#he is. clothed in this scene I'm gonna put a shirt on him

[blujayonthewing]

baby boy. baby

[halfvalid]

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 

“Not really what I’m into.” 

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.” 

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 

“You always look nice.” 

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 

“Better how?” 

“You can probably run in it.” 

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 

“Because of… clothing?” 

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 

“Let me see.” 

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” 

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“Am not.” 

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 

“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 

Your breath caught. 

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 

© halfvalid 2023

[miguelhugger2099]

Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits.  “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

[amymbona]

idk if this is gonna make sense but do yk the game twister? like with the colourful mat and you always end up tangled with each other?

so hear me out- you and art are playing together with patrick being the person that spins and tells you guys where to move.. but instead hes just trying to put you guys into sexual positions since he knows art has a fat crush on you😵‍💫

just ends in either you teasing art while playing or patrick getting you guys to fuck eventually (like making up his own rules - if you fall you take off a piece of clothing - etc.)

I RLLY HOPE THIS MAKES SENSE IM SORRY ITS KINDA LONG

FUUUUCK USER YOU'RE A GENIUS.

You're genuinely so into the game, and end up squatting with your arms crossed in front of you, while Art's face is like directly behind your ass. He can see the lace of your panties where your shirt rode up with the stretch of your back and he has to physically resist the urge to kiss the soft skin there.

Patrick, seeing it all, smirks and spins the wheel, but completely ignores whatever it lands on. "Right hand on green, Art."

"Oh, okay," Art gasps with almost child like innocence, searching for the right spot. And the only suitable one seems to be on the front of your own hand.

So he does the only possible thing, extending his right arm to place his palm on the green circle, completely enveloping you from the top. His chest presses into your back and you catch the tiniest hint of his boner pressing into your ass.

"Left foot on yellow, Y/N," Patrick commands, not even bothering to spin the wheel.

You try to do so, the top of your head bumping into Art's chin, and your back practically molds against his chest as you extend your left leg behind yourself. "Fuck, I'm gonna fall."

"Just hold it, Y/N, don't be a pussy," Patrick mutters with a roll of his eyes, loving the way you two are pressed together. "Ready for another round, Art?"

Eventually, the two of you end up tangled in a mess, limbs intertwined. At one point, your crotches rub together, like really really hard and Art thinks he might cum right there. Luckily for him, your legs give up under you and you fall straight on your bum, complaining about a lost game.

The boys know how much of a competitive girl you are, and evening something as simple as twisted is able to ignite the fire that burns on your heart. And the good friend Patrick is, he decides to give you another chance to prove yourself.

"How about a new rule, hm? If you fall, take something off," he offers, crossing one leg over the other were he's sitting. "We can continue until you're both naked."

He's an asshole, a proper fucking asshole. But Art makes sure to get on his knees and thank him next time when they're alone, because - fuck - the moment your bare boobs bounce in front of his face is like seeing a real angel descend from the sky. He's almost naked as well, just in his boxers now, his boner very much waving hello at you.

The positions you end in are even more awkward. At one point, Art end up on all fours, but in the other way, so his bum is just barely lifted off of the ground, with you hovering above him, legs spread on either side of his head. His cock is throbbing in his pants and his eyes are so wide at the sight of a wet pool of arousal soaking through the pink cotton of your panties.

"Art," Patrick hums, an amused expression on his face as he keeps studying the scene in front of him. "Mouth on pink."

Art's eyes snap towards his friend. "What?"

It's obvious what Patrick is referencing. And he's so fucking proud of himself for it. "You heard me, man."

"C'mon, Art," you almost whine impatiently, wiggling above him. Your full thighs jiggle and Art has a back time holding back a moan.

"Oh- okay," he swallows heavily, with a hesitant nod pressing his lips to the pink cotton of your panties. A breathy moan is heard above him, such a calm sound.

Art really can't help himself. He can't wait for any other instruction from his friend, he can't even hold himself back now that his face is smushed against your arousal. He licks a thick stripe and sucks in the sticky wetness that has soaked through the fabric, slowly losing himself in the sweet taste. Patrick chuckles at the eagerness and you do too, but with much less harshness. The sound is almost sweet, caressing Art's fluffy, fuzzy brain and encouraging him to keep going.

"Left foot on green."

Patrick announces and Art feels your thighs squeeze tighter around his head as you reposition yourself. His whole head is buried in your lap, the tip of his nose rubbing little circles over your clit as he breathes in the moisture. Little beads of sweat glisten on his pink cheeks, the feel of your plush skin against his ears making him feel like he's drowning. Like he can't breathe.

"Mhm, Art," you moan above him, grinding your pelvis down to meet him halfway. By now, his lips are fully latched onto your cunt, suctioning it into his mouth and sucking and sucking and sucking.

Locked in the awkward position, his hands and feet somehow remain within the colourful circles, and so do yours. It's almost admirable how you manage to stay unmoving, only the subtle grind of your hips and nodding friction of Art's head happening.

The smug bastard Patrick is, he's enjoying the whole thing, the sight something so beautiful and downright pornographic. He's almost tempted to whip out his phone and record the two of you, because he's sure there's not a single video like this on the hub. That could be a hit!

But he's not that much of a bitch. So all he does it palm his dick and dost it through his pants, the sight of his best friend's angel curls drowning between your plush thighs being just enough to get him hard.

[sashi-ya]

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑺𝑾𝑬𝑹 「cuts of freedom: final part 」 soshiro hoshina x f! officer! reader

a/n: and the end is here! i'm not gonna lie, I wish for this story to last forever. And, actually, I might add some little updates about these two here and there sometimes! anyway, please enjoy! And thank you so so much for being here since the very beginning when this started as a simple scenario 💖 a/n 2: some clarification about the contents: "せーの!”  is the classical expression "seeh・noh" in Japanese used like "ready, set, go!". Tanabata, is a very well known festival in Asia celebrated during July- Aug. The Hoshina clan is real clan! I did my research, that's why I added the "Fukushima" patterns. tw: mdni! sex explicit scenes. masturbation. nipple bitting. marking. public car sex. wc: 3.5k // part 1: cuts of freedom // part 2: かんぱい！// part 3: stuffed // part 4: side B: relax // part 5: mirror, mirror... // part 6: sex for breakfast // masterlist

Eyebags puffy and visible, you haven’t really sleep much. Breakfast -and sex after breakfast- though, tasted delicious.

Should you both arrive together? Where are you, exactly, after all?

“Come on, did you bring the uniform?” Soshiro asks, putting on one of his classic black compressive shirts.

Your heart breaks, as the abs you adore get once again covered by that tight fabric. You are not mad, though.

“I haven’t- I just brought normal clothes…” you sigh, remembering the fact you left your boiler suit at the base.

“Then wear mine” he says, pretty naturally, handing you over one of his suits.

If there is something us women like, is to wear our couple’s clothing. And you aren’t any different. Instantly, you take -almost snatch- it from his hands. You are eager to see if it smells like him, you are eager to feel hug and warm by even his clothing.

And, indeed, it has a faint trace of his perfume. Manly and delicious, you engulf the smell, feeling your insides get filled with butterflies as you do.

“Should I take it off? Or wanna wear it around?” Soshiro asks, laughing cutely while coming closer to you. His delicate fingers graze the little enamel pin on your chest.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“Hoshina Soshiro ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 3rd Div. Vice Captain”

You smile softly, eyelashes fluttering slowly, looking down at his hand. Of course, you’d love to wear it around; because you are his… but you aren’t ready for “he say she says” although rumour already has it that you two have something going on.

“Do you think is it ok? Isn’t it against the rules?” “Indeed it is, doll. Give it back, haha!”

Your cheeks become hot from embarrassment. Of course it is against the rules. And sometimes with these type of little pranks, Soshiro can be a little bit annoying.

“Don’t be sad, I promise you I will search for my old badge, and I will give it to you. Ok?” he says, kissing the tip of your nose as he takes off the pin from your clothes.

You nod, sweetly. Like a little girl, you are instantly happy and satisfied with such a beautiful and cute promise.

Soshiro doesn’t pay much attention at anything besides you while walking out of his apartment. His hand is placed on your lower back, guiding you through the hall towards the elevator.

“You look so good with my clothes, hun” he whispers, closely to your ear right from behind.

A shiver runs down your spine and it travels to every little sensitive spot on your body.

“Thank you… Soshiro~” you answer, not sure if you wish the elevator to arrive faster or slower.

Unfortunately -or not- the doors of the lift open, and the sterile white lights of the mirrored inside receives you reflecting all of your angles.

You remember Soshiro complaining of the cameras inside the elevator, and as much as you wish he could push you against the walls to grope you, you know it is impossible. But nothing is when it comes to Hoshina Soshiro who is apparently crazier for your sex more than what you could think of.

He, then, proceeds to stand right at your back. It is him who’s against the bars attached to the mirror wall, now. His hands slowly slide from your waist to your front, getting into the front pockets of your boiler suit.

With his chin carved on your shoulder, he smirks to the mirror in front of you. His fingers reaching for your core, pushing quite strongly against it in tiny circular motions.

“I really want my suit to get covered by your scent… would you make a little mess for me?” he asks, pressing his crotch against your ass, showing you how hard he is once again.

You swallow; it wasn’t necessary to ask, if he keeps doing what he is doing you will for sure make a mess in it.

“So-Sosh-ngh…” you fidget around his index going crazy over your clit. “Mmh? Don’t be that noticeable… you know I don’t want the guards to see you! plus, the doors are about to open. What if a neighbour sees you?” he says, in such perverse tone it makes you tremble.

You bite your lips shut, taking a big gasp of air, wishing for his fingertips to finally touch you without anything in between. Your eyes shut closed, inevitably thinking of what he said; what if the doors open and someone sees you in such state?

The “ping” announces the doors are about to open, your heart rising faster, your inner thighs dripping with sensual wetness.

“せーの!”  he whispers. And as soon as a fine line of light filters through the sliding doors, he takes his hand off the pocket -and your sex-

You sigh loudly, putting yourself together in a matter of seconds.

“Morning, Soshiro-chan!” she says with a lovely tone, as if this happened every day.

“Morning, Mrs. Tanaka!” he salutes her, like a usual daily happening.

An old woman stands right in front of the elevator, with an as old as her poodle in her hands. The dog barks annoyingly at Soshiro and you, as it might have seen a cat… well, Soshiro kinda looks like one.

“Go kill many Kaiju, boy!” “I sure will, Mrs. Tanaka! Give Mr. Tanaka my regards!”

Apparently, that woman is Soshiro’s neighbour. Did he know she was going to be there by the time the elevator reached the floor level? He is more perverted than what you could have ever imagined…

You smile all throughout the mere seconds the conversation lasts, walking out of the mirrored lift trying to regulate your accelerated breathing.

The moment the doors close, he turns to you too look into your eyes. He burns holes into yours, with a smirk that shows he is not quite over with it.

“See? I told you…” “Soshiro, sometimes I think you are just a villain…”

He laughs, loudly, like he is used to do. From his pocket, he takes the keys of his car, and both walk to the little parking lot right behind the building.

He opens the door for you, putting first your little bag in the backseat and then letting you sit on the front. He then closes such door and jumps into the drivers seat.

And despite you thinking he was going to start the engine, he had first quite different plans...

“You said you thought I was a villain…” he mumbles, looking at you, coming closer to your lips with his index under your chin.

“You must be ~” you playfully back up.

He smirks and it’s all you need; next thing you know, is him pulling you from your seat to straddle your hips on top of his lap.

“Then, as the villain I am, allow me to finish my perfect crime…” he whispers, lowering the zipper of your -his- suit open.

You wonder if this man has a “public sex kink” or he actually just don’t care the rest of the world but you; Soshiro wants to have you at any time, in any place, whenever he desires.

His hand slides down your belly and into your panties. Wet as he wanted you is what he founds. And he is pleased.

Soshiro’s free hand pulls you closer as he pushes your lower back further. Your breasts, free of any other clothing, bounce temptingly in front of his face. It doesn’t take him much to finally attach to them with lips and teeth. Sucking like his life depended on  it, he makes you whine loudly from pleasure and pain… boy, those fangs are certainly sharp.

While he delights himself with the taste of your nipples, his thumb finishes the work he started in the elevator; masturbating you so good you soon forget about the weak morning light bathing the parking lot, or the fact Soshiro’s car windows have a barely purple tint on them.

Soon enough, your thighs accompany the spasms your inner walls experience. And climax hits you uncontrollably; the mess Soshiro wanted, had finally been materialized… his suit will hold the stains of your relief exactly as he wished.

“As long as I wish to fuck you hard, we are gonna get late there. I don’t want Mina to scold us” he says, helping you sit on your spot back again.

You are trembling still, only recognizing his voice, and the sweet way in which he closes the zipper and fasten the seatbelt to keep you safe.

You blink twice, still in awe. You look into the little mirror, seeing your heated cheeks and the mess of your hair that you slowly fix while he starts to drive. The pony tail you just finished, your hands still around the elastic band… the lustful idea of pleasuring him while he drives; after all you believe in equality, and just as he made you come… you must make him come, too.

You drift to the side, still without catching much of his attention. You bend slowly; waiting for a red light to make him stop. Your mouth is watering, and it is that Soshiro somehow tastes so delicious. Maybe it is his healthy life style, maybe is the testosterone of a modern samurai or it is just that you are infatuated with him.

“Wha- hahaha- what are you doing?!” he laughs, thinking you are just being funny. “I think I want my mouth to be a mess as well” you whisper, moving like a cat about to pounce on a little mouse.

His eyes now open widely; looking down as you lower the pants’ zipper.

“This is one of the things I love about you, (Name)-san… go ahead, feast on it” “It will be my pleasure, fuku-taichou” you sing, kissing the bulge before finally freeing his sex from his briefs.

You can feel on your chest the little ups and downs of his legs while he drives, and every bump pushes his dick inside you even deeper against your throat. Your tongue makes sure to damp the whole shaft, while your bobbing head and sucking lips make him grunt.

Soshiro’s hands grip tightly to the wheel; a little drop of sweat forms on his forehead. His sex becomes harder, ready to burst. The way you let his dick go deeper into your throat, allows the tip of your tongue to reach for the base and even more if you use your hand to play with his balls. The poor soldier is doing a great job while driving through the busy streets of Tachikawa, fast enough to park right at the base for the moment he reaches the peak…

“I’m gonna… come… you-“ “I won’t let a drop mess with your seat, don’t worry…” you whisper, giving him the last pumps this time with your hand and your tongue against his tip.

Soshiro retorts in silence, letting scattered “nghs” and “fucks” as he finally bursts. He grabs your pony tail, having the hair tangled on his fist, burying your head down so that he can finish right into your throat.

Eyes watery, lungs using the last molecule of oxygen, nose inhaling his skin’s perfume, your tongue feeling the accelerated pulse on his sex’s veins… oh, the delicious warm seed of Hoshina Soshiro going down your throat.

“You are gonna be the death of me, babe…”

The return to the base felt silent; both got out of Soshiro’s car, smiled at each other and parted ways. He needed to go back to his office, while you had to go straight to morning training. Your muscles were screaming at you; they didn’t want any more exercise this morning… but you simply couldn’t skip it.

The day went by fast and in between building strength and weapon management; by the time the afternoon arrived, the constant memory of Soshiro’s promise for tonight’s plans that reverberated in your brain, fade off to the point of almost forgetting about it.

However, there are certain things you couldn’t escape from, and you were about to find out.

By the time the training was over, and everybody was stretching, you began to win a couple of looks; your suit didn’t feel like yours and indeed it had a special pair of little straps on the back that you didn’t take in consideration when you chose not to change into yours…

“(Name), what is this?” Akari asks, passing her finger in between one of the hoops that’s clearly meant to be used to hold a certain type of blade.

“What?” you ask, still unaware.

“Oh, oh… don’t tell me you are a double blade user like Hoshina Fukutaichou, (Name)?! Platoon leader Nakanoshima says, laughing loudly with clear intentions of teasing you. She continues, also, telling Ryo he owes her money for winning “the bet”… “I told you they were screwing!”  “Nakanoshima -.-“

Your eyes open like two pair of eggs. Your cheeks turn to fire, the whole squad laughs and other start whispering… yet, none of those reactions were filled with bad intentions. In fact, it was quite the opposite, making even Mina give Kafka a soft little smile in complicity.

“No, no I- We aren’t… It is not what it seems like! We aren’t… uh…“ you try to excuse yourself, being aware that this could be detrimental to your relationship. You aren’t sure if Soshiro wants you like anything else than an “acquaintance”. This rumour could fuck everything up.   

“There are no rules against it, (Name)! don’t worry!” Kikoru smiles, assuring an essential truth; her parents were known to be one of the strongest couples inside of the JAKDF.

