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fanaticsnail · 13 days

Text

You're The Cure

Masterlist Here, Pollen Masterlist here

Word Count: 4,300+

Synopsis: Law bought you a pretty flower from a port, wanting to impress you with it, and perhaps use it as a courting gift should you want him. As the Polar Tang's Herbalist, you know there is more to this flower than meets the eye. Trafalgar Law got more than what he bargained for with this little gift.

Themes: Pollen!Law x afab!reader, dubcon, desperate Law, Smut, mdni, NSFW, 18+ content, solo Law, edging, premature ejaculation, creampie, fluff

Notes: This little fic was brought to you by an incredibly recent ask that took control of my laptop. @sweetly-sicken, thank you for your ask - I hope you enjoy. @sordidmusings, @feral-artistry come get your man. He needs help (and thank you both for your help and your ears today while I wrote it).

Tag List: @sordidmusings @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @feral-artistry @gingernut1314 @vespidphoenix @carrotsunshine @i-am-vita @mfreedomstuff @sexc-snail

Hunched over the desk in the greenhouse aboard the Polar Tang, Trafalgar D Water-Law scrunched his eyes tightly shut and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. His body was alight with a foreign passion he had never seen make it's equal. His clothes scratched and ignited his skin, the material of his heavy jacket weighing down his torso under the thick shroud of gray.

Peeling his hat from his body and tearing at the iron zipper of his coat, his body began moving on instinct alone. His mind was screaming at him for his appalling behavior as his hands scorched hot trails along the glistening skin on his stomach. Sweat poured from his temples, his lips parting and huffing as his hands moved at a will of their own below the waistband of his pants.

As his right hand gripped his achingly hard cock, he viciously began pistonning it within his fist, writhing and thrusting within it to match his brutal pace. His left hand snaked its way up his chest, pinching and circling the peaked bud of his right nipple as he mewled in desperation. He felt the approach of an impending orgasm stampede him towards release, the relief of the finish line almost within sight as he continued abusing his shiny knob and pummeling his shaft.

Just as he felt his body begin to tip its way over the edge, it fell away just as hastily. Panic wrote itself over his face: his eyes wide, his mouth agape with a thin trail saliva trickling down his chin in stringy strands.

“No, no, no, no,” he begged, pleading at his body to respond to the stimuli, picking up the pace and attempted to seek out his impending eruption for the second time, “No-... f-fuck-... Please.”

Choking his shaft, a momentary clarity sifted in his mind as his eyes snapped to the single, innocent, pale flower poking out of an unsuspecting, ceramic pot. The top of the flowers danced within the aura of the puffs of breath he was panting, the yellow hue of pollen tinting the air with a tang on his tongue and a burn in his nose.

“It’s that f-fucking flower, isn't i-it?” he chastised himself in a harsh whisper, laying his right hand flat over the desk as he thrust into his vice-like grip, “F-Fuck, it's the f-flower. Fuck.”

The sweetness of his release was once again in sight as he scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He released his nipple from his fingers, gripping the steel rim of the desk as he continued to writhe into his fist.

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh sh-shit,” he choked on his words, desperately chasing an end that only rewarded him by sprinting away from within his reaching grasp. Again, the panic seared through his mind as he doubled down on his efforts, “No, no, no, no-o!”

Without any further thoughts about his elusive orgasm, he immediately elevated his left hand and splayed out his fingers. He growled out a desperate roar, his ink-tainted digits shaking as he attempted to activate his devil-fruit ability to expel the pollen like a foul demon from claiming his soul.

“R-Room- Ah fuck!” he exclaimed, his body immediately flopping over the desk as his body doubled its efforts against his iron-will. The intensity of the spouted dust increased it's crippling hold over his body, burrowing down deeper into every aspect of his body.

“Sh-Sh-... Sh-...” he arched his back, his brows knit in a tight furrowed concentration. Glancing at the flower once more, a pool of saliva began spilling over his bottom lip as sweat poured from his temple, “Sh-Shambles- AH NO!”

His cock danced with unresolved release, twitching within his fist as the intensity of his desire amplified. The devil-fruit abilities were doused by the fiery spray of the pollen in his respiratory system and blood stream. His body was not responding to his commands to expel it from himself by the supernatural means, nor the natural.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, falling back into the chair behind him and gyrating his hips rhythmically upwards to continue to match the pace of his pistoning fist.

As a final ditch effort to release himself from not only this spell, but to force himself to cum into his fist, he attempted to activate his Haki. Scrunching his eyes shut tightly before opening them once activated, the sparks of energy he intended on seeking fogged his mind with too frantic a stimuli.

Suddenly, he was aware of every white-hot wave of lust coursing through his veins. Everything ignited into a bright wave of light, his eyes not able to adjust to the flashes of the augmented hue. He shook his head, immediately shaking off the use of Haki from his widening eyes.

“H-Help,” he choked out a whimpered whisper, “I n-need help.” He mewled out a keening sob, desperately chasing his high within his right palm. He thrust his left hand into his hair, balling the sweat-damp strands into his fist and cried out for his release.

The bob in his thigh, the lightning bliss within reach again within the coiling band in his abdomen, everything was right there. Right there, until it wasn't.

“C’mon, Law!” He roared at himself, chasing his high. He focussed his ministrations on his frenulum, pinching and flicking his hand over the tight band of flesh, “You can do this. Gotta keep strong for the team. C-Can’t lettem’ know. You're better than th-this.”

He whined as his left hand once again chased the channels of his inked art up his chest, swirling his nipples beneath his calloused fingertips.

“F-fuck, fuck, fuck!” he cried in desperation, his cock refusing to spill over even the smallest amount of precum over the slit, no relief in his release being welcomed into his hand, “Why can't I do this? I-I need-... Shit-... I need-... Mmmfph-... I need help.”

“Anyone seen our captain?” You asked the crew gathered in the communal dining space. Downturned lips, shrugs and soft shakes of the heads from your crewmates unified in their puzzlement.

“Why? What's going on?” Bepo asked, his pale fur reflecting the buzzing illumines of the artificial light.

“Oh, he said he had something for me, is all,” you smiled at Bepo, clapping your hand over his shoulder with a polite smile, “Something about a flower he picked up from that strange port earlier today. Wanted me to have a look, see if I could extract anything of it.”

Bepo let out a small squeak of joy, stifling further joy from fleeing from his lips by clapping his paw over his muzzle. He sought out the corners of your face, gauging your emotions responding to a gift from the captain. You shook your head at the large, fuzzy bear with a small smirk.

“That kinda makes sense,” Penguin smirked up at you, shoveling his food into his lips and chomping down on the crunchy texture, “Seeing as though you're the herbal remedy spooky witch, and all. He's likely in your office, maybe even the greenhouse.”

“Herbalist, Pen,” you corrected him with a soft smirk and the shake of your head, “I didn't go to study permaculture, horticulture, botanical remedies alongside my bloody medical degree for you to refer to me as ‘herbal remedy spooky witch'.”

Cackles erupted from the table around you, your own chuckle joining with the crew as you rose to your feet. Discarding the contents from your tray, you then placed the empty tray atop the metal shelf for the cleaning crew to easily manage.

“Alright, family,” you called to your crewmen with a smile, “I'm off to take a look at that flower. I'll see you all for dinner later.”

“Bye, spooky witch,” Penguin chuckled at you, “Don't forget your broom on the way out.”

“Penguin!” Bepo scolded your hat-wearing crewman, prompting you to laugh in response. Shaking your head, you approached Penguin from behind, leaning down to lean into his ear with utter seriousness.

“Be sure not to test this witch’s patience,” you smirked, purring into his ear in a sultry whisper. Penguin's blood ran cold, feeling the warm heat cascading from your body as your cool breath met with the shell of his ear, “Or I may curse you with something as sinister as impotence.”

You laughed to yourself, turning and exiting the dining room to make your way towards your office. Noticing a dim light beneath the door, you cocked your head to the side as you narrowed your eyes.

A small wave of tinted dust swirled beneath the door, your eyes widening at the hue of the pollen particles. You immediately reached into your boiler suit, seeking out your personal mushi-shell and raising it to your lips.

“Bepo, you there?” You called to your fuzz-covered crewmate, “Important, honey. You there?” your snail jumped, Bepo’s voice expelling from the box with a hasty confirmation of, “I'm here, what's going on?”

“I need you to open the vents in the greenhouse and pump the room with clean air,” you ordered him, reaching for the door of your office and knocking on the cloudy glass of the window.

Rough panting, cursing and growling echoed from a masculine voice from within the room, your heartbeat increasing the longer you were standing outside the door. You had read about this pollen, recognised the hue immediately beneath the crack in the door, and you knew almost exactly what sight was going to meet with your eyes as soon as you turned the door handle.

“Bepo, did you flush the room?” You hastily hissed into the shell, a curt, “yes!” was confirmed in response.

“Good job, sweety,” you praised him, before knitting your brows up in concern with a very cautious question, “Bepo?”

“Yes, Herbalist?” Bepo asked into the shell, “Is there anything else I can do for you? You sound kinda panicked.”

“I just-... I don't know how to put it plainer than this at the moment…” You trailed off, unsure of how to pose this question without further questions being asked of yourself, “...You're the captain's closest confidant, Bepo. Do you know if he's taken a lover aboard the ship? Anyone he fancies that might reciprocate his-... Uhh-... Affections?”

A lull in the crackle prompted your heart to skip a few beats, patiently waiting for Bepo to answer your question. You were likely certain there were a few, including yourself, that took a shine to the broody and serious captain that manned the Heart-Pirates. You were aware of the cure for this disease he'd likely inflicted on himself, truly desiring to give him the treatment he'd actually consent to adhere to.

This was pollen from the pale-lust plant, a plant that only the smallest amount of dust could amplify and magnify the sexual experience of the person who inhales it. It was usually manufactured into perfumes and body oils for those who wanted to ‘spice up’ their love lives. And your Captain had likely doused himself in it.

“I'm not sure if it's my place to say, but from your tone of panic…” the shell muttered in Bepo’s calming cadence after several moments of silence, “...H-He hasn't ever thought about buying anyone aside you a gift at port before. A-And he really thought you'd like that flower he brought back for you.”

“Okay, Bepo,” you managed to choke out a small squeaked order, “I need you to block off all access to the botanical bay for the rest of the day. Captain's orders, okay? You're in charge.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need help-?” He questioned over the shell, you halting his voice by speaking over him.

“-The captain is likely experiencing some systemic shock at the moment,” you confessed, adjusting your uniform at your neck in an attempt to stifle your blush, “Judging from the hue of the dust, it's likely the plant he brought back had an effect that I doubt he would've prepared himself for.” You bit your lip, truly concerned for Law's wellbeing within your office, “I need you to take charge until either I, or Captain Law, tell you otherwise. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

“Aye, sir,” Bepo’s practiced reply barked into the speaker, you could almost visualize the salute on the other side of the transponder.

“Good boy,” you praised him, your hand moving down to the door handle and beginning to turn it, “I'm going to be out of contact for a while. I might still make it to dinner, but if I can't - please save me and the captain a plate!”

“Aye, sir!” he uttered again into the speaker, with a final, “Good luck with the captain!” Clicking aside the portable transponder, you thrust it into your pocket and shook aside your nerves.

Hastily, you flung wide the door, turning immediately upon entering and facing the door as you clicked it locked behind you. As soon as you entered the space, the sounds of rough slapping of hands meeting skin, huffs of exasperated panting, groans and pleads falling from your captain's panicked lips alongside his panting mewls of pleasure flung themselves loudly and carelessly into the air.

