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nereidprinc3ss · 19 days

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come on home

in which the only person who can comfort you after your breakup with spencer reid, is spencer reid

inspired by the song "summer's end" by the artist currently known as phoebe bridgers

wc 2857

warnings: gn!reader (correct me if im wrong), minor mommy issues, angst, happy ending

a/n: thank you to the person who requested this:) u r an angel and I listened to this song the whole time i wrote (if you haven't heard, listen!!) i sincerely hope you enjoy, i like this one a lot<3

She hung up on you.

Forty-seven minutes of being insulted and berated after you’d called her looking for comfort, and you put up with every single cruel word—just for your mother to hang up on you. And it’s exactly the kind of thing she’d do, so you shouldn’t be surprised. An ache, you’d expect—but it shouldn’t sting like this. You thought you knew better.

Now you’re in a ball on your couch, clutching your phone to your chest and crying. There’s no point hiding it. Your roommate is out with her girlfriend for the evening—which is too bad because even though you feel like being alone, you’re sure that’s the wrong call. Your other friends are out having fun tonight, too. They’d even invited you, but you turned them down. Look where that had gotten you. Obviously, your mother is not the person you’re about to run to for comfort, either.

You try to pretend, while you’re thinking of all these people who have ever cared for you, that Spencer Reid isn’t on your mind at all. You try to pretend like you don’t care that the person who loved you until you believed you actually deserved it is a contact going stale deep in the bowels of your text cache. With bleary eyes you scroll down, looking for your conversation where it gathers dust—the end of your relationship was a mutual decision, and you’re friendly, but you haven’t texted in a few weeks. Probably because every time the conversation starts to feel a little too easy, or the phone call lasts a little too long, that aching void in your chest gets worse and worse. Like pain in a phantom limb, you become acutely aware of what you do not have and how much it hurts.

So blame it on the tears, or the mind-muddling melodrama of your relationship with your mother, blame it on anything but the truth—when your thumb drops on that call button like the plunger on a syringe, you don’t regret it.

What you’re not expecting is for him to answer after the first ring.

“Hi,” you say with a snuffle before Spencer can get a word in. There’s a brief interlude, in which you pick at your nails, comfortable to just sit in silence if that’s what he wants. As long as he’s there.

“Hi.” Hearing his voice instantly melts a bit of the weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. Another pause, for which you remain silent, because you can feel him formulating a question—and you’d like to hear him speak again. “...am I allowed to ask if you’re okay?”

Your lips purse and twist to the side, pained and comforted by how easily he can tell that you’re distraught. One word across a tinny connection, and he knows.

“No. Yes. I mean... I guess that’s why I called you. But you don’t have to ask me about it.” You sniff again and take a deep breath. “How was your day? What state are you in?”

“I’m in the district,” he answers after a moment, easing into a casualness that he likely doesn’t feel for your sake. Wind crunches through the speaker. He probably just got out of work. “My day was... it was good. I got to talk about my job to a bunch of elementary schoolers, which is always a confidence boost.”

You chuckle, still laying on your side on the couch and watching storm clouds gathering outside.

“Nice, nice. What else?”

“Let’s see... I forgot lunch, so I had three oranges, and they were actually pretty good. I reread Game of Thrones—I don’t know why I did that. I’m never going to like that book.”

“Masochist,” you smile. He laughs, and you hear the sound of a car door opening.

“Oh! I talked to my mom. Believe it or not, she says hi.”

A completely inadvertent snort constitutes your response. It’s not what you meant to do, and out of context it’s sort of mean, but you actually think it’s incredibly endearing that he still talks to his mother about you. He scrambles to explain himself.

“I swear, we barely talked about you this time. Mostly we talked about her new boyfriend Leonard.”

“No, no, that’s not... I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you or your mom. That’s really sweet, actually. Tell her I say hi too.”

When he next speaks, you can hear the smile in his voice.

“I will.” Another long pause. You imagine him sitting in the parking lot at Quantico, keys vertical in the ignition of his old car and feeling the silence just as much as you are. He surprises you by not ending the conversation—instead he asks a question. It is concern, poorly disguised with nervous humor. Or maybe you just know him too well. “Do I get to find out what’s on your mind, or are you leaving me in suspense here?”

You bite the inside of your cheek.

“Um... well, actually, I just got off the phone with my mom, too. It didn’t go so well,” you laugh halfheartedly, “I know it was dumb to try and have an actual conversation with her, but... you know me. Always following blind optimism to the depths of hell.”

“Why’d you call your mom?” he asks, so gently it brings a fresh round of tears to your eyes. Still, you attempt to put a cheerful affect on your strained voice.

“Mm, you know. Just needed someone to talk to.”

Spencer’s knowing sigh does little to make you feel better.

“You know you can always talk to me, right? I know it’s... it’s different now, but... I care about you a lot. And, you know, I receive very few phone calls, so the line is pretty much always open.”

Your laugh quickly devolves into a cry.

“I appreciate that, but I can’t talk to you about everything.”

“Why not?” he pleads immediately, voice thin and desperate like it’s his most burning question. A million lies dance over the tip of your tongue. A million things that feel safer to say than the truth. But in the end, it comes out anyway—choked, and so quiet, but aloud nonetheless.

“Because I’m trying really hard to stop missing you so much.”

Another long beat of silence. The back of your throat feels dry and hollow—a cage for your hummingbird heart.

“If it hurts too much to talk to me, you don’t need to do that to yourself. But I also don’t want you to hurt yourself thinking you’re alone. You are... so important to me. I will always try to take care of you the best I can—whether that means staying away or being at your front door. If you ever need me, or even... vaguely want me, I will be there.”

Each word caves your resolve. Each syllable is a slap in the face to progress you’d been pretending to make. You can be strong—you've proven that over the past ten weeks. You can be stone-faced and slash at your heart until the scar tissue is thick and jagged, and eventually it won’t hurt anymore. But maybe, by letting someone tend to the wounds, they’ll heal a little nicer. A little kinder. Even if you can’t undo the damage, maybe one day you’ll be soft again.

“What if I vaguely want you right now?” you sniffle.

Finally, you hear the silver jingle of keys turning. The sputter and rumble of an old engine coming to life.

“Then I’m on my way.”

Twenty four minutes later, there’s a soft knock at your door.

After the call had ended, you’d wondered if you made it all up. Surely your ex-boyfriend wasn’t actually about to show up at your apartment. Someone you’ve grieved for can’t just come back—there are countless horror novels and movies based upon that very tenet. Does it matter if they ever actually died? How long is ten weeks, really? It feels like a lifetime.

You shuffle across the room, wiping under your eyes with your already damp sleeves, and undoing all the locks Spencer had conditioned you to start using. When the door cracks open, and you see Spencer standing there, windswept and concerned, for the first time in months, it hits you like a tidal wave. You are, beyond a shadow of a doubt, still just as in love with him as you ever were. The relief that floods your veins as he looks down at you with so much care in his eyes is like sinking into warm water. It’s a dead giveaway, and maybe it makes this whole thing a terrible idea, but you can’t seem to care very much. You open the door wider, and he enters, and he stands in your kitchen with his hands in his coat pocket as you shut the door and he’s perfect. It dawns on you that for the first time since the breakup, you feel safe. Like you don’t have to be a stone pillar anymore. This, of course, translates into even more tears, which you try to hide as you face away, re-locking the door.

“Sweetheart...” he sighs, because you can’t hide anything from him. Hearing the resonance of his voice so close to you once more is overwhelming. In an instant you’re rushing into his arms, and he accepts you without hesitation. You bury your teary face in the vetiver safety of his button-up and slip your arms under his coat, as if you could absorb his warmth and forever hide from the world that way. He pulls you even closer. It’s terrible and cruel how much he is exactly what you needed. “What’s wrong? What did she say?”

You shake your head and gasp a small sob.

Truthfully, you’re not really crying about the petty insults from your mother anymore. You’re back to square one, the reason you’d called your mother to begin with—you miss the man whose arms are currently wound around your shoulders.

His hand smooths over the back of your hair.

“Okay. That’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.”

You stay like that—content even as you cry because being with him feels so much safer than being alone. It feels right—or perhaps it’s just familiar. You don’t know which is worse.

Spencer is rubbing soothing lines up and down your back as you cling to him, soaking him up in all his ephemeral, comforting glory. He surprises you by chuckling—it vibrates through his chest, buzzing against your ear.

“Nice Magritte print. I bet the person who bought that has fantastic taste.”

“Are you gonna ask for it back?” you mumble into the fabric of his suit jacket. He is, of course, referring to the painting you’d more or less stolen from his apartment seven months ago. You really don’t want him to take it home. It’s the most overt Spencer memorabilia you’d allowed yourself to keep in plain sight.

“No, baby. You can keep it.” The words are low, and kind, and they settle you some, but you can’t seem to get him close enough. “What can I do?” he whispers after a moment, helpless as you take a shuddering breath. “Can I make you tea? Have you eaten?”

“Will you just... stay for a little bit? I’ll—I promise I’ll stop crying.”

There is an unexpected lull where you thought you’d receive pretty immediate agreement, but before you can pull back and ask what’s wrong, he murmurs, “yeah. I can stay for a while. But you have to kick me out before it gets too late.”

You wonder if you’re imagining the double-entendre that seems to underline his words in bold red ink. Spencer is too smart to have not noticed a thing like that. You don’t mention it—it all boils down to the same unspoken idea.

Don’t let me stay, because I might not leave.

“I will,” you sniff, finally stepping back and wiping your own tears. It hurts to lose his touch, but at least you know he’s not going anywhere for the next few hours. This, as opposed to everything else lately, can be a beginning instead of an end.

At least, until he goes home.

Three and a half hours later, after tea, an impromptu dinner comprised mostly of cheese and crackers, and several vinyl changes on your record player (which served only as background noise for your long, ambling conversations), things are seeming to wind down to a natural stopping point. Which you hate. The whole time you’d had a dull ache in your chest because talking to him was easier than breathing and you knew it wouldn’t last. There had been one or two false bottoms already—the first when you’d yawned around nine, and the second when you’d gotten up to do your skincare and brush your teeth half an hour later. Even then he’d just leaned against the doorframe, watching your reflection above the sink as you talked for fifteen more minutes. Now you stand across from each other in the kitchen, plates restacked and everything in order. Of course he’d insisted on helping you clean up.

“I should go,” he says, with a soft sort of finality in his voice.

“Is your carriage turning into a pumpkin?” you tease gently, to hide how much you don’t want him to leave. He smiles—a small, weary thing—but genuinely and endlessly charmed by you.

“That among other things.”

“Would you—would you walk me to my room first?”

The hesitance is clear in his eyes and the way his lips part as if to say, ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea’, but you're sure he’s really going to leave in a moment and you’re also sure he won’t deny you this one small thing before he does.

“Okay.”

It’s a short, silent walk through the living room and down the hall to your bedroom door, but you can feel him trailing behind you the whole way. You stop in front of your open door, turning face to face with him.

“Thanks,” you murmur.

His lips pull into a melancholy smile.

“Anytime.”

There’s nothing left to do but wrap your arms around each other once more, tuck yourself into the you-sized space between his head and shoulder and hold on for as long as he’ll let you. The hug lingers for longer than is wise. Spencer adjusts his arms looped around your waist, pulling you closer, and you nuzzle against his neck, grateful that at least he seems as reluctant to let this end as you are.

But eventually, it relaxes. Your hold on each other loosens. His face is just inches from yours, and you get to study every plane and valley and line like you’d thought you never would again. It seems he’s doing the same—losing himself in the luxury of seeing you up close.

“Will you kiss me goodnight?” you whisper, unable to muster any self-consciousness though you know it’s a fool’s errand. Spencer strokes your waist.

“I can’t do that, honey.”

“Why not?”

His voice is just as quiet as yours. It falters slightly as he speaks, so gently, so patiently.

“Because we’re not together anymore.”

“Why not?”

Your feeble, desperate supplication sounds pitiable even to you. You’re not proud, but you can’t find it in yourself to be ashamed, either. All you want is an answer. But it’s like a child asking why the sky is blue, or the earth is round. There is a definitive explanation, but mostly, the adult will shrug, and say, that’s just how it is.

Spencer’s eyes squeeze shut. His head tilts down.

“We can’t do this again, sweetheart. You know why we’re not together.”

In theory—yes. You’d had so many conversations when you’d broken up. It had been a long, painful process, spanning multiple all-nighters at his kitchen table, nursing coffee and trying to convince each other and yourselves that it was the right choice. But it just feels like a horrible, horrible mistake. You feel desperate to explain this to him before he slips away again—the words come out flustered, inelegant as you cling to him.

“But I don’t think I’m getting better without you. I tried, I tried so hard to be good on my own, but everything is worse and harder and—and we weren’t sure about it then, and I don’t think it was the right choice, because I still really need you. Like, all the time. I’m—it’s not getting better without you. Nothing got better.”

He swallows, eyes darting between yours for an infinite second. You’re breathless and your heart is pounding after your confession—you can feel your eyes stinging with the few tears that managed to escape as you spoke.

“Everything is worse,” he agrees shakily. “Everything. I’m—I’m getting disciplinary infractions from Hotch like I’m a child because I can’t focus on anything. Game of Thrones is the most complex literature I can comprehend right now. I had to use a calculator the other day.”

You want to laugh, but nothing is funny until he’s yours again.

“Then come back. Please come back, Spencer.”

Finally, he leans closer, until your heads are pressed together, and his nose bumps yours, feather light. You're dizzy. You exhale. He inhales.

“I don’t think I knew how to leave in the first place.”

When he kisses you, it feels like home.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds

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azulpitlane · 4 months

Text

just pr part two I ln4

pairing: lando norris x ricciardo!reader summary: you are beginning to warm up to lando but it all comes crashing down when you overhear something you weren't suppose to, includes writing + smau notes: im back! hope you guys had a good holiday!! p.s if you sent requests i am working on them!! this one is pretty long but i tried to fit it all into one part warnings: a tiny tiny bit of smut, but barely anything part one, masterlist

"So when were you planning on tell me?" Your brother asked accusingly the moment you opened the door of your apartment. A few hours prior, you had called Lando and demanded for him to come over knowing Daniel was going to arrive soon and interrogate you and you refused to deal with this on your own. It was his idea in the first place.

"Um, lovely seeing you too Danny. Need help with your bags?"

"Don't give me the sarcasm right now y/n." You could tell he was genuinely agitated with your response and you sighed and opened the door to let him in. He quickly walked to your kitchen and saw Lando sitting there with a sheepish smile.

"Hey Daniel...how are you?" He immediately knew that was the wrong thing to say since he started stalking his way towards Lando.

"You motherf-"

"OKAY OKAY! Calm down Danny, just sit down and we'll talk." You fortunately were quick enough to stop him from getting to Lando. You gave him a stern look and though you were younger, Danny knew to listen to you when you gave him that look. He reluctantly sat in front of Lando while you sat yourself next to him.

"It's not what you think."

Daniel raised an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and concern on his face. "Oh, really? Because the pictures and the headlines seem to tell a different story."

Lando, always quick with a comeback, attempted to diffuse the tension. "Well, mate, you know how the media exaggerates everything."

Daniel's gaze shifted between the two of you, and he let out a sigh. "You're dating, aren't you?"

You nodded, feeling the weight of the admission. "It's complicated, Danny. We didn't plan for it to happen."

He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Complicated is an understatement. You're my sister, Y/n. And you," he pointed at Lando, "you're...Lando."

"I'm going to try and not be offended by that."

"You know what I mean. I just don't understand why you didn't tell me before."

"Well we're only two months into our relationship so we wanted to figure things out privately and decide if we were ready to fully commit to each other before telling people." You reciprocated the explanation that you and Lando made up an hour prior.

"And are you fully ready to commit to each other?"

You nudged Lando's thigh since Daniel was staring directly at him, expecting an answer from him.

"Yup. 100%."

Danny responded with a skeptical look, "That doesn't sound too convincing."

You gave Lando a harsher nudge, he was doing an awful job at making this convincing.

"Look, I know I haven't been perfect, but y/n she just...brings out a side of me that nobody else does. I know I should've spoke to you before making a move and I regret not doing so, but I don't regret y/n. And I don't regret that night when we first bumped into each other outside of the paddock," realizing his mistake he quickly added, "where we first admitted our feelings."

You glanced at Lando confused at the pause in his speech, but he avoided eye contact and kept his gaze at Daniel. You weren't sure if he was referring to the night you guys hooked up or if he was just trying to make the relationship believable. You then looked at your brother noticing his expression was softening, a part of you felt guilty for lying to him about this relationship so you quickly added an apology.

"We really are sorry you had to find out through social media, I wish we told you before those pictures were released, but there's no point in dwelling in it now. This relationship wasn't intentional, it just happened and we're serious about it." You said trying to talk as softly as possible to make it believable.

"I can't say i'm thrilled about this, but I forgive you guys. I was just angry at the moment because everybody was saying all these crazy things about my baby sister, and I was mad Lando was the reason behind it. But you guys are grown adults and can make your own decisions so whatever you think is best for your happiness, I will support it."

"Oh thank God." Lando grabbed your head and kissed it, you knew he was doing it to irritate you and you wanted nothing more than to smack him hand away but you just smiled and accepted his affection.

Daniel on the other hand, openly showed his disgust and quickly added, "Okay, don't push it."

yourusername

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 290,335 others

yourusername im just a girl (with a himbo bf and overprotective brother)

view all comments

user THE HAND PLACEMENT OH LORD

user just fell on my knees

user himbo bf is so real

user OKAY SO DANNY OFFICIALLY KNOWS

user it looks like he approves aww

landonorris himbo?

yourusername the jokes write themselves landonorris i dont get it? what is a himbo? user he fr is a himbo im crying user yourusername baby are you sure about this one?

user everybody say thank you y/n because we're gonna get so much lando and daniel content now

yourbff oh! hahaha...

user what does she know🤨 user shes seen the photos of him with other girls i fear...

danielricciardo landonorris hand placement is a bit inappropriate no?

landonorris sorry mate... user she wasn't lying with the overprotective part😭 user daniel is in cockblocker mode

As soon as Danny left, you both quickly left each others embrace and went back to your usual snarky banter. He was quick to leave your apartment but before he could, you stopped him wanting to clear some things up.

"Okay so for this to work, we need a set of rules," Lando rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say something, "uh, no interruptions please, you can speak when I'm done." You could see him roll his eyes again, but kept his mouth shut nonetheless.

"Rule number one, no kissing in the lips, even in front of the cameras."

"That is so stupid, we alre-"

"What did I say? No speaking until I am done!"

"Bossy. I like this side of you." He smirked at you suggestively and you ignored that comment all together, not wanting to give the satisfaction of a reaction from you.

"Rule number two, no posting each other without permission. We must both approve of the post." He lazily nodded, not really caring about these rules.

"Rule number three, we cannot tell anybody, besides your team of course, that this is fake. I mean nobody, not even your close friends, we can't risk Danny finding out."

"Anything else, princess?"

"Chill with the affection, you were practically hogging me when we were with Daniel."

"You weren't complaining last week when you were under me."

You blushed and quickly used your hair to cover it. You guys hadn't talked about that night and you were trying your best to avoid the topic. It was a drunk mistake, that's it. It's not like either of you would do it again. Even if it was the best sex of your life, you would never admit that out loud.

"Shut up, that was a drunk, stupid mistake," His smirk fell and was replaced with an emotionless look, "rule number four, no talking about that night, got it?"

"Yeah, whatever, can I go now?"

f1gossip

20,492 likes

f1gossip Lando and Y/n in Paris today! The two just landed and are there with a few of Lando's friends. They confirmed their relationship a few weeks ago on instagram posts and sources say they've been together for a few months prior to the posts. Thoughts on the new couple?

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user its funny to think that he might be daniel's brother in law in the future lmfao

user idk about them... lando was just seen with other girls before their posts

user probably just friends chill user yeah fr, lando always says those other girls are just his friends

user honestly im happy he's finally settling for a nice girl, no more drama

user it couple

user omg they both love photography...imagine all the pictures they take of one another

user omg. i need to see y/n's camera roll🧟‍♀️🧟‍♀️

user the all black fit >>>>>

user the girlfriend effect is starting already

user IM SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM (IM OBSESSED WITH THEM)

As you and Lando began the charade of a fake relationship, you couldn't shake off the feeling that this was going to be more complicated than you initially thought. The staged photos, the forced smiles, and the scripted interactions started to wear on you. But for the sake of your relationship with your brother, you pushed through. This is the first time you and Lando left Monaco together and he had dragged you to Paris for a few events he had. You were there with his friends so you had to keep up with your act practically all the time until you went to sleep.

"Wait, we're sharing a room?"

Lando raised an eyebrow, "Yeah, it's more convincing that way. We're a couple, remember?"

You sighed, realizing the extent of the relationship. "Fine, but no funny business. We stick to the rules."

He smirked, "You're no fun, princess."

You shot him a warning look, "I'm serious, Lando. This is for my brother's sake, not for our amusement."

He chuckled, "Alright, alright. No funny business. I promise."

You begrudgingly entered the room and noticed there was only one bed. You turned to him with a blank look on your face and he gave you an innocent smile, knowing you were pissed.

"Really, Lando? One bed?"

He shrugged, feigning innocence. "Oops, must be a mistake. But it's not like we haven't shared a bed before, right?"

You shot him a glare. "Rule number four."

"What?"

"Rule number four: no talking of the night that got us into this mess in the first place."

"Jesus, you weren't being serious about those rules?"

"Dead serious." You moved around him and got your pajamas from your suitcase to change in the bathroom.

"If I knew you were going to be this boring I would've fake dated someone else." He mumbled in response.

"I heard that!" You yelled from the bathroom.

"Yeah well you were meant to!" He sassily replied.

You came out of the bathroom bare faced and wearing a skimpy set consisting of a tight tank top and tiny shorts. If you knew you would be sharing a room with Lando you would've never packed this, but it was the only thing you had on you right now. You noticed Lando looking at you and you were expecting some sort of remark on your outfit but it never came. He just watched you with a look you could not name, you couldn't help but feel a little self conscious under his hard gaze. You opened your mouth to question him but you were interrupted by three knocks on the door. You quickly went to open it, wanting to get away from the sudden tension in the room.

"Hello! Room service here, may I step in?"

"Oh sure." You didn't even realize Lando had ordered anything while you were in the bathroom.

The man walked in and at that moment he seemed to notice your outfit for the first time and subtly looked you up and down. You felt uncomfortable but before anything else could be said Lando stepped in front of you and tipped the guy. He blushed knowing he was caught and quickly made his way out.

"Uhh what did you order?" You asked wanting to fill the weird silence in the room.

"Hot chocolate, it's uh for you." You gave him a questioning gaze and you didn't know if you were hallucinating but it looked like he was blushing. "Daniel mentioned something about you guys always sneaking out of bed to drink a cup of chocolate before sleeping when you were younger and you had an insane amount of chocolate when I went over to your apartment so I'm guessing you still do it."

You couldn't help but smile at the memory he mentioned. It was a tradition you and Daniel had when you were kids, sneaking out of bed to share a cup of hot chocolate before sleeping. It was a comforting routine that continued into your teenage years. The fact that Lando remembered and went through the trouble of ordering it made you soften towards him, at least for a moment.

"Wow, you actually remembered that?" You chuckled, feeling a bit nostalgic.

Lando scratched the back of his head, a bit embarrassed. "Yeah, well, I thought it might help make this whole pr thing a bit more bearable. Plus, I know you love it."

You sighed, realizing that maybe there was more to Lando than just the cocky and flirtatious exterior he presented. "Thanks, Lando. That was...unexpectedly sweet."

He shrugged, trying to downplay it. "Well, don't get used to it. It's a one-time thing. Im gonna uh get in the shower now."

You nodded and he left you alone with your thoughts, you couldn't shake off the mixed emotions swirling within you. This fake relationship was becoming more complicated by the day, but there were moments, like this one, that blurred the lines between acting and reality. You couldn't deny that there was a connection between you and Lando, even if it was born out of necessity. You sat on the bed and picked up a book to stop your overthinking, it was just a cup of chocolate. No big deal.

Lando came out of the shower and was faced with an empty cup and you knocked out on the bed. He picked up your book and marked the page you left off on before placing it on the bedside table. He grabbed a pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the small couch in the room before he drifted off into sleep.

The next morning you woke up before Lando and quickly noticed he was not sleeping in the bed next to you. You felt bad seeing him cramped in the small couch across from the bed and you mentally kicked yourself for falling asleep before you could volunteer to take the couch, he was the one that paid after all. You got up and silently approached him, he looked so peaceful and you thought about how chivalrous his gesture was. You knew there was more to him than his arrogant persona, but you were surprised he was letting you see a part of the real him after all this time.

