#the horror. the shock. the self disappointment.

[livinginshambles]

I'll reschedule | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: James faces the consequences of his actions. A confrontation goes wrong and you have a chat with Sirius.

Notes: Thank you guys for your kind comments! I hope I tagged everyone that wanted to be tagged. Also the parent part is very self-indulgent lmao

Part one Masterlist

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James spent the following days trying to get your attention and receiving a taste of his own medicine.

You gave him another smile that didn’t fully reach your eyes and he cursed at himself for somehow having your relationship feel so distant and awkward. He was your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake!

“I can’t, I’m-“

“-sorry, yeah. I know.” James almost let out a pained laugh at the irony of the situation.

‘Oh how the tables have turned,’ James bitterly thought to himself in defeat. You leaned forward as if you were going to give him a kiss, his heart jumping at the thought.

He realised in horror that he couldn’t recall the last time he had given you a proper kiss on the lips and could do nothing but watch in disappointment as you changed your mind mid-step and left for whatever it was that you had planned, with nothing but a small wave.

James spent the next day in class stealing glances at you. You noticed it of course, but couldn’t bring yourself to look back, humiliation at his words still lingering in the back of your mind. ‘Why are feelings so complicated’, you groaned in dismay.

You sighed and buried your face in your hands, arms propped up by your elbow on your desk. You’d talk to him tomorrow. Tomorrow was the last day before Christmas holidays. If everything went south, you’d be able to escape for two weeks. Not that you needed that back up plan. Everything was going to be fine.

Everything was not fine.

“You were eavesdropping on us?!” James shouted out, an offended look on his face and his hands thrown in the air. You visible winced at his loud voice.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the fact that of all the things you said, what you finally confessed about your feelings, that that’s what he picked up on.

You stared at him in disbelief for a moment. Your mouth open while you tried to look for words.

“You’re really going to- you know what? Yes. And I’m sorry for eavesdropping alright? In fact, I too would’ve preferred not to have heard you guys say those horrible things, but I did hear it all, and you did say all that,” you shot back angrily.

“But if you wanted me to back off and be less of a clingy, high maintenance attention demanding loner, then maybe, just maybe,” you stressed the word maybe. “You could’ve pulled me aside and told me you were embarrassed of me in private, instead of telling all your friends except for me! That’s not how a relationship works, that’s cowardice.”

“Oh so you’re an expert on relationships now?” He scoffed. “How would you know how relationships are supposed to work, I’m the first bloody friend and boyfriend you’ve ever had! If not for me, you would have no one.” He spat out the last sentence and as soon as it left his mouth, he clamped his mouth shut and took two steps back in disbelief at his own words. Regret immediately setting in.

Your face was heating up, in embarrassment and anger. You took a few steps back in shock as well. You wanted to yell at him, tell him that you’d become friends with your potions partner recently, that he wouldn’t know that, because he’d been acting like an arse with his head stuck up in it, but you didn’t. You didn’t want to fight. You took a deep breath.

‘Count to ten, Y/N.’

James opened his mouth and closed it again, no words coming out, still shocked at himself. He felt like he was in a daze, that this was a bad dream.

The silence was too much, the tension too high. He half expected you to reach out and slap him across the face, but also knew you wouldn’t. So instead he stood there frozen, awaiting your reaction.

James could feel blood rushing in his ears before you finally broke the silence.

“That’s not how a relationship works for me,” you repeated calmly but firmly, completely disregarding his insult. This time however, you emphasized the last two added words.

James seemed to sober up alarmingly fast at that. He shot up in panic and shook his head in denial. “No, I didn’t mean that. I didn’t mean any of it! I’m not embarrassed of you, Darling. I’m not, I promise,” he tried, finally finding the words.

He looked at you pleadingly and watched helplessly as you pulled a hand through your hair in a distressed manner, jerking away from him when he reached out to you.

It was quiet again in the room. The only sounds your heavy breathing.

“It’s not working for me.” You eventually whispered, hurt evident in your voice at your sad realisation. You said it more to yourself than to him, but his ears caught it anyway.

James’ heart skipped in fear. The implication of your words were crystal clear to him. It smacked him in square the face and had him physically reel back. He stumbled back into the nearest wall. It hadn’t even occurred to him that you two breaking up was ever a possibility. You were madly in love with each other. And he loved you so incredibly much, you knew that, right? He felt nauseous.

You didn’t spare him another glance and stumbled away, desperate to get away from him. James’ knees buckled and he sunk to the floor, shock keeping the tears at bay for now.

Everything was really not fine.

“Prongs! Welcome back mate, I heard you’re a free man again!” Sirius greeted James with a cheer and a slap on the back when entered the common room. Sirius was wearing a big grin on his face.

James jerked away and furiously shook his head. “No, she- we haven’t broke up,” He insisted. “We had a fight b-but, we never officially said we were done, so we’re still- she’s still my girlfriend. So don’t say that, it's not true-“

Sirius noticed how distraught James actually was about the situation and the grin abruptly fell off his face, making space for concern. He put his hand on James shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He threw a look at Peter and Remus who looked taken aback by his defensive tone, also looking concerned.

“Okay,” Sirius nodded. “She’s still your girl, Prongs. Understood.” James nodded back and then shook Sirius’ arm off his shoulder and went upstairs to their room, plopping down on his bed, smothering his head in his pillow where he could finally cry.

You took the train and left Hogwarts that very same day. You called your dad and he promised to come pick you up at the platform. When you saw him, the only one on the platform so late in the evening, you ran up to him and he held you tightly. “Come on, sweetheart,” he nodded in appreciation at the elf who brought your luggage and brought you home.

You sighed and plopped on your bed, face first into the mattress. Exhaustion downing on you all at once and you fell asleep within minutes.

Your mother knocked on the door, knowing that that sufficed as you were a light sleeper. “Honey?” She called. “I know it’s late, but I think you should eat something nonetheless.” You made a noise.

“That mean I can come in?”

You lift you head up so you could say yes and she came in with a bowl of soup. You gratefully accepted it and she took the liberty of sitting next to you.

“You want to tell me about it?”

“Not really,” you admitted and your mother gave you and understanding look. “Then we’ll keep you distracted for now. In fact, the day after tomorrow, your father and I are having dinner with the Black family. You could come with us.”

“But it’ll just be all business talk,” you groaned, placing your bowl of soup on your night stand.

“Yeah, well you know the Black family is the main investor in your father’s business, business talk is unavoidable. But you know what, it wouldn’t be just business. They said that they would love to meet you.”

‘Doubtful,’ you thought.

“I’ll think about it.” You replied.

“That’s okay, you have another day to consider it.” And with that, your mother kissed your forehead before leaving your room, taking the empty bowl with her. “Goodnight honey,” she said before closing the door gently. ‘Sirius was always spending his holidays at Hogwarts, so it’d be safe to go,’ you considered.

‘So the fates are really into proving me wrong, lately huh,” you thought to yourself as you spotted Sirius with a scowl on his face, standing with his parents in front of their manor to great you.

And so, before you know it, you were sitting at the end of the ridiculously long table, in front of Sirius. You wondered where his younger brother Regulus was. “Let the children sit together, business is boring to them anyways,” you father had said.

Though he hadn’t been wrong, you would pay to be part of the adult talks rather than sit here in awkward silence, avoiding Sirius’ eyes.

The past three days had been a rollercoaster for Sirius. First, he had been mildly annoyed at the letter that came with an owl that belonged to his mother. Then, he had been absolutely dreading going home. He also felt bad and concerned for James, because he was being a sad pile of bones. And when he saw you, surprise and guilt seeped in. A real rollercoaster.

Sirius kept staring intensely at you. Finally, you’ve had enough and you snapped at him. “What do you want.”

“I need to talk to you, privately.”

“Why would I talk with my ex's best friend?We have nothing to talk about, and I’d rather die than be in a room alone with an arsehole like you.”

“You’re not his ex.” He pointed out.

You raised your eyebrows at his words, inquiring him to explain himself.

“You’re not- You two are still together. I mean, you never officially said it was over. You’re still his girlfriend, he’s still your boyfriend. James is still holding on to that.” Sirius searched your face for reactions to that confession but found nothing.

“Fine, I guess I’ll just officially send him an owl then,” you replied dryly, done with his crap. You threw your napkin on the table and got up. You excused yourself, thanked Sirius’ mother for the food and walked out of the room. So much for this being a distraction from James.

“Wait, Y/N!” Sirius yelled out as he chased after you. You kept walking, neither slowing down, nor speeding up, as you walked in the direction of your house, despite knowing that it was an hour drive by car.

A heavy silence hung between you two as he walked next to you, both staring out in front of yourselves.

“It’s my fault.”

Now this made you look up at Sirius. You eyed him up and down sceptically, coming to a stop. “Don’t give yourself so much credit, Black. You’re definitely not my favourite person on this planet, but despite you talents at DADA, last I checked, you can’t cast the Imperio curse yet.” Sirius refrained from grinning at your retort.

“So unless you’re telling me that you’ve been using the polyjuice potion and posing as James Potter who has been a massive twat of a boyfriend for over a month, I highly doubt it’s your fault.” With that, you continued walking again.

“No, and no. You’re right, I guess.”

“I am.”

Sirius gave you a look and tried again. “Look, he was just all over you. And maybe I had to get used to Prongs being a taken guy, all mushy, but we all missed him. So I teased him a little,” he explained but hesitated at the end.

“You teased him a little,” you flatly repeated. “You teased him and it turned him into an asshole?”

“It was just a bunch of guys laughing about our whipped friend,” he paused. “Okay and some complaining,” he admitted. “I didn’t know he would straight up go to avoiding you because he was embarrassed to show affection in front of us though.”

You massaged your temples. “Okay first of all, you suck and you’re a shitty friend.” Sirius pulled a face. “Eh, deserved,” he scratched the back of his head.

“But my point still stands. James chose to lie to me by making up excuses to not have to be around me.” You huffed in frustration. “I’m not... I’ve never been in a relationship before, but I’m pretty sure that’s like, rule number one of things not to do.” You kicked against a pebble on the road.

“And then he goes and says horrible stuff about me behind my back. That’s probably rule number two,” you added, a frown on your face at the recollection of events.

“But if that wasn’t enough, he didn’t listen to me when I told him how I felt about it and instead yelled at me, trying to shift the blame on me, as if it’s my fault that I overheard you guys. Oh and also, he insulted me again! Though, in my face this time, I’ve got to give him that.” You mumbled the last part bitterly and looked back up at Sirius who awkwardly looked at his feet while listening to you rant.

“So no, Sirius. You were a shitty friend, but by no means the cause of our break up. That’s on James.”

“Please, you don’t understand,” Sirius pleaded again. “James is miserable alright? As in he’s kind of being pathetic right now, he refuses to believe you guys broke up. He keeps insisting that you’re still together, that he still has a chance to make up to you.”

It was your turn to look at your feet. Sirius continued. It was his turn to talk now and he felt he needed to help his friend. “He loves you so much. He really misses you.”

You wryly smiled at Sirius. “He tell you to say that?”

“No. Well, not explicitly.” Sirius patted his back pockets and fished a crumpled envelope out of it. He handed it over. When you opened it, you found a folded piece of paper that simply said ‘I am so sorry. I miss you and I love you so much.’ In James’ handwriting. You sighed.

“Look, I’m just trying to help my git of a friend who is madly, hopelessly in love with you. And I’m trying to make things right between you two because I am partially at fault. And I know you love him. He’s just being an big idiot.”

“Try ginormous.”

Sirius now openly grinned. Okay maybe you weren’t so bad after all.

“Will you please talk to him? I’m sure he will apologize because he regrets everything. I know he does. And if you decide you don’t want to be in a relationship anymore, you tell him. Just not by sending an owl right now before talking one more time, please.”

A car sounded its horns behind you and you turned around to see your mother and father. The car stopped next to you and the door opened. You turned to look at Sirius again. “Will you see James before I do?” You asked. Sirius nodded.

You handed him the envelope back. He hesitated to accept it. “Give him this. Don’t worry, I’m not breaking up with my boyfriend. I’ll talk to him at Hogwarts.” You reassured him.

Relieved at your words, Sirius took the envelope and you gave him a thumbs up. “You’re not so bad, Black,” you said as you got in the car.

“Back at you!” He called after you. He watched your car drive off.

He checked inside the envelope and found the folded piece of paper. When he unfolded it, he found a uno reverse card stuck in between.

James was nervous. He impatiently paced around on platform 9¾, having arrived there way too early. Sirius had moved in with him over the holidays, running away from home and had brought a certain envelope with him. James heart had leaped when he found your card, putting it carefully under his pillow at night, carrying it in his pocket during the day.

“Merlin, Prongs would you just stand still,” Sirius commented from where he sat, leaning against a wall, cigarette twirling between his fingers.

“I can’t, Padfoot. This is literally the moment that will define the rest of my life!” James exclaimed dramatically, but walked over to Sirius and plopped down next to him anyways, mimicking Sirius’ action by twirling the game card around.

“Mate, you’ll be fine. She literally let you know she loved you too.” He nodded at the object James’ hands.

“But what if she loves me, but realised that she wants to be with someone who hasn’t acted like a stupid idiot?” James’ heart was racing at the thought. He’d spent the entire first week wallowing misery.

Other students started to arrive at the platform and James got back up to start pacing around again.

You softly pushed him away and immediately, the stream of self-deprecating words, apologies and other rambles flowed out of James’ mouth. You pecked his lips again to shush him.

You spotted each other at the same time. You offered him a hesitant smile but it was enough for James to take off in a sprint towards you.

He stopped in in front of you, unsure and apologies ready on the tip of his tongue. Someone called your name behind you and you looked back to see Wylan.

Turning to face James again, you offered him a fond expression and tiptoed to press a peck to his lips. James immediately responded to the kiss and he sighed in relief, shoulders less tense.

“We’ll talk later, okay?”

No, not okay, he wanted to say but you cut him to it.

“I’ve got a friend waiting for me,” you beamed up at him in pride and he melted at the sight. “Okay,” he relented, making a mental note to tell Remus and Peter to apologize to you too.

“You’ll let me know when you have time?” He asked.

“I’ll make time for you,” you assured him. “We’ll talk after supper, if you don’t have any plans of course,” you teased.

James shook his head laughing. “I won’t,” He replied earnestly.

“You don’t know that! Like what if a famous Quidditch player wants to meet you after supper, huh? Then what?” You challenged him. He shrugged.

“I’ll reschedule.” He grinned.

You shake your head and leaned in to press a kiss to his cheek. He watched you head in the direction of your Ravenclaw friend who had his back turned to you and walked back to Sirius.

“Wylan!” You skipped over and slung an arm around him, ruffling his already messy hair. He looked up as if he’d been caught doing something wrong and relaxed with a smile when he saw it was just you. You laughed at his skittish behaviour. “So how was your holiday?”

“I actually got a book on alchemy for Christmas. I brought it with me, thought maybe you’d help me?” He asked nervously, a bit embarrassed at his request.

“Oh none of that,” you waved your hand at his antics. “I’ve been helping you with dyslexia for a while now, of course I’ll help!” He offered you a grateful smile.

“You have it with you now?”

Wylan nodded and pulled out a ridiculously heavy book. You whistled. “Better get started on that right away, huh. We should find a seat.”

You two moved to get on the Hogwarts Express, but before you disappeared inside, you looked back at James to see he did the same thing. You exchanged smiles, he dramatically made a deep bow and mouthed ‘milady’. Then he turned around and pumped his fist in the air, grinning from ear to ear.

Sirius patted James on the back when he returned. “See, nothing to worry about. Right back to snogging your girl,” he laughed out loud, but no malicious intent this time.

“Still a long way to go, though,” James admitted, but he wore a fond smile on his face at the thought of you, all giddy inside. “But we’ll be alright, I think. I’ll be the best bloody boyfriend out there you know. You better get used to the snogging. And be nice to her, she really means a lot to me.”

Sirius pushed him. “I’ll have you know that we’re on extremely good terms now,” he exaggerated.

James snorted. “No, you’re not,” he immediately said.

Sirius grinned, having fun riling him up. “Why don’t you go ask her yourself, if you don’t believe me.”

James and Sirius walked towards their own compartment where they waited for Peter and Remus, arguing about it.

About two months later, Gryffindor had won the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. You ran down the stands and up to James, jumping in his arms. He fiercely kissed you, his friends and teammates hollering at him.

“Good luck charm,” he cheekily mumbled against your lips while flipping the others off, earning laughter. When the celebratory party was finally over, and the marauders and you retreated to their dorm, James instantly pulled you onto his lap, locking you in with his arms wrapped around you so tightly that you wriggled to get some air. Jokingly, you tapped out three times in mock surrender.

“And the winner is...”, Sirius drumrolled. “James Potter!” Remus and Peter jokingly clapped and cheered.

“Means you can let her breathe now, Prongs.” You mouthed a thank you at Sirius.

James pouted, offended. “Since when are you two such good buddies,” He complained.

Sirius stuck his tongue out. “Wouldn’t you like to know, lover boy. I told you, Y/N and I are on extremely good terms now.” He winked at you.

“Thought you’d be more happy that your girlfriend and brother could get along. I mean, figured it won’t be long until she becomes my sister-in-law.”

@moonyslibrary98 @wildernessflora @fanboyluvr @spiderman-stilinski @magical-spit @livelaughlivedilfs @nyenye @fluffybunnyu @prongs-moon @xcinnamonmalfoyx @akila-twt @treestarrrrrrrr @mrsmaybank13 @ireallywannasleep127 @imarimon @targaryenmoony @jessicamellarky @scriptsofthorns @lynbubble @variant-lokitty @elsie-bells @chichi3095 @my-beloved-fandoms @quackitysdrugdealer @pleasingregulus @mindflay3r @littlenerdybee

#james potter x fem!reader #james potter x reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter fluff #marauders era #james potter #james potter angst #james potter fic #james potter imagine #marauders fanfic #marauders

[getyourdirtyhandsoffme]

D-RIDING?! PART ONE

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

GENDER: FTM READER

SUMMARY: You are quite a popular YouTuber who makes random content for your fans to enjoy until one day you got drunk and "accidentally" posted a tweet in your official account making it go viral for not only the world to see, but even a certain idol you had a crush since 2019.

GENRE(S): Comedy, Fluff, A bit explicit (in part one), hurt/comfort a bit

WARNING(S): Didn't really proof read it or use a Grammer site to fix anything. If I got anything wrong well..ill fix it when I'm not tired (or not). If you haven't seen any BuzzFeed's thirst tweets, you have been warned. The reader is going through every stage of grief. Mentions of drinking, you being drunk, mentions of "Dick Riding", a few of thirsty comments. You're getting called "Pretty Boy." Explicit comments but nothing action, yet. You are a bottom (sorry y'all!) Kinda cringe. You fanboying non-stop.

CAREER: Idol-Bang Chan (26) + Youtuber-Y/N (25)

OTHER(S): all edited by me. Chan has a private channel but he did reveal his YouTube account in this story. Ethan, Antione and SanaVana are your best friends.

Some mistakes on the edits as well but wtv

Please reblog, like or/and comment!

(We are going to pretend this is around SKZ LALALA Era, thank you very much! Not restarting the edits!)

You couldn't believe your eyes when you opened Twitter (Or X...) As you see thousands of notifications of a certain post you made when you were drunk with your friends at a birthday party.

You felt yourself wanting to scream but all you could do is stare in shock, having your mouth hanging a bit while reading the comments stating that your idol, Bang Chan from StrayKids, read your tweet.

Not in private, but apparently he finally accepted an interview with BuzzFeed to read Thirst Tweets.

Since when did he have the balls to do that?

You groaned as you even saw the hashtags that were trending: #YnnityD-RIDE #BangChanThirstTweets #BuzzFeedBangChan #YnnityMoment

You honestly wanted to cry because you didn't know how to face your fans when you make a live stream later. You promised the fans that you were going to play that one horror game that your fans have been requesting.

At this point, you thought about just cancelling it while disappearing. Dramatic but you couldn't help it.

The Bang Chan read your tweet.

Well, you never saw the video and honestly you didn't want to. You found out that your tweet was not only read but even edited into the thumbnail with Bang Chan fine ass self beside it from a friend's screenshot.

You were mentally regretting this while weeping but you didn't want to disappoint your fans from a promise you made so you calmed yourself as you got ready to Go Live.

