#bai day🩷

[pocketjoong-reads]

Had the privilege of reading this beforehand and this had me squealing and kicking my feet fr fr!! LITERALLY THE CUTEST AND SWEETEST BIRTHDAY PRESENT FOR OUR LOVELY BAI AAAAA~

Easy as Breathing

P.SH x Reader

W/C:1176

Genre: Fluff, Stay at Home, Date Night.

Summary: You finally can have a date night with your partner, what will you get up to? He is the love of your life after all. Don't forget some shenanigans with a kitten.

a/n: Happy Birthday to one of my best friends on the entire planet! @hwaightme I love you so so so much and I can't believe we've spent almost a year together on this rock! Thank you for always believing in me even when I couldn't and making every day a little brighter with your art and delulu, you mean the absolute world to me and I love our chaos crew! I love you so much! I can't wait for many more! Here's to you!!!! <3 <3 <3 (also thank you my love @pocketjoong for beta-reading <3)

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Dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing, he fell into you like a missing puzzle piece and wamed your heart like a ray of sunshine on a cloudy day. He was there in the time you were studying for your degree and you were there as he and his group traveled across your home, attending his performances was something you had always promised to do whenever you could. He made sure to be there when you had graduated and you made sure that you were at the show for his birthday.

You had moved in together some time ago as you could never be away from each other long enough to keep your own place. Your home was cozy and minimal, it had lego displays and Star Wars memorabilia, a sofa big enough fo every member and yourself in the living space with a tv made for watching movies. The coffee table adorned with “The Star Wars Archives” “Star Wars Art.” and “Cabinet of Natural Curriosities.” A turntable adorned a corner of the room with speakers. Art hung on the wall, some you created, some you both had purchased from art fairs. The color palette was cooler, soft blacks and whites, a few accents of emerald and a pop of gold. Seonghwa had liked it for the rich vibes it gave him. You both had worked hard to make it into a home, this was your home. You remind each other it could be a cardboard box and it’d feel like home if you were together.

After what felt like Seonghwa being gone forever you both had settled on a date night, and while all your outdoor plans had been rained out or cancelled due to the weather you could still make the most of it. Grabbing umbrellas and ponchos you head to the local department store to pick up a few things, a lego set, snacks, a book or two, a puzzle, and a movie to potentially watch later.

“Okay I’ll start organizing the pieces into categories.” you said sitting at the now cleared off coffee table lego box open.

“Okay I’ll see where we should start.” Seonghwa smiled at you.

Lego building always starts peaceful but about halfway through you both are arguing if that’s the correct piece or if it’s actually the piece you’re holding because it looks more like the picture that way, you decide to make hot chocolate to get away from him and cool off because after all it is a silly argument, Lego building is very serious in this household, just ask your cat…also named Lego. The sweetest little black kitten with the brightest roud boba eyes. Seonghwa as a cat as you describe to your friends.

After your adventures in lego building you decide to do something a little active to wake up so maybe a few rounds of Just Dance, or as Hwa suggested a Youtube tutorial on aerobics. Then of course neither of you could decide on reading or the puzzle so you decide to snuggle up on the sofa and he reads to you while you lean against him, adjusting his glasses when they start sliding off his face since his arms are too full of you to keep them on his nose. You journey back to the lego building but of course you become distracted when Lego begins chasing the light reflected off your phone onto the floor. Your giggles becoming his favorite sound on the planet.

As the date night came to a close you made his favorites for dinner, a proper feast even. He held you close as you cleaned the kitchen and began waltzing with you as if in one of those old time movies with the big poofy dresses and gloves, him in a three piece suit. In reality you’re both in glasses and pajamas laughing as you stumble around the kitchen and listen to him humming. Finally settling in for the night back on the couch watching Kiki’s Delivery Service.

“Maybe we should get Lego, a Jiji.” Seonghwa smiled down at you.

“You sure you can handle two cats and a girlfriend Hwa?” you smiled back slightly.

“Well I’d have you to help out now wouldn’t I.” he pinched you slightly. You yelpped out in surprise.

“Yah! Park Seonghwa!” you hit him with a pillow.

“What’s like without a little spontaneity” he smiled and held your arms above your head before crashing his lip down on yours.

Lego jumped up on the table and let out a mighty roar. A tiny baby meow that stopped you both in your tracks.

“Yes sir Lego?” Seonghwa looked at the kitten who has yelled at his father.

“I think he said ‘Stop attacking mom.’” you chuckled from under the love of your life.

“She did start it Lego.” Hwa chuckled and scooped the kitten into his arms.

“Okay maybe we do need another cat since I now have no cat and no cuddles Hwa.” you pout gently.

“Well then, my little witch needs her Jiji doesn’t she?” he smiled and passed Lego into your arms and held you both close. “See this works much better doesn’t it.”

“It does……..PARK SEONGHWA!” you practically launched the kitten across the sofa and turned to hit the man who once again has found it in his enjoyment to torture his poor significant other while the cuddle on the couch.

“Have I ever told you how much I loved you.” he smiled as he stared into your eyes like they held the stars in the sky. 

“You could stand to mention it more now that you’re here.” you stuc your tongue out at him.

“I love you very much darling. Very. Very. Much.” he emphasized each very with a kiss to your lips. 

“You’ve now distracted me through the whole movie.” you chuckle and push him up gently.

“Alright alright, I give.” he sat back up and let you get comfortable.

It wasn’t long before the warmth of the blanket mixed with you partner in crime, a soft movie, and full stomach from too many snacks and tea began to drift you off to sleep.

“I do love you very very much my darling.” Seonghwa kissed the top of your head as you breathed peacefully without a care in the world.  Yes dating Seonghwa was as easy as breathing.

Bonus:

You awoke the next morning, it still dark and damp from the non-stop rain of the night, the soft patter on the window, Seonghwa arrived with a coffee just how you like it and his laptop under his arm.

“Good Morning Darling.” he smiled softly as you sat up and took the coffee.

“Mmm Mornin’ ” you mumbled.

“I was browsing for our very own Jiji this morning while I was waiting for your coffee to finish, I think I found the perfect one. Sure she’s not a black cat like the movie but-”

“She’s perfect Hwa.” you looked at the photo of the mostly black cat with a sweet little white star patch over her chest.

[jenoslutie]

hot tub lovin' l y.jh

nsfw mdni. 18+

pairing: bf!jeonghan x f!reader

warnings: public sex, hot tub sex, no fear of being caught lol.., riding, begging, choking, praising, degradation, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n: this is the result of the influence of these pics as well as my beautiful wife @hanniesbrat 🩷

You and Jeonghan are finally on a well deserved vacation, finally winding down after days upon days of stress and exhaustion. you’d spent the whole day out and exploring the city with the love of your life. going to all the famous tourist spots where jeonghan forced you to pose for pictures because you ‘look so pretty’ and all the pretty cafés where you both tried an array of pastries that you’d never tried before. your day went amazing, you’d say. but it was finally time to relax after a day full of exploring and walking. 

It's 9pm and you’re both heading out to the indoor pool at your hotel. it seemed as if everyone was asleep, you hadn’t seen a single person since you got back and granted the pool closed at 10pm, you were sure no one else was gonna come in anyways. 

“You’re gorgeous, baby” Jeonghan breathed out, lowering himself into the hot tub slowly, eyes on you, clad in a bikini that did little to hide anything. 

“You’re not too bad yourself” Your smile was big watching your boyfriend scoot closer to you and throw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you in closer. “Thank you for today, Jeonghan” Truthfully, this vacation wouldn’t have happened without Jeonghan, if he didn’t plan everything out and surprise you with it, you don’t think you'd go on a vacation until way later. 

“Anything for you my baby” He smiled down at you, leaning down to kiss you. His lips were soft, like always, they always felt so perfect on your own lips. Like they were made to kiss you. Your hand trailed over his bare chest, trailing further down all the way until you could palm his cock through his swim trunks. “Anything?” A hopeful glint in your eyes, a low groan escaped his lips. “You know I’d do anything for you,” 

“Then, can you fuck me here?” You batted you eyelashes at him, pouting to the best of your ability. 

“You’ll have to work for it then, get on top of me?” With no hesitation, you climbed into his lap, moving to grind on his semi hard cock. “Jeonghan,” You breathed grinding down on him with more pressure this time “‘M so wet, can i put it in, please?” He replied a ‘yes’, his tone mirroring yours. Raising your hips up to give him enough room to pull his swim trunks down, enough to pull his cock out while you made quick work in removing your bikini bottoms, only slipping it off one leg. Climbing back onto his lap, guiding the head of his cock to nestle between your folds before sinking down on his cock slowly. The both of you moaned loud, the feeling of his cock filling you up made you feel giddy in a way, “You’re so big,” A genuine smile adorning your face when he finally bottomed out in you. Jeonghan only managed to moan out in return, trying his best to keep his noises at bay. You on the other hand, the more you bounced on his cock, the louder you were moaning, with no care in the world to who could walk in or walk by. 

“God, you’re so fucking loud. Do you know that? Do you really want everyone to know how slutty you are?” That only made you moan louder, throwing your head back as you tried your best to keep riding him despite the difficulty caused by the water. 

“Don’t care– your cock feels so fucking good” Jeonghan knew there was no point of trying to get you to quiet down, he didnt even want to. Truthfully he didn't even care if you got caught, as long as his baby’s happy, so is he. So instead of telling you to quiet down, he brought his hand, previously resting on your hip, down to rub circles on your clit–your weakness, and he knew it. 

He couldn't help giving in as well, moaning out loud himself when he felt you squeeze him impossibly tight. “You’re going to cum aren’t you?” Jeonghan mused. He didnt need you to tell him you were close, he could tell. From the way your movements became more laboured than before, to the way you got louder and then finally, when you started grinding down on him. “I need to, Jeonghan, I need to cum.” his hands wrapped around your throat, his fingers tightened around your throat but it didn’t even matter, you found yourself silently screaming Jeonghan’s name as you rolled your hips down on Jeonghan’s cock, feeling your walls spasm as you came around him. As soon as your post orgasm state wore off, you pushed yourself to start riding him again, “Please cum Jeonghan, please fill me up. I need to feel your cum inside me, I want it so much.” It only takes a few more thrusts for him to bring his hands back to your hips and press you down, burying himself deep inside your cunt and releasing his hot load inside you. Thick spurts of cum fill you up as he moans your name like you're the only people around. Jeonghan fucks his cum deeper inside you. Holding you close, like you’d slip away if he hadn’t. 

“God, I needed this so bad.” 

[daydreaming-nerd]

OMG I need pregnant reader x bat boys

That first one was so good thank you for that!! 🩷🩷

Pregnant Reader x Bat Boys (drabble)

This is part 2 to You Want A Baby?

AN: Ahh this was so highly requested I'm sorry it took so long. Also i've never really done a drabble and this is defiantly too long but I wanted to feed y'all as best I could.

Warnings: Pregnancy (duh), child birth, talks of sex?, not proof read (sry after writing Young Love Old Money 5 last night my hands hurt)

Of course your mates got you pregnant on the first try. They were the three most powerful males in the Night Court.

The day you found out was like any other, you were quietly reading while Cassian and Azriel were in Windhaven and Rhys was busy doing paperwork.

The sickness had been building all day and at finally come to it's precipice.

After about an hour of throwing up you went to see Madja who confirmed you were indeed pregnant.

You wanted to run home and tell Rhys right away but it didn't seem fair to your other two mates

So you warded yourself to keep your scent hidden and waited till Azriel and Cassian got home.

You sat on the edge of the bed the waiting for the boys to come to bed, clad in nothing but my black silk nightgown (this one was a present from Rhys)

The boys stalked in and the picture of me sitting innocently on our shared bed had them taking their shirts off.

It wasn't uncommon for you all to release built up tension after a long hard day, especially when the boys had to deal with Devlon.

"Wait there's something I wanna show you first," you smile standing up.

"Something you want to show us?" Rhys laughed knowing that when it came to the bedroom it was often the other way around.

You couldn't keep from smirking as you let the ward around me drop, my scent filling the room.

They inhaled long and slow before their eyes snapped open.

"You're?" Azriel asked.

"Pregnant," you smile watching as a million emotions float across their faces.

A beat of silence passes and then...

"WOOO HOOO!" Cassian roared. "We did it brothers!" he boasted clapping each of them on the back.

All of them came over to me to give me sniff, as if your new scent was addicting. You had to crane your neck up to meet all their happy faces.

"How far along are you?" Rhys asked caressing my face.

"Not very, only 6 weeks," you. smile feeling their warm hands roam my body.

"Well you certainly smell good," Azriel smiles burying his nose in my hair.

"Really?" you ask.

"YES," they all said in unison.

Cassian's hands find the hem of the night gown and start to lift it up peering underneath curiously.

"Cassain if you even think about putting your dick anywhere near her right now I will fucking kill you," Rhys growls.

"I'm not I'm trying to see if she's showing yet," Cassian said, eyes squinting.

"Cass it's too early for her to be showing," Azriel laughed at his brothers antics.

"Well she defiantly is, take a look." Cassian smiled pulling me flush to him and lifting my nightgown more so his brothers could see.

Rhys and Azriel squinted their eyes, clearly trying to see what wasn't there as Cass slid a hand over my belly.

"Cassian darling I think that's just my dinner," you laugh.

"speaking of dinner did you eat enough?" Rhys asked.

and so it began.

Ever since the boys had found out all chaos had erupted.

At first they wanted you to stay in the townhouse at all times. Literally locking you up and throwing away the key

That idea took you a long time to talk them out of but eventually you did.

Then came Rhys arguing that you needed at least 5 wards. Which Cassian and Azriel objected to as they wanted full access to you AND the baby.

Evetually you all settled on one ward. Strong enough to keep threats at bay, but weak enough so Cass and Az could touch you and your bump whenever they liked.

Speaking of bump, Cassian was determined to do a bump update everyday.

The man was DYING to see you with a bump.

"You think the baby will have wings?" you asked innocently while we all laid in bed.

Every night it was a fight for who got to sleep next to you as you unfortunately had an odd number of mates.

"Of course it'll have wings, look at it's fathers," Azriel smirked rubbing a hand over your belly.

"I don't know I wasn't in my Illyrian form when it was conceived," Rhysand states, his words reverberation through me from where my head was perched on his chest.

"Pfft please, I already told you it's mine," Cassian boasted from behind Rhys, clearly being an instigator since he wasn't getting to sleep next to me tonight.

"Cassian," Azriel warns.

"I know , I know. We don't care who got her knocked up just so long as she IS knocked up," Cassian smirks.

"Okay but what if the baby doesn't have wings?" I ask once more.

"Then we'll fuck another one into you until you have one that does," Rhys smiled pressing a kiss to my brow

"Oh we're putting another one in her either way. I want a whole litter of children." Cassian divuldged.

"You want that princess?" Azriel asked rubbing lazy circles over my barley there bump.

"Yeah I think I do." I smile.

The boys were territorial when you were barley showing, but the second the numerous dresses Rhys bought you couldn't cover the bump that's when things got scary.

The shadows. The fucking shadows

They were fucking everywhere.

Azriel had been freaking out ever since your guys walk the other day.

You had been taking in the fresh air of spring when a unknowing passerby slammed into you nearly knocking you over.

"WATCH IT!" Azriel screamed in his face his grip on the mans shirt like a vice.

The poor shopkeeper just about wet himself before running off.

"Now was that really necessary?" you asked, crumbs falling out of your mouth from the 3rd chocolate croissant you had eaten that day.

"He nearly knocked down my pregnant mate, he's lucky I let him off with a warning," Azriel murmured clearly still pissed.

"You Illyrian babies," I roll my eyes finsishing off the croissant.

Azriel just sighed and dug his hand into the paper sack to pull out my 4th pastry.

Ever since then his shadows seemed to follow you everywhere.

If you dropped something? The shadows would pick it up.

If you had troubles walking? there was always a dark mass helping you to the bathroom for the 10th time that day.

Every time the baby kicked? The shadows swirled around you to make sure you were okay.

And boy did that baby kick...

Cassian was the first to feel it.

It was a rainy night at home, Cassian was sleeping next to your belly whispering sweet nothings to it when it happened. He nearly jumped out of his skin, and you nearly did too from the pain.

"Ahh!" you hissed in pain.

"Darling what is it? Are you hurt?" Rhys fussed, leaving his desk to be there in an instant.

"What did you do?" Azriel growled at Cassian who was still staring wide eyed at your bump.

"I'm fine he didn't do anything. The baby is just kicking." I grit out feeling another thump.

I blindly reach out and grab one of my mates hands and press it to my stomach.

I watched as the scarred hand flinched at the kick.

"Oh my god I can feel it," Azriel beamed, his eyes glassing over.

"Move I want to feel," Rhys ordered

Azriel was too hypotized to care.

"I am your High Lord, move" Rhys ordered once more and I swear the room shook.

"I'm getting kinda tired of that phrase too aren't you Cass?" Azriel rolled his eyes.

"Yeah she's our mate too," cassian grumbled.

They spent the night taking turns getting to feel the baby which became a nightly occurrence.

Out of all your mates Rhys was the most doting. He had an entire wing built onto the townhouse for the baby.

He even used his magic to enchant the ceiling of the nursery to look like the night sky so it would be starfall in there every night.

Rhys didn't like to admit it, but he loved baby shopping with you.

"Oh Rhys look at this one can we get it?" you smile holding up a little onesie.

"Yes darling of course," he chuckled in amusement, he had probably heard that phrase a million times.

Your eyes scanned the shop of onesies and cribs, you already nearly everything in the store. But the shop owner always made sure to let you know when there was a new shipment as she knew Rhys would buy his pregnant mate just about anything she asked for.

"Oh my god Rhys please the baby is going to need this," I shout holding up the bat plushy. "Please, please, please, pleaseeeee"

Rhys laughs walking over to me to take my hands in his.

"Darling how many times do I have to tell you? You can have whatever you want." he smiles placing a hand on my bump and pressing a kiss to my forehead.

Fae labor was no joke, there wasn't a single aspect that didn't hurt like hell.

Rhys didn't send Cassian or Azriel away on any missions in the weeks leading up to your due date so they could be there.

Your water broke when you were standing in the kitchen reaching for a glass on the top shelf.

The scream you let out is enough to have Cassian running in from the other room.

"What is it princess? Are you okay?" He asked kneeling down to where I sat on the floor.

"The baby is coming," I winced through the pain, taking Cassian's hand in mine and squeezing with all my might.

That was the good thing about having big, strong Illyrian's as mates. They were fucking durable.

"oh shit," Cassain murmered his eyes searching for some kind of answer of what to do. "RHYS! AZRIEL! THE BABY IS COMING!"

