#Just. Push through! You got this! I’m like 97% sure you got this! Don’t ask about the other 3% because it’s 3% so it’s irrelevant

[clover-the-awesomest]

Sorry for using classic meme images as a reaction to this but I honestly don’t really know what to say… I don’t understand in the slightest as I am not an adult and don’t quite get that feeling of hopelessness yet, but I do still wish the best for you. I want to understand, to give proper advice or words of encouragement but I just. Don’t know how??

However, I do think that things will get better for you. You’re still so young, you’re still so new to this life, you are just starting out. You’re barely even 32, judging by this post, so please. Do not tell yourself that it’s over, that you’ve wasted your life. Don’t keep believing that you’ll never amount to anything in life, that you mean nothing to anyone. Do not listen to those voices that say you’re a waste of space or anything like that at all! Because none of it is true!

You are a wonderful artist! Your attention to detail is immaculate, and you’re really great at hyper-analyzing things that others wouldn’t even batt an eye at! You are funny, you are kind, and you are incredibly considerate. I don’t know what you do IRL since you value your privacy and I greatly appreciate that about you, so I can’t really judge you otherwise. But I still do know, without a shadow of a doubt, that you matter. You matter to me. You matter to others. You matter to your family, your friends, your pets, the strangers online that you’ve adopted, the random people on the street that pass you by, YOU MATTER.

And don’t you dare let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

❤️💖💞

I don’t feel like I belong anywhere. I’ve cried. I’m bitter. I’m bitter watching people get to travel and explore and go pretty places. I’m bitter that i can’t get help for my medical complications. I’m jealous that others can go swimming and experience nature while I’m confined to a tight little space and a bathtub. I’m sad that i have no IRL friend/peer group. I feel alone. I’m exhausted. My best is never good enough. I feel my family doesn’t take me seriously when i say “I’m checked out.” I wish i was impressive to them. I wish i was intelligent or competent to them. I wish i was useful. But I’m not. I’m dependent and trapped and, in this moment, fairly convinced my future is dull and bleak. I live in a world beyond my reach. Everything is dreams. My 20’s are almost completely gone. I feel like dreams don’t come true.

It’s just an episode. They pass. I got triggered and i’ll get over it. But lately the sensation of being trapped and feeling like it’s impossible to have the life i want has been very persistent. There’s been loads of progress in some spaces, but in this one idk. All that keeps me going are my dog, my gecko and Ash. This has been all that’s kept me alive for a long time. It continues to be the only thing. I genuinely do not see a way out of this tunnel. Not tonight. There is sorrow, and sleep. But at least i have a place to sleep and a dog to snuggle.

Tomorrow is another world, most likely as uneventful and stagnant as the last…

[louloulemons-posts]

Could you do a Eddie fic where reader has low iron and is always cold and he like warms her somehow? I have no clue if that made sense sorry 😬

Cold Pumpkins

Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader

Word Count : 0.9k

Warnings : not proofread, fluff, Eddie is just a doting boyfriend, cutness, petnames.

A/N : thank you so much for the request i decided to make it cute and autumny too. I hope you enjoyed it 🫶🏻

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

You had always been someone who loved the colder months, but sadly the cold didn’t love you. Icy hands, and a cold nose, along with burning ears and the cooler months were now in full swing.

You and Eddie wanted to make the most of your first Halloween together, decided to go to a Pumpkin patch with a few of your friends : Robin and Steve.

Steve was one of those people who was always in multiple layers, and complained he was freezing still. A thick scarf around his neck and gloves on his hands, of course no hat, couldn’t mess up his hair.

Robin didn’t feel the cold, which made sense, she never stood still, always bouncing around keeping her body nice and toasty.

Eddie didn’t like the cold, he liked Spring time when it wasn’t too cool or too warm, he didn’t feel the cold though. Unlike you, who even in the height of summer felt the cold.

You loved it though, crunching through thick snow, snowball fights, chilly autumn air. You found it to be beautiful.

Walking through the patch, Robin ran ahead, pulling Steve along. You don’t know how Eddie had the job of pushing the wheelbarrow, but here we are.

“Look at this one, it’s so cute!” you smiled, picking up a small pumpkin. Eddie stopped next to you, “It’s very cute, think it’s a little small to carve though babe.”

You poured at him, making the boy let out a sigh, “Fine, fine, put it in. Just make sure you get some proper ones too, okay?” You nodded, pecking his cheek, carrying on in front to catch up with Robin who was attempting to lift a huge pumpkin.

Eddie was in shock, your nose was freezing, how were you okay? You must be sick or something to not feel that, you weren’t whining like Harrington- who actually wasn’t that cold due to the 97 layers he had on.

“Maybe we should head for some hot chocolate,�� Eddie called.

“Munson that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day,” Steve said, walking back towards him.

This left you and Robin laughing as you struggled with the huge pumpkin. “Who’s that one for?” Your boyfriend asked.

“Me and Robs! Joint effort,” you smiled, helping the girl lift the orange squash into the wheelbarrow.

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie said, as it wobbled under the weight of the vegetable. “Sorry Munson,” Robin laughed, walking ahead to catch up with Steve - mainly to tease him.

“You need help?” you asked.

“I got it don’t worry,” he smiled, turning the wheelbarrow around so you could head back towards the cafe at the other end of the vegetable farm.

You went to hold the front of it so you could steer Eddie down the field, taking off your glove so you could hold onto the metal properly.

“Hey!” he said.

“Hm?”

“Put that back on, you’ll get frostbite and loose all your little fingers.” You rolled your eyes, but listened to the boy.

The walk back to the cafe wasn’t that far away, as it had to be accessible to the families who brought their young kids.

The cafe wasn’t too busy, but there were not seats inside. “Me and Robs will find us somewhere to sit,” You said to the boys, the pair nodded. “Okay Munson, hand it over,” Robin said trying to take the wheelbarrow from him.

“Robs, you’ll kill someone,” he said, moving her hands away and motioning to you. “You got it?” he asked. Humming, you nodded your head “I’m strong.”

“Don’t I know it. Cream and marshmallows?”

“Please.”

“Same for me,” Robin spoke.

“Okay, be back in a sec,” he smiled, kissing your head.

“You guys are so cute, it makes me sick.”

“As if you and Vickie are any better!” That made Robin chuckle, as you made your way to a table. “She’s sorry she couldn’t make it, college and all that.”

“I get the feeling. I’m surprised the four of us got to do it. Shame Nancy and Jonathan couldn’t make it either.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The boys were back soon enough, Eddie handing you your hot chocolate and slid into the picnic table next to you. Taking a sip you hummed, “Thank you.”

“Course.”

The cold air blew again, making your hair flutter, putting your hot chocolate down you pulled your hat over your ears and snuggled into your scarf trying to hide from the burning sensation.

“I can’t wait for summer,” Steve said, pulling at his own scarf. “It’s October, it’s only just stopped being Summer! You two boys are so whiny,” Robin said.

“Hey I love Halloween and stuff, just Spring time is my favourite,” Eddie held his hands up. “I hope it snows this year,” you said, making Steve groan, “Don’t wish that on us!”

Eddie noticed you rubbing your gloved hands together, trying to get some heat. He placed his own drink down, taking your hands in his, blowing warm air onto them.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Mhm just chilly.” Eddie nodded, shrugging his arms out of one of his jackets, he had a hoodie on underneath, along with a thick t-shirt.

He draped it over your shoulders, pulling you in under his arm so you could nuzzle into his chest. One arm wrapped around his waist while the other, held his jacket close. “Better?” he spoke into your hair.

“Much, thanks baby.”

“Of course,” another peck was placed on your head, warm on your chilly skin.

“Robin?” Steve began.

“Don’t even think about it Dingus.”

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

Thank you so much for reading!

Please leave any requests 🤍

[nyotasaimiri]

Arc Two (redux) 97

Nyota settled back comfortably and accepted a bottle of water from Tarvei. “Thank you. Is there anything else I should know at the moment?”

“Not sure there’s much more to tell,” Lumen told her. He pulled a pocket-watch out of his vest pocket and checked it, then shut it with a sharp little click. “We got most of them Occasus, think a few ran for it. Arjun’s been chattin’ with Esther, and Esther’s botherin’ them folks at the Outpost, to figure how they hide their little meteor there. We oughta be able to tuck this place away. It’ll be right safe soon enough.”

“Making contact with the Outpost has been a boon for our camps as well,” Lana said. “The technique is reliable for evading Miniknog sensors.”

“Good.” Nyota nodded. “You handled that well.” It was reassuring to know she could leave everything in Lumen’s hands if she had to. He was proving ever more capable as her second in command.

“Okay, but you gotta hear all about how the scuffle went, Captain,” Sonny said, jumping in with a bright gleam. “See, they had this big robot thing, like the one that went for Hadley. And somebody shot my arm. That wasn’t nice. But then all them wispers woke right up, and froze the robot stiff as a fencepost! Then Namina popped in and smacked the ol’ thing to pieces!”

Nyota sat up a little straighter. “Namina is here?”

“Sure is. Brought him and Eldie with me,” Lumen told her. He checked his pocket-watch again. “Now, I know yer gonna tell me she ain’t a fighter, but it was her idea.”

“No, I trust your judgment, and hers,” Nyota told him. The thought still sent a sour coil of anxiety through her stomach. Oldarva had learned well, but she was still untried in actual combat… “Were they hurt?”

“Nah, they’re both right as rain,” Lumen told her. He hummed, warm orange glow growing murky. “But I told them to catch up with us when they could. Shoulda been here by now.” He tapped the microphone on his collar. “Hey Ferny, where are ya?”

Namina’s voice crackled through, too quiet for Nyota to pick out the words from where she was sitting. Lumen listened and nodded along. Stopped. Whistled.

The microphone crackled again, and Sonny giggled. “Dang, that’s a good swear.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Lumen muttered. “Forgot the mic picks that up so hard. But whatcha mean she caught a prisoner?”

Nyota sat up. Her back twinged; she ignored it. “She what?”

Lumen held up a hand to stall questions as he listened intently to Namina’s voice, humming in quiet surprise as Namina told him the gist. “Well how ‘bout that. Thank ya kindly, y’all just stay there then.”

Nyota waited as Lumen gathered his thoughts, trying to at least seem patient while she burned with questions.

Hadley asked one for her. “What’s this about a prisoner? Occasus don’t surrender.”

Lumen shrugged. “This one did. Eldie said that Fern-fangs already searched them, so we ain’t got a sneak attack or sneak-spy to worry about, no weapons or wireless or nothin’. I dunno what’s up, but I trust Oldarva.” He looked right at Nyota. “She sure knows when a person oughta be spared.”

The words sent a shiver through Nyota and made her fur rise with something that had no relation to cold or fear. “Yes. You’re right.” It felt right. Lumen didn’t know—he couldn’t know what had happened between them so many months ago. But she felt that he did have a guess, somehow.

She closed her eyes and shut out as many distractions as she could, searching her mind for options. “I do not want to leave our crewmates alone out there, though. Or send them both back to our ship with a potentially volatile element.”

Tarvei raised a hand. “I’ll go look after them, sis. It’s not a bad run to get there, and we should get Hadley back to the ship soon anyway.”

“Now hold on,” Hadley cut in, half-rising in indignation before Tarvei’s hand caught her shoulder and gently pushed her back down. It said much of her condition that she did not protest, but fierce resistance still burned in her mauve eyes. “I’m not going anywhere just yet. I want to see what’s back there. Has to be something good after the fight that rock put up.”

“Ya oughta rest,” Lumen told her, and she turned her fiery glare on him. “C’mon, lil’ Firebrand. Ya know I ain’t gonna order ya, it’s no good to push so hard.”

Nyota cleared her throat; Hadley looked down. “We stay together,” she said, quiet but firm, and Hadley looked up again with a mix of confusion and hope. “Lumen, please ask Oldarva to bring her prisoner here. SAIL can keep our ship safe on its own, and I can think of no more secure place right now than the Vault, in either case.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Lumen was thoughtful, she could see that in the bubbling under his shell. But not upset—he was intrigued. “What’s the plan, then?”

Nyota gestured at their makeshift camp. “I’ll warm some rations for us. We will rest here until they arrive, and I will question this captive myself.  I want to see why Oldarva thought them worth saving.”

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Kinky 97/100 (bonus with a side of pining): jaskier/any

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): wet dreams, somnophilia (ish?) Rating: explicit

Summary: Jaskier wakes up to Geralt rutting against his leg in his sleep.

I LOVED this prompt. I need to write wet dreams and/or somno more often. I don't think I got the pining across in this one very well, but I did add a bonus hand over mouth to keep quiet, if that helps 💖

Since winter started, Jaskier has learned a lot about Geralt. To start, he's actually very affectionate, even toward Lambert despite their antagonistic relationship. And Jaskier's always known Geralt is kind, but watching him make supper for his brothers and Vesemir and the light in his eyes when they enjoy it is… adorable, for lack of a better word. But by far, Jaskier's favourite discovery about Geralt is that when he's warm and safe and comfortable, he cuddles.

That's not to say he does it willingly or while he's awake, but it's the fact that somewhere in his subconscious, Geralt reaches out to him when he's asleep and curls around him.

Jaskier was supposed to have his own room, but he barely slept the first night because of the cold and Geralt had come to check on him and curled into bed with him and stayed. It's not unusual for them to share a bed, but normally it's because they can't afford two rooms or one big enough to have two beds. This is different. This time, there is an abundance of blankets, a huge fireplace Geralt could have lit without a thought, and they both have their own vast space to themselves. So there's really no reason for Geralt to continually return to Jaskier's bed, but he's not about to question it. Especially not after the cuddling starts.

He's not sure when that is exactly, because the first time he notices is a week or so after they arrived. Jaskier has always had vivid dreams, but this one is so real that it wakes him up and at first he still thinks he's bound, but as his mind settles, he realizes those are Geralt's arms around him. It takes an additional couple of minutes to adjust to this, but when he does, he shifts back gently, pressing against Geralt's chest and shutting his eyes. When Geralt doesn't wake, he risks moving a little closer, the dream long forgotten.

And it keeps happening. Maybe it's because he wants to wake up, but he does quite frequently now and every time Geralt is pressed against his back or has an arm slung over his hip and he's so peaceful. His breath is warm and even and he looks… content. But every morning when he wakes up, Geralt is always gone.

They do chores in the mornings, he knows, but he suspects Geralt knows about the cuddling and he can't bring himself to admit it, so he makes sure he's gone by the time Jaskier wakes up every morning. Which is unbearably frustrating, but Jaskier doesn't want to press anything; this is already so much more than Geralt has offered before, so he lets it pass and eagerly awaits every night when they tuck into bed.

So he's not thinking about much else when he climbs into bed one warm night, stripping down to his braies as he always does and climbing in next to Geralt. He rolls over, facing out into the room because Geralt reads before bed, shuffled over to see by candlelight before Jaskier inevitably complains about the light and pulls him down to bed. He doesn't mind, not really, but he longs for the warmth of Geralt's body against his own and he's not allowed to have it while they're both awake. They say their goodnights and Jaskier shuts his eyes with a soft smile, hoping silently that he wakes up like he usually does.

He does, a few hours later, but nothing about tonight is like it usually is.

Tonight, he wakes to soft moans and Geralt squirming next to him. For a moment, he thinks he's having a nightmare and he reaches out to wake him before realizing it's not a nightmare at all. Geralt is plastered to him, his head tucked under Jaskier's chin and he's hard. His hips shift again and his cock presses into Jaskier's thigh and it's all Jaskier can do to bite down on a moan.

He doesn't want to move because he doesn't want to disturb him, but he doesn't want to let Geralt continue if it's going to cause problems later. But it feels good. Shivers run up his spine as Geralt ruts against him and Jaskier can feel his own cock stir in his shorts. He shifts his hips back to keep from getting too closer, but Geralt nuzzles against his neck and he shudders.

Geralt's mouth is warm and damp where his lips brush against Jaskier's neck and he presses against him. It's overwhelming and when Jaskier shifts away again, Geralt gets an arm around his waist, pulling him close again. His hips jerk hard, rutting against him and Jaskier can't do anything but like there and let him. But fuck he wishes Geralt was awake, wishes Geralt would want this the way Jaskier aches to touch him now. He clenches his hands into fists as a soft moan breaks the silence in the room and squeezes his eyes shut.

But Geralt keeps him close, keeps tucked up under his chin and mumbles softly against his neck, each little indistinguishable word like a kiss and Jaskier doesn't know that he'll survive the night. But just as Geralt's panting increases and Jaskier thinks he's done for, Geralt jerks to a stop. His hips twitch and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's woken up, but he feels the dampness of his release seeping through his shorts and realizes with a start that Geralt just came. Which is… too much for him to process so early in the morning.

His own cock twitches in his shorts and he tries to disentangle himself because if Geralt wakes up thinking he got off grinding against Jaskier's thigh, he'll never forgive himself. And Jaskier can't bear this being a bad memory for him, because he will be thinking about it fondly for the rest of his life. He pulls away just in time to hear a low, garbled Jaskier? and he curses silently to himself.

He's still got Geralt's arm around his hip, but he doesn't dare move now, lest he make things worse. But Geralt already seems to have caught on to what happened and he's pulling away. Jaskier moves instinctively, sliding up closer as Geralt rolls away from him.

"Shh," he whispers, "you were dreaming, darling."

Geralt just grunts and Jaskier can feel the embarrassment coming off him in waves. He reaches out, brushing his fingertips down Geralt's side. Geralt shivers under the touch and curls in on himself.

"It sounded like you were having a good dream, hm? Why don't you tell me about it?" He wants to be encouraging, to show Geralt that this is fine. Good, even.

"Jask-" Geralt chokes, but he doesn't get further than that. Jaskier hums softly in the silence that follows.

"Hey," he says, "hey, Geralt," he aims for soothing, but his own voice is rough and bordering on seductive. "Did you dream about me? I don't mind if you did."

A loud, pained groan, muffled by the pillow is the only response he gets, so he shuffles a little closer.

"I'd like to hear about it if you're up for it?" Geralt groans again and Jaskier presses his nose into his hair. "Don't be embarrassed, darling. I'm honoured to be able to bring you pleasure. In any way. Even if you're not awake for it."

Geralt buries his face further in his pillow but Jaskier catches the end of what sounds like am sometimes.

"Do you… do you think about me sometimes?" A little groan. "When you touch yourself? Can I touch you?"

That certainly seems to get Geralt's attention, and he rolls onto his back, looking skeptically over at Jaskier. He's tangled in the sheets, so Jaskier tugs them straight again to avoid reaching out and just touching without permission.

"Yes," Geralt says tentatively. Jaskier guides him back onto his side, running a hand over a hip and catching his fingers on the hem of Geralt's shorts.

"Let's get these off, hm?" Geralt nods, so he pushes the shorts down and chucks them off the side of the bed, dragging his palm back up the front of his thigh. "Would you tell me what you were dreaming about?"

"Jask-"

"It's okay. I think about you, too, sometimes," he hums, "do you want to hear about that?" That catches Geralt's attention and he turns his head with a nod. "Yeah?" Jaskier squeezes Geralt's thigh gently and inhales softly.

"The inn we stayed at in Kaedwen," Jaskier starts, "you were playing Gwent with the butcher and I was bored so I was drinking with a couple of the others. But red wine makes me horny and I couldn't keep my eyes off you. I didn't want anyone else, so when I couldn't stand it any longer, when I couldn't keep my hands off myself any longer-" he punctuates the sentence with a quick squeeze of Geralt's thigh, sliding up toward his hip.

"That's where you went?" Geralt asks, low and breathy.

"Mmhm. Crawled into your bed and stripped naked, bed still smelled like you. I thought about going back down there and bringing you up to bed with me, but then I thought about… what if I just climbed into your lap right there? Would you fuck me right there? Let me ride your cock while you played?"

Geralt groans long and low and Jaskier presses his nose into the back of his head. "Then I thought, what if you just fucked me right over the table. If I got you hard and teased you until you couldn't take it anymore. Till you shoved me over the table and fucked me for everyone to see." His breath comes quick and sharp now and his cock throbs between his thighs, but it's worth it to hear the way Geralt groans.

"Fuck," he mutters and Jaskier hums.

"You don't have to tell me what you were dreaming about, you just sounded like you were enjoying yourself. I won't press." He settles back against the pillow, letting his fingers drag softly over Geralt's skin. "It's nice to see you enjoying yourself for once." He nuzzles against the back of Geralt's neck, risking a soft kiss to his hair and he feels Geralt tense up but before he can pull away, Geralt lets out a shaky breath.

"It was about you," he whispers and Jaskier's skin prickles with the confession.

"I'm glad," he manages, "glad I could bring you some pleasure, even if in your sleep."

He lets his hand slip, pressing between Geralt's thighs and shutting his eyes. His own arousal has faded a little, but he's still hard, and he has to shift to keep from pressing his cock against Geralt's ass. Even the thought of it sends a little spark through him and he shuts his eyes, letting out a measured breath.

"You're aroused," Geralt hums and Jaskier squirms.

"'S okay. You've already come and I'm not just gonna jerk off beside you." He huffs softly but Geralt turns in his arms, shifting up so they're face-to-face.

"I could go again, make it up to you." Geralt's breathless and Jaskier can't look away from him. "Can I touch you?" Geralt asks and Jaskier doesn't hesitate before nodding.

"Yeah."

Geralt presses a palm to his stomach, soft, tentative and it takes all of Jaskier's strength not to lean into it, to wrap himself in Geralt's arms and rut against him. Because he wants so badly to be close again, to curl up against him, but he doesn't want to risk whatever brought this on tonight. Geralt's hand slips lower, pushing under the band of his shorts and curling around his cock. Jaskier jerks unintentionally into Geralt's grip, letting out a shuddering sigh as his cock slips between his fingers.

But he doesn't have time to feel sorry about it before Geralt is gripping him firmly and jerking him quick and hard. The angle makes it a little awkward, but Jaskier shifts onto his back, presenting himself and making it easier for Geralt to touch him. And it does; Geralt slows his strokes, pressing more firmly and slipping his fingers down to press against his balls and Jaskier groans softly, turning his head so he can watch him.

But when he opens his eyes, he's surprised to find Geralt looking back at him, his eyes soft as he watches and Jaskier moves without considering the consequences. He catches Geralt's lips in a brief kiss, but just as reality hits him and he pulls away, Geralt surges forward, deepening the kiss. He shifts forward, keeping his hand on Jaskier's cock, pumping consistently even as he bundles him into his arms, shifting him so he's pressed against his back.

Like this, Jaskier has to twist to continue kissing him, but he can feel Geralt's cock against his ass and the trade-off is well worth it. He moans with the first shift of Geralt's hips, pushing back against him and encouraging the roll of his hips. He didn't think Geralt would get so hard again so quickly, but his cock rests thick and eager against him, slipping maddeningly between his cheeks through the fabric of his shorts.

"Geralt-" he huffs, groaning as Geralt's thumb comes up to press against his slit. When he slides down again, he slips from Jaskier's cock, cupping his balls before pressing back behind.

"Fuck," Jaskier groans, "please."

"Would you let me?" Geralt asks and Jaskier can't know if he means touching him or fingering him or fucking him but he doesn't care. He feels like he'll fall apart without Geralt's hands on him, so he just nods and reaches for Geralt's face, tugging him into another deep kiss.

And for a moment, Geralt lets himself get caught up in it, lips sliding softly against Jaskier's, before he remembers himself and makes quick work of getting Jaskier out of his shorts. Once he's naked, Jaskier spreads his legs wide, giving Geralt all the space he needs to do whatever he wants with him. And Geralt isn't shy about it any longer.

He slips back behind Jaskier's balls, rubbing against his hole before testing the stretch. It burns a little, but he has oil in his bag and Geralt's leaking against his ass which might be enough if he stretches him properly- He's abruptly thrust back to reality by Geralt's fingers, already slick, pressing in against him again.

"Oh!" he gasps and Geralt kisses his shoulder, an apology.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine, good," Jaskier assures him, "just wasn't expecting you to be so… prepared." Geralt huffs a little laugh and pushes deeper.

"You didn't think we just come up here and become saints, did you?" Jaskier says nothing and Geralt leans in against his ear, nosing into his hair. "Jaskier, when was the last time you got off?"

"Uh, before we came up?"

"Oh." Geralt pushes deeper into him, knuckles grazing Jaskier's ass and he slides closer so his cock presses against the back of his thigh. "Not even once?"

Jaskier shakes his head. "I know how well you all hear and smell," he scoffs and Geralt laughs again.

"I was surprised I didn't smell it on you, but I figured you must have gotten off in the baths and washed it off."

He hadn't even considered that, truthfully, and he's regretting it now. His cock throbs against his thigh and every little shift of his leg has him twitching for more. He wouldn't be so worked up now if he had just jerked off in the bath like apparently everyone else does.

"Didn't want to be rude," Jaskier says but it comes out as a gasp as Geralt pulls out and presses against him with two fingers this time.

Geralt just hums, flexing his fingers to stretch Jaskier's rim. Jaskier shoves back onto him, rocking onto his fingers and Geralt nips at his ear, pressing his cock into Jaskier's leg.

"Is this what you want?" he asks and Jaskier rolls his head back.

"More," he whispers, "more, Geralt, please-"

Geralt shoves two fingers into him and Jaskier can feel his impatience growing as he rocks up against the back of his thigh. When he pulls out, Jaskier whines, but then Geralt's adjusting behind him, pressing the head of his cock against Jaskier's rim. He reaches around, pressing a hand over Jaskier's mouth.

"If you don't want to be heard, you'll have to be quiet."

Jaskier just moans against his hand and rocks back against him. Geralt presses into him, stretching him open as he slides in and Jaskier's eyelids flutter, shifting to adjust to the size of Geralt's cock. But he feels too good to stop and it's been so long since he's been properly fucked that he can't keep himself from slowing down. He shoves his hips down, taking Geralt all the way and squeezing around him. The hand over his mouth tightens and Geralt reaches down to wrap the other around his cock.

He strokes him quick and hard and Jaskier tries to keep pace with his thrusts but loses himself in the rock of Geralt's hips. He stills, lets Geralt hold him tight against him and lets him fuck him quick and hard. But as Jaskier pushes closer to the edge, Geralt's thrusts become more erratic.

He shudders and groans, pressing his nose into Jaskier's neck and sucking at the skin on his shoulder. It burns through him like wildfire and Jaskier can't help but press against his chest, tipping his neck to give Geralt better access. And Geralt never lets up, jerking him quick and hard with a firm hand, somehow keeping him right on the edge until Jaskier is practically begging to come, his pleas muffled by Geralt's palm.

When he does come, he throws his head back against Geralt's shoulder and Geralt pushes up onto one arm, leaning down over him. He slips his palm to Jaskier's throat, pressing just gently as he leans down to kiss him. And Jaskier lets himself slide over the edge, Geralt's mouth hot against his own as he spills onto his stomach and the sheets.

