#I mean her hair flick also got huge so I suppose it's just that thing where features are continuously exaggerated over time

[smalltimidbean]

When did Brick's eyebrows get so thick and squared??? When did I do that???

[kwillow]

Hi if you got my last message I'm sorry for the repeat feel free to delete if you didn't because Tumblr decided to go "no <3" at the last second oh boy howdy it's me again devoted anon unmasked, if this ask feels shorter tireder I'm sorry it is tumblr is an evil evil thing, on to my girl she is called Zephyr a lengthened alternate to her canon name that she probably picked out herself probably from a book as I imagine Ambroy boasts a huge library. Onto the daughter. (also apparently Zephyr means gentle breeze so obviously mental image of her gently blowing on Ambroys ear to make it flick to wind him up)

Obviously from sketch to digital I missed things out because I didn't have the effort lmao, her scars from blood letting are probably hidden under her scales so if she's shedding there or pulls them back it will reveal the scars like the dragon heart dragons having those scars under their chest scales from taking out their hearts. She originally was gonna have major implied tail related trauma implying it was cut off and regrew yes I was gon imply it was cut off to be served but I thought that was too far but since her tail is nubby it likely did get injured at some point. Also I like to imagine her hair looks thick and wild and untamed? But also kind of flawless too. It's got a weirdly scaley vibe to it and the hair is probably a bit coarse, not like unpleasantly so just clearly rougher wilder almost. She usually manages her own hair via cleaning drying brushing it ect but secretly she does adore it if a staff member offers to dry her hair or brush it or just to play with it, she's touch starved and pretty woman want to touch her?? Play with her hair?? For real?? Makes her soft. She's very compliant to so if staff are needed to at least neaten up her hair they know she'll sit on the floor where they can easily reach to do her hair and sit good and still for them. The two tone color is cause I think it looks hella cool tbh it added dynamic to her and because she probably bled in her hair plenty as her horns grew in and idk mythos bled into her hair permanently dying it (though its more likely just weird power stuff like how Ambroy hair is golden hers went from brown to pink silver). Also her claws and horns are probably only metal coated and not full metal. Also idk if beans I just like the implied feral prowling stalking predator vibes of it she's an ambush predator ready to take down unsuspecting prey and also viciously hunt House intruders lmao there is mental image of her chasing some guy who broke in maybe scaring a maid and she came running hearing the maid scream absolutely hunting this guy like a wild beast thinking he was attacking the maid and for breaking in. Zephyr can have feral as a treat, as I said she's always a bit off and otherworldly a bit too feral despite the fact they should be civil, could revert to animal revert to quadraped lmao. Zephyr is always like 2 steps away from just turning into a beast and disappearing into the woods or in this case I guess kidnapping Ambroy her treasure now lmao.

Outfit time! And for me to be a liar lmao

She's a comfortable girl, definitely would prefer to dress like she just rolled out of bed. I think she'd have a very casual relationship with clothes, at first I imagine she wore very loose things growing up easy to slide up to access flesh for cutting or very tight constricting covering everything clothes when needing to hide her abuse and likely tight fashionable clothes when later living with Ambroy and probably to some extent dressed up by him for his liking and viewing to the point that when she's older she kinda goes eh fuck it ill wear what I'm comfy in not whats suitable for other people. This also somehow developed into casualness in nudity I suppose exposed stomach falling down loose trousers ect, I also hc she has a dressing gown she'll put on and wear with nothing else only vaguely tied to just about hide everything. I think at this point she just doesn't care XD though she won't obviously do this in public but cover of Ambroys home she can be lax but will respectfully cover up to not fluster the staff they don't need to see a tit ya know she respects them. She's sure Ambroy wouldn't mind seeing a tit, but like she'll jokingly pull her dressing gown over herself pretending to conceal and hide herself from him like no you cannot witness because he probably huffs at her for being so selfish to not share a tit. But just any lazy outfit you can think of she'd wear or own, she likely does have genuine outside activity clothes which are probably actually decent walking clothes I can see her enjoying long walks out climbing treks ect cause she's active or casual outside clothes for tea and biscuits and cakes when the weather is nice but nothing fancy like Ambroy not anymore too much effort. Her fashion is likely probably more similar to the I suppose common folk than the rich cause like common folk know how to enjoy comfort rich people just dress wildly and honestly dressing in common clothes is weirdly nostalgic not exactly comforting but feels right.

Now for my lies and deceit lmao, so I know I said no dress but also. What if one dress one time XD I thought itd be fun to have her in at least one dress outfit. She's probably wearing a corset brasier combo to thin her waist and adjust her chest hence her looking different. Ambroy probably asked so that people don't realise she's showing her age too, though Zephyr definitely asked the staff to be gentle with the corset she's not used to it so they couldn't tighten it as much as Ambroy would hope. This event is likely the reason she doesn't wear dresses anymore. She probably just, had a bit of a identity crisis as the knowledge of, these people are so much different to me, set in. She's not, from wealth or royalty or really even anything important sure shes apparently half something special but she was born into nothing and treated worse for it until she met Ambroy, she realises that she stands over everyone there how delicate and beautiful the woman are and how confident and assured the men are she's, not either she's much larger and yes she knows it's muscle she's strong could probably lift more than some of the gentleman here but compared to these pretty woman she feels so, wrong and out of place and she's not confident as much as she pretends she doesn't dare enter the dance floor her feet are too big her claws too dangerous her tail too in the way. Essentially has a horrible comparison to everyone else moment anxiety and stress rising because oh god she's so different just look she's probably got problems especially because she relates more with the lower class being born into that she can take care of herself while the higher class need to be served she knows she sticks out compared to everyone so she'd leave to smoke outside. Quite literally when overly anxious she produces smoke cause she can breathe fire as a treat and she probably just has a bit of an anxiety attack outside honestly everything was probably just over stimulating for her especially if this is the first event she's been to since fully developing into divine maturity she's only just finding herself her new 'real' self and her senses are likely overwhelmed with the music chatting dancing singing perfumes sparkling jewellery and decorations and heat of the room and just she's not been raised in this like Ambroy the odd event but not really made for it and would likely not go to anymore. She'd just tell Ambroy it's because she makes the room look cluttered and she shouldn't distract from his divine radiance and beauty like that.

Also Zephyr is probably about 7ft tall or something, as much as I want to make her stupidly tall I'm limiting myself but like you're free to play around with her height and design tweaking it for if its easier in art or for a certain aesthetic ect going full size dif or casual loom. I think canon human Zephyr is about 6ft close to Ambroy height naturally as she's my big strong muscular monster girl so obviously anthro dragon form needs to be bigger than him XD I like me height dif

Anywhos hope you and Ambroy will like and enjoy her design lmao and thank you for enjoying my silly character rambles I just adore your silly lil unicorn so so much he pleases the brain. I hope you have fun with your big project I'm very excited to see it! And I hope work isn't too hard on you either! Baiii

So glad to see Zephyr in the flesh! (So to speak)

Her design is very cute, I love the silver scales and red eyes. All the better that she's 7 ft too - we love a big girl in this house!

I could definitely see Ambroys using her as a fashion doll for a while until she makes me clothing preferences known. He's unfortunately prone to viewing other people as accessories to complement his own outfits.

I like the details you included about her being uncomfortable in the high society company Ambroys tends to keep. Given her background, it makes a lot of sense (and considering the snakes Ambroys tends to associate with - and is - she's probably right to feel that way). I think he'd be torn on her bowing out of his dances and social events - on the one hand, he'd probably buy the excuse that she'd distract from his glory, and he does like being the most eye-catching thing in the room, but he does like to have an entourage so that people think he has friends. Ultimately, though, he wouldn't force her to go... though she may be forced to hear him complaining/gossiping about the proceedings afterward.

Thanks so much for sharing and my apologies again for not being more quick on the message-answering draw - I do really appreciate having your OC shared with me, despite my bumbling tardiness!

[empressofthesunwriter]

Friendly Faces Everywhere

Codename Dovahkiin Part 2

Now that the Stick of Truth RPG is over it's time for N.K. to face the normal everyday life of South Park.

She should have known nothing in South Park is ever normal!

Day to day the craziness of this supposed quiet little mountain town she has to combat now.

Thank god, she has Tammy, Wendy, her boys, and her Social Media/Magical Girl Powers on her side.

This gonna be a wild ride!

Main Pairing: New Kid/Kenny McCormick/Kyle Broflovski

Chapter 2: Don’t take away my Pizza and Pasta!

After our win against Photoshop, we had a nice, normal week. Wendy introduced us to her friends and we hung out with the fourth-grade girls.

I see a lot of potential in them.

They aren’t as infused with the patriarchy as I thought or more let’s say they reacted to my feminist speeches with interest and asked questions.

Bebe, Wendy’s best friend, and cute Heidi are especially promising.

I caught both of them looking at me in a…questioning way. Even Tammy got some of these looks.

These are looks I know from girls who told me before they were straight and then made out with me behind the school bleachers.

So my little hicktown isn’t totally straight.

But I will give these girls time.

First, get rid of the patriarchy brainwashing, then we can jump into questioning their sexuality or even gender identity

At this time Leo and I made also peace again with each other and he said sorry to me and Wendy that he was so stupid about this whole Kim Kardashian thing.

I’m glad I got my little bro back.

Nonetheless, it even didn’t take a day and he left with Stan, Cartman, Kyle, and Kenny the school to start their own Start-Up-Company, since they didn’t want to go to school anymore.

Leo even set fire to the school gymnasium, so sure was he that he wouldn’t return back here.

The boys, besides of course fatass, asked me to join them, but I like school.

I know shocking.

I mean I think Math is useless, but I like to learn new things and I’m a huge history nerd.

I have mostly fun at school.

Also, I didn’t believe that this Start-Up shit would actually work.

So while Stan’a Gang, that’s their official name I learned, chased that dream, I and the girls comforted Wendy because Stan broke up with her.

All the boys are on a fucking high horse, I swerve!

In the end, I was right since next Monday they are back in school.

How do I know that?

Because Kenny comes up walking toward me.

“Hi N.K.!”, he greets me.

“Hello, Kenneth.”, I answer over politely and close my locker. Can Tammy hurry and come from her locker? “I see you are back.”

“Erm, yeah, so how are you?”

I turn to him, crossing my arms and cocking a hip out.

“Oh, suddenly you want to know, how I am. If you haven’t ignored my messages all the time since your little Start-Up-Adventure.”

The boy in the parker has at least the sense to wince at this, rubbing his neck.

“I’m sorry.”

I just roll my eyes, as I see who is coming also.

“And there is the other one who ignored my calls, hello Kyle.”

Whatever the redhead wanted to say, he doesn’t and looks ashamed.

“Erm, I-“

“I don’t care Kyle. You both thought so high and mighty about yourself that you even couldn’t spare answering a friend’s message.”

“You are more than a friend to me.”, they both say at the same time.

Angry they look at each other.

“What the fuck, dude?!”

“No, what the fuck you dude!”

“I have known her before!”

“And yet she also has fallen for me.”

“SHE right now wants to kick both of your asses.”, I growl at them. “What I am? A toy you can decide when to play with it? A toy you can put on a shelf and forget about it totally because you have a new one? And then when the new one is broken, you play with the old again? Fuck you two! I’m no one’s toy!”

With that, I flick my hair and sash away from them.

I meet an equally angry Wendy on my way to Tammy’s locker.

“Stan?”

“Kyle and Kenny?”

We both nod in understanding for each other and continue on our way.

Really, maybe I should just hit up Bebe and/or Heidi. They at least wouldn’t pull such shit on me.

More than a "No" they can’t say.

Meh, for now, I will drap myself over Tammy and tell her my woe.

Amazons of the Southern Lands

Nichole: Did you guys hear it? Stan and his gang are throwing a big party on Saturday!

Red: Yeah and apparently Lorde will be there!

Annie: Oh my god, Lorde I love her!

Heidi: Same! It’s like she totally gets me!

Bebe: Is there a dress code? What should we wear to it?

You all are aware that the guys just want to butter up us.

Wendy: I agree with N.K. Stan and his friends just want to be in our good graces again, helping spread awareness of diabetes my ass.

Bebe: Who gives a fuck? It’s Lorde! LORDE! Oh and pizza.

Red: But Lorde is more important.

You are selling your soul for Lorde?

Tammy: Now you are a bit dramatic sis! It’s not like you and Wendy have to talk to the boys. We girls will just go as a group, to eat the pizza and hear Lorde and you can ignore these idiots.

Wendy: If you put it that way….

I do like Pizza. And Lorde is fantastic. Okay fuck it, let fucking gooooooooooooo!

Bebe: That’s the spirit. Should we pick a theme for our clothes? How about flowers?

I can’t even answer this as my parents storm into our house. Surprised I jump from the couch I was sitting on.

“Mamma, Papà where is the fire?!”

My parents don’t even look at me as they run into the kitchen. They open drawers and our fridge, throwing a lot of our food in big garbage bags.

I stare at them with my chin on the floor.

“Mamma?!”, I shout.

Finally, she hears me, while Papà still throws food away, she kneels down and hugs me tight.

“My little princess, don’t worry! Mamma and Papà will do anything that the evil gluten doesn’t get you.”

I’m more confused than before.

“Huh?”

“Kelly, I think this is all!”

“Are you sure, Chris?”

Papà joins Mamma kneeling on the floor taking carefully my face in his hands.

“Princess, do you have any snacks in your room?”

“Erm, no, not right now?”

He nods and both my parents grab the full garbage bags and are out of the house again. I look after them. I see how all our neighbors are burning food on stakes.

What the fuck is going on?

My smartphone rings. I pick it up.

“Tammy, what’s up?”

“Did your parents also storm your house and are burning the food?”

“How do you know that?”

“Mine did this!”

“Oh dear lord what is going on now?”

I get my answer a while later, after Tammy and I theorized what the adults have now for problems.

My parents sit me down and explain to me that apparently, gluten is bad. It needs to get destroyed or my dick will fly off if I eat it.

Once again I’m a girl with girl parts, so that wouldn’t happen to me, but my parents are terrified.

Whatever they expired at the community center shocked them.

Now, how in the ever-loving fuck should I live without most of the food I love, because of course things like Pizza and Pasta are full of gluten.

This sucks ass!

The next days are crazy with this whole gluten pandemic going on. No one knows what to eat anymore and I swerve I lost probably three kilos already.

Stan and his gang cancel the party, only telling us after a few hours it’s back up.

Apparently, Cartman of all people found the solution to our food crisis.

I’m just…South Park is so fucked up in many ways.

I can’t okay?

But well, a party is still a party and our whole girl group is going. We took Bebe theme, flowers and are dressed in this way.

I formally battle to have cherry blossoms and wear a pretty pink dress with cherry blossoms on it. A hairpin decored with a cherry blossom and pink heels.

I have to admit the party of the boys is sweet. After all this panic we need this moment to relax and unwind.

I’m sitting at one of the tables, eating a steak with a lot of butter, enjoying Lorde singing.

Strange, I could have sworn she looked better on the magazine covers. Was it also Photoshop with her?

The other girls are dancing, talking to the others, or like Tammy gone to the restroom.

“Erm…Hello N.K.”, shy calls a know voice my name.

I turn to the person.

“Kyle.”

The red-haired boy has a cute blush on his face, playing with his fingers.

“It’s awesome that you could come.”, he tells me.

“I came here with my friends to hear Lorde.”, I state simply. “I’m still angry at you guys.”

He winces.

“You have the right to be. I really was a dick to you.”

“Yes, you were.”

I cut a bit of my steak and eat it.

“N.K. I’m really, really sorry. I was a stupid boy so fixed on earning money and never again go to school that I forget anything. Which was wrong, I know.”, he apologizes.

I sign.

“Well, you ARE still only ten, I shouldn’t be so angry. We all make mistakes.”

A cute smile forms on his face and I get to urge to kiss Kyle’s whole sweet face.

“Are we good again, N.K.?”

“Yeah, all right. I may still be a bit resentful, but we can be friends again.”

His smile gets just bigger.

Adorable!

“Would you…would maybe if you want…erm dance with me.”, he wonders, rubbing his neck.

Okay didn’t expect that.

Can’t help but blush too.

“Yeah, let’s dance Kyle.”

I take his hand and we start to dance. It’s more of a swaging around, but Kyle looking at me like I am a kind of goddess, is pleasing me greatly.

“Your dress is so pretty.”, he compliments me. “It fits you so much.”

Kyle being all shy and cute gives me an enormous ego boost. Normally I’m a bit shy with redheads or incredibly horny.

But with Kyle…it’s so simple and nice.

I lean down and plant a soft kiss on his cheek. I feel how warm his cheek gets under my lips. A cute squeaking sound left him.

“You are adorable.”

He blushes more.

Smiling at each other with twinkling eyes we sway while Lorde sings.

It’s really, really romantic.

I don’t know for how long we dance, at least three songs, as I see how Kenny comes towards us.

Uh-Oh.

“Hey guys.”, he greets us, sending Kyle a sharp look, which the redhead counters. “Mind if I step in?”

“Actually, yes.”, hisses Kyle.

Not even a second after he said it I let go of him.

Kyle looks surprised.

“N.K.?”

“Oh no, you two aren’t starting a competition for my hand or something. I’m not I prize to be won.”, I make myself clear. “I like you both and I know that’s unfair, but I can’t decide, so please let us all be just friends. I don’t need more drama in my life.”

Guilty the boys nod.

“Can I still dance with you? I want also to say sorry for what a dick I was to you.”, ask me Kenny with big puppy dog eyes.

“I will get some ice cream.”, let Kyle us be, even if I can see that it breaks his heart.

Why can’t I just decide?

Polyamory, it’s simple as that!

Brain, not now!

So I and Kenny dance and he says sorry too. Like with Kyle, I accept it.

With Kenny, I really dance. I’m quite surprised by what moves he can do.

I can’t help but laugh happily as he twirls me around and then even tango-dips me.

Me! Who is a head taller than him!

I would lie if I didn’t say that this turns me on.

For that, I give him also a kiss on the cheek.

He grins wide and brightly, which makes my heart race.

After I few songs I tell Kenny that this is enough, I don’t want to play favorites with him and Kyle.

He accepts it, albeit sad, and lets me go.

With a last smile to him, I walk to Tammy and ask her for a dance.

At least with my super best friend, there aren’t any problems.

We both take turns leading and I get Tammy to blush like a tomato as I tango-dip her.

For the rest of the party, I stay with the girls.

I even get to dance with Wendy, Bebe, and Heidi.

I twirled Wendy so much around that she asked laughing for a break.

Bebe and I just started to twerk for fun at one point.

And Heidi was so cute!

She blushed the whole time.

Mmh, maybe I should really ask her out….

Whatever this party was amazing!

Can’t wait for the next one.

Next

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[roscgcld]

HEADCANON + VARIOUS || daydreaming!reader turning into a toddler

request: Okay you know the turn into toddler on but with bimbo reader, she'd be so cute ❤️❤️as a toddler and they have an excuse to use the leash because children are fast

note: this was originally going to be an ask, but then I decided to write headcanons for our daydreaming!reader - so this was born lmaoooo. i hope you enjoy cx you can find all the original prompts for this under the hashtag daydreaming!reader on my profile!

also - yuta is going to be in this because let’s be honest - stressed yuta is lowkey really cute lol

pronouns: she/her

daydreaming!reader masterlist

let me say this - when she was first turned into a child, it was absolute chaos

the worse part was it happened mid battle - one moment she was charging to the curse with her katana in hand, next thing the rest of them knew she had shrunk and she was freefalling from the jump she launched herself into

yuji, who was the closest to her, widen his eyes before he ran towards his senior and caught her before she landed on the ground, holding her against his chest as he stares down at the girl with wide eyes; who blinked up at him as well

“Y-Y/N-senpai?” yuji mutters in shock as he stares down at the young girl in his arms, who just smiles back before she reaches up to cup her tiny hands on his sweaty cheeks. 

“doggy.” 

after the curse was exorcise, the rest of the first years gathered around yuji, since they were supposed to accompany their senior out to exorcise a curse in a nearby hospital

how are they going to go back to school carrying a child with them? 

they did - and the first person they ran into was gojo, who waited by the door to greet his students; only to freeze when he saw the child staring back at him in yuji’s arms

“wait a minute,” gojo mutters as he pulls his blindfold down as he narrowed his sapphire eyes at the young girl, who just blinks and smiles up at him in delight. “holy shit - it really is her.”

the first stop they visited was ieiri, who held the giggling child in her arms after running a few tests. “it’s not permanent - it’s a cursed technique. I can’t reverse it since it’s not an actual wound, so the best remedy is waiting.” she stated as she bounced the young girl in her arms, who was busy playing with her hair in her tiny hands. “my guess is that it’ll last no more than 24 hours.”

24 hours wouldn’t be that hard, right? i mean, they already take care of her on the daily - what’s another 24 hours?

well - the fact that she runs on pure energy. fushiguro looked down as he pulled out a tissue from the packet he was holding in his hands for one second, and when he looked up again, she was missing 

it took the three first years and their tall teacher a solid 10 minutes before they found her

she was curled up in inumaki’s arms, the cursed speech user just cuddling her without a care in the world while maki looked mortified that her already handful classmate was now a child

and she hates children with a burning passion

 after getting the brief rundown by their teacher, they just watch how the little girl, who was now set down on her feet, ran about their legs as she giggles to herself; as if she was trying to traverse an endless maze. “what an idiot.” 

the next person who saw her was yuta, who returned from a meeting with the higher ups

he had entered the campus, just in time to see gojo running past with a child on his shoulders, giggling to her heart’s content

that sight alone was confusing to yuta, but when gojo noticed him and came over with a grin, yuta got a good look at the child resting on his tall teacher’s shoulders

and then almost past out from the shock of seeing his fellow classmate blinking down at him, her small hands gripping onto gojo’s hair as she smiles down at him

after a cup of tea and a lengthy explanation, yuta watches the young girl play with the strap of his weapon’s bag that resting on the ground, making a noise 

“at least now we have a reason to use the child leash.”

“..now that you’ve mention it - we should break it out.” maki stated simply before she got up and left, leaving yuta to explain to the confused group of people how him and maki had purchased a children’s leash to use on her whenever they go out to tokyo so they never loose her

they never really had a chance to use it; but since she is the way she is now, it was probably the better option then running around chasing her

so now there was maki, with one end of the leash wrapped around her hand whilst the other was wrapped around the young girl’s wrist as she ran about 

feeding her was an absolute pain - it took a solid 30 minutes to get her eat half of the food since she kept getting side tracked and forget to chew her food. so it just sat in her cheeks as she played with yuta’s fingers or tried to catch a flying beetle 

poor maki got the scare of her life when the little girl gifted her a squirming beetle that refused to crawl off her uniform; her grossed out expression evident as she flicked it off with her fingers

nobara and yuji were laughing their asses off as gojo recorded the entire incident. inumaki was biting his fist as he shook with laughter while yuta grinned and told the confused girl how she shouldn’t be picking up bugs at random unless she ‘wants them to give you an owie’

for once they had a relatively normal day - cloud watching, flower picking, feeding the koi fish in the pond on the school grounds, playing tag in the huge field. she forced everything to do the more mundane somewhat normal things as well, forcing everyone to take a well deserved break 

by the time the evening arrived, many of the students and gojo were laying on the grassy field of the school compound, watching how the sky slowly started to bleed with different shades of reds and oranges as the sun started to set

“is it bad that i enjoyed this day?” fushiguro muttered as he closes his eyes, one arm covering his eyes whilst the other was petting his Devine dog that he had summoned to track the little girl down earlier 

she had escaped to go and pick flowers in the wooded area, almost giving everyone a heart attack when they couldn’t find her. 

“nah, it was nice.” maki said with a tired hum as she watches the clouds, her head laid against panda’s side whilst yuta laid on the ground beside her, watching the clouds with a content sigh. “who knew it took a brat to make us relax.” 

said brat was fast asleep in nobara’s side, who cuddled the sleeping girl close. “well, whatever the reason may be - i enjoyed it a lot, and it will be fun to look back on in the future.” 

somehow they managed to clean her from all the sweat and dirt before tucking her back in her room, and somehow had to read a few bedtime stories after she whines and refuses to go to bed until she was read to

by the time the others went to bed, they were pretty much dead to the world - having the best night’s sleep after having been worked to the bone by one child 

when the next morning arrived, and maki saw a sleepy Y/N walking about tiredly as she tried to fill her bottle of water from the water fountain, she just sighs in relief

to the point where she goes over and hugs the sleepy girl, who just yawned and hugged her back with one arm while the other filled her bottle of water

“good morning to you too, maki.”

when she saw all the videos and pictures of what happened yesterday, she just smiles over at the tired students, clapping her hands softly in delight

“at least you guys had fun, no?”

her simple answer had everyone pausing as they shared a look with one another before they all just agreed, since yesterday was definitely fun 

maybe having her as a child wasn’t that bad after all

© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform

[saltybaltic]

AYO YOU AMAZING WRITER YOU💖 Can you write an nsfw Natasha x reader sex pollen fic where r goes on a mission with everyone and is the only one that gets hit with the sex pollen and thinks nothing of it until they get back for the debrief and r starts feeling the effects during the meeting with the rest of the avengers in there like the fever and aches and is super turned on and humiliated and everyone is confused trying to figure out what’s wrong then Bruce says the only thing that can help is sex and she picks Nat to help her out? Something super smutty 😳

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - EXPOSURE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On a mission you seem to be the only one who’s been hit with this air borne drug. Fortunately you have a great team mate to help you through it

Warnings: 18+ content, f/f sex, sex pollen so the usual dub-con for this trope

Words: 2345

You’d really thought nothing of it until you’d gotten off the quinjet. Even the whole journey home you had felt fine, brushing off everyone’s concern with a flick of the wrist as if it was nothing. You really had felt fine. The exposure to the gas back at the enemy base had been minimal, barely a few seconds, and after a brief once over by one of the SHIELD medics, you had been given the all clear that it was probably fine.

It wasn’t until you were walking towards the briefing room to have the post mission meeting that you started to feel anything unusual. Your skin was starting to itch with a burning hotness that was impossible to ignore. When you had parted ways with the team to quickly get changed out of your combat gear before the brief, you had treated yourself to a very cold shower but if anything it only seemed to have made you even more aware of how hot you were feeling. Washing at all was starting to feel like a total waste of time, your hands already clammy with sweat and the hair by your temples beginning to dampen and cling to the side of your head. Your brain felt fuzzy but at that same time it was like you were thinking with perfect clarity. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before.

Looking around the briefing room as you entered, it was as if you were wearing tinted glasses, everything not quite the way it should be and with a tinge of deep red or orange. You could feel every beat of your pulse against your skull, every hammer of your heart in your chest. Your throat felt dry yet you couldn’t stop running your tongue over your lips to prevent your mouth from watering.

