#a little bit of Bedframe here and there because it's still so hard for me to draw it

[oxavierart]

⭐ Had some slow months this year, but otherwise, 2024 has been my most productive year of art. I think I've improved a lot a lot

2024 was supposed to be the year I drew a bunch of Yakuza fanart, but then Guilty Gear full-force tackled me in April & it was all downhill from there

& above all else, 2024 was the year of bedman, Post The Bedman Collage

[bountydroid]

Take a Ride, Cowgirl

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader SMUT

Request: riding the ghoul and he puts his hat on you and smacks your ass?? 

TW: p in v, spanking, irradiated creampie, Dom!Cooper, a little rough, all porn no plot

Notes: I literally wrote this while hiding in the basement from a tornado in case you ever wonder where my priorities lie.

You really aren't sure how you ended up here. Sure, you and Cooper always had an unspoken attraction to each other, but neither of you ever acted on it, instead opting for playful banter. However, here you are, grinding into the lap of the most feared man in the Wastelands. 

"Cooper," You moaned into his mouth as your hips kept their rhythm. The ghoul was laid out underneath you, comfortable on your squeaking bedframe. His hands were firm against your hips, almost like he was afraid you'd stop.

"Sugar," He groaned before his lips started to trail down your neck, nipping along the way. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

You let out a breathy laugh because he's wrong, you do know how long he's wanted this. You've noticed his eyes on you from the first moment you met, always scanning you up and down hungrily. You've wanted him just as long.

Your laugh seemed to anger him as he bit down hard on your neck, earning him a mix of a squeal and a moan, before spanking your ass harshly. "Somethin' funny?" 

"I need you." You moan as he keeps his hand on your backside, massaging you gently.

"You think you deserve it?" He asked as he squeezed your ass hard.

"Please," You pleaded as your hips sped up in his lap causing him to let out a string of curses.

“Take off your clothes, sweetheart.” Cooper said, a hint of begging in his voice. You were quick to comply, ripping off your clothes like they burned to the touch. Before long you were naked atop of him, breathing heavily with a wild look in your eye.

“Fuck, Cooper.” You groaned as you brought your face back down to his, your forehead knocking against his hat still snug on top of his head. Kissing him felt like a drug, the deeper the kiss the more intoxicated you felt. The kiss quickly became feral and needy as you pressed your body flat against him. “Need you.” You manage to mumble out into his mouth again. 

“Why don’t you take a ride, cowgirl.” Cooper said pulling away from my face while giving you a mischievous grin. You let out a small huff of disapproval at the lack of contact, but still obeyed, 

hands quickly fumbling with his leather belt. Before long you had his cock exposed and you couldn’t help but salivate at the sight.

“I can’t wait any longer.” You begged as you positioned yourself above his still-clothed body. He moaned needily underneath you before giving your ass another harsh smack.

“Then don’t.” He groaned as he tried to buck up into you, the head of his cock smacking against your needy clit causing you to let out a strangled moan before you lowered yourself onto him. You went slow, savoring the feeling of his leathery skin inside of you. It was unlike anything you have ever felt before, and you needed more. Once you bottomed out you stopped to catch your breath. You felt him snug inside of you, almost like he was molded to fit you perfectly as the tip of him pressed heavily against your cervix. 

“Perfect.” You mumbled out, already drunk on the feeling of him inside of you. “You are perfect.” 

He let out a scoff as his hands roamed up your body, pinching your nipples gently.  “Needed me that bad, sugar?” He asked as he twisted and pulled at your nipples. Lost in the pleasure you could only nod in response. You screwed your eyes shut as you felt yourself clench around him, earning you a soft groan. “I told you to ride me.” He fake scolded you as he placed his hat on your head. “So, ride.” He commanded.   

You did as you were told, lifting your hips up from his slowly, savoring the feeling as you pulled him out of you completely before smashing back down on top of him, quickly finding the perfect rhythm. 

“Shit.” You cried out as he bumped against your cervix again and again. As your climax neared your pace began to falter, but Cooper was having none of that. Another hard smack rang out in the air as you cried out in both pain and pleasure. No doubt your ass would be bruised in the morning. The thought of his handprint left on you in black and blue caused you to clench hard around him as you picked up your pace again. 

“Gettin’ close, sweetheart. Don’t you stop.” Cooper ordered as he bucked up into you, a groan leaving his mouth. Eager to please, you kept your pace despite your thighs shaking on either side of him, begging for mercy, begging for you to slow down but you were both so close. You couldn’t stop now.

“Please, please Cooper.” You begged, your mind completely blank from the pleasure. Your pleas didn’t go unanswered as he grabbed your hips and pounded up into you, finally letting you go limp against him as you continued to beg into his chest. As your bodies collided, the hat fell off your head. You tried to grab it but you couldn’t reach it. Cooper noticed what happened and have your ass another harsh smack, causing you to tumble over the edge as your vision went white. You screamed out in pleasure as you came hard around him. 

“So fuckin’ careless with my shit.” He mumbled into your hair, the feeling of you tight around him making it impossible for him to be mad at you. As pleasure turned to overstimulation you started to writhe against him. “Nuh, uh. You ain’t goin’ anywhere.” He tutted while he continued to piston into you, his fingers leaving bruises on your hips. When he climaxed, he let out a long, gruff moan. He was pushing you as far down onto his lap as you could go causing you to whimper into his chest. 

As you came down from your high, soreness started to set in. Cooper seemed to anticipate this as he rubbed soft circles into your hips. 

“So, what do you think, Coop?” You asked, slowly pushing yourself up to look at him. “Am I a good cowgirl?” He let out a surprised laugh at your question before pulling you down back into a deep kiss. 

“I don’t know, sugar.” He jested. “I think you need some more practice.”

Tag list: @v3lv3tf0x

[bamboobooshark]

LOGAN HOWLETT X READER

‧₊ ᵎᵎ 🧸 ⋅ ˚✮ SQUISHY (1) : 866 WRDS

( PART TWO HERE )

A/N : Rambling warning! An amazing reader recently asked if I could write a series with Steven and Jake, but I declined due to lack of skill for writing plots. “Squishy” will be an experimental, practice miniseries in which Logan is the (implied plus-sized) reader’s father figure, and care giver for when they regress. I SWEAR I will eventually write some Logan stuff that isn’t fatherly/platonic!

You wake up and are still in a pretty stressed state. Last night you argued with your best friend, and they ended up blocking you. It wasn’t like them to do that. All that time the two of you spent together, every deep conversation, every moment of vulnerability soured just because of a disagreement. You never would’ve expected it, but here you were, sulking as your mind was screaming at you.

It was hard to think. It was hard to do anything. It was just hard.

Thank god for Logan Howlett, though. He came into your room with cautious steps and a worried look. “Hey, kid. I noticed you didn’t come down for breakfast,” he said with a soft voice. His gaze lingered on the outline of you under your blanket while patiently awaiting a response. “Just let me know if you end up getting hungry. I’ll make you something, okay? In the meantime I’ll be in my room,” he told you with a tone that pleaded for a response. After standing in the awkward silence of your room, he slowly walked out.

You weren’t really hungry. You’d lost your appetite. You didn’t want to do anything. But Logan’s tone tugged at your heart and flipped a switch in your brain after you sat there for a while and processed his words. You felt your stomach get fluttery and your bottom lip pushed out in a bit of a pout. You needed to get to him as soon as possible.

As much as your body didn’t want to, your mind convinced it to drag itself out of bed and go down the hall to Logan’s room. You knocked while holding your favorite stuffed animal against your chest. You felt a bit nervous seeking out his affection and care after you completely ignored him. Realistically, you’d probably end up crying if you didn’t get what your heart ached for.

Your slightly trembling hand reached to knock on his door. “Papa? Can I come in, please? I want cuddles,” you called to him. Logan smiled to himself softly. Mostly because you finally came to talk to him, but also because he loved caring for you when you regressed. “Yeah! You can open the door, babydoll. I ain’t doing anything,” he said with an optimistic tone. You giggled softly, your hand gripping your stuffed animal a little tighter out of excitement.

You peeked into his room before fully stepping in. Logan was lying on his bed, one leg on top of the other, cigar in hand, and wearing his usual attire. His hand scratched at his fluffy jaw while leaning his head against his forearm. He smiled when you made your way into his room. “Come on, kid. I might bite, but I won’t bite you,” he joked. He put out his cigar while exhaling deeply, the smoke curling up against his face.

His old bedframe squeaked as you climbed onto his mattress. “There you go, little one,” he cooed softly. He wrapped one arm around your side while the other rested on his stomach. A soft hum came from his throat as he carefully grabbed your stomach rolls. “My squishy little doll,” he whispered to you.

He loved feeling all the soft bits of your flesh. Anytime the two of you cuddled or had “sleepovers” in the living room, he’d grab a chunk of whatever he could. Your thighs, your stomach, your waist. Anything he could.

You curled up into his side, sandwiching your stuffed animal between you and Logan. “You brought a little friend with you. They’re so cute, aren’t they,” he asks sweetly. You smile and nod against his chest.

He reaches the hand that’s on his stomach to your thigh and moves it to rest on his hips. He pats the skin softly before he gives your thigh a good squeeze like he did to your stomach. “You are just so soft and amazing, kid. You know that,” he asks before kissing your forehead. You nod in agreement once more while letting out a soft squeak from all the affection. “Squishy, squishy, squishy,” he hums softly to you.

Logan nuzzles his face against the top of your head, his beard brushing your forehead gently. He keeps his hands where they are as they still slightly grasp your body. The two of you stay lying there for a moment. You can hear his heart beating steadily accompanied by his deep breathing. Wind whistles against the glass of Logan’s window. The sheets rustle every so often when he repositions his hand or kisses your forehead again. This whole moment almost lulls you back to sleep.

Until Logan gives you a little tickle. “Papa! That’s mean,” you pout softly. He chuckles at your disruption to the silence. “I’m sorry, doll! I couldn’t resist. You expect me to not do that when I’ve got my hand right here on your stomach,” he asks playfully while getting a tighter grasp on the flesh. You squeal at the feeling, unaware that he didn’t even mean to tickle you that time. Nonetheless, he keeps a playful grin on his face. He pats your side and sighs deeply. “How about some breakfast, kid?”

[auxfeed]

Open wide, pig. I know, you are dizzy. Everything you do is so exhausting, isn't it? Like... laying in bed, breathing, eating. I know, these are hard activities for you nowadays and I really wish for you, that it'll be all over soon. But until then, there's no other option but feeding you more. See, obviously you aren't at your max weight, because you do still live. So you haven't met your duty as my death feedee yet.

Let me just check those chains of yours, that I fixed you to the bedframe with. Great, they're still tight. I know, I know, we don't really need them anymore these days as you're bed-bound by your immobile, overfed body anyway. But you look so adorable to me with your wrists and ankles fixed to the bed 24/7. It just makes you look even more like my property, my plaything, my personal pig to store fat in.

So, here's the tube, piggy. Just wrap your greedy lips around it like always. Good pig, you are doing so well. It'll be pure lard this time. I melted it, so that there is a constant flow down your throat, and added a ton of sugar to it, so your arteries can clogg more again. I always liked the fact that there are animals who are fattened on purpose and are killed, when they are fat enough, only to produce meat and lard, which is then used to feed pigs like you with. Maybe that's why the scale already reads 982lbs. Maybe it's also the reason that you are completely immobile since years now.

Don't worry, t'll all be over soon just like we planned. Let me be honest: with your bad and declining health and that sheer amount of fat hanging off your body, laying infront of you on your matress and torturing your heart and lungs, you won't consume too much pig-lard any more. Maybe just a couple of gallons until that little blubber-wrapped heart of yours quits working and gives your poor life into deaths' cold hands. Don't act like you are shocked, I know you want it to happen, too, you fat, greedy hog. Who will die soon from it's gluttony? Yes, little piggy will. So, what about swallowing a bit faster for me, huh?

(The idea for this text came from a follower, whom I'd like to thank at this point. Just send me your story idea (death feederism related) and I'll try to write a story.)

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the downpour

lilac, chapter seven

a/n: everybody, calm down! deep breath! because it's happening!!!

summary: “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, lumberjack AU, pete castiglione era, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, slow burn, renovating an inn, real name reveal, kissing, only one bed, rain and thunder

word count: 2400

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Gently clamping down on the break, your bike slowly rolled to a stop.

“Pete!” you hopped off before the bicycle had come to a complete standstill, “hi!”

Craning his head out from under the hood of his truck, a faint smile appeared upon the burly man’s lips as he greeted, “hey,” seemingly taken aback by your arrival, riding through the forest just as the sun had nearly set completely.

Glancing to the twisted innards of his vehicle, you exhaled, “oh no, what’s wrong with your car?”

Seizing a dirtied rag that hung over the top, Pete then wiped his grease-covered hands with it, “I haven’t gotten to the bottom of it quite yet,” blinking down at his broad palms as he cleaned the viscous substance off them. 

“Is there like some car illness going around here or something?” you joked as your heel popped out the stand on your bicycle, balancing it before you stepped closer to the lumberjack. 

“What, is yours still at the shop? It’s been months!”

“It’s something about a specific part not being in production anymore so they had a really hard time finding it,” you grumbled, “and then they finally did but it’s coming all the way from Germany and it’s just a whole thing…”

Sliding your fingers into your pockets, exhaling slowly as you let the infuriating car trouble simmer back down, you heard Pete ask, “so, did you just come over here, late at night, to talk about cars?”

“Well, it is my absolute favourite subject ever,” you joked, adding sarcastically, “I know just so much about cars…” blinking up into his dark eyes, you then let the antic fade away, “no, I just finally measured those rooms and it turns out they are both big enough for double beds.”

“Oh, great,” his eyebrows rose softly in recognition. 

