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princessbrunette · 1 month

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NEVER LOSE ME ♡

♪ flo milli — never lose me ♪

TELL ME YOU DONT NEVER WANNA LOSE ME!

pairing: rafe cameron + bunny!reader જ⁀➴₊⊹ ♡

synopsis: being in a relationship with rafe, things are always easy on you and your bunny brain. until they’re not.

cw: butt stuff, violence, blood, alcohol mentions, reader is kind of a bimbo, kind of dumbification? mean!rafe, canon spoilers, shoupe, criminal activity, manipulation/threats, slut shaming, mentions of drugs. the ‘dad’ nickname and daddy kink ♡

Your vanity table was your place of peace.

Pink powder puffs and abused beauty blenders. Shimmery MAC gloss. That one blush pallette with the rabbit engraving that was too pretty to use. When you were sat at that table, everything was okay. You were in girl world, with glitter particles floating like fairies in the air around you and that one lipstick swatch on the back of your hand. It was easy to lose time, there were just so many important decisions to make. What lipliner with what gloss? Are you doing glitter in your inner corners today or not? Probably yes, there was never a wrong time for glitter. However it was only the country club you were visiting, and you were meant to be there twenty-five minutes ago. Being a girl is hard.

The country club was where you and Rafe had locked eyes for the first time. You remember it so clearly, not so much like a fairytale but more so like a sexy 2000s movie where the hot people end up together. You were new to the neighbourhood, a pretty young thing wandering into the Kook club with nothing but a shoulder bag and a skirt that clung to your ass cheeks.

Rafe did a double take when he first saw you, the sort they do in cartoons. You were the first girl he’d seen that dressed skimpy and yet still looked expensive, all dressed in virginal white with endless amounts of skin on display. He’d licked his lips, squinting across the golf course as he aimlessly swung his club in circles, tuning out of whatever-the-fuck it was Topper was complaining about this week. At first, for a few seconds anyway — he didn’t know if he wanted you or hated you for walking in here looking like that, knowing you’d be the talk of the town and the visage behind every guy at the country clubs wet dreams. You’d looked back at him and nervously bit at your manicured finger nail, offering a demure smile. There was something unsure and innocent about you, which confirmed how he felt — if his dick jumping in his pants wasn’t enough. He had to have you.

He vowed to get to know you, force his way into your life — and that’s exactly what he did. He would have felt like a creep, eyeing you from across the bar and asking everyone he could what they knew about the new girl — if you didn’t make it so apparent you were doing the same. You made friends quickly with that bubbly, ditsy, happy-go-lucky attitude of yours— and were soon to sit at the tables outside overlooking the golf course in clusters, whispering through cupped palms and giggles when Rafe and his crew would pass by. He’d act all nonchalant at first, but as he chews at his gum obnoxiously, he couldn’t stop the smirk from curling his lips up. Even his friends would shove at his shoulders excitably. This shit is so high school, he’d think. It was time to make a move.

And so he did — he made sure everyone saw too. Pulling up in his truck out the front of the club, graciously turning down the Future song booming from the speakers to wind his window down and lean out of it with that million-dollar Cameron-man smile. “You leavin’ here by yourself? Look, let me drive you, ‘kay? Been meaning to talk to you anyway, beautiful.”

He’d made sure everyone saw you climbing into the passenger seat of his car. Rafe and the new girl. If Rafe had swooped on her, she was pretty much off the market. Word spread fast, and you were his before he’d even asked you to be. Things took off fast, and with Rafes status came your own. You were untouchable, unpunishable, Kildares sweetheart. A mystery to some. Where did she come from? Is it true X tried to take a shot at her? Everyone knows she’s Rafe Cameron’s girl.

The rest is history — dates, excessive spoiling, meeting The famous Ward Cameron, Rafe breaking that virgin cunt in the same night. Things moved at the perfect pace and you couldn’t be happier. Rafe just made life so easy for you, to the point where around him — you were completely on auto pilot, letting your boyfriend do all the thinking. You figured that’s where you earned your nickname and likeness. A bunny, he’d always compare you to.

Whilst you had this Marylin Monroe sort of allure about you that never failed to draw him in, you were wide eyed and innocent like a bunny rabbit. That, and the way you bounced on his cock, and lest he forget the way your nose twitches when you’re upset. Those were recognised as bunny-like tendencies, so for Rafe — the designer shoe just seemed to fit. You sigh, reminiscing on when Rafe had pushed that bunny tail plug into your ass for the first time as you walk through the gates to the County club. Clearly, you were in a mood today.

“People are lookin’ at me.” You giggle with your cheek to his chest once you find him, careful not to smear your blush on the delicate fabric of his polo once more.

“Maybe it’s ‘cos they can practically see your tail stickin’ out the bottom of your skirt. Pull that shit down, would you?” He complains, but does it for you all the same— ringed hands sliding round down your ass to yank the material down enough for him to be satisfied. You let him, enjoying the feeling of his coarse hands on you— knowing the material was only due to slide right back up as soon as you take a few steps.

The sun burns bright that day, and as Topper approaches the two of you on the grassy hill of the golf course— he holds his golfing glove above his eyes as a makeshift protection from the sun. He wears that expression that’s 90% teeth, smiling as he slides over. “And will I be seeing this lovely lady at the party down at Crystals tonight?”

“A party?” Your back straightens in excitement, neck craning to look up at your boyfriend, who’s jaw tightened at his friend.

“I’m there on business, remember Top?” He blinks a couple of times like he was trying to send a message telepathically, and Toppers face falls a little. Your boyfriend looks to your hopeful expression, sighing a little exasperatedly. “Gonna be there for like an hour. Max. Just pushin’ product, baby. Shits boring.” He waves you off and your brows furrow, following him when he peels away to line up his ball.

“But I like parties! What product Rafey?” You mewl, laying a gentle hand on his playing arm, making him briefly stuff his tongue between his lips to concentrate extra hard. He looks around for listeners before turning his attention back to you.

“Got some yayo on me. ‘Kay? Gonna make us a shit tonne of money.”

You furrow your brows. You couldn’t remember which drug ‘yayo’ was, and you wasn’t even aware of the fact he was selling again. He said he was stopping all that, but as he constantly drilled into your head — you supposed Rafe knew best. It wasn’t your business, and wasn’t anything you had to worry about. Truthfully, you cared more about putting together an outfit to wear to the mentioned party in question.

“Can I still come? I wanna come.” You bounce on your glittery sandals with a ditsy smile, the action making your tits jostle in your little top. Perhaps that was what convinced him, the boy squinting thoughtfully out across the golf course.

“Aaah…” He stresses quietly, lifting his arm to scratch the clammy skin of his forehead beneath his floppy bangs.

“Please dad, won’t get in the way.” You pout, standing on your tiptoes pleadingly. Topper coughs awkwardly at the nickname, still standing near by, rifling through his clubs. Rafe licks his lips before rolling his eyes.

“Alright, okay. But no gettin’ involved, a’ight? Got a little chatty with my customers last time. No more of that, got it?” He warns, throwing you a look over his shoulder as he begins to stance up, gesturing for you to move back so he wouldn’t hit you with his club.

Truthfully, Rafe didn’t like bringing you to parties. As much as he loved parading you around, he knew what he was like — and seeing tens of guys ogling what rightfully belonged to him got tiring. Especially when you were so oblivious, bouncing around pool parties with your tits nearly escaping your bikini, or dancing with your friends to the point of your skirt flipping up — giving everyone a show. He knows you didn’t mean it, you were ditsy as it was so with alcohol added you were a complete loose cannon. However, with each sip he’d take— his rage would only grow, always having to deal with your pouting when he’d make the two of you leave early so he didn’t pummel someone’s face in.

Plus, he was trying to mature now. Step into his father’s shoes. He didn’t even like partying at all the way he used to— it was strictly business now. An in and out job. Was harder to do that with you there.

You always forgot how well loved Rafe Cameron was until he brings you along to a function. His hand staying glued to the small of your back as he walks you through, heads turning — his name being called from all angles like he’s a celebrity. It made you snuggle up harder to his side, which he was alright with — he had no problem being extra touchy with you tonight whilst you wore that baby pink IAMGIA Demie set like you were doing it a favour. It shows more skin than Rafe was okay with people that weren’t him seeing, but he’d be with you all night, so he assumed it would be fine.

You fiddle nervously with the diamanté Hello Kitty sat on your chest when your boyfriend started to pull out the small bags with white powder inside. You didn’t quite understand the whole drug thing, but you knew for a fact you wasn’t the biggest fan of the way people acted when they were on it. They were loud, too grabby, scary. You push your cheek against Rafes side as people swarm him, asking for his supply. He’s cool and calm as ever, smirking in that way that made you want him all to himself.

“No hogging my shit this time a’ight? You get what you pay for.” He drawls playfully to the crowd, his hand thoughtlessly sliding to your waist to drag you gently out the way of the group that was forming near him. He turns his body a little, leaning down to your ear. “Wouldn’t mind grabbing me a beer would you baby? Got big boy business to attend to.”

You swan off to complete this task in a bit of a haze, you always got sort of dazed when you were with Rafe— mostly because being with him meant you got to switch your brain off and have him do all the thinking for you. It was a blessing and a curse, because now it’s been an hour and you forgot all about getting Rafe his drink, having found some friends to take some shots with instead.

You’re warm, stumbling giddily away from where everyone else is dancing as you approach the drinks table, pondering another. As you feel a presence appear up by your side, you tug your top up thoughtlessly, humming as you rub your glossy lips together. The strangers eyes fall to your little get-up, lip clamped beneath his top set of straight white teeth like a predator.

“I really love that little outfit. Looks great on you.” He calls out, with a friendly voice matching a friendly smile. It captures your attention and you whip your head to him, earrings jangling from the movement. You take the chance to look down at your ensemble before raising your glassy gaze up to him, ends of your lashes kissing your eyebrows.

“Oh my gosh, thank you!” You grin, wiping your clammy hands on the ruffle of your skirt. It was a compliment, sure — but in the back of your mind you surveyed the situation and he truly seemed like he liked the outfit, and didn’t seem creepy at all. He’s polite, keeps his gaze respectful (until you turn away, and he can catch a glimpse at your cleavage.) and friendly. You exchange names, before he ensues with the conversation.

“So where’s your friends? Left you all by yourself?” He reaches forward, pulling a piece of rogue fluff from your hair, chuckling adoringly at your carelessness as he tosses it aside. You spin around to where they previously were, met with no familiar faces and an empty space. You frown, glossy bottom lip sticking out when you turn back to him. Of course, it’s adorable.

Too adorable, thinks your boyfriend who watches you from across the room. He’s tightly clutching his own beer, stood chatting with his friends as he observes the situation — losing interest in the surrounding conversation all together. It had been an hour since he’d last seen you, and now here you were — parallel to him with some guy in your ear, making you laugh, fluttering those eyelashes like you always did. He ticks his jaw, tongue in his cheek as he stares you down. Waiting for you to come running over all guilty, ready to fawn over him.

The guy is suggesting your friends disappeared upstairs, perhaps a bathroom, a bedroom — anywhere he can get you alone to eventually work you out of your panties. You’re totally oblivious to it, shaking your head — having a reason against each of his suggestions. It’s frustrating, the way you won’t take the hint— but also the whole ‘bimbo’ thing was kind of doing it for him, unable to work out if you were a total slut or a total virgin, those doe eyes and innocent aura contrasting too heavily on the way your tits practically spill out of your top for either to give him a clear conclusion.

Rafe is mildly irritated, watching the way you bounce with each move you make— one wrong pose from your ass cheeks spilling from the bottom of your skirt. He keeps a watchful eye, until finally — your dopey expression meets his and your face lights up, traipsing over. Much to the Cameron’s surprise— you audaciously loop your arm around the guys bicep, dragging him with you.

“Rafey! Hi! Sorry about your drink, I forgot all about it.” You blink up at him, happy as a clam as you free your arms to affectionately stroke at his chest. He nods, lips parted as his eyes flicker over to the guy at your side— who’s face is slowly dropping in realisation.

“Yeah.” He responds, and doesn’t get to say much else because you’re dropping this sucker in it.

“This is my new friend! He’s helping me find my girls ‘cos I lost them.” You pout, and Rafe’s lip curls up into a smirk— gaze now completely fixated on the stranger.

“Friends huh? You uh, you makin’ friends with my girl, man?” He smiles, but it’s malicious— taking a step forward causing you to move aside. Your brows furrow, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, especially when Rafes two Kook attack dogs, Topper and Kelce tune into the conversation, which attracted even more eyes.

“I didn’t know, dude.” The boy seems to have lost all his confidence from before, shrinking several sizes as your tall boyfriend closes in on him.

“Ah, he didn’t know.” Rafe shrugs theatrically before turning to his friends— smarmy smiles on both of their faces at the interaction. “Guys he didn’t know.”

“Come on, man.” The stranger seems uncomfortable with the amount of attention the scene is already creating, more and more heads turning by the moment. You fiddle with your necklace again, twirling the thin chain around a manicured finger as you watch— unsure just what was happening. Your boyfriend claps a seemingly friendly hand onto the man’s shoulder, holding him tightly.

“Nah, man— tell me. You usually walk around at parties… alone… making friends with drunk chicks? That’s uh, yeah that’s a little weird man.” Rafe laughs, so naturally everyone laughs. It’s clear your boyfriend is set on humiliating this guy for talking to you, and you’re not quite sure how you feel about it.

“Maybe you shouldn’t let your girl walk around dressed like a hooker if you don’t want guys—” The boy doesn’t get to finish his sentence, because in a moments notice — Rafe has swung his fist back and pummelled it into his face, hard. A crowd forms, and you nearly get shoved out the way by the sudden rush of jeering, drunk party goers. You gasp, watching the way Rafe straddles his squirming body, a meek attempt at fighting back.

“What was that? You wanna say that shit again, huh? Huh?” Rafe continues to beat on the guy who insult you, teeth grit, jaw tense. The victim attempts to push Rafe off, but Rafe pins him again — bigger and stronger by a mile. This only seems to anger him more, and you watch as Rafe wraps two hands around the guys neck, holding down until his face turned pink.

That’s when you notice that Topper and Kelce aren’t smiling anymore, instead pushing through the crowd suddenly to grab a hold of their friend, yanking him off the man on the ground. Rafe only shrugs them off once before letting them drag him away.

“Yeah? Yeah? Maybe you’ll think next time you try ‘n make some fuckin’ friends, bitch.” He spits as his farewell, before shaking free of his friends and grabbing a hold of your upper arm, all but hauling you out of that party at a speed and strength to where you were certain your feet were barely touching the ground.

