#it might look too small in *this* picture but its the way he's laying

[aidenwaites]

He got a new bed AND a new toy

[leviathanleva]

Caffè Crema

[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]

It was all fine and dandy between you two. You fed him and he helped you move heavy furniture. Then he comes to you with a question because you'd been unknowingly avoiding his advances.

"Is it the scars?"

And you're not really sure how to answer.

[5.2k words]

[Smut, MDNI]

Chapter 2 "Tea and Sugar Cubes"

By ‘come over for lunch sometime’ apparently, Simon understood showing up at your door exactly at twelve the next day. Of course, he hadn’t brought anything with him and you knew it wasn’t because he was stingy, but because he didn’t get invited randomly to nice events such as a lunch enough to know what to bring. He’d shown up in another ratty hoodie and worn-out jeans, his infamous skull facemask obscuring the lower part of his face, his disheveled blond locks tucked under a beany.

Despite the unexpected visit, you welcomed him with a warm smile and even warmer intentions.

He looked very much out of place once he set foot in your small apartment because it was a girl space, adorned with fuzzy couch cushions and color-coded Tupperware. Everything was in its place, everything was somehow delicate. Even your toilet had smelled nice when he’d entered it to take a piss. And of course, when he’d come to the kitchen to wash his hands, your soap was pink.

Simon felt transported into a whole other dimension as soon as he’d entered your humble home, he felt bad for leaving his muddy boots in your corridor as if they’d spread a disease through your sanctuary. He’d offered to leave them outside your door, but after much insisting on your part, he’d left them as they are – a stark contrast to the pretty little sneakers you most likely slipped on in haste to go to the store.

And sure, it was a bit unnerving to have a stranger lingering in your home as you prepared lunch for both of you, but your heart wouldn’t budge when you thought of gently escorting him out. He looked so tired, the discolored crescent moons under his eyes were prominent, the lines on his features looked deeper than they had been yesterday. He looked like he needed a good meal and a good nap after, a hot shower too.

You’d glance at him every so often, picking up the décor from the coffee table in the living room and inspecting it, tilting his head ever so lightly to the side, like a confused pup, before setting it back down and picking another. You’d left the kitchen door wide open to monitor him, but the more you looked, the sadder the picture of him became. You’d throw a comment his way, asking him about how his night had been, if he’d had any breakfast before coming, if he’d like to have a coffee, only to receive one-word responses.

Unfortunately, once you were slaving over the stove you couldn’t peek at him without looking suspicious so you just let him be. Surely, he hadn’t come to rob the place. He didn’t look like the type, seemed too polite in his rough and tough way.

Soon enough your mundane questions received no answers and despite knowing you might look like an anxious rat turning around, you did so anyway.

Only to find him asleep on your sofa.

He was curled up like a fetus, one arm tucked under his head with his face smushed in one of your pretty cushions. He was too big for the couch, that much was evident, he looked almost comical for napping on your girly sofa if it wasn’t for the fact that he’d been so tired he’d fallen asleep in a stranger’s apartment. You took pity on him, of course, you did, and brought over a blanket from your bedroom to lay over him.

He didn’t even budge when you tucked him in, only murmuring a sleepy curse before his light snoring began again.

It broke your heart when his meal was finally ready and you woke him up with a gentle shake to his shoulder. The poor thing looked so disoriented that you had to bite into your cheek just to keep from giggling. He scarfed down the plate of food you’d prepared for him so fast that you worried he might choke. He didn’t though, he literally licked the plate clean, stood up, thanked you for the food, and headed for the corridor to put on his boots and leave.

Despite the weirdness, you didn’t want to seem desperate, chalking up his sudden departure as him being busy. You let him leave with a soft chirp for him to stop by any time because he looked like he needed it. You’d curled up on the couch after, your lunch forgotten, and breathed in his faint scent of cigarettes and musk as you tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Ghost just kept coming after that day, unannounced, like a stray who’d finally found a home. After the third or fourth time he’d showed up for you to basically feed, bathe and let him nap, you started to find him work around the apartment.

“Simon, can you move the fridge so I clean behind it?” you ask in a sugary voice, timidly standing at the entrance to the living room because you liked looking helpless in front of him. Something about male pride and all that.

He got up without a word and stalked to your kitchen before moving the fridge with ease.

“Good ‘nough?” He glanced up at you, still crouched with his hands gripping the underside of the fridge.

And maybe you were a bit of an ass for shaking your head, but you liked watching him doing everyday tasks and flexing his strength for you.

“Little more to the left, please.”

He did as he was told and much to his surprise, you were beaming.

“Thank you, Darling.” You coo and pat the rumpled tuft of hair on his crown before he stands up to his full height.

A shudder runs up his spine at your gentle gesture and soon enough he’s moving furniture and reaching the top shelves in your kitchen before you can even ask. Anything to get another dose of praise and a mellow, appreciative squeeze to his arm or pat on the head. And Simon wasn’t one to easily open up and speak of what he likes and doesn’t, and he’d be caught dead before he admitted to your soothing gestures causing his entire body to tingle, but the fact was that they did and he was addicted from day one.

He liked your cooking, loved your praise and smile, and that was enough to keep him coming. As his visits continued, he started bringing offerings – from a steaming mug of coffee from the café you’d first met at, to flowers.

“My mate said you might like these.” Were his words as he thrust the bouquet in your arms and headed towards your living room without another word.

You’d pressed those flowers in an old book lying around, memorializing them while he’d been curiously peeking over your shoulder, with one large hand resting absentmindedly on your hip.

Then there was that one night when you’d offered him a slice of cake for dessert after a filling dinner. Typical him had accepted the offer and wolfed down the treat within two bites. Meanwhile, you’d been doting silently on him from the other end of the table, snorting when he looked up at you with icing stuck to his upper lip. You’d reached over to wipe him clean only to have him lean into your touch, thinking you were trying to cup his cheek. He’d avoided your gaze like the plague when he’d realized what you were doing while you tried to keep your little heart from shattering at his touch-starved demeanor.

Touches became not only a show of praise, but a frequent display of affection after that incident. Whether you were watching a movie on your couch or you were cooking something up in the kitchen, you made sure there was always some sort of physical connection between you two and since Ghost hadn’t protested, you’d taken that as a sign to keep at it.

Soon enough, quiet dinners extended to watching movies together afterward, which would, in itself, end up with the old soldier snoozing on your lap, his nose buried in the plushness of your thighs as his large arms encircled your waist, locking you in place until he woke up. You didn’t have the guts to stir him awake considering you didn’t know if the last time he managed to get shuteye was two days ago on that very same sofa or the night before at his base. You’d just card your fingers through his hair and rake your nails over his scalp while he purred at you in his sleep.

He told you little about himself and his work, but from what you’d gathered, he came from a troubled home, dragged an awfully dark past with him, and had very few people he considered friends. Soap was one of them. You’d actually laughed when he’d first mentioned Johnny’s callsign, refusing to believe him until he’d pulled out his phone and called the bloke to confirm.

In a way, you pitied him. Whatever he’d gone through was unimaginable to you, you could see it resurface in his eyes sometimes when you left him by himself to tend to chores or to return to work on your laptop. You tried to help, anchor him back as soon as his mind started drifting, and for the most part, you succeeded. But some days were tougher than others and besides being a silent, warm, physical manifestation of comfort for him, with arms draped over his neck and cheek pressed into his crown as he had his face buried in your sternum, there was nothing more to do.

He had to ride out the nightmares alone in his mind.

Despite PTSD constantly nipping at his heels, Simon looked better. The dark bags under his eyes began to subside the more he stopped by, the defeated slope of his shoulders evolved into a relaxed slump. The best part was that he’d put on weight under your constant pestering to eat more. You could tell, especially when he was clad in nothing but an old tanktop while helping you around the apartment, there was a thin layer of fat splayed over the hard plates on his stomach. His chest had grown, the biceps on his arms weren’t just two balls of muscle stuffed under his battle-scarred skin, there was more meat there now.

And maybe it was because he’d figured out that you didn’t expect anything in return for your kindness, or maybe your cooking tasted that good on his tongue, or maybe he really liked the feeling of your soft curves pressed into him whenever you were curled up on the sofa. But he’d shown up sporting a duffle bag in one hand one day. He’d set it down by his feet while you’d eyed him curiously, returned your gaze with one of evenness and calm, as if his actions made so much sense, and then he’d walked past you to go wash his hands.

He just…didn’t leave after that.

Still, ever the gentleman of few words, he’d taken it upon himself to sleep on the couch. As generous as you were, the bed was something you weren’t willing to give up, and thankfully he’d understood that fact without you having to voice it.

You’d not heard a single complaint from him for anything – not when you’d burned the lasagna that one time, or when you’d asked him to practically rearrange your whole kitchen because you didn’t have the strength to do so by yourself. It was a blessing.

What wasn’t a blessing was how blind you were to Ghost’s attempts at seducing you. When he’d practically picked you up and laid you on his lap during movie night, you’d chalked it up to him needing physical contact because he was having a bad episode. When he’d passed you in the kitchen with the intent to get to the fridge, he’d made sure your bum got the full package of his dick glide past it. He probably hadn’t had enough space to pass, so you’d moved closer to the counter, completely missing his intention. When he’d come out fresh from the shower, covered in droplets of water that just accentuated his mouthwatering physique and with skin steaming and glinting with cleanliness, he’d stood before you in nothing but a towel around his hips. His excuse was that he needed a towel for his hair as well and despite that he was puffed up and showing off like a peacock, you’d missed it. You’d gotten up in a hurry, worrying that he’d get chilly and catch a cold if he stood as such any longer. You’d rushed to find him something for his hair, unintentionally stomping over his plan of mesmerizing you with his provocative state.

He wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong. Everything he’d tried on you had worked on other birds in the past. So why were you not falling for it? Were you just not interested? Was he mixing up the signals?

Ghost was at a loss.

So much so that he’d finally had enough of your ignorant nature and simply brought it up.

“Think I’m ugly, Bird?”

You pause halfway into scrolling on your phone, thumb hovering over the screen, frozen. Your eyes lift and roll to the left and you look at Simon with the most dumbfounded expression you could muster.

You’d just finished lunch, now both lounging in your living room as you tapped away on your phone while he silently watched a random documentary on the telly, sprawled over the sofa with you, curled up at his feet, knees to your chest and squishing a pillow under your chin.

“What?” You blurt out and shift in your spot, being mindful not to crush his toes even though he’d tucked them under your bum to keep warm. You shake your head, blink at him a few times as if he’d just thrown the most inappropriate comment your way, and repeat: “I’m sorry, what?”

Still as a rock, while propped up one elbow, he doesn’t say anything more, patiently waiting for a proper reply. You ogle him, left partly speechless by his sudden inquiry, and silently set down your phone on the coffee table before puffing out an awkward breath and crossing your fingers in your lap.

“No, of course, not. What?” You let out an uneasy snort, thumbs dancing over each other to ease the embarrassment forming in your gut. “Why would you ask me that?”

There’s a moment of nothingness that passes, with only the TV buzzing in your ear as you stare at each other. As always he’s as relaxed as can be when under your roof, slack against the cushions while you’re coiled like a violin string, waiting for him to clarify.

He picks up the remote to lower the volume, maybe buying himself time before continuing the tense conversation.

“Don’ wanna sleep with me is all.”

“I – Excuse – ” You lean closer as if you’d not heard the words that had tumbled out of his mouth so casually.

“ – Is it the scars?”

You nearly pounce at his assumption, ready to smother him in tender kisses and gentle caresses until he forgets what he was even talking about. But you don’t because you worry how he’ll react to sudden movements, you don’t want to trigger him into military mode. So instead, you slowly scoot over and reach for his hand, curling yours in his calloused palm and locking your fingers together before giving them a squeeze.

“Simon…no.” A mournful smile speckles onto your lips as you speak, a certain melancholy to your usually warm eyes. Your answer gives no room for protests or objections, as simple as it is, it carries enough weight to snuff out the demons of uncertainty that have been plaguing him. “Not gonna lie, it’s insulting you’d even think that.”

“What’s the problem then?” He asks, voice hoarse and rough, the usual combo that sends pleasant chills down your spine and butterflies fluttering through your stomach. He sits up, hand still locked with yours as he comes to loom over you.

“There isn’t any!” You all but whine in barely sustained aggravation and grip his shoulder, shaking it gently, emphasizing your words with each weak tug and push. “I just…didn’t think. I mean… I’m happy to just have you here, Simon. I didn’t think you wanted to…” The words get caught in your throat as your pulse picks up pace. You rip your eyes away from his chocolate browns and sigh something defeated.

How was this even a problem at the moment? How hadn’t you picked up on his hints?

Thinking back, you saw the signs, the not-so-subtle gestures he displayed to show his attraction for you, that he wanted more. You’d been too worked up in trying to get him to have enough rest and feed him, offer a pleasant home for him. In your mind, he’d registered more as a beaten stray dog than a human with feelings and desires.

He was literally a grown man with a dick and you’d been treating him like a child.

It was embarrassing, hard to swallow the more your memories pile up your head.

“You think a bloke’s just gonna move in with a pre’y bird like you and not wanna shag?”

He pushes you back with his mass then, eases you back into the cushions with one arm gripping onto the armrest of the sofa to steady himself, making sure he doesn’t crush you under his weight.

“I just didn’t give it much thought.” You force out a murmur, yielding to him until you’re stuffed into the sofa, fidgeting beneath his bulk with your knees protectively lifted over your chest and ankles crossed over your sex. “I didn’t want to push in case you just wanted comfort.”

Your attention turns to the TV screen and you focus on the fleeting pictures there, still refusing to face him properly as both your bashfulness and embarrassment flare inside your chest. It’s too much, there���s just not enough space for your pounding heart, hyperventilating lungs, and emotions under your ribcage, you feel like bursting any moment now. But it doesn’t happen, instead, you're trapped beneath a man you barely know who’s made your home his as well.

It all comes flooding the more you’re left to explore the logical side of your brain.

You knew barely anything about him, hadn’t seen his face fully bared once, hadn’t known him for more than a month or two. He was just a random bloke you’d bumped into at the coffee shop and now, fast forward, he was living with you. Yet your heart lurches with excitement and heat begins to gather between your trembling thighs at his actions.

“Piss off with that shite.” He grumbles bitterly before sliding one hand under your calf and pulling your legs apart only to settle comfortably between them, trapping you beneath him. “Wanted to bend ya ove’ the counter moment I saw you fussin’ ‘round in the kitchen cuz of me.”

One large palm comes to knead at the supple flesh of your breast. He hisses in delight at your lack of a bra and dips his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent with delight. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, you were home. He was the intruder here, or was.

Intruder no more with his toothbrush in your bathroom and his clothes in your closet. A toothy smirk tugged on his thin lips at the realization.

Should have never been nice to him in the first place. Shouldn’t have let him inside your home.

Now you were stuck with him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You mewl beneath him, words muffled into his shoulder as you tentatively wrap your legs around his waist, hands coming to rest on his back and toying with the idea of pulling off his sweater.

He picks up on your tugs all too quickly and is more than willing, pulling away from you enough to discard the article before squishing you under his bare chest. It takes him to run his clothed mouth over the column of your neck once before you’re purring against him, clutching at the vast expanse of his marred flesh, nails catching ever so gently on the swells of his scars and making him bite back grunts of approval.

“Thought I’d be a gentleman and wait till you came t’ me.” He’s rasping softly in the shell of your ear as his rough, needy paw travels down to your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your loose top and greedily mapping out the skin beneath. The fabric bunches up under his exploration and soon enough he’s pulling it over your head and you’re too lost in the heat of him to protest. “Didn’t expect you to be this bloody daft though.”

He presses the growing tent in his sweats against your pulsing heat, earns a choked-out moan in return that ripples through his body and awakens his skin with goosebumps. You jolt in his arms at the sudden feeling, only to be stilled in place by muscular arms.

He’s scarfing down your scent like a man nearly drowned and, having pulled his mask up, lapping at your neck with fervor, crooked nose pressing into your pulse point.

“Pre’y bird…too busy takin’ care o’ me to take care o’ yerself.”

Your back arches up, breasts squishing against his chest, skin on skin, the contact making his mouth water as he continues to slowly grind against you.

And you’re so drunk on him that you’re a hair’s breadth away from tugging your shorts down and pushing his head between your thighs. But a part of you refuses to relent, the same part that keeps screaming in the back of your head that you know nothing about him except his name and occupation, which is your God damned home.

You’ve had flings before, one-night stands, but none of the men you’d been with were anything like him. He was intimidating, a giant of a man that could overpower you so easily it was laughable. He was fucking dangerous, he was lethal, and he was currently grinding against you like he’d not seen a woman before in his life.

“You alright?” Simon halts his hungry nipping on your skin and leans back enough to look you in the eye. A hand goes up to steady your trembling arm that you’d no idea was trembling in the first place. “You’re shaking…”

You offer him a wry smile, spitting a soft half-truth between chattering teeth. Technically you are cold, but it wasn’t the reason for your trembling. He was. His presence.

“Just cold…”

He snorts at your lie, but still tugs the discarded blanket on the backrest of the couch over his shoulders, cocooning you completely as he settles back above you, pressing you down into the cushions.

“Don’ worry, pre’y girl.” His nose brushes against yours as he slowly lowers himself, mouth and stubbly chin brushing over your sensitive skin. “I’ll keep you warm.”

While one arm stays glued to his back you let the other one wander, settling on his cheek, fingers dipping under his mask and making him swallow back a grunt as he shudders.

Despite your mind hollering and red light blaring in your mind, you’re the one that seals your mouths together, pressing your lips against his and flicking your tongue over the scar running down to his jaw. He snarls in your mouth, tongue darting out to fetch yours when his fingers dip beyond the hem of your shorts only to find you already dripping for him.

When he starts rubbing gentle circles into your swollen clit, you see stars in the back of your eyelids. Instinctively, you try to close your thighs around his hand, ending up only squeezing him closer by the waist. A heady moan makes you break the kiss, lips swollen and glistening with saliva, heavy-lidded eyes looking up at him in a haze of need and something Ghost refuses to acknowledge as trust. But your pouty expression and quacking thighs are enough to push him past the little patience he’d been clinging to.

He hooks his sopping fingers on the waistband of your bottoms before tugging them down your legs, a satisfied grumble vibrating deep in his chest as you wiggle along to hasten the process. Dark orbs peek from under blond lashes as he takes the sight of you, with only a thin slip covering your leaking sex. His canines slip from under his upper lip as he watches you cover your chest and mumble out that you’re cold again, face turned away from him as your cheeks heat up.

“ ‘S okay, luv.” He coos and dives back in, surging with satisfaction when you cling to him the moment he was in reach. “ ‘M here. Got you.”

He doesn’t even bother to take off your panties, just moves the soaked strip aside before shrugging his sweatpants down enough for his pulsing hardness to spring free. And you’re a curious creature, your eyes slip down to look at him ready and waiting, hovering over your pretty cunt, tip swollen and leaking already.

“I’m not safe.” I stammer out while swallowing back a copious amount of saliva at the sight of him. “You gotta – ”

“ – I’ll pull out.” He reassures you hurriedly before he’s already sheathing himself into your welcoming heat.

Ghost’s jaw clenches with forced-back moans as he sinks into your fluttering pussy. Remnants of you slick dampen the thick dark hairs at his base when he finally manages to bottom out inside you, forced to bully his cock through your tight walls until the tip kisses your cervix and makes your toes curl.

His hands found their way under your ass, cupping both firm globes of flesh and pulling you flush against him. You come face to face with his chest, the difference in size making your coupling a bit awkward in this position, but he doesn’t seem to mind. In all honestly, the ghost of a smile on his lips told you that he likes hovering over you like this while you took whatever it was he gave you.

And you want to scold yourself for taking him so willingly, for your body betraying you so quickly when he’d technically not given you anything besides a few tiny gifts that hadn’t even been his idea. But you can’t help but whine up at him instead, greedy little sounds of protest because he’s waiting for you to adjust to being split open on his cock instead of just fucking into you and giving you what you need.

You’re wrapped around him like a snake, muscles contorting and fingers clutching at the slope of his spine as he starts to gently rock his hips, balls slapping against your flesh and making you pant in anticipation of how full they were.

“Si – ”

He kisses you with a desperation that knocks the air out of you, curling in on himself and propping you up enough to silence you before his name slips past your lips. He readily swallows your moans, letting you sob on his tongue as he works you open with thrusts far too tender for your liking.

