#Look at these idiots doing a little dance

[comical-icicle]

I had an idea…

[strawberry-nugget]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀᴛꜱᴜᴋɪ ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

~In which you and Katsuki watch 'Ride your Wave' and you end up crying uncontrollably about it in his arms, featuring a twist on 'would you love me if i was a worm'

Tags // Warnings: Fluff, like a lot of it, crack, these two idiots are sappy and in love, they’re SAPPY I’m telling you, cuddles cuddles cuddles, a little somnophilia (??) towards the end, uhhhh reader smokes for a second.. Enjoyyyyy :>

All CHARACTERS ARE 20+

Word Count: 6.4k

You sob. 

Unfathomably hard and uncontrollably. 

Wine bottle in one hand, cigarette in the other, you dig your clothed knee in your eye socket and pat the salty tears away from your eyelashes— careful not to rub; your lash tech will kill you if you rip your extensions off once again. 

You're not even halfway through this goddamn one and a half hour movie and your eyes can't stop welling up. You have to pause it, wipe your eyes and then press play, then continue the circle all over again until you absolutely cannot keep your own two eyes open. 

The candle on the coffee stand that serves as the only lighting in the room hurts your eyes too much. Your nose is splitting at the seams from how much you've to wipe it with toilet paper— your chest heaves. Up, down. Like it's filled with all the sorrows that the protagonist of the movie you're watching carries.

And then, there's Katsuki. 

“Put out that cigarette, ya look like shit holding it”

Pressing his lips into an angry pout as you pause the movie again, red orbs boring into you from the corners of his eyes and as of now, you decide to unwrap his arm away from you. 

“You're so evil!” You sob as you speak, hiccuping a breath. “You're a bad, bad man, Katsuki”

“Oh you're never getting a movie rec from me ever again”

Even though he seems taken aback by your sudden change of position, his arm doesn't retreat completely. It hovers there, fingers twitching like he’s considering whether to pull you back in or let you decide your next position that uses him as a body pillow. 

“Good,” you hiccup again, grabbing the remote and jamming the play button. “Your taste in Shoujo is gut wrenching”

“S'not”

With pouty lips and the sides of his mouth wrinkled in action, his palm takes a hold of the side of your head, pushing you onto his lap. You give him little resistance, shocked and sobbed out as you are— you collapse into his knees with a gorilla grip on the neck of the wine. 

“Who makes a love story this sad Katsuki? Who does that?”

Instead of replying, he licks his lips slightly, catching his button lip between his teeth for as long as a second lasts. His eyes shut close for one, two, three seconds. He's far more dramatic than you, when you're the one who's crying. 

You try to roll your head to glare at him, to no avail. It's hard to do so with blurry eyes and his fingers being an obstacle to your ogling, but you do catch your glimpse anyways, as he inhales sharply through his nose. Just as his neck tenses. 

“You're a drama queen. That's all”

It's astounding how weirdly hot he looks right now. Half lid eyes that flicker golden and vermillion flames as the orange lights of the candle dance, casting rays of light onto every sharp feature and angle of his face. That alone is almost enough to distract you from the movie. Was he not the ultimate menace that he is with you right now, you'd jump him. 

The second he presses play, his thumb hooks over the bottle neck, over your fingers, to grasp it away from your hands. You hear as he gulps some wine down, even if your eyes are glued to the screen. 

Soon enough, when he moves your body to get the rest of the wine on the coffee table, you're already bursting into another fit of tears. 

You can't actually believe Himiko's best friend just confessed to his girlfriend. 

Katsuki pauses the movie, again and bows his head to look at you— the hand that's wrapped over your head to softly stroke the hair over your ear, ready to violate your face. 

Through silent sobs, you know he's trying to cheer you up. 

He absolutely hates to hear you cry. There's heartstrings that are being pulled into existence every single time he hears a sob coming from the depths of your throat. It hurts him more than this dumb movie ever could. 

Still, he opts to run his pointer across your face, hook it under your top lip and pull it. He tries to poke your eye open and he even taps the pad of his finger onto your good—and not runny, nostril to cut away your air intake. He laughs like a menace at it, before he shoves it into your nostril for a split second. 

“Katsuki!” you yell, and oof— there's that playfulness back in your voice “You're so gross. Ew”

“Trynna fuck new wholes babe”

You scratch your nose in disgust as he lets out that familiar raspy laugh of his, make a move to snatch your tissue from your hand to wipe his finger. He bullies you with it, wavering it across your face like he's going to touch you with it. Like you're not full of your own tears and snot already. 

“Ew ew” you laugh as you sob. Hand reaching out to shove his finger away from your face only to end up fighting him on the couch.  But with a flip of his wrist and his leg, you land right on top of him; chest to chest. As if you're not still holding his finger. 

If that's what he does with you while you're just holding his finger, just to play fight with you, imagine what he does to villains… that as a notion is almost hot enough to stop your sobs. 

You stay pinned on top of his chest, his hands, wrapped around your waist and trapping you in your position. The tissue is nowhere in sight for him to bully you with it, but as you squeal and wiggle to get out of his grasp and get the revanche you need, you dive nose first between his pecs and vigorously wipe your face onto his T-shirt. 

“Oh? And I'm the disgusting one?” he humors “you ain't getting me to move babe”

With a heavy head, you stop wiggling— you take a deep breath, as muffled as it is, and completely relax into his arms. A very well known surrendering tactic that has to make him let his guard down. 

You're more than determined to win this play fight. He made you cry with his movie rec and now he's acting all high and mighty, so it should be fair! 

While you're deep in thought about your next move, eyes already set on his neck and your upcoming attack on the spot, you're taken aback, when he grabs your cheeks in one hand, catching you with puckered lips. The lethal weapon! 

“Stop it! Katsuukii! Let go of my cheeks” you mumble. 

He groans as a response, opting to press play. 

Not even five minutes pass before you're caught up in tears again. This time though your boyfriend doesn't whine about it. 

He holds you closer, free hand searching the spot on the back of the couch where your fluffy blanket is, to wrap it around both of you. 

Only when he's turned the two of you in a human-couch-blanket burrito, does he leave a soft peck to your forehead. The sudden act of affection makes you nuzzle into him and in return he just wraps the blanket snugglier over you, until only your eyes and nose are poking out. 

Your fingers clutch over his T-shirt as new tears fall down your eyes and onto him. You try to steal a glance at him, only to find him boring his eyes into the TV. No emotion behind them whatsoever. 

“How are you not bawling right now?”

“I’m a baller not a bawler” 

Though you shoot him a disgusted look, the sound of laughter after a small pause, broken by one or occasionally two sniffles fills the entire living room. 

“You're a child” You whine and Katsuki sports the smuggiest expression a person could muster; one eyebrow raised, an evil and way too wide grin, chest rising impossibly high as he breathes— he's too proud of his humor. You almost don't want to ruin it for him. 

He rasps a laugh that's too loud, too throaty as he locks your body with his hands again.

“Katsuki, stop it!”

“Seriously though. Stop crying or I'm turning it off”

“Nooooo, don't do this to me” you wail dramatically. 

He plants a kiss to the top of your forehead as if to interrupt your sentence and with half poured lips that you can barely distinguish in the dark he says “You cry over everything” 

His tone is teasing, but there’s something gentler beneath the raspiness of his voice. Something as serious as a confession. You pout, your sniffles returning. Looking at him, you catch that otherwise undetected-by-most-people agenda that he pushes when he has to speak up about his feelings. 

It's as true as it can get; Katsuki hates to be the reason you shed tears. He hates to see you cry and he has to make sure you cheer up so he can sleep better tonight. Otherwise the guilt that'll start eating him away is going to be the root of an emotion that'll shutter his heart for good this time. 

You kiss him, slightly pecking his lips, and it's alright. It's fine. He's not the one responsible for your tears— he thinks. 

“Don't cry over a stupid movie too”

“You don’t get it,” you sniff, pulling a piece of toilet paper from the squashed roll on the couch next to you. “This movie—it’s not just sad. It’s like—” you gasp, clutching your chest dramatically. “It’s like someone reached into my soul and ripped it out! It’s—”

“—a movie,” he interrupts flatly, leaning back into the couch with a heavy sigh. His arm falls over the backrest, brushing your shoulder, and you can tell he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care whether or not you snuggle back in. “That I'll turn off if you don't stop crying”

“I didn’t know it’d be like this!” you wail, grabbing the throw blanket and wrapping it around yourself like armor. “I thought it’d be... I dunno, like bittersweet at most. Not—” your voice breaks on another sob, and you bury your face into the blanket, muffling the rest of your sentence.

Katsuki lets out a long, exaggerated groan, but you don’t miss the way he leans toward you, resting his chin on his fist over your head, like he’s actually waiting for you to calm down. He won’t admit it—he’d rather bite his tongue off—but you know he likes it when you’re this messy around him, when you let him see all your raw, ugly bits.

“Shut up.” But you scoot closer anyway, your side pressing into his, and he doesn’t pull away this time. Instead, his arm falls naturally back over your shoulders, grounding you. “Let's just finish it”

With a deep, shuddering breath, you grab the remote, press play, and sink into him.

His arm doesn’t move far, just shifts slightly as if unsure whether to pull you closer or let you keep your space. But Katsuki isn’t one to stay unsure for long. His hand rests lightly on your shoulder, fingers brushing against your blanket cocoon, and you feel the heat radiating from him—steady, grounding, like a lifeline.

You stay snuggled like this for as long as the last act of the movie plays out; unsurprisingly you’re laid on his chest again, by the time the movie is finished.

The movie finally ends, the screen fading to black as the credits roll. The soft hum of the ending theme fills the room, and you let out a content sigh, your head still resting on Katsuki’s chest. His heart beats steadily beneath your ear, a soothing rhythm that makes your eyelids feel heavier by the second

“You’re such a crybaby,” he mutters, but his voice is softer this time, like he’s afraid of breaking the fragile moment. His red eyes flick to the TV screen, then back to your face, where the tears are still pooling right onto the middle of his shirt despite your best efforts to wipe them away. “Seriously. It’s just a movie.”

“It’s not just a movie!” you gasp, twisting to face him. The blanket slips off your shoulder, and he immediately pulls it back up with a small, exasperated huff. “Katsuki! It’s—” your voice wavers, cracking on a sob, “—it’s...

He stares at you for a moment, when you struggle to compose words in your sleepy state. 

The candlelight is making his features impossibly soft. For all his rough edges, there’s something boyish in the way his lips quirk into a half-smile, like he’s amused by your melodrama but doesn’t have the heart to call you out on it outright.

“You knew it was sad going in, though,” he points out, leaning back into the couch and casually draping his arm over your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I told you it’d be a tearjerker, and you were like, ‘No, Katsuki, let’s watch it anyway. I can handle it.’ And now look at you.”

“I didn’t know it’d be this sad!” you almost wail, clutching the edge of the blanket like it’s your only defense against the emotional onslaught. “I thought it’d be bittersweet, maybe a few tears. But this? This was—” you hiccup, your voice catching, “—soul-crushing!”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, but the small laugh that escapes him is warm, almost fond. “You’re so dramatic,” he says, but his hand starts rubbing small circles on your shoulder, the motion soothing despite his words. “It’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” you gape at him, wiping your eyes with the corner of the blanket. “Did you see that last scene? Did you hear the song? It’s like they ripped my heart out and stomped on it, Katsuki. And you’re fine?”

“I’m not crying like a baby, if that’s what you mean,” he says smugly, but there’s a faint blush creeping up his neck, and you narrow your eyes suspiciously.

“You’re lying,” you accuse, leaning closer to squint at him. “You cried. I know you did.”

“I didn’t,” he insists, looking away too quickly to be convincing.

He looks at you with an all familiar pout; its a shame he took your sleepiness away.

“Liar!” You poke his cheek, and he swats your hand away, grumbling under his breath. But there’s a telltale softness in his expression now, one you’ve come to recognize as Katsuki’s version of letting his guard down. This time you won't tease him with the ‘are you leaving me’ joke, just because he shoved your hand away.

“Fine,” he mutters, finally meeting your gaze. “Maybe it was a little sad. But you’re the one who’s turned this into a whole production.” His hand squeezes your shoulder lightly, the gesture at odds with his teasing tone. “You gonna survive, or do I need to call an ambulance?”

“I’ll survive,” you mumble, leaning into his side and letting the warmth of him chase away the lingering ache in your chest. “But only if you let me pick the next movie for our day offs. Something happy this time.”

“Whatever,” he says, but his arm tightens around you, pulling you closer until your head is resting against his chest. “Just stop sniffling all over me.”

You let out a watery laugh, curling into him as the ending titles play on. And even though your heart still aches, it’s a little easier to bear with Katsuki by your side.

You sniffle, burying your face further into Katsuki’s chest, his familiar scent wrapping around you like a blanket. His hand moves absently, fingers threading through your hair in a way that’s far gentler than one would expect from someone so rough around the edges.

“You’re really pathetic, y’know that?” he murmurs, but there’s no bite in his words. Instead, his tone is warm, teasing, like he’s not-even-secretly pleased to have you curled up against him like this.

“And you’re a liar,” you shoot back, though it comes out muffled by his hoodie. “I felt you tense up during that scene with the surfboard. You totally cried.”

“Did not,” he grumbles, but the tips of his ears are bright pink, betraying him. “You were too busy bawling to notice anything.”

“I wasn’t bawling!” you protest, pulling back just enough to glare up at him. “I was… emotionally invested.”

“Sure,” he says, smirking down at you. But his hand doesn’t stop stroking your hair, and the corners of his eyes soften in that way they only do when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

You poke his chest playfully, your finger sinking into the soft fabric of his hoodie. “Admit it. You cried a little. Just a tiny bit.”

“Nope.”

“Not even when they sang together?”

“Not even then.”

“Not even when—” your voice cracks, and your eyes start welling up again. “When he—”

“Oi,” Katsuki interrupts quickly, pulling you back against him before you can spiral. “Don’t start again. You’re already dehydrated from all the crying you’ve done tonight.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound breaking through your sniffles. “You’re the worst comforter ever.”

“And yet,” he mumbles as he presses a kiss to your hair, tilting his head smugly, “here you are, clinging to me.”

“Because you’re warm,” you counter, wrapping your arms around his waist for emphasis, wiggling them just between his hoodie and the couch “And because you’re not as mean as you pretend to be and you looooove me”

“Tch.” He looks away, but his hand settles more firmly on your back, holding you close. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

“Might as well sleep on you right now”

Your words are like a child’s whine. You grab onto him for life and bury yourself further into him—so much that everything suddenly feels too soft, too warm. The notion of that heartbreaking movie is a thousand years away.

“Don’t fall asleep here,” Katsuki mutters, though he doesn’t make any move to push you away. “You’ll drool on me.”

“I don’t drool,” you mumble, already half-asleep again. “But even if I did, you’d deal with it because you love me.”

“Dumbass,” he grumbles, but when you feel him press the lightest of kisses to the top of your head, you know he doesn’t mean it.

The room falls into a tranquil silence, save for the designated trailers of movies that follow the credits of the one you just finished and the soft crackle of the candle on the coffee table. You shift slightly, nestling closer into Katsuki’s chest, and he doesn’t complain—just adjusts his arm to wrap more securely around you, like he’s silently resigned to being your personal heater for the rest of the night.

“You’re gonna fall asleep like this,” he mutters, though his voice is quieter now, softer. It almost sounds like he doesn’t mind.

“Maybe I will,” you murmur back, your words drowsy and slurred. “You’re comfy.”

“Don’t call me that,” he huffs, but his thumb brushes gently against your shoulder, a contrast to the gruffness in his voice.

You peek up at him, your cheek still squished against his hoodie. His face is half-lit by the warm glow of the candle, and you can see the faintest crease in his brow, like he’s still pretending to be annoyed even though his hand hasn’t stopped tracing soothing patterns on your back.

“You like it,” you tease, a small, sleepy smile tugging at your lips.

He looks down at you, his crimson eyes darkening with curiosity. “Like what?”

“Mmmm” You respond, sporting your tongue out. 

Sleepiness escapes you in an instant when you light bulbs above your head with a different, new and so very fresh thought about how the conversation is going to turn out. 

He knew that you would ask him this at a point anyway, the second he picked that damn movie.

“What would you do if you died and your best friend confessed to me like Wasabi did?”

You ask and Katsuki sighs, bringing his palm across his face to wipe his annoyance away from it.

And though you might be giggling in your skirts about it, all Katsuki can think of is—Where the fuck did this ever come from?

“I ain’t answering that, babe” he deadpans

“please please tell me”

Katsuki lets out a heavy sigh, the kind that makes it clear he’s already regretting entertaining this conversation, but for the sake of you being sleepy and whiny he will—good news for the weird girlfriend community but you just made it!

Katsuki’s face contorts in concern for a moment as he looks at your mischief expression. His hand stays pressed against his face for a moment before dragging it down, revealing the faintest furrow of his brows and a glare that’s more exasperated than genuine.

He so knows you’re never giving up on this.

You sit up slightly, propping your chin on his chest and giving him your best —sleep-ish— puppy-dog eyes. Katsuki groans, tilting his head back like he’s praying for patience, but his arm stays firmly around your waist, keeping you close.

“I ain’t answering that, babe,” he repeats, his tone a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“But it’s important!” you whine, poking his chest with your finger. “What if your best friend pulled a Wasabi and told me they loved me after you—” your voice falters, “—you know, weren’t around anymore?”

His vermillion eyes snap down to meet yours, narrowing slightly. “First of all, I’m not dying anytime soon, so quit it with the depressing crap.”

“Katsuki!” you pout, smacking his shoulder lightly. “Just humor me!”

He sighs, dragging his palm down his face again, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Fine,” he mutters. “If some idiot—bitch ass idiot may I add—tried to pull that move, I’d haunt his ass. Forever.”

You snort, your pout quickly replaced by a grin. “You’d haunt them? Like, spooky ghost noises and knocking things off shelves?”

“Damn right I would,” he says, smirking now. “I’d make sure they can’t sleep, can’t eat, can’t do anything without thinking about how badly they screwed up.”

“That’s so petty,” you tease, laughing softly.

“You asked,” he counters, shrugging one shoulder. “Besides, they’d deserve it. You’re mine, and even if I wasn’t here, that wouldn’t change. Did I mention there’d be a lot of blood apart for spooky noises?”

Your cheeks feel warm at the possessiveness in his tone, but there’s an unexpected warmth in it too, something that makes your heart flutter despite the ridiculousness of the conversation.

“You’re so dramatic.” you say, trying to suppress your smile.

“Says the one who cried through a whole ass movie,” he shoots back, leaning down so your noses almost touch. “But I mean it. Doesn’t matter what happens—I’m always gonna be yours and you’re not losing me anytime soon, got it?”

“Got it,” you whisper, your voice softer now. Oh that pout of his right now would have you haunting anyone for him as well. “Me too”

“Good,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, lower lip lingering on the spot for a second too long, before flopping back against the couch. “Now quit asking dumb questions and let me enjoy the peace and quiet for five fucking seconds.”

But you can’t stop smiling as you snuggle back into his chest, feeling more loved than ever—even if Katsuki would never admit it outright.

You nuzzle closer, your cheek pressed against his chest as his heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear. His hand resumes its place in your hair, lazily twisting strands between his fingers. The room feels softer now, wrapped in a blanket of warmth that’s entirely him.

“You’d really haunt them?” you ask again, your voice a playful whisper.

“Damn straight,” he mutters, but his tone is lighter, like he’s secretly amused by how seriously you’re taking this. “They’d regret it the second they even thought about pulling something like that.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you giggle, your fingers tracing small patterns over his hoodie. “But I guess it’s kinda sweet. In a ‘territorial ghost’ kind of way.”

“Sweet?” he echoes, scoffing, but the way his hand shifts to cradle the back of your head says otherwise. “You’re so weird. Who calls haunting someone sweet?”

“You’re not just haunting anyone,” you point out, grinning against his chest. “You’re haunting them for me. It’s romantic, in a twisted Katsuki kind of way.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but you catch the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If you’re gonna call me romantic, at least don’t add the ‘twisted’ part.”

“I’d simply haunt you if I were in your place” you tease, tilting your head up to look at him. His face softens as his eyes meet yours, the usual sharpness of his gaze melting into something warmer.

His hand freezes for a moment before he lets out a quiet sigh, his breath ruffling your hair. “You’re ridiculous, there’s no place that I’m in for you to take it. Also what the hell… Me? What for?” he says, but there’s no heat in the words. If anything, there’s a hint of something softer, like he’s given up on trying to act tough. Like he’s genuinely curious as well.

“So I can be with you forever”

Katsuki clicks his tongue to sound displeased, but his grip tightens around you. He takes a deep breath—one that makes you move along with his chest— as in to erase any horrible thought that might have sparked from your interaction.

Sleepiness drowns him like the depths of a river.

You tilt your head back at the realisation, grinning up at him. “Say say…”

“Sleep.”

“Nooooo one more question”

He grumbles, shifting so that you’re more snugly tucked against him and closes his eyes. His other hand grabs the remote and lowers the volume on the TV, the credits now nothing more than a faint background hum.

“Shhh, the next number one hero needs to sleep”

“More like number thirteen. And that’s pushing it”

His left eye flutters open at your giggling “Huh? I’ll kill you” he barks and you burst out laughing. “Just let me sleep woman”

“But Katsuki,” you say with a mischievous grin, tilting your head to look up at him, “which one of your friends would ever do such a thing?”

“Stop”

Katsuki groans, his head falling back against the couch like he can’t believe you’re still going at it. “None of those idiots would dare,” he mutters, but there’s a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he knows exactly where this is headed.

“Oh, come on,” you tease, poking his chest lightly for the uptenth time. “What about Kirishima? He’s your best friend. You think he’d confess to me?”

Katsuki snaps his head down to glare at you, his red eyes narrowing. “Kirishima? His bitch ass would probably cry over the idea of it being disrespectful or some crap like that.” 