You give a sweet smile to your young but strong nakama; she doesn’t really need to know the details of how intricate adult relationships really are… yet.

The commotion gets instantly silenced by Mina ordering you all to go back to your stretching exercises. You all bow respect to your captain, and fast enough you all continue with your duties.

Soon, as the training finally finished, everybody start walking back at the barracks. You needed a bath, perhaps more than anyone else in that place… this morning “mess” was still unwashed.

None of the women said much as you walk to the bathrooms; everybody seemed more tired than ever. Probably, like you, they all had fun on that free day you were given yesterday.

It was not until you undressed that you noticed the marks all over your body; fangs that carved into your flesh have left a vast area of purple and painful spots all over that have been developing all throughout the day.

“There is no way I will make another scene. I must shower when everybody is done…” you think, suddenly remembering the day Soshiro cut open your anti kaiju suit; the day he saved your life, and the day both skins touched for the very first time in such intimate and deep way. This, lead you to remember, also, the so mentioned “plans for tonight”.

What were those plans? Were they still happening? What if he -and probably he already does- knows about today’s fuss on you wearing his uniform? He hasn’t reached out yet…

By the time you are out of the shower, you keep lost into your thoughts and memories of Soshiro’s sweet kitty face.

“(Name)? you lost your intercom again. Here…” A soft voice, calm and patient pulls you out your own thoughts and hands you over a little white earphone.

You blink twice, noticing captain Ashiro being as delicate as a flower while she gives you the ear piece. She simply takes his index to her ear and taps twice leading you to wear what she gave you.

You haven’t lost it, though. You simply didn’t wear it today; nobody was expected to do so, either way. But you understand, almost immediately, that you must follow your captain’s orders because something beautiful was waiting for you.

She turns around, fluttering her onyx hair while holding her towel on her shoulder, and disappears through the door to leave you alone.

You put the little intercom on; tapping twice on it.

“Hello?” “Hello, Miss (Name). Would you please come to my office?” Soshiro says, playfully acting like your vice-captain. “Yes, Sir!” you say, clearly and loud. However, your insides were turned into a holy mess; the butterflies felt like Kaiju flying around your stomach.

You run; you couldn’t hide it anymore. The halls of that base felt endless, why did it feel like Soshiro’s office had changed places with any other room?!

It took you a couple of minutes to get there. Panting, you wait for a couple of seconds to regulate your breathing. A single desktop lamp turned on guides you to his desk. However, Soshiro isn’t there, but a washi paper wrapped box waiting for you with a note on it.

“Dear (Name), please wear this and talk to me so that I can guide you to your next destination. Be aware the clothing and the hair pin you will find inside this box has a long history in the Hoshina family ~”

Your eyes get a little watery; you weren’t exactly sure on what to expect… but this is definitely something better than what you could ever. This seems truly romantic, and you are by far speechless.  

You open the box, taking care of not ruining the paper… you really wish to keep at least a piece of it. Inside it lays an even more beautiful piece of traditional clothing than the one you wore at his apartment; a yukata, purple with hints of lilac flowers, typical Fukushima Aizu patterns from where the Hoshina clan are the originally founders.

The hair piece, looks like two little representation of katanas imbued in sakura flowers of silver and purple little stones.

You cover your face in total awe; deep inside you still think you don’t deserve to wear such beautiful piece of art. But you end up doing it, Hoshina Fukutaichou said so, right?

The Japanese silk falls so delicate on your skin, kissing it softly with cold pecks on every mark he has left on you. You take a last look at your image on the little mirror he keeps on his office, still unable to process how beautiful you look, and double tap your intercom.

“You ready, princess?” he asks, curious.

“I am… Soshiro, this is… beautiful” you whisper, blushing harder with every word you mouth.

“Not as you, (Name). Now, please walk to the back of the base. There is a zen garden, you will find your next surprise there… and the answer you’ve been waiting for”

“Yes, Soshiro ~”

Walk? He said walk? who could walk?

Run, run, run. Your hair set free, only holding by a single strand to silver blades,   dances with the wind your own speed creates. Run, run, run. Through the halls of the base that’s been your home, your dream and your begin and end….

Fairy lights look like blurry dots, like fireflies, by the end of the hall; you run to catch them all. To see him, to hear an answer your heart already knows.

“Soshiro!” you whisper, when you stop all of a sudden, noticing how beautiful the Zen garden had been decorated. Warm lights, and every branch of the bamboo holding little multi-coloured papers… have you forgotten? It’s the night of Tanabata.

Your lips tremble, your eyes become watery once again; never experienced something more beautiful, even more because it was prepared for you… and only for you.

“Welcome ~” he sings, lifting his two hands and indexes up. “You look, and I know I told you this before, so beautiful wearing my family’s clothing… Please tell me you are the type of person who loves Tanabata” he continues, a little insecure now.

You wipe a little tear off the corner of your eye; anything you could love or even hate means nothing compared to him… you are the type of person who loves… him.

“This is… more than beautiful… why? I don’t deser-“ you start, but his hands grabbing yours stop you from keep on talking.

“You do deserve it; shall we write our desires in the little papers? Let’s go, I’m sure the Hanabi are about to start ~”

You nod, following him to a little table where two little papers lay on top, and each one has a pen to write on. Soshiro allows you to write yours, and then he does with his, not before asking you to wait until you read.

When both are ready, he guides you with your little paper towards one of the trees. Such tree, the tallest of them all, seemed to be fading into the night sky. Stars shining like diamond dots, like the river that separated Orihime and Hikoboshi but not you two.

“Let me tie yours, and you tie mine” he whispers, while both exchange your desires. As you grab his, you proceed to read...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“I wish to be yours, (Name)”

“Soshiro… is this…?” “That’s my answer, (Name)… I really, really wish to be yours. Can you cut open this jail and set me free from this doubts? Am I yours? You are the one to tell me so” “Read mine, and you will find the answer Soshiro…”

ㅤㅤ“For him, the man who set me free with cuts of love, to be mine forever”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ… ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫 ~

dear reader: thank you for reading! hope you liked this story as much as I enjoyed writing it! hope all your dreams come true! 💕 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ Sashi 🌱

[heavenlyvision]

Distracted

Pairing: Simon Riley (Ghost) x afab!reader

Wc: 1.3k

Not my usual content, I'm gonna apologise for this but I'm really not sorry.... so... sorry </3 Please don’t stone me, I just want to fuck the big, masked man :<

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, established relationship, vaginal fingering, p in v penetration, cockwarming, no use of pronouns or y/n, i think that's all !!!

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Simon coming home was always something you looked forward to, the days following where you get to spend time together in domestic bliss are memories you treasure when he inevitably has to leave again. It’s a cycle; one you have both gotten used to and never fully adjust to. For example, entering the kitchen and seeing him there makes your heart race with excitement and happiness to see him but also slight shock from forgetting someone else lives with you. Having him home is always better though, you wouldn’t trade these days for the world.

This time round, you had finally gotten him to cave into your will and watch one of your favourite movies with you. One you had seen so often that you could recite back monologues from it in your sleep. Normally, your eyes would be glued to the screen, ecstatic and waiting for each of your favourite scenes to play but you also wanted to watch Simon’s reactions to them.

This has created an unforeseen issue though because your boyfriend is so… distracting. He’s not doing anything, not anything outwardly but he’s in his casual clothes, legs spread wide on the couch and carefully watching the screen, seemingly intrigued by what you’ve put on.

Your head is clouded by thoughts of him, he’s been home for a few days now and you’ve still not been intimate. Too content to be in each other’s presence to have sex but you’re feeling it now. The need that claws up your spine, his absence always has you craving him but you usually calm down when he’s home and you can hug him, touch him.

Even though you’ve been together for a couple years now, you still hesitate to reach out to him, too afraid to upset him or do something wrong – you never have and he’s always been reciprocal to your touch but you still worry. Plus, he genuinely looks invested in the movie and you don’t want to start something when he’s having a nice time. That doesn’t stop you from subtly watching him or slightly rubbing your thighs together though, your need for him slowly overwhelming you the longer you take glances at him.

Simon sighs beside you, he doesn’t look at you as he asks, “What’s wrong, what are you fidgeting for?”

His deep voice shoots straight through you, your thighs clench together, “Nothing, sorry.”

He looks to you out the corner of his eye, his gaze runs over you for a moment, taking you in, observing your body language. He catches on fairly quickly, always knowing how you’re feeling just from a glance, “Come here.” His hand pats his lap.

You shuffle closer but hesitate to get on him, when you don’t immediately sit on his lap, his hands grab you and position you so you’re straddling him. His large hands skate up and down your thighs, caressing your skin.

They move higher, pushing the hem of your shirt up, revealing your lack of shorts. He doesn’t say anything but he smiles smugly and raises his eyebrow at you slightly.

You go to defend yourself, “I’m more comfortable like this.”

“I said nothing,” his hands move back down your thighs again, pulling at your skin as he goes.

You squirm against him, “I know what you were thinking.”

He breathes out an airy chuckle, “I’m certain you didn’t, love.” His fingers tickle against your inner thighs, trailing higher.

You sigh at his touch, “I missed you…”

“Mmm, I can tell,” he comments as his thumb presses into the wet spot on your panties.

A light gasp pulls from you at his touch, your hips stuttering slightly, seeking the friction.

He continues talking, his thumb putting minimal contact on your clit, “I was getting real into the movie, you know?” He says that but his eyes are glued to his hand playing with you through your panties.

You feel bashful, “Sorry…” He pulls his hand away and you want to complain but you feel bad for ruining the movie for him.

“Don’t need you to be sorry,” his tone is gruff, his hand reaches under his waist band and pulls his hard cock out, “Need you to sit on me.” He groans as his hand starts to stroke himself, his cock painfully erect, tip leaking profusely.

“Si–”

“–Lovie, need you to wrap your pretty cunt around me,” His eyes are dazed, not really focused on anything right now, too caught up thinking about your slick heat swallowing him.

You shuffle closer to him and sit up on your knees, his fingers push your panties to the side. He lets out a low groan as he runs his fingers through your wetness, they slip over your pussy, he’s distracted now, eyes intently watching your cunt and how you react to him. His finger slips into you with some resistance, the stretch eased by how slick you are for him.

You almost buckle over; your hands reach out to his shoulders to hold yourself up. He tries to supress it but you can see the smallest hints of a smirk on his lips, he looks to you, “Gone too long, was I?” It’s not really a question, especially since he’s not done talking, “Fuck– you’re so goddamn tight, Mm gonna have to fuck you open…” He trails off, not because he’s done talking but because he’s fucking his finger into you and has gotten distracted again.

The wet noises that your cunt makes for him is obscene, it has you shying away from him and wanting to hide but his hand speeds up, wanting to hear more. You’re whimpering quietly, trying to hold in the noises he’s pulling from you effortlessly.

You gasp out to him, trying to convey your desire, “I need –ah–”

He hums at you, “Mmm, I know…”

His finger pulls from you and you can’t help the pathetic whine the loss has you making, he doesn’t even try to hide his smile this time, shamelessly grinning at your need. You pout at him but that just seems to further his enjoyment.

“Go on, lovie, take what you need,” His hands hold onto your hips, letting you take your time.

You take him in your hand and his chest stutters slightly, your pussy hovers over him. You’re nervous to take him, it’s been a while since you last had him and it’s always a little daunting to take him fully after he’s come back. He’s being ever so patient though, his fingers dig into your hips but he doesn’t move you, he continues to let you do this at your own pace. 

You notch his tip at your pussy hole, your stomach flutters with anticipation, slowly you start to take him. It’s slow and it takes you a bit to take his tip, Simon is groaning under you, his fingers digging into your flesh, barely holding onto sanity.

“You need to relax,” his voice is strained, his thumb moves to your clit, rubbing circles into it, trying to help you take him easier.

You sigh on him, your pussy sinking down further, he chokes slightly at the feeling of your tight, hot cunt taking more of him. His head falls to the back of the couch, the way you continue to take him as him seeing stars, the last time he got off being too long ago.

You moan his name quietly when you take all of him, his pelvis pressed to your clit, you grind down into him, his hands facilitate you. Groans get stuck in his throat, his mind swimming with thoughts about you and how tight you are.

Suddenly, he stops your movements, hands holding you completely still on him, he looks you in the eye, “You’re gonna sit here and keep my cock warm while I finish this movie you love so much.”

You whine at him, “Wait, what?”

“Should’ve waited till it was finished, love,” he smirks at you but he’s one hundred percent serious.

He’s going to have you crying on his dick before the film is over, you just know it.

𖦹₊⊹

Thank you for reading :3 i hope you enjoyed (if you're one my mk followers, please be nice to me, I LIKE THE BIG MASKED MAN, SUE ME)

[mattslolita]

come thru - m. sturniolo

warnings ; fingering , oral ( female receiving ) , slight!dom!matt

"you make wanna come thru, quarter after two, just to put it down on you."

you invited your best friends over for a movie night, like you had done since you guys had been friends since you were all younger — it was a tradition amongst you all, every weekend you guys rotated between yours and the triplets house.

right now, they had just arrived at your house, and you already laid out all the movie options for them. chris immediately made a beeline for your fridge, causing you to shake your head and roll your eyes.

"chris, you realize i'd like to actually have a pepsi for myself for once, right?" you said, turning to follow the boy into the kitchen. "you always raid them all."

"yet you keep buying them for me," chris grinned, and you leaned over the counter and shook your head at him.

you were just in an over sized ransom tee that belonged to matt and some short shorts underneath — it was quite common that you wore these types of clothes around them, so it wasn't unusual. though you had to admit, wearing a borrowed shirt from matt was making you hope he would notice.

you were definitely good at hiding it, but the feelings you've had for matt were growing even more by the day — the way he'd playfully flirt with you sometimes of course was making matters worse, and you wondered if there was a chance matt might have felt the same way as you.

now with all the snacks in tow, everyone went to their designated spots in the living room — chris was in the chair closest to the tv, whilst nick took the loveseat and decided on spreading out all over it. you and matt took the sofa, and he placed his arm behind the chair.

you could feel your cheeks get warm at the action even though he was always doing stuff like this. you tried to play it off by letting a small sigh escape your lips, and bringing your sprite can up to your lips to take a sip.

matt noticed the sigh and turned to you with a raised eyebrow. "you good?" he whispered in your ear as he leaned over.

your breath hitched and you clenched your legs together, giving him a tight-lipped smile. "i'm alright."

thankfully the movie had already started, and you found yourself more interested in it. but as the movie went on, you couldn't help but subtly look over at matt from time to time — his blue eyes were focused on the movie unlike yours currently, and you swore you were about to go crazy at the way one corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk when a funny scene came on.

your eyes then roved over his tattooed arm all the way down to his ring clad hands, finding yourself wondering how good they would feel inside you.

and that's where you drew the line.

you stood up quickly, already feeling yourself become hot and bothered, causing all three of the triplets to look up at you in confusion.

"the movie's not even done yet," nick commented, and you shot him a weary smile.

"yeah i know, i'm just...not feeling too good," you lied.

"what's wrong?" matt asked with furrowed eyebrows, and you waved him off.

"oh it's nothing, i'm just kinda tired," you lied again, "i'm just gonna go up to my room and lay down for a bit."

"you want me to come up there with you?" matt asked, beginning to stand up.

"no!" you answered quickly with wide eyes, causing his eyebrows to furrow, "sorry...i'm good, though. y'all finish the movie and just clean up when you're done. you can crash here for the night if you don't feel like driving back home, matt."

chris just shrugged and stuffed his face with some chips whilst nick nodded sympathetically and blew you a friendly good night kiss — matt watched you as you walked upstairs quickly, before he turned his attention back to the movie playing.

once you got into your room, the first thing you did was close your door and let out a big sigh, then you went to dim your lights and turn on some music — the triplets already knew you went to sleep with music for the most part, but sleep wasn't exactly what you needed the music for.

you sat back on your bed as you pulled your shorts off of yourself and slowly ran a hand over your lace underwear, feeling the slight wetness. throwing your head back, you closed your eyes and thought of matt, causing a small moan to slip from your lips.

"fuck..." you sighed, picturing matt as you rubbed circles around your clit, biting your lip to suppress a moan.

you completely ditched your underwear as you continued rubbing circles around your clit, imagining matt's voice in your ear telling you how good of a girl you were being for him.

a slightly louder moan escaped your mouth but you were too caught up in the feeling to care. "fuck, matt..."

"woah."

the sound of matt's voice caused you to gasp loudly as he stood there with his jaw slightly dropped, looking at you in shock and — amusement?

your cheeks burned as you found yourself wanting to fall off the face of the earth. "um...how much of that did you witness?"

