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#ANYWAYS i hope you've all been ok!!
expelliarmus · 1 year
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causticsunshine · 5 months
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wanted to share the sentiment here too but didn't feel like rewriting the whole thing lmao so here are some Thoughts i had last night on twt regarding my weird relationship with my art whilst being in fandom:
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i know i've definitely talked about this kind of thing in the past but it's been a very recent development that i actually understand what's been going on with me and why i've picked up this habit of letting a fandom i'm in / a piece of media i'm really into fully dictate my creative drive. like, just because i'm very interested or invested in something, it doesn't mean i necessarily feel inspired by it or inspired by it for the duration that it holds my interest, and forcing myself to create relative art or fic or what have you for the vested interest(s) has both dampened my desire to be creative as well as my imagination. i know a lot of people can be super into something or a few random things at once and that can keep them going for ages without them running out of ideas, but in my case, things that hold my interest aren't always synonymous with my creativity and i'm just now learning that despite how obvious it seems!
i also imagine i'm not the only person who functions like this but i personally haven't seen it spoken about very often (if it even needs to idk), so i wanted to bring it up / talk about it a little bit :)
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battywitch · 6 months
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I've just had the delightful realization (again) that this is my story, and I can put whatever I want into it. Including a shape changing vampire.
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cherryredstars · 27 days
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Ok so i have this fic idea where reader and mig are from different universes and reader is a scientist and one time mig and her get drunk and start talking about the multiverse and suddenly they are on the topic of what would happen if people from different universes had a baby together. (You see where i am going with this...) they end up drunkenly fucking and saying it's for "research" because they can't admit to themselves that they are in love. If this request is too complicated feel free to ignore. Thank you in advance cherry!! I hope u have a marvelous new year!! 💕
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Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Oral Sex, Mentions of Animal Testing (for science), Breeding Kink
A/N: Thank you, love! I hope you're well!!!
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You know there is a process.
And you know this isn't it.
There are supposed to be hypotheses and written out procedures. Dependent and independent variables, a control group. Fucking hell, you should be experimenting on fucking mice. You should be limiting the margins of error, should be going with the most direct, straightforward pursuit for results.
And yet...
You don't stop Miguel when he pushes you back onto the couch. You don't pause or even really think when he's pushing your pants down your legs, placing kisses along the skin as he goes. You lift your hips to aid him when his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, shivering when his warm breath fans over your exposed sex. If this experiment was in any sense proper, you would get straight into it. Cut out all the unneeded steps. But you can't help but pull his head closer to your aching core, craving the way his warm tongue laps at you. If you weren't already drunk, you would be drunk on this feeling alone.
But god, nothing has even been more satisfying than doing the work. You know the data would be void in a real experiment. The trials bleeding into each other hardly make for adequate data, but the way you beg him for more is involuntary. It feels too good, to have him desperately thrusting into you. It makes your mind numb, and everything you know about your life's passion is erased. The only thing that fills your head is the words Miguel grunts into you ears, promises of fucking a baby into you. Vows to make you bloated with load after load of his cum. That all it'll take is one of his orgasms to make it happen.
You guess that is a hypothesis in itself: Miguel O'Hara can get you pregnant with just one orgasm.
Too bad he's too desperate to find out if that hypothesis is correct. Because he doesn't stop at one. No, he keeps going. One after the other with no breaks in-between. But you guess that's to be expected, he is a man of science himself. A passionate one at that.
He's almost crazed in the way he overstimulates himself. Sweat beading in his hairline as he grunts down at you, watching the way he creamy cock slides in and out of your abused pussy. You've lost count of how many times you've come alone, but you know based on the way your body shivers and jolts that it's far more than you've ever had before. It's almost painful now, the way your next orgasm rips through you and shatters your soul again. You let out strangled breaths as you fight through the aftershocks and the continued pleasure of Miguel's cock slamming against your cervix. You swear you black out before he finally stops, your eyes and mind groggy as he pulls your hips flush against his as he spills into you.
You can feel him trying to push deeper into you as he pants ruggedly, his cock twitching against your walls until he's milked dry. Even when he's done filling you, he stays connected. He collapses onto you, breathing in the linger smell of sweat and sex on your skin.
"Got to make sure it takes."
Well, does the process really matter if you get the desired result anyway?
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Part 2
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luveline · 10 months
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Ok what about a lil fic of Remus being snappy with his gf leading up to the full moon? Just some angst and then fluffy ending with them reconciling
thank u for ur request! —remus says something he shouldn't before the full moon, and later campaigns for your forgiveness with affection and a confession. fem!reader, 1.2k
Remus lays on the couch with his forearm pressed to his eyes. It's the day before the full moon, and he feels the hours approaching like a death sentence every time. You hover in the doorway, watching, unsure of how to help. He gets the same every month (or rather, every cycle). 
Irritable. So anxious he can't breathe properly, let alone enter conversation. 
You hate seeing him like this. Your Remus, who spends every moment you're together trying to make sure you're as happy as you can be. 
Cautious, you round the sofa to crouch by his face. You hold out your hand, trailing a gentle fingertip down the length of his arm, tripping over pinched skin ridged by scars. He's beautiful no matter what, but he gets insecure about how he looks every full moon. You know he thinks he's a monster. You've no way to prove it to him beyond this. 
"Hey, handsome," you say softly. "I know you're not hungry, but I made dinner anyway if you feel up to it. And I know," —you drop your voice to a near whisper— "I know you're not in the mood, but I'm here. I can sit here and stroke your hair in silence all night if that's what you want, my love. I'll do whatever you want." 
"Then leave me alone," he says. 
Half snap, half firm defeat. You wince at the ire in his voice. It won't ever be nice to have someone you love speak to you like you're getting on their nerves, but you know what it is he's facing. You know this is hard for him to cope with. You can forgive him for everything if he makes it through this in one piece. 
"Okay. I'm sorry. I love you, Remus." 
He turns his head toward the sofa cushions. 
You leave the room with a heavy heart. In the kitchen, you try to eat, but every mouthful makes you feel sick, your eyes welling with tears as you chew. You're hurt, he's hurting, and this really, really sucks. 
The smell of dinner starts to amplify the nausea. You grab your plate and carry it to the back door, scraping your leftovers straight into the rubbish. You wash your plate and leave it to drip dry on the draining board, your eyes burning. You sniff, wiping your nose in your sleeve. 
You're hoping desperately that Remus will come around before bed, but he stays where he is. Thinking he's finally found sleep and wanting to leave him to that blissful reprieve, you creep through the living room and down the hallway into the bedroom. Tears fall as you change into your pyjamas. You're so tired that you barely have time to cry yourself to sleep. 
You're not sure how much longer it is when you wake. A familiar hand cups your cheek. 
From the warmth of your skin, he's had his hand there for a while. 
"I'm so sorry," Remus says. 
You don't know how he knows you're awake. He must have been watching you long enough to spot the difference. Honestly, you're not sure you want to see him yet, because you love him so much, and it breaks your heart to be at the end of his disdain even when you know the cause. 
You struggle to see him in the dark. 
"I should never have spoken to you like that." 
Your eyes close of their own accord, exhausted and sore from crying. "You didn't mean it." 
"I wish you'd shout at me," he murmurs, sliding his hand over your ear. His thumb draws along the shell of your ear. 
"I'm too tired," you mumble. 
Remus' head shifts closer to yours. Sharing the same pillow, his hand falls to your shoulder, his arm wrapping around you, a firm bicep pressed to your front. 
You let yourself lean into it. His breath warms the space between your brows. 
"It's no excuse, but I… I can't think of anything else but the pain, sometimes. I get so angry about it, because I'm–" He stops short, swallowing audibly in the otherwise silent room. "I'm scared. But I would be a hundred times more terrified if I didn't have you, knowing you're there for me, unflinchingly, before and after it happens, it helps me get through it. It's not fair that you give me so much peace and I just… 
"I'm sorry, dove. I don't mean to take advantage of your… heart." He says heart like he's been winded. He hadn't sounded finished, but everything stops at that word. 
You force your eyes open. He's looking at you with an unspeakable amount of love, kind to keel you over if you were standing. His eyes are pitch black in the lack of light, irises melded with pupils, giving him an even sorrier gaze. You raise a sluggish hand to his where it rests behind your back and pull it back to your face. You miss his touch. 
"I love you," you say. 
"I know," he says, his jaw tensing in an attempt to stage off tears. "I love you, too." You watch them collect in the corners of his eyes, following one as it slides to rest in the dip of his nose bridge while he lies on his side like this. 
"So don't be sorry." 
"But I am sorry. I can't fathom why I think it's okay to treat you that way." 
"You don't think at all, Remus. I'm not being flippant, but you're busy worrying about the worst of it." You shake your head gently. His hand twitches against your cheek. "I don't blame you." 
"I know," he utters. 
You stare up at him as he sits enough to tower over you. His smile is sorry, in love and ashamed. You want to tell him how it doesn't matter, that it's okay, but you're thinking maybe you need him to say it first. 
"I'm sorry." 
"Remus, you only told me to leave you alone." 
"I need you to know that any other time, you're all that I want. You're everything. I couldn't ask for more than you. Please don't think I'm cruel," he pleads in a whisper. 
You lift your chin incrementally. "I'd never think that." 
His apology kiss is coddling. Like he's worried he'll hurt you, like he's holding back, he kisses you like you can't handle more than a chaste press of the lips. 
"I love you," he says into it. 
You lift your head to kiss him harder. You love him, and you won't break. You can be exactly as strong as he needs you to be, so long as love waits at the end of the night. 
"I love you." A huff of a laugh escapes him. "Does this mean I'm forgiven?" Caution has his joke falling flat.
You nuzzle your cheek against his, knowing you'd forgiven him just as soon as he'd snapped. "If you let me stroke your hair. Did you eat your dinner?" 
"I'll eat it tomorrow," he says. A white lie, you both know, but he slides down further under the sheets so you can reach his head. 
You card your fingers through his hair until you've both fallen asleep. 
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amomentsescape · 4 months
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can I also request to yandere slashers and sinclair brothers with a pregnant reader that gets kidnapped if thats ok? Thank you hope im not requesting too much, no pressure to make it 😅
Yandere! Slashers with Pregnant Reader That Gets Kidnapped
Yandere! Slashers x Reader (Separate)
Includes: Freddy, Michael, Jason, Thomas, Bubba, Brahms, Norman, Billy, Stu, Vincent, Bo, & Lester
Warnings: Yandere behavior, mentions of pregnancy, typical Slasher behavior
A/N: No worries! Thank you for requesting :) I also apologize if my last couple of Slasher fics have been a bit short. I've been stuck in a brain fog this past week.
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Freddy Krueger
The moment Freddy sees you gone, he just laughs
You couldn't be that stupid to just leave, could you?
You can't escape him when he can show up at any point no matter where you are
However, him popping up and seeing you being held hostage by someone else...
Freddy's smile fades
Of course you wouldn't leave him
But who dares to have put you and his child at risk?
The moment he sees them, he doesn't even care
He immediately slashes their throat and picks you up, not wasting any time taking you back to where you belong
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Michael Myers
The kidnapper was careless
Don't they know that Michael would walk to the ends of the earth for you and his child?
His abilities know no bounds
He finds your location within a single night
All you can hear at first are screams and splatters, not sure what is going on outside your little room
But the moment you see Michael, you immediately relax
You weren't sure he would come for you
But here he was
And without a word, he has you lifted in his bloody arms as he walks you back home
Just know he won't be letting you out of his sight at all now
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Jason Voorhees
He can hear your screams echo throughout the woods
He knows this area like the back of his hand anyways, so it doesn't take long to locate you
The way you're holding onto your stomach, trying to protect the child from any harm, has Jason seeing nothing but red
He doesn't even want to fool around with the assailant
His machete is plunged into the top of their head before they can even let out a scream
His mood does a complete 180 when he looks back to you, gently taking you in his arms to make sure you weren't hurt
He just sits with you on the ground for a while, rocking you in his arms
He's attempting to comfort you, but there's a part of him that's also trying to comfort himself
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Thomas Hewitt
When he comes home to the door wide open, he immediately panics
You didn't leave him... did you?
He thought you were finally happy
Teary eyed and angered, Thomas storms out into the night to look for you
He had wandered pretty far into the area when he heard your screams
Some crazy family seemed to have taken you from your home
Your screams were immediately cut off by the sound of a chainsaw, cutting right into the door
Your kidnappers jumped up and attempted to flee, but Thomas was quick to catch up
You had your ears covered and your eyes tightly shut when he came back in
He gently pulled your hands down and lifted you up
He carried you home without any hesitation
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Bubba Sawyer
The screams of devastation he lets out can literally be heard from miles around
Doesn't even want to consider that you left him
You've been so good the last few months
There's no way you would have just left like this
After an hour of him frantically searching around the area, he can finally hear your voice
You were talking to the stranger, asking them to please let you go
The fact that they just kept ignoring you made Bubba even more angry
They only finally looked up when they heard the revving of his chainsaw
They didn't even have time to flee before they were cut in half
He runs over to you quickly, placing one hand on your stomach and the other on the side of your face
He was blubbering, promising you he'll do better next time
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Brahms Heelshire
Well this was an incredibly stupid decision on their part
Don't they know that Brahms doesn't ever leave the house?
And wherever you are, he will be too
The kidnapper doesn't even make it out the door with you
The moment Brahms hears your screams, it's over
He emerges from the wall and grabs the kidnapper
You watch as Brahms slams the person's head into the wall, over and over again until they're just a bloody pulp
He storms over to you and grabs you roughly, looking your body over to make sure you and the baby weren't hurt
He traps you in bed with him for the rest of the night
His arms act as a cage, not letting you up for anything
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Norman Bates
Everything is a bit of a blur
He comes home to the place ransacked, you nowhere in sight
You weren't reckless
He knows you wouldn't have done this
He turns to go search for you, and that's when things go black
He finally comes to with you crying in his arms on a dirty floor
An unrecognizable body lays beside him, blood pooling everywhere
But you and his child are safe
That's all that matters now
And he'll make sure nothing like this ever happens again
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Billy Loomis
Billy is immediately in a rage when he sees you're gone
There is no way you're going to leave him
Never
He'll break into every house in this town if he has to
And that's just what he does
It's only after the 7th house that he finds you tied up to a chair
Oh you poor thing
Of course you didn't leave him
The scene before you quickly becomes bloody
A few bodies lie splattered on the floor, Billy tending to the rope around you
He apologizes for letting this happen and kisses you deeply
It's only later that night you hear of 7 families that had been found slashed in their own homes
There really is no limit when it comes to Billy
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Stu Macher
He has a mental breakdown when he sees that you're gone
Goes into a fit of hysterical laughter as he reaches for his knife
He doesn't want to hurt you, but he will if he must
When he hears a scream echo not too far from where he was searching, he sprints to it
And when he sees you being held by some random person, Stu's crazed smile finally drops
He lunges, and things go out of control
Stu is left with a few cuts and bruises, but he doesn't care
He immediately looks you over and makes sure you're not hurt
When he's content, he takes you home and cuddles up with you on the couch, bloody clothes and all
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Vincent Sinclair
Vincent doesn't like to venture too far from home, but he'll do it for you
Seeing that you're gone makes him assume the worse
He marches outside the home, already searching every nook and cranny of this desolate place
And it works out in his favor once he sees you in an old building, knocked unconscious
He smashed his way through the window immediately
The attackers come running towards him, but he was quick to act
You awoke to a bloody mess beside you and a worried Vincent knelt in front of you
He rests his hands on your stomach and you nod, letting him know you and the baby are okay
He's content with this and wraps you in his arms to take you back home
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Bo Sinclair
If he can't have you, no one can
When he's sees you're gone, he assumes you left just like he knew you were going to try
He hunts you down immediately, ready to do what needed to be done, only to see you scared and tied up
Oh, now Bo can't help the growing smile on his face
You didn't want to leave him, and now he can have fun with whoever was stupid enough to do this
Will knock them unconscious and take you both home
He'll make their death a long and painful one
But it's another addition to the wax museum
One that he is most proud of
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Lester Sinclair
He instantly tears up at the idea that you left him
He almost doesn't even want to go after you, but you're also carrying his child
He can't just let you go that easily
He of course checks Ambrose first, and he considers himself lucky to have found you as soon as he did
But seeing you being held by some random person was not what he had planned
Lester's self pity quickly evolves to pure anger
He jumps in and immediately attacks, not even thinking of finding a weapon first
His adrenaline kicks in and it doesn't take long before he kills the kidnapper, suffocating them to death
He then wraps himself up with you, holding you close and apologizing over and over again
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smuthospital · 7 months
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⭐️Yandere Gym Buddy⭐️
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Premise: You made a new friend at the gym, and he is determined to make sure you get a good pump.
