#there's a tiny bit of smut

[hairmetal666]

Steve and Eddie don't like each other at first. Or, no, that's not quite right. They're still bonded from everything. They're friends, sort of, but they don't spend time together outside the group, have trouble talking one-on-one.

Steve doesn't think about it much. So, he and Eddie won't ever be real friends, okay. He's a little disappointed, but mostly he doesn't understand how he feels about the other guy. He's always anxious when Eddie's around, clumsy and stuttering, infected with Robin's tendency to nervous chatter. It doesn't make sense. It's just Eddie. But that's the thing. It's Eddie and Steve doesn't know how to act around him.

And Eddie? Well, he spends a lot of time avoiding Steve because the fucking cascade of butterflies he gets every time Harrington is around. He knows what it means, knows even he isn't immune to the Harrington charm, but he needs to be. He needs to keep his heart safe. So, he keeps his distance because Steve Harrington is not for him and never will be.

It changes during movie nights. First it's teasing Dustin and Mike, mocking whatever horrible movie the kids put on, and then it's inside jokes, and playful bickering, and evenings with just the two of them drinking beer and sharing joints.

Then it's August. It's too hot everywhere and Steve's parents are home, so they're in Steve's car, driving with no destination, a couple joints in Eddie's jacket pocket and a six-pack in the trunk. They're listening to a mixtape Eddie made Steve, a bunch of metal. Steve still doesn't get it but there are a couple of songs he enjoys. Rainbow in the Dark starts--this is one Steve likes, reminds him of Eddie and not just because it's Dio. Sun filters through foliage and into the car windows, backlighting Eddie's curls like he's some kind of deity, beautiful and ethereal, not part of this world.

Steve starts singing along to the music, can't help himself. His friend throws him a beaming smile, big enough that Steve thinks his heart stops. He smiles back. He and Eddie sing the rest of the song together, and Steve is...he's content. He's happy. He hasn't felt this way since--well fuck--since 1983. Their eyes meet again, gazes linger, warmth pools in Steve's chest and low in his stomach.

Oh. He thinks. That's what this is. It settles something inside him, the knowing.

Time passes, they get closer, share a bed most nights. Doesn't matter where as long as they're together. Sleep better this way, both of them.

They're at the trailer when it happens, sharing a joint, loosely tucked against each other in bed.

"I've never had a friend like you," Eddie says. His eyes stay fixed on the smoke he exhaled. "I know you and Robin are--like, I get it. But you're--for me--"

"Yeah," Steve agrees. He flushes from his chest to forehead. "For me too."

It's enough, they both think. They're standing on the edge of more have been for months, but this? This is good. There's no need to push, to force. They're hurt, Steve thinks. They're healing. And they have time.

Corroded Coffin plays their first show back at the Hideout in December. Steve's never seen Eddie like this, performing. His shirt is cropped and artfully torn, his jeans more rip than pants. He's wearing eyeliner and his hair is wild. And the way he moves, sinuous and sleek, hips thrusting in a tantalizing rhythm as he shreds on the guitar. Steve wants so badly he feels it in his teeth.

He finds Eddie smoking behind the Hideout after the set. His eye are too bright, his smile manic, the adrenaline keying him up to the highest setting of Eddie. Steve knows he matches the energy, can't help it.

Eddie throws himself into Steve's arms, wrapping around him tight enough that no space lingers. The musician presses his face into Steve's neck, nuzzling, lips pressing against his pulse point. They touch always, share a bed and cuddle, but never like this; nothing like this. Steve pulls Eddie closer, and groans at the mutual swivel of their hips.

Eddie's breath comes in panting bursts, and Steve thinks, "here it is, finally, finally," but the door next to them bangs open and they jump apart at the noise.

Their friends and the rest of the Corroded Coffin guys come out, frolicking and shouting, complimenting Eddie on the show. If anyone noticed them embracing, notices the way they both adjust their clothing to hide their matching arousal, they don't say anything.

Steve wakes early the next morning, early enough that Eddie doesn't even stir beside him, hair wild and eyeliner smeared.

He gets out of bed, starts breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes and bacon, Eddie's favorite. He's so intent on cooking that he doesn't hear the other man come up behind him, doesn't realize he's even awake until a warm body presses to his back, long-fingered hands slipping under his t-shirt, tracing the scars on his stomach. He leans into it without a thought. They touch all the time, but they don't touch like this.

"Watcha making, sweetheart?" Eddie whispers.

"Your favorite," Steve answers.

Eddie makes a little sound, almost a whimper, and presses his face to Steve's neck. Steve lifts his chin, leaning into Eddie and offering more. Warm lips press against his jaw, down to the moles on his throat. A moan slips from his lips as he grinds his ass into Eddie's hardness. The other man groans, grabbing at Steve's hips.

Somewhere in the press of their bodies, Steve has the presence of mind to turn. He lifts his hands, cups Eddie's jaw, thumbs caressing the stubbled, scarred skin of his cheeks. "Okay?" He asks. His voice shakes.

Eddie's eyes are wide, shining, and he swallows hard. Steve knows he's overwhelmed, knows that the words won't come. Instead, Eddie nods, and finally finally they kiss.

Steve is flying. His blood soars in his veins, his heart lifts off. It was always supposed to be this. Always supposed to be them.

It was slow. It was easy. It was small jokes, and long looks, and little touches, and singing in cars and best friends and sharing beds.

His heart belonged to Eddie Munson for months. It will belong to him forever.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #oneshot #ficlet #mutual pining #falling in love slowly #first kiss #getting together #acquaintances to friends to lovers #sing along #mixtapes #roadtrip #sharing a bed #hurt/comfort #there's a tiny bit of smut #slow burn #this is only vaguely inspired by you are in love by taylor swift #i swear i don't do the taylor swift thing on purpose #i just listen to music and have ideas

[bunicate]

rambling abt diluc’s relationship with his sister from the maid, adelinde’s pov ♡ im pretti sure dis was an ask I received on my old blog too ! !

adelinde didn’t have much expected of her besides her daily cleanings and the occasional rotation of taking out the trash, but recently she’s been burdened with the task of looking after you.

you’re a troublesome girl to tend to.

she would never say it out loud or let her feelings show, but master diluc had you spoiled rotten. you were the only one allowed to disturb him in his study and demand the most menial things for the sake of his attention. 

you're often half-naked and oversleeping when you weren't bothering him.

she frequently dresses you, and brushes your hair so you could look presentable in front of your brother, and you would insist on only the shortest dresses and skirts. or flat out refuse to have your blouse buttoned all the way. she wouldn’t dare to speak out of turn, but your bosom was nearly visible at all times. 

she doesn’t acknowledge her master's subtle glances towards the swell of your chest, or his hand that rests too closely to your bottom.

you both were closer than most siblings. that she knows, the other maids all witnessed it but wouldn’t speak of it lest their master would catch them.

it was an enjoyable job, and it would be a shame to lose it because diluc caught their loose lips flapping away.

adelinde was quick to regard the interactions as siblings who simply cherished each other.

although you’re a handful, you’re also sweet and thoughtful, and she could see why diluc treated you as such. she often helps you clean up your messes from making strawberry tarts, and other little gifts that you give diluc. by the end of the day, you’d be exhausted, and each time she’d lay a blanket over your slumbering body when you waited up late for diluc.

she’d watch you until she’s interrupted by her master's arrival. 

“thank you, adelinde. you may go for the night. i’ll take care of her from here,” he’d say.

like routine, she’d bow.

“well then. goodnight master diluc.”

she would watch him slowly collect your body within his grasp, gentle enough not to disturb you from slumber. 

he’d pull back the hair that obstructs your face and adelinde could never forget the look of utter tenderness that seeped into his visage.

a certain kind of love unbinds the furrow of his brow and eases the tension in his broad shoulders. his figure would then disappear into your room, and that would be the last she saw of you both for the night. 

the next day when adelinde knocks on your door to come in, and you’re already awake.

your pajamas are revealing as always. a skimpy underwear and a strapless cotton top. your hair covers it, but she makes out the bruise on your neck, and she ignores it.

she tries not to appear uncomfortable when you walk downstairs in the same attire and diluc don't even seem phased. he just puts you on the kitchen counter, feeding you blueberries for breakfast.

touches and the palatable air isn’t enough to jump to conclusions, but she supposes she no longer had a choice anymore when she mistakenly walks into the living room and witnesses such a sweltering kiss.

her master trails his hands on the cheeks of your butt, groping the flesh while he buried his tongue in your mouth. 

adelinde is stunned at the sight. her master was kissing his little sister. 

a sensation she’s unfamiliar with runs down her body. his tongue is so much larger than yours, wrapping around your smaller one, swallowing your breathy cries. his hands cup your face, and it’s then she realizes how large those gloved fingers really are.

carefully, she watches them trail downwards, slipping into his pants to pull out his thickening and leaky member. 

adelinde , felt fear and a tinge of arousal.

he was going to insert his cock between your folds. your pretty silken folds, that sweltered with lust. his dick was hard and angry, and your body looked too perfect — too delicate to be touched.

adelinde licked her lips as diluc entered inside of you. your back arches and your tits jiggle from the comedown of his hips. he fucks into you at a rapid pace, and the sound of wetness on his cock destabilizes the maid's ability to react appropriately.

the moistness is audible between the slaps of skin and the loud cries.

the sheets darken with sweat and cum. your skin is bitten and then kissed, and your moans reverberate in the same room.

the air is hot and sticky and adelinde feels a knot in her belly. she quickly darts out into the corridor and begins to dread the following day. anxiety pricks at her skin at the fear of facing you both once more.

she knows that she’ll have to clean you up in the morning and face the dark truth about her master and his younger sister.

#𝚜𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜 ⪩⪨ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ #lulu ❤︎ #:] adelinde mite like reader jus a teeeenzy bit #jus a tiny bit #diluc x reader smut #diluc x reader #genshin smut #tw:incest

[l3viat8an]

I'm just gonna say it- sweatpants was not the best choice for Levi’s casual outfit-

His virgin otaku ass- Gets bricked up when you look at him for too long, at least give the poor demon a fighting chance at hiding it!!-

#might be a tiny bit high- #‘n was lookin’ at Levi’s outfit and really? sweatpants- boi you know better jsjsjsj #obey me! #obey me suggestive #ro’s dumb stuff tag! #obey me levi #obey me levi x reader #om! leviathan #obey me leviathan #obey me levi smut #obey me smut #om!

[shellxrls]

jj with inexperienced reader who thinks they know everything about everything even tho they’re still a virgin. when jj and reader finally get to bed together, readers all cocky like “yeah lemme handle this” but afterwards they’re proven wayyyy wrong that they don’t know shit and they’re all fucked out cock drunk in contrast from before and jj’s just there with a small smirk, letting reader lay on him and just being all comforting. “yeah betcha didn’t know i could hand it out like that huh?” teasing em while they just whine and get all shy and annoyed

NUTTING WTF !

okay this is super self-serving bcuz i’m into pain but imagine actually crying over the stretch bcuz you hadn’t expected the girth, nor how truly difficult it would actually be able to take. and jj’s trying so, so hard not to just push himself all the way inside and wiping at your tears and it’s sooo sappy and cute but at the same time you can feel his dick pulse every time you shed a few more tears !!

