#so i'll certainly struggle quite a bit until i get a hang on this

[whumpflash]

Penumbra: Unrest

For Angstpril, Day 3: No Escape

cw: torture

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The first night had been fruitless, but Nisha was undeterred. It was their own fault, really. They'd been too enthusiastic with the rod, aggravating wounds and eventually just beating Cerus with it. The former king had passed out before Nisha even got around to removing the bit.

Today they'd be a little more deliberate.

After dusk, they made the journey down the stairs. Forty-eight hours since their last visit, carefully counted. Guards had been instructed to watch over Cerus and ensure he did not sleep. A job they'd managed quite well, Nisha saw, as they entered the cell to find the prisoner had changed position, now hanging from his wrists. The runed cuff was still in place on his forearm.

Perhaps the Shadow King would already be in a talking mood. Nisha unfastened the iron bit and pulled it from the prisoner's mouth, watching as the man's jaw shifted, clenching and unclenching. Likely the first true free movement he'd been granted since his capture.

A stream of hoarse words in a foreign tongue poured from Cerus's mouth not twelve seconds after the bit's removal, the rhythm and enunciation too precise to be anything but an attempt at a spell.

Nisha took a step back, preparing to reach for their weapon if the need arose, but the runed cuff held true, momentarily glowing a dull violet. Cerus let out a hiss of pain at the cuff's activation, quickly ceasing his incantation.

"I see you're well and prepared then, traitor," he said in the same cracked voice. "What will you have with me?"

"Only the truth," Nisha replied.

"And how will you get it? Through more blows? Another sleepless night?"

"If that's what it takes, but tonight I brought water," Nisha said. "I can offer you peace. A swift death."

"A pittance. I will take nothing from swine like you."

It was almost entertaining. As trapped, as helpless as he was, Cerus's pride remained intact. Nisha wondered what it would take to truly break him. To make him beg. They looked forward to finding out.

"Very well," Nisha said, moving to the wall of tools, eyeing them carefully. "I suppose we'll go with your first idea then. Blows and sleepless nights."

They selected a whip from the wall. Certainly not as precise as a thumbscrew or a knife, or even a meticulous magical torture, but there would be time for those later. Holding it coiled in one hand, they moved around to face Cerus's back.

It looked like some of the guards had already taken liberties. Fresh welts spread over the back of the chained man's thighs, and new bruises mottled his ribs, shoulders, and hips, some of which had been left by Nisha's own hand. 

The realm maintained laws against deliberate harm to a wounded man; even a prisoner under interrogation had the right to recuperate between sessions. But Cerus was more monster than man, and so it was with a clean conscience that Nisha delivered the first strike.

Cerus bit back a scream, his body spasming under the lash. Nisha gave him little time to recover, bringing the whip down again and again in an erratic rhythm. It wasn't until fatigue had begun to set in that they stopped, leaving Cerus's body bleeding and shuddering, slumped as far as the chains would allow.

Satisfied with their work, Nisha circled around to face the Dark King, reaching out to remove his blindfold with a none-too-gentle hand.

Cerus's eyelids fluttered as the cloth came away, red-rimmed grey eyes glaring up at Nisha. It was a wonder he hadn't passed out.

"I'll remember your face when I free myself from this prison," Cerus muttered in a voice tinged with pain. "Your death will be a slow one."

Nisha only smiled in response. "I will see you tomorrow," they said, replacing the blindfold, and then the iron bit. Cerus struggled against both, but in the end there was nothing he could do. Nisha took the bloodied whip with them to be cleaned, and set out to find a healer.

Cerus couldn't be allowed to bleed out.

They were only getting started.

@whumpwillow @rabbitdrabbles

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#angstpril2023 #day 3 #fic #no escape #whump writing #villain whump #villain whumpee #tw torture #whipping tw #penumbra: shadow king #fantasy whump #royal whumpee #a bit short sorry

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

Hi! Could I request a slasher matchup please? - I'm a 5'9" cisfem, aegosexual and bisexual, plus sized, 2c dirty blond haired, pasty skinned autistic ball of nerves.

I am slightly nearsighted and have glasses, though I tend to forget to wear them. Sometimes "losing" them on my own head.

I have very low self-esteem and a self deprecating sense of humor.

I manage to be both touch adverse and touch starved.

Due to being raised by an entire family of narcissists, whenever I tried to speak they'd interrupt me or complain about me talking too much or too loudly. So I'm usually pretty silent unless you can get me started on something I'm passionate about.

Most of the time when I do speak, my words get muddled up. I especially struggle with words that have R in the middle of them.

I wouldn't suggest making sudden movements in my peripheral vision or just in general when you're standing close to me. I will jerk away from you and will be on edge for a bit afterwards.

I frequently get lost in daydreams.

If I get hyperfocused on something, I'll go the entire day without remembering to eat or drink anything.

That being said, one of my stims is eating. Particularly foods I call hand to mouth like grapes or m&ms. Which is how I got to be plus sized, though my hypothyroidism certainly doesn't help. So I try to keep myself, particularly my hands, busy.

I like crafting things and baking, not that I'm good at either.

I cannot tolerate the feeling of water on my forearms/elbows. Or have wet clothing on.

I'm very clumsy, frequently tripping over my own furniture. (and feet) I will always have at least one bruise on my body and it's unlikely I can tell you how I got it.

I'm quiet, reserved and thoughtful. I prefer to socialize with a small group of close friends that I share common interests and connections with.

I enjoy thinking about theoretical concepts.

I tend to be flexible and good at thinking "outside of the box."

I am constantly trying to understand how things work. I like to break down larger things or ideas to look at the individual components to see how things fit and function together.

I often go over what I know, seeking patterns until I can achieve a flash of inspiration or insight into the problem.  

I can be quite outgoing, warm and friendly when I am around people with who I am familiar and comfortable.

I am often uncertain and will seek multiple sources of confirmation before making a decision. I will not disclose my own opinion unless triggered by anger.

I'm very much conflict averse but will jump into a confrontation if someone is messing with someone I care about. Or if my anxiety causes me to snap.

I match you with...

Lester Sinclair!

You two are like a match made in heaven 

He loves you so much, chub and all. 

He’ll do anything for you, all you gotta do is ask. You ask him to help you find your glasses? Of course! They’re on your head? That’s fine, he’ll gently take them off and put them back on you with a kiss on the cheek. 

He also has a self-deprecating sense of humor but won’t hesitate to tell you how perfect you are and how much he loves you if you make a self-deprecating joke that seems a little too serious. He loves you dearly and doesn’t want you to see yourself as less than amazing. 

He loves hearing you talk, even about the, seemingly, most stupid things. won’t judge you if you muddle up your words, he just acts like it never happened. If you get frustrated, however, he’ll try to calm you down and re-assure you that it’s alright and he understood what you meant

Will definitely try to make sure that you know when he’s coming up behind you, whether it’s him calling out to you or making some sort of noise

Will help you keep your hands busy, whether it’s making crafts or baking or any other things. He also loves baking and crafting and is also not good at them either. It’s a learning and bonding experience, so he doesn’t particularly care how it comes out, as long as he gets to hang out with you

when he finds out how much you dislike the feeling of wet clothes, he starts bringing an extra pair with him everywhere. He never wants you to feel uncomfortable.

He’ll take care of any bruises you get, no questions asked. He’s seen you in your peak clumsiness and can probably guess where you got them

He’s gonna listen to you, no matter what it is you’re talking about. You could be saying that aliens are gonna invade mars and he’d sit there with the most loving look in his eyes. 

No matter what it is you’re doing, if you want to talk to him about it and get his opinions on it, he’ll be very honest with you. Even if he has no idea, he’ll take you over to Vincent or Bo if he thinks they’ll be able to help you better. 

#matchups! #bean writes #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #Lester Sinclair x you

[whythewords]

Days 327 - 339: Patterns

Where to begin? I went to a wedding this past weekend and admittedly had a great time, but I'm starting to get really concerned that it was a small glimmer of joy in an otherwise really bleak couple of weeks.

I thought the end of the term would be joyful (albeit a bit difficult) but I'm being hit hard with a lot of not great feelings. There's some bad energy that's not necessarily a result of the stress from the last few assignments and exams (though that certainly doesn't help) but seems to be more likely a culmination of all the bad feelings I've spoken about here over the course of this year, coupled with my worries for the future. The whole "what will I do after this?" conversation is a little scary. There's some excitement in there too for sure, but it's still scary.

I can't quite explain it, but all the bad feelings I've struggled with over the course of this year seem to be all of a sudden just fucking amplified over these last few days. The loneliness and desire for companionship is hitting really fucking hard, and that fact is betrayed by my own behaviour over the last little while. I deleted the dating apps after the last unsuccessful stint and I feel both afraid of them and exhausted by them. And of that unsuccessful stint: the girl I was talking to popped back up after almost two weeks, apologizing for being absent saying things had just gotten a little busy/intense. My first instinct/reaction was excitement. "Another chance at this! Let's see what happens."

I realized not too much later that my excitement about the very prospect of it was gone. I had spent the time resolving myself to the fact that this little back and forth we had was over and it was time to move on. That feeling of finality never quite went away. Now we're back in a weird limbo where we haven't spoken in a few days (once again with me sending the last volley of messages) and the only thing that I really care about now to some extent is closure. She even made it clear she was hanging out with someone else quite a bit...so like what the fuck am I doing? Hindsight being 20/20, I wish that as soon as I had learned that I had just said "hey, that's great, let's just call a spade a spade and move on for now, best of luck, hope you find what you were looking for, etc." But I didn't, and now I feel like I'm still a small part of something I maybe wasn't even fucking ready for in the first place. And all this has done is make the loneliness that much more fucking apparent. Ugh.

And in the least sense-making counterpoint to that whole thing, the other big emotion that has been smacking me around these last few days is this insatiable desire for independence. It's just seemingly getting worse and worse. I fucking hate being here in this apartment, and I have never hated it more. My relationship with my dad feels more strained than ever. Also, with it being wintertime and us all still sharing one car since my folks' accident, there is nary a single moment of privacy to be had anymore. Cold weather means everyone goes into hermit mode. The couple of hours that I do occasionally get to myself are still mostly being spent on homework and studying. I haven't booked the Japan trip yet and I even briefly considered cancelling it completely because I stupidly looked at houses and apartments thinking that might cheer me up a little.

Every place worth a damn has an average estimated monthly mortgage payment that looks daunting as fuck. It sends me into a panic of punching in numbers on a calculator and looking at how much I would realistically be able to save, and invariably ends with me silently screaming about the fact that it seems like I'm going to be living with my folks for another year, two years, longer....and I don't think I'll be ready to fully jump back into dating until I get back out on my own.

...and the cycle continues.

I've alluded to this already but, man it feels bad to feel like I'm back where I started. But I know I'm not.

I KNOW how ridiculous that sounds. I'm in a different place. I'm smarter. I'm more in tune with what it is I want. Not as in tune as I want to be but definitely a bit moreso than I was before.

I dunno man. It's just hard. It's really fucking hard. And I know it'll get easier but...I want it to be easy now. And I know it doesn't work like that and I know I have to keep fighting but FUCK man...I'm tired.

In a couple of weeks I'll be done school. And it'll be my birthday. My folks are graciously heading out for the evening to allow me to have a VERY small version of my annual house-bound acoustic show for a few friends who live in the area, because the condo can only fit so many people.

It'll be a pared down, somehow even more intimate version of an already tiny little show that I've been doing since 2009 (only missing 2020 when COVID was in full effect).

These little events like parties, gatherings, occasionally seeing friends or hanging with my brother, they've been nice....but for the last little bit they've only really felt like temporary breaks from the otherwise constant hum of ennui and despair that I've been experiencing. I'm hoping that the next break is a break in the pattern...because right now the pattern is fucking awful.

