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magical-reid · 3 days ago

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A Thanksgiving to Remember

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader (No use of Y/N)

Genre: fluff

Content warnings: none

Word count: 1.3K

Prompts:

#28 “You owe me.” “I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your partner to get your parents off you’re back.”

#47 “I think I’m falling in love with you.” “I think I’m okay with that.”

______________________________________________________________

It was Thanksgiving at your parents' house, and you were already regretting your decision to come. The smell of roasting turkey and pumpkin pie filled the air, mingling with the sounds of laughter and clinking dishes. As always, your extended family was gathered in the living room, and they were doing what they did best—asking the same questions.

“So, still no boyfriend?” your aunt Marge asked, her voice high-pitched and just a little too loud for your taste as she passed you a plate of mashed potatoes. “You’re not getting any younger, sweetheart.”

You forced a smile, taking the plate from her hands. “Aunt Marge, I’m good, really,” you said, trying to deflect the conversation.

Your cousin Rachel piped up, “Yeah, it’s about time you found someone. You should really try online dating or, I don’t know, maybe—”

“I’m fine,” you said again, cutting her off. "Really."

But it didn’t end there. Every time you turned around, someone else was there with their unsolicited advice or questions about your non-existent love life. It was exhausting.

You sighed quietly, trying to tune out the noise, but there was no getting around it. “Maybe I should just bring someone next year,” you muttered under your breath, picking at the salad in front of you.

______________________________________________________________

“Next year” came quicker than you would’ve like and you still didn’t have your plan set in motion and then it hit you. Your mind snapped to one of your oldest friends. Morgan.

Morgan knew you well enough to know how to get under your skin, but he also owed you something. A bet from a few months ago, one that he’d conveniently forgotten about, had never been paid off. He’d promised you $20, but you’d decided that money wasn’t going to be enough. You needed a more... creative solution.

Later, you found him in the kitchen, casually sipping from a beer bottle as he leaned against the counter, chatting with JJ about something work-related. You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms.

“Morgan,” you said, catching his attention. He looked up and smiled at you, eyebrows raising in that playful way he had. “I need your help.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Help with what?”

You stepped into the kitchen and lowered your voice so the others wouldn’t overhear explaining your situation. Reminding him: “You owe me.”

Morgan laughed, shaking his head. “I owe you $20, not a day of pretending to be your boyfriend to get your parents off your back.”

You shot him a pleading look. “You don’t have to pretend. I just need you to show up. You’ve been promising to pay me back for months, and now it’s time to cash in.”

Morgan gave you a skeptical look. “You’re not serious. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for a whole Thanksgiving dinner just so your parents stop grilling you about your love life?”

You gave him a tight smile. “Yes, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t back out this time.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Why don’t you ask Reid? He doesn’t have plans, and I know he would love to spend the day with you.”

You blinked. Spencer Reid. Of course.

The idea settled in your mind like the final piece of a puzzle. Spencer had always been there for you, another one of your closest friends, and there was something about the way he made you feel seen and heard that was hard to ignore. You’d never considered him in that way—until now. But he’d be perfect. Sweet, thoughtful Spencer Reid.

“Fine,” you said, nodding. “I’ll ask him. But if he says no, I’m coming back for you, Morgan.”

Morgan grinned. “Good luck with that. I’ll see you at the dinner table.”

The next morning, you called Spencer. You felt your heart skip a beat when he picked up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Spencer, it's me," you said, trying to sound casual. "I know this is going to sound a little weird, but... I was wondering if you could help me out with something for Thanksgiving."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could practically hear his brain working. "Help you out with what?"

“Well, my family has been asking me a lot of questions about my non-existent love life,” you began, biting your lip. “And I need a favor. I was wondering if you’d be willing to come with me to dinner, pretend to be my boyfriend for a few hours, and—”

“I’m in,” he interrupted, and you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Wait, really?” You blinked, surprised. Spencer didn’t usually do anything unless it was deeply thought through, but he was practically jumping at the chance.

"Yeah, I mean, I don’t have any big plans. Plus, it sounds like fun."

You grinned. “Thank you, Spencer. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

Thanksgiving came, and Spencer arrived at your parents' house looking absolutely perfect. He was dressed casually, a simple button-up shirt tucked into dark jeans, but he wore it like it was tailor-made. You caught a glimpse of him as he walked up to the front door, and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked so... natural. Like he belonged here.

He was a hit from the moment he walked in.

Spencer immediately jumped into action, offering to help your mom set up the table, making polite conversation with your relatives, and even playing games with the kids. At one point, he entertained them with a few simple magic tricks, causing the little ones to cheer and clap. He was effortlessly charming, the perfect boyfriend.

And then, as you watched him pull out a chair for your grandmother and help her sit down, you realized you hadn’t been giving Spencer enough credit. He wasn’t just good at pretending to be your boyfriend—he was the kind of guy you would want to spend forever with.

Later, while everyone else was busy eating and chatting, you and Spencer took a quiet walk out back, toward the woods behind your parents’ house. The sun was just starting to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

You both walked in comfortable silence, the air crisp against your skin as you ventured deeper into the trees. Spencer’s hands were tucked into his jacket pockets, and you couldn’t help but steal a glance at him every so often. Something had shifted between you today. He was the same Spencer you’d always known, but the way he held himself around you, the way he had stepped in without hesitation… it had made you see him differently.

Finally, after a few minutes of walking, you stopped, turning to face him. The soft glow of the setting sun illuminated his features, casting a warm light on his face. He looked at you with an expression that was a mix of curiosity and something deeper.

“Spencer,” you began, your voice quiet but steady. “I just wanted to say... thank you. You really helped me out today, and I couldn’t have done it without you.”

He smiled, but there was something else in his eyes. “I’m glad I could be here for you,” he said softly. “I’ll always be here for you.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions catching up with you. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Spencer.”

His eyes softened, and he took a step closer to you, a faint smile curling at the corners of his lips. “I think I’m okay with that.”

In that moment, you realized something you hadn’t fully acknowledged before: you didn’t need to pretend. You didn’t need to act for anyone else. Because you and Spencer—well, you were already something real.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x yn #dr spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid series #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds series #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagines #magical-Reid

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florenceafternoon · 2 days ago

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━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Thank you to all the authors who share their wonderful stories with us. I hope this list reminds you that I come back to these stories often and that your words are loved by many.

As always, these fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon compliant.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries.

A Hundred Visions and Revisions by @yallthemwitches

She loves him like this: sleepy, slap happy, sometimes a bit handsy but willing to meet her where she’s at in the moment. It’s the quiet moments like this that keep her going sometimes, knowing that whatever is happening out there will disappear by the end of the day when they can hold each other again.

To live for the hope of it all

Whispers in the Dark also by yallthemwitches

When Lily is awarded her prefect badge in fifth year, they warn her that James Potter has a talent for disappearing... but if that's true, why does he keep coming to her night after night, hoping to be caught?

Until the Light Takes Us also by yallthemwitches

A series of drabbles and fics following the prompt of Jilytober Fest 2024.

color theory by @clare-with-no-i

Lily Evans learns about love: its hues, its tints, its shades. Some disappoint. Some dazzle.

falling (for fools) by @jjameslily

She hated him. Hated his confidence, his messy charm, the way he managed to take up space even when he wasn’t saying a word.

Absolutely. Totally. Without question.

But, as much as she tried to focus, she couldn’t shake the nagging thought.

She’d never noticed just how distracting James Potter could be.

don’t let it make you cry also by jjameslily

Her eyes glistened, the love within her radiating from her. She let it ripple outward, weaving her spirit into the air around him, reaching beyond the veil, hoping he—Harry, their son—would feel it not as a ghost of a fleeting memory, but as a pulse. Alive. Real.

Quid Pro Quo by StarsAndDiamond (on ao3)

Lily Evans was not ready to go home for her sister's Christmas engagement, but she wasn't the only one up late at night in the common room.

Sharper Than Hope by @maraudersftw

“You’re…” A lick of lips; something sharper than hope on my tongue; another attempt. “You fancy me?”

every single time by @gigglesandfreckles-hp

Unrelated drabbles, fics, ficlets, and word dumps in response to jilytober 2024 prompts

2, 5, 10, 11, 12, 16, 19, 21, 27, 29 and 30 are my favourites

Lucky Number 7 by zipadeea (on ao3)

Lily Evans thought life at Hogwarts was busy enough for her, what with Prefect duties and N.E.W.T classes and meetings with the Slug Club. Then, Marlene convinces her to try out for the Gryffindor quidditch team.

Written because James was a Chaser, and I'm convinced Harry's athletic abilities come from both sides of the family tree.

crawl home by @annabtg

He doesn’t know if he’s alive or dead. All he knows is that he wants to go home.

Exhale by @petalsthefish

"Shhh," James leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers. "I’m so sorry, but I have to set the bones again. It’s okay to cry, you're doing so well. So well, baby."

"Fuck," she whimpered through her tears. "I hate this."

"I know, I know," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I hate this too, sweetheart."

Masquerade also by petalsthefish

James was going to jinx Sarah Hitchkes.

It was Sarah Hitchkes who conceived the entire idea, driven by two main motives. First, it was a fun and creative way for everyone to showcase their Patronuses. Second, it gave her the perfect excuse to throw a massive party. Scheduled for July 31st at her sprawling estate, the event was open to all the sixth- and seventh-year students. She dubbed it the “Patronus Party,” and it was set to be the social highlight of the summer—provided you could produce a corporeal Patronus.

this trope will always be a favorite of mine

Coincidence also by petalsthefish

“You look miserable.” Mary commented, noting Lily’s bored expression.

"I need to make out with someone like I need to breathe." Lily Evans hissed as she swirled her butterbeer and peered around the bar.

"James Potter's free."

In Their Short Time by @hogwartslivy

It was one hell of a love story. One that had a most tragic, untimely ending. They could never have guessed as mere children sitting across from one another on the train, all excitement and nerves and emotions, that their stories, all hopes and fears and loves, were to be forever intertwined.

Something Old Something New by @chiechie97

Weddings are the most beautiful things in the world. Unless you accidentally end up at your ex... somethings house to play violin at a family wedding.

Lily Evans just wants to get payed and go home to her cat. Perhaps she should have asked more questinos about the location and clients of her string quartets latest gig.