“Captain,” you whispered, your hands holding firm to the cloudy glass of your office door, “I know you're likely out of your own mind right now, but I'm going to tell you this anyway-.”

“-Fuck, what's happening to me? T-Tell me, please. Know I'm h-here. My h-head is here, I-I just-... ngmmh-...” he whined for you, the taste of your name tainting his tongue with desire and lust, “...don't judge me, please. I don't want this to change the image of myself in your head.”

Anticipation and a shameful wave of desire spread itself through your chest and ignited a throbbing need for your captain in your core. You knew this wouldn't be happening without this douse of pollen coursing through his veins, the raw need to chase his ecstacy within his fist behind you.

“All th-this because I wanted t’get you a-... f-fucking gift t’ court you-...” Law confessed with a whispered hiss, his eyes raking over your body with lust and need, “...M’guessing this's from that f-fucking flower I got for you. Is-s there a cure?”

A gasp flew from your lips at his confession, prompting you to almost glance over your shoulder at him. Deciding to give your captain a further shroud of decency, you halted your movement and chose your next words carefully.

“There's no cure I can manufacture here, Sir,” you whisper over your shoulder, “But there is one that I know of-.”

“-F-Fuck, please get it. Whatever it is. Get the fucking cure before I lose the final bit of control I h-have,” he roared your name, barking his orders as the skid of the iron legs of the chair backwards, raking against the steel floor. You jumped in shock, the shifting of material scattering prompted you to become more aware of his feral urges further.

Just as you began to turn your body to face your captain, two inked hands slammed against your own on the cloudy glass, prying them apart with a vice-like grip. Fingers laced between yours, his face fell in the crook of your shoulder as he deeply inhaled the scent of your perfume. He groaned at the feeling of his bare cock grinding in between the divet in your ass above your boiler suit, a shocked gasp fell from your lips in response.

“Fuck you smell good,” he moaned, his lips latching on your pulse as his tongue swirled against you, “Taste even fucking better.” You whined as his teeth sunk into your neck, his rhythmic grinding not easing against your clothed flesh.

His mind was hazy, his body was reacting to every subtle change in your voice and wavering breaths. As soon as you entered the room, it took all of his strength and will to not enter a state of frenzy and fuck into you with the deep ferocity of a wild beast. He owed you better than that. He wanted you to want him too, and if that meant holding onto his sanity by tooth and nail: so be it.

“Captain-,” you gasped as his right hand left yours to paw at the front zipper of your jumpsuit.

“-Law,” he growled his correction at you, “It’s Law, or anything other than my title or ‘sir’. Y-You-... fuck, sweetheart-... I n-need you. Please let me? Let me have you? Please?”

Slotting his hand over your chest, his fingers eagerly sought your left breast beneath the cup of your uniformed lingerie. He hastily rolled the peaked nub within his thumb, index and middle fingers; a cry of pleasure emanating from your throat as you threw your head back onto his shoulder.

“We can talk about it later,” he whispered into your ear, pinching at your nipple as he bit your earlobe, “Know that I wanted you before all this-... F-fuck-...but I need you now.”

He hastily turned you in his arms, splitting the top part of your boiler suit back and shedding it from your body as he claimed your lips beneath his. Allowing his primal desires to take the reins, he continued breaking you out of your clothes to match his own nudity: pinning you against the door with his rutting hips.

“What do I need to do? Tell me,” he moaned into your skin, his teeth catching on your own as you reciprocated his touch, “Guide me, my north star. Show me wh-what I gotta do.”

“Law,” you moaned for him, his body immediately pulling to you like iron to a magnet. Shedding the last of your clothes over your ankles, he used his feet to kick off your shoes. Cupping your thighs, he hoisted you into the air and hooked your knees over his hips.

“My north star,” he moaned into your skin, his lips clinging to every amount of flesh exposed to him, “You're the cure. You're the cure, aren't you? My body is telling me you are.” You moaned for him as he carried you over to your desk, lying you on the cool surface and hovering over your body.

“Anyone can be the cure for this, Law,” you confessed to him in a whimpering whisper, “It's the joining of bodies together that ends the torment. It's not me-.”

“-It is you,” he growled at you, hovering his lips just above yours and shaking from the amount of stress he placed himself under by holding back, “It's only ever been you. I need you. Better yet…” he lines his cock up with your glistening opening, the tip rubbing against your core prompting a small sob to exit from his lips.

“...I crave you,” his arms shook beneath his weight, the sheen of sweat pooling from his temple beneath his only hair down to his whiskered chin, “Always wanted you. Let me have you. Please say you'll let me have you.”

“You have me,” you confessed, tracing your arms over his quivering forearms down to his hips, clawing him to draw him nearer. Guiding his cock within your entrance, you angle his hips as his brow sets deep within its furrow.

“I feel like I'm gonna explode,” he confessed in a strangled whisper, “I-I’m sorry. I'm so, so sorry.”

“It's okay, it's okay,” you soothed him with your calming voice, your thumbs pressing circular motions against his hip bones as he slid his cock to the hilt within you, “Use me, it's okay.”

As soon as the length of Law's cock slid to the back of your walls, he entered into a bliss he never would've imagined. His vision struck white, electricity sparking the flames of his encumbering lust as he shot you deep with spurts of his sticky cum.

Barely having time to adjust to his size, he was already crying out for you. He immediately burst with his passionate release painting your gummy walls white, praising you for your gift to him while sobbing in deep pleas of anguish.

“Fuck, I'm c-cumming. I'm f-fucking cumming. I'm already-...” He mewled your name, huffing as he barely began moving within you, “...I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry. I-I-... hhah, fuck-... I'm sorry-... nngh- s-so good.”

You pawed at his ass, clutching onto his checks and held him deep within you, hips flush with your own. The twitches of his muscles all rippled with the expulsion of the final waves of his cum deep within you.

“I'm sorry,” he repeated in a whisper, alongside chanting your name like a prayer, “I'm so sorry.”

“It's okay, love, I know,” you hushed him, his body collapsing atop your own and caging you beneath him on your desk. You drew your hands up to his damp hair, fingers brushing away the strands and cradling him close.

Finally collecting his breath, his heartbeat slowing to a more forgiving beat, he refused to tear his face away from the crease of your neck and shoulder. Embarrassment at, not only, the hasty release of his cum within you had a red hue illuminating Law’s face. He was also appalled at the fact his surprise gift for you was a toxic aphrodisiac, one he fell within the snare of with no known cure.

“Law, look at me,” you cooed down at him, prompting him to nuzzle his pouting face deeper into your skin. You tried your best to stifle your giggle to no avail - your laughter aimed at his utter childishness.

“Law,” you chastised him, angling the heels of your palms down to collect his cheeks, “C’mon, love. Let me see those pretty eyes of yours. Look at me.”

He huffed out a breath of exasperation, finally tearing his face away from your shoulder and bringing his pouty face up to meet yours. His eyebrows were knit in a single point in the middle of his face, his eyes wide and filled with shame.

“I'm sorry, herbalist,” he acknowledged your formal rank, his cock still deeply held within you, “I am better than this. I-I promise I'm better than this.” You arched a single brow up with your growing smirk.

“Herbalist?” you parroted back at him, brushing your nose against his, “What happened to my name, or ‘my North Star’? I quite liked that one,” his blush deepened, the dark dusting of vibrant red cascading over his nose, cheeks and tips of his ears.

“Well, what happened to ‘love’, huh? Where'd that go?” he quipped back at you, gliding his reducing cock out of your walls, releasing the floodgates of his excessive load of cum expelling from your pussy. He shifted himself away, glancing down at the expulsion of his cum dripping onto your office floor.

“Fuck,” he shuddered out in a small whispered groan, “That was a bit more than I thought there would be. Room…” he extended his left hand upwards, the spatter on the floor and still within you vanishing with a further utterance of, “...Shambles.”

A small splash of water fell onto the floor, and a small spurt against your groin. You shot Law a quizzical look, prompting a smirk to rise on his cheeks.

“I tried washing my face in your sink as soon as I got a waft of the flower dust in my face,” he shrugged before nodding his head over to your herbalist station, “Water was still in it.”

Smiling, you leant up with your elbows behind your back, looking at the man who was priorly all consumed with feral lust. He looked accusingly at the pale flower in the small pot beside your naturopathic remedial herbs, eyes narrowed and lip snarling.

“It's the last time I'm buying you a fucking plant,” he muttered, turning to meet his eyes with yours, “Without checking with you first, of course,” he reached down with his right hand, smiling as you accepted his hand, “I want to buy you all the plants you could ever want,” he aided you to rise to your feet, guiding your hands to lace behind his neck.

“Thank you, love,” you smiled at him, prompting his eyes to crease with his own joy at the return of your name for him.

“Anything for my north star,” he pressed a gentle kiss atop your head, “My guiding light,” his lips trailed down to brush against the apple of your cheek, “My pretty map spiriting me home to hold you in my arms again,” he snaked his forearms around your waist, his smiling lips collecting yours beneath his.

Parting your lips, he angled his head to the side and pressed several waves of passionate caresses against your mouth. He sucked in a sharp breath through his nose, dipping his knees to elevate you within the air, his smile widening at the small squeak of surprise you released from your mouth to his.

He placed you onto the floor again, chasing your retreating lips as you arched your back to press your exposed chest against his. The warmth of your skin spread from your body onto his, the heat radiating from his body engulfing your own with a warm infusion of radiant bliss.

“You absolute sappy romantic,” you teased him as you broke from the kiss shared with him, “Didn't know you had all that in you. You must really like me.”

Scoffing back his laughter at your taunt, he squeezed your body against his. You laughed at his playful expression, leaning up to press a small kiss against his whiskered chin.

“Alright. Fuck you, you brat,” he laughed, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous grin, “I was gonna let you top me, use me to get your own release from me, but now- ohhhh, now,” he shuddered a sinister whisper down at you, “Now you're gonna get it.”

“I'm absolutely shaking,” you taunted him further, your teeth nipping at his jaw, “Shaking, quivering and cowering.”

“Not now, you're not,” he growled at you, lifting you within his arms and hooking your knees over his hips once more, “But you fucking will be when I'm done with you.”

#one piece #x reader #op law #trafalgar law #trafalgar d water-law #law x reader #law smut #trafalgar law smut #trafalgar law x reader #one piece x reader

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ddejavvu · 7 months

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HI!!! Please can i request an awkward!glasses reid oneshot where he’s like pining over the reader?? maybe with a bit of tension ;))) but he like slips up and says something like ‘god ur beautiful?’ THANK UUUU

The rain pouring down in massive, silvery sheets does nothing to dull your halo, Spencer thinks. Actually, it might make it shine brighter, a haze of mist clouding your form as you traipse through the downpour.

"Seattle sucks!" You gush, raising a hand to smear away the wet strands of your hair that cling to your face, "God, why can't Arizona have another murderer running around?"

"The rain is actually a good forensic countermeasure - it washes the blood away so that he can drag the body wherever he wants and we won't be able to follow his trail." Spencer has to shout to be heard over the splattering of water upon the sidewalk, and he tries not to cry as he feels water seeping into his boots. Rossi had treated the entire team to a pair of galoshes after his precious Italian leather shoes became mottled with mud, and though they're helpful for trekking through the storm, they're also fantastic at catching rainwater.

