#I do wonder what finally made him call it quits and hole up in the sarcophagus

[theirwolfbicanthrope]

finally got my hands on the Fangoria Nosferatu issue! wish there had been more new images but the cover is still gorgeous.

Also learned two things about lore/worldbuilding which are important for fic related reasons -

A) Wisburg/Wisborg is on the Baltic coast so...yeah that ship journey is even longer now (I was pretty sure I saw or heard someone mention it was on the Baltic sea before but could not remember for certain)

B) According to Eggers, (ETA: my bad! quote itself is from Craig Lathrop, the production designer - in reference to why they didn't solely rely on real world locations for Orlok's castle) Orlok went to sleep "100 years" before Ellen "reawakened him" - which based on the 'Orlok is from the late 1500s/Orlok is 300 years old' math, means he was vamping it up for around 130-140 years I think? Plenty of time to instill some long lasting fear and local gossip that I'm sure got kicked up quite a bit after Ellen crashed his big nap.

[sweetassugar]

You’re a snitch some may call it but your official title is a spy. You’ve been behind enemy lines for quite some time and you were about to get exported out until one wrong move and you found yourself in enemy hands. They had your hands tied to the ceiling yet enough slack for you to comfortably stay bent over if you wanted to. You had been a spy long enough to know torture was the only answer for what was going to happen to you so when a masked man walked in with a large bucket you let out a shaky sigh. You had been caught red handed there was no use pleading but to just sit and take it maybe wait for death. Yet as you heard a bucket slosh around you got curious what were they going to do? This man didn’t have any normal torture devices on him just a bucket. Yet your wondering came to a halt when he shredded your clothes with his knife leaving you bare. His finger prodding at your asshole as you let out a hiss of discomfort. “Never used back here before?” He asked his voice was low and husky as he bent down licking a soft stripe up your puckered hole. “Thats alright… these are small now.” He said making you question what he meant as he forced you bent over and kept lapping at your hole with such aggressive intent. You couldn’t help but while your free legs trying to kick at him which only made him shove his tongue deeper into your hole. You groan your hips held close to his face before he pulled his tongue away and shoved his hand into the bucket. You hear a wet sloshing sound before you feel something small and plastic being pressed into you. Before long you feel something cold and slimey being shoved down your guts. You gasp as he then dips the utensil back into the bucket and poured more of this mysterious substance into your guts. However before you can try and push it out he stands up kicking the now empty bucket to the side and lining his cock up with your ass. You let out a pained cry as he shoved his cock into your slimey hole thrusting passionately setting a punishing pace that made your stomach hurt with all the liquid slushing around. You lower your head trying to ignore the pain before eventually he is done and shoves a plug into your ass. For the next few days you were given a liquid diet and if you tried to refuse to eat it was shoved down your throat with a tube. They were keeping you alive but why? What the hell was inside you they didn’t remove the plug but you felt your stomach getting heavier and heavier…

It had been about two weeks since then your stomach was bulging out as if you were pregnant and that same masked man came by. Your stomach felt horrible whatever was inside you just wanted out but no matter how hard you pushed you couldn’t get the plug out. The only time you came close a guard shoved it deeper in before grabbing a whip and reminding you of your place. No one spoke to you no one even looked at you or touched you until the two weeks when your plug was finally removed. Yet when you tried to push you hear an, “ah ah ah… not yet lovely.” He said replacing the large plug with his fingers as he stretched out your hole more. “You’re my little brood mare.” He spoke his other hand reaching to caress your stomach. “W-what..?” You ask unsure of what he meant by that until you felt something finally being pushed out of you. Your anus pushing out what felt like large beads. They were about the size of ping pong balls if you had to guess “These are eggs sweet mare. In about two months they’ll hatch but they need a nice warm, wet, and dark environment.” He said before pushing the few eggs that he allowed to slip out back into your hole. You groaned feeling the uncomfortable push as you felt a panic. “No I don’t want to give birth out of my ass..!” You say a desperate plea which only made the man chuckle. You stood there struggling your wrists all bruised up as you let out desperate whines. “Where’s your base?” He asked stroking your right ass gently, “I- I don’t know..” you mumble out. If this man didn’t kill you you’d surely be killed by your own organization. Your faith in your team to rescue you was still high you just had to hold on. The masked man gave you a violent spank making you cry out as he just clicked his tongue. “Then I’ll see you in two weeks.”

Another two weeks had passed and your stomach had been stretched so painfully. Every slight movement was a jolt of pain that never seemed to ease. You were drooling slightly tears had long since dried on your cheeks as you heard a door open. Had it been two weeks already? You had lost track of time before feeling the familiar plug being pulled from your ass. “The eggs seem to be growing well.” He said watching as you push a few out holding them. They were held together by a slimy substance making them conjoined like frog spawn. He didn’t let you push anymore out and watched as around five of them hung from your puckered hole. They were a little bigger than a duck egg now and the masked man only seemed happier seeing the way your belly extended. “I…I really don’t know anything…” you sniffle pleading for mercy. “You sure? Any longer and these baby’s might hatch. I’m sure you wouldn’t want whatever comes out of these eggs to crawl out from this tight space on their own would you?” He asked making you shake your head as you let out choked sobs. “I don’t know—!” You’re abruptly cut off as you feel the eggs being pushed back in making you scream out. “Two more weeks it is.” He said with a disappointed sign the sound of his boots walking away echoed in the empty room. “Please! Take them out!” You screamed but all your cries fell on deaf ears as you would be left alone to birth whatever strange creature comes from the eggs inside you.

[mikgreo]

Hiya! Love your posts so so so much ♡

I was wondering if you could do how haikyuu (or jjk) men react to finding out the reader has a kink for being fucked in front of someone else 🫣

Tysm! Anon x

“curiosity killed the cat.”

haikyuu headcanons.

a/n. ty nonnie for requesting!! ive never thought about writing something like this but it made me excited to see what i could come up with, i had fun writing this! take care nonnie <3!! i might do pt.2 :3

chars. oikawa, iwaizumi, kuroo, bokuto, akaashi, atsumu, osamu, suna.

syp. haikyuu characters & exhibitionism! +mini scenarios.

tags. exhibition, voyeurism, p/v, degradation, praise, petnames, pronouns or gender not mentioned but reader has a kitty & boobies, and use of babygirl/girl, manhandling (bokuto), edging, overstimulation, recording, whatever i missed..

oikawa!

rough jealous sex, teases you alot, might share you depending on the person, makes you moan out his name while the other person makes you cum, tried to get you to go to a kink club but you denied (“y/n-chann!! it’ll be fun!”)

he never thought you, or anyone else, were the type to initiate stuff like that, he was always just used to casual sex with his partners. but when he mentioned how “you probably want iwaizumi to see you like this, huh?” and felt you tighten up around him, he knew exactly what to do, he called iwa to come see a particular “show.”

“k-kawa!! s’too much.. sl-slow dowwwn~..ng-nghh!~” you whined out as oikawa thrusted deeply and roughly directly on your g-spot countless of times. “you like iwa-chan watching you get your back blown out, huh? you dirty fuckin’ girl, t’is what you wanted hm?” he slapped your ass, “after all yer stupid ass swayin’ and bendin’ over infront of ‘em you kinda asked for it, you slut.” he glanced over at iwaizumi, who was sitting on oikawa’s desk chair watching you two, face dusted in red and pink hues, sweat beads falling down his forehead. “come, its yer turn iwa-chan~”

iwaizumi!

def has vanilla sex, he likes to show that he can make you feel good by his hands, nice and soft, wouldnt share you but would make you speak out on how good hes making you feel

iwaizumi wasnt really used to anything like this, he was never the type of guy to have multiple girlfriends, let alone be sexually active. so whenever he found out from oikawa that your friend mentioned you were into that stuff, he didn’t know if he should ignore or act on it. but the more he thought about it the more frequently he found himself masturbating in the bathroom at the thought of him pleasuring you infront of another man. so, he decided to act on it.

“mmm, just like that, babygirl. keep rockin’ yer hips on my fingers js like thaaat.” iwaizumi had you on his lap infront of oikawa, who was sitting on iwaizumi’s gaming chair. legs pried open, glistening wet cunt on full display, you shamefully moaned at the circles iwa had been rubbing on your clit and your entrance. “tell ‘kawa how much you want me to fuck you with my fingers, doll.”

kuroo!

rough sex, open to threesomes (depending on the person), makes the third party record you two, edging/overstimulation final boss

lowkey wasnt that fazed about it, he’s been through some kinky people that he ended up ghosting/breaking up with because the kinks were overstepping boundaries, but he thought yours was quite doable. definitely got turned on once kenma told him you had said you were into that stuff. so he promised kenma he’d buy him the newest pc if he cooperated with his plan.

“oh yeahhh, look up at the camera just like that baby.” kuroo said behind you, as he was thrustinf his fingers into your seeping hole. he had you on all fours while you gave kenma a blowjob, as he recorded you all. “mmm…!!~” you mumbled onto kenmas cock, which he shuddered at. “you cummin’? i told you, cant til you make kenny here cum first, sweetheart.” this went on for 3 more hours..

bokuto!

rough-nice sex, fucks you dumb for sure, very prideful in his abilities and makes you you dont hold your voice back, make you make eye contact with third party, either really nice or really mean no in between, but i live for unknowingly and unwillingly rough bokuto so

kinda awkward about it, you were like his third girlfriend, and first ever actual serious once, adrenaline hits him and he ends up having his whole team watch him rail your poor small body. bokuto had learned alot from kuroo and oikawa about sex, so he decided this was a good opportunity to demonstrate his newly found skills. he asked his teammates to come over to his apartment, got them all to drink some beers and well..

“i know youve all been eyeing, y/n over here. so ill show you who she fuckin’ belongs to, but don’t hesitate to stroke yer dicks while you watch me absolutely fuck her dumb!” bokuto manhandled you into doggy, grabbing your arms and pulling them behind you back, thrusting in and out of you as deep as he could, whispering profanities into your ear. “fuckk, you like how der getting off to yer cute ass moans, huh? cmon.. be louder for them, let em know who’s responsible for this. fuck yeah, babygirl, t’day is alll about you.”

akaashi!

soft sex, would only let bokuto or tsukishima be the one watching you two, would worship you and brag about you to the other person while he fucked your brains out, overstimulation def, kinda gets a little toxic if the other person interacts.

akaashi was lowkey awkward about this too, but remained nonchalant, he had a talk with you to see if you would let bokuto be the one to watch you two, promising he wouldnt let him interrupt or touch you without your consent, he told you he had never been into any type of extreme kinks, so he apologized if he ended up deciding this wasnt for him, but swore he would try to make it work just to make you feel good.

“cmon princess, you can do better, why’re you getting shy on me now, hm?” he placed his hand on your head and ruffled your hair. you were down giving him a blowjob, with your legs spread open enough to let bokuto see you playing with your clit, desperate for some more friction. “mmm!” you muttered staring at akaashi with your puppy eyes. “im not, bokuto-san, touching you til you make me cum atleast twice. so get to work princess. you wanted this didnt you?” … “oh c’mon ‘kashi! dont be so mean” bokuto laughed loudly in the back.

atsumu!

possessive, would probably be mad at your for like half the day for suggesting it, but it grew on him, fast rough sex, lots of foreplay, teasing, and petnames.

“huuuhh?! why would you want sum rando watchin’ us fuck?” atsumu put if off for some days but the more he thought about it the more he found himself getting turned on by it. he set some rules, and had told you to go to a kink club since he didnt feel comfortable having anyone you both knew watch you, since you both only had a couple trusted people, and he was NOT gonna have his twin brother watch him fuck his girlfriend, let alone sakusa.

“look bae, all these people ‘round us comin’ just for you, see i told you you have the hottest fucking ass and tits ever.” he had you on top of him on one of the booth seats, you were jumping up and down on him and he took your nipples into his mouth. “fu-ck! ‘tsumu!! so good m gnna cumm~” you whined. “hell yeah baby, give em a show, aint gona stop til you start squirting like sum fuckin’ water sprinkler.” he laughed as he slapped your ass. “show em who’s yer fucking daddy, who’s making you feel good huh?” he breathed into your ear. “you-youyouyouyouyo-!! is you ‘tsumu youre so fuckin good at fucking my pussy daddy!!

osamu!

slow sex, praiiiiseeee, would probably only trust suna with you, would make suna touch you or something while he fucks you, asks if your okay during sex

he didn’t really know what to say when you had told him you found it hot to have someone watch you get fucked or something like a threesome, and he didnt wanna weird you out so he said you could try it out to see if he liked it as well. and he called up his buddy suna to help out!

“fuckk, yer tits taste so good, feels js like marshmallows, cutie.” suna said just below a whisper as he fondled your left boob and sucked on your right one. “mmm princess, your so tight, you feel so good yk that? you’re so perfect and beautiful like this.. making me wanna cum just from yer face.” osamu said as he had you in missionary, thrusting slowly but deep into your aching cunt. suna reached down to rub circles on your clit, “fuck, keep doing that suna, she just got so much tighter.”

suna!

literal virgin killer, casual sex, with some teasing & degradation, would be one to suggest this if you hadnt beaten him to it, down for anything but just doesnt admit it, literal definition of a freak undercover, lowkey would let anyone watch you two but just not touch you (imagine like anyone u want rlly)

“fuckk, keep fuckin yourself on my dick just like that, you have no idea how tight you feel, ma.” he had you facing the person while you fucked yourself dumb on his cock, going up and down. “play with yer boobs while they bounce, pretty. show em how sexy you can be, kay? put on a reaal pretty face, babygirl.”

[saiyanprincessswanie]

Extra Credit

Pairing:  Professor!Steve Rogers x Female Reader 

Word Count: 1715

Summary: You try to beg your professor for a better grade on your paper. He’s come up with extra credit instead.

Warnings: Oral Male, Smut, P in V. 

A/N: For @avengers-assemble-bingo AA-Kinky Bingo with squares Professor AU + “Kneel for Me.”  Card (KB010)

A/N 2: Thank you to my beta readers @late-to-the-party-81 & @lfnr-blog-blog-blog. Thank you to @late-to-the-party-81 for my wonderful header. I absolutely love it.

Please Read, Reblog, & Comment. It lets me know you like my work. 😊💜

I do NOT consent to translating or reposting my work on any social media platform, app, or third-party site or run through AI. If you see my work anywhere besides my personal Tumblr & AO3 accounts, it has been stolen.

You’re heading to college today to speak with Professor Rogers about the grade he’s given you on your latest History paper -  it’s far lower than you thought you deserved. You worked on that paper so hard, holed up in the library for almost a month perfecting it. You’ve even sacrificed seeing your fiancé for all that time. No sex, no sleepovers, nothing. This means that not only are you mad, you’re sexually frustrated, especially as your fiancé is refusing to talk to you currently as some kind of payback. 

Walking to Professor Roger’s office, you double checked your appearance in the reflection from the windows. You’d made sure you were dressed seductively in the hope it would help you get your way with some extra credit. You’re wearing a pink sundress and sandals that show off your legs to perfection. You know that Professor Rogers has liked your dresses all semester long by the way he’s stared at you and cleared his throat. It was clear that he’s been wanting to get his hands on you but you’ve shyly blown him off. Maybe grading your paper is his way to stick it to you?

Finally arriving at his office, you knock twice and hear him call out, ‘Come in.’ Opening the door, you see Professor Rogers sitting behind his desk. He’s a handsome, muscular man, built with wide shoulders and a trim waist. He wears his dark blonde hair a little longer than would be expected for someone in his position and sports a matching beard that had touches of grey in it.  To top it off, his azure blue eyes are framed by the glasses that sit perfectly on his handsome face. Safe to say, Professor Rogers is legit sex on a stick.

When he says your name it gets your attention right away. “Please have a seat.”

You close the door behind you and walk in, taking the seat opposite him. As you cross your legs you notice his eyes following your movement. He licks his lips before a smile settles on his face.

“What can I do for you today?” He asks as he sits straighter in his chair.

“Well, Professor Rogers, I’m here because of my grade I got on my final paper. See, I don’t understand why I got a ‘C’ grade for my paper. I worked very hard on it and spent the last month in the library researching the topic. I even stopped seeing my fiancé so I could focus on doing my best. I think I deserve better than the grade you gave me.”

Professor Rogers just stares at you for a moment. “So you think because you gave up on things in your life and stayed in the library, you deserve a better grade?”

“I mean, when you put it that way, yes, I do. I was in the library after my classes for hours on end. I went some nights with barely any sleep. So I feel…”

He interrupts you. “You feel like you deserve a better grade? Maybe I was too tough on you?”

“Yes, exactly. I’m so glad you understand.” 

“Wrong.” Professor Rogers leans forward on his desk, his sleeves rolled up and looking quite annoyed. “This is college. You’re supposed to be working hard for your grade. Just because you quit seeing your fiancé doesn’t mean you get extra points.”

“But Professor, you don’t understand, I need this grade to be better in order to keep my scholarship. Maybe extra credit or something to help me out.”