#jj is a teeny tiny bit of a sadist is we’re being real #he wouldn’t ever explicitly voice it #but pain is a turn on for him #he gets into a fight = you’re getting fucked until you can’t SEE anymore #asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;anon #;prompts #jj maybank #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader smut

[hungharrington]

since you are likely my favorite user for steve blurbs right now, i am here to share my thots.

i just wanna make out with steve in that stupid bmw. middle of summer, he’s in some stupid little shorts and a crop top, all breathless and shit UGH just let me know your thoughts on this important topic 🎤

firstly, i’m so very flattered 🥹 ur a very talented writer yourself so i was a beside myself receiving this from u! i’m sorry it took me so long! my thoughts are…. well it’s such a delicious thought i had 2 expand….

The radio sounds just a little bit out of tune when you’re this far out from Hawkins. 

The noise a bit grainy, coming out low and wavy from the speakers in Steve’s car and mixing with the heat waves of the hottest season. It’s baking hot this summer— mirror mirages spill onto the roads, flocks of people gather to the lakeside, and swim-suits are the only appropriate apparel to combat the sweltering temperatures. 

You, however, are entirely too hot for another reason altogether today. 

Steve is always warm. He seems to glow from the inside, always hot enough to warm your cold hands should you worm them under his shirt — though, he always yelps and bats them away. Loves it secretly. Today, he feels as warm as sunlight itself under your touch.

His lips have been softened from your endless kisses and there’s a laziness in the press of his mouth against yours. His hands are gentle, tracing invisible patterns up your sides and back. It’s slow — a gentle push and pull of you in his lap, your legs slung atop his bare thighs and arms around his neck, messy kisses shared. 

You love summer, if only for the fact it gets Steve into shorts. The pair he’s in now are cherry red, white lining the edges and all the motion has them riding up his thighs. The paler  softer parts of his thighs are exposed and you have a half mind to slink down and continue your kisses there. Fingers twined in his hair, you give a soft scratch along the nape of his neck and are rewarded with a soft sigh in Steve’s kiss. 

The song on the radio tapers off and there’s a crackle of the radio’s host voice, announcing something in a mumble you can’t hear. Steve’s hands on your waist pull you closer, rocking your down and you release a little groan, fire catching in your tummy at the friction when— 

“Oh, man, I love this song.” Steve pulls back abruptly, interrupting your heated make-out. He licks his swollen lips which are sheened with your spit and you blink at him, surprised. It takes another second for a smile to slip onto your lips as Steve scrunches his eyes closed for a second, beginning to sing along lowly as he bangs his head lightly. 

“Just take those old records off the shelf…” He opens his eyes again and smiles at you. He’s so handsome that it makes your stomach swoop. 

“D’ya know it?” He asks, one hand leaving your hand to push some hair behind your ear. You nod, taking advantage of the closeness and smacking a quick kiss onto the inside of his wrist. Steve melts a bit, sinking further back into the drivers seat with a gooey grin. 

You’re glad for it, relishing in your new view— eyes skim down his chest, fixing hungrily on the sliver of his tummy that’s exposed. The shirt he’s wearing is killer. You had full on stammered when you climbed into the passenger seat, at the cropped and loose shirt Steve was wearing; the tan skin skin of his midriff well on display. Paired with those shorts? You had uttered a silent prayer, unsure if you were giving thanks or asking for some goddamn mercy. 

“S’good song,” He says, though his eyes have got that distracted look in them, utterly trained on you. 

His hands paw at your side, nails scraping to bring your closer for another round of lazy making out. But you dodge his kiss— dotting a quick kiss on his cheek before you nose under his jaw. Steve takes a second to catch on, not moving to give you any space. You nuzzle in closer and make a little noise, nose pushing at his jaw til he finally tilts his head back, letting you creep closer. 

Lips meet skin and you kiss, kiss, kiss- til your desire grows and expands, threads of lust twinging in your tummy. You suckle, nibbling and soothing the skin — the heat of the day wanes around you, fueling you more. Below you, you can feel Steve’s hips shift around, his hardness growing beneath you. 

“You’re a fiend,” Steve teases. It loses all heat with how breathless he sounds. 

“Says the one who brought me out to Lover’s Lake,” You lick a hot stripe up his neck, taking his earlobe into your mouth and Steve groans loudly, grip on your tightening. “Wouldn’t exactly say you’re full of pure intentions.” 

“Touché,” He breathes. Then pulls you down, rocking your hot cunt against his cock once more, both your soft groans mixing in the hot summer air. 

Steve grins, saccharine and devilish all at once, and you waste no time in kissing it away, hands twisting in back into his hair with a tug. The fire from inside, heavy with lust, and the warmth from outside, the blistering setting sun, mix and mingle— as you let the your sun-kissed boy take you apart in beemer, lakeside. 

#a little blurb :) #WISH THAT WAS ME BRO #i’m so glad u shared ur thots :) ur brain is fucking massive and i’m kissing it #croptop steve is. the man for me #and tiny shorts? WHEWWWW 😮‍💨😮‍💨 #jay writes #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington #it’s a little bit smutty #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut

[wearyeyebrow]

Worthy In Blue

Summary: You’ve been working on a little surprise project for Lucifer involving navy blue rope and a mahogany chair. You know Lucifer has a penchant for ropework, so what if you gave him an evening to put those skills, and your own, to good use?

Tags under the cut.

Tags: submissive lucifer, dominant MC, rope, restraints, MC is in rope, Lucifer is restrained, pegging, cunnilingus, gn MC, afab MC, mutual possessiveness, romance, established relationship, pre-nightbringer

-

Tonight is the long awaited Grimte Banquet where all the noble houses gather. Relationships are maintained, new ones started, and it’s all Lucifer can do to keep his brothers in line. Luckily, he has you to keep Mammon by your side and Beel full of food.

The night drones on spent managing many noble advances. He spares you a weary glance and you wink at him from across the hall. He can’t help the quirk of his mouth, a slight smile amidst everything. You’re impossibly charming.

A few moments later and he hears your voice in his ear. “Meet me in the coat room, I have something to show you.”

You slip away and disappear somewhere in the crowd. Eventually he manages a moment alone, horribly curious as he finds his way to you.

You close the door behind him, nearly hidden amidst coats of all sizes. “Hi gorgeous,” you wrap your arms around his waist.

"A coat closet?" He muses.

“I won’t keep you. Pretty sure Beel is looking for me too… Here.” You hold up your phone, “What do you think?”

You’re showing him a picture of… rope? “This is what you wanted to show me?”

“I could hardly send it to your phone right now, what with the entire royal court surrounding you. Plus, I’d rather explain its implications in person.”

“Implications?”

“Mm. Are you free next Friday night? Around 10pm?”

“I…” he allows himself a small smile, “I might be able to spare you some time.”

“Oh might you?” You smirk, “Well, if you’re too busy I completely understand. I’m capable of appreciating my own hard work.”

He acts affronted, grabbing you by the waist and kissing your hand. “Would a willing participant not please you more?”

“Isn’t that why I asked you in the first place?” He’s captivated by the crinkle of your nose, by the warmth of your smile.

“You’ve caught me,” he chuckles, “I’m all yours.”

“Then it’s a date. Do you like the color?”

You show him your phone again and he hums appreciatively. "Did you get it from Cloven Boutique? I didn’t think they stocked colored rope."

“They don’t, I dyed it myself."

“Truly?” He looks closer, in want of his glasses. “It looks like a professional job."

"Well, I had to get the color just right - I love the look of you in blue."

"Oh?" His tone softens.

“Mhm…” You appreciatively sweep your eyes up his body, lingering the gold peacock tie-clip you got him last month. You reach out and adjust his collar, “I love seeing you in things I’ve bought.”

“You have good taste.”

“Do you really think so?”

He frowns. “I wouldn’t wear something if it didn’t suit me.”

You laugh, “I know, I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“You’re horrible.”

“I’m charming.”

He fondly rolls his eyes. “I suppose both descriptors are accurate. I will look forward to it all week.”

“I think it’ll be worth the wait.” You lean up and brush your lips against his, “Don’t dance with too many nobles now.”

“Haven’t you noticed? All eyes are on you tonight. It’s taken everything in me not to whisk you away.”

“Likewise, darling.” You wink at him again and his heart certainly doesn’t flutter.

-

Lucifer knocks on your closed door, waiting for you to beckon him inside.

The first thing he notices is an old mahogany chair in the middle of your room, stolen from the hallway. It sits odd against your comfortable furniture.

You make a show of locking your door, brushing against his shoulder as you pass by. Then you cast a noise canceling spell - nothing but an emergency could disturb you now.

When you meet his eyes you're delighted by his wanting expression, unguarded and open in his desire. "I wonder…" you walk over to him, "how much you've thought about this night, curious about what I've planned?" You straighten his tie, close enough to see him swallow.

"It has been on my mind." He takes your hand in his own and kisses your knuckles, looking every part adoring.

You chuckle fondly, "Especially in the evenings, when you think of me?"

His cheeks heat up but his gaze is steady. “I won’t deny it."

“Honesty suits you." He goes in for a kiss just as you pull away. "I want to show you something."

He makes a curious sound and you leave him to open your dresser drawer. "Now, you knew I'd be using rope tonight, but for what exactly I didn't tell you." You gather the rope in your arms, "It might not seem like much of a deviation."

"Oh?" He eyes the rope you've picked.

"You still like it?"

He turns the rope over in his hands, "It’s richer than I remember. How did you do it?"

"Blue mangled beetles - kind of like carmine, but the process is simpler. When dried and crushed they make a beautiful dark navy dye that doesn’t bleed."

"You did your research."

You chuckle and take the rope from his hands. "Only the best for you. Gloves off."

He slips off his right leather glove, finger by finger - wait. “Blue?” You look at him inquisitively. His nails are a rich navy blue, perfectly manicured and glossy.

His eyes flicker behind you, cheeks dusting pink. “I painted them a few days ago.”

You're confused for a minute, then it hits you. “Wait - because of me?”

His voice drops, “You - you mentioned-" He clears his throat, "I thought you might like them.”

"I love them, Lucifer…" You kiss his knuckles, his palm, his wrist, before pulling him in for a proper kiss. His hand cups your jaw and he makes a small, plaintive sound. He really had been thinking about your words all this time.

You pull away with reluctance. "It's time I tell you what we’ll be doing tonight. Shall we start the scene?"

He clears his throat again and sweeps his own magic over your door. "Let us begin."

"Any titles are allowed tonight, you can address me however you’d like. Red to stop the act, yellow to pause, and green for all good. Fire if you want to stop the scene entirely."