"I know I'm attractive but watching me sleep is a little creepy don't you think?" He said suddenly while keeping his eyes closed.

There was that arrogance.

"Oh you're awake? There goes my opportunity to strangle you in your sleep."

"Kinky girl."

"Just shut up and get up, we have a lot to do."

landonorris posted a story

You were shocked when none of Lando's friends joined you two today seeing as you were exploring the city. Once he had told you they wanted to do their own thing, you expected for him to go back to his cocky self since there was nobody around, but he constantly kept a hold on your hand, gave you his jacket when you got cold, and even helped with your photography.

You had brought your camera in hopes to capture some good pictures of the city of love and he helped by giving you some ideas. You were confused by his kind behavior since you guys kept a low profile and weren't recognized by anybody as you walked around. You didn't mind this side of Lando though and appreciated this personality before he became a cocky jerk again.

"Did your team tip off any paparazzi anywhere that I should be aware of?" You asked thinking maybe there was someone watching.

"Uh no actually. I asked for a calm day before we go to the event later tonight. That's where all the photographers will be."

"Huh, so you're telling me you organized this whole day yourself?" You asked slowly not understanding why his team would set up a day in Paris with just you two without exposure to it.

Lando grinned mischievously, "Well, I thought we could use a break from the chaos. Plus, Paris is a beautiful city, and it seemed like a waste not to explore it properly."

You raised an eyebrow, still skeptical of his sudden change in behavior. "And you're not going to pull some elaborate prank or reveal that this was all a setup?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No pranks, no setups. Just a day to enjoy the city and each other's company. Is that so hard to believe?"

Considering Lando's usual antics, it was indeed hard to believe. However, you decided to go along with it, enjoying the unexpected break from the scripted events and staged moments.

As you continued exploring the streets of Paris, Lando pointed out interesting landmarks, shared anecdotes about his previous visits, and even suggested some hidden gems for your photography. The day unfolded in a surprisingly genuine and enjoyable manner.

At a quaint café, Lando insisted on treating you to a cup of coffee, saying, "Consider it a thank you for putting up with my chaotic world for the past few days."

You couldn't help but smile, finding this side of Lando surprisingly endearing. "You're not so bad when you're not trying to be a pain, you know?"

He winked, "I'll take that as a compliment."

The two of you strolled along the Seine River, taking in the iconic sights of Paris. The Eiffel Tower loomed in the distance, and you couldn't resist capturing the moment with your camera.

As you snapped a few pictures, Lando leaned in and whispered, "You know, you're not so bad either, princess."

You rolled your eyes, but there was a warmth in your chest that you couldn't deny. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to this fake relationship than meets the eye.

The day passed in a blur of laughter, shared moments, and a surprising connection that seemed to grow stronger with each passing hour. It was a side of Lando you hadn't expected, and you found yourself enjoying his company without the pressure of the public eye.

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yourusername j'adore paris

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user mother posted!!!

yourbff you look absolutely incredible..and he's there

yourusername 😭😭 be nice! landonorris im starting to think you dont like me... user LMFAO OMG

user y/n.jpg WHEN????

user lando taking her to the city of love...yeah they're not breaking up anytime soon

landonorris my pretty girl

user 🫠🫠 user oh to be lando's pretty girl, y/n won at life

user remind me how lando pulled her??? shes so gorgeous

user he beat the norizz allegations

danielricciardo there should be a jumpscare warning for the last slide!

user HAHAHAHA landonorris why am i always being attacked in y/ns comments

As Lando mentioned, you were going to make appearance at the PSG game which you actually were excited for since you were a big football fanatic. You both changed and met up with his friends in the lobby before heading out again. The game was going great and you had even met some of the guys' girlfriends and befriended them rather quickly. After being surrounded by men the whole trip, you were glad to have some women around you to socialize with. You then all made plans as a group to go to an after-party to celebrate the teams win.

The party was huge, there were even some PSG players there and you were suddenly glad you chose a nice outfit to go to the game with, not wanting to feel underdressed.

As the night wore on, Lando pulled you aside again, away from the bustling crowd. "Having fun, princess?"

You nodded, a smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, surprisingly. Your friends are great dancers, by the way."

He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Well, we're a talented bunch. But you're the best dancer here."

You laughed, not expecting the compliment. "Flattery will get you nowhere, Lando."

He leaned in, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "I don't know about that. Flattery seems to be working quite well tonight."

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush that threatened to surface. "Smooth talker."

"Only to you." He replied and he stepped closer to tug a piece of hair behind your ear. You became aware of his proximity and couldn't help to feel your heart start racing. You instinctively put your hands on his shoulder as he looked down on your lips. You felt yourself leaning in before something caught your eye over his shoulder, a camera. Someone was filming, that's why he was acting like this. You don't know why the idea made you a little sad, so you snapped out of it and turned your head so his lips landed on your cheek. His eyes were filled with confusion, weren't you just leaning in too? Did you not feel the spark that ignited between you two today?

“No kissing. Even on camera, remember?” You said sadly then rejoined the girls as he stood there confused.

You spent the rest of the night separately until the girls decided they were tired. You volunteered to go look for the boys and as soon as you stepped outside through the backdoor you heard Lando’s voice.

“I mean we just started and I’m already regretting it. Its just so hard to be around her, she has all these rules that im technically breaking by telling you,”

Your heart dropped realizing he was talking about you. You stopped listening, not wanting to hear the rest because you knew it would only hurt. You realized how much you were beginning to like Lando thinking you could get through the constant facade he has, but after hearing his words you were starting to think it wasn’t a facade. He was just mean. You began to wonder if all the other snarky and rude remarks he made weren’t sarcasm, but the real way he felt about you.

You went back inside, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, and saw the rest of the girls had reunited with their boyfriends so you assured them they could leave and you were just waiting for Lando. With teary eyes you made your way to the small bar and ordered a water.

As you sat at the bar, nursing your water, you couldn't shake off the mix of emotions swirling within you. The revelations from Lando's words had left you feeling hurt and confused. You had let your guard down, allowed yourself to enjoy the night, and now it seemed like it was all a part of some elaborate act.

“Not having a good time?”

You looked up and were slightly starstruck to see Kylian Mbappe sitting next to you.

“Um no not anymore, unless youre the host of this party! Then im having a blast.”

He laughed at your comment and you blushed in embarrassment.

"Don't worry, it's not my party. Why are you alone?"

"I'm just waiting for my friends, they're outside."

"Hm, so why aren't you outside with them...?"

"Y/n." You replied knowing he was subtly asking. "But I just uh needed some water," you said quickly trying to think of an excuse.

"Y/n's a beautiful name, I'm Kylian."

"Oh I know." He raised his eyebrows at your response but before he could say anything else Lando had appeared out of nowhere. He gave you a tight lipped smile and put his arm around your waist after seeing who you were talking to.

"Kylian! It's good to see you mate, sorry to interrupt but we were just heading out." He said as he used his other hand to shake Kylian's.

Kylian reciprocated the handshake with a friendly smile, though his eyes flickered with curiosity at the sudden appearance of Lando.

"No problem at all," Kylian replied, glancing between you and Lando. "Nice meeting you, Y/n. Enjoy the rest of the night."

You nodded, a bit flustered by the unexpected attention from both men. "You too, Kylian. Maybe catch you at another party."

As Kylian excused himself, you turned your attention to Lando, who still had his arm around your waist. His grip felt possessive, and you couldn't help but shoot him a questioning look.

"What was that about?" you asked, a hint of irritation in your voice.

Lando's gaze flickered between you and the direction Kylian had walked off. "Just making sure everything's alright. I noticed you talking to him."

"It's not like I was in distress. We were just having a casual conversation." You replied before being dragged away by Lando and seeing his friend, Romeo, trail behind you too. Ahh so that's who he was talking to.

Lando raised an eyebrow, his tone slightly defensive. "Casual conversation, huh? Seemed more than that."

The ride home was quiet, none of you knowing what to say after your almost kiss and hearing him talk about you. You thought about the situation the whole ride to the hotel and were getting angrier by the second, he was the one that suggested this idea and now he was regretting it? And worst of all, why was he talking to others about this and not you?

"As soon as you got to your room your thoughts were interrupted by Lando's voice, "What if someone had taken pictures? Do you know how bad that would look on your part? Flirting with other men while in a relationship with me."

You rolled your eyes and defended yourself, "I was not flirting with him."

"That's not what it looked like to me." He said with a hard tone.

"Why do you care? We're not really dating."

"Oh I know, you remind me any time you can, but we're doing this for the sake of your reputation too."

"As if you cared about me and maybe I remind you all the time because in reality I would never date an asshole like you." You answered bitterly as you moved around the room trying to get yourself ready for bed.

Lando followed your movements and gave you a hurt yet irritated look, "An asshole, huh? That's what you think of me?"

"Yeah."

"You know, you're no prize either! You only think of yourself that you fail to see the obvious." Responded with clear frustration in his voice.

"What the hell is that suppose to mean?"

Lando's frustration boiled over as he paced around the room. "It means you're so caught up in your own world that you don't see beyond your own nose. You're oblivious to what's happening around you. I'm trying here, more than you can understand."

You scoffed, not buying into his sudden change in tone. "Oh please, spare me the act. You're the one regretting this whole thing, talking about it with your friends, and then acting possessive when I talk to someone else? What game are you playing, Lando?"

He looked at you in confusion, "When did I say I regretted..." Realization hit him as he remembered the events from earlier that day, "you heard me talking to Romeo. No, no you don't understand, it's just... more complicated than I thought."

You crossed your arms, not willing to let him off the hook that easily. "Complicated? Enlighten me."

Lando hesitated for a moment before speaking. "I didn't expect... I didn't expect to care, alright? But spending time with you, even in this ridiculous situation, it's messing with my head. And it's not just about the reputation, it's... something else."

You raised an eyebrow, "Something else? Care to elaborate?" You asked with attitude.

He groaned, having enough with your sassy tone, and before you knew it, your back was getting pushed into the wall as Lando trapped you with his arms on the side of your head. You got flashbacks of the party as you looked up at his face that was only centimeters away from yours.

"You're so frustrating y/n. I told Romeo I regretted this because it's so hard to be around you when all I think about is the night I fucked you." You sucked a breath in, shocked by his bold statement. He brought one of his hand down to your jaw and traced his thumb on your bottom lip. "I have to hold myself back when I'm around you, you have completely fucked with my head, it's so infuriating."

"Then...then why did you agree to this whole fake dating thing?" You asked, almost whispering.

He chuckled and replied, "I didn't have to agree to it. It was my idea." Your eyes filled with confusion, remembering he had told you it was his team's idea, "I suggested it so I could get another chance to get a taste of you. Tell me you don't want this. Tell me you haven't thought of that night we had sex." He asked with a gaze full of lust and frustration.

You could feel your walls crumbling down at his seductive tone and close proximity. You shook your head and weakly responded, "I can't."

He smirked at you before taking one of your hands in his own and moving it to his hardened cock.

"This enough elaboration for you?" He asked with a cocky tone. You could feel yourself getting wet and had enough of his teasing. You moved your hands to his face and brought it to your own. The kiss was messy and full of built up frustration and anger, a perfect combination to your relationship.

As the passionate kiss continued, you found yourself getting lost in the moment, forgetting the complications and frustrations that had filled the air just moments ago. Lando's lips moved against yours with a mixture of intensity and tenderness, creating a whirlwind of emotions within you.

Eventually, he pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a reaction. Your breath was heavy, and the room felt charged with tension. Lando's fingers traced the outline of your jaw, and he spoke in a low, husky voice, "I can't keep pretending, y/n. This is more than just a pr stunt for me."

Conflicting emotions swirled within you. On one hand, you couldn't deny the undeniable chemistry and connection you shared with Lando. On the other hand, the complications and rules that had governed your fake relationship loomed in the background.

"I don't even know what this is anymore," you admitted, your voice shaky.

Lando leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. "Maybe it's time we stop pretending and figure it out together. No more rules, no more faking."

As you looked into his eyes, you saw a vulnerability that you hadn't expected. It was as if the arrogant facade he had meticulously maintained was crumbling, revealing the real Lando beneath.

"Can we even do that?" you wondered aloud.

Lando smiled, a genuine and sincere expression that took you by surprise. "I want to try, y/n."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of uncertainty and excitement. "What about the paparazzi, the public, and your career?"

"I don't care about any of that if it means I can be with you," he confessed, his gaze unwavering.

With a tentative smile, you nodded, realizing that maybe that maybe you can trust Lando after all.

As the night continued, you had deja vu to the night that got you and Lando in this position in the first place, except this time he was gentler and made you feel special.

more notes: im not comfortable enough to write smut, sorry🧍‍♀️and as per usual, this is not proofread lol

tags: @gulphulp, @cassiopeiia24

#lando norris #f1 x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 fanfic #mclaren #formula one #formula 1

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torusmuse · 3 months

Text

➠ Fed Up - G. SUGURU | 夏油傑 𓈒 ݁ ₊

fanart by kyulgo_ on twt

warnings ;; bf suguru geto x reader NSFW!!!, afab reader, no prns other than you, mentions of reader wearing a skirt, edging, fingering, pussy slap (only once), brat taming? geto's tired of ur bratty attitude lol im bad at this soz ➜ wc: 704.

࣪⤿ ᩠͡✎̈ ⁺ : I'M LITERALLY NOT NORMAL ABOUT THIS MAN HOLY CRAP.

Geto has always been so patient with you. Ever the doting boyfriend, sweet enough to induce cavities, his touches so gentle, almost as though you'd break if he added too much pressure. dealing with your bratty attitude with a smile and a soft kiss on the lips, a simple "knock it off" in return, letting your teasing off with a shrug of his shoulders. Patience with you is always as easy as breathing.

So you're not really sure what finally snapped in that pretty head of his to lead you to your current predicament. Your legs spread on the bed as he mercilessly teases your swollen pussy. your back to his chest as he watches the cute faces you make in the mirror in front of you two.

Maybe it was the tiny skirt that hardly left anything to the imagination, or maybe it was the lack of your usual cotton panties under said skirt, but most likely it was how you rubbed your bare cunt onto his dark pants when he allowed you to sit on his lap. A low "don't start." leaves his lips in warning. A warning you, of course, don't listen to. You're not too sure if you regret it, the feeling of his fingers pumping in and out of your cunt and circling your clit felt heavenly but not being able to cum had you on the brink of crying and yelling at him, your frustration running deep.

Dirty words fall from his lips as he brings you to the edge of tipping, just to deny you your release again and again, the pretty rings on his finger drowned by how wet you currently are. His pretty lips twist into a smile as fat tears well in the corner of your eyes. the soft brush of his hand across your teary eyes, contrasting the mean rubs of your cunt and teeth biting down into your skin as you beg him to let you cum, bucking your hips in hopes of getting more friction on your desperate clit.

He pinches your nipples with his free hand and bites harder on your skin as a warning to stop chasing more friction. "I spoil you too much," he whispers into the nape of your neck, the fingers inside of your cunt pick up their brutal pace, the sweat on your skin building. "I have to teach you brats don't always get what they want." He quickly pulls his fingers from in your sopping cunt and delivers a slap to your pussy with those words. A loud whine from your lips and a twitch of your body has him chuckling behind you.

He takes a second to stare at your exhausted state in the shiny mirror, admiring the wreck he'd made out of you, still telling you how absolutely gorgeous you looked even with your now messy makeup. he coos sweet words into your ear when hot tears begin to freely spill from your eyes. "you're so pretty", "don't cry baby", "why are you crying? doesn't it feel good?", "you must be so tired." he'd baby you as one of his hands squeezes at one of your erected nipples.

Bending his head slightly to look down at you from his position behind you, his hair tickling your skin he'd bring his fingers coated in your wetness to your lips telling you to suck, groaning lowly from the feeling of your tongue run across his fingers, his cock stirring below you. He'd finally let his other hand sneak back to your wetness after you coat his fingers in your spit.

You don't remember when exactly he slipped two fingers in your sopping hole, but you instantly react when his fingers thrust out and in again, your back arching off of his chest, desperate moans leaving your mouth. "Please" and "I'm sorry," along with his name, leave your shaky body wanting nothing but to experience the white hot pleasure your boyfriend never failed to deliver.

He simply shakes his head with a cute smile on his despairingly pretty face, as if his fingers weren't digging into you, and creating the most lewd sounds known to man. "Next time, don't be so desperate for a reaction."

໋ © TORUSMUSE 2024

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #geto x y/n #suguru geto x reader #suguru getou x you #getou suguru x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #geto fanfic

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werecreature-addicted · 2 months

Note

i missed uuu, been waiting for this to be open again but hear me out, been thinking about this,

a werewolf girlie and her vampire lover… who really never thought of settling down before meeting her addicting pussy- i mean personality (lmao)… amidst their world breaking sex he proposes to her and it only drives them crazier and rougher… im sure u can make this idea an amazing story 😂😂 sorry babes, ignore it if it doesn’t make sense.

i hope life’s treating u well! bisous

" 'm gonna marry you- fuck- make you my pretty wife. mmm this pussy is all mine baby, gonna make it all fucking mine," You usually don't listen to the rambling nonsense your boyfriend spouts as he fucks you. Usually, it's just "You feel so tight" over and over again, but this time it's different.

"What did you say?" you ask, almost laughing, he doesn't look like he's joking though, his pale cheeks are flushed his eyes watering with over stimulation, he's already cum twice but he just can't stop fucking you, it's too good to stop.

"I said I'm going to marry you- mm fuck gonna make you my wife," he whines before lowering his mouth and biting your neck, you cry out in surprise as you feel the skin break, his rough tongue lapping at your blood. you growl and dig your claws into his hips, he knows what it does to you when he bites your neck, usually, he feeds from your wrists or your thighs, but clearly, he's in a mood tonight.

"I thought you said you just wanted something casual," you groan when you first started seeing each other he'd insisted on something no strings attached. you still weren't officially dating, but you'd become more than just fuck buddies.

"Changed my mind- best pussy I've felt in 200 years, I can't let you go. you're mine- my, what's the fucking word you mutts use? My mate?" he's only half teasing, he really does want to keep you as his, forever if you'll let him.

You growl and flip him around, pinning him down on the bed, his poor throbbing cock still deep inside you. you hold his wrists down and hold him there for a while, using all of his inhuman strength still isn't enough, to buck you off, or even to fuck himself up into you.

"I'm going to make you regret saying that, pretty boy," you say and this time it's your turn to sink your teeth into the side of his neck.

#monster imagine #monster #monster fucker #teratophillia #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf x reader #werewolf x vampire #vampire boyfriend #vampire smut

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ellieswyfe · 9 months

Text

Hood eren tales PT 2

(hood #eren) being ur man ur mann 😜🫶🏾

warnings: oral (m received), fingering, daddy kink, i dunnoo what else this is just pure porn 😭 (MDNII!!)

mood song (GO STREAM DELI 🤍icespicee)

hood eren who even though he spoils you, does not put up with a bad attitude. every time you're mad or upset it puts him ina funk and he just doesn't like it.

hood eren who regardless of your attitude, takes you to your favorite mall with your friends on the weekend, hoping you were just having a shitty week.

hood eren who once more spoils you and your friends, taking you out for hibachi and letting you spend your time hanging around the mall, but he soon regrets this decision when you stop infront of your FAV designer store.

hood eren who makes A LOT of money from selling and has bought you plenty of designer in the past, calmly watches as you and your friends go into the store and end up absolutely RAVING over a pink handbag (https://t.ly/handbag) with the company logo embroidered all over it.

hood eren who as your friends explore the store, watches as you stay by his side begging for him to buy you the bag. (so you can brag later)

hood eren who refuses to buy you the new louie bag, after a week of giving him major side eye and sucking your teeth. he says he doesn't think you deserve it cause of that "nasty ass attitude." "no princess, i'll buy you the bag when you learn some manners." or "daddy said not right now chill."

hood eren who notices how you talk about him to your friends while waking off. he knew that your spoildness got bad but not THIS bad. he’s quick to drive your friends home so he can deal with that attitude.

hood eren who when you get home, comforts you when your eyes get watery and you start with the sniffles but stands strong on his words. "c'mere." he motions you over so he can pick you up and start rubbing you down. he knows just exactly what you need.

hood eren who lets his baby suck him off as an apology. when he pulls it out the tip hits his belly already angry, flushed red, and leaking pre. he lets you start off slow. sucking the tip and kissing his down his shaft. but when he realizes you're stalling, he works his length down your throat admiring your cute whines and occasional gags.

hood eren who throws his head back and moans as you suck the absolute soul outta him “oooh b-baby fuuuuck”, pulling your head down as he thrusts his length into your mouth causing tears to form in your eyes.

hood eren who spurts ropes of cum down ur throat as he finishes in your mouth. then after, pulls you up to kiss you, still tasting the nutty, salty taste of his cum in your mouth, which instantly gets him hard again.(how romantic)

hood eren who pulls off your shorts and slowly peels back your panties to reveal your puffy pussy lips and hard clit. he's so smooth with his work, placing you on the bed and letting you ramble on, that you don't even notice till he eases one of his long thick fingers in your pussy.

hood eren who fingers that creamy pussy enough to have you gushing but not cum. “renn baby please lemme cummm,” you moan out fully resting your body against his chest as his nimble fingers work on pleasuring you. “aht aht ma whats my name? thought it was fuck me?” and “keep them legs open or you wont be cumming atall”

hood eren who shoves his length in your pussy and sets a brutal pace. “ooh pa slow downn i said im sorryy,” you cry. clapping, smacking, and wet sounds echo off the walls and your pretty sure your neighbors hate you by now. “you gone be a good girl nd stop acting up?” eren questions, “yess- daddy i swear i will…” you moan, juices running down your legs and half brain dead now.

hood eren who knows your lying (your definitely gonna up again) but enjoys putting his pretty girl in her place even if she ends up getting what she wants anyways…

hood eren who after he's done tearing up that pussy, buys the special edition louie bag you wanted (it was in his cart the whole time)

______________________________________________

this is my first time writing a semi full smut!? so proud of myself 🥲

LMK FOR A PRT 3…shld i do a few on connie?? 🤭

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feralforriddle · 3 months

Text

nobody makes me feel things.

summary: tom riddle x y/n, first person. tom starts to get really confused as to why he was feeling so many things for the sweet ravenclaw girl. but he seems to soften up pretty quick, leaving you just as confused.

a/n: my first ever fic! please give feedback if you enjoyed in the comments. this is probably super messy but i just kept typing lol. i hope u enjoy :3.

ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-'*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'ੈ✩‧₊˚⋆.ೃ࿔*:･+*:ꔫ:*﹤˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

'what do you want.' he says, staring at me with his dark, cold glare. i gulp, immediately regretting my decision. picking at the skin around my nails, i pluck up the courage to ask him.

'um, i was just wondering if you were still tutoring people?' i ask, looking up at him anxiously. he stares at me for a second, seemingly very confused. or is he happy? angry? honestly, it's really hard to read him. impossible even.

'yes. i do, why?' he steps closer to me, looking down and crossing his arms. it's almost like he is trying to kill me. doesn't he realize how handsome he is?

'i am struggling at the moment in potions, a-and i know you're really smart in that subject. i was wondering if you'd help me?' i ask, trying to sound confident but failing miserably. why is it so hard to talk to him? obviously everybody knows what tom is like. he has almost zero friends, and he doesn't seem to care about making any.

but i have always been intrigued by him. always watching and admiring from afar. always found him exceptionally handsome. never found any courage to talk to him, though. so now is my chance to get his attention.

do i really need help in potions? not really. it's definitely not my most successful class, but i could probably still pass without his help. but the idea of him teaching me, maybe he could show me how to make potions too, standing behind me and guiding my hands-

okay, no. i am getting truly distracted now.

i have just always been so infatuated with him. my friends call me crazy for trying this, and that they have never seen him interested in any girl before him. i have seen him glance at me before, staring a little longer than just an accidental glance. so part of me is really hopeful he sees me the same way. and i don't have enough confidence to just ask him out, which is why i thought a study session would be good.

'i can help you. what is it you need help with the most?' he says, surprisingly softer. a slight glint in his eye. it did not last long though, he returned to his usual glare.

'mainly brewing the potions, getting things perfect. sure, i get it right but, you always seem to make them perfectly' i say, complimenting him lightly to see his reaction.

i did not get much of one.

