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szasfuckingwife · 3 days

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MEMORIES

A/N: angst. Just angst!😁

Sunflowers were Geto’s favourite. You remember, he doesn’t. When he first met you, in your schools gardens, he couldn’t stop talking about the supposed ‘healing’ powers of the plant.

He liked lattes at his favourite café. You remember, he doesn’t. When you mentioned to him that you worked at a café, Geto wanted to see what it all was about. That’s where he fell in live with your ethic. Seeing you, behind the counter, working like a madman just to serve something as simple as coffee had him head over heels.

Never, ever, has Suguru ever liked musicals. You remember, he doesn’t. Yet, he knows each one you like, and could recall the lyrics if given the opportunity. One secret he’ll always keep is that he very much enjoyed his time watching Hairspray in theatres with you.

He hates smoking. You remember, he doesn’t. It’s simple: Suguru hates smoking because you hate it. Ever since he picked up the trait, you were never a fan. It even caused a mini argument when you flushed his cigarettes down the toilet.

Mornings were nice to Suguru. You remember, he doesn’t. Mornings where he kisses your side, whispers sweet nothings into your ear about how much he loves you and how you’re a ‘good girl’ for him. Mornings are even better when he feels your tight cunt wrap around him.

He hates arguing. You remember, he doesn’t. It’s something you did frequently because you were so in love. Whether it was about jealousy or money or whatever. Call it toxic, but you always loved him. There were times you guys had to physically be apart from each other. That’s what caused Suguru to drive down freeway that night, raging and not concentrated on the road.

All that filled his head was you. Did you want to leave him? Was it over? What about the ring he bought? What now?! The questions circled his mind as he tried to answer them. It was a shame he didn’t notice the massive truck lights that were soon to crash into his car.

Suguru hated that he couldn’t remember. You remember, but why doesn’t he? What sunflowers? Where did you used to work? Everything was a blur, from the moment he woke up in the hospital bed with your soft hands over his, to when he came home to see your pictures hung around the apartment.

Who was he?

Your heart broke the day the doctors told you that he was suffering from amnesia after his brain surgery. He was never himself again. More disassociated and more angry.

It wasn’t your Suguru. The one you remember, and the one he doesn’t.

this is my poor attempt in explaining getos personality change in a nonjujutsu!world😁

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #geto suguru angst #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu geto #geto x you #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jjk geto #geto suguru

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girlboypersonthingy · 2 days

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Could you maybe write a Sally Face One Shot, where Sal developed a huge crush on reader. But he thinks she doesn’t feel the same way. So he writes a love letter in which he puts no hope in, but then she actually tells him she does feel the same.

Does that even make any sense?😭

Yes…it makes sense and I’m weeping over this omggggg 😭😭😭 bruh this had me screaming and kicking in bed as I wrote it omfgggggg. Sal is pretty smart so I know this mf would write some pretty, thought out, poetic type shit

Notes: gn!reader, established friendship, friends to lovers trope

TW: none, just so fucking sappy and fluffy

Sal x reader- Sincerely Sally 💌

Dear (Y/N),

I want to start by telling you that you’re an amazing friend. I’m beyond grateful we’ve met. You’ve always made me feel so comfortable, so wanted, so important. No words could ever truly explain my feelings for you or the thoughts behind them, but I’m going to try.

Since we met, I’ve seen nothing but good in you and I think you’ve made me good, too. You make me feel good. You make me a better person. I don’t know who I’d be without you, but I know who I want to be now.

I want to be the one on your arm when we walk into a room.

I want to be the one you wake up to every morning and fall asleep next to every night.

I want to kiss you every time we say ‘good bye’ and every time we say ‘hello’ again.

I want to be the one you point to with a smile and say ‘him’ when talking to others.

I want to be the one to hold you when you cry.

I want to be the one to hug you when you’re excited.

I want to go every where you go.

I want to slow dance with you.

I want to head bang with you.

I want to paint with you.

I want to sing to you.

I want to hold you.

I want you.

I love you.

I’m in love with you.

And I’m sorry.