Said it once, I'll say it again: Somehow I made it this far. May as well try to keep going.

'Til next time.

#life of joe #not so daily journal

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kurt Kelly x Fem!Bitch!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Someone Gets Hurt

Plot: Some little wannabe steals away your boyfriend, Kurt, while also batting her big ass lashes and winning over your friends, too... until you've had enough. No one out bitches you.

Notes:

Obviously, this is inspired by Someone Gets Hurt from Mean Girls except with Regina (The reader) as the heroine.

Warnings: Overall bitchiness, possessiveness (You about Kurt), break ups (Make ups too though so its not too bad ^^), the ruining of another persons relationship (Random girl Lizzie and Kurt's), rapeiness (Ram), sexual references, underage drinking, overage drinking, just LOTS of debauchery over all, a smut bit near the end (Not full), etc.

Was I too proud with you? Was I too cold and forbidding? And you chose her over me Are you kidding?

Watching Kurt and Lizzie together this week has been torture. Terrible, burning, squeezing, not-at-all sexy torture.

Because Kurt, is yours.

He has always been yours. He was yours in kindergarten, he was yours in middle school, and he was yours all through highschool until this, unfortunate and butt fucking ugly, snag. Crossing your arms now and poisoning them with your eyes, you sit in the cafeteria... and think.

Just, think.

You don't gossip with your minions about all the bullshit going on in school, you don't discuss what you're going to do to the freshmen this year, no. Nothing. You're too busy... plotting.

There is no way in hell, that this pee-brained virgin bitch is going to steal your boyfriend, and not get paid back in turn. Its only fair- and you include interest, in your transactions like this.

One eye actually twitches, when Lizzie... the pee brained virgin bitch in question, gives Kurt a peck on the nose - oh so cute, but you don't even have to look at Kurt to see the disappointment flash in his eyes, - and hops off his lap when the bell rings. He has a free period now, you know because so do you and you usually spend it at the back of the football field together, but she has Chemistry, a thing you also know because hell- you just know everything. That's a basic fact. The whole school knows it and love that you never have to explain how you just fucking know shit.

But even being all knowing does not make you feel better, knowing that itty bitty roach-cunt has her claws embedded in your poor, weak-willed... ex boyfriends,... heart. Or his penis, more likely. Metaphorically speaking, obviously, because Lizzie's the 'Mary'est whore in the land of Westerberg High.

That doesn't really matter though. Either way, he's with her now and not you, and that just wont do.

Maggie, your right hand babe, gets up from your lunch table and leaves for her next class, too. And its only until she's out of sight, that you notice the piece of paper she left behind. Rolling your eyes, a growl of annoyance escapes you and you sigh- turning away from Kurt and Ram's table to see what the fuck it is. The reprieve is almost palpable, not looking at him anymore. It feels a little better- but not by much. And certainly not enough for you to forget what fuckery is going on.

Picking up the piece of paper in one perfectly manicured hand, you see that its an invitation. "Hmm... " Worrying the inside of your cheek, you think; This is interesting.

A Halloween party...

A gleeful smirk quirks slightly at the corners of your lips.

Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween.

~

And what you meant by 'Kurt always did have a thing for Halloween'- is 'Kurt always did have a boner for your Halloween costumes'. For the past several years, since the two of you blossomed with the help of puberty, you have used your assets as an advantage - because why else have them? - ; With the help of lace tights, push up bra's, winged eyeliner and red lipstick.

This year you've pulled together your favourite costume yet, which is fitting for the task at hand and the fact that its senior year- this may be your last chance to put these bottom dwelling highschool chuckleheads in their place.

I mean, you hope not but its basically a given.

Looking around the party as you walk in, you figure its just the same as any party Ram has thrown before. And his house is perfect for it, you'll give him that. The lights a turned down low enough that everyone looks a little hot, cooler's full of ice and alcohol are set up so you're never too far from a fix and thanks to his houses sound system the music is loud enough to make you think for a couple hours that you're in a place between reality and your dreams; A perfect set up for mistakes and one wild night.

But you aren't here to get drunk and kiss a loser, except for Kurt; You're here to take back the goddamn crown. Which getting Kurt back, will do. It'll humiliate Lizzie, and that's really all you want out of life right now.

Prowling through the crowd - which still knows to part for you, despite your current, slightly lower social standing, - in your knee high, shiny black leather boots, you look for someone to talk to. You know Maggie's here somewhere but that bitch is on her last life with you, after she said Lizzie's hair looked nice the other day. And you think some silent treatment will set her straight.

"Oh- Hi Ram." You find the host in the backyard, about to push an unsuspecting demoness into in a very sheer red blouse into the pool - which would doubtlessly make the blouse more of a red tint to her skin rather then any kind of coverage, which Ram well knows, - , and he double takes when he sees you. A sleazy, mischievous grin slops over his face at the sight, which makes you roll your eyes.

Deeply.

"Ohhh, heyyyy, Y/N!" He has to yell over the sound of the music and the other party-goers, not that you would mind if you didn't hear anything he said. He hasn't got a whole lot of substance, Ram, so you can basically assume that rolling your eyes is always the answer to anything he's saying. His eyes shift back, anxiously, to the girl he's currently got a hit out on, but you just raise your eyebrows sharply at him and he's at attention. "I didn't know you were gonna come! You know, with the state of things... "

Oh, he's so obnoxious. And dumb! So, so dumb. He doesn't know the half of your shit. Yet he still runs his mouth... Rolling your eyes once again, you flip some hair behind your head. "Oh don't worry your pretty little head about that, Ram." Eyes flickering around the party some more, searching for your own target, you rest your hands on your hips that are tightly bound, in various layers of violet georgette cloth. The witches hat on your head is pinned down, so theirs no chance of it flying off. You have a train of thinner fabric hanging down the back of your short-short skirt, and your tight tube top reveals exactly the shapes you require it to. "I'll be perfectly fine- oh, have you seen Kurt anywhere?"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh I think I saw him and Liz against a wall earlier- but by the looks of Liz, I doubt they're in a situation like that anymore." He chuckles, dumbly. The stupid boy has a slur in his voice that you hadn't noticed before but probably should've known would be there. But you're sure focusing in on him now, jealousy burning in your eyes at his description. What does that mean??

"What?"

A geek walks by, toting a bottle in his hands that Ram snatches for himself. As the kid continues by, faster now due to the angry look in Ram's eyes and the animalistic growl that slips from the footballers lips, you continue to glare bullets at Ram. He takes a messy swig of his beer before continuing. "Just sayin', Y/N. Your friend's a prude. Won' even let Kurt get to second base with 'er or anything. So I'd say Kurt's, probably, uhhh... by the pool table, now." He shrugs big round shoulders then, as relief and mirth wash over you. So he didn't mean they'd have moved their dirty little adventure to somewhere they could really get down, or anything. He means quite the opposite.

A smirk graces your red painted lips.

"Well- enjoy your party." You shrug, not really caring as his eyes shine... turning back to the demon girl who's just laughing with her friends; He sure will. Eyes narrowing, you mutter a bitter "Dick." under your breath, as a final bid to Ram.

Turning on your heel, you head back into the house. You've been here plenty of times with Kurt and know exactly where the pool table is (And how uncomfortable it is to be bent over) and sure enough- there he is.

Your boyfriend.

Or, soon-to-be, once-again boyfriend.

He's standing back with a stick, waiting for his turn as he laughs with some over football boneheads. Lizzie isn't here, but you suppose she could have gone to get a drink or talk to one her - your, - friends, but where she is actually doesn't concern your in this moment. All you can do right now, is stand and stare.

God, he's hot.

You miss him; You really do. And, admittedly- not just because he can fuck you like no one else.

But your moment passes, and you gather your wits. Ready.

You're hot, you're smart, and you're ruthless. You can do this.

Saddling up beside Kurt, a genuine smile slips across your face as you look up at him; Running a hand back through your hair. "Hey, Kurt." Slightly widening your eyes, you raise a brow as he turns to look down at you. "What's up?"

Like- its been a while. What have I missed?

Immediate 'Oooooh's and 'Oh no the ex- Kurt watch out!'s erupt from his meathead athlete friends, but what you care about is how Kurt struggles for a moment to tear his eyes away from yours, like the eyeliner you perfected and the colour and the just- you, has hypnotised him. He flashes his friends a wicked grin, waiving them off as he turns to put his body between you, and the group. It puts you so close together- and you sure don't step back any.

Then his eyes flicker down to the rest of you- and he really has a problem looking away. "Oh, uh, hey Y/N. N-nothing much. Uh... you look... "

A gentle chuckle flutters out of you, resting a hand on your right hip. "What? Black cat caught your tongue?"

Jesus- even the mention of that particular muscle reference to him does something to you. And being this close to him again, and seeing his reaction to your outfit... its all just so right. The way things should be.

He opens his mouth to say something else, but immediately closes it again on remembering something. A seriously awkward hm sound escapes him which you don't quite get yet, but you decide that you don't need to.

"So... " You start, getting rid of the tough bravado suddenly... letting awkwardness seep into your tone; Your appearance. On purpose. Eyes downcast, you let your arms slide down to your sides again, lacing your fingers together in front of you for a moment, pretending you're at a loss for words. "Um... maybe this is... weird... "

"What?" A big hand ghosts over your hip- you can just feel his skin graze against you.

You look up to catch his gaze again suddenly, lips and eyebrows scrunching after a moment, unsurely. "Uh, well... " Chewing innocently on your bottom lip, you hold your arms behind your back; not-at-all meaning to push out your chest more. No, not at all... "Me coming up to talk to you... since the break up... "

A hiss escapes him, as he suddenly, seemingly, like just seeing you had him returning to old habits, remembers that fact himself and takes a step back from you. Your brows knit together, up at him- perfectly pitiful.

"Oh man- yeah. Maybe. Fuck!" He runs a hand up through his hair, looking convincingly tortured.

Already!

You could rejoice.

Oh, Kurt... we've only just started.

Sighing, you look away again. "Look, I'm sorry. I just... well, Kurt, I've missed you!"

Suddenly his eyes, still and focused, turn more sternly down on you and your insides squirm at it. Like muscle memory, your body screams for you to back up; Get on your knees, bat your lashes. Ask what's wrong, Daddy?

His eyes narrow, and you resist the temptation to smirk. "Oh- no. No, Y/N. I know what you're doing, okay? I'm not dumb! This is all just too... too... " The fact that he cant even really speak, even as he's trying to be all tough and put up walls between you two, really gives you confidence. You must still really have an effect on him- as you should. Of course you do. One week with a little lily livered slut bag does not erase an entire lifetime between two people. Kurts lips curl into a scowl. "You're not like this." He states, and you raise your brows. Oh? "You're manipulating me, aren't you? Come on, Y/N!"

His tone is pleading. He's begging, you.

Damn, he must really want Miss Lizzie's little ass.

After a moment, you shrug. "Okay, whatever, you got me." Shedding the innocent act, you lean back on the pool table as the boys continue to play; Laying yourself out for him. "Does that mean I was lying? No, I really do miss you."

He scoffs. "Yeah, right." Rolling his own eyes, he focuses his gaze off somewhere else in the party- rather then on you. "All you care about is your reign of terror."

Oh... he knows that's not true.

But still, if he's going to play that way- "Yeah, sure- and all you care about is pussy." Shrugging, you drum your fingers bordly against the edge of the table on either side of you. "I guess we're a pair."

"Fuck, Y/N... you know you're... y-you're... Damn, that I love you. You fucking know that." He hisses, getting mad. And you inwardly smirk.

There it is...