Warning: Non-con, fem reader
Minors DNI
Working out with you is almost too much. You're cute, smaller body is too much. The way you look up at him and thank him when he takes the weight off you when you push your body to failure. The way you whimper when you can't do one more rep. He first saw you looking at a machine for biceps and you seemed ok, but your form could be a bit better so he decided he'd help you by correcting it.
The next time he saw you, you were trying a bicep workout, but you were lifting too heavy and it was messing up your form. Proper form is essential to any excersize and without it, you could risk pulling a muscle. He couldnt just stand by and let you do that so he became your gym buddy whenever he spotted you.
You always look so nervous when he talks to you. You can't even maintain eye contact, but when you do, you look up at him and smile sheepishly. It warms his heart. You thanked him for helping you with your workout and walked on your mary way.
He smiled and continued on with his until he saw you patiently waiting for him to finish his set from the corner of his eye. You're blushing all cute and averting eyes again. He takes out his earbud and looks over at you. "I-I feel like I didn't properly thank you before so thank you again. I really appreciate your help," You say, becoming cherry red by the end.
He wants to just pick you up and take you home. You're like a cute little bunny. He's a respectful guy so he's only ever looked at your body in the places he needs to for your form, but he'd be lying if he said they never drifted to other places. From your sweet-looking neck to the curve of your back, all the way down to your cute butt.
The way your workout clothes fit your body so tight in all the right places. He wonders if you want the attention. When you wear crop tops...or when he's lucky and you wear your super short shorts. The ones that barely cover your...He shakes his head. He can't get hard in the gym again. "No problem. You're very polite, you know," He says. You knod your head in thanks.
You scamper off to go do cute girl things, probably. He hopes you don't have a boyfriend. Actually, theres no way you do. No man would let a girl like you out of their site. Especially in a testosterone filled gym. And talk to other guys? No way. If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be fighting him right now.
If you had a boyfriend, your boyfriend would be laying on the ground, broken and defeated, bleeding from every orifice. He clenches his fists, his veins protruding. He'd lay the bastard the fuck out without a second of hesitation. No mercy and no reasoning. He finishes his workout with more vigour than usual.
The next time he spotted you at the gym, he saw some guy about to walk up to you. They're like fucking flies. This is the third one this week. He speeds up his pace and gets to you first before the fly could get its chance. The other guy turns tail immediately, confusing you because it looked like he'd wanted to talk to you.
"Hey, nice to see you again," he says, smiling that usual charming smile. 'The ladies probably go nuts for this guy,' you thought. "Nice to see you too!" Your voice is so sweet. It's like honey. He's memorized the texture of your sound. "Your arms look really good," you say, your face completely red. That came out of nowhere. He wonders how long you've been working up the courage to say that to him. He chuckles and flexes. "Thank you, I'm very proud of them."
He swears he could eat you up. Just the way you look at his body, whether it be in admiration or otherwise, it's all the same to him. "Do you want to get protein shakes after this? I can make them really tasty." You're going. Whether you like it or not.
"Oh..uhm, you don't have to! I don't know much bout protein anyway," you say nervously. Bingo. "Protein is incredibly important for helping you repair your muscles after you work hard at the gym!" He knows he's gonna convince you.
"O-oh, really? I didn't know that. If it's that important, ok then." You look off to the side, unsure about going to a mans house. He's feeling cuteness aggression. He wants to hug you and squeeze you so badly. His hands twitch, fighting the urdge to do so. He has to look away when you're doing a tough workout.
Watching sweat drip down your face is captivating. He imagines that face when he's alone in his apartment at night, his cock in hand. He just wants to lay you down on your back with him in between your legs...his thoughts wander too much. "Great, you'll love it!" He could'nt be more pleased with himself.
After you both finished, he waits for you outside the changing room. He was so giddy. He loves looking down at you..and seeing your cute little wonderous eyes looking up at him, like a confused little bunny. He takes your hand and leads you out to his car. You blush furiously at the contact. You get in the passenger seat and he drives you back to his place.
It's a really nice and expensive looking apartment building. Modern and well kept. It even has a gym inside. You wonder why he travels to yours. He takes you up to his apartment and you gasp. "It's so big!" He closes his eyes for a moment, imagining those words in a different context. "I'm excited to try the protein shake," you say, snapping him out of his fuzzy daze.
"Ah yes." He takes you over to his spottless kitchen and takes out a blender, some bananas, protein powder, peanut butter and milk. You lean over the counter to peer at what he's doing. Hes really good at making protein shakes. You wonder if he can cook aswell. You wouldn't be surprised. While you're lost in though, he has the perfect view of your cleavage. He bites his lip. Fuck. He feels his dick twitch to life.
He groans. He's been trying not to get hard this whole day. Good thing you're behind the counter. He pours the smoothies into two cups, his being larger because you dont need as much protein as he does. He manages to hide is boner well enough to make his way over to his living room with your cups.
He hands you yours after taking a seat, making sure to place a pillow in his lap. You take a sip. He loves the way your mouth opens and the way you lick your lips of the sweet drink. Fuck. He downs his and watches you. "Hey, so I wanted to ask if you maybe wanted to hang out..outside the gym again sometime?" he asks, looking hopeful.
"Oh..uh," you thought he wasn't interested in you! You were sure of it! He's too handsome for you! He's way out of your league. You've never been romanticaaly interested in him. You know your place. You just get really nervous and shy around pretty people. He's an extremely athletic man and you're a snail in comparrison! You're not even looking for a relationship right now! This is a nightmare! You just wanted to focus on yourself. That's why you started going to the gym.
Oh god, what do you do!? You stare at your drink for a while, the silence thickening by the second. "I...uh...." You want to go home and hide under your sheets. How will you ever face him again? It's over. No more gym buddy. He looks down at you, his smile and hopeful eyes fading. You... don't want him. You don't want him!? But...he's perfect for you...and you for him!
He doesn't understand why you could possibly ever not want to be with him. He wordlessly puts his cup down. You just need some convincing is all. You look up at him. He can see emotions swirling around in your eyes. He stands up to his full height, casting a shadow over you. "(Y/n),... change your mind." His tone is eerily calm.
"But...I wanna focus on.. myself-" He cuts you off. "No! I will focus on you. That's what you need. I will take care of you. I'm dedicated to you. It has to be claer by now that I want you." He takes the cup from your hands and sets it down before pulling you up by your arm and forcing you deeper into the apartment.
"Huh? What? N-no, where are we going? Stop! I wanna go home!" You cry, trying to struggle out of his grip, the grip of the arms four times the size of yours. You notice now just how big he is. Hes...massive. Taller than most men...broad shoulders, a large frame, and incredibly muscular. Your face pails. You... can't stop him. You were right to be nervous to come here!
He drags you into his room, making you sit on his bed. He doesn't open the lights, but from the moonlight shining in from the window, you can see the glinting of his hungry eyes looking down at you. His chest heaves. He feels fuzzy and lightheaded as he looks down at you...all his blood...has shot right down to his cock.
He can't think of anything but the way your thighs meet at that special crevice that he wants to explore. You're probably still sweaty from the workout... he's trembling at the thought of your soft body pressed against his toned self.
He pushes your upper body down a bit too hard and splits your legs apart, settling himself between them before leaning down. Your faces so close. You turn your face away, which just makes him get even closer to you, his nose touching your cheek, his breath fanning over you. With him in between your legs, you can feel the heat emanating from his crotch as it presses into yours. You whimper under him and he groans a bit. His cock has never been so engored before. Its unbarable.
"Please...take off your clothes...I don't want to hurt you on accident," he breathes, using all the remaining blood in his head to think straight, trying to control himself. You shake your head. "I-I can't!" Not a second after you speak, his hands grip your poor clothes and rip them to shreds like paper. He's wanted to do that to your workout clothes for a long time. They were always taunting him with the way they squeeze your ass or the way your pussy shows through the crotch area a bit when you're bent.
You suck in a breath to scream, hoping one of his neighbors would hear you, but he covers your mouth with his palm just in time, muffling your cry. "Shhh shhh... it's ok shh. I've got you," he coos, trying to calm you. Your chest heaves up and down as tears stream down your cheeks. Your face feels like its burning.
He replaces his hand with his lips and kisses you gently. You continue sobbing quietly into the kiss, not wanting any of this. He doesn't cover your mouth after he lifts his lips from yours. Hope for getting another opportunity dies within you as he stuffs your underwear into your mouth and ties it shut with the drawstring of his shorts tightly behind your head.
He kisses your cheek and stays right there for a moment, just breathing in your scent. You decide now is a good time to at least try fighting him with everything you've got. You headbutt him in the face, sending his head back a bit. He grunts in pain and looks back at you with a blaze in his eyes. A trickle of blood escapes his nose. He wipes it off with the back of his hand. He shuts his eyes for a second, trying to maintain his patience. He sighs. He's trying his hardest to be nice with you.
He places a finger on your chin, turning you to face him. When you refuse to face him and turn your head in defiance, he grips your cheeks roughly and forces you to face him. His eyes are stern. "Bunny, I don't want to hurt you." Is all he says. You dont take his threat lightly. He looks more than happy to actually hurt you. You don't believe for a second that he's being honest about not wanting to hurt you.
He lowers his shorts with his free hand, taking your silence as compliance. You see the bulge in his shorts reveal itself to be a monstrous size when free. It's..scary. It slams against your bare pussy lips. It's heavy, thick and demanding attention. It's veiny underside is burning you.
You swallow hard, trying to wiggle out from underneath it. You don't make it far trapped beneath him with nowhere to go. Your hands are free, but every time you try to do anything, he swats them away and.. after his previous threat, you don't want to know what will happen if you annoy him enough.
His hand comes down to your cunt and plays with your lower lips. He releases your face, knowing you'll behave. You writhe underneath him, pathetically kicking and pushing at his hand down there. His other hand grabs your wrist and and squeezes it and a painful grip, looking dead in your eyes as he continues to play with your cunt.
Another tear slips down your cheek. He softens his grip a bit before leaning down to kiss your tears away. Your tear-stained face, the way you whimper and your face scrunches in discomfort..is doing things to him. He's learned something new about himself just now. He wants to be inside you so bad, but he knows he'd tear you in two, even with all his precum.
Your gasp as he flicks your sensitive pearl. He can't help but chuckle. Without any warning, he slips his index finger inside your cunt and relishes in the warm wetness hugging it tightly. He just wants you wet enough to take him without too much pain. He just needs to be more patient, but... it's so hard with you making all those cute expressions.
"Pleath shtop..I..." The muffled words you were trying to produce disappear in a cloud of smoke as he curls his finger upwards into your spongy walls. Fuck. He loves when you beg him to stop. You moan so cutely. Your pussy twitches around him. He bites his lip. You're.. wet enough. It's fine, it'll fit. He can't wait anymore.
He lines his fat cock up with your cunt and slides it up and down your shimmering folds. "W-wai-" He cuts you off by sliding the head of his cock in. It's so fucking tight. He grunts and can't help but sink himself further in. He feels like he's going mad.
He bucks his hips forward, meeting resistance. Your cervix. He pushes forward still, eventually managing to bottom out, the shape of his cock making an appearance in your lower stomach. Your cunt needs to know his shape for next time. It's a good thing he stuffed your mouth because you've been screaming and crying like crazy. "I'm sorry, bunny. I didn't mean to hurt you. I got a bit ahead of myself. I'll be more gentle." He kisses your nose, his cock driving in and out slowly.
You're sopping wet now, the two of you can hear your insides gushing when he pushes in. You're so embarrassed. The pleasure is undeniable. You scratch his back as he pressed in again, his hips meeting yours snuggly. You can't hold it anymore! you let out a long whine as you cum, your walls squeezing him deliciously. He moans, driving his cock in and out, rapidly pounding your cunt into a fine paste. You come down from your high as he's still churning your insides and cry out again. You're too sensitive now!
You tap on his shoulder, but it garners no response. He lifts your legs and presses them back into your chest, getting even deeper. He's pounding into you like a wild animal. You feel the familiar knot in your lower stomach tighten. Your nails dig into his back, your eyes crossing as you come again. He grunts as you tighten around him once more.
He thrusts into you so deep that you can see the imprint of his cock in your lower stomach even more than before. Your cervix needs an ice pack. He grips your waist, emptying the largest load he's ever cum. You're so tired. He continues pumping himself into you lazily. He rests his body weight on you, squishing you and pressing his still-hard cock against your stuffed insides.
Cum leeks past his cock onto the damp bedsheets. He pants, looking down at you. "I love you (y/n)," he says with the most love struck expression you've ever seen. You look like an angel to him. All you can do is twitch and bask in the afterglow of what he did. His cock began to completely re-harden at the beautiful sight he created before him.
You're no longer gym buddies, that's for sure. Thanks to him, you might be parents. You should have just accepted his feelings when you had the chance. Now your guts are filled and you're trapped under him with your knees by your head. What a workout.
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whore-era · 1 year
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1-800-GIRLS
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☁︎ modern!ellie x sex-hotline-operator!reader, very small mention of dealer!ellie ☁︎ summary: where ellie dials the wrong number and meets you instead. ☁︎ warnings: contains smut! 18+ only. top/dom!ellie, bottom/sub!reader, mentions spitplay/breathplay/overstimulation, mentions sexual interactions with men, dirty talking, guided masturbation (r!recieving), use of fem nicknames (babygirl, sweet girl, pretty girl, pup, puppy) let me know if i missed anything else pls. ☁︎ a/n: i feel like this kinda sucked bc towards the end i kinda rushed it, but i couldn't shake this idea n knew i had to write it. hope u like it bbs<3 also thank u to my bestie @elskittie for helping me figure some things out w this fic ☁︎ word count: 4,463 ☁︎ 1-800-GIRLS part 2
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phone call style story — reader is in italics, ellie is in bold.
monday, 12:45am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, hot stuff?
uhh.. i just wanted to order a pepperoni pizza..
oh yeah? you want something hot and ready? i have something hot and ready for you.
ummm..
you hear some shuffling in the background, "jess! i think you gave me the wrong number!" the person comes back on the line again.
this isn't papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
....do you want me to roleplay as papa tony's cheesy pizza place?
woah woah woah! roleplay?? who the fuck am i on the phone with?
this is sugar from 1-800-GIRLS.....a sex hotline...for you know? phone sex.