Sincerely,

Sally <3

Sal felt like a total loser while sneaking over to your place, which was just down the street from Todd’s house, and slipping the letter in your mailbox. He felt like he could puke just from writing the letter, there’s no way he could ever say these things to your face. He couldn’t help but hesitate, staring at the mailbox as his heart beat rapidly in his chest. ‘They’re going to hate me. I’m gonna ruin everything. What the hell am I doing?’ Sal thinks to himself, staying frozen in place for a good few minutes as thousands of thoughts race through his mind, shaky hands stuffed in his hoodie pockets.

He jumps a bit when he notices the light in your bedroom flick on through your window. He ducks his head and turns to leave, not wanting to get caught lurking around your house in the middle of the night. As he rushes back home, the panic begins to set in because now he realizes he left it…he left the letter behind. It was done. No turning back. He felt sick to his stomach and like he was already grieving the loss of your friendship.

Sal tip toes back in the house, praying neither Neil nor Todd would catch him sneaking in so late and ask questions. He trudges to his room, shedding his clothes before flopping onto his bed. Sal lays on his side and after taking his prosthetic off, stares at the wall for hours thinking about all the ways this could go wrong, all the ways you could reject him, every excuse and lie he could use later to act like it wasn’t even serious, like it was a dumb joke or something. Finally, after his brain had tortured him enough, he drifts off to sleep just before the sun begins to rise.

~next morning~

‘Holy shit…’ You think as you hold the piece of lined note book paper in your shaky hands. “No way…no way!” A giddy smile grows on your face as you clumsily drop all the other mail you had in your hands, besides Sal’s letter, on the ground and take off running for him. It was early in the morning and you were in pajamas still but nothing could stop you now. His house was not far at all and you were too excited not to immediately run to him and profess your love for him.

You and Sal had been friends almost as long as he has with Larry and Todd. You’ve slowly fallen in love with him just as hard as he has with you- the issue is that you are both dummies and think the other person sees you as a friend and a friend only. You’d find yourself dreaming of Sal, not knowing he was dreaming of you too. You’d absentmindedly doodle his name on piece of paper and blush, he’d find a strand of your hair on his shirt and smile so big under his mask. You two have been pining for so long but both so afraid to wreck the relationship you already have. Eventually, Sal felt like he couldn’t get anything done, couldn’t focus on his studies or the ghosts or even eating throughout the day. His brain was full, flooded even, with thoughts of you. He just had to get it out, he had to say it to you now or he would be haunted by it forever. Unbeknownst to Sal…you felt the exact same way.

Bouncing up to his doorstep with an uncontrollable smile on your face, cheeks aching and turning red, you knock on the door and ball your fists up out of excitement. Finally, Todd answers the door, smiling at you before greeting you. “(Y/N)! What are you doing here so early? We-“ “Sal! I-I’m sorry. I need to talk to Sal.” You interrupt, your crazy smile making Todd chuckle softly just as Neil comes up behind him. “Morning, (Y/N)! Sal isn’t up yet. He’s still-“

You weren’t trying to be rude, you adored Todd and Neil but you were currently completely 100% hyperfixated on the sleeping blue haired poet behind the door at the end of the hall way and you just had to see him immediately. “I-I’m sorry…” You laugh softly as you push past them, sprinting for his door, gripping the knob excitedly before swinging the door open. The sound of the door swinging back against the door frame stirs Sally from his sleep, making him groan and glance over at the doorway. Before he can react to you being in his bedroom, in your pajamas still with bed head and an adorable love sick smile on your face, you’re jumping into his blankets with arms wide open. As you practically belly flop on top of him, he huffs softly then chuckles, groggily blinking at you.

“Uh…morning…” He mumbles just before you place the folded love letter on his chest, giving him a small smirk. His eyes open wider now, his prosthetic eye not in its usual socket. Sal scrambles nervously to sit up more, his breath hitching in his throat. He was so half asleep for a moment there, he had forgotten all about the letter he planted in your mailbox last night. “Oh I uh….yeah uh-uhm-“ Sal can’t seem to move his mouth correctly, can’t focus his brain on the words he wants to say. And he just breaks down even more when he realizes you’re in his bed, still in pajamas with the cutest messiest bed head. He can’t deal with the cuteness and his gnawing anxiety…So you speak up instead.