My other two mates winnowed there are lighting speed from where ever they were in the house.

It wasn't long until Rhys had me in his arms winnowing us all to Madja.

"Help her please," he pleaded, my cries of pain clearly affecting him.

Madja had Rhys bring me into the birthing suite and lay me down. I could see the worry on all my mates eyes as they watched me write in pain, sweat grazing my brow.

"How can we help?" Azriel pleaded.

"You can't, you must leave us to work," she said referring to the other healers already pressing cold towels to my face.

"Over my dead body do I leave her side right now," Cassian grumbled.

"Do you want her to die? You'll only be in the way general. Use your head." she argued ushering them out and locking the doors.

The hours in between the closing of the doors and finally giving birth were brutal, not only for yo but for your mates.

They sat outside the door and listened to your screams the entire time.

Azriel nearly ripped his hair out from the sounds of them.

They nearly jumped to their feet at the sound of a baby crying from inside.

But then they heard you a screaming again.

Any happiness died out.

After a few minutes they heard the baby crying again and your screams stopped.

15 minutes later Madja came out holding not one but two small bundles in her arms.

"congratulations, you are the proud fathers of two healthy baby boys," she beamed.

Twins

Rhys and Cassian took the twin boys in their arms, as Azriel was too scared to touch them at first.

"They have wings," Cassian beamed running his hand over the tiny wings.

"Is she?" Rhys asked Madja.

"The mother is perfectly healthy. She needs to nurse the babies, but she insisted that I bring them to you first." Madja smiled.

"can we see her?" Azriel asked.

"Of course you can," Madja said.

The boys carried the twin babies in to see you once more.

You reached out your hands for the one in Rhys arms, the oldest, by a few minutes. He gave him to you and thankfully he latched right away.

"You did so well mate," Azriel said placing a kiss on your forehead.

"How did you boys manage to put twins in me on the first try?" You rasped out, voice still horse.

"If you recall it was no small feat," Cassain smiled.

After feeding them both you slept soundly.

While Cassain and Rhys might've been the first to hold your sons, Azriel was the first one to fall asleep with them. One in each arm.

Taglist: @crystalferret202, @nickishadow139, @eerievixen, @why4anne, @loglady00, @heartless-tate, @callsigns-haze, @fxckmiup, @highladyivy, @highladyivy

Permanent taglist: @fides25

[lay-z]

Thinking about steamy shower sex with a pent up and touch starved soap after his deployment, you would have sent him countless teasing pictures and videos throughout his mission and now he is aching to get bay back by hoisting you up and pressing against the glass door of the shower cabin with your legs wrapped around his muscular and chiseled waist/hips. Could you please write something about that ? I'm definitely aching to read it with your writing style

Thank you for your ask, nonny! 🥰 Since you didn’t specify a gender, I’m going to go with female!Reader since that’s what I always do. Btw, I’d totally write for a x male!Reader if someone would request something. *hint hint* 👀 And if you can’t tell, I am a huge slut for desperate and needy men 😩 Sorry if this isn’t exactly what you’d asked for! 🩷 xoxo

MDNI, 18+ | tw: slight cnc kink; shower sex; needy/desperate!Soap; unprotected sex/creampie; premature ejaculation; not proof-read

Johnny catches you off guard while you’re taking a shower; singing and performing for an imaginary crowd like you always do when you’re in a particularly good mood.

Your eyes are squeezed shut to keep the shampoo from stinging them; the hot shower stream is pelting down on your flushed skin, steaming up the cabin and turning the glass foggy while your head it tipped back as you wash the suds from your hair, still humming a tune like a true Disney princess.

You stand no chance like this. Johnny could hear you as soon as he’d unlocked the front door to your shared flat, dropping his heavy duffel back in the entrance hallway and kicking off his boots with a soft huff. His bad knee is aching, his whole body sore like he got run over by a Humvee, but he can deal with the physical pain.

It’s the way his chest feels tight and hollow simultaneously, his rugged features set in an emotionless frown, which has him more worried as he passes by the small vintage mirror mounted above the shoe rack in the hallway. He’s practically gone non-verbal since stepping foot onto the airfield back on base. His dark stubble has grown out as much as his Mohawk, the bags under his eyes darker; his usually bright eyes now dull with fatigue, giving him a grim expression.

With his last shreds of energy, he starts peeling off his combat clothes on his way towards the bathroom, groaning under his breath as he pulls the tight compression shirt over his head, muscles screaming and aching with the effort as he lifts his arms up. His pants follow, along with his boxer briefs, and Johnny wrinkles his nose at his own body odour; the stench of sweat and blood and death lingering in every crease, caked into his pores. Steamin’ Jesus, he smells ripe…

But you’ll make it better, you always do. He can already feel your phantom touch on his bruised skin; soft palms running over his body, slicked up by nicely scented soap and warm water, and you’ll learn it all anew after weeks apart from each other. Johnny lets out a shuddering groan while his cock starts swelling and twitching, blood rushing in his veins by the sheer imagination of you touching him.

He doesn’t announce himself, can’t even crack a smile at the sight of you, when he sneaks into the bathroom. He’s not even trying to be quiet, but the way his mind is still in the field, makes him watch his steps and open the door in a way that’s silent.

When he slips into the shower cabin behind you, still so blissfully unaware of his presence, his chest expands with a deep breath, inhaling the moist and sweet air. His cock is rock hard, ruddy tip weeping against his lower stomach, coating his bushy pubes with his thick precum; thick and milky, because he hasn’t come in days and his balls are hurting as bad as the rest of his body.

Your eyes shoot open despite the suds still running down your face when you’re grabbed from behind; lungs burning with a sudden, instinctual shriek ripped from your throat, though it’s immediately muffled by a large, grubby hand clasping over your mouth while another strong arm wraps around your midriff, pinning your arms to your sides before pulling your back flush against a solid and equally naked body.

You know it’s him, your Johnny. There is no one else, beside his teammates perhaps, who could break into your flat. The feeling of his body moulding itself behind you, his hand over your mouth, lips latching onto and biting down on the curve of your shoulder while his beard irritates your warm skin – it’s all too familiar to be anyone else. Still, your heart is hammering violently against your ribcage while the lack of oxygen in your lungs is slowly making you dizzy. You slump back against Johnny and he catches you with a pleased rumble in his buff, hairy chest.

“Missed ye.” That’s all he murmurs against your ear at first, gruff and raspy like he hasn’t spoken all day, while your blood keeps rushing with adrenaline; shower stream still steadily raining down on you.

You whimper against his palm, in the far back of your throat, nostrils’ flaring with sharp intakes of breath as your body tries to calm down from the initial shock.

His arm loosens around your waist and he rubs his hand in large circles over your soft, wet stomach instead, wanting to get rid of the dirt and grime before he’d even consider touching your delicate pussy, no matter how desperate he’s feeling for you.

“Need ye, hen,” he mutters, tongue flicking your ear lobe while his hand over your mouth cups you right below your jaw next, “Need ta feel yer warm cunny squeezin’ ma cock. Fuck–! Can I?”

When you’re able to slip your arms free of his grasp, you reach for his hand on your belly, lifting it up to inspect it for any new cuts and bruises as you wash it for him while he’s already grinding his cock against your ass cheeks, his breathing becoming ragged against the nape of your neck. You can already tell in what state of mind he’s in, your poor, sweet Johnny.

And you’re not even ashamed of how slick your pussy has gotten since Johnny grabbed you, when there was a split second when your brain and body had braced themselves for–

Something dark and twisted you shouldn’t be thinking about right now.

“Missed you, too, baby,” you manage to reply when his now clean hand slips between your thighs to cup your pussy. “Take what you need. I’m all yours.”

Johnny whines, breath catching in his chest when he can already feel his balls tighten, painfully so, while his meaty fingers drag through your smooth folds, feeling your warmth and slick arousal, before he rubs your swelling clit roughly. Your flesh is soft and warm, supple under the pressure of his fingertips, unlike the cold steel and metal he’s been handling for the past weeks on his deployment.

He snarls and huffs against your shoulder when your quaking thighs squeeze his prodding hand after he slipped two fingers into your sopping hole at once, and he fingers you slowly and deeply until he feels your velvety walls loosen up around his digits, clamping down whenever he curls his fingers to nudge your sweet spot while he gropes your sudsy tits and tugs on your pretty nipples with his other hand, keeping you pressed against his body.

But his patience and need for you start to overwhelm him as his cock keeps straining and leaking against your ass, begging to be sheathed inside of your welcoming cunt with a mind of its own.

“Turn ‘round f’me,” he growls, already turning you around to him by your shoulders to finally catch a glimpse of your beautiful face and heated gaze. His cock twitches; another desperate whine is torn from his throat. “C’mere.”

He positions his feet carefully on the ceramic tiles, braces himself to support both your bodies as he lifts you up by the back of your thighs, fingers digging into skin and fat as he hoists you up and pushes you against the slippery shower wall. When your back arches away from the sudden chill of the tiles and your lips part with a breathy gasp, Johnny doesn’t hesitate to crush his lips onto yours, licking into your mouth obscenely just to feel and taste as much as he can at once.

He keeps your thighs spread wide apart and pliant for him, his own hips slotting between your legs, muscles bunching and flexing with exertion as he keeps you pinned against the wall while your arms wrap around his muscular shoulders. He’s grimacing at the burning ache in his body as he holds you, but he needs you. Fuck, he needs you so badly; panting and groaning into your mouth, brows furrowed in concentration as he grinds his flushed cock against your folds desperately.

And his eyes squeeze shut with a shuddering breath when you reach down between your bodies to grasp his thick cock and push it into your quivering hole for him.

His head drops forward with a rough moan, so loud and desperate that it resonates inside the bathroom, and his forehead rests against your collarbone as he sinks deeper into your warm, welcoming channel without any resistance. He can tell that you’re aroused for him, that you need him as much as he needs you, and it nearly makes him dizzy.

His muscles start trembling when he starts thrusting slowly and shallowly, barely able to move at all while his ass cheeks tighten and flex as your cunt flutters around his shaft, sucking him in deeper until he bottoms out. The way you moan so sweetly for him and the warm water raining down on the both of you continuously, only adds to the pleasurable sensations, forcing Johnny to relax and cave in while the tight coil in his belly teeters on snapping already.

Johnny grits his teeth and can barely speak, his words coming out a garbled mess. “Fuck–F-Fuck… ‘m gonna cum, hen. ‘m so sorry.”

He apologizes, feels terrible for disappointing you like this again, but you simply wrap your arms tighter around his neck, holding him together and breaking him apart as you whisper sweet nothing’s into his ear. His balls tighten and the pressure almost brings him to his knees, but he manages to catch himself at the last moment before he cries out and buries his face into your neck to muffle his pathetic sounds while his cock pumps his thick load into your eager pussy, coating and claiming your gummy walls with his cum.

“I’m sorry, ‘m sorry.” Johnny keeps chanting and whining against your wet skin, mouthing along the curve of your neck while he keeps rolling his hips into you desperately, fucking himself through overstimulation and exhaustion just to try and make you feel good, too, while you hush and coo praises into his ear, carding your fingers through his hair soothingly.

[starrysvn]

BAI. BAI. BAI WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. OH I AM- I AM SOBBING AND YODELING AND SCREAMING AND DOING LAPS AROUND THE ROOM ARE YOU KIDDING I LOVE YOU SO INCREDIBLY MUCH. HERE WE GO WITH MY YODELING: 

He wanted to destroy the walls of his room. He wanted to break the glass, fight the agony of the sorrowful monster eating away at his soul with physically radical action, anything to take his mind away from the fact that you were thousands of miles away, and that when he was cursed to be awake, you were in dreamland. He could not even protect you from the nightmares that you sometimes had. He could not keep you close. You were unable to run your hands through his inky black, long and tousled locks as a way to calm yourself. Why was he doomed to sacrifice the heavenly touches and sweet words in favour of roaming the globe like a madman, screaming the same things into a microphone until they lost all meaning?

this hit. hard. oh my. i feel the anger, the desperation, longing, the need to manifest inner destruction into outer one. reflect the strength of emotion onto a pristine inanimate surrounding. the need to be close to love, physically. aND ALSO THE NIGHTMARE YEAH I’M YELLING. I AM AND WHAT ABOUT IT? HOW DO YOU KNOW I HAD A NIGHTMARE???? BAI ARE YOU IN THE WALLS??

The only sign of his undying devotion that he dared to expose with shameless pride was the tiny red band around his pinkie, a simple line alluding to the string of fate, of soulmates.

yEAH. EXACTLY. ALMOST YEETED MY PHONE. WOKE UP THE HOUSEHOLD. THE PINKY STRING OF FATE TATTOOS?????? I’M INSANE.

“I want to fly to you,”

here we go. my poor poor heart. the fragility in this oh, my.

“I-… Y/N I… I love you so much, you know that, right?” The confession turned query was choked, feeble, fragile, an offering made of the thinnest glass. One that you would protect with your life.

PROTECT WITH YOUR LIFE, I- just the idea of a broken down hwa in a hotel room makes me want to punch a wall.

The longer Seonghwa stared at the wall, the more confident he became in the fact that he could see you standing there in front of him, and as the words began to pour, it was you who he was confiding in. When with you, he was not afraid.

AND I KEEP TALKING TO THE WALL TILL HE’S A FRIEND OF MINE!!!!!!! this is so precious, the way the sees them, confides in them even though they’re not there, i’m so so soft and he is so so in love i-

“Distance is measured in miles, and in how strongly you feel them. This is ‘Timezone’,”

WHEN I TELL YOU. I HAD TO SIT UP. PONDER LIFE FOR A MINUTE. YOU GENIUS THIS HIT SO HARD. I LOVE U.

“I’m home, Y/N,” he mumbled into your hair before pulling you even closer to him, arms wound tight around your body, fingers dancing on your back as though he was still in disbelief that you were here.

i cried. yeah. i did. and so what. sO WHAT?? i just see it all too well, you brought him to life in the most beautiful, heartfelt way there is.

bai i love you. this was the best surprise. you are an angel and a wonderful, talented, amazing, brilliant, beautiful being.

Timezone

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🎸 pairing: rockstar!fiance!seonghwa x gn!reader 🎸 genre: fluff, long distance angst, established long-term relationship 🎸 summary: "Only thing that keeps us apart // Is a different timezone" - TIMEZONE by Måneskin; during a long tour, the only thing seonghwa wants is to come home to you, and to hold you in his arms 🎸 wordcount: 3.2k total 🎸 warnings/tags: not edited, language, songfic, enamoured simping activated, seonghwa misses you intensely, he is one step away from swimming to you, seonghwa has tattoos and lip piercings, lyricist producer musician rock singer hwa good luck to us all, words of endearment/pet names (baby, angel... etc) 🎸 taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 🎸 a/n: this is for @starrysvn the most wonderful, beautiful soul. thank you for being who you are, ilysm. and may this small manifestation of our shared delulus bring some sunshine~

There was no salvation for a heart that was on the verge of breaking. No call could replace the sensation of a lover’s whisper, no video could replace the feeling of skin against skin nor of a warm and reassuring embrace. The myriad of details that made you who you were seemed to be slipping through Seonghwa’s fingers, and he was a desperate man drowning in quicksand of responsibility and routine.

Every chord was a strike of the coldest and sharpest blade on his tired body, and the sweat trickling down his face as he yelled his emotions to thousands masked the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was unbelievable, how in the faces of millions the only features he could ever make out were those that resembled yours. In every cheer he could only hear you, how you could make his name sound like magic. The lyrics – a simple selection of syllables, words, always fell short of describing how he felt, and every song appeared trivial compared to the fire in his heart, to your existence in his life.

Too many miles separated you, and he would be damned if he were to say that he was fine with it. This was the unbelievable curse of his work. An artist, a singer, a musical innovator who had evolved from being in a group of hoodlums with a dream to being in a star-studded collective, a band that was paving the way for many others and inspiring loyal and new fans to reach the stars with them. But where was his star? Even when surrounded by the speakers, side by side with his friends on those grand global stages, this question never left Seonghwa’s mind. Losing sight of what he truly desired, he ran into an oblivion.

After the concerts, it was customary for the young man to spend some time with his fans, still on an adrenaline rush and thus were expecting interaction, further connection, and insights into the most recent performance. However, tonight, he could not even begin to find the energy to press the right button. Claiming that he was feeling a little under the weather, Seonghwa delegated the role of publicity man to another member and hobbled to his hotel room, collapsing onto the bed sheets not caring for the state of his clothes, his hair, nor for the creases that were undoubtedly going to form. This was no issue.

The electric guitar, his trusted comrade in composition and emotional turmoil, was left in a black case on the floor. Stickers marking the cities he had visited decorated a portion of the surface, while the rest was another depiction of you. Scurrying off the bed, he erratically shot to the case and brought it up with him, letting it rest by his side so he could admire the artwork more closely. Over many days, you had decided to surprise him by painting the dark leather, echoing famous renaissance pieces and intricate flora. Impeccable, incorporating nods to his and your lives through symbolism, be it in the hint of a star ship, a guitar pick, or a paintbrush hidden in foliage, it was a reminder of a life that he always wanted to live and to keep close.

He wanted to destroy the walls of his room. He wanted to break the glass, fight the agony of the sorrowful monster eating away at his soul with physically radical action, anything to take his mind away from the fact that you were thousands of miles away, and that when he was cursed to be awake, you were in dreamland. He could not even protect you from the nightmares that you sometimes had. He could not keep you close. You were unable to run your hands through his inky black, long and tousled locks as a way to calm yourself. Why was he doomed to sacrifice the heavenly touches and sweet words in favour of roaming the globe like a madman, screaming the same things into a microphone until they lost all meaning? Seonghwa missed you. Violently. Painfully. Aggressively. If it took raising hell to elevate him to your heaven before he would ultimately crumble, he would choose to do so in a heartbeat.

His hands inadvertently travelled into the pocket of his flared jeans, fishing out the device which he had been glued to for the full duration of his tour. At any spare second. Lockscreen – your smiling face, surrounded by the scenery of his hometown when you two went for a visit over the holidays. Tapping in the date of your birthday, he came face to face with a photo where you two were together – a candid picture snapped by his closest friend and fellow band member during a celebratory dinner; you two laughing at a joke shared between yourselves, so in love that every part of you and him were intertwined. Seonghwa wanted to break himself apart. Take his heart and mind out and douse them in cold water so that at least for a moment he could have some space to breathe before ultimately repeating: you, you you again. Fingers flying to tap onto the messaging app you preferred to use most often, though the two of you had conversations going on almost every piece of social media, he scrolled through your chats, relistened to the voice messages and scrutinised every photo until it was re-imprinted in his brain. As if he could ever forget in the first place.

