#he's never asked me something like that (i've been on the lookout for it) and this is a surprisingly.. easy? way to brush that off without

[skrunksthatwunk]

very funny that tonight is the night i dyked too close to the sun and at dinner my conservative grandpa asked me (sorta) if i was seeing anyone and then we get home and almost immediately start watching streets of fire to his enthusiasm when i kinda only remember that movie for the butch deuteragonist

[mydadleft471]

Envelop Me

Summary: Messmer begins to worry when he realizes he hasn't seen you at all today. Rushing to your chambers, he realizes that you're just on your period and need some comfort.

Spoilers for Elden Ring and Shadow of the Erdtree. No warnings, per usual. Just my boi being soft and caring for a fem! reader on her period.

Messmer lovers, I've brought an appetizer!

This fic was requested by anonymous! The request was, "Consider: Messmer x reader on their period, he's like a very large heat pack". GENIUS IDEA. Thank you for requesting, and I hope you like it :D

My requests are indeed open! I'm going to get started on my next request as soon as I post this, so be on the lookout for a new fic in the next few days.

Anywho, please enjoy! Thank you all for reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting on my works! Each and every one makes me wanna kick my feet and giggle fr.

Messmer was beginning to worry about you. Half the day had passed already and he hadn’t seen you out of your chambers. Normally, you’d make your way to him soon after you’d finished breakfast. Even if you planned on spending the day pouring over documents and books in his storehouse, you’d pay him a visit before departing. This was unusual behavior for you. Had he done something to upset you? Did you fall ill overnight? Surely not the latter; his servants would inform him right away of your state and would have taken you to the infirmary.

He decided that he couldn’t sit and wait on his throne for you anymore. He would come to your chambers himself and see what was preventing you from visiting him. Quickly making his way out of his dark chamber, he startles the Fire Knights standing guard outside his door. Taking the steps down two at a time and rushing through the hallways towards your quarters, he notices one of your usual servants standing worried outside your door. Noticing his presence, she bows and steps aside for him to enter.

“Has she come out of her chambers today?” Messmer tries to keep his voice even despite the uncertainty coursing through his veins like fire.

She shakes her head. “No, my Lord. I brought breakfast to her, per usual, and she only ate a little. I asked if she required assistance getting dressed, but she dismissed me and told me she wished to spend the day in bed.”

“And why was this not reported to me?” His eye narrows and the servant shrinks into herself. She looks like she wishes she could dissipate into thin air.

“Sincerest apologies, my Lord. I figured she simply wished to remain alone today. I asked if she was feeling ill, and she said that she was just very tired.”

He sighs. Sometimes, you would prefer to stay in bed all day, but you would come to Messmer’s chambers and you two would laze around together. He cannot recall a time where you would prefer to be alone. 

He sighs. “I understand. I will see what bothers her so.”

The servant bows and scurries off, leaving him alone before your door. Never before has he been so afraid to see you. With shaking hands, he raps on your door three times. He hears a faint shuffling of sheets coming from within the room.

“Yes?” He takes immense comfort in the fact that you are responding.

“Beloved, may I come in? I wish to see thee.”

He hears your voice quiver. “I am afraid I don’t feel very well today. I’m not sure I would make good company, My Lord.” 

“Whatever is the matter? Dost thou require a healer?” His snakes wrap themselves tighter around his frame, also worried for your wellbeing. They nose at your door, eager to see you.

“No, my love. I’m okay.” Your words come out strained, and his anxiety increases tenfold.

“I wish to see thee with my own eyes to ensure thy good health. Please, my beloved.” He would get on his knees and beg for you to let him in if he had to. He would do anything to know you were alright.

There is a beat of silence before you respond. “Come in.”

He opens the door so fast he almost twists the door off its hinges. He enters swiftly and closes the door, striding over to your side in hurried steps that echo off the marble floors. Messmer’s snakes incline themselves forward and it almost seems like they’re racing him to get to you first. When he arrives at your bedside, the sight he sees makes his heart drop.

You are wrapped in your sheets and comforter with sweat adorning your forehead. You wince in pain and he notices that you are curled in on yourself. You look at him with tired eyes and give him a small smile. His snakes flick their tongues into the air and they taste a hint of blood. Your blood. Messmer erupts in fury and his mind races a mile a minute. His serpents coil and hiss, looking around the room wildly for your attacker.

“What has happened? Who hast dared to hurt thee?!” He roars, summoning his spear. “Tell me now, beloved, and I will ensure they never cause thee pain again.” His voice bounces off the walls of your chamber and he is sure the entire keep can hear him, but he cannot bring himself to care.

You reach weakly for his hand and he immediately takes it, clutching it tightly. You feel the heat radiating off of him. You know you need to calm him down, and soon, lest he burn your favorite blanket to ash.

“No one has hurt me, my love. I’m alright.”

“My serpents smelled thy blood in the air. Who hast hurt thee so?” 

“Messmer, I’m on my period. Nobody hurt me.” You wince in pain once again.

He can’t believe he didn’t realize that sooner. In his defense, he thought someone had hurt his sweet consort.

“I see.” He gingerly sits down on the bed beside your crumpled form, still holding your hand. “I apologize if I frightened thee.” 

“It’s okay.” You squeeze his hand in reassurance. “You… do know what a period is, yes?”

He raises his brow. “Thou thinkest me a child?”

“No, not at all, I just didn’t know. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, lightning licks up your spine and radiates throughout your back. You curl in on yourself tighter and breathe heavily.

Messmer’s eye flicks wildly over your covered body. “What wouldst thou have me do? I refuse to stand idly by while thou suffers.”

“Can you come lay with me, please? I just want you to hold me.” Your sweet request has his heart fluttering in his chest.

Wordlessly, he walks over to the other side of the large bed and climbs in. He doesn’t want to ask you to move when you are clearly in so much pain. He shuffles over to you and pulls the blanket up to cover you both. He hovers next to you, unsure of how to hold you. He’s terrified of hurting you on accident.

You roll over and scoot closer to him, your body protesting the sudden movement. You lay your head on his chest and try to get comfortable on your side.

“How dost thou feel now?” He strokes your hair tentatively.

“A little better.” You continue to shift against him.

He sighs and tilts your chin up so you meet his gaze. It’s loving and tender. “Wouldst thou be comfortable laying on top of me?”

“I think so.”

He gently lifts your body until you are completely sprawled out on top of him on your stomach with your head in the middle of his chest. He places a large hand on your back and you feel immediate relief. Between the warmth of his body pressed against yours and his hand on your back, your muscles slowly begin to relax.

“You’re so warm…” You mumble into his chest.

“Dost thou require me to move? Have I made thee too warm?” His voice is laced with concern.

“No. It feels wonderful.” You nuzzle your head into him and sigh, content. He smiles and places a light kiss to the top of your head. His serpents nip at the blanket and pull it over you, then carefully wind over your shoulders and lie down.

“Why didst thou not send for me?” He traces small circles into your lower back. “I grew worried at your absence.”

“I’m sorry. I just felt like I wouldn’t be good company like this.”

“So thou would rather toil in isolation?”

“That’s very funny coming from you, my love.”

He rolls his eye. “Perhaps I am not the best example to live by when one is in such pain, but I wish to be of comfort, just as thou has been for me. I wish to care for thee, my beloved.”

You lean your head up to look at him and press a kiss to his lips. His cheeks redden from the simple gesture, as they always do. “You care for me plenty.”

“I am glad thou thinkest so.”

You shake your head and smile at him. “I know so. I refuse to hear anymore doubts from you.”

“Thou’rt demanding indeed, but I shall not stand against thy wishes, my Lady.”

You chuckle at him. “I also refuse to get up for another few hours.”

“Being late for dinner does not sound like thee.”

Your stomach grumbles at the mention of dinner, and Messmer laughs. 

“How much of the day did I spend wallowing away in misery?”

“About half. Dinner is not far away.”

“Good. I’m starving.”

A comfortable silence encompasses you both and all you can hear are your shared breaths. Messmer lazily flicks his wrist and your fireplace sparks to life. The flames hum and sway side-to-side, dancing. The black tendrils delicately wind their way up and around the flame in almost hypnotizing movements. You’ve always found Messmer’s fire to be beautiful.

You could stay here forever, wrapped in silk sheets and cozy blankets with your lover. His dominant hand caresses your back with feather-light touches and it lulls you into a drowsy haze. Your eyes flutter shut.

“Messmer?” Your voice is serene and quiet.

“Yes, beloved?”

“Do you think we could have dinner in bed? I don’t want to get up.”

He laughs genuinely, a sound you’ve grown to love. It makes you smile to see him happy and carefree. “That sounds like a wonderful idea.”

“You might have to wake me.”

“Though it pains me to disturb thy slumber, I shall, just for thee. Now, rest.” He brings his other hand to your hair and runs his nails across your scalp, making you shiver and relax even further into him.

“You spoil me.” 

“I know.”

There is nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

[covetyou]

baubles

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: ball fucking, ball sucking, balls, wall to wall all ball, BIV (ball in vagina), sex toys (the balldo [link to website] is real and it has haunted my dreams for 6 months - pic in this ask), there's some PIV too I guess. word count: too many and they're all balls 4.4k summary: Santa Joel fucks you with his balls. That's it.

A/N: I am NOT sorry. Not now, not ever. And, yes, I watched the instructional video on how to put it on, purely for Research Purposes. We don't talk about how long I've spent thinking about balls.

Happy Ball-idays, don't say I never got you anythin' nice.

...

Santa Joel-y, slip your ballsack right into me, oh gee.

I've been a fuckin' good girl,

Santa Joel-y, so stuff 'em up my chimney tonight.

...

It was your first Christmas in Texas and your first Christmas in a place that felt unseasonably warm for the time of year. That's what you tell yourself every night as you strip off completely before slinking into bed, at least.

Except, this night is different.

It's Christmas Eve.

And someone is in your house. You're sure of it.

A click of a button and you're on your feet, creeping to your bedroom door to listen out for the intruder. You almost didn't hear it, too preoccupied to be on the lookout for burglars on Christmas Eve.

There's a tell tale rustle, the stomp of feet. Whoever it is, they're not even trying to be quiet. You'd respect the brazenness of it all if someone hadn't broken into your damn house. You toy with calling the cops, maybe a neighbor, but you know it'll be too late by the time anyone gets here to do anything, so you make the stupid decision to head downstairs and confront the intruder alone.

Wrapping your flimsy bath robe around yourself, you grab the nearest makeshift weapon you can find (a broken umbrella you still hadn't thrown away) and click the door open, slinking out into the hallway and down the stairs.

If he hears you before you get down the stairs, he doesn't let on. But there, right in front of your Christmas tree is the unmistakable figure of a man. A big man. He's tall, and broad, and his silhouette is wrapped in something fluffy, making it look like there's a giant teddy bear standing in your living room.

You flick the light on, startling him, making him drop a heavy bag undoubtedly filled with your things onto the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh, shit."

A single ornament rolls out of the bag and across the floor. You both stand frozen and silent, watching it move until it knocks against your bare toes. Only when it's stopped do you drag your eyes back up to look at the man who broke into your house.

Your umbrella clatters to the floor.

"What the...?"

The man before you is dressed as Santa, hat and all.

Only this man was not as old as you would expect for someone claiming to be Santa Claus. His beard is patchy, the scruff around his chin only speckled with gray. He has lines around his eyes, crinkled divots in his skin from so many years of laughter. The red coat pulled around his form is unbelted, falling open at the middle to reveal a white vest and the soft swell of his belly.

"What the fuck are you doin' in my house?" you yell.

"Shh, quit your fuckin' hollerin'."

He takes a step toward you and you back into the wall, trying to keep your distance from the very Texan man who had broken into your house dressed as Santa on Christmas Eve.

And that's when you see behind him, to the glittering lights of your Christmas tree, and the branches covered in ornaments. Ornaments that did not belong to you. You'd bought the thing on sale at the grocery store just a week ago. When you put it up and plugged it in, grateful for the existence of pre-lit trees, you settled on the fact you wouldn't decorate it this year. Even so, it was beautiful as it was, and you enjoyed the soft glow of the lights in the evenings as you wound down after work. Now, that soft glow was accompanied by the twinkling reflections of the many ornaments hanging on it.

"Did you... did you decorate my tree?"

He looks at you like you're mad, and maybe you are. Maybe you came so hard on your vibrator upstairs that you passed out, and this is all a dream. A very vivid dream where you can smell the warm oaky scent of the man in front of you and feel the heat of him as he crowds you against the wall.

"What else do you think I've been doin'?" he says, as if it should be entirely obvious that he's been here decorating your tree all along.

"I don't know, maybe stealing my shit?"

He, once again, looks at you like you're stupid and gestures to his suit, red and velvety, draped around his body. It looks good on him, and does nothing to help the thick syrupy feeling still coursing through your veins. Having a man like him break into your house felt like one of lifes great injustices, but having him break in when you were mid-jerk off was purely inhumane. Other than point to the door and tell him to get out, there was nothing you could do but gape at him and hope he didn't notice you curl your toes as he looked at you.

He takes a step closer, heavy boot falling with a thud in front of you, and shrugs. "If you don't want it, I'll take it back."

Up this close, the smell of him goes straight to your head, your body seemingly ready and rearing to go at the slightest hint of something masculine in your presence. Your tongue suddenly feels too big and clumsy so, not trusting a single word that would come out of your mouth, you shake your head. You would actually, really, very much like the decorations to stay and the man who put them there.

Texas always felt hot to you, but something about this room was now super heating. You're keenly aware of the stickiness pooling between your thighs, and even more aware of the visible sheen of sweat on your head and the warmth in your cheeks. If he looked closely, he'd even be able to see glistening on your fingers, making you look glitter coated in the twinkle of the Christmas lights. You shift, trying to mask the buzzing in your veins at his eyes as they drag down your body.

You hadn't noticed the silky tie of your robe slowly loosen as you wiggled and fidgeted. You were too warm to notice when the fabric parted, gaping over your chest and giving him a perfect view of your tits. You were too busy staring into his deep brown eyes to notice him raise his hand.

You did, however, feel the moment his finger stroked a slow trail down the swell of your breast, puckering your nipple and making a shudder run through your spine.

"You're all unwrapped, darlin'," he whispers, just as you remember to breathe again. "S'gettin' a bit warm in here, huh?"

He absentmindedly discards his hat as his finger traces down your body, flicking the light back off behind you once his hat hits the floor. You know where he, and this, is heading, and you're not keen to stop it any time soon.

When his fingers stroke across your mound, you gasp. Your vibrator had made you sensitive, but you'd never had chance to finish the job, and now here he was threatening you with a good time. He cups you, completely engulfing your pussy in his broad hand, and slides it between your legs.

By now it's no secret you're already wet, your upper thighs already sticky with it. His fingers slide through with ease, the quirk of his eyebrow visible now his hat has been thrown to the side.