Giggling impossibly hard, you wipe a tear from your eye, grinning up at him. 

“He doesn’t even have the guts to take the last slice of pizza when we’re all hanging out. He’s not confessing to anyone”

You’re laughing so hard now that you’re practically wheezing, and Katsuki’s smirk has turned into a full-blown grin despite himself. He shakes his head, his hand coming up to rest on your back, rubbing small circles as if to keep you from laughing yourself into oblivion.

“You’re seriously nuts, you know that?” he says, but his voice is warm, and there’s a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Maybe,” you gasp, finally calming down enough to speak. “But…  this is fun.”

“You’re right. It’s only fun for you” he sighs “And for the record, none of those extras would stand a chance with you. Not while I’m around.”

You grin, your heart swelling at the certainty in his voice. He huffs, rolling his eyes, but the way he tugs you closer tells you he doesn’t mind. 

“If it was Izuku?” you ask, your grin turning so sly as you watch Katsuki’s expression darken instantly. His hand freezes on your back, and his red eyes narrow into slits, the annoyance practically radiating off him in waves.

“Deku? Nuh uh, no way in hell.”

You bite back a laugh, trying to keep your composure. “Why not? He’s sweet, polite, and—”

“Don’t even start,” Katsuki interrupts, his voice low and dangerous. “Deku wouldn’t have the guts, for one. And even if he did, I’d—” He stops, his jaw clenching as if the thought is too ridiculous to finish.

“You’d what?” you ask innocently, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him.

He glares down at you, his face redder than usual. “I’d beat the crap outta him, that’s what.”

“As a ghost?”

“Hell yeah”

You can’t help but burst into laughter at the image of ghost Katsuki chasing poor Izuku around like a storm cloud of fury. “Katsuki, he’s your childhood friend! You wouldn’t really beat him up, would you?”

“Try me,” he growls, crossing his arms over his chest like a stubborn child. “If he even thought about it, I’d make sure he never forgot his place.”

“His place?” you echo, grinning. “What, at the bottom of your imaginary pecking order?”

“Exactly,” Katsuki huffs. “Deku doesn’t have the balls, and even if he did, you’d never go for him. Right?”

There it is—the smallest flicker of insecurity hidden beneath his usual bravado. It tugs at your heart, making you soften instantly.

“Of course not,” you say gently, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “I don’t want Izuku. I want you, Katsuki.”

His eyes widen slightly at your words before he looks away, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Tch. Damn right you do.”

“Always baby” You smile, settling back against his chest as his arm slides back around your waist, pulling you close. “But for the record, I don’t think Izuku would ever confess to me. He’d be too worried about hurting your feelings.”

“Damn right he would,” Katsuki mutters, but his tone is lighter now, the tension in his shoulders easing “and you’re not funny by the way”

“Don’t act like you don’t enjoy it,” you tease, resting your chin on his chest. “I’m funny and you hate being wrong.”

“Damn right I do,” he says, smirking again. “You’re still not funny though. I ain’t wrong about that.”

You look up at him, your eyes wide and playful, your lips curling into a mischievous grin. "Katsuki," you tease, “I’ll be so funny now, promise” stroking his chest lightly as you speak "say... would you still love me if a villain turned me into a worm?"

Katsuki freezes for a moment, his brows furrowing in confusion, clearly not expecting the question. His eyes turn over to you, narrowing in the way they do when he's trying to figure out whether you're joking or if you're actually serious, only to find you trying to suppress a laugh.

And here he thought you were having a moment.

"Are you out of your damn mind?" he grumbles, but his tone isn't as harsh as usual—there’s a small glimmer of curiosity in his voice. His hand runs through his hair, frustration bubbling beneath the surface as if he’s trying to decide whether to humor you still, or not.

"But seriously," you prod, giving him your best doe-eyed look, the one you know always gets to him. The one from before. "If some villain took me and turned me into a little squirmy worm, would you still love me? Or would you just—what—leave me on the sidewalk to get stepped on and squished by some random person?"

His eyes widen at the thought of this even being an actual possibility—you being a worm. The horror on his face is too much, and you start giggling at the image of Katsuki having to deal with a tiny worm version of you. At the sight of you looking so enthusiastic, he grimaces in disgust first and then his face contorts into frustration.

“Don’t make that face and sayyy”

“Tch... If someone turned you into a damn worm,” he mutters “I’d punch that villain straight into the ground. Then I’d find some way to turn you back into a human. And if that didn’t work, I’d... I’d put ya in a jar or something. Keep you safe ‘n shit.”

You giggle again, completely delighted by his determination. "You’d carry me around in that jar too for dates?" you ask.

"Yeah, no" he grumbles, his voice thick with seriousness. "I’d find some damn way to make sure you're okay. No villain’s gonna turn you into some stupid worm. And you sure as hell ain’t getting squished.”

“But would you still love me?” You chuckle softly, pressing your lips to his chest. "I just wanna know”

“Yeah…”

“You’re so ridiculous, for answering” you tease, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. “But I guess if I ever get turned into a worm, I’m glad I have you to save me.”

“Don’t joke about that,” he mutters, his hand moving to rub the back of his neck. “You’re not gonna be some damn worm. I’d make sure of it.”

You smile up at him, snuggling back into his chest. "I know you would. Because you’d loooove me, worm or not."

Katsuki huffs, but this time, there’s no denying the soft, fond smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, yeah. Keep dreaming. Idiot ass.”

You can’t help but grin as you hear his words. His tone is gruff, as if he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s no missing the softness behind them.

“I’d love you if you were a worm, by the way” Katsuki hears you clear as day;  his gaze still slightly averted like he’s trying to hide how seriously he means it. “I’d even feed you your greens.”

His eyes widen in mock surprise, and you give him a playful shove. “Greens? You’d feed me, a worm, actual greens?”

He looks like he’s about to roll his eyes, but then he catches your grin, and his mouth tightens, clearly trying not to smile. “Yeah, you ass. I’d go out and get the best damn salad for you. Spinach, lettuce, whatever the hell worms eat—if I have to be a worm’s personal chef, so be it.”

“But what if I want my green juice one day and I can’t tell you?” He asks and you cringe at the memory of the taste of that atrocious juice. “With a scoop of protein in it”

“I’d sense it and squish you” you deadpan instantly and he grins in response “I don’t want a fucking farty worm Katsuki. You’re already all that in your human form”

“Shut the fuck up cause you’re lying right now”

“Now that’s a loving boyfriend”

He doesn’t respond right away, and for a moment, you think he’s going to ignore you completely and finally go to sleep, too fed up with your silliness. But then he mutters something so low you almost miss it. “I love you, asshole, ain’t have to ask me all this shit for me to tell you”

“You called me an asshole.” You pout. “Like you don’t like it”

“Yeah, yeah. I like it. Happy now?”

Your smile widens, and you press your face into his chest to hide your excitement. “Very happy.” Wait–but maybe, this is the spot you wiped your nose earlier?

“Good.” He pulls the blanket tighter around the both of you, his chin resting lightly on top of your head. “Now shut up and sleep, idiot.”

You let his words settle over you, warm and weighty, and your eyes finally feel relaxed. Even the soft vibration of his chest as he clears his throat doesn’t startle you.

“Wanna go to bed?” You mumble out, voice barely above a whisper.

“Nah, I don’t wanna move”

“Okay then”

Katsuki’s grip on you shifts, his fingers flexing as he drags you even closer, chest to chest, until there’s barely space to breathe between you. You sleepily coo into him, into that calming heat that only he emits, wrapping the blanket impossibly tight around you and him. The tip of your tongue is sweet with the lingering syllables of a ‘goodnight’ that is exchanged.

Barely fazed by sleep, your fingers trace light circles on him, teasing circles along his ribs.

It’s such a simple thing. Barely a touch at all–but that’s what does it for him. That’s what makes something inside him snap into his usual malevolent self. 

His face lights up like he’s a super villain having just executed his masterplan.

Peacefulness hangs between you for half a second and then his grip on your waist tightens. It’s sharp and sudden. His head tilts, eyes narrowing slightly, even if there’s something dark and thrilled swimming beneath that nightly dulled vermillion.

You don’t react at first, just let your fingers keep moving against his ribs, slow and featherlight. But you feel it, in the way his breath hitches for just a fraction of a second. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your hoodie, teasing against bare skin.

Did you just fucking get him in the mood? 

Katsuki exhales sharply through his nose—almost a laugh. He looks down at you, his eyes softening as he moves a piece of your hair behind your ear. His voice is quieter this time. “Say babe,” he whispers, his lips cuing at the edges of his mouth “would you still love me if I fucked you on all fours with my foot on your head while you’re asleep?”

He has such a nice way of making you feel more cherished than anyone else ever could.

“I’d marry you, by the way”

Silence lingers, stretching between you both. It’s like his breath hitches for just a moment, but his eyes narrow at the sudden confession, as if weighing whether you’re teasing or serious.

“Oh yeah?” His voice is rougher now, lower, dangerous in a way that makes your heart race, despite the sleepiness. He pulls you in closer, his body shifting beneath yours, his heat sinking into your skin. “Pull those fucking panties to the side before you fall asleep."

~All rights reserved: @/strawberry-nugget, 2025. Please do not copy, over write or steal my work.

Likes, reblogs and comments are all appreciated equally💙

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Easy to Love | G.W. 🩷

feat George Weasley x bsf!reader

SUMMARY: You get stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day. Thankfully, your best friend George is ready to give you the Valentine's you deserve.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, hurt/comfort, cheating on shitty boyfriends, idiots to lovers, petty!George, dirty talk, oral, piv, dom!George, all the Valentine's fluff

AN: happy valentines day!!!! you all have my heart 🫶

masterlist

Your hurried footsteps echoed along the empty corridor, dampened by the screaming rain pouring from the thick blanket of clouds over the castle.

Fucking perfect, you thought, bitterly wiping tears and splattered rain from your cheeks. It was like the universe was taunting you.

Stood up by your boyfriend on Valentine's Day? Forced to walk back to Hogwarts in shame? Here, have some torrential downpour to really set the mood.

You still couldn't believe Jack stood you up. Left you looking like an idiot in the Three Broomsticks, alone and glowering into your fruity red drink, surrounded by pink streamers and heart balloons larger than your head. Completely humiliating.

Of all the shitty things he'd done to you over the last six months, this took the cake. And bizarrely, you felt like you deserved it for putting up with his bullshit for so long. You should have seen this coming from a mile away.

But you were too native, too stupid to see the red flags right under your nose. Well, that wasn't true. You saw them. You were just too scared to do anything about it.

Too scared to be alone. Too proud to admit you were wrong about him.

Merlin, George was going to be so fucking smug.

Your best friend, George Weasley, hated Jack. He hated Jack more than you'd ever seen him hate anyone. George had never had a problem with your past partners, albeit there was only two. But something about Jack brought out a side of George you’d never seen: vindictive, petty, mean.

Never directed towards you, of course, Jack and his friends bore the brunt of his wrath. It was enough that Jack steered clear of both George and his twin, who always matched his energy.

You knew George was just looking out for you, trying to protect you from, well, this. What you were feeling now. But you'd be damned if you gave him the satisfaction of being right.

Finally, the Fat Lady greeted you with a warm smile as you reached the top of the stairs. “Not out celebrating, lovey? Look at you, you're soaked!”

You sighed, looking down at your new dress, a babydoll in your favorite shade of pink, the fabric mottled with water and clinging to your skin. “Men suck*,*” you said.

The Fat Lady laughed. “They certainly do! What's the password, dear?”

You have it to her, and she swung open, a wadt of thumping music and the week of alcohol washed over you.

Shit. You'd completely forgotten about the Valentine's party tonight. While a drink sounded lovely, a drunken grind-fest was the last thing you wanted to participate in.

You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to make a beeline towards the girls dormitory. The crowd was thick, pushing and shoving, while music thumped loudly in your brain. Red hearts and cupids and streamers, were everywhere, a sheen of pink glitter starting to collect on your still-damp skin. Everywhere you looked, couples were all over each other, making out of dancing to the music, cuddled up on every available surface.

Tears burned behind your eyes again, and you tried pushing through with a little more force.

You popped out into a quieter area by the roaring fire, a circle of chairs occupied by the Quidditch team and a few others, which meant—

“Y/n?”

You looked up from your feet and locked eyes with George, who was hurriedly shifting a girl off his lap, ignoring her whine of protest while she grabbed at his white shirt.

The knife of hurt inexplicably twisted deeper in your gut, and you turned your back to him, pushing the other way through the crowd.

“Hey—wait!”

You made it to the stairs, but there was no outrunning those long legs—a lesson you'd learned countless times.

George snagged your wrist, turning you back towards him. “What happened?” The furrow between his brows deepened when he took in your tearful, soaked form. “Why are you wet? And where's the bilge-rat you call a boyfriend?”

You yanked your hand out of his hold. “Fuck if I know,” you snapped, trudging up the stairs, George on your heels.

“What do you mean? Didn't you have a date?” He asked, his tone getting angrier by the second.

You didn't respond, opening the door to your dorm and trying to slam it in George's face, but he caught it and pushed in behind you.

“Fuck, will you just tell me what happened? Are you okay?” He made an effort to soften his voice, catching your purse when you flung it at him.

“No, I'm not okay!” You cried, finally facing him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “Jack stood me up. He left me at the bar and—” emotion pinched your throat, cutting off your words.

You watched George cycle through the five stages of grief, frozen in the middle of the room. Then—

“Do you want me to find him?” He asked, voice a carefully measured calm.

“And do what?” You wiped at your cheeks, beyond frustrated. You couldn't decide if you wanted him to fuck off, or give you one of those big bears hugs he was so good at.

“Break his teeth in? Throw him in the lake? Set his hair on fire—”

“Stop it, George,” you muttered, sounding more defeated than angry.

He crossed the room to you, taking your trembling hands. “How can I fix it, love?” he asked, peering down at your pitiful, makeup smudged face.

You shook your head, avoiding his perceptive gaze. “Unless you have a time-turner to make me less of an idiot—”

“Hey.” George squeezed your hands, shaking you. “Don't talk about my girl that way. You did nothing wrong.”

You jerked your hands away, pushing past him and stalking over towards you vanity. “Please. You wanted me to leave him before we even got together. You made it abundantly clear how much you hated him.”

“Of course I did. He’s a prick—”

“So, clearly, you think I did something wrong by staying with him.” You angrily tugged your hair out of its style, wet strands tangled and getting frizzy, and started scrubbing off your makeup with a towelette. “Congratu-fucking-lations, you were right. You got what you wanted. Are you happy now?”

George looked like you'd struck him, hovering behind you in the mirror. You hated that he looked so handsome tonight in his white button down and dark wash jeans, his copper hair messy and flecked with glitter and heart-shaped confetti. It made it so much harder to be angry with him.

“You think this is what I wanted?” He asked. “The last thing I want is to see you hurting. Of course I'm not fucking happy that you're heartbroken. Even if it is over some limp-dick weasel.”

You scoffed, though you knew that was true, but it was easier to be angry right now. Easier to push him away than let him in.

George pressed on. “I'd like to hang him by the bollocks from the Whomping Willow for leaving you out in that storm, for all the shit he's done to you—”

“Just—go back to your party, George. I'm sure that doe-eyed girl is still waiting for you,” you hissed. It was a low blow, but you just wanted him gone so you could wallow in self-pity alone.

Suddenly, he was moving. His hands griped your waist, spinning your around and pressing you back into the vanity. His expression was severe. “Don't fucking do that,” he bit. “Don't act like I'm the bad guy when all I've wanted—” his voice caught in his throat, and he turned his head away, like he couldn't look at you.

His hands were burning through the thin fabric of your dress, his grip tight enough to ache, and you felt a long-suppressed heat kindle in your belly. George had manhandled you plenty of times: throwing you over his shoulder, dragging you by the hand through the halls, lifting you to retrieve a book from a high shelf. But this felt…different. Charged in a way you'd spent years trying to ignore for the sake of your friendship.

“What, George?” You asked, gripping the edge of the vanity so you didn't reach out to touch him.

He sighed. “When all I've wanted is to make you happy.” He looked at you again, his dark eyes filled with hurt and something warm, honeyed, that you refused to acknowledge.

Your anger crumbled into guilt. “I-I should have listened,” you croaked, tears rising once again. “I'm sorry, I—”

“No, no. None of that,” he shushed, bundling you into his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I just feel so…so stupid,” you whimpered, crying into the safety of his chest, enveloped in the spiced, slightly sweet smell of his cologne.

“You aren't stupid, love. Far from it,” he soothed, hand smoothing up and down your spine. “This is on him, not you. You don't deserve to be treated like this.” He rocked you gently while you cried, cooing softly in your ear and keeping you grounded with his touch, until finally, your sobs ebbed to sniffles, and you drew a full, shaky breath. “There you go,” he said. “Take another one—that’s it. I've got you.”

“Thanks, Georgie,” you sniffled into his shirt.

“No need to thank me. I'm sorry that your Valentine's was ruined,” he murmured into your hair.

“I'm sorry yours was ruined too,” you mumbled, your fists tightening in the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him a fraction closer, unwilling to part just yet.

“Ruined?” He chuckled. “Got my Valentine right here.” He squeezed you a little tighter, the air wheezing for your lungs until you laughed.

“Since when am I your Valentine?” You asked, pulling back to look up at him, a traitorous stab of affection making your heart skip. Shit, you should not be feeling these things for your best friend. It was just your hurt feelings, the holiday—nothing more.

“Since second year when I gave you that heart-shaped box of chocolates,” he said, pretending to be offended that you didn't remember.

“The one that exploded pink powder all over my face?”

George grimaced. “I forgot it did that…sorry, by the way.”

You smiled, pinching his freckled cheek. “You're forgiven.”

He grinned back, glancing down at your wet dress. “C’mon, get out of this wet cupcake and meet me in my dorm, I have something for you.”

“Cupcake?” You rolled your eyes, finally stepping out of his arms, though his hand lingered on your waist until you were fully out of arms reach. “It's a dress!”

“If you say so,” he teased, perusing your legs as you walked away. “I prefer your bunny pajamas, but—”

You chucked your shoe at him. “Fuck off, I'll see you in a second.”

He held his hands up in surrender and slipped out the door, closing it softly behind him.

What on earth could have have for you? Probably his usual box of chocolates, you mused as you peeled off the soggy fabric. Hopefully the non-explosive variety.

You riffled through your trunk, searching for something oversized and comfortable. But to your dismay, nearly everything large enough was your boyfriends, and you absolutely refused to wear something of him.

But at the very bottom of your trunk, something familiar caught your eye. You pulled it out, unveiling an old Quidditch hoodie, the letters faded and fabric soft from countless washes. George had lent it to you before a particularly cold match, and Gryffindor won in a landslide. It became a good luck charm of sorts, one you wore to every game there after.

But when you started dating Jack, he'd gotten pissed at you for wearing it, and you'd hidden it at the bottom of your trunk, never quite ready to give it back to George.

It smelled of green grass and open sky, and you tugged it over your head, letting it's warmth envelop you. Then, you put on a pair of sleep shorts and fuzzy socks, and padded out of the room towards George's, knocking twice before letting yourself in.

Fred and George were standing by the window, arguing in hushed voices, and straightened abruptly when you walked in.

“Hey, gorgeous!” Fred said, crossing the room and pulling you into a back-breaking hug. He reeked of beer. “How are we?”

“Peachy,” you replied tightly, glancing at George over Fred’s shoulder. He was scratching the back of his head, looking sheepish.

“Naughty girl, lying to me.” Fred winked, and you swatted his shoulder. “But don't worry, love. The boys are on it!”

“The boys? Wait—Fred!” But he was already gone, the door swinging shut behind him. You glared at George, and he held his hands up.

“They were worried about you!” He said defensively. “We care about you, y’know…” his voice trailed off when his eyes landed on your hoodie. “You still have that?”

Heat creeped up your neck. “’Course I do.”

“I thought shit-for-brains made you—”

“He tried,” you replied, tension coiling around the two of you once again.

A smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. “My good luck charm,” he chuckled, and your heart leapt into your throat.

“So, what do you have for me?” You asked, sitting on the edge of his bed like you always did. But something in his eyes flashed, making your lower belly heat.

What was going on with him?

He pushed himself from the wall and walked towards his trunk, just to the left of you. He rummaged around, withdrawing a pink gift bag with heart-covered tissue paper sticking out from the top.

“Oh, George…you didn't have to do this,” you said when he sat beside you.

“I wanted to.” He shrugged, setting the bag on your lap.

Heart pounding in your chest, you carefully removed the tissue paper, finding a pile of candy: chocolates and gummy lips and heart-shaped lollipops. There were also a few sachets of your favorite tea, pilfered from the kitchen, you imagined, and a copy of the book you'd been eyeballing your last trip to Hogsmeade with him and Fred.

Your heart was so full you feared it may burst. “Georgie, this is so sweet, thank you—”

“There's one more thing,” he said, gently taking the bag from you. He stuck his hand all the way to the bottom, and withdrew a small, pink-wrapped box with a ribbon tied around it.

The air was sucked from your lungs, ears ringing with shock as you gingerly took the box from him. He fidgeted beside you as you slowly unwrapped the paper, fingers trembling. The energy was taught around you, practically humming with tension.

A velvet box fell into your palm, the most gorgeous shade of burgundy with a delicate golden latch.

You almost didn't want to open it, terrified of what this meant, but so giddy you could sing. George, the poor guy, looked ready to burst out of his skin with impatience.

Carefully, you opened the lid. Inside was a gorgeous chain bracelet, the metal polished to perfection, with two charms resting against the velvet pillow. A tiny heart with your initial etched onto it, and a small fox, George's favorite mischievous, red-haired critter.

You pressed a hand to your mouth, tears pooling on your lower lashes. It was the most thoughtful gift you'd ever received. “George, I—”

“And you can get more charms, there's a shop in Hogsmeade with loads, books and birds and stars--”

You flung your arms around his neck, cutting off his nervous rambling. “I love it, Georgie, thank you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck.