It wasn’t until Natasha sat down beside you that it became apparent that something was very wrong. The smell hit you like a bus and it only intensified everything you were already feeling. It was like your senses had been dialled up threefold. You could take her all in as if it were carefully arranged layers just for you to enjoy; the coconut of her shampoo, the sweet smell of the lotion she’d applied after the shower, the laundry detergent on her fresh clothes, the smell of her perfume.

Maybe it wasn’t the most subtle reaction you could have had if you were hoping not to attract any attention, but jumping up from your seat so violently that your chair fell backwards with a loud crash certainly ensured that everyone’s eyes were now on you.

“Are you okay?” The concerned voice of Bruce from the other side of the room hit you but you could barely focus on what he was saying.

Standing up from her own seat to look at you more closely, Natasha cocked her head to the side as she examined your flushed skin, heavy breathing and blown out pupils. She turned back to the others in the room with a frown, “See, I told you she wasn’t alright.”

“But the medics checked her over.”

“Oh like they know everything.”

“Well they know more than you!”

“It was only a minor exposure and we don’t even know what it was.”

“She said she was feeling fine on the quinjet, I mean this could be something else.”

“Sure, it’s just a huge coincidence that she feels like this after being gassed.”

As the team descended into an argument, you couldn’t really hear what they were saying. Nor, did you care. You felt restless and fidgety, tapping your foot up and down against the ground as you rubbed at your forearms uncomfortably. Your jaw was clenched tight, tilting your head from side to side to work the muscles in your neck as you tried to get your breathing to return to normal. It felt like an adrenaline rush, that feeling that hits you just as the rollercoaster is about to go over the big drop. But it also felt like a hunger, a craving for something like you were a predator that needed to hunt. It was too hard to put your finger on it, too early in the stages of whatever you were feeling to identify it yet.

The sound of someone calling your name broke you from your thoughts, looking up at the rest of the occupants in the room to see them all watching you expectantly.

“What?”

Sitting down by a laptop at the head of the table, Bruce pushed his glasses up his nose as he tapped a few keys before looking up at you, “I’ll have to use the database we have to try and identify what you’ve been exposed to. But I need you to concentrate and answer a few questions okay?”

You nodded your head, closing your eyes momentarily as a wave of heat washed over your body and you tried to remained focused, “Sure, sure, sure let’s do it.”

“So this gas ... could you see it? Did it have a colour?”

It was so hard to focus on the question, your brain working at a million miles a minute but unable to make sense of whatever it was that you were thinking about, “Erm ... I don’t ... it was kind of ... like a greyish blue, I guess.”

“And a smell? Did it have a smell?”

“It was ... sweet. I suppose. Yeah ... but like ... a dessert or something. Like someone had lit a vanilla candle.”

The questions seemed to go on forever, with the occasional interjection from someone else as they tried to help with the answers. Each question narrowed the possibilities down further, Bruce carefully inputting the information into the computer. By the time he got to the bottom of it, you could barely think straight any more, your hands balling into fists as you tried to process the discussion that was taking place around you.

“That’s ridiculous, they don’t actually use that stuff.”

“Well obviously they do because here we are.”

“If they don’t use it then how is it in their files? We only have the information because we took it from them.”

“But there’s never actually been a case of it being used before.”

“Until now.”

“I mean just wanting to have a lot of sex doesn’t sound that bad, there are worse ways to spend an afternoon.”

“Tony! Can you be serious for one second.”

“It isn’t that simple. This is like a real urge. It can be quite uncomfortable for the subject they-“

“The subject?! She has a name you know.”

“But she’s not gonna do anything crazy right?”

“Well no she won’t do anything she wouldn’t usually want to do but the need will be off the charts. It can drive people crazy if they don’t get some sort of relief from it.”

Finally you couldn’t take any more, clearing your throat loudly to get their attention and gesturing towards the door, “Yeah so this is pretty awkward, little embarrassing, bit too intimate to be honest so I think I’m gonna take off.”

“Wait, you should go to the med bay.”

You interrupted Steve’s statement with a laugh, already making your way towards the door as you used all of your willpower to ignore the powerful surge of hormones and need coursing through your body, “What are they gonna do for me there exactly?”

“I dunno, some of those nurses are pretty cute.”

Despite the fact Tony’s joke earned him a disapproving look from almost everyone, you were actually grateful for it, laughing again as you took his words as your cue to escape and hastily left. You were halfway to your room when you heard the sound of feet hitting the ground behind you.

“Wait up.”

God even the sound of her voice was getting too much now.

“Nat. Please, I really really can’t be around you.”

Despite your statement, the red head fell into step just behind you and followed you down the corridor, “I wanted to make sure you got back alright.”

“And while I appreciate that, you’re way too hot to be this close to me.” your eyes fell closed at your words, the effects obviously starting to hit you stronger now as the confession fell freely from your lips. You never spoke to Natasha like this, you wouldn’t have dared on a normal day for fear she’d knock you to ground. Whatever you’d inhaled earlier that day didn’t seem to share your reservations as the arousal started to make itself known.

Natasha pursed her lips, not wanting to embarrass you as she was fairly certain you would never have normally said something like that to her. Certainly not so blasé. “It’s okay. I know this must be ... overwhelming.”

You snorted, “That’s one word for it. But seriously ... I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here.”

“Well I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone.”

Stopping outside your bedroom door, you looked back at the other woman and immediately had to close your eyes and turn your head away instead as a strong pang of arousal hit you, “Jesus.”

“What? Does it hurt?” the concern in Natasha’s voice was obvious, watching you carefully as your eyes bunched closed tighter and you pushed out a shaky breath.

Shaking your head frantically from side to side, you went to grab the door handle from behind the other woman, “It’s uncomfortable. It’s way too intense. I just wanna ... fuck ... I need to get inside ... I need ... I need you to move, please.”

The sensation of Natasha’s hands coming up to rest on your cheeks caused your breath to catch in your throat. It was almost too much, the feeling of her soft skin on yours was like electricity, a shiver travelling the length of your spine and a heavy drop hitting your stomach. One of her thumbs brushed over your cheek before she spoke, “Let me help you.”

When you opened your eyes to look at her, the feeling that came over you was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was as if someone else had taken control of you, like you were watching from the sidelines as your body acted of it’s own accord. The moment your eyes had locked with Natasha’s, everything you’d been fighting to control took hold of you and in three brisk steps forward you had the other woman caged between the door and your body, one of your hands coming up to rest on the wood beside her head.

“Natasha.” You paused to wet your lips, ignoring the huskiness to your voice as you scrambled around in your head for the smallest ounce of restraint, “You really need to leave now before I do something I can’t take back.”

If you had been expecting any reaction from the other woman, what she actually did would have been somewhere at the bottom of your list. Over the year or so that you’d worked with Natasha you’d had a mostly professional relationship, though that wasn’t to say you weren’t friendly with one another. However the forwardness of her next move was new territory all together.

Moving her hands from your cheeks, she ran them slowly down to either side of your neck. You could do nothing but lean into the gesture, goosebumps rising and flesh searing at the feeling of her fingertips digging into you. You were so lost in the sensation of her touch that you hadn’t realised she’d leaned closer until her hot breath hit the shell of your ear and she spoke in a low whisper, “But just think how good it would feel if you let me help you.”

Her words actually pulled a growl from the back of your throat, the ever growing heat between your thighs magnifying significantly at her words, “Nat ... last warning.”

Instead of backing down, Natasha tilted her head enough that her lips could attach to the side of your neck before speaking again, “Stop fighting it, I know you want me.”

That was enough. You couldn’t have prevented it no matter what had tried to stop you, pushing the door open with one hand as the other gripped the back of her neck and pulled her into a searing kiss. Practically falling through the door together, Natasha’s hands found your waist and all you could do was groan at the relief of the full body contact. Feeling the way her breasts pressed up against your chest, her tongue slipping into your mouth, her hands around your waist as yours slipped down to grope at her ass. God it was intoxicating and still you wanted more

If you had any control over the urges that were powering your body you’d probably have wanted to take your time. Your attraction to Natasha wasn’t something you were particularly ashamed of or desperate to hide. However you’d barely got as far as building up a friendship with the red head and so jumping straight into sex seemed like you were skipping a few important steps. Not to mention the fact that you were fairly certain this was not going to be a terribly slow or tender encounter. No. With the way you were already pulling her clothing from her body and tearing at your own, you both knew that this was something else all together.

Fortunately for both parties Natasha really didn’t mind. Of course after Bruce had explained the effects you would be feeling, what else would she be expecting really? But in the time the two of you had been working together she had come to care for you and the idea of you struggling alone wasn’t something she cared for. Also she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about you in a sexual way before, granted she never thought this would be how it happened.

In all your haste to get Natasha undressed you actually fumbled several times with the fastening of her bra, sure that you’d be embarrassed under normal circumstances but currently too frustrated and impatient to care. You were relieved when Natasha wordlessly reached around and undid the clasp herself, throwing the item across the room before wrapping her arms around your body to do the same with your clothing.

You could barely register what was happening as the two of you staggered backwards into your bedroom, barely managing not to trip over the clothing and shoes that you’d discarded on the way. You were too lost in her to bring yourself to care about being careful. Just kissing her was absolute heaven. Her tongue sliding over yours, lips working frantically together. You had expected Natasha to be a good kisser and maybe it was just the effects of what you had been exposed to but it was like a sparks were flying, a warm wave washing over your body and a pang of arousal with every soft moan from the red head that vibrated against your lips. The way she would occasionally suck your tongue more harshly into her mouth made you feel wobbly on your feet, and the sensation of her nipping your lower lip between her teeth had you desperate for more.

It didn’t take long for you to be pinned on the mattress beneath her, both naked now and lips still moulded together as she settled herself on top of you. Already you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against her thigh, desperate to relieve some of the pressure that had started to build. If anything you needed it more now, the arousal bordering on uncomfortable as you became acutely aware of just how wet you were against Natasha’s thigh.

The other woman didn’t need to be told, evidence of your arousal already coating her skin. She finally broke the kiss to lean down, but she had barely attached her lips to one of your nipples when you pulled her back up with a frantic shake of your head and a groan, “Please Nat, I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me already, please.”

You felt on the verge of crying you wanted it so bad, the whole experience completely foreign to you. It was bizarre to be overwhelmed with such a primal, animalistic need. Every time you found yourself in bed with a woman you enjoyed everything about it; lavishing her body with attention, the anticipation, the teasing, wanting to take her to the heights of pleasure over and over. This was nothing like that at all. You really just wanted to fuck. More than anything you wanted to come and you were fairly certain if you didn’t soon then it would be the death of you.

Nodding her head in understanding, Natasha pressed her lips to yours again as she propped herself up on one of her elbows, “I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

You were so soaked by now her fingers slipped easily inside of you and all you could do was lie back and release a loud moan. You weren’t sure whether it was in relief or pleasure but either way you were certain that Natasha’s fingers had to be one of the most wonderful things you’d ever felt in your life. Just one thrust of her digits already had your fingers grabbing at the sheets below you, heels digging into the mattress and head thrown back against the pillow in bliss as finally, finally you were given what you had been craving.

“Good?” asked Natasha, her fingers having stilled inside of you almost immediately as she waited for some kind of signal from you that what she was doing was definitely what you wanted.

Nodding your head hurriedly, you brought her mouth down to meet yours again, mumbling frantically against her lips between kisses, “So fucking good ... keep going.”

Natasha grinned, happy to oblige as she started to move her hand again and picked up a steady pace. Almost immediately your hips were moving of their own accord to match her, grinding down against her fingers as she worked them inside of you. Every thrust was heaven, the woman above you seemingly knowing exactly what you needed as she began to push into you harder and faster with each stroke.

Everything about it was satisfying the urges that had been threatening to overwhelm you. The brush of her hardened nipples against your chest as she moved above you. The frantic pants for breath into your mouth between heated and messy kisses. The intensity of how she was watching you and the subtle smirk on her lips as she knew how much you were enjoying what she was doing. When her thumb came up to brush over your clit you wanted to be embarrassed at the groan of pleasure that rang out in the room but you were too far gone now to care.

All of it was perfect. She was perfect. You could feel your head getting foggy, that faint twitch to your limbs as the pleasure was building in the pit of your stomach. As you tightened around Natasha’s fingers you craved the release that you knew was so close. The way her eyes were locked on you almost made you melt under her gaze, the darkened green eyes and pink tinged cheeks making sure you definitely wanted to have your way with her after this.

You could feel it happening, allowing the sensation of your orgasm to consume you as it started to hit with another brush of your clit and a curl of Natasha’s fingers. A loud cry of her name echoed off the walls at the action, your teeth sinking into the side of her neck in a failed attempt to muffle the noise. You couldn’t catch your breath at the feeling of satisfaction that finally swept over your body, hands gripping at her shoulders and toes curling into the mattress as you relished the moment. Your thighs quivered slightly and you could feel your pussy clenching around Natasha’s fingers, the red head groaning in quiet appreciation at the sensation. It was exactly what you needed.

And just as her fingers were beginning to still, you could already feel the arousal rising again. The tingles of pleasure had barely subsided and you hadn’t even had a chance to catch your breath before you were hungry for more. Natasha seemed to notice it at the same time you did, not missing the way your eyes had clouded over with lust again.

You were filled with relief when you caught her smirking and her fingers started to slowly move again.

Yeah, Natasha was definitely the right person to help you with this problem.

—//—

Find the morning after HERE

[buttybarnes1917]

Innocence

Word Count: 2,089

Okay. First smut fic in a very long time. It might suck, but I’m going to try really hard to make it not suck.  

Ft. fem reader and rockstar!bucky. I feel like this is absolutely going to become an AU, so it’ll get it’s own header on my masterlist!!

Warnings: dirty talk, nickname (kitten), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink, somehow also a degradation kink, Bucky is obsessed with Readers innocence, minors dni

You rolled your eyes in disgust as you heard moaning coming from Bucky’s dressing room.  

Again.

God, he was literally insatiable.  It seemed like every show, he was pulling some girl backstage, kissing messily in the hallway as the rest of the crew worked around him and then inevitably the girl would end up in his dressing room or his bunk in the bus, which, literally made no sense considering how muscular he was.  Those bunks were so small.  But the girls would never stay for long, and then you would get the fun job of escorting her back to the audience, with her calling “call me!” to Bucky and Bucky already forgetting her name.

You leaned on the wall, sighing a little as you heard her moaning again and Bucky’s short grunts.  God. If he wasn’t so infuriating, he might even be hot.  

Oh, who were you kidding.  He was hot. Six foot three, at least, insane arm muscles from the hours upon hours of playing drums, long curly brown hair and tattoos that curled around his body, Bucky Barnes was everyone’s ideal bad boy.  On top of the fact that you had heard from the people on the crew that he had been with that he was… very well endowed.  

Natasha from lighting told you that he was more skilled with his fingers than a drummer should be, and that she was having trouble walking for days after her encounter with him.  Loki from rigging told you the way he used his tongue on them was “magical” and that they had trouble finding someone who could live up to that.  Steve from audio told you that he could find your weaknesses almost immediately and that he had “never been with someone who made him cum so many times”.  Which would have grossed you out, honestly, if you weren’t so impressed.  

The door opened and you pushed yourself off the wall, as the girl pulled her jacket over her shoulders, blushing as she saw you.  Bucky leaned on the doorframe and smirked at her.  

“You’ll call me next time you’re in town, right?”  She asked, giggling at him a little.  Your nose wrinkled a little as you smelled the weed on her, and you rolled your eyes.  

“Sure thing, doll.” He nodded.  You cleared your throat.  

“This way, hon, the show’s about to start,” you said softly and walked off with her. You gently pushed her through the curtain and security walked her to her seat.  You turned and sighed softly and bumped into Bucky. “Oh, I’m sorry.” You said quickly pushing yourself off him.  He grinned down at you.

“Not a problem, kitten,” he said.  You made a face.

“My name is y/n. Not kitten.” You corrected him, and he slowly smirked at you.

“Apologies, kitten.” He said again and you rolled your eyes, walking back toward the side stage.  He trailed along behind you.

“You’re the assistant tour manager or something, right?” he asked. “You’re always here late, setting shit up.”

“Yep.” You responded, your eyes on your clipboard as you walked.

“Don’t you ever do anything other than work?” he asked, snatching your clipboard away from you. You turned immediately and he held the clipboard over your head, laughing as you tried to grab it.  You punched him in the stomach, thinking he would bend over, and he just laughed more. “You call that a punch?”

“You’re an asshole.” You said, punching your fists to your hips.

“And you’re short.  Didn’t know we were saying obvious things,” he responded.  You both glanced over at the stage as you heard the stage manager call out that there were five minutes left until show time.  Bucky brought down the clipboard and you snatched it from his hand.

“Break a leg.” You said to him.  “Literally.” You turned walking away, shivering as you felt Bucky’s gaze on you.

 ******

 You sighed softly as you walked through the venue later that night, after the show was finished.  The band had only one more show in this building, but there had been consistent problems with the haze machines setting off the fire detectors.  Which by definition was not supposed to happen, since the haze mix was water based.  You assumed that the haze tech had just ordered whatever was cheapest and you wanted to double check that the machines were working properly.  As you pushed the door open, you heard drums from the stage and swore to yourself.  Of course, Bucky was here.  This night couldn’t get worse.  

You walked backstage and fiddled around with the machines, sighing as you did. The haze tech had ended up screwing up one of the machines with a mix of different hazes, so of course it was your job to fix it now.  The tour manager didn’t want to spend extra money, and you had been touring since you were a kid, your parents both a huge part of the industry.  

“Didn’t know you were here,” you heard and looked up as Bucky walked backstage, twirling his drumsticks, grinning at you.  You rolled your eyes.

“Someone has to clean up after everyone’s messes.” You responded.

“Mmm.” He grinned and leaned on the road case next to you.  “You’re the one that helps with the girls, aren’t you?” he asked, and your cheeks flushed red as you worked.  You didn’t look up at him, refusing to let him see you blush.  

“Yeah.”

“Thanks for that.” Bucky said.  “They get clingy after a while.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yes, we’ve established that.” Bucky grinned.  

“I don’t want to hear about your fucking sex addiction right now, Barnes.  I’m trying to fix this haze machine.” You said finally looking up at him.  

“Oh, I’ll be real, its not an addiction.  I’m just very into sex, and I enjoy it.”  He grinned. “Don’t you enjoy it?”

“I’m not talking about sex with you.” You said and looked down at the machine.

“Oh, come on.  That’s gonna make me think you’re a virgin.”  He chuckled and you didn’t reply. “Wait… no way.  You’re actually a virgin?” he asked.  You rolled your eyes.

“My sex life is none of your business.”  You said, your voice shaking a little nervously.  

“So, you are a virgin.” He responded, grinning.  He hopped onto the road case, swinging his legs.  “How have you been on the road this long without at the very least getting head?”

“Oh my God.” You mumbled, your face blushing bright red. “You’re such an—”

“Asshole, yeah, it’s on my resume,” Bucky smirked.  “You’ve got to have thought about it.  I mean.  It can’t be easy, hearing me fuck nearly everyone on this tour—”

“You’re such an arrogant asshole, not everyone wants to—”

“Yeah, but you do,” Bucky cut you off.  “I’ve seen how you look at the girls that leave my room.  You’re jealous, aren’t you, kitten?”

“Don’t call me that.”  You said, shivering just a little.  Unfortunately, Bucky noticed.  

“You are jealous,” he said grinning and sliding off the road case, moving toward you.  “You’ve probably touched yourself to hearing me with those other people, haven’t you kitten?” You backed away, shaking a little.

“Bucky--“

“Now don’t lie to me kitten,” he said smirking as you bumped into another road case. He placed a hand on either side of you and grinned down at you. “How long have you wanted to kiss me, kitten?” he asked, and you whimpered a little at the nickname.

“I…” you stammered out as you felt his calloused fingers drift down the skin of your arm. “Bucky…”

“So, a while,” he chuckled softly, leaning so his lips brushed across your neck. “If you don’t want this, tell me.  I’m an asshole, not a jerk.” He said grinning a little.  You bit your lip, looking up at him.  In truth, he was right.  You had wanted this for so long.  You had held off, not wanting to be that girl that slept with the drummer, that slept with people to get ahead.  But let’s be real—Bucky had slept with half the crew already—not just women, but men too, and non-binary people.  You wouldn’t get looked down on at all, and if anyone did, they’d be looking down on themselves as well.  

“Kiss me,” you said softly and a second later you felt Bucky’s lips crash against yours in a fevered kiss as he lifted you effortlessly onto the road case.  Your legs wrapped around his hips automatically as he gripped your hips tightly.  You slipped your fingers through his hair, shivering as you heard a groan fall from his lips as you tugged gently.  He pulled away from your mouth, kissing down your neck, worshiping the area where your jaw met your neck. “Don’t leave a mark—” you gasped out, your face burning and he smirked at you.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he growled, and you felt a wetness pool between your thighs as he growled at you.  You whimpered as you felt his teeth work at your skin, your fingers gripping his hair tightly as you moaned, pushing your hips into his.  “God, you’re so needy for me, aren’t you, kitten?” he purred into your ear, one of his hands finding its way up your shirt and pushing it up, exposing your breasts to the cold air.  You gasped out his name breathlessly as he pinched and pulled at your nipple.  “Such a good, responsive girl, hmm?” he whispered into your ear.  “Never had anyone touch you like this, have you?  Never had anyone make you feel this good, have you, kitten?”

“No, Bucky, no one,” you breathed out whimpering and arching your back.  He slipped his hands down your body, unbuttoning your pants.

“I’m going to take my time with you, kitten,” he smirked, kneeling in front of you as he pulled your pants down past your knees.  

“What… What are you…” you panted, watching him, then falling back onto your elbows with a gasp as he flicked his tongue against your clit.  “Holy shit” you cried out as he sucked your clit into his mouth, rubbing his finger around your entrance, collecting your slick on his fingers. He slowly pulled away, smirking up at you as he slipped his fingers into his mouth, tasting you.

“God, kitten, you’re nearly dripping for me,” he whispered.  “You’re so wet for me, kitten, and I’ve barely even done anything.”

“Bucky, please—” you begged.

“I’ll be nice to you this once, kitten, because it’s your first,” he grinned.  “Remember that.”  He leaned forward again, slipping his tongue into you as you moaned almost immediately, your head falling back as your chest heaved with your heavy breaths. He slipped a finger into you, pumping in and out as you arched up into his hand.  “Where is it, kitten, where’s your spot—” he whispered and suddenly you felt a burst of pleasure and you cried out, your hips bucking up.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Just Bucky is fine,” he smirked, and any other time you would have punched him in the arm, but he added another finger and oh fuck he was hitting that spot again, and everything was feeling so good, and he was moaning and sucking on your clit and…and…and…

“Bucky, holy fuck!” you cried out, your back arching as you clenched around his fingers, cumming harder than you ever had before by your own hand or vibrator. He slowly pumped his fingers in and out, rising from his knees to kiss you deeply through it as your legs shook. You pulled away, gasping as he slowly pulled his fingers from you.  You moaned softly as he licked his fingers, grinning at you.

“God, kitten, you taste so good for me,” he smirked softly and kissed you.  You shivered as you tasted yourself on his lips, and he pulled away, tilting your head up, his finger hooked under your chin. “Meet me in my dressing room tomorrow, after load out,” he smirked. “There’s so much more I want to teach you.”

[1kook]

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags;  jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either  the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away.  His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

Copyright © August 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[wandas-sunshine]

Good Measure (Kinktober Day 13)

Kinktober Schedule

Prompt: Breeding

Pairing: Thor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,361

Warnings: Unprotected sex, almost oral, fingering, drinking mentions, really tacky dirty talk

A/N: Listen,,,I don’t think this is so good because I don’t write for Thor and I don’t write breeding really but uhhhh I love it and hopefully you do too. Also thank you all for being so incredibly patient with me trying to get these out to you.

You’d never given much thought to having children. You supposed it would happen one day. As the queen of Asgard you were expected to produce at least one heir to the throne, not to mention that your husband was the god of fertility among other things. But it was never anything you’d discussed.

So of course it was a shock to find that longing swirling deep within you. You were in the middle of a party, a huge Asgardian celebration of yet another battle won. You were nursing your drink, listening to a couple of the warriors talk about their first battles. The stories always flowed as the drinks did. With every refill they got louder and louder, more boisterous. It always made you smile, but someone was missing.

You looked up, scanning the room for your love. Through the night you’d seen a few children running around, weaving between the legs of their elders. It reminded you of when you and Thor were children, chasing one another around when you were meant to behave. But mostly you were surprised to see them surrounding Thor.

They all watched the warriors with stars in their eyes. You watched on as your husband scooped a small girl, no older than four or five into his arms. He hoisted her easily over his head, and she giggled brightly. His interactions with the small herd of kids was effortless, and it made you fantasize about a future where you had a few of them running around.

The longer you let yourself watch them, the more you felt that ache deep inside of you. You could see it, you holding a baby while he played with a little boy, one that looked so much like him. You exhaled deeply. You needed it.

You didn’t think that’s where your mind should have been, not in the middle of this crowd. You were flustering at the thought of being full with your King’s baby, of growing heavier, bearing his child for the entire world to see. A swirling heat blossomed in your core.

Thor looked up at you, whispering something in the girl’s ear and pointing in your direction. You bit back a desperate groan. You needed him. The child beamed and waved at you. You waved back. You had never needed anything the way you needed that. How did he have the audacity to play with children that way when he...well, he didn’t really have any idea how badly you wanted one now.

You downed your drink and excused yourself from your friends. You needed some air, needed to clear your mind. You weaved through the crowd until you had made it out into the wide open corridor.

This wasn’t the time to fuss over your desperation. You were like a horny teenager and it was, quite frankly, pathetic. You smoothed your hands over the front of your gown and rested your back against one of the pillars.

“There you are, my love.” Thor’s voice boomed through the quiet hall, and you turned to look at him. He had a brilliant grin on his face as he scooped you into his arms. You relaxed against his chest and snaked your arms around his shoulders. “Is everything alright? You’re thinking.”

 He reached up to trace your jawline. You nibbled on your bottom lip before looking up to meet his eye.

“I want to have a baby.” You stated, running your hands down over his broad shoulders to rest against his chest. “Wouldn’t that be lovely?”

A low growl rumbled through his chest, and the hand he’d left on your waist traveled lower to rest at your hip. His eyes closed, but you were sure they’d gone dark, stormy with lust. You were familiar with the look.

“Say it again,” He requested, voice low and rolling over you. You felt a shiver run through you.

“I want to have a baby.” You tipped forward to kiss his neck. “I want to carry your child. Please, my king.”

The thought of you growing with his heir forming in your belly was hard enough to resist. And with you begging like that?

He scooped you up without any struggle, marching the two of you up the obnoxious amount of stairs until, finally, the two of you made it to your bedchamber.

He settled you back on your feet. Carefully he guided you into the privacy of your room, closing the door behind you. You backed towards the bed, and Thor watched, scanning his heavy gaze over your body. You wondered what was going on in his mind.

Then he was stalking closer, like a hunger with his prey. You giggled as you scrambled back. But he was quicker, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you into him once again and captured your lips with his.