"Here I was thinkin' you were on the nice list. But this little thing right here tells me you're naughty as they come, darlin'. What you been doin' to yourself all alone up there in the dark?"

You're staring at him opened mouthed as he works is thick fingers over you, dragging slick over your already sensitive clit. You'd been moments away from coming when the noise from downstairs pulled you out of it, and now here he was working you back up and quickly.

"It's my house," you stutter. "Can do what I want." And right now you want to collapse into a heap on the floor with his fingers between your legs.

"That you can. You wanna go back up there and finish yourself off?"

Logically, you know your pre-orgasm desperation is clouding your judgement, that you should take him up on his offer to leave and put a stop to this, but there's something too enticing about him. You don't want to stop.

"Or do you maybe want a hand with your... Little problem?"

"Yeah," you're nodding, eyes so heavy now you want them to snap shut, but you can't resist looking at him in the glow of your Christmas lights. Red really suits him, and you swear you can see his cheeks get rosy in the dim lighting.

"S'good. Got some little problems here myself. But, seein' as you're already halfway there, seems only fair to get me to your level before we start anythin', don't you think?"

Biting your lip, you nod, taking a step closer to him. Tentatively, you reach out a hand and caress the front of his pants. They feel velvety soft, and you have no fucking clue how he doesn't look as sweaty as you feel.

"That's right. You feel that?"

You feel something grow beneath your palm. Big, thick, and heavy. You look down in stunned silence, seeing only the odd shadows cast by the Christmas tree lights sparkling over the front of his pants.

"Get on your knees and close your eyes."

You obey, wanting very much to stay on the nice list now that you know exactly what you want for Christmas. His belt jingles as he undoes the buckle, pulling it from his waist and discarding it on top of his bag. He can't resist giving his dick a quick squeeze over the fabric of his pants at the sight of your bare chest heaving in the twinkling light, before unzipping them and letting them fall down to his ankles. The fabric is so loose he can step out of them, easily tugging his booted feet from the legs.

It doesn't go unnoticed that you spend the entire time eyes closed, listening attentively, and gently rocking your hips, discreetly humping the air in a desperate attempt to find any kind of relief.

"Tsk, got an impatient one on our hands."

The same hand he'd been stroking your pussy with wraps around his cock, slowly dragging his sticky fingers up and down his rapidly hardening length. He wishes he'd told you to strip, or left the light on so he could see you more clearly, but something about your skin under the sparkling lights and the shadows cast between your legs is making him harder more quickly than ever. When his dick twitches in his hand at your deep sigh, he finally stops staring and speaks.

"Open your eyes."

You snap them open, eager to see what he has for you, and your eyes immediately turn the size of dinner plates.

His cock gorgeous, and even in the grip of his large hand it looks big. He's long, thick with a slight upward curve and a smattering of salt and pepper hair at the base. You're fairly certain he trims it, keeping it well groomed and flush to his skin, making his cock appear even larger as it juts out infront of him.

But, despite the gloriousness of this mans cock, what you can't get over are his balls. They're heavy, and full, and getting tighter and tighter as his cock hardens under your gaze. You flick your eyes up to his face and he has a knowing smirk pulling at his lips.

"Fuck," you say as you look back down at it, at them, and let out a shaky breath.

His whole body shakes with a laugh, jingling his bells, as you take in his length. Hand never leaving his cock, his gentle strokes become firmer, and he's guiding the tip toward your face a moment later.

"What should I call you?" you ask, realizing you don't even know his name yet, just as his tip touches to your lips. Exhilarating as it was to fuck a man who had broke into your house, you still wanted to know his name, and not even to press charges - you wanted to know what to scream when you came.

"Santa works just fine."

Pulling back, you scoff, "You want me to call you Santa Claus?"

"Fuck no! Do I look like a Claus to you? S'Joel."

"Santa Joel?"

"Fuck yeah darlin', now open up."

You stick out your tongue, waiting for his cock to slide along the spit slicked muscle. He drags his tip across it, letting you lick at his head before you capture his cock in your mouth, sucking it in and flicking your tongue lightly on his frenulum. The salty sweet taste of him makes you crave more, so you draw him further into your mouth, sliding up and down his cock as he stares down at you with an open mouth.

Dragging your hands up his bare thighs, you grab the base of his cock with one, steadying him as you suck. You tickle the other across his balls, looking up at him as he pulls in a sharp breath, before grabbing them and massaging them. His balls feel entirely smooth to the touch, and you have an irresistible urge to put them in your mouth.

Dragging your lips back from his cock, you lick broadly up the length of it again and again until you're dragging your tongue across his ballsack, slowly trailing up his cock to his tip, watching him all the while. Then you kiss his balls, humming in satisfaction as you finally press your lips to the soft skin.

The sight of you on your knees, making out with his balls is sending him stupid, and all he can do is stare down at you with a look of deep concentration on his face. If he's not careful, he's going to blow his load early, coming in your hand before he even gets to fuck you.

He watches you lightly drag your teeth over his delicate ball skin. He swears he sees your eyes flicker with something deserving of the naughty list when you hear his intake of breath, but he's too preoccupied by your tongue lathing across them to take much notice. You take it in turns with them, sucking each ball into your mouth as you slowly pump his cock in your fist, before releasing and working on the other. By the time you've had enough, his cock is dripping, smearing pre-cum over your hand as you jerk him.

Licking the drippy mess off of your hand, you look up at him, savouring the taste of his cum in your mouth.

"Please tell me you want to fuck me," you say, biting down on your swollen lips. You don't know what you'll do if he says no now, you know going back upstairs to your vibrator just won't cut it, even if you now have the fantasy of kissing Santa's balls to get off to.

"You kiddin' me, darlin'? Get up here."

Relief and desperation wash through you, and you climb off your aching knees, letting your robe fall from your arms.

"Couch?" you say, keeping a firm grip on his cock as you stroke up his chest. He pulls you toward him, holding the back of your neck as he kisses you, tasting his cum and balls on your tongue. His lips are impossibly soft, just like his balls, a stark contrast to the scratch of his beard.

Moving to the couch, you bend over, wiggling your bare ass for him. He chuckles, stepping closer to you and marvelling at the lights dancing over your jiggling backside. He shucks off his own coat now, leaving him in just his vest and boots, and hones in on the peek of your pussy from between your legs.

Sliding his length up and down your slit he groans, gripping your hip in his massive hand just as he notches at your entrance.

"Well, shit, that's nice," he says, sliding his tip into you.

You're inclined to agree - it had been a long time since anyone other than yourself had fucked you, and the red hot feeling of his hard cock in you felt better than you remembered. He rocks his hips a little, drenching his cock in you bit by bit until he's fully sheathed inside your eager pussy. The solid beat of your heart throbs through your veins and straight to your core, making you clench around him as he begins to fuck you.

"You're gonna yank my dick clean off if you keep that up."

"Can't help it," you moan, "Feels so good." You let your eyes close, succumbing to the slow, steady, pleasure building in you.

Snapping his hips more firmly, he bottoms out in you over and over, pushing deep inside you with each thrust. You can feel his wet balls slap against you, rhythmically whacking into your clit, but it's not enough. You're so desperate to come you lick your fingers and reach between your legs, swiping your digits over your clit. His balls instead slap against your fingers and you can't resist trying to stroke them again.

The noises you're making are going straight to Joel's dick, and he knows he's going to blow his snowy load way before he's ready if you don't stop, so he pulls away from you. You protest as his cock slides out of you, leaving you empty and still desperate to come.

"Got a present for you," he pants from behind you.

"The ornaments?"

"Yeah. Got some real pretty baubles for you, darlin'. You'll like 'em. I promise."

He goes to his bag, long forgotten on the floor, and bends over it. You watch his soft ass and the swing of his dick and balls as he rummages around inside the sack, pulling out two things before standing up. When he doesn't immediately turn back around, clearly playing with his own cock, you start to worry that you're not satisfying him. But then he rounds on you and you see his cock and balls glisten wetly in the twinkling Christmas lights just as he throws a bottle at you. Lube.

Catching him opening another box, you gasp and draw your hand to your chest in mock shock.

"Is that not my present to open?" you say coyly, now trickling lube over your own pussy. You don't need it, but whatever he has in mind clearly calls for it.

"Good things come to those who wait."

"I'm still waiting for the coming part."

He shoots you a admonishing look and you raise your hands in surrender, before snaking one back down to keep rubbing at your clit. You're about to go mad if you don't come soon, your clit is so sensitive, a firm nub between your legs now, and your pussy so puffy from so much stimulation. It's a wonder you have any blood left in your brain at all.

The object in the box is revealed, and you can do nothing but gape at it as Santa Joel proudly holds it up with a hand on his hip.

It looks like a torpedo cockring hybrid, and you have no fucking clue what it is.

"Get yourself comfy, gotta strap myself in."

Laying back on your couch - for all its flaws, an armless couch certainly had its benefits - you spread your legs and watch him with curiousity. You still can't work out what it is.

"What is -"

And then he stretches the silicone underneath his balls, pushing each ball into the cage with his thumbs before letting go. Oh.

Oh. "Oh."

You sit in stunned silence. He's turned his balls into a dick or, more accurately, a dildo. With the length of it and the girth of his balls, you can only imagine what it's going to feel like.

"If you don't fuck me with that in the next two seconds I'm gonna scream."

With the contraption strapped around his balls, pulling them down and taught, crouches over you, pushing your legs back so your pussy is pointing skyward like a sloppy wet landing pad for his balls.

He dunks the tip of the dildo into your pussy. It's cold and unfamiliar, not like the velvety warmth of his dick that stands straight ahead of you, taunting you with its glistening tip. If you could fold yourself in a pretzel you would, just to suck the head of his cock back into your mouth.

He pushes down, squatting over you with bare legs, sheathing the entire dildo into you. Another push and you feel the swell of his balls as they pop past your entrance and nestle themselves inside of you.

You gasp. The feeling is wholly unfamiliar, but still you feel yourself soaking him, slicking up his balls as they sit in your pussy.

"That hurtin'?"

"No. No, it's just I- I've never had someone's balls in me before."

"A first ball fuckin' for this little pussy," he says affectionately, stroking a thumb over your lips as they wrap themselves around his balls. His cock is protruding out of you now, like you're wearing a life like strap, and you really wish you could reach to taste where his tip threatens to drip onto you. Suddenly you understand the boys back in highschool and their failed attempts to suck their own dicks.

"They feel so big inside," you moan as he begins to gently shift above you. He pops out of you once, and pushes back in, and you throw your head back onto the soft sofa woth a moan. You have never felt anything like this. "Joel, please don't stop. Please keep fucking me with your balls."

"You got it darlin'," his voice is soft, in awe of you as you take his balls and the toy deep inside you. You feel incredible, and the wet slip of your walls on his ball skin shoots straight down his dick, and for a moment he thinks he's accidentally came too early. A quick look from your face, contorting with the fullness in your pussy, down to where his dick sticks outward, tells him otherwise. Thank fuck. He knows he has to get you off quickly. You were soaking his dick not too long ago, and before that his fingers, and before that your own sheets upstairs. You were ready, and he was nothing if not a giving man.

His thumb finds your clit, slippery from lube and your own slick, and he circles it, applying a firm pressure as he moves.

"Oh my god, that's it," you plead, opening your eyes to look at where he plays with you, balls still sunk deep.

You spur him on, rocking your hips as much as you can with your legs back, fucking yourself on his balls as he strokes your clit. You feel your pussy tense, little spasms warning you of what's to come, and you hold on tight to your own legs.

"That's it darlin'. Come on my balls. Squeeze 'em."

"F-fuuuck."

The swipe of his thumb sends you over, and you come hard on his balls with your head back and eyes squeezed shut. Your legs shake and you know he can feel how you twitch and spasm around his balls, drenching them as he dunks them in you, shallowly thrusting them as you tighten and grip him hard.

He's holding your legs back for you, looking you in the eye as he bends forward over your limp body when you open your eyes. The feral look on his face tells you he hasn't come yet, and you're desperate to see when he does.

"You been so nice I'm gonna give you an extra present. You ready?"

"Please Santa Joel, I've been so good this year," you say with a soft smirk.

He soon wipes the smirk off your face when he fucks down into you harder, practically bouncing off your ass as he slots his swollen balls into your pussy. They feel so big and heavy inside you, and even strapped down and pulled tight by the toy, you feel his balls tighten and try to draw up closer to his cock as he gets closer to coming.

"Come on me. Please. Come on me," you beg, staring between his cock and his face. Pre-cum had been steadily dripping onto you, splattering your belly, but you were hungry for more.

His fingers grip around his flushed head, stroking easily over the slicked surface. Pushing his balls deep, he bounces gently, loving the feel of his sensitive ball skin inside of your soaked hole.

"Here it comes, darlin'. Oh shit."

"Yeah, come on me. Come all over me Joel."

"Shit. Fuck."

You watch his slit as it seems to wink at you before ropes of come spurt out of the tip, shooting across your chest and neck, spattering your face and even your hair with his cum.

"Yes, yes, thank you," your eyes have snapped shut. You can feel the warm trickle of cum by your eyebrow, and you're not keen to feel the sting of semen in your eye.

For a little while he looks at you, fucked out by his balls and laying boneless on your couch. With a soft pop he pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty without his balls in you. Your legs flop down and you listen to his deep breaths.

"Nothin' like a ballgasm," he pants.

Nothing like being ballfucked, you think, but the words are heavy in your mouth and you do nothing but moan, mumbling some nonsense.

"Mm... balls. They... mm. Yeah. Good."

"Too fucked out, huh?" he laughs, before swiping the cum from near your eye. "Make a Christmas wish," and he slips the finger into your waiting mouth.

He slides his finger from your mouth and you murmur a thank you as you make your wish, sighing and letting yourself relax completely for a moment.

When you tentatively open your eyes, wary of any errant drops of cum, he's gone, disappeared as soon as he'd arrived. You didn't hear the door, the window, anything. You certainly didn't hear him get dressed.

Feeling stupid, and like maybe it was all just a dream, you rush to the window. You don't expect to see anything, the man feeling too magical to have been real. But, there he is, walking down the street bare assed, his pants slung over his shoulder and his balls still swinging strapped into the toy.

No, you don't think you'll be forgetting your first Christmas in Texas any time soon at all.

next part

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[bigball-thefrog]

The Calm After The Storm: Law X Reader

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Hello hello, I'm back again with something else this week! Now that I'm finished with Dressrosa I can finally start writing for Law which I've been wanting to do for awhile so here, have this and I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings/Tags:

Spoilers for Dressrosa if you haven't finished it

Fluff

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Narrator POV

It was the day after the events that took place in Dressrosa. You, the Strawhats, Law and a few others were all hiding in Kyros' cottage, recovering and staying away from the Marines.