He would likely be a laughingstock, wouldn’t he? A man with the world at his feet, wanting nothing more than to collapse at the feet of another. Sure, his fans were no strangers to the fact that there was ‘a special someone’ in his life, though since he made sure to keep his private matters truly secure, no one knew who was the reason why he woke up even when the day was promising challenge and turmoil. The only sign of his undying devotion that he dared to expose with shameless pride was the tiny red band around his pinkie, a simple line alluding to the string of fate, of soulmates. One night, not too long ago even though it seemed that you knew each other for your entire lives, when you had the chance to spend time together without worrying about work matters and could let time trickle past while stargazing, he proposed. Perhaps it was not traditional, the four words uttered only in passing after you had already blessed him with your agreement. Instead Seonghwa had suggested the permanence of a tattoo as a symbol for your love, and revealed his faith and devotion. Written in the stars, he found his guidance in you. Just like the constellations, galaxies and mythical creatures permanently etched on his skin, he wanted to live the neverending story with you.

As he shifted his grip on the phone to glance at the red band, Seonghwa could not help but imagine what you could be doing right this second. Could you be stirring from sleep? Could you be getting ready for another day at work? How was that one personal project you picked up going? He hammered out letter after letter on driven by what had to be an external power, so much mightier than him. The rockstar bit his lower lip, feeling a tug on one of the piercings, but that made him simply bite down harder.

I’m losing my mind.

Without hesitation, he sent the message into the void, hoping that you would not be too worried and simply accept it as one of his eccentricities as an artist. Finally, he tugged off the leather jacket that had been clinging onto his body, suffocating him, and collapsed back onto the bed. Exhaustion was a beast weighing down on him and pushing him into the mattress. Nothing but a lonely carcass, Seonghwa imagined himself as carrion left for the devouring by devious promoters, producers, agents and the like. Freedom was an interesting concept in his industry. Did he have it? Or was it the case that as soon as he gave into a dream, he signed his very being away to be an offering for the money-hungry world? He was definitely going mad. He needed you. Seonghwa missed you. Feverish, anxious, he grabbed a fistful of the duvet with his free hand and counted the passing seconds, too many of them, but not as much as the distance between where he was supposed and wanted to be, and where he currently was.

A loud ringing jolted him out of his paralysing ruminations – his phone. He rolled his head to the side, and upon seeing the incoming video call could not be faster in wriggling to rest on the headboard and answer. So you were awake, and in a couple of seconds… there you were, hair in a loose side braid, a familiar vintage t-shirt adorning your shoulders. You were at the desk – your home office, cradling what had to be a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Nothing. Just how you liked it.

“Hi baby,” you greeted him with the warmth of a thousand suns, and soon enough, his smile returned to him too, though still a little weak, beaten down by the weeks spent apart. It was still dark where you were, while for him it was already dark. It was easy to face when with you, however – nothing could be brighter than you.

“You’re wearing my old clothes?” Seonghwa could not help but ask, too curious to refrain from the inquiry. You looked down at the shirt momentarily before lifting your head and nodding.

“Yep. There’s been a change of plans so I am working from home today. And… I wanted to have a day-long hug from my fiancé.”

“You always wear them better, and I wish it were me and not the tee, angel,” he sighed, eyes trailing down what part of you he could see. He might be wrong, but you appeared to be a little tired, dark circles more prominent under your gorgeous eyes, and movements a fraction more lethargic than how they would usually be in the mornings.

“Is that what you were losing your mind over?” you attempted to lighten the mood, but Seonghwa could not play along when the joke was a reality. You caught onto this quickly enough, and paused to look at him more closely.

Seonghwa could feel the intensity of your inspection. It was as though you were reading him like one of the many books you had collected. Basking in the attention from his lover, he leaned further back onto the pillows and let himself think out loud.

“We have another flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, next is the third to last concert, right-”

“I want to fly to you,” the young artist cut you off, staring at nowhere in particular as he voiced his one wish.

“It’s not too long now, Hwa, and then we have a whole month to ourselves. No touring. Home.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, love. But also, I am proud of you. You are bringing dream to reality-“

“Fuck what I’m dreaming. What does all of this mean anyways?” he retorted, making you raise an eyebrow before leaning onto the desk.

“All of this means that you are yourself. You are an artist. A light for so many souls. And if you cannot hear this, then let me remind you that I love you, the you who is so driven, so talented and so hardworking. Park Seonghwa who has been destined to become a star and give hope to millions. You are yourself, and that is what is so precious and iconic about you.”

You had a way with words. You always did. Stepping in when he was at his lowest and managing to drag him out of what he had assumed was an abyss, you were his biggest supporter, cheerleader, muse. When he was afraid to put pen to paper or deemed a melody worthless, you were the one to encourage him to experiment, try things out regardless, and with such strength that now it was a philosophy he abided by; it never hurt to try, and perfection was impossible. What was achievable, however, was satisfaction and happiness with the self. It was more than enough to try. And now, you were the one fearlessly bearing the catastrophic mass that was his worries with the last tour dates.

“Oh how dare you…” he mumbled, lips trembling ever so slightly as he pushed out the words. Involuntarily a mist settled over his eyes, and Seonghwa’s surroundings began to blur.

“No, baby come on, don’t cry, or we’ll be crying together. Let’s stay strong for each other, yeah? Like the dragon you have? Let’s leave the tears for later, and hopefully make the source of them a happy one,” you cooed, your own heart being torn apart as you witnessed your lover’s vulnerability, raw misery expressing itself as the hard exterior of a professional rockstar fell away. The hint at one of his many tattoos made Seonghwa’s mouth twitch into a tiny smile, an adoring gesture to remind your fiancé that you could draw each of the masterpieces from memory, having spent many nights tracing them with your digits.

“I-… Y/N I… I love you so much, you know that, right?” The confession turned query was choked, feeble, fragile, an offering made of the thinnest glass. One that you would protect with your life.

“Hwa, I love you too. So much…”

“Everything makes me think of you…” fatigue was evident, coating his vocal cords thick with a somnolent huskiness.

“Soon, you won’t have to remember me. You will have me in real time. Will you look forward to that for me?”

“Always.”

One topic, another, talking about nothing and everything at once. Trivial matters transformed into beautiful tales. In what had appeared to him to be no time at all, you had to rush into your first meeting of the day, while he was left a little less lonely in the hotel room continents away from you, with only his guitar and your reassuring love to keep him company. A hope, an excitement rekindled in his chest, bubbling up and flying across the bloodstreams into a tingling sensation in the fingertips, and a pleasant, hazy buzz in his brain. Caught between what had to be sleep and delirium, Seonghwa moved exclusively on instinct. In a few movements, he produced a tattered notebook and pen that had listened to his every confession and flipped it to an empty page before setting it down on the sheets.

Carefully, he took the guitar out of its case, and upon checking that it was properly tuned let a few notes hang in the air. The longer Seonghwa stared at the wall, the more confident he became in the fact that he could see you standing there in front of him, and as the words began to pour, it was you who he was confiding in. When with you, he was not afraid. When dedicating yet another song to you, he could not care less for the lack of rest, for how he greeted the dawn. He had a week until the last show, and he sure as hell was going to make full use of it.

The arena was silent aside from a few yells, before they too, succumbed to the suspense. The spotlights were almost blinding, and Seonghwa suddenly felt grateful for the fact that his image allowed for sunglasses. Elegantly perched on the bridge of his nose, they masked his anxiety as he adjusted his microphone, setting it back onto the stand while the rest of the band was exchanging glances and making the last checks before the grand finale, what he had decided would be the last ‘official’ song of the concert, and therefore the tour. Of course, the audience would ask for an encore. Of course, he would step right back out on stage to perform it – the act had already been planned in advance. But it was this song, one that he and his closest friends had spent night and day finalising, recording, even sending off to be made commercial, that would be his final word.

“Distance is measured in miles, and in how strongly you feel them. This is ‘Timezone’,” following the brief introduction, he momentarily shut his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. In that split second, he did not exist. He was not on stage, he was home. Seonghwa could feel your hand on his shoulder and could float in your perfume. This was no different to how he would play for you in the living room – anything you wished for, he would either perform or learn on the spot or even create. So, maybe, just maybe, you will be able to hear him now, too. And how he was calling out for you, and was counting the seconds until he could see you again.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

A roar overtaking expressions of gratitude. With every bow the crowd grew wilder and wilder. Chants praising the song were unfathomably strong, and Seonghwa had no doubt that the videos would go viral. Would you see them? Would you message him after? He did not need the answers to these questions. Not when he almost dropped his guitar as he saw you standing backstage, arms open wide, a staff lanyard around your neck. He was thankful for how you did not mind his sweat-covered arms, his glistening forehead as he pressed himself against you. He was enamoured with how your lips fit perfectly together, piercings and all, as he planted one kiss after another, each one bringing him back to life. He was eternally devoted to every moment with you.

“I told you, soon, didn’t you?” He could not respond, instead choosing to nod lest he break down in the midst of his overwhelming elation, “same timezone…” you altered the lyrics – sunlight after a rainstorm.

“I’m home, Y/N,” he mumbled into your hair before pulling you even closer to him, arms wound tight around your body, fingers dancing on your back as though he was still in disbelief that you were here.

“Welcome home, my love,” he leaned into your hand that reached for his face, letting you cup it. With nothing to keep you two apart, Seonghwa let himself get lost in your eyes, the string of fate winding tighter and tighter until his, and your heart were both glistening in a healing gold, the hints of cracks sealed and more beautiful than ever, standing the test of time, of space, of dreams.

🎸 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

enjoyed? please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. thank you, much love!

[lovifie]

Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel 🩷

Masterlist - Taglist Form

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 (6.5k words!)

LAST CHAPTER

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

(if you are in the mood for some Ghoap smut just go ahead)

Warnings: Poly, where do I begin? Oral sex (m and f receiving), anal sex, vaginal sex, meany Johnny, bottom Ghost, a squint of body worship to reader, threesome (duh), Ghost gets sandwiched for a bit, and Johnny doesn't shut up for a minute

It would be a reach to believe that everything was settled between the three. 

It has been “talked”, but there was still an awkward film over them; that whenever they would lock eyes felt like they were teenagers talking to their crushes. 

Gladly, for everyone, work was still work, and it kept them busy as always. 

The med bay keeping you away from them, on the completely opposite side of the base; taking care of whiny recruits and concealing your smile when they would tell you to tell their loved ones they love them after giving them local anaesthetic.

The days usually going uneventful and alone. Well, not alone. The medical team worked, ate and stayed together. But feeling lonely without the two men. 

On the south side of the base, everyone could tell that Simon and Johnny were a bit… snappy. 

It was almost as if everyone had made a deal to keep them from going to see you. 

Price telling them to organise the training session.

Recruits asking them to help with the training.

Laswell asking Johnny to prepare a lecture on explosives. 

Like? Why was the world making it so hard to slope off? Why was everyone expecting them to do their job they get paid for? 

Absolute nonsense.

Instead, they had to keep sending recruits that kept getting hurt to you. Seeing them whine as they walked, about how they were in pain. Lucky bastards.

So text messages it was. 

“Morning!🩷” Texts, voice notes as you worked on something else, GIFs and Stickers back and forth. 

Reminding Johnny how the newest smartphones worked was the funniest of the afternoon you had spent, especially when he turned on the front camera and he could only see from his eyes up. 

“Shite, that's a big ass forehead. Could land an heli there”

Cue to Simon and you playing tic-tac-toe on his forehead via pics back and forth.

It was far, really far, for a conventional relationship, even for a poly relationship. And although whenever Johnny would managed to send a pic of Simon it made you feel you were an outsider to them; you had to remind yourself that he had taken the photo just to send it to you.

Slowly but surely, your gallery was filling up with pics of their faces, an obscene amount of Johnny's forehead pic as well, and when finally, the inexhaustible flow of scratched soldiers finally started to subdue; you bolted to Simon's room. 

You don't even think of an excuse as to why you are going to see them, and you realize, half way there… that you don't need an excuse. And that simply wanting to see them is a reason good enough. 

It hasn't been easy after the conversations, your mind still telling you they were using you; it was not something you simply forget after a good night sleep. But you still pushed yourself to believe them, that there wasnt any hidden intentions, that they were telling the truth.

The messages, the little calls, the sassy winks from across the training grounds, it all help to ease the feeling of intruding you had been feeling since catching them. Slowly but surely travelling to the back of your mind, to the box of things to be forgotten. Except the box spilled suddenly when you open the door to his room, and find them sitting on his bed.

With Johnny sitting on top of Simon's lap, grinding down against his groyne while their moans and whispers fall on eachother mouths.

Their head whip in your direction at the sound of the door opening. You can see the panic in their eyes, thinking they have been caught; relaxing only when they realize it is you. 

“Shit, wow, sorry, I need to start knocking, ah?” You ask, with an awkward chuckle, you hand still on the knob. “S-sorry, I'll leave you to it.”

You barely move the door an inch before Johnny calls for you. “Bonnie, wait!’

“What?” You ask, still from the door, cheeks red from embarrassment.

“Do you… do you want to join?” Johnny asks, a shyness so improper of him. Looking at you, with a hand on Simon's shoulder and the other extended to you. 

You feel frozen in place. It was something that was going to happen, sooner or later. It shouldn't have caught so much surprise, but you only find your voice when Johnny stands up to walk towards you. “Do… Do you want me to join??” You ask, looking up at him with a timid voice.

“Yes, fuck, yeah we do.”  He answers, a deep chuckle flooding between words. He licks his lips, probably wet from Simon's mouth. His hand still waiting for yours, his eyes soft, awaiting your answer.

“Oh…” You answer, you know, like an idiot. “Okay.” You finally hold his hand and he pulls you closer, a tiny smile on his face. 

From the corner of your eyes you can see Simon move to lay down on the bed, his back pressed to the wall, laying on his side and patting the mattress next to him. Johnny nods with his head towards Simon, telling you to lay down without words and you do. Almost skipping to the bed, crawling to move next to Englishman.

“I like your uniform, lass.” Johnny comments, his wide hand caressing your ass over the clothes. 

You lay down, hugging Simon closely with your head in his chest, buried safely in his arms. And you turn your head to look at Johnny, faux offence in your look. “Respect the uniform, MacTavish.”

Simon's chest rumbles when he laughs deeply, his hand finding his way under your shirt to rub the skin of your back; just like when he found you in the house, pulling you even closer. 

“Darling…” Johnny says, laying himself next to you, sandwiching you between the two men. “I'm about to disrespect your uniform… a lot.”

He uses the lifted shirt from Simon's hand to get his own against your skin; caressing your tummy up to your chest, but still innocent when he only uses it as leverage to push you against him when he feels the need to kiss your cheek squishing your face against Simon's chest.

You giggle against Simon's chest, whining about being squished and slightly pushing Johnny back. He raises his head, being levelled with Simon and looking down at you; they then look up to each other before Simon leans in kissing Johnny. 

You are seeing it upside down, but still clear as day the desire in the kiss. Simon leaned in, eyes closed and you felt his hand on your back lift a finger to hook it on Johnny's sweatpants to pull him closer. Johnny has his eyes just the slightest bit open, barely enough to see the other and he smiles into the kiss.

“Eager, aren't ya?” Johnny whispers, making Simon groan. 

“Shut up, Johnny.” He mumbles back, the hand on your back moving to Johnny's back pulling him closer squashing you in the middle. “I finally have you both”.

When Simon pulls Johnny closer, you feel both of his bulging erections against your body; the make out session clearly intense. 

It makes you turn, switching to lay on your back, still looking up. Simon moves to kiss down Johnny's jaw, kissing his neck, licking up to his ear; Johnny catches you staring, head falling back and mouth open as you shamelessly look at the two men making out, and he winks at you.

You quickly look down, ashamed of getting caught, and you realise then what the weight on your thighs was. On each side of your body, and still trapped in the confines of their sweatpants, both men's growing boners rest over your thighs. 

You feel small between the two massive men, and your hands move on their own when you rest them over the tents on their pants. You press them against your body, making both men groan. You move your hand up, grabbing the waistband pulling it down with their underwear. The thick, uncut member resting freely over your body. 

It's not the first time that you have seen either of them, but it is still a sight to see them side by side. Bobbing at the lack of attention, a tear of precum glistering on Simon's tip. 

You hear Simon talk above you, making you look up to see Johnny looking at you. “Let her do her thing…” is what Simon whispers to Johnny, cupping his face to pull him in for a kiss again. 

Using your elbows to push your back off the mattress, you slide down the bed; your legs hanging from it when you get your head on the same level as their hips. You turn your head, setting your lips around the pinkish tip of Simon's shaft; hearing a grunt at the same time you feel a snap of his hips, not being able to prevent himself from moving. 

You use your hand to massage Johnny's too, feeling the warm feeling of his skin in your hand; while you use the tip of your tongue to lick on Simon's slit, tasting his precum as you hear him whimper into Johnny's mouth. 

With a loud pop, you let go of his shaft, only his head glistering with spit; and your turn your head to give the same treatment to Johnny. Except he lays his wide hand on the side of your head, making you lay your head back on the mattress. 

“Stick yer tongue out, love” You do as he says, keeping your mouth open and your tongue out, the muscle twitching trying to stay still. Johnny fists his length at the base, giving it a whip for it to slap at your tongue. 

The wet sound is nasty, the head of his member slapping your tongue. Johnny can feel your warm breath against his dick, feeling your saliva get stuck to him as well. Whenever he lifts it he sees the string of spit from your mouth pulling him back. 

He switches motions, starting to glide his hips back and forward against your mouth. Simon's doesn't take long to join, only adding to the mess. You have your eyes closed, blinding tasting both men's scent, the musky smell leaving you lightheaded as they thrust smoothly back and forth, against each other and your tongue. 

There is drool falling for the corner of your mouth, only making it more and more nasty. And the moans, grunts and whimpers coming from the men beside you has you sliding your hand down your body, towards where you feel your body crying for attention.

Except Simon, still in his pleasure driven mind, catches the movement, calling your mind. “Love, how are you going to have the two of us dying to touch you and still private us from it?” 

The sound of his voice has you opening your eyes again, looking up at them and you can feel them twitching at the sight of such a blasphemous look. Your eyes blown wide and pitch black from arousal, a mess of spit, precum and sweat all over the middle half of your face, their wet and painfully hard members resting now over your chest, rising up and down harshly and your hand under the waistband of your pants. “I don't know…”

“Do you want us to touch you?” Johnny asks, his hand petting your head again softly and you nod timidly. “Words, bonnie.”