"I hate it when serial killers are smarter than us!" You plunge your hand into the pocket of your jacket, digging out the key fob for the car. You unlock it with a beep and the taillights shine in the storm. You're more than happy to throw the door open and slip out of your jacket, taking minimal rain damage to your outfit as you slide swiftly onto the driver's seat of the van.

Spencer hears you let out a groan as the car roars to life, and so does the heater. You throw your head back against the seat, hair stringy and soaked, face dripping with rain.

One droplet slides down your nose and dips between the curve of your lips, something you can't bring yourself to care about as the heater blasts the chill from your blood. He watches you melt into the seat, and only one thought comes to mind: "You're beautiful."

His voice is a quiet murmur, and he's also speaking over the torrential downpour outside, so you don't catch what he says, thankfully. He doesn't know why his brain had miscalculated his thought and sent it down through his mouth instead of just his head, but he fumbles to snatch the opportunity you give him to save himself.

"Hm?" You turn to look at him, brows slightly raised in curiosity.

"My boots are full!" He blurts, cheeks red but not from the heat as he reaches for one of his rain-soaked shoes, "I- I- There's rainwater in my- my boots, and I need to-" He tugs the rubber off of his foot and turns it upside-down outside of the car so that it splashes off of the pavement, and he jams it back over his soaked sock while furiously avoiding eye contact.

Your pants were looser than Spencer's own, and you'd been able to tuck them over the mouth of your boots. Yours aren't even remotely soggy inside, so you laugh incredulously as he releases his tsunami before you drive off.

"Spence, that's insane," You watch as he stuffs the second boot back onto his foot, "You poor thing, are your socks all wet?"

"Yeah," He breathes, finally shutting the car door and trying to relax his tensely-held muscles as he comes down from his embarrassment, "Uh- yeah it's fine, though. They'll dry out."

"Use the foot heater," You flick a button on the center console, and hot air seeps from a vent beneath the glove compartment, "That better?"

"Yeah," Spencer toes off his boots, letting the warmth aid his chilled skin and damp attire, "Thanks, Y/N."

"Thank you," You nod and turn your eyes to the road as you pull out of the parking lot.

"For what?" Spencer looks briefly over at you, glasses spattered with raindrops.

"For calling me beautiful," You grin.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one-shot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid headcanons #spencer reid headcanon #spencer reid hc #spencer reid hcs #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid dialogue #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fanfiction

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girlscience · 2 years

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i have started making waddles. i have very little idea what i'm doing but i'm having fun so that's all i care about :3 the first pic is where i realized it didn't fit on my head with my glasses on so i had to cut out a glued section and add two inches. the second is when i realized i looked like sauron and the third is when i realized i looked like optimus prime.

#there is so much foam on my floor #also hot glue strands because that stuff is stringy #fursuit process #furry

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k2ssland · 9 months

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eren hitting it from the back just to watch your ass bounce back and forth on his abs glistening with sweat. one hand roughly intertwined in your hair and a tight grasp on your brown plush thick body in the sweaty palms of his hands left crescent moons in the dimples of your hips where your skirt pooled. your fingers are searching for something to grab onto while he pounds into you, leaving you breathless between strokes. your sweet pussy squelching from it being suctioned onto the length of his thick, pretty dick. frothing at the base of his cock as your slick juices drip onto the silk sheets.

his thick hands make their way to your lower half, using both of them to pry your ass cheeks open and allowing him to reach further. he spits a long strand of saliva onto your hole, rubbing it in with his thumb. continuing his pace, a sharp stabbing pain emerges from your ass and it throbs around his finger as he pushes deeper. your arch falters underneath his grasp while sticky tears quickly blur your big doe eyes and you reach back, placing your hand on his stomach, and trying to push him back. your toes curled up as he fucked you with the perfect contrast of pleasure and pain.

eren's so addicted to you. you begin rambling between moans and gasps, telling him filthy things. ranging from how much you love him, how nobody will ever fuck you like he does, and how your body belongs to him. listening to your pretty mewls as music to his ears while his veiny engorged cock sinks into your swollen puffy pussy and his large finger fucks your hole simultaneously. your whole vision started to tunnel, your whole body shook with overstimulation, your skin sticky and damp with sweat, and you could feel yourself getting closer to cumming but holding off for him.

after a few more minutes of aggressively double penetrating his pretty little girlfriend, he finally gave you permission to cum. he presses his cock against that special spot and stays there until you cry out, painting a sheer coat around his throbbing dick as your hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to push him away. he praises as you come down from your orgasm, maintaining the same pace he brought you to your climax at. within seconds, he slows to a halt, and eren’s cock is pulsating and spilling stringy ropes of his cum, painting your inner walls completely white.

this may have been a little unhinged cause i don’t know how people feel about fingers in the ass but meee personally, i like when my man’s thumb is in my butt . . . unedited!

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joshlmbrt · 4 months

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I’m Stronger Than All My Men, Except For You. (k. anderson x reader)

‘YOU WON’T BE ABLE TO LEAVE ME.’

【𝜗𝜚 warnings; kai is literally a warning, mentions of murder, toxic relationship, abuse (although i try not to describe to much about it!), mentions of not eating, & manipulation. (if a man treats you like this - RUN!!!!!)

【𝜗𝜚 an; i don’t know what i was doing with this …. but i hope everyone who reads it enjoys!!

There’s a stinging feeling in your chest and on your cheek.

It’s close to a burn. Both are caused by Kai’s words and hands.

The day started out as usual with Kai’s growing friend group - if you could even call it that - his spewing words filling their mind with poison and hate.

But, like a good spouse, you sit there with a frown on your face as you watch him. The fire behind his voice, the bags under his eyes - the brown had seemed to darken to almost a black.

A bit of stubble was scattered on his jaw, his cheeks looked almost sucked in, the only thing he’s living on these days is adderal - occasionally a sandwich and a coke.

He wasn’t the Kai you grew up around. He wasn’t the Kai you fell in love with anymore.

It made your heart constrict.

There’s a loud clap making your flinch and your eyes flicker up towards Kai.

“Meetings done.”

You glance towards the worn down flannel couch and hum, standing from the chair.

“You weren’t on your game today,” He mentions. “I need your head in the game in case anything goes wrong.”

“But you’ll make sure it doesn’t.” You say, nodding once. He seems to like that comment, a buffing his chest slightly.

You walk past him and towards the stairs. “But I won’t be there.”

That quickly deflates him, causing him to quickly follow after you, the sound of heavy boots loud. Your heart quickens when you enter his room, opening the closet door.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m- I just need time to myself. Just for a little bit.” You open the suitcase, stepping back towards the closet.

“You’re not leaving,” He shakes his head, stringy strands of hair falling over his face. “You won’t be able to leave me.”

You roll your eyes - a bad move - before stuffing some clothes into your bag. “Yeah? And why is that?”

“You don’t know how to be anything else,” He steps closer, your shoulder bumping into his chest as you turn. He grabs your wrist, fingers wrapped as he pulls you closer. “You don’t know how to be on your own.”

“You just don’t want to be alone.”

That’s when your cheek stings and the tight grip is gone, your arm dropping to your side. Your fingertips trace over your cheek, staring up at him with glassy eyes and a shocked impression.

Kai had never raised a hand towards you. Ever.

He sighs, fingers wrapping around your wrist - gentle this time - pulling your hand away. There was a mark. He tsks. “Why did you make me do that, hm?”

You blink, a tear rolling down your cheek. “I didn’t make you do anything!” You yank your arm out of his grip. “You’re always trying to shift stuff on to me so you don’t take the blame!”

He watches as you close the suitcase, zipping it up and grabbing it. You stare at him.

“I want time.”

He simply nods, stepping away from his door. You watch, heart beating so hard you’re afraid it’s going to burst out of your chest at any moment. You walk past him and down the stairs, the door slamming.

Kai hums, shutting the door slowly and slowly making his way down the stairs. He grabs a wooden chair, placing it in front of the door and sitting on it as his dark eyes land on the door.

He knows you’ll come back. You have no money. No close family. No where to go.

You only have him.

And that makes his heart flutter in a weird way.

The door slowly creaks open no sooner than a minute later, the suitcase being placed on the floor. You turn and close the door slowly, forehead resting against it.

He watches as your shoulders slump before shaking and there’s a shuddering noise. He slowly stands, making his way over.

You tense a bit as you feel his hand slowly travels up past your shoulder blades, his fingers sliding against the skin of the back of your neck, the tips of his nails digging in slightly.

Your head lifts slowly, tears trailing down your cheeks. “I can’t keep doing this.” You sob, shaking your head.

He shakes his head as well, nose poking at your temple as he presses a kiss to your cheekbone then your cheek. “I’m sorry… I don’t know why I did that,” He whispers, lips tracing over your skin. “I promise I won’t raise my hand again. I love you to much too lose you. I’m sorry.”

You nod silently.

He slowly turns you around, hands grabbing at your cheeks as he wipes away your tears. His hands are a bit rough for you liking, your lips being tugged to the side, the wetness of your tears smearing over your skin.

He stares at your red, watery eyes. “You’re so pretty.”

A man with charm is a very dangerous thing.

【𝜗𝜚 kai anderson tags; @brknlamb, @kaismanwich, @maeriavizsendingjpmdose, @slvt4jamesmarch

【𝜗𝜚 thank you for reading! comments, feedback, likes, reblogs, & requests are always encouraged, welcomed, & deeply appreciated!

#kai anderson x reader #kai anderson x you #evan peters x reader #evan peters x fem!reader #evan peters x you #james patrick march x reader #jimmy darling x reader #kit walker x reader #warren lipka x reader #colin zabel x reader

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withacapitalp · 11 months

Text

Happy birthday @stevecarrington !!!! You mentioned this idea only a little bit ago, but I had to take it and do a little skip and a hop to a ficlet. I'm so glad I have you in my life, and I hope you like this!

Steve had accepted he would probably die young.

Between three concussions, the Upside Down, and his tendency for getting into unfathomable situations, an early death was almost an inevitability at this point. He had made his peace with it. He was okay.

But he had never expected that yarn would be the thing that finally killed him off.

“Easy,” Steve muttered to himself, pulling fruitlessly at the fibers entangling his fingers, arms, neck, and chest, “Easy she says! If I ever make it out of this I’m going up to Robin and I’m telling her exactly how easy it would be to-“

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice said from behind him, stopping both his furious growling and his attempts to escape his stringy prison.

Eddie wasn’t supposed to be home till seven. Dustin and the rest had promised to stall him while Steve tried to work on his gift for Eddie without prying eyes. A cursory glance at the clock by his bed told Steve that it was in fact already 7:08, and he had simply been trapped for far longer than he realized.

“Sunshine?”

With a sigh of defeat, Steve awkwardly scooted around, facing Eddie with feigned nonchalance. Like it was perfectly normal to come home and find his boyfriend wrapped in soft black yarn and cursing at himself.

“Whatcha doin’ there, Sport?” Eddie asked, making a valiant effort at trying to hold back the gleeful smile attempting to overtake his face. He was obviously about two seconds away from laughing his ass off, but Steve appreciated the attempt at protecting his dignity.

“Oh, you know, just a little self bondage,” Steve said casually, subtly tugging at the yarn pinning his wrist to his bicep, “Thought I would practice wrapping up your birthday present- which is going to be me, by the way.”

Sex was the only thing Steve had left to offer as a gift at this point. Clearly his other idea was not going to work out.