The you thankfully didn't receive any major injuries so you could move after a few hours. Which helped since the cottage was a bit cramped and noisy. The cottage was situated in the middle of a large and beautiful flower field. Making the excuse of watching out for marines, you left the cottage and wondered around the field, you found a nice shady spot on the edge of the field and sat down to watch the clouds. A calm breeze hit your face and you closed your eyes, everything was perfect, Doflamingo was in jail, the citizens of Dressrosa were happy again with their old king, the marines hadn't found you... Everything right now, was just right. Until you heard footsteps coming close to you. You readied your Haki/devilfruit/weapon in case it was the marines attacking. Luckily when you looked up you saw that it was just Law walking towards you with a small limp.

You instantly relaxed and lowered your guard again. Law made it next to you and sat down. "Glad to see you moving around" you said as you leaned back against a tree. Law was slightly hunched over a bit as he spoke, "Mm... I knew you weren't really sitting out here for lookout and decided to steal your idea of coming out here for quiet." you chuckled have looked back at him. Your eyes wondered around his figure and landed on the bullet wounds where Doflamingo shot him. Your hand instinctively reached out to feel around him but Law moved back and raised an eyebrow at you. You lowered your hand and mumbled out an apology, Law relaxed again but still kept his eyes on you. You raised your hand again, "May I?" Law debated but sighed and agreed. Your hand reached out and began to gently trace the edges of the bullet wounds. Feather soft touches, gently grazing around the wounds but never over them. Law's body instinctively twitched a few times but you felt him relaxed when he let out a quiet groan and leaned back against the tree behind you two. "I don't know how you can walk after injuries like this, I know that little fairy princess helped but it must still hurt a lot..." you said and finally took your hand away. Law looked back at you, a small smirk tugged at his lips, "It's not the worst pain I've been through. If you have enough emotional pain it numbs the physical pain." "Well you're stronger than me, I probably would've still be stuck in bed if I went what you went through yesterday" you chuckled and Law's smirked widened.

You both fell into a comfortable silence for a but until Law spoke up, "Do ou mind if I take a nap here?" He asked. You nodded and said 'of course' since this was a perfect place to rest. What you didn't expect was for Law to move closer to you, take off his hat and lay his head down on your lap. You were very surprised but didn't move him. Law's eyes closed and just watched as he began to relax and sleep on your lap. You sat back and relaxed in the moment. Everything was calm... Everything was peaceful... Everything was perfect... You ran your hand over the grass and a flower got caught between your fingers. You carefully picked it and examined it, a small white flower, how cute, then your eyes landed on Law and an even cuter idea came into your head. You gently placed the flower in Law's hair close to his ear, Law almost instantly noticed this and looked back at you. "What are you doing?" He asked as he narrowed his eyes at you, "Oh, I'm just playing with your hair.... If it's okay with you...?" You said as you tried to maintain eye contact and not look at the flower in his hair. Law seemed to believe your lie and simply nodded before laying his head back onto your lap. Seeing he believed you, a smirk grew on your face as another idea grew in your mind.

Flower after flower, you kept picking them and carefully placing them in his hair. Small ones, bugger ones, and each time Law thought you were just playing with his hair. Pretty soon, his hair just looked like a bouquet of flowers, you gently ran your hand over them which caused Law to stir. He sat back up and rubbed his eyes, "We should probably get back before they fund us..." He said and reached out to put his hat back on. Not wanting the flowers to fall out you quickly grabbed it and put it on yourself, Law raised an eyebrow and you awkwardly smiled, "I think it looks better on me! Ehehe...." Law scowled slightly and mumbled something under his breath before getting up and walking back to the cottage.

You breathed a sigh of relief and took a minute to calm your giggles before going back yourself. Once you got close enough you heard echoes of laughter coming from the cottage and Law standing frozen by the door. You quickly hurried up and saw Law looking distressed while everyone in the cottage laughed at him because of the flowers in his hair, eventually when everyone calmed down Robin handed him a compact mirror and Law opened it to see all the flowers in his hair. His distraught turned to anger as he quickly shook all the flowers out his hair then slowly turned towards you. You gulped and took off running back to the field but it didn't help when Law used his Devilfruit to teleport right in front of you and grabbed your arm. You screeched and froze, Law then let go of your arm but grabbed your face and squished your cheeks tightly. He looked like he was about to kill you so you just started sputtering out apologies but he remained quiet as he reached out and took his hat off your head. "You're lucky you're cute..." He muttered so only you two could hear before squeezing your cheeks again then letting go. He put his hat on and looked back at your now confused look, scoffed and walked back. You stood there bewildered and your heart racing, you just got away with pranking him and he even called you cute! Your cheeks heated up and you looked back at Law, a small smirk tugged at his lips as he went back inside after leaving you flustered.

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If I don't have any requests by next week then I'll post the last part of my Slasher Lucci X Reader but don't be afraid to request because I'll still happily write it! See you all next week

Kelly🐸

[wasteddmoondust]

the universe || sirius black

pairing: sirius black x reader 1.2k words, soulmate au, angst (i tried, really), happy ending, some language from this request! :) a/n: AHH i hope you really like this, i haven't written this much before but i think it was a good challenge!

Sirius feels like he shouldn't have looked. But he stares at the four little paw prints tattooed on your left shoulder blade, identical to the one he has.

But that was the thing with soulmates, wasn't it? One can never control how it happens, they just do. It was already written. He was meant to see this, and he's meant to do something about it.

There's a sinking feeling in his chest. He's not sure if he wants to do something about it.

Sirius doesn't believe in soulmates. At least that's what he wants himself to think.

It's too much commitment, he usually says to himself. Why can't I choose who I want to be with?

I've been following rules my whole life. What does the universe know about me and who I'm meant to be with? For the rest of my life? Who would want to be with me that long?

I'm not a good enough person, let alone for Y/N.

Who would even want to love someone like me?

That's usually where the thinking stops.

So he decides for himself. Going out to parties to pick and choose which girls to make out with. No strings attached, just his physical desires to be satisfied.

He knows it's massed up, even more so when you're at said parties, keeping a lookout for someone with your matching tattoo. And so Sirius keeps his shoulder covered. You don't know he's your soulmate, and a part of his never wants you to.

Unfortunately, you're good friends, and he doesn't want you getting hurt over the fact he doesn't want a soulmate.

By the time he's done sticking his tongue down another girl's throat, he usually hears that you've decided to call it an early night.

It all comes crashing down one New Year's Day.

It's the adrenaline of counting down in the very crowded room, and the feeling of someone grabbing him to be their New Year's kiss. Everyone welcomes the start of a new era with a cheer.

The party goes well into the night before Sirius decides to finally crash in his room. He immediately falls asleep as his head hits the pillow.

He wakes up with the usual hangover headache, but nothing a bowl of ice water can't fix. A quick shower and a carton of juice later, he checks his phone for his missed notifications.

Moony: wake up, get to the hospital now. Moony: Sirius where are you??? Moony: we're outside room 402 when you get here. Prongs: Y/N's sick again, we're heading home Prongs: she won't stop throwing up idk what to do Prongs: we're going to the emergency room Prongs: call me when you see this Lilypad: James and i are going to the hospital with Y/N, call us when you see this Lilypad: Sirius if you do not wake the fuck up right now i will actually come for your throat.

Sirius doesn't think he's gotten ready so quickly in his life. To be fair, he was still in his pyjamas, just adding his leather jacket and running out of the door with his keys, wallet and phone in hand.

When he arrives, he sees his three friends outside of the room you're in.

"What happened?" he asks, panting from all the running.

"They don't for sure know yet," Remus says, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.

Lily is sitting on the chair, her hair is tied messily in a ponytail. "They think it's soul-repelling."

Sirius furrows his brows, "What does that mean?"

"My parents talked about it once," James says from his seat next to Lily. "They used to talk about stories of people who constantly reject the soul bond they had with their soulmate, which would cause the other person to be very sick. Or in worse cases, die."

Lily visibly hates the way James says it, and he knows it. He tries to comfort her by holding her hand, their matching flower tattoos on their hands side-by-side.

"...But she doesn't know her soulmate yet?" Sirius asks carefully, trying to sound normal.

James shrugs. "She may not, but they say the way her body is reacting means her soulmates knows it's her."

Sirius feels his breath knock out, his heart pounding, realising what he's done. He's been rejecting their bond the entire time. All the while he thought he was doing himself a favour, he made her suffer for his selfish needs.

The ache in his heart is undeniable. He grabs the fabric that covers his heart and feels his breath get heavier.

"Sirius?" Remus calls, noticing his actions.

"It's- it's my fault..." Sirius feels tears start to prick at his eyes.

"What?"

"It was me," he starts to remove his jacket and shirt, showing the tattoo on his shoulder for the first time. "It's me-" his voice cracks. He turns to the door, "I need to get in there."

"Woah wait- Sirius!"

But he bursts through the door to the ward. He runs in and the first thing he notices is you staring at him, paler than he's ever seen you before. You have eyebags and you're heaving, as if you'd just thrown up before he came in.

The nurse next to you speaks up, "Sir, you can't be in here yet-"

"I'm sorry!" he yells, grabbing your hand and bending over the bed. He buries his face in your chest.

"Sirius?" you whisper, confused, but you finally see the print on his shoulder. "Oh."

"I've known for the longest time and that was so selfish of me. And it's still so selfish of me to want you still," tears are fully flowing down his cheeks now. "I've realised I cannot lose you. But would you allow me to be selfish one more time and ask for you to forgive me?"

If anything, you're too stunned to speak. One minute you were throwing your guts up and suddenly your best friend is crying in front of you and he's also your soulmate.

But at the same time, you start to feel your body be at ease. The nausea is already starting to subside. His warm hand in your cold one feels nice. Like two puzzle pieces finding each other.

You cough, feeling your throat finally clear. You look down, and SIrius is still crying, his question still hangs in the air. He waits for your answer.

"I hope you know you have a lot of making up to do after this," you say softly, smiling.

He heaves the biggest sigh of relief. He leans towards your hands and kisses them. "Of course, anything for you. Oh thank god."

You chuckle. "I'm so glad it's you, actually. I had a feeling."

He looks up at you, "Really? How'd you know?"

You shrug. "Just a feeling I guess. Probably a soulmate thing."

He smiles, the universe has his back, he thinks. "Can I kiss you?" He asks.

"Sirius I just threw up, I'm not letting you taste whatever is in my mouth right now," you say. "But the rest of my face is available."

He opts to kiss your cheek instead. And something in him clicks. It feels normal, it feels right.

Yeah, the universe definitely knew what they were doing.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (see full series list here)

1994

I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.

That's what Harry had written in his note to you and Sirius — and also in notes to Ron and Hermione too.

The pair of you had been livid, of course — "this is what happens when he's left alone with those people!" — and three days later, you stand on the doorstep to Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging with a group of other Order members.

"Alohomora," you say, pushing the door open. You make your way into the hallway, all the lights turned off.

Tonks lets out a whistle at a stack of antique decorative plates on a table beside her. "Wow, look at these plates, they're proper fancy! Just look — "

She immediately drops it with a crash.

"Oops," she says, repairing it with a wave of her wand.

You make your way up the stairs, unlocking the door with your wand while the others wait at the bottom of the stairs. Harry slowly emerges from the room, poking his head out the door, wand clutched tightly in his hand.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody growls.

Harry doesn't lower his wand. "Professor Moody?"

"I don't know so much about 'Professor'. Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry still doesn't move, clearly wary of your party.

"It's alright, Harry," you say gently. "We've come to take you away."

"P-professor?" he says disbelievingly. "Is that you?"

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" Tonks says. "Lumos."

The tip of Tonks's wand flares, illuminating the hall with light. You beam at the sight of your godson, already looking older than when you last seen him.

You stride forward and wrap him in a tight hug, beaming. "Good to see you, Harry."

"Yeah, you too..."

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," Tonks says excitedly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," Kingsley Shacklebolt says from the back. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," Dedalus Diggle wheezes. "Lily's eyes."

Moody squints suspiciously at Harry, his magical eye pointed towards him searchingly. "Are you quite sure it's him? It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater personating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" Remus asks.

"A stag," Harry answers nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye."

Harry descends the stairs, still looking a bit confused, stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he goes.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" Moody roars immediately. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost a buttock, you know!"

"Who do you know that's lost a buttock?" Tonks asks curiously

"Never you mind, just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" he barks, hobbling off to the kitchen. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore..."

Wow, how many times did you hear that during your training?

"And I saw that," Moody adds irritably as you roll your eyes at the ceiling.

Remus holds out his hand and shakes Harry's. "How are you?"

"Fine..." Harry replies, looking as though he's still in shock at what's going on.

"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." he mumbles.

"Lucky, ha!" Tonks exclaims, grinning. "It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now...or so they think."

She winks at you and you smile back, remembering the side-splitting laughter that had infected you as the two of you cooked up that idea a few nights previous.

"We are leaving, aren't we?" Harry asks. "Soon?"

"Almost at once," Remus says. "We're just waiting for the all-clear."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asks hopefully.

You shake your head. "No, not the Burrow." You follow Moody into the kitchen, the group of Order members walking in after you. "Too risky. We're set up headquarters somewhere else, somewhere undetectable."

Moody sits at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, taking in the many electrical appliances in the Dursleys' kitchen.

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Remus tells, pointing toward him.

"Yeah, I know."

"And this is Nymphadora — "

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks says with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

" — Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Remus finishes, glancing at Tonks.

She folds her arms. "So would you if your fool of a mother called you Nymphadora."

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt," Remus continues. "Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle — "

"We've met before," squeaks Diggle, dropping his top hat excitedly.

" — Emmeline Vance — Sturgis Podmore — and Hestia Jones."

Harry nods awkwardly at each of them in turn.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come get you," Remus says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," Moody says darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," Remus explains, glancing out the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" Tonks says as she looks around the kitchen with heat interest. "My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?"

"Uh — yeah," says Harry, turning to you. "What's going on, I haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol — ?"

Several of the witches and wizards make odd hissing noises and Moody growls, "Shut up!"

"What?"

"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," Moody explains, looking around him warily with his magical eye.

"We can talk about it once we're back at headquarters," you say.

"How're we getting there?"

"Brooms," Remus replies. "Only way. You're too young to apparate, they'll be watching the Floo Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey."

"She says you're a good flier," Kingsley says, gesturing to you.

"He's excellent," you reply proudly, smiling at Harry.

Remus glances down at his watch. "You better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," Tonks says brightly, following Harry upstairs to his bedroom.

Remus pulls an envelope and piece of parchment out of his pocket, bending over the kitchen table to start scribbling something down. You walk around the room, looking at different photos of the Dursleys.