It’s a death sentence, hearing his name honeyed by your sweet voice, especially now. He wouldn’t be able to take it, would crumble in your arms and slip past your fingers like sand.

Despite his rush earlier, his restrain told you more than you wanted to know. That he’s not just fucking you dumb into your cute little sofa, that there’s more there, an intimacy you’d been too kind to bring up to him in exchange for the efforts you’d poured into him because that’s what you’d wanted from the start. The knowledge turns your legs to pudding and you find yourself struggling to keep hold of him as he rocks into you.

With a teary-eyed expression and a cry from a particularly angled thrust, you free his back from the onslaught of your nails and reach between your bodies to press down on your neglected clit, seeking relief from the tension building up painfully in your belly.

He smacks your hand away with a grunt, dips his fingers between your folds instead and glares down at you as if you’d just made a grave mistake.

It was his job to make you come. He was to have your toes curling, you shouldn’t have to do anything, and the fact that you’d tried to get yourself off while he was right there was insulting. The rough pads on his fingers circle your sensitive flesh and you’re clawing at him in pleasure, blubbering out loving incoherences that make his ears tingle.

He’s not fast enough to lock his mouth over yours and swallow the broken calls of his name when your climax washes over you. You’re too slippery beneath him, skin shining with a thin sheen of sweat as your cunt locks around him like a vice and refuses to let him pull out the whole way. Writhing as you are, he barely manages to lock you securely beneath him as he speeds up, spurred on to near madness by your breathless, throaty call, his name on your tongue turned on loop and the precious words of encouragements dusted in between.

It’s too intimate, his real name being moaned in such a way, hits too close to home, does something deep in his gut and makes his legs weak. His tempo becomes uneven, hips sputtering, slapping against yours as he drives himself in until his tip is pressing against your core. It feels surreal, everything around him does – your touches, ever gentle even when you claw at him, your heat, willing and slick just for him, your voice ringing so potently in his ears it makes his teeth chatter.

It’s all too much, your existence overwhelms him, all of his sense and soon enough he’s forgotten that he has to keep you safe, has to pull out of your addictive heat. Instead, he’s rutting against you viciously, fangs bared and eyes closed as he drowns in your pleas for more and the weak fists that are thumping against his chest.

You’re in no better state, urging him on and coiling around him with a promise that you’ll take a pill first thing in the morning. Your high-pitched howling shatters into gaspy sobs when he sinks his teeth into the soft flesh of your shoulder and snarls as he jerks his hips. His spent floods your welcoming womb, his balls sucked dry by your convulsing cunt. He’d nearly fucked you off the couch with how selfishly brutal he’d gotten in the end.

Spurts of cum seeped out of you when he begrudgingly pulled out, a whine clawing its way up your throat when you feel his shaky fingers gathering up the leaking fluid before pushing it back inside you. He clambers down next to you, rolls on his side and crushes you against his chest and you know better than to protest even though you’d love to take a nice hot shower right about now.

He eyes you with something akin to tenderness before tucking you under his chin and pressing his nose into your dampened hair.

It’s fine.

You’d take a pill tomorrow.

<<< Chapter 1

Chapter 3 >>>

Masterlist

[zehrbear]

shigaraki didn't know shit about sex before he met you.

all he even "learned", if you could even call it that, were through doujinshis and hentais that he watched, or those really extreme porn videos. poor boy, was so isolated from the human contact experience and is so deprived of touch that he puts all his frustration in a porn addiction.

so then, enter you in the picture, and shigaraki is so clueless. he's saying how he doesn't need your help, but you knew that he did need it once he tried to insert his finger DRY in you. he didn't even know where the clit was! and once you pointed out, he tried to play it like a joystick.

absolutely not!

so there's now shigaraki, having sex education for the first time of his life with you, who's using your body was example. and he finds out that getting himself off can have multiple ways of doing so. even better, he can get you off in multiple ways.

he tries being a dom when he finally gets the chance to use his cock instead of his tongue and fingers like he's been training the past days with you, but he finds the sensation so overwhelming that he crumbles, he almost cries from how good it feels!

so yeah, you now have a whimpering tomura, who's panting and moaning like a bitch while you ride the life out of him. he does cum embarrassingly fast, but that doesn't even matter, because he's somehow still hard! look at that, is that the most frightening villain of the century? crying as you keep on riding his overstimulated cock? blabbing incoherently and barely being able to say anything besides your name?

he can't even think anymore, all has been reduced to obsessive thoughts. his hands travel your body without knowing where to put them. if you let him hold your tits as you almost break his hips from how hard you're riding? he could cum just from that.

he became submissive so fast with you that it's almost pathetic, but you're just as crazy as he is, so instead, it's endearing.

moonie… moonie wtf im shaking… SHAKING !!!

i can just imagine him on top of you, moving the way he thinks he’s supposed to after rotting his brain with porn and hentai, wondering why you haven’t squirted or gone cross eyed yet. he’d be all force and no technique, going fast while you just lay there wondering if this was really what all that talk was about. it would get to the point where you’d have to flip him over, your legs on either of his as you lower yourself onto his cock and ride him nice and slow. and its like agony and bliss had a baby and punched him in the face. he’d throw his head back, muttering something and clenching his teeth as he fights the urge to hammer his hips up against you. but you’re so warm and tight and it’s like you’re sucking the souls out of him with every lazy roll of your hips. he’d try to reach for you, to take control (if you could even call it that) only to be forced down by your hand pressed against his chest, keeping him in place as you begin to go faster… harder. he’d be so loud too, whining and whimpering and feelimg tears prick at the corners of his eyes because fuck, he didn’t know it could feel this good. not with his hands or his toys he might have spent a small fortune on… no, nothing could compare to the way you were clenching around him and milking him dry. he’d be dazed, his heavy lidded eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, gray strands of hair sticking to his flushed, sweat glazed face as he pants before he finds you towering over him once more, your fingers spreading your cunt open and hovering over his lips. and it’s like hes gone dumb, the way he immediately opens up for you, his tongue sticking out for you to lower yourself onto and use while his hands fist into the sheets. he knows better than to reach for you. knows better than to act like he’s the one in control and risk having the euphoric feeling of your pussy on his tongue ripped from him.

only you could put tomura in his place like this <3

[muiitoloko]

Omg the fluff severus being a father!! Can we also get a fic where he and his wife discover they are having twins? In my mind palace that poor man had the happiest ending idc idc

Title: Double the Love

Summary: Severus and you learn that you’re having twin, and Severus faces the overwhelming realization that fatherhood will be double the challenge—and double the love.

Pairing: Severus Snape × Fem! Reader

Warnings: None.

Author's Notes: I absolutely loved writing this! But I have to admit, I was seriously wondering, how on earth do wizards even do ultrasounds? 😅 Since I couldn’t figure that one out, I just made it as magical and slightly ridiculous as possible, because why not, right? 😅 It’s a short piece, but I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!

First, Second and Third part here.

Also read on Ao3

The sterile white walls of St. Mungo’s were a far cry from the dimly lit, comforting darkness of the Hogwarts dungeons, and the bustling noise of Healers moving in and out of rooms only added to your nerves. You lay on the hospital bed, your hands resting on your growing belly, feeling the faint fluttering of movement within. At 22 weeks pregnant, today was the day you would find out the sex of your baby.

You glanced over at Severus, who sat beside you with his arms crossed over his chest, his expression as stoic as ever. He wasn’t exactly the picture of calm, though you knew him well enough to recognize the subtle tension in the way his jaw tightened and the way his long, slender fingers tapped against his arm. He was just as anxious as you, though he would never admit it.

The memory of last night brought a small smile to your face. You had caught him at his desk, a quill in hand, scribbling something on a piece of parchment with a concentration usually reserved for complex potion-making. When you peeked over his shoulder, you were both surprised and amused to find a list of baby names—both for boys and girls.

“Trying to choose a worthy name, Severus?” you had teased, leaning against the back of his chair.

He had glanced up at you, his expression unreadable but a faint blush creeping up his neck. “A name is important,” he had replied curtly. “It must be fitting. I won’t have our child saddled with something… inadequate.”

You had laughed softly, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “I trust you’ll find the perfect one.”

Now, as you waited for the Healer to arrive, the memory of that moment helped calm your nerves a little. Severus might be intimidating and stern on the surface, but beneath all that, he was already a devoted father—one who was taking the task of naming your child with the same seriousness he applied to everything else in life.

“Are you nervous?” you asked softly, your hand reaching out to rest on his knee.

Severus glanced down at your hand, his dark eyes softening ever so slightly. “Nervous? Hardly,” he replied, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness. “But I do wish this process would hurry along.”

You chuckled, knowing full well that was his way of admitting that he, too, was anxious. “Don’t worry, Severus. I’m sure the Healer will be here soon, and we’ll find out if we’re having a boy or a girl.”

He nodded, though his expression remained neutral. “Either way,” he said quietly, “the child will be exceptional.”

Before you could respond, the door opened, and a cheerful Healer stepped inside, her robes swishing around her as she smiled at you both. “Good afternoon!” she greeted, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I hear we’re ready to check on the little one?”

You nodded, sitting up slightly as she prepared the equipment. Severus remained seated, though his gaze followed every movement the Healer made with an intensity that might have unnerved a lesser witch.

“All right, let’s take a look,” the Healer said, positioning her wand over your belly. The gentle hum of magic filled the room as the spell illuminated the area, and you watched in awe as the image of your baby appeared on the enchanted screen.

Severus leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing as he studied the image with the same level of scrutiny he used when examining a particularly difficult potion.

“There we are,” the Healer said softly. “And… oh!”

Your heart skipped a beat at her sudden exclamation, and you shot her a nervous glance. “What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly.

The Healer’s smile widened, and she turned the screen so that both you and Severus could see it more clearly. “It appears you’re not having just one baby,” she said, her tone filled with excitement. “You’re having two! Twins!”

For a moment, the room was utterly silent. You stared at the screen, your mind struggling to process the words. Twins. Two babies. You glanced over at Severus, expecting to see some kind of reaction, but he was still as a statue, his dark eyes fixed on the screen. His usual calm exterior had been shattered by the news, and you could see the shock written all over his face.

"Twins?" he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Two?"

The Healer nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, two healthy little girls, from what I can see. Congratulations!"

Severus blinked slowly, his mind clearly racing as he tried to absorb the information. “Two girls,” he murmured, almost to himself. You watched him carefully, waiting for his response, but it seemed like he was still in a state of shock.

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. “Two girls, Severus! We’re going to have two daughters!”

Severus slowly turned to look at you, his expression a mix of disbelief and what could only be described as mild horror. “Two daughters,” he repeated, his voice flat. “Two sets of diapers. Two mouths to feed. Two…”

“Two future boyfriends,” you teased, unable to resist poking fun at him. “You’re going to have to keep an eye on them, Daddy Snape.”

At that, Severus paled even further, his eyes widening as the full weight of what you had just said hit him. “Future boyfriends?” he muttered, his voice tinged with dread. “I hadn’t… considered that.”

The image of Severus Snape dealing with teenage boys showing up at your door to take his daughters out on dates was too much, and you laughed even harder, clutching your belly as the joy of the moment overwhelmed you.

Severus stood frozen, the image of two tiny forms flickering on the screen in front of him. The words still echoed in his mind: two girls. He blinked, his dark eyes wide with shock, as the reality of it sank in. Two daughters. Two daughters. The healer’s voice faded into the background as his imagination took off, propelled by the unrelenting force of his overprotective instincts.

He could almost see it—boys knocking on his door at Hogwarts, their foolish, eager faces trying to charm their way past him to court his daughters. His daughters. His mind raced, spinning out scenarios of teenage boys chasing after them in the corridors, their idiotic grins widening as they tried to impress with foolish stunts or—worse—terrible jokes. What if one of his daughters dated an idiot? Or Merlin forbid, someone like Potter?

No! The thought alone was enough to send a surge of panic through him. His face, usually so composed, paled visibly.

“Severus?” Your voice, soft and filled with emotion, broke through the haze. You had grabbed his arm, your eyes shining with tears—tears of joy, not fear. “Two girls, Severus,” you whispered, pulling him into a tight hug, your hands trembling as they wrapped around him. “We’re going to have two beautiful little girls.”

Severus blinked, returning to the present as he felt your warmth against him, your joy flooding over him. His arms, stiff at first, slowly circled around you, holding you close. He could feel the tremor in your breath as you buried your face in his chest, your tears dampening the fabric of his robes.

Two little girls. The words echoed in his mind again, but this time the image was softer—more intimate. He could see it now: two girls with your smile, your laugh, your bright eyes full of curiosity and mischief. They would have your warmth, your kindness—your fire.

He held you a little tighter, knowing how emotional you had been these past few days, and a wave of tenderness washed over him. His thumb gently brushed your shoulder, a small gesture of comfort.

“Two girls,” you whispered again, your voice breaking with joy, and he could hear the love in your words. “Double the love, Severus.”

Severus closed his eyes, resting his chin on top of your head, letting the moment settle around him. His heart swelled, a strange and unfamiliar feeling, yet it was not unwelcome. The weight of it, the sheer enormity of the love that was building inside him, was overwhelming. He had never expected this—any of this. He had never thought that someone like him would be capable of this kind of happiness.

The healer’s voice floated back into his awareness. “Would you like pictures of the babies?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Snape nodded without hesitation, his gaze still fixed on the screen, where the tiny forms of their daughters moved faintly, their lives just beginning. He looked down at you again, still holding him, still crying softly with joy. His hand found the small of your back, steady and reassuring.

Two little girls.

He could almost see them in his mind’s eye—two mini versions of you, with your delicate features, your bright personality, and your fierce determination. He allowed himself, for the briefest moment, to imagine them laughing and playing, their voices filling the halls of Hogwarts. And him… there, watching over them, protecting them from anything that might dare to harm them.

A small, uncertain smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he thought about it—two little yous. His chest tightened at the thought, but then a new fear crept in. What if they looked like him?

He swallowed hard, his mind immediately racing back to his own school days. His hooked nose. The way he had been mocked and ridiculed. The cruel taunts, the laughter, the sneers. He didn’t want that for them. He didn’t want his daughters to suffer the same way he had.

“What are you thinking?” your voice broke through his dark thoughts. You had pulled back just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his face. “You’ve gone quiet.”

Severus hesitated, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “I was…” He cleared his throat, the words catching slightly before he forced them out. “I was hoping… that they’ll look like you.”

You blinked in surprise, then smiled softly, a knowing look crossing your face. “Severus,” you said gently, cupping his cheek with your hand. “They’ll be beautiful no matter what. Whether they look like you or me.”

He looked down at you, his eyes clouded with uncertainty. “I don’t want them to suffer… like I did.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice, and you shook your head, pulling him closer again. “They won’t,” you whispered fiercely, pressing your lips to his chest. “Because they’ll have you. They’ll have us. And we’ll make sure they know how loved they are.”

Snape stood there for a long moment, simply holding you, feeling the warmth of your words seep into him, dispelling the old fears. As he looked back at the image of their daughters on the screen, a sense of peace settled over him. Two girls. Two daughters. His family.

Our family.

And for the first time in his life, Severus Snape allowed himself to believe that he could truly have something this good, this pure. Two little girls with your smile. And even if they did have his nose… well, they would still be perfect.

[giuseppe-yuki]

gladiator

gladiator!ollie bearman x goddess of victory!reader

w.c.: 1.7k

warnings: slightly graphic descriptions of gore, angst

summary: yet another young gladiator prays to you in your temple

a/n: very unedited + there might be glaring historical inaccuracies :(

picture credits from pinterest :)

he’s young, not unlike all the ones before him. with tousled brown locks that ruffle as he darts along the marble floor, eyes that glow the colour of syrupy ambrosia in the dim flickering of the torches, and perfect muscled body, he reminds you of venus’ adonis in a way. your gleaming statue, wings outstretched, robes flowing, and holding your iconic laurel wreath, gazes upon him knowingly as he hesitantantly approaches your altar at the base of sculpture. your priests barely spare him a glance- they are too busy preparing a new sacrifice that lays neatly on your stone altar- a once-magnificent bull. its mouth is open in a silent scream and its eyes are glossy as the priests collect its crimson blood in a decorated jar and shave off selective portions of its raw flesh to burn as offerings. he watches as the head priest raises his glistening knife, sticky with blood, and brings it down into the bull’s rough hide with a rough thwack, and he thinks he is going to be sick.

still, he falls into a kneel in front of your statue, like a lowly subject in front of an emperor, and like the ones before him, prays for victory.

you sit near the emperor’s viewing box, in a seat only the highest generals could afford. your appearance flickers to those around you- sometimes appearing as a beautiful maiden or a wizened old man. the crowds don’t notice your wavering form, instead focusing all their attention to the sandy center of the amphitheater, where the boy cowers with a silver sword and flat-planed shield, awaiting his opponent. above you, the emperor lounges lazily on a plush couch and inhales grapes from the vine. when he gives a signal- a mere flick of his hand- the gates of the amphitheater rumble open to reveal a snorting bear, prompting the audience to roar in approval. it was obvious- they were here to see blood, and that was what the emperor would give them. 

within the first minutes, the beast had already batted away the boy’s flimsy shield and raked his sharp claws against the length of the boy’s leg. rivulets of red, like rubies against his pale skin, flow down from the wound, satiating a fraction of the crowd’s hunger. you can see how he grips his sword tight enough that his knuckles turn white and the fear in his eyes as he tries to limp away from the bear. you can also see the hesitance in his swings that open up deep cuts that flow vermillion along the animal’s hide like the wound on his leg. you help the best that you can. a miscalculated stumble of the bear, a slight push away from the path of the beast’s paw, a guide of the sword towards a critical artery. but, when he finally plunges his bloodied sword into the throat of the exhausted animal, like a knife through butter, it is all his doing. it reminds you of the first fight of another young champion of the past, sebastian, and the roar of the lion that he had fought with a spear. when the animal lies, dying, in its own pool of blood, does the boy finally collapse onto the sandy ground, exhausted in his own sense. before he passes out from blood loss, he raises his head, and it’s like he looks directly at you. 

you come to him in the form of a young medici, a bag of bandages, ointments, and herbs in one hand. ollie, is what he says his name is, and he gives you a small smile even as he lay pale and bleeding on the rough cot in the newly assigned private sleeping quarters for victors. he’s prettier up close, even when his brown eyes blink at you hazily and his cheeks are colorless from the lack of blood. 

he first opens his mouth to break the silence when you are spreading your magical nector salve on his wounds.

“i’m glad they sent someone as beautiful as you to come patch me up,” he says in a lilting tone, eyes trained on your profile.

you can easily strike him down like you always do with unwanted advances from mortals, but instead, you laugh, a twinkling sound that ollie swears is the prettiest thing he’s ever heard. 

“you flatter me,” you reply, a rare smile gracing your face.

although you are not aesculapius, the god of medicine, your hands make quick work in firmly wrapping the soft bandage expertly around the openings on his leg. after all, it would be pretty pathetic if a champion with the blessing of the goddess of victory herself didn’t last a full day after his win.

when you are done, you wave your hand subtly over the top of his wounds, willing the greater parts of his pain away. he visibly relaxes, like a weight had lifted from his shoulders. 

his eyes track you silently as you throw your materials back into your brown medici bag. it triggers the memory of a certain eerily quiet champion you had blessed before- kimi- whose bright blue eyes you can remember skittering across your figure when you had bandaged his wounds. 

when you are done packing up your bag, you tread lightly to the door. before you can pull it open, ollie calls out to you. 

“wait,” he says, voice pleading.

you hesitate, but turn back to him, your tunic swishing. 

ollie looks at you with wide eyes, as if he didn’t believe that he had spoken out loud. 

“can you- can you stay for a bit?” he asks apprehensively. 

there are a million things to tend to, like overseeing minor battles, ensuring triumph in campaigns, and granting the prayers of the mortals that knelt in your temples, but you can’t help but concede to his request. 

you neglect your duties for far too long in the damp room with ollie. it was laughable in a way, to see the great goddess of victory pliant under the wiles of a young mortal.

he talks about his parents, about his younger brother, and his little sister, and about how he dragged away one fateful evening from his family to become a gladiator, unlike the multitude of other bloodthirsty gladiators from rich families that wanted fame and fortune. but, when he comes to the topic of his actions in the arena, he suddenly goes still. 