"Understood.”

“Then…" the glint in your eyes makes him a little weak in the knees. "I know you have a penchant for ropework. And I know how much you enjoy earning my praise. So, I had a thought - tonight I’d like you to use your ropework skills and tie me up, but I want full range of motion, you know, a design strictly for aesthetics.” You pull the rope taught in your hands, “And then, if you do a good enough job, I may reward you with some rope of my own. What do you say?” You hold out the rope to him.

You smile and oblige, settling into the cold wooden seat. He eyes you and then the rope, contemplative, before loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves. He circles you, and you admire the focused, pointed look on his face as he carefully plans an intricate design in his mind’s eye. He’s completely in his element and you love to watch him work.

“What an intriguing idea...” He takes the rope from your hands with soft reverence, feeling the rough texture between his fingers. “You really got such a nice shine to it,” he murmurs, mostly to himself. He breathes out slowly and gestures to the mahogany chair, “Please dear, relax.”

“Ah,’ you suddenly realize, “This might help.” You lift up your shirt and drop it next to the chair before shimmying out of your bottoms, leaving you bare before him.

“Yes…” he murmurs as his eyes roam your skin.

You feel a pleasant tingle up your spine when he brushes his fingers through your hair, gently gathering until he can put it up properly above your neckline. Your body relaxes under his touch.

The first knot is an anchor tie just below your bust, he uses four strands and divides them into two, slipping each half over your shoulders and back down to meet your back. The rough texture warms you from the outside in but his careful touch is cool against your skin.

You watch him as he works, loving the interplay of shadow that falls across his sharp features. He catches you staring.

“Am I pleasing to look at, Madam?”

“Yes, very much so.”

Your pact mark sings and you chuckle, bemused at the sensation. “You like it when I compliment you, don’t you, my little black bird?”

His cheeks heat up and his eyebrows furrow, as he’s put off by the pet name, but the humming in your chest only continues. “I can feel it, you know? Honesty really does suit you best - your face is much prettier wearing it.”

The tips of his ears turn pink but he circles you, wrapping his arms around your midsection to finish fixing a knot in place. Suddenly his warm lips press into the crook of your shoulder. The deep undertones of his voice make you shiver as he whispers in your ear. “You will be the death of me.”

You turn to meet his eyes, coy mischief in your own. “I think you’ll survive.” He chuckles and you kiss him once, twice, just to make him simmer. He almost goes back in for a third but you brush your thumb over his bottom lip. “Not yet.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He kisses your shoulder once more.

Time passes in a lovely, hazy sort of way. Lucifer relaxes into the process as you'd hoped he would. It’s a gentle sort of focus where his mind is set on something, a place where nothing else can bother him or tear away his careful attention. He loves taking your direction, easing him out of his mind, constantly wound too tight.

Finally he kneels to finish the job, gingerly maneuvering one of your legs up and over his shoulder to wrap a strand around the back of your thigh. His eyes wander this time, following the line of your body until he lingers between your legs. As if he can’t help himself he kisses your skin, leaving a delicate trail up the inside of your thigh.

You cup his jaw in one hand and he kisses your palm, eyeing between your legs. “After you finish,” you murmur, “You’ll have to earn what you get tonight.” His eyes flicker to yours and he continues moving, finishing the tie he started.

“I believe I’m finished, will you stand?”

You do so, feeling the bend and flex of rope. Nothing feels too tight, everything is snug, hugging the curves of your body. You admire what lacing you can see, particularly the delicate design around your hands and wrists. He truly had taken his time, a glance at the clock proves that an hour has passed.

Finally you turn around and examine his work in the mirror. Your eyes light up at his intricate ropework. You’re beautiful, elegant, fully mobile and yet covered in faux restraints. You admire yourself, making a show of your appreciation. His chest puffs out and the pact mark on your chest rumbles. You gently circle your clit with one finger and enjoy how he shifts uncomfortably behind you.

You want more from him. Your body aches from an hour of foreplay.

You cup his jaw with one hand. “Kneel.”

“Yes Sir,” he murmurs, almost breathless.

His willing, almost eager demonstration of your power over him, of his own lack of control, further spurns you on, and you know he can hold your weight.

"Show me, then, devotion to your work." You prop one leg up on the hard mahogany seat, exposing yourself for him. Rope hugs your thighs, indenting and highlighting what he wants most.

His eyes flicker between your face and your clit. He licks his lips. "Thank you, Sir."

You run a hand through his hair and brace the other on the back of the chair. As soon as his tongue touches your clit you gasp, unable to help yourself. You’ve been on edge for so long now, throbbing at every new rope and delicate detail. You savor his mouth, rocking your hips into his face gently. "Yes…" he sucks and licks as you drip onto his tongue and he moans softly at the gentle tug of your hand in his hair.

You'll come quickly and you know it - you rock against him faster now and he wraps his fingers through the ropes on the back of your thigh before squeezing your ass and petting between your legs.

You look down at him, at his disheveled appearance, tousled hair, and too-tight pants. “Lucifer, darling, you - ah - you don’t have to say anything, no thoughts, no control, just take what I give you."

He groans and claws at the backs of your thighs, pulling you forward against his mouth.

You tilt your head back. "Good man, good job-" he whines and flicks his tongue with renewed vigor, "fffuck, right there…"

You fuck his face, shivering and shaking, chasing your orgasm. He holds you upright and supports your body, grasping at his own ropework. You moan and twitch. A glance at the mirror brings you closer still, “Look baby, look at you, making me feel so fucking good… shit-” Your grip on his hair tightens as you twist your hand, pulling him forward. He moans, high and breathy, harshly breathing through his nose.

His right hand supports your waist while his left squeezes your ass. Just a minute more, a second more, finally, finally his palpable desire sends you over the edge, and god how it fills the air. He takes it all and you don't fall, even as your legs lock and your grip falters. You shake and shiver in his tight grasp, palms holding tight to his shoulders. He keeps licking, just enough to keep you there until tension dissipates and you’re overstimulated. Only then does his grip loosen, following your body as you stand on your own, knees shaking.

There's an unspoken tenderness in his eyes - your baby takes pride in service.

You step away from him when you can, fixing his hair and cleaning your cum from his lips. "Sit on the chair, darling."

His knees crack when he gets up, stiff from his place on the hardwood floor. He sits, bulge straining against his trousers, watching you with rapt attention.

"I think…" you turn around, "You've more than earned your reward - as if there was any doubt in my mind."

“Oh?” He practically glows at your praise.

"And…” you walk over to your nightstand once more, "I'm not done with this yet." He swallows, gaze fixated on the rope in your hands. You smirk, "You like that idea?"

He shifts again. "Yes I - very much."

You reach into your nightstand and pull out a matte black silicone dildo, smaller, elegant even. You hold it up. “What about this? Are you up for it tonight?”

“Yes,” he nods, “I prepared myself for the possibility.”

“Perfect,“ you breathe, already excited. “Then…” your smile is nearly wicked as you regard him and his cock throbs in earnest. “Clothes off. Hands behind your back - hold your forearms.”

He acquiesces, knowing exactly what you want.

Soon he’s sitting naked on the chair, hands held behind his back, willingly at your mercy. Your ties aren’t nearly as elegant, but they restrict his movement and hug his body. You restrain his arms behind his back with a chest harness, carefully distributing the weight of the rope, adding just a touch of flourish. Even in such a simple design he looks lovely. Blue really is his color, you think, admiring him. He catches your eye.

“I was right,” you say, tilting his chin up for a chaste peck on the lips, “You look lovely in blue.” He groans and chases your lips this time. You let him, just once, and deepen the kiss yourself, before grabbing him by the hair, wrenching his head up. “Not yet, darling.”

“As you wish.” He’s breathless and kiss bitten.

You leave him and stack two large pillows on top of each other. You motion for him to stand before grabbing him by the restraints. “I will help you get into position,” you chuckle darkly, “I want you face down.”

His cheeks feel hot but he nods, “Yes Sir.”

“Good man. Lie down.”

It takes a moment since he can’t move his arms but you finally have him exactly where you want him, chest pushed into the bed, hips and ass raised by the pillows beneath him.

He tilts his head to look at you with one eye, eyebrow raised as you appear with more rope.

‘Can’t have you squirming too much, now can I?” He groans into the pillow beneath him and nods.

“Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable or need to readjust, this position might get tiring after awhile.”

“I’m sure I can take it.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m not asking. Tell me.”

He shivers. “Yes Ma’am.”

“Good.”

You uncap the lube on your nightstand and snap a glove on. He shivers at the cold feeling of your lubed finger rubbing against him, but as your hand warms so does his body and he slowly starts to meet your gentle thrusts as you enter him. You love this part. It’s incredibly intimate, almost more so that the ensuing sex, because anyone else would have been thrown out long ago - he has only ever done this with you.

Once you’re up to two fingers comfortably you withdraw your hand and replace it with your lubed up strap. “Ready?”

“I’ve been ready.” You smack his ass and he gasps.

“What was that?”

“I apologize, yes I - I’m ready.”

“That’s better. One more remark like that,” you murmur, pressing in slowly, “And I’ll rethink your reward.”

He hisses, wiggling his hips, “A-Apologies - it won’t happen again.”

‘I know it won’t,” you smile, “because you love this too much.” Finally, finally you move your hips, slow at first, until finding a gentle rhythm. You use his bound legs as leverage, pushing deep inside of him as his low, desperate moans fill the air.

As his body strains against the rope it holds tight, digging into his skin - this heat, this pleasure, your power over him is dizzying. For a few blissful moments he can’t think, all he can do is feel you surround him and hear your haunting voice in his ear.

It is easy to admire him, Lucifer Morningstar splayed out before you, rocking his ass into your hips, wanting more, more. You grab the rope holding his forearms tight against his back and pull, arching his back against the sheets. He cries out, and you lean down, pushing all your weight on top of him.

“That feel good, baby? Heh, you love it don’t you?” Your hips are slow and deep, grinding on his favorite spot, “You love being fucked like this. Wrapped in my rope, under my hand-” He moans, long and debauched. “I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this, you belong to me, don’t you?”

“Yes-!”

You’re breathless above him. “We belong to each other, right, love?”

His eyes open and he gazes at you in the adjacent mirror, “Yes…” You dip and kiss the back of his neck, soft and sweet, "Hnn…" he takes in a shuddering breath and lets his head fall forward.

“That's right, no one else deserves to touch you, no one else is good enough, worthy enough.” You whisper in his ear.

He gasps your name and pushes his ass against your hips, pathetically fucking himself on your strap. Every slap of your skin sears welts into his body. You grab his hair and jerk his body up.

“Eyes open, look at yourself.” He didn’t think he could get any redder, but the sight of you behind him, fucking his ass with slow purposeful thrusts, restraining him while tied in his own ropework, it's too much, he can’t - he’ll -

You wrench his head up, “Keep looking,” you pant, “look at the face you make when you come for me.”

