#but then he would have just got so overwhelmed

[dollfacefantasy]

wearing leon's hoodie during sex… he’s fucking u from behind and pushes the hoodie up to reveal your back… he grabs the top of the hoodie for leverage, and to pull you closer…

uh huh uh huh. i see your vision so here's a little drabble <3

leon kennedy x fem!reader

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v

It starts when Leon comes home from running some errands. He's kind of riled up. There was traffic, it was too cold out, there was people everywhere, and it seemed like he was the only one who knew what he was doing. He slams the front door and tosses his keys on the counter, letting out an irritated sigh and stomping up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

But there you are. His baby. Tucked away safe from the rest of the world. His beam of sunshine among the gray clouds that pollute the sky today.

You're laying on the bed, curled up with a blanket and gazing at the tv with only half your attention. Long legs lie exposed, soft from the strawberry scented lotion you'd lathered them in. Best of all, you're wearing his hoodie. An article of his clothing.

He tries to be casual about getting what he wants. He attempts pleasantries, acts like the shedding of his clothes is innocent. He's only doing it to be comfy enough to join you in your lazy day.

Not even thirty minutes later though, you're face down, head pressed to the pillow, ass raised in the air. His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips as he sheaths himself all the way inside you. You whine as your hole stretches around his length, accepting the intrusion. Your fingers claw at the fluffy blanket beneath you as he starts thrusting.

In and out, back and forth. It seems like each time he hits a new pleasure spot or coaxes another needy whine from your lips.

"That's right, baby. Feels so good, doesn't it?" he grunts as he pumps his cock as deep as it can go within you.

"Mhm," you whimper your voice shaky.

"Uh huh," he agrees. The sound of him panting combined with the slap of his skin on yours overwhelms your brain. "Who's fucking you this good, honey? Who's got you making all those cute little noises?"

The response is automatic. "You," you choke out as your body rocks with his momentum.

"Who?" he prompts you, wanting specificity.

Your words falter for a moment under the pressure of him rutting into your soaked cunt, but you regain the ability to speak before he could ask again.

"Leon," you whine, dragging out the ending sound.

He mumbles some words of praise, but they fly right over your head. His thoughts weren't on what he was saying either. He was much more focused on hearing you cry out his name while his eyes locked on the space between your shoulder blades.

On the fabric of the hoodie in that area, Kennedy was emblazoned in vinyl. It stood out in bright white on the soft black cloth. You were his. There was the physical and verbal proof. He pistons into you at a quicker speed as the primal part of his brain starts to take over. The part that just wanted to claim you and keep you as his own held the reins now.

Your eyes start to gloss up as thoughts melt away in your brain and drip from your mouth as drool. Your cheek squishes further into the mattress below. Everything is getting to that point where it feels fuzzy and far away. And you're content with that. You're content to just melt into a puddle of euphoria on the bed, but Leon had other ideas for you.

He bunches the hood of his hoodie together, handling it like he would a leash. Then with a firm tug, you're straight up on your knees. Your back is arched so your ass is flush against his pelvis while your head bobbles around near his.

"Oh fuck, baby..." you cry, "So fucking deep now."

He chuckles and yanks you even closer. The new angle did have him even further within you. If it wasn't for his hand supporting you, there was no doubt in your mind you'd flop forward and face plant into the memory foam.

His hips snap as though they're possessed, not stopping for the slightest break. Both of you are starting to work up a sweat, you a little more so from the thick fabric that covered your upper half.

"Mhm. All the way inside you. And I'm the only one who's ever gonna feel this," he mumbles.

"Only you," you agree without a second thought.

You can't speak anymore than that because your voice has devolved into pure moaning. Soft little cries of ecstasy leave you over and over as he fills you up just as many times.

"Want you to cum for me, baby. Milk me fucking dry so I can mark you on the inside too," he mutters.

And that's all it takes really. The thought of being claimed so thoroughly does it for you, and you seize up on command. Every part of you contracts and tightens up, including your pussy, locking him in.

That's what does it for him. The knowledge that you want to be claimed, that you love that you're all his. He shoots all his release inside you, not letting a drop go to waste.

Afterwards, he takes care to clean you up, actually ask about your day while he gets you comfy again. The sweat-soaked hoodie ends up in the laundry, and the two of you curl up in bed, together this time. If he didn't get off on the possessive part of this whole thing so much, he'd probably just buy you one of those hoodies for yourself. You were gonna be a Kennedy in no time anyways.

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil smut

[erwinsvow]

knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.

it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.

in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.

“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 

“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.

“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?

“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 

when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.

“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”

“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.

“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 

“wh-rafe!” 

but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.

he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.

“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 

you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.

when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?

it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.

“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 

“what’s that?”

“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”

“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”

and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 

“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”

it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 

“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.

“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.

#lol <3 this has been in the drafts for SO LONG #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #what should we call her #wifey reader

[hawkinsbnbg]

See, Eddie had always been bad at flirting if not a disaster at it. And it didn't help when he had a bad habit of going dumb around Steve Harrington—the boy of his dream, the muse of his soul, the sun of his flowers, and the light of his life.

At this point, it was inevitable that whatever he managed to say to Steve always ended up sounding awkward or worse, ominous.

"Why are you staring?" Steve cocked an eyebrow at him, hazel eyes gleaming in amusement.

They were having a movie night at the Munson’s new apartment after holding one at Steve’s just last week.

And as usual, Eddie’s attention was on the other boy, unable to stop gazing at that lovely face.

Sometimes, Eddie still felt like he was hallucinating whenever he hung out with Steve. Because, never in his wildest dream, he would see himself being friends with King Steve.

And yet, against all odds, after surviving Hell together, they had become fast friends and stayed like that for months. These days, Eddie could confidently say that he was Steve's best friend besides Robin.

Then again, he was quite sure Steve wouldn't give him The Moves™️—lips biting, eyes glancing up through lashes, knees squeezing, hips knocking, hands holding—if they were just friends.

So. Flirting.

If only Eddie was all suave and smooth, he bet they would be boyfriends by now, and not whatever that had been going on between them these last few months.

Sorry for staring but your eyes are so beautiful; they’re the most priceless gemstones in the world, sweet candies that I want to possess, a hazel sky that I want to keep drowning in, was all Eddie wanted to say.

But instead, he blurted out. "I wanna lick your eyeballs.”

Horrified, Eddie slapped a hand over his mouth before quickly correcting his grave mistake.

"Wait– I didn't mean that," he flailed his hands around in panic and tried to explain to a wide-eyed Steve. "I meant, I want to keep your eyes to myself– No, that sounds so creepy, oh my god–"

"Hey, hey, it's okay," Steve straightened from his comfy position on the couch and held Eddie's hands gently. "Calm down, Eds. Just take your time. I promise I won't go anywhere."

Eddie nodded, heart beating fast under the attention of those warm and kind doe-eyes.

Eventually, he got a grip on himself and turned his hands so he could lace them with Steve. Theirs were about the same size but always fitted so well together like gloves.

Eddie looked up to meet Steve's patient gaze. He took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. The success rate was sixty percent, which was enough for him to work with.

"I uhm, like your eyes a lot,” he cleared his throat slightly. “So can I take you on a date tomorrow?"

In a fleeting second, he feared for a rejection. But then, Steve smiled at him, sweet and pretty, and Eddie was done for.

"My shift lasts until four, so you can pick me up then," Steve gave his hands a light squeeze.

Overwhelmed with joy, Eddie pulled the other boy into his lap to kiss him silly.

Later, they moved into Eddie's bedroom to continue their making out session without worrying about being walked in on by Wayne.

He hunched over Steve with those long legs wrapping around his lower back, and kept peppering Steve's face with kisses because he could never have enough of him.

"Should've," a kiss on the forehead. "Done," a kiss on the eyelid. "This," a kiss on the nose. "Sooner," another kiss on the cheek.

Steve giggled and threaded his fingers into Eddie's hair to pull him down into another tender kiss.

When they parted again, they were both blushing and panting.

Eddie had to refrain himself from grinding against Steve, knowing he wouldn't be able to keep his pants on once he succumbed to the siren's call.

Steve didn't share the same sentiments as him, however, when those legs tightened and forced Eddie to scoot in closer, making their clothed erections press into each other.

Even through multiple layers of denim, Eddie still felt the delicious friction that lit him up like wildfire.

"God, you're killing me, sweetheart," Eddie groaned and pecked those pouty lips, red and swollen like sin.

"Haunt me then," Steve whispered and rolled his hips, tempting and alluring. "Make me remember."

Eddie didn't say anything. He didn't need to. He just surrendered himself to the siren's call and got lost in the sweet paradise that was Steve Harrington.

Afterward, as Eddie was stroking Steve's naked back absently, he pressed a kiss on Steve's forehead.

"Think we should take it slow, baby?"

"If that's what you want, Eds," Steve shrugged slightly. Then, in a small voice, he glanced up from where he was pillowing on Eddie's chest. "You'll tell me if I move too fast, 'kay?"

"The last thing I'm gonna complain about is you, baby boy," Eddie snorted and tucked a stray hair behind Steve's ear. "I just wanna hear your opinions about our relationship is all."

This time, it was Steve's turn to snort. "Haven't been on a date yet, and here we're already talking about our relationship."

"Yeah," Eddie chuckled. "We're kinda doing things out of order right now," he gave Steve's forehead another small kiss. "But you were an impatient little thing, sweetheart. Can't imagine what you would've done to me if I hadn't given in earlier."

"Don't pretend like you haven't been desperate to lay your hands on me," Steve rolled his eyes with a quiet huff.

"Keep doing that and you're gonna see how desperate I am, doll face," Eddie said huskily.

"Is that a threat?" Steve raised his eyebrow in challenge, hazel eyes gleaming impishly. "Because it's not working on me, honey."

Eddie's lips stretched into a wide grin and before Steve could taunt him again, he started tickling the other boy.

In the end, Steve had won the tickle war and Eddie had blown him off as a reward.

To no one’s surprise, they managed to go through another round, and by the time they finished, Steve was too out of it to tease Eddie anymore.

The morning after, he had woken up with Steve in his arms.

Once Steve roused, they had made out a bit too long in the bed, exchanged toes-curling handjobs in the bathroom, and had breakfast together with Wayne before leaving for work.

When the time rolled in, Eddie might be a bit too eager to give Steve everything, because he had gone a little overboard for their date night.

But all in all, Steve had enjoyed the dinner Eddie prepared and given him the most legs-shaking blowjob ever when they were watching TV on the couch.

Later that night, having Steve snore blissfully in his arms, Eddie decided that the date was more than a success.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie is a simp #disaster gay eddie munson #but also #smooth eddie munson #when he finally got his shit together #sionewrites

[btsqualityy]

BTS Dating Series #17: Pet Peeves

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: Little things that just....annoy you or him about each other.

Warnings: None to note.

Kim Seokjin

You threw your body into a chair in the corner of your bedroom, folding your arms across your chest as Jin stared at you incredulously. The two of you had been in a somewhat heated disagreement and once you started to feel yourself becoming overwhelmed, you chose to just...stop talking in an effort to calm yourself.

"Are you really gonna not say anything else?" Jin wondered, huffing harshly when you only responded with further silence. "You know, that's another thing that you do that I hate."

"What?" You couldn't help but to ask.

"Any time we have an argument or even a hard conversation, you clam up and stop talking," he explained. "That makes it almost impossible to fix anything and it also makes me feel like some type of villain."

"Oh," you murmured, looking down at your feet. "I didn't realize that it made you feel that way. I just..."

"What?" Jin encouraged as he stepped over to you and bent down so that he was looking up at you.

"In past relationships, whenever I would get chastised or yelled at, I found that not saying anything helped to not escalate things," you admitted, finally looking up at your boyfriend. "I don't want things to escalate with you, Jin."

"Oh baby," he murmured, grabbing your hands and bringing them both up to his mouth, pressing soft kisses to them before he pulled them away to speak. "You never have to worry about that with me. Whenever we're disagreeing about something, it's never me against you. It's us against the problem, ok? It doesn't mean that I hate you or that I don't want to be with you because that would never be the case, ok?"

"Ok," you nodded. "I'm sorry for shutting down on you. I'll do my best to work on that."

"Ok," Jin agreed. "I love you."

"I love you too," you replied before leaning down and kissing him softly.

Min Yoongi

"Are you fucking serious right now?" Yoongi chuckled in disbelief and you barely spared him a glance from your spot on his living room couch. You and Yoongi had planned to spend the whole weekend together since it was one of his rare ones off. However, he got called into the studio at the last minute and had to go handle it before you two headed out on your planned date for the day.

Now, that wasn't a problem for you whatsoever because Yoongi said he'd text you when he was heading back home. One hour went by, then two hours and by the time the third hour rolled around, you were throughly pissed off. Once he did finally make it back to his apartment where he'd left you, you had become resolute in giving him the silent treatment.

"Do you know how childish you're acting right now?" Yoongi wondered. "I know that I told you it wouldn't take me long and I'm sorry that it did but you can't be this upset over that!"

"You cannot tell me what I can and cannot be upset over," you finally spoke up.

"Oh look, she speaks." You glared at him, throwing him the middle finger before you folded your arms across your chest. All Yoongi could do was groan loudly as he ran his hands over his face, becoming more irritated as time went on.

"Listen, I do not do well with the silent treatment and I hate it when you do this so if you want me to fix it, you're going to have to cooperate and talk to me or else I won't be able to," he shrugged. "Up to you." You sighed heavily then, knowing that you were being petty and that your boyfriend was right.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I just got upset when you took longer than you said you would. Made it feel like you forgot about me."

"I could never forget about you," he cooed, bending down so that he was squatting in front of you as he took your hands in his to hold. "I'm sorry that I didn't keep you in the loop. I'll make sure to be more mindful of that, ok?" You nodded with a smile, surging forward and throwing your arms around him in a hug.

Kim Namjoon

"If you would just listen to me, I'd be able to explain it to you!" You exclaimed angrily as you stared at Namjoon, who was standing on the other side of the island in your kitchen. The two of you had been cooking dinner together when you made what was intended to be a light hearted joke about his cooking skills. However, Namjoon didn't take it that way at all which led to a full blown argument.

"You can be so flippant when you say certain things to me, you know?" Namjoon pointed out.

"Me, flippant?" You scoffed, throwing your hands up in immediate surrender. "And on that note, I need some space." You turned around and began to walk out of the kitchen but you realized that you could hear footsteps behind you.

"And that's another thing," Namjoon snapped. "Anytime we get into an argument or fight, you insist on walking away."

"Because I need space!" You shouted as you turned around to look at him. "I literally just said that or were you not listening?"

"We're not gonna fix anything if you keep doing that."

"But we're also not going to fix anything if I can't take the space I need to calm down so that I'm not escalating the situation," you explained. "I know you wanna talk it out but just....give me a little while."

"Fine," Namjoon relented and he turned around and walked away before you even had the chance to say another word.

Jung Hoseok

"It was so good to see you!" Hobi smiled to Juhyun, who grinned widely as Hobi gave her a gentle hug.

"It was good to see you as well, Hobi," she replied before turning around and walking out of the store. Hobi walked back over to you then, where you had been pretending to browse the store's selection of shoes but you had really been eavesdropping on their conversation.

"See anything you might like?" Hobi asked you and you shrugged noncommittally, biting your lip before you decided to just take the risk and ask what was on your mind.