"enough, actually," matt said, a slight smirk appearing on his features as he walked into your room and closed the door behind him. "so i'm who you think about when you touch yourself, y/n?"

now your cheeks burned even more as matt watched you with an amused expression, and you found yourself unable to form words. embarrassment filled your body at what just happened. "this is so embarrassing, what the fuck."

you hung your head as you felt the bed dip in front of you — matt lifted your chin with his index finger, prompting you to look up at him. "don't be embarrassed, sweetheart. all you had to do was ask for some help."

a low gasp was about to escape your lips before matt crashed his onto yours, silencing whatever sound was to come out of your mouth next — your tongues battled for dominance but you let matt do all the exploring in your mouth.

as he continued kissing you his tattooed arm went down to race circles on your thighs, causing a small whimper to escape your lips. a smirk resided on matt's features against your lips.

he began tracing circles near your inner thighs, causing you to whimper again at the way he was teasing you — his ring clad hand finally found its way in between your thighs, as he rubbed your folds back and forth.

"matt, please," you begged, "please touch me."

"what's that, baby?" matt whispered in your ear, running a hand ever so teasingly over your folds, "you want me to touch you?"

unable to form words at how crazy he was driving you, you just nodded with a little whimper — without warning, matt shoved one of his ringed fingers inside you, causing you to let out a loud whine.

"oh matt..." you moaned out, as he repeatedly pumped his finger in and out of you, "fuck..."

"look at you, fucking my finger like the needy slut you are," matt whispered into your ear, placing a kiss on your neck, "you like it when i touch you like this, don't you?"

"fuck, i really do matt," you whined, as he added another ringed finger inside of you just then.

the pace of his fingers sped up inside you, repeatedly hitting your g spot as you arched your back to give him more access — moans and whimpers repeatedly escaped your mouth as matt continued working his magic inside you, then you felt that familiar feeling in your stomach.

"matt, i'm close," you whimpered out, as he still left kisses along your neck, "i'm gonna cum."

matt stopped with his fingers inside you and took them out, causing you to look at him with furrowed eyebrows — with a grin he licked your arousal off of his fingers causing you to bite your lip as he spread your thighs and pushed your stomach back.

"i want you to cum all over me, sweetheart."

you felt your pussy pulsate at the way matt looked at you hungrily, as he peppered kisses along your thighs — he left small kisses on your folds causing you to whine out. "matt, don't tease me..."

he smirked up at you then shoved his tongue inside you, nipping and sucking on your clit. you moaned out at the feeling, arching your hips upward as he maintained eye contact with you while lapping up your pussy.

"fuck y/n, you taste so fucking good," matt groaned as he came up momentarily, his lips covered in your juices.

your hand went down to tug at his hair as he continued eating you out, and you felt the feeling in your stomach yet again. "oh my gosh, matt i'm gonna..."

"give it to me, baby," matt breathed, "cum all over me."

you released all over matt's face, a plethora of moans and a string of curses leaving your lips as your grip on his hair tightened slightly — matt lapped up all your juices, coming up from between your legs and grinning down at you, his face coated in your arousal.

"you have no idea how bad i've wanted to do that," matt breathed out, as he fell down on your bed beside you.

you had finally caught your breath from the mind blowing orgasm and upon realizing what he just said, your cheeks heated. "you should've been done that."

matt turned to the side and smirked at you. "so does that mean you'll let me more often?"

"if it's gonna feel that good every time, then hell yeah," you giggled, "let's just hope nick and chris don't freak out."

( i hope you enjoyed this my loves, sorry for not posting the past two days ! i love you all, muah💌 )

[apomaro-mellow]

Every Baby Needs a Daddy 6

Part 5

Come for the sugar daddy fantasy stay for my everybody-loves-steve agenda

Eddie insisted on helping Steve with his suit the night of the soiree. Steve allowed him into his apartment for the first time, after some extensive cleaning. Eddie was already dressed in his suit, red, no shirt underneath. He took the garment bag from Eddie, kissed his lips, and then went to his bedroom. Eddie got a glimpse of his nest before the door was shut.

"Uhh? Baby?"

"No peeking", Steve said from behind the door.

"Babyyyy", Eddie whined, pressing his face to the wood.

Steve grinned to himself as he listened, getting dressed on his own anyway. "I don't want to be late. And if I let you 'help' that's exactly what will happen."

It wasn't just what Eddie would do. It was what Steve would let him get away with. It would be very easy to let Eddie in and then tumble in his nest. The thought of letting Eddie's scent mix in... Steve wondered if he could get away with sneaking a piece of his clothing away. But Eddie had promised him a fun night out and said he'd be meeting his bandmates as well.

He finished getting dressed and came out. Eddie stumbled, being nearly glued to the door. Steve almost made a joke about falling for him.

"You gonna be this attached to me all night?", he asked instead.

Eddie righted himself and stood up straight. "If I let you out of my sight, the wolves will descend on you Lil Red."

Steve put his hands on Eddie's chest and leaned in. "Good thing I've got a big, strong woodsman to keep me safe~"

Since it was a band event, Eddie had a personal driver this time. That meant he could sit in the backseat and play with Steve the whole way. Eddie's hand was firm on Steve's thigh while the other held his hip. He'd wanted to bury them in Steve's tresses but one firm tap and reprimand 'don't touch the hair' and here they were.

Eddie was nibbling on Steve's neck, wishing he could put something more permanent on him. Let others know who he belonged to. When they arrived, Steve took a moment to get himself together. Eddie thought he looked just as radiant now as he did with sex-tousled hair but he liked seeing his baby primp too.

Eddie led him, arm in arm, into a nightclub. The music was energetic but didn't really seem to fit with Eddie's usual metal scene. Steve had done some research on the band, listened to a few songs, learned the other members names too. So even through the blaring music, he was able to understand when Eddie brought them over to a reserved table where the rest of them awaited.

"So this is the guy?", Jeff asked.

"This must be the guy", Gareth nodded.

"Can't be anyone else but the guy", Grant raised his glass to Steve.

Steve smiled at Eddie. "You've been telling them about me?"

"You're a secret I don't wanna keep, babydoll", Eddie smiled back.

"DJ here is mixing a set around one of our albums", Jeff said. "Kind of a little promotion for us. And when we share the video, he'll get a bump too."

"I thought this was a little out of the box for your sound", Steve said.

"You listen to our music?", Eddie asked.

Steve shrugged, playing it off. "I've dabbled." He leaned into Eddie's space to take a sip from the drink in his hand. "What about you? Do you dabble in this?"

"Not quite my scene, no. I'm an appreciator of most genres though."

"Can we finally break the silence on Eddie's jazz phase?", Gareth said.

"What's wrong with jazz?", Steve asked.

"Music was fine", Grant clarified, "He just got super pretentious about the different subgenres."

"He was insufferable", Gareth added.

"What about you guys, then?", Steve pointed the question to them. "Are you into this kind of music?"

"It's something to dance to", Jeff replied.

"That's exactly what I wanted to hear. Care to dance?", Steve asked.

Jeff gave a look to Eddie, asking permission. Amused, Steve also looked to Eddie for his response. Eddie's arm had been wrapped rather possessively around him for most of the night, so he could feel how antsy Steve was getting. Eddie gave his hip a pat.

"Go have fun."

Steve kissed his cheek and then went down to the dance floor with Jeff. He loved to move and he'd been itching to dance all night, but Eddie didn't seem like a dancer, at least not to this kind of music. And he wasn't about to just go out and dance with someone random in the club. Jeff was the perfect partner, knowing when to be close and when to give him space.

He felt a finger tap his shoulder and when he turned, Grant was there. Following the beat of the music, Steve gave him his attention. He was able to catch Eddie's eyes just once and saw the hunger in his eyes. When Gareth came to dance, he was a little more hesitant to touch Steve until Steve himself pulled Gareth's hands to him.

The way they all touched him was polite but there was an underlying desire. They were showing appreciation, but they weren't going to challenge the pseudo-claim Eddie had on him. He caught Eddie's gaze again and it was darker this time. He began to walk off the dance floor, ignoring a few calls from voices he didn't recognize.

Steve returned to Eddie and straddled his lap. "Sure I can't tempt you to dance?"

"There's not a thing you can't tempt me into, sweetheart. But you'll have to give me something dance-able. Liked seein' you have fun though. My boys take care of you?"

"Mhm, they were very gentlemanly." Steve's hand dipped under Eddie's suit jacket, needing skin to skin contact.

"Music to my ears", Eddie said against Steve's lips before meeting them. He growled against his mouth as he was able to detect the scents of his friends on him. Steve was pack. Steve was his.

Eddie practically dragged him out of the club and back into the car. The door was barely closed before Steve was in his lap again. He was writhing, probably very close to ruining the nice suit pants.

"Come with me", Eddie breathed.

"Yes, Daddy", Steve moaned into his ear.

"No I mean, on tour. Come with me on tour baby."

Steve paused in his humping to look in Eddie's eyes. "You want me along for the ride?"

Eddie nodded, eyes wide and big as if there was ever a chance that Steve would say no. But he also couldn't just say yes.

"For how long?"

Eddie licked his lips. "Two months."

"My job..."

"I'll take care of anything you need", Eddie said quickly.

"My apartment-"

"I'll handle it, baby. Just please say you'll come."

Steve's head tilted to the side. Robin's words echoed in his head. Wasn't this the scenario he'd been running from? An alpha having control over his life? If for even a moment, Eddie changed his mind about him, he'd be out a job and a home. Steve looked back down at him and that was his undoing.

"I'll need a new suitcase, and wardrobe, and-"

"Done, done, and whatever else you can think of, it's done." Eddie kissed him in elation, much sweeter than anything else they'd done all night.

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

Steve at least tried to sell the whole 'can I bounce for two months and come back later' at his job but obviously that didn't fly. It was fine. It wasn't really the work or even the miniscule paycheck he was attached to. It was simply the comfort of doing the same thing in the same place every day. He could fill out applications on the road and get the same job anywhere.

True to his word, Eddie took him out shopping just a couple of days later.

"I meant to tell you", Eddie said as they walked through the mall. He was dressed very casually in jeans and a t-shirt under a vest with the band's logo on the back. His hair was pulled back in a ponytail and he kept his shades on inside. "That lunch meeting with sushi? Went pretty good. Your advice worked."

"You sound surprised", Steve teased. He was wearing a green sweater and light jeans.

"Not surprised, beautiful. Just in awe." Eddie put an arm around him as he led him into the first store.

Just like at the tailor's Eddie let Steve loose, letting him pick and choose what he wanted. After the third store, Steve was looking at him hesitantly.

"You're really going to spoil me. Going to turn me into a brat and anything."

"What? You? My sweet angel babydoll? Never", Eddie smirked. "You're acting like no one's ever lavished you like this."

Steve shrugged. "Well, not like this but-", then he thought better of it. "Never mind."

"I don't think so, baby. I think I deserve at least one story of past-Steve. You got to google search my life story."

"How do you know I didn't ask Jeeves?"

Eddie put a hand to his heart, then took his hat off like a sign of respect. "RIP to a real one. But you're not gonna distract me, Stevie. I feel like you've been keeping something from me. Not something big, just something you don't think I should know."

Breaking his gaze from Eddie's, Steve spied a restaurant inside the mall. "Let's eat."

Eddie had them get a booth in the back, figuring Steve would want some modicum of privacy for this. He wasn't expecting a bombshell, but he figured it must mean something to Steve.

"So, when you met me, you probably thought I was this... downtrodden, poor omega with nowhere to go." That rainy night seemed so long ago.

"That's not what I thought at all", Eddie said with a shake of his head. "Honestly thought you were waiting for someone. Made no sense to me that you were all alone."

Steve smiled. "Well, I wasn't always alone. Not physically, at least. My parents are Layton and Margaret Harrington. They've got a hand in a lot of things but most of our money comes from apple orchards of all things."

"So you're the heir to a vast apple fortune", Eddie surmised.

"Was the heir to a vast fortune."

"Is there a story behind that?", Eddie asked, watching Steve pick at his food.

"Not an original one", Steve said with a chuckle. "They paraded the alpha sons of their associates. I was also paraded. I was offered a life where all I had to do was look nice and speak little and eventually bring up the next generation of whatever old money family my parents chose for me... It was suffocating."

Eddie's leg stuck out from under the table and rubbed against his. "You got your own place. And your own job. You got out. Why would you keep this from me though? Doesn't sound particularly scandalous."

"I don't know", Steve shook his head. "Maybe I didn't want you to think I was a gold digger, or maybe I didn't want you to think I had super high expectations, or-it just felt like I shouldn't tell you. I'm tired of carrying my parents around."

"They're really that loaded?"

"Didn't you hear me say 'old money'?"

"Is there some scorned ex-fiance I should be worried about?"

"Hmmmnope."

"You sure about that, sweetness?"

"I'm sure. None of them are looking for me. And none of them hold a candle to you."

Eddie could understand wanting to leave the past in the past. After eating, they continued their shopping spree. Eddie paused at a costume shop that showed a few of the outfits on mannequins in the window. Steve followed his line of sight and grinned.

"Gimme your card."

"Sure, what for?", Eddie asked as he handed it over to Steve.

"For a surprise. Go get a pretzel. I'll text you when I'm ready." He kissed Eddie's cheek and then went into the costume shop.

Whipped like cream, Eddie did in fact go get a pretzel, fantasizing about all the little outfits Steve could be buying right now. When they met up, he wasn't allowed to peek. So while he knew there must be a costume of some kind in Steve's wardrobe now, he was oblivious to the lingerie he'd bought as well.

Part 7

@awkotaco24 @lingeringmirth @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @tartarusknight @velocitytimes2 @mrsjellymunson @trashcanniballecter @paintsplatteredandimperfect @a-little-unsteddie  @sllooney  @starman-jpg  @oxidantdreamboat  @xxbottlecapx  @chaosgremlinmunson @newtstabber @tiny-enthusiast  @desidrarry-wolfstarshipper @y4r3luv @hello-fellow-nerds  @anonymousbandgirl @alyelf @potato-of-the-lord  @beckkthewreck @greatwerewolfbeliever @croatoan-like-its-hot @pluto-pepsi @abstractnaturaldisaster @ellietheasexylibrarian @eyesofshinigami @dragonmama76 @marklee-blackmore

[jjongslutz]

— plumber!jake x (kinda)perv!reader mdni.

plumber!jake (tiktok link) who comes over to check up on the new shower you had installed. compared to the last mechanic that came over, who was much older, jake isn't what you expected at all. he's actually.... really attractive.

the way he carries himself while checking every inch of the bathroom, making sure everything is right in place. you insist on staying by him with the excuse of "wanting to learn along" but it's really to stare at his arms flexing as they twist a knob to test the water pressure, or push against the wall to measure its sturdiness.

"i'll just try out the shower head, and then i'll be on my way." you frown at his words. is he really leaving so soon?

luckily for you, he miscalculates and ends up spraying himself entirely. "shit!" he exclaims.

"oh no," you say with faux-concern. "do you want an extra shirt? i'm sure my roommate wouldn't mind if you borrowed his."

jake wipes his face. "are you sure?"

you smile sweetly. "of course."

you rush to jay's room hoping he won't notice one of his shirts missing. he's always buying new ones anyway, he probably won't be bothered if he even realizes it at all. when you come back to the bathroom, you toss him the shirt and pretend to back away to give him some space.

meanwhile, you're only flushed against the wall, staring back at him through the mirror which gives you the best view. god his abs. he must workout even outside of his job.

your hand trails down your stomach naturally, your eyes glued on the scene unfolding in front of you. jake flicks the shirt a couple times before pulling it over his head, but you don't mind the delay — it's what you're here for. watching the way his muscles flex as he pulls the material up and over makes your cunt grow warmer, so you rub delicate circle over your clothed core to soothe it.

"what are you doing?" his voice snaps you out of your daze.

"i'm– uh, i'm—"

"were you watching me get changed?"

yes! "no! i wasn't!"

jake raises a brow at you, unconvinced. "you know," he says with an unrecognizable tone, but it makes your insides twitch. "if you wanted to see me shirtless, you could've just said so." his teasing isn't over as he chuckles at the sight of you. he can clearly tell it's so much more than just seeing him without his shirt.

you squeeze your legs together, completely giving yourself away.

that's his call to step forward, grab the back of your head, and smash your lips together. his tongue runs over your bottom lip, so you open your mouth to welcome it inside.

you moan in harmony into the kiss, panting against each other while your hands messily grab on each other's clothes. you grab the hem of the shirt he just put on and pull apart from him just to rip it off of him. he does the same with your blouse.

"fuck, you're beautiful," jake whispers, his eyes respectfully focused on your bare breasts. opting out of wearing a bra was a good idea. jake's hands go to squeeze them, using his hold as leverage to flip you around before guiding you to position you against the counter, facing yourself in the mirror.

drool drips from your lips, your cheeks are flushed and sweat soaks your forehead. heat danced beneath the skin of your waistline as jake's hands make their way to pull down your pants and panties.

you wiggle your hips in anticipation and he chuckles at them. it works to make him move faster, though, because the next thing you hear is his belt unbuckling.

instinctively, you turn your head to look at him pulling out his hardened cock. jake's hand interrupts you admiring him as it forces your gaze to meet his.