“I’m really sorry it took this long,” you averted your gaze, looking to the grass below as your fingers found an old and crumbled shopping list at the very bottom of your jacket’s pocket, “it was so kind of you to offer to make some new furniture for the place, I should have given you all the information needed so much earlier.”

“It's fine, it’s just a few bedframes, some shelves and such, nothing fancy,” he calmed your edgy nervous system, “I’ve gotten plenty done already without knowing all the information, but now that I do, I can finish, so thank you,” dipping his head a little lover to catch your gaze, he then offered graciously, “you wanna take a look? It’s not done yet, but it might give you an idea.” 

“Yeah, sure,” the smile that blossomed on your lips was impossible to hide, following his long stride as he marched into the open shed-like structure just behind where the car was parked. To the immediate right, tall stacks of firewood laid to cure, a dark tarp draped over one of the piles, but the earthy scent your nose picked up on was heavenly and caused a bit of tenseness, you hadn’t noticed haunted your shoulders, to fade away. 

“So, I cut out the side panels, legs and such for the beds since I didn’t know how wide they needed to be,” your vision flickered away from the various tools that hung up on peg boards on one of the walls, and fixated instead on the planks of well-carved wood that Pete presented, lifting one of them a few inches off the work table for you to take a look, “but this is kinda what’s going on so far, still need to sand it a bit more, put a stain on it, of course assemble it, but yeah, I hope this can work.”

“Wow, wait,” you craned down, pushing your wide eyes closer to the unfinished yet beautifully crafted pieces, “you made this?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged softly, “I mean, I can change it if you don’t like it–”

“I was fully expecting you just slap a few two-by-fours together and call it a bed,” you interrupted, momentarily tearing your eyes away from the timber to stress, “happily so might I add, but this is like actual furniture…” your fingers ghosted over the smoothed surface, “you’re really good at this.”

“Well, I do work with wood for a living,” he joked, head cocking to the side. 

“Do you sell these kinds of things?”

“No, no,” he glanced down at the way the fingernail on his thumb was absentmindedly digging into the opposing palm, “stuff like this is just a way to keep my hands busy.” 

“Well,” you glanced up into his eyes, “if you wanted to then you could easily make a pretty penny…” a gentle smile accompanied your genuine compliment, his own lips swiftly mirroring the same curve as he let out a wispy exhale. 

Just then, a crack of thunder echoed from somewhere in the distance. Whipping your head around to glance out the wide-open door, it took mere seconds for the abrupt rain to go from a gentle drizzle to a violent downpour. 

“Oh my god,” your feet carried you a few meters, shoulders jumping faintly as another bolt of lightning shot out from the dark clouds above. 

Eyes too glued to the skies, you felt Pete’s touch find your shoulder as he uttered, “we should probably head inside.”

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly, “good idea,” before your feet practically sprinted all the way up to the cabin’s humble porch, like a small child in the middle of the night, scared of whatever shadow monsters you thought to be real. Heading in first, Pete was right on your tail as you held the front door open a moment for him, swiftly slamming it shut behind him as giddiness coursed through your veins, “oh my goodness,” you squealed, curling your toes in your wet shoes, “I had no idea it was gonna rain!” casting your vision out the window, you let out an enchanted gasp as you spotted another thunderous bolt appear, “oh, Pete, look! That was such a close one,” your fingers found the windowsill as you muttered in amazement, “man, I can’t for the life of me remember the last time it thundered, nevertheless this much,” not glancing back at the silent figure leaning against the kitchen counter, you asked him, “can you?”

Not truly present, you then heard him utter, “…Frank.”

“Huh?” you finally glanced back at him, noticing how sombre his features suddenly were. 

“My name,” he breathed, noticeably having trouble looking you in the eye, “it’s not Pete, it’s Frank.”

“What?” you blinked, the thrilling weather abruptly forgotten, “what do you mean your name is Frank?”

As you gently inched closer, perplexity muddling your features, he hesitantly shared, “I did some shit, things that some people high up doesn’t want the public to know about, so I get to be Pete while they get to not be humiliated by their own actions.”

Lips slightly parted, a dazed breath escaped your lungs, “I–…” utterly stunned, your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to comprehend the bomb he’d just dropped, “alright… alright…” a headache nearly plagued your cranium from how tensely your eyebrows were knitted together, “I-I don’t know what say,” you squinted back at the man before you, “no one’s ever–… wow… your name is Frank?” he hesitantly offered you a light nod in confirmation, “Frank… Frank…” you heard yourself hazily repeat, tasting the new, and oddly fitting, name on your tongue. 

He didn’t utter a single word as you just stood there, doing your best to digest the staggering information. 

It took a long time for you to hear the rumbling rain again, your whole body frozen as you tried to relearn what was up and what was down. 

You had no idea how long the deafening silence drew out. Could have been a whole week for all you knew. But when your lips eventually parted once more, the breathless words that then spilt out couldn’t help but come straight from your heart. 

“You–… you scare me…” catching his weary gaze, you uttered with glossy eyes, “the way that you make me feel, that scares me so much…” your tainted track record caused your body to feel as if you could faint at any moment, “I didn’t expect–, I certainly didn’t plan for this, any of this, you. I didn’t expect you to–…” the rest of your confession then faded away as the boldness of what soon fluttered out of you took even you by surprise, “can–… can I kiss you?” scarcely drawing breath as you glanced back at him in apprehension, “because I really can’t tell if it’s okay or not, if you–” 

Seizing your fretful face in his hands, Frank promptly drew you in and drowned out the paralyzing worries that fluttered your system as his lips pressed against your own. 

You heard him draw in a deep breath through his nose, as if it was the very first oxygen he had let his lungs have in a whole lifetime. Your shoulders swiftly relaxed, noticeably dropping beneath where his rough palms gently cupped your flush cheeks, not only handling you, but kissing you as if you were made out of glass. 

As you eventually felt him gently draw back, you couldn’t help but dive back in, clutching his shirt and crashing your lips back against his in a kiss so fierce you nearly lost your footing. 

When you finally did part ways, you felt Frank’s broad thumb trace your bottom lip, staring at it a moment before his enchanted eye flicked up to meet yours.

Breathless and absolutely spellbound, gazing back at him, you eventually heard yourself utter barely above a whisper, “…the–, the rain…” you felt his heavy breath fan across your blush, “I should probably wait it out…” the undertaking of letting go of the soft cotton of his shirt seemed an impossible task, “might be dangerous riding home in this weather, especially on the tiny paths I’d have to take, they get so muddy, and it gets too easy to just slip and fall and if it happens at some of the areas that are kind of cliffy, then it could quickly turn into something bad…” you rambled as it felt like his gaze pierced directly into your soul, “and also the lightning? I don’t know about you, but I don’t wanna get stuck, that doesn’t sound very nice…”

“Might not be over till morning, though…” he pointed out, “you’re welcome to just sleep here if you want, I mean, nothing like that,” he reeled back a bit, wincing at the unintentional innuendo, “I wasn’t insinuating–,” but the end of his sentence didn’t get a chance to see the light of day as you raised yourself up onto your tip toes and planted a kiss of not only gratitude against his soft lips. 

The low groan that then rumbled deep within his throat sent a dizzying flutter down your abdomen, all collecting right between your thighs. As your lips consequently parted to let out a foggy whimper, you felt his nature instinctively seize the opportunity and sneak his tongue in to explore your own, intoxicatingly dancing, savouring your taste, as his hands began to wander, attempting to pull your form as close to him as physically possible.

At first, you thought you’d fallen, but then when you felt the cool counter beneath your bottom, you realized that he’d hoisted you up there, slotting himself in between your parted limbs as you held onto the sides of his face, fingers weaving into his scraggly beard. 

Panting, your chin abruptly tilted to the side, denying yourself of anymore before you got too far to be able to stop yourself. Eyes only half open, you felt his bulbous nose stay pressed against your cheek, lingering in your warmth for as long as he could.

“It’s getting late,” you breathed heavily, steadying yourself with a hand on either side of his broad shoulders, “we should probably go to sleep…”

As your neck began to straighten back out, his answer washed over you, sounding just as hazy as you had, “right,” one of his palms absentmindedly brushed the wild hair out of your face as you parted ways, “yeah…” pupils eclipsing the warmth of his eyes, you watched as he drew in on last breath before enclosing his grasp around your waist, helping you back down onto the floor, “you go on and take the bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No way,” a breathless chuckle bubbled out of you as you shook your head, “I’ll take the couch, I insist, I can’t put you out like that. I’m shorter than you anyway, so I’ll fit better,” you reached back to grasp the table behind you just in case the room decided to spin out from under you, “and if you give me your bed then I’ll just purposely stay up all night, not even sleep a second. So, if you want me to get some rest, then let me take the couch.”

Gazing back at you, a faint smile then warmed his features, “alright,” the vision not helping in the slightest at settling the butterflies in your stomach. 

“Do you maybe have a shirt or something I could borrow? Just so that I don’t sleep in damp clothes…” 

“Oh yeah,” the tiny task seemingly helped to take the edge off of Frank’s own fuzzy high, “I’ll, uhm…” he turned his back to you and wandered a few paces before he entered the far room, stopping before the tall wooden wardrobe visible from the doorway. Like his shadow, you slowly followed him, stopping just in the opening as you watched him pull out a black, folded-up item of clothing, “here,” he turned and handed the worn t-shirt to you, his touch lingering just a second, fingertips ghosting against the back for your palm. 

“Thank you, Frank,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around it and hugging it close to your chest like a teddy bear. 

“No problem,” your eyes briefly flickered to the bed in the corner of the room, juxtaposing crumbled linen sprawled atop the twisted iron frame made for quite the inviting image, even if you didn’t account for the actual dream that slumbered there every night, “the, uh, the bathroom is right through there, so you can just–, while I find you some blankets and such.”

© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[vi-for-vendetta]

I want to be peacefully minding my own business, perhaps overconfidently walking home a bit late at night in something a bit too revealing for wandering eyes. Then, just as I let my guard down entirely, someone will come up behind me, slap their hand over my mouth and begin to tie me up.

I can't tell if it's more than one set of hands, all I know is that I'm being gagged and bound as I'm thrown in the back of a van. I'm blindfolded and carted off somewhere, my tied up body tossed onto a bed, maybe it's just a mattress on the floor, as if I was nothing more than a coat being discarded at the end of the day.

I'm still blindfolded as I'm tied into a new position against what I'm sure now must be a bed with a bedframe. My arms are tied over my head, as if to either side of a headboard. My ankles quickly follow as my legs are kicked over my head and tied to the same place my wrists have been.

My blindfold is peeled off and I can see I'm in some dark basement room, surrounded by masked men and women with their dicks out.

"Try to scream and you'll regret it."

My gag is removed and I'm too stunned to talk, my mouth is agape in shock.

"Look at her, already ready for her job!" I hear another voice say.

Before I can process what's happening, a cock is shoved in my mouth. I gag hard, it's too big to fit, but the person straddled over my face is determined to get it all the way in. I cry, I think I'm going to vomit, there's no way it can get in any further. But then, the person forces themselves past the barrier of my throat and gets balls deep into my mouth.

I whimper.

Just as I think I am able to process the sensations that come with the assault on my mouth, I feel hands all over my body.

A firm hand spanks my ass.

Calloused fingers tug at and twist my nipples.

Fingers curl inside my wet cunt.

"God, she's already soaked, she must love this!"

"I bet this is what she's always dreamed of."

I hum something, maybe a hum of protestation, against the cock in my mouth. It does nothing but make the person on top of me moan and thrust harder.

"Keep doing that, baby."

For some reason, I comply. I keep moaning. Am I really getting pleasure from this like they said?

I feel something like a marker dance across my thigh, my tits, over my womb. I have no idea what it says, but the people writing on me sure seems amused.

Then, the person in my mouth starts to buck against me faster.

"I'm gonna cum, baby, keep that pretty mouth tight against me. That's it. Just like that."

He's close. I'm frightened to think what him cumming so deep in my throat will feel like, but before I can give it much thought, he's pumping me with his seed, and someone else is shoving their cock into my pussy.

I scream against the cock in my mouth. Who ever stuffed my cunt is far too big to be in there.

It hurts.

Before I can protest, the man on top of me hops off, adds a tally on my tits, and slaps me on the face.

"Good job, slut."

Another person quickly takes his place.

The person fucking my cunt moves faster, in rhythm with the person my mouth.

My brain goes fuzzy.

"Let me try something," I hear a voice in the distance say. Then, all of a sudden, my nipples are being stabbed with something. I scream, but it's once again muffled by a cock.

"There, she looks so much better with little cow rings in her."

My nipples have been pierced and I can tell they're ring shaped, because someone instantly starts to pull on them.

There's a sharp slap against my pussy from the person fucking my cunt, "Why don't we put on here, too?"

I shake my head in protest. The room fills with laughter. And before it subsides, I have a clit piercing. Another little ring to be tugged on.

My vision begins to go fuzzy from all of the pain, or maybe it's pleasure, and I fade out of consciousness.

I wake to the sharp sting of someone forcing their cock into my virgin ass hole.

I scream, for the first time unmuffled by a cock, but that quickly changes as a wad of fabric is stuffed in my mouth.

This goes on for what feels like days, but it very well could've been just a few hours.

But now each time I come back to consciousness, there are less screams, more moans. I buck my hips against the people fucking my now gaping cunt and ass. I swirl my tongue against the cocks in my mouth, I thank people after they've cum in me.

My body is covered in tallies keeping track of how many times people have cum in my mouth, my ass, and my cunt. There's also a tally of how many times I've cum. It's a shockingly large tally. I don't remember cumming that much, maybe at all.

But I don't care, I love the feeling of cum dripping out of me. I crave it now.