You place your mouse pad down and then connect a few wires into your computer. You went to your channel as you Go Live, with a title going by "Gaming and reacting to a certain video."

Just by that title, everyone immediately clicked the live.

You sat there, nervously biting your lip out of habit while fixing yourself in front of the camera.

You even waved to everyone while trying not to seem like you about to trust fall on top of a building.

"As you may see from this title, you probably know what certain video I'm going to watch, yes?"

Everyone commented "yes" while a few sent question marks but other than that they are curious of what the video is and my reaction.

"I didn't see the video yet but I immediately clicked on the app, saw my notifications, saw what's trending and even a screenshot from my friend. I am crazy embarrassed. I was drunk and the fact that she saw me tweeted this is the most crazy part. I knew she was my enemy since DAY ONE!" You shouted a bit at the end, joking but honestly not really as you make a dramatic 'number one' finger in front of the camera.

"Anyways, I already got it set up, just let me know if you guys can hear it or not..."

You mentally screamed as you tried to click on the video but you were so hesitant that the fans called you out on it.

"Y'all, we got it! Hold up, I'm just scared of how he is going to react! Ahhh!" You grabbed your forehead as you finally clicked on it.

You watched as Chan nervously laughed at the camera while introducing himself with his hot Australian accent. You felt yourself smiling as you tried not to fanboy just by his introduction.

"Ah, Hello everyone and my lovely stays! My name is Bang Chan, the leader of StrayKids, you can even call me Chris, and today...I'm finally reading your crazy thirst tweets. I don't know how I mentally agreed to this but I am curious so let's get started shall we, BuzzFeed?"

Chan chuckles nervously as he holds a plastic container full of thirst tweets.

You commented how cute he was while admiring him, ignoring slightly at your fans chat box, even not noticing a certain someone has joined your live stream and even commenting as well making the chat go crazy as they try to grab for your attention.

You continue on watching, make a few comments on the thirst tweets, stating that you agreed with half of the tweets he was reading while cooed on his blushing face:

"I want to ride his big nose"

"I wonder what else is big besides his nose, feet and butt if you know what I'm saying"

"I want that man to manhandle me so bad, it's not funny anymore."

"I want him to fuck me so bad! Uhhh PLEASE DADDY!"

You couldn't help help but laugh at a few, almost forgetting that your tweet was in this video until finally, almost at the end of the video, he pulls the last strip of paper and reads:

"Dick Riding? Yes I am. I'm jumping, hopping, creaming, screaming and latching...onto this man dick until we can't anymore. And in parentheses. We not stopping."

Chan covers his face while laughing as he re-reads the tweet again.

"Jeez, this person really must have that much energy to be going in several rounds. Not only that, this person is verified...how confident you are to send this in your official account. Not gonna lie, I feel like I know who this is..."

He squints as he tries to remember.

"I'll probably figure it out later but thank you! I don't think I have enough energy for that but we can try, yeah? Haha!"

Your eyes wide as you literally scream, jumping around and running around the room then stop running as you walk back, rewatching that clip again.

"Wait, he knows me? HE RECOGNIZES MY ACCOUNT- WAIT WHOA!" That's when you sat down on your gaming chair, literally looking like you were about to sink into the floor as you make your eyes focus on the chat that seems to be spamming non-stop.

You lean in, reading the chat as you questioned them what's wrong until you notice a channel you recognized. Of course who wouldn't recognize it, you literally have a crush on him.

The one and only Bang Chan was watching your live.

At this point, you just accepted your fate as you face palmed yourself as more comments started laughing at you.

"Om my goodness, this cannot be real. Ain't no way you are watching this stream..." You nervously said as you see him commented how cute you were.

You smiled as you started to fanboy again.

"This is so embarrassing you guys!"

Time went by as you ended your live stream. You immediately grabbed your phone and laid down on your bed as you opened Twitter (X) to see Bangchan following you.

You followed him back immediately which I guess it got his attention as he immediately texted you.

CB97: Hey, Y/N! It's nice to finally meet you, well through text that is, haha!

Ynnity: I can't believe you not only read my tweet and joined my live, you even FOLLOWED ME IN HERE!? You must be crazy!

CB97: Of course, I even have you subscribed and followed your Instagram on a private account!

CB97: And crazy? Aren't you the crazy one who sent a tweet on your official account stating you wanted to, and I quote, "Jump, hop, cream, scream, and latch onto my dick non-stop" pretty boy?

Ynnity: HELLO?

CB97: Haha, I'm just saying. Plus, you're funny so why not become friends. I'm quite a big fan of you!

You stared at his text, mostly the part when he called you a "Pretty boy" made you roll around the bed, giggling like a damn school girl. Even surprised that he was a big fan, making even more embarrassed since you always mentioned him in certain videos.

Ynnity: Sure!

Ynnity: hope you don't mind how awkward I'm going to be for a bit..I'm still embarrassed.

CB97: That's fine! I don't mind and there isn't anything to be embarrassed about baby, it's cute how you reacted

CB97: You really do love me, huh? Hahaha

You rolled your eyes as you typed your response.

Ynnity: yeah yeah whatever

CB97: Acting like that even though I literally watched your live stream and saw you admiring and commenting my every move

CB97: Anyways, I read a few of your tweets and one caught my eye

CB97: well, besides that thirst tweet, that's my fav-

CB97: That you are going to see our concert, yeah?

All you did was send a 'thumbs up' emoji, indicating that it was true that you saved up money to be in front row seats to see SKZ performance on the 3rd day.

CB97: Cool! Can't wait to see you in person! However, I need to get back to work, I'll talk to you...well you text me when you are up! Bye bye, pretty boy!

YNNITY: don't overwork yourself old man and yes bye bye to you as well!

You laughed when Chan sent a 'thumbs down' emoji as you turned off your phone, smiling again at the ceiling. You couldn't believe it, you can't wait to go to their concert in three days.

Two days have already passed as you already got dressed up for this concert.

Today is the 3rd and last day of their performance.

You are wearing a black waist coat where your belly and other skin is showing along with a leather black jacket, baggy black pants with a nice star belt around It, a spikey silver necklace and black shoes.

You brought a coat just in case it gets cold as you took pics and uploaded it onto Twitter (X), feeling cute.

You rolled your eyes at your friend's immediate response to your tweet as you walked out of your house, stepped into your car as you get ready to pick up the three dorks.

While driving to their destination, you couldn't help but think about what Chan texted you yesterday.

He is excited to see YOU.

You were biting your lip as you tried to not show a smile when you picked up Antione and apparently Ethan who were standing outside of Antione house, waiting.

They both ran inside, Antione taking the front row while Ethan sit in the back.

You then drove off again to pick up Savannah while the two teased you non-stop about getting noticed by your so called 'Future Husband' which they did stop after you threatened them that you will crash this car if they don't shut up.

You finally picked up Savannah who was excited to see StrayKids, mostly seeing all the pretty lady fans as she comments about wanting to see this one girl that she has been texting the last 5 months.

You laughed with your friends, easing your anxiety down. You all couldn't wait to go while singing, well trying to sing, the songs on the radio.

You all made it into the concert, immediately at the front seat, waiting for the concert to start. Antione had his banner ready, holding a sign that says "Changbin, date me!"

Ethan holds up a LeeBit Plushie, shaking it around while holding a picture of Lee Know next to it.

Savannah holds a sign that just says "The Lesbians (Me) loves you!"

You did think about bringing a sign but all you brought was yourself and friends along with a small Wolfchan keychain hanging around your belt area.

A bunch of fans have showed up—some recognized you as they asked to take pictures, which of course you said yes, taking a few while waving them goodbye. Even Savannah gets to meet the woman that she was talking about, laughing and flirting a bit.

As all of you continue on chattering while the whole stadium gets filled with a bunch of fans, the screens turn on showing a special StrayKids clip, showing all the members walking and posing.

Everyone screams along with you and your friends as well as you see them rising up from below the stage, into positions, ready to perform Megaverse.

You smiled, jumping a bit as the loud music started playing along with fans chanting.

You took out your phone as you started to record while singing some of the lines.

Throughout the whole concert, you and Chan were flirting around when he found you while performing Blind Spot.

He couldn't help but smile in your direction while giving you small hearts. He even goes up to you sometimes, singing a few lines—teasing you—as he walks off.

Even your friends teased you about it, again.

The concert was about to end, your whole body was practically tired from all the screaming and standing up for too long but it was worth it.

All the members lined up as they all said their thankful speech, waving all of them goodbye and couldn't wait to see their fans again next time.

You and your friends left as you forced Ethan to drive since you were so tired.

You were sitting in the front row while Antione and Savannah talked amongst themselves, sometimes Ethan joining in. While that was happening, you open Twitter to see a bunch of notifications again.

Some @ you, showing pictures with your fans along with pictures or videos of you having a moment with Chan.

You smiled as you liked all of them until you got a text from Chan, you clicked the message notification and read what he has sent you.

CB97: Hey, did you enjoy the concert?

CB97: Also you look very handsome with that outfit, very alluring.

You giggled quietly as you quickly replied to him.

Ynnity: of course I enjoyed the concert and thank you! I did say I was trying to attract people in my tweets~

CB97: You did.

CB97: You even got me as well, that one comment from your friend made me laugh that you wanted to be in my Dingie Doom Dum haha!

Ynnity: Well, what if I do? What you going to do about it hm?

Not sure where all that bravery came from but you did it. You waited for him to respond as you did see him trying to type something.

CB97: Well aren't you a brave one.

CB97: why don't you find out. I'll come to you unless you are just trying to flirt. I don't mind as long as you don't mind, love

CB97: I can make that thirst tweet into reality~

You froze as Ethan made it to his house. Seems like you were the only one left as you both stepped out, hugged each other and left.

You stepped back into your car, turning it on and drove off. You wanted to respond, but you didn't want to drive while text so you kinda drove home as fast as you can, feeling yourself getting too excited.

When you made it home, you quickly parked as you stepped out of the car and ran to the front door of your house, unlocking it.

You took out your phone again and responded to him.

Ynnity: Sorry, I was driving

You hesitated for a bit even though you were the one who started it until you finally typed out what you wanted to say.

Ynnity: I don't mind, but how are you supposed to get here? You rented a car?

You took off your shoes, placing them on a shoe rack as you take off your clothes while walking to your bedroom.

You dumped your clothes in a laundry bag, opening the closet to grab your pajamas then walked to the bathroom to take a shower.

Your phone buzzed. You grab and see what he has said.

CB97: I did actually.

CB97: Send me your location, I will be there after I take a shower

You bit your lip as you sent your location, turning your phone off after that.

You step inside the shower, feeling the nice warmth of water hitting your skin as you fantasize about Chan kissing you and touching you.

You wanted this and the fact it's with your idol crush turns you on. You couldn't wait as you continued on taking a shower.

TO BE CONTINUED...

PART ONE -> PART TWO (COMING SOON)

I never wrote smut before 🐺 this sht gonna be crazy. I'm about to fight for my life.

#ftm reader #male reader #x ftm reader #x male reader #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz imagines #straykids x reader #gay #straykids x male reader #bangchan x male reader #bang chan x reader #bang chan x male reader #bang chan #bang chan x you #skz x reader #bang chan skz #x bottom male reader #bottom male reader #kpop stray kids #kpop x male reader #MR.OFFSTORY #x male readers #bang chan fanfic #bangchan #bangchan fanfic

[gay-dorito-dust]

Jaime Reyes x girlfriend reader where she bought or found a beetle as a joke please 🪲

My kind of humour right there ngl 🦦🪲

I honestly didn’t know what to end this off with so if this comes off kinda goofy and dumb, then let it be goofy and dumb.

Entomophobia - the fear of insects.

Part 2

‘WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!’ Jaime screeched as he clung to your side, staring down the small blue critter that was mindlessly scuttling the expanse of the desk in your room, with a bug eyed expression while you stood there unfazed before shrugging your shoulders.

‘A mint blue beetle that I had found a while back.’ You answered nonchalantly as you left Jaime cowering by his lonesome as you wandered over to where the beetle was and carefully ushered it into your awaiting palm, before then turning back towards your freaked out boyfriend whom only looked even more freaked out. ‘I can see that’s a beetle but why do you even have that in your house?! Better yet, when did you find the time to look for one?! No that’s not important, what’s important is when was this idea brought about and -did I forget to mention- why?!’ Jaime squawked, almost tripping over his own feet as he tried to attempt to widen the gap that you were so adamantly trying to close.

When you asked him to come over, this wasn’t what he had in mind…

‘You brought that disappointment upon your self Jaime.’ Khaji-Da told him in his mind as the scarab decided to made it’s presence known, much to Jaime’s chagrin. ‘Oh yeah, I sure did, but I should’ve been at least given a warning prior at the very least.’ Jaime muttered, making sure that you didn’t hear him as he spoke back to the scarab. ‘I’m pretty sure I’ve just developed Entomophobia.’ He adds on in a whine just as his lips formed into a pathetic pout.

‘How can you possibly fear such an inferior being Jaime Reyes?’ The scarab practically scoffed at it’s host’s dramatics. ‘We have faced more difficult hardships then this, but if your so perpetually frightened of the damage this insect can do then I shall have not choice but to terminate-‘

‘Those questions will all be answered in due time, so say hello to little blue!’ Your voice cuts Khaji-Da off and Jaime almost felt his soul jump out of his skin when he noticed how close you have gotten in the time he spent talking to the scarab and automatically took a step back; only to realise his shock and horror that he had subconsciously backed himself into a wall and all of a sudden.

‘Jaime?’

‘Jaime?’

…

‘Oh dear, I’m sorry little blue but it looks like he has collapsed.’

#dc x you #dc imagine #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc imagines #dc comics #dc x reader #blue beetle fanfic #blue beetle imagines #blue beetle imagine #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle x you #blue beetle fic #jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes fic #jaime reyes imagines #jaime reyes fanfiction

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

His girl.

Pairing; Austin!Elvis x reader

Warning: STEP-INCEST! Yandere Austin!Elvis, Creampie, Forbidden love, Asshole boyfriend, Love confessions, Slut-Shaming, Forced filming, Mentions of murder, Gagging, Fingering, Forced cleaning, Innocent kink, Squirting, Humiliation kink, Meanie Elvis/loving Elvis, Innocent and naive reader, Dacryphilia.

Summary: You were Elvis Presley's little sister, his step-sister but it still counts! When your parents left to have their honeymoon vacation they left your big brother Elvis in charge and he swore that it was his job to protect you, even if it meant from yourself..

You tried to hide your excited smile as your parents told you about going on their honeymoon your brother leaning against the entrance of the dining room, his eyes bore into your happy buzzing self but you just ignored him. You were so happy, you can finally show your boyfriend that you were a woman and not a prudish little girl! You could finally show him that you were serious about him! "And Elvis is in charge while we're gone." Your mother broke you out of your daze 'What?' "But Mama I can take care of—" you started to protest but the feeling of your big brother's warm big hand on your shoulder stopped you "Don't worry Ma'am, I'll keep er safe." Elvis smiled, his charming smile that could make the toughest woman swoon and your mother did just that.

'Okay it's a minor setback but I'll think of something' you thought with determination, you promised to show Johnny that you loved him, and you couldn't go back now.

God, you were just cute, with that little pout, Elvis would do everything to make you happy, you were so precious and innocent unlike most of the women of your age, he wanted to protect you but some twisted part of him wanted to corrupt you, having you under him, mewling and moaning, make you his wife, his woman but he couldn't you were his little step-sister and he couldn't betray his father like that. You and Elvis waved goodbye to your giddy mother and father, once they were out of sight you headed up to your bedroom, saying you wanted to talk to your best friend barely staying to hear what your brother had to say in the matter. You called your boyfriend to tell him the great news and as expected he was just as excited about it as you were, he said he'd be there in 15 mins, which give you enough time to get ready.

Elvis knew something was up but he wanted to trust you, really just a nagging feeling kept bugging him. It got too much he decided to see what his good little mama was doing but nothing could prepare him for the anger he felt as moans and groans left your closed door which by the way broke a rule he placed in his house. Elvis took a breath and pushed the door open to peek in and if he thought he was angry before then what he was feeling was undeniable rage. Your limp-pencil-dick boyfriend was thrusting into you in a sloppy frenzy, close to cumming and you were obviously disappointed, unsatisfied, and miserable. He slammed the door open, you screamed out in shock and horror at seeing your handsome brother "What the fuck man?!" your boyfriend turned to curse elvis but stopped at the cold-deadly stare he wears "Camera." He asked cool, calm, and collected, the Calm before the storm "Closet." you answered with a shaky tone "You, go get it, yar goin' film how A man pleases a woman." Elvis order your boyfriend, and he didn't take it so well "Like hell!" Johnny shouted and that was it, Elvis walked over grabbed your boyfriend by the back of his shirt, and yanked him off you, his other hand gripped around johnny's throat "You wouldn't want everyone to know what ya did to that girl? that's right I know." Elvis whispered so you couldn't hear "So be a good lil' boy and get it."Elvis shoved Johnny towards the closet with much force that your boyfriend's face smacked into the door before he stumbles back to get the camera while Elvis took his clothes off slowly as if to tease you like he knew..

As if he knows your feeling about him, the dreams you daydream, the dream of being his cute housewife and stay-at-home mother, going on dates, that he knew you didn't want this to stop, you wanted him. Elvis loomed over your naked body, his clothes laid on the floor and his hardened cock lay against your pelvis bone, Johnny held the camera in his shaky hands. Elvis jerked himself just a bit before pushing into your wet pussy, how that fuck got you wet he didn't know, all he knew is each little inch was driving him mad, once he was balls in, he let everything out, "You're a fuckin' slut, ya know lettin' any man fuck ya? You're mine" He growled, his blues are now black and his skilled hips began to work. You moaned loudly as tears glossed over your eyes from the pleasure of each pump of his hips, his pace was fast and hard, but calculated and his cock hit all the places you didn't know you had, was this what sex was supposed to feel like "More!" you cried, gripping the bed sheets, suddenly Elvis's fingers were pushed down your throat, enough to make you gag around them "You don't give orders lil' girl." he hissed, pounding downwards into you. Johnny gulped, feeling sick that he was getting turned on, seeing his toy being fucked by Elvis Presley, her step-brother, he zoned onto where you and elvis was connected.

You sucked on his fingers, like that of a lollipop, eyes hooded, looking at him with those innocent eyes, Elvis's chest rumbled with a groan, he pulled his digits out, replacing them with his burning hot tongue, his pointing finger rubbed your clit in short, fast circles. You whined in the kiss, the knot in your stomach snapped, your back arched and your hips jerked, walls fluttering, sucking for everything he could offer. Elvis throws back his head, a deep, gaspy groan left his throat, and his hips stuttered. A heat poured into your already warm walls.

You let a small protest when Elvis slipped out of you, the feeling of him inside was addicting and you didn't want that to go so soon, your protest didn't last as Elvis sat beside your slight sweat-coated body, and parted your cum leaking folds, showing the camera his cum dripping out, letting go of your outer lips and sliding his two fingers down your clit and into your cunt, nothing could have prepared you for that was to come next. His digits fucked into you, like a hard-working machine, repeatedly hitting your g-spot, your eyes widened when Elvis bend over and bit-nippled your sensitive clitoris. A deeper pit took over you, screaming, tears flowing, you squinted all over the recorder and Elvis's face, still, even with your slick dripping his face held a smug smirk at your boyfriend.

Elvis got up and, licked away one of your tears "Such a pretty crybaby." He praised you, kissing your temple. His eyes turned to your boyfriend "Clean her." he spoke sternly, "S-sure just let me get a rug." johnny put the video record on a dresser and went to get a rug "With your tongue." johnny stopped mid-step "What?" he turned to look at Elvis in pure disbelief "Clean. Her. With your tongue. Now." your boyfriend gulped and nodded, rushing to get in between your legs. His tongue dragged up your clenching opening, catching your and Elvis's mixed cum on his tastebuds, johnny squeezed his eyes shut as he sucked and licked your cunt clean of cum.

Johnny winced moving from your legs, his cheeks got with embarrassment and humiliation "Can I go now?" he asked looking at the floor, "Sure go ahead," Elvis smiled, wiping his face with a wet rug from the bathroom, "Tell anybody about and I'll kill ya" Elvis whispered, grabbed his arm on his way out, johnny's face paled and he nodded fearfully as Elvis jerked his arm away, once he was free, he ran straight home. Elvis walked over and smiled at your passed-out form, cleaning your pussy with the other side of the rag, and laid beside you "I love ya lil' mama." he kissed your forehead, he was of course, gonna call his Memphis Mafia to deal with your sad excuse of a 'boyfriend' but for right now it was just him and you.