“I love you too.” You smile sweetly before pulling yourself up closer to his scarred face and rubbing your nose against his. Sal lets out a whiny little hum as he lets his nervous hands very slowly move up to rest on your back, smiling like a sappy dork as he hugs you softly. He’s not sure what exactly he was expecting to happen after giving you that letter but this is most definitely the best case scenario. “Let’s just…fucking kiss already.” You say with a cheeky smile, eyes half lidded as you lean in closer. Sal sucks in a breath before letting his eyes close along with yours, pursing his lips out as his hands move up your arms and to your cheeks. His big palms caress your face so perfectly, his thumbs sliding back and forth over your skin as you lock lips, gently moving your mouths together as soft sighs leave both of you.

As his hands pull your face closer, your hands wander up and down his bare arms, legs tangled up in his blankets along with him now, you couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh against his lips. “I’m glad you finally told me…that letter was so beautiful.” You whisper, lips gently ghosting against his now. Sal keeps his eyes closed but smiles brightly. “I wrote 153 of those letters.” He confesses, face burning bright red. “No you didn’t.” You scoff, looking down at him, finding this fact hilarious and also adorable and flattering.

“Oh yes he did!” Todd and Neil are leaning in the open doorway. Oops…you got so excited you didn’t shut the door behind you when you ran in. “Proof!” Neil laughs out loudly as he points to Sal’s trash can in the corner of the room, overflowing with balled up pieces of paper. You laugh as you look over, Neil and Todd laughing along with you. Sal drapes an arm over his face, trying to hold back his flustered smile and embarrassed expression. “Stoopppp.” He complains before you’re standing and playfully glaring at the two boys in the doorway. “That’s enough teasing. Shoo!” You grin at Todd before shutting the door on them and turning back to Sal.

“153, huh? Wow. That’s some dedication, lover boy.” You climb back into his bed, sitting cross legged beside him. “Why didn’t you just tell me in person, Sal? Would’ve been way easier.” You scoot closer to him and run your fingers through his tangled hair. “Uh, I totally disagree. I nearly had a panic attack just putting that letter in your mailbox and then having to walk away from it.” A laugh rings out from you as you toss your head back. “Ha! So, What? You’re afraid to say you love me but not afraid of ghosts or demons or cults?” You taunt him before leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a second. “You’re strange. And I love that about you.” You rest there with him for a moment before a fantastic idea hits you, making you sit up and gasp excitedly.

“Can I read the other ones too?!” Before Sal can answer, you’ve jumped up and ran to the rejected pile of love letters in the corner. “No! (Y/N)! No no nononononono!” Sal jumps up and runs to tackle you, his face blushing so red from his ears and down his neck. You laugh loudly as he wraps his arms around your waist and tries to pull you away from all the other embarrassing things he wrote and considered saying to you. “They’re…in the trash…for a reason!” He laughs and huffs as you you push forward, trying to reach even just one crumpled up piece of paper. “Pleeaaassseeeee?” You plead but your strength leaves you as Sal tickles you and has you cackling on the ground instantly.

And the next 10 minutes are spent wrestling with him on the floor of his bedroom while laughing like drunk idiots and occasionally pressing a kiss to the other’s lips. Eventually, you do get ahold of a few of the discarded love letter drafts and they are either like Shakespeare poetry type shit, or so fucking dorky and corny, full of puns and shit. Larry probably tried to help him with that one lol

#sally face x reader #sally face fanfic #sally face fanfiction #sal sally face #sally face sal #sally x reader #sal x reader #sal fisher #sally fisher #sally face #sal fisher x you #sal fisher x reader #sf sal #sally face fluff #sal fisher x y/n

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angelasscribbles · 3 days

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All That She Wants Chapter 2: Waylaid

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 827

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: sexual innuendo, infidelity

My other stuff: Master List.

Drake Walker was nothing if not predictable.

Every morning started with a protein shake, followed by a five-mile run. He worked out regularly in the gym with the rest of his unit, but on his days off he could be found poolside.

Swimming was good cardio and a nice way to change up his workout routine.

He pulled himself out of the water and headed for his towel.

“Looking good there, Walker.”