Tightening your grip now, you look up at him to see he's once again looking at you. And for a moment, amongst all the madness that party's are- it feels like its just you two. "And you know... I love you."

Pushing off the pool table, you stalk towards him and trace your hands up his chest; Locking your arms around his neck lazily, and resting your chest against his. And you can see it. You can see, the struggle inside him about whether to just give into you- and your tits and your lips and your hips, and- just, you! Or to stay away. Because you're poison; Even you're well aware of that fact.

You're like a boa constrictor. You get yourself wrapped around your victim and you squeeze, and squeeze, and squeeze... until you have them just how you want them. Moulded into a shape that works well, for you.

But he's a lion. Imposing, and selfish, and self serving. And too big for you to ruin.

Its like you said; You're a pair.

And you cannot give him up.

"Kurt... come on." Leaning up, and talking in a quiet, just-for-him voice now, your lips brush against his and he lets out a shuddering breath. "We belong together, don't we? Its us- forever. You've known it since second grade. Sure, it took me a few more years to realise it too, but we're here now." Sincerity bleeds into your tone; Something you can't help when he looks like he wants to kiss you so badly, like that. "It can't be you and her." It cant. Tilting your head to the side, teasingly, you smirk mischievously; Just for him. "Is she going to fuck you like I do?"

"Shit... " Kurt mutters, eyes stuck on your lips. His hands find your waist, gathering you up against him roughly like he always does when he just wants you. Animalistically, wherever you are- whoever sees be fucking damned.

But he still isn't taking you. And that's a problem.

Brushing a thumb over his bottom lip, you turn your head like your making out to kiss him- but don't. Furrowing your eyebrows, you look pleading at him for an answer. "Was it all a lie, then? With us? Were we?- "

And that does it- he's had enough- he's at boiling point- Lips smash into yours, crossing the centimetre of space between them and he doesn't fuss around at all, to warm up. Your tongues connect almost instantly, and in 0.2 seconds, you two are that moaning, making out mess couple that every party has.

Through your lust filled haze, you can just about feel victorious.

A few moments after that your back hits the closest wall, and your legs wrap around his waist as he holds you up- you two know the drill by now. Kurt's grinding his raging hard on deliciously through his jeans into your bare cunt- moaning and muttering something into your cheek as he sloppily makes his way down to your breasts about you being such a slut.

You REALLY don't mind.

Eyes half lidded, you catch sight of Lizzie in the crowd behind Kurt. The crowd that, apart from her, doesn't care at all what the two of you are doing.

You smirk absolutely evilly towards her, before mouthing 'mine'.

#Kurt Kelly x Reader #Kurt Kelly x Fem!Reader #Bitch Reader #Mean Girl Reader #Mean Girls #Mean Girls the Musical #Heathers #Heathers x Reader #Kurt Kelly x Reader Oneshot #Ram Sweeney

[waywardfangirl]

For the fantastic @fight-surrender: You are a wonderful person with a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and I am so happy to know you! I really enjoyed the prompts you suggested for the Secret Snowflake exchange this year, so to give you something fluffy and happy for your birthday I combined a few of them into one sweet and silly fic - I hope that you like it! 🖤

A big thank you goes out to @carryonvisinata for her wonderful beta work and for making this fic even better for such an incredible friend 🖤 Purr-fect Strangers

Rated: General Audiences Word Count: 3208 Chapters: 1/1 Simon

"Die Hard? Really?"

I'm struggling to make the Redbox give me my DVD. Video vending machines sounded like a good idea when I couldn't find anywhere to stream my favorite movie, but the obstinate thing in front of me and the condescending voice behind me are now making me reconsider my choices.

"What's wrong with Die Hard?" I demand, momentarily giving up on retrieving my video to take some of my frustration out on the prick watching me.

Unfortunately, when I turn around to scowl at him, I make eye contact with one of the most attractive people I've ever seen. He's tall, with dark hair escaping the bun on top of his head and falling around his face, and a perfectly tailored suit hugging every inch of his body right on down to his shiny Chelsea boots. My brain shorts out, and he sneers at me.

"There’s nothing wrong with it, per se. But you have a near unlimited assortment of cinema to choose from, and you've selected Die Hard?"

(Read the rest on ao3, or keep reading here)

I scoff.

"Look, mate, some of us don't feel the need to watch pretentious films just to feel better than other people. I like Die Hard. I'm going to watch it while eating pizza and relaxing in joggers, and I refuse to feel bad about enjoying that."

He looks a bit startled, and his cheeks take on a slightly pink tinge, but he just arches an eyebrow at me. (And manages to make that look unfairly hot too, the prat.)

"What movie are you renting?" I say it like a challenge, and he pushes past me.

He deftly removes my DVD from the stubborn machine and thrusts it at me, before turning back around to get his own. I loiter behind him, just like he did to me, ready to see what movie he thinks is better than Die Hard.

"Two Weeks Notice?" I exclaim, when I see the poster pop up on the screen. "You're ridiculing Die Hard, but getting a rom-com for yourself? Unbelievable."

He pushes past me and turns up his nose. My blood boils for so many different reasons, and it's work to hold myself still.

"This has Hugh Grant in it. My tastes are superior."

Then he swans off, and I'm left standing on the kerb.

Baz

A year into my time at university, I started treating myself to a monthly visit to Sephora. It was easily excusable then, with parties every weekend to justify each new purchase, but I've kept up the tradition since graduating. (Retail therapy and good skin care never hurt anyone. And a little eyeliner does wonders for one's self esteem.)

This month, I'm browsing for something sparkly. My eyes are grey, but with a dark, glittery liner I think they might stand out a little more. I'm just testing one of the pencils on the back of my hand when I see him.

Blond hair, plain blue eyes, and a constellation of freckles and moles across his skin. The most lovely man I have ever seen, with the worst taste in movies, and (I'm sure) a well-deserved hatred for me.

For all that I try to appear cool and confident, my facade sometimes fails me. When I get flustered, I become cruel. The man renting Die Hard was so pretty that all I could do was insult him and then curse myself for it the entire way home. I couldn't even properly enjoy Hugh Grant, as mired as I was in self-loathing. And now, whatever second chance to impress him I've been granted with has surely been ruined by my actions last time.

I keep my head down and steal glances at him through my eyelashes.

He is entirely out of his element, that much is obvious right away. I watch him ask one of the shop assistants for help, and she points him in the direction of a display. His brow furrows as he picks up different containers, and he’s ridiculously precious and hopeless as he holds a lipstick tube next to a garish eyeshadow palette and closes one eye to look at them. (What is he even doing?)

Finally, his confusion seems to win out, and he turns to look around for help, when he suddenly spots me. I've been caught out; I can't pretend now like I haven't been staring, and he scowls a little as we make eye contact. I arch an eyebrow, watch as his face grows pink in anger, and decide I hate myself enough to try talking to him again.

"That's really not your shade."

"What?" It's a simple word, horribly enunciated, and does nothing to quell the wrinkle between his eyes.

"The purple. I don't think it would flatter you. Furthermore, that lipstick clashes horribly with every color in that palette."

He turns a bright red and starts to splutter. I am hopelessly endeared.

"That's not- I, I don't- it isn't-"

"Oh, calm down, there's nothing wrong with wearing makeup," I say, flashing him the back of my hand with the eyeliner tests on it. "You just need to pick a better shade." I pluck a different palette (for blue eyes) and a lipstick in a true red from the display and hand them over. "Something like this."

He stares at them dumbly for a moment, his mouth hanging open. (Mouth breather.)

"You think I should wear this?"

"I think it would flatter you if you chose to wear makeup. That purple will do you no favors." I sneer at the garish eyeshadow still in his hand.

"It's for my friend!" he finally bursts out.

"Are you mad at her?" It's a reasonable question, that eyeshadow is truly appalling.

"No? It's her birthday next week, and she said that she wanted to have some makeup for date nights and things."

"Are you in love with her?"

"No!" No hesitation at all. "No, no way. Penny is like my sister. She's my best friend. We're not…" he trails off, and I'm strangely reassured. He still probably hates me, but at least there is one woman in the world that he’s not dating, so my odds have improved marginally.

"Don't get your pants in a twist. I just thought you might be, since that eyeshadow would certainly drive away her current boyfriend."

He sticks out his chin and seems to decide something.

"Fine. What should I get for her, then?" The “if you know so much” is left unsaid.

I'm not really an expert, despite my monthly purchases, but I'll take any excuse I can get to linger around this starburst of a boy for a few moments more.

"Does she wear makeup normally?" He shakes his head no. "Then perhaps start with something more subtle for her." I take the offending palette away and hand him a more subdued one, with a faint shimmer. "Do you think this would look nice on her?"

He thinks hard for a moment, then pulls out his phone, swiping at the lock screen and turning it to face me.

"This is her."

His home screen background is a picture of the two of them, cheeks pressed together and grinning like crazy under the summer sun. His curls are being tossed by the wind, and he looks like a bronze Adonis. I think my heart actually skips a beat at the sight.

"That palette will be fine then. This lipstick, too," I add, handing him a plum shade. "Do you need anything else?" I ask, and then cringe when I sound like I'm working instead of flirting.

He shakes his head.

"No, this is brilliant, thanks."

He still looks a bit confused, and he bites his lip as he looks down at the makeup in his hand - the makeup for his friend, and the things I picked out for him.

I don't want to go, but I can't figure out any way to prolong our conversation.

"You should get that one," he says, pointing to one of the lines on my hand. I raise an eyebrow in question. He's right, but what does this mean? Is he flirting? Does he want me to wear eyeliner? Is he just trying to repay me for helping him? "Yeah. Definitely that one."

He raps his knuckles on the counter beside us twice, and then wanders towards the check out.

It's not until I'm trying to fall asleep that I realize - he bought the makeup for himself too.

Simon

One of my foster fathers had a workshop, and I spent a happy summer watching him build a table and matching chairs for the dining room. I didn't get to stay to see it completed, because one of his biological children kept stealing money out of his mom's purse and blaming me, but I still enjoyed the time I had spent watching woodworking. I liked it so much that when Penny and I graduated and got a flat together, I saved up to buy a few tools. I don't make anything major, but I've built small shelves and a side table and a pan organizer for the flat, and I really like it.

Recently, Penny has been complaining about not being able to reach everything in the kitchen, so while she's still at work I stop by the B&Q to pick up some wood for a step stool. I'm heading to the check out when I see him - the mean makeup guy. (Although he was actually quite nice when we were talking about makeup. He was just rude when we were getting our movies.)

He's dressed casually today, in tight dark jeans and a warm grey sweater, with his hair falling in loose waves around his face. He's glaring down at two wrenches, and I hate that he still looks so good when he's glowering.

Before I even register what's happening, my feet have carried me over to him.

"D'ya need help?"

He startles, and turns lovely grey eyes up to look at me. It's work not to gasp. He’s wearing eyeliner. I'm not entirely sure, but I think it may even be the eyeliner I told him to buy.

"The sink in my kitchen is leaking. I watched a tutorial on YouTube, and it should be easy enough to fix, but I don't have the proper tools."

He goes back to glaring at the wrenches, and I lean over to take a look.

“You want that one.”

“Why? How do you know?”

“Well, it’s adjustable. You can change it within reason, so as long as your plumbing isn’t something incredibly out of the ordinary it should fit just fine.”

He looks surprised (and maybe a bit like he wants to attack me, although I try to ignore that).

“How do you know that?”

I laugh.

“Basic home maintenance, mate, I’ve had to fix a leaky sink before too, believe it or not.”

I grin at him until one corner of his mouth tips upward in response.

“Thanks,” he says, his cheeks flushing a little. “I’ll get this one then. Yes. Thank you. Have a nice evening.”

He strides off, once again leaving me feeling a bit dazed.

He looks really good in eyeliner.

