#it's so close to his freckly shoulders

[burstingsunrise]

I just think that luke's shoulder (specifically this bit of skin)

meghna whether you realize this or not you have tapped into one of my extremely specific luke-based obsessions.

this particular area where chest meets shoulder meets armpit. meg and i have trademarked it "the spot." it calls to me. so smooth and alluring. a lovely place to rest your head.

and it's interesting because most people don't have it. it's this extra bit that connects Luke's chest to his arm because his shoulders are so fucking wide. like look at this comparison of cake in the same shirt. you can see this spot on luke but it simply does not exist on calum.

and some more spot content because i can't help myself...

asdf help

[mediumgayitalian]

Will wakes up sometime around two, stumbling over to Arts & Crafts. He looks so incredibly, adorably sleepy, face creased with pillow marks and hair sticking out everywhere even worse than usual, that Nico can’t help his smile.

“Morning,” he says quietly, shifting over in the bench to make room. “Or, well, afternoon.”

“Mmfh,” Will responds. He sways on his feet, eyes still closed, so Nico has reach back and take his hand, guiding him to the seat Nico cleared for him.

“Still sleepy?”

Instead of answering, Will slumps onto his shoulder. Nico tenses for a moment, but quickly relaxes — Will is out of it. He’s a heavy weight on Nico’s side, and his breath comes out in little puffs; he’s halfway to snoring. He sets aside the clay sculpture he was making, wiping off his hands, and shifts slightly to make his shoulder more comfortable, sliding his hands in Will’s hair. After a quick glance to double check that no one’s around, he cards through the matted curls, carefully untangling the birds nest that sits currently upon his head.

“Night shift was long?”

Will groans, nuzzling deeper into Nico’s neck. Nico huffs, allowing it, turning his half-limp body so he’s practically sitting on top of him. It’s kind of a nice weight, actually. And Will is warm, slumped and half-sprawled in his lap like a freckly blanket.

“Got thrown up on three times.”

It takes Nico a second to decipher the words, mumbled as they are. His finger gets caught in a strand of Will’s hair as he winces, tugging a touch too hard. Will shivers.

“Oof.”

“Mhm. Shouldn’t complain, though. Not Cecil’s fault.” He pauses. “Well, it’s a little his fault. I told him not to mess with Billie’s garden.”

Nico smiles. “You know, it’s not the first time a Hermes kid has been poisoned for their dumbassery. You could’ve left his cabin to handle him.”

“They would do a horrible job. They might actually make him worse.”

“Yep.”

“…I can’t leave him to suffer, Neeks.”

“Hero complex,” Nico teases. “Sounds like a natural consequence to me.”

“Shhhh. I’m sleeping.”

“It’s two thirty in the afternoon, Solace.”

“Pot, kettle, et cetera.”

Nico smiles. “Only dorky people say et cetera when they’re half asleep.” He shifts, accepting that he has a lapful of head medic, now, no refunds or exchanges. It’s still, somehow, very comfortable — he feels as if he’s laying in a sun patch, under a warm, heavy blanket. Plus, Will smells like strawberries and lavender and his sandalwood shampoo. Nico could get used to it.

He does, however, subtly raise a couple skeleton to stand guard outside the gazebo — no need to get anyone gossiping. As cute as a sleepy Solace is, Nico can and will shove him to the ground the second anyone gets too close. He has a Reputation.

(He is a liar.)

“Did I miss the strawberry coffee cake this morning?”

“Yes.”

“Aw.”

Nico hums, untangling the last of his hair. Without anything for his hands to do, he slides them under Will’s hoodie, resting them in his stomach, ignoring his whining and exaggerated shiver at Nico’s ice-cold hands.

If Nico is going to function as his personal bean-bag chair, Will is going to function as his space heater. Fair’s fair.

“Saved a piece for you, though.”

He feels Will’s grin more than sees it, twisted up as they are. He feels his happy little wiggle, too, arms flailing before wrapping around Nico’s waist, thighs shifting before re-bracketing his hips.

“You’re my actual favourite.”

“Hm. I think you say that to all the boys you save you strawberry cake and let you nap on them.”

“Nah.” Will’s breathing starts to slow, body stilling as he rests his head right about Nico’s heart. He can feel his puffs of breath in his collarbone, tickling the skin under his thin t-shirt. “Just you.”

Nico flushes, more pleased than he’s willing to admit, and rests his chin on his head, watching over the strawberry fields. He checks that Will is actually asleep, and when he is, he presses a quick, darting kiss to his still-creased cheek, and smiles.

“You’re my favourite, too.”

[veryberryjelly]

flaunt it

sarah cameron x fem!reader

lyric prompt ; 'stolen kisses, pretty lies' - blank space - taylor swift

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ⚜︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

it had become normal to wake up in the arms of your girlfriend.

more often than not, the two of you would stay over at each others houses. in the last 2 months it would be easier to find the two of them sleeping in the same bed rather than finding them alone.

you had been friends with sarah for years so neither of your parents thought about it as anything other than two really good friends.

and thankfully, your parents didn't often barge into your bedroom to find the two of you tangled up in each others limbs, often in minimal clothing.

but just because it was normal to wake up with sarah, didnt make the fuzzy feeling in your chest any less present when you woke up with her body pressed against yours.

like this morning.

you woke up first, but were truly scared to move in fear of waking up the girl with her head laid against your chest.

you simply pressed a kiss to the top of her head and went to close your eyes again in hopes of sleeping for a little bit longer, but when your phone buzzed on the nightstand you knew the question would itch at your brain until you looked at it.

you eased yourself up slightly to grab your phone, flipping it in your hand to see the screen.

the pogues group chat.

jb ; heading out on the hms pogue. who's comin'

jj ; in. when ?

jb ; 9

kie ; i'm in. be there @ 9

pope ; if you can drive by, i'm in.

jb ; u got it.

kie ; sarah ? y/n ? u comin'

you knew you didnt really need to consult sarah before answering for the both of you. you both loved days out on the boat.

y/n ; i'm with sarah and we're both in! be there @ 9

as you set your phone down to try and enjoy the last few minutes before you had to wake sarah up, you felt her fidget against you, her head burrowing into the place between your shoulder and your neck.

a smile spread across your lips at the feeling of her soft skin against one of your more sensitive spots.

when you felt her lips puckering against your neck you knew she was awake.

" mornin' sunshine " you whispered, which earned you a soft sigh in response.

" you've got about 10 minutes before i pull you out of this bed."

at that she lifted her head from your shoulder and rested her head against your chest again, causing you to lift your free hand and brush her hair from her slightly confused face.

" meeting everyone at the dock at nine "

another sigh slipped from her lips before she answered. " m'kay, well can i use those ten minutes to shower ?"

two quiet laughs filled the space between you.

" as long as you plan to share with me "

a grin lit up her face as she pulled away from you and pulled you off of the mattress and across to the bathroom.

45 minutes later and the two of you were walking up to the dock where you found kiara, jj and john b waiting for the two of you.

you had dropped her hand around the corner, but picked it up again to help her onto the boat before you climbed on yourself.

once the two of you were sat down , the boat started and you all chartered to pick up pope.

and when he was finally on board, it was just the six of you and the open ocean.

30 minutes later and the boat stopped in the middle of nowhere, ready for your day out on the water to start.

the minute the boat stopped, jj pushed kie into the water and jumped in after her. john b stationed himself at the head of the boat, his legs hanging over the edge with a beer in his hand, and pope pulled out a book.

leaving you and sarah to entertain yourselves.

you were barely able to contain your laughter when you felt a head rest on your lap and you brought your attention down to the blonde head of hair scattered there.

your hand lifted to brush some hair from her face. it may have definitely lingered around her freckly cheeks.

" you got sunscreen on your pretty face ? " you questioned, unable to stop your fingertips from rubbing over her cheek.

" not yet, you wanna give it a go ?" she teased, her smile growing wider as you reached slightly to your left to grab the sunscreen from your bag.

you were never going to turn down this type of opportunity.

once you had an adequate amount of sunscreen on your hand, probably a little more than necessary, you began spreading it around on her cheeks and her nose, noticing with delight the way her nose scrunched at the cold feeling.

when her face was fully covered and protected you didnt really think about it before leaning down and pressing a short peck onto her lips.

"can i do you now ?" she questioned causing a giggle to bubble up from your chest.

" you already did me, baby. i'm too tired to do it again " you joked causing her to lightly shove your arm in jest.

" what am i looking at ? "

both yours and sarahs heads whipped towards the sound of tiaras voice, clearly directed towards you two.

" oh, yeah..." you paused for a moment, unsure if this was the right time to do this, but with a soft squeeze of your leg from sarah you were assured that she was okay with it if you were.

" we're dating. have been for about two months. " you said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

the shocked faces of your friends assured you it wasn't.

you knew this would happen eventually, that you were bound to get caught, you just didnt think it would be because you were too desperate to kiss sarah out on the boat.

" we don't really hide it, we just don't flaunt it either " sarah explained as she sat up beside you.

" yeah, why do you think she's always over at my house ?"

" i think i speak for all of us when i say we thought she was sleeping at yours because her family is batshit crazy " you weren't surprised to hear that coming from jj

" that is definitely the second reason " the blonde explained.

@greeneyesatme

[dead3ve]

Steven Meeks x gn!reader

Summary: While the sun is still warm against the cold autumn wind in September, Steven's s.o wanted to study outside. The studying turned into basking in each other's presence whilst watching the geese on the river by the school.

Warnings: They/them pronouns. Kissing. No use of y/n.

Meeks was trying to study. His hands were very against his schooling.

Meeks' left hand was in his laying partner's hair, swapping between gently removing the knots from their hair and soothingly scratching their scalp. His right hand was trying to hold the pages of his textbook flat so he could highlight the words at the same time whilst using the same hand.

Steven lifted his hand from their hair, so he could highlight the sentence without struggle. He shouldn't have done that.

"Steven," They lengthened the name, making it sound nasally and needy. "Stop doing that. You're smart enough." They turned onto their stomach as they spoke, making the sentence shake as they talked. They rested their head on Steven's thigh and looked up at him.

"You know how Hager is," Meeks smiled at them before looking down at his book. "And there is that essay Mr Keating wanted." Meeks' eyebrows pinched together as he thought of what he needed to do.

His partner noticed the list forming in his head. They pushed themself up into a seated position and made sure their thigh was touching Steven's crossed leg. They sat on their knees and moved their face closer to his focused one. They waited for him to turn. Meeks wasn't going to, as his reading was more important.

They first put their lips to Steven's freckled cheek and pressed a gentle kiss. He continued to read. Then, they put their lips to his jaw, pressing another kiss, firmer this time. Their hand made its way to the other side of Steven's face to push him into the kiss. This made Meeks turn red, but he still continued to read. Finally, they began to pepper kisses down Steven's neck and a hand had found its way to Steven's shirt buttons. This made his breath falter and his hand stop moving across the page of his book.

"Steven, you have study hall tonight." His partner was talking into his neck. Meeks could feel their warm voice against his pale, freckly neck. His top two buttons were undone at this point, their hand was placed inside of his shirt on his naked collarbone. "You have me now." After this sentence, the kisses began to be open-mouthed. Steven took a sharp breath in.

His hands were no longer in his control. They were moving up his partner's back, one holding their shoulder and the other placed around the back of their neck. Steven's thumb was smoothly caressing their neck. His hand at their shoulder moved to their jaw and brought their face to Steven's allowing their lips to meet.

The sun was warm on their skin and the Autumn breeze was cooling. Welton was in shades of red and brown with the falling of leaves. Colors that highlighted Meeks' orange.

Suddenly a flock of geese flew over the couple's heads. Steven would have been content continuing the kiss, but the geese were too distracting for his partner. Their head followed the flight and landing onto the river. They cuddled into Meeks' side, closing his book and tossing it at his feet, ensuring he wouldn't pick it back up.

Meeks turned to his partner, putting his nose into their hair. "Did you know a group of geese is called a gaggle?"

[circle--of--confusion]

Happy Halloween! Chapter 2: Perverted Are Your Wishes And Dreams

Summary: Copia and Sarah are back to his room. She finally shows him her surprise and Copia takes the lead when she gets nervous about her plan. They, well, have lots of sexy fun. As always, there's fluff at the end.

Italian help provided by the wonderful @foxybouquet

Part of the ending was inspired by one of @delulluart's Ghinktober drawings: Day 23. Their art is amazing! Check them out if you haven't.

