#i don’t know whether this counts as eye horror just because the eyes are the wrong color/glowing

[clottedscream]

redraw of a thing i made in 2018 :) Aromantic Hippie Elf Bee summoning fireflies

original from 4 years ago:

#dark fairycore #fairycore #fantasy #night sky aesthetic #tw insects #lightning bug #firefly #digital art #i don’t know whether this counts as eye horror just because the eyes are the wrong color/glowing #dairydraws #also yeah that’s the same bee as the aromantic hippie elf. they have human ears here because it’s an au #and glowing night sky hair also because it’s an au. #i originally really wanted bee to be a changeling of some kind so they’re be able to make minor cosmetic changes to their appearance #like making their hair glow and stuff #but that didn’t pan out #so this is from an au where they are a changeling and not just an elf #this is also technically from an au where they’re not aromantic because the original was drawn before i decided that about their character #in my heart of hearts they’ve always been aromantic. even though they certainly weren’t in my old art of them sigh and also cringe #look at that pendant though #look at the geode vein running through it. i drew that freehand without a reference of what geodes look like #very proud of the little details in this #i think 17 year old me would be stoked to see this #dnd oc #dnd druid

[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x you #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles x y/n #harry styles oneshot #anxious!reader #my writing

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

A TRAGEDY THAT'S BUILT ON DESTINY!

I WOULD CHANGE MOST EVERY SINGLE THING. I WOULD LET YOU KISS ME, KILL ME!

synopsis// multiple different universes, but one thing remains the same: geto loves you in each and every one of them.

pairing// suguru geto x gn!reader

word count// 5.8k

contents// different universes, angst, satisfying angst?, hurt/no comfort but also hurt/comfort at the same time, ooc geto?, character death tehe

notes// inspired by everything everywhere all at once and the song kiss me kill me by mest :3 i wrote this SOOOO long ago but u have no idea how much i adore this oneshot. like i think it might be my fav oneshot ive ever written. it is everything to me!! and i did not do the idea justice but u get the point!!

December 24th 

You assume the fight is over because neither you nor Shoko have gotten any more wounded victims. The two of you glance at each other briefly but don’t bother saying anything. What could be said about a full-blown borderline war schemed by your high school best friend and lover? Nothing could possibly be said, so nothing is. The two of you stand there waiting for anything to happen, whether that’s getting called back to Jujutsu High or being brought another victim, and eventually something does happen, and Shoko gets a call. You can’t read her expression for the whole 20 seconds she’s on the phone before she passes it to you. You furrow your eyebrows in question.

“It’s Gojo,” she says blankly before attempting to hand you the phone again.

You hesitate to answer. “Hello?”

“You should get down here,” he says blankly over the phone.

“What? Why? Is everything okay?”

“Um, yeah, just—you know those back alleys by the school?”

“Uh huh?”

“Meet me there.”

“Gojo, you’re kinda scaring me-“

“Y/N, just come; you’ll thank me—I hope.”

You frown and begrudgingly agree, “Okay, fine, yeah, whatever, I'm on my way.”

“Make it quick, alright? I'm serious,” he adds quickly before hanging up.

As you give Shoko her phone back, you roll your eyes at the fact that he didn't even give you a chance to say okay before hanging up.

“What was that about?” she wonders, slipping her phone back into her pocket.

You sigh. “No idea, but he wants me to go meet up with him for some reason.”

Shoko hums curiously. “You should get going then; must be urgent.”

You nod, “Yeah.”

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

It doesn't take you long to get to the school given how fast you were walking since Gojo told you to hurry it up, the tense anticipation aiding in your speed. It does, however, take you a few moments to find Gojo, but once you do, you find that he's not looking at you, but he’s speaking, and it's not to you either; it's to something—or rather someone—he's blocking with his body.

“Gojo?” you ask once you finally reach him.

Gojo turns to face you, a sorrowful smile on his face, before stepping out of the way to reveal who he was speaking to and the whole reason why he called you here in the first place.

When you see Getou on the ground, your heart sinks into your stomach, and your blood runs cold. You look back at Gojo, who merely shrugs.

“You should say your goodbyes; I already did,” Gojo whispers before leaving you and Getou alone.

Getou lets out a hushed laugh. “That’s a little melodramatic of him, don’t you think?”

The hammering of your heart roaring in your ears makes it difficult to hear what he says. You stand there frozen in what you can only describe as horror as you stare down at Getou, who's missing an arm and is only growing more pale by the second from blood loss.

“Do you plan on ignoring me?” he asks softly, as though he’d understand if that really was your plan.

You blink a few times and shake your head, your tears blurring your vision. “I dont-“ 

Getou hums appreciatively and smiles up at you, which makes you completely break down, a sob racking through your body so violently that the only thing you can do is collapse to your knees. Getou winces as he tries to sit up straighter, as if he’s going to catch you or crawl over to you. You sniffle, your sobbing uncontrollable, as you crawl to him, and once there, you let your head fall upon his blood-stained chest. Getou immediately places his only remaining hand on the back of your head, as if holding it to his chest, and gently pats your head.

“Are you an idiot?” you snap.

“Might be.” 

You sob even harder into his chest. “Why would you do this?”

Your question makes his heart race. “I wanted something better for Jujutsu society.”

You shake your head at him disapprovingly. “Why’d you have to go about it this way?”

“I don’t know Y/N," he sighs. "Does it make a difference?”

You scoff, raising your head to glare at him. “Of course it does, you idiot! You left! and had a hit placed on you! Why couldn’t you have just stayed?” You sob, letting your head fall back onto his chest. “Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as you wanted this? Why couldn’t... Why couldn’t you have wanted me as much as I wanted you?”

“Y/N,” he coos regretfully, as if he doesn’t know what to say, which he doesn’t. He did want you, and he’d even go as far as saying he wanted a better jujutsu society for you so you wouldn’t have to live your days slaving away for the non-sorcerers. “Y/N, look at me.”

You shake your head and screw your eyes shut, not wanting to look at him. You don’t want to see your first and only love withering away right in front of you.

“Y/N, please look at me.”

“I-I can't."

“Y/N, open your eyes.”

The demandingness dripping from his voice has your head shooting up to look at him and your eyes opening wide, but as you open them, you’re not met with an actively dying Getou; you're met with a sunny and flower-filled meadow? You move to wipe your tears, but your face is dry. You blink a few times, trying to take in your new surroundings, given that a moment ago you were just in a dark alley and now you're sitting on a blanket in a field under a glowing sun.

“Y/N?” Someone speaks from beside you.

Your attention is drawn to the person. “Getou?” 

He smiles at you.

“Getou, where are we?” you ask, now starting to slightly panic.

He looks at you in confusion. “We’re on our date?”

Your chest heaves up and down, and you're more confused than ever. “Huh? But- We-“ 

“We what?” he asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We were just behind Jujutsu High; you were missing your arm, and-"

Getou scoots in closer to you and cradles your face in his hands. The feeling of a warm, full-of-life Getou touching you brings tears to your eyes all over again.

“Woah, woah, love, calm down. What are you talking about? Jujutsu High? Me missing an arm?”

“You don’t remember?” You croak out, distraught, and slightly convinced that you’re going crazy.

“Remember what, love?” he asks softly.

You stare at him in disbelief. “The fight—you wanted a better jujutsu society, and you tried? You lost your arm! You were dying; I saw you! I was there with you! You were covered in blood and-“ 

Getou gently wipes your tears away. “Love, that didn’t happen. I’m here, yeah? and I have both my arms, and there was no fight for Jujutsu society? Whatever that means..."

You blink at him, dumbfounded. “What?” 

“It was probably just a bad dream, Y/N.” He smiles at you reassuringly.

“You don’t know about jujutsu society?”

“Am I supposed to?”

You stare at him in awe. What’s happening? How could he not know about jujutsu society when it was the very thing he was fighting for? But then again, how could he not be missing an arm? And how could the two of you not be in a dark alleyway right now? How could any of this be happening? Maybe he’s right; maybe it really was a bad dream. A very vivid, detailed, lucid, and lifelike bad dream.

“I guess not,” you respond with a frown.

Getou wipes away your last few tears and smiles at you. “You’re okay; I’m okay. We’re okay. It was just a bad dream, love.”

“Yeah,” you say haltingly, "yeah, I guess it was..."

“Are you okay now?”

You nod as you take one of his hands off your face and into your own. “Yeah, I think so... Um, where are we, Getou?”

“On our weekly date?” He answers curiously as he removes his other hand from your face.

You look around at your surroundings curiously. “In the middle of a forest?”

“This is your favorite place, Y/N,” he says, quizically.

As you take another glance around, you hum, not necessarily agreeing or disagreeing. “I can see why; it’s beautiful here.”

He raises his free hand and grips your jaw, forcing you to look at him. “Y/N, are you okay? How come you don't remember?”

You look into his eyes, and something doesn't feel right—as if you're not meant to be here—but you digress and shrug anyway. “I don't know...”

He frowns briefly before leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the lips, and you practically melt, having not felt his lips on yours for far too long.

“That's alright. We can still make the most of the rest of our day, right?”

You nod, and he smiles at your response, letting go of your face and hand to open his arms to you, inviting you into his embrace. You return the smile before laying yourself in his arms, trying to ignore the rising feeling that something is wrong, but you can't because the minute your head touches his chest, you're thrown into a moment, a memory, a dream? where you're back in the alley with your head on a bleeding-out Getou, and it's just for a split second, a flash in time, but it's enough to make you go stiff and your breath hitch.

Getou rubs his hand down your back soothingly. “Hey, what's wrong?”

You swallow harshly and try to concentrate on the green scenery in front of you rather than whatever you keep seeing. “Nothing, I'm fine. It's fine.”

Getou places his head on top of yours. “Are you sure?”

You nod. “I am.”

He hums disapprovingly but doesn't press the issue any further; instead, he just runs his hand up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you down, which works as you begin to relax into his embrace and regain control of your breathing.

“What do we usually do here?” you ask, breaking the silence.

He shrugs. “Usually just talk about our days, our future plans, and stuff like that.”

You hum. “Is it nice?”

“Very nice; I like spending our days together.”

“I do too,” you correct yourself, “or I'm sure I did too.”

Getou doesn't say anything; instead, he lays himself down and, since he's holding you, takes you with him. You sigh contentedly and let your eyes flutter close, the sun and his hold keeping you warm. Suddenly, even with your eyes closed, you can tell it's getting brighter outside, and you groan. You’re about to ask what's up with the sun when a shooting pain in your head causes you to wince. Your heartbeat rings in your ears, and you can feel your hands grow clammy.

You feel unstable, as if you're no longer on the ground being held, as if you're floating through time and space, and the uncertainty forces your eyes open, but you're not met with anything—no, that's not right, you're met with everything, glimpses of time that you can barely make out. One moment you see Getou at an alter, and then you see you and Getou nodding to each other in determination, and the next glimpse is of you, Getou, Gojo, and Shoko laughing about something before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you hiss in pain, and all too suddenly, you're back on stable ground, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone.

You still hesitate to open your eyes, unsure of what you'll see, but when you can just barely make out that you're not where you were before, your eyes shoot open. You're now standing in the doorway of what appears to be the room of two teen girls, and Getou is sitting at a vanity staring at you; his hair and make-up are done, and he's frowning. Despite your confusion about where you are, you can't help but burst out into a fit of laughter.

He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh haha, yeah, keep laughing.”

You slap your hand over your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. “What happened?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and looks away, mumbling, “Our daughters thought I would make a very good model, apparently.”

You go to laugh again, but it hits you, and you look at him like he's crazy. “Sorry, daughters?”

He returns the look. “Yes? Our kids?”

You look away, muttering to yourself, “We have kids...”

You didn't mean for him to hear it, but he does anyway and instantly stands up and makes his way toward you. He grabs your shoulders, drawing your attention to him, and when you look at him, he's staring back at you in concern.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You want to take him seriously, but truthfully, you can't when he’s wearing bright pink lipstick and bright pink eyeshadow. He does look cute, though. You try to bite back a smile.

“I'm sorry, but I can't take you seriously when you look like that.”

Getou sighs. “I know I look amazing. Can you try to ignore my beauty for like five seconds and tell me why you’re acting like you don't remember our kids?”

You frown. What are you supposed to tell him? That you're apparently having nightmares upon nightmares about different lives with him? And now you're not sure what's real and what's not? You can't say that, so instead you shrug and merely mutter, “You do look amazing like that, though.”

His head drops to the side at the same moment that his smile fades. “Y/N.”

“I don't know.”

“You don't know?”

“Some really weird shit is going on, Getou,” you breathe out heavily.

He doesn’t say anything, instead grabbing your hand and leading you to one of your apparent kids' beds, where he sits you down.

“What’s going on?”

“I don't know, and you wouldn't know either so,” you explain vaguely in frustration.

He gives your hand a squeeze. “Maybe I would?”

You shake your head. “I don’t wanna waste time on that; I don't know how long I have here.”

“What?” he asks blankly. “What do you mean you ‘don't know how long you have here’?”

“Getou,” you whine, not wanting to think or talk about it because you wouldn't even know where to start; all you want is to learn about this new nightmare and what it holds.

He relents. “Okay, I won't ask.”

You smile at him and let a moment of silence pass before asking, “What are they like?”

“Huh?”

“Our kids—daughters.”

Getou hums. “They’re great; we raised them well.”

“They are especially great at making you a model, huh?” you snicker. 

He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Oh whatever, you're just jealous they never make you model.”

You shrug. “What are their names?”

“Well, we were gonna keep the names they had when we adopted them, but they ended up not having any names at all, so we settled on Nanako and Mimiko.”

You stare at him in awe. “Did you pick the names out?”

“We both did,” he recalls fondly and vividly, as if it were just yesterday that the two of you were picking out names.

“And we are...?”

He kisses your cheek before answering, “Married—we’re married.”

You hum and raise your left hand, your gaze fixed on your ring finger. “I don't see a ring?”

He hums curiously. “You were wearing it this morning? Maybe you dropped it somewhere?”

You nod. “Yeah.. Maybe..”

Getou doesn’t say anything; he doesn’t know what to say. What could he? His partner of multiple years suddenly has some form of amnesia and can't remember that they have kids, let alone that they’re married to him. You turn to face Getou. He looks like Getou—like the Getou you know, who apparently was merely a nightmare. Besides all the makeup and stuff, he looks like Getou. He says he’s Getou, but something just feels off.

“Are you real?”

He nods. “Very real.”

You look around the room, taking in the messy vanities, the messy beds, and the drawers stuffed with clothes. “Are our kids real?”

“Extremely real.”

You study his face for any hint of uncertainty, and when you find none, you ask, “Am I real?”

He narrows his eyes at you and hums curiously. letting go of your hand only to bring both hands up to your face and start smooshing your face together, pushing and pulling at the flesh on your cheeks.

“Getou,” you mumble.

He hums approvingly and nods, letting his hands fall back to his sides. “Yep, you’re real.”

You smile at his idiotic antics but appreciate them nonetheless. And although you can touch him and feel him, and he is real, as are you and your kids, it still doesn't seem real. And then, all too suddenly, your head starts throbbing again.

“Fuck no, not again,“ you panic.

“Y/N? whats wrong-“

You can't hear what he’s saying anymore; it's like you've gone underwater and he's speaking to you from the surface. Another shooting pain in your head has your eyes screwing shut, and you know you're fucked when all you can hear is your heartbeat ringing in your ears and feel your hands grow clammy all over again. You’re back to feeling unstable, drifting between time and space once more, and just like last time, the uncertainty of the feeling forces your eyes open, and you're faced with everything again—more glimpses in time that you can barely make out.

One moment you think you see yourself back at the beginning on Getou’s cold chest, and then you see yourself and Getou covered in blood, and you're not sure if it's yours or someone else's, and the next glimpse you see is of Getou on your cold chest, like your roles had been reversed, before you’re hit with another shooting pain in your head. Screwing your eyes shut, you wince in pain, and finally you're back on solid ground again, no longer floating, and the brightness you could see through closed eyes a moment ago is gone. This time you don't hesitate to open your eyes, and you find yourself in a cemetery.

You look around curiously, trying to assess your surroundings while simultaneously trying to recover from whatever just happened. But you're starting to realize something now. All of this is real. You laying on Getou’s chest was real; having a picnic with a perfectly fine Getou in a world where curses apparently don't exist was real; having kids and marrying Getou was real; and all of those little bits of time in between each new life were real. All of it was real—is real; all of it happened—is happening; it just didn't happen to you specifically. Not this version of you, at least. You’ve realized that you’re experiencing different universes and living alternate lives of your own. You didn’t think alternate universes existed, but it's not too hard to accept when the world you live in—the world you belong to—is riddled with curses and sorcerers. You are not above believing in alternate dimensions.

Finally over your sudden epiphany, you're able to realize that you weren't immediately met with Getou like you had been the past two times you got transported into another dimension. As you put the pieces together, a grave feeling washes over you—no Getou, and you’re in a cemetery. You swallow harshly.

No, no, no.

You start running around the cemetery, inspecting each and every headstone, and praying to the universe(s) that you aren't about to find one that reads his name.

No, no, no.

You keep running, the cemetery seemingly interminable, until you run up behind someone who looks suspiciously a lot like Getou, and when you hear him murmur under his breath, you sigh heavily in relief that it is him, but why is he here? You tilt your head and try to look around him to read the gravestone.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim, stunned.

Getou spins around faster than you can even blink, and he almost chokes on his spit. “Y/N?” His chest heaves up and down as he shifts his gaze between you and the gravestone. “But-but-how-you’re-“

“Dead apparently,” you say, finishing his sentence as you stare at the gravestone that reads, "HERE LIES L/N Y/N."

He stares at you, completely bewildered, and you can see him trembling. “How—how are you here?”

Will something bad happen if you tell him this isn't your universe and there are actually multiple universes out there? Who knows, but you’re about to find out.

“I'm not, well, I'm not supposed to be.”

He shakes his head and closes his eyes. “I'm just hallucinating; you’re not real.”

His reply breaks your heart. “I am real.”

“You’re not.”

You step forward, taking his hand in yours. “I am.”

He finally opens his eyes back up, and he stares at you through tears, completely amazed that you're here, that you're actually touching him, and that you're actually alive and real.

“I don't—I dont understand—you're dead!” He stammers, yanking his hand from yours, and as he breaks out into full-on sobs at this point, he’s reminding you an awful lot of yourself in your own world.

You nod slowly. “In this universe, it seems so... how?”

“What?” he stutters. “This universe?”

You ignore his question. “How did I die, Getou?”

He shakes his head sternly. “No, I'm not saying anything until you explain what you meant. What if you’re a curse? What if I cursed you, holy fuck? Fuck!”

“Okay, curses still exist in this universe; good to know,” you acknowledge with a nod.

Getou snaps, “What are you talking about!?”

You flinch, which only makes him sob harder.

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap—I'm just so fucking confused; you're supposed to be dead,” he bawls as he falls to his knees.

You take another step closer and kneel down, drawing him into your embrace and letting him sob into your chest for as long as he needs, ignoring the horrible feeling of deja vu crawling all over you like worms.

“Shh, you're okay,” you whisper, soothingly brushing your fingers through his hair.

He finally starts to calm down after a few more minutes of whispering sweet nothings to him, and once he’s no longer sobbing, he pulls away.

“Answer my question, and I'll answer yours,” he says through sniffles.

You nod. 

“What were you talking about, universes? How are you here, Y/N? You’re dead—or you’re supposed to be...”

“Do you believe in alternate or multiple universes?”

He shrugs and wipes away any remaining tears. “I don't know; I never really thought about it.”

You hum and nod. “Right, so, uh, they exist! There are a lot of universes out there, actually." You let out an uneasy laugh.

He stares at you curiously.

“Obviously, I'm not from this universe.”

He continues staring at you.

“Oh, cmon, curses exist, but you draw the line at alternate dimensions?”

Getou frowns and says, “I guess you’re right... So you’re from a ‘different dimension’?”

You point a finger at him, narrowing your eyes. “Don't air-quote me like you don't believe me; how else would I be here right now if I were supposedly dead?”

“I don't know; that's what I'm trying to figure out!” he exclaims, gesticulating wildly.

“Can you just humor me and hear me out?”

He takes a deep breath before ultimately agreeing, “Okay, fine.”

You clasp your hands together. “Okay, um, in my universe, you’re dead.”

“What?!”

You shake your hands and your head. “Ok, no wait! You’re not dead yet, but, uh, you were like on the verge of death when I got put into another universe.”

He looks at you in disbelief. “And you just left me?!”

“It wasn't on purpose! Why would I want to leave you when you’re dying? I don't know how I ended up here! or in the last two other universes!”

He stops you and asks, "Okay, okay, wait—how am I dying?”

You look away awkwardly. “You wanted to change jujutsu society in… a not-so-friendly way... And, um, you were willing to die for your cause.”

“I'm dying the same way you did?”

You return your attention to him. “What?”

Getou nods. “Yeah.”

You shake your head. “What do you mean you're dying the same way I did?”

“In this universe, you’re the one who wanted to change jujutsu society in a... not-so-friendly way,” he explains sheepishly.

“Holy shit,” you mutter to yourself.

He nods again. “So, in yours, our roles are reversed.”

“And I'm dead already? I didn't even last as long as you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess," he shrugs, "but it worked; there hasn't been a curse, at least not a special-grade one, since you died." His eyes gleam as he looks up at you. “Did I succeed?”

You bite the inside of your cheek anxiously and shake your head.

“I'm dying for nothing, then?”

You look away and mumble, “My Getou is okay with it; he knew he might fail—he knew Gojo was the only one who could probably change anything—but he still wanted to try.”

“Okay, well, this—” he gestures to himself, “Getou isn't okay with it.”

You roll your eyes. “Yes, well, you’re also still alive, so it doesn't really affect you that much, now does it?”

“Still! You just told me one version of myself is dead—or dying—and I'm supposed to be chill with that?”