Just how he liked it.

@kiankiwi @18lkpeters @louisejoy86 @chasingwildflowers @crash-and-cure @plasticfantasticl0ver @galaxygirl453 @edgeofrealitys-blog, @flwersgarden.

#elvis imagine #elvis presley x reader #elvis x reader #elvis smut #austin butler smut #austin butler x reader #elvis 2022 #yandere!elvis x reader #austin elvis imagine #yandere austin butler x reader #tw:incest

[stevenose]

under you (18+)

day 29/31 of the august writing challenge

today’s word: capture

contains: steve x reader; reader with a vagina and breasts; reader wears a skirt/tights; no gendered language (such as good girl, etc) used; primal play!; enthusiastic consent; sex outdoors; safeword system (only green used); kink exploration; absolute gentleman steve; kink negotiation; a little bit of pain play; self degradation on reader’s part; squirting; cumming inside; aftercare <3

a/n: this is long and probably not good. i’ve never written something like this before so please forgive me if it’s bad. love and light xox

You didn’t think Steve noticed. But the thing about Steve is that he always notices things with you.

He first noticed how flustered you’d get when he’d play-wrestle with you. Pinning you beneath his body while you squirmed and whined. How disappointed you seemed when he’d give you a kiss and then roll off of you to hold you instead. How warm your body was against his, how you’d keep adjusting, pressing your ass against his dick when his arms would wrap around you.

Then he noticed how you sometimes like to be just out of reach. Giggling and stepping away at the right time, ducking out of his embrace or a kiss. How you made him work for it, running away, albeit lazily - how you’d moan when he finally caught you and kissed you fiercely, holding you tight so you didn’t run away again.

And now, he’s noticing how you’re squirming in your seat beside him on the couch. There’s a horror movie playing on his TV in front of you. He wanted a cute date night. To hold you when you get scared, arm around you, whispering reassurance in your ear.

“Don’t worry, baby. I could kick that guy’s ass.”

He really does think you’re scared at first. The way your breath hitches, how you fidget with your fingers. But your eyes are glued to the movie, and not once do you recoil or scoff while the killer chases his next victim. If anything, you seem incredibly interested, where before you’d been making jokes at the corniness and special effects. Steve wraps his arm around you as intended, but he doesn’t speak just yet, curious with your reaction.

You seem to not even notice that he’s staring. Simply watching the screen, your eyes wide, lips slightly parted. You watch like that all the way up to the villain pinning the screaming protagonist down and lifts his knife, and then you blink and look away, suddenly disinterested. Which is a little weird, Steve thinks. That’s usually the part that people can’t look away from.

So it happens again later in the movie - a chase scene, someone getting pinned. You have the same reaction this time, except you’re a little more active. Shifting in your seat, crossing your legs. The moment your thighs squeeze together it clicks for Steve, who is equally shocked and amused. His pretty little thing? Getting off to something like this?

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispers, leaning towards your ear, and it’s truly like you can’t hear him. Your eyes still glued to the movie while a little fight ensues between the characters. “Honey?”

“Yeah?” you ask, looking over at him finally. Your chest heaves and you lick your lips, looking a little dazed.

Steve smiles. “Do you like that?”

Your eyes widen. “Do I like what?”

One of his big hands rests on your thigh and he smiles a little wider when they clench again. “You like gettin’ chased and pinned down, huh?”

You laugh abruptly and take his hand off of your thigh, quick to uncross your legs. “You’re insane,” you scoff, and Steve can’t help but to press further.

“Then why are you so worked up, huh? You can’t hide that from me. I can see how turned on you are.”

“I’m just - I’m just freaked out.”

Steve hums. “I don’t think so.”

“Okay, smartass. What do you think, then?”

He raises his brows. “What I think,” he says lowly, leaning in towards you, “is that you want a big, strong man to chase you, pin you down, and fuck you.”

You balk at him, eyes frantically searching his face to see if he’s serious or not. If you’re really caught or not. “You’re way off base.”

“So you’re telling me you don’t like it when I have to chase you through the living room to get a kiss? Or when I pin you down like this?”

He lunges forward, pressing your back down against the couch and climbing on top of you. This time, you actually moan, even though he hasn’t done anything to you yet. “Fuck, Steve, stop-“ But just as quickly as he moves away, you grab him and bring him back, face and chest alight with embarrassment and arousal.

“So you do like this?” he asks, much more serious this time as he pins your hands above your head.

“I like it too much,” you breathe. “I know it’s fucked up.”

He’s repulsed by you saying that. Sure, he’s a pretty vanilla guy. But he likes servicing more than anything. If you told him you wanted him to chase you through the woods and fuck you when he captures you, he will. Easy.

So he does, a week later.

It’s around dusk and you’re standing at the edge of his property, facing the woods. You meticulously planned this out, safe word and all. You’re giddy, bouncing on your feet while Steve does stretches - he hasn’t played basketball in a hot minute.

“I think I might really outrun you,” you say excitedly.

“Not in those shoes,” he counters, eyes flicking towards your mary janes. “I know that’s the point, but couldn’t you have worn some sneakers?”

“I’m playing the part.” You’re still bouncing like you’ll take off any second, smiling. You’re wearing a white blouse and a skirt, too, with tights on underneath. Easy access, you’d explained, because your fuck in the woods will have to be relatively quick considering the exhibitionism of it all.

Steve stands, black Levis gripping onto his skin, a simple navy t-shirt on. He’s not wearing underwear and, yes, he already regrets it. He gives you a once over. You’re definitely pretty enough to chase, something he doesn’t want to let slip through his fingers.

“You ready?”

You take a deep breath and nod, turning back around to face the woods. Steve’s cock is already getting hard. This isn’t exactly his thing, but your excitement, paired with that skin tight skirt, certainly does something for him.

“I’m giving you a ten second head start,” he says smoothly. You already know this, but it’s part of the game. “I’ll count out loud so you can hear. And you’d better run, baby. Once I catch you, you’re mine.”

He pauses for dramatic effect. The tension in the air is thick, your body ready to move at any moment.

“One.”

He starts his chase after ten. He has to admit that he feels like a creep, stalking you in the woods, but he’s a little bit enthralled, too. You’re probably already dripping for him. There’s a reward at the end of this. Two, actually. He’ll get to cum, sure, but more importantly, you’ll get to.

You must not be running very fast because he’s already gaining on you, can see your white shirt through gaps in the trees. And now he feels elated. With you in sight, it’s a little fun. He picks up his pace, dodging broken branches and boulders. He waits to snag you until you’re at a good spot, with more leaves on the ground that rocks.

Steve tackles you, pinning your body beneath his, his chest against your back. “Where do you think you’re goin’?” he asks, grinding into your ass, and then, “You okay?”

You nod and he exhales, relieved. You pant under him, writhing, trying your absolute damndest to get out from under him. You moan, nothing but excited, and Steve’s hand glides up your leg and under your skirt. He squeezes your ass and chuckles, leaning down to press his lips against your ear. “Go on, baby, tire yourself out.”

“Fuck you,” you pant, playful. “You’re slower than I thought you’d be.”

You cry out when he spanks you. “Who’s on top of who, huh?”

He sits on your legs, keeping them spread wide and you pinned. His hands push your skirt up and he tears your tights at the seam, exposing your ass and pussy. You still squirm as his fingers trail along your skin until finally reaching your slit.

“Holy shit,” he gasps, involuntarily. You’re so wet down here. He’s positively never felt a wetter pussy in his life. And now he can really lean into it, his own arousal spiking, jeans tenting. “You really get off on this, huh? Needed this all along, didn’t you? Your big strong boyfriend to pin you down and take what’s his?”

“Steve,” you moan, hips arching back.

“Tell me, baby. How much you want me to fuck you like this.”

“Please!”

He spanks you again, cock kicking while he watches your ass jiggle. Even your thighs are soaked. “Please what?”

You push your ass back as best as you can again, arching further. “Please fuck me.”

He hums and uses his thumbs to part your slit, nearly busting at the sight of your wet, clenching hole. “Gotta stretch you out first,” he mumbles, thumbs moving inward. “Don’t want it to hurt, do we, honey?”

Steve sinks a thumb inside of you. You moan loudly, fingernails digging into the dirt below. He only lets the tip rest inside of you, not yet daring to go any further. He wants to see how desperate he can get you.

“God, please fuck me, Steve,” you moan, trying and failing to push back onto him. “I’m so wet for you, just - just rail me, please!”

Now he’s fishing his cock out of his pants because holy shit. He fists himself, precum dripping from his slit. He’s nearly as sensitive as you are, and watching you flutter around his thumb makes his stomach flip. “You really think you can take it? Without any prep? Your hole’s so tiny, honey, I’d break you in two.”

“Then do it,” you whimper. “It hurts without you.”

He finally gives in, letting his thumb sink all the way inside of you. You groan gutturally over what Steve would consider to be nothing. His thumb is no where near the size of his cock.

“Think I might break your brain when I finally fuck you,” he taunts, letting his thumb glide in and out of you.

“Do it,” you repeat, voice strained. “I - I mean it.”

“You’re serious? What color are you?”

“Green,” you plead. “So goddamn green, Steve, I trust you. I trust you so much, just need to feel you.”

He hesitates. “It might hurt, baby.”

“I want it to. Fuck, I w-wanna be your mindless little wh-whore so bad, want you to t-take me, please Stevie? I belong to you.”

Steve’s head spins. He knew you’d be turned on, but this is almost unreal. You’re soaking past his thumb and down onto his wrist. “Tell you what, okay? I’m gonna put two fingers inside of you and get you a little more stretched out, and then I’ll do whatever you want.”

You nod. “Please please please, I feel so empty.”

He replaces his thumb with his index finger first, then quickly adds his middle finger. You gasp and groan under him, writhing in pleasure. Steve’s writhing a little, too, cock aching without his hand on it. You’re going to feel so divine, he’s sure of it. He pumps his fingers in and out a few times, before pulling them out and replacing them with the tip of his cock.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, leaning forward. He lets up on your legs and pins you with his body instead, propped up on his elbow. His other hand works his cock up and down your folds, relishing in the wet warmth of your pussy. “This pussy’s so pretty, baby. You doing okay?”

You nod, though you’re so horny that it takes you a minute to find words. “I’d be better if you fu-“

He almost busts at the noise you make. A low, long whine, ripped from your throat as he fucks his cock into you slowly. He wishes he could see your face - eyes rolled back, mouth agape - while he’s stretching you out. He moves slow, stopping periodically to get you used to him and only continuing when your ass juts backwards to take more. You’re boneless when he’s finally fully inside of you, balls pressed against your aching clit.

“There we go,” he coos. “How’s it feel?”

It takes you another moment. “You’re so fucking big,” you whine, on the verge of tears. “So good.”

Steve tries to give you another minute, but you’re quick to start fucking back onto him instead. As best as you can, at least, given your hips are pressed to the ground. Steve wraps his arm around your neck, putting you in a headlock, before pulling out and slamming back into you.

“Shit!” you cry, one hand gripping onto his arm. “Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit….”

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your ear. As he slides back out slowly, he mumbles, “Deep breath in for me….”

You do as you’re told, gasping in air.

“Now, out.”

You didn’t need direction - the impact knocks the breath out of your lungs itself. He buries himself, wiggling his hips push entirely into you, until he has no where else to go.

“In.”

You take in a sharp inhale. He pulls back, until the head of his cock stretches your opening.

“Out.”

He slams back in, balls slapping against your clit, a lewd squelch making his cock throb.

“There you go,” Steve urges, fucking you a little faster. “K-keep breathin’, peach.”

You’re crying, wailing, moaning. Stuttering out ‘green!’ when Steve asks if you’re okay. He’s so close already, but he wants to see your face when you cum. He pulls out and sits back, rubbing your back soothingly. “Wanna see you, baby, flip over.”

You’re slow to do it, positively cock drunk, and yet quick to wrap your legs around his waist when you finally get there.

“Hi,” he whispers, leaning forward to kiss you as his cock sinks back inside of you.

“Hi,” you answer when he finally pulls away. “Mmm…my shirt, Steve.”

“‘s it okay?”

You nod. “Rip it.”

So he does, a little earnestly. It takes him a few tries to really get the buttons to pop and expose your tits. He almost forgot you had them. Steve’s quick to put his hands on them, pinching and pulling at your nipples.

“Touch your clit, baby,” he instructs, voice shaking. He fucks you fast, each push in feeling like complete bliss. He’s never been happier to fuck raw. “Wanna see you cum on my cock.”

You tighten around him the moment your fingers touch the sensitive bud, head thrown back, eyes reeling. You feel so good that you can hardly even find the energy and strength to touch yourself. Every stroke sends your body jolting, your cunt gripping Steve so hard you’re nearly pushing him out.

“Can I cum?” you whine, tits bouncing, eyes wet. It’s so dirty. Steve’s cock pulses - he’s close, too.

“Cum,” he gasps. “C-cum and I’ll g-give you my fu-fucking load deep in this little p-pussy, baby, gonna make you so f-full….”

He kisses you to muffle your scream. Your body jerks under him, fingers digging into his arms and then back into the dirt and then into his back all in the span of a few seconds. You writhe, legs tight around him, your hand working fast to keep you cumming. You seem to be getting even wetter, Steve realizes. And then he realizes you’re squirting.

“Oh fuck,” he groans, high pitched and needy. “Fuck baby, oh fuck, honey, I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in this pussy. Shit, I love you, I love you, I l-“

Steve shouts when he cums, eyes rolling back and stomach flexing hard. He pushes in fully, until there’s hit a single inch separating you two, filling you with sticky, hot cum. You moan lowly at the feeling, still euphoric from your own orgasm. You only have half the mind to grab Steve’s shirt and pull him down into a messy kiss.

He collapses on top of you, panting and sweating with you. You both shake, aftershocks making your body jerk. It feels like hours before you can speak, throat raw.

“I’m in love with you.”

Steve laughs. “That good, huh?”

“I’m so goddamn in love with you.”

“I’m in love with you, too.”

You pet his hair, staring up at the trees. “I really don’t know if I can walk.”

“I’ll help you.”

At home, you sink into a bath together after an initial shower to scrub away any leftover dirt. You’re both sore, knees scraped. The hot water feels like a luxury, Steve’s skin soft against yours. Your eyes fall shut and you relax, though your orgasm has sent you into such a relaxed state of bliss already.

“You okay?” he asks, rubbing your legs. The bath water smells like lavender.

You nod. “We’re going to sleep so well tonight.”

“I’m going to be so sore in the morning.”

“Sure are, old man,” you tease. “Next we have to find some niche thing you really like.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says.

“If you did this for me, I’ll do just about anything for you.”

He smiles and sighs, his head resting against the wall behind him. “How about you take over my shifts at Family Video for a year?”

You pinch his shin. “I said just about anything.”

#stevenose posts #ns/fw #steve x reader #steve harrington smut #august23

[bettyfrommars]

Touch my cheek before you leave me, baby//Part 2

gigolo!Eddie x virgin!older!fem!Reader

(part 1)(part 3)

18+Only, mature content, intimacy smut, sweet!Eddie, nipple play, praise!kink, masturbation, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, toxic mother, self-esteem issues, alcohol consumption, implied self-loathing, pet names, implied sex with someone other than reader, paid sex. wc: 4.6k

summary: After that first night together on your 29th birthday when you lost your virginity to gigolo Eddie, he mentions, in his own way, that he'd like to see you again off the clock. Reader is an introvert dealing with self-esteem issues and invites Eddie to be our date for a wedding, but not before he invites us back to his place.

authors note: I never intended this to be more than one part, but it quickly became a favorite, and I had so many requests for more. Who am I to deny us more of sweet, gigolo Eddie?

All of your support means the world, and I very much look forward to your thoughts ❤️

pls no minors beyond this point

-------

You still couldn’t tell if it was real.  When he said he wouldn’t charge you if you ever wanted to meet up again. It felt sincere when he said it, but now, two days later, by the phone with gigalo Eddie’s number in your hand, you were convinced that it was all part of his game.  Maybe he was just that good.

He knew everything that would turn you on, everything you needed to hear, right down to the pet names and the missionary style, intimate sex. It had all been in the paperwork you’d submitted. It was nothing but a job to him, and you had totally fallen for it.  

Now you felt like one of those idiot, lovesick men at the strip clubs who always believed that the girls were really in love with them after they made eye contact a few times and tipped them for hours on end. 

You did your affirmations in the mirror that morning, trying not to look at yourself from the side in the full length mirror and pinch at the parts of your body you thought were gross.  Trying not to indulge in the morning ritual of hating yourself.

Even if Eddie had felt some type of real connection with you—which you now highly doubted—how would things progress between the two of you? From what Robin had told your friend Nellie, Eddie was a busy boy.  He was a respected gigalo within a 50 mile radius, and his list of regular clients was long; your evening with him was booked a month in advance.  On nights when he didn’t have clients, he was practicing with his band or playing gigs, and you were sure he could have any woman he wanted when he performed.

But then the phone rang as you were sitting there right next to it and you jumped, a shriek escaping your throat.

It was your mom, reminding you to pick up the dress for your cousin's wedding the following weekend. You weren’t going to be in the wedding party, but your mother had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want you to embarrass her with any of the styles of clothes you would’ve picked out for yourself.  

She exhaled a haggard breath.  “I suppose you still haven’t found a date? There’s a new boy who goes to our church. I think he might even like you, as long as you don’t bring up any of your strange conspiracy theories or serial killer statistics. Wear that special bra I got for you, and put a little makeup on.  Men like women who try to look nice for them.”

You wanted so badly to let your mother know that you’d recently paid for a gigolo to take your virginity, just to hear the horror and panic in her voice.  You were already a disappointment to her, why not put a cherry on top?

You put Eddie’s number on the table and stared at it while she talked.  “Actually,” you took a stiff swallow that felt like a marble in your throat.  “I do have a date.  For the wedding.  His name is Eddie.”

You relished the silence of shock at the other end. “Oh? What does this Eddie do? Not another jobless musician like the last boy you had a crush on, I hope?”

You winced at the way she brought it up.  Almost a decade ago, you had a crush on the brother of one of your friends, that is until you overheard him refer to you as “creepy”.

You knew she’d never drop it until you told her something; what a person did for a living and their social standing was very important to your mother.  “He’s, um,” you looked around, eyes landing on one of the cassette tapes on the shelf for the band Mike and The Mechanics.

“He’s a mechanic,” but you knew that wouldn’t be good enough.  “He, uh, runs his own auto body garage.” The lie—the fact that you even had to lie—made you squeeze your eyes shut.

She of course asked what the name of his garage was, and you told her he was from out of town and only coming in for the wedding.  She started badgering you with more questions and you lied and told her someone was at the door of your apartment and you had to go, hanging up the receiver before she could protest.  

A few hours later, after listening to music on full blast in your headphones and nearly pacing a hole in the carpet, you cracked open the nerve to call Eddie.

Your blood ran freezing cold as it rang on his end, and you glanced at the clock: it was just after 8:00pm.  You’d purposely waited until it was later in the evening, praying that he’d be with his band or with another client, and then you could leave him a message on his machine.  You were banking on this, actually.  If he picked up and you heard his voice, you’d probably hang up on him.

As luck would have it, you did get his answering machine.  Nervous as all hell, your voice was a tad squeaky at first, but then you cleared your throat. 

You decided you would present the invitation to be your date to the wedding as a job, one you would pay him for.  You let him know you’d had a great time the other night, and then made sure he had your phone number, and that you would TOTALLY understand if he was already busy that weekend.  You were about to hang up when you realized that you’d never said exactly who you were, and so you blurted your name out at the last minute, but it was too late because the recorder beeped and cut you off.

You went to bed that night convinced you would never hear from him again.  

Much later that night, after a long day, Eddie grinned down at the answering machine the second he heard your voice—he knew it was you right away.  He’d been thinking about you nonstop since that night you’d been together, but he never expected to hear from you.  He worried that he had put you on the spot when he said you wouldn’t have to pay him, and it had probably made you uncomfortable.  Flirting on the job was not something he had done before and it was very unprofessional of him. At the very least, he needed to apologize to you.