Paring: Cardinal Copia | Dracopia X OC [Sarah]

Words: 5.9k

Tags: mature/explicit! Established relationship, roleplay [copia calls himself "papa"]; Smut; oral sex[m and f receiving], dom/sub undertones, safe word discussion; vaginal sex, doggy style, face-sitting, squirting, over stimulation, aftercare, fluff, blood drinking

I... This is probably the filthiest thing i've written. ENJOY!

Read on AO3

PART 1

Masterlist

When they returned to Copia’s apartment, their lips were already bruised and puffy from a passionate make-out he initiated in front of his door; he was unable to wait until they retreated inside before beginning his horny rampage. When he saw his door, Copia grabbed Sarah and pushed her back against it with a thud, leaning in to capture her lips with his, biting lightly and taking her lips in his teeth as he pushes his body to hers. She nearly drops the pellegrina in her hands, overcome with the press of his hips to hers. Sarah gasps when she feels the hardness between his legs as he slowly grinds on her. His hand desperately hits around his door behind her, looking for the handle to twist open so they can go inside.

Once inside, Copia pawed his hands around her dress, tugging and pinching anywhere he could find to figure out how to take it off so he could see the prize underneath. Sarah pleaded for him to step back so she could remove it herself, asking if she could go to the bathroom to take it off and walk out to give a grand reveal. She managed to convince him by saying he could pass the time and undress himself while she was away for the short pause.

“Keep the cape, though.” Sarah said with a wink before she closed the door.

Removing her shoes, cassock dress, the borrowed necklace, and biretta headband, Sarah left everything else on. The fixes the bra and garter belt and smooths out the stockings. She can’t wait ‘till she gets all of this mesh off of her body if she’s being honest. Her hands tug at the gloves, fidgeting. Stalling; now aware that she has to face the music. She gives herself a silent pep talk and runs her hands through her hair to comb it out a bit after she removed her dress. The black lip line Sarah put on is now long gone and she debates reapplying, pursing her lips in the mirror as she thinks about it.

There’s a knock on the door and Sarah jumps.

Copia’s muffled voice sounds through the door. “Sarah? Is everything ok, amore mio?”

“Yes! I was just… giving you time to undress!” Damn his vampiric senses she thinks as she shakes her head.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight, if you’ve changed your mind.”

Sarah smiles fondly to herself. “No! It’s fine I just… got nervous. Not in a bad way of course!” She wanted to be a temptress tonight and now she just feels timid.

“Put on my robe. You can take it off after you step out and we can do it together.” Copia suggests. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea and she moves to grab the blue satin robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door.

After tying the belt around her, leaving a small teaser of the top of a bra cup visible with an off-shoulder look, she puts her hand on the door handle and turns it, cracking the door open until she can be seen fully in front of him. She slides her hand slowly up the door frame and leans against it, propping her other hand on her waist in an attempt to look seductive. “Hello, Copia.” She finds him looking back at her with a loving gaze, wearing nothing but the cape. When Sarah’s eyes wander down his body, admiring his freckly skin and soft hairy chest, she blushes lightly at the sight of his cock. He’s very hard and flushed a similar shade of red. Their extended foreplay tonight has left him leaking around the tip and she wants so badly to reach out and touch him but her hands are frozen in their places.

Copia smiles, reaching out to one of the belt ends. He knows that one slight tug would undo the knot so he looks to Sarah for a go-ahead. He nods his head to the side, asking for her to move out of the doorway and further into the room. It feels like their first time together, excited anticipation fills the room and by Satan he’s going to make sure she feels comfortable with whatever they do.

Copia wiggles the satin tie and looks up into Sarah’s eyes. “May I?” he asks and she nods. He pulls, the knot coming undone with the barest of tugs. He moves the belt out of the way, letting the fabric fall open naturally around her. The sliver of mesh he sees is enough to have him let out a groan. His already hard cock standing at attention throbs at the sight. Copia involuntarily bites his lip as his eyes flick up and down her body. The more satin he pushes aside, the heavier his breathing gets. “Bellissima angelo.” Copia’s hands rise to cup her face and the soft, smooth leather on her skin makes Sarah close her eyes.

She lets out an unexpected breath of relief. Sarah may not know a ton of Italian, but she definitely understood the gist of what he just said. “Kiss me, please, Copia.” He obliges, surging forward with a breath-stealing kiss to her lips. They lick into each other’s mouths, getting lost in the delicate yet excited show of affection. Sarah’s hands grab on to the sides of the cape as he pours his love into her. They soon part, Sarah needing to breathe more air into her lungs. Copia’s begins to push the robe off of her body and in seconds the fabric pools around her feet like a satiny puddle.

There’s a shift in Copia’s eyes and she can see it, feel it as he moves to hold her hand. He takes charge, pulling her to the bed to sit on the edge. All Sarah can do is watch as he grabs her still gloved hand, rising it before saying “Can you see, amore mio?”; he politely spits in her hand and wraps her palm over the head of his cock, closing it down around him. He slowly spreads his leaking precome and spit around the tip before moving down to stroke over his shaft. He jumps slightly from the light touch and the slow glide he’s set helps to bring some relief to him. His hand on hers, Copia sets the pace while she stares up at him in wonder. “Senti che duro che sono per te.” he breathes deep. “Feel, ah, what you do to me by simply existing as you are. You don’t need to do anything for me to want you.” His voice is raspy, already losing composure.

Sarah licks her lips and clears her throat. “I wanted to be good for you; to do something sexy and new tonight for us.” She experiments, wiggling her fingers around him and he hums, stuttering low in his chest as she continues to slide up and down around him. But I got scared.

Copia’s hand constricts hers around his cock just a bit more and he leans his head back with a gravely sigh. Sarah’s hand covered in leather feels different on him than if it were his. He’s familiar with the sensation from his own gloved hand but her nimble fingers make Copia’s eyes roll back slightly as she strokes easily around him. “You’re always so good for me, yes. Such a good Cardinal…” he curses, feeling lightheaded as his orgasm builds. “So good for your Papa.” Copia chuckles low at the small surprised gasp that escapes Sarah’s lips while her hand falters.

“Papa?” Her eyes are wide open, mouth parted slightly.

“Yes.” Copia pants, feeling his cock twitch. He’s so close after finally having her hands on him from a night of relentless teasing. “Papa Emeritus the Fourth. And you, my devoted, doting cardinal, should receive my first unholy communion.” His free hand moves to cup her face, his thumb sliding to Sarah’s parted lips. He looks down to find her trembling in anticipation and the smell of her arousal floats around him, spurring him on. Filthy little thing, she’s so into it he thinks. “However, I don’t think you’re showing me enough reverence, Cardinal. I need you to show me you mean it.”

“I-“ she swallows. A soft whine leaves her lips. “I would be so honored, Papa.” Sarah breathes. An jolt of pleasure is shot down to her cunt as a heat pools in her stomach. He’s exuding the power and confidence a would-be Papa should poses and she’s very attracted to it, to him. His eyes burn into hers and she can’t look away; Sarah thinks she can feel his green and white irises on her skin as he watches her below.

Copia’s thumb rubs some of her saliva around her lips, coaxing them to open wide. “Then beg me for it.” He growls, his voice lowering as he looks deep into her eyes.

“Oh, please.” Sarah brings her other hand up, moving them into a praying hands gesture as she takes over pumping around him. His hips shift forward, following the direction of her palms, resting the head of his cock in front of her lips and she leans forward to give it a few tentative licks, then moving to place tender, open-mouthed kisses around him while maintaining eye contact with Copia. Whispered pleas leave her lips in-between loving kisses.

Sarah hums around his salty taste as she closes her eyes and Copia rumbles a deep, toe-curling moan as he leans back, thrusting slightly towards her mouth. Between the pleasure of her lips and hands on him, he feels the tight coil of pleasure ready to burst. “Open, C-Cardinal, and receive m-my ah! Cazzo!” The coil springs free as he unloads a thick stream of come onto Sarah’s tongue. His breaths come gravely as Copia’s body is overtaken by a warm buzz spreading from head to toe as pleasure takes over.

She swallows as much of his release as she can, whispering a few soft “Thank you”s against the tip of his cock as she massages her palms around Copia, helping to soothe him through his high. Sarah looks up with a messy smile as she caresses him, finding Copia to be grinning with his head leaning back as he breathes through the sensations.

“Thank you, tesoro mio.” Copia softly strokes her cheek before moving his hands back over hers, stopping her hands before removing them. He drops down unceremoniously onto his knees, cringing lightly at one of his joints popping and Sarah laughs, a small bubble of happiness that he cherishes nonetheless. Copia holds her face with delicate hands as he leans in to kiss her, tasting his spend on her tongue as he quietly thanks her for her devotion once again.

He leans to the side, grabbing a few tissues from the nightstand and wipes her face to clear off the rest of his come. A small kiss is placed on her cheek and he lifts Sarah’s hands in front of him, biting his teeth down in the tip of her index finger. Slowly, he drags the supple leather from her hands and does the same to his. “Should we get this off?” Copia asks, tracing his finger along the top of her bra cup.

“There’s a clasp, behind.” Sarah rasps, pointing behind her back. He nods, leaning in to kiss her again while he reaches behind her back to undo the hooks and quickly the contraption falls limp in front of her. He tugs it away, pressing his lips to the free expanse of skin. “Copia.” She breathes, leaning her head back, pulling him closer as he kisses down from her shoulder to sternum. He tilts his head to the side to place small pecks on either side of her breasts, dragging his fangs across the soft, sensitive skin as he moves his mouth around her chest. She giggles as she feels Copia’s mustache tickle on her once again while he worships her.

“Lie back for me.” Copia whispers, nudging her to fall back into the mattress, leaving her legs bent over the side, spread open for him to move closer. Copia can see the shiny collection of her desire through the fabric of her panties, and he leans in, mouthing at the taste. Sarah whimpers above him when she feels the vibrations of his hum and he smiles, his hands moving up to grip her hips. He tugs lightly at the waistband as he pulls back slightly. “What about these?”

“Sna-aps!” Sarah yelps, not expecting Copia to lean back down to lick and suck on her through the fabric. “T-there’s snaps on the sides. They should come, ohhmmmm, come apart with a light tug.” She grips the sheets tightly in her fists as he leans in further, building up her frustration. Her hips buck in small movements against his teasing mouth.

Copia leans back, smiling at the state of Sarah. Eyes closed, face scrunched, and her hips fidgeting now from the lack of contact. “Perfect. I don’t have to take these off to remove your underwear.” He strokes his hand across the garter belt and stockings. “I’d like to keep them for now.” Copia grins wickedly.

The waistband of her panties come apart with ease and he slides them off. Copia licks up the inside fabric, the side that went directly onto her skin, and inhales the unmistakable, intoxicating scent of her. He lifts her foot, pressing gentle kisses around her ankle and grazing over her soft mesh-covered leg with care. As he rises up her legs, his teeth press down, biting the plush skin of her thigh where she isn’t covered by fabric. He breaks skin, tasting the divine flavor of her blood and Sarah cries out a choked “Copia…”

His tongue laves at her bite as he drinks and Sarah can only let out soft mewls of pleasure-laced pain as the venom kicks in. Sarah grows wetter as Copia places a soft, appreciative kiss to the bite mark before beginning to roam his mouth elsewhere. He leaves faint bloody kisses in his path, drawing a trail up to her stomach.

He’s nearly hard again after recuperating from his first orgasm and he could come undone again from the taste of Sarah’s blood on his tongue but it’s the sight that greets him when he looks back down that has him twitching. With her legs spread open, he can see the enticing, glistening folds of her pussy and Copia dives right in, a sharp yelp of surprised pleasure squeaking out from Sarah as he licks and sucks her sweet juices straight from the source. Her hands shoot to his head, carding her fingers into his hair before she grips some his gray and brown strands for stability.

“Copia! Please…” Sarah whines as she rolls her hips towards him. His mouth slides down for his lips to roam around the entrance to her cunt. He pokes over it with a strong tongue while one of his hands rise to run his fingers over her clit for extra stimulation. “Fuck me! Don’t stop, please it feels so good. Don’t stop.” She cries out.

Copia’s other hand grips her hip holding on for leverage as he digs in further. He sucks and licks in a lust-fueled frenzy as her orgasm builds and builds until she’s spasming around his tongue with a high shout. Her thighs close in around Copia’s head as she rides up against his face, using him like an object to extend her bliss as she arches up from the bed. He hums around her, pleasured by the greedy way she’s using him to get off while he moves his head as much as he can with her hips. Copia’s mouth retreats when she opens her legs with an exhausted huff. He places tender pecks to her lips and clit as her breathing settles, the occasional whimper leaving her as she feels his mouth and now wet mustache over her over sensitive pussy.