You stare at him blankly. “Your version of me is dead.”

Getou grows quiet, and you can almost physically see how his demeanor wilts away.

“Sorry.”

“It's fine,” he says, shaking his head. “You said you were in two other universes before this one, right?”

You nod. 

“What were they like?”

You smile as you think back on the previous universes: “We were both alive and happy, and we were together in them.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah... and curses didn't exist either.”

“Huh,” he says ambivalently, like he's not sure whether to be happy for his other selves or be bitter that that isn't him. “Tell me more?”

“In the first one, we were actually on a date in some forest that I apparently loved.”

He stares at you wide-eyed, completely engrossed in your retellings.

“In the second one, we were married.”

A smile tugs at his lips. “Really?”

You nod. “We even adopted two daughters.”

“What were they like?” he wonders, enamored by some alternate universe of you two.

“I'm not sure; I didn't get to meet them,” you confess meekly. “But I know their names were Nanako and Mimiko, and they loved doing your hair and makeup. You adored them, and I'm sure I adored them too.”

He nods wistfully. “In your universe, were... were we together?”

“For a bit.” You look away sadly. “We broke up when you, uh, went off and wanted to-“

“Change jujutsu society,” he chimes in.

“Yeah... How'd you-“

“Same thing here, just roles reversed, remember?” He laughs sadly.

You nod. “Did you still love me? even after I'd gone off and did what I did?”

“I did. I do,” he quickly corrects himself. “Did you?”

“I still do.”

The two of you sit looking away from each other in glum silence. It's hard to stay upbeat about your happy alternate selves when your actual selves are currently dying or dead.

“Kinda feels like we got the short end of the stick, don't you think?” Getou mumbles softly.

“Huh?”

“Well, I mean, there are no curses in those universes, and we’re both alive and happy, but in ours we’re dead?” he elaborates.  

You nod reluctantly. “Well yeah, but I don't know; I guess it's kinda nice to know that it worked out in at least one universe.”

“Don't you wish it worked out in ours?”

“Of course I do, Getou; what kind of question is that?" you scoff. "You think I want to go back to my universe just to watch you die?”

“Well,” Getou pauses, turning to face you, “what if you don't go back?”

Your gaze zeroes in on his. “What?”

“What if you stay?…”

You abruptly stand up and chuckle uncomfortably. “Getou-“ your sentence is cut short by an echo of your name that only you seem to hear because you're the only one gazing in the general direction it seemed like it came from.

Getou joins you on your feet and follows your stare, but when he realizes you aren't staring at anything, he returns his sight to you.

“Think about it.”

His voice snaps you out of your trance, and you look back at him with a small frown.

“I'm practically dead in your universe, and you're dead in mine, but we’re together right now!" he says, taking your hand in his. "Maybe the universe put you into mine for a reason— so we don't have to go back to one where we’re not together…”

You struggle to swallow; your mouth suddenly goes dry as Getou stares at you in full, unadulterated hope, and you can't bring yourself to say anything to crush that.

“Y/N, wouldn't that be nice?”

You nod and murmur, “It would.”

“Then?” he asks expectantly.

Someone calling out your name echoes in your head again, and you quickly look down the street to now see a small, bright light in the distance, and you know your time here is soon coming to an end.

“I... I can't stay, Getou.”

His voice cracks as he panickedly asks, “Why?”

"Because,” you explain with a shake of your head, “I'm not your Y/N, and you're not my Getou.”

“I could be,” he says confidently, or he would have if it weren't for the way his voice trembled.

Your vision goes blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes as you shake your head.

“We could try!”

You sniffle and reiterate, “I can't stay.”

“Please,” he begs through his sobs. “Please, we can make it work.”

You look away from him, trying to fight back your tears, but it's futile; you’re a complete mess, just like he is now. “No.”

His hands shake as he grips your face and forces you to look at him. “Y/N, please, I'm begging you.”

“I cant.”

“Don't leave me again.”

The same voice calling out your name echoes in your head again, this time louder, and the bright light is getting bigger and closer.

“I don't want to go back to a universe where you’re just gonna leave me either, but,” you sob, weakly clinging onto the wrists of his hands that are still on your face.

“So stay.”

You shake your head and take his hands off your face. “I won't.”

Getou’s head goes limp and drops as sobs shake his entire body, and you can't help but think that's exactly how you'll look when you return to your universe and have to deal with the death of your Getou.

“Please,” he pleads.

You're both in tears as you lift his head up by his chin to look at you. The voice calling your name echoes even louder, and the bright light is getting closer by the second.

“You’re not my Getou, and I'm not your Y/N.”

He nods reluctantly. “I know, but...“

The bright light is only a few feet away at this point, and the voice echoing in your head is so loud that it's giving you a migraine—you know this is your last few minutes, if that, in this universe, so you lean in and take Getou’s lips into yours—a goodbye kiss for a Getou who you'll never see again, a goodbye kiss for a Getou who desperately needs one when he never got one from his y/n. You pull away and cradle his cheek gently.

“I have to go say goodbye to my Getou now; I think he’s waiting for me.”

He nods. “If he’s anything like me, he’ll want a goodbye kiss too.”

A faint smile tugs at your lips. “I know.”

Getou doesn't get the chance to respond when you're suddenly gone—completely vanished right before his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are back again, feeling unstable as you float through time and space, and again, the uncertainity of the feeling forces your eyes open, but this time you're met with only one thing—the image of you on your Getou’s chest. With every passing second, it grows closer, as does his voice calling out for you, and before you know it, you're back in your body, looking up at him with a gasp.

“Y/N?” he asks weakly.

You're still in tears from the previous universe as you now pull him into your embrace.

He winces, and you quickly let go of him. “Sorry.”

He smiles at you with blood in his mouth and teeth. “It's okay.”

You have to force yourself to look away to try and choke back a sob, but Getou notices immediately and slowly lifts up his remaining hand to cradle your cheek.

“It’s okay, Y/N.”

You nod. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay.”

“I know,” you croak out.

“Kiss me?” He asks out of breath, knowing he doesn't have much longer.

You don't hesitate to lean in and kiss him, ignoring how it tastes like blood and tears as well as how cold his lips feel. You ignore it because he's kissing you back. He’s kissing you with all the power his frail body can muster, and it makes up for all the years, months, weeks, days, minutes, and seconds that your lips haven’t touched. But just as quickly as he kisses you, he stops, but it's gradual; he gradually stops kissing, moving, and breathing. It doesn't take long for it to get to that point, and even when he's not kissing back, you still kiss him with some fairy-tale hope that it will bring him back, that your kiss will somehow save him, like he's Snow White and you're Prince Charming. But it doesn't.

It doesnt.

You pull away to look at Getou, whose eyes are glazed over but not closed. You sob as you reach up to close his eyes, only to let your head fall against his chest. He’s so cold. Too cold. That's why you have to stay there on top of him to keep him warm. You'll stay there all night if you have to. But you don't even get the chance to stay there for longer than a few minutes when someone suddenly pulls you off of him, and you look over your shoulder to see Gojo, who's crying as well.

“He’s gone, Y/N.”

"I know," you sniffle, “I know.”

Gojo helps you up to your feet, his hand on your waist to keep you steady as he leads you away from Getou’s body. The further you get from it, the harder you cry.

But it's okay. It’ll be okay because, even though you lost Getou in this universe, you’ll eventually be able to come to peace with it knowing that in a hundred, a thousand, and even a million other universes, you and Getou are living happily ever after.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

#jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk geto #jjk getou #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader #jujutsu kaisen geto #jujutsu kaisen getou #geto suguru #getou suguru #geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #getou suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #getou suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #getou suguru fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #geto x reader #getou x reader #geto fluff #getou fluff #suguru geto #jjk suguru #jjk suguru geto #jujutsu kaisen suguru #bimbo's one shots

[imtryingbuck]

Eighteen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.

Word count: 5,786

Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names. eating humans (doesn’t happen obviously and it’s only said as a joke) mentions of cheating, mentions of past suicide attempt

A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

It had been three years since she was last at home, three years at private school and it was amazing for her. 

She made friends with two of the girls there Natasha and Wanda, they had introduced themselves to her first and Wanda shyly had asked if Y/n would like to be their friend, she hesitated at first but eventually said yes which brought a huge smile to Wanda’s face and a shy smile to Nat’s.

They accepted her with open arms and Nat even enjoyed playing in the mud and climbing trees with Y/n. When that fateful day came where they saw her scars she panicked and knew that they wouldn’t want to be her friends anymore but instead of judgemental or looks of horror Wanda burst out crying and pulled her in to a bone crushing hug whilst Nat stood there cursing in Russian. For the first time since James she opened up to what had happened to her.

Not even Steve knew the whole story, especially not Sam. Sam had heard things but chose not to listen; he chose to wait until she had said something herself.

Once she had finished telling them everything she was comforting the two red heads reminding them that she was okay now.

It had felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders and for the first time she felt like she could breathe.

If you saw one of the girls the other two was close behind.

Throughout the three years that had passed she had heard about Bucky, Sam and Steve from her parents. The boys had showed up a few days after she had left so James could apologise and when they found out she had gone James started to cry, Steve and Sam too. When she heard about that she wanted to go back home to make up with her boys fighting with herself on whether or not she should but ultimately she decided that she wasn’t going anywhere. James had made it perfectly clear that he wasn’t her friend and that he never wanted to be in the first place.

It was a hard decision for her to make but luckily she had Nat and Wanda by her side supporting her.

Now that school was over she was heading back home, she had decided she didn’t want to go to college and after a bit of back and forth with her parents - especially her mom - they agreed to let her do what she wanted to do.

“We’ll see each other in a month Wands don’t cry” she says hugging Wanda who was in fact balling her eyes out.

“A month is so long away an-and what will I do if I’ve forgotten your face or-or your voice?” Ever so dramatically Wanda cried.

“Really? Really Wands it’s four weeks you’re not going to forget anything about me and if you do I’ll have to punch you in the arm”

“Please don’t, but you’re right. I’ll just have to go on living without you my friend, go go leave and don’t look back, I don’t think my heart could take it” Wanda says bringing one hand across her face and the other clutching her chest.

Y/n looks at Nat who stands there with one eyebrow raised “this…this is our best friend”

“I know. Wand why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?”

“Hey I’m not dramatic I’m traumatised!”

Nat and Y/n burst out laughing, shaking their heads at the red head. “Traumatised? Wanda I love you but you my friend are so dramatic”

“I’m trying to be…emotional and romantic well not romantic because even though I love you Y/n I have to admit baby girl you’re not my type”

“Don’t say that-“ Nat says quickly but gets cut off.

“I-I’m not y-your type? H-how dare you!”

“Great just great, look everyone these two weirdo’s are my best friends!” Nat shouts pointing at her friends.

“I have to be honest with myself Y/n/n okay, I can’t keep lying to you it-it’s not fair, I’m sorry” Wanda says in a wobbly voice.

“No, no I understand. I’m just not good enough for you and that’s the truth! Don’t keep lying to yourself Wanda!”

“Guys please stop…” Nat butts in.

“Great you’ve upset our daughter!” Wanda shouts throwing her hands in the air.

“Me? Me? Well guess Wanda she might not even be yours! That’s right I cheated on you with your father!”

“W-what? H-how could you? I loved you”

“But you don’t love me anymore now the truth can be out there!”

“To be fair Wanda could possibly be my dad because we both have red hair…”

“She gets her attitude from you Y/n, how could you do this to us?”

“Us? You’re the one that literally just said I wasn’t your type!”

“Guys please, I don’t want to come from a broken home”

“Oh Natty come here sweetie me and your maybe father was just playing” Y/n says opening her arms for Nat to shuffle into. Wanda then wraps her arms around the pair.

“Well ladies that was a very moving performance if I do say so myself but it’s time for you to break it up and leave” Mr Walters says from the steps leading up to the school.

“Right, sorry sir. Emotional day” Y/n speaks first.

“A lot of truth came out sir, we needed it” Wanda then says.

“Wanda might not be my father sir, I’m so depressed” Nat shrugs.

“I’m…I’m actually traumatised because of you three. Thanks for that.”

“Rude. Well goodbye sir, thanks for being the best teacher ever!” Y/n waves.

“Bye ladies, good luck with everything” he says walking back in to the school, he had to admit that he was going to miss seeing the trio and miss their antics.

“You’re such a teacher’s pet” Nat laughed.

“It’s called respect madam, something you clearly don’t have for your mother!”

“Y/n, baby it’s time to go” Maria interrupts whatever Nat was going to say.

“Coming. Well ladies I guess this is it, it’s been a pleasure knowing you but this is where the curtains close, I bid you adieu.” Y/n bows.

“And I’m called dramatic” rolling her eyes Wanda bows too.

“Alright guess I’ve got to do the same” Nat follows along.

“But no in all seriousness I’m so glad I met you and I’m forever grateful to the pair of you”

“Always Y/n you know this, we’ll always be friends no matter what and we’ll see each other next month” Nat said as she pulls Y/n into a hug.

“I love you both” Wanda says wrapping her arms around her friends.

Pulling away they all smile at each other.

“Last one to their parents cars are a rotten egg in 3…2…1” 

They take off running to their parents; Y/n first, Nat second and Wanda third.

“No fair! You guys know I’m terrible at running!” Wanda shouts from her parents’ car.

The drive home was filled with conversations, laughter and catching up. It had been six months since they had seen her in that six months she looked more grown up, more sure of herself, happier.

Maria couldn’t help but smile as her daughter rambled on about what her and her friends had been getting up to. Amazed by how she looked so much like her mama, Maria made it her sole mission to make sure Y/n got a few photographs of her and her mama from the hell hole of a house she grew up in. Maria had kept one for herself it was a photo of Y/n who was roughly three or four years old with her arms wrapped around her mamas neck who had a baby Y/n in her arms as they stood outside a cabin, both smiling widely as the camera captured a beautiful moment between mother and daughter.

It was only after seeing that photograph that Maria understood where Y/n had gotten her crazy unruly hair from, Maria knew that Y/n was blessed to have taken her looks and traits from such a beautiful woman.

Y/n didn’t know that her momma would go to her mamas grave and put fresh flowers down every weekend or how she would sit on the hard ground and speak to the woman she never met before and talk for hours telling her how their daughter was growing, how she was cheeky and caring, how smart she was. Or how just before she would leave the grave where her birth mom laid Maria would place a kiss to her fingers and place them on the headstone and say “thank you my friend” because yes even though she had never met the woman and that she was no longer alive she had become Maria’s friend, and every time she thanked the woman it was for giving her a wonderful gift, Y/n.

“-mom? Momma are you even listening?” Y/n says.

“Oh, sorry darling yes I’m listening”

“No you weren’t but it’s okay I was just saying that Nat had found a rat in her bag and she screamed so loudly it nearly burst my eardrums”

“To be truthful I would have done the same thing” Maria chuckles.

“I know! I had to calm it down because it had gotten scared, I mean well so would I if I had Nat screaming and trying to hit me with a bag” Y/n giggles.

Shaking her head she was so happy that Y/n had Nat and Wanda as friends, they treat her good and were really amazing friends to her daughter. When she met the two red heads she was taken back by watching their dynamic and how well Y/n fit in so perfectly.

“Natasha’s reaction was perfectly justifiable” she points out.

“That’s true but she could have calmed down, I was there and we all know I’m great at talking to animals and calming them down” she smirks.

“Very true angel, listen…please don’t be mad-“

“No…dad you both promised!”

“It wasn’t our idea angel but George’s and Winnie’s, darling they’ve missed you-“

“A party dad? I suck at those things”

“It’s not a party but more like a get together-“

“So a party. Uncle George and Aunt Winnie don’t do “get togethers” dad and you know that”

“Well it’s happening and you’re going to enjoy it, you’re going to smile and have a good time and you’ll thank George and Winnie afterwards” Howard speaks.

“Yes Master”

“Good boy”

“Treat?”

“Not yet”

“Do you want me to give you my paw?”

“Mar our dog talks way too much, I told you we should have gone with a German shepherd and not a Chihuahua”

“Oi I’m not a Chihuahua! If I had to be a dog I probably would be basset hound…”

“Why?”

“They’re so cute and lazy and small”

Howard lets out a booming laugh as he nods, Y/n joins in whilst Maria looks at the driver who’s trying not to laugh “would you be a dear and crash the car for me please?”

“No don’t, I can’t get a treat if I’m dead” Y/n laughs out causing Howard to laugh even louder.

“‘A get together’ yeah alright dad! It’s like the whole world is here” she scoffs.

“Don’t be so dramatic, come on and don’t forget to smile”

Half of the people who had showed up she didn’t even know and the ones she did were either nice to her or people who helped to torment her but doing as her father said she smiled at everyone, saying her thanks when people congratulated her for graduating school.

“My sweetie!” Winnie’s loud voice came from across the garden, Y/n watched at the woman who she’s missed dearly nearly runs over to her.

“Miss Winnie, I’ve missed you!” She wraps her arms around her third mother figure.

“I’ve missed you too my sweet baby, oh look at you! All so grown up and so bloody beautiful, where’s that’s little girl who broke my heart all them years ago gone?”

“I killed her and buried her in the backyard but don’t tell my momma or dada that” she giggled.

“I won’t don’t worry your secrets safe with me” Winnie winked.

“Is-is that…no I don’t believe my eyes. It’s my darling girl!” George shouts ignoring all the looks that get thrown his way as he makes his way over to Y/n and Winnie.

“Hi Mr George”

“Oh my, you’re as beautiful as ever!” He picks her up and spins her around just as he did when she was little “oof and your heavier”

“George!” Winnie scolds.

“What have they been feeding you at that school hey missy?” He asks completely ignoring his wife.

“Humans from all over the world” she winks with a shoulder shrug.

“Are they nice? I’ve been thinking of getting into eating humans” 

“Honestly? I recommend that you should, tasty” she laughs, George and Winnie joining in.

“On a serious note though, I’ve missed you darling and I’m so proud of you. And please remember I love you, you’ve always been our daughter too. Oh God I’m so fucking proud of you” George says with tears in his eyes as he remembers the first day he met her, how small and scruffy she was, how scared she look. After what that monster did to her he was scared that she wasn’t going to survive. It’s true though, he and Winnie saw her as their daughter before Howard and Maria adopted her.

“I love you both too and I will forever be indebted to you both”

“Nonsense silly girl” Winnie says.

“Are you trying to steal my daughter away?” Howard laughs as he walks over.

“Obviously, the plan is to knock you and Maria out and I’m going to kidnap this one” George says.

Howard laughs which has George turning to Y/n “he thinks I’m joking, but I’m not”

“Don’t wind him up” she laughs.

She’s oblivious to the conversation that’s happening on the other side of the garden as she laughs with her parents and surrogate parents.

“My sweetie!” He hears his mother call out and he knows instantly that Y/n has arrived as he looks in the direction his mother is making her way over to his breath gets caught in his throat.

His Bunny.

His Bunny all grown up.

His Bunny all grown up and looking just as beautiful as she looked the last time he saw her.

There hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where he hadn’t regretted this shit that spewed out of his mouth that day. When he found out that she had left it felt like his heart had been ripped out of his chest and stomped on a million times.

Of course he was never friends with her out of pity, she was easy to talk to, she made him laugh, she was his best friend, his person.

His soulmate as Winnie would say.

But every day he reminded himself that he only had himself to blame.

“I-is that…” Steve questioned with his eyes trained on his best friend who he hasn’t seen in three years.

“Bunny” Bucky nods.

“Holy shit she’s gorgeous” Sam says.

“Yeah she is” Bucky agrees.

“When are you going to talk to her?” Steve asks.

“I’m not. She’s not going to want to talk to me, not after what I said the last time we saw each other”

“That was three years ago Buck, it’s Y/n she’s no doubt forgiven you”

“I doubt it. Steve you have no idea how sad she looked man”

“Bro just go and talk to her” Sam says taking a sip of his beer.

“I-I can’t, are you two going to talk to her?”

“Yeah…well I was going to wait for her reaction with you first before making my way over to her” Steve admits.

“Same if she hits you then I’m staying away but if she doesn’t then yeah of course I’ll talk to her”

“Cheers” Bucky grumbles his eyes refusing to move away from her.

They all watch as she laughs with her parents and Bucky’s, they don’t stop the smile from forming onto their lips as they watch their best friend.

They all carried their own guilt from three years ago and all silently hope that she forgives them for what happened.

“Buck go and talk to her” Steve tries to encourage his friend mainly so he could then talk to her.

“Yeah…yeah I’m going to do it” he puts his drink down on the table before straightening his shirt out.

Just as he was about to take that first step closer to his Bunny he stutters when he sees a tall bulky guy with blonde hair walk up behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, watching as she squeals turning around in the guys hold.

He watches as she places her hands on either side of his face and places her lips to his.

He’s pretty certain that he hears his heart breaking.

“Buck…”

“Huh? Yeah?”

“A-are you alright?”

“I’m fine, so she’s got a boyfriend that’s cool” he turns to pick his drink back up and downs it in one gulp. “Do-do you think she’s happy?”

Steve and Sam share a look before answering. “We’re not sure pal”

“I hope she is, t-that’s all I’ve ever wanted for her.”

They continue to watch as Y/n introduces the guy to Bucky’s parents and they can tell instantly that Winnie’s smile is fake, she’s always been the one rooting for Y/n and James to get together. The smile on Y/n’s face is as big as it ever was as she stares up at the guy.

“How do you think they met?” Bucky asks.

“God knows, but as long as he treats her right that’s all that matters really.” Sam says eyeing Bucky cautiously.

“I hope so”

As the party winds down the boys not barely moving apart from Sam as he raids the table with all the food on it. They watch as the blonde guy leaves, not without having a make out session with Y/n.

As the guests start leaving Bucky’s quick to notice that Y/n is no longer around and when George stumbles over to the boys he finds out that Y/n’s disappeared and wonders if they had seen her, they all shake their heads.