“So you want extra credit now to help your grade. Say I do this for you, what do I get out of it?”

“You would have a student who will be very appreciative of your help.” You offer a smile but you can see he is not amused.

Taking his glasses off he pushes back from his desk and walks around it to sit on the edge of it. “While that may be nice on your end, I’m talking about me. What do I get out of this? Hmmm. Let’s say I’m willing to give you extra credit for your assignment. What are you going to do for me?” He raises one eyebrow and pointedly looks you up and down.

Your thighs rub together on their own accord as your pussy grows wet. You can see where he’s going with this. “I would do anything for you.” You coyly professed.

“Anything? Just like that.” He gets up again and walks behind you. You hear the faint click of the lock being put into place before you feel his hands on your shoulders, lightly massages them.

“Yes. Anything.” You whisper out.

He appears back in front of you and smirks. “Kneel for me.”

You hesitate for a moment, but get out of your chair and do what he says.

“Good girl. Now your assignment is to let me fuck that pretty mouth of yours before I take your pussy. If you can behave, I’m sure your grade will get the boost you need.” 

You look up at him with doe eyes and nod your head. “Yes, Professor Rogers.”

“No, darling, call me Steve.”

“Yes, Steve.” You answer, seductively.

Steve undoes his top button on his pants and unzips them, pushing them and his underwear down just enough for his hard cock to spring free. You can’t believe how long and thick he is and let out a little whimper and then lick your lips. 

You gently take hold of him and lick up from his base. At the tip, you swirl your tongue and then take him in your mouth. You start to bob your head up and down, slowly working him down your throat, your right hand stroking what you can't fit in your mouth. Your eyes are locked with his the whole time you take him.

Steve groans above you as his hands fist your hair. You speed up and slow down over and over again, driving Steve wild. Until finally, he takes charge and starts thrusting into your throat. You gag at first from the intrusion, but finally relax your throat, allowing him to take what he wants from you. 

You hum around his cock and Steve lets out a low growl from the feeling. His light moans and groans fill his office. When his rhythm falters you know he’s close, so you reach up and cup his balls. That’s all he needs to cum down your throat with a shout of your name.

You swallow every drop of his cum and kiss the tip of his cock when he pulls it from your abused throat. It twitches at the sensation and Steve smiles down at you. “That was a great start. Plenty of effort from beginning to end. Now let's see how your pussy does.” 

He strokes his cock until it hardens again and you slowly stand up. Steve leans in and kisses you on your lips. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate and allow him to deepen the kiss. 

Suddenly, Steve spins you around toward the desk and pushes his things off it, including a picture frame.  He lifts you up onto its edge and parts your legs. His hands slide up your thighs to your pussy but he stops short when he realizes you have no panties on.

“You little minx. No panties?” He pushes your dress up around your hips. “You really were here to get my attention, huh? I have to say you fully have it.”

Steve thrusts into you hard, causing you to whimper. His pace iss anything but soft as he fucks you fast on the desk and you moan with every thrust as he takes you apart with his cock.

“Take it. Every. Fucking. Inch.” Steve growls in your ear.

You can’t help but breathily whimper his name. “Steve…” Your legs weakly wrap around his hips as you try to meet him thrust for thrust.

Steve slows his pace and gently lays you down on the desk, changing the angle taking you with an agonising slowness that makes you whine in frustration. 

“Don’t like it when I get you back for teasing me, do you? If I were you, I’d hold on for the ride of your life,” he grunts out.

You do your best to hold onto the desk as Steve stops torturing you and speeds up again. With the change in position, he’s now able to hit your sweet spot. Over and over he thrusts against it, making you cry out his name.

“St-Steve! More. Harder.” 

On a particularly hard thrust you finally let go and cum for him. Your walls tighten around his cock, triggering his orgasm and he cums with a shout. He continues to thrust as he spills deep inside you before slowing and then stopping.

You lie there on your back and feel absolutely satisfied. You hum your approval as Steve starts to chuckle. Slowly he pulls out of you and grabs tissues to clean both of you up. After you’re both as clean as possible he throws the tissues in the garbage and helps you sit up. Your breathing is only just returning to normal.

“That was incredible, Steve,” you murmur out.

“Your extra credit has been approved.” He states in reply as he pulls his pants and underwear back up. 

You slide off the desk and retrieve the picture frame from the floor, smiling as you put it back on his desk.  An engagement photo of the pair of you.

“So does this mean you forgive me for not sleeping with you for a month?” you enquire as you fix your dress and hair so you don’t look completely fucked out.

“Oh no, you still have more making-up to do, although I’ll admit that this little roleplaying of yours was hot as hell. We should do it again sometime.” Steve runs his fingers through his hair, picks his glasses up and puts them on.

“Well then, since you’re done for the semester, let me start making it up to you when we get home.”

“That sounds like a plan, future Mrs. Rogers.” Steve kisses the top of your head and throws an arm around your waist. Unlocking the door, you both head home for some more sexy times.

Tagging:

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[lees-chaotic-brain]

Can you do i wanna be your by arctic monkeys with Kenma kozume and fluff? Thank you!!

summary: nekoma's setter seems to have a soft spot for his manager.

wc: 1670

cw: pure fluffy goodness, kissing, gn reader, reader is nekoma's manager, maybe ooc kenma (it's my first time writing him, sorry)

note: i'm so sorry this took so long to write! thank you for your patience, and i hope you enjoy it! i feel like it's not my best work, but i had to power through the writers block, sorry.

listen to this while reading!

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | Haikyuu Masterlist | Blog Navigation

“Kenma!”

When you call his name he looks up, searching for you. As you bound over to him he sets his game off to the side and shifts over to make room next to him on the bench. Flopping down in the space he made for you, you smile at him, and his face heats.

“Hey. What’s up?” He flushes a little more when his voice cracks a bit, silently hoping you didn’t notice (you didn’t).

“So I was talking with Coach Nekomata about the seating chart on the bus and…” He tries to focus on what you’re saying. He really does. But the way your eyes sparkle and the movement of your hair in the breeze are extremely distracting. “...so I was wondering if you’d want to be mine?”

“Sure,” He mutters absentmindedly, used to agreeing with whatever you say before your last question registers and his face feels like it’s on fire. “I-I mean no? No, I meant yes but I guess what I meant was…for what?”

You sigh in teasing exasperation, and he wants to crawl into a hole and die. This is why he can’t do social interactions. His only saving grace was that Kuroo wasn’t here, because if he was he would have never let him live down stuttering like a love-struck fool. Even if that was exactly what he was.

“Okay pay attention this time. Basically the school decided that from now on there will be assigned seating on all buses, and Coach asked me to take care of it for him since I know all about everyone’s weird superstitions.” 

You pause and give him a strange look that he can’t quite decipher. Were you nervous? Embarrassed? Annoyed? He really hopes it isn’t annoyance.

“But after drawing it up I realized I was going to have to share a seat with someone since there’s more people on the team this year. And I was wondering…” You fidget with the papers you're holding, shuffling them around. “I was wondering if you’d want to be my seat partner? If not I can ask Kuroo-”

“No!” The syllable escapes his lip with more force than he intends, and you look at him quizzically. “No, what?”

Kenma clears his throat and tries again. “There’s no need for you to ask Kuroo. You can share with me. It’s not that big of a deal.” He tacks on the last sentence hoping it will make him look less desperate after his earlier outburst.

“Great!” You beam at him and spring to your feet. “I'll go finalize this with Coach. Thanks Ken! You’re the best!”

You take off, leaving him sitting on the bench, hiding his red cheeks in his hood. That entire conversation was a disaster, but at least the outcome was good.

You call the shots, babe I just wanna be yours

“You sure about this? I know how you are about your personal space and the seat next to me is empty.” Kuroo has one corded forearm propped on the back of Kenma’s seat as he leans over to speak to him. “I don’t want you to be all out of sorts when we get  there. I need my setter.”

“Yeah.” Kenma doesn’t even look up, fingers dancing over controls as his avatar leaps around the screen. “It won’t bother me. So go bother someone else.”

And it doesn’t bother Kenma. Every time the bus takes a turn, causing you to lean against him a little he relishes the feel of your leg and shoulder pressed against his instead of jerking away. When you ask if you can lean against him and close your eyes for a bit, he agrees readily. 

Contrary to Kuroo’s concerns, Kenma’s sets aren’t impacted by your interruption of his normal pre-match routine. If anything, he seems to play better than usual, with an extra pep in his step and more precise sets. Nekoma wins, and once again the team boards the bus and you settle into your spot beside him.

The bus is about halfway back to Nerima Ward, cruising along the expressway when suddenly it makes a strange clanking sound and turns off. Instantly the team falls into chaos, panicked and full of complaints as Coach Manabu eases the bus onto the shoulder.

Kuroo joins the coaches outside as they examine the bus. When they climb back onto the bus a few minutes later, they do so bearing bad news. 

“So…the bus’s battery is dead.” Kuroo rubs the back of his neck, sighing. “The tow truck and replacement bus should be here in half an hour, but until then we’re just going to have to hang tight. Sorry guys.”

A chorus of groans rises from the guys, but they settle back into their spots fairly quickly, huddling into the warmth of their hoodies and jackets as the cold winter air slowly seeps into the bus. Next to Kenma, you’re shaking, silently bemoaning your decision to forgo a coat this morning. Ugh. You should have just grabbed one as you were heading out.

“Um…hey.” Kenma’s quiet voice interrupts your self-pity. “If…If you’re really cold we can share mine. I mean, only if you want to. You’re not wearing a jacket so…”

He trails off awkwardly, not looking at you as he speaks. Maybe it’s just your imagination, or the cold air, or even a mixture of both, but the tips of his ears look red. Butterflies stir in your gut, before you crush them, sure that you’re reading too much into it.

“Sure.” You scootch over slowly, unsure of how close would be too close. “I really appreciate it. Thanks.”

Kenma slides his left arm out of his jacket, and lifts the flap with his arm, inviting you to squeeze in and wrap half the jacket around your shoulders. It’s going to be tight, but since he’s offering you weren’t going to turn him down. 

Mustering your courage, you squish yourself into his side, and wrap his jacket around your shoulders. Instantly the cold recedes, and you start to warm up a bit. A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you sink a little further into him, closing your eyes. This feels nice. Hopefully Kenma doesn’t mind you taking a short nap.

When you wake up, it’s to the sound of Kenma and Kuroo arguing quietly over your head.

“I don’t shut up-”

“Omg you totally do I can’t wait to tell the others-”

“Don’t you fucking dare- Oh. You’re up.” Kenma stops talking when he feels you stir and sees your eyes blink open. “Sorry. Did Kuroo’s annoying voice wake you up?”

“No it’s alright.” You sit up and look out the window. “Is the other bus here yet? How long did I sleep?”

“No, not yet. You were only asleep for like twenty minutes.” Kuroo’s smirking face invaded your field of vision from the left. “But you looked pretty cozy all snuggled up like that. I bet Kenma agrees.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?” Kenma hissed at Kuroo from your other side. “Just leave us alone.”

“Hey! Why are you getting mad? I was just saying that the two of you looked nice and cozy all cuddled up like you were-”

An empty plastic water bottle arcs through the air and hits Kuroo in the face. For a moment, he doesn’t react. Then the theatrics begin.

“Kenma.” He gasps, frantically patting his face. “My good looks! How could you endanger them like that what is wrong with you I was only joking-”

“GO AWAY!!”

Let me be the portable heater That you'll get cold without

“So. Kenma. Do you have anything you’d like to share with the group?” The team is changing in the locker room after a grueling practice, and Kenma is not in the mood to go along with Kuroo’s shenanigans. “Yes. I do. Your plays were crap today. Get it together.”

“Oh come on, you know that’s not what I’m talking about.” Kuroo raises his eyebrows suggestively. “No one wants to hear you complain. Now spill. What’s going on between you and our dear manager?”

“Nothing.” With that, Kenma slams his locker shut and hurries out, irritation lining his movements. Kuroo shakes his head as Kenma storms by, before turning back to his locker with a chuckle.

“Poor guy. He’s down bad for her.”

Secrets I have held in my heart Are harder to hide than I thought

“Hey. Can we talk?” 

You’re standing there awkwardly, playing with your fingers. Instantly Kenma is on high alert. Is something going on? Did he do something wrong? Do you just hate him?!

“Of course.” He does his best to sound unconcerned. “Is something going on?"

“Not exactly. I just, well, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t misinterpreting things.” It feels strange seeing you so uncertain, and he doesn’t like it. “What do you think you’re misinterpreting?”

“This. Us.” Your frustration is palpable as you gesture at the empty space between you. “What am I to you? My friends say that I’m not being crazy, but sometimes I just feel delusional like my feelings for you and making me see things that don’t exist and I-”

You’re cut off by his mouth pressing softly against yours. The kiss is fleeting, over as quickly as it began, but it left both of you blushing and flustered.

“You’re, um.” Kenma coughed, his cheeks pink. “You’re not crazy. Or delusional. Or seeing things that aren’t there. And uh, sorry for not asking first I just-”

This time you interrupt him with a kiss, this one lasting longer than the last. It’s sweet and slow, exploratory as you take the time to get to know each other in this new way, basking in the sensation of your lips against his, and his against yours.

“Hey Kenma.” Your smile is so bright and beautiful it nearly blinds him. “You wanna be mine?”

There’s nothing he’s ever wanted more.

Maybe I just wanna be yours I wanna be yours, I wanna be yours

thanks so much for reading! as always, likes and reblogs are so appreciated. lmk if you want to me to add/remove you from any of my masterlists!

general taglist: @ponderingmoonlight @evemooniepeach @hotvinimon @arlerts-angel

haikyuu taglist: n/a

kenma taglist: n/a

[atomicladytimetravel]

Employees Only

Summary: No outbreak AU. Joel Miller owns Miller Contracting and you are his assistant. When Joel gets the bid from a huge client, he celebrates by doing what any sane man would do…banging the assistant.

Warnings: Porn with very little plot. Drug use (marijuana), Boss/Employee relations, Smut/Explicit. Contains sex under the influence of marijuana, nipple play/stimulation, oral (f and m receiving) light gagging, fingering, Joel’s a little cocky about his dick (pun intended). Joel is a simp for you. No physical description of reader, other than female.

18+ only - MDNI

Friday. Fucking finally. Not only is it the end of your work week, but it’s also the end of you spending longer evenings than usual helping your boss put together a bid for one of the biggest clients he could ever hope to acquire. You can’t do any real complaining though - Joel made sure you were well compensated for your extra time and (let’s just face it) he sure is fun to look at. Not to mention the, you know, huge fucking crush you’ve had on the man for…well, for probably about as long as you’ve worked for him. Suffice to say, you’d do juuuuust about anything Joel asked you to do.

You’re making your way to your favorite hole-in-the-wall Chinese restaurant, the air conditioning in your car blasting to combat the sweltering Texas heat. You have to pass the small office building that houses Miller Contracting on your way to get to the Chinese place and, even though it’s damn near ten o’clock, Joel’s old pickup truck still sits in its usual parking space. Curious, you pull out your phone and select his name from your recent call log. He answers on the first ring.

“Now why are you callin’ me this late darlin’?” he drawls. His speech is raspy and a little slow; he sounds so fucking sexy.

“Oh no reason really, just wondering why I see your truck parked at the office,” you respond. He chuckles a little.

“You stalkin’ me or something?”

You smile and roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“In your dreams, Miller,” you retort playfully. “I’m on my way to get some food and I just so happened to pass by.”

“Well, I was gonna wait until Monday and tell you in person, but…Avalon Premier Hotels accepted our bid.”

You can hear the grin in his voice and you hear yourself gasp.

“Joel, oh my god! That’s incredible news!” you squeal excitedly. On the other end of the call, Joel thinks to himself that he would very much like to hear those first four words again in a much different context.

Unbeknownst to you, Joel has been smitten since you stepped foot in his office for the first time. He internally cursed his HR department that day for hiring the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But they had done just as he’d asked and hired the best damn person for the job. Joel has told you on more than one occasion that he has no idea how he made it without you.

“I’m just over here celebrating a little. The sound system Tommy insisted we put in the employee lounge outdoes mine by a long shot and I wanted to hear some music,” he explains further. “You should come join me. You know I couldn’t have done this without you.”

You look down at your outfit - a tank top, no bra and a pair of what are quite possibly the shortest shorts you own - and contemplate the offer. You remember you’re off the clock and think, “the hell with it, he can’t dress code me now.”

“Sure,” you accept. “You want some Chinese food?”

——————

When you open the front door to the office, you’re immediately hit by the pungent aroma of marijuana. Ah, now his slow, raspy speech makes sense. When you enter the employee lounge, you find Joel manspread on the couch, a fat blunt dangling from his lips. He’s changed out of the button up you had drooled over all day and into a Miller Contracting t-shirt that hugged his delicious biceps. Nirvana is playing loudly over the sound system and he doesn’t realize you’re there until you plop the food down on the coffee table. His eyes rake over your body unashamedly and you find yourself blushing under his gaze. He reaches for the remote and turns the music down.