He sits back, wiping his mouth. “Delicious, amore mio.” Copia smacks his mouth as he cleans his fingers. “I think I could go for seconds!”

He looks forward, hungry, baring his fangs with a dirty smile. With a surprising surge of energy, Sarah lifts herself onto her arms and moves further up into bed, turning to her stomach to crawl away. Her pussy is too sensitive! She couldn’t take any more right now! Copia laughs lowly behind her as she attempts to escape his amorous wrath, crawling behind her onto the mattress. She yelps, tired arms giving way to her weight and she falls forward as Copia grabs her by the hips from behind.

“Relax, I’ve got you.” Copia assures as he angles her ass up from the bed. His hand rubs over her back in soothing circles while he shushes her. “You wanted to be good for me, yes?” He asks her softly.

Sarah nods her head below. “Yes.” She mumbles into the sheets.

His hand glides lower down her back, veering to the side to softly squeeze over her ass cheek. She squeaks out and he laughs. “You know I wouldn’t ever hurt you, right? And you know what to do if I am?”

She nods. “I’m green, trust me. I just didn’t think I could handle more in that moment.”

“Bene.” Copia lightly taps lower down her cheek, smiling at the giggle that comes from Sarah’s mouth. “Are you ready now?” He leans forward, sliding his once again hard cock through her folds.

Sarah’s mouth opens slightly as a small moan comes out while she nods. “Yes, please, Copia. I want to feel you lingering on me when you’re not there.”

He grins behind her, settling in with his knees on the bed. “With pleasure.” Copia takes himself in hand and angles the head of his cock to the entrance of her plush, wet cunt. They revel in unison as he slowly pushes in, savoring the stretch his tongue could only dream of earlier. “You’re a gift from Satan, I’m sure of it at this point. How else would I have you in my life?” Copia’s head tilts back as he becomes lost in the feeling of her warm and snug around him. This angle deep inside her has him repeating Sarah’s name softly as if in prayer.

She pushes back slightly in a subtle attempt of friction and Copia halts her hips. He snaps one of Sarah’s garter straps against her skin and she squeaks. He grins behind her, letting out a dirty chuckle at her annoyed desperation. “Please move.” She whispers in frustration.

Copia grips her hips with a firm hand. “I hear you loud and clear, dolcezza.” He drags his cock back slowly before rolling his hips forward in with a sharp snap. She whines below, dropping her body further to the mattress. “Like that?” She ekes out a yes and he continues; a deep, gravely breath leaves him as he leans forward to put more of his weight into each thrust.

Each time he pushes back in, the force snaps the headboard against the wall and she feels the edges of his cape swatting against her legs. The small, soft touches of the cape’s fabric and the hair on his body to her skin contrast with the bruising hold Copia’s hands have on her. He bends down, lips pressing into any bit of her skin he can reach. Just under her shoulder, he latches on and bites down, drawing more blood to drink from her as he fucks deep into her cunt. He envelopes Sarah, covering her entire body with his while they groan together in pleasure. Copia’s arms wrap around her, clinging to her in their shared passion.

Sarah feels like she’s not in her body; all of her nerves tingle with a quickly approaching orgasm once again. More venom courses through her veins, heightening her senses while the delicious drag of Copia’s cock has her head spinning. She’s on the verge of tears from the sensations along with how much she needs to come again. “Please, I need to come.” She sniffles, whimpering out to him. He licks at her bite, soothing the markings before righting himself up with a groan. She feels a bead of sweat run down her forehead as their bodies work up a sweat and when Sarah looks down to the sheets, her eyeliner has smudged into the fabric.

Copia picks up speed, exemplified by the quicker slaps of the headboard hitting the wall and by now there are the beginnings of scuff marks on the paint. His hand snakes down to rub against her sopping clit and she just about cries in relief. The sounds of his skin slapping hers as he rocks into her fill the room along with the squelching sounds of Copia circling Sarah’s aching clit. Powerful flutters of her walls signal the end.

“I’ve got you, amore mio. Come for me.” Copia soothes and she clenches around him, wanton moans leaving her mouth and he coaxes more to let her fall over.

A roaring, hoarse scream lets go from Sarah, overcome by ecstasy that hits her like a freight train while she grips the sheets. She pushes back, riding out the high and feels Copia twitching in her, desperate to let go. “Please, Copia. Let me feel you, too. Ti prego.” She pleads, knowing he can’t be far behind.

The use of Italian catches him off guard as he pants, so close to his end.  “Almost. There… AH!” His cock kicks, shooting thick, forceful ropes of his come deep into her pussy as they both groan. He rocks at a chaotic pace, no rhythm whatsoever as he chases his own bliss. Sarah wiggles against him, begging for him to stop as her nerves create painful jolts of pleasure through her body.

Copia stills, letting them float down slowly from euphoria. He brings his fingers up to taste the mixture of her come along with some of his that leaked out, and he hums. His other hand rubs soothing circles once again down her back and hips and Sarah sighs. “You’re not done, are you?” She claims.

Copia laughs lightly. “You know me so well.” He pulls from her after he feels himself soften and they both let out soft sighs of pleasure as he drags his cock out; Sarah hums out a surprised noise when an aftershock rolls through her. Copia watches their come leak out slowly and his hand goes up to trap it against her pussy. Sarah gasps and tries to move away from his fingers. “You think you can give me one more?” His other hand moves to softly soothe her hip where he gripped her. “All you have to do is sit on my face, amore mio. I need to know how we taste together.” Copia says it so simply that it takes a few seconds for Sarah’s mind to process his words. While she takes in the request, he finally removes the cape and lays it down at the foot of the bed.

She chuckles incredulously below. “I’m not sure my legs will work, mio caro.”

He smiles, helping Sarah to sit up and scoots her up the mattress on their knees. “Stay there.” Copia says softly, kissing her cheek and placing her hands to the headboard. His palms slide from her hands over her arms to squeeze lightly at Sarah’s shoulders before removing them from her. After lowering himself onto his back next to her thighs, Copia settles in and taps his chest a couple times, signaling that he’s ready. Sarah moves tentatively, shuddering slightly at the feeling of their shared orgasms seeping out as she spreads her legs to sit over his body. He helps her get situated on his chest and slowly he nudges her from behind to move up. Sarah hesitates to sit her whole body weight down onto him as she’s nudged up.

“I’ll be fine, Sarah.” His hand rubs soothing circles on her hips. “If I die, I will die with the pussy of the woman I love in my mouth. What a way to go!” He playfully bites towards her and smiles, showing off his fangs.

She rolls her eyes while Copia forces her down and his mouth latches directly to her lips. “Oh! Copia!” Sarah grips the headboard to keep herself up in shock.

He mumbles below her and she can’t discern what he said but he sounded happy. Below, he shifts her around however he needs, nudging her further up so he can tongue into her cunt. He laps up their mixed come, digging further into her. Sarah gasps at how deep his tongue feels inside her and her face scrunches together when his mouth vibrates as he groans from the way they taste.

This orgasm will be quicker to build up to for Sarah, she realizes, and powerful. She grinds down involuntarily against his mouth, swiveling her hips to match the pulsing of her pussy. His nose brushes slightly against her clit and she cries out, leaning back from the sharp jolt of pleasure it sent to her cunt. Copia squeezes her thighs, tapping a couple times as a sign to keep going and she slowly rocks forward again, nudging her clit lightly to the tip of his nose. Sarah prays a silent thanks to Lucifer or whomever was in charge of putting this man in her path as his tongue massages her inner walls while she rides his face. If she were a betting woman, she’d put money on his tongue growing several inches in length as he probes deeper than he normally could.

“Fuck me, Copia.” she shudders out a breathy moan. “I’m nearly there, oh please! I’m gonna co- oh fuck!” Sarah’s thighs clench around his head like a vice, squeezing him in-between her thighs once again as she comes with a violent force. Sarah leans back to hold herself up on her hands, angling off slightly when she feels his mouth vibrate underneath once more and she just keeps coming, rolling her hips through the spasms of her pussy. She feels a strong gush of fluids squirt out from her and Copia laps up everything she can give to him. Sarah falls over, losing balance as she thuds to the mattress on her back with her legs spread open, still feeling short pulses in her walls from her last orgasm.

“Amore mio…” Copia rasps as he moves to follow her, lunging forward to slurp up all her pussy can give. “I could live here for the rest of my life.” he moans as he drinks what he would call “The most delectable of wines and the finest of nectars.” His mouth latches on and his arms wrap around her thighs keeping her body in place.

Sarah thinks he’ll never let go; convinced she will be forced to live the rest of her days with Copia’s head between her legs. She can’t decide in this moment if it’s heaven or hell as a quiet orgasm spreads through her body from his sucks on her clit, surprising Sarah as she comes again on Copia’s tongue. She arches up from the bed, an exhausted moan leaving her lips while she rides out the wave of warm pleasure and drops to the bed, boneless.

When she can’t take anymore, crying out and wincing from true, painful oversensitivity, she swats at him to get off. “Please…” Sarah’s eyes squeeze shut. “I can’t… No more, Copia, please.” She drifts in and out for a few minutes as he places delicate kisses around her body, whispering praises for being so good for him tonight.

“I don’t think I could ever get enough of you.” Copia coos down at her.

“I think… at one point… your tongue grew at least three inches down there.” Sarah looks up at the ceiling in a daze, humming lightly; small aftershocks ripple through her cunt as she lies in bed unable to move.

Copia breathes out a fond laugh. “Call it a gift from Lucifer for our creative devotion tonight.” He rubs circles over her hip and begins to remove the garter belt and stockings, finally. His fingers soothe over the indents they made into her skin

“I don’t think I can move.” Sarah replies flatly. He chuckles lightly at her dramatics.

Copia brings a wet cloth and some sanitizing wipes for her bites, cleaning and tending to her as she lies in bed, motionless. The only sign of life he has is the slow, steady rise and fall of Sarah’s chest as she breathes. Once he’s done with her, he cleans himself and goes to lie next to her spot on his side. She turns her head to look at him as he extends an arm across her stomach.

Copia smiles, dragging his finger over her skin in random patterns. “How are you feeling, amore mio?”

Sarah tiredly grins back and raises her eyebrows. “Spent.” She chuckles and turns to look up to the ceiling. “Like I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet.” she brings a hand up to cup his face and look into his eyes. “You?”

“Very satisfied, yes.” he leans in to press a light kiss to the corner of her shoulder. “Would you be open to a bath?”

She thinks for a second and then nods. “Yes, but you may need to carry me to the tub.” Sarah grins and Copia laughs.

He smiles warmly back at her and nods. “Wait here. I’ll get it ready.”

Sarah frowns at the lack of his touch when he gets up to run the bath. She counts the seconds until she can be touching him again, to be in his embrace as they cuddle in the warm water. Copia adds calming oils as the tub fills and the smells waft into his room where she rests. Once the bath is ready, he offers to actually carry Sarah to the tub but she declines, feeling a bit more strength in her body to walk for herself. She holds on tight to Copia as they walk and when he settles in the tub, she carefully steps in and sits down in his lap so they can face each other.

Copia and Sarah sit embraced in a comfortable silence. Her head rests in the crook of his neck under his chin while one hand touches his chest and the other plays with the ends of his hair on the back of his head. Copia’s hands rest low on her back, thumbs rubbing small circles on the skin he can reach. They sigh, adjusting occasionally as the water soothes their bodies. Every now and then they’ll place small kisses on each other, sometimes moving their heads just enough so they can kiss on the lips. Each one is exchanged as a slow, lethargic press while they let the warm water envelope them in the tub.

Once their bath is over, they carefully dry off and walk back to lay in bed. Copia moves to get dressed but Sarah stops him, blushing as she grabs his hand, asking if they could lie together naked. She softly rubs his palm before going to say “I just want to keep feeling you like this, skin on skin.”

“Can I at least put on underwear so I’m not dangling around?” Copia sheepishly asks. She nods, moving to grab a pair for herself.

They return to each other and move to the bed; Copia lays down on his back with an arm out and Sarah lays on her side, tangling her leg in his under the covers and he wraps the arm around he. She drapes her hand on his stomach and he covers it with his other hand. They look into each other’s eyes, enjoying the now softer touches compared to what was happening earlier in the night. The room fills with silence, only their breaths sound off in the room as they gaze over one another. Sarah’s eyes scan over his face, admiring the dusting of freckles over his skin and grins at Copia’s mouth, enjoying the view of his fangs as they poke out of his smile. When he notices where her eyes have landed, he winks.