Baz

When Fiona discovered I hadn’t left the apartment in a week, she called in the cavalry. Daphne showed up at my door with a casserole and some flowers, and within minutes she had the kitchen feeling like a place that was less utility space and more home.

“Basil, Fiona is worried about you.” I rolled my eyes, despite knowing it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “I’m worried about you, too. You spend so much time by yourself, and you hardly ever go out to see your friends or enjoy the city.”

“I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”

“Basil,” she had said, and that time it was a warning. “It’s not healthy for anyone to spend this much time alone.”

“What, do you expect me to get a cat?”

Daphne smiled, and I knew that I had said the wrong thing.

“Yes, actually. And,” she said, before I could object, “Fiona thought you should too. In fact, she made it a condition of your continued occupancy of this flat. We both think it might be nice for you to have someone else around to talk to.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“And you want me to talk to a cat?”

Daphne just gave me a Mona Lisa smile, handed me a plate filled with food, and told me when she left later that evening that I had forty-eight hours to send her a picture of a cat. (I asked what I should do if I didn’t like any of the cats I saw. Or if they didn’t like me. She said I had to at least prove that I tried.)

So, this morning, I made my way to the nearest RSPCA and talked to strangers for the first time in over a week. I told them that I was looking to adopt a cat, and they immediately led me to a room filled with individual cages and an assortment of felines. They said I could play with any of the cats that I wanted, and now I’m staring into the eyes of a fluffy orange tabby.

The tabby meows at me, and I swear that she’s telling me to get lost. I guess cats can tell when you’re out of your depth.

I stroll down the aisle and read the names given to each cat. It’s been years since I last had a pet and even then, the husky my family had wasn’t my sole responsibility. I was in charge of feeding him, but there was always someone else making sure that I did. And really, we only adopted him when my pediatrician suggested that an animal might help me after my mother died. Daphne is probably trying to do the same thing again now. (Is this how one becomes a crazy cat lady? Depression, anxiety, OCD, and an unwillingness to tolerate therapy?)

I keep walking slowly until I feel a tug on my sleeve. I look down, and a little orange paw ending in one very sharp claw has latched on to me. I unhook it before my sweater can snag, and then look into the kennel. There are two kittens, each only about ten weeks old according to their cards, and the orange one is peering up at me with big blue eyes. Its littermate is asleep in the corner, curled into a fluffy black puffball, but the tabby is ready to play. His tail twitches, and he pounces immediately when I wiggle a finger between the bars. He catches my fingertip in a far more gentle grasp than I would have imagined, then looks at me with what can only be described as pure adoration.

“Excuse me,” I say, moving my finger some more and feeling small claws dig in. Then again, louder, to get the attention of the woman, “Excuse me. Can I see this one?”

The woman comes over and flips the latch, then reaches in and comes out with a handful of fur and knives. The kitten opens its mouth in a fierce imitation of a vampire, then stretches it further as it lapses into a yawn. We spend the better part of an hour in a bright, cheerful room, just the kitten and I. At first it chases a string that I drag along the ground and runs after balls with bells in them, but then it calms down and curls up in my lap to sleep.

I’m petting it and cooing softly to it, trying to ignore the fact that Daphne and Fiona were both right about this whole thing, when the door to the room opens again.

“Oh. It’s you,” says the most beautiful man I have ever seen. My face flushes when I remember our last encounter and I pray he doesn’t remember my ignorance. (Of course he does. I didn’t know how to select a wrench. I am incapable of basic home repair and he knows it.)

“Do you two know each other?” The woman from before is back, this time holding the other kitten from the same cage, and looking between the two of us. “These kittens aren’t technically a bonded pair, but they are siblings, the only two remaining from their litter, and it would be lovely if they could still see each other.”

“Err…” the man says, shifting his weight.

“We’ve met in passing a few times now,” I say, trying to avoid encouraging this line of questioning.

“Great!” she says, clapping her hands brightly after handing the kitten off. “I’ll leave all of you to get better acquainted then!”

For a moment, there’s just awkward silence. Neither of us are looking at each other, both focusing on our respective kittens. Then, his kitten turns into the feline equivalent of a slinky, oozes out of his grasp, and runs over to tap my leg once before running away again. It hides behind his legs, and all I can see is a black tail winding around his ankles.

We both laugh, and the ice is broken.

“I’m Simon,” he says, and smiles at me. It’s the same radiant smile I remember from his lockscreen. It feels like looking into the sun, and I bask in it.

“Basil. Although my friends call me Baz.”

“Are you going to…” he trails off, but gestures to my cat.

“Yes,” I look down and give it a scratch under the chin. “I’m going to adopt it.”

“Same here,” Simon says, and then he blushes. “I mean, unless it rips my face off in the next few minutes, but I think this is the one.”

“Do you know which one you have?” Their names and genders were on the cage, but it didn’t specify who was who.

“No idea. I’m going to rename mine anyway though, I didn’t like either of those names.”

“I was planning on doing the same thing. If I’m going to have a pet, it needs to have a proper name befitting its personality. Not something mundane like Fluffy.” I scowl, and he laughs.

As his kitten comes over to touch its nose to my kitten, Simon clears his throat.

“So, um, like she said, they’d probably be happy to have playdates or whatever. I mean, since we’re getting them. And since we keep running into each other. It might make sense to, you know, exchange numbers?”

“Yes!” I say, far too eagerly. “I mean, that seems reasonable. It would be more convenient than waiting to happen upon you in the Waitrose choosing inferior crisps to set up a future meeting.”

He smiles. “Well, yeah, there’s that. And this way, it’ll be easier for me to ask you out, ”

Then the absolute nightmare sits down beside me and hands me his phone. He texts me immediately once I enter my contact info.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) This is Simon Snow

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) Your cat is cute.

Unknown Number (11:27 AM) So are you

Unknown Number (11:28 AM) Wanna get dinner sometime? ;)

I blush, and send him a reply.

Baz (11:29 AM) I thought you’d never ask.

#snowbaz fic #Purr-fect Strangers #a gift for a friend! #fuff #my fic

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 26

first time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Drunken love confessions and other emotional constipation. A threesome between two awesome facial hair bros and reader. I'm absolutely unhappy with how this turned out because a certain sorcerer insisted on being super soft in this one. But at least there's porn...

On the same note, how do we feel about introducing more m/m action? I am a total slut for bisexual boys. I can't help the gay it just comes out...

I danced with Tony briefly as the drinks finally caught up to him. The ex-playboy certainly defended his title: he had impeccable sense of rhythm and we swayed on the floor in tandem, bothering very little with hiding how hot we were for each other. Grinding our hips together, my ass on his dick, Tony was half-hard and I felt it all through the layers of tulle of my skirt and leather of his pants. Now and then his hands wandered, shamelessly squeezing my breasts and my ass, his mouth leaving a blazing hot trail on my neck and my shoulders.

I wasn't far behind. Tony's hair was all kinds of messed up thanks to my own hands and his ass found itself in the very same palms far more than once. "It's a shame Bruce doesn't dance," I pouted drunkenly, receiving an equally intoxicated noise of vague approval. "The three of us are perfect," I stated something that had been boiling over in my head quite a bit.

Tony nodded again. "Yeah," He was far more touchy than usual; his lips landed in my hair right next to my ear. "Bet we can get Merlin, though. I saw him with Natasha earlier," Tony went in to kiss my cheek and missed again, sloppily smooching my temple.

"He has no business being that fuckin' hot," I spit out petulantly without a second thought.

"You're fuckin' right and you should say it," Tony agreed instantly, both of us wearing almost identical, indignant expressions. We paused for a moment, looking deeply into each other's eyes - or, well, we tried to. Drinks and drugs tended to make focusing quite hard. "So we're doing this?" Tony squinted questioningly.

"What about Bruce?" I immediately replied, mind going back to the way my sciency boyfriend was smirking at my and Tony's reaction to Stephen's grand entrance.

"He's okayed any and all our ventures provided we tell him about it," Tony said after a moment of stunned silence.

I chewed on my lip in muted amusement. "What's, he's got, like, a kink?" I tried to articulate my confusion. "And we somehow ended up, I mean all three of us - without talking?" I voiced my concerns. This conversation was really overdue and I'll be damned if that weren't the drugs making me talk. I would probably regret it in the morning...

Tony's eyes softened immediately, a palm raising to trace the side of my face lovingly and gently. "Me and Bruce had a conversation about... You. We both liked you, it's fucking impossible to dislike you, have you seen you? We had decided to let you choose at first, woved for it to not get in the way of our friendship..." He trailed off, looking sheepish and slurring his words slightly. The alcohol had loosened his lips too. I felt only the thump of the bassline, music fading away into the background, my ears hearing only the words leaving Tony's mouth. "I doubt it would have worked out anyways. But you..." He cupped my face. "You gave us everything."

I would have cried if not for the chemicals in my system. My mouth formed a smile on it's own accord and I reached closer to slot it over Tony's shaky grin, bringing us into a slow and sloppy kiss that lasted what felt like years. "I love you, okay? You and Bruce," I spit out the words I desperately wanted to say for so long. Nothing really mattered in the moment, it was just me and Tony and our shared feelings. It wasn't bizarre anymore, loving someone and being loved back.

"Me too, Princess, me too," Tony whispered, hiding his face in the crook of my neck. One of the many advantages of having a boyfriend that wasn't a six-foot tall muscle-bound fricking bastard.

"We have a mission," I reminded him after another song slowly transitioned into a different one. "But I'm also craving a cigarette."

Tony's hand encompassesed mine as he led the way to the patio where the smokers area was located. Bucky's shiny metal arm stood out amongst the partygoers and we made a beeline for him. I bummed a cigarette off him despite Steve's prominent frown and Bucky was even gentleman enough to light it up for me.

We needn't have looked for Strange, it was a few minutes after I'd taken my first drag that he appeared, spouting like a mushroom right after a rainfall. He was frowning. "Caught some douchebag trying to roofie a girl," He explained. Barnes gave him a cigarette without question, trading a dark look with Steve. "Natasha and Loki are taking care of it," Strange supplied, jerking a hand towards the back of the room.

Barnes eyed Tony until the latter gave a short, resigned nod. "Just don't do anything that will land me in the papers," The billionaire sighed before speaking several short commands into a bracelet that served as a direct communication device with Friday. "I raised the security monitors for any suspicious activity too. Put in an earpiece and Friday will notify you if someone else tries to act funny," Tony finished darkly, eyeing Stephen's shaking hands.

I choose to stay silent throughout the interaction, letting the pissed off men to blow off some steam before approaching them. Barnes' cigs migrated into my hands and I watched the tense, retreating backs of the super-soldiers until only the three of us were left in a comfortable silence. I waited until the man was done with his cancer stick and promptly grabbed his hands, gently but firmly stroking the scarred skin.

Tony leaned on the railing, watching us with open interest.

Strange cocked a curious eyebrow but didn't retract his hands, releasing a quiet sigh when my movements successfully calmed the tremors. "Contrary to popular belief, I am capable of being... Nice," He spoke after a moment.

"I know," I replied dryly. "But being nice all the time is boring."

"A day with you is never boring," Tony winked at us teasingly, noticing me step further into the sorcerer's personal space. His eyes were still glowing and whatever spell he had put on himself was still working, attracting me to him like a magnet.

Stephen looked to the side, at Tony, then at me, before gently pulling out a single hand and making an elaborate gesture that made his skin briefly shimmer. The unnatural pull disappeared - me and Tony both exhaled heavily - yet the appreciation for Stephen's lithe, agile form remained. He was a beautifully made man.

Tony made his own move, a signature of his, placing a steady palm on the taller man's back and looking up at Stephen through his eyelashes. The fresh air had sobered both of us up by quite a bit and our coordination returned.