And Geralt keeps fucking him, hips snapping hard until he shudders to a stop, mouth still slotted loosely against Jaskier's. He shares his breath, huffing softly as he regains the ability to breathe properly and once he's calm, he bundles Jaskier up into his arms and rolls onto his back, dropping his head back against the pillow. Jaskier shifts so he's face-to-face, resting his elbows on the bed next to Geralt's head.

He looks at him, takes in the shape of Geralt's face in the dark, the mat of hair stuck to his forehead and he smiles to himself. He wants to tell him everything in that moment, how much he loves him, how desperately he wants to spend the rest of his life making him happy, but it feels a little rushed. So he dips down, pressing his lips to Geralt's and smiling when he's met with a responding kiss.

"Do you think," he whispers, "that this time you'll be here in the morning?"

"You knew?" Geralt asks and Jaskier smiles at him.

"Why do you think I was always so eager to go to bed, darling?"

"Coulda just asked," Geralt mumbles, wrapping his arms around him and squeezing tight.

"Like you asked to fuck me?" Geralt squirms but says nothing and Jaskier kisses him again, soft and sweet, folding his arms over Geralt's chest and resting his head on them. "You can have anything you want from me, Geralt, you only have to say so."

"Stay," Geralt says softly, "stay here with me, that's all I want."

101 kink prompts

[rcksmith]

Secret — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “For Five Hargreeves — can I get 97, 91 28 and 35 for a heavy smut? And 40 from fluff? If it isn’t too much trouble!”

“If it’s not too much trouble could I do 40,53 & 91 from the smut prompts for Five ty honey 💕”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

35. “Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.”

40. “I guess I’ll just get off all by myself.”

53. “Well, since you want to cum so badly, why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.

91. “guess i'll just have to cum in you then’

97. “You know, you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

Fluff prompts:

40. “Come cuddle.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

Guys, I really understand who doesn’t feel comfortable reading or writing Five’s smut. But I always say that I only write with him (any genre: romance, fluff or angst) with the notion that Five is 20 years old here. All of my fanfics mention swearing or sex, even if it is a memory or something shallow, but as I am writing with Five as an adult, it is consistent that the fic has aspects of an adult life.//

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: explicit heavy smut, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

It was one of those warm nights, which carry a searing and heaving sensation in the back, which had a malicious tone in the air, which stirs your body to choose bad decisions, making your hands itch and your heart racing for something...intense. It was one of those hours that passed midnight, that breath was heavy with the expectation of something extraordinary, that skin prickled just with the images in mind.

And you were in that state. Heart pounding heavily, yearning for something, caustic breathing, the environment with an energy of lust. Well, at least you was like that.

Five did not share your line of reasoning, or, if he were not oblivious to the malicious moonlight that rose in the sky, he was pretending very well. Sipping a margarita at the bar in the Hargreeves mansion, with calculations in front of him taking all his attention. Normally, you loved that he focused on his own things. But now... you were seething with something that only Five could placate.

It was a few months ago that you went from just being friends with his siblings to someone he fucked hard at night. The sexual energy between the two of you was very strong, and it was very easy to make bad decisions when the bad decision in question was so fucking hot.

Five Hargreeves did things to you. You wouldn't know how to explain it with clear phrases, but his gaze made you shiver, his body made a very specific part in the middle of your legs vibrate, and his voice and that self-centered smile... God!

It was no accident that you surrendered. You would have surrendered to that battle a million times.

“Five.” You sighed softly, taking a sip from your own drink. “Can't you do this tomorrow?”

“No. I am close to solving this.”

You controlled yourself not to roll your eyes. You were never the most needy type, especially with people as reserved as Five, but, damn it, you were on fire. It was logical that you could go out and choose someone to placate that, but that would trigger many things between Five and you. He hated that you were with someone else, even though he himself didn't assuming out to you.

It are a delicate situation, you were friends with all the Hargreeves siblings, and it would be a racket if they knew that their brother was fucking one of theys best friends.

The warm evening breeze came in through the window and collided with the chill of the drink running down your throat, awakening even more lustful anxieties.

“Five..." You purred, got up from the armchair on the counter, still behind Five and slid your hands over his shoulders "Maybe...you might want to finish this later.” You whispered at the foot of his ear.

Even without seeing him, you could feel that he was letting go of one of his arrogant and malicious smiles. Five rotated the seat to be face to face with you, his legs spread wider to accommodate you between them.

“And what are you going to do to distract me?” That same defiant, boastful voice.

But the look he gave you made a shock of desire reverberate through your body. Five wanted to play? Okay, you were going to play a game whit him.

“Why did you…” you leaned forward gently, resting one hand on his hot thigh, leaving your cleavage exposed “don't try guess?”

You realized that he had swallowed hard, even though his posture had remained unwavering. Five looked down at you cleavage, waist, and slightly elevated butt. You approached him a few more inches, your mouth a breath away, the heat of the bodies being shared without even touching.

Five could drive you crazy and screaming, but you knew it could also drive him insanity.

When you leaned over a little more and your mouths were so close to meet, you changed the direction and reached out with your free hand to pick up Five's margarita behind him. You straightened up and away, with a mischievous smile on your lips that revealed that everything had gone as planned.

Five semi closed his eyes at you, a fiery glow going through his eyes.

“Do you want to play with me?”His voice was low, dangerous “You know what happens to you when you challenge me.”

It was a warning, clear and resonant. You were a good girl for Five because you knew the strength that he could fuck you. Fuck, he could break you if he want. But now you were sexually frustrated, aroused, with a racing heart and wheezing from the expectation of something.

A night of bad decisions.

“You don't want to get out of your equations.” You turned your voice into something innocent, soft, provocative, and the strong breath that Five drew was a small victory for you "I guess I'll just get off all by myself."

Your smile was malicious, causticante, but as soon as Five got up from that chair, the perfect posture, much taller than you, and was slowly towards you, like a predator with its prey, you knew you were screwed.

“Do you want to come this much?” His fingers passed gently over your warm neck, and you let out a breath with that stupid touch.

Five moved closer, your chest glued to his, the hot, citrusy breath of alcohol hitting your nose. Something wetted you panties, making you bite the inside of your cheeks to keep from sighing any louder.

“Would you use your little toy thinking about the times that I fucked you so hard that you couldn't walk the next day?”

That was too much for your already sensitive system. Those words went directly to the thread that connected your heart and its pulsating nucleus, causing a burning note to reverberate.

“Five...”the sigh came out, while the memories of Five using your vibrator to push you to the limit, while him fucking you brutally, prowled like a wild beast in your mind.

Five slid the fingers from your neck to your cleavage, brushing the tips of her fingers across the flesh of your breasts. Five stuffed his forefinger into your cleavage and pulled you to him.

You moaned softly, in a purr.

“Such a needy little thing, aren't you?" The whispered floated in your ear, while you put down the margarita at the bar and held your hands in his arms.

You bit your bottom lip, your panties soaked, your heart beating fast in your chest, the atmosphere more wild and fiery.

“You want this?” Five slowly lowered a strap from your blouse, each second speeding up your heart even more.

“Yes...” You sighed “I really want to, please.”

Then Five's touch got rougher and he held your chin firmly, lifting you face to look him in the eye.

“Beg.” It was an order, but your body was sending millions of feelings to you that you were lost for a second "beg!”

“P-please.” You looked at him pleadingly “Fuck me so badly, please.”

His grip got stronger.

“Once again.” Now the other hand slid roughly over your body, squeezing your waist, thigh, ass, anything that Five could mark as his property.

“Please, I'm begging you to eat me.” You really were, your body needed more, and there was no denying it.

So in the blink of an eye, the blue flash swallowed you both up and took you to his room. You were dizzy for a second, you were not used to his tricks. But Five used it as a bonus and stuck his lips to yours, stunning you with the strong taste of alcohol, desire and lust.

You moaned softly, your hands working to free him from his clothes, your lips corresponding to the battle. You managed to strip off his shirt layers and fade his pants, but Five didn't have the same patience as you. He didn't wait to undress you, he tore the thin fabric and opened your bra hungry, in a hurry, as if you were his last meal.

In a second his hot mouth was on your breast, sucking and nibbling at the needy skin aggressively, his fierce hands pulling you out of the other pieces of clothing. Five was not delicate, loving and caring, he conquered, took, owned, his goal was to devour you until his savagery was sated.

“Fi-Five!” You moaned loudly, your naked body now shaking with desire, your heart exploding in your chest.

You would have said something more if Five hadn't pushed you to the bed and made you fall into it. He pulled your legs apart, exposing you completely to him. His eyes burned with a dangerous and brutal fire, and Five slapped down the inside of your thigh. You screamed, arching your back, your hands closing on the sheet.

“Well, since you want to cum so badly…” Five climbed on top of you, his mouth proving the point where he had hit you “why don’t we see how many times I can make you cum right now.”

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, his mouth was right in the middle of your pulsating core. Eating, sucking, tasting everything you willingly offered to him so much. You moaned, or screamed, your hands tightly squeezing the sheet, digging your nails into the fabric.

Five ate you at an undisturbed pace, as if you were the last meal in the desert, clasping his hands on your waist to keep you immobile, sinking his mouth deeper into you. His tongue opened its yours walls, circled her clitoris and sucked there, leaving a hot trail of spittle. You moaned loudly, your waist trying to fight the firm grip of his hands to roll in him mouth. You felt a thread about to burst inside you and your heart started to race in your chest.

“F-Five!” You screamed when he sucked your clitoris, and he could feel you pulsing in his mouth, signaling that you were close.

“Come for me, little slut.”

The vibration of his voice in your sensitive flesh was the trigger you needed, you came intensely, your legs wobbly, your breathing heavy, but Five didn't wait for you to finish coming before climbing on top of you, lowering his pants and underwear enough and brutally get inside you in a fraction of a second.

You groaned loudly, your hands clasping his bare shoulders, your walls hypersensitive to the end of the orgasm that was still breaking free. It was too much for you, your eyes stung with tears, your heart was racing a marathon in your chest, and your whole body was shaking.

Five doesn't give you a second to get used to it, or to get down from the sensation of your orgasms, he set a rough, hard, badly rhythm, entering inside you in penetrations that pushed your body upwards. You spread your legs wider and wrapped them around Five's waist, your chest glued to his chest, skin-to-skin contact being the extra to drive you crazy.

It was too much for you to take, too much for your hypersensitive body. Five silenced your broken moans with toxic kisses.

“Try to keep quiet. We don’t want to get caught.” His voice was hoarse, breathy, broken, Five drives his dick so deep inside you as possible with every word.

“I...I can't...”You whimpered in his mouth, clasping your hands in Five's hot flesh, sobbing at the strength he put in you, you needed more.

“So let's take care of it.”

Five released an aggressive and rough hickey on your neck, putting an arm around your waist, sticking every inch of their bodies together, and his free hand covered your mouth, drowning out yours screams. You thought it was going to placate his hard rhythm, but Five started pulling your waist down, against his dick, and sinking deeper inside you.

“You wanted me to fuck you, didn't you?” Five snarled, looking into yours watery eyes "Now take it, fuck!."

His dirty words only led you further towards the second abyss. Five fucked you so hard that you couldn't answer, let alone whit the heavy hand on your mouth. Yours hands sank into the skin on his back, yours legs pulling him hips towards you, desperate to placate what was about to burst.

Five could feel yours tight walls throbbing on his dick, signaling that you were going to come any second. He groaned loudly, clenching his teeth on the skin of your neck so as not to make a noise, thrusting his dick as deep as possible into you. He replaced the hand in your mouth with his own lips, swallowing yours moans and trying to keep the sounds of you both low.

“I ... I'm going to...” You cried with pleasure, pain, desire, his rhythm hurt but it gave you so much hunger and pleasure that you could feel the liquid of your arousal soaking his dick.

Five looked at you in a way full of lust and with a very desire to break you. Oh he wanted to destroy you.

He came out of you, making you let out a loud moan of frustration and tears streaming from yours eyes. You whimpered loudly, and Five switched positions and pulled you hard into his lap, giving you no time to straighten up before he pushed his dick into you and aggressively stuck both hands to your waist.

You bit your lip hard to keep from screaming, trembling hands resting on his chest as Five pulled you up and down brutally, thrusting his dick in as deep as possible in you. He did not contain an aggressive groan at the sight of yours breasts jumping on his face, body sweaty and marked by fingers and hickeys, the inside of yours thighs already red by the force that Five shocked the body in you.

“Pl ... please!”

You begged, your face smeared with mascara and tears, your lips red from raw kisses, your hair sweaty. You looked like a goddess and Five wanted even more to destroy you.

“Do you want to come?” His voice was breathless, hoarse, fierce.

You nodded frantically, looking at Five with beg, begging him to let you come. It seemed to have an overwhelming effect on him. Five slapped your ass down, raising his hand to your back and pulling you forward, making your chest lie on his while the rhythm reached new places.

You bit his shoulder to keep from screaming, tears streaming down your face.

“If you come in this position, I will not control myself.” He snarled at you.

“I do not mind!” You begged, moving your waist to match his rhythm.

“Guess i'll just have to cum in you then” Then Five kissed you, hard, bad, dropped a hand to your clitoris and applied the trigger you needed to collapse.

You sank your mouth into the skin of his neck to muffle your scream, and soon a hot, thick liquid was filling you to the brim, taking up every inch inside you. You whimpered loudly against Five, hims hips doing the final thrusts to make sure the cum was filling you, his warm hands loosening the aggressive grip.

You both breathed loudly, your legs were shaking, your hair was stuck to your face and it took you two minutes to lift your face and look at Five. He gave you an arrogant smile of ‘I said I was going to break you and I broke’ and you laughed softly.

“I don't think I can get up.” You laughed, and Five removed a lock of hair from your face. “Do you think they heard us?”

“They certainly heard you.” He scoffed.

“Coming from your room.” You snapped and Five laughed, hims chest still heaving and heaving, covered in a mist of sweat.

“Fuck them.” Five said, gently pulling your hips up, pulling the dick out of you, making you sigh a broken moan. “You are so sensitive!” He said between his teeth, as if he had never been satisfied with you.

You laughed, and shook your head, exposing your neck full of purple tick marks.

“You know…” Five took his index finger to the marks, delicately skirting them “you always look so much better when I mark you up.”

You pushed his shoulder slightly, rolling your eyes.

“Can we take a shower together?” Five nodded at you question. “ and…”

“And?”

“You know ...” yours cheeks became more flushed "Come cuddle."

Five laughed, his eyes tame now, an open smile and satisfied energy.

“We can.” he smiled and you gave him a passionate kiss on the lips.

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Photoshoot Fantasies - Fred Weasley

Title: Photoshoot Fantasies Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Warnings: NSFW!!! Dom!Fred, daddy kink, spanking, masturbation (male and female) oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, choking, begging, dirty talk Summary: Fred doesn’t like it when his girlfriend gets naughty without his permission A/N: this is….pure filth. For the anon who wanted some smut with dom!fred. this is literally like 3% plot and 97% smut lmao so I hope you enjoy!! Requests are open and feedback is always welcomed!!

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

“Oi, lover boy! You’ve got a letter from your girlfriend,” George calls teasingly from the kitchen.

Fred groans as he rolls over in bed, his hands coming up to rub the last bits of sleep from his eyes. He squints as he opens his eyes, due to the bright streaks of sunlight coming in from the break in his curtains. Fred takes a moment to mentally prepare himself for the day before he heaves himself out of bed, and shuffles into the kitchen.

“Good morning dear brother of mine,” George greets far too cheerily for the early hour.

Fred grunts in response and takes a seat across from George, waving his wand so a cup of coffee lands in front of him. He usually isn’t one to need caffeine in the morning, his own natural energy is usually enough to clear the sleep induced fog from his head, but he’s been having trouble sleeping lately since Y/N hasn’t been by his side.

After graduation, Y/N landed her dream job in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry. Fred had been so proud of her, and he loved how excited she was each night as she told him about her day over dinner. Unfortunately, her job had one huge drawback: traveling. Every so often Y/N would travel to different parts of the UK and Europe to get updates on the population of certain magical creatures or to help develop and implement conservation plans. A week ago, she left for her longest trip yet, an entire month, and Fred hasn’t been able to sleep well since.

“Where’s this letter then?” Fred asks after he has a few sips of coffee. He can feel the caffeine working its’ magic, and his brain is finally clear enough to string a sentence together.

George rolls his eyes and tosses a thick envelope at Fred. “You two are sickening, you know that? I think she wrote you a bloody novel about how much she loves you and misses you,” George says, pretending to throw up.

Fred flips George off, trying to contain the blush forming on his face. “Don’t act like you didn’t stand in the doorway for 15 minutes last night kissing Angelina goodbye, git.” Fred can feel George’s eyes on him as he fiddles with the envelope. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he bites.

“Someone is feeling feisty,” George retorts with a laugh. “Come on then, open the damn letter. Let’s see how long it takes her to start waxing poetically about your eyes.”

Fred glares at George as his fingers quickly rip open the envelope. Normally he would wait for George to go and busy himself with something else or he’d retreat to his room so he could bask in Y/N’s words by himself, but it’s been far too long since he’s seen her and Fred thinks he might explode if he waits any longer to read her letter. “Oh,” he says softly in surprise, when he only pulls out one piece of parchment. The envelope hadn’t been bulky from the lovely letter she wrote him, but the half a dozen photographs she had included. His eyes scan over the short note, a small smile appearing on his face.

To my dearest Freddie Eddie Spaghetti,

Things are going well up in Scotland, Niffler birth rates are through the roof thanks to the plan we implemented last year. We’ve spent the last few days prepping a large cohort of them to send off to Egypt to assist the rune breakers Gringotts has out there. I’ll be off to France in a day or so to check up on some of the Thestrals we brought to a conservatory outside of Nice a few months ago, hopefully they’ve acclimated well.

I’ve been missing you like crazy, Freddie. You’re all I seem to think about these days, it’s been quite hard to focus on my work. I don’t know how I’m going to manage going three more weeks without seeing your face or being held in your arms. You better rest up, because you won’t be getting any sleep for days once I’m finally back home with you.

I’ve included a few photos that will hopefully keep you company while I’m still away.

Love you lots and lots and lots, Y/N

“That’s it? One stinky piece of parchment?” George asks, clearly annoyed. “There’s my day, ruined. Thought I’d get a nice laugh at least since you’ve been so miserable. What else is in the envelope then?”

Fred’s eyes are still scanning the letter, trying to commit the words to memory and he absentmindedly grabs the stack of photos to show George. “She sent photos,” he responds, finally putting the letter to the side. “Probably of all the baby Nifflers,” he adds with a chuckle.

“Let me see, then,” George says excitedly, reaching his hand out. “Remember when she sent those photos of the baby dragons dressed up in onesies? That was jokes. Bet she put hats on them this time.”

As Fred goes to hand George the stack of photos he gets a glimpse of the one on top. His eyes widen and he quickly pulls his arm back, cradling the photos against his chest. “Nope, sorry. You can’t see them.”

“What? Why not?” George watches as Fred starts to fidget in his seat and a red flush starts to take over his face. “Oh my god!” he says suddenly with a laugh, realization hitting him. “She sent you nudes! What a little minx. You two are far more disgusting than I ever could have imagined.”

Fred clears his throat, choosing to ignore George. “Well I’m going to go back to my room and uh, respond to this letter. See you later.” Fred tries to act as normal as possible as he heads back to his room, desperately trying to ignore George’s cackling. He breathes a sigh of relief as he shuts his door behind him, leaning on it for a moment.

Fred rids himself of his T-shirt and climbs back onto his bed in nothing but his boxers. This isn’t how he planned on spending his morning, but Fred is more than happy to change his plans. He sits up in bed, his back pressed up against his cold wall and his legs splayed out. While Fred would consider himself adventurous in the bedroom, this is the first time Y/N has ever done anything like this, and he can feel himself getting aroused already.

“Merlin,” he groans as he allows himself to look at the first photo. Y/N is laying in the middle of a bed wearing nothing but a lacy red bra and the matching pair of panties, a set Fred is all too familiar with.  Her whole face isn’t visible, just her mouth, and as the photo moves her tongue comes out to lick her bottom lip and her hand lightly trails down her torso to her thigh.

He balances the stack of photos on his lap for a moment, his right hand pushing his boxers down to his thighs. Fred had planned on drawing out the experience, but he’s already rock hard from the first photo. He throws the first photo on the bed beside him as he wraps his hand around himself, and he picks the stack back up.

Fred starts to slowly stroke himself as his eyes rake over the next photograph, his mouth running dry. Y/N is laying in the same position as before, but the bra she was wearing in the first photo has been discarded, and as the photo moves her hands massage her breasts and she bites her lip.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, as he moves onto the next photo. Y/N is now completely naked, and as the photo moves one of her hands trails down her front from her breast to her core while her other hand pinches and toys with one of her nipples.

Fred starts to stroke himself faster and is unable to contain the grunts that fall from his mouth as he moves to the next photo. His thumb rubs the sensitive tip of his cock, spreading around the precum that has started to accumulate, helping his hand glide easier as he strokes. In the next photo, Y/N’s mouth is open, and Fred is sure a breathy moan is leaving her lips, as the movement of the photo shows Y/N starting to slowly rub her clit as her other hand fists in the sheets underneath her.

“Oh, fucking shit,” Fred groans as he looks at the second to last photo, his hand stilling on his cock to stop himself from finishing just yet. Y/N’s feet are now flat against the bed, her knees bent and open wide. As the photo moves Fred can clearly see Y/N sink two fingers into herself as her thumb rubs at her clit. Her other hand tugs at the sheets and her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, a telltale sign that she’s on the brink of her release.

Fred starts to stroke himself again as he reveals the last photo, his orgasm quickly approaching. Y/N’s entire body is flushed red and as the photo moves her back arches, her toes curl, and her whole body trembles as she reaches her orgasm.

Fred’s thumb teases the sensitive head of his cock as his eyes wander over all of the photos. He focuses on the last one, and as Y/N once again reaches her climax Fred does as well. His head tips back and he lets out a low moan as he releases all over his stomach, his cock twitching in his hand. Fred continues to lightly stroke himself as he comes down from his high, his breath coming out in hard pants.

When he gets to be too sensitive he releases himself, letting his cock lay against his stomach. He reaches for his wand so he can clean himself off with a simple spell. But an even better idea pops into his head.

“Accio, camera,” he casts, watching as the top drawer of their dresser opens and his camera starts to fly over to him. He grips the camera and points it at himself, so his body from his torso to the tops of his thighs are in shot. Fred makes sure that his limp cock and the come on his stomach is the center of the photo, and once he’s pleased with the shot he clicks the shutter button.

Fred places the camera on his bed as the photo prints and develops, grabbing his wand and cleaning himself off with a spell. He pulls his boxers back up and gets out of bed, rummaging around for some parchment and a quill. Once he finds what he needs he writes out a quick letter to Y/N.

To my dearest Y/N,

I’m glad to hear everything is going well with work. I’m so proud of you and the things you do. Things at the shop are going well, the new range of whiz-bangs sold out in just a few days. I’m missing you like mad, I can’t wait for you to get home.

Those photos you sent me were very naughty. How dare you pleasure yourself like that without Daddy’s permission. I think Daddy’s going to have to punish you when he finally gets his hands on you. 10 spanks sounds fair, doesn’t it princess? I think you deserve it, after the mess you caused Daddy to make all over himself.

Love you lots and lots and lots and lots, Freddie Eddie Spaghetti

Fred grabs the now developed photo from his bed as he reads over the letter, a satisfied smile on his face. He folds up the letter and tucks it into an envelope along with the photo before he seals it and addresses it to Y/N. As he goes to leave his room he spots a piece of folded up parchment on his floor and he grabs it, opening it up as he heads towards the window in the kitchen.

I’m going to Angelina’s. Use a silencing charm next time you perv.

Fred laughs at George’s note as he sends their owl away with his letter, already thinking about taking advantage of his brother’s absence.

-

“Someone is in a good mood this morning,” George muses as Fred saunters down into the shop just before opening.

Fred adjusts his tie as he joins his brother at the till, a huge smile on his face. Just like last week, a letter had arrived from Y/N this morning with another filthy set of photos. This time she was in a lingerie set that Fred didn’t recognize, and she brought herself to her climax using one of the toys Fred had purchased for her as a Valentine’s Day present earlier in the year. Fred had just enough time to bring himself to his own orgasm and write her back before he had to get dressed and head down to work.

“And why wouldn’t I be?” Fred asks as he unlocks the door and turns the open sign on with a wave of his wand. “The sun is shining, the birds are chirping. It’s a beautiful day, Georgie.”

George looks Fred over before he scrunches his face up in disgust. “Y/N sent you another letter today didn’t she?” When Fred sends George a wink he gags. “Bloody disgusting. I hope you washed your hands.”

“And why would Fred need to be washing his hands?” Verity asks as she comes back from the storeroom with some more love potions to be stocked.

Fred’s face flushes red as George start to laugh. “No reason in particular,” he stutters out. Fred turns to George and glares at him. “You’re such an arse.” Fred moves to hit George upside the head, but he ducks his brother’s advance and heads over to help the two customers that have just walked in the door.

“You lot don’t pay me enough to deal with this,” Verity says as she chuckles and shakes her head.

-

Fred sighs to himself as he sits up in bed, his eyes scanning over some of his notes. He and George are in the early days of developing some new products, and he’s working out some of the initial bugs before they start production next week. At least that’s what he’s supposed to be doing, but his mind is definitely elsewhere. Y/N’s third letter had arrived a few days ago, and he can’t help but let his mind wander to the new photoset sitting in his bedside drawer. It seems that his threats of punishment have fallen on deaf ears, because the photos Y/N has sent have been dirtier each time, and he can’t help but imagine what will be waiting for him in the envelope when her final letter arrives in a few days.

“What do you want?” Fred asks dully when there’s a knock at his door, not bothering to look up at George.

“That’s an awfully rude way to greet your girlfriend after you haven’t seen her for nearly a month,” Y/N says, the smile evident in her voice.

Fred’s head snaps up immediately, a smile taking over his face. “Y/N? What are you doing here?” He immediately climbs off the bed and heads over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Y/N drops her bag on the ground and wraps her arms around Fred’s neck, pulling him down so she can kiss him sweetly. “We finished everything up a few days early. Figured I’d come home and surprise you.”

Fred presses their lips together again hotly, his hands moving down to Y/N’s thighs. He lifts her up, his hands gripping her tightly and moves her over to the bed. “God I missed you,” he murmurs into their kiss, before he tosses her onto the bed.

“Couldn’t have missed me too much, not with all the photos I sent you,” Y/N giggles as she lays back on the bed.