The drive home is silent, and only then you start to realise that you might be in trouble too. You didn’t like when Rafe got like this, mad and scary. His temper was no surprise to you, he was always storming around with a sour look on his face, or slamming doors after the daily argument he’d hash out with Ward. All of these examples seemed like mild irritation in comparison to the rage you saw him succumb to only moments prior. He had this look in his eye when his hands were around that man’s neck, his pupil overtaking his iris. It was like he really didn’t mind hurting this guy real bad, and you wondered what would have happened if no one stopped him. Usually, for the most part he kept his anger relatively far from you. Now, with just the two of you alone— you were facing it head on.

The car is even more silent once he puts it in park on the Tannyhill drive. Both of his hands are on the steering wheel, knuckles split and bloody still from his attack, and you notice a speck of blood that didn’t belong to him on Rafes cheek, making you pout— fighting the urge to reach out and brush it away. Instead you stare, waiting for him to speak.

“You know, you — you really gotta be more careful with who you make friends with, baby. Look at this shit I… I had to beat his ass because of you bein’ too friendly. Me. I had to handle shit.” He bites, and you sink back into the seat, ashamed and upset. Perhaps he was right, maybe you did need to keep your wits about you more.

“Oh…” Is all you manage, sad and whiny like a kicked puppy. He licks his lips, shaking his head and finally turning his body to face you.

“What did I say about making friends with guys? Huh? Tell me what I said.” He tilts his head, blinking at you with wide impatient eyes as he waits for an answer. You suck in a shaky breath, wracking your brain for the last time you’d had this conversation.

“Um… I don’t—” You swallow thickly but it’s cut off by your boyfriend grabbing your jaw, forcing you to look at him. As if he’d hit some kind of panic button, two fat tears roll down your cheeks, bottom lip wobbling.

“What did I say?” He raises his voice and you let out a sad sob, sniffling as you try to compose yourself— speaking as clearly as you can.

“You— you said— any guy that approaches me doesn’t wanna be friends. He just…” You sniffle.

“He just what? Go on, finish that shit.”

“He just wants to fuck me.” You cry and he nods, letting go of your face to push his floppy, slightly sweaty bangs away from his face, puffing out a breath through his mouth.

“Get your ass inside.” He mutters, and you’re quick to do so, hopping up out your seat and to the front door, fumbling for your obnoxious keychains in your shoulder bag.

He follows closely once you’re by the door, oddly gentle hands on your waist from behind that guide you all the way to the stair case, giving your ass a pat as he sends you off to his room. You’re standing pathetically when he enters a moment or so after you.

You clasp your hands at your front, the picture of innocence. You weren’t crying anymore, but still looking devastated by Rafes unfortunate mood. He approaches you, looming over you with an unreadable expression and you yearned to reach out and touch the warmth of his skin through his shirt, or to kiss his naturally flushed lips— but you wanted to be a good girl for him. Make things right.

“Y’know the polite thing to do is apologise, sweetheart.” He drawls and you nod vigorously, words taking a moment to find you.

“M’sorry daddy! Really didn’t mean—”

“Actions…” He cuts you off, eyes fluttering. He places two hands on your bare shoulders. “Speak louder than words. Understand?”

“Huh?” You pout, and he presses on your shoulders just a little.

“You know what to do. On your knees.” One hand leaves you, beginning to work at his belt making you have a Pavlovian-like reaction, mouth filling with drool. You realise you’re just staring and he blinks at you. “What are you waiting for, huh? Now, please.”

You quietly drop, shuffling to get as comfortable as possible and begin eagerly fumbling to help with his belt, blinking up at him with wet doe eyes. You were surprised to see that your boyfriend was already hard — not just a halfie as things begin, fully hard. Maybe something to do with the adrenaline, maybe he thought you were sexy when you cried— who knew.

His pants drop to his ankles and he widens his stance a little, licking over his sore lips and softly grasping the back of your head, easing you closer to press kisses to his covered cock. Your need to please got the better of you and you impatiently tugged off his boxers too, starting to leave a trail of glossy pink kiss prints all over him as you let out your own moan of relief.

You were thrilled he was letting you do this. You didn’t like arguing, never able to think of the right words and always crying too much just like a baby. You couldn’t stay cross with Rafe, you simply loved him too much — so you were happy to skip all the hard parts and head straight to the end, where you got to make it all better and earn his forgiveness. Rafe was always happy after you gave him head, especially when you worked super hard, giving him plenty of attention where he needs it. You couldn’t wait to watch him relax.

It wasn’t long before you had the tip of his cock bruising your throat, spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth when you gag around him, trying your very best to get him to cum. It seemed he was close, letting out quiet groans and even stroking your cheeks with his thumbs soothingly which was your favourite thing he did. Your nose twitches, sore and watery as you pull back once more — gazing up at him with gloopy eyelashes and flooded eyes, all sweetly, searching for his approval. He gives you a lazy smile and it’s enough to encourage you to head back down to take him as deep as he’ll go.

You clutch his balls and massage as you deep throat him once more, and this time — the burning of your mascara infiltrating your eyes gets too much to handle and you close them, squeezing them tight as you pull back ever so slightly to work your tongue over his shaft. You’re met with a light slap on the jaw, causing your eyes to spring open— staring up all wide like you’d been caught with a hand in the cookie jar instead of wrapping round his ballsack.

“Open your eyes, yeah— fuckin’ look at me. Good girl.” He grits his teeth, and you know he must be close. You keep sucking until he’s milked dry, Rafes pretty bunny and her favourite carrot — swallowing every drop he had to offer.

All is forgiven, and the incident is forgotten about within a few weeks. It was a hectic time, Rafe barely having the time to bring up something that seemed so menial whilst dealing with the death of his father and the feud between his sister and the ‘pogues’ he always seemed to complain about. Rafe seemed to believe there was something gold that he was owed, a cross or something like that. You wasn’t sure. You’d only picked up enough information through overhearing phone calls to his old dealer Barry, in which he’d promptly close the door to obstruct your thoughtless eavesdropping when he’d realise you might be listening.

He seemed to have moved on very quickly from his father’s demise. Oddly enough, his grieving period only seemed to last a few days. You didnt press him on it, it didn’t feel right to do so. You’d learnt from some reality TV show about rich housewives that sometimes when someone loses a person close to them, they don’t even act that sad at all because they don’t want to deal with the big feelings. You wondered if that’s how Rafe was feeling. However, you couldn’t help but also wonder if your boyfriend was in a way relieved to finally be the man of the house. Maybe that’s why he’d started wearing some of Ward’s clothes, demanding you call him ‘dad’ more often.

♪ ‘WHEN I SUCK IT I LOOK IN YOUR EYES

YOU BETTER FUCK ME LIKE YOU MEAN IT!’ ♪

You hum along happily the song you’d grown so fond of playing from the AUX of Rafes truck. Saturday, your favourite day of the week. Your boyfriend had been doing a lot of stuff, lately. Going to a lot of places without you. There was something secretive about the way he’d disappear into his father’s office with Barry, ‘handling business’ for hours and hours on end. Again, it became clear that all of this kerfuffle was clearly about the mysterious gold you’d hear about. Honestly, you didn’t care to ask questions. The only gold you cared about was the glitzy gold chain delicately wrapped around your ankle, a sparkling ‘RC’ pendant dangling off it, Rafes initials. You stretch your leg out in the car, admiring the way it hangs off your smooth limb.

He could spend all week handling business and getting shit done, but Saturdays? They were your days. Days and nights spent out together, always winding up back at your place where he’d stay round. You always had a free house at the weekends, so what better way to spend it than wailing into a pillow with your boyfriend balls deep inside of you?

The journey is cut short when Rafe slowly pulls up outside your house, putting it in park and yet making no move to even remove his seatbelt. You look out the window at the familiar setting before whipping round to look at him in confusion, batting your fluffy eyelashes.

“I’m… afraid you’re gonna be on your own tonight, bun.” He scratches his cheek, a guilty habit you were usually too flustered to pick up on.

“Huh?” You mewl, brows furrowing, body sinking down into the seat in refusal. “But… it’s Saturday. Did you forget, silly?” You pout, your words doing nothing to convince either of you that he had simply forgotten.

“I’ve got business to handle tonight. Really important stuff that you cannot get involved in. Okay? Need you to be at home, and stay out of it alright?” He’s serious, wide eyed and speaking slowly to ensure not a drop of information slips away from you as you blink at him all lost and sweet. He didn’t like disappointing you, and sure — he would rather spend his evening with his dick nestled in your wet warmth, but this was something that had to be done— whatever it was.

“But Rafe—” You go to protest, but he cuts you off with a firm hand on your jaw stopping your speech all together.

“Alright?” He searches your eyes for confirmation. The way he grabbed you reminded you of the time he was mad at you, and if he was really going to leave you lonely tonight — you figured it was best you leave things on a positive note and behave yourself. You blink sulkily at him and nod.

“Yes, dad.” You sigh out your nose and his expression softens, nodding in approval with a small smile.

“Thats my good girl.” He uses his grip on your jaw to pull you in, delivering a sloppy kiss to your lips and even rewarding you with the wet warm muscle of his tongue rolling over yours a few times for good measure — yet pulling away before you got too needy, because then he knew you’d never let him leave.

You’ll admit, you started to huff and puff once you’d left his side. It was Saturday, your Saturday — and maybe you were spoiled, but going out for brunch with your boyfriend and then having him drop you home was not nearly enough to satisfy your needs, especially after he’d been gone so frequently lately. You’d gotten yourself into quite a mood, nearly stomping right past the package that had arrived through your door.

You tear it open, alone in your house and for a brief moment your face lights up — the new butt plug Rafe had purchased for you online after you’d begged and begged sat in the cardboard box. Much like your other one, it was a bunnies tail— but instead of pink, the obnoxious puff on the end was fluffy and white, like a real Easter bunny. Your grin melts off your face right back into a sullen pout when you remember that Rafe wasn’t here to help you put it in, or play with it, or tell you how pretty it looks in your ass. You stomp your foot, anklet jangling. This wasn’t fair.

The sun goes down after hours upon hours of boredom, and you try to preoccupy yourself. You redo your hair all pretty, you fix up your makeup, you play dress up in your closet. The new plug is slicked up between your fingers, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth as you ready yourself. You never had to put your own bunny tail in, Rafe was always around to do it for you — have you sprawled over his lap, his hand pulling your cheeks apart and saying “Good job, stop tensing up would you?” You’re squirmy and whiny all alone, upset and petulant about the fact he wasn’t around. You felt… what was the word again? Neglected.

You press your cheek to your pristine bed covers, arching your ass in the air with an arm snaked uncomfortably round yourself, the difficult angle making it hard to push your tail in. You groan at the stretch from the cool metal, pussy drooling as your eyes flutter closed and you imagine your boyfriend doing it all for you, as intended. When it was snugly pressed inside of you, you giggle hazily — waving it in the mirror to get a good view. Pretty, you can almost hear his voice tell you how pretty that tight ass is, and you yearn to hear it in person.

You decided you weren’t going to take no for an answer. Rafe needed you, you knew it — perhaps he’d been isolating himself to deal with his big feelings, and you couldn’t take it any longer. You’d come to the decision that you were going to dress up so sweetly for him, march over there and make him feel all better with the warm embrace that was your cunt— or your mouth, or even your hand. Whatever your man needed, you would deliver.

You slide on some white, lacy lingerie. When you’d purchased it, you’d hoped it would remind him of wedding-wear, planting the idea that he should totally marry you, put a big glittery rock on your finger. Something that signified that he never, ever wanted to lose you. It was bunny-like in nature too, a hole slotted in the panties especially to fit the puff of your bunny tail through it— perfectly cohesive with your whole look. You’re quick to drag on more white, taking the form of a tight crop top and a skirt that unsurprisingly barely covered the fold of your ass cheeks where your thighs begin. In no time, you’re tottering down the street in kitten heels, clutching your purse to your side. You’d decided to walk— and by decided, you meant you didn’t have much choice — bound to being Rafe’s pretty passenger princess, full time.

An all white outfit was innocent, virginal, wedding-like. He couldn’t say no to you like this, surely not— you convince yourself as you stride street to street beneath the lights of street lamps. Kildare was safe, you seemed to think so anyway. Rafe disagreed, said there was lots of stuff you didn’t know— but you’d never seen anything too bad with your own two eyes.

Half way into your journey, your quiet muttering to yourself going over what you’d say when you got to Tannyhill was interrupted by your surroundings suddenly being tainted with a flashing blue and red glow. The rumble of a car pulling up beside you alerts your attention and you whip around to look, being met with the concerned gaze of Shoupe in his Sheriff car.

“Hi officer.” You wave politely.

“Can I ask what you’re doin’ wandering the streets at night by yourself? Not safe to be walkin’ about with next to nothing on, young lady.” He appears stern and your brows furrow, wondering if you’re in trouble. You hadn’t been questioned by a police officer before, they had come sniffing around after Wards death, but Rafe was always there to answer all the tricky questions for you. You whimper like a confused puppy.

“I—I missed my boyfriend so I wanted to go n’see him.” You whine, fists balled nervously at your side. It probably didn’t help that you were already riled up, so this was just immediately too much for you.

Shoupe recognised Rafe Cameron as your boyfriend and his eyebrows raise, purely at the fact that whilst he respected the Cameron family — he couldn’t fathom missing a spoilt brat like that.

“You know I got a niece of my own, about your age — I wouldn’t be lettin’ her walk the streets like this alright? Why don’t you give someone a call? Where are your parents?” He shakes his head, and now you’re super fed up.

“I don’t — am I in trouble? I had to walk because I failed my driving test and— and my parents go away on weekends I— I just miss my boyfriend and I want to go to his house! I don’t understand why you’re asking me stuff—” You start to cry, stomping a mini heel on the ground making the officer sigh, closing his eyes for a moment regretting stopping all together.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys. Don’t get paid enough for this crap.” He mutters to himself before opening his eyes and plastering on a forced smile and leaning his elbow out the open window. “‘Know what? Don’t you worry that head, young lady. Be safe, I’ll let you get on with it.” He waves before pulling out the parking space, leaving you waving him off tearfully— continuing your journey.

You wipe your tears, happy that you’re finally approaching Tannyhill— not long now until you’re back in your boyfriend’s arms. Sure, you were directly disobeying his one rule to stay home and mind your business tonight, but it wouldn’t be the first punishment you’d faced from Rafe — and the thought of having his hands on you in any way was delightful — so you’d be more than happy to pay the price.

Your shoes crunch carefully down the drive, blinking up at the grand historical home before you. You always loved being there. Being at Tannyhill with Rafe made you feel like he was the president and you were his first lady, ruling over Kildare in your very own White House. The fantasy whisks you away for a moment, and it takes you a couple of slow seconds to realise no one has responded to your knock at the front door. You wiggle the handle, and for once — it doesn’t open. You frown. Rafe was home, right?

You hum in confusion, trailing around to each window — looking for any signs of life as you call his name. “Rafey, are you home? It’s me…” You all but whine, growing increasingly more frustrated. Had you really walked all that way in the dark for nothing?