The kiss was hot and fast, but by no means rough. His hands trailed your sides, firm and heavy while his mouth worked against yours. You were intoxicated, drunk on the taste of his lips and the mead he’d been downing all night. He pushed the draping fabric of your gown off your skin, and you let it fall around your ankles.

He stepped back, hands gliding over bare skin and leaving sparks of electricity in his wake. He hummed, taking in every delicious inch of you. He shed his own clothes, piece by piece until he was just as bared and vulnerable as you were.

You settled onto the oversized, plush bed, opening your legs for your lover to settle in between. He slotted himself against you, his mouth finding yours again like a man starved. His tongue dipped past your lips, meeting your own in a dance of pure admiration.

Your fingers carded into his hair, holding him close to you. You kissed until he had you breathless in his arms. As you chased your breath, he slurred sloppy kisses from your lips, to your cheek, to your jaw, down your neck. You closed your eyes, relishing in the heaven of affection he was raining down on you.

He continued his ministrations, praising every inch of skin with his lips. All the while, his hand traveled lower, tracing your ribs and giving your hip a squeeze. Finally, his palm rested against your tummy.

“Gonna put a baby in you,” He half growled, having to close his eyes at the sheer thought of it once again. You felt a shiver run through you, a wave of anticipation that settled in a pool of arousal in your core.

“Yes please, my King. Please,” You whined pathetically. He hadn’t even touched you properly, and you were already a desperate mess beneath him.

His hand dipped lower, fingers brushing your already drenched core. He made a soft, proud noise as two of his thick digits teased between your folds. Your hips bucked towards him, but it did no good.

“Calm down, my love. I have to get you ready.” He dipped his head, catching your nipple between his teeth. You purred when he gave it a tug.

He took his sweet, sweet time on your body. His fingers pulled away from your core, fingertips wet with your desperation for him. He rested his fingers against your lips, and you ever so obediently took them into your mouth.

He pressed his fingertips against your tongue, sliding them deeper into your mouth. You squeezed your eyes shut as they slipped into your throat and back out. You looked up at him, bobbing your head on his fingers and sucked his fingers the same way you would his cock if you were given half a chance.

Once he was satisfied, with the lubrication of his fingers or the show you’d put on you couldn’t be sure, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth. Your spit glistened against his skin as he settled his hand between your thighs.

You squirmed impatiently, finally earning his touch. He slowly circled his spit-slicked fingers around your clit. You mewled beneath him, your head falling back against the pillows. Your reaction only spurred him on. His fingers slipped lower, teasing your entrance.

“Thor, please. Please, I need you.” You whined. A smile lit up his face, and he effortlessly plunged his fingers into you. You gasped, your hand flying to his bicep.

“So wet for me already.” He praised, and you rolled your hips towards him. Of course you were ready for him, he was the only thing your body needed. “So tight.”

His fingers worked you open, pumping into you nice and slow, and scissoring you open for him. His free hand teased over your bare skin. He quirked his fingers up into you, finding the spongy spot on your walls that had you leaking your arousal around his fingers.

“Right there, I’m so close,” You pleaded with him. He didn’t speed up, just watched the way you bucked and writhed at every touch, the way you chased your pleasure.

It was a slow build, waves of tingly warmth spreading through every limb. Your legs were trembling around him, and the coil in your stomach was so tight it was nearly unbearable.

“Thor,” You all but wailed, coming undone to the steady glide of his fingers inside of you, and the quick flick of his thumb on your clit.

The pleasure was still thrumming through you with every beat of your heart as your lover shifted even lower. He pushed your legs wider, settling his upper body between them.

“You smell so sweet for me,” He hummed, nipping at your inner thigh. You huffed. You most certainly didn’t have the patience for that, not when his cock was an option. You tossed your head back and whined from the back of your throat.

“No, please, my king,” You begged, pushing your hands through his hair and giving it a tug. He hummed, almost sound disappointed at the idea of not getting to eat you out for the rest of the night. He ducked his head forward, dragging his tongue through your folds to bump against your clit. You whimpered.

“I guess that can wait.” He smirked and sat back on his heels. You squirmed, propping yourself up and dragging him in to meet your lips.

He kissed you deep. His scent, his weight, his taste; He closed in on you, invaded your senses. You moaned into his mouth, and finally, he pulled away to line his manhood up with your eagerly awaiting core.

When he did sink into you, after what felt like ages, it was agonizing. His hips moved slower than ever, feeding his incredible length into you inch by inch. He was damn near splitting you in half, and you clutched at him like your life depended on it. Once his hips finally were flush against yours, you were convinced he had filled to the brim and then some. You swore you could feel his tip all the way at your cervix.

Your nails dragged down his back, and your legs hooked over his hips, allowing you to grind up against him. A moan caught in your throat at the sheer depth, you never grew accustomed to it.

“Please fuck me,” You whimpered. And with such a desperation in your voice, he had to oblige. He drew out of you almost entirely, staying there until you almost burst into frustrated tears. Then he was sinking back into you.

His thrusts were slow at first, but earth shakingly deep. Every movement he made was pointed, aimed entirely at making you cum around him. Your wet, warm walls clenched around him, sucking him deeper. Skin stuck to skin, and the room echoed with the obscene sound of his hips meeting yours, of your wetness around him.

He pressed his hand down just above your pelvic bone, feeling every movement of his cock inside of you. He groaned, his head lolling forward and his hair falling in a curtain in front of his face.

“Feel that? Gonna plant my seed right in here,” He growled, leaning down to nibble at the sensitive spot on your neck. “Gonna look so beautiful carrying my child.”

You moaned, murmuring needily as he drew you to the edge. The only thing you could comprehend anymore was the way he felt inside you, on top of you, under your fingertips.

“I’m gonna cum,” You squeaked. He slipped his hand down to where you were connected. His fingers slipped through the mess you’d made, dancing over your already sensitive bundle of nerves.

A cry of his name passed your lips like a desperate prayer, and you writhed beneath him. He fucked you through your second orgasm straight into your third. His hips worked expertly into you, your head spinning from the overflowing pleasure. You were grateful when you picked up on the telltale signs of his orgasm. You weren’t sure how much more you could cum.

His thrusts became sloppy, and his grip on your body became bruising in the best way. He hiked one of your thighs up even higher around his waist, and your breath caught. How could he possibly get deeper? You practically purred underneath him, your lips latching onto his neck, nipping at the skin.

“Please, my love. I need you to fill me up.” You begged quietly. That was all it took. He pulled your hips up into his, releasing deep inside you with a harsh grunt.

The both of you stayed where you were, catching your breath and drifting back to reality. His lips met yours again, but this kiss wasn’t fast, it wasn’t hungry. It was just a moment of shared adoration.

He pulled out of you slowly, and a mixture of your release leaking out of you and onto the bed. Neither of you paid it any mind as he settled beside you. You curled up to his chest, your fingers brushing over his bicep. He smiled down at you, and you smiled back up at him.

“This one will take.” He stated with a confidence that only a god could have. “But maybe once more. Just for good measure.”

Tag List: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @vozit // @realgaytrash // @i-love-books-so-fricking-much // @nikkiofasgard // @duvetsandpillows // @creamofweep // @underratedmisfit // @buckmesidewaysandcallmesteve // @call-me-baby-gir1 // @littlegasps // @hi-my-name-is-riley // @hinata7346​ // @mikariell95​

[weareallstoriesintheend]

A writing request: Protective Clyde rescues reader from a guy being a little too handsy at the bar. Makes sure reader gets home safely. Super fluff/protective Clyde. Maybe ends with a 'thank you' kiss on the cheek. Annnddd I'm already crying thinking about you writing this

Safe & Sound (Reader x Clyde Logan) 

Note: For you @ladyinwriting18? Anything! 🥰

Part 1 of the Safe & Sound Series. Here is Part 2 & 3

Warnings: Creepy misogynistic bullshit. But also the fluffiest of fluff!  

Words: 2,407 

Smutty Part 2 - HERE

The smell of whiskey breath ghosting over your face made your stomach turn. You were just trying to have a quiet drink at the ‘Duck Tape’ after a long day at work and all of a sudden you were having your evening ruined by some overbearing guy with half a bottle of dutch courage behind him. “Seriously, I’m okay thank you” you said politely, trying to catch the eye of anyone who could get this guy off you. You were not one to be polite to guys that harass you usually but something about this guy’s overly aggressive lean towards you had put you on edge. All sorts of images and scenarios were flashing through your mind and your heart was starting to hammer in your chest. But just like always, just like you were taught from the time you can walk, you played it off by smiling sweetly and being as polite as possible. Annoyingly you’d chosen to sit in the back corner of the bar tonight so you had nowhere to go but past him. Your dress was high up on your thigh and you tried, subtly, to pull it down.   “Nah, come on sweetheart” he said with a smirk, flicking your long hair off your shoulder dragging his fingers purposely along your skin as he does it “Let me buy you a drink” You went to speak again, hoping to brush him off but the panic in you was rising. The feeling of his skin on yours had triggered something within you, you fidgeted your hands over each other on the bar top to stop them trembling. You looked up at him, mustering up that fake sweet smile again, turning to grab your jacket to leave – figuring this was the only way to get him to leave you alone – before you heard someone else speak.

“I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” you heard the deep drawl before you looked up. Clyde Logan was sidling his way across to where you were sat in the corner, the light of the bar was behind him like an aura. Your lumbering guardian angel. Honestly you’d never paid too much attention to him, he was just… Clyde. He’d been around forever except for when you’d returned from college and found out he was off in Iraq. Clyde was just the big grumpy bartender who made a mean vodka cranberry for you every Friday night; the same grumpy bartender who always slipped in an extra lime because he knew you liked it. You gave him a relieved smile as you caught his eye; he instantly turned his attention back to the guy leaning against you as he piped up once more. “Oh come on Clyde, I was only havin’ a bit of fun” he slurred, giving him a hacking laugh before slipping his hand up your arm and onto your shoulder. You instantly tensed up, skin crawling as you could feel the sweat drip from his forehead on your bare shoulder as he propped himself against you. “Oh I’m sure ya are. But see, I don’t think she finds it very fun do you darlin’?” Clyde said looking at you out the corner of his eye and you shook your head. “Now I’m asking ya to leave cause you’re making my customers uncomfortable. I’m damn sure this woman, nice as she is, doesn’t want your hands all over her now does she?” You shook your head again and the guy looked at you, having the audacity to scoff in offense at your response before turning back to Clyde with a grin. But Clyde kept talking “Her shakin’ her head there? That’s her sayin’ no. Got that? So I’m goin’ to ask you one more time to get off her. Look at her… sweet like a little bird she is, she don’t need your big greasy paws all over her like that” The drunk guy sneered and jostled your shoulders in a jovial way, trying to show Clyde how you were at ease you supposed, and you felt his metal watch strap nick your skin at the back of your neck and you hissed softly at the pain. There was a sudden thud and you looked down; Clyde had grabbed the guy’s free arm that was resting on the bar with his flesh hand. He gave it a sudden tug and the guy gave a high-pitched yelp as he was pulled closer to Clyde and off you. “I said… I’m goin’ to have to ask you to leave” Clyde repeated. You knew sweet, quiet Clyde could have a temper when he needed one; you’d seen him strong-arm a few guys out on their asses a few times over the years. You’d always quietly admired how sturdy and wide his body looked, comfortable and yet solid. So when he did things like that you’d silently sip your drink, pretending you weren’t watching his bicep bulge under his long-sleeved shirt as he grabbed the guy by the scruff of the neck or twist their arm behind their back and haul them out the bar. Another bar patron, an older guy, was walking past this little scene and shot the drunk guy a knowing look before giving his input “Now Billy! Logan here’s got two tours under his belt. Show the guy some respect. Make yourself scarce, come on” Clyde shoo’d this new guy off with a tilt of his head and the guy threw his hands up in surrender before walking away. Billy let out another hacking laugh that made you flinch slightly in your seat, it was full of contempt and far too much confidence for a man in his position “What do you think ya goin’ to do Logan? One arm freak ain’t gunna do nothin’ to me!” “I think you’ll find that I still have my arm, just my forearm and hand that’s missin’. I still got enough to break this arm of yours in three places if you don’t leave this beautiful young lady alone” “Oh I see, Little Logan got a crush” Billy grinned cockily at him, spittle was flying out of his mouth as he slurred and it made you cringe as you saw it landing on Clyde’s dark blue shirt. You started to panic again, you didn’t know what Clyde was going to do next and you shot him a look. You didn’t want him to get himself in trouble for you and after everything that had had happened at the speedway you worried that one little thing would get the cops on

his ass again. He caught your panicked expression and gave you a contemplative pout before turning his head back to Billy. He dragged Billy a little closer so he was bent uncomfortably; you could see his belt cutting deep into his side, pressed into him by the wood of the bar. He was flinching and groaning in Clydes strong grasp, when Clyde spoke he was close to his face and his voice was a low, slow and dangerously calm growl “Now somethin’ tell me this precious, good woman here wants me to spare you the pain I was plannin’ on givin’ ya, kind as she is. So I’m goin’ to let you go but if I ever see you so much as look at her again I’ll show you what two tours in Iraq teaches ya. Got it?” You watched as Billy quickly gathered up his jacket that was hanging haphazardly from the chair he had been sitting on and skitter out the bar like a dog with its tail between its legs. Clyde gave you a pouty but satisfied nod before calmly going back to washing glasses.

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The bar was closing in around an hour so Clyde made you another drink, extra lime as always, to steel your nerves. As he walked around, picking up after people and saying goodnight to the stragglers he kept a close eye on you. Always looking back over his shoulder to where you were sat. You smiled every time he looked at you, several times you thought about getting up to leave for the night but he always caught your eye and something in his look made you sip your drink a little slower. Maybe you should stick around.

“He didn’t hurt you or nothing did he?” Clyde said in a low voice so the last people that were leaving couldn’t hear him. Part of you wondered if he was embarrassed to be helping you but then you realised, as he turned his body to literally shield you from the gaze of the rest of the patrons in the bar, he was protecting your privacy. “No Clyde, I’m fine thank you” you smiled, brushing your dress down awkwardly trying to ease the tension. Clyde was a man of few words usually but he made up for it in the intensity of his stare and right now that stare was focussed purely on you. His eyes roamed over you and it made a heat rise up on the back of your neck. He made a grunting noise, almost to himself, and he leaned over the bar to fetch a napkin. He turned the tap on that was over the small bar sink and dipped the napkin under the running water. You gave him a look, raising your eyebrow in question and he nodded to you shoulder. You looked down and noticed a small trail of dried blood running down your shoulder from where the guy had cut you with his watch. “Can I touch ya? Is that okay?” he asked, eyes soft and concerned as he studied you. You nodded shyly and he leant forward and wiped the napkin over your skin gently. You watched his hand carefully, the huge size of it compared to your arm making you bite back a giggle. The cold of his horseshoe ring brushing lightly against your skin made you break into goosebumps. He dabbed and patted to make sure he got it all wiped away “There ya go, all cleaned up” He gave your arm a stroke with his thick knuckles, like he was doubly making sure you were all squared away. Clyde Logan didn’t smile very much, you always thought his signature grumpy pout was actually quite endearing, but in this moment as you gazed up at him he gave you the smallest, most tender smile and you couldn’t help but grin back at him. “You don’t have to take care of me you know?” you whispered, he shook his head as he hopped up on the bar and swung himself back over. “Well of course I do, pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to deal with assholes like that!” You gave him a small push to his chest that barely moved him “You stop that!” you laughed, he chuckled as you dipped your head down, letting your hair hide the growing blush on your cheeks. “I only speak the truth darlin’” he said turning to wander over to the cash register “Give me 2 minutes to check todays takins’ and I’ll drive ya home” You scoffed and dropped off your high bar stool onto your feet “You really don’t need to do that, I’m sure that guy is long gone” “Well I can’t just let ya go home on your on now can I? What kind of gentleman would I be if I did that?” he said, you swear you saw him smirk to himself and he pushed his hip into the cash register to close it. He turned to you, swinging his jacket off the hook on the wall and around his shoulders. “Oh Clyde, you’re sweet but I’ll be okay” You stepped forward as you spoke and helped him pull his jacket over his prosthetic arm “Really! I don’t live too far, you know that! It’s only a mile round the corner I can walk it” You flushed at his forwardness and unexpected level of care he was showing you. The heat was rising up on the fact of your neck again and you couldn’t quite decide if it was embarrassment or something a little more intimate. “Nonsense, I won’t hear another word on the matter” he shot you another smile; you quite liked this more relaxed Clyde. There was something about that shy smile that made you accept his offer with a small nod. “Perfect. Let me grab my keys and I’ll drive ya”

------------------------------------------------------

You hopped down out of his truck as he opened the passenger door for you, which he had insisted on doing; he’d even held out his prosthetic arm for you to use to steady yourself as you dropped unsteadily onto your driveway. You’d thanked him quietly and he’d responded “Nothing but the best for the princess” making you giggle and elbow his side jokingly. You both wandered down the driveway in comfortable silence, nothing but crickets and the crunch of gravel beneath both your shoes.

“Safe and sound now aren’t ya” he said, tapping your front door absentmindedly with his knuckle, watching you wrestle your keys out of your bag. You chuckled and nodded, before you could give yourself a second to overthink it you pitched up on your tip toes, pulling him down slightly with your a small hand on his wide shoulder, and placed a timid kiss to his cheek. “Thank you Clyde” you whispered. You giggled slightly as a noticeable pink blush bloomed across his cheeks and he shook his head and stuttered “N-no thanks necessary sweetheart”

You put your key in the lock and he turned to leave with a courteous nod goodnight. As you pushed open the door breathing out a tightly held in sigh, suddenly thankful to be in the comfort of your own home, you heard him say your name. You spun to see him a few feet away from you, rocking on his heels slightly “Come by the bar tomorrow night? I’ll make you another one of those cranberry drinks you like and…I’d errr… I’d love to see ya”

Now it was your turn to blush, you hoped he couldn’t see it in the shadow of your doorway

“I’d love too. See you then” you replied, giving him a small wave before going inside.

Maybe you should have paid more attention to the big grumpy bear behind the bar because it turns out, he’s rather sweet.

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x reader - Part Four (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

I think the previous parts have had a female reader, but I left it ambiguous/gender neutral in this one, even in the nsfw bits, mostly out of habit.

It's 8000 words, with a bit of angst, a good dose of fluff, some recognition of unhealthy attitudes, and a slightly messy nsfw scene at the end...

Hope you enjoy!

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Gilvas waited until you’d closed the matching panel at the other end of the secret passage, and then turned away.

While you worked on the catalogue, you couldn’t shake the vulnerable look on his face as he’d told you about his late wife and as you’d stared at her vivacious features in the portrait. In the nine years since her death, he’d become a shadow, haunting this creepy old mansion and drifting from one day to the next, and it broke your heart. Gilvas was clearly a gentle soul, though his fuse was short at times, but you had begun to suspect that it was more of a defence mechanism than a character trait.

As evening billowed around the stone walls of the enormous house at the end of the day, with an awful lot still swirling around your mind, you nearly walked straight into Naril who was loading his last pile of autumn leaves into a wheelbarrow by the back door. He called your name just in time and you sidestepped with a bashful grin.

“So is it true?” he asked almost immediately.

“Is what true?”

His ears waggled and he laughed as he dumped the leaves into the barrow with a little flourish. “You and the master…?”

“Me and the master what?” you snorted, crossing your arms. “You make it sound like we’re school kids caught snogging behind the bike sheds! He showed me the portrait of his wife and told me a bit about her, that’s all.”

Naril shook his head expressively. “We’ve had people here on the estate before, you know? None of them ended up strolling the corridors with him.”

“How’d you know about it anyway?” you asked instead, resisting the urge to flick him in fond reprimand on his large ear.

“Chiara came in and started talking to my dad about it. I couldn’t believe it, and neither could they. The master doesn’t ‘chat’ with anyone…”

You shrugged. “Well, if he’s happy talking to me, I’m happy enough to listen. He seems nice, once you get past the way he likes to bark at you.”

Two days later, while you were stooped over the working version of the catalogue, scribbling something down in the margins of your cataloguing notes, the shadows moved in the recesses of the library, and Gilvas emerged. You looked up and smiled. “Hi,” you offered.

He nodded curtly at you and began to pace.

Setting your pencil down a minute or two later, you asked, “Everything… alright?”

Gilvas turned, apparently on the point of snapping something acerbic and defensive at you, but he caught himself in time and paused, throat working. The dark red birthmark on his neck moved and shifted like ink in water. If asked, you’d have said he was nervous. “I… I was wondering if you would take tea with me on the terrace today.”

You froze. Of all the things you’d been expecting from him, that had not been it. “Uh…” you began artlessly.

“Or not. You don’t have to,” he blurted, turning away. “Stupid idea anyway.”

“Wait,” you laughed, relief washing through you. “Wait. I’d love to. I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

If you’d been surprised, it was nothing to the expression on Chiara’s face when he summoned her to the library with a little bell pull that you’d not spotted before.

“You… You want to take tea… You want to take tea outside…?” the harpy repeated, looking unsteady on her clawed feet.

As if he’d just realised how unusual it was, his expression went blank, his four ruby eyes going dull, and he seemed to deflate. Gone was the intimidating, sharp-edged lord of the manor, and in his place you saw a vulnerable, shattered widower, with no one to talk to and rusty social skills.

Reading her master well enough, Chiara schooled her features into something resembling their usual sternness, and she nodded. “Of course. I will have it set up for you and…” she looked at you with her golden eyes and you tried not to shrink away. “For the both of you.”

“Thank you,” you said, and she nodded, departing.

“I think I gave her quite the shock,” he muttered, half smirking.

With a snort, you said, “We’re just going to have to find more ways to surprise them.”

“Them?”

“Your staff,” you said. “It’s clear that they all respect you, and they enjoy working here - well, obviously I can’t speak for all of them, but I have supper with Mr. Ambleside and his son almost every night. I don’t get the impression that they’d object to seeing a bit more of their mysterious master from time to time.”

“It’s been so long,” he croaked. “I… I’ve hidden myself away up here. I… I don’t remember — I mean…” he broke off and you noticed how glassy his eyes were.

Cautiously, you approached him and laid your hand on his foremost right leg. It was smooth like glass, and cold. It felt extremely brittle, though you knew the chitin was pretty tough. Your eyes nearly drifted to the empty stump on his right side though, and you suppressed a shiver. It wasn’t that tough. He shuddered and you nearly retracted your touch. “Sounds like you could use a friend to take tea with every now and again…” you said gently.

“I’d like that,” he said. “If… If you could bear it.”

“Bear it?” you repeated. “Please. I wouldn’t have accepted if it wasn’t something I didn’t already want to do.”

Gilvas fixed you with a piercing red gaze, making the blood-dark streak of his hair and the swirling birthmark stand out in vivid detail. “No,” he mused slowly, his legs and spider body relaxing a little into your touch like a great machine coming to rest. “I don’t suppose you would.”

Tea on the terrace became a daily fixture, weather permitting, and on the first day it was rained off, he asked you into a small drawing room on the ground floor that you’d never been in before.

Four and a half months into your stay, he leaned over the table and poured you another cup with shaking hands. He always shook, you realised, though the tremors worsened when he grew agitated or emotional. If Naril was right, he was about ten years older than you, and while at times he seemed youthful and almost playful when you got him talking about one of his interests - mathematics was a particular favourite of his - there were times when he seemed stiff and tired, and much, much older than you; and older than he truly was. He carried the weight of his grief around with him everywhere, dragging at him like chains, rattling in the quiet corridors of his mind and reminding him of his heartache. He never went too long with a smile on his face, the expression often shattering or sliding off his face to leave a brittle mask behind.

“Gilvas?” you asked as he set the teapot down on the tray with a rattle. “Everything alright?”

“You’re too perceptive by half,” he grumbled. “I wanted to ask you to dine with me tonight.”

“Oh,” you breathed, taken off-guard.

“You sound disappointed,” he said a slight huff to his tone.

Conflicted, you said, “It’s Naril’s birthday. He’s celebrating with the rest of the staff and some of his friends tonight, and he asked me to join him…”

“Then you must go, obviously,” he said. After a pause he added, “Naril is the one who tends to the gardens, is he not?”

“Mmm. He’s a firbolg.”

“My father always hired firbolgs for their way with nature. I’d forgotten that Ambleside has a child. How old is he?”

“About my age, I suppose?”

Whether or not he was aware of it, Gilvas’ face shuttered at that. With a sigh, he shifted his already vague gaze to the huge patio windows beside you and stared out at the gardens beyond. It had been raining earlier, but it had cleared up now to leave broad puddles flashing in the sunlight on the terrace. “I think I will go for a walk through the gardens this evening before sunset…”

“You want some company?” you asked, but he shook his head.

“No. Thank you.”

Naril’s party was just rowdy enough to be fun without straying too far into unruliness, and you stayed up late in the kitchens, laughing and joking with him and his father, who, it turned out, had quite the sense of humour with a few glasses of wine in him. Eloise, the maid, also joined you, and a few friends of Naril’s who lived in Starfall Springs. The laughter continued long into the night, until his friends from town announced that it was time to head back just shy of one in the morning.

Waving them off at the end of the night, still buzzing with the unusually vibrant evening, you and Naril turned from the upper gates and walked back to the house. In the dark, the firbolg could see much better than you, so he let you loop your arm amicably through his to stop yourself stumbling on the uneven driveway.

Just as you stepped back into the kitchen, he cracked a good-natured joke at your expense, recalling a moment from earlier in the evening, and you nearly fell about laughing. “Oh my gods,” you wheezed as you clung to his arm to stop yourself tripping up the step. “You’re never going to let that go, are you?”

“Nope,” he said, popping the plosive consonant with a chuckle. “You’re far too easy to tease. I —” he cut off suddenly, expression falling. His eyes were wide and he was staring at a point on the far side of the kitchen.

You looked up and found the hulking shape of a drider standing silhouetted in the dark doorway. “Forgive me,” Gilvas said stiffly, jaw working. “I came for a brandy. I thought you’d all turned in for the night.”

You blurted, “Gilvas?” at the same time as Naril whispered, “My lord?”

“Forget it,” he said, turning abruptly in the wide doorway. “I hope you enjoyed your evening together.”

Even after the door slammed behind him - the gesture leaving a sour taste in your mouth - neither you nor Naril spoke.

Finally it was Naril who broke the silence. “I’ve never seen him before…” he murmured, awestruck at the encounter. “He looks dreadful. Perhaps he is sick after all?”

“He doesn’t look as dreadful as he looked three months ago,” Chiara’s unexpected voice said tartly from the pantry to your left where she’d apparently been occupied, stowing away the remnants of the uneaten food.

You swallowed. “Well… I… uh… I guess I’d better head back. Thanks for tonight,” you said, hugging Naril briefly. “Happy birthday. I’m sorry I didn’t have anything to give you… It’s not as if I can go into town or anything from here…”

“Couldn’t you ask your friend to pick you up,” he said. “You know, the one you phone every Friday?”