“I think I might know where she is, hold on”

He makes his way down to the bottom of the garden and climbs over the fence, really hoping he was right.

“Bunny” he whispers when he sees her sitting on the ground in the spot they claimed as theirs, the same spot he first laid eyes on her when he was just seven years old.

“Hi James” she whispers back keeping her back to him.

“C-can I sit next to you?”

“Sure”

For the first time since the two have known each other they sit side by side in uncomfortable silence. It pains the both of them that this is how it’s come down to this.

But unfortunately it had.

“So-um-how are you?” Bucky asked as he stumbled over his words.

“I’m good, what about you?”

“Good, that’s good. I-I’ve missed you Bunny” he admits, his heart squeezing when he sees her flinching.

“Oh”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I just don’t know why you would have missed me when you didn’t want me to be your friend anymore or ever”

“I didn’t mean it Bun I swear. I was angry an-and I took it out on you, I’ve regretted it ever since”

“Why was you angry? I’m the one that had my back exposed to the whole school and the three people who were my only friends, the only people I trusted more than anything didn’t try and stop it or-or even try and help me. You had no right in being angry James” he hates how she doesn’t raise her voice and hates that she calls him James.

“I know and I’m sorry Y/n I really am”

“It’s okay I guess.”

“No it’s not! None of the shit I said or didn’t do was okay, you’re my best friend Bun and I should have stuck up for you. I shouldn’t have said I chose Dot over you because you always came first no matter what”

“It’s okay because it doesn’t matter anymore, I got over it”

“Over it or over me?”

“Honestly? Both”

Bucky released a choking sob at her admission, she had gotten over him and he didn’t know what to do. “Bun-“

“You shouldn’t call me that James, don’t want to upset your girlfriend”

“I-I don’t have a girlfriend”

“What happened with Dot?”

“She-I walked in on her having sex with Brock”

“Really?”

“Yeah, she said it was a one time thing but he said they’d been at it for months so…”

“I’m sorry, I never liked her”

“Did you even know her?”

“No…what kind of name is Dot anyway?”

“It’s short for Dolores” he laughed.

“Stupid name for a stupid girl. How long were you two dating for?”

“A year, actually walked in on them the day after our one year anniversary”

“That’s cold”

“Yeah. What about you? Lover boy back there” he watches as her cheeks start to turn red and a shy smile on her lips, his heart pounds loudly in his chest at the sight.

“His names Pietro, w-we’ve been dating for five months now”

“How did you two meet?”

“He’s actually my best friends twin brother, we met when her family came up to see Wanda and she introduced us and yeah, he asked me out on a date and then another and another then he asked me out”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does, well when he’s not talking with his mouth full” she giggled, and for the first time in over three years she looks up at him. Breath gets caught in her throat as he’s looking just as beautiful as he looked the last time she saw him.

“I’m glad, not about the food in mouth when he talks thing but I’m glad he makes you happy”

Not knowing how to reply they fell back into silence but this time it was comfortable.

Y/n was the first one to break the silence “do you know if anyone lives in my old house?”

“No one wanted to move in after…you know”

“Oh. Have you ever been there?”

“Once, I didn’t go in or anything I just stood outside”

“When?”

“A few months after you left. I’m not sure why I did it but” Y/n stood up and held her hand out for James to take and helped him stand, pulling her hand away from his once he was stood up she started to walk in the direction of her old home.

“Come on slow pokes” she called over her shoulder.

“Y/n are you sure about this?”

“My therapist said that it might help me to be able to finally move on”

“You’re in therapy?”

“Yeah, mom said it might help after what I did”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I tried to kill myself” she shrugged.

As she carried on walking she hadn’t realised that Bucky had stopped. She had tried to end her life and no one told him. Bucky had lost her as his friend and nearly lost her in this world completely and no one told him.

“Ducky?”

His heart stopped at that name.

“Duck? Come on we’re not that far now”

“Y-you called me Ducky”

“Well yeah that’s your name isn’t it?” She smirked.

“Bunny please don’t joke about this. You called me Ducky even though we’re not friends anymore”

“You’ll always be Ducky to me James. And who said we’re not friends anymore?”

“We-we aren’t?”

“Nope, we said we’d be friends forever and forever hasn’t ended yet so therefore our friendship is still intact, come”

“B-but what I said”

“It’s in the past”

“Can we go back to being Bunny and Ducky again?”

“Well of course, that’s if you actually did want to be my friend and not just doing it out of pit-“

A loud squeal echoed through the woods as Bucky charged at her picking her up as if she weighed nothing and spun her around. “I never meant what I said Bun never not for one second, please forgive me and I promise I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you”

“Buy me an ice cream and all is forgiven”

Laughing he puts her down slowly and nods “I can do that. Bun”

“Yeah”

“Yo-you tried to kill yourself?”

“Yeah, it was about a year ago”

“Why did you try and do it? Why wasn’t I told?”

“I was in a dark place Duck, remember my special place?-“ she taps the side of her head and watches as he nods “-well it wasn’t special anymore and-well I don’t want to get in to it but it got bad so I wanted to end it”

Rolling her sleeves up she showed Bucky the two angry long scars on her arms, he slowly reached out and gently glided a finger down the scars. “Nat found me in the bathroom and screamed out for Wanda who went and got a teacher, Mr Walters came running and picked me up rushed me to the schools nurse and I was taken to the hospital when an ambulance arrived. My parents were called and I begged them not to tell anyone that included your parents Ducky, they don’t know.”

“Bunny…”

“I’m okay now though, yeah I have bad days still but it’s not as bad as it had been and Dr Cho is incredible, she’s so sweet and she’s never once judged me about anything and she makes me laugh, oh and she always has sweets!”

“I should have been with you Bun, I’m so sorry I let you down”

“Hey none of that! It’s not your fault at all, mental health is a bitch-shit-fuck-please don’t tell momma I swore!”

“You still don’t swear?” Bucky laughs.

“No momma says it’s unladylike”

“You? A lady?” He has to stop walking and bends over with laughter.

“Oh shut up! I could be a lady”

“Never!”

Y/n knows it’s true herself but that was beside the point.

“Shut up. Come on I need your support to get this over and done with”

“I’m coming Bun, are you sure you want me here with you?”

“Always”

The rest of the walk was done in silence and before she realises she’s standing in front on the wired fence surrounding her old home. Looking at Bucky she musters a smile that he knows is fake and presses down on the fence and climbs over.

Waiting for Bucky to do the same she stares at the slowly decaying building that’s haunted her nightmares since she was seven years old. The ivy wraps itself around the house, windows are smashed from either Mother Nature, kids playing in the woods or animals. For some reason the building looks just like it’s supposed to - a building. She feels quite silly for letting it terrorise her dreams now that she’s standing in front of it, it doesn’t seem so scary now.

“Bun, we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to” Bucky’s gentle voice came from next to her.

“No I’ve got to, I’ve got to put the monster to bed once and for all. It’s-it-can we just wait out here for a few minutes, please?”

“Of course Bun. I’m right here”

A few minutes go by and she finally puts one foot out in front of the other, taking slow steps towards the place she once called home a very long time ago now. Her chest starts to feel tighter as she got closer to her nightmare.

Pushing the door open Bucky stepped up first knocking the cobwebs out of the way before moving back to where he was before.

“Thanks” she whispered.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this. She chanted softly to herself as she forced her feet to move forward.

It was weird. As she walked further into the cabin she saw the small dinning table laying on its side, the two chairs broken and the small dingy couch still in the same spot as they were that night her father nearly killed her.

The floorboards creaked under their feet as they moved around the place.

“Th-this is where it happened” she whispers to Bucky as they stand in the middle of the room.

“Bun-“

“That’s my blood Duck” she points to the faded blood stains on the floor.

“Bun-“

“It’s creepy isn’t it? I laid right there and was on my way to play with angels before the cops showed up and now my blood is stained into the wood”

“Bun look at me, come on Bun look at me. Good, it’s okay. It’s all okay”

“I-I know it’s just creepy isn’t it?”

“Yeah, yeah it is”

“Can I show you my room?”

“Okay”

Walking down the hallway she comes to a stop in front of the first door on the right and she starts to push the wooden door open, both wincing as the hinges squeak.

“Nothings changed in here ah” Y/n moves over to the tiny desk her mama had gotten her she smiles “look…”

“It’s a stick Bun”

“Ah nope it’s not any old stick Ducky, it’s the stick you picked up the second time we met”

“What? Really, you kept it?”

“Of course aha. Hey can you help me move this?”

“Sure”

They move the desk - well Bucky did whilst Y/n stands there and watches - Y/n thanks him before kneeling down on the floor and started to lift up the floorboard smiling in victory when she sees the metal tin her mama had put there when she was five.

“What is it?”

“This, this has my toys that my mama hid so that he wouldn’t break them” she sits with her legs crossed and smiles up at Bucky as he sits across from her.

“Toys?”

“Yeah, but not any old toys Duck, no these are animal toys-look” she groans as she pulls the lid open “this is a giraffe, this is a sheep? no a goat, and an elephant-“ she lists off all the animals in the box as she blindly hands them over to Bucky who’s sitting there with his eyes fixed on her, the way her smile lights up makes his heart tingle, the way she sounds so happy brings a smile to his face. It had been so long since her saw her shine so brightly.

“And here’s a photo of me and mama”

Taking the photo his eyes bounce from the photo to her, it was the first time since he was either eight or nine that he’d seen a photo of his Bunnies mom “you look just like her”

“No, she’s beautiful”

“Exactly.” He smiles when her cheeks start to go red. “Hey do you have anything of your mamas?”

“Just photos” she shrugs.

“Come” he helps her put all the toy animals back in the tin and stands, helping her raise too he takes her hand and asks “is this her room?”

“Yeah why?”

“Let’s see if there’s anything of hers still here so you can have them”

“Duck…”

“It’s okay Bunny” he opens the door instantly shutting it before placing his body in front of the door.

“James?”

“I-I-we can’t go in there Bun”

“I know. Is there still blood?”

“You know?”

“Yeah, that’s the reason why he nearly killed me that night. I tried to find my mama and went into her room and well, yeah”

“Oh Bun”

“It’s okay, I want to go in it might help me feel closer to my mama if I have something of hers”

“Just don’t look at the bed okay baby”

Baby. Her heart shouldn’t stutter the way it did.

“Okay”

Bucky opens the door making his way over to the bed to flip the quilt over so she doesn’t have to see the stains, again.

“She always wore this jumper, I put it on once and tripped over when I tried to walk” she giggles.

“Take it, what about this?” Bucky hold up a long skirt that had patterns on it.

“In the summer she would pull up over her chest so it was like a dress and look it has pockets!”

“Take?”

“Absolutely”

Over the course of twenty minutes Bucky had found a small suitcase and they filled it with all the clothes she wanted to take.

“Bun is this box your mamas?”

“Yeah it’s where her jewels lived.” Laughing when Bucky cocks his eyebrow up “I couldn’t say jewellery so mama said jewels and told me that the box was their home”

“Fair enough, would you like to take it?”

“Okay”

By the time they had finished it was close to being pitch black in the cabin. “Come on Duck its getting too dark to see anything now”

“Okay” as they moved their way through the cabin laughing at each other when the other had bumped into something, getting to the door Bucky stopped “wait a second Bun”

“Duck-“

“Gimme a second Bun”

He goes back inside and she giggles when she hears him say “ow” a few minutes he comes back out smiling whilst holding up the metal tin that housed her toy animals.

“Couldn’t forget this now could we?”

“Y/n? Where the hell have you been?”

“My old house…”

“Oh.”

“Yeah Ducky helped me get things that was my mamas”

“Ducky?” Both sets of parents say in unison.

“Yeah, we’re friends again”

Their dads, Bucky and Y/n all flinch when Maria and Winnie start screaming in joy, hugging each other whilst they jump around in a circle.

“Don’t even think about it George” Howard warns his longest friend as George slinks over to him.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Howie”

“Don’t call me that!”

Bucky takes Y/n’s hand in his and slowly backs up whilst their dads argue.

“That was embarrassing” he laughs.

“It’s cute. Maybe we’ll be like that with our kids one day”

“W-what?” Bucky splutters, cheeks going bright red.

“N-no I mean me and my husband and you with your wife…you know?”

Before Bucky could reply they heard Sam’s voice from the doorway.

“Y/n…”

“Hi Sammy, hi Stevie”

Bucky watches as his three best friends reunite with each other, he has to admit that her comment about kids made his stomach flutter then drop when she mentions about her imaginary husband and his imaginary wife.

For the first time in three years Bucky felt whole once again.

<Previous   Next>

Tags: @cjand10 @unaxv @mcira @bisexualnikkisixx @kneelforloki @kandis-mom @sagebarness @sandyruston @scott-loki-barnes @nikkivillar @saltedcoffeescotch @scentedharmonymiracle @examinarei @sarcastickiddo @sadboiabby @unholyhuntress @8crazy-freak8 @ijustneedpopcorn @moonbeampillgoth @imcinnamoons @elmo-1066 @violetwinterwidow01 @suz7days @adoredire @ozwriterchick @randomrosie01 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @emerald-writes @justafangir1 @sibsteria @spencerreidisagorgman @sapphirebarnes @bruher @hawkinsavclub1983 @onlyonetifosi @parisadams @unabashedstarlightcrown @nash-dara @allofffmypeaches @loki-laufeyson68 @behindmygreyeyes @missvelvetsstuff @pigeonmama @lizslibrary @gloriouspurpose01

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barns x y/n #Through The Years #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #marvel fic #Bucky Barnes series #Bucky Barnes angst #bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky Barnes fluff #James Barnes #james barnes x you #Bucky series #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes friends to lovers

[vellicore]

Twisted Pairing: Step Dad!Lloyd Hansen x Step Daughter!Reader

Word Count: 600+

Warnings: stepcest, voyeurism, female masturbation, nudity, implied future anal, minor daddy kink, dubcon/noncon if you squint, reader is early twenties, age gap.

Request: Lloyd Hansen, Step Dad, “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.”, and anal. Requested by: anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I've been so slow with writing these. January has proven to be much more difficult than I had anticipated. I promise the stories are coming, and I am looking forward to doing your requests. This isn't my best work, but I still had fun writing it. It has not been beta read, so any mistakes are my own. As always my work is intended for adult audiences so 18+ only! Minors DNI. Pay attention to all tags and warnings. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Writing Event Masterlist (still in the works)

From the first time Lloyd saw you he knew he needed to have you. That’s the thing about Lloyd Hansen, he always gets what he wants. He’d only married your mother because of the connections she provided. With her he’d be able to spread his business out throughout the country. What he hadn’t expected was the delicious present she had been hiding. 

Tonight your mother was out with friends from college. Lloyd knew this was the perfect opportunity to get what he’d been craving. You. He could picture you up in your bedroom reading one of your countless books. It was cute how you always seemed to find ways to avoid him. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, he knew you felt something too. There was a magnetic pull between the two of you, and tonight would be the night he finally gets what he’s needed.

Lloyd makes his way up the stairs and stops outside your bedroom door. He’d expected to hear nothing, but instead he could hear what sounded like quiet whimpers. His eyes flutter shut as he leans in closer hoping to be able to hear you better. “Oh… Oh fuck, Lloyd.” There was no denying what he heard that time. You were in there touching what belonged to him. Without giving it a second thought, Lloyd quickly began to undress himself. This hadn’t been how he planned to do this, but when the opportunity presents itself how could he say no?

Once undressed, Lloyd opens your door. It takes you a moment to realize he’s standing there, and boy was he thankful for that. For that meant he was able to get a full spread eagle view of your soaked cunt. He watched as your finger meticulously rubbed your clit. The little moans that left your mouth were like music to his ears. It was when he let out a small grunt of approval that your eyes finally opened. 

The look of embarrassment washed over your face. But that look quickly turned into confusion and horror when you spotted that he was naked. Your eyes traveled down to his hard cock which was now between his large hand. Lloyd’s smirk grew when he saw that your eyes appeared to be glued on him. “What’s the matter? You’re acting like you’ve never seen a naked man before.” His eyes never once leave yours as he slowly strides across your bedroom. “Oh come on, sunshine. We both know what you were just doing — who you were thinking about. Come on, be a good girl, show me.” 

The more he talked, the more your body seemed to tremble from nerves. “I - I don’t know what you’re talking about, Lloyd.” He rolls his eyes at your attempt to play dumb. He wasn’t going to allow you to continue your charade of being so called innocent. “You really want to play that game? Fine, show me. Prove to me that you’re not soaked right now. Because you and I both know that your little pussy is dripping for me. Dripping for your step-daddy.” His words cause a small to leave your lips.

Maybe just this once you can give into your desires. Maybe just this once you can be bad. 

Lloyd could hear a semblance of a plea when he watched you lay back on your bed. Your legs spread wide, inviting him to come give you both what you need. But Lloyd lets out a small tut and shakes his head. “Sorry, sunshine. That pussy isn’t what I’m interested in right now. I’d rather fuck your untouched hole. Turn around now.”

#vellicores writing event #lloyd hansen #step dad lloyd hansen #step dad!lloyd hansen #stepdad!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x fem!reader #lloyd hansen ficlet #lloyd hansen fic #lloyd hansen drabble #chris evans #the gray man

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, eventual Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk

Word Count: 1.3k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 4

“Hold on a minute, Sid..” Billy tossed his sweater to the side, removing it from his lap, standing up.

“Why were you at her house?” Sidney fumed, stomping her feet. “Usually, I wouldn’t have a problem with it, but you lied to me, Billy. Why couldn’t you have just been honest from the get-go?” She tapped her sneaker-covered foot off the ground, waiting for an answer from her boyfriend.

“I--I don’t know, I mean, I figured you’d react like this if I did tell you…” He expressed.

You ‘tsk’d’, standing up. “Sid, it isn’t a big deal, he was coming to me for advic--” You began, but was quickly shh’d by your not-so-close friend, Sidney.

“You.. You have no room to talk.” She screeched, her cheeks flaring, as she began to dig out of her bag, taking out a red leather journal, labeled, ‘(Y/n) <3’ with a black heart stitched into the cover. “You were seeing Steve behind Brooke’s back, you slept with him on her birthday of all days.. And you kept going back for more! How do I know you and Billy weren’t doing the same?”

Your eyes widened, ‘Of course… That’s how she knew about you ‘dating’ Steve.’

“It’s.. It’s not like that with Billy!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill and Sidney whipped your journal at your chest before it fell to the ground with a thud.

“Of course it isn’t.. Why would he want someone like you, anyways?” She snarled.

You ignored her harsh words, but you couldn’t help but agree with her, why would he want someone like you anyways?

“Wh-Where did you even get this?” You stuttered, hurt engulfing your voice. “Why would you even read it?” You sniffled. “This shit is personal…” At this rate, tears were streaming down your face, you were a hot-agitated mess.

“You left it in English, you’re lucky I was the one who found it and not Brooke..” She groaned, narrowing her brows, “I wasn’t planning on reading it, but I was curious… It’s a good thing I did though…” She snipped, folding her arms over one another, “You’re such a whore, you know that?” Venom laced her words, you can tell she was holding that in for a while.

“C’mon, Sidney, don’t be like that.” Stu spoke, trying to break the catfight, though he was secretly enjoying it. He placed a hand on Tatum’s shoulder, giving it a slight squeeze, hinting for her to get up in there, hoping that some sick-and-twisted porno would break out; having you be the main girl he’d watch.

Something about you being all flustered and crying had his head elsewhere, he couldn’t help but think how your pretty-little face would look in all sorts of positions. Whether it be your face pressed into a pillow, or his hand wrapped around your neck, limiting your oxygen. How you’d most likely cry and scream because everything felt so good, how dumbified you’d be after he was finished with you.

You’d be a sopping-sputtering mess.

Stu quickly placed his hand on his crotch, feeling his jeans tightening around his bulge.

“Fuck…” He mumbled, hoping no one heard as he slyly adjusted himself so no one saw his erection.

“This is my cue to leave…” Randy laughed awkwardly, looking at the fight that’s breaking out in front of him, this caused Stu to fixate his thoughts on something else.

Stu looked at Randy as his classmate started to head towards the school. Stu prayed that his buddy didn’t see the position that he was in.

“Mine, too…” Tatum mumbled, gripping onto Stu’s arm, “Let’s go, Babe…”

Stu nodded, “Uh, yeah, yeah, let’s go.”

You angrily waved bye to your three friends, knowing very well that your argument was making them uncomfortable.

You looked at Sidney, your personality switching from crybaby to angry.

Billy glanced at the two of you, watching the scene unfold, he didn’t like how Sidney was treating you; he hated it per say, but he couldn’t do much about it, not yet at least…

“If you cared to even read it all since you already started, it would’ve said that Billy came over for advice, to see why you wouldn’t touch him, Sidney, he loves you and he came to his closest friend asking for help with what to do.” You heaved, “But no, you read the worst pages I’ve written about myself. Why start snooping if you weren’t going to finish it at all?” You spat, bending over to pick up your journal. “I regret what I did behind Brooke’s back, this is something I have to deal with for the rest of my life, and you know what? I can live with that.” Sidney grimaced at the tone of your voice, “If anyone’s a whore, though, look at what your mother did.” Her eyes widened at the sudden insult, “She had her legs open for every married man in town, and look where it got her…” You started to breathe heavily, “It got her killed.” You snickered, wiping your eyes, freeing them from any tears. You were pleased with what you said, “I am a saint compared to what she did.” You hugged your journal close, “Maybe if you weren’t such a prude, he wouldn’t be sneaking into another girls’ window!”

“You..You, bitch!” Sidney screamed, tears running down her own face. She went to slap you, but Billy caught her wrist. He didn’t say anything, but nodded at you.

Sidney whined, clenching her fist, ripping her arm away from Billy, and stormed off, not looking back.

Billy walked towards you, leaning into your ear, “Was that necessary?” He chortled, taking light in the situation.