Stephen smirked slightly, running his eyes over the crowd of partygoers gathered around us. Nobody was paying any particular attention to the three of us yet all of us were acutely aware how much damage could be done by a stray snapshot, an accidental Snapchat feature, or something drunkenly posted on public social media by an absolute stranger. Tony and Strange threw each other a secretive, heated glance while I pressed myself closer to Tony, still caressing one of Stephen's hands. To the public, it was nothing more than a friendly gesture to help out a close friend out of his discomfort.

"Your place? I'm afraid mine's a mess," Stephen asked, uncharacteristically dorky and overused pick-up line.

"Lead the way," Tony smirked, both of us sharing a muted giggle at the doctor's antics. In response, Stephen extracted his other hand from my grasp and waved them about in the familiar gesture of creating a portal. On the other side of the circle was the familiar scenery of Tony's penthouse bedroom, sheets, as always, unmade and my fluffy socks hanging half-way off the comforter.

I pulled both men into the circle by their forearms, making quick in hopes everybody around us was too drunk to take note of the surroundings on the other side of the portal. An obscenely large bed in plain view didn't leave much space for speculation.

I sat down on it, taking my time to observe the curious interaction between two men in front of me. The sexual tension between them was undeniable, it crackled in the space between their bodies, lit an unholy fire in their eyes. If I was completely honest with myself - Stephen was hot, but Stephen and Tony together, it was out of this world and I would have been very content to just hang back and watch the two of them going at it.

Untying and toeing off my shoes had me distracted for a brief moment - evidently enough for Stephen to lose his pretense and roughly grab Tony by his face, smashing their lips together gracelessly. Tony's hands grasped the expensive fabric of Stephen's blazer with a force that was equal to the one gathering in the low of my belly. The dress I wore was now carefully thrown over a nearby lounge chair, leaving me in a set of golden bra and tiny panties. It was a gift from Tony: he loved when I wore his colors.

My almost bare body got their attention: panting, they broke apart to stare at me, their gazes hungry enough to make me shiver and feel like prey. Tony's arms sandwiched me between them, letting Stephen's lips to taste mine for the first time. The sorcerer did not hesitate, he plunged his tongue into my mouth and immediately seized command of the kiss. He kissed like he fought, sharply, with precision and demand.

I popped the buttons on his shirt as he explored my mouth, finding the skin of his chest taut and textured with a multitude of smaller, thinner scars. He was built like a runner, or a swimmer, all lean muscle and sculpted hipbones and neatly stacked ribs. His shirt suffered a haste demise.

The thuds and jingles accompanied by quiet cursing behind my back alerted me to Tony's struggle with his intricately made costume. "Can you boom-boom-whoosh it away?" I asked Stephen.

He pulled away with an amused smirk, waving his glowing hands about. "Do what now?"

"It's what the internet calls your voodoo shit, don't quote me," Tony snarked, suddenly finding himself wearing only his boxers. I was promptly pulled to his chest, in what I knew was a defensive gesture - he hated showing off the scarred area around his arc reactor. He used to hide it from me, too.

Stephen hummed, once again waving his hands about in a surprisingly complicated set of motions. I was mesmerised by his hands - even despite the injuries, they remained as skilled and perplexing. Once Stephen was left in his underwear, I wasted no time in detaching from Tony and steering the sorcerer to fall freely into the large bed.

"You need to stop being so smug," I stated, climbing on top of Stephen and claiming his lips for myself. "It's bound to get you in trouble."

"Is that so?" And still, the man looked as satisfied as the cat who ate the canary. That just won't do.

"Tones, help me out, I'm trying to see smtn'," I asked, feeling the man settle in next to me and trace a gentle hand down my side, over my breast and down to the flat of Stephen's belly. The man under me shivered, face slowly heating up.

"Yes, dear?" My engineer supplied helpfully.

"Off," With a sudden change of pace, I snapped the elastic of Stephen's boxers, causing the man to jump and the very sizeable bulge in them twitch. Tony obediently pulled down the offending piece of clothing, causing Stephen to groan as the cool air hit the heated flesh of his most sensitive spots.

I settled between his thighs, spitting in my palm and giving his long cock a few solid strokes, enjoying the way his hips seemed to involuntarily follow the movement of my slick palm.

"I'd brace myself if I were you," Tony remarked teasingly, bending down to kiss the sorcerer again. Between my and Tony's mouths, Steph really didn't stand a chance.

The obscenely long moan that left his mouth was swallowed by Tony as my lips and tongue made to wrap around the very tip of Stephen's cock. I tasted the musk and the salt of him as I made down his long cock, taking extra time to warm up my throat for the incoming intrusion. And when I finally swallowed him, to the hilt, I swear I felt the way his body shook.

There was a lot more noise coming from the two men - I briefly lifted my eyes to see Stephen sucking a hickey onto the side of Tony's neck with a vigour, Tony's hand holding onto Stephen's hair as the taller man palmed the shorter man's bulge through his boxers.

I was pretty sure my juices were flowing down my thighs. The two men were a Sight; the drugs and booze in my system had me reaching new levels of arousal, levels I previously didn't even know existed. A needy noise left my lips, muffled by the delicious cock stretching them and I knew it was time to grant myself the thing I had been craving for so long.

Swiftly, I pulled off Stephen's cock and sat down into his lap, grinding my panty-covered mound atop his erection that laid on his belly, twitching and leaking. "You want a condom? We're clean and I'm on birth control," I offered.

"I'm clean, feel free to..." Stephen detached his mouth from Tony just long enough to mutter consent, immediately going back to taste the engineer's skin and mark it with his lips and teeth. By the time I she'd my underwear and slid down on his sizeable cock, I had noticed the necklace of blues and reds decorating Tony's neck and clavicles.

"Fuck, yessss..." I hissed, the emptiness within me finally fed. Experimentally raising my hips up and down a few times, I quickly found a rhythm that made for sinful noises to fall from both of our lips. Tony was whining, too, in impatience. "Tony, wanna try something?"

That piqued his interest. He looked at me, eyes unfocused and blown with lust. "Hm?" As Steph continued satiating his hunger for Tony's skin.

I carefully considered it before speaking. "Get behind me," I ordered breathily, slowing my pace just enough to keep me tethering on the brink of release.

"We need lube," He mumbled immediately, catching my drift - well, not quite.

"Nope, we don't. I can take both of you," I stated, bending over and spreading my legs a little wider. With Tony and Bruce, it would have been impossible considering the fact that Bruce's cock was as thick as a fuckin' coke can, but with Stephen being a little more reasonably sized... I must admit, I was curious. It certainly looked interesting enough in porn. Plus, it would allow the two men to feel each other-

"Fuckin' hell," Stephen groaned, one hand gripping my hip to steady himself. So that was a definite yes. "Princess, you're killing me here."

Tony took all of a whole second to get in position and spit in his hand, adding extra lubrication just in case. Thoughtful Tony. He needn't have worried, however - every inch from my thighs to Steph's balls was covered in my juices. To say that I was turned on would have been a massive fuckin' understatement.

"Fu-uck, you're so good, baby," Tony groaned. I felt the tip of his cock breach and stretch my entrance, finding the sting not painful but rather pleasurable. Inch by inch, I felt myself open up. The sensations were incredibly powerful, my release approaching even despite the steady slow movements that Tony was making.

"Harder," I begged, feeling my release approach with the force of a freight train. Both men complied, falling into a careful but powerful rhythm, shaking me to the core with each precise thrust. It didn't take long for me to clench and spasm around the cocks, making both men pick up the pace, their movements turning sloppy. My own imagination supplied the extra mile, figuring their cocks rubbing against each other inside my sloppy wet hole made it feel twice as intense.

Tony wrapped his forearm around my throat, putting a healthy arch to my back - I didn't know whose cock was hitting just the right spot and I didn't care. My eyes met Stephen's - he was watching me come undone, worrying his lip between his teeth, his own eyes darting between my and Tony's face. In a split second decision, I took hold of one of his hands and popped the index and middle fingers into my mouth, softly sucking on them, covering the digits in my little gasps and moans

Stephen's back arched and Tony groaned, stuttering his hips in response. As soon as the little crease between the sorcerer's eyebrows made a humble appearance, he was coming. "Fuck!" He yelped hoarsely, painting my insides and Tony's cock white. The engineer dropped his head onto my shoulders, panting, getting a few stuttered thrusts and he was coming, too, jerking almost violently behind me.

Him shoving his cock as deeply as possible within me triggered another wave of bliss for me. I followed the two men, gasping around the fingers in my mouth and behind the unyielding strength of Tony's arm. I felt wrung out, like a paper bag scrunched up and used...

In the best way. It was incredibly hot. The realisation that I had been marked by two glorious men from the inside out made me shiver and the men in question twitch in response to the involuntary flutter my pussy had done from my thoughts.

"Woah," Tony mumbled, gently pulling out of my sore and sloppy hole.

"Yeah," Stephen was finally speechless and tranquil. A picture of serendipity, really, with his arm thrown comfortably over his head and a sated little smirk on his face.

I couldn't resist pecking him on the lips as I slid off his body to nest myself between him and Tony who still seemed to be catching his breath. "You should be like this more often," I stated, feeling myself slip into drowsiness.

"Gimme a reason," Stephen mumbled, barely a trace of his usual sarcasm.

"Oh we will," Tony finished darkly, throwing a sheet over the three of us and settling a comfortable arm across my waist, palm flat on Stephen's tummy. Last thing I heard before I fell into a deep sleep was Stephen's blunt nails scratching softly along Tony's scalp.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

#Stephen Strange x reader x Tony Stark #stephen strange x y/n #stephen strange x you #stephen strange x reader #tony stark x y/n #tony stark x reader #tony stark x you #tony stark smut #stephen strange smut #party favours #bun writes

[raving--ravenclaw]

Christmas With... The Longbottoms! - Neville x Reader

A/N: welcome to part two of my Harry Potter Christmas series! Neville is my absolute favorite character so I really enjoyed writing this for him. I hope you enjoy reading it!

Warnings: None

Words: 2,500

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I nearly fell to the ground as Neville and I landed our apparition at his house. Him and I have been best friends pretty much since the first day of our first year at Hogwarts and every year we spend Christmas together. We alternate whose house we spend it at every year. Since we were at my house for Christmas last year we'd be spending it at his house this year.

His house was tall, three stories to be exact, and boxy. The siding is darkly colored and it seemed as if it was leaning forward. There wasn't much character to it unless you count the feeling of gloom it gave to anyone within sight of it. One thing about the house was off though… there were no Christmas decorations up.

"Neville, in the six years that we have been spending Christmas together I have never seen your house sans decorations."

"With the rise of he who shall not be named Gran didn't want to decorate. Said it didn't feel very Christmassy this year."

"That's rubbish."

"I s'pose you're going to gripe about it aren't you?"

"You know me too well. The only reason it doesn't feel like Christmas is because you don't have any decorations up! Voldemort didn't cancel Christmas!"

Neville flinched at the mention of the name and I turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shout it."

"S'alright. Just wasn't expecting it is all."

I gave him a hug and held him tightly. Neville and I were always very touchy. I'm not quite sure what the reasoning was behind his touchiness but mine came from the constant want to be close to him. I would easily admit it to anyone that asked but no one really seemed to notice my liking for him, including him.

Neville pulled away from our hug,"you're still wearing my scarf."

"I need it right now too, it's freezing out here."

"We could go inside if you want. It is cold."

"It is. Let's go."

We jogged inside and pulled the door closed quickly behind us. The warmth hit me like a nice cozy wall. The inside of Neville's house was always dimly lit and you could tell that his gran had decorated. That's not to say it wasn't cozy though. I always felt welcome at Neville's. However, I have to admit that his gran is not my favorite person in the World because of the way she treats him sometimes.