But there you were, calling him this soon as if you’d been thinking about him too.  

He tucked his hand in his armpit and nibbled at his lip when you asked if he was free this weekend to go to a wedding with you.

His heart skipped a beat.  He was thinking something more along the lines of dinner and a movie, but, sure, he would be your date—he had a tux. He’d have to reschedule one of his regulars, but she would understand. Other guys might’ve seen that as getting too serious too quick, but not Eddie.  He hadn’t had a girlfriend, or even been on a date that was not work related in over a year.  Women weren’t interested in taking a gigolo home to meet their parents.  They wanted his cock in all of their holes, but none of them ever wanted to know how his day went or what his dreams were.  

“So, just let me know…” you continued in the message.  “...if you’re available, and how much would you charge for something like that? I’d totally understand if…”

Damn it, he cursed to himself, sucking air in the side of his cheek.  He thought that invitation was sounding a little too good to be true.  

All the same, he called back the next day and left a message while you were at the local grocery store where you worked as an assistant manager, letting you know he’d be honored to be your date, and to tell him the where and the when.

But he did not give a price, and the omission was not lost on you.

—-----

You were so nervous, you could puke.

But it was still a day before the wedding, and you were in attendance at the post-rehearsal dinner at Enzo’s.  Although you were not going to be in the wedding, your beautiful, outgoing sister Judith was, and you weren’t entirely against a dinner paid for by your uncle at one of the fanciest restaurants in town.  

You were feeling the buzz of the wine and trying to play wallflower as the other four people at the table, including your sister and three of her friends, engaged in lively conversation and shared exaggerated stories from their college years.  You were sitting back in your chair, offering a chuckle to something that was just said, when you looked across to the main entrance and saw Eddie coming through the door.  

You were only looking in his direction for maybe five seconds before you looked away, but it felt like an hour.  There was an ocean in your ears as your heartbeat soared and your brain scrambled to make sense of what was going on. 

He looked particularly beautiful.  Hair worn down, framing his face, a crisp white button down, allowing for the dark designs of his chest tattoos to show, sleeves rolled up at the elbows, exposing his defined forearm muscles and tattoos.  

Eddie was not alone.  

Next to him, holding onto his arm, was a very pretty woman.  Shoulder length, brunette hair brushed back from her face, flawless skin, tight black dress and gold jewelry.  She might have been mid to late thirties, much shorter than Eddie. They appeared to be very cozy as they stood waiting to be shown to their booth, and when she turned to ask him something, Eddie answered, and then kissed the back of her hand.

You snapped your eyes back to the table, twirled the stem of your wine glass a few times, and then lifted it to your lips for a generous gulp.  Everyone at your table was just tipsy enough to not notice how flustered you got, cheeks blooming red hot.

Eddie saw you while he was escorting Lana to their table, but he wasn’t sure if you had seen him yet or not.  This was his fifth “date” with Lana.  Her husband passed away four years ago, and she’d decided that she’d never love another man again as much as she’d loved him, so she didn’t want any romantic attachments.  What she wanted was a man to take care of her once in a while: escort her to dinner, treat her like a lady, hold doors for, and then let her suck him off so he could cum on her tits the way her husband used to do.  He wore her husband's Old Spice aftershave and called her “Sugar” which had always been his nickname for her. 

He needed to focus on Lana, but as the waiter handed over the wine menus, Eddie kept glancing in your direction.  It'd been a week since the two of you had been together biblically, and he’d really been missing your face, more than he could even admit to himself.  He found himself drawn to you chemically in a way he hadn’t experienced since he was a teenager. 

You shot him a look over your wine glass, and he lifted his fingers in a small wave, but you ducked your head and tried to hide behind whoever was sitting next to you. 

If anyone there recognized him tomorrow at the wedding, and happened to connect the dots that he was with another woman on a date the night before, that would be bad. He made a last second decision to switch places with Lana in the booth so that his back would be to the people you were with, in an effort to hide his identity.  

“I think it’s time for me to go home,” you announced to the table, getting to your feet as you said it.

Your sister protested.  “But, we just got here? One more drink?”

You fumbled so fast for your jacket that your chair fell to the ground.  Even over the Italian music and plentiful conversations, everyone turned to look, including Eddie, and then you were rushing to get out of the restaurant, bursting into the fresh air and hurrying down the sidewalk.

Down at the corner of the building, you were catching your breath and feeling stupid as hell, when you realized Eddie was coming toward you with his hands in his pockets.  He had waited a few minutes, but eventually followed.

“Hey,” he said, catching up to you after a few slow, deliberate strides.  “I hope I didn’t make anything weird for you in there.”

You covered your eyes with your hand.  “No, I’m the one who made things weird,” you told him. “I’m just not a fan of crowds. I think I got a little claustrophobic.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie had his head down, shuffling his foot, and you noticed how different his demeanor was when he wasn’t “working”.  

You huffed a laugh.  “You’re a natural with people, what are you talking about?”

“Maybe I just play a good game,” he lifted his eyes to meet yours, chin lowered. “On the inside I spend plenty of time curled in a ball in the corner, I promise you.”

A car horn blared in the distance, and then Eddie spoke again.  “You look really pretty tonight,” his hands stayed in his pockets, but he gestured with his elbow.  “Are we still on for tomorrow?”

“Of course,” you said quickly, praying he hadn’t suddenly changed his mind.  “I mean, if you still want to?”

“Of course I want to, sweetheart,” he cocked his head, but then he gestured toward the restaurant. “I need to get back in, I can’t leave her hanging.”

You started to speak nervously, something about “oh yes sure go ahead absolutely okay goodnight” as you walked away, but then he caught your arm.

He searched your face in the dark shadow of the street corner.  “Are you…busy later? Like, in a couple hours?”

Your heart tightened at the urgency of his question.  The way his eyes settled on you, they were full of desire, and you couldn’t remember the last time anyone gave you all of their attention like that.  

Eddie was really taking a chance with this one.  What woman in her right mind would want to spend time with him right after he’d been intimate with someone else?  This is where any dating situation he ever attempted came to a screeching halt.  He went home lonely more often than not.  

Your gaze flicked from his eyes to his beautiful neck, letting the gravity of what he was asking you sink in.  “Won’t you be…tired?”

He brushed his knuckles across your cheek.  “Not too tired.”

—----

He called from the payphone at Enzo’s and left his address on your answering machine, just like he said he would, and so there you were, in your car in the driveway of the adorable light blue house he shared with a friend named Steve, who was supposedly also in the gigolo business. Steve was out of town for a few days, though, and inside your head you were screaming; you couldn’t believe this was happening.

 It was one of the better maintained houses on the block; lawn perfectly mowed and trimmed, a flower bed with purple pansies along the sidewalk.  There was the husk of an old muscle car in the garage though, and an engine weeping oil on the pavement.  The lie you’d told your mother wasn’t too far off, and a grin kicked up one side of your mouth thinking about how Eddie’s strong hands had some black stains in the crevasses from working on cars, even though he scrubbed them constantly.  

Eddie had no idea what he was doing.  The good thing about being a gigalo was that he could control the atmosphere and the outcome: he never had to worry about getting hurt because it was just a job.  

You could tell he’d just come out of the shower when he answered the door in a plain white tee and jeans exposing the tattoos on his arms, hair wet down his shoulders, skin warm and soft when he hugged you in the doorframe. 

The hug lingered, and when you stepped back, your chin was down, your eyes trying to avoid him at all costs. Sure, you wanted to be there with him, but also, your body was in fight or flight mode.  You could hear your mother’s voice in your head then, telling you there’s no way a guy as good looking as Eddie would be interested in a girl like you. She’d insist he was using you for something.

“Hey,” Eddie caught your chin and brought your attention back to him. He ran a thumb across your mouth.  “I’ve been dreaming of these lips.”

It made you snort a laugh, and Eddie laughed too, squeezing one eye closed.  “Sorry, was that too cheesy? Occupational hazard.”

“I like cheesy,” you beamed, parting your lips to accept his kiss, opening your mouth to take him deeper, working your hands up the front of his chest over his shirt.  You tried not to think about the woman he’d been with just an hour earlier, and the things they’d possibly done together.  If he could accept you and still find you desirable, even when you didn’t even like yourself, you were willing to have an open mind about his profession.  At least for now.

You found out he had an episode of Elvira’s Movie Macabre on the TV, and told him it was one of your favorites.  This made Eddie like you even more.  He sat back on the couch, legs long, and beckoned for you with a few eager flaps of his wrist to come and sit flush with your back against him.  “This is what I needed,” he said as you got comfortable between his legs.  He kissed the side of your head, intertwined the fingers of one of his hands with yours, and you could barely concentrate on the show with the way his closeness made your pussy pulse.

“Is this okay?” He whispered.  Both of his thumbs slid down the front of the blouse you were wearing to graze the hard nubs of your nipples, while he kissed the outer ridge of your ear.  

You could only make a needy purr in the back of your throat, pushing against him at the need for more.  

“Are your nipples this hard just for me, sweetheart?” He hushed, nuzzling your ear.  You squirmed a bit more, nodding, exposing the side of your neck to greet his mouth.  He unbuttoned your shirt and pulled down the front cups of your bra to pluck at your tender buds, making you whine.  He found your pulse point on your throat and sucked there, continuing to work your nipples in a way that had your underwear immediately damp with arousal.

“You getting wet for me so I can taste how good I make you feel, baby?”

Indeed, your body was letting him know loud and clear that this is what it wanted.  

He licked his fingers to wet your nipples, and you felt like you might be able to cum from his finger twisting alone.  You undid the zipper on your trousers and sank your fingers into the wetness there, working your slippery clit.  You slid your digits down a little further and dipped them into your hole; it gripped around you, begging to be filled.

“Let me taste it,” he told you.  You presented your two glistening fingers up and he sucked them into his mouth, licking them clean, making you tremble at the way his tongue flicked between them.

“Keep touching yourself,” he encouraged, milking and twisting your nipples with a bit more force now that they weren’t as sensitive, causing zings of pleasure to rock through your body.

“Eddie,” you whimpered, finding your clit again, working your wrist.  “You’re going to make me—”

But then it was already happening, a pop of velvet streamers liquified at your core, pulsing, throbbing, making you go blind for a second.  

Eddie’s cock bucked hard against his denim.  You turned to kiss him in the aftermath, and he slid out from under you to get on his knees, pulling your pants off the rest of the way.

“I need to taste it,” he breathed, hiking your knees up over his shoulders so he could bury his face and lick you clean, lapping up your gift, groaning and rocking forward on his knees as he did so.  

You grabbed onto his hair.  “You like how hard I cum for you, don’t you baby?”

You were learning to be more verbal, and it made his hips twitch against the couch, he wanted you so bad.  Once he devoured the sweet  nectar of  your cum, he worked his way up your body, kissing your breasts, and then finding your mouth.  He sank two fingers into your aching hole, and your pelvis flexed eagerly up to meet his hand.  

“Hey,” he brushed his lips over yours, hovering there.  “I don’t ever go down on...clients,” he admitted to you, eyes finding yours, fucking his fingers slowly in and out, curling them up once they were deep inside of you. “You are special, I just thought you should know.”

“I like knowing that,” you said with a quiver in your voice, holding his face. “I want you inside of me.”

There was a condom in his wallet and he helped you guide it onto his cock after he pushed his jeans down, every bit the teacher.  You slid your shoulders down the couch, legs spread wide, exposing all of your holes for him.  Gripping your hip, he teased the tip at your entrance, eyebrows pinching together at the sensation.

“Without a condom, I’d probably blow a hole through you, baby, you’ve got me so hard.”

Your pussy was soaked, dripping from your folds down the condom on his cock.  “You’re the only one I want inside of me,” you were merely stating a fact, but it was just what he needed to hear, and he rose up on his knees, pulled your ass a bit further off the couch, and buried himself balls deep with a hard gasp.

He leaned forward to brace his forearms on the cushion at either side of your head, kissing you, thrusting in a few times as deep as he could go, skin smacking, your wetness now shimmering on the curly hairs at the base of his cock.

You were amazed at how your body knew how to respond, even though you had absolutely no clue what you were doing.  Bucking your hips up to meet him was your favorite, and then every now and then, he’d swivel his hips, holding your legs out.  

“That was a fancy move,” you breathed against his lips. 

“I save all my fancy moves for you, sweetheart,” he chuckled.

He brought his thumb in to play with your clit.  “I want you to cum with me.”

You didn’t know if that kind of tandem miracle was possible, but you were willing to try.  You brought your fingers in to work your slick juices over just the right spot, and Eddie sat back to watch you. He was observing and taking notes.

“You stretch me out so good,” you whined, getting into the swing of things, swiping your fingers faster, not phased at all by the way the parts of your body you hated were all hanging out for him to see.  

“Shit,” Eddie bucked. “You’re gonna make me cum right now if you talk like that.”

“You’ve ruined me for everyone with your big cock, baby,” you continued. “No one will ever fill me up like you do.”

“Fuck, you’re so tight, holy shit,” Eddie cried out.

You could feel the peak approaching but then Eddie pushed in a bit too eagerly, and his cock slipped out and dove up into the folds of your pussy.

“Oh, fuck, right there,” you called out, clutching his shoulder, begging him to work the head of his cock on your clit.

“Fuck baby fuckkkkk,” he hissed, thrusting his hips, fucking your folds with the underside of his cock.  “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

And then, it was you who was cumming, babbling, riding the wave as Eddie cock dipped back inside, needing to feel like he was pumping it inside of you, worshiping you from the inside with his seed.

In the aftermath, his head lowered, hair hanging down, he enjoyed the slip of your cum, feeding you the shaft a few more times. 

Eddie was about to pull you against him to watch Movie Macabre for real this time, but when you came out of the bathroom, you were fully dressed with your bag over your shoulder and a distinct look of goodbye on your face.

“I should get going,” you announced, picking at some loose skin around your cuticle.  

Eddie stood from the couch, fixing himself, making sure the zipper was up on his jeans.  He didn’t have a shirt on, exposing the cut lines at his hips and trail of hair below his belly button.

“Sure, sure, um,” he looked around, hands on his hips.  “You don’t have to go.  I mean, you could even stay here, if you wanted. I could set my alarm if you have to get up early.”

You wondered what he charged for overnight stays.  Would you receive a bill on Monday for two full days worth of gigolo time? You had no idea what his rates were, and you still knew you couldn’t afford it.   The voices in your head were telling you what a gullible, cock drunk fool you were. While in the bathroom, you realized that everything he said was way too good to be true.  No man had ever wanted you this bad, nor would they ever.  A part of you was even harboring some anger towards him for being deceitful and making you feel things you’d gone 3 decades without.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat. “For this.  I have a big day tomorrow, so,” and then you turned without another word, headed for the door.

Eddie hustled after you.  “Okay, so, I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow, yeah? We’ll go together?”

“Actually,” you gave him your profile.  “I think it would be better if  you just met me at the venue.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said quietly.  He was having a hard time reading you. “I’ll be there.”

“Okay, thanks again,” you said in a rush. 

“Hey, wait—-” but you were already out the door and hurrying down the driveway to your car, afraid to look back.  

---------

Thank you for reading!

#gigalo Eddie #touch my cheek before you leave me baby #sweet Eddie #gigalo!Eddie #Eddie munson #Eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #stranger things smut #gigalo eddiemunson #Spotify

[aheathen-conceivably]

Violette ran through the farmyard, disappointed that her father's attentions had been pulled elsewhere, when she found Will looking out over the gorge where they liked to play cops and robbers when the adults weren't looking. Before he could even notice her, she had scurried up the fence that protected the horses from falling into the pit below. As she pirouetted and walked along the uneven wooden barrier Will looked up in horror, “Violette! Get down! I told you my Poppa doesn't let us up there. Its not safe!”

Her voice called out from above, echoing off the orange rocks without a hint of fear, “Oh what, are you scaaaaared?”

As though to punctuate her words, she spun her arms around like windmills, letting her balance pull her back and forth like she was going to fall. William let out a small yelp and she leaned toward the left, as though she were falling into the shallow rushing water below. Even the birds flew away at his cry, like they were preparing to swoop after her into the valley to see if she would ever stand against the blue skies with them again.

Instead she caught herself at the last minute, jumping off of the beam and landing delicately on her toes beside William. She greeted his shocked expression with a small bow and triumphant smile.

With two feet safely on the ground, Violette let out a loud laugh, “Oh, don’t be a baby, Will! It’s not my fault you fall for it every time!” She stopped to stick out her tongue at him, “You’re so gullible!”

He crossed his arms and began to sulk away, “I am not! And one time you’re gunna fall for real and I’ll be right!”

She ran after him, still laughing but in a much more gentle way this time, “I’ll never fall! Look!” Once she had his full attention, Violette stood on the very tips of her feet, holding her balance until they went numb and any child with less willpower would have dropped back down. His eyes went wide in amazement but then her heels hit the sand below and he seemed to remember why he was angry with her, “I’ve seen that, Lottie!”

He sulked away again, sinking into the desert flowers in a huff. She stared at him with his head on his knees and suddenly felt a guilty pang, “I know, I’m sorry. We can play cops and robbers now.”

Still he didn’t answer, so she bent amongst the flowers and picked a handful for him. He took them from her outstretched hand and moved slightly for her to sit near him. She leaned onto his arm, trying to nudge out what was bothering him the way she knew she could. He looked up, back toward the fence where she had been walking moments before, "You’re so brave, Lottie, you know that? I been thinkin’ and—and I shoulda said something when Billy was mean to you.”

She grabbed the flower away from him and brought it to her lips, blowing the petals on the breeze before she laid it back on the ground and spoke, “That’s okay. I can stand up for myself. I know you’re my friend.”

“But…doesn’t it bother you? You know, when they ask about your parents…about the way you look and the way you talk?”

Violette absentmindedly laid onto the sand, drawing circles with her finger as her mind raced. Ever since she had put Billy in his place, no one had said anything so blatant to her; but she knew some of them went home to tell their parents or whisper about her behind her back. It was the same thing that happened on the street sometimes, every time someone assumed her Aunt Jo was her mother or gave her parents a dirty look.

She didn’t really know how to explain that it did bother her, because she didn’t fully understand their disdain. Still a small feeling of anger rose up for their glares and questions, the ones that made her feel like her very existence was somehow an affront to them. But she wasn’t going to tell William that, or anyone for that matter. 

So instead she began to adopt a sense of self-assured bravado, which became more real with every feigned response. She sat up and scoffed, answering Will’s question as though it were the silliest thing in the world, “Why would it bother me? That’s their problem. Not mine.”

Then she righted her shoulders and donned a smile, “So are we gunna okay cops and robbers now or are you still a big scaaaaredy-cat?”

Whatever remaining worries they had were forgotten as she ran into the distance, giving herself a head start before she mounted an invisible horse and swirled her lasso in the air. He jumped to his feet and placed an imaginary cowboy head atop his head to don the guise of the cop, chasing an outlaw across the open desert just like they did in olden days.

#1932 #sims 4 historical #ts4 decades challenge #ts4 historical #sims 4 decades challenge #the darlingtons #sims 4 legacy #ts4 legacy #sims 4 story #ts4 story #1930s #Violette darlington #William Hines

[hottpinkpenguin]

"Just because all the others never showed you love doesn't mean no one ever will." This one with the Darkling with angst to fluff? Like maybe he keeps pushing the reader away because he's new to affection and doesn't know what to do?

A/n: this request felt so spot on for our favored tortured villain <3 thank you for the message anon!!

Darkling X Reader Word Count: 1656 | Warnings: not proofread, brief mentions of battle, hints at past abuse if you squint, super angst turns to tooth-rotting fluff

Note: dorogoy is the Russian for 'sweetheart' “Leave us.” 

The Black General strode in, his eyes murderous and his fists balled at his sides. Despite the warm summer night, the chill in his voice was enough to send a shiver up everyone’s spine. The two Healers rose from the sides of your cot where they’d been tending your injuries. They bowed quickly and kept their eyes glued to the ground as they scuttled out of the tent, leaving you and the Darkling alone. 

When the sounds of the retreating Healers’ footsteps had been swallowed in the gentle murmur of the camp outside, his eyes finally met yours. He looked as if he were about to break apart, his body practically abuzz with barely contained rage. 

“Aleks, I’m fine,” you chided him, rolling your eyes at his dramatics. “It’s just a burn. I’ll survive.”