“i didn’t want to kill it, you know,” he whispers quietly, as if he didn’t want to admit it. 

his bottom lip quivers, and it is now that you are reminded how young he really is. it is a reminder of another victor that you had championed, charles, and his unwillingness to kill, even as a successful gladiator. like charles, big fat tears slip from the corners of his eyes when he thinks back to the poor creature, most likely chained and beaten, being made a spectacle, and dying by the hands of another for entertainment. however, you knew they always toughened up after awhile- they always did. so, you brush a comforting hand through his curls, kiss him gently on the forehead, and it’s only when he falls into a deep sleep do you finally leave the room.

you see him again several days later, this time in the great roman amphitheater again. again, he stands with his flat-planed shield and silver sword in the dusty middle of the arena. a look of fierce intensity flashes across his helmeted features, unlike the last time he was in this position, making him look significantly more willing to slay whatever beast steps in his path. 

however, when the emperor waves his hands, commanding the gates to rumble open, and the crowd thunders in excitement, what steps out is a familiar man with thick black hair that seems to sway perfectly in the breeze, a hint of stubble, and pouty pink lips that you knew all too well. carlos, you remember his name was.  you remember too, the way he had knelt down in your temple all those years before like ollie had. he had made an offering of three silver coins- all that money he had- and begged for you to protect him in the arena. true to your word, you gave him your divine protection until he became the emperor’s champion gladiator, personally favored by the elite and the crowd. 

carlos makes the first move, taking advantage of ollie���s barely healed leg. his weapon of choice, an engraved dagger, hacks a deep line of red as it carves from the tip of ollie’s right shoulder to his hip. at the sight of the excess bright liquid cascading down the younger boy’s body, the crowd erupts in a frenzy. when ollie collapses, unmoving, on the ground, they seem to chant carlos’ name- our champion, our champion, they scream. it seems like ollie is just another easy opponent, another nobody that would ultimately make their way onto the carlos’ lengthy list of the vanquished. carlos turns away from ollie to face the crowd, a smile on his lips and arms open, embracing the crowd. he has not lost once for a year, so what makes it seem like he would lose now?

that’s what makes it all-too-surprising when ollie pushes himself up with god-given strength and hacks down on carlos’ neck as hard as he can, with his sword. it lands with a wet thwack the way the priest’s knife did in the bull back in your temple before.

when ollie is paraded through the town, a victor’s laurel wreath atop his pretty head, the crowds that once shouted carlos’ name now screams ollie’s, crowning him as victor. neverending bottles of wine, cornucopias overfilling with food, and precious jewelery are thrust into his arms from every direction. you know it feels good to be loved by the people. it’s a pity, because you know ultimately, your divine interventions would draw the attention of the three parcae who controlled peoples’ fate. the fate of a gladiator was to die; they always did. it was proven with all the past gladiators you championed-  the brave sebastian, quiet kimi, kind-hearted charles, and now, the resilient carlos. it was all a matter of time before they would take ollie. even worse, the crowd would probably move on just as quickly like they did with carlos. so, for now, you watch as he smiles his dimpled smile and let him bask in the glory of being victorious. 

[sinkovia]

Coffee Shop: VII

Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

You work at a small cafe that Simon starts visiting when he’s not deployed.

Coffee shop Masterlist

The next morning as Simon lay in bed, he clicked on the link you texted him about the adoption website. Navigating to the section for dogs, he was surprised to find only one listing – the last puppy up for adoption.

It was a male German Shepherd puppy, approximately two months old. Knowing the pup was too young for K-9 training, Simon decided that having a companion at home would be comforting until then. Quickly filling out the online form, within ten minutes, the puppy was officially Simon's.

The shelter informed him that his new furry friend would be ready for pick-up at noon. Simon went about his morning routine, enjoying breakfast and engaging in a rigorous workout until it was time to pick him up.

Leaving the shelter, Simon stared at the small canine now occupying the passenger seat. The puppy looked up at him with big brown eyes, tilting its head to the side. Simon reached over and noticed the collar was blank.

“No name, huh?” he mused, and the puppy yawned in response.

"Like a little ghost," Simon remarked, and the puppy turned its head, seemingly considering the suggestion.

"Should your name be Ghost, hmm? Well, that might be a bit confusing on base." The puppy whined and laid down in the seat. 

"Ghost Jr.?" The puppy didn't seem convinced, and Simon nodded, "Yeah, it doesn't have the same ring to it."

Simon reached for his phone and snapped a picture of the puppy, deciding to seek suggestions for a name from the team by sending it to the group chat Johnny had created.

Ghost: Name recs?

Johnny: Bartholomew

Captain: Bloody hell, Soap...

Johnny: What about Ghost Jr.? He has your eyes, L.t.

Gaz: Doesn’t really have a ring to it, mate.

Ghost: Thought so too.

Captain: That little pup does look like a Riley.

Ghost looked at the message and back at the puppy.

“What do you think of the name Riley?” The puppy stood up and started walking over to Simon, nestling himself in his lap before closing his eyes.

“Okay, Riley, I gotta drive, mate; you can't sleep there.” Simon picked him up and placed him back on the passenger seat, but Riley got up and made his way back into his lap.

“Bloody hell. Fine, just don’t move around or I’ll crash.”

Simon picked up a few things for him on the way home and set up a corner of the living room for him. After finishing, he sat down on the couch and took a few different pictures of Riley, sending them to you.

When Simon's name lit up on your phone, you eagerly grabbed it, swiping it open to reveal his notification. Your mouth dropped at the sight of the adorable puppy.

Y/n: WOW, you actually adopted him!? He’s so cute!! Did you decide on a name?

Simon: Riley.

He sent another picture of Riley, the puppy looking down at the camera, lifting his paw up, and you nearly melted.

Y/n: Riley is such a cute name for him. Have you bought him any clothes or toys?

Simon smiled as his eyes read over the message. So, you think his last name is cute, huh?

Simon: Riley is my last name.

Simon: Clothes? Dogs need clothes?

Y/n: Oh, I didn’t know that. The name suits him. He’s like a mini you :)

Y/n: They don’t need clothes, but it makes them look really cute. He might need little shoes since it’s getting colder.

Both you and Simon found yourselves smiling at your phones as you texted back and forth. The conversation shifted, and you asked him about his day. You even sent him a picture of your cat Missy, to which he replied.

Simon: She looks hateful.

Y/n: No, she doesn’t! She looks cute.

Throughout the day, you and Simon exchanged a few pictures. Simon shared more photos of Riley, curled up next to him while watching a movie. In return, you sent a picture of yourself in your garden, busy planting new flowers.

This led to Simon asking more about your garden, and you gladly shared details about your favorite plants and flowers. You took him on a virtual photo tour of your backyard, showcasing a thriving fruits and vegetables garden. 

Simon: What type of stuff you growin?

Y/n: Some onion, garlic, potatoes, cabbage, cauliflower, zucchini, carrots, and some others I can’t remember off the top of my head.

Y/n: I even have a cute little apple tree! 

You snapped a picture of Missy sunbathing next to your basket full of produce. Simon smiled at the stretched-out cat, leaning over to show Riley the picture.

“You fond of cats?” Riley started nibbling on the hem of Simon's jacket.

The following day, in the afternoon, you found yourself finishing the batch of apple strudels you had baked, only to realize you had made too much. A sigh escaped you as you surveyed the pan filled with the pastries and glanced at the abundance of produce you had harvested the day before. The realization hit that, being just one person, much of it would go to waste before you could use it all.

You decided to put some of the strudels into a container. Grabbing an extra basket, you carefully arranged half of the vegetables you had picked yesterday.

I'm sure Simon wouldn’t mind a free delivery?

With a small basket and container in hand, you made your way up his driveway and rang the doorbell. Simon peeked through the peephole and cursed when he saw you on the other side.

“Just a second.”

He quickly retreated to his bedroom, donning sweatpants and a hoodie before returning to the door, opening it.

“Hi, sorry to bother you so randomly in the day. I just wanted to drop these off since I had extra.” Simon looked down at the basket in your hands, and then his gaze went to you. He was about to thank you when Riley went between his legs, walking to you. Your eyes grew wide, and you put the basket down on the ground.

“Hi Riley, aw, look at how cute you are.” Simon smiled down at you, loving the way his last name sounded when you said it. Riley was licking your face, and you laughed.

“Would you like to come in?”

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude if you're busy.”

“Wasn’t doing much before you came.” 

Simon had been lying in bed, watching a Gordon Ramsey cooking video in nothing but his briefs.

“Okay,” you smiled up at him, and he reached over, grabbing the basket you brought. You picked up Riley, and both of you walked inside. 

Simon's living room bore witness to his minimalistic approach to decor, featuring only a couch, a TV, and a coffee table. As you stood in his living room, the blank walls and empty space caught your attention.

“Sorry love, don’t really know how to decorate.” You laughed, placing Riley down.

“There’s actually a Ross not too far from here. Maybe you could get a lamp… or two. Maybe a painting?” You glanced around, noticing the absence of a dining table or any items on the counters in the kitchen.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this house was for sale.” Simon laughed, placing the basket you brought on the counter.

Simon raised an eyebrow. “Never heard of a Ross.” You turned to face him, eyes wide, “You're joking, right?”

“Dead serious, love.” You pulled out your phone and showed him a picture of the Ross building. “You're telling me you’ve never been inside one of these?”

Simon shook his head again. What was the big deal about this store?

"They have everything in this store! Furniture, clothes, skincare, shoes, purses, home decor, even some spices and snacks, but I wouldn’t trust it. You have to go, Simon! They even have clothes and toys for dogs.” Glancing at the time, Simon looked back at you.

“You have anywhere to be right now?”

“No, I don’t really have things planned on the weekends besides spending time with Missy.”

“You think she’d mind if you were gone for a few hours.” Your smile grew as you caught on to what he was hinting at.

“No.”

Simon placed Riley in the large cage he had bought, and the drive to Ross took only around five minutes. The short trip to the store became a chance for Simon to discover more about your interests and preferences for small talk of course, not that he wanted to know more about you, of course not.

As you walked into Ross, you rambled on about various pieces of furniture and decor, grabbing a cart and leading Simon towards the furniture section. Simon's eyes widened as he checked the price tag for a nightstand.

“Are these things broken or chipped? Why are they so bloody cheap?”

You laughed as Simon added the nightstand to his cart. Navigating through the store, you selected a stylish black lamp, and Simon followed suit, placing it in his cart. Moving on to the decor aisle, you looked at various candles, allowing Simon to sample a few before he settled on one with a pine scent. 

You continued adding small decor items for Simon's coffee table – throw pillows, throw blankets, a rug, a bookshelf, minimalist frames, place mats, and even a skull wax warmer with some clean linen scented melts. Your choices filled the cart with a mix of stylish and cozy additions for Simon's home.

In the kitchen aisle, you insisted on essential items – a fruit basket, organizers for his pantry and fridge, additional pots and pans, and more cooking utensils. Simon, who only owned one pan and one of each silverware, recognized the practicality in your suggestions.

In another aisle, he saw you looking at a cat mug before putting it back and wandering into another section. He quickly grabbed the mug and placed it at the bottom of his cart before making his way to you.

“You ready, love?” You hid something behind your back and nodded, “Yeah, I’ll meet you up front. I just need to look at something real quick.”

You found yourself in the doggy section of the pet aisle, examining various toys and outfits for Riley. Noticing he only had one rope chew toy, you felt compelled to get him more. You selected a little squeaky bone chew toy, a tuxedo, a sweater, and some adorable little shoes – perhaps a size too big, but too cute to resist. To complete the ensemble, you even chose a fluffy bed for him to sleep on.

Doubt crept in – was this too much? Should you put something back? Would Simon find it odd? Shaking off the uncertainty, you shrugged and placed everything in your cart. As you made your way to the registers, you spotted a clearance aisle filled with past holiday-themed items. A cute black and white skull mug caught your eye, and you picked it up.

He asked you to draw skulls on his bookmark, and he really liked the skull wax warmer. I’m sure he’d like this.

 Placing it in your cart, you walked to the registers. Meeting Simon at the front after both of you finished paying, you helped him carry his bags to the car while he handled the nightstand.

When you returned to Simon's house, you dove into helping him unpack everything in the living room. You organized items, rearranged furniture, and experimented with different placements until the layout felt just right.

While you were busy making his home feel cozier, Simon had taken charge in the kitchen, using the ingredients you brought to prepare a meal. He made oven-roasted vegetables and steak, with guidance from a Gordon Ramsey video. Pulling the newly purchased mug from the Ross bag, he washed it and filled it with ice water.

Unbeknownst to Simon, you had stationed yourself on the floor behind the couch, secretly dressing Riley in a little tuxedo. Just as you finished putting on his tiny pants, Simon walked over with two plates, setting them down on the coffee table. Trying to conceal Riley, you quickly grabbed some black kids' sunglasses from the bag and placed them on Riley before picking him up and showing Simon.

“He looks like the dog from the bookmark! I couldn’t find a toy assault rifle, though.” Simon paused for a few seconds, looking at Riley and you holding him up with a big smile. He laughed and picked Riley up, your hands brushing against each other for a moment.

Simon couldn’t ignore the way his heart skipped a beat, feeling your hand against his. A foreign sensation of touch, yet Simon found himself yearning for his hand to linger against yours a few seconds longer.

“I have to show the boys this.” Simon laughed, handing Riley back to you so you could hold him up. He took a picture from the side, excluding you, but the moment he sent it, the boys bombarded his phone with questions, asking if those were your hands and if you two were on a date.

“I also got him another outfit, it’s this sweater and some little shoes for when you take him outside when it starts snowing.” Simon smiled as you gestured towards the other outfit laid out on the couch.

“Thank you, love, for spending your money on him. You really didn’t have to.” You smiled and got up, sitting on the couch.

“It’s no problem at all. I wanted to see him dressed up.”

“He’s definitely going to be a ladies' man at the dog park now.” You laughed, finally noticing the two plates on the coffee table.

“Oh! Is this for me?” Simon walked over to the kitchen, bringing your new mug. “No, it’s actually for Riley.” He approached you with a grin and placed the mug down on the table in front of you.

Your eyes grew wide upon seeing it. “Oh my god! I was thinking about getting this mug at Ross!”

“It’s yours, love, and I cooked dinner for us as a thank you for spending your day helping me spruce up my place and for sharing your garden with me.” You smiled, looking at the delicious meal in front of you. Simon had used the potatoes, carrots, and everything you gave him. The aroma filled the air, and you realized how hungry you were. Almost forgetting the mug you had bought him, you dug through the bag and pulled it out.

“I almost forgot. I actually got you a mug.” When you handed it to him, he smiled, looking at the little skulls.

“You know me so well.” You smiled up at him, and the moment lingered for a few seconds before Riley tried to jump on the coffee table to get to the food.

Simon put on a movie, and both of you enjoyed dinner together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch and sipping from the cups you had bought for each other. After finishing, you insisted on washing the dishes he used to cook, despite his multiple offers to handle it. You expressed gratitude for his effort in cooking, considering the least you could do was tackle the dishes.

Once done, you both indulged in an apple strudel, using the moment to learn more about Simon—his favorite color, a few favorite foods, little details that brought you closer. As the night grew late, you decided it was time to head back home.

“I should really head back home; it’s late.” Despite spending the day with you, Simon felt a twinge of disappointment at your leaving.

“Let me grab my keys; I’ll walk you home.”

“Oh, are you sure? I mean, I only live a few houses down.”

“I insist; it’s dark out. You only live a few houses down anyway; it’s no bother.”

Strapping Riley to a leash, the three of you walked to your house. You pointed out various flowers and plants around your front door, and Simon mentally noted them down, remembering the ones you said you didn't have.

“I had a lot of fun today, and thank you again for cooking and for the mug.” Simon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket while Riley sniffed around your flowers.

“I should be the one thanking you; my house doesn't look like a prison cell anymore.” You laughed and lightly shook your head. “Maybe next time you could come over, and I could show you how to grow a thing or two. You could meet Missy.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” You smiled and kneeled down to say goodbye to Riley.

“I’ll talk to you later, goodnight Simon.” You grabbed the keys from your pocket and unlocked your door.

“Goodnight, love.”

When you closed the door behind you, Riley let out a low whine. Simon turned and began walking away.

“I know, Riley. I feel the same way.”

[bedoballoons]

Request!!! If I may~ How will they propose? 💍 For Lyney, Xiao, Wanderer, Albedo, Cyno, Kazuha, Tighnari, Kazuha, Heizou, Wrio, Kaveh, Alhaitham~ (feel free to remove some characters or split it if its too much to do at once :3)

Currently in wedding mood and brainrotting about how will the proposal go. Aaaaa 🥰🥰

~🦊🐾✨️

I love writing wedding proposals, they just are so beautiful and full of love, I hope you enjoy! <3

P.s. I did cut out alot of them but I will most likely make a second part!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🍂

{༻~Will you marry me?~༺}

CW: Very fluffy! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour, Albedo: My love, Wanderer: dummy, Kazuha: Butterfly)

(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Xiao, Wanderer, and Kazuha!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney held up a card for you, but it wasn't like any of the others in his deck, in fact it wasn't even one you'd ever seen before, "Ooo did you get new cards Lyney? I thought I'd seen all your trick ones!" He chuckled softly, knowing full well that the card in your hands was not only one of his tricks...but also his whole heart, "This ones particularly special Mon amour, watch~"

You trained your eyes on the card, paying close attention as his hand waved over it, just like magic, the picture changed...showing nothing but a ring, a beautiful ruby ring. You weren't sure what it meant, if this was a trick of the eyes...or possibly a moment you'd been dreaming of, "Lyney-"

"What do you say? Care to spend forever together? Cause...I know I want to. I want to spend every single day with you." The magician smiled at you sweetly, you felt like your heart might explode, tears welling up in your eyes. There wasn't any other option, "Yes! Of course yes!"

"Phew, I was getting alittle worried." He pulled you close so he could kiss your cheek and before you could even open your eyes, he'd changed the card into the ring it had once shown.

𑁍༄Albedo:

"What are you up to my love?" Albedo sat down next to you, his arms wrapping around you almost automatically so he could pull you close and rest his chin on your shoulder. He just loved being so close to you, holding you and just watching whatever you were doing, it was almost like his way of studying what you liked.

"Just reading something. It's a love story and truthfully it reminds me of us." You leaned back into him, laying your head back so you could see his reaction...to your surprise...he had a slightly mischievous look.

"Do they? I suppose it isn't to difficult, our romance is truly out of a novel...do they happen to get married in the end?"

Your heart skipped a beat and suddenly you felt flustered, "Yes...why do you ask?"

"Just wondering if it's as accurate to our love story."

"But we arent-"

"Not yet, but if you say yes we could be~" He kissed your cheek as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a small black jewelry case.., "I promise it will be a happily ever after~"

𑁍༄Xiao:

"You arranged your teapot?!" You were in awe, unable to even form a coherent thought as you looked at the now beautifully decorated surroundings. Xiaos domain had originally never changed since he received his teapot, in fact he almost never used it as he preferred to sleep outside. He was originally going to give it to you...say you could build a home for the two of you to live together, but then something had changed his mind.

"I'm...sorry if it's not perfect. I was going to ask for help from the other adepti, but I decided I wanted it to be my own creation. My creation of the perfect spot for us..."

Your cheeks became dusted with a light pink as he spoke, he'd made the perfect spot for the both of you...and he'd done so in the perfect way. "Xiao I love it! We are going to live here together right! This will be our home!" You couldn't contain your excitement, you wanted to run into the home in the middle and squeal, but he seemed to have something else to say.

"Yes...but it's also more than that." He stepped closer to you, his hand gently intertwining with yours as he stared deeply into your eyes...he captivated your attention so easily when he did this, "I want this to be the place of our wedding. The place where we make our promise..."

"W-wedding??"

"Yes...if you will have me. I would like to marry you. Please?"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"Can I open my eyes yet?" You groaned quietly, trying to peek through the cracks in Wanderers fingers as he lead you deeper into the forest, to a area you'd thought was off limits. You didn't know what had gotten into him, why he was so keen on making sure you couldn't see anything until he said so...why he seemed so absolutely and utterly nervous. He never got nervous, flustered maybe, but nervous? Maybe he was plotting something, "You're not trying to kill me are you?"

"What in teyvat are you talking about? If I wanted to kill you do you really think I'd go through the effort of bringing you here?"

"Maybe. Maybe I'd know if I could see where here is..."

"You can look in just a minute. Now shush and watch out for the branch at your feet."

"You said just a minute 5 minutes ago." You felt yourself wanting to roll your eyes, but to your delight he actually removed his hands so you could see...and it was anything but what you were expecting.