Neville shed his coat and then turned and offered to take mine. I peeled my coat off and set it gently in his hands.

"Gran, we're home," he bellowed after hanging up the coats in the entry way closet.

His gran came shuffling out of the kitchen door at the end of the narrow hallway that led to the rest of the house.

"Welcome, y/n. Merry Christmas."

"Thank you, Ms. Longbottom. Merry Christmas."

"It's late. Shouldn't you be preparing for bed?"

"We just got in Gran."

She huffed, "well I'm going to bed. You know where the blankets are Neville."

"Night Gran."

"Goodnight," I added as she began to climb the stairs.

Neville and I watched in silence as she disappeared at the the top of the stairs. She was awfully abrasive tonight. Don't get me wrong she was often grumpy but not usually entirely unpleasant. I assumed it was voldemort's recent re-appearance that probably had her on edge.

"Shall we go up then," Neville asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"Sure."

I went to grab my bag but Neville got to it first.

"Let me y/n."

"You don't have to do that, really, I can get it."

"Y/n, I'd carry you up if you let me," Neville said starting up the stairs.

"You're too sweet, Neville," I said following.

Neville's bedroom was on the top floor of the house and down a long haul. I wasn't in the best shape and I hate to admit but I would be put of breath by the time we got to his room. Once, when we were younger, we got an old slab of wood out of the attic and sled down the stairs over and over again until his gran caught us. I swear we never sat still as kids.

Reaching his room, Neville dramatically kicked the door open, having both of his hands full with my suitcase. I laughed at his overdramatic way of opening the door. Every year we spent Christmas at his house we always just slept in his room together. I was surprised that this hadn't changed as we grew older.

"Y'know, either your gran really trusts us or she hasn't really thought this whole thing through," I chuckled.

"I think she just doubts my abilities."

"Your abilities‽" I laughed.

He struggled to try and explain what he meant and was stuttering all over the place. He finally settled on saying, "you know what I mean."

"I really don't," I said pulling blankets down out of his closet and setting them on the window seat.

"Gran sees it as how I tend to be bad at everythin'," he said coming over to make the window seat up for a bed.

"You are not Nev." I cupped his cheek and turned his head to look at me. "Sure you used to be a bit clumsy but first of all there's nothing wrong with that and second of all you've grown out of it."

His eyes were so gentle. I could truly sit and stare into them hour after hour. "It's hard to shake, y'know? That view of myself."

I guided his forehead to mine and practically nuzzles into him. "It's not hard for me. I see my best friend everyday and realize that he's turned into this amazing, gorgeous, young man and we're only sixteen. You've still got growing left to do. I'm not going to be able to handle you by next year." He chuckled. "And I'm so luck to have you. Honestly I'm jealous too, I wanna look this good." We both laughed. "Never doubt yourself Neville, you have no reason too."

"For the record, I think you look better."

I finally let go of his face and he continued to make up a bed with a big smile.

"Why don't you sleep in your bed and I'll take the window seat this time."

"But the window seat's not very comfy. I don't mind sleeping there for you."

I had to take a deep breath and clear my mind before speaking. He was so sweet sometimes that it was hard to not just tell him how much I love him. He's just so good to me. How could I not love him? It's a bit overwhelming but in the best way.

"I'll take it Neville, it's okay."

"If you want to switch just let me know, okay?"

"Okay."

I settled down into the window seat and Neville in his bed. Out the large circle window I could see the moonlight glinting off the snow below. One thing I loved about Neville's room is how at night it filled with moonlight because of this window. It made you feel calm and on a full moon you didn't need any artificial light to see. His room in general was calm, just like his presence. It's funny how someone so riddled with nerves and anxiety could always make others feel so relaxed and safe. I guess he didn't want anyone else to go through what he was going through. I looked across the room to see him gently fiddling with a plant on his nightstand. I always did my best to make him feel calm too. He's been through so much his whole life. A lot of it right here in this house.

"Hey, y/n, do you want to decorate for Christmas tomorrow? You were right, it feels wrong without it."

"I would love to."

"Can't wait. Good night, y/n, sleep well."

"Good night Neville."

"If you need anything, I'm right here."

I rolled over and dozed off quickly feeling safe and excited for the next day.

In the morning I quickly hopped up out of bed, excited to decorate and get in the Christmas spirit. I ran across the room and flopped onto Neville's bed causing him to bolt upright and exclaim.

"Good morning sleepy head."

"You really scared me there!"

"I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'm excited too. Just let me get dressed."

He tucked himself away in his closet to get dressed and didn't come out until I had told him I was fully clothed.

"You look so festive!" He was referring to my Christmas sweater that had little lights all over it.

"Thank you! You look very cozy."

He and I rushed downstairs to have a quick breakfast before getting to decorating. During which, his gran told us how it was wrong to celebrate when such dark things were going on in the World. Which is exactly why I thought we needed to decorate, it would surely bring some light to that darkness. We asked her for help with decorating since we weren't allowed to use magic outside of school yet and wouldn't have any way to hang the lights. She declined though and we realized we would have to do things the muggle way.

Once up in his attic we struggled to find the string lights and everything we would need to hang them but eventually we found everything. Getting the lights up one the house was certainly going to be the hardest part.

"So we have to use the muggle device," I stared at the tall triangle with spaced out stairs that was folded up and leaned against the wall.

"I think we can figure it out alright," he picked up the odd thing.

We grabbed all of our decorations and the muggle device and lugged all of it to his front yard.

"Where do we start?"

"If you'll hold the ladder, I'll climb up and hang the lights," I offered.

"That's dangerous. What if you fall?"

"Make sure you catch me," I winked at him and giggled as he turned bright red. "I'd trust you with my life any day Neville."

"That makes one of us," he said, leaning the ladder against the house. "Please be careful."

"I will be, try not to worry." 

I climbed the ladder with a bundle of lights and looked back down at Neville. Goodness it WAS high up and we're not even to the top of the house yet.

"You alright?"

"Yeah I'm okay, Neville," I shouted down.

He was holding the ladder steady and I'm pretty sure if I was down there I could see his knuckles turning white from how tight he was gripping it. I was very careful to keep my balance as I hung the lights across the eave. I leaned back, keeping a tight hold on the ladder, to see if I had the lights even. When I was satisfied with the way they looked I began to back down the ladder. I stepped down to the third ring from the top and my foot slipped off. Everything was a blur as I fell toward the ground rapidly. I heard a grunt as I landed that I was sure wasn't mind and the ground felt much softer than it ought to.

"Does this count as catching you," Neville groaned from underneath me.

"I'd say so," I groaned, propping myself up on my hands.

"You alright?" He smiled up at me.

"Yes, thanks to you," I wiped a strand of hair out of his face.

We stayed there on top of each other. It was mildly awkward but somehow not at the same time and eventually we burst into laughter.

"I suppose I should get off you now."

"I s'pose."

"You're so warm though," I laughed getting up.

"If you're cold we could go in and warm up," he got up off the ground.

I told him that I was fine and we continued on with the lights. We each took turns going up on the ladder to hang them. Neither of us made the mistake of falling off again. Not only did we hang up lights on the house but we put lights in his front bushes and candy canes along the front path. By nightfall we had his house looking more festive than ever before. 

We sat inside now, in his room. With everything going on out in the World right now this was surprisingly shaping up to be one of my favorite Christmases with him. I don't know what it is but I feel closer to him than ever.

"I'm still cold from being out all day. Are you," I asked Neville who sat across the room on his bed.

"Little bit. I had fun though."

He got up and walked over to the window seat and sat down across from me. He grabbed the top layer of his clothes and pulled the sweater off and handed it to me.

"H-Here."

"Thanks," I said slipping it on. "I'm beginning to think I'll be cold forever."

Across the seat the Christmas lights shone in the window casting a light glow of color onto Neville. He looked so handsome, he always did. 

He held his arms open for me, "if you're still cold I could help."

I scooted across the bench to lean into him. His arms wrapped around me and I nuzzled into him. We sat like that for a long while, talking about anything and everything, laughing and carrying on. The whole time we've been sitting like this I've been considering telling him how I feel. It would be so easy too. There was nothing stopping me. Well, except for the fact that he can be so shy and if I told him he might just curl up into a ball and never speak again. But maybe it was worth a shot.

"Neville."

"Yeah?"

"I really like you. Like a lot."

"I thought we had established that already," he laughed.

"Wait, you knew I have feelings for you?" I turned around in his arms to look at him.

"You have feelings for me‽"

"That's what I meant when I said I like you a lot!"

"Oh….," He stared off into space as if to contemplate this deeply.

"You know if you don't have feelings for me too that's okay," I said, hopeful that he wouldn't confirm what I had just said.

"No! No! I just didn't want to tell you. I really love having you around and I didn't want that to change."

"Well, I'd like to be around more, if you're okay with that."

"I don't think that's possible," he laughed.

"Even so," I chuckled.

I kissed him on the cheek and settled back down into his arms and as he nuzzled his head into the back of mine everything was as it should be.

#neville longbottom #neville imagine #neville #neville x reader #harry potter #hogwarts #holiday #christmas #fanfic #fanfiction

[mrsedmercer]

Steamy Love (Tom Hiddleston x Reader LEMON) Chapter 29:~Too Much~

Summary: Being forced to converse with the man that broke your heart turns things physical, in more ways than one.

Warnings: mild drunken aggressiveness. Lemon and angst at the end.

Read it on my Wattpad: www.wattpad.com/hiddlesstar

Word count: 2475

Tags: @theoneanna @midnightdragonzero @drakesfiance @kcd15 @ihthr @deviantsendbyreallife @bookgirlunicorn @cherrygeek86 @peachlobotomy666

During the rest of the party, you and your friend got to talk to a lot of people, making sure to keep a distance from Tom. You knew people thought you two were still together. You're sure people are already bringing up the fact that you didn't come together or that you're hanging around apart from one another. You were trying to think of a good excuse, just in case you're asked.

You're not quite sure why you want to keep up the lie, though. Are you trying to protect him, or protect yourself? Do you think people finding out you two have broken up would ruin your career as an actress? Do you fear it would make your movie fail? Or was it deeper than that?

Maybe...you were trying to hang on to the last bit of an amazing relationship. Amazing memories.

You can...almost hear Tom's voice, as if he's standing right next to you.

You were cut out of your thoughts as a reporter shoved a microphone in your face. You blushed a bit with a slight wince.

"P-Pardon?" You spoke up, hearing a slight chuckle beside you. You turned your head a bit, your eyes lighting up slightly when you saw who was beside you.

It was Tom, standing next to you without any sort of tension. You couldn't help but feel slightly...happy. You felt happy to see him smiling next to you.

"How're you two feeling tonight?" The reporter repeated, smiling at you.

"O-Oh, I'm feeling great!" You managed to speak up, somehow forming a happy smile. A waitress came by with some drinks, Tom grabbing one for both of you. He handed you yours with a polite grin. You felt warm getting to look at his big, blue eyes again.

"It's been a fun night.." Tom spoke to the reporter, having a full conversation with the both of you. Tom was able to speak about you and him as if everything had been perfectly fine. He even had a great excuse as to why you two didn't show up together, mentioning the struggling distance between where you two now lived.

"I actually didn't know she was going to be here tonight.." Tom chuckled, turning to look at you. "I had planned to visit her after the play was done..."

"Awe, then I bet this feels like a lovely reunion!" The reporter smiled brightly at you.

You weren't sure if what Tom was saying was true, but hearing him talk about the distance between you two got rid of that excitement and happiness you felt in your stomach, annoyance and nausea replacing it. You are reminded of the last conversation you had, which resulted in a fight, all because of a misunderstanding. Maybe this was your chance to get answers. He wouldn't listen to you then, understandably, but maybe he would listen to you now.