It’s Always You by @joyseuphoria

5 times jily kissed before they started dating

I'll keep your brittle heart warm by Iphigenniaa (on ao3)

Lily Evans didn't have to wash the blood off her hands that night, but she did have to wash the burning odor from her clothes, which seemed to soak even her own insides.

A Life With You by @kay-elle-cee

A Jily Lives AU collection of small moments from Hogwarts onwards, using the 31 Jilytober tumblr prompts.

7, 8, 10, 11, 12, 15, 17, 18, 20, 22, 24, 29 and 30 are my favourites

don't forget me by blackcanarys (on ao3)

At the height of the First Wizarding War, Lily Evans finds herself contemplating life, death and her mortality after a routine Order mission in 1978.

It's All Politics by acciosalmon (on ao3)

The most constant emotional sentiment in Lily's Hogwarts career was her complete and utter loathing of one William Mulciber

I have yet to read this one, but it was recomended to me because it explores how jily's power dynamic is altered when James isn't potraied as white but Lily is

#lily evans #james potter #jily #jily fic rec list #this is mostly my favourites from jilytober ‘24

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umemiyan · 1 day ago

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𝙄𝙉 𝘽𝙀𝘼𝙐𝙏𝙄𝙁𝙐𝙇 𝘿𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙈𝙎.

𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗧𝗔 𝗢𝗞𝗞𝗢𝗧𝗦𝗨 𝗫 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥. ⌇ 18+ only, mdni / incest / noncon somnophilia (char. receiving) / so like… kinda dom!reader if you wanna look at it like that, but it’s not really a hard dynamic in this / unprotected piv / some codependent vibes / reader has a vagina but there are no other physical or gendered descriptors / 3.2k words

notes: this was supposed to be for kinktober with the prompts incest + somnophilia, and i'm a whole month late but here we are!!! once again i have managed to have no chill and have overdone it a bit so it took me forever. but enjoy! thank you to everyone who originally voted in my kinktober polls <3 (moon dividers by cafekitsune)

He never sleeps as well as when he’s with you, and that has never been less than fact.

The dark circles under his eyes had settled in after years of strife and the both of you growing “too old” to sleep side by side, at least according to your family. It wasn’t healthy, they said. You needed to learn to respectively mature on your own, they said.

Yuuta tried. He did. Although he had been steered away from his one shining beacon of light in a world full of darkness, what sort of brother would he be if he held you back from growing into the best version of yourself? To be selfish and indulge in his childish wants and needs was a frequent guilty desire of his, but he ultimately forced himself to refrain as much as he could manage.

He never slept well after that; not unless he could find an excuse to sneak into your bed, or you sneak into his. You were a sedative every time, lulling him to sleep with the warmth of your breath and body, familiar closeness stripping the worries of the world away so that he could rest. Nothing else ever worked so perfectly, even now that you both have grown.

That’s why, after the conclusion of a family gathering, sneaking into each other’s presence was a no-brainer.

Yuuta had joined you in the guest bedroom of your childhood home to decompress after his inability to do so alone. The both of you had taken on many responsibilities throughout the day, and while he certainly enjoyed spending time with the family, a restful night alone with you was what he craved the most by the end of it. Thankfully, having felt the same way, you didn’t hesitate to raise the covers and let him slide under until you both chit-chatted yourselves to sleep.

Now, Yuuta’s arms keep you close with their gentle grip around your waist, having at some point pulled you into him until the tips of your noses are mere inches apart. You’ve fluttered out of sleep for a moment to see him resting peacefully with all the grace of an angel, wearing his slumber so effortlessly as though it never dares to evade him.

But it does, because the darkened skin beneath his eyes has made its home there for longer than you can recall, telling all who will listen that he is tormented by the absence of something. Whether it be proper brain chemistry, the responsibility to maintain a schedule, or simple peace of mind, no one knows as he never divulges, but Yuuta is haunted by lack, and not even your keen sense of sibling intuition can sniff out just what it is that he needs. Or so you believe, at least.

Although he receives the brunt of it, you can feel it too—the ache. It settles deep within every crevice to remind you of its presence whenever you dare to forget, no matter how often you seem to shove it away with success. It always rattles your bones until Yuuta smiles in your direction like the sun revealing itself from a place behind the clouds, and you are reminded of fulfillment.

Oh, how he is your sunshine; your magnificent ray of light. It warms the cavity of your chest even as you lie here in the darkness.

Fingertips trace over the matching darkness beneath his eyes and down the slope of his nose to the outline of his pink, parted lips. He doesn’t even stir, too weighed upon by the thick blanket of sleep to pay any mind. You are delirious with awe, stricken by the heavenly beauty of the one who quells the ache. Does he know you love him so? Is he aware of the radiant beauty that compels you to draw closer like a moth to the flame?

Will he know if you lean forward to press an indulgent kiss upon his lips?

It’s a gentle peck that makes his brow twitch with unconscious curiosity. Were you privy to his dreams, you’d see that you’ve entered them, breathing life into his senses with every careful touch until his skin grows hot.

You fear you’ve woken him once his hips stir, but sleep pervades even as Yuuta’s breath seems to tickle your skin with more frequency, every quickened beat of his heart causing the more shallow rising of his lungs. You dare to press your lips to his once more, desperate for the satisfaction of his reaction, and you aren’t disappointed—Yuuta’s embrace tightens around you, breath hitching discreetly like a startled angel’s, and it’s when his hips roll forward again that the hardness pressing against your lower half becomes evident.

He dreams of your gentle kisses, of your breath gracing his skin, and he returns the favor in his mind now that he knows you’ll allow it. It will be a source of shame once he awakens, but dreams of this caliber are few and far between, something to be cherished in the moment without guilt or hesitation. As if he even has a choice.

Carefully, you hike your leg up over his hip to press yourself closer to the part of him that strains against fabric. You want to feel intertwined, strange as it might be; you want to infiltrate his mind like he does yours, sense his want and need, try and be privy to things that cannot possibly be known. But it’s so easy to be close like this, as though it were always meant to be, or always had been.

He’s warm between your hips. Real. The antidote to a deepseated loneliness and need to be with another, even if only in superficial touch. But will you settle for that?

No. You are greedy.

Yuuta, still captured in a dream, is somewhat easy to maneuver onto his back with a few gentle pushes, his body desperate to mold to yours until you are perfectly perched atop him. He slots between your thighs like he was made to be there, and you can almost feel his warm cock twitch through his pajamas beneath the new weight of your hips. The adjacent scenario in his mind grows increasingly realistic while you grow hungrier for every facet of his reaction.

Does he dream of you? Does he long for the sensation of your bodies finding harmony with one another like you do? You can’t say you haven’t imagined it yourself prior, mind drifting to the taboo when presented with his matured figure, though it still holds the same heat of familiarity from when you would curl up next to each other in your youth. It’s the ultimate combination of love and desecration that satisfies this abhorrent hunger you’ve found yourself plagued by, and even if it causes everything around you to come tumbling down, you can’t find it within yourself to care.

Yuuta’s breath hitches once more, brow furrowing as you rock yourself down against him with care. You know he deserves an undisturbed rest, even if the one he dreams of isn’t you, so you daren’t wake him now of all times. You’ll aid in his unconscious need while also indulging in your own.

You grind your hips a number of times, but the results are consequently underwhelming. The softness with which you must do it to avoid waking him is to blame, your lust being inhibited to prevent you from moving against him with the entirety of your animalistic need.

Yuuta, however, grunts with pleasure at the friction while you selfishly yearn for more, so after diligently working the waistband of his pants to sit a few inches lower on his hips, you pull your panties to the side and press your wet cunt directly upon the bulge in his briefs.

You shiver at the contact, resisting the urge to moan out loud into the quiet air as Yuuta’s cock rubs against you through the thinnest of layers. He’s leaky and throbbing below your clit as it drags once, twice, three times over him in an establishing rhythm, fabric growing wetter with each pass you make and his gentle moans escaping with greater frequency. You bite down on the collar of your shirt to refrain from mimicking his vocalization, but upon another scan with your eyes, you recall that there are other things you could be doing with your mouth.

Yuuta’s throat is exposed as his head lolls off to the side on the pillow, and you lean down to busy yourself with reverent kisses upon the sensitive skin. Your hips stutter in their movement now that you have succumb to the distraction of sucking on his neck, but Yuuta doesn’t seem to mind—in fact, he mewls and whines so decadently in his sleep that you are compelled to make the regrettable decision of sucking until there is a mark that reveals itself once you remove your lips.

And oh, does he look gorgeous adorning it.

You pull back to admire his needy image, but Yuuta wriggles and presses his hips up unto yours, apparently dissatisfied with your absence and seeking something more, only to make you dizzy with arousal and irrational need. He doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you, but it’s guiding you down yet another path of no return. Your beautiful angel is sending you straight to the pits of hell, and he isn’t even fully aware.

(If you could know of his dreams, you’d see that he feels quite similarly about you.)

The wet mess of Yuuta’s briefs are pulled down until his aching cock can spring out and dribble a string of precum onto his lower belly. There, a trail of dark hair paints the milky skin with masculinity, and you admire the sight for a good moment before sliding your finger over his wet tip until the muscles in his stomach twitch with delight.

Yuuta is so responsive and so malleable, easy to take in his sleep now that he feels safe enough to fall into a slumber as delectable as this. You are almost stricken finally with guilt for taking advantage of such a level of trust, but even in his unconscious state, it feels as though Yuuta is pleading for you to take him back as your most cherished thing, the one you are closest with and know more of than anyone or anything else. You feel a certain beckoning towards making up for all the years you were forced to maintain an artificial distance, to pretend as though you didn’t ache for the only person who knew you so deeply and so truly.

Stifling the hunger only made it worse in the end, because now Yuuta’s cock weeps when you stroke it and slide it between your wet folds, signaling to you that this is somehow the right decision. Perhaps it’s a matter of delusion rather than truth, but sinking down onto him fills you with nothing but pure, unfettered gratification.

You don’t hesitate to make him bottom out inside you, eager to be overwhelmed by him in every way, even if it forces a whimper to spill from your lips in the process. Yuuta responds in kind as the snug fit allows a cascade of warmth to wash over him, blissfully unaware that he is now closer to you than he ever has been, and that he cries out in his sleep over it. It’s diabolical, really, but your dear brother wears pleasure so beautifully on his face that you can’t help but fall deeper into your pit of depravity.