He relaxed, his arms looping around your waist. “Of course,” he replied.

You pulled back, wiping at your cheeks with the back of your hand, inspecting the little fox. It crossed your mind that if Jack saw this, he'd be livid, probably go so far as to threaten George, break off the precious little fox, and your smile fell.

“Hey, what happened?” George asked, shifting to kneel in front of you as you curled inward. “You don't like the fox?”

“No, no—” you tried to suppress the tears forcing their way up. “I love the fox. I just—”

George's expression hardened. “Jack won't like it,” he said, an edge to his voice. “You're not going to stay with him, are you?”

You shook your head. “No, I'm not. But we're technically still together—”

“That's bullshit,” George snarled, pushing to his feet and stalking away from you. “He fucking forfeited his right when he left you alone like that. You could have gotten hurt. He just fucking abandoned you and is probably off with some other bird—”

A sob broke free from your chest, and he halted his tirade, shoulders sagging.

“Do you want him?” George asked, crouching in front of you again.

You shook your head. “No, I don’t,” you admitted.

George reached out to cradle your face, catching your tears with his thumbs. His eyes were so sweet, so sincere, it made your teeth ache. “Do you want me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, but the words still felt like a punch through your chest.

Your mind was reeling. Of course, a part of you always wanted more with him, but… “I do, of course I do…but what if that ruins everything?” Your fingers curled into his shirt. “I don't want to lose you—”

“Never,” he said, shaking you so you met his eyes. “Never.”

“Relationships are different, though. What if we don't work like…that?”

His hands moved down to hold your neck, his touch gentle but insistent, your pulse thundering under his fingertips. “I’m still me, and you're still you. Are you going to look me in the eyes and tell me you haven't thought about it? That you haven't felt the pull?”

You don't reply, averting your eyes from his face.

“Not even when you're all alone, and Jack’s left you half-loved, tangled in your sheets…you don't think about me coming in there and taking care of you?”

Heat scorched your cheeks, your thighs clenching at the low purr of his voice, a pitch you hadn't heard before.

“Because I think about it all the time.”

You pussy throbbed and you gasped, shocked by the way your body was reacting to his words alone, your mind scrambling to keep up with this new reality you've stumbled into.

“Knowing I could treat you better, love you better—it keeps me up at night, baby. Imagining all the ways I could take care of you, make you happy, make you mine—”

Unable to stand it any longer, you yanked him forward and connected your mouth with his, cutting him off. He groaned, surging up to tackle you back onto his mattress, his lips hungry and rough against yours. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, his lips, his touch, his heat, burning you from the inside out.

No one has ever kissed you like that before, desperate, ravenous. With an eagerness that was palpable, his heart thundering against yours as he pressed impossibly closer to you.

He pried open your lips with his, his tongue plunging into your mouth with fervid strokes. One of his hands slid under your hoodie, caressing the bare skin of your hip and up your side, leaving tingles in the wake of his calloused palm. His other hand found the crook of your knee, lifting it up to hug his waist, opening your legs so he could press closer, harder…

“George!” You gasped when he rolled his hips against yours, the hard ridge of his cock straining against his jeans, your tiny shorts offering next to no barrier.

“Fuck, I've wanted to hear that for so long,” he panted, burying his face into your neck to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin. “Sound so pretty, baby.” He rolled his hips again, and your whole body arched closer to him, desperate for more as a weak whine spilled from your lips. The seam of his jeans caught your swelling clit just right, making your entire body hum with desire.

“Merlin’s fuck—what are you doing to me?” You keened, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, staring for the feel of his skin against yours.

“The bare minimum,” he teased, nipping at your earlobe. “You make it so easy to love you.” His hands squeezed at your flesh, his breath hot against your neck as he continued rocking your hips together. “So fucking sexy, so responsive. I knew you'd be perfect—” he grunted when you thrust your hips back up against him.

You finally managed to get his shirt off, pushing it over his shoulders and he tossed it onto the floor. The pale stretch of freckled skin on his chest made your mouth water, but you didn't get to admire him for long. He tugged your hoodie over your head, casting it across the room, and revealing the near see-through lacy red thing you'd selected for the evening and didn't bother changing out of.

A broken sound hissed through his teeth. Jealousy bloomed in his eyes, his jaw feathering with irritation.

You reached up to caress his cheek, drawing his eyes to your face. “He never got to see it,” you cooed, petting the hard line of his jaw and coaxing him to relax. “All yours now, yeah? No one else's.”

His eyes searched your face, anger melting into scalding desire. “Say it again,” he rasped.

“All yours,” you hummed, pecking his lips.

His hand spread across your collarbones, long fingers stretching nearly shoulder to shoulder, and he shoved you roughly back onto the bed. The next moment, his mouth was on your chest, hot and warm through the thin lace as he smeared open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His tongue lashed one peaked nipple, drawing a cry from your lips as he sucked the bud and fabric between his teeth.

Your hands flew into his hair, tugging and guiding his mouth where you wanted him, and he went willingly, eager for any and all contact, quick to repeat the tricks that made your breath hitch.

His hand slid down your stomach, beneath he waist band of your shorts, and he dragged his middle finger through your dripping slit, a high-pitched moaning making him smile against your chest.

“Merlin, you're soaked,” he purred, kissing up your neck and capturing your lips in a messy, top-lip kiss. His finger swirled around your puffy clit, applying just enough pressure to have pleasure radiating through your body. “You get this wet for him, baby?” He whispered, dipping his fingertips into your entrance, once, twice, before sinking down to the knuckle. “Little cunt sucking me right in. She was ready for me, hm?”

“G-George,” his name was a fractured whimper on your tongue, your mind going fuzzy when he curled his finger up, hitting a spot that you'd never felt before.

“Oh, you poor thing,” George cooed, adding a second finger and stroking the same spot again, your whole body hitching up the bed at the intensity of it. But his body weight held you down, his mouth painting gentle kisses along your skin to try and soothe you. “He never touch you like this? Never found that spot—fuck, right there, baby? That's it?”

You bobbled your head like an idiot, grinding your hips back into his hand as he started fucking his fingers into you more deliberately, the lewd, gooey smack of your pussy filling the dorm.

“Good girl,” he praised, propping himself up to peer down at you, eyes blown wide with lust as he took in your trembling, sweat-kissed skin. “How did I get so fucking lucky?” He asked, leaning down to kiss you again, all softness and affection, so different than the relentless way he was dominating your cunt.

You pawed at his jeans, tugging at his belt. “Mmph, please—need you,” you whined against his mouth, and he groaned.

“Fuck, you're killing me, love,” he grated, his hips bucking into your hand. “You want my cock that bad?”

You nodded, still struggling with his belt.

He pushed off of you and undid his belt, removing his jeans and shoes in record time, his flushed cock slapping up against his stomach. He grabbed you by the ankle and tugged you to the edge of the bed.

“You've got a slutty little thong under here, don't you?” He asked, toying with the waistband of your shorts.

“Maybe,” you said, half-distracted by his cock jumping at the sound of your voice, the tip slick with precum.

He glanced down, following your gaze, and chuckled. “My eyes are up here, pretty girl,” he chastised with a light slap to your inner thigh. He pushed your shorts down your legs, followed by the red thong your wore underneath. He tossed the thong onto his bedside table, instead of the floor with the rest of the clothes.

You raised an eyebrow at him, about to make some teasing remark, when he dragged his cockhead through your messy slit, and all thoughts tumbled right out of your brain, dripping from between your legs.

“For later, yeah?” He said, smirking when your eyes rolled back when he tapped your clit with the head. “So next time I see that fucker, I can show him exactly what he lost.”

“George—” you started to chastise him for being cruel when he notched at your entrance, sinking halfway into your willing pussy, and you both cried out. The fullness, the stretch, was mind-melting. Better than anything you'd felt in your life.

George braced his hand beside your head, sagging forward as he hissed a curse under his breath. “Fucking shit, love,” he panted, his muscles locked up so tight he was practically vibrating. “M'done for if you keep squeezin’ me like that.”

You moaned, lifting your hips to take him a little deeper, needing more even though you felt like he was ripping you apart at the seams. “Please, Georgie,” you whimpered, clawing at his skin. “Want all of you.”

“I know, honey. I know. Just give me a second.” He leaned further down, peppering kisses across your cheeks and jaw. “Don't wanna hurt you, gotta relax f’me.”

You took a few breaths, trying to get your muscles to relax as his lips moved over your fevered skin. You felt him slide a bit deeper, the stretch not quite as intense.

“Good girl, that's it. Just a little further,” he praised, his hand gripping the flesh of your hip as he started rocking into you, slow, rolling thrusts that got incrementally longer each time, until his pelvis met yours and you were a moaning mess, writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

George straightened, his hand on the bed shifting to your shoulder, and he snapped his hips forward, forcing a cry from your lips as pleasure struck you like lightning. He set a rough pace, fucking you deep and hard, his grip on your body keeping you locked in place.

You were lost in it, helpless to the pitch and roll of his ocean, completely adrift in the pleasure he was pulling from your body. You tried to fuck back against him, but your body refused to cooperate, dumb and boneless and cockdrunk.

“So fucking pretty like this. Tell me how pretty you are, baby,” he said, his hand leaving your hip to rub tight circles over your clit.

“Mmph—fuck, so pretty,” you managed, voice throttled with lust and desperation.

“Yeah, you are.” He grinned. “My pretty girl takin’ this cock so well. He fuck you like this? Have you a drooling mess for him?”

You shook your head, nails biting into his thighs as your release prowled closer, coiling tight in your belly. “No, never,” you keened, when ratcheted up the pace sensing your looming orgasm.

“That's right, all mine. Who does this pussy belong to? Who has your heart?”

“You, you! Fuck, George, I’m—”

“Go on, love. Come for me, I'm right there with you. Come on.” His thrusts grew rougher and sloppier as his own release approached, and with a final, punishing snap of his hips, you both went flying over the edge and into white hot bliss.

You screamed and he caught the sound with a kiss, fucked you through it as your pussy clamped around him. Wringing every bit of pleasure from you both until he sagged forward, his head falling into the crook of your neck as you both gasped for breath.

He kissed along the damp column of your throat, making his way to your lips, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your trembling thighs. “Did so good,” he murmured between lazy pecks. “I'm proud of you.”

You giggled, feeling almost giddy to have George in your arms, kissing you and praising you so sweetly. “That was amazing,” you breathed, and he smiled, giving one last thrust before withdrawing and using magic to clean you both up.

“You were amazing,” he corrected. “Like I said, you're easy to love.”

Butterflies rioted in your stomach. “So are you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your forehead before handing you your hoodie and shorts. You both got semi-dressed and snuggled into his bed, his bare chest under your ear, heart thumping steadily.

You grabbed the gift bag and took out the bracelet. “Will you put it on me?”

“Of course,” he beamed, carefully taking the the jewelry and clasping it around your wrist, kissing the tender skin of your pulse before releasing you. “Looks perfect on you,” he said, looking down at your smiling face as you turned your wrist this way and that.

“I love it, Georgie. Thank you.” You snuggled closer into his side.

“Always.” He dropped a kiss on top of your head, then grabbed the gift back from you, pulling out a handful of candy and popping one of the lollipops into his mouth. “Not as sweet as your pussy, but…”

You rolled your eyes and placed a chocolate truffle on your tongue, letting the deliciousness fill your mouth.

Bang! There was a fumbling outside of the door and George quickly yanked the curtain shut, just before what sounded like several people came tumbling into the room.

“Get the fuck off of me, Weasley—” Jack.

“Absolutely not, you're going to apologize,” Fred replied, his voice a little too chipper for the current situation.

George was up in a blink, his chest littered with the marks you gave you him, and pushed through the curtain. “Well, well. Seems you aren't dead, or maimed…so what exactly is your excuse for standing up my girl on Valentine's Day?” George asked.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you, I—your girl?” Jack hissed. “She's mine.”

George chuckled. “Love, would you like to come out here and set the record straight?”

“What?” Jack barked. “She's not here—”

You slipped out of bed and tried to right yourself before stepping out of the curtain and into the room. Fred and Lee had Jack by arms, dressed only in his boxers. Harry and Ron stood off to the side, watching everything unfold with mild amusement.

George was leaning against the bed frame, lollipop in his cheek, a triumphant smirk on his face.

“We're done, Jack,” you said, getting it over with. But strangely, you didn't feel any of the guilt from before. And you shouldn't. Jack was a prick, and didn't deserve your tears or empathy.

“I miss one date and you shack up with fucking Weasley?” Jack spit, and George's eyes darkened. “Fucking whore—”

Fred and Lee shook him roughly, yelling at him to watch his mouth, and you recoiled a bit. George seemed to stay surprisingly calm, until you saw him reach from his Beater bat beside the bed.

“George, wait—”

George jabbed the tip of the bat into Jack's sternum, and the boy went pale. “If I hear you running your fucking mouth about her again, I will smash your jaw to splinters. Clear?”

Your heart lost its rhythm. You'd never seen George like this, and you loved it. Loved being his.

Jack bobbed his head yes, trembling in Fred and Lee's hold.

Lee snickered. “Prick looks like he might piss himself.”

“Now get the fuck out,” George ordered.

“Wait, one more thing,” you said, and the boys all turned their attention to you. You sauntered up to Jack, and you saw a flicker of hope in his eyes.

Fucking idiot.

You thrust your knee up, nailing him right in the bollocks, and he howled so loud the other boys dropped him into a heap on the floor.

“Fuck you,” you spit, turning on your heel and stepping into George's open arms.

“That's my girl,” George cooed, taking the lollipop of his mouth to kiss you properly, the strawberry flavor sweet on his tongue. He waved at the others over your head as he deepened the kiss, and you heard them all file out, laughing and jeering as they dragged Jack behind them, the door swinging shut and locking.

“He deserved it,” you mumbled between kisses, giggling when George lifted you into the air, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“And now it's time you get what you deserve,” he smirked, laying you back down on the mattress and shifting down between your legs. “And I get my reward for absolutely crushing Valentine's Day.”

You burst out laughing, the sound shifting to moan as he licked a stripe through your slit. “You're right, best Valentine's Day ever.”

[honeyed-blossom]

Happy Valentines 🌸

I hope everyone has a lovely valentines!! 💌 sending you all my love and a million smooches 😘 please enjoy these two being all gushy and icky hehe

instead of packing for my trip like a sane person, I wrote a little something to go with the drawing if you’d like to read it 🫣

his valentine

Word count: 775

Golden rays danced through the lush foliage carelessly, illuminating the forest with an otherworldly glow. Sunbeams frolicked down the gently beaten path, inviting the boy further in. Even the shadows glided by absentmindedly, as if the world existed without a single care. How she found this place he didn’t know.

Sebastian remembered her calling it a vivarium, describing it as a sanctuary for the beasts she and Poppy rescued over the last year. There were different types of vivariums - one was a languid stretch along a coast, another was a quiet swamp, and she had four of these in total. This one was a vast meadow, scattered with caves and forests, where nifflers, puffeskins, and jabberknolls frocklicked peacefully. It was the embodiment of summer in the highlands, always sunny and temperate. It was her favorite hideaway.

He walked further into the grove, keeping his eyes out for the girl who was somehow able to send his heart into a fit of flutters and drive him insane at the same time. She would be the death of him one day, not that he’d mind.

A soft humming caught his attention, a tune he didn’t recognize. The tune was playful, whimsical even. She was in a good mood it seemed. Sebastian smiled to himself and drifted towards the sounds, careful to hide the large bouquet behind him. He travelled all over the Scottish Highlands to find an assortment of different flowers, the ones he knew she loved. Some, he had to beg Professor Garlick for, though she was more than happy to help once she found out who it was for. Roses, sunflowers, lavender, and jasmine peeked out from layers of jute and ribbons.

Sebastian stopped where the trees ended and the meadow began, hiding in the shadows as he looked for his counterpart. It took less than thirty seconds to spot her - she stood across the way in a creamy cotton dress, letting her mind wander while she watched a pair of jabberknolls glide jovially. She swayed gracefully as she hummed, with her hands clasped behind her back. Basked in sunlight, she looked ethereal. Her usual blush-toned hair now looked like honey, dripping in hues of caramel and gold. He desperately wanted to comb through her locks and leave a trail of kisses, watching as a blush crept up her cheeks.

What are you waiting for, you idiot?

This wasn’t last year, when all he could do was stare longingly at his friend and keep his feelings tightly locked up for fear of rejection. They had now been together for a few months already and Sebastian felt foolish for still being so flustered around her. It was as if any time he was around her, or even thought about her, his brain cells threatened mutiny, combusting into nothingness and leaving him utterly defenseless.

“Valeria!” Sebastian finally called out, stepping out of the shadows and into the blinding light. “There you are.”

Almost immediately, she turned around to face him, her cheeks a soft peachy blush. Her eyes practically sparkled when she saw him and he felt as though he was staring at a nebula of greens, golds, and browns. His breath hitched as a radiant smile spread across her lips.

“Sebastian! There you are,” she chirped and glided towards him. As she got close, she threw her arms around his neck into a hug. Sebastian’s right arm snaked around her waist, squeezing her into him. He watched as her nose crinkled slightly, delighted when she picked up the scents of the flowers.

He grinned and pecked her cheek. “Here, I have a present for you.” He gingerly pulled a flower from the bouquet he was hiding and gently tucked it behind her ear, along with some loose strands of pink tresses. His hand lingered, hesitating to break contact with her. Just as Sebastian started to draw back, Valeria wrapped her long fingers around his hand, pulling it back to rest against her cheek. She closed her eyes and leaned against his hand, sighing happily.

Sebastian could wait no longer. He gently cupped her cheek and leaned in, tilting his face slightly as he captured her lips with his. He’d kissed her plenty of times before but this one was different and sent his heart soaring. It was sweet like honeycrisp and warm like sunshine. Before he even knew it, he had melted into her, his arms wrapped around her frame with bouquet still in hand. He shivered as she deepened the kiss, pressing her fingers against his curly locks. Sebastian pulled her right against him, clutching her waist desperately as they kissed. And kissed.

And kissed.

[lavender-butterfly-cookie]

TA DA, my next masterpiece y/n as a belly dancer, I never seen anyone make this au of them so here's one. It's with the theme for burning spice and golden cheese.

In a fanfic how would they reacted to this along with the other beasts cookies and the gang.

Golden Cheese cookie and Burning Spice cookie are fighting ruthlessly as their friends (Followers) watch from the sides. Y/N is also watching, but she's unamused and bored.

Golden Cheese cookie: MINE! They are MY dancer! Gtet away you insufferable brute!

Burning Spice cookie: They were mine first! Or need I remind you of who's power you hold?! Come at me dumb bird!

Y/N cookie: Ugh... Their arguing combined with the heat wears me out quicker. I need a break from this.

Mozzarella cookie: You could always go to the kingdom?

Y/N cookie: Which one? Cuz as far as I know, I live in two.

Nutmeg Tiger cookie: Obviously you should return to ours-

Smoked Cheese cookie: Fat chance, your spice storms are too harsh for them-

Nutmeg Tiger cookie: And you castle is too bright, we even!

Y/N cookie: Hm... I think I'll just do the responsible thing.

Burning Spice cookie and Golden Cheese cookie stop fighting for a moment and all cookies look at Y/N, anticipating their next choice.

Y/N cookie: I'm going to my siblings house.

All: WHAT?!

Golden Cheese cookie: B-but- why?!

Burning Spice cookie: You shouldn't leave! I have yet to pound this bird to the ground!

Golden Cheese cookie: Why you insolent-

Y/N cookie: That's why.

Both: Huh?

Y/N cookie: The heat, the arguing, it's all so draining. I've grown used to it, yes, but even I need a break. 3 days. 3 days and I'll return. Got it?

All the cookies glance at each other before glancing at Golden Cheese cookie and Burning Spice cookie. The two glare at each other, than cross their arms and sigh as they quickly avert their gaze once more.

Both: *Mumbling* Fine.

And that settled it. The next day, Y/N cookie was off to live at their siblings place. Even though it'd only be for 3 days, there was a whole farewell thing where the cookies granted them luck. After a long day of travelling, they made it. They walked up to the door and knocked. Soon it opened and Original Y/N greeted them.

Original: Hey Belly Dancer Y/N. Wait- why are you-

BD Y/N: I'll explain later, can I come in? I just travel a heck of a long way just to get here.

Original Y/N: And how exactly did you make it in a day?

BD Y/N: I realized half way that I had some magic dust from the kulfi's in the pocket. I teleported here after having a hell of a break down for realizing what an idiot I am.

Original: Well... uh... You know what, just come in.

The next day the house sounded like it was bustling with activity, causing BD Y/N to wake up. They leave the room to see the Twin Y/N's arguing with Military Y/N and 350 Kilos Y/N. Original Y/N is trying to be the voice of reason, but to no avail. Realizing how similar it was here than when they were in the desert, BD Y/N decided it was better if they excused themselves from the house.

Whilst outside, BD Y/N lounged in the hammock. Always dancing, always in heat, always hearing argument. This quiet atmosphere was a nice change of pace. But just as they were relaxing-

BD Y/N: Gya?!-

A ball hits them straight in the face, causing them to spin around in the hammock in a twist before ultimately falling off and face first into the dirt. They bring their head u with an upset expression displayed on their face before their eyes land on the ball. As they get up, they hear voices approaching.

Gingerbrave: OMG- I'M SO SORRY!

Strawberry cookie: A-are you ok?!

Wizard cookie: It was an accident!

BD Y/N looks up at the three- no, five cookies approaching. One of them goes to their side and helps them up before brushing of their shoulder nonchalantly.

Chili Pepper cookie: Eh, you'll be fine. A little bit of ball and dirt never hurt anybody- gah?!-

Custard cookie iii: *Hits her in the side with his scepter* You can't just say that! We're super sorry!

Strawberry cookie: Are you hurt?