Darkness blossomed around him, swallowing the dim candlelight on the inside of your tent. His jaw was clenched so tightly you worried he’d break a tooth, the veins in his forehead pulsing as he tried to regain control of himself. You’d seen his power a thousand times, but even still it startled you. You smoothed your face into a mask of calm, refusing to show him your instinctual fear. 

“You almost died, dorogy.” He sank down on the edge of your cot as the shadows receded into him like water soaks into a sponge. “You are decidedly not fine.” 

You smiled at him, shifting slightly to make room for him on the cot next to you. He was watching you, his eyes drinking you in. You could hear his next question before he even asked it. 

“Are the Healers treating you fairly?” The whisper of a threat hung off Aleksander’s words. You knew that his fear was that the other Grisha would shun you because of his affection for you. A fear you’d tried to quell a thousand times before. If only he knew how terrified the others were of hurting you, of disappointing you, or of otherwise mistreating you… 

You reached out, running your fingertips lightly along the back of his hand. He watched you, waiting for an answer. 

“They’re treating me perfectly,” you assured him emphatically. “I have everything I need.” 

He didn’t respond immediately, transfixed by the circular patterns you wove along the back of his hand. His eyes glazed over, his shoulders dropping slightly as he let the facade of the Black General relax in your presence. You watched him carefully, wondering how he managed to maintain such composure and control in the midst of battle. You’d seen him out there, on the battlefield: an avenging angel, all rage and cruelty, his black kefta fluttering like a flag, cutting down wave after wave of Fjerdan. He’d barely flinched, barely shown any sign of his powers draining him. It filled you with a strange combination of sorrow, pride, and lust. 

“Aleks?” Your voice, though quiet and gentle, snapped the moment like a dry twig. He looked up at you expectantly. “Are you alright?” 

You could tell as soon as the words left your lips that you’d said something wrong. He recoiled away from you as if he were the one that had been burned. His eyes widened in a mixture of shock and horror, followed immediately by self-loathing. You reached out, but not quick enough. He rose from the cot, stepping away from you. 

“How can you ask that of me? After what you saw today? After what I put you through? You want to know if I am alright?” His composure was unraveling, his dark eyes turning into bottomless pits of fury with nowhere to go but inward. He’d once told you that the most unexpected part of living so long was the extent to which he had come to loathe himself. You hadn’t understood it then, but now you caught a glimpse of just how deep Aleksander’s malice towards himself actually went. 

The shadows sprung from his fingers with ease, devouring the tent’s light and swarming around you like bees. The air around you crackled with their presence, although they didn’t touch you. Across the tent, consumed by a darkness so complete he almost vanished entirely, Aleksander shook with the explosive force of his power. His chin was tipped back and his mouth open as if screaming, although the only thing pouring out of his throat was more darkness. His eyes lost their whites, now just two blackened sockets, lifeless and unholy-looking. 

Terror seized you. Your heart jolted as adrenaline ricocheted through your veins. You knew Aleksander would never hurt you, although you weren’t sure how much  of the man you loved was still with you in that tent. 

You called out to him, but somehow your voice vanished in the space between you two. As if you’d been plunged underwater, your scream sounded distorted and dull. Aleksander didn’t even flinch. 

Wincing through the pain, you flung your legs over the edge of the cot. The shadows made way for you like a river parts around rocks. The hairs on the back of your arms and neck stood up straight, your instincts screaming at you to run! Leave! Kill him! Get out! 

Summoning your strength and with a sharp inhale, you forced your legs to hold your weight as you stood. The burns that climbed up the left side of your body from your kneecap to your jaw felt white hot, but you grit your teeth against the urge to pass out and took a shaky step forward. Again, the shadows pouring out of Aleksander moved to allow your passage. A distant part of you idly wondered what the rest of the camp could see, if anything, of the spectacle unfolding around you. 

Your feet almost slipped out from under you in the damp grass. Your reflexes dulled by exhaustion and pain, you lost your balance and pitched forward. You struck out with your arms to brace your fall, twisting your face away from the direction of impact. There was a moment of free fall before you felt strong arms catching you, artfully avoiding your burns. 

Aleksander lifted you easily off your feet in a sweeping motion. You didn’t open your eyes until you felt your back settle against the cot. When you did, a familiar face hovered over you. All trace of his shadows gone, all you saw now was a man. A leader, a saint maybe, a King certainly: but a man still, exhausted and confused. 

Before he had a chance to speak, you pressed a finger to his lips. Your head was spinning with pain, but you forced yourself to stay present. 

“I’m not afraid of you, Aleks,” you insisted. You held his gaze defiantly, challenging him to argue with you. For once in his stubborn life, he held his tongue and let you finish. “I don’t resent you for who you are. I don’t fight because you command me as my general, or even because you ask me as my lover. I fight beside you because I love you, and I believe in what we’re doing.” 

For all his wisdom, you knew that there were parts of your heart that Aleksander would never understand. You’d accepted as much a long time ago. But you’d be damned if you let him rip himself apart over it. 

He swallowed thickly, as if trying to take in what you’d told him. 

“I don’t… understand. How you can feel that way. About… someone like me. Someone who is what I am. There’s… sometimes-most of the time- it doesn’t seem like there’s enough left of me to love.” You let him finish, his words coming out chopped and halting. It seemed to take almost as much out of him as his powers did, and the sincerity with which he spoke made you smile gently. When he was finished, you reached up and cupped his cheek, your thumb carefully tracing the ragged volcra scar that bisected his cheek. 

“Aleks. Just because all the others never showed you love doesn’t mean no one ever will.” 

You watched as his memory clicked into place, recognizing the very words he’d said to you the night he’d finally gotten you to tell him about the others. The men before him. The ones who’d tried and failed to love you, and the ones who’d only wanted to hurt you. Those had been the words he’d said, and the reason you’d fallen in love with him. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been waiting to give those words back to him. 

He marveled at you for a moment as if seeing you for the first time before he spoke. “I wasn’t talking about any others,” he said quietly. 

You shook your head, smiling. “Of course you were,” you answered. “The other lives, the other versions of yourself. That’s all you talk about because it’s all you know. You’ve lived with yourself for so long you’ve forgotten that there’s any way to feel about yourself but hatred.” 

You let your hand drop, a sudden wave of exhaustion crashing over you. He noticed, catching your hand halfway down and guiding it to the top of your sheets. 

“Dorogoy,” he started, hesitating a moment on the pet name he’d given you. “Where have you been all my lives?” 

You beamed at him, finally hearing a break in the tension of his voice. He smiled back - not a broad smile, but enough to touch his eyes. 

“Right here, Aleks,” you replied as you let your eyes drift closed for sleep. 

You didn’t let yourself fully succumb to rest until you felt his warmth lay down next to you, his arms ever so carefully snaking around your torso. He tucked you closer to him, and you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the scent and the feel of him. You felt yourself slide off into sleep just as he started singing you an old Ravkan lullaby…

#darkling #darkling imagine #darkling x reader #darkling x y/n #darkling x you #shadow and bone #shadow and bone requests #darkling requests #general kirigan #general kirigan imagine #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova imagine #ben barnes #ben barnes x you #ben barnes imagine #bin bons

[gatheringbones]

I’m going back to Angela Davis’s homophobic description of the dykes she met in jail that she wrote before coming out and I can’t get over how much I’ve seen the same basic framing before:

[“Since the majority of the prisoners seemed to be at least casually involved in the family structure, there had to be a great number of lesbians throughout the jail. Homosexuality is bound to occur on a relatively large scale in any place of sexually segregated confinement. I knew this before I was arrested. I was not prepared, however, for the shock of seeing it so thoroughly entrenched in jail life. There were the masculine and feminine role-playing women; the former, the butches, were called “he.” During the entire six weeks I spent on the seventh floor, I could not bring myself to refer to any woman with a masculine pronoun, although some of them, if they hadn’t been wearing the mandatory dresses, would never have been taken for women. Many of them—both the butches and the femmes—had obviously decided to take up homosexuality during their jail terms in order to make that time a little more exciting, in order to forget the squalor and degradation around them. When they returned to the streets, they would rejoin their men and quickly forget their jail husbands and wives. An important part of the family system was the marriages. Some of them were extremely elaborate—with invitations, a formal ceremony, and some third person acting as the “minister.” The “bride” would prepare for the occasion as if for a real wedding. With all the marriages, the seeking of trysting places, the scheming that went on by one woman to catch another, the conflicts and jealousies—with all this—homosexuality emerged as one of the centers around which life in the House of Detention revolved. Certainly, it was a way to counteract some of the pain of jail life; but objectively, it served to perpetuate all the bad things about the House of Detention. “The Gay Life” was all-consuming; it prevented many of the women from developing their personal dissatisfaction with the conditions around them into a political dissatisfaction, because the homosexual fantasy life provided an easy and attractive channel for escape for many.”]

so many different things to pull out. That butches and femmes are victims who lean on each other in times of crisis and forget about each other as soon as their circumstances are improved, her real horror at the mismatch of genitals and body arrangements on display around her, how frustrated she is by the people she needs to become self-sacrificing communist heroes sinking into distraction instead, her sympathy for those who use skin contact and social relations and healing sex to cope with the overwhelming violence of jail life warring with her disgust for escapism and wasted time, the posing of gay life as an all consuming false identity that takes the place of a real personality, her awareness of how much she was able to accomplish as far as challenging the administration in her short time there compared with what she thinks the other prisoners SHOULD have been able to push for if they weren’t so distracted by sex and family instead.

she recanted all of it later of course, her foreword is full of disappointment at how little she understood when she was that age, but the fact that she did think and feel that is timeless.

#angela davis #lesbian literature

[desert-fern]

(Holi)Day by Day - 1940s Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Fem!Reader (historical AU)

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw x Fem!Reader

Summary: After everything you and Bradley had gone through during the war, you both had scars (both mental and physical) and nothing seemed to remedy them better than each other. When the Christmas season comes around, the tree needs decorating, and maybe even a new tradition for you both.

Warnings: small flashbacks from the war in nightmare form (bombings, blood, death all mentioned but not described), a little self-doubt, lots of love and teasing, and other than that first bit of dark stuff, this is cute and fluffy!

Word Count: 4.8k

Author's Note: Welcome back to Roo and Rosie! This little oneshot was written for @bellaireland1981's Winter RomCom Challenge with the prompt “Home for the Holidays” and while I might not have hit the comedy part of a RomCom, I do hope that you won't be too disappointed in this. Also, this sweet little fic was inspired by Frank Sinatra's Day by Day (which is also the song they are dancing to at the start).

This can be read as a standalone or as a continuation of Ring Around my Rosie.

===

Day by day 

I'm falling more in love with you

And day by day 

My love seems to grow

There isn't any end to my devotion

Frank Sinatra’s voice crooned quietly from the small radio perched on the windowsill of yours and Bradley’s small apartment in Washington. The street below was noisy, with shopkeepers closing up for the night and night shift workers greeting one another as they met up. White snow blanketed the roofs and windowsills, giving the world an angelic sort of peacefulness as you swayed in your husband’s arms. Boots crunched on the sidewalk below, the sound crisp yet soft under footfalls that left tracks back and forth in the snow.

It hadn’t been easy, these passing months. Bradley was still serving as a Navy officer, choosing to follow this path that he had started on before the U.S. had entered the war. But for all his successes, you were stuck at home. Being married, wearing Bradley’s last name as your own and his mother’s ring on your left hand meant that no one would hire you, despite your skills developed overseas. 

Both of you struggled with shell shock, waking up in a cold sweat nearly every other night as your memories replayed the worst moments of both of your short lives. Bombs falling, the screams of men, blood, so much blood everywhere you both turned in these dream states. You had shot awake late the night before, feeling blood on your hands and got up quickly to wash your hands over and over again, trying to free yourself from the stickiness and coppery smell that always lingered no matter how hard you scrubbed. 

Bradley had found you in your small kitchen, scrubbing your hands while tears coursed down your cheeks and had gently turned the water off, mumbling a soft “Oh Rosie…” before pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, letting his sleepy warmth envelop you and pull you from the horrors of your mind. “I’m here sweetheart. Ain’t never letting you go.” 

You had said nothing, your eyes staring unseeing out the small kitchen window at the frost clinging to the pane. Snowflakes dancing on the howling wind, but you hadn’t heard it. Not over Bradley’s heartbeat in your ears. He had coaxed you back to bed after a while, clutching your hand like he was afraid you would vanish if he let go while you both walked back to your cozy bedroom. “Dearest…” 

“I’m here.” Bradley’s soft voice murmured close to your head as you settled back under the covers. You had drawn a few shaky breaths and curled into his chest, letting a few more tears fall against his chest while Bradley’s strong arms wrapped around you. “I mean every word, Rosie Doll. I’m here.” 

And in his sleep-heavy voice, you believed every word. You had married him, knowing your own trauma and quickly realizing his own after the first few nights spent together. Bradley thrived on touch, choosing to curl into you or hold you to him whenever his demons crept up from the darkest parts of his mind. Even when his memories remained just that, he had a hand on you as often as he could. 

But for now, Bradley held you close, running a large hand up and down your back as he watched sleep claim you as snow whirled past the window. If he could take away everything, he would. His father’s words rattled around in his head as your breathing evened out, “When you love a woman, love her with everything you have.” 

Sleep snuck up on him, and before you both knew it, the alarm clock trilled and Bradley was slipping out of your bed to get ready for his work day. But he never left without waking you gently to murmur an “I love you” against your temple and kiss you sweetly before slipping out the door and making for the Navy Base nearby. 

Now though, now he was here with you, pressing loving kisses to your temple whenever he felt like it. You both were safe, warm, and wrapped up in each other’s embrace as the radio seemed to hum along to your gentle swaying circles around in the dwindling light from the kitchen window. 

“You never did answer me,” you said softly. “I asked you how your day went.”

Bradley hummed noncommittedly. “Better now that I’m here, Rosie doll.” Even now, after nearly a year of marriage, he still was as big a flirt as he had been when the two of you had first met. “But, I do have news. Good news.” 

Pulling back a little to look up at his face, you had to smile as you took in his closed eyes. Bradley looked so content in this moment, like the neighbour’s cat Spot when he curled up in the sunlight down on the street below. For a minute, you could imagine that the two of you hadn’t met in the midst of a brutal conflict as he swayed your bodies gently to and fro in time with the man crooning over the tinny device. “And? What sort of news?” 

“So nosy, my sweet Rosie,” Bradley teased, shooting you a wink as his mouth widened in a boyish grin, the one that quirked his mustache up a little each time. “I ought to make you wait now.” 

“Bradley William Edward Bradshaw,” you began, trying for unamused but you knew your tone betrayed you. “Tell me this instant. If I need to bake up your mother’s shortbread for your big news, I need to know.” 

He shook his head at you, the grin only growing wider as seconds passed. “And what if I wanted your mother’s awful fruitcake instead?”

You shot him an unimpressed look. “Bradley, dearest, that recipe is older than us both combined. It was my grandmother’s pride and joy during the holidays.” 

A quiet chuckle bubbled in his chest. “I know doll, I know. I’m just teasin’. I’ll tell ya the news.” Bradley pulled you back into his arms, smiling as he felt you sigh into his shirt when you relaxed into his arms. “Bossman says that I could be promoted in the next round if I keep performin’ the way I am now.” 

You stiffened in his arms, coming to a standstill. “Promoted? Bradley, that’s wonderful!” A quick glance up had you sealing your lips to his and kissing him deeply. “I’m so proud, my dearest.” 

“All thanks to your love and cooking, Mrs. Bradshaw.” And God help you if your knees didn’t weaken at his words. The pride in both his whiskey-brown eyes shone down on you and his tone, his tone only served to make you more flustered. “I couldn’t have done it without you.” 

Certain that your cheeks were as red as the flower he called you, you turned away shyly. “Oh come now. A few meals doesn’t equate the hard work you’ve been putting in.” 

“Nonsense!” Catching your chin and directing your face back to him, Bradley continued “Without those meals and the incredible woman waiting on me back here in OUR home, I wouldn’t be nearly half as successful. So, Rosie. You were instrumental in this.” 

You rolled your eyes fondly. “Alright then, Mr. Bradshaw. Maybe I did help a little.” His thumb traced gently along your cheekbone, and you leaned softly into his touch. 

“That’s my girl,” he praised, leaning down to kiss you once more. “I won’t stand to have you go unappreciated, you hear?”

You found your hand creeping around the back of his neck and toying with the fine hairs at the base of it, wondering at how you had gotten so lucky to have this man, this gentle, kind, loving man. 

It's deeper dear by far 

Than any ocean

I find that day by day 

You're making all my dreams come true

Bradley had become everything you were unknowingly looking for. As much as you hated everything that had transpired for the two of you to meet, you had to admit that the stolen moments between the two of you during the war had given you a hope you had both been lacking. 

So come what may 

I want you to know

I'm yours alone 

So as Bradley spun you gently, you hummed in response. “I suppose not.” The music changed, joyfully opening Nat King Cole’s Joy to the World, and trumpets kicked in jovially, startling your husband to the point he grabbed you tightly and pulled you to him like he was trying to protect you from some unseen enemy. 

He chuckled awkwardly, letting go of his tight grip on your hip and shoulder. “Sorry Rosie honey, damn trumpets scared the wits out of me.” But despite the smile plastered on his face, you saw the haunted look in his eyes, the same one that crept into your own on occasion. “Didn’t mean to give you a fright.” 

Instead of replying, you rose on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “No harm done, dearest.” In these moments, all you could do was offer your presence like he did for you. The time spent together during the war had been far removed from the realities the two of you had faced apart and now, standing barefoot on the cool living room floor, you couldn’t have pictured your life now. 

“Rosie… I’m not… perfect. I still… ya know. I barely sleep through the night, I can’t hold my wife in my arms and dance to her favorite Christmas song because the trumpets startle me every time. Why…?” 

You gave him a firm look, stilling in your movement. “None of that. You hold nothing against me, dearest. Not even my most insane moments. Why on God’s green Earth would I do the same to you?” The words poured from your lips like a fountain, racing free and refusing to let you breathe. They had choked you from the moment Bradley had pulled back, freezing like he expected to find himself curled in a foxhole, fighting for his life. “I married you. I knew you weren’t a perfect man, but you were perfect for me, and that’s all that matters. Do you hear me?” 

He nodded, pulling you into a hug and buried his face in your neck. You could feel tears pouring down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking as he cried. Saying nothing, you let your eyes fall closed, running a gentle hand up and down his back, trying to soothe him. “I love you,” you murmured softly. “My handsome sailor, so strong and brave. You saved me.” 

You weren’t sure how long you stood like that, only that a few songs had started and ended. Bradley’s neck and back had to be hurting him, but he was content to stay in your arms, hiding from the world. Eventually, he pulled back, wiping his eyes with a shy look. “Thank you,” he muttered, his voice raspy. “I needed that.” 

The two of you were a few inches apart, chests nearly touching, yet unlike the last minutes, hours, you weren’t touching. “I know.” The words were soft, like saying them any louder would shatter the bubble around you, like they would let in the darkness. “I married you, Bradley Bradshaw, don’t you dare tell me that I made a mistake taking your name and your mother’s ring.” 

He grinned at you, the previous moment’s sorrow seemingly falling to the wayside. “Yes ma’am. Now, do I get my mother’s shortbread or not?” 

You swatted his chest, hiding your smile. “If you don’t get out of my kitchen, then you won’t get anything,” you teased, moving out of his grabbing hands and further into the room, hissing as your feet touched the cold floor. 

“Is that so, my Rosie?” You could hear the grin in his voice, knowing that it was all over his face without even having to turn around to face your husband. “Your kitchen, your house, anything else you want to label as yours?” 

Spinning around, your hands on your hips, you faced him and rolled your eyes at his antics. “I believe I did a year ago when I married you. Isn’t that right, my husband?” The fondness in your voice betrayed the sharp look you were trying and failing to muster up. 

Bradley stepped forwards, crowding you. “I will never cease to love hearing you say those words, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he whispered lowly, pecking the side of your mouth before pulling away and meandering into the small living room. “Need any help with the tree, doll?” 

Drawing a deep breath, you brushed your hands over your apron, taking a minute to collect yourself. “I think I have it under control, dearest,” you told him, coming around the corner to see him elbow deep in the crate of Christmas decorations that you and he had collected from your families. “Unless you want to get started while I start with the shortbread?” 