I stick out my tongue for the next cock, I wiggle my ass towards the people at the end of the bed, hoping to beckon them to my holes.

After god knows how long, my belly begins to swell and my tits fill with milk. My captors now take pleasure in drinking from me and feeding me my own milk.

I only respond to them in nods of pleasure and sharp yeses now, so they get bolder with truly using me to explore all their desires.

I'm told to open my mouth, of course I oblige. Hot piss steams into my mouth, over my tits.

Someone in the background apparently loves the look of this and decides to join. My mouth and chest become a group urinal.

The person fucking my ass then makes their perpetual presence known by pissing in my ass hole. The sensation is unlike anything I've ever felt.

I love it. I moan and swallow the piss in my mouth. The room fills with laughter.

"My god, she's such a fucking whore!"

"I think I'm in love!"

"This bitch is perfect!"

It's music to my ears.

I want to stay like this forever.

[piggyinthemiddle]

You are growing so well, I love watching you getting so ridiculously fat. Youve eaten yourself into such an obedient, wobbly pig. 🐷💓

A question : Are you close to immobility yet? In some videos I had seen on snapchat before, it looked like you could barely stand some days due to your huge lardfilled gut. If not, how long do you think you'll be able to push through until you can no longer walk?

Well thank you first of all, that's exactly what I needed to hear today. Happy to show off for you and the others as I grow even bigger!! ❤️🐽

And: unfortunately not as close as I'd love to be already! I'm definitely struggling a lot, you are right, I have times of the day where standing/walking is ridiculously hard. My gut is rounding out at the top and the underbelly is sagging downward, sometimes I barely manage to roll out of bed and waddle to the bathroom because I feel like my knees are about to give in. But sadly I guess to reach immobility, I first need to fill out my bedframe.. I've seen hogs twice my size on here and they still walk a little bit somehow. Damn it.

HOWEVER if someone volunteered to lock me in a pen and fatten me up until I'm pen-sized, I wouldn't complain. I'm just saying, hint hint. 😂🐽

[captain-mj]

Write the vampire muzzle fic >:)

Okay! And because some people asked Vampire Soap Fic

Ghost didn't understand the big deal. Soap had bit him before with no issue. He supposed those were usually very controlled, gentle nips. That day, something must've been different. Whether Soap was just more worked up or hungry, but he had sank his teeth into Ghost, deep and hard enough that each individual tooth could be seen. It had taken a few minutes to staunch the bleeding and his poor boyfriend was so distraught about it. Soap had also seen the marks on Ghost’s back from his nails and Ghost was very, very glad that he hadn’t see the bruises from that one time he had been on top and Ghost had handprints on his thighs. 

So they came to this solution. Well, Soap did. Ghost still thought he was overreacting.

That being said, the leather muzzle on Soap’s face was… alluring. It connected to his collar that had a ring on it. Hypothetically, it would connect to a leash, but Ghost had drawn the line there. He wasn’t going to put his boyfriend on a leash because he was nervous about biting him. His hands were tied to the bedframe with the handcuffs from the same leather set. 

“Are you okay?” Ghost wanted to check in, gently checking that nothing was too tight. 

“I’m fine. I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“It was a simple bite.” 

Soap pointed to the scar on Ghost’s shoulder. “It’s still there. I can’t risk you, Simon.” 

Ghost ignored the warmth that gave him, instead kissing his hair. He tugged the little ring, watching Soap’s pale skin flush just a little. Soap had already been stripped down. All on display for him. For Ghost. 

Ghost rubbed his chest gently, warming the skin underneath it. Soap, now that he wasn’t worried about it, moaned and bared his teeth. Long fangs sticking out from where his canines would be. 

Ghost slid his hands down his body. “You’re so cold. Always like it.”

“You’re so warm. Come on, hurry up. Need you in me.”

“No. I want to take my time.” He squeezed him gently. “Gonna take you apart and you’re going to sit here and look pretty.”

Soap groaned and tried to press into him, but he was still worried, not wanting to push Ghost in case he hurt him. 

Ghost kissed along the inside of his thighs before sinking his teeth in to him. He wished he could cut into him the same Soap could. His tongue laved over the spot before he bit again. He scratched down his thighs and felt Soap arch underneath him. 

Ghost forced Soap’s legs further open and licked up his cock, keeping eye contact with Soap as he did. 

“Simon…”

Ghost grinned and dipped down and licked over his hole. His tongue pushed gently into him, surprised by how tight he felt. No matter how rough he was, Soap always bounced back so quickly. Such a tight, cold fucking pressure. 

Soap whimpered and whined as his legs thrashed. His thighs clamped around Ghost’s head, trying to encourage him to do more. Ghost was a cruel bastard though and watching Soap struggle against his binds, leather digging into this throat, was making him want to be a bit mean. He doubted Soap would mind. 

So he sat there, holding his legs open and enjoying him. Lightly pressing his tongue inside before licking up his cock. His fingers teased his rim when he focused on his cock and his slit while he was focused on his hole, very carefully skating between enough stimulation to keep him interested and not nearly enough to get him close. 

Spit and precum covered the inside of his thighs as he refused to let up, watching Soap try to escape even more now. 

“Simon…’ Soap whimpered out. 

“Johnny, do you want to be let out?”

“No. Gotta…” he panted for a second, steeling himself, “gotta keep you safe, Lt.”

Ghost shook his head. “You’re ridiculous.” He eventually got bored of his relentless teasing, watching the relief on Soap’s face when he grabbed the lube. Starting with one finger, he worked him open. He didn’t bother with gentle, but he did go rather slow, watching as Soap’s muscles flexed and tensed to try to get him further in. 

“Please. Please.” Soap whimpered out. Like always, the cold caught Ghost off guard. It wasn’t cold like ice. More like porcelain or rocks. Soap’s body didn’t withhold heat for very long. Ghost twisted his fingers gently and tried to press in deeper. He managed to fit another finger in and curled them slowly, feeling Soap shudder happily. 

Ghost slowly worked him up more and more, scissoring his fingers and getting more open. He pushed his tongue in with him and licked into him while his fingers pushed in deeper. 

Soap squeezed around his head again, whimpering. He cut his lip, blood gently dripping down his chin. Ghost would have to think of a solution for that. He’d rather have Johnny bit him than himself. 

That didn’t stop him from continuing to drag this part out too. Watching his lover fall apart, blue eyes never leave his. Finally, Ghost conceded, too horny to keep teasing. He forced Soap’s knees to his chest and poured more lube over his hole before coating his cock in it. 

Soap steeled himself for more teasing and Ghost shoved in roughly, catching him off guard. He cried out and squirmed, legs moving to wrap around Ghost’s hips. Ghost put one hand on the wall above his head and the other on the bed next to him and pounded into him. 

Soap leaned up for a kiss and Ghost obliged by kissing his hair. He grabbed the little ring on the collar and forced his head back. Soap tried to escape his gaze, but Ghost wouldn’t let him. Tears were filling his eyes but Ghost wasn’t sure if it was from the rough treatment or the teasing or even just the embarrassment. 

“Johnny. I know you’d never hurt me.” 

Soap shook his head frantically and his eyes rolled back when Ghost hit his prostate dead on. 

“Oh, love. You’re fucking gorgeous.” He twisted the ring so the collar tightened. Soap flushed and relaxed a little, pressing back against each thrust. His little whimpers faded into proper moans but he still looked wrecked. 

Ghost reached up and grabbed the front of the muzzle, moving his hand to make him shake his head. Soap’s tongue immediately pressed against his fingers, licking over them desperately. 

“Good boy.” Ghost purred and Soap clenched around him. “Held out for me so well. Go ahead and come for me, love.” 

Soap moaned and nodded, trying to press closer to him before his whole body tensed. He came hard and started to go limp. Overstimulation must’ve him hard because he was properly sobbing soon after, though his legs still stayed around his hips. 

Ghost took his time, knowing Soap would stop him if it became too much. He buried himself deep in him and came, loving the slow lazy smile Soap gave him when he did. 

“You’re wearing the muzzle and collar more.”

“Yes, sir.”

[punsmaster69]

27/NOV/20XX

returning home, the first thing i noticed is that the place is.. impossibly clean.

even the couch stopped jingling with loose change.

oddly, my bedsheets are also on the couch, folded neatly with my pillows on top.

"OH! SORRY. I DIDN'T GET THE CHANCE TO MOVE THEM BACK BEFORE LEAVING."

"why were they down here to begin with?"

"BECAUSE THAT'S WHERE YOU WERE."

"thought i... remembered being in my room, but maybe i shouldn't rely on my memory there."

"THAT'S ALSO TRUE."

"I DIDN'T WANT TO JUST KEEP YOU IN ONE PLACE THE WHOLE TIME."

"...."

"you lugged me around like a corpse?"

"DON'T PUT IT LIKE 𝘛𝘏𝘈𝘛..."

"...I APPRECIATE IT, BUT WHY THE SUDDEN HUG?"

"don't look at my face for a minute, ok?"

"...?"

he didn't listen, and quietly moved to see my face.

"..?!"

"WHAT DID I DO??"

"make me feel like a big crybaby, 's what."

"I'M SORRY. I DIDN'T MEAN TO-"

"i know."

"I'M SORRY."

"stop apologizing, paps."

"SORRY."

"I MEAN- NOT-"

"........."

silently, he just tightened his embrace.

"IT'S BEEN... HOW MANY YEARS SINCE THIS LAST HAPPENED?"

papyrus answered himself.

"MANY."

"THIS ONLY BEING THE SECOND TIME IN SO LONG.. AND YOU WEREN'T EVEN AWAKE FOR THE FIRST."

i touched my face. a few pathetic droplets were the extent of it.

"..hardly counts, does it?"

"I'M COUNTING IT."

"ok."

"AND I'M GOING TO TELL EVERYONE HOW MUCH YOU CRIED AND CRIED, FOR HOURS..."

"you picked up sarcasm while i was out, huh?"

"..REALLY? DID I?"

"a little."

"OH, NO!"

"NEXT THING YOU KNOW, I'M GOING TO BE MAKING TERRIBLE PUNS WITH WORSE TIMING!!"

"nah, probably wouldn't go that far. i don't 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 you as the type to do all that."

"HOUR-NESTLY, WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU?"

"...EGH."

"NOT GOOD."

"it was alright."

"puns take a 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘥 to get used to making."

"careful, though. once you start, it's hard to stop."

"I THINK I'VE HAD ENOUGH 𝘈𝘓𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘠.."

——

"........"

"uh."

ok.

papyrus had off-handedly mentioned that i sleep on a floor mattress to tori once, right?

which is good enough for me, but tori promptly gifted me a bedframe that gyftmas.

christmas? gyftmas?

hell if i know what to call it anymore.

anyway, this was at least last year or so.

and last i knew, i still hadn't put the frame together.

putting it under my mattress like a platform worked all the same.

another un-built box i've had since snowdin is this nightstand/dresser thing i got one time.

it also works the same in-box, y'know. why bother?

...they're assembled now.

my room is clean.

there's no trash tornado.

even the clothes i normally toss about with disregard are neatly tucked away and folded into appropriate drawers.

"..wow."

"....."

"why?"

"NO RECENTLY-HOSPITALIZED BROTHER OF MINE IS SLEEPING ON THE FLOOR! ESPECIALLY NOT THE FLOOR THAT WAS COVERED IN TRASH."

"it was-"

"DON'T SAY IT."

"NO MORE SAYING THINGS ARE 'FINE'."

"ok."

"looks nice though, paps."

"thanks for doing all this."

"although..."

i re-checked the living room.

...

ok, nevermind. there's one non-clean thing.

the sock is still there.

——

we got my stuff from the couch, and set everything back on my (recently-assembled) bed.

"ISN'T IT MORE COMFORTABLE?"

"don't think i can get back up."

"SEE HOW MUCH NICER ACTUALLY-"

"i'm like a bicycle."

"I-"

"WHAT??"

"...i'm two-tired."

papyrus just sighed and clicked the lights off.

"GOODNIGHT THEN, SANS."

"night, bro."

the lights being off made papyrus appear as nothing more than a silhouette.

a silhouette that remains in the doorframe for a bit longer than usual.

"..PLEASE WAKE UP TOMORROW."

with that, he shut the door, darkening my room to the only light being what little spilled in underneath the door.

my soul has felt like a big bruise since waking up today, and that...

felt like someone punching said bruise.

——

..i think he's realized my lights are back on.

welp. wanted to stop writing, anyway.

—

heya papyrus.

- sans.

—

—

SLEEP, SANS.

P.S.

WHY DID YOU BOTHER WITH A NOTE? I'M NOT HANDING THIS BACK TONIGHT. YOU WON'T EVEN SEE IT UNTIL TOMORROW.

- PAPYRUS

—

[peachymilkandcream]

Written In Blood|Part 12|Modern Yandere Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, graphic descriptions of violence, domestic violence, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere behaviour/themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, wishing rape upon someone, misogyny, mentions of child abuse, blackmail, revenge porn, etc.

================================================

Unlike in her novels, Evelyn's return to the conscious from the subconscious wasn't a violent jolt in a cold sweat. Instead it was like slowly coming out of good dream. It was soft, the sheets and pillows around her perfectly warm and the sun coaxing her eyelids to open.

A warm hand on her cheek gently caressed her face. "It's time to get up."

She stretched, opening her eyes and taking in the surroundings with some confusion. As if trying to place where she was. This was somewhere she hadn't been before, everything about it was strange and unfamiliar.

Levi's face hovered over hers, a smug expression on his face. "Seems like you got your beauty rest."

"What's going on-"

"Nothing to worry about. You're fine, everything's fine."

She tries to get out of bed, before noticing the handcuffs restraining her one hand to the bedframe.