Fred’s eyes darken and he can’t help but let out a groan as he thinks about those pictures. He can feel himself start to get aroused, and he grabs his wand, waving it so that his door slams shut, and locks and a silencing charm falls around his room.

“Such a naughty girl you were, Y/N. Taking those photos without Daddy’s permission,” he scolds, his voice low and rough.

Y/N squirms on the bed, looking up at Fred as innocent as possible. “I’m sorry, Daddy. I just wanted to make you feel good while I was gone,” she explains sweetly. “And clearly it worked, that photo you sent me made me so wet, Daddy.”

Fred bites his lip as he watches her squirm on the bed, taking pride in the fact that he can see a blush forming on her cheeks. “Oh, you made Daddy feel very good, princess. But you were still being a little brat. And you know what happens to brats? Don’t you?”

Y/N can feel herself getting wet as arousal starts to build in her stomach. She’s been waiting for this moment since Fred mentioned spanking her in his first letter. “They get punished,” she responds airily, fists clenching to keep from touching herself.

“That’s right princess, they get punished.” Fred pauses, letting his eyes roam up and down Y/N’s body. “Daddy think 30 swats is good, 15 on each cheek. Don’t you think, princess?” Fred smirks when Y/N lets out a whine as she nods wildly. “What should I use, hm? My hand? Or should I get the paddle?”

“Your hand, please,” Y/N begs. As much as she loves the paddle, she craves the feeling of Fred’s hand on her ass.

Fred smirks down at her. “Normally brats don’t get what they want. But you asked so nicely, princess.” Fred tears his gaze away from Y/N and takes seat on the end of their bed. “Get naked for Daddy and come stand in front of me.”

Y/N immediately gets off of the bed and rids herself of all of her clothing. Normally when they play this game she loves to drag it out and tease Fred endlessly. But she’s been on the edge for nearly 4 weeks and Fred has already been preparing to punish her, and she doesn’t want to find out what he’ll do if she’s even more naughty now that they’re finally back together. Y/N comes to stand in front of Fred, feeling shy under his intense gaze.

“God you are so gorgeous, princess,” Fred compliments, his hand reaching out to lightly grip her hip. He rubs circles into the bare skin, reassuring her. “Come on then. Get in Daddy’s lap.” Fred helps Y/N get situated across his lap, laying on her front. “Such a good girl,” he whispers, letting his hand run down her back, over her bum and to her thigh. “Do you have anything to say to Daddy? Before he gives you your punishment,” he drawls, his hand pushing in between her legs to rub at her wet folds.

Y/N gasps at his touch, her eyes falling closed. “I’m sorry for being a naughty girl, Daddy,” she moans out as Fred rubs her clit ever so slightly.

“Thank you princess,” he says softly, removing his hand from her core. He places it on her bum instead, lightly massaging one of her cheeks. “Daddy’s not mad at you, princess. But you still have to be punished, do you understand?” When Y/N nods he smiles. “Good girl. I want you to count for me, okay?”

“Yes Daddy,” Y/N responds, getting comfortable in Fred’s lap. A squeak leaves her mouth as Fred lands the first slap to her ass. “One,” she counts breathily. Before she has a chance to recover from the first hit, Fred is landing another hit to her cheek causing her to moan. “Two.”

Fred smirks down at the writhing mess Y/N has turned into after her first 15 spanks. Her right bum cheek is bright red, and Fred resists his urge to lean down to kiss it. “Are you doing alright, Princess? Can you take 15 more?” Fred asks quietly, reaching up to stroke Y/N’s hair. As much as he loves being rough with her, he never wants to hurt her or make her uncomfortable in any way. He’s rock hard in his trousers already, and he wants to make sure she’s getting as much pleasure from this as he is.

“Yes, Daddy. Need more. ‘M a naughty girl, I need to be punished,” she responds desperately. Y/N is soaking wet and her stomach is a pool of arousal. A few tears have snuck out of her eyes from how turned on she is, and she’s basking in the warmth left behind on her bum from Fred’s hand.

“Good girl,” Fred praises, leaning down to press a few kisses to Y/N’s shoulder. “You can use your safe word at any time, you know that right?” When Y/N nods he presses another kiss to her shoulder and starts to massage the bum cheek he hasn’t hit yet. “Count for me again, princess, okay?”

Y/N nods, letting out a moan a Fred lands the first hit to her cheek. “One,” she whines, lifting her hips up to encourage him to spank her again. Fred suddenly lands three hits in a row, causing a few more tears to leak out of her eyes as she moans. “Two, three, four,” she stutters out.

By the time Fred lands the last hit to her ass, Y/N is desperate for release. She’s slowly moving her hips forward, desperate for any kind of friction against her clit. “Daddy please,” she begs.

“Look at my desperate little baby,” he coos, moving Y/N’s hair out of her face so he can see the desperation on it. “Such a good girl you were, princess. Such a good girl for Daddy. C’mere let me kiss you.”

Fred helps Y/N straddle his waist and tucks a few stray hairs behind her ear. He kisses her deeply, his tongue immediately licking into her mouth. Y/N moans into the kiss, rolling her hips against the rough fabric of Fred’s trousers. Fred groans at the contact on his clothed cock, his hips rolling up to meet hers. “God, so fucking desperate for it aren’t you, princess?” he asks as his lips start to trail kisses down her neck.

Y/N nods, tipping her head back to give Fred more room to kiss. “Need you so bad, Daddy. Missed your cock. That’s what I was thinkin’ about in all those photos. Thinkin’ about how much I love your cock and how good it feels inside of me.”

Fred groans into Y/N’s neck and pulls away so he can look at her. “That’s so fucking hot, princess. Imagining you lying in bed, touching yourself and thinking of me.” Fred kisses Y/N again. “Go on and show Daddy how you touch yourself, princess. Get in bed and pleasure yourself for me.”

Y/N crawls off of Fred’s lap and onto the bed, settling down in the middle of it. One of her hands starts to pinch and twist her nipple, while the other runs down her body and settles at her core. She watches as Fred stands up and starts to undress himself, her index finger starting to rub small circles on her clit. “Oh fuck,” she moans, tilting her head back.

Once Fred is fully nude he kneels on the bed next to Y/N’s head and takes himself in his hand. He starts to slowly stroke his cock, his eyes crawling over every inch of Y/N’s body. There’s a flush that creeps up her chest, over her neck and to her cheeks and her hips are slowly rocking as she teases her clit.

“So pretty, princess. You look so pretty touching yourself for Daddy,” Fred praises.

Y/N turns her head to look at Fred as she feels her orgasm approaching. She opens her mouth, silently asking Fred to let her suck him off. When he doesn’t immediately give in, she whines. “Please let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please.”

Fred reaches down with his free hand to cup Y/N’s cheek. “Fucking hell you’re desperate for it princess.” He pushes his hips forward just enough so Y/N can wrap her lips around the head of his cock.

Y/N whines around Fred’s cock, her head starting to move up and down. She lets her tongue wrap around the head on each pull back, wanting Fred to release into her mouth. When he starts to slowly fuck his hips forward she hums around him in encouragement. As her climax builds she starts to rub harder circles on her clit, desperate for release.

“Fuck princess, gonna make Daddy come,” Fred moans, his eyes watching his cock disappear into her mouth.

Y/N’s eyes flutter shut as she reaches her orgasm, her whole body trembling. She moans around Fred’s cock as pleasure flows through her, causing him to suddenly release into her mouth. Her motions on her clit slow down as Fred’s cock twitches in her mouth and she swallows his release. As Fred slowly pulls his cock out of her mouth Y/N stops her movement on her clit, bringing her hand up to clean off her finger.

“Holy fuck,” Fred pants, watching Y/N’s lips wrap around her finger. “You are so fucking amazing,” he says in awe. Fred’s cock which hadn’t even gone fully soft starts to harden again as Y/N looks up at him. “Look at what you do to Daddy, princess. His cock is already hard for you again.”

Y/N smiles as she gets up to her knees. She wraps one hand around his cock and starts to slowly stroke it, while her other goes to his neck so she can pull their lips together. Fred’s mouth immediately overpowers hers, and he forces his tongue into her mouth. Fred is fully hard in Y/N’s hand now, and as they kiss he maneuvers them so he’s sitting with his back up against the wall, and Y/N is sitting in his lap.

“Need your cock Daddy,” Y/N whines, pulling her mouth away from Fred’s. “Fuck me Daddy, please.”

Fred chuckles, his hands falling onto Y/N’s hips. “Go on then, princess. Fuck yourself on my cock since you’re so desperate for it.” Fred suppresses a groan as Y/N grinds down against him. Fred and Y/N have tried nearly every sexual position either of them could think of, and they both know that being on top is low on Y/N’s list of favorites; she much prefers it when Fred holds her down and fucks her into the mattress.

“Daddy,” she pouts, grinding down against him again.

Fred narrows his eyes at her and resists his urge to kiss her. “Princess,” he warns. “If you wanna be a desperate cock slut, then be a desperate cock slut and fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Maybe if you’re a good girl and you come on Daddy’s cock he’ll give you what you want.”

Y/N perks up at that, and she leans forward to kiss Fred slowly as she rises to her knees. One of her hands’ rests on his shoulder, while the other reaches back to grasp the base of his cock.

Fred breaks their kiss so he can watch as Y/N lines him up with her entrance. Y/N whines as she sinks down, her eyes fluttering shut at how full she feels. She sinks down until their hips meet and Fred is fully inside of her.

“Fuck you’re tight, princess. Always so tight for Daddy,” he praises. He groans as Y/N starts to roll her hips, his grip on her tightening. “Go on, baby,” he encourages. “Get yourself off on my cock.”

“Oh,” Y/N moans, her hands gripping Fred’s shoulders tightly. She starts to slowly pick herself up, stopping when Fred is only halfway inside her, before she slams herself back down. “So good, Daddy,” she pants.

Y/N fucks herself on Fred’s cock like that for a few minutes, growing frustrated when she fails to hit the spot inside of her that will bring her to her orgasm. “Daddy please,” she whines.

“Come on, princess. You know how to fuck yourself on Daddy’s cock. Come around Daddy’s cock and he’ll give you what you want,” he encourages.

Y/N leans back, placing a hand on each of Fred’s thighs and uses the leverage to lift herself up. “Oh fuck,” she gasps as she sinks back down, the tip of Fred’s cock finally brushing her sweet spot.

“You look so pretty, princess. Getting yourself off on my cock,” Fred praises, helping Y/N to lift her hips off of him. “Such a good girl.”

Y/N moans as she fucks herself on Fred’s cock, already feeling her orgasm approaching. She starts to move her hips desperately, searching for her release. “So close, Daddy. Touch me Daddy please,” she pleads.

Fred smirks before he leans forward to press an open-mouthed kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Come on, Princess, come on Daddy’s cock,” he encourages, one of his hands leaving her hip so he can rub circles on her clit.

With one more downwards movement of her hips Y/N’s walls tighten around Fred as she comes, her body shaking as her orgasm rolls through her. “That’s it, princess. Such a good girl,” Fred coos quietly, his thumb slowing its motion and his hips rocking slightly to help her through her orgasm.

Fred kisses Y/N slowly as her breathing starts to return to normal. She shifts around on his cock as their lips move together and it takes everything in Fred to not come right there. “You’ve been such a good girl for me tonight, princess. Doing so well,” he says, breaking their kiss. “Can you take more, baby? D’you want Daddy to fuck you into the mattress?” Fred pecks Y/N’s lips. “It’s okay if you don’t baby. Daddy just wants to take care of you.”

“Want you to come inside me Daddy,” Y/N tells him, looking into Fred’s eyes. “Want you to pin me down and fuck me into the mattress.”

Fred doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses Y/N hard and flips them over so her back is on the bed and he’s hovering over her. He throws both of her legs over his shoulders, pinning her to the mattress with his hips. He braces himself with one hand as his other comes up to grip Y/N’s throat and he pulls all the way out before he slams back into her.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” Y/N moans as Fred starts to fuck into her relentlessly. The tip of his cock is brushing the spot inside of her and she’s already so sensitive from her previous two orgasms, and with the way Fred is gripping the side of her neck she knows she won’t last long.

“God, princess,” Fred grunts as Y/N’s walls clench around him. “Such a good pussy. You always feel go good wrapped around Daddy.” Fred lands a particularly hard slam as Y/N moves to touch herself. “Hands off, princess. Want you to come just from my cock. Can you do that for Daddy?”

Y/N nods, too busy moaning and whining to answer Fred verbally. Her body feels like it’s on fire, her toes curling and her back arching as she reaches her climax. “Daddy,” she moans lowly, as she comes around Fred’s cock, a few stray tears falling from the corners of her eyes.

“Fuck princess,” Fred moans. Y/N’s walls tighten and twitch around him, bringing him to his own release. His hips still as he empties himself inside of her and he crashes their lips together. Fred slows their kiss down as they both recover, unable to stop the smirk that forms on his mouth when Y/N whines as he slowly pulls out of her. Fred collapses on the bed next to Y/N and she immediately cuddles into his side as he wraps his arm around her.

“I love you,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth.  

Fred turns his head so he can kiss her properly, not pulling away until they both need to breathe. “I love you too, Y/N,” he says softly. “Are you alright? Did I go too far?”

Y/N shakes her head, chuckling at Fred’s concern. “Not at all, love. It was incredible.” She pauses so she can press a kiss to his neck. “I’m glad I have the next few days off, I don’t think I’m gonna be able to walk tomorrow.”

Fred laughs and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Good thing I have you all to myself because I have quite a few plans for us.”

Y/N looks up at him, a gleam of mischief in her eyes. “Oh yeah? What might those be?”

“Let’s just say our cameras are definitely going to need more film when I’m done with you.”

[chosenimagines]

-FLIRTY-

01 Call me yours *wink*

02 You look like a cute little elve

03 Looking as good as ever

04 Did the sun just come out? I don't think I've ever seen you smile that bright

05 Did it hurt?

06 You are glowing brighter than the stars

07 I am hoping to see you soon again, Gorgeous

08 Oh damn you are looking so fine, Baby

09 My pleasure

10 How about you put your lips on mine

11 I love to see you in my clothes but I love them better on my floor

12 Now I couldn’t be more happy that I walked in without knocking

13 You have never called me that. Keep doing that!

14 Your hand fits perfectly in mine

15 Good morning, baby

16 I missed this mischievous glance

17 You owe a kiss, dear

18 What’s up, hot stuff?

19 If this is a dream I don’t want to wake up again

20 How about you go on one date with me and I make you fall in love with me

21 You shouldn’t argue with destiny, love. It wants us to be together

22 I wish I could meet you one more time for the first time so I could admire you in the right way

23 Did it hurt when you fell?

24 I am pretty sure you are the reason for global warming

25 Your beauty is distracting me

26 Hey, Lover Boy!

27 You tried to flirt with me

28 Don’t you know the language of love?

29 As always you are such a charmer

30 Your smile is gorgeous

31 I wanted to use a crappy pick up line but damn Angel you are way out of my league

32 You are worth all the trouble

33 We both know that you are in love with me

34 You are my favourite distraction

35 I noticed you staring at me, princess

36 You are very welcome to do it

37 There is only you!

38 Are you sure you want a kiss? I am not sure if you won’t fall for me again

39 That is my new favourite sound

40 You are totally flirting with me

41 Awww, I made you blush

42 Baby, the sun is nothing compared to you

43 Your hero came to save you

44 I thought I was already lost but then I looked into your eyes

45 Do you want my jacket?

46 It looks good on you

47 I love it when you are blushing

48 That lip biting is sexy

49 You owe my real date but I’ll be your fake one anytime

50 Don’t worry, I’m all yours

51 Chocolate for the sweetest girl on the universe

52 You don’t mind sharing with me, do you *wink*

53 Did you know that I love how you push back your hair?

54 I’ve never thought that I’d fall for a cute little elve *smirk*

55 Besides it looks better on you

56 Hey Gorgeous!

57 I can’t wait to show you off! You are looking stunning (insert nickname)

58 My lips hurt too

59 Maybe you want to watch a scary movie with me?

60 Your wish is my command

61 Heeeey, how you doin’?

62 The room got brighter when you entered

63 I can be your valentine

64 3… 2… 1! Happy New Year *leans in for a kiss*

65 Didn’t you see it? The sparkles between you and me

66 I want to do more than that *wink*

67 I’m heartless now, because my heart is all yours! *winks*

68 I couldn’t help but notice you when I walked in.

69 Has anyone ever told you that your eyes look like the ocean? Wild and beautiful

70 You make me feel like an artist! You are the perfect muse for my poems

71 I wish I could paint you like this, but I could never do you justice.

72 Damn, that accent though!

73 I believed that I knew what beauty looks like but damn...

74 So how do I get out of the friendzone? Should we give kissing a shot?

75 Don’t tell me your heart isn’t racing.

76 My heart is racing, and I can’t tell whether it’s because I’m terrified or because I like you.

77 Trust me, you look gorgeous!

78 Did you know that your laugh is sexy?

79 It was kinda cute actually

80 This is all for you

81 Thank you for your precious smile, love

82 I don't want your body! I want to know your soul

83 Your hair is hanging in your food! *brushes it behind her/his/their ear*

84 You make me so nervous, but for some reason I still like it!

85 How about we go on a rollercoaster? The rollercoaster of emotions

86 If you’re feeling nervous, we could hold hands.

87 You like my name? You should here my phone number

88 I lost my number. Can I have yours?

89 I lost my heart. Can I have yours?

90 Hey, don’t be ashamed of being shy! It’s actually really cute!

91 Did you know I can read palms? *takes her/his/their hand and traces along the lines* I can see that you are meant to fall in love with me

92 That outfit looks great on you.

93 May I have this dance? *smirks and bows* 

94 I was more than lucky to run into you. See you around?

95 Maybe we can hang out again? *grins*

96 We work well together. *winks*

97 Has anyone ever told you how funny you are?

98 This was fun! Don’t you want this to happen again? Like tomorrow 5 o’clock

99 How about next time just the two of us hang out?

100 Aren’t you tired, sweetheart? You’ve been running through my mind a lot lately

101 You make me want to know more.

102 Just ask me out. I know you’re dying to.

103 I can’t help thinking that we look really good together.

104 Wanna go grab a drink?

105 I’ll come if you do *wink*

106 If it’s a date, then I definitely have time for it.

107 I’ll always make time for you.

108 I bet anyone would like you.

109 I know I was staring, but how can I help it. You're so gorgeous I just couldn’t look away.

110 I wish I could see you more often.

111 I thought this party would be a waste of time, but then I saw you.

112 I’m a very honest person and you are honestly the prettiest/most handsome person here.

113 You should smile more, you look lovely.

114 You should smile! Your happiness is lifesaving

115 Because of my great looks and your stunning smile and personality you should be my date to the dance

116 Are you good at ball games? Cause you really caught my eye! 

117 You, me equals a perfect match!

118 You’ve been here for how long?! I could have never forgotten someone like you

119 How about you be the Belle to my Beast?

120 Time stopped when you walked by

121 Why can’t I take my eyes off you?

122 My heart skipped a beat when our eyes met.

123 Feel my pulse. This is how my heart beats whenever I’m around you.

124 Can’t you stay a little longer? It’ll be worth your time.

125 I wanted to give you some of my sweets but I am afraid that you will get any sweeter

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 97: Dark and Mine

The house was completely dark when Draco entered, every curtain drawn, every candle extinguished. He sighed and blew out every negative thought he had, he couldn't afford them, and took a fortifying breath.

"You're a werewolf, not a vampire, you know?" he called.

He heard a groan from somewhere in the vicinity of the living room and cast a dim lumos as he set off that way.

"Sod off," Harry called.

"No can do, I'm afraid," he replied cheerfully as he made his way into the living room, avoiding furniture that had been thrown on its side, backs slashed and stuffing spilling everywhere. He kept his face carefully blank as he took out his wand and returned the living room to its proper state.

"Why bother?" Harry groused, "I'm just going to keep doing it."

He came over to the couch and sat beside him in the dip of his hip.

Harry turned his face into the arm of the couch to avoid looking at Draco.

"Hey," he murmured, gently trailing his fingers through the curls at the base of Harry's neck. "I know this is hard-"

"No you don't," Harry said.

He tried not to let it hurt his feelings, tried to keep his feelings out of this. Harry was always like this the day after; tired, sore, and as much of a mess inside as he was outside. It had only been three months, he reminded himself, they were still trying to get his dosages right.

"Sorry," the other man whispered. "That wasn't fair."

(Read more under the cut)

"No, it's not," Draco agreed, "But you're right. I don't understand it the way you do."

Harry turned his face toward him and Draco caught sight of the bruises under his eye and across his nose.

"How hurt are you?"

"It's superficial," Harry whispered.

He brushed the curls back from Harry's forehead, "I thought you'd come to see me at St. Mungo's today."

"People always stare at me," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around his waist and protecting his stomach.

"They've always stared at you," he replied lightly as he opened his kit and started pulling out healing potions.

The other man shook his head, "Not like this. Not like they're a little bit afraid of me. Everyone's afraid of me now."

"I'm not afraid of you," Draco replied as he handed over a vial for Harry to drink.

"But you've never had the best self preservation instincts, have you?" Harry asked calling to mind all of the things he'd done in his youth.

Draco tried not to let the hurt show on his face.

"Fuck," Harry grunted, "Fuck, Draco." He reached out a trembling hand and laid it on Draco's thigh, "I didn't mean that. You shouldn't come the day after the full moon," he said as he started to stand, pulling the blanket up with him. "I'm awful."

"Harry," he said, "Relax. You aren't going to scare me off. I'm a big boy, I can take it."

"You should't have to," Harry all but shouted then, as a tear spilled down his cheek and Draco ached to wipe it away. "I'm no good for you Draco, can't you see that?"

"Harry," he repeated calmly, standing up and moving to take his hands in his own. He held him fast, trying to calm the tremors, "You asked me to give you space when you got bitten and I did, because I respect your autonomy, but it was never my intention to leave you."

"What do I even have to offer you anymore?" Harry bit out.

He shook his head, "If this were anyone else, what would you say? Do you believe that Lupin was somehow less worthy than everyone else, that he had less to contribute?" Before Harry could answer he continued, "I was a death eater, for Circe's sake, and you told me that it didn't define me. You pushed me to go out and try new things, to get my healer's certification." He squeezed Harry's hands, "We're going to get your dosage right and it's going to make full moons easier. You have so much to offer the world."

Harry sniffled but said nothing.

"And even if you didn't," Draco continued, "I would still want you to be mine."

Harry looked up at him.

"You heard me," he said gently. "I would still want to be yours and I would still want you to be mine." Cupping Harry's cheek in his palm he murmured, "You are still my Harry."

"What if I'm not?" Harry asked, sounding like it caused him physical pain.

He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Harry's forehead, "You are." Draco pressed their foreheads together and waited until Harry's breathing synced up with his. "Can I take care of you now?" he asked.

Harry let out a shuddering sigh, then nodded. He drew back from Draco and dropped the blanket, leaving him standing bare and vulnerable in front of Draco. And in spite of the bruises and the bleeding, Harry was still the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

Without another moment of hesitation, he started to treat the wounds and the bruises until Harry's skin had returned to its normal color, the purples and reds faded away.

"I should shower," Harry said but he looked like he wanted to do anything but.

"You should eat," Draco offered instead, casting a few light cleaning and freshening charms at Harry before summoning a pair of grey joggers and holding them out to him. While Harry got dressed Draco turned and pulled out a bowl of beef stew that he'd made the night before and took off the lid.

After Harry sat on the couch, he handed it to him and watched as the other man dug in.

"How much have you had to drink today?"

When Harry said nothing, he filled up one of the cups he'd tucked into his bag with water and handed it to Harry. "Thanks," Harry whispered.

"Don't mention it."

Once he'd finished, Draco took the bowl and put it back in the bag before asking, "Can I stay?"

"Are you sure you want to?" Harry asked in reply, watching Draco closely.

He nodded, "More than anything."

After a heartbeat Harry nodded and Draco slipped out of his shoes and climbed onto the couch and snuggled in until he was lying behind the other man, wrapping him up tight in his arms.

Harry was tense as a board for a long moment before his body sagged back against Draco's like he'd been trying to stay strong for far too long.

He pressed a kiss against Harry's shoulder and whispered, "I love you."

"It's not going to be easy," Harry said, rubbing his thumb back and forth over Draco's arm.

"Nothing worth having ever is."

----------

Day 96: Bargain | Day 98: Reading, Nervous, Unabashedly, and Shy

[songbirdstyles]

when i kissed the teacher.

summary: the one man you want more than anything is the one man you can’t have - your english professor.

warnings: teacher/student relationship, age gap (implied), f receiving oral, whole lotta smut, whole lotta feelings, whole lotta angst

word count: 14.7k (strap in)

song inspo.: when i kissed the teacher - abba

There was something special about Professor Styles.

You knew it, and so did every other girl who took his class. Your less-than-appropriate feelings about him were shared and that should’ve made you feel better about having them - at least you weren’t as obvious as some of the other girls who obviously took a fancy to your English professor. You applauded their efforts, showing up to classes in short skirts and low cut tops in the hopes that they’d catch his eyes drifting down to their chests while he passed out your essays -

But they hadn’t had any luck yet. He was a very respectable man, and more than his looks, that was what you appreciated about him. He was passionate about English, with a curriculum that appealed to you from the very first day and essay topics that forced you to look deeper into every book that the class read. He was one of the youngest professors on campus and you could tell something about that seemed to motivate him - to not be seen as a joke by the older professors, to be taken seriously by the students, some of which weren't much younger than him.

You decided, after your very first class with him, that, in any other universe, you’d have fallen in love with him. Or perhaps tried to jump his bones immediately.

Something of that sort.

As classes progressed you found yourself only liking him more. His classes were as difficult as you’d anticipated and you should have hated it, hated how much work and effort you had to put into every assignment but you absolutely adored it. You loved doing his essays, loved the novels he picked, loved the look on his face when he handed back your assignments with a 100% scribbled on top.

Most of your assignments, at least.

It didn’t really make sense to you, why your 1984 analysis should have gotten a 71%. Truthfully, you’d felt confident while writing it - it was such an easy analysis that you’d decided to go a little deeper, spending more time on it than was necessary, because you were sure he’d be tired of reading the same essay from everybody over and over again. So you gave him something different and maybe you should have stuck to analyzing the same themes that everyone else did.

“If any of you are confused about your grade,” Professor Styles announces to the class when everyone has gotten their essays back, time left in class slowly ticking down, “please feel free to see me after class. M’happy to discuss any concerns with you.”

Perhaps you’re being paranoid, but you could’ve sworn you felt his eyes land on you.

Class ends within a few minutes and you take your time packing your things back into your bag, waiting until the last kid has trickled from the lecture hall before swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way down to his office. The door is cracked open and he’s barely sat down at his desk when you knock, flashing him a smile before pushing the door open a bit more.