'yes, mine are perfect. i can help you. i will ask professor slughorn if we can use the potions room after class hours, he won't mind i'm sure.' he says, nodding down at me once.

i smile brightly up at him, 'thankyou tom! i'll meet you there today around 6pm then?' i ask, beyond excited to get to spend more time with him.

he nods, squinting his eyes lightly at me before turning around and leaving. he certainly is a unique boy. i turn to return to the great hall and finish my lunch.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻

i was itching for 6pm to come faster, wiggling in my seat in my final class of the day. i need to make sure i look pretty, too. i am incredibly nervous to see him, and be alone with him too. my cheeks go red at the thought. i am probably thinking of this way differently to tom, he probably isn't even excited. but i don't care, i just wanted him to see me, to notice me.

as soon as class ended, i sprinted back to my dorm to get changed and freshen up. putting on a clean white shirt, my slightly tighter one for no particular reason at all. and my ravenclaw skirt, pilling up a little further up my thighs than normal. i do light makeup, and ruffle my hair and im ready. this is very unlike me. i never dress like this, and to be honest i feel embarrassed but i want to catch his attention somehow.

it's 5:50pm, so i grab my study books and quill, and head quickly to the classroom. he arrives just seconds after me.

'hi tom' i smile.

he stares at me for a second, glancing down at my outfit. 'what are you wearing?' he says, glaring at me for a second.

'just my uniform..' i frown, looking down at myself.

tom's head erratically turns around, checking nobody is around. 'you walked down here like this?'

'..yes?'

'get inside, quickly.' he opens the door for me, and i rush inside, very very confused as to what is happening.

he looks at me again as i sit at the desk where he clearly prepared things. 'why did i have to rush in here?'

'because i don't want anybody else to see you like this.' he grunt, putting his books down before sitting beside me.

'why's that?' i say, a little hope bubbling inside of me that maybe it's because he only wants to see me like this.

'you ask too many questions. lets just focus on this' he says, avoiding eye contact with me.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

the whole study session i was incredibly nervous. i couldn't write properly because my hands were shaking so much. my cheeks constantly red through the whole thing. i sigh as he packs things away, 'thankyou for helping me, tom'.

'it's okay' he says nothing else before heading to the door.

i don't know why, but he seems even less interested after that. he is barely talking to me, his body language is just telling me he is uncomfortable. maybe he figured out my little plan and it put off by it? maybe he really just doesn't like me back. maybe i'm just not confident enough for him?

perhaps i should stop trying so hard.

i grab my own things and walk to the door with him. 'i-i'm sorry if i made you uncomfortable tom, i'm sure you figured out what i was doing' i say with as much courage as possible. i feel ridiculously embarrassed. he looks at me and says nothing.

his face indicates nothing. nothing whatsoever. i take a deep breath. looking at him with glossy eyes, rushing out of the potions classroom and back to my dorm.

i jump on my bed, pushing my face in the pillow and letting a few tears go. i thought it would work, i really did think he might like me back. i was stupid to think so. he doesn't really feel anything for anyone. and i made such a fool of myself, trying to flirt or complimenting me, wearing this revealing uniform. oh god i want the ground to swallow me hole.

i just curl up into a ball and fall asleep soon after.

tom on the other hand, is left feeling very very confused. he doesn't know why he feels this way, why did he get a pang in his chest when he saw my glossy eyes? why couldn't he seem to breathe properly around me? he has never felt this way for anybody and he doesn't know what to do.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

the next day i head to breakfast, nervous about seeing tom there. he always sits at the end of the table alone, so it's inevitable he will see me as i walk into the great hall. i try and get there as early as possible, hoping i arrive before he does.

but no, he is sat there, and his head shoots up the second he sees me walk into the hall. my cheeks flush insanely red, my hands beginning to sweat a little as i feel his burning gaze on me.

i rush to the table, sitting by myself at the end too, not really wanting to tell my friends what happened.

tom sees me sitting alone and furrows his eyebrows. before even thinking, he stands up and walks over to sit directly opposite me on the ravenclaw table. i look up at him and panic.

'why are you sitting alone?' he says, staring at me.

'um, i just didn't feel like talking to my friends this morning' i gulp, frantically trying to avoid his gaze. he glances down to see them all staring with their jaws dropped.

'pathetic.' he mutters.

'you think im pathetic?' i say, eyes softening at him.

'no, quite the opposite' he mumbles, nodding his head down the table. 'that is pathetic'. my cheeks flush a little as i giggle at him. looking back up at him, i give him a soft smile.

'why did you come over here, tom?'

'because i don't want to see you sitting by yourself.' he says, taking a bite of his breakfast. 'come on, eat something. we have class soon'.

i do as he says, of course, but i am also extremely confused as to what is happening. from how he was acting yesterday, to this? i am very confused. but secretly i am really enjoying this.

'so, how about another study tonight?' he says bluntly. my eyes nearly shoot out of their sockets and my heart nearly came out of my chest.

'o-oh, um sure' i smile, covering my nerves.

'and you can wear that little outfit again. just don't let anybody see you on the way'. i nod quickly at him. and we quietly had breakfast together. he walked me to my class, which left my hiding my smile under my hand in class.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

i take a deep breath as i wait for tom to arrive outside of the class. i tap my feet on the floor in anticipation. my god, am i nervous.

'get inside, quick' he says, opening the door for me again.

i smile a little, rushing inside and sitting back in my normal seat. but there is nothing here set up to study like last time. he raised an eyebrow at me and slowly walks over as i look at him confused.

'what are we doing today tom if there isn't anything here?' i ask, turning to him as he sits beside me.

'oh i think we both know studying isn't the reason we are doing this' he says, turning to me slightly.

i almost choke on the air.

'i don't know what you've done to me, but i can't stop thinking about you' he sighs. 'it's awful, really. i haven't ever felt this way before, i was up most of the night figuring my feelings out. now i worry i am stuck, wanting you with me at all times when i can't'.

'yes, you can'. i jump to answer. 'just give me the word and i'm yours'.

'mine?' he hums, as i stand up and stand in between his legs, looking up at him.

'yours'.

he puts his hand on the side of my face. 'i hope you know what you've gotten yourself into. I'm not easy, darling'. he sighs.

'i'll get used to it' i smile.

'if i see any other man in the same proximity as you, i can't promise i won't hex them'.

'id like that' i hum.

'come here' he murmurs, pulling me closer into him, connecting his lips onto mine. and i melt. i've been wanting this for so long. his tongue swipes against my bottom lip, deepening the kiss as my hands wrap around his neck, pulling him to stand with me and wrap his arms around my waist.

'lets go back to my dorm. i have my own dorm because i hate everyone.' he mumbles against my lips. i giggle at him, pulling back and nodding. 'lets go' i agree.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞

the next morning, i walk into the great hall for breakfast. tom's eyes find mine as he gives me a very small, but cheeky grin.

he stands up and walks over to my table before i can sit down.

he grabs my chin, pressing a kiss against my lips softly right in front of all my friends. as if to prove a point.

'see you in class, baby'.

i smile at him as he walks back to the slytherin table. i look down at my friends,

'what on earth?!' they shout.

✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥༻∞✧༺♥

a/n; and we're done! please give me feedback if you liked this, or not. my first ever fic ahh! <3 love u angels.

#tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #hogwarts #harry potter #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys #voldemort

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fleurmiss · 1 year

Text

ೃ⁀➷ ‘cause you’re a good girl and you know it

- ,, lo’ak x fem reader

- ,, you don’t care if you get in trouble!! maybe you do.. but being able to see lo’ak makes you think it’s worth it

- ,, warnings - nothing, fluff, first kisses, confessions, cheesy……. lo’ak is so cute but i literally cannot write for him bru, this sucks btw

-‘๑’- hold on, we’re going home - drake, majid jordan

You think getting yourself in trouble is a foolish thought, you’ve always been witty, respectful, eager to please. The reaction you get from your parents from those 10 minutes of rebellious fun just ruins it all, at the end, the troublemaking deemed “useless”.

Lo’ak knows you’re a good girl, you act so different around him though. Why does getting in trouble seem worth it when it’s lo’ak you’re with? Why does the 10 minutes of rebellious fun turn into 10 minutes of butterflies and stuttering shy messes?

“you know ao’nung almost snitched on us tonight to dad?” you whisper to lo’ak whose chest you’re laying on in a gentle voice, afraid anything louder will wake the whole tribe up.

Sneaking him into your marui pod after eclipse is risky, your parents will absolutely skin you alive if they find out.

Lo’ak is rubbing soothing circles on your waist with one hand, the other arm around your shoulders as yours rest around his waist. It’s peaceful, the calm sound of the ocean waves, the gentle sway of your curtain that hangs upon the entrance, the wind blowing softly into the pod, lulling you in and out of slumber.

“he’ll eat my fist again if he snitches” you giggle, it’s not funny, ao’nung is your brother, but his face on that day when he got punched by lo’ak was something to die for.

“im serious! he’ll regret opening his mouth cuz i’ll make sure bro never speaks again”

“lo’ak, you’ll be okay, ao’nung was just joking around” you smile up at him, he glances at you before letting a smile quirk up on his lips as-well.

lo’ak sighs, “your mom is terrifying y/n, you’re so different from her.”

“neytiri is just as scary..” you shudder and lo’ak laughs loudly,

“i can’t disagree with you on that”

Your eyes widen as you get up and put your palm over his mouth, your body hovering over his as his arms hold your waist to prevent you from falling on top of him

“not so loud forest boy!” you smile as you narrow your eyes at him, removing your palm from his face as you stay in position.

“sorry..” lo’ak breathes out, he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, like ewya sculpted you with her own hands.

‘fuck, she’s pretty’

It wouldn’t take a genius to guess lo’aks inner monologue. You look like an angel.

He realizes you’re on top of him and suddenly his heart is beating a whole lot faster, his cheeks are turning a whole lot redder, and speaking seems like an insanely tough task for some reason.

“y/n..” he whispers, opening his mouth to say something but closing it just as quick.

“yeah?” you smile fondly at him, cheeky almost. Your hand finds its way to his face, thumb stroking his cheek lovingly.

“i- i see you” its quiet, so quiet that you wouldn’t hear it if you weren’t so close to him.

“lo’ak..” your pupils dilate and you gasp softly, letting your jaw hang slightly.

“y/n i love you so much, you don’t even know” he whispers again and you almost fall on top of him from the shock of the sudden confession.

you stare. he stares back.

you smile. he smiles back.

your eyes crinkle and you dip down, he closes his eyes, ready to kiss you! Yes! He’s been waiting for this moment since forever!

You touch your forehead to his and look at his eyes, giggling at his face when he doesn’t receive a sweet kiss from his oh so sweet girl.

His face contorts into a shocked expression , his eyes narrowing in fake offense, he grabs your hips and quickly turns you around, him on top of you as you lay beneath him.

“oh so you think this is funny?” he questions, a smirk on his lips, you wanna kiss it off him so bad.

“so funny” you close your eyes and pucker your lips in a poor imitation of lo’ak and you giggle as he gives you a look that feigns hurt.

he dips in to kiss you as you dodge it and laugh again, finding his misery quite amusing.

“y/n.. i just wanna give you a kiss” lo’ak whispers, his voice soft and his eyes hold a gentle adoration for you.

you cup his face in your hands, you see his eyes dropping to your lips and coming back up to gaze into your eyes, you bring him closer to your face and he reaches forward, waiting just an inch away from your lips to ask for approval.

“you sure you wanna kiss me now? can’t back off later” he teases. Oh how the tables turn!!!

“shut up lo’ak” you whisper and he finally slots his lips against yours, you don’t think he knows what he is doing, this is his first ever kiss, but damn can he kiss well, not that you have anything to compare to, but it feels so good!

You kiss him back, his face in your hands as he tilts his neck to deepen it.

Slightly out of breath, you pull away and he chases your lips, you smile “slow down, forest boy”

He’s panting, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. ‘cute’ you think, you’re about to bring his face close to yours again for a peck but are interrupted by your dearest of brothers.

“Lo’ak you little shit” Ao’nung laughs as he walks through the curtain at the entrance of your marui. Lo’ak gets off of you in a hurry as he helps you sit up aswell.

A groan makes its way out your throat, the disappointment of interruption and the interruption being your brother.

“ ‘nung, you can’t tell mom and dad.” you plead

“you’re so lucky i don’t snitch, if dad finds out lo’ak was on top of his little baby daughter he would never let y/n go out again” he chuckles, sounding kind of evil..

“future blackmail i suppose”

grinning at you both as he walks out the marui “don’t go too far now baby tail, i should be beating your ass for this”

lo’ak huffs as he buries his face in your shoulder, you let out a sigh.

“it’s almost morning, you should go, your mom will definitely know if she wakes up and you’re not there” you say as you grab his hand and tug him towards the entrance.

“ao’nung better keep his mouth shut tomorrow when we’re training”

“i’ll make sure he does, now hurry and go back, get some rest okay?” you smile

“yeah, gimme a kiss”

you circle your arms around his waist and crane your head up to give him a quick peck, giggling afterwards and pushing him out of your marui.

“see you tomorrow?”

“duh” you roll your eyes and he smiles at you

“bye cutie pie”

he cringes at the nickname and grumbles while walking backwards, his eyes never leaving your giggly figure.

“don’t miss me too much lo’ak!”

“i definitely will” you grin and watch him turn around and walk to his marui, which was surprisingly just 4 marui pods away.

Getting in trouble seems worth it when you’re with Lo’ak, but he thinks he loves your good girl persona more than he likes getting in trouble.

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siriusblackloml · 4 months

Text

just for me - george weasley x reader smut (PART 3)

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: george weasley x fem!reader

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 11.7k

𝙖𝙣𝙤𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩: “i was wondering if you could maybe write anything abt virgin killer!george weasley?? like im sorry hes the finest mf around ik he gets MAD hoes so when he finally acknowledges this preppy, nice and innocent mc he jus knows he has to ruin her"

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: he fucked up. quite horribly, too. george swooped in, made his move, and tried to get on his life like he always does after he's finished with a random hookup. now you were avoiding him and pretty much making him live in agony as a result of his shitty actions. george will soon come to realize you had a much larger impact on his life than he would ever imagine.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: swearing, a LOT of angst

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚: i’m still not done with this series but instead of keeping it three parts, i decided to add a fourth :) i hope you all enjoy this and please forgive me for the very long wait. i’ve had so much going on irl. part four is coming soon!

part one ┊ part two ┊part three ┊pt. 4 coming soon!

George had a funny little hop in his step as he walked through the grass. Not that it was truly intentional. He was just…very, very happy. There was too much adrenaline fogging his brain to really comprehend anything in this moment of time. He was acting as though he hadn’t just fucked you senseless in the field of grass outside the school.

He felt proud of himself. He thought that this moment was worth all the celebrating in the world. All of his hard work had built up towards this moment and it paid off so much. You were absolutely amazing. Actually, he wondered to himself, was it possible to say that you were perfect? If he had to be honest with himself, you were everything he wanted in a girl.

Physically, of course. It’s not like he was looking to start a relationship or anything. Sure, he just told you that he would see you around, but he had to use that more as a lie to try and leave the precious moment between you two on a positive note. False hope, deception, bullshit, call it anything you want, George didn’t regret it. He knew that if he just walked away he probably would have left you crying right there on the spot. He’s not sure he would ever be able to forgive himself if he did that.

At the end of the day, George knew better than to actually see you again. That’s why from here on out, it would be nothing more than talking in class. If he even brought himself to do that.

George couldn’t shake the smile from his face as he walked into the Gryffindor common room. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, contrasting the chilly breeze outside. Not that he was cold; the boy was still quite feverish from how hard he had just fucked you. Students were chatting amongst one another about their day and what was to come for the rest of the night. George noticed some students who were admirably trying to complete homework in the midst of the constant chatter. He thought of you for a split second. Remembering all the time you spend studying for homework and exams. He literally interrupted you studying earlier, but you didn’t seem to mind.

Those thoughts of you were immediately discarded once he noticed a familiar duo in the corner of the room arguing with one another. It was George’s younger brother, Ron, and his friend Hermoine. What the two of them were arguing about was unbeknownst to him, but George caught the eye of someone sitting in a chair eating candy, watching the scene unfold like it was a drama. It was Fred, his fiery-red haired twin, who was popping the sweet treats into his mouth like he was eating popcorn at the movie theater. It must have been very entertaining watching Ron and Hermoine argue, as Fred couldn’t seem to pry his eyes off the show in front of him.

George walks up to Fred and snaps his fingers. He immediately catches the attention of Fred, who boggles at him as if to ask, what the hell do you want? George motions for the boy to follow him. Fred gets up from his seat and follows George up the flight of stairs towards the empty dormitories. George seemingly couldn’t break the smile on his face so Fred immediately knew what was going on.

As soon as they were out of earshot of other people, Fred asked George, “So? Did it finally happen?”

George nods his head excitedly and eagerly answers, “Yes! It did!”

The twin embraces his brother with a cheeky clap of hand that morphed into a side hug. He was obviously very proud of George for his achievement. It’s not every day you take your classmate's virginity in the middle of a grassy field. Not that Fred really needed to know that last small detail.

“I can’t believe you popped her cherry. I didn’t think she was ever going to budge.” Fred shakes his head in disbelief. The brother was referring to the fact he knew of your innocence. George remembers back to the day his twin told him about how you were positively a virgin. He could have sworn he melted on the spot from the newfound information. It was at that moment he knew he needed to be the one to ruin your innocence.

And innocent you were. Well, for the most part, anyway. Your mouth depicted otherwise given all the profanity you were throwing at George. He couldn’t get over how mouthy you were during the entire session. The pathetic begging, the whining, the swearing. It was like heaven to his ears. It only made him want to drill his cock inside your pretty pussy even harder. Which he did, of course, and he loved watching the way your face would contort into pleasure at every thrust.

Fred clapped his brother’s shoulder, pulling George from his daydreaming. He said in a cheerful tone, “Good for you, mate. So when are you seeing her again?”

Fred’s brother immediately scoffs at the question. George thinks to himself, as if that’s happening. He had a very set rule for himself which was so straightforward it would take an absolute idiot to not understand. This easy rule was simple to follow; he didn’t give any of his hookups a second chance. They were a one and one time only situation. George was afraid that if he were to consistently see the same girl, he would give the impression that he wanted things to develop into something more. Of course he did like the girls, but it was more so for their physical appearance over their personality. Not that yours was bad, he actually quite enjoyed talking to you.

Maybe even a little more than any other girl. You did leave his heart fluttering every now and then, which was strange for George to understand because it had never happened before. The boy shakes his head. He can’t keep thinking about you. No girl had ever left him so flustered before and he was not about to let that ruin his night of celebration. Celebrating you, of course. Or more so, the dirty act you two shared.

To avoid giving you any kind of false hope, George plans to keep to himself from here on out. George tells his brother, “No, I don’t want her to think I’m, like, into her, know what I mean?”

Fred shrugs out of confusion and raises an eyebrow, immediately striking back with, “Well, I kinda figured that’s what you wanted.”

George’s heart stops beating for just a split second. As if something shocked his entire body. What was Fred implying? Why would he assume that of his brother knowing his reputation? Hell, Fred has encouraged George in the past to avoid being with a girl more than one time to avoid the start of a relationship. Fred must know deep down that you weren’t any different from the rest of the girls George had been with…right?

George narrows his eyes at Fred and asks, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t you like her? I thought…well, I guess I was wrong.” Fred trails off as he notices George seemed very tense.

He was tense, and for good reason. George was nearly offended that his brother would ever assume that of him. He never broke the cycle in the past to see a girl more than once, why would he do it now?

But then again, why would Fred figure that in the first place? Was George doing something specific that would have implied that idea? Other than frequently talking to Y/N in class, calling her cute, and….no, any guy can do that and it doesn’t mean he wants to drop everything and date the girl right that second. Plus, George only hung out with you to get closer…obviously. Nothing more than just that. Fred was just jumping to conclusions. Conclusions he had no business assuming in the first place.

George stays silent and avoids the lingering gaze of his twin. He turns away from Fred as an indication that he no longer wanted to talk, to which his brother complied almost immediately. Fred left the room without much of anything else to say. Once George heard the door shut close, he walked across the bedroom towards a long floor length mirror to look at his disheveled appearance.

His clothes were untidy from the aftermath that was you. George rather liked this sight of his unkempt appearance knowing it was because of your bloody sex. He smirked to himself as he adjusted his clothes, tucking his shirt into his trousers and fixing his tie. Just looking at his clothes reminded him of everything with you.

The sweetness of your moans, the tightness of your wet cunt, the way your face looked underneath his power. In the midst of him reminiscing, he thought back to the first time he ever saw you in class. That pretty girl was so far gone now. The girl he first met was completely different from the girl he just saw in the field. Her innocence was gone, stolen from her, in a way that was rough and possibly even catastrophic.

The girl George knew first was too sweet for her own good. He almost…missed it. The way you blushed so easily from any of his flirty comments, or the little gasps that escaped your mouth from every tiny brush of his hand.

These memories started to flash across the boy’s mind before he could even process them all. The countless times he would flirt with you behind Snape’s back, your sneaky giggles to avoid catching attention from the professor, all the times you would have to help him with his homework because he was absolutely clueless. The way he would glance at your hair because you always styled them in the cutest clips…or the way he would stare at your face because you were absolutely beautiful.

Then again, George loved staring at your face when you were underneath him, writhing in pleasure from the force of his cock. He needed to remind himself that whatever innocent girl he first met was far gone now. He destroyed her, deflowered her, anything he could think of, he did it. And shouldn’t he be proud of himself for that?

At this moment, George heard his stomach start to grumble. He realized that he had not eaten anything since earlier this morning and was quite hungry. George finishes fixing his clothes and grabs his robe, trying to ignore the thoughts flooding his mind of how he tied a robe to a fucking tree just an hour earlier.

Within minutes, he found himself going downstairs into the common room and finding a group of his friends and brothers already planning to march towards the Great Hall for dinner. George immediately tags along, jumping into conversation as if he had been there the whole time. As the group of boys wandered down hallways and waltzed around cold corridors, they would joke about anything and everything possible. George loves these nights with his friends where nothing else matters but how much fun they’re having. His mind had barely any focus on you anymore.

However, that did not last very long. Once George arrived at the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but steal a glance towards the table you would typically sit for meals. Your seat was vacant, though. Completely empty while the remainder of your friends sat in their own respective spots, chatting as if nothing was wrong. Clearly there was something wrong; you weren’t here for dinner.

George thought of this as strange. He assumed that enough time had passed that you would have already come back to the school, gotten cleaned up, and would be coming downstairs for your meal. Maybe you were running late, he thought to himself.

He shrugs his shoulders and turns back towards his friends, cracking joke after joke that erupted the entire group of boys into massive fits of laughter. Even though George was having a good time, his mind couldn’t stay focused on his friends for long.

Every few minutes he’d get the urge to see if you were walking in the room. He’d frequently look towards the grand doors, walking students flood in and out, but never would he spot your cute hairclips amongst the crowd of people. He would even look back at your spot at the table. Ten minutes had passed, then it was twenty, now it was nearing thirty, George still couldn’t find you.

Was it possible that you just stayed in the field after George left? He wondered this to himself, biting his lip in frustration because all he wanted to know was that you were okay. Why? He didn’t have the answer for that. But as long as he was able to see you, that’s all that mattered to George. Where on earth had you gone? There were multiple questions scattered across the boy’s mind and he hated not knowing anything.

Sitting in the Great Hall trying to chase for an answer in his mind was giving George enough frustration to leave the group of friends early. He complained of being tired, to which his friends all chuckled deeply knowing why he would have been so exhausted (Fred’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor when he realized his brother had sex in a field).

The boy left his group of friends to wander the hallways of Hogwarts. He flew up a flight of stairs to get to the second floor, maneuvering his way through a crowd of people to try and find a very particular window. It was one that overlooked the territory surrounding Hogwarts. It was an important window to him as it was pointed in the direction of the same tree you would have been sitting under. George secretly hoped he would be able to see a tiny, black dot under this tree, indicating that you had never left your spot after all.

Upon arrival at this windowsill that George had been desperately trying to look for, he peered outside only to see nothing. There was not one black speck amongst the green grass that would have implied you were still studying your materials. This meant you left the tree long ago, that you were probably wandering the school now doing Godric knows what.

Why did this leave George feeling…uneasy? His heart dropped when he realized that you were no longer outside. He hated this feeling because it was completely new to him. It also brought on an array of questions, the most common one that crossed his mind being, why on earth does he care so much about a girl he hooked up with? Why was he so worried? Why did he hope to find you so desperately? It wasn’t like he was planning on talking to you, or anything more than that really.

George went to sleep that night with you on his mind. It was hard to fall asleep in the first place, however. He was tossing and turning for an hour straight trying not to worry about your current whereabouts. Unfortunately, George didn’t sleep long either.