"Can I ask you something?" You wondered.

"Anything."

"Are you still friends with all of your exes?" You questioned and Hobi rose an eyebrow.

"Well, I don't know if friends is the word I'd really use to describe it," he began. "Even if we broke up, none of them were necessarily on bad terms or anything like that so it's not hard for me to speak to them whenever I might see them."

"Hmm," you murmured and Hobi couldn't help but to smile at you.

"Jealous?"

"Don't know if jealous is really the word I'd use," you replied, echoing his previous statement. "But it does make me feel weird that you're.....so friendly. I don't like it."

"So, should I keep it to a hi and bye?" He asked. "And no hugs?"

"That actually would be nice," you nodded.

"Done," Hobi grinned. "Now, come on. I wanted to check out another store while we're here." You smiled to yourself as Hobi grabbed your hand and led you out of the store.

Park Jimin

You were laid out in Jimin's bed, waiting for him to get home from rehearsal. You had had an extremely long day at work so needless to say, you were more than excited to see your boyfriend so that you could get all the cuddles that you could handle.

As you were browsing the internet on your laptop, you heard the front door open and close and not long after that, Jimin was pushing open the door to the bedroom.

"Hi Jimin-ssi," you greeted him happily, watching as he threw his bag down and instantly walked over to the closet.

"Hi baby," he muttered as he worked on changing out of his dance clothes and into more comfortable ones. As he did this, you closed the laptop and set it on the bedside table before you laid down on your side. Once Jimin was done changing, he walked over to the bed and laid down on his back, shutting his eyes and not saying a word.

"How was your day?" You spoke up and Jimin just shrugged, eyes still closed.

"Same old, same old."

"Did you guys finish learning the choreography to that new song you showed me?" You wondered and Jimin nodded. "Aw, I'm sure it's amazing. I can't wait to see it." Jimin still hadn't said a word and you sighed heavily. "Jimin, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," he deadpanned. "I'm fine."

"Baby, you're obviously not fine," you replied gently. "I'm willing to listen if you want to talk."

"Well, I don't want to talk," he grunted. "Just leave me alone."

"You know, I was really looking forward to you getting here because I had a long day too and all I wanted was to cuddle with you but if you're going to be a jerk just because you're in a shitty mood, then I'll just go home," you snapped and just as you moved to rip the blanket off of your body, Jimin gently grabbed your arm.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "It was just a hard day and I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"And that's fair that you didn't feel like talking but don't clam up on me," you murmured as you turned around to face him. "I'm here to help, always."

"I know," he smiled gently. "Come here." He opened his arms and you moved closer to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you as he held your body tightly to his. "I love you."

"I love you too," you whispered, smiling to yourself when you felt him kiss your forehead.

Kim Taehyung

"Oh my gosh, you know what we should do tonight?" Taehyung asked you and you looked up at him from your spot next to him on his couch. The two of you had planned on just having a date night in but apparently, Taehyung had other ideas.

"What?"

"We should get dressed and go to that new jazz club that just opened last month," he suggested and you instantly grimaced. "What is it?"

"I don't know about that," you replied. "I was kind of looking forward to staying in."

"But we've been doing that for so many weekends now," he pointed out. "It might be fun to get out, have a little change of scenery."

"Hmm, I don't think so," you shook your head and your eyes widened when you heard Taehyung sigh heavily.

"Why don't you ever want to go out?" He demanded to know. "I could probably count on one hand how often we've been out together, just to do something fun."

"I'm a homebody," you shrugged. "I've always preferred to be home to than go out to some club or something like that."

"And I fully respect that but couldn't we do it sometimes?" He suggested. "Just occasionally?"

"You know what, yeah," you agreed. "I promise, I'll try to make sure that we do more of the things you enjoy too, ok?"

"Thank you," Taehyung grinned widely before leaning over and kissing you firmly.

Jeon Jungkook

"What the hell?" You muttered as you picked pieces of clothes up off of the living room floor. "Has a man been staying with me or a fucking animal?" In an effort to spend more time together, Jungkook had been spending more time at your apartment and he had definitely made himself comfortable in your space. Maybe even a little...too comfortable.

"Baby, I have lamb skewers!" Jungkook exclaimed as he stepped through the front door of your apartment, one bag in each hand as he shut the door with his foot. He stopped right in his tracks though when he saw you standing in the middle of the living room with an unamused look on your face. "What's wrong?"

"No, the problem is what's wrong with you?" You demanded to know. "Have you never seen a hamper? Do you not know what it looks like so that you can put your clothes in it?"

"No, those are my clean clothes," he told you.

"Why are they on the floor then?"

"Because I didn't want them to get mixed up with my dirty ones," he shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Why not just put the dirty in the- you know what, no," you cut yourself off. "I'm not even gonna attempt to understand male logic. Just give me my skewers, please."

"Here you go," Jungkook smiled, waiting until you had dropped the clothes in your hands before he handed one of the bags off to you. "I love you."

"Yeah yeah, love you too, messy animal," you grumbled, making Jungkook laugh out loud.

..........................................................

Tag List: @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

#bts #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts jin #bts yoongi #bts suga #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts jhope #bts hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts v #bts jungkook #jin x reader #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts x reader

[disneyprincemuke]

dancing with your ghost * cl16

the ghost of your relationship lingers in your old apartment, reminding you of what's lost

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

notes: today, i got an anon ask asking if i was allergic to happiness so this one is dedicated to u babes,, i'm doubling down

(f1 masterlist)

there is something different about the air in the kitchen when you walk in. your heart hits the floor. it takes a minute to realise why you’ve avoided this room the entire time you’ve been back home in new york.

upon your move to los angeles to kickstart your career, you’d left the apartment vacant until you were ready to face the truth. that you’d now fallen out of the relationship you once poured your entire self into.

you rest your head on the door frame, watching your entire relationship unfold in visions in this tiny apartment, once shared with the person you now know nothing about.

you stood over the counter and charles held you from behind with his chin resting on your shoulder. “please be careful,” he hummed sweetly, “the knife is so big and we can’t have another er trip. we can’t afford it.”

you laughed and threw your head back on his shoulder. you looked up at him with an overwhelming warmth in your chest. “well, it would be hard to make dinner with a smaller knife,” you giggled along with him.

charles pressed a tender kiss on your shoulder before he pulled away. you remember looking over your shoulder as you chased for his warmth — you’d never gotten used to the cold of new york — and he just smiled at you as he poured himself a glass of water. “i just don’t want you to get hurt.”

his smile reached his eyes and at the time, you knew that he clearly felt the same way. you often wonder when that started to change.

when did he start lying when he’d say he loves you, or when did the spark in his eyes when looking at you disappear? had you truly been so blind to not notice that he started to spite you eventually?

you remember the kitchen used to be the brightest room in your apartment, always complaining about how hard it was to cook once the sun had set. one day, charles made his way out and got you white lights to ease your difficulty.

you look at it now and it is barely recognisable. two out of the five lights are no longer working and one flickers above your head.

you can hear echoes of giggling in the back of your head. you turn around and your attention is immediately caught by the piano at the far end of the room. you hear the melodies hang in the air like they’d always been stuck there, cursed to never be heard by the masses after you’d pushed it into a box in your mind.

you drag your feet over to the piano, dimly lit by one of the salt lamps you and charles had gotten at a market one sleepless night. you lift the cover with a sigh. you run your fingers over the keys carefully, as if afraid that it would crumble along with the bittersweet memories of hours spent sitting in the seat that came with it.

charles found you sitting here on one of your sleepless nights, aimlessly playing around with a melody that had been bugging you all day. you laughed when you noticed him stalking you from the small crack of your bedroom door pulled open.

“i’m sorry,” you frowned, “did i wake you with all of this?”

“no,” he shook his head with a smile and his arms folded over his chest. he walked over to you. “please, don’t let me interrupt. i loved that.”

you sighed and slumped your shoulders as a blush crept up your cheeks. “that’s all i currently have. i’ve been stuck here all day.”

he hummed and rested his arms on your shoulders and bore his eyes onto the monotonous keys of the piano you shared. “you say that all the time, but you eventually figure it out.”

“can you help me?” you prompted. you lifted your fingers from the keys and wrapped them around his hands, turning slightly to press a kiss to the back of his hand. “you’re the only one i trust that wouldn’t ruin the melody.”

“my help with another song?” he teased, scrunching his nose. “i might have to start charging you for my services.”

you laughed as he squeezed himself next to you in the tiny seat. composing melodies with charles wasn’t a foreign practice, spending most of your sleepless nights sitting around the piano as you try to spurt lyrics out to match a melody.

you almost start to feel bad for your neighbours who had to endure several nights of this behaviour. hushed giggles under the influence of wine with poorly composed melodies begging to be put to rest with your string of words.

“i was thinking something like this to continue would be good,” charles hummed, wrapping an arm around you to get to the further end of the piano.

on the top of the piano and a pile of sheet music with tiny doodles in different coloured ink. you pick it up with a smile, a work-in-progress title is written in big block letters in charles’s handwriting with a small heart in the corner.

you remember well working on this song together. you wonder if that was when it started to all fall apart. if that was when charles had started growing to slightly despise you.

you start to go sift through the pile of papers. all of these songs will probably never see the light of day — even thinking of them just hurt — except for that one song.

that one song that started playing on the radio after you’d released it with crossed fingers and all of the hope in the world. you turn around and look at the living room, remembering the way you’d scrambled to move the furniture around when you heard a familiar melody filling the empty air of your apartment.

charles had insisted you celebrate with a mini dance party.

he pushed the table and the couch back, grabbing your hand as he started moving to the beat. though, you could argue that a ballad is not the type of song you throw your head back and dance along to.

but he somehow made it possible.

the million versions of that song only exist in your head and hopefully his: the ballad, the pop, the alternate version and the version with the different set of lyrics.

you can then suddenly hear the slamming of doors the night that things started to blow up. you hated it — you remember thinking that you could change his mind as he packed his things into a bag. not all of his things, which is what frustrates you even more to this day.

he could have at least shown you some decency by taking all of his things after having decided that he can’t do it anymore. you look around the living room and there are still remnants of charles everywhere.

his reason? he despises the success you’ve managed to find without him; the new world you’ve seemingly built and left him behind. and because of it, he finds it difficult not to be jealous of you — to not hate you.

it still stings to this day.

“i don’t love you anymore,” charles said in a tired sigh after your back-and-forth screaming. “i didn’t want to have to say it, but it seems like that’s the only thing that will put a stop to this.”

“to what?” you asked, hearing your heart shatter in your chest.

“to you asking me to stay! i don’t want to stay!” he explained with a dry laugh. he watched as tears filled your eyes as you slowly processed his words. “i tried to see if it was a mistake that i feel this way, but i can’t… i– i don’t love you anymore.”

it was difficult to climb as an aspiring classical musician. it’s such a niche market that watching your career, as a popstar, made it difficult to not let the resentment get the best of him.

charles had reached out a few weeks ago, through his personal assistant, inquiring if you’d ever release the songs you’d written together. he’d received a simple no from you personally, written with a bitter scoff while you sipped on some seltzer after a concert.

you wonder if he would do anything with the arrangements you’d spent creating together.

you see the ghost of your relationship tangled on the couch, sickeningly lost in the magic of the early stages of your time together.

“we’re going to make it,” charles whispered in your ear as he mimicked a sign with his hands. “you’ll be performing sold-out concerts, releasing music that people want to hear… and i’ll be the idiot at the sideline watching you like a lovesick fool.”

“no,” you laughed, shaking your head. “you’ll be my classical musician boyfriend. the best of its kind, better than mozart, perhaps?”

“nonsense!”

that had turned to you sitting on opposite ends of the couch with your head in your hands. charles sat in silence with his staggered breathing taking over the room.

“i’m sorry,” he sighed. “i didn’t want it to end this way.”

“i just don’t understand,” you croaked out, your voice cracking, “you said you loved me this morning when i left the apartment. so, you lied.”

charles dropped his head. “i still do, but… with the way it’s going… it’s not ending well.”

and that’s the last conversation you had with him. he’d left your shared apartment shortly after that, taking your prolonged silence as a cue for him to leave.

he’s dead to you now, along with all of the bittersweet memories you’d spent together in this very apartment. which is what you’d flown back to new york for — to pack it all up and get your things. you’re finally letting the apartment go along with all of the hatred you’ve got for charles.

taglist: @33-81 @darleneslane @localwhoore @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @c-losur3

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x reader #formula 1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #disneyprincemuke imagines #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke f1

[maraudersmyloves]

hii! i have a request i thought of a few days ago, fem!reader x slytherin boys (mainly mattheo riddle) where they noticed something wrong with her and she lies about it and mattheo says something along the line of “cut the bullshit”

CW: cussing, Angst, insecure reader, screaming, Arguing

You've been hanging out with the Slytherins less and less, not eating with them or hanging out at Blaise's Dorm after class.

That Fact alone wouldn't be unusual. It's exam Season after all and you often spend that time holed up in your Dorm, Studying and Eating what your Roommates bring you up.

The Problem occurs when you stop coming to Sunday Hangouts.

It's not an actual Agreement or anything, but it's become a Routine never broken.

Never.

No matter what's going on, on Sunday at around 9 PM you all meet at the Greenhouse.

Mattheo's always the first there and Tom's the last.

Pansy never figured out a certain time she would arrive while Draco always turns up at exactly 9:06:56

Down to the motherfucking Second

Blaise always brings a Book he doesn't read, Theo always forgets the Snacks he's supposed to bring and brings the sweets only he likes instead, while you always bring a Sketchbook.

It's 9:34 and you're not here.

You weren't there last week but Blaise convinced the others to talk about it Today.

Mattheo was stressing about talking with you and got into an all-time high of fights all week.

Now, you're not here.

Everyone is here

Except for you

It's pissing Mattheo off and at this point, the others are just as peeved

You are in your room crying

You know you should be at the Greenhouse rn, and doing anything else feels weird

The last 3 years you have spent every Sunday at the Greenhouse

For two weeks you haven't

The Slytherins loudly knock on your door and you quickly wipe away the tears, taking a few deep breaths to seem more collected

Mattheo sees your red eyes and is immediately worried although anger quickly overcomes him

Why didn't you tell him something was wrong?

God, why can you never just talk to him??

"Oh, hi guys!"

You force a smile but they see through it

"Wtf, y/n. Where have you been, what's going on???"

"I've just been studying, you know how i get"

"Cut the crap, wtf is actually going on?"

Blaise pulls him back a bit to not make you feel cornered

Theo steps forward, missing the point of Mattheo getting pulled back "We worry!! You can't just cut contact for two weeks. We excused you not coming to hang out last week but two times in a row?!"

"Calm down guys, I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation to all of this, Right?" Pansy says, but the last words have some venom you didn't expect.

Not from her

Your best Friend

Hot tears fall from your eyes and Tom pulls Pansy to the side while Mattheo steps closer, his eyes filled with worry

"Mi Vida? Can I hug you?"

His Voice is soft and his open Arms look so inviting.

You want to step back and say no so badly when you remember the words that caused this, but you can't bring yourself to do so. Silently nodding

He wraps his arms around you in a matter of seconds pulling you as close as he can.