PHONE SEX?? you hear the girl's voice yell in the background, "jesse! you ass! you gave me the number to a phone sex hotline!"
"does she sound hot?"
"well yeah, but—"
hey, you do know it's $1 a minute right? you've been on the line for almost 5 minutes, babe.
HUHH?? hell no..ok thanks sugar bear, or whatever. bye!
the line clicks off, and you shrug. sitting back in your bed to continue watching your favorite netflix show. you feel your work phone vibrate again, the name flashing 'bobby', a regular who frequents the hotline.
sighing and picking up your phone and holding it to your ear, you take a bite from your sandwich as you answer your 15th call this evening, "thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you, big boy?"
tuesday, 2:12am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's sugar speaking. how can i help you tonight, cutie?
hey....sugar.. i just- er- wanted to apologize for yesterday. my buddy got your number confused with a pizza place we really wanted to try. didn't mean to sound rude last night.
it's no issue, babe. don't sweat about it.
.......
.......
soooo.... is that the only reason why you called?
ellie didn't want to admit that she was attracted to 'sugar's' voice and that she'd been thinking about it all day during class. but also, ellie was high as a fucking kite, which gave her the courage to even dial the number again anyways.
i— uh— well— how does this whole thing work?
what thing? the hotline?
yeah..
well, you call me, we have phone sex or talk or whatever, and then you hang up. again, it's a dollar a minute.
okay, okay, i get it. so we can just talk? about anything?
yeah, if you want to.
sick.
ellie takes another drag from her joint, before speaking again.
so, do you like doing this? being an operator or whatever?
you let out a laugh, which ellie caught.
specify what you mean by 'like'?
i mean— this is your job. do you enjoy doing it?
ehh...i guess.
c'mon. you can be honest with me.
well, being a sex hotline operator has it's downsides. obviously helping old men jack off gets a little weird sometimes — they have some unusual fetishes.
oh yeah? what's been the weirdest one so far?
uhhh..i have this one regular who has me pretend i'm a ghost. apparently, having sex with ghosts is a real turn on for him.
what the fuck. seriously?
mhm, it's true.
shit, dude....i don't think i could ever do what you do. i dunno how you can do it.
well when you have college tuition and rent to worry about, the downsides don't seem all that bad.
holy shit, you're in college? how old are you anyways?
19.
that's crazy. we're around the same age. i figured you were a bit older.
how 'bout you? how old are you?
21.
not bad not bad. you're way different from the clients i usually get.
yeah? how?
considering my usual clients are 40 to 60 year old men who are married with kids and have secret fetishes, i'd say you're out of my ballpark.
ellie laughs.
how do you know i'm not secretly an old, 57 year old man who's married to my wife janet with three kids? and i have a balloon fetish?
you let out a giggle, adjusting your sleep shorts as you lay back down on your bed, completely invested in your conversation with this girl.
well, how can i appease your balloon fantasies?
i'm just fuckin' with ya. definitely not a man and i have the more normal kinks and fetishes.
is that so? what are the 'normal' kinks and fetishes?
uhhhh....well i'm into bondage, i love tying girls up..i dunno, just seeing them open and vulnerable does something to me. i'm into breathplay, spitplay, overstimulation, and i'm definitely a dominant so—
all you could do was gape as the girl went on her tangent, listing off every kink she could think of. you gulped, suddenly getting a bit nervous from this topic of conversation. you were experienced in the field of phone sex, but actual sex was a totally different world you had no practice in.
so, how 'bout you sugar?
...uhhh....i'm a virgin actually.
the other girl went silent on the other side of the line.
what? but you work as a sex hotline operator.
oh yeah- but— hold on, i'm getting another call. i'll speak to you some other time.
you hung up and threw your work phone across your bed, laying your head down on your pillows. talking to men was so much easier for you, so why do you get all caught up when you talk to a girl?
it was nearly 3:30am, so you decided to turn in and call it a night, mentally preparing yourself for a busy day tomorrow.
wednesday, 11:45am
sitting next to professor adams, patiently waiting for the students to turn in their quizzes, you try to focus on the text of your 'philosophy 101' book.
you were grateful that professor adams gave you the opportunity to be his teacher's assistant for a little bit of extra cash, and you weren't complaining either. the tasks he gave you were easy for a mere $16 an hour. still, it wasn't enough to support all of your bills, so you couldn't drop the hotline gig.
"and time! everyone hand your quizzes in to my TA, regardless if you finished or not," professor announced. all the students shuffled towards the front, handing you their quizzes as you neatly put them in a small pile.
"ah shit— let me put the date on that," a girl, with a very familiar voice spoke. looking up, you're greeted with the most attractive girl you've seen in your life. she had brunette hair and green eyes, with a small scar on her right brow. was this..? no, it couldn't be. that would be insane.
handing you the paper, her hand brushes against yours. you look down at her quiz, seeing in messy, scribbled black ink the name ellie williams.
slinging her backpack on one arm, she heads out the door, "jesse! wait up for me!"
leaving you in a daze, you were completely speechless by the idea that one of your new, favorite clients from your nighttime job is actually a student at your university.
saturday, 1:45am → 1:14:34 ongoing call with 401-890-6798 (cranston, RI)
thanks, sugar. will be calling you again at the same time next week.
no problem, sir. goodnight. dream of me.
sure will, babygirl.
the line clicks as the older man hangs up, and you shudder a bit, feeling uncomfortable after having to roleplay as a ghost, again.
sighing heavily, you place your work phone on your desk and pick up your real phone, opening instagram and scrolling on your feed as you mindlessly snack on some gummy bears.
you double tap to like some of your friends pictures, wishing you were out at a party, drinking some lukewarm beer and dancing with your girls to the latest tiktok hits.
but instead you were cooped up in your apartment, dirty talking old men through their fantasies and bearing witness to their guttural groans and masturbation. it was a shame that friday and saturday nights were your busiest evenings.
taking your bottom lip between your teeth, you ponder for a moment, your finger hovering over the instagram search bar.
fuck it, you thought, typing 'ellie williams' and hitting search.
the username @_elliewilliams pops up, and bingo. it was the same girl from professor adams class.
luckily her profile was public, so you take your time carefully combing through her instagram account, mindful not to accidentally like her posts or anything.
ellie's feed consisted of smoking weed, eating out, and hanging with her friends, jesse and dina. there were only two selfies she had posted — one of her and an older gentleman and one mirror picture of her in a grey hoodie and a light brown canvas jacket that made her look so good.
the ringing from your work phone caught you off guard, causing you to jump in your chair and exit out of the instagram app. you take a look at the number, and speak of the devil, it was ellie herself. she was the only jackson number that ever contacted you.
saturday, 2:10am → incoming call from 307-222-4578 (jackson, WY)
thank you for calling 1-800-GIRLS, sugar speaking. what can i do for you, handsome?
hey, sugar. just wanted to apologize for how our last conversation went. i probably pushed a boundary or something— i'm not sure if you're supposed to talk about personal things with customers— so, i'm sorry.
you let out a soft laugh.
why is it when you call me, you're always apologizing?
'cause i'm a fuck up, that's why.
nooo, that's not true. besides, don't worry about it. your question just caught me off guard, you know? never had clients ask things about me before i guess.
ahh, gotcha. so...were you busy before i called?
you shake your head, even though she was on the phone and couldn't see you.
uh, not really. my line doesn't usually get busy until...12 midnight ish.. it slows down by like 2 am though. how about you? what are you up to this friday night?
i just got back home from a party. business was slow and it was getting boring, so i dipped.
business? what business?
ah— well—
ellie silently cursed to herself, not wanting to scare you away with her current occupation.
if i tell you what i do, promise you won't get freaked out or anything?
you're talking to a phone sex hotline operator. don't worry.
you can hear her laugh from the other end.
well, fuck it, cat's out of the bag. i deal weed on campus and shit.
ahhh. i like that. is that how you can afford the minutes you spend calling me?
yup. i can stay on the phone for hours if we wanted.
maybe you'll be my only customer.
i wouldn't complain.
speaking of customers, do you want me to save your number under a specific name or nickname or anything? since i'm assuming you're gonna be a regular?
trying to confirm if it was indeed ellie you were speaking with, you sat on the edge of your chair, anxiety building in your belly.
what nicknames do your clients usually pick?
uhhh. master, sir, king, mister, alpha— umm and daddy.
something stirred inside ellie hearing that last nickname roll off your tongue.
you could just put me down as ellie.
got it.
what do i call you? do i just keep calling you sugar?
well, you're a customer. you can call me anything you like, but, for formalities and privacy, i can only tell you my hotline nickname — sugar.
okay, okay, that makes sense. you're not really allowed to have any personal or close relationships with clients, huh?
no, not really. mostly for safety purposes.
ellie was a little disappointed to know that she wouldn't be able to get to know the girl she was talking to beyond calling on the phone. she already felt herself getting attached. your voice was alluring and enticing, and she couldn't help but want to hear it more, and possibly put a name and face to who it belonged to.
but, i could bend the rules a little if i really wanted to.
yeah? let's see about that.
saturday, 4:45 am → 2:43:03 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
oh my god! did you and your ex get caught??
you were enamored with ellie. the way she could keep a conversation going and the stories she told — you didn't wanna hang up.
no, no, no, luckily we hid behind a dumpsters before the cops could catch us. it's hilarious thinking about it now, but we were dumbass 18-year-olds back then.
you both were in fits of laughter, your belly aching and tears watering in the corners of your eye.
as you calmed down, you couldn't stop your mouth from asking a question that's been racking on your mind.
so, how long were you and your ex together?
uhhhh, about 2 years.
ohhh okay........are you seeing anyone right now?
ellie lets out a laugh, and you can hear her smile, even through the phone.
why? who's asking?
well, i was just— uhh—
i'm just fuckin' with you. nah, i'm not seein' anyone right now. single af.
okay, okay. good to know.
how 'bout you?
nope. i'm single too.
seriously?? how?
i dunno. just never found the right person i guess. also, working for this hotline has made me lose hope for relationships in general, some of these dudes call me and say all this stuff — while having a whole wife and family at home.
i think you're looking in the wrong place then. try talking to people at school or going out to parties—
can't. if i'm not doing homework or studying, i'm working and doing this. i gotta make a living somehow.
ellie couldn't help but feel bad, knowing if she could, she'd support you full time and take that weight off your shoulders.
hmm, maybe you'll meet someone who could support you and take care of your bills and stuff.
oh? where would i find that? sounds too good to be true.
maybe they're closer to you than you think.
your breath hitched in your throat, unsure of what to say next.
i— uh— i have to go. it's 5am.
oh— uh— yeah. of course. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
sunday, 11:37pm → incoming call from ellie (jackson, WY)
hey.
hey. where's your usual greeting?
you're not a usual customer, so i think we're past that now, ellie.
ellie's heart thumped in her chest hearing you say her name.
good. anyways, what are you up to tonight?
just studying for a quiz tomorrow morning. how about you?
smoking, just finished some homework.
what class was it for?
uhhh, just this calculus class.
you clamped your mouth shut, suppressing a gasp. it was for professor adams class.
....uhhh, i could never get calculus. it's so hard.
yeah? maybe one night i can tutor you.
i'd be a terrible student.
i think you'd be the perfect student. i can teach you, i got you.
you couldn't help but think there was another meaning behind her words, but you didn't want to jump to any conclusions. it would be embarrassing if you got her message all wrong.
what's your quiz on anyways?
energy transfer between cells, it's for biology.
i know a thing or two about that. here— why don't we do this, just explain to me what you know and we'll go from there.
okay, i can do that.
you and ellie spent the next two and a half hours talking about cell function and energy transfer and everything else in between, with her correcting you and adding in important things you missed.
alright, sugar, i think you're ready for this quiz tomorrow.
you think so?
i know so. you're such a smart girl.
there she goes again, praising you.
uh, th-thanks.
don't worry, okay? i know you'll do great.
a smile curls on your lips, flustered from all her support.
you should get some sleep, so you can be focused and ready for tomorrow.
m'kay. thank you, ellie, for all your help.
of course. always. goodnight, sugar.
goodnight, ellie.
monday, 5:32pm → 45:21 ongoing call with mister j (corpus christi, TX)
yeah, babe? you want me to fuck your tight ass?
mhm, yes mister.
c'mon. beg, sugar.
please. fuck my tight hole, mister j.
ah, hell.
you can hear his belt buckle clanging, and the soft buzz of a zipper.
what's wrong with 'ya tonight, sugar? you're bein' a real buzzkill, 'ya know that? fuckin' turnin' me off and makin' me soft.
i-i'm sorry, mister j. please, jus—
yea, yea, save it. we'll jus' try 'gain tomorrow.
the line clicks on the other end. tossing your work phone on your desk, you fall back on your bed and stuff your face in your pillow. weeping into the plush material, you let yourself fall apart and break down.
but your sobbing session is cut short as you can hear the familiar ring of your work phone.
wiping your tears, you walk over to your desk and answer.
monday, 5:45pm → 00:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
thanks for calling 1-800-GIRLS, it's suga-
woah, woah, woah are you crying?
e-ellie?
yeah, baby, it's me. sounds like you're crying. what's going on? talk to me.
today was just a really, really bad day and then i opened my hotline a little early and one of my first clients just lashed out on me because i wasn't responding the way he wanted me to and—
you sniffle.
— and i'm just really stressed out by everything going on in my life right now.
i'm sorry. i wish there was something i could do— someway i could comfort you or take the weight off.
i-it's fine, ellie. talking to you is making it a little better.
ellie was silent for a moment, thinking carefully and planning her next moves accordingly.
do you trust me?