He can’t help it, he comes fast and hot, hips stuttering, mouth open and gasping. You slow but you don’t stop. He whimpers but dutifully stays, taking it all.

“Good man,” you praise him, “So. Fucking. Good-” you punctuate your words by digging your nails into his back. You slowly drag them downward and tiny specks of blood bubble to the surface. He hisses but his cock jumps beneath him. “You like a little pain, don’t you?” You slap his ass with an open palm. “Answer me.”

“Yes, yes Ma’am -”

“Yes what?”

"Fuck - more, please-!”

“Filthy.” You bite, before indulging him with another slap on the ass.

You run your nails gently over the welts and he sighs in bliss. In this moment of calm you use all your strength to hoist him upward again, until his back is flush against your chest. You wrap a hand around his throat and start to bounce him on your cock. His eyes roll back and he groans, reaching around to grab your hip as he rocks back into you.

“When I cut you loose,” you pant, “I want you to lie down on your back, legs spread, waiting and ready for me again. Do you understand me?”

He swallows breathlessly and nods.

You lean him forward and gently pull out. You untie his legs, and then his arms before dropping the rope next to the bed. His body is tinged red with slight rope burn, just how he likes.

He rolls over onto his back, finally making eye contact with you. You smile at him, gentle, and his pupils pin. “Spread your legs for me.”

Lucifer grabs his own knees, and spreads his legs while you refuse to let him lose eye contact. His red flush is delicious, and so is his twitching cock, clearly enjoying this.

You grab more lube from the nightstand and quickly reapply before holding one of his legs to your chest and slipping back inside. He groans and rocks his hips forward, savoring the feeling.

You slowly snap your hips forward, reaching deep inside him, you keep repositioning until he gasps and then you hold there. Little thrusts of your hips grinding against his ass. He gasps low, moaning sweetly in his deep voice as sweat trickles down his temple.

“Kiss me-” he croaks, reaching for you. You melt into him and grind against him as his hands roam your body. He doesn’t realize he’s whimpering and shuddering, or if he does he doesn’t care.

You continue like this for a while, enjoying his gasping deep moans in your ear, his lips and teeth on your neck. Finally, at your mercy, you gently trace your fingers over the head of his cock. The noise he makes is agonizing, and you have half a mind to continue neglecting him. But he has your heart as you keep up that gentle, light contact, and he doesn’t ask for more. His head is spinning, filled with thoughts of you, you, just you.

You speed up your hand as your hips get tired and he grips your back, rocking into you. Finally you feel him tense, feel his blunt nails dig into your back.

“There you go, my pretty bird,”

He gasps, light and beautiful, shuddering as he comes, keening as each slow, deep thrust of your hips milks another dribble of cum out of him.

You kiss again and again, covered in sweat, cum, and specks of blood, ignoring the passage of time.

-

Darkness blankets your bedroom, barely lit in deep navy shadow. Your fingernails fall up and down rhythmically over the rope burn on Lucifer’s back.

“I heard you were approached last week.” He murmurs.

“At the Banquet…? Oh, did Asmo say something?”

Lucifer chuckles, "He said something akin to "Everyone here is itching for their chance, don't let them out of your sight."

You feign exasperation. "And what did you do, you let me out of your sight. Now I'm in bed with a demon."

Lucifer snorts, "The very same demon you propositioned in a coat closet."

"What can I say? I know who I want," you kiss his temple.

Lucifer leans into you further, draped across your body. "Don't you have plans early tomorrow morning?"

“You yawn again, “Solomon said he has something important to talk to me about. What exactly, I’m not sure… he can wait until I've had breakfast.”

“That sorcerer…”

“He wants you so bad,” you chuckle, “I mean, it isn’t up to me, but I enjoy acting as if it is.”

“Rest assured,” he kisses your shoulder, “he’ll never have me, not like you do.”

Your smile is gentle. “I love you, Luci.”

“And I you.”

Lucifer closes his eyes and relaxes his sore body, satisfied and calm. He resolves to make you breakfast in the morning before seeing you off to Solomon.

Truly, he thinks, there's nothing he can’t face as long as you’re there when he wakes.

#lucifer obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me smut #sub lucifer #dom mc #my writing #wearyeyebrow #teeny tiny bit of nightbringer angst at the end #dom!reader #sub!lucifer #sub obey me

[sugarsnappeases]

microfic - bartylily!! | 2k words | infidelity (sorry james!) and sexual content!! (smuttiest thing i’ve ever written lmao) also barty is a dressmaker and lily is coming for a fitting (wink wink)

“You know, Lady Potter, the more I see you, the more convinced I am that your husband just doesn’t know how to treat a lady right”

Lily rolled her eyes as she walked further into the room, looking at Barty out of the corner of her eye as the door fell shut behind her, “He knows how to pay for all these dresses”

Barty chuckled, stepping up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders, draping himself over her like he wanted her to wear him instead of a dress, leaning in so his lips were pressed against her ear, “Because that’s the only thing you come here for”

“Of course,” said Lily, smoothing down the front of the dress she was wearing and studiously ignoring the heat she could feel rising in his cheeks as Barty bit at her earlobe, trailing his lips down her neck, nipping at her skin. “I’m here for a dress fitting, nothing more, the Mckinnons are having a soirée and I need new measurements done”

“Riiight,” Barty dragged out the word, pulling back, running his hands along her shoulders and down her arms, “Well, I suppose you had better take your dress off then, we want to make these measurements as… close as possible”

Lily laughed, turning to swat at Barty’s arm, catching him watching her, something between awe and pride in his eyes, the same way he’d looked at her the first time he’d made her laugh - the first time he’d made her cum.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to help me with the buttons,” she smiled, playing coy, turning back around again. She could feel the heat of his body as he stepped closer to her again, his breath on the back of her neck, standing far too close to be professional, his hands working their way down her back, undoing the line of pearl buttons.

With the last one, he slid his hand under the fabric of the dress, cold on the skin of her lower back, her waist, squeezing at her hip, and she gasped.

“There,” he said, sliding his other hand up her shoulder and helping her to slip the sleeves off, the top of the dress falling to gather at her waist, exposing her chest to the cool air of the fitting room. Lily leaned back into him slightly as he ran his hand up her stomach to cup one of her breasts.

She wasn’t quite sure how it had started, this thing between them, this routine - Lily would go to get fitted for a dress and Barty would get her off - but there was something addictive about the way he touched her, the attention, the adoration, the worship in his fingers, in his words. He made her feel alive, he made her ache, just a few touches and she could already feel that she was wet, anticipation bubbling under her skin wherever his hands went.

“Now,” Barty said, speaking into her neck, lips pressed against her skin, two fingers circling lightly around her nipple, the other hand moving downwards towards where her dress was bunched up at her waist, “Can you do the rest yourself or do you need my help?”

Lily lay her head back to rest on his shoulder, feeling herself blush as he licked at her neck, breathing, “My husband has paid for your finest attentions”

Barty bit into her neck then, pinching at her nipple at the same time, making Lily gasp again.

“So he has,” Barty agreed, face moving away slightly, both hands moving down to sit just above her dress, fingers brushing over the skin just underneath the fabric, “And, although I’m sure you’re used to disappointment where Lord Potter is concerned, I always make sure my customers are satisfied”

With that he gathered her dress in his hands and pulled it down over her hips, her arse, her thighs, letting it fall to the floor as his hands roamed back up her body, squeezing at her thighs, her arse, her hips.

“My my, Lady Potter,” he murmured, pulling her backwards, closer to him, her bare skin pressing against his clothes, his fingers pressing into her skin, “No undergarments? How scandalous”

Lily huffed, bringing a hand up to thread through his hair, tugging lightly in a way that made his hands squeeze tighter at her body, “Do you satisfy all of your customers in the same way?”

Barty lowered his face to her neck again, mouth just above her pulse point, like he was trying to speak directly into her bloodstream, “Why? Would you be jealous if I said yes?”

One of his hands moved down over her hip bone, brushing through curls and circling her clit, the other moved upwards, cupping her breast again, squeezing her nipple. Lily tightened her grip on his hair, trying to sound unaffected, trying not to moan, as she said, “No”

Barty laughed, hands unrelenting, everywhere, making her squirm against him, heat not just in her cheeks now, “I’m the most popular dressmaker in the city, you know. You’re one of six different fittings just today. Would you be jealous if all of those people got the same treatment as you? My finest attentions?”

Lily shook her head, sure she wouldn’t be able to contain a moan if she attempted to speak this time, his hands were unyielding, inexorable, pressing, squeezing, his breath hot on her neck.

“You’ll have to use your words, princess,” Barty said, pulling her body backwards even closer into his, like he was trying to push himself into her bones, merge them into one, become a part of her, “Tell me. Would you be jealous if I told you that you’re not the only one?”

He moved a finger through her wetness as he spoke, rubbing at her clit again before sliding it into her warm heat, his other hand still playing with her nipple, “If I told you that my shop is popular because of more than just the clothes?”

Lily gasped, hand lifting to join the other clenched tight in Barty’s hair, as his finger slid in and out of her, as he kept speaking, mouth still pressed to her pulse point, “That everyone you see wearing my clothes - all your acquaintances, your friends, your husband - gets all the same benefits that you do?”

She moaned as he added a second finger, as his other hand pinched hard at her nipple, as he bit and licked at her neck, merciless, relentless, everywhere at once in a way that made her feel like she was stood in the middle of a bright, hot bonfire, burning at the stake.

“Tell me, princess,” Barty continued, inexorable, “Would you be jealous?”

His thumb moved to circle her clit as his fingers pressed in and out of her, and Lily moaned again, panting, trying to focus enough to speak, mind consumed by the fire, by the pleasure, by his fingers, his worship of her.

“No,” she eventually managed to breathe out, a word that turned into a moan halfway through as Barty sucked hard at her pulse point, still pressing impossibly closer to her, never close enough.

He licked at the spot he’d sucked, tongue hot and wet, then moved his head away from her neck slightly, the hand on her breast moving up over her collarbone to rest around her throat instead, applying a little pressure, making Lily squirm again, the heat in her burning ever higher, rising to a roaring inferno, closer and closer to the peak of its height.

“What was that, princess?” he said, trailing kisses over her shoulder now, his own breathing heavy as she moaned again, his erection pressing against the curve of her arse where their bodies were tight against each other, closer than close, merging into one.

“I didn’t quite catch it,” he continued, biting at her shoulder, one hand flexing around her neck, the other still working inside her, three fingers now, lighting her up from the inside out, relentless.

Lily pulled at his hair, hard enough to hurt, fingers in a white-knuckled grip, hands sweaty, her turn to make him moan, low and almost desperate into the skin of her shoulder, a curl of satisfaction only adding to the crescendo of heat inside her.