“God damn sugar, I didn’t realize I’d be gettin’ dinner and a show.”

“It’s like 103 degrees right now Joel. Besides, I’m off the clock,” you remind him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Hey, ain’t sayin’ it’s a bad thing,” he winks. You eye him suspiciously, but he just smiles innocently. He pats the couch cushion next to him and when you sit down, he holds the blunt to your lips. “You deserve t’relax a little, too.”

You take the blunt between your lips and inhale the smoke, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling through your nose. You’re not exactly a stranger to pot, but it has been a while since you’ve smoked any. It doesn’t take long at all for the foggy feeling to take over, your body feeling weightless. The munchies kick in soon after, and you and Joel practically inhale the Chinese food. As you eat, another blunt is passed back and forth and you’re soon the highest you can ever remember being.

Joel cleans up the remnants of your dinner and you sink into the couch cushions, your fuzzy brain content to just stare at nothing. When he returns, he sits so close to you that your thighs touch. He leans back and throws his arm around the cushion behind you. You’re close enough to smell his cologne and that plus the fact that he’s so close makes you want him, bad.

“This may have been a bad idea. Weed makes me so horny,” you say. You had wholeheartedly intended for that to be a thought and not something you said aloud to your boss. You’re mortified when you realize that the words actually came out of your mouth. Before you can even attempt to apologize, though, Joel responds.

“Oh yeah? You want some help with that?” He looks down at you expectantly and you stare back at him blankly for a moment before answering.

“I…y-yeah, yes,” you stammer. The next thing you know, you’re being pulled onto his lap; the fabric of your shorts is thin and you can feel just how hard he already is beneath the denim of his jeans. He kisses you with the passion of someone who’s been starved of affection. He holds you tightly close to his body, as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

“Please tell me this is real,” he murmurs into the kiss.

“It’s real,” you giggle, resting your forehead against his.

“You are so pretty. Absolutely fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says softly. You kiss again, open mouthed and tongues swirling together. You grind your hips onto him, trying to relieve the aching between your thighs. He puts his hands on your hips to stop them.

“Ain’t gotta do all that now. I’ll take care of ya soon, understand?” he says sternly. You let out a tiny, pathetic whimper but nod in agreement. He shakes his head and uses his pointer finger to tap your lips.

“Use your words.”

“Yes, I understand,” you tell him.

“Yes what?” he asks, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Yes sir.”

“That’s a good girl. Fuck, I just knew you would be. You want to be my good girl, hm?”

The whole time he’s been talking, his hands have been roaming farther and farther under your tank top. His fingertips brushing against your skin makes a shiver run down your spine.

“Yes sir,” you reply in a voice barely above a whisper.

He’s cupping your breasts now, thumbs swiping repeatedly over your nipples. The urge to grind on him again is overwhelming, but you hold still. You whine softly when he removes his hands and he shushes you.

“Relax sweet thing. I just want to get this shirt off of ya is all.”

He pushes the shirt up your torso and you raise your arms to let him pull it over your head. He groans appreciatively at the sight of your breasts and pushes them together before burying his face between them.

“So fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbles against your skin. He puts his mouth all over your breasts, sucking and nibbling and making you want to rock your hips so badly you can hardly stand it. You gasp softly when he latches on to your nipple, sucking until the bud has hardened. When he switches to the other side, you can’t help but roll your hips, craving some sort of relief.

“Ah, ah,” he admonishes, his hands holding onto your hips firmly. “What did I say?”

“I’m sorry,” you pout. “I just need you to touch me so bad sir.”

“Oh, is that all?” he teases, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. He pinches both nipples between his fingers gently. “How’s this?”

“It feels good, but I need more sir.”

“Hmmm…no, I think I’ll see if I can make you cum like this first.”

No one has ever tried to make you orgasm this way, and you’re not even sure it’s possible. You tell him this, but he just shakes his head.

“Can I try? If it doesn’t work for you, we can move on, I promise.”

“Yes sir, you can try.”

He smiles softly and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

“I’m going to squeeze a little harder, just let me know if you start feelin’ anything besides good.”

It feels amazing. Pleasure surges through you and you tip your head back, your hands gripping onto his shoulders to keep you steady. He alternates between pinching and rolling and you concentrate on the throbbing between your legs. He squeezes just a bit harder and it feels so good that a drawn out moan passes through your lips.

“Yeah sugar? How’s that feel?” he asks.

“Good. R-really good,” you respond breathlessly. “Maybe a little harder.”

“How’s this baby?” he asks as he pinches a little harder. There’s a little pain this time, but it’s a delicious kind of hurt.

“Oh!” you gasp, surprised to feel the stirrings of an orgasm. “Don’t stop please, it feels so good.”

“You’re doing so good baby,” he praises, leaning forward to press a kiss to your throat. He keeps the pressure and rolls your sensitive nipples between his fingers. Your eyes flutter and your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“You’re close aren’tcha? What a good girl; go ahead and let it go baby.”

With his encouragement, an orgasm washes over you and you hear yourself shouting his name. With one hand still tweaking a nipple, he wraps an arm around your waist to keep you steady as you shake above him. When you come down, your eyes open to see Joel looking at you with a mix of awe and adoration.

“That was the most beautiful god damn thing I’ve ever seen,” he says before capturing your lips in a needy kiss. He sets you gently back on the couch and stands above you, squeezing the length of his cock through his jeans.

“God damn, I swear I stay hard for you,” he groans. “You know how many times I’ve shot my load thinkin’ ‘bout you?”

“Probably as many times as I’ve made myself cum thinking about you.”

“You mean we coulda been doin’ this all along?” he asks, still palming himself through his jeans. You lean back into the corner of the couch and press your middle finger to your clit over your shorts while you watch him; something about the action turns you on so much.

“You’re my boss Joel,” you point out.

“I also own this company doll. I can do whatever I want,” he reminds you. He pulls his shirt over his head and you finally get to see the body you’ve been fantasizing about for so long. His shoulders are broad and his arms are thick. His midsection is soft, but you can still see v-lines disappearing into his jeans. He undresses down to his boxer briefs and you watch, mesmerized, when he slowly pulls his belt through its loops. You’re not sure if you’ve ever been more turned on. He kneels in front of you and taps your hip, signaling for you to lift them.

“Up,” he commands. You lift your hips and he hooks his fingers in the waistband of your shorts. He drags them down your legs and is pleasantly surprised to see your lack of panties.

“No bra, no panties? What a naughty girl,” he tuts.

“Told ya I was dressed for comfort.”

He doesn’t respond, just tosses the shorts aside and admires your naked form.

“I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he says, shaking his head. He showers your body with kisses, sucking occasionally on your most sensitive places. You’ll be covered in hickeys later, splotchy red and purple reminders of how Joel worships your body. He places his palms on the insides of your knees and spreads them, giving himself a view of your glistening pussy. He spreads your lips with his first two fingers to admire what he considers a work of art.

“Look how pretty,” he murmurs. Before you can utter a response, he leans in and licks you from opening to clit. He alternates between this and kitten licking your clit and you have to fight yourself to not start riding his face.

“Fuck, you got the sweetest little pussy darlin’,” he groans into your center. He hooks his arms behind your knees and begins to eat you out with fervor. He swirls patterns on your clit with his tongue, dipping it into your entrance every now and then. You’re enjoying it too much to notice that he spells “J O E L” on your clit with his tongue, silently claiming your pussy as his.

“Mmm, fuck Joel, it feels so good,” you whine. You feel two thick fingers slide into your entrance and you buck your hips at the sensation. He flattens his free hand over your belly and pins you to the couch cushions. He curls his fingers into your g-spot as his tongue continues to flick over your clit and your moans mix with the wet squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Joel, oh my god!” you shout, your head falling back onto the arm of the couch. And there they were, those four words he’d wished to hear just over an hour ago. He’s never heard anything so beautiful in his life. You hear him moan and you lift your head to watch him. His eyes are hooded and his free hand is in his boxers stroking his cock. It’s undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Oh god I’m so close,” you moan. He sucks your clit once, twice and on the third time, you come apart for him. He can’t help the satisfied smile on his face as he watches you tremble, his name tumbling from your lips like a chant. When he pulls his fingers out, they’re shiny with your spend. He spreads them apart and a string of fluid connects them.

“Look at the mess you made for me baby,” he marvels. He brings his fingers to your lips and you open for him; you suck his fingers clean, never breaking eye contact. You hear him moan softly when you swirl your tongue around the digits. He stands and you can see how painfully hard he is through his boxer briefs. You can’t help but stare at the outline of his cock, wondering how he walks around with that thing between his legs. He sees you staring and smirks.

“You wanna see my cock baby?” he asks.

“Yes sir,” you nod, blushing a little at being caught staring. You watch in anticipation as he pulls his underwear down, cock springing free and practically smacking him in the stomach. Your eyes widen when you see his size. He’s thick and probably around eight or nine inches. He wraps a hand around it and strokes a few times.

“Think you can put it in your mouth for me? I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock,” he says, smoothing his other hand over your hair.

“Yes sir, wanna make you feel good,” you respond obediently, sitting up from your reclined position.

“Oh, what a good girl,” he praises. You wrap your lips around his tip and suck the precum seeping out.

“Oh fuuuuuck baby girl,” he rasps. You hollow out your cheeks and slowly inch him in your mouth. You put your hands on his hips as you bob your head back and forth. His hand flies to your hair when you pull all the way back to his tip before plunging him down your throat. You gag a little bit and pull back some, tears prickling at your eyes. You repeat the process until there are tears trickling down your cheeks.

“Shit baby, you give such good fuckin’ head,” he says through gritted teeth. “Look at ya, chokin’ on my cock.”

He lets you gag a few more times before he pulls your head back gently. He looks down at you sweetly and wipes the tears from your cheeks before offering his hand to help you up.

“You did so good f’me baby, gaggin’ on this big cock like a pro. I wanna stuff that pretty pussy now, though. Get on your knees f’me.”

You settle onto your knees, resting your palms on the back of the couch. A stinging smack lands on your right ass cheek and you moan.

“There’s that gorgeous ass I love to look at,” he says, squeezing it appreciatively. He lays his palm flat on your lower back, his other hand wrapping around the base of his cock. He pushes the tip into your entrance and your walls stretch around him. He’s a bit bigger than anything you’ve taken before and it stings for just a moment, making you whimper.

“I know it’s big baby girl. I’m gonna go slow,” he coos. He rubs his thumbs in soothing circles on your hips as he inches himself inside.

“You’re doin’ so good, takin’ me so well,” he praises.

“Oh fuck, I’m so full,” you moan when he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Yeah baby? You like bein’ full of my big cock?”

“God yeah, it feels so good.”

He squeezes your hips affectionately as he sets a languid pace. He’s only been inside you for a minute and you know that no other man will be good enough ever again.

“Fuck, this is the best god damn pussy I’ve ever had,” he says, as if reading your mind. “Like it was made just for me.”

You begin to push back and meet his thrusts, your bodies moving in sync. His grip on your ass is so tight that you’re sure half moon shaped indentions will be left behind from his fingernails.

“That’s it baby, bounce back on my dick,” he grits out. He smacks your ass and groans appreciatively as it ripples underneath his palm. “Does it feel good baby, hmm? Tell me how good it feels, lemme hear you.”

“F-feels so good. You’re making my little pussy feel s-so fucking good.”

He grabs your shoulder and pulls you up so that your bodies are flush; he moves your hair aside and puts his lips to your ear as his thrusts become faster and more aggressive.

“I’m gonna destroy your pussy this weekend baby,” he says in a gravelly whisper. “I’ve been waitin’ so long. Might have to carry you into work Monday.”

“Oh god, please,” you mewl in response.

“Yeah baby? You’d like that huh, takin’ this cock all weekend?”

“Yes, oh god yes, your cock feels so good!”

He reaches around to toy with your clit and your head falls back onto his shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you pant. He rubs your clit faster, pressing a frenzied kiss to your lips.

“That’s it, give it to me baby girl. Cum all over my cock.”

You grab onto his forearm to steady yourself as you cum hard around him. He talks you through it, whispering lowly in your ear.

“There ya go baby, let it go. Doing so good f’me darlin’.”

Once you’ve come back to earth, he pulls out gently and sits down on the couch. He takes you by the hand and guides you to straddle him again.

“I wanna see you baby,” he explains. “You’re a fuckin’ goddess.”

You sink onto his cock and he rests his hands on your hips. He guides your hips back and forth slowly and it feels so good that you attempt to speed up.

“No baby, let’s go slow,” he says, looking into your eyes. “Just enjoy this with me, yeah?”

You smile softly, saying, “yes sir” before grabbing his face and kissing him. His arms wrap around your torso and he holds you close, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.

“I want you to be my girl. Tell me you’ll be my girl baby.”

You respond without hesitation, “I’m yours Joel, all yours.”

The two of you share another kiss; Joel can no longer hold back and he plants his feet firmly on the ground so that he can thrust up into you.

“Can’t believe I get to call you mine,” he pants. “My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

“Oh god,” you whimper as he pounds into your g-spot. “Joel, fuck baby, I’m so close.”

“Me too baby girl. Should I pull out?”

“No! I want you inside me. Fuck, I want to feel you cum inside me so bad.”

“God damn, dirty little thing,” he grunts. “Gonna fill this little pussy so much.”

“Oh god, I’m cumming,” you announce, clenching around his cock. A chorus of, “fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck YES,” comes from your mouth. Joel makes a deep, guttural sound and spills inside of you, hugging your trembling body tight.

“Shit,” you giggle breathlessly.

“Yeah? Good?” he asks hopefully, just as breathless as you are.

“Good? Amazing. Incredible.”

He grins and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I could actually go again. How about you let me take you back to my place and I’ll put you in my jetted tub, hm? We’ll take a nice bath, maybe smoke a little more and then I’ll fuck you to sleep. How’s that sound?”

It’s your turn to grin and you give him a long, burning kiss.

“Sounds like an offer I can’t pass up.”

[lavenderprose]

Also, on a hornier note, please tell me more about the Mary Shelly thing? 😉

Assuming you're asking about the Emmrook version of events floating around my head and not the actual story about Mary Shelley losing her virginity on her mother's grave (This is a story I heard a long time ago and might be an urban legend/exaggeration of history. God I hope it's not it's the gothest thing I've ever heard. Either way, cannot be assed to check) Here's how it goes:

After a few nice garden picnics with Emmrich, during which Rook always takes a moment to pay her respects to Emmrich's parents--because she's a Mourn Watcher through and through, and when your in-laws aren't alive to have Family Sundays with, you make due by putting flowers on their grave and politely NOT bonking their son within eyesight of their headstones--the subject of Rook's origin story comes up. Maybe organically, maybe Emmrich's curious about her last name but he's been too polite up til now. Maybe the curiosity has been burning a visible fucking hole in his chest and Rook finally sighs and braces herself and says, "Go ahead and ask," and Emmrich, despite himself, launches into Twenty Questions Mode.

Either way.

"I know almost nothing about myself," is what Rook tells him, and she's made her peace with it long ago, but the sight of his sad eyes makes the old, stale heartache attempt to rise in her again. "No, don't do that. Don't pity me. I don't really care who I started life out as. What matters is who I am now."

"Rook," he says, and it's a statement. He's so intuitive that way. Yes, she's Rook, and that's who she chooses to be every day when she wakes up in the morning. If she tires of it, she'll tell him and they'll go from there. They've probably had this conversation before. Then he says, "I'm curious, dearest--"

"I'm shocked," she teases, and he tuts.

"Curious about the name," Emmrich sighs, and shifts into something she likes to call lecture mode, though it looks a bit ridiculous when he's sitting there on his own boot heels, hands folded in his lap like an eager and precocious boy. "The name Ingellvar is classic Navarran, of noble origin, though the family line has been extinct for over a century. Foundlings aren't uncommon in the Necropolis, and the naming conventions are rather specific. I was wondering--"

"Do you want to see it?" she asks, and leans herself onto his lap. He, as always, simpers to find himself full of her. "I know where it is. Been there a few times over the years. I'll show you the grave where they found me."

"I would quite like that," says Emmrich, so she takes him there.

The upper levels of the Necropolis are sometimes oppulent and sometimes just as dusty and ominous as their lower counterparts. They tend not to shift around as much, but there's no guarantee that anything in the Necropolis will stay in one place forever. Rook keeps track of this particular row of Sarcophagi, for obvious reasons. Several of the most important Nevarrans of the Blessed Age are interred here. Accordingly, it is beautiful and well-lit. The stones under their feet are neatly cobbled and the air is floral.

"They found me there," Rook says, pointing to a particular grave. A low, flat sarcophagus. The epitaph, huge and vaguely glowing even all these years after the initial enchantment:

HERE IS LAID TO REST WILHEM INGELLVAR COUNT OF RUNDEL. GREAT-GRANDSON OF KING BERTRAND PENTAGHAST. HUSBAND AND FATHER. HIS BONES WILL SERVE AS HE DID IN LIFE AS HIS SPIRIT WALKS BY THE MAKER'S SIDE.