You can hear Blaise's annoyed voice talk the others into leaving you alone

He is the only one smart enough to realize how overwhelmed you are

One after the other they usher out

All with various amounts of Backtalk, while you and Mattheo stay still. Standing in the middle of the now empty room, Papers and Books scattered all around you, Mattheo buries his Head in your Neck.

"Wanna tell me what's wrong, baby?"

Pt. 2 with Backstory and more Angst?

#headcanon #fluff #writing #fanfic #harry potter #mattheo x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys react #slytherin #slytherin boys x reader

[matan4il]

On Friday, during Passover, a terrorist attack took place in Israel. The terrorist attacked an 18 years old girl on the streets of Ramla, stabbed her in the back, leaving her seriously wounded, as he ran away. The girl was in the city visiting a friend, whose father and brother heard the girl's screams and chased the terrorist. The dad, a civilian with a personal weapon, neutralized the attacker. The girl's state has since improved, but she's still hospitalized.

There is footage of the terrorist chasing the young girl down the street, stabbing her in the back without even stopping, causing her to collapse to the ground, as he continues, and flees the scene.

The anti-Israel protests on college campuses in the west are horrifying to watch. They were bad enough when they started on Oct 8, while Israel wasn't even counting its dead yet, because we were still fighting terrorists invading our country and endangering our civilians, so Israel's army was still not free to do anything in Gaza, but these protests have somehow gotten so much worse. They've become more openly antisemitic (we've seen more and more people doing the Nazi salute, and using signs calling for a "final solution," the whitewashed Nazi term for their intended annihilation of all Jews):

They are now more openly calling for blood (in the past week or so, we've seen no calls for a ceasefire, instead we've heard chants to kill Zionists, to burn Tel Aviv, for Iran to fire rockets at Israel, meaning at its civilian population, and to globalize the intifada, a wave of anti-Israel terrorist attacks. During the second intifada alone, over 1,200 people in Israel were murdered). They've also become more physically violent, with more and more Jewish and pro-Israel people being assaulted, and even requiring medical care:

I've been seeing so much, and it's being talked about on the news here more than you can imagine. The presidents of Israeli universities even did something unprecedented, that they've never done during any of Israel's former conflicts, no matter how bad those got. After publishing repeated calls for foreign universities to fight antisemitism and protect their Jewish students, the presidents of Israeli universities have now published an open letter, lamenting that the problem might be beyond the capacity of university presidents abroad to solve, and addressing Jewish students, stating they have a safe space here, offering them any assistance with pursuing it.

The worst protests are in the US, at Ivy League universities of all places, but I've heard horrifying things about universities in Canada, France, Australia as well... I feel like I can't really do this subject justice in just one post, so if I only share with you one last thing about it, this following vid would be it, because it's bigger than just the protests, and at the same time, partly explains how so many people have been recruited into them. It's a typical example of how in this complex conflict, real facts (such as vids filmed on the ground) are often taken out of context and manipulated to present a simplistic narrative, in which Zionists (i.e the overwhelming majority of Jews) are presented as intrinsically violent and evil, while ignoring and even lying about the anti-Jewish violence at play:

Jews and Jewish allies abroad, please take care of yourselves! And don't let all the hate get to you... Just because there's a lot of them, doesn't mean they're right. Or even that they're the majority. They just give that impression by being more vocal than anyone else, and taking over public spaces, pushing everyone else out.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #resources #Instagram

[tkwrites]

Good For You - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @gabelandeskog

Title: Good For You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc)

Summary: Quinn and Sarah have a discussion about and decide to stop using condoms before putting that decision into practice. A question we’ve all been waiting for is finally asked.

Warnings: smut (18+ only), p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it up unless you’re in a consenting relationship!), cum play (sort of?), if I missed anything, let me know!

Word count: 4,900

Comments: I live! 

After two heavy snapshots, steeped in feelings, I’m back with some good old fashioned smut (with lots of plot, of course, because I am who I am). Thanks to the many Nonnies who requested this. I’d already started writing it when you sent this, but your asks challenged me to combine both your requests. I hope you enjoy, and it lives up to your expectations! If you did enjoy, please let me know by commenting, sending in an ask or reblogging! I love reading your comments, asks and suggestions! 

Anonymous asked: hey! Another request idea… I was rereading the fic about Sarah being overwhelmed before meeting Quinn’s parents and when they’re talking about the WAG jackets, sarah mentions that they aren’t official yet. Can we get fic of Quinn officially asking Sarah to be his gf? Seriously love readying your stuff! 

Anonymous asked: I love how much you actually show the communication between Quinn and Sarah, it makes it so much more real and overall I just love your writing ❤️❤️ I noticed how as their relationship progresses, they decide not to use condoms. Will we get to see this conversation in the future? I'd also love to see when they officially decide to be together with labels and all xxx

Good For You

A Quinn & Sarah snapshot

“Hey, Quinn?” Sarah called, walking up the stairs. 

“Yeah?” 

She found him on the suede couch, reading a book. 

Sitting at his feet, she smiled when he moved them into her lap. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Okay,” he put the marker in his book and rested it on his chest. 

Color flooded into her cheeks. 

“What?” he asked, unable to hold in a nervous laugh at her sudden blush.

“I just,” she paused to lick her lips, trying to screw up her courage. “I wanted to let you know I had an IUD put in last month.” 

“What’s that?” 

“It’s the most effective form of birth control. It’s pretty much as effective as celibacy.” 

He paused, unsure where this conversation was going. When she didn't elaborate, he asked, “So what did you want to talk about? Just that you have it?” 

“Well that and —” she knotted her fingers together, “since it’s super effective, and we’re only seeing each other and have been for a while, I wondered if maybe you wanted to…” she trailed off. 

Quinn got the feeling he was supposed to know what she was talking about, but he was clueless. “If I wanted to, what?” 

Chewing on her lip, she guessed it was time to just spit it out, “I wondered if we both get STI tested, and only if you want to, we could try not using condoms all the time.” 

He felt his eyes go wide. “What?” 

“I mean, only if you want to. If you feel more comfortable with condoms, that’s totally fine.” 

“Are you joking?” he asked, scrambling to sit up. The book slipped off him and fell to the wood floor with a sharp slap. “Of course I want to. Did you think I was going to turn down that offer?” 

“I don’t know.” 

He moved to kneel, crowding into her space. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, feel it in his fingertips. “Can we try now?” 

A laugh split her mouth into a pretty smile, but she put a hand to his chest to stop him from leaning closer. 

“We need to get STI tested first.”

“I’m clean,” he said.

“As far as I know, I am too, but I would feel better if we both got tested, knowing neither of us has slept with someone else in quite a while.”

He looked crestfallen. 

“It’s not that I don’t believe you,” she hastened to add, “I’ve just heard horror stories of girls whose boyfriends didn’t know they were carrying something. Most STIs affect women, you know, and men just pass them along.” 

His eyes went wide, “really?” 

“Just another joy of being a woman.” 

“Thats bullshit.”

“Yep,” she agreed, popping the last letter. “So It’s not that I don’t believe you, but I really need that proof for my own peace of mind before I’d feel comfortable.”

“Yeah,” Quinn agreed, “of course. I’ll talk to Roman about it tomorrow.” 

“I’ll message my doctor,” she said with a shy smile, pulling out her phone. 

Logically, Quinn knew they needed to talk about this before anything could happen, but the thought that he might get to fuck her bare buzzed in the back of his mind so intensely, he wished she had waited until it was an actual possibility, even if that was impossible.

When he asked Roman about it between breakfast and video the next day, the trainer immediately went into crisis mode, “what kind of symptoms are you having?” 

“None. I'm just — I want to be safe.” 

He was going to tell him that the girl he was seeing — he was getting so sick of using that phrase — asked him to, but that seemed like it was putting all the blame on Sarah. While she did ask for it, he'd just never considered it something he should do. Now that he knew, he was more than happy to do it.

“You're sure? You can tell me, you know.” 

“I know. No symptoms. I’m just making sure.” 

Roman looked at him appraisingly. “Are you dating someone new?” 

Quinn was a bit surprised he hadn't heard about it. It seemed to him it was the only thing the guys chirped him about lately. 

“Yeah.” 

“Good for you,” he said approvingly. “Glad to know you're being safe.” 

Quinn felt a chagrinned smile spread over his face. 

“Well, I’m glad to know your girlfriend is safe at least,” Roman said with a laugh. 

How was it so easy for him to whip that word around? 

“Go to Doctor Jamison's after practice. I'll put in an order for you. They'll just need a blood sample.” 

The results took two days. By that time he was on the road. Thankfully, not for too long. Only one game.

He sent her a screenshot of the panel results. All negative, mercifully. He didn't expect to be positive, but he hadn't checked while he was with or after he broke up with June. 

She sent back a screenshot of her own test panel, also all negative. 

It was suddenly very real. The idea of coming home to Sarah was even more enticing than usual. 

He’d fucked girls bare before, he knew the sensations that came along with it, but he’d never fucked Sarah bare before. He’d tried, and she’d insisted on using condoms. He wasn’t going to make her uncomfortable, and he wasn’t going to give up sleeping with her. If that meant he had to wear a condom, he’d do it. 

Now that the possibility of making love to her without one was on the horizon, he couldn’t get it out of his mind. 

Looks like we'll be coming in about 2, he texted when they got to the arena. They'd fly home right after the game versus Calgary. Want to just stay at my place?

Wish I could, she wrote back, but I have class tomorrow at 8. I'll come to yours as soon as I'm done with work, though. 

“What's wrong, Q?” Brock asked, noticing his crestfallen expression. 

“Nothing,” he said, shoving his phone into his bag. “Sarah's just got class tomorrow morning so I won't see her until tomorrow night.” 

“Man, she's got you whipped.”

Quinn rolled his eyes, playing off the comment. If he protested, he knew they would just chirp him about it more, and there was no way he was going to explain his excitement to Brock. 

When the next evening finally rolled around, Quinn found himself pacing, a nervous excitement buzzing through his whole body. He’d never felt like this before. As if anticipation had been winding him up for 4 days straight. 

He’d tried his best to burn off as much energy as possible on a run that morning, but that felt like years ago now. Adrenaline was coursing through him by the gallon. 

He heard the elevator ding, and his stomach leapt. 

Before Sarah could scan in, the door flung open. Quinn was standing there, cheeks already flushed. 

She couldn’t help it, she gigged. 

“What?” 

“You’re just really cute,” she said.

Pulling her into the apartment, he resisted the urge to pull her upstairs straight away. Cool. He needed to be cool.

“Cute in a good way, right?” 

“Yes,” she assured, leaning up to kiss him. “In a very good way.” 

All of a sudden, the enormity of the situation crashed on him. He and Sarah had had sex 73 times, but this felt totally new. A frantic awkwardness took hold of his mind. How was he supposed to start this? Just like every other time? Every other time, it happened so naturally.  

“Hey,” she said, grasping his wrist, trying to stop the overthinking she could practically see scrolling across his face. 

He blinked a few times and met her eyes. “Sorry. I’m so… I mean, I’ve never anticipated something like this for so long.” The words were falling out of his mouth before he really had a chance to think through them. 

“Yeah, I get that,” she said. “I’m not sure I have either.” 

“I don’t want to fuck it up,” he admitted. 

A soft smile took over her face. “Quinn, it’s me. We've already had great sex. This is just another step.” 

Nodding, he took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before letting it out. Excitement reared in his stomach again, waging battle with his nerves. 

“I do think we should talk about it, though.” 

“Didn’t we already talk about it?”

“I mean, I think we should talk about what we want.”

“What do you mean?” 

“Like, what we're looking for.” She moved to sit on the living room couch, pulling him down with her. “I want to make sure we talk about it before we're in the heat of the moment so neither of us do something the other isn’t comfortable with.”

Quinn had never been with someone who communicated as much as Sarah. “It’s a product of the dead parents,” she’d told him when he asked her about it once, “life’s too short to not have the conversation.”

He sat next to her, “okay, so what do you want?”

“I want to feel you fuck me bare.” 

The frank way she said it made his whole body ring.

“And I want to feel you come inside me.” It felt dangerous and exciting to say it out loud, but she couldn't get it out of her mind. 

“Really?” Quinn asked, voice lilted with surprise. 

“Yeah. I've been dreaming about it,” she admitted. For the past few weeks, it seemed every time she would dream of him, the feeling of him filling her was so vivid that when she woke, her underwear would be soaked, almost as if she'd orgasmed in her sleep. “I'm guessing that's something you want, too?” 

He nodded. 

“Is there anything else you want?” 

He opened his mouth, then paused. 

She nodded, encouraging him. 

“I mean, there is something but it’s not a huge deal.” He was pretty certain she would at least consider it, but history had him trying to not get his hopes up.

“Tell me,” she urged, resting her hand on his knee. “I want to do what you want, too.” 

“I want to come on you,” he admitted, the words coming out all in a rush.

Eyes widening, Sarah couldn’t quite stifle the laugh that squeaked from her mouth. “I’m sorry,” she hurriedly back pedaled, seeing the hurt on his face, “I’m not laughing at you, it’s just — with the look on your face, I was bracing myself for something super kinky.”

“June hated it,” he said quietly. “She didn’t like cum at all.”

“So did you just wear condoms all the time?” 

“No. She didn’t like those either.” 

Her eyebrows furrowed together, an incredulous expression on her face. “You can’t have it both ways.” 

Something inside him unknotted. 

“I mean, did she insist you come in a tissue every time or something?” 

“Most of the time,” he amended, “sometimes I could come in her, but never on her.” 

June reminded Sarah so much of the mean girls she’d known throughout her life: content to demand things of others, knowing their social currency was enough to purchase obedience to all of those ridiculous rules. Part of her wondered if June even disliked cum, or if she was just trying to keep Quinn under her thumb. 

“Well I don’t have a problem with either. I mean, I don’t really love a facial, but other places are fine.” She paused for a moment, thinking about how often Quinn asked her questions, willing to learn, so he could please her better, “and, I mean, if you’re really invested in coming on my face, we can do it. I just don’t want it all the time.”  

He felt his eyelids grow heavy and he swallowed thickly. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah. A relationship is a two way street. You deserve to get the things you want, too. ” 

The relieved smile he gave her in response made her want to slap June across the face. Quinn was so, so good — attentive and genuine and so willing to learn and please. She wanted to do the same for him. Besides, it wasn’t like Sarah had some kink for cum, at least she didn’t think she did, but feeling a partners pleasure in such a tangible way, always gave her a deep sense of satisfaction. 

“Is there anything else you want?” he asked. 

“No. You?” 

He shook his head.

“Alright,” she said, “I think we should go upstairs.” 

Quinn stopped trying to play it cool. He was too excited to play it cool. He grabbed her hand and raced up the stairs, glad that she laughed as she ran along with him. 

She threw open the door to his room. Sarah loved this room. It was in the corner of the building, and huge windows looked over the beautiful Vancouver skyline. The sun was setting, turning the harbor and city windows yellow and pink, casting their colors on the walls and spinning everything else in the room into gold. 

Before she could get too caught in the view, he was spinning her around, catching her mouth in a kiss that sucked the breath right out of her. 

Clothing was discarded, and they tumbled into his bed. 

They surged together and Sarah moaned. It was already so much better. 

Somehow, there was less pressure. He didn't have to think about pulling away to make sure they were safe. He could stay focused on her without any other worries. Why had he been so nervous? This felt, like she said, like the natural next step. 