"since you love to stare—" jake roughly grips onto your hair, pulling your head up so you can make proper eye contact with your reflection. "—you're gonna be a good girl and watch yourself while i make you feel good. got it?"

you nod impatiently, ready to bend at his will just to feel him inside of you.

after everything, you're just hoping your shower breaks down again. any excuse to see him (his dick) again.

[misc-obeyme]

Okay, it's Mammon's turn.

I am trying to be more confident in my smut posting, so I'm just gonna say that I wanted to write some more demon form smut. I have some headcanons about how Mammon is when having sex that have likely found their way into this, so you know. There's that.

Thank you to those who commented on the one I did of Lucifer in demon form letting me know that I am a tier one monster fucker lol. That has cleared some things up for me.

I don't know if I'm gonna do a scene like this for all the characters... maybe? But I'll at least do one more 'cause I need to do someone with a tail. Though I could be persuaded to do more if people are interested.

Mammon x GN!MC - NSFW MDNI

Note: MC's genitals are not described, once again I tried to keep it gender neutral. Established relationship.

Warnings: demon form (obviously), oral sex and penetrative sex (reader receiving in both cases)

You were sitting on Mammon's lap, his face in your hands as you kissed him. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the table in your room, one hand on your waist, the other on your thigh, head tilted back.

You pulled away, breathless and he opened his eyes halfway to look at you.

You let one of your hands move up into his hair before using the other one to take off his sunglasses, carefully setting them aside.

Mammon's eyes opened wider at this action, the bright blue and gold nearly shining with obvious desire. You smiled at the sight and kissed him again, your fingers clenching in his hair.

You felt the demon becoming more needy, his kiss becoming more heated, his hands suddenly roaming all over you. His lips descended to your neck and you couldn't hold back a small moan.

And then you let out a gasp as he stood up, lifting you onto the table as he stood between your legs. You grasped his arms, frustrated at the amount of fabric that was still between you. You pushed his jacket off of his shoulders and it fell on the chair he had just vacated.

Mammon responded by tugging at the hem of your shirt and he broke away from you just long enough to remove it.

It wasn't long before both of your clothes were in a little scattered pile on the floor around the table. Mammon was trailing hot kisses down your belly, your hands in his hair, his hands on your hips.

You were throbbing with need, but you could be patient as he took his time with you, making his way down your torso.

Mammon paused just beneath your belly button and looked up at you with a cheeky grin.

You looked down at him, your mouth open, panting slightly, and you thought just how nice it would be if you could yank him by the horns in that moment. But he wasn't in demon form. Not yet.

"Mammon," you said.

Mammon's grin softened only a little. "Somethin' ya want, darlin'?"

You ran your hands through his hair where his horns should be and blushed at the request you were about to make. "Could you… maybe… you know…"

For some reason, you couldn't bring yourself to ask, so you made grabby hands over his head.

Mammon seemed completely baffled by this for a few minutes, looking up at you and the motion you were making. And then it clicked.

The way he smirked when he realized what you wanted made you blush even more.

Mammon shifted into demon form. "Is this what ya want?"

You didn't bother to respond, only grabbed the curled horns that were now within your reach and used them to yank his face closer to your body.

He laughed against the hot skin between your legs before kissing the inside of your thigh. "Impatient, are ya? 'Course ya want the Great Mammon so much ya can't handle it."

"Mammon," you said, a warning in your voice.

But Mammon only laughed again before putting his entire mouth on you, his hands on your thighs, and making you moan as he used his tongue in ways you didn't know were possible.

You held onto his horns, your fingers slotted perfectly between the sharp twists in them. You were careful not to pull too much as you didn't want to move him away from you or hurt him by tugging too hard.

Mammon seemed to be fully engaged in eliciting sounds from you, though. Every time he pulled away just a bit, you whined. Every time he licked, you sighed. And if he sucked, you moaned loudly.

You were so close, feeling so good, when he stopped all together and stood up, moving in close to press his face against your neck.

You were about to protest when you noticed his wings had also wrapped around you. The way the leathery skin felt against your bare flesh was a sensation you hadn't been expecting. It was soft and supple, but so different from the rest of his skin. You reached out, running a hand along the edge of the wing to your right.

Mammon jerked back a little to look at you with wide eyes, as though he hadn't been expecting you to touch him that way.

You took advantage of the space that was now between you to run your fingers along the white markings on his chest.

Mammon sucked in a breath. You saw the way he blushed, how he closed his eyes, how he was almost gritting his teeth.

"You're more sensitive in demon form, aren't you?" you asked, your voice hushed.

Mammon blushed even more. "What? Nah, it's just different-"

"It's okay," you said. "You don't need to pretend with me."

You didn't wait for him to respond to this, just scooted forward a little bit so you could kiss the white marking at the base of his throat.

"Ah, MC!" Mammon actually cried out, his hands grasping your arms, fingernails digging into your skin.

You couldn't believe he was having such an intense reaction. Just a minute ago you were manhandling him by his horns and he only laughed. Now you were kissing his markings and touching his wings and he was practically falling apart already.

You pulled him closer to you so you could kiss along each white line on his chest. He was leaning against the table, clearly having a hard time staying standing. You ran your hand along one of his wings, pulling the tip of it toward you so you could press a kiss there.

Mammon nearly lost his mind, you could see how much he was trying to hold himself back. His erection was evident before you, dripping with precum, his body quivering with need. He had a hand on either side of you, leaning against the table for support. "M-MC… please…"

You reached up to run a finger along the curves of one of his horns. "You're so beautiful," you said softly.

Mammon's blush was already so intense, you weren't sure how it managed to get worse. He couldn't look at you, his eyes squeezed shut, but he couldn't pull away, leaning into your touch as you caressed his horns and his wings.

Seeing his reaction made you want him even more. You scooted to the very edge of the table and pulled him close to you. It turned out the table was the perfect height and you wouldn't even need to reposition yourself.

"You don't have to hold back so much," you said in his ear. "Mammon… I want you…"

Mammon's wings were practically vibrating around you as he pushed you back gently so you were laying down on the table. Then he hooked your legs over his shoulders and sank his cock into you, both of you moaning together at the feeling of it.

"MC," he mumbled. "MC, ya feel so good."

You couldn't even formulate a response to this. Mammon took what you said about not holding back to heart. The minute he was fully inside you, he let himself go, his thrusts wild and fast. Every one hit just right, your body squeezing around him, his hands gripping your hips.

You took in the sight of him above you - your legs on his shoulders, his wings flared out behind him, his horns and the white markings on his chest fully visible to you, a sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.

You couldn't stop moaning and gasping, your own hands clutching at the table beneath you. His cock felt so good inside you and every thrust pulsed pleasure through your body. You were already so close, but then Mammon reached in between you to stimulate your most sensitive spot with his fingers.

You cried out at his touch, an unexpected spike in the pleasure you were feeling. You writhed on the table now, your legs clenching down on his shoulders.

Mammon was practically chanting your name now. He didn't slow down, but his thrusts became sloppier, more desperate.

The momentum built and you could feel every muscle tense as your orgasm burst upon you, exploding behind your eyes and rushing through every nerve in your body. You cried out Mammon's name, sitting up slightly from the intensity of the feeling.

The sound of your voice calling out his name, the feeling of you squeezing him so sweetly, sent Mammon over the edge. You gasped in air as you felt yourself fill up with his cum.

You were collapsed on the table, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Mammon lowered your legs from his shoulders and leaned forward over you, his wings hovering on either side of you. He pressed kisses up your throat before pulling you to sit up so he could kiss you properly.

"Ya drive me crazy," he said into your lips. "You're so perfect."

You sighed against him, reaching out to brush his wings again. "So are you."

The way he blushed from that alone was so cute, you knew it was only a matter of time before you would be initiating round two.

You might also enjoy this Lucifer demon form smut.

masterlist | Thank you for reading!

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

corrupt!Nanami

A/N: For @mozlov. Enjoy! 🫶🏽

corrupt!Nanami shifted personalities like flipping off the light switch on a dark stormy night: Your big soft bear was more savage than ever. "You're not listening. She's not takin time off. And as long as y/n works here, so do I. End of fuckin story." Nanami snarls at Yaga. Rolling and flexing his shoulders like he's getting ready for a fight. He's always so ready to box these days. Especially over you. "Nami, its okay. Let's just go-" You're pulling at his dress shirt, afraid shits bout to go down. But Yaga simply holds up his hand for silence. "If you can control yourself while we figure out your condition.. Y/n can stay, but-" Nanamis already taking a step forward, eyes narrowed. You gotta put yourself in between them to make sure your husband doesn't swing. "We'll allow you on the grounds for visitation but you simply can't teach like this. Not at the moment, Kento." Nanami stares at him coldly for a moment before turning to you. The adoration in his eyes gives you whiplash, but it's relief when he puts away the malevolent beast and returns your loving husband. "Long as she's good, I'm good." Said with too much conviction, slowly rubbing a thumb over your bottom lip, shallowly dippin between your lips to tease the tip of your tongue. You gasp, eyes wide at at how quick Nanami goes through the motions. Fuckin guy is now starin at you like you're his prey. "But she's takin the day off." He quickly pulls you from the room without another word, Yaga starin at Nanami's back in utter disbelief.

corrupt!Nanami turns out to be fuckin elated not to be a teacher anymore and quickly loses his dedication to the cause. He's only interested in the art of slaughter, no longer needing a valid reason to pull out his cleaver. Tries, and often fails, to keep that shit to a minimum. Dont get it twisted, Nanami's a murderous bastard. Isn't limited to just killing curses anymore but anyone that gets in his way. Yet.. he's aware how that fucks with your conscience. Knows he can sleep like a baby after but doesn't fuck with how that shit keeps you up at night. So he hides his bloody clothes after a long day, making sure to shower before coming to bed and scooping you into his arms. Falls asleep peacefully as his mind flashes scenes from his lastest kill.

corrupt!Nanami no longer asks your permission for shit anymore. Bent over to pick somethin up? That ends up with your husband puttin you on all fours, giving you back breaking back shots as your try to crawl away. "Quit that, y/n. Told yo fine ass bout doin that shit, right? Bendin over so just so I can see.. 'S all your fault.. You know I can't help it. Ass is too perfect to ignore." It's worse when you try to work out. Always sneaks up from behind to grab you, accusin you of excersing for hours just to tease him. So you find your self in Nanami's lap, cock warming him as you try to catch your breath from your workout. "Aww.. Poor baby, so tired. Don't worry, won't take long. Dicks been so hard watching this whole time. Help me baby, please. You're the one that did this to me.." Christ you cant even get any sleep round your torturer, most nights waking up to his dick hard between your thighs. This times he's awake, thrusting slowly as he holds you to him tight, growling your name at your ear. "Been waitin for you to get up. Look what you did to me.. Throwing that ass on me in your sleep. Come on, y/n. Lemme fuck. Took everything in me not to fill your sleepy lil pussy. Deserve a reward, huh? Gonna help me out?" Not like he needs it since you already feel his first load starting to dry on your thighs.

corrupt!Nanami doesn't have any more patience for you excuses on why you can't give him a baby. Tired as fuck of talking to you about it. So takes it to the next level and starts to plot on you, replacing your birth control with placebos. Then.. He waits to catch you off guard one pitch black night when you're walking to your car from class. You're energy completely drained, you just don't hear him swiftly comin at you from the side. A huge gloved hand blanketing your lips, trapping your scream. Nanami's snatches your wrist together, brawny body restraining you to the car. You struggle against him, too fuckin weak to curse him due to your overwhelming day. But he knows that already; deceitful ass went through alotta trouble to make sure your itinerary was extra full today. "Shhhh." You ignore him, the familiar voice and planes of his muscled chest against yours back not registering, buckin and tryin with all your might to break free. Fuckin turnin Nanami on watchin you attempting to escape, juicy ass repeatedly trapping his dick between your cheeks as you wiggle wildly against him. He ain't waiting a second longer. Fuck your screams, he'll deal with whoever interrupts him accordingly. Lets go of your mouth to rip at your bottoms like they're paper, making your struggles double. Might as well be laying limp, absolutely no match for the 1st grade. Nanami unsheathes his cock, spitting in his hand generously and lubing up. You're body's tense as fuck when you feel him stab through your opening. Pitiful insides clutching his dick like a dear old friend. "Loosen the fuck up woman.." The fuck? "Nami?!" He let's go of your wrists, slamming his hands on either side of you to trap you further. "I told you to be quiet." Snatches your head back by your hair and thrustin the rest of his dick into you. "Nami!" Shrill cry piercing the air. It's uncomfortable without foreplay to prepare you, still he digs you out without remorse. "Shhhh, y/n.. shhh." Nanami squishes you to the car, molding your body to his. Strokin deep as he can, like he'll never see you again. Literally fuckin loud moans from your throat, so damn good that its not your fault your gettin wet; slick building and forming a white ring around him. "Shhhh. Screamin your fuckin head off, baby.. So you not gone listen? Never do. Just like when I told you I wanted to breed this perfect cunt, make you give me a pretty baby. But you didn't listen then either. Now look what you made me do." So that's what this is? The revelation makes you try to get away again but Nanami's hold on your locks keeps you right where he wants you. Sharp yanks that makes you shriek, scalp stinging. "H-hurts, Nami. 'M sorry. So sorry." You whine to him, body fallin pliant against your car. But your husband rolls his eyes. He aint buyin your BS this time. "Naw, you gonna take this nut. Gonna give me my baby, woman." Pulling you off the car and into his body, your husband pummels your lil puss likes he's in heat. "Ahhh fuck, y/n.. Love you. Love you more than anything, finally gonna show you how much, honey." You're disgusted. At doin something this at the school. At him for startin a family like this. Most importantly, at yourself for still loving him, knowing that this changed nothing between the two of you. Even as he breeds your lil puss without consent. "Here it comes- ohshitohshit! Daaaamn, y/n.. Got so much for you. Mmmm.. So good for me. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you so fuckin much. Only want a baby with you. Only you, y/n. Always been only you." Youre whining when his hips still, Nanami pressin his dick deep as possible when he finally impregnates you. "Love you so fuckin much, honey." "Love you too, Kento.. Fuckin asshole." He chuckles, pulling out and tucking you into the car. "Let's go home, sweetheart. Gonna make your pretty lil pussy cum before I fill her up again." "Kay, Nami."

[shakingparadigm]

no one’s talking about that half-naked alien petting till and i am both glad but also haunted by that. please tell me that wasn’t implying what i think it is. till has gone through wayyy too much and i will literally sob if it turns out he’s gone through this too

I had a post drafted about that but I didn't know how to feel about posting it at first. I'm just gonna reiterate it here though.

The entire first verse of ROUND 6 was actually pretty uncomfortable to watch, at least for me. I genuinely thought we were going to delve into that territory, you know. And I wouldn't put it past VIVINOS of all people to do it. The dim lighting, alcohol bottles, the very familiar environment of private rooms and drunk cruelty, it all resembles certain acts and situations that are unfortunately common within the performance industry. ALIEN STAGE obviously emphasizes the horrific aspects of stardom and could be read as a commentary on that kind of culture as a whole (constant performativity, lack of autonomy, performers as objects possessed by those of higher power, literal cutthroat competition, etc.), so exploring the topic of assault isn't unlikely, especially when it's so prevalent in that kind of fame. Still, I was jarred when I first watched the video.

The way that they handled Till was upsettingly familiar to me. It was slightly easier to bypass when Urak was simply shoving him via telekinesis. But a group of large, drunk aliens violently putting their hands on him, grabbing him by the neck and bending him on the table (it was at this point I began to feel a bit squeamish), it became a little too real? For me at least. And then there's your main point, the assaulting alien that was clothed in the scene before is now naked in the next, save for the open, unbuttoned shirt. And Till is on the ground next to him, his hair carded through and scratched by giant hands. Till is disheveled and sweating. It seems this was the lowest point of his night, seeing as how he dreams up an angelic apparition of Mizi. An escape, a salvation. Someone that could offer him a soft, gentle respite to balm the pain of his abuse. The way he desperately reaches out, shaking and exhausted, it's painful.

I know it's not explicitly shown in the video. It's not implied in posts (although from what I hear, there's traces of something similar in the Anakt Kit book), but you can't deny the thoughts that the imagery brings to mind, especially when said imagery is so vivid and visceral. I won't claim that this is the absolute message the team was trying to convey, nor that this is the correct way to perceive that scene, just that the pieces leading to this interpretation are there. VIVINOS videos are meticulously crafted, and the whole collection deals with disturbing concepts and topics. If they wanted to imply something, they'd know how to do it. Anyway, the first scenes struck a chord in me, to say the least.