....y-yea, of c-course. why?
i'm gonna help you ease the tension. okay?
okay.
first of all, where are you?
i-in my room, sitting at my desk.
okay. go lay down on your bed.
with your phone pressed to your ear, you pick up your legs and stride over to your bed, laying down on the fluffy, material of your blanket.
okay, i'm on my bed.
good. what are you wearing?
foreseeing the direction this phone call was heading in, apprehension builds in your stomach.
ellie, you really don't have to-
hey, i want to help you. if that's okay with you. if not, we could talk about something instead.
biting your lip, you fold.
i-i'm okay with it, but i-i've never— played with myself with a customer before. i don't really do anything with myself even when i'm not working anyways.
that's okay. don't think of me as a customer, think of me as a...teacher. i got you, remember?
okay.
good girl. now, what are you wearing?
uh.. a tank top and shorts.
cute. take them off.
gulping, you follow her orders, shimmying out of your top and shorts.
done?
mhm.
good. so obedient.
i want you to rub your boobs for me. rub your nipples, pull on them, just feel the skin under your hand for me, baby.
rubbing the soft skin along your breast, and tugging on your hardened nipples, you bite your lip, savoring the way your body feels under your touch.
how does it feel?
feels good.
bet it does.
ellie couldn't stop her mind from imagining you, on your bed, perfectly naked. and how she'd give everything up, just to sneak a peek.
now, i want you to just rub your hands against the sensitive parts of your body. be slow and gentle, we're not rushing anything.
as your hands drift from your neck, down to the hills of your breasts, and to the edge of your panties, ellie speaks through the line again.
doesn't it feel nice, baby?
mhm.
wish i could be there, to watch you, touching your pussy.
you instinctively clamp your thighs, feeling heat rush to your core.
alright, take your panties off. slowly.
you slowly peel the piece of material off, looking at the small, wet spot that formulated on your underwear.
okay, they're off.
such a good girl, following my every command.
you gulp, her nickname for you sending shivers up your spine.
slowly feel the skin on your legs. stroke your inner thighs, tease yourself a little.
hanging off on her every word, you let out a shaky breath, the heat in your cunt growing only bigger and bigger.
god, i wish i can be there to see this right now. bet you look so good, thighs spread apart, pussy all wet— all because of me.
i- i'm aching. i need more, ellie.
i know, baby, i know. i wish i can help you more. if it were up to me, i'd have you bent over your desk, taking you from the back. fuck.
your mind drifts to that image, of her fucking you, taking you as hers. a stream of your slick begins to leak out from your pussy. god, you wanted her so bad.
slide a finger between your pussy, baby. let me hear how wet you are.
spreading your thighs apart, the tip of your fingers slips in between the folds of your pussy lips, the slick sound of your wetness echoing throughout the room. loud enough for ellie to hear.
fuuuuuck.
i-
you tried to speak, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic whimper. ellie's brain was going insane, she couldn't believe where she had you, writhing from her mere words.
go ahead, pretty girl. rub slow circles on your clit.
the pads of your pointer and middle finger gently rub steady, figure 8's against your hardened nub. closing your eyes, you imagined ellie, and how it was her hand instead of yours. the thought had you panting, faint breaths releasing from your parted lips.
your pussy sounds so wet, holy shit. you sound so fucking good for me. so fucking perfect.
as your fingers continue massaging on your sopping, wet clit, a pool of wetness gathers right below your ass.
how does it feel, baby?
f-feels amazing, ellie.
you let out a low whimper.
i wish you were here.
me too, pup. me too.
you can hear her heavy breaths from the other end of the phone.
i wish i could be there, kissing your neck. trailing my lips down to suck on your nipples. fuuck, wanna taste every inch of your skin. i wanna feel your pussy tighten around my fingers.
you let out another pitiful moan, only to hear ellie curse under her breath again.
rub your pussy faster for me, angel. imagine it's me, pumping my fingers in and out. would daddy's pretty girl like that?
you couldn't respond. all you could let out was these weak whines, yearning for ellie and her touch. you added a third finger, building onto the pressure and picking up the speed.
your moans sound so pretty. wonder how'd they sound when you're taking my strap. gonna have you cry out my name, yeah? isn't that right?
mhm, yes, daddy.
good. that's what daddy likes to hear, such a polite girl.
with your eyes rolling back, you could feel your orgasm building.
i-i'm gonna— ellie, i—
you gonna cum for me, puppy? huh? c'mon, rub faster, baby. i know you have a little bit more left in you.
your fingers speed up, the sound of your wetness gushing out reverberated in ellie's ear.
oh my god, daddy can i? please? can i—
arching your back, you knew you were close. the feeling was getting to be too much and you were about to fall over the edge.
look at my baby, so respectful and asking permission. come on, pretty puppy. cum for daddy. let daddy hear how good she made you feel.
that was it. letting out a penetrating moan, you rode your orgasm out and finished all over your fingers, making a mess. you were heaving, chest rapidly rising and falling.
god, i made a mess.
oh, yeah? do one more thing for me. suck your fingers clean. puppies clean up their messes.
monday, 8:57pm → 3:01:32 ongoing call with ellie (jackson, WY)
after your little self-care session with ellie, she took it upon herself to get your mind off of today's events, filling your conversation with stories and interesting topics.
oh, forgot to ask, what'd you end up getting on that biology quiz?
ughhh, i got a 65 out of 100. one of the reasons why i was so upset today.
seriously? how?
i don't know! i asked professor gonzalez and she told me that i was focusing on the wrong thi-
wait, did you just say professor gonzalez? holy shit, you're taking biology 201 with professor g? do you fucking go to school at university of wyoming? in jackson?
oh shit, you didn't mean for that to slip out.
i— uh— i have to go—
wait! sugar! please. hear me out.
you stay silent, waiting for what she had to say.
if we really do go to the same campus, please, let's meet up. i really want to see you.
.....why?
i just— i love talking to you. spending hours with you on the phone is what i look forward to when i get home. besides, i really want to take you out, on a date.
you bit your lip, unsure of what to say.
listen, if you want to see me too, meet me at the library in building B, by the comic book section. okay? tomorrow at 1pm.
....
i really hope you come.
the line clicks off, and you spend the rest of the night restless, tossing and turning, debating whether or not to see her tomorrow.
tuesday, 2:50pm
ellie eagerly checked her phone again, bouncing her knee in distress. her mind was running rampant — fuck, she's not gonna come. maybe jesse was right. maybe i was wasting my time.
looking up for the 80th time, she scans the comic book section, seeing no one else but some dude with his face buried in a wonder woman comic.
as ellie gets up from her chair, she turns her head, and she freezes.
there you were, looking like an angel who entered from the garden of eden. ellie's heart sped up, seeing her girl standing before her. you were everything she could've imagined and better.
walking slowly towards the brunette, you brush a piece of hair from your face, and smile meekly.
"hi ellie, it's me."
pls let me know how this fic was, i tried out a new writing style & read pt 2 here <3
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feyascorner · 4 months
Note
Ok but what if tav is the hero of baldurs gate right, the god killer, slayer of the chosen three, savior of the emerald grove etc etc and after all that is told they had this incurable illness that the parasite had only slowed down. Now, with it gone, it’s progressing again and Tav can’t help but feel so stupid, weak even, that such a mighty hero could be struck by the weaknesses of their own body
Maybe pushes everyone away when they find out, too afraid to tell them that after everything they’ve been through after surviving all of that that they were going to die anyways
AND THEN ASTARIONS REACTION!!! Because surely he would not take that news sitting down (if he found out at all)
a/n. anon how did you know this type of prompt is exactly my cup of tea <33
It's not fair.
You did everything right. You saved the grove, the Tieflings, the Druids, the gnomes, the city, and even those who did not deserve saving, you always came to their aid. You've slayed gods, mind flayers, githyanki, even a bloody elder brain. And now, finally, after so long, with the brain having been defeated, and nothing but pure bliss occupying your headspace, you think you finally have time to relax.
Instead, you're reeled over the bathroom sink, eyes blurry from how much your body seems hellbent on making you miserable.
Ah, you remember. No matter what you've done for others, no matter what you've sacrificed, you're reduced to nothing but a sick patient. One that has no hope for a cure.
The months spent with little to do with your illness has left it to come back tenfold, and now all you can do is grovel on the bathroom floor, head in your hands as you understand that this is all you were meant to amount to. In the end, you were always destined to rot away by yourself and succumb to this gods forsaken disease. You are no hero. This is what you truly are---the pitiful remains of someone who longed for more.
The weeks following the defeat of the elder brain are filled with mournful streets for those who lost their lives and the joyous laughter of those who live on for them. Celebration--though it's difficult with half the taverns having collapsed in the battle--is not out of the ordinary. Strangers and friends alike come together every night, singing praises to whichever gods they worship. Your companions are no exception.
But each and every time, you deny their offers. You've become quite skilled at making up excuses about feeling tired, about having errands to run, or having loose ends to tie up. In reality, you're a coward. Despite the trust they put in you, you cannot provide it back--not in matters like this. Not when you've all been through so much, just for your own journey to amount to nothing.
It's not like you haven't known about this disease. You knew your death was imminent. But now, after experiencing just a fraction of what life has to offer, you no longer want to let go.
It's just not fair.
For what seems to be the millionth time this week, you hear someone knock at your door. Whichever one of your companions it is, you don't bother taking a step from your bed, face still planted into your sheets. You don't have the energy to move, and the useless healing herbs scattered across the room don't exactly hide your secret. So instead of standing, you bury your face deeper into your bed.
"You can't stay in there forever."
You flinch as you realize it's a voice you've dreaded hearing. One that invokes so much love yet fear as you remember that if you see him right now, it might be your last. And you don't want that. Not at all.
"I don't know what we've done to make you push us away like this," he says through the door, and your fist tightens in front of your chest. "But this is getting ridiculous, darling. You have to come out eventually."
You remain silent.
"Gods, just--" he stops, and you can hear the hesitance in his voice. You swear it almost cracks a little. "--Have I done something wrong?"
At this, you're suddenly on your feet, rushing to push yourself against the door, but unwilling to open in. "No, Astarion, you haven't done anything wrong. Don't you dare think that way."
You can hear him shift. "Then why do you avoid me? The others, I can understand, but me?...I mean, I thought we were more than that..."
"We are, it's just..."
"Just what?"
The final thread of your resolve snaps, and you reach toward your lock. Your hand falters for a moment, but you eventually open the door slowly. And if the way his face falls tells you anything, you must look absolutely dreadful.
"Oh, my sweet, what's happened to you?" he whispers, his eyes widening even more when he sees the mess of your home behind you. The clothes all over the floor, the blinds shut despite there being no sunlight to shield from, the healing potions and herbs messily tossed around...you'd feel ashamed if you weren't so tired already.
"...Are you sick?" he steps inside, taking his time to take in the state of what you call home. When you don't answer, he whips around to you, alarmed. "You're sick. Is it a cold? Flu?"
You shake your head, sick of having to lie to the one person you don't want to deceive. "It's a long story."
"I'm undead, darling. I have all the time in the world."
"It's not a very nice story."
"If I wanted a nice story, I'd be listening to a bard someplace else," he says, and you feel your eyes bubble with tears as he steps closer. "What's happened?"
The words spill out like vomit, and you're soon telling him what's been weighing on you for so long. You find yourself sliding down to the ground, and he goes with you, letting you grasp desperately at the sleeves of his shirt while you tell him everything. You can barely breathe with how fast your talking but you're afraid you won't say everything if you get any slower. The entire time, he just stares at you, his arms circled around you, and only when you're done does his gaze finally flicker.
"...Surely, there must be a cure." He's suddenly glancing around the entire room, at pieces of herbs. "Surely, at least one of these would--"
"None of them work, Astarion."
"Then we can find the finest healers in the city--we can even go back to that damn druid, and ask him."
"I've tried."
"Well, you haven't tried hard enough, obviously, if you haven't found a bloody cure!"
You give him one hard look--one with dark bags under your eyes and a weariness that stretches on for weeks--and his temper seems to cool. His shoulders slump, but he reaches for your hand, rubbing his thumb against your skin. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I just felt so weak," you whisper. "I didn't want you to think that too."
Immediately, his eyes harden, and he takes both sides of your face in his hands. "No. I don't think you're weak, and that's not going to change. You've proven yourself more than I can count, and I know you enough to know that you can't let it end like this, love. You can't leave like this."
"Astarion..."
He shakes his head. "I won't let this take you from me. There have been too many opportunities for us to lose each other, and we've overcome them all. We'll just do it again. We'll go to the most skilled healers in Faerun. We'll go to all of them if we have to, and we'll start tomorrow."
You can feel yourself tear up again, and he kisses your tears away while you sob in his arms.
"I'll save you," he mumbles against your temple. "Even if it's the last thing I do."
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iheartamberfreeman · 4 months
Text
You are the best thing that's ever been mine
Clarisse La Rue x Fem!PoseidonCabin!Reader
summary: You and Clarisse have been anonymous pen pals and when identities are revealed it all goes south
warnings: swearing, slight angst, fluff, Clarisse is kinda a bitch at first, not proof read
a/n: I hope this is what you wanted! I added a little twist to it, I hope that's ok. I may have self projected just a bit, the request didn't say a specific cabin so l put mine. Yes I'm a cabin 3 girlie. I had to write in the catradora line, it would’ve bothered me if I didn't take the opportunity. Best wing girl award goes to… Amaris! Amaris is in cabin 6 aka Athena btw. I actually had a lot of fun writing Amaris and Y/n's friendship hehe. Also if you’d like to listen to the song while reading there’s a link below :)
Mine by Taylor Swift
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You and Clarisse have been anonymous pen pals for a couple months now. You accidentally left a note you had written where you talked about your favorite book which coincidentally was Clarisse's too and ever since you both have been leaving notes for each on the very same spot every day, every few days or even every week. You don't like Clarisse because she bullies other campers and Clarisse doesn't like you because you're one of the only people who have actually stood up to her, at least, that’s what she tells herself.
You watch as Clarisse shoved Percy then proceeded to push him on the floor with a frown. You walk up to Clarisse after you watched the girl walk away from Percy, "Leave the new kid alone princess. Quit being a bitch," You hiss as you cross your arms. Clarisse's brows furrow, "Did you just call me a bitch?" She takes a threatening step towards you, "Why don't you come closer and say that again?" Her tone is challenging.
You stepped closer to the girl and looked up at Clarisse, "I said quit being a bitch princess.” You said the word ‘princess’ in the same mocking tone you always did. Clarisse's eyes flash with anger and she lunges forward, grabbing your shirt and pulling you close so your faces are inches apart. You gave her a smug smile before your smile shifted into a smirk and ignored the hammering of your heart, "What? You gonna kiss me or something princess?" You teased.
A scowl settles on Clarisse's features when she feels her cheeks flush and she roughly shoves you away from her, "You're so fucking infuriating" She spits. You give her another smug smile as you shrug, "I try" then you turn around and leave. Clarisse watches you go with a mix of frustration and satisfaction. She turns around, muttering under her breath about you before heading back to her cabin.
-
The next day, you walked around the library and went to grab the note in your favorite book but before you could, Clarisse snatched the book from you. Her eyes are wide and she looks nervous like she’s hiding something. "What are you doing?" Clarisse demands, holding the book against her chest protectively. "Why does it matter Clarisse?" You said, rolling your eyes before reaching out towards the book, "Give me the book."
"No." Clarisse crosses her arms over the book, "You’re just trying to sneak a peek at my notes." She hisses, taking a step closer to you as her eyes narrowed. You looked at the Ares girl with wide eyes like you had just seen a ghost, "Your notes?..." You asked softly. Clarisse finally lets out a small sigh, her eyes still narrowed as she watches you, "Yeah, my notes." She nods, "Why are you so interested in them anyways?" Her brow furrows in confusion.
"Clarisse... I'm the one who’s been writing you," You replied softly, thinking about everything you’ve talked about and how sweet the Ares girl was in contrast to her normal demeanor. Clarisse's eyes widened in surprise, and she took a step back, "What?" She stammers, looking at you like you've grown another head. She glances down at the book in her arms, then back up to you, "You've... been writing me?"
You nod, "I mean if you've been writing notes and leaving them in that book then yes," You point to the book in Clarisse's arms. Clarisse looks at the book then back up to you, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Oh," She mutters, running her fingers through her hair, seemingly at a loss for words. She looks conflicted about the whole thing before she decides to do what she does best in these type of situations, run. After a moment, Clarisse clears her throat, "I have to go," then she shoves the book in your hands before quickly taking her leave.