Eddie hummed, looking Steve up and down once before walking all the way into the bedroom and closing the door. He rounded the foot of the bed, kneeling in front of Steve and carefully looping his long fingers around the few strands of yarn that had tangled around Steve’s neck. The anxiety that had been humming at the back of his mind vanished as the pressure eased, and Steve breathed out a slow sigh of relief, letting his eyes shut as Eddie put his finger under Steve’s chin and raised his head up.

“Want to try again?” Eddie murmured, holding his lips inches away from Steve’s, letting him drown in those deep dark eyes that always made all thoughts fly immediately away from his brain.

“I was trying to knit you a scarf,” Steve admitted, trying to avert his eyes. It was impossible with the way Eddie was holding him, and with the yarn still holding him hostage, Steve was at the mercy of his boyfriend’s curiosity.

“You were what?!”

“Well, you’ve made us all things,” Steve explained, pulling away from Eddie’s grip and gesturing with his chin towards the closet where Eddie’s latest creation- a cable knit dark green jumper- sat innocently on a hanger, “I wanted to surprise you by making you something. Unfortunately, the yarn fought back, and the yarn won,”

A flurry of different emotions raced across Eddie’s features. First shock, then wonder, a strange mixture of sadness and melancholy, and then a fondness so warm Steve felt a shiver go through his entire body, right down to his toes.

“Jesus H Christ, I love you,” Eddie whispered, dragging Steve in. Fire burned in his belly as Eddie’s tongue immediately swiped across his bottom lip, the kiss turning deliciously dirty within seconds.

“I love you too,” Steve gasped as they broke apart, “Now help me out of this,”

A wicked little smile curled on Eddie’s lip, and he shook his head, wrapping his arms around Steve and slowly lowering him to the floor.

“Not yet,” Eddie said in a teasing voice, leaning down to kiss the scar on Steve’s neck as his fingers began to play with the button on his partner’s jeans, “I want to open my present early.”

And, well, who was Steve to deny the birthday boy his request?

#steve harrington #stranger things #st #eddie munson #steddie #st drabble #st4 #steddie ficlet #Eddie knits #Steve doesnt #but he wants to

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minaturefics · 13 days

Text

Whispered Words

Request: Can I request an aragorn x reader where the reader is a queen from a faraway land? The fellowship came to his land to ask for help and Aragorn instantly fell in love? Whatever you like to add!

A/N: Ngl, I feel like I went off the rails a bit here (still trying to get into the groove again). I tried to create and integrate a somewhat convincing land/people. And the fic is mid-war so idk how romantic it really is. Still, I hope you enjoy it!!!

Aragorn x Reader

Fem reader

No content warnings

2.5k words

---

You sat back in your throne of twisting coral and straightened the crown of mother-of-pearl shards on your head. All the torches in the throne room were lit, the fires flickering blue and purple, and the faded banners of your country adorned the walls. The coastal guard had alerted you to intruders — a company of four — that were swiftly captured and brought to the crumbling castle.

Who would dare sail the black waters? Who would dare to venture so close to the graveyard of the Númenóreans? There was only one, you thought, who would be desperate enough, bold enough, to endeavour such a treacherous trip — the returned heir of Gondor.

The rumours had flowed to you, to your kingdom, carried by the waters of the Anduin and the creatures that inhabited it. There were stories of the encroaching shadow of Mordor, of the growing strength of the Corsairs of Umbar, even of the awakening of the Ents. For years you had hoped that the dangers would remain on the continent, but it seemed that the kingdom’s luck had run out.

You reached for your sceptre, a beautiful thing of wrought gold and pearl, and nodded at your guards to let them in.

The large wooden doors creaked open and revealed a curious array of companions — a man, an elf, a dwarf, and a wizard. The wizard you knew, one of the fabled Maiar, but the rest…

They walked forward hesitantly, eyes scanning the room, until they stood before you. They were waterlogged and bedraggled, their clothes creased, sticking to their forms, their hair hanging in stringy strands. Even the elf, so noble and graceful, stood in a dishevelled mess, and you fought a smile.

The wizard bowed first and the rest followed suit. You eyed the man, taking in his dark hair and his ripped clothing. This was the heir of Gondor? He looked like a mere Ranger, a man of the land. He raised his head and a pair of keen grey eyes pierced you.

Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers tightened around the sceptre.

“I know why you have come,” you said.

The elf and the dwarf shared astonished looks, but the man stood straighter and said, “Then you know there is not a moment to lose. I will speak plainly if Your Highness allows.” You inclined your head and he continued. “I am Aragorn, son of Arathron, heir to the throne of Gondor. My companions — Gimli, son of Gloin, Legolas of Mirkwood, and Gandalf the White.

“We have come to request your aid against Sauron of Mordor. Your kingdom may be safe for now, removed from the continent, but it will only be a matter of time before Sauron turns his eye towards the west.”

That, you already knew. But even so, to send your creatures, your people, into battle… There was little hope in defeating the overwhelming forces of Sauron, but here, sequestered away and shrouded by a vengeful sea, your people might still yet live.

“What will you offer me in return?”

“In return?” Gimli frowned, his chest puffing. Aragorn raised a hand to silence him and the dwarf fell to quiet grumbling.

“Land,” Aragorn said. “A home, an island, close enough to the continent for trade. It is wild and empty, but the land can be worked.”

“You speak of Tolfalas,” you murmured, thinking of the rocky and lonely island in the Bay of Belfalas.

His offer was a good one. It was not an easy life for you or your people, surrounded by tumultuous seas, battered by frequent storms. The bay would be sheltered, there would be plenty of catch and the weather would be temperate enough to farm properly, and of course, there would be trade with the coastal cities. It could be a place where your people could grow and thrive.

“Our people once were allies,” you said to Aragorn. “When your ancestors’ hubris destroyed them, it nearly destroyed us too.”

“This is not hubris, Your Highness,” he said, voice firm and impassioned, stepping forward. “Hubris would be to sit here and think that your kingdom would be beyond his reach. Hubris would be to think that you alone could survive him. Together there is still a chance we might drive his forces back, but alone we would fail.”

Aragorn straightened and squared his shoulders, he lifted his chin, and there in the ghostly light of the hall, he stood, a true king.

A heat flared in your stomach.

“Very well. You have our support.”

He broke into a smile, and gone was the solemn son, the honourable heir. Instead, before you stood a man, handsome and strong, and your traitorous heart thudded in your chest.

Aragorn settled down in the hull of the ship, feeling each sharp rise and fall of the waves, and tried to get comfortable on the cushioned bench. Rain pelted the deck above him like a volley of arrows and the sky rumbled like a distant war drum. It was unfortunate that they had to sail back to the continent in a storm, but you had supplied them with a ship of your people, sturdy enough to withstand any tempest. He was glad that they had secured your allegiance, and he had no doubt it would be invaluable when Sauron began his assault in earnest.

He had heard and read about your kind, the Númenórean’s oldest allies, people of land and sea, shapeshifters of a sort, but to meet one, to meet you…

He thought of how you looked on your throne of dead coral, formidable and beautiful, your gaze sharp and your painted lips grim. He had seen the flicker of amusement on your face, the hint of a smile, when they stood, dripping onto the black marble floor. Such a lovely, lonely queen, the leader of a dying race, the steward of a fading land.

Were it not for the weight of war on his shoulders, he would have been convinced that he had wandered into a fairy tale. For so long all he had been concerned with was his relentless work as a Ranger, of his inescapable duty as king, and yet when he had laid eyes on you those swirling thoughts vanished. Proud, noble brow, beautiful, determined eyes, graceful, strong shoulders.

His heart had leapt from his chest and he was still yet to retrieve it.

He reached for the strange pendant around his neck and held it up to the lantern. It was an iridescent shell, gleaming purple and pink, that curved and spiralled to a point, much like a war horn. The memory of you giving it to him rose in his mind.

“It is the custom of our people,” you said with an amused smirk. “It allows us to speak across leagues of land and sea.”

“I have not heard of such a thing,” he muttered, turning the shell in his hand, running his dirty thumb over the polished surface.

You tugged a similar shell out from under your robes. “They are a matched pair.”

His heart stuttered. Was it possible that you felt the same inkling of connection as he did?

“They were originally used by lovers, but they were soon adopted for logistical arrangements,” you said and he pushed down the rising feeling in his chest. “Though,” you continued, smile growing mischievous, “the way to use them has not changed.”

“What do you mean?”

“To harken to the paired shell, one has to kiss one’s own. There is a limit to how much one may speak, but it should be sufficient for us to arrange where and where to deploy our armies.”

Aragorn twisted the shell between his fingers. It felt too intimate to press his lips to it, to speak, knowing you would be holding yours close to your cheek, listening.

“Aragorn!” Gimli called from the top of the stairs. “We are emerging from the storm.”

“I can see the continent on the horizon,” Legolas added.

Aragorn glanced down at the shell. Perhaps now would be a good time to test it. He listened for their retreating steps and, feeling foolish, brought the shell hesitantly to his lips. It was cool and smooth, and it carried the scent of the ocean. It glowed, illuminating a sphere of light around it.

“Aragorn?” Your voice was clear, but quiet, and he brought it closer to him. “Has something already gone awry?”

“No,” he chuckled, strangely relieved and soothed by the sound of your voice. “I simply wish to inform you that we have made it out of the storm. Dol Amroth is in sight.”

“That is good news. I am corralling my forces, we will soon follow behind you. The larger fleets we will send to Dol Amroth to defend against the corsairs, and our smaller army of creatures we will send up the Anduin.”

“That will do for now.”

The shell’s light pulsed and began to fade.

“We will not be able to speak for a few more hours,” you said, voice faint and thin. “Until then…”

“Until then,” he murmured but the shell’s light had already vanished.

It had been a gruelling three weeks. True to your word, you had deployed your armies as you had planned with Aragorn. In the Bay of Belfalas, the dark ships of Umbar were repelled by the hallowed vessels of your people, and up the Anduin swam swarths of sharp-toothed monsters to Pelargir and Osgiliath. For three weeks you had muttered into your shell, had cradled it to your ear, savouring the snatches of conversation with Aragorn.

“We are entering the Paths of the Dead soon,” he said. “I hope we will emerge with good news.”

“Be careful, Aragorn. I, too, have heard the stories of that path. The Dead will not be forgiving.”

“I do not fear them.”

“But I fear for you.”

“I promise you, we will be on our guard.”

“I had forgotten how enchanting the race of men can be,” you said. “Even in war they play their flutes and harps.”

“The people must take pleasure where they can.”

“When this is over, I think I shall learn.”

He chuckled, the sound warm and soothing. “Dol Amroth is known for its skillful harp players. I’m certain you will be able to find a good teacher.”

“Perhaps one day we can welcome you to Tolfalas with the sound of harps.”

He hummed, a low, pleased rumble. “I look forward to that day.”

“Aragorn, for Valar’s sake, please answer,” you grit out. “Word of Pelennor has reached me. Are you alive?”

There was silence, and then, a whisper, “Yes. But we have suffered greatly.”

“The sun, it has been blotted out.”

“The men are losing hope.”

“I have faith, Aragorn,” you whispered, picturing him standing in your halls, strong and noble. “I have faith in you.”

“That brings me more comfort than you know.” His voice was soft and tender, and your heart stirred. “You bring me more comfort than you know.”

“We are marching for the Black Gates,” he said, grim.

“You go beyond my aid. We will repel what forces we can here in the bay and along the Anduin.”