BD Y/N needs a moment to look at them. 4 kids and one teen. Despite their original displeasure, they could see that they really meant no harm. B/D Y/N puts on a soft smile and shakes her head.

BD Y/N: No no, I'm not hurt. And it's ok, it was an accident after all.

The kids: Phew.

Gingerbrave: Say, who are you? We've never seen you around before.

BD Y/N: Oh, right, my mistake. I'm Belly Dancer Y/N. I usually reside in the desert, but I'm staying here for the next three days.

They all exchange glances before the barrage of questions comes crashing into BD Y/N faster than they can react. They're faced with several more questions before eventually Original Y/N comes outside to assist her a bit. The day goes by in a flash and soon it's night time, mean BD Y/N can finally rest.

Unfortunately, "rest" isn't something any Y/N can do, aside from tired Y/N. Their short slumber is cut off soon as she wakes u to the sounds of air rushing past them. Before they can react, a vortex of sorts extracts them from their bed and brings them to another place, one which they're partially familiar with.

Shadow Milk cookie: Ah! there we go! All in one piece. Sleep well fellow performer?

BD Y/N: I- How'd-

Mystic Flour cookie: Questions for later.

BD Y/N: Why am I here.

Eternal Sugar cookie: well *yawns* Burning whatever his name is asked us- *yawns* to look after you.

BD Y/N: Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh of course he did. And where's the quiet one?

Shadow Milk cookie: Beats me. But I suppose we should keep ourselves busy until you return to our spicy fellow, hm?

BD Y/N: Ugh, I just wanna rest! Is that too much to ask for?!

Eternal Sugar cookie: Omg, relatable.

BD Y/N: You know what? Screw it! I'M GOING HOME!

Mystic Flour cookie: And where would that be?

BD Y/N: ANYWHERE BUT HERE!!!

They walk off in a huff. After long hours of walking, they made it to beast yeast somehow, remembering they still had the kulfi dust. Without even greeting their companions, they walked of to a tomb, got in, closed it and slept in hopes that maybe the others will think they're dead and leave them alone.

[blond3ang3l]

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

“There it is pretty. Daddy found your spot didn’t he?” Your headed nodded in response to the condescending tone of the much older man.

Butcher was by far your favorite client of the strip club you worked at. He always came in looking so damn good. Tipped you really well too! Always leaving you a thousand dollars minimum a night when he came. He was your regular for the past few months and that man treated you way better than your boyfriend did.

It was obvious how badly the older man craved you, and you were just teasing him every time he saw you walking around in those skimpy costumes. He would deal with you whine and complain on how mean your boyfriend was all the time. In his eyes your boyfriend was an idiot for not realizing what he had in front of him.

But none of that mattered when you shook your ass for him at the end of the day. You had his ass mesmerized every single time no matter what. He never followed the no touching rule for clients, always grabbing and slapping your ass. Hell he even pulled you on to his lap for a lap dance more times than you can count. His hands stayed on you. But there had been a few instances of them being a little bit wandering while you danced for him. Who were you to deny the man though? He was sexy and gave you money like it was nothing so no point of complaining.

You weren’t supposed to be doing this. You could get in trouble if your boss caught you getting fucked dumb in one of the private rooms, but the way Butcher was stretching you out made you forget ll of that. His hands griped your ass helping you bounce on his thick dick. Your lipstick was all over his face from you kissing and clinging to him.

His hand grabbed your face pulling you into a messy kiss. Barely even a kiss since you were moaning and whining against his lips the entire time. With your nails digging into his shoulders he let out a deep grunt before pulling away. You were too perfect, a better fuck than anyone he's ever been with before.

His hand pushed the little mini skirt you wore up and out of the way. He turned you around and lifted your chubby frame up like it was nothing, basically folding you in half its your knees pushed up your chest before he started fucking into you once more. With your back to his chest your head lulled back as he took control. “Daddy.” Was all you could whine out while the man fucked any sense you had out of your head.

“I know many. Your lil boyfriend don’t give you this type of of fucking does he?" Your head shook giving the man the answer he already figured. With the way you were squeezing him he wasn't shocked in the slightest. "More. Please 'm so close daddy." Your words practically made his eyes roll back. Hearing how desperate you were for him only made him pick up his pace. He grunted as he felt your grip on him tighten as you came, his hips slowing down before cumming deep inside you.

As far as he was concerned you were all his. Your "boyfriend" and job was going to be easy to get rid of. No way was he gonna lose his favorite little stripper. He would just have to make you into his own personal doll. And with how you were clinging to him at that moment it seems that won't be hard for him at all.

⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱♱⋰⋱♱⋰ ⋱✮⋰ ⋱⋰

[blackkatdraws2]

The narrator and the ugly ahh protagonist [Blank Scripts AU/non-canonical]

[tommygotwrittenoff]

the fact that eddie and maddie have never interacted outside a group setting is so funny actually. you cannot tell me those two wouldnt get on like a house on fire. i fear the day we get a solo maddie and eddie scene is the day we get buddie canon

[solxamber]

And I Choose...

In which you pick the dorm you want to join

Part 1: Choose Us

Heartslabyul

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d be willingly moving into Heartslabyul, but here you were, standing at the entrance with your bags (and Grim, who was loudly complaining about the lack of a tuna fountain).

Riddle was the first to greet you, looking as composed as ever. “Welcome to Heartslabyul,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was formal, but the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed his excitement. “I trust you’ll follow the rules properly now that you’re part of this dorm.”

Before you could respond, Trey appeared beside him, looking far more relaxed. “We’re glad to have you here,” he said with a warm smile. “I already saved you a slice of cake—figured you’d need a snack after all the chaos today.”

Bless this man. Truly.

“Say cheese!”

You barely had time to process Cater’s voice before you were blinded by the flash of his phone. “Oh my Sevens, the new dormie vibe is immaculate! This is totally going on Magicam!” He snapped another selfie, this time pulling you into the frame. “And guess what? I’m using my clones to make moving day a breeze! You’re welcome!”

True to his word, Cater’s clones were already grabbing your stuff. You stared in disbelief as three Cater clones carried a single small bag together while laughing like they were in a cheesy sitcom. Efficiency clearly wasn’t their strong suit, but at least they were trying.

And then there was Ace and Deuce. The moment you’d announced your decision to join Heartslabyul, the duo had erupted into what could only be described as the most uncoordinated, chaotic victory dance you’d ever seen.

Deuce was spinning in circles like he was trying to summon a tornado, while Ace alternated between bad breakdancing and finger guns pointed at no one in particular. “We won! We won!” they chanted, completely ignoring the way Riddle’s eye was twitching in disapproval.

“You know,” you said, watching them make absolute fools of themselves, “I think I made the right choice.”

Grim snorted from his perch on one of your bags. “You’re surrounded by idiots, henchhuman.”

“Maybe,” you said with a grin. “But they’re my idiots.”

Savanaclaw

The moment you announced that you’d chosen Savanaclaw, chaos erupted.

Jack’s tail started wagging so hard it was like a propeller trying to take off. You half-expected him to lift into the air. “You won’t regret it,” he said, his usually calm voice brimming with excitement. “We’ll make sure you feel at home here.”

Ruggie wasted no time grabbing you in a headlock and giving you the noogie of a lifetime. “I knew you’d make the smart choice! You, me, and all this bribe cash—donuts for a whole year, easy! You’re officially part of the Savanaclaw hustle now!”

“Ruggie, I swear, if you ruin my hair—”

But the true shocker was Leona. At first, he played it cool, lounging lazily in his chair like your decision was no big deal. “Hmph, took you long enough,” he said, voice dripping with fake indifference. But then, as if he couldn’t help himself, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug grin.

And that’s when he pulled out his phone.

“Leona, what are you doing?” you asked, watching as he sidled up to you with the confidence of a king.

“Taking a picture. Gotta rub this in a little.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a selfie of the two of you. Then, with the smoothness of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, he took another.

One went to Vil. The other went to Malleus.

The captions?

To Vil: "Looks like I win. Stay beautiful, princess."

To Malleus: "Better luck next time, lizard."

You groaned, face burning. “Leona, was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smirking like the cat who caught the canary. “Welcome to the pack, herbivore.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Savanaclaw wasn’t such a bad choice after all.

Octavinelle

The second you announced you were choosing Octavinelle, chaos descended faster than you could say “Mostro Lounge.”

Floyd let out an earsplitting cheer and, before you could blink, scooped you up and tossed you into the air like a beach ball.

“Shriiiimpy’s ours now!” he cackled, catching you before launching you up again like he was testing the room's ceiling height.

“Floyd, please!” you yelled, your life flashing before your eyes as you flailed. “I don’t wanna meet the Great Seven this soon!”

Eventually, Jade stepped in, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Now, now, Floyd. Let’s not accidentally lose our new dormmate to an untimely accident. We wouldn’t want to scare them away before they’ve even unpacked.”

Floyd, grumbling, set you down but kept a firm arm around your shoulders, as if daring you to second-guess your decision.

Jade, meanwhile, adjusted his gloves with a serene smile that somehow felt a little too sharp. “Welcome to Octavinelle,” he said smoothly. “It’s wonderful to have you with us. I assure you, you’ll be treated with the utmost care here.” He looked way too pleased with himself, his gaze lingering like he was already planning your initiation.

Then there was Azul.

Azul looked like he’d just won a billion Madol jackpot. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to break into a little dance right there in the lounge. But then, with Herculean effort, he composed himself, clasping his hands and clearing his throat.

“Well, this is certainly a wise choice,” he said, adjusting his glasses like he hadn’t just been doing mental cartwheels. “I’m honored you’ve decided to join Octavinelle. We’ll make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

But then… he slid a very familiar-looking contract across the counter.

“Of course,” Azul added with a dazzling smile, “just a small formality. You see, this document simply guarantees that you’ll remain a proud Octavinelle student until graduation—oh, and a few other things.”

You stared at the contract hoping it might spontaneously combust. “Azul. I literally just joined. Can I have a minute to breathe before I sign my soul away?”

“No rush, no rush!” Azul said, not looking remotely deterred. “Take your time. But, ah—do keep in mind that signing sooner ensures the best possible benefits…”

As Jade handed you a drink (which you were very suspicious of) and Floyd draped himself over you, already talking about all the “fun” you’d have together, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made a deal with the devil.

Still, as Azul's smug smile softened into something almost genuine, you decided it wasn’t the worst deal in the world.

Scarabia

The moment you announced your decision, Kalim was on you like a whirlwind.

“YOU CHOSE SCARABIA!!” he yelled, tackling you into a hug so tight you thought you might pop like a balloon. Before you could even gasp for air, he was spinning you around the common room like you were some kind of trophy he’d just won.

“This is AMAZING! We’re gonna have so much fun! Parties! Feasts! Adventures! You’re gonna love it here!” Kalim babbled, his infectious excitement making it hard to even feel dizzy despite the rapid spinning.

“Kalim,” you wheezed, clutching his shoulders, “please put me down before my life flashes before my eyes.”

“Oh, right!” he said, gently setting you down with a sheepish laugh. “I got carried away. I’m just so happy!”

As you tried to steady yourself, a much calmer—but no less relieved—voice spoke from behind Kalim.

“I’m glad you chose Scarabia,” Jamil said, his expression carefully composed, though you could see the faintest hint of relief in his eyes.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes,” Jamil replied, crossing his arms and glancing away like he didn’t want to elaborate. But after a beat, he sighed and added, “You’re one of the few people here who keeps things balanced. With you around, maybe I’ll have a chance to stay sane.”

Your heart melted a little at his quiet admission, even as Kalim jumped in again, declaring he’d throw a party that night to celebrate your move.

“Let’s get food! Music! Oh, we should decorate your room! Jamil, can we hang up those golden lanterns I found last week? And—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose but unable to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips, “one thing at a time. Let them breathe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic, feeling a warm sense of belonging already. Scarabia might be a lot, but it felt like home.

Pomefiore

The second you announced your decision, Epel let out a laugh so sinister it would’ve sent chills down a villain’s spine. “HA! TAKE THAT, EVERYONE ELSE!” he shouted, whipping out his phone to snap a selfie with you.

Of course, Rook popped into the frame with perfect timing, striking an overly dramatic pose as Epel sent the picture straight to the first-year chat. “VICTORY IS OURS!” was the only caption needed.

Before you could even blink, Rook had swooped in, bowing theatrically. “Ah, mon cher, your choice has blessed us with the most magnifique triumph! Let us celebrate with a dance!”

You barely had time to protest before he twirled you around the room like you were in some period drama. His excitement was so contagious you almost didn’t notice when he dipped you dramatically—until you felt yourself tipping back, only to be caught by Vil.

“Honestly, Rook,” Vil sighed, steadying you with all the grace in the world. “Do try not to give them whiplash their first day.”

He turned to you, his usual poised demeanor firmly in place, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings. “Welcome to Pomefiore,” he said, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve made the right decision.”

You were about to respond when Vil, ever the perfectionist, immediately began fussing over your uniform. “Honestly, you can’t be seen like this. Your tie is uneven, and—Rook, stop standing there and help them adjust their collar properly!”

As Vil worked, meticulously fixing every little detail, you couldn’t help but notice the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He might’ve been playing it cool, but there was no hiding how pleased he was to have you here.

Epel and Rook, meanwhile, had started arguing about who deserved the credit for your choice, while Vil made it very clear that it was his influence that sealed the deal.

And just like that, your chaotic new life in Pomefiore began.

Ignihyde

The moment the words “I’m choosing Ignihyde” left your mouth, Idia froze like someone had yanked his power cord out. His hair flickered erratically, and for a second, you thought he might actually pass out.

“Big Brother? Big Brother!” Ortho shook him frantically, his mechanical arms making a soft whirring sound. “Stay with us! They chose us! You can’t glitch out now!”

Idia finally snapped back to reality, though his face was still pale, his hair sputtering like a dying neon sign. “W-Wait, what?! You…chose here? Are you serious? This isn’t like, a prank, right? Did Ortho bribe you?!”

“No pranks, no bribes. I chose Ignihyde,” you said, trying not to laugh at his genuine bewilderment.

He blinked rapidly, processing your words. “B-But the PowerPoint… I thought it was way too cringe. I mean, I had like, fifty slides about food optimization! Who’d find that interesting?! You were supposed to be like, ‘Ew, no thanks,’ and leave!”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of cute,” you admitted, watching as his hair flared a bright pink.

“C-CUTE?! AAHH, STOP, YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” He clutched his hoodie like his heart was going to short-circuit.

“Big Brother, calm down!” Ortho interjected, practically beaming. “They chose us! Isn’t this the best thing ever?”

Idia rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. “…So, uh, do you wanna, like…celebrate or something? I-I mean, I know you probably have better things to do, b-but if you wanna…play a game or something, that’d be cool.”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

Ortho let out an excited cheer and zipped over to hug you tightly, his arms surprisingly warm. “Welcome to Ignihyde! I’m so happy you’re here! This is gonna be the best!”

As Ortho buzzed around you, already listing off all the things you could do together, you caught Idia sneaking a shy glance your way. His hair was still flickering pink, and he looked like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You weren’t sure what life in Ignihyde would bring, but if it meant seeing Idia like this—flustered, happy, and maybe a little hopeful—you knew you’d made the right choice.

Diasomnia

The moment you announced you’d chosen Diasomnia, Sebek practically burst into flames.

“OF COURSE YOU CHOSE DIASOMNIA!” he boomed, puffing up with pride. “It’s the only logical choice! With the Young Master here, there was no other dorm worthy of your presence!”

Silver chuckled softly at Sebek’s theatrics, stepping forward with a kind smile. “Welcome to Diasomnia. I’m glad you’re joining us. Let me know if you need help moving your things—I’ll be happy to assist.”

Before you could respond, Lilia appeared out of thin air, laughing like a mischievous ghost. “Ah, welcome, welcome! We’ve been expecting you…or at least, I have. Let me go fetch Malleus so he can hear the good news himself!” And with that, he vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you blinking at the empty spot he’d occupied seconds before.

Malleus arrived moments later, his towering presence filling the room. His emerald eyes softened as they landed on you. “I heard you’ve made your decision. Have you truly chosen Diasomnia as your dorm?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I chose Diasomnia.”

The way his face lit up was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His usual composed demeanor melted into something warmer, brighter. He almost looked…giddy.

“This pleases me greatly,” he said, his voice rumbling with quiet joy. “Come. I’ll give you a proper tour of our dorm.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer before he gently ushered you forward, beginning the grand tour of Diasomnia. Lilia popped in and out of nowhere as you walked, adding bizarre and entirely unnecessary facts.

“And over there,” Lilia said, gesturing to a decorative suit of armor, “is what I wore when I once tripped and almost spilled soup on Malleus when he was a child. Ah, good times.”

Malleus sighed but didn’t stop him. “This area is the library. Feel free to browse the shelves at your leisure. I can show you my favorite tomes later.”

“And this hallway is where Sebek shouted for the first time when he thought Malleus was missing! Nearly shattered all the windows,” Lilia added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the whole thing feeling so surreal yet oddly comforting. Silver walked quietly beside you, throwing in the occasional useful tidbit, while Sebek followed behind, grumbling something about Lilia not taking the tour seriously.

By the time the tour ended, you felt strangely at home. The eccentricity, the warmth, the oddly familial atmosphere—it all wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Malleus turned to you, his expression soft but sincere. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll personally see to it.”

Lilia smirked. “Safe and well-fed. I’ll whip up something special to celebrate!”

“Please don’t,” Sebek muttered, but you just laughed, already feeling like you belonged.

Secret ending: Ramshackle

When you finally dragged yourself back to Ramshackle, you were met with Grim, lounging on the couch like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Well, henchhuman? Which dorm are we moving to? I hope you picked the one with the best tuna," he yawned, tail flicking lazily.

You slumped down next to him, groaning. "None of them."

Grim's ears perked up. "Huh? What do ya mean, none of them?!"

"I told Crowley to just fix the worst parts of this place. I’d rather stay here. Everyone’s so excited for me to join their dorm—I don’t wanna disappoint them."

Grim blinked at you, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. "Eh, as long as you're still my henchhuman, I don’t care. Besides, this place has character! And by character, I mean it’s haunted, but still."

The next day, Crowley gathered the staff and shared your decision with them. You’d half-expected him to brush off his promise, but to your utter shock, the teachers actually…pitched in.

Vargas showed up first, flexing dramatically. "Alright! Time to show these walls the power of my biceps! I’ll have this place sturdy in no time!" He started hammering away, though you were slightly concerned when he tried to patch a hole in the ceiling using a workout bench.

Trein followed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "This building is a historical relic, and it deserves proper restoration." He brought Lucius along, who mostly supervised by napping in different corners.

Crewel arrived next, snapping his gloves on. "We’re not half-assing this. Ramshackle is getting a full makeover. And you’re going to help, pup. Start scrubbing those floors. Chop, chop!"

Even Sam surprised you by popping up with a toolbox and a grin. "Can’t have my favorite customer living in a death trap, can I? Plus, a little investment in the neighborhood never hurts business!"

The repairs were chaotic but effective. You spent days dodging Vargas’ overly enthusiastic demolition attempts, enduring Trein’s lectures on historical preservation, and running errands for Crewel while he barked orders like you were a rookie in boot camp.

By the end of it, Ramshackle was almost unrecognizable. The roof no longer leaked, the walls were sturdy, and the floors didn’t creak like a ghost was stalking you (though you were pretty sure the ghosts were still there, just quieter).

Grim looked around, nodding in approval. "Not bad, huh? Maybe this place isn’t such a dump anymore."

You smiled, patting his head. "Yeah, it’s still home."

And as you settled back into your slightly less ramshackle life, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Sure, your dorm might not have been the flashiest or fanciest, but it was yours. And that was more than enough.

Masterlist

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[wingyattium]

*+ᵎᵎ 🍊⋅ ˚✮ — 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 | 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲.

+ᵎᵎ 𝐬𝐲𝐧: it’s holiday season at the burrow again, and mrs. weasley is concocting the most delicious-smelling dinner — but fred is hungry for something a little sweeter.

+ᵎᵎ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭: approx 2.4k (i got carried away), 18+, smut, fem!reader, afab!reader, established relationship, some fluffy stuff, reader wears a skirt, oral/cunnilingus + fingering, needy!fred, service!fred, simp!fred, he’s obsessed w/ you okay (can you blame him?), pet names (love, doll, baby), bathroom oral sex, hold the moan, cum eating, dirty talk/language, i think that’s all pls lmk if you see something!

+ᵎᵎ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: aaaaaah thank you so much for the response on my last post!! it means so much!! thank you so much for reading and i hope you enjoy! much love and tiny tits, leah 💕💋

holidays at the borrow were always lively and cluttered — the family had extended past just the ginger members, adopting the likes of hermione, harry, and, of course, yourself. so many bodies tucked into a space not quite fit for the numbers.

so getting to the bathroom that evening proved to be a great task that required shouldering past adults and narrowly avoiding screaming children just to get to the staircase; which your bladder was ecstatic to find was barren.

you could still hear the chatter from downstairs as you closed the door and relieved yourself, the scent of pumpkin pie and delicious roast slipping through the bottom of the door a motivator to quickly clean yourself up and trod back down.

but when you opened the door, your hips were immediately gripped and you were pulled flush into a hard body — you tried to exclaim, but soft, cold lips pressed against yours and halted the sound.

you recognized them instantly, and you had no hesitation in popping your lips open when a hot tongue teased the seam. you even released a small, breathy moan when it slid across yours, lighting your skin up immediately.

you only allowed a few seconds of lip smacking before you pulled away; fred groaned unhappily but let you do so, blue eyes dancing when you looked into them.

“a ‘hello’ could have sufficed,” you teased, lips still burning from the phantom weight of his. fred’s brows met his hairline and he scoffed.

“oh, so my brand of greeting is unsatisfactory?” he demanded coyly, and you rolled your eyes.