-
You tried to find Clarisse to talk to her but you couldn't find the girl anywhere. You’d catch a glimpse of her at times but the minute you tried to walk over to her, she's gone. After a while of the same dance, you’ve realized she’s been avoiding you and it was driving you crazy. All you can think about is how sweet the girl was to you when you both didn't know who the other was. You always found the Ares girl attractive and had a little crush on her but that little crush grew into something bigger once you realized that she was the one you were writing the whole time.
You’re currently with your best friend, Amaris, laying in her bed as you talk. "Am, I can't stop thinking about her," You sighed. Amaris looks at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "You mean the girl who's been avoiding you for two weeks?" She teases gently. "Well, maybe it's time to confront her then." You look at Amaris with wide eyes, "That's like the worst advice you could give me when it comes to Clarisse," You mumble, "Who knows how she'll react.” Amaris shrugs, propping her chin on her hand. "So you can keep stewing in uncertainty, or you can take the plunge and see what happens. Either way, you're not going to stop thinking about her until you try."
You look at Amaris, still uncertain. "What would I even say to her?" Amaris grins mischievously, "How about ‘I know you’ve been avoiding me for a while, but I can't stop thinking about you.' Something like that should get her attention." You laugh softly, "Yeah that could get her attention I guess. Maybe a fist to the face too if she's generous enough." “Well, you know what they say, 'Nothing ventured, nothing gained'." Amaris winks, clearly enjoying teasing you. "And hey, maybe she'll surprise you. You never know with her." You nod, "I'll try to talk to her tonight at the bonfire."
"Good luck. You're gonna need it," Amaris says playfully. "Don't forget to let me know how it goes." You blew a kiss to Amaris, "Thanks. I will Am," then you hug her before leaving the Athena cabin. With a smile, Amaris watches as you leave. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, knowing that things might get interesting tonight.
-
That night, you muster up all the courage you can and head to the bonfire. The air is filled with laughter and music as campers gather around, enjoying each others company. As you approach the bonfire, you see Amaris chatting with a group of other campers. She notices you and gives you a small wave before turning back to her friends. Taking a deep breath, you make your way over to her. You put your hand on Amaris' shoulder and smile, "Hey Am." Amaris turns to look at you, her face softening into a warm smile. "Hey Y/n," she replies, gesturing for you to join the group.
You smile as you greet Amaris' friends before looking back at her, "Girl, who are you trying to impress today?" You tease, "You look hot." Amaris rolls her eyes, but can't help but smile as she replies, "I always look good babes and you look pretty damn hot yourself." She nudges you gently, a mischievous glint in her eye. You grin, gently nudging the girl back, "Flattery will get you no where Am." Amaris raises an eyebrow at you, clearly enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Well then," she says with a grin, "Maybe I should start thinking about upping the ante."
You look at Amaris, giving her a playful apologetic look. "Sorry babes, my heart belongs to another." Amaris laughs lightly, the sound filling the air. "Ah yes, I remember hearing about that certain someone." She teases. "Have you seen her?" You shake your head, "Not yet. Have you?" Amaris shrugs her shoulders, "I saw her head to the bathroom with some of the Ares kids. I think she went to give the new kid their welcome gift." You frown at that, “You think she’d learn her lesson after Percy.” "You gonna go find your knight in shining armor?" Amaris says with a mischievous grin.
You sigh softly, "Yeah, I might go look for her in a bit." Amaris smiles warmly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well remember, when you do, don’t forget to let me know. l'd love to hear all about it." She takes a sip of her drink and adds casually, "Good luck." You nod, "I know, I know. Thanks Am." Amaris waves her hand dismissively, a small smile playing on her lips. "Always," She says before gently nudging you and gesturing at something, "The princess has arrived." You turn to look at what Amaris gestured to and see Clarisse. Your heart skips a beat as you take in how beautiful the girl looks.
Clarisse wore a red crop top and black cargo pants. You couldn’t help but think the girl looked absolutely breathtaking, she always did. Amaris looks at you with a smug grin, "Careful lovergirl, you might start drooling," She teases. You turn to look at Amaris, blushing softly as you roll your eyes, "Shut up." Amaris bursts out laughing, shaking her head at you playfully. "All right, all right," She chuckles, taking another sip of her drink. "Go talk to your princess then." You look at Amaris, uncertain, "I'm beginning to think this is a bad idea Am. What if she makes fun of me?"
Amaris rolls her eyes, "And how is that different from any other day? Just go talk to her." You nod and take a deep breath, walking over to Clarisse before you can change your mind again, "Hey princess." Despite all the other times you've called her princess, this one came out soft, not mocking like it usually does. Clarisse sighs before looking up at you with a raised eyebrow, "What do you want?" She asks bluntly. "You," You reply casually before blushing when you realize what you said. "I mean you cause I want to talk to you," You stutter out.
Clarisse can't help but smirk at your blush and stuttering. "Well, aren't you sweet?" She says sarcastically. "I don't want to talk to you." You frown, slightly hurt by her words, "Just answer one question and I'll leave you alone. Please." Clarisse narrows her eyes at you, "What's the question?" She asks warily. "Why have you been avoiding me?" You ask softly. Clarisse sighs again, clearly not expecting that question. She shrugs lightly, trying to play it off casually. "I wasn't avoiding you. Just, you know... busy training."
"Bullshit," You reply. "Every time I see you and try to talk to you, you disappear." Clarisse rolls her eyes. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. So just leave me alone." She says firmly, turning away from you. You frown, "Clarisse just tell me the truth.” "The truth? Fine," Clarisse snaps, turning back to face you with fire in her eyes. "I was avoiding you because I'm not interested in some pathetic little crush you have on me," She shouts, the words coming out harsher than she intended. You felt your heart shatter and tears well up in your eyes.
Clarisse's eyes widen and she internally winces at the sight of you trying to hold back tears. For a moment, she feels a pang of guilt, but quickly pushes it aside. You look around, feeling eyes on you before looking back at Clarisse. "Ok… got it. I’ll leave you alone" and with that you walk away from the Ares girl. You kept walking even as you heard Amaris call out for you and left the bonfire. Clarisse's eyes narrow at Amaris, she felt a pang of jealousy course through her which changed to satisfaction as she watched you ignore her and continue walking. Amaris turns to Clarisse and walks over to her, "What the fuck did you say to her?" She said, glaring at the Ares girl.
Clarisse shrugs nonchalantly. "I told her to leave me alone," she explains. "I'm clearly not interested in being friends with her." She takes a sip of her drink, unfazed by Amaris' glare. Amaris rolls her eyes, "Me and you both know that's total bullshit La Rue," she spat before adding, "I've seen the way you look at her, even before you realized she was the one writing you." Clarisse's expression becomes cold and defensive. "What are you talking about?" she asks sharply. "I don't look at her like anything." She steps closer to Amaris, their eyes locked in a fierce stare down.
Amaris looks up at Clarisse, seething at her. "Cut the shit Clarisse. I know you like her, it's so obvious. You stare at her as if you were in love with her." A small spark of irritation flashes in Clarisse's eyes. She's not used to people seeing through her. "Fine," she says through gritted teeth. "If you must know, yes, I do have feelings for her." "You two are fucking stupid. You don't want to admit you like her, she can't and won't believe you like her no matter how many times I tell her," Amaris adds. "Stop being a fucking jackass and go find her. Y/n is one of the sweetest girls I know and she’s madly in love with you. You'd be fucking dumb as fuck to pass up the opportunity to be with a girl as amazing as her."
Clarisse is taken aback by Amaris' words. She can't deny that she feels something for you but she's not used to expressing her emotions in such a vulnerable way. "You're right," she says, taking a deep breath. Amaris grins, "Of course I'm right, I'm always right. Now get the fuck out of here. Y/n's probably by the river near cabin 3." Nodding, Clarisse heads out towards the river, her heart pounding in anticipation. She's nervous but determined to express her feelings to you. After a brief walk, Clarisse spots you sitting by the river, you head bowed as you dangle your feet in the water. Clarisse approaches cautiously, clearing her throat to get your attention.
You turn around to face Clarisse with a tear stained face, your eyes widening when you realize it's the Ares girl. Clarisse's heart sinks at the sight of you. She knows she's the reason for your pain, and it hurts her deeply. "Y/n," Clarisse says softly, taking a seat next to you on the riverbank. "I just wanted to apologize for earlier." She swallows hard, feeling her cheeks redden a bit. "I... I might have been a bit harsh with you." You look at Clarisse, giving her an unimpressed look. "Oh you think?" You snap sarcastically. Clarisse internally winces at your harsh tone, but she understands your anger. "I guess I deserved that," she says, hanging her head in shame. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have treated you like that."
You look away from her and towards the river, thinking for a moment before turning back to Clarisse. "Gonna have to come up with something better than that." Clarisse takes a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Y/n, I'm really sorry for how I acted earlier," she says, looking into your eyes earnestly. "I was wrong to treat you that way. You mean a lot to me and I hope you'll give me another chance to make it up to you." "You know it's funny cause Amaris would tell me you liked me back all the time but I never wanted to confess because I knew there was no way l'd ever have a chance with you. I guess I was right," You said as you wiped tears off your face.
Clarisse frowns, Amaris told her this but hearing it from you somehow made it worse. How could you believe you'd never have a chance with her? "But you do have a chance Y/n," she replied, adding, "Don't you get it? I love you. I've always have." You look at Clarisse with wide eyes, "Then why did you avoid me like I was the plague? Why didn't you say that back at the bonfire?" You ask softly, like you’re scared that you might scare the Ares girl away. Clarisse swallows hard as she avoided your gaze. "I-I didn't know how to react back then. All my life, I've hidden my vulnerability just so l wouldn't seem weak to my father...and I know that's obviously no excuse for my behavior but that’s why. I'm so so sorry Y/n. I never meant to hurt you.”
You look away from Clarisse again and think about something before speaking up. "Just promise me you'll try to be more vulnerable with me in the future Clar,” you say softly before turning back to the Ares girl. Clarisse's eyes widened in surprise at your request. She didn't know if she could make such a promise, but she knew she wanted to try for you. "I promise I'll try Y/n." You smile softly in response and stay silent, taking in how beautiful the Ares girl looked under the moonlight. Clarisse gazed back at you with an intensity that made your heart flutter. "You're so beautiful angel," She murmured softly. Your soft smile turned into a grin at the compliment and you could feel butterflies forming in your stomach.
"And you're gorgeous princess," You mumbled just as soft. Clarisse's cheeks flushed at your compliment. "Thank you," she whispered, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She moved closer to you, unable to resist the urge to be more near you. Your eyes flickered between Clarisse's eyes and her lips. You resisted the urge to lean in, still scared of the possibility of scaring the Ares girl away. Clarisse sensed your hesitation, but she didn't want to push you away. She wanted to be close to you, to feel the warmth of your presence. "Can I kiss you angel?" She asked softly. You nod immediately, leaning in just a bit to meet Clarisse half way.
Clarisse's heart was racing as your lips met in a soft, tentative kiss. It was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced before; filled with tenderness and vulnerability that she had never allowed herself to show. She deepened the kiss, feeling warmth spreading through her body. You return the kiss with a soft smile, feeling like your heart is beating out of your chest. Clarisse's hands moved up to cup your face, her fingers tangling in your hair as she lost herself in the kiss. It was like a spark had ignited inside of her, and she couldn't get enough.
You pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, "Does this mean we're dating now?" You asked softly, trying to hide your hopeful tone of voice. Clarisse rolled her eyes at you but she couldn’t hide the smile on her face, "Yes," she replied simply. “We're dating dumbass." She leaned in to kiss you again, but paused, looking into your eyes. "I know it's probably too early for this but I already said it so fuck it... I love you Y/n." You look at Clarisse with adoration in your eyes and grin, "I love you too Clarisse," then you closed the distance and pulled her into another kiss.
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harleehazbinfics · 3 months
Text
Love eat?
Alastor x cannibal servant!reader
Original Concept | Additional Concept
Word count: 1764
A/N: sup im back with more crack, jk. but yeahhh i did a oneshot of that imagine and now we're here. i've channeled my inner crazy and that led me to this oneshot lmao, sorry if it's not up to par but pls enjoooooyyyy!
ps I can't find the artist pls help. chainsaw man falling devil spoiler sorry
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“Yuta!” you called your boyfriend from where you sat waiting for him.
“Sorry, I'm late,” he says with an apologetic smile, placing his bag to his side while he sat in front of me.
“No, it's ok! You're doing your best in school. I was the one who asked you to eat with me anyway,” you responded clapping your hands together, appealing cutely to your boyfriend.
“But you're busy with your culinary classes too. I'm sure you're working harder than I am!” He replied, making you smile at how genuine he sounded.
You reached inside your bag and presented 2 lunch boxes in front of him. His eyes widen in anticipation while you opened them, revealing a well plated pork cutlet and a healthy salad in the other lunch box.
“I have! I learnt a few new things during class, and I wanted you to be the first to eat my cooking. I hope you like them!” He smiles at you, flattered that he was the first thing on your mind when you made the meal. He always loved your cooking.
The both of you met when you were first years, he was just roaming the halls familiarizing himself with the school layout when he heard you squealing inside a room and helped you put out a small fire that you accidentally created while you stayed behind in the Economics Room to relearn the basics taught to you that day. So, he stayed with you until the end so that you won't set the whole room on fire this time, and as thanks you gave the meal you completed to him afterwards. As he tasted it, threw it back up when he tasted how salty it was, so you resolved yourself that you'd make a decent meal for him, and that's where your friendship to relationship started.
“Wow! You've really outdone yourself this time!” He yells with stars in his eyes, savoring each bite.
You laughed at him and pushed the salad closer to him, and said, “You can eat all of it. It's all for you!”
“Really? Thanks a lot! It's so great to have you as my girlfriend!”
-=-=-=-
“Yuta?” you asked with wide eyes as you eyed the knife in his hand that was pointed at you.
“I-I can't take it anymore. I don't want to eat any food you make for me anymore, it’s disgusting. I don’t want to eat humans! I hate it, I hate it, I HATE YOU!” He screamed lunging at you.
He pushes the knife to your stomach, a few moments later you feel the metallic taste in your throat, letting the liquid drop from your tongue as you took has face that held great remorse for you. You smiled at the pretty expression on his face and rubbed your thumb on his cheeks, smearing it with your own blood.
"How pretty. I love all the expressions you make. Do it more," you coughed out.
His expression changes from fear to disgust and anger. Vengefully, he takes your wrists binding them together in his forceful grip and continues to stab you until you died from the pain and blood loss. However, despite your body tensing and losing color on you face, he never stopped. After his knife slipped out of his hands from your blood, he threw himself at you and bit into your neck.
Devouring you. Bit by bit.
---
You've been aimlessly roaming around hell and chopping sinners with your cleaver that were dumb enough to pick a fight with you. At the moment, you sat on top of a building waiting for something to happen while eating an beefy arm starting from the shoulder.
While you were gnawing at it with a blank expression on your face. You were surprised when a massive green explosion appeared out of nowhere, inducing a few screams of terror.
Just a couple blocks in front of you, you see a giant red deer demon with black tentacles coming out his back as he crushed sinners in his hands and consuming them.