“If you do not hear from me —”

“No. We will see each other again, Aragorn.”

“We may not,” he said. “And so now I say: I am glad to have met you. I am glad that we were able to honour our ancestors’ history.”

The shell pulsed.

“Aragorn…”

And the light faded.

You had seen, had felt, the destruction of the ring, even all the way in Dol Amroth. There had been cheering in the street, tears of grief, of relief, and the Sea-ward Tower’s bell chimed in victory. Aragorn had answered you desperate calls, assuring you that he was alive, and made promises to ride down to the coastal city when his troops had settled.

You sat on the docks, dangling your bare feet into the cool water, and watched the setting sun paint the sky orange and pink. An odd look perhaps, for a dignified queen, but after the horrors and terrors, you felt that it was a necessary indulgence. You stared at your rippling reflection, wishing you could shift form and vanish into the embrace of the ocean, just for a moment. Alas, that would be too much of an indulgence; you needed to be available should any matter arise.

You thought of Aragorn, of his steely grey eyes, his peppered beard, his toothy grin, and your heart fluttered. Who would have thought that a descendant of the Númenor would stir your heart so? Or perhaps it was not so much of a surprise, given the blood that ran through both your veins.

Aragorn’s voice rang out, calling your name, and you fumbled for your pendant.

“Are you on your way? Shall I inform the Prince of your arrival?”

He chuckled, sounding clearer and closer than he had in weeks. “I am already here.”

You whipped around and he stood a few paces from you. You rose to your feet, taking in his eyes, soft and silver in the evening light, and his lips, cracked but smiling. He was unarmoured, but dressed in his kingly robes of black and silver. You swallowed, suddenly conscious of your damp robes and bare feet, flush rising in your cheeks.

Valar, what had come over you? You were a queen of your own right.

“I wish you would have told me of your impending arrival. I would have sent word to the princes to prepare the city to welcome you.”

He waved his hand. “There is no need for such things.”

“You are a king.”

“I did not come as a king.”

His gaze was sure and full of meaning. He stepped closer and the breeze carried his scent of cedar and pipeweed to you. He was so much larger up close, broad and imposing, but also so much more charming. You ran your eyes over his face, the lines on his forehead, the creases at the corners of his eyes, his slightly unruly beard. Yes, underneath it all, still a man.

“I did not come for them, the people of the city,” he muttered. “I came for you.”

“Aragorn…”

He reached for your hand, and when you did not move away, he wrapped his fingers around yours. “Do not tell me you do not feel this also. I have heard the change in how you say my name.”

Your heart swooped, but you shook your head. “I have my people to care for, a home to build.”

“As do I. We need not make any formal promises as of yet.” He squeezed your hand. “I only ask that we continue to speak as we have these last few weeks. I do not wish to go a day without hearing your voice.”

You nodded slowly and he brought your hand up to his lips. He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, a smile breaking over his face. “How long do you have before you must return?”

“A day or two.”

You hummed, gripping his hand tighter, and faced the sun. The air was crisp and clear and the rays warmed your skin. There was laughter from the homes and music in the streets. The Sea-ward Tower’s bell rang out, loud and joyous. Aragorn glanced at you, smiling, and you grinned.

“Then let us enjoy this peace for a moment longer.”

---

Aragorn is so grim and broody sometimes I find it so hard to write him, to show passion and feeling in a way that's not out of character. I hope he didn't come off as too flat here.

#aragorn x reader #aragorn x you #aragorn x y/n #aragorn #lotr fanfic #lotr fic #lotr fanfiction #lotr

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theresthesnitch · 6 months

Note

Trick or treat! 🎃

Part 1

By the time they made it to the front of the line, Remus is genuinely enjoying himself with James, his girlfriend Lily, and Sirius.

Sirius, who looks like a centerfold model and keeps stealing glances at Remus. An impossible senario, he is sure, but Remus can't stop thinking that Sirius seems interested in him too.

"A'right, kids. A'right. Scootch on up closer. Don't be shy; we don't bite here," a costumed man says as he guides them onto the porch. He wears makeup that darkens his eyes and makes his skin look sallow. His hair hangs in long, stringy strands around his face like he hasn't bathed in years. "I'm the caretaker, and you're about to enter my house. But beware. Not everyone who checks in gets a chance to check out, and some of our guests are dying to meet you."

James is bouncing on his feet, Lily looks aprehensive but like she's having fun, and Remus is just excited at the prospect of being scared. Sirus looks about ready to piss his pants, and Remus can't stop smiling at it. As the caretaker talks, Sirius edges back away from him until he's almost pressed against Remus's arm.

Remus resists the urge to reach around and tap on Sirius's shoulder, but just barely. Instead, he leans in to whisper. "If you need to, you can hold my hand."

"Shut up, I dont' need to," Sirius says quickly with false bravado. He gives Remus wan smile.

They walk into the first room of the house, which is a sitting room of sorts. They pass a haggard looking maid who appears to be missing an eye, then move into the room that would almos seem normal if you don't look closely at the horrific details. It's actually really incredible continutity, if you ask Remus, but he's not so sure if Sirius would agree.

The door closes behind them and the lights go off, just as suddenly. There's the sound of lightning, and flashes of a strobe light before the framed picture in front of them slides up to reveal it's contents--two twin girls with long dark hair and white robes--in the living flesh. Or, well, in the flesh, nonetheless.

Sirius jumps and screams, bacing solidly into Remus and grabbing both of his hands. The twins continue talking disquetingly in sync, but Sirius doesn't let go of his hands. Remus doesn't pull back.

When the fireplace opens to reveal a crawlspace for them to crawl through to the next room, Sirius shifts until Remus is in front of him, but he doesn't let go of one of his hands.

"Alright there?" Remus asks as he pulls Sirus through behind him.

"I'm just fine," Sirius says proudly, then drops his voice. "Please dont' leave me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Remus says.

Part 3

#snitch answers asks #trick or treat!#wolfstar #haunted house #this is inspired by a real life hanted house that I went to this weekend

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melancholymetropolis · 2 years

Text

"For a quiet guy, you sure make good use of that tongue, Giyuu."

His calloused hands gripped the back of my thighs fiercely. The water pillar separated them and brought his face closer to the area. He hiked up the nightdress over my plump rear and exposed my lower half to the night air. Giyuu raised his hands from the soft tissue and took hold of my lower cheeks. Separating them as well and exposing the slick cunt near it.

I took a firm hold of the window sill and looked at the full moon outside it. A cool breeze licked my skin and caused shivers to dance down my spine. The straps of the dress fell off my shoulders and its neckline was ripped open by a familiar intruder. Giyuu's saliva was still wet on my neck and erect nipples. He spent so much time toying with them. Lapping against the bud with his plush tongue and suckling gently. It felt so good to be touched by him. It's been two months since our last rendevous.

Two months since he snuck onto my estate and into my bed.

Two months since I told him I loved him and begged him to stay.

I wanted to be mad at Tomioka. I wanted to curse him out and banish him from my sight. But, the moment his lips touched mine all my anger faded and it was replaced with lust.

Giyuu slid his body between my legs and rested his back underneath the window sill. The soft muscle within his mouth started to lap against my vulva. I moaned and gripped the edge harder. Giyuu took a firm hold of my ass and lowered my body toward his face until I was practically sitting on his face. His tongue started to move faster against the slit, capturing every drop of the slick on it. With my slutty hip movements, he was able to tickle my sweet center. I groaned softly and looked down at him. His sapphire eyes seemed to glow beneath me. They were half-closed and staring right at me.

"You are lucky I find that mouth useful," I purred, brushing the strands of hair from his face. "I would've tossed you out by now."

The pillar moans against my cunt and slides the sloppy crevice right to my clit. He circles the throbbing bud a few times before wrapping his lips around it to suck. A slew of curses fell from my mouth as my walls started to pulse; clenching and releasing at a faster rate. Giyuu started to move his head side to side as he sucked the bud, creating even more friction than before. I took my bottom lips between my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut. After a short while, my knees began to shake and my walls pulsed faster. Giyuu's smooth fingers snuck between my legs and slowly pushed into my center. He pressed the tips to the roof of my cunt and hammered the spongy area growing within. While holding the dress's skirt with the other.

"Ah fuck," I cried, grinding my cunt against Giyuu's face. "I'm gonna. . ."

No matter how calm I tried to keep my body, the pleasure forced it to act uncontrollably. My juices were coating the inside of my thighs and, I was pretty certain, covered Giyuu's face. The thick slick came down in stringy rivers, like honey dripping from the comb. And my lover acted like a greedy animal, marveling in its sight and taste.

Without warning, my whole body tensed. My nails dug into the window pane and my face forced into an unflattering expression. My legs stopped shaking and my hips stopped fucking Giyuu's face. My nerves were buzzing and my brain was empty. Loud moans spilled from my closed lips as I rode out the power of orgasm. Gasps followed next as the muscles started to move again. I started to slowly grind my oozing cunt on his face to make the orgasm last even longer. The pillar didn't mind; in fact, he moaned from the action.

I kept doing that until my poor clit was far too sensitive for his mouth and I pulled away from him. I pressed my back against a nearby wall and pressed a hand onto my forehead--- I had to collect myself.

Tomioka rose to his feet and looked directly into my eyes. He was still almost entirely clothed. Hatori and all. The only thing missing were his shoes.

"I have something to ask you," he hesitated.

"What is it?"

He paused. "Do you. . . still want me to stay?"

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books-are-escapes · 5 months

Text

out in the rain - b. b.

word count: ~800

the sky is a perfect collection of gray, the wind blows against my face, some sprinklings of rain stick to my skin. a message appears on my phone… from bradley. i sigh, reading what he wrote. “hey honey, can i come talk to you?” my frustration was to its max with this man. “no, i’m leaving to go to class at the moment, what do you want?” i texted as much sass as i could.

my car door took the brunt of it, being slammed as i exasperatedly got into my car. a response came across, “please?” i picture his big brown eyes boring into my heart and i caved. “you know what? fine. but you get one minute and i’ll be home at 4.” i texted furiously before throwing my phone in the seat, gripping the steering wheel and laying my head on it, cursing bradley for hurting me and for continually pursuing me.

my car rolled down the driveway, making this ride seem so much longer. class even dragged on too. he was consuming my every thought. i couldn’t quit thinking about him.

the rain picked up a bit so my umbrella came in handy today for the walk across campus.

driving home filled my stomach with nerves and butterflies and a ball of dread. i didn’t want to see bradley, i don’t like that i told him to come over, but there’s still a part of me that hopes we could work out.

the hope seemed to overgrow the dread like vines on a house. bradley’s bronco sat in the street and i bit my lip to keep from smiling as he sat on my step with my favorite flowers.

i put my car in park and stepped out. he lifted his head and his eyes met mine. i forgot why i was upset with him and i remembered exactly why i loved him in the first place. he stood up, his mustache shifting to equal the gentle smile on his face. the rain seemed to pick up. “honey… i’m so sorry. it was wrong. i shouldn’t have done what i had.” “thank you for apologizing.” i crossed my arms. “truth is, i’m not good at showing my heart and feelings. i wish i was, but i’ve never found something like that easy. if you’ll give me the time–” a clap of thunder sounded, i wasn’t expecting it so i jumped a bit. “–to show you.” he chuckled.