Despite having phoned Damien every week since arriving, you’d never even thought of asking him to drive all the way out here and pick you up for the weekend. He’d probably do it though if you asked. “I guess I could…”

The idea took root in your mind, and as you took your break the next day, you used the house’s landline to call Damien’s shop since he’d be at work too.

“Hey!” he chuckled. “You don’t normally phone today. How’s things at the Spookville Court?”

“Don't call it that,” you scoffed. “It’s fine. Listen, I haven’t got long, but I was wondering if maybe you’d be free this weekend…? I know it’s not exactly a short drive, but I’d kind of like to get out of here for the weekend…”

There was a pause while he checked his calendar. “Sure,” he said. “I can pick you up on Friday night if you like?”

“You don't have plans?”

“I was gonna grab a beer with Sarrigan since he’s in town,” he admitted, “But maybe if you can get away early, we could go together?”

“I don’t see why I couldn’t…” you said. No one was monitoring your hours after all, and it wasn’t as if you hadn’t made huge inroads into the project already.

You grinned and practically flung yourself at him when Damien’s truck drew up outside your cottage on the far side of the courtyard. The wide expanse of gravel sat on the side of the house with the servants’ entrance, and was overlooked by the back of the mansion.

“I missed you!” you laughed, letting the colossal orc spin you easily in a circle. “You still smell like chocolate,” you said as his immensely long, black plait caught you in the face.

“Just proves I’m sweet,” he joked, and you groaned, smacking him in the chest with the back of your hand as he set you down.

“That was a bad pun, even for you.”

“You ready?” he asked.

“You don’t want to stretch your legs first? You’ve literally just got here.” He shook his head, but did nip inside your apartment for a drink of water and a bathroom break. While he was gone, you leaned against his truck and looked up at the trees above you. The height of summer was fading to the bronze of autumn now, and a few coppery leaves rained down around you like confetti, spiralling through the air that promised a change of season soon.

“Ready?” he asked, swinging your overnight bag easily into the truck and helping you up the enormous step into the cab.

As you drove away, you glanced up at the house and caught the glint of sun on a window as it closed on one of the upper storeys, but you soon forgot about the house as Damien began to regale you with stories of your friends’ antics.

With Widowsweb Court in the rear view mirror, you sighed and settled into the comfy seat, letting Damien talk as the house dwindled to nothing behind you. It felt good to be away from the limited confines of the estate, but as you looked forward to a weekend in Starfall Springs with your friends, something nagged at the back of your mind, like a caught thread pulling in the sleeve of a favourite sweater…

Your whole weekend in Starfall Springs was like the first breath of fresh garden air after a day spent in the dusty library of Widowsweb Court.

Damien had taken you to the Inglenook Inn that first night, where he, Sarrigan, their respective partners, plus a mothman named Merritt whom you’d met a few times before, and a couple of your other friends were gathered, and the lot of you talked late into the night. There were a lot of questions about Widowsweb Court, but you mostly focused on the work and describing the house and gardens to them. Somehow it felt disrespectful - an invasion of his privacy - to talk about Gilvas much.

As you left the pub to walk back to your modest apartment at the north end of the town, Sarrigan caught up with you. As he scuttled up to you, you were struck suddenly by the difference between him and Gilvas. Sarrigan Silkfoot’s silver-banded fur rippled in the moonlight, ruffled by the night breezes, where Gilvas’ spider body was black, hard, and shiny as black lacquer, and where Gilvas’ legs moved like articulated, curved daggers, Sarrigan’s were chunky and muscular and unbelievably fuzzy, ending in a little hooked and almost dainty talon. Gilvas’ legs ended in wicked points, sharp and slender as paring knives, and his fangs probably carried a deadly venom, where Sarrigan’s smile held only jollity. Gilvas also had no mandibles, where Sarrigan’s hardware clicked and chittered with his emotions.

“Listen,” he said as he fell into a near-silent step beside you. “I know you’ve not got any reception up there at Widowsweb, so I haven’t been able to get in touch by text or whatever, but I just wanted to ask you - away from the others - how it’s going. With my family’s history with theirs, I did some digging into the Widowsweb estate and the family…”

“You did?” You weren’t sure whether to be offended or curious, but in the end, the latter won out. “What did you find?”

“Just tragedy. Lately anyway. Earlier generations seem to have done ok, but… you should look him up.”

“Who, Gilvas?”

He nodded.

“You mean the fire?”

Again, he nodded, shuffling nervously. “The police think he started it, but they could never prove it.”

You scowled, horrified and hurt. “Sarrigan, I’ve met him. He doesn't seem like the type to murder his family - and his unhatched children too?” You shook your head, appalled, stomach roiling. “He’s devastated… rarely talks about them, and when he does… he’s close to tears. I think he lost a leg in the fire too.”

Sarrigan’s handsome face remained harsh and he clicked his mandibles pensively. Finally, he sighed. “Just… be careful, ok? The articles I found all said he had a nasty temper, and that since his wife’s death, he fired all the staff and turned into some kind of recluse…”

“They’ve got the last bit right,” you said, “But not the first.” He did have a short fuse though. “Thanks for looking out for me, Sarrigan, but I’m not worried.”

He nodded once. “I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

You shook your head and parted from him with a warm hug. “I appreciate it, but trust me… Gilvas isn’t some cruel, violent lunatic. He’s an isolated widower who’s never learned how to move past his grief.”

To your relief, Sarrigan seemed to take you at your word, and left you at your door looking happier for having aired his anxieties, and in turn having had them laid to rest.

The remainder of your weekend passed without incident, but you couldn’t get Sarrigan’s words out of your head. If he’d been painted by the press at the time as some kind of violent monster, it was no wonder that Gilvas had hidden himself away on his estate and never spoke to anyone.

On the Sunday of your weekend away, you met up with a few friends at Damien’s cafe for breakfast, and spent the better part of the day while the sun was out browsing the marketplace. As you passed a carpenter’s stall, your eye was drawn by a number of carved, wooden puzzle boxes. The satyr who had made them was demonstrating how one of them worked to a small crowed of fascinated onlookers, and when he finished, finally sliding the last section of wood free, the lid sprang open to reveal the empty chamber inside, and everyone applauded.

Fascinated, you realised what a tactile thing the boxes were, and suddenly thought of Gilvas. With his reduced sight, he relied a lot on his sense of touch. On a whim, you bought one and had it wrapped neatly in brown paper by the satyr. Thanking him, you headed home and packed up, bringing with you a few new clothes and a few more things to occupy your evenings.

Bouncing back up the driveway in Damien’s truck that evening, you couldn’t miss the looks the orc tossed you sidelong, and as you drew to a halt in the courtyard again, he stayed put in his seat and asked, “Are you really alright here? It’s so remote…”

“It’s fine,” you said. “I love the work, and the people are kind. I promise I’ll ring you the moment I’m unhappy, but for now, I’m honestly loving it. I’ve never had a better or more fulfilling job, Damien. I can’t believe I’ve got so little time left really…” You paused and sighed. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

He bowed his head and backed off, though not without pulling you half into his lap for a bone-crushing hug first. “Take care, OK?” he grunted before releasing you.

“You sure you won’t stay for some supper?” you asked as you slithered out of your side of the cab and landed on the gravel. “I bet you’d love Naril.”

“I can’t,” he said with a regretful grimace. “I need to get back to prep the shop for next week. Another time?”

You nodded. “Drive safely.”

For the entire week following your return to Widowsweb Court, you didn’t see even the slightest glimpse of Gilvas.

There was no trace of his having been in the library at all, and the secret panel at the rear of the room stayed firmly shut. You didn’t think it was your place to go wandering the corridors again, and although you continued to take a mug of tea out onto the terrace every afternoon, it was hardly the spread of High Tea that you had shared with him every day for months. The whole place seemed empty without his presence now, reminding you of your very first week there, when every shadow and doorway had loomed ominously large before you.

Finally, at the end of the week, you ran in to Chiara on your way back down and you paused to let her past with an armful of linen. “Chiara, is… is Gilvas around? Is he alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and tutted softly at you. “None of your concern,” she snipped at you before bustling off.

You stood there, mute and surprised.

It definitely didn’t sound like he was alright, but what were you to him, really? You thought of the box stowed away in your room, waiting for the right time to be brought out and given to him, and suddenly felt foolish. You’d known him for a matter of months. He was a lord, with land and a title; he had a whole household full of things already, and you were just there to reorganise his library. He’d probably already forgotten about you.

You worked solidly through the morning again the next day, but didn’t feel hungry enough to go down to lunch. You continued on through the day, pausing only to sip from your water bottle before heading back up the ladders time and time again with armfuls of books. It was exhausting. There was no trace of the webbing he’d used to catch you, and since there was also no sign of him, you made sure to take extra care going up and down.

With a sigh you finally set down the last of the hagiographies at eight o’clock that night, and put your hands to the small of your back, grunting. Dusty, tired, stiff, and still oddly demoralised, you thought you heard the creak of a door from the back of the library, but you’d barely dared to hope before the main doors opened and Naril stumped in, looking terribly out of place and awkward in his gardening overalls. He had mud on his trousers, but his boots had been scraped clean.

He sighed your name in obvious relief when he spotted you. “You ok?” he asked.

“Fine, why?” you frowned as you turned to face him, still with your palms pressed to the small of your back.

“You didn’t come to lunch, and you missed supper as well. I was worried about you.”

You smiled and dropped your hands to your sides. “I’m fine. I just… haven’t felt like myself lately. Thank you though.”

An awkward silence hung between you, and he scratched the back of his head. “Right. Well, there’s… uh… stuff in the larder and fridge if… if you get hungry. I just wanted to make sure you hadn’t been crushed by a ton of books or something.”

With a chuckle, you said, “This isn’t The Mummy you know? People do actually secure their bookshelves…”

He laughed briefly and headed for the doors again. “Seriously though… Are you sure you’re ok?” he asked, ears waggling.

“I’ve… I’ve got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“Ok,” he said, green eyes wide and glassy. “Well, you can always talk to me. What are friends for, right?”

“Right. Thank you, Naril.”

He nodded, and left.

In the silent stillness of the library, you sank with a heavy sigh into one of the nearby chairs and let your palm cradle your chin, with your elbow planted on the wood of the table. When had this place started to feel so sad again? It was as if the gloom was seeping back into the fabric of the place like a sponge soaking up ink.  

About a minute later, a familiar movement caught your attention and you looked up to find Gilvas standing beside a bookshelf. He was tilting his head in that way that meant he couldn’t see you in the dim light, but he knew you were still there.

“I’m here,” you said quietly, hardly daring to move in case he scuttled away.

Locking onto your voice, he moved with expert familiarity round the library and came to a halt near your table. The only light now came from a lamp one shelf over. “I… I overheard…” he began stiffly. His red gaze sailed right over your head, so it was clear that he couldn’t see you, even this close up. “Is… I mean… Are you alright?”

“Could ask the same of you,” you said wryly, eyeing the dark shadows under his eyes and the tightness around his mouth. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” He looked dreadful again, as if he’d hardly eaten anything in the interim.

“Been better, I suppose,” he said. “The firbolg said you haven’t eaten today… is that right?”

“Mmm.”

“Should we raid the kitchen together?”

You smiled. “You haven’t eaten either I take it…”

He shook his head.

Standing, you swayed as a head rush washed over you and you let out a tiny grunt of surprise, grabbing the back of the chair.

With a scowl, he stepped closer. “Alright?” He steadied you, his hand finding your waist and lingering there.

“I missed you,” you breathed unthinkingly as you stared up at him.

Gilvas froze and then let out a rough exhale, withdrawing a few paces. “You did?”

“Mmm. I have something for you too, from Starfall, but it’s back in my room. I… I’d started to think I wasn’t going to see you again…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingers curling briefly into fists at his side. “I… I rather let the melancholy take over again.”

“Why?” you asked, stepping closer to him. His ear followed you and he narrowed his eyes. You got the impression that you’d just stepped into his limited field of vision and he could now make out your silhouette in the shadowy library.

The lord of Widowsweb Court gave a bitter, brittle laugh and turned away, legs moving in sequence like a windup toy. “I think I misled myself,” he said eventually.

Your brows knitted and you closed the distance between you, laying your hand boldly on his cool, obsidian foreleg again. As before, he shivered, but he didn't pull away. “What do you mean?”

“I suppose I got carried away - this past month in particular,” he said in his rough baritone.

“I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t,” he said, that cut-glass edge returning to his voice. “You don’t know what it was like before you came here; before you —” he stopped himself but then took a breath and continued in barely a whisper, the consonants softly articulated. You had to lean in closer to hear him. “Before you brought the light back to this place.” His voice cracked as he added, “And you took it with you.”

“Gilvas…” you gasped, shocked by his tone.

“I know,” he growled. “It’s inappropriate of me, and melodramatic. You were only gone for two days. But it’s the truth. I got so swept up in spending time with someone again — in… in enjoying myself — that I somehow forgot that you have a whole life outside of our brief interactions here, beyond these walls…”

“Naril's birthday…” you breathed and he nodded. He’d stumbled upon you and Naril sharing a laugh and a close touch at his birthday and had assumed from the physical closeness that there was something more than friendship between you. That had been the last time you’d seen him.

Then he shook his head in disgust and sneered self-deprecatingly, “It’s as though I became a teenager again - spoilt and sour and… everything I loathe about myself.”

He backed away out of your grip until his huge carapace nudged against the shelf behind him and he went still again. Trapped between you and the books, he breathed heavily for a moment through his aquiline nose. Your heart was beating in your throat but you kept quiet.

“I have a nasty, possessive side,” he said, scowling. “I’d almost forgotten about it, but as — I hesitate to call it a friendship… I’m not sure what we had between us — but whatever it was grew, I came to think of you as… mine. And then I saw you laughing with him and… I remembered that you’re not mine at all. I have no right to make those kinds of disgusting demands or claims. You’re not mine — you’re not anyone’s but your own person. I forgot myself, and I hated myself for it.”

He was jealous.

Gilvas was jealous that you’d been laughing with Naril that night. Despite the anguish on his face, you had to smile. When he heard you chuckle softly, he growled at you again, deep and rich and animalistic. Defensive. That was all it was; defensive bluster.

“It’s true that Naril has come to be my friend here,” you said, moving carefully closer to him now that he couldn’t back away any more. “But I thought about you all weekend while I was away. I couldn’t get you out of my head. When my friend Sarrigan —”

“— Silkfoot?” he interrupted with a sneer. “‘Sarrigan’ is an old Silkfoot name…”

“Yes. Sarrigan Silkfoot is a friend of mine,” you said carefully, noting the lingering displeasure in his features. “He’s currently dating a human, and my best friend, Damien, is also very much in love with a human. If you’re worried about what previous generations of Silkfoots thought about relationships between species, you needn’t worry. The current heir to the family - Sarrigan’s older brother - has even recently married a human. Things have moved on since the founding of Widowsweb…”

His chest heaved and he sank lower so that his pendulous spider’s body was only a few inches above the ground, and his torso and head were almost on a level with yours. “I’ve hidden myself away too long,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

Taking a final step over to him, you stood in the space between his deadly front legs. It felt suddenly intimate in the extreme, and you reached your palm out and laid it on his chest. He flinched, but let you talk.

“Sarrigan told me a bit more about the papers said… about the circumstances of the fire… about what people believed at the time…” you said carefully, and Gilvas’ face darkened dangerously. “But I got to know you before I’d heard that, and I can’t believe you would have started it. I can’t believe anyone thought that of you.” You placed your left palm to mirror your right and felt the way his chest heaved with emotion as he listened. “You’re a good person, Gilvas. I told my friends that, and they believed me. And I think you’ve suffered alone for long enough.”

Gilvas’ expression shattered and he leaned forwards and drew you into his arms. “I don't want you to leave…” he whispered into your hair as he held you close. He smelled like books and sandalwood, warm and comforting, and you let your arms snake around his waist.

“I don't have anything else lined up for after I finish here,” you said without letting go. He was gently inhaling the scent of you, you realised, and you let him hold you, drawing comfort from the warmth of your body. “And I told you there’s a lifetime’s worth of work to do on this library…”

“I could renew your contract,” he said. “Or… Or you could… No. I don't want you to feel… obliged…” he said, swallowing thickly and drawing sharply back from your embrace as if you’d burned him. “If I’m paying you —” his face buckled into a sour grimace and he lurched slightly further away from you. “I don’t want to pay you to stay here…” he spat as if the idea thoroughly disgusted him.

You laughed. “I own my apartment in Starfall. I could rent it out for some income, and come and live here with you. That way… there’s no imbalance…”

“Yes,” he nodded breathlessly, hardly daring to believe what he was hearing. “Yes, that’s… that’s good. And if you still have your apartment, you can… I mean… there will be somewhere for you… if… if you decide…”

“Stop,” you said. “Don’t push me away again.”

The drider took a huge inhale and nodded. Then he licked his lips nervously and said, “You know, we were going to raid the kitchen before we went down this path. You shouldn’t make any rash decisions on an empty stomach.”

“An excellent point,” you said with mock seriousness. “Let’s go.”

Over a rather strange and cobbled-together supper of leftovers scrounged from the pantry, eaten at the scrubbed wooden table in the kitchen, Gilvas stayed almost completely silent. At first, you thought he was just concentrating on eating, being particularly careful about his movements since he didn’t see as clearly as you did, but after a while, you discovered the crinkle in his brow and noticed the tremor in his fingers again.

“Wait here,” you said, pushing back from the table and touching the back of his hand briefly. He was always so cold.

“Where are you going?” he barked, tense.

With a giggle, you said, “Trust me. I’ll be right back.”

And with that, you vanished out of the back door and scuttled over the gravel to the little apartment above the old stable block where you’d been staying for the past few months. Minutes later, you returned to find him exactly where you’d left him, scowling at his food.

He looked up sharply as you reentered, and you watched his shoulders drop with relief a split second later when he figured out that it was you.

“Here,” you said, holding out the brown paper parcel to him, touching it to the back of his fingers in case he couldn’t see it.

In moments, it was obvious to you that he couldn’t, because his fingertips trailed along the edges, looking for a way into the parcel. “What is it?” he asked warily, shifting his head from side to side.

“You’ll find out. I saw them being made in the marketplace, and I think with your sense of touch you’ll probably have an advantage over someone with sharper vision…”

At that, his frown deepened, though not from discomfort. He was openly curious now, and he got to work on the wrappings, abandoning them to one side. “A box?” he murmured when he’d run his fingers all the way around it. Watching him, you suddenly felt a thrum of desire go right through you. You wanted him to do that to your body, to explore you by touch, and you barely bit back a moan as the force of it swept through you.

He paused and turned his face towards you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you croaked. “It’s a puzzle box. It’s all inlaid with different types of wood, and there are a few panels and sections that you have to slide in the right order to open it.”

At that, his face cracked into a gorgeous, open, delighted grin and your heart slipped sideways in your chest at the youthfulness it lent to his features. “I used to love these as a child,” he said. “Thank you.”

He moved then, obviously not having been sitting on a chair like you, and found his way faultlessly around the kitchen to where you were seated opposite him. The little inlaid box lay to one side on the table while he took your hands in his and squeezed your knuckles fondly, earnestly.

“Thank you,” he rasped again.

You raised your chin and he let go of you with his right hand and brought it up to cup your left cheek in his cool palm. His thumb traced an arc across your skin and you shivered, exhaling and breathing hard. “Gilvas…” you whispered, want burning inside you inside you like a flare. You didn’t want to push him or rush him, but if he didn’t kiss you in the next three seconds, you thought you might just wither up and die on the spot.

Mercifully, he leaned down, tilting your chin upwards to meet his lips. His kiss was soft, his lips cool and hesitant, but the moment you let a little moan of pleasure escape you, he deepened the kiss. His long fingers scrunched in your hair and he closed his red eyes with a flutter of long lashes. His two forelegs rose up slightly for balance as his body rocked downwards and he pulled back with a gasp, chest heaving again. “I want you,” he whispered hoarsely, looking suddenly shy.

You grinned and stood. “I want you too…”

Gilvas led you through the house, pausing with endearing frequency to kiss you breathless against almost every spare surface that wasn’t covered by paintings or suits of armour or priceless vases on precarious pedestals, and finally he backed you up against the double doors to a bedroom on the fourth floor, and picked you up so that you had to latch your legs around his waist at the point where his humanoid torso met his spider’s body. You ground yourself against him as he kissed you over and over, his long hair falling around your face in a black and red curtain.

With one foreleg, he delicately pushed the handle down and nudged the doors open. Still holding you, he drew your top off over your head, discarding it to one side as he carried you across the room and deposited you onto a massive bed. It bounced and flexed beneath you, and as you looked around you discovered that it was not a bed, but a thick and intricately woven web slung between the two perpendicular walls of the far corner of the room. You leaned back into it, feeling the soft silken strands flex slightly beneath you, and looked up to see Gilvas’ silhouette in the darkness of the room.

The moon shone through an open window to your right, painting fine silver highlights to the gleaming lacquer of his carapace and needle-like legs, and in the moonlight, you saw that he was dripping webbing onto the floor from the gland at the tip of his spider’s abdomen. You knew enough about driders to know that when they got really aroused, they often leaked webbing like this. Male driders did not mate the way many other beings did, but that didn't put you off. You wanted him - his pleasure, his ecstasy, his noises, his joy…

It did make him suddenly nervous though, as if he’d only just realised that you might be expecting him to penetrate you, and with his anatomy, he couldn’t.

“Gilvas?” you asked, reaching up for him where he still loomed hesitantly above you. “Come here… let me take care of you…”

“I…” he began, but he let you draw him down onto the soft, smooth webbing. His legs ended in those dazzlingly sharp points, and he seemed to dance across the webs like a circus performer on a high wire. He lowered himself down atop you and you kissed him again. His hands skated over your hips and he drew the rest of your clothes off to abandon them beside his bed.

Seeking friction, he carefully slid his slick abdomen against your legs and shivered, moaning. “You’re so warm,” he whispered, head bowing forwards as he rested on his elbows, one on either side of your body. “I can’t believe how warm you are… it’s… it…”

“Does it feel good?” you asked, raking your fingers through his long hair and he nodded wordlessly. “Can you roll over?” you asked.

“Oh gods,” he gasped, clearly aroused by the idea, and nodded.

It wasn’t the most elegant manoeuvres, but once he was on his back with his legs curled upwards like a black, clawed hand, you sat in the gap where his one missing leg should have been, and ran your hand over the smoothness of his underbelly. In no time you discovered the slit in his lower body that was leaking slick, pearlescent fluid all over himself.

“Oh!” he yelled, spine curling and legs twitching as you traced your fingertips around the softer inner walls of the slit. Where the rest of his body was cool and hard, there he was almost searingly hot, the inner walls silky and slick. “Oh gods, oh gods… oh gods…” he chanted in time with your motions, his whole body twitching and making the webbing rock beneath him.

The tendons of his neck stood out in glorious contrast beneath the watercolour birthmark as he clenched his jaw and rammed his eyes shut, lost in the sensations. His fingers scrabbled at the web of his bed and he rocked and shivered and arched into your touch as you worked him closer and closer. You knew he was going to make a mess when he came, and you felt your whole body flush hot at the thought of finally getting him to let go of all his tight control and insecurities, to give himself over to the simple, honest pleasure you were offering to give him.

The thought of that was almost enough to make you come yourself, but you focused on him until he growled softly.

“I want…” he began but cut off as you grazed a spot inside him unexpectedly with a fingertip that made him bellow wordlessly. “Fuck…” he hissed when he’d recovered, head lolling back again, and you grinned at the curse on his aristocratic tongue. “Wait…” he panted. “I want… I want to touch you… before I… before you make me…” he growled again in frustration. “I’ll only be able to… to… come once… please… let me…” Hearing him lose control of his words like that in the face of his arousal only made it all the more endearing.

“You can touch me,” you said coyly without changing anything, but when he genuinely snarled, sounding more like a werewolf than a drider, you laughed and leaned closer to him.

His cool fingers dug into your arms as he tugged you tight against his body, pulling you down to lie atop him along the length of his belly and humanoid stomach, and you ground yourself against him for a little relief. His hand slid down your body, down your side, and before you could think, he was pleasuring you. “Let me,” he hissed when you tensed a little, revealing his venomous fangs as a flash of white in the dimness when you tried to pull back to finish him.

“But I wanted to make you come,” you pouted, and he actually laughed at that, four red eyes closing and crinkling softly in the corners with genuine amusement at your disgruntlement.

“Too bad,” he groused. “I want to watch you first.”

“Fair enough,” you grunted as he caught you just so and you rocked against him. “I’m so close…” and you really were. His touch was relentless, demanding your pleasure in return for the sensations you’d just given him.

“I know,” he snarled right in your ear, teeth - the non-venomous ones you hoped - just grazing the shell of your ear. “I can smell it on you.”

And with that, you came unexpectedly hard, crashing into your release and clinging to him. He eased you through it and when you lay panting and spent on his chest, he moved his hand to his mouth and cleaned himself luxuriantly, obviously enjoying the taste of you on his skin.

After that, he seemed softer and more relaxed, and when you’d recovered enough to get your legs back under you and return your attentions to his body, he finally seemed to have allowed himself this connection to another person. His body heaved and rocked rhythmically, his legs knocking nonchalantly against each other as he spasmed and moaned, and as he grew wetter and slicker around your hand, and his inner walls began to clench and shiver in a distinct cadence, you knew he was getting close. He was also giving you the most delicious sounds; gasping and cursing, grunting and even wailing softly at times when you slowed your touches to a barely-there whisper against him.

Eventually though, he began to rock against you in earnest, and you felt his release coming as a rapidly-building wave, gathering momentum until it finally ripped through him like a wildfire. White release gushed from his entrance and covered your hand, rolling down the sleek, shiny carapace to soak into the webbing while his body heaved and convulsed with pleasure. He made no sound, his face contorted in a rictus of pleasure as he gave everything he had to you, his hands gripping the webbing as he released in messy waves all over himself and you.

Finally as the pleasure faded to something gentler and less intense, he lay back, motionless on his bed, muscles completely slack, face soft, breathing quiet.

“Gilvas?”

“Mmm?” he hummed without moving.

“You alright?”

“Mmm.”

Weak and completely spent, he lay there unmoving for a long time while you gently trailed your fingers around his still clenching slit as aftershocks of pleasure rippled through him. Eventually, you wiped your hand clean on the webs beside him and shuffled up to lie beside him. He still looked absolutely exhausted and drained, and you sat there a long time just watching him.

After a very long time, he mustered the energy to open one arm to you and you nuzzled in against his bare shoulder. His breath hissed softly through his slack jaw and he pressed a shy kiss to the top of your head. “See why I wanted… to make you… to make you come first?” he whispered, words heavily slurred and indistinct.

You nodded and shifted to drape your arm across his chest and draw idle patterns over the bare skin of his white torso.