It continues in that vein all down the sarcophagus, Nevarran patriotism and Andraste. Rook could recite it all from memory.

"Why this grave, I wonder," Emmrich mumbles.

"No idea," Rook says, which is true, and then, "Haven't really thought about it," which is the biggest, fattest lie she's ever told him.

Emmrich knows it too, because he looks at her and raises his eyebrow.

"Anyway." She slides herself onto the surface of the sarcophagus, which is polished to an almost reflective sheen. "Here's where they found me. Screaming, crying, wah-wah-feed-me." She falls onto her back, legs curled up towards her chest in a mockery of an infant. She wiggles her feet and her eyebrows in his direction. "I was smaller then."

"Evidently," Emmrich says, dryly, and sits down on the end of the sarcophagus. He glances around and, almost to himself, muses, "This chamber is quite busy, comparatively. It's popular for tourists, and close enough to the surface to be part of the Mortalitasi's regular rounds. Whomever put you here must have intended for you to be found."

"Whatever," Rook sighs, and drapes her legs over his lap. "I screamed and screamed until they found me. And the rest is history." She toes off one of her boots. "I have a fun story to tell you."

Emmrich visibly chooses not to address the flippancy with which she thinks of her own origin. Someday, maybe in a few years, she'll wake up in the middle of the night. She'll stumble like one of the dead into another bedroom in their top-level Necropolis townhouse and cling their newborn son to her body. When Emmrich finds her after waking to a cold bed, she'll look at him and with a voice like her own throat is haunted say, "Did she hate me enough to get rid of me? Or love me enough to let me go?" And he'll know she's talking about her own mother. And they'll start looking.

Here, on this day, she isn't yet a mother unless you count fire-slinging skeleton sons. Here, on this day, she plants her socked heel against Emmrich's crotch and curls her toes and says, "Once upon a time, there was a woman, and she was in love with a very beautiful and spooky man, and one time that very beautiful and spooky man fucked her in a sarcophagus and now she can't look at one without--"

"Darling," Emmrich gasps, and wraps his hand around her ankle and very decidedly does not move it. He'd put bangles there, and a chain that disappears into her sock and connects one of the bangles to a thin band that lives underneath the knuckle of her largest toe, and when he did so he looked at her with dark eyes and then did something with his mouth that she still thinks about at least once a day. "This isn't...very respectful of the noble dead."

God, she loves him.

"You've fucked me worse places. Besides, this guy," Rook slaps the surface of the sarcophagus, "was a huge monarchist asshole who's probably been spinning in his grave for the past thirty years because of the little elf girl running around with his last name tacked onto her. Maybe one of these days he'll stop spinning because I'll have a different last name." She's only a little amused that that's what makes Emmrich's cock jump against the sole of her foot.

"Dearest," he says, still consciously sitting still for what her foot is doing, "This really is a very highly trafficked area."

"Good," she says, low and slow.

"Oh," he sighs, and he sounds almost annoyed, like ink has dripped onto his favorite shirt, but he's moving to kneel between her thighs now, pressing her back into the relative concealment of the large flower bushes flanking the sarcophagus. A bit of privacy, such as it is.

"Whatever shall I do with you?" Emmrich asks, even as he shoves clothing aside. He takes off his coat and pillows her head with it, then pulls his shirttails out as some weird attempt at modesty, and she laughs until she feels him inside her.

"You'll figure something out," she tells him.

Emmrich Volkarin, the latest in a long line of esteemed Mortalitasi to be presented with a strange foundling discovered on a long-deceased noble's grave, smiles and makes love to her.

[valacre]

: ̗̀➛ Embrace Me

Megatron x Reader (+ soft Optimus Prime) - transformers prime

Stiffness, stillness, chidings from a tired and concerned doctor whom you understood only meant well; it all had muddled together into months of half-remembered instances. You scarce bother recollecting them, finding them bothersome and heavy as you clutch your arms about yourself, finally finding a moment where you can move freely.

The neck brace had been the worst of it; at first. The healing crack in your skull had quickly taken its place. It’d gone from the right side of your head, creeping just above your ear and onto your forehead. A crack, not an outright huge opening, but your brain had taken quite the beating. The swelling hadn’t been too terrible, or so the doctors said. It’d been awful to you, though.

The cut to your head had healed well, though you now had a scar going from your right eyelid, over your eyebrow and nearly reaching your right ear. Miko had told you your new battle scar was cool. You’d smiled at her attempt at comfort. Ratchet hadn’t been quite as amused by it, but he’d chosen to hold his glossa and instead chose to only send her a look. The sight had made you chuckle.

The damage to your neck was fully healed and your fingers no longer tingled, but phantom aches occasionally came to haunt you, going down your spine and making you frown from how unpleasant it felt. You’d been so bold to even ask Optimus if he could gently trace a digit over it, just to remind your body that nothing was amiss.

Wonderful as Optimus is, he hadn’t refused you, but the touch, although soothing and pleasant, was not what you wished for. It pained you that it didn’t fill the hole in your heart. It pained how it made you feel worse because it couldn’t replace what you truly desired.

Your heart ached for someone else, someone who was terrible for you, someone who’d written you poetry and recited it to you, someone whose touch was stained with wrath and spilt energon yet lent only warmth and love for you. Someone whose optics were seas of bloodied red that threatened to drown you.

Your heart ached for Megatron, and it was shattering you.

“Y/n?”

You wiped at your eyes as Optimus’ deep voice called your name. Turning to face him, you smile pitifully, making a poor attempt to hide your sorrow. Optimus’ expression falters, growing concerned as his servo hovers near you, and all you can do is reach out to clutch at it; clinging as if it was the only thing keeping you alive.

“I’m sorry,” you say, tears running freely as sobs wreck through you. “I’m sorry.”

Optimus says nothing. He needn’t say anything. The feel of his free servo coming around behind you, not lifting, but merely holding says enough. He knows. He knows what you feel and he’s so understanding it only succeeds in breaking you further because you don’t feel as if you deserve it. Why does he understand? Why does he lend you his comfort?

Because he’s good, and kind, and lovely beyond words; you think, crying even more. He’s everything Megatron is not, and yet… And yet.

“I’m drowning, Optimus,” you say, speaking between sobs and soft cries. “I’m drowning and all I can see is him, reaching out for me, begging me to take his hand lest I disappear into oblivion.” Heart quivering, you take a breath but are unable to calm yourself. “But I feel so conflicted because I cannot reach out and grasp him. I—I can’t accept. I just can’t. It’s a life not meant for me.”

Optimus says nothing but continues to hold you, keeping you from fully breaking apart as his warmth floods you and lends you strength. Something tingles along your skin, something soft and gentle; trying to reach out but is unable to connect. He’s trying to comfort you in manners which your human body is unable to comprehend or even sense, but it is so strong the hairs along your arms stand on end, and you sniffle as you lift your head to look up at him, and he’s smiling at you, and it takes your breath away.

“I agree, it is not a life meant for you, y/n,” says he, digit trailing gently over the back of your head. “But your confession brings with it hope, for if it is as you say, then I believe there might be a greater chance for Megatron to change and turn away from this path of destruction.” He took in the sight of you, filing it to memory. “If Megatron’s feelings for you are as deep as I hope, then I do not think you must choose to drown in despair or submit to a bodily change. Instead, you will be the one to pull him away from the storm,” his optics warmed, and his digit tenderly stroked away a stray tear, “and onto a patch of green land.”

And as you are finally free from Ratchet’s constant watch, deemed healthy enough to roam as you wish, you take the opportunity to be bridged somewhere warm; a place where the flowers cover the hills as far as the eyes can see. And here you stay to enjoy the wind and the sun, smelling the flowers which surround you, prepared to call Ratchet when you wish to return, but not yet. Not yet.

Not even as the sound of a huge jet breaks through the air, startling you but moving too fast for you to see it as the sound of metal shifts and grinds. And barely do you turn around at the sound of something heavy landing behind you, sending tremors to the ground even as, again, the sound of metal shifting grace your ears.

Servos reach around you, momentarily blinding you as sunlight hits polished armour, and you are brought close to a warm chassis; nearly crushed against a warm, metallic body. Intakes, deep and trembling; unbelieving, echo in your mind, and your breath hitches as your eyes fill with relieved tears, your heart swelling and aching and hurting so wonderfully at the feeling of him near you; all around you.

“Megatron—”

“You live,” he says, barely letting you finish calling his name. He vents, heavily, a sound filled with mountains of stress and anguish released. His helm comes to rest against your head, a servo at the back of your neck, keeping you close. “You live.”

Previous / Next Music: Vangelis – Monastery of La Rabida

[blue-sky336]

Origin || Part 1

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3?

Morning light crept through the circular window that led to your empty balcony. Still struggling to get used to the drastic time difference, you covered your face with the duvet, sinking in the warmth that your bed offered. It wasn't until your alarm went off that you finally pried yourself from the comfortable mattress. 

The heat of the morning sunlight kept your joints warm as you began to get ready, undressing from your pyjamas only to pull on some comfier but more respectable clothes. Your outfits usually consisted of some shorts and a baggy t-shirt, but on this day, you settled for some jeans and a sweater. You had recognised easily that Paris would most likely never be as warm as your home country, so the outfit was deemed wearable, while a comfy shirt was still placed inside of your bag as a backup. It rested in the front pocket of your school bag alongside your pain medication, which you were probably due to take soon, and the few other hygiene accessories that you wouldn't dare to leave the house without unless it was a true emergency. 

"Hurry up or you will be late!" A stern, yet loving voice called. A smile that was beginning to turn down evident on your face as you finally made your way down the stairs. It took some energy, but you felt good.

Today would be good.

"Sorry, dad." You shrugged slightly, "I'm going to walk to walk to school today. I'll be extra careful, I promise." You smile and take an apple from the bowl resting on the kitchen bench, gently punching the older man's shoulder before walking towards the door, bag on your back. You noticed the way he frowned, going to speak but not saying anything. It wasn't unusual for him to be so quiet; you'd grown accustomed to it after quite some time of living with him. Your father was silenced by his own worry and concern for you. He waved as you stepped out of the front door, yet you never noticed it.

Taking your first steps out of the house, you couldn't help but breathe in the somewhat fresh air that the streets of Paris gifted you with. While it wasn't something you were used to, the scent of a sweet pastry was certainly something you enjoyed. Living close by to a two-story bakery was certainly going to burn a hole in your pocket, but who could deny themself a sweet little treat every once in a while? 

Taking enough time to distract yourself with your thoughts, you finally made it to the street across from your school. It wasn't too often anymore where you found yourself not distracted by your own thoughts. Toady was no different than any other, until you heard a small commotion just in front of you. The traffic was bustling along. The sounds of honking and tires screeching pulling your attention to the situation. An old man was struggling to cross the road, overwhelmed by the amount of people honking at him despite how it could be seen as a reasonable reaction to any bystander. Without thinking your legs began to move, pulling you towards the situation with no hesitation. "Sir!" you called out, glancing across the road to make sure no cars were coming in your direction in the moment. When you had a free chance, you bolted towards the older man, placing your hand on his back and quickly pulling him out of the way of any oncoming traffic. Of course, that wasn't the end of it as you crouched down the slightest bit to reach his slouched height. He was shaking, although appreciative as he clasped your cold hands in his warm ones. 

"Thank you so much, young one," The man spoke, bowing his head over and over again in gratitude. Gently taking your hands away from his and softly placing them on his shoulders, you shook your head. "No, don't thank me. I was doing what any humane person would, sir." Your words of pure genuine and empathetic smile seemed to strike a chord with the man. 

"You are a wonderful being," He hummed, flashing a small smile before simply turning, "I hope one day we will meet again in less dire circumstances." You stood dumbfounded as the man began to walk away. How could he act so calm after seeming so overwhelmed by such a drastic scene. He could have been hit by a car and yet here he was walking away from you, the only thing left in his place being a black box with intricate gold carvings. You leant down and picked up the box, it was small, much like a box holding a piece of jewellery. You figured it might be important to the man, however before you could finally call out to him, he was gone. Once again he had left you staring after him dumbfounded. After examining the box in your hands, you decided to place it within the front pocket of your bag in hopes that you might see the man again just as he said.  

With that interaction playing over in the back of your mind, you quickly walked up the steps of the school. Although you transferred to College Françoise Dupont due to the advertised accessibility and financial support that it provided students with disabilities alongside chronic illnesses, you were beginning to notice just how many stairs were truly in this place. You frowned. 

No one necessarily paid much attention to you, even as you struggled to climb the multiple levels of stairs within the large foyer. After climbing up the front steps, you groaned at the thought of climbing up the second set of large stairs that led to the upper level of the school. While it wasn't as long, it was steep, and after your almost run in with oncoming traffic, you were already feeling rather exhausted. You figured it was just a horrid perk of your own chronic illness.

At the age of thirteen you faced symptoms of constant exhaustion, shakiness and burning pain within your joints. After an incident when moving houses, the pain began to focus more within your knees and lower back, a mishap from carrying a box that was too heavy for your young stature. There was no true name for what occurred to you, doctors were confused or chose not to believe you and many close people began to pity you. At first you enjoyed the attention, but now you were happy to simply be left alone.

Now at the ripe age of seventeen you could hardly pull yourself from bed without dousing yourself in icy-hot and Panadol. You always managed, trying your best to come across as a normal teenager, no matter how sore or exhausted you truly were. You began to think of it as your own little secret, wanting to hide it from your new classmates to lessen the pity you faced.

When you finally reached the top of the stairs, you sighed in relief. Both glad that it was finally over, and happy that you remembered your knee brace you closed your eyes momentarily, not expecting a certain bluenette to run straight into you on her way to class.

You landed on your butt, wincing quietly at the harsh landing. You peeled your eyes opened to see a girl who looked around your age, frantic as she crouched next to you.

"Oh my gosh! I'm so so so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going and—" her words were rushed and the flush on her face made you feel almost sorry for the girl. Gently pushing her outstretched palm away, you shook your head. "Don't sweat it. You're good." You smiled sweetly, taking a moment to collect your bag before getting back up on your feet.

The poor girl looked guilty, taking in your appearance to make sure she hadn't caused too much damage, which it was lucky that she didn't. You cringed slightly as you leaned on your left leg, swapping weight between your legs every so often to balance out the sharp sting in them. She seemed to notice, but didn't mention it.

"You're new here, right? I don't think I've ever seen you before. Do you have your timetable?" She asked, her eyes widening momentarily behind her blue bangs. "I completely forgot to introduce myself— I'm Marinette, what's your name?" Marinette asked, sheepishly pulling her hand back and rubbing her arm when she realized you weren't going to shake her hand.

You laughed and mentioned your name with that gentle smile of yours. Pulling out your phone, you logged into your electronic timetable. "I'm in P7?" You spoke, "Do you think you could show me around a bit?"

You swore her smile grew twice it's size as she linked her arm with yours. "That's my class actually! I'll take you there, I'm sure Alya wouldn't mind swapping seats if you'd like to sit next to me?" Her offer was sweet, but you already had an assigned seat. It was simply due to the amount of distinguishable akuma attacks. It was hard for you to run, so the teachers and your parents deemed it safer for you to sit in the front left of the classroom in case there was ever a need to escape.

"No, it's okay. I already know my seat." You smiled, using your linked arms as a way to steady yourself as you both walked towards your classroom. Unlike your hometown, they shared the same classroom for each of their respective classes, with the teachers moving to them instead of the students. It made things much easier for you and was also one of the high selling points for your enrolment.

You swore you saw Marinette's smile grow dim at your words before lighting back up as if nothing happened. She shrugged it off and led you to the classroom, often smiling at any friends she passed. It was clear to you that she was an outgoing and kid young woman, one that you would be grateful to call your friend if you could get to that point, but for now she would be your acquaintance and school guide.

You spoke the whole time you walked to class, learning that Marinette's parents were the owners of that bakery you could smell on the way to school and that she was an aspiring fashion designer. You also learnt that if her head wasn't stuck to her shoulders, she would have easily lost it by now.

"So, what about you? What's so good about Paris that you moved here?" The girl asked, her blue bell eyes looking at you with a curious spark. You simply shrugged in response and flashed a nonchalant smile. "My parents have better jobs here than in our home country, and this school gives me better opportunities." You explained, although it wasn't entirely true it was still close enough to the truth that you didn't feel bad about your little white lies.

Marinette nodded at your words and opened the door for you. The class was practically full already. It surprise you how many teenagers were actually eager to come to school. It certainly wasn't like this at home.

The teacher, who you'd met with much earlier when you were discussing going to the school with your parents, offered a sweet smile and gestured to your designated seat. You regretted walking in, multiple eyes staring you down. You were fresh meat after all.

Exhaling, you walked to your seat at the front, a blonde boy with emerald eyes sat just next to you. He seemed somewhat disappointed to see you, as if someone else had previously sat here. He shook his head and flashed a friendly smile.

"Hi."