A wet noise makes itself known amongst heavy breaths when you raise yourself up and drop back down on his length. It’s an act so indiscreet that you can only accomplish it twice more before Yuuta’s moans shift into noises with more presence, brows furrowed, body shuffling, and eyes cracking open to be met with the sight of your hips flush against his, cock constricted by the same blinding heat he felt seconds before waking up.

Eyes growing wide, his heart leaps out of his chest with a sudden surge of panic. “What are you—hah—d-doing—?1”

Yuuta is cut off by the palm of your hand slamming over his mouth to dampen the noise, his sounds of pleasure and surprise reaching a volume that makes you wary in a house in which you are not alone.

“Shh, Yuuta, shh…” you warn in a whisper, allowing him a second to process the danger of letting his voice raise too high, all while keeping your hips moving steadily against his.

Gradually, the panicked breathing through his nose settles to something more manageable, and Yuuta’s eyes roll into the back of his skull with a muffled grunt. “Does it feel good?” you ask, and he nods his answer, having further transitioned from alarm to living out the sinking, heavenly feeling of being coupled with you in his dream.

The morality of it all claws painfully at the back of his skull, but Yuuta is too inundated with the physical and spiritual need that has consumed you both to pay anything else much attention. He conforms to your will because it aligns so well with his own.

“Can you be quiet?”

He nods again, seeking a firm grip against your hips as you hesitantly remove your hand from his mouth. Yuuta swallows down a breath and refrains from speaking despite all the thoughts that race through his head, and you are pleased to see how receptive he is to this unthinkable act.

It could certainly be a fawn response from a peacekeeper such as himself, but you know he is capable of putting his foot down once a certain line has been crossed. He could throw you off him in an instant if he truly felt so deeply wronged by your actions, yet he chooses to stay nestled between your thighs and buried deep in your cunt after you take him over and over, because he wants this.

Doesn’t he?

The look in his teary eyes says he does, and so do the ragged breaths, the quivering lip between his teeth to bite back a moan, the way you swear he almost aids in guiding you up and down his length…

Yuuta, for the moment, looks to be as enthralled as you are by this disastrous development, and that reaffirming image alone will accompany you every day until you have at least one foot in the grave.

He is porcelain and pristine, framed by pillows and moonlight and looking a touch too fragile as though he might break with the next slam of your hips, but you know him to be hardy after all that has tried to chip away at him throughout his short life. Yuuta’s strength in love and spirit is as strong as the pale fingers that dig into your flesh, and he has decided amidst it all to be yours for this moment; a blessing bestowed upon you that could make the gratitude utterly burst forth from your chest.

You want to spill your glee upon his lips, have him know that you are thankful for his gratuity even if this is the first and only time he will give it, so you lean down to steal him for another kiss that he returns tenfold. Yuuta’s lips are more alive in his waking state and more than happy to drink in your taste between shaking breaths, the intimacy of having your tongue slide along his lower lip twisting the tightness in his gut to where it could rupture at any moment.

There’s a muffled whimper as he chases your hips, instincts unveiled but not more so than the part of him that has yearned for this for far longer than he can even recall. Now that it has been offered to him on a silver platter, he will devour and cherish it for the feast that it is, even if he doesn’t last long enough to savor every morsel to the extent he would like.

“I want you to cum,” you breathe, leading him ever closer towards that dangerous edge as if you know what sullies his mind. To hear those words in your voice, even if in a whisper, are like the gates of an abominable heaven opening up for him. “Please.”

Yuuta is incapable of denying you for even less. A plea of such magnitude rattles his bones and nearly strips him of all free-will, commanding his body to succumb to its base desires and seek fulfillment through finishing inside you. He relinquishes control and is punched by the pleasure that follows, hiding his face against your throat and fighting to keep his moan suppressed to an acceptable volume.

His warmth takes over you from the inside in spurts, twitching out of him at your deepest point as you settle against his base and further soak the dark curls around it with your arousal. You let him ride the high until he is empty and panting, and only then do you rise up and place a finger against your clit, circling it with a grind of your hips to enhance the pleasure that had been building in your core.

Yuuta watches in awe despite the sensitivity that spurs from your walls squeezing around his used cock, but he has never been more thrilled to be utilized. It doesn’t take long for you to come crashing down to join him in the orgasmic bliss that has you collapsing against his chest with a series of bone-chilling shivers, the satisfaction greater and more incomprehensible than you could’ve imagined.

The two of you are a heap of heavy breaths and quivering muscles, staring into each other’s eyes as the reality of the situation attempts to set in. As much as it should feel repulsive and regrettable, your actions nothing less than reprehensible, your greatest fear is the selfish one of hearing Yuuta say he doesn’t love you anymore. It would be most understandable after what you’ve done, but it frightens you nonetheless.

He struggles to catch his breath and confirm that this wasn’t just a figment of his dastardly imagination. “What—”

Yuuta doesn’t get the chance to stammer out a question before you cut him off with a kiss—a kiss that is so deep and desperate it screams your despair over it possibly being the final one.

You pull back and curl into his neck with murmured remorse. “I’m sorry, Yuuta. I’m sorry.”

His heart flutters with overwhelm but is ultimately on the brink of accepting that something within finally feels actualized. Will he be damned for submitting to it? Is it an insult to his being to so willingly yield after being explicitly taken without permission? Or was it necessary for him in order to reach this point all along?

Yuuta holds no animosity in his heart regardless of whether or not it is warranted. All he carries is a deep sense of love and appreciation.

Wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace, he fully savors your closeness at last.

“Don’t be,” he says.

He’s just glad it isn’t a dream anymore.

#yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #jjk x reader #my writing.#re: yuuta okkotsu

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 2 days ago

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Skira - Part One

Author's Note: When I decided to join in on @beefrobeefcal's Glandalorian 2024 challenge (which was putting Din Djarin in a gladiatorial setting, including a specific phrase, and somehow referencing Dieter Bravo) I thought, foolishly, that I could write a quick little one shot. Well, first, admittedly, I thought I was nuts for wanting to do this because I've struggled with writing lately and because I never feel super confident writing Din. But after I reconciled with the fact that I had indeed lost my mind, I thought this would be brief. It's not. And I'm not sorry. I am, however, thankful for this challenge, because it absolutely helped get the creative juices flowing again! This part is truly just a set up for what's to come, and doesn't directly have any of the prompts in it - but I can promise you that they will show up in part two (posting Friday, Nov. 29th!)

Word Count: 4,248

Warnings: canon-typical violence

Summary: Skira is Mando'a for revenge - with a personal edge.

Nevarro

You stared out the window of the cabin, watching the crisp, clean bed sheets you’d been hanging on the clothesline flap and flutter in the dry breeze. The woven laundry basket you’d used to carry them had fallen over on its side, another still-damp sheet spilling out onto the ashy ground. A frown drew your lips downward as you focused on the dark gray smudges that the previously clean linen had already collected. Well, that one’s ruined.

Maybe it was silly, having a thought like that in a situation like the one you were in. But it was all you could do to keep the panic from overtaking you, so you honed in on the mundane, frown deepening. I wanted them to be clean for when he came home, but now-

THUD!

The slam of a tightly balled fist on the table in front of you made you gasp and jump, your head whipping around to face the threat you’d been trying to block out.

“Answer the karking question, poppet.” The Abyssin sneered at you from across the table. His oversized thugs hovered behind him, their hands resting on the holsters of their blasters to remind you that all it would take was one word from their boss and you’d be done for.

Like I need reminding.

The tip of your tongue slid across your split lower lip, finding a trickle of blood from where you’d caught a backhand when you were trying to escape the strangers who had attacked your home. You knew quite well what men like them were capable of. Their little show of power was unnecessary. You’d been acutely aware of the danger you were in from the moment they appeared on the property. That didn’t mean that you wanted to give them the satisfaction of showing them any fear, though.

You swallowed and put all of your effort into keeping your voice even as you blinked at your captor. “Sorry, I was distracted by…” You lifted one hand to point at the discarded sheets, the binders around your wrists forcing the other hand to rise with it. Shaking your head, you sighed. “Can you repeat your question?”

The Abbysin, who had introduced himself to you as Kol Karesh while his men had dragged you by your bound wrists and dumped you into the chair you were sitting in, growled in frustration. “The Mandalorian,” he hissed, palms flat against the table as he leaned across it to get closer to you. “Where is the Mandalorian that killed my brother?”

Furrowing your brow, you decided to make your only move - a bluff. “Mandalorian?” You shook your head in question, doubling down on your gamble. “I… I think you’ve got the wrong place. Maybe even the wrong planet. I’ve never even seen-”

Your lie was cut short when the gruff gangster’s meaty hand shot across the table to snatch the pendant hanging from your neck. He gave it a sharp yank, tugging you down so that your face came within a hair of hitting the table’s edge. You let out a yelp, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Don’t play games with me, sweetheart.” Reaching behind you with his other hand, Kol snapped the leather string and came away with it. You picked your head up as soon as you could, your heart sinking as you watched the beskar Mudhorn charm dangle from his grip. “I know what this is. And I know who gave it to you.” He dropped the pendant and it landed on the table, your eyes glued to the shape of the signet as you fought to hold back tears. “And I know that if you won’t tell me where he is…” You looked up, and the grin that filled the Abyssin’s pause made your stomach turn. “I can use you to make him come to me.”

The goons crowding your small kitchen laughed at that, Karesh turning towards them to join in. But he spun back around as you spoke, none of the feigned naivete remaining in your voice.

“Are you sure you want that?” It was your turn to let out a small chuckle even as you lost the battle and a lone tear slipped past your eyelid. “You must really miss your brother if you’re so eager to join him.” You laughed again, and you could tell the sound of it - along with what you were saying - was getting to Karesh from the way his face fell into a scowl. “He’s going to kill you. You know that?” You leaned to the left so you could see around your captor to make eye contact with his men. “All of you.”

Karesh just clicked his tongue. “You underestimate me. See, I’ve got a plan.” He stepped around to your side of the table to give your cheek a pat, the contact making you flinch. “As long as I’ve got you, I’m in charge. I’ve made a lot of money by figuring out how to control people. The key,” he said, crossing his arms over his belly, “Is in pinpointing their weakness.” He jerked his chin down at the table, at the pendant Din gave you when he asked you to be his, and then looked back at you. “You’re the Mandalorian’s weakness. And that’s why you’re coming with us, poppet.”