“well, i didn’t say that,” you murmured as you wrapped your hands around his neck, lacing your fingers together against his nape. “but we are kind of standing above your family right now.”

fred glanced down briefly then met your eyes again with a dopey grin. “silly me, i thought we were standing on the floor.”

“idiot.” you whispered fondly, leaning up to slot your lips with his; it was chaste, but it still had your stomach erupting with butterflies — something fred somehow managed to do often.

“what can i say? i missed you.” fred murmured against your mouth, fingers tightening on your hips. you laughed lightly.

“it’s only been a little over a week.” you reminded him as you pulled away again, though deep down, you mirrored the sentiment. even an hour away from fred felt like too long, your soul and body aching more with every second that ticked by.

“that’s like, what — a decade in dog years?” fred teased, eyes mirthful and lips pulled into a small smirk. your eyes fell to them immediately, a sort of heat roiling in your gut.

“not quite,” you quipped back distractedly, eyes still glued to his lips. you already missed the taste of them.

as if reading your mind, fred leaned down and sealed his mouth against yours, lips coaxing yours into a slightly wet dance. his tongue teased at the seam, asking for entrance, for the permission to deepen it — and despite the fact that the two of you were very much still standing in the middle of the hallway, you granted it to him.

fred groaned as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. it was wet, hot, and a little sloppy — a weeks worth of pure need and want puppeteering his every movement when he slipped a hand up to cup the back of your head.

a shrill, excited shriek from the floor below ripped you back to the present before you could get lost in the fog that was creeping into your brain, and you pushed at fred’s chest.

“fred, we should get back down there,” you whispered, attempting to pull yourself from his tight grip. fred thinned his lips in a faux expression of consideration, then sent you a sly grin.

“nah, i’ve got a better idea.”

before you could question him fred corralled you into the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him and turning the lock with a soft click.

“fred—!” you gasped out indignantly, though you didn’t complain or resist when he easily lifted you up onto the counter and slotted himself between your thighs.

fred held your gaze for a few seconds, large hands resting against your hips, breath ghosting over your face when he murmured, “is this okay?”

you swallowed and bit your lip; part of you was screaming ‘hell no!’ — and the other part, the much larger and much louder part, roared ‘fuck yes!’

desire is a very strong and hot fire, capable of burning away any inhibitions and doubts, no matter how pressing they were. so, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to you when you leaned up and slotted your lips to fred’s in lieu of a verbal answer.

fred immediately melted into you and groaned, the sound vibrating your lips and pulling out a soft mewl from you in response.

fred pressed closer to you, heat blooming against your clothed cunt from the pressure of his bulge straining through his jeans; you’d barely done anything and he was so hard, so ready to simply pound you into oblivion. gods, that sounded absolutely wonderful.

“we have to be quick,” you mumbled breathlessly, receiving a small grumble in assent from fred.

you couldn’t help but feel as though he sounded a bit distracted and aloof, and you wondered if he even actually understood the situation the two of you were in.

or the pure mortification you’d undoubtedly experience should you get caught — it had all probably been shoved from his head by heady want.

“fred—,” you uttered, a bit more urgently, but fred cut you off with a small ‘shh.’

“i heard you love,” fred mumbled before you could reprimand him, lips sliding from yours to kiss along your jaw. “i’ll make it quick; i promise. then you can get back to my mum and your riveting debate about the many benefits of silk yarn.”

there was a tease in his voice, one that had you flushing; so he had heard your conversation with molly. he must have been eavesdropping.

“that’s a — hah, fuck, — nasty habit, fredrick.” you chided, soft pants leaving your lips as fred trailed kisses down your neck. when he reached your pulse point he suckled and licked, and hot electricity skirted over your skin.

fuck, you’d missed being so close and intimate with him. you were already starting to drool from below.

“yeah? i have a lot of those, apparently,” fred bit back playfully, his long, cool fingers skimming the hem of your thick shirt. your skin was heating so rapidly you started to feel as if you were in a sauna — that’s just the effect he had on you, you supposed.

fred pulled away from your neck and pressed his lips to yours chastely; but then your heart skipped a beat when he dropped down to his knees, now eye level with your covered cunt. his hands slid from your hips to rest atop your thighs, and his eyes were dark when he flicked his gaze up to meet yours.

“you’ve been teasing me all day, doll.” he rumbled, thumbs drawing gentle circles into your flesh. you scrunched your brows.

“what—? how?” you whispered, confusion briefly slicing through the haze of horniness — but then fred fingered the hem of your skirt, and you understood.

“this damn skirt, baby. looks way too good on you.” fred said hotly, pressing his lips to your inner thigh. you trembled and your cunt pulsed, breath hitched and a bit short.

fred chuckled against your skin, well too versed in the effect he had on you. kisses peppered your thigh as fred worked his way up, each inch of space covered raising your blood level and pulling more ooze from your pussy.

“bloody hell, i jus’ wanna taste you.” fred groaned, rucking your skirt up almost impatiently. when your panties were exposed to him he drew in a sharp breath. “merlin, doll. you’re soaked.”

your hips rocked forward when fred slid a finger up your clothed cunt, and you whined lowly. you needed him, and quick.

“shh, doll. i won’t tease you. lift up a bit.” fred gently ushered, gripping your panties and sliding them down your thighs slowly when you lifted them — cool air blew against your clit and pulled a soft sound from you.

“so pretty, love. all wet f’me.” fred cooed, fingerpad splitting open your folds and gathering the sticky slick there. you gasped and muttered, “thought you weren’t going to tease me,” a bit petulantly.

“couldn’t help it, baby. you’re so cute like this.” fred rumbled, but otherwise kept to his word; he shouldered your thighs open further and nuzzled into your cunt, tongue quickly replacing his finger between your folds.

you let out a small, whimper-y gasp when fred lapped up your slit, tongue hot and wet and incredibly insistent when it lapped over your clit.

“shit,” you mewled, hand shooting down to card through his hair. “fuck, fred, please — we gotta be fast.”

the house was still lively downstairs, a constant reminder of the situation you were in, and there was a tiny pebble of fear cast into the rushing river of arousal; you didn’t want to get caught.

“it’s okay, i’ve got you.” fred reassured, voice husky and rolling, slick sounds floating up from between your legs as he flicked his tongue over your clit quickly.

your back arched from the assault to the sensitive bundle, fingers subconsciously tightening within ginger strands. fred let out a deep, rumbling moan against your cunt at the stimulation, serving to only stir you up more.

“taste s’good,” fred moaned, tongue dipping down briefly to lick up your slick before returning to your clit. your legs were already shaking, toes curling in and gut tightening. fred was too fucking good with his tongue.

“holy fuck, fred,” you whined out, cheeks heated from everything — the hot air in the bathroom, fred’s tongue against your clit, the slick slurping sounds of being devoured — it was so sloppy and filthy, everything you could have wanted.

everything you needed and loved.

fred hummed against you and you could hear the smirk in his voice when he mumbled, “feel good, love? my tongue’s makin’ you feel good, isn’t it?”

the only response you could muster was a flustered moan; it was certainly a rhetorical question. you were a moaning, whimpering mess, and your cunt was producing oozy slick faster than fred could lick it up — how good you felt shouldn’t even be an inquiry.

it did feel absolutely wonderful, but you doubted you could cum quick from it; and as if reading your thoughts, fred prodded at your soaked pussy with two fingers.

they slid knuckle deep into your walls easily, aided by spit and slick, and fred was quick to set a fast rhythm — the one that would make you cum quick.

it was a deadly combination; that wicked tongue and those long fingers working your pussy over so deliciously, the schlurps and slick smacks of fred’s lips as he licked and suckled your clit, the thrill of doing such a lewd thing when you could get caught by anyone, at anytime —

“fred,” you gasped out as he curled his fingers up, fucking them into that mushy spot inside you over and over, making you clench your legs around his shoulders in pleasure. that coil was tightening to an almost painful degree, your orgasm practically being yanked out of your body by fred’s skilled movements.

“cum, doll. i know you’re about to, so don’t hold back.” fred crooned between sloppy licks, fingerfucking you even faster — it wasn’t even a question of if you were going to cum, only when; and when happened to be after two solid pumps and three quick licks.

“fuuuuck, don’t stop— ‘m coming!” you whined as that coil snapped, sticky, slick fluid oozing from your cunt and coating fred’s chin and fingers. you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking into his face as you rode out the waves, body crackling with electricity and satisfaction.

fred groaned deeply as he lapped at your pulsing cunt, swallowing down your cum as if he were dehydrated — he was mumbling the whole time, praising you, your taste, your beauty; it certainly wasn’t helping with those waves pulling at your body.

“fred,” you mumbled, pushing at his head weakly. he’d stopped pumping his fingers, but in his attempt to lap up all your essence, he was throwing you into overstimulation — and had the two of you not been locked in a bathroom right above his family, you would have liked to see just how far he could push your body before you broke.

but the circumstances didn’t support that kind of lewd curiosity.

fred let you push his head away and pulled his fingers from your fluttering walls slowly, mindful of your current state. “‘m sorry, dove.” he mumbled as he rose to his feet, chin and lips shiny from a culmination of your slick and his spit. it was erogenous and somewhat embarrassing.

your clit was still throbbing with a second heartbeat, the waves of pleasure calmer but still present, and you were quite thankful for fred’s offered assistance with slipping down from the counter.

sliding your panties up proved to be a little difficult considering the weakness in your legs, but with fred’s help you were able to get them up fairly easily (and quickly.)

“we should probably get back down there, yeah?” fred suggested as if he hadn’t been the one who practically cornered you into oral sex. you scowled playfully and nodded.

“yes, just as I suggested ten minutes ago.” you retorted, earning a scoff from fred.

“more like two minutes ago. it didn’t take me eight minutes to make you cum, thank you very much.”

“no, it only took you eight minutes to get between my legs and prove your mouth is useful for more than just jesting.” you quipped as you straightened yourself out.

fred opened his mouth to retort, but you’d successfully landed the last word in the verbal scuffle when molly’s voice rang out, “dinner’s almost ready!”

you sent fred a flirty wink as you unlocked the door and slipped out, ordering him to wait a few minutes before coming down as to deflect any suspicion.

you just barely caught his mirthful utterance of “little vixen,” before you traipsed down the stairs, highly satisfied and praying that it didn’t show to everyone else in the weasley residence.

[sonolynn]

Forbidden Fruit

summary | Jace didn't want her, but Aemond did.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags | 18+ MDNI, Jealously, Aemond yearning, explicit sexual content, mentions of bastards, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, size kink (?), oral f!receiving, Angst if you squint. "Technical" infidelity but is it really if Jace started it? (yes). ooc!Aemond (probably). NOT PROOF READ (its one am, leave me alone).

w.c | 3.8k

note(s) | My first smut fic!! Ah I'm scared...I also think I have a problem with making Aemond want fem!reader when he rightfully can't have her. Also I swear I'm not a Jace hater!! I love Jace, but in this fic specifically I made him long and wish for Baela.

____________________________________________

“Why don’t you marry her then?” 

Aegon’s voice was taunting, as if pushing Aemond to say something. Aemond stared down at the cup in front of him; even with a stoic expression, his mannerisms betrayed him. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup, he picked at the skin around his nails on the opposite hand-all the tell tale signs of thinking, a mind that cannot be stopped. 

“Because she is betrothed to Rhaenyra’s bastard.” His voice dripped with malice as he spoke. Aemond hated that Jacerys would inherit the throne enough; What his bastard nephew didn’t need was the girl Aemond had wished for his entire life. Ever since the two of them were children Aemond had a…weird infatuation with her. When he was a boy, he would pick flowers from the garden and he would purposely do good deeds for her, just to have her hug him or smile graciously at him. 

But now, everything was different. She was a woman grown, and him a man grown. She was to be engaged to his bastard nephew, and he would have to sit and watch as they shared a kiss, held hands, smiled and danced as newlyweds. He’d have to hold a straight face as the two of them left to Jacerys’ bed chamber, only knowing the connotations that came with what would happen on their wedding night. 

Ignoring his brother's tedious rants about hells knows what, Aemond stood from his chair, opting for a walk in the gardens.

____________________________________________

Aemond walked, hands clasped behind his back, and his gaze drifted into nothingness as he walked with just his thoughts, and the cool breeze that accompanied the summer evenings. He tried to distract himself from the thoughts of her, for they were all almost too painful to ever truly think about. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He thought of her as a sickness, one that lingered and grew stronger by the day until it fully consumed your every waking moment. He thought of her laugh just as contagious as the plague, her eyes as intoxicating as the finest of wines. He thought her to be a type of sickness, and he so desperately wanted to be affected. 

Aemond was never one to smile-one to truly-smile, his half smirks or half smiles were only ever in a sarcastic sense, but for some reason his smiles were real with her. With her he laughed a little more, with her he walked a little faster. He knew it was stupid, perhaps perpetually idiotic-to ever think, let alone long for such a pure and innocent creature. 

As Aemond walked, he noticed her sitting by one of the fountains in the garden. She looked breathtaking, he thought to himself. Her hair was down and cascaded down her shoulders, her face was just the perfect amount of shaded with the moon's light. And above all, she held that intoxicating smile that she always held. He never knew why she was always smiling, nor did he wish to find out. 

She turned her head, her smile widening at the sight of Aemond. 

“Aemond!” Her voice was cheerful, slowly standing as he walked towards her. 

“Princess,” Aemond smiled-a half smile-at her as he looked around, then slowly back at her. “It’s quite late. Should you not be in your chambers?” 

She always thought the way he cared for her, even if he didn’t show it outright, was extremely enticing. She knew how he was with others, but she knew the differences he had with almost everyone in court-so what made her so different? Why her, the object of the second son's affection. 

“Perhaps I do not wish to sleep. Perhaps…I quite like the quietness of the garden.” She smiled innocently, looking back towards the fountain as she started to walk. Aemond knew her well enough to see that this was a quiet plea for him to join her; Because no matter how much she enjoyed the quietness of the garden, she enjoyed it much more when he was with her. 

Aemond stared at her, as he often did, but this time, it was different. The stare he held was nothing short of primal. He watched the light in her eyes as she smiled up at him and for some reason, now, he wished to watch as the innocent light in her eyes slowly dwindled as he claimed her. 

“Aemond? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped his thoughts back, if only for a moment. She stopped walking to look up at him and she crossed her arms underneath her chest. His eye trailed down slowly, fixating on the way that her cleavage just slightly out of her dress. He was like a man starved; Clinging to the littlest of details that would make his imagination run wild. 

She seemed to notice the way that his eye raked over her chest like a starving man, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She-though subconsciously-reached up to place her arm over her chest, but to her surprise, Aemond gently took her hand, and when she looked up, his one sapphire eye was locked with hers. 

“You needn’t cover up. Not around me.” He spoke calmly, though his heart was racing and his head spinning. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered her hand and looked into her eyes. 

She watched him carefully, searching his gaze for anything that would betray him. In truth she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she felt as if she should be searching for something. 

Aemond lifted a hand, placing the back of his knuckles against her hot cheek. The gesture was gentle, and slow, something he was not known for. His eye slowly trailed down her face, and his eye caught on her lips, his breath heavy as he reached his hand up and gently placed his thumb over her plush bottom lip. 

Her eyes followed his, big, and full of longing. She stared at him as his thumb pushed against her lip. She didn’t know exactly what to do; She knew that this moment was intimate, far too intimate to be happening between a betrothed woman and a bachelor. But, the way he gazed at her made her feel hot, and the way he trailed his hand over her face and body made her want to see where this could lead. 

His free hand shakily went up to her waist, cupping it firmly as he brought her closer. He leaned forward, just slightly, till his nose was pressed against hers. Her breath hitched, and her eyes instinctively closed. She waited for him to press his lips against hers, to feel his mouth on hers like she had (shamefully) always wished for. But, it never came. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aemond breathing heavily, desperately trying to restrain himself. He pulled away slightly, and he shook his head,

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you…not like this.” Though his words held conviction, it seemed his body betrayed him. His hand stayed on her waist, slowly trailing up and cupping her breast in his hand. She gasped softly at the feeling, and his thumb went to her lip again before he connected his lips to hers. She responded immediately, putting her hands on his arms. 

He kissed her like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled her flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup her face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have her closer. He opened his mouth, causing her to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Her mouth moved with his as if it was known to her; As if this was a dance she had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of her lips was a song that Aemond had mastered just for her. 

She practically melted in his arms. She had been kissed before; Jace was a good kisser but he was soft, and the kisses were never not chaste. But, kissing Aemond was like walking through fire. Her entire body reacted to the way he clung to her body, how he pulled her impossibly closer. It was like a fire had escaped through his lips and was now coursing through her veins and settling in her abdomen. 

Even though she didn’t know exactly what to do, it seemed her body did. Her hands slid down his arms and slowly made their way to his chest as she moaned softly. 

The moan grounded him, like he had been falling from the heavens and down to earth. He suddenly pulled away, breathless as he stared down at her. Her eyes opened steadily, and she looked up at him with confusion while a frown graced her kiss swollen lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke breathlessly, his hand still gently stroking her side. 

“Maybe not..but it felt good.” Gods, the way she spoke held him in a chokehold. He wished desperately to dive back into her; To drown in her lips and never come up for air, but.. 

“Not again. You are to be married.” He suddenly pulled away and at the feeling of his hands leaving her body, she frowned deeper. 

“Aemond-” “Goodnight, Princess.” 

And with that, the prince turned and rushed back into the keep. 

____________________________________________

Aemond couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, picking at his nails, biting his lip-genuinely anything to help stop the incessant thoughts of her lips. 

The thoughts started off sweet and innocent. The way she looked up at him as he trailed his thumb over her lip, the way her lips pursed just slightly when he leaned forward. 

But then the thoughts got venereal fast. He thought about how he felt to finally kiss her. The way his lips practically burned when they pulled away. He knew that as he gazed at her kiss swollen lips his night would be harbored with thoughts of what they’d look like doing gods knows what else. 

His hand slid down underneath the sheets, firmly grasping at his length as he let out a shuddering breath. He hated doing this; Feeling so pent up and so desperate that he had to resort to using himself. But as of right now he couldn’t care less. 

He imagined her lips around his cock, her innocent eyes gazing up into his. He’d imagine the way she’d gag around him, how her lips would look kissing the head of his cock. 

He groaned at the thought, his head tipping back as he closed his eye and let his thoughts wander more. He’d think about how she’d look with his seed covering her lips and her chin, how she’d moan his name as he devoured her between her legs-

He peaked with a gasp, and a low moan of her name. The minute his orgasm washed over him, and he started to slowly come down, he felt an intense feeling of guilt, shame, but most of all pain. 

Guilt and shame because he hated himself for touching himself to someone who couldn’t be his. 

Pain because she’d never be his. Pain because he knew that no matter what he did, she’d still be betrothed to Jacerys. 

____________________________________________

The next morning, she sat alone at breakfast, supposedly liking it more that way. With her fiance practically ignoring her, and her father too entranced with kissing the king's ass, she learned to enjoy the solitude of just…nothing. 

Plus, she always had her thoughts. Even if they were only occupied with Aemond. 

She played around with the food on her plate as her mind trailed. She remembered the way he kissed her, how he held her. She felt happy, something she so rarely felt with Jacerys. 

She knew how he felt, how he longed for and wished for Baela. She did not blame him, she was beautiful, but she also didn’t feel sad, which, at a point did bother her but, not so much. 

At least, not after last night. 

She smiled to herself as she thought about the kiss, wishing that he would do it again, longing for the way the heat escalated through her body. 

She didn’t register the voice next to her until it spoke her name. 

She looked up, surprised. But, when her eyes met with Aemond’s, her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled. 

“Aemond.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“What?” “You’re not eating.” “Oh,” Her cheeks flushed red for a reason unbeknownst to her, and with a soft huff, she pushed the plate away, “It seems as though I have lost my appetite.” 

Aemond looked concerned at that, and he looked down at her. Despite himself, he found himself worrying yet again for her comfort, her needs. 

“Is something the matter?” She shakes her head, but for some reason, Aemond was persistent. “If this is about what happened last night, then I should apologize-” 

“Apologize?” She interrupted, sitting up straighter at the mention of the word. “Why?” 

“Yes…apologize. Because we should not have done that-”

“But I wanted it to happen.” 

Aemomd stopped and he slowly looked towards her. His eye pierced into hers as if to read every thought and emotion that crossed her brain. He just simply couldn’t believe her. 

“You shouldn’t say things you do not mean, Princess.”

“You don’t know that I don’t mean it.”

“Princess-”

“Aemond.” She said his name as if to challenge him, and he knew that he truly could never challenge her. He saw it in her eyes, he saw by the way she looked at him and smiled that she wished for him just as he wished for her. But these feelings-these blockages-would only cause unnecessary trouble. 

“Please, do not give me a hope that cannot be upheld.” Her heart broke a little at that, and, as he stood to leave, she instinctively stood with him, taking his wrist in her hand as she pulled on his arm. As if the small gesture would stop him from walking, (it did). 

“Aemond please..You do not know what I wish for.” 

His lip curled down into a small frown as he looked at her. He knew what she felt-at least he thought he did-but even if his suspicions were right, even if she did wish for him like how he longed for her, he couldn’t. He may dislike, perhaps even hate his nephew, but he was better than stealing his fiance. 

Right?

“We cannot. To be with you would disgrace your family and the alliance-” 

“Fuck the alliance!” She swore, her eyes boring into his as she studied his face. “Fuck the alliances Aemond, I wish for you. Desperately, I wish for you. Jace does not see me like how you do. Jace does not make me feel the way that you do-”

“It does not matter if Jace makes you happy or if he makes you feel desired-” “He does not wish for me as you do!”

“Princess-” “You do not understand! We are speaking of breaking it off. Neither of us wish for this.” Aemond went quiet at this and he sighed heavily, turning his full body towards her. He pried his arm away from her, staring at her incredulously, his body language giving no open window to how he was truly feeling. With no words coming from him, she continued. 