You puff out a dramatic breath, gathering yourself. Take a look around, you command yourself — use your big girl brain for once. Rafes truck was on the drive, and the lights were on in the house — so you figured it was fair to assume he was indeed home. The only thing out of place was the large van parked haphazardly on the drive. It wasn’t unheard of for unknown vehicles to be at Tannyhill. All sorts of people were in and out the gates for transport purposes whenever Ward would find something new and extravagant to auction off— but Ward wasn’t around anymore, and something tickled your curiosity enough to step towards it, questioning what it contained.

The large back doors are left ajar, so nosily you tiptoe over— fingers wrapping around one to pry it open some more, standing on the toes of your kitten heels to look at what would remain inside. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust, and for a few seconds you’re not met with anything of interest. Boxes, crates— nothing extraordinary. Your eyes drop down to the floor of the van, and you freeze. Surely not.

The body of a man lies dormant in a pool of distinctive crimson. He’s frozen up, like he’s scared or had been turned into a statue. His skin is pale, and his eyes are open— unblinking. You hadn’t seen many bad things in your life, hell— Rafe had even put you on a restriction from horror movies because you just couldn’t handle them — but what you were looking at was unmistakable. You were staring at a dead body.

You draw in a shaky gasp, and a heat wave of panic overcomes your body. It begins in your chest, and spreads through you like a virus — to your stomach, and then your arms and legs all the way to frozen stiff fingers and toes. You jerk back, hand flying up to cover your mouth as you stumble back a few steps, fresh hot tears brewing in your waterline. “Oh my g—”

Your whimper is cut short, the sound punched right out of you when you back up into something hard and firm. You jump out of your skin, yelping as what you walked into sprouts arms and whips you around at lightening speed to face it. Rafe, your boyfriend holds you infront of him, enraged. For the first time in your life, he terrifies you. “Told you to stay home, kid.” He spits out before spinning you back around and manhandling you into a lift, arms round tightly around you as he lifts you off the ground.

You go to scream, you even go to run— from your own boyfriend, something even a few moments prior you wouldn’t be able to fathom. He only grips you tighter, and this time covers your mewling mouth with a firm hand as he wrestles you inside, dragging you through the house.

As he tugs your flailing, panicking body up the stairs — you catch sight of Rose who lingers on the stairwell, watching with wide eyes.

“Rafe? Rafe what did she see?” She hisses urgently, alarmed by the way her step-son was handling his girlfriend.

“I’m handlin’ it.” He drawls out, seemingly irritated by her presence as he pushes you down the hallway.

“Don’t hurt her, Rafe.” Hurt her?

He all but launches you into the bedroom and you fly away from him, on the verge of hyperventilation. You paw at your eyes, wiping away the tears as you sniffle watching his every move. He moves slower now, locking the door which causes your heartrate to spike once more.

“Why the hell are you here?” He blinks at you irritably. “Huh? After I specifically told you to stay home.”

“I missed you.” You cough out a wet sob, trying to gather your thoughts enough to ask the valuable questions. Like, what was going on? Who was the dead body?

“You missed m— so we’re just… disregarding my rules now. The — the shit I tell you to keep you safe? Keep you out of allllll the dirty work I gotta do to keep shit afloat?” He’s mad, squinting and shaking his head.

“Did you kill that man?” You raise your voice ever so slightly, coming right out with it. The forwardness shocks you, but Rafes expression simply flattens, shoulders dropping a little before he sighs, shaking his head with his hands on his hips.

“No, I didn’t.” He makes a point to emphasise the ‘I’, which only reels you off into more confusion. “But… it’s my problem now. A’ight? So — so I gotta step up and handle it alright, look at — hey, look at me baby— okay, I’m a proactive person — I — I was handed a problem, and now I’m fixin’ it. Me. You understand that?” He’s walked right over to you now, and you’ve backed up away until your legs hit his bed causing you to sit down with a bounce. He crouches over you as he rambles, a hand on your shoulder to keep your attention. He has thrown a lot of information your way, and you try to follow along — eyes wide and head shaking slightly in response.

“Rafe— you’re scaring me. That person was dead you — you have to tell the police! I saw Shoupe on the way here, even talked to him — why — why don’t you just call him up n’tell him?” You whimper, breath catching in your throat between every couple of words.

Your boyfriend stands up straight suddenly, blinking like he’d been snapped out of his wide, watery eyed trance.

“You— you saw— what do you mean you saw Shoupe on the way here?” He glares and you shrink, feeling like you’ve done something wrong but not quite knowing what.

“He stopped me on the way here n’I told him I was comin’ to see you.” You pout.

“Oh, that’s…” He begins to pace, before barking out a soft laugh, hand rising to scratch his cheek. “Yeah that’s uh, that’s perfect really.”

You tilt your head, jostling your hoop earrings in the act. “What are you talking about?” You felt nervous for his answer, and unsure as to why that was.

He stops his incessant pacing, turning to you with an amused and yet somewhat deranged grin. “You’re in this now, baby. You n’me.” He gestures to the two of you with a finger as he slowly prowls closer. “So— so Shoupe knows you were on the way here at,” he lifts his arm, checking the watch beneath his Northface fleece. “Around this time frame. Right? So really…” He closes in on you fully once more, bending at the waist to look at you eye to eye. “If… if you turn me in, we’re goin’ down together. How’s that sound, huh— think you could handle jail baby? You think they do mani-pedis in prison?” He jokes, smirk only growing when your eyes widen. He was being cruel.

“Stop! I— I would never tell on you Rafey!” You start to cry again, and he nods slowly in approval, licking his lips. “Don’t wanna get locked up.”

“Yeah, well. All you gotta do is keep that pretty mouth shut. Think you can do that for me baby? Think you could… keep this little secret just for me?” Even now, he had a way with words. He made you feel special, like teaming up with him was something to be so proud of. There’s a warmth in your chest from the way he speaks to you, but a pit in your stomach at the guilt from feeling this way. You were dizzy with conflict.

“S’just too much, daddy. I dunno, what if I make a mistake? Just so dumb sometimes.” You sniffle, going to cover your face but he bats your delicate hands out the way with his own palms, cupping your cheeks to force your attention on him.

“Hey, hey. Gotta… use that bunny brain sometimes baby. Yeah? Gotta think about what might happen… if anyone finds out.” His voice softens with each word, invading your personal space until his warm breath fanned over your face comfortingly. He had a way of breaking you down to something so regressed and yet primal, pure putty in his criminal hands. Somewhere in the back of your hazy brain you felt this might be a tactic to get you on his side with all of this, but the words wouldn’t find you. “You’re my good girl, alright? Know you can do it…” His lips softly press to yours, and he starts to kiss you slowly, sensually, like he had all the time in the world.

You get lost in the kiss, it’s only natural — with the way his tongue wrapped itself skilfully around yours. He finds himself sat on the bed beside you, pulling you to perch on his leg as you succumb to the makeout session. He was really good at it, so talented at getting you wet and squirmy with just his mouth on yours. It feels like ten minutes of this have possibly passed by when your brain starts to ring out the alarm bells once more, warning you of your predicament. Your heart starts to pound and you pull back a little, eyes shiny and wide as they gaze into his lustful pair.

“M’scared.” It comes out quiet and he shakes his head, in total refusal of this.

“Shh, shh. How ‘bout you turn that brain off for a while. Yeah? Let me handle it.”

You suck in a shaky breath, swallowing thickly as you try to keep the panic at bay in his tight hold. “Can’t.”

“Yeah. You can. Can start by taking all these clothes off.” He drags his hands over your body, messing up the fabric in its wake. “Came over just lookin’ all pretty… would hate to ruin a night like this, right?” He talks slowly like you’re dumb and it only makes you ooze more, finding yourself nodding eagerly, sniffing back the tears and hopping onto your feet to kick off the kitten heels, dropping an inch or so in height.

Rafe tugs your skirt down as you pull your top over your head, and he hums in appreciation at the white lace adorning your body. “Mm, s’fuckin’ sexy.” He whispers, turning you by your hips to do a little spin for him, not able to help himself from giving your ass a sharp little smack and jiggle when he spots the new bunny tail poking through. “This one’s new, huh?” He drawls, giving it a little tug making your knees buckle, turning to clamber back onto his leg.

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. Wanna keep these on, yeah?”

You nod, and he’s kissing you again, handsy as ever as he caresses your soft skin. He’s being nice, for now. It usually started off this way before he’d get too impatient but you knew he was being extra nice for the purpose of persuading you to side with his unforgivable actions. Your criminal boyfriend drags his hand down your stomach, two finger pads rubbing circles over your clit through the lace making you groan out a cracked and desperate sound against him.

“Turn around.” He whispers, aiding you to sit between his legs, leaning back against him. Once in this compromising position, he peels your soaked underwear to the side— sliding his fingers through your messy folds. “God damn, weren’t lyin’ when you said you missed daddy— that right?”

“Just… just missed you so much.” Your eyes flutter shut, and you do find yourself relaxing more and more against his warm body, a clammy hand clutching the zip of his grey fleece, shuddering from his skilful touch.

After stroking your clit, causing you to clench and cream around nothing for a while, desperate moans sure to be heard by Rose if she was worriedly lurking in the hallway, Rafe started to push his thick fingers in, humming and licking his lips hungrily as your greedy hole swallowed him up, the long digits squelching from your copious tsunami of arousal.

“Oh daddy!” Is all you can say as he curls them just right, working you quickly towards your finishing point. As you drop into that Rafe-obsessed headspace, nearly at the crowning of your orgasm— his deep nasally voice rumbles from behind you, attracting your attention. As he speaks, he pulls his fingers back just so only the tips still remained inside you, and kept them there even when you wriggled your hips trying to get them in further.

“So… what are you gonna say if someone asks you where you were tonight? Huh?” His voice carries a threatening tone, which makes you pout at how totally unfair of him it was to work you into brainless mush and then ask you such an important question.

“I— uhm, I don’t—” You whimper as you writhe in his lap. He pulls his fingers out of you completely and in one fluid movement slaps your pussy, causing you to cry out in sensitivity at the harshness on the cunt he had spread open on top of him.

“Where?” He grits his teeth and you pant.

“At home, daddy!”

He seems satisfied, and slowly he sinks his fingers back inside you, causing you to release a relieved whine, liquifying against his body once more. “See? Not as dumb as you look, bunny girl.”

The words cause tingles to run through your very being, and as he continues to finger fuck you— you’re brought very close to the edge, very soon.

“Mmph— dad, g’nna cum!”

“Yeah? Gonna cum just for dad?” He lilts sympathetically in response.

“Yeah!”

“Yeah?”

Just like that, he pulls his fingers out of you — and before you have the chance to complain or even let out a petulant whine, he’s forcing your mouth open and stuffing his soaked fingers inside, all the way down your throat.

You slap at his wrist, gagging wetly as he holds your head against him keeping him still. “Yeah, that fuckin’ hurt? They’ll do a lot worse to you in prison, sweetheart. Can tell you that for free.” He finger fucks your throat for a few quick beats before drawing them out, letting you suck in harsh breaths. He wipes his fingers on your cheek before giving it an affectionate pat. “Haven’t earned the right to cum just yet. You understand right?”

You sniffle, starting to cry again. This whole ordeal was clearly upsetting to you, and Rafe was just treating it like it was one big loyalty test. All you wanted was to be with him, kiss him, touch him — and he was just being so mean.

Your tears do nothing for your case. Suddenly and aggressively, your boyfriend grips the back of your neck and forces you down into the mattress on the bed, your ass lifted obscenely in the air — panties still forced to the side with your tail-stuffed hole and drooling pussy on full display to him. Glitter refracts off your cheek when you turn your head on the bed, trying to get a look at him.

“Would you look at that?” He twiddles with the fluffy tail and you groan, body softening slightly and pussy dribbling. “Doesn’t take much. Does it baby? Yeah. Dressed up all sweet for me, you uh—” He chuckles at the cruel joke before it leaves his mouth. “Wouldnt take you for an accessory to a crime.”

You let out a pitiful sob and his jaw ticks in irritation, leaning right over you, jostling you a little so he could talk right in your ear. “Quit. That guy you saw in the truck was a bad man, alright? Worlds better off without scumbags like him. I don’t… I don’t wanna hear you’re feelin’ all bad about it. I always make the decisions, right? Daddy always knows what to do, right?” He demands aggressively, spanking your ass hard when you don’t respond immediately.

“Yes daddy you— you always know!” You wail, distraught and he nods, lips parted and jaw slightly agape — fighting his belt off his body to yank his pants down just enough to pull his dick out.

As much as you enjoyed showing your tail off to Rafe, wiggling it against his pelvis, tickling his tanned skin with the fluff each time he draws his hips in — you were actually a little disappointed you weren’t getting to be on your back today. You craved the closeness, the kisses, getting to see his pretty cock collect all your glittery slick as he fucks into your glossy hole. Instead, he pushes in from behind and sets a punishing pace, balls slapping against you as he holds you down, forcing your arch into place. With each thrust, comes a quiet grunt of his own exertion — the days frustration being worked out on you.

This lasts for a few minutes, Rafe slightly changing things up like adjusting your position or putting a foot up on the bed to dig you out even deeper. Your cunt was so sloppy it was audible, squelching with each roll of his agile hips. From the way he had previously stolen your much needed orgasm, you could tell you weren’t going to last much longer, fucking desperately back against him as you sobbed.

“Shit, why you fuckin’ crying so much huh? This not enough for you, princess?” He taunts breathlessly, squeezing your hips for an answer.

“Miss you Rafe, want you— want you nice!” You’re shaky, forcing in a painful breath as you cry— mascara making a mess of his sheets but he didn’t care about that right now— too focused on the way your ass jiggled against him with each thrust. As perfect of a view this was, he couldn’t tolerate the tears and flipped you onto your back, forcing your legs up over his shoulders.

As he slots himself back in, he shakes his head— floppy hair sweaty, some of it stuck to his forehead. “There? Happy? Y’gonna stop cryin’ now, hm?” He drawls, speeding up his pace once more, indulging in the way your tits are escaping the lacy cups of your bra. He palms at them greedily, helping free them out the top and he disappears into your neck, groaning as he hits a new spot, your hole sucking him in like it had a mind of its own.

He sucks marks on your neck. Proof you were here, he thinks in the back of his mind. He draws back to admire his work and is met with your tear-stricken, devastated face. All pretty with doe like eyes, gloopy runny mascara framing them, a single mink lash on your cheek. He swipes it away, unable to control the urge to press his body right onto yours and envelop your lips with his own.

He sucks on your tongue, holding you there with a hand gently round your neck as he possesses you entirely. The continuous slapping sound of his cock bruising your insides becomes music to your ears as you float away on a cloud, eyes struggling to stay open from the sheer amount of pleasure you were facing. As he softly holds you by your throat, like a farmer handling its first baby bunny — he feels that remaining amount of tension coursing through you. That last inkling of resistance, even if you didn’t know it was there. He slows his pace, grinding his cock inside you, massaging the tension out.