You clear your throat before saying, “Hey, um, sorry to bother you - ” he interrupts you, telling you that it’s no bother at all “ - I’m just kind of confused on why I did badly on this essay.”

He nods, motioning for you to come in, and you step inside before shutting the door behind you. His office is small and cramped, with bookshelves lining the walls and a couch pressed into the corner. It’s a good vibe, you have to admit, although slightly messy. Perhaps you’d describe it as cozy, and it seems to fit him well. 

There’s an empty seat in front of his desk and you sit down in it awkwardly, placing your essay in front of him. His eyes skim the first page before he tells you, “You usually do really well on essays, and this was … a really easy one.”

“I know,” you tell him, leaning forward to try and read what he’s reading. “I just thought you might be looking for something more complex. It seemed too simple.” When you look up, he’s staring at you, and you feel heat flood to your cheeks. “I don’t - I don’t know.”

“It really is that simple, I promise,” Professor Styles informs you, and he pushes your essay back to you. “But you’re one of my best students, and I don’t want to let this bring down your grade. So, I have an idea for how you can make it up.”

Your mind runs through all the ways you’d want to make it up to him - most of them involve you being on your knees, and you cough into your elbow. He doesn’t know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t stop you from feeling embarrassed about it. Fantasizing about your professor from across the lecture hall is one thing, but you’re barely a foot apart from him now and you’re almost nervous he can hear your thoughts.

“I’ll do anything.” And you don’t care about the ways he could interpret it. He drums his fingers on his desk, and when you look down at his hand, you notice with a start that his nails are painted - you’d never seen that before, but you’d also never been this close to him, you suppose. You wonder if he gets them done or if he does them himself - you can’t picture him going to a salon, and the thought of him painting his own nails could make you cum on its own.

You don’t realize he’s been speaking until you zone back in, and when you look back up at him, he furrows his brows at you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry.” You shake your head. “Just - um - could you repeat that?” His eyes linger on you for just a beat too long, and your face flushes again. “So distracted,” he murmurs in a faux chastising tone, and your stomach flips. “What I said was that I’m willing to put this essay in as a 97 - your average for the class - if you would help me with grading some things. Not too heavy, maybe an hour or two after class. I’ve been falling behind with a lot of my classes and I’ve been looking for help, anyway, so it works out for both of us.”

Jesus Christ. Spending an extra hour every day with Professor Styles sounds like a recipe for disaster, and yet it also sounds completely perfect at the same time, and you’re nodding before you can fully process the pros and cons of the situation. “That sounds great. I mean, really - thank you so much.”

“S’my pleasure,” he informs you, giving you a large, dimpled smile. “So, after class, tomorrow - when I’m caught up and don’t need your help anymore, you’re off the hook.” 

“Got it.” you stand, grabbing your essay and your bag and making your way towards the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow,” he echoes, and the last thing you see before you shut the door is him, bringing his hand up to wave you off.

 ---

 When class concludes the next day you maintain the same habit as you did the day prior - watching every student trickle out the door before swinging your bag over your shoulders, grabbing the two cups of tea that you’d made before class and making your way down to the front of the lecture hall.

Professor Styles stands in the doorway of his office, holding the door open for you - you make your way inside with a tight, only slightly awkward smile. His eyes roll over the two cups that you’re holding and he asks, with a mildly amused inflection in his voice, “I guess you like tea quite a bit, then?”

You smile, looking down at your cups, and when he shuts the door you hold one out to him. “I do like it a lot, but this one’s for you. You know, to say thank you for giving me a freebie, and also because you look like the kind of guy who loves tea.”

He laughs and your grin widens at the noise - god, it’s like music to your ears, and you would do anything to keep hearing it from him. He reaches out to take the cup from you and brings it up to his mouth, taking a small sip - when he’s done his tongue pokes out to lap up a bit of tea from his lip, and you try to ignore how much the minuscule motion affects you. “This is perfect, Y/N. Just the way I like it. You’re an angel.” Your cheeks heat up, and then he says, “But you don’t need to thank me. I’m probably gaining more from this arrangement than you are, truthfully. People are starting to get annoyed with how I’ve been falling behind grading, which is where you come in.”

Yes, you’d heard the girls next to you whispering about how bothersome it was that they’d submitted three essays in the past month and had only gotten one back. Why does he give out so much work if he’s never gonna hand it back? 

It didn’t bother you too much.

“Well - alright, then. You’re welcome for helping you grade,” you tell him, pulling out the chair in front of his desk and settling in, dropping your bag beside you. You take another brief moment to glance around his office, as though expecting something to change, but it’s the same distinctly messy, cramped office that it had been yesterday. At some point, you should tell him that he ought to clean out his space, but that’s not what you’re here for - yet.

Professor Styles nods, making his way to the other side of his desk and plopping down in his spinning chair - it was quite nice, and made you wonder why the one you sat in seemed to be falling apart at the seams. But, then, you supposed teacher salary didn’t leave room for spectacular seating. “See, that’s the spirit.” All at once, the casual discussion between the pair of you died as he dug in the drawers of his desk for something - and then he plopped a large stack of papers on the table between you both. “This isn’t all of them - not even close. You’re very smart, so this should be pretty easy for you. Just read through them, add any notes, things they need to work on, and look at the rubric for a final grade.”

You nod, picking the first essay off the top of the pile and reaching for a pen from the cup on his desk - it’s a coffee mug with the Rumours by Fleetwood Mac album cover on it, and you take a moment to marvel at it briefly. “You like Fleetwood?” you question, voice seeming unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet of his office. “Didn’t strike me as that kind of guy.”

He looks up, then, from where he’d already begun scribbling bright red notes into the margin of someone’s essay. His eyes trail down to the mug full of pens, and then back up to meet yours. “You seem to make a lot of assumptions about the kind of guy I am. What’s that all about?”

“Nothing,” you assure him, your voice faux sweet and innocent, and he smiles slightly. “But I’m glad you have an appreciation for really good music. I was worried your music taste would be terrible, and then I’d have to live with the knowledge that Professor Styles exclusively listens to Justin Bieber.”

Your professor rolls his eyes, smile tugging at his lips. “You know,” he begins, “you don’t have to call me Professor Styles. Not outside of class, at least. It sounds weird when it’s just the pair of us here.”

“Oh.” You pause. “What should I call you, then?”

“Harry’s fine.”

Harry Styles. The name flows easily off the tongue as you test it out in a teasing tone, your eyes meeting his as you do, and your cheeks flush. You don’t know if it's commonplace for professors to allow random students to drop formalities and call them by their first names but you’ll accept it anyway - all you know is that, when you go home tonight, the thought of calling him Harry will fill your mind until you can’t stand it anymore. 

Harry as he buries his face between your thighs.

Harry as he pounds you into the mattress.

Harry as he bends you over his desk - this desk - the one you’re sitting at right now.

You cough into your arm and pick up your pen, pressing your thighs together to try and alleviate the throbbing that’s now affecting your body. You should’ve known not to let your mind wander because you’ve barely been here for 15 minutes and you already feel like you need to go rub one out in the bathroom. But you pause - take a sip of your tea, though it’s nearly gone from drinking it so much in class - and get to work grading Brianna Valeria’s essay on Death Comes to the Archbishop. The rubric sits on the desk next to you and you bury yourself in your work - if Harry notices the sudden silence that’s overtaken you, he doesn’t mention it.

For the rest of the hour, the pair of you work in silence. It’s comforting and surprisingly not awkward, and occasionally you ask his opinion on something one of his students wrote in their essays, but the playful banter you’d had before has dissipated. You’ve finished your tea and you suspect he has, as well, with the way he’s been feverishly drinking it.

“Oh,” he says, suddenly, and you glance up from where you’re in the middle of scribbling red notes into the margins of Alexander Simmons’ essay. “You should probably get going.”

One quick glance down at your phone proves that he’s right, and you rise from the extremely uncomfortable seat you’ve been perched in for the hour - you can practically hear your butt crying in relief. “Thank you so much for the tea,” Harry tells you, handing back his cup, and it’s empty, like you expected. “And - um. You don’t have to call me Harry if it makes you uncomfortable. Just thought it would be less formal, but if you don’t want to, it’s fine.”

Ah. He took your silence as you being uncomfortable calling him Harry. Well, it’s better than him knowing just how wet the sentiment made you, but you shake your head immediately. “No. No, I prefer calling you Harry. You’re right - it’s weird when it’s just us.”

He grins at you, then, standing up from his seat and stretching his arms over his head. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“You know, if I’m calling you Harry now, I think you should drop formalities too. Make it equal.”

“Okay … Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Harry,” you tell him, turning and walking out of his office with your phone in your pocket and two cups in your hands, blissfully unaware of your abandoned bag still sitting next to the terribly uncomfortable chair you’d been all too quick to leave.

 --

 It’s only when you’ve finished the trek back to your dorm, the sun beginning to lower down into the horizon, that the absence of your bag on your shoulder becomes prominent.

You can’t get into your building without your key and your key is in your bag and your bag is … back in Harry’s office, where you nearly made yourself cum just thinking about him. And the thought of having to go back across campus, back to his office, when he might not even be there, is not favorable, but you need your key and you need to bang out homework tonight, so with a soft groan you spin on your heel, walking away from the warm comfort of your building and making your way back to his.

As summer bled into fall and fall begins to bleed into winter, the weather has changed so drastically in just the past week or so that you tug your cardigan closer to your body, but the air that seeps through the holes in the crocheted sweater send goosebumps trailing up and down your body. The wind whips your face and brings tears to your eyes that run down your cheeks, and when you’re finally at the door of Harry’s building it’s a welcome surprise to walk inside, allowing the warmth to embrace you - even if the shock of the changing temperatures causes your eyes to water again.

His office is on the 2nd floor, so you pull open the door to the staircase and make your way up the two flights. Most professors have gone home for the day, classrooms dark as you speed past them to where you know his office is. 

His office is dark and your heart sinks at the sight - there are a few posters pinned to the small window, but you can see the lack of light clear as day. Your hand grasps the doorknob anyway, turning it without any hope that it would open - but then it was, giving you access to his dark office, and by the seat you’d occupied later you can make out your bag.

A breath of relief escapes your throat as you take a step inside, reaching down to swing it over your shoulder before turning to leave. And then you hear it - a small breath, an indicator of someone else in the room, and you whip around to look back around at the office.

Oh.

Harry sits in his chair, face buried in his arms, fast asleep. His hair is messy and in front of him sits the stack of essays you’d been working at early, hardly any smaller than when you’d left. It would nearly be an adorable sight - your professor, passed out at his desk - but it just seems concerning, and without thinking you’ve leaned over the desk, placing your hand on his shoulder and shaking him slightly.

“Professor?” your voice is soft, barely audible, and you speak louder when you say, “Harry?”

He doesn’t respond, so you say, louder still, “Harry?”

Then he stirs slightly under your touch, and you drop your hand from his shoulder as he lifts his head from where it had been resting on his arms, looking up at you with messy eyebrows and a thoroughly confused expression on his face. “What - what are you doing here?” Jesus. His voice is deep and raspy, sounding as though he’d been sleeping for ages instead of merely less than an hour, and if his present state wasn’t slightly concerning to you, you know that you’d feel the effects of his words between your thighs. But you pause, staring down at him, before asking, “What are you still doing here?”

“Just working on some grading.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking around the darkened office with an air of distinct confusion.

“With all due respect, Harry,” you tell him, adjusting your bag on your shoulder. “I think you’re burning yourself out. You should go home.”

He hesitates, and then questions, “Why are you here? I thought you left -”

“I forgot my bag,” and you hold it up to demonstrate it to him. “Are you going to go home? I’m serious - you need a break. And to sleep on a bed.”

“I’m fine,” Harry says, and he stands up from his chair. It moves back and hits the wall with a soft thud that goes unnoticed by both of you. “You should go home, too. I need to finish some stuff up. I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

To neither of your surprise, you don’t move from your spot standing before his desk. You cross your arms over your chest, digging your sneakered toe into the plush rug on the floor of his office - you hadn’t noticed it before, but it’s pale blue and bright against the mahogany floors. The brief silence between you two, daring either of you to speak, fills the confined space and all you can hear is the ticking of the clock behind you, and finally you say, “You’re not going to get anything done when you’re exhausted. I mean, you fell asleep on the essays. How are you going to explain why there’s drool on their assignments?”

He gives you a tight lipped smile in response, looking down at the essay he’d been working on as if to check that no saliva had landed on the words. “You caught me at a bad time. I don’t usually fall asleep on top of student essays, I promise - but you should be heading out now. It’s getting dark.”

It is getting dark, he’s right - the window behind his desk shows the darkness that newly falls over the campus. And the thought of walking home in the dark scares you just a bit, but you’ll suck it up if it gets him to go home too. “Harry.”

“Y/N.”

“I’ll help you grade tomorrow. But you’re fucking yourself here -”

(Harry laughs at your choice of words internally, but it comes out as a small release of air and a soft grin.)

“ - so come on. Walk out with me so I can make sure you’re actually going home.”

Perhaps he’s realized he’s fighting a losing battle here, because finally he looks back down at the stack of ungraded essays with a small sigh and then says, “Fine.”

“Great.” Your grin widens across your face, and for a moment you make to hold out your hand to him, to drag him along like you would to any of your friends - but the second your hand raises you drop it down to your side, and heat burns your cheeks. He’s not one of your other friends, you tell yourself, stepping out of his office, hearing him walk behind you. And you can’t hold his hand, even as a joke.

“Where’s your dorm?” Harry asks you as he locks the door to his office and jiggles the handle to check it, and you jump at the chance to forget about what happened - you don’t want to dwell on it. “Is it far?”

“Across campus.” You raise your arm and point in the distinct direction of where your building is. “Closer to the cafeteria, I guess.”

“Christ, you have a trek, then, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” The pair of you make your way to the staircase, and from the corner of the eye you can see his head turning left and right down the hallway, as if scanning to see if there’s anyone coming - you can imagine it wouldn’t be great for him to be seen with a student long after classes ended. “I had to haul ass there and back to get my bag.”

He doesn’t respond for a moment, not until you’ve left the warm building and made your way into the cold air, the sun now having retreated for the night, and immediately you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself to try and provide some semblance of warmth. Harry glances down at you with a bemused smile, and you hoist your bag further up your shoulder.

“Well,” you sigh, breath coming out in white puffs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Don’t burn yourself out, professor. And get a good night’s rest.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Shouldn’t I be telling you that?”

“Maybe.” You grin, feeling goosebumps sprout on your skin, and you shiver before turning in the direction of your dorm - the thought of walking home in the dark and cold doesn’t sound too great, but you’ve become good at dealing with it. “Goodnight, Harry.”

He doesn’t respond, and you’ve taken a few steps away when he calls out, “D’you want a ride?”

What?

“Y’know, like a ride back to your dorm. I can drop you off in the back - it’s just really cold and I’m sure you don’t want to walk so far in the dark.”

You turn back around to look at him, his cheeks a light shade of pink - whether from the cold or his offer, you can’t tell. And you’d love to jump in his car, accept his offer without a shadow of hesitation, but - “Is that allowed?”

Harry shrugs, and you know that’s code for absolutely not. “No one has to find out.”

(Your stomach drops, then.)

“Sure.” You take a few steps back towards him, and he spins on his heel, leading you to his car, and you walk in silence until you reach it. By the time you’re both safely in his car - his head turning every so often to check if there was anyone watching the pair of you - you’re shivering desperately, and you know you would have been positively miserable walking back to your dorm in these temperatures. “Thank you so much, Harry.”

“S’no problem, really.” His hand goes behind your seat as he turns to look behind him, and you hate the way the simple action makes you feel. “I’d rather know you get home safe than have you walk so far in the dark. Pretty girl like you, can never be too careful.”

You pause, cheek pressed against the cold window, and turn to look at him with a small smile. “Ooh, I’m a pretty girl now?”

“Wasn’t the point, Y/N,” Harry mutters, dropping his hand onto the center console, and if it were anyone else driving you like this, you’d rest your hand on top of his, intertwining your fingers and pressing your palms together. But he’s your professor, as much as you’re beginning to wish he weren’t, so you slide your hands beneath your thighs. “Which building, again?”

“McKinley,” you respond, voice barely louder than the sound of the heat blasting into his car. 

His car smells like eucalyptus and mint, and it’s surprisingly clean compared to his office - you wonder if his house is messy or clean, or a balanced mix, because you can’t quite catch a vibe for whether he’s organized or not. But, no - you’ll never see his house, surely. You can’t. 

“I used to date a girl who lived at McKinley,” he tells you, and you exhale slowly. You can tell he’s merely trying to make conversation but the sentiment isn’t making your internal conflicts any easier to manage. “Real nice dorms.”

“They’re alright.” In fact, you’ve been at university for 3 years and resided in 3 different dormitories and they’re your least favourite, with furniture that’s too big for rooms that are too small and bathrooms that can hardly fit more than 5 people, but you don’t tell him that. “Not the greatest.”

“S’what she told me, too,” Harry says, and you smile down at your lap, but you can’t find anything else to respond to that, so you take to gazing out the window.

Within a few seconds he’s slowing down, and you can recognize the back entrance to your building. You reach down and pick your bag off the ground, digging through it to find your key.

When you have it clutched in your hand, you unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to look at him - to your surprise his eyes are already on you, and you swallow thickly. “Um - thanks for driving me.”

“Don’t worry about it.” 

You hesitate a moment before turning and swinging open the car door. You hop out and, just before you can shut it, he says, “Y/N.” And when you duck your head back into his car, raising your eyebrows, he adds, “Please don’t tell anyone I drove you home. You’re right - s’not allowed.”

“Alright.” Then, before you can help yourself, you flash him a wide grin and say, “Thanks for letting me be the exception, then.”

With that, you shut the door of his car, bounding up to the door of your building, and you swear you can feel his gaze remaining on you before his car drives off, and when you turn back around, it’s gone.

(In the back of your mind, you’re entirely too aware of the fact that merely sitting in his car crossed some sort of line that you didn’t know existed until now, but you don’t really know how far past it you are - not yet.)

 --

 “I have a question.”

You look up from the rubric you’d been working at - the student whose essay you’re grading hadn’t done too well on it, but you were trying to give them the most points you could, anyway. Harry’s looking down at his essay like he hadn’t spoken, but when he feels your gaze on him, he continues. “Why did you care so much? Yesterday. Me grading more s’less work for you to do. I feel like you should be loving that shit.”

It’s a reasonable question but, for a moment, you struggle thinking of how to answer it without exposing yourself to him. Finally, you give him a grin and say, “Well, if you were sleep deprived, it would make you mean.” He chuckles softly, and you can tell that’s not the answer he wanted, and it couldn’t have been further from the truth. So you add, “I guess I’m used to being the mom friend. Making sure all of my friends get a good night’s sleep and whatever.”

Harry pauses. “So we’re friends, then.”

You shrug, trying to stop the smile from peeking through onto your face. Being friends with Harry sounds positively dreamy and if it could segue into something else - whichitcan’t - you’d be the happiest girl alive.

You nod. “Yeah, aren’t we.” But it isn’t a question, and you can see the way his eyes twinkle at your response.

After a moment, you shift in your entirely entirely entirely too bloody uncomfortable chair, the wood making your butt ache. “I have a question, now.”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you pick the most uncomfortable chair you possibly could for your guests to sit in?”

“Gets ‘em out of my office quicker.” Harry glances up and meets your glare with a laugh. “But I don’t want you to leave, so you can move to the couch, if you’d like.”

You hop out of the chair without a second’s hesitation, clutching your essay and your pen, flopping down on the couch and feeling your body weight sink into it. God, it’s so soft and your body relaxes into it, the relief of not being confined to the small, wooden chair so magnificent you could scream. Harry watches you with an amused grin, and says, “I feel like you’re being just a bit dramatic here.”

“Me? Dramatic? Never.” You sprawl yourself across the couch, head atop of the armrest, staring up at the white ceiling tiles above you. “I’m telling you, Harry, that chair is terrible. You should burn it.”

“So dramatic.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up slightly so you can rest your paper on your lap and still manage to scrawl semi-legible notes on this person’s piss poor essay. You wonder, briefly, if this is how Harry felt when he’d graded your 1984 essay, but - well - doesn’t matter now. And you’d fail that essay a thousand times over to get to this point, a point of companionship with your professor that you’re not sure any other student has felt with him before. At least, none that he’s told you about. It makes you feel special, and spectacular, and also the tiniest bit confused.

Why are you so special?

Maybe he’s lonely, or he’s merely entertaining your presence because you’re helping him grade, but you swear you can feel something more hidden within the lines of your relationship.

It doesn’t really matter, though, even if it is just a tad confusing.

“You should get going,” Harry tells you after another 15 minutes of you working at grading the essay. “You’ve been here for nearly two hours, bloody hell, wasn’t watching the time at all.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, though, in truth, you do have quite a bit of homework to work on later. “Don’t really have anything else to do.”

You sit up anyway, swinging your legs over the edge of the couch and stretching your arms above your head. Tiredness is beginning to affect you but you try not to let it.

“Well, in any case, you should be heading out now.” Harry nods his head towards the window behind him, the blinds pulled up so you can see the sun, nearly completely sunk below the horizon, the sky fading from reds and oranges to a dark shade of blue.

“What about you, professor?”

“What about me?” “You’re going home now too - right?”

He looks at you with a faux annoyed glare, but he can’t help the amusement from seeping through his features, and finally he breaks your stare with an exhale of breath. “I don’t think I’ll ever win this against you, will I?”

And you shake your head in response. “Never. So let’s go. Get your things.”

You take the next five minutes to gather all your stuff - resting the essay on top of his desk, sliding your phone and water bottle into your backpack, and zipping your bag shut - as Harry grabs his computer bag and his key. The two of you move surprisingly in sync with each other, sorting all of your stuff from around his small office, before making your way outside with him locking the door behind him.

It’s nearly completely dark, even colder than it had been the day prior. You reach behind you and pull the hood of your sweatshirt over your hair, protecting your ears, at least, from the chill.

You turn and face him, giving him a wide smile. The air is silent around you, surprisingly empty though the bitterness of the cold must be a contributing factor to that. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Professor. Make sure you get a good night’s rest -”

“Don’t want a ride?”

Your grin widens, and his eyes sparkle, even in the darkness, at your expression. “Well, of course I do, but it’s rude to invite myself into your car.”

“You’re not inviting yourself - I’m inviting you. Or, rather, demanding you. C’mon.”

Harry walks fast and you have to speed up your pace to keep up with him, though you suspect that has something to do with wanting to be free of any wandering eyes as quickly as possible. You recognize his car in the parking lot and bound ahead of him, standing by the passenger side door and wrapping your arms around yourself to try and warm yourself up, and for a moment his pace slows as he stares and looks at you. Standing by his car, holding an incredibly oversized hoodie tight to your body, a wide smile gracing your face.

“Staring is rude, professor,” you inform him as he shakes his head, unlocking his car and climbing into the driver’s seat. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you that?”

Your lilt is teasing but you can tell it makes him slightly defensive either way.

“S’hard not to sometimes,” Harry tells you, and you giggle softly.

“So first, I’m a pretty girl, and now I’m hard not to stare at?” You drop your head back against the headrest, blowing air softly out of your mouth as you reach to buckle your seatbelt. “Keep this up, Harry, and my ego’s gonna be too big to even fit in your car.”

Harry laughs at that, resting his hand on your seat to back out of his parking spot. The radio softly plays some pop song that had been overtaking the charts recently, and you hum softly to it before turning your head to look at him. You examine his side profile - perfect, like every other angle of him - as he pulls out of the parking lot, making a left out of it.

He turns to see you watching him, and you watch redness bloom over his cheeks. “Staring is rude, Y/N.”

You smile, about to parrot his previous words back at him - it’s hard not to - but you bite your tongue, gazing at the road in front of you. A light drizzle is beginning to fall, a barely audible pitterpatter on the windshield, and that’s the only noise, for a moment - that and the radio playing, like a thought in the back of your mind.

The drive to your dorm seems to be taking longer than it had been yesterday and you can’t imagine why, but you appreciate just sitting in the car with him. Even if you’re not saying much, listening to his even breathing calms you.

You want to break the silence, though it’s comfortable rather than awkward. You like talking to him, like hearing everything he has to say, but you have no idea what you can possibly tell him that wouldn’t seem forced and awkward. So you sit, curling your legs up to your chest as you stare at the streets, and entirely too soon, the back of the McKinley building becomes apparent.

You want to stay in his car forever. Want to stay with him forever.

“Thanks for the ride,” you tell him, your voice sounding uncomfortably loud in the soft car. He nods in response, but for a moment neither of you move. You can’t bring yourself to leave yet, even if you know you have to, that he might have someone waiting for him at home.

“Y/N.” You turn and look at him, your eyes meeting his with your brows furrowed. “Uh - if you ever want a ride home, or to class, you can just let me know. Text me.”

“I don’t have your number.”

Harry’s cheeks are bright pink and there’s too much tension in the car, so thick you feel like you could cut it with a knife, and you lean down, unzipping your bag and pulling your phone out.

He takes it from you once you unlock it, going into your contacts and you watch as he types his phone number in, adding the contact name as Harry S. and you think you’ll be changing that later. He leaves the contact photo blank, which you expected - if anyone saw the name Harry S. in your phone, the contact photo would give it away.

He hands your phone back to you when he’s done, and your fingers graze his when you take it. “Just text me, then. If you need a ride.”

“Alright.” you give him a smile, unbuckling your seatbelt and pushing open the car door. “Thank you, Harry. Really.”

“My pleasure,” he says, and you grab your bag, hooking your arm underneath the strap and racing up to the back entrance of your building. It’s only when you get inside, the door firmly shut behind you, that you turn around again, and his car is gone.

 --

 10:52 PM

Y/N: hey professor...it’s y/n. just wanna make sure u have my number saved in case of emergencies

Harry S.: How is it you can have the highest grade of any student in my class and use improper grammar while texting?

Y/N: it’s a talent i guess

Y/N: texting like you’re writing an essay makes ppl v uncomfortable, and i speak from personal experience

Harry S.: So you’re uncomfortable right now, then?

Y/N: nooo, ur different

Harry S.: To quote this girl I know, ‘thanks for letting me be the exception, then.’

Y/N: how did u remember that? that makes me uncomfortable

Harry S.: Haha.

Harry S.: You should be sleeping right now. Students need their full 8 hours, don’t they?

Y/N: so do professors, as i keep telling u, but…

Y/N: i had hw to do, also had to make mac n cheese for dinner

Harry S.: You can do your homework in my office, you know. And then you can probably make it to the refectory for dinner.

Y/N: the food at the refectory sucks

Harry S.: Yeah, you’re right.