[howlingday]

Close For Discomfort

A Knightfall Parody

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

Jaune: (In bed, Stretches) Morning, babe~.

Cinder: (Yawns) Morning, blue eyes~.

Salem: (Nude) Speaking of blue eyes, I'm making blueberry pancakes! Y'all want any?

Jaune: AGH! Grandma! For Brother's sakes, put on some clothes! Please!

Salem: Clothes ruin my morning flow! You know that! Now, you want blueberry or chocolate chip? (Walking away) Because spoiler alert, the chocolate chips are HELLA PACKED with THC!

Jaune: ...

Cinder: We need to move out.

Jaune: What?!

Cinder: NOW!

Jaune: Wh- I- B- Cindy, we've got free room and board, a literal castle with protection from Grimm attacks and... all the pancakes we could ever want~!

Cinder: Wonderful, but do you have any idea how obnoxious your grandmother has gotten since we started dating? THREE YEARS AGO?

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

Cinder: (Doing laundry, Rolls eyes at Salem's "Death To All Faunus" shirt)

Cinder: (Turns over, Sees "And Humans, Too") Oh... That's... better?

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

Cinder: And then there was my birthday last month.

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

Everyone: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU~!

Ruby: Happy birthday, Cinder~!

Cinder: Thank you, Re- Er, Ruby.

Salem: Time for presents~! (Hands over gift) Here you go, Cindy~!

Cinder: (Flatly) Oh, good, I wonder what this is- Oh, look, it's a crotchless panties and a nippleless bra. Who would've guessed?

Jaune: Hey, I remember those! I wonder if mine still fit...

Cinder: ...

Ruby: ...

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

Cinder: And that's NOTHING compared to the bullshit she pulled last week!

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

Cinder: (On Jaune, Drags fingers down chest)

Jaune: (Saucily chuckles, Rubs arm)

Cinder: (Leans down, Stops) Is that a fucking camera?!

Salem: (Distant) STOP BREAKING THE SCENE!

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

Jaune: (Holding "Grimm Pictures Presents: Fallen Knights of Passion " CD) In her defense, the production value on this was... incredible~!

Cinder: (Takes CD, Melts it)

Jaune: AW~! I was really good in that one...

Cinder: Yes, you were. Not the point!

Jaune: Mm... I'm not sure how we'd move in the first place. Can't exactly just buy a house as "enemies of humanity".

Cinder: Well, who's to say we have to buy or rent anything? I'm sure we could easily steal a house on the shore.

Jaune: Cinder! You promised!

Cinder: I'm kidding! I'm kidding! ...Mostly.

Jaune: What about Ruby? I'm sure she could vouch for us now that Salem's gone straight.

Cinder: We could... but I don't think she'd be interested in anything I have to say...

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

Ruby: Cinder, what the fuck?!

Cinder: (Via scroll) You asked, I delivered.

Ruby: I asked for Sonic merch for my birthday, not for you to kidnap another Sonic character!

Big: I'm Big~!

Ruby: He's Big! ...Wait, is that your name?

Big: Yuh-huh~!

Cinder: Well, I'm glad you're enjoying him~.

Ruby: STOP DROPPING FURRIES ON MY DOORSTEP!

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

Jaune: Hm... Well, we could always ask for a trial by combat. I'm already good friends with most huntsmen, so all I'd have to do is ask for the next availability. Not to mention they also pay huge, and we're probably going to win anyways because the only people who could beat either of us that aren't our friends are dead! Oh, I made myself feel bad.

Cinder: And this "next availability" would be when?

Jaune: Let's see, according to the schedule, it is... SIX YEARS?!

Cinder: Fuck that! You need a job!

Jaune: Also gonna be hard since I'm blacklisted as a huntsman and my resume aside from that is just... kid who's related to the woman who tried to wipe out humanity.

Cinder: I don't have a formal education, either. The only thing I learned growing up was the best ways to kill a woman and how to scrub week-old cum off decades-old wood.

Salem: (Pops in) Oh, now that takes me back~...

Cinder: (Hurls fireball) EAT SHIT, YOU OLD HAG!

Salem: (Walks downstairs) Oh, you know I was talking about dick...

Cinder: ...GET ME THE HELL OUT OF HERE.

Jaune: Okay, okay! Uh... We could do manual labor! I've been training to fight the Grimm since I was a teenager, so I can still do other work that requires muscle! We could probably build our own house and a whole neighborhood in, like, a week!

Cinder: I... I don't think I could be doing any physical labor.

Jaune: Why not? You pick ME up and toss me into bed real easy when you're feeling frisky. (Come hithers)

Cinder: (Sighs) That's not what I mean.

Jaune: I know, but I mean... I think you'd be great at it! You're smart, you're driven, you're WAY stronger than me without your maiden powers, and you're-

Cinder: PREGNANT~!

Jaune: ...Wha?

Cinder: And, yeah, I know I can still work, but I think it's really awkward to tell your boss, "Hey, I know I just started, but I'm going to need maternity leave really soon!" It just seems like a clusterfu-

Jaune: (Grabs her) You're pregnant?!

Cinder: Yeah... It's why I didn't ask for any chocolate chips.

Jaune: How... How long?

Cinder: Pregnant? About a month, but I only found out a few days ago! I didn't know how to tell you. We have something good already and everything just sort of happened and I have no idea what happens next or even if you want to-

Jaune: Cinder! (Takes her hands) You... You have made me the happiest man in the entire world. No one has ever made me feel this happy before, except you, and you somehow just keep making me happier.

Cinder: (Eyes watering)

Jaune: I... I love you. And I love our baby.

Cinder: (Hugs him) I love you, too~!

Salem: (Leaning against the wall) So, how much longer until your belly gets bigger? It's been a few centuries since my time, so I'm not sure what the standard is now. And I'd like to know before the next video.

Cinder: If our baby is a girl and we're not out of this house by the time she hits puberty, I WILL murder Salem!

Salem: Tch! Good luck! (Slurps pancake)

[writing-intheundercroft]

You're Gonna Go Far - O. Gaunt

AO3 Link

Word Count: 10,956

Rating: E (The boys are in a fraternity, Smut, Oral Sex (F receiving), Unprotected Sex, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: It's the night before graduation, and Ominis Gaunt is moving to New York City next week. There isn't much time left to say all the things that have gone unsaid over the past seven years.

A/N: I'm in the loveliest Ominis server on Discord, and this is dedicated to @grandeoatmilklatte, who inspired frat president Ominis. I hope you enjoy!

You walk up the steps of the splintered porch, taking great care to not slip on the beer a freshman has dropped on the stoop.  Graduation ceremonies start in the morning and the spring chill has broken, giving way to a gorgeous May evening.  It’s just warm enough that you’ve got the slightest glisten on your collarbone from your fast pace walk, abandoning the bar scene for your best mates’ last frat party ever.  

“Very nice,” a voice purrs behind you. “You do always look pretty when you polish up.”

You roll your eyes, swatting at a sweaty Lucan Brattleby as he dodges your aim. “Buzz off, Luc.  Have you seen Sebastian and Ominis?”

“Sebastian is somewhere getting his face sucked off by Cressida,” Lucan chuckles, brushing back his curly mop. “And I haven’t seen Ominis all night, except when he yelled at me for trying to get into his room.”

You raise an eyebrow, resting a hand on your hip as you bounce your heel against the porch.  You swallow away the lump in your throat, hoping Ominis isn’t off getting slobbered on by a girl. Whatever liquid courage you’ve consumed this evening is already wearing thin, and the sight of Ominis with a stranger might shatter you.  

“And why were you trying to get into his room?” You ask, trying to pry.

Lucan shrugs. “Well, the president’s room gets passed down to the next president,” he jerks his thumb back to himself proudly. “And I wanted to measure for my furniture next semester.  I think I could fit a wet bar in there.”

You try to stifle your snort, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “I’m going in to find him,” you announce, stepping through the threshold.  With the door open, the music bleeds out onto the porch.  

It’s so loud, you can feel the bass from the music thumping in your stomach.  Garreth is in the kitchen, peddling some of his tonics; Amit and Andrew are in the living room, scolding some younger students for touching the large telescope situated by the windows. You spot Sebastian leaning against the stair railing, a cup of beer in his hand. You have to wade through a sea of bodies just to reach him.

”It’s about time you showed up,” Sebastian teases, swirling his beer. Your freckled friend has his shirt unbuttoned quite low, and you notice several young ladies shooting jealous glances your way. It's laughable that they'd be envious - Sebastian has never been anything more than a pesky brother to you, growing even closer in the years since Anne's passing.

”I thought you would be getting your face sucked off by Cressida,” you mock Lucan’s words, and Sebastian groans.

“I’ve been trying to escape her all night,” he tilts his head, appraising your outfit. Sebastian can be a touch overprotective when you go out on the town, and you wouldn’t put it past him to say something about how cold you must be in your slip dress.  “Bar night with the girls go well?”

”Imelda had to take Poppy home before she puked in another planter. Think she has a few of Garreth’s brews before we even hit the town.” you laugh as you talk about your roommates, crossing your arms over your chest.  “And if you’re going to criticize my clothes—“

“I think you look beautiful,” Sebastian offers. “Ominis is going to think so too.”

You blush. “Ominis doesn’t care for clothes.”

”Ominis cares for you ,” Sebastian points out, lifting the cup to his lips. “Have you seen him yet?”

You shake your head. “I was going to check his room, but didn’t want to stop him if he was…er, busy .” you wave your hands erratically, hoping Sebastian would get the gist of your implication.

Sebastian snorts, grinning over the edge of the plastic cup. “Definitely not.  Tell you what, head up to his room—I’ll send him up when I see him.”

You swat at him, but head up the stairs to the third floor anyways.  Passing by throngs of students enjoying the last weekend of term, you push your way to the door neatly labeled O. Gaunt, President.

The door seems to know you’re one of Ominis’s welcomed guests, so it unlocks itself for you. Ominis has always been nifty at protective spells, his door clearly charmed to only let in select visitors.  And much to your relief, the room is empty.  

You walk around the room, the door left ajar behind you. Ominis is a simple man, not keeping much more in his room other than a bed, desk, and the textbooks stacked neatly on his dresser.  The suit he’s been planning to wear to graduation is draped across the back of his armchair, but that’s not what catches your eye. What calls your attention the most are the two graduation gowns hanging in the closet–from afar they look identical, but you know better than anyone the implication behind both.

“I thought you were out for girls night.” 

“I couldn’t miss your last party ever, could I?”

You hear Ominis’s familiar breezy laugh. “I’d much rather be at a bar myself right now. It’s an absolute madhouse downstairs. I've been trying to keep it civilized.”

You don’t turn around; instead, you remain standing in Ominis’s closet, dragging a finger over the thick robe, trimmed with black and green velvet.  Ominis had originally planned to wear the same plain polyester school-issued robe as Sebastian, but a large box arrived on the front porch of the house earlier in the week. You, Sebastian, and Garreth lingered in the living room as Ominis carefully unwrapped the parchment paper, revealing a box with a gilded Gladrags logo.  Inside was the luxurious robe, accompanied by a satin stole.  It had the Gaunt family crest embroidered on the chest, the family motto dancing around his neck in metallic silver thread. 

Ex auro purissimo sanguinis. The purest of blood.

It was the first he’d heard from his family in almost six months–the note from Marvolo had stated if Ominis was going to represent the family in an official capacity, he needed to dress the part. Ominis immediately set the offending notecard on fire, the fancy box quickly thrown out their window and into the dumpster below. It was only after you’d gotten back to your flat that Sebastian texted; the box was empty in the trash can, but both the fancy robe and stole were hanging in Ominis’s closet.

“Which one will you wear?” You ask, turning your gaze over your shoulder.  

Ominis smiles, pushing a stray strand of blonde hair from his forehead.  Your devastatingly handsome best friend leans against the doorway, a red cup resting in his hand. Ominis has never been one to dress down–his version of a party outfit is a pair of neat, chino pants, an ironed button down layered over a tee shirt emblazoned with his fraternity letters. He fiddles with the handle of his wand in the other, the tip glowing a soft hazy red as he made sense of your placement in the bedroom.

“I think you know,” Ominis muses, swiftly moving from the doorway to his bed. “Wasn’t nearly as difficult of a decision to make as I thought.  The boys are my family now. Have been for a while.”

He sits atop the rickety full-sized bed, the springs of his mattress creaking beneath his weight.  You nearly laugh; Ominis is so tall, he looks comical perched on the misshapen bedframe. He’s never been good at transfiguration, but he’s too stubborn to let anyone else help him with his furniture.  Despite the odd furnishings, the rest of Ominis’s bedroom is neat and tidy.  His striped sheets are pristine, the duvet folded at the edge of the bed. It’s a far cry from Sebastian’s room, which is littered with papers and broken quills, or the room that Andrew and Garreth share at the end of the hall.  The two have nearly come to blows several times in the last semester over who would take the trash out.

“You still haven’t packed,” you hum, moving away from the closet and back over to his desk.  He hasn’t returned his books to the library yet, his magical ethics and muggle studies textbooks are still cracked open from finals. 

“I’ll get around to it,” Ominis shrugs.

“Lucan’s been bothering me about you packing,” you perch yourself on his desk chair. “Something about him wanting to get in and measure, so he can plan his furniture layout.  Said he wants to put a bar in the room.”

Ominis rolls his milky blue eyes, lifting the red cup to his lips. “Lucan isn’t president yet,” he reminds you. “I’m not sure when I’ll fully move out of the house. And he cannot build a wet bar in the bedroom, that’s unsanitary.”

You snort, spinning around slowly in the chair. “It’s nearly two o’clock. You’ll have bags under those pretty eyes of yours if you don’t get to bed soon.  Should I kick everyone out?”

Ominis laughs, setting the cup on the floor as he leans back in bed. “Let them have their fun,” he says fondly. “Sebastian needs one last party before he starts his rotations at St. Mungo’s.  Besides, I bet Garreth is making a fortune off his potions tonight.  Might as well clear out his entire stock on graduation parties. ”

You smile faintly as the music from downstairs bleeds up into the bedroom.  As far as fraternity houses go, there are certainly more posh ones on campus.  Ominis had been a legacy of the richest fraternity at school, one mostly of fellow purebloods and former Slytherins.  They’d spent the whole of first term trying to recruit him, baiting him with lavish dinners, free entrance to the clubs, and all the illicit beverages and substances one might desire.  But that wasn’t Ominis–unknowingly, they drove him even further into the opposite direction.  You can still remember bid day, and the shock on everyone’s faces when Ominis turned down their bid to join a humble off campus house with Sebastian. His family had been furious, specifically Marvolo–you can still remember the shouting match the brothers had gotten into, Marvolo slamming the dorm room shut after tearing Ominis to shreds.

Whilst most of the student body had expected Ominis to fade into obscurity after his controversial choice, quite the opposite happened.  Ominis truly flourished without the influence of his family, instead patching together a group of unexpected brothers. He surprised everyone when he became president his second year of uni, bringing some order to the rowdy gang of brothers with his natural born leadership skills.  What felt like a mishmash of random Hogwarts alumni suddenly became a little family, held together with Ominis as the glue.  

All in all, the shy, skinny Slytherin you once knew has really come into his own. 

“Knut for your thoughts?” Ominis asks, breaking you out of your reverie.

“Nothing,” you shrug, fixing the strap of your dress as you spin around once more. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”

“What’s weird?” Ominis asks softly, playing with his wand.  The tip has stopped glowing; he’s comfortable enough around you to not need his guide.

“That tomorrow, you graduate.” you utter. “And then, you’re gone.”

“Ah,” Ominis bites his bottom lip. “ That .”

It’s a subject the two of you have been avoiding for a while.  Ominis had spent the last few summers interning for the Wizengamot, fully expecting to work for them after graduating with his law degree.  Again, to everyone’s shock, Ominis had announced his intentions to apply for a position in the foreign office, working for MACUSA. You can still recall the doubt on Ominis’s face, brows furrowed as you and Sebastian helped him fill out his application before the deadline.  It had taken nearly an entire night, Sebastian snoring in an armchair while you sent the application off with an owl in the dark sky.

“We don’t even know if I’ll get it,” Ominis had said.

“You’re going to get it,” you assured him.  There was never a doubt in your mind.

Ominis received news of his placement with MACUSA at the end of fall term.  He was offered his first choice, a position in the foreign relations office, his first day of work being June 1st.  The celebration had lasted an entire week, until Garreth finally ran out of fizzing whizzbeer. The night was especially memorable, considering Ominis had also broken up with Nerida in the middle of the party.  He was unphased by both her screams and the beer that had flown in his face, Andrew and Garreth having to drag her out of the house. When asked about it the next morning, he’d merely shrugged it off. They hadn’t been dating longer than a month , Ominis pointed out.  Besides, he would be off to America soon enough.  Best to leave without baggage.