It was a miniature village, filled with creatures you'd only thought were in story books..and even crazier was the large cake they were grouped around. The letters were definitely wonky and some of the words weren't even spelled right, but it clearly read, "Will you marry me?" You spun around to meet Wanderers gaze and he simply smirked at you, "Answer my question dummy~"

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Kazuha what is this place?" You gasped softly, taking in the vibrant hues of pink trees and the sweet smell of tea brewing, even the grass somehow held a magical feel due to its light blue tint. How this all could be in a cave was beyond your understanding, but of course it didn't surprise you, Kazuha had a way of finding the most beautiful hidden spots and he always enjoyed sharing them with you.

"It's one of the few places in Inazuma that I could come to after the decree had been set in place. It became a important part of my life, somewhere I could hide out and write my hymns and sorrows. Now I come back to show that the darkest part of my life has ended and is now replaced with the most bright and wonderful light. You of course being my light butterfly, I thought it only fitting to bring you here for this.."

Your eyes widened slightly, during his small speech he'd gotten more nervous...and then towards the end he seemed downright flustered, which was so different than his normally calm collected personality. "Bring me here for what?"

He smiled shyly at you, feeling like his heart might explode as he kneeled before you, retrieving the ring he had hand crafted for this very moment. He could tell you were beyond shocked and he hoped dearly that it was in a good way, "Will you marry me butterfly? I need my light in the dark...I cannot see any future without you..., every thought of the next day is centered around you and the love I can give you. Please, allow me to love you...forever and always."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[cokou]

𝚂𝚞𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚘 + 𝙰𝚌𝚎 × 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

sum. Forcing your boyfriend to adopt a new fuzzy friend into the household, maybe you've spent too much time with the fuzzy. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. Fluff. Jealousy. Law's and Ace's a bit longer cause, favoritism. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. New writing style! We could never go wrong with loving fuzzy and cute animals!! Dont transfer or translate in any platforms,this is my only account, will not be cross posted anywhere! masterlist♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚊𝚠

After joining the Heart Pirates and dating their captain, your number one entertainment is to soend time with Bepo and Law. While Bepo does feel embarrassed for your acts to him, you absolutely felt like he's a huge cuddly bear more than a scary one.

He even complained to Law himself that he should get you your very own fuzzy friend since you've bothered Bepo so much he couldn't face you anymore without getting embarrassed! Law, the asshole he is, refused to get you one.

You very much enjoyed the idea and pestered Law into getting you one yourself and have some dignity for Bepo, then, he finally agreed. You both visited a pet shop, and just with it's entrance you couldn't leave anymore. Inside were full of cute animals waiting to be adopted, you just wanted to take them all.

"(Name)-Ya, what about this guy?" He pointed and peeked into the small cage, and there, was a white fluffy kitty who has just woken up from its slumber. Yes, perfect! It looked so cute and cuddly! You already fell inlove with it just by looking! "Awh, look at how much she resembles Bepo!"

You both took her back, and upon your arrival you set her free in her new home, the sub.

For the past few weeks, your attention had been glued to your new friend, not wanting anything on your path. It was so bad you had more pictures of her than you and Law combined! And the way you trip because you watch her instead of where you were going.

Law on the other hand, was definitely not feeling it, he felt like the white furball just replaced him with everything! You shared a bed with her, she gets your attention, she gets to be with you all day! If he were honest, he would blurt out how jealous he was for the furball.

In which, you suspected him for. "Law, are you really okay? You've been quiet and only staring since you sat down."

"I told you I am okay, don't worry." He finally let out a sigh after realizing you weren't with the kitten anymore, that was until he heard meow, and behind you was the kitten. You picked her up and setted her into your lap, receiving a piercing glance from Law.

"Are you okay? You're doing the stare aga— ohhhh..." You had finally realized that he was jealous, not by anyone, but the kitty that you've been giving attention to.

"What?" "Don't tell me you're jealous of our little furball!" You laugh at him. "What?! W-why the hell would you think that?"

"Law, it's quite obvious...come here, lay with us." You invited him with open arms and he jumped right into you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙻𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢

Ever since Chopper had joined the Straw Hats, you couldn't take your hands off his cheeks and head, continuesly patting and hugging him from his cuteness. Even your boyfriend, Luffy had agreed!

Chopper was definitely nice to have around, when you're stressed? You pat him. When you need to let it out? Hug him. He's just so cute and fuzzy! The way you'd kill people when you hear them talk bad about Chopper, because you refuse to let people think that he was a monster.

Eventually Luffy thought that you and Chopper became best friends of how you two always chatter about everything, at first he taught it's what makes the crew more unique.

But eventually, after a month, he noticed how you'd been glued with the reindeer all the time. He taught it was normal since you two were best friends but, this time you might have crossed the line.

"(Name)!! I'm hungry, can you cook meat?" He asked you with the usual big smile on his face. "Oh no Luffy, could you ask Sanji? I'm hanging out with Chopper today.." Bad Idea, you never refused to cook him meat even if you were busy. He knew you enough to just refuse to cook meat for him. The way he frowned as you waved him and went into the dock with Chopper.

Later that night, when everyone was asleep, you felt someone tugging your clothes. "Pst, (Name)." It was Luffy.

"Eh? Luffy? Why are you awake at a time like this.." you groggily whispered. "Just come here" You spproach his area and he pulled you with him.

"Finally some peace between us" He gave you a big grin and placed his hand on your back. "It's been a while you know— you've always been with Chopper."

"Luffy, wh— are you jealous of Chopper?" You came with a conclusion that maybe, just maybe he got jealous of your constant hanging out eith Chopper.

"Hmm...is that how you name it, (Name)? If so then yes!" You plopped your hands on his chest and gave him a giggle. "You could've said so earlier, i would've spent more time with you, Lu"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙺𝚒𝚍𝚍

It was 100% your idea, you had convinced Eustass to bring company of an animal into the Victoria Punk. Not only because you had no one to talk to other than Killer or Kidd himself, but simply because it was boring out in the ship.

Lucky for you, Kidd agreed to get you one of your choice, in exchange of...things. So you decided to get a Cat of your choice, simply after declaring it's recruitment into the Kidd Pirates. You gave every ounce of your attention to it, even if it means opening the door of the bathroom when you take a shower just incase the furball could come inside and pet itself across your legs.

Well that only happened twice, what DID happen was Eustass peeking at you while taking a shower, which happened about 90% of the time. You didn't mind though.

Back to our fur friend, it bothered the cleaners of the ship on how they'd find furry hair on every furniture they clean. Kidd even complained that your shared bed was full of cat fur and that it was sticking onto his skin! But you couldn't careless.

Everytime you had a chance to sit, the cat eould latch itself into your lap, preventing you from standing up and doing business. Because standing would mean disrespectful!

Now we have an angry Eustass, whenever he wants you to be around him your excuse would always be 'But theyre on my lap' and 'im playing with them give me a while' He was getting fed up with both you and the cat itself.

So you're at the comfort place in the ship, with Kidd having a staring contest with the animal on your lap, whilst you read a book a chill. Then suddenly he spoke up, "Okay that's enough." He stood up, took the cat and placed it outside the room.

"Why'd you do that for?!"

"Oh please, you have all your attention on that animal since it stepped foot into the ship, give it a break." He scoffed.

"Or you're just jealous because i give it more attention than you?" Oh, NOW you're dead. "JEALOUS?? Why would i be jealous over a stupid furry?!" He was. He was 100% jealous.

"Okay first of all, it's not a stupid furry! And second of all, you seem pretty defensive, if you're jealous just say it."

"WHAT?! No im n—"

"—Which, you definitely are, come here you big baby. I'll give you the attention you deserve." You cutted him off, now you're gonna be in big trouble.

"And i expect the attention to be filled, get on the bed fucker." It would definitely be a longggg night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷𝙰𝚌𝚎

He IS the one who suggested to get a furry friend. He'd definitely be the type to adopt a puppy, and then proceed to name it one of the most basic names ever. You could see the disappointment in Marco's face when he found out he named the precious puppy 'Oreo' because it's fur was Black AND White.

He had gotten you the precious puppy as a gift for your birthday as he found out you're into having pets, and your reason? They were CUTE as hell. He had gotten you a puppy who's fur is at the brownish side.

"Hmm, what should we name him?!" "OH! OH! I know! Brownie!"..."Are you being serious, Ace?" You looked at him, praying that the name he suggested was only for sarcasm, but you were taken aback from his response. "What do you mean babe? Of course i am! It's such a perfect name for him!"

"It's... one of the most basic names I've ever heard. " You spared him a straight face, sending shivers down his spine. "Okay, okay I'll think of another name! Hm..how about Cookie?" Yeah he doesn't have naming privileges anymore.

In the end you both sticked into the name you had chosen for the puppy. Everything was going great for the first week, you buying him all the stuff he needed, the most high qualited dog food, and even his own supplies had beaten yours! With an average of spending atleast thoudands of Berries a week.

The second week hadn't been different at all, except for the fact that now that the puppy was growing, it became even more plsyful towards you. Meaning you, had soent almost all your time with it. On the other hand, your boyfriend Ace, ended up getting bitten at the hand for trying to take away it's toy that you gave.

"Babe! Do you see those eyes that's looking at me right now?! It looks like it's gonna KILL me!" Ace climbed up on a chair when he entered the house unannounced and the dog had decided to chase him for dear life.

"Come one Bae, he won't hurt you like at all! He's an angel!" You petted the dog, causing him to sit. "Yeah if it was opposite day I would've believed you! look at him, it looks like it's gonna bite my limbs of one by one!"

"Come on Ace! He won't bite you!" As soon as you reassured Ace thst nothing eould happen if he stepped down, he tried lowering his left foot down, causing the dog the fully bark at him. "SEE?!" Ace's voice was almost crying.

"Bad dog! You know he's the one who brought you to me right?! He's basically your dad! Go to your bed!" The dog whimpers then climbs it's bed.

"You know, after this i expect a full week of attention all mine! Okay?!" Ace pouts and settles himself down from the chair. You gave him a reassuring kiss, "I promise,"

©Cokou 2024, all works made by me.

[aesopsharpmybeloved]

The Massage

When Aesop Sharp returns home to find his fiancée in bed with aching muscles from a long day of work, he's quick to offer his help. However, the situation takes a much more intimate turn, leaving both of them enjoying far more than just a little relief.

Big thanks to my dear friends @tea-withjamandbread and @dzajna for bearing with me while I wrote this beast, and providing their feedback and advice ❤️

18+ GO AWAY CHILDREN

[FULL NSFW PICTURE]

The Massage (9.8k)

tw: age difference (reader is an adult and has been for quite some time now), explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, oral sex, might be cheesy

Aesop Sharp sighed with relief as he pulled off his coat and blazer, depositing both on the hanger by the door before freeing his feet and calves from the heavy leather boots, replacing them with the soft slippers he wore in the house. 

He knew his beloved was home, since the messenger bag she carried to work lay upon the bench in the cloakroom, but he currently couldn't hear a sound which would hint as to where she was. Perhaps she was out in the garden, he thought, she did like to rest there for a bit when she came home. Before beginning his search for his young fiancée, Aesop headed off into the ground floor bathroom in order to wash his hands and refresh himself a little.

Once there, he cast a quick cleaning charm on his clothes, swiftly ridding them of any traces of sweat or remains of any fumes from the potions brewed during his classes today that might've lingered. He splashed cool water on his face and let it air-dry. A few droplets still cooled him where they clung to his beard as he ran his fingers through his hair. Once he deemed himself presentable enough, he exited the bathroom and made his way through the dining room into the winter garden, and then out into the garden after putting on his outside shoes once more.

It was quite a nice afternoon, the air cool and crisp. The earth smelled of rain, the last remains of winter fading away and making way for spring to come. The sky was rather grey and sunless, but Aesop's mood was not at all soured by that. No, he instead inhaled more of the earthy scent, letting his eyes glide over the sizable garden. It looked quite different than it had when he still lived here by himself. There were more flowers in the flowerbeds, a little fire pit was added for the two of them to warm up on cool evenings spent outside, and a small shed was built to house his beloved’s owl. 

Aesop made his way around the house, only to discover his wife-to-be was nowhere to be seen. He went back inside, mindful not to make a mess with his damp and slightly muddy shoes. It wasn't too cold outside, but he nevertheless shivered a bit when the warmth of the dining room enveloped him once more.

"(F/N)? Are you home, love?" He called out softly, off-handedly making the kettle float from its place on the stove to the tap, filling itself up with water before going back to its original place, so that they could share a cup of tea once he found her.

"Here," came muffled from above him. The professor smiled and unhurriedly made his way upstairs, ascending the steps with an easy step. He had to admit he felt quite appreciative of the work he and his beloved did in the house since she officially moved in with him. The house was never once uncomfortable, of course, but following the lack of fairer sex in the home, not to mention the depression that settled over him after Ashley's death, the house grew a little... empty. Most of the original furniture from when he was a child remained there, but without loving care, the paint faded and chipped, the wood surfaces lost their shine, and some articles of furniture grew desperately outdated. 

When he still lived by himself and mostly just for himself, Aesop hardly cared. The few visits he had, mainly just from his mother, Dinah and Abraham, never once commented on the state of his home, and he was quite happy about it. However, when the young woman he couldn't wait to marry came to live with him, it was like he saw just how metaphorically grey the home had become. It didn't go well with the radiance of his sweetheart, of their love, and maybe of Aesop himself these days. 

So they made the acceptable investment of one shilling for a large muggle catalogue of furniture and got to work. Aesop had smiled to himself then - maybe he'd tell Matilda of this endeavour of theirs. After all, a lot of transfiguration had been involved. Maybe she could make a similar exercise for her students - this was definitely more useful than turning a porcupine into a pincushion, at least in his opinion. Not that he'd tell her that... It took more than a week, mostly because they both had full time occupations after all, and when he and (F/N) were finally done, they were more than a little glad the next day was a Sunday, their magical cores feeling drained. However, it really felt worth it. 

The house was once more perfectly warm and cosy, just like it was when Aesop had been a small boy, and then later when he and Dinah lived together. It once more held that comforting scent he could never quite put his finger on, and he felt the wear and tear of his teaching job melt away into comfort. The colours of fabrics, be it the sofas and armchairs, rugs, or perhaps some tapestry, were vibrant and warm, the wood of the tables, bookcases, and the wardrobes in the hallway once more shone and glistened with novelty. The rooms which were empty for long years, including Aesop's own childhood bedroom, became comfortable looking guest rooms for the time being. At least so until Aesop and (F/N) fully joined their hands in holy matrimony and embraced the idea of procreation. Aesop never once stopped feeling at home in the large house, but the way things were now, he felt genuinely happy every time he stepped over the threshold.

Finally, Aesop opened the door to his and (F/N)'s bedroom - it had more Ravenclaw colours than he'd personally seek out normally, but the end result certainly made for a very comfortable space. His beloved certainly seemed to think so, given she was lying on the spacious bed on her stomach, her arms idly by her sides and her face buried into the pillow. Aesop grinned, as he looked around. He could see the woman's outer, slightly dirt-stained clothing hanging from one of the chairs in the room. 

He chuckled to himself and slowly walked to her side of the bed. Noiselessly, he kneeled on the floor, his face close to her head. Feeling his presence, his fiancée's head finally turned, and a pair of large tired eyes met his own. 

"Hello," she murmured hoarsely, but nevertheless offered her lips to him. Aesop didn't waste a single second, he chased her mouth in a long, sweet kiss, his right hand gently stroking the woman's back and waist. 

"How was your day, my sweet?" Aesop asked, though he could very much see her day had been difficult and strenuous. She merely groaned in return, and stayed silent for a few minutes, during which Aesop continued to stroke her back and shoulders gently. "Well," she spoke finally, "if you ever feel like trying to subdue a frightened unicorn stallion without using a light stupefy at first, I can tell you it's not a good idea... I took some Skele-Gro and Wiggenweld, of course, so I can proudly say my arm and my ribs are, once more, fully intact, but my muscles are still killing me..."

A small click left the professor's lips, his concern for his sweetheart's well being obvious. Nevertheless, he didn't say anything for several moments. But then: "Do you think you could lift your arms for me, my dear? I want to try and help you..." She observed him with a curious expression, but did as she was told, seemingly with great difficulty. 

Aesop's large warm hands slipped under the hem of her blouse and pulled her chemise out of her drawers. He then carefully slid the soft materials up her body, over her head, and off her arms. He took in the sight she made momentarily - her hair was spread around her head like a halo, and her soft breasts were squished against the mattress in a rather lovely fashion. However, he shook his head then - now was the time to make his sweetheart feel better. His hand once more glided over the pale expanse of her back before it retracted and the professor made way to his side of the bed. After safely placing his wand upon his bedside table, he reached into one of the drawers and pulled out a small glass jar containing dark pink ointment. 

He rolled up his shirt sleeves, and, without further ado, climbed atop the bed, and then carefully straddled his sweetheart's body, until he was partially sitting on her pert bottom. She huffed a little when she felt the extra weight on her bum, though it was not so much a huff of pain or discomfort, as it was one of confusion. "What are you up to, Ace?" she questioned, struggling to turn her head further to be able to look at him. Aesop only smiled: "Just wait. I promise it'll feel nice."

He took the cork out of the jar, and reached two fingers inside. It was one of his experimental brews, back when he was still looking for a cure for his leg. This particular ointment made muscles loosen up, and gave off a very pleasant warmth when rubbed into the skin. Which is exactly what Aesop did, once he deemed the amount of ointment on his fingers acceptable. 

It was cool upon the young woman's skin at first, and she hissed at the feeling. However, less than a minute later, she was pretty much melting under Aesop's strong and steady hands. The professor himself was very careful in his application of the ointment at first, but grew a little firmer once he felt the kinks in his fiancée's back begin to loosen up. Soon he was fully massaging her slight shoulders and back, and thirstily drank in the sweet sounds that left her lips, as well as the flush that coloured her cheeks. 

His movements caused his whole body to rock against her slowly, but he barely paid any mind to the pleasant friction of the soft flesh of her behind against his stiffening shaft. That is, until he felt the young woman purposefully roll her hips in a way that made the sensations way more pronounced. Aesop stilled in his movements, his breathing considerably heavier than it had been a few minutes ago.

"Sweetheart," he said gently, "as much as I’d like to, the last thing I want to do is hurt you more than you're already hurting..." The young woman groaned softly and further wiggled her bottom to the best of her abilities, given the fact Aesop was still partially sitting upon it. "It does not hurt that bad anymore..." she tried to protest, "besides, we can go really slow..."

Aesop couldn't hold back a small chuckle as he stared at his fiancée’s back in awe.

He lowered his upper body until his mouth was right next to her ear, his hands bracing his weight on each side of her head: "Really slow, hm?" he purred, making her shiver slightly. He rocked his hips against her a few times, slowly and passionately. 

"This slow?" he asked, his voice growing lower. (F/N) didn't answer. Aesop then raised himself somewhat, and when he was positive he wouldn't lose his balance and collapse directly onto her, his hands left their previous position and closed around her hips instead, pulling them up from the bed. His own then ground into her, hard and excruciatingly slow, making the woman hyper aware that he was rock hard now: "or even slower, like so?"

She groaned again, her hands that were previously just lying idly by her sides now gripping at the sheets in obvious need. "A-Ace, please... Please, stop teasing, I really want this. I want you... And besides, you know nothing makes sore muscles relax quite as much as some nice lovemaking..." Once again, the professor snickered, even lower than before, still grinding his clothed erection against her. "You Ravenclaws," he said softly, "finding logic in everything... Very well then. But you'll tell me the moment something hurts too much, alright?"

The young woman strained her head, and actually braced her own hands next to her in order to raise herself up slightly and look at him better. She indeed seemed much less miserable than she did when he originally walked in, and instead now looked like a woman starved. 

Oh, how could he ever resist her? Without another word, Aesop once more lowered himself, but this time to connect their mouths in a hot, passionate kiss. 

One of his hands gently wrapped around her throat, neither pushing nor squeezing, simply holding her there, enjoying the feeling of her quickened heartbeat below his fingertips as well as the knowledge of how entirely she trusted him. His hips kept rutting against her more rhythmically now, and it made him release small short hums of desire into their kiss, his tongue cheekily prodding and teasing at her own, only to dart back so that he could gently nip at her lower lip. 