He’d wake up just a few hours into the night from a nightmare. It was a dream in which he lost you forever.

»——•——«

The next day…

»——•——«

George felt a massive shift in the atmosphere the moment he woke up. He had a weird gut feeling about today, mostly because he was worried about where you’d gone last night. However, his worries would only worsen upon his first period class.

You didn’t show up. To be more specific, you didn’t show up to Professor Snape’s class, which is a huge no-no in not only the professor’s book, but your own as well. You’d never missed class before as far as George was aware. Having to miss any kind of class nearly disgusted you, and you were for sure always present in Snape’s class given the consequences that would likely follow. The professor was keen on giving detention just for missing one class period. Not that you would probably earn one since you were his star student.

What on earth would have caused you to miss class? George wondered if there was a sort of emergency that you had to attend to, but his gut told him otherwise. His stomach felt like there was a knot in it the moment he walked into the room and didn’t see you. He had already felt uneasy just during the walk to the classroom.

George didn’t see you in the hallway like he usually would in the mornings. He silently hoped and wished it was only because you had already arrived to class early, or maybe it was because you happened to be running late. Even if that was the case, he still felt weird about it because you were always to arrive at class at a very particular time.

The boy started catching on that you would try and time your walk in the hallway so that the two of you would arrive at the doorway nearly at the exact same time. George never made a comment about this to you; he secretly thought it was adorable that you were so head over heels for him that you would go to such lengths to be sure you both arrived at the same time.

And here he was, reminiscing those memories. They all felt lightyears away now. He took advantage of those days. The ones where he could admire you walking down the hallway in your cute skirt and hairclips, then he got to wink at you during class at random intervals. A million questions raced through his mind. So much so, that he couldn’t focus on a single word that came out of Snape’s mouth. Not that he usually paid much attention anyway. He would always be too distracted by your beauty.

Amongst the million questions that ran through his head, one question continued to linger on George’s mind while he sat in class; had he ruined things between you two?

He never asked himself this kind of question before because it has never been an issue in the past. He moved on easily every single time he had been with a girl, why couldn’t he let you go?

What caused this to start? His infatuation with you, that is. Was it just because you guys talked frequently during class? Well that couldn’t be all, there had been times George hooked up with girls he knew for years and never felt this way before. Was it only because he knew you were a virgin? While that factor going into sex with you was very exciting, it wouldn’t be enough for him to be this obsessed with your unknown whereabouts.

George tried finding something that would have sparked his sudden interest in you, when his heart dropped in the middle of a thought. The realization hits him like a brick and his breath is immediately knocked out of his lungs. The past day has been spent worrying not only about where you were, but just you in general. Absolutely nothing else mattered in the world but you.

While George wasn’t the sharpest tool in the box, he didn’t need a genius to tell him that he was falling for you. That realization alone was enough to shake him to his core. It was as though everything in his brain had shut off completely, all except that circuit that left his mind running on loop thinking about you and you only. And maybe it wasn’t exactly love that he was feeling, but it was definitely…something. It was the sort of “something” that made George want to drop everything he was doing just to be with you. Because even if it wasn’t love that he was experiencing, the boy knew he was feeling something intense for you and needed to share that with you as soon as possible.

Given he was in quite possibly the most boring classroom of all, George didn’t even give his plan a second thought. He collected his belongings and shoved them into his bag, got up from his desk, and exited the room without a word. The only thing on his mind was finding you.

With a rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms, George started to pace the hallways in hopes he would randomly catch sight of you around a corridor. When that plan failed, he stood still for a few minutes to try and pinpoint exactly where you could have been. While it was possible that you were simply hiding in your house dormitory from the rest of the world, George played with the idea that you were possibly hiding in the library. The only reason he could think of such a place was not only because he knew how studious you were, it was the only other location that you two shared.

It was really only that, the classroom, and that damn field. Having to think about the field burned a massive hole in George’s heart. He knew now, after some reflection, that what he did was awfully wrong. How he didn’t realize it before was beyond him. He was too caught up with his ego and so used to dropping a girl as quick as he saw her, he assumed everything would be the same when it came to you.

You were different though. George knew that now. And having to think back to the way he used you in that field yesterday made him gulp hard. He wondered, why did he put you through that? He felt like complete shit now.

All he could think about was you. How you must have felt about all this. Surely enough, you must have felt used. You didn’t deserve that. George stormed down the hallway, ears ringing with anticipation to find you as soon as possible.

»——•——«

You had been sitting in the library by yourself. Well, obviously you had been. Everyone else was in their respective classes at the time. Not you, though. It was just too much to bear right now with how fresh yesterday’s situation was.

The fact that you were skipping class made you feel so beyond guilty. For a second, you thought you must have been insane to even consider the idea in the first place. You’d never skipped class before, so going through with the last minute plan was enough to make you bite your nails out of anxiety. However, nothing could compare to the feeling that would have hit you if you had to sit through class next to George Weasley.

Just that thought alone made you sick to your stomach. It would have been a million times worse than what you were feeling now. You knew that you couldn’t skip the next class period with him, however even if you got a chance to skip today, you’d take it. You couldn’t bear looking at his face…as if nothing ever happened between you two.

Was this what you were made for? To be used by men? That’s all you felt right now; used.

If you had the chance, you would have gone back in time and changed the narrative entirely. You would have stolen that freaking time-turner from Professor McGonagall just to stop yourself from getting hypnotized by his charm. George Weasley was reckless and it affected you too much.

You were careful before you met the boy. Very cautious, you kept to yourself. Never once did you ever consider lusting after a boy the way you did for George, dreaming up a fantasy where the two of you were happily ever after. And now everything in your life is crashing down all around you. As if you’ve lost complete control.

You were as reckless as he was.

He sucked you into this kind of void and it left you unable to breathe, unable to move, unable to think straight. That’s why you were hiding in the library. If the thought of George was making you feel this uneasy, you couldn’t even fathom what would have happened today if you walked into class and sat right next to him.

As if nothing had happened.

You wondered if you would have been able to contain yourself if you did end up going to class anyway. You’re not sure if you would have cried, screamed at him, or just stayed silent. You were not one to really stand up for yourself, but then again, so much has changed about yourself in the last few weeks you weren’t sure if that was so true anymore.

The library was dead silent besides your occasional turn of the pages in your book. You busied yourself by catching up on some reading you were meant to read yesterday. While you did your best to read the book last night in bed, it was quite difficult to focus with the amount of tears that welled up in your eyes. Thankfully, you were a bit more composed today and felt confident enough to tackle a couple chapters during this quiet time.

As you sat silently, taking in the information about an aging potion, you could hear a door open in the distance of the library. The noise was followed by footsteps that increased in volume, indicating that someone was definitely walking in your direction. You can’t help but look up at the noise, half expecting to see either one of your girlfriends or even Snape himself wondering why you weren’t in class.

However, nothing could have prepared you for the boy who was walking towards you. It was George, of course. Because who else would it be at this time of day?

Immediately your eyes widen as your stomach sinks. It felt like the entire world was falling apart around you in an instant. You could have sworn that your heart skipped multiple beats in a row. Just the sight of George was nearly giving you a heart attack. What on earth did he have to say? Better yet, what were you going to say? Was he even worth the talk?

Gulping silently, you just watch as he approaches you in the dead silent room. He seemed to slow down his pace the moment you two made eye contact. As much as you wished it would have been enough to stop him dead in his tracks, he kept walking towards you. He adjusts his tie and clears his throat as casually as possible.

Without asking for permission, George pulls out the chair to your right and seats himself. He jumps right into a sort of interrogation, asking you, “Why weren’t you in class?”

You have to tell yourself to act like you don’t care that he’s here. Obviously he didn’t care about you enough yesterday to stay with you in that field, or even talk to you in general about what you two were. You were just a toy for him to fuck and get over in a matter of minutes. Keeping this in mind, and partially taking notice of the anger that was clearly bubbling inside you, you sneer at George and mutter under your breath, “I didn’t feel like it.”

Not your strongest moment, but it was blunt and rude. You figured it would get the point across that you weren’t very happy with him. So much for not letting it seem like it bothered you. You realized it was a bit harder to hold back your emotion than you originally thought. That doesn’t mean you’re going to beat yourself up over this, though. You would much rather seem angry in front of George than sad or depressed. The last thing you want to do is bawl in front of him.

Did he really deserve to even know that you were angry with him though? You started to regret even talking to him in the first place. Too many questions were swirling around your mind for you to find focus. It made your head pound with pain.

“I need to ask you something.” George tells you while awkwardly biting his lip and shifting uncomfortably in his chair. He starts to pull hair away from his face and run his fingers through his hair. It takes a lot of power to try not to notice how attractive he looked whenever he played with his hair like that.

Your back straightens and you instinctively lean in towards him, eager to hear what he has to say. You respond in a dry tone, “What is it?”

Suddenly, George is leaning forward and grabbing you by the chin with his fingers, forcing your eyes to take in his weary face. You gasp quietly, heart feeling like it was being stabbed, it was throbbing so hard.

He asks you in a frantic voice, “Things feel different for you, too, don’t they?”

You raise an eyebrow, confused. Things? Between the two of you? Well…of course they were different. Before yesterday, you two were just classmates that would flirt. Now, you didn’t even know whatever “this” was. It was disgusting, that’s what you thought to yourself. It left you feeling used.

So what the hell was he implying? You let him hold your chin a while longer and ask softly, “What do you mean?”

George blinks once, twice, three times before he gulps hard.

“I-Well-…I don’t know…” He starts to sputter out anything that comes to mind. He can’t seem to explain himself fast enough, or find the words in general.

You pull away from his grasp, narrowing your eyes as you pick apart his act. This was all fake, wasn’t it? Just another fucking plan to woo you? He would act all pitiful and sad to express how much he didn’t mean it, all just to see you naked again. That’s exactly what this was.

“You’re just trying to get in my pants again, aren’t you?” You snap at George with a nasty tone. You stand up from your chair dramatically, hearing the scrape of wood against stone echo throughout the empty library.

George stands up nearly as quick as you do the moment the words are leaving your mouth. He tries to extend his arms out to grasp you, but misses as you take a step back. Throwing everything in your backpack as fast as you possibly can, you notice George in the corner of your eye starting to inch closer to you again with a nervous voice, “W-What?! No! Y/N, I swear-”

You throw all your books in your bag and slam the chair into the desk, snapping at George with a newfound fury you hadn’t realized was inside you all this time. You tell him, “Do me a favor George; leave me the FUCK alone.”

It was obvious that the sentence alone was enough of a threat to the boy. The anger laced in your tongue hits George like a million knives, putting him in his place immediately. He falls silent immediately, watching you walk away from the scene without another word.

However, what he didn’t see was the tears building up along your lash line. As much as you hated his guts, you were still falling madly in love with the idiot. You hated yourself as much as you hated him.

»——•——«

Two days later…

»——•——«

George knew you couldn’t avoid him forever, but he didn’t realize just how damn sneaky you could really be. After the horrific interaction in the library just days before, the boy wouldn’t see you again until the next session in Professor Snape’s potion class. He no longer saw you in the hallways or the Great Hall. You obviously made a substantial deal to be sure that there would be little to no chance of ever seeing you outside of class again.

Not seeing you for days straight made George feel even worse. He wasn’t sure if he should have looked forward to potions or not, assuming that you would be there of course. Sure enough, you were present in class, but it did not make the situation any better. When George walked into the room, he immediately spotted you at the front of the classroom speaking to Professor Snape in hushed whispers. Whatever was being discussed, Snape looked very concerned.

Such an indication did not stop George from calling out your name. In a loud voice, he said across the room, “Hey, Y/N!”

He wasn’t even quite sure why he said your name, if he had to be honest with himself. It kind of slipped out before he had time to process it all. Maybe his gut thought that trying to talk to you in class was going to go better than how the discussion went down in the library a couple days prior. Perhaps the crowd surrounding you two would force you to act a bit nicer; allow him to get his words out and express his feelings about everything.

Both you and Snape turn to look at George, who is awkwardly waving and sheepishly smiling. But in an instant you shoot him a glare. Even Professor Snape was scowling at him. While this was a normal occurrence for George in front of just about any teacher, it seemed that Snape was going out of his way to make his scowl even deeper and nastier than usual.

Right away, you had seated yourself in a chair closest to the professor’s desk. Keeping your back to George, he was forced to position his gaze back on his professor. Snape’s dirty look did not go away as he gave out instructions. “George, you’ll be sitting in this seat for the rest of the year.”

The teacher walked George to his new spot, which was the furthest point from your new seat at the front of the classroom. He was all the way in the back. This kind of seating chart is a great opportunity for a prankster like George to unleash his full potential on the entire class, but he couldn’t even relish in this once in a lifetime lucky chance he’d been granted. The boy felt everything opposite of that expected feeling.

George’s stomach felt like it had dropped to the floor. He realized very quickly that you had purposely asked for this separation from him. Whatever you told Snape, it was to avoid having any further conversation with George during class.

He was convinced he was going to lose his mind over you. He had to get a hold of you, and soon.

»——•——«

Many weeks later...

»——•——«

You thought you were going to lose your mind having to avoid the boy like this, day in and out. At this point, it was becoming a routine. One that you had to follow religiously in order to avoid any kind of possible conflict with George.

Of course, deep down you want to listen to what he has to say. You know it might be valuable in a sense…but at the same time, he deceived you once, he could easily do it again. How were you supposed to know he wasn’t trying to apologize just to appeal to your sensitive side, only to try and slide into your pants once again? Something like this was too difficult to decipher. Therefore, you were much more comfortable just glancing at George from a far distance. He didn’t deserve to talk to you…as much as you wanted to talk to him.

One night, as you are exiting the Great Hall after eating a delicious meal, you begin to make your way to the dormitories. Your mind is too preoccupied on the immense amount of homework you have later tonight to hear the sound of footsteps following close behind you. It’s not until the fiery-red haired boy is in your peripheral vision that you realize someone was near you.

In a matter of seconds, your heart drops into your stomach without even having to look George directly in the face. He had your full attention now without even having to try, let alone look at him.

While your heart was pounding out of your chest, you tried your best to focus more on how annoying it was becoming that George wasn’t going to let you go so easily. Why did he want to talk to you so badly anyway? Just to have sex again? With an eye roll, you pick up the pace and start to walk faster down the hallway. You had hoped that the silent treatment would work enough to scare him away.

George attaches himself to your side immediately and says, “Y/N, stop, please. I want to talk to you.”

Keeping your head forward, he is only met with silence. Obviously angered by your immature attitude, he scoffs under his breath and reveals a nasty look on his face; as if that was meant to make you feel bad for him.

It was amusing to see him get his knickers in a twist just from not speaking. It was almost hard to hold back from smirking in front of the boy. However, deep down you were still just as scared of talking to George as you were most days since everything occurred. He just had this kind of effect on you where it felt like no matter how angry you acted around him, your heart was still soft for his stupid antics.

You didn’t dare reveal that to him; you were still recovering from the massive damage he had done to your emotional state. You shuffle past George as fast as possible, still refusing to make any sort of eye contact with him.

Eventually, he jumps right in front of you, preventing you from moving anymore. You jump from the action and immediately snap, “What on earth do you want with me, George?”

He takes a step forward to close the gap, his eyes staring deeply into your own. He starts to stumble over his words, “G-Godric, Y/N, I didn’t think you’d ever…I just wanted to…bloody hell, I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“Then don’t bother, okay?” You tell him, moving around his figure to get away from the conversation. It’s hard to believe he has anything worthwhile to tell you in the first place. However, there’s still a small sliver of hope that resides in your being, and it’s just enough to tell George, “I’ll see you around.”

You’re not sure what you mean when you say this. You figure that maybe it’s enough to keep you two on good terms. He didn’t really deserve more than that though. He was an ass and literally used you. But your heart ached for him nonetheless. You were always going to miss him, so why bother keeping up this anger front for the rest of the school year? It was killing you just to do it right now.

The boy doesn’t take long to get the hint. He stands still and merely watches you walk away. You can practically feel his eyes bearing a hole through the back of your skull from how hard he was staring.

Later that night, while you are lying in bed struggling to sleep thanks to all that was on your mind, you thought back to earlier. What was it he wanted to say to you? Why was it so urgent?

Curiosity would eventually kill the cat.

»——•——«

It's been months since that day in the field. You would still go out of your way to avoid George, and he has slowly stopped trying to make conversation with you entirely. Your heart ached for him each and every day, though. You missed having those silly conversations in class, waving to him in the Great Hall, and so much more. Part of you was even missing all those times he would desperately try to get your attention only for you to ignore it. You thought of it for the better, but looking back on it all, had that really been the best choice?

You can hear his little friend group whisper among themselves whenever you and George are ever in the same room with one another. There was no doubt they knew about everything that happened. Which only made you feel more like shit; how dare they know you lost your virginity to a classmate you had fallen so deeply for. Not once had you ever felt so humiliated before. This was not how you expected your last year at Hogwarts to go. You anticipated much more out of this year. Laughing, studying, maybe some crying here and there, but not over a boy who used you for sex. That was the last thing you ever considered to happen to you.

In a weird sort of way, George felt much like the yin to your yang. The way the two of you could come together and have so much fun despite your differing personalities always blew you away. He completed the missing pieces within you. It was an act that you didn’t think was possible, especially knowing it was someone you met so recently. That being said, you can’t help but miss those moments of bliss with one another.

Just the thought of him makes you shudder. Not out of disgust, but due to the ache in your heart that desired more from him. If anything, it was likely to be from the immense guilt and shame that clouded your every being since the day everything happened with George. Why on earth would you miss someone like him when he was so mean?

It is winter break now. A large majority of students had left to go home, but you were staying at Hogwarts. The last few days were spent reading books you meant to catch up on ages ago. You had to occasionally flit around the hallways in order to avoid the Weasleys. It was so convenient that they happened to be here during the holidays at the same time as you. But at this point in the year, you had started to grow used to it all. It’s all you could do in order to “cope” with the sadness that hung heavy in your heart.

You were in the library again, turning page after page in your book. You were slowly catching yourself starting to space out. Rightly so, as it had been a couple hours of sitting here and you were slowly growing hungry. You could barely focus when your stomach continuously growls.

As you start to put away your book in your bag, alongside anything else you had pulled out, you could hear footsteps walking past you. You didn’t think much of it until you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello, Y/N.” George says.

A chill runs up your spin, hair standing up on the back of your neck. Goosebumps trail up and down your arms as your throat runs dry. If it wasn’t obvious you were nervous before, it was now. Your eyes shot up towards the boy, watching him stand near you with a soft smile and blushed cheeks. This hadn’t been how you anticipated the night to go at all, but you couldn’t bear to embarrass yourself any longer.

You muster up enough courage to respond back. “Hey, George.”

“How are you doing?” He replies, watching you closely as you continue to put away your belongings into your bag at a slow pace. Your hands were shaking slightly from the anxiety coursing through your veins. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d wager that George was in the exact same boat as you were.

He was clutching a couple books tight to his chest, finger tapping anxiously along the spines. He kept swaying back and forth, biting his lip and avoiding eye contact on occasion.

It had been so long since the two of you last spoke. You knew deep down you had been wanting this for ages, missing these small conversations. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to be civil, at least this once, you wondered to yourself. You had never held a grudge for so long before, and you weren’t about to let it continue. Maybe this was your chance to let bygones be bygones and let George know that you’ve moved on (that’s a big lie, but what he doesn’t have to know won’t hurt him).

So, you decide to interact with him some more. You tell him, “I’ve been doing fine.”

George cracks that gorgeous smile of his and nods his head. He chimes in, “Good, good, I’m happy to hear that.”

You decide not to comment on that. However, there is no denying that little explosion of butterflies in your stomach. Well, that and the loud rumble that follows.

Your stomach growls out of hunger once again, clearly indicating between both parties that you were getting hungrier by the second. Cheeks red from embarrassment, you try to save yourself by saying, “I’m heading to the Great Hall. Just wanted to get in some light reading before supper.”

“Can I walk with you?” George asks as soon as you’re finished speaking.

His voice was soft despite the request filling you with fear in an instant. You did want to walk with him, but what were his intentions? The prospect of having to venture anywhere with George at your side was slightly concerning since you hadn’t done so since…well, before everything.

You shoot him a slight glare, immediately questionable about why he wanted to. He picked up on this, placing his hands in a defensive position and exclaiming, “I’m going there already! I was just about to leave for supper myself. I figured if you were going, maybe we could walk together. That’s all I wanted.”

Maybe it’s the innocence of his request, or those stupid puppy dog eyes, but you’re not entirely opposed to the idea. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea to walk with him if that’s all that would come out of it in the end. Nothing more, nothing less. You knew eventually this would likely happen anyway. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

Simultaneously, you found yourself wondering if you were being foolish to even entertain the possibility of this. Only an idiot would want to walk with the same man who used her for sex; but here you were, being as foolish as ever. Due to his undeniable appeal and practically begging to walk with you, you’re giving him permission to be in your company. While your eyes were darting around anywhere in the room but George, you tell him, “That’s fine, you can join me.”

Walking out of the library with George next to your side feels strange. At the same time, you feel even weirder for thinking that. At some point during the school year, this felt so completely normal to you. Now it was all just an out of body experience. As if the two of you were strangers all over again. Your heart was beating so rapidly out of your chest you thought you were going to have a heart attack.

The hallways leading to the Great Hall were completely empty. It was likely that whatever remaining students that were on campus were eating at the moment. The echo of your and George’s footsteps, alongside the dim lighting, made the situation all the more stressful for you. It was like you were stuck in place despite moving closer and closer to your destination.

After a minute of walking and absolutely no words spoken, George breaks the silence. He asks, “Can I speak to you for just a moment?”

“Is it about all that happened between us?” You wonder, your throat constricts the more you talk. You’re sure you are on the verge of tears just from the thought of it all. However, maybe this was the closure that you needed. Maybe this is what you needed to move forward and get on with your life without worrying about some red-haired boy running amuck in the school hallways and classrooms.

He clears his throat, “Yeah, it’s about that. I have something really important I want to tell you, Y/N.”

You internally go back and forth about whether or not you want to hear it, wondering if what he has to say will truly have any meaning at all. George dislikes the long pause it takes for you to say anything. He steps in front of you and blocks your path. He places his hands on your shoulders to prevent you from being able to walk away.

You huff and puff out of annoyance, sneering at him to say, “Let go of me, George.”

“Y/N, please, I just-” He tightens his grip on your shoulders. This causes you to shake from his hold, just barely escaping and nearly dropping your bag in the process. You’re growing more and more irritated by the way he was acting. Why was he being so handsy with you?

You snap at him out of annoyance, “Why the fuck do you need to touch me to tell me something? Just get on with it already-”

George stomps his foot on the ground, the loud sound echoing the walls of the empty hallway. He yells, “Listen to me!”

For the first time in a while, you finally stare into his eyes. Genuinely taking in his appearance and the emotion that has struck his face. It was at this moment you realized just how…damaged he was. He was on the verge of tears and his frail body was shaking from fighting back the floodgates in his eyes. Your heart feels like it’s breaking in two just from the sight. As much as he frustrates you, seeing this side of him makes your stomach sink.

George frustratingly runs his fingers through his hair as if to try and get a better grip on the reality that was taking place before him. He frowns deeply and tries to find his words. He stumbles over his words multiple times, “I-I just felt like…I didn’t think…you-you have to believe me, Y/N, I-I would never-”

You take this as an opportunity to reverse the roles, softly placing a hand on his shoulder as if to silently offer his support. Obviously his words and frustrations were weighing him down, and if there was anything you could do to encourage him to get his worries off his chest, maybe this was it. Just a small act of kindness. He was so desperately trying to hold you in place before this, he must have not realized he was really the one who needed to be weighed down in the first place. Otherwise his mind was going to run a million miles an hour and he would get nowhere with his speech.

You want him to know you’re willing to listen now, to give him a chance. All he wants is to be heard. In your own way, you wanted that too.

You wished you had been able to go back in time to just take things slower with George, to have been able to say no to his lust and just try to take things slower with him…if that was even possible. You wondered if George would have stopped talking to you if he realized you weren’t so easy to crack. Then again, you always felt that there was a spark between the two of you. Maybe at the time, if you had given yourself a moment to really speak your mind, he would have respected your wishes and things would have remained the same between you two. There is no way of knowing now. All you can do to make up for the horrible experience is to hear what he has to say.

The act gives George a chance to catch his breath. You watch his chest rise and fall multiple times, listening to the way he calms himself with a simple breathing exercise. He sighs and drops his shoulders, and you mimic his actions to try and ease your own anxieties. This was not going to be an easy conversation by any means, but it was about time it happened.