With that, he barked orders to his henchmen, and you were hauled out of the cabin and thrown on the back of a speeder.

“Don’t even think about trying to run.” The biggest of Kol’s men, a heavily tattooed Quarren with a scar digging through one side of his face, sneered down at you from beside the speeder. You followed the movement of his hand as he used it to tap his holster again. “Boss just said I gotta get you back to his place alive.” The gnarled tentacles surrounding his mouth fluttered as he blew air through them in a humorless snort. “Didn’t say I couldn’t blast your kneecaps, though. So don’t make me have’ta do that. Understand?”

Running would have been pointless anyway. The town was too far to reach on foot before nightfall, and the lava flats were prime reptavian hunting grounds after dark. Maybe you’d have a chance if you had a weapon. But bound and unarmed? It was a fool’s mission and you knew it.

You gave him a curt nod, upper lip curled in disgust as you turned your head to look back at the cabin. What is he still doing in there? Karesh had yet to come outside, and your stomach turned at the thought of that scum inside your home. But then his squat shape filled the door frame and he strode smugly to where you and his crew were waiting.

“Just had to take care of one last thing.” He climbed onto the back of the second speeder. “Needed to make sure the Mandalorian gets my invitation.” Kol stared directly at you as he continued. “And that he knows what will happen if he declines it.”

At that, he laughed, shouting to his men to get to the ship, and then the speeders revved up and you were in motion. You kept your eyes on the fluttering white sheets until they shrunk from view. Silent, angry tears burned tracks down your cheeks as one thought repeated in your mind.

He’ll come for me.

You’d never been more sure of anything in your life.

He’ll come for me. And they’ll be sorry.

– – –

Mandalore

“Okay, kid. We’re coming up on Mandalore. You remember the landing sequence I taught you back on Garel?”

Din’s focus shifted from the steel gray planet outside the viewport, to the child in his lap. A pair of big, green ears flopped with the nod of Grogu’s head, a confident “patu” accompanying the movement. Removing one clawed hand from the steering device, he pointed at the panel that housed the landing controls.

That’s right. “Go ahead, then,” Din encouraged, a proud smile curving his lips beneath his helmet. “Bring us down.”

Grogu responded with a squeal of excitement - the same way he had every time he’d been asked to demonstrate what he’d learned on their trip - before he began performing his task. The two of them had been out on a series of training missions to prepare Grogu for his trials, Din mentoring him and teaching him the same things his own father taught him in preparation for the verd’goten. He’s doing a lot better than I did on my first training mission, though. Letting out a satisfied trill when he finished with the controls, Grogu returned his tiny hands to the steering wheel and began piloting the N-1 down through the atmosphere.

“Go slow,” Din cautioned him, the advice only partially sinking in, as the kid only had two speeds - fast, and asleep. Or don’t.

Despite the fact that it happened more quickly than was standard for a first time navigator, Grogu managed to set the ship down on the landing platform safely and skillfully.

“Brreee? Patu! Patu!” The grin that greeted Din when he looked down was as wide as he’d ever seen Grogu wear. Proud of yourself, huh? The kid stood in his lap and turned, placing both hands on the sides of the man’s helmet, delighted giggles bubbling out of him to pull a chuckle from Din’s chest. Good. You should be.

“Good job, Grogu.” Reaching past the kid, he flicked the ignition switch to shut it down. “I’m proud of you.” Those seemed to be the exact words that the kid was waiting for, his whole face lighting up with even more excitement when he heard them. “I’m sure the Armorer will be, too. What do you say we go and tell her all about the things you learned?”

Grogu nodded vigorously, sending his ears flapping again. “Doo.” Countering with a question of his own, he cocked his head to the side and used one pointed claw to tap at the beskar rondel that he wore, causing Din to let out another chuckle.

“I don’t know, pal, we have to see what she says. You might not be ready for your next piece of armor yet.” His ears drooped slightly at that, the sight sending a surge of affection through Din’s whole being. He wants to earn his helmet so badly. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Remember what I told you when we were practicing tracking?” Giving the kid a second to think back to their training mission on Lothal, he paused, waiting for Grogu’s ears to twitch as he found the right memory. “Patience is important. You can’t rush things, or they won’t work out.” Lifting one leather-clad hand, he patted his son’s head. “You’ll earn your armor one piece at a time, just like I did. Then, when the time is right, you’ll have the chance to swear the Creed. And when you do, I’ll be there just like my Buir was.”

The thought of having his own helmet ceremony - and taking the Creed - seemed to perk Grogu right up. Spinning back towards the controls, he pressed another button before zipping back around to face his father while pointing backwards at the holo-screen that he activated. When he glanced over the kid’s head to see what was displayed, Din felt yet another surge of warmth. It was an image of you and Grogu, the two of you sitting outside the cabin on Nevarro, the little womp rat in your lap and bright grins on both of your faces.

“That’s right, she’ll be there, too.” Din nodded. “And she’ll be so proud of you, just like I am.” She already is. The fact that you loved and supported Grogu just as much as he did was one of the many things that made Din so sure that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

For a long time he doubted that settling down and building a home and a family were in the cards for him. But it wasn’t just that he had spent so many years on his own that gave him pause. It was also because of what those years had been filled with that made him question whether or not a simpler life was even possible for him. Decades of bounty hunting had garnered him countless enemies within the galaxy’s underworld, and from time to time those enemies surfaced. Subjecting a partner or child to the consequences of his past seemed cruel and irresponsible in his mind. Better that he handle those threats as they come the same way he handled the jobs they emerged from. On his own, with no one else at risk.

All of that changed when the tiny quarry-turned-adoptive son that was sitting in his lap and hanging on his every word came into his life. Din had tried to find the kid a safe place to grow up, to have the sort of childhood that he himself had been denied. He had tried finding others who he felt would be more able to give Grogu a stable, secure home, or who he thought would be better suited to teach the child what he needed to learn. A life on the road, with danger constantly close behind and a man who had closed himself off far more than his armor ever could? That was no life for a kid. That was no environment in which love could thrive.

Which was exactly why, once Grogu had made his choice clear, Din discarded his former life and began work on this new one. He’d sworn off chasing bounties, dropped out of isolation, tried his hardest to file down his sharp edges, all so that he could give the kid the life he deserved and wanted. And in doing so, he’d met you, and despite the things he previously thought would make him unchoosable, he’d been chosen a second time.

“Your past doesn’t scare me, Din,” you’d said, when he confided in you about the things that he worried could come back to haunt him and hurt you. You’d laced your fingers with his then, your gaze focused on his shrouded eyes, and even though he knew you couldn’t see through his visor, he felt as though you were looking straight into his heart. “I’m more afraid of a future without you. I know you’ll always keep me safe. And I know that there’s nothing that you and I can’t get through together.” The smile you gave him cracked through the rest of his dwindling reserve before you added - “Well, the two of us and Grogu, of course.”

He had decided that night that he would do whatever it took to make sure that your fear never came to fruition - and that meant taking you as his riduur. You weren’t Mandalorian, and you had no plans to change that. You weren’t a warrior, you didn’t wear armor, and you had never even held a blaster before he taught you how to use one. But none of that mattered to Din. He loved you for what and who you were. You were brave, and strong, and you made him feel like he deserved the life he was carving out for himself. You were smart, and kind, and you brought warmth to parts of him that he’d thought had frozen over ages ago. And if he could put your fears to rest by joining his life with yours, then he would. Without hesitation.

Because it’s what I want, too.

When you said yes, when he saw you wearing the Mudhorn pendant - his sigil, and soon to be yours - for the first time? Between that moment and the one when Grogu had formally become his child, Din had never felt so far from his past as he had then. Every step the three of you had taken since had only put more distance between his former life and the one you were building together.

The plan was for the two of you to have a small ceremony on Mandalore once Grogu finished the first year of his training - which was quickly coming to an end - and it was nearly impossible to tell which of the three of you was looking forward to that milestone the most. I think it might be me, though. As he helped Grogu down from the cockpit and waved to the armored teens who had been tasked with refueling all incoming ships, he found his mind wandering to the things that would change with the exchanging of vows.

That your two souls would be joined as one was, of course, the most important aspect, and the one that mattered most to him. But it also meant that he would finally be able to reveal his face to you. It meant that for the first time, you would get to see him - the small shifts of depth and color in his eyes when he smiled or laughed or said your name, the creases that formed between his brows when he was concerned, the twitch of his upper lip when you touched him. It meant removing the only remaining barrier between you.

It meant being able to give more of himself to you than he’d ever given to anyone. I’ve never wanted that before. But with her I… With you, he wanted everything.

He hadn’t noticed that he’d been grinning until the call of his name snapped his focus back to the present. “I see that you and your apprentice have returned from your journey.” Turning in the direction of the voice, he saw the Armorer striding towards him and Grogu.

“We have,” he responded with a nod. Beside him, Grogu’s excitement was almost palpable, the kid practically bouncing from foot to foot.

“And how did everything go? Did the apprentice complete all of his tasks?” She asked Din but tilted her head down to look at Grogu.

“He did.” Din glanced down just in time to see a wide, toothy grin split the kid’s face, then met the Armorer’s gaze again. “I think he’s ready for the next level of training.”

“Hmm!” Grogu hummed in enthusiastic agreement.

“Is that so?” The Armorer placed her hands on her hips, cocking her head to the side. “In that case, Grogu, we have work to do. There is still much for you to learn before your next set of missions. Are you ready to begin?” Though he knew that Grogu was bursting with excitement, Din watched as the child set his features into a mask of discipline, giving the Armorer a serious nod. “Well then, let us get started.”

Letting Din know that she would be taking over Grogu’s training for the next few days, the Armorer permitted the child a moment to say goodbye to his father before she took him to join the other Mandalorian apprentices who were ready to advance.

Stooping down, Din brought himself to his son’s level. “Alright, pal, you know what to do. Listen to what you’re told, and don’t start any trouble, got it?” He patted the space between Grogu’s ears, the small head moving in a nod beneath his leather clad palm. “I’m going to go back home to Nevarro for a few days, but when I come back guess who’ll be coming with me?”

With a small gasp, Grogu pointed at the purple scarf tucked around the collar of Din’s flight suit - the one you had given him as a Life Day gift the year before.

“That’s right,” he nodded, letting out a small laugh. “And she’s going to want to hear all about the things you’re learning, so make sure you pay good attention so you remember everything and you can show us with your pictures.”