Her own hand stopped pawing at the now rather ruffled sheets around her, and instead moved down to stroke his knee, which was about the only part of him she could reach without too much discomfort. Well, that just wouldn’t do, Aesop decided. But still, he gently ended the kiss, and motioned for his beloved to lower herself down again. Once she did, he covered her body with his own, his chest flush against her warm back, and his lips bestowing butterfly kisses against the nape of her neck and all the way to her ear. 

“Are you completely certain?” he asked once more, but the grin that appeared on her face revealed her mind was quite made up. “Unless you plan to literally bend me in half, or restrain me into some extra ridiculous position, it is my firm belief that I’ll be just fine,” she replied, looking at him through her eyelashes, “but even if you do, I will survive. I took a day off tomorrow - well, not accurate - Ellie made me take the day off. She said I either stay home, or I’d be cleaning undersides of Flobberworms tomorrow, because she’s not letting me get trampled over twice in two days.” 

“Hm, remind me to send her flowers,” Aesop murmured, only just resisting the urge to ask whether his fiancée ever thought about a different occupation. It was a silly thought, of course. She loved her job and was completely brilliant at it, and the last thing Aesop wanted was to limit her in any way, but any man who loved his woman half like Aesop loved (F/N) would have very much preferred knowing his beloved was safe. 

He shook his head. Though there have been, and will undoubtedly be scuffs and scratches, and bruises and pulled muscles, (F/N) was a tough woman. Not two armoured mountain trolls and countless goblins attacking at once were able to put her down when she was just a student, and he doubted one stupid horned horse could do the job now that she was a bit older and much more experienced. 

“Aesop,” she said with a small hint of impatience, but mostly a healthy dose of teasing, “should I feel offended you’ve still got enough blood in your brain to think despite me trying to do my best here to make it all go someplace entirely else?”

Aesop’s quiet laughter rang through the room. His arms pushed until they were tightly nestled under and around her waist, and his face nuzzled into the crook of her neck, breathing in her scent. She too released a little giggle, with Aesop unsure whether it was because of the combined sensation of the small scratch of his beard and the tickle of his hair on her soft skin, or just him showering her with his affections like this.

When she wiggled her bum again, Aesop was reminded of his desire, and found he had not wilted in the slightest during his brief moment of thinking. Carefully, he rolled to the side, ridding her of his weight on her back. No sooner than he’d done so did he move to turn her to face him, and their lips connected in another heated kiss. Thin fingers slipped into his hair, and one of her long legs found its rightful place over his hip. The warm skin of her bare upper body pressed against his own chest, and he was hyper aware of her softness and the gentle curves of her bosom despite the offensive fabric of his own garment separating them still.

As if on cue his fiancée pulled back slightly, her nose still gently bumping into his own. “Like always,” she whispered, and Aesop hungrily drank in the hotness of her breath, “you are wearing way too many clothes, Ace.”

The professor was very nearly ready to grab his wand from the nightstand and wave it in the air to immediately rid them of the remainder of their clothes, but at the same time didn’t for the world want this ever increasing thrum of arousal and anticipation to end. 

The act of lovemaking itself was always lovely; both of them always went above and beyond to ensure their partner reached their peak in the most pleasurable way possible. However, Aesop knew they were also united in their enjoyment of foreplay, in the intimacy of once more, like so many times before, succumbing to one another’s embrace, to their most natural form, the sweetness of the other’s lips, and then finally the joy of their bodies uniting into one.

And so, quite unhurriedly, he looked deep into his beloved's eyes and pulled at his tie until it slipped from its knot and came loosely off. The single look was entirely enough to get her to understand, and she too wasn’t entirely urgent when her fingers left his hair in order to pluck his waistcoat buttons free from their holes. 

Still, their clothes soon littered the floor of their bedroom, and the two of them were left in just their drawers. A low moan was released against the young woman’s tongue as her slight hand closed around the stiff member that was tenting Aesop’s underwear, and she gave him a few gentle strokes through the thin fabric. Her mouth watered at the feel of him, the organ hot and heavy in her hand and throbbing under her attention.

However, after she pulled a few more pleasurable sighs out of him, Aesop decided that two could play that game. 

And so he let his mouth slide down slowly, kissing and biting at her neck, her pulse point and collarbones, soothing each of the harder nips with gentle licks of his tongue, his hand kneading the flesh of her pert buttocks appreciatively. And then, finally, when his lips reached her left nipple, his hand dipped in below the hem of her drawers, squeezed the soft bum, then made its way to the other side, long fingers sneaking their way towards her damp nether lips.

His beloved sighed, her head dropping to the pillow, and her hand momentarily ceasing its sweet torment of him at the sensation of the work-hardened tips of Aesop’s fingers dragging over her swelling lovebud and seam.

Quite soon however, she recovered enough to copy him. Aesop gasped lightly against the pink areola of her breast when he felt the gentle scratch of her nails drag from his belly button down through the dark hair of his happy trail, her hand soon also plunging into the tight confines of his cotton breeches to begin touching him fully.

The couple gently and unhurriedly fondled one another as much as their current position would allow them, with Aesop worrying at his fiancée’s nipples using his mouth while her free hand tugged at his hair, sending gooseflesh down his neck and back, and little electric sparks into his groin, which continued thrumming under her delicious caresses. He grinned when a particularly mean bite resulted in her hand in his hair tightening to the point of light pain, and she motioned for him to move up again. The professor did so without a word, immediately chasing her mouth in another kiss, less coordinated than the previous ones.

A smug smile spread on his face when they pulled away for breath. How he adored working her up like this - his beloved always seemed to have this detached sort of elegance about her, even after she just sent some wayward group of ruffians packing, twigs in her hair from leaping across the ground and dirt staining her cheeks. There was absolutely nothing detached about her now... Holding her gaze, he pulled his hand free from her drawers and brought it to his lips. His fingers glistened with her arousal visibly, and the professor made a show of slowly pushing each of them into his mouth to suck on them, closing his eyes and humming at her taste like she was a fine meal.

Suddenly, his teeth flashed as an idea popped to his head. The young woman gasped when she was suddenly pushed on her back and pulled lower on the bed, until Aesop was able to move to kneel behind her. His strong hands moved to once more stroke and squeeze at her soft breasts while he looked upside down on her face, his knees on each side of her head. 

“This alright?” he asked quietly, his fingertips teasing at her ribs. She needn’t ask what he had in mind exactly, knowing all too well where a position like this might go. She felt herself dampen further with anticipation. Her hands reached up, and Aesop took them in his, shuffling down a bit to be able to kiss her once more before he began his descent down her body.

This time, he only spent a short while teasing her breasts and teats with his mouth before moving lower, his tongue gliding around the pale skin of her stomach and circling her belly button. Finally he reached the hem of her drawers, and his beloved lifted her bottom off the bed a bit, so that he was able to push them down her legs. The soft fabric bunched just past her knees, and the young woman used one of her feet to take them fully off, clearing the path for Aesop and his increasingly hungrier stare.

The teacher braced himself on one hand next to her left hip, and used the free one to spread her legs further, which made his fiancée shiver at the cool air lapping at her heated skin. Bending his head down, Aesop flashed one more grin at the young woman, before he finally lowered down to bury his head between her milky thighs.

A small groan was forced out of (F/N)’s mouth when his mouth immediately found her swollen clitoris and began sucking at it fervently, his strong arms curling around her limbs to hold them perfectly in place. The very view of him from this angle was maddeningly erotic, and when she turned her head up, she found she was perfectly level with the tent in his pants. There was already a damp little spot forming where his tip was, and the young woman decided that she made him wait long enough.

The large erection bumped her nose as it sprung out from the cottony confines upon her pushing the hem down, and her mouth watered further at his heady musky scent. She turned her head further, until his dark pink glans brushed against her lips, prompting the professor to release a harsh breath against her folds. The young woman giggled even as another wave of arousal rolled through her, and proceeded to toy with the tip using her mouth, suckling on it and rolling it around, prompting more lovely reactions from the professor.

Teasing little licks soon turned into proper pleasure when Aesop began using one of his hands to gently finger his beloved, while still worrying at her lovebud deliciously. The young woman in turn opened her mouth and carefully covered her teeth with her lips before accepting his hard cock inside, slowly bobbing her head up and down and taking him further with each move. Her fingers kneaded and teased at his heavy testicles, occasionally prodding at that one spot behind them that she knew made him see stars when she pressed down on it.

The increased stimuli sent small shivers through the teacher’s strong frame, and he unknowingly began thrusting his hips, shallowly at first, but then increasing in intensity, just like his mouth and hand did on his fiancée’s need. Their groans and gasps were muffled by the other’s skin, free hands were grasping at whichever part they could reach, hips, thighs, bottoms, fingertips leaving little red spots in their wake. The flank of (F/N)’s leg bore the perfect imprint of the potions master’s palm, while the woman herself took a small break from swallowing around the thick prick in her mouth in order to deliver a sharp bite at Aesop’s inner thigh. His strangled ‘Oh, fuck’ spoken against her drenched core was music to her ears.

Aesop adored being marked by her in the throes of passion, be it a bite on his neck, a couple of bruises on his hips where her toned legs squeezed him, or the sweet sting on his back where her fingernails dug into it. 

His tongue thrusted into her opening along with his fingers, while his thumb now rhythmically rubbed nonsensical patterns against her little pink pearl. Aesop felt his release approaching rapidly under her incredibly intoxicating touch, but refused to let himself succumb to the sweet pull of no doubt brilliant orgasm before she tumbled down that ravine herself. And so, using the very few bits of self control he had left, he lifted his hips up and his member out of her brilliant mouth.

Now, the young woman tried to protest at first, her arms wrapping around his hips in an attempt to pull him back, but a small strategic bite at her folds coupled with a prod of his fingers to the little bundle of nerves deep within her made her arms lose their strength, and her back to arch against the mattress. He sped up his ministrations further, moaning quietly at the feeling of her climax approaching and at the sounds that now poured out of her mouth freely. He couldn’t see her currently, but he imagined her hands fisting the sheets below and her face twisting in pleasure.

Finally, with a cry she came undone underneath him, Aesop hungrily lapping up everything that she could give him. As she writhed with the sensations, one of her hands made its way to his hair, and she closed it around a few strands, not exactly pulling, but rather just hanging on while her orgasm shook through her. Aesop slowly rose when a little whine told him she needed a break from his continuous worship, and he wasted no time, kneeling back on the bed and pulling her somewhat into his hold until he was able to close his arms around her waist. He bent his head to kiss a trail from her neck to her jaw, and then finally to her lips. 

He couldn't help but smile at the image of her red face, the sweat running down her forehead, and the blissed out expression when he pulled back from the positively filthy kiss.

“I hope that was to your liking?” he asked cheekily, his forefinger taking to drawing little patterns over her front, connecting the various freckles and moles on her chest and stomach. (F/N) snorted unabashedly, her breathing still laboured. “As you can clearly see, I hated it,” she quipped right back, her own hand coming to lay hotly on his thigh. She turned her head a little in a clear invitation for him to kiss her again, and Aesop didn't have to be asked twice.

After a few more minutes of exchanging languid kisses, she separated their mouths and whispered: “Although I am cross with you - while you made me finish, you didn’t let me finish.” 

She looked awfully proud at the choice of her words, but Aesop merely chuckled: “And would you like me to let you finish, or shall I take you and we can make each other finish together?” An adorable pout of mock consideration appeared on her face and her eyes closed as she still rode on the gentle waves of afterglow. 

Finally, her eyes sought out his own: “I say - why not both? Like I said, I’ve got a free day tomorrow. And, if I’m not wrong, your first class is at eleven o’clock, so that gives us plenty of time to have a little rest before you can go again, after that a nice bath, a bite to eat, and plenty of sleep still.” 

Aesop shook his head slightly as another chuckle rolled through him. Still, he reached to gently caress her heated cheek, looking down at her with endless affection: “And you tell me I’m incorrigible, you little minx.” His beloved returned his smile: “Oh, you are. But I never claimed not to be incorrigible myself, did I?”

Aesop’s eyes shone with happiness and love as he watched the face he grew to adore so much, her cheeks still flushed and a few strands of her hair sticking to her forehead. The professor used his finger to push them to the side. The young woman used her hands to brace herself somewhat, and turned to steal another kiss. Truth be told, the angle was a bit awkward, but she was determined to make it work. 

Aesop suddenly groaned into their kiss, his hand closing tighter where it was squeezing her hip, and he gave a shaky breath. 

As she turned, his sweetheart once more took hold of his leaking cock, tugging at it rhythmically and driving him to his brink steadily. Knowing what she wanted, Aesop helped move her down on the bed again, his knees spreading wider where he was kneeling, and her head immediately arching back. She was smiling even as she observed him from her upside down angle, and licked her lips when his throbbing shaft appeared inches away from her face.

Aesop was breathing hard as he stroked himself a few times to take the edge off, and watched with a rapturous expression as she accepted him rubbing the glans across her swollen lips after a clear droplet of precum seeped out. 

Without further ado, he used his finger to motion for her to open up, and once she did, he pushed the hard member into her waiting mouth again. A hum from her and a groan from him cut through the silence of the room as she enveloped him in her hot, wet heat, her cheeks hollowing out when she started to suck.

Aesop was mindful at first, his hips moving slowly and shallowly, despite his sweetheart not showing any sort of discomfort with having her mouth and throat plundered by him. Still, even though she became quite… experienced in this act since they were first intimate together, he always started off carefully - not that he ever tried himself, but he imagined having something so large in one’s mouth must be a bit difficult.

However, it would appear the young woman didn’t appreciate his carefulness all that much, for she slowly pulled her mouth off of him. “I won’t break, you know. Neither will I choke or bite your family jewel off.” she said with a challenging little grin. Aesop couldn’t help but smile right back at her. “I know,” he said quietly, “but just… just let me know if it gets too much, alright? Maybe, I don’t know, slap my thigh three times.”

She only rolled her eyes at him with another grin, before positioning herself to take him in her mouth again.

This time both of the potions master’s hands found her cheeks and jaw, and carefully closed around them. With a sharp thrust, his entire length disappeared in her mouth, and a quiet curse left his own. After a few more movements of his hips, he found a rhythm, quite faster than the one before.

He used his hold of her head to keep her in place while he fucked her throat, the the young woman’s little gasps and groans making sweet vibrations go through his shaft, and were soon making him lose himself. He watched with endless fascination as the skin of her throat grew slightly more taut each time he pushed himself deep inside, as little drizzles of drool soon began to leave her lips where they were closed around the thick organ, and how she rubbed her thighs against each other in an attempt to bring herself some friction.

He spread his legs even wider, his breathing hard and laboured, and his hold on her head increasing along with the speed of his movements. 

His eyes closed momentarily as he was getting overwhelmed at the feeling, and nearing ever closer to that sweet release. The suction of her mouth, of the way her tongue lapped at him as best as it could given the position, the jolt of pleasure every time she swallowed around him, his tightening bollocks slapping against her face with every thrust, oh, Aesop knew was going to come hard.

It was quickly becoming too much. The professor’s member was now constantly weeping out in his fiancée’s throat, the coil in his stomach was becoming tighter, burning hot and bright like iron in a forge, his breathing came out in short bursts, and a litany of blissful sounds was leaving his mouth. His brain finally gave out, and he barely noticed his own hands leaving her face. Still, she stayed in her place, her own hands reaching up to grab at his hips, her fingernails digging into the flesh there as she hung on. 

One of the teacher’s hands closed around her breast, kneading it roughly, while the other carefully covered her throat. He could almost feel it where he fucked her, he imagined he could feel his cock stretching her neck, her Adam’s apple bouncing each time she swallowed around him. 

“Hnng, b-bloody hell, (F/N),” Aesop managed to grit out before another groan left his lips, and his eyes rolled back, “Bloody hell, I’m so close. I’m so close, sweetheart…”

His hips began staggering, and the teacher felt the build up of sensation spreading through his entire body. His muscles were tensing up, and his cock was throbbing desperately. The fingers on his hips dug in deeper, the sting of the fingernails doing nothing but pushing him further, further towards that edge. He rutted into her incredible mouth, his own dry and open, sounds of pleasure falling out freely. 

“Oh, Merlin, I’m coming. Oh! Mhm!” Aesop’s eyes rolled back into his head, and he bit his lower lip harshly when the coil in his lower belly snapped, and the pleasure exploded within him. His prick emptied into her throat in long spurts, and soon his body started trembling slightly under the immense gratification. He then sat back quickly and pulled himself out of her mouth, so that the last two ropes of pearly white cum landed on her dark pink lips and spit-damp chin.

Aesop fell down on his arse, nearly collapsing right into the pillows behind him, breathing hard. The young woman before him was in a fairly similar state to him. He heard her swallow a few times, her own breathing quick and laboured. The professor used the last bits of his strength to lie down on the bed next to her. His heart still beat louder and faster than a wardrum, and his hands were still shaking a little.

Turning his head, he saw his sweetheart’s eyes were closed, her face relaxed, and her lips spread into a content smile. The product of his pleasure still clung to her skin, and Aesop found the sight incredibly erotic, his just spent shaft twitching ever so slightly with residue arousal. He turned on his side to face her, and threw one arm and leg over her heated form in as much of an embrace as he was able to execute at the moment.

They spent several minutes like this, bodies slowly calming and cooling down, heartbeats returning to normal, brains regaining control of their higher functions once more. Finally, Aesop summoned a cool wet cloth using his hand, once he actually felt all of his fingers again. He propped his head up on his other hand, and gently got his fiancée’s attention by pressing a small kiss against her cheek. 

Her eyes opened, and the look she fixed him with was enough to make his heart quicken up again. 

He never quite got used to the way she looked at him after they just indulged in the pleasure of each other’s arms, no matter how they went about it. Her gaze was open and sincere, filled with trust, and with so much love and happiness. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to it.

Aesop never truly realised that his own expression was the perfect mirror of hers.

The teacher brought the hand holding the cloth up, and gently dabbed at the drying seed on her lip and chin, prompting her smile to widen further. “I like it when you do that,” she whispered, as if worried she could ruin the atmosphere that settled between them had she spoken any louder. “Do what?” Aesop spoke, just as quietly, a sly little grin on his face “clean up my mess?” 

There was a mischievous sparkle to her eyes. “Actually, I like it when you create it… You’re always such a perfect gentleman, but I know it drives you crazy to mark me like this. Drives me crazy too, when you lose control like that…” she admitted to him, her smile still present.

“Well,” the professor chuckled, tossing the cloth away after his young sweetheart’s face was, save for some perspiration, once again pristine, “I can hardly deny it, can I…” He chased her lips in a kiss, finally embracing her fully, carefully climbing to lie atop her again. His hand caressed her cheek, and Aesop checked her gaze for any sort of discomfort. He was relieved to find none.

“Aren’t you tired?” he asked still, “Are you sure you’ll be alright for a second round?” Her pearly white teeth flashed in the afternoon light of their bedroom, and her eyes once again took on that slightly mischievous look: “Oh, I’ll be up for round two the moment you are up for it.” 

Aesop chuckled at her words, his hands moving down to teasingly squeeze at her waist, their bodies flush against each other. He happily settled where he was, his face buried into the crook of her neck, her hands gently brushing through his hair and separating the tangles that formed there during their activity. “Mhmm…” he murmured, his voice low. He again reminded the young woman of a severely overgrown purring cat, “give me a while. Don’t forget I’m no spring chicken.” His words were met with another chuckle, and one of the hands slipped away from his hair to stroke his cheek instead.

“You know,” she said airily, an amused expression in her twinkling eyes, “for you being, by your own words, ‘no spring chicken’, you’ve got enough stamina for at least two or three spring chickens…” Aesop wasn’t able to hold back a snort at her words, and squeezed her again. Slowly, he raised himself up to be able to look at her, once more propping his head on his hand.

He might not ever get fully used to seeing that look of hers, but he got so very used to everything else. To their closeness, both physical and emotional, to their tender banter, their own little inside jokes. And to the two of them seeing the other completely utterly dishevelled like they were now, naked and sweaty with messy hair, and it feeling so natural, so familiar and comfortable. And yet he couldn’t stop being so fascinated, so absolutely taken with the sight of her every day.

He shook his head with a smile.

“You know, we Aurors have something of a… reputation in this regard,” he offered, still grinning. That prompted a curious gleam to her eyes, even though they were currently softened by tenderness. “Oh? And it applies to the former Aurors as well?” Aesop’s other hand gently slid down her body, caressing her wherever he could reach. “If they keep themselves in shape, surely. And I’d been staying in shape for a while now… However, some Aurors tend to get a little… sloppy…” The young woman sucked in a breath when his hand squeezed between their bodies, his fingers teasing at her inner thigh, “wild… Which can be pleasant, certainly… However,” he continued, his fingers getting closer to their prize, “I hear that when combined with precision… the sort of precision potioneers, for example, have…”

Her eyes fluttered when he reached her core, once more dampening under his skillful touch, “I hear it can get even better…”

And with that, his mouth latched onto hers in another searing kiss.