When he pulled back to line himself up, Sarah pressed her hand to his pelvis stopping the movement. 

“What?” he asked, worried he'd hurt her. 

“We need lube,” she said. “Or more foreplay. The condoms you have have lube on them, so they slide easier. Without that I'm worried…” she trailed off. 

He hadn't even thought about it. “Which do you want?”

“I mean, I'm always game for more foreplay.”

Grinning, he leaned down to kiss her, rolling his hips against hers again. As their tongues tangled, she groaned into his mouth. 

“Tell me when you're ready,” he whispered in her ear before tracing his lips over her jaw and down her neck. He licked and kissed, while one of his hands fondled her breasts, working her up to those hitched little breaths and small moans he loved so much.

“Quinn,” she breathed, a few moments later, as her temperature spiked. He hadn’t shaved in a while, and his beard rasped against her skin. She’d never liked facial hair before him, but somehow, with Quinn, it was more arousing than painful. Probably because of what else he was doing. God, he was good with his mouth. 

Unbidden, but not unwelcome or unfamiliar, images crashed into her mind — Quinns head buried between her thighs, his magic tongue working her to a climax she knew would be mind melting. The fantasies made her desperate for him.

“I need you,” she gasped, feeling herself grow slick against the muscular ridge of his thigh he had wedged between her legs.

“I’m right here.”

“I need you inside me.”

Her admission made Quinn feel drunk with desire. Out of his mind with it. He pulled back and her hand covered his to help him line up.

Pressing into her was better than he’d imagined. 

She was so hot and wet and, “shit, you’re so tight,” he ground out, the words scraping over a moan. 

Now that the barrier was gone, the time spent waiting to remove it was well worth it. Her smooth walls hugged him perfectly. 

Just to feel the contrast, he withdrew to the tip, pulling a sharp breath through his teeth at the rush of cool air before he drove back into her warmth. His jaw dropped and he made some unintelligible sound.

Slick and slippery, his thrusts moved with her seamlessly as she rose to meet him again and again and again.

“So good,” she breathed, reveling in the feel of him - every vein and ridge that had been smoothed by the latex covering before felt so prominent now and, “Quinn, you feel so good.” 

The praise went straight to his head.

“You feel so —” he broke off with a growl. “Shit, you feel so amazing, Sarah. I — I —” He babbled, nearly blurting that he loved her. He bit that back. This wasn’t the time for that. He wanted that to be special, not something spluttered in a lust-drunk moment. “I don't know how long I can last,” he admitted instead. 

God, he was something else. Flushed and flustered, eyes half hooded, body tight with exertion and control, he looked delicious. The fact that he wanted her this much made her chest feel full to bursting.

A moan escaped her mouth as pleasure washed over her face. Her eyelashes fluttered.

Just like that, he was done for. Cooked.

“I can't… I can't,” he stammered. At least he lasted longer than the embarrassing two strokes from their first time.

“Then don't,” she panted, rocking her hips into his. Her own climax building as the thought of him finally coming inside her brought her sensitivity to a peak. 

Groaning her name, he let his body take over, rhythm turning sloppy. 

As she watched, his eyes fluttered closed and with a final, powerful thrust, he sheathed himself to the hilt and let go. 

Feeling the very tangible result of his pleasure coat her walls made Sarah’s breath hitch. It only took a few more rocks of her hips before her body bowed, chest pressing flush to his as she pulsed around him, pleasure poured into her body. 

His mouth was open against her neck as he let out a sort of pained grunt.

Coming down, she melted into the soft mattress. 

His body followed hers, his weight pressing into her. He knew it was probably too heavy, but he couldn’t possibly hold himself up right now.

Quinns gasping breaths were crashing into her neck. Even though it didn’t make it any easier to catch her breath, she loved the solid weight of him on top of her.

Strength slowly returned to him and they both winced a little as he eased out. 

Flopping onto his back next to her, he groped for her hand. “Oh my god,” he breathed, once he had control of his voice. “That was incredible.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, pulling some breaths deep into her lungs.

After a few more moments of basking in the afterglow, she moved to get up. He tugged her back, “where are you going?” 

“I need to pee. I'll be right back, I promise.” 

He didn't shy away from watching her pad to the bathroom and then back to the bed. 

Halfway through their second round, he was determined to feel Sarah come undone around him when he wasn’t so sensitive from his own orgasm. Working his fingers to her clit, he traced gentle patterns over the swollen nub. 

A pleasured sigh left her lips. “Oh,” Sarah breathed, “that feels so good, Quinn.”

She had to take a moment to make her mind concentrate on one thing at a time. Anticipation coiled tighter in her belly as she focused on his gentle, deliberate touch, the heat of his body above and inside her, and then, the feel of his cock, which had been so dulled before, it almost felt completely new.

He dipped lower, gathering more of her arousal on his fingers to slip and slide over her bundle of nerves. 

He didn’t try to hide or hold back from how good it felt when she fluttered around him. Her name panted from his mouth. Only when he felt himself sliding too close to the edge, did he bite his lip to distract himself. 

Seeing Quinn hold on for her, trying to draw out her orgasm before his own, made tenderness swell within her. It mixed with the pleasure in her veins, bringing her closer to the peak. How the hell did June not see him this way? 

She gasped his name before admitting, “I’m almost there.” 

“What do you need?” he asked, wrenching his eyes open to look into her face. 

“Keep going, don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

He shook his head. Never. He would never stop trying to please her like this and any other way he could. 

The steady rhythm he restrained himself into did its job, and she tipped over the edge. 

The coil in her belly finally shattering, her body seized up as pleasure fractured through her like lightning. His name flew from her mouth in a hoarse cry. 

Jaw falling open, he grunted his pleasure as her core sucked him deeper with every rhythmic pulse. God, she felt even more incredible. Sarah was already the best he’d ever had, and now, the sex had just gotten better. How was that possible? 

Gripping the sheets, he held on for her, moaning and muttering about how good she felt coming around him.

Sarah was mesmerized by him. His eyes were shut now, the skin around them taut, but his jaw was lax, nearly hanging open. His arms flexed, mountains and valleys of muscle on either side of her, straining with the effort of holding himself up. 

Electricity was still buzzing faintly through her veins, even as her high ebbed away. She couldn’t wait any longer to fulfill his fantasy.

“Come on me, Quinn.” 

Breath lodged in his throat and his eyes flew open, frantically searching her face. “You're sure?”

“Yes. I want you to. Come on me,” she repeated, running her fingers up her chest as an example. 

In a rush of want, he planked above her, quickly tugging on his cock, slick with her arousal, until he exploded, painting a sticky white line up her chest.

She seemed to preen under the assault, arching her back and moaning as if it was something she’d been waiting her whole life for. It was one of the hottest things he'd ever seen.  

“Fuuuck,” he groaned as his limbs turned to jelly. 

He managed to lower himself on top of her without dropping, feeling his cum slick between their skin. 

“Holy shit, that was so hot,” he panted against her mouth. 

In a few minutes time, Sarah knew she'd be squirming for a shower, but for now, she felt extremely gratified with fulfilling this fantasy for him. She smiled, replaying the look of shocked elation on his face when she requested it.

Tracing her fingers up the bumps of his spine, she took in a deep breath and let it sigh out of her lungs, reveling in the weight of his body on hers. 

Finally catching his breath, he lifted his head, arching an eyebrow. “Where did all of this come from?”

“All what?” 

He traced a finger through the valley of her breasts, gathering some of his cum. “This,” he said, “you’re little exhibitionist streak when I came on you.”

“Oh,” she somehow blushed despite her flushed skin. “I wanted to be good for you. You’re so good to me all the time, I want you to feel that, too.” 

That simple statement, her admittance that she did it for him, made his head spin. How could he have ever thought what he had with June was love? He saw now how a love that met you half way blew her idea of love, which he knew now was more about control, out of the water. 

A few minutes later, Sarah’s sweaty, post-sex skin began to itch. “Shower?” she asked. 

“Snacks,” Quinn countered, his head still resting on the front of her shoulder. 

A laugh shook her chest, “shower then snacks.”

He supposed it could work.

A short while later, they were in the kitchen, and Quinn was having an argument with himself.

They needed to have a conversation, but it was terrible timing. He didn’t want her to think he was only bringing it up because of what happened that night. At the same time, he was about to leave for five days on the road, and the family skate wasn’t that much longer after that, and he was so tired of introducing her as the girl he was seeing. Sarah was more than that, now. It didn’t fit anymore and it was too damn long to keep saying. 

If they didn’t talk about it now, he worried there wouldn’t be enough time.

He glanced at her. She was wearing a shirt with a funny little cartoon of a fork and a spoon that said, ‘Spooning leads to forking’ along with a pair of matching shorts. Her thighs were bare and lovely in the dim light as she sat on the counter, eating a piece of cheese she’d stolen from the sandwich he was building for them to split. 

He put the top piece of bread on, and decided he should just blurt it out. He didn’t think there would be a better way. And the longer he waited, the harder it would be to bring up.

“What do you think about being my girlfriend?” he said, looking up.

Her hand paused on the way to her mouth, the cheese missing an almost cartoon-like bite  — a little scalloped half moon cut into one corner.

“Am —” Sarah paused, wondering if this was some kind of a trick question. “Am I not?” 

“No,” he said before his brain caught up with him. “No, you are, but I mean, like, formally?” 

Her head tilted to one side, “Of course. I’ve been thinking of you as my boyfriend for a few weeks now. Pretty much since you met Trav and the kids.”

A sigh breathed through him. 

“Did you think I was gonna say no?” 

“I don’t…I mean, I didn’t want you to think I was only bringing it up because of the unprotected sex thing.” 

“That is pretty terrible timing on your part,” she conceded, laughing. “It’s a good thing I…” she trailed off, stopping herself from continuing out loud. Why couldn’t she just come out and say it? So what if she was in her ridiculous pajamas in his kitchen? She’d brought them with her expressly because she thought they would make him laugh, and she’d been right. The delighted surprise that had escaped his mouth when he’d seen them was something she knew she’d treasure for a long time.

“A good thing you?” he repeated, hope ballooning in his chest. 

“It’s a good think I know you’re not just in it for the sex,” she said, lamely.

Quinn’s expression went from worried to distraught right before her eyes. “How could you think that?” he asked, his voice embarrassingly earnest.

“Quinn, I —” 

He cut her off, “I like so many things about you, Sarah. You’re smart and funny and you’re kind to everyone you meet, and you’re so dedicated to your work.” He was rambling now, but if she thought he was in this just for the sex? He would die of shame. 

“I like that you’ve never treated me like anything else but Quinn, and you’re always willing to meet me half way,” he said, his voice taking on an almost frantic quality as he tried to convey what she meant to him. “And I —” 

“Quinn.” 

The way she said his name made him stop short. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand coming up to gently cup his jaw. “I was teasing. I know you’re not just in it for the sex. Someone who only wanted sex wouldn’t have waited four weeks to have it.” 

She had a valid point. 

“I’d love to be your girlfriend, Quinn. Just as long as you can be my boyfriend.” 

“Deal,” he said, leaning in to kiss her, feeling as if someone had struck a match, setting his heart ablaze. 

Settling into bed, Quinn remembered he hadn’t told her yet. 

“Hey, my family’s coming in for the finals. They’ll be here on the 20th.” 

“Oh,” she said, obvious disappointment on her face.

“Is that not…okay?” 

Feeling her cheeks blaze, Sarah realized she hadn’t shared that expectation with him yet. “It’s just…my last final is that day and I’ve kind of been looking forward to you fucking me silly as a reward for finishing.”

His eyes went huge, “oh.”

“It's one of the ideas that's kept me going, honestly.”

“I could still do that,” he said, the words rushing out of his mouth.

“With your family in the house? I don't think so.”

“At yours then.”

“With my roommates there?”

He bit his lip. “We could get a hotel?”

“Because that's not weird when you have people, let alone family, staying at your house.”

“I’ll tell them to come a day later,” he offered. 

“Would they buy that without an explanation?”

“Would I have to give them one?”  

“I don't know. Would you? My family would want to know. You’ll have to make something up.”

“You don’t want me to tell them they can’t come on the 20th because my girlfriend finally finished her classes and wants to be fucked all night?” he teased. 

Giggling, she smacked his shoulder lightly, “I think I might die if your mom knew that about me,” she admitted, part of her mind still caught on the open way he used the girlfriend title. 

He laughed.“I’ll just tell them we have a late team meeting, or something so it would be better for them to come in on 21st. It’ll be fine.” 

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist 

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[moodymisty]

Would you be comfortable writing some courting headcanons for the primarchs?? Thank you!!

Author's note: Here you go, they're sort of random but I hope you enjoy them.

Warnings: Fem!Reader for some like Lion’el because of words like Legion Mother, A few very slightly lewd remarks

Fulgrim:

The primarch who out of all has most devoted himself to things like the arts is nothing short of overwhelming, when he first expressed his desire for you. Flowers, paintings, clothing, food, whatever it is you enjoy, all of it gets gifted to you with no small amount of theatrics. Though thankfully, Fulgrim knows when to turn it down a bit, and you can enjoy his company. Even then however he is still very intense, kisses on the hand, the lips, and gentle caresses abound as he woos you with his silver tongue. His legion is also one of the few who at the start know about Fulgrim's intentions, and actually takes it decently well. Far better than other legions, when finding out their Primarch is indulging in romance. You are the socialite, the shining star in a room and the talk of everyone there, and Fulgrim will have it no other way. But as much as he does all this, he finds it cute if you’re shy or nervous about it. Shyness isn’t in his dna, so he finds it very adorable. You often get purfumed, hand written letters when he is away. Fulgrim has quite the way with words, and many of them you’re glad the one who reads them are him and you.

Perturabo:

He might be a petulant manchild at times, but when the mood strikes him Perturabo can be a bit softer. It helps that you're one of the few people he trusts, now that the two of you are so close. Though it may often be more trouble than it's worth, with how often his mood changes. Perturabo can go from lavishing you with Olympian clothes to sulking in his workshop for hours if not days, leaving you to eventually wander down there and find him, and bring him out of his petulant sulk. A gentle hand on his own, asking if he can explain to you what he’s working on tends to help. Perturabo also becomes very possessive of you, not long after he starts courting you. If Dorn, Sanguinius or Lorgar so much as look at you the wrong way, he's more than ready for a fight. He has one person in his life who hasn’t wronged him, who actually respects him, and he isn’t losing that. Those softer moments with him as he speaks of his plans for amphitheaters and bathhouses while you lay in his arms are worth it, however.

Lion’el Jonson:

Lion'el is, complicated. Part of him wonders how he even got here, something as frivolous as romance was never a significant part of his mind. But here he is. He can’t complain, as he’s become so used to you now that often times, his nose wrinkles anytime he’s away and casts sight on an empty bed. He doesn’t say anything about it, however. Part of him laments he isn't able to give you rides on horseback, as he's far outgrown the horses he rode in his younger years. Though he can walk beside you, even if his men think it's demeaning of his position. Is painfully blunt about some things, and extremely obtuse about others. He wishes to marry you? Blunt. You get a military parade dedicated to showing the galaxy the Dark Angels new Legion Mother with no warning. He wishes for you to wear the colors of his legion and match him so when you arrive on Terra everyone knows who you are with? Vague and obtuse, he will grunt about every option until you choose the one he likes.