“Patu.” Din had to stop himself from letting out another chuckle at the serious tone in Grogu’s little voice. Good, I’m glad he’s dedicated to this. It’s important that he learns.

But as soon as that thought cleared his head, Din was hit with a blur of motion as Grogu launched himself into a hug, the man wrapping his arms around him and letting the held back chuckle go free. “Alright, buddy. Be good. I’ll see you soon.”

With that, Grogu bounded off with the Armorer, and Din was left to himself. He thought briefly about stopping into his quarters on Mandalore to use the refresher and make some caf before heading straight back to Nevarro. But before he could decide if that was what he wanted to do or not, his attention was drawn by a pair of quickly approaching footsteps and the call of his name from the direction of the landing platform. He turned as Leera Shale, one of the teenaged trainees from the landing platform, shouted his name again. What’s she in such a hurry for?

“Din Djarin!” The kid ran, huffing and panting under the weight of her armor as she reached him. “My brother and I,” she began, pausing to gulp in a breath and let it back out. “We were refueling your ship and recalibrating the guns, and a holo transmission came through. It’s… It’s urgent.”

Though she hadn’t said what the message entailed, a sudden weight dropped into Din’s stomach. With the frantic way she’d run to get him, he doubted that the news she had was good. “What is it? Who is it from?”

The girl shook her head, the green and orange helmet she wore moving side to side. “We don’t know. Sahmer said the man was an Abyssin? But that’s… it doesn’t-” She sputtered. “It doesn’t matter. You need to come see it. He’s… I think someone might be in trouble.”

Your face flashed in his mind then, and though he couldn’t explain how, he knew that you were in danger. Racing back to his ship with the young Mandalorian at his heels, he tried not to think about the fact that if you were in danger, it was his fault. If she’s been hurt I’ll-

The thought trailed off as he reached the platform, wasting no time in climbing into his ship so that he could play the transmission and hear it for himself.

“I didn’t want it to come to this, Mando, but you’re a tough one to pin down.”

A chill ran down Din’s spine as he saw the speaker - an Abyssin, as Sahmer had said - seated at the table in the kitchen of the home he shared with you, though you were not in view. Where is she? What-

“We’ve never met, you and I. But you knew my brother. Gor Karesh.” The speaker clicked his tongue and huffed a humorless laugh. “Did you really think there would not be consequences for what you did to him?” At that, he lifted one hand, and from it dangled a length of leather cord, Din’s hands clenching into tight fists as he made out the pendant he’d given you. “It would be a shame to make your woman pay for those consequences, don’t you think?” He laughed again, the sound just as cold and flat. “Come to the battle arena in the warehouse district. RTK111. You know the place. Oh, and come alone. I’ll know if you don’t.” He paused then, winding the cord around your pendant and tucking it into his shirt pocket before looking straight at the holo-device as he finished his threat. “Come alone, or she dies.”

The transmission ended then, Din left staring at the controls of his ship with Sahmer and Leera standing silently beside the open cockpit. Chest heaving with rage, he started immediately setting course for the location your captor had given him. “Were you able to finish refueling before the holo came through?” He asked the question in a steady, even tone, not wanting to scare the kids despite the way his blood was boiling.

“Y-yeah.” Sahmer answered nervously. “Tank’s full and the guns are ready.”

“Good. Thank you.” He punched in the coordinates and turned to Leera. “I need you to go and find Bo-Katan Kryze. Tell her where I’m going, but that she can’t follow. Tell her my riduur is in danger and I have to get her back, and tell her-” A tight knot formed in his throat as he prepared for the worst case scenario, but he forced it down. “Tell her to look after Grogu if I don’t come back. Can you do that for me?”

Leera looked to her brother, the two of them sharing a solemn nod before the girl turned back to face Din. “This is the Way.”

Though every beat of his heart drove more fear and anger into his bloodstream, the familiar words and the meaning behind them gave him a small amount of comfort. “This is the Way.”

He only allowed himself to feel that comfort for a second though, the entirety of his focus on getting to you before it was too late. As the ship lifted from the ground, he made you a silent promise.

I’m coming for you.

He didn’t know what was waiting for him once he arrived at the arena. Based on the last interaction he had there, he could guess that it wouldn’t be pleasant. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if Karesh put a hundred men in his way, or if he had to fight a rancor. Nothing would stop him from bringing you home.

I’m coming for you, cyare. I promise. – – –

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to be added to or removed from my taglists, please feel free to let me know! You can use the form on my masterlist or just shoot me a message!

For now, I'm going to use the taglist that I currently have. Apologies if you get a tag and don't want a tag - it's been a million years.

tags:

@something-tofightfor @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @valkblue

@fific7 @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @grogusmum @dihra-vesa

@marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75

@nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth

@thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80

@hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito

@jedi-in-crocs @hannahkatharine @anoverwhelmingdin @chiyo13 @myloveistoolittle

@noisynightmarepoetry @Vickie5446 @jessthebaker @pedrostories

#the glandalorian 2024 #november writing challenge #skira #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian fic #clan mudhorn #din and grogu #angry din is fun to write #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fic

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loonyloopylupin96 · 8 hours ago

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Prompt: Rat | @moonwater-microfic | Words: 562

"You can't tell anyone, Remus," he implored.

Remus nodded, growing concerned. He could count on two hands the number Regulus had called him by his first name in the time they'd known each other, and each time it was always something quite severe.

"Are you okay-"

"There's a rat in our common room."

Remus stared. Whatever he was expecting… it wasn't this. Surely by fourth year Regulus knew people brought pets with them.

His bewilderment must have shown in his expression.

"It's none of ours, it just comes in and snacks on crumbs, or lurks in corners. It's disgusting. I swear it came up on the train or something. It makes me want to-" He mimed something resembling vomiting.

Remus shrugged lightly. "Maybe it's Peter."

Regulus' eyes widened, before his face broke into a grin and he was engulfed in unusually raucous laughter. It was moments like these that Remus could see him and Sirius for the brothers they were; their shared laugh. Not that he'd tell them that.

"I can't believe you," Regulus said, composing himself again. "Why would you say something like that? I thought you were friends."

"We are," Remus agreed. "But really, if you're worried about it why not… feed it to a snake, or something?" He paused at the expression on Regulus' face. "You don't like rats, do you?"

"They remind me of the basement at home. I only went down once but the door-" he shuddered, visibly paling. "No, not a fan. Anyway, where am I supposed to get a snake from?"

Remus' brows rose. "You mean you really don't have a pet snake in your common room?"

Regulus blinked. "Why would we? I mean, do you have a lion?"

"Of course not, but then my house isn't called Roarin either. I just thought-"

"You're an idiot sometimes." He'd file that away under his very short Slytherin love language list.

Remus' lips quirked. "Get a trap, and we'll take it out into the forest. Or give it to Hagrid."

Regulus began to look uncomfortable again. But then, resigned, he nodded. "Fine. I suppose I'd better go. Got an amateur extermination business to plan, apparently."

"Amateur?"

"I'll call myself a pro when we've got rid of this one."

"Well… try not to kill it." He turned to walk away.

"Why not?"

"Just… don't. For me."

His heart skilled at the softness in Regulus' eyes as he turned to look back at him. "Why would I do anything for you, Lupin?" Ah, back to Lupin again.

Remus grinned, "Because I'm an idiot, remember?"

Two hours later, Remus was back in his own common room again still reeling in the memory of the way Regulus' face had collapsed into a free, soft laugh. It was beautiful, there was no other word for it.

He'd barely put a foot on the step up to his dormitory before he heard the voices coming from above.

"-BROTHER TRIED TO KILL ME, SIRIUS! Fucking hell James, I'm not doing that again. Next time, one of you sneak in."

"I'm pretty sure they'd notice a giant stag- Hey, Remus. You're back. Pete nearly got snuffed-"

"I told you to wait 'til he wasn't there. Regulus always hated rats."

"Moony, next time you see your boyfriend-"

Remus sighed. Maybe he should have said please try not to kill it.

He really was an idiot sometimes.

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velvette-creations · 1 day ago

Text

Bittersweet Thereafter

Wicked: Elphaba Thropp x Glinda Upland (Gelphie my beloved)

Rating: Teen

WC: 1k

Prompt: “For whatever it's worth, I still hope that you're good” -Savage by Watsky for @sweetspicybingo (Lyrical Bingo Collection)

Warnings: A brief mention of spicy times, angst, lyrics from the musical sprinkled throughout, MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE MUSICAL, WLW

Summary: Glinda and Elphaba reflect upon their memories of the past

The flames were hot against Glinda’s skin as she watched the effigy burn, the one she had set fire to. Tears stung her eyes, and it took all her strength to suppress them. She swallowed the hard lump forming in her throat as she watched the fire consume the crude symbol of her once dear friend. No, she was more than that, wasn’t she? I loved her.

Goodness knows the Wicked die alone.

Glittery tears streamed down Glinda’s cheeks as she heaved for air. I failed you, Elphie. It was a failure that would forever weigh heavy on her heart, a blackness that would eat away inside of her. Part of her was ready to throw herself into the fire, to welcome death and be able to see Elphaba’s face again. She held her hand to the fire, letting it crackle and heat her skin as memories from her past flooded back. A crinkled moment lost in time.

A time when she was still Galinda Upland.

Elphaba has the most beautiful smile. It lightst up her whole face, her dark eyes shining and crinkling as happiness took her over—her green fingertip skim across Galinda’s cheek, then over her roommate’s petal pink lips. The excitement of arriving in the Emerald City floods their veins and spills into their exteriors.

“Kiss me, Elphie,” Galinda crooned in her lilting voice.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Elphaba smiles before pressing her lips to Galinda’s.

The kiss was sweet at first, like sugar-dusted gumdrops that sent euphoria swimming through your body. Galinda’s saccharine giggles spill against Elphaba’s warm lips, vibrating down the green girl’s throat as she swallows the bubbly girl down. It grew into something more passionate, heated with a sharp tang, reminding Elphaba of the wine they shared at the Ozdust ballroom. Their tongues tangled together as Elphaba moves on top of Galinda, the seat creaking beneath them.

“I want more,” Galinda moans, and Elphaba has to choke back a laugh. Of course, she did. Galinda was never easily satisfied.

“You must be quiet then and discrete,” Elphaba warns because those two attributes that did not come easily to the blonde woman.