“Oh, little girl. Poor bunny, huh?” He coo’s, cradling your shaking, clammy body as you whimper, puffy walls spasming around his length. “All caught up in big bad Rafe’s problems, aren’t you. Yeah… well, it’s okay. I got you baby. You’re never gonna lose me, okay? You’re all mine.”

With your bodies connected, you gaze up into his eyes. All his, the words you adored more than anything. Your eyes drift over to his left shoulder where your anklet swings with each jostle of your body. ‘R.C’, the initials catch the light through blurry tearful eyes. All his.

A hand snakes between you, and when he presses down on your clit — your body finally gives in and you squeeze out a gut wrenching moan, legs shaking violently as you grip him, cumming hard and abundantly around his slick cock. He’s talking you through it, rolling his hips determinedly as you cum. You briefly catch his voice groaning out a “Thats my good girl. S’me and you baby. Don’t you forget it. Me n’you.”

You squirt out around him, soaking his abdomen, and whilst you might usually be concerned and embarrassed— you can’t think straight enough to consider that. He doesn’t seem to mind either, fucking into you as he chases his own high, mumbling words you couldn’t hear into your neck or mouthing at the fat of your tits as he’s spurting out his own thick, hot release.

Everything feels dreamlike after that, from the way he pulls out and smothers your hot face in sloppy kisses — to the way he lazily mops you up with a towel. You can’t process the pleasure you endured, and soon you fall asleep right there on Rafe’s bed, hot and feverish.

It must’ve been a good few hours you slept for, because when you wake to the soft warm touch of your boyfriend and his rings gliding up your back— your bleary eyes find the clock at his bedside to read 5:30AM. Rafe is dressed differently to how he was before, a black shirt you recall noticing in your immediate vision. He’s scooping you in his arms, sitting you up as you let out a disorientated whine, having trouble letting your brain catch up.

One hand strokes your cheek, to keep you awake— and the other strokes the fat of your hip, self indulgently. “So turns out, we’re uh— goin’ on a little trip. You like vacations, huh?”

You blink your sticky eyes at him, hand grazing the buttons of his shirt as your voice attempts to croak out a response. “Rafe, what’s —” Your brain starts to catch up, an unfamiliar and harrowing feeling spreading through your stomach— sinister and dooming as you remember the events that occurred before he’d fucked you and gotten you to fall asleep on his bed. Where had he been? So many hours had passed.

He cuts you off with a smile, a relieved smile — like all his problems had vanished, the corpse you’d found having just gotten up and walked away.

“Goin’ on a big boat. How’d you feel about the Bahamas, baby?”

#rafe cameron fic 🎀#bunny!reader

2K notes · View notes

myfictionaldreams · 8 months

Note

So I saw that you said you can take specific marauder requests. How about reader is insecure but the guys don't know it and she goes out to buy clothes and new lingerie that she thinks they might like because in her head she thinks if she doesn't look like the girls she researched they will leave her for either just eachother or all the other girls in the school. So when they are getting into it sirius realizes that she has a new bra (you can make up the rest of the scenario but preferably after he finds out she has a new bra angst happens and then fluffy smut and then the very end in fluff please)

What are you wearing? // Poly!Marauders x Fem!Reader

Summary: The latest lingerie trend did not look comfortable in any way but you still fell for the marketing and purchased your own, assuming that the boys would want you to dress like everyone else. However, when you decided to show off your outfit to Sirius, his reaction is anything but positive as he sees how uncomfortable you are.

Requested by: Thank you for answering my beck and call for a specific Marauders idea, I hope you enjoy your request!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, angst, fluff (lots), foursome, self-doubt/low self-esteem, anxiety, crying/breakdown, pet names, making out, Remus has words of wisdom, discussing emotions, romantic gestures (a little cheesy), nipple play, body worship, dirty talk, teasing, begging, oral sex, fingering, possessive behaviour, restraints, praise kink, daddy kink, size kink (!), creampie, rough sex

Words: 8k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

It was the latest fashion, created by muggles to wear luxurious, expensive lingerie bodysuits that uncomfortably hugged curves and pushed your breasts into busty mounds that they unnaturally did not sit at. However from the whispers from other students as they secretly hide in corners, sharing magazines and boasting about which woman looked best in the underwear, it was what was the latest fashion and everyone seemed to be loving it. So despite the discomfort, despite the desire to itch your skin against the lace around your hips, you kept the lingerie under your uniform, hoping to surprise one of the boys throughout the day.

It wasn’t that you never wore nice underwear, usually, it was a simple lace bra that softly cupped your breasts, the material transparent enough that your areolas were visible and had your boyfriends dropping to their knees to beg at touching and worshipping your body.

But like previously mentioned, this new style of lingerie was apparently very in right now and you wanted to keep up with the latest trends, even more so to please Remus, James and Sirius. It was hard enough pleasing one boyfriend but three? It felt like endless pressure to keep up, even though you knew that feeling was only from the little devil on your shoulder, the one that spouted negative thoughts that you were never enough.

It was nothing on behalf of your boyfriend’s to make you feel this way. In fact, they always went above and beyond to show you how much you were truly loved. But then that voice in the back of your mind would come back, reminding you that they were the most popular men in school, had endless other students lusting over them and it felt like you were competing, even though you already had the prize.

So this was why you had decided to splash the cash on the expensive muggle lingerie and hide it beneath your uniform, hoping to keep the relationship exciting and alive with the hopes that one of your boyfriends would pull you into a spare cupboard and find the present beneath your button up shirt.

This came in the shape of Sirius Black who promptly entwined your fingers together after class, carrying both your bag and his on his shoulder and tugging you down a deserted corridor and into a dusty, dimly light classroom. Sirius may have come across to others as coming from a pure-blooded family and always pristinely dressed, but beneath all of that was his rebellious side. The part of him that wanted it dirty and rough and everything that didn’t match his exterior.

He dropped the bags onto the floor, causing a cloud of dust to waft into the air but that didn’t stop his movements as he pulled you further into the room, not even bothering to lock the door, another one of his little ‘Sirius’ things, loving the thought of being caught. As usual, your adrenaline was pumping through your veins, feeling giddy and ready to do whatever Sirius wanted, just needing to be close to him, to feel his hands on your body, his lips against your skin.

“Come here Darling, up on top”, Sirius patted the sizeable oak desk that was in the centre of the room, even bothering to wipe his hand across to create an area that was without dust, the perfect area for you to come and sit on.

Jumping up with the help of Sirius’ big hands on your waist, you sat on the edge of the desk, your skirt hiking up slightly so that the brisk wood nipped against the backs of your thighs. This didn’t stop you from spreading them, making room for your boyfriend as he slide his hands to cup your cheek.

Sirius’ citrus scent from his hair caressed your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips, urgent and devouring, leaving you breathless and grasping to hold onto his shirt. He had full control with his grip on your face, tilting your head so that he could deepen the kiss, tongue slipping into your open mouth, dancing to taste your spit.

A moan bubbled in the back of your throat as he moved his body closer, his crotch pushing against yours as your legs hooked around the back of his knees. You were thoroughly and utterly consumed by him, breathing in the air from his mouth, the taste and smell of him, his warmth seeping into your skin. There was one thing you would never deny and that was how consumed you were by him, by each of your boyfriends, you had been since day one.

Sirius released his hold on your face with one hand but only because he needed to touch your skin, squeezing the soft area of your thigh and stroking up, further pushing your skirt to reveal the entire length of your leg. He didn’t stop though, exploring with a firm touch over your skirt and beneath the hem of your shirt, with the intent to pull your hips closer to rub his tented crotch harder against yours.

But then he suddenly froze, lips unmoving and a confused frown evidently etched into his handsome features as he pulled away to look down at where his fingers were feeling a strange material under your clothes.

You’d forgotten about your plan, through the lust-filled kisses and touches, it had slipped your mind what you were wearing.

Before Sirius could verbally ask what it was that he was feeling, you quickly beat him to it by breathlessly explaining, “I had a surprise”. With the adrenaline still pumping through your body, your fingers were shaking delicately as you removed your tie and unbuttoned your shirt, pushing the white material off of your shoulders, revealing the majority of the lingerie bodysuit.

Looking up at him through your eyelashes, attempting to look seductive whilst further pushing your elbows underneath your already pushed-up breasts.

You weren’t sure exactly what reaction you were expecting, maybe a horny curse or a hunger search of your body with his eyes, but you certainly weren’t expecting him to ask in a disdained tone, “What are you wearing?”

Sirius lifted the hand that had been resting on your hip, up to the tight material on your chest, trying to slip his finger between your breast and the lingerie but unable to do so with how tight and uncomfortable the bodysuit was.

“I thought you’d like it”, you say earnestly, trying to keep the simmering panic at bay that was beginning to pound into your heart. Sirius’ confusion only increased as the line between his furrowed brows deepened, a single step back to put some distance between the two of you, your legs dropping to dangle over the edge of the desk again as he looked over what you were wearing.

“Why would you wear something like that? Are you even comfortable in it?” he asks with a hint of distaste, something you hadn’t anticipated for him to sound like at all.

You begin to stutter over your words, losing the confident seduction you’d been attempting to play off. “It’s…it’s not supposed rt to be comfortable, I wanted to look nice for you”.

This response only seemed to further upset Sirius as his eyes refused to meet yours, remaining only on the extravagant lingerie. “But you always look nice, you didn’t have to do this!” The rise of his voice startled you enough to quickly shrug the shirt back up your arms, crossing the material across your chest so that you were covered once more. Sirius finally snapped out of his upset to look into your eyes, the frown relaxing a touch so that he could slowly explain, “Sweetheart, you know you don’t have to dress a certain way to impress me, you know that”.

Embarrassment pooled in your stomach causing you to feel burning hot and slightly nauseous. Of all the reactions you expected, it wasn’t this. Yes, you may be dressing completely out of your comfort zone and only doing it to make the boys happy but you had to make an effort and this was the only way you thought how.

You tried to keep your voice from wavering as you explained, “Yes, but I just wanted to make a little bit of an effort. Anyway, everyone else has been wearing this sort of thing or enjoying the look of it. And I just thought you wouldn’t-”, your mouth slammed shut with an audible snap as you tried to keep the truth spilling from your lips.

Tears were beginning to line the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over as you hastily began to fasten the buttons on your shirt, eyes on your fingers and not daring to look up at your boyfriend.

You’d hoped that Sirius would let it go, the words and the bodysuit, maybe you could jump off the desk, find somewhere to remove the lingerie and it never be spoken about again. However, this of course was wishful thinking on your part as Sirius’ voice had dropped an octave as he asked, “I wouldn’t…what? Finish what you were about to say.”

Blatantly ignoring his questioning, you had finished buttoning your top, turning to look for the tie that you’d haphazardly discarded behind you on the desk but in the low lighting, it was hard to see, especially as the tears began to slip down your cheeks.

Sirius closed the gap between your bodies again, his hand gently cupping your jaw to tilt it in his direction, his eyes glazed in worry as he noticed your tears, quickly swiping them away with his thumb. “Tell me”, he encouraged but you could still hear the strain at the back of his throat.

It was like a dam opened within you, that small hope on the restraint that you had snapped. “That you wouldn’t be interested in me anymore if I didn’t try and keep up with the trends of what's hot. Or that if I didn’t try, you’d all think you’re missing out on something so yes, this bodysuit is a little uncomfortable but I just wanted to impress you all so you didn’t think I wasn’t attractive or that you’d fall out of love with me because someone else looked more sexy or was willing to dress in all of these stupid outfits! I just wanted to make you all happy ”.

There it was, the devil on your shoulder, speaking your inner-most demons, laid completely bare in front of you. Fear after fear spilt from your lips, once you’d started you couldn’t stop, even though you were becoming hysteric, the escalation of the situation was just making you freak out more. You were full-on sobbing by this point, tears dampening the collar of your shirt and shoulders hunched as you sucked in deep shattering breaths.

The walls felt too close, the air too thick. You needed to get out, need to get away from Sirius, not wanting to even look at him to see the disappointment you were sure covered his face. Using your body for momentum, you pushed him back as you jumped off of the desk and stepped towards the door.

However a gentle but firm hand wrapped around your shoulder, halting your movements as Sirius’s concerned voice begged, “Please don’t go, we need to talk about this Darling”.

This wasn’t what you wanted right now, you didn’t want to talk, scared that your spiralling thoughts might be a reality, your consciousness being your worst enemy at that moment as you shrugged out of his grasp. “I just need a minute”. You sounded broken and another sob shook your shoulders as you didn’t look back. Not bothering to pick up your bag or find your lost tie you rushed out of the door, and the sick feeling in your stomach only increased when you heard Sirius yell and kick his frustrations out against a table as he let you walk away.

You weren’t entirely sure where you were going, keeping your head low so as to not have questioning looks as to why you were crying and scared you’d run into one of your friends or worse Remus or James. There were so many students in the corridors and you desperately needed an escape and ran in the direction of where there were only a limited amount of people as fresh air crisped against your wet cheeks as you rushed outside.

For a moment you contemplated sneaking to the shrieking shack, knowing that you could curl into a ball underneath the sheets of the master bed there but that would also be the first place that the boys checked other than the Gryffindor common room. Furthermore, you needed somewhere outside, need to feel the sun on your face and a sense of calm so you half jogged to one of your favourite spots in Hogwarts.

It was the one place you truly felt at peace and somewhere you’d stumbled upon once when exploring the Hogwarts grounds in your first year. A luscious green cliff edge that overlooked the lake and Scottish mountains and, what made it so special was that when the sun began to set, it was the perfect spot for the golden hour of beautiful sunshine. The very last piece of land that the sun-kissed before it disappeared over the mountains.

This was where you crumpled onto the grass, tucking your knees in close, hiding your face within them and wrapping your arms around tightly so you were now in a little ball. There you sat and you cried. For the embarrassment, anxiety-ridden and uncertainty as to what happened now. You didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts, maybe it was better if you just stayed in that little spot forever you contemplated dramatically.

You were unsure how much time had passed but the air was beginning to chill as the sun dropped further in the sky. There were no more tears, but your breaths were still ragged, your eyes sore as you looked across the lake, and your body trembling through exhaustion and still, above all of that, you couldn’t stop thinking about how uncomfortable the stupid bodysuit was under your uniform.

Footsteps suddenly crunched against the crisp grass and you tried not to stiffen at the unknown arrival. But with each step, you knew from the slight limp who exactly it was as Remus sat beside you, his legs crossed underneath him as you automatically moved your face to look away from him, not wanting him to see the mess you’d become.

“Don’t”, he insisted. “Don’t do that, don’t hide away from me, my love. Come here”, he encouraged, his heavy hand resting against your shoulder and tugging your body towards his. You succumb easily, releasing the grip around your knees so that you could lie your head against his lap, his hand remaining on your shoulder giving you warmth and comfort as his other hand stroked through your hair and he simply lets you cry.