“I said-” she panted, biting at her lip to stop another moan of her own as Barty’s thumb dug into the space between her jaw bone and her skull, as his other thumb rubbed unrelenting circles onto her clit.

“I said no,” she managed, pressing herself back even closer into Barty’s body, close enough that the shape of his shirt buttons, his belt buckle, would probably be indented into the skin of her back, leaving a mark like the hickeys she was sure were bruising her neck, becoming a part of her, fusion.

Barty laughed, hot breath on Lily’s skin, tightening his grip around her throat, fingers sliding in and out of her faster, harder, moving to press his lips against her ear, “I don’t think I believe you”

Lily was hurtling rapidly towards an explosion, toes curling, a flame travelling along a trail of gunpowder, approaching the powder keg, set to blow up, shatter, erupt. She couldn’t stop the noises coming out of her mouth now, needy and greedy and obscene, almost as obscene as the sound of Barty’s fingers moving in her, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, to the burning inferno.

“I think you like the idea of being special too much, princess,” Barty maintained the pressure around her throat, on her clit, relentless, inexorable, merciless, moving to bite at her collarbone, like he was trying to sink his teeth into the bone itself and suck out the marrow, and Lily’s eyes rolled back as something exploded inside of her, the fire reaching the powder keg, falling headfirst into a roaring inferno, fireworks erupting behind her eyelids, collapsing entirely against Barty.

He moaned against her skin again, entirely desperate-sounding now, animalistic, raw, as she spasmed against him, around his fingers still inside her. He moved the hand that had been around her throat to wrap around her waist instead, holding her up as she shattered into pieces in his hands, licking at the layer of sweat on the skin of her neck, tongue hot and wet, groaning like he was tasting ambrosia, something holy despite the way she was burning up in hell’s inferno.

Lily panted, coming down from her high, Barty helping her through it, his erection still pressing up against her arse, his belt buckle, his shirt buttons, still pressing into her skin, the two of them merging into one.

“And you are special,” Barty went on, pulling his fingers out of her, lifting them to his lips, licking them clean and moaning again, the gods’ nectar, divinity, sublimity. With his fingers clean, he gripped Lily’s chin gently and tilted her face towards his, awe, pride, devotion, worship in his eyes as he looked at her blissed-out face.

He kissed her, slow and reverent, and she could taste herself on his lips, his tongue, hot and wet, murmuring against her lips, “So, so special for me, princess”

Lily nearly collapsed back against him again, entirely weak in his arms, still breathing heavily, against his lips, anticipation building again, addicted to his touch, his adoration, the way he held her like he wanted to melt into her, like he wanted them to fuse into one, inseparable.

She turned in his arms, facing him now, wrapping her arms around his neck, one hand sliding into his hair to deepen their kiss, Barty’s hands moving to rest on her hips, pulling back slightly, something a little mocking in his eyes, to say “You know, I bet these little meetings are the only time you ever cum”

Lily scoffed, pulling back further, moving her hands to rest on his chest, pulling her hips back from where they had been grinding against Barty’s, against the wet patch in the place his trousers were straining, “You know, I came here for a dress fitting, nothing more, and you haven’t even gotten your tape measure out yet”

#idk where this came from but. it certainly came #as did lily. #so. #bartylily #lily evans #lily potter #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #please be nice to me i never write smut like this xoxo #feeling a little tiny bit ridiculous but yk. good vibes. #yeeehaw baby #kara’s incy wincy fics

[animasola86]

Throw me into the Tempest: Ch.2

Notes: This is still dedicated to @sallowslady 💛

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!reader (Hufflepuff)

Genre: Drama/Angst/Fluff // Words: 6.2k // [Read on AO3]

Synopsis: Your best friend is a sweetheart and you would do anything to protect her. Yet when you get to know her boyfriend, there is little you can do against those feelings he invokes in you.

[ ← Chapter 1 ] -- [ ↓ Chapter 2 ]

You hadn't planned to fall in love with your best friend's boyfriend – and you certainly hadn't planned on ending up in a cabin on the beach with him during a roaring thunderstorm. But here you were.

After that first unexpected, yet highly desired kiss, you had made your way to the cabin, both of you soaked and cold and shivering as the heavy rain showed no mercy, the raging winds dragged at your clothes and hair, and thunder and lightning guided your way to the tiny stone house right next to the cliff. You had your arm around Sebastian's waist and he held you close to his body, his warmth the only thing keeping you sane during the raging tempest. Though it wasn't just the weather that kept you on your toes.

There was turmoil within your mind, guilt and regret fought in a fierce battle against your own needs and wishes, and there was no way to tell who had the upper hand. It was a constant conflict and it only halted once you reached the cabin, stepped inside, and when Sebastian closed the door behind you, shutting out the storm, your own mind went silent as well as you met his dark gaze.

You'd shared those gazes before over the last weeks, whenever you would find yourself on either side of your best friend Adelaide, yet you never knew he would be as conflicted as you were about the situation. But that kiss just now had spoken volumes. And the way he now looked at you made your legs tremble even more as you stood, cold and shivering, in the tiny cabin, surrounded by the green glow of one of Ignatia Wildsmith's Floo flames.

You were both out of breath, both deep in thought over whatever was happening between you. It was when the stone face would suddenly speak that you came back to reality for a little bit.

“Quite the weather we're having, isn't it?” the enchanted bust quipped happily and you both stared at Ignatia Wildsmith with wide eyes.

While your heart was pounding inside your chest and you felt that the guilt and shock of potentially being discovered was winning your internal battle for the moment, it was Sebastian who walked towards the Floo flame, raised his wand and muttered: “Silencio.” You saw the stone face's mouth move and her eyes widen, but no more words came from her. He then unclasped his drenched robes and hung them right over the bust, possibly to dry them out, but equally keeping the nosy witch from interrupting you again – and witnessing what would possibly be happening next.

When he turned back to you, he started unbuttoning his soaked green blazer. “You should get out of those clothes or you'll really catch a cold,” he told you casually, even though you heard the undertone of his low voice. The implications.

Yet you had no idea what to do. You were frozen to the spot, your mind racing, your heart beating even faster, and all you could do was watch him undress in front of you. Before he got rid of his shirt though, he walked towards you, and without any warning he grabbed your face once more and pressed his lips to yours. You were too shocked to react properly, too shocked or stunned or rendered unable to do anything under the intensity of his kiss.

So you stopped fighting against it. Because who were you kidding? You had imagined this since the day you had first met him and even though it had turned out that he was the boyfriend of your best friend, you had never been able to shut out those thoughts entirely. In the haze of your mind you also told yourself that it had been him who had made the first step. He had kissed you first. It wasn't your fault. It was a lame excuse, yet frankly, you couldn't care less in this very moment.

And so you raised your hands and grabbed the back of his head and deepened the kiss, finally indulging in those fantasies that had kept you awake at night for quite a while now. You felt his hands on the front of your robes, and while your tongue moved against his, your robes were slipping off your shoulders before his fingers fidgeted with your tie and then the buttons of your blazer.

You ended up stumbling through the tiny cabin, leaving a trail of drenched clothes as he rid you of your blazer, vest and tie, before you came to sit on the rather uncomfortable camp bed in the corner, him with his shirt wide open and yours half-way undone, his hands all over your back, cold clammy fingers slipping past the hem of your shirt, causing you to shiver deeply, while your hands dug into his wet locks as you kept kissing each other as if nothing else mattered.

There really was nothing holding you back any more when you clambered onto his lap, straddling him with your skirt riding up dangerously, while you kept your mouth glued to his, the heat of the moment too overwhelming to notice anything else. Your head was blissfully empty as his hands moved down your lower back and along the curves of your rear until they practically vanished beneath the thick fabric, pushing your skirt up even more as he caressed your thighs through the thin layer of your undergarments.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, brushing against his with every frantic breath as your fingers scraped over his scalp. You felt light-headed and barely registered the surrounding noises of the storm any more, you didn't even flinch when thunder cracked in the distance, all you felt were his lips on yours, his tongue invading your mouth, his warm breath doing its best to keep the cold at bay.

Sebastian, however, seemed still more attentive than you, because suddenly he let go of your thighs, grabbed your shoulders and spun you around, before he harshly pulled his lips away from you and stood up, his fingers darting to the front of his unbuttoned shirt.

Only then did you notice the cold air drafting into the cabin and the door that had been ripped wide open. In the doorway stood a tall, dark man, and when you realized it was Solomon Sallow, you froze and felt the coldest shiver yet running down your spine. You stood as well and gathered your clothes, pressing them frantically to your chest, while you tried to calm your heart.

The man didn't say a single word, just threw his dark gazes around, and while you were busy putting on your drenched clothes and trying to pretend that absolutely nothing had happened, you heard a cry of relief before you saw a tiny girl entering the cabin, her blonde hair stuck to her forehead as she made her way towards Sebastian, who had indeed managed to button his shirt and caught Adelaide with wide eyes as she threw herself at him.

“I was so worried,” she wailed and pushed her face into his chest, while he hugged her back hesitantly, his gaze slowly moving towards you. You swallowed hard and looked away, continuing to get dressed again. You could blame the storm for the sorry state of your hair and your flushed face, and the cold for the shaking of your limbs, but your swollen lips and breathlessness would be harder to explain. Luckily your best friend didn't pay you any attention as she lay in the arms of her boyfriend.

“You should head back to Hogwarts now,” you heard the gruff voice of Solomon as he grabbed Sebastian's robes off the face of the Floo lady with two fingers. Luckily he didn't notice her moving, but silenced lips, or simply didn't care much about it.

You realized then that he certainly knew what had been going on, yet you were glad he was too stoic to talk about it. Which didn't make it any better though. You felt awful, the knot inside your stomach clenched painfully, even more so when you looked over to where Sebastian was still holding sobbing Adelaide, who must have been worried out of her mind when you hadn't returned with him to the cottage.

She was too innocent for her own good and too oblivious to notice the gaze you exchanged with the Slytherin boy. As you felt your own tears rising behind your lashes, you looked away and turned towards the Floo flame. “I'll see you at school,” you told them as you grabbed the Floo powder. You didn't wait for any reaction or reply, you just threw the powder into the flame, stated your destination and then stepped into the green flames engulfing you.

The travel was as gut-wrenching as your guilt, and as you returned to your common room that night, you made a beeline for the bathroom, soaked in the tub for longer than was necessary and tried but failed to forget about those truly unforgettable lips. When you went to your dorm room afterwards, Lenora and Poppy were already asleep, and when you spotted Adelaide getting ready for bed, you couldn't even face her when you slipped into your pyjamas and then under the covers, faking a sneeze to make it more believable that you were unable to talk to her that night.

The next day you still couldn't look into her round face, even though you tried your best to play along, blaming your puffy eyes and sore throat on the weather you had found yourself in yesterday, when in reality you had spent most of the night crying your eyes out, trying to cope with what had happened and what you had done. It got even worse when you walked to class with her and suddenly saw Sebastian in front of you. You felt your heart breaking all over again when she would hug him and laugh with him and he would behave as if absolutely nothing had happened.