The deepness of his voice sent shivers down your spine and coated your arms in goosebumps. Your breath hitched as you gulped down the ball that seemed to form in your throat. The hair on your arms stood as he slowly trailed his index finger up and down your arm, his touch was warm, but oddly cold, he enjoyed seeing you tremble at the slightest touch he’d give. Of course he knew about your ‘little’ crush on him, Sidney wasn’t the only one who read that journal, but him, too. Though, she didn’t read as far as he did. Thankfully because that would’ve ruined the plan.

He knew about Steve as well, why do you think he had killed him? He killed him for you, but do you need to know it, right away? No, definitely not. That’s set for a later date. He and Stu also killed Casey for you, they didn’t like how she was treating you during school, they had to end it together. However, neither of them knew that the other had feelings for you at the same time, that their motivation to end their late classmates' lives was because of you.

As far as they both know, they killed Casey for tormenting you, but also because Stu held a grudge against her. They killed Steve because he was taking advantage of you, but was also a bystander. He was able to fuck you senseless during the late hours of the night, but didn’t have the balls to step in when his girlfriend was being a douche? That didn’t sit well with either of them, plus, they were jealous Steve had you first.

He looked over your face, loving how sun-kissed your skin was. His breath lingered on the slope of your neck as he twirled a strand of your (H/c) hair.

It earned him a slight whimper from you, quickly making you blush.

“I’ll see you in class, okay?” He smiled, his pearly whites glinting. He enjoyed seeing you like this, he might just pay you a visit tonight.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Uh-huh…”

<- Previous Next ->

#fanfiction #billy loomis x female reader #ghostface x female reader #stu macher x female reader #Stu Macher #Billy loomis #scream franchise #stu x reader #billy x you x stu #billy x you #billy x stu #scream 1996 #billy x reader #billy loomis smut #Stu Macher smut #billy loomis x reader #stu matcher x reader #ghostface #scream x reader #Stu imagine #billy imagine

[doggoboigaugau]

Omegas' Dystopia

This story is based on this post.

Pairing: Alpha!Male Reader x Omega!Ghost / Submissive top!Male reader x Dominant bottom!Ghost

Tag: A/B/O, world-building, dystopia, historical fiction

Summary: Alphas are the victims of society's hierarchy. Ghost finds the medic of his team in a building and in heat.

Word count: 2129 words

Distant noises of men screaming and shouting were piercing through your brain while continuous explosions almost deafened your ears. You tried to urge your brain to work on recalling what the hell was going on at this very moment, but it was inundated with too many noises for analyzing to make room for another matter. Helplessly, you turned to your body, internally screaming for it to function as you found yourself unable to open your eyes, move your arms, or open your mouth. On top of that, you can feel your whole body burning uncomfortably as if you’re put on a cross and burnt alive like the Omega ‘witches’ in medieval times, and the burn feels the worst in your stomach. 

Your heat arrives. Worst, it arrives in the middle of a gruesome battle, and you are the only medic alive on your team. 

“Fuck.” You mumble. It won’t be too bad if you have your emergency kit containing scent suppressants with you like always, but during the ambush earlier, you dropped it while running for your life. If your enemy finds that kit, they’ll know there is an Alpha somewhere on this battlefield.

That won’t be of the gravest concern for you right now. Because you are in heat, your scent will soon flood this whole compound, and any Omegas that can sense it will blow this place up and search every corner to find you. A weak, lonely, delicious, and especially rare Alpha. It’s scary to even think about what will happen when they find you. Given that only 2,9% of the population now are Alphas, and most Omegas are likely to live their lives without experiencing Alpha scents and intercourse with Alphas until their very death, once you are found, you’ll never be found again. You’ll be kept in a cage, whether it is a room in a military base, a luxurious mansion, or a literal cage, and your only job from then on is to be a pretty little thing for the Omegas to cherish and sexualize.

“I have to think of something…” You mumble to yourself again. But what thing? Without scent suppressants, the Omegas will soon locate you and ‘eat you alive’.

Suddenly, the sound of heavy boots echoes on the first floor of the building whose second floor you’re hiding in. Who is this? You ask yourself. Are they on your side or on the enemy’s side? Either way, if you don’t think of an escape plan right now, your life as a free individual will end abruptly. 

You look outside the window of the room, looking down at the ground below.

“Too high…” Even if you escape from this building, your legs probably won’t be good enough to run from potential predators later.

Much to your horror, you can no longer hear any sound anymore. The sound of the heavy boots just earlier appears to vanish into thin air, since now the only noises your fuzzy head under the influence of the heat can make out of are from gun fires, explosions, and screaming. Where does that person go? The inability to locate the potential enemy and the fear of losing freedom forever, subjected to hungry men’s wishes, makes the burning in your brain and stomach worsens, scared of your own active imagination.

“Doc?”

You jump. It’s a familiar voice, belonging to the person whom even in the middle of a crowd you can always recognize.

“L.t…” You mutter, turning your head back to what is supposed to be the door of this room in this dilapidated building. Ghost is standing there. His expression is hard to tell as always because of his skull mask, but you can easily guess his eyes are widened in surprise.

“You- you are an Alpha???” The massive man exclaims. It’s a piece of information that renders even the most unimpressionable man like Ghost speechless.

*****

Since the first record of humanity on Earth, there have been three genders: Alpha, Beta, and Omega. At the beginning of mankind, according to prehistoric parietal art, drawings on vessels, bowls, or potteries, and earliest writings, Alphas were described as the dominant individuals of the communities, leaders and decision makers of all trades, and the biggest contributors to growth and advancement in every field of the early societies. Betas and Omegas were by no means members of no use, but their roles were rather more passive and behind the scene, and when outright wars threatened, it was the Alphas that were powerful enough to withstand successive tortuous days of fighting and sustaining horrendous injuries. Portraits of Alphas were often men of tall and muscular build and in powerful poses, such as riding on horses with weapons in hands, or standing before a throne and overlooking a kingdom. Archaeological evidence suggested that during the early time, Alphas, Betas, and Omegas lived in harmony and each gender had specific roles to play in society, as Alphas–the gender bestowed with physical advantages–were in charge of diplomatic activities which also included wars; Omegas, with their slender frames, delicate hands, and exceptional reproductive abilities, were creators of the majority of arts, as well as the housekeepers responsible for educating offspring; Betas, who seemed to be the most “ordinary” of all since they were without any exceptional traits, would do anything necessary that Alphas and Omegas didn’t have the time for to keep the society function properly. In short, all genders were important parts of the early society, each represented a strong link in the chain of the prehistoric generations. 

Regarding attraction and reproductive activities, humanity functioned mainly based on scent. Alphas and Omegas, as the most sexually active ones, had very strong and unique scents, and as a result, their scent glands which were located on the back of their neck were more prominent. Betas’ scents were much weaker, so the glands on their necks were not as noticeable. Another notable characteristic of Alphas and Omegas was heat circles. This varied across individuals, but on average, every three weeks or a month, they would experience heat, the time during which their reproductive capacities were greatest, and contrary to popular early belief, both Alphas and Omegas needed gentle care and constant scent reassurance from their mates. In order to mark someone as their “mate”, Alphas or Omegas would bite the scent gland on the back of the mate’s neck and inject their own scents into the individual through it, although historians agreed that Alphas were often the ones to do this kind of gestures due to their more dominant role in the early society.

However, the harmonious relationships among these three genders started to show signs of deterioration when mankind began expeditions to other territories in search of safe trading routes, both on land and at sea, to boost their economy. As trading exploded on various continents, bestowing great wealth and luxury to men, the consumers’ needs also brought about the emergence of new commodities. Omegas were one of those. Slavery became immensely profitable, and Omegas were abducted, captured, and forced to leave their homes. Since then, the value of Omegas was reduced to that of property that Alphas could own.

That part of the dark history was not taught in schools to children nowadays. The details of that time are only known to the historians, and are protected by the governments, which are now mainly run by Omegas. In fact, more than 90% of the people in power now are Omegas. 

What brought about such a chance? The Omegas never accepted their place as slaves. After several generations of slavery, which could amount to some centuries, Omegas had become stronger, larger, and more muscular in build. They secretly connected to each other from all countries, and with the help of many progressive Alphas who opposed slavery, organized revolts against the governments. Victory ensued, and a society of equality was slowly being built again. The progressive people hoped to rebuild the balance of the old societies, but the majority of Omegas in power, who feared that history could repeat itself, had another plan. They slaughtered Alphas in secret, even the ones that used to help them regain their freedom. And when the brutality meted out to the Alpha population could no longer go unnoticed, they continued their quest of complete decimation despite opposition and warnings from the forward-thinking. 

Only until there was no trace of the Alphas did these men stop their barbarity. But then they realized why the so-called forward-thinking were so scared of a future without any Alphas. 

The heat circles.

Both Alphas and Omegas needed care and reassurance from their mates during these times, and an Omega without the scent of an Alpha, just like an Alpha without that of an Omega, would turn into a berserk monster blinded by the instinctive and primal needs. Thousands of men were turned into such a state every month, as the governments were now desperate to find any Alphas that had been lucky enough to hide from their blade, as well as fund projects that could produce remedies to this instinctive desire. Some Alphas were found, hidden away by their Omega and Beta relatives who truly cared for their wellbeing, but these poor boys were vulnerable and subjected to serious health problems, and even death, as they had to care for too many men.

It took the Omegas various decades and millions of deaths of men who craved Alpha scent but could never have it to produce types of suppressants strong enough to prevent further painful deaths. Still, the Alpha scents are what men have always sought after, and since below 3% of the world population now are Alphas, only the wealthiest, most successful men can lay their hands on an Alpha.

Alphas are now treated like Omegas in the old societies, the pretty little things that offer men pleasure and help to show off their status, but obviously, the Omegas are not very proud of what they have done to reach this stage.

*****

“I’ve always thought you’re a Beta…” Ghost says, his voice surprisingly so much softer than usual as he looks at the trembling Alpha in the corner of the room.

“It was…thanks to the scent suppressants…” You stutter.

“Then you’ve hid it well, haven’t you?” The man with the skull mask asks. You hiccup helplessly as you can feel Ghost radiating his strong scent which quickly wraps around your burning body like a warm blanket.

Scotch. His scent smells like Scotch. It’s funny enough because it’s also the man’s favorite drink.

“What are you doing…?” You ask, curling up into a ball in the corner, looking like a weak, newborn wolf pup who has lost his pack, alone and vulnerable in the middle of the vicious wild.

“Helping you to hide your scent, idiot.” The man chuckles, which is even more strange. He kneels down beside you, his strong hands grabs your arm, forcing you to open up before him.

Your self-defense mechanism kicks in as you try to struggle against this unrivaled Omega, “Let me go! What do you want?”

“Shhh…” Ghost whispers to your ear. His eyes narrow as he loosens the collar of your white coat, revealing your swelling, reddened scent gland. The poor little thing is twitching constantly, which is a clear sign of the individual being in heat and desperately needing suppressants or their mates’ care and scent reassurance. 

“Let me mark you.”

“What???” You exclaim, unable to believe in your own ears what the man just says.

“I said, let me mark you.” Ghost patiently repeats, “As in I’ll bite your scent gland and inject my scent into you.”

“What??? No way!!” You protest and struggle again.

Ghost easily suppressed your weak attempt to get away with his strong hands and arms, “This is your only chance to get out of here safely, Doc. If I don’t mark you, your scent will reveal to every man here on this battlefield that you’re the rare Alpha that they’re supposed to have no opportunity to meet during their entire lifetime. You can imagine what happens after that, right? To them, you’re the delicious little prey that they wish to have at least a bite on. But, if you let me mark you, my scent will act like the natural suppressants, and you can go back to the base without fear of being found out and then take care of your heat later. What do you say, huh? Little Alpha?” 

Seeing that you’re still indecisive, Ghost lowers his head to your neck again, “Or if you like, I can help you to take care of your heat as well…”

“I don’t need your help with my heat!!” You exclaim, then try to stay calm despite your furiously blushing face, “F-fine…Mark me…”

To be continued...

New series lmao...Also my surgery was delayed :) There will be smut in this one, but rather with a darker theme because this is a dystopian society after all lmao 👍👍👍

#cod x male reader #ghost x male reader #male reader #top male reader #bottom simon riley #call of duty #gay #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #call of duty mw2 #mw2 x male reader #ghost x you #mw2 x you #simon riley x reader #omegaverse #abo #world-building #dystopia #historical fiction

[lizard-on-a-window-pane]

Of Lingerie and Sirius Play

coming back from hiatus, have been traveling; will be filling requests but starting with this that was tumbling around my horny head; i'll write sfw stuff soon; enjoyy

pairing: Sirius x reader

word count: 4.8k (smut, smut, and more smut)

tags / warnings: NSFW!! (MDNI!!), established relationship, lingerie, sex, fem! reader, oral (f receiving, face sitting), p in v, slight insecurities, body worship, very explicit but still tender hopefully 

You were staring at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that, second thoughts ebbing and flowing in your mind. You never wore things like this. Never. Sure, you had some bras and knickers that were more flattering than others, some that matched even. But nothing like this. 

You were worried that the strip of your thigh just above the stocking garters didn’t look nearly as good as it did on lingerie models. You followed the line of the straps that connected them to the garter belt with your eyes then lightly with your fingers. The belt was more flattering than the thigh-highs, the lace resting on your waste a bit more comfortably than on your thighs. You pulled the back of your bra down for the nth time in the last few minutes, trying and retrying everything you could to make sure the cloth clung to your body in the most flattering way possible. Your boobs had never looked better. You turned around (again) to look at your mostly uncovered arse, the bright colour of the thin line of lace contrasting against your skin. This you were less confident about than you front, but you were probably just being typically overly harsh with yourself. 

You wanted to surprise Sirius; no special occasion, you just wanted to do something special for him. He always made you feel so special — in bed and in general — and it gave you the desire (and the confidence) to try something like this. 

You’re still fiddling with the outfit when you hear noises in the living room. Sirius is home early. 

“Shit,” you startle, looking around the room for something to cover yourself with, debating whether it’d be faster or slower to take it off first. Sure, there wasn’t a specific occasion, but you were still planning to do something more special than just have him find you like this in the middle of the afternoon. Then, to your horror, the noises solidify into… voices. Sirius is home early, and he’s not alone.

You hear his voice growing louder, coming closer: “…’Course, mate. I think I left it in here; let me just grab it, and we can see  if — bloody fucking hell…” He’s standing at the bedroom door, eyes wide, mouth agape, its edges already quirking up at the corners a fraction of a second later. Not even shock is enough to keep his delighted smirk from forming automatically. You’re standing there in your new lingerie like a deer in headlights, frozen, your hands too conflicted about which part of yourself to attempt to cover to move to any part at all. Sirius, stock-still, just stares.

“What? Y’alright, Pads?” Now James’s voice is louder, too, and you can tell he’s just on the other side of Sirius. 

“Uhh,” Sirius startles, turning rapidly on his heels and pulling the door half closed next to him. “Sorry, Prongsy, change of plans.” You don’t quite make out James’s quick response. “Yeah, mate, I know, but the thing is, I’m about to fuck my girlfriend silly, so that’s going to have to wait because this could take a while.” He sounds so smug already, and in the back of your startled mind, you’re ruing how your surprise for him has him smug and you flustered even from its onset. You hear what sounds like “bloody hell” and something about “bloody rabbits” from the other side of the door, and a moment later, Sirius has turned his attention back on you, the door closed behind him, the flat silent. He’s leaning back on the door, taking you in, looking you shamelessly up and down where you stand planted to the floor shifting your weight nervously. “Hello, sweetheart.” It sounds almost normal. Almost. His voice is a good octave lower than usual. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin too, but that’s pretty normal. “What’s going on here then?” He pushes off the door. 

“Hi,” you say, sounding much shyer than you have with Sirius for years. You struggle to hold his gaze, your cheeks burning. “Um. Nothing —” “Nothing?” he challenges immediately. “Really?” a bit more gently, fake considering. He’s stepping achingly slowly toward you. He reaches your spot in the middle of the room and stops in front of you, his eyes roaming your body conspicuously. “Because this…” he begins,  and he lifts his hand slowly. Gently, he sticks his finger between your bra strap and your skin then runs it up and down a couple of times. “…doesn’t look like nothing.” He snaps the strap onto your skin. You start a bit at the sensation but still say nothing. You don’t know what to say, and your brain has stopped functioning. You’re completely overwhelmed, and you’re not even sure by which feeling.

Sirius caresses your cheek with the backs of his fingers. When you still don’t say anything after a few moments, his cheeky expression softens subtly, and he asks, “Y’alright, love?” “Yeah, I’m good. I just… You surprised me,” you say quietly. “I surprised you?” he asks incredulously, full cheek restored. “Funny. That’s not how it feels from my side of things.” You giggle awkwardly but warmly. “Did I forget my own birthday or something?” he jokes. You giggle again, most of the awkwardness melting quickly away. Sirius has a way of making that happen. “No, Siri,” you smile. “I just wanted to do something special for you,” you shrug. “Something fun,” you add. “Oh. Darling.” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, and he takes a step closer. “Darling, darling, darling,” he teases, his eyes roaming your body. He takes his time then looks at the mirror behind you. Biting his bottom lip, he huskily whispers, “Do a little spin for me, baby. Show me all of it?” Blushing, you nod shyly and turn all the way around slowly. Sirius groans appreciatively, and his hand instinctively goes to the already prominent bulge in his pants. 

“You like it?” you ask him, your voice small. His eyebrows go up in response. 

“Baby,” he says, closing the distance between you. “Why’re you all shy?” His hands come up on either side of your face, holding and caressing you. “Is it part of the fun?” he asks cheekily. “Because if it is, I’m game,” he chuckles lowly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.” His playful expression softens a bit as he continues, “But if you’re actually nervous…” He gently brings his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders then guides you toward the mirror, turning you around, standing close behind you. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and caresses your arms up and down where they rest at your sides. He pecks your cheek then looks back toward the mirror. “Do you like it?”

“I…” You look yourself up and down, biting your bottom lip as you consider. “I think so.” 

“Hm,” he hums by your ear then gives it a nip that sends shivers down your spine. He sees your eyes close and smirks at the effect he has on you, but he says, “Open your eyes, baby.” You do. “You, my love, are a fucking sight to behold. I pity the rest of the world for not getting to see you like this, to see what I see. But you do, right? You see how bloody gorgeous you are? So fucking sexy…” His arms come more tightly around you, and he plants a sloppy openmouthed kiss on your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point, where the vibrations of his chuckle pulse through you. “Sirius…” you whisper, leaning back into him. His wet lips smile against you. 

“Let’s play a game,” he suggests, all mischief. You giggle softly, biting your lip and quirking your eyebrow. “What kind of game?” “The kind that’s going to end with you writhing in pleasure on that bed right there.” “Sounds fun…” “Oh, it’ll be fun, sweetheart. So much fun.” He takes a step back from you, and you immediately miss his warmth. You go to turn to him, but he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and a low  “uh-uh.” His chin jutting out toward the mirror, he says, “Look at yourself.” You squint suspiciously at him, making him chuckle, but then turn toward the mirror. You meet his eyes through the mirror and raise your eyebrows in challenge, soliciting his instructions. He asks you, “Which part of yourself do you like the most right now?” “Sirius —” you go to protest, but he stops you immediately, talking over you and coming closer again. “Because if I looked as good as you do right now, I’d definitely be turning myself on,” he jokes. You roll your eyes but keep smiling. “So? Which part?” 

“Which part do you like?” 

“Uh-uh. Not the game. Answer me.” 

You glare at him but answer, “… My tits.”

“Mmm. Good choice, gorgeous.” His arms wrapping around you from behind, his hands come up to your breasts. “These glorious tits?” He gropes them roughly, and you moan, your head falling back onto his shoulder. The gentle kiss he gives your hairline contrasts with the forceful kneading of your breasts.  “C’mere.” 

He drags you unceremoniously toward the bed, sits on its edge, and pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you can feel his hardness underneath you. His eyes level with — and glued to — your chest in this position, he says, “Perfect.” You don’t know if he means the position or your chest, but when he abruptly pulls one of the thin cups down and latches on to you, it doesn’t matter. He’s groaning as he sucks harshly on your nipple. When it’s completely pert, he moves his attention to the rest of your breast, biting, sucking, and licking everywhere, before returning his mouth to your hard bud to play with it again. After repeating this a couple times, he loudly pops off and moves his head between your breasts. Squeezing each in his calloused hands, he buries himself in your chest and gives a deep, loud groan. Then, looking up at you from between them, he tells you, “You taste as delicious as you look, you know? And I’m only just getting started.” He licks a stripe between your tits and across your sternum. 

He pulls back a tiny bit and just stares at your breasts, licking his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between them. With surprising gentleness, he fixes the crumpled bra cup so that it sits right on your breast again. Your hard, moist nipple is perfectly clear underneath the very thin, almost transparent material. He wraps his lips around it over the material, sucking harshly and running his tongue around and around. He gives it a little bite before leaning back again. “Much better,” he muses at his work. The bra is wet with his saliva, making it even more prominent where your nipple is poking through. He moves to play with your other breast until it looks the same and both are aching and sensitive. You shiver when the cool air hits you. “How do they feel?” he asks, his rough hands kneading them again. “Good,” you respond, raspy. 

“How good? I’m glad to keep going.” 

You’re not exactly sure what he means but just answer truthfully, “They feel incredible.” “Good. Because they fucking look incredible.” His hands still on them, squeezing, he bites one where it bulges above the cup, and you whimper. His hands then caress your body and move to rest on your arse, squeezing there. “Now. What other part do you like?” You’d already forgotten his game, but play along immediately, eager for his mouth to be back on you. “Umm…” You look down at yourself. You’re not sure if it’s the sitting position or the way Sirius is making you feel, but the garters on your thighs, resting either side of him, look better than they did during your nervous examination. 

You’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, looking down at yourself but not answering him when he prompts, “Don’t be nervous, doll. There’s no wrong answer; I mean, fuck, just look at you.” He gives your arse a little jiggle. 