“Yes, please…”

“Let's take that respectable uniform off then.” Johnny jokes, patting the bed to motion you to move back up between them. You push yourself up,nestling between their bodies once again, and as if they had practised it before, they undress you at the same time they kiss you. 

Simon is the first to have his lips on your, his hand cupping your jaw drawing circles with his thumbs. You hum into his mouth, feeling Johnny lick your neck, his tongue slipping between Simon's fingers as he starts to lift your shirt. 

He moves down, sitting on his knees and kissing your tummy. His warm tongue getting a taste of your skin with each kiss. He pushes the fabric up, letting it wrinkle over your chest, groaning at the look of your sports bra. 

Simon peels from you when he feels Johnny grumble about wanting to take them off. He takes the hem from Johnny's hand, pulling it over your head and Johnny doesn't waste the opportunity to do the same to your bra, leaving you bare from waist up. 

And like a chain reaction both of them make their way to your breasts; Simon's kisses travel from behind your ear down to the swell of your breast, kissing your ribs before finally sucking your nipple into his mouth moaning at the feeling. While Johnny kisses your stomach again, burying his face on the softness of it, as he swiftly goes north, dragging his tongue from the underside to the side of your boob, before mimicking Simon and kissing your nipple. 

Is also Johnny's hand the one that starts to run down your body, if it wasn't for the filthy sounds of kisses, licks and slurping filling in the room, you could hear the sound of the callous skin of Johnny's hand rubbing against the soft skin of your body. It is only when you feel his fingertips go under the waistband that you speak. 

“Wait!” 

And as if they had been electrocuted they both peel back, looking at your face. Except instead of explaining you stand up, jumping over Johnny to walk towards the door. 

Johnny is quick on his feet, panicking that you will run; not because you couldn't go out but because they were afraid of having pushed you too far. 

Still, he stops on his track when instead you lock the door. That was still unlocked. And turn to them, looking over your shoulder almost bashful. “You are not expecting anyone else, are you?”

Simon sighs relieved, sitting on the edge of the bed, that they had not overstepped. “Nah… got everyone we need in here.” 

He motions you to walk to him, wanting you to stand between his legs and you oblige; pulling Johnny's hand when you walk past him. 

You stand between Simon's legs, Johnny standing behind you hugging your middle. Simon kisses your stomach on the parts not covered by Johnny's hand and slowly lowers your pants. You kick off your shoes at the same time, standing completely naked between them. 

Simon leans forwards, pressing his nose against your mound and sliding his tongue between your folds making you shudder. Johnny's hands travel higher, kneading your boobs in his hands while he buries his face on your neck. 

You let your head fall back on Johnny's shoulder, moaning when Simon's tongue rubs against your clit. Johnny pities Simon, pulling one of your legs up to the side, giving full access to Simon who doesn't waste a second before diving in and dragging his tongue from your entrance to your clit giving it a harsh suck making you buck your hips as you fist his hair on your hand. 

Johnny shushes in your hear, his other hand travelling to your core from behind; touching you along Simon's tongue. And while Simon's focus is on your clit, sending shockwaves up your body, Johnny slides one of his fingers onto your weeping cunt.

“Fuck yer tight…” Johnny moans into your ear. “Are you gonnae choke my dick this hard or is it only cause Simon sucking you off, hm?” 

Your only response is a moan in the shape of Simon's name, making both men chuckle. Johnny fits a second finger inside of you making you whimper as you start to move your hips from Simon's mouth to Johnny's hand and vice versa. Johnny starts to move his hand, finger getting sucked in whenever he tries to get the out; your wetness rolling down between his fingers when he scissors them inside and Simon notices, moving down to lick Johnny's hand, tongue dragging between his fingers and inside of you. 

When you look down, the only part of Simon's face you can see is his eyes, closed in blissful satisfaction at the feel and taste of your cunt on his mouth. 

Both of them feel you clench, your first orgasm of the night approaching. And it doesn't matter how happy he is to finally be together, of you forgiving them, of wanting to pay you back for saving him; Johnny is not skipping an opportunity to tease you. “Coming already, lass? Bit needy, weren't ye?”

You chuckle between moans, biting back. “Yeah… unlike you two little dickheads, shit! I-I haven't gotten laid in a minute… fuck…”

Simon chuckles against your cunt, knowing perfectly fine he deserves way worse than that and focusing on keeping you mind off of it. Johnny does just the same, curling his finger and kissing your neck helping you fall over the edge with a loud moan. 

You slide down, Johnny helping you rest on your knees between Simon legs with your head resting on his thigh. Simon pets your head, moving your hair out of your face. You open your eyes, coming face to face with his still rock hard member, and you look up to Simon, questioning. 

“Back for more already, love?” He asks, deep chuckle on his chest when you nod blushing just a bit. Johnny laughs too behind you, pulling Simon's hand slightly. 

“I have an idea. Stand up, Lt.” Johnny says, kneeling beside you and helping Simon take off his pants. “Two heads are better than one, ain't that right?” 

Simon stands before the two of you, looking down and finding both you looking up at him; getting distracted by his mouth watering length just in front of you. 

And at the sight of his two little zombies, back from the grave, the two only person that Simon has given himself the freedom to love, the only two person Simon let himself cry for after burying you, the two only person he has truly love; Simon can't contain the tear that drops from his right eye.

He tries to hide it, throwing his head back; but you see it, see the tear glisten as it drops on your cheek. But you don't say anything, and neither does Johnny when he wipes it with his thumb. 

You lean forward, leaving open mouth kisses at the base of his shaft while you feel Johnny suck on his tip. It makes Simon groan, the angle of his neck making it sound raspier. 

You move towards the tip, feeling Johnny's hand rest on your nape. When you are face to face with him, you feel his tongue move under Simon's dick, looking for your mouth. Pushing towards the tip to be able to finally kiss you, the open mouth kiss revolving in kissing Simon’s tip almost like it was a third tongue involved. And although it almost feels like excluding Simon, the sight of his two lovers kissing around his cock has him moving his hips against your lips; smearing the spit over both of your cheeks again. 

Johnny pulls back, making you whine against Simon's dick. “Open wide, love.” Johnny tells you, moving behind you and cupping your face from behind. 

Johnny holds your head as Simon lets his dick easily slide over your tongue, and when you close your lips around his length Johnny pushes his thumbs on your cheeks, making Simon feel the pressure on his length. He groans, feeling your throat open around his length to accommodate him as he moves deeper inside of your mouth.

“Easy now, you both.” Simon mumbles when he sees your eyes water as he moves down your throat. Johnny chuckles letting go of your head as he moves, switching to stand behind Simon.

Simon follows him with his gaze, aware already of his plan and the scot has the nerve to wink at him before diving between his cheeks. He rests a hand on the back of yours and Johnny's head, moaning at the double stimulation. 

Johnny is ravenous on the way he eats him out, fingertips digging on the meat of his asscheeks spreading them, his unquenchable thirst for making Simon moan driving him to push his tongue deeper.

While you on the other side keep pushing forward, your nose closer and closer to his pubic bone, your soft hands massaging his heavy balls screaming for release as you keep sucking him in making him whimper.

There is a point, when Johnny's tongue is so deep and your nose is squished against his happy trail, your tongue sticking to lick at his balls, that Simon feels his knees buckle. 

“Wait, wait, darling.” He whimpers, pulling your head back with a hand on your cheek pushing back softly. “You too, mutt!” He says, grabbing Johnny's mohawk to pull him back without actual strength. “I want to switch… Lay down on the bed for me, love. On your back, raise your legs.” He says, petting your head and you nod as you start to move, stealing a kiss from Johnny's mouth as your crawl passes him. 

You lay just like he told you, propping on your elbows to caress his face when he kneels before you. You smile. “In need of some more, pussy boy?” You ask, overconfident in yourself; quickly falling back when Simon runs his hot tongue from your ass to your clit, flat, splitting your lips and making you moan. 

Simon chuckles, before turning his head back to look at Johnny over his shoulder, using his hand to spread his cheeks. “It ain't gonna prep itself, Johnny.”

“Fuckin’ hell…” Johnny says chuckling, slapping Simon's ass before standing up and going to his bag. Both Simon and you look at him, wondering what his intentions are and you smile when you see him pick the lube bottle from his back. 

Simon rolls his eyes when Johnny shakes the bottle at him, teasingly. Johnny kneels behind him, slapping his ass again but keeps his hand on the taut meat to pull it apart. He moves down, kissing down his back to his already spit covered hole. 

Simon sighs at the feeling, leaning on your touch when you pet his head, kissing your wrist before diving back into your folds. Sliding his tongue in circles around your clit, softly sucking it into his mouth.

It is quite the sight to have Simon on his hands and knees in front of you, eating you out and drinking your juices up like a puppy while you see Johnny's head peek over the curve on his ass.

You keep your hand on Simon's head, brushing his hair back as he hums against your cunt. Ah… Johnny's tongue… you are familiar with the feeling. 

So you don't blame him when he stills on his movements, tongue falling out of his mouth without care as he moans at Johnny's tactics. Instead, you plant your feet on the edge of the bed, using your hand to grab Simon's hair and slowly start to grind against his face. 

You see his eyes widen for a second when he looks up at you, not expecting being downgraded to a ribbed mat to grind against. Not that he cared too much, not with the moans falling so prettily from your mouth and not with the way you so desperately cling to his hair.

He's embarrassed of himself, of the weak excuse of head he's giving you. He should be lapping up your weeping cunt like a parched dog at its bowl, and instead he is just slobbering all over your pretty folds, barely able to suck at your clit. 

But he can't focus any better, not when Johnny's tongue is curling inside of him in a way that has him wanting to push himself back onto his mouth, eyes threatening to roll back in his skull. He tried his utmost effort not to whine when he feels Johnny retrieving his tongue, moving back to his knees.

Johnny pops the bottle open, splattering a generous glob of lube between Simon's cheeks, making him grunt at the coldness. Johnny chuckles at him, his fingertip teasing at his entrance, pushing the lube in and he leans on Simon's shoulder. “Aww, bit too chilly for ye, Si?”

“Get at it already.” Simon grunts as an answer when you pull his head back, the tip of his ears red with embarrassment and lust. Johnny lands his free hand on the back of his head, pushing his face back against your cunt. 

“You get at it, eejit. Got bonnie bored out of her mind, making her do all the work.” He teases Simon. You slap his hand, scolding him; not wanting Simon to feel bad. But Simon notices the way your ankles are shaking from holding yourself up grinding against him, and he moves his hands from the ground to around your hips, pushing you against his face. 

He is resting on his elbows, holding your cunt at level with his mouth as he dives him right between glistering folds. Shaking his head in, his nose smushed against your clit, bending with each shake making your legs buckle; he slides his tongue in, curling it and feeling every rib of your walls drowning down on your taste. 

Johnny smiles when your moans rise in volume, your head falling back, he lets go of Simon's head while petting his head like a dog. “Atta boy.” He rests his hand on Simon's shoulder, leaning to kiss his back as he slides a finger in. 

Simon's eyes flutter closed, feeling his ass suck Johnny's finger in. He moans against your core, not relenting on his assault and soon enough Johnny is sliding a second finger. The stretch making him arch his back; and Johnny starts to pick up the pace, smiling when he notices Simon roll his hips to meet his fingers. 

“Look at you, Simon… getting all loose and soft for us… you can’t wait to get fucked stupid, can you?” Johnny smiles, kissing Simon's shoulder.

But Simon is struggling, he desperately wants to get you off before doing so himself. He really is trying his best, but when he tries to keep himself from coming he clenches around Johnny's fingers only making it worse. 

He can feel you are close, sucking his tongue in when you grip him, just a couple seconds more, he knows it. And then Johnny curls his fingers sneakily and Simon is coming all over the ground, moaning loudly against your awaiting cunt, unable to move and ruining your orgasm making you want to cry. 

He feels bad, he feels really bad for doing you dirty like that. Johnny only laughs softly, just for him to start moving his fingers at light speed making Simon whine as he crawls towards you, away from Johnny who only follows him. 

Simon hides his face in your stomach, moaning loudly at Johnny's attack, his fingernails digging into your thigh at the overstimulation. You whine Johnny's name, your cunt still spasming with the ruined release and Johnny finally pulls his hand back, slapping Simon’s ass.

“Move to the bed, Lt. You so fucking massive I can't even reach our girl.” Johnny says, teasing him even further as he moves to lay on his back on the mattress. Johnny stands up to finally take off his clothes, moving to kneel between his legs, grasping Simon's softening dick on his hand making it slap against his abdomen. “Look at you, Lt… I thought you promised our girl a nice fuck, what are you going to do with this?”

“Shut the fuck up, Johnny.” Simon says, moving his hand to caress your leg from where you are sitting next to him. “Just need a minute…” he mumbles. 

Johnny spreads his legs, collecting the lube sliding down Simon's crack with the bulbous tip of his length before probing at his entrance. “In the meantime… Fuck, Si… C’mon, pretty boy… Open wide for me.”.

He starts to push forward, pushing Simon's legs as well against his chest, bending him in half. It knocks the air out of him, making throw his head back with the mouth open on a silent scream of pleasure. 

He feels filled to the brim, and he hisses when Johnny starts to move his hand up and down his shaft. And although it is borderline painful, he can help the moans that fall from his lips when Johnny rolls his hips against his. 

“Singing like a pretty bird, you are, Si…” Johnny comments, looking at you and seeing how you discreetly try to slide your hand between your legs, desperate for the release. Their poor girl, their poor sweet girl. Her two lovers right beside her and still feeling neglected of the attention she so badly deserves; too sweet to even ask for it. “Ride his face, darling. Don't mind if he can't breathe, that's what he gets for leaving you hanging.”

At the sound of his voice you instinctively close your legs, moving when you see him move his head to point to Simon's head; only to be met by his heart shaped pupils with his hand extended to you calling you in. 

You move, sliding your legs over his head as you hoist yourself over him and look between your legs, seeing Simon laying with his mouth wide open, tongue resting over his lower lip waiting for you to sit down on him. When you take too long to do so, Simon grabs your hips, offended by the distance, pulling you down against his face, making you rest your hands on his chest. 

He doesn't care to breathe, and if this is the way he dies? Well, he can't think of a more glorious way to go out. 

Johnny snaps his hips, making Simon move and therefore grind his face against your cunt. And the harmonious moans sound to him just like a starting shot. He starts to roll his hips, picking up the pace and making the thrusts hard enough to make Simon bounce at them. 

The moment Simon mouth is back on focusing on your core, you feel your orgasm turn around embarrassingly quick, moans and whines slipping past your lips in abundance. Grinding your hips once again against Simon's face who's moaning back just as much. Your body easily forgetting the offence of having gotten your release pulled away so harshly.

Johnny leans forward kissing you feverishly, making you cling to his shoulders as you moan in his mouth. He feels guilty too, it was his doing what made Simon unable to function, even if it makes him proud how easily he can get the man undone. So to silence his guilt, he lowers his hand, dragging it down on your body, until he reaches your clit; rubbing tight circles making you wail into his mouth. 

“Fuck… Fuck, I'm gonna… Shit!” You close your eyes, letting your face fall into his neck, your legs shaking around Simon's head against his tight hold of your thighs with anticipation and you finally feel the coil in your inside snap. And out of everytime that Simon has been waterboarded this is definitely his favourite, drinking up every drop you are willing to give him. 

You gasp for hair, your body shaking with the aftershock of your orgasm and Johnny moves his hand to your waist, keeping you up. “Good girl, what a fucking good girl you are, love. We are so fucking lucky to have you.” He slows down on his pace, helping you lay on Simon's body and letting Simon's legs rest around his hips so you can rest your head; your legs still over his neck, not that he minds it; leaving kisses on the back of your thigh wetting your skin with the moistness of his face.

Johnny pets your head resting on Simon's abdomen, stilling on his movements to wait for your answer. A shiver runs down your body as you mutter “fuck”, making both chuckle and you look up to Johnny.

“You broken, baby?” He asks, smiling. 

“Not yet, Johnny.” You answer, wrapping your hand around Simon's still soft dick to lazily lick his tip; pulling back the skin to slide your tongue over his slit to taste his salty seed that ended up wasted on the floor. Johnny looks up to Simon, seeing how he tightly closes his eyes, throwing his head back with a deep groan.

It's the mix of Johnny's ridiculously thick cock rubbing against his prostate on each thrust and your warm mouth engulfing him in that makes him start to chub up at a record speed of refractory period. 

You feel it in your mouth, how each bob of your head has your jaw stinging more and more. You look up to Johnny, staring at you in awe at the way you swallow the massive dick of Simon, timing his thrust with your movements. “Yer a fucking eye candy, love.” He says, caressing your cheek. “I can't fucking wait to see yer pretty face every morning.”

He moves his hand to the back of your head, keeping it in place when you have Simon's dick stuffing your throat and he rolls his hips deeper, as deep as he can; leaning his body forward just to feel your forehead rest over his pubic bone. 

He pulls back, letting you move back as you pull Simon's cock out of your throat letting it fall on Simon's abdomen with a wet thud, his length finally on his full size again, spit connecting it to your lips as you breathe harshly. Simon groans, the air of the room cold in comparison with your warm mouth.

Johnny picks you up, making you sit over Simon's dick with your back pressed against his chest. “Are you gonna ride his dick like a good girl, love? Hm? Gonna help me fuck him silly?” He asks, making you nod as you whine at his words. 

You move a hand down, wrapping it around Simon's base and sitting down on it. The wetness of his length and the arousal still dripping from your cunt the only relief of the stretch of his dick. 

You sit down smoothly, moaning incoherent words as you use your hand to rest on Simon's chest. And for Simon it is too much, never has he felt this full and wrapped so tight on his life. The only reason why he hasn't cum already being his dick being barely back to life.

He looks up, at how Johnny is hugging you from behind, hiding his face on your neck and whispering praises while he keeps thrusting forwards. At how you have your head resting on Johnny's shoulder, the prettiest noises falling from your mouth as you slide up and down his length. 

His two lovers, finally with him, and as close as he can. He wants to cry again, except this time is also for the overstimulation. He whines, weakly moving his hips to meet both Johnny's and your movement. 

But he can't, his balls stuck between you and Johnny clenching with the need of release. He can hold it much longer but he needs to hold it, for you, for Johnny. 

Johnny was right when back in th car he told him he was going to break the moment you joined the picture, how the two of you were going to fuck him stupid. Fucking Johnny. 