He froze, towel in one hand, water still dripping from his body. He’d know that voice anywhere. Struggling for composure, he forced his body to move. He toweled off quickly as he turned toward her. “Hey, Brooks. What are you doing out here in the middle of a workday?”

“Relaxing. I decided I needed a little me time, so I took it.”

His eyebrow arched as he tried to figure out why she was giving him a pass for the use of her maiden name. She usually reminded him promptly and imperiously that her name was Rys now.

As if he could forget that detail.

She held up a glass of iced tea with an inviting smile. “Want some?”

Shivers cascaded down his spine at the teasing lilt in her tone. His mouth went dry as he fought against every instinct that he had not to let his eyes wander over her body. He cleared his throat and glanced away before nodding. “Sure.”

“Well, come on then, sit.” She patted the outdoor chaise lounge next to her.

He sat down gingerly as he checked her out surreptitiously from his peripheral vision.

She was still just as beautiful as she had been all those years ago when he’d walked into that bar in New York. He had made his play for her during the engagement tour.

She had fucked him on a pool table and then gotten engaged to his best friend without so much as a conversation in between.

Riley gave him a scintillating smile as she handed him his own glass. Iced tea was a drink she had brought to the palace with her from America. Not that he was any stranger to it, being half Texan.

All of which begged the question, why did she have two glasses? He glanced around the pool area but saw no one else present. Was she waiting for someone? But if so, why offer the second glass to him?

Pushing his nerves, and his questions aside, he reached for the glass, his fingers brushing against hers, sending an electric jolt sparking through him. He dropped his eyes away from her as he muttered a barely audible, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she purred. “And what do I get in exchange?”

His head snapped up, his eyes frantically searching her face for clues about this new development.

Was she flirting with him?

The thought sent a thrill of excitement racing through him, chased by a wave of pure terror.

His feelings for her had never changed, but her feelings had always been, and remained, a complete mystery to him.

She was never rude to him. She was always polite. Quite often friendly. But never flirty. Not since that night in Paris.

Had that night meant anything to her? Or did she view it as a meaningless fling? He didn’t know, and he’d never asked.

His heart was pounding in his chest like a jackrabbit on Red Bull as he sat the untouched glass on the table next to him and then leaned toward her. “What do you want?”

She leaned forward as well, closing what little distance was left between them. Her head tipped back to peer up at him with a sparkle in her eyes that he had seen once before. His gaze dipped to her lips as her tongue darted out to moisten them, then darted back to her eyes as she whispered, “What if I said…. you?”

A million questions exploded through his brain. He knew he should ask why, or at least why now. It would be prudent to inquire what exactly she meant by him. His body? His heart? For an hour? Forever?

So many questions tumbled through him, but none of them found their way to the tip of his tongue.

The heat in her eyes gave the most immediate answers he needed. She wanted him, physically, right now.

Drake Walker was nothing if not predictable and perhaps the most predictable thing about him was his loyalty to Liam Rys. Which made his next move almost unthinkable, but the deepest desire of his heart was being dangled in front of him and he was taking it.

He was afraid any undue conversation might kill the unexpected opportunity that had just inexplicably opened up in front of him. Pushing his emotions deep down inside, something he was an expert at, he returned her seductive smile with one of his own as he stood and offered her his hand. “I’d say, what are we waiting for?”

#the royal romance #trr #drake walker #the royal romance fanfic #trr au #trr fanfic #trr au fanfic #angelasscribbles #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week

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rosepinksky · 3 days

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Pay For My Time (pt. 7)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x OFC

In which Ghost's neighbour drags him in for dinner, and then ruins his life.

Warnings: cunnilingus, PIV sex (all consensual!)

word count: 2.5k

ao3 link

part 1 (smutty!)

masterlist

Despite my penchant for drunken late nights, I had always been one to wake with the sun. It had been my undoing in university; never able to sleep past 6am in the summer despite all the money I’d poured into heavy-duty blackout curtains. Countless days spent nursing coffee after coffee just to clear the thick fog of exhaustion in my brain, but sleep still never coming despite hours spent curled up trying to nap in the afternoon.

So it was foreign, the sensation of utter comfort this morning, my muscles so relaxed as I curled up under the duvet and into the chest of this man. He was just barely stirring too, gaze softened without the burden of cognisance hitting him yet.