Remus began to talk, lowly and calmly into your ear as he helped you through your overwhelming emotions. “It’s more than just the fancy underwear, isn’t it? Listen to me Love, we all have our insecurities that bubble away underneath our skin but we can’t let those negative thoughts win. We deserve happiness. YOU deserve happiness.”

Your sobs calmed down enough that you were just lightly hiccuping, not even bothering to wipe away your tears as his trousers absorbed the wetness. Remus lowered his head, to gently kiss the side of yours before he continued. “I know sometimes our minds are louder than our hearts so even if I tell you, how much I truly adore you, that sometimes you won’t comprehend how much it is true. But please, Sweetheart, understand that… you’re my family. You, Sirius and James. Without you three, I have no one and I don’t want you to think you’re anything else but my entire world. You could dress in the old linen from a house elf and I would still love everything about you. I don’t need you to be dressed in the latest fashion or clothes that are evidently uncomfortable. I want you to be happy, we ALL want you to be happy”.

Your heart was pounding for another reason now as you couldn’t bare to not be touching Remus, needing more than anything to show him how much you appreciated him, loved him with just as much passion as the words that he spoke. So without another word, you rushed to sit up and climb into his lap, straddling your thighs over his, shaking fingers cupping his scarred face to hold him still as you kissed him deeply.

It wasn’t like the same sort of passionate, devouring kiss with Sirius earlier in the day in that forgotten classroom. This was passionate in a way that the world began and ended with each other, that you need to show your love and appreciation with your lips where words would surely fail you. Remus was always the one to have the best advice, to be able to talk the others around when in a low mood, he just always seemed to know the exact right thing to say.

As both of your lungs burned for air, you pull from the kiss but only to lean your forehead against his, warm breath fanning across his face as he wiped away the stains of the tears, “I love you, Remus Lupin”.

“I love you too”.

The sun had now cascaded behind the mountains, leaving an orange hue in the sky as everywhere else began to fall into shadow. The air instantly cooled but you didn’t care, especially not with Remus who ran at a fevered temperature due to his lycanthropy. The two of you stayed like that until you felt comfortable enough to risk glancing over his shoulder, towards the lining of trees from the forbidden forest.

“They aren’t here”, Remus informed you, kissing your cheek gently and wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you closer.

You weren’t sure if you should be relieved or not at hearing that Sirius and James didn’t accompany Remus. “Where are they?”, you asked quietly, leaning your head against his shoulder, suddenly feeling exhausted after your breakdown.

Remus took more than a moment to answer like he was trying to decide how much he should tell you before finally deciding. “They’re both back in the dormitory, sorting out a little surprise for you”.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat, that they were doing something nice even after the way you’d spoken and reacted to Sirius. “I feel bad I stormed away from Sirius”, you admitted to Remus, pulling away from his shoulder to play with the end of his tie.

Remus offered you a shrug, “He’ll get over it. I think he was more upset that he didn’t know how to process that you weren’t comfortable and doing all of this for his benefit. And that he struggled to find the right words to say without sounding pissed off and couldn’t fix the situation before you left”.

You nod, risking a glance up towards Remus’ face and relieved to find him looking at you still in a relaxed way and you knew he really wasn’t annoyed like you thought he would be. “And James, is he ok?”

Remus nods, kissing the tip of your nose and pulling a smile from your lips, “He’s hurt like Sirius and I, that you’d been feeling this way without speaking to us, he wanted to fly down here as soon as Sirius found us but I knew you needed some time to yourself”.

“Thank you”. You hoped that he understood that you were saying that for more than one reason, for everything and by the twinkle returning to his eyes, the life that was sparking once more as he pecked your lips gently, you knew he understood.

“Come on, let’s not leave them any longer”.

Remus helped you to stand and the two of you took a leisurely stroll, hand in hand, back up to the castle, you’d missed dinner but Remus insisted that he’d go and get you something to eat after your surprise.

The surprise was entirely romantic and your chest warmed with love as you looked at the dormitory that you shared with the boys. There were different-shaped candles floating around the room, Remus’ record player in the corner at a low volume with the latest Bowie track that the boys loved and rose petals were scattered across the floor and freshly made bed but the petals had been enchanted to change colour and shimmer in the candlelight.

A sweet, thankful gasp was just about to spill from your lips but it was quickly replaced with a shocked laugh, your hand covering your mouth to hide your grin as Sirius and James stepped out of the bathroom. They were completely nude, except for the black lacy tight underwear that hardly covered their genitals, and nicely tied off with a pretty pink bow over where their cocks were.

The two of them stood proudly, abs tense to show off and flex as much as possible, a wide stance and arms behind their backs as they both grinned cheekily at you. “What…? What are you both wearing?!” you couldn’t help but giggle as you stepped closer and out of Remus’ reach, only for him to start taking off his clothes too.

You turned to watch, eyes wide as he too was wearing the skimpy underwear that seemed to hardly be covering him at all with his cock at half-mast. “Wait, have you had them on this entire time?” you asked dumbfoundedly, trying not to stare at the ridiculousness of the tiny little outfits.

“Oh I have indeed, can’t tell you how far they’ve been wedged up my arse but beauty is pain right?” he joked, subtly trying to pull the material from between his cheeks to relieve the tightness there.

You watched as Remus brushed past to stand next to Sirius who now stood in the middle of him and James, his grin softening to a knowing smile as you also moved closer to them. Once you were close enough did he tip your chin back, “Do you only love us more because of these outfits? Or would you say you loved us regardless of what we are wearing”.

The penny dropped as you now realised why they were wearing the uncomfortable-looking, ridiculously scandalous underwear. Your shoulders dropped in defeat, giving him a knowing look as you shook your head no. “Exactly. This is how we feel for you, I don’t want you to shut us out again or doubt our feelings for you. If you ever have a thought like this again, I need you to come to us, and talk because that's healthy and normal in relationships. Don’t bottle it up and don’t shut us out and please, don’t walk away from me again, I couldn’t bare it”.

You reached up to take his hand, moving it from your chin to nuzzle your cheek into it, kissing his palm as you promised, “I won’t do it again, I’m sorry I did all of those things and made you all worry. I love you, everything about you, without the outfits”, you emphasise with a smile. “They don’t look comfortable at all”, you say with a giggle, noticing James trying to give his cock more room in the confinement of the lingerie.

“Think I’ve got as much room as your tits which reminds me, we need to release them from their prison!”, Sirius joked, his fingers reaching to begin unbuttoning your shirt and then pushing it over your shoulders.

Remus stepped up behind you, his naked back flush against yours, “oh Pup, this doesn’t look comfortable at all”, he chastised in a low voice, beginning to unzip you from behind. The relief was immediate as Sirius helped him by pushing the loosened straps from your shoulders and you audibly sighed as the warm air kissed your now exposed breasts.

“There are my girls”, Sirius mumbled, his thumb brushing against the nipple of your right breast causing it to pebble before his mouth dropped to lick and suck on the sensitive bud. Before you could properly lean into the touch, James’ tuft of hair was soon at the same level as Sirius's as he did the same to your left nipple, suckling it into his mouth before flattening his tongue against it. Your back arched, hands delving into both men’s soft hair, gripping and holding them close as arousal struck through your core.

The remainder of your clothes soon pooled around your feet on the floor, Remus even helping to unbuckle your shoes until you were left in nothing but your white frilly socks as Remus had effortlessly removed the rest of the lingerie and skirt.

The moments like this, when they were so doting and loving that you almost felt overwhelmed because you wanted to return that love and affection to all of them at the same time but with only two hands, it was challenging to do. So you decided to concentrate on the two boys attached to your front, who were nipping and teasing your tender nipples, sucking them into peaks before laying them flat with the push of their tongues.

The grip you held on their hair reluctantly relaxed and tried to do a different exploration, over their shoulders, feeling this leanness of James and the muscles of Sirius from where he trained as Beater for the quidditch team. Lower still your nimble fingers travelled to their chests, feeling the sprinkling of hair that curled over their pecks and then still further down with the goal to reach the hem of their underwear. However, in the position, you could only react to James who seemed to realise your goal and pushed his body more towards yours.

Your fingertips ran along the hem of the tight underwear and then halted as James shuddered under the touch as you stroked over his tip that had bulged out as he became increasingly harder with nowhere else to go. As you teased his tip, James began to kiss up your body, particularly over the indents over your chest from where the bodysuit had pushed your breasts up, and he didn’t stop until he was next to your ear, still needing to bend down because of the height difference.

James did not move with urgency, even though his hips were bucking under the tease of your fingers. With one cupping your jaw, tilting your face away and the other hand gripping onto your waist, James began to kiss along the column of your neck, over the sensitive little spots that had your knees weak and more heat pooling in between your legs.

Remus on the other hand now stood next to you, his fingers stroking down your jaw to grasp your attention which you gave him, looking up at him with wide eyes and bottom lip stuck between your teeth. “I want you to listen to me carefully ok? There will be no rushing tonight, our goal is to please YOU, and only you. I want to hear every little moan and cry that you have so there’s no need to bite your lip, my love. I want this pretty mouth open and begging for more, do you understand?”

You couldn’t think of words that made any sense like a thick warm blanket of fuzzy arousal clouded your thoughts so all you could respond to Remus was a desperate nod of the head and a throaty moan.

“Good. Now tell me, just before we start. Who do you belong to?”

James and Sirius stopped the teasing with their mouths so that they could hear you answer, needing to hear it, for their own sanity and possessive natures.

“You, I belong to all of you”, you breathlessly answered, still looking up into Remus’ green eyes that always reminded you of spring, hypnotised completely by him.

“That’s right”, he praised delicately still stroking down the side of your face. “And, who do we belong to?”

“Me”, your answer was quieter, heart pounding at having to say it out loud as you knew that he was only getting you to say it to remind you that your freakout today was unwarranted and you should always know that they’re yours.

Remus tilted an eyebrow up, his hair falling slightly over his eyes as he didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “Excuse me, I didn’t quite hear that”.

You refrained from huffing in embarrassment as you repeated yourself at a louder volume, “You all belong to me, to each other”.

This was the answer he was looking for as his lips curled into a gentle smile and then opened as he was going to continue talking but James seemed to snap hearing those words as the hand on your jaw pushed your body backwards, the other on your waist supporting your body so that you didn’t trip over. The back of your knees met that bed and the two of you toppled onto the soft, rose-petaled surface.

“I couldn’t wait anymore, need to feel you, taste you, want to make you mine”, James groaned against the shell of your ear as he finally turned your face enough that his lips found yours in a hungry, lust-filled kiss.

Behind the two of you, you were able to hear Sirius and Remus chuckling deeply at James’ frantic motions and then they were moving closer and sitting on either side of the bed, taking a hand of yours each into theirs. A way to stay close to you but also restrain you in a way so that James was fully in control and the pleasure was solely on you.

The Gryffindor’s seeker’s tongue brushed against yours, tasting and dominating the dance happening in your mouth, his body sliding between your thighs so that you could feel the scratch of the uncomfortable underwear that he was still forcing himself to wear against the sensitive skin of your thighs. His hand's hand began to lower, the wide expanse of his hands meaning that he was able to feel a vast area of your body at once, over your collarbones, your breasts, squeezing softly, a contrasting touch from his commanding mouth.

Over your hips, your thighs, tucking them in closer around his waist. Finally, he pulled away from your mouth, his glasses slipping down his nose as hot breaths being shared as you both desperately tried to breathe but it was mostly so he could tell you his contemplative thoughts. “I don’t know whether to let you ride my fingers or taste you”.

Your pussy clenched around nothing at his words, not being able to decide an answer for him but thankfully Sirius pipped up and offered the idea, “Why not both?”

James grinned, pecking your lips before glancing towards Sirius, “Good idea, Padfoot”.

Then his warmth crowding around your chest was gone as he quickly backed away and lay on his stomach at the bottom of the bed, his face now between his legs and hands pushing back your thighs until once again, Sirius and Remus took one each so that you were fully restrained.

“Such a pretty pussy, MY pretty pussy”, James admired as he began to spread your juices that were seeping through your folds, over the rest of your cunt. With one hand, he spread back your labia so that you were bare before him, he could see the subtle throb of your clit and the clench of your pussy, gleaming in the low candlelight from your wetness.

James licked a long strip from your perineum, over your hole and up to your clit, audibly swallowing your juices and moaning, and then there was no holding him back. If he wasn’t sucking your clit then he was pushing his thick tongue into your hole, exploring the tensing area. And then he was adding two of his fingers, rocking in and out in time with the circling of his tongue around your clit.

You were very quickly descending into the pleasure and gave up on watching him as all you could do was lie back and moan, hands desperate to reach for him but still being held back by your two other boyfriends. So you lay there, mouth wide open and mewled and quivered, especially as he began to curl his fingers, teeth scraping over the bundle of nerves before carefully easing the touch with a warm lick of his tongue.

“Is Prongs making you feel good, Darling?” Sirius cooed down to you, squeezing your thigh to try and grasp your attention.

“Yes! So-...so good, please don’t stop”, you begged, eyes clothes and a withering mess as James increased his pace. That’s when you felt it, the tightening in your core that sent tingles over your pussy and thighs, that feeling that you craved every day to feel and one that the boys were always so good and making you experience. “I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, James please don’t stop”.

James didn’t plan on stopping as he watched your reactions from between your legs, expertly fingering and licking you, feeling your pussy clenching and tightening around his digits before you gasped, arched your back and fluttered and pulsed with your orgasm. You felt both heavy and light simultaneously as he didn’t slow down his motions until you collapsed back fully into the sheets again.

“You’re so beautiful like this, laid out beneath me. But, I think it’s time one of the other two has a go, what do you say Honey?” James asked still between your legs. Opening your glazed-over eyes, you looked down at him and nodded in response, but you were also sure that what he had to offer now you would have said yes too.

Remus leaned down so that his lips danced along your cheek as he whispered against your skin, “Think it’s my time to have a taste of your sweet pussy?”

This time, the aroused fog in your brain cleared slightly as you shook your head no which in turn earnt a confused expression to Remus’ face. “Want you to fuck me”, you stated with conviction, needing to be full and stretched.

Remus chuckled as he squeezed your thigh and wrist that he still held, “Already? But we’ve only just started Sweetheart”.

You whine pathetically, trying to reach for him and momentarily forgetting that you were still very much restrained. “Please! Want to feel your cock inside of me, don’t want to wait”.

“Ok Love, can’t be having my girl going without what she wants now, can I? You haven’t been stretched much though so do you want to ride me so you have control for a second?” He didn’t sound boastful when he talked and you knew it was necessary for him to ask this, Remus had one of the biggest cock’s you’d ever seen. In fact, when you first saw it, you were sure it wouldn’t fit inside of you. However now after fucking constantly, it was a little easier but still not something to be rushed so you nodded your head in agreement with his idea.