You registered the word rather slowly, a little distracted by those mysterious eyes. He was hiding something. You didn't bother questioning and returned the smile. "Hi."

His cheeks flushed but he said nothing more as the lesson began, turning his attention to your history and English teacher. Your brows furrowed but you couldn't help the silly smile that forced it's way upon your face. Something about that boy made you feel warm, although you suspected that it was just the friendly introduction that caused it.

~~~

The end of the day came by faster than expected. You'd exchanged numbers with Marinette and her best friend Alya, you had also learnt that the boy sitting next to you was Adrien. It wasn't hard for you to decipher that Marinette had a rather hefty crush on the blonde boy, but you paid no mind to it. It wasn't like you to crush on anyone anyway, so there was nothing to truly worry about.

You walked down the front steps of the school with them, waving goodbye and smiling. "Call us later!" Marinette called out as she waved goodbye, almost running into a poll as she walked backwards. Embarrassed, she quickly turned around, head in her palms as Alya poked fun at her.

"Will do." You spoke, knowing neither would hear you as you laughed quietly to yourself. What an odd pair. You found them endearing, no matter how silly they were.

A soft voice called your name, causing your brows to furrow deeply. "Hi—" you turned around to see the blonde boy speaking to you, "Do you need a ride home?" He asked with a kind smile.

Your eyes widened momentarily and a smile graced your face. "Hi. That would be nice. Are you sure? I've heard your quiet the busy guy." You teased, winking at him playfully. He looked shocked before letting out a small laugh.

Adrien was still getting used to the idea of friends, considering his father was a control freak over where and who he hung out with. "Ha, ha. Very funny." He playfully rolled his eyes, "I'm sure I could clear my schedule for the next ten minutes. Come on." He gestured for you to follow him towards the black limousine that had pulled up at the front of the school.

You couldn't deny such an offer, following along behind him. He opened the door for you, flashing a charming grin that made your heart lurch into your throat. It was your turn to roll your eyes as you stepped into the vehicle, thanking the driver and his bodyguard for taking you home. They didn't speak, but you hoped your gratitude came through to them.

The drive was silent other than Adrien exchanging numbers with you, sheepishly claiming it was in case you ever needed a ride home again. You suspected it was something else, but you never pushed for an answer, politely smiling and putting his name in your phone as 'Adrien 💚'.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Adrien." You smiled as you stepped out of the car, reaching for your bag that was on the floor. He nodded in response and waved, "See you tomorrow."

Adrien sunk into his seat after you left, looking down at his phone with a small smile. Something about you just drew him in, he wasn't sure what it was, but it felt important.

~~~

When the boy arrived at his house, his father nowhere to be seen, he decided to go straight to his room. Although he quite literally lived in a lavish mansion, there wasn't actually much for Adrien to do. So, he pulled his bag off of his shoulders and placed it next to the bed, paying no attention to the feline kwami who was ever so desperately trying to search for cheese in his shallow pocket. Finally falling back into his pocket, once again ignoring the cry of anguish that his kwami let out, Adrien sighed. 

"Plagg..." He started, "Nevermind." 

Plagg looked confused before simply flying off in search of more cheese. 

Adrien reached for his phone within his pocket, unlocking it with the simple press of his thumb and smiling as it opened to the contacts page. Your name stood at the very top under favourites. While your name was plain on his screen, the picture was one that he'd captured of you staring out the window, simple and perfect.

Plagg flew over once again. "Woah, I thought you were in love with Ladybug!" He exclaimed, staring into the blonde's phone to see your picture. Adrien locked his phone almost immediately, his eyes widened. "I am!" He stammered momentarily, "They're just a friend." He hummed, placing his phone screen down on the blanket.

Word count: 2749

[hannah-lou]

COMFORT AFTER DARK 🌙

Just a small comfort story about Noa comforting an anxious reader, I hope you enjoy 🙊

You lay alone in your poorly made bed next to your campfire, listening to the sounds of night creatures in the trees. You had done this every night and usually found it to be fine to fall asleep to, but for some reason, tonight, you're far from tired. On edge and on red alert every time you hear a slight noise. Even the sound of an owl calling above your head makes you flinch in panic.

As you pull the blanket closer to your face, you feel your body begin to tremble from nervousness, your eyes darting in all different directions as you lay there, the nocturnal animals seeming to play tricks on you, their calls and rustling sounding louder than usual.

The sound of a birds wings flapping in the trees above you causes you to cover your head with your tattered blanket and peak through one of the holes, an attempt at trying hard to calm your anxiety, but it just makes it worse, deciding that needing to see completely around you with your peripheral vision is a must.

Letting out a sigh of frustration, you curse under your breath, wondering why, out of all the nights you have stayed out in the forest, why is tonight the only night you feel this way?

Movement in the corner of your eye sparks up your senses completely, making you dart upright in your bed. Looking around quickly and squinting your eyes to see better, you see a large black figure slowly walking towards you. Gasping and closing your eyes tightly, you hope that you're just overtired, and it's just your imagination messing with you, but as you reopen your eyes, you see the figure still stepping closer.

You sit in silence as your chest heaves up and down with your rapid breaths, moving your blanket further up your face. You get the urge to call out and ask what on earth they’re doing here but you daren’t, you know that the way you’re feeling will only make it worse so instead you quickly lean over and take out the knife from your bag.

Clenching the knife in front of you with trembling hands as the figure finally gets close enough for you to see it’s face, you realise that it’s a young chimpanzee. He doesn’t look too threatening compared to some of the other animals you’ve seen wander onto your path, in fact, he looks curious, sniffing the air and wrinkling his nose, but you still struggle to trust that he won’t attack you there and then.

Staring at him, you continue to point the knife at him, finally mustering up the courage to speak with narrowed eyes “I- I’m warning you” but your words come out more like a trembling whisper rather than threatening.

The chimpanzee looks at you and raises and eyebrow with what seems like confusion “I will... not hurt” his voice comes out as a soft rasp whilst he looks around your camp “I was climbing... and saw your fire” he pauses to look at you “I am... Noa”.

You nod slowly, quite shocked at how docile he seems, but not taking your eyes away from him as he sits down next to you and faces towards the fire, leaning forward and resting his forearms on his knees.

“you should not... be out here alone” he turns to you, his eyes reflecting the orange glow from the flames.

You continue to grip onto your knife tightly, still pointing it at him, your eyes staying wide as your adrenaline continues to coarse through you. In some ways you’re quite liking that you’re not alone anymore but you’re certainly not willing to take any chances at this point.

The chimpanzee looks at your knife and tilts his head. Rolling his eyes and opening his arms to signal his innocence “I will not hurt... I saw you scared... and wanted to see... if you were okay” he looks at you with a raised brow “I can leave... if makes you... feel better?” the tone of his question comes out as though taunting you.

You hesitantly lower the knife, realising that maybe he really isn’t a threat to you at all, and tone honest, you do like how he makes you feel a little safer “N- No... you can stay”. You stutter, feeling your nerves begin to subside. The thought that someone, albeit an evolved chimpanzee was now sitting with you and no longer left to deal with your anxiety alone, you begin to feel a little more at ease.

Noa relaxes his posture and looks at you, his lips curling into a slight smile “how long... have you been... out here alone?” he moves his hands, signing with his question.

You look at him timidly, still a little on edge “my whole life” letting out a sigh and leaning back against a tree, you want to get to know this Noa a little bit more but you just end up smiling back at him and stuttering “I- I guess It’s nice to not be on my own anymore”

Noa lets out a soft grunt “I will stay... as long as... you need-... dangerous out here... alone” he looks back at the fire and frowns, wrinkling his nose while motioning to the dying flames “more wood-... needs more wood” standing up slowly, he is clearly cautious, not wanting to make you feel threatened again.

You grip onto the blanket and pull it back up near your face as you watch the chimp gather pieces of wood from around your camp and throw some of it onto the small fire.

“flames were... fading” he mumbles as he sits back down next to you, a little closer this time “but this... will last a while” he taps the wood that he has put beside him.

You narrow your eyes and raise a brow with curiosity but pretend you didn’t notice him sitting purposely closer to you, staring at the dancing flames, your body still trembling ever so slightly while your nerves continuing to slowly wear off.

He turns to you “I sometimes... find it hard to sleep” he signed with his words and motioned to the trees “went out for a climb... and saw your camp... got me curious”

Moving your knees to your chest and hugging them, you let out a small yawn and look at the ground “I don’t know why, but I’ve felt progressively nervous tonight” you glance up and see him looking at you.

“You need... comfort?” his hands do subtle movements along with his question.

You look at him, too nervous to say yes.

Noa hesitates for a moment then rests his weight on his knuckles to slowly move closer to your body. still being careful not to startle you. He sees you flinching away at first, causing him to pause his movements, but as you feel the warmth of his body next to you, and his fur brushing against the bare skin on the part of your shoulder you didn’t realise was uncovered until now, you end up involuntarily leaning into him, welcoming the physical touch that your body craved tonight.

You let out a quiet sigh of satisfaction as you feel him wrap his arms around you and gently put one of his hands on the back of your head, bringing you to lean into him. As you nuzzle into his chest, you hear his breathing as a slow steady rhythm, the motion of it relaxing you to finally close your eyes.

His words come out a quiet whisper against your hair as he rests his chin atop your head “it’s okay... you’re not alone now”.

[persephone-writes]

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Six: Portraits Talk

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Five - Chapter Seven ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: Sirius attempts to quell your anger, though the pressure of acting aloof threatens to topple you.

Word Count: 4.3k

Notes: I slipped in some 70s weed slang for peak historical accuracy because I am a serious author with a serious subject matter. Also next chapter is some fun lil James stuff :)

You ran down the dormitory staircase into the Common Room, Marlene’s frantic steps following behind. You made a beeline to Dorcas and Mary, who were sitting at one of the small tables, your words half-dazed and rushing out in quick succession, “Have you guys seen Sirius?”

Mary’s eyes darted from yours to Dorcas, then back to you. 

Dorcas tilted her head, a smile beginning to pull up on one side of her mouth. “Why in such a rush?”

Your expression hardened, boring into Dorcas’s eyes with a determination you had not felt in quite some time. “You haven’t seen him, then?”

Dorcas paused, glancing behind you at Marlene. “He left with the guys about a half an hour ago,” said said, leaning back into her chair. “They said something about the Slytherin dorm–”

You turned on your heels before she could finish her sentence, leaving through the portrait hole without another word. No one followed as you pressed forward, flying along the west face of the castle and down the steps by the Astronomy Tower to the third floor. Ahead, you pushed aside the tapestry hanging on the wall into the shortcut to the dungeons, casting Lumos to light your way. 

As you began to cool off from your all-encompassing rage, you wondered what you actually planned on doing to Sirius once you found him. You forced yourself to stop walking, lowering your wand and darkening the area in front of you as you mulled over your options. A swirl of hexes and jinxes clouded your mind, though none seemed good enough punishment for his indefensible intrusion. Entirely preoccupied with all the spells your professors had warned you to never perform unless during a formal, supervised duel, you nearly didn’t notice the sound of footsteps moving ahead of you. 

Doing the first thing that came to mind, you pointed your wand into the shadows. “Colloshoo!”

The sound of hands smacking against the floor, followed by a high-pitched yelp ensued. The person muttered cursed to himself, the voice sounding eerily familiar. You cast Lumos again, finding Sirius half bent over himself, his hair falling over his face. He looked up, gray eyes meeting yours.

“The Stickfast Hex? Really?” Sirius pointed his wand towards his feet and performed the counter-curse, checking the underside of his shoes when he was finally unstuck. 

“I ought to do it again,” you called, watching him closely as he neared you. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, tucking his hair behind his ears as he looked you up and down. 

“I asked you first.” 

“If you must know,” he began, twirling his wand for a moment, “I was getting rid of the dungbombs Prongs bought me. Felt a little juvenile, but they were burning a hole in my pocket. I’d avoid the dungeons for a few hours, if I were you.”

You lifted your chin, eyeing his smirk in an attempt to tell if he was lying. As usual, you were unable to come to a solid conclusion. 

“And where are the others?” you questioned, peeking behind him to see that the passage was empty, or at the very least the visible portion.  

His posture shifted into something cocky, his mouth twitching with a devilish delight. “Why? Miss someone?” 

You took a step back and pointed your wand at Sirius again. He only laughed, his own wand remaining by his side. The pit of indignation in your stomach grew stronger at the sight of his ease.

“Why did you check to see where I was on the map? And why did you interrogate the bloody portraits?”

He shrugged. “I saw you and McKinnon leave in a hurry, I guess I got curious. Then I saw you stop under Lady Decima, who's a bit of a chatter, by the way. She's had a soft spot for me ever since I hexed Mulciber over by her a few years back. He was being quite the little prick,” he paused, sizing you up once more. “Portraits talk, you know.”

“Portraits talk? Portraits talk?” Sirius hadn’t seemed to expect you to grow so upset, your wand still pointing between his eyes. He took a minute step backward, the grip on his own wand growing tighter. “If I thought I could take you in a duel, Black, you’d be dead.” 

“Hey, hey.” He pushed your wand down a fraction, his smile a bit less mischievous. “I didn’t tell him anything. He’s just as clueless as he was before. Though, now that I’m privy, you are a bit obvious—”

“Locomotor Wibbly!” Sirius’s legs buckled beneath him, falling down in a wiggling mass to the floor. The sight of his gelatinous legs made you smile, especially when he looked up at you from below. 

“Merlin, L/N!” Sirius shouted, quickly performing another counter-curse as you watched him struggle. He stood up with a hand against the wall, still a bit shaky. “It seems like you very much want to duel me.”

You huffed, spinning around and facing away from him. Some of your seething anger had dissipated, leaving your embarrassment to fester in its place. Heat rose to your cheeks and you covered your face with your hands. You weren’t sure how much more of his teasing you could handle, especially when you only had Marlene to complain to. 

Sirius said nothing, presumably staring at your down turned head. After a moment, he said your name softly, though you made no move to acknowledge him. He stepped forward, inching his way until he was right behind you. “I…I mean, I didn’t mean to…”

“I know you’re having a tough time right now, but do you have to pick on me ?” you said, defeated for the time being. You turned to face him, seeing that his mouth, which was once in a clever smirk, now had fallen. He reached a hand up as if to place it on your arm, though it stayed hovering, never touching you. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t know it would upset you this much.”

“How could you not?” your voice was clipped again, sharp against the silence of the passage. You discovered that you did, in fact, have some anger left, and the will to fight. 

Sirius shook his head to himself. “Lady Decima made it sound like–”

“What? Like some school girl crush?”

“Yeah, kinda,” the humor you expected from him was not present. There was only guilt lacing his words, and maybe a good deal of shock. “Are you in love with him?” he asked. 

You breathed fast through your nose, the question sinking heavy in your chest. It was an anchor you had been avoiding for quite some time. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

He hummed, tight-lipped with narrow, curious eyes. “You don’t know?”

“Yeah,” you barked. “I can’t really tell. I’ve never been in love before, you know.”

“Well, neither have I,” he said, matching your tone. “But I think I’d know if I were.”

“You’re impossible,” you mumbled, harshly rubbing at your eyes. When you took your hands away, you saw Sirius was glancing around the passage. He sighed as his attention returned to you. 

“What’re you going to do about it?” 

You wondered why you confronted him at all, realizing that it wasn’t doing you any good. You should have stuck to your original plan, let it pass . He was waiting for you to speak, so you said the only honest thing you could, “I don’t know.”

“You’re very indecisive, you know.”

You rolled your eyes, now more annoyed with him than you were angry. Your hands came up to your face again, though they didn’t stay for long, fidgeting around at your sides before they stilled. Figuring you had already laid all your cards out, you decided that asking Sirius for a favor wouldn’t exactly hurt. 

“Can I ask you something?” He nodded, giving you a look to carry on. “Do you think, I don’t know…James doesn’t feel the same, right?”

Sirius sighed heavily, eyes drifting away. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask me that.”

Your heart dropped despite expecting as much. “So he doesn’t,” you said to yourself, solidifying it in your mind. You pushed the ache in your chest away, taking a single shaking breath. Maybe now, you could finally get over it. Maybe now, it wouldn't be so hard to--

“I never said that.”

Another rush went through you, a vague glimmer of hope. You quickly tampered it down, remembering Sirius’s earlier deceit. “What?”

“Honestly? I have no fucking idea if he fancies you. Ever since he and Lily broke up, he doesn’t say shite about girls. At first it was fantastic, not having to hear his constant bitching. Now I kind of miss it. Less material to work with.”

“What a mate you are.”

“Oi! Did I tell him about your little infatuation?” He raised his brows, his smirk returning. 

“I am not infatuated with him."

“Sure,” he drawled, pausing for a beat. “Really though, I have no bloody clue how he feels. If I knew, I’d tell you.”

“I’m not sure if I believe you,” you mumbled.

He threw his hands up with a huff. “I don’t know what to tell you, sweetheart. I’m trying to be nice here.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

He grinned, his teeth shining in the light from his wand. “Why? Only Jamie gets to call you that?”