His hand began to move at the same pace as his mouth and tongue, slow but intense, rekindling in her the fire he already made explode once today while his own body recovered. 

Indeed, his precision and attention to detail was something the young woman appreciated deeply. He knew exactly how to touch her when he wanted her to come apart in his hands within mere minutes, thighs shaking and lungs sore from moans. Or he could slowly break her apart, piece by piece, coaxing little whimpers out of her while her fingernails broke the skin of his back. He could edge her until she begged him to let her come, and he could make those silky soft walls flutter and contract around him near continuously, the poor girl struggling to stay conscious once he was finally done with her.

As he very gently fondled her lovebud and opening, his mouth moving to her neck instead, the professor considered how he should bring his fiancée to the breaking point tonight. Finally, he decided that, seeing as he didn’t want to add to her soreness, and that they still had a few things to do before they ultimately retired to the sheets to sleep, he would go easier on her today. Not that going easier ever meant worse, of course. 

And so, Aesop carefully moved down to once again lie beside her, and then helped her turn so that her back was flush with his chest. Slowly the couple fitted against each other until they were comfortable and Aesop had access to tease his beloved some more before he could fully take her. His other arm became her makeshift pillow, and the girl wasted no time, turning her head to seek his lips. 

Several ardent kisses and hot sighs against his mouth later, as Aesop’s fingers explored her plush depths as if it were their first time again, he felt his shaft stir and slowly begin to fill up once more. The heady feeling of desire seeped into his core again, and made him too release a shaky breath against his beloved’s swollen lips. He savoured the feeling of her hand once more messing up his hair, quite addicted to the sensation. As their kiss drew to a close, Aesop instead dragged his nose against her cheeks and jaw, and her fingers disentangled from his hair, her palm going to stroke a line over his waist and hip, and even strayed to caress his buttock, a little smile appearing on (F/N)’s face.

“Stamina and precision, indeed,” she teased, opening her eyes momentarily to look at him. Aesop replied by curling his fingers within her and prodding at the bundle of nerves deep inside, making her throw her head back against his shoulder. A low chuckle left the professor’s lips, and he ground his hips against hers, his stiffening prick bumping against her bum. “When there’s a good motivation,” he purred into her ear, then started nibbling on the sensitive skin below, spreading his fingers inside her in preparation. It wasn’t as needed these days, but Aesop still preferred to take his time rather than risk accidentally hurting her.

When she once more threw her head back and moaned loudly, Aesop chuckled further, and finally pulled his fingers away and licked them clean. He then noiselessly positioned himself at her entrance, and sought out her gaze. The professor looked deep into his beloved’s eyes as he took hold of her hand, bringing it close to his face. “The best motivation there is,” he whispered.

The ring, that once belonged to his grandmother, sparkled and shone on (F/N)’s elegant hand, the physical proof that she gave him her yes. Still looking into her eyes, Aesop slowly brought her hand even closer, until he was able to press a kiss against her ring finger, right above the ring itself. His hips snapped forward, and he filled the young woman to the brim in a single deep thrust, forcing their shared gaze to separate as their eyes fluttered.

He remained unmoving for several seconds, enjoying the feeling of being once more completely sheathed within her, the warm depths enveloping him perfectly. His fiancée breathed slowly, adjusting to his length inside. Aesop's head leaned forward again, and he hid his face into the crook of her neck, her hand still clasped tightly in his. He rocked his hips shallowly several times, looking for an angle that brought the most pleasure to both of them while the young woman hummed happily, her own head coming to rest upon his arm.

They set a slow, unhurried rhythm at first, (F/N) answering Aesop's slow deep thrusts by rolling her hips in time. His mouth began administering small kisses and gentle bites to the warm skin of her neck, his own cheeks feeling hot as he made love to his beloved.

He had to put some effort into raising himself up when her arm curled around his shoulders and neck, but he managed. Their eyes connected once more, and Aesop was again absolutely in awe of her.

She truly looked ethereally beautiful like this, hair messy and face hot, eyes dilated and so sincere. And while months separated them from their wedding, from the day when they would unite officially, bind themselves to one another, as Aesop's gaze melted into her own, he once more realised something he had known for a few years now.

She was his. And he was hers.

“Kiss me,” she whispered, and how could the professor ever refuse her.

His mouth moulded against her own, sweetly, ardently. (F/N) hungrily drank from his lips, tongue lapping at their seam and seeking out his own tongue to engage it in a sensual dance, one into which Aesop readily gave in. His hips snapped suddenly, prompting a gasp from his sweetheart, one that let him take control of their kiss, and he began plundering her mouth in earnest, the rhythm of his hips increasing in speed.

After a while, neither were able to keep up with the kiss much, their breaths becoming shorter and more laboured, their heartbeats growing swifter, their mouths moving against the other’s with little coordination. Aesop shifted, letting go of her hand in order to take hold of her leg, moving it a little forward for easier access, wanting to penetrate her even deeper. His fingers then closed around her hip, and he used the leverage to deliver harder, more intense thrusts. Soon, he was rewarded for his efforts when the young woman went taut against him again, a choked gasp on her kiss-swollen lips, her breath hot on Aesop’s own.

She too moved, removing her arm from around his shoulders and twisting her upper body so that she was lying on her back a bit more and didn’t have to turn her head quite as much to be able to face him. Aesop seized the opportunity to administer another messy kiss to her mouth, while the arm below her head bent at the elbow and his hand closed around her breast again, gently squeezing the soft flesh.

“Oh, Aesop…” she whined breathlessly when he ended the kiss only to lick a long stripe starting at her neck, going over her chin, only for his tongue to shortly plunge back into her mouth in a display of pure, intoxicating decadence. 

Soon the room filled with the sounds of their fervent lovemaking, soft sighs and gasps turning into short moans, their bodies, damp from their efforts, sliding against each other sweetly and with practised ease. Aesop’s mouth began to worry at her jaw and neck, and moved even lower. His own groans of bliss were muffled by her soft skin, the vibrations seemingly travelling directly to her core and making her fall apart in his strong arms. 

After a particularly hard thrust in that one perfect angle, one that made her entire body give a shudder, the young woman felt the burning coil of an upcoming release materialise in her core out of nowhere, her head falling back onto the pillows and Aesop’s bicep. The potions master, who had been nibbling on her collarbone, planting small marks and bruises along its length, chuckled, which prompted another wave of pleasurable vibrations to run through her, setting her nerve endings ablaze and pushing her further toward that edge.

He could feel her peak approaching, her breathing becoming uneven, her thighs beginning to tremble as he continued moving at the same angle as before. He wasn’t far behind by any means, but felt confident that he’d be able to hold off until he brought her her pleasure. That is, until she cried out for him and squeezed him within her in a vice grip following a particularly hard bite to her neck and a pinch of his fingers to her teat: “Ace! Aesop, p-please, don’t s-stop!” Her walls were quivering around his leaking prick, her hands grabbing for whichever part of him they could reach. Her sounds were pushing to his own climax much faster than he’d anticipated. He rose a bit, a sense of urgency in his voice as he whispered hotly into her ear.

“I-I’m almost there, sweetheart… Come on, c-come for me, love. ”

“Aesop-!”

Her back arched and her toes curled as the coil within her snapped, as if a bolt of lighting suddenly struck her. Aesop groaned at the feeling of her walls closing so, so bloody tight around him. Her body was quivering under the pleasure he brought her, her chest rose and fell hurriedly as she sucked in mouthfuls of air, and she was so amazingly overwhelmed by the sensations.

He let her ride out her orgasm, his rhythm becoming slow and deep, rutting against that bundle of nerves deep inside her as she still convulsed and contracted around him, her head thrown back. Only when her bliss began to ever so slightly subside did he wrap his arms around her waist, holding her firmly in place, and sped up his movements once more. He truly was not far behind her, he could feel his bollocks drawing up, and the pressure in his lower belly increasing with every move. His mouth was inches away from her ear, so she heard every single sound that fell from his lips as he pounded away into her, the muscles in his legs straining and his cock becoming nearly painfully hard as he chased his own climax.

“Mhmm, f-fuck-” he groaned 

He was certain he was squeezing her too tight now, but she didn’t show a single sign of discomfort, her head still lolling on the mattress, sweet little whines pouring out of her mouth, her velvety depths still pulsating around him, beckoning him to join her in her pleasure. 

Oh, he would.

He tried to hold it, at least for a few seconds, edging himself, but then one, two, three hard thrusts, and he pretty much exploded. 

Aesop moaned, his eyes rolling back into his skull, and his arms squeezing the poor girl even tighter, as his cock spilled inside her in several bursts, his hotness flooding her plush depths completely. His hips kept rocking into hers, as if on their own accord while the professor lost himself in the gratification, his body and head suddenly feeling so heavy, so comfortably tired. 

Finally his movements drew to a close, his head dropped and he remained where he was, breathing hard, completely high on the endorphins flooding his brain.

A long, content sigh was released somewhere next to his head, and a soft hand caressed his cheek. His head was resting partly on her chest, partly on her neck, his arms were still enveloping her tightly, his softening shaft was still nestled inside her. Aesop would’ve gladly stayed just like this, but as his head cleared of the hot, heady fog of lovemaking, he realised that this position wasn’t probably doing anything for her back, and he rolled off next to her.

To his great pleasure, (F/N) immediately turned around and snuggled into him, seeking his warmth and his love.

As they lay together, satisfied and spent, the two lovers took a moment to just close their eyes and rest. 

“Are you alright, my sweet?” Aesop asked, still breathless, only able to open eye for the time being, “I haven’t hurt you any more?” Instead of an answer, what he got was an even fuller armful of his fiancée, one of her hands coming to run through the hair on his chest, damp with sweat. Finally, she spoke: “You worry entirely too much, Ace.”

While a shared bath was still on the schedule before they’d go to sleep, a wandless Scourging charm was used for the time being, just to remove the discomfort of sweat and other bodily fluids drying up on their skin. 

The potions master took comfort in the familiar soft scent of her hair, and his arms, while slightly weakened by the sweet afterglow, still had strength enough to hold his fiancée exactly where she was: Exactly where she belonged. Not that she minded, of course, there was no place on earth as safe and comforting as right there with this man.

However, (F/N) had to admit the difficult and strenuous day followed by the couples’ only slightly less strenuous but just as intense activities left her feeling rather ravenous. So much so that even the picture of something as bland as oat porridge left her nearly salivating.

So, she took a deep breath and gathered all of her strength, and made an honest attempt to wiggle out of the professor’s strong hold. And, of course, he did not budge one bit. Another attempt - fruitless again. Aesop murmured unhappily, obviously less than thrilled about the very prospect of releasing her.

“Not ready to let you go yet,” he confirmed her suspicions. The young woman simply rolled her eyes good-naturedly, her own hands coming to caress at whichever part they could reach. “Come now, Ace,” she reasoned, “neither of us ate. I haven’t since lunch - something I’m quite happy about, since otherwise I surely would've lost whatever I ate in a most unpleasant way - and I doubt you had anything other than tea and biscuits since your own lunch.”

Aesop grumbled something unintelligible under his breath, making his young fiancée chuckle: “What was that, dear?” The professor only wrapped his arms around her tighter: “I said I wasn't hungry.”

As if right on cue, Aesop's stomach gave a very telling and loud growl.

“Liar,” (F/N) said only, a victorious smile playing on her face. Aesop finally loosened up his arms a little, but his hands remained on her hips. He raised his dishevelled head, a lazy grin playing on his lips, one that made his sweetheart want to kiss it right off. 

“You know, we could just summon something and make a meal out of it here,” he made his last attempt, brow raised.

With a huff, (F/N) finally managed to leave his arms, right away missing his warmth but ready to stand her ground. She stood up next to the bed and placed her hands on her hips: “Aesop Theodore Sharp, it's one thing to indulge in a meal in bed every once in a while, but prepare it there too? That's how you get ants, you know.”

Aesop seemed quite unbothered by her voice, seemingly enjoying eyeing up her bare curves too much.

“Now, where are my knickers,” she asked, looking around the room, mostly scanning the floor. The professor meanwhile stretched his tall body upon the bed further, again rather similarly to a content tomcat. “I think I'm lying atop them, actually,” he admitted lazily, making absolutely no attempt to actually roll over a bit and hand her the garment. The young woman couldn't help but shake her head, both exasperated and loving every second of it.

“Well, may I have them back? In return for a light supper?” She tried, but even as she was speaking her question, she knew what the answer was going to be. Still, Aesop made a small effort and had the decency to appear thoughtful for a moment.

“No deal,” he said finally, “However, I will run us the bath in the meantime, and make breakfast to bed for you tomorrow. In a similar state of undress, if you so wish. How's that?”

With a final chuckle and a roll to her eyes, (F/N) turned around and bent over, at the very least picking up Aesop's shirt to cover up while she made their food, ignoring his little wolf whistle. She closed the two bottom buttons of the shirt, still leaving her cleavage quite visible to his hungry gaze. 

“Spoilsport,” he said with a mock-pout, and this time she wasn't able to hold herself back from putting one of her knees on the bed and kissing that silly expression off his face. To Aesop's great displeasure, she soon pulled back and fixed him with a triumphant expression.

“I'll hold you to that bath and breakfast,” she said as she turned away and began walking out of their bedroom.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed the story! You can also check this work and all of my other works over on my AO3. Feedback greatly appreaciated ❤️

[sosa2imagines]

You, me and Vegas! Part 10

Warning- fluff, fun and trying to figure out.

The days were ticking away, the deadline for their annulment drawing closer. Bucky tried not to think about it too much, but it was impossible to ignore the looming date entirely.

Peach, on the other hand, seemed determined to make the most out of the time they had left together. She was cheerful, her usual self, but Bucky noticed small things, a slight edge in her smile, a hint of sadness in her eyes, when she thought he wasn't looking.

Each passing day felt heavier than the last. Bucky found himself watching her more closely, studying the way she moved, the way she talked, the expressions that crossed her face. He was storing these moments away, a strange sense of nostalgia already setting in.

Meanwhile, Peach would lay in bed at nights, staring up at the ceiling. She had been having trouble sleeping, her mind refusing to switch off. One thought kept circling around and around in her head. Why did she care so much about Bucky?

Sure, he was handsome, and he was nice, and he made her laugh, but there was something else there, something she couldn't quite put her finger on.

She tossed and turned, trying to analyze her feelings, figure out where this sudden attachment to Bucky had come from. Deep down she knew what it was, but didn't dare to dwell on it.

It was a day before their annulment date. Peach walked over to Bucky, holding a small gift box in her hands. She had a grin on her face, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“I got you something...” she announced, holding up the box.

Bucky, who had been sitting on the couch, looked up in surprise. “You got me something?” he repeated, already reaching out to take the box from her.

Peach nodded, practically bouncing on her toes as she waited for him to open the box. She had been planning this gift for a while, and she was eager to see his reaction.

Bucky, a little amused by her excitement, opened the box with a curious expression. Inside, he found a collection of his favorite candy bars, neatly arranged and tied with a red ribbon.

Bucky carefully pulled out the contents of the box. His eyes widened when he saw what was hidden underneath the candy bars, a new camera.

He looked up at Peach, his surprise evident. “You remembered?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.

Peach smiled, her expression turning a little smug. “Of course I remembered!!!” she replied, feeling pleased. “You've talked about your love for photography a lot. I figured you could use an upgrade.”

Bucky's fingers ran lightly over the camera, his expression thoughtful. He was silent for a moment, then he looked up at her again, his gaze holding hers.

“Thank you.” he said, his voice softer. He held her gaze for a moment longer, a silent conversation passing between them.

He wasn't just thanking her for the gift, he was thanking her for the thought, for the fact that she'd listened to him, remembered something so tiny yet so important to him. For making him feel seen, cared for.

Peach felt a warm glow spreading in her chest at his words. She had been worried that the gift might be too much, too personal. But seeing the look on his face, the sincere appreciation in his eyes, told her she'd made the right decision.

Bucky carefully set the camera back in its box, handling it with almost reverent care. “This is...I really don't know what to say, Peach...” he admitted, his voice slightly gruff. “It's perfect.”

“You need to try it out,” Peach insisted, gesturing towards the camera. “Go on, give it a shot.”

Bucky chuckled at her insistence. “Now?” he asked, still holding the box. “You want me to take a picture right now?”

Peach nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, now!” she said, her voice eager. “I want to see what sort of shots you can take with this thing.”

Bucky couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. He carefully set the box down on the coffee table and picked up the camera, turning it over in his hands.

“Okay, okay,” he said, half-laughing, half-sighing. “What should I take a picture of?”

Peach thought for a moment, then smirked. “Me!” she declared, striking a pose. “Take a picture of me!”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smile toying on his lips. “Demanding, aren't you?” he teased, raising the camera to look through the lens.

Peach laughed, still in her pose. “You love it.” she retorted, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Bucky chuckled and pressed his finger on the shutter, capturing her in the middle of her laughter.

He lowered the camera, looking at the preview of the picture. It captured her perfectly, mid-laugh, eyes bright, a wide smile on her face. He couldn't help being impressed by the camera's quality. But most importantly, Peach.

“You look...happy,” he said quietly, looking up from the camera to her. “Really happy.”

Peach moved closer, looking at the picture on the preview screen as well. “What can I say?” she said, her voice light. “You bring out the best in me.”

Bucky's heart gave a strange lurch in his chest at her words. He felt a pang of some emotion he couldn't quite name, and for a second, he faltered. Then he masked it with a smile, clearing his throat.

“It's a good pic...” he said, forcing his tone to be light. “Should we take another one, just in case? You know, to test the camera's capabilities.”

Peach had taken off, a laugh escaping her lips. “Catch me if you can!” she called over her shoulder, her feet already pounding on the hardwood floors.

Bucky stared after her for a split second, surprised, then broke into a smile. He quickly set the camera back on the table and started after her. His long legs took him quickly into a run.

“You're faster than I expected.” Bucky called after her, his voice carrying a hint of laughter.

Peach just laughed back, darting around a corner. She had chosen a game she was confident she could win, after all, she was smaller than Bucky. Her heart was racing, but it was as much from Bucky's proximity as it was from the chase.

Bucky chased her through the apartment, dodging furniture and door frames. He was gaining on her, but she was elusive, always just out of reach. His heart was beating fast, his breaths coming out short and sharp, but he was having fun. More fun than he remembered having in a long time.

Bucky finally caught up to her in the living room, grabbing her around the waist and sending them both tumbling onto the carpet in a tangle of limbs. They hit the floor with an oomph, Bucky landing on top of her.

“Got you…” he panted, looking down at her, a grin on his face.

Peach laughed breathlessly, looking up at him. “You cheated!” she accused, her voice half-playful, half-serious.

Bucky smirked down at her, his face only a few inches away from hers. He was fully pinned her down, his hands on each side of her, his body caging hers. They were both panting heavily, their hearts racing.

Bucky suddenly became aware of their positioning, him on top of her, trapping her beneath him, their faces so close together he could count her eyelashes if he wanted to. It was a rather intimate position, and it suddenly felt like the air had thickened around them.

Peach could feel the sudden shift in the air as well. She was suddenly very conscious of how close they were, of the weight and warmth of Bucky's body above hers, of his hands on her sides, pinning her down.

She swallowed, looking up at him, her breath catching in her chest.

Her eyes met his, her breath growing more ragged. Bucky was staring down at her intently, his gaze searching hers, as if trying to figure her out. The space between them felt charged, almost electric, and Peach had the strangest urge to reach up and touch his face.

But then he moved slightly, shifting his weight a little, and she stifled a gasp as his leg ended up between hers. The small action sent a jolt through her body, and she found herself holding her breath, praying he wouldn't notice.

But of course, Bucky was observant. He looked down at her, a small smile on his lips. He clearly had felt the shiver that had gone through her body, and he was aware of the effect he was having on her.

“Breathe, Peach...” he said teasingly, his voice deep and slightly hoarse. “You're turning red.”

Peach mentally cursed her body's reactions. She could feel the heat on her cheeks, she knew she was blushing. She tried to compose herself, tried to come up with a snarky retort, but her mind was empty, her thoughts scattered.

“I…I’m...” she managed to mutter, her voice uneven.