You didn't really have enough time to think about what you said. For a majority of the night, all you did was drink, dance and talk. You had pretty much lost your friend in the crowd, but you were able to talk and catch up with Tom as if nothing was wrong. With all the little drinks, you even became tipsy enough to laugh and slightly brush his arm, and even caught yourself openly flirting with him. He had such an effect on you. Even if you felt a little angrier on the inside as the night went on, you two were perfect actors, able to play the part of a loving, flawless relationship.

You got a text late into the night that your friend would be waiting outside, ready to leave. Without giving much of a goodbye, you told Tom you were leaving. You were both a little tipsy, but you just wanted to get out of there now that you could. You were starting to feel a little overwhelmed, having to fake a smile for such a long time. Tom did kind of reach for your as you retreated into the bathroom, closing the door. You were a little drunk, so you checked yourself in the mirror to make sure you hadn't been crying without realizing it. You were upset with yourself for going through with this fake happiness with Tom. He's been lying the whole night about you two, but what could you really do? Announce your breakup at a famous event? Cuss him out days before his big play? Even with how upset you were, you couldn't do that to him. You couldn't ruin that smile.

As you finished fixing yourself in the mirror, you heard a knock on the door. "Almost done!" You called, but that just made the door open. You realized now you hadn't even locked it. You really were a little tipsier than you thought you were, and who had come inside just made you feel worse.

It was Tom, again.

He closed the door and locked it behind him, so you two wouldn't be disturbed. He didn't look as cheerful as he did before.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming to this event?" He asked you, his smile from before completely gone.

"What the fuck are you doing in here?" You asked, looking at him like he was crazy. He just locked you two in the only bathroom in the building, and you were supposed to go meet your friend outside to leave. "I'm supposed to leave soon.."

"You said you couldn't move up here, and then a month later you have the money to come to this event?" He spoke, crossing his arms.

"What the fuck does it matter? Why are you lying to everyone?" You asked with a slight glare. "You're acting like we're still together. For what? To save the movie we're in?"

"I haven't been lying to anyone." Tom huffed. "My friends know we're not together anymore, and now you've absolutely confused them by coming here. You've confused everyone."

"Well, maybe I thought it'd be funny.." You replied with an annoyed smile, reminded of the last thing Tom had said to you "A funny joke, cause I know all about jokes, right? It's all a bloody joke to me."

Tom rolled his eyes, stepping closer. "Don't do that, (Y/N).." He sighed. "Just answer the question."

"I came here with one of my friends." You replied. "Her boyfriend couldn't come with her, so she gave me the spare ticket. I didn't even know you were gonna be here."

"You didn't think you'd run into me at all? In the UK?" Tom asked, wincing some. "Do you honestly think I'll believe that?"

"I had hoped I wouldn't run into you." You admitted with a glare.

That specific sentence hit Tom rather hard, placing a hand on his chest with a hurt smile. "You hate me that much, do you?.." He asked, his eyes watering slightly. You hated how that sounded, instinctively moving up a little closer, wanting to wipe his tears before you'd stop yourself.

"I don't hate you.." You replied, shaking your head. "I could never hate you, but I hate that..." You looked down. "I-I hate that you...you didn't even give me a chance to explain myself.."

"I didn't need to.." Tom admitted, gazing down at you. "You made your feelings for me very clear. Wanted me to buy your parents a house, to jump start your career..."

"Tom, it was just my friend being a dick.." You dragged your hands down your face with a huff. "I wasn't fucking using you for your money. I could never do that."

Tom didn't believe that. "Well, you certainly didn't disagree with what they were saying."

"I-I should've defended you, okay? I know that now." You frowned. "I should've defended you.."

Tom disregarded what you were saying. He was tipsy as well. He was angry with you, and the alcohol was making it worse.

"At least they were half right.." Tom muttered before turning away to leave.

You didn't let him run off so easily, grabbing his arm.

"Hey!" You called, stopping his movements. "What the fuck does that mean?"

"Let me go, (Y/N).." Tom looked back at you, glaring some.

"Not until you explain what the fuck that means." You glared back, tugging his arm some. You weren't being aggressive, not that it would do much if you were. He's much taller and stronger than you, but your grip was good enough to keep him away from that door.

"Let me go." He repeated, his voice more stern.

"Talk to me like a fucking man, Hiddleston." You spat.

With a few sudden movements your grip had slipped from Tom, but instead of him running off, he walked you right up against the bathroom wall, holding both of your arms down at your side. You were both being aggressive with each other for numerous reasons. Part of it was the alcohol. Part of it was the anger you both felt for one another.

The last bit of it, however...was something different. Something you thought would've been long gone by now, but it still lingered and was growing stronger and stronger by the second because of the previous reasons.

It was lust.

Without a second thought, you leaned in just enough for your lips to meet in a passionate kiss. It caught Tom off guard, but he didn't pull away. You pulled back some to look at him, seeing a surprised Tom. You briefly saw his eyes darkened before he'd move in to kiss you back, a slight inhale leaving both of you. It was bittersweet feeling his lips on yours after all this time. You couldn't resist him even if you tried, already feeling a rush of heat down to your core. He pressed up against you, a tent already pressing up against your hip from his suit pants. You didn't pull back to comment on it, just keeping the deep kiss locked as his hands slid down your arms and to your hips. With a little lift, he had you hop up on to the wall, your legs wrapping around him slightly with your dress lifting up just enough to reveal your panties. Tom pulled back from the kiss and brought one of his hands down to get his suit pants off, letting them along with his boxer briefs slip down his thighs, getting his length out. You couldn't look down to see it, but you could feel his length already pressing up against your clothed core. With you still up against the wall, he managed to slip your panties down just enough to expose your soaked core. He looked down so he could properly align his length with your entrance, managing to push in with a soft moan, a shaky moan escaping you as well. He brought his gaze back up to you, your dark eyes locking with a heated expression before he'd begin to instinctively move his hips against yours.

You've never had sex in a position like this before. You always thought it'd feel a little awkward, but all you could think about was Tom and how good it felt to have his cock buried inside you after such a long time. You have no idea how you've managed to go without it after so long. Only now do you realize that it's become an addiction to be with Tom like this. Without it, you were a real mess.

He moved his hips up against yours with a steady pace. Neither of you intended to have this last as long as you used to. Even with your senses clouded by lust, you knew you were at a party. You felt his hot breath against your cheek as he leaned in to nip at your jaw, his hips moving faster and faster against yours. Both of you were panting and moaning as quietly as you could. It was so hard not to moan out loudly with his length hitting that sweet spot inside you over and over, even with such an odd angle. Your legs tightened around Tom when you felt a knot in your stomach, both of you letting out breathy moans until you'd suddenly feel Tom release inside you with a dark and shaky moan, tensing up against you as he filled you up warmly. It triggered your own climax, shivering against him with a shaky moan.

It wasn't until now that you realized what had happened, what you had just done with him. The lust and excitement had been fulfilled. It was gone, but you didn't feel refreshed or good. You felt ashamed. You felt embaressed, letting out a slight whimper as he pulled out of you.

You looked down at Tom, seeing a bit of regret in his own eyes, too, but also some...gladness.

"Wh-What is wrong with us?.." You asked, frowning some. "Why do you do this to me?.."

Tom understood how you were feeling, just by looking into your eyes. He may understand you better than anyone, even after all this time.

"I...I've never had this with anyone.." Tom admitted, blushing heavily. "I-I don't know why we have this affect on each other, b-but I miss it. I miss you."

Tom helped you stand on the floor again, blushing heavily as he got his boxer briefs and suit pants back on, letting you get your panties back on and straighten your dress. It was hard to feel any normal emotion with the alcohol still in your system. Its nearly impossible to think straight. You looked down shyly. "Tom, this isn't--"

"I love you."

You looked back up to him, seeing his kind blue eyes sparkling some as he gazed down at you. You felt your stomach churn and flutter, looking completely shocked. You thought you didn't hear him clearly enough.

"..What?.." You managed to speak, thought you were nearly speechless.

"I-I mean it.." Tom admitted, gently taking both of your hands. "I love you."

That embarrassment came back. You couldn't even find a place in your heart to feel happy. Your anxiety was flaring up. You haven't even taken your medication yet. You weren't supposed to be drinking.

Your friend. They've probably been waiting outside for a while now.

"I-I have to go.." You spoke, looking down as you swiftly moved past Tom, your cheeks completely red from embarrassment.

"(Y/N), wait!.." Tom reached out to you, but you were too quick for him to catch up to. You raced out of the bathroom with him following behind shortly before stopping just at the door frame. You wondered if people saw you leaving at the same time, but you didn't care. You just wanted to leave.

You couldn't face your feelings. Not tonight. Not after that.

#tom Hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom Hiddleston lemon #tom Hiddleston x Reader lemon #tom Hiddleston x you #steamy love #fanfiction #wattpad

[imagines-never-die]

Hello! I'd request a scenario where Soldier, Mccree and Mei (the most "scarred" characters imo) meet (one by one) a young, naive looking Water Nymph in a lake, where she tries to befriend them, maybe seduce them, and then ask to end her loneliness by bringing them to "her world" through a leap of faith: drowing in the water. If they accept or not, and how things end up going, I'll leave it to your creativity. (Bonus points if the Nymph also knows of the current loneliness of the protagonist)

(I added a break since this was gonna be long)

Soldier: 76

He had never noticed such a pretty girl sitting out by the lake before. The most he usually saw were herons and turtles, but never a naked girl with long hair reaching down past her bottom. Jack questioned if he should approach her, maybe ask if she was lost or needed help. After all, it wasn’t entirely warm out, and she must have been cold. Letting his chivalrous side win over, he trudged over to the lake where the girl was.

Before he even got to the water’s edge, she turned and smiled sweetly, “Hello, Soldier.”

Jack figured she had heard the rumors about Soldier: 76, and recognized him.

“What are you doing out here in the nude?” he asked bluntly.

“I live here, silly,” she gave a bubbly giggle, “Besides, I don’t need petty clothes.”

“You’ll catch your death otherwise,”

She laughed again, “I don’t get sick, Soldier. I’m above that.”

“Quit being so vague,” he grunted, “How did you get out here wearing nothing?”

“I told you, Soldier,” she said, pulling her hair back to reveal a set of gills on her neck, “I live here.”

The gills caught Jack off guard, making him flinch back a little. He wasn’t one to believe in superstition, so maybe it was just a makeup trick…

“As I said, Soldier,” she purred, “I live here. I’m a water nymph, or naiad if you will.”

“You’re crazy is what you are,” he sighed, grabbing her by the arm, “Come on, I can’t leave you out here.”

“You’re no fun!” she laughed, pulling back and getting him to sit beside the water’s edge with her, “Why is it that you’re so grumpy all the time.”

“Because you’re not listening to me,” he growled impatiently.

“Because you’re sad, Soldier,” she cooed sweetly, running a slender finger across his collar bone which Jack quickly swatted away, “You miss those old days soooo much.”

“What are you talking about?”

There was no way this loony could know…

“You lost everything, and now you’re all by your lonesome with nobody but your own reflection to keep you company,” he mumbled sadly.

It was…pathetically true. This was the first conversation Jack had had with anyone in weeks. Life as a vigilante kept him very removed.

“But I know how you feel,” the girl sighed wistfully, “My fellow sisters framed me for a murder and kicked me out of our tributary. Now I live alone in this lake and talk to my own reflection in the water…”

She turned to the lake, looking at her rippling reflection staring back at her, “But sometimes not even my reflection wants to talk to me,”

Morrison couldn’t help but feel a little bit of empathy for her. Whether she was crazy or not, she still sounded like she had been genuinely lonesome and ostracized. As far as he knew, not many came by this lake, so she would have been as solitary as she said.