You immediately dropped the arm you were holding and watched as the overlord showed off his power against you, sinners. Unable to hold yourself, you followed his parade of chaos and squeaked when he appears behind you wiping his mouth with a napkin.
"How rude of you to follow me around, while I was playing with my meal," he remarks with a snarky tone.
You got distracted with his voice. How could someone be so seductive with a radio filter on, you ask yourself.
"It's also rude to stare, you know?" He adds, starting to get pissed off by how unresponsive you were as you just kept gawking at him.
"I was just admiring how powerful you were, sir! I've never seen a demon turn into that kind of form. I-I was enchanted!" You yelled at him, hands clasped together while fan-girling at his abilities with hearts in your eyes.
"My, I've never seen such behavior from a person such as you. Are you eager to be eaten?" He laughs before his eyes turning black leaving his red pupils and radio dial iris.
"Yes! I would be happy to!" You answered almost immediately, making him revert to his normal self, getting caught off guard with your reply.
He hums turning his head in confusion and irritation, “Well, that just won’t do. I only like it when my prey gets scared rather than having a sacrifice like you.”
He tries to ride away in his shadow but before he could do so, he halts in his steps when you step in front of him. “Please! I’ll act scared! I’ll do anything! I just want to be with you!” you cried dropping to the floor pathetically making him deadpan to the sight.
He huffs, and turns his back at you, “Hmm. Do what you wish.”
With that, you stayed and served Alastor for years. You’ve arranged deals for him, did his bidding on some occasions and even represented him a few times in meetings. However, your main occupation was his personal chef.
Sure, one could argue that he likes his meats raw and cooks for himself sometimes. But do you expect that man to cook every meal for himself for a nearly a century? Overlords don’t have that much free time, you know? (or at least that what Sir Alastor says) and you happily take on this task when he discovers that you were an excellent chef, living up to his own impossible standards.
However, you find yourself in a very peculiar situation.
“(y/n)? Is it really you?”
You’ve come face to face with your first love and your killer. You couldn’t help but leap up from you position and hug him while he did his best to get away from you.
“Yuta! You’re finally in here! I knew you’d come to find me, hehe,” you cried still hugging him while he struggled in your mighty grip. “I’ve been waiting for you, y’know?” you said to him with your eyes darkening at him giving him the familiar dangerous look in your eye making him tense up and unconsciously threw you across the room with his strength.
You didn’t hit the impact when Alastor raised his arms and caught you before placing you on your feet, ignoring your heart-eyes as usual.
“And who is this with you?” he asks the group, almost sneering at the new man.
“This is Yuta! He’s our new guest! We found him in Cannibal Town, and he asked us where we were, he’s now he's here!” Charlie introduces excitedly holding Yuta by the shoulder.
“Ooh, is he a bad boy?” Nifty asks looking flirtatiously.
“Why, of course! He’s the one that killed me after all!” I announced with a smile. “Isn’t that right, dear?”
He rolls his eyes and says to Charlie, “I’ll be fine anywhere as long as I don’t get involved with her. I’ll find a room myself.”
You all watch as he shows himself to one of the rooms while Charlie replies, “Uhh, ookayyy?”
“So, what’s with you and that guy?” Angel first asks, “There’s a lot of sexual and… psychological tension there.”
“Yeah, and what do you mean he killed you?” Vaggie continues, while all of them looked at you.
“Oh, you know, couple fights. One thing led to another and poof, I was gone,” you explained simply with a laugh, making Nifty laugh as well.
“So, you two dated?” Angel asked in surprise.
“Exactly, why?” I smiled at him.
“Uhh, sure. He just looks like a boy failure to me. How the fuck could he bag a hottie like you!” Angel laughs throwing his head back.
"What a crazy bitch," Husk comments blankly looking at you before peeking at Alastor's annoyed face making him raise his long brow.
You tilt you head to the side confused, before Charlie would come in and say that she’d explain it to you.
A few weeks gone by, and you didn’t stop pestering your ex with things he hated when you couldn’t get enough of the expressions on his face. You loved seeing him get so angry with you, you just loved getting on his nerve. Or it could be some fucked up enjoyment of how you remembered being eaten by him half dead that sent chills to your body every time.
“That’s it! I’ve had enough of your shit!” he yells bursting in flames.
“Oh, what? Cat got your tongue baby boy?” you teased him hands behind your back trying to annoy him.
“Oh, fuck you!” he screams as he runs forward at you trying to land a punch which you jump away from effortlessly.
He eventually tires himself out and sees you giving the deer demon googly eyes that ticks him off. He loads up a fire blast and shoots it at Alastor. You intercepted it in between not noticing him following behind it and takes hold of you neck choking you.
“Not bad,” you wheeze out with a wicked grin, setting him off and squeezing your neck tighter.
He fails to notice the black portal underneath him where a black tentacle reaches out to his ankle and wraps around his body, making him let go off you.
“I’d rather you not mess with my property if I were you,” Alastor announces menacingly as he had you in his arms. You feel starstruck as you were being princess carried and being defended by the one you admired. “I don’t like sharing, so this is my last warning for both of you to not get involved with each other.”
“Yes, sir! Anything for you!” you scream your heart out that felt like it was beginning to burst out of your chest and leap in your throat, while you give him heart eyes that he ignored, while he brought both of you to his chambers.
"Are you finally going to eat me, Sir Alastor?"
"Shut your mouth before I stitch it up for you."
"Yes, sir! I love you! 💕"
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mydearesthrry · 10 months
Text
harry’s house home - h.s.
a/n: this is the cheesiest thing ive ever written okay. like its really sweet and almost cringey oopssss sorry. i hope you enjoy anyway !!! (p.s. originally was supposed to be titled harrys mojo dojo casa house but thats for another time)
🎀 warnings/cw: angst, swearing?? i actually dk, fluff, mention of flying anxiety, this is also completely unedited
🐇 pairing: famous!bf!harry styles x fem!reader
💐 wc: 2.1k
summary: it's not home without harry, you've come to realize.
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This almost felt like a routine now. 
Lying awake in her king sized bed, she was staring up at projected stars on the ceiling, gnawing on her bottom lip as she let her mind drift away in thought. 
She misses him. Again. 
Due to Harry being on the second Europe/UK leg of tour, she had decided to stay at home for a little until the final show, and it had been a good month since she last saw Harry. She had begun to run on Harry’s time, adjusting her sleep to wherever in the world he was so that she could talk to him. Their time zone differences weren’t gracious enough sadly, and she was wide awake at 3:40 in the morning. 
Harry was busy so she couldn’t call or text him, and she wanted to let everything go as smoothly as they could so he could finally come home. Initially, she let herself be selfish and a bit greedy and took up almost 10 minutes of his time, texting back and forth and allowing her brain to read his responses in his voice. 
Contrary to popular belief, it was easy for y/n and Harry to have a relationship that could withstand whatever problems they may have faced because they communicated, but communication can only get you so far. 
She missed him. 
All-consumingly, selfishly, and overwhelmingly missed him. 
The amount of rocky moments that the couple had endured on the nearly 3 year long running tour had been more than the past 4 years of their relationship combined. Whether it be a schedule conflict, missed dates, late nights when she didn’t even know if he’d be home, nothing could compare to the feeling that she had swirling around in her chest right now. 
They’d gotten into a fight a few days ago and since then she had been hesitant to text and call him in fear that she would ruin his day, or even worse, his shows. She knew well that he wouldn’t let it show to his millions of fans, but she could read him like an open book and the guilt that would swell in her body would just make her shut down. But it was getting hard to be alone. It was hard being in such a big house that was filled to the brim with reminders of him, which in turn would remind her that she was alone and that he was on the other side of the world.
She allowed her emotions to take the reins, and as she slowly started to feel everything, she could feel a harsh tug in her chest. She put a hand to her heart, letting out a deep exhale as she felt the familiar sting of tears tingle her nose, sinuses becoming stuffy immediately. She scrunched up her nose, allowing the tears to fill her eyes as she let out her first breathy sob. It wasn’t uncommon for her now to cry over missing Harry. In fact, she’s never even told him the extent of how much she missed him, and just tried to deal with it on her own. But this time, she didn’t feel like she was strong enough to just let it pass. 
Picking up her phone, she quickly pulled up her favorites list in her phone, sobs still wracking her body as she tapped on Harry’s contact. She sniffled and tried her best to calm herself down as she heard the ringing coming from the phone signifying that he was receiving the call. 
“Hey, ‘M in a meeting. Everything ok?” And just like that, the entire dam broke open, and she let her emotions flood the room she was sitting in. 
“Harry,” she let out a pitiful whine, “I’m sorry I’m calling you like this, I- I knew you were in a meeting, and I’m sorry. And I know we’re in a fight and y’probably don’t want to talk to me, but I just… I need to hear your voice right now.” 
“Oh— um, yeah, hold on, baby. It’s okay, ‘m glad you called me. Give me two seconds, okay? ‘M gonna mute m’self t’tell Jeff I need to take 20, but I’ll be all yours in a sec.” He promises, voice immediately drenched in urgency. 
“Okay,” she whispers weakly, putting the phone on speaker and sinking back down into the mattress, laying the phone on her chest. There was an uncomfortable weight weighing her down from the inside out, and the pressure served as a good reminder to breathe as she anticipated the return of her boyfriend back to the phone. 
“M’kay baby, talk to me. What’s the matter? Are you okay?” His voice exits from her speaker, another whimper emitting from her throat without warning. 
“I jus— God, H. It’s so pathetic,” she sniffles, placing her hands over her eyes. “I jus’ miss you. So much.” 
“Oh lovie,” a few soft shuffles are heard from his end of the line, and you can only assume he found a quiet place to sit down. “I miss y’so so much more.” 
She nods even though she knows he can’t see her, but she knows her sweet boy knows her so well. “‘M trying to be supportive, trying to not freak out about you not being here, but it’s so hard, H.” 
Trying to stifle the aggressive breaths leaving her mouth, she composed the best she can before speaking again. “I just want you to come home. I know I’ll be with you in a couple of days, but I just want you home. ‘M sorry, it’s so selfish of me to say this when you’re all alo-“ 
“Shh, my love. It’s okay. Take deep breaths, can y’do that for me first really quick, sweet girl? Sweet sunshine baby, miss you so much.” Harry cuts her off, knowing that she would cry and gasp her way into a potentially dangerous situation, and he couldn’t handle the thought of her being in danger especially when he wasn’t there. 
“Okay, fuck, ‘M so sorry, H.” She breathes out, voice still wobbly, her breathing becoming a little more stable by the second. 
“You don’t have to be sorry, ‘s what I'm here for, isn’t it? Now, tell me what’s got you so upset that you’ve cried y’self out so hard that y’got a killer headache right now?” His lips quirk up at the soft, barely noticeable laugh coming from the other end of the line. One that probably would’ve gone unnoticed to anyone else, but not to Harry. 
“How’d you know? Hurts like hell, though. But, um— I miss you, a lot, obviously. And I hate that we’ve been fighting more now that you’re on the road again and I’m not with you, it doesn’t feel good because all I want is you here with me. All I want is you to come home. It- it feels so empty without you here.” 
“Princess, I-“ he starts, but she cuts him off before he could continue. 
“In all four years of our relationship, it’s never been so hard for us to be- us? And I thought about it, y’know, been crying myself to death over you, Mr. Styles, you’re quite the heartthrob. Literally.” You snort softly, trying to break the ice. Her lips draw up when she hears a matching chuckle coming from him. 
“Tell me then, what’d you realize, silly girl?” He says. 
“I don’t feel like I can be away form you for too long. It doesn’t feel like home here, and I think,” She whispers. “None of our places feel like home when you're not there. I think home has always been wherever you are.”
“Lovie,” Harry’s voice breaks, a telltale sign that he too was feeling the swell of emotion. “Y’breaking m’heart over here.”
“I’m sorry, I just– y'told me to be honest and you needed-”
“I needed to know. Thank y’for telling me, but I’ll see you so soon, Angel. Actually, I can even-” His voice cuts before more rustling is heard, and she can hear the muffled sounds of Harry’s voice, so she assumes that he’s pressed the phone to his chest. A few more brief hums are heard before a muffled ‘thank you!’ makes her brows furrow. “Right then, what’re you doing in like, say 4 to 5 hours?” 
She makes a confused face at this. “What? Uh– nothing, why?”
“You’re coming home, baby.”
After exclamations of shock were given to Harry, he excuses himself from the call to get back to his meeting, leaving Y/N laying in her bed staring at the same stars that watched her weep in shock. She sits up with her hands on the white duvet, eyes wide as she whispers out, “I have to pack.”
Jumping out of her bed, she wheels her extra large suitcase out of hers and H’s shared walk-in closet, her green Pleasing beach bag already resting on one of the hooks on the bedroom door. A flurry of clothes, toiletries, makeup, and hair equipment gets sporadically thrown around the room, everything ultimately ending up in her suitcase. She places her more important items into her beach bag which now worked as her carry-on, and wheels everything out into the foyer. 
Checking the time which now reads 6:30, she calls for an Uber to arrive at their house to transport her to the LAX airport. Her flight was set to leave in 2 and half hours, leaving her with just enough time to check in, find her gate, and grab a coffee once she's got to her terminal.
The long flight went just as expected, her fear of flying slightly eliminated by the (in her opinion, wildly unnecessary) first-class seating, courtesy of her incredibly dramatic boyfriend. She fell asleep 2 hours into the flight and slept for the majority of the it, her lack of sleep finally catching up to her. Waking up about 30 minutes before landing, she twists her head to open the window door, being greeted with the softest sunset she’s convinced she’s ever seen. And suddenly, her chest doesn’t feel as tight anymore.
The baggage claim was a wreck, delaying her from seeing Harry by another hour, but eventually, she made it into the car of the driver that Harry sent. Staring out the window, the condensation from the weather outside slightly obstructed her view of the beautiful city that she’d never seen before, and all she could think about was how she wanted to experience it with her love. 
“Ma’am, we’re here.” The driver calls from the front, distracting her from her thoughts. Thanking him profusely, she jumps out of the vehicle, running toward the back entrance that Jeff had texted her to go to. The security guard at the door, James, a kind older man who she’s known since she started dating Harry, opens his arms and greets her with a smile. She grins and runs into his arms, James lifting her a little. Her dynamic with James reminded her of the relationship she'd had with her late father, and that made him even more important and special to her. 
“Mi sonrisa,” She looks at him with a bright smile. “Welcome back.” 
“Muchas gracias, te he extrañado,” She greets back, grabbing the VIP pass that he’d pulled out of his pocket. “I’ll see you in a few, thank you for waiting for me!” 
A wide grin is now plastered on her face, nearly splitting her face in half. This is where she belonged. Skipping down the halls of the venue, occasionally asking a worker passing by where the hallways were to get to the dressing rooms. Once she finally found them, she walked up to Harry’s, a nervous twinge making itself known in her tummy. Raising a fist to knock, she taps on the door softly with her knuckles, waiting for Harry to answer the door. She doesn’t even have time to register that the door opened at all before she’s grabbed by Harry and immediately pulled into his arms.