“I love you.” At those words Aemond showed his shock. He took a step back from her and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You do not mean-”

“Oh for the love of-Yes! I mean it! I love you, Aemond! I love you as if it is breathing! Instinctively, not thinking about it….I love you.” 

Aemond couldn’t hold it anymore, he walked to her and gripped her face tightly, her cheeks squishing slightly in his grasp as he smashed his lips against hers. She initially was shocked at the sudden kiss, but she kissed him back fiercely, holding his wrists as she leaned up to kiss him deeper. 

He led her back until he pressed her back against the table, holding her thighs as he pushed her onto the table. His body fit perfectly in between her thighs, just like he imagined it would. His hands gripped her thighs, one of his hands traveling up, feeling and savoring the soft skin as he groaned. 

She pulled away from the kiss to leave small kisses along his jaw. He bit his lip at the feeling, the action presumably so innocent and so sweet it almost made him chuckle. 

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and lust filled as his hand trailed underneath her breasts. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demanded. His head was spinning with the lust that clouded it. He waited for her to push him away, or to whimper a soft “I do not think myself ready”- But she shook her head, bringing his head back to hers swiftly to connect their lips in another passionate kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning to himself as he left hot, open mouthed kisses against her jaw and neck. He looked down, his breath heavy as he stared down into her cleavage. He wished for nothing more than to rip her dress open and kiss every inch of her body, but being in the dining room came with its disadvantages. So, he settled for kissing her cleavage, before trailing his lips down the fabric of her dress till he came to her thighs.

Aemond pushed her dress up as far as he could, staring at her the whole time. He slowly pushed her thighs about, giving her time to stop him but she never did. Gently kissing the inner side of her thigh, he tried to reassure her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes; The way she looked at him with both anxiety and lust. He stared up at her searching for any sign or signal that would make him stop. 

“Is this okay?” Once he saw the light nod of her head, he disappeared underneath her dress. 

She had never been intimate with a man-courtesy of her father, enforcing the “Women should be pure” melodramatic speech into her head ever since she could stand. She always thought it to be a chore, only having heard stories from unhappy married women who hated their husbands, and much less disliked their children a little less, but this? This was exciting, this felt good. 

She placed a hand on his head, moaning his name under her breath as he ate her like a beast. His hands gripped her thighs as if to ground himself-He had tasted women before but for some reason she was so much sweeter, so much more divine. His eyes practically rolled back just from pushing his tongue into her heat, sucking gently on her flit before he pulled away slightly, focusing his attention on her clit as he dipped a finger inside of her. 

The sudden stretch made her jump, and gasp loudly. She may have pleasured herself before but it really never felt like what Aemond was doing to her. He eased his finger in slowly, dragging it back out, and then slowly pushing it back in. Hearing the moans that graced her lips, he continued the slow thrust of his finger for a moment before he added another one. 

She let out a loud moan, a hand on the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to her heat. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure. She moaned loudly, perhaps too loudly for comfort, but Aemond only seemed to want more of those noises to come from her. 

He slowly curled his fingers, his mouth praising her clit. The added pressure with the curl of his fingers, and the sucking of her clit made her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Oh gods Aemond, I’m going to-” Just as her orgasm was going to consume her, it stopped. With her heavy breathing, and slightly shaky legs, she slowly sat up. Aemond smirked up at her, holding her gaze as he nipped at her inner thighs. “You stopped..” 

“Yes. Because if you are going to peak it should be on my cock.” 

Her face flushed at the words, and she stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled his trousers down slightly to free his throbbing cock. As their eyes met, he seemed to notice the slight anxiety in her eyes, because he pressed his forehead against hers and lined himself up with her entrance. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” She nodded in response, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he pushed into her. She let out a gasp; The feeling was new, discomfiting but..new. Her face scrunched up at the stretch, and Aemond shushed her quietly as he started to move. After a few thrusts, her body relaxed, and she started to moan his name. 

Hearing his name fall from her lips was like a prayer answered, like a lifelong dream he had been waiting for. He grunted as he started to rock his hips back and forth into her slowly. It took everything inside of him to not pound into her, to fuck her like he had fantized about. He wished that her father could see her now, her maidenhood gone and her body fully submitting to the pleasure he so gracefully gave her. 

“Aemond..Aemond oh gods-” Her voice broke as he went faster, her moans only getting louder. She tried to wrap her mind around the pleasure he was giving her, the way his hips moved slowly yet deeply, the way the tip of his thick cock rubbed against the spot so deliciously. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she held him close to her. 

One of his hands was on her thigh, the other on the table as he thrusted into her, as if holding the edge of the table would stop the creaking sounds, or the way she moaned his name, or how his groans got louder as his climax approached. 

White splattered her vision as her orgasm washed over. She cried out his name in pleasure, holding him close as his legs trapped him inside of her. The feeling of her core pulsating and tightening made Aemond’s head spin, and he grunted out a moan of her name as he came himself, spilling his seed inside of her. 

As the two sat there, basking in the afterglow of being intimate, neither of them would move for what felt like hours. Even though the position that they were in was compromising, they smiled, and laughed softly at the situation itself. 

Once they both got cleaned up-the best they could get cleaned up for just having sex on the dining room table-Aemond took her hand. She smiled softly at Aemond, her heart racing in a new, and exciting way. The two stared at each other for a while, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that now, they could truly be together, or at least, now, they had a hope that they could be together.

____________________________________________

[my-castles-crumbling]

baby - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 355

"Regulus doesn't get embarrassed," Sirius argues, rolling his eyes as he sips his drink. "It's infuriating. As his sibling, it's my job to embarrass him, but he just gets all...huffy and disappointed."

"Well, you are rather disappointing, acting like an idiot," Regulus drawls from his spot on the other side of the loose circle of friends, sending Sirius a smirk.

"But it's inhuman! I mean, I've tried everything! Embarrassing childhood stories, yelling at you in front of a crowd, sex jokes, everything!" Sirius whines, leaning into Remus's side dramatically.

"It's true," Barty nods emphatically. "I don't think I've ever once seen him blush. Even that time I gave him a lap dance during breakfast! It's like he's made of stone or something." He grins for a moment, "Or maybe he liked it."

"I certainly didn't like that," Regulus snorts. "I just didn't care. You were the one being obnoxious, not me. I'm not going to be embarrassed by your antics, that's your job."

But James decides he needs to set the record straight. Because Regulus certainly does blush. "I'm sorry, but Regulus blushes all the time!" he says loudly, grinning at bit as everyone looks at him.

"James," Regulus hisses, immediately frowning, looking like he wants to kill him. "No, I do not."

Sirius, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "Oh? What gets Ickle Reggie to blush, then?"

And, spurred on by the challenge, James crawls slowly over to Regulus, who is giving him a death glare, and leans to whisper in his ear, making sure to speak so quietly nobody can hear him.

"Hi, baby," he murmurs lowly, allowing his breath to tickle Regulus's skin. "You look gorgeous today."

The effect of the pet name is instantaneous. Immediately, Regulus turns bright red and lets out a little noise, stammering as he looks down to the floor. James laughs as he pulls back, grinning triumphantly, and Sirius yells out, "What did you say to him?"

But he'll never tell. "Nothing," James grins, already heading back to where he was sitting, enjoying the fact that he's the only one that can make Regulus Black blush.

[retrosabers]

𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

FICMAS DAY 3: GIFT-GIVING

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: as bucky’s secret santa, you’re determined to give him the best christmas present he’s ever received.

contains: grumpy buck fluff, some angst, idiots who are crushing hard, swearing

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this is a long one i’m apologizing in advance

i am SO SORRY for crickets in the ficmas department the past week, i hit a big brick wall with this and i’ve been so all over the place with my own holiday planning and such that i ended up having to cut the masterlist in half because i knew i couldn’t get it all done. i’m very sorry to anyone who was looking forward to what got scrapped, but i couldn’t bring myself to rush through writing and put out something i don’t believe it my best work.

also, do people even want avengers fix it fics anymore?? i debated between the “everything is fine the team lives at the compound together” vibe and setting this post tfatws, but ultimately decided the former was easier to write. and i think it worked in my favor because this turned out really cute :)

!! divider by @strangergraphics !!

FICMAS MASTERLIST

your heart feels like it’s going to burst out of your chest.

who’s idea was this again? wanda? tony? steve? it didn’t matter anymore. all that mattered right now was that you didn’t pass out in the elevator. a feat that was becoming more and more difficult the closer you got to your destination.

a secret santa is supposed to bring you joy, not near paralyzing anxiety.

at first, you were 100% on board with participating in a gift exchange. as much as you wanted to shower all of your teammates with presents galore, not everyone shared the same sentiment, and thus the idea of a secret santa was proposed.

excitement courses through your veins as you reach your hand into the cheap santa hat tony grabbed from god knows where in storage, with little pieces of paper containing the names of your fellow avengers. you decided to wait until you were back in the privacy of your room to open it up, afraid of any wandering eyes taking a peak. the last thing you wanted was the element of surprise to be stripped away. it was half the fun after all.

as sam pulls the last name, you quietly excuse yourself and all but rush upstairs, too eager to get in the holiday spirit and brainstorm. as soon as the door shuts behind you, you hurriedly reveal the contents of the paper.

if it’s natasha, i can get her a pair of ballet slippers. she’s been mentioning how she wants to start dancing again.

what about bruce? maybe a journal for all his ideas? he always seems to be losing sticky notes in the lab.

a million different ideas swirl around in your head, reminding you just how much joy this time of year brings. to you, there was nothing better than seeing the gleeful looks on people’s faces when they opened their gifts. the corners of your mouth turn up at the memory of your first christmas with the team. how shy and reluctant you were, afraid of going overboard. now, a few years later, you’re completely unabashed in showing just how much you care about them.

your bright smile morphs into a deep frown as you unfold the paper.

bucky barnes.

quite possibly the most difficult person you could’ve chosen.

to be clear, there’s nothing wrong with bucky. he may be a bit grumpy and standoffish, but it’s with good reason and you know it. that also doesn’t change the fact that he’s going to be impossible to try and shop for.

what do you get for the man who seemingly despises anything the modern world has to offer? the same man who you’re 99% sure hates your guts. come to think of it, how did you even pull him? he most definitely wasn’t downstairs 20 minutes ago when everyone scribbled down their names and tossed them in tony’s direction.

it was irrelevant now. you were stuck being his secret santa, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give james buchanan barnes the best christmas gift he’s ever gotten in his century-long lifetime.

the two weeks it took to come up with an idea sure felt like a century. if it wasn’t for the concerning amount of snooping you did, you’d probably be showing up empty handed. thankfully, at almost 1 in the morning on a random tuesday, a lightbulb went off in your brain. you scrambled bright and early the next day to go shopping, and by some lucky form of divine intervention, you acquired the perfect gift.

flash forward to now, and you’re carrying an insanely large box up to bucky’s room. in a blatant stray from what the rest of the team was doing, you decided to give him his present one on one, secluded from everyone else. partly because you were afraid of public embarrassment if he hated it, and partly because you knew bucky wasn’t very fond of being put on display.

you hope he’ll at least be grateful for that.

when the elevator finally chimes, signaling you’ve arrived at the dormitory floor, the box nearly slips from your grasp. not just from how heavy it was, but from the nervous sweat coating your palms.

the hallway is quiet enough to hear a pin drop, save for the faint sound of christmas music playing over the speakers. with careful, calculated steps, you make your way down the length of the corridor, dragging your feet the closer you get to bucky’s room. there’s a small part of you that hopes he’s downstairs in the gym, the kitchen, the backyard, anywhere but here. dropping and dashing wasn’t what you had in mind, but the anxious thumping of your heart was becoming unbearable. you know it will only amplify tenfold if you’re forced to stare into those steel blue eyes of his. the thought alone sends a chill down your spine.

you freeze in place when you hear the sound of a door knob clicking open.

please be wanda’s room, please be wanda’s room.

in front of you, the very last door on the left creaks open, revealing the tall and brooding super soldier whose company you were aiming to avoid.

it’s easy to forget how handsome bucky barnes is when he normally does nothing but grimace in your direction.

you still weren’t used to his new haircut, but it was clear he felt significantly more confident with it. is that a hint of aftershave, or cologne? whatever it was, the scent fit him perfectly; cedarwood with a hint of spice. the green henley he wears fits snugly against his broad frame, emphasizing all the muscles you’ve been caught staring at on more than one occasion. for once, he’s not wearing a scowl, though that changes when he catches sight of you.

surely you must look strange, standing dumbfounded in the middle of the hall with a box covered in santa-printed wrapping paper and a big bow that you can barely hold. right now the floor opening up and swallowing you whole was at the top of your wish list. and st. nick better make it quick.

bucky’s expression shifts from one of disdain to curiosity as he quirks a brow wordlessly. your own knit together in frustration, knowing you now had no choice but to do this exchange face to face.

“need any help?” he questions monotonously. as much as you want to be prideful and reject it, your arms feel like they’re going to fall off any second. he seems to catch your drift despite a verbal response, because in the blink of an eye he’s striding towards you, sweeping the gift from your arms and into his own with ease. you try not to gape at the way his biceps strain against fabric.

you stutter out a “thanks,” as you straighten out your sweater. bucky grunts in return and eyes the package in his hands cautiously. you’re half expecting him to shake it like a child when you catch the tiniest twitch of his upper lip.

it’s the closest thing to a smile he’s ever shown in your presence. something that gives you the courage to actually form a sentence instead of continuing to gawk at him.

here goes nothing.

“this is for you, actually,” you manage to shakily breathe out. bucky halts his observations, a glimmer of surprise briefly dancing across his face.

a beat of silence passes between you. “don’t remember asking for anything," he finally says. it’s still laced with his typical dry sarcasm, but there’s a legitimate amusement in his tone that can’t be missed.

you narrow your eyes at him playfully, feeling a little bit more at ease now that he didn’t completely rebuff you.

“i’m your secret santa, smartass,” you jab with your hands on your hips.

for the first time ever, bucky smirks at you.

“don’t recall asking for that either.”

you throw your hands up in defense, offering him a surprisingly nonchalant shrug. “don’t blame me, i’m pretty sure steve was the one who put your name in.”

“punk,” the man grumbles. he shakes his head, attention turning back to the present in hand once more.

despite his apparent annoyance, you can’t seem to stop yourself from continuing on.

“i know you’re supposed to do this kind of thing with everyone around,” you start off shaky, afraid of upsetting him any more than you may already have. his gaze immediately falls to you upon hearing your voice.

“i also know you’re not a big fan of being the center of attention,” you continue, shoving your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “figured you’d like this better if it was in private.”

bucky’s features soften. his jaw unclenched, his eyes not so narrow and judgmental. he looks relieved, flattered; a myriad of things you can’t name or place.

“i appreciate that,” he admits, suddenly shy and impish. for a second, he completely forgets about the gift you brought. the simple fact that you were kind enough to consider his feelings, despite how cold he could be to you, makes his heart skip a beat.

you simply nod your head in reply, teetering back and forth on your feet awkwardly trying to decipher your next move.

“you don’t have to open that right now you know.”

he sets the box down on the floor next to his door. “kinda defeats the purpose don’t you think?”

you shrug. “whatever you’re comfortable with. doesn’t matter what you’re “supposed to do.””

why did you care so much about his comfort level? he hardly showed any concern for yours. the notion consumes his thoughts, prohibiting him from offering anything except a nod of acknowledgement.

that awkward silence comes once again, signaling maybe you’ve overstayed your welcome, or that the moment of peace is over. you check your watch in hopes that father time was ending this exchange for you.

just your luck, he’s right on schedule.

“i uh, better get downstairs,” you announce, pointing your thumb in the direction of the elevator. “don’t wanna miss thor forcing everyone to do christmas karaoke.”

a noise akin to laughter snorts out of bucky’s nose, evoking a delightful warmth in your chest. it was different than all the other times you’ve been flustered in the presence of the super soldier. this was less about intimidation and more about…camaraderie. now wondering if maybe he doesn’t hate you as much as you thought.

it’s exactly what you need to reignite your holiday cheer and shed any remaining worries.

before you can second guess, you turn on your heels, closing the gap between your bodies. wrapping a hand around his arm, his metal arm, and offering a gentle caress, the sincerity in your words is clear as day.

“merry christmas buck.”

your touch burns straight through vibranium all the way to his chest. across his entire body, igniting every cell ablaze. a fire consuming him in ways unimaginable.

and yet. he enjoyed the burn.

as you pull away, much to his dismay, the tips of his fingers brush against the inside of your wrist. goosebumps errupt on your skin, from the cool metal, or that fact that bucky was so pretty this close, only time would tell.

“you too,” he murmurs with a faint grin. the soft crinkles by his eyes are likely going to be the subject of your daydreams for the next week.

you flash him a smile over your shoulder before turning down the hall and averting his gaze, not wanting him to see just how much you were blushing.

while unbeknownst to you, bucky was now a very bright shade of red.

he waits until he can hear the elevator doors close before slipping back into his room and very carefully unwrapping the box. there’s a nervousness in his stomach that’s unfamiliar, but not unpleasant. as the bare brown packaging becomes exposed, he begins ripping back the numerous layers of packing tape. you really took your time on this, he thinks to himself.

that funny feeling only amplifies when he sees the contents of the box.

a record player, a very expensive looking one at that, sits inside with another three wrapped items that he concludes are vinyls, judging from their flatness. on top of it all, there was a small note shrouded in luxe stationary. bucky’s heart stutters when he sees his name scribbled delicately in your handwriting.

his fingers falter briefly before he digs into the envelope.

i know this isn’t like the ones from the 40s, but it’s the closest thing i could find. also got a few of your favorite records, and one i think you’ll like too. don’t forget i have quite a collection of my own in case you ever want to try something new.

merry christmas ♡

bucky unceremoniously plops down on the edge of his bed. the normally stiff feeling mattress now mirrored a sea of clouds and feathers. he’d gladly sink into the abyss of softness, if it meant pumping the brakes on his thundering heartbeat.

from the moment he met you, bucky knew he was in trouble.

you had an aura about you that was magnetic, always drawing people in and bathing them in your light. your unconditional kindness and consideration, hell, even your mere presence in a room seemed to liven it up entirely. it was a hypnotizing, almost dangerous thing for the man, and if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was to push people away. for their sake, and his. bucky was certain that once he started keeping his distance, that you’d eventually give up in trying to crack his tough outer shell, or that the silly feelings he had would disappear.

but right now, as he’s staring at your handwriting and rubbing his thumb repeatedly over that little heart, he knows it was all in vain.

later that night, he stares up at the ceiling, listening to the familiar croon of it’s been a long, long time wafting from his present. he tries to focus on the beauty of the song, or the lights he can see from his window twinkling out on the lawn, but it’s nearly impossible. you’re the subject of all his thoughts. have been since the moment he saw you standing out in the hall. from the scent of your perfume to the little intricacies of your penmanship. the thing that’s plaguing him the most, however, is your hand on his arm.

bucky’s real arm had been gone for over half a century, having stopped experiencing phantom limb syndrome ages ago. yet somehow he felt it there, clear as day. the same tactile sensations on his flesh, right arm, in the metal prosthetic of his left. an electric shock that he’s never recognized before, and that he wouldn’t be opposed to feeling again.

tomorrow, he plans to thank steve for mischievously adding his name into the lottery.

and to ask you about your record collection.

thanks for reading! <3

tag list: @alastor-simp @j4desblurbs @pandapetals

!! if you would like to be tagged in the rest of the ficmas blurbs, please send me an inbox message or leave a comment !!

[rayaswrittings]

I just want to feel

Pairing: Colby Brock x Fem!best friend!reader

Summary: your best friends, Sam and Colby, ask you to be in one of their Q&A videos, but there’s alcohol involved… a lot of it.

Warning(s): SMUT! Mature Language, mature themes, kissing, alcohol, unprotected p in v, Friends to lovers trope :)), choking etc.

This is a long writing so I’m sorry for mistakes!

“Are you sure I should be in the video? I mean, your fans barely know about me” You ask for a final time as Sam leads you to the living room, his recording camera already set up in front of the couch where Colby had been sitting. The two of them were wearing all black so you did too, a black off the shoulder sweater that was old. It was one of the main things you’d leave at Sam and Colby’s in case you ever crashed for the night.

While most people would kill to be in their videos, you never really saw the point. You were somewhat camera shy and a complete nobody. Why would anyone care to see you on the screen? Not to mention all the random internet ships that come with it all. You grew up with Sam, which means you ultimately grew up with Colby as soon as they met. You were only a teenager and now that your adults, you stay at theirs from time to time when your out with friends and get wasted at a party.

Colby would always come and get you from them.

“Our fans will love you. Just be honest and chill, okay?” Sam nods toward Colby and you walk past him to sit next to the dark haired boy, his strong cologne filling your nose.

“Don’t be nervous, at least we have alcohol” Colby’s comment made a small laugh escape from your lips, and you shook your head at his playful smirk. He was right. Alcohol always calmed you down and made your anxiety a little bit less of what it usually was.

You watch the blonde lean forward to turn on the camera and Colby does the same, although you sit back and watch them do their intro. You’d only been in a few other videos of there’s as a small guest but they always made it known to their fans who you were. After all, you all basically started off nobody’s together.

You remember the last morning you had left for school with Sam in freshman year. It was the last day you’d left alone with him for the rest of high school. Your parents were close to each other so you and Sam had practically known each other for most of your lives, but that day, when he met Colby, it wasn’t just the two of you anymore.

The three of you would take the bus together every morning and walk home every afternoon, spending almost every second in between still with one another. It was perfect. Your group was so refreshing, it felt so right.

Your first argument was when you were in junior year, at a party you knew you shouldn’t of been at.

At the time, you’d been talking to this senior, James. He was the captain of your schools swim team and fairly muscular for his 17 years of age. That night at the party was the first time you’d really done anything, he kept handing you shots and like an idiot, you took them. Looking back on it now, you know it could’ve been avoided, but you also trusted the boy you liked. You truly wanted to just fit in with his friends.