That thought sank in your stomach like a hot ball of lead.

“We really should start packing,” you remind him. “Unless you plan on arriving in New York with just a suitcase.”

“Maybe I’m thinking of not going,” Ominis mumbles. He leans back on the bed, unseeing eyes blinking up at the ceiling as he fumbles with his hand. “I know it looks bad on my part to decline a job this late, but–”

“Excuse me,” You gasp. “No buts, Ominis Gaunt.  You’re going to New York.”

“But what if they need me?” Ominis blurts. “Sebastian will be in London on his own, and you know he hates being alone now that Anne is gone.  And Lucan is still a little shit, he may need more experience before he’s ready to be president.  I worry he’ll bring his little dueling betting ring into the house, and I won’t stand to see the boys gambling their lives away.”

“Ominis,” you warn him. “You’re going.”

“And what about you?” Ominis asks softly. “You still have a year left here, I hate the thought of you being here by yourself.”

You pull yourself closer to the bed, the wheels of his desk chair squeaking on the floor.  “I’m going to be okay, Ominis.” You promise him. “You know, if you’re this anxious about it, we should probably get you a better cell phone.  I know how you feel about those muggle devices, but Sebastian and I really do find them useful. Not that owls aren’t efficient, but a transatlantic journey would take them quite a bit–”

Ominis’s hand is on yours, the sensation knocking the wind of your chest.

“You’ll be fine,” he murmurs. “It’s me I’m worried about.”

You stare at him, thankful he can’t see your gaze.  

Ominis has been your best friend for years now.  You can still remember him yelling at you the first time you left the Undercroft, his ire quickly fading away as soon as Sebastian forced the two of you into close proximity.  You’d shared more in common than you thought–a love for pranks, warm naps in the hallways, and an oddly similar affinity for banoffee pie. It wasn’t long before the three of you had become a package deal, hardly ever seen without the others.  It only made sense the three of you would go off to uni together after Hogwarts, you becoming somewhat of a house mother to Ominis, Sebastian, and the rest of the boys.

With that, you’d also spent the last four years of university watching Ominis date other girls.  There had never been anyone too serious, most of them being old acquaintances from Hogwarts, or pretty girls who’d stumbled into their parties.  They usually only lasted for weeks at a time, Ominis claiming he was far too busy taking care of his own brothers to handle a girlfriend as well. Usually in the end, the ladies would come sobbing at your doorstep, all wondering why they couldn’t get Ominis Gaunt to commit. 

At the same time, you’d had your fair share of fun and trouble at university–bad boyfriends, a few failed classes, all distracting you from your independent study on ancient magic. Enough so, you needed an extra two semesters under your belt to catch up on your dissertation.

“Are you scared?” you ask, voice soft. 

“Maybe,” Ominis admits, and it’s the first time in a very long time you’ve heard him express doubts. “The idea of being alone in New York is scary.  I’ve had you and Sebastian by my side for the last seven years, and I won’t know anyone.”

“You’re going to be great, Om.” you remind him. “You’re going to make a name for yourself in New York.  What would make you think otherwise?”

Ominis is chewing on his lower lip, thumb running over the back of your hand. “Marvolo called the this morning,” he admits, pointing to the little brick of a phone you and Sebastian had bullied him into buying. “It wasn’t good.”

“Oh, Om.” You sigh, pulling yourself closer. From this distance, you can smell the cool musk of his cologne, one of the little luxuries he maintains for himself. “What happened?”

Ominis hangs his head low, shaking out his dirty blond hair.  He normally has it gelled back, tidily done, but it seems a bit messy and disheveled. Out of character for your best mate.

“Said I was an embarrassment to the family,” Ominis mumbles. “That I should’ve taken the opportunity to work at Mulciber’s firm, and that Mother and Father are astounded I’d work for the government, let alone the Americans .” he says dramatically. 

“Your brother is an arse as usual,” you say defiantly. “And he has no idea how hard you’ve worked for this. Ominis, you’re the greatest treasure your family has ever lost, and I look forward to watching you prove them wrong.”

Ominis offers a small smile. “See?  What am I going to do without you as a voice of reason?”

Affection is nothing new for you.  The minute Sebastian and Ominis began bringing you around their brothers, it was made blatantly obvious that you were off limits.  Sebastian had threatened everyone, reminding them that you were practically their sister, and anyone who tried to make a pass at you would be dealt with swiftly. The first time one of the older boys had tried to kiss you, Ominis challenged him to a duel on the spot.  Within seconds, Ominis’s opponent was arse down on the floor, your best friend wrapping an arm around your shoulder to see if you were okay.

Nights spent in the library, sitting shoulder to shoulder as you studied.  Movie nights at the house, your legs tangled on the couch while Sebastian complained about sitting on the floor.  The two of you dancing around the kitchen, cooking up dinner while Lucan and Garreth played exploding snap at the table.  You can feel the thick lump forming in your throat as you try to imagine the next year without him.

“Remember what I said,” you swallow away your sadness. “If you want to go far–”

“You’ve got to go far.” Ominis repeats. “I know, you’re the one who told me to apply.”

You place your hand on his cheek, which is still rosy from the beer he’d been drinking. “You’re going to go to New York, Ominis.  And if you want to come home, we’ll be here.  Sebastian and me, we’ll be here.”

Ominis holds your hand to his cheek, blinking up at you through his thick lashes.  Something about the moment is far too intimate–you know you should leave, go back to the party downstairs.  There’s music still playing in the distance, your friends are still dancing, yet you’re here, alone with Ominis in his room.

“Can I ask you a question?” Ominis asks.

“Ask away,” you whisper.

You can see the way he moves his hand, dropping his wand onto the nightstand next to his bed.  His right hand is still on top of yours, keeping it glued to his warm cheek.  The other hand hooks behind your knee, fingers dancing over the soft skin.  He’s taller than you, and his knees slot between yours, legs knocking into each other.

“Have you ever–” he clears his throat, eyes fluttering as he tries to verbalize his thoughts. “Have you ever thought about us?”

“What about us?” You ask dumbly. 

To your despair, Ominis pulls away. He hastily tugs his hands from your body, pushing the desk chair to put distance between the two of you.  It’s faster than you could’ve imagined; your brain is still processing his question while he’s already got his wand in hand, hastily making a way towards the door.

“Ominis, stop!” You demand.

“It’s dumb,” He ignores your words, wand lit red as he stomps across the room. “It was just a thought–”

“Ominis,” you repeat, standing up.  

“We should go back out to the party–”

“I have,” you choke out.  “I have thought about us.”

Ominis has his head pressed against the cheap pine door.  One hand is on the door knob, the other fondling his wand.  You can sense his trepidation as he slowly stows his wand in his back pocket, turning to face you once more.

“You have?” he croaks.

“I have,” you parrot back the words to him. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Ominis demands. 

“Because,” you’re shaking now. “Because if I told you, you wouldn’t have applied.  And we’re best friends, Ominis, who knows what we’d be getting ourselves into.” the words tumble out of your mouth. 

The idea of life with Ominis had never crossed your mind–not until Poppy had proposed it earlier in the school year, pointing out how he doted on you.  The first to offer you a drink, always free to walk you home at the end of the night.  If you were going through a breakup, Ominis would drop everything to be at your doorstep, a bottle of wine and takeaway in hand.  He’s sat on your couch listening you rant about horrible dates at least a hundred times now.

He’s perfect for you, Poppy had said.

But he’s my best friend, you’d argued back.  

It was only after that conversation that you’d began to see Ominis differently.  The way his eyelashes fluttered when you brushed hair out of his face, or the way a warm blush would creep on his cheeks whenever your skin touched his.  On more than one occasion you found yourself biting the inside of your cheek whenever his shirt roved above his waist. Worst of all, you couldn’t help the bile that would rise in your throat whenever you saw him chatting with another girl, the acrid taste coating your tongue.

Ominis is perfect, every inch of him being boyfriend material. There’s no mistaking that. Your fear lies in the fact that Ominis is your closest confidant, one of your best friends.  While painful, it almost seems easier to hang in the balance of not getting to love him rather than losing him.

“What would we do if we realized we were no good for each other?” you blurt. “You’re my best friend, Om.  I wouldn’t be able to bear it.”

“Bear what?” Ominis muses.

Oh, it’s cruel the way he looks so handsome.  His lips are curved in somehow both a smile and a grimace, dancing around the inevitable question.  

“Don’t make me say it,” you feel weak already. 

“Please,” Ominis asks, voice teetering on the edge of politeness and desire. “Say it, please.”

“I wouldn’t be able to bear it if we didn’t work out,” you confess. “Because it’s you, Ominis.  I love you.”

You’ve told each other you love one another plenty.  The first was at the end of fifth year, when the three of you were departing for separate summer holidays.  Again, when you graduated and you cried about how much you were going to miss Hogwarts.  Both of you with Sebastian, at Anne’s funeral the summer after freshman year.  Throughout all of university, through texts, phone calls, kisses on the cheek before you leave the bar at the end of the night.  

Hiya, love you.  Love you, get home safe.  You’re annoying, but love you.

This time, it’s different.  It’s no longer a statement, it’s a confession.

“You love me.” Ominis says slowly.

“Ah, fuck.” you swear, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “This is so not how I thought tonight would go.”

“If you love me,” Ominis asks, voice shaky. “Why did you tell me to apply for the MACUSA job?”

“Because it’s what you want,” you whisper. “And you’re going to be so, so good at it, Ominis. It’s a fresh start where no one will care who your family is, and that’s what you need.”

“Even if it means I’m going to live far away?” he asks, cheeks reddening. 

Your fingers curl into your palms, nails pricking skin. “You always talked about getting away from your family.  It sounded like the best option for you–you’d get to do something you truly love, something you’re good at.  You’re going to help people, and you’re going to be more than a Gaunt.  It’s the best thing for you, Ominis.”

“But what if I wanted you?” Ominis asks, voice strained. “What if I wanted to stay?”

“I wouldn’t want that.” You admit. “If you’re going to stay, it has to be for more than me. Not that I think you’d stay for me, specifically–I mean, I’m sure Sebastian would love for you to stay home too, and Garreth would miss you–”

Ominis pauses for a moment, his mouth opening and snapping shut as he thinks.  Part of you is curious at what he might say, the other is so embarrassed you’re ready to chuck yourself out the window of his third floor bedroom.  You might land in the rose bushes, which will undoubtedly hurt, but a broken bone will hurt certainly less than rejection from your best friend.

“Say something, for the love of Merlin–”

He doesn’t.

Instead, Ominis launches himself off the door, closing the distance between you in four quick strides.  The desk chair is practically thrown out of the way, tipping onto its side as Ominis slinks a hand around your waist.  You can feel his breath on your cheek, head tipped against yours as he presses your back against his misshapen desk.

“Ominis!” you shriek, watching him swipe everything off his desk and onto the floor.  His heavy books clatter against the hardwood floor, landing with a loud thud.  He wastes no time lifting you onto his desk, tugging your legs closer to the edge as he slots himself between them.

“Tell me,” Ominis pants, his forehead pressed against yours. “Tell me you’ve thought about this before.”

You groan as his mouth descends upon yours. Your hands are tangled in his thick hair, his fingertips pressing into your waist as he kisses you with a bruising force. 

“I have,” you moan into his mouth. 

Ominis moans in return; it’s a sound you’ve been trying to imagine for the last six months, and it sounds so much better in real life.  Your hands slip under the edge of his well worn t-shirt, feeling the warm skin underneath. Ominis has always been long and lithe, and his toned muscle feels just as good as you’ve thought it would. Feeling your nails scratching his skin, Ominis pulls away to mark kisses up and down your throat.

You surge forward, hips trying to close the little distance between your center and Ominis’s body. You can feel his clothed erection throbbing against your thigh, his head tilted back up to kiss your lips. A large palm settles on your breast, tentatively swiping over a clothed nipple.  At your gasp, Ominis pauses; he leans his forehead against yours, breathing heavily as you both register the current state of events.

“That was our first kiss,” Ominis groans. “And I acted like a complete boor.”

You snort. “Took you about two minutes before you had your tongue in my mouth and a hand on my chest.  Not one for subtlety, are you?”

Ominis snorts too, leaning his forehead against your shoulder as he rests his hands on the desk behind you. “To be fair, I’ve been thinking about your breasts for the last six years.  Didn’t want to waste any precious time I have left with them.”

It’s funny and romantic, and also heartbreaking.  If you think about Ominis leaving, you may burst into tears.

“Hey,” Ominis whispers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to kill the mood–”

You press your mouth against his; he’s unprepared, so your teeth gnash together.  Ominis quickly adjusts, letting you dominate the kiss.

“Let’s just focus on right now,” you plead. “We can talk about New York after—but not now.”

Ominis pulls away slightly, a small smile growing on his lips.  He’s blinking rapidly, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“What?” you demand, running a hand through your hair.

“Just happy that it’s us, finally.” Ominis admits. “You and me.”

His little smile is everything, you think.  And while you love the sweet expression, you want to see the faces Ominis makes under more amorous circumstances.

“Ominis,” you coo gently, taking his hand and placing it on your chest. He’s fully red in the face, mouth agape as you guide him at palming your breast. He gets the message, taking control as your hands rest on his shoulders.

“I’ve never told you, but I love it when you wear these dresses,” Ominis muses, his free hand trailing up your thigh. “They’re soft, just like you.”

Your breath catches as his hand snakes upwards, squeezing your bottom. The edge of your short dress is rucked up to your waist as Ominis feels the lace, hovering dangerously close to your center. It’s so intimate, a lengthy departure from your normally buttoned up, proper friend who hates kisses on the cheek. Your head tilts back, a moan on the tip of your tongue as the hand once squeezing your behind starts tracing the edge of your thong.

“No fair,” you wheeze, tugging on his shirtsleeves. “If I’m arse out, you’ve got to take some clothes off too.”

Ominis lets out a loud laugh as he removes his hands from you, letting the button down fall to the floor.  Your hands pull at his t-shirt, helping him take it off.  The second the letters fall on the floor, your hands fly up to his chest, roving over the pale planes.  

“You’re vulgar, too.” Ominis chuckles. “One of the many things I admire about you.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, lacing your fingers with his.  Your nose bumps into his chin, helping him make sense of your position.  He tilts his face down, hot breath fanning your cheeks. “Soft and vulgar, two very different words you’re using to describe me.”

“At first it irked me,” Ominis confesses. “When we first met.  But after I got to know you, I realized you’re just loud because you’re having fun. And life didn’t need to be so stuffy.”

“That’s sweet,” you admit. 

“You make everything better,” Ominis says, lips hovering closer towards yours again.  “You always have.”

“I’d say the same about you.” you whisper, lips brushing against his in a chaste kiss. 

Ominis has no more restraint left in him.  He surges forward, hands cradling your cheeks as he kisses you.  You’ve never seen him kiss anyone like this before–Ominis is always polite and tender with his conquests.  This Ominis is pure hunger, making up for lost time. 

You drag your nails up and down his back as he kisses you breathless, only stopping when he pulls away.

“Are you okay with this?” He asks, voice tinged with desperation. “Because there’s no going back.”

There’s no mistaking what this is–you’re crossing the boundary with your best friend, making love while you still have time to do so. If it were any other occasion, you might blame the alcohol going to your head, but no decision has ever felt more sane.

It’s Ominis.

“Yes. I want this,” you utter, and that’s that.

Ominis tugs you away from the desk, fingers slipping under the thin straps of your dress to pull it down.  The slinky fabric pools at your ankles while his hands rove over your body. His fingertips dragging over every curve, while you work the buttons of his pants.  He spins you quickly, pushing you onto his rickety bed as he steps out of his pants.

“I hate your bed,” you groan, bouncing on the springy mattress. “You should’ve let me help you with the spells.”

Ominis lets out a breathy laugh as he hops towards you, kicking away a pant leg. “It’s fine .  I don’t understand why you’re complaining, it’s a bed.”

It’s your turn to snort, chuckling as Ominis feels around the bedspread for you. You tuck your knees up to your chin, darting away from his touch.  You can tell just how frustrated he is, blonde hair falling in his eyes, patting around the bed.

“I want to feel you,” he complains, sinking into the mattress across from you. “I want to take my time with you tonight.”

“Then feel away,” you breathe, letting him catch hold of your ankle. 

Ominis licks his lips, eyes fluttering as he presses a searing hot kiss to your ankle.  The kisses start trailing up your leg, stopping intentionally every few seconds.  His teeth graze the inside of your knee, and the whimper that comes out of your mouth is downright embarrassing.