“My sweet love,” His voice is hoarse, strained, almost as if he’d been crying. He pulls her back just enough to see her face, a soft smile on his face and green eyes shiny with tears. He places a kiss on her forehead, before dipping down to be eye level with her and laying the softest kiss on her lips. It was featherlight, and the room was quiet, so quiet, that the only sounds that were heard were their soft, slowly interconnecting breaths, and the soft smack of their lips breaking. Harry stared at her face once more, Y/N sharing the same sentiment, nothing but pure understanding in both of their eyes. It was Y/N who broke first this time, connecting their lips in a deeper, meaningful kiss. 
When they both pulled away, Harry pressed another kiss to her temple before cradling the back of her head with his hand, bringing her face into his neck. Tilting his head down to have his lips leveled with her ear, he whispered, “Welcome home.”
✿✿✿
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tlbodine · 7 months
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Stuck? Try junebugging.
I don't know who needs to hear this, but we're 5 days into nanowrimo so maybe this will be helpful.
Do you want the safety and surety of knowing what happens next in your story but can't stick to an outline? Does knowing in advance what will happen suck the joy out of discovery writing? Do you try to wing it through plots but get tangled in plot holes or have a story that runs out of steam because you can't figure out what went wrong? Are you at your most creative when you have a little bit of guidance? Do you tend to under-write? Do you get ideas in your head for random scenes and snippets that drop from the sky without context?
If any of these apply to you, junebugging a draft might be for you!
What Is Junebugging?
Since you're on Tumblr, you might already be familiar with the concept of junebugging as it relates to cleaning. If not -- I think the idea was first introduced to me by @jumpingjacktrash.
The basic idea is that you tackle cleaning by way of controlled chaos. You pick a specific area you want to focus on, like your kitchen sink, and then wander off to deal with other things as they occur to you, but always returning back to that area. You end up cleaning a little bit at a time in an order that may not make sense to an outsider but which keeps you from getting overwhelmed and discouraged.
How Does Junebugging Work in Writing?
OK, so that's great, but how does this work with writing? Well. In my case, the general idea is to jump between writing linearly, outlining, and writing out of order. It usually looks something like:
Start free-writing a scene, feeling my way through it and enjoying the discovery process.
Thinking, ok, now I have this scene, did anything need to happen to lead up to it? Do I need to go back and add some foreshadowing? Does this scene set anything up that needs to be paid off? And then jump forward/back to make those adjustments.
I'll usually have a bunch of disconnected ideas of ideas that have popped into my head, so I'll write those down in a list somewhere and then try to figure out what goes in between them and what order it goes in.
I'll write what I call "micro-scenes" which is where I'll just sketch out a few essential elements of what's going on without worrying too much about details, description, etc. -- just he did this, she said that, the setting was this, real bare-bones script. Then I can come back through and flesh out each of those microscenes into an actual scene later.
Got a story that has a complex structure? No problem. Write through each storyline one at a time and then chop them up and weave them together afterward. Write all the B plot scenes first then come back through to do A plot and C plot. Move the pieces around like legos. No one ever has to know.
This method works for me because I can't "decide" story elements in advance. I have never been able to just sit down and "figure out" what happens in a story beyond a couple steps ahead -- I have to discovery-write my way forward. But at the same time, that gets really daunting. So I zoom forward with micro-scenes, roughing out the beats in the most bare-bones way possible, then when I run out of clear vision for what happens next I backtrack, flesh out those scenes, build in connective tissue, etc. and by then I will probably find more inspiration to jump forward.
It's basically folding drafting, outlining, and revising all together into a single phase of writing, which is chaotic and goes against everything people teach you, but if it works? then it fuckin works.
Anyway, sorry for the jumbled-up post, I'm dashing this off quickly while I heat up a pizza and I'm about to dive back into my WIP -- but I hope this was a little helpful. If nothing else, take this as my blanket permission that it's 100% OK to jump around, write out of order, write messy, outline sometimes, pants sometimes, and do whatever else it takes just to get through the story. You've got this. Good luck.
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luveline · 5 months
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hey! would you mind writing sirius black x reader (ole flame or something) when they meet for the first time since azkaban at a meeting for the order? thank you and happy holidays!
thank u for requesting, hope this is OK! ♡
—you and sirius both get to go home eventually, 2.2k. fem
You were still kids when Sirius… went away. You thought he hurt James and Lily, and it didn't matter that you loved him because he was evil and cruel and he hurt the people he loved most in the world, and then you were outposted thousands of miles eastward, your life a shadow. 
Remus sent you letters. You always answered, even when it hurt, but his last was too much to believe. You told yourself that someone forged his handwriting through a curse or some new gimmick, and then a second arrived with a smaller envelope hidden inside. 
No name written on it. No Dear anything to begin. 
Things are different to what you've been told. Please come home, it said. This penmanship was shaken like a hand out of practice, but something felt familiar in the curves and dots. 
If Remus’ letter (and the second smaller one too) were in fact telling the truth, it means you did something awful, and so, for a while, you don't go. 
Please, the next letter says, again enclosed within a larger explanation from Remus, I'm sorry. I just want to see you again. 
Getting home isn't as simple as he might think. You have to picture the destination very clearly to disapparate, and you have no sustained recollection anymore of the places you used to go. You remember silly things, slices of memories; the four of them laughing in a big green field, the sweet smell of hair oil to your left; the beige walls of a rented flat where you'd lay in bed for hours, sometimes days at a time, before things got too terrible to sleep; a string-lit garden that last summer, hands of poker on a glass table. These places aren't real anymore. You can't go back to them. 
Upon your request, Molly forwards you an address and a secret code. 
Trains, buses, trains again. A long walk through a cold street. Some secret this or that. You arrive in the night and a frowning face ushers you in, past a painting sealed away and up the creaking stairs. You spend hours sitting on the end of a bed coated in dust waiting for the sun to rise, your back stiff with nerves. You could slip out before anyone else knows you're here, it's not as if Moody would give you away. But why did you come, if you were going to run straight back to your outpost? 
You don't want Sirius’ betrayal to be true, of course. It took your breath away imagining what it would mean if he hadn't done what you thought. If it's all lies (as it seems to be), if he's innocent as he and Remus claim, it means you turned your back on him and left him to suffer, and he's still asking you to come home. 
A few people stir for breakfast. Molly, who's voice you remember, and some younger sounding ones that may be her children, or perhaps the newer Order recruits. Then comes Remus’ voice. He sounds different. Less Welsh, more tired. Homely anyways as he passes your door with someone beside him. 
“...any day now,” he's saying, “try not to worry.” 
“I do worry. I've worried about it every day for years.” 
You freeze up. 
The stairs creak, Remus’ voice moving further away. “She doesn't need worrying.” 
Sirius must stay at the top of the stairs for a moment. He sounds close. “I wouldn't know what she needs.” 
“Come have some breakfast.” 
“I'll write her again.” 
“After breakfast.” 
“What if she doesn't come?” 
“After breakfast,” Remus insists. “She can ignore you once we've had toast.” 
“I forgot how funny you are,” Sirius mutters. 
Hearing his voice fills you with doubt. He sounds nothing like he used to, no easy confidence to be heard, just fatigue. 
You look down at your hands. Hearing his voice has a new emotion sprouting, too. When you first learned what had happened to your friends, you felt anger like a knife everywhere you went. How could he do that to them? How could he do it to you, be that person, ruin everything you'd loved and made together? But later, when anger faded and grief ached, you'd missed the Sirius you loved. Shamefully, in longing pangs, you'd toss and turn to dreams where things were different. 
Now there's a chance he might still be that person, and you're hiding from him in his own house. 
“There's someone here,” Molly says as you leave your room, her voice nearly too quiet to hear from the kitchen. “Moody's told me this morning.” 
“What?” Arthur asks. 
“Who?” a younger voice says. 
A small intermission of quiet. “Well, I don't know,” Molly says eventually, though she must have guessed it was you from the letter you sent. “But I'll need another loaf of bread. You'd better go, boys.” 
“Mum,” one whines. 
“Come on now.” 
The stairs whimper as you descend, the bannister sticky with old gloss under your hand. Paisley wallpaper and drapes catch your eye as you pass the overflowing shoe rack. There must be more people here than you'd thought. The coat stand is similarly overloaded. 
You can see into the kitchen as soon as you take the last step down. Molly stands wringing a dish cloth between her hands, two teenage boys at the kitchen table. Remus stands near her right with a cup of tea, and when he sees you, he genuinely smiles. 
“Oh, good,” he says, the scar that bisects his lip pulling as he takes a sip of tea. 
The teenagers turn to see you. “Bread, boys! Arthur, you can go with them," Molly says.
Arthur doesn't complain. You falter in the hallway, quiet as the trio of Weasley's leave the kitchen in their slippers to take a quiet exit from the front door. They smile politely as they go, but the boys whisper as the door shuts behind them. You wonder if they have an inkling of who you are, and then you wonder what you might say now they're gone. 
Molly remains, inquisitive to know that you need privacy but also the security of her company. She was always smart like that.
��Come in, then,” Remus says. 
“I–” You clear your throat. “I'm not sure I should.” 
A startle of silverware against china. 
Remus gives you one of his looks. It has tears threatening to well. Why didn't I fight to see him more? you think. Suddenly years have passed and he's changed, but his reassuring glances remain. It's like he's saying everything is fine, why wouldn't everything be fine? Chin up, dove.
Sirius appears in the doorway. Dark circles beneath grey eyes, his cheeks gaunt with hunger rather than the sleek sharpness he once possessed. He's still pretty, if wounded. It's as though you've found an old photo of him that's been smudged with age. He's stepped out of one of your moulding albums to haunt you. 
“Angel,” he breathes, his hand clasped low on the doorway, “you're here.” 
You look past him to Molly and Remus. There isn't a reality nor dimension where they'd let him stay here if they didn't believe his innocence. Remus explained it all in the letter and still you worried if he might have gotten it wrong, and simply believed what he wanted to believe, but it's not possible. Remus loved James so much, he would've killed Sirius himself if he really thought Sirius was the secret keeper who betrayed them. 
So. It's a relief to be home. 
You stare at him. “You look tired,” you say quietly. 
“I'm fine. I am.” 
He seems alright, considering. You'd even say he was handsome with his hair pushed away from his face, a dark shadow of stubble around his mouth, but he looks exhausted.  
You're expecting him to say what you'd say. How could you ever think I'd do it? 
Sirius was prone to similar bouts of pride, or righteousness, justice, whatever you want to call it, but he doesn't bother with that now. He looks at you as though you're the only person on earth, gaze narrowed but eyes wide, pain between his brows as he asks, “What's wrong?” 
Your hand finches up to your cheek to wipe the sudden tear away. “I thought I'd never see you again.” Your Sirius. 
“Don't be upset,” he pleads. 
“How can I not be? I left you all alone for so long.” 
He laughs roughly. “Sweetheart, what were you supposed to do?” 
“Not just give up.” 
“You thought it was me. That's the only thing you could've done. Either of you,” he says, gesturing backward with his hand. “It was hard… to know who to trust, at the end. It's not your fault.” 
You really were only kids together, not half as in love as James and Lily, but that doesn't mean you weren't mad for each other. He looked after you. You would've had a life, you think. 
“You were just gone,” you say, looking down at the floor between you, eyes tracing lines of wood grain. “Everyone. There was nobody left. And I just let you go.” 
“Do you want to come here?” he asks. You lift your head. His hand is barely in front of him, fingers open, palm up. 
It's like taking a stranger's hand for the first few seconds. You keep them low between you both, unfamiliar to each other. But, you find, as his fingers wrap around yours in that selfish way they used to do, squeezing rather than intertwining to make all of them fit, he remembers you.
You step a little closer, your arm to his chest, and look up at him through your lashes. It would melt him like a candle near a furnace, this look. He'd be smug or seething about something and you'd sidle in to stand between his shoes, unsure of what to say but determined to be there for him. It's the same now.  
“What's wrong?” he asks under his breath. 
“I left you all alone,” you repeat. 
“It wasn't your choice, okay?” He smooths his free hand from your elbow to your upper arm. 
Molly says something to Remus. He chuckles and says something in return. Happier to admit it if it's only for Sirius’ ears, you say, “I'm really sorry, Sirius. I miss you every day.” 
“I miss you too,” he says. 
You push your arms around his waist and hide your face in his chest, feeling for the lines of who he used to be, the dip of his spine in his back or the soft cotton of one of his old t-shirts. You regret hugging him at all, until he puts his arm behind your head, a shaky breath released against your crown. 
I'm scared, he'd said. But I don't want you to be scared, okay? Barely twenty, he smelled of the sticky red powder on the end of matches after a night doing things he couldn't tell you about. You could tell him you loved him, and he you, but you weren't to discuss Order business. We'll be okay. 
But Lily–
Everyone's going to be fine. I promise. 
“You promised,” you say to yourself. Too quiet for him to hear, but he does. 
“I promised you so many things I'm not sure what one you mean,” he says with a disappointed laugh. 
You pull away, taking his face into two hands. “How do you feel?” you ask, ignoring the tremble working up from your wrists. 
“What?” His eyes are dark. 
“How are you? Did they– I mean, are you okay? Are you sick?” 
“Remus has patched me up. And Cordelia, the medwitch, you know her?” 
“I don't know anyone. I've been away.” 
He nods sadly. “Yeah. Well, you look the same.” 
“I don't.” 
“You do! You look the same,” —he almost sounds happy, his lips curling into a smile— “sweetheart. Sweetheart–” He closes his eyes. 
You push his hair behind his ears. “You don't look the same,” you confess, “you have wrinkles, right… here.” You touch the corners of his eyes. 
“You're still beautiful.” 
“Mm. You can't even see me.” 
“I don't need to see you. I knew you would be.” 
You rise up to kiss his cheek gently. “It's like you're back, like– like, I always felt like you were gone. And now you're home again. You are home, aren't you?” 
He covers your hand with one of his. “You're here, so–” 
You laugh together nervously. “Yeah, I'm here.” 
“I have stuff to do to make it right.” 
“Then we'll do it.” 
“Okay,” he says. He swallows a breath, and wraps you in a surprisingly tight hug. “Did you read my letters?” 
I don't want anything from you. Just to see you're okay. 
“I read them. I'm okay. Don't I look okay?” 
“You look perfect. Just like the last time I saw you,” he says. It startles you how suddenly he sounds like he did when you were young, his flirting drawl, voice velveteen. 
“Not like that,” you laugh. 
He pulls you as close as you can be, rough now, his arms solid around you. “I missed that,” he says, rubbing your back. “I forgot how you sound when you laugh.” 
You've led very different lives. “I didn't forget yours.” 
“You wouldn't. You love having things to hold against me.” 
You stroke his hair. “Maybe a little.” 
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rogueddie · 2 years
Text
Steve hates mixtapes, always has. He's made some for girls before, went all out, spent hours making them. But he doesn't get it. He doesn't understand why people like them so much, why people think the effort is worth it.
He remembers how those girls had smiled when he'd given them the mixtapes, remembers how sweet they'd been on him after, how they kept talking about it. Even though it's just some songs he thought they might like. He was never sure how to make any of them romantic, didn't know if they expected any input from him between the songs. He's pretty sure he'll never really get it, but…
He wants to make one for Eddie.
Eddie has been trying so hard to get him to like metal or rock or anything 'alternative'. And Steve doesn't know how to explain what he does or doesn't like, doesn't know how to explain why he likes Sabbath Bloody Sabbath but can't stand T.N.T.