That was until he tried to to undo your crochet top in the middle of the dance floor, whispering dirty nothings into your ear that made you feel disgusting.

When you told him off, he got angry with you, grabbing your arm and trying to pull you away so he could get you alone. People were starting to stare and you were starting to get embarrassed, like you were some random slut he’d been taking upstairs.

But then he was ripped away from you, and in only a matter of seconds, Sam’s hand was laid on the small of your back, checking you for bruises the boy might’ve given you. He was trying to talk to you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the chaos on the floor.

“Colby, get off of him!” You scream, noticing the blood coming from James’s face. Colby was on top of him, punching him the hardest you’d ever seen anyone punch, not sparing him anything. Sam held you back when you tried to get close, they saw what he did to you and there was no way in hell they’d let it slide.

The sound of police sirens fill the street and everyone is quickly running out of the house, and finally Colby stands up. He wipes his now busted lip before looking back at his two friends, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the bloody mess laid on the floor.

You hated blood.

“Y/N-“ you push yourself off Sam and past Colby, looking out the window to watch the police cars pull in front of the house. It looked like a murder scene, and you were so in shock you couldn’t even think straight. “Y/N, we have to go” Colby tries to grab your arm but you quickly pull it away, and now he’s able to see the tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Get out of here!” You can hear the officers radio the closer they get, and all you could think about was getting Sam and Colby out of there. “Go! Please just go!” Your pleading words make it almost impossible to not listen, and with only a few more seconds, your friends were gone.

That was the day you realized the severity of your friendship— or at least you and Colby’s friendship. The fact that all of you would do anything for each other, whether that was beating up an abuser, or putting your life on the line for the other person.

Ever since then, you and Colby had this undeniable tension between the two of you. It was weird, like something you couldn’t figure out. It was only made purely visible that night.

You’d never even kissed Colby, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about it sometimes. Your usually able to hide it, your desire for the boy, except when your at parties.

Whenever you drink, it’s like everything has to come out the way you think it. Nothing like liquid courage, huh? That’s the exact reason you didn’t want to do the video.

You never stopped thinking about that night.

“Y/N?” You blinked at the touch against your arm, and Colby was looking at you with a slight confusion on his face. “You okay?” You notice the camera’s recording light and nod, sitting up with a smile. “I think it’s time to get drunk, huh?” He nudged you and you nod with a laugh “first question!”

One of your other friends was there reading the questions for you, and even though you thought you’d start off light, she did not give you a break.

“What’s the worst doing the dirty experience you’ve had?” Sam and Colby stare at each other for a second until one of them laughs, shaking their head with the dumbest response. Sam, of course makes a joke out of it but Colby has no shame in what he says, as always.

“One time I had a girl use a lot of teeth, and uh… we never talked again. It was very awkward” Sam hisses at the statement, which makes you laugh too. “What about you, Y/N?” Colby turns to you and your face almost turns red from the sudden eyes on you. Everyone in the room and the camera was waiting on you now.

“Uh… I guess the last time I was talking to a guy. I had to fake the whole thing and he finished quick so it just felt so awkward and it was silent the rest of the night” Colby and Sam raise their eyebrows at you but are laughing at the same time. They knew who you were talking about.

“Colby, why do you post with girls on social media and never tell the fans what’s going on?” The question takes all of you by surprise and Colby’s eyes go wide. That was exactly what happened with you and why you didn’t want to be on the channel that much anymore.

“Umm…” He laughs nervously, looking over at you for a split second. “Because sometimes, I don’t know what’s going on, alright? I’m just posting the post and maybe it turns into something or maybe it doesn’t?”

“It’s not like their your girlfriend” Sam interjects and Colby nods agreeably.

“Let’s just say if I had a girlfriend, you guys would know” After you guys are done with that question, your kind of sitting back and watching the two answer at that point. Except they had to drink once so you did too, now you were all one shot in.

“Colby, why do you have a pair of handcuffs in your room?” Everyone’s face is in shock in the room as they look at Colby, waiting for his answer. He laughs nervously again, looking over at same with wide eyes before sitting up.

“I uh… you know I-“

“Might have to drink on that one, huh?” You tease and he rolls his eyes at your words with a laugh, closing the alcohol bottle he was about to open.

“No, no. I um… I use them for personal fun. Yeah, that’s-“

“What the fuck does that mean” You and Sam burst out laughing but your friend shakes her head. “Judge says no. Drink!” Sam hands him the bottle and Colby’s face is now turning a slight red. A tint only you could see because of how close you were.

“I’ve used them for sexual fun” He says just as he’s about to pour the shot, but your friend rolls her eyes and nods that he doesn’t have to drink.

“That was luck” Colby nudges your arm and shrugs, that annoying smirk of his only making you laugh.

“Name two dirty kinks you have” The girl reads and all three of you are wide eyeing the camera. Sam curses under his breath and Colby is still in shock. It was still so early in the game, already?

“Wait, I’m not answering that. I already said one, right?” Sam agrees to Colby but the judge shakes her head. “Just one more then? I already day said one!”

“You go first, Y/N” Sam cuts off his clearly pressured friend and they both turn to you, but your face is an even deeper red then Colby’s now.

“Um… I don’t—I mean it’s been a long time so I don’t really know…”

“Oh come on, Everyone has them” Colby teases and you glare at him, letting out a sigh as you sat back on the couch.

Apart of you was afraid to tell them, because you’d never really been that open with them about sexual preferences. Sam wasn’t the one you were worried about, him and Katrina were perfectly locked in with each other and you knew whatever you said didn’t matter.

But with Colby, there was always this unspoken tension between the two of you. One you tried to ignore but always failed terribly when you’d see him make out with another girl. You were afraid he’d see right through you if you answered the question, and if there was one thing you couldn’t ignore,

It was the way he’d look at you.

“I think… I think choking is attractive, but like not too aggressively, you know?”

“So your submissive?” Colby’s words go through your ear and straight down. He was clearly trying to get to you with that question, and there it was again.

The tension between the two of you.

“Sometimes” You try to cover it up but you can feel his eyes piercing right through you, his smirk showing the small of his pearly white teeth that always made you blush. “What about you then, hmm? Mr. Talk shit” You push his face and the two of them laugh, but Colby is no longer embarrassed to say it.

“I like to be Dominant” He says to the camera and Sam blows air from his mouth, shake his head in disbelief. Colby isn’t looking at you on purpose. Oh god, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You lean back on the couch, scratching your nose to try and hide your burning hot cheeks from everyone’s eyes. It was like he was doing it on purpose. He was so clearly teasing you.

And you wished it wasn’t working, but it’s been so long that it’s impossible for your stomach not to twist into multiple knots.

Or at least that’s the excuse you gave yourself.

After many more questions and many more drinks, the alcohol started to take a toll on all three of you already. You had only had three shots and even the camera was hard to focus on. Sam and Colby’s eyes had been getting red but yours were harder to see because of your eyelashes.

“Who do you think is the most attractive clubhouse member besides Kat” Colby and your own eyes go wide and you both stare at Sam. Obviously he couldn’t answer that, but neither could you, right?

“None! Sorry, gotta drink to that. Can’t answer cause it ain’t true” Sam sasses the camera while opening the bottle. Colby laughs, both of you applauding your friend.

“Yeah, I’m gonna drink to that one as well” Colby reaches down to grab the other bottle from the floor, pouring it into his shot glass. “I can’t answer that, but I do have someone in mind” he cheers to the camera and his words alone make your stomach twist once again. It definitely wasn’t you, but saying something like that… after the other questions..

“What about you, Y/N?” The girl asks as the boys down their own shots. She raises an eyebrow, “might as well give us something here, right?” As much as you wanted to decline and run away embarrassed, you could feel the liquid courage increasing.

The way everyone looked at you, they all knew who it was. You leaned back with a huff, you could feel Colby’s eyes on you the entire time you were stalling, but when you looked at him, his eyes pierced through you.

“I think… I think I’ll drink too” Sam and Colby boo at you when you pour the shot. You couldn’t do it. He didn’t either so that must mean he doesn’t… feel the same, Right?

“I can’t even see the camera anymore, dude” Sam laughs at Colby’s words. Sam has more shots then the two of you so you’d imagine he’d be the one saying it, but of course it was Colby.

Maybe that’s why he was looking at you like that..

Towards the end of the video, all three of you were pretty drunk. Sam was the least, you were in the middle, and Colby… Jesus. Colby was so drunk.

“Fuck, man” Colby lays his head on the end table for just a second, you could tell his head was spinning. You rub his back, his body temperature is very warm. You look over to Sam and nod toward the camera, and Sam immediately understands.

“Maybe we should take a small break?”

“Where are you going?” You ask Sam, watching him put on his jacket and grab his keys. You finished the video about 30 minutes ago and Colby was on the couch watching tv, while you had just changed into night clothes which really were only comfy shorts and a crop top like usual.

“I have to go stay at Kat’s tonight. We’re heading to her parents tomorrow morning” You hum, pouring a glass of water for yourself and one for Colby. You had forgotten Sam was going away for a few days. “Try not to have too much fun while I’m gone” You stop and look at him with slightly furrowed brows, but he’s just raising his eyebrows with a shrug, leaving you with the confusion of his statement.

He doesn’t… he can’t know, right? You weren’t that obvious.

“Water?” Your voice is enough to catch Colby’s attention from the tv. He was watching some random scary movie it looked like but you’d never seen it so you weren’t completely sure. You hand him the water and take a seat next to him, leaving a gap between the two of you. You had thought the tension would be gone by now but it clearly wasn’t, you could only hope it was just your overthinking.

“What’s up with you? You were being weird the whole video” His question makes you somewhat relieved. Maybe he didn’t suspect anything, maybe it really was all just in your own head—but how were you meant to explain you couldn’t focus because of how badly you wanted him. Even now, he was leaned back on the couch, his hair messy from running his hands through it and his tattoos on full display for you to look at. Jesus, it felt like torture.

Why did you have to get drunk?

“I just didn’t feel good” You shrug, looking over at the tv and tilting the glass of water toward your lips. You can feel his eyes on you, waiting for you to give him a real answer but he doesn’t push you. He only takes a sip of his water, turning back to the movie.

“Are you going home tonight?” You glance at the clock, it’s already 11. Should you? You have a room here, you didn’t really need to.

But did he want you to?

“I was planning on staying but if you don’t want me to-“

“I want you to stay” Your stomach twists, with excitement and somewhat nervousness at the same time. He was being direct but he wasn’t even looking at you. You wanted to stay and watch the movie with him, but the more you looked at him, the more the drunken side of you just wanted to kiss him.

You wanted him.

“Come here” You hesitate for a few seconds before placing your drink back on the glass table in front of you, moving to sit closer to the boy. His arm was laid on the back of the couch and he opens the blanket he’d been using to you. He wanted you close.

Your practically curled next to him by the middle of the movie, head laid in the crook of his neck and your legs sitting on top of his own. Not much had been said all movie, but Colby was getting more and more touchy as it went on.

His fingers traced shapes on your bare legs under the blanket, the cold metal of his rings sometimes brushing against your skin. He made it seem so normal, like it was an every day thing the two of you did together.

But this only made you so much hornier.

His scent radiates from his neck, and it was almost as if you wanted to kiss his neck right then and there. It was so alluring—He was so alluring to you.

And he knew it.

“Do you want to tell me why you were really acting weird today?” He asks again, looking down at the tent his hand made under the blanket while he caressed your leg.

You bite your bottom lip, looking at the blanket as well. You could feel the tingling feeling between your legs as his hand touched you farther, as if he had been testing the waters before actually saying anything.

“Colby…” You can’t help but pull your legs even closer together, and that alone is all he needed to tell him how you felt. “Not everything needs an explanation. It’s just… complicated”

“Complicated, huh?” He hums sarcastically, in a knowing form. You bite your lip as you watch him rub his temple, frustration radiating off of him. “You know, For the longest time, I tried to let this whole thing go out of respect for you, Y/N” He mumbled, his voice low and husky with passion. God, he sounded so hot. Even if he was upset, you just couldn’t help yourself. “I always thought it would be you and Sam” He lets out a huffed chuckle, still keeping his eyes on his lap. “But I want it to be me”

What?

No. He isn’t… he doesn’t mean what you think, right? Colby Brock isn’t confessing his feelings for you, right?

“Colby, what’s wrong with you?” His body tenses when you ask that stupid question. What’s wrong with him? Like you didn’t know.

“What’s wrong with me? What about you?” He finally turns his head to look at you, his drunken, sad and very horny eyes staring lasers into yours. “You can’t seriously sit here and believe yourself when you ask me that question” You couldn’t think. You didn’t even move for awhile because of your lack of words or thoughts for that matter. You wanted to give in, but you were also so terrified of if it wasn’t real.

“Colby, I’m not the person you want. Trust me, you will figure that out soon enough” He scoffs as you get off the couch, trying to at least relieve some of the tension between the two of you. Colby was so tired of waiting, but you were just too scared.

“How do you know what I want? You’ve barely spoke to me the past few weeks!” The boy calls after you when your walking away from the couch, his voice only makes you stop. “You’ve been weird for weeks, Y/N. Don’t ask me what’s wrong with me when you can’t even tell me how you feel”

“Colby, I don’t know how I feel!” You turn around with frustration, staring at the back of his head. He was still sat on the couch, and part of you hoped he stayed there—but another part wanted him to go after you. “I haven’t just been distant because of you-“

“That’s such bullshit and you know it” He stands, turning to look at you. You were far too drunk for this. You could feel the unnecessary tears already filling your eyes, you didn’t want to argue with him. “Look me in my eyes and tell me that—then I’ll let it go”

“Can we please just talk about this tomorrow-“

“You know what I think? I think your just scared of feeling weak. Your scared of letting someone in, Y/N. And the past few weeks we’ve been getting closer than before, that’s why your distant now. That’s your biggest weakness” Colby scoffs, grabbing his jacket off the couch and slipping it on with ease. You furrow your eyebrows as he walks toward you, and past you.

You grab his arm, “Colby, your drunk. Don’t go out, Please” he’s avoiding your eyes but you can see the chisel on his jaw, clenching with what you thought had been anger. “I don’t know how to do this, Colby. I… I can’t even bring myself to say the words I want to say to you” He tears his arm away from you, snatching his keys from the countertop. No. You couldn’t let it end like that—not when you have so much to say. “Okay, fine!”

“You want the truth, Colby? For years all I felt for you for you, all in silence because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship with Sam and Each other. I watched you with other girls since we were juniors! I couldn’t stand you, but yet I also couldn’t stand to be without you. Everywhere I go, I always want you with me—and when i’d see you with other girls, it would make me feel stupid, like my feelings meant nothing to you even if you didn’t know”

“How was I supposed to tell you that? How was I supposed to tell you that even after everything that’s happened, I still can’t stop loving you!” Your confession slips like words of anger said in an heated argument. Colby still wasn’t looking at you, which only made your heart ache even worse. You just poured your heart out to him—couldn’t he at least look at you?

“When you got put in the hospital during senior year, I was there every fucking second with you! I cried, Colby! I was a mess for days, and Sam was the one who had to juggle the two of us!” You remembered that day like it was yesterday. The day you’d gotten into a huge argument with Sam about your feelings for Colby. Sam always knew of both your feelings, but he didn’t say anything to the other. If you were going to admit, it had to be to each other. “I’m usually so good at hiding how I feel, but I’m getting so tired of it. The Same repeating cycle I just-“

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Y/N. Why didn’t you-“

“Are you serious? After all those talks we had about you not caring for a relationship and not wanting a future with someone? You were practically telling me no! I wanted to tell you but then you started going to parties more and kissing girls and-“

“Y/N”

“It hurt me, Colby. That’s why I didn’t tell you. It would physically hurt my chest to see you kiss another girl after flirting with me for DAYS. You played with my head and I know I played with yours too but-“

“Y/N, I’m-“

“No matter how hard I try or how many guys I find, there’s nothing for me. I can’t… I can’t move past you and it fucking sucks” You hadn’t even realized he moved until you were done talking. He was close now—close enough to hear his breathing if you’d been quiet enough. Your heart shatters with every passing moment that’s goes silent. You knew you couldn’t be the same after this, so you begged in your mind for him to say something.

Only he didn’t say anything, and for a moment you actually thought he’d leave you there alone.

But you two were meant to love each other, Remember?

A silent moan escapes your mouth as he crashes his lips into your own, the sound muffled by his. The kiss is filled with so much passion it could make one’s heart explode if you weren’t too careful, it felt like the two of you had been waiting years to do this.

Which you were.



After the first kiss, the two of you didn’t waste any time. Colby pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as you continued to make out with the dark haired boy. His large hands cupped your ass, and soon enough you felt your back hit the cold wall. One of your hands were laid on the side of his neck while the other held the back of his hair, tugging on it slightly.

It had only been a few seconds ago you were sitting watching a movie—how in the hell did you both get here so quick?

He carried you to the couch, sitting down so you could straddle his lap instead of holding yourself up against his waist.

His hands release your ass and move up your back, slipping under your shirt to unclip your bra.

Colby smirks against your lips and removes his hand from your shirt, lifting your chin to pull away from the kiss. “Dirty girl” You hum as his lips attach to your neck, his comment making you all the more wet then you already were. You didn’t put a bra on—and Colby seemed to have really liked that you didn’t. “You make such pretty sounds—wish I could’ve heard them sooner”

You can feel the hardness under you, and the more you grind on him, the more you can feel his grip on you tighten. It didn’t hurt—it just turned you on even more.

“Colby, Please” You plead breathlessly. You wanted him to do more then just kiss your neck. You wanted him to take you to his room, to do everything he’d do to someone else. “You don’t have to be gentle with me” you tug his hair gently, meeting his lust filled eyes. You were desperate for him and you didn’t care, you’d waited since junior year to have your way with him—to have him want you.

“I’ll leave marks all over you, Y/N” he says in a slightly warning tone as if he didn’t want to completely destroy you in that moment, but you shake your head, grabbing his hand that slipped to the waistband of your sleeper shorts.

“I just want to feel something” You say in a tone he’d never heard you in before, one that made him want you even worse then before. You slip your hand off his own and place it on his chiseled chest, feeling the crease of his abs all the way down until you reached his belt. You wanted him, you just wanted him to know that. “I want to feel you, Colby. I want you”

“You want me to treat you like everyone else?” You hesitate but nod after a few seconds, slipping off his lap to stand to your feet. He stands in front of you, his height making a clear difference above you. His expression hadn’t changed yet, he was so hard to read. “I won’t do that, Y/N” Before you could say anything, he was already picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist again, crashing his lips back into yours as he made his way to his room.

This man… you didn’t know how to describe the feeling you had when he kissed you, but it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before. He was so different from everyone else you’d been with, and you didn’t know why.

You did. Deep down you knew why he made you feel the way he did. Colby was the only guy you truly wanted. Even when you had a boyfriend, you still wanted him instead.

He drops you onto his bed, removing his black wife beater and throwing it to the side, revealing his tattooed body you’ve grown to love looking at. He looked so good in this lighting, and the way his hair fell messy over his forehead—you couldn’t stop your thoughts from running wild.

“I want you, Y/N. I need to know I have all of you—that your only for me” You pick your head up to look at him briefly, fingers playing with the string of his pants. “I won’t treat you like some random slut when your not”

The feeling of his fingertips brushing against your skin made you shiver, it made you feel as if this might’ve not been real, maybe a dream after all. But after seeing his face and feeling his hand stop just above your waistline, everything felt at ease.

“I’ve always been yours, Colby Brock” That was all he needed to hear, all he needed to give into you.

And soon enough, here you were again, pinned against the bed while Colby’s hands grip your waist, peppering sweet kisses against your neck. You almost couldn't hold it in.

Your hand slowly found its way to the back of his neck, running your fingers through his hair as his wandering hands went right under your shorts. You knew what you were doing with the outfit, and it only made him laugh just thinking about it.

“Please, Colby. I don’t want you to hold back… I want you to give me all of you” you were smirking to yourself, biting your nail like this was somewhat funny to you. Colby didn’t see the appeal, if he was going to fuck you, he was going to ruin you for anyone else.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Y/N” He tells you with a sharp tone, moving to place his hands against the beds cloth, closing you between him. You smirk, looking him up and down once before looking back to his face.

“I’m tired of waiting” The two of you laid there, staring at the other for what felt like forever until He finally gave in, cursing himself under his breath before he grabbed your neck to pull you into a rough kiss. Your body is flush against his as he completely explores your body with his hands. You could feel his growing erection, you could feel his hunger for your body like he felt yours.

“Colby” You mumble in a breathless moan. His lips remove from yours and move to your jaw, hungrily peppering wet kisses down it, all the way to your neck.

“You are so fucking hot, Jesus” He groans against your ear, placing soft kisses on your sensitive skin. Your moans are what encourage him the most. Hearing your sweet whimpers in his ear as he sucked on your neck felt like a dream. Believe god, he’d had that dream many, many times before.

“I’ve waited so long for this” Your breathless under him, gripping his hair between your small fingers. You could feel his cock pressing against you, begging for your tongue. It was big—he was so fucking big. It should’ve scared you but you were more intrigued, grinding your hips against his to gain some friction with the little time you had before he stopped your bratty movements.

“I know you have” He teases and you only roll your eyes, grabbing his hand that held you steady against him. You could feel his lips brushing your skin, he wanted to mark you, and you wanted him to. You wanted Colby Brock to let everyone know you were his.

“Nothings stopping me from walking out that door” You hum, holding his head and slightly pushing it down so his lips reattached to your neck. “I’ll find someone else—someone who hasn’t played with me for years” A grunt escapes his mouth as if he had been fighting with the feeling, shaking his head between your neck before meeting your eyes again; your bratty, untamed eyes.