With a flick of your wand, his legs were tripped out from underneath him. For a third time, he scowled up at you from the floor. 

“Godric , will you stop doing that?” 

“Yeah, when you stop being a git,” you snapped.

Sirius stood, still grouchy from his fall. Your steely eyes had not softened, even when he rubbed his leg. “You’re lucky I’m feeling kind today. I could retaliate.”

‘Whatever.” You turned to walk back through the passage the way you came, Sirius running up behind you and falling in pace at your side. 

“Are you really gonna stay miffed?” You didn’t answer, staring forward. “Fine. Want me to bribe you with grass?’ You stopped, turning to stare at him with narrowed eyes. He smiled back, sharp as always. “It’s from Maxwell. Got it from muggle London this Christmas.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You stood in the corridor, arms crossed and glancing sideways at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Sirius had gone inside a few minutes prior, though you were already growing antsy. You paced back and forth, listening to the Fat Lady’s untalented singing voice fill the corridor with a cacophony of flat notes. You paused as the portrait swung open, finding it was Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary that emerged, not Sirius. A brief moment passed in which you all looked at one another, blank faced and without a word. 

“Hey,” Marlene said finally. “What’re you doing?”

Your eyes drifted back to the portrait hole for a moment, knowing how odd you were about to sound and hoping they wouldn’t press you for details. “Waiting for Sirius.” You narrowed your eyes when Dorcas hummed, giving you the same intrigued look she had earlier. “What?” you asked. 

As Dorcas was about to speak, the portrait hole opened again. Sirius stepped through, holding up a small purple bag, tied off with thin, golden rope. He was smiling triumphantly until he saw the three others, dropping his pouch to his side. 

“Hello, ladies,” he began, strolling past them. “Where are we off to this evening?”

Marlene laughed, looking between you two, then towards the bag in his hand. “Where are you off to?”

“L/N and I have a study date, if you really must know. She's helping me with potions,” he said, cool as ever. If he wasn’t telling it to Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary, someone might have actually believed him. 

You rolled your eyes, pulling at his arm. “C’mon, Casanova, the Drought of Living Death isn’t going to brew itself.” You led him away, Sirius smiling back at the others who all stood around in perplexity. Once you were out of sight you dropped his arm, turning to him with a huff. “Potions, really? That’s your best subject, you git.”

“I’m sorry ,” he said, continuing forward without you. “Couldn’t tell them what we’re really doing. Then, everyones gonna want in on it. I can’t start giving up the goods now .”

“Whatever. Where are we even going?” you said, following him as he took a right towards the staircase.

“The Mirror Passage,” he said, his steps slow and without much urgency. “Can’t go to the RoR since it doesn’t show up on the map, and who knows where the others are. I figured they’d meet me at the Common Room.”

“Weird.” 

“I can always count on you for a witty remark now and then,” said Sirius before pausing a moment. “And who the fuck is Casanova?”

“I can’t believe you bullied me into sharing,” Sirius said with a shake of his head. You both sat on the ground of the cave-like room a quarter of the way into the Mirror Passage, your wands lying in front of you to illuminate the space. The stone ground was much too cold for your liking, but you decided not to complain. 

“You’re lucky I’ve decided not to hex you again,” you said, Sirius laughing when you began to cough. You recovered, shooting him a pointed glare. “I’m still upset, though.”

He raised his brows, reaching out his hand and wiggling his fingers. “I think I did you a favor.” 

“Yeah, keeping me up at night for a week straight,” you grumbled, passing the joint to him. 

“I keep you up at night?” 

“With anxiety,” you grumbled.

He passed it back, looking around the passage as if there was something interesting to behold. In reality, it was only dark, somewhat dank, and incredibly boring. “Maybe now you’ll actually do something for once.”

“You’re a real arsehole, you know that?” you said, soon coughing again. You gave Sirius a preemptive scowl, though it only made him laugh more. 

“So I’ve been told,” he replied, completely unfazed. 

You couldn’t be sure how long you and Sirius remained alone, though the joint had been entirely spent when you heard multiple sets of footsteps from down the passage. You both shared a glance, Sirius grabbing his wand and pointing it ahead of him. It was enough to light a few meters in front of you, but nothing more. Just as you went to pick up your own wand, a voice rang out from the darkness. 

“Are you decent?” called Peter, his voice echoing a bit along the walls. You could hear soft murmurs erupt after, presumably from James and Remus. 

“Yes, you gits,” Sirius said, watching as Peter ran up the passage and into the light. Behind him, James and Remus walked forward stiff as boards, their eyes darting from Sirius over to you. 

“What did you think we were doing?” you laughed awkwardly, attempting to meet Peter’s eyes, though he would not allow it. A faint blush appeared on James’s cheeks as he shared a glance with Remus.

“Snogging,” answered Remus plainly, causing your ears to heat like two frying pans on the sides of your head. Remus furrowed his brows, his head shooting towards Sirius on the floor. “Did you smoke without us?”

“Yes,” Sirius drawled, moving to stand up. 

Your head was rather hazy, blurring your inhibitions enough to look straight at James, who had a stray curl sticking up on the top of his head. “Hey,” was all you could muster, mouth gone dry.

“Getting high without me?” he asked, a smile beginning to grow as he looked down at you.   

You shrugged. “Didn’t know where you were,” you paused, starting to laugh as the situation became increasingly amusing. “Did you see us both up here on the map?”

James nodded, his gaze ripped from yours once again. He rubbed his lips together, the floor becoming rather interesting to him. 

“Well, couldn’t you tell we weren’t snogging?” you asked, laughter persisting. 

“It’s considered rude to spy, and ill-advised,” said Remus, “lest we be scarred for life.”

“Well, we definitely were not snogging,” you stated quite assuredly, nodding at the end to punctuate your point. You stood, moving to follow Sirius who had begun leaving the passage. 

“You deny it so quickly,” Sirius said in offense, voice a bit higher pitched than normal.  He ran a hand along the wall, his fingers bumping against the uneven stone. 

“Can’t blame her,” mumbled Remus. 

Your attention returned to James who was walking beside you, the corners of his lips tilted up as he watched you come down from your laughter. 

“Something funny?” you asked. 

“Never been around you like this before when I’m sober.” He bumped your shoulder, studying you as if you were a specimen in CoMC. If it were anyone else, you would have minded. “It’s a little odd.” 

You didn’t know what to say, eyeing his wayward curl and longing to smooth it down. You wished it were normal to do that for a friend, wondering if you could blame it on your altered state.

Remus peaked out of the passage, moving behind the mirror and checking the vacant classroom. On the far wall, desks were piled up against and growing dust, a few old candlesticks strewn here and there. 

Remus  glanced back, nodding in affirmation and you all stepped out. Your hands rubbing at your eyes as you adjusted to the light from the candles, charmed to burn until curfew. You hit James softly on the arm when he laughed at you, your head growing more and more fuzzy the longer he smiled. 

As you all moved ahead, your heart dropped, the sight out of the corner of your eye enough to make your stomach churn. Your head snapped away as you saw a head of curly brown hair, wire-rimmed glasses, and two dazzling smiles. You had seen it before when you came in, though now it was too much. Then, you kept your eyes low, but the urge to spin around and stare into the mirror was overpowering. 

Your own smile had completely vanished, replaced with a tight jaw as you resisted the temptation to stand in front of the mirror for hours on end. James placed a hand on your upper back, causing you to jerk away, your eyes snapping to his. He took it away instantly, a crease forming between his brows. 

“Are you all right?” he asked softly. “You look like you’ve seen a troll.”

The other three turned around to look at you as Remus opened the classroom door, beginning to peek out. 

“Yeah,” Sirius began with a smirk, shifting his weight to one leg, “she’s seen you.”

James’s eyes moved over to Sirius briefly before returning to you, the joke doing nothing to quench his concern. 

“Just got a little too high,” you began, hating the feeling of four pairs of eyes on you all at once. 

“Happens to the best of us, sweetheart,” Sirius said, peering over Remus’s shoulders into the corridor. Remus opened the door fully, allowing everyone to step out. 

You all walked in relative silence for a while, navigating the Swiveling Staircase with a masterful ease. It was nearing curfew and a handful of students were making their way back to their Common Rooms. A gaggling group of Hufflepuff’s descended the staircase past you, a Prefect saying hello to James and Remus. Her eyes were sharp, though notably kind, passing over you with a distinctive curiosity. You hated the way she looked at James, as if she was fond of him, as if she was his friend. She probably was. The idea that someone like James probably had dozens of girls wanting to go out with him made your chest tight, so aching it nearly crushed you completely. 

In your rumination over the nature of James’s relationships with the various Prefects in which he led, you had forgotten seven years worth of carefully practiced menuevers, your foot falling through one of the vanishing steps. Your hand caught on the marble railing, though the brunt of the work was done by James, who placed both hands on your waist and hoisted you up again. Your foot found the safety of the following step, allowing you to release a sharp breath of relief. Peter, Remus, and Sirius stopped, turning to stare at you. You barely noticed that James was still holding you until you caught Sirius’s smirk. You quickly turned to James with a thankful smile. He dropped his hands, eyes leaving yours. 

“Are you all right?” Peter asked. You nodded, taking another step forward. Everyone followed suit, Sirius looking back over his shoulder with the same expression as before. 

“Remind me never to get you high again,” he said. “You clearly aren’t cut out for it.”

“You really are an ass,” you grumbled, causing James to snicker a bit beside you. 

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

When you walked into the Common Room, Dorcas, Marlene, and Mary were nowhere to be found, and neither was Lily, though that was to be expected. Slug Club got special permission to be out after curfew, though this did nothing to persuade Sirius to join. When he got the little green invitation, he completely incinerated it without a word, happy to see Slughorn’s signature burn away into ashes. 

“So,” you began, throwing yourself in the large armchair by the fire, “how’s Seraphina?”

Sirius shook his head as you all snickered at his expense. “She’s fine , if you’re really interested. But no matter how much you beg, you’re getting none of the details, you degenerate.”

He sat on the couch next to Peter in Remus, James perching himself on the arm. His foot brushed the floor as it swung back and forth, stilling every once in a while for no discernable reason. 

“She didn’t dump you for smoking?” you asked.

“My dashing good looks overpowered it,” Sirius said with a roguish, confident smile. 

“I saw her outside of the Library the other day,” said Peter. “She called me Dexter.”

You all fell into a fit of laughter, Sirius’s smile fading into a mild grimace. You looked towards James without really realizing, his face charmingly animated, glasses reflecting the flickering flames of the fireplace. 

“I never said she was perfect ,” said Sirius, a smile beginning to poke out. “And you lot can’t say anything. Let me remind you, you’re all single.”

“That is not a qualifying factor to point out some very real concerns,” you said, leaning towards him and laughing at your own choice of phrasing. 

Sirius crossed his arms, a single finger wagging. “Just because you’re unlucky in love–

“I am not unlucky,” you scoffed, sitting back in your armchair. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Sirius said with a shrug.

Something unusual came over you, much like it had in the passageway earlier, though far bolder. Maybe it was the pet name, or maybe it was the way he was looking at you so smugly. More likely, it was the embarrassment that came with him saying such a thing in front of James, knowing it would get you going. 

You reached into your pocket and grabbed your wand, pointing at Sirius. He soon began sneezing uncontrollably, the others erupting in a new fit of wild laughter. 

“You– ach –little– ach –piece– ach –of–!” he couldn’t finish, caught up in a burst of particularly violent sneezes.

Remus flicked his wand and ended the hex, shaking his head. You wished he had let it go on for just a little while longer, the git deserved it. 

“What is with you, L/N?” Sirius whined, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his shirt. “So touchy today.”

“C’mon, that was a good one,” you defended, trying to hold back your snickering. 

“Bloody fantastic,” James agreed. “One for the ages.” 

You finally looked towards him, growing shy as he smiled proudly at you. It was dangerous, the way you coveted his good opinion. You remembered Sirius’s earlier words: I have no fucking idea if he fancies you. There it was again, foolish, folly hope. 

Suddenly and without warning, Remus shot a burst of fire from his mouth, the eruption of flames causing you to jump with an unintended yelp. “ Godric , Remus!”

Remus balled up the Pepper Imps wrapper in his hand, tossing it up in the air and catching it with a grin. “My bad.” 

“You’re easy to scare,” James chuckled. “I’m gonna use that, you know.”

“Well, now I’m going to be ready for it. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t told me,” you said, your head growing fuzzy like it had last Saturday. Your limbs, too, felt impossibly light, as if you could float up to the ceiling if you tried hard enough. A particularly hearty laugh out of Remus broke you from this trance like a stream of ice-cold water from the Great Lake dumped over your head. The impending doom of your situation became apparent. After last Saturday, you were unable to trust yourself to keep your own secrets. Sirius didn’t seem too keen on helping you keep them, either. 

You glanced down at your wristwatch without really reading the time, sighing as if you were disappointed. In a way, you were. 

“I should go,” you said, standing from your chair. James popped up from his spot on the arm of the sofa, his brows furrowed. 

“Are you sure you’re all right, Y/N?” The concern in his voice was unhidden, an unintentional, powerful guilt trip. You nearly told him everything. Nearly . Instead, you nodded, trying to smile the best you could. 

“I’m fine. Promise.” 

With that you rushed off, walking up the steps to the girl’s dormitory at a normal, ordinary pace. However, once you were out of sight, you began to sprint to your room, the sight of your dormitory door like the gates of a sanctuary.

Chapter Seven

[chaoscreaturewrites]

Call of duty, Ghost, fluff, domestic sweetness master post link

Tea time

Summary:He's infatuated with his new neighbor he passes every day on his dog walks, and today, she waved him over for tea time. She regularly starts inviting him over to feed him.

Note:Inspired by my current interest to make panna cotta, but I don't have milk and it's too late to buy some so I'll have to wait till tomorrow but anywho i made a tooth rottingly sweet fluff 

part 1

WC:1.4k

He takes Riley for a walk almost every day, it's part of his routine and Simon is a man of routine. 

Being the observant man he is, the house 3 doors down caught his eye. 6 months ago someone new moved in, after that there was a week of worktrucks and guys going in and out renovating. After that the moving truck and that's when he first got a look at his new neighbor, a cute Lil thing with quite an attitude by the way she was directing the moving men around. Not in an annoying way, it was just obvious she'd learned to grow an authoritative side. 

It wasn't long after she moved in that she, herself ripped up the yard and replanted the whole thing, he was quite impressed and tried not to stare too much as they walked past. 

He'll never forget the day he saw her covered in dirt as she stood in the hole she was digging for a lemon tree. By the look of that scene you'd think the whole was deeper but it was just her height making it look that way. He wished he could have stayed to see how on earth she was going to get out of that hole but sadly he missed that. 

For a few weeks straight she was out there rooting around in the dirt getting her garden planted. Simon has always taken pride in his yard, it's not too complicated but he did it himself and has a nice variety, but her work is putting him to shame. Usually this would spike a very competitive urge in him to revamp his yard but with her he doesn't feel that need, he's content to just look at hers. Plus that would give him a valid excuse if he gets caught staring, just admiring the garden. 

After the garden was done he didn't see her out there as often and wondered what she was doing, what kind of project she was working on inside. He started to imagine different scenarios like her in coveralls painting a mural or crown modeling, cooking something delicious with the herbs from her garden, or maybe she's working on the back yard now.  He's starting to get sad not seeing her and even Riley has noticed the drop in his mood when they pass her empty yard. 

The weather has been perfect, a nice cool rolling breeze, many have taken advantage of this and opened their windows. Today as they walk by her house he takes pause as he hears singing, he turns and sees her coming out tray in hand as she goes to sit on her porch swing. 

A few times as he's walked by she's noticed and given him a friendly smile and wave that he may have over enthusiastically returned the first few times. So today when he sees her wave he thinks it's just that again, just a neighborly greeting in passing, but then he hears her call out “Hey, you with the cute dog”.  He can't believe she's calling out to him, but why and oh what a way to address him, never has he been called that. 

He turns them around and they head over to her as she approaches the curb. She's all smiles as she greets them at the curb, she makes sweat pants, tank top, and loose jacket look like she's walking off a runway. He shouldn't be getting butterflies over this but damn it, he's been pining silently in passing for so long, finally meeting is overwhelming him.

“ I made way too much panna cotta, I got caught up with Ooo different flavors and now I have way too much, are you hungry, you're a big guy that looks like you could eat a lot, yes?”

He's blown away, so much to take in, so adorable. He hung on every word and his heart skipped a beat when she called him a ‘big guy’, and oh yes he can eat a lot and he'll eat anything she feeds him, bring on the whatever panna cotta is. 

“Yes” 

“Perfect”

She turns on her heels and heads back towards her house, turning once giving him a little wave to follow. 

He's walked past her yard so many times but he's never stepped foot on it, he's imagined it but done it, until now and it's a better scenario then he'd ever imagined. He giddily follows after her, making sure both him and Riley stay on the path winding through her garden.