His skin was starkly pale in the moonlight, and as you stared at him, you realised he’d probably relied solely on touch for the whole time you’d been in the room. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his jutting collarbone, making him inhale sharply.

He was still too thin, still obviously not taking care of himself properly, but, you thought, if he’d trusted you and let you in to this extent, perhaps you could both take care of each other now.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he whispered after another long while of silence and closeness in the dark.

“Just thinking how good this feels,” you said honestly. “And how I could lie like this forever… Or at least… until you’re ready to go again.”

He snorted, taken off-guard. “Won’t be for a very long while,” he said bashfully. “Driders don’t recover quickly. Not the male ones, anyway.”

“I’m in no rush,” you said, laying your cheek back down on his cool skin and shivering as goosebumps rippled up your body.

He fumbled around on his other side and drew a large blanket up and over his body, careful to avoid the mess on his carapace, and let you snuggle up beneath it.

You’d have to wait for the dawn to go again though, because you were asleep in his arms in minutes.

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Maybe we'll get to see more of them in the future, but for now, this four-part story is over. Thanks for your comments and enthusiasm for the cranky spooder boy!

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I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

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[leejungchans]

— dance with me?

word count: 1.7k

pairing: dino (svt) x ateez oc (juliet)

warning(s): none!!

genre: an overwhelming amount of fluff bc i love lee chan

set on february 11, 2021

summary: during a late-night date on dino’s birthday, he asks juliet a special question.

juliet’s masterlist

minnie 🐭❤️ [22:16] i’m heading down now!! (◕‿◕) don’t drive off without me please ur so sexc 😩😩

From where he is, parked a street down from the building where ATEEZ’s dorm is in, Chan shakes his head fondly, looking out the window from the driver’s seat for any sign of his girlfriend.

Sure enough, just a few minutes later, Juliet emerges from the building’s entrance, glancing down the mostly empty street before spotting the familiar car.

Under the light of the street lamps, he can see that she’s wearing a huge puffer jacket with a scarf wrapped around her neck, purple hair stuffed under her beanie to avoid catching the attention of prying eyes. With all the layers she has on, she reminds him of a waddling penguin as she speed-walks towards the car.

Cute.

Chan unlocks the door as Juliet approaches, her eyes smiling while she settles into the passenger’s seat before leaning over the console to hug him. “Happy birthday, Channie,” she beams, taking off her mask to nuzzle the bottom half of her face into the thick material of her scarf.

“You already said that,” Chan teases, also smiling as he watches her fumble with the seatbelt for a bit.

“That was from almost twelve hours ago at 12 am! I think it’s illegal if I didn’t wish you a happy birthday again,” Juliet protests. “Sorry for being late, by the way. Have you been waiting long?”

“It’s only a few minutes, don’t sweat it.”

“Okay, but there’s actually a good reason! I was about to leave the building when Mingi-oppa called me because I left your present on the table, and I had to go back up to grab it! So you have him to thank that you have a birthday present.”

Juliet takes out a small gift bag, its handles tied together with ribbon so he can’t look into it, and hands it to him with a sweet grin. “Don’t open it now, though,” she warns half-jokingly.

“What? Why?” Chan whines. “I can’t even open my own present on my birthday?”

“No, because if you open it now then I’ll have to explain the meaning behind your gift, and if I do that I might actually cry. There’s a card inside explaining it.”

“What if I want to hear it from you?”

“Then you can call me when you get home,” she responds cheekily.

Chan relents. “Fine, you win. But you didn’t have to get me anything, I hope you know that,” he adds the last part seriously.

Juliet smiles reassuringly. “I know, but I wanted to. I hope you’ll like it, though.”

“I know I will.” It’s at that moment when he finally gets a good look at her face, the light from the street lamps hitting it just enough for him to note the dark circles under her eyes. “You look tired, baby. Don’t get me wrong, you’re beautiful no matter what, but is everything okay?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah.” As though on cue, Juliet brings a hand up to cover her mouth as she yawns. “Just a little tired from comeback preparations and practising for Kingdom. I’ll be fine, though, don’t worry.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” Chan admits. “You shouldn’t have come so you can rest.”

Juliet frowns. “No, I wanted to see you. Plus, it’s your birthday.”

“Okay, but you have to promise that you’ll take care of yourself.”

“I always do!” A pause. “Okay, sometimes I don’t, but I’ll try,” she promises genuinely.

Chan smiles. “Good. Let’s go, then. Seatbelt on?”

“Mhm!”

“Um, where exactly are you taking me?” Juliet asks suspiciously, noting that they’re currently driving up a hill away from central Seoul.

“Patience, Minnie. You’ll find out soon,” Chan says with a mischievous smirk. “We’re almost there.”

She feigns an offended gasp. “I am always patient! I’m just asking because I’m too pretty to meet my end now.”

“If something happens, I’ll protect you.”

“Nice try, but don’t think I haven’t watched that episode of GOING SEVENTEEN with you guys in the haunted house,” Juliet teases with a raised brow. “If anything, we probably need to call Wonwoo-ssi or Minghao-ssi.”

Chan groans. “Can we not talk about my members when we’re on a date?”

This only earns a laugh from Juliet. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“You’re going to tease me even on my birthday?”

“It’s how I show affection!” she defends while the car comes to a stop at the side of a dimly lit road. “Are we here?”

Upon his nod, she unbuckles her seatbelt to hop out the car, snow crunching under her boots. Immediately, harsh winds whip at her face and she shivers, the temperature even lower due to the higher elevation.

She hears a lighthearted tsk from behind her before feeling her jacket being draped over her shoulders. “You left it in the backseat, silly,” Chan says softly while he helps her into it, referring to when she took it off during the car ride. “You’re going to catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t. I have you to remind me,” Juliet says cheekily, earning herself a light flick on the forehead. She follows Chan to a clearing a few paces away from where they parked and immediately realises why he took her here.

Seoul, with its sparkling lights, is captivating at night when you’re in the heart of the city, but perhaps even more so when you’re looking at it from afar. She can’t help but admire the stark contrast between the tranquil hillside they’re at that compared to the vibrant city centre it overlooks.

“I sometimes come here with the members when we want to be away from... the loudness of it all,” Chan explains quietly as they move closer to the railing. “To think. Or just to take our mind off certain things.”

Juliet leans closer to his side to link their arms, her head coming to rest on his shoulder. “It’s beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Don’t come to places like here often?”

She snorts. “I don’t just let anyone drive me to a dark hill in the middle of the night.”

Chan laughs, gently resting his head on hers. “You have a point. Does this mean I’m the only person allowed to take you here?”

“I’d like that. I also have a horrible sense of direction, so I don’t think I can remember the way here even if I tried.” Despite her quip, something in Juliet feels fuzzy and warm at the thought of this place being one only they know of.

It brings a sense of giddiness, the same one she felt when she was much, much younger; when she and her friends first decided on a secret hideout at their school back home in Sydney. Only this time, there’s more to it than just childhood innocence.

Juliet doesn’t know much about love. She’s had crushes here and there throughout her life, but none of them ever developed into something further. Of course, until she met Chan.

She doesn’t know much about love. But this feels like it.

And that’s more than enough for her.

His voice cuts through her thoughts. “I actually have something to ask you.”

At her hum, he continues.

“I was wondering if you’d want to be on Danceology. You know, like for a collaboration. We can choreograph and dance it together... anything you want, really.”

Juliet looks up at the boy with wide eyes, not knowing if she heard him correctly. “You’re sure?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. Or you don’t have to decide now, I know you’re really busy these days. No pressure at all.”

“No, no,” she clarifies. “I meant if you’re sure you want to do one with me?”

The look in his eyes is so tender that she feels like crying. “I wouldn’t want anyone else.”

Something tells her he’s not only referring to Danceology.

Juliet leans her forehead on Chan’s shoulder to hide her face from him. “You’re going to make me cry on your own birthday,” she mutters.

“Is that a yes?”

She nods against him while blinking away the hot tears prickling at her eyes, feeling his lips press against her temple.

“That’s the best present you could’ve given me.”

“Yah, you can’t say that!” Juliet says, somehow finding it in her to crack a joke. What can she say? Humour is one of her many coping mechanisms. “You’re only supposed to say that if I didn’t give you anything! What does that make the gift I got you?”

“Best of the best?” At her laugh, Chan presses again, “am I still not allowed to open it?”

“No, you’re not.”

[00:05—Outside ATEEZ’s dorm]

“Okay, fine, you can open it.”

“What made you change your mind?” Chan grins, already reaching for the small bag in the backseat.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Juliet admits, smiling as she uses the dimmest setting of her phone’s flashlight to illuminate the dark interior, the overhead light being too risky to turn on at this hour lest they want to draw unwanted attention to themselves. “I guess I want to see your reaction.”

She stares quietly as he undos the ribbon tying the handles together before looking into the bag and taking out a small box. Despite her shyness and the sudden urge to jump out of the car and run back up to the dorm, Juliet continues to hold up her phone as he takes out the silver band within it.

It’s simple, minimalist, inconspicuous enough to wear during the day but at the same time uniquely his due to the custom engraving on the outside of the band. A snowflake.

She bites the inside of her cheek from nervousness as Chan silently reads the small card that came along in the bag, subconsciously tracing over her neat handwriting with his finger.

“Like a snowflake, I fell for you hahahaha (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) You asked me to be yours during the first snow of the year. I hope that is only the start of many more years to come. Happy Birthday, always be happy and healthy ❤️ And don’t forget to take care of yourself!! (♡`Д´) If you forget I’ll come over and nag you, but maybe you’d like that more than not ㅋㅋㅋ — 🐭❤️”

Chan’s eyes are glossy when he finally meets her curious and worried gaze, trying to gauge his reaction. He beams brightly.

“Told you I’d like it.”

find their collaboration here!! 😼

a/n: blessing you guys with this gif bc look at him go!! ;-; stream dino’s dancelogy to be sexcie 😼 pls don’t let juno flop </3 also i thought it’d be too mean if i didn’t tell you what the present was bc i definitely considered not saying anything about it 👀👀 anyways let me know what you think about this chapter 🥺 personally i am <///3 bc bwhehwhs i want what they have but also i’m not very good at writing fluff whjehdhw i cringe at myself sm when writing it 🤡

thank you so much for reading 💕 please do consider leaving feedback whether it’s a reblog, a reply or an ask, it would mean the absolute world to me as feedback really motivates and supports creators 🥺 and feel free to chat with me about juliet or anything else through my asks!! as always, take care and have a good day!!

[sleepysnk]

bye i love Niccolo, that is all.

Crashing Tides

Pairings: Niccolo x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none just fluff

"Niccolo wait up!"

"You're just slow! These waves aren't gonna surf themselves!"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she grabbed her surfboard off the wall it leaned on. The day was perfect, bright sun, warm air, not a cloud in the sky, and best of all, huge waves.

She ran towards the crashing waves, she noticed Niccolo was already hitting them.

"Come on (Y/N)! These waves aren't just for me!" he called.

She shook her head before running out to the water, she lied on her belly, paddling into the salty water which made her swimsuit stick to her skin.

Her eyes averted to the wave which approached her in the distance, it was pretty tall, but nothing she couldn't handle.

Just as the wave was about to hit she lifted herself onto her board, standing up and riding against the wave. The water splashed onto her legs, she looked at Niccolo who was smiling at her. Her cheeks grew hot seeing his smile, he was always so adorable.

Her eye grew wide as another wave approached and Niccolo wasn't paying attention.

"Niccolo!"

He turned, his face growing with shock and the wave knocked him off his board. (Y/N) jumped off hers and rushed over to him, she watched his board slide onto the beach.

She walked through the water which was up to her waist. "Niccolo?!" she yelled, looking around for him.

He was laying there limp.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened as she swam over to his body, she shook his arm. "Niccolo?! Shit!" she lifted his head, trying to see if he hit a rock or something.

His eyes opened and he started laughing. "Your face was priceless!" he said before sitting up, his feet touching the floor.

She rolled her eyes, smacking his arm. "What's wrong with you?! You scared the shit out of me," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

He chuckled, "It isn't the first time you've saved me."

Her cheeks grew hot, "Whatever! Come on.. I'm hungry," she said, walking towards the sandy edge of the beach.

He followed after her and slung his arm over her shoulder. "Your dad probably has something good, please tell me he made the shrimp."

She grabbed her board off the ground, wiping any sandy residue off of it. "He always has shrimp for you," she giggled.

Niccolo grabbed his own board and jogged behind her. "Say less! Mr.(L/N) coming in clutch," he said excitedly.

Her eyes wandered to his face. Niccolo looked so good right now. His blonde hair was wet from the water, a few droplets dripped at the end and a few strands stuck to his face. His tan skin glowed in the sunlight, the bracelets around his wrist were damp, and that shell necklace around his neck pressed into his skin.

He's totally a man now.

"Hello? You got a staring problem," he flicked her head, making her wince.

She hit his arm, "Stop! Sorry.." she mumbled.

He furrowed his brows, "You sure? (Y/N) you know I'm always here to help you.." he said, putting his hand on her shoulder.

Tingles came from his touch. "I'm fine.. don't worry Niccolo," she replied, smiling at him.

The two made their way to (Y/N)'s beach house, her dad worked as a surfboard maker. He also was a great chef, he cooked when the people around town wanted to have a cookout or bbq.

"Hey dad!" (Y/N) called.

Her dad emerged from the kitchen. "Oh hey! Glad your back, I needed to speak with you."

His eyes averted to Niccolo. "Hey Mr.(L/N)" he said, smiling at him.

"Niccolo! Good to see you, and please you don't gotta call me that. Your family," he replied, putting his hand onto his shoulder.

(Y/N) sat at the table, her stomach growled. She had been out all day surfing that she forgot to eat, her dad always got on her case about it saying it wasn't healthy for her to just leave on an empty stomach. She never listened though.

"So what are you two looking for?" her dad asked, leaning against the counter.

"The usual! Your shrimp always hit the spot," Niccolo replied.

Her dad smiled, "Sounds good, I'll go and whip it up. You want any (Y/N)?" he asked.

"Yeah sure," she replied, swinging her feet a bit.

"You two can head upstairs, it may be awhile."

Niccolo and (Y/N) looked at each other before going up the stairs to her room. Her dad trusted Niccolo, he knew he would never do anything to his daughter.

Pictures hung on the walls of (Y/N) and her family, as well as pictures of her and Niccolo as children. It was crazy how much time has passed since then.

"I heard there's gonna be some sick waves in the next few days," Niccolo said, following her into her room.

She placed a towel down on her bed. "Really? That's lame, it should have happened before summer ended."

He chuckled a bit, "Right? But I mean, you're gonna be here anyway. We can always surf after school," he replied, shrugging.

She looked on her phone. "You're right."

He plopped down next to her, he grabbed the phone out of her hands. "Nah we aren't sitting on our phones, let's chat." he said, laughing a bit.

She rolled her eyes, "Fine! What do you wanna talk about?" she asked, nodding her head.

His cheeks grew pink, it made her brows furrow.

"W-Well.. since we're both really close, I was wondering if you-"

"Guys! Food is ready!"

She looked at Niccolo, "Keep going," she said, smiling a bit.

He shook his head, "Nah, let's go eat. It can wait," he replied, standing up and heading to her door.

She was puzzled but she didn't question it, but she did have one question.

Why was he blushing?

-

"I'll see you tomorrow."

Niccolo smiled, leaning against the doorframe. "For sure! Maybe you can beat me to the tide," he replied.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah whatever! Get out loser"

He put his hand over his chest dramatically. "Loser? Nah that's definitely you, but I'll see you tomorrow!" he said, exiting the front door of her house.

She shut it and smiled to herself. He was such a dork.

"(Y/N)? A word please?" her father called from the kitchen.

She nodded, heading to the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Have a seat," he replied, pointing at the chair in front of her.

She plopped down in the chair, her head cocking to the side wanting to know what her dad wanted to speak about.

"Your mom called"

Her eyes grew wide, she hadn't seen her mom in about a year or two. (Y/N)'s parents were divorced, they separated when she was 13, and the custody battle was absolute hell. In the end, she sided with her father and her mother wasn't the happiest. But if her daughter was happy, so was she. They spoke from time to time, but whenever she called her dad, it wasn't good.

"And? What did she want?" she asked, picking at her nails.

He sighed, "Your mom wants you to come home for the school year."

What?

"Wait.. what? Dad no, I don't wanna go with her. I'm already signed up for school here! It wouldn't make sense.. and what about Niccolo? I have zero friends where she lives," she said, her voice sounding upset.

Her father looked down, "I know sweetheart.. but with the custody battle I can't really say no. It's been awhile since you've seen her, I think it'll do you both some good."

She felt frustrated, why the hell did this have to happen now? The new school year was starting soon and she knew absolutely nobody where her mom lived. Her mom lived in the suburbs, almost three hours away.

"When is she coming to get me?" she asked.

He leaned back in his seat. "She'll be coming a week before the school year begins to pack up everything. I told her to give you more time, especially with Niccolo and all." he replied.

Her cheeks grew warm, her dad must have known about the way she felt towards Niccolo. It was almost blatantly obvious she liked her childhood best friend.

"Will I ever be able to visit or come home here?" she asked.

"Of course! Once the summer begins you'll come home here. Your mom and I both agreed on that," he said, putting his hand onto hers.

She breathed air out of her nose, she wasn't sure what else to say. She wanted to stay so bad, but she knew running from her mom wasn't a good idea and her dad would be pissed. She could tell her dad didn't want to send her away, but what else could he do?

"I'm gonna head upstairs.. night," she said before standing up and leaving the kitchen.

Her mind swirled around with different thoughts and questions. Who was she gonna be friends with? Would she even make friends? Would her mom make her stay? What about Niccolo? What was she going to do without him?

The thoughts alone made her stomach churn, she only had a week until her mom would come by to get her.

A week.

Seven days to spend with Niccolo.

She wanted to make it count.

-

The next day (Y/N) awoke to the sound of her dad's drill. He was probably making another surfboard or fixing one. He was always up early fixing things for people, it always woke her up too.

She looked out the window, seeing that the sky was overcast. She noticed the waves were a bit higher today and it was noticeably more windy than the previous days. Maybe today would be a good day to hit some waves with Niccolo.

Niccolo, shit.

How the hell was she supposed to tell Niccolo she was leaving?

Sighing, she rolled out of bed and made her way downstairs. The sound of the drill got louder as she approached the kitchen, her dad was outside in the backyard cutting up wood.

Her phone suddenly pinged, causing her to reach for it.

A message from Niccolo displayed on the screen.

Niccolo: the waves are calling to us (Y/N), you better get out here rn 👀

She smiled, typing a reply.

(Y/N): on my way! let me go tell my dad and get changed first

Niccolo: ooo getting changed? pls put on the pink one today 😐 you promised plus it looks nice on you

Her cheeks heated up from the message, Niccolo always complimented her whenever he could. Whether it be her trying on outfits or swimsuits, he was always her #1 fan.

She rolled her eyes before opening the back door, the warm humid air rushing onto her skin.

"Is it cool if I go surfing with Niccolo?" she asked, nodding her head.

Her dad looked up, "Yeah sure! Be careful though, those waves are pretty big today. I heard we're getting a storm later on," he replied, wiping the sweat from his brow.

She nodded and stepped back inside, closing the door. She rushed up the stairs to throw on her swimsuit, she put on the pink one so Niccolo wouldn't be 'salty' about her not putting it on.

She finished up and rushed out the door to meet Niccolo at their usual spot. She grabbed her surfboard and made her way there, the wind was blowing around, it made the sticky air a little less bearable.

"Finally! I've been waiting forever!"

She smiled, seeing how dramatic he could act always made her grin. "Sorry! I was in a rush," she replied, looking up at him.

He slung his arm around her shoulder. "Nah don't worry sugar, I was just messing with ya" he said.

She giggled a bit, the nickname he gave her made her cheeks feel warm. Something Niccolo was always able to make her do.

"Wait did I offend you? Shit.. I'm sorry," he said, looking at her.

She blinked, "What? No! I'm fine don't worry Niccolo," she laughed.

His blonde hair blew over his eyes, "You just seem out of the ordinary, that's all."

"No I'm fine.. don't worry about it," she said. "Come on! Let's go hit these waves, shall we?"

He grabbed his surfboard and jogged after her, she noticed the red flag blowing in the wind. It meant that people should stay out of the water, but Niccolo and (Y/N) never paid much attention. Nobody was there to stop them.

Stepping into the water, goosebumps formed onto her skin. It felt cold around her ankles, she lied down on her board and began to paddle in the water.

"I'm gonna ride all these waves and you're not gonna know what hit you," Niccolo said, paddling next to her.

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah okay! Try me," she smirked.

"Oh you already know I will."

She felt flustered, her eyes averted forward at the wave approaching in the distance. It had to be at least eight feet tall. Nothing she couldn't handle of course.

Seeing the wave getting closer, she stood up, balancing her weight on the board. The water splashed around her legs, soaking her swimsuit and making her shiver a bit. She looked over at Niccolo who was riding along the tide.

Her mind began to wander to her going with her mom, disappointment ran through her as the thoughts invaded her head. It made her upset, frustrated, sad.

"(Y/N)! There's a big one coming!" Niccolo called, looking towards her.

She looked back seeing the giant wave approaching, it had to be bigger than the last one. At least twelve feet high.

"I got this!" she yelled, hopping off her board and lying down on the base.

Niccolo didn't like how big the wave was, she's never rode big waves before and he sure as hell knew it wasn't a good idea. He paddled back to the beach, watching her in the distance.

"(Y/N)! Get back! It's too big!" he yelled.

She ignored him, she wanted to go all out. She had to show Niccolo what she could do before she left.

Standing up as the wave came up to her, she felt her feet slip and she fell into the water.

"Shit!"

Niccolo ran into the water, the wave crashed into the beach almost knocking him back. He saw her surfboard floating in the water heading towards the shore, it made him worried not seeing her on it.

"(Y/N)!" he yelled.

No response.

He saw her struggling in the water, it was deeper once you got further from the shore. She couldn't exactly stand in the water beyond the halfway point.

He lifted her up, her arms going around his neck. "Shit! Are you okay?" he asked, looking at her.

She coughed, spitting out the water that was in her mouth. "Yeah.."

Niccolo made his way back to shore with her around him. His grip on her waist was tight.

"Why the hell did you do that? You could have drowned," he said, placing her onto the ground.

She looked down at the ground. "It's nothing.." she replied. "I'll just go back inside."

She turned to grab her board, when suddenly Niccolo's hand went around her arm.

"No seriously.. what the fuck is going on with you? Something is clearly bothering you and I'm not leaving until you tell me," he said.

She sighed, dropping her board onto the sand. Her gaze averted towards the ground. "Niccolo.. my mom is making me come live with her during the school year. She called my dad and I'm leaving next week," she replied.

His eyes softened, "What? For real? Why? I thought she was fine with you staying with him," he said.

She sighed, "I guess she wants me home for a bit, but he did say during the summer I'm coming back." she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Her gaze veered to the darkening clouds in the distance, she could faintly see the lightning flashing and the wind picking up.

"Well.. I guess we're gonna have to make it worth it," Niccolo said, smiling.

She furrowed her brows, "What do you mean?"

He chuckled, "We're going to make the last few days you're here fun, okay? You're my best friend (Y/N)... you deserve a good time before you go," he said, brushing his hand along her arm.

She felt tingles along her skin. "Well, I guess you're right. Plus I don't want to spend it all lonely," she giggled.

"Exactly! Now let's go chill! It's gonna storm anyway," he replied, taking her hand into his.

-

The rest of the day was so much fun. (Y/N) and Niccolo did so many things together, from making cookies, to (Y/N) doing his hair, watching movies, they had a blast together.

It was now night, the wind howled outside from the storm. Rain pounded against the roof and windows, it was quite late and (Y/N) wasn't sure how she'd get home.

"It's really coming down out there," Niccolo said, looking out the window.

Lightning flashed across the sky, lighting up the shoreline. The waves crashed onto the shore.

"I need to get back somehow," she said, looking at her phone.

Niccolo looked back at her. "Are you sure you want to? (Y/N) it's really bad out there," he said with concern in his voice.

She wasn't sure how to respond, her dad was cool with Niccolo, but if she stayed overnight would he be pissed? Her dad never trusted any guy besides Niccolo around her.

She decided to send a text to her dad.

(Y/N): hey uh.. idk if i can get back, it's really shitty outside.

Within seconds the grey bubbles popped up.

Dad: No worries. Niccolo's mom knows you're there, you can spend the night. I rather not have you coming out in the middle of a storm. Stay safe. I love you. No funny business either.

She looked over at him. "Well look's like my dad is fine with me spending the night," she said, grinning at him.

Niccolo seemed surprised, but nonetheless he was excited. "Alright bet! You wanna head upstairs? We can chill and do whatever," he asked.

She nodded, "I'd love that."

She followed him up the stairs to his room, she remembered this room all too well. Her and Niccolo spent so many days and nights together in there, even now as a teenager she still felt that nostalgia from it.

"I don't have any clothes.." she muttered to herself.

Niccolo turned back, "Oh, here! Put this on," he said, searching through his drawers for a shirt and shorts for her to wear.

He tossed her a grey shirt and some black shorts. "Thanks.." she said, smiling at him.

He felt his stomach do flips at the sight of her smile. "Yeah no problem.. it's not like you've never borrowed my stuff before," he replied, running his fingers through his blonde hair.

She felt her cheeks growing hot again, curse this boy and what he does to her. Exiting the room, she found herself in his bathroom. She peeled off the swimsuit which was damp from the surfing they did together, she threw on his shirt and shorts and tossed the swimsuit near the edge of the bathtub to dry.

Niccolo laid on his bed, staring at the screen of his phone. His eyes veered to the door where (Y/N) stood, his eyes taking in the sight of her in his clothes. It was something he liked, she was always so cute to him.

"You wanna come lay down?" he asked, patting the side of his bed.

She smiled, "Of course!"

She climbed onto his bed, her head lying against the pillows. Niccolo's face dusted pink, they hadn't been this close in a bed since they were kids.

"So uh.. you ready to move?" he asked, trying to ease the nervousness.

She sighed, "Not really.. I don't know anyone where my mom lives," she replied.

He chuckled a bit, "I'm always going to be here for you, don't be afraid to send me a text during class. You already know I'll respond, especially if it's you."

Her heart swelled, "Please! I'll need it," she giggled.

He smiled, opening his arms for her. "I'll need plenty of hugs."

She giggled and leaned into his embrace, she felt his warmth surrounding her. It felt.. good. It wasn't weird for the two to be like this, she had spent many nights in his embrace when things got hard with her parents. Niccolo was always the one to comfort her and he had no issue with that, whenever she needed him, he was there.

Her eyes felt heavy and eventually the two dozed off into a deep sleep.

-

The next six days were absolutely enjoyable. (Y/N) and Niccolo spent every single day together, whether it be surfing or simply spending time at their houses, they made the last few days together memorable. They took many photos and polaroids together.