Harry S.: But I do feel bad that staying to help me grade made you have to stay up until 11 doing homework.

Y/N: well honestly i’d rather be sitting in ur office talking to u than in my dorm doing american lit work

Harry S.: Why’s that?

Y/N: ig i like hanging out with u

Y/N: u should feel honored btw

Harry S.: Believe me, I do. And now you should get to bed so you’re not grumpy tomorrow morning.

Y/N: ig i deserved that… and i’ll only go to bed if u do too

Harry S.: I will.

Y/N: promise??

Harry S.: I promise.

Harry S.: Goodnight.

Y/N: goodnight, professor

 --

 After a week, your arrangement has changed slightly.

Every day, you spend just a bit more time in his office. Then he drives you home, in comfortable silence, and from the minute you step into your dorm, you’re fishing your phone out of your bag to text him. Every night that you lie awake, texting him until you physically can’t keep your eyes open, the line that you’ve been dipping your toe across falls back even more.

The stack of assignments that need to be graded are beginning to dwindle, and you hate it. Hate to see the pile of ungraded work getting smaller and smaller, because when it’s gone, you probably won’t step foot in his office again.

Truthfully, and as embarrassing as it may be, Harry has become one of your closest friends at school. He’s funny and nice, and he brought you hot chocolate with powder left unmixed at the bottom after you mentioned that’s how you used to like it when you were younger, and he plays music on his phone at a low volume while you work on grading. 

Of course, as your friendship with Harry grows, so does the burning feelings for him that reside in the pit of your stomach day after day. And you know he doesn’t feel the same - he can’t - and maybe that’s painful for you, only slightly, but you’ve become rather talented at hiding those emotions. He can’t know that, everytime he laughs at one of your jokes, your heart swells - and everytime he reads a sentence from one of the essays out loud, using a mocking, deep voice, it makes your stomach flip.

You don’t know if you’ve ever felt so passionately about anyone, and that’s scary. Scary to think that the one man you want more than anyone else is the only person you can’t have.

“Y/N,” he says, and when you look up at him from your spot sprawled on the couch, he’s nibbling at the tip of his pen. “D’you think this makes sense?”

And he reads you a few lines written by one of his students - a name you recognize from being in your class, you think, but you’ve been paying attention less and less to other students during lectures. All you focus on is Harry, his booming voice projecting through the hall as he talks about the stories you’re reading, and every so often his eyes meet yours and the smile that spreads across his face could bring tears to your eyes, if you let it.

“Um - I guess. It’s worded kind of strangely, don’t you think? But I’d cut them some slack on it.” Harry nods and scribbles something in the margins of Nathalie Carron’s essay before flipping the page. “Can I put in a song request?”

He nods, then, picking up his phone from where it sits on his desk. The Chain plays softly, not too loud to interrupt your train of thought, but not too soft that you can’t hear it. “‘Course.”

“Heroes by David Bowie.” You glance back up at him, dropping Hannah Joseph’s essay on your stomach. “You like Bowie, right?”

“Who doesn’t, is the real question.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You grin, glancing up at the white tiled ceiling as the song fills the hair, replacing Fleetwood. “You know, we should make a playlist for grading.”

Harry laughs. “A playlist of just Fleetwood and a dash of Bowie?”

“No, no. It can have other stuff, too. I mean, we know what we like.”

“Alright, alright.” He picks up his phone again, and you see his thumbs moving feverishly on the screen. “Y’know what, I’ll make it right now and show it to you for approval.”

“Make it good.” You pause, picking your essay up again. “No Justin Bieber.”

He snorts, and you relish in the noise.

The next ten minutes passes in mainly silence - when Heroes ends, Fleetwood continues, playing Secondhand News, and you hum to the tune. Harry’s ringer is on and you can hear it, the sound of the keyboard on his phone as he searches up song titles, and you rest the essay back on your stomach, writing messy notes with the pen you snatched from the mug on his desk again.

You sit up, suddenly, leaning over to rest Hannah’s fully graded essay on his desk, and instead of reaching for a new one to work on, you push yourself to your knees, resting your palms on his desk and attempting to lean over and peek at the playlist. But he anticipates that - he knows you’re nosy - and tilts his phone towards him, intercepting your attempts to eavesdrop.

“Don’t be impatient,” he murmurs, a smile tugging across his lips as he scrolls through something. “I’m almost done.”

You hum in response, dropping back down onto the couch, stretching your entire body across it, head resting on the armrest. The two of you settle back into a comfortable silence - he’s paused the music, by now - lasting only a moment or two before he stands up from his insanely comfortable chair, maneuvering his way around to the couch where you’re lying. He crouches down next to you, handing you his phone, opened to a Spotify playlist, and you greedily snatch the device from him, flicking through the songs.

Your eyes scan every song, absorbing every song title.

I Walk The Line by Johnny Cash - My Eyes Adored You by the Four Seasons - Your Song by Elton John?

Love songs. Every single one of them.

You push yourself up, sitting leaning against the armrest, as your eyes fall on the last song of the playlist - When I Kissed The Teacher by Abba. You lower his phone to your lap, looking at him with a slightly confused smile adorning your face.

He watches you intently, your heads a mere few inches apart, then reaches down to grab his phone off your lap, and you laugh lightly before saying, “it’s a lot of love songs.”

“They reminded me of you,” he tells you, voice quiet, testing the waters.

“They - they did?” It doesn’t make sense to you - doesn’t make sense that 45 love songs should bring you to the forefront of his mind, that every single time he hears Fooled Around And Fell In Love he should think of you. 

They make you think of him, though. 

And without thinking - of what you’re doing or of the consequences - you lean in, closing the short distance between your faces, pressing your lips against his so softly that it feels like it’s a mere breath on your mouth.

Harry pulls back, lips barely a centimeter from yours, exhaling softly. “We shouldn’t.”

You hum in agreement, already leaning back in. “No, we really shouldn’t.”

Your lips meet again and his hand goes to your face, cupping your jaw, and when he deepens the kiss you whimper into his mouth, bringing both of your hands to the back of his head. Your fingers bury themselves in his curls, tugging on the chocolate brown strands, and he groans softly into your mouth.

It’s everything you’d imagined and more, as the hand not on your cheek drops down to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. The angle is awkward - you sitting on the couch and him kneeling before it - so you unattach your lips, much to your dismay, and swing your legs around the edge of the couch so he’s situated between them. Harry’s eyes are wide, his hair mussed up, and you lean back in without a moment’s hesitation to resume the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, and he tastes like mint tea and fucking heaven.

Both of his hands go down to your waist, tugging you to the very edge of the couch so your bodies are as close as they can be, and yours go to the back of his neck, dipping underneath the collar of his button down shirt to scratch at his back. It feels muscular, more toned than you were expecting, and feeling the skin underneath your nails makes you moan into his mouth.

“Fuck -” you groan softly as he moves his lips down your chin and to your jaw, nibbling softly at your skin, as if experimenting to see what you like - your reaction prompts him to move further down, licking a stripe down your neck and to the base of your collarbone. One of his hands - very large hands - slide up to cup one of your breasts, squeezing the mound of flesh through your tight shirt. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Harry hums against your collarbone, pressing open mouthed kisses across your skin. Your nails dragging down his back causes him to bite down gently to stifle the moan rising from his throat, but you hear it and Goditspursyouonsofuckingmuch. “God, Y/N -”

His praise is cut short by the sound of three swift knocks on the door - he pulls back from you, nearly falling back on his ass with the speed at which he stands, and your eyes flash to the door. Your heart is pounding desperately in your chest - are the doors soundproof? Did someone outside hear you? The thought makes you sick to your stomach, and your eyes meet Harry’s to find the same worry in his orbs.

Within moments he’s back behind his desk, running a hand through his hair to try and smooth it out, and you’ve reached to grab Hannah Joseph’s essay off his desk just as he calls, “come in!” in a voice that’s far too cheery for the panic that had just overtaken the both of you.

The door opens and from the corner of your eye you can recognize the girl who walks in - she lives across the hall from you, and her name is … Anna or Emma or something similar. She’s nice, and you should remember her name, but your brain is so scrambled that you can’t think of it.

Harry kissing you. Harry making you a playlist. Harry’s hands on your waist, pulling your body into his.

It’s everything you’ve dreamt of since the beginning of the semester, feeling his touch on you. And when you close your eyes, you try to imagine what would have happened if nobody knocked on the door, and it sends a shiver down your spine that doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry, sitting at his desk as he looks over Anna-or-Emma’s essay.

You can’t be here. You shouldn’t be here. The girl (who, now that you think of it, may be named Alana) is asking Harry a million bogus questions about the essay requirements he’d just given out and her shirt is so low cut that you’re surprised her boobs haven’t fallen out. Whether that was intentional or not isn’t something you dwell on, but something about sitting on the couch, trying to steady your breathing while your clit throbs violently feels wrong.

“I’m gonna go, professor,” you say, interrupting her question, and she looks at you like you just told her you’re going to give her a million dollars. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Y/N,” Harry calls as you grab your bag and shut the door behind you. His voice sounds pained, almost, as though he doesn’t want you to leave him alone with a girl whose only goal is clearly to fuck his brains out. You practically run down the hall, which isn’t close to being as empty as it usually is when you and Harry leave at the end of the day. 

Your shirt is tight and short sleeved and you can picture your jacket, up in his office, thrown over the back of the couch. You’d been in such a rush to leave that you’d left it, and you’re beginning to truly feel the consequences of it as the cold corners you, attacking your skin, and you could go back up to his office and get it but you just want to go home. The sun is setting, and it’s earlier than when you usually leave.

The walk home is decidedly miserable, the wind sending tears streaking down your cheeks, and your mind is practically going into overdrive. Jesus Christ. You kissed your professor, and he kissed you back. And then you left, like a fucking idiot. He probably feels terrible - feels like he violated you, or ruined his career. But he hadn’t done anything wrong, not really. If you were more respectable you’d go back to his building and apologize for running out, wrap your arms around him and kiss him like you fucking mean it, but all you do is scan your card to get into McKinley and walk down the hall to your dorm.

Your roommate is out - at her boyfriend’s, as per usual, but you appreciate it. Truth be told, you haven’t seen her much since the first few weeks of the semester, but she seemed nice enough. You drop your bag onto your bed and collapse on top of the covers, gazing up at the ceiling.

You bring your hand up to your mouth, brushing your fingertips over your lips with the same feather light touch that the first press of Harry’s lips to yours had felt like. You can still feel it - feel him - if you close your eyes, his hands grasping your hips and his lips trailing down your collarbone.

Slowly, you press your palm to your stomach, trailing it down your torso until you reach the button of your jeans. You undo it with shaky fingers and push them lower down, beneath the hem of your cotton thong, and the first brush of your fingertips against your clit sends a shiver down your spine and a whine falling off your lips.

Harry’s hand on your chest, squeezing your breast through your shirt as he kisses down your neck - oh my god, licking down your neck, biting your skin, his eyes are so wide, his hair is messy from where you grabbed it, and you hadn’t been interrupted he would’ve climbed on top of you, pressing you into the couch, tugging your jeans down your thighs and -

Maybe he would’ve done what you’re doing now, sliding his digits into your heat, fingers longer than yours, hitting every spot that you need him to. Or maybe he would’ve slid down your body, lifting your shirt to suck a deep purple mark into your chest, before burying his face in your cunt -

A very loud moan falls from your lips as you push a finger inside of yourself, curling them immediately to hit the spot inside of you that makes your tummy flip.

But maybe - just maybe - Harry wouldn’t have bothered with that. Would’ve watched, breathing so heavy as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his nice dress pants to wrap your hand around his cock, throwing his head back and moaning as you swiped your thumb over the tip of him.

You’re so close so fast you can practically taste the orgasm creeping up on you, your hips bucking up to meet where your fingers are feverishly rubbing circles on your clit.

And he would’ve slid into you, and he’s so big that he’s stretching you out more than any of your fingers or the guy you’ve been with, and he’d grab your chin and force your head up and kiss you so fucking hard, his hips flush against yours -

With a strangled cry, you curl your fingers once more and then you’re cumming, release coating your fingers as your hips roll into your hand. All you can think about is him and what could have happened, and the fact that you may have ruined the start of something magnificent, but God if the orgasm wasn’t good.

You pull your hand out of your panties, wiping your dripping fingers on the denim of your jeans. For a moment, you merely stare back up at the ceiling, focusing on steadying your breathing, and then you stand up, kicking your jeans off your legs and tossing them onto your dresser. You have a pair of plaid pajama pants crumbled in a pile at the bottom of your bed from the morning, and you pull them over your legs with a sigh. Perhaps it’s not the height of cleanliness, but they’re soft and comfortable, and you lie back down on your bed once they’re on.

After nearly an hour, you still haven’t done anything but sit and do nothing, occasionally flicking through your phone. You wish you could fall asleep but your brain is working far too fast to even think about resting, and -

The sound of your phone getting a notification startles you, and you groan, grabbing your phone to look at whoever disturbed your panic.

Harry S.: I’m behind your building. I have your jacket.

He’s here? Jesus Christ, you just came over him and damn near cried over him and now you have to see him.

Perfect.

Your heart skips a beat, and you jump up without a second thought. You look an absolute fool, stuffing your feet into the first pair of shoes you can find - a pair of slip on Vans that are so dirty they can barely constitute as white - before you’re running out the door, your phone tucked in the waistband of your pants, heading down the hall and out the back entrance where Harry’s black car sits, waiting.

You walk up to his car, pathetically out of breath, and lower your head so you can see him through the window as he rolls it down.

“Hi.” Your tone is quiet, and you clear your throat. “Um, I’m sorry about running off like that. I just got overwhelmed and that girl showing up made me - um - nervous.”

“It’s fine,” Harry says, though he’s very pointedly not making eye contact. “M’sorry if I crossed a line. I shouldn’t have kissed you like that, or -”

“No, I kissed you first -”

“But I’m your professor.” He says the word with an odd inflection, nearly pained. “I shouldn’t have let it escalate. I’m sorry.”

You dig the toe of your shoe into the road, looking down at the passenger seat where your jacket sits, waiting. The tension is palpable and you swallow thickly, then grab the car handle, forcing the door open so you can grab your jacket. You wrap the fabric around your shoulders - the seat heaters made it warm and you could nearly cry at the way it embraces you.

Harry watches you - you can see him from the corner of your eye - and then he looks down at your body, your shirt and your pajama pants with no pockets, and asks, “D’you have your key to go back in your dorm? S’just, you don’t have any pockets … I can’t see it.”

Shit. No, you don’t. You hadn’t thought about that when you were running out to see him. Perhaps he can decide the answer from the way your face drops, because he exhales with a small smile, barely perceptible, and nods his head. “Get in.”

You grab the door handle again, pulling the door open and climbing inside. The seat is toasty and warm and the car is toasty and warm and altogether you feel like both of those adjectives combined. The radio plays softly - or maybe it’s his phone, hooked up to the aux cord, because Maybe I’m Amazed by Paul McCartney is a song you recognize reading on the playlist he’d made.  You slam the door shut and wrap your arms around yourself, holding your jacket closer to your body, before turning your head to glance at him. He still hasn’t started driving, merely gazing at you, and you feel your skin heat under his eyes. “Where are we going, professor?” It’s a stupid question, because you aren’t going anywhere yet, and he doesn’t look like he plans to start driving anytime soon.

“I’ll take you back to my apartment.” HIs eyes haven’t left yours, and your stomach turns. “How does that sound?”

You exhale softly. “Sounds perfect,” and then you’re leaning in, pressing your cold palms to the side of his cheeks and bringing his face into yours.

Your lips meet and it’s more desperate than it was in his office - teeth clashing and your tongues brushing against each other, as if he’s trying to devour you. His hand rests atop of yours, dwarfing you pathetically, before dragging his fingertips down your arm and up to your shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the sleeve of your shirt.

Where you’re cold from the air outside, Harry is so warm and toasty, his breath hot against your face when you pull away briefly. He presses his forehead to yours and then leans up, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose and smirking at the whimper you let out.

“Wait,” he tells you, voice low and quiet, and you nod slowly. “When we get to my apartment - but not now.”

You nod feverishly and sit back in your seat obediently, desperate for him to finally start driving. His hand rests on top of the center console and you stare at it for a moment - you can do it, do what you’ve wanted to do every single time he’s driven you home - and you place your palm overtop of his. He turns it over so your palms are pressed together, fingers intertwining, and you’re sure he can hear your heartbeat with how loudly it’s beating in your chest.

The line that you’ve crossed is so far behind you that it’s a mere dot in the distance. 

The car ride to his apartment is short - only 2 full songs play during it, and you recognize My Girl and I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight from the playlist. Truth be told, it feels as though you’d been in the car for hours and hours, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of your hand. You want nothing more than to crawl across the center console and straddle him, kiss him until you’re both breathless and go as far as you’d fantasized about but you have to wait.

 --

 Harry’s unlocking the door of his apartment entirely too slow for your liking. It’s as though he’s trying to tease you, make you antsy, when all you want is for him to press you against the wall and kiss you silly. 

He lives in a large brick apartment building - one of the newer ones, you know - in an apartment on the third floor. You’ve passed his building so many times driving through town and you never even knew it - didn’t know the man who lived there was someone you’d be so desperate for.

“Come on,” he whispers, though there’s no real reason for the two of you to be quiet - perhaps it just fits the mood. Harry��s hand wraps around your wrist as he tugs you into the now-open door of his apartment, flicking on the light switch residing beside the door. 

As light floods the apartment you’re somehow both surprised and also not at all. It’s surprisingly tidy, resembling more of his car than his office, and - to your relief - it’s quite obvious he’s the only one who lives here. You slip out of your Vans and take a moment to look around. A cat sits on top of the couch (her name is Marie, named after Aristocats, you learned from class) and you can’t stop yourself from gravitating towards her, using two fingers to stroke down her back as you peek around the apartment.

Yes, it is quite clean, and surprisingly colorful - there’s a striped rug and red couches and your eyes fly a bookshelf filled with picture frames against the wall. One is him with four other guys, arms wrapped around each other - one of him and Marie - one of him, significantly younger, hugging a girl who looks extremely similar to him.

“Is this your sister?” you ask, unaware of where he is in the apartment but trusting he hasn’t strayed too far from you.

“Yeah,” he responds, and you jump slightly. Harry stands just behind you, and when you turn to face him he’s fighting back a grin. “So nosy, aren’t you?”

You raise your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling his head down to yours as his hands gravitate down towards your lower back where your shirt rises just a couple inches from your pants, exposing a strip of skin, and his touch sends a shiver down your spine. “I guess I am nosy. Can’t help it.”

Harry leans down, then, pressing a kiss to your forehead and down the bridge of your nose before landing on your lips - you whine into his mouth, pushing yourself onto your toes to try and deepen it, swiping your tongue into his mouth. It’s so different than before - heavier, deeper, and you can’t get enough of it.

“Please,” you whimper against his lips as his hands creep farther down your back, landing on the globes of your ass through your soft pajama pants. “I need you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You can hear a sense of cockiness working its way into his voice and you groan softly as he pulls away from you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “What do you need, baby? Tell me.”

You need everything. You need everything he can possibly give you and more - you need wish fulfillment of everything you’ve dreamt of since the start of the semester and that includes every single goddamn appendage on his body put to use somehow.

But you can’t possibly begin to tell him that, not yet. His fingers are already trailing down to the waistband of your pants, tugging at the tie that holds them up when you breathe, “Your mouth. Please, I need - I need your mouth.”

It’s not enough for him, you can tell, as he leans down to press a kiss to the side of your throat, sucking softly. “M’using my mouth.”

“H - Harry …”

“Where d’you want my mouth?”

You curse beneath your breath, and he pulls his head back to raise his eyebrows at the sound. You bury your hand in his hair, tugging lightly on his curls, before squeezing your eyes shut and muttering, “Want your mouth … down there.”

As much as you want it - and Godyouwantitsofuckingmuch - it makes it no less awkward to say it out loud.

“Down where, baby?” Harry asks, voice teasing and so fucking smug. “Down here?” His hand sprawls across your stomach, pressing down on your abdomen and you moan softly. “No … down here, s’that right?”

His hand slides down to your cunt, pressing his palm overtop of you through your pajama pants and you’re so wet you’re sure he can feel it even through two layers of fabric. Your throaty cry in response and the feverish nod of your head confirms what he’d been teasing you about, and Harry delivers one last soft kiss to your lips before dropping to his knees before you.

Fuck. You never thought you’d see Professor Harry Styles, the man of your dreams and the one person you considered to be entirely unattainable, kneeling in front of you with his nice dress pants on and a crisp button up shirt. He looks entirely normal, save for his messy hair and lust blown pupils, and you’re sure you look a bloody mess but his eyes still devour you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You drop your shaky hands down to the tie of your pants, undoing it at record speed, and he hooks his fingers in your waistband. Slowly - so slowly - Harry tugs them down and his eyes remain on you as though expecting you to stop him, but you can’t. Finally they pool by your feet and you lift your legs to kick them off, sending them flying near the couch where Marie resides.

Had you known this would be happening perhaps you would have opted for racier panties - your cotton thong isn’t terrible but it certainly isn’t doing you any favours, and you have so many lace ones at home that would have been perfect for the opportunity - but Harry still looks at you like you created the world. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh and then the other, leaning in to suck a dark purple hickey into your skin.

You suppose he has a thing for hickeys.

Your fingers twist in his curls, trying to direct his head up to where you truly need him, and he chuckles softly - the soft exhalation of air makes you whine as it hits your cunt, even through your panties. A soft kiss is what he lands on your clothed clit, and your hips buck up into his mouth. You’d forgotten, perhaps, that you’d had an orgasm less than an hour prior but you’re very swiftly reminded, and he looks up at you with a smirk.

“So reactive,” he murmurs, wrapping his lips around your clit through your underwear and sucking softly. “Just the way I like.”

A shaky breath escapes your mouth as you toss your head back, legs shaking and you can’t expect them to hold you up much longer. One of his hands moves to the back of your thigh, kneading your skin softly, and the other dips into the hem of your panties and slowly tugs them down. You’re so wet that the fabric is desperate to stick to your dripping cunt but he manages to roll them down your legs, face to face with your pussy and -

Heat floods through your body and up to your face as you look down and make eye contact with Harry. Now that he’s down there, gazing at your bare pussy, you feel oddly compelled to protect whatever modesty you have left and shut your legs but then he grabs one of your legs and throws it over his shoulder, pushing you back just a bit until your back smacks into the wall, and leans in.

The first stripe he licks up your core sends a choked cry from the back of your throat and then a long whine as Harry focuses his attention on your clit. His tongue flicks the swollen bud, still rubbing circles into the back of your thigh. Your heel digs into his back as he moves one hand up to your cunt, running his finger through your soaked folds before pushing it inside of you.

He curls his finger, mimicking a come hither motion until he brushes against the spot that makes your hips jerk against his face. Harry’s lips wrap around your clit and when your eyes roll back into your head, he takes his hand off your thigh and snaps his fingers.

“Look at me,” he demands, voice muffled against your cunt, and the vibrations roll through your body like an earthquake. “I wanna watch you fall apart. Look at me.”

Slowly you lower your eyes back down to him, meeting his gaze as he pulls his mouth away briefly - smacks his lips - and pushes a second finger into your dripping heat. As he thrusts them in and out, hitting that sweet spot in your velvet walls, you can feel your orgasm building in the pit of your tummy embarrassingly fast, but you want to hold out for him. Want to prolong this as long as you can.

Harry’s teeth brush against your clit and you cry out, barely hearing the way he groans, “So fucking reactive for me, yeah?” but you can hear it and it only makes you moan louder. His tongue draws patterns over your clit and he’s so determined to maintain eye contact but you can tell it’s a struggle for both of you.

He pulls his fingers out of you, licking a thin stripe up one of them as if he can’t get enough of your taste before reaching his arm up so his fingers rest on your bottom lip. Obediently you open your mouth, accepting his digits and swirling your tongue around them, tasting yourself on his skin, as he leans back, glancing up at you with heat blazing in his eyes.

“You’re close,” he tells you, his voice deep and throaty. “Can feel it - feel how you’re clenching around my fingers, baby. D’you wanna cum? Tell me how fucking bad you want it.”

Harry pulls his fingers from your mouth and presses them to your clit, rubbing a slow circle as you struggle to find your voice before gasping, “Fuck - need to cum so fucking bad Harry - Harry, oh my god -”

“Yeah? Gonna cum for me?”

“Yes! Oh my god, H - Harry -”

“Cum for me, baby.”

He leans in, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking and that’s all you need to topple over the edge, the orgasm that had been building in the pit of your tummy finally exploding. Your head falls back against the wall with a thud that’s hardly audible over your loud shrieks and moans, your leg finally giving out and you damn near slide to the ground before Harry hooks an arm around your thigh to keep you upright.

His tongue flicks at your clit gently, riding you through your orgasm, and when you’re coming down from your high it’s all you can focus on. There’s a high pitched ringing in your ears and you don’t think you’ve ever - ever - cum that hard in your life. You’d only been with one guy before who didn’t even know women could orgasm and your fingers never gave you anything so earth shattering.

Your breathing comes out in desperate pants as Harry rises from his knees, moving both hands to your hips as your legs nearly collapse again. Your clit is throbbing and when you press your body to his, leaning up to kiss him so desperately, you can feel his boner, hard against your thigh.

“Holy shit, professor.” It’s all you can manage, pulling away to drop your head against his chest, using the moment to try and steady your breaths. “W - who knew you were so good at that.”

His fingers brush through the ends of your hair, a gesture so sweet and innocent that it could make you forget what just occurred. “A hidden talent, I guess,” he mutters, gripping your chin to kiss you again.

You drop your hands to his waist, gripping his nice button down shirt in your tight grasp, surely wrinkling the fabric as you roll your hips against his. Even through his pants his hard on feels fucking huge and you’ve only been with one guy before and suddenly you’re wondering if he’ll even fit inside of you.

But you’ll try. By god, you’ll try. And you press your head to the wall, looking up at him with lust dilated pupils. “Harry.”

“Tell me what you need, baby.” But he already knows, and you can tell he needs the same thing.

You swallow, bucking your hips forward against his boner, and he groans. “I want you to fuck me. Please. I - I need you to fuck me, professor.”

The word makes him moan aloud, and within barely a second he’s grabbing your wrist, tugging you away from the wall and across the apartment until he’s swinging open a door and pulling you inside.

Something about being in his bedroom is entirely different than being in his living room, the carpet beneath your bare feet plush and soft. There’s a large television in front of his bed and the bed is made beautifully, a flannel blanket tossed over the end, and you can’t fucking wait to mess it up.