“Now I want to taste you,” Ominis murmurs, hooking your legs over his shoulder. Before you can respond, his teeth are dragging against the flimsy fabric of your thong. One hand pulls it aside, the other bracing your hip. Without warning, the blond takes a long, deliberate lick. With your taste on his tongue, Ominis loses his self control and tears away the scrap of fabric, tugging it off your body and tossing it.

“Ominis!” You shriek, head tilting back to his pillows.

You can tell he’s smiling from the way his cheeks lift, eyes squeezing shut as he presses a kiss to your clit.  His pace is maddening, lazily lapping as he pins your hips down.  Ominis shakes his head, his tongue finally circling against your clit again once you’ve whined enough.

“You taste so good,” he groans. 

“Just like you’ve imagined?” You utter between the sharp gasps he’s eliciting from you.

Ominis doesn’t respond, instead sucking hard on your clit to express his answer.  He’s clearly turned on by your gasps and the sound of your wet cunt, the auditory stimulation driving him to grind his hips against the squeaking mattress.  At this rate, his fingertips may leave bruises in the crease of your thighs. Never did you ever imagine Ominis Gaunt’s head between your legs, but now you really can’t imagine going the rest of your life without his mouth on you.

“Ominis, please,” you strain, reaching out to grasp his hair.  The sharp tug has him growling against your skin, still relentless in his slow, thoughtful method. His tongue darts into your cunt at an excruciating tempo.

“I told you,” he hums, sinking teeth in your thigh as he gives you a momentary reprieve. “I’m going to take my time with you. And if that means I’m here, all night–then so be it.”

In your daze, you hardly notice the fact that he’s now slipped his fingers inside of you, slowly pumping them as he kisses your clit again. With every stroke you feel the band tightening in your stomach, the overwhelming urge to snap coming any moment.  You paw at his head, anything to express how close you are, but he relents with his pace. When his fingers curl inside of you, you slam your head back against the pillows again, a ragged cry tumbling off your lips as you come.

Ominis pulls away, your slick glistening his chin as he gives you a smug smile.  Your heart is hammering in your chest at the sight of him, cheeks red and panting from giving you the most glorious head you’ve ever received to date.

“Did I do well?” He asks, almost a bit shy.

You try to get up, but your quivering legs fail you. “You’ve rendered me boneless,” you laugh, pressing a hand against your chest.

Ominis pulls himself up over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You can still taste yourself on his mouth, flooding your head with filthy ideas. 

“Your turn,” You murmur, mustering the strength to pull yourself up. You push Ominis over, and he falls against the bed.  Somehow, your bodies know just how to move around each other–there is no awkward fumbling.  When you’ve known someone for years, spent half your school years cuddled up together in naps, you just know how to maneuver around one another. 

Ominis sits against the headboard, the pillows propped behind his back.  When he feels your hands touch the waistband of his boxers, he instinctively lifts his hips, letting you drag them down his legs.  His aching length springs free, slapping against his stomach as you crawl towards his lap.

“How does this feel?” You ask, adjusting your legs to straddle him.  You know he can feel how wet you are, dripping against his cock.  While your hands rest against his shoulders, Ominis’s arms wrap against your waist, all but pulling you down to grind against him. Waiting for his answer, your eyes scan every inch of his face to commit each beauty mark to memory.

Ominis presses a quick kiss to your nose, eyelashes fluttering in the way you love. “You feel so warm.” He groans, his cock twitching against you. The feeling of him against you sparks a familiar ache between your legs.  His jaw hardens when you slip your hand between your bodies, gripping him to guide his blunt head to your center.

“I love you,” Ominis chokes out as you sink onto his length.  His hands fly from your waist, now roving all over your body.  He’s consuming you, touching every single surface he can manage.  You both gasp as you bottom out, his head tipping back against the headboard with a thud.

“So good for me,” Ominis garbles out in broken syllables. “You’re...you feel so...”

You surge forward, lips pressed against his.  His kisses melt against your mouth as he tries to rock upwards into you. 

“We could’ve been doing this for ages,” Ominis complains, his nimble fingers tangling in your hair.

“Instead we’ve been just friends,” you chuckle, rolling your hips. Your hands are gripping the headboard behind him, forehead pressed against his as you grind against each other. 

“Idiots,” Ominis mutters, catching your lower lip with his teeth. “We’re idiots.”

You shift your feet underneath you, bouncing up and down on his length.  Ominis’s breath hitches against your breasts, his hands shifting down to your waist.  The feeling of his thumbs roving over your hip bones is enough to drive you harder, and you realize he’s admiring every single dimple, every curve.  He could go faster, fuck up into you if he really wanted to, but Ominis stays true to his word.  He’s taking his time to savor you, to commit your body to memory while he has you in his arms.

“Enjoying yourself?” You ask breathlessly, as Ominis’s hand trails up and down your spine for the umpteenth time.

He grins, baring his teeth as he surges forward, pushing you off and onto your back on the bed.  You yelp as he slithers over you, hovering just inches from your face as he presses back into your warmth. 

“Immensely,” Ominis whispers, kissing you as he starts rocking into you.  Without thought, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking him in as tightly as you can. When he pulls away, his forehead resting against yours, you flatten your hands against his cheeks. You fit against each other like puzzle pieces; it’s silly to have been so worried, you realize.  Slotted against each other, chasing one another to your mutual climax, you know only Ominis could’ve ever made sense.

“I love you,” you blurt as Ominis digs his face into your neck.

“I love you too,” Ominis mumbles into your neck. “I think I always have.”

“You have?” You squeak, thoughts punctuated by a moan as he snaps his hips at just the right angle.

“It’s you,” Ominis admits. “Of course I love you. I– oh shit –I’ve always had feelings for you,” he pants. “God, at least since we were sixteen.”

Ominis’s confessions, punctuated by an elusive curse word, melt your heart.  You shift your hips upwards, meeting him with every thrust.  The wet slapping of his skin against yours, the slamming of the headboard, coupled with Ominis’s babbling and your breathy moans echo off the walls. You hadn’t bothered with a silencing spell, not knowing that this is where the night would take you. It’s likely everyone in the house knows what’s going on between the two of you, and that almost turns you on more. After all these years, Ominis is yours, claimed by your loud coupling.

“I’ve dreamt of touching you here for years,” Ominis confesses between open mouth kisses. “Always thinking about how soft you must feel here,” his lips close around your nipple, tongue flicking against the surface.  It draws a shriek out of you, which has him grinning. “Just as I thought.”

Just the confirmation that Ominis has thought about you naked in bed just like you have stokes the fire within you, threatening to burst.  He feels too good inside of you; while you’d take the sweet torture of being edged all night just to keep him close, your body is teetering close to the edge.

“Come for me,” Ominis murmurs in your ear. “I want to feel you come undone.”

“I can’t,” you utter. “I don’t–I don’t want this to be over,” you choke out, clutching his shoulders.

The sex, this night, this season of your life, together.  You’re not quite sure which one your sex addled brain is referring to.

Ominis snakes up a large hand, cradling your cheek with his palm.  His thumb brushes over your swollen lips as little gasps escape your lips.

“We have tonight, all night.” Ominis whispers, each syllable met with a roll of his hips. “You don’t think it’ll be just once, do you?”

“Ominis,” you garble out, his thumb dipping into your warm mouth.  You’re not sure if you’re scolding his vulgar language, or warning him of the impending release.

“Come with me,” Ominis pleads.  

An urge to finish what you’ve started together, or perhaps a plea to join him across the sea.  Either way, the three words have you coming, Ominis choking out a moan as his hips stutter against yours. He shudders as he comes inside of you, not stopping his thrusts until he’s trembling, falling at your side. 

The two of you are silent for what feels like ages, just the ticking of his bedside clock and the soft hum of music from the party downstairs filling the background. As you stare at the ceiling, you feel his warm hand entangling his fingers with yours, and you’re both quiet for another few minutes as you collect your thoughts.

“I meant what I said,” Ominis breaks the silence.

“Which one?” you ask, tilting your head to look at him.  He’s still flat on his back, his free hand resting on his chest as his head tilts towards the sound of your voice.  His gorgeous blue eyes crease at the corners as he smiles.

“All of it,” Ominis muses. “That I love you, that I’ve always loved you.  That I thought you didn’t love me, because you were encouraging me to go, to take the MACUSA job.  But turns out, it’s just because you know me better than anyone. You know what I need to do.”

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Ominis turns to you, his hands tracing up and down your naked torso. “I never thought we’d get to do this,” he confesses. “And even if it took us until the last night of school, I’m glad we did.”

You press a fervent kiss to his lips, melting against him.  You only pull away when he laughs, blond hair shaking as he falls back against the bed.

“We are actual idiots,” Ominis says sheepishly. “Our very first time should’ve been more romantic.”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “There’s something incredibly romantic about a last chance confession.”

“I wish I’d told you sooner,” Ominis says, a pained expression painted on his face. “We could’ve had so much more time–”

You press a finger to his lips, silencing him.  He quirks his brow, questioning your actions.

“We have the rest of tonight,” you remind him, rolling onto your stomach.  You trace your hand against his cheek, your fingers dancing against his lips. He opens his mouth, indulgently sucking on your fingers as they dip inside. “Besides, I think I have to reciprocate the mind blowing head.” you joke, your now wet hand trailing back down to his length.

Ominis is hard again in seconds.

The music ended hours ago, and the house is calm. You wouldn’t know if anything was going on outside of Ominis’s door anyways; after your second round, Ominis had the good sense to cast a silencing charm on the room. 

Ominis slips out of you after fucking you on your side, his slow thrusts driving you to the brink of insanity.  Both of you are thoroughly spent; he knows that, reaching for his wand to summon a cloth.  He's attentive and gentle as he cleans you, murmuring praise of how well you've taken him and how incredible you feel. Once the two of you are semi-decent, he gathers a fresh tee shirt for you to slip over your head.  It’s well worn, letters stitched into the chest, and it smells like his cologne. You hold the collar to your nose; it’s very likely this shirt will be coming home with you.

Ominis tucks you into his arms as he pulls the duvet over your bodies, his warm breath tickling your ears as his breathing slows.

“I’m not sure how you’re going to walk across the graduation stage,” you joke, stifling a yawn.

“Will probably need Andrew to throw me across the stage at this point,” Ominis says.  His voice sounds thick with sleep, and you know he yearns to shut his eyes.  You’ve known him for so long, watched him nap in the hallways enough to recognize the tell-tale signs of Ominis Gaunt’s sleeping habits.

“I’m proud of you, you know that?” You whisper, hoping to catch him while he’s still awake. “You’re gonna go far, do amazing things. I’m so proud of you, and I love you.”

“I know,” Ominis lets out a sleepy sigh, heavy eyelids drooping.  “I love you too.”

Before long, Ominis is softly snoring in your ear.  Blinking your bleary eyes, you can see the dark sky turning lighter and lighter through the curtains.  It’s graduation day; in a few hours, Ominis will walk across the stage and move on to the next phase of his life.

Merlin, you hope to be part of the next chapter.

You jolt awake when you hear the door knob to Ominis’s room jiggling. The blond is still fast asleep, a smile on his face as he dreams.

“Ominis, wake up,” you groan. “It’s morning.”

“It was morning when we fell asleep,” he swats away at you, digging his face into the pillows.

“Well, it’s graduation morning.” You warn him. “We have to get ready–I have to go home, I have to change and shower.  You have to shower.”

“Shower here,” Ominis complains, tugging you back against his warm chest. “And you can shower with me.”

“I can’t go to your graduation wearing a bloody mini dress,” you scold him, rolling out of bed.  You tug open his dresser, pulling out a well worn sweater and some sweatpants. “There’s someone at the door too.”

“It’s me,” a muffled voice yells. “Wakey wakey, lovebirds!” 

Ominis flips back over in bed as you tug the sweater over your head, swinging the door open.  You’d recognize the Scottish lilt anywhere–it’s Sebastian, grinning broadly with a garment bag in hand.

“What is that?” You gape.

Sebastian pushes his way into the room, hanging the black bag between Ominis’s graduation robes. “Had a feeling you wouldn’t be going home last night,” he winks, unzipping the bag. “So I asked Imelda to pull together some options for you.  Picked them up this morning; there’s some bagels and coffee downstairs too.”

You’re embarrassed but thankful for your friends–Imelda has packed some tasteful day dresses, all appropriate for the event in mind.

Sebastian drops another bag onto the ground, sinking into the now up-right office chair. “She packed more appropriate heels.  Oh, and a bra and underwear. Thought you might’ve lost yours.”

“Get out,” Ominis groans, tossing a pillow at Sebastian.

The freckled bastard lets out a laugh, his whole body shaking as he dodges Ominis’s throw. “Best get in the shower, Mr. President.  Can’t have you walking across the stage to get your diploma with sex hair.” Sebastian waggles his eyebrows, and even though Ominis can’t see, he knows the expression on Sebastian’s face.

You hear your name from the doorframe, and both you and Sebastian turn to see who it is.  Lucan and Garreth are standing with bagels, idly observing the scene before them.

“Amit owes me ten galleons,” Garreth says, his mouth still full of his poppy seed bagel. “He said you’d never admit how you feel to Ominis–”

“That’s not what I said!” You hear Amit’s voice from down the hallway. “Garreth, don’t twist my words.”

Lucan pushes his way into the room, holding his bagel between his teeth. “Can I get in to measure now?” he asks, pulling his wand from his pocket. “I do think I could fit a nice little bar in the corner here–”

“Everyone out!” Ominis roars, standing up in just his boxer shorts. “Everyone who isn’t my girlfriend can fuck off.”

Instead of scattering, everyone freezes in place. 

“Girlfriend?” You squeak out.

Ominis’s furrowed brow softens, his cheeks heating up as he scratches the back of his neck.

“I assumed,” he said sheepishly. “When we said we loved each other.”

“Alright, nothing to see here folks.  Everyone go back to your knitting.” Sebastian says hastily, pulling Lucan into a headlock to drag him out of the room.  He pushes Garreth in the chest, and you hear several pairs of feet scrambling in the hallway–no doubt Amit, Andrew, and the others have congregated outside of Ominis’s door to eavesdrop.

Sebastian shoots you both a knowing look as he shuts the door behind him, leaving you alone with Ominis once more.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay.” Ominis croaks.  “I understand.  I’m leaving in a few days, it makes sense.”

You tiptoe over to him, placing a hand on his chest.  You can feel his heart hammering beneath you, one of his hands resting atop yours to keep it in place.

“What would being your girlfriend entail?” You ask slowly, nails dragging across his skin.

Ominis offers you a small smile. “Nothing has to change, not really.  Just that I get to tell you that I love you out loud.”

“And perhaps there will be space for me in New York.” You say slowly, chewing on your lower lip.

Ominis’s face lights up, tugging you in with a firm arm around your waist. “There will most definitely be space for you in New York,” he announces. “It’s only fitting that I make room for you, considering you’re the person who convinced me to go.”

“Your girlfriend,” you enunciate. 

“My girlfriend,” Ominis repeats back to you. It isn’t long before he’s kissing you, his tongue snaking its way into your mouth. You have to pull yourself back, eyeing the clock on Ominis’s desk.

“We have to shower,” you remind him, hands pressed against his chest. “Otherwise, I’ll be late to my boyfriend’s graduation ceremony.”

Ominis grins, pressing a quick kiss against your cheek.  He maneuvers over to his dresser, pulling out two clean towels.  Wand in hand, he slings the towels over his shoulder, his other hand outstretched to grab yours.

You fold your palm into his, following him out the door without a word.

The last week almost seems like a blur to you.  

That Sunday, you watched Ominis graduate university with honors, several stoles draped across his shoulders.  One from the honors college, another for his outstanding leadership.  The third looks a bit hodge-podge, but it’s the most important to him–a stole crafted by Sebastian and the others, crudely decorated in a way only twenty-something boys would do.  

The satin stole with the Gaunt family motto is promptly burned in the celebratory bonfire Lucan sets that night, all of you sitting around the fire pit with beers in hand.

Every day since then has been bliss.  You’ve only gone home once, packing a bag with a week’s worth of clothes while Imelda gives you smug looks. You’ve effectively moved into Ominis’s bedroom for one last week together.  It’s for practical reasons, you tell the others.  By day, you’re helping Ominis pack his belongings and bring whatever items he needs to donate to the university charity shop.  You even help him pack a cardboard box with any Gaunt family memorabilia, slapping a label to ship the useless trinkets back to Marvolo.  Ominis doesn’t need to rely on his family name anymore, at least not where he’s going.

The others come and go, but soon the new graduates start to move.  Amit and Andrew are the first to leave, off to start their ministry jobs.  Garreth follows shortly after, moving to a cottage in Cornwall to start his bulk potions business.  Come Friday, it’s just you, Ominis, and Sebastian left as the rest of the underclassmen have left for their summer holidays.