“But it doesn’t have to be that way for us, Soldier.” she whispered, turning back to him.

Gently, she reached a webbed hand up to his face. He didn’t react, still too lost in thought to really notice or care. Her cold, wet hand wrapped around his visor and slowly pulled it off, revealing the sullen face of a broken man. Then she stroked his warm, gristly face.

“We can stay together and never be lonely again,” she promised with her melodic voice, “Come into my world, and you’ll never be so sad.”

His eyes locked with hers, and for a moment, he felt all his thoughts melt away into nothing. Suddenly all she had said seemed to make a lot of sense for some reason. The nymph began sliding back into the water, leading Jack by the hand, and for a moment, he began to lean towards the water. But the soldier’s resolve was too strong to be entranced for long. He suddenly pulled away, scrambling for his visor and snapping it back into place.

“Soldier…” she tried to stop him.

“You really are crazy,” he huffed, standing up and shaking his head, “I don’t need some self-proclaimed mermaid.”

“M-Mermaid?!” she felt insulted when people mixed her up for that, “Wait! Soldier, please!”

But Jack just kept walking. He knew he was alone in this world, and no “naiad’ was going to change that.

Mei

Adjusting to her new life in the present was difficult for Mei. So much had changed, so many of her friends and family had changed…or died. And it had all happened while she slept the years away in an icy prison. It didn’t help that she was the only survivor from that incident. Why her out of all the brilliant minds at that eco point? On days she was especially gloomy, Mei would go down to the river to mull things over on the the pebbly shores.

But one day as she came out of the woods and onto the water’s edge, she spotted someone in her usual spot. On a big rock laid a short girl with long, long hair and–well, that was it. She wasn’t wearing anything notable; nothing in fact. Sure it was a nice day for sunbathing, but doing it naked out in the open? It seemed a little too bold to Mei. She thought of just pretending the girl wasn’t there and went to the edge of the water, slipping off her shoes to feel the cool ripples.

But then the girl looked over from her spot and gave her a smile. Out of politeness, Mei smiled back and gave a timid wave back.

“Hi!” the girl chirped.

“Hi…” Mei said shyly back.

She wondered if she should ask, so eventually she did, “Why are you out here naked?”

“Enjoying the weather,” the girl shrugged.

“But…like that?” Mei asked tactfully.

“Of course. This is my river after all,” the girl shrugged.

“Your…river?”

“Yes, I’m one of the couple water spirits that rules this river,’ she replied simply.

That made Mei giggle. A water spirit? It was such a funny notion, but it had such a humorous tone that she decided to play along.

“A water spirit?”

“Indeed. I am a water nymph,” the nymph nodded.

“Ok then,” Mei chuckled along.

Sliding off the rock, the girl approached, her wet hair swaying from side to side. Mei tried to avert her gaze elsewhere.

“What’s your name?” the girl asked.

“M-Mei,” Mei blushed a little.

“I am Selena,” the nymph introduced herself, “Why are you out here, and why did you look so sad earlier?”

“Oh, uh…” Mei mumbled before taking a seat by the river, hugging her knees to her chest, “I just…I just get lonely sometimes. I mean, I haven’t been around people for years, so it’s difficult to adjust. What do people talk about these days?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t know,” the girl took a seat next to her, “I rarely talk to humans,”

Mei sighed, looking somberly out at the water, “I wish I was a nymph like you, Selena. I bet life is all sunshine and rainbow fish…”

“Actually it’s not,” the nymph sighed as well, “I get lonely sometimes, too. Like one of my bestest sisters in this whole river just got banished! My sisters said she did something unforgivable, but I just can’t believe it,”

“I’m sorry…” Mei mumbled, placing a hand on Selena’s shoulder.

The two sat in silence for a few moments, watching the river float by as they thought about their troubles. Suddenly, Selena perked up and hopped up from the shore.

“But it doesn’t have to be so lonely for us!” she grinned, “We can hang out together in my world, today!”

With that, she held out a hand that looked vaguely webbed to Mei.

Giving her a curious look, Mei echoed, “Your world?”

“Yeah! The river! Let’s go for a swim, Mei! Let’s hang out! I’ll be your friend, I promise!” Selena spouted excitedly.

Her first friend back in the present: a strange girl who called herself a water nymph. It was a strange start, but a start nonetheless.

“Urm…ok,” Mei got up and took off her shit to reveal a sports bra.

Carefully taking Selena’s hand, she let her lead them out into the water, wading further and further into the deep end. At first, Mei was happy to finally have a good day for once. But then Selena’s grip around her hand suddenly grew tighter and she began to walk faster and faster until they were waist deep in the water. Now Mei knew something was off.

“Selena, that kind of hurts,” she called out, but Selena didn’t answer.

“S-Selena!” she tried again.

This time when the nymph didn’t answer, Mei tried to pull away from her grasp only to get some surprisingly strong resistance from the girl. Now the two were struggling against each other as Selena tried to pull her deeper and Mei tried to go back to shore.

“C’mooon, Mei!” Selena turned to her with a scary grin, “We’re almost to my world!”

“i-I think th-this is deep enough,” Mei tried to reason.

“Come ON!” Selena gave one last tug, knocking Mei off her feet and sending her under the water.

Mei immediately felt Selena wrap her arms around her, keeping her from going back to the surface. She had no idea why her new friend was trying to hurt her, but she knew she had to get away! After a sufficient struggle, Mei began to run out of air, letting the rest of it out in a muffled, underwater scream. Amidst her scream, she finally got loose enough to slam a kick right into Selena’s face!

That got the nymph off her, so she made a mad dash for the shore, sending water splashing all around her. When she finally made it, she collapsed onto the rocks, gasping for breath and shaking all over. When she got her bearings around her, she looked back out to the river to see Selena’s peaking out at her from above the waves. She had a bloody nose and a black eye, although her blood appeared to be black. Selena looked hurt both emotionally and physically, and poor Mei couldn’t help but feel bad, even if she had just been nearly drowned. Giving her an apologetic look, Mei ran from the shore and back home.

McCree

Jesse wasn’t sure why a pretty young lady would be sitting naked by a pond by herself, but he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this was what fate handed him, he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Yer gonna catch a cold ya know,” was his opening line as he dropped his serape around her shoulders.

The girl blinked in surprise, feeling the smoothness of the fabric and wrapping it around herself. She gave Jesse a curious look as he sat next to her, stretching out his legs to dangle over the water.

“That’s one of the kinder reactions I’ve gotten,” the girl smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he tipped his hat, “Other men don’t know how to treat a lady sitting by a pond in her birthday suit?”

“Heeheehee!” the girl laughed, wrapping the serape around her tighter.

“Most try to scare me away of call me names,” she sighed.

“Doesn’t seem right,” he said.

“It’s not. People don’t know how to treat water nymphs these days,” she sighed.

A confused look crossed Jesse’s face as he turned to her and repeated, “Water what now?”

“A water nymph,” she clarified, “Spirits of springs, naiads. Thins like that,”

The cowboy chuckled and shook his head, “Forgive me if I don’t believe in fairytales, missy, but I suppose you can pretend to be whatever you want,”

“It’s not pretend,” she made a mock pout and crossed her arms.

As McCree pulled out a cigar to smoke, the nymph watched him carefully. It was so rare to see a human smoke so up close. Naiads never smoked simply because, well, they lived in water.

“Why did you come out here?” she asked, “Hardly anyone comes out to this pond,”

“Ah, I just,” McCree scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “Just come out here to clear my head sometimes,”

She looked at him closely again with big, ocean-colored eyes, “What’s on your mind?”

“Just, uh, life stuff,” he mumbled.

The nymph smirked and leaned in close, “Penny for your thoughts, I believe is the human expression?”

Jesse couldn’t help but let his eyes linger to her chest for a moment. Then he grumbled something inaudible as he looked away and considered telling her.

“I’m just one, little, isolated spirit. I won’t tell anyone, I promise,” she cooed sweetly.

“I’ve left so many people in my life,” he exhaled, “First my friends in Deadlock, then my own comrades in the war. Now I roam by myself trying to do good…but even then I’m still considered an outlaw. No matter how hard I try, it’s like I can’t shake my past,”

The girl’s expression slowly dropped as she leaned away from him again, twiddling her thumbs in thought.

“I know how you feel,” she said weakly, “I had to leave my sisters behind. One of them was going to kill me, so I had to run away. Now I feel guilty for leaving the others. They must think I’m dead…”

She noticed the way he looked over at her in pity, so she shook her head, “Oh now I’ve distracted you from your own problems. I didn’t mean to belittle your own life,”

“No, it’s fine,” McCree answered softly, “Have you ever thought about going back?”

“No…what if Melody is still there–I mean, the one who was trying to hurt me?” she mumbled, “And I might just make things worse. I’m better off dead to them.”

But no matter how hurt the little naiad was, she still couldn’t deny her instincts. Her instincts which told her to lure her prey.

“…But you don’t want me dead, do you?” she looked up at Jesse with pleading eyes.

Trying to keep himself from getting too excited by a naked girl looking at him with adorable bedroom eyes, McCree cleared his throat and looked the other way in embarrassment.

“Um…I mean I’ve known ya for a few minutes, but I guess I can’t say I’d want you dead,” he sputtered, “Don’t know anyone who would want a pretty lady like you dead.

“And I wouldn’t want you to leave behind,” she said in a sing-song voice, “But even if you did, I’d forgive you. I’d never forget you~”

“C’mon, don’t say–” McCree started to say, turning back to the girl. 

But he found she had moved a lot closer to him now, her damp skin right up against his flannel shirt. She looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes. Fuck, this girl was going to be the end of him. She slowly started to lean closer to him until her lips were inches from his. Then she waited for him to meet her halfway, which he gladly did.

They kissed for a second before the nymph tried to deepen the kiss, begging for entrance to his mouth.

But McCree couldn’t help but pull  back a little and whisper, “Darlin’, I don’t even know your name,”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s Persephone, you dummy,” she smiled and pressed her lips to his again.

But no matter how many times she tried to French it with him, something kept holding him back from parting his lips! How was she supposed to get the toxins in his system if he didn’t open his mouth!? Growing impatient, she began to lower herself into the pond, trying to lead him along with her.

“Wait, where ya goin’?” he asked.

“I’m a water nymph, remember?” she smiled mischievously, “It’ll be better in the water.”

Now Jesse knew things were going too far.

Taking off his hat to fan himself and running a hand through his hair, he stammered, “Heh, I–uh–think we should get you dry first. Maybe some clothes.”

Seeing her hurt expression he quickly added, “Yer a nice girl, don’t get me wrong, just that…I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you is all,”

“But you’re not,” she whined, holding out a hand to him, “I’m offering myself, so help yourself,”

Jesse stared at her slightly webbed hand for a few moments, clearly thinking it over. Then he darted his hand out and took hers, but rather than let her pull him in, he yanked her out of the pond with an immense force. She squeaked out of surprise, especially when he scooped her up in his arms.

“W…What are you doing, human?!” she protested.

“Gettin’ you some dinner and somethin’ suitable to wear,” he said casually, heading off back to his ranch.

“You will not!” she squealed, “I want to be in my pond!”

“You said you’re a naiad? So you like fish? I got some sardines back at home,” he chuckled.

Persephone couldn’t help but feel her tummy growl. It was clear this human wasn’t worth the trouble of trying to eat…so maybe some little pickled fish would be worth it.

(*DIES* THAT TOOK FOREVER :O)

#overwatch imagine #mythical creature event #soldier 76 #jack morrison #mccree #jesse mccree #mei #mei ling zhou