Harry spins you around to face him, attaching your lips once more as he shuts the door. You whimper into his mouth as his hand drops down to your bare bum, squeezing the flesh in his large palm. “Sorry,” you murmur, voice high pitched and breathy, “was nosing again -”

He groans as you drop your hand to the front of his fancy dress pants, trying desperately to undo the button with one shaking hand. It’s a struggle and finally he chuckles breathlessly, dropping both hands down to help you with the task, and finally you reach your hand into his trousers and press your palm against his cock, hot and heavy even through his boxers.

“Bed,” he grunts, backing you up until the back of your knees hit a hard edge and you fall backwards onto his plush duvet. He stands above you, breathing heavily, and for a moment you stare at each other, as though processing that this is happening - and the moment picks up again. Harry reaches down and tugs at the bottom hem of your shirt, pulling it up and off your body and sending it into the corner of the room. Your bra is lace, at least, and decidedly prettier than your panties, and for a moment he stares down at your chest with a look of pure lust adorning his face.

“You look a bit flushed, professor,” you tell him, voice faux innocent and sounding entirely more confident than you feel. “Are you feeling okay?”

Harry chuckles through gritted teeth, and you push yourself onto your elbows so you can work at the buttons of his shirt as he tugs his pants down his legs. “I’ve never been better, in fact.” His boxers are flannel and you can see the bulge in his boxers, and it’s even bigger than what you’d expected.

Your work at undoing his buttons slows down as your mind suddenly flips into overdrive - you must wear the worry that suddenly overtakes you because Harry leans down, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“When’s the last time you’ve done this?” he questions, voice soft and spun sugar sweet.

“Um -” you try and think. The last time you’d done this you’d lost your virginity and that was - “A year ago. Maybe longer.”

Harry nods, nudging your nose with his and giving you one final kiss before rising back up. His hands replace yours as he works on unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m going to go slow, baby. I promise.”

In every fantasy you’ve had about him, he’s not slow - he’s fast, pounding you so hard the bed is nearly louder than the noises you make - but now that you’re here with him? Maybe you need slow.

You nod, and he smiles down at you. He presses his hands onto the mattress and then snakes them beneath you, fingers working at the clasp of your bra, and you lift yourself up slightly so he can undo it and slide your last piece of clothing off of you. He sends it into another part of the room and you can’t be bothered to focus on it because - Christ! - all of a sudden Harry lowers his mouth to your breast, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples and sucking.

“Fuck!” you gasp, fingers working themselves into his curls. Your fingernails scratch at his scalp and he moans lowly against your skin. Harry lifts his head off of you, pinching one of your nipples so you cry out.

He lifts one leg to rest on the bed and then grips your hips, pulling you closer to the edge. Your legs instinctively spread and he watches you, breathing heavily. “Baby,” he mutters, hands slipping his boxers down his thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

Heat burns your cheeks and you shut your eyes.

“Look at me,” Harry tells you, and it’s all you can do to obey. “Want you looking at me while I fuck you. Can you do that?”

You nod, swallowing as he grips one of your calves and hikes it onto the bed, exposing your sensitive, dripping cunt to him. You look down your body, where he’s grasping his achingly fucking hard cock in his hand, and then he drags the tip down your slit with a low hiss.

“Are you ready, baby?” he asks, voice soft and strained, as if he’s holding back and you know he is. But he needs this to be a good experience for you so it can be good for him and that’s what you appreciate.

“Y - yeah.” you push yourself onto your elbows and your eyes meet, maintaining perfect eye contact as he pushes himself inside of you. He’s going achingly slow and -

The stretch aches and you drop your head onto the mattress with a groan, Harry’s hand immediately finding your hand where you’re grasping the duvet feverishly. He bottoms out, fully sheathed in your warm cunt, a low groan piercing the air at the feeling of your walls, tight around him. It hurts - not as much as you’d expected, and the pain that quite literally fills you overtakes the burn.

You squeeze his hand, feeling his other run up and down the inside of your thigh as you adjust to him. “Oh - my god - wait - just - just one second wait one second -”

“Of course,” he breathes, and his voice is shaky with an emotion you can’t quite decipher. “T - take your time, babygirl.”

After a few seconds you push your head up to look at him, nodding slightly. “Okay. I need more, p - professor.”

You can tell he likes when you call him that and in some weird way you love it too - love knowing that the professor everyone lusts for is fucking you, slowly pulling out before thrusting back in, squeezing your hand when you cry out at the feeling. Maybe you’re not the first student to experience him like this but based on his demeanor you think you are - there’s something about him in this moment that feels like a secret you’ve discovered.

“Oh - fuck -” Harry grunts as he moves his hand from your thigh to your hip, pressing your body down with just enough force to limit your movements. It’s paining him, going so slow, you can tell - and you’re already starting to need more from him. You need him to go faster, and with a breathy moan you tell him.

Slowly his pace picks up, his grip on your hip tightening until you’re sure there’ll be fingerprint shaped bruises on your skin by tomorrow morning. With every thrust he fills you up so completely that every perfect spot inside of you is hit just right, and you never knew it could feel this good.

Every noise of his that tears through the bedroom spurs you on, pushing your hips into his to deepen every thrust. And every time you whine or whimper or cry or anything Harry delivers a harder thrust, fucking you so deep that you can feel it in the pit of your tummy.

“God, p - professor,” you moan, the word falling entirely too naturally off your lips even in your heightened state. Harry throws his head back with a high pitched whine, speeding up his pace until the loudest noise in the room is skin hitting skin. “Holy shit - fuck - I’m gonna - gonna -”

“Gonna cum around my cock, baby?” He hisses, pressing the hand that had once resided on your hip into the mattress, gripping the covers tighter so he can rail his hips into yours desperately. “So fucking tight around me, can’t even fucking stand it -”

Your hand, shaking beyond belief, slides down to rub hard circles into your clit. The sensations on your clit and his cock, rutting against your G spot with every thrust, sends you over the edge again - already so overstimulated from the rather intense orgasm you’d had before - and with a loud cry-bordering-on-scream you’re cumming again.

“Fuck!” you moan, hips bucking up against his as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. “Fuck, Harry, oh my god -”

He’s not far behind you, hips stuttering ever so slightly but he wants to bring you to one more orgasm, securing this day as the best fuck of your (admittedly limited) sex life and he can’t cum yet. Your hand falls back onto the mattress and Harry pulls his clammy hand from yours, bringing it down to replace your fingers on your clit, and immediately you clench around his cock, begging incoherently for something - you’re not sure what - as he presses down on your clit hard.

Your eyes roll back into your head as his cock twitches inside of you, and grunts and moans are flying from Harry’s mouth faster than he can control it. Your walls flutter around his dick, his thrusts slowing to lazy pumps in and out. He’s so fucking close, he just needs one more push and then -

Your fingers wrap around his wrist and he looks down at you, your eyes nearly black with desire, tears streaking down your cheeks. “C - cum in me, professor.”

It’s the final straw for Harry, and with a nearly animalistic cry he sheathes himself fully inside of you and cums so hard so fast, it’s nearly violent, and the feeling of warmth that explodes in your cunt sends you into your fourth orgasm of the night -

It’s less intense than the others but still entirely too prominent and when you’ve finally rode out the last wave you collapse against the bed, your head spinning and your legs aching as Harry presses it back down from where it had been perched up.

Harry collapses on top of you, his body suffocating and hot and sweaty and you wrap your arms around him, your desperate attempts at steadying your breathing filling the room. You’ve never cum so hard and so much and you’re fucking exhausted, truthfully.

He lifts his head, gazing down at you as you run your fingers through his tangled, sweat soaked curls. “How was that?”

You exhale with a smile upturning your lips, beginning to feel his cum dripping out of your pussy and down your thighs. “Jesus Christ,” you murmur, and a grin breaks onto his face as he drops his forehead against your shoulder.

The two of you lie in silence for a moment - no words need to be spoken. Harry shifts the pair of you further up the bed, your head crashing onto one of his pillows as he remains, firmly on top of you, like he never wants to leave.

But you can’t stop yourself from asking the question burning through your mind, and you swallow thickly before mumbling, “Harry -”

He hums softly.

“Is this like - a one time thing?”

His head lifts again, chin pressed to your shoulder blade, eyebrows furrowed. Harry takes a moment to respond, though, lifting his hand to trace a line across your jawline to your lips, and you press a soft kiss to the tips of his fingers when he arrives at his destination. “I don’t think so,” he tells you, and his voice is quiet and vulnerable, as if waiting for you to deny him. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”

You smile softly, leaning in to press a kiss against his soft lips. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“‘Course, baby.”

The name makes your tummy flutter, and you think you could listen to him call you baby for the rest of your life. “I’ve dreamt of this,” you tell him, lips merely a centimeter from his. “Since the beginning of the semester, every night.”

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, and you giggle at his expression. “Glad to know I’m not the only one.”

You shut your eyes, then. Rest your head on his pillow, feeling warm with the man you adore pressed on top of you, his arms firmly and protectively wrapped around you. Nothing has ever felt more right to you, and you drift off to sleep with a soft smile still gracing your lips.

[frombeyondtheblackhole]

Hermit DSMP Swap AU: Part 8

X helped Grian sit back down and handed Grian a clean rag from his inventory. Grian pressed it against his nose to curb the bleeding as X checked his eyes. X asked Grian several basic questions before asking him to count backwards from 100 by sevens and listened as his friend struggled. 

“100… 97 no 93… 87... um... um, ow-” He faltered, staring into space for a long moment. 

“You’ve got a concussion.” X shook his head.

“Can’t I just take a health pot and get back to work?” Grian asked.

X folded his arms and shook his head “Health pot’s don’t work like that. You know how when you take a health pot the cuts all seal up just leaving some bruising. A concussion is just a bruise on your brain so it would be kind of useless. Regen might help a little because it boosts your body's natural healing process but it has the same problem as health in that it won't target bruising. I would avoid coffee for now and anything else with speed pots in it for that matter,” X added, noticing Grian reaching for his unfinished coffee mug.

Grian pouted “What can I do?” 

“You can go home and rest... though you probably shouldn’t be flying for a while. I’ll walk back with you.”

Grian sighed and let X help him to his feet. To be honest he was starting to like the idea of resting, his head was spinning and he was having trouble focusing. “Alright, you win. Just be sure to let me know if you figure anything out about the whole server problem will you.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll be the first to know,”

---

The day before, Scar and Grian had given Skeppy and George a tour of Boatem. Scar had offered to let the two of them stay in his landboat (As it had more space than Grian’s house) till they could make their own starter bases. 

Skeppy had been startled when, as soon as it started to get dark, the sun blipped in the sky and it was on the other horizon. George explained to him that the night was skipped here, something to do with a Time King named B-dubs. He apparently could cause night to skip for everyone if he slept. George wished he could do cool things like that when he slept, as it was, all he did was talk to demons or gods or whatever XD was. Skeppy insisted that was way cooler than time powers. George didn’t believe him.

Grian had left to work with X on the server problem and Scar was off gathering some stuff to help get them settled in. This left Skeppy and George alone to snoop around Boatem town on their own. They explored Scar’s base but soon became tired of that and went outside. 

They were nosing around Grian’s base and the nether portal when Skeppy noticed something odd. There were a lot of things here he had never seen before but this felt different somehow. It was about a foot in diameter, dark and smooth and round, shining with a deep purple iridescence, and it seemed to call to Skeppy, like the egg, like the blood vines. It called to him, not quite with words but more with instinct, urging him to touch it. Skeppy reached out-

“What’s that you found?” George called snapping Skeppy out of his trance. 

“I have no clue,” Skeppy shrugged.

George came closer and squinted behind his glasses, bringing his face close to the things surface. The air around it tingled like static. “I never saw one myself but I think it might be a Dragon egg,” George said, reaching his hand out to touch it.

Skeppy shoved George out of the way and grabbed for the egg. He was going to be the first one to touch it. The Dragon Egg. His fingers brushed against the smooth surface then fell through to air. He stumbled and caught himself on the now empty quartz pedestal. 

“What the hell, Skeppy?” George protested. Then his eyes fell on the egg sitting on the grass not far from him. 

They’d both seen it. Skeppy caught his eyes. They held each other's gaze, silently urging the other to stay put. They both lunged for it. 

Skeppy collided with George practically landing on top of him but it was too late George's hand knocked into the egg and it disappeared.

Both of them scrambled to their feet looking for where it went. Skeppy found it over the hill but hesitated before reaching for it this time. 

“No you don’t” George cried coming up behind him. Skeppy jumped at the sound seconds before George tackled him directly into the egg and it was gone again. 

“Ow ow- hold on, get off,” Skeppy protested, pushing his palm against George’s face trying to shove George off himself, “This isn’t working. It’s being all teleporty and shit.”

George backed off, and huffed to himself, as he brushed himself off. 

“What are you two doing?” Scar said as he came over. “Oh look,” He stopped as he noticed the dragon egg at his feet. He placed down a piston next to it and a button and *boop* the egg was pushed right into his arms. He picked up the egg and looked back at the two who were still sitting on the ground, grass stains on their clothes and hair disheveled from their fight. “Looks like you two touched the egg. Don’t worry, I won’t tell Grian,” He said with a wink placing it back on the pedestal. 

Skeppy and George just stared at him. “Wait, how did you do that!” Skeppy shrieked pointing. 

Scar laughed, “The egg can be tricky, it doesn't like being touched but you can trick it into thinking it isn’t being held by using a piston. You can also break the block underneath it and catch it as it falls, just make sure to place a torch first... something about the heat is important.”  

“I’m holding it!” Skeppy announced scrambling to his feet and moving towards the egg. 

“Who says you get the egg, I saw it too,” George argued.

“We’ll I saw it first,” Skeppy retorted, sticking his tongue out, summoning his shovel from his inventory.

George scowled “You didn’t even know what it was till I told you.” He summoned his netherite axe from his inventory, the one XD had given him. 

“Well you didn’t even know that it teleported so-” Skeppy started digging down next to the pedestal.

“Woh woh woh, you both can hold it if you want,” Scar said trying to break up the tension “You can’t keep it though, it’s Grian’s,” He added.

Skeppy and George both turned and glared at him. There was a calculating pause then George’s posture changed, he seemed to relax. “Heh- sorry about that,” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “It’s just neither of us have ever seen a dragon egg, guess we got a bit carried away,” He shrugged. 

George wanted that Dragon egg more than anything. Skeppy probably did too. That was the rarest thing on the server and if someone could get it and bring it back to the Dream SMP then they would be the most powerful person on the server. But there were a lot of hermits. Way more than the two of them. It was probably best that they not make them mad. He could find a way to get the egg without them noticing another time. 

Skeppy looked surprised and a little too satisfied with himself as he continued to dig out under the pedestal. He placed the torch and mined away the pedestal catching the egg as it fell. It was surprisingly warm, he felt it vibrating with power as he held it against his chest, his arms wrapped around it, nestled in the folds of his bright blue hoodie. He grinned, he felt like a proud father, why did he feel like a proud father? He hadn’t even felt this way about Sapnap and he practically helped Bad raise him… multiple times.  

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself, it's not that great,” George scoffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Hey Scar, can you come over here real quick” X called as he and Grian walked back into Boatem town. 

“Yeah, be right over,” Scar called back before turning to Skeppy and George “Just make sure to put it back,” He said before running over to see what X and Grian needed. 

George glared at Skeppy over his glasses, he was still holding his ax. “You're putting it back ok,”

Skeppy turned his body to put himself between George and the egg. “And why should I?” He pouted. 

“Because,” George said calmly and quietly, so the others talking by Grian’s house couldn’t hear, “If you take it now they will know it was us and won’t let us leave.” George watched the gears turn in Skeppies head “So truce for now... we work together to steal the egg later,” 

Skeppy glanced off to the side as he thought about it. Finally he nodded “Alright, agreed,” His fingers were crossed. 

George grinned and pushed his glasses back into place “Great.” His fingers were crossed. 

Skeppy climbed out of the hole and George helped him put the dirt and pedestal back. Skeppy begrudgingly let George hold the egg before putting it back on the Pedestal.

Ok so maybe holding the egg was kind of cool George thought smiling softly before Skeppy made him put it back.

---  

“So what’s up?” Scar asked coming over to join X and Grian. Now that Scar looked at him, Grian wasn’t looking too great. His feathers and hair were rumpled more than usual and he was leaning on X’s arm. “You ok there?” 

“Yeah, Just got a concussion.” Grian shrugged. 

“He flew into a barrier while trying to get into the Dream SMP Server,” X explained.

“Oof,” Scar winced at the description.

“He should be fine after a month or so, he just needs to rest and not do anything too strenuous.” X continued, “Also it is probably a good idea not to let him sleep unsupervised for a couple of days.” 

“Got it,” Scar nodded “I’ll be sure to keep him in line,” 

“C'mon guys, you don’t trust me?” Grian teased.

“I wouldn’t trust you with a ten foot pole,” Scar laughed. 

“Fair,” Grian chuckled, “Well anyway, thanks for walking with me back here X” He said letting go of X’s arm.

“No problem, just take it easy, got it?” X reminded Grian.

“Don’t worry. Besides this means I’ll have plenty of time to help the new guys settle in.” Grian added as he noticed Skeppy and George standing looking at his Dragon egg. 

“Oh no you don’t. You are going inside and resting,” Scar said, taking Grian by the shoulders and guiding him into his house. 

“No, but- I, I’m fine really,” Grian protested

“No buts, You rest, I’ll take care of everything.” Scar insisted and Grian gave up, letting himself be led off to bed. 

[So I know I said I already had a bunch written in advance but when editing this part I realized I needed to add some interactions with Skeppy and George. I really like how this turned out but it is now longer than I originally planned so I am breaking it up into sub parts. The next segment will be out soon]

[yumehoxo]

⚠️WARNING⚠️ this content contains 18 actions (face fucking, strong language, mirror sex, degradation, suggestive themes)

Eren x female bodied! reader

~Pent up feelings~

Authors note:

This was a request from one of my followers so yeh 😩🤌. Anyways I just wanted to let you know y/n gives Eren full consent during this story just so no one gets confused. As I am part of it I hope none of you guys are part of the 97% and if you are, I’m so sorry I promise everything will be just fine, so from now own I’m just going to leave a note saying that y/n gives him full consent because I do not write anything that has to do with rape or sexual harassment (etc..)

————————————————

It was around 2:00am, to be specific it was 1:43am. Eren said he was going to go out with some friends to have a drink but you expected him to be home by now. It wasn’t like you guys were super close or anything, you just knew him long enough to be comfortable around him. You both were closefriends in 8th-11th grade but then fell apart after his mom passed away and he slowly broke ties with everyone. It was last year when you both came in contact again and agreed on the decision to share an apartment since the dorms were over-priced and small. But ever since you north moved in your feelings for him grew as time went by. You weren’t sure you could say the same went for him but there was a lot of flags indicating so.

Normally him not being home at this hour used to not bother you but lately you’ve taken his flirty personality to heart. The way he would purposely get up close and personal to you when he saw you struggling to reach something as helped you from behind, or the way his eyes would linger for too long on a certain body part or outfit you were wearing, but it wasn’t a one-sided thing that only he would do. The amount of times you caught yourself staring at the way his grey joggers sat dangerously low on his waist, just enough to see the waist band of his underwear drove you crazy. Not to mention how he was always shirtless, his physique was so beautifully structured, the way his happy trail wasn’t too much and would lead right to his angelically sculpted abs, how his tricep would flex as he did the simplest things, such as going to grab an object or simply open a door.

‘Ugh I need to stop thinking about him for onc-’ your precious thoughts were interrupted by hearing the apartment doors knob get twisted multiple times and then the slight noise of changing keys right after that. You decided to stay in bed since he knew how to get inside and you had no reason to talk to him. After a couple more minutes of Eren struggling with his keys he finally got it to open. You could hear him walk to the kitchen and put his keychain and bag down, trying his “best” to not make noise but miserably failing as his key slid of the counter and fell on the floor.

‘oh my god this child’ you said as you shook your head in disbelief of how clumsy he was, although he was basically a grown man at this point. You decided to let him be and pressed the space bar on your laptop so the rest of your show could continue playing. It was a show about oversized humans that ate normal ones, if you dared to say the main character looked alarmingly similar to Eren. After 20 minutes go by of your show you finished your last blunt and started getting drowsy. As you were about to fall asleep you were woken up to your bedroom door getting swung open, just to find eren standing there with his hair lazily tied back and wearing his famous grey sweatpants, nothing else.

“W-what could you possibly want??” You asked him, quite flustered since you were only in a see through tank top and shorts. Although Eren didn’t seem to mind because he wasn’t fazed at all.

“I can’t sleep.” He said as his body slightly swayed to the side, clearly indicating he was tipsy, on the verge of being drunk.

“And what am I supposed to do about that?” You said through gritted teeth as you covered yourself with the blanket.

“Awww come one don’t be so lame, I just wanted to stay with you” Eren said back in a whiny tone as he threw his head back.

“Stay with me? Since when have you ever wanted to do that?” You said back.

“Don’t act like you don’t want me to stay” Eren said while rolling his eyes and closing the door behind him.

“W-what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked back as your face grew a darker shade of red.

“It means...” Eren made his way over to you putting his thumb on your chin and pointer finger underneath and directed your head to you could look him straight in the eyes. Although it didn’t last long as he made his way to your ear.. “I know you want this as much as I do”. The slight wind from his whisper sent chills down your spine, you could of sworn that he must of been able to hear how hard your heart is pounding. You could smell the strong scent of alcohol from him but your mental state wasn’t any better then his, you were about to sleep off your high but there’s no way your going to sleep after this.

“I- I- I never said that!” You whispered-screamed back pushing him slightly away with your hands, only for him to grab you by your hands and pull you out of bed. He was much stronger then you so you couldn’t do anything about it at this point. You were faced in front of your mirror next to your bed. He held onto one of your hands as the other was placed on your waist, his head slightly resting on your shoulder, as he look at you through the mirror.

“You didn’t have to say it. You didn’t think I wouldn’t notice the way you looked at me?” Eren whispered in your ear as his eyebrow rose up slightly.

“Eren your drunk, you don’t even know what your saying” you said back your voice shaky from all the nerves exploding in your body.

“I may be just a little bit, but it doesn’t seem like your any better then me” he responded back. He slowly pressed his lips onto your neck and looking beck up for your approval. You just as slowly nodded your head trying to keep your cool but your heart was going 100 miles per hour. His hand made its way underneath your shirt, his hands ran up and down the sides of your figure, as he peppered kisses on your neck all the way up to your ear. He made his way up to your breasts, gently pinching at your nipple, causing you to moan out loud. He pressed his body up against yours and you could feel his erection pressing against your ass. He turned your head to the side and immediately put his mouth giants yours, tongues sliding over each others in sync. His cold hands running up and down your body made you shiver, but you were addicted to how his calloused hands felt against your body, how he towered over you, how he made you obey him with little to no effort. You ran your hand down his body and started slowly palming at his erection earning you a moan into your heated kiss. Slowly you pulled away from the kiss and got onto your knees, he got the idea and started taking off his pants. You took off your shirt and shorts so you were just in your panties at this point. You could feel his eyes lingering on your bare chest making you blush a dark shade of red. You didn’t even bother to make eye contact with him, you know you would just be teased about it. You looked at the sight in front of you, you could see his imprint though his boxers, you could feel your heat dripping at just the sight. You pulled at the waistband of his boxers of his boxers freeing his cock. You spit on his tip and started slowly running up and down, earning you a low moan from him. You put your lips on his tip, your tongue slowly circling around his tip just to tease him.

“Shit, y/n please don’t tease me like that” Eren whined, his eyes tightly shut. You didn’t say anything back but instead took as much of his length as you can in his mouth making you gag. You were going at a slow pace, causing Eren to take a fistful of your h/c hair a guided your head up and down, his speed slowly increasing until all you could do was keep your mouth open, drool and pre-cum leaking down your face. His moans were loud and raspy and he muttered your name and curses shortly after. He sped up slightly and you could hear his moans getting louder as he got closer, and then finally he released into the back of your throat. You swallowed and winced at the taste.

“I-I’m so sorry, I got carried away I didn’t mean-” you cut his apology off.

“It’s fine” you said back looking up and smiling at him.

“Let me make it up to you” Eren apologetically smiled. He picked you up throwing you over his shoulder and gently laid your back on your bed. He peppered kisses on your neck all the way down your breasts, taking one in his mouth and massaging the other with his hand. You tried to suppress your moans by covering your mouth but he immediately took you hand and removed it away from your mouth.

“It’s just the two of us, you don’t need to be quiet.” Eren smirked as he looked up from your chest. You slowly nodded as he left kisses all the way down your stomach reaching just above your cunt. He spreader your legs just a little more and started leaving kisses on the inside of your thighs. You could of sworn this was just payback from earlier as you started to get impatient your heat dripping even more as his hot breathe hit your clit only for him to go back to kissing around your heat. Your softly whined as he continued to take his time. Eren too, the hint and started slowly licking up and down your slit. You didn’t even bother to try and be quiet as he started to suck harshly, his tongue circling around your clit. He caught you by surprise as he put his digits in you going one at a time. He picked up his pace as his two digits pumped in and out of you. You arched your back and pushed his head closer to your cunt, slowly grinding against him asking for more.

“Someone impatient, aren’t they?” Eren asked with a smug smirk on his face. You whined at the loss of contact...

“N-not like your any better” you shot back. You could see his face turn slightly red. His fingers started pumping in and out of you faster and he harshly ran his tongue over your cunt. You legs started shaking violently as your moans grew louder and louder and your back arched. It didn’t take you long until your released he tried to cool down your orgasm and he slowly rubbed at his clit. As you finally caught your breath he went up to kiss you, you could taste your bitter sweet fluids on his lips. He pulled away, a string of saliva connecting your mouths together..

“Get on your knees” Eren demanded with a stern but lustful look on his face. You simply obeyed get on you knees hands arms slightly hanging off of the bed. You could see your self in the mirror next to your bed as Eren positioned himself at you entrance. You gripped the sheets tightly as he slowly pushed in, he stopped halfway through so you could adjust to his size.

“Are you okay?” He asked you with a completely different demeanor then the the one he had before. He sounded more caring as he wanted to make sure you felt no discomfort.

“Mhmm” you said back as you bit onto your lip. He slowly pushed his full length into you, you bit down on your lip even harder, you could of sworn you were bleeding by now.

“Shit y/n y-your so tight” Eren whined. All you could do was moan back as no words formed on your mouth. You looked up into the the mirror and you could see your back arched and your chest was flat against the bed, Erens hair was more messed up then before as his man bam was so close to falling out. He started picking up the pace, he didn’t even notice there was a mirror infront of you guys until he looked up. He couldn’t see your face since you had to facing to the side nit daring to look at yourself in the mirror. He caught onto you little scheme and grabbed some of you hair and pulled at it so your head could be looking straight into the mirror.