He didn't even acknowledge your presence most of the time. You felt the cold stab of jealousy all day long, having to witness those two together in class and out of it. Not that it would have mattered to either of them, but you excused yourself when they were heading to the library and decided to wallow in your sorrow on your own time, or rather under the blanket of your bed. Which you did for a while, before you finally managed to push through and focus on school work. Or so you hoped.

And because fate was a cruel mistress, as soon as you reached Central Hall, you saw the blonde Hufflepuff and the Slytherin boy leaving the library, sharing a goodbye kiss and then departing into opposite directions. You hid behind a statue and let Adelaide pass you by unnoticed, before you'd had it and went straight after Sebastian. You caught up with him on his way to his common room.

“Sebastian!” you called to him and you saw him stiffen before he turned around and faced you. “Can we talk?”

He motioned you to follow him down a smaller corridor and once you did and you came to stand in front of him, you felt your heart beating faster and the knot in your stomach tightening. He just raised his eyebrows questioningly, letting you lead the talk you so desperately needed to conduct.

You inhaled deeply. “What we did –” you started and looked up at him, feeling new tears burning inside your eyes. “What we almost did –”

“Yes, almost,” he chimed in and crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Nothing happened. No harm done.”

“No harm done?” you repeated shrilly, glaring at him, feeling your insides convulse in a mixture of rage and disappointment. “We kissed!” you whisper-yelled. “And you felt me up...”

“So?” he asked, his voice a tad too neutral for your liking.

“So? You have a girlfriend!” you hissed, your voice shaking badly. “Who happens to be my best friend! And... and you're my friend too... and now we –”

“Stop!” he said firmly and dropped his arms, looking at you darkly. “Nothing happened,” he repeated. “Stop stressing about it. Let's just... forget about it, okay?”

Your mouth fell open at that, while your heart shattered into a million pieces. You didn't know what you had expected of this talk, but certainly not this. Feeling your lips trembling, in the bad way, you swallowed hard and when the first tear rolled down your cheek, you quickly wiped it away, averting your gaze. “I don't know if I can...” you whispered, staring at the ground.

“You'll have to,” he said coldly, only making it worse. “We'll have to. You were right, I have a girlfriend and she doesn't deserve this. It was... a mistake.”

You heard his words and they cut through your already shattered heart without mercy, immediately numbing you. Without blinking, without looking at him one more time, you turned around and walked away, slowly, as if in a trance, your breaths forcibly deep, as you clenched your hands into fists and an icy shiver rushed through your limbs.

Forcing yourself not to think about it any more, you somehow made it back to the Hufflepuff common room, your body shaking from the emotions trying to burst free. Yet as soon as you saw your bed and the blanket you wanted to hide under, you realized that you couldn't do that. If you allowed yourself to wallow in your pain, it would only make it so much worse.

So you turned around yet again and went straight to the Clock Tower. It was dark and no member of Crossed Wands was to be seen, so you had all the training dummies to yourself. The pendulum moved lazily back and forth, making the air vibrate eerily in its wake, as you pelted the enchanted dummies with all the spells you knew, slow at first, then more and more enraged, until you were screaming your spells and the force of your unhinged magic would shatter everything around you.

You had no idea for how long you did this, but when all the dummies were lying shattered on the floor in front of you, smashed and dismembered and broken into tiny pieces, you fell to your knees, breathless and exhausted, sweat on your forehead. Your wand hand was shaking badly, and when the first tears came streaming down your face, you just let them flow until they dropped off your chin and onto the stone floor beneath you.

Crying quietly at first, you soon let your rage and sorrow get the better of you and wallowed loudly, your voice echoing off the high walls, sounding like the wails of a banshee. As you let it all out, you found yourself breathing heavily, feeling numb and completely spent, but strangely enough also a little bit relieved. Leaning back on your arms, you looked up at the darkness of the Clock Tower above you and inhaled deeply, calming down with every beating of your slowly recovering heart.

It wasn't fully recovering, but the shattered pieces tentatively moved closer together again as you realized how silly and pathetic it was to cry over a boy like this. It had been a nice kiss, a nice moment being so close to him, but that was about it. It was not worth all those tears you had shed and the anger and the guilt you were feeling. You had to move on, somehow, resume your friendship with Adelaide and ignore the boy at her side. You just had to. There was no other way.

And so you forced yourself onwards, back to your common room, into your bed, hoping to start the next day as if nothing had happened. Luckily you had enough school work and extra assignments to keep you busy and talking with Adelaide became easier and easier as the day went on. You did your best to avoid any contact with Sebastian whatsoever and forced yourself to simply ignore him now. It was better that way.

Yet as oblivious and innocent as the blonde Hufflepuff was, she quickly picked up on the fact that her boyfriend and her best friend weren't talking any more. It was rather conspicuous now that you thought about it. At first you tried to convince her that she was seeing things, telling her you were just too busy with school work and those extra assignments, and luckily you were indeed also quite involved with helping Professor Fig unravel the ancient magic mystery, so whenever she would invite you to spend time with her and Sebastian, you excused yourself quickly.

Another week or two passed and you maintained your friendship with Adelaide, merely thanks to your seating and sleeping arrangement, the only times you had her all to yourself, away from the doe-eyed boy that you told yourself to ignore during the day, yet come night you would still often think and dream about him. Because you just couldn't help it after all.

You simply couldn't forget the way he had kissed you in that storm, all those raw emotions, the longing and hunger and desperation, the need and the comfort, and the more you thought about it, the less painful his words afterwards became because you deliberately chose to push them far away as if he'd never even said them.

Somehow you were able to look at him again, at least in those moments you thought you were alone and no one, not even him, would notice your stares. Whenever you would sit with Adelaide and he would join you, you'd give him a short nod and tried to be civil, yet as you still couldn't quite control your emotions or the blush of your cheeks, you avoided making eye contact when your best friend was around.

Halloween came, and after the splendid feast, the fifth-years decided to continue the festivities in your common room, because you had the most food around and also because most Hufflepuffs wouldn't be caught dead in the hallways after curfew.

So you found yourself surrounded by a bunch of Gryffindors: Natty, Leander and Garreth, the latter had even brought some of his brews to the party most were a little reluctant to try. Then there were a bunch of Ravenclaws, Everett, Andrew, Samantha and even Amit, who was more focused on the cats of the common room than socialising though. And amongst all your classmates, only one Slytherin was present, because apparently the snakes had their own party in the dungeons and most of them seemed to prefer their own house's company.

Most, except one brunet who sat next to Adelaide, trying to focus on the ghost story Arthur was telling, while his brown eyes wandered over to where you were sitting on more than one occasion. You tried to ignore Sebastian as best as you could, forcing conversations with Natty or Samantha, but you still felt your cheeks blush deeply under the permanent stares from across the room.

When it got late, most of your classmates were invited to stay in the dormitories for the night, because as much as most Hufflepuffs wouldn't be caught dead outside during curfew, they didn't want their friends to get into trouble for them either, so all the fifth-years found a place amongst the couches or lying on the floor next to their classmates' beds.

Adelaide had fallen asleep on a couch near the fireplace, with you sitting in front of it, staring into the flames, while her boyfriend sat next to her sleeping form, holding her feet.

“We should take her to bed,” you heard him say quietly, the first words you exchanged that night. You didn't look at him, but nodded, knowing that the couch might look cosy, but was nothing compared to one's own bed.

You stood and stretched, a deep sigh escaping you, and when you turned to the couch, you noticed Sebastian staring at you, his jaw set, but his eyes blazing. You blinked and quickly focused on your sleeping best friend. Before you could do anything, he had scooped her up into his arms and was about to walk towards the stairs leading to your dormitory, before he stopped and turned his head to you.

“I won't be able to get up there, right?” he remarked.

“Of course not,” you replied and stood next to him, unable to not look at his profile – or the way his muscles moved under the sleeves of his jumper. “Let me take her.”

“You sure you can handle it?”

You scoffed, drawing your wand. “I am sure,” you declared and used the Levitation charm to gently lift her from his arms. “I'm a witch, remember? Stop underestimating me!” You didn't know why you said that, but it slipped out nonetheless.

“I never did,” he replied, watching you closely.

You threw him a heated gaze, feeling all the emotions bubble up all over again, but before it could get any worse, you turned to the stairs. “I'll take it from here. Good night, Sebastian.”

He didn't say anything when you started climbing the stairs, levitating your best friend in front of you. Your breath quickened, not from the exertion, but from how he failed to respond, how he just stood there at the bottom of the stairs, looking up. You tried to ignore the aching of your heart and quickly made your way to your room.

Inside you found a few more snoring girls than usual. After you brought Adelaide to her bed, you noticed that yours was taken by Natty and Samantha was lying in a pile of blankets next to Lenora's bed, all of the girls were sound asleep. Sighing quietly, you opted to find a couch downstairs.

When you returned to the common room, you stopped in your tracks as you saw the figure pacing in front of the exit. There was no one else around, the boys seemed to have retreated to their dormitory as well. For a moment you didn't know what to do. It was just you and Sebastian now, alone for the first time since he broke your heart.

Feeling it thundering away in your chest now, slightly fixed, but still damaged, you inhaled deeply and decided to ignore him further as you headed straight for the secret room next to the fireplace where you knew a very comfy armchair was waiting to be slept in. But as soon as you entered the small space, ready to burrow yourself in for the night, a hand grabbed the hidden door and suddenly another body pressed in behind you.

You spun around with a gasp and looked up at Sebastian, who slowly pulled the door shut behind him. “What are you doing?” you breathed, feeling his body heat radiating off him as he stood very close to you.

“Fixing a mistake,” he said quietly, his low voice vibrating through your body.

You frowned at the word and felt your insides clenching up. “Which one?” you asked pointedly, trying to hold his gaze, with all the heat rushing into your cheeks.

He gave you a half-hearted smirk. “Good question, the list is rather long, eh?”

Scoffing at him, you turned away and towards the armchair behind you. Yet you didn't sit down. The room felt cramped now and you could barely breathe through the scent of baked goods and sweets lingering in the air.

“Listen, I know you're hurting... and I'm sorry...” you heard him say behind you as you focused on a plate of cupcakes, mindlessly poking at the colourful icing. You stopped with your index finger deep inside the soft cream coating.

“I'm not hurting!” you protested without looking at him.

“Come on, I've seen the state of the Crossed Wands dummies, I know that was you. Lucan was devastated by the way...”

“Well, I hate being called a mistake...” you muttered under your breath. “I had to let it out...”

“You are not a mistake,” he whispered and you felt him walking closer. “What we did was.”

You spun around then, staring at him, cream dripping from your finger as you pointed it at his chest. “So you still think so? Then why are you here?” you spat at him, unable to keep your voice down.