“My thighs,” you tell him, and his hands squeeze their way down from your arse to your thighs where he kneads them.

“Good girl,” he praises. His fingers trace across the garters’ fabric then he sticks them in and tugs, snapping it back onto your skin. It elicits a little pain but a lot of pleasure, and you grind your hips down onto his. He bucks up into you in response, grinding back, his hands gripping your hips and his hard cock giving your soaked center delicious friction. “Fuck,” he comments, his head rolling back. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get to that.” He juts up once more in punctuation. “But first, let me show you how much I love your thighs… show you how right your are to love them too.” He leans in for a lingering kiss then, before his lips have parted from yours, tosses you sideways onto the bed. You laugh together. 

You shuffle back on your elbows scooting further up on the bed, but as you try to settle in, Sirius yanks you back down by the ankles. 

“Sorry, sweets,” he says, voice syrupy and cheeky. “That’s my spot.” 

He tugs his shirt off then crawls over you slowly, kissing and licking all the way up your body as he does, until he settles onto the center of the bed, his head comfortably near the headboard, his hands coming up behind his head. He quirks his eyebrow at you from where he’s lounging, looking you up and down. “You coming?” You make your way onto him, straddling his hips, but you don’t manage to sit back before he’s moving you. His hands are pulling you further up, his own body shuffling down with the same pull. 

“What are you doing?” There’s slight panic in your voice, guessing where this is going. Guessing correctly, in fact, as he nonchalantly responds, “Sit on my face.” 

You tense and resist his manipulations of your body.  

“Siri… I… Why don’t we switch?” With you sitting almost on his chest at this point, he sits up onto his elbows, looking up at you. 

“Because. I want you to suffocate me with your thighs.” He bites his bottom lip hungrily as he looks at them, spread across his chest. “And,” he rasps, his hands caressing your knees comfortingly, “Because I think you’ll like it…” You’re worried you’ll actually suffocate him, as ridiculous as it seems, and he knows. “Baby… Hey, look at me.” You do. “I want it, yeah? A lot, actually. And if it’s uncomfortable — for either of us — we’ll just tell each other. Yeah?” His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles on the insides of your knees through the thin fabric of your stockings. “We don’t have to try if you don’t want to.” He means it; you know. “But I think it could be great…”

You are curious, have been for a while. And you trust him completely. So, with your bottom lip nervously between your teeth, and your eyes glued to where your hands are fiddling with each other, you nod. 

“Yeah?” he enthuses, giddy. “Yeah,” you whisper. He pushes up so that he’s fully sitting up with you in his lap, and he wraps his arms around you. He kisses you ardently, holding you close. His lips are soft and wet against yours, his tongue hot and firm where it plays with yours. 

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back slightly. Scanning your face, he asks, “Ready?” You nod again, more certain this time. “Brilliant,” he says, with the same look on his face he had as a second-year sneaking into Honeydukes for the first time. He dramatically plops back down onto his back, and he gestures you forward with his index finger. Covering your face with your hands, you groan nervously. You take a deep breath and scoot forward.

“That’s my girl,” he encourages. And when you cage his face between your legs, he adds, “My sexy —” he gives a loving bite to the inside of your thigh, “sexy,” he bites the other one, his face grazing your cunt as he switches between them, “girl.” You grab onto the headboard to help hold yourself up and stable. His hands caress the outsides of your thighs as he keeps nipping at the insides of them. He bites around where the lace circles them and licks at your bikini line. You shiver at the feeling of his tongue on such sensitive skin, so close to your core, and you feel him chuckle there. 

“Shut up,” you tell him shyly. You tighten your thighs a bit in playful punishment, and rather than act reprimanded, he barks into full laughter. 

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, love. You’re giving me exactly what I want,” he laughs. He slaps your arse, and you yelp. 

“You’re going to make me lose my balance!” You complain. “Good! I want you all over me.” “I am all over you.” “I know. I fucking love it.” His voice is muffled by your body, even more so when he nuzzles into your cunt, chuckling all the while. “This is very pretty,” he says, playing with the thin string of your skimpy knickers. “But it’s in the way.” He pulls it to the side. “And what’s underneath is much, much prettier.” He licks a wet stripe from as far down to as far up as his mouth will reach.

“Fuck, Siri, fuck,” you chant as he does it again and again. You start losing yourself in it, grinding your hips onto his tongue. It’s electric and incredible. And wet.

“Fuck, you’re dripping, darling. You’re not going to suffocate me; you’re going to drown me,” he laughs. You’re mortified. You tense immediately and try to pull off of him, but he pulls you back down with impressive ease. “Baby, baby, baby; wait,” spills quickly out of his glistening mouth. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s great; I’m great; I love it,” he tries to reassure, holding you in place.

“It’s embarrassing,” you say to between your legs. 

“Why? Do you think I should be embarrassed that I’m so fucking hard right now? Because of you, by the way.” “No…” “Exactly. It’s hot. And…” He gives you a good lick. “Fucking delicious.” 

He sucks on your lower lips, and you moan. He sucks on your clit, and your moan mutates into a full yell. 

It’s never felt so good before… And your level of control helps you guide the pressure perfectly… And Sirius seems genuinely thrilled…

You take a deep breath and lift up off of him a bit. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his gorgeous gray eyes flooding with disappointed concern. 

“Nothing,” you respond calmly, contemplating him. “Siri…”  “Yeah?”

“You like it?” His eyebrows furrow, wondering if this is some kind of trick question given there’s only one obvious answer. He gives it: “I love it.”

“And you’re comfortable?” 

“More like ecstatic, but yes.” He’s still squinting confusedly at you, but he’s grinning now. “Okay.” 

“Okay…?”

“Yeah, okay,” you give a nervous giggle. “Just tell me if it’s too much.” 

“‘Course.”

You start putting your weight back down on him but pull up at the last second and add, “You promise?” 

“Yes, baby, I promise. Now get back here.” He pulls you back down, immediately attaching his mouth to you. The pleasure shoots from where you connect through your entire body, and rather than be self-conscious, you follow the impulse and grind down.  Sirius groans throatily and doubles his efforts. You follow his mouth with your hips. Your hands are clenching the headboard, but you allow your weight to mostly rest on him, ignoring your inhibitions and chasing your pleasure. 

You build up together, Sirius adept at knowing when to be rhythmically  repetitive and when to switch things up, you using your leverage to guide the pace and pressure. Mere minutes later, you’re a moaning mess and Sirius’s groaning is constant and loud. Your legs buckle from the strain and the pleasure, and Sirius tightens his grip on your thighs and hips to hold you up. Sensing your weakening legs and growing pleasure, he picks up his pace abruptly, and equally quickly, you release onto his face with a piercing scream. 

Your whole body goes limp, but he does his best to hold you in place as he keeps moving his mouth on you, your shivers still shooting through you, your whimpers still music to his ears. 

A long, lingering moment later, you manage to swing one of your legs over and collapse next to him. Your breathing is laboured and loud. Next to you, Sirius looks blissful, looks like he’s the one who just came. The entire bottom half of his face is soaked in you. 

“Oh my god,” you observe, smiling, reaching over to wipe some of it off. He snatches your wrist and stops you. “I’m quite proud of this,” he informs you, looking down goofily and licking his lips. He pulls you by your wrist so you’re lying mostly on top of him. “You want a taste?” he jokes, face to face with you, jutting his chin toward you. You giggle and lick his lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth and sucks on it then molds his lips to yours and kisses you deeply. “Told you you were delicious,” he whispers. His hands caress your back; his nose nudges yours. Softly, he asks, “Did you like it, love?” 

Sirius is cocky. In bed, Sirius is very cocky. And yet, his questions is genuine. There’s no hint of “I told you so,” only “How was it for you? Are you alright?”

“It was insane, baby. Thank you,” you whisper back. He scoffs lightheartedly. 

“Thank you. For trusting me, for letting go.” He pecks your lips. “Fuck, it was so hot when you just let go.” Now you kiss him.

Your lips still lingering against his, you suggestively whisper, “Is the game over?” He chuckles brightly and shakes his head. “What other part do you like?” He kisses you. “Hmmm…” You act contemplative. “Oh, I know what I like.” You bite his bottom lip then release it with a lewd pop. “I know what I like a lot.” “Tell me.” He’s grinning adoringly up at you, but his pupils are completely blown, and his voice is low and raspy.

“Your cock.” You grind down onto him, and his groan is inadvertent and animalistic. 

“That’s not how this works,” he jokes, but his voice is as strained as his trousers. 

“It is now.” “Okay,” he gives immediately and lunges up to clash your lips together again. You chuckle into his kiss and reach down between you to undo his trousers. He helps you, never breaking the kiss, until his hard cock is free. You grab him and guide him to your still wet entrance, sinking down onto him. 

“Holy fuck,” he groans, and his hands bruisingly grip your hips. He lets you control the  pace, but you can tell by his grip, his expression, his breathing that it is taking all his self-control. You go fast, and when he bottoms out, his head plops back onto the pillow in tight bliss. “You feel so good. How do you feel so good?” He bucks up into you. 

You sit up, putting your hands on his chest, and clench as tightly as you can. Sirius’s eyes roll back in his head, and he whimpers. Slowly, deliciously, you pull your hips up until only his tip remains inside you then slide back down equally steadily. His fingers tense, and he bites his bottom lip hard. You do it again. His eyes squeeze shut. “You don’t want to look at me?” You tease. “After I dressed up for you?” 

“Baby…” He meets your eyes then looks at your chest then at where you’re connected. “You’re going to kill me,” he chuckles huskily. “I could cum just by looking at you.” One of his hands comes up to harshly hold your breast. You lift up and down and up and down, quickly and roughly now, your nails digging into his chest. “Mmmphhh, fuuuck,” he gasps. He moves his hand to grip the bit of your bra between your tits, making it move even more as you go up and down. He’s staring, transfixed, at your chest, as he pleads, “Yeah, baby, make ‘em bounce like that, fuck.” You oblige. 

You’re enjoying it thoroughly, both the sensations and the teasing, but your legs are already feeling like jelly after your previous activity. You sit still and look down at him. 

“Siri…” 

“Mm?” he grunts. 

His lidded eyes staring straight into yours, you grind your hips and ask him, “Fuck me?”

He sits up like a lightning bolt, more devouring than kissing you, and with a tight grip on your waist, he flips you over. He spreads your thighs roughly and plunges right back into you. 

His pace is immediately rough and desperate. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, and cling to him as he pounds in and out of you. The headboard starts banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts, and the sound muffles your concurrent yelping.

You think he’s going to keep going until he cums, especially given it can’t be long with how hard he’s going, but after a stutter of his hips, you feel him suddenly halt. He’s panting into the crook of your neck, and he bites down onto your shoulder to calm himself for a moment. He pulls back and stares into your eyes. He gives you a quick kiss then moves up, pulling out, till he’s kneeling above you, his naked chest still rising and falling heavily, his mouth open, his eyes black and piercing, his hair a gorgeous mess. 

One of his hands grabs his cock, and the other slaps your thigh.

“Turn around,” he demands. You do, and you raise your hips. “Haven’t appreciated this side enough,” he chuckles breathily. He slaps your arse then gently traces the lace first of the belt, then of the garters, and finally of your wrecked knickers. He pulls it aside again and sticks his cock inside you, languidly pushing all the way in.

He’s still. The fronts of his thighs are flush with the backs of yours; his hands are exploring your back, your arse, your thighs. He gives a haughty chuckle. 

“Baby,” — he snaps your knickers onto your skin — “you’ve no idea how hot you look. This view is killer.” You wiggle your arse on him, and he laughs his full laugh, squeezing your cheeks in his eager hands. “Keep doing that,” he urges. When you do, he slaps your arse a couple more times. His chuckles turn to groans at a particularly harsh grind from you, and you squeeze your cunt around him to draw it out. “Fuuck.” He snaps his hips. The drag of his cock feels incredible at this angle. 

Having started, he doesn’t stop, quickly setting a brutal pace. “‘M not gonna last, love,” he confesses. “‘S too good.” He sounds completely spent, but the movements of his body are as fast and forceful as ever. “Touch yourself,” he urges. “Please cum on my cock, baby,” he pleads, his words more of an exhale by the end. 

He thrusts even harder but a bit slower, allowing you to snake your hand under yourself. You immediately start rubbing your clit roughly. 

“Fuuu — I’m gonna, fuck, fuck; I can feel you’re right there; you’re right there; that’s it, fuck; cum with me, baby.”

He starts cumming before you can get there, but the feel of it has you immediately releasing with him. Your tightening walls draw out his cum and extend his orgasm. You look behind you, and Sirius is completely blissed out. His hands are on you; his hips are making their best attempt at thrusting, but his mouth hangs open, low whimpers emanating from it. You push your hips back and forth onto him, helping him finish his climax and enjoying the end of yours, and after a few more languid thrusts, you both collapse flat on the bed. Sirius is half on top of you, his chest on your back, his arm snaked around your waist, his mouth playing lazily on your shoulder. He chuckles there. 

You turn to him, your faces close, your grins matching.

“So you like the surprise?” you ask.

“I love the surprise,” he responds, equal parts cheek and affection. “And I love you. So fucking much.” He leans in for a quick, adoring kiss. “You? you like it?” He runs his hands over the lingerie softly as he asks. You nod gently but certainly and hum affirmatively. “Good. You’re so beautiful, baby.” He kisses you again. “Wear whatever you want, and you’ll have me pining like a puppy.”  You giggle and kiss his nose. “Love you, pup.” He gives his barking laugh. “Love you, too.”

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader #marauders smut #hp #smut #established relationship #lingerie #james potter #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #why do i write 5k words of smut like it's 500

[wooahaes]

the aftermath of trick-or-treating

pairing: non-idol!jeonghan x gn!reader

genre: fluff. single dad!jeonghan au.

word count: 0.7k~

warnings: candy mention. slightly suggestive comments from jeonghan that lead nowhere (he's just here to tease a little hehe). single dad jeonghan (bc hes. cute :( <3)

daisy's notes: @twogyuu hi holly

The sound of tiny feet running around your home was enough to tell you that Jeonghan had finished trick-or-treating with his daughter. And if that hadn’t been enough to clue you in, the weight of your soon-to-be step-daughter throwing herself into your lap definitely was.

Jeonghan had chuckled to himself as he made his way inside, carrying that neon orange plastic pumpkin in one hand and his daugther’s coat in the other, a bag hanging off of his shoulder. “Ha-eun,” he called out, “be careful with the pumpkin hat.”

(You didn’t fail to notice that Jeonghan donned a pair of kitty ears—Ha-eun could get her way with puppy dog eyes any day.)

She merely let out a giggle, hugging you tight, her squishy pumpkin costume folding around her. She’d peeked up to your TV, noticing the frozen still on the screen. “What are you watching?”

“Nothing, baby,” you pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Scary things for adults. Can I see your pretty costume?”

With a gasp, she began to beam at the idea of showing off the costume Jeonghan had bought her. She hopped up, slowly turning around to show off the soft orange dress with little details to make it obvious it was a pumpkin—lines down it and leaves around the neckline. Jeonghan had painted her face to look like a jack-o-lantern, too. Jeonghan had told you that she picked it out herself after a long bout of deliberation at the store. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted to be a princess, a pumpkin, or a skeleton this year. He’d tried to suggest that she could be all three if she went to Uncle Cheollie and gave him her puppy dog eyes, but she’d merely giggled and decided she would be a pumpkin because she’s always a princess (as told to her by Uncle Shua).

“How cute,” you mused aloud, smiling to yourself. Jeonghan had made his way over, settling into the spot next to you. 

He called out to her, picking up the tiny backpack that clearly belonged to her, “Why don’t you get changed? I’ll come help you wash off the paint and we can watch Halloween movies together.”

Ha-eun was strikingly mature for her age, and agreed easily due to the promise of movies (and snacks—she knew snacks would always be included in that promise). She ran off to get changed in your bedroom, the door shutting a moment later, and Jeonghan immediately turned to steal a kiss from you.

“I nearly took her to Joshua’s for tonight,” he mumbled. “I’ll just have to give you your treat later—”

Only for you to laugh, smacking at his arm. The two of you had agreed on this weeks ago: there was no way he was going to change his mind and deny Ha-eun of her movie night with her second favorite person in the world (... don’t tell Cheol or Shua that, though, Jeonghan had told you immediately after he spilled that little bit of information to you. Or Seungkwan, for that matter.), especially after you already made snacks. Jeonghan pulled away after pressing a second peck against your lips, pulling out a piece of candy from his pocket and pressing it into your hand.

“Ha-eun doesn’t like this kind,” he said, winking at you. “I stole it from the bucket when she wasn’t looking.” 

She’d never know it was missing either way, but you liked the way Jeonghan smiled at you like he was getting away with something. He got up to put the popcorn in the microwave, fetching the snacks you had made as you jot down the timestamp in the horror movie you’d been watching before changing it to something more family-friendly. Maybe you would forego the timestamp entirely and watch the movie with Jeonghan after you put Ha-eun to bed for the night. You heard the sound of his daughter coming back out of your room, calling out to her dad that she was ready to wash the facepaint off. All too soon, she had settled between the two of you again for movies.

And just as soon, she’d fallen asleep on top of you, exhausted from the exciting day. Jeonghan merely took the opportunity to lean over, smiling into the kiss he stole from you, all with the taste of candy on your lips.

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @staranghae @synthetickitsune @weird-bookworm

#wooahaes.fall23 #wooahaes.fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagine #svt x reader #svt imagine #seventeen x you #svt x you #jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan x y/n #yoon jeonghan fluff

[azullumi]

ayato, diluc, childe + alhaitham — playing horror games ☆彡

summary — you invited him to play a horror game with you to which he accepted. now, what will your experience with him will be?

characters — ayato, diluc, childe + alhaitham (w/ gender neutral reader)

tags — fluff, modern, multiple mentions of the word "game"; headcanons

word count — 1225

a/n — i hate the amount of times i used the word game because i couldn't find another word for it. nevertheless, enjoy!

KAMISATO AYATO

Apparently, there was a new game released and it captured the hearts of horror-games enthusiasts and you wanted to try it out, however, the game is hard to clear on your own so you had invited Ayato.

A horror game? Sure, he doesn't mind. He has played a few ones with his sister and Thoma before and it's been a long time since the last time he went through one. 

At first, he's interested and curious but then when he starts playing, there's just confusion. He's just confused, not in a confused type wherein he doesn’t know what to do throughout the game but the type wherein he doesn’t know what is happening and is unaware of the events of the game. Are horror games really like this? As far as he can remember, these are supposed to be much scarier and frightening.

“Oh… Was that a jumpscare?”

He’s bored not until he witnessed your reactions so instead of focusing more on the game, his attention and eyes are all on you. He wants to see more of it so he purposely fails some parts of the game so you two could restart and have to go through it all again. Witnessing the change in your expressions and seeing the way you react is honestly so entertaining for him. Mans out here living the best life while you’re suffering.

Eventually, you’ll notice it. How he intentionally fails and suddenly becomes a bad player once you two get through the extreme parts. It took you quite some time to see through his tricks as you weren’t thinking much about it, however, he doesn’t admit it easily and will probably never do so.

“Are you trying to lose on purpose?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking abou— Ah, I died again. Looks like we’ll have to restart.”

DILUC RAGNVINDR

It doesn't take much persuading just to get him to play a game— a horror one to be exact— with you. He doesn’t mind it anyways and it’s not like he’s the type to get scared easily. It’s just some simple game with some scary components embedded in it.

At first, it was dead silence. You don’t know if he’s scared or just focused on clearing the game. However, the answer was the latter as he is unfazed by the jumpscares of the game and was more focused on the objectives. While you’re out there getting startled at every noise, whether loud or not, he’s focused on solving the puzzles and determining how to attain victory.

He guides you on what to do and even encourages you so that you won’t be scared. He doesn’t leave you behind and if ever you die at some part and you two have to restart, he’ll just say it’s okay and you two won’t have a hard time playing through it as you already know what you’re supposed to do. He’s honestly so sweet and gentle while playing and it just eases your mind knowing that you can rely on him.

“Are you scared? Come closer.”

“It’s okay, you can do this.”

He’ll let you lean on him though or hide yourself behind him. You’ll often block your point of view by using his arms as a cover whenever you feel like something scary will pop up on your screen and he will just let you be, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. He knows this isn’t the time for that but he just can’t help but think how adorable you are when you’re scared.

“You can open your eyes now, there’s no more jumpscare.”

Truly a reliable teammate.

CHILDE

He's the chatty type of person while playing, would often say remarks filled with confidence and would reassure you that you just have to follow him from behind and he can finish the game in no time. He's so confident and sure of himself that when you two started playing, you were relaxed because of the things he had said. God, you wish you didn't believe him.

He's the type to treat the game like it's some sort of comedy show and would laugh at certain elements of the game that are supposed to be scary. He makes fun of the “ghosts” and would challenge them to scare him. However, once he really gets to the jumpscare and intense parts, he becomes silent.

Then he goes back to being the normal chatty person that he is. He doesn't want to admit the fact that he is scared, especially after all that talk he did. He’ll convince you that he isn’t frightened at all and would attempt to regain his composure. It’s honestly cute how he tries his best to look strong and reliable.

You can’t help but tease him while playing, saying things that will scare him. Poke him for a bit and he suddenly jumps startled which also scares you.

"Archons above, (Name)! You just can't do that!"

"I just poked you."

After finishing the game, he'll just laugh and say, "that's all?" before asking you to watch a movie with him next. However, you shook your head and showed him the next game that you two are going to play and unfortunately for him, it’s a horror one again and it was a continuation of the previous one. He doesn’t have any choice but to play it with you.

“Don’t worry, if you’re too scared, you can cling to me.”

“Shut up.”