Here they sat by the shore, watching the moon rise in the distance. The sun was now gone behind the clouds, the sky was painted with dark hues of blue and black.

(Y/N) wore his sweater, they just finished surfing not too long ago. Her hair was slightly damp.

"Can't believe this is really it.." Niccolo said, looking towards her.

She lied her head onto his shoulder. "It isn't forever Niccolo.. we have facetime and texting," she said.

"I know.. it's just so hard to believe my best friend won't be here for nine months," he replied.

She sighed, "It is hard to believe but.. I'll be home soon."

Her eyes looked at the moon in the horizon, the tide slowly came towards the shoreline, making the sand wet. The atmosphere was relaxing, the air was salty and warm, the tide was calm, and the moon was out without a cloud in the sky. It lit up the ocean before her.

She couldn't help but reminisce. She spent her whole life here, she loved the beach. She spent her whole life with Niccolo, he was so important to her.

Niccolo was her first friend, they met when they were toddlers. (Y/N)'s family was very close to Niccolo's, they would have sleepovers, celebrate birthdays, make sandcastles, and swim until the sun set.

Most importantly, Niccolo was the one who taught her how to surf. She remembered all the times she would see him hitting the waves, and she wanted to be just like him. Even as a little kid she had a desire to show him that she could do it.

There were many fails and tears of frustration shed, but eventually she did it. Niccolo was so happy to see her ride her first wave, he felt so proud.

There was good moments, but there were also bad ones. When her parents would fight until all hours of the night she found herself running to Niccolo almost every night. She spent many nights crying into his shoulder, in which he would comfort her.

It felt so long ago.

When she turned fourteen, that's when she found her feelings towards Niccolo were more than just being best friends. It wouldn't be an overstatement to say she loved him, her feelings never fizzled out and she always found herself being pulled back into him.

He could never know though, she didn't want him to freak out.

A sudden ping brought her out of her thoughts. She grabbed her phone and noticed the text from her dad.

"Gotta go?" Niccolo asked, looking at her phone screen.

She sighed, "Yeah.. it's late anyway," she replied.

She stood up with Niccolo, she dusted off any sand that was on her shorts.

"Wait."

She looked at Niccolo, cocking her head to the side. "What's up?" she asked.

Even in the darkness she could see his face turning pink. "I-I.. I've wanted to tell you this for such a long time, with you leaving.. I figured it'd be a good time to tell you," he replied.

She blinked, "What is it?"

"(Y/N).. I-I.. really, really, like you. Like.. I can't even explain what you do to me, you're so beautiful and having you as my best friend has been an absolute blessing. I like you so fucking much," he said.

Her eyes grew wide, hearing his confession made her heart swell and her cheeks heat up.

"Niccolo.. I-"

"I get it if you don't feel the same," he said, holding her hand. "I just... I can't get over you."

She smiled, "No Niccolo, I like you too. I like you more than a best friend," she replied.

He seemed surprised, "What? No, you're lying! You don't at all-"

"Niccolo shut up"

That's when her lips pressed onto his, at first he didn't move, but then he began to kiss her back. His hands found their way to her waist, bringing her body against his own. She put her arms around his neck, tugging at the blonde strands of his hair.

The kiss they shared was passionate, it was full of love and emotion from the hidden feelings they've had for so long.

They stood there for awhile, just kissing each other and embracing their skin.

He broke the kiss, hearing her phone. "Shit.."

She looked at her phone seeing another text from her dad.

Dad: Where are you?? Come home please

She sighed, "I gotta get going," she said, looking up at Niccolo.

He cupped her cheek, "Let me walk you home, for the last time." he said.

She smiled, taking his hand and walking with him to her house. She felt her heart tug a bit, realizing this was going to be the last time he'll walk her home for a long time.

She stood in front of the door. "I guess I'll see you next summer," she said, looking up at him.

He smiled, "I guess so.. but, just know I'll be waiting for you, (Y/N). That will never change," he replied.

He kissed her lips one last time. "Goodnight"

"Goodnight"

-

The next nine months were difficult, but manageable for (Y/N). She was home sick for a long time, she had to get used to a new environment and she had to make some new friends in the process. It was hard, but she did manage. Niccolo kept her going, he assured her summer would arrive soon and it'll all be over.

He was right.

It was now the end of May, she graduated from high school and it was now summer break. She was excited to come home to her dad, they didn't have a lot of time to speak, but he was happy to have her back home.

Stepping into the house she hadn't seen since August, she was greeted with her dad.

"Welcome back!" he said, hugging her.

She smiled, "Hey dad.. uh, mom told me to say bye," she replied, looking around her home.

He nodded, "Alright.. well, I made some changes to the house. I don't have to work outside anymore," he said.

She shook her head, "Well that's good."

He looked at her, "Niccolo has been looking for you. He stopped by earlier, you should go see him. I'm sure you both are eager to see one another," he said.

She felt a smile grow onto her face. "I should go see him.. I'll be back soon!" she said, opening the door to her house.

"Be safe!" her dad called.

She smiled before exiting her house. She missed the warm salty air, it had been so long since she had seen the ocean. That's not the part she missed the most though, it was Niccolo who she wanted to see the most.

She made her way to the shore, she knew she would probably find him there.

Niccolo sat on the sand, he stared at the ocean before him. The waves crashed onto the shoreline near his feet, his mind wandering to (Y/N) and where she was. He missed her dearly, he just wanted to see her.

"The ocean is a really great sight, huh?"

He turned his head to see (Y/N) standing there. "(Y/N)!" he yelled, standing up and hugging her tightly.

She almost fell to the ground. "Hi baby," she said with excitement in her a voice. A smile on her features.

He kissed her, God did he miss her lips. "It's so good to see you again," he cupped her cheek. "We need to catch up."

She smiled, running her fingers through her hair. "We have all day handsome," she replied.

He lifted her off the ground, a yelp escaping her mouth. "You best have a fresh pair of clothes," he smirked.

[weasleyswizardpleases]

And the Living is Easy (Fred x reader)

Summary: You spend the first night of summer vacation getting into trouble with the Weasleys + Harry and Hermione. Fred x reader. Fluffy mischief mostly, but sex is discussed and implied. 

Warnings/Notes: Light sexual content but not all out smut, alcohol, heights, language. I wrote this to be a stand alone, but I enjoyed it so much that it might become part of a loose series of slice of life-y reader x twins fics set at the burrow over the summer! ps i did not edit this at all after writing it at 2am so. uh

Summer at the Weasley’s is my favorite time of year. After my mother passed, you were tossed around from boarding school to boarding school, relative to relative, never really having a say in where you went, or with whom. But ever since becoming fast friends with Fred and George while repairing brooms for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, you’ve pretty much been considered an honorary Weasley.

You stow your suitcases in the overhead and squeeze into a seat next to Fred and George. Across from you, Ron, Lee, and Harry are packed in. 

“Do you reckon you’ll ever make it out to the burrow, Lee?” asks George pointedly. 

“Yeah, you don’t know what you’re missing out on. Mrs. Weasley’s hotcakes are out of this world.” Harry says.

“And there’s loads of space to play quidditch.” you say.

“And loads of secret spots not even Mum knows about where we can basically do whatever we like.” adds Fred.

“You know my mum will hardly let me out of her sight for a day. Merlin’s sake, she’s practically ass to elbow on me all summer.” Lee says, faking a pout. “Quit ribbing at me, would you? Or I’ll spend the summer in my room coming up with derogatory names to call you on the Quidditch pitch.”

Murmurs of “Come on, we’re only joking.” and “Fine, fine.” fill the packed compartment. You lift your rat Pansy up to the window to show him the scenery.

“Bet you’ve never seen the fine English countryside like this, eh Pansy?” you baby-talk at him, scratching his little noggin.

“You know that thing is never gonna talk back at you, right Y/N?” says Fred, rolling his eyes. 

“You never know. Look what happened to Scabbers.” you say, wiggling you eyebrows. “This rat could also secretly be a creepy little pervert who watches me undress at night.”

“I suppose it isn’t unprecedented in the rat community,” agrees George. Ron scowls in disdain.

“That’s my pet we’re talking about!” he says, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

“Yeah, fine pet he was.” says Harry, grinning.

“I will say, Ron-” Fred begins, clearing his throat. “You’ll never find another like him.” He claps his little brother on the back and stands up, peering down the hallway. “Oi, it’s the trolley, look alive Georgie.” George rises and straightens his coat. The boys have been planning for ages to charm the trolley witch into selling their skiving snackboxes. They run off down the car towards her. You tuck Pansy back into his cage and watch the scenery go by yourself. Before you know it, you’re being shaken awake by Fred and George. 

“C’mon, Dad is waiting!” says George. 

“Got you some chocolate frogs, but that means you owe us one.” says Fred, shoving a wriggling paper bag into your hands. Delighted, you expertly open the bag, catch a frog, and slurp it up before it manages to escape. 

“Tank -ou” you mumble, your mouth still full. Lugging your trunks over to meet Mr. Weasley, you smile with excitement. Every summer with the Weasleys is a blast, but you know this one will start off with a bang because last week Fred absconded with a jug of top shelf mead from Filch’s office. You’d all agreed that you needed it more, since you want to have fun and have no money, while Filch obviously dislikes fun and ostensibly has some amount of money squirreled away from all his groundskeeping or lurking or whatever his job is. 

After greeting Molly, you and the twins bound up to their room- and, when you’re here, your room- pushing and shoving your way up the narrow stairwell. You toss your things down and throw yourself onto a bed, spreading your arms as if making a snow angel. 

“Oh, boys, it is good to be home!” you say, laughing. Fred and George always joke that their mother likes you, Harry, and Hermione better than any of her own actual children, and you love teasing them about it. 

“Speak for yourself, she’s already got that sending-us-to-de-gnome-the-

garden-while-hungover gleam in her eyes,” retorts George good-naturedly.

“And get your shoes off my bed! Mum will have all three of us beating out the rugs if she sees that.” says Fred. You close your eyes and pretend to be asleep, baiting the boys into attempting to push you off the bed. You wind up making such a ruckus roughhousing that Hermione comes in looking concerned, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. You all three pause from your compromised position to look at her, you releasing a vise grip on Fred, George dropping your left leg, which he had been twisting violently.

“When did you get here?” you ask, running to hug her. 

“Just apparated over, my parents would never forgive me if I didn’t at least drop by for dinner before practically moving here for the summer!” she replies, turning to greet the twins. 

“Are you going to be participating in our little soiree tonight, ‘Mione?” asks George, raising an eyebrow. 

“What are you three planning?” she asks sternly, stifling an excited smile.

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” you say. 

“But don’t wear white shoes.” warns Fred. Hermione gives you all a funny look before running off to finish her greetings. 

“Where are we going tonight, Freddie?” you ask, looking up at your tall friend. He gives you a cheeky glance.

“Oh, out by the bog. There’s a huge hill between there and the house, so we can make a fire and nobody will see.”

“And there’s a huge stand of trees and a pond between that spot and the neighbors’,” says George. 

“You two have got it all figured out. And you’ve got the firewhiskey! What a night, what a night it shall be.” you say, your voice singsonging as you dance exaggeratedly. 

“Too bad nobody invited any girls.” says Ron from the doorway. He’s been standing in the hallway looking in the mirror for some time now, fussing with his hair.

“What am I, chopped liver?” Ginny shouts from her open door down the hall.

“YOU don’t count!” Ron replies.

“We know you’ve got someone else in mind, little brother.” George says, flicking Ron in the ear. 

“It’s pretty obvious,” Fred agrees.

“You get all flustered when she corrects your grammar,” you say.

“And you let her braid your hair.” says Fred.

“And you-” begins George, but Ron interrupts, his face beet red.

“Shhhh! Buzz off you two, or I’ll start blabbing on about who you’re interested in as well.”

The twins exchange a somewhat threatened glance, but say nothing.

“That’s right, I’m not as dull as you lot like to think, thank you very much. I notice things. So let me alone or I’ll sing like a canary!” Ron finishes, turning back to the mirror for a final glance at his hair before trotting downstairs. 

“You two have crushes?” you demand, turning to stare down the twins. Fred shrugs with his usual attitude but you notice a light blush spreading across each of their cheeks. You swat him across the chest. “Why didn’t you tell me? Who is it? You motherfuckers.” You grab George by the collar. “George, tell me who it is! A crush, my god.” You throw your hands up in the air. They’re being super weird, so you decide to drop the subject. “When you snog every girl and half the boys in the school, between the two of you, you practically hold us all down to tell us the details but now you’ve got a crush and suddenly you’re like a couple of mimes.” You look each of them in the eyes, and both avoid your stare. “Fine! Don’t tell me.” You throw your hands up in mock anger and lead the charge downstairs to begin setting the table for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~After dinner, you pass the evening playing cards and chatting until Mr. and Mrs. Weasley retire for the night. Then, you’re left with all your friends and Percy, who it has been agreed simply cannot know you’re sneaking out to drink in the woods, because he is a killjoy. Using a previously discussed maneuver, Hermione attempts to trick him into believing that she and Ginny are going to bed, hoping that he will get nervous about being bullied if left alone with you and the twins, and elect to follow them to bed soon after. However, Percy is in an unusually jovial mood, and so Ron and Harry are forced to retreat as well. As a last line of defense, you pretend to fall asleep on George’s shoulder, nuzzling into his sweater. When Percy gets up to go to the bathroom, you dash outside into the moonlit yard, covering your mouth so your giggles don’t give you away. You run to crouch behind the garden shed, doubled over with laughter. 

“I thought he would never stop yapping.”

“God, how are you two related to that bore?”

“We can’t help it.” Fred says, bending to gather rocks from the ground. 

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“Watch!” he raises his hand to throw a pebble at Ginny’s window, but you grab his wrist.

“Have you lost the plot? Percy will hear! And probably your mum too, with your aim. I’ve got a better idea,” you say, peeking around the garden shed while gesturing for the boys to stay put. You pop out of the shed with a dusty, rickety broom. 

“Does this thing still work?” you ask.

“Well enough,” says Fred, getting a running start and jumping on the broom. Wobbling a bit, he sails up to Ginny’s window and confers with the girls, then moves on to Ron’s window, where he perches on the sill, one foot dangling out the window.

Beside you, you’re aware of George’s presence beside you in the cool, sticky night.

“Bloody brilliant,” he murmurs, elbowing you gently. “How’d you even know that thing was in there?”

“Lucky guess. I mean, with a family full of Quidditch players, there’s bound to be a broom lying about someplace.” 

Fred jumps down onto the broom and turns a few experimental loop de loops overhead before nearly falling and coming to a shaky landing near your feet. 

“That one belongs on the rubbish heap, honestly,” he says, laughing as he tosses the old thing aside.

“Oh, sure, blame it on the broom,” you tease.

He’s soon followed by Ginny and Hermione on Ginny’s broom. They glide down and come to a halt next to you, stepping down gracefully.

“How are Harry and Ron going to get out? They’d have to go right by Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s room, unless Harry has his broom up there with him, but I think I saw it in the foyer.” says Hermione, looking at Fred worriedly.

“Well, err, I told them to climb down,” says Fred earnestly.

“What?!” says Hermione. “They’ll be loud as bison, besides probably breaking their necks.”

“It’s not my fault they’re too dumb to pass their apparation O.W.L.S! They’ll be fine.”

As he finishes his sentence, Ron’s window slides open and Harry’s head pops out. He lowers what appears to be a rope made of sheets and blankets tied together. Hermione’s brow furrows as she watches, helpless, while Ron artlessly slips one leg out the window, before even checking to see that the “rope” is nowhere near long enough to reach the ground. Ginny giggles, biting her lip when she sees Hermione’s distress.

“Do something!” Hermione hisses, nudging her. Ginny groans and soars over to boost Ron onto the back of her broom, going back to do the same for Harry.

“Shite! The firewhiskey,” you whisper, smacking your forehead. Everyone lets out a collective groan, but before you can send someone back up to hunt down the alcohol, Ginny opens her backpack, revealing the gleaming jug. Everyone cheers, but then quickly realizes that loudly cheering may have blown your cover. Fred and George scurry off into the brush and you all follow them down a lightly trod path through the countryside, eventually reaching the open bank of a large, murky pond. This is a spot you’ve never been to before, probably because it’s a fair stretch away from the house, and apparently from any civilization at all. 

Hermione quickly conjures a large fire, creating a pocket of warmth in the chilly night air. You lean against a large rock and shiver when the cool stone brushes the back of your neck. Ginny pulls out the firewhiskey and hands it to Fred, who pops the cork, shouting with glee before knocking back a sip and passing it to George, who passes it to you. The familiar sickly sweet liquid burns your throat and warms your stomach, and you feel your (already barely existent) inhibitions begin melting away.

Before long, Ron suggests that you all play a game, and you run through your options: truth or dare, spin the bottle, a wizarding game you’ve never heard of, and hide and go seek. Hermione refutes hide and go seek on the basis of safety, and Fred refutes spin the bottle on the basis of the fact that four out of six of you are siblings. Not everyone brought their wands, so you can’t play the magic game, and you’re left with truth or dare as the apparent winner, which you were rooting for anyway, because you want to see what you can get the twins to do. It almost makes you wish Percy was here so you could put him in a compromising position, but knowing him, he’d find a way to make walking on hot coals boring. 

“I’ll start, I’ll start!” you volunteer, looking around the circle. “My first victim will beeeee…” you look at Hermione, who cringes nervously, then spin around to point at Harry. “Harry Potter. What will it be, Mr. Potter, truth or dare?” you ask.

Harry shrugs. “Hmm.. I’ll do.. Dare, why not?” he replies. 

“Alright Harry, I dare you tooooo.... Oh, easy. I dare you to smack Ron every time he says something you think is stupid tonight. And be honest, or we’ll smack you,” you say. The twins nod in agreement. 

“That’s not fair! That’s barely a real dare!” protests Ron. You raise an eyebrow at Harry, who turns and gives his friend a good wallop. 

“Alright Harry, your turn.” 

You play for nearly an hour, all the while passing the bottle lazily between you, until everyone’s good and tipsy on the strong liquor. Several good dares are exchanged: Fred is dared to give you a lap dance, which he does with gusto and an uncomfortable amount of eye contact. You dare Ginny to race you across the pond and back, and you both strip down to your skivvies and plunge into the chilly water. Ginny wins, of course, but you just wanted an excuse for a swim. Fred lends you his cloak, patting it onto your shoulders to dry them before you pull your pants back on. George dares Ron to walk back to the house and get food, which he reluctantly agrees to after everyone bullies him into it. By the time he gets back with a basket of pastries and jam, you’ve transitioned to mainly truths, because the well of dares has run dry. 

When it’s Hermione’s turn to ask Fred, she blushingly asks if he’s lost his virginity. 

“What, do you all think I’ve snogged every girl we know without scaring? Have a little faith, please.”

“Clever, but that’s not an answer!” slurs Hermione, pointing at him and grinning. “Have you actually had sex before, or do you just talk a big game?” 

“Well, have you?” you ask, laughing as he tries to bluster out an answer.

“”Course I have. Ask anybody. Everybody must think George and I are the male sluts of the century, the way you people talk.” 

“Still not an answer!” you say, looking at him mischievously. 

“How’s this for an answer, then?” he retorts, pulling you to his waist and kissing you on the lips melodramatically, throwing you up against the rock, practically fucking but for the clothes. What’s probably thirty seconds of kissing at most feels like an hour. Everyone goes “Oooooh!” and when he finally lets you go you’re flabbergasted, but you recover your senses.

“Point taken, then. Alright Freddie, your turn,” you say, straightening your clothes and trying not to look like you enjoyed that. 

“I dare Hermione to let us play hide and seek, for fuck’s sake,” he says, lazily.

“Ugh! I might be drunk but I’m not letting anyone stumble around alone in the pitch black plastered out of your mind. Ask me a real question!” 

“What if we weren’t alone?” Harry asks, looking around. “I mean, we could go in pairs or little groups. Like team hide and seek, basically.”

“I call Fred and George!” you cry, throwing your arms around their sweaty necks. 

“Fine, but please be careful. And everyone should be on a team with at least one person with a wand,” says Hermione, who teams up with Ron. That leaves Harry and Ginny on the last team.

George produces his wand and casts an illumination spell.

“Not it!” You shout, immediately echoed by Ginny. 

“Alright, we’ll count to 50” says Hermione, but Harry and George protest until they finally agree to 3 minutes.

Fred tears off into the woods and you and George follow, bushes thwacking you in the face, vines snagging at your ankles. You break through the brush into a field, panting, and stop for a break. 

“Where are we going?” you ask, looking around. “And where are we?” 

“No idea!” Fred says gleefully. 

“What about over there?” George nods towards a patch of grass and trees down in a glenn. You lope down hill through high grass and crash to a halt in the stand of trees, crouching low. Fred huddles next to you and George clambers clumsily into one of the trees, flattening himself into one of its crooks.

You can feel your stomach churning after your run, but you manage to successfully push down the acrid taste rising in your throat. Above you, you hear George belch, and just manage to slip out of the way as he spits a pitiful glob of vomit to the ground.

“Oi, we’re down here, you lout,” hisses Fred, ducking.

“Look at the state of you,” you drawl, bumping into Fred as you readjust around George’s vomit. He groans from his spot up in the tree and lies back down sleepily. To your surprise, you feel the urge to pull Fred closer rather than pushing him away. The earthy smell of the forest floor calms your stomach, and you find your mind wandering to his lips, his hands on your waist and neck. Buzzing with drunken impulsivity, you wrap your arms around his slender waist and pull him to sit beside you. He looks surprised, but readily slouches against the tree trunk next to you. You can feel his chest rising and falling with each breath. The air is still and cool in that settled way characteristic of the night.

Overhead, you think you can hear George beginning to snore. 

“Freddie-” you begin, but before you can say a word, his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. You push him down and roll over so that you’re straddling him, gripping his jaw in one hand as you kiss him, hard, then gently. His lips are softer and more relaxed than they were when he kissed you earlier, and his body less certain. There’s no false bravado in him now, and you bite his lip gently, your tongues barely batting together. You reach down to unzip his pants but he pulls back.

“Y/N- I- Look, I may have lied earlier,” he says, his face flush with desire and embarrassment. You look at him quizzically, your drunken mind not connecting all the dots. 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t… done this before. I’ve only ever kissed. Although I’ve done quite a lot of that.” he says quietly. You blink.

“Oh. Oh! You total freak. Why go to all that trouble to convince everyone you have?”

“Have you considered that maybe I just wanted to kiss you?”

This shuts you up. He pulls you back down to kiss you again, this time on the cheek, on the forehead, the neck. 

“Don’t do anything you don’t want to do,” you say carefully, brushing a bead of sweat from his forehead. 

“No… no, I’m ready. I want this now,” he says, tugging at your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it into the grass, the game of hide and seek forgotten. Let the shirt be a warning flag to any nosy passerby. Fred kisses across your chest. 

“Freddie, we’re drunk,” you remind him, your breathing growing heavier as his tongue flicks across your nipple.

“I want you,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck in between kisses. “I want you, I want you, I want you,” he says. You kiss him in reply, and move again to unzip his pants. You feel his hard member ready to burst out of his jeans, and it sends a thrill through you.

You had considered that you might one day wind up with Fred or George, and honestly, you had figured it would be on some less-than-sober whim like this, but you never really pictured it. You certainly never imagined Fred like this, innocent and tame, hoping for someone else to take the lead.

“Will you show me how?”

“Yes,” you breathe your reply into his mouth.

“Will you go slow?” he asks sweetly, his coy submissiveness sending tremors through your body. 

“Yes. Come closer.”

In the morning, you groggily open your eyes at the sound of birds chirping. You sit up, your head throbbing, and look around. Above you and a few feet to your right, George is sleeping soundly on his belly in the flat convergence of an oak tree’s branches. To your left, shirtless and smeared with dirt, is Fred curled on top of his cloak, also fast asleep. 

“Guess they gave up on finding us,” you mutter, running a hand through your hair to smooth it into place. You remember what happened last night well enough, although some parts are cloudier than others, and you don’t remember deciding to fall asleep at all. You suppose it just happened at some point. Your heart beats faster, wondering if you and Fred will be an item after this, or if he’ll want to keep it quiet, or if you just won’t talk about it. You’re not sure what you want, yet. It’s still purple pre-dawn in the countryside, the sun not quite peeking over the horizon yet.

You know you enjoyed yourself, and you adore Fred- as a friend, certainly. As something more? Maybe. You brush away your anxieties and trust that you’ll settle things when you’re less groggy. Suddenly, it dawns on you that you’ve got to get back to the house before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley wake up and notice your absence. You stand up as though the ground caught fire, kicking at Fred and shouting at George to get down.

You fetch your shirt from a nearby bush, and pluck a twig from Fred’s hair as he looks up, dazed.

“God, my head,” he says, squinting up at you. “What the hell time is it?”

“Never mind that, you’ll have worse than a headache if we don’t get back to the house by like, yesterday.”

“Merlin!” George exclaims, perking up and basically falling from his perch to the ground. Recovering he stands up, taking his surroundings in. “Hold on, what the hell happened to you, Fred? Where’s your shirt?”

“No time for all that, go!” you say, shoving George in the direction you suppose the house is in. You muster as fast a pace as you can and follow him, Fred scrambling to gather his cloak and tee shirt before catching up with you. With George’s back to both of you, you exchange a goofy grin and a wave of relief runs through you. He obviously doesn’t consider last night a mistake, either. You slip your hand into his and make your way into the breaking dawn.

[berrynarrybanana]

Holiday Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses

A/N: This was meant to be a blurb, but I got carried away. I honestly don’t know how I feel about it, but I wanted to post some Christmassy stuff in between now and Deck the Halls, so here’s a little something. It’s basically over a thousand words of Harry pining for some girl he just met. That seems to be my favorite trope, yeah? Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I hope that you all remember that Christmas isn’t about what you have or what you’re able to give, it’s about spending time with the people you love the most. I’m always here for you all if you need me and I love you loads. Thank you! 

Word Count: 5.1K+

Warnings: A little smut, pining, flash forward, ofc

Prompt: “You’re wearing the Santa hat, whether you like it or not” | Taken from this post here! 

It wasn’t that Harry hated Christmas. 

He loved spending time with his family, drinking mulled wine and talking shit with his Mum and Sister on the couch until the morning light. He loved the Christmas cookies that everyone seemed to bake just for him. Every single one of his friends would wrap them up in cute, candy cane striped cellophane bags with a little bow as if they were worried he’d been deprived of sweets. He loved the warmth that enveloped him when he stepped into any building, dodging the cold winter winds and brutal snowflakes that hit his skin. He loved most things about the season, but he truthfully hated the actual holiday itself.

He hated the music, each song covered by about twenty different artists, (yet, they always sounded the same, somehow), playing on a loop on every single Christmas station. He hated how rude people were in the shops and on the road, as if their time was more important than anyone else's. He hated the stigma around giving expensive gifts, stressing over the perfect thing to get each of his friends. If he could, he’d give them all something homemade, but he was shit at doing anything crafty. 