Rogal Dorn:

As with all parts of his life, he's extremely stoic and at first, you don't think anything's changed. He's the type that listens to the things you talk about, and silently gives them to you. For instance as a newcomer to Inwit it's incredibly cold, but your current dress just doesn't cut it for the harsh wind and un-acclimated body. You find a new one on your bed three days later made perfect and exactly how you like it, but Dorn says nothing about it. Those few late night moments alone when he brings you into his office, and you sit at his desk while he works are some of his favorite. Dorn gets to feel you safe in his arms, and while he’ll never say it out loud, he is overwhelmed in his love for you. Does not tell any of his fellow primarchs about you. The day they realize Dorn has a beloved is a stressful one, they’re all sneaking around trying to get information about you, and Dorn almost has to lock you in his quarters and shoo them all away. Is surprising talkative in written word. His letters or anything else tend to be very long, talking about the ins and outs of his legion, and their current progress. You’ve never heard him talk half that much in person, it’s sweet. Though once in a while those letters can get a bit salacious; And Dorn is nothing if not detailed.

Leman Russ:

This man's declaration that he wanted to court you was as brash and blunt as he is. You're pretty sure he was half way into sleeping with how drunk he was at the time, a massive hand on your shoulder as he smiles with a red face. Granted when he sobered up he was far more, romantic about it. By his standards. He still stunk of mjød, but at least he held your hand. From that moment on however Russ isn't a man shy of showing off, and wastes no opportunity to plop you in his lap and give you a kiss, pick you up off the ground, or say something far too inappropriate for the current locale. Whether it's day two or day two hundred, he finds keeping himself off of you too much trouble. He’s the type to make others turn away with how overt his affection is. Every one of his kisses and hugs feel like he’s treating it as the last one he’ll ever do. Loves when you comb and braid his hair. It takes awhile and he has no patience for it, but he enjoys when you do it.

Ferrus Manus:

As a recurring theme with all of these, Ferrus finds it a bit hard to show how he feels. While he has moments where he cracks a smile, often times he’s largely stoic. As such, he never really asked you to be with him, it was something that simply progressed overtime. He doesn’t invite you into his quarters and his bed if you aren’t his beloved, he assumes it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. Late night workshop time is a must. Ferrus can spend days in there with no issue, and oftentimes you have to come and climb into his lap if you want any time with him at all. He doesn’t mind as as long as you’re quiet; Though over time he’s begun to enjoy explaining his plans to you if you aren’t asleep. If you are asleep, sometimes he gets a bit emotional and talks or thinks to himself. He never thought he’d have someone like you when he lived on Medusa, he just needed to survive. Is actually somewhat hesitant when you first are together. Ferrus is well aware of his size (both out and in the bedroom, or any other local where he deems sex a daring and intriguing idea), and often tries to be quite gentle. It took a bit of coaxing to finally treat you like you weren’t made of glass. You get surprise gifts from Fulgrim at times. Some are sweet; Some are… They’re hidden until Ferrus returns from where ever he’s currently away to at the time and you can surprise him.

Horus:

The same as Fulgrim; Excessive and grandiose, but unlike Fulgrim, there's a tad more subtlety to it. But only a tad. Horus still is eager to show off the love of his life (and so much more that he’s kept just in his head shh), but he’s aware that sometimes you require a bit more subtlety. For a primarch, he’s quite the romantic. Though there’s only so much you can do when you have thousands of gene-sons waiting on orders and don’t exactly get why their primarch is holding your tiny hand and helping you walk down the thunderhawk’s ramp. You can do it yourself, they think. He can also be quite a bit grandiose in the theoretical sense. Horus seems to have your entire future together planned, and he’ll speak it to you during very late nights with stars in his eyes. To marry you, to bring you into his legion as the mother of his gene-sons, to give you your own child one day. He’s more than a bit overwhelming, but it helps he’s so charismatic.

Angron:

I... I hope you're patient. Angron isn’t one that is fond of things like romance. For multiple reasons. One being that it brings him pain because of the Nails, and the other being that in many ways, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He’s a slave, he’s a monster, he’s a man who failed his people, men like him don’t get to have someone like you. But you stay anyways despite the fear of him loosing control of the Nails, and eventually Angron supposes that there’s more annoying people to have around. He’s far more applicable to this in his early days. The Nails haven’t degraded his mental state yet, and his legion is still fresh faced and eager to prove their worth. If Angron accepts you, they will as well then. The downside is that many of the primarchs worry about Angron’s relationship and subsequent attachment to you, and the danger it brings. Some for your safety, but mostly for the fact that now that Angron is so deeply attached, if something were to happen to you it would well be within the possibility that Angron would completely loose control of the Nails, and become an unstoppable threat that would have to be put down. On the other hand, it seems that you can calm him down a bit, as much as the Nails will allow, something that not many are able to do. A double edged sword, your love is to him. Often times you have to restrain him during anything, strenuous. It’s for your own safety, though it seems like Angron doesn’t hate it either.

Roboute Guilliman:

The most traditional out of them all. He follows the 'rules' so strictly you have wonder if he's following some sort of manuscript. Your relationship progresses at a very methodical pace, which is a bit odd but you find it oddly sweet he puts so much thought into it. He does little more than hold your hand, kisses and anything heavier are strictly private; If it wasn't for the longing, puppy dog look in his eyes, no one would guess you two were anything more. He's not overt about it like Horus or Fulgrim, but you are still absolutely smothered in gifts. From jewelry to clothing to weird purfumes he's been gifted by high lords attempting to earn his favor through you (Guilliman has made it very obvious that he's not the type to be swayed by gifts but they hope you are and will put in a good word with your beloved), you quickly find yourself constantly or the receiving end of some sort of lavish gift. Roboute is very much in love, it's just hard for him to admit it. As you come to understand his own little love language is the day he's a very happy man. On a bonus note: It is very easy to get this man to completely melt for you. If it’s been a stressful time for him and he’s stressed, giving him a bit of a hand will make him a bit bashful, but overwhelmingly thankful.

Sanguinus:

As kind as he is beautiful, Sanguinius is one of the more heartfelt ones around. Romance abound, the angel and you are the textbook example of star crossed lovers the moment he proposes courtship to you. It almost makes some of the primarchs jealous at how incredibly perfect your love for each other is, like your feet don’t touch the ground He loves to pick you up and give you a hug or a kiss, wrapping you in his wings. He always says it's just so you feel safer, but he also likes the bit of privacy, hiding you from the worlds in his arms. You also enjoy playing with his wings when you’re in private, as they’re quite sensitive. A side note; He thinks it's cute that you use his fallen feathers as bookmarks and quills, and he now gifts you a few of his fallen primary feathers every now and again for you to use. You’ll know about the Red Thirst eventually when you’re with him. Sanguinius won’t ever ask for assistance, but if you were to offer a bit of blood? He’s incredibly careful, but the blood of his lover is nothing short of ambrosia and he will dutifully treat you afterward for sating his appetite.

Jaghatai Khan:

As one of the more reasonable primarchs, Jaghatai is a steal to have as your lover. He’s personable and kind, and funny to boot. He enjoys making you laugh, something his sons have picked up on. Sometimes they’ll tease you (or more likely unsuspecting commissars) when you’re in their company. If he's not able to hold your hand, he'll have a hand on your shoulder or back, always close to you whenever you're both together. He’s extremely dedicated to Chogoris, and it’s incredibly important to him that you adopt some of the culture he grew up in. You don’t have to, but it would make Jagahatai an extremely proud man if you attempted to understand Chogoran. He’s also private; His fellow primarchs don’t even know of your existence let alone close relation to him until you’re well into your romance, and Jaghatai has thoughts for no one else but you.

Konrad Curze:

Konrad’s romance is as toxic as he is. But at the same time, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Because you’re fucking terrified of him, but the man is obsessed with you. Not many of the other primarchs understand the soul crushing, teeth grinding obsession Konrad has for you. He’s willing to fall to his knees and submit to you as long as you tell him you love him, and that he's worth more alive. But if you tell him you don’t?… You don’t want to tell him you don’t. Konrad is painful. He holds your hand too tight, kisses you too rough, bites you too hard. He doesn’t mean it, you don’t think at least some of the time, but he’s so caught in this obsession with someone trying to save him that his martyr complex melts away for a bit and he’s this self-loathing, sad excuse of a man. You almost pity him as much as you love him. Making him happy has become an arduous journey for you. Is the exact opposite of the others in wanting to show you off. You’re hidden for ages, until the primarchs realize Konrad has someone at his side. They worry, but they know separating him from you would cause more harm than good, and you keep Konrad’s emotions a bit more in check. And in the eyes of a few individuals, your safety serves as a good threat to keep Konrad and his unhinged legion on a leash and working towards a desired goal. A note; Konrad is surprisingly selfless in regard to more intimate matters. And he likes to bite. Your thighs don’t get much reprieve from him.

Vulkan:

Sweet as sugar, no one is as good at a proper declaration of love or desire to romance like Vulkan is. No matter how much it breaks his back he’ll always hold your hand, give you a kiss, or pick you up to bring you with him across the Flamewrought or the Terran palace. Besides perhaps Sanguinius and Lorgar, no one is as star-crossed in love with you as Vulkan is.

He’ll do anything for you, if you just ask. He often paraphrases that he would shield you from any threat, but sometimes you fear he’d do it literally. Less seriously he loves to gift you various things, your favorite being a necklace. You never thought he’d be able to work at such a small level, but Vulkan is nothing if not skilled. He got quite the reward the evening he gifted it to you.

Is one of the quicker ones to get serious. Talks of marrying you, writing you down in the history of his legion as their Legion Mother, Vulkan is quite eager to tie himself to you, and you to him.

Corvus Corax:

Corvus is private, and also quite slow to trust. Even slower to admit he likes someone, let alone enough to express that he’s in love with them. Many moments with him are often spent in his private quarters or somewhere else alone, where only you have eyes on him.

Is one of the few primarchs conscious of the fact that he isn’t really meant to exist, and that he’s forcing it by being with you. Your body often bruises and aches if he isn’t careful with you, and it secretly pains him that the one person he loves is so easy for him to hurt. Finding out about this feeling he has swiftly turns you into a mess of reassurances that quickly overwhelm poor Corvus, and while he still feels it at times, he appreciate you trying to soothe him.

Loves to write you letters. He feels like it means more to put the effort into handwriting, and when you send him one back, it’s like he can feel your touch on the paper. One time you left a lipstick kiss on the parchment and the man was insufferable that evening from how pent up he was, unbeknownst to you millions of miles away. You paid for that transgression dearly one he returned.

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lorgar is yet another primarch who is sweet as sugar. He also has quite the way with words, though unlike Horus and Fulgrim, it isn’t intentional. He’s just very passionate and verbose. Is also very touchy. Loves to pick you up and kiss you, show you off to others. He’s so stupidly in love and everyone around him is almost annoyed by it. He just loves his tiny little goddess so much, you bring him light he didn’t know he needed. Lorgar is also very affected by his religious trauma. His self flagellation both emotional and literal has always been an issue. You’ve had nights where you’ve put ice on his back after he whipped himself bloody, crying over his wounds. If it isn’t bad he encourages you to not weep over him, and if it’s worse he often times is beating himself up over worrying you. Being with him is stressful emotionally, to say the least. In another path, he often time beats himself up over the idea of corrupting you with sinful thoughts. Though that doesn’t really stop him, especially if he comes to his quarters one evening seeing you wearing all white draped across his bed. Lorgar will sin alright, but he does it while speaking prayers to save his own soul as he worships you. He’s one of the quickest Primarchs to want to marry you, to make you his own and to bring you closer and closer to his side.

Mortarion:

Mortarion isn’t an easy one to love. He doesn’t really consider the emotion valuable until one day he suddenly realizes that you mean something to him, more than just another baseline human does. Like Ferrus in that he never does the official courtship nonsense, and just upgrades your relationship in his head overtime. Someone who isn’t his lover doesn’t spend hours in the Pale King’s study watching him work, keeping one of his hands in their lap while he uses the other. Is a bit of a pushover in some ways, and takes his self loathing a bit too far sometimes. You’ve learned that sometimes he needs you to kiss him and tell him you love him more than anything else, to get him to stop sulking. Everyone is extremely surprised he found sometime. Let alone someone so personable. Fulgrim jokes that Mortarion should just send you instead of himself to Terra when the primarchs meet up to discuss things, as you’re easier to deal with. Mortarion hates when things like that are said, and he’ll hide you from the world obsessively for awhile after. He loves you, but sometimes for him love and possess get intertwined in his head when he thinks for you.

Magnus the Red:

Isn’t the worst beloved to have, but he has his quirks. He can be a bit stuffy at times, and often times forgets that relationships needs nurturing to grow. Magnus often times gets stuck in his own head and forgets everyone around him, including you. Loves to show off his warp magic to you, especially if you show literally any interest at all. He’s so used to everyone fearing it, fearing him, hating psykers no matter what, that any interest by you gives him hearts in his eyes. You’ll be up all night listening to him read you tomes. Which you don’t mind, it often helps you fall asleep. Since Magnus can change his size, he knows exactly how to make your squirm. You know you’re in for a wild ride when your beloved becomes bigger than Ferrus and starts taking off his armor.

AlphariusOmegon:

The twins are complicated. Given the primarchs consider you only Alpharius’ beloved, you spend more time with him than Omegon. As such, sometimes Omegon can get a bit possessive whenever you two are together. You don’t entirely blame Omegon for it; His other half is the one holding your hand and showing you off, joking about marrying you to his fellow primarchs. As such, those topics tend to be a minefield in your weird little relationship. They often use you to get information about the other Primarchs. It seems your smaller stature makes them almost seem like you're less of a threat, and get a bit more talkative around you than they are around whatever twin is currently frontfacing. You hate when they ask this of you, but you have no power to refuse them. As the twins are extremely meticulous and through, they've been careful to not show anyone how in love with you they really are. If they how just how much Alpharius loves you, it would be easy for you to be used against them. So affection is limited, and they put up an aura that you're not much more than an arm piece when in view of others. They eagerly make sure to show you this isn't the case in private, however.

#fulgrim x reader #perturabo x reader #alphariusomegon x reader #roboute guilliman x reader #jaghatai khan x reader #magnus the red x reader #lorgar aurelian x reader #konrad curze x reader #rogal dorn x reader #mortarion x reader #horus lupercal x reader #corvus corax x reader #angron x reader #vulkan x reader #sanguinius x reader #ferrus manus x reader #leman russ x reader #lion'el jonson x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 14

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 5371

Ao3 Link

Summary: Party plans are coming along, and your hard work is rewarded, but it seems like secrets keep on growing.

Author's Note: I am so jealous of our numbers girl 😭

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Swearing, Smut, Fluff, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation, Degradation, Unprotected Sex (stay safe out there), Bondage, PIV Sex, Large Cock, Masturbation, Cunnilingus, Multiple Orgasms, Comeshot, Dom Mihawk, Dom Crocodile, Switch(?) Buggy, Death Threats, VERY Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

So many hands and lips on your skin, yet all you could feel were the weight of those words.

“You would… ”

“I’ll cut them down for you,” Mihawk whispered, rubbing his face along your neck and ear until your back arched for him. “We’re the only ones that get to make my little rabbit cry. What are their names?”