“Why don’t you look at yourself while you take my cock you little slut?” Eren said looking straight into your eyes. You clenched around his com at his words causing him to let out a moan. You codling even respond to him as his pace picked up.

“You like that? You like being a called a slut?” Eren said as he slapped the side of your ass.

“E-Eren” you moaned out, your voice raspy and frail. You could feel the knot building up in your stomach as his started hitting it in just the right spot. Stars started dancing around in your vision as you got closer to your high, you and Erens moans started becoming more high pitched in frequent. You couldn’t take it any more as you released on his cock, it took him a few strokes until he pulled out and came onto your back. You slumped down after he pulled out trying your best to catch your breath again, your legs were still shaking as you heard Eren catching his breath as well. He grabbed the towel on the side of your bed and wiped your back clean. He put on his boxers and handed you your panties. You were too tired to even put them on, you went under the sheets and rested your head on Erens chest. You head slowly rose up and down as he breathed.

“Eren?”

“Yes y/n?” He responded back.

“I love you” you said back. He picked his head up form his pillow making your move your head away from his chest. He took the side of your face into his hand and gave you a kiss on your lips, you could feel the tenderness in the kiss.

“I love you too y/n” he said back.

[rosiehunterwolf]

let me down gently

Prompts: Anger and Fight

Word Count: 6,465

Characters: Lloyd and Kai

Timeline: During episodes 96 (Into the Breach) and 97 (The Fall)

Trigger Warnings: Strained Parental Relationships, Suffocation, Major Character Death (kind of, u all know Cole didn't really die in this episode)

Summary: The thing about spending nearly every waking moment of the last several years of your life with a group of friends is that you really get to know them, inside and out, so much so that sometimes you know what they’re thinking before they do.

And, sometimes that means it’s easy to overlook what they’re actually trying to say.

(wooo! got my first bingo! what happens now lol)

Read on FFN.net

Read on Ao3

Tumblr work under the cut

The thing about spending nearly every waking moment of the last several years of your life with a group of friends is that you really get to know them, inside and out, so much so that sometimes you know what they’re thinking before they do.

Kai had learned that it was all about being observant. The littlest things could hint him off at what was going on in their minds.

For example, whenever Nya was frustrated with a piece of machinery she was repairing, Kai could tell by the sound of her hammer against the metal. It was more of a dull, clunking sound than the lighter, ringing tone that could usually be heard. Or when Zane was faced with a problem that he was struggling to solve, he would always walk with a slightly stiffer posture. How Jay’s leg would bounce slightly when he was impatient, or how Cole bit his lip when he was focused.

And now, as the ninja stood around Garmadon on the deck of the Bounty, Kai could tell from the look in Lloyd’s bright green eyes that his youngest brother was planning something- something that Kai wasn’t going to like.

“I’m done with your foolishness,” Garmadon growled at the ninja. “You do not have a choice. I will say it once more- I am the only one who can enter the Oni Cloud. Give me a weapon, and let me go, or the Darkness will consume us all.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Lloyd snapped back. “You’re not going anywhere- not without me.”

Kai balked at him. What?!

Lloyd began to walk up to Garmadon, until he was glaring him right in the face. “I’m your son, remember. I’m Oni, too.”

No. The blood was roaring in Kai’s ears, now. Lloyd had come up with plenty of dumb, impulsive plans in his life, but this was on another level entirely. If Lloyd thought Kai was letting him go into the Darkness alone with Garmadon, he was sorely mistaken.

“You are part Oni.” The man reached out, shoving Lloyd, and the green ninja stumbled backwards. Nya quickly caught him by the arm, steadying him, and the others lunged towards Garmadon. Kai barely managed to stop himself from punching the man in the face, dropping into a defensive stance instead when Lloyd pulled away from Nya, evidently unharmed.

“That means you might survive,” Garmadon told Lloyd, ignoring the others glaring at him.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out.”

Oh, you’ll find out all right, Kai fumed as he glared at the green ninja. You’ll find out that this is not happening, as soon as I knock some sense into you.

---

“Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon, have you lost your tiny mind?” Kai grabbed Lloyd’s arm, yanking him into an empty room below deck on the Bounty.

Lloyd stared at him. “Did you just call my mind tiny?”

“Yes, I did, and you deserve it, because you’re being the absolute worst idiot I have seen right now. And I’m friends with Jay, so that’s saying something.”

“Excuse me for trying to help,” Lloyd spat back. “I didn’t see anyone else coming up with a plan.”

“So the only thing you could come up with was chucking your own life into danger? Typical Lloyd move.”

His friend's eyes widened. “You’re one to talk! Do you really need me to go over every risky decision you’ve made? We’ll be here all day!”

“Half of those ‘risky decisions’ have just been trying to get you out of situations that your risky decisions got you into!”

Lloyd’s eyes darkened, and he turned away, beginning to rummage through the cabinets for a suitable weapon. “No one asked you to do that.”

Kai couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He marched forward, put a hand on Lloyd’s shoulder, and forced him around. “You expected me to just leave you. To die?”

“No!” The green ninja answered hastily, although he wouldn’t meet Kai’s eyes. “… I just could’ve taken care of it myself, that’s all.”

Kai snorted. “Right.”

Lloyd shoved his hand away. “I’m serious! I’m not a kid anymore, I don’t need you babysitting me.”

Kai felt like his heart had been impaled as he watched Lloyd turn away from him, back towards the shelves. He felt stinging in his eyes, and quickly pushed the hurt down, letting it give way to anger instead. How dare Lloyd speak to him that way. Kai had spent years caring for him, looking out for him. He had been the one to save him from the Fire Temple, from Morro, had been the one to carry him to Mystaké’s shop when he had foolishly run off to fight Garmadon alone and nearly died-

Sure, Kai had… he had failed him, sometimes. He knew he wasn’t always good enough to protect him, as hard as he tried. But in his defence, Lloyd wasn’t exactly making it easy for him! It was almost as if the boy wanted to die! He was getting an odd sense of déjà vu, and he didn’t like it one bit.

“Have you forgotten what happened the last time you left us to fight the villain by yourself? I’m still having nightmares about that night, Lloyd! You nearly died.”

“That was different.”

“Different how?”

“I know what I’m doing,” he insisted. “And I won’t be alone. My dad will be with me.”

Kai’s eyes narrowed. “Oh great, now I’m so reassured.”

Lloyd shot him a look so venomous that Kai nearly faltered. What was that about?

“Look, Lloyd, I’m just trying to watch out for you! Can’t you see that the Cloud is dangerous? Cole was only in it for a second, and we nearly lost him. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Lloyd sighed. “I know. But someone’s gotta do it, and my father said that my Oni blood will protect me.”

“He also said your human blood would make you weaker. He never guaranteed you would survive, and, frankly, even if he did, I wouldn’t trust him.”

Lloyd’s gaze went hard again. “Of course you wouldn’t. You’ve never trusted him. For as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had a vendetta against him, and that’s no different now.”

“Lloyd, don’t be ridiculous, you know that’s not true. He was our sensei at one point, remember? I accepted him then! It’s only the Devourer venom I don’t trust. He said it himself- he couldn’t be trusted with the venom flowing through his veins.”

“Yeah, well the venom’s gone now, isn’t it? And I don’t see you acting any different than those first days.”

“Lloyd, he’s different now, and you know it. He’s not Sensei Garmadon anymore.”

“So that automatically means we can’t trust him?”

“No! But I can list a hundred other reasons why we can’t!” Kai began counting off on his fingers, “He tried to kill you, he tried to kill us, he tried to kill Wu, he destroyed the Bounty, he destroyed the city, he imprisoned our friends, he created a giant stone Colossus to try and destroy us, he’s Oni-”

“I’m Oni, too,” Lloyd snapped. “Does that mean you don’t trust me?”

“Lloyd, stop being stupid-”

“Oh, so now I’m stupid!”

“I didn’t mean that.”

“So what did you mean?”

Kai sighed, rubbing his temples. “You’re only part Oni. Things are different.”

“But what if I wasn’t? What if I was full Oni? You wouldn’t trust me then?”

“I never said that.” “You literally just did.”

Kai glowered at him. “Look, it doesn’t matter- Lloyd, you’re my friend. I’ve known you for years, I know you’re trustworthy because you’ve never done anything to prove me otherwise.”

“If you trust me so much, then why aren’t you acting like it now?”

“I do trust you! I still do, and I always will. But I also know your judgement tends to get clouded when it comes to people you care about. And, I’m sorry Lloyd, but your father does not deserve to be on that list. Not anymore. Ever since he’s come back, he’s done nothing but prove to me that he doesn’t care about you. At all.”

Lloyd froze, a shadow falling over his face. Kai reached for his hand, but he jerked back, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, come on, Lloyd, I know you’re trusting, but this is ridiculous! Have you forgotten what he’s done to you?”

“You don’t get to talk,” Lloyd choked, his voice suddenly sounding wet. “You don’t know what it’s like. What I’ve been through.”

Kai stopped, blinking at him. “What?”

“You don’t know! You never had to watch your dad be an evil warlord for your whole life, never had people telling you that your entire destiny was to defeat him!”

Kai felt his anger dissipate. “Lloyd-”

But the green ninja wasn’t done. “You never had to fight the one person who came back for you when everyone else turned their backs on you, only to get him back as someone completely different than the person you remembered! You never had to suffer through those long weeks, those long months, struggling to reconnect with him after the rift that had been torn between the two of you. You never had to deal with only having your father back for a couple years before losing him again, just when you had finally been getting to know him again! You never had to suffer through that loss, thinking about him every day for the next few years, just starting to get over him when suddenly you found out he was coming back again! You never had to fight so hard to keep him from coming back, even though a small part of you really wanted to see him again. You don’t know what it was like to get a chance to reunite with him, only to have him nearly kill you, and then be forced to recruit him to help you. You don’t know what it’s like to have half of your brain remembering him as this horrible, sadistic monster that absolutely cannot be trusted, but the other half remembering him as a good man, as your true father, and feeling like there’s still some of that in there, and maybe you can have that back!”

By this point, Lloyd was crying, hard, and Kai felt like his heart was going to shatter. “Lloyd. I’m sorry bud. I’m so sorry. But you’re going to have to trust us. Your team. We’ve always been here for you, even when your dad wasn’t.”

“You still don’t get it!” Lloyd was borderline yelling by this point. “I can’t! I can’t forget everything he’s done- both the good and the bad! You can’t possibly understand how angry I am at him but how much I love him! He left me! He hurt me! But he is the only person who loved me from the very beginning- even you thought I was some washed-up street rat when we first met!”

The pressure building in Kai’s chest suddenly snapped, and he found himself yelling right back at Lloyd. “I don’t know what it’s like? Have you forgotten what my father did? I lived the majority of my life thinking that he had abandoned me! For a five-year-old kid, that was the scariest thing of my life- I didn’t know what to do, and everything was resting on me. It took me years to get over that, to get over them and to move on, and then- then I figured out they were alive and now everyone was saying that they were good and that this wasn’t their fault- that everything was okay now. But it wasn’t okay- they had left me, burdened me, and as much as I knew they hadn’t done it on purpose, I couldn’t forget all those years of pain. Even Nya thought I was being crazy, tried to stop me from lashing out at them. She didn’t understand. She was the younger sibling, she wasn’t burdened with my responsibility. If anyone could understand me, I would’ve thought it would be you.”

“It’s not the same!” Lloyd’s voice was shrill. “You still have years ahead of you- years to talk and reconnect. You think I didn’t go through the same thing with my father after he was cleansed from the venom? I thought we would have all the time in the world! But now we’re back at square one again, but worse- square zero- and this time he won’t even listen to me! He doesn’t remember me, he doesn’t remember himself, he doesn’t remember anything except hatred.”

“Then why are you so eager to listen to him again?”

“I can’t let him go again! Not like last time!”

“This isn’t like last time, Lloyd! Why won’t you listen to us? Since when did you start trusting Garmadon’s judgement over mine?” “The moment you stopped listening to me and tried to make everything about yourself!”

Kai stared at him in disbelief. Lloyd was seriously calling him selfish right now? He had just poured out all his insecurities about his parents, ones that he didn’t want to share but did anyway to try to help Lloyd see he wasn’t alone- and the brat had the nerve to call him selfish?

“I can’t believe you! I’ve done nothing- nothing- but try to help you and care for you since you joined our team. And you have the audacity to pin this on me. You know what? Go! Go with your father into that dumb Cloud! Since you obviously care about him so much more than you do me!”

“I will,” Lloyd shot back, already storming out of the room.

“Don’t come crying to me when you suffocate in there! At least you’ll be with your dear old pops!”

Lloyd turned around when he reached the doorway, their shouting match quieting as he responded in a low voice.

“Trust me, I’m not going to be crying to anyone.”

There was a loud bang as Lloyd slammed the door shut, and Kai was alone.

---

Zane walked quietly down the hallway of the ship, stopping in front of Nya as she slowly backed out of a room, pulling the door shut softly behind her.

“Any luck?”

She shook her head. “He won’t even talk to me, not to mention tell me what happened.”

“Kai isn’t budging either. He asked me how close we were to the city, and what Garmadon was up to, but refused to even mention Lloyd.”

“I’ve never seen Lloyd like this, Zane, he was… he was upset. Angry. I think they fell out, but… I don’t know why, or how…”

“It has to be about the Cloud. Kai was pretty upset when Lloyd announced his plan.”

“I’m upset too!” she snapped. “It’s a horrible plan! He’s going to get himself killed! But you know how Lloyd gets when he sets his mind on something. And Kai can get… snappy when he’s worried about someone important to him. I’m worried things have been taken too far this time, though.”

Nya buried her face in her hands, and Zane put a hand on her shoulder. “Nya, it’s going to be alright. It’s not like they haven’t fought before. They’ll make up quickly, like they always do.”

“Yeah, but it’s never been this bad before! Lloyd was really upset, Zane! He always talks to me, comes to me, when he’s having a hard time, especially if it’s with Kai, but…” her voice dropped to a whisper. “This time is different.”

“Have you forgotten everything they’ve been through?” Zane reminded her. “Their friendship has survived the green ninja prophecy, Chen’s staff, a possession, many near-death experiences, and realm-hopping. I think they can handle one argument.”

Nya didn’t look so reassured, so Zane looped his arm around her. “They’re going to be fine. They always are.”

Nya wiped a sleeve across her eyes, sniffing. “I know. I just worry about them.”

“It’s great, how much you look out for them, but there are some things that Kai and Lloyd must resolve on their own.”

Nya nodded, slowly stepping back from the door of the room where Lloyd was.

A faint beeping sounded from above them, and Zane quickly checked his internal GPS. “Now, we should head back above deck. It won’t be long before we reach Ninjago City, and the outskirts of the Oni Cloud.”

“The time is nearly upon us,” Nya whispered. “Soon, the fate of Ninjago will rest in our hands.” Her nose wrinkled. “Again.”

---

Kai stared over the deck of the Bounty, his jaw slack as he surveyed the landscape below. The entirety of Ninjago City was covered in a thick, black smog, only the tips of some of the taller skyscrapers emerging from it.

A sickly black tentacle reached up below them, curling up towards the fins on the rear of the Bounty, lapping gently against the wood. Nya put on a burst of speed, and the Bounty pulled from its grasp, leaving the tentacle to lurk hungrily, before it slowly receded back down into the Cloud.

A shiver slipped down his spine, and he gritted his teeth. He couldn’t believe the others had agreed to send Lloyd down there.

“This will allow us to see what’s happening inside the Cloud.”

Kai turned to see Zane slipping what looked to be a GoPro over Lloyd’s head. “We can watch the camera feed from the monitor screens of the Bounty.”

Lloyd was shifting from foot to foot, looking nervous. As he should be. How long will it take for him to finally realize how dangerous this is?

Lloyd wasn’t the only one looking frightened. From where she stood up by the steering wheel, Nya was watching Lloyd apprehensively, nibbling on her lip. Jay stood at Lloyd’s side, double and triple checking to make sure the armor pieces fastened to his gi were strong and secured. Cole was leaning back against the mast, arms crossed over his chest as he surveyed them all with dark eyes.

“What’s our plan for extraction?” Cole asked gruffly. “If we’re doing this, we need a clear plan before you leave. There’ll be no room for mistakes down there.”

“We’ll wait here with the Bounty while he’s down there,” Zane explained. “When he’s made it back, we’ll drop the anchor so he can climb the chain.”

“I installed a tracking device in the camera,” Nya added, “so if something goes wrong, we can come pick you up elsewhere.”

“Hopefully nothing will go wrong,” Lloyd muttered.

Nya shook her head. “I’ll say.”

“Did you guys check the parachute? Does it feel alright, do you want me to-”

“Jay.” Lloyd said firmly. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

Jay sighed, running a hand through his curly locks. “I’m just not sure about this, Lloyd.”

“Guys. I have to do this. I’m gonna get in, grab the Realm Crystal, get out. No problem.”

“No problem?” Kai growled. “Yeah, except for the freezing black tentacles, deathly fog, and swarms of Oni you’re forgetting about. Oh, and wait, your father.”

“Kai, can we not get into this now,” Lloyd grimaced.

“If we don’t get into it now, when will we get into it?” Kai pulled back from the railing, walking over to him. “Once you go, there’s no turning back.”

His eyes flashed. “I’m aware of the consequences. I’m doing it.”

Kai groaned. “You’re not even listening to me!”

“And you’re not listening to me. Do you have another plan?”

“I’m sure we could come up with something better than this.”

“Yeah? Well, you haven’t!” he snapped, loudly.

Kai said nothing, glaring at him.

“The people of Ninjago City are in danger. Many of them are already lost, and I only hope that we can save them. Someone has to help, sooner rather than later. And right now, me and my father are the only ones who can.”

“Well, maybe not you,” Jay squeaked, looking nervous to impede on their argument.

“Jay’s right, you’re taking a huge risk.”

“I’m a ninja!” Lloyd threw up his arms. “Risk is part of the job description.”

There was silence at that.

Really, what could they say? To deny it would be to put down every risk they had ever taken, every consequence they had ever faced.

But so many of them had ended in disaster- Zane’s death, Chen’s staff, Morro’s possession, Wu getting lost in time, and of course, Lloyd’s initial face-off with his resurrected father- and Kai was wondering when they would finally draw the line.

Sooner or later, their luck was going to run out. Sooner or later, they would get themselves into a mess they couldn’t get out of.

---

The ship slowed to a halt in front of Borg Tower. The tallest building in the city, it stretched far above the Cloud, but as Lloyd peered down, he saw that the bottom of it just seemed to disappear, getting swallowed by the blackness.

“This is the closest I can get,” Nya announced, descending the ladder as she hopped down to the deck with them. “You’re going to have to take it from here.”

Garmadon said nothing, stepping up to the edge of the rail to peer over the edge.

Pixal beckoned to him, and Lloyd walked over, standing patiently as she fiddled with his GoPro.

“Zane?” she called back to the nindroid, to where he had climbed back up towards the monitor. She waved at Lloyd’s camera, and Zane gave her a thumbs up.

“It’s working. For now. The reception might break up a little when he actually goes into the Darkness, but hopefully it will last us a while, at least.”

“And the GPS?”

“Signal is on point.”

“Voice feed? Can you hear me through the comms?”

“Loud and clear.”

“Good.” Pixal stepped back from him, nodding. She hesitated for a moment, her green eyes flashing. “Lloyd… just be careful, okay? Your life isn’t worth the Realm Crystal. We can always come up with another plan.”

Lloyd swallowed. Suddenly, this whole thing was beginning to feel a lot more real.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one thinking this, because Kai walked over to him. Lloyd flinched, expecting him to yell again, but his voice was soft.

“Lloyd. If you… if you really trust your dad so much, you should let him go. Alone.”

Lloyd bit back a sigh. “I don’t trust him.”

Kai blinked. “You literally just told me earlier that you-”

“No, I said it was complicated.” Lloyd breathed out slowly, running his fingers through his hair before his voice came out too sharp. “I trust him enough to not get me killed, but not enough to bring the Realm Crystal back on his own.”

“Look, Lloyd, you don’t have to do this.”

Lloyd glared at him. “Yeah, I do. I’m going, end of discussion.”

“Please don’t go. Look, I’m sorry about what I said earlier, okay? I’ll make it up to you. Please don’t base this decision off of that.”

Kai’s eyes were looking suspiciously shiny now, and Lloyd bit his lip. He was still mad at Kai, but Lloyd hated fighting with him. Maybe he should-

No. Lloyd shut down that train of thought fiercely. He couldn’t do this again. He couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him.

Sure, this was Kai he was talking about- not Harumi, or his father. He knew Kai would never try to take advantage of him, but- he was also biased. Lloyd wanted to listen to his own judgement, for once. The best decisions were always made with a clear head, anyways.

He forced his voice to be hard as he spoke. “I made this decision plenty of time before that conversation.”

Ignoring the look on Kai’s face, he turned and walked towards the edge of the deck, pulling his sword out of the rack. It was about time he finished this.

---

Kai hurried over to her looking half in tears.

“So I’m guessing that’s a ‘no’ on talking him out of it?”

Kai gripped her shoulders, tight. “He won’t listen to me Nya, I think he’s still angry with me. I can’t change his mind. Nothing I say will change his mind. You need to talk to him, please. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” “I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Kai. He may not be upset with me, but you know how stubborn he gets when he sets his mind on something.”

“Can you at least try?”

Nya looked at him, and after a moment, let out a sigh. “Fine.”

Her footsteps were quiet as she walked over to the green ninja, who was sheathing his sword. He didn’t look at her, but he knew she was there, that Nya was certain of.

“I have no idea what he said to you, earlier… but he’s just worried about you, y’know.”

Lloyd snorted. “Sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“I’m serious, Lloyd. This is dangerous. Perhaps one of the biggest risks we’ve taken yet. What you said earlier was true- taking risks is part of the job- but that doesn’t mean we can’t be careful. Can’t worry.”

Lloyd sighed. “I know- and I’m not expecting you not to. But sometimes, certain things have to be done, and… you just have to endure the worry for the sake of others.” He eyed her. “Kind of like you’re doing now.”

Nya side-eyed him, and he smiled slightly. “I can tell. You’ve been pacing.”

She breathed out slowly. “You’re right. But that’s not an easy thing to do. Especially for those who love you and care about you very much.”

Lloyd looked down. “Just get it over with.”

“What?”

“He sent you over here to talk me out of it, didn’t he?”

“Technically, yes… but he’s not my team leader. I don’t have to listen to anything he says.”

Lloyd looked up, his brilliant green eyes meeting her much tamer, softer brown ones.

“Why aren’t you going to try to change my mind?”

“Because I know what a stubborn brat you are,” she teased, cuffing him over the head. He shook her off, scowling as he straightened his hair.

“Seriously, though. I wouldn’t be sending you in if I wasn’t certain you were strong enough to handle yourself.”

Relief flooded his expression. “So you get it! Why doesn’t Kai? Why doesn’t he just trust me?”

“He trusts you,” she said firmly, and Lloyd blinked at her, surprised. “He trusts you more than you will ever know.”

“Then why is he so upset about me doing this?”

“Just because you know someone is capable doesn’t mean that you’re not going to worry or fear the worst when they have to do something dangerous. Kai’s a big brother. It’s his job to be overprotective! He’s just trying to look out for you.”

“I’m not a kid anymore. Sometimes I need to look after myself.”

“Kai’s afraid of losing you, Lloyd. He knows you’re strong. He knows you’re capable. He trusts you completely. But bad things can happen to even the best people. He doesn’t want a world without you in it. None of us do.”

Lloyd was silent at that, toeing at the ground with his foot. “I’ll be careful,” he said after a long while.

“You better be.” She reached forward, squeezing his hand. “Just know that he comes from a place of love, okay?”

“Are we going to just stand here all day?” Garmadon snapped, stalking over to him. “Or should I just go without you?”

“No,” Lloyd insisted, wiping at his face with his sleeve. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

Garmadon shot a pointed glance at his sword. Lloyd sighed.

“Cole, give him a sword.”

The black ninja grabbed a katana, eyeing the Dark Lord with thinly veiled suspicion. “Are you sure about that?”

Lloyd nodded.

Cole tossed the sword at Garmadon’s feet, and he picked it up, surveying it slowly. The ninja and Pixal watched him apprehensively.

Suddenly, Garmadon was lunging at Cole, and before Nya could react, Kai was screaming at him to look out as he charged Garmadon, the sharp screech of metal sounding as his sword clashed with Garmadon’s. The man pushed past them, running towards Lloyd and Nya, and Lloyd quickly charged up his powers, hands glowing as he held up his fists protectively.

Garmadon darted to the side, wisely avoiding his son’s powers, and Nya blocked him with her spear, pinning him down as she caught him off guard.

Zane’s arrow flew past, and Garmadon rolled out of the way, causing her to lose her grip on him as he shot to his feet again, sending her flying with a sharply delivered kick to the gut.

Nya staggered to her feet, panting, just as Pixal was flung past her. Hurrying over, she helped her friend to her feet, and the two fell into battle stances behind the rest of the crew, who were now watching Garmadon through slitted eyes.

“Try that again!” Cole dared. “Now that I’m ready!”

Garmadon glared at them, raising a fist. Suddenly, it burst into purple flames, and the ninja recoiled, gasping.

His powers are back? How? “That’s better,” Garmadon rasped, grinning. Then, with a running leap, he launched himself off the side of the ship.

There was silence for a moment, before Cole burst out, “Okay, what the heck was that?”

“Conflict fuels him!” Lloyd said, walking forward.

“He was powering up!” Zane agreed.

“He did that just to get his powers back?” Jay cried.

Cole grimaced, marching up to Lloyd. “I. Do. Not. Trust. Him!”

Nya felt her stomach flip. She was starting to regret giving Lloyd that pep talk, now. Sure, she believed in his ability to take care of himself, but… Garmadon had his powers back, now? Lloyd’s powers were nothing to be scoffed at, but… they paled in comparison to Garmadon's. Those powers were what had nearly gotten him killed the last time. What would happen if Garmadon needed to “power up” again? Would he turn on Lloyd? And this time, he wouldn’t have his team to help him.

Seeing the look in her youngest brother’s eyes, Nya suddenly felt the urge to hold him back, and she grabbed his shoulder tightly. “Lloyd. Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

Lloyd hesitated, gazing at his teammates, who looked back at him with fearful gazes. He bit his lip.

Please say no, please say no, please say-

“No.”

Nya blinked. Well, that was easier than expected-

“But I don’t really have a choice,” he added, and before Nya could react, he was ripping away from her, running across the deck of the Bounty-

And jumping off the side of the ship.

---

“Lloyd!” Nya screamed, and Kai was suddenly pushing his way past her, running to the edge of the ship to peer over the side.

Lloyd was plummeting, down, down, down, until the green of his gi vanished and the Darkness swallowed him up. Kai swore, curling his fingers into the handrail.