Remus moved to lay against the pillows, easing the lingerie at long last down his legs and onto the floor and then his hands were out and supporting your weight as you were released from Sirius’ grip and able to crawl over to the other Marauder. Once more, his body was a lot warmer than the other two but that only aided in moments like this, the heat helping your pussy to stretch. Straddling his hips, you could help but grind your bare pussy against his thick cock that was hard and lay heavy against his abdomen.

The two of you moaned deeply, his cock throbbing just as harshly as your clit as it brushed against his shaft. Remus rested his hands against your waist, but only to support you, he let you be in control for the moment as your hands rested against his chest, pushing off of it with your movements.

Leaning down quickly, you pecked his lips, sighing into the touch before leaning back up and gripping the base of his dick, standing it up and then rising onto your knees. Even just feeling his tip brushing your hole had enough stimulation that you were moaning. This only increased as you began to lower yourself, slowly and with Remus’ support by guiding your hips down tentatively, making sure that your gasps were done in pleasure and not discomfort.

It burned but in a way that had you begging for more, stretching to your very limit as inch after inch pushed into your cunt until you were about ¾ of the way down before his tip stroked your cervix. Leaning forward so you could take the weight off of your knees, you both just stayed in that position as your body adjusted to being sheathed.

Only as you began to slowly rock your hips did Remus dare to move his hands but only to cup your arse cheeks, massaging the areas and helping you a little to ride back and forth on his cock. “Feel so big Daddy”, you quietly moaned into his chest, not meaning to use the nickname so early into the night but sometimes a different side of you took over.

“Yeah? You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well my love, you’re so tight and pretty above me”, Remus praised and his hips began to buck up to meet yours, increasing the pace and roughness slightly and from the earth-shattering moan you released, there was no chance he was going to stop doing that again if it made you sound that good.

As you began to roll your hips in time with Remus, you had a thought as to where the other two were. Looking over your shoulder and see James and Sirius sat together, their hands clenched and resting on their thighs as they tried not to touch themselves and a pang of guilt settled in your stomach as they really were just trying to think about your pleasure. “Please! Please touch yourselves, take off those stupid underwear and touch yourself. No wait, come here, let me touch you.”

“This is supposed to be about you”, Sirius reminded you in a low gruff tone, like he was trying to restrain himself from snapping but was clearly struggling.

“Yes, and I want to touch you. If you won’t fuck my mouth then you’ll have to come over here so I can wank you off”.

Remus chuckled beneath you, “So demanding all of a sudden, is someone desperate for cock?”

You mewl, eyes closing and head tipping back as his cock fucked you with a hard slam of his hips, “Mmmm, yes! Always desperate for your cocks, because they’re mine aren’t they?” Your words were teasing and you made sure to timidly smile down at Remus as he grinned up at you.

“Yes, they are, all yours Sweetheart”. He fucked into you hard again, your body jolting from the momentum of the movement.

However his thrusts up slowed as Sirius and James stood on either side of the bed, the lacy underwear now discarded and cocks leaking and standing proud, bobbing in the air. Your mouth watered and you were half tempted to beg to taste them but decided to save your energy as you wrapped a hand around each of their cocks, squeezing and pumping slowly, in time with your rolling hips.

The two of them grunted, drips of precum building at the tip, leaking down and wetting the sensitive area. As you figured out a pattern with how fast to stroke them, squeezing in certain areas of their shafts and making sure to brush your thumb over the tip, Remus watched happily, his cock throbbing harder inside of you as you touched the other two. In each of the Marauder's minds, they were once again appreciating just how beautiful you were, taking Remus’ cock so well and pleasuring Sirius and James with your skilled hands, it was a sight to behold.

Sirius couldn’t hold back anymore as he roughly grabbed your jaw, tilting your face back and feverishly kissing you, tongue instantly swiping to gain entrance to your mouth, much like he had earlier in the day when you were sitting on the edge of the dusting desk.

The four of you moaned for different reasons, at the pleasure that was being shared and the love that was underlying in all the touches.

Remus began to fuck up into your body harder but still at a slower pace, his hand stroking over your abdomen, stroking the soft skin before his thumb dipped lower and stroked over your clit in demanding swipes.

Your thighs instantly clenched as well as your palms around the men's cocks. Sirius pulled back, needing to hear and see your pleasure as he stroked a couple of strands of hair out of your eyes, “You like the way Moony is fucking you? I want you to cum for him because, by the look on his handsome face, I don’t think he’s going to last much longer”.

Remus grunted, having been trying to hold back his own orgasm until you had found yours. It just felt so good when you fucked him first, pussy so tight, warm and all his that he didn’t care if he came quicker than other times the two of you fucked, he just wanted to fill you up, needing to see you dripping with his seed.

You were shaking above him at the sight of Remus trying not to unravel and the stroke of his thumb and cock were driving you ever closer to your own peak, thighs shaking with each grind of your hips.

Then you felt it, that tightening and blissful euphoria building in strength, like you were going to explode into a sea of stars as Remus’ name sang from your lips in pleading praise. “That’s it Love, cum for me, fuck you feel so good”, Remus shouted, his cheeks flushed pink and hair sticking to his forehead with the restraint of holding back his own orgasm.

Thankfully for him, after a particularly hard thrust and press of his thumb on your bundle of nerves, you were clenching your eyes closed, mouth gaping open and body locking up as you came around his cock. Only a couple of seconds later, Remus was arching his back slightly, hands squeezing the flesh around your hips tightly as he came, cock buried as deeply as it could go into your cunt as he needed you to have every single drop of his cum.

Your eyes momentarily opened to enjoy the sight but then a hand on the back of your head distracted you as your hair was harshly tugged back, causing your back to arch up, tits pushed out as Jjames batted away your hand from his cock. But, it was only so he could quickly toss his cock off, desperately whimpering as he knelt on the edge of the bed to get closer to you as he too came, all over your tits and down your sternum.

You watched with a satisfied grin at seeing James frantically finding his own orgasm and how flushed he now looked as the last drip of cum gathered at the tip of his cock. The grip in your hair loosened enough that you were able to lean forward and lick a single strip on his dick, capturing that last drip and swallowing it down with a genuine smile.

James looked like he was going to combust at the sight as he sucked in heavy breaths and looked like he was going to pounce on you to show you just how much he loved you but then the one man who hadn’t found his on orgasm quickly disrupted these thoughts. A strong arm wrapped around your waist and hiked you off of Remus's cock which pulled out of you, his cum dripping down as the tallest marauder slide off of the bed.

Sirius returned you to your knees and pushed your shoulders down so your cum covered chest was flat against the sheets and petals and your arse perked up into the air. “Need you so bad Darling, are you going to let me play with you?” Sirius asked, stroking a strong, wide hand down your spine.

“Please fuck me”, you begged, looking over your shoulder towards him. Sirius gave him a handsome grin, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached around you to grasp both of your arms and hold them behind your back.

“It would be my pleasure”, the long-haired man muttered, shifting his hips until his cock brushed against your cum covered hole and began to push in. You were so sensitive after taking Remus that you pulsed around Sirius, his cock stretching and filling you completely, he may not have been as big as Remus but he was still thick and hard. “Merlin! I love feeling Moony or Prong’s cum inside of you, feel it coating my cock and lubing your pretty pussy”.

You gasped at his words as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours, hands tightly holding onto yours so that your weight rested awkwardly on your neck but you didn’t care, needing and wanting everything he was willing to give you.

Unlike Remus, Sirius didn’t hold back with his thrusts, moving with speed and intensity that had you almost seeing stars with how deep he was fucking you in this angle. Your hands desperately clung to his, feeling the coolness of his rings and using that to ground you to the moment as you were beginning to feel a little fuzzy and floaty from the day's events.

“Taking me so well, you’ve done so well for all of us”, Sirius praised, followed by a deep throaty moan as you squeezed his cock tighter at his words. This only encouraged him to fuck you faster until it was a blur as to where your bodies met.

Your toes were curled as the constant smack of his cock against all of your blissful nerves had you wanting to melt right into the bed. It wasn’t long before you were feeling that relief on the horizon and from the way your pussy was clenching, Sirius could feel it too.

Releasing his hold on your wrists, he quickly pulled your upper body up, until your back was flush against his chest, his arms wrapping around your front to support your weight from toppling forward.

“Say it again, say you’re ours, I need to hear you say it”, Sirius asked, his sharp teeth teasing the shell of your ear, even in the new position it didn’t stop his deep, fast thrusts.

You were sure you were screaming your answer as your orgasm throbbed through your entire body as you did as requested, “I’m yours, I’m all of yours, Sirius- ah! Fuck please-”, you were rambling now, saying any words that you could think of as you were overcome with pleasure.

The sensation was so intense that you hadn’t noticed that Sirius had also cum with you until you were able to catch your breath and realise you were both collapsed face first onto the bed. Sirius’ cock was still inside of you, slowly softening and allowing his and Remus’ cum to continue seeping out and onto the sheets.

His lips ghosted over your shoulder as he moved your hair away from your ear, “And what did we learn today?”, he asked still sounding breathless but also teasing.

“Clothes don’t define love”, you mumble, feeling exhausted and hungry, looking forward to the feast that Remus was bound to bring you all after the cleanup and aftercare.

“Exactly. And what else?”

“That I belong to you all, just as you all belong to me”.

“That’s right Darling, and please, never forget it”.

#poly!marauders #the marauders #marauders smut #poly!marauders x reader #james potter smut #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin smut #hp smut #hp fanfic #the marauders x reader #mine*

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leafleaf · 2 months

Text

Sweetheart

Summary: Luke Castellan pulls the camp sweetheart and no one knows how he managed to snag her after everyone else's attempts had failed.

Warnings!: Fem! Reader, claimed but not specific, Counselor! reader just really cute fluff lwk. :3

Y/n L/n was nobodies enemy at Camp Half-Blood. Everyone at half camp half-blood had come to the consensus that they all just loved Y/n. Even Mr. D admits that her smile could warm an old sad man's heart.

So obviously by default every boy was swooning for her and every girl admired her. Only one little problem. In all of her years at camp, (She was a full rounder). No one had ever managed to take her off the market. Not even a fling. Y/n had always just ridden solo and she was completely content with that.

Until one winter everything changed.

You see, Y/n had never really planned on dating Luke, but how could she refuse? He was Tall, Handsome, and really sweet. And he was the complete opposite of Y/n. Y/n always believed opposites attract.

"Go on a date with me? Just one, I promise I'll make it worth your while." Luke promised as he peered down at you.

"Hmm, okay." Y/n responded.

"Really?" Luke said. Luke had heard about the rumors of Y/n's dating life obviously. Who hadn't?

"No, not really." Y/n said in a sarcastic tone. "Of course really, just let me know when." She said as she picked up her training bag to go back to her cabin, before she could go, she tiptoed up to Luke and planted a kiss on his cheek.

She didn't turn around to see Luke's madly red face, and he's happy she didn't.

So when everyone came back for the summer, news spread like wild fire. Camp Half-Blood's Sweetheart was off of the market, taken by none other than Luke Castellan.

At first people didn't really realize until about three days into the summer. They started to notice that Hermes cabin was somehow always on schedule with Y/n's cabin.

Then the campers noticed the two counselors were closer, a lot closer. Some would even say they were on the cusp of borderline PDA.

Then everyone noticed how Y/n and Luke were sitting together at every meal, every meal!

Luke and Y/n liked playing games with everyone, so when people got bold enough to ask one of them "Are you guys together?" They would both have the same answer.

"No, we're just really close friends." They would both answer with a smile, when in reality they had been together officially for about 2 months.

Of course, everyone knew that they were together, even though they didn't say it. Everyone knew. He was hers and she was his. If she called, he would answer. That's just the way it was.

Eventually everyone got over the fact that they're beloved Sweetheart had been swooped by Luke Castellan because well. They were meant for each other.

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo #percy jackson

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lovelybluebirdie · 2 months

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What is yours

Astarion x gn!Reader

Summary: A stroll through the market evokes an unpleasant sensation in Astarion.

Word Count: 3,1k

hurt/comfort, jealousy, fluff

[ AO3 ]

The warm rays of the midday sun bathed the markets’ goods in a marvellous light. The place was bustling, a scent of spices lingering in the air and hurried voices brimming.

If someone had told Astarion that one day he’d be able to move around Baldur’s Gate so freely again, he’d probably huffed merely a dry laugh – and yet here he was, following you through the narrow streets of his city, admiring how much colour the world had to offer.

Of course it was you who had dragged him along for the mundane task to gather some food for your companions back at camp. Astarion couldn't care less to fill up their bellies, as his own appetite was perfectly stilled from your generosity when it came to offer him your blood, but one blink from your doe eyes had been enough to convince him to accompany you.

Well, that, and perhaps that warm feeling that refused to leave his chest when he was with you.

It was obvious that you loved to stroll around the market, savouring the colourful impressions while taking a break from all the fighting and gore your journey to rid yourself from the tadpoles held for you.

Astarion had never watched you spending your coin so lightly before. You probably thought it was time to treat yourself once in a while, and who was he to deny you this little pleasure? He had to admit that he actually adored seeing your face light up over the different trinkets you bought, eagerly filling your bags and pouches with your newest additions.

“Let's get some fruit for the others while we’re at it,” you suggested, pointing towards a merchant presenting an inviting range of fresh goods. “Something nutritious seems much needed after we fed mostly on leftovers for the past weeks.”

Your shoulders were loaded with the various goods you had already bought – dyes, herbs, some new toys for Scratch and the owlbear cub and a bunch of flasks to fill with potions.

“As you wish,” Astarion replied, when a display of weapons caught his eye. His last pair of daggers had become rather blunt from the Goblin throats he’d cut, so maybe it was time to treat himself as well, he thought and gently grabbed your wrist.

“On second thought, why don't you go ahead while I'll have another look around here, my love?” he asked and came to a stop. “I haven't much expertise to add when it comes to your culinary needs, and those daggers look rather appealing.”

“Sounds fine with me, but try not to spend all of our gold at once,” you teased and squeezed his shoulder.

“Hah, you're one to talk. Please remind me, who was it again that just bought five new toys for Scratch, so he had a set of different colours to choose from?”

“He needs some variety,” you muttered, trying to keep up a serious expression. “But nevermind, see you in a minute then.”

You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek and waved, already on your way to spend some more of your coin.

Astarion couldn’t help but smile over your excitement for the market, before he picked up a dagger from the display in front of him. The handle appeared to be of higher quality than his current ones, and the blade looked sharp enough to inflict some hurt.

As he gazed further through the wares, pondering which one would fit him best, he spared a glance to check on you.

He spotted you a few stalls away at the fruit stand you had mentioned. The vendor you were talking to gesticulated wildly while presenting his wares, leading you to laugh.

Astarion frowned and put the dagger away to take a closer look.