Crocodile let out a low hum as he settled closer to you, kissing across your shoulder while Buggy smoothed his hands over your legs.

“I don’t…” you choked out, closing your eyes against the dizziness that spun through you. 

“Come here, sweetheart,” Crocodile soothed as he pulled you against him. “Let’s get some sleep. You can write up your kill list in the morning.”

A dream. This is all some crazy dream.

A soft whimper left you as the hot tears staining your cheeks were caught just in time, and you knew it was Buggy’s fingers wiping them away. You sputtered, breathing too fast as you tried to gulp down air, to swallow the overwhelm. Mihawk touched your cheek before letting Buggy join his hands, sliding his body between yours.

“Hey, pretty star,” he soothed, stroking your hair while you clung to him. “I’ve got you.”

~

“How’s my girl?”

Dreams of stormy seas pulled away as that deep voice warmed the back of your neck. 

“Good,” you hummed, Crocodile’s body pressing in behind you. Opening your eyes, you saw Buggy still asleep, having rolled away from you onto his back. Mihawk’s amber eyes shined at you, and your lips parted to see him curled around the clown, resting his head against the other man’s chest while he stared at you. 

“Good. It’s been ages since I had a decent hunting trip. None of your enemies happen to be swordsmen, do they?”

Buggy tensed awake, his body frozen like he was playing dead, while you just gaped at Mihawk. Their offer came rushing back into your stormy mind, and you had no idea what to do with it. 

I can’t.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

All the bodies on the mattress went still.

“You trust us, don’t you,” Crocodile rasped, his voice somehow toeing a line between soothing and threatening. “You can tell us what you want.”

“I told you what I want,” you mumbled, breath catching in fear yet again. Buggy’s hand found your arm, and his warning grip on you was the only movement on the massive bed.

What am I doing?

“Why don’t we get some breakfast,” Mihawk offered lightly. “I prefer discussing murder after my espresso anyway.”

~

There was such a strange tension while you prepared for the day, while Mihawk carried you to the balcony, while they all stared at you over their plates. Chewing the inside of your lip as you tried to eat, you felt their gaze like a weight over your shoulders.

You realized why the tension felt so strange. It felt like the air in a room after a couple’s spat. 

I’m not afraid they’ll hurt me. I’m afraid they’re mad. 

“I’m sorry,” you spilled out, eyes wide as you looked between them all. “I trust you, I’m just not ready to talk about my past right now. Especially if you want me to focus on the party. I don’t want to be distracted.”

You’d expected Buggy to react the best to your apology, but he kept a hint of worry, maybe even hurt in his eyes as he smiled. 

“Alright, sweetheart,” Crocodile nodded, lifting your chin toward him. “But I like secrets just about as much as I like lies. We can wait until after the party, but my patience won’t last forever.”

Mihawk chuckled softly as ice slid down to your gut, and it was only his prodding that got you to eat a decent amount of your meal before you were carried to your desk, your notebook and transponder snail pushed toward you. 

I hate this. I fucking hate this.

Falling into work mode, you schmoozed with your contacts as if you’d never left your old life. That itchy feeling crawled up your spine during every moment of silence, your loud, guilty thoughts only dulled by your work.

It was a long day.

You gratefully accepted a glass of velvety wine as you sat on the couch, Buggy across from you on that green chair. He had a pad of paper on his knee, twirling a pencil in his fingers with a silly amount of flair. He looked so fucking cute like this, his brow creased in thought while he looked up at the ceiling, quirking his lips before jotting down notes. Crocodile and Mihawk had very reluctantly put him in charge of the entertainment, and he was taking it quite seriously.

“We have a full list of attendees, and most will be arriving with a plus one. Here’s the details for the three backers I confirmed today, they’re donations will more than pay for the event,” you reported, pride pushing away some of that tension. “They will expect VIP treatment, of course, but that–”

“Amazing work, sweetheart,” Crocodile praised as he lit a cigar, puffing it a few times while you smiled up at him. 

“You really are a treasure, aren’t you,” Mihawk purred, flipping through your notes. “I’m curious though, what does this, “U,” mean?”

He set your list of contacts in your lap, flipping through a few pages to point out the clients you’d marked with that letter.

“All of your other descriptors are highly detailed, and not a single contact with that letter was invited to the party. Surely we should expand our list of potential backers as much as possible.”

“Let me see,” Crocodile huffed, grabbing your notes to toss on the coffee table. He leaned over them, flipping through the pages before pushing them aside. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabbed you, but didn’t resist when he sat you on the table to face them both. 

“You just told us the invite list was full, yet you didn’t call any of these people with the letter, “U,” next to their names. Explain.”

His scarred face was like a force of nature, like looking into a sandstorm that you knew would swallow you whole. 

“It means un-unreliable,” you gasped, feeling the heat of their scrutiny against your skin. Your next words were hurried, but steadier. “I can call them if you want me to, and I would have if we hadn’t confirmed so many guests. But they talk too much, and they run in circles that could cause issues for the guild. A lot of them have connections to the Marines. I should have explained, I’m sorry.”

It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie. It’s not a lie.

“Why are you so afraid, little rabbit?” That whispered taunt made you shiver as Mihawk took your wine glass, before lifting one of your hands to his lips. “Did you just remember who we are? Only a few days of spoiling you, and you already forgot that you answer to us now, not some failed party clown.”

Crocodile leaned toward you, his hand on your thigh while he studied your face. 

“That idiot didn’t listen to your work, but I expect full reports from now on. You’ll tell us everything you’re doing and why you’re doing it, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” you nodded, gratitude flooding you. 

“Good girl,” Mihawk teased, pulling you back onto the couch. “I would hate to punish you over a misunderstanding. That’s all it was, right?”

“Yeah,” you chirped, catching Buggy’s wide eyes. He looked away quickly, staring at his notes, but his cute thinking process was gone, the pencil not meeting the paper again. 

Thank gods for wine.

A few bottles amongst the group left the awkwardness behind, until nothing but their skin on yours remained. No need to hide on that bed, no need to be anything but theirs. 

That thought tugged you out for just a moment, but you smiled as you gave yourself to these three bad men, yet again.

I chose to be theirs.

~

The tension of that day faded, replaced by that comforting, delicious danger you were always in. They carried you from room to room for the next few days until a shipment arrived. Trunks were carted into the suite after dinner, and Buggy’s floating hands started to open them while you sat nude on the bed. 

“Get your grubby hands off her clothes,” Crocodile ordered lazily, pointing to the trunk on the right. “Bring that one here.”

It was hard to keep your eyes open while Mihawk kissed the back of your neck, long fingers leaving circles on your thighs, until Crocodile leaned down to kiss your cheek.

“Open this one.”

His deep voice was so soft, and you hummed as you reached for the clasp, lifting the heavy lid.

What the fuck?

“Well,” he asked, tapping the contents with his hook. “Do you like them, or should I send for something else?”

“N-no, I love them,” you squealed, grabbing a book from the pile, and running your fingers over the dragon on the cover. You flipped the pages, that lovely scent making you shiver. “Fantasy books…”

You laughed to yourself as you remembered that dinner on the balcony when he’d asked you what you like. Crawling onto his lap, you kissed up his neck while he let out a low chuckle. 

“Thank you, daddy.”

“Mm, anything for my sweet girl.”

“Yes, bring it to the door,” Mihawk ordered into the transponder snail, pulling your attention for a moment, which the scarred man pulled back when he fisted his hand into your hair, sucking marks onto your neck. 

The movements and voices in the room didn’t distract you this time, until a very particular sound rang through the air. 

A meow.

“Really,” Crocodile asked dryly when you left his arms, searching for that sound. 

Mihawk stood by the door, a smug smile tugging at his lips before he met your eyes.

“Would you like to hold him, darling?”

“Why…”

“You like cats, don’t you?”

Your brain paused, the cognitive dissonance these men kept putting you through making it hard to think. 

But another meow from the little brown tabby in Mihawk’s arms shook you loose, and soon you were sitting on the plush carpet, laughing while Buggy floated a gloved hand around like a toy for the cat to chase. 

“Look at all of our pets on the floor,” Mihawk laughed, setting a hand on Crocodile’s shoulder, removing it at the larger man’s narrowed eyes. “Come now, you’re not a fan of animals?”

“I prefer scales to fur,” he grumbled, meeting your smile with a sigh. “And I was hoping not to have to share Y/N’s attention with anymore men.”

You giggled, the furry man in question already bumping his head along your legs, and climbing onto your lap. 

“Does he have a name,” you asked, grinning as your new cat tried to crawl up to your shoulders, rubbing his face along your chin. 

“Not that I’m aware of. He was a stray.”

The image of Mihawk hunting the island for stray cats was too much, so you put it out of your mind while you searched for a name. 

“Adam.”

All three men repeated you, each with a hilariously different tone.

“That’s the least flashiest name ever,” Buggy pouted, scratching behind Adam’s ears. 

“Surprisingly, I agree,” Mihawk chided, tilting his head like a hawk about to fly down to steal the poor cat from your hands. “Why–”

“Why Adam?”

Crocodile’s interruption made everyone but Adam go silent, too much weight in the simple question. Heat rushed to your face, and you blinked up into his serious eyes. 

“It’s from a story my dad used to tell me,” you confessed, closing your eyes as you smiled at the memory of his voice. “About a magic tree that survived endless wars. People kept coming back after the island was destroyed, and they’d rebuild around that invincible tree, the—”

“The Jewel Tree Adam,” Buggy asked, his blue eyes shining as he scooted closer. “It’s not just a story. I sailed on a boat made from a Jewel Tree.”

“Shut up,” you laughed, stealing a kiss from those red lips before anyone could stop you. 

“That wood’s been sold on the black market. It’s rare, but it’s real,” Crocodile asserted. Once again, your mind stopped functioning, Adam bringing you back again, this time with his paw reaching toward your face. 

“So it is a flashy name,” you teased, sticking your tongue out at Buggy.

“Barely,” he rolled his eyes as Mihawk sighed in defeat. 

You helped Buggy arrange Adam’s things in the suite, until Mihawk pulled the cat away from you. 

“Don’t worry, darling. I had my old suite set up for our furry friend. He’ll be across the hall in his own little castle while we rip you apart. I’m sure you wouldn’t want the poor thing to see what we’re about to do to you.”

“You set up…” 

“I’ll show you the cat paradise tomorrow,” he huffed a laugh, petting Adam as he lounged comfortably in his arms. “Now be a good little rabbit for me, and I’ll try to convince Sir Crocodile to let the cat sleep in here when we’re done.”

“Not happening,” Crocodile drawled, hanging up his robe before sitting on the edge of the bed, patting his knee. “Why don't you finish thanking me, since we were so rudely interrupted earlier?”

His satisfied smile made your skin flush as you moved toward him, and you saw his cock twitching beneath his boxers, growing as he watched your bare skin. It made your mouth fall open with need, and with caution that you didn’t think would ever go away. 

“Mm, is my sweet girl still scared of her daddy,” he taunted, palming himself through the thin fabric. 

“But what about...” you started, turning around as Mihawk returned to the room. “I didn't try on any of the clothes.”

“It’s too late for that now,” Mihawk laughed, walking toward you until you backed up against Crocodile, those large thighs surrounding you. “It looks like your daddy wants to check how well you fit something else, isn’t that right?”

“I know she’ll fit just fine. Huh, babydoll,” he pulled you to him, moaning softly at your desperate noises, and your instinctive writhing when your ass rubbed against his hard length. “Did you like daddy’s present?”

“Mhm.”

“Not as much as she li–”

“Why don’t you go sleep in your little cat paradise,” Crocodile cut Mihawk off, his shifting attention keeping you from relaxing into him. 

“I’ve got another pussy in mind for tonight,” the swordsman quipped, and you gasped as a floating hand grabbed yours, tugging you out of reach. 

Buggy wrapped himself around you from behind, so you were caught in his warmth as you both looked at the frightening men in front of you.

“When you fight, she wants me.”

Buggy’s words made you feel too many things at once. They felt sweet, and sad, and territorial, and you didn’t know how to react.

“Is that true, little rabbit,” Mihawk asked, danger growing in his voice. “Do you want the clown?”

Oh, that sounds like a punishment waiting to happen. 

But I can’t lie.

“I do.”

Buggy’s soft noise made you melt against him, until you pressed against that heavy need of his, both of you reacting to the touch.

“Do you see this, Crocodile,” Mihawk gestured toward you with a wicked smirk. “It seems she didn’t like either of our gifts. Would you rather have what this clown can give you?”

You’d started to shake just a bit, not knowing which direction you should turn. Mihawk’s words always seemed to twist you where he wanted you anyway. 

Crocodile took pity on you, clearing up the question. 

“Sweetheart, would it make you happy to fuck that stupid clown?”

Buggy let out another squeak, but he pulled away from you slightly, so you wouldn’t feel how much he needed you. 

“It would make me happy.”

As if he couldn’t help it, Buggy pressed against you again, making you gasp as he rubbed his clothed cock along the meat of your ass, pretty little noises leaving his throat. 

Mihawk charged toward you, and you couldn’t help but noticed the hard weight of his cock through his silk pajama pants. He gave an evil little smirk as he looked down at you, grabbing your cheeks to tilt your face.

“Such a spoiled little rabbit. We give you so many things, so many gifts, but that’s not enough, is it? My precious little slut needs another toy. Needs another cock, even when she’s all stuffed up. What do you think, Crocodile? Does she deserve another gift tonight?”

“Maybe my sweet girl hasn’t realized she’s grown out of her old toys.”

Mihawk’s laugh was sharp, too pleased, and your breath caught when he kissed you, and then Buggy on the cheek. 

“Good point, sandman. Alright, little treasure, we showered you with gifts tonight, and now you get to play with your old favorite toy. Let’s see if it’s still as much fun to play with after we’ve been spoiling you so much.”

You were frozen when Mihawk gestured toward the bed, but Buggy picked you up, floating you to the center of the mattress before crawling up your body, caging you in. 

“This okay, star,” he whispered, barely audible. It woke you up, and you nodded with a smile before he kissed you.

“Just a moment, pets,” Mihawk called, bringing your eyes to him. He and Crocodile pulled the couch all the way up to the bed, staring with hungry eyes that made you shiver. “We want to see if your old toy is still worth playing with. Croc, what do you think her minimum is with us?”

“Four. Minimum,” he said, voice rough as he pulled his boxers off, his massive dick like a looming threat. 

“That sounds about right,” Mihawk agreed as he followed suit, stripping before lounging on the couch, his thick cock drawing your eyes as it twitched slightly. “Let’s see if this toy can pull four orgasms out of our little whore, since she wants to keep it so badly.”

“What if he can’t,” Crocodile asked, his voice full of more dangerous humor than he usually had with Mihawk’s games. 

“There are so many pretty holes on that bed,” Mihawk threatened, his eyes raking over your skin, and Buggy’s as the clown stripped. “If she’s wrong about him after going against our wishes, I think we should break her, and her stupid toy.”

“You hear that, sweet girl,” Crocodile rasped, fingers moving lightly down his shaft, then pressing upward until you noticed that lovely bead of precum start to spill down the side. “Daddy keeps telling you to get over that pathetic clown, but you don’t fucking listen. This is your one chance to prove he’s worth it. If he can’t fuck you properly, then I’m gonna ruin you. Daddy’s cock is gonna tear you into pretty little pieces. You got that?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whined, back arching while Mihawk laughed at you. 