I offered him a small smile, nudging my cheek against his shoulder. It was returned, and a slow, lingering kiss pressed to my forehead through the fabric of his mask. It wasn’t until Simon pulled back that he let out a soft chuckle, my smile falling as a frown pulled at my brows.

��What?”

He dragged the pad of his thumb over the corner of my lips, and I could see the skin stained with a faded red.

“Your makeup, sweet thing. Didn’t take it off last night.”

I groaned, rolling onto my back to grab blindly at the pack of cheap makeup wipes on the bedside table. I dragged one across my cheek, stubborn particles of glitter scraping at my skin.

“Here, let me.” He murmured, taking the wipe and swiping at across my lips far more gently than I had. His expression turned serious with concentration, and I really couldn’t help but smile at his dedication to the mundane task. There was something domestic about it, something so bizarrely intimate yet it didn’t make me want to bolt out of the room away from it quite yet.

Seemingly satisfied, he let the wipe drop onto the sheets, but kept his hand brushing against my skin. His hand drifted lower, thumb dipping beneath the neckline of the soft cotton tee. His other arm shifted from underneath the pillow, squeezing lightly at my waist.

I inhaled, gaze dropping to his lips, the mask still tucked up over the bridge of his nose. He smirked, almost imperceptibly, as his hands curled tighter around my middle, pulling me in against his body.

“Now, pet…I do remember you being fucking difficult last night.” His voice was gentle, almost eerily so. “I’m almost in two minds about making you feel good right now.”

I bit the inside of my lip, my willingness to sass back at him almost zero right now.

“I was…drunk. And pissed off about being left high and dry. I’m sorry.”

That seemed to do the trick, because almost immediately he was tugging me into the centre of the mattress underneath him, knocking my legs apart with his knees.

“At least you’ve some humility.” He chuckled, leaning down to nip at the exposed skin of my stomach where the shirt had ridden up. “…God, ‘s not like I could turn you down right now anyway. Look too fucking tempting.”

I gasped, back arching up off of the mattress as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin once more.

“Mmph, don’t tease, I- I can’t-“

My weak attempt at pleading was swiftly cut off by another low chuckle.

“It’s okay, princess. Not gonna make you wait, not this time.” He murmured as his lips dipped lower, fingers abandoning my waist in favour of crushing the flesh of my thighs in his grip. He took in a long, greedy exhale of my bare core, lips slick with saliva as he pressed them against the tender skin.

“God, can’t wait to taste you again…you smell fucking divine.”

He wasted no time in diving in, lapping at the slick of my pussy like he’d gone without water for days. A strangled moan was torn from my throat, my fingers clutching tightly at the short curls on his scalp. I felt him twitch a little as my nails bit into his skin, but it seemed to only spur him on further as he pushed his tongue inside of me.

“Fuck, Simon, don’t stop, that feels good-“ I gasped, my breath starting to visibly pick up. I pressed my hips further down towards him, legs twitching and begging to clamp down over his ears. He kept me still, though, those strong hands rubbing small circles into the space behind my knees as he pushed them down into the mattress.

The vibration of his moan against my clit had me almost folding over in half, a sharp breath filling my lungs with ice as my eyes flew open. I met his gaze- his dark, starving gaze- and wanted to cum on the spot. He never let up on his ministrations as he held eye contact with me, just slipping a hand under my ass to grope at it as his tongue worked me closer and closer to oblivion.

I tried to speak, but all that escaped my lips was a pitiful whine, the shocks from my pussy down my legs forcing me to curl up my toes and scrunch my eyes shut. I tried to beg him to keep going, to not break his rhythm, but I found myself utterly unable to speak. It didn’t seem to matter, though, because he didn’t falter, just licking and sucking and drooling over my pussy like he needed it to survive.

I felt my arms moving up of their own accord, tweaking and tugging at my nipples, and I could just barely feel his lips quirk up in an approving smile as the added stimulation drove me closer to the edge.

When I came, it wasn’t with a dignified muffled moan as it often was when I worked myself alone. It was with a breathless, almost pained cry, the sharp end of my nails pressing so hard into my tits I swore the skin almost broke. Simon didn’t pull away immediately; in fact, it felt like he pushed himself closer, lapping up the wetness from between my thighs like a sinner kneeling before the communion cup.