“Tonight was fun.” Sarah eventually breaks the silence, sighing.

Copia chuckles lightly. “You’re calling all of what we did together just fun? I must need to step up my game.”

She blushes, leaning to hide her face in his shoulder. “Well, yes the sex was great, amazing but I meant the whole night, Copia.” Sarah looks up at him.

He leans his head back. “Ahhh! Yes, the party earlier was excellent. Some of the costumes I saw tonight were very inventive.” he tilts his head back forward. “Especially you, my Cardinal.” Copia softly squeezes her hand and she wiggles.

Sarah gives him a sheepish smile. “So, you liked it?”

He looks at her incredulously. “I wanted to rip that pellegrina to shreds so I could see the rest of you below. And oh those fake teeth nearly had me lunging towards you.”

“It probably wouldn’t have been wise to damage the pellegrina. I, uh, nabbed it from your closet.” She admits.

Copia’s eyes go wide in realization as he moves to look at her fully “That’s where it went? You know that I’ve been looking for it for a week! I’ve had to wear the other red one and it’s different.” he moves to grip her hip tight for a moment and Sarah squeals. “Sneaky, sneaky, my Cardinal.”

Sarah blushes, looking into his eyes. “Speaking of… Papa?”

It’s now Copia’s face that turns red. “Right. About that…”

“Before you say anything, Copia, I want to say that… I liked it. You were so captivating.” she moves his hand on her and presses a small kiss to his knuckles, continuing in a small voice. “And you helped me get over my nerves.”

“I was worried, at first, that I leaned in a bit too much with the role-playing.”

“Do you, uh.” she pauses. “Is that ever going to happen? Have they told you anything?”

“Nothing so far.” he squeezes her hand before letting go. “But the leader of the band is always Papa. I think maybe right now is a trial run to see if I can handle the mitre.”

She hums, staring at his face. Her finger trails around his skin where a skull design would go. “I’m trying to imagine you with the paint.” Sarah pouts. “I probably wouldn’t be able to kiss you as much. I’d smudge.” She holds his face in her palm and Copia smiles at her.

“I fully intend on getting my kisses. I’ll just walk around with an emergency paint kit.” Sarah laughs, lightness in her chest and it makes him smile.

“That’s so impractical.”

He grins, swatting the air. “Well, I will probably have time to figure out the solution. I’ll ask the other Papas.” Sarah yawns, snuggling in further to the bed and looks back up to him with sleepy eyes. “Are you getting tired? We should probably go to sleep, amore mio.”

She shakes her head, another yawn betraying her. “I don’t want this night to end.” Copia helps to move her to lay on his chest. “I want to stay like this forever.” Her arm wraps around him and she presses a light kiss to his body. Sarah closes her eyes when she feels Copia rubbing his hand on her back.

He softly kisses to her hair, humming as she sighs into him. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

“Happy Halloween, Copia…” she mumbles, sleep quickly overtaking her.

Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it!

*Translations* Bellissima angelo. [beautiful angel.] Senti che duro che sono per te. [feel how hard I am for you] tesoro mio [my treasure] Bene [good] Ti prego [I beg you] Mio Caro [my dear] amore mio [my love]

[kellycataclysm]

B

C

D

I

W

M

Ooooo! Thank you! Such good letters here! You didn't say sweet or spicy so I did a mix of the two. Settle in as this is a long one!

D is for Domestic. Both Lyra and Harvey were ready to settle down, even if she didn’t really know it until she met him. He comes from a loving home, an only child to supportive parents, so it was something he wanted for himself. While the valley is a lot quieter than the outer suburbs of the city where he grew up, he wanted the kind of family life where his children could have a dog, play outside. Porch swing and white picket fence, the whole nine yards. She also comes from a supportive family, also hoping to find that in a relationship. They’re both working so hard to have that now. In spite of their problems, which were about intimacy and communication, both of them take an equal share in running the home. Harvey enjoys his routine and loves making family breakfast on the weekends. Both of them are tidy people, but their home often has books everywhere, as they are avid readers. Let’s also remember that they have a child and there are toys around the place, but they would rather see toys on the floor than not as it means Evie is having fun. 

C was answered here and here.

I is for I Love You. Anyone who has read the long fic and Ask Me Anything (which might one of my favourite things I’ve written) would know that even though Lyra and Harvey started as friends, they were attracted to each other from the start. Slowly, as they spent more time together they began to develop real feelings for each other. By the time of AMA they were clearly head over heels. But they had been hurt before and definitely saw value in having a good friend in the valley, both having left their entire lives behind to start again. So rather than jeopardise that, it took them a while to make a move. Once they did, they fell hard and fast. (Yes, they slept together after their first date, just a week after their first kiss.) However, it took them a little longer to say those three little words. Lyra, being a little more spontaneous and a little less cautious asked Harvey to kiss her and then was also the first one to say the words. They first kissed around seven months after first meeting and around two months later said ‘I love you’. Harvey proposed just a few weeks later. After those first cautious months, they very much rushed in to everything else, almost afraid of letting the other slip away. 

B is for Body Part. Lyra has freckly skin and Harvey absolutely loves to brush her hair behind her ear, very delicately and slowly trace his fingertip along her ear, pausing at those star earrings, down her neck, following the action with featherlight kisses along to her shoulders. He also can’t get enough of the soft skin on her back, running his fingertips up and down her spine. He is borderline obsessed with her back and shoulders. She knows all of this, so being the flirtatious tease that she is, often chooses clothes that will show off her shoulders and back, like the beautiful green silk dress she wore for their New Years Eve in the city.

Harvey is tall with broad shoulders and a delicious hairy chest. Lyra is a swooning mess at the sight of him without a shirt, immediately coming in close to lightly scratch her fingernails through his chest hair and down the little happy trail that runs south from his belly button… 

Is Harvey a boob or an ass man? He’s both. Lyra is relatively slim but has some curves, so he loves to smooth his hands over her hips before going in for a quick squeeze of her ass. He is spectacularly handsy, so you can be sure that he’s going in for a boob grab when they’re all snuggled up under the covers. 

M is for Motivation - what turns them on? Many things. Physical touch. Those gentle caresses, a fingertip running over soft skin. A deep and passionate kiss that makes their head spin. A spark in the eye that says exactly what they’re thinking. Flirtatious banter, which in the case of these two is often the most dorky humour that makes them both laugh, followed by the sweetest praise and the dirtiest talk. A romantic setting. A special outfit. Lyra and Harvey, you can both go straight to horny jail. (No it’s fine, I’ll let them keep having some fun.)

W is for Wild Card - Praise kink. He calls her a ‘Good Girl’ she all but disintegrates. She would let him do almost anything. Which leads to his voice. Harvey is polite, smart and well-spoken. He will whisper praise as sweet as honey, his lips pressed gently to her skin, almost writing poetry on her body with his words. He also has a delightful tone of authority that he will use from time to time and hoo boy, her cheeks will become dusted pink and she will listen. Read Mirror Mirror for the moment he says the words ‘Eyes on me’ and you’ll see how she feels. As for Harvey, he loves to hear that he is giving her what she needs. At her words, he will become so flustered, so eager to please. Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing, so there’s no problem there.

(Side note - I am really feeling that I want to write something where Lyra is the one in control. How do we feel about that? Maybe after I write Harvey’s Birthday?)

Thank you so much for sending these in. I had so much fun writing them!

[corgiteatime]

So this post was inspired by Astarion but it's not about him.

When I booted up BG3 for the first time, I encountered this stupid vampire elf and the second the camera closed in on his face, I started cracking up and laughing maniacally. Because he is an albino (vampire) and he is very obviously wearing mascara and eyeliner.

And that reminded me of a fun childhood memory. (It's a non-story. Lowest stakes in the world.)

One of my childhood friends in the 90s was a girl who had albinism. (She would get mad if you called her that and said she was leucistic because she had blue eyes, not red, but as an adult she found out she does have albinism. It was the 90s. You just heard a wrong fact from an adult at some point and believed that for 20 years.) White hair, pale skin, blue eyes, light sensitive. Keep in mind: She is also the only person in her family with albinism.

Let's call her Ashley. Not her real name.

Ashley's family was very religious. Very Christian. Not unusual in our rural area. (Don't worry. This is not a traumatic story.)

One of her family's rules were that girls could not wear make up until they were 16.

Of course, that just made her want to try wearing make up more than anything at 12 years old.

One summer day, I go over at her house for a sleepover. I've smuggled (aka put in my llbean backpack with my clothes) make up that I bought from Claire's with my birthday money. Ashley snuck into her mom's bathroom and pilfered make up that she wanted to try.

We spend the afternoon in the hot air condition-less bedroom trying to figure out how to put on make up. A handful of issues of Seventeen were our guide. It was 1998 so there was a lot of glitter and blue eye shadow involved. All of it badly applied but we were having a lot of fun trying to help each other.

Ashley decided she wanted to put on black mascara and eyeliner. She quickly realizes that a person with white eyelashes looks like they very obviously are wearing make up if they use black. It looked ridiculous and she was annoyed about it because she'd never seen mascara in any color except black or brown. She tries putting it on me and it looks a little better because I am pale and freckly but have dark hair and eyelashes.

Then Ashley's mom calls us down to set the table for dinner.

Ashley grumbles because we have to wash off all our hard work before her mom sees.

Except... the eyeliner and mascara don't wash off.

It's waterproof.

We panic and scrub at our faces but we don't know how to get it off. Ashley's mom is yelling at us to come downstairs, why are we dawdling, she's busy cooking, the least we could do is set the table, etc.

Ashley is panicked. She knows she has to go downstairs and she knows how obvious she's been putting on The Forbidden Make Up. Oh god oh god oh god. I debate trying to jump out of a second story window and sprint for home. I'm 10 miles from home across a major highway but I bet I could manage.

Eventually we go downstairs. Faces turned down, trying not to meet Ashley's mom's eyes. We start setting the table and hope that no one will notice. We'll eat quick and leave the table ASAP.

Of course Ashley's mom catches sight of her daughter's suddenly black eyelashes and freezes.

"Soooooo, what were you girls up to up there?" she asks, clearly trying to keep from smiling.

"Nothing," I say automatically.

"Reading the Bible," says Ashley.

"Really? Nothing you want to tell me about?" her mom says, now totally failing to suppress a smile. Her shoulders are shaking with a silent giggle.

"Nothing!" we say in unison.

Then Ashley's mom bursts into laughter.

The thing is Ashley's mom has the loudest and most distinct laugh. You can hear it a mile away. You can instantly pinpoint where she is in any store or a major crowd if she laughs. She sounds like an asthmatic donkey laughing in reverse and it is the loudest sound a human being can make. It is one of the funniest sounds I've heard in my life. 30 years later and if I think about how her laugh sounded, I start laughing.

Ashley's mom is laughing and that makes me want to laugh. So I'm standing there, face down, trying so hard not to laugh. I know that if I laugh Ashley will never forgive me. I'm literally shaking from trying to surpass the urge to laugh. I can't breathe. I am going to die if I don't laugh.

Ashley looks like she wants to melt into the floor. We were both goody-two-shoe kids who hated the idea of ever getting in trouble or disappointing adults so this was worst case scenario for her.

Ashley's mom finally finishes her hilarious sounding laughing fit and pats us on the head. She gently chides us for lying but says she'll finish cooking and take us upstairs to help us get the make up off. No one is in any real trouble. She even promises that we're not in trouble and she'll teach us how to put on make up on her next day off, despite the "no make up before 16" rule.

Of course, 30 seconds after Ashley's mom calms us down, Ashley's dad walks in, takes one look at his daughter's smeared face, and says, "What in the world happened?!"

Anyway, thanks Astarion for reminding me of a very specific childhood memory. This immediately endeared me to your dumb ass.

[g0ttal0ve101]

Doctor in the House

Prompt: Sick

Ship: Caria

Note: THEY’RE SO SPECIAL TO ME…. tw: suggestive :3

████████████████████

Everything was hot no matter what Mia did. Pulled the covers off? Still hot. Opened the window? Still hot. Pulled her hair up? Still hot. Even taking a cold shower didn’t fix the heat that she felt in her head. The only thing that could regulate her temperature was the loving palm of her boyfriend’s hand.

With her head rested on his lap, she observed him play video games for the hundredth time, his fingers lingering in her hair as he waited for the load screen to flash into gameplay. Mia enjoyed listening to his humorous commentary and watching him kill tons of players without breaking a sweat, but it wasn’t quite what she wanted. Mia hates having to ask for what she wanted. So, without reason or cause, she randomly sat up and playfully shoved Carl off the bed with a thump to the floor, killing his character instantly on the screen.