But Simon is not the only one affected, he sees how Johnny's eyebrows furrow, trying his best to keep himself from coming undone, holding himself back so nicely like the good boy he is. So Simon can't let him updo him, resting his hands on your hips; moving his thumb lower to circle your clit. 

Johnny's hands move lower, interlocking his fingers with Simon's on your hips; using you to push Simon back against his hips. 

And like a chain reaction, when you finally fall over the edge with a silent scream as little white dots fill your vision, Simon spurs thick ropes of his seed deep into your cunt when he feels you clench. Leaving Johnny freedom to snap his hips fast against him looking for his release, moaning beautifully when he also spills deep inside of Simon. 

You lay over Simon's chest, Johnny laying next to Simon and pulling you in the middle, kissing your shoulder. The warmth from both bodies surrounding you making you feel the safest you have ever been.

It’s a comfortable silence, basking on the afterglow of an amazing session that has left the three of you unable to move right. Three pairs of legs tangled together, Johnny's arm over your body keeping you close to Simon and him. The silence only breaks when you speak. 

“Does this mean we are dating now?” The question making the both of them chuckle.

“We haven't gone on a date.” Simon points out.

“Do you want to go on a date?” Johnny asks behind you. 

“Yeah! I would love to.” You say smiling widely.

And after learning all his life how to hate, Simon finally had reasons to teach himself how to love. Because all this new range of emotions, of wants, of needs, of reasons to smile, to wake up in the morning; the origin of it all are lying right next to him, talking about where they want to go on said date. 

Simon Riley was a man that died years ago, the soldier nicknamed as Ghost pulling his corspe out of his grave. And after so many years of killing, torturing and ignoring every human emotion from his cold heart; he is finally starting to see himself in the mirror. 

The three of them having their own strange death, still coming back with more of their pieces intact, and getting drawn together like a magnet. Maybe it was just normal, no one can understand what is like to die as good as somebody who has done it too, maybe it was destiny way to apologise to almost actually killing them; or maybe it was simply and normal attraction that started the moment every one of them met the rest, and the three were too prideful, too coward or too insecure to actually recognise the feelings as such. 

And maybe, in the future, when Johnny’s memory is complete again; he will admit to them how he started to have slim flashbacks of them before the accident. Glimpses of their faces, of nicknames, of kisses on the cheeks, of sighs leaving his mouth when watching them. But for now, he will keep them to himself, and rather that reminiscent on those past memories; he will build new ones, as his, and not as the man he was before the accident. 

Many things could have gone differently if the tunnel had fallen on him, and luckily it didn't; because after all, well, he wasn't on that tunnel.

That's all, people.

Hope you enjoyed the "mini" serie, mini because in 5 chapters I wrote almost 25k words. But I hope you enjoyed every one of them just as much as I did. 🩷

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[kneelingshadowsalome]

Salome!

"La Belle Dame sans Mercy" ("The Beautiful Lady Without Mercy") - A ballad by John Keats

"The poem is about a fairy who condemns a knight to an unpleasant fate after she seduces him with her eyes and singing." please

This screams Knight!König x Fairy!Reader to me.

I just know König would gladly die by the hand of such an ethereal being.

"She looked at me as she did love, and made a sweet moan."

"And sure in language strange she said—'I love thee true.'"

That’s it. Thank you.

I swear this artwork kills me everytime I see it....

Ok this became the silliest fairytale ever 🩷✨️

CW: Historical AU blending with mythical/supernatural AU. König being a dreamy mess of a knight who doesn't fit in "normal" society. Reader is part of faefolk. Heavy Arthurian Romance vibes.

König returns to the castle one day. The son of a great liege lord, a warrior through and through, but some people say he should’ve been a poet: so dreamily he looks beyond the battlements at times, sighs after drinking too much wine, stares off into dark corners of the room while tending to his sword and armour as if he can see little pixies dancing there.

His siblings sometimes hit him on the back of his head, or wave a hand over his eyes when he’s about to slip into the fairy world, a forgotten plane that is not supposed to reach the castle. But the castle stones were taken from the moors and the woods, the old land not bending to the priest’s will no matter how many crosses they brought here. Fragile souls are wanton prey for the elves and the fairies who would take them to their land the moment they drop down their guard, and only prayer and fasting hold them at bay. In the fairylands, there is no toil or sorrow; the food is golden honey and wine, the dance and love everlasting, and the fae girls more beautiful than any human maid.

It sounded too good to be true, and it was: God had created men to work and women to give birth, and all the land was theirs to use and cultivate, it was not made to simply run and frolic upon. Some say that these were just old tales and that Christ would banish these creatures away, turn the land to yielding crops and tame firewood.

But some still believed.

When he was a child, the mighty son of the feared lord took porridge and almonds to the woods. “For the fairy people,” he said with bright, trusting eyes. Stole food from under the mistress’s nose, and no one ever dared to say anything about it.

But when this nonsense carried on to adulthood, people had to intervene. There was work to be done, war, harvest and building, and no matter how many coins this man paid to the visiting bards, it would never turn their stories true.

His arm was strong and his strike was true, but his head seemed to be filled with dandelion wine, even when he hadn’t been drinking. Sighed after this maiden or that, wished to travel to foreign lands, courted every nobleman’s daughter who visited the castle, but no one ever took him seriously.

This man had to watch how lady after lady chose some other valiant knight as their husband, some men whose heads were not filled with fairytales and dreams. They did flirt with him, for who could’ve resisted the temptation of making this giant a little sweaty under all that armor? Armor that demanded plate for two people, and a smith who had the talent to forge such a beastly thing.

Nevertheless, he was always left without a warm embrace, and so he was usually found outside, looking at the full moon or spending time in taverns, choosing the company of thieves and rascals over his serious kin.

And now he has returned from the woods, having been gone for months.

People thought he had finally left to fight for some other lord, posing as a simple footsoldier, a disguise that would relieve him of his tedious duties as a knight. Or to court some “lovely peasant girl” he always talked about – such talks were usually crushed by his father, demanding him to be sensible for once in his life.

But he doesn’t prattle about peasant girls now, nor does he ramble about screaming ships at the bottom of the sea. He doesn’t hold a speech about forgotten stone circles in the forest, the ones that already grow moss. No, he has finally lost it completely.

His eyes are wild, as is his hair; his armour is nowhere to be seen, and his sword is without its sheath. He doesn’t talk about what he saw in that forest to anyone, nor is he willing to tell where he has even been these past few moons.

He seems very shaken when he’s told they were worried he wouldn’t make it to the May Day feast, and asks for how long he was gone, drives a hand through dishevelled hair when he hears that he was away for three full months.

“Three months…” he mutters to himself, then leaves to his room, the huge sword dragging against the stone floor as he goes. He has always, always made sure it wouldn’t dull, but now he’s treating it like it’s become a part of him, confused and lost.

He doesn’t eat, hardly speaks after that.

The food tastes like ash, he says, and the ale tastes like bile. But the following evening, when his mother orders someone to pour her poor son some more wine, he looks up helplessly like a child.

“I have to go back,” he says.

A clamour arises, huffed exclaims of “What on earth is he on about” and “Sir, you only just got back!” His father rises from his chair and orders him to stop this nonsense at once. But this time, there is no embarrassed sweep of hand through hair, no red colour that rises on this peculiar knight’s cheeks. His lips only make a thin line before he rises as well and leaves the hall with a weight on his shoulders and dark determination in his stare.

At the stables, a stout Moorland pony and poor stable boy get to witness the drunken bawls of a forlorn knight. The wine sack almost slips from his hands to the dirt as he slumps against the timber of the stall, distorted face coming to rest against a wide, shaky palm.

Luckily, a friend of his knows where to look, and the stable boy sneaks into the shadows, slightly scared of the sorrow of such a big, intimidating man.

But even the companion who always listened to every enthusiastic story since they were kids and ran across the moors, throwing little rocks at his father’s soldiers and laughing when their helmets made a funny clinky sound, can not understand the drunken babble that comes out of König’s mouth this time.

He starts from the middle, which is highly unusual, and talks in strings of sentences that don’t make sense. “She was real, I just know it,” he repeats, over and over again in the middle of confessions about how beautiful she was, how her hair was like the softest spun yarn, her body incredible, naked and wild when she came to him. That her laugh was like the chime of little bells or the sound of the loveliest harp, a song on its own when she walked to him.

She was fascinated with his sword, especially the pommel and the handle interested her, and the curve in the middle of the blade she brushed with her fingers as if it was an entire vale.

He had never seen a woman touch his sword like that… They were never interested in such things, but she was, and she asked him so many questions.

Had he ever felled a tree?

Did he like squirrels?

Were his thighs as hairy as his chest?

She took him down the river, or he followed her; he can’t remember. Her step was so light it didn’t make a sound, and the moss seemed to turn brighter every time her little foot stepped on it. Her hands were tiny too when she wrapped them around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him until there was nothing left of him: no helmet, no sword, nothing but sun and her, her hands and her lips.

Her mouth was still on his when she whispered she didn’t like his armour because it was so hard and rigid and cold, oh, she wondered if there was a man inside there at all.

So of course he showed her.

She giggled at the sight of him, especially his thighs, knelt down on the moss to see how hairy they were.

And would you believe the way she touched him then? It makes him heady even now…

Yes, he took her. But not the way a man takes a woman. She came to straddle him and laughed again, and the things they did together… He can’t even speak about them, but he knows the sun always shined when they rolled on the grass. Her giggles and moans surrounded him, her soft little thighs were stronger than they looked, her breasts so round and soft, so perfect he swore he had gone to heaven.

He bathed in her, with her, all day long. And the nights… You wouldn’t believe the nights: there was song and dance and more giggling women, and also a man dressed all in leaves, so big and thick he first thought he was a tree. An old king, she said, nothing he should worry about. And the wine tasted like summer and honey and gold; it was red, perhaps, but also like sea amber and sun…

She fed him flowers and laughed, caressed his face and said he’s the biggest and hairiest human she had ever seen. She let him lick honey from her fingertips and caressed him with heather and ivy, opened her mouth before feeding him a soft, sweet piece of cake, showing him how he needed to open his mouth as well if he wanted it on his tongue.

She kissed the crumbs from his lips and trailed a finger down his chest, all the way down, until…

Oh, he can’t talk about it.

It was better than he ever even imagined: better than the stories they tell in the taverns. It was like his wedding night, over and over again, it was like he was Lancelot, and she was his Guinevere.

No, no, she was not an enchantress, although everything about her was enchanting... All the stories came alive with her, even the moon was bigger than anywhere he’d ever seen, the deers ran past them while they made love, and the birds sang even at night.

He told her he loved her, but she didn’t know what it meant. When he explained it to her, she looked at him gently, so gently…

He cried from joy then, but she never mocked him. She only said it’s a sign that he’s hers. That he will never forget her. She said he’ll always find her, even when he’s old: she will make him young again. He’s welcome here if he wants: she has so many places to show him.

He thanked all the saints for having found her, Saint George and Saint Mary first, but stopped when her little brows furrowed with sorrow. Her eyes, filled with starlight and love, turned so sad that his heart couldn’t bear it, not for one beat.

The sea is far wilder here: he should come and see the ocean as it was at the dawn of time. The ivy is so strong you can use it to climb the trees and see the whole world from atop the tree, the whole land, covered in forest, such as it was before humans came. There’s no smoke or fire or war: just green everywhere, wild rippling streams and honey bees and berries and fish for everyone who ever feels hungry... They can make love day and night, and she’ll teach him all the songs of old. Humans only remember bits and pieces, but she knows how things really happened, she can tell him everything about heroes, kings and queens.

She said she wanted to sleep, and so he took her from the feast and laid her on the grass… She might’ve sung to him, he can’t remember, but it was like an angel’s caress all over him, somber and sweet before the dreams took him, a dream within a dream.

He slept for ages, it seemed, saw so many dreams, each more beautiful than the last until he woke up and saw that the forest had turned grey.

There was no maiden in his lap, no dance and song in the distance, no scent of flowers and dreams and springs to be found. The sun was up in the sky, but it didn’t paint all the colours with gold or fill the streams with light. The forest was half dead to him, just old, thick trees around him, a green-grey forest floor and a shaggy squirrel who chirped and squeaked at him as if it was his fault that the fae folk were gone.

He searched for her, called for her, but she didn’t answer, and how could she have? He didn’t even know her name. He only knew how lovely she felt, how soft her hair was when it fell to cover him like a veil, how adorable her sighs and tiny little gasps were when he filled her, over and over again.

His armour was nowhere to be found, and his sword was somewhere downstream, half covered with leaves and dirt, rusty and beaten by the wind. It was early spring when he came here; the land was still barren and grey, but now, everything was green. Still, it was not the green he wanted. It was not the green that filled his vision entirely, bright, blooming green that pulsed with lush joy. It was just… earth and grass and dirt.

So you see, he has to go back. He has to find her, whatever it takes. She promised he could always come back… She promised…

He cries once more, head bowed and mighty shoulders trembling from the force of his sorrow, and it is no use to tell him that the fae folk are evil. That they’re from the Devil and only want to make good, decent men like them forget. Forget their duty, their laws, their Christ.

It’s no use to tell him that it is not natural, the place he has seen. No doubt he has been somewhere, but it cannot be anything good… No man can survive on flowers and spring water for three months; they cannot frolic with the faeries for days on end without losing their mind and soul.

And König is already lost; he was lost since he was a child, rambling about how he received flowers, sticks and stones as tokens of the faefolk’s gratitude because he brought them food.

He tries to tell the boy who never grew up, the mightiest man in this kingdom, the dreamiest knight there ever was, that he needs to return to the real world. No fae woman would have him as a husband, they are only after his soul. But surely some human lady would take him into her bed, think about it, for God’s sake, please... He has duties here, people who love him, his father would make him a lord if he only put himself together. What kind of knight would abandon his sword, helmet and armour for the sake of an elf who despises the saints...?

But in the morn, König is gone.

His rusty sword is on the floor, the wooden cross taken off the wall. There lies a honeycomb and a flower on his window, a blossom so sweet it cannot be plucked from any field around here. Too exotic and bright, especially when placed atop the rough, grey stones, it looks like it could never wither from how beautifully it blooms.

The peasants now tell a tale of a man that haunts the woods: a huge giant dressed all in green, donning a leaf cloak of some sort and a beard that grows ivy. But they say he is not evil: he only shows himself to hunters who are about to fall a deer, or children who remember the land with little gifts.

Old men say they saw a green man when they were kids and brought bread and milk to the faeries, they swear to this day they saw a man who greeted them with a smile. And when they looked again, there was nothing but a tree where this giant stook, a young oak, sighing with the wind...

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Bad Weather LADS Drabbles

Word count; 837

Warnings; fluff, reader is scared of bad weather

Notes; hey guys! I thought I'd just post something small and I've never tried my hand at drabbles before, so I hope they're actually decent enough. I'm also not sure how long they're supposed to be or if this is classified as a scenario instead? Either way, I felt bad for not writing anything new in my one-shots this week, so I hope a random little drabble will suffice!

Either way, I was just a bit inspired since I have a tad bit of bad weather coming my way (mostly just thunderstorms and high winds, a storm surge from the hurricane but it's not going to come anywhere close), and I was inspired to write since I don't particularly like bad weather. Big things in the sky scare me, to be honest.

Anyway, yall be safe out there if there's any bad weather near yall and I hope you have a good day/night!! 🩷

Sylus

“Hmm?” Sylus would wake up in the middle of the night with you in his arms, trembling from the sound of rain harshly hitting the windows. Wind whistling and whipping while your head was buried in his chest. 

“Kitten?” He would chuckle. “You're a mighty and proud Hunter, but this is what scares you?” 

A flash of light illuminates the room and your nails bite into the skin of his shoulder. 

Sylus would count out-loud how long it took for the lightning to follow behind the thunder. The low timber of his voice helps you calm down with your ear against his chest. 

His arms would tighten around you every time you jump from fear. 

“Calm down now, sweetie. Do you want me to have Mephisto fly out there and check the damage? Or should I have Luke and Kieran go out there and stop the storm?” 

A small caw is echoed through the room– a sign that Mephisto clearly did not want to go outside. 

You would laugh and shake your head. The thought of the twins trying to physically fight the storm, and Mephisto being blown around in the high winds, calms you down to where you can finally fall back asleep. 

Rafayel

“Hey…the studio isn't going to flood or anything right?” You would be worried, having heard on the news that Linkon would be hit with the storm surge coming off a hurricane. The hurricane wouldn't hit Linkon, however you were more worried about tsunamis– especially when you were at Rafayel's studio on Whitesand Bay. 

“It better not.” Rafayel would grumble as he tried to quickly put away any paintings he really cared about. “But if it does, you'll be safe by my side.” 

“That's…very reassuring..” you would say, not feeling very reassured because what could Rafayel do? He couldn't very well tell the raging waters to just stop…or could he?

As you excitedly turn around to ask Rafayel this, he puts his hand up in front of him. “I know what you're going to ask and my answer is no.” 

“Aw..” You would sigh before you'd nervously look out the window, keeping a close eye on the distant tide and the clouds in the sky. 

“Cutie..–” Rafayel tugs on your arm to pull you away from the window. “Seriously, don't look outside. You'll just stress yourself out, Miss Hunter.” 

He mischievously smiles, “Come on, let's go paint something together to pass the time or…I could distract you.”

Xavier 

“Xavier, does that cloud look weird to you or is it just me?” You would squint up at the sky, staring at the large bundle of clouds. “Mm…it's called a wall cloud.” Xavier would say from your couch, fingers tapping against his phone. 

“It usually means thunderstorms are on the way, and it can cause tornadoes.” The silvery-blonde haired man would shrug as if this wasn't a big deal, but it was. A big deal, that is. 

“Xavier, this is seriou–” 

A sharp noise would slip from your lips when a loud boom shakes the whole apartment and the lights go out shortly after. 

“Xav..” You would dart back inside from your place on the balcony and quickly shut the doors, trying to search for him in the dark. 

“Right here, starlight.” 

You would notice a tiny speck of light before a dozen others lit up the room. It almost felt romantic, if it wasn't for the rain pelting the windows and the distant sound of thunder. 

“Come here, we can hide out from the storm together in our own little world.” 

Zayne

“We gonna die–” you would blurt out the moment you began to hear sirens. Bundled up in a blanket on Zayne's living room floor, eyes locked in on the weather report coming from the TV. 

“I– Snow angel…” Zayne can't help but laugh as he returns to the living room with two mugs in hand. “Be careful, it's hot.” He would say as he sets your mug on the table in front of you. 

“Are you not worried at all!?” Your gaze would turn to him in a panic and Zayne would sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. 