The others had joined him, Nya leaning over so desperately that Cole had to pull her back. Unease crackled in the air as they blinked at each other.

“The camera feed!” Zane cried suddenly. “Come on!”

The nindroid hurried towards the monitors, the rest of them not far behind. Kai held his breath as Zane’s fingers flew across the keyboard, until a hazy purple image appeared. Dark, lurking outlines blurred past, as if in motion, until they suddenly slowed, Lloyd’s feet swinging into view.

“He opened his parachute,” Zane breathed.

Jay squinted at the screen, leaning forward. “I can’t see anything… except for that weird, purplish smoke.”

“Wait,” Cole pointed at the shadows, which came into better view as the fog began to thin slightly. “There’s some sort of building there.” He recoiled as something dark slithered across it. “What is that?”

“They look like…” Nya narrowed her eyes. “Tentacles, or something.”

“Eugh! Those are the things that tried to grab me, earlier!” Cole cried.

Kai bit down on his lip, only just stopping himself before he could draw blood. “Be careful, Lloyd.”

After a moment, the ground drifted into view, and Lloyd stumbled to a halt as his feet reached it, releasing his parachute.

As he looked around, the camera turned with his head, and Kai felt himself shudder at the creepy, desolate landscape that had once been their city. It was cruel, how much something could change in only a day.

Lloyd coughed, clearing his throat, and Kai’s attention was drawn back to him, frowning.

“Lloyd? Are you okay?”

There was no response, except for another, heaving cough, and Kai felt his heart drop, turning to Zane. “Can’t he hear us?”

Zane’s eyes flashed, hitting a few things on the control panel. “He should be able to, unless the reception has been blocked already, which frankly, I doubt-”

Lloyd’s hands flew to his mouth as he wheezed, a horrible, strangled sound. He gasped for air, and suddenly he was falling to his knees, the camera flickering.

Kai felt like he was having a heart attack.

“He’s suffocating!” he cried, reaching out and grabbing Nya’s arm, shaking her. “He can’t breathe, I told you this was a horrible idea, we have to get him out of there!”

Nya’s voice trembled. “Hurry, drop the anchor, he needs to get out now!”

“He can’t even stand, how is he going to climb the chain?”

“If he can't, I'll go down and get him.”

“You can’t do that, Kai, you’ll be dead within seconds!”

“What other choice do we-”

“Guys!” Zane cried, breaking over the clamor. “He’s okay now. His breathing has stabilized.”

Kai turned to the screen, seeing that Lloyd had pushed himself to his feet and was walking over to Garmadon. His breathing had stopped the horrible rasping, but it was still too heavy.

Nya slumped against him, rubbing her hands over her face. “This kid’s going to be the end of me.”

“Why is he going away from us?” Kai snapped. “Tell him to get back on the ship!”

Zane blinked at him. “The whole point of the mission is to get the Realm Crystal, is it not?”

“Not at the cost of his life!” “Of course not.” Zane reached forward, squeezing his arm gently. “But he is fine now. Trust me, I will be the first to inform you if his breathing becomes irregular again.”

Kai pulled his hands over his face, screaming into them. “Wake me up when this horrible nightmare is over!”

---

“There’s more to life than surviving!”

Lloyd’s scream made even Garmadon flinch back as the green ninja raced off, vanishing below deck. Kai watched him anxiously, and he felt Nya slip her arm out of his grasp.

“I’m okay, Kai. Go.”

Giving her hand one last squeeze, he ran after Lloyd, shooting Garmadon a fierce glare as he passed.

When he finally found Lloyd, he was in their bedroom, curled up on his bed, crying softly.

Kai sat down next to him, the mattress sagging slightly lower beneath his weight. After a moment of silence, he reached out a hand and began to rub Lloyd’s back gently.

“You were right,” he gasped suddenly. “I should never have left. The plan didn’t even work. It’s my fault, I should’ve been there, I could’ve- I could’ve-”

“Lloyd, you couldn’t have done anything,” Kai insisted, giving up with subtlety and pulling Lloyd against his side. “No one could’ve.”

Lloyd didn’t seem to hear him. “Why did I trust my father, you were right, I never should’ve done that, I was being stupid as always, I thought we could- I thought maybe things would go back, but- no, you tried to warn me, and I was horrible to you-”

“Lloyd, Lloyd stop, breathe,” Kai begged, grabbing his hands and desperately trying to pull them off of his head, where he was digging in his nails. “Stop, please, I don’t care about any of that, I forgave you ages ago.”

Lloyd took a shuddery breath, loosening his hands enough for Kai to move them, and letting his head rest in Kai’s lap. “Ages ago? We just had the argument earlier today.”

“Yeah, well, I’m quick at forgiving.”

Lloyd huffed softly. “No, you’re not.”

“For you I am. That’s what family’s for, right?”

Kai immediately regretted his choice of words as Lloyd flinched. “I mean, true family. The one you chose, not the one you’re related to by blood.”

“Yeah. I guess so.”

Kai let his breath out slowly, leaning back on the hand that wasn’t wrapped around Lloyd, and paused as it hit against something hard.

Looking back, he saw it was a photo frame. Sucking in his breath, he picked it up.

The glass was cracked, but the picture behind it was perfectly clear. In it, Sensei Garmadon was standing in front of the Monastery, an arm slung around Lloyd. Although their former sensei was standing stiff, as usual, a rare smile was playing on his lips. And Lloyd- Lloyd’s grin was all teeth, his eyes practically sparkling as he gazed at his father. He looked so happy it made Kai’s heart hurt.

“Did you…”

Lloyd looked up as Kai trailed off, pulling himself into more of a sitting position, and his gaze found the photo. His eyes darkened, but he took it from Kai’s hands, anyway. He stared at it for a moment, his face unreadable as he traced his fingers along the cracks, then, suddenly, he was throwing the frame across the room, where it shattered against the floor loudly. A sob caught in his throat, and he wiped at his eyes.

Kai wrapped his arms around him in a hug, noticing as Lloyd flinched, hard, when he squeezed his arm. He made a mental note to make him go to the medbay later, but for now, he didn’t push it.

“Kai?”

“Hm?” “I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier.”

“Bud, there’s nothing to be sorry about. We both made mistakes. But it’s over now. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay.”

“No,” Kai breathed out, running a hand through his hair as tears stung in his eyes. “You’re right. It’s not.”

Lloyd whimpered, curling closer. “He’s gone, Kai. How can anything ever be okay again?”

“I don’t know, bud. Maybe it won’t be. But you know what? We keep going. Wherever life takes us, we keep on going, and we don’t give up.”

“It’s hard to keep going.”

“Then we just hold on. As tight as we can.”

Lloyd sobbed into the side of his gi, and Kai buried his face in Lloyd’s hair as tears slipped down his cheeks. Never again, was he going to take this for granted. He had already made that mistake with Cole.

And for that, Kai made sure to grip on a little tighter.

[lomlwintersoldier]

“Mine. Mine to Me.”

Word Count: 1494

A/N: jfc I have missed writing- tfatws has reignited my love for marvel and for Bucky so hopefully I can push out a few more oneshots/drabble/chapters in between classes. Although for the time being, I only want to write stories where Tony, Steve, and Natasha still exist :( as far as I care, endgame didn’t happen. 

This one was inspired by the line from the new Jungle book :)

97 days.

That’s how long you’d been on this mission, one long, painfully unbroken stretch of time. 97 days without seeing home or any recognizable face except for Natasha’s. And the days seemed to stretch longer and longer as time went on and at this point, you couldn’t wait to leave. 

You’d spend most of the winter in the harsh mountains of Serbia, gathering intel and running supplies to an abandoned factory building that the Avengers hoped to turn into a base. Tony trusted the two of you to shape the compound in his image but, damn, were you tired of it. Thankfully though, you and Natasha were slated to leave today, both of you anxiously waiting to make the journey home. 

“You doing okay, Y/N?” Natasha asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

You give her a wounded smile, nodding. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just can’t wait to go home.” 

“Me neither.” She gives your hand a comforting squeeze as she walks off to check the perimeter, ensuring that the building was still abandoned. 

You continue packing up yours and Natasha’s things, although neither of you had brought more than a few changes of clothes and some basic toiletries. HYDRA had taught both of you how to exist on nearly nothing. 

Natasha strides back in as you finish cleaning up and you wordlessly hand her her pack. 

“Let’s head out,” you state. 

She nods and the both of you make the long hike back to the hidden quinjet you’d left 3 months ago. It was about a day's hike from the base because secrecy was of utmost importance to this mission. 

You’re quiet for most of the miles you two walk but it’s not uncomfortable. Both you and Natasha didn’t need long conversations which was why the two of you had become so close. Words flowed like a steady stream between you but both of you understood and felt comfortable in silence as well. 

By the time you reach the jet hidden in a snowy cave, it’s dusk and you’re wiped. The thin air, gusting winds and snow took a lot out of you.  

“8 hours until we’re home, Y/N,” Natasha says, a smile curving her lips and you return her smile.

“I’m sure Bucky missed you as much as you missed him,” she states as if she could read your mind. 

Your heart pangs. Goddamn, you’d missed him over these last three months. “I just can’t wait to see him again.” 

“I know, hun,” her own words colored with longing. This time, you squeeze her hand. 

“Steve missed you too, Nat.”

Her hands clench the joystick and she nods. “I really hope he did.” 

You lean back in your chair, trying to breathe and allow yourself to feel excitement at the thought of coming home, but you were far too cautious and pessimistic to believe that nothing would go wrong in the eight hours it would take to get back to New York. 

You settle into your seat and try to think only of Bucky. Of his musky, earthy scent and the dark strands of hair that brushed your cheeks every time he kissed you. God, you couldn’t wait to kiss him. Your mind drifts to his lips, plump and soft and your heart jumps as you think of how good it would feel to just feel him in your arms again. 

Eventually you drift off into sleep, the dark clouds you’re coasting over not providing enough stimulation for your brain to keep you awake. You don’t know how much time has passed but when you open your eyes again, a sliver of orange glow hangs on the horizon. It’s nearly morning. 

“Want me to take over?” You ask, your voice hoarse and cracking from sleep.

Natasha glances over and you can see the weariness in her eyes as she nods and flicks on the autopilot switch. You take her place and she takes yours, falling asleep within seconds. 

The sun peeks over billowing clouds as you guide the jet through the sky at speeds normal people could only dream of reaching. Resisting the urge to push the plane faster to reach your destination just a few minutes quicker, you decide to focus on the rising sun. 

Finally, after it feels like forever and a day, the New York City skyline begins to poke through the low hanging clouds and you breathe a sigh of relief. So close. 

You take the jet past the city, into the countryside of New York where the compound was. Where home rested. 

“Nat,” you call out softly, gently raising her from her sleep. “We’re home.” 

You exchange excited smiles as both of you see two hulking figures standing on the landing pad, where you guide the plane down. When the wheels touch down you can barely keep yourself from leaping to your feet, but you remember to power the plane down first. Natasha grabs the packs as you unbuckle and you grip each other’s hands when you hit the button to open the doors. 

Bright sunlight suddenly burns your eyes and you quickly shut them, squinting through the rays as you make your way down the steps. As your eyes get used to the brightness, his shape begins to form in your eyeline.

He’s wearing a gray t-shirt, proudly showing off the black and gold arm he’d received from Wakanda and your heart swells. He used to feel such embarrassment over his HYDRA given arm and to see him stand there, so stoically, gives you pride. 

His face splits into a wide grin as he steps toward you. 

“Bucky,” his name falls from your lips in a hushed whisper as he struts over to you. Your own face hurts and you realize it’s because you’re smiling as widely as he is and you lose all composure. 

Your legs pick up in a run and he stops, spreading his muscular, sinewy arms, ready to catch you. You seem to hang in space, so close yet so far, you can hardly believe he’s real. But before you know it, your body slams into his, his arms coiling tightly around you as a hearty laugh escapes his chest. 

“Hey, dol—“ Your lips crash to his, cutting his words off but you don’t care. You’re drunk on the taste of his love. He returns your kiss, fingers splayed across your back as he gently lowers you to the ground. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, deepening the kiss and you feel his need for you beneath the surface, evidenced by how tightly he’s holding you. He missed you as much as you did. 

“God, I missed you so much!” You exclaim against his lips. He pulls back from your lips but keeps his hands cupped around your cheeks. He takes a breath before he responds, savoring the moment as he holds you in his ocean blue gaze before pulling you close again. His head dips into your neck, stubble scratching the tender skin. 

“I missed you too, love,” he murmurs against you as you entwine your fingers in his hair, eyes closed into the sun. 

It’s rays never felt warmer. 

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

“So how much did you miss me?” You ask coyly as you gaze into Bucky’s cerulean eyes, fingers twirling lazily in his long locks. His metal hand lightly traces circles on your shoulders as a smirk curves the edge of his lips. 

“I thought I just showed you that,” he chuckles, eyes gesturing to your naked body knowingly. 

“Yeah....yeah I guess you did,” you laugh as you nuzzle in closer to him. 

“I really missed you.” You’ve said the words about a hundred times since you got back, just a few hours ago but it still doesn’t feel real to have him here, so close. 

You wrap your leg around his waist, pressing your chest against his and his arms circle around you, as if he’s shielding you from the outside world; it’s just the two of you, no one else but you and him in this bed and in your minds. It’s as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. 

“I was just counting the days,” he murmurs into your hair. “I was going crazy by the end of it though.” 

You chuckle, “you didn’t find anyone to keep you warm while I was gone?” 

You ask the question tentatively masked by a joking façade but you fear the answer. The two of you hadn’t had the time to really define the boundaries of your relationship before you’d gone and it was still relatively new. His arms tighten over you. 

“Of course not.” He pulls back to look at your face. “You’re mine. Mine to me.” 

Your heart skips a beat at his words. 

“You’re mine too,” you whisper, leaning forward to kiss his nose. “Mine to me.”

“You’re the only one that has me, baby,” he murmurs. “And you’re the only one I’m ever gonna want.”

A small smile crosses your lips. 

Yours. His. Mine. 

[thisissirius]

I may live to regret. Asking anyway. 97. Angst/Fluff list.

oh, you want “It’s not that easy.”??? :)))))

backbone eddie/buck, eddie & bobby, speculaaaation so 4x04 trailer spoilers

Bobby comes up the stairs, unsurprised to see Eddie sitting by himself at the table. He sighs, coughs slightly to keep from startling him, and says, “You want something to eat?”

“No,” Eddie says immediately. 

Rounding the table, Bobby catches the expression on Eddie’s face; shut down. Again, no surprise. “You should try.”

Eddie looks at him, blinks. “What?”

“You should try and eat something,” Bobby says again. There’s some extras in the fridge that he takes out. Normally, he cooks from scratch, but nothing about today is sitting right enough for him to do that. 

“I want to punch them,” Eddie says. 

Bobby sighs, leaning on the counter. “I know the feeling.”

Eddie’s fingers, previously splayed on the table, curl into a fist. “Even when I was fighting, it was always about hurting someone who asked for it, you know? Literally asked for it. If you were in that ring? You wanted to be there.”

It’s the most Eddie’s said about his fighting since they hashed it out. Bobby gives Eddie his full attention, but doesn’t interrupt. He’s got a feeling Eddie’s not spoken to anyone since he found out. 

“But I want to punch them.”

“Eddie,” Bobby starts.

“You know what he told me? Sorry to bother you.” Eddie laughs, but Bobby hears the self-deprecation in it, the look of distaste on Eddie’s face. “Like he’s a burden. As if I wouldn’t care that he was hurting.”

Bobby knows the feeling. “He gives and gives. Thinks that means he can’t take it in return.”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t get it.  I would give him—”

Abruptly shutting his mouth on the words, Eddie raps his knuckles on the table, looks off to the left. Bobby doesn’t ask him to continue; he knows well what Eddie’s not saying. 

“He knows.”

“Does he?” Eddie finally meets Bobby’s eyes. He looks devastated, and Bobby’s not prepared for it. He sits at the table near Eddie and lays his arms on the table. “I’m not sure he’s in any position to hear it if he’s not.”

“Maybe not,” Bobby allows, “but he might like knowing he’s got someone in his corner.”

Eddie’s lip curls. “He knows I am. I’m not abandoning him now!”

“I didn’t say that,” Bobby said. “Eddie—”

Scrubbing his hands through his hair, Eddie sits back, folding his arms over his chest. “You know, when I look at Chris, when things get too much.” Eddie looks away, runs his tongue over his bottom lip. Bobby knows what to look for when Eddie’s upset and he sees it; Eddie’s mouth shifts, eyes starting to shine. “I think I’m still not over it.”

Bobby nods, waits him out. 

“If I had turned up sooner, if I hadn’t tried to push things—”

“It’s natural,” Bobby says, “to go over the reasons in your head. To think about the things you could have done differently. Knowing now what you didn’t know then.”

Eddie snorts, shakes his head. “None of that makes it easier. Which is why,” he continues, closing his eyes, “I hated myself for feeling the way I do.”

Bobby raises his eyebrows. 

“About Buck,” Eddie says unnecessarily. His smile is oddly twisted. “I wasn’t ready for a sexuality crisis this late in life.”

“It might not be easy,” Bobby says gently. “But what happened with Shannon, the things you went through, it’s tough, I know. But you’re gonna lose people. It’s inevitable.” He thinks of his wife, children, and it takes a moment to find his voice. “So why not take the chance?”

“Because it’s not that easy,” Eddie says. “Especially now, with this. He won’t even talk to me.”

Bobby nods, understanding. “The most you can do is be with him, Eddie.”

“All of us,” Eddie agrees. 

“Yes,” Bobby allows, but he elaborates. “But also you. Just you.”

Eddie stares at him. 

“Buck needs his best friend,” Bobby points out, knowing if nothing else kicks Eddie in the ass, that will. “Even when he can have Maddie—wants Maddie,” he amends at the look on Eddie’s face, “I know who he’d rather have.” 

There’s a long silence where they stare at each other. Bobby aches for Buck, wants to know he’s safe and well, but he also knows—thanks to the prompting from his wife—that Buck’s emotions are wrung out by his parents being in town. Maybe he’ll want to see Bobby eventually, but for now, Eddie’s the one he needs. 

“Take Chris,” Bobby says. “You know he’ll love that.”

Eddie’s mouth quirks up into a smile, though he stares off, out the windows of the station. “They both will.”

When the silence drags on for too long, Eddie finally breaks. He pulls his phone from his pocket. 

Bobby moves, goes back to preparing a meal. He figures he’ll only need one, and preemptively doesn't start one for Eddie. 

“Hey,” Eddie says into the phone, sounding softer than he has over the past few days. “Where are you?” Buck answers, Bobby can hear his voice, even if he doesn’t know what’s being said. “I’m bringing Chris so turn off whatever shit you’re watching.” Eddie’s smile turns a little more real. “You can’t lie, I know you have Nemo at least.” The smile shifts into a frown. “Tough shit,” he says, sliding out of his chair. “Because Chris and I are coming.” Then, quieter, “I don’t want you to be alone.” Whatever Buck says has Eddie closing his eyes. Bobby is intrigued, but he also feels like an intruder. It’s hard not to be concerned about both of them. “I know. Whatever you need.” Eddie pauses, the hand not on the phone has a white-knuckled grip on the chair. “I know. I’ll be there soon.” A pause. “Yes, with Chris.”

Eddie mumbles something else and Bobby heats up the stove. 

“Cap,” Eddie says, and Bobby looks up. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Bobby says. Eddie’s phone goes into his pocket, then he stands awkwardly in the kitchen. “Tell him we’re here when he needs us.”

Eddie nods, looking a little lost himself for a moment. Whatever he thinks is gone quickly, replaced with the Eddie they know; straight-backed, determined, the hint of a smile on his face. He turns on his heel, heading for the stairs. 

“And Eddie?” Eddie looks back over his shoulder. “Don’t punch anyone.”

“No promises,” Eddie says, but Bobby isn’t worried; Eddie’s got something far more important on his mind.   

[justanotherfanartist]

2, 12, 20, 24, 48, 64, 66, 76, 84, 97, 114, 116, 117, 120, 123, 155 for the ask game (ik it’s a lot, no pressure for any of them)

omggg this is so fun there’s so many!! alrighty I went through and picked my faves (warning it’s a long post lmao):

12: Coffee, tea or cocoa? It depends tbh. If it’s that stupid Vanilla Cold brew from Tim Hortons, coffee all the way. Besides that, I love a good cup of tea. Chamomile and honey is so delicious and soothing. mmm

20: Do you like space or the ocean more?

Talk about a hard one. The idea of living underwater, like in subnautica, is something that makes me all happy tingly when I think about it. It’s something I’m obsessed with in game sometimes lmao, I love it. But space? I don’t think anything can beat space for me. Since I was little, we’ll really my whole life, I’ve been raised with sci-fi. It’s ingrained in my childhood nostalgia, my comfort characters and media, hell it’s in the video games I love (shout out to No Man’s Sky fr). The big empty black filled with stars and silence, but so full of people and other worlds. The ability to be in flush and full environments or simply…the silence. Nothing beats the atmosphere and intrigue of space. It’s like…the good kind of lonely, I guess. 48: A sound you really love? Okay okay I have two for this one. Rain (both soft and FUCKING THUNDERING) and soft, deep static. Or brown noise, whatever you call it. They’re both incredibly comforting and atmospheric, and as someone who lives in Washington state I miss it when it doesn’t rain. Which, these past summers especially, is getting less and less frequent. And hearing the rain reminds me that things can be good for a while. (I hate climate change. I can’t take these heat waves man, they’re not natural around here) 66: Favorite emoticon? 🫂 is the top, followed closely by 🫡 lmao and 👁👁. The first one because as soon as I discovered it I used it all the time to greet or comfort my friends and tbh I just love it for that. The second because the deadpan expression and the salute looks like you’re sending off your friend to their grave after some stupid shit they did it’s a beautiful emoji. And the last one because it coveys “gazing disrespectfully” like no other emoticon ever has. Wait are emoticons like the :) things I’m just not realizing they might be uhm. :] is top tier because it looks like a cute little smiley robot! 97: How long can you hold your breath for? Lets see! … 47.37 secs but I’m sure I could push for longer

155: Do you like to play with others hair? I think it’s nice ngl. What I reaally need is a friend with super fluffy hair that lets me give them headpats and muss it up affectionately and run my hands through it…sigh. I have my own hair tho which I mess with all the fuckin time lmao so yeah. 10/10 messing with hair is good times. Yknow, this reminds of a friend of mine. She loves messing with peoples hair but hates it when people touch hers. Back when I had longer hair, I would let her mess with it whenever she asked. She would play with it or style it or braid it, just with her hands or whatever she had ON hand haha. Usually just while we were talking, I would sit down and she would sit above me and it would just kind of be like that as we all talked with the rest of our friends. She uh, she moved recently. Out of state. And it’s gonna be weird not seeing her again. I really idolized her a lot when I was younger, and we had the nickname of Twins because our teachers used to mix up our names all the time. I never got to be as close to her as I wanted, mostly because of myself, and I’ll miss her. But I like seeing things that remind me of her, especially the hair thing. She really hated it when people touched hers lol, so we never did. She braided a lot of my friends and I’d hair at one point or another. She’s great.

[imaginesforjohnnydepp]

Summer ‘97 (Johnny Depp x fem reader)

based on summer by the carters. listen to the song here

@kittenlittle24  @evelynrosestuff

You and Johnny laid back on lounge chairs, watching the summer sky go from pink to orange, the both of you with a bottle of Corona but neither of you drunk, only a slight buzz. Your two kids, John Christopher, or Three as everyone called him, and Camille, who are five and one respectfully, were in their room sound asleep. They’d be up again in a few hours but for now the two of you were enjoying the quietness, save for the seagulls. “Can you believe this is our life? Married, two kids, a big house? And getting to do stuff like this?” Johnny asked you, leaning on his forearms. No, you couldn’t believe it. 

You just celebrated your fifth wedding anniversary and already you have two adorable kids, a house in the Hollywood Hills, and enough money to where you don’t have to worry about where the next meal is coming from, or if you’ll have enough money to keep the lights on. It’s a privileged life, one you never thought you could have, and you voiced those thoughts out loud. “I still can’t believe it. All of the rich kids I went to school with had vacations and lives just like this. Traveling the world every summer, expensive toys and clothes. Todd, Joan and I got our clothes and toys from garage sales and thrift stores,” you reminisced. Oftentimes, you and your sister would share a wardrobe and your brother’s hand-me-downs to save money, which meant you were the perfect target for bullies. You also didn’t have a car until you graduated college, and you got it cheap at the time off your roommate.

Everything is so peaceful out on the water, it was so easy to forget where you are or who you are, and you didn’t want to leave. Unfortunately, you had to get back to the real world as Johnny starts filming his new movie in a week, and you have to enroll your son in pre-k. Thankfully, Johnny will be filming in L.A. but it’s not as if he would be home every night for dinner or to see Three off to school or pick up, which meant you were basically going to be running the house by yourself and keep up with two kids who got into everything under the sun. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay by yourself with the kids?”

He sounded nervous. “Really Johnny, I’ll be fine. If I get too in over my head I’ll call both our moms.” Your mom and mother-in-law loved helping out with the kids, and Three seemed to love all of the embarrassing stories of your youth, and their cooking. Plus your mom and Betty Sue get along like white on rice. The sky was turning a nice shade of purple and you finished your drink.

Johnny pulled you across his lap and kissed the back of your head. “Sometimes I feel like I’m always leaving you to do all the work. I can’t remember the last time I spent this much time with Three and Camille, and they’re growing so fast.” For the majority of your pregnancies, Johnny was always filming, and after this mini vacation, he would be filming again. “Johnny, we knew this wasn’t going to be easy, but I think we’re doing okay, and I had to practically pry the baby away from you to put her down.” Over the course of the week, your toddler had turned into a complete daddy’s girl who always wanted to be held by her daddy.

It was a wonderful week, no cameras watching your every move, and if they did, you never saw them. You taught the kids how to swim in the ocean and ate great food. Every night they fell asleep at the same time, in the evening after dinner and a book, and you and Johnny would just sit out on the balcony of your hotel room. You twisted around to look at him and smiled. “You know, I think we got this marriage thing down. Five years, two kids, no bumps in the road.” The two of you eloped after six months of dating when you found out you were pregnant with your son, and only your family knew about it.

You made the most of the time you had left, documenting every experience, but all too quickly for your liking, you were ambling through LAX, Camille in her carrier with the blanket covering her face and Three right next to you while Johnny pushed the cart that held your luggage. All of you were wearing ball caps and sunglasses, and you managed to get through the terminal unnoticed. Tomorrow would be back to business for you: getting your son ready for school meetings with your manager, grocery shopping and laundry. You were ready to tackle it all now that you felt relaxed and refreshed. Just another Tuesday.