“Miaaa…” He groaned, dusting his clothes and shutting the game off. His hand-me-down pajama pants sagged off his waist quite a bit, revealing his alien boxers as he stood in front of the bed. Being as comfortable as he was with her, he didn’t bother to check if they were sagging or even put a shirt on to hide his skinny, freckly body. “You could’ve just asked for my attention. I wouldn’t have laughed.”

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her in for a lengthy embrace. Mia rested her forehead against his collarbone with a smile, muffling the heat that rose in her skull every three seconds. Carl’s freckled skin was the cure to her illness. Shit, Carl’s freckled skin was the cure to everything.

“You’re really hot, honey.” Carl worriedly muttered, stroking her blonde locks of hair with the back of his hand. He half-expected her to reply with a playful ‘I know I am’ and return to her normal self, but she remained silent instead. His heart throbbed realizing how much she must be suffering if she didn’t have a sense of humor. “I think we should give you some more medicine.”

“Fuck…” Mia groaned and rolled her eyes, flopping onto their mattress with a deep sigh. “That shit tastes like ass and takes me out for six hours!”

Folding his arms against his chest, he tried his hardest to think of a different antidote. However, as he did any other time, he came up short. He reached for the bottle of liquid medication and ignored his girlfriend’s whining, pouring it into a spoon for her to take. He nearly spilled it on himself twice before it made it to her lips.

Carl tapped her forehand with his index finger. “Come on, dummy. Open up,” he huffed with a pout. It only worsened whenever she flipped him off and laid back down. “Mia, dude, do you wanna get better or not?”

Not if it meant taking that shit again. Being too tired to bicker with him, she groaned and sat back up, putting the spoon in her mouth hurriedly. The flavor hit her in the back of her throat. She gagged and fell onto the bed, causing Carl to merely laugh at her dramatics.

“It’s not that bad.”

“Where did your mom get that shit from? The fucking black market?” Her voice was hoarse and raspy, sending a strange chill down Carl’s spine.

“Maybe. It works like a charm. We’ve been using this stuff since I was a baby.” He examined the bottle, perhaps remembering all the times he was forced to use its contents. Carl was sickly child, always coughing or having a low fever. That taste lingered in his mouth nearly every week of the winter seasons. Hopefully it worked for his girlfriend too.

An idea sparked in mind when reminiscing, jumping from the mattress and rushing to the door. Mia jerked up in fear that something was astray. “What? What’re you doing?”

“I’ll be right back!”

And with that, he was gone. Mia suffered with the taste dancing on her tongue, burying her face deep within the pillow while moaning and groaning. In a spur of being delirious, she grabbed onto Carl’s jacket and held it close to her face. It smelled good. The heat in her cheeks raised temperature when thinking about how stupid she looked doing something like this, especially since he was probably just going to the bathroom or something one hall away. However, she couldn’t manage her illness without him. His absence only made her sicker.

That being said, she clutched onto the fabric and muffled out a few bitter words. “Dickhead,” she spat in a fury of frustration. In reality, she missed him.

Almost as if that were his legal name, her boyfriend came bursting into the room moments later. He held a huge tub of ice cream in one hand, the other stacked to the brim with candy. Kicking the door shut with his foot and toppling over his own feet, he handed the container to her with a cheeky smile. It was almost pathetic how proud he was for thinking this up.

“I know you like chocolate the best.” Carl cooed while plopping down beside her, planting his hand on her forehead to regulate her temperature again. “I got gummy worms and Oreos to put on top. I wasn’t sure which you wanted, so I just grabbed both. It should help make you feel less hot and get that flavor out of your mouth.”

Mia’s eyes practically glowed from the sight of the dessert. She peeled off the lid and dug the spoon into its contents, beyond ready to dispose of the flavor on her tongue. Before she did this, however, she had a much more wicked idea. A smirk rose to her face.

“I know another way to get it out.” She hummed, trailing her fingers down Carl’s frail chest. He gulped and blushed like an idiot as she leaned in closer and closer, eventually connecting their lips together. Suddenly, Carl knew the taste she was talking about. He pulled away faster than she could start laughing. “Told you so. Ain’t that nasty?”

With a pitiful expression, he nodded frantically. Mia could only giggle and pinch his round cheek, teasing him as they both knew damn well he wouldn’t deny her.

“You know I love you. Thank you for taking such good care of me, baby.”

“Mmh…whatever.” Carl mumbled while watching her stick the spoon into her parted lips. A smirk appeared on his face when seeing it. “Maybe I’ll get one of those sexy nurse costumes next time.”

Nearly spraying the ice cream everywhere while containing her laughter, Mia placed her hand over her mouth. Carl chuckled a little and watched her struggle, pleased with himself.

“Suddenly I need a hot nurse to check up on my tits.” Mia snickered with a suggestive tone entwined in her voice.

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders with a smug grin glued to his face, he batted his eyelashes slowly.“Good thing there’s a doctor in the house…”

[valentineforlemonandcherry]

Ash & Skylight Part 11

This is currently planned to be a mid-length story between You/Reader, Charlie Weasley, and Oliver Wood.

Summary: All you’ve ever wanted in life was to know where exactly you could plant your feet in the ground and grow into yourself. Clearly, you never meant to fall for a certain ginger-haired, freckly, dragon-chaser called Charlie Weasley. Even moreso, you certainly never meant to invite in a particular overly-competitive, Quidditch fanatic named Oliver Wood into your life. And yet, perhaps there is something to be found in the skies, after all; perhaps there is a bit of promise in risking it all in the wide, blue world above.

[Multi-Post Story] [Charlie Weasley x Reader] [Oliver Wood x Reader] [Warning: Story Contains Explicit Smut.] [Warning: Rough Sex.] [Warning: If you don’t like sad endings, this one may not be for you.]

❂ Click Here for Ash & Skylight Home Page (All Chapter Links) ❂

As soon as you closed the door behind you, you kissed Oliver again, pressing him up against your wall. Oliver caught you at once. His hands found your hips easily this time. He was happily becoming familiar with kissing you, though his heart still skipped a beat whenever you so much as turned towards him.

You got up on tiptoe for a moment and pushed your forehead gently against his. “Don’t you want to touch me?”

“Huh?”

“Touch me,” you repeated softly. “Don’t you wanna?”

“Well – Well, sure,” Oliver admitted. He paused, before asking, “Aren’t I already?”

You teased him. “You know, Oliver, I do exist under all of the Puddlemere United clothing…” You fell back onto your feet. As you did, you shimmied your hips slightly, so that Oliver’s hands slipped under the hem of your jumper and shirt and slid onto your bare waist.

“Oh…” Oliver breathed out. He gripped your waist in his hands instinctively, squeezing you tightly.

“Ah,” you gasped lightly.

“Sorry!” Oliver hurriedly let you go. “Too tight, huh?”

“No, no. Wait, come back, Oliver.” You reached down and pulled his hands back to where they were. In fact, you rather un-romantically shoved his hands back under your jumper. If anyone had been watching, they would have laughed at how straightforward you were being and how doubtful Oliver seemed of everything. But neither you nor Oliver laughed. You were together in the moment, and it felt too important to laugh.

Oliver slowly ran his hands up and down your waist and hips. “Um, you feel…”

“I feel what?” you prompted, wanting him to finish that sentence.

A tad sheepishly, he decided on, “Nice. You feel nice.”

You laughed lightly. Wrapping your arms around Oliver’s neck, you burrowed your face into his neck, where you pressed sweet kisses against his neck over and over again.

“Mm, mm, mm,” you mumbled out, as you brushed your lips all over his warm neck.

Oliver felt his chest tighten, as he received your kisses. Her mouth is so sweet, he thought dizzily.

Reaching out, Oliver hugged you tightly to him. Pressed up against his chest, you could hear Oliver’s heartbeat racing along in his chest.

Oh, you thought, slightly surprised, it’s beating quite fast. You peeked up at him.

Hyper-sensitive to your every movement, as soon as you tilted your head up, Oliver also looked down at you.

“You all right?” you asked him softly.

Oliver took how your bright, curious eyes glanced up at him, and how your soft hair tumbled over your shoulder as you cocked your head up at him. Clearing his throat, he replied, “Fine.”

Noticing the way Oliver was standing rather awkwardly, with his hands almost resting on the wall behind him, on either side of him, you suggested, “Can you hold onto my hair for me? It’s getting in the way.”

“It is?” he said, a bit puzzled. He liked the way your hair looked right now, draped over your shoulder, as you talked to him, and he didn’t see it getting in the way.

“Well, it’s fine now,” you agreed. “But I want to kiss you…” You put your hand flat against his chest. “…here. And I think it’ll get in the way then.”

“Sure,” Oliver said, trying to sound nonchalant. He slowly and carefully brushed your hair into a ponytail.

“Thank you,” you murmured. You pulled down the front of Oliver’s shirt and resumed placing kisses all over his chest.

Oliver breathed out, “Uhn…”

When you heard Oliver let out that tiny, soft moan, you nearly paused. Because it did things to you, that moan. And it made you want to do all sorts of stuff to him. However, not wanting Oliver to feel self-conscious, you pretended not to notice and carried on kissing his chest.

Every kiss you planted on Oliver was very intentional and sweet. You loved the way he tasted, and so it was only natural for you to swirl your tongue against his skin and then suck gently on his chest.

Soon, you felt Oliver’s chest starting to rise and fall rather drastically. Wanting to feel every bit of his reaction, you kept your mouth pressed against Oliver longer for each kiss.

Meanwhile, Oliver, who was torn between doing his utmost to hold your hair back gently for you and losing his mind entirely at how wonderful it felt to be kissed by you like this, suddenly blurted out, “Godric, you kiss so well – Mm, you’re such a – a good girl.”

Oh, oh, oh! Your heart suddenly thrummed wildly in your chest. Did he just – Did he just call me a good girl?

At once, Oliver said, “Uh, sorry, that slipped out.”

“No, no,” you whispered back fervently. “Please call me that.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No, I don’t mind. I don’t mind at all,” you hummed out happily, as you sucked gently on the spot just beneath his collarbone. “Mmm…  Yes, Oliver, please call me your good girl.”

Now feeling a bit more confident that you were, in fact, making Oliver feel good, you kissed down his body (thought without lifting his shirt).

Oliver, panting now, leaned back against the wall, and he moaned softly without realizing it.

Oh Godric, he sounds so cute, you thought to yourself, as you kissed him feverishly. All the while, of course, you were slowly going lower and lower, making your way down…

Oliver didn’t realize how low you were going until your hair suddenly slipped out of his grasp – because you’d fallen lightly onto your knees.

“W-Wait,” Oliver blurted out. He reached down and rather roughly grasped your face in his hand.

You blinked in surprise when you felt his fingers pushing into your cheeks.

Realizing that he was grasping too hard, Oliver hurriedly let go and instead tried to cup your face gently in his hands, but he missed – and you ended up falling forward and smushed your face right up against his stomach.

“Oliver!” you groaned. You sat back and rubbed your nose. “Ow…”

“I’m sorry!” Oliver quickly crouched down, so that he was face-to-face with you. “You caught me off guard there.”

Oliver slid his hand onto your cheek and made you look up at him, so he could make sure that you were all right. Your nose was a little red, but you seemed completely all right – except you were scowling at him.

“But I went so slow,” you said, half to him and half to yourself. “I held back and I took my time, so you wouldn’t be surprised when I finally…”

Oliver blinked at you. “So I wouldn’t be surprised?”

That was when you realized, “Oh, Oliver, you weren’t thinking about that at all, were you? You were only thinking about how I was kissing your chest. You didn’t think I was making my way elsewhere, huh?”

Oliver slid his hand forward slightly and gently pressed his thumb to your lower lip, making you open your mouth for him. He murmured quietly, “Yeah, I didn’t think about it. Your mouth is so sweet. I was simply feeling your mouth on my chest. And that… seemed like enough.” He hesitated, before he admitted, “You kiss really well.”

Heart thumping loudly in your chest, you gazed up at Oliver. In truth, it was a strange situation – but a touching one, and a romantic one, too. You were sitting on the floor, with a now pinkened nose, and he was crouching down rather awkwardly. But he was also tenderly holding your face in his hand and as you looked up at him, a streak of warm, late autumn sunlight crept in through the crimson curtains and illuminated Oliver’s shoulders and his now-present puppy eyes.  