“I will do my best!” Galinda promises, gripping Elphie’s upper arm.

Elphaba ran her thumb over the crinkles petals of the pink rose. She kept it pressed safely between the pages of her Grimmerie in remembrance of the dance that brought her and Glinda together as friends. She used to keep it under the brim of her hat; the one Glinda had convinced her was chic. The humiliation still stings when she recalls the dance and Glinda’s gentle touch as she wiped away the salty tears that spilled from Elphaba’s eyes, a soothing balm that seemed to heal the hurt inside her.

The rose has faded over time, no longer vibrant and plush but crinkled and greying around the edges. A reflection of their friendship. Oh, but it was more than that, was it not?

Galinda’s mouth had been as sweet and soft as that rose petal.

Galinda’s moans spill into Elphaba’s mouth as her fingers curve inside the blonde.

“Yes, Elphie, yes!” she squeals, her voice muffled as Elphie hit just the right spot inside her.

Her warmth tightens around Elphaba’s fingers, and wetness spills across the witch’s green fingers and soaked her. Galinda’s face flushes red and hot—an appealing color on her. Elphaba’s dark eyes flits over to the man across from them, blissfully asleep and unaware, and the air held a certain thrill from getting away with such a lewd act in public.

Galinda tucks her petite frame against Elphaba’s side, curling against her as her heart wrestled with feelings she had long denied herself. The obsession with Fiyero and the constant flirting all tools used to bury the truth. The words brimmed on the tip of her tongue, but she couldn’t say them. Not yet.

Don’t wish, don’t start. Wishing only wounds the heart.

The wickedest witch there ever was. The enemy of all of us here in Oz is dead!

“Oh, Elphie,” Glinda sobbed, her mourning drowned out by the cheering of the crowd.

The smoke irritated her nose, and she was thankful to use this as an excuse for her tears. None of them would understand. She was to blame. She created this persona, betraying her best friend, the woman she loved. And for what? For pretend power. To be the one admired and adulated when Elphie was the one with the actual gift, with true magic.

“Please forgive me,” she whimpered, knowing she doesn’t deserve it.

Elphie is warm, and Galinda loves how their bodies fit together. She doesn’t ever want to return to Shiz or Frottica or marry Fiyero. She wants to stay in the Emerald City forever with Elphie.

“I don’t ever want to leave,” Galinda whispers, with wide eyes as she grips Elphie’s hand as they take in the sprawling Emerald City.

“Me either,” Elphaba laughs, squeezing Galinda’s hand as they begin their exploration.

Elphaba tore the petals one by one, letting the wind carry them away. The past was behind her; it was no use going back or imagining what might have been because it didn’t matter. She heard Fiyero rustle behind her as the wind picked up the woods. He was kind enough; he was good enough. He was that boy, but he could never be that girl. She watched the faded rose petals become swallowed up by the graying sky as silent tears rolled down her cheeks.

Because I knew you…I have been changed for good.

“Hold out, my sweet, for whatever it’s worth, I still hope that you’re good,” Elphaba whispers as the dark sky swallowed up the last faded memory.

“Come, we need to move on,” Fiyero whispered, offering her his burlap hand.

It was rough against her skin, and she pretended it was Glinda’s warm palm instead. But it’s better this way. No matter how hard she tries to deny it, she will always carry G(a)linda in her heart.

Is it true you were her friend?

We were more than friends.

Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.

A cost Glinda would gladly pay over and over again. When she returned to the palace, she squeezed Elphie’s hat, the only remaining piece of her (or so she has been led to believe), against her chest and openly wept. The painful realization that she was all alone now made her feel sick, and she collapsed to the floor, squeezing Elphie’s hat tightly.

I hope you’re happy, my friend.

#fics: wicked #sweetspicylyrics #elphaba thropp #wicked elphaba #glinda x elphaba #glinda upland #glinda wicked #gelphie #wicked fanfiction #elphaba fanfic #glinda fanfic #wicked imagine #elphaba imagine #glinda imagine #wicked glinda #elphaba wicked

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rekino2114 · 2 days ago

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I J K L fluff alphabet with min from drdt?

I,J,K and L fluff alphabet prompts for min jeung

A/n:a couple of anons asked me and so I thought I should answer:min looked really good in the collab mv that just might be cause I may have a thing for bandages and scars

Also yes 2 drdt posts in one day, it's because I've been feeling like writing a lot in these past few days so sorry if that's annoying I guess

📚I=I love you (how fast did they say it? Do they say it often?)

Min will need a bit of time to get used to just having a partner and being in a relationship so she won't say it early, but once she does get used to it she'll actually say it a lot. Verbal affirmation is probably her main way to show affection. She often reminds you of her love of you by saying it, but she especially loves writing it in letters or texts

📚J=jealousy (how jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

Min is very rational, and as a consequence of that, she doesn't really get jealous. She knows you won't leave her and doesn't really care if people flirt with you since she knows you'll reject them because you love her. But she can't fully control her emotions on the rare occasions she gets particularly jealous she'll stand near you and just not say anything as you reject the girl (she's actually glaring at her but you can't tell because her hair is covering her eyes)

📚K=kisses(how do they kiss you? Where do they like to kiss you?)

She doesn't really like kissing you that much. She definitely doesn't complain when you kiss her (even though she blushes a lot) but she doesn't have enough courage to actually start the kiss or continue it for more than a few seconds. As you continue getting closer she'll try becoming bolder and initiating kisses even if they're usually pretty short and sweet. She doesn't really have a favorite place to kiss you but if she had to choose then your cheeks

📚L=love confession(how did they confess to you?)

Min had everything prepared. She had written down her confession and memorized it like she does for tests she knew everything she had to say, but somehow, just looking at you smiling at her made her forget everything. this never happened to her, even with the strictest teachers, she always remembered everything she studied and repeated it perfectly during oral tests, but this was different. She panicked, blushed a lot, and mumbled "i-i I like you......a lot" and after a bit of clarification you just giggled kissed her on the cheek and told her you felt the same. She then freezed for a second before smiling and blushing again

#danganronpa despair time x reader #danganronpa despair time #x reader #drdt x reader #drdt #despair time x reader #despair time #min jeung x reader #min jeung #gn reader #fluff alphabet #fluff prompts #fluff

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asordinaryppl · 2 days ago

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A3! Backstage Story Translation - Chikage Utsuki SSR: BE.MINE ver.CHIKAGE - Part 2

requested by taruchikas, who also provided the raws for the story! thank you!

Chikage: I’m home—

Citron: How about this route?

Itaru: We’d probably avoid the traffic jams in the city like this.

Sakuya: What should we do about lunch?

Tsuzuru: How about…

Chikage: (I’ve got a bad feeling about this…)

Chikage: You look like you’re having fun.

Tsuzuru: Oh, Chikage-san. Welcome back.

Chikage: What are you all hunched over there for?

Sakuya: We’re making plans for a drive.

Citron: You will be clearing your schedule too, Chikage.

Chikage: I’m being forced into this, I see.

Itaru: Can’t do without you.

Tsuzuru: If anything, you’ll be the star of the show.

Chikage: Meaning?

Itaru: We heard from the Director that your situation prompt for the magazine is a drive date.

Chikage: Figured that’s what’s going on…

Chikage: I drive pretty often anyway, I don’t think there’s a need for me to go out of my way to prepare.

Citron: Non, non! Simply driving and driving with someone else on board are completely different!

Tsuzuru: Citron-san’s saying something that makes sense for once.

Masumi: … This is weird.

Sakuya: It was cool!

Itaru: So, if you would.

Chikage: … I got it. It's important to make some time for family, after all.

Izumi: There are drinks and snacks in here.

Chikage: Thanks.

Izumi: I don’t think I have any reason to worry, but please drive safely.

Chikage: Of course. Well then…

Citron: I will be in the passenger seat today.

Chikage: ? Sure…

Citron: Off we go!

Chikage: Let me know if you want to stop by a convenience store or something. For music—

Citron: Ah~ I’m so glad the weather is nice today, Chi-kun ♪

Chikage: Chi…

Tsuzuru: Chi-kun!?

Itaru: “Chi-kun” is crazy. I think I’m gonna die.

Citron: The weather is fire and I’m sooo geeked~★ Chi-kunnn, I’ll be counting on you to drive sa-fe-ly ♪

Sakuya: Are you playing the girlfriend…?

Itaru: And a gyaru. I think.

Tsuzuru: The slang’s a little outdated though…

Masumi: … The light is gone from Chikage’s eyes.

Chikage: …

Tsuzuru: B-But it’ll be good practice for the magazine…?

Itaru: And it’ll help with Citron’s future female roles.

Chikage: … *sigh* Alright.

Chikage: But, I don’t want to hear any complaints if my driving gets weird.

Itaru: Remind me why we're risking our life for this…

Citron: Playing the girlfriend is fun! You should all try it too.

Tsuzuru: Uhhh…

Sakuya: It’d be good to try out all kinds of situations!

Itaru: We’ll all take turns playing the girlfriend whenever we stop in a service area or convenience store, then.

Chikage: That’d be helpful in many ways.

Sakuya: We’ll do our best!

Chikage: … I think I’m going to get something to keep me awake, just in case. Can we stop by that store?

Citron: My shift ended fast!

Sakuya: Ummm…

Sakuya: Chi—…

Chikage: You can just call me the way you usually do, Sakuya.

Citron: Did you hate it that much?

Itaru: I’ll be remembering it and rolling on the floor, at least.

Masumi: I’m gonna be sick.

Tsuzuru: …

Chikage: …

Citron: He can’t practice if you don’t speak, Tsuzuru!

Itaru: ^ This. You need to say something.

Tsuzuru: U-Uhhh…

Tsuzuru: A-Aren’t you tired~?

Chikage: You don’t need to force yourself so much. Could you hand me my coffee?

Tsuzuru: ‘Kay!

Tsuzuru: Wait, I’m supposed to be helping you…!

Masumi: …

Chikage: …

Citron: There’s too much silence again!

Itaru: Masumi, just think of this as rehearsal with Director-san.

Masumi: With the Director…

Masumi: …

Masumi: … *sigh* I can’t. You’re too cute.

Chikage: … Just what thoughts are going through your head?

Itaru: Okay, lemme show you all how it’s done.

Chikage: No need to get so into this.

Itaru: Utsuki-san, should I play some music? Or are you more of a radio person?