Baby Dudley, with a proud Petunia and Vernon standing over him; Petunia and Vernon on their wedding day; several more photos of Dudley growing up — there's an obvious absence of Harry. If a stranger were to walk into this room without knowing anything about the Dursleys beforehand, they would never know Harry even exists.

"What a strange device!" Podmore exclaims, curiously opening and closing the kitchen microwave while Kingsley stands behind him. He waves you over. "What does it do?"

Because of your Muggle father, you are often questioned on Muggle items and customs — though usually by Arthur Weasley.

"It cooks food," you reply. "It's called a microwave."

"A microwave..." Kingsley repeats thoughtfully, opening the door and peering inside with immense interest.

Nearby, Hestia laughs at a potato peeler that she came across in one of the drawers. You give her a look, confused as to what could possibly be so humourous about a potato peeler, but she just continues to snicker and giggle as she turns it over in her hands.

"Excellent," Remus says when Harry and Tonks return, Harry's trunk bobbing along in the air behind them. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a note telling your aunt and uncle not to worry — "

"They won't," says Harry.

"That you're safe — "

"That'll just depress them."

" — and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?"

Remus smiles but doesn't answer.

"Come here, boy," Moody says gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

Harry's brows knit nervously. "You need to what?"

"Disillusionment Charm," Moody replies, raising his wand. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go — "

He raps Harry hard on the top of his head and Harry's body takes on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him, like some sort of human chameleon.

"Nice one, Mad-Eye," Tonks says appreciatively, and Harry looks down in surprise, spinning in place as he surveys his new look.

"Come on," Moody says, moving towards the back door and unlocking it with his wand.

You all step out onto the Dursleys' impeccably well-kept lawn. It looks practically untouched — a contender for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition indeed.

"Clear night," Moody grumbles, peering up into the dark sky above. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barks at Harry, pointing his finger at him, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed — "

"Is that likely?" Harry asks apprehensively, but Moody ignores him. When he turns his worried eyes to yours you shake your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Moody's grimness.

" — the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously," says Tonks as she straps Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," Moody growls. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt — "

"No one's going to die," you say calmly, receiving a doubtful grumble from Moody in the process.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Remus says sharply, pointing into the sky at the shower of bright red sparks flaring high above you.

You swing your leg over your broom — your dusty old Cleansweep Seven that you've had since you were fifteen and that has seen more of the inside of your garden shed than the open air — and wrap your hands around the flaking handle. You're a pretty average flier — nothing compared to James, of course...but who could ever compare to him?

"Second signal, let's go!" Remus says loudly, as this time green sparks explode into the air far above you.

You kick off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushes into you as you rise higher into the air, the houses and buildings of Little Whinging becoming smaller and smaller as your group ascends. Looking up, the sky is vast and clear, revealing the billions of gleaming stars twinkling above. You can't help the small rush of giddiness that sparks in you at the sight of it.

"Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!" Moody shouts over the wind, and your circling group follows Tonks as she swerves, Harry close behind. "We need more height...give it another quarter of a mile!"

"Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!" calls Moody.

"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks shouts angrily. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"

You're glad to hear this, your fingers turning numb around the handle of your broom in the chill.

You alter your course every now and then according to Moody's instructions, you and the rest of the guard circling Harry and Tonks as you move.

"We ought to double back for a bit, to make sure we're not being followed!" Moody shouts.

"Don't be mad! We're nearly there now!" You yell, recognising the streets hurtling past below. "If we keep going off course, we won't have to worry about being followed because Harry'll have died from hypothermia by then!"

"Time to start the descent!" Remus orders. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

You dive, flying lower and lower until you touch down on a quiet street with several less-than-welcoming houses lining it.

"Where are we?" Harry asks.

"In a minute," Remus says quietly, looking at Moody expectantly as he rummages around in his cloak.

"Got it," he mutters, pulling out Dumbledore's trusty Deluminator and clicking it. The nearest streetlamp goes out with a pop. Moody clicks the Deluminator again and one by one each lamp on the street distinguishes, leaving the faint glow of lit rooms behind curtains the only source of light on the street.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody explains to Harry, pocketing the Deluminator once more. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out the window, see? Now, come on, quick."

Together, your group makes it towards houses Number 11 and Number 13. Even though he's been Disillusioned, you can still see Harry's form shivering with the cold, and you make a slow sweeping motion down the length of his body with your wand, muttering a quiet warming spell under your breath. You hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Remus tuts quietly under his breath. "No spell for the rest of us, then?"

You smile. "You're not my godson."

Even in the dark, you can see him rolling his eyes at you.

"Here," Moody says, thrusting a piece of paper towards Harry. "Read quickly and memorise."

"What's the Order of the — ?"

"Not here, boy!" Moody snarls immediately, his eyes wide. "Wait 'til we're inside!"

He snatches the parchment out of Harry's hand and lights it on fire, dropping it to the ground, the edges curling in the flame.

"But where's — ?"

"Think about what you've just memorised," Remus says quietly.

After a moment, the run-down door of the Black house emerges in the space between 11 and 13, followed soon by grimy walls and windows.

"Come on, hurry," Moody growls, prodding Harry in the back.

You tap the door with your wand. Loud metallic clicks and squeaks sound behind the door before it creaks open, revealing the darkened hallway beyond. "Get in quick, Harry. But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

You shuffle into the hallway behind Harry, casting a wary eye to the curtained portrait at the end of the hall, waiting for Moody to finish returning the light to the streetlamps before closing the door behind him.

"Here." Moody raps Harry hard over the head with his wand, lifting the Disillusionment Charm and returning Harry to his usual, visible state. Probably could've been a bit more gentle with it, but whatever.

"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light around here," Moody says quietly. With a soft hissing noise, the old-fashioned gas lamps flicker to life, illuminating the depressingly drab hallway you're standing in.

Hurried footsteps alert you to Mrs Weasley's entrance, emerging from the basement door with a smile on her face as she makes her way toward you.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispers, pulling Harry into a tight hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."

She turns to you and the rest of the Order members and whispers urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started..."

Everyone starts to make their way through the door, and Harry moves to follow Remus when you gently hold him back, a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Harry. Order members only. We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Ron and Hermione are waiting upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over, and then we'll all have dinner," Mrs Weasley whispers to him. "And keep your voice down in the hall."

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you — ?"

"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting — I'll just show you where you're sleeping."

You give Harry and Mrs Weasley a wave before heading down into the basement, opening the door as quietly as possible and slipping into your usual spot beside Sirius at the table while Dumbledore speaks to Remus and Moody about Harry. You listen as Dumbledore outlines plans and guard duty: looks like you're on tomorrow night. Brilliant.

Snape sits across from you, and when your eyes meet he gives you a near-imperceptible head shake. Nothing on Wormtail yet. Then his eyes shift to hatred as he wrinkles his nose at Sirius beside you, and you notice that your husband is currently pretending to scratch his nose with just his middle finger extended, directly in Snape's eyeline.

Of course.

When the meeting is finally over, most of the Order members file out of the kitchen and upstairs, speaking in hushed voices as they enter the hall. You pull one of the scrolls of parchment from the middle of the table into your hands, skimming your eyes over a plan of the Department of Mysteries, exits and entrances marked in red.

Just then, you hear a clatter and a great, thankfully muffled, screeching starts from the hall. You sigh, rubbing your temples, and move to stand up and deal with your darling mother-in-law when Sirius gently pushes you back into your chair, standing up.

"I'll handle it."

Bill and Mr Weasley sit close by, heads pressed together as they mull over parchment and documents. After a minute or two, the screaming stops and Sirius reopens the door, Harry following close behind with Remus and the rest of the kids.

Mrs Weasley clears her throat and Mr Weasley jumps to his feet, hurrying over to give Harry's hand a shake. "Harry! Good to see you!"

Bill starts to try and roll up the scrolls and you move to help him, handing him the plan of the Department of Mysteries.

"Journey all right, Harry?" he asks. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, did he?"

"He tried," Tonks says, striding over to help you and immediately knocking over a candle, sending the wax spilling onto the parchment. "Oh, no — sorry — "

"Here," you say, waving your wand and muttering a spell to repair the parchment. In the light your wand casts, you spy Harry trying to catch a glimpse of what's written on the parchment.

Mrs Weasley sees him too, and clicks her tongue disapprovingly, snatching up the scrolls and shoving them into Bill's arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings."

She sweeps off towards a dresser to start unloading dinner plates and you grab a cloth and wipe down the table for dinner.

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius says, retaking his usual spot at the table. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

Mundungus, who has been snoring away at the end of the table, stirs and jolts awake. "Someone say m' name? I agree with Sirius..."

He raises his hand in the air as though voting, and you snort.

"Meeting's over, Dung," you say with a smile, giving his back a poke as you pass by with more plates. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" He peers at Harry before his face lights in recognition. "Blimey, so 'e 'as! Yeah...you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Mundungus fumbles in his pockets and produces his trusty black pipe, lighting the tip with his wand and taking a long pull from it. A cloud of green smoke thickens the air around him instantly.

"Owe you an apology," he grunts.

"For the last time, Mundungus," calls Mrs Weasley in frustration, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"Ah. Right, sorry, Molly."

He stuffs the pipe back into his pocket, with slight reluctance.

Soon, a series of heavy knives are chopping meat and vegetables on their own, supervised by Mr Weasley, while Mrs Weasley stirs a cauldron dangling over the fire. Mundungus, Sirius, and Harry are talking at the table, and from the few snippets you overhear you can tell Sirius is complaining about being stuck inside with nothing to do — which you don't blame him for.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry says bracingly.

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the cleaning's going — "

"What cleaning?" Harry asks.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," Sirius replies, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist, hasn't cleaned anything in years — "

"Sirius?" Mundungus pipes up, eyes focused on a silver goblet in his hands, examining it with immense interest. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," he answers, surveying the goblet with obvious distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come off, though," Mundungus mutters thoughtfully, scrubbing the crest with his cuff.

"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs Weasley shrieks.

Fred and George have bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, to hurtle through the air towards the table. Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus leap away, just in time to avoid the pot of stew that skids the length of the table before stopping at the end, the flagon of butterbeer that falls with a crash and spills over the surface, dripping onto the floor, and the sharp knife that slips from the breadboard and sticks in the table where Sirius' hand had been moments before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Mrs Weasley screams, face red with fury. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred says, hurrying forward and wrenching the knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate — didn't mean to — "

Harry and Sirius are laughing, and you turn your face away to hide your laughter from the furious Mrs Weasley. Mundungus struggles to his feet, swearing and muttering under his breath.

"Boys," Mr Weasley steps in, lifting the stew pot back into the middle of the table. "Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age — "

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley snaps at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table while you clean away the mess from the previous with your wand. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy — "

She stops dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband. Mentions of Percy are not particularly welcomed in the house at the moment, after Percy and Mr Weasley had an especially heated argument and Percy chose his job at the Ministry over his own family.

"Let's eat," Bill says quickly.

For a few minutes, there is silence in the room but for the scraping of plates and cutlery and the creak of chairs as everyone settles down for the meal. You sit beside Sirius, who smiles and pulls your chair closer to his as you eat.

He tugs on the sleeve of your jumper, rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. "I like this, it suits you. You look very pretty."

You scoff, giving him a smile. "Of course you like it, Sirius, it's yours. Anyways, I'm thinking of going back home soon just to collect a few things," you say. "Is there anything you want? I am seriously missing my telescope here — "

A loud burst of laughter drowns out the rest of your words, as Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus roll around in their chairs.

"...and then," chokes Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'Dung, where did ya get all them toads from? 'Cause some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says, 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back off me for twice what 'e paid in the first place — "

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings thank you very much, Mundungus," Mrs Weasley says sharply.

"Beg pardon, Molly," he answers at once, wiping his face and winking at Harry. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em of Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing anything wrong — "

"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seemed to have missed a few crucial lessons," Mrs Weasley says coldly, before shooting a particularly nasty look at Sirius and standing up to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for dessert.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Mundungus is certainly not the most law-abiding man, but he has his uses.

"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius says quietly to Harry.

"How come he's in the Order?"

"He's useful," Sirius mutters. "Knows all the crooks — "

"Well, he would, seeing as he is one himself," you add, taking a sip from your wine.

Sirius nods. "He's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you."

Several helpings of crumble later, the air in the room moves to a relaxed laziness as you finish telling the story of Remus's first time getting drunk at Hogwarts to Tonks, who giggles and laughs while Remus shakes his head and becomes increasingly interested in his goblet. Sirius's hand rests on your hip, idly drawing circles with his finger.

"I don't — uh — I don't remember that," Remus says, cheeks crimson as he glances at Tonks to see her reaction.

You hum, smiling at him. "Well, I certainly do. "

Tonks smiles appreciatively at Remus, yawning loudly.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley says, yawning too.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius says, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The change in the atmosphere is rapid: Mrs Weasley sits bolt upright, her fists clenched; Remus lowers his goblet warily, eyes meeting yours.

"I did!" Harry says indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so — "

"And they're quite right," Mrs Weasley says firmly. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius asks, raising his eyebrows. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen — "

"Hang on!" George interrupts loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" says Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"

"You're too young, you're not in the Order," Fred says in a high-pitched imitation of his mother. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's been doing," Sirius says calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand — "

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs Weasley says sharply, a dangerous look on her face. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" His tone is polite, but you spot the familiar tense in his jaw and know that this calmness won't last long.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs Weasley replies stonily.

Everyone else in the room is dead silent, their eyes flitting between Sirius and Mrs Weasley as though watching a tennis match. You meet Remus's eyes across the table, subtly shaking your head.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," says Sirius. "But he was the one who saw Voldemort come back. He has more right than most to — "

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs Weasley snaps. "He's only fifteen — "

"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order, and more than some — "

"No one's denying what he's done!" Mrs Weasley's voice rises, her fists trembling with anger. "But he's still — "

"He's not a child!" Sirius says impatiently.

"He's not an adult either! He's not James, Sirius!"

Sirius stares back at Mrs Weasley, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. His voice is ice. "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are!" Mrs Weasley says hotly. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" says Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demands, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly — "

"Enough," you say loudly, stopping the two. You inhale deeply. "Harry deserves to know a certain amount. He has been left in the dark for a month, and I have no doubt that he's used this time to come up with a few interesting theories of what's been going on. Don't you think he deserves to know what is true, from us, rather than a muddled version from...others?"

You don't doubt that a few of Fred and George's Extendable Ears have survived Mrs Weasley's purge.

Mrs Weasley looks back at you, breathing deeply. "Well..." she looks around the table for support, but receives none. "Well...I can see that I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart — "

"He's not your son," Sirius says quietly.

"He's as good as!" Mrs Weasley snaps back fiercely. Great, just when you thought the argument had come to an end. "Who else has he got?"

You pause, hoping you misheard her.

"He's got us!" Sirius snaps back, gesturing between you and him.