I collapsed back down against the mattress. I couldn’t do anything except stare at the ceiling, vision hazy as I listened to both of our laboured breaths in the quiet room.

It took a few moments for him to drag himself back up over me, into my field of view. His lips held a lazy smirk as he tucked a wayward strand of hair behind my ear, the flush just faintly visible over his jaw making my own cheeks warm even further.

“…Please fuck me.” I whispered.

Silence hung between us for a second, and I wondered what was going through his mind.

Hesitance? Guilt? Reluctance?

I got my answer when his smirk widened into a grin, and he crashed his lips against mine.

Ghost and I had kissed before. I’d tasted the faint residue of tobacco on his lips, the spearmint toothpaste he used, as his tongue pressed into mine with an urgency akin to an addict pushing down the first hit of their drug.

But not Simon. No, in this moment, I realised I’d never kissed Simon. His lips felt different, the way he cupped my jaw and pressed his weight into me. It felt new, and genuine, and vulnerable.

I realised at the same moment, that this was his first time kissing Lucy, too.

No more Violet. No more calculated persona, no rehearsed responses to his touch. Just a man and a woman indulging sinfully and religiously in each other.

I didn’t notice that he’d pulled his boxers off. I felt him press his cock against me, and moaned against his lips, brows creasing together in desperate anticipation.

He kissed me harder as he pushed himself into me, the sharp sting of the stretch mollified by his sweet tongue. He paused, drawing back to gaze down at me, eyes asking the silent question.

I nodded without a second of hesitation.

He groaned at his first rock into me, fisting the bedsheets beside my head.

“Shit, Luce, you feel better than fucking heroin.”

If I’d been anywhere other than my current state of bliss, I would’ve made a snarky remark about neither of us knowing what the hell heroin felt like. Hopefully.

“More.” I rasped, pulling him closer to me by the nape of his neck. “Please, Si, give me more.”

He growled in response, bullying his cock into me faster and harder. I cried out, nipples pressed into his chest and sending delicious little flutters through my core at the sensation. I pushed my hips up, trying to meet his thrusts, and his breath stuttered at the action.

“Fuck, god, need to have you on top of me. Need to see your face.”

I nodded, even though I was mostly incoherent. Not entirely aware of what I’d agreed to, I let him flip us over so that I was settled above him as he lay with his head sinking into the pillow. I steadied myself with a hand splayed on his chest, panting as I stared down at him.

I began to move with a tentative rock of my hips. The response was immediate, Simon biting his lip as his head pressed further back into the soft material behind him. I grew in confidence as I found my angle, bouncing up and down on him and letting my head loll back as the mind-numbing pleasure took over my senses once again.

He groaned, the sound deep and rough and intoxicating, his hands flying up to my hips to help support my weight as I rode him within an inch of my life.

“Yes, yes, that’s it, sweet girl. Make yourself cum. Make me cum. Ride that fucking dick.” He panted, his grip tightening as he started to manoeuvre me up and down himself, setting a pace I couldn’t quite keep up with.

I let my head fall forward, meeting his eyes with a wordless plea on my lips. He let out a moan at my expression, hips snapping upwards into mine at such a rate I could feel my diaphragm catching.

“Gonna fucking cum. Gonna fucking cum inside you, come on girl, cum around me. Need to see that face.”

I had no defences left. I broke like a dam around him, every muscle in my body contracting as I let myself climax around his cock. He groaned, the sound strained and utterly animal, and I swore my orgasm doubled the second I felt his cum spurt in fucking ropes against my insides.

Neither of us moved for a long moment, aside from his hand sliding up along my back to support me. I drew in deep, rapid breaths, just staring down at him as he lay underneath me.

He seemed to do the same. Neither of us spoke, just a silent understanding that that was different.

Not fucking. Not hooking up. Making love.

I jumped to my feet, knees buckling the second I put weight on them. His arms immediately shot out to steady me, but I brushed him away as I found balance with my hand against the wall.

“You, uh…you want some coffee?” I asked, cringing internally at how stupid it sounded.

He stared at me for a long moment.