At the same time, Oliver was looking down at you. He blinked when the amber-gold sunlight illuminated your face. “You’re really…” He meant to say “pretty,” but the word seemed so diminutive when it came to describing you. Instead, he ended up saying “…something,” which made you furrow your nose with confusion. Hastily, Oliver tacked on, “…special.”

Your eyes lit up and you laughed softly. You reached out and gently grasped the front of his shirt. “If that’s what you think, come closer, please.”

Oliver awkwardly shuffled forward in his crouched-down position.

You couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at this.

“What?” Oliver asked. “Did I do something off-putting? You can tell me if I did.”

You shook your head. “No. Only, I want to kiss you again. Can I?”

“‘Course you can, but, uh, shouldn’t I be doing something?” Oliver asked. He felt foolish as soon as the words came out of his mouth, but he pressed on. “You don’t have to force yourself to keep kissing me. That’s probably not doing much for you, right?”

Twisting his shirt a little in your hand, you confessed, “Actually, I love having my mouth on you. You’re so warm… and, to tell the truth, you taste amazing.”

“I taste - ?”

“Amazing. Yeah. You really do.”

You pulled Oliver to you and at the same time, you leaned forward, into him. Your lips met and the two of you kissed slowly, sweetly, thoroughly. You both took the time to hug each other and nuzzle each other with your noses, only to wander back to each other’s lips and kiss each other desperately, over and over again.

At some point, Oliver gently pushed you down onto the floor. He didn’t seem to realize it, and you didn’t recall when it had happened, but there you were, lying back on the floor, underneath Oliver.

Once you were lying down on the floor, you reached down and tugged at Oliver’s wrists. He knew at once what you meant – and this time, he confidently slipped his hands under your jumper and shirt. However, he kept to running his hands up and down your sides, and you wanted more.

So, you murmured, “…Tummy.”

“Hm?” As he spoke, Oliver kept nuzzling your cheek with his nose.

You smiled, as you clarified, “I want you to touch my tummy, please.”

Oliver moved his hands, slipping them over your waist and onto your stomach. “Here?”

“Yeah.”

When Oliver felt how soft you were, he paused.

You opened your eyes. “What?” you asked, sensing his hesitation at once.

“Nothing,” he said, speaking slightly more quickly than he usually did.

You studied him for a moment, while gently tracing the side of his face with your fingers.

Under your gaze, Oliver admitted, “You’re really warm. And all soft and like…”

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I think my jumper’s too warm.”

“Sure. Like I said, this material’s really for Quidditch players. Although, it suits you well…” While he spoke, Oliver was warmly running his hand all over your tummy.

You smiled. It felt so nice, to have him touching you like this. He had broad, rough hands – not technically “gentlemanly” at all, and yet, his touch felt a hundred times better than anything else.

Reaching down, you pulled one of his hands up, to your face. Closing your eyes, you turned your face into his hand and slowly kissed his palm.

Watching you kiss his palm, Oliver noticed, “Your cheeks are kind-of flushed, too.”

You asked softly, “Will you take it off?”

“Take it off…?”

“Yeah.” You lifted your arms. “Can you take my jumper off for me?”

Oliver reached down and pulled your jumper off. He could feel that his heart rate was embarrassingly high. Only, when the jumper hole got caught around your head for a moment, he couldn’t help but chuckle as you flailed about inside the jumper.

When the jumper was finally off, Oliver remarked, “Merlin, you looked so stupid for a minute. You’re kind-of impatient, aren’t you? You should have just waited for me to pull it off of you.”

Suddenly flustered by how Oliver was teasing you and how his puppy eyes had disappeared to reveal his normal, rather quick and straightforward persona, you thumped him in the stomach and protested, “Hey, that was your fault. You should be better at taking clothes off of girls!” You paused. “Wait, that came out wrong.”

Meanwhile, pretend-groaning, Oliver had stumbled over to your bed and fallen over on top of it.

“Wait, where are you going?” You got up off the floor and trailed after Oliver, all the while saying, “Hey, you’re just going to take my jumper off and then leave me there? I’m going to get cold without you.”

Oliver meant to apologize to you and express his intent that he wanted you to join him on the bed. However, glancing over at you and seeing how messed-up your hair still was, all frizzy with static on one side, Oliver couldn’t help but laugh again.

“Stop laughing at me! Especially when it’s your fault.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Oliver said, still chuckling.

“You’re still laughing!” You jumped onto the bed besides him and made to furiously tickle his side.

Rolling over to avoid getting caught, Oliver instead reached for you. He grabbed you, easily picked you up, and then sat you right down on his lap.

You instinctively landed with your hands on his stomach. You blinked in surprise, as you suddenly felt how cut his body was through his jumper and shirt. But you hardly had time to ponder that, for Oliver was speaking to you now.

“You’ve been so patient with me lately, I almost forgot how hot-tempered you are,” Oliver said affectionately. Giving you a rather cheeky grin, he told you, “Missed you. Missed you like this.”

As Oliver spoke, your eyes fell upon his face, and you were distracted by the wonderful sight of him. He was still laughing, and the warmth in his brown eyes was lovely. His hair had fallen in front of his face a little, and for the first time, you saw his hair messy, not in the windswept way that Quidditch made his hair, but in a boyish and relaxed way.

Still, you responded to him as called for – by poking him in the chest and retorting, “And I forgot how infuriating you can be, Oliver Wood.”

Oliver’s grin softened into a warm smile, and just like that, the two of you melted right back into a tender moment. Sliding your hands up onto Oliver’s shoulders, you leaned down until your nose touched his. Nuzzling his nose with yours, you whispered adoringly, “You need a haircut, love.”

Oliver nodded. In truth, he hardly took in the meaning of your words, for in that instant, he became very aware of you: the way your hair had fallen forward and was now tickling his cheek, the way your cute nose was nudging gently against his, the way your soft, lovely breath was passing gently over his lips, and the way you sat, all warm and perfect, on top of him. Oliver found that he liked the way you felt sitting on top of him. He squeezed your waist in his hands as he wished that he could stay with you like this, forever.

Meanwhile, oblivious to Oliver’s inner musings, you reached up and gently pushed his hair out of his face. “There’re your eyebrows,” you remarked playfully. “All stern and serious.”

You put on a stern, grumpy face, mimicking Oliver. Then, you broke into a laugh.  

“Is that how you see me?” Oliver wondered.

“A little,” you confessed, smiling at him. “When you’re not making your puppy eyes at me, that is.”

“I still don’t know what you mean by that.”

“That’s fine,” you assured him. “You don’t need any more power over me than you already have.”

“I have power over you?” Oliver repeated doubtfully. He lifted his eyebrow at you.

You chuckled softly as you sank down even further against Oliver, until your thighs were pressed flush against his hips and your tummy was meeting his stomach. “Mhm,” you replied. “Unacceptably so. You know, I wouldn’t get up at five a.m. and scream at the top of my lungs for just anyone. Nor would I venture into a boys’ locker room to check up on just any ol’ Captain.”

“You came down anyways because you think I’m a good Captain, right?” Oliver said.

You nearly laughed in exasperation. A good Captain? More like because it was you, silly. But you simply nodded and confirmed, “Yes, because you’re an excellent Captain.”

Seeing Oliver smile proudly, you sweetly kissed him again.

Oliver, feeling less of a need to hold back now that you were on top of him and could control what was happening, kissed you back fervently. He reached up and placed his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you down. He took his time with you, pressing his lips against yours deeply.

When he did, you felt yourself instantly melt into the kiss and into him. Your shoulders relaxed and your hands gathered at Oliver’s chest, while Oliver squeezed you tightly in his arms, wrapping you all up within the confines of his own body.

Oh, Merlin save me, you breathed out in your mind. I forgot how well he kisses. I forgot just how good and – and sweet and – ah – wonderful his kisses make me feel.

“Ah…” you moaned out. Your hands slipped off of Oliver’s shoulders and hurriedly found their way into his hair, which you fisted softly in both of your hands. You bit Oliver’s lower lip gently, making him shift under you and moan back.

“Oli – ah - ver,” you mumbled out, as Oliver took a moment to pepper your cheeks all over with kisses. You meant to tell him that you loved the way he moaned, when Oliver whispered back to you, “Yes. Say my name again. Just like that.”

You paused. “Oliver…?”

“Again.”

“Oli – ah – Oliver…”

“There you go.” Encouraged by hearing how breathless and sweet you sounded, Oliver slid himself down a little ways underneath you, where he began to kiss at your neck.

“Mm… Ol – iver,” you breathed out, enjoying very much the way his lips were trailing down your throat, leaving a trail of warmth all down your neck.

“Does it feel good?” Oliver asked. In his mind, he was wondering if he could ever kiss you well enough to give you the light-headed, heart-pounding feeling you gave him when you kissed him.

“Oh, God, yes,” you breathed out. “Feels so good…”

Oliver paused for a split second. The way you were panting for him was making him feel rather…

Rather… Oliver thought dazedly. But the thought went unfinished as, at that moment, a wave of tension unexpectedly rose within him. Suddenly, Oliver was certain: He wanted more of you. No, he wanted all of you.  

Oliver aburptly grabbed your waist and he flipped you over on the bed.

“Ah!” you gasped, as you felt yourself hit the bed and suddenly sink into the mattress.

“Shit, sorry!” Oliver apologized hurriedly. Immediately breaking out of the intense desire that had overwhelmed him for a moment, Oliver went into a fluster, and he patted you all over – from your head down to your tummy to your thighs, as if to make sure you were all right.

You laughed softly. “‘M all right! I was just surprised – but in a good way.”

“Oh, thank Merlin.” Oliver breathed out. “Sometimes I don’t know my own strength and…”

“And?” you prompted.

I never want to hurt you, Oliver thought fervently, almost as a promise to himself. When I’m supposed to keep you safe.

Oliver paused, thinking to himself. Well, I don’t know if you need anyone to keep you safe. These days, I feel like I’m the one relying on you. But the thing is, I want to be by your side and I want to be a good thing in your life. So, I should serve some purpose for you, right? And that means, at least in part, that I should keep you safe. Right?

You reached out to Oliver with both of your arms. “Until you think of what to say, would you mind coming back here and kissing me again, please?”

Oliver obliged. He slid his arms around you. This time, when he leaned into you, he dragged your hips under his. Yes, he thought in his mind, I’ll keep you safe. If only you’ll let me stay with you, love.

You sighed out in pleasure as you felt Oliver trapping you gently underneath him.

However, when Oliver naturally came to sink down between your legs, it gave you pause. It occurred to you that Oliver felt even sturdier than he looked. For, while the way he was gripping your hips was still gentle, the demanding way in which his hips pushed apart your thighs caught you off guard.

He’s very strong, isn’t he? you mused. His hips are so wide and muscular. They split my thighs apart so easily. I bet he doesn’t even realize he’s making me stretch my thighs out already…

Just then, Oliver shifted slightly, causing him to accidentally brush up against you. At once, you both gasped and moaned out - embarrassingly loudly for such a simple, brief, and accidental touch.

You and Oliver saw each other gasp, and you both immediately blushed afterwards.

What was that? you were both thinking. Such a simple thing… How come it affected me strongly?

The truth was that the intimacy of the situation was overwhelming, choking you both.

You suddenly felt rather nervous – not of Oliver and not about the physical aspect of this, but about how intensely vulnerable you felt, when you were Oliver like this. All of your little actions – like how you were constantly asking to kiss him and telling him you wanted to be touched by pulling his hands towards you and now, lying under him with your thighs eagerly spread, while you gasped for him at the smallest touch – betrayed the fact that you were deeply into him and relying on him. It felt terrifying, when up until now, you had developed a habit of pulling away from someone whenever you felt that you were relying on them too much. It came from a desire not to put too much pressure on people. Like with Charlie, you never wanted to feel as if you needed him longer than he was willing to stay.

Only, the thing was, that with Oliver, you were slowly learning that this vulnerability could also invite in something wonderful – this wonderful intimacy that made you realize that you weren’t alone in the world after all. The intimacy was blossoming, albeit in sudden and awkward spurts, between you and Oliver, and you knew, deep in your heart, that you didn’t – you couldn’t – let this go.

“Oliver,” you whispered, and your voice betrayed your tenderness towards him.  

“Yeah?” Oliver looked into your eyes. You could see that he was trying to read you. He was concentrating, even frowning slightly.

You made the same motion that you had made when you were standing with Oliver at the doorway of the locker rooms – you reached up and gently ran your hand up and down his shoulder. The only difference now was that you also had your legs locked around his waist. It took a bit of effort, since your thighs were spread out, but you managed to lock your feet together atop his back. Only when you were sure you had your legs locked around him, did you manage to ask Oliver what Oliver thought was a rather odd question, “You know how you trained with Puddlemere United over the summer. Can you tell me about your training?”