"Yes. The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Immediately, you feel your anger flare and you glare daggers back at her. "It's not like he had a choice, Molly!" You snap defensively. "How could you say something like that — "

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Remus says sharply. "Sirius, sit down."

Sirius, who had begun to rise from his chair, sinks slowly back into his seat, face white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continues calmly. "He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry says at once.

Mrs Weasley looks at him for a moment, swallowing harshly. "Very well. Ginny — Hermione — Ron — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

Instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George cry together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron shouts.

"Mum, I want to!" Ginny wails.

"NO!" shouts Mrs Weasley, her chest heaving as she stands. "I absolutely forbid — "

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr Weasley says wearily. "They are of age."

"They're still at school — "

"But they're legally adults now."

"I — alright, fine, Fred and George can stay, but Ron — "

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron says heatedly. "Won't — won't you?" He adds uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

"'Course I will."

Ron and Hermione beam.

"Fine!" Mrs Weasley shouts. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

You hear Ginny stomping and raging at her mother all the way up the stairs, awakening Walburga's portrait when she reaches the hall. You sigh, hurrying off to force the curtains shut over the crazy woman with immense effort. You return, shutting the door to the stairs behind you, and fall back into your seat with a heavy sigh.

"Okay, Harry...what do you want to know?" Sirius speaks.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," Harry asks immediately, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything — "

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," says Sirius. "Not as far as we know, anyway...and we do know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Remus adds.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asks.

"He doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," you answer. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't quite come off the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Remus says with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry questions, perplexed.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius says. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters were supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," says Remus. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?"

"Are you kidding?" Bill says incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix the day Voldemort returned," says Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" asks Harry, looking around the table at everyone.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius answers.

"How do you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," says Remus, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," says Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," you say.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill tells. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because the Ministry is still in denial," you say with a sigh. "You saw Fudge after Voldemort came back, Harry — he hasn't changed his mind at all. He's completely refusing to believe it."

"But why?" Harry asks desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore — "

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," says Mr Weasley with a wry smile. "Dumbledore."

"Fudge is frightened of him," you say.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry says incredulously.

"Frightened of what he's up to," says Mr Weasley. "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want — "

"Of course he doesn't," Mr Weasley speaks, adjusting his spectacles. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

Remus clears his throat. "Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice. But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry says angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up — that I'd make it up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius says bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"Ignorance is bliss," you say sardonically.

"You see the problem," Remus says. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they don't really want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's 'rumourmongering', so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" says Harry, looking around the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"

You smile humourlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" Sirius says grimly.

"And people don't exactly find the wife of said criminal the most trustworthy either," you say bleakly, shrugging.

"I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Remus tells. "Occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius explains, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a few people though," Mr Weasley says optimistically. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you is putting the news out that Voldemort is back — " Harry begins, but Sirius stops him.

"Who said none of us was putting the news out? Why d'you think Dumbledore is in so much trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asks.

"They're trying to discredit him," Remus explains. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot — that's the Wizard High Court — and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill chimes in, grinning.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr Weasley says shortly. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way — well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asks quickly.

You exchange a glance with Sirius before he says, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

Harry stays looking confused, and Sirius continues, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?"

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry asks. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra — ? "

"That's enough."

From the shadows beside the door, Mrs Weasley stands, her expression furious. "I want you in bed, now. All of you."

"You can't boss us — " Fred begins.

"Watch me," she snarls, before turning her unapproving gaze on Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straight away."

"Why not?" Harry says. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight — "

"No."

This time, it's not Mrs Weasley who speaks, it's Remus.

"The Order is comprised of overage wizards," he says.

"Wizards who have left school," you add quickly, seeing the twins open their mouths. You sigh, pushing your chair away from the table, patting Sirius's arm softly. "Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough. I think it's time everyone got some rest."

He gives a half-shrug but doesn't argue, waiting as Mrs Weasley leads her children and Harry upstairs to their bedrooms.

Later, you yawn around your toothbrush, facing the mirror in the dimly-lit ensuite off Sirius's bedroom.

"She can't seriously think leaving Harry in the dark about all this is the better option," Sirius muses testily, idly fiddling with your jewellery on the nightstand as he talks. "He's not a child. He's deserves to know what's going on."

"I agree."

"And the way she brought up James — as if I can't tell the difference between my best friend and my godson," he continues in frustration. "I know he's not James, of course I know that — "

You spit into the sink, pulling the tap to rinse it out. "She didn't know James. She doesn't know how difficult it is to stop yourself from looking at Harry and seeing him. How hard it is to not look for him and Lily in everything."

"No," Sirius says after a moment. "She doesn't."

You run your hands down your face, sighing. "I can't believe she said that thing about you in Azkaban. I can't believe she would stoop that low, as if you had any fucking choice to be in there."

"She hates me," he says. "Do you see the looks she gives me?"

"She doesn't hate you," you tell him wearily, flicking off the light and closing the bathroom door behind you. You lean against the doorframe, folding your arms. "She's scared and worried about Harry, that's all. She's stressed."

"She's not the only one."

"No, she's not," you say softly, making your way over to where he sits on the bed, gently taking his face in your hands. "Look, forget about it now. What's done is done, there's no use dwelling on it now."

He sighs, leaning into your touch with a small sigh. "You really are the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"I try."

He kisses your knuckles one by one, then presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "And clever."

You hum, watching as his lips slowly travel up your arm, arriving at your neck, where he lingers for several moments to kiss every inch of exposed skin he can reach. "And beautiful."

He pulls you toward him so you're straddling his legs, and he grins. "So very beautiful indeed."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-seven here!

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[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 89)

Another Day, another adventure out to find another pod to salvage.

This one was much further away, instead of a one day journey, this would at least be a three, traveling under the cover of night and resting during the day. It was a flipped schedule for most drones, but even Thad and Lizzy had gotten used to it at this point- so the rest of the engineers could too.

Tera was swaddled up tight against her mother's chest so that she wouldn't get cold, normally she would be left in the bunker during an excursion like this, but everyone she could've been left with had joined them. V was flying ahead, scouting for any infected and clearing the way for the forklift. N was next to her, one hand a rifle and the other wrapped tightly in her own like her own personal bodyguard.

Lizzy and Thad both were on lookout, keeping their eyes peeled for any infected V might have missed, and Khan was in front, on top of the forklift directing people better than she ever would.

He'd been decently hands off so far, letting her plan and direct while he looked over her blueprints for any errors and delt with stuff internally, but now, with such long journeys and Uzi inching closer to her ‘supposed’ due date. He didn't want his daughter being overwhelmed.

Honestly? Uzi was relieved, as much as she appreciated the amount of trust her dad was putting in her now. She wasn't sure if she was ready to be leading a squad of drones by herself. She didn't want to be held responsible if something went horribly wrong…

“It's kinda weird to be traveling in a big caravan like this.” N started a conversation, probably because the tense silence was starting to put him on edge. “And on foot, it's like one of those ‘finding the promised land’ movies.”

Uzi smiled, she could always count on N to keep the moment lighthearted.

“We kinda are… what kind of planet would you want- if you could choose?” Uzi asks, squeezing his hand gently for some silent reassurance.

“Something not snowy. The temperature is nice for cooling off but I am so sick of snow…” He replied, and Uzi couldn't help but agree. “No more snow. Maybe a desert?”

“And die as soon as we land? Our systems couldn't handle that.” N laughed. “Maybe…a big ocean?”

“We're metal. And not entirely waterproof. You just enjoyed Subnautica too much.” Uzi teased and N chuckled at himself, “Hey that game is good! You're the one who showed it to me.”

Uzi thought again for a moment. “A big forest… with lots of greenery. Maybe a jungle?” She suggested. “I've never actually seen living plantlife, man that's kinda sad.” She added after a moment.

“Oh! Y-yeah I guess you haven't… “ He realized, almost kicking himself.

Whenever he thought of Uzi, he always thought that she was always there with him, even on Earth. Which wasn't actually the case of course, Uzi definitely wasn't at the manor… but he always felt she was. Maybe it was because some of his memories were of her as a crow and those were bleeding into his actual memories.

But no, she'd never been off Copper-9, and she'd only seen organic life through pictures or a screen. She'd never had the feeling of grass tickling her casing, or the petals of flowers between her fingers.

Just cold steel and ice.

“Then yeah, I hope there's lots of plants, and it's so green you'll get sick of it.” He laughs, kissing her on the forehead as he pulls her in gently. And she laughs in such a content way… it's like feeling the sun on his silicone again.

“Halt!” He hears Khan shout, and the moment is broken. He can feel the bitter wind once more, hear the howling of it overhead, and the deep shuddering groans of urban decay. The ground is a muddy slurry from all the movement … and it's cold; leeching away any heat from his feet into the ground.

With a small squeeze onto his girlfriends hand, he flies up to see what was the matter, and it becomes immediately obvious the second he can see over the forklift.

A gigantic black tendril is blocking the road, laying inert- though still breathing, V was pushing people back to avoid the snaking webbing of flesh already beginning to grow around it.

N lands next to Khan on top of the forklift, and he looks… distressed.

“I know you've shown me pictures and holograms. But this is… something else.” Khan is trembling slightly, joints clicking as they tapped together.

“This one looks new… it's not moving yet. V and I can probably burn it away so we can get past it.” He puts a hand on Khans shoulder as a way to steady the man. And he takes a deep breath.

“I'll back up the caravan. Give you some room.” Khan agreed, before sticking his hand out to motion people to back up.

“You know, it took me awhile… but I know why Uzi chose you…” Khan started, looking nervous, N lifted his brow.

“You're… stable. You're reliable. You love with every ounce of yourself. And I… she didn't have that before, unfortunately.” He stopped himself from going into self-pity, shaking off that feeling to continue;

“You have a good head on your shoulders son. I'm sorry it took so long for me to get it. Better now then never I suppose.” He laughed softly and the caravan stopped moving backwards. N smiled, his wings coming out with a flourish.

“Thank you. Mr- Ah, Khan. Thank you Khan.”

Khan smiled brightly at that.

“Now go kick some tentacle ass! Don't want you back down here until it's a burning stump!”

N laughed. “Sir yes Sir!” as he flew off, his hands being replaced with duel flamethrowers. V hovers up next to him, her arms crossed.

“What's the plan boss?” She asks, a brow raised.

“Burn it enough so that the caravan can get through… might have to burn the ground too. Can't risk people coming into contact with it.” He replied, before blinking. “D-Did you just call me boss?”

V turned away for a moment, probably to hide her fluster. Before coming up right to his visor and flicking it lightly. “Don't read too much into it, idiot.”

“Okay, Okay!” He laughed, before they both made their way down with their respective flamethrowers, aiming it down at the gross fleshy tendril.

At the same time, they unleashed a plume of hot flame. The tentacle reacted violently, thrashing wildly as a loud screech ripped through the air from… somewhere. The ground itself rumbled, as if it were alive - and writhing in pain.

After a moment, the rumbling stopped and the screech faded back into howling wind, as an extra measure, both dissasembly drones burned the ground the tentacle was sitting on until it was charred.

“Think that's good?” N asked his pseudo-sister. And she nodded, testing it herself by walking across it. “Seems good, tell Khan he can start moving again.”

He flew up and gave a thumbs up. After a moment, the group began to move forward again. He spotted Lizzy climbing onto the roof of a car to see better.

Thad doing the same closer to the back.

“You think this is actually going to work?” V asks suddenly. A distant look on her face as she watches over the group walking underneath them.

“What? Building a ship?” He cocks his head and she nods. “It's a long shot, isn't it?” He agrees, his own concern shining through for a moment. “But I think if anyone can do it it's Uzi, you know?”

“And can you imagine? A whole new life. No more murder… or corpse spires, or… weird masses of tentacles.”

V smiles, but it looks slightly pained.

“You still sound like you did at the manor. We talked about running away together if you remember.”

He was hit with it, suddenly.

She was leaning against him, in a rare moment of peace. His arms wrapped around her as she nuzzled into his shoulder. He kissed her head and she giggled; light and airy, content to be in the moment.

“If we could go anywhere, where would you want to go?” He asked, a soft blush on his face, white, like his eyelights.

“We can't… we're not human.”

“Humor me?”

She sighed, “Um… out in the country, I think. Away from people.” She replied, her glasses were perched on her face, she was so cute…

“Maybe we can one day. You and Me.” He suggested, smiling fondly down.

“Are you suggesting we run away N?” She smirked, he loved that little smirk, the little fire that was inside her burning bright for just a moment…

“Yeah… kinda, can you imagine? A whole new life… no more masters. No more cleaning wine stains off the upholstery…”

“Or doing Mrs. Elliots gross hair…” V adds, making him laugh. “Oh god! I know! Why is it so greasy?!”

He blinks, smiling.

“I'm surprised you even remember that.”

And V laughs. “Of course I do! You said Mrs. Elliot’s head was greasy!” It's a different kind of laugh now, it doesn't make him feel the same way, but it's still pleasant.

“I was agreeing with you! You said it first!” He defended, laughing along with her.

Those times were so strange to think about now… like he lived two totally different lived. His feelings for V were familial now, weirdly strengthened but anything romantic being erased to time.

“That's weird to think about now.” He admits. “I feel like you're… my sister almost.”

She snorts. “Oh same. Every time I think about the manor I cringe a little… I don't regret it obviously… but it's just weird.”

“… I remember you being so nervous the first time we kissed…” He said slowly. And she exploded in yellow blush.

“Agh! I was actually trembling. For some reason I thought kissing was biting someone's mouth.”

N genuinely cackled at that.

“Are you serious?! That… that explains so much actually. You bit my lip.”

If anything her blush grew even worse.

“Aaaand I wish you didn't remember that…”

His eyes trailed down to Lizzy, and then back up to V. A teasing smile playing on his face.

“I'm sure your practice with Liz was better.” Came tumbling out of his mouth, and his ex-girlfriend turned ‘sister’ froze up, tail kinking up as they floated there.

“You… little shit.” She said, surprised and exasperated that he said that. “You so did not just say that!”

And suddenly she was chasing him, both ripping through the air as he laughed, even though she was clearly embarrassed, she was smiling.

He decided he liked this dynamic much better.

Next ->

[ronearoundblindly]

Okay, so, hear me out.

I know I've got a Beauty and the Beast AU coming for skinny!Steve, but @darsynia gave me/let me have this idea of a Cinderella AU with him, too, except he is the Cinderella character who gets transformed to live his dream for a day.

I present to you the setup of:

*All photos from Pinterest

Steven is the only child of an exiled prince, and due to happenstance of the aged Warrior King Phillips having no male heir of his own, Steve becomes true royalty overnight.

His cousins, Princesses Margaret and Sharon, angry at the circumstance of their demotions at court, offer no help to the young, small, and often sickly new king.