“bradley, my heart hurts and i don’t like that we separated. i’ve missed you a lot and i want you back in my life.” tears formed in the corners of my eyes. i took a step toward him. “i brought you these.” he handed me the bouquet. “i figured they’d help either way.” i smiled, taking the flowers and cradling them.

the rain started coming down more and more, i was starting to get soaked and so was he. his hair started clinging to his forehead. i felt drops running down my cheeks as well. “can we go back to what we were? i just miss you and i desperately want you back in my life bradley.” my voice wobbled as i practically begged. “that’s why i wanted to come see you… to tell you how much i love you.” his voice raised over the rain. my heart started racing when he said that. he took another step towards me. i set the flowers down on the stoop. his hands rested on my waist as i wrapped my arms around his neck, crying into his shoulder. “bradley, i love you. you’re so stupid but i love you so much.” he laughed, rubbing my back.

the rain was pouring in thick sheets, we were both soaked through. i let go of the hug. my hands went to his cheeks. water continued to run down my face and his. “just tell me you want that too.” my eyes and his were locked in on each other. “i want it. i want you.”

he brushed a stringy strand of hair off of my forehead, cupping my face in his large hands. “i love you honey, and i’m sorry.” his thumbs gently wiped some tear drops from my cheeks. “bradley, kiss me, dammit.” his laugh was music. “i want to enjoy the shit out of this.” i laughed too.

he leaned in so slowly, pulling my face to meet his. he paused a millimeter from my lips. i pouted. “oh yeah… i’m enjoying it.” his sly smile tickled my tummy. his mustache brushed against my top lip, then our lips connected and i think i felt something resembling a firework show in my stomach. thunder rang through the sky as our lips touched. i couldn’t get enough of him. my salty tears and the rain water mixed on my cheeks, but i’d never felt happier. the rain pelted down and filled my soul with a joy i hadn’t felt in awhile. we pulled each other as close as we could, my arms wrapping around his neck, his securely holding my waist.

when we pulled away i hit his chest, “you silly, silly man, i love you.” his hands slid to grip my waist. “honey, i love you too.”

AN: hehe i love the rain and i love kisses in the rain and i love the thought of someone running to kiss you in the rain and i love the thought of it raining while they tell you they love you.

#top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x you #rooster imagine #rooster fanfic #top gun: maverick #rooster bradshaw fic #rooster top gun

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vmpiires · 2 months

Text

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ ❛ SPEED DEMON—スピード狂, CHOSO KAMO

·.⌇ 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓. choso loves nothing more than racing, the adrenaline pumping through his veins, and high speed…and his brother of course. he’s been champion for the past three years of street racing. wc, 889. dark mode recommended.

note. i need somebody to draw choso in a racer outfit and send it to me PLEASE. anyway hope ya enjoy :D reblog to support meeee

tags. street racer!choso, mean!choso, modern AU, female anatomy, smoking, no nsfw. lmk if i missed anything.

misc. masterlist AO3

″𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐃𝐎 𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄. 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐓 𝟑, 𝐌𝐀𝐍, 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓. ″ ㅤ⏤ㅤ XAVIER WULF

you were never into the concept of street racing. let alone a fan of it. there was no room for something like this in your world. the most experience you had with street racing was those tokyo drift games at the arcade.

a close friend of yours, yuji itadori, had invited you to a street racing event that was going on friday night. you wanted to say no but yuji probably would’ve been begging you to come along, so you agreed.

screeching tires coming from a shiny black toyota supra alert the crowd as everyone cheers, chanting a name but it was so loud that you could hardly hear. the smell of burnt tires and gas clogged your nostrils.

a man with black stringy hair, tied back into a low ponytail. you suppress a groan when you hear the women in the crowd screaming as they fawned over the pale looking male as he removed the ponytail, letting the strands fall down onto his shoulders.

his expression is stoic and bland. the only thing interesting about his face was that black mark running across the bridge of his nose and his violet irises that sparkled under the moonlight and the accompanying street lights. the smoke from the exhausts giving him a slightly more intimidating look. he was tall and lean. you could easily tell he was pretty fit under that simple outfit he was wearing.

“you look like you don’t belong here,” the man rasped. his low adverb voice caught you off guard. for some reason, you were expecting his voice to sound a bit lighter than that. like yuji’s voice but slightly deeper. not like that. but speaking of yuji, he never mentioned he had an older brother.

you noticed those piercing violet irises were in your direction. he seemed to be waiting for you to answer him. you clear your throat.

“i’m just here because he invited me.” you point in yuji’s direction. the racer smiles when you mention the pink haired boy. choso looks you up and down with a smirk, seemingly judging and examining you.

“oh, so you’re the one he’s been hanging around?”

the comment made you raise an eyebrow. in someway it sounded offensive but you didn’t want to jump to conclusions about a guy you don’t even know. you lightly bob your head up and down, quietly adding a ‘mhm’ to your response.

“you got a name?” he reaches into his pocket and sticks a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. as you answer, he takes a drag from the tobacco stick and releases the smoke into the air.

choso's expression remained unchanging as you spoke, his eyes were still on you. he was in thought, still assessing her. he repeats your name under his breath as if trying to remember it before he spoke again. “choso. what's your relationship with yuji?”

“he’s my friend.” you spoke up.

choso's eyes narrowed slightly in interest when she said that. “and you've been hanging out with that idiot recently?" he asked, sounding amused. the man leans in closer, letting you see his heavily pierced ears under his hair and the tongue piercing as he spoke.

“i don’t know why you even bother with him. you wanna take a ride with me? me and you can get acquainted.”

your eyes travel to yuji, who seemed like he didn’t care much about the comments his brother was making on him being dumb—but all three of you knew he wasn’t the brightest of the bunch. he smiles and waves his hand as if he wants you to hang out with choso.

sighing, you agree.

you found yourself sitting in the front seat of the toyota supra with choso, speeding through the streets of tokyo. even in the inside of the car, you could hear the engine roaring. it almost sounded as if you were in the presence of a dragon.

it was obvious that choso was in love with the risk of crashing the car or the thrill of being hunted by the police. you held onto the handle just above the window with each sharp turn choso took, making your body slam against the door almost.

“stop being so scared and enjoy it.” choso was grinning while music thumped from the speakers, which was eventually turned down so he could fawn over the growling sounds of his engine, that had been moded to perfection along with the rest of the car.

the car stops at a 7-eleven parking lot. it’s pretty secluded though. the male looks as you, unbuckling both his and your seatbelt. he leans back in his seat. he had an attractive smile on his face as he looked you.

“you ever been kissed before?” he asks. once again, he surprises you with his question. you took a moment to think about if you’ve already had your first kiss or not but maybe you were taking a bit too long for choso’s liking.

smashing his lips onto yours, the two of you made out for a short moment. you couldn’t deny, choso was definitely attractive aside from his rude comments and bored expression. your arms slide up over his shoulder and his hands squeeze your waist a bit. soon enough he pulled away from you, smiling at your dazed expression.

“there you go.”

ending notes. i was kicking my feet and giggling btw.

#𝐾𝑂𝑇𝐴 𝑊𝑅𝐼𝑇𝐸𝑆 書く #jujutsu kaisen #anime #jjk #choso kamo #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso x reader #choso x black!reader #200 followers special

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inkykeiji · 10 months

Note

Cant stop thinking about 26. Sickness + flawless!Tomura

prompt: sickness warnings: daddy kink without the kinkiness, mention of drugs, tomu is a brat as always words: 832

A stifled sigh sits heavy and stagnant in Kurogiri’s chest, tender hands rearranging the damp washcloth folded over Tomura’s forehead, fingers brushing back stray strands of silver. A beep sounds from within his pocket, and he reaches for the thermometer shoved in Tomura’s mouth, glass clicking against his teeth as Kurogiri removes it, that suppressed sigh finally escaping his nostrils.

A fever of 101 degrees.

“I’m fine,” Tomura snaps, but it comes out as more of a whine, stringy and petulant. “Just gimme another bump and I’ll be good as new, promise.”

“This isn’t a cocaine withdrawal, Tomura,” Kurogiri says sharply, narrowed eyes glancing at his charge for a moment before refocusing on the glass thermometer between his fingers. “Though you’re going to get one of those, too, if this sickness progresses.”

“What?”

“You’re ill,” Kurogiri responds flatly. “A virus of some sort is my guess, though I’ll have Doctor Garaki stop by immediately to confirm.”

“No,” Tomura groans out the word long and drawn, head banging against the pillow, fluffy silver tufts bouncing with the motion. “Not that quack again.”

“He’ll be here in an hour or less.”

Despite Tomura’s protests, Doctor Garaki does arrive in under an hour, murmuring to a grumbling Tomura that he’ll only be a moment, and verifies Kurogiri’s suspicions within fifteen minutes.

“It is, indeed, a virus,” he tells you as he closes the door to Tomura’s bedroom. “Nothing to be too concerned about; it should sort itself out in a few days or so. Lots of rest, lots of fluids. If his fever climbs any higher, call an ambulance.”

On the other side of the door, Tomura lays restless in his bed, legs twitching and tangled in the heavy comforter, face scrunched in irritated discomfort as he shifts, flopping from his back onto his side with more aggression than necessary.

“Baby,” he whimpers when he notices you’ve entered, arms outstretched and yearning, a deep pout etched into his face. “Come cuddle with Daddy.”

You do as your told, ever his good girl, supposing that even Daddies need comfort from their little babies from time to time, too.

He latches onto you the moment you’re close enough, pulling you down and hugging you to his chest, his own personal teddy. He doesn’t look well, eyes sunken and encased in a sickly purple, normally chapped lips cracked open and embellished with dried blood, skin sallow and clammy, having lost most of it’s natural colour. Clumps of silver, damp with cold sweat, cling to his forehead, teeth chattering together delicately, jaw flexing as he tries to stifle the movement.

Frowning, your fingers find the hinges of his jaw, rubbing gentle circles into them.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” he huffs, nose scrunching up. “I hate this. My whole body fucking hurts; I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my bones and smashed them to bits.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, sighing a little as you feel his muscles loosen beneath your touch. “How can I help?”

“Just...Stay here with me,” he murmurs, voice having already lost its caustic edge, exhaustion seeping through his words and turning them wispy. “Jus’want you close.”

And so, you do.

Kurogiri is awe-inspiring in his ability to anticipate Tomura’s every want and need, a skill honed and sharpened to perfection over years of nurturing and raising the man, brewing a pot of homemade chicken noodle soup in addition to a whole pitcher of lemonade—a desperate attempt to keep Tomura adequately hydrated, since he refuses to drink plain water, vehemently claiming that it tastes like poison, face screwing up dramatically every time you or Kurogiri succeed in getting him to take a sip.

Even as Tomura’s brattiness intensifies with the worsening of his illness, Kurogiri stays mostly unperturbed, a special type of fondness saturating his features, laced with the slightest hint of typical exasperation. His tired eyes are kind, his soothing voice stern yet soft around the edges, his slim fingers gentle as they fluff pillows and pat sweat and tip glasses to withering lips.

You want to help, too, but Tomura won’t let you, demanding that you stay in bed with him and tend to his more pressing needs—massaging his throbbing temples and running delicate fingers through his now stringy hair and tracing nonsensical patterns across his sticky skin, tender ministrations smoothing out ragged breathing and hushing down sulky complaints.

Kurogiri promises you that it’s fine—he’s alright, he doesn’t need any assistance, really—and claims that you’re doing more good than he ever could with just your placating presence alone, lulling a grousing Tomura into a state of liminality, half-conscious and wavering between states of aching insomnia and fitful sleep.