He's tried to explain it. Tried to sit down with Eddie and explain that there is a happy medium betweent he ones too loud and the ones that are just… boring. And Eddie tries to listen, is so clearly trying.
But Steve can't explain it, doesn't know how to. Not without sounding like an idiot, anyway. Telling Eddie that a lot of AC/DC songs don't have enough going on to make his ears feel happy would ruin whatever thing the two of them have going on.
Which is why he's sat on the floor, desperately looking through the tapes Eddie has been forcefully lending him, trying to find the right songs for a mixtape. If he can't explain it to Eddie, maybe he can show him instead.
He refuses to acknowledge to odd bubbling excitement building in his stomach. Eddie is his friend, this isn't romantic. Eddie wants to show him his music, wants to share something he enjoys, there's nothing for Steve to be getting so worked up over. For all he knows, Eddie is straight.
It takes him three weeks to make the mixtape.
"Eddie!" Steve jogs to catch up with him. It's the third time they've run into each other by accident, outside of the kids or Robin. It's the first time that Steves had the mixtape in his pocket, ready.
"Hey Steve," he raises an eyebrow. "What's got you in such a good mood?"
"Day off," Steve lies. "And I'm done with the shit I need to do. Uh, anyway, I have- I mean, it's not… fuck. Ok, here, just…" He awkwardly holds the mixtape out, shifting when Eddie carefully takes it, like it's something precious. "It's, uh… I know you've been, like, struggling to figure out what metal songs I'm into or whatever so… these are the, uh, type. Things. I guess."
Eddie is smiling, small and soft. He hasn't looked up from the track list since he turned it over.
"I'm already noticing a theme." His voice is so gentle, almost adoring, that Steve feels his face heating up. It's only worse when Eddie looks up, turning that smile directly on him. "Thanks Steve."
"Uh, yeah, no worries?" Steve bites at his nail.
"I hope you know that I'm making you one," Eddie raises an eyebrow, smirking. He slowly starts walking around him. "After I'm done with this shelf for Wayne, I'm making you one. I'm gonna rock your world, Harrington."
Steve laughs a little, hopes it doesn't sound as awkward to Eddie as it does to him. "Look forward to it."
Eddie gives him a two finger salute, turning to walk a little faster to his van.
Steve waits until he turns a corner, looking around to make sure no one can see him and doing a little fist pump.
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visforvengeance · 3 days
Text
so they would know that it was me
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Pairing: Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Notes: okokok. So this was heavily inspired by The Diner from Billie Eilish's new album, hit me hard and soft. If you've heard this song, doesn't it make you think about our fave hothead? I tried to do the Instagram caption thing but uhhh yeah. I wrote this in 3 hours and I went batshit insane writing it. I wonder if you pinpoint when I went fucking berserk. but anyway. I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: boy where do i start. ok. p in v, cursing as always, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, suicide (mentioned), canon typical violence, biting/bruising, just reader and rafe being freak nasty.
song
Rafe watched while you danced with your friends. It was almost like you were dancing only for him, beckoning him to come closer. He tuned out Top and Kelce, he didn’t care for their conversation. Not when you were near. You danced so freely and without care, and it was because of him. 
Everyone in the OBX knew you were his and his only. From the moment you two were kids, Rafe had always…protected you. Meaning he beat the ever-loving shit out of any boy who looked your way. And, you were none the wiser. You weren’t aware of his predatory behavior. So, when he’d have you sitting in his lap all the time or just casually made you blow him when you’ve been bad, it never occurred to you that this wasn’t normal best friend behavior. You rather liked when he called you baby or how he let you kiss him nasty when you were bored (which was quite often). But, there were still some guys who thought Rafe wouldn’t be on their ass if he even thought they wanted you. Yeah, you were only his and there’s no getting around that.
He watched as some drunk asshole made their way over to you, rudely pushing away your friends and cornering you. They stood around looking for Rafe as he made sure they knew the drill, which was to look for him immediately in these situations. If he wasn’t already aware, that is. Which was rare, as rare as other guys getting this close to you. Rafe had molded you into his perfect girl over the years, shaped you so that you only needed him. If you wanted something, you’d call on Rafe to get it for you. He’s your chauffeur, your atm, your noncommittal boyfriend, your everything. So, when you realized it wasn’t Rafe grabbing on your waist, you began to panic. You tried pushing the guy away while searching for Rafe but he wouldn’t budge. 
Then, suddenly this 6’2 shadow cast over both of you. Rafe had an unnervingly calm expression on his face. He politely tapped the man on his shoulder, before knocking him on his ass. He settled on top of him landing punch after punch on the man’s face. His face and shirt splattered with his blood. The dude had no chance and if you didn’t get Rafe off of him soon, he’d kill him. 
“Rafe,”
Then, he stopped. Abruptly. Instantly. When he looked over to you, it wasn’t fear that he saw. But, anger. “Baby,” he didn’t get to finish his sentence before you cut him off. 
“Home. Now.”
He followed behind you like a lost puppy, leaving the crowd to deal with the aftermath. You never saw Rafe handle these situations. You never saw him in this light. You knew he was not to be fucked with, though. Of course, you knew your boy had a temper. You weren’t that oblivious. But, you didn’t know that he could get like this. The drive to his house was silent. You sat in his passenger seat (which has your name stitched into it) with your arms crossed, head straight, and fire in your eyes. Rafe had always managed to dodge your anger, but not tonight. 
He was slowly starting to get more and more irritated, though. Every time he looked at your face, he’d only be met with your immaculate side profile. You even moved your leg away from his hand when he tried to rest it there. He knew it wasn’t because of the blood that had dried on his hands, you were never bothered by that but, it was because of his actions. His failure to maintain his composure. 
Before you two were able to reach his neighborhood, blue and red lights flashed behind you. Rafe cursed himself as he looked through the rearview mirror. How the fuck was he going to explain the blood that was on him? He hurriedly tried to clean the blood off of him as he changed his shirt. He managed to make himself look at least halfway decent before the cop arrived at his window, knocking lightly. 
Usually, because of who Rafe’s father was, he only received a slap on the wrist. But, not in this situation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try and get away this time. You rolled your eyes as you listened to him lie through his teeth. He was very charming, you’d give him that. He charmed this female officer right out of being arrested and being sent to prison for aggravated assault. 
You scoffed at the audacity of her to ask for his number and him actually giving it to her. She couldn’t have been much older than the two of you, maybe 25. Baby-faced and fresh out of the academy. You laughed bitterly as he watched her walk back to her patrol car. “You’re fucking unbelievable, Rafe.” His head snapped in your direction, those were the first words you had said to him in the entire 30 minutes he’d been driving. 
Would it be insane of him to assume that you were jealous? Would it be absolutely fucking psychotic if he said that it turned him on to see you so angry and jealous? He smirked softly as he resumed driving. 
You slammed his truck door shut. You didn’t care if he’d get mad about it. You stomped to his front door, impatiently rushing him to open it. He shook his head as he laughed at your brattiness. He loved when you acted like a spoiled child for him. You knew he never had the intention of pursuing that girl, but something in you couldn’t stand the thought of it. 
He took his time opening the door, relishing in the moment before he had to hear your annoying yapping. When the moment was right, he’d know the perfect way to shut you up. He’d argue with you just for the hell of it, then he’d guilt trip you and tell you something like; ‘you’re right, baby, I’m sorry. Ok?’ And, then you’ll find him between your legs, delirious and begging that you forgive him. 
When you made it to his bedroom, you wasted no time ripping into him. First, about the fight he started, and then about giving that cop his number. But, he only stood there with that stupid fucking smirk. “So, you’re not going to say anything? Just stand there smirking?”
He closed the gap between the two of you. He was so close that you could feel his breath fanning your face, if you weren’t so pissed, you’d be on your knees with him looking at you the way he was. He brought his hand up enough to grip your chin, softly at first. “You can’t be mad at me about two different things, baby, pick your battles carefully.” By the end of his statement, his grip had gotten harsher. 
Who the fuck does he think he is? You wrapped your hand around his forearm, caressing it. But, then he felt the growing sting of your nails digging into his flesh. “Aggravated assault in the first degree, babe? That’s a $250,000 bond. Do you think your daddy can afford that? Or will I have to get my daddy’s money to bail you out?” You looked up at him with doe eyes. The silence between you both appeared again. The only sounds heard in his bedroom were his harsh breaths as he tried to remain calm. But, you were really fucking pushing it. 
You forced his hand away and plopped down on his bed. “I just think that you shouldn’t have done that, Rafey.” You pouted as you watched him get down on his knees before you. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he placed his hands on the back of your knees, massaging up to your thighs while pushing his way between them. 
“First off, I am your daddy, babe. And, second, you know how I get when guys try to push up on my girl. Especially when I know how scared you get when it’s not me,” he said while leaving kisses on your neck and chest. 
You scoffed, “I don’t get scared. Just slightly uncomfortable.” You let your hand grasp the back of his neck, fingers dancing softly along the lines of his buzzcut. “Same thing, darlin'. When you’re not happy, that’s when I have a problem. I can’t have my best girl out here feeling nothing but happiness, you get what I’m saying?” He kissed his way up to your chin before pulling away and looking deeply into your eyes. 
“Yeah, daddy, I know. Just don’t want you to go to jail, is all.” You pecked his lips softly. He nodded before kissing you meaningfully. “I’ll be careful next time, huh? That what you want me to say?” You nodded your head as best as you could with your jaw in his grip. You stared back into his eyes as your cheeks spilled between his fingers, and your lips puckered up slightly. It made his dick hard. 
He kissed you again, sloppy this time. The smacking of your lips and the moans that escaped both of you filled the room. He pushed you back on his bed while trailing kisses down your body. While doing so, he slid your panties down, tossing them somewhere behind him. He didn’t care. He didn’t bother riding you of the rest of your clothes just yet. Just hiking up your skirt and leaning back to admire the view. You sat up on your elbows, breathing heavily. You hiked one of your legs up, giving him a better view. “Come on, baby, don’t be a tease.” You were practically begging him to taste you. And, who was he to deny his baby?
He chuckled, “alright, princess. Calm it down.” He watched as you clenched from the nickname. It was taking everything in him not to eat you until you were begging him to stop. Even then, he didn’t know if he had that kind of control. He kisses your inner thigh, working his way up to your heat. Before delving in, he inhaled your scent. You could’ve sworn you saw the white of his eyes while they rolled to the back of his head, but you were quivering with excitement. Too out of it to try and comprehend that. 
He placed your leg over his shoulder and pulled you to the edge of the bed. He placed one long lick from your clit to your entrance, he couldn’t help himself as he let out a moan at the taste of you. Rafe didn’t think he was the kind of guy to be so affected by a woman, of any kind. But, he’d let you slut him out whenever you pleased. Whatever you wanted, he never said no. Not to his baby. 
He would gladly drop to his knees for you. There’d even be times when he’d be the one asking for your permission to taste you. And, just like him, you never said no. 
He began teasing you by repeatedly placing kisses along your clit, when he noticed your whines he fucking laughed. “Rafe, quit it.” You sounded like an intolerant child but that’s what he liked about you. “Ok, ok, baby. I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sorry at all. 
He wrapped his lips around it while slowly sliding a finger into you. Your hips jerked at the intrusion but soon relaxed. He added another finger, but at this point, you weren’t sure who was moaning more, you or him. You were silently thanking God that his family was out on vacation as neither of you were exactly quiet. If anyone had heard, they could easily guess what was going on. 
Rafe pumped his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside of you, while his tongue worked on your clit. He didn’t care that he could hardly breathe as you pressed his face into you, he’d die happily this way. 
Your moans grew louder while your back arched off of the bed. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, easing it inside you with little resistance. His nose bumped against your clit just right as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you flush against him. You held the sheets tightly in your grip, your moans had turned into screams which then turned into nothingness. The sound had simply ceased as you began to clench around his tongue. 
Rafe humped the frame of his bed as he came in his pants. He was moaning into your pussy like a madman. He’d most certainly be ashamed about this later but he thinks this was one of the most amazing orgasms he’s had with you. But, he’s not done with you yet. He had to have you, all of you. He’d kill himself if he didn’t, swears it on his soul. 
When he untangled himself from you, the bottom half of his face was left glistening in the moonlight. He breathed heavily as he started to remove his and your clothing. Both of you were naked, eyes roaming over each other’s bodies. You had never gone this far. Maybe some dry-humping here and there but actual fucking? You were trying (and failing) to contain your excitement. As was Rafe, as he pumped his half-hard cock to full hardness. 
His face held his signature half-lidded eyes look, it was truly a sight to see. You laid back completely flat with your legs spread as you waited for Rafe. You were startled when you felt his hand on your knee. You felt the height of him laying flat against your core. He slotted himself between your lips, and let his spit drip down as he rubbed himself against you. “I want you to try to relax, okay, baby? I don’t wanna hurt you,” you nodded as you tried to follow his directions. Rafe was bigger than you had expected and he was your biggest yet. You took a deep breath as you signaled to him that you were ready. He lined himself up with your entrance as his tip poked at it. Slow, subtle prodding turned into slowly being filled. 
Per your previous orgasm, your fluids and his saliva made it easier. He let out a dragged-out ‘fuck’ as he eased himself into you. When you were filled to the brim with him, he pressed your bodies together, placing his lips onto yours. You could taste remnants of yourself, making you moan into the kiss. Rafe began thrusting into you, softly at first. At first. 
Then, he began pounding into you relentlessly. His hand was wrapped around your throat, squeezing the sides. Your eyes remained in the back of your head for a while, your back arched as you tried to hold onto his forearm. “Tell me you love me,” he said. But, you didn’t hear him. You couldn’t. You were too fucked out. Until you weren’t. Because he stopped. Because he had to hear you say it. And you were so close too. 
“Baby,” he slapped your cheek a few times, trying to get your attention. You will yourself to look at him, he’s admiring you. Your eyes were barely open and your lips were still shining from the lipgloss you were wearing earlier in the night. “Tell me that you love me.” He started thrusting his hips again, but this time it was achingly slow. “Rafe, please.” If you were in your right mind, you’d tell him without a heartbeat. But, he was just fucking you stupid mere seconds ago. “Come on, doll. Just say it and I’ll keep going, promise.” His soft neck kisses turned into harsh sucking with a little bit of biting. 
“I love you, Rafe. Fuck.” He sped up his pace while whispering ‘I love you’ into your skin over and over again. Your stomach tightened as your orgasm approached rapidly. “I fucking love you so much,” Rafe moaned into your lips. You felt the warmth of his cum seeping into you, which triggered your orgasm. He slumped over you as you clenched around him repeatedly. His body twitched as he groaned at the sensitivity. He pulled himself off of you, heading to his bathroom to get a wet towel to clean you up with. After he was done, he peppered you with kisses. Apologizing if he was too rough, making sure you had a glass of water before bed. You were asleep within a matter of minutes, leaving him alone with his thoughts. 
You woke up to an empty bed, the bright ass sum staring right at you, and the constant pinging of your phone. After stewing in bed for 10 minutes, you picked up your phone to see what all the fuss was about. 
“rafe.cameron tagged you in a photo!”
You hadn’t expected the photo to be of you sleeping soundly with a palette of reds, blues, and purples littered upon your skin. 
“rafe.cameron i left a calling card…”
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