No one is allowed to see him until his coronation. The few knights and advisors who have laid eyes on Steve are sworn to secrecy, and though he has a mind for strategy, Steve is burdened by his appearance.

Given the coronation crown the night before the big ceremony, Steve stares deep into the massive yellow gem at its front and wishes to look like the "ruler they all want to see."

And he does.

He wears the heavy crown easily, he stands tall over most of the court, and he carries a heavy, steel sword at his hip for the first time ever without the blade dragging across the stone floor.

The court is elated. No one looks twice, not even the handful of men who knew, but that's the magic of the stone...

Steve meets a seemingly endless stream of people, but the most curious is the apprentice of King Phillips' military advisor, a young man he saw befriending a stray cat in the courtyard while everyone else ogled and angled for him. The apprentice's eyes...there's just something about them...

After a long celebration feast where he charmed the nobility with humility, practicality, and honor, Steve falls asleep small again, but certain he can win over the whole realm if he can simply be known for his actions, not his physique.

That becomes the plan; Steve will work behind the scenes, make the kingdom better for people high and low, and then he'll be loved and accepted for who he is. In the meantime, he, in his natural form, can act as a sort of messenger or page boy 'for King Steven' and move around freely. Why not? They all are on the lookout for a man standing two hands higher and broader than him.

One of his first visits is to his inherited military advisor. Of course, Steve doesn't expect the apprentice to live inside the family home, possibly somewhere on the estate maybe, but after a long ride to get there and a long discussion while sitting in the man's study, Steve asks if he might walk the garden before leaving.

He asks about the woman by the roses, and his advisor simply replies "that's my daughter."

Of course, he won't bother to introduce him. Steve's an untitled nobody like he's been his entire life thus far.

Steve might not have seen the resemblance, truly, if not for the exact movement of your finger to gently lift a wilting petal back into place.

It's the move the apprentice made when scratching beneath the cat's chin, and he'll never forget that smile.

"You," he blurts, startled at the otherwise drastic change in your appearance.

You jump back before composing yourself, shielding your eyes from the bright sun above as you look him over.

He's more alarmed by your curtsy than you are by him, watching you bow deeply where moments ago your father dismissed him offhand.

"Your Majesty," you say to the ground.

You...

You recognize him like this? How? How is that possible?

His wish was granted. They all saw a perfect soldier, but that's just the thing: you didn't want to be ruled by a perfect soldier.

You wanted a good man.

You, who secretly longs to offer more to your father and family than a bartering chip for marriage, same as his cousins, need the king to be a good man because then he'll understand this...

A/N: Ok, full disclosure, I might already be very protective of this one, so we'll see if I can bring myself to put it all out there. Anyway! Thank you for the gif, Brandy! It was a great opportunity to get this down.

Also, if it's just an idea/intro, do I include the taglist? Idk. I hate pinging y'all if it's not like a lot of content.

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[wrinkly-fucking-qtip]

“I kind of earned my space or whatever... just don't move your shit is all I'm saying.”

If I think about this scene longer than a minute I might just fucking McLoose it. You can count with half a finger the amount of times Ian has asked for help. You can count with two hands the amount of times Ian has avoided asking for help.

"Name a single time I've let you down."

I have always loved the Lip and Ian dynamic because of how perfectly flawed it is. There's a lot of comparison between Lip, Ian, Monica, and Frank, so let me raise you this situation. Remember how in s2 Monica wanted to do better by signing herself for more days at the psychward? Trying to get her psyche under control but Frank wanted to keep enabling her in the wrong ways? Telling her that she's alright, she doesn't need the help? Well, how about Ian reaching out to his brother for a helping hand, because he is feeling overwhelmed, needing help now more than ever, and Lip just basically denies him the help... in a somewhat patronizing way?

So it's like, two people that for different reasons, and different circumstances, are seeking that help or support, and the other person who claims to care outright attempts against it? Monica always did what she wanted, never really accepting her illness and ignoring the repercussions of it, and the effects it has on her family. And the few times she tried, Frank always intervened in heinous ways. Ian has been going through a difficult time, and the one time he asks for help, it is denied because his brother, who has claimed to never let him down, achieved a status, something that inflates his already overgrown ego. Nevermind that this is his brother, and he is visibly depressed.

Ian had goals of his own, always on the lookout to achieve. Lip didn't care about that for a while, and practically forced himself to care, only to throw it all away. And I'm sure he didn't outwardly intend for it to come across as that, but it did. Ian wanted to make something out of his life, but shit hit the roof and he didn't. And I'm glad he found a job as an EMT, he really needed that job. And he worked hard for it, he earned it. Lip fucked it all up.

This is not a Lip hate post though, he's in my top 5 favorite characters, I love that mother fucker, and I hate him as well, and his high moral that only pretends to give him BDE.

But yeah. Ian needed support. And I know that each of the Gallaghers had their own shit going on this season, I know, but there is already a recurring theme of Ian being entirely dismissed by his siblings, except for Debbie in s4 and her attempts to help him in s5. She did more than was expected of Fiona to do in those seasons, given that she is the legal guardian and all.

I am also not hating on Fiona, she is a fantastic character and stepped up for her family obviously. But by stepping up at such a young age with a lack of tools to maneuver herself through this chaos, good parenting is unobtainable.

It hurts me to see that he reached this point. All he ever fucking needed was support. S6 Ian, you have my heart and soul, and I wish you weren't hurting as much.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hello! I have an absolute weakness for like protective men. Like I've been thinking too much about Tan being a protective hubby even when he is undercover. Like reader is on the job with him but he just can't help but step in even if it costs the mission. So ya know if you needed an excuse to write something like this (or just use this as an inspo for something unrelated) then have fun, but no pressure of course!!

Have a great day, you deserve it <3

hii!! oh yeah me too, real big thing for that. I had too many ideas and I feel like id break my brain trying to write this as a fic, so I’ll give you my thoughts if that’s okay? and I feel like you’re an anon that messaged in recently (I think it’s the last line) have a lovely day angel! hope you like it💌

TAN BEING PROTECTIVE IN THE FIELD.

— your marriage would get in the way during missions and it would often make you both forget the task at hand. far too concerned with the welfare and safety of the other and it would always come above the mission 

— he'd have to remind himself that when you're undercover, that you don't know each other. but he'd always find you within the crowd, keeping a keen eye on you. the second he thinks he spots something fishy, he's pushing his way over to you. but usually it's nothing to be worried about and he'd give up his disguise over nothing

— he'd much rather be safe than sorry when it comes to you

— he would find any excuse to be close to you when undercover. as close as he can get without compromising the assignment !!

— he'd arrange a signal with you or some kind of call or safe word 

— he's so concerned with you that he often forgets he needs to be on the lookout for himself. he's too occupied with you 

— he's strict about rules when you're in the field - never take a drink from someone (decline kindly as not to bring attention. or hold it but don't drink it) never leave the room without notifying one of the twins, never join a swarm of people (it's too easy for someone to give you something (like an injection, patch idk)) to trust your gut, don't be too proud to ask for help, have one of the twins in your eye line at all times

— he knows he comes across as paranoid, but it all comes from a good place. he's excessive, but when it comes to your safety, nothing is ever enough

— he forgets you know what you're doing and can protect and fight for yourself. he just cares too much and wants to be the one to help you, even though you can do it yourself

[serickswrites]

Hello! Could you write a story where a supervillain becomes friends with a regular civilian. The civilian is insanely oblivious and doesn’t watch the news, so he just has no clue how massively deadly and dangerous the villain is. But the villain is just happy to have a genuine friend for once :) then maybe the civilian finds out or something?

Hello, friend! I absolutely can write this for you. This is such a sweet idea.

Supervillain had thought that they would be alone when they hiked to the top of the mountain overlooking City. They were wrong. A person sat at the lookout point, staring over the city.

Supervillain tried to exit quietly, not wanting to have another negative encounter with someone who knew who they were, but they dropped their metal water bottle. "Fuck," they muttered as it clanged on the ground. So much for a quiet, anonymous exit.

"JESUS!" The person said as they jumped. "You scared me!"

Unfortunately Supervillain was used to people reacting to them that way. They had been City's largest villain for many years. They couldn't go anywhere without scaring people. It had its uses. But mostly, it was lonely.

"I'm sorry, I'll just be going," Supervillain said quickly as they started to hurry away.

"No, it's ok! Wait. Do you want to join me?"

Supervillain froze. Join them?

The person started speaking again, "I wanted to climb this mountain with my friend. But they bailed. Actually I don't think we're friends anymore. It seems like they don't like me very much. Anyway, I would love for you to join me if that's ok." The words tumbled out of their mouth as they smiled at Supervillain.

"Are you sure?" Supervillain didn't know what to do.

"Positive! I'm Civilian by the way. What's your name?" Civilian held out their hand to Supervillain.

And this was the part where surely Civilian would run screaming. "Supervillain, my name is Supervillain."

Civilian smiled. "Nice to meet you, Supervillain."

Supervillain sat stiffly next to Civilian, listening to Civilian prattle away about various things about the mountain and City. Supervillain was flabbergasted that Civilian had run away screaming. Rather, it seemed like Civilian was happy to have Supervillain there.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," Supervillain said, not used to having someone treat them with interest and kindness, "but you really don't know who I am?"

Civilian cocked their head. "Should I?"

"I'm on the news often, so probably," Supervillain said as they held their breath. This would be the moment. This was it.

Civilian shook their head. "I don't have a TV, so no."

Supervillain tried to not let the shock show on their face. This was...new. This person was genuinely nice to them. Interested in them. But had no idea who they were. It was...nice.

"Are you like super famous or something?"

Supervillain cringed internally. "Something like that."

"Oh cool! I've never met a celebrity before! What made you famous?"

Before Supervillain could open their mouth to reply, another hiker appeared at the trail mouth. "It's a beautiful day. Oh look there's--OH GOD EVERYONE RUN! SUPERVILLAIN IS HERE!" The hiker screamed down to the rest of their party. "RUN! CALL THE POLICE! CALL FOR HELP!"

Supervillain tried not to feel let down. So much for making a new friend. "Supervillain, why would they run from you and be afraid?" Civilian asked.

Supervillain looked away. "Because I have been terrorizing City for the better part of fifteen years. I'm...I'm the villain in the town."

Civilian nodded. "That's all? I thought it was something I should really worry about!"

"You're not afraid of me?"

Civilian shook their head again. "Are you here to hurt me? Kill me? Nope. Then I don't care. You look like you could use a friend. I know I definitely could."

[meddowflowers]

Junebug [ Ficlet ]

Pre-relationship wildflowers ficlet because I've been replaying the game and thinking about that first summer together... The yearning is very very cute, I think :)c

"Do you- uh- do you like your name?"

Delilah answered Heather's question with a soft laugh. "What, don't think it suits me?" Her tone was rather teasing, as seemed it be its natural state most days.

"Well I never said all that!" Heather responded, echoing the other's laugh. "I just, y'know, I'm curious. Trying to make small talk."

They did a lot of that, Heather noted. Just making small talk, chatting about whatever, whenever, why-ever. It was nice to fill the silence and solitude of the lookout towers with chatter. Or, at the very least, complaining about the heat and whatever campers had illegally lit a campfire that week.

Delilah made a soft noise of contemplation before she spoke again. "I like it," she said. "I've never really thought about it, I guess. I think my mom told me I was named after a great-great-aunt, or something."

"Ooo, Delilah the second~!" Heather purred, a crappy British accent finding its way into her voice.

Delilah chuckled softly, and the sound made Heather's heart jump just a bit in her chest. Though, she chose not to think too hard about it, again.

"What about your middle name? You said it was June, right? When- uh- when we named the fire." A pause. "When I named the fire."

"It's fine," she responded, her answer coming quicker this time, as if she'd thought about it before. (Ironic, Heather noted, since it was her middle name, not her first name that got all the attention)

"The worst part is the, y'know, the month jokes. I wasn't even born in June." Before Heather could ask about when she was born, Delilah was already continuing. "No! The real worst part is that every goddamn guy who learns you're named June and you're even a little bit outdoorsy?" She shook her head- Heather couldn't see her, but she could tell. "He's calling you junebug."

"Aww, not a bugs girl?" Heather asked, equal parts teasing and genuinely surprised.

Delilah hummed. "Well, I don't mind bugs. You kinda have to when you work here. These towers aren't exactly air-tight." She paused, like she was thinking.

"I guess it's just a bit overplayed. I'd like to hear some variation, you know? You can only be so many guys' junebug before it start getting old."

Heather made a soft noise of acknowledgement, and the two fell into a comfortable silence.

Delilah was the one to break it.

"What would you call me?"

"What?" Heather asked, just to ensure she'd heard Delilah correctly. To make sure she was reading this right.

"If we were dating. What would you call me?" Her tone was light, but it carried an odd weight to it. It was no longer just small talk, it was... something else. Something a bit more.

"Gosh, um..." Heather was quiet for a long few moments, playing a few names in her head. Toying with the sounds and syllables before they hit her tongue.

"I... would probably go with junebug too, I think," she admitted, almost sheepishly.

"Ugh, boo!" Delilah laughed, the way she rolled her eyes evident in her tone. She clicked her tongue. "Maybe I can make an exception for you. Who knows, it might be fresh when it's a woman saying it instead."

That made Heather's heart do a flip. Part of her wanted that- to be the one calling Delilah cute nicknames. Really, really badly.

She didn't say that, of course.

"Junie would be my second choice, I think," was what she said instead, a few moments later. "It's cute."

Distantly, she hoped it got across the same message, somehow.

"Huh," was Delilah's response. "Junie... I'd like that."

After that response... she was sure it had.

[luvyblossom]

Love me (not) (Pt. 3)

Hello Lovelies!

Thank you to those who have given me so much love on the previous parts! There will be a part 4 coming soon. This chapter is so self indulgent. Lots of angry Hyunjin! Also if you want to be added to the taglist just leave a note and I will add you.

Happy Reading!

W/c 4.5k

Warnings: this fic contains sexual content. MDNI

Series Masterlist

_____________________________

The week went by as normal except for the fact that you had not seen Hyunjin since he left your apartment that night. You had texted him to hang out a few times but he had said he was busy with some project or had other plans so you let it be. Felix had started to join your regular study sessions that used to be with Hyunjin and he would drag you to the gym after to show you some Taekwondo moves. Your evenings passed by pleasantly that week with Felix and his lessons would tucker you out so that you were ready for bed as soon as you got home. You were almost tired enough to not miss Hyunjin sleeping next to you- almost.

It was finally Friday and the day of your 'date' with Felix. You weren't sure if it was a date yet. Although you had spent hours with him this week, he had been friendly and nothing more. No real flirting, no almost kisses- which was frustrating because watching him show you martial arts moves only made him sexier. You had tried to call Hyunjin but he hadn't picked up. You were starting to wonder if something else was going on. He had never spent this much time away from you. Maybe he was just really stressed with his project but you decided that you would go see him tomorrow, he needed to take a break at some point. Now however, you had to get ready for a hike which was likely uphill. How exactly could you look cute while sweating?