“This is the calmest I’ve ever seen him while sick,” Kurogiri admits to you, voice barely above a whisper, as Tomura sleeps with his head in your lap. “Honestly, it makes caring for him abundantly easier. You’re the best medicine the Doctor could have prescribed.”

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki tomura fluff #thank you for sending in a prompt anon!!! i really appreciate it!!#pls enjoy this hehe he's so cute #have a wonderful tuesday n stay safe!#flawless universe #inky.bb #clari gets mail #inky.prompts

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once-in-a-blood-moon · 6 months

Note

Trick or treat!!

Solomon with MC's first time celebrating Halloween in the devildom (dressed up in costumes) and Sol is like "Halloween in Devildom is definitely much more fun! considering actual ghosts and ghouls are here" and MC actually gets scared lmao

Love your writings btw!! 🧡

Hi-hi! Thank you, I'm glad you like what I do! 🫶 Once again, the spinner gods were gracious, so you get a treat! Whoo! This turned out a little longer than I expected, but I do hope you enjoy!! 👻

Small warning of slightly gory depictions. Nothing major, but just in case!

Solomon x GN! reader

Halloween in the Devildom

“Come on, you look great!”

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not a matter of me looking great or not. It’s a matter of this being my first Halloween away from the human realm.”

About thirty days prior, you were disheartened when you spoke to Solomon that you’d have to miss the spooky festivities with your friends back home. He had sympathized and suggested he take you out to a small Halloween festival that was being held in one of the districts within the Devildom. And while the Devildom was spooky enough all year round, you were a bit nervous as to what to expect from demons trying to celebrate a human holiday.

Solomon nods at your hesitance. “I understand that this is a little different than what you’ve done in previous years, but I’ll make sure to stay by your side the entire night.” A small reassuring smile stretches on his lips. “I promise. We’ll have a lot of fun tonight - just you and I.”

The festival was in full swing, and it was quite lively at that. Many decorations scattered the sidewalks; there were carved pumpkins, large stringy webs that hung between lampposts, and assorted strands of colored lights, purple and orange, which reached from one end of the street to the other twinkled above your heads - to name a few. There were chattering crowds, various smells of food stalls that provided warm drinks and spooky treats, and the sounds of demons playing Halloween carnival-like games at the many booths that had been set up.

Solomon made sure to walk at your pace as you eyed everything that the Devildom had taken inspiration from the human realm traditions. Even he was impressed by the dedication and planning that went into this festival.

“So, what do you think? Not as bad once you’re out?” He questioned, leaning towards you so you could hear him over all the ruckus.

No, it wasn’t bad. It was certainly an exciting festival. The decorations and crowds were to be expected. However, the costumes… While you and Solomon chose the usual mildly spooky tropes often seen worn in the human realm, many of the demons went all out. Some of them used magic to create horrifying illusions along with their costumes, most of which were gory. You couldn’t count the number of times you saw the beating heart in the chest of a random demon on the street. The holiday of Halloween is a familiar part of human culture, but the way the demons dressed up for the occasion was almost a culture shock - or just a shock in general.

You kept your attention on the sights around you as you finally spoke. “It’s certainly something…”

Just then, you both pass by a booth that encourages those who play to throw an object at the target to dunk the demon sitting above a tank of water. The object in question was the apparatus of a severed head which belonged to the ghost running the game. You lurch forward slightly at the sight of demons waiting in line, laughing, rather than being greatly disturbed by the fact they are flinging the head of some random dead guy.

Solomon notices your wide-eyed stare, and he steps in your line of vision to hide the game behind him. Concerned about your well-being, he gently grabs your shoulders, trying to calm down your nerves, and perhaps, queasy stomach.

“Hey. We can leave if you don’t feel comfortable. There’s no shame in that.”

Your eyes refocus on him as you try to ground yourself after seeing such a shocking scene. “Uh…maybe that would be best. Yeah, okay.”

He offers you a comforting smile, showing no judgment on your decision. With consideration of your jumpy state, he takes your hand and leads you through some side streets that are empty to get away from the festival. Once you're both in the clear, now with only the sounds of your shoes on the cobblestone, Solomon speaks up.

“So, how about we go back to Purgatory Hall and watch some scary movies? We could invite Simeon and Luke to watch some with us.” He chuckles mischievously. “It might even be fun to see Luke all scared, am I right?”

Songs: What’s a Girl To Do? ~ Bat for Lashes, Necromancin Dancin ~ Bear Ghost, Transylvanian Concubine ~ Rasputina

#trick or treat event #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #jo writes #oh...looking at the prompt now i may have gone off the rails...oops #i promise i read it beforehand!#i still hope it's enjoyable #✨ or maybe it's just the anxiety talking and it's fine ✨

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jakekiszkasleftnutsack · 1 year

Text

Insomnia

Josh Kiszka x f!reader

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Summary: It’s challenging to maintain the status quo when on tour with your best friend and his rowdy band of brothers, and shacking up has brought about its fair share of speed bumps.

Warnings: 18+ GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, swearing, Sammy slander, bottom!josh, unprotected sex, somnophilia if you squint, fingering, teasing, desperation, a little fluff on top

W/c: 4.2k

A/n: This one shot is brought to you by this little request from a thousand years ago sorry, anon come get yo juice. Love you all so much, thank you for your support and keep those requests coming!

Edited by the ever fabulous @gretasamfeettt

Theme Song: Sleep Walk - Deftones

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

Knock, knock

You rap your knuckles quick and quiet against the unnaturally thick hotel room door.

“Josh!” You whisper in the harsh fashion of a scream. “Josh, it’s me, let me in!”

Normally you wouldn’t be bothering him this way since he’s very insistent on getting enough rest before show days, but in your current situation, you’re not exactly left with an array of options.

You’re standing barefoot in the hotel hallway clutching your bag to your pajama-clad chest. Strands of damp, stringy hair stick to your cheeks. Small beads of water drip onto your oversized t-shirt and the plush carpet below.

Knock, knock, knock

He’d only resigned to his room a little under an hour before you, you can’t imagine he’s already asleep.

“Josh, please wake up!” A bit more urgently this time.

When the door finally cracks open and your half-naked, groggy looking best friend blinks at you with the most disdainful expression you’ve ever seen, guilt instantly washes over you.

“I’m so so sorry, I know you said you wanted to turn in early but I didn’t know what else to do I just panicked! Sam came back, he just…” The word vomit rockets out of you a pitch or two higher than your normal speaking voice.

He listens wordlessly with narrowed eyes, from either contempt or the bright hallway lights, you’re not sure which. As he takes in the sight of you, disheveled and frantic, his expression shifts to a sort of concerned fear.

“Woah woah, y/n what the fuck? Are you okay?” He interrupts you mid-sentence, something he only does to you when trying to prompt you to arrive at your point.

Forcing yourself to take a deep breath for his sake and that of the situation that's found you still standing outside Josh’s door with no shoes, your next sentence is quite a bit calmer.

“I’m fine… Can I please stay in here tonight?”

“Are you kidding?” He opens the door wider so he can slip into the hall to wrap an arm around your shoulders and usher you into the room. “Tell me what happened.”

The room is shrouded in darkness as he helps you find the edge of the bed, and once you’re sat where he deems you safe he flicks on one of the bedside lamps attached to the wall nearby. He situates himself at your side, cross legged and facing you so he can take your hand in his. Eyes wide but oh so soft, his expression coaxes you into a state of comfort while also preparing for the worst.

“Y/n, please tell me what the fuck is going on so I can decide whether I need to knock my baby brother’s teeth in.”

“Calm down, it’s not like that.” You huff an exasperated giggle, because of course he would find a way to make you laugh. Even though you know he’s only half joking. “I told you I’m fine, he’s just a menace.”

“What else is new?” He snorts flatly, followed by what you think he might have intended to be a subtle eye roll. Ignoring him, you toss aside an eye roll and proceed.

“After you left we had another round, but then Jake and Danny wanted to keep going and Sam was talking to some girls, and I was tired so I just went back to my room.” Josh nods along, listening to every word carefully with knitted brows. “When I got back I wanted to shower, I was in there for like.. 10 minutes, until Sam was banging on my door. He had his arm around one of those girls from the bar and was begging me to switch rooms so he could ‘do the dirty’” you made exaggerated quotes in the air with your fingers, “his words not mine.”

He raises his eyebrows at you in delighted confusion. “And why didn’t you tell him to fuck off?”

“He said he lost his room key.. I just let them in so they weren’t standing in the hall while I put my clothes on, I left them alone for two seconds and they were already making out on the bed!” You’re talking with your hands so animatedly that he watches them fly about with a smirk, it’s a habit of his own that you subconsciously picked up after spending years around him.

“Okay, okay, but I still don’t get how you wound up at my door.” He bites his lip to stifle his laughter. The weight of the situation isn’t lost on him, but he’s always finding ways to rile you up and poke a bit of fun, you being so organically frazzled probably has him beyond tickled now that he realizes you were never hurt or in danger.

“I wasn’t about to stick around and watch, Joshua.” He loses his composure at the shrill of your berating tone when you punctuate his name, but you can’t help but chuckle right along. Though you feel foolish, you can’t ignore just how outrageous the whole ordeal probably sounds to him.

“Can’t say I blame you there.” He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye. “Remind me to tease dear Samuel in the morning, I’m not letting either one of you live this down.”

You jut out your lower lip in a puppy dog pout instead of answering. Though you know he’s trying to make light of Sam and his tomfoolery, the embarrassment that should be all his sits here on your cheeks. Sam would be getting the brunt of the jokes as soon as he’s not underneath his special friend, but still.

“Y/n, you are the worst negotiator I’ve ever met…” He trails off and shakes his head while searching your pouting features. The corner of his mouth quirks up but he otherwise looks on, it seems like he’s lost in thought, or maybe reading some fine print that’s shown up on your face. It’s safe to assume he’s just trying to hold back all the jokes swimming around in his little Joshua brain that are too harsh to say out loud.

Josh isn’t known for his self-restraint when it comes to keeping his thoughts to himself, but he’s always been a little more considerate of you and your feelings than he is with his brothers. For that, you’re grateful.

His phone rumbles against the bedside table disturbing his train of thought, you can see from the lit-up screen that he has a text from Danny. When he leans over to retrieve it you take the opportunity to find reprieve in the bathroom.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

You puff your cheeks and sigh at your reflection as you stand in front of the mirror. There’s makeup still smudged under your eyes from your shower, your hair has halfway dried in the air making the top frizzy from not being properly treated. The shoulders of your oversized band shirt soaked from where your damp hair sat atop them.

What a fucking headache, you think, as you promise yourself you’ll beat Sam’s skinny ass into next week.

You contemplate whether you could take him in a fight while you turn on the faucet to splash some cold water on your face. Blindly grasping, you reach for the closest towel and use it to wipe the sludge from under your eyes. Slowly, you’re starting to look less unhinged. You flip your hair over and use the towel to dry the ends as much as you can manage, there was no time to blow dry or run any product through it when your nighttime routine had been so rudely interrupted.

Opting not to sleep in wet clothes, you strip off your top and discard it on the floor since you have neither the care nor the energy to fold it neatly. You snatch up a white t-shirt of Josh's that had met the same fate as yours earlier in the night. It fits you mostly fine, apart from your tits filling out the chest. The fabric lies taut against them, and the color of your nipples slightly shows through when you check yourself out in the mirror. Paired with your barely there checkered shorts that allow your ass to peek out the back, you’re barely dressed.