“If we die, I'll die with the person I love. That doesn't sound too bad, all things considered.” He admits. 

“You…What–” 

“I think we'll be just fine, angel. You fight wanderers daily, so I didn't expect you'd be this scared of bad weather.” Zayne leans forward and rests one arm over his propped up knee. 

“You know, even though I've known you since we were children, I'm still constantly learning new things about you…” A smile tugs at his lips as he reminisces on the past for a moment. “I hope we survive this ordeal so I can continue to learn more about you in the future.” 

“Zayne, you're not helping!” You would hit his shoulder and try to cover up your reddening face. But you do appreciate the way he was trying to get your mind off of the weather outside. 

[physics-of-one-piece]

Sugary Secret

(Doflamingo x Reader)

Summary: The king of Dressrosa shares a midnight snack with you. Don't tell anyone. It's his little sugary secret.

Words: 1k

Tags: Doflamingo x afab!Reader, Reader & Doflamingo Are Married, Cuddling, Fluff, Size Difference, SFW, One Shot

A/N: I am sleep deprived, much like Doffy here. (Hugs him) It's okay, Doffy, let's cuddle, we can fall asleep easier like that. I wrote this ages ago cus I wanted a cuddle with Doffy in Dressrosa. Short and not detailed enough with descriptions for my liking, but I'm not that good quite yet with describing the SIZE of this man. Ugh, I love him. Would cuddle, cuddles would be 100000/10 with him. Wish I could make this Hammock NSFW Fic but hooo boy that intimidates me so it's SFW. Also, huh, my first actual fic(that I publish on tumblr)! Of course it would be Doffy. 🩷

You got woken up by some sort of sound of...

A bag?

It sounded like a bag. You realised the usual ten foot giant wasn't all wrapped around you, hugging you possessively. You blinked at the lack of him. The bed felt very big and very empty without him.

Then, you heard it. Crunching.

You perked up, shooting up in the bed. You knew that sound.

Cookies.

You floundered around for the switch of the bedside lamp. Once you found it, the illuminating orange light cast a small light around the large suite of the bedroom.

And there was the king of Dressrosa, satten on a circular coffee table, a lid full of cookies held in his left hand while his right hand grabbed the pile of cookies.

Upon the light hitting his handsome face, bare of his sunglasses, the king of Dressrosa froze like a cat caught catching a rat, pink eyes widening slightly.

You looked at Doflamingo. Doflamingo looked at you. 

Silence.

Staring at you, he tossed another cookie into his large mouth, the crunch as he chewed on it filling the large bedroom.

You blinked, more bewildered than anything. It was still night out, but it must be very very early morning.

You wondered if he'd had a nightmare. Usually, you were able to keep them at bay with your presence, running your fingers through his hair and soothing him in his sleep until the nightmare ebbed away, chased away by your loving touch, but sometimes that didn't work.

“Before you say anything,” said Doflamingo, his deep voice covering you with a weight similar to his feather coat. “I am the king. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. If I want to eat cookies at 3 am…” The blond pulled the box closer to his stomach protectively. “I will eat cookies at 3 am.”

When you continued staring, Doflamingo added, “Don't tell Monet.”

Poor Monet has given Doflamingo trauma or something of the like because she always kept him on schedule. He could never escape his royal duties with Monet around. He'd tried, much like you did. You both got dragged back to the palace within thirty minutes, feeling properly ashamed from the cold, chilly gaze Monet gave you.

“I am the king, and I am hungry, so what if I'm eating cookies?” continued Doflamingo. “I deserve cookies. I work hard all day.”

“And I deserve to eat cookies.  I’m a Celestial Dragon, nobody can tell me what to do.” said Doflamingo. Was it you, or was he eating the cookies faster, as though afraid you would start scolding him any moment, stop him from indulging in the sweets? “Even if you're my wife, I won't listen to you. I won't abandon the cookies, and if you got a problem, then -”

“Can I have some?” you asked, breaking off Doflamingo's monologue.

He stopped. “Huh?” he asked, tilting his head, confused.

You couldn't help it anymore. You smiled, beaming at your husband while his thin, blond eyebrows furrowed in further confusion.

That was it. He looked so adorable when he was confused. You giggled.

“Cookies,” you said, smiling, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. “Can I have some?”

Doflamingo dropped the cookie in his shock. His pink eyes stared at you for a moment, completely surprised.

Then, a huge, big, excited smile engulfed his face, stretching from ear to ear.

Without replying, Doflamingo hopped down from the table, carrying the box of cookies, and approached your side of the bed. Within a second, he lifted you into his arm, cradling you to his chest. 

He chuckled at your squeal, the sound drumming against his bare chest.

With a twitch of fingers, he opened the doors of the balcony, and walked outside, into the night, carrying you and the cookie box. He sat himself down on the large hammock, placing you on his thigh.

The night in Dressrosa was fresh and warm, the entire country swathed in darkness, streets lit by the moonlight above. The stars glittered in the night sky. You stared up in awe at them until Doflamingo’s long digits cradled your jaw, demanding your attention. When you turned to him, he offered you a cookie. It looked incredibly small between his tanned, large fingers, like a blueberry.

The cookie was circular and thick, dusted with melted sugar. You ate it, chewing on it. It melted in your mouth.

You moaned happily. The cookie was delicious! The body was chewy and soft, like a muffin.

Doflamingo chuckled, the stars twinkling in his pink eyes. “They’re polvorones, a Dressrosan dessert.”

“Delicious,” you murmured, mouth watering, smiling.

Doflamingo hummed in agreement. He slid his large body down to lie down, lounging on the hammock, curling his long arm around you, pulling your head onto his shoulder, sliding your body onto his torso, where you laid atop his chest.

You took another polvorone from the bowl and offered it to him. Doflamingo outright grinned, a lewd smile on his face.

He laughed softly, the deep sound of it resounding across the balcony, across your very body.

He opened his mouth and ate the offered treat, moaning with each chew shamelessly, half-lidded eyes staring straight at you, his hands wrapped around your waist, thumbs caressing your hips.

You lost sensation in your palm.

“Delicious,” said Doflamingo after he swallowed, repeating your words back at you, the fierce gaze of his pink eyes melting your heart. “Melts right in my mouth.”

The long, tanned digits dragged up your spine. The king smirked, white teeth flashing. He tilted your chin up with his thumb, drawing your face up to his, making you look straight into his breathtaking eyes.

“Just like you,” he crooned with a smile of the half-crescent moon in the starry night sky.

Your beetroot face made your husband laugh again, the sound filling the night of Dressrosa.

In the morning, Monet, after not finding you or Doflamingo in the throne room, and after neither of you appeared at the breakfast table with the rest of the family, went looking for the two of you. Imagine her surprise when she found the royal bedroom to be empty. She was about to pull the alarm - Doflamingo must have swept you away to the sky again and you two were probably somewhere in the streets of Dressrosa or a restaurant, or worse, on another island - but then she went to check the balcony.

You and Doflamingo were sleeping in the hammock, Doflamingo’s long arm wrapped around your waist possessively, curled around you like a rope. His other arm covered your entire spine, his palm larger than your head cradling the back of your skull, his long fingers relaxed in your hair. You laid atop his torso, your head buried in his neck, the tips of your toes resting on his thighs. In your sleep, your hands were wrapped around his neck, your fingers buried in his short, soft blond hair. Both of you looked peaceful.

There were cookie crumbs on you both, an empty tray with remnants of polvorones on the table beside the hammock.

Monet let you and Doflamingo sleep, and called Diamante to let him know everything was all right.

You were safe, snuggled in the warmth of your husband, sleeping in the arms of your king.

Taglist: @fanaticsnail

[bedoballoons]

this idea has been in my head for so long LMAO but could i request top! lyney x bottom! reader where the reader was initially helping lyney with his makeup but lyney got wayy to riled up by reader being on his lap so they ended up fucking against his vanity

hope you have a good day (and get lots of sleep) 🩷🩷

Oooooo I'm glad it's finally out of your head because it definitely deserves to be written!! Also thank you!! I hope you have a good day as well and that you enjoy~

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~To much to handle~༺}

CW: NSFW! MDNI! Top Lyney! and bottom gn reader! Lyney calls the reader mon amour!

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

"Lyney stop moving, I'm almost done, just gotta do a bit more red." You shifted slightly on his lap, angling yourself better so you could touch up the tear shape on his cheek, completely unaware he was struggling desperately to keep thoughts of you in other positions at bay....the idea of you riding him right now, behind the stage where anyone could see...and the image of his cock so deep in you all you could do was scream for him with that goregous voice of yours while his pace got faster and faster, "Oh-oh my.., could you perhaps move a little faster mon amour?"

"I'm almost done, calm downnn...um...uh...heh, Lyney?" A blush crawled onto your cheeks, your body heating up at the feeling of his growing bulge brushing the inner skin between your plush thighs, only a few thin layers of clothing away from your warmth that called to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean...I just...just...kiss me~" You gasped as he pulled the front of your shirt roughly, drawing your face close to his so his lips could meet yours in a lustful kiss, his tongue forced into your hot mouth, exploring every inch of it hungrily while you moaned against him, his free hand wandering down your body like he'd never touched you before now.

He groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking upwards in a attempt to get friction, but he was to desperate, he needed more. He maneuvered you skillfully, standing up with you in his arms and somehow never breaking the kiss as he carried you to his vanity. His lips left yours for a moment, leaving you gasping for air while he bent you over the daintily decorated furniture and grinding his clothed cock against your ass, ripping a moan from you.

"Mon amour, I just c-cant help it. You do things to me, even when you're just sitting there my mind always wanders~" He whispered his words against the sensitive skin of your neck, his bright purple eyes watching in delight as it sent shivers rolling down your spine, your body pushing back against him needily, you were now just as desperate as he was and he simply couldn't wait to get started.

His hands went to work on your clothes, tossing everything aside that could impede him, before making his way to his own, his dick throbbing almost painfully beside your entrance the second it was released from its cloth confinements. "M-may I?" He licked his lips excitedly, waiting for your response like it could decide his very destiny.

"P-please Lyney~"

He groaned happily, rubbing his tip against your hole just to hear the whiney moan you'd let out and then slowly sliding his whole length inside, your legs instantly turning to jelly beneath you, "S-so tight, oh mon amour you're so tight around me~" You clenched around him tighter, earning a struggled gasp that played in your mind like your favourite song, "M-move nghh~"

"As you wish~" He pulled out almost all the way, his cock already wet with your love and his, the sight only added to the fire inside of him, his body suddenly thrusting into you, his pace growing faster and faster until nothing but sinful noises filled the room, your head thrown back while you sung out his name for all to hear. "Lyne-y!! Ahh-ngh!!! M-more!~"

He followed your command, his dick hitting your insides even harsher and faster, you had no thoughts, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he fucked you senselessly into his vanity, you were seeing nothing but stars~

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[juletheghoul]

Let Me Follow (Part 7)

AN: Ooop. I haven't updated this in a year and I feel terrible, I am trying to go through all of the unfinished fics I have, and update one every week. (dream big Jules) Hopefully get through all of the things I have in my head. Hopefully it's been worth the wait! I've done my best to edit this myself, but it hasn't been beta'd. Enjoy! xo 🩷

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: (18+ NO MINORS) ANGST, language, age-gap (about 10-11 years, legal, reader is of age), Yearning, post-apocalyptic world, Joels injury / ptsd / nightmare

Let me know if I missed anything!

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist Series Masterlist

He’s gone when you wake up. Both of them are, they’re gone most of the day but it makes sense. You chalk it up to Joel catching up with his brother and Ellie taking advantage of the safety of this place. You, in turn, find yourself almost haunting the house Maria and Tommy had put you up in. The time spent in the trailer, although quiet for the most part, was also wrapped up in the web of anxiety. Every second spent there was corrupted with fear of someone finding it, always the danger of infected wandering into the woods and surprising you when you’d go scavenging, and in comparison to that, this felt peaceful. 

This house gave you a chance to rest, to nap and enjoy the safety of the walls surrounding you, surrounding the town itself. Even when you got hungry, it was only a matter of making your way down the street to the cafeteria. People looked at you with curiosity, but didn’t pry, which only inspired intense gratitude. 

The whole day was a much needed respite from the worry and anxiety, until Ellie stormed into the house to find you reading an old novel on the sofa late in the evening. Anger burning on her face and it seemed strange to be so angry in a place like this. 

“What happened?” The adrenaline shoots up, the familiarity of it is so depressing, it seems your body is always ready to feel this way. 

“He’s leaving me.” She runs up the stairs and you find yourself running up after her, the door to the bedroom she’d claimed all but shut in your face before you could follow her inside. 

“Ellie? Can I come in?” You knock, hoping she’ll elaborate, “Ellie?”

“Whatever.” She calls out and you follow her inside, finding her sitting on a dusty bay window. 

“What happened?” Your heart races but you do your best to control your breathing. 

“He’s leaving me,” she sighs, picking up what looks to be someone's journal, “I heard him tell Tommy, that he has to leave me.” You frown at her. Joel hadn’t exactly been the cuddly type but he did care about Ellie, that had been obvious to you. “Maria told me something about him, something that makes sense-” 

“I wouldn’t listen to what Maria has to say about Joel, it seems to me she’s been listening to Tommy say some not-so-nice things about his brother.” Annoyance burns brightly in your gut that she’d dare poison Ellie against the man that had been keeping her safe. 

“No–I didn’t let her talk shit, I told her where to fucking go about that but–” A soft tap on the door pulls you out of the argument, Joel’s voice coming through before he opens the door. 

The familiar ‘Joel-frown’ is back in place as his gaze shifts from Ellie, to you, and back to her again.

“Listen-” He starts, but she doesn’t let him get very far.

“Why are you here?” The anger still burns on her face, but you know what’s really there. Sadness, fear, disappointment, you know because you’ve felt it all before.

“I came here to talk to you, both of you.”

“No, why are you still here? If you’re gonna ditch us then ditch us.” her eyes cast down as she speaks, looking without really seeing the journal in her hands. You see him let out a heavy sigh, resignation taking over. 

“What exactly did you hear?”

“‘I have to leave her, you have to take her’,” your eyebrows must have raised up into your hairline, Joel leaving Ellie had never crossed your mind, “You know I stuck up for you today because I thought-” She bit her lip, cutting off her own words.

“I made this decision for your own good. You’ll be way better off with Tommy, he knows the area better than I do-” He was floundering and it was as though you were listening to a stranger, his whole demeanour completely different from last night. 

“Do you give a shit about me or not?” Her voice rose, and your heart broke for her.

“Of course I do.” 

“Then what are you so afraid of? I’m not her, you know? Maria told me about Sarah-”

“Don’t.” The change in him was chilling, “Don’t say another word.” Seeing his eyes shift, the whole of him as cold as ice. 

“I’m sorry about your daughter, Joel, but I have lost people too.” And there it was. 

He’d had a daughter, and he’d lost her. This was it, the missing piece. It made so much sense, the cloud that followed him around, the loss that poisoned him to the world. It wasn’t just the terrible, awful, practically unbearable state of the world, it was his loss. 

“You have no idea what loss is.” His eyes hardened even more, and you understood why he would be upset. The loss of a child would definitely make anyone lose their minds, but Ellie wasn’t wrong. Everyone in this world knows what loss is.

“Everybody I have cared for has either died or left me. Everybody, fucking except for you!” She pushes him, her anger and hurt getting the best of her and you can’t help but move from your place on the couch to comfort her. “So don't tell me that I'd be safer with somebody else because the truth is I would just be more scared.” Your hand goes to her shoulder, letting her know you’re there for her. 

“You’re right. You aren’t my daughter, and I sure as hell ain’t your dad. Now come dawn, you and I go our separate ways-” Your hand flashes up without your permission, and cracks him clean across the face. It was too much for you to bear. 

“Enough! I am so sick and tired of this, and I am through with letting you act this way. You can’t keep living your life like this, Joel. Head down, barreling through like a juggernaut, cutting through everyone and everything, completely closed off to the world.” The hurt was sharp in your voice- “I can’t even begin to imagine how much losing your daughter must have hurt you, I wish it had never happened. I cannot take it away from you, neither of us can but we don’t deserve for you to treat us this way. Losing her doesn’t mean you can throw Ellie away.” His eyes flashed with something, a hurt so deep it was part of him, “Tomorrow, we’re going–whether it’s with you, or Tommy is up to you.” You turned from him then, gathering Ellie into your arms. You heard the door click, and then you and Ellie were alone. 

-

You spent the night with Ellie.

A soft knock sounded as you gathered the few things you had to take with you, both of you. Ellie opened the door to a very resigned Tommy standing at the door. 

“Y’all ready?” He spoke to both of you, the look on your face leaving no doubt as to whether Ellie would go alone or not.

“Yes, we’re good to go,” you reply and he nods once before leading the way out, “Come on Ellie.” You don’t look at the room across the hall, even as the outline of the door burns bright in your peripheral. That it was closed and he was probably asleep inside only filled your stomach with rocks, so you keep your eyes forward and ignore the feeling.

The morning is crisp enough to see your breath and it wreaths around your head like a halo as you all make your way towards the barn. Your anger with Joel is a simmering pot on the back burner, and that’s where it has to stay, there’s too much to focus on with Ellie to give it any attention. Tommy leads the way, bundled up with a rifle on his back and the anger you’re trying to tamp down finds its bullseye.

“How much shit did you talk about Joel, Tommy? Be honest.” He turns, his brow furrowed, “Must have been a lot, with the way Maria was eyeing him.”

“Yeah, not to mention giving me some bullshit warning about him not being who I thought he was.” Ellie chimes in, he lets out a deep sigh.

“You don’t understand, we did terrible things-“

“Yes, both of you, and you got to explain yourself. You’re letting your grievances with your brother colour the way people in this town view him. If he stays here, you’ve just made his life harder when you both did the same shit.” You round the corner, ducking into the barn to find the man you’re discussing, loading the horse's saddle with what looked to be supplies. You’re angry at him, at the cruel words he threw at Ellie, at the thought that after all of your confessions he might have let you go. It’s hard not to feel relief that he’s here though, ready to follow her, ready to follow you. 

“You came here to say goodbye or something?” Ellie’s voice is neutral, but the hurt simmers under the surface. 

“No, I came here to steal one of these horses.” He kicks at the ground, nervous.

“I woulda gave you one.” Tommy sighs, his frown still in place but now directed at Joel.

“I know. Anyway, that was thirty minutes ago, and I guess you deserve a choice. I still think you’d be better off with Tommy-“

“Let’s go.” She tosses her bag at him. Your lip curls without your permission, but you keep it to yourself.