In a sudden jolt of panic she pulls at it furiously, trying to free herself, but the metal just cuts into her skin.

"Stop that. You're just going to make it worse for yourself. Calm down and stop acting like a damn brat." He stills her hand with his with such power more terror runs through her.

"What kind of sick joke is this Levi?"

Now he stands, rolling up his sleeves and crossing his arms to stare at her. "It's no joke, that I can promise."

"Okay then tell me what's going on what the fuck are you thinking!?"

Anger flashes across his face briefly. "Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" Before he takes a breath and calms. "I know you don't understand. But this is for your own good. Look at yourself, you can barely handle a little scandal, you break down over some asshole leaving you. You're not fit to keep going this way, making your own decisions, being your own person. Clearly when left to your own devices? You turn out to be a shitty human."

A look of indignation comes across her face, but he doesn't let her interrupt.

"You need a man, one who will make all the hard decisions for you. Doesn't a life where you only have to worry about writing sound appealing? You'll never have to decide where to go, what to wear, what to eat, or when you'll settle down and have brats of your own. It's all decided for you, a perfect and neat little plan."

"That sounds horrible-"

"Which I know is what you're inclined to believe now, so I took the liberty of making the decision for you. I brought you here, and I know you'll be a bit feisty to start, giving up your freedom takes time. But in the end I believe you'll see that in doing this I'm giving you complete freedom."

"You sick bastard- just let me go and we can pretend this never happened, but I'll only give you that chance once."

Again a look of anger crosses his face, but he's able to calm himself. "I hope you understand how generous I'm being with you right now. I would never let any woman, let alone my woman, talk to me like that. But since this is all new for you, I'll give you this chance to get it all out of your system so the next time you understand to shut the fuck up."

"I'll never be anything for you! You creep- you let that stalker walk away free because you're a lying, conniving, manipulative- freak!"

In that moment Levi grabs her jaw so hard she swears she could hear it crack beneath his fingers. "A freak huh? That's what you think I am, is that right? Fine. I'll show you what it means to be a freak."

Levi locks his face in with Evelyn's, kissing her roughly and aggressively before pushing her down on the bed.

================================================

Evelyn had thought her body, like her, would reject this monster with every fiber of its being, forcing out the poison.

But instead here it was dripping with arousal while he pounded into her.

Her legs were up by his shoulders and his sweat dripped on her chest while the sounds of wet skin slapping together filled the room along with her muffled cries.

His fingers rubbed at her clit, not to give her pleasure, but to watch with fascination when her legs twitched and jumped from the stimulus, reminding him once again that no matter what the situation, he had an otherworldly affect on women. Even the most stubborn ones like Evelyn submitted in body to him in one way or another.

When Levi finally climaxed he made sure to pull out quickly and shoot his cum on her stomach, muttering to himself. "Not yet, not yet-"

He marveled in the masterpiece he had just created, taking a second to take it in before reaching over and unlocking her handcuff. "You have three minutes to clean yourself and do what you need. I'm being merciful to you here so don't make me regret it."

As she stood, a solemn expression on her face, in that moment he turned away, unable to look at her dejected expression without annoyance for her overreaction.

However he didn't see her pick up the book on his bedside table and start to bring it down on his head.

[nsfwordwitch]

Kinktober 2023 Day 28

Prompt: Body Worship

Pairing: Astarion x nonbinary tiefling Tav

1541 Words

🔞Adults Only Blog🔞

Astarion finds Weft kneeling on the floor of their temporary home, Weft's family's country house, surrounded by haphazard piles of clothes. An uncharacteristic state. "What are you up to, darling?" he asks from the doorway. They look up at him in surprise.

"Going through the clothes I brought from home. Figuring out what I want to keep. Some of it doesn't really fit anymore, some of it is the sort of stuffy horseshit I wore while working. Some of it is stuff I wore when I went out partying." They gesture at the pile directly behind them, and Astarion spots some beautifully patterned fabrics.

"You have some lovely pieces here," he says, pushing things aside to crouch beside them.

"You're welcome to anything that fits."

"Hm." He picks through it, noting how little they care that he's ignoring their organization scheme. "Perhaps. Though I'm not interested in anything some stranger came onto."

They flinch. He may have gone too far. "So much of it just brings up bad memories. You know? And not just the party clothes. I think…I think I was having a really bad time, right before the tadpoling. Looking at all this just makes me think about how…worked up I got about the way people saw me. Um. What people thought of my body." They sigh and hold up a stately blue waistcoat. "It was my job to be likable. To make a good first impression, to be charming, to be everything to everybody. And to do all that, while looking like me."

"Darling," he says softly, and places a hand on their knee. "The way you look? It was only a help, surely."

"Oh, people were attracted to me, easy, but likability is an uphill climb when you're a tiefling. People see that first, and I had to work with it. And I always had to assume people knew about...." They gesture vaguely at their crotch. "I slept around enough it wasn't worth making a secret of it, so I went through life feeling like everyone saw me as a freak. It was a hurdle I had to overcome."

"Oh, nonsense, you love your body, you told me as much the first time I saw the whole thing."

"I love it, it looks like this because I want it to. It's everyone else who has mixed feelings."

"Well damn everyone else!" They blink at him in surprise, seeming to come out of a reverie. He puts a hand on their cheek. "You're not a freak. Well." He smirks. "You're a bit of a freak, but not for how you look." They stick their tongue out at him. "Your body is perfect, Weft. However you want to be, that's the way you should be."

They smile and knock their forehead into his. "I know. You're right. It's all just a bit much to face all at once. Remembering how things used to be just makes my skin crawl."

"Then forget the past." He presses on their knee and they turn toward him, away from the trunk of old clothes. He takes their hands in his. "You will never need to worry about a stranger's opinion of your body again, I swear it. With the usual caveats," he rolls his eyes and wriggles his head around, "unless I die tomorrow or get mind controlled again or you decide to leave me."

"Not if I can help it."

"No, and I pledge the same." He squeezes their hands. "Do you have any idea how insane you sound when you disparage your looks?"

They laugh. "I mean, I'm being realistic."

"You truly, literally are not."

"Come on."

"How can you be this in denial? Have you not looked in a mirror lately?"

"I have, that's why I'm feeling so wretched!"

"This room must have a curse on it, we should move to a different one." He stands and pulls them up with him, leaving the piles of clothes behind. They cross the hall into a matching bedroom, with only a bare mattress in the bedframe. He holds them still, a hand on each shoulder, and gives them a hard look. They smile sadly at him.

"Sorry, scenery change didn't do the trick." He clicks his tongue in frustration.

"My beloved. May I undress you?"

They hesitate. "You may."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. Sorry, I'm sure."

"I'll go first." They've both just been wearing different silk robes around the place, and he drops his to the floor and kicks it aside. He sees Weft's eyes rove his body and he thrills at it. He's so glad that he can be pleased by their attention again.

He reaches for their robe and they laugh. "Hold on, it's freezing in here." He turns and lights the fireplace with a spell. "Thank you. Alright, you may."

He steps close to them and draws a hand up the edge of their robe. Slowly, he slips their right shoulder bare and circles behind them. He presses his cheek to the wing-like ridges on their shoulder blade, and his hand continues around the collar of their robe. His other arm is wrapped around them, holding the robe in place on their chest. He places a series of kisses across their back, settling on their spine.

His free hand snakes into their robe in the front and he traces his fingertips across their right breast, making them shiver. "Do you know how remarkable you are, my love?" He squeezes, pressing his fingers into their soft flesh. They lean against him, the base of their tail on his pubic hair, and his cock twitches as it hardens. "There are so many people in this and every world, but not a single one is just like you."

He moves around them, letting their robe fall to the floor. "You, who took the body you had and made it the body you wanted." He takes a breast in each hand and draws his face between them, then back, with his tongue tracing a line that barely touches each nipple. His mouth travels to their sternum and he licks up the ridges of their chest, to the muscles leading to their neck, landing on his usual biting spot. He kisses softly at their never-quite-healed wounds. "Your marvelous, strong body, that's gotten you this far, and will get you further."

Their breathing gets heavy as he kneels down, his hands moving slowly over their stomach as he goes lower. He looks up at them from his position by their cock, and his hands trace over the bumps at their hips, the tattoos on their sides. He grips them tight. "Would you like me to show you how grateful I am to share your body?"

They take a shaky breath and thread their fingers into his hair. He leans into the touch, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Do you really want to, my darling? You aren't just doing it to make me feel better?"

He lets out a throaty laugh. "Do not ever doubt that I want one of us penetrating the other, dearest." He grins an impish grin at them and they laugh. "I'm not being metaphorical, Weft. I am truly grateful for your generosity, for all the sex certainly, but…your blood. The safety of your arms. A place beside you. You give me so much. I adore you, utterly." He sighs and leans against their thigh. "You should feel like the most beautiful person alive, because you are. I want to make you feel that way."

He feels a potent cocktail of love and lust rising in him, and he opens his mouth against their thigh, drawing his tongue across their skin. They let out a cry and press him closer. "Astarion, I want you to fuck me."

"Ah, gods, yes." He pulls them down to lay on the floor, guiding their legs around him. He rests their calves on his shoulders and reaches down to their entrance. His stomach flutters. How do they make him feel like every time is the first time? He teases at the entrance, and gets their tail curling around his ankle as a reward.

His eyes are locked on theirs, and they're panting, watching him. His chest feels like it may burst. He thrusts his cock into them and they both moan at once. Their hands move to their breasts, massaging them. The sight makes his head spin and he thrusts into them harder.

"Don't hold back," Weft cries. "I want to make you come."

"Weft," he whines, nothing else to say, just needing to say their name. They're moaning below him, rocking into his motions. He gets lost in the feeling of them around him, their soft backside landing against his hip bones and their legs so close to his face.

He comes into them with a shudder, and they gasp in pleasure when he does. They slip their legs off his shoulders and slide off his cock, then roll up to pull him into their arms. He melts into their embrace, buries his nose in their neck.

"I love you," he mumbles into them. "That's all I wanted to say. That's what I wanted you to know."

"I do. Gods I swear I do."

[themotherofhorses]

you can pretend it's not meant to be (but you can't stay away from me)

summary: to you, he is fictional. but to him, you are everything and more. he can't live without you. and, really, there is no use in trying to run away, he'll always find you.

pairing: (somewhat) dark!aemond targaryen x fem!reader

warnings: explicit language. noncon to dubcon. abduction. massive obsessive tendencies on aemond's part. breeding kink. slight spitting kink. pregnancy.

note: hey this is me practicing writing smut because ive never ever done it before and i don't know jackshit like wtf is a dick hahaha im dreading posting this hahahasendhelpplshaha

masterlist | series masterlist

part two | part three | part four | part five

How did you end up here?

That was all you could ask yourself, over and over again.

It had only been hours ago, maybe, that you were sitting at home, rewatching the first season of House of the Dragon for what seemed to be the thousandth time. Perhaps you dozed off on the couch too, but that was it. You have heard of shifting techniques before- ways to visit your favorite fictional worlds- but you never sought to try them out yourself.

College left you too busy with assignments and textbook readings, as well as the constant and unwavering pressure to maintain both your scholarships and high GPA.

Ever the dutiful and driven daughter, hungry for academic validation and success.

Oh, fuck, your scholarships!

Your GPA!

All those assignments and discussions and exams!

And what about your family? Your mother and father? And your best friend?

Aemond Targaryen seems not to understand your words, and why you tell, beg, and plead for him to let you go. “Please, I need to go home,” you cry loudly, while yanking at the thick knots that bound you to his bedframe, “please! My family, my friends. They will be worrying when they don’t hear from me, and all my hard work and accomplishments, it will be for nothing! Please, I beg you, let me go home.”

But he just chuckles and kisses your forehead and says, “Oh, my sweet girl, I’m your family now. Or what is of it.” His lips feel so soft and wonderful, and how desperately you wish to enjoy the feeling. But not like this. You cannot think properly nor muster any sort of response, too distracted and stressed and focused on calming your breathing.

“Although,” he then adds with a smirk, “it truly is not considered a family until you have a babe of your own…or two.”

At his words, you tremble and whimper and try your best to break free, though it is all in stupid and foolish vain. There is no going anywhere, the knots are too tight and Aemond can easily overpower you. All you can do is stare up at the man you once considered your favorite character in the series, ever since the eighth episode aired and he stole your heart and soul and burrowed himself deep within your most inner thoughts and fixation.

“Do not worry,” he says, and you can see a twinkle in the violet of his eye. He rests a hand on your collarbone, gently drawing little shapes across the skin. “Good things will come out of this night, my love, I promise you that.”

Look on the bright side, you tell yourself, in some dumb attempt to steel your nerves, better Aemond Targaryen to lose your virginity to.

“You need to be quieter, my darling-” Aemond murmurs close to your ear “-we do not need curious ears listening in, do we?” He has you riding him, both hands clutching your hips as you do your best to bounce on his cock and match his thrusts. You’re sloppy and inexperienced, and a bit confused on what exactly to do, but it is so endearing that his lips curl into a grin.

Oh, you were made for me, he thinks, watching the way your glazed-over eyes try to hold his gaze. He will have you believe that by the end of the night, dawning if necessary.

There is much rush now that he found you, now that he has the chance to claim you.

You still moan, loud and high-pitched, and he slaps a hand flat over your mouth to shut you up. It makes your pretty and teary eyes widen more as you grab at his wrist, holding onto it while he tuts. “I’ll move my hand when you learn to listen to your husband and stay quiet. No one is allowed to hear my wife in her pleasure. No one but I.” At that, you bat your eyelashes at him, breasts heaving as he leans you down, so close your lips nearly touch, and Aemond can feel your heavy pants against his mouth.