You enjoy one last night cooking dinner with your two best boys, tears pricking the corners of your eyes if you think too hard about how this might be the last time the three of you are in a room together for a while.  After dessert, Sebastian leaves the house to visit friends; more likely, he’s giving the two of you the house alone for your final night together.

You’d expect last night together to be frenetic, but Ominis’s love making remains slow and deliberate.  Ominis meant it when he said he wanted to remember every bit of you, his hands exploring your body as he makes you come several times in the night. You cry out the last time, exhausted but pawing at him for more.  

More, more, more. More time, most of all. 

Both of you cry a little, murmuring promises to each other before falling asleep.

When you wake, the air is melancholy.  The two of you move in silence, Ominis showering and packing the remnants of his suitcase. You put your dirty clothes from the week in your bag as well, and the two of you say goodbye to his little bedroom for the last time.  Ominis swallows thickly as you both get into the car, Sebastian choosing the passenger seat so the two of you can sit together in the back.

The airport isn’t too busy, which affords you time for a long farewell.  Ominis’s wand is safely concealed in a cane, and Sebastian slips a pair of sunglasses over his eyes so he fits in better with the muggles.  

“You have a new phone now,” Sebastian reminds him. “So don’t give me any excuses for not calling or texting.”

“I will,” Ominis promises. “Thank you, Sebastian.  I–” his voice cracks, and his eyes flutter as he swallows. “I’m glad I met you when I was eleven.” It's a simple sentence, but the words impart just how much Ominis loves Sebastian.

Sebastian whimpers, pulling his best friend, his brother into a hug.  You have to turn away, dabbing at your eyes as the two men say farewell after living together for over a decade.

“Alright, sod off,” Sebastian blurts, wiping at his nose. “Your turn to say goodbye, I can’t do this anymore.”

Ominis lets out a watery laugh as Sebastian meanders away, giving the two of you some time alone.  You don’t want to waste any of the precious seconds you have left with Ominis waffling, so you tug him into a tight embrace, your arms locking around his neck.

“I love you,” Ominis says against your hair. “I love you.”

 You’re kissing him all over his face, leaving tears in your wake. “I love you too,” you murmur. “Remember what I told you.”

“If you want to go far, you’ve got to go far.” Ominis mutters. “I’m doing this for me–for us.”

“Better save a drawer for me,” you whisper. 

“The very best one,” Ominis whispers back. “It’ll be there for you, next year.”

Sebastian nearly has to pry the two of you apart, reminding Ominis that his plane leaves within the hour and he still needs to get through security.  The steps the blond takes towards the line are rigid, his subconscious fighting the physical act of leaving.  But deep down, all of you know it–Ominis is going to do great things, and he’s going to do it without his family breathing down his neck, trying to force him to conform to their ways.

You feel a hand grabbing yours; it’s Sebastian, squeezing you tight as you both watch Ominis move through the line.  Minutes later, he’s waving goodbye, disappearing into the departures terminal.

You and Sebastian stay until Ominis’s blond head is no longer visible over the crowd.  

Finishing your dissertation is eating up all your free time, but you reserve an hour at the end of the day to talk to Ominis over his brand new phone.  The time difference is a bit jarring; sometimes you find yourself staying up well into the twilight hours to listen to Ominis ramble on about his job and the work they’ve done to protect international magical affairs.  He asks you how his brothers are doing, if Lucan has stirred any trouble yet.  You tell him all about how they still invite you to parties every weekend, and Lucan decided against building the wet bar in his room.  You talk about Sebastian’s rotations at St. Mungo’s and how the two of you still try to have dinner at least once a week despite your busy schedules. 

You tell him to save his money, but Ominis isn’t one to skimp out on gifts. He still sends owl post, care packages from his tiny apartment in New York.  After you tell him his fraternity letters are starting to wear thin, he sends you a New York t-shirt that smells like cool musk.  You start wearing it to bed every night; once the smell wears off, Ominis sends a bottle of his cologne as well.

Phone sex isn’t half bad either, you decide.  You come every time Ominis tells you to, gasping when you hear him touch himself on the other end of the line.

One day, Ominis sends you an e-mail about job requisitions at the MACUSA headquarters.  They have their own department of mysteries, Ominis explains. If you’re interested at all.

You apply and wait to hear back. I hope it’s not a conflict of interest that my boyfriend is the newest hot shot solicitor in the office of international affairs.

It isn’t, it turns out.  You’re offered a job interview over the winter holidays if you can make it to New York City in time.  Ominis sends you the ticket in your email, assuring you that he’ll pick you up from the airport.  He does exactly as he’s promised, and you laugh at how much he’s bundled himself up against the New York City snow.  When you leave the airport you laugh a little less, snow already getting into your shoes.  Ominis is a gentleman through and through, and carries you from the car up the stairs to his apartment lobby.

You think your interview at MACUSA has gone well, and you start enjoying all the walking you have to do to get around the city.  Ominis takes you to all his favorite restaurants, and he shows you the drawer he’s been saving for you.  His apartment feels like home, even if you have to squeeze past the dining table to get to the bed.  The two of you Facetime Sebastian from bed, the brunette recounting his shifts at St. Mungo’s in great detail.

“Say, do you have a hospital in the city?” Sebastian asks. “If she’s going, I want to come too.  We’re a package deal.”

Ominis rolls his eyes. “Of course there’s a hospital here, Sebastian. It’s not a primitive land. It’s New York, for Merlin's sake.”

You laugh, trying not to shake the phone as you try to keep Ominis in frame.

The week passes by too fast. Ominis brings you back to the airport, and this goodbye is even harder than the one after graduation. You find it nearly impossible to take your hands off him, his lips pressing kisses to your face.  

“It’s just a little while longer,” Ominis reminds you.

“We don’t even know if I’ll get it,” you shrug.

“You’re going to get it,” Ominis assures you. It feels like deja vu, as if you’ve had this conversation before.

About a week into the second term, you receive your job offer from MACUSA.

May arrives quicker than you thought it would.  You get a few less calls with Ominis during your finals week, and he promises to make it up to you somehow.  Even though you have a job offer, it’s contingent on you passing your final exams.  Ominis quizzes you through the phone while Sebastian brings you dinner between his shifts. It’s a group effort to get you across the finish line.

You pass, and you finally get to breathe a sigh of relief. The week of your graduation is filled with parties and celebrations, Lucan inviting you to come back to the house. It doesn’t feel as right without Sebastian or Ominis inside, so you don’t stay long.  Sebastian promises he'll try to be at your graduation, trading shifts with other healers.  On the other hand, Ominis is stuck in the middle of an important case.  You tell him not to worry, and that you'll see him in a week when you move.

Come graduation day, you’re standing in front of the theater, your diploma in hand. You feel your phone buzz in your pocket, and you pull it out to read your texts. You have one missed message from Sebastian.

Sorry I missed your ceremony.  Got called in to cover someone’s shift this morning.  I promise I’ll be at your dinner later tonight.  Oh, and I hope you enjoy your grad present xx

You furrow your brow, typing back a response.  You don’t remember anything about a present–

“Congratulations, darling.”

You look up, nearly dropping your phone in the process. A tall lithe blond clad in a three piece suit, a MACUSA pin on the lapel.  

Ominis smiles at you, a bouquet of sunflowers in hand.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @corrodedcoffinfest.

Let's Hear it For the Boy

Day #10 - Prompt: Pride | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | POV: Eddie | Pairing: Steddie | Tags: Famous Older Corroded Coffin, Pride Parade

Eddie tugs at the hem of his shirt, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. 

"What's wrong?" Steve asks, showing up behind Eddie in the mirror.

"Well, for starters, it's mesh," Eddie says, "and I feel a little on display.  I'm not exactly twenty-five anymore."

Steve runs his hands around Eddie's middle, hugging him from behind. 

"You look damn good and you know it," Steve says, fingers pressing into the bare skin of his stomach under the mesh crop-top.

Eddie isn't so sure about that, but he appreciates the thought, anyway. He doesn't have time to argue, because the hotel room door bangs open, and Gareth is standing there.

"How hot do I look?" Gareth asks, and Steve laughs as he heads over to greet him.

"So hot," Steve says, and Gareth twirls around, like he's a six-year-old girl and not a forty-six-year-old man. 

"Am I the first?" Gareth asks, and he is, nobody else has turned up yet and they are supposed to leave for the parade in ten minutes. 

Corroded Coffin was asked to be grand marshals of this year's Pride parade, and they decided to go for it. The community embraced Eddie long ago, and it's about time he really did something to pay that kindness back. 

Gareth is wearing the sparkliest eye makeup Eddie's ever seen, and Eddie lived through high school in the 80s. He could put Chrissy Cunningham to shame, Eddie thinks, and feels a pang in his chest. 

Before he can dwell on it, the door swings open again, and Goodie's there, decked out in all leather, his hairy belly on full display.

"Well, don't you look beary sexy?" Eddie teases, grinning ear-to-ear as Goodie tips his leather muir cap.

"You can call me daddy if you want, big boy," Goodie says, and Eddie would really rather not. And, using Eddie's turn of phrase against him, is honestly dirty pool.

"I think I'll pass," Eddie laughs, but he's impressed Goodie's gotten into this as much as he very clearly has. "Where's Jeff?"

"There was a pants problem," Goodie says, and that's as much as he chooses to elaborate, before adding, "Robin's helping."

And Steve laughs, which makes Eddie smile. He's sure they're both getting the same mental image of Robin trying to dress Jeff. Too tight pants? Split up the ass? Eddie doesn't know, but he's sure it's hilarious, either way.

"We can't be late, we're the grand marshals," Gareth says.

"We won't be late," Steve assures, and Eddie's sure that's true. Steve Harrington never lets them be late to anything. Hasn't yet, in nearly thirty years. He's not gonna start today.

They stand on the street corner and look out over the sea of color. Rainbow flags waving in every direction. Everything, and everyone, is just so bright. It's a vast change from looking out over the crowd at a Corroded Coffin show where the majority of clothing is just shades of blacker than black.

But this is full color. Everything about it is, and it's fun in a different way. A rainbow in every direction he looks. They're branching out, and Eddie is determined to embrace that. There's no reason not to, he figures, and they were invited for a reason. 

Because they were all wanted here.

The float they're supposed to get on is garish and bright, but everyone seems excited to see them, so Eddie smiles back. Accepts the hand offered to help him up onto the platform. Steve is with him, and with Steve, he can do anything. Even this. 

Jeff's stuck zipper problem fixed, Robin is now hugging person after person, and it's her they have to thank for this whole idea, Eddie knows. Without her, they'd have never been asked. Eddie's absolutely sure about that. And that's fine. This isn't really his scene. But if they want him to participate, wave a rainbow flag, whatever, he'll do it. It's the least he can do for the community that accepted him, and his friends, when that wasn't always a given. 

They didn't grow up in a time or place where being this out and proud was ever even conceived of, let alone done so publicly. So it's nice to see the change that has occurred in just a few decades of his lifetime. Things are different now, and that's pretty damn cool.

He may not want to be so front and center here, but being asked, being seen as some sort of gay icon, is flattering. He can't deny that.

The metal band, filled with members that are all some sort of queer, wasn't always destined to make it. They did anyway, beating the odds that were stacked against them. 

They built up a whole community around themselves, and later a fandom, honestly, that loves them for exactly who they are.

The music is pumping off the float, and it feels straight out of Babylon. The thumpa-thumpa, alive and well. Gareth's found some sort of rainbow streamers, and he's waving them above his head. 

Goodie has to be sweating buckets in all that leather in this heat, but he's standing at the edge of the float with Jeff, throwing out beads like it's Mardi Gras. Only, these are in rainbow colors. Jeff is wearing jean shorts that are cut so short, Eddie's scared anyone beneath him might be getting a free show. 

Steve's standing on a chair, clapping and screaming with the music, creating a chant, "Let's hear it for the boy!"

Eventually, this ends with a mic in Eddie's hand as he climbs up to the top of the float, where he can see and be seen.

He raises both hands over his head and waves, and hears the screaming pointed back in his direction.

He finds Steve's eyes, blows him a kiss, and tips his head back and laughs.

"Happy Pride!" Eddie screams into the mic, and the crowd goes wild. It's not a Corroded Coffin show, that's for damn sure, but he feels very loved.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @corrodedcoffinfest and follow along with the fun! 🦇

[vssail]

aventurine x fem! reader

warnings: boss x secretary, VERY out of character, reader is tired of avens gambling addiction

this is my first post here and also my first time trying to write something in english that isn't for school, so sorry if there are mistakes. hope someone likes it!

Many times you regretted picking up this job.

It was the 10th missing call you left to Aventurine. As always, he didn't picked the phone.

Sighing, you got up from your confy bed. You didn't even bother to change to proper clothes, judging by the time, almost 3 am, everyone at the casino would be too drunk to notice some girl walking in there in sleeping clothes. Your priority right now was to take Aventurine out of there and go back to your confy bed.

After a short ride in your car, you got in that demonic place. The bright lights were blinding you. You really hated casinos.

You didn't have to search too much to find the man you were looking for. A fight in the poker table was the only necessary hint you needed to find your boss. When you reached the scene, it was the same as always: some looser that doesn't accept his bad luck.

"There's no way you won five rounds in a row!" a guy shouted while holding the little peacock of your boss by the shirt collar.

This always happened, and you always appeared to save him from a beating. But this night you were tired, tired of all the paperwork he gave you last minute, tires of staying up because he didn't want to pick his fucking phone, tired for having to take the car at 3 am and tired of seeing the same scene every freaking night.

He saw you behind the guy, and a proud smile appeared on his face, thinking that you were going to save him like always. You could see his face change when he saw the guy holding him and you not moving to stop him. In your mind, this would be a good lesson for him to stop his bad habits.

Then, the first punch came, making his glasses to fly away of his face. That was the fact that changed your decision of not doing anything. With his eyes exposed to the angry looser, what you expected that was going to be some punches was going to turn into another thing beyond a game.

"A damn Avgin, I knew you were a liar!" he said. You could see your boss looking for you while trying to recover from the punch.

"I'm gonna beat you so hard that you-" he stopped talking to scream in pain from your sudden grip on his arm.

"He what, little fucker?" You encouradged him to continue. Aventurine was suddenly at your side, with that horrible proud smile again in his face.

After giving the guy a little warning to never mess up with your boss, you let him go.

"For a moment I though you were going to let me on my own" he joked.

"I was" you simply said, getting out of that damn place. You knew he would follow you.

"What?!" he shouted, stopping you in the hall of the casino "Why would you let that man beat me up? You know that if I'm dead, you won't be paid, right?"

Before speaking, you took a long, long breath, so you wouldn't scream at him.

"In my contract there's nothing about saving my boss at 3 am in casinos" you breathed again ", there's nothing about risking my own life to save him from fights." you didn't breathe this time "Do you know how much I sleep beetwin finishing the work that you give me in the last minute and searching for you?! For the love of the Aeons, I'm a secretary! I shouldn't be beating people up for you!"

You didn't notice, but you started crying in the first sentence. And you wouldn't notice if he didn't wipe the tears at your cheeks. You were too angry to let him touch you, and tried to push him away, but he got close again and hugged you. This time, you just accepted the hug, but didn't hug him back.

"I didn't know I was causing you so much stress and trouble," he whispered in your ear "I'm sorry for everything"

"Being sorry isn't enough"

"I know, just as you know that I can't promise you to stop gambling" he separated from you to see your face, and took off his jacket to put it over you (you didn't realise you were trembling) "but I can promise you that I'll try to control myself"

You didn't reply, just buried your face on his neck and hug him.

"When I started working with you and saw you risking your life like it is nothing, I wonder if you knew what self-love is" you asked, holding him tighter

"Why would I care about risking my life when no one cares?"

"I'm gonna kill you" you broke the hug and prepared to beat him.

"Wait wait wait, it's not the same as what I mean" he got away from you "you only care because I'm your boss"

"You little..." you breathed to calm yourself down "If i only cared about you professionaly, I wouldn't go to casinos in the middle of the night in sleeping clothes only to look for you and make sure that you're okay. You don't pay me enough to do all that shit"

He seemed to think about what you said.

"Do you mean that you do that because you care about me?"

He looked at you like he just had discovered a whole new galaxy.

"Yes"

"In a loving way?"

"Maybe, can we go now?" you started to get embarassed of all this sudden confession.

"Wait" he holded you, one hand in your arm and other on your cheek "That means that I can kiss you?"

You easily got away from his hold.

"Yes, but not tonight" you started to go to your car, taking your keys to open it "You won't get a kiss until you return every missing call that I left you this week"

"Oh, common!" he run after you, unable to hold back the genuine smile that appeared in his face.

I really went out of character but hope that someone likes this.