“Okay.” He grunts out the word, but you can see he’s just as affected as you are. He turns, and speaks to Tommy while you and Ellie lead the horses out, letting them have a moment. 

“You okay?” Ellie’s eyes find yours at the sound of your words, and for a moment you see her age and it breaks your heart. Her eyes are wide, dark shadows underneath them, all of the stress and the weight of her lot in this life painted across her face, and still she smiles. 

“Fuck yeah, all good.” 

God, she’s just a kid. 

“Let’s get going.” Joel comes out, Tommy’s rifle on his back and his eyes are wild, darting between you and Ellie. His words still ring out in your ears, but so does the knowledge of his loss. It’s the Rosetta Stone, the why of all of his anger and hurt and reluctance to open up to anyone and anything coming into focus. 

There are two horses, and Ellie claims one right away, leaving you to share with Joel. He climbs up and swings his leg around, then holds out his hand to help you climb on, and wordlessly you take it. The horse is calm underneath you, for which you are grateful, even when you climb up, much less graceful than Joel and sit tucked into his back. 

The anger in you still burns bright. Too bright to say anything to him just yet, so you let it wash over you. Ignore the happy chant to have him there, to have his familiar, safe shape solid in front of you, and focus on not spooking the animal beneath you. 

Hours pass with small talk between Ellie and Joel, and silence from you. He doesn’t press, but his voice sounds lighter than it ever has with her. You let them have this conversation and bonding and you keep your mouth shut. He tests the waters though, your arms wrap around his waist, and every so often you feel him squeeze your hand or your knee. A silent olive branch, a request for connection and as much as you try to hold out and ignore him, punish him for his cruelty, you cannot help but give in. You press your lips to the little bit of skin exposed at the back of his neck. You can feel the way he melts, and part of you feels guilty for denying him for so long, but then his words come back and so does the anger. 

Ellie has gone ahead, just a little bit, close enough that he can keep an eye on her, but far enough away that he tries his luck with words. 

“It was bad wasn’t it?” He speaks over his shoulder, his words heavy with resignation.

“Real bad.”

He sighs, but says nothing else. You don’t expect an apology, and you don’t get one. It’s there though, the remorse, in his voice, threaded through the soft words and explanations he gives Ellie as the day goes by. He speaks to her of his life before, and it’s a marvel to hear him speak so much, he used to be a contractor. The shape of the word in your mouth feels familiar, one of those words adults used to say but there’s no reference for it in your memory. She is happy, that is all that matters.

When you stop to camp, it’s in a densely populated forest, eerily quiet but good enough. The land is far enough away from any QZ to be free of infected, but they aren’t the biggest worry. He sets up camp, a couple of sleeping bags all piled together.

“Sleep, both of you, I’ll take first watch.” It doesn’t take much convincing on your part, and for once, Ellie doesn’t grumble, she yawns hard enough to tremble and gets into the sleeping bag without comment. You want to give him something, a promise that you’ll discuss what you both know you need to discuss but he shakes his head when your eyes meet. “Sleep, Sunny, you need your rest.”

You nod, and sleep claims you, quick as falling.

You wake with a gasp. 

“You’re okay.” He’s sitting on a fallen log, watching the surrounding darkness. Full consciousness creeps in, and awareness calms the anxiety of whatever nightmare that had spilled over. Even the horses are calm, no immediate danger threatening, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep. 

“I’m up now. Here, give me the gun, you should get some shut-eye.” You stretch for a moment, before getting up. At this point, he knows you better than to argue, and so as much as he wants to keep watch, he gets up with a groan, and climbs into the sleeping bag still permeated with your body heat. The brief spark of warmth and comfort that was born of your new found intimacy with him, although still there, is obscured by the things you know you need to discuss, but it won’t be tonight. He knows it too, and so you keep watch, and when the morning comes, you all set out again. 

-

Days pass, and you travel in peace. The days are cold but clear, and he surprises you even more. He teaches Ellie to shoot, instructs her on how to load and reload the rifle, how to aim and even lets her keep a pistol and you can see the father so clearly in him. He notices your quiet withdrawal, and he lets you have your silence, but it doesn’t last.

Three nights into your trek, he finally breaks the silence. 

You feel him slip into the sleeping bag behind you, the night is colder than you expected and his warmth is welcome, even if your heart is still hurt. You’d found a small copse of trees, hidden enough that you could all sleep relatively calmly.

“Sunny.” It’s just above a whisper,  “How long you gonna punish me?” His breath tickles the little hairs at the back of your neck, raising goosebumps in its wake. You sigh.

“I’m not punishing you Joel.” His hand slips around your waist.

“You’re angry at me, I can feel it.” He presses his lips to the skin just below your ear, soft and sweet and your eyes close at the feel of it, you turn towards him. 

“I’m hurt,” he pulls you close enough to tangle his legs with yours, “Not just for what you said to Ellie, but for what happened to you.” You felt the clench in his jaw, felt how his body tensed. “I’m not trying to pry into your past Joel, I don’t want to open old wounds and make you relive anything, but I’ve been with the two of you long enough to see the bond. That girl-” you gestured to Ellie’s sleeping form near the horses, “-sees you as a father. You’re all she has, and you were ready to drop her.” 

“I know.” He pressed his forehead to yours, the tension going out of him like a balloon deflating. “It’s why I didn’t think I could do this, I am scared that I won’t be able to protect her, if she got hurt on my watch I couldn’t forgive myself.” All of a sudden you felt stupid, his anger and lashing out at her was a way to protect her, it didn’t excuse it, but it definitely explained it. “I don’t think she heard my whole conversation with Tommy, I was tellin’ him how scared I am.” 

“She needs you around, she needs to know you aren’t going to abandon her.” You can’t help but bring your hands to his face, comfort him. “We need you, I need you, I don’t want you to leave me behind either.” The little part of yourself that you’d been stomping down reared its head. “I’m sorry I slapped you, I shouldn’t have done that.” He shakes his head, dismissing your apology. 

“I won’t leave you behind. I meant it when I said I needed you to be patient with me.” He presses his lips to your hand, then to your lips, an apology and a promise and you clutch to it, despite the fear that permeates every aspect of the world. You don’t say anything more, trusting that when he's ready, he’ll tell you about his loss.

-

The university is a massive, rundown building, eerily quiet, without many signs of life. 

“No fireflies.” Ellie points out when you stop just in front of an overturned car.

“Probably in the middle, safer.” Joel leads the way, and the three of you continue throughout the grounds. He answers Ellie’s questions about University life, about anything and everything she can think of while you focus on your surroundings. The quiet irks you.

Monkeys roam the campus the closer you get to the building, and she’s excited to see them, you’re a little more wary but they scatter at the sound of you approaching.

“Lookit.” He points to a sign, a bright firefly symbol spray-painted onto it.

“Here we go.” She sounds a lot braver than she looks, her expression matches yours. This whole place was creepy, and your stomach roiled the closer you got to the entrance of the building. The sound of the horses' hooves clicking onto the pavement echo around you as you approach, guard houses sit unmanned just outside the door, and your stomach drops further. 

“Guard houses.” Joel voices your thoughts. 

“No guards.” You reply, and the mood sours further. “Let’s tie the horses, and continue on foot.” You gesture to a tree and they both nod in agreement. With them taken care of, you make your way inside. 

“Gun?” Ellie looks to Joel, and he nods, she takes out the pistol he’d trusted her with, his rifle at the ready and you follow close behind him, no weapon, but eyes sharp.

The inside is abandoned, but there is a mess of tables, discarded equipment and supplies left behind. 

“There were definitely doctors here.” She rifles through a stack of old gauze, gloves and other things littering the tables, pulling a list from under an empty box.

“This is a packing list,” Joel takes the list from her, “Something you make before moving.” There’s a distinct lack of dust and dirt blown in on the mess left behind you cannot help but focus on.

“Looks like they just left-” Something crashes above, movement in one of the higher floors interrupting your sentence, “maybe not all of them.” You move as one, slowly and quietly following the source of the noise, your heart races, scared of who or what you might find here. Joel leads the way, his rifle at the ready, Ellie brings up the rear, gun in her hands and pointed down like he’d taught her. The place looks more like an abandoned hospital than a school. There are carts knocked over, hospital beds and IV bags still hooked up to the poles littering the hallways. 

He counts down silently, hand just hovering over the door containing the source, and then opens it. A monkey shrieks, and seeing you jumps out the open window. You let out a heavy breath. 

“Well, at least it ain’t clickers.” Joel’s tone is as relieved as you feel. 

“Yeah, no fireflies either. Maybe in all that research they turned into fucking monkeys!” He frowns at her, there’s a disappointment heavy in the air. So much travelling, just to come up empty. There’s a giant map in the middle of the room though. You make your way over to it, there are different colour pins all leading up to one place, Salt Lake City, Utah.

“That’s where they went?” She’s staring at the map beside you. 

“All the pins lead there.” You press your finger to the spot on the map, Joel is beside you, all three of you studying it. 

“Maybe they were getting ahead of the weather? Better facilities? I don’t know.” He frowns, letting out a breath but you hear it, people talking outside the window. You shush them, gesturing to the window but they hear it now too. Your heart jackhammers in your chest, any and all peace you’d found from finding this place empty is gone. 

Quietly you all move closer and peek out the window, and see four men walking past, they hold crowbars, and baseball bats and it’s obvious they’re raiders. 

“Out the back.” Joel whispers, and then the three of you take off. Within a few tense minutes, you’re all back outside, ducking behind piled up sandbags to make sure you don’t encounter anyone. With the coast clear, you all run towards the horses. Ellie climbs up onto hers, and you climb onto the one you share with Joel while he unties them. 

“Joel!” Ellie screams, one man has followed, baseball bat high in the air but Joel turns in time and ducks out of the way, the bat swings hard, hitting the tree and shatters. Ellie holds up her arm, aiming the gun but they move too erratically. 

“Wait Ellie! You might shoot Joel–” She puts it down, he doesn’t need help, they grapple and slam against the tree but then Joel has wrapped his arm around the man's neck, and with a sickening crunch, he falls. When Joel turns, your stomach drops. 

He looks down, and the butt of the broken bat is sticking out of his lower abdomen. He takes a deep breath, and pulls it out and a wave of nausea hits you to see at least three inches of wood come out, his blood pulsing between his fingers. 

“Joel–get on the horse!” You scream out to him, seeing the others spotting you and running full speed. He struggles, but climbs up with a pained yell, swinging his leg over and managing to get in front of you. 

“Get back!” Ellie follows behind, shooting at them when they get too close, with the frosty wind whipping at your face you get away. The horses gallop across the grounds and away, your grip on Joel is iron.

You know that going so fast is only hurting him but you have to get far enough away that they won’t follow. 

“They don’t seem to be following us, I think we’re safe.” Ellie calls out behind you and you’re glad she’s keeping an eye on your back, because you cannot focus on anything other than Joel’s weakening grip on the reins. 

“Joely, baby you have to hold on, please–” He teeters, swaying like a boat in choppy waters and you feel the way he cannot hold himself up anymore. “Joel-Joel!” He topples off the horse and into a pile of snow despite your best efforts, he's so pale you can barely contain the tears that flow freely down your face. “Joel, please, please wake up, we need you to wake up.” You slap at his face, but he doesn’t stir. Ellie is off her horse and kneeling beside you, trying to aid in waking him but she’s as unsuccessful as you are. She presses his hands as well as hers to where the blood pulses out of him slowly. 

“Joel, open your eyes.” You stare at him while she speaks, pressing your hand to his face, “I can’t fucking do this without you, I don’t know where the fuck I’m going, or what the fuck I’m going to do, we need you Joel please, get up.” Tears stream down her face and it hits you then. You’ve cursed him, this is what comes from loving another person. 

There’s no time, you have to move him. 

“Let’s get him somewhere safe, Ellie, one of those houses.” You gesture to a residential area not far from where he fell. There’s no way you can carry him, instead you look for something to put him on that you can drag like a sled. You send Ellie to look, warning her to be careful and to keep her gun out and she comes back with a wide mat, almost like a big dog bed and it’s perfect. You shuffle him onto it, and tie the mat to the back of one of the horses, pulling him towards one of the houses. 

It takes so long to get him into the basement. By the time you’ve piled a stained mattress and musty blankets and laid him on it, your skin is slick with frozen sweat, your breath comes out in pants, exhausted with the effort. There had been an old towel in one of the bathrooms of the house, Ellie had grabbed it while you wrestled him to where he lay. Once settled, you ripped it up, and moved his shirt to press it to the wound, barely looking at it. You had to stop the bleeding, if he kept bleeding he’d die. 

“What are we going to do?” She watches, terrified. 

“I don’t know.” You want to comfort her, but you cannot stop swallowing the lump in your throat. You both stay quiet for a while after that, focused on his breathing. 

It’s because I love him

The thought squeezes your heart like a vice, the curse of you fills your head, overtaking every thought. This is what happens when you love another person, the black hole has taken him just like it took your parents, just like it took Johnny and there is nothing to be gained but misery and heartache. The black pit of your love is full of emptiness and all you’d done was sentence him to death. You should have just let them leave, given them your supplies and stayed in your trailer. 

Tears stream steadily down your face, hoping against hope that he’ll wake up, that the wound will close, that nothing inside had been too badly damaged. You hoped you’d wake up back in that bed in Jackson, that this was all just some horrible nightmare and that he’d be there, rubbing your back. You didn’t wake up though, and he lay there motionless while you cried, breathing shallow enough to fill your stomach with nothing but dread and nausea and regret and every other horrible thing you’ve felt since this world went to shit. 

You move the towel after a while, to see how bad the damage actually is and your body tenses, it’s angry and red and still blood pulses out, his skin shredded where the sharp wood had pierced him.

“We need to close it, we should see if we can find a needle and thread.” You speak to her, but she watches him, his eyes are open, and there is nothing but naked fear in them. He groans and grabs at your arm hard enough to bruise when you press the towel back to the wound. 

“Go.” He grits it out, at both of you. She puts her hands on yours, helping to staunch the blood. “Go, leave, take the gun.” He repeats it. 

“Shut up, shut the fuck up Joel!” She all but screams at him but he grabs her by the jacket, pulling her close. 

“You go.” He doesn’t relent, “You go. You go north, go to tommy.” He shivers, speaking the words clearly and when he pushes her back, she stumbles, staring at him in disbelief. His eyes find yours, and he repeats himself. “Leave.” He does not expect to survive, and all at once you are angry with him, angry with yourself for ever having opened your heart, angry at the world for your lot in life. His eyes find yours then, tears slowly streaming from them, the same anger burning in your chest shining out through his eyes. 

You wipe at your eyes, and rise. Leaving him there, as you make your way up the stairs, and out of the basement. 

She catches up to you in the kitchen. 

“Are we really leaving him?” 

“No. I’m looking for something to stitch him up, but if you want to go find Tommy I won’t stop you, you can shoot, and he’s taught you how to keep watch and find safe places to sleep. You can take all of the supplies–” You open cupboards, pulling them off the hinges in your haste and spilling drawers in the pursuit of something, anything to help him. 

“I’m not leaving either.” She moves, and helps you search. 

—

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[httpvomitello]

hii, this is a kind of sensitive topic and risky ask but could you do if the bay turtles saw your sh scars? ive got scars myself so pls dont take this the wrong way😭🩷 you dont have to write this if you dont wanna ofc x

Hello, helloooo! I hope you're feeling better, and remember your scars only show how strong you were to endure all of this. If you or anyone wants to talk, know that I'll be here!

I decided to do it in separate parts, so it will be better for you to read. ♡♡♡♡

TW: talk about old scars from s a, scars

Unseen Battles *⁠.⁠✧

The lair was unusually quiet. Mikey had finally crashed after a marathon gaming session, Donnie was locked away in his lab, and Raph had gone out to patrol. You were curled up on the couch in the common area, a blanket loosely draped over your shoulders. The dull hum of machinery was the only sound filling the space as you absentmindedly traced the scars on your arm.

They were old, but tonight, they felt as fresh as the day they were made. You hadn’t noticed Leo standing in the doorway, his blue eyes softening as they caught sight of you. He approached quietly, his footsteps gentle but deliberate.

"Couldn't sleep?" His voice was low, soothing, as he settled beside you.

You shrugged, offering a faint smile. "Something like that."

His gaze flicked to your arm, to the faint scars that crisscrossed your skin. His heart clenched, but he stayed silent, waiting for you to speak.

After a moment, you followed his line of sight, your stomach tightening. "They’re not exactly pretty, huh?"

Leo shook his head. "They tell a story," he said softly. "One I’d like to know, if you’re ready to share."

You hesitated, the weight of his words settling over you. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him—Leo had seen the worst parts of you and loved you anyway. But these scars were different. They were from a time when you’d felt lost and alone, before he’d come into your life and made you believe in something more.

"They're from a time when I wasn’t sure I’d make it," you admitted quietly, your fingers tightening around the edge of the blanket. "Before you and the guys, things were... dark. I fought through it, but it left marks."

Leo didn’t say anything right away, but his hand found yours, his fingers lacing with yours gently. "But you won," he said after a moment. "And that’s what matters."

His words, simple and steady, hit you harder than you expected. Tears welled in your eyes, but you blinked them away, squeezing his hand in return. "It’s not easy to talk about," you confessed. "But with you, it’s different. I feel safe."

Leo’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand, his touch grounding. "You don’t have to carry it alone," he said. "We face things together, remember?"

You nodded, a small, genuine smile breaking through the heaviness. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you."

He smiled back, his eyes filled with warmth. "You deserve the world," he said softly, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "And I’m not going anywhere."

For the first time in what felt like forever, the weight on your chest eased. And tonight, that was enough.

[blacksapphrodite]

🍅 Tomato Magic for Love and Prosperity ❤️

Like most everything I cook, this sauce gets the magic treatment. It makes adding magic to other meals I cook during the week a breeze! I always make this in the slow cooker on a weekend when I can babysit it. Sauces like this should be cooked low and slow, and it’s less likely to burn in a crock-pot. It can, of course, be cooked on the stove as well, but it requires a lot more monitoring. Whatever you use, treat this sauce like it’s your baby, and it’ll come out amazing. 

With the main ingredient in this sauce being, well, tomatoes, it lends itself very well to love and prosperity magic. Tomatoes are considered an aphrodisiac and are tied to Lady Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty.🩷 They’re also known to dispel negativity and bring wealth to the home. So this would be a good recipe to help inspire a happy marital home, or to serve on a date night, or bring about love or wealth in general! I like to think of it as a spell for a loving and prosperous home.💕 I use cans of crushed tomatoes, but you can use fresh as well if you have some nice ripes ones. My last attempt at fresh didn’t end well, but I’ll try it again soon and let you all know how it goes! Now let’s get to the actual recipe. 