“They will take you away from me, and ship you far across the world where I can’t find you,” he hisses, pinching your swollen nipple between his fingers, “I can’t have that. No, no, do you hear me? I will not survive being torn from you.”

The mere thought of losing you, either at the hands of his mother and grandsire or you returning to your homeland, fills him with sheer dread.

He does not know how to tell you that you are the girl of his dreams, everything he has desired and more. He has seen you in his nighttime slumbers and in the gleam of the summer sunlight and up among the black midnight stars.

But the words fall apart on his tongue, and all he can do is lay beneath you and marvel at your beauty: cheekbones and pretty puffy lips and the curve of your nose, the way your eyebrows furrow in pure pleasure, and how you look utterly delicious and ruined.

“You were made for me,” he breathes in awe, palming at both your breasts. You have to believe him, this sweet and pretty girl of his, how could you not? The gods above created you for him, he will make you see it. “You are taking me so fucking well,” and Aemond flattens a palm against your belly, where he can feel the slight bulge of his cock. “Look at you, you’re my dream come true.” He thrusts his hips up, fucking into you harder and deeper. It makes you squeal and go cross-eyed.

“Is this too much? I know you can handle it, my darling. My love, my sweet girl,” he purrs.

Aemond swipes at the drool pooling at your lips before stuffing two fingers in. “Fuck,” he whines, breathing hard, slipping his other hand in between your thighs, and with his thumb, rubbing at your clit. Your face twists in a gasp as you tremble, your entire body tightening until you cream over his cock, your loud moan muffled by the fingers in your mouth.

“Good girl,” he hums, slowing his thrusts, “Such a good fucking girl. Look at that, did that feel good, my love?” he asks you.

You nod, rocking your hips back and forth. Your thighs shaking and your face scrunching in complete bliss as you start again, taking his cock deep in your stomach with tiny bounces. “Please- please- please-” you babble against his palm. “I-I want- I need-”

“Want what, my sweet girl? Need what, my darling wife?”

You don’t answer, too overtaken by the pleasure. Aemond chuckles and leans upwards, to bury his face between your breasts. You are absolutely stunning, gorgeous, a living goddess; how he went this long without you is baffling. “You wish for my seed. Is that what you want?” he mutters against your nipple, “of course you do, this belly is too empty, isn’t it? My son should be sleeping inside.” His fingers pinch your clit, and you gasp again. “You’ll be the prettiest mother. You were made to carry my children. You were made for me,” and he pulls your face back to his, with a rough grip on your chin.

“Tell me,” he demands through a pant, “tell me how fucking badly you need my seed. Tell me…tell me right now.”

“I- I need it-“ you choke out, but then you shake your head. “No- No I can’t! I- I need to go- go home!”

Aemond laughs, so hard he flings his head back. The sight takes you by surprise before he shoves you off, causing you to land next to him on the bed. You stare up at him, wide eyed and puzzled and swollen and covered in countless bites and bruises. In one swing, he forces your face into the pillow as he mounts you from behind, fucking you hard. His fingers return to your clit, squeezing and tweaking and not caring one bit about your muffled yelps and whines

“You’ll learn, my sweet girl, but perhaps not tonight. I am your home now, do you understand? I’m your family, your husband, and the father to your children.”

He grabs a fistful of damp hair and yanks your face back, never once slowing his thrusts. Your mouth is open with many moans spilling out, eyes clouded with tears, and cheeks flushed. With his lips next to your ear, he whispers, “You are going nowhere.” Then propping himself on one arm, he trails small kisses up your back to your shoulder blade until his mouth slams down on yours in a heavy and wet kiss.

And when he pulls away, his fingertips squeeze your cheeks together as he demands for you to open your mouth. "You are mine," he grunts, "you belong to me," before spitting into it. "Good, now swallow."

And when you do, he smiles.

"There, see?" he coos, leaning to kiss your forehead as he feels you tighten around his cock. He was going to seed you again, deep inside your womb. Come the morning, he knows his son will be in there, and he can hardly wait.

"My wife, my darling girl, the only woman deserving of me and all of me. Only me." He watches you sob at that, pink lips pressing in a tight line as fat tears streak down both cheeks. "Oh, do not worry, my love. You're too lovely to be crying," and he uses his thumb to brush away the tears, "I'm here to give you the life you deserve," he vows, so lovingly, "you will want for nothing."

With a loud huff, you plop yourself on the couch.

The saying “home sweet home” never felt more sincere until now. It took much time and planning and effort and sneaking around on your part, but you managed to find a way to escape from Aemond Targaryen, though not without consequences. Your belly was growing only larger with every new moon, and your babe was starting to shift around more. At most times, you could feel the fluttering sensation across the bottom of your tummy, and every now and then, the tiniest kick.

It was adorable, you admitted, and you tried your best to find enjoyment throughout the pregnancy, sometimes wondering at night about who your child would resemble.

Would their looks favor yours? Or would they favor their father, with his Valyrian features- that iconic silver hair and violet eyes. The latter worried you the most. How could you even begin to explain why your child looked as if they belonged in the Game of Thrones series, specifically in House Targaryen?

Speaking of such, you had not touched House of the Dragon since you arrived back home all those months ago, too unwilling to turn on the tv and see the man whose child you were mysteriously carrying in your womb. It just did not make any sense, it felt more like a weird dream than reality.

But you were dying of boredom. The dragonling (you had taken to nicknaming the baby that, it sounded both cute and appropriate) was stealing away most of your time and energy, and your mother refused to allow you to do anything that could cause harm or add more unnecessary stress.

So you bit your tongue and swallowed down your grumbles and settled comfortably on the couch before opening Fire and Blood.

“Fucking crazy to think that this is a book of your family’s history,” you mumbled to your baby bump, “fictional my ass.”

So you read, to yourself and to your babe. Read about Aegon’s Conquest and the Year of the Three Brides and King Jaehaerys and his Alysanne and their triumphs and tragedies and legacy, and you read until you reached The Dying of the Dragons, the Blacks and the Greens, where you just sighed.

“And when Alicent sent for her second son to fly to Storm’s End, with the purpose of securing Borros Baratheon’s loyalty to Aegon II by winning the hand of one of his daughters, the Four Storms, the truth was finally known. One-eyed Prince Aemond, twenty and one, had taken a wife of his own in secret, a young maiden not of Westeros (according to Mushroom). Yet Prince Aemond lost her a month into their marriage, although by that time he had become so besotted with his bride, to such an extent that he could not bear the thought of living without her or taking another woman as his new wife.

With Prince Aemond refusing his mother’s orders, Queen Alicent had little choice but to send her youngest, Prince Daeron, in his place to Storm’s End. And by the seventh month, Prince Daeron wedded Floris Baratheon, and Prince Aemond One-Eye had reunited with his wife, who was heavy with child by the time he found her.”

You suddenly glance up from the book pages, feeling your heart hammering so hard in your chest that it seems at the end of your throat. On the wall, to your right, hung the calendar which you had taken to use as a means of tracking your pregnancy.

In two weeks, you’ll be at your seventh-month mark.

[haikyuu-boys-headcanons]

𝙷𝙰𝙸𝙺𝚈𝚄𝚄 𝙱𝙾𝚈𝚂 - 𝙴𝙼𝙱𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚂𝚂𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚂𝙴𝚇 𝙼𝙾𝙼𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂

hehe, i’m back at it again with one of these long ass posts but this idea’s literally been in my head all day long so here you go !! obvious nsfw warning :)

tw: this whole post is just nsfw and embarrassing to read so read at your own risk >:)

𝙳𝙰𝙸𝙲𝙷𝙸 » during a super intense and loud session, his voice cracked as he asked you “does that feel goOD- good baby?” to this day, he still prays that you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own moans

𝚂𝚄����𝙰𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙰 » you were riding him and he went to slap your ass, but something went wrong either because you were riding too quickly or he was shaking too much, boy ended up slapping himself in the balls. you’ve never heard that boy scream that loud in your life

𝙰𝚂𝙰𝙷𝙸 » literally pulled out in the middle of sex to get up and rush to the corner of his room to flip around his childhood teddy bears. your just laying there with your tiddies and coochie out waiting for asahi to shield the eyes of mr. wiggles

𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙺𝙰 » you two were having pretty intense shower sex until tanaka did the number one thing your not supposed to do during shower sex; this muthafucker slipped while holding you. long story short, y’all were okay but just ended up having nasty shower floor sex??

𝙽𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙾𝚈𝙰 » this tiny ass 5′2 man was unconsciously humping your leg while you were both asleep?? his presumably pleasurable wet dream had turned into a sudden nightmare when you literally had to KICK him off you to stop the humping. bad nishinoya, bad!

𝙺𝙰𝙶𝙴𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰 » came WAYYY too early inside you, but he was too embarrassed to say anything so he just... kept going. sadly, no one had warned kageyama of the intense effects of overstimulation. he was shaking and whimpering so badly behind you to the point where you had to ask him to pull out and bring him a glass of water to calm down

𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙰𝚃𝙰 » the first time you squirted on him, he just blatantly asked you these exact few words that left you feeling mortified: “did you just piss on me?” nuh uh hinata, this water fountain ain’t yours to drown in anymore >:( 

𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙺𝙸𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » kei was hitting it from the back pretty hard this time, so hard that you were suddenly... on an angle? suddenly, now you two were much closer to the floor than before. the bed ended up collapsing, yes literally collapsing due to kei’s powerful thrusts. worst part is, nobody got to finish since kei dragged you to ikea to grumpily buy a new bedframe. but hey, he bought you ikea meatballs; that shit hits so different

𝚈𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙶𝚄𝙲𝙷𝙸 » one super duper intense night, he passed out the SECOND he came. no matter how much you flicked the temple of his forehead, yamaguchi was dead asleep. you had to literally slap him awake to get him to clean up, you ain’t risking a ranky stanky UTI puthy in the morning

𝙾𝙸𝙺𝙰𝚆𝙰 » kept calling himself a sex machine during the act. i don’t know if it was due to the 6 tequila shots he had beforehand or just his inner ego revealing, whatever it was it was about to make your pussy close

𝙸𝚆𝙰𝚉𝚄𝙼𝙸 » this one time, he kept going in at a weird angle which caused you to repeatedly queef for 7 minutes straight. every time you told him to pull out and go in properly, he laughed and kept going in at that one weird angle!! was your embarrassment a turn on for him?? maybe!! but were you mortified? absolutely!!

𝙼𝙰𝚃𝚃𝚂𝚄𝙽 » i’m sorry to have to be the one to announce this, but this man had the worst case of full blown bush you’ve ever seen. like, he didn’t even try to manscape or anything at all. you ended up begging him to trim just a tiny bit because you weren’t gonna risk choking on a pube whilst your going down on him

𝙷𝙰𝙽𝙰𝙼𝙰𝙺𝙸 » rubbed your left labia thinking it was your clit. and he kept doing that. the whole. fucking. time. even when you subtly moved his fingers towards your clit, he just kept going back to the left lip.

𝙺𝚄𝙽𝙸𝙼𝙸 » had the most dry and dull dirty talk you’ve ever heard. like, it’s not even dirty talk at this point; it’s just clean talk. there’s no passion when he talks! he uses the same tone he would use for anyone else at any other moment. to paint the picture, imagine riding kunimi and he’s just there with a furrowed expression like “yup, that feels really good”

𝙺𝚈𝙾𝚃𝙰𝙽𝙸 » tried to pull one of those unexpected anal scenes that he saw from a porno, without telling you beforehand. life lesson here; if you party at shit's house, don't be surprised if shit's at the party

𝙺𝚄𝚁𝙾𝙾 » you two were looking to get a little more kinky in terms of BDSM, so kuroo watched like 30 tutorials on youtube on how to safely tie you up so you won’t fall or anything. this bitch ended up tying rope knots that were practically impossible to undo, which resulted in you hanging from the ceiling for approximately 2 hours pussy-ass naked while kuroo tried to cut you down with a kitchen knife

𝙺𝙴𝙽𝙼𝙰 » wanted to spice things up with some dirty talk, like the real nasty talk they use in pornos but not the normal pornos; the shitty company ones with horrific acting. he really ended up announcing that he was going to “fuck your fucking fanny off, you twat”

𝙻𝙴𝚅 » got super excited while he was opening the lube since he hadn’t gotten to fuck you in a WHILE, which resulted the lube leaked everywhere and a giant 6′5 man slipping and hitting his head on the bed frame. worst part is; he had to go to the ER with a hard on that refused to go away

𝙱𝙾𝙺𝚄𝚃𝙾 » speaking of boners that wouldn’t go away, let’s not forget that one time bokuto took two viagras when you texted him to come over for a special occasion. he horribly misinterpreted the ‘special occasion’ text, because he showed up to your house with a huge buldge in his pants as your parents stand before him holding anniversary cards, completely horrified

𝙰𝙺𝙰𝙰𝚂𝙷𝙸 » wanted to make valentines day sex as romantic as he could, so he did the classic lighting candles and giving roses. everything was beautiful, until he accidently knocked one of the bigger candles over during missionary. this not only caused a huge ass fire in your bedroom, but he came right as the fire began to spread. boy was debating on whether his orgasm was to die for or not

𝙺𝙾𝙽𝙾𝙷𝙰 » had a nose bleed when he was going down on you and you both were immediately horrified, you thinking it was your period and him thinking he just ate coochie blood. yet as you went to go clean up, you realized his face had much more blood on it than your coochie did. to this day, he still blames it on your period 

𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙹𝙸𝙼𝙰 » threw you onto the bed and your head went through the wall. he didn’t even bother to ask you if you were okay, he just sighed and went “well, now i have to make a call to the construction guy. excuse me” and he left you and your concussed ass head sit there once again, pussy ass naked

𝚃𝙴𝙽𝙳𝙾𝚄 » during a blowjob, he held your head down right as he was coming causing the cum to shoot up your throat and somehow pour out of your nose. by the time he pulled out, he could barely breath from laughing at you. sure, the classic ‘milk shooting out of nose’ thing was funny at first until you got a sinus infection and had to breath out of your mouth for the next three days

𝚂𝙴𝙼𝙸 » always insists having sex in the most inconvenient places?? like he would pull you to side while grocery shopping and start grinding up against you as you pick which brand of cheese would be better??

𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙺𝙸 » he kept getting frustrated that his bangs were clouding his field of vision, so he irritably grabbed a hair tie and frantically tied up the sides of his bangs while he was fucking you. you immediately burst out laughing since he looked exactly like boo from monsters inc. 

𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚄𝚂𝙷𝙸𝙼𝙰 » got so drunk that he ended up fucking the couch. like he was just there on top of you, and his dick was just sliding between the folds of the leather couch. you decided to let him finish like that

𝚂𝙰𝙺𝚄𝚂𝙰 » had a really bad reaction to one of the products he used while shaving and ended up getting super irritated down there so he kept having to pull out in-between thrusts to itch his crotch. to make things worse, you joking suggested that he looked like he had syphilis and he got so disgusted at the idea of that thought that he literally had to pull out and take a breather 

𝙾𝚂𝙰𝙼𝚄 » drizzled ‘warm’ chocolate down your chest and was about to seductively lick it off until you screamed in pain and horror as the chocolate was literally burning your skin off. osamu panicked, obviously not knowing what to do if chocolate was burning his partners skin off so he just... frantically licked it off. you still had to go to the ER afterwards to get treated for mild burns

𝙰𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙼𝚄 » didn’t know what a hymen was until the first time he tried to have sex with you. no matter how much he tried to shove his schlong in, it really just wasn’t working + “yer puss is broken”

𝚂𝚄𝙽𝙰 » pinched your nipples so fucking hard to the point where you started crying. he thoughts these were tears of pleasure until you literally had to kick him off you. but hey, he gave you ice for your sore nipples and mcdonalds! what more could a girl possibly want :)

uh the end lol

also, this idea was inspired by the first haikyuu headcanon i ever read, “awkward sex moments” by @bbytetsu <3

[prettyboykatsuki]

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

later | m. izuku 

➳ tags ;; fluff, confessions, deku is smooth, kissing, fluff, fem!reader implied i think 

➳ wc ;; 2.4k (wtf) 

➳ a/n ;; brainrot...... 

➳ plot ;; izuku midoriya listens to you when you tell him to confess to you again later. he’s waited his whole life for you but he doesn’t know how much longer he can

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

He thinks to himself often that it has to be you he’s been chasing all this time. 

This isn’t so much a revelation to him. It’s nothing like eureka moment, an aha that he uncovers after years of reflection. After all, he’s not the type to know what he really wants. 

Which is funny for many reasons but mostly because he’s a hero. He did want that, still does - but it wasn’t really an active choice. It wasn’t the desire to become a hero in terms of glamour and fame but a deep-seated knowing about the fact he had to become one. That the desire to save people above all else was rooted and deeply ingrained in him that there would never be anything that would fulfill him quite the same way. 

He finds it more often than not he’s acting out of pure instinct. Something carnal and perhaps other-worldly that pins him to the world in an almost divine way. All or nothing, there’s one way to approach existence and it’s with this unwavering desire to be kind. 

He’s always been that kind of person.

But, if he sat down and thought about it, the desire to be with you is perhaps one of his own. It’s one of the only things he’d chase to the ends of the earth. 

Izuku Midoriya has loved you since he was 14

The first time he ever confessed to you was when he was 15, about half way into his first year at U.A. It was outside of your apartment - your childhood home. He’d walk you there after his classes, when he caught you returning from your own. It was an awkward and clumsy teenage confession even then but he can remember the details clearly. 

It comes to him a series of images. Orange-yellow light that fell over your face, hairs sticking a little your head, trembling hands, ricocheting heartbeats, the sound of cars passing. He wasn’t very confident then, it makes him laugh thinking back at. But he told you anyways, bursting at the seams with his feelings. 

“I like you!” 

Your first reaction was shock immediately followed with a somber smile. Though he told you he had liked you, it was in the brief moment afterwards that he though there was more to it than that. He wouldn’t call it a rejection, but a wake-up call. You leaned in to kiss his cheek before whispering something back. 

“If you mean it,” ― you whisper, hand on his shoulder and eyes heavy ― “Tell me again later,” 

With that, you turned on your heel and went home. He wasn’t sure how to feel for a while, because it’s not like you said no. And you kissed him so that had to mean something.

Rather predictably after that, he became so caught up in hero work, it was only natural that you two grew distant. Once frequent conversations became words in passing, spoken quietly to each other. He went off to become a great hero, and you went off to study what you love. 

It was a natural occurrence - he knows this now. He wonders what kind of thinking you had to have been doing to know that at 15. The older he got, the more he thought about what you said. How the once vague mention of “later” became a narrow time-frame. Not a moment too soon and not a second too later. 

Izuku Midoriya has loved you all of 8 years. For most of them, it’s been a passive yearning. The emptiness of his bedframe and his disinterest. 8 years and he’s tried and failed to love other people. Maybe he was testing if later would ever come. 

He’s 22 and he thinks to himself that he’s been chasing the feeling of loving you this whole time. That adrenaline from when you kissed his cheek all those years ago, he wonders to himself if it’s still there

He’ll have to go find out

_ 

After a night-out, you are unfortunately sober on the walk home. Work dinners should have a general policy for how much someone can drink, you think. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to shovel your boss into a taxi and remain regrettably conscious through a series of uncomfortable or agitating questions. 

It wasn’t like he was invasive but he was.. annoying? And the fact you couldn’t sit through it by downing half a bottle of wine was a real shame . You’re so stone cold sober that your body shivers in the night air. Heels clacking against the pavement, eyes heavy and exhausted. You could endure it, you were finally going home after all. 

You’d take a warm bath and hit the hay. Your body yearned for your bed and you don’t blame it. You sigh to yourself, hands in coat pockets. 

“Just a little bit more,” ― you sigh, yawning and wiping your eyes ― “A little more and I’ll be...home?” 

You were home, the front door to your building. There was an ominous looking figure sitting on the front steps. Your first reaction was to reach into your pockets and grab your keys between your knuckles. Your heart stuttered as you broached slowly. It was too dark to see clearly but maybe he was nice. 

“Uhm.. excuse me, sir” 

When he turns his head - your first reaction is to flinch. You step back as he turns his head only to grow stiff. A pair of warm green eyes and head of forest green locks await seems to be staring back at you. He gives you a warm smile - standing on his feet. 

In a way, he’s unrecognizable to you. Though you see him all the time, Pro-Hero Deku making news, the image of him in your head is permanently small and frail. In front of you now, he’s grown up to be so big. A whole head taller than you and broad. He’s lean but clearly muscular. Intimidating in a sense. 

“Ah, you’re home,” ― he says, non-chalant. You’re trying to recall the last time you spoke to him, the last time you’d even seen him. Maybe a year ago now? ― “I wanted to talk to you,”

Your first though is to ask questions. You had so many of them though, you’re not sure where to start. You want to ask how he’s been, and how did he find you, and how’s work going. You want to ask why he’s here after all this time and if following his dreams has made him happy how he hoped. You want to ask if he remember what he said to you at 15 - wondering if he still gets caught up on it like you do. 

None of your words seem to string together right so you just shake your head a little, managing your disbelief. 

“About what?” you ask. He pauses for a second, rubbing his chin before smiling at you. 

“It’s later,”

Your eyes widen as he steps out of the way, using his hands to gesture towards your apartment. You blink at him but his smile is as cheeky as ever. Teasing and unusually handsome. You flush down to your neck before nodding. 

“Oh, uhm.. right. Okay,”―  you say, walking towards your complex doors ― “C-come on in,” 

_

“You can uh.. take your shoes off at the door,” ― you say, after taking your own heels off and rushing to the kitchen ― “The green slippers should fit you,” 

He nods as he watches you disappear to the kitchen. He takes in your apartment with a soft smile. Photos of you with your friends and family litter the entrance way. It’s filled with a soft yellow light, cozy like he’d expect. From below him, he hears a soft purr 

A beige cat walks around his legs, observing him quietly before nuzzling against his thigh. His smile grows wide as he squats down and holds his hand for the kitty, waiting for it to approve of him before reaching and petting him. The cat is quick to the jump into his forearms. 

“Who’s this?” 

He ducks as he enters into the main area of your apartment. Your eyes widen as your usually stand-offish cat nuzzles comfortably in your childhood friends chest. 

“His name is Creampuff,” ― you say, mildly stunned ― “He’s two,” 

“What a good boy,” 

Your heart races as you see him. After all this time, his presence still gives you those nervous butterflies. Maybe it’s because he’s become so attractive. Broader and taller but more rugged to look at.You feel like the floor might swallow you up. 

“I’ll.. put on some tea,” 

You take off your coat but you’re still in your work clothes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s staring at you. You’re too afraid to look behind you and see, confirm but his gaze is so heavy you’re almost certain. He traces the outline of your body and back with his eyes. 

He can’t help but think you’ve filled out some. Even from behind - you look awfully pretty. You look disheveled and sleepy like you did back in highschool, after cramming for exams. A little older now with that same cute expression on your face. It’s hard to hold back or tear himself from you - so he doesn’t try. He just watches as you pour the tea into mugs and let it steep. Minutes pass and it’s quiet but not as uncomfortable as you’d expect. 

You return to your kitchen table with two mugs, setting his down on a coaster. 

“Careful.. it’s hot,” 

He nods, taking the mug in his hands and blowing on it before taking a sip. He hums. 

“Ah.. it’s good. Thank you,” 

A silence settle between you briefly. Your heart is in your throat, hands trembling a little on the table. When he notices, he reaches for them. This is another of his habits, you think. Comforting people must be second nature to him, but it only makes you more nervous.

“So.. how’ve you been?” 

It’s the only thing you can think to ask. He studies your expression for a while. It used to the opposite of this. He used to be the nervous one, stuttery and unsure. You were always confident and steady - he’s sure you still are. This side of you is endearing though. He chuckles. 

“I’ve been good. Work is hectic but that’s always,” ― and you’re going to ask him another question. Dodge what he’s really here for, but he cuts you off ― “I’ve missed you though, so I came to visit,” 

You can feel it. This tension that presses against your back and makes you sit straight. He has that determined look in his eyes, easily recognizable when you watch him. In interviews and during fights and everything in between - like he knows what he’s going up against. To have it directed at you is so nerve-wracking, you find yourself doling under the pressure of his gaze. 

You fidget, voice shaking like a leaf in the wind. He was always too much for to you handle. 

“O-oh?,” 

He nods, taking your hand in his. He holds it to his lips, kisses your knuckles like it’s the easiest thing in the world. You wonder where he learned to act like this. He’s different but the same. It’s too much for you so you shut your eyes. 

He stands until he’s on your side of the table. Rests on the corners edge with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks at you with fondness, an unmistakable affection. After all these years, it’s only grown. Double and tripled in size. No matter how much he would try and punch it down, it never deflates. 

He thinks loving you is an act of heroism. The only way he could ever really save himself. 8 years and it feels like you’re old friends. Nothing unnatural or wholly uncomfortable. It’s strange. 

“I thought about what you said. About telling you later. This time though,” ― he drops to the floor, crouched between your legs so slightly. He does it to look straight at you ― “This time though, I have to tell you properly so you can’t make me wait again,” 

“I wasn’t making you wait,” you insist. He takes your hand in his and you unravel, body slumped. He kisses the palms of your hands, the inside of your wrist and it feels like gravity has no mercy on you. 

“It felt like hell,” ― he tells you ― “I can’t sit still anymore so I’m telling you now. Even if you want to run away, I can’t let you,” 

You frown, heart rapid. 

“That’s not very heroic,” 

He smiles. 

“Good. I don’t wanna be your hero. I just want to love you selfishly as Izuku and not Deku,” ― he says, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles ― “So tell me you love me back and grant my wish. I waited all this time,” 

You’re stunned into silence at his request. Eyes feeling especially water as he leans into you. It doesn’t make sense but it feels right. Your heart is beating - like you can feel all the blood pumping in you and your head feels light. 

“You say it so easily,” 

He laughs. It’s bright just like how you remember. 

“How could you know after all this time? How could you be sure?” 

He shrugs. You hit his shoulder at the nonchalance but he only chuckles. He  leans in closer to you, inches away from your face. 

“I waited for you all this time. Shouldn’t you give me a chance to show you?” 

You sniffle as his hands cup your cheeks. His smile is so inviting, how could you refuse him?

“I’d like to kiss you,”  ― he pauses, shaking his head  ― “I want to show you. Let me,” 

You nod as he leans into you. His lips are pillow and soft - touch addicting. You give into him so easily, tongue tied. He keeps you close, hand at the base of your neck. It feels so good, so perfect. You believe him when he kisses you like this With secrets under his tongue, between his teeth. 

“Tell me your answer,”  ― he demands, soft but stern  ― “You didn’t before. I need to hear it,” 

You give him an exasperated laugh. 

“I love you.. obviously” 

Right. Obviously indeed. 

»» — { ♡ } —— { ♡ } —— { ♡ } — ««

[kafka-ish]

the drunken words you spoke last night (1) | b.d.

one thing leads to another and before she knows it, y/n's longtime crush becomes a casual fuck.

word count: 2,893

warnings/included: nsfw (explicit smut -- male x female, pretty vanilla), fem!reader, angst(?), also a lot of this is written in italics cuz of flashbacks

a/n: sorry it's been so long since i've written anything!!