“Should we roll dice to see which hole gets destroyed first,” he smirked, seeming absolutely giddy watching you writhe. His hungry eyes flicked to Buggy as the clown crawled back to you, holding himself above your body. “I suppose it’s show time isn’t it. Go on, clown. Make my little rabbit scream, unless you want to be a useless toy for the rest of your life.”

The insults still made you cringe, but Buggy smiled at you, that gorgeous, blue hair falling down around you like a curtain. 

“Will you be my flashy girl,” he rasped, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “Will you put on a real good show for me?”

“Yes, captain,” you breathed, moaning as he swallowed your smile with a needy kiss. 

“She’ll get that paint all over her,” Crocodile grumbled, but that was the last you heard from them as Buggy left trails of kisses and soft bites down your body, leaving your skin tingling while you laughed.

A gloved hand teased around your face, fingers pressing between your lips until you bit the fabric. He kissed your knees, grinning as you pulled his glove off with your teeth, like you had so many times before. He mirrored you with his other hand, tossing them off the side of the bed like a strip tease. 

Your breath caught when he positioned himself between your legs, so very close to where you needed him. 

“Want me to do that thing you like,” he asked, the heat and confidence in his words making your head tilt back before you could answer.

“Please, Bugs, I need you… ”

“Of course you do,” he agreed, tracing his face down your inner thigh until his breath teased your core. “No one can make you feel how I can, huh, baby?”

Dangerous words. 

Dangerous truth.

“No one, Buggy, please.”

“I’ve got you, gorgeous,” he purred as his hands pulled yours above your head, leaving one hand to trap yours there while the other caressed your body, toying with your chest. “Sing for your captain.”

Sloppy kisses to your clit made you squirm for him, whining as he sucked and teased, until you begged for more.

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear ya down here. Whatcha need, dollface?”

“Gods, your tongue, your nose, Buggy, please.”

“Mm, your pretty pussy missed me that much?”

He chuckled as you whined for him, then tilted his face down to rub that perfect nose over and around your sensitive clit. Part of you heard voices, maybe laughter from the couch, but you were too busy pouting, still begging for more. 

“Your nose feels so good, baby. Give me more, please,” you pleaded as you shifted your hips, fighting for more friction. 

“Since you asked so nicely,” he winked, shoving his face into your dripping cunt while you cried out his name. 

It always felt like he was designed for this, that round nose giving the perfect pressure as he tasted you. You could feel him rutting against the mattress, his needy movements adding to the rhythm. 

That floating hand massaging your chest focused in, and the teasing pinch to your nipple was enough to push you over the edge. He kept that rhythm and pressure to your clit while you came, and you laughed when he yelled “one,” before returning to his work.

“Do you want me deep?”

His eyes were dark, and heavy with need as he checked in. The sight of his drenched, messy face made you moan, taking a few breaths before you could answer.

“I want you so bad, Buggy, please. You make me feel so good,” you praised, gasping as that teasing hand wrapped fingers around your throat, warning, but not squeezing yet. 

“Want me–”

“Choke me, Buggy, fucking take m–”

So many sensations at once. That lovely hand around your neck pressing tight, his face diving into your core as his nose circled your clit again, and his tongue going deep. 

He licked and tasted you, like he was licking his plate clean, but that wicked tongue went further. 

It had freaked you out a bit when he first tried it on you, but there was nothing in the world that could compare to Buggy’s tongue sinking all the way into you, that thick muscle tasting parts of you that no one could touch. It circled around inside you on its own until he found that sweet, spongy spot.

His tongue fucked into that spot, and tears streamed from your eyes while you screamed his name through his choking grasp. He didn’t let up as you rode through that orgasm, just released your throat to raise two fingers toward the couch. 

“Gods, oh fuck, Buggy. It’s too mu–”

His hand clamped over your mouth, and he lifted just enough to shake his head, his tongue too busy for him to reply. He released your face, that hand teasing along your body while he kept up his attack, until he pressed his palm against your lower stomach.

The pressure of his tongue ramming against you from the inside meeting his hand felt like being hit by a fucking train. Your hands almost broke free as you spasmed, the sheer force of pleasure turning you into nothing but twitching, desperate flesh while you came on Buggy’s face.

Your vision came back slowly, sweet hands smoothing over your skin. The feel of his tongue sliding out of you to return to its rightful place arched your back, aftershocks rolling through you. 

“Three,” Buggy bragged, leaving kisses on your arm. You hummed, hardly able to open your eyes.

“Ah, but the goal was four,” Mihawk taunted, his voice tensing through Buggy’s body beside you, “and it doesn’t look like Miss Y/N is able to finish the show. What do you think, Crocodile?”

“She knows what’s gonna happen to her,” he growled, and you rolled your head to the side to watch those frightening gray eyes. He looked at you like you were the last bit of food on a desert island, and his hand fisting over himself made your eyes roll back. 

“The show must go on,” Buggy laughed nervously, his well earned confidence already floating away. 

You reached out to him, your arms shaking until he crawled up your body. You returned his little smile, goosebumps rolling over your skin at the feel of him with you, and all he’d done. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, voice hoarse from him. He looked you over, eyes pouring over your features, until he gave you another smile, wide and wicked. 

“Anything for my star.”

He wasted no time, his thick cock pushing into you easily with all the work he’d done. He let out little whimpers, and you clenched around him, wanting him so fucking bad. But he shook himself, rolling his hips into you as he brought a thumb to dance along your clit. 

“You like putting on a show,” he asked, his voice a bit strained as he fought himself. “I knew you were a star, and you’ve got the audience wrapped around your little finger, huh? Look at how hard their cocks are just for you. Give them a show, baby.”

Buggy’s breathing went rough as he fucked into you harder. He grabbed your cheeks, your lips pressing out as he made you look at them. 

Oh fuck.

Crocodile and Mihawk both had their cocks in their hands, jerking themselves off at the sight of you.

“Buggy, I’m–”

“Fuck, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect…”

He held you close as you fell to pieces together. His racing heart, his ragged breaths, and the scent of his skin felt delicious. Even with the twitching of his cock as he spilled his come into you, even with the orgasm that rocked through you, the overwhelming feeling you had in Buggy’s arms was comfort.

“You feeling good, gorgeous,” he asked softly, kissing along your jaw.

“So good,” you hummed, gasping as he twitched inside you, your body clenching around his. 

“Well done, toys,” Mihawk praised as the weight on the bed shifted. “Now, open wide.”

“You looked so pretty for daddy,” Crocodile praised while Mihawk pulled Buggy off of you. “Be a good girl, and tell me where you want it.”

He bit his lower lip while you stared at his veiny cock, so fucking close. 

“My face. Come on my face, daddy, please.”

“Fuck, gods damn,” he groaned with a breathless laugh. “You are such a good girl. Mm, lick the tip for me sweet– fuck.”

You could already feel his come dripping down your skin when you reached out to taste him, his last shuddering moan making him thrust lightly against your mouth. 

“Look at you,” he purred, tracing his thumb over your lips after you licked them clean. 

“Our pets have been very well behaved today,” Mihawk praised, moving close beside the larger man before gesturing toward Buggy’s come-covered face. You let out a giggle, then tried to apologize when he met your eyes. 

“Not the matching face paint I was thinking of, but I’ll take it,” he interrupted with a wink, earning very subtle, but real chuckles from the other men on the bed. 

Crocodile pulled you against his chest, and you realized that in this moment you felt comfort with all three of these bad men. You grinned to yourself at the thought of what home meant to you while you watched Mihawk play with the come that had spilled down to Buggy’s chest. 

“Let’s get cleaned up, pets,” he said brightly, managing to crawl gracefully out of the bed. “We can’t have Adam curling up on these sticky sheets.”

“No cats on the bed,” Crocodile ordered, frowning at your pouting lip. “Don’t you start.”

“Sorry, daddy,” you laughed as you rolled away from him. 

Buggy grabbed your hand, and you laughed your way to the bathroom, leaving the other men to argue about the new furry roommate. Buggy tossed you a washcloth, and you both wiped what you could of those men off of your skin before he started the shower. He pulled you in to press you against the far wall. 

“There’s something I didn’t get to tell you before…” he whispered, tilting his nose away so he could be closer to your face while the water drowned out his words. “Can I tell you now, pretty star?”

His deep blue eyes seemed deeper than you’d ever seen, and your breath caught in your throat. 

Why am I tense? 

“Okay,” you managed to whisper, waiting to breathe properly again. 

He nodded a few times as he looked down, before cradling your face, rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. 

“I know things are– well you know how it is, but…” he trailed off, scanning your face as if watching every movement. 

“Buggy…”

“I love you, Y/N,” he confessed, his brows lifting high as his breathing seemed heavy, heavier as he waited for you to reply. He stared at your parted lips until more words hurried out of him. “I loved you before, and I still love you now. You’re my pretty star, no matter what, right?”

The worry in his voice broke you out of your stupor, and you wrapped your arms around him. 

“Buggy, I–”

He pulled you under the water, the heat making you gasp as the door to the bathroom opened.

“Here you are, pets. Sir Crocodile’s list of expectations if Adam is to stay with us.”

Mihawk dropped a pad of paper onto the counter, cocking his head at you both while Crocodile followed close behind. 

“Why haven’t you started on that hair? It’s late enough as it is,” Mihawk tutted, and you couldn’t keep your mouth from falling open as you watched Mihawk take Buggy’s long hair into his hands. Buggy’s eyes fluttered shut at the swordsman’s touch, but his words kept ringing in your ears, even as Crocodile smiled at you, hunching down to rinse his hair. 

Adam wasn’t allowed in tonight, so it was just the four of you climbing onto that giant bed, four of you pressed in so close. You and Buggy curled in against each other’s chests, with Crocodile around your back, and Mihawk curling around Buggy to lay his long fingers somewhere along your side. 

Tonight Mihawk’s fingers teased along your ribs, his thumb almost tickling as it played down your stomach. Crocodile kissed the back of your head, and your comforting sleeping arrangement was complete. 

Something about the way Buggy held you felt different. 

Is it different? Or did I just not notice it before?

His breathing was slow, and the way he stroked your hair and pressed his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss should have been comforting. 

You should have fallen asleep by now. 

Instead, you laid there as the three men around you fell asleep. You laid there in the most comfortable, most comforting position you’d ever been in. 

But you couldn’t fall asleep. 

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: BUGGYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!! 😭🤡

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl |

Part 15

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

#cross guild smut #mihawk smut #sir crocodile smut #buggy smut #one piece smut #cross guild x reader #mihawk x reader #sir crocodile x reader #buggy x reader #crocodile x reader #reader insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #x reader #one piece fanfic #buggy fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader #smut #use of y/n #turtletaub fics

[tac-the-unseen]

Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Will Graham Headcannons

Fluff, Minor edits for formatting!

Involves: Cooking, sleeping, art, tattoos, piercings, dates, funny little ideas

•While Hannibal is mostly the one cooking when you, him, and will are in a kitchen together it get a bit chaotic.

•You're decent at cooking but Will is a hot mess compared to you and Hannibal (that doesn't mean he's a bad cook, just not as good as you guys are). But you and Hannibal have no problem guiding and teaching him. It's a great bonding experience for all of you.

•When Hannibal talks in the kitchen you and Will call him 'chef'. Hannibal loves it but will never admit to it.

•All of you share a bed but you also have separate bed in another room that is used when one of you really needs your sleep or space. None of you talk about but it has really saved your relationship...multiple times.

•Hannibal mostly uses it when he has an important event coming up and needs to get a full night's rest.

•Will mostly uses it when he feels like the world is caving in on him and needs to get away.

•You mostly use it when you're mad that them or need to work a late shift.

•Hannibal loves taking you and Will to museums and art galleries. He loves digging through the layers of the art to get to its over all meanings.

•Everyone knows Hannibal likes to play the 'sugar daddy' role but he appreciates when you or Will try and contribute with the costs.

•Will isn't a fan of pet names. He thinks it's weird and kind of degrading, but if you or Hannibal use one or two, he won't complain. Especially if it's to comfort him during an episode.

•That being said if you call him William he immediately thinks he's in trouble for something. If he's not in trouble he will pout about you using his full name.

•On the other hand Hannibal loves pet/nick names. If you call him darling or love he will internally swoon.

•Will doesn't like to be touched and you and Hannibal are not expections. He can deal with touch but he's not happy about it. If you touch him while he's having a break down he with scream, shout, and cry.

•You can get away with cuddling at night but just barely. Be careful about your hand placement.

•If Will is losing an argument he'll say 'nah huh' and Hannibal without a beat will say 'yeah huh' right back.

•You and Will have woken up after a nap to find Hannibal sketching you several times. If he finds either of you asleep he'll run to get his sketch book and maybe some tea and gets to work.

•Hannibal is 10,000% a bridezilla. If you could get married he would be a nightmare to deal with. He might call off the whole wedding if he doesn't get the flowers he wants. And the catering, dear god the catering. He got so upset he thought about just making the food himself...day of...

•If Hannibal ever gets sick he feel guilty because he feels like he should be the one taking care of you two, not that other way around.

•If you have tattoos or piercings Hannibal will just and stare that them. He wants to mesmerize every piece of you. In his spare time he finds him self drawing up concept art for more future tattoos. He doesn't show you any of them,but if you find one and end up getting it tattooed on you he might just have a heart attack.

•Very Interested in the tattoos/piercings healing process. Like he knows but he just likes to watch.

•Will likes to trace said tattoos and even considers getting a matching one with you!

•If Hannibal spots you and/or will getting overwhelmed overstimulated in public he hold your hand and whisper affirmations to you two.

Thanks for reading <3

#hannibal lecter #will graham #gn reader #hannigram #hannibal x reader #will graham x reader #Hannibal x reader x will #hannibal #nbc hannibal #slashers #boyfriends

[nvuy]

What are your thoughts about BootHill and his robotic body in terms of the question if he feels anything on it or not?👀 And,,, does he have the nether regions,,, are they detachable?

What are your professional thoughts on this?

mdni. sorry to burst your bubble, but if we are being realistic, nope. he doesn’t have anything down there, nor does he feel any sort of physical pleasure, pain, or overwhelming cold or heat. he’s made of metal. half the reason he probably wins all of his stand offs is because the opponent’s bullets just bounce off his chest like they’re made of rubber.

“what did you do today, honey?”

“oh, i got shot ‘bout twenty times.” and there’s barely a scratch on him.

i think he’d turn to a strap. since he’s basically a barbie doll, it’s quick and simple and it does the job. i think having a section between his legs where a literal metal cock would attach and detach would be unlikely. he’s a galactic cyborg space cowboy and was made for ulterior motives by others, so i don’t think he’d have a slot down there for anything. sad face

if by some miracle his creators thought it would be funny to give a cyborg a cock, then, yeah, it would detach, like all his other limbs. where he’d put it, who knows. in my opinion he’d probably throw that shit out. not worth his time. he wasn’t made for romance in his past life, nor was he brought back for something so… mundane.

and then starts kicking rocks when he meets you, because now he has a use for it. god forbid he goes back to his creators, first explains he’s thrown out the “you-know-what’s” (poor thing can’t say the actual word) and then admits he needs a new one. he’d throw himself off a cliff (and live) before he’d do anything like that.

however, it could probably be used for some insane temperature play. he’s already cold to the touch—(don’t touch him in the summer sun, though. it’s like touching a hot stove.)

but yeah, in my opinion, he’d probably just have a strap. coolest part is you can go buy whatever you want for him to wear. he’s gonna ruin you with all he’s got anyway. that’s a promise.