“…You should probably shower. I can handle breakfast.”

Too cock-dumb to argue and too sleep-deprived to know better, I nodded, the thought of warm water over my already pliant muscles a prospect too tempting to resist.

I grabbed a towel and a fresh pair of pyjamas without another word, waiting until I heard the click of the bathroom door to let out a breath.

I stared at one crack in the porcelain tiles as I showered.

Don’t do this, Lucy. You’ve been here before.

…But Simon wasn’t him. Simon wasn’t basking me in adoration and gifts and dates. He was accepting of the fuck-buddy relationship, maybe pushing the boundary a smidge with the morning-after sex, but this wasn’t commitment. This was pure, primal sexual attraction, and it’s not as if he would even want a relationship given the nature of his job.

Oh, dear god, his job.

There was no way he didn’t see my reaction to the reveal last night. The thought, the thought of him absolutely decimating some band of criminals without so much as a crack in his demeanour had set every nerve inside of me ablaze.

Would he be soaked in blood? I thought. Would he come home to me, still in his dirty uniform, and take out all of that pent-up aggression on my pussy?

…Jesus, I needed to go back to therapy.

I shut off the water, towel drying my hair and tugging on a random top and pair of joggers. I padded through towards the kitchen, pausing only when I heard that familiar baritone echo through the hallway.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m aware, MacTavish. No, she’s not interfering. She’s a fucking stripper, it’s not as if I’m ring shopping.”

I would’ve been lying if I’d said I hated to eavesdrop.

“…Yeah, she’s hot. She’s also not a serious thing, so back off.”

I chose that moment to step into the kitchen, tugging at the knots in my wet hair as he stood in the corner on his phone. I smirked.

“You gonna let me say hi to your friend?”

Simon’s expression dropped. I could vaguely hear a voice shouting down the other end of the phone, but he hung up the call almost immediately after seeing me appear.

“…Stupid friend. Ignore him.”

I chuckled, brushing past him to pop a pod into the coffee maker.

“Seems like he was pretty clued in about me. Feels a little unfair that I don’t get to know about him.”

Simon bristled.

“Don’t wanna share you.”

Ah. Now that piqued my interest.

“Jealous boy, hmm? Don’t want MacTavish touching what’s yours?”

In an instant, his hands were on me, caging me against the countertop.

“I know you’re a whore.” He breathed, his tone dangerous. “I can’t stop you from sleeping with every sleaze that ticks your boxes at the club. But you will not sleep with my teammates.”

I tipped my chin up, meeting his gaze defiantly. “So rude of you to call me a whore.”

He smirked, fingers trailing along my jaw. “Didn’t seem to mind it when I was making you cum.”

I held eye contact for a long moment, a mixture of amusement and annoyance swimming in my expression. “I like your cheek a whole lot less when I’m level-headed.”

He chuckles, dipping down to press a kiss to my lips. “And I like you a lot more when you’re sober.”

tag list! <3 @simpxinnie

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 2 days

Text

It had been a crazy dream. The craziest dream Sirius had ever had. But oh God! How good it had felt to be kissed like that, to be touched like that.

Sirius woke up sweating from head to toes, with blushy cheeks and a very hard member.

"Toujours Pur!" The voice of his Grandmother echoed in his brain. All the awful things she had said about people like that. "Filthy people like that deserved only hell"

"Cissy boy" His Grandfather used to groan when Sirius had his hair a bit too long. "They are going to think you're a girl with that hair. Or worse. One of those..."

"A bloody ponce, that one" Orion always said about Alphard all the time "Filthy mind, filthy man. Being too much with him is going to turn you into a faggot."

"Don't cry, Sirius. You're such a pussy" Bellatrix used to tease, making her friends laugh at Sirius. He had been a kid. "Are you ever going to please a girl? Uncle and Auntie would have to pay someone to be your wife. Nancy boy!"

What would they say now? Having such a dream with none other than his best friend.

It was common for teenage boys to fantasize. Sirius had heard many times how James had dreamt about Evans. Even teased him when he whispered things in his sleep. James talked about Evans' body a lot. And loved to stare when the girl wore a tight blouse or a short skirt.