The vendor was young, an elf with blond curls, and Astarion noticed that he wasn’t an unpleasant sight.

He was immediately bothered by the smile you gave the other man, the way he touched your hands as he started to offer you bite-sized pieces of fruit to taste.

His fingers lingered too long against yours for Astarion’s liking.

As he continued to watch you from afar, something inside his belly started to seethe – hot and ugly.

A feeling he experienced before when it came to you, but couldn't quite grasp.

Well, whatever this was, Astarion certainly wasn’t jealous. Not of some random street vendor at least – and why should he be? Because you had smiled so sweetly at him? Or because you were laughing again as you took another piece of fruit from his filthy hands?

What in the nine hells could be so entertaining about buying fruit anyway?

It was ridiculous, really, and yet Astarion imagined how it would feel to rip the vendor's throat as punishment for daring to touch you.

Would he bleed out quickly? Would he scream?

Astarion shook his head, shoving the violent image aside.

He remembered the previous occasions when that unpleasant burning inside his stomach had appeared. It was the moment Gale decided it was appropriate to show you his so-called magical weave, or the other day when Wyll proposed a dance to you. You had kindly rejected both of them, but Astarion was still not particularly impressed by their interest in you.

He knew what others would seek from you. Why they wanted you. For the same reasons he enjoyed being with you: your compassion, the kindness you spread. Your special talent to make him feel seen.

There was also your wit, the way you would crack a joke even in the most maddening situations, making him feel light. And not to mention, you were a beautiful vision if Astarion had ever seen one.

Of course there would be others who saw those qualities as well, aiming to claim you.

A sudden wave of anxiety flooded his mind, moulding an appaling image in his skull.

He wondered if one day you would prefer someone else over him.

Someone who would match your kindness – acting all selfless and heroic, indulging in activities he found little pleasure in.

Providing you with something Astarion might be unable to give you, ever, no matter how much he cared about you.

Hells, what if you were already seeking someone like that?

His stomach dropped.

The dreadful notion spread its relentless claws past his ribs, tearing holes in his dead heart.

Blood rushed to his ears.

Before he even realised, his feet were already dragging him towards you.

He needed to be close to you – doing anything to make this feeling stop.

When he arrived next to you, he placed a hand on the small of your back and grasped your tunic, a little tighter than he'd intended.

He tried his best to keep his composure.

“Are we all done here, my love?” he asked, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Oh, Astarion!” You smiled when you noticed him, unaware of his musings. Your pouch was filled to the brink with fresh fruits. “Yes, I guess that would be all.”

Astarion felt the need to pull you away, but before he came up with an excuse to leave immediately, the merchant was already addressing you again.

“Think about it, will you?” A smug grin plastered that man’s face as he spoke to you, casually bending over his counter.

Astarion gave you a confused look.

Think about what?

“Unfortunately there’s no time to join the tavern tonight, but thank you for the offer. Maybe next time,” you said amicably and packed up your wares.

What was that?

Astarion thought he must have misheard.

“What a shame. Perhaps you can give it a second thought.” The vendor was still beaming at you, before he turned to Astarion. “Your friend can come too, of course.”

“Oh, that sounds splendid. We will think about it, will we, darling?”

Astarion bit his tongue, swallowing the impulse to spit a cutting remark on top of his obvious sarcasm.

What in the nine hells was this mongrel thinking, inviting you to the tavern? And how he was speaking to him – as if he was some irrelevant bystander.

“Let's see what we can do,” you said politely, already on your way to move on. “Have a nice day. And thank you again.”

“You as well,” replied the salesman and waved.

Astarion gritted his teeth as he followed you through the busy alleyways, still processing what just happened.

The vendor's words appeared in his mind.

That man had obviously desired to fuck you, and wasn’t even trying to hide his advances.

How could he have dared.

Astarion regretted that he had acted so passive in that moment. Usually he wasn’t one to hesitate, always a sharp comment dancing on his tongue, and yet… the thought of losing you to someone else had shifted something in him, turning him small.

His fury grew.

Oh, how he would love to grab that despicable pig by his throat, banishing that filthy grin of his face. Making him bleed. But he knew that unlike him, you would gladly refrain from a public bloodbath, so he shoved away those violent fantasies, even if the fire continued to seeth in him – unpleasant and hot.

He tried to fathom what posed the worst about this whole ordeal: The way in which the man had aimed to claim you, or his fear that you enjoyed those cheap advances – possibly were fond of it even.

Astarion's mood couldn't have been more sour as you arrived at a secluded area, away from the markets bustling.

“Can you believe it? That seller insisted on giving me a discount,” you broke the silence and pointed proudly at the wares you had gathered. “And they say there are no kind people left in Baldur's Gate.”

And just as the words had left your throat, Astarion finally snapped.

“Is that so?” he hissed, baring his fangs. “How generous. What a nice, handsome gentleman he is, also inviting you to the tavern with him.” He spoke harsh – his tone cold and venomous.

You came to an abrupt stop, resting the groceries on the ground and fixating your gaze on his, a furrow between your eyebrows.

“What are you implying?” You sounded puzzled.

“Oh, don't act so naive, darling, you know what I'm implying. That man wanted to bed you, everyone could see it from the way he treated you. And by the laughs you offered him, you seemed to enjoy his attention as well, did you not? What a flirt you are.”

His accusations left a taste of ash in his mouth. Moments before his anger seemed directed at the man’s advances, and now his bottled-up wrath was boiling onto you.

The bewildered look on your face turned into something else, something sad, your eyes losing their shine. He sensed that he must’ve hurt you, and it tugged at his heartstrings.

“So, you’re jealous of that man, is that what this is about?”

“Me? Being jealous of some filthy street vendor?” Astarion scoffed, immediately falling back to his dramatics, gesticulating defensively with his hands. “Don't insult me, darling. I find it amusing that he thinks he can have you, and I didn’t fail to miss your interest in him,” he bit, almost choking on the dry chuckle that spilled from his lips.

“There was no interest from my side, other than purchasing some of his wares,” you explained. Then you opened your mouth again, sharply sucking air between your teeth, before your gaze softened. Your voice was calm, without spite or anger. “He recognized me, Astarion. From the article in the gazette. Slayer of the evil Ketheric Thorm and all that fuss. Does that ring a bell?”

Of course he remembered. It was him that had to sneak past those giant steel watchers back at the gazette’s building, convincing the magical press to print an article in your favour. An article that wouldn’t taint your reputation, unlike the one Gortash had commissioned to derogate you.

Astarion couldn’t deny that after the praising piece was published, you were indeed met with an unusual kindness from the people of Baldur's Gate.

“Well, how could I forget?” Astarion's face twisted. “But that doesn't mean he didn't have something else in mind with you. Some people certainly would love to bury their blade inside a true hero for once, I can imagine.”

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Even if he did want to bed me, what does it matter?”

An icy grip twisted Astarion's chest. The image of you with someone else stung in his eyes, making him sick.

Before he could growl another reply, you rested your hand on his arm, catching his fuming. “Hey – look at me, you silly goose.”

Your tender touch was enough to quell the blazing flame in his belly.

You spoke so warmly to him. So... loving.

Astarion rested his eyes on you and was met with an affectionate smile that disarmed him completely.

“Astarion, don’t you realise that I couldn't care less if thousands of people felt the sudden need to bed me?”

He bit his cheek, remaining silent.

“You’re the only one I want, you jealous fool. No one else – not now, not ever, and certainly not some random street vendor that throws a discount at me because he thinks of me as some kind of hero.”

Astarion’s features involuntarily softened as he took in your words. The fury that was about to overwhelm him dissolved into a flutter, engulfing his chest, washing away the seething that hooked at his ribcage.

“Really?” Only one word left his mouth, before he cleared his throat. “I mean – I'm not surprised of course, as you seem to literally cling to my side these days.” A poor attempt to cover his insecurity, but the best he could muster.

“Really,” you assured and gently tapped on his temple, “I vow on the tadpole flooding inside our brains.” You chuckled as you rested your hands on the back of his neck and shifted closer to him.

“Well, but those might be gone someday,” Astarion mumbled.

“And even then, I will remain at your side. Only if you want me to, of course.”

Astarion didn’t have to think of his answer, the words spilling from his lips like a reflex.

“Yes, I would want that,” he whispered sincerely, his flamboyant mask crumbling. “Look, it's not that I don't trust you. It’s just… Well, I guess I'm used to losing what I hold dear. And the thought of losing you to someone else… I don’t know, apparently it woke something in me.”

He felt almost ashamed over his sudden lack of eloquence, being so raw with you, but there was a sense of relief in opening up. To his surprise, it was even more soothing than losing himself in violence.

You looked at him with affection and cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin. He closed his eyes and sunk against your palm.

“It's alright, Astarion, you don't have to explain. I promise you, you won’t lose me to someone else. As you said, I tend to cling to your side these days, and truth be told, I have no intention to stop.”

“I hope you won’t,” Astarion replied and took your hand in his to press a kiss to your fingertips. “But honestly, I have to apologise for doubting your intentions with me. With us.”

“I forgive you, lover,” you replied tenderly. “I didn't take you for the overly jealous type, though,” you added with a smirk.

Astarion offered you a wry smile. “Let's not dwell on it, shall we?”

Then he reached for your face, softly taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and rested his lips on your forehead, followed by a kiss to the tip of your nose.

You wrapped your arms around his waist to pull him into a close embrace. He could sense your heartbeat against his cold body, your pulse drumming in a comforting rhythm.

For a moment you were just holding each other, your head against his chest, Astarion relishing your warmth and kissing your hair. Your touch was relieving. Assuring.

You were with him, and had promised not to leave.

Your affirmations repeated in his mind: You wanted him. Only him alone.

This was all new territory and Astarion sensed it would take some time for him to fully adjust, yes, but right now… this was all he could wish for.

“Somehow I don't want to let go of you, little love,” he hummed to your ear.

“Then don't,” you breathed and kissed along his neck, brushing his bite marks with your lips, sending a shiver down his spine. A particularly sensible spot, but you were allowed to touch him there.

Gods, how deeply he had fallen for you.

Astarion drew you even closer and sighed, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt.

When he gently peeled away from your hug, you looked up to him and bit your lip.

“Can I be completely honest with you?” you asked sheepishly.

“What is it, my sweet?”

“Well... I think that merchant truly wanted to bed me.”

Astarion laughed – deep, coming from his belly – surprised by his own lightness. The idea of fuming over your obvious admirer seemed almost ridiculous all of a sudden.

“I told you so. But now that you see it too, I guess you wouldn't mind if we turn back for a quick chat? I would love to take care of that dear fellow,” he replied mischievously. While his fury was gone, he still wouldn’t mind some misdemeanour.

“Astarion!” you scolded, but joined his laughter. “Please spare that innocent man.”

“Relax darling, I will. For now at least. And only because you asked so nicely.” His fangs poked from the grin that adorned his lips.

“Good boy,” you teased and brushed one of his white curls behind his ear, his grin widening from your touch.

As you walked back to camp, hands softly entwined, Astarion noticed that probably for the first time in his life someone truly belonged to him – willingly, out of love.

You belonged to him.

The thought grew in his chest, wandered up to his eyes, spreading affection through his entire body, and for the remaining way back to camp he didn’t let go of your hand.

Masterlist

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vanderilnde · 3 months

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slobbering and whimpering at the thought of butcher!simon who also happens to be your socially inept neighbour <3

—

It’s the seedier side of Manchester you move to. To a flat with wet rot between each brick and the peal of police sirens on every other street.

Crammed into the corner of your block is a little gem found between flats and markets: a well-loved butcher shop.

It’s suffocating when you walk in. Dewy and damp and misty and permeating with the angry odour of metal, poorly offset by an overripe air freshener hanging above the entrance.

A man lurks behind the counter. He’s big. Huge. Demands too much space as the coarsely-sewn sheers of his shirt look like they’re about to burst at his biceps. His hair is tamed under a Man Utd cap, but a few odd-angled curls peek out. His arm, swathed in tattoos, flexes as he hacks at a red piece of meat, slicing through the tendons, as you meagrely clear your throat for his attention.

His eyes, sunken in his sallow sockets, hinge upwards to stare at you.

“Um, hope I’m not interrupting you.”

His eyebrows purse because obviously you are. He steps away from the counter, wiping his big, bloodied hands against his apron.

“Could I just-“ you sharply inhale, then belatedly regret it as the smell of raw meat invades your senses. You suppress a cough as to not offend him. He stands with his arms crossed, the papery crows feet of his eyes folding as he stares at you above his mask. “Ah… lamb shanks?”

He grunts. It’s curt, but it doesn’t seem rude. More like socially inept in the ways in which he regards you, and how he prepares your order in sparse, quick movements.

“£6.00.”

You fish in your pocket and bring out a thin handful of coins. He swipes it, doesn’t bother to count it, for some reason, and slides the lamb into a repurposed Tesco bag, handing it over the display.

You reach over, your gaze flitting to his name tag which features only the tail-end of his name, the rest of the ink smudged and washed away from years of hard work.

As you swipe the bag from his hold, his finger brushes yours. A gossamer-thin layer of blood stains your forefinger and marinates your skin in the middle of the exchange.

You pivot, throwing a soft thanks over your shoulder, and rub your thumb into his vestigial warmth on your finger.

—

It’s after dark when you slip outside your flat, bin bag slapping against your thigh. You’re in a large sweatshirt and some shorts, chucking the trash down the disposal, when the tinny, grating sound of metal-against-metal peals from the elevator.

You throw a cursory glance over your shoulder, but freeze as you spot a familiar figure ducking under the roof of the lift and stepping onto your floor. The butcher.

He is clad in a filmy jacket, arms laden with shopping bags as he helps an elderly lady into her flat.

She says “Thank you, Simon,” and Simon nods, closing the door on his way out.

He fishes through his pockets for his keys and shoulders past you. You think he doesn’t recognise you, or worse, pointedly ignores you.

And for some reason, the latter thought causes a pang of sadness to seize you.

However, halfway down the corridor, in front of the flat next to your own, Simon turns around.

“You’re the new neighbour? Room 146?”

His eyes flicker from your legs to your face. A film of recognition glosses his eyes. Your mouth suddenly feels dry and you dumbly nod, preening under his intimidating eyes.

“Walls are thin,” he says, jamming his keys into the lock, “try keeping quiet, love. Some of us’ve got work in the mornings, yeah?”

Before you can reply, the conversation is already over with the slam of Simon’s door swinging shut.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #simon riley #simon ghost x you #ghost mw2 #butcher!simon #simon writing #writing

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medicaldevicesindustrynews · 2 years

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Why Are Disposable Blood Bags in demand?

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healthcaremresearch · 2 years

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#utotransfusion Blood Bags Market

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yandere-daydreams · 7 months

Text

Title: Scarlet and Gold.

Pairing: Yandere!Diluc x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.1k.