She stops by the swings and motions for him to sit, he follows her orders and waits patiently. He expects her to bring out a tray so he does a double take when she comes over carrying a folding table so big all he sees is her legs and hands gripping the side. He feels the urge to help her, but he knows she's very capable and in his current state he's better at sitting and following her directions, otherwise he fears he would lose his coordination and just get in her way. 

As soon as the table is placed she's off again back inside. She moves so quickly and efficiently, placing the table, laying a table cloth, bringing out a pitcher of something with cups and utensils, then out comes the whatever panna cotta is, he's still not sure even looking at it, it seems like some flavored desert maybe like pudding. There are 4 different colors with corresponding sauce poured over the tops, he's never been so excited to eat something he can't identify. But she's not done. She comes back out holding an oversized locking carabiner, he's not sure what part that plays in the meal and his confusion must have been visibly expressed because she explains how it's for the dog, To hook its leash to the swings post so he can be hands free. 

“ Is he friendly ?”

“ yes” 

With that she takes a knee in front of Riley and holds out her hand to him, letting him get a sniff of her. Riley takes an instant liking to her and licks her hand then closes the distance and rubs his head against her. Simon's about to call Riley back but by the look of it she's thoroughly enjoying the doggy love so he lets them be. She reaches out her hand towards Simon, at first he doesn't understand, then he remembers what she said a minute ago and hands over the leash.

She secures Riley to the post and joins Simon sitting on the bench swing. Her feet usually hang off the edge making sitting at the table annoying and troublesome, but thanks to Simon's impressive height his feet are planted firmly in place making the table an option.  

“ So as you can see I went overboard. So to drink we have hibiscus mint lemonade, and then the panna cottas, we got strawberry, earl grey, chocolate, and bourbon caramel. 

He's in love, 1) she's feeding him, 2) Riley approved, 3) grey grey umm he loves tea, 4) bourbon oh she's checking all the boxes, 5) that independent can do attitude, 6) how everything is cute and eclectic, 7) she's sitting right next to him and smells heavenly.

She is just looking at him, waiting, big eyes sparkling, he clues in that she wants him to try it, so he starts with the strawberry one since he knows she grew those herself. It's delicious and he was right, this must be some kind of pudding, these would be great for tea time with biscuits. 

Riley is happily taking a nap on the soft grass while Simon polishes off his 4th panna cotta and 2nd glass of iced tea. Reclining with her on the bench, located in her picturesque garden after an amazing ‘tea time’ with Riley sleeping at his feet is pure bliss.

A traitorist thought that this is all a dream slips into his mind, this is too perfect to be real, to be happening to him, right? He turns to her and she gives him that smile again, but he's still not sure this isn't a dream.

“ was it good, tasty?”

“ delicious, truly”

“ good, I'll have to call you over next time I have too much food”

“well I hope that happens often” 

He took a risk with that last line, he worries it may have been too forward and will scare her away but he doesn't see any sign of that in her expression.

“ ill have to find a recipe for dog biscuits, don't want.. umm what's his name?”

“Riley”

“ cute, don't want Riley to feel left out, or is he on a raw diet?”

“ like me, he'll eat whatever you feed us”

[little-diable]

I Remember Everything - Tommy Shelby (smut)

Written for my lovely @runnning-outof-time - I hope this is what you had in mind with this story. Inspired by Zach Bryan's song "I Remember Everything". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Tommy only smiles when he gets to drink, (y/n) only dares to marvel at her best friend when he’s distracted. A rising sun and moments shared since childhood days finally bring the two closer together.

Warnings: 18+, piv smut, quite soft smut, friends to lovers, some angst because of family troubles, mentions that the reader didn’t have an easy past but nothing specific

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (about 2.5k words)

An eerie silence wrapped itself around the two. His piercing eyes kept staring at the almost empty glass of his, trying to burn holes into the shards that could easily cut his aching heart. She wanted to speak up, wanted to break through the silence that grew thicker like soldiers moving closer with their unbreakable shield wall, but she couldn’t.

She watched him pour alcohol down his throat, one glass after another, desperately trying to drown his pain, his guilt, his anger in one of the devil’s finest creations. Her mouth was dry, throat tight, unable to speak to the man she longed for, desperately trying to soothe his pain.

It had always been like this, ever since they’ve been young children. He’d keep his every sorrow bottled in, relying on his closest friend to take away the pain he couldn’t get rid of without her help. Tommy Shelby was a good man, a man with a pure heart and too much blood sticking to his fingers, but Tommy Shelby was also a blind man, an overly oblivious man, not seeing through the pain (y/n) had to carry around with herself, unable to rely on the friend who could only worry about his business.

Whenever the ship he was sailing through uneasy waters was close to sinking, wood soaked through like the fabric tied to the high mast, she’d sail next to him, dragging him through every storm he found himself trapped in. Though while he mistook it for simple coincidences, allowing her to turn up whenever he needed him, she grew more uneasy by the minute, wondering how much longer she’d be able to keep up this charade.

“You see, Tommy.” She cleared her throat, fingers interlaced in her lap as if she was about to start praying. “You know by now that I’ll do whatever I can to help you, that’s what you called me here for after all, I guess. But I can’t help if you don’t tell me what happened.”

A humourless laugh left the man who forced yet another cigarette between his lips, lips (y/n) found herself aching for whenever she got the time to marvel at the handsome man. Fuck, she wished she didn’t remember every moment on the days and nights she spent with him, and yet she couldn’t get rid of them, forced into her memories like the languages she had once been forced to learn, speaking them all too effortlessly by now.

“Do you remember how we’d sneak out at night to watch the sunrise?” Her soft voice filled the room once again, finally managing to force a smile onto his lips. To others it was an unfamiliar sight, Tommy Shelby wasn’t one to smile around others, wasn’t one to give away the emotions he found himself guided by, but with her it had always been different, with her it had always been transparent, well, besides the emotions both fostered for one another, unable to act on them. “Come.”

(Y/n) rose to her feet, hand stretched out for Tommy to take. It took him a moment to rise to his feet, cigarettes and alcohol long forgotten as she guided him out into the cold night. No words were spoken as he wrapped his arm around her middle, keeping her close in an almost too protective matter. Her heart pounded in her chest, a tad bit too fast, and yet slow enough to keep the way he made her feel hidden from his sharp gaze and his curious ears.

Both knew the route to that one empty house by heart, they’d always find their way to it, no matter where in the city they were staying at. But today both didn’t walk with fast steps, no, today they took their time, not wanting to let the passing by seconds turn into minutes and hours all too quickly.

“I’ve always wondered how you could so easily trust and help people you meet. It’s like a gift, a talent I can’t help but be jealous of.” Tommy’s soft voice cut through the fog of silence, tightening his grip on (y/n) as her eyes met his. The sounds of their steps echoed through the night, through the almost empty streets they’ve been waking for years. “You’ve been hurt, beaten, and abused. I’ve once sworn that I’ll kill whoever dares to touch you, and yet you managed to forgive them, each and every one of them. How?”

“Who is it, Tommy? What happened?” The two came to a halt in front of the old brick house as he let go of her to push his weight against the wooden door. It took him a few tries to finally open it, allowing them to step into the dark house. Tommy ignored her question, keeping quiet as they walked up the stairs, one by one, climbing higher like lost souls walking the stairs to a new life. But nothing new was awaiting the two up there, nothing but a still somewhat dark sky.

“You know, you’ve changed a lot, you’ll never be the man that you always swore, Tommy, but I know you’re no stranger to forgiveness. I think you’re afraid of it, whatever it is that plagues your mind.” The two entered the roof - with another cigarette placed between his lips and his fingers aching for yet another glass, Tommy walked closer to the edge of the familiar ground. She watched the smoke leave his nostrils, blown into the night like the lives he had taken over the past years, rising numbers that evaporated into the thin air, forgotten names and fates they no longer recalled.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, not when you know that you’re being betrayed, not when you know that those you should trust the most are trying to sell your life to the highest bidder.” A sharp inhale of the cold air was sucked into (y/n)’s lungs, arms wrapped around herself as she stepped closer to him. With her eyes set on the horizon, on the rising sun, she placed her chin on his shoulder, not daring to move. For a few more moments they cherished the quietness, watching the sky turn into the rawest colours known to humankind.

Tommy’s hand found hers, resting on his shoulder like it had done numerous times before. Slowly he turned towards (y/n), hand finding her chin to keep her eyes on him. (Y/n) always felt naked beneath his gaze, trying to cover up as if she was scared that her body would tell him all about the love she fostered for him. But Tommy didn’t give her the chance to move, thumb softly stroking her cold skin.

Both couldn’t help but ache for one another, though keeping quiet - even as (y/n) nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. His hand found the back of her head, softly stroking her hair, eyes focused on the orange sky. Whenever he had found the strength to speak up, he had begged (y/n) to stay around till the sun would rise, needing to hold her close like a life vest meant to save him. She was everything he wished he didn’t ache for but desperately did.

“I love you, Tommy. No matter what, I’ll always be there for you.” She pressed a kiss to his throat, making his eyes flutter close at the unexpected gesture.

“Don’t make promises like that, (y/n). I’m no good friend, I’m selfish for keeping you around, but you’re the only good thing keeping me sane.” (Y/n) pushed him away to get a look at his features, all too used to the pain swimming in Tommy's bright pupils. She cupped his face with both hands, keeping the man close as she shook her head, wondering how she could explain to him that he was all she needed.

“We both know that’s not true, you’re my best friend, I’d die for you in a heartbeat, and I know you’d do the same for me.” Tommy gently pushed her hands away, eyes fluttering close for a second before a scoff left him. His hand rubbed his tired eyes, trying to hold back the words that no longer could be stopped from rolling off his tongue.

“Best friend, fuck, I wish that’d be enough for me, but it no longer is. I’ve been stupid, keeping my mouth shut for your own sake, but everything is burning around me, what loss will it be if I add more fuel to the flames, eh?” She didn’t understand what he was talking about, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted. With dilated pupils (y/n) watched him step closer once again, cupping her cheek with one hand, while the other found her neck.

His warm breath clashed against her tingling lips, wondering what he was about to do. They didn’t break eye contact, wondering who’d start moving first. (Y/n) felt her heart pounding, racing in her chest as her mind slowly began to realise what was about to happen. His lips found hers, kissing (y/n) slowly to give her the chance to pull away should she want to escape from this moment. But she didn’t, she was frozen to the ground, lips moving in sync with Tommy’s.

The sky looked as if it was burning, the flames kept rising higher, setting their bodies ablaze with its strength. Their moans rippled through them, echoing through the early morning like shots being fired in the distance. Tommy tasted of cigarettes, of the alcohol he had forced down his throat an hour ago, while (y/n) tasted of home, of a feeling so unfamiliar Tommy found himself addicted within moments.

Both broke the kiss with aching lungs, needing to catch their breath as he pressed his forehead against hers. Neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to speak up, relishing in one another’s touch. Their bodies moved them down the stairs of the house, into the morning, with interlaced fingers and intertwined souls. He guided her back through the streets, finding their way to her apartment, to the home she had bought years ago and couldn’t dare to think of parting from it ever again.

“Tommy?” (Y/n) whispered his name as they shrugged out of their coats and stepped out of their shoes, finding back together at the first chance to move. “What does this mean?" She gestured between the both of them, staring at Tommy as if he was God himself, about to answer her every question. "I love you, but I can’t just be an easy distraction for you.”

“I love you more than I’ll ever be able to express with words, with gifts, with gestures. You’re my home, (y/n). I once swore to always protect you, eh? I won’t hurt you, I promise.” He kissed her once again, allowing her gleeful chuckles to vibrate on his lips as she guided him into her bedroom, begging Tommy to show her how much he loved her, needing to feel him close.

“You’ll be the death of me, Tommy Shelby, what would my mother say when she’d see us like this?” His skilled fingers popped open the buttons of her dress one by one, letting the dark fabric fall to the ground as he pushed it down her shoulders.

“She’d force me to come to church with her, she’d wash my hands with holy water and would try to hide me away from your father. I'd probably be shipped off to some monastery, forced to become a priest. My eternal punishment for blemishing her daughter's soul.” (Y/n)‘s loud laugh echoed through her bedroom, a sound that was swallowed by her moans seconds later as he kissed her neck, pulling her into his chest. Her fingers started moving, freeing him of his vest, his shirt, and his trousers. Both were in a hurry to get one another naked, not wanting to give the fabrics keeping them apart any more time to distract them.

“Make me yours, forever.” Her sultry voice left the man groaning, pushing her down on her bed as he crawled up her frame, nestling between her thighs. Their kiss grew hungrier, sloppier as his hand moved down her frame, stroking her breasts, teasing her hardening nipples before he finally found her aching core. She was soaked, dripping for the man who found himself smiling down on her. It was unfamiliar to her, seeing him smile without any alcohol near, and yet (y/n) couldn’t help but pray that she’d get to see this smile more often from now on.

“I’ve always wondered if I’d eventually get to see you like this, bare for me, for my eyes only. But this is better than I could have ever imagined.” Tommy’s praises left her gasping, eyes fluttering close as he circled her clit with his fingers, making her hyperaware of his every touch.

“Need you inside of me, Tommy, please. We’ve wasted too much time already.” A hum left him as he let go of her, pumping his cock for a few seconds before he spat down on it, lubing himself up. With one of her arms finding it’s way around his neck and her legs clinging to his waist, Tommy allowed himself to push into her, slowly, carefully.

Her walls pulsed around him, begging him to build a comfortable rhythm. Their bodies met with every thrust, pushed closer and closer together as they shared the love they felt without any words being spoken. Their bodies perfectly moved together, pushing them higher and higher with every thrust, with every moment where he pressed against her swollen spot, with every circling motion around her pulsing bundle of nerves.

Neither of them had ever experienced something this raw, something this full of emotions, something this intimate. No matter how many times they’ve been touched by lovers, strangers, and those they no longer could remember, it had never been this intense, this raw, this exciting.

“You’re so big, stretching me so good, don’t ever stop Tommy, don’t ever let me go, keep me forever.” Her whispers were torn between sobs and moans, a sound so beautiful Tommy wanted to record it, to keep it stored in his memories like the first time he had heard his son laugh. His lips found hers, sealing the promise with a loving kiss.

His pace grew rougher, chasing both their arising highs, set on pushing one another over the edge within the next moments. (Y/n) gave in first, eyes rolling back into her head, forcing her fingernails to scratch at his skin, leaving marks down his muscular back. He kept fucking her, forcing his cock to disappear deeper and deeper inside of her till his orgasm clawed through him, painting her walls white.

“I love you.” Her words left him smiling, letting go of her to reach for a tissue. Tommy took his time with cleaning her up before he pulled her into his chest, cradling her closer and closer.

“I’ll get you a ring in the afternoon.” She froze in his grasp, confused eyes flickering up to his. An almost boyish grin stuck to his lips, tilting his head down to kiss her slightly swollen lips. “You want forever, and I promise to give it to you, even if it’s the last promise I’ll be able to keep.”

I wish I didn't, but I do, remember every moment on the nights with you

[inupibaldspot]

Curse Me If You Must

Character: Geto Suguru x Reader

Note: Angst! With also major spoilers. I was about to write a Yuta fluff but then I just saw a Geto edit and led me to write this.

You nervously stared at Gojo who was standing confidently with a smile on your face while you held a combination of stationaries; Pens,erasers,a book and a compass while Shoko stared with an amused yet curious look.

“Ready?” You asked but then you didn’t wait for a confirmation from Gojo as you threw them at him; a real battle field would be so much less merciful and you guys learned it the hard way after the star plasma, Amanai Riko was killed. That definitely left a hole in everyone’s heart, everyone who had a heart to care at least.

You let out a sigh of relief as the eraser was the only one who was able to reach Gojo and the other which was much sharper was held at a distance. Shoko let out a impressed whistle. “Me next but then I won’t be telling you when I’m gonna throw ‘em at you.”

“Go for it!” Gojo smirks.

You took a step back and another one before you finally completely turn away and walk towards a figure who was sitting in a bench a distance away. A person who , in the past at least ,always had a ego centric sharp look yet would speak with a teasing tone, a person who you would do everything for. “Suguru, you good?”

Geto finally looks up as if he had been called from a trance. He gives you a small smile as he raises his hand and reaches out for your as he ever so gently he takes your hand and gives your hand a kiss. “Just…” His voice was low as if all the energy was drawn from him. “Thinking…”

You hum. “Gojo seems as if he has mastered his technique. Quite impressive.” You wait for a reply but then it never comes as you peer over to Geto. The last mission seemed as if it took a huge chunk of damage to especially Geto; ever since the failed mission he seemed so distant, his head seemed to be jumbled with thoughts he’d never share to any of them…even you.

“Say Suguru… What does a curse taste like?”

Geto’s posture straightens as he looks at you, his tired eyes widened before a smile from you manages to let the tension leave his shoulders. “It’s fucking disgusting…” he lets out a laugh. “As if a rag had been used to clean up vomit; I have to eat it over and over and over again…”

You look away.