#$. after hours #$. love mail #$. anon #hsr boothill x reader #boothill hsr #honkai star rail #boothill x you #boothill x reader

[soapymansuds]

Eternity and Counting

(Pt1) This is a running piece I've nearly finished, but the whole thing is way too long to post as one chapter sooooo... This part's pretty short just for the sake of timeline splitting.

Obey me! X Angel!MC (They/Them Pronouns)

TW: Suicide, depression, self-deprecation, death, big feelings, lots of sad, everybody is crying like all the time

MC just can't handle anything anymore and takes their own life. Imagine their dismay to find even death isn't the end for them.

(Takes place in the Frost Flowers event (sorta?), with mild "that chapter where MC finds out they're the Bridge" spoilers. Can't remember which chapter that was.)

~/\~

It's so heavy. This grand weight I've been lugging around since that day. I should have died. I was supposed to die. I would have deserved it too. All I've ever managed to do was cause problems for this family. And maybe I still am. The idea almost stopped me. Visions of their faces. Their tears. Their grief. It did, actually. A few times at least. But not today. It's happened again. Everything was going just fine until that God-forsaken dog decided I would be the object of his affection. Somehow, in spite of the threat it faced to the nation, the brothers refused to just hand me over. Almost losing not just their home, but their kingdom, for my sake. Yet again wasting their time trying to save me. Just like they did when my stupid power nearly killed Lucifer. When Lucifer nearly killed HIMSELF to save me. A bitter, evil part of me is still mad at Michael for stopping me. For saving me.

My arms feel heavy as lead as I lay here, counting away the seconds. I've got nearly an hour before anybody gets home from RAD. Plenty of time to make sure I stay dead. I feel a little bad for lying about being sick to get out of classes today. But maybe I am. Doesn't matter much now anyway. Really, my biggest concern in the current moment is how long it will take Barbatos to notice the ingredients I took. Sure, he's in classes right now too, but he pops in and out of the castle all day long. The likelihood of him stopping into the kitchen and noticing the cracked cabinet door, the scavaged shelves, and finally the open jars is uncomfortably high. In my defense, the chances of that happening while I was there were equally high, so I can't be blamed for the messy crime. But he's only got a few moments more before his discovery will be for naught, so I suppose it's not terribly worrying.

I can feel it, creeping up my spine like a cold massage. The ever-growing numbness. The slow death of my limbs. My lungs. Me. It's growing darker now, unnaturally so, even for The Devildom. I can finally free them of my burden. Free myself of it too. But I would like to offer a final scorn to whatever God allowed me to hear the gentle creaking of the front door.

~/\~

(Mammon's POV)

A chill runs through my spine,like something ominous is lurking behind me, but as I turn around, nobody's there. In spite of that comfort, I can't shake this overwhelming dread coating my nerves and sinking into my bones, urging me to move. Driving me to jog home. The gentle sway of the bag on my arm becoming notably more violent as it begins swinging by my side.

My hands can't work fast enough as I try to unlock the front door. I break into a near sprint as I approach their door, slamming it open.

"MC?" I call, it's dark in their room, but I can just make out the shape of their body resting in their bed. "Oh, you're just sleeping." I mumble, walking up to their bed and setting the bag on the ground next to it.

"Hey, I gotcha some human world medicines." I whisper, pulling a few bottles from the bag. "C'mon, you gotta wake up and take some."

I can't help but roll my eyes at their lack of reaction. "Been spending too much time with Belphie." I reach up to shake their shoulder gently.

Nothing happens. So I try again, fingers gripping just barely tighter. Tight enough to feel the unsettling chill of their skin. It seeps through my fingertips and into my soul. Gripping my heart in white hot fear.

"MC, wake up." I shake them again. "MC." Their name falls from my lips like a plea. "MC please-" I grab their other shoulder. "MC!" Tears spill from my eyes, breath shaky and ragged. "Wake up!"

(Raghhhh, sorry about this)

-Your dear friend, the author

#obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #obey me diavolo #diavolo x reader #obey me angst #why did i make this #send help #obey me leviathan #obey me x mc #obey me belphegor

[pinkbubbles06]

Rosekiller Headcanons Pt. 2

Part 1

These may be out of order or be repeating from pt 1 but it’s only cuz I got excited…

Annnyyyyywayyyyy…. HERE WE GO!!

* Barty would be that type of person to have a thought process along the lines of “Evan deserves someone better than [insert name of whoever Evan is currently dating here]. If it were me dating him, I’d treat him much better.”

* And then he would proceed to not think on that any harder.

* Every time Barty gets an angry owl from his dad, he gets so overwhelmed by anger to the point being called by their name makes him want to scream. So all his friends start calling him "idiot" "pretty boy" "raccoon" "dumbass" respectivly until he calms down.

* lets not get it twisted, evan was 100% crazier than barty.

* Before they got together Barty would beg Pandora to make flower crowns so he could give them to Evan. If the flower crowns were from anyone else Evan would burn them on the spot. But anything from Barty he cherished forever.

* The second barty would come bounding up the hill towards him in spring, flower crown in hand, Evan would smile gently as Barty placed it on his head with such pride and joy.

* After they got together, Barty made Panda teach him how to make them so he could do it himself.

* Evan spends half his time saying "shut the fuck up" to Barty because weird stupid shit always falls out of his mouth

* (and he does shut up 'cause that man is whipped)

* Barty always forgoes pockets for the sake of fashion, and so Evan’s pockets are always full of random things of Barty’s that Barty can’t carry in his hands

* Barty is a mommas boy ™️

* Barty was shorter than Evan for the longest time but in 3rd year he had a growth spurt in the summer and was towering over Evan when they say each other on the train.

* Barty would talk to his mother about everything and everything and he mostly spoke of Evan.

* Barty’s mom had a beautiful garden and Barty asked her if she could teach him to plant roses one summer.

* When Evan came over the next summer Barty was so proud to show him the roses he grew just for him.

* barty whose eyes are locked on Evan’s throat, he wants to leave his marks all over there, bite the soft and perfect looking skin, make it his home

* then he gets hit over the head by dorcas with a pan, and she tells him to be normal

* Barty always found it real hot when Evan gets pissed and bangs someone’s head into a wall until their blood is running down their face. He loved it when Evan was insane.

* (Evan is more crazy than Barty is. Period. You can’t convince me otherwise.)

* Regulus never understood why Evan and Barty were so deranged sometimes. He’s a good child.🥲

* evan's last thought before being hit by moody's bombarda was the way barty smiles between their kisses

* Barty would always absentmindedly play with Evan’s hair at all times

* Whenever they would go out in the winter, Evan you always tell Barty to bring a coat, even though he knows he will end up carrying it for Barty because coats make him feel trapped sometimes.

* He would just be like: "wear a jacket, it's cold out!”

* And Barty would be like: ”uggghhhhh fineeeee!!!”

* Barty always opened the door for Evan or pulled his seat out before he sat down

* Evan: did you eat today?🤨

Barty: yes….👀

Evan:

Barty:

Evan: eat something love.😘

Barty:

Barty: fine.😒

* Barty wants so bad to be Evan’s trophy wife lol

* After Barty proposed, he would daydream of the moment he first sees Evan at the altar. Like. He’s so in love guys.

* barty absolutely LOVES valentine’s day and uses it as an excuse to be as publicly sexual as possible, loudly flirtatious, and is wrapped around evan like a condom

* evan pretends to DESPISE valentine’s day, acting like he forgets about the occasion just to get on Barty’s nerves- dodging his attempts to flirt / touch, and makes a show to be as unromantic as possible. on the inside, he’s squealing and kicking his feet

* Even hated Barty at first they would argue sooooo much!!!

* But then Barty grew on him like he does with every one

* Evan loves making Barty cry during sex. Especially if he is overstimulated.

* Evan loooovvvveeeessss overstimulating Barty during sex. (Barty loves it too btw lol)

* Ives said it before and I will say it again because it need to be a thing. EVAN IS NOT NOT TIMID AND HESITANT!!!! HE IS A PHYCO!!!! HE IS WORSE THAN BARTY GUYS!!! LIKE COME ON!!!!! IK I SAID THAT THE FIST TIMEHE AND BARTY DANCED HE WAS INSECURE BUT THEY WERE REALLY YOUNG AROUND THAT TIME!!! LIKE 14!!! (At least in my head…) AFTER THAT INE TOME HE WAS SOOOOO CONFIDENT!!!

* (sorry for yelling lol)

* Any way….

* if you don’t think regulus had a little sign with the amount of times barty got pushed off the beds for being a little shit ur so wrong

* Barty‘s mother had a huge family estate in the countryside that Barty’s mother and he would go and live in during the summer. it’s also where her garden is. Barty would drag Evan along every time

* Barty’s dad lived in the city because of his job…

* They announced their relationship on April Fools and were both laughing their ass off watching Hogwarts try to figure out if they were actually dating or not.

* Evan is really shitty about being woken up. like if he falls asleep on the couch just leave him there, don’t wake him up to try and get him to go to bed because he will bite your head off. When Barty finds him on the couch in the common room he will settle down and cuddle up next to him and read a book. Or take a nap with him lol. Depends

#barty crouch jr #rosekiller #evan rosier #barty crouch junior #marauders #harry potter #marauders era #barty jr #regulus black #james potter

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

#marauders era #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fic

[lolathestoryteller]

mission (im)possible (April 30th prompt; Rational) @jilymicrofics

Lily shares a quick look with James, both of them now seated at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, facing their son.

Their almost seventeen years old son.

“So…what’s up Snitch?” James asks, and as always, he seems perfectly able to keep his grin on, although Lily knows they both feel uneasy.

In fact, they’d both hardly been able to think of anything other than this moment for the entire day, ever since Harry’s asked them about a chat after dinner.

Now, he looks just as worried as them. Though, Lily would think that that’s hardly possible.

“I’ve got a plan.” he replies his Dad, clasping his hands together on the table. “And…you probably won’t like it.”

Lily purses her lips. She is already sure she won’t like it. “A plan?” she asks, raising her brow. “What for?”

It’s unnecessary really, to ask that, for it could only ever be one thing, yet Lily still hopes it wouldn’t be that.

Anything but that.

James stirs next to her, leaning onto his elbows. “You’re not dropping out, kid, are you?” he jokes, chuckling amusedly—

Until they both see the sinister look on Harry’s face.

James falls quiet at once, glancing over at her before he looks back at their son. “You’re not—“

“I am.” Harry‘s decisive voice cuts James off. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”

Lily can only stare back at him — at the boy, their boy, with way too many burdens, all unjustly placed upon his young shoulders. It’s painfully overwhelming, because she still remembers, like it was yesterday, how he used to be so much smaller. How he’d held onto her hand whilst going out, or asked for bedtime stories and good night cuddles.

Lily’s heart clenches. How fast did the years pass? Spiting any rational thought, she can’t help but wish she could have frozen time, just for a little while.

Because now, she can’t help but mourn for the carefree little boy Harry had been. How could she not? When her son looks so utterly worn and tired these days.

“You don’t have to,” James protests, and Lily can hear the frustration clear in his voice.

She places her hand upon his arm to calm him, whilst her eyes bore intently into Harry‘s. “Why do you think that?” she asks him calmly.

Harry looks away, towards the small kitchen window. “I…can’t tell you.”

James sighs, before he takes Harry‘s hand into his over the table. “Yes, you can. Common Snitch, you know we want to help.” he tries. “Tell us.”

Lily nods her head eagerly. “Your Dad’s right, love.” she adds, taking his other hand. “You can tell us.”

For a moment, when their son‘s green eyes flicker up to look at her and James, he seems so close to tell them — tell them everything that’s been worrying him so much. But it’s too fleeting a moment for Lily to even be sure she hadn’t just imagined it.

“I can’t.” he insists instead, pulling his hands away. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Lily can see the truly apologetic look in his eyes, though that doesn’t help to ease her worries.

“I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t.”

Dumbledore?

Lily’s eyes flutter closed for just a second, as she silently curses the man that, although he’d always been a good friend, had more than once now disappointed her.

Even in death, his mysterious plans still seem to be continued, with Harry as their main act — which goes against everything she and James have wanted for their boy.

James’s hand clutches into a fist on the table. “What?” he asks angrily. “Why would he want you to promise him that?”

He’s angry. Lily can tell that he’s so very short of raising his voice. She can understand him for it too, for she feels just as frustrated.

Harry on the other hand remains almost stoically calm. “Because he knew it wouldn’t help if I did,” he explains. “You can’t help me this time.”

And just like that, Lily’s resolve crumbles.

“Don’t say that.” she argues fiercely, her unnaturally pitched tone a clear reflection of her own despair.

“Mum, it’s fine—“ Harry sighs tiredly, as though he’d known this would happen. As though no matter what Lily says, he’d already made up his mind.

“It’s far from fine!” she retorts anyways, fighting best she can the sudden feeling of tears in her eyes. “I don’t care what Albus told you. We can help, and we will.”

Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Lily’s too deeply upset to let him. “You can’t just decide to do this on your own, Harry. I won’t let you. We’re in this together, we’ve always been—“

“We’ve never been in it together!” Harry interrupts, jumping to his feet.

Lily can’t help but flinch, her words dying on her tongue as she stares at him, utterly shocked by his uncharacteristic outburst. She can’t recall him ever reacting like this in her presence before.

“Harry,” James warns. “Don’t talk to your Mum like that.”

But Harry only shoots him a quick look, ignoring his warning, before his blazing eyes lock with her’s once more. “You can’t help me.” he insists. “And you should stop trying to convince yourselves otherwise.”

His words rip Lily’s heart into shreds. Not only because he’d said it with such unwavering conviction, but because deep down, Lily knows he’s right.

It hurts worse than any torture curse ever could.

“Harry!” James exclaims loudly, standing up as well.

“What?” he bites back, but where any other person might see anger, Lily now sees her son‘s very best attempt to steel himself.

It’s better they’d be angry with him, rather than heartbroken, before he’d leave. Suddenly, it all makes sense.

Slowly, she stands up, and without another word, walks around the table until she’s just an arm’s length away from her son. “You don’t have to go.” she says quietly, tears once again filling her eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”

Harry turns away from James to look at her with sad, but unwavering eyes. “Mum—“

“No, please,” Lily repeats quickly, taking hold of his arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You can’t— Dumbledore could be wrong.” she implies, biting her lower lip. “I can’t let you go.”

It’s finally out. Lily can’t let go, not when there’s a chance that she’d never—

“I can’t let you risk your life.” she says fiercely, as she pulls him closer to her, until their foreheads almost touch.

“Like you did?” Harry asks knowingly.

Lily curses her son‘s wit in that moment. “It’s different,” she argues, although she knows that really, it isn’t different at all. “I wanted to protect you—“

“I know.” Harry smiles slightly. “And now, I can finally return the favour.”

#harry potter #james potter #lily potter #jily microfic #jily #harry potter and the deathly hallows #horcruxes #jily lives #angst #last day last prompt