“Rosie, honey. We just finished dinner and I had to fight you to let me help with the dishes. Take the apron off and let’s decorate the tree, okay?” Bradley wheedled, gently placing the tree angel on the table before making his way to you and taking your hands in his own. “Please doll? Who knows if I’ll be home next Christmas and I don’t want to start without you.” 

“Alright, alright, but I’m making tea before I do anything else.” Under his brown-eyed stare, now shining like the colour of good ale, you were helpless to resist. 

The smile Bradley gave you was so full of happiness that you couldn’t help but smile too. So, minutes later, when you emerged from the kitchen yet again with two cups of tea and you found your husband tangled up in a garland that had to have been your mother’s given the shade of red, you had to laugh. “Bradley! What in the world…?” 

“Sorry Rosie, got a little caught up in the excitement.” The grin he shot you was sheepish and you burst out laughing at the sight. “Okay, come on. Quit your cackling, neighbours are gonna think it’s Halloween not Christmas if you keep that up.” 

Setting the teacups down, you pressed a hand to your mouth, shoulders shaking as you stifled your laughter. Bradley had somehow looped the garland around his neck and shoulder, pinning his arms to his sides as he tried to glare in your direction. “How in the…. You really tied yourself up tighter than a Christmas goose, didn’t you dearest?” 

Bradley snorted, the sound so undignified and unexpected that it startled a snort of your own to escape through your hands. “Okay, okay. I know, I look ridiculous.” 

“Only a little, dearest. Let me help you,” you replied, trying your best to look sympathetic to his obvious plight. You began to unwind the garland from his arms, smiling to yourself as you watched yourself in his brown eyes. A combination of love and embarrassment seeped out of him and you hummed along to the brass band playing from the radio, trying to keep your mind from wandering. 

A few minutes passed, the room filled with little more than the faint music and the sound of your’s and Bradley’s gentle breathing. Then you found the loop of the knot and gave it a pull. The garland fluttered to the floor, landing with a soft ‘thump’. “There we are,” you said softly, stooping to pick it up. “Finally free. Now to put it on the tree where it belongs.”

Bradley’s hand on your hip stopped you in your tracks. “Rosie…”

“Yes, my love?” 

“Thank you,” he whispered, lips brushing against the skin of your cheek. “For freeing me, for loving me. For everything…”

You turned into his touch, leaning up on your toes to kiss him sweetly. “You needn’t thank me for something so simple, Bradley. Thank me when it becomes a chore to do something so simple, which will never be.” A brush of your fingers against his forehead, moving his hair, had him melting into your touch, sighing softly. “Now, let us decorate the tree.” 

Bradley nodded, smiling down at you. You had so easily become the best part of his life, then again, you two had met in the middle of one of the biggest conflicts the world had ever seen. But beyond that, you gave him a reason to smile, filled his heart and your home with light even when it felt like the dark was closing in. He appreciated you more than you could ever realize and he had known the minute he proposed that you were the very balm to his jagged soul. 

The softness in your touch despite horrors unseen stunned him at every opportunity and if he had the chance, he would marry you all over again, if only to see the love in his own eyes mirrored in your once more. 

“But,” Bradley said to himself. “All I have to do is meet her eyes now. She loves me for me, not in spite of my demons.” 

“Bradley?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Can you help me?” He snapped out of his head, finding you on your tiptoes, trying to string the rest of the garland through the tree branches, but failing because you couldn’t reach. “You bought another damn tree that is too tall for me to do it on my own.” 

 “Maybe I want you to ask me for help,” he replied, smiling at you. “Maybe I should start putting things on the higher shelves if only so you would ask.”

You dropped the garland in your hands, glaring at him in the most mocking way. “Bradley Bradshaw. You wouldn’t.” 

“Would too,” he replied with a wide grin. “I know you can do it, but I always want to help.” 

“Here.” You handed him the end of the red ribbon. “Work your magic on those upper branches and I will start on the bows.” You had intentionally ignored his last statement, doing your best to maintain a straight face, but his words had turned your spine to liquid and you fought the urge to swoon. 

“As you wish, Rosie,” Bradley said with a wink in your direction, beginning to effortlessly weave the garland through the top boughs all while you stood ramrod straight like a doctor was chewing you out. The only difference was the warmth in your cheeks was from the flirtatious nature of your husband rather than shame at a perceived error in care. 

Red bows in hand, you began to tie them to the green boughs, smirking when an idea popped into your head. As gently as you could manage, you brought a bow up, tying it to the belt loop of his pants as quickly as you could. You continued in this pattern, one for the tree branches, another added to the now impressive collection of red bows around Bradley’s hips. 

You were being as quiet as you could, but giggles still escaped you when you went back to the crate full of decorations. What you didn’t know however, was that Bradley had noticed your little prank almost immediately. 

His focus on your soft humming to Glen Miller had been broken when you stopped suddenly. One look down and he saw a bright red bow tied to his trousers, all the while, your shoulders were shaking with silent giggles. Bradley had elected to ignore it, trying to see if you would give yourself away, but you never did. 

“Rosie…” he began, turning to face your back as you grabbed the last of the bows. “Why do I have bows all over me?” 

A giggle broke free as you faced him. “I don’t know, dearest.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, humor glinting in his eyes. “Is that so? You have no idea?” 

“Not the foggiest, my love. Perhaps some elves snuck in and decided that you were worthy of being under the tree.” You shrugged, a grin playing on your lips as you approached him. “I can’t say I blame them either.” 

Bradley reached out, grabbing you by the hips. “That’s my line, Rosie doll,” he chided in a teasing tone. “If you wanted me that badly, all you had to do was ask.” 

Heat spread from your face down your neck and up to your ears under his cocky smile. “The tree is half-done, Bradley. Let’s finish that first before we get distracted by… other things,” you tried to compromise. 

“Sure thing, doll. But first,” Bradley leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. You gasped against his mouth, hands balling up his shirt as he pulled you closer. His tongue mingled with yours and you seemed to fall into him, surrendering the kiss to him and letting him take control. 

When he did pull away, he was pleased by the haziness of your eyes and the redness of your lips. You stammered a little before snatching one of the bows from his waistband and set it atop his head. “There. Now you are ready,” you said with a wide smile. “The only gift I need.” 

Bradley laughed, shaking his head at your antics. “You call me a flirt and a tease nearly every day, Rosie… are you trying to take that from me?” 

You shook your head, still smiling widely. “No. I just… I can’t help it. Maybe the Christmas spirit is infectious and I caught it from the Hilsmans and their obnoxious lights display?” The smile only grew when he bent down to kiss you sweetly, your eyes fluttering in the softness of the gesture. 

“Come now. As you said, the tree is only half done. It won’t match the goddamn Hilsmans and those lights so bright they would blind the damn Air Force if they flew over the block, but it’s just us,” he hummed, pulling a bow from his trousers and tying it to the boughs overhead. 

The two of you worked quickly, the gentle silence broken only by the crooning of Bing Crosby as he sang about a winter wonderland and snowmen. It added to the warmth in your heart and your eyes as they were drawn over and over again to your husband, who was fixing a small bell to the highest branch he could. 

Side by side in the warmth of your apartment, you both finished the tree shortly. As you stepped back from the tree to admire your handiwork, you felt Bradley’s hand on the small of your back, the heat from his palm warming through the fabric of your shirt. “Rosie,” he began, smiling down at the little angel in his other hand. “My folks had this tradition of sorts…”

“Oh? And what was it?” You ask softly, turning into his side. The heat from his body sunk into your skin, wrapping you in an embrace. “Why didn’t we do it last year?” 

Bradley swallowed and you could tell that he was fighting tears as he looked at the small tree topper. “My pop used to… he used to lift my mama up every Christmas while they were putting the tree together, joking about how she was the real angel and should be on top of the tree, not this little thing,” he chuckled wetly as he looked at you. “Figured we could keep that tradition going if you wanted, Rosie.” 

“Oh Bradley…” You soothed, squeezing his arm gently. “That sounds like the sweetest tradition.” 

He sniffed, nodding as he met your eyes. “It really was. I always told myself that if I were ever lucky enough to find someone I loved as much as they loved each other, that I… well, ya know…” 

“You wanted to keep their love alive,” you finished softly. “I’d be happy to continue that tradition, Bradley. It sounds just lovely.” And you meant it. From everything you had heard about Nicholas Bradshaw, or as he had been known to friends, Nick, it sounded exactly like something he would do. “Come on, let’s get that angel on the tree and then I’ll make us some tea that isn’t cold.” 

Bradley handed you the cloth small angel, no bigger than six or seven inches tall, dressed in white with hair made of yellow thread. You cradled it gently, tracing over the dress with a soft touch. “Pops always said that it looked like my mama, it was the reason he started the joke in the first place. I asked him about putting the angel on the tree and he lifted up my mama like she weighed nothing. He asked me if I wanted to help put her on top of the tree. I laughed and laughed, I had never heard anything so funny…” He trailed off, looking wistfully at the tree before you both. “I remember telling him that that was mama not the angel and he just got this look on his face… told me to grab the angel and give it to her so that our angel could stay with us and the tree had the fake one. It never failed to make her smile…” 

“That’s beautiful, dearest,” you hummed, glancing up at him. “Your parents sounded like they had so much love to give, Bradley. Just like you do. And while I might not necessarily look like this angel here, why don’t we fool Heaven a few days longer, hmm?” 

The look Bradley gave you was so full of gratitude that you swore he nearly fell over. “Yeah?” He asked, scarcely able to believe what he heard. This was something so unique, so personal, something that he was convinced that he would never be able to find outside his parents. The tradition had been something he had only ever heard of from his parents and here you were, so open to accepting this tradition as one of your own without hesitation. 

“Of course. It means this much to you, I would be a horrid, evil little troll if I said no. Not that I ever would, because it is such a beautiful idea and something that is a part of the Bradshaw name,” you replied, a small smile adorning your features. “And this ring on my finger made me one of your small, but very loving, kind, and gentle clan. I would be honored to continue this with you.” 

Fingers brushed against your cheek, gently tipping your head up to face your husband. His whiskey eyes shimmered with unshed tears, a furrow had seemed to take over his brow, one that you quickly smoothed over with a gentle touch. He leaned into your hand, his eyes falling shut while he tried to rein in his grief. “Bradley… shall we?” 

“Hmm?” he answered in a broken voice. “Yeah Rosie, let’s put my angel on the tree.” His hands found your hips, spinning you around and lifting you up high enough to jokingly put you on the tree. 

A giggle fell from your lips before you could stop it and Bradley lowered you back down, the angel still in your hands, while you shook in his arms. “I’m sorry,” you breathed. “I couldn’t help it.” 

Bradley smiled at you, the tears in his eyes receding a little. “I know, but my mama always laughed too, so it’s perfect. One more time?” 

You nodded and up you went once more, but this time, you stretched your arm out, gingerly placing the angel on top of the tree. A tap to his arm had him lowering you back to the ground, and when your feet touched the floor, you surged forward, wrapping in your arms with a soft “thank you.”

“What’re you thanking me for, Rosie doll? I should be thanking you.” 

“Thank you for letting me be a part of this, Bradley. Your family is just lovely and I love that I can keep their memories alive,” you whispered. 

Bradley didn’t say anything, just let himself be wrapped in your embrace all the while looking up at the angel sitting atop your tree. This wouldn’t be the last time this tradition would be done, all thanks to you. So while Ella Fitzgerald sang about Santa Claus, Bradley held you close and began to sway under the watchful eye of the angel and for a moment, he swore she smiled at the sight. 

His love for you grew three sizes that day, and Bradley knew that without a doubt you were the reason his life was as good as it was. You, his Rosie, had brought him back, piece by piece and he never wanted to leave you. 

He was yours forever, never once wavering in his devotion to you. The reason his house became a home during the holidays.  

And I'm in love to stay

As we go through the years 

Day by day

===

A/N: Hey all! Hope you enjoyed this latest instalment of Roo and Rosie. Big thank you to @startrekfangirl2233 for kicking my butt a little and making sure that this wasn’t complete garbage and thank you to @sarahsmi13s for being so incredible when it comes to these two!

Tagging: @horseshoegirl @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @dakotakazansky @roosterforme @cherrycola27

#WinterRomComChallenge #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #wwii au #(holi)day by day #winter fics #top gun maverick #historical au #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic

[surshica]

NINTENDO SWITCH !

NINETEEN - greedy for love

masterlist <3

AN : there is probably so many typos and errors but like ITS OKAY yall can shit on me abt it, my feelings dont get hurt that easily 😭😭 this is an apology for the last chapter BUT IT MAKES UP FOR IT EHHEHEHEHEHE. based of the song greedy by miss ariana grande

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

“it was a misunderstandingggg im sorryyy” mira fake cried shaking chishiya whom was sitting on her chair near her desk; the unamused look on his face gave everything away. shock and horror washed through mira, “no you know what! i couldve just name dropped her if you wanted too!” “that would’ve made it better huh? huh chishi?!” pushed his shoulder a little harsh crowing her arms together pointing her nose to the air.

“no that would’ve made it worse since it would make me like like a pussy” he groaned putting his hands on the shoulder mira pushed. “EXACTLY so don’t go acting mad at me for saying her.” mira scoffed sticking out her tongue. chishiya let out an amused huff.

he was quiet upset but at the end there was literally nothing he could do since he waited so long bundling up his feelings. “still though..you could’ve said you were joking.” “and you shouldn’t of bundled up those feelings you’ve had for her!” “fair.” “very much fair.”

“and does she know i like her?” an amused grin popped up on his face as mira shrugged her shoulders, “she may be stupid but she probably isn’t that fucking stupid.” “well maybe! but she is a smart girl i think she figured it out when she had the sleepover with the girls..” mira smacked her lips twice before plopping her self onto the bed.

the soft compact of the mattress against her back made her smile, turning her head to face chishiya “to be honest. both of you suck at your feelings.” mira’s words felt as cold as ice. her eyes were empty as if they had no life in it, “ouch?” chishiya playfully frowned.

“i mean it is the truth,” a long dramatic sigh left her lips “ i mean i have so many reasons as to why you both suck and think it’s unreciprocated love.” she moved her head to look at the bland white ceiling with circle shaped lights engraved into it. “go on. im introduced in your thought.” chishiya was quite intrigued. he felt as if he did his best to be flirty with her in his own chishiya like manners.

“well for starters! you suck at giving signs, she thought you were just challenging her to some MORE academics which pushed the agenda of her wanting to be rivals with you. she even vowed TO HERSELF she was going to be rivals with you till she dies. she completely mistook you being a tease in a loving way for you wanting to be better than her!” mira had a thin a-line smile as chishiya furrowed his eyebrows letting out a small hum.

“secondly! you yourself chishiya, you’re like a heartthrob that doesn’t want to be a heartthrob. you have all these girls wanting to marry you so yn probably took that as you never looked at the way she looked at you! which makes me laugh..you can’t even express your feelings and you always have the same look on your face! like YOU HAVE A NICE SMILE WHY DONT YOU TRY SMILING INSTEAD OF GRINNING for a change!” mira three her hands up in the air as chishiya gave her the disappointed parent look.

“there are so many more reasons but thirdly, god you are so hard to break through. you’re always serious and maybe for a change you could like loosen up, you’re so head focused on your studies that sometimes you forget that the whole academic rivals is an act. AND GOING BACK TO REASON ONE IT TIES IN. like chishiya sometimes i want too just—“ mira was cut off by him throwing a plushie at her face. “OKAY OKAY. i understand jeez.”

mira rolled her eyes lifting herself up going the the kitchen living room with chishiya trailing behind her, “i understand damn. that felt more like a let’s hate on chishiya moment then a tell me an actual reason moment.” he rolled his eyes grabbing a water bottle from the fridge as mira sat herself on the counter eating a bag of cookies.

“everyday is an i hate chishiya moment. the way you cock a grin, hell even a smirk makes me want to deck you in the face. you rich bastard” mira munched on her chips—chishiya faked a hurt looked expression on his face. “that hurt.” he blunted. mira shrugged her shoulders; the sound of yn’s door room opening caught both of their attention.

“miraaa, do we have anymore green tea bottles~” yn had a tired like whine escape her lip; “check the fridge i think i bought more!” mira continued to munch on her cookies. chishiya opened the fridge handing yn a cold green tea bottle, “here.” a small think lip smile was predominate on his face.

yn’s mouth formed an o shape looking up at him, she took the bottle from him. her fingers grazed his; the ever so slightest blush formed on her cheeks, she shook it off remember that he had a girl. chishiya’s usual hard cold stare softened when he looked at her. he hated the idea of misunderstandings; he wanted to clear up this air but he didn’t know how too.

mira read the room and cocked a grin on her lips, “if you need me i’ll be in my room watching some horimiyaaa~” she jumped down from the counter skipping to her room. the two just stood near eachother in silence, it was very tense almost as if it was waiting for someone to talk. it was like that for a good soild five minutes.

chishiya cleared his throat, he softened gaze couldn’t look away from hers. the red undertones from what looked like tears; the puffiness. he wanted to hold her. “yn.” his voice didn’t come out louder than he expected—it was soft yet stern. “chishiya. what are you doing here?” her voice was harsh yet gentle.

“well..well i was here because mira invited me here.” a small oh escaped her lips, a forced like smile was formed on her lips “that’s nice! i’m studying for the mid term tomorrow,” yn sighed “its really kicking my ass.” chishiya chuckled at that. “i forgot that we had that..just my luck.” chishiya had stuffed his hands in his pockets. his eyes slowly wandered around her face. his eyes landed on his soft lips, so many thoughts had wondered through his mind.

“well isn’t that just my luck! i can finally beat you in something, god. that makes me feel so..” an actual smile was shown on her lips. it was almost out of pure excitement. “so..???” “so..happy.”

“i could finally kick your ass in something that matters, this is my victory right here. i cracked the key.” yn had taken a swig of the green tea sighing in pure bliss; chishiya furrowed his eyebrows walking closer to the girl—closing the gap between them. his eyes moved from her lips to her eyes. yn’s eyes had a look as if it had a plan behind it.

yn had figured out chishiya wasn’t looking at her eyes anymore. a smirk formed on her lips, “you know chishiya we all can’t have what we want.” she sucked on her teeth. her eyes had a seduced like look that captivated chishiya. “and for that you are a greedy bastard.” chishiya was not even in his right state of mind. the thoughts had flowed through his mind, so many intrusive thoughts.

the thought of having her in his arms, the thought of her lips against hers, the thought of her cuddling up to his body. god he wanted all of that. he scoffed at the idea of him being greedy. he wasn’t greedy.

yn had pulled herself closer to chishiya, getting on her tippy toes to become ever so slightly his height, she wasn’t shorter then him but wasn’t taller either. “the greed has finally gotten into you chishiya. and im laughing.” she whispered in his ear with a smirk like smile prompted on her face.

chishiya’s breathing was hitched for a second, maybe a second too long. yn planted a soft kiss on his cheek; she got off her tippy toes turning her heel to go back to her room. the soft lips against his cheek made him blush.

it had snapped him out his daydream; he thought to himself maybe he wouldn’t have this opportunity again to be so close to her. he couldn’t let it slip. he really couldn’t. he had let his intrusive thoughts get the best of him.

“fuck it.” he grumbled—he grabbed yn by the wrist spinning her around to him; it took her by surpise. he lifted her up seating her on the countertop, “me greedy? im never greedy” he snarled at her, smashing his lips against hers.

the kiss was rough catching yn by surprise, to say she enjoyed it would be an understatement. a surge of butterflies had formed in her stomach; heat rushing to her face, wrapping her arms around his neck. her smirk liked grin turned into an excited smile. she kissed him back with the same rough tone but ever so slightly softer. chishiya had wrapped her arms around her waist, a smile had formed on his lips.

“god i should’ve done this way before…” he groaned as he broke off the kiss, more heat rushed to her face as he broke off the kiss. “you’re so annoying and greedy chishiya..” she rolled her eyes pulling him back in for another kiss.