“You want to know about my training?”

“Yeah. Did you learn about any – um, I don’t know – special move or – or exciting tactic?”

“Special move?” Oliver repeated, amused. “Exciting tactic?”

“Well, I don’t want they’re called exactly,” you said, scowling slightly. “Don’t tease me like this, Oliver Wood. You know what I mean.”

“Okay.” Oliver thought for less than a second, before he recited with perfect certainty, “There’s this move called the Wollongong Shimmy. It’s basically a high speed zig-zag move that has a high chance of confusing and distracting the opposing Chasers. I’m planning on using it against the Hufflepuff team this year. Because you know their Chaser, Zacharias Smith?”

You nodded.

“He’s not too bright.”

You chided, “That’s kind-of a mean thing to say. I’m sure the poor kid’s doing his best.”

“Well, he fell for the same feint six times in a row last year,” Oliver said, defending himself. “I mean, I’d be the fool if I didn’t notice that, right?”

You pretended to sigh. But secretly, you agreed with him.

“Why did you want to know that, though?” Oliver wondered, gazing down at you again.

“Oh, you know,” you replied airily, “I’m learning all I can so I can train my own, secret Quidditch team.”

“Puddlemoor Unified?” Oliver said quickly.

“That’s the one.”

Oliver chuckled. “Only you could get a team name that awfully wrong.”

“It’s not awfully wrong,” you protested. “I’m telling you – that’s my team name.”

“Oh, really? And who’s the Seeker for your team?”

“Me,” you said stubbornly.

“And your Beaters?”

“Me and me.”

“Your Chasers?”

“Me, me, and me.” You lifted your eyebrow at Oliver. “Any more foolish questions, Captain Wood?”

Oliver ruefully shook his head. “No. I’ll watch out for your up and coming team, then.”

You chose that moment to observe, “Besides, ‘Puddlemere United’ is a strange name in the first place.”

“Careful,” Oliver told you. “Your entire wardrobe is now comprised of Puddlemere United items. You don’t want to go insulting yourself now, do you?”

You smiled. He’s so biased when it comes to his own team, and he genuinely doesn’t realize it.

“Fine, fine,” you relented. “It’s only strange when I say it incorrectly. So, it’s my own fault.”

Oliver’s stern expression softened. But then, he reached over and grasped both your hands in his. “You’re avoiding my question,” he said knowingly. “Answer me. Why did you suddenly ask me about my summer training?”

You fidgeted, but you couldn’t help except to clutch Oliver’s warm hands back. And though you avoided Oliver’s gaze, you knew him well enough to picture, even without looking, exactly what kind of eyes he was making.

“I was only curious,” you said, trying to play it off. “I mean, you were away all summer and I… Well, I missed you.” Your voice fell to a very quiet pitch when you said those last three words.

“You keep saying that,” Oliver noticed. “I sent you loads of stuff, to let you know that I was thinking about you. But you still missed me?”

“Not in a bad way,” you explained quickly. “I was really happy that you were at the Puddlemere United training camp. And, well, I often thought about what you might be learning. So I just thought I’d ask you. That’s all.

Oliver was silent for a few seconds.

You swallowed nervously. “Oliver…?”

Oliver stayed right where he was and in his slow, steady voice, that held no judgment whatsoever, said, “Well, but that’s not all.”

Whenever Oliver saw right through you like this, a part of you wanted to run away. Another part of you wished you you could be charming enough to just smooth over the situation, to be playful and light and make it seem like it didn’t matter, just like Charlie had always done for you. But you knew you couldn’t do that.

Yet, being with Oliver was too important to you for you to pretend it didn’t exist. That was how you came to realize, I have to face it head-on.

All right, you decided. You took a deep breath. Then, you spoke, at a rather brisk speed, “This morning, you carried me back up to bed without waking me. When I woke up, you were already at practice, so I didn’t want to bother you. Then, at meals, when we’re in the Great Hall together, I always see you talking about Quidditch with Katie and Alicia. You get so excited, Oliver. It’s really nice to see you like that. And I don’t want to get in the way of that. That’s why… I always try my best to keep to myself. I really do. Only today I couldn’t focus on what I was doing anymore, and I ended up leaving the library to see you. I was going to go watch you practice,” you confessed. As soon as the confession left your lips, you winced and you immediately followed it up with, “I’m being too much, aren’t I? I’m getting in your way.”

Oliver’s stern expression suddenly cleared, only to make way for a look of utter confusion. “Getting in my way?”

“Yes,” you said. “Distracting you when you want to be focused on Quidditch. I come fall asleep on you when you’re trying to study Quidditch moves and then I come watch you while you practice. It’s annoying, right?”

Oliver let out a breath. “No, you’ve got it all wrong.”

“Are you sure? You can tell me the truth. I’ll be okay. Honestly, Oliver, I’m so proud of you. I love that you’re passionate about Quidditch. I don’t ever want you to change that. It’s just that… sometimes I miss you and – and – well, I think about you much more often than you think about me. Again, that’s okay with me! It’s only that… I would hate to get in your way.”

The whole time you were speaking, Oliver was slowly shaking his head. Finally, when he heard you say that phrase of “get in your way” again, he  cupped your face in both of his hands and repeated, with heavy emphasis, “No.”

You blinked. “No…?”

“Listen,” Oliver said. He spoke quite steadily, in contrast to your speedy run-through of increasing events in which you thought you were too much. “When you were coming down to the Quidditch pitch, I was coming up to the castle. That’s why we bumped into each other, remember?”

You slowly nodded.

Seeing that you hadn’t quite pieced it together yet, Oliver murmured, “I was coming up to see you.”

You paused. Your hands came up and wrapped themselves around Oliver’s hands. You leaned in slightly, while pressing Oliver’s hands against your cheeks, as you murmured back to him, “You were?”

Oliver smiled at how cute you looked, with your face all nestled between his hands. “Yeah,” he confirmed.

“Oh…” You paused. “But what about this morning? Why didn’t you wake me up for a kiss or something before you left?”

“Well, that’s because – er - ” Oliver flushed slightly, but he carried on and admitted, “You were all curled up around me on the couch and I saw a scar on your – your thigh. I wasn’t really thinking straight and I sort-of reached over to smooth out your scar and to make sure it was healing, but um…”

“What?” you pressed gently.

Oliver bit his lower lip. His brow furrowed for a second, and then, his eyes drooped just slightly at the edges.

Oh, puppy eyes, you recognized. But this time, you didn’t avoid them. Because, funnily enough, where Oliver was anxious, you were not. Physical intimacy was much more familiar to you, and it was something you definitely knew you wanted to explore with Oliver, as long as he wanted it, too.  

Trying to be helpful, you whispered, “You know, Oliver, if it’s about touching me – I mean, if you want to touch me, I’m sort-of right here, waiting to be touched.”

Oliver reached up and gently swiped your cheek with the back of his finger. “You’re serious…”

You nodded.

Oliver nodded back at you.

You were both still for yet another moment. A tiny smile graced your lips because of how cute Oliver was being, nodding back at you like that.

Oliver kept staring at you with his lost, slightly pitiful eyes. You could tell that he was trying to collect his thoughts together, so you waited. The only movement you made was to gently kiss his palm.

Finally, Oliver said, “I don’t know if I should say this. I don’t want to put pressure on you. And I think I feel.. what you just said – how you like that I’m passionate about Quidditch. You said you respect me for that, right?”

“Right,” you agreed. You were slightly confused, not knowing where he meant to go with this line of thought.

However, Oliver confessed, “But the truth is, love, I can’t stop thinking about you. I mean, when I’m on the Quidditch pitch, all I’m thinking about is Quidditch. That’s my dream, you know?”

You nodded fervently.

Nodding back slightly yet again, Oliver told you, “But as soon as I’m off the pitch – when I’m sitting in class, when I’m in my room at night, when I’m in the Great Hall for meals – my head is filled with thoughts of… you.”

Oliver’s cheeks were tinged a bright pink, but his voice was quite steady, as he asked you, “Is that all right?”

You nodded softly. You wondered if Oliver could hear how quickly your heart was thrumming in your chest.

Oliver let out a breath of relief.

Oliver’s fingers traced your cheek. He whispered, “What about you?”

“Me too,” you whispered back.

You felt Oliver’s fingers drift down your face, until he was tracing the cupid’s bow of your lips. When you felt his fingers press lightly against your lower lip, you whispered, “Maybe this is overkill to say, but I’d be sad if you felt any other way.”

Upon hearing that, Oliver wrapped his arms around you and he pressed you down against the bed once more. “Well, no need for that,” he murmured, while kissing your face all over. “I am thinking about you all the time. I do feel everything for you.”

Oliver’s voice had never been softer. You sank back into the mattress willingly, while at the same time, furiously trying to return his kisses by kissing his hands and arms all over. Finally, you kissed your way back up to his lips, and you grasped at Oliver with one hand on the back of his neck, bringing him back down on the bed with you. As your kisses grew more and more heated, you found yourself reaching down and naturally slipping off your shirt.

Oliver didn’t notice until you broke away from him to slip your shirt over your head. But when he realized what was going on, his mouth fell open slightly. Because the sight of you lying back on the bed for him, with your shirt off for him, was such a pretty sight. Oliver took in every last detail of you – from the way you had your head cocked slightly atop the pillow to look up at him, to the way the end of your hair curled around the edges of your favorite pillow, to the way your shoulders curved so gracefully and your collar bones appeared so delicate, to the way your cheeks were painted with the softest flush and illumination, to the way your toned little tummy and your sweet, soft curves were there for him to see and touch, and the way your breasts, cupped in some soft lacy thing that Oliver feared he'd break with his pinky finger, all came together to form… you.

You.

Oliver breathed out.

“See?” you murmured teasingly. “I do exist under all the Puddlemere United clothing.”

“Guess you do,” Oliver murmured back. He reached out and placed his hand on your tummy.

You felt him start to slide his hand up, but then he paused. You could almost see him thinking out loud, wondering how far up he could push his hand before it was too far.

Reaching down, you took Oliver’s hand. Then, you guided his hand to touch you all over – first, slipping his hand over your tummy, then up between your breasts to your throat, and down again, this time down your side, so he could feel every bit of your shape.

You closed your eyes and moaned out softly. His hand is so warm…

You guided his hand back up, but, to your happy surprise, this time, when you led Oliver’s hand to go up to your shoulder, his pinky just flicked out and pushed your bra strap off of your shoulder.

You smiled, realizing he wanted your bra off. Letting go of Oliver’s hand for a moment, you reached back and slowly undid your bra.

Oliver watched your bra fall away to reveal your sweet, supple breasts. At the same time, you reached up and casually brushed back your hair.

Oliver blinked. A strange, tingling feeling of intense want came over him when he saw you do that small, casual motion of brushing back your hair.

Grasping Oliver’s hand again, you pulled his hand up to your mouth and you softly bit at his fingertips before choosing his index finger to suck on.

Oliver swallowed. He could feel himself starting to respond to you.

Just then, you breathed out, “Oliver…”

“What is it?”

“I want to… see you too…”

“With my shirt off, you mean?”

“Y-Yeah,” you stuttered a little as you tried to speak while sucking on his finger.

Oliver moaned in his head. Godric, I think of her in almost all of my waking hours, but I never imagined her like this. Shit. How can I keep it together? I’ve got to keep myself together for her. Right? She wouldn’t like me slobbering all over her, right? Right.

“Oliver…?” It’d been a couple of minutes since you’d made your request, but Oliver hadn’t moved.

Oh, shit! Oliver suddenly realized that he’d been so busy trying to “keep it together” that he’d slipped up.

“Uh, sorry,” he said awkwardly. He rather abruptly reached for the hem of his shirt. However, as he gripped the end of his shirt, he suddenly thought, What if she doesn’t like what she sees? I don’t… I don’t think she’ll like what I look like. I mean, she’s pushed up my shirt before, but she was so busy kissing me all over that I don’t think she actually saw what I look like.

The truth was, Oliver was rather self-conscious about his body. He felt he was both too muscular and too small at the same time. He didn’t have the height thing or the broad-shoulder thing going on, at least not compared to the other Quidditch players he trained with, and he’d tried to overcome that by bulking up and building muscle. He’d ended up with quite an athletic body, but it wasn’t necessarily… nice to look at, or so he thought. When trainers had seen his body, they’d snickered at him because they were surprised at how muscular he was without actually being a large-statured player. “Looks like you reached your potential, kid,” one trainer had said to him.