ALHAITHAM

He doesn't see the sense of even willingly playing horror games despite the fact that you'll just get scared, nevertheless, he still plays with you because why not. It’s not like he’ll die if he did. Maybe he'll end up seeing something interesting or maybe he just wants to see how you’ll react.

He’s the type to tease you by suddenly scaring you in tense and terrifying parts of the game then pretends that he didn’t do anything. At these times, the thought of how Alhaitham can be a little shit goes through your head and if you weren’t that scared right now and not leaning on him and using him as some sort of cover, you would have smacked him right on the head.

He’s expressionless, he’s unaffected by the horror factors of the game and would just continue on like nothing happened.

“It’s not that scary, (Name). It’s just a mannequin.”

“Look, there’s nothing terrifying here. It’s just the wind.”

You don’t know if you should be thankful for his comments because it was helping you to replace your fear with irritation. However, you can’t get mad at him because Alhaitham… Alhaitham was extremely helpful in clearing the game especially on the hardest parts and would tell you what you should do to avoid having to restart. Sometimes, he’ll throw in some words of encouragement here and there to further encourage you.

Despite the small yet constant bickerings and teasings, it didn’t take you long to finish the game. He thinks it was boring but if you were going to invite him to another one, he won't complain nor even hesitate in joining you. 

“Let’s play another one.”

“Aren’t you scared already from the one we just played?”

He still doesn’t understand how you still want to play these games knowing the fact that you’ll just be frightened the whole time you’re playing though.

— navigation | masterlist

#ayato x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin fluff #genshin headcanons #alhaitham #childe #tartaglia x reader #genshin ayato #kamisato ayato #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnivindr #childe headcanons #ayato headcanons #alhaitham headcanons #azul.writes

[hogwartsandhawkins]

Prove Me Wrong

Chapter 13: The 13th

If you need to catchup, here's the masterlist.

Summary: Watching a horror movie with Billy goes better than expected

Warnings: Cursing, Slight angst for a millisecond, Mentions of blood and gore (from the movie they watch), mentions of death (again from the movie). As always let me know if I missed something.

Word Count:4k

Author's note: Sorry this post came late loves! My son got sick so that was fun to take care of. But good news, because I slacked you guys get two chapters this weekend 🤗

Also, as someone who also isn't a big horror fan, I watched this movie as homework and surprisingly, completely straight-faced this entire movie. Guess Billy's right, it was kind of cheesy 😂

Billy climbed his way to Jess’s bedroom with ease this time. With the knowledge that Jess’s parents were not directly below her, he took less care about whether or not he was silent and instead jumped quickly from the trash can to the last quoins, lifting himself over the gutters where he found himself once again in front of her draped covered window. He tapped the glass lightly and was immediately met by a still annoyed Jess opening the pane and quickly walking away. She was now wearing a faded cheer sweatshirt and a pair of cloth shorts. He looked over at the sickly green atrocity that held her TV just above her bed level, the VHS sitting on top of it. Her bed was littered with snacks, some from the store and some that she seemed to have provided herself, Billy taking note of the stack of brownies, which he hoped were as good as last time he snuck into her room. 

She seemed to be pacing before he got there and was continuing to do so as he arrived. “Please tell me you’re not serious about wanting to be here for Christmas.” 

“Doesn’t really look like that’s up to me. What? You don’t want me over? Where’s your holiday spirit, princess?” Before he knew it, a Charleston Chew bar hit him in the chest. 

“For once, be serious. Steve is gonna be there. And I don’t want to deal with the two of you bickering like an old married couple.” 

Billy picked up the candy bar and tossed it back on the bed, grinning to himself. “I’ll behave if he does.” 

Jess stopped pacing and turned to him. “Right, because he’s the one I should be worried about.” Jess recalled earlier today how Billy purposefully blew smoke in Steve’s face right before successfully irritating Steve with the thought of him spending all winter break with her. 

Billy walked over to the side of the bed he usually sat on and pushed the assortment of food to the other side and sat down, kicking off his shoes as he did so. He sucked in his cheek and bit down, contorting his mouth in a downward smirk. “Don’t gotta worry about me, sweetheart. I’ll be an absolute angel. Call it an early Christmas gift.” 

Jess considered his promise for a moment, her eyes traveling from his smile to his eyes, which gave off a hint of playfulness but no level of insincerity. “I always have to worry about you,” she huffed before settling down on the opposite side of the bed, pushing snacks closer to Billy. 

“That’s cute of you,” Billy teased before eyeing the cans of beer that were at the foot of her bed. He leaned forward and grabbed the pack, twisting a can out of the plastic ring that held it secure to the other five. He swiftly cracked it open and took a swig from it, earning him another annoyed glance from Jess. “What? You want one, Logan?” 

“Absolutely not.”

“Why? You’re cute when you’re drunk.” 

The mention of her being intoxicated began to stir the memories from that last weekend, how she spent the majority of her night with Billy, and how that night ended. She began to feel light-headed from the memory of how close she stood to him towards the end of that song, how she was practically leaning against him for support. She was brought back to reality by the bed shifting, Billy placing the remaining five cans underneath her bed. “Let’s get this show on the road, princess. Not tryna keep you up all night…” 

Jess shoved him, making his beer slosh. 

“Aye watch it…” 

She made her way toward her TV, taking her time to put the VHS in, not in a hurry to start hiding under her covers the whole time. She looked over the cover, “Friday the 13th, The Final Chapter…” Jess scoffed, placing the tape in the player. “Billy, I swear if this is as bad as the first one-“ She was quickly cut off by the tape being played where it was last on, causing Jess to jump at the sight of Jason killing the hitchhiker on the side of the road. 

“Oohhh shit!” Billy laughed out, taking another sip of his beer before swinging his legs off the bed and quickly making his way to where Jess was standing. He watched her close her eyes, turning away from the TV as the ominous music played. “Go back to the bed, princess, I got it.” He squatted down, pressing the rewind button on the VCR as he stared down the TV, waiting til he heard a click, indicating it was done. 

He turned back around to find Jess already underneath her blanket, the top of it bunched up by her mouth with her hands. He smirked down at her, able to see her eyes squint up at him in irritation. “Don’t worry, it’s honestly not that bad. I chose the cheesiest one of the two. Promise.” He chuckled as he made his way to her light switch, flipping it off, and began to sit back down on his side of the bed, deciding to take a brownie as adjusted himself back against the headboard. 

Jess’s glare softened as he joined her on the bed. “You’ve seen this before?” Billy only nodded, turning his head to the side to look over at her, smiling for a moment before looking back over at the screen. 

They stayed that way as the movie started, Jess bunching the blanket over her face, Billy smiling to himself as he continued to look over at her, sipping his beer contently. Billy felt the blanket shift suddenly, suggesting to him that the sight of Jason’s hand falling free from the stretcher startled her. He bit down into his brownie and smirked to himself, swallowed, and then turned to look back at her once more. “If it makes you feel better, Logan, we’re not out camping right now so it can’t happen to us.”

“Yeah. Great. Thanks.”

Billy chuckled out loud, looking down at the load of snacks that separated the two of them, silently cursing the barrier as he sat up straighter. He picked up the Charleston Chew that was thrown at him and tossed it on her lap. 

“Eat a candy bar, you’ll feel better.” 

Jess smiled lightly, grabbing the bar from her lap and slowly unwrapping it, not taking her eyes off the screen, lifting her knees to her chest. Billy continued to look from the snacks to her, watching the way the shifting lights from the screen illuminated her features, the way she cautiously bit into her snack, pausing with it still in her mouth when she was preparing for something that could possibly scare her. He continued to smile to himself as he noticed the way she squinted her left eye more than her right when she braced for oncoming jump scares and the way she slowly began to relax more throughout the movie. When they watched the hitchhiker get stabbed for the second time that night, Billy finally summoned the courage to start moving the snacks. 

The rustling of the wrappers being moved made Jess finally remove her eyes from the screen and look over at the cause of the noise. He moved the bags of chips to the nightstand closest to him, along with the baked goods, seeing as he was the only one eating those, leaving the assorted candy bars where they were for Jess. 

“What’re you doin’?” 

“Making more room.” Billy shrugged as he coolly answered. He then playfully tossed the rest of the candy onto her lap when she didn’t make a move to remove them from the middle of the bed. “Think those belong to you.”

“Yeah, so did those-” She was now pointing at the Doritos that Billy had already moved, but then quickly shifted back her attention toward the TV when she heard a twig snap. “Oh, don’t walk alone…” 

“Don’t worry, she doesn’t die. Yet.”

“Billy…” He only laughed in response but stopped immediately when she looked more annoyed than scared. 

“Hey, I’m just kidding.” He scooted inches closer to her, the snacks no longer blocking his way. When she didn’t say anything in response, he offered, “You want me to turn it off?” He continued to look down at her, his tone was serious and softer than it had been tonight, which caused Jess to look up at him. 

She furrowed her eyebrows at the sight of him and then began to shake her head. “No…” She then looked back at the TV for only a moment, “I guess you’re right, it’s not as bad as I thought it was gonna be.” When she turned to face him again, she noticed the smirk he was now giving her and rolled her eyes. 

“See what happens when you try new things, Logan?”

“It’s still bad,” she rebutted. “And by the way. I do watch horror movies. I just don’t like them.”

“Whatever you say, gorgeous.” He then reached for the Dorito bag that he placed on top of the nightstand and moved it to the opposite side of Jess, where it wasn’t separating the two of them, making it a point to reach behind her as he did so. When the chips were secured next to her, he allowed his hand to linger longer than needed before resting his arm above the pillow she was leaning against. He cracked his knuckles nervously, his arm tensing up every time Jess shifted. 

Get it together, Hargrove. He cursed himself, attempting to look down at her without her noticing, but she was too busy noticing the way her body burned at the close proximity to his, attempting to free herself from the blanket without making it too obvious it was now causing her to overheat. When she could have sworn she was beginning to sweat, she jumped up suddenly. 

“Bathroom…” was all she said, assuming the word would explain itself. 

Billy sucked in before clearing his throat. “You want me to pause it?”

“God no,” she laughed out, exiting the room before the TV became too bright and he was able to see the strong blush that she knew currently covered her entire face. Billy chugged what remained of his now warm beer once Jess was clear of the room, hoping maybe it would loosen him up slightly. But unfortunately, he knew it would take a lot more than one beer to do that, and he would definitely like to stay sober while he was with her, at least in her bedroom. 

When he heard footsteps reappear in the hallway, a mischievous grin appeared on his face as he got up from the bed and walked to the door just as she opened it, grabbing her hips as he scared her, believing all she would do was jump. When she let out a loud, short scream, however, he quickly widened his eyes and placed his hand over her mouth, chuckling quietly.

“Shit, Logan.”

Jess smacked his chest, causing Billy slowly to take his hand off of her face. 

“Dammit, Billy, if my parents heard me…” She was answered by the sound of a door creaking open and the shuffle of footsteps. She pushed Billy further into her room as she stepped back into the hallway and found Stan at the bottom of the stairs. 

“You okay, kid?” 

“Uh. Yeah. Just watching some stupid scary movie. Sorry.” She looked back into her bedroom for only a moment, but enough to see Billy’s smirk growing on his face. 

Stan Logan gave her a strained look, but then shrugged his shoulders and turned away from the stairs, “Keep it down next time kid, it’s the middle of the night.” 

“Sorry,” she then turned to look back at Billy before she continued, “It won’t happen again.” 

She made it back into her room and shut the door behind her, refusing to break eye contact. “You absolute asshole!” she hissed, picking up another uneaten candy bar and chucking it at him, which he easily swatted away as he laughed, attempting to be quieter. 

“How was I supposed to know you’d scream like that?” 

“It’s like you want to get me into trouble.” She shook her head in exasperation, but when Billy could only laugh at the incident, it caused her to break into a smile as well, which she attempted to hold back once it appeared. “It’s not funny!” Her giggling, however, said otherwise, and she rolled her eyes once more, plopping down on her bed as Billy sprawled out on his side, now taking the candy that was thrown at him and opening it for himself. 

The sound of glass breaking made both of them turn their heads back to the screen as they watched some poor girl get thrown from the top story onto a car by Jason, making Jess cringe. 

“So they’re just all dying at once now, huh?” 

“Typically how it goes,” Billy answered, biting into the candy bar and quickly swallowing, “Surprised she didn’t survive that.”

“She was thrown out of a window!” 

Billy just shrugged nonchalantly, “Eh, the car cushioned her fall.” Billy then turned back and smiled at her, taking another bite. 

“The car cushioned-“ Instead of finishing this sentence, she shook her head in disbelief and began laughing even harder. “You’re insane.”

“I’d survive that fall.”

“Sure you would, tough guy.” 

Billy scooted his way closer as they continued watching the movie, making the excuse that Jess was ‘hogging the chips’. Jess stopped feeling the need to shield herself from the jump scares and gory scenes as Billy continued to make jokes and ridicule how each character handled the situation, making her laugh as if she were watching a comedy. By the end of the movie, Billy was practically leaning against Jess as he continued to eat more chips than he wanted. 

“So what did you think, princess? Not that bad huh?” 

Jess shook her head slowly. “No, not that bad.” 

Billy beamed at her then tapped her leg with his hand before climbing over her, swinging his legs off her side of the bed, and heading to the door. 

“Bathroom’s this way, right?” He asked as he pointed in the right direction. 

“Yes, just please be quiet.”

“You got it, Princess.”

While he was gone, Jess took the time to remove the wrappers and crumbs from her bed, getting back under the covers as Billy was reentering the room. 

“Alright, Logan.” He climbed over her again to make it to his side of the bed and then sprawled out, laying his head on one of the pillows, “Goodnight.”

“You think so, huh?” 

“What?” He then looked at her with feigning surprise. “You wanna sleep all by yourself tonight? I guess you’re a big girl after all.”

“Shut up.”

Billy relaxed against the pillow he was lying on and moved his gaze to the ceiling and quickly changed the subject. “So have you seen the other ones?”

“Just the first one. Like I said, I’m not into scaring myself for fun.”

“You know what that means…” Billy nudged her side as he continued staring up, the solid blue light from the screen softly illuminating the room. “We gotta go on a marathon.” 

“That is not what that means,” Jess responded, also settling into bed, lifting the covers so that it barely covered her chin.

“I thought you said it wasn’t that bad,” he teased, shifting his head so he could look at her. Her eyes met his, rolling to the side before looking back at him, peering at him through her eyelashes, making Billy feel as if his chest would explode if he didn’t look away. Despite his whole body pleading with him to turn away, he kept his eyes fixed on hers as he continued. “I’ll tell you what,” he smiled deviously at her, “we switch off. You show me one of your lame chick flicks, and then we’ll watch the first Friday movie, yeah?” 

“First of all,” Jess pulled the covers back down to her chest so she could prop herself up with her elbow, “they’re not lame, and second, I’ve already seen the first one.”

“Then it shouldn’t be a problem to see it again.” Billy continued to stare at her, challenging her to accept. He also moved to incline himself, taking his pillow and folding it in half. 

“Fine. But after Friday the 13th, we’re done with horror movies.”

“Unless I make you like them.” Billy widened his smile, opening his mouth a bit to allow his tongue to run along the bottom row of his teeth. 

“Yeah right,” Jess scoffed, scrunching her eyebrows in disbelief.

“You seemed to like this one just fine.

“That’s only because you’re-“ She stopped abruptly, not allowing herself to finish that sentence, but when she looked over the expression Billy was making, the way his smile dropped and his eyes squinted, she knew she had to say something. “It’s only because you were making fun of it.”

Billy’s smile returned, but not as wide as it was earlier. “Then I’ll make sure to do the same thing next time.” He winked at her, settling into his folded pillow as he listened to her complain about how much she was going to hate this upcoming movie marathon, and how scared she was to watch the other two she hadn’t seen yet. But he knew better. He had watched how comfortable she had gotten after the first 30 minutes, watched how her shoulders stopped tensing. He liked to think he maybe had something to do with it, or maybe it was just the fact that he did pick the corniest movie out of the two. 

He wondered what would have happened if he had picked a different movie, a more frightening one. Would she have cowered under her blanket the whole time? Would she have cowered behind him? He quickly shook the ‘what ifs’ away. He knew that’s not how he wanted this night to go. He didn’t want to be the default guy she cuddled next to, didn’t want her to feel like she had to get close to him. This was the same reason he didn’t fight Steve about taking her home so early into the party. And he knew this was why he chose this franchise of horror movies to introduce her to. 

He continued to listen to her talk about all the movies she would make him watch. She figured she might show him the Star Wars movies since he was so adamant about making her watch a franchise as well, which he just scoffed at, but he knew watching some weird sci/fi films wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if it were with her. 

They continued changing topics for hours, whether it be about movies, school, and again about California until the conversation moved to the party that was being thrown on New Year’s Eve. 

“You’re going right?” 

“If Steve goes, yeah.”

“Why does it matter if Steve goes? You didn’t even hang out with him last time.”

“Steve happens to be my ride. And plus, I normally hang out with him. He was just busy last time.”

“Yeah, I saw,” Billy replied bitterly, “You forget I have a car or something?”

Jess looked at him interrogatively, “You’d want to take me?”

“If you need a ride, I can give you a ride.”

“That’s not what I was asking.” 

“Sounds like what you were asking.”

Jess sucked in and sighed, folding her pillow in half as well now and laying into it as her eyes started to get heavy. “I mean,” she paused for a moment, knowing exactly what she meant, just not how to say it, “I mean… everyone’s gonna be there. And everyone’s gonna see you taking me to this party. It’s not just you taking me to school anymore.” 

“And?”

“You want people to see me in your car?”

Billy shook his head and chuckled sarcastically, “Seems like you’re the one who’s worried about it, not me.”

“No that’s not…” Jess began to backtrack but paused. He was right, she was worried about it, but not in the way that he thought. It was when Billy began to get up that she started to speak again. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s hella late, and I’m falling asleep.” He began to grab for his jacket that was on the floor next to his side of the bed, holding it at his side as he turned to face Jess again. “Look, if you don’t want me to give you a ride, then I won’t, that’s all you had to say. You don’t need to go into some lame excuse about how I don’t want to-“

“That’s not what I meant...” Billy stood there, continuing to look at her, finally shrugging his shoulders, exaggerating the movement as to tell her to keep going. “It’s just. Your friends don’t like me, okay? And I already had trouble when you first started taking me to school and-“

“Who gave you trouble?” Billy quickly interrupted, seemingly unamused by this bit of information. 

“That’s not the point nor does it matter…” She sighed one last time, “The point is, I don’t want to be the talk of the school again, especially if your friends are the ones doing the talking.”

Billy took this into consideration, nodding as she finished, he then looked down at the ground, pondering what to say next, and looked back at her. “You know, Carol’s just bitter you don’t talk to her anymore. She doesn’t hate you.”

“That’s not really the vibe I get.”

“So who’s giving you trouble then, because I know it’s not Carol, she talks but she wouldn’t come at you directly. And Tommy really couldn’t give a shit.” Billy tossed his jacket down again and sat back on the bed, folding his left leg under him as his right hung off the edge. 

“Who do you think?” When Billy continued to stare at her, just about ordering her to give him an answer with the raise of his eyebrows, she scoffed, “Your girlfriend, that’s who.” 

Billy began to shake his head, laughing coldly at the news. “Which one?” he teased before releasing his downturned smirk, “Next time just tell her to fuck off.”

“I did.”

Billy nudged her lightly, conveying his approval. “That’s my girl.”

“It doesn’t make it any more fun though.”

“Getting to tell Jane to fuck off isn’t fun?”

Jess laughed at this, nodding her head in agreeance. “I meant the being talked about part.”

“Yeah, well, fuck ‘em.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? ‘Fuck ‘em’?”

“I’m starting to.” Billy drew a short, loud breath threw his nose, nodding slowly as he turned away from her for a moment. “It took me a while to get there but… yeah. Fuck ‘em all.” 

Jess giggled at this statement, relaxing her shoulders at the thought of not having a care in the world of what others thought. “So is that why you’re such an asshole?” Jess teased, earning a snort from Billy. 

“Nah,” Billy paused, staring at the foot of her bed, “No that’s not why…” He then tilted his head to look over at her, the light from the screen casting still shadows on her face. He smiled more to himself than at her before lying back down on the pillow that was now partially unfolded.

“I thought you were tired?”

“I am,” he said flatly. 

“I thought you were leaving?”

“That’s because I was irritated, and now I’m not.” When she didn’t respond he tilted his head and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

“No…” she whispered suddenly. 

“Good. Because I don’t want to either.”

Taglist: @nix-rose @fandom-princess-forevermore @ooo---hazelgrimm---ooo @axionn @defenslessheart-main @the-lost-are-ignored

#billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy deserved better #billy hargrove stranger things #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #billy stranger things #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove antis dni #billy antis dni #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove angst #stranger things 2 #stranger things #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove x oc #billy hargrove x original character #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fandom #billy hargrove gif

[thetwelfthcrow]

welcome everyone to 4433 fic recs, a list of my personal favorite fics for the Lewis Hamilton/Max Verstappen ship. whether you're new to the ship or are looking for some rereads, this list is for you. not a shipper? give it a shot i'd say!

AO3 collection with all my Formula One bookmarks

always be sure to check the accurate and updated tags on the fic itself (i only copy a few)! if your fic is on here and you'd like me to link your tumblr then just comment below and i'll change it :)

three small daisies by this_is_my_associate_mr_mc_clap_yo_handz | NR | 22,4k | complete discussions of sexuality / max is sad / lewis is confused / coming out / post AD21

When Lewis opens the door to his Monaco apartment he’s expecting a blender, not Max Verstappen thrusting a box of cupcakes at him in apparent offering.

the entire history of us by supercup | E | 16,5k | complete canon divergence / enemies to lovers / getting together / red bull!lewis

“I think,” Max says, eyes fixed on his fingers trailing along Lewis’ skin. “You think about things too much.” He looks up, meets their eyes. “Don’t think about it so much.”

sub rosa by mercyedes| E | 6,9k | complete secret relationship / little bit of exhibitionism / blow jobs / semi-public sex

siri play whistle by flo rida it's literally just lewis sucking dick in the merc garage, i would never deceive you <3

matchstick people by ecorone | E | 60,2k | complete magical realism / horror / hurt/comfort / pining / drug use / alcohol use

After Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen walk away unscathed from an inexplicable crash, they discover that their cars are turning into solid gold, piece by piece. Meanwhile, with a mysterious new investor onboard, Williams Racing sees a meteoric rise back to the top of the grid.