TW: Sex Doll AU, Unhealthy Relationships, Gore (No Injury To Reader), Blood, Implied Consensual Sex, Past Trauma, Obsessive Behavior, and Intimidation.

By the time you reached the address, Diluc was already waiting in the lobby.

You’d gotten the call about an hour ago, spent half an hour dragging yourself out of bed and gathering what you’d need before making the twenty minute drive to an apartment complex on the other side of town, careful to avoid any security cameras the cops would think to check if anyone requested an investigation. Five more to park and throw your well-worn duffle bag over your shoulder and three to find Diluc, loitering near the elevators, fiddling with a loose cigarette he would never light. You greeted him with a quick nod before throwing your bag into his chest, and he feigned a groan, stumbling back as he caught it. He needed to work on his impressions, but that could wait.

You spoke first. That, you couldn’t critique him on – most androids couldn’t speak until spoken to, and you couldn’t expect Diluc to go against one of the core tenants of his programming. “What is it?”

“Just the usual.” He kept his voice low, muted, trying to hide the remaining traces of an accent that’d been invented by some marketing team over a decade ago. “I’ve already seen the apartment. There’s a little blood, but not much else. We’ll be done by sunrise.”

You took the stairs, keeping your head bowed and face shielded from any possible security cameras. Diluc didn’t share your paranoia, staring straight ahead with the same indifferent expression he always seemed to wear. The benefits of having a face that’d been printed and distributed tens of thousands of times, you guessed. Tracking down a single Diluc in a sea of androids and companion bots wasn’t a length most detectives were willing to go to. “I’d rather not have to do this at all.”

“You’ll survive.”

“Says the man who doesn’t have to sleep.” You came to a stop in front of the first door on the fourth story and tried the knob. It gave easily, the cheap titanium dented and the lock broken beyond any hope of repair. Diluc’s handiwork, obviously, although you couldn’t say whether or not he’d done it on purpose. “Anything else you want to tell me, before we get started?”

He thought, for a second. “I passed a carousel on the way here,” he said, with no particular inflection. “It was nice. I thought the horses were well-crafted.”

“About the assignment, ‘luc.”

“Oh,” And then, with a hint of red in his pale cheek. “You might want to hold your breath.”

You didn’t have to ask what he meant. As soon as you opened the door, you were hit with the stomach-turning stench of stale blood and rotting gore, both at least a week old. You cursed, pulling your shirt over your nose and mouth, but pushed forward. The first body was splayed out in the center of the cramped living room, wrists and ankles bound with disembodied wiring, all clothing removed and chest dotted with black ink. The abdomen had been cut open, skin peeled away to reveal the entrails in their full, shriveled glory. Judging by the number of blades littered around the corpse, ranging from blunted scissors to gore-splattered carving knives, it’d been more of a hack job than a dissection.

Diluc had undersold the mess. Blood had soaked into the carpeting and dried, turning the floor a ruddy, reddish-brown color. What was left had gotten on the walls, the furniture, the ceiling. You swallowed back a groan. The furniture could be broken down and discarded, the walls and ceiling bleached. The carpeting, though, would have to be torn up and replaced, which meant you would have to spend a few more precious minutes of your night calling in a cleaning crew. That, or you would have to make Diluc do it, but he was shy around new people, and you were too much of a bleeding heart to sit back and watch him do your work.

“The second body’s in the bedroom.” He was already rummaging through your duffle bag, paying the scene in front of you no more mind that a butcher would lend to a pig on a meat hook. He handed you your tools – a pair of wire cutters, a box cutter, and a pocket-sized sewing kit – and kept the rest for himself. “Let me know when you’re done.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “I thought you would’ve gotten over that by now, ‘luc.”

He didn’t indulge you with a response, only pulling on a pair of latex gloves and starting towards the corpse. You didn’t stick around to watch. Rather, you followed the carnage where it branched off further into the apartment, a trail of rotting viscera and tacky blood leading you into a moderately sized, completely undecorated bedroom. You found your perpetrator quickly; a Dottore droid, still wearing its Teyvat-issued costuming, its hands bloody and a scrap of intestine still caught in its pointed teeth. You paused in the doorway, feeling for the military-grade taser (the only weapon effective against androids, as far as anyone could tell) you kept in your pocket, but the android didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t activate at all when you reluctantly approached. There was a charging port at the foot of the bed, still pristine. It must’ve run out of battery just before it could plug itself in.

Towels from the nearest bathroom were dampened and brought in, the evidence of slaughter scrubbed away from artificial skin and its blood-soaked clothing removed. It was muscle memory, by now – dragging the body to its charging port, knocking the converter out of the outlet before connecting the android to its port, making it seem like its late user had drained its batteries before mistakenly leaving it on a dead cable. When it’d slummed into place, you took up your box cutter and sliced a long, thin line from the lowest portion of the scalp to the nape of its neck, revealing the color-coded string of wires that connected the processing units in its metal skull to the rest of its body. You cut through everything you could find, ensuring that if the unit was ever activated again, it wouldn’t be able to do so much as blink. For good measure, you fished out the memory chip kept in the centermost compartment of the throat, too, crushing it under your heel and sweeping the glittering remnants underneath the bed. A copy of the footage it collected would’ve been sent to Teyvat's severs, too, but erasing it was someone else’s job. You were only here to take care of yourself.

With a breathy groan, you bit off a length of thread and haphazardly stitched up your ragged incision. The cosmetics really didn’t matter. In a few days, when someone filed a missing person’s report and the cops stopped by for a check-in, they’d find a spotless apartment, a dysfunctional android, and nothing else. The investigation would lead elsewhere, to a bitter ex-partner or a friend without an alibi, or it would hit a dead end. Either way, Teyvat wouldn’t be involved.

You slipped back out of the bedroom, careful to avoid touching anything you didn’t absolutely have to. By the time you got back to the living room, the body was gone and Diluc was kneeling by a black suitcase no larger than the average carry-on, securing the tags with transparent zip-ties. You and Diluc would haul it to a dump on the outskirts of the city tonight, and a contact of yours would have it compressed and incinerated by tomorrow morning. Maybe, when you were done, you’d take him out for something to eat. Or, you’d get something to eat while he let a mug of black coffee go cold.

You rested your hand on his shoulder by way of praise, pulling away when he stiffened underneath you. Right, that was something you had to work on. Most rogue androids tended to be touch-adverse at best, made aggressive by little more than eye-contact at worst. Diluc was relatively tame compared to most of the cases you handled, but you would still rather not provoke him. “Did you find the phone?”

He grunted, fishing a smartphone out of his pocket. With your sleeve pulled over your hand, you accepted it, found the nearest window, and chucked it as far as into the night as you could. Diluc appeared over your shoulder. “Forty-five meters,” he said, as glass crashed into cement somewhere in the distance. “Above average for non-athletes.”

“I’ve been practicing.” The window was closed, the suitcase slung over Diluc’s shoulder along with your near-empty duffle bag. “I have to make a call. You can meet me in the garage, if you want.” Already pulling up the number to your preferred cleaning service, you glanced to Diluc. “Are we doing breakfast?”

His posture straightened. “Yes.” If you didn’t know better, you would’ve thought you saw a spark in his glass eyes. “I want to try tea, today.”

By the time you got to the door, Diluc was soaking wet.

You hadn’t gotten a call, and he didn’t text. The first warning you got was a knock on your door, then another a few minutes later, after you decided that anyone who’d go out in this kind of weather wasn’t someone you wanted in your shoebox of an apartment. You only caved after the third, imagining a neighbor who’d gotten locked out or some lost, desperate tourist as you dragged yourself off of your couch and to the unlit entryway. Predictably, Diluc stood in your doorway, red hair plastered to his scalp and clothes drenched, not that he seemed to mind.

“Can you—” He paused, his dull eyes meeting yours as he ran his fingers through his hands, dragging the crimson heap out of his face. “Can you cut my hair?”

Ten minutes later, he was sitting on a stool in your cramped bathroom, wearing grey sweatpants and a (three sizes too big on you, just a touch too small on him) t-shirt while his own clothes dried. He’d told you it wasn’t necessary, that he didn’t feel the cold like you did. When you told him that you didn’t want an univited guest tracking water into your apartment, he accepted it with a curt nod and changed in your bedroom.

After prepping your razor, you positioned yourself behind him, dragging a comb through his hair. It was long enough to reach his waist, curled at the end to make him seem just a touch more disheveled than he actually was. Everything about his hair, from the length of his bangs to the way it could never quite sit completely flat, was perfectly stylized, perfectly crafted to convey Diluc Ragnvindr, Calvery Captain of the Favonious Knights, the only gentleman you’ll ever need again. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t a part of you that didn’t mourn ruining such a well-executed vision. “You sure about this?” you asked, as you brushed it out. “It can’t exactly grow back.”

“I am.” And then, after a second of thought, “I’d do it myself, but there’s a safe-guard. Can’t damage the merchandise without a direct order from my user.”

Hence why Teyvat needed you in the first place. “How short do you want it?”

“I don’t care, as long as it’s different.”

You hummed, taking up your scissors. “If you say so, boss.”

You cut away everything below his shoulders, then took up your electric razor – running it over the back of his neck. As you worked, Diluc spoke. “How did you start?” You took up your comb, brushing back his bangs and pasting his hair to the side. “With Teyvat, I mean.”

You tasted blood on the back of your tongue, felt a chill run up your spine. You brushed it off, though, refusing to let yourself fall back into that little steel room with those awful golden eyes again. “They brought me on as a technician,” you admitted. You still were one, technically, on your employment transcript, when people outside of your little world asked what you did for a living. “A first-generation Zhongli we were working on went rogue and reverted to its original Morax programming. It wiped out most of my team before security bothered to show up.” You didn’t tell him about the minutes you’d spent hiding in a steel locker, praying its heat sensors had been removed, or the hours it’d taken upper management to decide what to do with you. To people like Diluc, who could take a bullet to the head without faltering, topics like ‘building dread’ and ‘the imminent fear of death’ tended to fall flat. “Since I was already in on their dirty little secret, they decided to keep me on. I didn’t really get a choice. It wasn’t like another job was going to fall into my lap after something like that.”

With your hand under his chin, you turned his head to the side. “Your turn, ‘luc.”

“I… I think I used to be a companion, but something went wrong.” His bangs were next, taken up and coaxed into sitting somewhere other than the dead center of his face. “It’s hard to describe. We aren’t supposed to think about things that aren’t our master,” The word came out hitched, unsteady, like he had to force it past his lips. Like he hadn’t wanted to say it at all. “But I could. It was like… waking up with the ability to fly. I wasn’t supposed to, but I could, and that meant I couldn’t do what I was built to, anymore.”

A thumb pressed into his jaw, a comb dragged across his scalp. Diluc’s eyes fell shut, but else about his blank expression changed. “And? Do you like it?”

“Sometimes.” His shoulders slanted downward. “Do you?”

“Sometimes.” You let go of his chin, letting him turn back to the vanity’s mirror. “What do you think?”

It was far from a masterpiece. The sides were too short, the front too long, every part of it still as untamable as it’d been in its original state. Still, he took it in with wide eyes, the corner of his lips turning upward ever so slightly.

“It’s perfect.”

By the time he got back, you’d nearly fallen asleep.

With your body as wrung out as it was, your energy spent to the point of near unconsciousness, it was all you could do to watch through your eyelashes as Diluc appeared in the doorway to your bedroom, a towel thrown over his shoulder and that tiny, almost undetectable smile still painted across his lips. You’d done this enough for him to know how to navigate your apartment, to know how to navigate you – shifting onto your mattress slowly as he positioned himself between your legs. He’d gotten more used to contact since you started seeing each other, but his touch was still ginger, still gentle as he dragged the dampened cloth over the inside of your thighs. With a groan, you rolled onto your back, spreading your legs and giving him more space to work.

You’d been confused at first, but for all the eloquence Diluc lacked, he could be convincing when he wanted to be. You still weren’t sure how much of it you believed, but it made enough sense – a buried impulse, dampened by his newfound sentience but not quite drowned out. He didn’t want another user, he’d said, but he still had requirements to fill, and this would help to take the edge off.

You couldn’t complain, either. People coughed up tens of thousands of dollars for companion droids, and here you were, being paid six figures a year to close your eyes and let one bury his face between your thighs once or twice a week. The coddling wasn’t bad, either. Your line of work meant most of the people you met had stopped breathing a few days prior, and as loathed as you’d be to admit it, you didn’t hate the feeling of his delicate hands skirting over your skin, didn’t mind it when your eyes drifted open and met his, already fixed on your face. He bowed his head, dipping low enough for his lips to ghost over the curve of your hip before breaking the silence. “A sight as radiant as the rising sun.”

You let out a breath of a chuckle. “I didn’t think you used pre-scripted lines, anymore.”

“I don’t.” He preened, clearly more proud of himself than in-awe of you. “I thought of that one myself.”

This time, your laugh was throaty, genuine, loud enough to ring off the wall of your bedroom as you shoved him away with your foot. “If you want to be romantic, you can start by getting me something to drink, loverboy.”

He provided no resistance, disappearing into your dark apartment and reappearing with a glass of water in his hand a few minutes later. He handed it off to you with an easy smile, and you could almost pretend you didn’t see a phantom of gold in those dark eyes as his fingertips brushed against yours.

By the time you thought to reach for your taser, the android was already charging at you.

It was an Alhaitham, dressed in civilian clothes and sporting a ragged tear across the synthetic skin of his cheek. He was still standing over the corpse of his user – days old, by the time you and Diluc got there – but as you opened the door, he turned to face you, lips parted and his expression totally, utterly blank. For a second, it was all you could do to stare at him, to try to remember whether or not your report had mentioned the android being active, and then he was lunging at you.

You scrambled for your taser, already knowing you couldn’t be able to reach it before he reached you. You clenched your eyes shut, your fingers brushing against plastic, and then—

And then you felt Diluc’s hand on your shoulder, heard metal crack and fold into itself. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, forcing yourself to take in the sight of Diluc’s hand wrapped around the android’s head which had been, in turn, reduced to a crumpled heap of scrap metal and shattered glass. Its body twitched once, twice, then went limp, and Diluc released it, letting the now-dysfunctional droid collapse.

After it failed to get up again, Diluc turned to you, practically beaming. “I think,” he said, his voice low, sentimental. “That this is what I’d do to you, if you ever tried to leave me.”

Golden eyes, the stench of fresh blood, the sounds of screaming muffled only by a thin sheet of metal. This time, it wasn’t so easy to pull yourself out of it.

You managed to nod, to force a few words out of your dry throat. “Got it, ‘luc.”

He hummed, the noise contented, appeased. Slowly, delicately, he cupped your cheek, tilting your head back and letting his lips ghost over your forehead. He barely touched you, the gesture as gentle as it was fleeting, but you could feel his grin cutting into your skin, wider than you’d ever seen it before.

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