"Where exactly is this hike?" You asked Felix as you climbed into his passenger seat.

"It's a surprise." He gave you his signature smile as he started to drive. You both listened to music and sang along. Maybe you were just forming a friendship similar to what you and Hyunjin had. Felix felt familiar and while you found him extremely attractive, he had not given you any indication that he liked you after the night of the party so you decided to clear your mind of any date ideas. You would just be disappointed again if you were expecting it.

Felix parked his car in what looked like the middle of nowhere. You were surrounded by trees and there was no sign of any civilization. "You didn't bring me here to kill me right?"

Felix laughed, "I've shown you enough self-defence that you should be able to take me down."

The hike was really pleasant. Trees surrounded you and when the foliage thinned you could see a river with bright blue water running alongside the trail. You walked quietly with Felix, a comfortable quiet, as you took in the beauty around you. The whole time Felix just watched you.

"This is the spot," Felix said as you reached a clearing at the top of the hill. Two large rocks sat at the top as if they had been placed there just so you and Felix could sit. From the lookout you could see the expanse of the river, the changing csky and the faint outline of the city skyline. You had made it just in time for the sun to start setting.

"It's absolutely beautiful," you sat on one of the rocks and Felix sat down next to you. The sky turned shades of orange, red, pink and purple as the sun started to dip below the horizon. "So how many girls have you brought here?" You teased.

"Actually just one," Felix rubbed the back of his neck, a habit that you had learned to recognize was a sign that he was nervous. "My grandma used to bring me here. She always told me this spot was magic, if you made a wish as the sun set, it would come true."

"What did you wish for?" You turned to Felix, peeling your eyes away from the gorgeous view in front of you. He was already looking at you, his brown eyes looking so intently as if he was trying to memorize every part of your face. He moved closer to you and crashed his lips onto to yours, taking you by complete surprise. The kiss was deep and he held onto you, pulling you close against him as if you were going to be taken away. He ran his tongue over your lips asking for entrance which you granted, allowing him to deepen the kiss. You pulled away to get some air and moved to straddle his lap. As soon as you were sitting on him, his lips were back on yours.

You felt his hands start to explore your body, tracing his fingers from your neck, down your back and to your hips, leaving your skin burning with every touch. He let out a moan as you started to grind yourself down on him, feeling how hard he was. He kissed down your jawline until he reached a sensitive spot on your neck, leaving a love bite there while he guided your hips to roll over his length. You could feel the wetness gathering in your panties as you rubbed yourself against him, getting just enough stimulation for momentary satisfaction while leaving you wanting so much more. Felix was leaving sloppy kisses and bites all over your collarbones while desperately pushing up into you, yearning for friction as well. He suddenly stopped his movement and pulled himself away from you, drawing a whine from you.

"I think we should head back," he sounded breathless as he said it. As much as you wanted him to rip off your clothes and fuck you there, it had become dark. The city skyline painted a faint figure of lights in the distance and the stars and moon reflected in the water. You could hear coyotes in the otherwise quiet night so you reluctantly agreed.

The moon lit your hike back. Felix and you walked hand in hand, admiring the stars, the admiration being interrupted with bouts of making out on the path before remembering your final destination. When you did finally reach Felix's car, you were more desperate than ever. As soon as he climbed into the car you were on top of him once again, crashing your lips onto his. You let your hands roam his body and slip under his shirt to feel his muscled torso and chest. His muscles were carved out, defined like a statue. It was your turn to mark him up as you kissed over his collarbones.

Felix groaned as he placed his hands on your shoulders and gently pushed you away from him so you were face to face. " Can we just talk for a second?" He was still breathless as he held you away from him, resisting the urge to buck his hips up into you.

You were surprised, not sure what to expect as you nodded your head.

He brought one of his hands away from you to scratch the back of his neck. "So I-uh," he closed his eyes tight, trying to figure out the right way to say what he wanted. He opened his eyes but avoided looking into yours, "I have a bit of a reputation of uh, sleeping around. I know it may make me seem like that's all I want but I really like you and I don't want it to come off like I just want a one night stand. Can we take it slow so I can actually date you?"

There was your heart, thumping loud enough to echo through the quiet valley. He looked so cute being this nervous and he liked you? He wanted to date you? You felt admired, wanted and so warm as he sat nervously, waiting for your answer. You moved the short distance between the both of you and gave him a kiss on the cheek, getting his attention so he would finally meet your gaze. "I can take it slow," you reassured him with a smile. You could see the relief wash over Felix's face as the smile that almost permanently sat on his face returned.

Despite being tired from your week with Felix and the long hike, you sat in bed feeling more giddy than ever, recounting all the events that happened today. You felt a blush spread over you as you remembered how Felix had felt against you. How he had told you how he felt. You didn't have to guess or overthink, he just told you what he thought. You wanted to call Hyunjin to tell him everything that happened but it was already late. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

-------

You tried Hyunjin's phone getting sent to voicemail for what felt like the 100th time this week. You hung up and called Seungmin instead who refreshingly, picked up after the first ring.

"Hello pretty lady. What makes you call today?"

"Is Hyunjin there? I have literally not been able to get a hold of him this entire week."

"He's not home. He's been a dick this whole week. I think he's fought with everyone at the house atleast once."

That was weird. Hyunjin could have a temper but it rarely came out and he wasn't one to pick fights quickly. "He must be really stressed over that project. Do you know when he'll be back? I'm gonna force him to take a break."

"I'm not sure when he'll be back but we're having a party tonight and I know he'll be there for that so just come tonight."

You let out a sigh. Another party. "Okay I guess if that's the only way to get a hold of him. Do you know if he's angry with me? I've never seen him be this intense about school." You weren't sure what exactly you could have done to deserve this much of a cold shoulder from him but maybe that's why he had been avoiding you.

"He hasn't talked to me at all, but I'll see you tonight!"

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

You walked into the over crowded frat house trying to navigate your way through the crowd and find a familiar face. You found Seungmin at his spot in the kitchen making drinks.

He gave you a smile and a hug when he saw you, handing you a drink. "You look hot,” was all he said as he looked at you, making you blush at the compliment. You had worn a fitted short dress with thin straps that left most of your cleavage exposed. You smacked Seungmin's arm as he pretended to gawk at you so he would stop teasing.

"Do you know where he is? Has he already found a girl or can I catch him before he disappears?" You didn't want to walk into his room and have a repeat of last weekend.

Seungmin pointed Hyunjin out to you, he was sitting on one of the couches next to some girl- it wasn't Jess to your relief. She had her hands on his arm as she kept talking and he seemed to be barely listening to what she said. He looked so effortlessly gorgous as he sat there in a white button down and black jeans. His black hair framed his face and rings adorned his long fingers as they wrapped around his red solo cup. Not seeing Hyunjin for so many days had made you forget how perfect he looked, almost unreal.

"Good luck, he's been so grumpy," Seungmin said as you made your way through the suffocating crowd again to reach Hyunjin.

You tapped the girl's shoulder, "I'm sorry to interrupt but I really need to talk to Hyunjin." She gave you a dirty look and tried to turn back to Hyunjin. You proceeded to shove yourself between the two of them on the couch, successfully chasing her away after she called you a bitch under her breath.

Hyunjin looked at you but somehow avoided eye contact, "Y/n, what are you doing here?" His voice was quiet but sounded so cold and monotone.

"I came to see you," you tried to place your hand on his but he pulled it away from your grasp. "Is something wrong?" Hyunjin wouldn't look at you and you were starting to get over the silent treatment he was giving you. You chugged your drink and then grabbed Hyunjin's forearm, attempting to drag him off the couch. It wasn't very successful as he didn't even budge an inch despite you using your full force. You held on to him and gave him a pleading look until he got off the couch with a sigh and let you lead him. You ended up taking him to his room so it would be quiet enough to have a conversation. You were happy to find that there wasn't a girl waiting to kiss his face off in his room tonight.

"What do you want?" Hyunjin sounded like an angry teen as he sat down at the edge of his bed.

"I want to know what’s wrong with you. I haven't seen you all week and you've barely spoken to me."

"I told you I was busy." Hyunjin still refused to look at you.

"Did I do something to piss you off? Did something happen? Seungmin told me how grumpy you've been this week."

Hyunjin didn't say anything, looking down at his shoes, still effortlessly gorgeous even when he was moping. You walked up right in front of him and hugged him, pulling him close to you. He didn't resist but he also didn't wrap his arms around you in the way you had become accustomed to. You pulled away and moved your hand under his chin, tilting his head up so he would finally look at you, ignoring the way your heart echoed in your ears at the proximity. His deep brown eyes seemed clouded, like they had a storm brewing behind them that hadn't quite reached the surface.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it but don't ignore me please." You wanted to tell him how much you had missed him this week. How empty and cold your bed had felt without his presence but you knew how needy that would sound and you didn’t want to say those words aloud.

Hyunjin’s eyes softened as he looked into yours, recognizing the concern that flooded them. He spread his knees so you could slot into the space between his legs as he sat at the edge of his bed. His arms finally wrapped around you and he pulled you in so close that you could feel each other breathe.

Hyunjin let out a deep sigh, pulling you even closer, "you didn't do anything wrong. I'm sorry." He closed his eyes and nuzzled his head into your neck. With his lips ghosting over your skin he whispered, "I missed you," so quietly that you almost didn't hear.

Your breath hitched, being this close to Hyunjin was dangerous. You pushed away from him, giving him a warm smile when he looked up at you, loosening his grasp on you. You wiggled out of his arms and began to look around his room. His desk was cluttered with different art supplies, the walls covered in paintings and posters. An easel sat by his window in the corner of the room. It faced away from you so you couldn't see what was painted on the canvas.

"You promised you'd show me your paintings. I think I've earned a private showing by now."

Hyunjin stood up and walked over to his desk to grab a sketchbook. He sat back down on his bed and patted the spot next to him signalling you to sit down. He flipped through the book describing the inspiration behind every painting and picture. His art was breathtaking with such a wide range from delicate water colour paintings of abstract scenery to sketches so precise that they looked like photographs. They gave you a different view into his life: his dog back home, the places he'd seen and his favourite movie scenes.

"So not only is Hyunjin Hwang absolutely gorgeous but he's also extremely talented." You complimented him, not noticing the blush that painted over his cheeks. You kicked off your heeled boots and started to walk around his room, admiring his paintings that decorated his walls.

Hyunjin sat, watching you as you smiled at his paintings, pointing out the scenes of places that you had visited together. He got the chance to take you in. You. Looked. Hot. Your dress left little to the imagination as it hugged every one of your curves. Being away from you for a week had allowed Hyunjin to ignore how he had started feeling about you after the towel incident, but being around you now, looking the way you do- it brought those feelings bubbling back. He was willing himself not to get hard in your presence. Hyunjin had not met with any girl since the last party, your lack of presence in his days making everything feel boring. He had been pent up and he didn’t realize it until you were in front of him, with your perfect lips and in that tight dress. The sight of you was only making his situation harder. While lost in his horny thoughts, Hyunjin did not notice you open up the other sketchbook on his desk.

You felt like you were in your own museum, getting to feel the artist's art not only through the paintings but through his words. Hyunjin was very talented and you lamented not getting to appreciate his art sooner. You finished examining all the paintings on his wall and started to look at the various sketches scattered over his desk, finding a sketchbook that he hadn't shown you yet. As you flipped through the pages you saw some shadow-work and flower paintings. Then you reached a sketch with made you stop turning. The picture was of the library where you always studied, the focus of the sketch being a girl with her hair swept up in a bun, brows furrowed as she held a pen between her teeth and stared down at something in front of her. It was a sketch of you.

"Did you draw me?" You asked Hyunjin while turning to the next page. Here was a drawing of a familiar memory when you and Hyunjin had gone to the beach. There you sat in the sand, looking out at the sea with your beach towel wrapped loosely around your shoulders for warmth. He had drawn it from his perspective. He sat next to you that evening and had captured your side profile while you were unaware, lost in the feeling of the misty breeze that had floated over the ocean.

Your words snapped Hyunjin back to reality. It took him a second but he realized which one of his books you were holding. His eyes widened in panic, "Don't look at that one." He practically shouted as he lunged towards you, aiming to grab the book out of your hands before you could look any further. You tried to dodge him but your reflexes were not quite as fast as his. He swiftly grabbed the book out of your hand but not before you got a glimpse of the next page. You had seen a side profile where the girl wore a loose muscle shirt that showed ample side-boob and allowed her nipple to poke through the thin fabric. What stood out to you was the small rose tattoo that sat beneath her breast, right on the rib. The small tattoo that you had gotten on your 19th birthday, the one that was so easy to hide that very few people knew about it.

You didn't get time to process the intimate drawing as you found yourself trapped between Hyunjin and the desk. He stood against you with one hand on the desk supporting his weight and the other holding the sketchbook behind him. The proximity and the thought of his sketch left you feeling dizzy. You somehow found the breath to say, "Why can't I see it?" Not giving away that you may be aware of exactly why he didn't want you to look.

Hyunjin chose not to answer the question, being unable to think of an excuse when he stood this close to you. Your body pressed up against his and your face so close to his that the smallest movement would allow him to kiss your soft, tinted red lips. He tried to shake the urge to take what he wanted most at this moment. Instead he gently brushed his fingers over your jaw. The touch was so light that you barely felt it, but it was enough to make breathing impossible for you as you stood feeling like a deer in headlights trapped under his intense, almost hungry gaze. He used the same feather light touch to run his fingers down your neck. You still held your breath, heartbeat drowning out all the noise from the party going on just outside the door, leaving you feeling like it was just you and him in this moment.

Suddenly, his fingers stopped their gentle movement as they lingered at the base of your neck. His eyes staring at a spot and his gaze changing from soft to intense fury. He spoke in a quiet, measured voice, "Who did that to you?"

Your attention was brought to the spot that his eyes were fixated on. You ran your hand over it, feeling the tender flesh, realizing it was the spot where Felix had left a hickey on you the night before. You had completely forgotten about it.

"Y/n, who did that?" Hyunjin repeated, voice as quiet as before but the words sounding harsh.

"I uh- I had the date last night and-"

Hyunjin cut you off, "Did you fucking sleep with him?" He scoffed. "One fucking mediocre-ass date and you threw yourself at him." Hyunjin's words dripped with bitterness as he glared at you, his body still pressed against yours and his fingers still hovering over the hickey on your neck.

You attempted to push Hyunjin off of you,"it is none of your fucking business what happened between us." You matched his rage as you continued to push against him, failing to move his body. "Let me go."

"He's going to use you and then toss you aside when he's bored" Hyunjin snapped at you, continuing to trap you with his tall frame.