Negotiate by sainzjrs | E | 2,6k | complete high society / wealth

It’s blinding, bleeding and bending Max into someone else.

little lion man by Anney | M | 9,8k | complete getting together / hurt comfort / happy ending

If he had to pinpoint where it all began, Lewis would not know what to say. Perhaps it started with a chance encounter in a supermarket in Monaco, or maybe with the first date that followed, which neither of them would admit was a date (but which they both definitely count as one). Max would say it started because of the cherry-flavoured lube. But if Lewis had to choose a specific time and place where it all began—for him, at least—he’d say Silverstone. (Not that Silverstone.) - The story of how Lewis and Max fell in love, without realizing, and almost fell apart. Almost.

I just hate the way I miss you (and the way it hits me at night) by Missha (Mishtique) | T | 2,2k | complete fic entirely through messages / bitter sweet / open ending

[ lewishamilton can’t receive your messages. This person doesn’t allow any new chat requests ] Max accidentally replies to the first story Lewis posts after Abu Dhabi and finds out that Lewis doesn't accept new chat requests. The one-sided chat becomes somewhat of a safe place.

Melt Like Ice Cubes by WebCookie9 | M | 28,5k | 4/4ch complete summer vacation run-in / getting together / lewis hamilton is a FLIRT

Huh. There standing was a familiar looking dark skinned man, seemingly looking down at his phone or something but Max wasn't sure as the person was completely turned away from him. The sun was burning down strongly on that muscular back, making the skin shine and those damn tattoos gracing it were looking much too familiar to Max. The cross framed by soft looking wings. It couldn't be, right? What were the odds really that Lewis was spending his summerbreak at the exact same location, at the exact same hotel at the exact same time like him? It couldn't be. Maybe it was just some kind of hardcore fan or something, wanting to immitate the Brit. Yeah, that must be it. Or Max was going completely crazy. He should drink something. And get out of this aggressive sun.

I'm fine (I do it every time) by individualist | M | 8,7k | complete hurt-comfort / discussions of trauma / sad

“Can I kiss you?” It’s the strangest thing Max has ever said out loud in his life. If his dad knew, he would kill him on the spot. If Helmut knew, he would kick him off the team. But there’s no one but Lewis and Max in the room, and Max has accepted that he might have lost his shit on the short walk from the front door to his living room. - Max is alone on his birthday and gets a strange message from an unknown British number. (It's Lewis. Of course it's Lewis.)

some day we might by capsize (copenhagenborn) | E | 9,5k | complete alternate universe - non famous / friends to lovers / eventual happy ending

“He has a girlfriend, Max.” Lewis snaps and stands up from the chair to face Max head-on. “Daniel has a girlfriend, and you still fell in love with him, didn’t you?” Max takes a step back, but Lewis is right there with him, following him back until Max has his back against the wall. “You are lying.” He hisses, because – it cannot be. Daniel has never mentioned having anyone at home, he wouldn’t – he would have told Max so if he did. Let him know if his heart wasn’t his to give. “Do not be cruel to me, Lewis.” Lewis laughs, but it’s a wry, mean thing that does nothing to settle Max’s anger. “Of course, you would blame this on me. Take some fucking responsibility for once, Max.” “Fuck you, Lewis.” Max says and pushes past Lewis before he storms out of the room. Or, that’s the nature of crushes. Either they work out or they don’t. Seldom do they make you realise you’re in love with someone else. But then, Max has always been special.

Bones in the Ocean by Yvxson | E | 27,1k | 7/7ch, complete alternate universe - college/university / enemies to lovers / bit of a slowburn

Max is trying to write his dissertation for his master's degree in Maritime History, the biggest downside to this isn't the lack of sleep, or the long days spent in the library trying to get his research done. No, it's definitely Lewis, who is working on his own dissertation and who always seems to be in Max's way. Everything is going perfectly fine (if you ignore the building up caffeine addiction, his wrecked social life, and the weird dreams that seem to plague him every time he closes his eyes.)

Want you to call me baby by individualist | E | 11k | complete angst / dirty talk / lewis is retired / dom-sub undertones

Lewis is retired and Max is dominating the sport. Turns out, Max really can’t deal with the pressure of it all.

he wants to fuck that old(er) man | T | 2,4k | complete crack fic / coming out / social media / texting

Max is never going out with Lando again. This is all his fault. or in which Max gets drunk, makes a bad decision, and has to deal with the fallout. It ends up alright, though. [Graphic Format: uses a lot of HTML and CSS]

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askbox always open for your favorite 4433 fics! i love to know what you love to read. this list is not complete (nor will it ever be) and will be updated irregularly. enjoy reading!

#zhalia's lil' chit chat #made a whole ass banner for this y'all better like it #4433 #4433 fic recs #it's the start of a new thing. it is by far not done or complete rn but i wanted to see if y'all like this #otp: not god and his angel

[fushigurro]

𝑪𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑻𝒀.

pairing. — dental hygienist!eren jaeger x gn!reader

word count. — 1.3k

content. — suggestive content (no actual smut but still, mdni), mentions of candy/eating, dentist office setting, mentions of reader having dental anxiety and possible oral fixation, mentions of some questionable dental practice (but nothing bad happens to reader), no actual procedures are done but reader is told they have cavities, i think that's it sorry i'm trying to be thorough because until recently this shit seriously bothered me lmao so i don't want to upset anybody!

notes. — it is upon us!! i know it's like a couple of hours until halloween (at least where i'm at) but i wanted to post this while i was riding the high of finishing this up. this is my entry for @bastardblvd 's house of slimy horrors collab! my prompt was "candy" and i took this as an opportunity to thirst over dental hygienist!eren and lowkey further heal from my dentophobia lol. but i hope you enjoy! (divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more)

The distinct stench of the dentist’s office seems to fill your nostrils with increasing potency the longer you sit in the waiting room, anticipating the moment when your name will be called and you will be one step closer to being able to just leave. Your nerves are wracked despite the simple reason for your visit (a routine exam and cleaning) because this place never fails to nearly make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It seems fitting that Halloween is only a couple of days away, and you wish you could pop a piece of candy directly into your mouth to give yourself something pleasant to focus on.

Whether it be because of the rather off-putting and…eccentric cohort of licensed(?) dentists or the generally apathetic hygienist that is always hovering over you, your appointments consistently end on a note of complete and utter desperation to just get the hell out of there. You’re already bouncing your knee and anxiously counting down the seconds until it happens. The Halloween decorations, though relatively jovial in nature, don’t particularly make you feel any more at ease. You almost envy the fake skeleton in the corner for its perfect set of teeth.

You’re jostled out of your bored but nervous daze by a rather low utterance of your name coming from the doorway to the back. You stand from your seat and look over to see a familiar face: a young man with dark hair tied back to keep it out of his brilliant green eyes and expressionless—but handsome—features. You recognize him as the same hygienist to have taken care of you last time (was his name Adrian? Aaron?), and although his rather unenthusiastic presence leaves something to be desired, you can’t help but take the slightest bit of comfort in it. If nothing else, you at least remember him being thorough and competent enough for you to not be so on edge.

“Sorry for the wait,” he says as he walks you down the hall and to a room on the left where an empty chair is there waiting for you, and beside it a small table adorned with the various cleaning instruments all laid out in a neat line. You quickly take a seat and let him prepare the x-ray machine and place the heavy protective sheet over you shortly after.

“I’m gonna grab a few x-rays first, alright?” he explains, voice tinted with the slightest bit of friendliness. You get the sense that he’s not the most talkative of beings and that bedside manner isn’t exactly his favorite part of the job, but you at least appreciate the hint of effort you can detect. And it doesn’t hurt that he’s rather enjoyable to look at, either; not to mention the smooth sound of his voice and the way his eyes seem to linger on you for a few seconds too long.

“Bite down on this for me,” he instructs, placing an odd contraption in front of your mouth and waiting for you to open so that he can get on with the x-rays. He’s almost a little intimidating, looming over you and giving quiet orders in your direction, but you can’t deny that there’s something appealing about opening your mouth for him, even if it’s so he can place uncomfortable equipment in it. Maybe it’s the escapist part of your brain trying to forget about the stress of the appointment, but it can’t hurt to have a few indulgent thoughts during the process, can it? Whatever works to get you out of here with your sanity, right? You don’t reckon most people are lucky enough to have such an attractive hygienist, so you might as well appreciate it while you can.

You repeat this process a few more times—opening, closing, opening, closing—until he’s finally done and removing the lead sheet from your torso. Twiddling your thumbs restlessly, you watch as he examines the images on his screen, giving you a few moments to really look him over. You’re less concerned with the results of the x-rays than you are with observing his body—it looks rather toned even beneath the scrubs he’s wearing, and you wonder what sort of things he does in his free time. Going to the gym seems highly likely, but perhaps he’s outdoorsy? Is he a weightlifter, or does he go on hikes? Play sports? Is he good at other physical things—?

Your thoughts are cut short by his voice breaking the silence. “Looks like there’s some decay on a couple of your bottom molars,” he states, walking back over to you and placing a gloved thumb on your chin. “Open for me?”

You obey and lower your jaw, giving him space to lean in and take a peek at your back teeth. He’s much closer now, brows furrowed in concentration as he tries to focus in with his eyes, and there’s a faint but pleasant masculine scent capturing your attention. Maybe it’s a spritz of cologne or his body wash taking over your senses, but whatever it is, it’s certainly more alluring than you’d like for it to be, especially with the way you can practically feel his breath fanning over your skin. It only lasts for a second before he’s pulling away, and you’re warmer than usual.

“Yeah,” he says conclusively, taking a seat on the stool next to you and bringing the mask up over his mouth and nose, which… he probably should’ve done before getting in your face a few moments ago, but you honestly aren’t complaining. He looks and smells clean, and you’re already mourning the loss of the sight of his lips. “I’ll let the doc take a look, but you’ll probably need a little work done.”

“Is it bad?” you ask a bit too quickly from the jitters, his words not exactly what you were hoping to hear today. 

Eren shakes his head in response. “No, nothing serious. Just looks like maybe you’ve been laying it a little heavy on the sugar lately.”

You don’t like the sudden feeling of being accused or interrogated, but you suppose that’s simply part of his job. With an ashamed look on your face, you cast your glance to the side. “Yeah. Maybe.” You don’t like to admit it at the dentist’s office, but in recent months you’d developed somewhat of a bad habit of sucking on candies and lollipops on the regular. Your sugar consumption had only increased since the beginning of October, which certainly couldn’t be helping the problem. “I guess I’ve gotten a little too used to munching on all the extra candy lately.” You chuckle to try and lighten the mood. “Maybe I have an oral fixation or something.” 

It’s hard to fully read his face beneath the mask, but you see him quirk a brow as he starts to lean your chair back for your cleaning. “Yeah?” he asks, somewhat intrigued. 

You’re staring up at him now, watching as those beautiful eyes fixate on your body and then your lips. Sure, it’s his job to make keen observations about your mouth, and maybe it’s just wishful thinking on your behalf, but you can swear the way he stares at you is less than medical in nature. It’s not easy for you to keep from squirming and hide that very same look in your own eyes. 

“Mhm,” you reply simply, gaze glued to his face.

Slowly, Eren pulls the mask back down below his chin and leans in closer than necessary, letting you see the way his lips part and how his eyes go half-lidded. He brings his thumb back up to your mouth but slips it inside this time, fascinated with the way you instantly close down around it. “I think we should find another way to keep you occupied,” he says, voice even lower than usual in a way that makes your heart gallop. “Don’t wanna let candy be what ruins your pretty mouth, do you?”

#eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #aot x reader #my writing. #re: eren jaeger

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is HEAVILY inspired by the business card scene in American Psycho. (I wrote this back in 2021 for a collab.) [ SYNOPSIS ] Zeke's perceived inadequacy leads him to a situation that only exacerbates his insecurities. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.2k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU (duh), not a big fan of the term "crack fic" but that's basically what this is, Zeke's only a few years older than the rest of the Warriors, sharing nudes without consent, smutty stuff is mentioned, alcohol, marijuana, body horror (Zeke describes scaphism in great detail), Zeke's probably ooc because I basically turned him into Patrick Bateman.

Zeke’s standing in the back of the bar, cornered by his friends. His life is in shambles because you dragged him to a birthday party in the nicest part of the city on the very night he decided to make a major life choice. Tonight was the night he said fuck it and shaved off his beard.

“You look like a baby,” Porco laughs.

“Like an angular baby, like a baby with good cheekbones,” Bertholdt, the birthday boy, mutters to himself.

“Can I touch your face?”

Zeke clenches his jaw and goes to speak only to be interrupted by Reiner's tender touch.

“Wow, that is soft. You got really soft skin. What do you use?”

Zeke smacks Reiner's hand away and uses the sleeve of his flannel to wipe away his residual touch. The meathead’s compliment was sufficient; there was no need to make physical contact.

“Sisley’s Black Rose Skin Infusion Cream.” Zeke sighs, accepting Reiner’s interpersonal failure. “How drunk are you?”

Reiner grins.

“I don’t know but your girlfriend’s the one that’s making them,” Reiner says before dissolving into the crowd.

Zeke questions whether or not Reiner was actually there in the first place. He could have merely been an anxiety induced hallucination.

“I have to… go,” Zeke abruptly blurts out to no one in particular as he pushes himself through his group of friends.

Free from their grasp he kicks himself for being so inarticulate in such a genuine way. Usually his nerves were hidden by a veneer of stoicism, but now he wonders if maybe it was just the beard. 

The bar is packed and Zeke stands on his tippy toes trying to see your little head bobbing around somewhere. So many people look like you from this distance. He takes off his glasses and squints but it does little to assist him. He nearly drops them as he maneuvers them back onto his face. Eventually he hears you cackling close by. He sighs heavily once he spots you behind the bar. You look angelic, a beacon of light in a sea of complete fucking bullshit. You look him in the eyes and smile, relief washing over him.

“Don’t you have to have a license or something to be back there?” he asks you, hiding his anxiety behind a facade of smugness.

You shrug and lean over the bar to kiss his forehead.

“They ain’t kicked me out yet so… I guess not.”

Zeke sits down on a bar stool and holds his head in his hands. He remembers that this is a private party and the likelihood of anyone actually giving a shit is slim to none.

“Reiner called you my girlfriend.”

“Ew, why?”

Zeke peers up from his hands, the rest of his face still obscured. Anything to hide his lack of facial hair.

“Because we showed up together and he probably heard us fucking in the bathroom earlier. Can you hold these for me? I almost dropped them.”

Zeke hands you his glasses and you tuck them away in your purse.You pat his head and ruffle his wavy blonde hair. He relishes in the gentle touch of your hand.

“Reiner’s an idiot. Want a shot?”

“Two. You know what I like.”

You grab a bottle of whiskey and overpour two shots. You pass one to him and go grab the other for yourself. Zeke grabs your wrist and stares up at you.

“They’re both for me.”

You shake your head and pour yourself one. Zeke downs the whiskey, savoring the smokey taste it leaves behind on his tongue. Just as he goes to ask you about how your day was Marcel fucking Galliard taps him on the shoulder.

“Buddy, it’s been too long. How ya been?”

Marcel is hammered and he lifts Zeke off the stool into a bear hug. Zeke feels the whiskey crawl up his throat, the most painful tickle he’s been subjected to.

“Ni—nice to see you. It has been awhile,” he chokes out.

Marcel loosens his grip and takes a seat next to Zeke. He looks impeccable, his hair perfectly quaffed. His skin was practically glowing. How could such a drunk guy look so put together and handsome?

“It has been a fucking while!” Marcel exclaims once more.

Zeke scratches his ear and then subtly waves you off. You slowly walk away backwards from the men, bumping into the actual bartender.

“Colt! Coltie Boy!... Damn, dude, you alright? You look tired.”

Marcel has mistaken Zeke for Colt Grice, one of the other tall blonde guys in their friend group. It seems logical because Colt works at the same middle school as Zeke doing the same exact thing he does, teaching language arts to seventh graders. Though Zeke thinks he’s smarter and more relatable to his students. It certainly doesn’t help that he hasn’t seen Marcel in years, who likely has forgotten what he looks like.

“Well I haven’t been getting much sleep. You know me, burning the midnight oil and all.”

Marcel laughs way too hard at Zeke’s joke which wasn’t even a joke in the first place.

He grabs Zeke’s shoulder and continues. “Great, that’s great. Such a hard worker. So uh, shit what’s her name… That girl you’ve been seeing.”

“Pieck.”

Marcel snaps his fingers and grabs Zeke’s shoulder again.

“Yeah, yeah, how’s Pieck? She’s a keeper. A great girl.”

“She’s good, couldn’t be happier with her. We’re thinking about getting a dog.”

“Wow, that’s—that’s great. You deserve it, man. You’re a good guy. Not like that dork Zach Yeager.”

“His name is Zeke, Marcel.”

“Who cares? You,” Marcel pokes Zeke in the chest, just barely missing his nipple, “you’re a good guy. You got your life together. Fuck Zach, man.”

Zeke nods in agreement.

“He’s a fucking dick, you know? Sure, yeah, I haven’t seen that weirdo in years, but I don’t even have to see him to know he’s—” Marcel pauses to burp into his hand. “excuse me. To know he’s a piece of shit.”

“I can’t say I’ve ever been a fan either.”

“Fucking wears dumb glasses, like dude get a normal pair.”

“I know, right?”

“Grandpas wear those glasses, Coltie. Grand. Pas.”

Just as Zeke feels like he’s going to vomit into his own lap Bertholdt pops up from behind Marcel, eyes full of concern. 

“Hey Marcel, Porco’s out back and he’s not looking too good.”

Bertholdt’s a dirty liar and everyone except Marcel knows it. Porco’s tolerance is god-like, an unwavering cognitive marvel. Marcel sighs and stands up, stumbling out the door to the patio, Bertholdt trailing behind. He hits his forehead on the door frame on his way out.

“Are you gonna be okay?” you quietly ask, eating a maraschino cherry you stole from someone’s drink.

Zeke smiles and shakes his head. 

“It could’ve been wor—”

“Oh shit! What happened? You kinda look like dad!”

Eren is standing in the doorway with a pair of wayfarers on. He definitely stole them from someone; there was no way he’d drop money on Ray Bans. He comes over and hugs Zeke from behind. Zeke appreciates Eren’s affection but it does nothing to soothe verbal assault he received from Marcel.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I know that was fucked up,” Eren coos. “But I am right. I can’t help that.”

It doesn’t matter if Eren is right or not. Zeke’s ego is crushed beyond repair. You shoo his brother away and drag Zeke into one of the booths, sitting across the table from him. He frowns.

“Can you sit next to me?”

The alcohol is taking hold of him. He needs attention and affection, but not too much. Anything beyond you sitting beside him, holding him close, is simply unbearable. You switch sides and scoot close to him. 

Zeke notices you staring at him. Your gaze is kind, kinder than a shithead like him deserves. He can’t remember a time in his life where he felt more insecure and unworthy of you. When your soft hand caresses his bare face he is slightly startled. However it’s a welcome gesture.

“I think you look good,” you purr.

He slinks down into his seat, bathing in your praise.

“I’m a little jealous of your jawline too.”

Zeke blushes.

“I look that good, huh?”

“No, you look like shit. I was lying the whole time. You’re the ugliest guy here.”

“Stop you’re going to make me fall in love with y—”

“Colt! The fuck?! What about Pieck, man?!”

You both turn to see a very drunk, very disheveled Marcel being carried out of the bar by Porco and Colt. Colt turns around, looking fresh as daisy, not a single line or wrinkle on his face; his skin smoother than a baby’s ass. He flashes an apologetic grin and lets go of Marcel, walking towards the two of you with utmost confidence. Porco crashes into a table because Marcel might as well be the most cumbersome person on the planet at this moment.

“This is probably the worst time to ask, but do you think I could use your study guides for my class tomorrow? I didn’t have time to throw anything together because Pieck and I were settling into our new apartment.”

Zeke wants to die right then and there. Zeke, who lives in a studio apartment with a chinchilla named Robert. Zeke, who will never own any form of home in his life. Zeke, who’s skincare routine will never make up for years of smoking and sitting in the sun.

“Wow! That’s so cool, Colt!” you pipe up, wrapping an arm around Zeke. He leans into you, desperately trying to disappear. He wants you to make the situation go away, to wrap it up with a little bow and toss it out a window.

“It’s a lot of work getting all that furniture into the penthouse that’s for sure.”

“I can imagine,” you reply eagerly, making up for Zeke’s awkwardness.

Colt just stands there grinning. 

The lull in the conversation is too much for Zeke bear. He realizes he needs to open his mouth and speak.

“Uh, you can use my study guides.”

“Oh thank you! You’re a lifesaver.” Colt turns around to see the nuclear disaster that is the Galliard brothers. “I hate to cut this short, but I have to take care of that,” he laughs. “Let’s do dinner sometime!”

Once Colt is out of earshot Zeke falls to pieces.

“Let’s do an execution sometime, Colt. Just boil me alive, send me to the boats.”

Zeke notices the quizzical look you give him and tosses his head back and groans.

“It’s a form of execution where you trap someone between two boats—row boats not ocean liners.” He knows you all too well, your perception prone to the absurd. “And you force feed them milk and honey, and you cover them with it too. And then you leave them to fester and rot in the sun like in a lake or a river.” He coughs. “Death doesn’t come quickly obviously. Flies lay eggs in your wounds, feasting upon your infected flesh. Mosquitos rise from the putrid water and buzz around you. Your body decays right before your eyes.”