“You’ve waited so long I thought? So long your body even reacts when I look at you” He’s so obviously joking and you love every second of it. Every word of degradation is like music to your ears, like a forbidden kink you didn’t know you had. “This is what you wanted, huh? All those looks you’d give me after I’d make out with randoms—you were so jealous, Sweetheart” Your ears are perking at his every word but your eyes were filled with annoyance. Colby knew now so why would you hide it? Hide your jealousy? “All those times, you could’ve just told me you wanted me and I would’ve given it all to you. Nobody else”

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling you closer to his body then before with a smirk, shrugging your shoulders. “That doesn’t matter. I have you now” His eyes. Oh god, his eyes were so hungry. At first you didn’t know what to think but it only took you a few seconds to realize once his large arms were wrapped around your thighs, pulling your body close to him.

His chin sat against your stomach, staring up at you like he had been waiting for you to say something. But you didn’t know what he was planning until his thumb was ghosting around your clothed clit, that same smirk pulling at his lips as he watched you.

He slips your shorts off with ease, along with your black lace underwear, tossing them both to the side.

“Fuck” You breath heavily, leaning your head back against the sheets, not even realizing the boy under you was now fully under you. “S-shit!” Your hand fell clasp over your mouth to silence your moan, eyes falling back on him under you. Except now, his face was pressed into your dripping wet cunt, and his fingers teased what his mouth didn’t. “Fucking hell, Colby” You mumble under your unsteady breath, trying your hardest not to moan because he had just started and you didn’t want to seem weak.

But holy shit, this boy knew how to use his tongue.

Your hand fell atop his head in hopes to gain some sort of stability but that quickly failed, given how badly he was attacking your clit. His mouth was warm against you and you already knew you’d come soon. It was like he knew your body inside and out.

“I know your not holding back on me, are you?” His words vibrate against your cunt making you jolt, thankful his arms held you down so you wouldn’t squirm. Colby was in pure bliss under you, relishing in your sweet taste that so effortlessly painted his tongue. You were wet, your cunt was begging for more even if you were a crying mess above him, like it finally found what it had been longing for.

“I can take it” He chuckles at your attempt at retaliation but still manages to one up you, slipping two of his large, slender fingers inside you. “C-Colby, let me-“

“No” He only uttered one word but it was enough to make you listen like a trained dog, allowing your legs to tremble against his face. You could’ve taken it had you been prepared, but it had been far too long before any guy had done this to you.

“You taste so fucking good, Y/N” His fingers curl against your spongy walls, pushing his tongue against your clit quickly as your moan’s increased. It was so clear you were already on edge, about to let go without it being over five minutes. You find your pride slipping from you in a matter of seconds, begging the man to let you come as your fingers tug his hair. You couldn’t hold on, your legs were far too weak.

“Please, please—Colby, please” His ears are perking as you moan his name, begging for him, moaning for him. Normally, he’d take his time with you but now? He needed to release all that tension between the two of you from years ago, he knew he couldn’t last much longer. He needed to be inside of you, and for that exact reason is why he only sped up under you. “G-gonna come..!”

Your mind tried to come up with some sort of reason as to how you got yourself here, How you got your best friend between your legs, and definitely how you were about to fully submit yourself to this boy while your true feelings for each other were unknown. He was thinking the same thing; how did he get so lucky to have you above him?

“Let go for me, Pretty girl” In only seconds, you’re coming undone above him, legs almost falling weak as they shook from your release, sending shivers throughout your entire body. Colby’s still torturing your body, pumping his fingers into you at a faster pace. It was clear, he was trying to kill you.

“Colby!” You cry, gripping his hair with a begging tone. You couldn’t take it much longer. You had to push him away. Finally, after what felt like forever, he removed his tongue from you, letting his fingers slip from inside you. His strong arms are the only thing that held your legs still, and you could see your release painted on his chin once he looked up at you. “Holy shit” You curse under your breath, chest heaving as he stood to his feet. You look at the large man above you, noticing once again how he towers over you.

He bites his lip, admiring your perfect body that had been on almost full display for him. He leans down when you notice how hard he is, lifting your chin with the hand he hadn’t used on you.

You watch through your eyelashes as he sucks his finger clean from your release, biting his lip with a silent chuckle at how lovingly you looked at him. You grab his hand, pulling it closer to you until his other finger was pressed against your lips—to which you copied his action from before, staring into his dark eyes as you did.

“Good girl” He knew you liked that. It was so obvious—the way your legs clench together at his praise. He pulls his hand away and moves it to your neck, pressing a soft but sloppy kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself from him, and God… it was so fucking hot.

Your hand feels his body effortlessly until you reach his aching print, a small smile pulling at your lips against him.

“Let me” You mumble breathlessly, placing your hand over his cock. You could feel how desperate he had been for you, how badly he wanted you in that moment. His hand wraps around your throat firmly, pulling your lips to crash back into his own. He was so rough and impatient—you loved it.

“I need you. Right here, Right now” His voice is deep and makes your skin shiver, the way his hands touch you so delicately but with control. His room was slightly dark, only lit by the strip of LED’s above his bed frame.

“I want to be yours, Colby. Make me yours, please” Your words make his and your own stomach twist into knots, he almost felt bad. He waited so long to make the move, afraid he misread the signs, but he’d never admit that. You allow your hands to travel down his bare abs, feeling every chisel between the pads of your fingertips. When you reach his belt, you’re quick to help him tug his pants off, watching him with the most admiration.

“After we do this, everything will change” He looks at you once more, both of your hands laid on the waistband of his underwear. You lay your free hand on the side of his neck and use the other to touch him lower—right where he wanted you the entire time.

His breath shutters at your bare touch, something he’s wanted for so long was finally right in front of him. You were all he wanted and he prayed you ensue him just as much.

“I love you, Colby. There’s no change in that” You tell him truthfully, watching his eyes soften just before you pulled his face down to kiss his lips. Except this kiss had much more

meaning—the kiss after you’d admit your feelings for one another.

He leans you down, closing you between his large body and his bed, your hand is still pressed into his print, but he’s already slipping his underwear off by the time you can notice.

Fuck. He was going to ruin you.

Your hands cup his face when his tip presses against your entrance, slick coating it by the second. You wanted him for so long, you didn’t care if it hurt at first.

You just wanted him.

From the moment he pushed inside of you, the only feeling you could endure was love. He was slow, gentle to help you get used to his size. The boy peppers kisses to your neck as he pushed further, comforting your slightly pained moans that slip from your lips without warning.

“Mmm” You let out a soft moan once his tip is past your entrance, the hard part was now over. You look at him with your lips parted, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. He pushes your hair out of your face before kissing you, and you weren’t prepared for when he pushed into you fully with one snap of his hips.

Your toes curled and your nails dug into his skin desperately, the feeling was almost indescribable. You just felt… full.

“Oh my god” You moan against his lips, throwing your head back as he strokes you slowly, massaging your thigh. You looked so perfect like this, so pretty in this light. Your body was almost bare for him, and your body was welcoming him with open arms—he couldn’t get enough of you. “Colbs…Colby” one of your hands release his shoulder to grip the sheet underneath you, teeth catching your bottom lip between them.

“Starting to feel good?” He hums while you nod, moving his head down to your neck, placing sloppy kisses against it. His hips find a steady pace at first and gradually work their way up, starting deep, then fast to your skin. “God, you feel so good” one of his hands travels up your body until it reaches the shirt covering your upper half, just wanting to rip in off of you.

“Take it off, baby” Your breathless words are too late when he’s already slipping it off your now fully bare body, completely discarding it to the floor next to him. Jesus, you were so perfect.

“You are so beautiful, Y/N” He presses a kiss to your lips before moving down your body, trailing his wet tongue down until he reached your nipple. He couldn’t take his eyes off you, the curves of your body… you were practically made for him. A shuddered moan escapes your lips when he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, kneading the other with his free hand.

“Mmm!” Between the stokes of his hips and the sensations he brought to your skin, you couldn’t hold much in. You were sure you were being too loud but the two of you didn’t care. It was just you and him, nobody else.

His strong arms capture your thighs, pulling one of your legs to rest against his shoulder. “Colby! I can’t… oh my gosh” Your little voice is projecting off the walls of the empty room but you don’t care, only worried about the boy above you. Your head was still slightly spinning from the drinks you endured earlier that night and it only mixed with your horny mess of a body, begging Colby for more. “It’s so good… fuck! You’re so fucking good!”

“Look at you. Such a fucking mess under me. You needed me just as much as I needed you” He grabs the back of your head, pulling you up slightly so you were at an angle you couldn’t look away from him. His big eyes were burning holes into your own, hips rutting into you like he had something to prove.

Which he did.

“Gonna come…! Colby, I’m gonna come!” Your a whining mess under him and he loves every second of it, pushing his hips into you faster then before. Your small body was like a toy in his hand and you were at his every command, doing everything he said.

“Come for me. Want you to scream my name so the whole neighborhood knows who’s fucking you this good—so ever man knows your mine” You knew it was a bad idea but who were you to decline that request? You were already screaming as it was. “My dirty girl, Your so fucking hot like this”

“I’m coming! I’m—oh my god I-“ Your voice is cut off by your loud moan, leg shuttering against his shoulder as you felt your release threatening to push over. His tip was kissing your cervix repeatedly, and you knew you couldn’t last much longer. “Colby…!” You cry out, pressing your hand to his chest as if that was going to do anything. Your orgasm finally tipped, and you felt it hit you like a truck.

“That’s it, Baby. Good girl” His thumb rubs circles against your clit as he ruts into your harder, watching your liquid spurt from between the two of you. “My god, Y/N. So fucking good for me”

“Colby… please—Jesus-“

“You can whine all you want, but your body is calling mine for more. You want more” You grip his large arms until your knuckles turn white, scratching along his tanned skin. You curse at him, not wanting to hear his teasing any longer. “Fuck me? I’m only giving you what you want” You look at him with an angry look for a second before completely switching, a smirk pulling at your lips. Jesus, you were nasty, huh?

He pulls out of you all at once making you whine, not able to protest before he’s already flipping you over onto your stomach and pushing your ass in the air. You giggle, stretching your arms in front of you as you arch your back against him, begging him to forgive you. “I was only joking, Pretty boy” You hum, looking back at his face.

He doesn’t say anything and grabs your hips roughly, pulling you back onto his length that so easily slipped inside of you. Your eyes roll back almost instantly as he bottoms you out, pushing his cock as deep as he could reach inside you. “This is what you wanted? Then fucking take it” He growls against your ear, slamming himself into your harder than he had been before. You couldn’t even think straight, you were already so fucked out you didn’t even remember what it felt like to not be fucked.

“fuck! Right there! Please, Colby—fuck me right there!” Your begging voice is music to his ears, your hands gripping the ground under you as he pushed himself against you. “You’re so deep… so fucking good to me, baby” He hums, leaning against your body so you were entirely pressing against him, his tongue running along your skin. Once again, you could feel his sloppy kisses against your shoulder and your neck.

“Nobody can fuck you like I can, Pretty girl. Your mine. You’re all fucking mine, you hear me?” You cry out a yes, the sound of your skin slapping against each others being the only thing that could be heard. “That’s it, just like that, my love” He praises against your ear, holding your hips to press into his.

“Colby, I’m gonna come… oh my god” You whine into the sheet, feeling the pressure building up fast inside you. He’s a grunting mess above you so you knew he was close as well, he was only holding out for you. “Come with me. Please, don’t hold out on me”

The snap of his hips slow down the closer he gets, and now your body is flush against his own, rocking back and forth to his pace with his face buried in your neck.

“I fucking love you, Y/N. My girl, come for me and only me, yeah?” You moan at his words, throwing your head back against his chest as his fingers circle your sensitive clit. you couldn’t hold it anymore, and neither could he. “I’m right behind you”

Drunk sex always felt way too good but usually it was faster and much sweatier, this felt far too different. Even if your hips moved fast against his, it still felt like everything had been in slow motion. The way his hands held your delicate body in his embrace as he thrust his hips up to meet your own, how his lips parted in anticipation to kiss yours, Colby was so hungry for you—his body, was hungry for you.

“Colby… Colby!” His name rolls off your tongue in a beautiful moan. You can feel his slight hesitance but the eyes you give him are enough to tell him exactly what you wanted. You wanted all of him, just as you said.

“Fuck…!” He curses under his breath, your moans filling his ears as you clenched down onto him. He continues to coach you to it, and with one last snap of his hips and circle to your clit, you felt your body release it’s everything onto his. He shushes your loud scream while silencing his own grunts, fingers digging into your hips to pull you close, painting your gummy walls with his white, hot release.

For awhile, All that was heard was your heavy breathing and the sounds of the tv in the other room, and you soon found yourself collapsed next to each other on the bed. Your chests were heaving horribly, and the sweat that drip from your foreheads were now everywhere. You look over at the boy next to you, only to find he had already been looking at you, both of you breathing heavy—lips parted.

It only took a second for one of you to start laughing, and Colby leaned over to kiss you again, this time staying there for the longest he could.

You hum as he pulls away just a tiny bit, still close to your face. Your eyes are shut, relishing in the feeling you had. How do you go on from this? Clearly you two loved each other, but you prayed it wouldn’t be weird…

“Come here” He lays his arm out, pulling your body closer to his so you could lay your head against his chest. The room was hot and smelled of pure sex but neither of you complained. You were just happy.

“Colby…” You mumble after awhile in silence, tracing the tattoo on his chest for the 2nd time. He hums in response, the tips of his fingers brushing through your soft hair. You almost feel bad, as if you’re about to ruin the amazing night you had—but you had to say it. “Where do we go from here..?”

Your voice is low and nervous, so focused on the negative that you couldn’t even see the obvious answer. Colby made it clear what he wanted. He couldn’t go back to normal with you—not after this night.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I’ve always wanted that” He pushes your hair away from your face, placing his finger under your chin to lift it. “Please tell me that’s what you want too”

Your eyes soften at his hesitant tone, grabbing the hand that sat under your chin to intertwine your fingers. Of course you wanted that. It was all you ever wanted.

You nod

“Sam is going to be so happy”

Just a little something different 😉. See y’all whenever :))

[nereidprinc3ss]

belladonna

in which you have to get your tetanus shot, and spencer is there to hold your hand. and… tease you. just a little bit. (bandages universe)

fluff warnings/tags: needles/r has needle phobia, flirty!reader, idiots in love, teasing, not established relationship yet, anxiety, Spencer makes a joke abt his addiction, did I mention IDIOTS IN LOVE a/n: works as a standalone, as do all the bandages fics I believe. anyway hope u like! <3

“Spencer, I don’t think I can do this.”

He sets down his shoddy hospital coffee and grabs your knee to stop your leg from its rapid bouncing, exerting a gentle pressure when you don’t immediately comply.

“Yes, you can. Just breathe, okay? Try to relax. It’s much harder for your brain to remain in fight-or-flight if your body is relaxed.”

“No, it’s—I feel like I can’t breathe right now,” you say, chest constricted in a vice of panic. “I think my heart is beating too fast, I—”

Footsteps approach from the hallway and your head snaps up, cold dread filling every vein in your body—but they continue past your door.

“Oh my god, I’m losing it. I’m going to die here,” you rave, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. The gauze wrapped around your hand presses against your brow and beneath it a cut throbs dully—a cruel reminder of what it is that you’re doing here in the first place.

Spencer gives up on trying to make you stop bouncing your leg, and instead the hand travels to your jaw to find your pulse. His fingers feel cool against your warmed skin, accentuating the constant thrum of your heart. You watch his face anxiously as fifteen seconds go by. 

“Your pulse is pretty high,” he admits gravely, returning his hands to his pockets. Your brow knits at his sudden solemnity as you look up at him. “I’m not a medical doctor, but… we might have to take you to the hospital.”

Any trace of worry withers from your face. “Truly hilarious.”

The corner of his mouth turns up a little.

“See? You’re calm enough to make a sarcastic joke at my expense. If you were actually going to die I doubt you would be able to do that.”

“Wanna make a bet?” you snap.

“Definitely not,” he smiles, warm eyes alight and not at all fazed by your attitude. “You’re the last person I’d bet against.”

“Ha,” you say bitterly, eyes darting to the door again. “In that case I might just take my chances with tetanus.”

“I just watched you slice your hand open on a rusty fence, take down a man twice your size, and get ten stitches without flinching. Needles should be afraid of you.”

At least now your face is warming from the compliment and not the anxiety. 

“It’s... different. Like, stitches and shots. Shots really fucking freak me out. I don’t know if you could tell. I’m sure I seem really chill about it.”

He nods sagely. “Trypanophobia. It’s among the most common phobias in the world, next to Arachniphobia, Ophidiophobia, Acrophobia, Aerophobia. You have Astraphobia, too, don’t you? Fear of storms?”

“Spencer.”

“I also used to struggle with needles, actually.”

You look back at him, suddenly curious.

“Used to?”

“Yeah, but I pretty much got over it when I got all the vaccines for my clearance at the Academy. Becoming addicted to intravenous drugs helped, too, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he muses, examining the art on the wall behind you and taking a sip of his coffee.

At that exact moment, the door opens and a very professional, very exhausted-looking nurse hurries in. You hardly even register her because you’re staring at Spencer, trying to figure out if you just heard him right. He’s looking right back at you over the rim of his cup, eyes dancing with what looks like suppressed mirth.

The nurse says something, and you bless her with an ‘uh-huh’, unable to take your eyes off of Spencer.

“I must be hallucinating,” you say.

“What? You’re the only one allowed to make off-color jokes at inappropriate times?”

“I didn’t even know you could make a regular joke, honestly.”

“You ready, dear?” says the nurse, swabbing your upper arm with an alcohol wipe.

“Ah! Spencer!” You yelp, thrusting out your hand for him to take. He quickly sets the cup  back down on the window sill and takes your outstretched hand, stepping closer.

“Relax,” he laughs upon seeing how your shoulders have risen to meet your ears. “Don’t look over there. Look at me.” Gently he brushes a loose strand of your hair behind your shoulder, redirecting your focus toward him. At this point you’ve gone catatonic anyway, so you don’t resist, although it doesn’t seem to matter much because you’re basically blacking out. “Literally relax your arm. I'm serious. It will hurt less.”

“Small pinch, darlin’,” the nurse says, and you clench your jaw so hard you’re afraid you might break a tooth, and maybe some tetanus-induced lockjaw wouldn’t actually be so bad, and she’s touching your arm now, and who made that extremely undignified squeaking noise, and— “And you’re done.”

You frown.

“I’m done?”

“You’re done,” the nurse repeats. Logically she has no reason to lie to you about this, but you look over to check anyway because there’s simply no way you’re done just like that. Sure enough, she’s smoothing a band-aid over your shoulder and pulling your sleeve back into place.

You look back at Spencer as if searching for a second opinion, utterly baffled. He carefully frees his poor hand of your bone crushing grip and grabs your discarded FBI jacket from the chair, handing it to you.

“That’s it?” you say, taking the jacket and absent-mindedly folding it on your lap.

“That’s it. You did it.”

“Really? That’s all? I feel like it can’t be that easy. I don’t even think I felt anything,” you ramble, rolling your shoulder around, and finding just a bit of soreness.

“You were so brave,” he nods, stepping closer to wipe something warm and wet away from under your eyes. “Americans can rest easy knowing they’ve got someone like you in the FBI.”

“Shut up. Am I crying?”

He laughs, and the twinkly sound fills you with even more joy than normal. Everything seems a little brighter, a little warmer—probably another adrenaline rush or a result of your brain releasing a trace amount of opioids in response to the pain.

“Just a little bit.”

“You two are FBI?” The nurse says, like she can’t quite believe it.

Before you can tell her that you don’t very much like her tone, Spencer nods.

“Behavioral analysis unit.”

“Oh! You guys catch all those serial killers?”

He nods politely, giving her a flat smile. “That’s the goal, yes.”

“Wow. There’s a meet-cute to tell your children.”

You snort and immediately clap your good hand to your mouth, looking up at Spencer to see how he’ll react. Of course he’s already red and stammering.

“Oh, no—I—maybe I misled you, we’re not, uh… we’re not together. Not like that. We are partners in the, in the sense of our job, not—we’re not romantically involved. Just—co-workers. Friends. We’re, I’d say we’re good friends. I mean, she’s great. She’s very nice, and, well—maybe nice isn’t exactly the right word, but she’s, you know—”

“Spencer,” you interrupt.

“You ready to go?” he says immediately, looking very grateful that someone finally cut him off. Works like a charm, every time. 

You stand, and to your surprise, wobble a bit on your feet. Spencer steadies you with a hand to your waist. “Woah,” you mutter, trying not to look too disoriented.

“You need to eat,” he says. “With how anxious you’ve been you probably completely burned through whatever calories were in your system. It’s a parasympathetic nervous system response to adrenaline.”

“I know what it is.” You grab his hand and turn to the nurse, who is looking at the two of you with a bemused, slightly clinical interest. “Um... thanks? Right?”

“Okay,” Spencer says. “We’re leaving now. Come on. Go.”

As he’s herding you out the door, you keep trying to look at him over your shoulder. “Is it weird that I kind of liked it? Does that, like… point to something?”

“Never repeat that,” Spencer says, shaking his head, but you can hear the strain of a hidden smile in his voice. 

You smile up at him as the two of you walk down the empty hallway, swinging his hand in yours.

“She thought we were together,” you say, and it’s almost a gloat, though Spencer can’t quite wrap his mind around what that might mean. Instead, he relishes the weight of your hand in his. He doesn’t exactly remember when that became commonplace, but he never takes it for granted. He can’t help the smirk across his face which always lets you know he’s going to say something snarky. 

“She just doesn’t understand that you need constant attention or you’ll die.”

Luckily, you’re used to each other. Quips are just one prevalent dialect in your vast love language. 

“Yup. I’m a delicate, rare flower.”

Spencer scoffs lightly.

“Yeah. Like deadly nightshade. Or water hemlock.”

“Those ones are pretty, right?”

He squeezes your hand. Imagines telling you that he’s in love with you and has been for a very long time. 

Instead, he thinks about dinner. 

“Gorgeous. Where do you want to eat, Belladonna?”

for more of these two, check out the bandages universe masterlist!