Seeing him slowly grow more comfortable seemed to ease the tension. George found himself breathing properly again and nodding his head, as if slowly trying to get back to the point he was originally trying to make in the first place.

You’re growing anxious to hear what he has to say. You pull your hand away from his shoulder and cross your arms, watching the way he shifts his body weight back and forth on the balls of his feet.

After what feels like a million years, he finally confesses. “I am so, so sorry for the way I treated you earlier this year. You didn’t deserve that at all. I have no excuse for my behavior. I don’t know why, but for such a long time now I have gone through girl after girl and never felt anything quite nearly the same as I do for you. You had such an impact on me…Godric, I sound so cringey saying that, but it’s the truth. I really do like you, Y/N. Everything about you and not just your body. I am so sorry for all that I did.”

The moment he finishes with his speech, your ears start to ring. You feel as though his words have stunned you. He liked you…for you? Then why did he do the things that he did?

You raise an eyebrow and look him up and down, as if you were a predator sizing up your meal. You ask him, “Then why did you do it? You always knew I was a virgin, isn’t that why you started talking to me in the first place?”

The question made your stomach drop. Having to talk to George about this makes you feel extremely queasy. George’s tears start to well even larger than before. He bites his bottom lip and looks down at his feet. He tells you, “At first, I saw you as just another girl. I thought you would be the same as the rest of the girls I have been with. Obviously I came to develop feelings for you, but I thought that if I just went about things like I usually do, the feelings would go away and I’d be on my way. But I realized afterwards that wasn’t the case with you. You were so different from the rest.”

Your heart sank hearing him admit to it all. You knew deep down this had always been his plan, you knew that he literally only saw you as an object from the start. However, there was an odd sense of relief that washed over you when he finally admitted to it all. Even though these were all your suspicions, hearing George confirm it all felt like you were finally coming to terms with everything. If anything, you actually had more respect for him.

You appreciate that he told you all of this. Looking back on the last couple months, you wished that you had allowed him to talk previously. This entire time he had tried desperately to tell you all of this and you just shot him down.

Not that you really regret it, though. At the time, you were very unstable with your emotions and you’re not too sure how the conversation would have gone down if he spoke with you weeks prior to today. Not only are you appreciative of the fact he was so honest, but hearing him say that he liked you back…it was like a dream come true. Never did you think he would ever like you the same way you did him.

You stayed silent, and apparently it was too long. George spoke again out of fear that he had scared you, frantically saying, “Please say something. I know you’re not happy with me, but I just need to hear-”

“I forgive you.” You blurt out.

It’s George's turn to fall silent now. Neither of you spoke for a period of time; how long exactly was unclear to you, but it felt too long. Assuming it’s your chance to try and save the conversation, you continue, “I know I’m probably crazy for this, but I forgive you. It takes a lot of courage to go up to a girl and admit that you screwed her over. I like that you were upfront with me about it all.”

Without missing a beat, George smiles harder and harder hearing you admit to your forgiveness. He takes a step forward with his arms open for a hug, but you immediately shoot him down. Placing a hand on his chest, you halt all movement. His entire face is struck with worry, and his mouth opens to apologize. You cut him off and say, “Just because I forgive, doesn’t mean I forget. You hurt me George. It absolutely crushed my soul when the person I thought was becoming my best friend used me and stole my virginity without a second glance. It sucked. That’s why I couldn’t even stand to look at you in the hallways or the classroom, let alone talk to you.”

Tears are welling in your eyes now. Your throat contracts the more you speak, and you have to stop because you know if you go any further it would just develop in a crying session. George nods his head and chokes back more tears, unable to prevent the shakiness in his voice.

“I-I feel like shit, Y/N. Every single day since I realized I fucked up, all I’ve wanted to do was talk to you about this. Like I said before, you deserve so much better. Thank you for forgiving me, though. I feel…better, now that I’ve talked to you about this.”

You smile and shove George’s shoulder in a playful manner, trying to ignore the burning in your eyes from all the tears. “No problem. Can we go eat now? I’m starving.”

George eyes you carefully as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said to him. If you had to be honest with yourself, you couldn’t either. However, now that the niceties were done and over with, you figured maybe starting over wouldn’t be such a bad idea with George. You can tell he’s genuinely sorry for all that he has done, and that he’s clearly changed drastically as a person (which you thought impossible for both Weasley twins).

Maybe dinner wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. You definitely weren’t going to do anything else with George. It would be too soon for that. Maybe a quick bite to eat while catching up on one another's lives would be enough for you tonight. Enough closure after this mess of a conversation. After this, you can go back to just being yourself and not have to worry about him anymore.

“W-We? You want to have dinner with me?” George asks you carefully.

You shrug your shoulders and start to slowly walk towards the Great Hall, George trailing behind you like a lost puppy. You tell him, “I don’t think it would hurt. Just for tonight, though. I figure we have a little catching up to do.”

George can’t stop smiling like an idiot, and you can’t either. Your heart was beating rapidly again, but this time it wasn’t out of fear. It was out of happiness. You’re beyond excited that the two of you were talking again. Not that you planned on staying best of friends, but a mutual likeness should be enough to get you through the remainder of the school year. However, that is quite the opposite of what happens.

The rest of the winter, you and George started to say hi to one another in the hallway again. That transitioned into sitting with one another in the Great Hall, maybe only once or twice a week but it happened nonetheless. Eventually, you and George were talking on a daily basis. Your relationship was slowly reversing back to its old ways, except there was minimal flirting and absolutely no touching. You made sure to lay some ground rules with him once you realized you and George were getting close again.

He promised to respect your wishes, and he has listened graciously so far. Your boundaries were quite simple to follow, but given George’s track record, it was surprising to see him listen so well. All that you asked was to keep everything between the two of your friends only and nothing more. You felt that after all that had happened, it would be best for the both of you to strictly keep things “professional” and not try to rush into anything so soon.

There was no denying you still had feelings for him, and knowing that George liked you back made it hard to not flirt with him in any way. But deep down, you knew that this was for the better. You’d rushed into something with him once before and it had a horrible ending, therefore you couldn’t risk that again. However, things were definitely changing to say the least.

It was obvious in the way your conversations started to last longer than just a minute or so. When you and George graduated from the casual “hello” while in passing and began to have full length conversations again, you quickly realized he was just as whimsical as you had known him from the beginning of the year.

You could never lose a sense of wonder while in his presence. He always had something to tell you, or a funny story that kept you on the edge of your seat. It first occurred to you that you were definitely falling for him once again in the midst of watching George play a prank on Professor Snape during class (the poor guy did not expect his pants to catch on fire. For a split second he almost convinced himself it was the doing of Peeves once again, but realized by the smirk on George’s face that it was no other than the evil twin himself).

That prank could have gone so horribly wrong if Professor Snape hadn’t noticed the flame among his dress pants. And even with the understanding that George’s actions were devastatingly brutal and just downright mean, your stomach felt as though it might explode with laughter (that died very quickly thanks to the glare Snape shot at you).

Even when he used magic in wrongful ways, had a track record with girls a mile long, and had even used you for sex, there was something too forgiving in your nature to just let George go entirely. You realized that you wanted him in your life, either as a best friend or something more. There was something about him that brought you to life. The spark that was lit in your heart was only alive when he was around. You never wanted it to go out, and so you soon realized you never wanted to let him go again.

In your eyes, even with all the mistakes he has made, George enclosed you in a space that left you wanting more. It wasn’t like you were trapped; you weren’t drowning in insufferable conversations or anything of the sort, you absolutely loved his company. You didn’t realize just how much you actually missed it until he started coming around again.

On top of all this realization, there was the fact he had changed considerably as a dear friend. He was much more careful in the way he spoke or acted around you. He wanted to respect your boundaries and never put your relationship at risk again. This is what made you appreciate him so much.

However, there was an obvious change in the atmosphere amongst you two during the springtime.

Winter had come and gone, your conversations were still lively as ever though. Just a couple weeks prior, he had begun walking you to your next class after potions together. It was during one particular day that sparked a sudden change in both your demeanors.

After class, you and George were walking down the corridors together just talking about the upcoming assignments and what you thought would be the best strategy for studying (George needed the advice given his history of failing horribly). While walking, a group of first-years were running amuck in the hallways, nearly trampling over you in the process of it all. Loud yells and feet clamoring against the stone floors filled your ears, your eyes barely having time to process how to avoid all the commotion.

George, however, had thought far ahead of you and made sure to wrap his arm around your shoulder and shield you from the upcoming blows of young, immature eleven-year-olds. He pulled your body in towards his own, protecting you for that brief moment of chaos.

Your body felt like it was exploding from his touch, immediately sobering you up and pulling you from your crazy thoughts. You looked up at George as soon as all the commotion had died down, and he looked down at you. Your mouth felt like it was going slack as you stood there completely frozen under his arm. George bores holes in your eyes, staring at you as if silently asking if this kind of action was allowed within your boundaries.

Without having to hear him say anything, you say, “It’s fine.”

The two of you continued walking down the hallway, talking as though nothing had happened. However, something did happen. It was the start of something new.

For the remainder of that walk to your next period, George kept his arm wrapped around your body as though you were his girl. It struck you as an extraordinary situation that left you dumbfounded for days on end.

First, you couldn’t get over the fact that he did it in the first place. Second, you couldn’t get over the fact that you let it happen. Now would not be a great time to fall back into old habits. You weren’t ready for anything explicit with George just yet. However, at the same time, you liked how protective he was being. You enjoyed having his arm around you. In a weird way, you felt safer. You craved…more.

That strange shift in the air between you two never really left. It only lingered, and continued to emphasize the more the two of you hung out. After that fateful day in the beginning of March, the day that really started to change your relationship with George once again, each week there was a designated day where the two of you just spent time with one another.

While you didn’t know for sure if this meant your relationship with George was developing outside of a friendship, you knew in your heart that it was probably a good sign of something heading towards that direction. If you were able to tolerate his conversations in the hallways from time to time, you had enough courage to be with him in a more secluded setting. This is what began the scheduled meetings once every week where the two of you would simply do homework or sit around and read books.

That same feeling of rapid heartbeats and butterflies in your stomach always came back in full swing the moment you two were together. It gave you flashbacks to that day out in the meadow where he swept you off your feet in an instant. While that memory used to leave you frustrated beyond belief, you could now thankfully say that you don’t fully regret doing what you did with George. You could now tell yourself that it was all just a lesson you had to come and learn the hard way.

The lesson in question? Don’t rush.

George’s arm always found its way around you while the two of you hung out, but it never furthered past that. It would happen at any given point. If there was an opportunity that arose, he would do anything to make sure he could place his arm around you in a protective manner. And it would stay there the remainder of the time you two hung out.

No one ever commented on the matter, not even you, which led George to believe that it was okay to continue doing so. It definitely was, in your book.

It’s late April now, months since you and George finally reconnected again and were practically best of friends. The two of you were sitting on a bench in a random hallway somewhere in Hogwarts. Being in different houses meant you could not be in one another’s common rooms. This was the best you could get, but it was comfortable enough.

You sat next to George while his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. You leaned into his touch, reading from your book about fantastic beasts and where to find them. George had just finished making a joke about the appearance of this one animal in the book, and it had you giggling beyond belief. You look up at George, eyes full of happiness and excitement. He looks back down at you, smiling hard.

George enjoys taking you by surprise. He leaves you wanting more from him and fills your chest with warmth. You weren't sure precisely what it was that you wanted more of, but you were certain that you didn't want this moment to stop. The expression caught in his eyes was pure protectiveness. You felt protected not just by his arm enveloping you, but also by the expression on his face as he gazed back at you. You felt comfortable and secure with him because of the way he looked at you. It was as if he was silently telling you that he genuinely wanted you for you.

Suddenly, while taking a glance at your lips, he's asking you, “Can I take you out on a date, Y/N? Like, a proper one. I feel like I owe that to you after all I’ve done.”

In an instant, you’re blushing like mad. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re smiling before you even realize it. You just nod your head, telling him, “Yes, I’d really like that, George. Thank you.”

He doesn’t respond with words, merely gives you a quick squeeze and looks back at the book you were reading, silently encouraging you to finish the chapter you started earlier.

TAGLIST: @calmspencer, @baddiebbarbietngz, @slytherclaw1978, @serendipitous-fernweh, @pandanation24, @rachelreallyroars, @tinafuentes, @chvmpion-jack, @ethereallovr, @godknows-shetried, @waggoth, @ellieswhor3, @wildestdreamers-tv, @faefaes-world, @hahahafucku, @delusional-13s-blog

#george weasley smut #george weasley x you #george weasley x y/n #george wealsey x reader #george weasley one shot #george weasley fanfic #george weasley #fred weasley #weasley twins #weasley #harry potter one shot #harry potter fanfic #harry potter smut #hp fanfic #hp fandom #part three

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the-cookie-of-doom · 6 months

Text

"I don't want to talk about this." Kim doesn't have anyone he can talk to about this.

Porsche takes three shot glasses out from behinds the bar and lines them up. Fills each. "Drink," he orders.

Kim side-eyes the glasses. Looks around the bar; near-empty at this hour.

He drinks, one after the other. It burns going down.

"I'm still not talking about it," he says.

"I know." Porsche pulls a single shot for himself. Kim admires his restraint. Then again, only one of them can afford to get laid out, and Porsche has decided it's going to be Kim.

Kim taps one of the glasses, and Porsche obliges him with two more pours. By the time he sets the second face down on the bar top, he feels it. Warmth in his face and cotton in his head. He can convince himself he's barely tipsy, so long as he doesn't move his head, because then the earth tips out from under him. Tipsy.

"Ready to talk about it?"

"Ask me."

"Are you trying to sleep with my baby brother?"

Kim hums. Shakes his head. Regrets it. "Nope, not ready."

Porsche whistles, impressed, and pours another shot.

"You're going to be so fucked up tomorrow."

The six shots Kim sucked down slam him twenty minutes later. He should have expected it; Porsche probably did, and that's why he's laughing at Kim now, snapping pictures of him slumped over the bar and moaning in misery, offering no comfort. It was Porsche's idea to get him loose-lipped with truth serum in the form of alcohol, but Kim let him do it, so it was his fault, really.

Once Porsche has gotten enough blackmail material to last a lifetime, he closes up the bar, then drags Kim over to a booth so they can talk.

"So. Porchay."

"Porchay," Kim agrees, a lyrical slur into his arms.

"You wanna tell me what's going on there?"

"I like him s'much. He's so, so-mmm, good, he's good, and nice, and..." Kim trails off, mumbling something incoherent. "Kissed him."

"What?"

"I kissed him. On his face. I missed. He smells s'good. I wanna kiss 'im again."

Porsche laughs. "Are you trying to sleep with him?"

"Mmmno. Maybe?" Kim tries to push himself upright, and only manages to slump enough enough that he can side-eye Porsche as he says, "Dunno how."

"What?"

"Are you gonna be mad?"

"Probably not. What do you mean, you don't know how?" Kim makes a miserable sound. His eyes are fever-bright, and his cheeks are flushed, and Porsche is pretty sure it's not just from the alcohol. Kim buries his face back in his arms to hide. "Kim, are you-?"

"No." He waves a hand at Porsche. "Kinda."

"Kinda."

"You know."

Porsche does know, but he a mean part of him wants to make Kim say it, because he's an asshole, and bullying little brothers is what he does. He's definitely not going to bully Chay about this, his poor brother would die. So he can harass his own boyfriend's younger brother instead. He relents, though, because Kim looks all kinds of pitiful and sad when he next surfaces from the sanctuary of his arms. Scratch that, he looks distressed.

"I think I want to, I do, I want it - but I haven't - and Chay - I don't want to - what if I'm not-"

"Take a deep breath, kiddo." Kim does. "What, you're afraid of disappointing him?" A small nod, and Kim looks so young, and nervous, that it pulls at Porsche's heart. "Aww. You couldn't."

"Yuh-huh," Kim mumbles.

"Nah. Trust me. That kid is so gone on you." This makes Kim smile. Bright and beautiful and bigger than Porsche has ever seen. In person, at least.

"I love him so much."

"Yeah?" Porsche knows for a fact that Kim has not told Chay as much. He already knows how smitten Kim is, and has for a while - it's why they're having this conversation at all, because Kim is over his head in love, and doesn't know what to do about it, and God forbid he talk about it sober - but the confirmation is nice to hear.

"I gotta - gotta tell him." Kim squirms around until he successfully gets his phone out of his pocket, pushing at the buttons on his lock screen in an unsuccessful attempt to open it. Porsche careful reaches across and take it from him.

"Hey, no, absolutely not. The first time Chay hears that from you is not going to be in the middle of your drunken ranting. He deserves better than that."

Doesn't mean he won't want to know about it later, though, which is why Porsche has had his phone on and recording this entire exchange. He'll save it for their wedding.

"I'll write him a song," Kim declares. "I'll write so many songs, a whole album. all about him, I'll-I'll-" He seemingly loses his train of thought, patting around the table like he's looking for something. Probably a pen. Porsche helpfully hands him one, and Kim latches onto it, scribbling lyrics into a napkin. Porsche can't wait to see what he comes up with later.

"Why haven't you talked to him?" Porsche gently prompts, interrupting his creative flow. He's pretty sure whatever lyrics Kim is coming up with right now are nonsensical anyway.

"Afraid."

"Oh what? Of him rejecting you? Because that's impossible."

Kim shakes his head, looks like he's about to throw up, manages not to. "The other thing."

"What other thing?"

"Him wanting me." Except Chay does want Kim, and Kim has to know it. He's not blind. Porsche tells him as much, and Kim shakes his head, says, "He thinks so, because he doesn't have me. But if he does, and he doesn't want me anymore, because I don't, I don't..."

Porsche thinks Kim might say, I don't know how to be loved, and it breaks his heart. He slides around the booth so he can pull Kim into his side, and tries not to react when Kim bursts into tears. He didn't know Kim knew how to cry.

"Chay's so good, he's everything, and I'm not, I'm not, I don't-"

"Hey, hey, stop that. Calm down, it's okay, you're okay. Come on, what's all this?" Porsche ruffles his hair and laughs. "You're Wik! You're Khimhan Theerapanyakul.

Kim wheezes, "Not good," and Porsche crushes him in a one-armed hug that Kim doesn't even try to fight.

"Good enough for my little brother. Kay? Trust me, I'm the expert, and I'm giving you my blessing. So pull yourself together."

"Nnng?"

"Yeah, idiot, I'm giving you my permission to defile Chay."

"I wanna hold his hand and kiss his cheek and take him on a date. A real date. Imma get him flowers. What kind of flowers does he like?"

"He's allergic."

"Oh."

"But you can still do the other stuff."

"Oh." Another brilliant smile. "Yay."

"But before that..." Porsche waits for Kim to put it together, but he doesn't, blinking up at Porsche with his big brown eyes and waiting for direction. Porsche finishes the thought. "You have to talk to him first."

"Oh. Not yay."

"Hey, at least you already know what the answer's gonna be." Porsche cuffs his shoulder. "Do it for Chay, so you can have all that filthy hand-holding and cheek kisses and dates."

The next day greets Kim with the worst hangover he's had in his life, his body violently rejecting every ounce of alcohol he forced into it. When he can stop throwing up long enough to string together a coherent thought, he texts Porsche to inform him he's the worst person alive, his ideas are horrible, Kim is never trusting him again, and he's going to kill him the next time he sees him, just for good measure. His body hurts in ways he didn't know were possible, and it's Porsche's fault, and vengeance will be had. Just as soon as he can walk again.

Drink plenty of fluids! Porsche cheerfully replies. And don't forget to talk to Chay. Or else I'm sending him the video of you last night.

Well.

Fuck.

#cookie writes #kimchay #this is so stupid #but I love the idea that Kim really DOES want to talk but he CANT #physically CAN NOT #so Porsche is like hey what if we get you drunk #and Kim is like bet #anyway #Kim goes to see Chay the next day and he looks like a wet cat #Porsche is like are you really going to confess to him like this?#Kim is like you don't get to judge when this is literally your fault #it's a good thing Chay likes cats #i'm exhausted I'm going to bed now lmao

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annaxbree · 4 days

Text

talk back (pt 2)

nate doe x reader

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol

previous part

"a few people" was their answer when i asked how big of a gathering this would be.

the triplets had just hit another milestone in their career, which called for a celebration.

and while the get-together was limited to close friends, it was still more than a few people.

and, of course, they had invited him to the celebration. why wouldn't they ? nate is their best friend, after all.

despite this fact, i was still surprised to see him walk through the door with that annoying smirk planted on his face.

he looked good, i'd never tell him that though.

his head turned in my direction, but before we could make eye contact i moved my head to face the direction nick was sitting.

"im getting a drink" i whispered, standing up from the couch. nick only nodded, already engrossed in conversation with a friend.

i let out a sigh as i made a beeline towards the table that was littered with drinks, i guess they planned on getting a little drunk tonight.

before i could even pick out what drink i wanted, i felt his breath on my neck.

his hand found its way to the small of my back while he reached around me to grab a cup.

instead of doing so, however, he craned his neck downward to look at me. his face was mere inches away from my own.

"so do you just never know what you want to drink, then, princess?" he asked, his breath tickling my face. "or did you need my help again?"

i watched his lips move while he talked, caught in a daze as i thought about the way they felt against mine.

it took me a minute to snap out of it, but when i finally did i was quick to make a comeback.

" i never asked for your help in the first place" i spoke.

"so you're just standing here looking around for no reason?"

"i got here like four seconds before you did" i deadpanned.

"yeah, it seemed like you were running away from me. you scared of something?"

"yeah, that massive forehead"

before he could say anything back, he was interrupted by the voice of nick.

"of course you two are here together" nick spoke. "the hell is that supposed to mean?" i asked.

"all i'm saying is you two have a tendency to disappear together at parties. what were you two doing in the bathroom together, anyway?"

"oh, i'd actually love to talk about this right now, but i'm pretty sure i hear chris calling me" he spoke as he backed away slowly.

before anyone could stop him, he was already gone.

"do you hear that? i think i hear madi calling me" i spoke, poking my thumb in the opposite direction.

"yeah, nice try"

"are you kidding me? nate just did the exact same thing" i pointed out.

"yeah, well nate doesn't owe me an explanation. you do"

"ok, fine. we just spent time in the bathroom...but nothing happened" i spoke.

"spent time in the bathroom doing what?"

"you know....talking"

"girl, you're not fooling anybody...especially not me"

"we kissed..."

"....for 10 minutes?"

"what, did you time it? "

"no, bitch, it was an educated guess"

"ok... so, we kissed for 10 minutes" i spoke with a shrug.

"and why are you just telling me this now?" he asked.

" 'cause i regret it, and it never should have happened in the first place"

"nick!" madi yelled from across the room, "come over here! matt and chris want pictures!"

while nick walked away from me, nate walked towards me. instead of stopping, however, he grabbed my arm and pulled me around the corner wordlessly.

he pushed me against the wall, caging me in with his arms.

"that's funny, didn't seem like you regretted it when you were moaning my name" he rasped.

"what are you talking about?" i asked.

"don't act like you didn't just tell nick you regretted it"

"how do you know i was talking about you"

"who else would you be talking about?"

"well, why would you assume you're the only guy i'm talking to?"

"am i?"

"that really doesn't concern you"

"what if i want it to?"

"what if you shut up and kiss me?"

"you know for someone who claims they don't want me, you're pretty needy"

"if you don't want to kiss me, i'll go find someone who will"

"shut up" he spoke before leaning down and closing the gap between us.

tag list: taglist: @creamoncreamoncream2 @freshloveforthefit @patscorner @sturniolosmind @sturniolosloves

#nathan doe fic #nate doe fanfic #nathan doe x you #nathan doe x reader #nate doe x you #nate doe x reader #nathan doe imagine #nate doe fic #nate doe imagine #nathan doe #nate doe

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anzulvr · 4 months

Note

idrk how to request— BUT WHAT ABT READER AS HIS SPARRING PARTNER ?? above average strength but obv he would win though he ended up hurting u, what do u think would he do? LIKE DOES HE DISREGARD THE FACT THAT THEY'RE IN PHYSICAL ED AND JUST CARRY HER AND THEN WHOO—

Summary: Karma × Reader getting hurt while sparring// fluff 🎀// I luv him pls sorry this took so long it deleted 😭😭

❝ sect. 01 pre fight ❞

— There weren’t many reasons you got paired up with Karma in to begin with,

One: you begged Karasuma- (he said no)

Two: Korosensei pulled strings for you, only because you're his favorite couple. (You’re literally the only official couple in class so he doesn’t have many options to choose from but still.)