﹙ᴗ﹏ᴗ﹚･｡ ⁺ ✦

tags !!

pink doesn’t work

@crinklypink @flrtsbin @4pparecium @afckingswiftiebtch @em-asian @saiewithakatana @minyoungieee @eternal-gf @kimtaehussy @theinfaethablefig @elakari @too-many-fandoms666 @lastheavcns @pyrrhicgaze @andreeasancheez @hadesdaughtwr @Iserluver @urgodmoon @nmsl0v3r @lowilaufeyson @dee-dino-man @chiishiiya @444neapolitain @wroophruh @vensworld @starsval @dr3amscap3 @kuinaheartz @bre99 @cheshireshiya @eissaaaa @sollum @conny1111 @luvelyxp @shinobuily @gelliyo @fanfangying1304 @ikon-teen @stay-moa-army @bbyjackie @naegisimp @midlystupid @yvrikoo @chepoyo @luv4kuina @vernon-dursley @itadorim @vseqvt @shigamiryuk @wonswoorld @elisiumnie @abyloxk @asoullessentity @seventeensstrawberry @cupidsaster @bubblycloudy

#chishiya x reader #aib chishiya #alice in boderland x reader #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya headcanons #chishiya fluff #chishiya imagine #chishiya smau #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya fic #꒰ა 🎧 ─ nintendo switch : .. ꒱ #- surshica ♥︎

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- Part 2

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham fic, TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse etc.

---

"What do you see?" asks Hannibal, forcing you, by an immovable hand at the base of your neck, to stare at your reflection in the mirror. "Speak the truth. It won't shock me, nor should you be ashamed of it."

You have already attempted to close your eyes against the glass, and were gently threatened into opening them again. Now you force your gaze to unfocus, refusing Hannibal in a way that even he surely cannot discern.

He says your name into the quiet with a subtle, yet dangerous edge. It is so rarely used now that you jolt almost guiltily, unsure whether, like Will, Dr Lecter can be frenzied to strike you.

Hannibal's threat is more of a sleek, hunting animal, you think, cunning and serene; he can be cruel in a manner of exact and elegant genius, the bruising of the psyche, and the soul.

"Don't disobey me," he says. "You will not welcome my disappointment."

A tremble of doe-like terror wreathes you in its grasp.

"Doctor," you whisper. "I want to quit. I'll pay you the money my parents sent for me to come here; I'm not a child, and I don't need any of this. I'm not playing your game. Please let me go home."

There is certainly no chance that your family are aware of and approve of this treatment; it is torture under a clinical guise, a sinister, sexual sadism.

Still you cannot deny that the longer you remain here, the more you begin to see Hannibal and Will in the roles that they take within these walls: the strict, hard-handed father, the nurturing and gentle dad.

Each are relentless in their goal to reduce you to their supplicant doll, driving you further into the same hungering madness they wish to cure.

"You cannot leave here," says Hannibal, almost affably. "Your family unburdened themselves by releasing you to more comprehending hands. They think less of your wellbeing, and more of the weight that they no longer carry. Do you believe they would accept you back if you were not cured?"

"There is no cure," you say, bitterly. "You said it yourself. No cure, just recovery and maintenance."

Hannibal strokes the back of your neck, soothing you even as you shudder in repulsion.

"And do you trust yourself to do that alone?"

You don't answer, sinking miserably against the man at your back if only so that you do not fall to the floor in your despair.

"Tell me, little one," Hannibal commands, and his left hand comes down your shoulder, across your breast, tracing your hip with the ease of ownership. "What do you see?"

Swaying, crying, you blink at the horror in the looking glass, this imperfect beast in the arms of so evil and oddly beautiful a man.

"Failure," you spit. "It's disgusting."

Hannibal leans into you, breathing in the scent of your hair, and kisses your temple.

"I see a perfect little girl. Or else one with the potential to be."

You shake your head, certain that he is taunting you. That he is not repulsed seems an impossibility; Will certainly makes no attempts to hide his disdain, even when he fucks you.

"I do not lie to my patients," Hannibal insists. "With instruction, discipline, and loving guidance, you will become everything you should already be."

Warmth under your skirt; Hannibal's fingers cupping your wretched heat, pressing themselves into a self-loathing wetness, a sobbing response to his words.

"You shouldn't do this to me," you say, as always, repeated like a prayer, all frantic fervour. "You're my doctor. You're hurting me."

"It's what is required for you to change. Why do you cling to your chrysalis when it no longer serves you? There is no sustenance in it. You hold yourself here because it is safe. Because it is known. You have grown to love the illness like family."

He circles the heart of your folds with fingers that know you with the certainty of language.

"I suggest that you exchange the subject of your affections for those that will return it."

His lips are soft against your neck, an angel come down in a romantic painting, or fallen, rather.

Your vision of the creature in the mirror disappears into a prism of tears.

"You don't love me, really," you whisper. "And Will... he hates me."

Hannibal pushes you forwards, against the mirror, bending your form in a balletic motion. You are glad that you cannot see yourself in such close proximity to the glass, only the pupil of your eye, black and endless.

"He does not hate you," says Hannibal, softly. "He is gripped by desires that anger him, for he neither wants nor understands them."

Your legs are eased apart, and you whimper as a sudden thickness parts you like a scroll.

"Sometimes he watches you when you sleep," Hannibal tells you. "He finds such beauty in you, when you allow yourself to dream."

#manna fic #ao3 writer #dark fic #hannibal lecter #dark hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #will graham mention #hannibal fic #tw eating disorders #tw anorexia #dead dove do not eat #darkfic #dark!fic

[rivetgoth]

I keep thinking about Ogre talking about the art direction of his current performances being a sign of how he’s doing well in life right now. Ogre talking about authenticity in art and the blood and horror and viscera of early Skuppy being a very authentic and therapeutic expression of his mental health and self harming and suicidal ideation, and the way it turned into something less authentic as time went on and he started upping the ante less for himself and more because he felt like he had a name/image he had to live up to or outdo, and the way fake blood turned to real blood and catharsis became self harm all over again and the way he feels his fans caring about his health and safety over the level of horror in his art was so meaningful to him. He’s told that story a few times, about the fans who got ahold of his hotel number after a night where we cut himself deeper than intended and called him after the show to tell him that he didn’t have to hurt himself for their entertainment. And Ogre discussing his intention to perform something authentic based in his current state and where he is in life and him saying he’s doing well!! Even as the struggles with mental health have been something he’s continued to deal with. It makes me so happy. Ogre’s desire for authenticity and his willingness to go against expectation and potentially even “disappoint” in favor of creating something honest… Paired with the fact that his authentic and honest self is someone healthier and happier than before… Seriously just makes me so so so happy and inspires me so much. Blood and horror and gore in art is not just for shock value and is not just for entertainment and for Skinny Puppy especially was never just a motif for the sake of edginess or aesthetic but in fact can be such a vehicle and outlet for such a rich nuanced exploration of the human experience. But it’s also so so so so so so cool to see Ogre’s willingness to move on from it in order to show the growth in both his interests and his health. And it’s inspiring to me as an artist to see someone I so adore and am inspired by embrace positive change and growth and allow the art to change alongside it. I love you and I wish nothing less than the world for you.

#that and I’m sure him being allergic to red dye helps give him incentive to come up with less bloody stageshows lol #but even that’s valid like I don’t want him to be sick so!! 😭

[soniccrazygal]

A Matter of ‘Pride’

Mike paced back and forth in his ‘bedroom’, the sound of creaking metallic joints and soft thuds from his heavy steps filling the silent air. He wasn’t exactly sure how long he had been locked and isolated in his room as his internal clock had been deactivated and there wasn’t any other means to truly mark the passage of time. Mike’s best guess was that it had been several days, maybe even a week based on the times he’s had to recharge.

It felt far longer than that though as every second had felt like an eternity as he agonized over how his siblings were doing without him there to help protect them and without him to play peacekeeper when the stress got too much. Elizabeth and Gregory especially were usually at odds with each other…

Oh Superstar… I’m so sorry… Mike thought mournfully, his stride a bit unsteady as fresh guilt flooded him. He had naively believed that simply getting the younger out of the Pizzaplex would be enough to save him from the horrors that lurked beneath it, but now the poor child had to deal with being recently murdered, sharing a body not meant for him, and forced to comply under the rule of his killer.

Gregory was understandably chafing against the restrictions of this new ‘life’ and lashing out when he could. He barely had time to even mourn his death before William had started cracking down on his ‘behavior’. Elizabeth wasn’t helping matters by being more quick to fall and line and saying that Gregory should do the same.

And I left them alone… Mike though guiltily, pace picking up as anxious energy flowed through him. Granted he hadn’t been given much of a choice. Mike still couldn’t believe the audacity William had to ‘suggest’ they have ‘family bonding time’ every day and just assume they would all be okay with it.

Like they’ve been a family in decades.

Of course Mike had scoffed at the very idea and made it clear he refused to entertain William’s delusions that they could ever return to what they once were. The result had been Mike getting shocked for his words and locked in his room.

“Have you been stewing in the consequences of your own actions enough yet?” William asked casually from where he leaned in the doorway, making Mike jump and whip around in surprise. “Or you do still need a few more days to get over your stubborn pride?”

“My pride?” Mike snarled in disbelief and anger, giving his ‘father’ a hateful glare. “It isn’t pride that makes me refuse to spend time playing board games with a child killing psychopath! Why would I ever want to act like we’re still family you monstrous delusional fre-!”

Mike cut off with a wince of pain as the shocking system activated, hunching over slightly as the painful electricity flooded his body before dissipating. William gave Mike a disappointed look as he said, “Michael… haven’t I made it clear that you will always be my son? I will always love you and want you to be apart of my family, despite your previous attempts to destroy it by being the cause of your siblings deaths.”

Mike knew William was just preying on his old wounds to manipulate him, but the stab of guilt that went through him still felt far more painful than the electricity that had been hurting him just a moment earlier.

“That isn’t fair,” Mike said, trying his best to sound firm. “You can’t blame me for everything you’ve done…”

“Perhaps not, but there wouldn’t have been nearly as many deaths if you hadn’t kept impeding my progress,” William replied, standing up straight and stepping fully into the room. “And never forget that you’re a murderer too. You killed Evan and I’m the one that had to figure out how to put him back together.”

“It was an accident…” Mike weakly defended as he instinctively took a step back, all his old guilt and self loathing being dragged to the surface at William’s words. “I-I didn’t mean to… not like you!”

“I simply did what I had to to save this family,” William replied coldly as he stepped even closer, looming over Mike. “Nothing is more important to me than this family and I will do whatever it takes to make sure it remains intact and eternal. Something I would think you’d appreciate as I made sure you wouldn’t be able to harm your siblings ever again.”

“I’d never do anything to hurt them!” Mike shouted back, hating how easily William was able to make him feel like a simple rebellious teenager again.

“And yet you’re doing just that now,” William pressed on, not giving Mike time to organize his thoughts. “They’ve been asking about you you know? Asking how you’re doing and if they can see you… They miss you Michael and I hate denying them something so basic as being able to see you, but I can’t let your stubbornness go unchecked, not anymore. So ask yourself Michael… is your pride in refusing to spend a few hours with me and the whole family each day really worth not being able spend the rest of your time with them?”

Mike knew William wasn’t right, not really, but there was no point in trying to convince the madman of things like logic and morals. And in the end, Mike couldn’t deny that William had a point. Trying to deny William’s ‘request’ for time with the whole family was not worth being kept isolated from his siblings. He couldn’t leave them alone to face William without him there to be a buffer from the madman’s wrath and to provide what little comfort and protection he could.

Mike hated it, but he had no choice but to play along in this instance.

“Alright…” Mike sighed in defeat, his entire posture slumping a bit as he submitted to William’s demands. “I’ll participate in your stupid family bonding activities… just let me be able to be with my siblings again!”

“See… was that so hard?” William said with a pleased smile. “If you just obey me like you should, then I wouldn’t be forced to punish you like this so often. Come then, let’s go tell Evan and Elizabeth the good news.”

Mike had to force himself to remain silent as he had a lot of choice words he wanted to yell at William, but he couldn’t risk losing this chance to finally be back with his siblings again. William lead the way into the main room and the moment Evan and Elizabeth spotted Mike tailing behind him, the both lit up with relieved smiles.

“Mikey!” They both shouted in excitement as they ran forward to hug their brother, Mike automatically kneeling down to accept them into his arms.

“I missed you so much Mikey!” Elizabeth said as she squeezed Mike. “Don’t go away for that long again!”

“Gregory and I were trying to figure out how to sneak in to see you,” Evan whispered as he pressed up against Mike. “But we were worried we’d just get you in more trouble…”

“I’m here now though,” Mike assured as he held them close. “And I promise I’ll try not to leave you guys alone that long again…”

He knew that promise would mean complying more to William’s wishes, but Mike still made the promise anyway. His siblings were the most important thing to him and he had to be here for them in any way he could. He would always end up putting them first no matter what.

And from the smug smile Mike could see on William’s face… his father knew that too…

#rebuilt au #fnaf #william afton #michael afton #five nights at freddy's

[mythsandheather]

I've been pretty curious about the LO Critical side. I'm asking genuinely but what are the reasons why LO has such a strong anti Fandom.

Do people not like it? I was curious because it seems like a lot of lo critical/anti lo blogs seem to enjoy certain aspects and characters. Is it the author people don't enjoy?

Like I said I'm really being genuine. I think people have the right to have like their own critical space for a free webcomic. It's just interesting because it's like. This Fandom has a second Fandom of people who seem to hate the comic.

The anti community for any fandom is sure to be a complex place that’s usually, in my experience, more built on pain and disappointment than anything else. Pain because something important to you no longer provides comfort, maybe even perpetrates harmful themes for your own personal experiences, and disappointment because this is something you used to love and you wish could be better.

There’s two parts of the anti community for LO. There’s one part that, as you said, still holds some affection for the series, for memories attached to it and for some characters. There’s also another part that, again as you said, straight up just hate it.

I’ll briefly touch on the first part. They can see so clearly how LO could be infinitely better and that’s frustrating. They can see all the flaws they didn’t notice or didn’t want to see before and are exasperated by why it’s allowed to continue this way. Let’s not forget that a significant number of LO’s critics are people who were young teens and read it in their formative years without realising what they were being so carelessly exposed to.

With that realisation, there’s a level of anger and horror at learning what was put in front of them, marketed as safe and heavily promoted at every turn, and it’s only gotten worse over time. That must be an absolutely gut-wrenching thing to feel over something you loved once.

So in that sense, you’re correct; a big part of the anger comes down to Rachel herself and her choices.

Then there’s the other part of the anti fandom, the part that just out and out hates it and always has. This is where yours truly fits in.

Now, I was super active on tumblr during 2014-2017, when fandoms like Steven Universe, FNAF and Undertale were at their peak. I had to learn, trial by fire, how to be real critical of any media I consumed. There is certainly a downside to this, I tend to see the negatives of anything I enjoy first and then find positives later. The upside is it’s certainly been one helluva way to improve my media literacy and spot the bs from a mile away.

A lot of people don’t believe when I say I got skeevy, uncomfortable, gross vibes from LO from chapter one, but I did. I don’t know what it was, but it set me off so bad that I couldn’t get past “her butt is shaped like a heart” and never read it again.

Now I’m willing to admit that this part of the fandom, like me, are the way we are because we were never the target demographic for LO.

Therefore, when it came out and got popular, we were the ones who were absolutely baffled and the ones who got dog piled and called every name under the sun by fans for a long time…that is, of course, until a lot of those fans grew up, realised what they were reading and turned on the series.

As I said, the critical side of any fandom is complicated and this is just my two cents.

I could do a much longer post about how fucking angry I am at Rachel personally for the fact she’s from my country, a country who constantly gets ignored, and given this amazing chance that so many of us wish we could have, yet chose to peddle her self insert x celebrity crush jailbait fantasy.

I could talk all day about how physically sickened I am that she’s taken so many aspects of trauma experiences by myself and millions of others and used it as ignorant, glamourised, fetishised shock-material.

I could go on at length about what a racist, misogynistic, homophobic piece of baggage she is and how she’s permanently done damage to another culture while completely misrepresenting ours…but I won’t.

I’ll just draw more mean art of Persephone’s giant lips and Hades accidentally letting the air out of them with his mosquito nose instead.

What’s Rachel going to do? Draw a goofy, technicolor caricature of me in her comic that’ll blend into the background, be only half finished and look like a recoloured Persephone in her otherwise pristine and totally professional looking masterpiece that’s definitely not losing readers? Oh wait—

#antiloreolympus #lo critical #lore olympus critical #lo criticism #anti lore olympus #lore olympus criticism #ooh girl #I had things to say

[booksdaydream]

The Lost and Found Epilogue

*SPOILERS OF THE GAME HOGWARTS LEGACY AHEAD*

Characters: Dark!Sebastian; use of MC; GN!MC; Ominis Gaunt; Ominis Gaunt x MC. Starring Professor Weasley. With special participation of Madam Blainey, Professor Sharp and Headmaster Black.

Summary: Based on this post by @avadakedavravravra​. MC’s and Ominis’ point of view of the Ending.

Warnings: little violence; mild abuse (talks of imprisonment, starvation); talks about death, impersonation, gaslighting; angst; fluff.

Word count: 4,8K+

A/N: I swear I try to do fluff, but it always comes out a bit of angsty. Sorry, sorry. I’ll try to do better. Couldn’t help but talk about politics because of Black and the Gaunts (those jerks). Once again the “Ominis” in bold is Sebastian in polyjuice.

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This chapter on AO3

The Lost and Found Masterlist

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Arriving to the Transfiguration classroom, it was not hard to find Professor Weasley in her office writing on some parchment. She had her head down, glasses hanging precariously on the bridge of her nose. MC didn’t have to say a word to bring her attention to them, although they entered without knocking. She looked mildly irritated, in a very motherly way, when she raised her eyes upon seeing them in her left peripheral vision. The disillusionment spell had already lifted. Her eyes widening in shock due to the horror of seeing Ominis’ condition was enough indication that she noticed something terrible had happened without them having to make a sound.

MC stood in front of the closed door, an arm around Ominis’ mid back bearing most of his weight – the walk there was not far but enough to burden him in his condition – and the other holding their wand tightly in their hand, ready to protect him if necessary. If they crossed paths with Sebastian. Unlikely, but terrifying. They had an exasperated expression, as if they were running out of time. Their eyebrows raised but touching, their lips pursed tight and their eyes pleading.

Ominis on the other hand remained calm. He would be the portrait of serenity if not for his heavy breathing – which he tried to conceal by standing tall. His face remained expressionless if not for the slight frown of attention, him observing quietly his surroundings and Professor Weasley’s silent reactions. Listening. He leaned heavily on MC, repressing self-inflicting curses for burdening them but also relieved he could rely on someone else. His body hurt everywhere, months exercising within four meters wide clearly taking a tool on him. His legs ached and the plant of his feet were likely bruised unused to the insides of his shoes.

“By Merlin! What happened to the two of you?” Professor Weasley stopped the screeching of her quill and stood up, her chair sliding aggressively against the stone floor. MC murmured a silencio to the door, just in case, to which the professor didn’t reprehend or question. But awaited an explanation.

“We don’t have much time, Professor.” Ominis started, his voice raspy likely due to all the crying he’d done earlier.

“You need to be looked at immediately, Mr. Gaunt. Your condition–”

“Must be deplorable, I imagine Professor.” He interrupted. MC saw Professor Weasley frown while stocked-still alarmed. “Forgive me for my rudeness, but I mean it when I say we don’t have much time. Sebastian Sallow has done this to me. Kept me in captivity and pretended to be me during months. Took classes as me, socialized as me, lived as me. Meanwhile, he starved me and taunted me. All so he could continue his search for a cure for his sister, Anne. A search that has driven him to kill his own uncle, Solomon, with an Unforgivable last spring.” Ominis explained in the most succinct and honest way he could.

MC observed Professor Weasley listening. She stood in between her table and her chair, barely moving from her position. Her face was painted in concern, severely frowned and heavy. There was disappointment and pity there as well. She waited in silence, frozen as a statue as Ominis continued.

“Today he planned to visit his sister and, together with MC, he was going to make them cure her. They arranged to meet at lunch time. Which should be around now if not soon. Hence why we don’t have time. If he suspects MC has been able to find me, he’ll flee and won’t face the consequences of his actions. It once pained me greatly to have resolved to submit him to the authorities, but he’s gone too far… Beyond we could have ever imagined.” Ominis’ voice faltered and Professor’s lips pressed tighter into a line so thin MC could barely see them. He stopped talking, untrusting of his own voice. MC tried to pick it up, continue their explanation but Professor Weasley simply nodded.

“I understand. You’ve been through a lot. Both of you.” She stared sternly at MC as well. “We’ll take it from here.” She fetched some parchment while MC felt Ominis’ relax, his weight becoming almost unbearably heavy. “Where were you meeting Mr. Sallow for this arrangement?”