His boots crunched against the snow as he walked towards his mother’s front door. 

He let himself in, kicking his shoes off before he removed his scarf and his winter coat. He could hear laughter from the kitchen, Gemma and his Mum giggling far too loud. They must have cracked into the mulled cider a little early, and truthfully, he was jealous. He’d spent the last four hours stuck in traffic listening to white Christmas over and over and over again. He shut the front door as Evie wrapped herself around his legs, her soft purring catching his attention as he glanced down at the black and white kitten. 

“Hiya, darling girl.” He crouched down, scooping her into his arms before he delivered a series of kisses over her head. “Daddy’s missed you, eh. Have you been good for your nan?”

She meowed in response, causing Harry to coo at her before he scratched under her chin. 

“That’s my girl.” He pressed another kiss to the top of her head before setting her back to the ground. 

He knew they would indulge in several cuddle sessions over the next few days, so he wasn’t worried about missing his one and only pet this holiday season. He walked through the house, finding his way into the kitchen where Gemma was tipping back a glass of dark red liquid, and his Mum was rolling out cookie dough with a bright smile on her face. What Harry wasn’t expecting, was the curly haired girl with a cookie cutter in her hand next to his Mum.

“Hello!” He called out, offering a smile as he walked over to the kitchen island. “I see we’ve started having fun already.”

“It took you forever to get here!” Gemma said defensively, picking up a chocolate kiss before tossing it at Harry. “Do you want a drink?”

“Something hot, it’s like the bloody tundra outside.” He shivered at the thought of the harsh wind, his eyes trailing back towards the new girl. 

“Stella makes the best peppermint hot chocolate you’ve ever had in your life.” Gemma groaned out, her eyes rolling back in her head. “She puts peppermint vodka in there.”

“I can make you one if you’d like?” Stella’s voice was soft and painfully american. “We’ve got a slow cooker full of hot chocolate.”

“If you don’t mind.” Harry gave her a smile as he pulled out a stool, sitting next to Gemma. “Nice to meet you, Stella. I’m Harry, by the way.”

“She knows who you are.” Gemma reached over, pinching Harry’s side. “Stella is a new transfer at work. She’s new to England, and we thought we’d show her a proper English Christmas.”

“Stella, love, you should probably find another family to spend Christmas with if you want a proper English Christmas.” Harry snorted. “Ours is half arsed at best.”

“We have a lovely Christmas, thank you.” Anne piped up, flicking flour in Harry’s direction as Stella laughed softly. “Don’t scare the poor thing off, we’ve just made her feel at home.” 

Stella turned her back, walking towards the stove.

“I suppose we do have a good time.” Harry hummed out. “I can’t wait to watch How the Grinch Stole Christmas for the millionth time.” 

“They’ve got an animated one now!” Gemma exclaimed. “We’re going to do a double feature.”

“Lovely.” Harry rolled his eyes. 

Moments later, a steaming mug of hot chocolate laced was placed in front of Harry. 

He looked down at the grinch mug before looking back up at Stella. 

“Thanks.” He offered her a smile, but she merely nodded back at him before taking her place next to Anne again. 

He watched her, sipping at his drink as Gemma and Anne chatted about some Hallmark movie that was meant to premiere at some point during the week. She wasn’t normally the type of girl that he dated, but he had to admit that she was beautiful. Her cheeks were round, a soft blush smeared over them that he assumed came from a makeup product. Her lashes were thick, and long, shadowing her hazel colored eyes. She had thick brows that seemed a little unruly, and plump lips stained with a plum colored lipstick that matched her smoky, purple eyeshadow. He wasn’t a huge fan of the plum color, but he had to admit that it brought out a lot of the warmer tones in her eyes and in her beautiful, brown skin. He also thought that it complimented the lighter strands in her curly brown hair that bounced about everytime she turned her head. 

He tried not to be too obvious with his curious gaze, but he couldn’t help it. He was almost mesmerized by her beauty, but he was more so confused by his attraction to her. She was far too quiet for his taste, her eyes cast down on the cookies she’d been cutting out for the last few minutes while everyone else chatted. 

He watched her place them on the tray carefully, obsessing over how they landed before she reached for the colored icing. He watched her pipe onto the little shapes, her tongue nestling in the corner of her mouth as her unsteady hands worked diligently on the cookies. 

This was a Styles family Christmas, and the Styles were a rowdy and messy bunch. He’d never seen his Mum or Gemma put that much work into sugar cookies before, and it was almost painful to watch her perfect each and every one before she slipped the tray in the oven. He watched her reach for the cheeky little chicken shaped oven timer that Gemma bought when his Mum fist moved into this house. In all of those years, he’d never seen anyone actually use it. 

“Did you hear me, my little turtle dove?” Anne brushed her hand over Harry’s back as he sipped at his cocoa. “They’re calling for a huge storm this weekend, are you packed for that?”

“I left some stuff here the last time I was around.” He turned his head, smiling back at her. “I think I should be fine if I get stuck with you lot.” 

“Good.” She nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’ve missed you.” 

“Missed you too, Mumma.” He wrapped an arm around her back, pulling her into a hug. 

The warm scent of vanilla and musk greeted his senses, flooding him with comfort and nostalgic memories of cuddling with Mum on the couch. He missed having her around him. He missed having his best friend around to comfort him when he needed it the most. When he let go of her, his heart sank a little in his chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head before moving back to work on more cookie dough. 

“Why are you making so many cookies?” He asked, brows furrowing as he brushed his fingers over the sickly green mug with the cartoon characters face on it. “Do you plan on feeding an army?”

“No, but Stella suggested that we take some down to the local homeless shelter on Christmas Eve.” Anne smiled over at the girl. “That’s her family's Christmas tradition, and since she’s not with them this year, we thought we’d make it happen for her here.”

“Thank you again, for agreeing to this.” Stella smiled at Anne. “It really means the world to me, and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You’re a part of the family now, dear.” Anne teased. “Even if you’re not spending Christmas with us, this little tradition of yours has been officially integrated into our own Christmas tradition. We’ll always have a little bit of Stella with us during the Holiday’s now, eh.”

Stella laughed at that, reaching her arms out to wrap Anne in a hug. 

Harry almost felt a little jealous at how seamlessly she fit in here. 

“If you keep staring at her, she’s gonna want to run back to America.” Gemma nudged her elbow into his side. “We get it, she’s hotter than you.”

“Oh, shut up.” Harry rolled his eyes at Gemma as she smirked. “I wasn’t staring.”

“Okay, Casanova.” She snorted. “Whatever you say. 

**

Harry wasn’t sure why he was hard. 

He just wanted to close his eyes and go the fuck to sleep. 

After a long day of travel, and an even longer evening filled with Harry pulling down Christmas decorations from the attic, he just wanted to sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to taking the annual trip to the Christmas Tree Farm tomorrow. Since Robin passed, Harry was the only man in the family, which meant that he often had to do the heavy lifting. He found that most of his strength lay in his core, despite the amount of lifting he’d done to buff up his arms, and he wasn’t looking forward to tossing a tree on top of his car while everyone watched. 

Truthfully, that was the worry that should have been plaguing his mind as he lay in bed. Instead, his mind was lost in hazel colored waves that crashed on dark plum shores. He couldn’t stop thinking about Stella’s eyes or her perfectly shaped lips. He spent most of his night watching her drink from a wine glass, her cheeks turning a shade darker with each joke that she shared with his family. If there was one thing that he was shocked about, it was the dry humor that tumbled from her perfect plum colored lips. She was a funny girl, despite being quiet, and he laughed at every single joke she told without shame. 

As he shifted his about, trying to avoid any further thoughts about her lips, the tip of his cock brushed against the warm flannel of his pajama pants. He let out a throaty groan, reaching down to push his palm into the crotch of his pants to soothe the pressure building in his lower belly. He couldn’t jack off to the thought of Gemma’s new friend, it would be awful, and it would surely land him on the naughty list. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to picture her lipstick staining his lower belly, his upper thighs, and eventually...the shaft of his cock. But after a few minutes of trying not to think about it, that was the only thing he could see behind closed eyes. 

With an annoyed grumble, he dipped his hand into his pajama pants, tugging his cock out while his free hand pushed the band of the pants down his hips. He licked over his dry lips, making a mental note to buy some chapstick tomorrow as he gave himself one, swift stroke. He bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to moan as he brushed the pad of his thumb over the weeping slit of his cock. He was pathetic, dripping down his cock over a girl that he barely knew. He couldn’t believe that he was being that guy right now, tugging at his cock desperately to the thought of a beautiful girl on her knees for him. He wanted so badly to have her there, whispering filthy words in that gentle tone she had, encouraging him to cum on her tongue. 

When he did cum, her name spilled from his lips. 

His chest was heaving as he came down, the tinkling of Stella’s laughter filling his ears. 

Seconds later, he heard her bid goodnight to Gemma before the door next to his own shut. 

He was totally fucked for this girl. 

**

The next morning, he didn’t expect to see Stella sitting at the breakfast bar when he came downstairs. 

He stopped in the doorway, his cheeks growing warm as he looked over her sweater covered back. Thoughts of her name tumbling from his lips last night flooded back as he looked at her. She was wearing a lavender colored, cable knit sweater, and her curls were tied up in a messy ponytail on top of her head. Most of the curls had fallen out, covering up some of her neck alongside her fingers. Her cheek was propped on her palm, her gaze focused on her laptop as she lifted a mug of steaming liquid up to her mouth with her other hand. 

Harry cleared his throat, walking toward the stove so he could put the kettle on. No one else in the house would be up for hours, but Harry couldn’t turn off his internal alarm clock no matter how he tried. He also hoped that he might find a moment of peace from the very girl sitting in his Mother’s kitchen. She haunted his dreams, her face playing on the silver screen in his mind all night long. He hated how infatuated he was with this woman that he barely even knew. 

“Morning.” She spoke up first, her voice scratchy and tired. “Did you sleep well?”

“Splendid, yeah.” He nodded, filling the kettle with water. “You?” 

“I’ve slept better, but that’s to be expected.” She said softly. “I spent a little bit of time on a skype call with my brother’s, so I was up longer than expected.” 

“But you’re up fairly early this morning, aren’t you?” He put the kettle on the stovetop before turning around, his eyes landing on hers. “Why’s that?”

“I wake up this early anyways.” She smiled at him. “I usually like to go for a walk in the morning to wake myself up.”

“That’s nice.” He lifted his hand, scratching at the stubble on his jaw. “I usually like to go for a swim or a run in the morning, too.”

“Where do you swim?” She asked. 

“There’s a men’s swimming club not too far from my home in London.” He said. “It’s freezing cold, but you get used to it after a while.”

“Jeeze, you swim outside in this weather?” She lifted her head from her palm, her eyes growing wide. “I could never.” 

“It’s an acquired taste.” He chuckled softly. “What are you working on?”

“A new piece for my blog.” She said. “I started out using it as a diary of sorts, but people apparently love reading about the disaster that is my life.”

“I’m sure it’s not all horrible.” He hoped that he sounded encouraging and not rude. “You seem like a lovely, and positive person.”

“I try to be.” She shrugged, reaching for her mug. “I could say the same about you.”

“I try to be.” He smiled at her. “Would you like some breakfast?” 

“Oh, I was actually thinking of popping down to this little bakery Gemma told me about-” 

“Mandeville’s.” His heart picked up, a smile stretching across his lips. “Had my first job there.”

“Yeah, that’s the one.” She laughed, wrapping both hands around her mug as she leaned back in the barstool. “I figured I’d go grab some pastries for everyone. I know it’s kind of a busy day with the Christmas Tree Farm, so I thought it would be best if your Mum didn’t feel the need to cook.”

“She would love that.” Harry said. “Maybe I could go with you? We could both get our walks in, and I can see Mary before she hunts me down and drags me to the bakery.”

“I would love the company.” She smiled. “But enjoy your tea first, I’ll just be working on this until we’re ready to go.”

“Cheers.” He nodded, watching her eyes drop to her computer screen. 

She wasn’t wearing a stitch of makeup this morning, and Harry almost wished that she was. 

He wished that she had covered up her beautiful, freckle covered skin so that he didn’t fall harder for her beautiful face. He wished that she was hiding away those little blemishes that made him swoon, because she was actually a human after all, not some angel sent down from heaven to torture him. He wished that she covered those beautiful lips in that plum lipstick again so that he could imagine kissing it off of her. He hated the feeling stirring inside of his belly, the butterflies a tell tale sign of his feelings. 

He had a crush on Stella. 

And there was nothing he could do to stop himself from falling for her. 

**

Stella’s gloves were precious.

They were a bright red, little snowflakes and reindeer stitched into them. 

She offered to let Harry borrow a pair of her gloves, claiming that she’d brought plenty of pairs for the winter, but he politely declined before shoving his hands in his pockets. She looked so cozy, wrapped up in her winter coat with a beanie on top of her head and a matching scarf tied around her neck. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and cuddle her so that they could both stay nice and toasty on their walk. He wanted to kiss her bare cheeks, paying special attention to each freckle on her skin as the winter sun cast over them. 

He was so infatuated with her that it was almost embarrassing. 

“I can’t even imagine what it was like, growing up in a place like this.” Stella turned her head towards Harry, the tip of her nose a little red. “It’s so picturesque.”

“It’s alright.” He gave her a small smile. “I always wanted to get out when I was a kid.”

“Of course you did, we all do.” She chuckled. “I think everyone should run away for a little while, it really gives you all of the tools you need to really appreciate your hometown when you go back. I don’t know that I’ll ever move back to my hometown, but when I visit it, I feel a little bit more appreciative of the pivotal role it had in raising me.”

“I feel the same way about Cheshire.” Harry nodded. “It’s a big part of who I was, and that helped make me who I am. I wouldn’t be the same without this place.”

“Exactly.” She said. 

“So where exactly are you from?” He asked. “I mean, obviously America-”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, narrowing her eyes playfully, her lips pursed. “I don’t think it is.”

“It’s a neon, flashing sign above your head kind of obvious, love.” He snorted. “But I can’t place what your accent is.”

“It’s not really an accent.” Stella shrugged, turning her attention back to the sidewalk. “I grew up on the road for most of my life, but my family settled in Georgia when I was about twelve.”

“Interesting.” He said. “How did you like Georgia?” 

“I didn’t, at first.” She laughed. “I hated it so much. I loved being on the road with my family, traveling places like Hawaii and Los Angeles. When we moved to the south, I despised everything about it. It was so plain and boring compared to places we’d lived before. But like I said, moving away has made me learn to love it more when I go back.”

“How long have you been gone?” He asked. 

“About three years.” She said. “I lived in Amsterdam for a year, and then Paris, and now I’m here.”

“Which place is your favorite?” He asked. “Be honest with me, now. You don’t have to say London just because you’re trying to get on my good side.” 

Stella tossed her head back, laughing loudly. 

“I think it’s truthfully London, Harry.” 

His name sounded like honey falling from her lips. 

“Why is that?” He asked. 

“Because I’ve found my chosen family.” She turned back, giving him a smile that thawed out the chill creeping up from his toes. “Starting with Gemma, of course. She was the first person to take me under her wings, and I’m so happy that I have her in my life. Then I started to find other people, and we all became this really close knit group of friends that felt more like family than my actual family does. I don’t know how I’ll ever leave this place.” 

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” He said softly. “Maybe this is home.”

Please don’t go, Stella. 

Stay here with me forever. 

Love me. 

“My contract is up at the end of the year, but we’ll just have to see how things go.” She said. “I might be convinced to stay.”

“Well, I guess I have a lot of work to do.” He chuckled.

“Why are you so keen on me staying?” She asked him, her brows raising as she gave him a knowing smirk. “Do you have a crush on me, Styles?”

His cheeks grew hot against the cold wind. 

“Alright now, don’t let that go to your head.” He grumbled, tucking his neck into his scarf as Stella’s smile grew wider. “It’s all your bloody fault, you know?”

“What have I done?” She laughed louder. “I’m just me.”

“That’s exactly it.” He let out a breathy chuckle. “You’re you, Stella.”

**

The Christmas Tree Farm was going well. 

That was up until Gemma decided that they absolutely needed to take a family picture in front of the big Christmas tree, Stella included. They had picked up a few little trinkets and such while walking around the market included in the farm. Anne picked up a reindeer headband with bells stitched in, plopping it on her head the second she found it. Gemma found an elf’s hat with little ears attached to the side, putting it on her hair before fussing with her hair. Stella found a crown made of poinsettias that she plopped on top of her curls, the red and gold working perfectly with her red lipstick and gold eyeshadow. Harry, however, wasn’t exactly in the spirit. 

“You’re wearing the bloody santa hat, whether you like it or not!” Gemma shoved it towards him with a frown. “If you stand next to Stella, you’ll like Mr. and Mrs. Claus!” 

“Shut up, Gemma.” Harry sneered, snatching the hat from her hands. “I didn’t tell you about that so you could throw it in my face!” 

“Well, I’m doing it for the greater good of our family photo!” She glared at him. “Put that hat on before I shove it on your head myself.”

“Fine.”

“Are you two alright?” Stella smirked, adjusting her crown on her head as she walked up to Harry and Gemma. “Santa is still putting people on the naughty list you know?” 

“If anyone’s going to be on the naughty list, it’s Harry.” Gemma tossed her arm around Stella’s shoulder with a proud smirk. “He’s being a pain in the arse.”

“Is the hat really necessary to the photo?” He groaned, dropping his head back. 

“Yes.” Stella and Gemma said at the same time. 

“Alright, alright.” He groaned, tugging the hat over his curls. “Are you both happy now?”

“Ecstatic.” Stella smiled brightly at Harry. “I think you look handsome.”

“I’m going to just point out…” Gemma pulled her arm from around Stella, tucking her hands behind her back. “That there’s mistletoe hanging from that piece of wood above your heads.” 

“Gemma-” Harry’s eyes grew wide. 

“And I’m promptly going to walk away.” She smiled at Stella. “Meet us at the tree in ten minutes.” 

“Gemma-” Stella held her hand out as Gemma walked away, her eyes growing just as wide as Harry’s were. “What a sneaky little elf.” 

“Tell me about it.” Harry shifted, adjusting the hat on his head. “Devious little-”

“Well, I guess we can’t break tradition.” Stella looked up at Harry, shuffling forward slowly with a little smirk on her lips. “I mean, what would Santa say if we didn’t kiss under the mistletoe?”

Harry licked over his bottom lip, his fingers twitching. 

“You really want to kiss me?”

“I might.” Stella’s toes were almost touching Harry’s now. “But the question is, do you want to kiss me?”

“I do, yeah.” He nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since I laid eyes on you, Stella.”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” She raised her brows. “Now is your chance, Mr. Grinch, lay one on me.”

Harry lifted his hands, pressing them to Stella’s face hesitantly before he lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. It was a gentle peck, one that anyone would share underneath the mistletoe, but Harry wanted more from Stella. It seemed that she wanted more as well, her arms sliding around his neck as she pressed up on her toes. He let his hands fall to her waist as the kiss grew more intense, his hands holding onto her tightly as she brushed her tongue over his lower lip. He tried his best not to smile into the kiss, letting her have what she wanted by parting his lips. When her tongue slipped over his, he let out a tiny moan, gripping her hips tighter. 

“Get a room, you two!” Harry groaned, pressing his forehead to Stella’s. 

“Gemma, I swear to god-” Harry turned his head, whipping his santa hat off before he threw it in her direction. “Go bother someone else!” 

Stella laughed, ducking her forehead down to Harry’s chest as he rubbed his thumbs over her side gently. He felt her body shaking underneath his hands, his heart hammering in his chest when he realized just how close they actually were. He turned his head back, lifting a hand up to guide Stella’s chin up. He pressed his lips to hers once, twice, three more times before she pressed her palms to Harry’s chest. 

“We’ll never stop if we don’t move away from the mistletoe.” Stella whispered. “And I think Gemma might physically pull us apart if we miss that Christmas picture.”

“Let it be known that I’m only partaking in this picture because I want to stand next to you for as long as I can.” Harry smiled. “I think I have a little more than a crush on you, Stella.” 

“I think I have more than a crush on you, too.”

**

“Madeline, stop right there.” Stella let out a frustrated sigh as she looped her arm under the baby carrier, her eyes falling down to the sleeping infant. “Milo, promise Mumma that you’ll listen when you get to that age?”

“Give him here.” Harry brushed a kiss over Stella’s temple, his hand massaging her lower back gently. “You go catch up with speed racer, okay? I’ll be right behind you with the baby and the diaper bag.”

“Thank you.” Stella turned her head, puckering her lips out. “I love you.” 

“I love you.” He hummed out. “And our beautiful babies, even if one of them has a death wish and two left feet.” 

Stella snorted out a laugh, pulling her arm from the carrier before she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “I better go help her up the stairs.”

“Please, we don’t need a repeat of last year.” Harry smiled. 

“Yeah, I would like to avoid a trip to A&E this year.” Stella snorted. 

He watched Stella walk over to an antsy Madeline, her pigtails bouncing about as she jumped from foot to foot in excitement. Harry chuckled softly at his daughter, amused by her excitement. He was happy that she found so much joy in Christmas, just like her Mother did. He watched Stella hold a hand out, waiting for Madeline to take it before they both conquered the brick steps outside of his Mum’s house. When they got to the top, Stella lifted Madeline up, kissing over her cheeks as their daughter giggled. Harry lifted Milo’s car seat from the base, his eyes falling down to the six month old with hazel eyes and soft cheeks just like his Mother’s. 

“We’ve got our hands full with those two, mate.” Harry pulled the soft, wintery blue blanket up to Milo’s chin, tucking it around his shoulders so that he would stay warm. “Gonna keep us both on our toes, I know it.” 

Milo cooed up at him, causing Harry to smile wider before he ducked his head down to kiss his son's soft cheeks. 

“Let’s get you into Nan’s before you turn into a popsicle, my love.” Harry said. “Mumma won’t be happy if we have to spend Christmas thawing you out.”

As Harry made his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but remember five Christmases ago. 

He was walking up the exact same steps on his own, unaware of the magic that was waiting inside for him. He was unaware that the girl Gemma brought home for Christmas would one day be his wife, and the mother of his two beautiful children. He had no idea that they would spend long nights together, planning their future and holding each other tight. He opened the front door to his Mum’s house, smiling at the sound of Madeline telling his Mother a story with animated gestures, her curly pigtails bouncing around as Stella tried to wrangle her jacket off. 

“And then Daddy told me we could get a puppy next year if I was good enough!” Madeline squealed out as Harry shut the door. 

He dodged the steely gaze he got from Stella after she heard the word puppy.

“Sorry.” He mouthed over at her, causing her to shake her head as she tried to fight off a smile. 

“You’re a menace.” She mouthed back. “But I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” He said it outloud, his heart soaring in his chest. 

Stella gave him a heart warming smile, Madeline’s coat still in her hands. 

Seconds later, Milo let out a tiny cry causing Harry to snap back into dad mode. 

He rested the carseat on the ground, carefully pulling his son out before pressing a kiss to his chubby little cheeks. As if Gemma could sense his presence, she barreled into the living room with her eyes set on Milo. 

“There’s my little man.” She held her hands out, wiggling them as Harry rolled his eyes. “You get to see him every day, Harry. Pass him over to his auntie.” 

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes. “Please be careful with him, I kind of like this one.”

“Piss off.” Gemma snorted out, sliding Milo onto her hip before pressing a bright red kiss mark into his forehead. “Has Daddy told you that without auntie Gem, you wouldn’t exist?” 

“Gemma-” 

“Can you believe that?” She looked up at Harry, a hint of something nostalgic and genuine sparkling in her green eyes. “If I’d never brought Stella to family Christmas, we wouldn’t have two beautiful babies to dote over every year.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what life would be like without them.” He whispered. “Thank you, Gemma.”

“Harry, I really didn’t-”

“Gemma.” He said her name sternly, pressing his palm to her bicep. “Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” She said softly, her eyes watering. “Now, if you could do me a favor and bring a hot friend around, I’d really appreciate it.”

“I’ll see what I can manage.” He let out a wet chuckle, his own eyes watering. 

“What are we managing?” Stella wrapped her arms around Harry. 

“We owe Gem a favor.” He sniffled, turning head to press a kiss to Stella’s forehead. 

“Why are you crying, baby?” Stella frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing at all.” He pressed his lips to hers, softly brushing his nose against the tip of hers as his. “Just so incredibly grateful to have you in my life, that’s all.”

“You’re so sappy around the holiday’s.” Stella brushed her palm over his belly. “I love you, Mr. Styles.” 

“I love you, too, Mrs. Styles.” He said. “Merry Christmas, Darling.”

“Merry Christmas.” 

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Dress Codes,Nooky And  Cock Blocks

Masterlist

Henry tries to be a white knight and realizes Kal is to smart for his own good.

Request/Prompt: Henry and Kal meets you from work after having a bad day. Playing with Kal to make Henry jealous. Shutting kal out for some nooky but Kal sits outside the door barking and howling.

Warnings: Smutty Almost Smut! Fluff, Swearing

A/N: so this has combined two ideas one of which is from the lovely @being-worthy This was going to be a Pooh bear chapter two but hasn't quite fit the bill. Anyway I hope you all enjoy.  P.S I 100% belive Kal would be a little shit!!!

Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters​ @thatgirly81​ @angelofthorr @iloveyouyen​ @sofiebstar​ @thefangirlsblog​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @loserrlauraa​ @tumblrnewby​ @isitmine​ @tinabean37​

This was a fucking piss take your manager was an asshole! You huffed about the office still trying to process the stupidity he just fucking spouted at you. You moved to the ladies room phone in hand ready to vent locking yourself in a stall fingers poised to rant in a long ass text message but you froze. Henry was home well at the gym to be more specific. He was over the moon having just snagged the role of Geralt of Rivia and had been working tirelessly on bulking up for the role especially now that he was getting the dates for shooting. You paused taking a deep breath. No. You cant vent to him and ruined his day to. You growled and moved leaving the bathroom slamming the door thankful that you only had another hour, at least the prick had the decency to wait until the end of the day.

You through your phone down into the bag sitting at your desk for a few moments. You cast your eyes over the computer screen seeing the little bimbo...His little bimbo Stacey there was an office romance between your asshat of a manager and this little blonde. She ran about the office in small tight skirts hair immaculate and thick makeup smeared across her face and fuck me glasses that were an accessory not prescription like yours. She had a snug fitted blouse and pencil skirt on flitting about the office in some dangerous looking heels. More feminine? Was you supposed to jump up and say 'yes sir of course Sir, anything to keep this job sir' then flutter your lashes at him?.

Fuck that, and fuck this be more feminine bullshit, there was no written dress code and as far as things had gone you were doing your job pretty damn well and you didn't need heels to do it!