"Not every guy is like you." You pushed him away one more time, this time he let you go.

Your words rang in Hyunjin's ears. It stung that you thought of him like that, but he knew it was true. You walked away from him and sat down on the edge of his bed again, beginning to lace up your boots. "Where are you going? It's almost 2am."

"You don't need to monitor everything I do." His worry was valid and you felt a bit bad for snapping at him again but you were so angry. Who is he to dictate what sort of relationship you had with Felix? There was finally a decent guy who liked you, who wanted you and who was honest about his feelings and you weren't going to let Hyunjin's dislike of him ruin a potentially good relationship.

Hyunjin swallowed his jealousy, pain and anger, recognizing the rage that you held behind every word. He had just got you back and he did not want to spend anymore time without you. The week truly had been so lonely without you. He walked over and knelt in front of you, slowly taking your hands away from your boots so you would leave the task and acknowledge him. "I'm sorry," he closed his eyes, "I'm being overprotective. I just don't want you to hurt."

You let out a breath, the warmth from his hands working it's way through your anger, reminding you how much you missed him. "I know you care about me and you mean well. I know you don't like him but I promise he's genuine. He really makes me feel special and I trust him."

Hyunjin kept his eyes squeezed shut as you made your case for Felix. Finally, he met your gaze, "Stay over tonight. It's too late for you to go home." You agreed, too tired to go home at this point and looking forward to time with your friend. You spent the rest of the night watching movies in Hyunjin's bed, comfy in his t-shirt, until you both drifted off to sleep. The glimpse of the sketch still at the back of your mind as your eyes fluttered shut.

-------

You joined the line of girls doing the walk of shame out of Sigma Chi the next morning. Hyunjin was still asleep but you needed to go home. You could not shower with his 5-in-1 wash again. Unlike the other girls who tugged on their clothes and uncomfortable shoes from the night before, you had the luxury of leaving in Hyunjin's hoodie and a pair of his sweats.

As you walked out, you heard someone calling your name. You turned to see Felix jogging towards you. "Good morning," he said when he reached you. "What are you up to?"

"Morning. I'm heading home. Hopefully to take a nap," you replied. "What are you doing running on a Sunday morning like a psychopath?"

Felix laughed, "Training doesn't end. But I'm done for now, let me walk you home." He took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. "You were at Sigma Chi?" He tried to sound casual, masking how the question was gnawing at him.

"Yeah. I was at the party last night and ended up staying over since it was late," you explained, not picking up on how Felix clenched his jaw.

He wasn't sure how to prod further without making it seem like he wanted to know what exactly happened. He had been happy this week, thinking Hyunjin had backed off but now he saw you walk out of Hyunjin's house, dressed in clothes that were definitely too baggy to belong to you. He finally blurted out, "you saw Hyunjin?"

"Yeah, I went to see him and we talked it out. It's good to not be fighting anymore." Despite being tired, you felt light. The weight that Hyunjin's absence had left on you finally lifted. Felix on the other hand did not feel as light. Maybe the hickey had been too subtle.

----------

And that's the end of Part 3!!

This is an original work. Do not republish or repost this work in any form, including translations.

©LuvyBlossom

Tags: @chartrucewhore, @meeeds

[therentyoupay]

OH MY GOD are you cool with sharing how your husband proposed to you at Neuschwanstein Castle?!!!!!!!!

sure!!! he did such a good job, i love this story. 😂💕

i presented at a conference in 2022 in europe and dragged my then-boyfriend along lol. he'd never been to europe before! we paid for a one-day private tour around bavaria and neuschwanstein for the last day of our trip.

after going inside the castle (amazing), our tour guides (a duo!) took us to the scary bridge (maria bridge) to get a different view:

please know that my husband is terrified of heights lmao.

while we were on the bridge he was clearly nervous and i—i, who went skydiving two days after i turned eighteen, who loves rollercoasters, who likes adrenaline, generally—was likewise not fully able to take in all the splendor of the fairytale on such a rickety-feeling bridge with so many damn people (and with so many gaps below for phones to potentially slip through!!), so i turned to him and was like, "let's go back."

the man took one look at me, told me, "No," and then fled to the other side of the bridge.

your girl was wearing comfortable footwear, but she had not been planning to chase down her man on a low-key terrifying and crowded bridge over a yawning chasm to a mysterious mountain on the other side, so by the time i got to land, he was already 10 paces ahead. (in retrospect, this should have tipped me off immediately; he would never leave me behind!!! in the moment, i chalked it up to his overwhelming fear of heights and a random burst of self-preservation instincts, but i should have known better, because he would not have left me to die for something as measly as a fear of heights lmao... just proposing 😂)

he would wait for me to catch up on this mysteriously winding dirt (read: MUD) path we'd ended up on after the bridge, but then, as soon as i caught up, he took off up the mountain again. :P

"let's just go back! we don't know what's even over here!"

mind you, at this point, i am now walking this dirt path uphill, and there are like, four people over here, and he's not even holding my hand and watching over me as i make my way up the mountain (like he always does!!!), so now i'm doubly annoyed and wondering why he's desperate to get to the top of this mountain—especially since our tour guides are still waiting for us on the other side of the bridge and are probably wondering where the hell we are.

"not yet!"

by the time we reach the end of the dirt/mud path, i am (a) annoyed, (b) huffing and puffing from the mild sprint we just did up this muddy mountain, (c) pleasantly surprised to find a small, relatively private lookout point with a BEAUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL view of the castle.

there is someone there with a canvas, painting in watercolors. a photographer is taking tons of gorgeous photos. there's like seven people in this little muddy clearing and lookout point, total. it's ridiculously beautiful, and all of my Disney childhood and fairytale dreams are totally satisfied lmao. this is the first place near the castle that has been calm.

we're there for a while, completely enjoying the lack of crowds and this totally majestic view.

at last, i am forced to reluctantly admit, "okay, you were right, this fiasco was definitely worth the random mountain hike." i am still a little annoyed, of course, but it's not so bad now. 😂 it's abating.

until he snarks, "this probably would have been a pretty good place to propose, no?"

still annoyed, and now more so, especially since i've been genuinely waiting for him to propose for like six months, i snark back, "well, then maybe next time bring a ring why don't you?"

he dropped to one knee. 😂

the photographer—who was, in fact, just a random passerby taking his own pictures of the majestic castle—sees my then-boyfriend pull a ring out of his pocket and starts ignoring the castle to take 100000 photos of us random strangers in front of the castle instead, as my then-boyfriend-turned-fiancé-now-husband asked me, "will you marry me?"

spoiler alert: i said yes 😂 the photographer later shared all of the photos with us via email and we sent him a nice big coffee shop digital gift card despite his protests. i was desperately clutching my left hand into a crazy-tight fist (with a new big fat diamond on it!!!!!!) as i went back over the too-scary bridge, while my husband held my right hand (finally 😂).

my favorite favorite photo is the close-up of my husband's knee, in which his jeans are completely and utterly covered in mud. 😂😂😂😂😂💕💕

[patdkoala]

Familiar Feeling

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Female reader

Warnings: SMUT NO PLOT (They literally just met), unprotected sex, they fuck everywhere

I just moved into a new apartment with my two best friends, Faith and Lane.

Faith is a writer and swears that the Marvel actor, Sebastian Stan lives in our apartment building. Lane is an actor and she agrees with me and thinks that Faith is losing her mind.

None of us have seen him in the building. He is like our own little myth.

One day, Faith was out at a meeting and Lane was at an audition.

I was left alone so I was just cleaning up the apartment. I cleaned my room and the main courters. I then decided to take the trash out and on my way, I swear I saw Sebastian taking his trash out.

He smiled at me as he passed by me.

I quickly turned around and spoke.

"You're Sebastian Stan aren't you," I said as he nodded.

"Yeah, we're neighbors I think. I've seen you around," He said.

"You've seen me around? My two roommates have been on the lookout for you ever since my one roommate thought she saw you in the laundry room."

"Yeah, I've seen you around. You always wear those shorts with the pink string," He said as he eyed me up and down.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were flirting with me, Mr. Stan," I said as I smirked at him.

"What if I was? And it's Sebastian."

I just smiled at him and then walked past him to dump my garbage.

"I'm going to go back up to my apartment where my two roommates are not and I am going to run a bath to wash off the trash shoute," I said as I sashayed past him. I could feel his eyes on my ass as I moved past him.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," I said as his eyes averted back to my eyes.

He dropped his trash off and then followed me into the elevator.

I stood against one wall and he stood against the other with his hands in his pockets.

I was the one standing closest to the buttons so I pushed the emergency stop button.

Sebastian practically flung his body over to me and pinned me against a wall.

"Needy girl needs me so bad, huh?" He asked as he wrapped a hand in my hair and neck. He kissed me so deeply and passionately. I'd never been touched like this before and didn't want it to stop.

He went over and turned the elevator back on.

We got off on my floor. I do quite literally mean, got off.

I held his hand and led him into my apartment.

"It's really clean in here. It smells like you," He said as he took a deep breath.

I smiled at the thought that he already likes the smell of me after one day together. Not even one day. Maybe a couple minutes. We've just immediately clicked with each other.

"Do you want something to drink? Maybe something to eat? We might have some leftovers in the fridge."

"No, only you," He said as he sighed and sat down on my couch.

I smiled and walked over to him on the couch.

I stood in front of him and he pulled my pants down along with my panties. He then pulled down his pants and underwear.

I sat down on him facing him.

He moaned out as I rode him. He grabbed at my hips and I tugged on him all over.

"Fuck, you feel better than I thought," He said as he grabbed my ass and squeezed tightly.

"Oh my god," I moaned as I came around him. He pushed me off of him before he came inside of me.

I pulled my pants and he pulled up his haphazardly right before we heard the door open to the apartment.

"Oh my god! Did you hear? Apparently, someone saw Sebastian Stan leave the elevator on THIS floor!" Faith yelled as she and Lane entered the room.

"HOLY FUCK!" Lane screamed as she smacked her hand to her face.

"You're Sebastian Stan," Faith said as Sebastian stood up and he shyly smiled and waved at the two girls.

"Yeah, he's going to be here for a bit. We were just uhm. Hanging out," I said as Sebastian turned pink and the girls quickly gathered their belongings and then turned around and left the apartment.

"I'm sorry about them. They are just fangirls and I was just-"

He pulled me into another kiss. A kiss that felt like we knew each other. Like we are closer than we actually are.

"You taste so good and I can't get enough of it," He said as I jumped up and wrapped my legs around his hips.

He carried me to the kitchen counter and sat me down on top of it.

He pulled my soaked panties down along with his pants to show that he was already hard again.

I was trembling and waiting for him again.

He pushed himself into me and found a steady pace as he hit my G-Spot ever so often. Enough to make me squirm and scream under his touch.

He had one hand on my lower back, holding me up so I don't fall off the counter. The other hand was on the counter steadying himself so he didn't fall to his knees.

I came again and he pulled out again.

"I think that just about finished me off," He said as he put his pants on. I slid off the counter like a puddle.

"I don't even think I remember how to walk," I said as he held me by the waist to stabilize me.

"Oh, Sebastian. Don't touch me like that unless you want me all over you again," I said as he removed his hands ever so slowly. I thought I was going to fall right then and there.

So I did.

I slowly fell to my knees. His hands went to my hair as I undid his pants that were on his body for less than a few minutes.

I sucked him off as he braced himself by holding onto the counter behind me.

"Please," He moaned as I continued. I knew he barely had anything left in him and this was probably hurting him. But, him begging me like that felt so good.

He tugged on my head a little once he released it in my mouth.

I stood up and wiped my mouth off.

"Go spit in the sink," He said as I opened my mouth to show him I'd already swallowed.

"That's disgusting," He said with a hidden smirk.

We both cleaned up and I went to change.

He was sitting on the couch just scrolling through his phone when I came back.

"I should get going because I have an appointment for a photoshoot but, I would love to take you out on a real date sometime. Today was the best day I've had in a really long time," He said as he handed me a piece of paper with his number on it.

"Call me," He said as he walked over and kissed me before walking out the door.

Lane and Faith came home later that night and I felt dirty so I cleaned the counter and I mopped the floor. But I forgot about the couch.

It wasn't until late late that night when Faith was sitting on the couch next to me. "What are these stains?" She asked as I just looked between her and Lane.

"Those stains are-" I paused before trying to come up with something. "Yeah, I don't know what those stains are."

[sandiavolo]

Can you share even a little spoiler about Ash Navi? I can't help but wonder if Trr'ong is the only human in the clan? And where do they get exopacks for him? Oh and does his name have a deeper translation? Of course, I understand if you prefer not to share it for now haha

Ash Na'vi lore *Slight Spoiler*

As opposed to the norm of the typical Na'vi, my Ash Na'vi do not have a single shred of belief in Eywa. Constant years of hardship have cultivated a distance between the Ash People and the Great Mother. Rather, they refuse to believe she is more than just an idea that the others parade in their faces. While this is known by most other clans, it is uncertain just what exaclty they derive their beliefs (or non-belief) from, only that they have thrown away the love the Great Mother wished to dispose onto them when she first created them. The Metka'yina especially play with the idea that they worship fire b/c they are drawn to it; a torrent of fire is a personification of the pain and suffering the entire clan itself can bring.

They do however, believe in something called "Kelku te Tsawke", or "House of the Sun". I will be delving into this much further and with more details in a separate post, but for now, think of it as essentially being a form of Valhalla.

Spider/Trr'ong Lore

Spider is indeed the first, and only, skyperson to ever wander into the hands of the Ash Na'vi. Believe it or not, this doesn't mean they do not know humans exist, or of their differences to Na'vi. But since his arrival, all the Ash Na'vi have pushed themselves to become familiar with Spider's uniquq attributes and characteristics. They do so to ensure he is comfortable and never in any danger on the alien planet. Some, like Trr'ong's siblings and young children, personally love his extra finger and toe.

There is actually a deeper story to how Trr'ong was able to survive amongst the Ash Na'vi, given his limitations. It involves a much deeper history between the isle that the Ash People reside on, and even involves the RDA. I've actually been working on a special interlude chapter and post that dives into this. It is called "Project Vesuvius", so be on the lookout for that!

In the Na'vi dialect, "trr'ong" means "dawn/sunrise". And yes, there is a much deeper reason behind the name choice than just it sounding nice. The sunrise symbolizes many things, such as birth, resurrection, and the new begininning of all kinds. It is not just the name of an Ash Na'vi. It is the new ending for "Spider", and a new beginning for "Trr'ong". Both of them being the same person, yet having completely different lives. For me, this was a new opportunity at life for him.

I am so sorry for the very late reply 🙏 It has been such a creatively challenging few weeks for me, and the last chapter really took a lot out of me. I'm planning on making up for it with special posts, ft. stories about Ash Na'vi culture and important events. But thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you have a great day 💙