Ingredients

2 large cans of crushed Tomatoes (prosperity, passion, love)

Garlic, minced and/or roasted* (love, purity, banishing negativity)

Water or Broth (about a can’s worth)

1 small can of tomato paste (guard against negativity) 

1 medium Onion, minced (endurance, stability, banishing negativity)

A couple glugs of olive oil 

A glug of red wine

Half of a roasted, skinned and pureed red bell pepper (optional, but so good!)*

Bay leaf (love, passion, harmony)

Basil (wealth,love, faithfulness)

Oregano (ward against negative energy, happiness, peaceful energy)

Thyme (positivity, prosperity)

Parsley (happiness, passion, protection)

Sage (prosperity, mental clarity) 

Rosemary (beauty, love, general magical boost)

Marjoram (happiness, love, money)

Sea Salt (purity, protection)

Pepper (passion)

Crushed red pepper (passion, a spell booster)

You can go about making this sauce two different ways. In one version, you just toss everything into the pot, give it a good couple of clockwise stirs, turn the heat to low and let it cook all day long. This, of course, still tastes amazing and it’s incredibly easy. You can draw some sigils on the pot or crock-pot in dry erase marker for an extra boost to your spell, too! 

The second method is also easy, but takes a bit more time and mess. In this version, you’ll want to saute your onions and garlic in some of the olive oil. Then, add the tomato paste with some water and cook that down. Add your wine and cook it down some more. If you’re using the roasted bell pepper, add that to this mixture too. Dump this amazing smelling concoction into your crock pot with the tomatoes and other ingredients and then let it cook all day. You’ll have an extra pan to wash, but even more depth of flavor! 

Say your intent and affirmations every time you check on the sauce to stir. If you have a red and/or gold or green pillar candles or tea lights, light those as well and place them in the kitchen. As you add and adjust your herbs and spices, continue to charge with your intent. At the end of the day, serve over some steaming pasta with parmesan cheese (or a good vegan substitute!), and enjoy!

I always make extra to save and use throughout the week in other dishes that could use a love or money boost. Plus it tastes amazing. So make a night of it, and enjoy! 

*I use. A lot of garlic. You could use as much as a whole head, but I usually use about half of one. If you have the patience to roast it, do so. It’s sooooo good. To roast, peel off some of the outer skin of the head, cut off the top, coat it in olive oil and roast it at around 350 degrees for an hour. You can just squeeze out that garlicky goodness. 

*To roast a red bell pepper, coat it in oil, broil it until the skin blackens. Place it in a paper or plastic bag and close it so the steam continues to cook it and loosen the skin. Once it’s cool, peel the skin off! You can then chop or puree it for your sauce. 

Keep in mind that you can alter the purpose of this spell with your intent, using different herbs, etc. This is a base recipe and you can tailor it to your needs. :)

(I'm cleaning up my blog and reposting some of my spells/etc that were once hosted on my website.💕)

[xo-cod]

i wanna give simon the BIGGEST hug ever !!! :(

me too :(( 🥺🩷🥹

100% would give the best hugs ever too :( his arms are your safe haven, your sanctuary in the world. and when he hugs, he gives his all. his arms wrapped around your back and hips, gently stroking soft circles into the skin while he cuddles you close. holding you as if you'd shatter between his calloused palms, his lips finding their way across your forehead for comfort. and the love that he holds pratically rolls off from him in waves, you can feel how much adoration he has in his heart for you <3

him nuzzling his body closer to yours for warmth and comfort, your heartbeat echoing in his ears as a true reminder that your ere his and you're alive and that you weren't going anywhere. even big bad soldiers get insecure and worried but your hugs keep his doubts at bay, he doesn't need to put up a front with you. all the walls protecting his cold heart, the walls he spent years hardening and perfecting all but crumbles down piece by piece the longer you hug him close to you. simon clinging onto your body like a lifeline, one of the few occasions he allows himself to be truly vulnerable and holding you like he needed air to breathe. unable to let you wriggle away from his grasp, not that you ever even wanted to <3

but simon breathing in your scent and caressing your skin to keep him calm and steady. his hands memorising every dip and curve in your body, his mind finally calming down after a long brutal day with him snuggled up in your arms. there's no expectation, no facade he has to keep up. ghost is left at the door, here he is simply simon. a man hopelessly in love with his beau

there was no better way to unwind truly <3

[milaisreading]

Good day, dear! ^*^

I'm an anon who requested you some manager stuff yesterday and OMG YOU MADE ME SOO HAPPY! You're my favorite bllk blog now and I love your bllk manager series A LOT! Thank you so much for writing this. I'm not good enough at reviews but your writing is really good. I like everything: your long funny and cute scenarios, your imagination, manager-chan's personality. Thank you so much for writing my requests, I'm really thankful. Please stay safe and happy!~

Can I ask you for headcanons/scenarios about manager-chan takes care of boys (you can choose any characters you want) when they are sick/injured or have a mental breakdown?

HAVE AN AMAZING DAY!~

With love,

Garden.

Author: OMG?! Thank u sm from the words, it means a lot🩷 I didn't expect to become anyone's favorite, since there are so many talented BLLK writers, but thank u🩷 Hope u like this one and thanks for the request! Stay safe and thank u for reading 🩷🩷

Warnings ⚠️: none in particular. Reader uses she/her and there might be manga spoilers. Requests are open

⚽️Blue Lock belongs to: Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Reo!" (Y/n) yelled in shock as the boy fell in the middle of practice, thankfully Baro caught before anything could happen.

"What happened?" Bachira wondered as Nagi and (Y/n) ran over to the boy. His breathing was pretty heavy and it looked like his face was getting redder and redder by the minute. Cautiously, (Y/n) put her hand on his forehead, flinching at how hot it was.

"He has a fever. Nagi, can you carry him to the nearest medic room."

The white haired boy quickly nodded his head and picked Reo up and ran out of the training hall.

"The rest of you continue practice. I will inform Ego-san what had happened. Please don't cause a ruckus."

"Sure!"

"Don't worry, I will keep them at bay."

"Everything will be fine." (Y/n) smiled at their words and ran out of the room, hoping that it was just a fever Reo had.

"(Y/n) is so considerate~" Gagamaru said as the others nodded in agreement.

"I wish I was Reo right now..."

"Same."

"So it's just a fever? Nothing more serious?" Nagi asked, trying to hide his concern as (Y/n) walked out of the medic room. The girl smiled at the gesture, knowing how close these two are.

"Yeah, the doctor said it is probably a seasonal flue. Reo should be up on his feet in a few days. You should go and finish the training, before Ego-san takes your phone privileges away."

"And you? I can't leave Reo alone." Nagi said nervously as (Y/n) patted his arm.

"No worries! I will stay here and take care of him. Ego-san will send one of the senior staff members to fill in my manager duties for the next few days."

Nagi's short lived nervousness and worry died down as he realized what that meant. The boy slowly leaned down and blinked at (Y/n).

"What do you mean you won't be with us during training?"

"I can hardly be with Reo and you guys at the same time." (Y/n) answered. Nagi's eyes were dotted for a moment, then it looked like a light bulb had gone off and he started coughing.

"Oh! I don't feel well either... Seems like I have to stay with you and Reo-"

"Nagi Seishiro, get back to training... and never try your hand in acting." Ego's voice came from one of the speakers and (Y/n) laughed at the statement, as Nagi didn't do well in that department. The boy huffed and after a minute or two he agreed to go, although reluctantly.

Sighing, she walked back into the room and the nurse gave her some instructions on which medicine she should give him and what to do when the fever gets higher. (Y/n) was also given a new meal list that the boy will have to follow.

'Some of this food makes me realize how lucky I am to still be healthy.' (Y/n) cringed and ran out to get the lunch.

A while later (Y/n) came back with the food, just in time as Reo was waking up. She put the tray down and walked over to where the boy was trying to sit up.

"Don't get up so fast. Your head will start spinning!" (Y/n) warned as she helped the boy up and lean against his pillow.

"What happened?" Reo asked, feeling his face get even redder at the closeness.

"Nothing much, you seemed to have caught a seasonal flue or something. Ego-san said that you will stay here for the next few days, so practice in canceled for you."

"Oh? Sorry... I didn't want to cause any issues. Why are you here though? Shouldn't you be with the team?" Reo wondered as (Y/n) went to get the tray with food.

"I am here to take care of you. Ego-san already called in for someone to do my manager job. Everything will be fine." (Y/n) grinned as the purple-haired boy blinked at her words, her words slowly registering in his brain.

'Take care...of me?! Wait! She will stay here with me for the next few days? Alone?! Breath, Reo! Play it cool! Losing it in front of (Y/n) will be of no use.' The boy gulped and even though he was sick, he felt a weird bubble of happiness light up inside of him.

And so, truthfully to (Y/n)'s words for the next few days she barely left Reo's side during the day. Whatever he needed she would get for him, check his temperature and talk over the most random things while (Y/n) was cleaning up for the day. Reo himself felt at peace after a very long time, knowing he was cared for so much by his own crush really meant a lot to him.

'She looks even prettier today than yesterday. I wonder how the others are doing without her... must suck being them!'

3 days have passed and while Reo was enjoying his time being sick, the rest...well they didn't like this new arrangement at all. Not only will Reo miss out the practices for the next few days, but (Y/n) will also be gone. Nagi didn't like any of this, the substitute manager didn't allow him to play on his phone during the break. Baro, Rin and Isagi got punished by running 5 laps for every argument, Aryu was forced to tie up his hair in a bun, Bachira was called for a time off every time he went above what was needed for the exercise and Gagamaru... well he couldn't take any more criticism on his stance at the goal, since it was the most comfortable one for him.

"This is unbearable... When is (Y/n) coming back?" Chigiri whispered as he untangled his hair.

'I miss (Y/n)'s way of tying it."

"I don't know, but I can't do this running for too long." Isagi groaned along with Rin. The two already had 2 arguments.

"I don't like this guy at all." Baro muttered.

"What are we supposed to do? Ego-san ordered her to take care of Reo. Lucky bastard..." Otoya said, glaring at the new manager, who was busy scolding Bachira and Kurona for playing rough again.

"I hate this training. If only he would stop telling me every 2 minutes to change the way I stand... (Y/n) always encourages me to do it my way." Gagamaru groaned, taking a sip of his water.

Nagi didn't speak at all, he was in a foul mood ever since that incident happened, and not being able to play on his phone and see both (Y/n) and Reo was taking a toll on him.

Kunigami kept on sulking, as the new man kept telling him to slow down at certain times, Yukimiya and Karasu got scolded at least 3 times for joking and not taking anything seriously. Hiori by now was the only one who was on the new manager's good side.

"That guy pisses me off more than Kaiser." Kurona said, sitting down next to Karasu.

"Welcome to the club. His stuck up nature explains why he isn't a manager." Kunigami said, missing the way practice used to be less stressful.

"My monster is telling me to kick a ball in his face next time." Bachira grinned.

"I would say don't... but please do." Rin groaned.

"Why are Niko and Hiori pissed?" Isagi wondered as the others turned to look at them.

"Huge issue! We need to speak with Ego-san!"

"I wish Reo never got sick or miraculously gets better!"

"Yeah, you are not the only one who wants that." Baro rolled his eyes.

"No! That new guy just trash talked (Y/n) to a staff member and said he will ask Ego-san to get a new manager." Niko and Hiori yelled at the same time. An eerie silence fell on the group and they snapped their eyes at the duo.

"What?! What do you mean change managers?!" Isagi yelled out, being the first one to get out of the shock, followed by Chigiri and Bachira.

"Alright, I am throwing hands then if that's what he wants." Bachira said, but got held back by Yukimiya.

"Did you two hear that even right? (Y/n) does a great job." Gagamaru asked as Niko nodded his head.

"We heard him talk about it outside. We need to talk with Ego-san or Teieri-san!" Hiori exclaimed.

"Hmmm... Isagi, Baro, Kunigami and I will go talk with Ego-san. The rest of you stay here and cause as much ruckus for that bastard as possible." Rin spoke up as the others nodded their heads. As much as the boy tried to keep his calm, he really couldn't. Rin held (Y/n) to a great standard and anyone who tarnished her like that man did deserves at least to lose his job.

"Your fever went down! Maybe one more day of rest and medication, and you are free to go!" (Y/n) exclaimed as Reo nodded his head. He was happy that he was getting better, but he will miss these past few days where (Y/n) gave him her full, undivided attention.

'Man... this day is both good and sad.'

"Ya know! I am happy to see you play again!" (Y/n) suddenly said, causing the girl to look up at her in surprise.

"Really? My skills are nothing special though. Far away from Nagi, Isagi or Rin." Reo said, and he really meant it. Although he had Nagi on his side while playing, he was far from his genius best friend when it comes to talent. That alone caused a flood of insecurities to enter his body whenever (Y/n) would watch the team play, as he knew she probably had her eyes more on the skilled players like Isagi or Rin or Baro.

"What do you mean? Not everyone can copy as fast as you can, basically make themselves invisible. Just because you aren't like Rin or Isagi or anyone on the team, doesn't mean you aren't a great player." (Y/n) started speaking, and Reo's full attention was now on her. The boy could feel his heartbeat quicken and his cheeks started to turn a light pink shade.

"Y-you think so?"

"Of course! You survived this long because of your own skills, not Nagi's. Don't put yourself down. I for one, find you great!" (Y/n) said, giving him a closed eyes smile. Reo felt his heart nearly leave his chest at the last part.

He was about to answer back when the doors to the medic room opened rather quickly, startling the duo.

"What?"

'Not now... we had a moment!' Reo groaned as he made the voices of Chigiri and Bachira out.

"(Y/n)! Please come back, this is getting unbearable!" Bachira said, running to Reo's bed where (Y/n) was.

"What do you mean?" She wondered.

"What Bachira wants to say is... this substitute manager sucks." Chigiri said honestly.

"He is strict and yells at us for no reason most of the time. Aryu even has to wear his hair in a bun." (Y/n) winced a little at that part, knowing Aryu hates that a lot.

"So I am guessing you are disappointed in the arrangement Ego-san and I came up with..." The girl laughed nervously as the other two nodded their heads.

"Well not really. Please tell us you are coming back soon." A pouting Bachira said as he tugged on (Y/n)'s shirt. The girl looked between the duo and Reo before sighing.

"Well, Reo should be up on his feet and training tomorrow, we are just waiting for what the nurse has to say." (Y/n) grinned, patting the said boy's back.

"Ahh that's good then." Chigiri and Bachira said in unison as Reo pouted a little.

'Well, at least I got compliments and care from her these past few days... It felt really nice to hear all that.' The purple-haired boy thought as he smiled softly.

'He really got all that care and attention from (Y/n) alone to himself... how do I make myself sick?!' Chigiri wondered.

'Do I need to take cold showers or pray for a flue now?' Bachira thought, trying to stop himself from glaring at Reo.

Meanwhile on the other side of the building, Ego was looking dumbfounded at the four boys in front of him.

"What do you mean fire her? She is the only one who could put up with you idiots."

"That's what we said! So you won't listen to him?" Rin questioned as Ego nodded his head.

"I won't. Now get out of my office, I will deal with that man."

"Thank you, Ego-san." Isagi said, genuinely feeling relieved that the man was on their side.

"I still think we should beat him up."

Baro whispered to Kunigami, who nodded his head.

[suugarbabe]

hii, congratulations on the 1k followers! and i have a requested for you

not sure if it is a specific trope but, theodore nott and a reader where theyre friends and both oblivious to each others feelings. then, at night, after a bay day they end up together, something like this. just a cute moment where they feel free to be themselves and share a genuine comfortable moment

hope you have fun writing this! 🩷

ignorance is bliss except when its ignorance of Theo Nott's feelings for you and vise versa

You weren't an idiot, your grades alone proved that. But as Pansy would tell you, there's a difference between book smart and common sense, and your common sense of awareness was highly lacking. At least according to Pansy, because two weeks ago she told you that she thought Theo may like you back; actually, she said she knew he liked you back, but you just blew it off.

You had confided in her two years ago about your crush on your best friend, how you had begun to notice your platonic friendship growing into feelings that were more romantic. Your friend group had constantly teased both of you openly for years, jokingly calling you Mrs. Nott, suggesting there was more than meets the eye, things like that.

At the beginning you had always denied it, told them to fuck off and leave you guys alone, that you two were just best friends and Draco and Mattheo were just jealous that they could barely get a girl to stay around them for more than one night let alone be an actual friend.

However, lately when those same jokes would happen, your cheeks would burn, your heart would flutter, your stomach would tighten in knots. You would still laugh it off, but you couldn't help that your eyes would wonder to Theo, trying to gauge his reactions and see if they were any different.

To you, there was nothing different in Theo, he still joked and laughed about everything as always. Still wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, still gave your temple a chaste kiss and told his friends to fuck off. But his lips on your skin left you dizzy, and it was hard to avoid the looks Pansy would give you after interactions like that.

But after the day you had today, you didn't care what anyone thought, you didn't think about your feelings, you just wanted Theo. Wanted him like the old days when he could comfort you and hold you when you were upset, when he would tell you stories about his shenanigans with the other boys just to make you laugh and forget about whatever it was you were worried about.

When the boys walked into the common room and Theo saw you on a sofa near the fire, arms wrapped around your shins and chin on your knees, he told the guys he'd meet them later and walked over to you.

"Can I sit?" you didn't lift your head up at the sound of his voice, you knew who it was. "Always can, Teddy."

Theo sat on the couch next to you, pulling his long legs beneath him sitting criss-cross, "You know you're the only person I let call me that."

"I'm pretty sure I've heard Draco and Mattheo both call you Teddy before," you stared at the crackling flames in front of you, magically licking the edges of the wood in the fireplace. Theo snorted, "I didn't allow them to call me that, I definitely beat their arse after."

You turned your head, resting your cheek on the tops of your knees now to look at him, "So why haven't you kicked my arse yet?" There was the smallest smile on your face and Theo felt like he'd won the lottery with just that small change in your mood.

Theo displayed a toothy grin, one he typically only saved for you, "You're the most important person in my life, bella ragazza." You sat up straighter, eyes locked with his now. You scooted closer to him, close enough that you were able to lean your head on his shoulder.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, giving your side a slight squeeze, making you giggle before telling him to stop. You felt him place a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You looked back into the fire, basking in it's warmth, in the feeling of Theo's fingertips dancing in the sliver of skin peeks from under your jumper, in the possibility that maybe Pansy was right, and Theo does feel the same about you as you do him.