Geto wonders if what he said made you disgusted with him but in truth you were guilty . You said you loved Geto but it took an embarrassing long time to notice how whenever Geto were to swallow a curse call he would hesitate and when he did swallow would have his eyes shut.

When you did notice it , you were scared to ask him as if you were scared that you’d be stepping far too deep into his comfort zone. “Did you swallow one in the morning mission you had to go on?”

“I did…”

You look at Shoko was now fed up on trying to throw things at Gojo and now blatantly trying to break his limitless barrier with the compass; the duo completely distracted. You turn swiftly as you place your hands on either side of Geto as it rests on the bench as you let your lips rest on his. As you back away, he lets in a sharp inhale. “Would this help?”

Geto felt his eye burn as his heart seems to surrender its self; he tastes bit of the lip balm you used on his lips. “It does…” It doesn’t, the disgusting taste was so far deep down that the taste and stench seemed to have made itself home. “Thank you, my love.”

“I’m worried,Suguru…” You intertwine your pinky with his which was resting on the bench. “You’re simply just too kind so I’m worried your filled with guilt and regret. The incident wasn’t your fault, remember that.”

It was though. He thinks. Riko was with him yet she was killed in-front of his eyes not even a step away from him.

“You don’t have to give anything back, Suguru.” Your voice seemed weak and unsure, you were treating him like a ticking time bomb. “Use me, Suguru. If you think I can do anything for you, use me; suck me dry for every part of me is yours…it doesn’t matter if I get hurt in the process or if what you want is something simple as a kiss after you eat a curse.”

Geto almost trembles as he looks at you but you were still looking away,no… you were looking up at the sky but the way your eyes were glistening with tears was obvious. “Let me love you if you must…curse me if you must but please… don’t leave me alone…”

Don’t leave me alone you said. Geto thinks but then now here he stand unmoving; a strong stench of the morgue overcomes his senses but he pays no heed. A mission you had been sent to was a mistake, a curse which should have been to taken down a measly second grade curses escalated into a special grade unregistered curse.

His eyes remains focused on you who now rest unmoving on the morgue, your eyes closed mouth slightly open with the rest of your body covered in a white fabric. Behind him he feels the stare of Gojo and Shoko waiting for a reaction but he gives none. Geto Suguru was simply too tired. I should have also told you weren’t allowed to leave me. A binding vow should have been made. Another drop of regret falls into a bucket which was already too full which makes a ripple.

It was then and there Geto makes a choice; a choice which stirs the jujutsu world for years to come.

[theavocadosthree]

Trans guy reader X Bucky..? Trans guy reader who gets Alla his gender affirmation from praise... "Good boy" "pretty boy" etc ... Trans guy reader who's maybe had a bad day of dysphoria and needs a bit of lovin'? (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

Please and thank you ♥️

Hi Anon just wanna let you know I am the same exact way so this is a comfort for you and also me! Thank you for requesting I hope this brings you some sort of comfort! I had fun writing this one especially since this is my first request! Reader is pre-op/pre-t. This is also based during the time of FATWS I hope that’s okay

-Ollie

The Man That You Are

(Fluff/Hurt/Comfort)

Summary: Things just piled on top of each other during your day at work, you come home miserable wanting to hide in a hole far away and Bucky knows just what to say and do to his favorite guy.

TW: Misgendering, dysphoria, anxiety,  Bucky to the rescue!

(Divider by Plum98)

MINORS DNI

You stared at the only two restrooms, sighing heavily as the only men’s bathroom in your office was taken, and you really needed to go. That was the first of things… A few hours later, someone called you "miss" during a phone call, prompting you to wonder if you had slipped a bit. Was your voice too high? Did you sound too feminine? Were there certain words you said that made you sound a certain way? Days like this, when your mind and those around you seemed to eat away at you, made work feel slow.

Finally, the eight hours of hell you had endured at the office were up. You grabbed your keys and your coat and had logged out of your computer for the day, ready to go home. You saw one of your coworkers. 

“See you later, girlfriend!” 

She said with a friendly smile. You forced yourself to smile, but before you could offer a polite correction, she vanished. "She"…"her"… Everyone kept calling you that. You had stated multiple times to all of your coworkers what you went by, and nobody listened. They never listened.

As you drove home, you listened to the music, its melody drifting into your ears… It was nice, but it didn't drown out the day's noise in your head. You were a guy, plain and simple; you didn’t understand how people could be so ignorant. You were just born with different physical characteristics than other people. Yes, that made you different socially, but you knew what you were since you were a kid. You sighed, and you pulled up to your parking space in the apartment complex to find that your boyfriend Bucky wasn’t home yet. You thought maybe he was at a therapy appointment. 

As you trudged into the house, the energy left your body; you practically dropped everything, from your coat and keys to your shoes that were kicked off randomly and forgotten. You could care less where things were right now as exhaustion, both mental and emotional and physical, took over. You weren’t even hungry for dinner yet. 

The apartment was quiet, despite the noise from the city outside. You had been able to tune it out for quite some time, thankfully. As you walked over to the bedroom, you could feel those words come creeping back in your head from the day; you frowned as tears formed as you practically threw yourself into bed, curling up under the covers, hugging your boyfriend’s pillow as he wasn’t home yet. Tears slipped down your face onto his pillow as you closed your eyes, hoping to nap off the sadness and major dysphoria you were feeling.

“Y/n? I’m home, baby.” 

Bucky called out from the front door of the house. You had been home asleep for an hour. Bucky noticed your things were just dropped on the floor. His protective instincts kicked in, thinking something had happened to you, as you were usually right there to greet him and welcome him home. His own anxiety kicked in. What if Hydra came back? What if they took the one good thing in his life away from him? He couldn’t lose you; he couldn’t lose his handsome guy.

  He tensed up, ready to go looking for you till he reached the bedroom to see you curled up underneath the navy-blue comforter, clutching his pillow to your chest with a sad look on your face and a tear-stained pillowcase. 

Bucky let out a sigh of relief to know that you were still around and safe. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, as he had noticed that it looked like you were crying quite recently. He sauntered over towards your side of the bedroom and gently touched your arm with his metal hand. 

“Rough day at work, handsome?”

 He murmured as he started to feel you stir. You opened your eyes tiredly to see your boyfriend. You nodded and sat up, sitting against the headboard as Buck took your hand. 

“Missed you.” 

You murmured. Not really wanting to talk much about how many times you were misgendered during the day and how awful it made your dysphoria.

 Bucky instantly knew something was up. Given his years of experience interrogating others through both Hydra and the Howling Commandos and gathering intelligence, he excelled at it. Regardless, he was a very intuitive man and very observant. He gently lifted your chin with his free hand, his calloused fingers gently pressing under it. 

“What’s going on in that head of yours, sweetheart? Talk to me. You know as well as I do that it’s not good to bottle things up.” 

Bucky spoke gently to you, hoping you would open up to him. You let out a little laugh, albeit a sad one. 

“Hypocrite.” 

You teased him, although you didn't mean it with any malignant intention. You sighed knowing that the brunette was right. 

“Am I enough of a man? Like…do I pass enough?” 

You asked him fully seriously. He looked a little shocked. His brows furrowed and his fist clenched slightly when he realized something had happened. 

“You are the most handsome guy I know, Y/n. You’re more handsome than all of the stars and moon combined. I don't understand why you would say such a thing, sweet boy.” 

He said this as he pulled you into his arms, stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. 

“You know, any guy would kill to be with a man like you. Luckily for me, I was able to use what’s left of my old-fashioned charm to swoon you over.” 

He spoke as he pulled away, stroking your cheek with his real hand. 

“You will be more of a man than most men out in the world now. Most guys nowadays, they don’t know shit about respect or kindness and think it’s all about being tough. In the 40s, everybody was neighborly and kind, much less of the jackasses we have now. But you? You’re the kindest person out there; the things you do for others…it’s admirable, baby. You’re a good man. My good boy…” 

He poured his heart out to you, his words cutting through the thoughts that still lingered in your head from the day.

“Thank you, James.” 

You spoke softly as you planted a kiss on his lips. He returned the kiss, cradling your head in his hand as he let his lips linger against yours for a moment. 

“Anything for you. You know that.” I said as he crawled into bed and turned on the TV so that he could put on your favorite show while he held you close, saying sweet nothings to remind you of the man you were. 

“Bucky?” 

You asked as he spooned you, holding you up against his chest as your legs tangled with his. 

“Yeah, sugar?” He said as the TV illuminated his face in the dark room. 

“Promise me you won’t go harassing anyone from work tomorrow.” You replied, hoping he knew exactly what you meant.

Bucky scoffed.

“I’ll behave; you have my word. But the moment someone says anything to you again, I’ll say something.” He said with a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you.” 

“Forever and always, pretty boy. Forever and always.” 

That night followed up with plenty of love, kisses, and a nice bath. You were Bucky's world, his light, a reason to fight... and he would spend every day making sure you knew that.

[misshoneyimhome]

Your ex didn’t know what he expected to see when he barged into your office, but it definitely wasn’t you on William's lap doing things he never thought you would ever partake in. He didn’t even have words to process the sight he saw in front of him.

You were so incredibly needy, William's cock stretched your leaking hole as he whispered dirty words in your ear. His large hands gripped your waist, and he smiled at the thought, facial hair tickling your neck as you threw your head back against his broad shoulder. “Such a desperate little thing for my cock, huh?” His voice rough as you had barely walked through the front door before he had your black dress up as you were begging to be fucked.

The door slamming open made his blue eyes look up, an instant look of gratification on his face as he saw your ex standing there in shock. You were so cock drunk too, that you couldn't do couldn't but sit there and continue to take it up your fluttering cunt. William let out a small laugh, staring your ex right in the face as he continued to thrust upward. He was sick for doing this, but then again really gave zero fucks. He wanted this to happen, to finally show that miserable bastard how to treat and pleasure his woman. Your ex's face coex'sted with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and humiliation, his fists clenching at his sides. His eyes darted wildly between you and William, unable to fully comprehend the scene unfolding before him. A little smutty idea for your new series.

Oh, you know how much I adore these naughty ideas in my inbox! 🥴🤤 Though I wasn’t entirely sure how I wanted to approach this, I decided on a simple blurb. I think it might be perfect for iInexperienced!reader x Willy; you know, my favourite naughty series 😉

I’m not sure it’d quite fit with any of the other series, but I’m absolutely loving it! 😍 Sorry, but not proof-read...

Warnings: 18+ smut - unprotected sex (p in v) in a semi-public setting (office), sort of Voyeurism?

Word count: 1.4K

➼｡ﾟ

Your ex-boyfriend’s sudden appearance was a complete shock. Although he had been trying to reach out to you for weeks, his calls and messages went unanswered as you chose to ignore him. And his bold move to show up at your office was clearly one he quickly regretted.

You couldn’t help but wonder if William’s visit was a coincidence. Maybe he had seen your ex’s messages or sensed the tension and decided to drop by to offer some unexpected support. Whatever the reason, his presence turned out to be one of the most intense moments you had shared together.

The office was its usual calm self—modern, with sleek glass walls, minimalist décor, and the gentle hum of downtown Toronto in the background. The polished surfaces and tidy furniture were designed to promote focus and productivity. But today, as you walked through the door, that serene atmosphere was abruptly disrupted.

To your surprise, leaning casually against your desk was your boyfriend, William Nylander. Dressed in a hoodie over a simple t-shirt and sweatpants, his blond hair slightly tousled, and that trademark smile on his lips—a smile that always made your heart race—he radiated relaxed confidence. His presence starkly contrasted with the office’s sterile professionalism. Even after a year and a half together, he still had the power to make the world seem to fade away whenever he was near.

“Surprise,” he said, his voice low and rich, with a hint of amusement that made your pulse quicken.

A rush of warmth spread through you. “Willy, what are you doing here?” you asked, your smile widening as you closed the door behind you. His unexpected arrival was a welcome distraction, and he had a knack for appearing right when you needed him most, even if you didn’t realise it.

“I missed you,” he replied casually, pushing himself off the desk and closing the space between you with a few easy strides. The office seemed to dissolve as his hands found your waist, pulling you closer with a playful glint in his blue eyes. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your lips. “Thought I’d surprise you.”

You laughed softly, feeling your heart race with anticipation. “Well, consider me surprised.”

The desk, the reports, and the hum of office noise outside seemed to vanish as the reality of what was about to happen set in. “Maybe I should help you relax a bit,” he teased, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in closer. The air thickened with anticipation, and the casual flirtation between you took on a more charged, electric energy. The room felt suddenly smaller and more intimate, the professional distance you had maintained dissolving rapidly.

William wasn’t just here to chat, and you both knew it. You enjoyed the tension, the way it buzzed just below the surface, waiting for the moment it would break.

You hesitated, glancing at the tinted glass partition that separated your office from the hallway. The thought of being caught in such a public space added a thrilling edge to the moment, making it all the more irresistible. Your office, though small and professional, had never felt so dangerously exciting.

Before you could say anything more, William’s lips were on yours, urgent and possessive. His hands tightened around your waist, lifting you effortlessly and making you gasp against his kiss, the sudden intensity making your head spin. In one smooth motion, he hoisted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist; his strength was undeniable, sending a shiver down your spine as his body pressed against yours.

With a few long strides, he moved you both behind your desk, and you found yourself sitting on his lap as he settled into your chair. The naughtiness of the situation felt almost cinematic, like something out of a provocative film. The thrill of it all made you dizzy with excitement as he guided you to face the door, your hands braced on the desk. The contrast between the office’s professional ambiance and the intimate act taking place was electrifying.

William’s hands moved deftly under your dress, pushing it up to your waist before he guided your knickers aside. You felt exposed and vulnerable, yet aroused. The office, with its neat rows of filing cabinets and cold, professional décor, now served as a stark backdrop to the raw intensity between you.

William’s hands gripped your hips as he guided you onto his lap, his cock pressing against your core with a delicious pressure that made you moan softly. The way he filled you, stretching you, was almost too much, and yet not enough at the same time. His hips bucked up against you, his thrusts slow but deep, sending waves of pleasure through your body as you began to move with him.

“Such a desperate little thing for my cock, aren’t you?” William growled low in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. His words sent a shiver down your spine, making your already frayed nerves tingle with excitement. His voice, rough and teasing, only added to the growing fire inside you.

Feeling your arousal quickly building, you couldn’t help but gasp, throwing your head back against his broad shoulder as the heat between your legs intensified with each relentless thrust. His rough voice and the scratch of his stubble against your skin were intoxicating, making everything else blur into insignificance. He had barely let you walk through the door before his hands were all over you, and now you were too far gone to care about anything except the man beneath you.

But then, out of nowhere, the door to your office suddenly slammed open with a jarring crash.

William froze for just a second, his breath catching in his throat as he looked up in shock. Standing in the doorway was your ex-boyfriend, his face a mask of shock and disbelief as he took in the scene before him. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the tension thick and suffocating.

But William didn’t stop. In fact, he seemed to relish the interruption. His eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction as he met your ex’s gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips as he thrust deeper into you, making you gasp in pleasure despite the unexpected audience.

“Enjoying the show?” William quipped, his voice laced with amusement as he continued to move inside you, his hands gripping your waist even tighter. The power dynamics in the room had shifted entirely—William was in control, and your ex was nothing more than a bystander, powerless to stop what was happening.

“Guess this is how a woman’s supposed to be treated, huh?” William’s voice dripped with taunt, his tone both mocking and triumphant.

You were too far gone, intoxicated by the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you, to fully process your ex’s presence. Your moans filled the room, mingling with the sounds of William’s thrusts. His movements were purposeful now, hard and deep, as if he was savouring every moment and showing your ex precisely what he was missing.

The air in the room grew thick with tension and a raw sense of finality. There was no turning back from this. Your ex’s face contorted further, his body frozen in place as he watched William’s dominance. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He simply stood there, his gaze locked on the scene before him, unable to look away.

William’s gaze stayed fixed on your ex, his tone dripping with derision as he continued his relentless pace. “Go on, take a good look. This is what you lost. What you’ll never have again.”

The room was charged with a potent mix of emotions—dominance, humiliation, and raw desire. The climax of the moment felt inevitable, a culmination of all the pent-up tension and unresolved feelings.

And as the intensity reached its peak, you couldn’t hold back any longer. With a final, desperate cry, you came hard around William’s cock, your body trembling with the intensity of your orgasm. And William followed soon after, his hips jerking against yours as he found his own release, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours.

The sounds of your combined breaths and the aftermath of your climaxes filled the room, creating a sharp contrast to the stunned silence that followed. But then your ex, his face a picture of defeat and despair, finally turned and left, the door closing behind him with a heavy, echoing thud.

As the office slowly returned to its usual quiet, professional state, the echoes of what had just happened still lingered in the air. You couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle as the realisation sunk in.

“Did he… did my ex really just walk in on us?”

William nodded, a mischievous grin still on his face. “Yup.”

“Shit.”

You weren’t entirely sure if you felt ashamed or not—probably mostly not. All you felt was a lingering rush of pleasure as you gradually calmed down from the high.