“How we handled it was a mistake, how... I handled it,” he clarified quietly, looking down at you with warm eyes. “I don't regret the kiss...” he added under his breath as he looked at your finger for a moment.

You glared at him, your expression slowly softening. “But you said it was wrong...”

“You said we shouldn't be doing this to Addy,” he corrected. “And I agreed because I thought you meant it.” He tilted his head. “But you never meant it, did you?”

You felt your cheeks burning up even more, your breaths slightly more shallow as your heart was flooded with all those emotions. The urge to touch him was as strong as the urge to flee. You were conflicted all over again.

He watched you patiently, his eyes wandering over your face. “Well, do you?” he asked after a long moment of heated silence.

Inhaling deeply, you squared your shoulders, dropping your hand to your side. “What about you?” you threw his question back at him. “Since you only seemed to have agreed with me for my sake, what do you really think? Are you okay with doing this to Addy?”

“Doing what exactly?” he teased in a whisper and took a step closer to you, towering over you, his hand brushing against yours as he moved his fingers over your sticky fingertip. You felt your heart beating even faster.

“Repeating a mistake...” you whispered.

“I'm okay with it,” he then said and raised his free hand to caress your cheek with the back of his finger. “Are you?”

You swallowed hard. The anger and remorse and doubts and turmoil that had settled in your gut over the last weeks seemed to slowly fade away, no, not slowly, it was all gone the moment he leaned closer to you, the moment his eyes bored into yours, the moment his hand cupped your cheek and pulled you towards him.

“I...” you started, your lips parted and trembling, your mind suddenly fuzzy. The thick air of the room got to you, or maybe it was his hot breath on your lips that made your head spin. “Sebastian... we...”

“Yes, we,” he repeated, his nose nuzzling against yours as he leaned even closer. “There is something between us, I know you feel it too. I was trying to ignore it, for Adelaide's sake, but...” You watched him, holding your breath as you listened intently. “You know, I like her, I really do, she helped me a lot over the last months, she was there, she listened, but when I met you... there was a different kind of connection.”

You felt a shiver running down your spine as he raised his other hand to push a strand of your hair behind your ear before both of his hands held your face, his own so close you could count every single freckle on it. But you only stared into his brown eyes, lost in their warmth, with his words sinking deep into your soul.

“Every time I see you, I want to hold you, touch you, feel you close,” he whispered, his low voice sending goosebumps down your skin. “I want to taste you again... I want to forget everything with you...”

A soft gasp escaped your throat as you took a shuddering breath. You saw the corner of his mouth twitching upwards slightly. His confession left you speechless, you had no idea what to think, how to handle this, how to move on. You wanted all of it too, but the image of your best friend was still etched in the back of your mind.

“Tell me you want it too,” he said quietly as he tilted his head slightly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and stared at him. “Tell me you won't push me away again,” you whispered hoarsely.

“I never pushed you away,” he replied. “And I never will. I'm all in,” he added and you could feel the warmth of his tongue as he licked his lips. “I am all in, if you are as well.”

For a short moment, you closed your eyes and thought about it, but whatever your mind came up with was silenced and suppressed by the desire clawing at your heart. As your eyes fluttered open again, a jerk rushed through your body and in the same motion, your lips moved against his, finally connecting.

When your hands found the front of his jumper, he had already replied the sudden gesture and pressed his mouth to yours with a loud exhale, his hands guiding your face with a tight grip as he kissed you back with fervour.

“I... I'm in...” you breathed against his lips as you leaned back slightly to catch your breath. His eyes sparkled in the dim light of the room before you felt him smiling against you.

Soon you had forgotten all your previous hardships, all your doubts. Any guilt or other conflicting emotion was pushed aside quickly, to be burrowed under the ever-growing need to be close to Sebastian.

You found yourself stumbling through the small room, knocking over piles of books and almost causing a giant stack of plates to crash. Hands and limbs entangled, you managed to make it to the armchair, your lips still glued to his, your fingers digging into his jumper as his dug into your hair. The air around you got even stuffier as your heavy breaths mingled.

When he let himself fall into the chair and quickly pulled you onto his lap, giving you the tiniest moment to catch your breath, his dark eyes met yours, but there was no more doubt between you, no feelings keeping you away from each other. Leaning against him, you grabbed the back of his neck and pressed your lips to his and continued where you left off.

For the longest time all you did was kiss him, like you had imagined so many sleepless nights before, shifting on his thighs, feeling his body heat through your woollen tights, his hands eager to explore your body in search of any inch of skin beneath your various layers of clothes. When his fingers eventually slipped past the hem of your jumper and right down the waistband of your skirt, you let out a soft gasp and leaned away slightly to look at him, your lips swollen and tingling, your breaths as heavy as his.

His long fingers teased at your soft skin, resting on your lower back, dangerously close to the groove between your bum cheeks. You had no idea how he had managed to slip his hand past all those layers of fabric, yet the feeling of his warm skin on yours caused you to shiver deeply, and frankly it concerned you a little.

“Should I stop?” he asked quietly, his voice hoarse and lower than usual, the sound vibrating in your ear deliciously.

You shook your head. “No, just...” you started, biting your trembling lip. “Promise me you won't tell me this was a mistake tomorrow.”

He watched you closely, red spots dancing on his freckled cheeks. “I promise,” he said. “If you promise me the same. No doubts, okay? We're in this together now...”

“Are we?”

Sebastian tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “I believe we are, you said so!” he replied, sounding almost a little hurt.

You gave him a soft chuckle, your finger tracing the line of his jaw. “I said so and I mean it, I do! I promise!” you clarified and leaned closer to press a soft kiss to his warm cheek. “I've wanted this for so long... long before I knew you were Addy's –”

“Don't say it!” he warned, his free hand moving up to cover your mouth. “I'll talk to her. I'll end it. I –”

You grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand down. “No! Don't tell her!”

He stared at you. “You'd rather go behind her back? Keep this all a secret?”

“I don't want to hurt her,” you whispered, lowering your gaze as you shifted on his lap. “I... I know what a broken heart feels like. I don't want her to feel the same...”

His hand grabbed your chin and made you look at him. “And doing this behind her back is better? She'll get hurt either way! We should tell her sooner than later, otherwise it'll only get worse,” he said darkly, his brown eyes boring into yours.

“I don't want to lose her...” you muttered, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

He gave you a sigh and a sympathetic look. “I'm afraid that is no longer up to you...” he whispered. “Perhaps, if you're honest with her, she'll remain your friend, but –”

Your turn to sigh deeply. “I really can't have both? I mean, I'm sharing a dorm with her! I need to get along with her –”

“So be honest with her!”

“Have you met girls before in your life, Sebastian? I grew up with three female cousins and we got along great, we would have died for each other, but as soon as two of them started to like the same boy, they had turned into furies and couldn't decide soon enough who to throw off a cliff first! Girls can be ravenous creatures when boys get involved, believe me. They'd throw me out of the dorm room immediately! And I can't sleep in this chair for the rest of my education!”

He raised an eyebrow as he listened to you. “That's quite the pickle you found yourself in, huh?” he commented. “You want to go back on our agreement then?” he offered with a frown, slowly retrieving his hand from under your skirt.

You grabbed his wrist and stopped him. “No. I want this,” you said firmly. “But... I need time to think about what to tell Adelaide. Please.”

“So you expect me to keep up the facade of being her boyfriend? You'd be okay with that?” He watched you closely.

You inhaled deeply and nodded. “I have to be, and I will be, because I know that I... can do the same things with you, maybe even more,” you whispered, licking your lips. “I mean, from what I've seen, your relationship was rather tame, wasn't it?”

He snorted. “Addy is a very sheltered girl, yes,” he replied with a smirk. “You not so much, eh?”

You poked his chest playfully. “Perhaps that is why you like me?” you teased, before leaning back, your eyes a little wider. “You do like me, right?”

Sebastian barked a laugh that was almost a little too loud for the quiet room. “I have my hand on your bum, I think I do, yes,” he whispered and winked at you, his fingers slipping down the curve of your body once more.

You blushed deeply and shook your head in a mixture of indignation and embarrassment, but also slightly amused. “So you won't tell her until I'm ready to tell her then?” you asked quietly. He nodded.

“I'm a Slytherin, I'm good at keeping secrets,” he told you with a smile.

“Well, I'm a Hufflepuff and I suck at being a loyal friend, so there's that,” you sighed. You felt his free hand on your cheek, his thumb rubbing against your skin.

“You have other redeeming qualities, love,” he said quietly. You scoffed at that and looked away, your eyes wandering through the small room.

With a sudden chuckle you leaned away from him a little to grab one of the cupcakes off a nearby table. “You're right, I love food, that counts for something, right?” you said with a smirk and brought the pastry to your lips, your eyes on him as you let your tongue swipe over the icing.

He watched you with his eyes darkening immediately, and before you knew it, he leaned in and took a big bite of the small cake, his mouth covered in cream and crumbs. But as you laughed at him, he quickly grabbed the back of your neck and brought your mouth to his, sharing his stolen bite with you. You gasped and giggled, showering his face with frantic pecks until the last crumb was gone, before you deepened the kiss, tasting the rest of the sweet in his mouth.

You breathed loudly against each other, quickly lost in the sensation of the other's lips once more, and when the half-eaten cupcake fell from your hand, you couldn't care less. Maybe you didn't love food as much as you thought, maybe you liked kissing boys more, especially the forbidden kind.

[ ← Chapter 1 ] -- [ → Chapter 3 ]

End notes: Two snogging scenes in one chapter because the last one was just a teaser. I believe we are past the awkward introduction phase and now the smut can commence, I hope.

So I do feel bad for poor little Adelaide, I gotta admit, so much gaslighting and betrayal, she deserves better! But we need the drama! And it had to be her. Sorry.

@sallowslady (and anyone who'd like to contribute): I'd love some suggestions for future drama, like close run-ins, awkward snogging locations, how to deal with Adelaide, etc. - please? :D

MASTERLIST - AO3

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfic #sebastian sallow x reader #reader insert #adelaide oakes #hufflepuff #slytherin #slytherpuff #slytherin x hufflepuff #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanfic #drama #angst #fluff #a tiny little bit of smut

[onlyjaeyun]

Jake just coming home and taking his frustration out on you! But also wanting to be sweet with his words!

deepest sigh, he's just so soft and calm, gentle and sweet with you, the simple thought of being too rough with you shatters his heart. yet – after a particularly difficult day at work where just nothing seemed to work and everyone had it out for him, jaeyun can't stop himself from digging his fingers a little harder into your hips as he thrusts his cock into your cute cunt, losing himself in the sweet feeling of your walls hugging his length with just the right amount of pressure. he hears your sweet whimpers, your light sobs and moans of his name, begging for him to just please make you cum again, which he is more than happy to do. "my good girl", his voice is so hoarse and deep, anger and frustration lingering in his tone and matching the steady rhythm of his hips and harshness of his thrusts, yet nowhere near the sweetness of his words. "gonna take what i give yiu, right? my baby's always so fucking good for me, takes everything like the pretty angel she is", his praise makes your head spin to the point where not a single proper thought is left in your brain and all you can mumble is nonsense, your jaw slacking and tongue rolling out from how fucked out you feel. "not yet, angel girl, am by far not finished with you", this time jaeyun reaches for your throat, wraps his pretty fingers around it and gently pulls you up, "my perfect little doll."