You scowled seeing the blonde slip out followed by your manager it mus be time fore their discrete get away a make out in the copier room...How original. You sighed clicking your mouse scanning through the next lot of appointments...No more today but there was a shit tonne tomorrow. You sighed getting down...Was your job really on the line over skirts,  makeup and heels? Sure you were on probation but they couldn't sack you for breaking a non existent dress code...Could they.honestly you wouldn't put it past Dave he seemed to have some fucked up traditional views.

Your attention was quickly drawn down to your phone buzzing you smiled seeing it was Henry quickly tapping the notification.

'Bbe you still at the office?? Miss you! 😘😘' You smiled softly heaving a deep breath then began typing.

'Yep still here not for long though finish in 1hr thank god 😘😘 u 2 at the gym still??' You sent the text and got a reply pretty quick you smiled he must have left the gym to reply so quick. Your thoughts wandered a daydream of the huge glorious man puffed out and sweaty ugh yes that's what you needed right now your man to just ruin you fuck the stress and doubt right out of you!. Your eyes scanned the new text he had sent pulljng you out of your raunchy thoughts.

'No just left walking Kal around the park he got a bit excited need to wear him out, so have a good day?'

'😂 good luck with that. And its been okay...G2g shopping after apparently I need to dress more feminine😒😒 so will be home late' You frowned hearing the two love birds enter the office again wrapped up around one another professionally you rolled your eyes as the blonde pulled away from your manager giggling and made her way to the computer opposite you instantly reaching for her compact mirror trying to correct the smeared lipstick across her face. Your phone pinged and you looked down face lighting up a little seeing the anger emojis. Henry felt the same ass you.

'😡😡🤬WTF? wats tht sppsd 2 mean?' you cringed maybe you should have just kept your mouth shut but it was too late now you sighed trying to placate him.

'I need to wear skirts and shit...be an office bimbo no big deal🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just get a few skirts thts all' you typed back his reply was immediate almost as if he'd been typing the same time as you. Wincing you prepared yourself for the worse, Henry was a very protective man and you knew he hated the whole gender roles thing.

'😡😡You dnt need makeup and shit!! ur gorgeous dnt u listen to that wanker!! Can't u leave early?? Say ur going shopping?? Just get out of there! please love dnt let this get 2 u!!🥺🥺 I love u, ur perfect!!😍😘😘😍' You grinned got flushing rereading the words a warmth in your chest. You knew that he meant every word. Stacey looked over with a smirk snapping the compact shut and pointed a false nail in your direction.

"Oh? Is that a blush? Who are you texting? Someone cute?" You flicked your eyes up to her you didn't have anything against her per say but you were different people, she was all Instagram, kardashians and trending and you were all gaming, books and cosy pajamas. You never really spoke to her if you could help it.

"Err yeah...My boyfriend" you admitted looking down seeing another text from him. Another round of compliments and reassuring words lit up your screen.

'I mean it bbe I know u! dnt beat urself up over it! Dont u let him get 2 u!😘😘' you smiled softly yes he did know you and he knew this had not only made you angry but also insecure. You thought you looked good at work you always made a point to look 'put together' but it wasn't enough?

"Ooo was that him again? You never told me you had a boyfriend! Is he new? How long have you been together? What does he do? Whats he saying!?" You gulped as she got up quickly scuttling around the desk as fast as she could in her heels and skirt.

"We've been together a few years...He's just asking me to leave early and catch diner with him but I don't think Dave would like that..." Stacey's face lit up and she beamed at you. She was happy to have something else to gossip about.

"Oh! that’s so sweet~ he wants to steal you away for dinner! You know I wish Dave would do that but he only really pays attention to me at work....So does this sweet mystery man have a name?" You looked up at her tilting your phone away a little so she didn't see Henry's on going threats of 'coming down there and teaching Dave some manners by ripping his tongue out his ass' you shook your head as you caught the ass end of a long text full of emojis...You sort of regret teaching him the meanings of them....Was that an eggplant in the middle?.

"Henry...His name is Henry and he's an actor" Stacey squealed cupping her face completely excited for some reason.

"Oh that's so cute! You know its always you shy ones that nab yourselves the boho guys...You know I always wanted to date the 'boho' type myself but never did, they were all to....Just not my type I like clean cut guys, you know ones who fill out a suit" You squinted what the fuck was she getting at? You schooled your features standing taller quickly and made your own little dig.

"Like Dave?" she flushed and nodded excitedly missing the whole sarcastic droll over your words. She clapped her hands completely missing the fact you were poking fun at the scrawny 'stud' sleazeball who Henry could easily snap over his thigh if he wanted to.

"Yes just like my Dave~! Ugh anyway do you have a pic...Come ooon! Let me see your man~" you sighed tilting your head to her...She was pretty harmless...And dippy so it shouldn't do any harm she didn't strike you as the type of person to watch Henry's movies so shouldn't recognize him. You nodded sweetly it was actually a little fun you rarely got to show off your man,  most people who knew him knew you were dating. You twisted the phone eying the screen and froze seeing the last texts he sent you whilst you spoke to Stacey.

'Have you got out early??🧐🧐'

'Babe don't ignore me!😤😤 Is he still there!?😡'

'Woman you better answer me! Stop ignoring me bbe it wont help😤😤'

'Im serious y/n do I need to chat with him? Do you want me to help?🧐🧐'

'Look out the window'

"Oh hell no!" you huffed out under your breath then stood up scrabbling to the large office window Stacey followed you alarmed. You freaked and quickly opened the window poking your head out to scream at your sweet but very dappy boyfriend. As irritated as the texts were he didn't look it, well until you really looked he was tense and it wasn't just because Kal was puling excitedly.

"Oh my god?! HENRY?! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!....GET OUT OF THE GOD DAMNED ROAD!!" lone behold when you looked down you saw Henry standing there with a huge bouquet of Roses and a bag you suspected held a box of chocolates, Kal was barking up at you spinning in circles and jumping up super excited almost dragging the huge man over in all the excitement. It would seem the walk was not enough to wear out the bear. Henry grinned up at you you heard Stacey from beside you gasp.

"Holy shit is that your boyfriend??" you turned to her and smiled smugly to her nodding then glanced back down to him seeing him quickly navigate the people bustling around the car park heading for the doors. You froze. You can't let him up here he sounded angry earlier...He'd kill Dave. You ran back to your desk quickly logging off the pc and snatching up your bag.

"Where do you think your going y/n?" Dave called after you you stopped seeing him there arms crossed giving you the filthiest look he could muster seeing your bag slung over your arm then there was the distinct buzzing of someone Henry at the door trying to be buzzed in. You pointed to the door opening our mouth to fake sickness or something but was interrupted.

"Oh Dave leave her alone...All the times she's here early let her go early for once, we don't need her anymore today and it means we get the office to ourselves for an hour~" your eyes bugged out as Stacey came to your aid fluttering her lashes to your manager. He heaved a sigh and nodded to the door in a 'get out of here' motion.

You smiled quickly darting out down the stairs to the ground floor seeing Henry standing there unimpressed finger holding the button down in one long irritating ring. You shook your head at him through the glass as he held the button.

You slapped the exit button opening the door and Henry tried darting past you into the building chest puffed shoulders ready to give your boss a piece of his mind but you caught the frightening man by his ridiculous bulging bicep. You spun with him digging your heels into the worn carpet.

"No no no! Henry no!" he carried on to the stairs dragging you with him passing you the roses and Kal's lead as the dog bounced around you both yipping like the over excited pup he was. Henry had hoped filling your hands would give him time to jump up a few steps out of your reach so he could have a chat with Dave about this whole misogynistic bullshit. Henry swore when you scampered behind him hooking your arms around his forearm and leant back, if he moved you'd drop like a rock and up the few steps as you both were, you'd hurt yourself. He stopped heaving a deep sigh looking to you.

"Just five minuet's babe is all I need! fucking feminine my ass he just wants to oogle your peach of an ass!! And that's not- that ass is mine!! fucking no one NO ONE fucking upsets my baby!" Your body flushed skin prickling at the shear alpha tone the possessive growl that seeped into his words made you tremble swallowing dryly you managed to shake it off and focused on the task at hand fucking could come later for now you needed to stop him from ripping your manager a new one. You moved crouching down bearing your weight down giggling at him as he still tried to thunder up the stairs. Kal helped to pulling at his lead it was a joint effort.

"Henn love?! I'll be sacked if you go up there and make Dave piss himself! Please lets just go home it's Friday I can find a few things over the week end for now can we please leave" he stopped and looked up to the brown ceiling and flickering light sigh he clicked his tongue then looked to you slowly with a heavy breath.

"....Fine, but next time I'm having him!" you smiled finding his protective side arousing your tummy clenching just knowing you big strong man could rinse the little twat upstairs made your pussy clench you always had a thing about strong men and Henry was the most physically fit you'd ever met. You somehow managed to coax him out of the door in the direction of home taking a detour picking up a Chinese on the way.

You giggled rolling around the floor with Kal. after a quiet dinner and snuggle with Henry you had been ushered away so he could do his nightly reading of his new script.You didn't mind at all you loved seeing him so invested in his roles. you caught a glimpse of the red roses sitting proudly in a glass vase on the fireplace almost blocking the view of the tv but not quite. You loved this, just being home with your favorite boys enjoy a nice quiet night in. you scoffed mocking kal who was pulling hard on the black rope trying to out witt you with quick flicks of his head, playing tug with Kal was a workout huge as he was he had the weight and strength to out match even Henry. You did not stand a chance just holding onto the black rope hoping to slow him down but he was full of energy today.

Henry was sitting on the sofa feet up reading his witcher script pen in hand as he read his page, one a night was the deal. But honestly trying to pull him away from this particular script was a hell of a job fair enough he was trying to memorize lines and scribble down alternatives in the margins. It was sweet how excited he got, he already knew the character in and out so could already tweak things around so it felt like Geralt. He was happy had been chasing the role for a while so you didn't mind that preparing for it was taking up most of his time. but you were still horny from earlier and wouldn't complain to a night of nooky. But alas Henry was drawn in by the script and you were trying to find other ways to distract yourself from the bubbling arousal in your loins, like playing with Kal. But that’s not to say you wasn't going to tease your man, there were ways to get his attention~

You smirked putting a plan into action bending lower wriggling your ass, craning back so your shorts rode up just that little bit more. Then once in place you squealed loud gaining the mans attention as Kal tugged dragging you across the floor growling playfully bouncing his weight back jerking you around, it was only then that Henry grunted in annoyance, your voice had been high he loved you keeping Kal entertained he really did, but sometimes he needed a little quiet. Especially when he was trying to concentrate.

"You know if I keep this up I'll have bigger muscles then you~" you giggled out a you tried to hold your own against the mighty bear. Henry smiled and watched shaking his head as Kal dragged you under his legs to the free space on the side of the coffee table. As much as he was trying to concentrate you could never get on his nerves for long, he just loved you to damn much. Henry frowned as you were pulled again wincing anticipating an accident as Kal was definitely getting to invested in the game.

"Or a dislocated shoulder" he commented as Kal did another particularly painful looking shunt and shook his head side to side still growling loud around the toy. It was then that he looked at you properly and what he saw made the man pause and suck in a breath air getting trapped in his throat at the innocently erotic sight. Seeing you bent over any time was a pleasure but here and now? Bouncing deliciously on your knees being half dragged about the living room added another dimension to the whole thing. Your arms and back stretched out low on the floor spine arched slightly, sitting with your knees tucked under you, the bouncing making your ass jump deliciously.

Two full ass cheeks peeking out of you short shorts as Kal carried on his jerky movements. You bit your lip grunting and tugged back pulling with all your might successfully gaining a few inches which Kal stole back and more making you yelp and moan as you were sprawled out on the carpet again. This time dragged up on your knees into a position he he spent many nights enjoying to his fullest. were you doing this on purpose? he wouldn't put it past you...Maybe you needed a fuck, a proper fuck.

Henry couldn't help the twitching in his groin, the first tremors as he got a front row seat to the two perfect globes of your ass seemingly clapping against one another with the shorts acting like a thong shucked up your ass. Fuck you wasn't wearing Knickers again. Little fucking minx. He lowered his feet to the floor now far to invested in watching you roll around in the tiny shorts. swept up in the way your body swayed taunting him. you turned to him with a sly smile and sent him a quick wink that he almost missed.

He gaped at you, you were doing it on purpose!! His script laid completely forgotten on his lap as he watched you turn back to Kal innocently dipping down low again shoulders to the floor stretched out taught in front of you face tucked into your arm as Kal fought you for the coveted rope. God...It had been a while since he fucked you like that. He licked his lips. Too long in the busy days since snagging the witcher role he had only had time for a two quickies. Two fumbled quickies in three weeks and they wasn't even that good. Well not his usual hour long foreplay teasing and touching then good few rounds. They were just a flurry of fast rutting motion's, less fucking more jerking trying to finish as quickly as you could just wanting that high. he bit his lip watching you watch him out of the corner of your eye definitely teasing him.

"Babe come here~" You froze and twisted your head back you knew that tone.Grinning knowing you'd got your way you looked seeing Henry eyeing you hungrily biting his lip tilting his head, legs spread wide making his thighs bulge in what should be a loose set of black shorts but actually became skin tight on this Goliath of a man. You flushed under the gaze but managed to hold into the rope not giving the still pulling pup an inch. His eyes were a dark ocean blue pupils nearly swallowing the color completely, you wondered how far you could push him. you pouted at him before teasing him further opening your legs wider letting the material of your shorts almost completely disappear.

"Henry...I'm playing with Kal-" he squinted at you then quirked a brow before shaking his head snapping shut the folder holding the script and let it drop to the floor by his foot with a decisive thump. You gulped. But didn't move instead you heaved back pulling the Akita across the floor.

"Babe...Come here Kal's had his playtime..." you rolled your eyes hearing the silent 'now I want mine' sometimes he was a man child. You twisted your head to him with a flutter of your lashes and cheeky grin.

"Well I'm playing with Kal you have to wait your turn-HEY? HENRY THAT’S CHEATING!?" You yelped as Henry quickly bolted up right and stomped on the rope whilst using his considerable size and strength to pull you up off the floor making you release the toy.

"Well that’s enough playing with Kal, time to play with me. I wont be cock blocked in my own house by the dog~" you giggled as Henry quickly began climbing the stairs laughing kicking your feet, watching as Kal stayed two steps behind rope in his mouth excitedly following his parents, you were all going to play!. It was only when the dog found himself shut out of the bedroom did he realize you were in fact not going to be playing with him anymore tonight. you could hear the indignant huff through the door.

You wriggled as Henry fell onto the bed with you wrapped around him slowly devouring each other with deep kisses tongues and teeth roaming each other. It had been a good few weeks since you both explored one another properly. Henry pulled away chuckling at the soft scratches at the door. Kal was not impressed.

"Kal go lie down! We will be finished soon" Henry called out and ignored the high whines and more insistent scratching at the door and leaned over you sucking at your neck decorating it as he saw fit leaving marks of red and purple biting his mark into the crook of your neck then lower tracing a warm wet train over your thin shirt. You moaned clutching his waist trapping him between your thighs using the grip you had to rock up onto him trying to ease the burning in your core.

"Oh whats this? Someone is impatient considering she wanted to keep playing with Kal?" His voice came out as a deep rasp making you gasp cupping his face.

"You treating me with your Geralt babe?" He smiled latching onto your ear rocking down onto you drawing out soft mewls. You vaguely heard Kals whines become louder barks out side the door hearing the dog jump up pawing at the handle of the door trying to break in.

"Oh you like?~" You sighed quickly trying to rid your tshirt panting feeling just how wet your slit had got, you were embarrassingly wet considering you hadn't even done anything yet.

"Fuck yes~ oh god its so-ah fuck its so hot Henry~" he pulled back growling in the new low tone you hadn't known he was capable of, his large hands helped remove the tshirt throwing it across the room and latched onto your tits biting and sucking slow flicking his tongue across a pebbled nipple as his hands stripped you of your shorts. he chuckled seeing the damp patch, your arousal sticking to the material in one neat line.

"Oh you really do need me don't you love~" you nodded to him whining when he pulled back grunting a growl biting your boob and sucking harshly. You both moved in tandem rolling around the sheets grinding ,rocking ,biting and grunting both intent on ignoring the pup crying outside the door. He would wear himself out and get bored. Well that was the plan anyway.

Henry finally pinned you and descended on your core like a starving man given the sweetest fruit. You cried out fingers in his hair unsure what spurred on this heated frenzie but would happily indulge him. One thing you loved about him is he was always up for eating you out, the man thrived on it! He seemed to get a massive kick out of feasting on you until you came all over him. You grunted as he suckled on your bud teasing and twisting his supple lips across it Nipping you began to loose yourself panting and jerking up into his mouth chasing a sweet release you hadn't known you needed and then you heard it.

A deep loud echoing mournful howl. Even Henry stopped frowning up at you from between your legs. That was new, Kal wasn't a howly dog, he barked and yipped giving off the weirdest groans and moans. But never howled. You both burst out laughing unable to stop it as the howls were all over the place, loud and quiet raspy and uneven like Kal was an apprentice learning on the job.they were less 'howls' and more 'how-wo-wow-wo-wow' It was clear this was his first time but bless him he was trying to be the wolf of the house. You panicked as he began to get the hang of it and patted Henry's shoulder. he was still chuckling finding Kals new found voice hilarious.

"Quick stop him! If he learns that we'll never hear the end of it!" You chuckled pulling the thin sheet over you as Henry swore and quickly slinked off the bed racing to the door opening it stopping Kal in his tracks. The Akita smiled panted a few breaths thumped his tail on the floor then collected his rope entering, jumping on the bed without a care in the world.

"Babe?" You asked biting the inside of your cheek trying to stop the giggles as Henry began to scowl at the fluffy bear sprawling out on his side of the bed a flush building up his chest settling over his face. He cleared his throat.

You and Henry watched as Kal moved dropping the rope by your hand waiting for you to continue your game of tug. You flopped back in peels of laughter at Henry's face. The man looked amused and livid at the same time as realization struck. Kal, lovable cute baby boi Kal had just played Henry like a fiddle. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry at the fact your boyfriend, your chosen mate had just been outsmarted by a dog.

"Yes love?" He said none to happy with how things had turned out, here he was standing at the foot of his bed painful hard on and there you were naked and willing...In his bed...With Kal. This was not the plan.

"I hate to break it to you...But you've just been cock blocked in your own house by your dog....For a game of tug!" You giggled as you threw Henry's previous words back at him petting Kal who was still fiddling with the rope trying to make you grab it.

"No shit...Can we still fuck? I mean he can have my side! I'm gonna be on top of you anyway?" You gaped at him as he rounded the bed fulling intent on rolling on top of you sliding home. You held up your hand to him.

"Nope! No way am I fucking you next to Kal!" Henry ignored you crouching over you trying to lay you back down to finish what he started before being rudely interrupted by the Akita now in bed with his girlfriend.

"Oh babe why not? this is painful, look I'm going purple...Besides you started it its your responsibility~" he whined trying to bat away your pushing hands leaning in to capture you with a burning kiss. You dodged anticipating his next move, his kisses were always a sure fire way to make you completely melt and give in to him. you quickly twisted away throwing your legs over the side of the bed placing your hands either side of his naked hips, pressing him back as he still tried to gain on you. you swallowed looking up at him meeting his lopsided grin, trying to ignore the proud cock swaying in front of you almost tapping your heaving breasts.

"How about the shower? He's scared of the bathroom since his last bath?" Henry snapped his fingers and clapped face lighting up as he patted your hands slowly easing them off of him.

"Fuck yes! Babe you are a genius!" He moved over and kissed your face making you bat him away and then he turned to Kal wagging a finger at him.

"And you my four legged son are a pain in the ass!" You shook your head patting Kal as he tilted his head  he looked offended with his dads statement. You looked to the bathroom door as Henry's pert ass vanished around the door frame.

"Daddy didn't mean it baby boy~ you know how he is when he doesn't get his way...Just a spoiled man child~ he loves you really" Kal whined ears flattening  as he heard the shower switch on. You patted the dog with a sigh and got up padding across the bedroom to the en suit.

"Don't worry baby you stay there and daddy wont get you in the mean old shower~" you giggled scratching his ears as he huffed  in defeat. His daddy had got the better of him and the Akita wasn't pleased. He grumbled as Henry poked his head around the door frame wriggling his brows at you as you passed him getting a playful smack on the rear. then he faced the dog and stuck his tongue out childishly to the dog who huffed and turned around choosing to give you both a clear view of his ass.

[nadisabug]

Thinking of You

Pairing: Giyuu Tomioka x reader

Warnings: swears, Giyuu would say fuck fight me on this, blunt Giyuu, oblivious reader, very oblivious, one wound thats pretty bad but it turns out okay i promise!

Summary: You’re on a mission with your new partner when he sustains an injury for an unbelievable reason.

A/N: ahhh thank you!!! that means so much to me!! I am so insecure about my writing but I am glad you like it!!!! also this was such a cute prompt I loved writing for it. I know there’s a lot of bad stuff going on in the news right now but hopefully this takes your mind off of it for even just a second <3 ily and enjoy! 

EDIT: also all the credit for the prompt to @missmorosis​!!!! thank you for the amazing prompts!!!!!!!!

Demon Slayer Masterlist

With a well placed swing of my sword, I decapitated the demon in one blow. The move was only possible thanks to my partner for this mission, Giyuu, but I was the one who finished her off. 

We had been fighting this demon for quite some time, and spent even longer tracking her. She was very elusive. But now that she was gone, the village had no more worries. 

I flicked my sword to clean it, then sheathed it at my side. I turned to Giyuu, smiling at him, but he didn’t smile back. Quite normal behavior from him, until he went and collapsed to the ground.

“Giyuu!” I yelled and rushed to his side. I looked him over and found out that his thigh had an incredibly deep cut, mostly likely from the demon’s claws. I immediately put pressure on it, pressing my hands to his thigh. “How did this happen?” I cried, feeling extremely guilty. We were supposed to be a team that helped each other and here my teammate was, bleeding out on the ground. “You were fine a second ago, what happened?”

“Fuck,” Giyuu muttered, propping himself up on his arms. He scooted back so that his back was against a nearby tree and I followed him, applying pressure all the while. When it was clear that Giyuu had nothing more to say, I got to work on his leg. 

I pulled his hands over to apply pressure while I rolled up his pant leg. I took off my kimono and began to shred it. I was left in nothing but a thin tank top and pants, but I had bigger worries than that right now. The cut was pretty deep, and was steadily leaking blood. I had literally no tools at my disposal to stop the bleeding other than my shredded kimono. I placed wads of it at the cut and then tied them tightly. I waited a second to see if the pressure stopped the bleeding, but when a crimson red began to stain the fabric of my kimono, I knew otherwise. 

“Shit!” I quickly pulled out another strip and started to make a tourniquet out of it. It was a risky last ditch move, but judging from Giyuu’s face, he couldn’t stand to lose much more blood. I secured the tourniquet quickly, effectively stopping the blood flow to his leg. “Okay, okay, okay,” I muttered like a mad man and stood up. I held out my arms for Giyuu to take, which he did, albeit groggily. “The town is five minutes away, we should be able to get you to a doctor in time to cauterize the wound so you don’t lose your leg.”

The sentence sent my stomach askew. How could this have happened? He was a Hashira for goodness sake, how did he sustain such a serious wound? I couldn’t remember him diving in or anything, but maybe that was the problem. I wasn’t focusing enough on my partner and know here we were. 

I hauled Giyuu up, pulling his injured right side to my left. I wrapped his right arm around my shoulders and began to pull him along. He was heavy, I would admit, built entirely of muscle he probably trained years to get. 

I was relatively new Slayer, still on watch from the higher ups. That’s why I had to take a partner on this mission, to make sure I could handle it on my own. I was surprised when Giyuu volunteered to go with me, seeing as we haven’t talked much. It was also a bit hard for me seeing that I had this huge crush on him. It was always hard for me to focus around him, so that may have been part of the issue.

So in all, if it wasn’t for me being so new and an absolutely terrible partner, Giyuu wouldn’t be in danger of losing his leg. 

“I,” I stammered then steeled myself for what I was going to say. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

“Yeah,” Giyuu lifted up his head to meet me with those serious eyes. “It is.”

Wow. Way to make me feel better. 

“If I could just stop thinking about you, I wouldn’t have been so distracted-”

Wait. What? 

“You- you think about me?” That was the only thing that could come out of my mouth at that moment. I was so taken aback by his blatant confession that I didn’t know what else to say. 

Still staring into my eyes, he responded. “Well, duh. 24/7.”

I didn’t know what to say. He seemed so... serious. Not that Giyuu was the joking type it was just... he meant it. He really just told me he thought about me 24/7 and thought nothing of it. Nothing at all. It couldn’t be in a romantic way, could it?

I stomped that thought out immediately. It had to be the blood loss. 

“No you don’t,” I scoffed and looked away. I picked up my pace, dragging him a little further. 

“Yeah, I do. I think about you smiling or your hair-” he stopped to reach out and touch my hair. “So soft...”

Okay, it was the blood loss. 

“I was so worried you would get hurt that I made a mistake, honestly quite stupid.” 

“You were... worried about me?” I asked and glanced over to him. I looked back at the forest before us after, noting that it was thinning out. I could almost see the village from here. 

“I always worry about you,” he responded factually. He scrunched his nose up, “It scares me when you fight, and nothing usually scares me.”

He was delusional. He had to be. There was no other explanation. 

“No way,” I said more to myself than to him. “You’re lying.”

“Really, Y/n? I’m lying?” He scoffed. “Maybe I’m being a bit open, but I am not a liar.”

“Okay then tell me later when you’re not delusional from blood loss, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We lapsed into silence after that, hobbling to the town. Once we got there, the townsfolk immediately welcomed us in and gave Giyuu medical treatment. Luckily, because the town was so close, Giyuu did not lose his leg and ended up being fine. I ended up taking him to the Butterfly house to recuperate, the whole way we did not speak. I dropped him off and left soon after, called on another mission. 

It was months before we saw each other again, and I had forgotten about our promise in the forest all that time ago. I was at the Butterfly house on business when he approached me in a hallway. I was just heading to bed when he pulled me to the side and spoke to me. 

“Y/n,” he called. I stopped and let him catch up until we were face to face. The hallway was dim, the only light from a few small windows letting in the moonlight. 

“Giyuu. How’s the leg?” I asked, a pang of guilt hitting me. 

“Better.” 

The tension between us was thick, permeating the air and making it feel stale warm.

“I thought about you everyday,” he whispered softly. “Everyday. I was so worried about you, if you were going to be okay without me.”

“Liar,” I whispered back. 

He took a step forward, looming over me. “Am I?” 

I stared at him until I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked to the ground and took a step back, my face hot. “Okay well, so what if you’re not lying I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish here.”

Giyuu laughed. “And Mitsuri says I am dense.” He took another step forward and lightly took my chin and angled it upwards. “I like you. Do you like me?” He said bluntly. 

Absolutely speechless, I just nodded. In response, Giyuu smiled. The sight filled my heart with warmth. 

And then he leaned down and kissed me.

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