Bucky leaned down, his face hovering just over hers. He was so close now, their lips only a handful of inches apart. Peach could feel his breath against her skin, could feel the heat radiating off his body.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, her lips parted involuntarily. She found herself watching his lips, wondering what it would feel like to have them pressed against hers.

Bucky's gaze was intense, his eyes drifting from her eyes to her lips and back again. He looked as if he was fighting with himself, trying to hold back.

“Peach...” he murmured, his voice a low, rough whisper. It was as if he wanted to say something but couldn't quite get the words out.

Peach watched him, her heart fluttering in her chest. There was a strange tension between them now, almost like a tangible force, pulling them together.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips, then back up to his eyes, and she felt the strangest urge to close that small, maddening gap between them.

Just when their lips were so close, they were almost touching, the sharp ring of the doorbell shattered the silence.

Bucky started, pulling back slightly as if snapped out of a trance. He looked down at Peach beneath him, confusion and disappointment on his face. She mirrored his expression, her heart still racing from the almost-kiss, her body still charged with the electric tension.

The doorbell rang again, insistent and impatient. Bucky took a deep breath, rolling off Peach and getting to his feet awkwardly. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes still on her, a multitude of emotions in his gaze.

“I should...I should get that.” he said after a moment, his voice oddly thick.

As Bucky opened the door, he stared at his parents in surprise. He hadn't been expecting them, or anyone for that matter. They looked equally surprised to see him, but their gaze quickly shifted behind him, to a spot just out of his vision.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder and saw Peach standing there, looking a little disheveled from their earlier game. His parents' gazes were trained on her, clearly wondering who she was and what she was doing here.

Part 9 - Part 11

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[sturnswrites]

fragments of us - pt.5

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

⤳ you and chris get in a car accident not only testing your relationship but also your memory…

⤳ angst?, memory loss, recovery, kiss

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

The days since your and Chris’s conversation about the mixtape had been a mix of cautious optimism and lingering uncertainty. Chris had kept his distance as promised, but every moment apart felt like an eternity. He tried to stay busy, burying himself in small tasks around the house—fixing the squeaky cabinet door in the kitchen, organizing the mess of shoes by the door—but his mind always wandered back to you.

For you, the memory box and mixtape had left a mark you couldn’t shake. Every night, you’d sit in your room with the box open on your bed, rifling through its contents as if it were a puzzle you were trying to solve. The photo of you and Chris had stayed on your nightstand, a silent reminder of the life you couldn’t remember but felt drawn to.

You didn’t know what you were supposed to feel—grief for the lost memories? Guilt for the pain you saw in Chris’s eyes? Or hope for the flickers of connection that had started to surface?

The others had noticed the subtle shift in your dynamic. Matt and Nick had stopped intervening as much, sensing that this was something only you and Chris could navigate. But they still lingered, offering quiet support whenever it seemed needed.

You often found yourslef glancing toward the couch where Chris usually sat, catching him watching you before he quickly looked away. The distance between the two of you was palpable, but so was the yearning. It was as if you were on two sides of a bridge, hesitant to take the first step toward meeting in the middle.

-

One evening, you sat in the living room, the memory box open on the coffee table. The house was quiet except for the faint hum of the heater kicking on. The photo of you and Chris lay in your lap, your fingers absently tracing the edges.

You hadn’t meant to stay out there so late, but something about the quiet felt comforting. You flipped through the stack of photos again, pausing on one of you and Chris sitting on the hood of a car, laughing. You didn’t know the story behind it, but you could feel the happiness radiating from the image.

Your heart ached, but you weren't sure why.

Chris appeared in the doorway, his hand hesitating on the frame. He’d been upstairs, pacing his room, trying to decide whether to come down.

“Hey,” he said softly.

You looked up, startled, but didn’t close the box like you might have days ago. Instead, you offered a small, tentative smile. “Hey.”

He stepped closer, gesturing to the box. “Going through it again?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice quiet. “It…it helps.”

Chris nodded, sitting down a cautious distance away on the couch. The tension was there, but so was something else—something softer.

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, his voice gentle.

“You’re not interrupting,” you replied. You hesitated before adding, “Actually, I was hoping you’d come down. I wanted to ask you something.”

Chris’s heart skipped a beat. “Anything.”

“What were we like? Before the accident?”

The question knocked the air out of him for a moment. He’d been waiting for this—hoping for it—but hearing you ask sent a rush of emotion through him. He forced himself to stay calm, afraid of overwhelming you.

“We were... happy,” he began, his voice soft but steady. “You used to make me laugh until my stomach hurt. And you had this way of making everything feel lighter, even when things weren’t easy. We were a team. We always had each other’s backs.”

You tilted your head, your eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to picture it. “Did we fight a lot?”

Chris chuckled, the sound tinged with sadness. “Sometimes. You were stubborn, and so was I. But it was never…bad. We always worked things out because we cared too much to stay mad.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing his words. “What was the accident about? What were we fighting over?”

Chris’s chest tightened. “I don’t think that matters,” he said carefully.

“It matters to me.”

He hesitated, looking down at his hands. “We were arguing about something stupid,” he admitted. “I don’t even remember exactly what I said, but I know I hurt you. And I’ll never forgive myself for that.”

Your lips parted slightly, a flicker of something passing through your eyes. You leaned forward, gripping the photo tighter. “I remember…” you whispered, your voice shaky.

Chris’s head snapped up, his breath catching. “What do you remember?”

Your brows furrowed as you tried to piece the fragments of the memory together. Your mind was a maze of half-formed images, swirling sensations, and emotions you couldn’t fully grasp. “It’s not clear. It’s just… a moment,” you said softly, your voice faltering as if the words themselves were struggling to break free. “I remember us in the car. I was upset. You—” You stopped, pressing a trembling hand to your forehead, as if that might anchor your thoughts. Your breath quickened, and a shudder ran through your body as the fragmented images of the argument began to form.

Your heart raced. You could feel the intensity of the argument, the harshness in the air between you. You remembered yourself, shouting, frustration cutting through the words, your chest tight with emotion. You remembered Chris, looking at you with such deep intensity, his jaw clenched as he tried to hold his ground. But there had been something else there too—something raw, something that felt as if he was on the verge of saying something important, something he didn’t know how to say.

Your chest tightened, the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Your breath hitched as you struggled to pull the details from the fog. “We were arguing, and then…” Your voice wavered, cracking under the weight of the memory that came flooding back all at once. “You reached for my hand.” You swallowed hard, your throat dry as the memory flashed in your mind. “Right before everything went black, you said…” You trailed off, your eyes fluttering closed as you felt the weight of his words settle in your chest. “You said… ‘I’m sorry. I love you.’”

Your words dropped between you two like a stone, heavy and tangible. The air around you seemed to thicken, charged with emotion. Chris held his breath, a lump forming in his throat as the words you had just spoken cut through him like a blade, raw and sharp. His heart clenched in his chest, and the pain he had kept buried for so long threatened to break free. He had never imagined that hearing you speak those words again would feel like this—both a release and a fresh wound all at once.

“Y/N…” His voice cracked, a soft sob escaping him as he reached out toward you. His fingers trembled as he moved closer, each step a desperate attempt to bridge the distance between you two. His eyes searched yours, a silent plea, a hope he didn’t dare speak aloud. “What… What are you feeling right now?” His voice was broken, barely above a whisper, but the urgency in it was undeniable.

You stared at him, your eyes filled with unshed tears, your gaze both distant and searching. “I don’t remember everything,” you said, your voice trembling with the weight of your confession. “But I think…” you paused, taking a shuddering breath as the pieces of the memory danced just out of reach. “I think I remember what love feels like with you.”

Chris’s chest tightened with emotion. The vulnerability in your words, the way you hesitated yet still allowed yourself to feel, made his heart ache. You were opening up to him, even if only a little. He wanted to reach out to you, to wrap his arms around you and promise you that everything would be okay. But instead, he stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move, overwhelmed by the love he still felt for you, and the hope that maybe—just maybe—you felt it too.

The silence between you two stretched long and heavy, the world outside your little bubble falling away. The room felt smaller, as if it had closed in around you, just the two of you and the painful, beautiful weight of your shared history. Your words echoed in his mind—I think I remember what love feels like with you. The love you had once shared, the love he still carried with him, was still there, buried beneath the surface of your lost memories.

Chris reached out slowly, his heart racing in his chest, his hands shaking with the effort of keeping himself together. Your eyes met his, your expression vulnerable but softening. He could see the confusion, the hesitation still lingering in your eyes, but there was something else too—something that told him you weren't as far away from him as you once seemed.

“Y/N…” His voice was thick with emotion, the word barely escaping him as he reached for your hand. He felt a jolt of electricity when your fingers met, a spark of recognition that shot through him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t flinch. You let him hold your hand, your palm warm against his, your fingers curling slightly around his, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Chris let out a shaky breath.

There was no grand gesture. No sudden realization. It was just the simple, quiet connection of two people who had once loved each other, trying to find their way back. Slowly, gently, he closed his fingers around yours, as if he was afraid that if he held on too tightly, you would slip away from him again. And in that moment, it felt like the first time in weeks that he was whole again.

You looked at him, your lips trembling, and for the first time in so long, you allowed yourself to look at him without fear. You could feel the warmth of his hand in yours, the steady pressure of his touch that spoke louder than words ever could. It was as if something had clicked, just slightly, but enough for you to see him again—the boy who had once been everything to you.

“I’m here,” Chris whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to remember. But even if you never do… I’ll never stop loving you.” He could feel his chest tightening, the weight of the confession heavy in the air between you two. He had no idea what the future would bring, but at this moment, he didn’t care. All he cared about was that you were here, and that you were connected again in some small way.

You felt something stir in your chest at his words. Something deep and quiet, like a flicker of light in the darkness. You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think I’m ready to try,” you said, your fingers tightening around his just slightly. “I don’t remember everything. But I want to. I want to remember… I want to feel all of it again.”

Your words made him want to break down. Want to shout. But instead, he leaned in slowly, closing the distance between you until your foreheads were almost touching, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you both allowed yourselves to be vulnerable.

Without thinking, Chris pressed his lips gently to yours. The kiss was soft, hesitant at first, as if you were both testing the waters, unsure of how the connection between you would feel. But as it deepened, all the weight of the past weeks—the frustration, the pain, the fear—melted away. It was just the two of you. It was just your love, fragile but still there.

You kissed him back, your heart beating in time with his, and for a moment, you could feel it—the love that you had lost and was slowly finding again. And for the first time since the accident, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—you could find your  way back to each other.

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

Thanks for sticking with this long awaited part 5 😌

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@mattsdillon @hesvoid3434 @admeliora94 @courta13 

[zekescherries]

﹒ LEFT BEHIND! ﹔ ft ＃ zeke yeager ﹐ 🍒 ﹒　　 ׅ 　

CONSPECTUS﹕a living reminder of what he sacrificed, of what he left behind in pursuit of a "saving" opportunity for the eldian people.

PAIRING﹕zeke yeager × female!reader ﹒ post-rumbling

CHAPTER(S)﹕previous ﹒ next

CONTENT WARNING﹕pregnancy & childbirth (mentioned) + grieving + single-parenthood + slight ptsd + dead!zeke + dark themes + pet names (zeke calls you peach) (i know not everyone is for pet names) + intentional lowercase & more as the story progresses

AUTHOR'S NOTE﹕this chapter might seem a little lazy, because it's mostly dialogue. also ignore any spelling mistakes, i didn't reread this. 😞

"is it good?" levi asks, watching veil sit next to him at the table and eat.

"sour."

levi sighs, he didn't expect much from her. especially with the way he cooks. he lets his cold calloused hand just rest on top of her head for a minute. "just eat, okay? i'm not sending you back to your mother hungry." after a moment he retracts it, sitting up properly in his wheelchair.

"okay!" veil doesn't even protest, digging into her food, only pausing to blow on it.

the two sit in peace, enjoying their meal and each other's company. that is until veil jumps in her seat, the loud crash of a tree falling to the ground scaring her.

levi's eyes dart to the window, the stained glass showing a cloudy picture of a fallen tree, an axe lodged deep into its bark. "why'd they cut down that tree?" veil puts her plate down, arms stretched just above the table.

"who knows,"

"stay here. i'll be back."

veil sees levi off, watching him get up from his wheelchair and walk deeper into the house. she always thought of him as unable to walk but it seems as if he can, burdened only by a limp. veil can't shake her inquisitiveness. her eyes fixated on the window, although she can barely see through hot from this angle.

curiosity kills the cat, they say.

veil covers her eyes, the sun blinding her only temporarily. she squints, the far left lays the tree. it's not nearly as big as the crash made it seem.

a woman, as tall as any man, gold blond hair. like veil's own.

"um. . .excuse me?" veil's voice softens, a tinge of nervousness creeping up on her. she had never seen this woman before, yet here she was, so close to levi's house.

when she turns veil's platinum irises bore into the stranger's deep black eyes. they look so dead, so endless. until they don't.

"you. . ."

"ah . . ."

"no wonder she. . ."

a spark flares in this woman's eyes, as if she had seen something supernatural. something great.

"hello there." she purses her lips, a smirk creeping on her face. veil only waves, her face a bit off-putting.

"what's your name?" a question she so desperately needed an answer too.

"veil."

"veil, that's a. . .lovely name for such a lovely girl."

"i'm yelena." she introduces, her hand outstretched to the girl. it seemed as though yelena, this mysterious woman was adamant on making conversating with the girl now despite only just meeting her.

veil takes her hand, though small and shakes it.

curiosity kills the cat, they say

© zekescherries , 🍒

[princess-ibri]

Darkside Disney Princesses: Belle

(Edit-put my original picture for her under the cut)

(So this one does rely somewhat on the backstories made up for my DisneyVerse versions of the parents of both Belle and the Beast. But I think it still has good precedent because of the whole Belle and Rumplestiltskin thing that happens in OUAT)

In the Darkside version of Belle's tale, Felipe never makes it back to the village to let Belle know something has happened to Maurice, either he gets lost in the woods, or the wolves find him again. And so Belle waits patiently for him to return. Waits, and waits, and waits…

Finally a month has passed, and Belle is desperate to find out what's happened to her father. With no way to know where along his journey he went missing though, she has no way to know where to start looking. And the town isn’t too worried about chasing after “Crazy Old Maurice”, gone into the blue.

Her own circumstances are getting dire as well, without Maurice there to bring in their little income from helping repair the villages various items, her resources are running low. She's taken in sewing or whatever small work people might give her, but its a small town after all, and the people are used to doing their own labor, and couldn't pay her much besides.

The kinder townsfolk give her what they can, but with winter coming on they've got to look out for themselves and their own families

Of course, there's always Gaston's ready offer of marriage, but Belle isn't that desperate. Yet.

Her refusals don't stop him from coming over and offering nearly every day, and they certainly spur him into making sure the town gets the idea that Belle is "too proud to accept charity, don't bother giving her any supplies"

So the winter closes in, Belle finds herself colder and hungrier, and her firewood is getting low. Finally, she bundles up as warmly as she can, and braves her way into the forest to gather what wood she can.

And in the glamor of the sudden snow, she too becomes lost within the trees.

The cold closes in around her. Deep and biting. The trees seem to twist around her, and finally she trips and falls, losing her axe beneath the snow that's piling higher and higher. She has no idea where she is or where to go, as the darkness deepens

Then suddenly, a light. Just ahead of her in the trees, flickering like a flame. She manages to stumble towards it. Following the dance of the light as it seems to lead her onwards, almost beckoning. Every bit of her is numb, but at last she makes it to the door of a ruined looking old tower. And inside, lounging by a roaring fire, is someone, something, between a man and a beast. It bears the shape of a man, but it's skin is mottled green, like the stuffed crocodile she'd once seen hanging in a church as a girl. It's eyes are black as coal, save for the irises, which shine-- like it's hair--like burning gold.

"Hello there Dearie", the being says, with a smile that glitters like a row of needles in the firelight. "Won't you come in? What is it that brings such a pretty young thing out into these dark and dangerous woods?"

Too numb with cold to feel fear, too desperate for warmth to think with caution, Belle accepts the offer, and lulled by the warmth of the fire and the being's careful coaxing, she begins to tell her tale. Her missing father, her growing desperation as Gaston drove away those who might have helped her, the dwindling food and firewood. And through it all the being listens, sympathizes, and finally, offers it's aid:

"For a price of course"

Belle is not put off by this caveat. She has read enough to know of Les Fées and the bargains they often make. She knows of the tricks and traps they lay. She also knows that at this point, she has little left to lose.

And so she agrees to make a bargain with this strange Imp

“You don’t know it, but there’s a power in you dearie. Flowing in your veins, deep down, like an underground spring. I can teach you to draw it up, so that you’ll never know weakness nor want again. You’ll be able to do all the things you ever dreamed of dearie, fulfill every wish—even finding your father”

The promise of this wished for dream above all lights a fire inside of Belle hotter than the one she sits by, but she asks warily: “And, what is it you get out of this?”

“Let’s just say that I’ll have the opportunity to pay something forward”

So Belle begins her lessons, she has always been a swift student. Drawing out the latent fairy magic that lies sleeping within her, waiting to be called forth. In another life she might have discovered it with the help of a more benign teacher. But that is not this life. And she learns to call forth her power through the lens of her fear, frustration, and anger over the willingness of that small and small minded town to so easily cast her and her father aside.

Time passes differently within the environs of the old stone tower. When Belle finally leaves, for her months have gone by, and yet as she reaches the edge of the forest, clad in a gown of midnight blue, her eyes dark as the winter sky above her, she perceives that less than a day has passed since she entered the woods, seeking wood to keep back the cold.

She has no need of warmth anymore.

She reaches out with the power she has learned to yield, seeking the bonds of blood and love that link her to her father. She sees them, feels them, faintly running through the forest. She follows them through the trees, unafraid of the wolves that once would have stalked her, and now slink away in fear at her approach.

She follows them to the gates of a vast and terrible castle, echoing with dying magic, a curse reaching completion she thinks, with the new arcane knowledge she holds. But she does not think on that, but on following the call. Through the door, along empty passages,up the winding stairs, to a jail cell atop a tower. Where lies the frozen body of her father, long gone.

Belle’s grief consumes her, feeding the cold flames of her power. She stalks through the halls, seeking the one who locked her father away, who left him to his fate.

She finds him at last, a snarling beast, crouched around a bell jar that holds a rose, with but one petal left upon it. Magic swirls about it, the center of the web that binds this place. Once Belle might have been curious, wished to learn the secrets of this place, and it’s strange enchanted inhabitants.

Now, she wishes only for revenge

The beast is strong and fierce, savage, the last vestiges of human thought quickly fading away as the curse nears completion, for he has never learned to love, nor earn love in return. But for all his brute strength, he is still only a mortal, and once more finds himself overpowered by a sorceress’s magic

When Belle leaves the castle, crumbling into smoking ruins behind her, she holds in her hands a staff, grown from the dying stem of a rose; once the blushing pink of hopeful love, hope that withered as its petals fell, now burst forth into bloom, the deep dark blue of a winters sky, of a heart gone dark and cold.

She walks steadfastly, resolutely towards the small town she had once called home. There are more scores to settle. Somewhere on the wind, she thinks she hears the echo of the Imp’s laughter…

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You broke me first

part 27

cill: bad news.

zoe: uhoh. what?

Zoe hated text messages like this. It’s bad enough he was leaving soon, how much worse can it get?

cill: it was more than just a wardrobe fitting.

Zoe: ???

cill:

Zoe laughed at the picture, staring at the signature pesky haircut he’s been subjected to all this time during this series. He hated it, he hated the upkeep, and he hated growing it out. Zoe knew he was relishing in the last couple of days of his normal hair before the inevitable happened.

Zoe: wow they really went short on the sides! Better wear a hat you’re gonna catch cold over there.

Cill: i’ll be living in hoodies with the hood up for the foreseeable future.

cill: how you feeling, bunny?

Zoe had taken a sick day from work today. She didn’t feel good, had the chills, and had zero appetite. She was camped out on the couch with a cozy blanket, a cup of tea and the remote while being under the care of her trusty live-in nurse - Scout, of course.

Zoe: a bit better. definitely a lot better than this morning. Scout has been taking care of me. Might actually take him out in a bit and get fresh air.

cill: don’t go outside if you’re sick. i’ll do it when i get home. did you eat anything?