“Hogwarts North Exit.”

She screeched in two pieces of parchment and, with her wand, turned the parchment into fireflies. Then she did it again with a third one.

“I have requested Professor Sharp’s and Headmaster Black’s assistance.” Professor Weasley announced and moved towards the door. She held it open for the two of them. “You two, go and rest on the hospital wing. Can you make it on your own? I have already let Madam Blainey know you’re coming.”

“We–”

“We can make it.” Ominis responded firmly, his weight becoming lighter again. His resolution returning. She nodded and gave them a small reassuring smile.

“You’ll likely be called into the Headmaster’s office later, after we have secured Mr. Sallow. We’ll talk about this in more detail again after... But first, hospital wing.” She insisted. MC agreed with a hum, but Ominis seemed a bit impatient.

“But Sebastian–”

“There’s been too much damage done, Mr. Gaunt. I won’t allow him to forgo the consequences. Rest assured.”

--

The walk to the hospital wing was a lengthy one. They were bound to cross paths with students and, fearing that one of them might be Sebastian, they remained under the cloak of disillusionment. But this time they went on their way at their own pace. His fate was out of their own hands. MC and Ominis did not speak. They listened to each other’s breath – Ominis’ still a bit more labored one – and felt each other’s touch, grounding themselves on the present and in reality.

Both had been living in weird dreams. Ominis in a nightmare where his bestfriend tortured him and MC in a delirious dream where the boy they liked reciprocated their feelings. Both twisted in their own way. Ominis’ hallucinating due to his solitude and MC’s boy being a fake. But they were going to be okay now. Whether Sebastian was caught by the Professors or not they had found each other and could distinguish fake from real. Together.

They crossed the large archway entrance of the hospital wing and undid their spell, quickly being greeted by Madam Blainey. The place was empty, thankfully, so no one asked questions nor looked suspiciously at Ominis’ appearance. Except Madam Blainey herself. Her expression was barely contained, a cordial smile but widened eyes. Her voice was a bit higher than normal, but she was indignant as always.

“Blimey! How could children be put in such bad shape! Here, here. This way, please.”

She guided both to the farthest beds on the right side of the room. The blue partition wall gave enough privacy from any other bed onto their right and the blue curtain on their left separated the two beds from the drawers at the end of the room. MC guided Ominis to seat on one of the beds and took the other per Madam Blainey’s insistence – they were in good shape, their wounds more of the psychological type. Ominis seemed uncomfortable. MC tried to prompt him to lay, but he gently pushed their hand away. That bed was too similar to the one he got familiar with these past few months.

Madam Blainey left and returned with three different tonics. First, she gave him a green potion that MC imagined to be the wiggenweld. He took it quietly and without complaint. Then she offered him a pinkish liquid that Ominis drank and winced at the taste. Then he smiled toothy, satisfied. It had a very sweet taste. Finally, she gave him the last one, a blue potion. Ominis held that one for a second before ingesting it. Frowning at the smell.

“C’mon.” Madam Blainey insisted. “This last one is for your bones, hair, and nails. You’ll be stronger in no time.” She promised. Ominis frowned and scrunched his nose – a very cute expression, MC thought – then downed the potion in two gulps. “Well done.” He controlled the urge to show off the contents of that potion to everyone in the hospital wing, exposing his tongue in disgust. Ugh. Tasted just as awful as it smelled. MC held in a giggle; Madam Blainey smiled in conspiration. “I’ll let you rest for now.”

MC and Ominis were finally left alone. They hoped down from the bed they had sat, knowing full well they didn’t need one and pulled the companion chair near Ominis’ bed, right in front of his sitting figure. They sat down, reaching for his hands resting on his lap. Their fingers interlaced with his and he smiled sweetly.

“That last potion seemed like a treat.” They provoked.

“A blast.” He smiled larger, then thought for a moment. “The second one was good. Sweet.”

“I suppose you don’t feel you need to hide your sweet tooth from me anymore.” MC pinched one of his fingers and he chuckled. An almost weightless sound. “I wonder what it’s for.”

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing they can give me will make me worse than I already am.” He stated candidly.

“Ominis…”

“I could hear it on your voice. On Professor Weasley’s too. But, clearly, Madam Blainey was the most appalled. I must look like a ghost. Sebastian didn’t really treat me like a person. Can you believe it? I cried because of the taste of a sandwich. Ham and cheese.” He mentioned, his voice still very leveled. Calm. With a hint of humor. He gave MC a small smile. “Apparently a celebrating meal.” MC heard him sternly, trying to control their anger.

“Celebrating?”

“I think he intended to end this today. After you cured Anne.” He said, his expression in thought. “Of course, I don’t actually know what end means.” MC couldn’t help a shiver crawl on their spine. Ominis felt them tremble and squeezed their hands, smiling softly. “MC, I think it’s fair we admit to ourselves we have absolutely no idea how far is too far for Sebastian anymore. If anything, we know he has abandoned us. He doesn’t believe in us anymore. Why should we believe in him? Should we believe that he is uncapable of killing me?” He asked quietly, a small frown accompanied by a small smile.

Ominis had clearly thought a lot about this. What could he had done if not think? Alone in that room, hoping. Trying to hold on to any last crumble of care Sebastian could have had in him. He had begged, pleaded. But Sebastian had already forsaken him. And very likely done the same to MC. So Ominis wouldn’t put it past him the ability to kill him. He’d rather not believe it, but Sebastian was not his friend with gentle almond eyes, hearty laugh, and annoying habit of stealing his secret sweet stash anymore. He was someone else new.

MC stood up and approached him, touching their foreheads together. Ominis waited, secretly anticipating a kiss, his eyes wide open. But MC didn’t close the bit left of proximity, their breaths mixing. Instead, they stayed there, eyes closed basking in the warmth of Ominis. Hoping that that little gesture brought as much comfort to him as it did to them. They gently rubbed his interlaced fingers with their thumbs, organizing their thoughts.

“I don’t know what we should believe. I want to believe Sebastian is still there somewhere, but… but I don’t think he is.” MC said, shaking their head, rubbing their foreheads together. Ominis smiled weakly at the sensation, imagining their foreheads were likely red from the rubbing. “I wouldn’t challenge his ability to k– kill one of us. I think the dark arts have corrupted him enough. Enough to act this extreme as well as far enough where we can no longer reach him.”

MC bit their lips in frustration, they moved away from Ominis and rolled their eyes in an exasperated sigh.

“I mean, I can only imagine what he’s done to you… what kind of pain you’ve been through, but the type of deception he’s done to me… the– the violation…” MC went quiet for a second, their eyes meeting the worried ones of Ominis’. He stared fixedly towards their direction listening attentively. MC opened their mouth to speak, and he flinched bracing for what they were going to ask. “Did he tell you anything about that?” Ominis closed his eyes slowly and pursed his lips tightly.

“Yes. He told me about your first kiss and confession, a thought I barely entertained. Then he brought me your tie to prove you were much closer than I was willing to believe.” Ominis sighed. “He spoke about you and him engaging in romantic affairs, but I tried not to rely on him knowing Sebastian was trying to taunt me–”

“Why?” MC interrupted and Ominis raised his eyebrows, responding candidly as if the answer was obvious.

“Because he wanted Anne’s location, and I was the only one that knew of it.”

“No.” MC said, with a weak chuckle. “Why would him seducing me provoke you into revealing Anne’s location?” They had an idea but needed a confirmation.

MC felt dishonest, pushing Ominis against a corner. But Ominis didn’t feel it was unfair. On the contrary he found it amusing. He smirked knowing exactly what they meant and squeezed their interlaced fingers. Perhaps this wasn’t the best place nor the best time. It certainly was not how he imagined his feelings would be professed. He once wished they would be known in a more opulent, dignified manner. It was actually the reason he took so long to say anything. Not his family – which was a concern, but a passing one – nor if his feelings were reciprocated. He was suspicious the stare accompanying him, stollen in secrecy sometimes, were MC’s. But it didn’t matter how he’d confess, he realized, as long as his feelings were known. And shared. Ominis chuckled lightly and raised one of their unified hands up to his lips, where he kissed their fingers.

“Sebastian realized our feelings were shared, MC. I care for you just as deeply I heard you care for me. Although hearing directly from you instead of Sebastian will be comforting.” He chuckled. MC smiled weakly. “And I did not want you to be involved on whatever he was planning, I begged him that. But clearly, he needed you more than just for Anne’s location.” Ominis frowned, subtly angry.

“He wasn’t lying. I couldn’t help but fall for you, Ominis…” MC went quiet for a moment, their eyes observing Ominis’ reaction.

His expression softened and he smiled weakly. Ominis waited for them to continue and, when they didn’t, he moved closer just enough to touch his nose to their forehead then his lips, placing a gentle chaste kiss on MC’s forehead. They sniffed in response and Omins hoped they weren’t crying.

“He wasn’t lying.” MC repeated, their voice trembling. “He not only instigated me into confessing my feelings but courted me. He flirted with me.” MC’s voice became heavy with the beginning of tears. “He’s done with me things I wanted to do with you. The furtive touches, the secretive whispers, the brushes past. Holding hands, exchanging kisses.” They stopped to muffle a hiccup. “We’d full-on snogged.” They admitted.

Ominis, alarmed, let go of one of their hands and reached out to their face, feeling tears on their cheek. He wiped them away, cupping their face softly. MC approached him again, forehead to forehead. Ominis simply held them, listening.

“Just because I thought it was you. Then sometimes he didn’t sound like you, obviously, because it wasn’t you.” They sniffed. “Because he wasn’t there. With me. At the Undercroft. Countless of times until late at night. Talking and talking. Just talking. Building that trust. And I realized something was off… I’m sorry, Ominis. I took so long.” MC started to apologize and Ominis cupped their face with both his hands, foreheads touching, he imagined he was looking into their eyes. MC’s hands rested on his knees.

“No. You were right on time.” He assured them, a small smile on his lips. “Perhaps if you were later, then I would have been in trouble. But you found me afterall. I knew you would. And that’s what kept me sane there.” He wiped some stray tears that insisted on falling from MC’s eyes. “Those talks also helped me. They gave me courage. They didn’t let me forget about our bond. About us. About my own feelings.”

“I like you, Ominis. So much. And I wish Sebastian hadn’t stolen my memory of a first kiss with you.” MC lamented still crying.

“I like you as well, MC. It doesn’t matter. We can simply rewrite it.” He suggested with a small smile. MC chuckled in response, finding it cute and nonsensical.

But Ominis meant it, because he leaned towards them, and their lips met. A very soft, feathery touch. A suggestion. MC left hand travelled to his face and cupped his cheek, leaning into the kiss. His lips were rough against theirs, chapped due to his condition. They kissed him gently, slowly melting into Ominis. However, he had waited for this for a long time. Ominis parted his lips slightly, his tongue gently tasting MC’s bottom lip. They opened their mouth, welcoming Ominis and deepening the kiss. MC’s hand travelled to Ominis’ hair and nestled within his blond locks, while Ominis pulled MC’s face closer to him. The kiss became urgent. A thirst both of them didn’t expect of each other but were enthralled. Until MC tasted blood. They broke the kiss immediately to notice Ominis’ chapped lips had started bleeding.

“Oh my.” He murmured, tasting the blood and licking his bottom lip slowly to confirm – a gesture that would be engraved in MC’s memory. He chuckled a bit more loudly than he had been doing so far, quite amused. “Not very smart of us.” MC giggled in response, giving him a small slap on his arm to which he chuckled childishly again.

“Excuse me.” Headmaster Black’s voice cleared his throat from behind the partition wall. Both students jumped on their spots, hoping he didn’t hear anything, blushing wildly. Ominis ears, nape, and cheeks a deep rouge while MC hid their own face redness with their hand. MC moved the companion chair out of the way and Ominis’ invited the Headmaster in. “Are both of you feeling better?” He asked uninterested looking them up and down, his eyes lingering on Ominis for a second longer.

“Yes, Headmaster.” Ominis’ responded. His posh tone returned to his voice; his posture impeccable as he felt Headmaster Black’s stare.

“Good. Then, come with me.” He motioned to both and Ominis stood from the bed. MC quickly approached him, touching his arm softly. He tilted his head towards them and smiled offering his arm, asking to be guided. He still did not have his wand back. MC took it wondering if he was going to be alright walking all the way to the office, but Ominis gave them no indication to want his body supported. Most likely wanting to keep appearances in front of Headmaster Black. They held in a sigh, but quickly kissed Ominis’ cheek without the adult seeing. A sort of encouragement. That only worked to make the boy red as a tomato again.

--

Headmaster Black did not make small talk on the way to his office, in fact he focused on talking with the passing students as he paraded the two. “I’ve received word from your parents, Mr. Fawley, your lacking attitude will leave you behind. Pick it up!” He said to a Hufflepuff boy that didn’t know where to hide his face. “How is Silvanus doing, Miss Selwyn?” He asked a small looking Slytherin that nodded a quickly “Good, thank you, Headmaster.” He continued on his merry way without giving either Ominis or MC his attention.

He only aimed his sight on his two student companions when they arrived at his office. Headmaster Black walked up the steps to his large sitting chair behind his table with piles of parchment and other magical artifacts upon it. He sat heavily on it with a grunt, dreading the conversation he was going to have but just so used to such. Ominis’ antics were already well-known to him, so conversing politics with the younger Gaunt wouldn’t be anything uncommon. Just slightly annoying. Afterall he was a child.

“I have heard from Professor Weasley the conundrum you had to face, Mr. Gaunt. It’s unfortunate a student with such a promising background as Mr. Sallow would act so rashly as this.” He said observing Ominis’ reaction with raised eyebrows, but an uninterested tone.

Ominis remained impassive, standing in front of Headmaster Black’s table quietly. His see-through distant sight puncturing a hole into his forehead. Headmaster Black shifted uncomfortably in his seat, clearly self-conscious of Ominis stare. He cleared his throat and looked around to gather some determination to continue.

“I am absolutely appalled such misgivings happened to a prestigious student such as yourself. But fear not. Mr. Sallow will face the consequences accordingly.” He said, raising his voice slightly upon noticing Ominis’ unimpressed look to his previous speech. Ominis smiled slightly, and Headmaster Black took that as a sign to continue. “Our families have strong ties, Mr. Gaunt, so rest assured you’ll be gracefully taken care of here in Hogwarts. Classes will be dismissed, assignments postponed, and the professors will accommodate you upon your healthy return.” He announced.

Headmaster Black smiled at Ominis waiting for a smile back but receive nothing. He broke into a half-smile, unsure if the exchange was being successful or not. MC looked carefully at Ominis to see him still quietly staring at the Headmaster, his small smile gone. They wondered if he was in pain, or tired. They squeezed his arm that they were still holding onto. Ominis smiled lightly. Headmaster Black’s smiled returned. MC realized Ominis humor was definitely not being affected by the Headmaster’s speech, but probably by his own thoughts.

“This whole ordeal is very much unprecedented and, I’m sure you’d understand, can be quite damaging for the reputation of our school. You see, we won’t be able to do much ourselves with Mr. Sallow considering he’s from a prestigious family, thus it would be in everyone’s interest that this case is handled discreetly. A way I’m sure Acacius will also be satisfied with.” Headmaster Black said in a levelled, very political tone.

MC couldn’t help turning their head sideways such as an owl, trying to understand but quite oblivious to the politics of purebloods. But Ominis understood it right away. There it was, he thought. A conflict between two purebloods was not as easily dealt with as one between halfs or muggleborns and purebloods, since in the later purebloods were simply always right. In Ominis and Sebastian’s case, this involved their families. And politics. Lots of politics.

Headmaster Black would try to solve this situation as quietly as possible, because he was not worried about the school’s reputation but his. It was no secret that he was not the most well-liked Headmaster in Hogwarts history. And the case of a kidnapping with torture and impersonation under his watchful eyes would only worsen his reputation.

Besides, these crimes were done to a Gaunt. Not exactly the most quiet and peaceful pureblood family. Much less going against a boy without a family. Ominis could’ve been their prodigal son, but he was still a Gaunt. Making a fool of him was still making a fool of them. The Gaunts would not sit quiet and let this whole ordeal go out unpunished. But they would also like to punish Ominis too. For being weak. For failing to fight back. And to keep up with their appearances, perhaps they would be willing to let it slide, if Headmaster Black had something better to offer. Which his many years of friendship and familial connections to Ominis’ father, Acacius, could aid him in having. Merlin, he even dared addressing him by his first name.

If not, perhaps his father would simply decide to forget the ordeal on his own out of amusement once he’d learnt it was Sebastian who caused Ominis this much pain. His found family. So precious. The one he substituted the Gaunts for. And yet he treated him just as bad. A lesson. A cruel joke. One the Gaunts would delight themselves with. Ominis bit his bottom lip, bothered by his own thoughts and MC noticed. They leaned towards him, their hair brushing against his face gently. Ominis woke from his daydreaming and tilted his head towards them, smiling gently.

Then there was a knock on the door, and it opened. Four adults came inside. Professor Weasley and Professor Sharp, accompanied by two other people that introduced themselves as Mrs. Stannis and Mr. Rondor, both aurors. Professor Weasley stared at MC and Ominis inquisitively and MC pulled Ominis away from the Headmaster’s table, giving space for the aurors to step in front to introduce themselves to him in a formal manner of handshakes. Professor Sharp stood in between the two students and the door. MC didn’t understand, wanting to get out of there hurriedly. The professor gave them an intense look and told them to wait with a wave of his hand.

In front of the door, behind the aurors, Ominis’ body appeared from a disillusionment spell. MC’s eyes fixed on the floating body. They couldn’t control their shock and must’ve squeezed Ominis’ arm hard because he wiped his face in their direction, tilting his line of sight to the floor. Ominis… rather, Sebastian was trying to fight the Full Body-Bind spell, he was thrashing his arms and legs but barely moved at all. His clothes were neat, constrained into the spell, except for his Slytherin tie that hanged in the air. He tried to voice anything, but only muffled sounds could be heard. The real Ominis lifted his free hand to touch theirs holding his arm, his fingers gently caressing theirs. He had his brows furrowed, attentive to the sounds. MC wanted to tell him it was Sebastian but had no idea if they should even make a sound in front of him.

There was something about seeing him detained that made everything that happened so much real. MC couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty upon seeing his desperation in moving around and trying to scream but being completely powerless under the spell. They continued observing quietly as the aurors started speaking.

“…We’ll be taking him immediately upon such grave accusations to be processed in the Ministry, but Azkaban is the more likely…”

They noticed Sebastian fought a little longer, his blind eyes frantically searching the room. Then he closed them for a second and went limp. Completely immobile. MC took a step in his direction, unsure if he was alright. Ominis held their hand on his firmly, keeping them in place. Sensing the tension in the air himself.

MC’s eyes flown back to him and then to Professor Sharp that remained between them and Sebastian, quietly observing MC. Their attention was caught by Professor Weasley’s footsteps, slowly approaching their side of the room. MC looked up at her, then at Sebastian’s face again. This time, they noticed he had his eyes open and wet. Tears streaming down his face that looked straight in their direction, almost as if he could see them. MC held in a gasp while she heard Professor Weasley stop next to Professor Sharp, directly in front of Ominis. She handed him his wand quietly. His actual wand. Ominis thanked her in a whisper and MC could see, in Sebastian’s eyes, recognition.

He continued looking down towards their direction, now knowing for sure Ominis and them were likely there. But now his wet eyes, still producing tears, had a rage so bright MC thought they were looking directly at the sun. They felt a shiver crawl up their spine, a cold breeze raising the hairs on the nape of their neck. But MC couldn't stay there admiring Sebastian’s hate, because Professor Weasley shooed the two students out of the office. Insisting they’d to return to the hospital wing. They left the room quietly, eyes staring at Sebastian while Professor Sharp continued working as a wall between them.

During their walk back in silence, knowing Sebastian had been caught - that there were aurors involved, that Professor Weasley would inform them of his future, that they had to focus on their own including how to tell Anne about all of this, that this was finally over - MC had the thought they would never forget what happened. And that Sebastian would most likely never forget too. They couldn’t take Sebastian’s angry eyes out of their mind, knowing deep in their heart that was not the last they’d seen of his anger. At least MC and Ominis had each other and their mutual feelings to rely on.

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*No reproduction of this text allowed without credit*

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