You were so sick of Karma going easy on you. You're just as capable as anyone else in class, sure you came into eclass with zero fighting experience but you've been progressing over time. Even then, he didn’t budge on his stance on not wanting to throw hits the times you were paired up.

Karma wasn't one to underestimate people, anyone who wanted a good fight could get one- he'll even offer them a head start but you're a different story.

He wouldn’t lay a finger on you even for class, wouldn't that make him a shitty boyfriend?

Anytime you spare he guides your hand, takes your hits and high-fives you if you do it right, he does anything but retaliate.

So much so Karasuma refuses to pair you up together because the most Karma will do is dodge.

Luckily today Korosensei managed to convince him.

You spend half the class time begging Karma to just throw a jab swearing up and down you could take it.

"You nearly broke Nagisas nose but you can't hit me once? I'm asking you it's fine!"

"That's different, that's Nagisa, you're you."

he dodges as you swing your anti-koro knife

"So what?! Are you saying Nagisa can take it but I can't?"

"[Name] you know that's not what I'm saying. I just mean I can cope with giving Nagisa a nose bleed, I don't want to hurt you."

you swing again, this time getting the side of his torso

Karma grabs your fist and yanks you towards himself

“Got you.” He sticks his tongue out

"Im not saying you have to go ballistic— I'm just saying you can put up more of a fight."

"Alright fine, but if you feel like I’m being too rough tell me to stop.”

“Deal!”

❝ sect. 02 aftermath❞

— You should've kept your end of the deal but you didn't say anything cause he’d feel bad. The pain all over your leg and thigh was killing you.

He hadn’t even hit you — he kept tripping you over and over again, in his mind it was pretty harmless but enough of a jab to keep you happy except it wasn’t harmless you kept biting your tongue every time you fell on a rock and it burned even harder than the last time.

He didn't notice until you struggled to stand up and he saw blood trickling down your leg, he crouched down to where you were at in an instant.

"[Name]..! Why didn’t you say anything— , are you okay?"

"I didn't want you to regret sparring me! It's fine it's not bad just a little blood, plus I got you a few times too.”

"I’m so stupid. Sorry [Name], can you stand?”

Your leg was fine it was more of a big scrape that worsened each time you fell on something sharp and didn’t tell him, disinfecting it and wrapping it up would fix it.

He pulls you up from your hand, "I'm pretty sure Korosensei has the shed packed with medical supplies let's go there."

Karma’s willing to carry you on his back if you want him to.

❝ sect. 03 at the shed❞

— He has you sit on a stool inside the shed while he looks for bandages, "Towels... paper... Korosensei's weird stash of Magazines... where the hell are the bandage wraps?!"

You point behind him "Karma isn't that a first aid kit?"

"Oh yeah- good job [name]! Wait let me take a picture of his stash to blackmail him with first"

(He has his priorities straight)

He quickly takes a picture of Korosensei's pile of Magazines and returns to the issue at hand. He gently cleans your wounds and wraps them, something he's done plenty of times for himself, not much of a difference.

You swing your other leg, "this is kinda weird… I'm usually the one doing this for you."

He smiles for a moment "I thought the same thing!"

Once you’re leg is all wrapped up he asks you to stand up to see how everything felt.

“Thought of how I can make it up to you yet?”

"It’s not a big thing! Plus this is the first time I've gotten injured in a fight so I feel pretty cool.."

"Pffft yeah?, you look cool too— imagine the crazy stories you can make up when people ask how you got that."

"Im gonna tell people I survived a lion attack."

"Sounds good, I'll tell people I saw it go down so it's more credible."

With one hand still on your bandages he kisses you and for a moment you forget where you’re supposed to be, he pulls back and laughs for a second.

“Ditching class to kiss a guy [name]? Wouldn’t expect that from you.”

“We’re not ditching- and you initiated it, let’s go before Korosensei finds us and lectures us again.” You shivered at the thought.

When you come back to class Korosensei was frantically looking for you.

“Karasuma told me he looked away for a second and you too were gone! I looked everywhere- where were you?!"

Funnily enough Korosensei looked everywhere except the shed he was so worried he forgot to check the area yet flew internationally 10 times.

"We went to look in the shed for medical supplies."

"The shed of course! Why didn't I think of that... anyway I'm glad you're alright, what happened to your leg [Name]?"

"A lion... it's alright I took care of it."

"A lion..?"

"Yeah- you should've seen her teach, she won a fist-fight with a huge lion, all by herself."

Korosensei’s face flashes green “full points!”

He didn’t actually believe that but from the look on his face he got the hint Karma was the one who took care of your injury and that’s all that mattered to him.

a/n sorry if this is bad😭, tell me if there’s any spelling mistakes pls !! And sorry for the late post :)

#ansatsu kyoushitsu #karma x reader #assassination classroom x reader #karma akabane x reader #akabane karma x reader #assassination classroom #karma akabane #reader x karma

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freyyzu · 1 year

Note

i do not know if you are taking requests or not ,, so im sorry for requesting if you are not and just ignore this please 😭💗💗💗

but if you are,,is it possible to have the demon brothers finding a breath taking sculpture of them in mcs room made by their hands ( sculptors are just *chefs kiss* ) maybe the bros weren't sure about confessing but this was the final straw?

SCULPTURES

There's a sculpture sitting on your desk and it looks an awful lot like him.

a/n; sorry this took me ages anon, i have no excuse aksjdh though, i was unsatisfied with how i wrote this so i had to restart like four times...

Lucifer is taken aback

throughout all his years of living he’s seen many portraits and sculptures of the like that try to replicate his beauty. many failed, many succeeded, and he can say for certain as he looks at the one atop your desk right now, that you have succeeded.

maybe it’s the lovesick part of him talking, perhaps he was just in awe at how incredibly skilled you are at your hobby, but there’s no denying the fact that his heartbeat has sped up and that he was more entranced by your work of him than he ever has been with the delicately crafted portraits from the celestial realm.

lucifer had always been on the fence about his feelings. he had many responsibilities under his belt, and there were other factors at play — excuses, every single one of them. perhaps finding your sculpture was just the thing he needed as the final push to tell you how he feels already.

Mammon feels his brain stop working

as soon as he spots the sculpture of him just plainly in the middle of your desk he gets mildly annoyed. of course he knew you were working on something, but never did he think it was going to be him.

it’s pretty. he’s never been a person to really care for the fine arts but when it’s of him, and when it was carefully and so meticulously crafted by you of all people, he can’t help but admire it more. a part of him wonders why you didn’t just ask for him to be your model — it’s literally his job! and then it hits him.

he’s a mess for the next couple days every time he runs into you. his ears are red, and he stutters over the most basic of words until eventually he just lets it out that he had found your sculpture of him when he came to visit and it was making him embarrassed because he’s been in love with you for so long and now you just had to go and make it worse. don’t tell him you left it out on purpose, he’s sure to blow a fuse.

Leviathan near breaks it

it wasn’t on purpose! and he catches it just as it’s about to fall, so crisis avoided! but now there’s another problem, and that’s him. him - who is so red in the face he fears he might actually explode within the next few seconds.

levi’s love for figurines is practically unmatched, meaning when he found out about your skills he was over the moon in learning more about it, maybe commission something from you… but he certainly didn’t expect you to sculpt him of all people! he carefully places the stone back on the table exactly where he finds it and scampers out of your room faster than one could blink.

don’t come into his room for the next year, normie! he means it! because if you come in then he’s going to for sure say something he’ll regret if you don’t feel the same way. maybe… you should help him a little bit with that?

Satan is at a loss for words

there are a number of things that he could say right now to vocalize his amazement at your skill and how deeply touched he feels, but all the words that he wants to say seemingly die in his throat.

he can’t help but admire your work forlonger than necessary, the fear that you might come back and see that he had found your work be damned. in fact, he would prefer that you came back in at that moment so he could tell you straight away what amazing work you’ve done.

he grabs your hand the next time you have alone time together. a smile graces his lips, casually brining up just how you really outdid yourself this time with your new piece. the flush that paints your cheeks is enough to make him spill his feelings right then and there.

Asmodeus can’t help but swoon

the curl of his bangs, the length of his nails, the flutter of his lashes — somehow you’ve managed to capture it all in your sculpture. he can’t even imagine how much time and effort (not to mention skill) this must have taken you, and he wants nothing more than to tell you just how fantastic of a job you’ve done!

it was entirely accidental that he had seen the sculpture, but then again it was hard to miss when it was just smack in the middle of your desk. with his curiosity piqued, asmo gives it a glance and immediately gasps upon seeing a beautifully constructed pose of him carved out in stone.

he doesn’t hide the fact that he saw your ‘little’ project at all. the next time you’re in your room he barges in with glee to smother you with appreciation, his confession spilling out the middle of it all. would you like to get a live look at all the features you couldn’t craft by memory? he’ll let you see those and more if you’re up for it.

Beelzebub thought you got it commissioned

unlike the rest of the brothers, he doesn’t come into your room often without permission, and unless you mention that you have a hobby in sculpting it doesn’t cross his mind at all that you’re the person who crafted it. it’s only when he sees the tools neatly tucked away in a corner does it really settle in that you’re the artist.

art isn’t something that has a place in beel’s heart, but even he can admire how much time you’ve put into this. there were days where you hadn’t shown up on time for breakfast and other times where you completely skipped dinner. He was worried about whether or not you were getting enough energy, but at least now he knew the reason behind it all.

his confession is purely accidental. he finds you the next day to tell you he hopes that now that you’re done with your sculpture that you’ll stop skipping meals. he likes you too much to see you possibly faint because of him. oh, and of course he appreciates that you care for him so much you would even sculpt him! it was really well done.

Belphegor thinks his eyes are deceiving him

he comes by your room practically every other day for a nap when the attic just isn’t doing it anymore, so how had he never noticed that you were making something like this?

his finger traces the grooves of the structure, admiring how there were no nicks or rough areas, all while trying to wrap his head around that fact that it was really him. it takes him a bit to remember you could come back any time now, so he makes himself comfortable on your bed as he always does.

when you do come back to your room a while later he invites you to cuddle like he hadn’t just walked in to the surprise you were planning to give him. that doesn’t matter though, if you want to sculpt him more after this he’s all the more willing to let you as long as you tell him why you picked him of all people. he thinks the look that crosses your face is adorable.

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morallyinept · 7 months

Text

The Pit - An Ezra One Shot

^ Sound on 🔊

Summary: Ezra and you stumble into an ominous pit on a prospecting mission for coveted azure diamonds on the Narillan moon, and find more than you bargain for.

Pairing: Ezra x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.)

Word Count: 11.9k 👀 'Issa long one!

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here

Explicit - DARK-ISH themes/kinks/smut. Possibly an attempt at macabre/gore type horror? Ezra being a roguish douche (but that’s why we love ‘im). Tentacles. Lots of tentacles. Sex/Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Oral/insertion/pregnancy/birthing some weird stuff/alien life forms/interspecies intercourse/some mild dubcon/anal/slight hints of cannibalism, because at this point, why not? 🥴 And some other fucked up shit that my brain rot conjured up. Did I mention the abundance of tentacles?

Sci-Fi/Horror-esque. There’s some plot in there somewhere, I swear to Kevva.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: Had this idea slithering around the ol’ noggin. Figured Ezra would be down because he’s fancy like that.

I am well aware that this won't be for everyone. If it's not for you, that's absolutely fine. Just quietly slip out. No need to make a fuss.

I'll have more Ezra that's coming soon, in different varieties/genres.

I'm pretty happy with the way Ezra talks in a manner befitting for him in this. I took my own advice. But I'll let you guys be the judge of that. Let me know if I captured him.

Enjoy! 🖤

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

“... Blasted, shit-eating things, channel rats. Did I regale you with the time my crew and I were subject to an unfettered infestation?”

Ezra prattles on ahead of you, further up the caverns, the light from his helmet casting an eerie glow about the dark boulder formations.

As far out as he is ahead of you, stepping oafishly over a knuckle of rocks, his voice is sound and droning inside your ear and there is no way to drown him out. Unless you garrotte him, of course.

Now, there’s a thought.

“Yes,” you sigh wearily. “I’ve heard all about the fucking channel rats.” Clubbing him to death with a rock sure sounded like a mighty fine idea about now.

You’re blinded by a small, white light flickering into the back of your retinas when he stops and turns to look back at you.

“Irritation becomes you, Birdie.” Ezra observes with a breathy gruff. It sounds like the crash of the ocean on Lau inside your ear. "Still captivating though."

You're beyond irritated having had the misfortune of listening to him rabble non-stop on this Kevva forsaken journey into the back end of the universe’s rectum it feels like. One that you’re beginning to regret inherently.

“We’re lost, Ezra. We’ve been lost for hours now. I thought you said you knew-”

“-Know these caves like the back of my right paw, yes. That is what I confirmed.” He offers a crooked smile as he waves his stump at you as you catch up to him. "Well, that's not at all disconcerting now is it?" He teases as the place where his right hand should be is filled with an obvious emptiness.

He frowns when you fail to laugh. “I may have offered you a partial truth. But I'm fairly certain I can navigate us to the root of our coveted gain unscathed.” He adds.

“Fairly?”

“It’s a diminutive guarantee.” Ezra affirms with a serious face. “Although, if I’m to be completely notwithstanding, Narilla is a place I’ve not set foot on before myself. But I've conversed greatly with those who have.”

“Fucking great.” You gripe as you reach him.

Your hair sticks to your face with sweat inside your helmet and it irks you that you can’t simply wipe it away as it catches on your lip tiresomely.

Traipsing around this dank, humid cave system on the forgotten moon of Narilla, with the wily and grossly unpredictable prospector as your guide, is not exactly the mission you'd envisioned when he’d lured you in over strong stout on Puggart Bench of such a daunting, yet rewarding charge.

You’d sat bemused, a few tables away with your scuff booted feet up eavesdropping, as you nursed your own beer, at vicarious tales of skulduggery and betrayal - his own included.

His aquiline face was well known around these putrid parts. As much as you’d love to avoid a feculent swamp like this on The Pug, populated with unsavoury characters in their swarms, it was a necessary evil to hear of good places to prospect now they’d closed up the Bakhroma route for good.

Kevva knows that prospectors could pilfer and loot better than anyone in The Fringe, and your own talents attested to this. Ezra too, had garnered himself an erudite reputation, even if marred in deceit, and a small fortune to retire from past ills that haunted the creases around his sullen eyes.

But yet he was still greedy for more as he bewitched you with promises of riches that would weigh down your pockets despite the preposterousness of it all. Such is the nature of a prospector; their greed knows no bounds. Cannot be satiated. And he could certainly talk the alluring talk, that was for sure.

Something more had drawn you in though; something about his Southern loquacious snap in which he weaved the threads of the fable about his eventful escape from the green moon of Bahkroma; an arm lost to it as well as some semblance of sanity it appeared.

He spoke through glassy, dark eyes, wide with tenacity, sluiced with the oncoming inertia from the hops and grains, and his story pulled a crowd of fellow miners and prospectors keen to hear the anecdotes pouring from his foam drenched moustache, as ludicrous as they were.

Most dismissed it as the drunken ramblings of a mad man quacking into his drink; scarred by his time on the haunting moon and her secrets, and perhaps it did drive him crazy to some extent.

However, Ezra rambled on animatedly about plentiful azure diamonds to anyone that would listen that were hidden in the caves under the frozen surface of Narilla. His story was backed up by those who had heard their own quips. Someone who knew someone who had garnered the moon's wealth for themselves, it was all the same spiel.

Like the twinkle in his eye, you simply couldn’t resist the temptation of their siren call and offered yourself up to accompany him on the collection of such rare, precious gems - Kevva knows the fortune was needed on your part - when a scant few turned away unconvinced. Gems that would fetch much more than Aurelac on the black market anyhow.

Whilst some of the gnarly men expressed their keen interest, Ezra denied them, setting his deep eyes on you.

I require a right-hand… woman, Ezra had stated, looking you up and down with something else inside of his vortex gaze as he supped at the foam from his weighty glass.

He’d shooed away the other potential partners in favour of you and your shapely form that he drank in as much as the beer.

You’d discussed with him the terms and your share of the haul, insisted on absolutely no impropriety, (for which you fell short on later that evening) and here you both were now, docked and stationed on the frozen moon and wandering around the intestines of the caves listening to him harp on about everything and nothing, and all that was gassy air in between.

Your teeth ache from all the grinding.

“Can you attach a slurry? I'm irrevocably parched, pet.” Ezra asks you, panting a little. There's condensation frosting around the rim of his helmet and sweat beads glistening on his forehead.

"I'm not your pet."

"Merely a term of endearment. An otherwise befitting compliment may be too fruitful to assume your acceptance into anything more than acquaintance." He shrugs.

"You assume much." Sighing, you busy yourself with the idle task as you attach the pack to the back of his cargo belt and cap it into the feeding tube for him.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” You query, checking your chronometer and scanning the vast dark abyss that presents itself to you.

The green icons and symbols are blurring faintly through the invisible static, fading like emerald apparitions.

Back on the lander, the static interfered with everything as soon as you entered the atmosphere, and it only unnerved you that, if things should go awry, you would be out here by yourselves.

“Shouldn’t be much further ahead, I’d wager.” Ezra breathes around his straw inside his helmet. He licks his lips as he watches your scornful look tossed back at him. He simply offers you a knowing smirk.

“Lead the way,” you instruct with a knitted brow.

You follow him further into the breach of the dark; the strobes from your mutual head lamps making eerie patterns on the rock walls that claw and silently growl as they come to life like shadow puppets.

A while later Ezra stops dead in his tracks, raising his singular left hand. You hadn’t noticed he’d stopped; too occupied with convincing yourself that you weren’t seeing ominous things slithering around in the shadows.

You walk right into the back of him; your helmet bonking against the back of his. You utter some annoyed profanity that fuzzes into his ear piece.

“Kevva! What's that smell?” You question, wrinkling your nose as it seeps through your respirator. It smells like tar, coating the back of your throat in its thickness like amber tobacco as you inhale.

Ezra studies the wall beside him carefully, noticing the ominous sheen and runs his gloved hand through the goop that coats it.

“The stench emanates from this peculiar secretion.” He pries apart his velvet fingers and the sticky substance is stringy between the fibres. He lances you a look with keening eyes.

Your mind is flooded with skewbald images of your cunt slick beading over his lips, making them shine up at you as your thighs cushion either side of his head. Your groans, his lavacious grunts, batter around the back of your skull and leave broken contusions.

The shiny strings snapping on his gloves serve as a harsh reminder, which you're certain he's recalling in all it's sordid vividity too. Your pussy certainly is as it clenches involuntarily.

“Gross.” You declare as he tries to stifle a wolfish grin at your reaction.

“We push on, Birdie.” Ezra announces, wiping the slime down on the thigh of his olive flight suit.

“Stop calling me that.” You mutter, following behind.

“Well, you won’t tell me your name so I have to call you something.”

“No names.” You remind him.

“I recounted mine freely.”

“No names.” You confirm.

"Kevva's sake, you are stubborn as you are loathsome, woman." He mutters.

“That’s not what you said the other night." You smirk.

"I divulged a lot of soundbites that eve." Ezra can still hear the sounds you made around him, not put off by his apparent incapacitation. “As did you. But yet a mere name seems implausible.”

"Do you ever shut up?"

Ezra thought for a moment then smirked brazenly. "Only when a succulent quim takes throne on my face."

You roll your eyes. "Look, we get the diamonds, we leave and I don’t have to suffer your intolerable, repetitive anecdotes ever again. My name is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things." You growl, sucking your bottom lip into your teeth.

You can hear him chuckling away in your ear piece with a wheezy rasp. “Desperate to be rid of me already? I might flirt with the offended.”

“Pfft. You’ll get over it.” You mirth.

Although a shifty flush creeps insidiously into your already overheated cheeks, as uninvited images of him grunting as you sat on his hawkish face invade your mind like knives at a target board.

He could certainly put that mouth to good use. The thoughts your mind still conjures makes the inside of your helmet stifling.

The smell gets stronger as you meander closer to wherever the heck it is that Ezra is leading you into. A wider cavern opens itself up and you climb upon its slope exercising caution at his instruction to follow.

“One slip and the void will take you,” he warns with a simper rolling around his dry lips.

“Don’t tempt me,” you reply sardonically. You both step slowly and carefully along the ledge as the vertigo sways you towards its jaws. Steadying yourself, you push on behind him.

The tar-like smell intensifies when Ezra announces you’ve both arrived. Although you're hardly impressed - it's just another cavern like the million you’ve already hiked through to get here. You watch as he unclips his helmet spokes and the hiss of his respirator sounds snakelike inside your ear.

“Can we breathe down here?” You question warily at his flippancy.

“Assist me, would you?” He asks as he inhales through a toothy grin, nodding.

Once your own helmet is off, the subtle breeze of clean oxygen hits your face, cooling it. It's incredibly warm down here, considering the moon is in the midst of a deep freeze on the surface.

You watch as Ezra steps forward to another ledge and looks down. “There,” he points.

You step forward yourself and shine a light and are aghast at what you see.

A writhing mass of black, wet tentacles, twisting and undulating in an eerie dance. The glistening surface of each tentacle reflecting an otherworldly sheen, while they move with an unsettling fluidity.

Unfathomable thrumming spirals are spilling out around the pit below the ledge, moving in a coordinated, yet unpredictable manner, in various girths and lengths. Slick as they writhe against one another, pulsing like a singular heartbeat.

“What is that?” You mouth incredulously.

Upon closer inspection, faint iridescent patterns shimmer along the length of the tentacles, creating an illusion of ethereal beauty amidst the stark darkness, like they almost glow in places. The patterns shift and change as the tentacles move.

As the mass undulates gently, it seems to emit a low hum, barely audible, but one that can be felt deep within your chest, resonating with a haunting melody. It's a sound that stirs emotions buried in your subconscious, eliciting a mix of awe and wonder, tinged with an underlying sense of unease as you feel prickles shoot down your spine.

“Our entrance. Hmm. Bigger than I was infromed. No bother. We'll go through it.” Ezra pulls down the zipper of his flight suit and begins shaking it off of his only arm clumsily.

“Wait, what? Through it? What the fuck is it?!” You query, wide-eyed.

The enigmatic display of black, wet tentacles in this mysterious mass is a surreal and haunting sight, one that leaves you captivated by its beauty, while your rational mind reminds you of the depths of the unknown that lie within.

All you can envision is teeth. Sharp, piercing teeth.

“Take your suit off, pet.” He instructs calmly.

“Ezra.” You shake your head concerned.

He rolls his suit over his stump and down to his thermals. “It protects the diamonds. We need to go through it. We’ll pass right through, out to the bottom when they see we're not a threat to them. No harm done.”

“Are you fucking insane?”

“That's yet to be determined officially.” Ezra responds nonchalantly. “Although, I’ve been reassured that this is-”

“Wait, you’re basing this off of hearsay? How do you know that thing won’t fucking eat us?” You're sweating again.

Ezra rolls his suit down to his ankles and begins pulling at the lace of his worn boot. “I don’t.” He simply retorts.

“No.” You shake your head adamantly. “You can go and die if you want. I’ll wait here.” You’d encountered many odd alien-like entities in your time prospecting, but this? This is something else entirely.

You peer carefully over the ledge, seemingly unable to look away at the mass of tentacles that are free of suckers. They're just smooth and slick in their perfection. Lost in the horrific beauty and mystique of the scene, you feel a magnetic pull, as if the mass of tentacles beckons you to join its dance.

A part of you yearns to step closer, to unravel the secrets it holds, and yet another part hesitates, fearing the unknown consequences of such a connection. In the midst of this ghastly display, a heavy feeling of dread envelops you, like an invisible hand tightening around your heart that crushes.

“Nu-uh, Birdie." Ezra warns, darkly. "We go together as agreed upon in our oath. You need to play your part and help me to retrieve the diamonds. Can’t embark on this without you, given my infernal impediment.” Ezra turns to look at you with those muddy eyes, and it's beguiling as it is dangerous.

You stare down at the pit unmoving.

"No harm will come to you under my watch." He reassures, but it fails.

"Don't make promises you can't keep."

He simply offers you a small smile. "Can but wait, Birdie. Let's get a leg on."

“I must be fucking insane…” You mutter, shaking your head. Sighing, you take off your own suit and strip down to your undergarments.

“Good girl,” you hear him say.

You catch Ezra glancing at your bare legs as you're dressed in nothing short of flimsy shorts and a thin camisole that barely covers your modesty under your thermals.

His own undergarments are a frayed t-shirt and some fusty long johns that sit awkwardly under the small paunch of his soft belly.