-

It was never supposed to end up like this. Just one quick fuck was all it was supposed to be; which lead to another one, then another one, then another one…

y/n watches as Bill scurries around the room, searching for his shirt. She’s noiseless and he doesn’t know she’s awake yet. He does a good job at being quiet, making sure not to disturb what he thinks is a sleeping y/n. The grey baseball tee he wore to her place last night turned out to be underneath her bed—how it got there was a different story. The silence is broken when Bill opens the door and is met with a large creaking sound.

Don’t look back, don’t look back, don’t look—

He regrets it immediately when he sees y/n, her back against her bedframe. She’s wide-eyed from watching him with such intent.

“Hu-hey.” Bill swallows the saliva gathering in the back of his throat. “I, uh, I didn’t nuh-know—”

“It’s fine.” y/n says her words with such ease and for a moment Bill’s jealous. He wants to know a life without speech therapy, a life without the nickname Stuttering Bill. And most of all, he wants to know a life without loving someone who won’t love you back.

“So, you’re not staying?” y/n does her best to conceal the insecurity in her voice but it’s hard. She doesn’t want to come off as needy or clingy, but she wants a response she already knows the answer to.

“I duh-didn’t want t-to wake you.” Bill shrugs as he says this. Half of it was true—he really didn’t want to wake y/n but seeing as she was already up his excuse fell flat.

“Right.” It takes everything for y/n to not roll her eyes as she replies through gritted teeth.

“So…” Bill’s left foot is digging into the carpet and his fingers find themselves intertwined together.

“So.” y/n herself is picking at loose strings from her worn-out comforter. Her eyes avert from their previous lock on his figure and she doesn’t know what to do with the lump in the back of her throat. She’s annoyed—no—furious.

It was never supposed to end up like this.

“Hey,” Bill answered the door in low-rise sweats and shirtless. “What’s u—”

He’s cut off and taken aback with a messy kiss. It’s bold, breathtaking, and smelled like vodka—nothing he’d ever expect from y/n. Once the shock had passed, he felt his eyes flutter shut and he became lax under her touch.

“I need you,” y/n mumbled helplessly in between kisses. Her fingers which had previously been confidently intertwined around his neck were now reaching for the ends of her shirt.

“W-Wait—what?” Bill’s still hazy from the blunt he smoked earlier and everything’s going so fast.

“You heard me.” Uh, not really. She pressed another kiss to his already swollen lips and the feeling of his skin on hers feels a hundred times better than what she imagined it to be. “Fuck.” Her hips press up to his, but Bill can’t revel in the delicious spark their jeans create every time her hips meet his.

The Denbrough’s front door is still open.

“y/n,” Bill spoke. He tried to say it firmly, but it came out as more of a breath than an assertion.

“Hmm?” The noises coming from her are downright pornographic, which only made Bill wonder what the rest of the night will be like.

“I have to shut the door,” he whispered. His breath tickled her neck and y/n felt her face grow hotter—if that was even possible. Reluctantly, y/n relieved Bill of her possessive grip so he could shut the door. But, immediately, he noticed he’s cold—freezing, even. But how can Bill be cold in the middle of July—Maine’s hottest month?

y/n’s quick to reassume her previous position—arms swung around his tanned neck, hips bucked up desperately to meet his.

“Wuh-we should take this somewhere more comfortable. Sh-shouldn’t we?” Bill only stuttered when he’s nervous now. It’s cute.

She pressed a quick kiss onto his jawline. If there weren’t remnants of her lipstick on his skin, he’d assume he was dreaming. “Okay,” she hummed into the spot her lips had just previously grazed over. Bill shivers.

He led the two of them up the stairs and into his room. The trip is slow. Bill’s careful to make sure y/n didn’t trip or snag her top on the railing. What a gentleman.

“Bill,” she whined.

That night, Bill decided his favorite sound was her voice calling his name. He’s always loved the sound of y/n’s voice and the way his name rolled off her tongue (“Bill, watch!” “Bill are you coming?”). But this was different. Tonight was different.

“Bill, I need you.” He turned to y/n who wore a pout as she followed Bill closely into his room. It’s pitch black but Bill doesn’t need to turn on a light to know his way around.

The back of y/n’s calves hit his bed with a light thump followed by another whimper.

“Shh,” Bill cooed into her hair…

y/n awoke that morning with her too-tight tank top and faded denim shorts replaced with one of Bill’s graphic tees that drape over her figure like a dress. She finds half of her eyeliner and lipstick-stained on Bill’s grey pillowcase and there’s an empty space next to her where Bill once lay.

“Fuck,” y/n whispered to herself. She can’t remember the events that happened last night, and the pounding in her head doesn’t make it any better. But the way the sheets around her creased and wrinkled, and the way her collarbone peaked out of Bill’s Led Zeppelin tee made her skin crawl and her stomach turn.

“Hey.”

Bill’s scratchy morning voice startled y/n. His perfect tall and slender figure slanted against the doorframe and y/n had to compose herself under his sheets the way she’s done all her life.

“Hi,” she swallowed thickly. Her breathing started to pick up along with her pulse and when did it get so hot in here?

“Do you want breakfast?” Bill made a motion towards the kitchen downstairs. “My parents aren’t home still. I guh-guess they’re still out.” Bill’s parents were always “out”.

y/n only nodded.

“Look, about last night—”

“Whatever happened last night, I can—”

“Did you mean it?” Bill cut her off, not even listening to the word vomit spilling from y/n’s splotchy lips.

“Mean what?” y/n’s ungroomed eyebrows furrowed together inquisitively because what the fuck? What on earth happened last night that could have left Bill Denbrough wondering for answers in the morning?

“Wuh-when you said that stuff about needing me.” From the flushed cheeks and timid words, y/n could tell Bill felt awkward saying to her what he’d just said.

Mortification took the form of y/n y/l/n that morning. The tiny hairs on her neck started to rise and goosebumps shot a trail down her forearms.

Bill crept forward after he didn’t receive a response. His face was only a few inches away from y/n’s. The swoosh of his I-just-woke-up hair framed his hairline like an auburn halo. To make matters worse, the morning sun shone directly on his skin, giving him a god-like glow.

“Did you?” His minty breath hit her face. Colgate.

Instead of watching his swimmingly blue eyes—swimming for answers, an indication, anything—she watched his lips. She admired how rosy they were even in the morning. She admired the curl of his cupid’s bow. She admired how soft they looked and felt as she bit the bullet and shoved herself forward to kiss him.

This kiss is different from last night. It’s daring, yet nervous; sweet, but awkward. It’s not the same as her desperate kisses from when she was wasted. This kiss is slow, thoughtful—

Bill pulled away. His breaths grew heavy, and his eyesight got hazy. The only thing he could think to do was go in for another kiss. So, he did. He’s quick to capture her bottom lip with his and cup her jawline in the palm of his hand.

Bill’s impatient now. His parents were gone, and he had a beautiful girl in his bed. What else was a teenage boy to do? In a flash of flesh, Bill’s shirt was gone.

“Do-do you want this?” He asked before he made the effort to remove any other articles of clothing and possibly embarrass himself further. Of course, Bill would be perfectly fine with getting off in the other room with just his bruised ego and bare chest to keep him company.

But y/n was fast to reply “yes” and press yet another kiss on Bill’s swollen lips. Their flesh pinned against each other’s elicited a feeling inside the two that both y/n and Bill had never felt before.

“You smell good,” Bill murmured against her shoulder. The words slipped out of his mouth like a hockey puck on ice. “I bet you taste even better.”

y/n grew flustered at the sudden statement. It wasn’t like Bill to confess something like that—at least not to her. Before another moan, like the ones from last night, could claw its way out of her throat, y/n caught Bill sliding the elastic of his grey sweats down his long legs.

He’s in his boxers. y/n could only catch glimpses of streaks of greens and yellows but didn’t get a chance to look at them for long as her attention was redirected to taking off her—Bill’s—shirt.

Although he knew it wasn’t gentlemanly, Bill could only stare at y/n’s bra-clad chest. It’s just black, simple, classic. But it hugged y/n’s figure effortlessly and contorted her shape perfectly.

“Bill?” y/n wondered aloud. His silence worried her, but she has nothing to worry about—she’s got Bill hooked like a fish.

Her meek words snapped Bill out of his trance, which allowed him to press another kiss onto her lips before he trailed down to her neck. Each graze of his lips turned her into a moaning mess. Bill wished he could say he was surprised, but he wasn’t, not from when he remembered the events from last night so vividly.

His lips lingered a little longer on a certain spot just above her collarbone that made y/n’s lips part so erotic-like, Bill thought he might cum at the sight.

But he wouldn’t allow himself to release just mere seconds in of making out with his dream girl—even if it pained him.

He released his lips from her skin, leaving a bruise. Bill chuckled to himself. At least, if he can’t have her, he can pretend he does for these few moments until she leaves for home and covers his mark with her trusty concealer.

Their lips clashed again. It was hard and rough—y/n’s more dominant than she let on and before either of them realized, she was on top: legs straddled Bill’s torso, nimble fingers gripped at his skin where a shirt used to be, and her lips viscously stained his red with what was left of her lipstick from last night.

Bill’s the one to moan this time. The sound was throaty and gruff, which sent shocks straight to y/n’s core. She bucked up, causing Bill to moan again and the cycle repeats.

“Fuck, y/n, I need you.” y/n liked this side of Bill: the bolder, dominant side; the speak-your-mind side. But most of all, y/n liked Bill.

She giggled at his words. She loved the way his voice cracked with desperation and the way his fingers began to clutch her skin tighter—like she was his.

The delicate sound of y/n’s voice only made Bill want her more. The tent in his boxers grew impossibly harder—a contradicting feeling of pain and desire at the same time.

“Please.” It wasn’t long until Bill’s groans turned into pleads. The rough palms of his hands coast across her bare skin, causing goosebumps to form and hair to raise. “Please.” The fast movements of y/n’s clothed clit on his plaid-covered dick matched the fast beats of y/n’s pounding heart.

Ba-dumb. Ba-dumb. Ba-dumb.

“Plu-“

“Tell me what you want,” Bill’s voice easily sliced through y/n’s pathetic whines, “using your words,” he instructed clearly.

“I wah—” Another whine. “I want you.”

At that, the rough pad of Bill’s thumb started to massage the sharp edge of y/n’s jaw. “I need you to be more specific, baby.”

Baby? Bill’s never called her that before. Actually, Bill’s never had a girl as beautiful as y/n on top of his lap before but here he was, the tent in his boxers being barely relieved by the girl by his dreams.

“I—” The sensation of the fabric against skin felt too much to bear but she wanted more. “I want your—your cock in me. Please.” She said this through lazy lips and heavy lids.

“F-f-fuck.” Bill groaned at the vulgarity of her words. Never in his life would he expect y/n to utter something as filthy as that. But never in his life would Bill Denbrough ever expect to be offered the chance to fuck her. “Okay, baby, hold on.” His calloused palm slowly slipped its way down from the slope of her jaw to her neck where fingerprints were left and then down to the clasp of her bra.

The damn thing. As hard as his hand grasped and as hard as his fingers twisted, the clip wouldn’t budge.

“Need some help?” y/n giggled, as she noticed Bill’s pained expression. Effortlessly, she unhooked the cursed contraption. It was as effortless as how the piece of fabric once made her look so perfect. But perfection didn’t change once the garment left her skin. Bill then realized that it wasn’t the strawberry-stained lips or the dramatic smokey eye or the tempting clothing that made y/n perfect. y/n was already perfect on her own; everything else was just a prop.

Bill’s once furrowed brows softened when y/n began to take the lead. His bare back pressed further into the mattress in the same motion y/n’s chest leaned into his.

Her crotch just barely brushed his and Bill couldn’t take the ‘almost there’ feeling anymore. “I hate these,” he bit. His hand swooped down to peel off the lacy string of fabric in one harsh motion.

“This is a little unfair, isn’t it?” y/n posed. Her eyebrow raised a little the way it always did when she asked a question. Her hands were cold when they made a trail down his chest and to his boxers. “Now we’re even,” she giggled when she finally released him from his confinements.

In an instant, Bill’s erection had slapped his stomach and y/n found herself near salivating at the sight. Her thumb just barely brushed the tip, letting out a hiss from Bill.

“Baby—”

“Shh…” Before Bill could get another word out through choked moans and deep breaths, y/n led his cock to her heat. Immediately, she let out a whine at the stretch of Bill which he chuckled at. “Bill..”

“Yes?” Bill couldn’t help but smirk at the fact that he was making her feel this way. He was the one whose name she was moaning. He was the one she was fucking.

“Bill…harder…” Her moans were like a record Bill would never get tired of hearing. His right hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair behind her ear before his fingers gripped her scalp while his left hand moved just below her butt, allowing him to thrust deeper.

Moans turned into whines and whines turned into screams as Bill set the pace faster and harder. Each thrust hit deeper each time, hitting a spot no boy had ever found before. “Bill, I’m—” But y/n’s words were cut off when Bill’s lips captured hers in a kiss. His hand still found itself tangled in her morning hair. His other hand still tightly gripped on her ass which would surely leave a bruise. His hips bucked up once more, leaving y/n in a moaning mess, unable to hold herself above him anymore. With shaky arms, y/n allowed herself to collapse on Bill’s chest. Their breaths mixed and their pants synced.

Tenaciously, Bill pressed a kiss upon y/n’s sweat-slicked forehead. The feeling of his lips was gentle and tickled as they dragged down to her cheekbone.

It was never supposed to end up like this, y/n could only think to herself now as she watched Bill walk out of her room and presumably out the front door. Of course, he’d be back the next night. Ever since their first drunken encounter with each other, casual sex had become second nature to y/n and Bill—like learning how to tie your shoes or riding your bike. But it was at this moment when y/n realized how she wanted more.