Zoe’s heart still fluttered when he said home. THEIR home, where they live together, even if it’s just the time being.

zoe: i had some ramen noodles for lunch. maybe ill take a bath. i want to change the sheets too just in case whatever i have is contagious, dont need you getting sick.

cill: i’ll take care of the sheets and Scout. you just rest and take a bath. when i get home we’ll talk about dinner.

Zoe: can i suggest a pizza?

cill: not a chance.

zoe: worth a shot.

Zoe smiled and put her phone down on the couch. She looked at scout who was laying the couch by her feet sound asleep. She sighed and was hoping he’d want to go out.

“Scout… hey, wanna go out, boy?” Zoe whispered, nudging the sleeping dog with her foot.

Scout yawned, looked at her, and rolled over and went back to sleep, facing away from her.

“sheesh, okay then,” Zoe mumbled. she peeled back the blanket she was under and stood up to stretch. She was still in her pajamas, which was a baggy band t-shirt that came down to just above her knees. She hadn’t showered yet, was sure she smelled gross and she definitely felt gross. She made her way to the linen closet and pulled out a fresh towel and made her way to the bathroom.

She hasn’t been able to take a bath since she took a bath at Cillian’s in his ginormous, pristine, white bathtub. Her bathroom seemed small and dirty, and didn’t seem as relaxing as Cillian’s bathroom felt. But, she knew the warm water would make her feel better, so she decided to make the best of it, as she turned on the hot water faucet. She decided to grab a bath bomb and a lavender candle to make it more cozier.

She stripped off her T-shirt and panties and lowered herself into the warm water after dropping the bath bomb in. She had the candle lit on the corner of the edge of the tub and she was already starting to smell the lavender fill the room. She cursed herself for forgetting a second towel to fold and use as a pillow for her head, so her dirty T-shirt would have to suffice.

She relaxed and lowered herself even lower into the water, exhaling and closing her eyes. Her tub made Cillian’s look like an olympic sized swimming pool, and she had to bend her knees out of the water.

“If i close my eyes and pretend im anywhere else, its not so bad,” Zoe thought, feeling the water gently slosh around her legs. She heard the jingle of metal on metal, and she opened one eye to see where it was coming from. She was greeted by two big brown eyes staring back at her from the bathroom door.

“don’t tell me NOW you wanna go out,” Zoe said to Scout. Instead, he nudged the door open farther and made his way into the bathroom, peeking into the tub. Zoe pat his head, thinking he wanted some attention. Once he realized she was wet, he cowered away from her hand. He instead circled on the rug outside the tub and lay down, seemingly wanting to nap close to her.

“awww,” Zoe said softly, closing her eyes again. “good boy.”

-

“hey.. baby.. hey.. HEY,”

Zoe jolted awake, water sloshing over the edge of the tub. She opened her eyes to Cillian kneeling next to her on the outside of the tub, hand gently shaking her shoulder.

“I forget you sleep like a rock. I was calling your name when i came home, and i found you in the bathtub like this,” Cillian laughed.

Zoe sat up and awkwardly stretched, her neck now in pain from the awkward angle.

“I didn’t think i’d doze off, I just wanted a quick dip to warm me up”

Cillian looked at his watch. “well, you texted me saying you were taking a bath 2 hours ago, and that water is barely warm anymore,” he said, standing up and grabbing the towel she had placed on the vanity earlier. he opened it in his hands and walked towards the tub. “come on, up.”

Zoe stood up and started shivering almost immediately. Cillian was quick to wrap the towel over her, rubbing her arms to warm her up. He then opened his arms and took her into them, holding her against his body.

“Can’t have you drowning on me, I’d miss you too much,” he said into her hair, giving her a kiss to her temple.

“I miss your bathtub in your old house,” Zoe mumbled. “That was heaven.”

“I’ll build you a bigger bathtub in the new house,” Cillian mumbled back.

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just hard to come back to what you’ve always known once you had a taste of luxury, that’s all i’m saying” Zoe replied.

“well when we’re in the new house you won’t have to worry about taking baths in small bathtubs again,” Cillian said giving her a quick kiss. “I stopped at that restaurant you like in the next town over and brought home some soup for you, and something for myself. I’m gonna walk Scout to the corner quick so he can pee, you get changed and meet in the living room, yeah?”

Zoe smiled. “thank you. that sounds good.”

Cillian walked out of the bathroom towards where Scout was and grabbed his leash while Zoe made her way to her bedroom. She grabbed some new underwear, some sweatpants and one of Cillian’s old T-shirts that would be extra baggy and extra comfortable. She put on some socks and made her way to the living room where she saw the takeout containers on the coffee table.

Zoe went to grab some bowls, plates and utensils and placed them on the coffee table. She grabbed bottle of water for herself and Cillian and made herself cozy on the couch.

While she was trying to find something to watch, Cillian came home with Scout. Scout ran to his basket of toys and pulled out a plush giraffe and began shaking it.

“Dog has so much energy, i swear we RAN home,” Cillian said, kicking off his shoes. He made himself comfortable next to Zoe and started unwrapping the containers.

“How did everything else go today?” Zoe asked, ignoring his shaved head. She already knew how that went.

“ummm…” Cillian started, hesitant to continue. If he was trying to hide something from Zoe, she picked up on it immediately. Something was up.

“what?”

“Well, for one, your magazine called. They said I have to do the interview all over again, with someone else,” Cillian said.

“that sucks, did they tell you who?”

“Some girl named Cindy? Cynthia?”

Zoe groaned. “great. good luck with that one. Where i ended up in bed with you by accident, she’ll try and sleep with you for real,” Zoe said.

“I think it’s over Zoom so you have nothing to worry about,” Cillian laughed.

Cillian cut up some chicken and took a bite. After swallowing, he continued.

“there’s uh… there’s more”

Zoe sat in silence, waiting for him to continue.

“My manager, Mary, is going out on maternity leave, and we’ve been having a hard time trying to find someone in the interim, but her and Hannah went to the same college or sorority or whatever, and she volunteered to do it while Mary is out. So Hannah is gonna be glued to my hip for the next couple of months. And apparently … I’m leaving for London on Monday.” Cillian said the last part very fast and very softly.

Zoe could hear her heartbeat in her ears.

be cool, be cool, be cool.

“oh wow… monday? that’s … in 3 days.” Zoe said.

Cillian put his fork down and grabbed her hand.

“I know, love, but it’s not permanent you know that. and we’ll talk every day. multiple times a day. I’m coming back.”

“i know.” Zoe said, forcing a smile. “I’ll coordinate stuff for the house for you while you’re gone, with all the furniture deliveries and stuff.”

“I appreciate it. thanks love. I already made you a key” he said, digging into his pocket.

“Assumed i’d help you move while you’re off being Tommy Shelby?? how’d you know i’d say yes to helping?!” Zoe joked.

Cillian smiled. “I was making you a key, regardless.” he leaned in and gave her a kiss, placing the key in her hand.

“So you and Hannah are gonna be quite the team…” Zoe continued.

“Yeah,” Cillian replied, “I had no idea she had managerial experience. But she started in the industry as a manager and pivoted into PR, so..” he continued, shrugging his shoulders.

“Cillian and Hannah, the dynamic duo,” Zoe said, taking a spoonful of soup.

“Yea,” Cillian chuckled, grabbing another mouthful of food.

“I mean, hey, what could go wrong?”

tags: @lau219 @shopgirl6us @cillianmurphyvevo @borntodiemp3

[theamityelf]

Oh! Since aoi sometimes forgets makoto,like you said this can create a situation where makoto meets class 77

And if she forgets him at the fountain hajime can meet him,or save him if makoto luck had him fall in the fountain or crows and birds try to pick on him

And his luck combined with nagito could create a situation where nagito makoto perhaps fell accidentally in nagito pocket and nagito didn't notice until he's in class and there's a wiggling and lo and behold there is his tiny kouhai and obviously the rest of the class will immediately clamour to see makoto

While class 78 are just panicking because where is makoto??? Who lost him?!?!!? Then you have kyoko investigating and byakuya using all his power to find,mukuro,aoi are running around the whole school trying asking(threatening in mukuro's case) if they've seen a tiny person,chihiro is hacking the cameras,Junko is somehow in someway making the situation worse (whether it be planting ideas of makoto possibly being dead (I mean he's small right? So what if someone stepped and squished him?) and blaming but also not making it seem she's blaming the person who was responsible for him

Chai anon-

(Mini Classmates AUs Masterlist)

(previous post: Mini Makoto getting lost)

Oh gosh, yes.

I'm SO torn as to whether I prefer it to be Hajime or Izuru who finds Makoto. Because, my long history of Hinaegi posts aside, as far as the canon timeline goes, I'm pretty sure it would have to be Izuru.

And either way could be so fun!

Hajime option: As you said, Hina forgets Makoto on or near the fountain. I'm picturing Makoto frantically dog-paddling away from the birds you mentioned. It's both adorable and terrifying. Hajime plucks him out of the water and for a moment isn't sure what he's looking at.

"Huh?" he breathes, as he holds what looks to be a tiny teenager in front of his face.

Makoto is panting and honestly just so exhausted from avoiding being eaten that he doesn't even say anything; he's just limp and soaked, in Hajime's hand. (It's kind of...cute.)

"What are you? I mean, are you, uh...?" Hajime pokes him.

Makoto remains too exhausted to respond, so Hajime kind of shrugs and takes him with him to class. He puts Makoto in his pocket, not thinking of the body heat issue, so when he gets to his classroom and removes Makoto from his pocket, he's very hot and stressed.

Hajime figures out what went wrong and does his best to care for Makoto better.

He keeps Makoto with him for the rest of the school day, because by the time Makoto is able to communicate who he is and that he needs to return to his class, Hajime no longer has free time to take him back. Hajime hands him off to someone from the main course at his earliest convenience, which could be that evening after classes or the following morning.

During that time, he and Makoto have some nice conversations, and he feeds Makoto small pieces of his meals.

Most likely, Chiaki is the one he hands Makoto off to, when he gets the chance. She thinks it's very cool. But Hajime might advise her to make sure Makoto stays with someone who won't leave him laying around, because it doesn't escape him that Makoto could have died.

Izuru option: This has to be a luck catastrophe. I'm thinking, Hina forgets Makoto in the kitchen or pantry or warehouse– someplace where it makes sense for him to be accidentally transported to the labs where Izuru is. Or, taking the anime as not-canon (which we know I love to do), Izuru has already left the labs on his own and he just comes across Makoto on campus.

He would be so selfish and possessive about it. Literally, complete poker face. Oh, everyone's looking for this luckster who disappeared? His class is panicking? Their schoolwork and talent work is suffering because they can't find the shrunken luckster? Sucks for them. He found it, so it's his.

It's not coming from a place of affection, at first. The affection starts to rear its head the first time Makoto manages to fall out of a hole in his pocket or get perilously lost in his hair. It takes genuine skill to take care of his new pet.

Assuming he still sleeps in the labs at the end of each day, presumably his "teachers" know that he has Makoto. Maybe they tell the 78th class that their luckster has been found and is no longer their responsibility, or maybe not.

Izuru crafts miniature medical equipment to account for Makoto's accident-prone nature.

(He also comes up with a way to return him to his normal size, not because he wants to do it, but because it's a question that has been put before him and it's in his nature to figure out the answer. He fully intends to do nothing with the information. If he ever does bring Makoto to normal size, he still considers him his.)

He talks to Makoto politely, and he has better hearing than most, so he doesn't need to raise Makoto close to his ear to hear him when he speaks.

And I could see Nagito somehow getting involved in this scenario, as a luck contrivance.

[sleepyqweeb189]

Trigger warning: Drugging, blood, drowning, body horror(both in writing and picture).

Alexa body acke so much her right . Saint Vanilla magic was really powerful, but whatever magic he was using... it's not the same as Pure Vanilla she knew from the game...

Alexa has been walking for a while, not knowing where to go. Her feet hurt, she's hungry, only eating one bite of poptart she had, she didn't have much to sense of direction and only kept going. She wanted to cry. Tears fell down her face as she cried. Alexa got tired of walking and decided to take a small nap... she hopes that this is all just a dream...

The next morning...

Alexa felt the sun on her face. She weakly got up and noticed that she was still in the forest. Alexa sighed and got back to wandering somewhere... After a while, Alexa stumbled across a pink fabric near a river. She wonders where the fabric came from, but it might help with her burn on get right wrist. Alexa tied the ribbon around her wrist in hopes it would help. Alexa got back on her journey, and she didn't notice her clothes slowly changed on its own. By the time Alexa got to a boat, she slowly got in before noticing that her clothes changed into a dress or what locals wear in the hollyberry kingdom. Then, she remembered that she might be near the Hollybarry kingdom! Maybe Hollybarry will help! Alexa remembered how to paddle a boat and strear it, but she was scared of falling in as she doesnt know how to swim. Alexa slowly paddles her way to the Kingdom and feels so happy. But when she got close and was busy trying to get out without messing or ripping the dress, she felt herself being grabbed and thrown onto the deck. She didn't have time to process what was happening before she was picked up by the shoulder and forced to stand up.

"STATE NAME AND YOUR BUSINESS IN THE HOLLYBERRY KINGDOM?!" The guard holding her yelled and demanded.

"U-um im... Blue Cherry...? A-and I'm just visiting a f-friend..?" Alexa was scared and tried to lie about her name.

The guards put her down and allowed her in. Alexa eyes widen in shock from how beautiful the kingdom looks from the game. She looked around and talked to some nice ladies and men. Alexa can feel her bisexuality showing a bit whenever she sees a beautiful lady and man. Alexa explores a bit more, but she is hungry... she was surviving on a poptart with a small bite each day. Alexa saw a really good treat through a window and couldn't help but stare at it. Alexa kept staring at the window and didn't notice someone coming behind her.

"I can buy for you if you want. Hollybarry wouldn't want to see anyone to starve." A male voice spoke.

Alexa turned around and saw Wildberry! Alexa wanted to decline, but she nodded. She was too hungry. Wildberry and Alexa ate together, well, mostly Alexa. Alexa had 3 slices of cake, more than Alexa ate in her life when it comes to cake. Alexa didn't notice Wildberry holding his gomlet like he was ready to use it. Alexa ate with glee and finished her plate.

"Thank you so much, sir. I should be going soon." Alexa got up and continued walking.

Alexa was able to find an inn for a day free. Alexa was super happy when she lay down in bed and fell asleep almost instantly. Alexa woke up in the middle of the night to loud banging. Alexa was scared and ran to open the door, thinking it was an emergency. But Alexa was pushed back and picked up by the neck.

"H-help! Someone help!" Alexa screamed in fear as she begged for help.

"Quiet. Her majesty will be here soon..." Wildberry said.

Alexa has kept struggling and was able to see Wildberry. His look changed... to her, Wildberry looks like a bad guy. I saw what looks like Hollybarry, but... different. She looked scary, and Alexa wondered if that's a real dragon skull. Hollybarry walks towards alexa and Wildberry.

"Ah~ you're the girl Saint Vanilla was talking about. You do look rather odd for a cookie. I suggest you calm with us calmly..." Dragonberry suggested calmy.

Alexa didn't want to listen. Why should she listen? Her room was barged in. Wildberry is close to choking her. But... what choice does she have? She is not very athletic or strong... she is just average. Alexa nodded at Dragonberry command.

"Oh good! What a good child you are! But just to make sure... Guard, inject her." Dragonberry command.

Alexa saw the needle and started to freak out. Alexa started beg and beg to be good, beg to not run. But they guard holding the needle didn't listen. Alexa doesn't like needles but hates needles that have a substance that she doesn't know about...

Wildberry holds Alexa still while the other guard injects the needle in her thoat. Alexa screamed and cried in pain. Alexa tried to calm down cause she knew her freaking out wouldn't help. The needle existed her neck. Alexa slowly felt her body grow tired. The last thing she saw was Dragonberry smiling.

Alexa groaned. Alexa slowly picked herself up but immediately stumbled and fell back down. Alexa probably thinks that she just disoriented.

"Welcome dearie, nice to see you awake! Her majesty asked me for some blood samples! Now i may ask for you to come with me?" A nice cookie lady asked.

Alexa did her best to stand up and follow the nice cookie lady. Alexa had to sit down as the lady cookie took some of her blood. The lady cookie looked surprised that Alexa's blood wasn't Jam. The cookie lady walked Alexa back into her cell. Alexa was scared. She wants to go home... why can't this just be a dream-

"Being all sssssad won't help." A rough voice spoke.

Alexa looked over and saw Pitaya cookie. Alexa was surprised to see them there. Alexa looked over and tried to talk to them, but they didn't say anything else. Alexa gave up after a bit. A couple of days went by. Alexa would be taken to a room, her blood would be taken, then back into her cell. Alexa was given twice as much food as Pitaya cookie. Alexa probably thought that since Wildberry did report how much she ate. Alexa saves her food and makes sure to hide it. Late at night, Alexa does give her leftovers to Pitaya. They doesn't take it, but they takes it when Alexa is sleeping. Alexa was slowly planning an escape. She has to get to her own home. Alexa would do this late at nignt whem they took Pitaya for questioning. Alexa sucked in her gut and squeezed out of the bars. Once Alexa got out, Alexa took a second to stop feeling dizzy. Getting her head out the bars were the hardest and hurt the most. Once alexa felt better, she got up and started to look her way out. Alexa looked through some empty room to find anything useful. All that Alexa could find was some band-aid and a scalpel. Alexa was able to find the main room to see Pitaya and Dragonberry talking, well mostly Dragonberry talking and Pitaya ignoring her. Alexa stayed in the shadows. Alexa stays quiet and slowly walks towards Dragonberry. Alexa took a second before sprinting toward Dragonberry and attempted to take her Soul Jam. If Alexa noticed anything from the Beast Yeast play through of Cookie run, then she knew that the Soul Jam might stop or delay the destruction. But... Alexa only heard Dragonberry laugh. Dragonberry grabbed Alexa from her back and threw her hard against some table where they had some harsh and some unknown chemicals. Alexa screamed and cried loudly in pain. Alexa head hit harshly against the wall. It will make others wonder why Alexa hasn't fainted instantly. The broken glass that holds some of the chemicals has stabbed through one of her hands, parts of her back, some in her feet, and the biggest ones were in her both her arm. Alexa felt the effects of being thrown to the wall. Alexa attempted to get up, but it was hard.

(WARNING: BLOOD, BIT OF BODY HORROR)

Alexa can feel her head bleeding and felt her tears start streaming down. Alexa could taste some of the unknown chemicals that entered her mouth but only a little bit.

"Geez... you ruined our stuff. You know that took a very long time, you little brat." Dragonberry spoke with such venom.

Alexa kept trying to get up, but she was in too much pain. Alexa can see Dragonberry get closer. Suddenly, Dragonberry was pushed to the wall. Dragonberry looks over to see steam coming out of Pitaya mouth. Alexa noticed Pitaya nodding at Alexa. Alexa didn't waste time when Dragonberry was distracted. The guards only focused on Dragonberry and Pitaya. When Dragonberry quickly got up and turned to face Alexa, she found her gone. Dragonberry looked up and saw the door opened.

"Oh... she wants to play Cat and Mouse..? That adorable... After her..." Dragonberry command.

A lot of guards ran out of the room and chacing after Alexa. Alexa hid in a small spot. She hears them run past her. Alexa sighed and waited a bit after they left. Alexa got up after the cost was clear. Alexa whines in pain as her feet are still in pain, if not more. The glass dug itself deeper into her feet. Alexa was able to get outside in the back. Not noticing someone watching her... following her bloodly steps... Alexa was able to get to a boat and climb in, but before she even grabbed the paddle, she was suddenly lifted up by the back of her outfit.

"Well, well, looks like this Cat and Mouse Chase has to come to an end-" Dragonberry didn't finish her sentence when she felt sudden pain in her head.

Alexa started pulling on Dragonberry hair.

Alexa wasn't athletic, but she did have a good grip. Dragonberry groaned in pain when she felt Alexa's tight grip on her hair. After a bit of Dragonberry trying to pull Alexa off, Alexa suddenly let go and kicked Dragonberry under the chin, hoping she would be let go. Dragonberry only laughed at Alexa. Dragonberry didn't need Alexa anymore since she had enough blood from Alexa. Alexa was thrown far and deep into the water.

Alexa tried to swim to the surface but couldn't. Alexa didn't want to die. She tried to gasp for air but the water... tasted like soda. Alexa unknowingly started to try and drink the water, not noticing she was drowning herself. The chemicals. Alexa didn't feel herself slowly sinking into the water. Until something grabbed her and made her sink deeper...

"Coooo..."

Creator of this au: @cuppajj