But he seems to pull them off as your own eyes sway towards the memory of his body on the fraying futon as it writhed and shuddered whilst you sucked down the swell of his cock, back in his dingy bunk apartment nestled in the Noki District on The Pug.

For a man of his advancing years, you think him to be attractive in a roguish kind of way; a scummy diamond in the rough. Scummy enough to have let him eat you out, anyway.

Breathing calmly - or at least trying to - you sit beside him on the edge of the pit staring down at the glistening appendages that swam in a hypnotic pulse against one another.

The sounds of their wet slick can be heard as they slide and pass over one another in heaving waves; a wet shine evident on their alien corium that glimmers at you.

You’re not sure why you're doing it, but you reach forward instinctively and feel the skin of one as you run your palm over it gently, awed by the sensation that leaves prickles flooding down your spinal cord.

The electricity creeps up each nodule and into the bottom of your neck. It feels comforting, soothing as the previous hesitation you felt is washed away in a calming opacity that soon melts your eyelids shut.

The tentacle arches up into your palm, bumping it benignly as its secretions coat your skin with a cooling, thin substance that feels miry as it greets you.

As you attempt to retreat, the allure of the scene grips you, holding you in a trance-like state, unable to tear your eyes away from the eldritch horror that unfolds before you. It's as if the entity, sensing your fear, seeks to draw you deeper into its realm, to become a part of its ancient enigma. To whisper it's secrets in your ear.

The luminescence now reveals disturbing images etched into the tentacles' surface - visions of cosmic terrors, nightmarish landscapes, and grotesque creatures. Each tentacle seems to bear the collective knowledge of the horrors of the universe, driving you to the edges of precarious sanity.

A cacophony of unnerving sounds emanates from the mass - the raspy whispers, unnerving wails, and an ominous heartbeat that seems to reverberate through your own veins. The dread within you intensifies, and an overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia engulfs you as it reaches its zenith; as if the darkness itself is closing in on you, and it has snapping jaws.

“Birdie,” you can hear Ezra bleed into your ominous tranquillity, but he sounds so far away. Like his voice is at the bottom of a metal wire, sounding tinny and ruptured.

The sudden panic in his voice shakes your foundations leaving you unsteady. But it's not him making you sway as you open your eyes to see yourself falling, face first.

You’re tethered by the tentacles wrapping around your ankles and wrists and pulling you forward into the mass of them.

“Ezra!” You gasp trying to repel them as they reach for you, but the combined strength of the slithering organs is undeniable.

You're both immobilised as you're dragged down into the pit. Ezra disappears first; the whites of his wide eyes are the last thing you see before you're blinded by the black.

The stickiness coats your face, your eyelids. It slicks through your hair; a clear, thin mucus that smells like musky, rich leather and allows you to move freely through the tentacles as you descend further.

"Birdie!" You hear Ezra call out to you and you call back frantically. "Just relax, it will pass you right through."

"Relax?!" You splutter when you feel the prevalent tightening around your waist. It's too tight as it starts to bind and crush against your pelvis.

"Trust me!" He calls again. Oh, if it were that simple, you snarl to yourself.

You try to calm yourself, relax as he so eloquently puts it. But it’s hard; the panic seeds and flowers in you and the coil only tightens under your rib cage in response. It knows your fear.

As it embraces you, tentacles wrapping around every limb and numbing them out, you feel the weightlessness of your body as it travels to the back of your cranium and ignites. You can't see anything, just the never ending void of black that hurts your eyes to try and strain them to reach beyond it.

A sense of foreboding lingers, as if a malevolent entity from the mass of tentacles watches from the shadows; its sinister presence ever-present in the periphery of your senses.

As you sink through the darkness, the very air seems heavy with an oppressive weight, and the pulsing surroundings of the tentacles appear distorted, as if the boundaries between reality and the unknown have blurred.

Each sound in the darkness makes you jump, fearing that some other force might be lurking too close.

A small glimmer fizzes somewhere in the distance, blink and you’d miss it. Purple, maybe blue flashes that spark through a plasma network of neuron pathways that fire and snap ahead. A brain that grows in size and expands. A dying star implodes and blinds you for a moment.

You gasp out in awe and are then fully weightless; floating in the violet nebula that’s haunting in its brilliance, its swirling tendrils stretching across the cosmic canvas like an ethereal tapestry.

As you gaze at the purple nebula, a sense of calm washes over you, momentarily easing the fear and tension that had consumed your senses previously.

The swirling clouds of gas and dust seem to dance with grace, performing an elegant ballet that holds you in rapt attention. You forget everything, you forget it all.

You can't feel your limbs, you can't feel the weight of your bones or the blood in your organs. You can't smell or taste. You're deafened by bubonic silence save for the heavy whooshes of your own breath inside your ear canal.

And then the nebula shrinks, collapsing upon itself into two tiny balls of light that morph and shape into eyeballs with irises the colour of those tasteless Bitz Bars you’d endured on lengthy missions.

The eyes stare at you, they see into you; unblinking and you can feel them rifle around inside the deepest trenches of your mind, picking and rummaging with spidery fingers. And you can only let them as they see all of your sordid secrets and lay them out like sharp medical instruments.

Then thin, wiry nerves root and track from behind them; a skull forms around the eyeballs. Muscles and viscera wrap and coil around a skeleton as the skin grows over it like fungi and tans in colour.

Ezra is before you; naked and plump in his lower belly fat and a thick, flaccid cock hangs between his legs. He’s staring back and floating like you are in this chaotically still space. His stump bears no scars, just perfectly smooth, taut skin around the missing bone like marble.

You can only watch as his cock stiffens and begins to drip mercury. You’re not sure where it comes from, maybe something in the stratosphere, maybe something in your core, but the overwhelming feeling of desire bubbles and courses through your veins making them burn under your skin.

You feel the tentacles again, pulsing and vibrating around you.

There is no other sensation except the feeling of his only arm pulling you towards him and then his lips are crushing against your own, smothering.

You're not repulsed as you taste him; his invading tongue filling your mouth and sliding down your throat that opens willingly for him.

You let him in, you want him to be inside you like this, even though somewhere inside of you, your voice is shrieking and howling at you to resist the ratty bastard. It’s a need that requires satiation.

Any resistance is smothered by the heat between your legs; the wetness that leaks from your swollen cunt lips and mashing into the meat of your thighs as you squeeze them together deliciously to equally appease and chase that desire.

You feel his ever-growing tongue reaching into the back of your oesophagus and expanding; sliding deep down into your guts as you choke and splutter around it as it restricts your airway.

Breathing through your nose is impossible as it fills with the sticky mucus that attaches to the fine cilia suffocating you further.

You try to resist now, to pull away but your limbs still won't work. Your fingers won’t cooperate. You can't feel them. All you can feel is Ezra invading your body through your mouth and licking out every crevice of it with his elongated tongue.

You can feel the cramping in your stomach as he prods around down in there, pushing against your muscles and fat; crushing your offals and lapping at your stomach acids.

You want to scream so badly, but all that comes out around his tongue is moans of abject satisfaction. Your own voice, your own sounds are so alien to your ears. You're enjoying this and you want more, so much more from him.

You feel your mouth fill from your gullet upwards; something warm rising up from the back of your throat from around his tongue as it floods you. Its viscosity bubbles and pools out the side of your lips and down your chin.

Ezra pulls back and you see it; his tongue now black and shiny and no longer pink and fleshy - or human. The flippering tentacle disappears back into his smiling mouth as you gasp for air.

You cough up a thick, white substance that projectiles from you, choking you as you heave it out down your chest.

Somewhere, you know this taste; familiar from your own experiences of swallowing unworthy men’s loads on your knees as they ejaculated into your eager mouth on lonely nights around The Pug.

Somewhere through the heady confusion, you know this is wrong on so many levels as you belch and splutter through bringing up the seminal pearl flow in droves.

A subtle yet unsettling change occurs. The glistening black, wet tentacles from the malevolent mass re-emerge in the scene, twisting and snaking their way into the cosmic display as you splutter.

At first, the juxtaposition of the tentacles against the cosmic backdrop seems incongruous, like an intrusion of darkness into the splendour of the nebula.

However, as you watch, you begin to sense a strange harmony between the two that bleeds into your skin.

The tentacles are back around your body, cinching and curling around your waist, clamping around your wrists. You feel the alluring tickle of something travelling up your thigh and your eyes widen.

“Ezra… It’s-it’s-” you stutter as you feel it snake up your inner thigh and under the hem of your shorts.

“Let us in, Birdie. It’ll feel so good.” Ezra drenches the promise inside your ear, licking and sucking the shell of it. His fingers skim your clit, furrowing inside your shorts and opening your lips for the tentacle to slip fully inside, filling you up. “We’ll make you feel so good.”

You cry out as it slides in, slippery and thick. It stretches you wide, a slight burn from the jarring friction that soon settles into undulating pleasure.

It shouldn’t feel like this, it shouldn’t feel so… good.

You feel a mix of emotions - fascination, fear, and an inexplicable sense of reverence - as you feel it penetrate you deeply. The tentacles, once harbingers of horror, now evoke a different kind of awe.

“Fuck, it feels so good...” You chime falling backwards into the universe.

“Mmm, there you go,” Ezra smiles and you feel his fingers slipping quicker over your engorged clit making you flinch and breathe out dust each time he flicks it. “Let us fuck you, little bird. We’re one now.”

You can hear Ezra; the haunting groans and gasps fill your ears like lead. It’s everywhere around you, echoing and you can’t escape the sounds of his pleasure on loop as you’re fucked by the rogue tentacle stretching you out the further it whelves inside of you.

You can see yourself, devoured by the coils slipping all over your skin; watching yourself get dicked by this entity that knows what you want, knows how to pleasure you like no man could.

Your pussy welcomes the deep thrusts it gives you and you writhe and moan, losing your eyesight. The features on your face dissolve away leaving you a faceless putty for them to remould and sculpt, and you twist and bend to their will.

You’re lost to it; succumbed fully by an invading desire and heat, and the sounds of Ezra’s grunting hammering inside your ears as it rocks through the nebula; a big bang of grunts and heady snarls that rip through the very seam of existence.

But when you finally open your eyes as they grow back into your sockets, he’s no longer there.

All you can see is the nebula again. All you can feel is the fullness between your thighs; the never-ending release it offers as it pumps you full of its seed. The nebula winks back at you and pulses around the edges.

You feel the bunching behind your stomach walls, the fluttering of your pussy spasming and squeezing as you’re pulled apart and smashed back together again, at one with the cosmos.

You cry out; you can see your voice as it shatters into metallic fragments and rains chrome glitter all over you that coats and nicks your throat.

Your gasps birth new stars from your mouth as they find their place in the dust and gases that swirl around your body, completely obliterating it.

And when it’s come and gone, the waves settling as you fall still from the exhausting aftermath, there’s nothing once more; just the never-ending expanse of black.

You breathe out through soaked trembles, and just as he advised, the grip falters and you descend again slowly through the pulsating coils that slide sticky against your face and gums.

You drop and land clumsily onto something solid; the hard, real ground. Your tailbone hits it first and you wince.

Your fingers shakily register the feel of something you recognise and yet it doesn’t seem entirely real as you scrape your brittle nails into the rock beneath your face to be sure.

But your cunt is still contracting; squeezing around a vacant space where you were sure you were penetrated and filled by something thick and binding, and oh so fucking good.

Something that felt indescribable and you mourn its loss irrevocably.

You eye him carefully as he looks back at you with a singular outstretched palm laced with blisters and callouses lanced towards your face.

Ezra helps you up onto jellified legs and above you the tentacles writhe a lowly metre or so above your heads in a hypnotic dance that seems to defy and mock gravity.

Ezra reaches up, his only hand brushing against the swell of the membranes that roll and curl tightly around one another.

"Curious…" He mumbles as the slick glides effortlessly through his calloused fingers; a cosmic ballet of twisting and pulsing.

“What is it?” You ask, dumbfounded and awed.

Your voice doesn't register as your own. You feel like you’ve been swamped in a heavy sleep, plagued by dreams of untold, lucid delights that you can still feel throbbing on your clit.

You’re unsure if it really happened or not and try to shake the delusion, yet you feel yourself pining for it.

You peer at Ezra carefully, looking for any sign that he endured a similar experience, and yet his face is as unreadable in its mischievousness and stoniness as usual.

Your skin feels wet and sticky, your mouth remembers the taste, and his body mirrors your own, coated in the shiny lacquer from passing through the tar coils. His hair is slicked back and darker, almost black, save for the white patch that is stark in its platinum yellow glow; a tiny sun being swallowed in a sea of putrid oily tufts.

The undergarments cling to his skin, saturated and binding and making no attempt to hide the swell of his cock inside of them.

As he glances at you with an astonished smirk, you feel something pull tight in your abdomen; a distant hunger gnawing at the edges of rationality and the sense that you’re unable to get a firm grip on reality anymore.

“A cephalopod of some origin, or many. I've heard tales of Krakens before, but not like this.” Ezra admires bewitchingly as he strokes above him. “It feels…” He closes his eyes and you watch him rise on his tiptoes with a small smile blooming over his mouth. “Sentient.” He concludes through a nasally breath lost inside his thick drawl.

He drops his hand slowly as a lone tentacle feeds down from the others in front of him. You watch rooted as it rubs itself across his broad chest and slithers around him. It runs between his thighs and he moans as it brushes against his cock.

"Uh, this one seems incredibly obliging," Ezra exclaims as he glances at you with astonished mirth bleeding into his ratchet peepers.

You watch it disappear down inside the back of his long johns.

He groans out, his body jars forward but he doesn’t fall; the tentacles have him secured by his arm and back as he becomes weightless in front of you.

“Ezra,” you start forward to assist him, but are stopped when he hisses out, baring his teeth.

He loses his eyes as they roll back into his skull.

“Fuh-uck,” he whines loosely as though his teeth are no longer in his mouth, and you realise you’ve heard this sound before; the sounds of pleasure bursting through the cavity of his chest into your ears.

The same noises he made under you on The Pug with mouthfuls of your seeping cunt.

The tentacle penetrates him and you're drawn into the vortex of his mouth pulling your eyes from their trenches to drink their jelly. You can only watch, body pulsing, skin fraying, as it fucks him right in front of you.

"Kevva, that's deep," he groans, with a blissed out smile.

Then you feel it; it's warm as it glides over your navel and across your skin leaving a moist, sluggish trail. The tentacles bring you together, cocooning you both as Ezra pulls you towards his chest.

And you're not resisting again, instead letting him welcome you into his one-armed embrace.

His body feels good against yours, too good. Like the slats in your rib cages were meant to interlock.

It seems as if he can hear your thoughts and you watch as he opens his chest from the centre; fingers ripping through flesh as he pries open his bony cage and welcomes you into the balloons of his lungs.

Your nose wanders and inhales through his papery bronchioles; they dust into your face like fluffy dandelion seeds and float into the ether.

"Need you inside of me," you groan to him as if in a trance as his sticky heart jostles against your lips as it beats.

You lick across it, sucking on a throbbing ventricle delicately as his blood coays your teeth, and he whines out louder as he ejaculates into his long johns.

“I already am,” Ezra grunts, eyes rolling to the back of his skull again like loose marbles as the crest of his hips buck forward.

You pull back to see him whole once more and glance at the huge, black shape filling you up, fucking into you.

His own cock is hard and weeping pearly globules of come as it rubs against the tentacle with fantastic friction. Your fingers peel him apart; stripping him down to the hard, muscled core of his dick, and he writhes and groans under your touch as you obliterate him.

You look back at his face and he’s swallowing down a thick tentacle inside of his plush mouth before yours is invaded again by the wet velvet.

He fills your holes, all of them. You can feel him stretch out your pussy, sliding in and out with his thick appendage that makes you buck uncontrollably. He feels so plentiful and thick. He slips into the tight crevice of your ass, filling and stretching you wholly and he's inside your mouth; feeling him graze at the back of your throat as he thrusts and chokes you.

He's everywhere, and yet Ezra pulls you close into his scarred chest again whilst he himself is filled in every orifice he possesses and it's still not enough.

He wants to climb inside your skin. You know it, because it's exactly what you want. It’s what you crave. To rest in the sponge of his brain.

You can hear him insipidly rambles to you all the ways in which he wants to devour you for eternity.

His whines set your skin alight; the oil burning you up as it sears and chokes you. That tar-like smell wafting around you both as it smokes you out and leaves you breathless.

“I can see it,” he mutters, but it doesn't come from his mouth, no that’s full of the pulsing thick membrane that fucks him like they fuck you.

Instead, you can see his voice, moving across the nebula as he sings on music scales, lighting up the treble clefs with supernovas.

“Can you see it, Birdie?” He asks you, each red giant twinkling with his din and tone before it dies, and you can. In their dance, the tentacles reveal a deeper truth - that even the most terrifying entities can be transformed by the beauty and wonder of the cosmos.

They are a reminder that in the vastness of the universe, there is a balance between darkness and light, chaos and order, horror and beauty and you understand that now as you approach another climax.

“It’s so fucking beautiful.” You gasp, tears filling your eyes.

You arch your back; your spine cracks through each vertebrae as they pulverise into dust and you collapse in on yourself, boneless and spent once more.

You can feel it and it feels exhilarating to die and be reborn over and over.

You gush around the tentacle and onto Ezra’s soft stomach swell as you come unrestrained, and for what feels like for infinity.

You’ve never fully understood the meaning of the word euphoria until now.

Soon Ezra lets go of you; his own body arching grotesquely and crushing inwardly. His mouth opens as the tentacle ejects, spewing out thick, creamy liquid in a silent scream as he rolls back into the mass of pulsing coils to be devoured all over again.

He twists and turns and you see his left hand come down his shoulder, tugging at the skin below his blade that houses his clipped stump.

Then another hand, and another; more human hands that are his own with the thumb on the left side and all with the tiny bullseye tattoo inked and faded on the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger.

His various left hands are pulling the skin open so you can see his spine through the tears. Small, onyx tendrils move under the bones and he bleeds out that thick, seminal fluid between his contracting muscles.

Ezra removes his skin like removing a sweater and you scream into the void.

Birdie.

You hear him through the sludgy goop inside your ears; a faint rumble of your body as you are gently shaken awake by thick fingers pulling you out of inertia.

You're on the ground again and the pit of writhing tentacles is still a dark swarm threatening to rain upon your heads. You stare at it, watching it pulse and simper. Trying to understand its secrets, its desires.

Trying to detest it with every fibre of your being but not quite managing to.

There's a chasm where that feeling should be.

Ezra's worrisome face pulls your senses towards him and you clutch onto his arm, reassuring yourself that he's real. Real muscle and bone.

You flinch when you think you see something move under his skin, but it’s just his vein as he tenses.

"What did you see?" He asks you darkly. His eyes are as black as the darkest corners of the universe.

"See?" You ponder it dumbly for a moment as it all floods back to you.

“You were screaming.” He explains.

"I... I'm not sure." You mumble.

"I've deduced that this creature can telepathically link itself to our minds in a mere quest of bewitchment. It can show us our wildest, unarmed desires, or toss us into a gully of the most sordid nightmares." His eyes have shifted into something that you’ve never seen on his face since meeting him - fear.

"What did you see?” You prompt him instead, sitting up. Your head feels like it’s been split into two and neither of your brains can comprehend this scenario fully.

His eyes drop to you and he helps you to your feet clamping his singular hand around your elbow as he yanks.

"Felt so real," he utters through a clenched mouth. Or surreal. You're not quite sure what he says as your face draws up to his.

He glances at you and touches your cheek, cupping it gently. You feel the thick pad of his thumb pull on your bottom lip as he admires the wet, pink flesh of your gums with some irreverent hunger.

"So real." He repeats with darker, hooded eyes.

"Ezra," you steer, peeling his fingers delicately from your skin, despite them soldering into your flesh, and he seems to snap out of it.

He recoils back as though he has been stung. "We need to find a way to leverage our exit." He announces flatly.

"What about the diamonds?" You rub at your arms and they don’t feel like they are attached to you anymore. Neither do your legs and it takes you a moment to realise you are standing freely on them.

"They don't appear to be harbouring any gems down here. I fear we may have been taken in by a ruse." He scowls bitterly.

"You mean you were." You mutter. “I just stupidly came along.”

Ezra sighs loudly and sharply and steps forward craning his head up to the tentacles. He mutters something that you don’t quite catch.

"You're expecting them to give us a ride?" You scoff at him.

"Do you have a more eloquent stratagem? I'm all ears."

"Yes. I'm not going in there again." You say with an inherent coldness prickling at your skin. But yet it’s still hot and dense between your legs.

"Tell me woman, what's rattled you with the visions they gave you?"

"It doesn't matter," you say, turning away from him.

Although you’re not entirely sure if they were just visions. You search along the sharp rocky walls and follow them round with your eyes and there is no obvious sign for escape.

The only way out is back up through them. If they will allow you to leave, that is. The thought makes you cold.

“Birdie, I…” Ezra starts and pauses for a moment. “I know this outcome isn’t what we forecast when this expedition matriculated between us.”

“You think?”

“But I must riposte, that we need to find a way out and the only one presented to us is from whence we came. So if you would find it in you to trust me, then I believe I can lead us out of here fully intact.”

“Trust you, you say?” You snort flippantly.

“Yes. A big ask, I am well aware of its weight.” He scowls at you this time.

“We did things.” You breathe. "You and I, we... copulated."

The words roll off your tongue and you want to shove them back into your mouth and suck the fat from them, but he’s already heard them and is mentally clipping them apart in his bank of memories to keep the best of them - the most sordid.

“I remember vividly our foreplay on The Pug, but you insisted on no penetration and I kept my word. I may not be a gentleman, but I'm no cavalier scoundrel."

"Yes, I know-"

"-Was a satisfaction garnered for us both as I recall. No-one has ever... ” His head snaps towards you with intrigue. "Are you keen to indulge the liasion?"

“No. I mean... Here. That’s what I saw. We didn't just play this time. Us. It’s what I-”

“Felt.” Ezra finishes for you and you nod as you realise that’s what he felt too. His cock, still tenting against his undergarments, reassures you of that.

“And then we were apart. Like, pulled apart from the insides. I watched you remove your skin. Was it real or did we dream it or…? Kevva, I have no idea what is fucking real or not right now.” You mutter, running your hand through your damp, disgusting hair.

“Did you hit your peaks of satisfaction?” Ezra asks.

"What?"

"Did you come, pet?"

Your cheeks feel hot and you fold your arms sighing. “Yes.” Your stomach pulls tight and it makes you grit your teeth.

“As did I.” He admits freely. "Felt like I couldn't stop. It was kinda nice. Tingly."

He closes his eyes and you watch as his free hand drifts down his sternum and palms his cock over the wet fabric with a soft squeeze, clearly not deterred by your presence.

“It wasn’t you. I mean you weren’t inside me, but you were all the same. It’s confusing. What does it want?” You ask looking up at the swell that seems to hum again. Your palm is running gentle circles against your gut that feels hot.

“I don’t believe it wants anything insidious. It just feels and thrives like we do. It has cravings.” Ezra explains, wandering closer under the centre of it.

You shudder and ponder the creation of such an organism, that you summarise mentally and agree, is not too dissimilar from yourself or Ezra. It exists in the most basic of forms, to feed, to fornicate, to-

You feel a sharp twinge in your lower belly and groan.

“You creamy?” Ezra asks.

“Yeah just… Aaargh!” You hiss and double over clutching your stomach. Horrific cramping churns inside of you and you watch aghast as watery blood trickles down your thighs and legs.

“Ezra!” You shriek hysterically, but he’s wrenched away from your aid as the tentacles swoop down and grab you up in their clutches.

His frantic voice is drowned out as the black takes you again.

This place is too bright.

It glitters and glares at you in a striking cobalt like you’ve never seen before. It takes a while for your eyes to adjust but when they do, you find yourself sprawled on a never-ending bed of sharp diamond pieces.

Millions of them are scattered over the ground, around your feet; cutting into your buttocks and back as you’re spread over them like you’ve been dumped in here carelessly.

They’re protruding out of the rock walls and you can see them sparkle above you, twinkling like distant stars through a kaleidoscopic blue galaxy.

Your fingers rifle through them and clutch them, squeezing the shards. You watch as your skin is pierced and bleeds, yet you feel no physical pain.

The beauty stuns you for a moment and you forget your predicament for a while as you just marvel in the perplexity.

But you’re soon shoved back into it when you feel the cramps twist up your cervix and you scream out in agony.

“Ssh, it’ll soon be over, dove.” You hear Ezra’s soothing drawl and see a million of his hawkish faces in every facet gleaming at you.