And Peter had fantasies about many girls from his magazines. Even girls at Hogwarts he found hot. He kept posters of sexy birds in bikinis and stared at girls in P. E. all the time. The boys teased him for that.

Now, Remus... Sirius had never heard of Remus's fantasies. If he fantasized at all. Who did he think about? Was it boys or girls? Sirius hadn't even think about it. Remus was just Remus. Moony. Sirius’s friend. Sirius’s confident. So sweet and funny and tender.

Now out of nowhere, Remus had been in Sirius’s dream. And what a dream. Not like his best friend. Someone who made Sirius see stars. Someone who Sirius had desired and found absolutely sexy. Someone he wanted to do nasty things to.

He couldn't get that image of Remus's face with red cheeks, his lips wet in anticipation and that hair... Uff... Those curls were wild above his head. Sirius had wanted to pull it and ran his fingers through it.

Now the next morning all Sirius felt was shame. His mind had been playing a real trick with him.

Sirius had to admit he had imagined women in his mind. Usually just body parts he got from magazines. Never with an specific face, color of hair, color of eyes. No one real to fantasize about. Not even with his last girlfriend Julie, Sirius had dreamt of such filthy things.

So why did Remus... REMUS... had to appear like that?? Sirius was going insane.

"What's wrong, Padfoot?" Remus asked when Sirius made an excuse when he asked him to go for a cigarette.

"What?" Sirius was busy 'looking' for something on his bag. Only not to stare into those eyes.

"You've been weird all morning" Remus said "You've been avoiding me... Are you angry? Have I done something wrong?"

Sirius looked up only because he heard desperation in Remus's voice. He looked confused. And very cute with those pouty eyes.

"No, of course not" Sirius faked a smile "Sorry... Have a lot of things on my mind. I didn't sleep well last night".

Because I was dreaming about you, Moony.

His cheeks burnt only remembering it.

Sirius wondered how well Remus kissed. If he would feel the dry skin of those lips. If it would be soft to ran his fingers through that hair. If his skin was warm and if those hands could touch his skin in that way...

Fuck! What was wrong with Sirius? Was he blushing?

Faggot, faggot, faggot...

Sirius was only confused. Ever since what happened that summer. Everything with his Uncle. The confused thoughts. The confused feelings. Sirius was only probably going insane.

Sirius couldn't like Remus. Not only because he was a boy. But because they were best friends. Sirius didn't want to ruin what they had. They had found each other again just recently. Sirius didn't want to lose him.

And honestly speaking, Remus deserved better than whatever mess Sirius was.

Faggot, faggot, faggot... Coward!

"Sirius? Sirius!!" Remus snapped his fingers in front of his nose. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Sirius was an idiot.

"I asked if you were going to Biology with the others"

"You're not going?"

Remus tapped the cigarettes' pack.

"Popping out for one first. You said you didn't want to come"

Sirius was just confused. He had to drown whatever he was feeling. It had been just a dream. And dreams were crazy sometimes.

Sirius smiled "You know what? I think I'm gonna go with you. God knows I need a fag right now..." a pause "A cigarette, I mean!!" he added quickly feeling ashamed of what that could have meant.

Remus stared. If he found something odd with Sirius, he didn't say. Even though Sirius noticed the caramel tone of his eyes.

"Okay" Remus shrugged in amusement.

"Let's go" Sirius nodded.

As they went, Sirius thought it was alright. One time, he heard how Rick Stevens had a crazy dream about how McGonagall slashed him in the tush for being nauthy. "She even wore a spandex" he had said. The guy was teased for several weeks after that. He had even been called "cat whisperer" for a while by the Rugby Team.

Dreams were messy and weird all the time. Sirius was probably going to forget about it when he found a hot bird to fantasize about next.

Moony was special. He was very important for Sirius. So probably that part of his brain used him. But Sirius knew that Remus was always going to be his best friend. And that was it.

Sirius hadn't done anything wrong. He hadn't kissed him or touched him. So he wasn't guilty of sin. And he would never be.

#Obviously inspired by the song Guilty as Sin by Taylor Swift #That song is so Sirius Black having a gay crisis #marauders #maraudersera #muggleau #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #guilty as sin?#the tortured poets department #taylor swift

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