“Uh,” is all you can manage to spit out.

He can’t hide his disappointment, and avoids your gaze.

“I know something that’ll cheer you up.”

“What?” he asks.

“Wanna see some dick pics?”

Zeke’s attention is thoroughly piqued. He clears his throat, trying to mask his blatant curiosity.

“Sure. Whose do you have?”

You smirk. “I got everyone.”

“Do you go around showing these to everyone?”

Zeke panics remembering the series of dick pics he sent you one night after smoking two blunts by himself. So many different angles and his face was definitely in a few of them.

“Oh god no, I don’t show them to anyone.”

He bathes in a sea of relief.

“Okay good. Let me see.”

You pull out your phone and go to your hidden photos. A barrage of dicks show up on the screen all in various states of turgidity.

‘Wait, I want to see mine first.”

“Fine. Weirdo.”

You scroll down to find a picture of Zeke’s hard cock. A solid six inches. Circumcised. A few veins running along the length of it, more on the green side. It’s framed by curly, untrimmed, flaxen pubic hair which suddenly Zeke is weirdly self conscious about. He can’t help but wonder if Colt has untamed pubes.

“Should I wax?”

You look at him like he has three heads.

“What? No. I like them even if they get caught in my teeth occasionally.”

You pinch his cheek and Zeke lets out a little “phew”. He doesn’t know what he’d do if you told him otherwise. The idea of ripping out his body hair terrifies him. Shaving’s bad enough, the resulting emotional anguish a burden he struggles to bear. He might die if he added physical pain into the mix.

“I appreciate the angles,” you say. “It’s artistic. The lighting hits the cum dripping off the tip perfectly.”

Zeke basks in the light of your praise.

“Nice and erect, not floppy and flaccid. It’s one of my favorites.”

He shivers at the thought of sending you a photo of his limp dick. He’s a grower, not a shower, a fact that left him feeling inadequate if he thought too hard about it.

It was seemingly unfounded. You never expressed any displeasure when you’d pull his cock out of his pants and see it in its flaccid state. No hint of judgment when you got down on your knees and sucked him off. Just pure, unadulterated joy.

“Gimme a name.”

“Let’s see the birthday boy.”

You pull up a poorly lit photo of an incredibly erect cock. No veins, very smooth with an even coloring. Zeke notices he’s uncircumcised and tries to convince himself that his dick being circumcised makes him a better person than Bertholdt.

“It’s very long,” you say, zooming in on the dick and scrolling down. “Not super thick though.”

“I’m not impressed.”

Zeke takes pride in his cock being thicker than Bertholdt’s.

“Can I ask why you have a pic of his dick?”

“He was drunk and meant to send it to Annie.”

“And you kept it?”

“Hey, whoa. I did ask.”

Zeke gives you a quizzical look. He is having trouble discerning the situation at hand and it makes him feel like he’s dying. You pat his back.

“I was like, ‘Bertl, can I keep this?’ And he was like, ‘If you feel so compelled.’ And let me tell you... I was compelled.”

“Next one,” Zeke says, glaring at the dick on your phone screen.

“Okay,” you flip through your photos, “Porco.”

You hold up your phone, showing Zeke a still image of Porco furiously masturbating on the bathroom floor.

“D—did he set up a timer on his phone?”

“Yeah, grandpa, welcome to the 21st century. We’re happy to have you.”

“You’re two years younger than me, grandma.”

You stick your tongue out at him and zoom in on Porco’s cock. His cock curves upward quite a bit, veiny but not nearly as veiny as Zeke’s. The tip is a pearlescent pink. Porco managed to catch himself in the middle of his orgasm, cum spurting upward like a geyser.

“What do you think?” you ask him.

“Cum looks a little thin, watery even.”

Zeke wants to tack on that his cum is more robust, but he realizes how pathetic it is to brag about.

“I like it when it’s thicker. Like if someone is going to come on me I wanna feel it splatter on my skin, you know?”

Zeke doesn’t know.

“Yeah I get that,” he lies.

“I appreciate the action of the shot, but it’s too busy. I see a bottle of Acqua di Gio on his bathroom counter. His plunger is in the background. I don’t like that his bathroom rug is orange.”

Zeke could hear you talk shit about Porco’s nudes all day.

“You lookin’ at Porco’s nudes?”

Reiner slides into the other side of the booth. He’s pretty drunk, skin a little pink, but he seems mostly there.

“Has everyone seen them?” Zeke asks in a panic.

“No. I overheard you guys talking,” he chastises. “You guys are really harsh critics.”

“I have standards, Reiner.”

“If people can be film critics, why not dick critics?” Zeke asks, genuinely wanting an answer.

“Hey!” You smack Reiner’s arm. “Can I show Zeke your dick?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t. I’m not an artist, but I’ve been told I have an eye for color,” he brags.

Zeke rolls his eyes. “Hush. Let’s see the dick.”

You pull up Reiner’s dick on your phone. It’s a lower body shot, just his torso and cock in view, it’s standing straight up. His body is framed by his earth toned bedding that makes his skin look divine. He’s statuesque, like a Greek god.

“Check out my cum gutters.”

“Reiner,” you exclaim. “Gross!”

“So Zeke, what do you think?” Reiner asks eagerly.

“Impressive,” Zeke chokes out. “Very nice.”

Zeke’s ready to move on. Reiner’s color coordinating bodybuilder nudes make him want to wear clothes for the rest of his life. He pictures himself dressed in his pajamas, standing in the middle of his shower, arms crossed, looking absolutely miserable.

“Hm, I think that’s all I have. Wait. Oh my god, I forgot I have your brother’s.”

Zeke is conflicted. On one hand he feels protective of Eren and wants to destroy your phone, preserving Eren’s honor. But on the other he wants to rip Eren’s head off for sending you a picture of his dick.

“I have one!” Reiner pipes up.

“Whose?” Zeke and you ask in unison.

“Colt’s.”

You start to shake your head. “No, no more dick pics. We’re done for the night.”

“No,” Zeke says, clenching his jaw. “Let’s see Colt Grice’s cock.”

You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, preparing yourself for Zeke’s reaction. Reiner winces, realizing his mistake. But still he pulls out his phone.

“Why do you have a picture of his dick?” you ask.

“He needed a creative consultant,” he replies plainly.

Reiner goes through his phone and breathes heavily. He looks up from his phone, his lips a flat line, and he holds up Colt’s dick pic.

It’s a full body shot of Colt. His cock is thick and long, the same look and size as Zeke’s. He grabs Reiner’s phone and stares at Colt’s throbbing erection. It’s taken in his bathroom and unlike Porco's, his counter is organized, only a small bottle of expensive hand soap lurking in the corner. His dick is the perfect shade of pink, the head of his cock picturesque. It’s smooth, but not in a creepy way. It’s like it was sculpted by Rodin, rock hard and tremendous.

“Oh my god. His pubes are so trim,” Zeke mutters. 

His hand shakes and he drops the phone. Reiner grabs it, slips it into his pocket, and looks away from Zeke. The three of you sit in silence, the only sounds coming from the party.

“Is something wrong, Zeke?” you ask. “You’re sweating.”

Zeke doesn’t say anything. There isn’t anything to say. This isn’t something that can be buffed away with pity. The wounds inflicted are too deep. The pain radiating through his being will never cease. There will be no relief from his festering inadequacy. Happiness and hope for the future are rendered foreign concepts.

The man is irreparably damaged.

#zeke yeager x reader #zeke jaeger x reader #zeke yeager smut #zeke jaeger smut #aot smut #snk smut #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #zeke aot smut #.fics #.aot #.zeke #.reiner #.colt #x reader #reader insert

[grimoireofhayley]

Of Friends and Horror

Stu Macher x Fem!Reader x Billy Loomis

WARNINGS: Graphic content, Smut (MINORS DNI), Language, Talks of SA, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Gore, 18+ Content, Stalking, Possessiveness, Dirty talk, Religion talk, Suppressed Mental Health problems (I.e., reader has some issues that she isn't aware of)

Word Count: 0.6k

Tag List: @ev3ningrain @nerdytif @fanfic-enjoyer123 @darkenwolfie @juda-the-simp @colsons-baker

A/n: I am so sorry for the delayed update, it’s been a busy couple of days. I also apologize for this chapters shortness, the next one will be longer, I promise! It’s getting to the better parts now haha. I’m also a mother of twin boys, so updating may very this week, until they go to their dads on the weekend; I’ll do my best to upload as much chapters as I can tonight, so you’re not left starving for more 😜😜

All chapter links! 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

OF&H Masterlist

Chapter 7

“Ghost Face?” Dewey mumbles to himself, “You know, it’s funny that you say that…” Dewey chuckles, not meaning any harm by it, he just finds it odd. 

“What is it?” Tantum suddenly blurts, standing right next to you, and you nod your head, wanting Dewey to continue his explanation. 

“Sidney got a call around the same time you did…” He strokes his mustache in a thinking manner, trying to piece his words together. 

‘So, there’s two of them?’ You thought.

“She did?” You asked, “So, there must be two of them then, but why is it ‘funny’ I should say that?” You reiterated Dewey’s words, paraphrasing them.

“You got a heart in a box, whereas she is in the back of an ambulance right now as we speak because ‘Ghost Face’ tried to kill her…” He shakes his head, a small huff escaping his lips. “We had a sketch artist do her thing; asking questions about the appearance, y’know, the usual stuff and she drew this…” He holds up the mask, “To the T.” He lets out a chortle, “It’s ironic. She almost got killed, but you, you have an admirer… It’s twisted, that’s why it’s funny to me.” He closes his eyes for a second before blinking them open. 

You were rendered speechless, not sure how to feel about the entirety of the situation.

“Is Sidney okay?” Tatum catechized, placing a hand over her chest, her breathing picking up speed as she felt her blood pressure rising, she was on the brink of a panic attack. 

You look at her, gripping her shoulder. “I’m sure she’s fine, right Dewey?” You glance up at the deputy in front of you.

“Oh, yeah, she’s fine. She’s stable, just a few cuts here and there, she's just freaked out is all.” He reassures his sister.

“Oh, thank God.” Tatum gasps, hunching over as she places her hands on her knees, trying to elevate her panicked breaths. 

“Um, speaking of freaked out, (Y/n), please don’t be alarmed..” He murmurs, rubbing the back of his head, debating whether he should tell you or not, but in the end, he opens his mouth… 

You narrowed your eyes, your pupils dilating from a mixture of concern and aggravation, “What is it?” 

“Billy… He, he-uh, was caught at the crime scene at Sidney’s and is being held in custody.” His face reddens as he averts his gaze elsewhere. 

Dewey knew how close you and Billy are, but to tell you that your best friend has been arrested for the time being scared him. He didn’t know how you’d react, but from what he knows already, your emotions can be ‘explosive’ when it comes to people you care about. 

“He’s what?!” You screeched, fuming, storming out of the house, grabbing your bag that was by the front door and slung it over your shoulder.

“Take me to him.” You demanded, looking up at Sheriff Burke, who was midst in a conversation with another Officer.

“Hold on, take you to who?” He asked, stepping away from his coworker, his eyebrows cocked at your tone.

“To Billy.” You bit your bottom lip, placing your hand on your hip. 

“I can’t do that, he’s in questioning.” Sheriff Burke shakes head, not wanting to do this right now.

“You have to take me in for questioning, too. Do you not?” You looked at him, feet glued to the ground.

“Yes, I do--”

“Good, so let’s go.” You smiled, tapping your foot, shoving past Burke. 

The Sheriff sighed, ascending his arm, directing you to his vehicle. “Off we go then…” 

<- Previous Next ->

#fanfiction #billy loomis #billy loomis x female reader #billy loomis x reader #billy x you x stu #scream 1996 #billy x stu #scream franchise #stu macher #stu macher x female reader

[lets-break-free-from-our-chains]

Forever and Always My Truest- Prologue

A/N: I’m back! You guys, it’s been a hell of a ride these past couple of years. I just decided one day that I was finally ready to go to college and flash forward a few years and i’m so close to having my Bachelors degrees in Psychology and Pre-Law! Anyways, I know there’s a lot of back and forth about whether the newly released 2022 movie The Invitation is good or bad, but I honestly really like it. You can’t go just by me though, cause i’m a whore for 70′s, 80′s and 90′s slashers! Yeah honey, I born a y2k baby and grew up watching horror movies like that😂 anyways lets go!

Requested? No😭 I think this is actually the first reader insert imagine or general imagine/one-shot for this movie. Hopefully, I won’t be the only one posting for The Invitation cause I really want to read other writer’s work and takes on the fandom!

Word Count: 1,650k-ish

Summary: Lady (Y/N) de Ville has been Lord de Ville’s favored bride for more than four and a half centuries. She is Walter’s beloved and cherished wife in every way. Lady Viktoria and Lady Lucy holding title and image of being one of Dracula’s brides strictly for power and connections, so that Lord Walter can provide (Y/N) and himself an eternity fit for a king and his treasured Queen. The Alexander Bloodline threaten Dracula’s goals of obtaining and maintaining control and power for (Y/N) and himself. Until the Alexanders are finally able to produce a long-lost daughter of their waning bloodline, Evelyn Alexander. As much as (Y/N) wants it to work out as well and easy as it did with Lady Lucy’s transition into bride-hood, she understands and respects that Evie is an entirely different breed of woman. Can (Y/N) save her husband and sisters before it’s too late? She wasn’t his first bride, but she will be his last bride in the end. No matter if that is by the end of this wedding or by the end of eternity.

Warnings: dub-con, forced marriage, polygamy, light NSFW, possible Stockholm syndrome?, obsessive/possessive behavior, Yandere-ish Walter de Ville, slight exhibitionism, descriptions of exhibitionism, dom/sub relationship—warnings to be added. Let me know if I missed anything.

18+ MINORS DNI!!! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! I DON’T NEED TO GET IN TROUBLE BECAUSE YOU’RE A MINOR READING STUFF YOU KNOW VERY WELL YOU SHOULD NOT BE READING!!! THANX

Disclaimers: I do not own The Invitation or any of the characters within the movie. You know what is and isn’t mine.

Walter de Ville x Wife!Reader

Prologue

~453 years and 7 months before present day 2022~

           ~(Y/N) P.O.V~

The dark corridors were lit by torches lining the walls, leading straight to heavy ornate wooden doors. I stood before the doors with my father, shaking with nerves as I let out a breathless sigh, before gathering the courage to look towards the handsome matured lord.

“Papa…what if he decides that he doesn’t want me?” She softly inquired. The man quietly laughed, with pure amusement shading his golden eyes. Those ethereal golden eyes a signature trait of the Castellan bloodline descendants.

“My dearest (Y/N), how could he not desire you above all others?” He sweetly cooed, seemingly so certain of his words. Still I cast papa an uncertain look and he softly sighed before fixing me with a gentle stare.

“Little one…the Master has never selected a bride before. Yet, he himself specifically chose you to be his wife, did he not?”

The man gave out an inquiring hmm as he gazed softly at me. I let a slight smile crack through my composed face. ‘Never let them see what you truly feel or think’ I mused to myself; ‘I suppose I can let my papa see though.’

Papa smiled brightly in the softly lit walls.

“Such a stunning young lady.” My papa states proudly. He’s always been a proud man, especially when it comes to me, his only daughter.

I am not the only girl from my ancient noble bloodline, but I was the only one out of all the young eligible ladies of my family, that received the Master’s immediate undivided attention. He did not seem to care at all for his bride Lady Viktoria, even as she stuck close to him practically breathing down his neck. He seemed vexed and annoyed in fact. Constantly sending her away to do something else, so that he and I could have privacy.

The master was a intimidating presence to say the least. He was tall and deliciously handsome, but a dark and dangerous look always seemed to dominate his angelic face. However, not with me. ‘Never with me.’ I thought wistfully. When he’s with me he’s soft, loving, patience, kind, understanding, funny, playful, and the list goes on. Truly shocking sites to bear witness to at first, considering all the horrors that I’ve heard people to dare whisper through the halls of my family’s castle about the Master.

I was pulled from my mind wandering state by a delicate wanton message. It called to me, washing my entire body with heat and desire.

“I belong solely to you, my truest. Soon you shall belong to me”

‘My Lord Love.’ A relaxed smile blossoming across my shining lips as my eyes slipped shut to bask in his voice.

“It is time, my dearest (Y/N)” I hear my papa’s voice.

My eyes snapped open to zero in on my papa’s face and I take in his knowing look. He knows, as he’s seen first hand the deep affections the Master holds solely for me. Papa knows he won’t have to worry for me. He knows I’ll flourish by my Lord Love’s side. He knows. He knows. He knows.

I straighten my posture and face as the doors begin to open to the night church. There he stands, so regal and handsome. Dark brown hair styled to perfection and the bluest of blue eyes that exploded with light as he lays them upon my queenly figure. He large smile stretches across his face as he locks his sight and attention on me.

I begin the slow march down the darken aisle between the pews of important lords and ladies. I can see my family and members from the other three prominent families. I see Lady Viktoria in all her jealousy and envy. ‘Certainly, no one wears desperation and jealousy the way your do Viktoria.’ I snicker away in mind, with genuine amusement.

My internal laughter is joined by the master’s laughter not a moment to soon. My eyes cut back to his, only for me to bear witness to a large smirk and the loud mischief lurking in his beautiful irises. ‘Behave, my truest.’ He teased inside my head.

‘I would have thought my master would like my naughtiness?’ I quipped, immediately receiving a pleasure full growl back as I finally stand before him. He gazes at me for a long moment before his eyes harden towards my papa. He wants papa to hand me over quickly, and thankfully my papa takes the silent demand in stride.

My papa guides my body to up the 2 steps to my lord and I hastily stretch my hand out, and the master snaps his hand out to clasp mine softly, yet tightly in his hand. His pulls my body up against his side and nuzzles his nose into my right temple, his lips just barely caressing my hairline. I relax and lean into the intimate display of affection before he slowly pulls back. He lets out a pleased sigh as he looks to the priest and gives the man a commanding nod to commence with the vows.

“Do you, Lord Walter De Ville, take Lady (Y/N) Castellan to be your lady and wife; commencing from this day forth for all eternity?” The priest asked.

“I do, absolutely.” He longingly states, whilst gazing into my golden eyes with unadulterated rapture.

“And do you, Lady (Y/N) Castellan, take Lord Walter De Ville to be your lord and husband; commencing from this day forth for all eternity?”

“I do, with all my heart.” I saying without any trace of hesitation, my damp golden eyes never straying from Walter’s intense stare.

Walter smiles at me as he releases my hand from his, to quickly drag his left index claw down the inside of his right wrist. He sweetly caresses the right side of my hair, pushing it out of the way, with his fingers as he pushes his bleeding wrist up to my lips.

“Here, my truest. Drink to your heart’s content…” He whispers, somewhat desperately with anticipation. I gently grasp his wrist in both my hands, as I swiftly wrap my lips around the wound and begin drinking. It so warm and sickening sweet, and I can’t get enough of it. I start to suck hard as I feel the need and desire pull in my nether regions, and the pleasure threatens to slip over as I teeter on the edge of ecstasy.

The same ecstasy I felt that night after the starlight ball, when he pulled me through the gardens and pinned me to a statue in a secluded area. He kissed with such passion that it was all devouring and suffocating, and I never wanted to stop. Certainly not when he pushed my dress upwards and wrapped one of my legs around his waist to grind his hard length against my heat. Most definitely not when he shoved his fingers into my smalls to caress my drenched wetness. I wanted to cry out into his wrist now, the very same way I cried out and whimpered into his mouth that night in the garden.

His low moan pulled me from my memory as I cast a side glance to his face only to feel my mouth grow slack at the sight before me. His face contorted in pure pleasure as he tilted his head back and his mouth falls open in another sinful moan. His beautiful fangs peaking through causing me to feel a warm fuzziness in my bosom and a slickness to gather in my smalls. He pulls his head back down to look at me as I once more tighten my jaws around his wrist.

He lovingly cradled the back of my head as he nuzzled into my hair, sending shivers all the way from the top of my spine to the base of it, as I feel him pant a moan into my ear. “Very good, my truest. Our eternity is just within our reach.”

I can feel it beginning to spread throughout my entire body and finally release his bloody wrist from my lips. It feels like nothing and everything at the same time. I couldn’t decide if the pain was hellish or heavenly. It was chasing to keep up with the blood rushing through my veins while my heart began to fall behind. Then, the dull ache set into my teeth and nails, feeling both grow and elongate in length. Then everything and nothing froze in place. My heart gave one last weak and long thump. The feeling of my heart stilling with its cage of bones was irrelevant compared to the feeling I receive when my eyes startle open to rest on my newlywed husband.

His eyes gave me a inquisitive and tense once over before he laughed and dove down to capture my lips within his. Cheers and applause sounded throughout the dim-lighted church and it was then I remembered that it wasn’t just the two of us. That fact didn’t even matter then, especially when my lord love pressed his tongue pass my lips and fledgling fangs to deepen the kiss and taste his essence coat the inside my mouth.

We reluctantly pulled from one another to stand and face our subjects. They all bore smiles, some fake I’m sure, but for the most part seemed genuine. I could respect Lady Victoria for that at least. She didn’t hide her true feelings behind pretty words and false smiles about the Master and I’s marriage. Her face twisting even more in disdain and envy with the Master’s next words, that he never once uttered for her.

“Hail my wife and queen, Lady (Y/N) de Ville!” He roars, soaking in the cheers and applause of our subjects. He looks to me once more with a victorious smile, whilst cupping my jaw in his hand and places a domineering kiss on my lips. I cannot help but press myself into his side and keen in wanton delight as I savor the taste of his lips and blood.

He hovers his smiling lips over mine and playfully nips at them, “Forever and always my truest love. Let it be my unbreakable vow from my soul to yours.”

“Forever and always, my king.” I swore back in hushed tone.

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