Fuck it, it is what it is. You regard yourself before stepping back out into the room.

Still palming your hair through what was obviously meant to be Josh’s bath towel, you glance around taking in the room for the first time. The white light cast from the lamp barely reaches halfway across the room, but it’s enough to reveal his suitcase open and slightly picked through at the edge of the bed near where you had dropped your bag carelessly on the floor. The once pristine hotel sheets are drawn back and crumpled, confirming your suspicions that he was already tucked in when you arrived, maybe lightly snoozing with heavy eyelids. An image of the scene playing through your mind pangs that sliver of guilt again that you’re probably inconveniencing him. He would never admit something like that, even if it were true.

Josh is still cross legged on the bed and immersed in his phone, but something else piques your interest, replacing your previous thought almost entirely. Though Josh’s bed is slept-in, the identical one beside it is entirely undisturbed. Jake still hasn’t returned.

“What do the boys have to say?” You inquire about the text he seems very invested in typing out.

“Hmm?” He hums in response before looking up to where you stand in front of him. Almost as soon as he looks up from the screen, his eyes nearly fall out of his head when he makes direct eye contact with your chest.

He clears his throat. “I see you changed”

“Yeah, my shirt was pretty wet.” You bite your lip when his eyes linger a bit too long.

Josh has only looked at you like this a handful of times, in the way he knows he shouldn’t, in the way that friends just don’t look at their friends. Even though he’s only ever dared to look when he thought you were too distracted to notice, you’ve noticed his eyes on you when they should be elsewhere. But this? There’s no escape from this stare down for either of you, and it’s forcing you to look down the barrel of a gun that’s been pointed at you for years.

“Would you like to borrow my shirt?”

You could pretend not to notice, possibly ignore the situation entirely just as you’ve already done once or twice.

But where’s the fun in that?

“Yes Joshy, may I pweeeeeease borrow your shirt?” Hopping onto the bed next to him to sit on your knees, a little too exaggerated so your tits bounce more than necessary, you flash your sweetest smile.

He swallows hard, unable to stop his eyes from losing their focus on your face, but recovers fast. “Of course you can, thank you for asking me first.”

“You’re more than welcome, dickhead.” You snap back in your best sticky sweet yet sarcastic voice and purse your lips teasingly for good measure.

You’d be lying if you said you had never thought about Josh that way, the idea of him being so desperate to be near you is more than enough to ignite your mischievous side. Without directly asking him there’s no way to be completely sure of your hunch, but you know he’d forgive you if you were wrong.

Bringing the topic back around to your earlier question that he had curved, or maybe forgotten about entirely, you gesture to Jake's empty bed. “Where are the guys? That was Danny, right?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, um-“ He looks away, jostling his curls in the process, and hits the lock button on his phone before setting it facing down on the bedside table. “He just said not to wait up, Jake jumped on stage with the cover band at the bar so they might be out for a while still.”

“Hmm figures, okay. We should get some rest, you guys have a big day tomorrow.” You can’t help but roll your eyes at the thought of Jake’s ego. Deciding not to take up any more of Josh's night, you move to make your way over to Jake’s empty bed, but he places a hand on your arm to stop you.

“Ya know, we should- maybe we should leave Jake’s bed open for him, just in case…” You stare back at him blinking, processing his words and apprehensive expression. The timid nature he’s using to reach out to you is so unlike Josh, always the confident one. He almost seems embarrassed to be asking. “...If he stumbles back in here drunk I’d rather have you a safe distance from the fallout.”

You crack a smile. “Okay Josh, for safety.” Your eyes briefly lock before returning to where you previously were sitting.

You clamber up to the head of Josh’s bed and situate yourself under the white sheets as he slides in next to you. The two of you had slept in the same bed plenty of times, so there’s nothing out of the ordinary about it. A platonic sort of intimacy has always existed between you, Josh is very passionate, but you’re in uncharted territory now.

Somehow, in some way, Josh wants you and there’s no telling where this new development is going to lead.

He flicks off the light, leaving you in pitch darkness when he settles fully into bed. It’s a modestly sized queen, in true hotel fashion so it seems almost accidental when you adjust your position to nudge your backside into him. Your bodies are so ridiculously close without actually touching that you might be sharing a pillow by default. You throw a careless glance over your shoulder to find Josh's hand has been evicted from its resting place and is now hovering somewhere over your waist by default, rigid and unsure of where it belongs.

“Are you comfortable?” He asks in a jokingly mocking voice.

“Almost. You can touch me if you want to.” Like a scared animal he relaxes into you, his hand settles just above your hip and brushes over a small section of skin your shirt doesn’t quite cover.

Despite your fight to keep your eyelids from closing, the comforting scent and warmth of the bed welcome you into a dreamless sleep.

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

A muffled sound brings you to a hazy state of consciousness. It takes you a moment to come to, but it’s accelerated by a nearly imperceptible rocking motion whose origin you can’t quite discern. The sound repeats, coming from Josh who is stirring behind your back.

“Um, y/n?” His voice is shaking.

“Hmm? Everything okay?” Your tone is sweet and melodic, ignorant of the position he’s put you in. Closing the gap between your bodies, you adjust the smallest bit to investigate and firmly socket your backside against him in the process. At the same time, a carnal groan escapes him. Being that you’re still half asleep, the sound throws you off, almost frightening you.

What’s wrong? Is Josh hurt?

It’s then that he freezes, going stiff as a board when he realizes his mistake, and you realize that Josh has an iron grip on your hip and a fully erect cock nestled between your legs.

“Oh, god.. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have woken you.. I-I don't know what I was thinking. I’m sorry doll, please go back to sleep.” That panicked voice is back, so sad and filled with shame, you hate hearing it. You hate it so much that you want him to lock it in a box and throw it into the sea.

He shouldn’t be this scared of me.

“No, no it’s okay, keep going.” You place your hand over his before he can pull it away and guide it across your skin, helping him map the various dips and textures. Underneath the light fabric of your top, his soft hand eventually wanders on its own to find the swell of your breast.

He squeezes carefully at first, testing the waters with increasing intensity, and haphazardly circles his thumb over your nipple, sending shivers and goosebumps all over you as your nerves come alive. You whimper, causing him to freeze yet again.

“Are you sure about this?”

So apprehensive, so worried that he’s offended you, but you know the greedy truth lurking right behind the wall he’s put up to keep you safe.

“Aren’t you?” Maintaining your position, you slide your tiny shorts down your legs, and barely seconds later he resumes pleasuring himself against you. He moves his free hand from pinching your sensitive nipples down your stomach and into your panties to experiment with the slick that’s grown there.

“That’s right, good boy.” You rotate your own hips in tandem with his movements so his fingers catch on your clit with each circular motion.

“Jesus.. fuck. I want you, mama.”

Something about the way he said it, could have been the pleading desperation in his voice, the hungry bucking of his hips against your ass, or even the way his panting breaths have been radiating over you, but something tells you that what he really meant to say was ‘I fucking need you more than I need air to breathe, and I need you now’.

“Fucking A, Joshua.” You sit up and throw the thin blanket to the side, allowing you to rise to your knees and push him onto his back. There’s no version of this encounter where you’d let him shy away from the reality of it. Everything is out in the open between you, similar to his beautiful exposed cock that’s only visible because your eyes have adjusted to the darkness. You’ve seen it before circumstantially, but years ago when you were both very young. It’s smoother, and much prettier now that he’s done some growing.

Situating yourself over him, you let his member fall flat against his abdomen. You lower your sopping pussy to grind against it, letting it slot itself between your folds through the delicate lace and Josh’s noises of protest.

“Come on, Mama.”

When you divert your gaze to him rather than his cock, ready to scold him for whining, you’re face to face with each other for the first time since falling asleep in his arms. It’s perplexing seeing something so familiar through a different lens, and it’s written all over your faces like a small child seeing Christmas lights for the first time, alert and full of curiosity.

Just above those baby cow eyes, small beads of sweat appear on his brow and his moans have become decidedly more agitated, proving to you that he’s earned his reward. You pull your soaked panties to the side for him but remain hovering just out of reach. “Alright. If you want it so bad, take it.”

He double takes between your face to your cunt like he’s expecting you to cover yourself and say you’re just kidding with him, but when you don’t he accepts your words like a challenge.

Taking himself in his hand, he lines up with your core, only the very tip reaches far enough to dip slightly past the entrance. After so much anticipation he slides in with ease, just a slight lift and he’s falling apart underneath you. He stabilizes himself by holding onto your hips while he brings his own up to meet them. Your moans begin to match his with each powerful thrust straight to your center, and before long he’s struggling to maintain his composure. The pace dissipates, half thrusts start nudging your g-spot as the head slides back and forth stretching your walls.

“I can’t- I’m gonna cum.” He throws his head back on the pillow with his confession, and you can feel him start to tense as you tighten around him.

In one final act of mercy, you take over and ride him for a few pumps until your pulsating walls are milking hot ropes of cum from his cock. Even as he doubles over and pulls himself from you, one last shot lands on your own dripping sex. Immediately he reaches for your shirt, pulls it over your head, and uses it to clean up his mess from everywhere it may have landed.

“I didn’t need the shirt anyway.” You joke as he balls it up and tosses it somewhere on the floor to be thrown in the trash in the morning. He rolls his eyes and pulls you onto his chest while reaching for the blanket to cover your naked bodies.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that.” He sighs and pulls you down to perfectly settle against his skin.

“Well.. I have a pretty good idea.”

۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵♡۵

The sun shone through a slit that the curtains failed to cover directly onto your eyes, slowly bringing you out of a heavy but peaceful slumber. Josh is tucked neatly against your back, arm draped over your waist and one leg tangled between yours. A smile creeps its way onto your face at the position, he always was the cutest sleeper.

As carefully as you can, you lift the sheet and attempt to shimmy your way out of his grasp. He stirs anyway, and you immediately settle back into his touch, turning to face him as his eyes flutter open.

“Good morning, sweet girl.” He mumbles almost incoherently, closing his eyes again in favor of the darkness.

“Good morning, baby. Last night was not very ‘just friends’ of us, was it?” You tease through your smile.

“What ever do you mean? I always fuck the homies goodnight.” He mumbles again sleepily, but his playful inflection matches yours.

You giggle and place a peck gently on his lips, leading him to pull you tighter against him, humming in a pleased sort of way. You think he might’ve been waiting for physical reassurance from you that everything is fine, that he could touch you the way he wanted because he kisses you again.

When you both pull away, he smiles and stretches one arm out with a yawn. “What time is it?”

You shrug and turn towards the nightstand, reaching out for his phone since yours didn’t make the narrow escape from your hotel room. A double tap on the screen reveals the time to be an hour before his alarm is set to go off.

“Time for a quickie?” He’s lining up sweet slow kisses across your shoulders and back, and you hum agreeing to his proposition.

You let your eyes linger on the screen and bite back a chuckle when you notice his phone background. He must’ve recently changed it from what was a landscape portrait he took during the last tour to a snapshot you recognize as one taken by Jake outside a bar just the other day when the five of you got drunk in a city you’d never been to before. Sam was in the background yelling at something out of the frame while Danny rolled a joint on the curb, Josh sat next to him and you were lying down on the concrete sidewalk with your head in Josh’s lap. You smiled up at the camera, but Josh smiled down at you. His smile seems to hold new meaning now and that thought quickens your heartbeat faster than you can push it away.

A new text comes through his phone, obscuring the memory. It’s from Danny.

‘How’d it go?’

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