Hickies and torn shirts would never be enough to satisfy the aching need for something deeper; the feeling that made her stomach drop every time she caught Bill looking at her; the feeling that made her throat dry up every time she tried to speak to him outside of moans and cries; the feeling that made her heart skip a beat at the thought of him; the feeling of want—and only want—for Bill Denbrough.

[fruitcoops]

hi <3 i hope you’re well and having a beautiful day so far. i was wondering if you could write a fic about sirius or logan’s brother like relationship to adele - for example, how they would approach her when she’s having a bad day or when she needs advice about something or maybe even after a disagreement with her parents. no worries if you can’t, i just thought it would be a wholesome interaction 💕

Oh, for sure! Katie and Logan get so much attention (for good reason--they're adorable), but I like to think of Sirius and Adele as the blueprint. Hope you enjoy! Combined with asks for Logan and Loops friendship, Papa Dumo (for @ jinxedjaz), Sirius coming back from visiting his parents while living with the Dumais, and Sirius-learning-to-people from this hc list. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

I

A little hand tugged on the hem of Dumo’s sweater. “Papa?”

He glanced up from his crossword and smiled, turning to lift Adele into his lap. “Bonjour, mon papillon. Do you want to help me?”

“Is Sirius okay?”

Dumo paused. His first instinct was to lie—how could he even begin to explain the complexity of the situation to a seven-year-old?—but the brightness in Adele’s big eyes told him she already knew the answer. She was a smart kid. She deserved to know at least some of the truth. “He’s having a tough day,” Dumo said quietly as dishes clinked in the other room. No matter what he and Celeste tried, Sirius insisted on washing up. “He’ll be alright.”

A little furrow appeared between Adele’s eyebrows. “Is it because of us? Because he misses his family now?”

“No, sweetheart, not at all. He just…” The words were impossible to find. “He just doesn’t like holidays very much.”

She worried her lower lip for a moment before wiggling free of his arms. “I’m going to make him feel better.”

“Adele—” Dumo made a grab for her, but she had already scampered out of reach and around the corner to the kitchen. In the three days since Sirius had come back from Thanksgiving, he had already reverted back to his shut-down ghost of a self.

“Excuse me, please,” Adele announced. The sink shut off. “Are you sad?”

That’s certainly one way to do it. Dumo craned his neck to watch their reflections in the glass of the back door without revealing his position. Sirius was always more comfortable around the kids than himself and Celeste. “Quoi?” Sirius asked, turning to face her.

“Are you sad? You’ve been frowny.”

Silence fell for a few seconds. “Ouais, a little,” he said at last. “But I’m not sad because of you.”

“That’s good. Papa said so, too. He says you don’t like holidays, but that’s so silly, because we were just talking about Christmas last week.”

“I like some holidays,” Sirius said haltingly. There was a rustling noise; Dumo saw him pick Adele up and settle her on his hip with a thoughtful tilt to his head. “I’m very excited to spend Christmas with you.”

“Pinky swear?”

“Pinky swear.”

“Good. I want you to spend all the holidays with us. Will you be frowny on Christmas, too?”

“I don’t think so.” Dumo could practically hear Sirius’ smile. “See? I’m already better.”

“Will you open presents with me? Marc and Louis always open theirs together, and Mama and Papa, but Katie’s too little to do it with me. I like playing Santa, but it means I hafta go last.”

In the glass, Dumo saw Sirius press a raspberry kiss to her cheek until she burst into giggles; his grin lit up the whole kitchen. “Of course I will.”

II

“You have to smile,” Adele groaned. “You’re scaring off all my customers.”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

She turned a big, sunshine grin on him, pressing her fingers into her dimples to exaggerate it. “Big smiles! You like being here! These are the best cookies you’ve ever had! Everyone should try them!”

“They should!” Sirius agreed. “I don’t know why you’re upset!”

She heaved a sigh and clonked her forehead on his stomach, knocking some of the air out of his lungs. “You look scary when you don’t smile.”

“I do not.”

“You do! You’re built like a brick wall and when you’re thinking, you get frowny!” She adjusted her Girl Scout vest and straightened up. “You have to be perky and fun and the cutest little kid on the block.”

“…I might have a problem with the last part.”

“Then I’ll be the cutest little kid on the block,” she said, exasperated.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at her. “Do you think I’m scary?”

“No,” she snorted. “But other people do.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. Mama looks surprised when her face relaxes, but you’re, like, looming.”

“So…you’re upset with how my face looks?” he teased, dodging her attempt to poke his ribs.

“No, I just don’t need a bodyguard to sell cookies!”

“That’s literally what I’m here for,” he laughed, tugging one of her pigtails until she stuck her tongue out at him. “Alright, madame, I’ll try to be ‘perky’ and ‘fun’.”

“The air quotes weren’t necessary,” she informed him with great gravity, though she couldn’t hide the smile on her face as she turned back to the people walking across the street. “Hey, lady, do you want cookies?”

III

“So,” Logan began, then shoved another handful of pretzel sticks into his mouth. “Dating the captain. What’s that like?”

Sirius looked up from his phone and glared. “I am sitting right next to you.”

“Shush. Loops?”

Remus sighed and let his head fall toward Logan’s armchair; he was starting to get lightheaded from laying upside-down for so long, but it was doing wonders for his lower back and sore feet. “Dating the captain? Pretty cool, to be honest.”

Logan made a noise of disagreement. “I don’t believe that for a second. Does he make you run drills in the basement, or is it just a cuddle party all the time? ‘cause there’s no in-between.”

“Tabarnak,” Sirius muttered, flicking Logan’s ear as he headed out of the room. “You two gossip like middle-schoolers.”

“It’s really not bad,” Remus mused as he stretched one leg toward the curtains. “I’m the one who likes running drills, so he’ll usually watch tape while I do that for a bit. Cuddles aren’t as frequent as you might think. We’re boring.”

“Mmm, with some wild nights in there, eh?” Logan wiggled his eyebrows and Remus chucked a pillow at him, though it did not seem to deter him. “I seem to remember hearing a certain conversation about a new bedframe?”

“A headboard,” Remus corrected, pulling a face at him. “And it was already almost ten years old. You’re just jealous.”

“Ugh, for him? Nah. Peanut might have carried a torch—”

“You’re kidding. Did he really?”

“Oh, yeah,” Logan snorted, as if it was obvious. “But he has better taste now. Honestly, though, I’m glad you two are together. And that you’re happy in your boring domesticity, even if you’re breaking beds left and right.”

“Headboard, and it was one time.”

“Did I ever tell you about—”

The front door slammed open; both of them jumped as something heavy hit the ground with a thud. “Sweetheart?” Celeste asked from the living room, audibly concerned. Remus’ heart dropped and he shared a worried look with Logan, who was already on his feet. “Adele, what’s wrong?”

“Adele?” Logan called, his voice laced with worry. Remus’ heartbeat picked up as Adele appeared in the doorway to the living room with tears streaming down her cheeks, only to throw herself into Logan’s arms with a harsh sob. “Woah, hey, qu’est—”

“Boys are so stupid!” she half-shouted, half-wailed. “And I hate them!”

Remus stood there, useless, as she tore away and sprinted for the backyard, yanking the door shut with a bang before tearing across the grass. “Logan?” he asked after a moment. There was no protocol for this. He had absolutely zero experience with preteen breakdowns, and the Dumais kids always fell into Logan and Sirius’ territory. He could count on one hand the number of actual conversations he had had with Adele.

Logan’s nose twitched; he opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat when Sirius came through the doorway and made a beeline for the yard without a single glance to either of them. “She’ll be okay,” Logan murmured as Sirius walked slowly to the swings, where Adele was sitting on the bench seat with her arms wrapped tight around herself.

“She seems pretty upset.”

Logan shook his head, not taking his eyes off the pair. “I’ve got Katie, he’s got Adele.”

“Yeah?” Remus asked, surprised. Logan and Katie were famous for their bond, two peas in a pod. As far as he knew, Sirius was equally close with all the Dumais kids.

“Apparently, they bonded from day one,” Logan said with the flicker of a smile. Outside, Adele laid her head on Sirius’ shoulder and pulled his arm around her back, burrowing into the softness of his hoodie as he gently rocked the swing with his foot and gave her a light squeeze. “They’re both quieter. Oldest children and all that. You really didn’t know?”

“I…” Remus trailed off and shook his head. “You and Katie are much louder about it, but that makes sense. He talks about all of you all the time., I guess I just assumed it was different since he was so closed off at first.”

Logan hummed. “Ask about it sometime. Dumo always likes talking about them.”

Sirius and Adele walked back after a few more minutes, still attached at the hip as Sirius jostled her lightly and pulled half a smile from her; they entered the house in relative quiet and Adele wrapped her arms around him one more time. “Love you,” she said, voice muffled in his sweater. Sirius rubbed her back in slow circles until she pulled away and padded down the hall to the bathroom

“Children are so mean,” he said as soon as the door closed.

“Then I’m glad she has you.” Remus curled his hand around Sirius’ shoulder and felt him relax beneath his touch. “Is she alright?”

“Some little asshole told her nobody would want to date her because she plays hockey.”

Remus’ heart panged. “How can we help?”

“Teach her how to throw a right hook,” Logan suggested. In a rare turn of events, Remus couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not; from the look on his face, it seemed to be the latter.

“She’ll be okay, baby,” Remus said. Sirius didn’t look away from the closed door. “Kids have always been mean, but the best thing you can do is be there for her, which you just did. It’s hard and it sucks but as long as she knows you love her, that’s enough.”

“Does she?” Sirius asked, almost too quiet for him to hear.

Remus looped an arm around his waist and kissed the top of his shoulder. “She does,” he promised. Without a doubt.

IV

Sirius drummed his hands on the steering wheel with a wide smile. “I’m so excited,” he said for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

“I can tell,” Remus said, still reading through his missed messages. The cell service in customs had been abysmal, and for some godforsaken reason his dad desperately needed to send paragraph updates on his hunt for the perfect holiday lights. Some days, Remus wondered whether he was happiest with his family or in Home Depot.

“I missed them.”

“Yep.”

“And I can’t let Logan get there first.”

“Sure thing, honey. Speed limit.”

“Three weeks is a long time, did you know that?”

“Mhmm. Sirius, speed limit.”

“How do you manage being away from Jules for that long?”

“Very poorly,” Remus said as he typed out a quick response to his dad’s latest text. His mother would end him if he allowed their house to be decorated with anything green—in all honesty, he was starting to think she had a personal rivalry with the Snakes. They turned onto Dumo’s street and he felt the excitement radiating off Sirius kick up several notches. “Deep breaths, love.”

“Ah, fuck me, the cubs are right behind us,” he muttered, pulling over to the curb and unbuckling his seatbelt.

“Sirius!” Remus spluttered.

“What?”

“Turn the fucking car off before you get out!”

Sirius heaved a sigh and pulled the key out, then took off toward the house at a jog; Logan went sprinting past the passenger window half a second later, and Remus heard Finn shouting after him from the still-running car to no avail. They reached the front steps at the exact same time, shouldering each other in an attempt to reach the doorbell first.

“—want to push it!” Logan insisted, kicking Sirius lightly on the shin as Remus headed up the walkway.

“You did it last time!” Sirius argued.

“I’m the youngest, so I get to do it!”

“That’s not how it works!”

The door swung open just as Logan tried to bodily shove Sirius out of the way, only to be put in a scrambling headlock. Dumo regarded them with an exhausted look on his face. “Bonjour, Loops.”

“Hey, Dumo,” Remus called from the base of the steps. “Nice night, eh?”

He shrugged, ignoring the two grown men roughhousing on his welcome mat. “Not bad.”

“Are les enfants here?” Logan panted, trying to heave Sirius into the nearest hedge.

Dumo rolled his eyes and opened the door the rest of the way. “Kids, we have visitors!”

Thundering footsteps echoed off the walls; Logan and Sirius tripped over each other in their haste to get inside. “Tremzy!” Katie shrieked, launching herself into his arms with a beaming smile.

Sirius hoisted Adele straight off her feet and shook her back and forth as she wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug. “You were gone forever!” she laughed. “We missed you!”

“What am I, chopped liver?” Logan teased as he set Katie down and opened his arms for a hug of his own. Marc and Louis slammed into him, nearly toppling him in the entryway.

“No, no, no!” Katie giggled as Sirius blew a raspberry kiss on her stomach, only to mimic it on his cheek a moment later. “You’re all scratchy.”

“Tough for kisses,” Remus agreed. “You should tell him to shave, Katie-bird.”

Katie squished his cheeks in her hands with a solemn frown. “No more porcupines.”

“You got it,” Sirius confirmed. “What do you think, Adele?”

She pulled a face and they all dissolved into laughter, exhausted from the long roadie and unable to contain their happiness. It was a tradition Remus was coming to know as he spent more time with the team—Logan and Sirius just couldn’t resist swinging by the Dumais house after a long trip, no matter how drained and battered they were. It was a combination of a competition and a family reunion, and the kids loved it every time.

“Are you staying the night?” Marc asked, lazily tying Sirius’ shoelaces together.

“Not tonight, no.”

“But it would be fun,” Louis said from his place hoisted under Logan’s arm, legs dangling.

“They’re tired, boys, be nice.” Celeste winked at Sirius as he leaned down so she could kiss his cheek before moving to Logan to do the same. “We watched all your games. You were wonderful.”

“Merci, Celeste.” The corners of Logan’s eyes crinkled, and Remus saw Finn and Leo share a smile behind him.

Sirius craned his neck to look back. “Oh, she wasn’t talking to you.”

Logan stuck his tongue out as the kids laughed, still clinging to them both. Remus happily accepted a quick hug and a hair-ruffle from Celeste before she moved on to Finn and Leo, and settled in for a cozy evening at home.