He crunches over the diamonds as he walks, bare feet bleeding and he’s naked. Cock lithe and hard, dripping with a pearly secretion you long to drink from.

He no longer has a stump where his right arm should be, but a long thick tentacle that pulses and squirms excitedly as he strides towards you.

He crouches down at your feet, parting your thighs and runs his tongue up the sweaty streaks of them.

“Ezra, what the fuck is happening?” You gasp and grunt through a fierce contraction. Your insides feel like they’re ripping open and your cervix tightens in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Hush now. You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.” He runs his tongue over the bubbly seam of your dilated cunt and sucks upon your clit hungrily for a beat, pulling a convulsion out of you. “Play your part, Birdie.”

You hum out, head lolling backwards as you can’t help but succumb to the intense sucking on your bud from his lips.

“We knew you’d taste so good.” He whines and the thick black of his arm scales your throat and wraps itself around you, choking you as you gasp.

You cry out as another contraction bears down on your uterus and you can feel a heavy rush followed by a saturated squelch.

Ezra draws back and watches keenly as you birth the pupate azure eggs planted inside you. You scream through it; the agony makes your cunt and womb feel like they’re on fire and he coaxes you through it, lapping up the amniotic fluid each time you disembogue it out.

Sparkling diamonds fall from your hole and Ezra leads you into a jubilant climax as he sucks on your clit and furrows his fingers inside to help pull them out.

The diamonds shatter as the tiny organisms inside birth and slither away into the walls; the glittery shells they leave behind are your trophy.

You watch, astonished and soaked in sweat, as they vacate the discarded diamonds to join the mass of tentacles where they’ll grow and eventually breed another like you who should be so gluttonous as to seek their treasure.

You give it what it wants and we can have what we want.

An exchange. A life cycle. A quid pro quo.

Play your part, Birdie.

“Mmmaaaah!”

Your attention is diverted by Ezra pulling another orgasm from you into his mouth. Then, he’s climbing up your body like an arachnid. His tentacle arm slithers behind you and he spreads you open with his thick cock.

He brutally fucks your spent, stretched hole; his seed soothes the pain, numbs it out almost like a leeches bite.

You cling onto him as he grunts and wheezes inside of your ear.

“You did so good for us, Birdie.” He praises and you can’t help but smile and welcome him in fully as he drills so deep inside of you that you can feel the tip slither out of your mouth between your teeth and into his as he kisses you; becoming an entwined ouroboros of unrelenting pleasure.

It feels like it will never stop as his hips crack and hammer into yours, and you pass out, weighted down by exhaustion of all extremes.

Puggart Bench, 4 cycles ago...

“I feel some convival attraction to you, despite my infructuous emancipation of it.” Ezra says as he sups at his glass of golden suds. "Your pluckiness appeals to my better nature, Birdie."

"That's the beer talking." You smirk.

He eyes you with a slightly arched brow and wet pink lips. The foam of his beer drags along his moustache and you watch him lick it clean with a quick flick of his tongue. "A siren, no doubt... I'll willingly drown in you."

"Stop with the sweet talk, prospector and get to the point." You mirth. Although his carnal wooing leaves sweat beading on your skin.

“You understand the objective?”

You nod. “Seems simple enough.”

You’d discussed it at length despite the slight buzz you’d gotten from the beer intake, and yet the plan came together without as much input from yourself. He knew the route, he knew the place. He knew where the diamonds were.

And he did all the damn talking.

All you had to do was assist him with the manual labour of it all, as he put it. Mine and prospect. Fly you both in and out too. An extra pair of hands where he only had half.

But it seemed a little too good to be true and you went to question him further when you felt someone knock into your chair from behind.

A wayward hand was felt trying to cup your breast and you grabbed it and squeezed it in a tight crush.

“I’d rethink that, friend. Unless you still want this hand to jerk you off tonight?” You spoke over your shoulder to the drunk assailant trying to grab at you.

He dribbled something shy of an apology onto your shoulder and you let him go, not before removing the ring on his middle finger that encased a shiny, expensive looking gem. Might fetch some credits for your inconvenience.

“Fiery one, aren’t you?” Ezra mused as he observed the whole thing.

“Just another night in this squalor. I can hold my own.” You replied, stuffing the ring in your pocket.

"Good. I require you strong. You play your part, Birdie. I'll see that you're rewarded handsomely for it."

"You speak as if mining diamonds is a dangerous art. It isn’t. I’m fairly astute in the work of dirty hands."

"These aren't just ordinary diamonds to cut your teeth on." He leaned in, placing the glass down on the table with a heavy thud.

You could smell the stink of the alcohol on his breath and that putrid musk of sweat wafting from him, mixed in with something else sweet and foreboding.

He smelled like death - sweet, alluring death.

His scruff was oily and scattered across his ageing, tan skin and throat, and his dark brown eyes bore into your own for a few moments, contemplating.

Ezra ran his hand around his grazed chin, rubbing at the stubble there now peppered with scabs and grey whiskers as he mulled over the thoughts about you accompanying him in his mind.

Black gunk was embedded in his nail beds. His hand was large for his frame, like a great big shovel for a palm; one that could crush a human skull with little effort, you thought. Once armed with two, you could only speculate as to what vile menace those hands could have caused.

“Where do you come from?” You ask him curiously as you sup. That stark blonde streak at his hairline catches the light and looks like it shimmers at you with tempting promises and false conviction.

Ezra looks up at you from his position at the table and smirks. “Where do you come from?” He challenges back.

He looks at you with a haggard expression that is unchanging. It begins to creep you out a little bit the more you see it, making prickles rise on the back of your neck. He suddenly has a way of making you feel nervous for no reason at all.

And men usually don’t make you feel nervous.

You draw back with a contemplative hiss. “The less we know about each other, the better.” You taunt. “No names, for instance.”

He's already haunting your blood as you feel it warm under your skin, and the slick bubble of sweat upon the back of your neck makes its presence known.

“Why the ambiguity?” He questions with a glass stare. "My name is Ezra." He casually tosses his name in front of you on the table, expecting you to return.

But you don't.

You're feeling prickles run all over your skin. You just want to wash him away with the grime and murk that coats his breath.

A spooky, amaranthine being regarding you from opposite the table and he smirks crookedly again through those swollen lips, pursed out, yet remains tight-lipped. You wonder what they taste like.

You wonder whether his foreskin his clipped, what his come tastes like.

“Getting cosy isn’t my style, Ezra.” You mutter, gulping back more foam and blinking the wanton haze away.

“Well regardless, what a delightful romp it would be to charter to Narilla with you, pet. I’m in if you’re in.” Ezra says after some time of eyeing you.

“I’m in,” you agree, sealing your fate. “Although, wouldn’t you rather have some strong muscle to offer us some leverage in case things go awry? There’s plenty of dick-for-brains to choose from.” You glance around the bar at the crass prospectors and miners in all their lunkhead glory.

“Nothing will go awry.” Ezra shakes his head. He clears his throat. “You’ll do just fine. You're Kevva sent for it.”

You feel his eyes drink you in as they wander over your body and you consider for a moment if you’ll end up back at his place tonight riding his face.

The idea isn’t as heinous as you’d like.

“A quick expedition then.” You confirm.

“That it is. We needn’t linger on the moon in the throes of a harsh winter.” His eyes dart away as though recalling something execrable as he struggles to swallow his beer. “In and out.” Ezra clarifies. "It'll be over quickly."

You nod once in agreement.

“There is a price for what you seek, prospectors. Especially you, girlie.” A foreign voice comes from beside you on the adjacent table.

A man with one eye glares under the shroud of his hood at you. A horrific scar as deep as a magenta trench replaces his other eye. Encrusted with old yellow skin like scales that were in various decays of flaking.

“Balderdash and frivolous superstition.” Ezra simply rebuts and knocks back the remnants of the amber beer down his throat.

“What do you mean, a price?” You query with a lazy smirk over your own numb lips to the creepy eavesdropper.

“He means nothing. Just trying to rile you, Birdie, is all. Come on now, we’ll drink some more. I insist. Celebrate our impending agreement.”

"Are you trying to get me drunk?" You muse.

"Why? Is it working? Am I attractive enough to you yet that you'll let me…" he looks up and down your body and licks his lips. "Indulge?"

"You're so presumptuous, Ezra" You smirk. "Maybe I'll be the one to indulge."

Ezra sways you up towards the bar with him and you think no more of it.

Later, you do indeed indulge, and ride hard on his hawkish face as he makes you come hard through juddery breaths as he fucks you with his serpent tongue relentlessly.

You can feel that heady pull on your clit as he sucks out your pleasure greedily in droves whilst you fist through his greasy hair in rapture as you grind your cunt against the furry graze of his chin.

As you suspected you would.

But now, that odd stranger is here, in the diamond pit with you; staring you down with his singular ragged eye watching as the glory of Ezra buries himself inside of you, and that man is whispering to you and now you know.

He was right, there was a price for Narilla’s diamonds.

You know everything now.

“You knew, didn’t you?” You question Ezra as his silhouette fuzzes into clarity.

The look on his face tells you all you need to know.

Of course he did. It all makes sense now.

“It’s why you favoured me over the other miners to accompany you; because I have a fucking womb!” You spit. "This was my part to play, wasn't it?"

You throw the diamonds you’d been holding at him, and he flinches as they pelt at his feet; his coveted prize.

“Birdie-” He holds up his palm, open in surrender.

“Don’t. Fucking. Call. Me. That!” You launch yourself at him and you both clatter to the stony ground.

You claw at him, aiming for his bastard face, but his free hand captures your fist. He clamps his legs around you to stop you gaining height over him and rolls, pinning you beneath him with ease.

For a man with one arm, he's still incredibly strong and slippery.

“No harm done.” Ezra sneers as you falter; his grip on your wrist flexing it backward a little until you feel a subtle crack and you hiss. “You fulfilled your part, yes. That is true. You got yourself remunerated. We’re free to depart now. It’s how this arrangement works.” He says, darkly.

“I should kill you, you piece of shit!" You seethe at him.

He looks offended. “Now, now. You weren’t saying that earlier when I was buried deep in the hilt of you.” He smirks sinisterly.

“You weren’t,” you shake him off and he rolls onto his back and snickers though rasps. “It wasn’t real.” You affirm, sitting up and flexing your wrist.

"Are you sure?" He questions you smugly.

"No. It was just-" You shake your head.

“Real enough for you to gestate and birth its offspring in droves.” Ezra reminds you.

“You want to lose your other fucking arm?” You warn through a snarl.

He sighs, the smirk dying. “You can’t simply procure the diamonds; you have to replenish your fill. They won’t let you leave if you just take from them. You have to have something to offer in return.” His eyes fall on your body, hungrily. “As I man, I can’t replenish. But you can.”

“You're not a man, you’re a fucking insect!” You rile.

“If I had delineated you the truth, you would never have accompanied me on this treacherous quest.” Ezra mutters, annoyed with clicked lips. “You were an unwitting comrade in my mournful web of deceit, I admit. I'm the arachnid, and you the fly..."

"Fuck you."

He snickers breathily. "I harbour no ill will towards you. You’re quite amiable despite your folly. I would have never let any permanent detriment come to you, Bir-.” He stops short of the moniker as he witnesses your stony glare.

“That’s fucking noble of you.” You growl.

“You’re still alive, yes? All supple appendages intact?”

You glare at him some more.

“Then we completed our charge fully unscathed and significantly richer for it.” Ezra simply says with a casual shrug of indifference.

You really want to punch him and feel his large nose shatter under your knuckles.

“What we possess now is incredibly rare. So few venture here because of the down payment required. You'll be a queen among mere men. You should think yourself fortunate.” He puts, examining one of the diamond shards carefully.

“Tell that to my insides!" You snap. You can still feel the ache; the rawness from the unexpected birth.

"It's what your glorious body was made for. To bear the fruit of life, is it not?"

"That," you point towards the swarming cluster "is not fucking fruit, Ezra!"

Ezra sighs and reaches for you gingerly. "I am burdened with my part in this. I am a host to belligerent shame. Honesty is a skill I do not possess in its entirety. But you and I, we make a damn hoot of a team."

"The prospector and her pimp!" You scoff.

"I'll make it right, if you’ll permit me?"

His deep, brown eyes bore into you and you feel something wobble inside you.

“I meant it when I said I liked you, pet. That clandestine night on The Pug with you? Kevva, it replays in my mind and won't let me have no peace. Your cunt stink is still all up in my sheets." He licks his lips, sucking on the bottom and recalling your taste for a beat with a satisfied murmur - a groan that your skin ignites to in response.

"Who would desire me like this now aside from the whores on Luxillion who take my credits and don't remember my name? They just remember this..." Ezra glances down at his missing appendage.

"I ponder if it was pity on your part, and I would not linger in offense if it was, but regardless, it was something. To me. And I do not take the pleasure you offered me so freely, and with an inkling of that desire for yours truly returned, lightly and with regret." He finishes.

You sigh and shake your head, unable to ignore fully the fizzing inside your veins as he says it, how earnest he suddenly appears.

Despite yourself, that night with him was indeed... something.

There was something so deliciously unkempt about him. Frivolous around the seedy murk. Something that your better nature repelled against, and yet caved to all the same.

“How the fuck do we get out of here?” You groan, looking up at the swarm of tentacles engulfing the only means of escape.

You're not sure if you can take another mind fucking, or a physical one. But your pussy clenches and it zaps on your clit regardless.

“The way we came in, I have already iterated that escape route to you, despite your reluctance to partake. It seems appeased, I think. Satiated. Might pass us up without further incident.”

"Well, I guess we have no choice." You utter.

Ezra gathers the diamonds and shoves them into his wet pockets until they bulge. He looks at you forlornly. “Thank you,” he notes.

You soften despite yourself. “Hold my hand this time. I don’t want to be separated from you and left behind now you’ve gotten what you wanted. I would expect no less from you.”

You can feel it on your skin. The dread. The desire the pit had for you. The fact that, despite his slimy betrayal, you still feel it burn in your core when he smiles crookedly at you.

"I would gladly leave these treasures here, if it meant not taking you with me." He says through molten brown eyes.

"You're so full of shit." You sigh, smirking.

Ezra reaches out with a timid grin of his own and you step forward, interlocking your fingers tightly in his.

“That's as may be, but I won’t let go.” He promises and you believe him as his thumb strokes over the ridge of your knuckles.

You feel his sincerity crush the bones in your hand.

“Once we get out of here, I think I never want to see your face again.” You warn him, but you can feel that your resolve already has cracks in it as you offer him a small, twinkly smile.

“That might be difficult…” Ezra holds up your interlocked hands and they are no longer hands in a muscled knot.

Instead, they are a singular arm that starts from your shoulder and ends at the ball joint on his. The skin is perfectly smooth and there is no separation on where you begin and Ezra ends.

“What the fuck?” You gasp.

“Embrace it, Birdie. It’s the only way we’re getting out.” Ezra smirks. "One last hurrah." He laughs and his breath suddenly smells like the dead Trogs on Ajaxia, as you inhale it into your stomach where it soils and grows roots.

You feel your toes leave the ground as the tentacles lift you upwards. Your joint appendage with Ezra stretches as you feel them try to separate you both.

Somewhere under the muscles and sinew, you grip onto him and he grips you back just as hard.

The nebula rises above you both and you cover your eyes with your free arm as it swells in intensity and size.

Your hand is pulled out of his from under the skin, like taking off a glove and Ezra desperately pulls you into his lap. You wrap your legs around his waist tightly locking you in and he grunts at the welcome intrusion from the crest of your pelvis crushed against his own.

"Not letting you go," he assures. Or warns. They sound one in the same.

His free fingers now push into your skull, sinking into the soft jellied mass of your brain and your own hands grip onto his shoulders, sinking into the bone beneath his flesh.

They slide in so easily, like fluid and you gasp out as he fills your cunt; that pulsing cock free from his undergarments and pumping his spend liberally into you and doesn’t stop. It floods your pussy, leaking out around his fat shaft and dripping down your thighs in thick globules.

“You taste so good, Birdie.” Ezra rasps and his voice is sulfuric. “We could devour you for eternity.”

He pulls back and his mouth is full of your milky flesh; your blood pooling from the corner of his lips and you hear his molars crunch through your bone fragments.

“Stay,” he wheezes. “Stay with us here and let us live inside you.” He pleads as he takes another bite, consuming you whole; his cock thrusting deeper into you and you groan and wail as he drowns you.

You can feel it filling you, that thick seminal fluid pouring from your ears, your nostrils and your eyes.

You're slipping, fading.

You want to stay but you know you should be somewhere else. Somewhere you’re not sure is real and you only dreamed of it.

But the nebula… it’s so fucking beautiful.

To never see it again wrenches your heart. You pluck it from your chest; a mass of sloppy ventricles and offer it out to the amethyst abyss.

You watch as it disintegrates into ash in your palm. You can still feel Ezra filling you, drowning you and you know this is where you belong.

You belong with them; this mass of tentacles that feeds you everything you could only ever imagine and crave. At one with the universe and home inside of the purple nebula that speaks the same language as you and shares a brainstem and-

“Birdie!”

You’re wrenched and you surface; spluttering as your grapple for the ledge with slippery fingers.

Ezra pulls you over, groaning with the strain as you topple onto him and gasp out. The diamonds spill from his pockets around you both and he pants into your face, his own reddening from the exertion.

“I got you,” he says, his face shiny and wet. "Easy now."

Your shaky fingers around the familiarity of his brackish features as you realise you're back on solid ground and out of the pit.

You can feel his chest heave against yours as you're crushed to him; his arm tight against your back.

“You didn’t leave me in there.” You marvel at him with those pink cheeks around his scruff.

“Do you think me completely unscrupulous, woman?” He frowns.

You lean in and kiss him, planting a deep relieved smooch onto his chapped lips and he’s taken by surprise.

You suck on his tongue and your kiss erupts into something unfinished. He groans back into your mouth as you can still feel how hard he is, how he pulses under you with need and it spreads into you.

“So, I assume by this mere token of affection, you no longer wish to gut me?” He gasps around your mouth.

“No, I still very much wish to,” you smile. “But right now, I just want you inside of me, Ezra. Fuck me.”

His grip on you strengthens. “I can certainly oblige to that,” he gruffs. "Seeing as we almost perished today."

"Almost," you growl.

He pushes his head up to kiss you again. He wastes no time and reaches down as you both fumble around your sticky, cloying undergarments.

He shimmies his long johns down his thighs as best as he can, pulling out his turgid cock that's pulsing with need and slippery with pre-cum.

You pull your shorts to the side as you sit down on him, sinking all the way down to his swollen balls.

“Fuck, Birdie... Better than the visions,” he whines, the cords in his neck straining and pupils blown wide. “So tight..." He gasps as you start rocking on him. "Oh, forgive me, pet. I won't last.”

"I don't care." You grunt wanting him and taking him, as you grind your hips back and forth sloppily.

He feels fucking divine; packing you out and stretching you through this frantic, clumsy fuck you’ve instigated, and you deduce you’re probably still out of your mind on whatever it was that had you feverish and delusional in the pit.

But it's of no matter; you’re too riled up to give a damn about anything else other than your release. And you want nothing more than to soak him.

It’s fast approaching as you grind down harder on him. You can feel him in the places where you’re still raw and tight, but you push through it; the pleasure is your driving force and it bubbles under your abdomen muscles and makes your toes spark.

"In Kevva's name, I swear you're magnificent," he rambles, reaching up with his free hand to grope and palm your breast over your camisole. He watches as you slide up and down on his cock, bewildered and in awe as your slick oils up the dark hairs around the base of him.

"Oh shit," he cants.

You suck on his deceitful tongue as you ride him and milk his cock for all it’s worth. Your peak is so close, quick and bursting like colourful strobes under your eyelids as your clit rubs deliciously against his fuzzy groin curls.

Your walls tighten and flutter around his girthy muscle buried to the hilt in you.

“Mmm fuck, Ezra, I’m going to-” You pant.

“Me too, come for me. All over my cock.” He hisses. “Now! Gah, sweet mother of Kevva,” he groans. “Ohshitohshitohshit… oh-oh shit!"

You tense and shake over him like an earthquake; eyes rolling back into your head and fingers digging into his chest meat.

Your thighs smack against the soft paunch of his stomach as you slow your pace and ride it out until the stars dissipate and that purple nebula fades into the black for good.

A small part of you is sad to see it go.

You feel Ezra pulse and fill you with his own warm heat and it spills out of you as you collapse onto his sternum, your cheek sticking to his wet clothed nipple, satiated and exhausted.

You glance at your discarded flight suits, after what feels like an eternity later of just laying stuck to him and listening to his heartbeat ebb, before you’d entered the creature's pit and realise this was all so very warped and that you actually made it out unscathed, like he had said.

Like he'd promised.

You’re still unsure if it all really happened or if your mind is playing tricks on you. All you can remember is the violet beauty and the feeling of being filled so deeply.

You feel his thick fingers run through the oil of your hair gently rousing your focus. "As much as I'd enjoy staying here with you on this idle precipice, it appears we should make haste to depart before anything else untoward occurs."

You nod and glance up at him, placing a gentle kiss on the scarred skin of his stump poking out under his t-shirt, which makes his eyes glisten at you.

You shuffle off of him and reach for your suit, careful not to eye him and a small part of you wanting to forget it all.

But you can’t forget a man like Ezra so easily - he’s furrowed in too deep already; got those grubby, thick fingers embedded deep into your skin and poisoning you with the dirt that constantly lives under his nails.

He bore witness to your ruining down in the pit, your undoing.

He was there with you as your skin was flayed down to the bone. The complete annihilation of your soul as it tarnished before him. He sought to devour the nerves under your flesh, the depraved delights that the pit drew out of you and into his waiting and willing mouth.

He didn't choke on you like you wanted.

Ezra regards you with a shine in his dark, beady eyes and offers you a small, creeping smile which you can’t help but return as you both dress and reattach your helmets.

The diamonds glitter all around your feet and the euphoria of knowing they’re yours is a little overwhelming.

"I would kill for a shower right now." You say as you follow him back the way you came through the internalised cave systems. Your body stills feels sticky and wet under your flight suit.

You hear him guffaw inside your ear. "Is there not a sanitation pod housed on your lander?"

"No," you frown. "Was too expensive to rent one with luxurious amenities."

"A shame." He concurs. "Although, we can bathe in the waters with the nymphs on Luxillion now if we wish."

"Luxillion?" You snort. "Burning a hole in your pocket already?"

"A man can but dream." Ezra husks inside your ear. "What of your ambition, Birdie?"

You shrug. "Haven't really thought about it."

"You can afford to mull it over some." He crackles.

"Yes I can," you smile, realising that both Ezra and you can simply afford anything you want right now. No matter how ludicrous a thing it is that you desire.

Back in the confines of the lander, you take the controls as Ezra tucks your share of the diamonds into your knapsack.

“If you’ve short changed me, I’ll hunt you down, prospector.” You warn him though a short side glare.

“Perhaps I should recount if you make tempting promises such as those, Birdie.” Ezra quips and smiles at you like a dim light bulb before it runs out of juice.

The thrusters roar into life and the lander pod launches into a frosty orbit. The static still blocks everything out as you fly blind up into the ether. The radio comms crackling and tinny in their off-beat drones.

“Don’t call me that,” you simply say; a small smirk of your own breeding across your lips that you lick away.

“Then what do I call you? I wish to let it roll off my tongue when I fuck you some more back on The Pug.” He simply croons.

You scoff. “You’re so presumptuous, Ezra.” You shake your head with a breathy snuffle of a laugh. “Perhaps, I’ll be the one to fuck you."

And the thought makes your clit throb excitedly, despite it's over-stimulated ache.

"I'll ensure you're held to that bold proposition, pet." Ezra simply clicks his tongue around his teeth, the taste of you still in his gum meat somewhere.

"I would expect no less from you." You quip.

You feel his singular hand creep onto your thigh and give it a good gentle squeeze. Instead of being disgusted, you smile and enjoy the pleasure it evokes through your bloodstream as he warms you.

You then surprise him by caving and finally revealing your name, casually letting it flow from your lips as you release the landing gear.

"Well, it's nice to finally meet you." He grins slickly at you in some deft accomplishment. "Wasn't such a hard endeavor now, was it?"

Ezra sits back in the nav seat smirking as you launch fully into The Fringe, leaving the delectable nightmares of Narilla behind you both.

MASTERLIST | EZRA MASTERLIST

I really hope you enjoyed reading this Ezra story of mine. I had a lot of fun writing this and really wanted to challenge myself with this genre. Please let me know your thoughts. I'll be writing more Ezra for sure. 🖤

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