Chikage: I suppose I prefer the radio. We can also get information about traffic jams like this.

Itaru: Me too~

Itaru: *Yawn*…

Citron: Oh, how flirty.

Itaru: No, that was for real…

Chikage: Are you sleepy? You can go ahead and sleep. I’ll wake you up when we get there.

Itaru: I’m being put to bed.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

#a3!#translation #a3! translation #chikage utsuki #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #nothing could have prepared me for chikage and his 5 girlfriends

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llondonfog · 1 year ago

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This is such a weird, RANDOM, and long ask (more like a rant tbh), but I wanted to say something because I can't get it out of my head.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER.

Before you boo me, I COULDN'T HELP IT. I just, can't get it out of my brain.

Like, Lilia just wakes up one day, sees this mini horror in Silver's bedroom, and freaks out before realizing that IS Silver.

Everything he knew about Silver's parents is a lie.

Then, Silver transforms back, but part way, so he has these cute little wings with soft, white feathers, and Lilia just MELTS.

He's freaked out, amazed, confused, but he wants to comfort Silver, who is both confused and possibly in pain from the transformation. Growing wings seems painful.

Like, he had 6 wings (3 sets of 2) in the horror-fest form that is a Biblically Accurate Angel (I both encourage and warn you against searching that up lol), and now he has 2-4 wings (possibly with the feathers attached to his head as Seraphim Angels have. I think). Compared to his default human body, that's a big difference, right?

Anyway, I wanted to share this with someone. You don't have to do anything with this, or even respond, but THE IMAGE. I love Silver and he's already angelic, so might as well add a Horrifying version of that, AND pretty wings in the more "normal" version. I just can't write or draw my vision LMAO so I have to cope with sharing it instead.

BIBLICALLY ACCURATE ANGEL SILVER IM IN LOVE????

BABY SILVER WITH BABY ANGEL WINGS!!! oh they are so soft and fluffy, like dreams and clouds and silk all at once!! the imagery of him draping them over lilia while they nap or simply shielding him from the sun with one as he gets older....my heart!!!

And then considering the imagery of extremely pissed off biblically accurate silver protecting his loved ones against any who would seek to bring them harm!!! Absolutely terrifying to behold!! I don't know why I'm partial to the specific one of the large eye surrounded by countless wings but that's what I think of!! All those wings to sweep up and protect his loved ones, and more to deal out powerful blows of damage, with one dizzying aurora-hued eye that can seem like the most gentle gaze that allows you to simply bask in unconditional acceptance or the most horrific choking sense of inevitable judgement for what you've done against the word of good.

FANTASTIC CONCEPT I WISH I COULD DRAW IT

on the other hand, the thought of lilia being in such awe and wonder of his child, this pure and innocent being who has been granted to him, who loves him unconditionally and uses his powers to make lilia's life kinder and easier as silver tries to take away the aches and pains and nightmares... I could see it verging into a cult of two territory; lilia being very protective and possessive of his son, the thought of throwing himself into service to protect the boy?angel?savior? at any and all costs, to be his knight in shining armor to keep him safe and unsullied from the world. silver becoming like this odd forest deity creature who pours his magic so willingly into the woods and gives freely to those that need his kindness, and his father is only too happy to kneel to him, renewed in his purpose to serve his benevolent, angelic son...

#lettie's asks #twst silver #twst lilia #twisted wonderland silver #lilia vanrouge #diasomnia #ahhhhh these helped me through my cramps ❤️❤️#I have so many thoughts on various silver is an angel aus ok #lilia deserves a little sweet guardian angel<3 #if i do prompts again remind me of this...

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weirdglassthing · 2 months ago

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LOA Shiptober Day 4: How They Met

October content month was ambitious..

This one took me. Shockingly long. Whoops! I’ll probably end up jumping around the prompt list and it might extend into November 😋

I’ll try to do day 31 on the actual date of Halloween though 🫡

#the good or bad thing depending on who you ask about my ship art is that there are many more ranting tags #once again bringing my “he can’t blush but what if he did’’ agenda #Ngl the first panel reminds me of a children’s book it’s kind of fire #I feel like frost doesn’t like being touched by most people #but then he meets gricko professional animal friend and he’s so confused bc wtf why doesn’t he hate this #so that’s the drawing #sighs fondly confused grimmorning #except frost is the only one that’s confused #Im not joking when I say this one took me a long time I started it the day before the prompt and finished it like a week later #unintentional but frost is doing the Jim halpert thing #he wasn’t supposed to be but it turned out that way #frost don’t Jim the fourth wall.. community reference yeah..#I keep forgetting gricko tail agenda #also I love all the requests I’ve been getting once shiptober is over those will be popping up #anyways that’s enough out of me #but seriously some of those requests are so good they’re actually inspiring me to finish these pieces #legends of avantris #once upon a witchlight #morning frost #gricko grimgrin #grimmorning #gricko x frost #OH last thing possible stardust rhapsody art on the way I have to share my dandy art with the world

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pastafossa · 2 months ago

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"Poor thing." (Matt Murdock x F!Reader, Fic) 🔥

So as promised, I'm taking part in the October Tuna-Tober prompt challenge! For Day One I had three prompts to choose from, and I wound up going for the kink prompt of somnophilia cause, well, I'd hinted at it in TRT as being something Matt liked, but never actually sat down and wrote anything out for it. You can see the rest of the prompts I've chosen here if you'd like to know what's coming this month from me, but for now, please enjoy Day One! This is not specifically written as any fem!Reader in particular, although any readers of TRT can choose to see this as TRT's reader!

As a reminder, if you'd like notifications when I post something, you can follow my sideblog @pastaxandria and set it for notifications!

Ship: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Chapter Summary:

You’d had a long week. He remembered you telling him that the night before. You wouldn’t mind if he woke you up—you never did—but odds were good you needed your rest far more than you needed him dragging you up out of the haze of sleep for a sloppy, indulgent midnight fuck. But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he?

Wordcount: 3.3k words

Warnings for this chapter, let's do this: consensual somnophilia (they talked about this being fine, don't worry), oral f-receiving, grinding, PiV sex, some dirty talk. 18 and up only please!

Oh and we're black suiting this cause fuck yeah.

Your arousal hit him the second he opened the rooftop door.

The scent of it stopped him dead in his tracks, threads of heat winding through him as he drew in a long, slow inhale, savoring it. Another inhale, and he let out a low rumble of pleasure, his mouth already watering, cock stirring.

Well, that was one way to be welcomed home.

Not that he was complaining. His night had gone well enough—the fights visceral and satisfying, with multiple people he’d ensured would make it home safely. But your skin against his, fucking his way lazily inside you while you moaned loudly into his ear, dragging your nails down his back, would only make a good night better. However, as he eagerly stepped through the door and closed it behind him, it quickly became clear that your body’s call to him wasn’t exactly intentional.

He directed his senses down the stairs and into the bedroom, hunting through sensory information, through the fire of the world until he found you in bed. You were laying on your side and tucked under the blankets, one of your arms thrown over his pillow to hold it up against your chest. And despite the tempting scent of you in the air, you weren’t moving. Not really, anyway. At most, every now and then your fingers would twitch or curl, your heartbeat uneven and a little restless.

Asleep.

You were dreaming, then.

Maybe even dreaming of him.

He slowly dragged his tongue over his lips, considering his options.

But then… he didn’t have to wake you up, did he?

Just like that, he settled on a course of action.

He crept silently down the stairs, stripping out of his gloves and black mask as he went, tossing them aside without care for where they fell. The bottom step was carefully avoided, thanks to its tendency to creak and alert you to his presence. He stopped only long enough to kneel and quietly unlace his boots, tugging them and his socks off so that he could slip barefoot into the bedroom, weaving through the shadows, navigating around any floorboards that might give him away. He did it all without a sound, his senses so focused now he could hear the faint whisper of the dust motes in the air stirred by his passage, hear the tiniest shift of your skin against the sheets as you breathed, hear the blood flowing hot beneath your skin where you’d grown flushed and aroused.

The scent of your arousal was even stronger here in the bedroom, more than enough to thicken the heat inside him, an instinctive little purr halted in his throat before it could stir the air with sound. His body knew just as well as he did what that scent meant, what always followed, and his nostrils flared as he got closer to you, taking in how your pheromones had mixed with his in bed. It stirred some possessive, lazy satisfaction in him to take in the way you’d curled up with his pillow, chasing his scent, and you were even wearing—

Oh.

You were wearing his shirt.

It was like you were begging for this, for him, for what he had planned.

He crept up onto the bed on his hands and knees, each shift of the mattress followed by a pause, a confirmation from your heartbeat and breathing that you were still asleep. He had to be careful if he didn’t want to wake you. It wasn’t that you’d be angry, of course—you’d both agreed that this sort of thing was alright, though he’d had a far easier time making use of that agreement than you had thanks to his senses. No, this was about ensuring you still had a chance to rest.

Though, if he were honest, the challenge of this was a thrill all its own. It was a delicate balancing act to give you the sensations you needed, allow himself access to your body, all without waking you. It was as if he were hunting you, gradually gaining ground from the shadows until at last he could take hold of his prize. Fortunately, this prize was one that would leave you both satisfied.

The moment he found himself over your hips, he shifted to catch the blankets and slowly, ever so slowly began to edge them down.

Gentle.

Inch by inch, he bared your body to the air. You didn’t so much as stir, well and truly asleep, and presumably still caught up in your dream. Even so, he held his breath, listening closely to the beating of your heart and your shallow breathing. But he’d been careful enough, and besides, you were used to him climbing into bed in the middle of the night, shifting the blankets around as he crawled under them to join you.

The scent of you that rose up as the blanket slid down was so much richer now that it wasn’t stifled and trapped by thick fabric. It made him shiver, his cock already so hard he could feel a damp spot growing on the silk of his boxers. He needed more of that scent, and to taste it, too, but the angle was all wrong with you on your side. So he gently traced one fingertip up the side of your thigh, applying the barest hint of pressure. You were normally fairly responsive to him even in sleep.

“Roll over for me, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his lips, light as a feather, against your hip. “You smell so good. I need a taste.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his touch or his voice that made it past whatever dream you were lost in, but either way, some part of you heard him. You breathed out a soft sigh, twitching a little until he helped you roll slowly onto your back beneath him. You made a soft sound that might have been his name, and he couldn’t resist letting out a reassuring little croon as he pressed your slack thighs outwards, gradually parting your legs. There wasn’t so much as a hint of resistance as your legs fell open, baring the wet heat of your pussy to him.