#; angel boy #enhypen smut #onlyjaeyun #; drabbles #cant go to sleep without writing a tiny bit about my baby boy

[icarus-star]

omg!! charlie would get sooo shy whenever u call him nicknames like ughh, callin him baby, or sweetheart or whatever. he would not believe it!! no matter how many times u say it!!

#i'm a tiny bit high #also sleepy #waaazzzaaaappp #charlie walker #scream 4 #i ❤ rory culkin #rory culkin #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin smut

[stormkobra-5]

*shaking*

Oh my fucking god.

Guys.

He fucking knows.

Edit:

WAIT DOES THIS IMPLY HE HAS FUCKING GOOGLED HIMSELF AND READ SOME OH MY GOD—

#aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH #Mr. Estrada please forgive us #istg i only did it because #well you’re fucking hot #i literally have no shame #just fear #and a tiny bit of shame #maybe i’d have shame if i ever heard an interview #and somebody showed him examples of fanfiction #and ‘boxing badass’ popped up #i would just cease to be i would DIE #i wouldn’t even be too worried about my other fanfics #it’s the SMUT. #why am i just now hearing of this #am i the last one to hear of this??? #oscar isaac #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #poe dameron #star wars #oscar isaac hernandez estrada #kane (annihilation) #annihilation (2018) #i mean he does say it’s sexy tho #does #does that give us PERMISSION?????? #kinda like us calling him ‘daddy’???????

[l3viat8an]

!!! 18+ brain rot !!!

Imagine instead of the other brothers being annoyed hearing your moans when you have sexy time with your favorite brother, they’re all listening from there own secluded areas of the house jerking off to how well you moan while you’re getting fucked

I’ll see myself out now-

Wait come back!!- this is such a yesyes idea!!

Even if he can’t feel you in the moment, his body reacts as soon as he hears you, you’ve voice and moans are enough and he’s hard faster then he’d like to admit and really…..it’s all your fault….now he’s jerking off alone-

#tiny bit different but the whole idea is so- yummy~ #ro rambles #obey me! #obey me #obmswd #om! #obey me x reader #obmswd x reader #om! x reader #obey me smut #obmswd smut #om! smut

[sonofthedunes]

idea: luke thinks he has a normal-sized dick because he thinks he has normal-sized hands.

he's very wrong about both.

anon, i do not say this lightly: you are a genius.

from the moment teenage luke starts realizing that very…interesting things happen down there when he thinks about girls, and does what adolescent boys all over the galaxy do about it, he never considers that there’s anything unusual about his equipment. he’s far too shy to bring it up to another guy (even biggs), and there are only about 2 dozen girls his age on tatooine and none of them give a fuck about him. so luke enters the rebellion blissfully unaware of his…advantages.

until he meets a cute, nice girl in the rank and file who actually gives him the time of day, and the relationship progresses as relationships often do. on the fateful night he sneaks into her bunk to cast away his virginity (something she hasn’t had in quite some time), she blushes mightily when his hands span her waist; luke takes only the briefest notice of how much area he’s covering. and then he pulls down his pants, out it springs-

he’s completely bewildered as her face drains of color and her voice quivers “holy shit.”

and that is the moment luke skywalker learns both his hands and his dick could put those of most men in the alliance to shame.

#ask #luke skywalker #truthfully i don’t headcanon his dick as being HUGE? it’s a perfectly acceptable length and girth. MAYBE a tiny bit above average #but it’s always fun to consider otherwise #luke skywalker smut #luke skywalker x reader #luke skywalker x y/n

[branchifr]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/35400871/chapters/88238533

Absolutely despise this fic. Its nothing to me. Never hated reading something so much before.i hope the author burns in hell. I fucking hate it. Disgusting. (very loud incorrect buzzing)

Also some theories (wouldnt call it exactly theories) abt the chapters, so i recommend not reading them if u don't want to get spoilers. Yeah.

One pic didn't fit so ill gonna post it in next blog yay!

#this fic is everything to me #i still stand by breek being nothing to me #please believe me #even i dont believe myself so yall have to #trolls #dreamworks trolls #trolls fandom #trolls band together #trolls branch #trolls creek #trolls breek #gay #queer #twink #angst #fluff #tiny tiny bit of smut #nine out of ten tbh

[sunshinebingo]

This took me an embarrassingly long time to write but I finally did it. This fic is a gift to @headcanonheadcase who was one of the first writers that made me fall in love with fanfiction. And is also the one who opened my eyes to the wonders of Gwyn/Ithan. @headcanonheadcase dear, what you do for this fandom (and all the others you write for) is incredible. You are amazing!!

CRACKSHIP ALERT

Pairing: Gwyneth Berdara/Ithan Holstrom Synopsis: Ithan remembers the important events in his relationship with his red wolf, Gwyn, from how it started to where they are now. A recollection of little moments that they shared together. Word Count: 5.7k Warning: A tiny bit of smut

Important A/N: I started writing this waaay before hofas was released so this fic does not follow any canon event past HoSaB. It's not a 'hofas canon-divergence', it's just me posting a crackship fanfic after having it in my drafts for half a year.

Read on Ao3 or proceed below the cut for a snippet

Day 8

“I’m Gwyneth. Gwyn. It’s very nice to meet you,” she shook the hand that he had extended to her after introducing himself. Ithan thanked all the Gods above that he had not gaped at her again like a fool. He had been bracing himself for a conversation with her since he caught a glimpse of her bright hair as she was entering the Prime’s office.

“So, you are new here?” he asked as though he had not already secretly asked everyone at the Den for information about her. He had learned that Gwyneth had just arrived in Lunathion with the intention of settling here. Her grandparents were apparently related to the Prime himself. What had struck Ithan the most had been learning that she was a lone wolf, just like he had been before, even if he was now the only wolf in his pack consisting of an angel, some Fae, a mer, a deer shifter and even a dragon and some fire sprites.

“I am. I live near the Old Square, a few blocks away from the White Raven.”

“Really?” he replied a bit too excitedly before clearing his voice and continuing more calmly. “I mean, I live near the Old Square too.”

The smile that spread on her face could have rivaled the sun ahead. “That’s great. Um… maybe we’ll cross path someday. I mean…” she rambled. Was she nervous too? Ithan thought.

“Not that we aren’t already crossing paths at the Den already,” she added with a laugh while indicating the building behind them.

Ithan noticed the way that she was twisting a strand of hair between her fingers and how she could not stand still. She was nervous too. Somehow, that made him a little less tense.

He has admitted to Gwyn, months and months later, that their encounter on that day had not been accidental at all. He had confessed that he might have forsaken more urgent matters to wait until she would leave the Prime’s office. The tongue-lashing he had gotten from his roommates for being late for what they had planned later that day had been totally worth it.

***

Day 10

“Hello there,” a melodious voice drawled behind him. Ithan turned on the stool he was sitting on at the bar of the White Raven to find Gwyn smiling at him.

If he was not already seated, his first look at her would have made him fall on his ass. Gwyn was glowing in a green velvet dress that clung to her and accentuated all the dips and curves of her body. The makeup she had dusted on her eyelids sparkled beneath the flashing lights of the club, making it impossible not to look at her eyes.

“You look…” damn him and his habit of being speechless in her presence. “You are…” he tried and failed again.

Gwyn erupted in laughter at his flustered state. “I think I will take that as a compliment,” she said as she sat on the empty stool beside him.

“Sorry,” Ithan shook his head, “You are stunning.” Phew. See? That wasn’t so hard to say, he thought.

Gwyn’s cheeks started to flush and Ithan was momentarily mesmerised by the way it made her freckles stand out. “Thank you. And you are very handsome as well.”

Ithan was certain that the heat spreading across his face was close to turning him as red as her hair. Gwyn ordered three drinks and turned back to him.

‘’They’re not all for me,’’ she explained when she noticed his raised eyebrows. She pointed at a blond Fae and a brunette angel on the dance floor. ‘’I came with my sisters.’’

His face must have given away his puzzlement concerning her odd family because Gwyn snorted then proceeded to tell him about her chosen sisters.

A drink was placed in front of him. But instead of making his way towards his table where his own found family was, Ithan stayed at the bar, chatting with Gwyn over the loud music. Either her sisters had forgotten about their drinks, or they did not want to cut their conversation short because, as they talked and talked, Gwyn ended up drinking all three cocktails she had ordered while Ithan kept ordering more for himself. He only took note of the time when he turned around at some point and found that all those he had come with were already gone.

That night, Ithan had talked more than he ever had with anyone else in his entire life. He remembers vividly how she had been the only thing on his mind when he was staring at his ceiling before he fell asleep in the early morning. He had a crush on Gwyn. One that went from little to massive in a matter of one training session with the Aux.

***

#Gwynthan #gwyneth berdara #ithan holstrom #gwyn x ithan #acotar #crescent city #crackship #it's mostly fluff #tiny bit of smut #tiny bit of angst

[captainblou]

Undercover

A collaborative fanfiction between myself & @eybefioro

READ ON AO3

Welcome to our no-pressure/no-deadline/no-plot smut fest!! In which we throw every single idea we ever had, with a plot that fits on a napkin (and some more because our stubborn writer's mind decided to plot anyway). This fic is the product of a collaboration between two unhinged minds sharing one filthy brain cell, and is written like this: Every change of POV is a change of writer, with very little communication between the two of us – we have to go with whatever the other throws at us! This leads to unexpected developments that are both tasty and fun (we hope you’ll think so too). This is an ongoing project that we’ll be carrying on as long as we feel like, and as long as we have ideas. As a result the tags are likely to evolve with every new chapter, and we will add content warnings in the notes at the end of each chapter! Chapters will be mostly independent, so you’ll be able to skip one if the tags are not your cup of tea, because as one says: to each his own. We hope you have as much fun reading as we had writing this, please leave comments to tell us what you think!! Love, Eybe & Blou

Summary:

After Aziraphale becomes the Supreme Archangel, Crowley is appointed as Prince of Hell. Some may think they aren't talking, but that's only true when they're busy with more pressing activities. (A collection of sexy times between our favorite angel and demon, trapped in an office hell/heaven scape, where the second coming that matters is not the Jesus one)

FEEL FREE TO YELL AT US IN THE COMMENTS AND ON TUMBLR!!

Thank you bestie @crowleys-bentley-and-plants for betaing this chapter 💛

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #fanfiction #undercover smut fest #Rated E #First chapter #CaptainBlou #EybeFioro #good omens fanfiction #smut #but also: feelings and angst and a tiny bit of plot