God, your scent.

He quickly backed up a few inches before dropping to his hands and his knees, lowering his head just over your hips to quietly inhale the scent of your cunt. The rich, musky tang of your arousal—all pheromones and slick warmth—left him half mad, his eyes rolling back. His hips instinctively snapped forward against nothing but air, his body curving as if he were already fucking his way into you.

It only got worse, got better when he let his head fall further, hungry for just a taste. He slipped his tongue out until he could use the tip for the barest little lick at the line of your slit where your arousal had gathered, your body twitching as he did. Even that small taste hit him like a drug, and he swallowed down a ragged moan, his chest hitching as he kept the sound from reaching the air. He’d told himself he’d just have a taste, just one, but one quickly became two became three, hungry, quickening laps at your slit until he finally whined softly in want and dropped the rest of his body down, burying his face desperately against your cunt.

Your hips twitched, rocking against him just slightly, and you let out the softest little whimper as he grunted and slurped quietly at your slit, wetness smearing across his chin and mouth. Only once he’d thoroughly tasted what you’d made for him did he slide up to your clit, tongue extended to lap at it with little kitten licks, ones designed to encourage your body to give him more of your slick wetness, your body jerking with every pass. He tried to remind himself to be gentle, to take things soft and slow so you didn’t wake, but that was so hard when you whimpered again, whimpered as he pursed his lips to suck lightly at your clit, drawing it into his mouth to work with his tongue. Your fingers curled and released against the sheets, and you tasted so good that he found himself fucking against the mattress, humping mindlessly at the folds in the blankets like an animal.

“M… Matt.”

His eyes fluttered lazily open, his gaze drifting up around the sensory shape of you. You were all flowing air currents and sounds and scents, twisting tongues of flame fed by the growing heat of both your bodies. Your heartbeat was still too slow to signal you’d woken up, but your breathing had picked up, your eyes fluttering more rapidly behind your eyelids.

If you hadn’t been dreaming of him before, you were now. And if you were still dreaming, he was safe.

He rumbled a low noise of satisfaction, using his fingers to part your folds before dipping down to your entrance. Once there, he began to lick firmly at you, pressing deeper and deeper until at last your body opened to him and he slipped inside. You let out a sleep little mewl, one of your legs shifting restlessly in your sleep, your head rolling on your pillow as he moaned quietly, curling his tongue inside you to drag against the silken heat of your clenching walls, his nose grinding gently against your clit.

Did you know, somewhere deep down, what he was doing? That he’d spread you open like this and worked his tongue inside you? Or did all your dream self know was that you suddenly felt so, so good?

The very idea that you might not know, that you’d left yourself so vulnerable to him, had him dangerously close to coming, his motions growing just a hint more frantic. Wetness smeared across his face as he kissed sloppily at your slit, kissed at it like he might your mouth, snaking his tongue out to slide inside you with every pass of his lips.

He listened carefully to the quickening pace of your heart, your breathing, taking in the faint sheen of sweat forming on your skin. Every time your heartrate rose too high, he’d slow just a little, or shift his mouth over to your folds or the inside of your thighs. It was there he left you a mark or two, sucking gently at thin, delicate skin. Even if he managed to do this without waking you, you’d know tomorrow what he’d done when you saw the little love bites and bruises between your thighs. The very idea made him purr warmly against you, and he quickly worked his hand down beneath himself until he could undo his pants, pushing the fabric down until he could pull his hard cock free. He took a moment to grind slowly, deliciously against the sheets, presing his mouth to the skin of your thigh to muffle his hitched moan. And that reminded him of what he’d planned on from the start, before he’d become distracted by the taste of you.

He was close, and he needed you. Fortunately, based on the way your body had begun to tighten in increasing waves, you were close, too.

He let his head roll to the side to rest against your thigh as he panted, still grinding himself against the sheets. “Do you want my cock, sweetheart?” he whispered, his lips curling up into a delicious little smirk when your body clenched at the sound of his voice. “I think you do. Even when you’re asleep, you need me inside you, don’t you?”

There was no verbal response, but the growing heat of your skin was enough for him. He rocked himself up as gently as he could, stopping just long enough to strip the rest of his clothes off before climbing slowly up your body. As he went, he caught the hem of your shirt, slowly dragging it up your body with him. He couldn’t take it off you—even he wouldn’t be able to mange something like that—but he had no desire to. The idea of fucking you while you were sleep, while you were wearing his shirt, was a fantasy he’d used more than once while taking himself in hand. He did, however, tug your shirt up just enough to bare your breasts to him.

Obscene, something inside him whispered in delight, a wave of throbbing heat flooding through him. Here you were asleep, shirt pushed up over your breasts, your naked cunt practically dripping onto the sheets. He balanced his weight on one arm as he hovered over you, indulging himself as he palmed gently at one of your breasts, dragging his thumb slowly against your nipple. That won him another soft moan in your sleep, your cunt clenching, body tightening around nothing. Your next moan was even louder when he dropped his head to drag his tongue hotly against your other nipple, drawing it into his mouth to catch it gently between his teeth, sucking lazily until you let out an even louder moan, one of your hands curling as if to claw at the sheets before relaxing. “Poor thing,” he crooned quietly, reluctantly leaving your breasts to climb the rest of the way up your body. “Listen to you, so needy.”

And it would only be right to help with that, wouldn’t it?

Once his hips were level with yours, he settled in, rocking and grinding his cock gently against your slit, slicking himself up with your warmth and the saliva he’d left behind. The sudden sensation of your burning heat against the underside of his cock made his mouth fall slack, and he started to pant at the little shocks of pleasure that washed over him every time he caught the head of his cock against your clit. You weren’t much better even asleep, whining as your hips jerked, eyes rolling frantically beneath your lids. It took everything in him to keep his motions gentle and slow, no matter how much his body demanded he grind and rut, fuck his way desperately inside you even if it woke you. No. No, not when he was so close, his cock now slick and ready for you. He let out a shaky breath, burying his face against your warm throat, huffing in the scent of you as he shifted the angle and began to slide inside you, centimeter by warm, delicious centimeter.

“Fuck,” he whispered shakily, one of his hands fisting desperately in the sheets beside your head. “Fuck, sweetheart. You feel so good.”

God, you were tight, so close to coming that you were already clenching tight around him. That tightness forced him to move gradually, his progress slowed to a sinfully dangerous crawl, one that allowed him to feel every last twitch and shift of your body around his cock. It seemed designed to make him lose his mind when he was already this worked up. In a blink, he’d caught the fabric of your shirt in his teeth, stifling his hoarse, shaky moan, your shallow, hitched breathing a tantalizing whisper of sensation in his ear. It felt like it took hours, ages before he’d finally hilted himself inside you, buried in your slick heat.

He forced himself to still there for a long moment, his chest heaving as he scanned over you with his senses again.

Stuttered breathing, each breath hiding a faint moan.

The fluttering clip of your heart, just slow enough to indicate you hadn’t woken.

Your fingers clenching and releasing, spread thighs shifting in minute, restless movements against the sheets.

It wouldn’t take much more for him to come, he knew that much—the taste of you still lingered on his tongue, filled his nose, and the drag of your skin against his with every breath only left him burning. But he wasn’t a selfish lover, even when you weren’t awake to beg and plead with him for release. No, he’d make sure you got what you needed, too: his sweetheart, so tender and soft and welcoming to the Devil even in sleep.

He slowly, gradually settled his weight onto one arm, sliding his free hand down between your bodies. Even that much shifting around had him swallowing down a groan, and he couldn’t resist grinding just a little inside you. It made you twitch and whimper, hushed and breathless in his ear as he pressed his cock against that spot inside you. Once he was sure that hadn’t been enough to wake you, he quickly dragged two fingers through your folds, raking gently to gather up your wetness before he brought them back up to your clit. The rhythm he started was slow and easy, a gentle grind and loop over your clit that matched the rolling waves of his hips as he began to gently fuck you, barely retreating at all before sliding smoothly back to fill you once more.

It took him no time at all to work your body up that final hill, your breathing growing shorter, your heart rate climbing as you began to tighten around him. It helped that he knew what you needed—each retreat was slow and gentle, and he never left you more than halfway before rolling lazily back forward, ensuring your warm cunt stayed achingly full as he brought you just up to the edge. This time it was your mouth that moved, not a word but a soft whisper of skin as you parted your lips, your head tipping back. And he knew that motion, even as slack and lazy as it was in your sleep.

He purred quietly at the unconscious request that he fill you there, too, lifting his head to seek out your mouth. One soft lick against your lips and you parted them for him on pure instinct, allowing him to slide his tongue filthily into your slack mouth, dragging his tongue against yours, granting you what you’d asked for. You let out a soft sigh, your throat working beneath him as you sucked at the taste of him, of yourself, of you both.

All it took from there was one more finger grinding against your clit, a gentle buck of his hips as he moaned into your mouth, and you crested, your body tightening and releasing around him in rippling waves. Your head rolled back in your sleep, a soft gasp shuddering up your throat as you twitched and shook, eyes rolling back beneath your lids. You let out what might have been a moan of his name, hot and sweet, a sound that seared its way across his mind like a brand. That was more than enough for him, and he let himself go. He groaned softly against your lips, snapping his hips gently against you as he spilled himself near-silently inside you, filling your cunt with a spreading heat that you wouldn’t notice until morning. He kissed you through it as gently as he could, rubbing lightly, quickly at your clit to drag your orgasm out along with his, pleasure rolling through him in gentle waves. Even once you both began to come down, he wasn’t quite done, rumbling a low, possessive growl as he ground himself inside you further, ensuring he’d coated every last inch of your warm cunt, his, you were his, even in sleep. He toyed with that overstimulation just long enough for his toes to curl, for his spent, softening cock to twitch inside you, spilling a few more drops, giving you everything he had as you drifted back down into a deep sleep.

Satisfied with what he’d given you.

He got one arm down and around your hip, gently, carefully rolling the both of you until you were both on your sides, his cock still buried deep inside you. He rumbled a low noise to reassure your sleeping mind, burying his nose in your hair as you sleepily curled into him, one arm draping itself over his waist.

“Love you,” he murmured. “My good girl.” “Mm.”

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