Oliver imagined you being disgusted by his body, and he paused.

Sensing his sudden anxiety, you ran your hands gently over his thighs, but you didn’t say anything, making it clear that any decision he made was fine with you. You trusted him, which, in turn, made it easy for him to trust you.

Yeah, Oliver thought, I reckon that if it’s her… if it’s in front of her, it’s all right.

He slowly stripped off his shirt.

You took in the sight of Oliver, bare-chested, leaning over you slightly.

“Wow…” you murmured, without even realizing what you were saying.

Oliver sighed in resignation. “You think I look weird, don’t you?” He made to put his shirt back on, but you stopped him.

“Not at all. Rather… I get why you think I should work out more.” You ran your hand admiringly up his abs. “Compared to you, I’m a blob.”

Surprised, Oliver burst out into a soft, genuine chuckle.  

You laughed, too. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

As you spoke, you gently pulled away Oliver’s shirt and threw it to the side. You didn’t want him to put it back on. You liked looking at him and being able to touch his bare chest and stomach.  

Meanwhile, Oliver playfully walked two fingers up and down your tummy. “Yeah, I was surprised at how soft you were, given how strong you are. Think you could use some abs right about here.”

Grinning, you told him, “They’re there, silly. They just have to be coaxed out.”

“Maybe you’re the type of person where your muscles only get activated when you’re angry,” Oliver teased you. “That would make sense to me.”

“Fine,” you teased back. “I’ll let you in on a little secret, Oliver Wood. I only become strong when I’m annoyed at you.”

“Hm…” Oliver cocked his head at you. “So, what happens when I make you happy?”

“Ah, good question,” you replied. “When you please me – well, I think I get all soft for you and… um, you know this already, but…” You glanced up at him. Hoping it wasn’t too much, you whispered in a small, slightly embarrassed voice, “well, I get a little bit wet…” You reached down and softly slipped your fingers just between your legs and you pressed at the middle of your skirt. “…Um, right here…”

Oliver’s eyes followed your hand, and when he saw your hand slip in-between your thighs, he bit his lower lip. And when you whispered, “right here,” Oliver suddenly hugged you tightly to him, almost lifting you off of the bed for a moment.

“Ah!” You found your face pushed against his chest, and his stomach was pressed against your tummy, and his hips had pushed your thighs apart even more.

“Oliver…?” you whispered, puzzled. Why’s he suddenly holding onto me so tightly?

“I want to see you, bare for me,” Oliver murmured to you fervently. “Please. Be a good girl and undress for me.”

The way Oliver used that phrase – “good girl” – it wasn’t as if he was trying to be seductive or trying to get you to do something for him. It was more of a honest request – that he thought it would be good if you could please do this thing for him, and that made your heart thrum all the more.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “Yeah, I can – Um, just let me - ” It was a bit of a challenge, to push your skirt up and then slip your hands down to be able to tug down your panties. You didn’t get them very far down your thighs, because of far apart your thighs were split already.

You whispered, “I – I think I need you to move for me to…”

“Hm? Oh.��� Oliver glanced down. He meant to push himself away from you a little, but then he caught a glimpse of you, he stopped and breathed out rather harshly.  Your cute little pussy, glistening slightly, was waiting for him. What was more, there was a slightly wet spot in the middle of your panties, which you’d pulled down a little ways for him.

Without thinking about it, Oliver reached down and gently pressed his hand against your tummy, in order to hold your skirt up out of the way so he could look at you.

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

You paused. You couldn’t remember the last Oliver had cursed, and certainly not like that.

Oliver slowly ran his hands up and down your thighs. He could feel you straining a little, and he could see how tightly your panties had been pulled across your thighs.

He ran his finger across the part of your panties that were digging into your thigh. “You’re stretching these out, love. I reckon you won’t be able to wear these again.”

You said seriously, “They don’t say Puddlemere United on them, so I don’t care.”

Oliver was surprised, but he gave you an affectionate smile. It’s so surprising that she’s shy and self-conscious about things like holding hands in public or admitting that she brought chocolates to me, but when we’re together like this, she’s very confident and suddenly I’m the shy one.

Yes, somehow it seemed effortless for you, to show yourself before him, to tell him that you wanted him, to loop your arms around him and kiss him, to say little phrases that sent his mind spinning… Oliver thought it was partly because he was so into you, but he also realized that you were naturally comfortable with physical intimacy in ways that he wasn’t yet, and that brought a whole other dimension into your relationship.

She both is and isn’t who I imagined her to be, Oliver thought. She’s more. Much more. He reached over and gently tangled his finger with a strand of your hair. I want to find out more about her.

You loved the way Oliver touched you. There was something so starkly in contrast between his tough, burly body and the hesitant way in which he touched you. You had now come to realize that those puppy eyes of Oliver’s weren’t just some trick to make you do what he wanted; there really was a substantial part of him that felt a bit lost in the world, that was confused by the fact that no one seemed to understand what he valued most.

However, while in your mind, you were content forever to simply lie there and let Oliver touch you gently, your body was growing increasingly impatient, especially between your thighs. You didn’t realize it, but not only had you wrapped your legs around Oliver’s waist, but now you were desperately pressing your thighs against Oliver’s hips tighter and tighter as your need for him grew.

Oliver reached up and slid his hand in your hair, gently pushing your head back so you would look at him. He murmured, “Do you know what you’re doing?”

“Huh?”

“You’re squeezing your legs against me.”

“Oh!” You hurriedly started to relax your legs, but Oliver reached down, and sliding his hands under your thighs and just under your ass, he gently pushed you so that your legs were resting higher on his body, and your pussy was presented right in front of him.

Oliver moaned. “Uhn, so pretty, sweetheart…”

“T-Touch me,” you stuttered out. A bit hurriedly, you reached over and grabbed his wrist. Guiding his hand to you, you had Oliver gently push his fingers against your clit.

At once, you breathed in rather sharply. Then, as you had Oliver softly rub your clit, you moaned and your thighs shivered.

“You’re so sensitive,” Oliver murmured, watching your thighs quiver in response to his touch.

“I love your hands,” you whispered. “You’re so warm, Oliver. It feels so… so good when you touch me. Ah, yes…!”

You became quite wet, at which point, you took his hand and slowly had him push the tip of his finger inside of you.

“Oh, fuck,” Oliver groaned. “You’re all – all tight.” He felt his cock throb heavily in response to you.

At this point, you couldn’t hold it together quite as well as you meant to, and you ended up confessing,  “Oliver, I – Oh, God, please, I need you so bad. I don’t want to – to rush you, but I wanna feel you inside me. Deep inside me.”

“O-oh, oh, okay.” Flustered, Oliver quickly made to take off his pants. You helped him, undoing his button and zipper for him.

Oliver tried not to feel embarrassed as he became completely naked in front of you. He didn’t understand why he felt this way. He had to do daily check-ins with his trainers and he shared open shower stalls with his teammates all the time, but with you… With you… He supposed he just wanted you to like him back.

And you did. Without any hesitation whatsoever, you took your opportunity to caress and please Oliver – and clearly, you savored it. You were gentle, but very eager, as you ran your hands all along his cock before guiding his cock to your waiting pussyhole. You moaned with anticipation as you needily ran the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. You had Oliver lean forward just a little – not enough to enter you, but enough to make you feel that wonderful pressure right at your tight, aching, little hole.

Flustered as you were, however, you first looked up at Oliver and asked, “Are you – Are you okay, Oliver?”

Vaguely, Oliver wondered, Am I okay if I feel like my heart’s racing in my chest and chest is so tight I can barely breathe… and all because I want you so much? But Oliver clutched onto your thighs and he managed to smile as he whispered, in a truthful answer, “Yeah, I think so. I’m with you.”

You smiled back at him. It wasn’t a normal happy-go-lucky smile, but a genuinely pleased, almost shy smile. Ah, he feels comfortable with me. That’s all I want.

You gently lifted your legs and, pressing your thighs to his sides once more, you slowly drew him closer. Slowly, he pressed into you little by little…

Oliver gritted his teeth together. He’d thought you felt tight on his finger; the way you felt on his cock was just – just – unbearably tight and squeezing.

He groaned. “Fuck,” he huffed out hard. “Fuck, that’s – that’s tight.”

“Ah, sorry,” you whispered in a small voice. You were trying to relax, but honestly, you’d wanted this moment of being with Oliver for so long and he was spreading you out so well, not only your thighs now, but also your tight little pussyhole, that it was hard for you to stop your pussy from clenching on his cock straight away. Also, you couldn’t stop your thighs from pressing harder against Oliver and you couldn’t seem to make your taut little tummy relax either. Everything felt so tense and tight.

“Just, um, can you rock – ah – back and forth a little?” you asked Oliver, hoping that he could open you up a little and help you relax. Because you couldn’t wait to have his cock deep inside you. You couldn’t wait – you needed it, needed to feel your boyfriend as deep inside of you as he could go, needed to feel him rocking and pushing and eventually, pounding, into your tight little pussy.

Oliver, reaching over to hold you even closer to him, buried his face against your neck, as he cautiously began to move his hips, to ease his way inside of you.

You shut your eyes tightly, as you felt his cock start to push and pull in and out of your pussy.

Oliver pushed a little deeper. For that brief moment, you accidentally squeezed Oliver’s shoulders so hard that your nails dug into him. Oliver let out a soft groan of surprise and accidentally thrust forward slightly, pushing himself even deeper inside of you.

“A-ah! Oliver, n-not so f-fast,” you huffed out. But then, as your eyes flew open and you realized that you were gripping onto him rather too tightly, you quickly let go of him and instead chose to grip onto the sheets.

Oliver, seeing you grip onto your sheets with tight fists that bunched up the fabric, said worriedly, “Sorry, sorry, are you okay?”

“‘M okay,” you reassured him quickly. “Sorry I clutched onto you like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” Oliver reassured you right back.

The two of you looked at each other and smiled a little sheepishly, feeling the awkwardness and the tenderness of it all.

You took this moment to ask him, though slightly shyly, “Um, I know you’re not all the way inside me yet, but… but how do I feel… to you?”

“Honestly?” Oliver said, in a slightly hoarse voice. “I’m having a rather hard time holding back. I – uh – I don’t have anything to compare this to, but you’re so tight. I want to…” His voice became a bit raspier as he confessed, “… take you.”

Your pussy gave a tiny little thump when you heard him rasp out the words “take you.”

Oliver, feeling your pussy walls gently squeeze around his cock, looked up at you to check, “What about you? Are you sure I’m not hurting you?”

You shook your head at him. “No, you’re not hurting me. You’re actually spreading me out so well.” You reached up and gently patted his cheek, making Oliver smile ruefully at you. “So well.”

“Good. I want to make you feel good,” Oliver said, and his voice was warm. He meant it. “Relax for me just a little more, love. Spread your thighs… That’s it. Good girl.”

You sighed in happiness as you settled back.

Oliver grasped onto your thighs this time, with his strong hands leaving light, blushing imprints on the softness of your thighs, as he gently pulled you to him.

As you shifted down the bed towards Oliver, you felt his cock sink deeper into you. You let out a soft, arching moan. “Ah…”

Oliver’s kept rocking back and forth, entering you slowly to make sure you were adjusting to him as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of you.

However, Oliver could feel the tension growing within himself. His cock was already aching and throbbing inside of you. He was trying to calm himself, too, as he took it slow with you, but you were so tight, and the vision of you moaning and squirming with even the slightest push of his hips.

Finally, he moaned out, “I – I think I’m close.”

Before you could even respond, Oliver suddenly gripped your thighs quite tightly and pushed into you a little harder.

“Ah!”

“Sorry!” he said immediately.

“N-No, it’s fine,” you said quickly. “Keep going! P-Please, keep going.”

Oliver didn’t need to be told twice.

Your eyes flew open in surprise when Oliver suddenly took you in intensely sharp, hard thrusts. He wasn’t necessarily being rough with you. Certainly, he wasn’t rushing or messy all of a sudden. No, Oliver seemed completely in control, but, whether he realized it or not, he was thrusting into you quite deep and quite hard.  

“Ah! H-Hah! Ahh!” You gasped loudly with each thrust, completely taken aback by how suddenly he’d switched from the most cautious rocking to the deepest thrusts. His thighs slammed up against your ass with each thrust, and you heard the bedsprings creak – bedsprings that you’d never heard before in your life.

Oliver moaned hotly against your neck as he drove his hips into you. He was so lost in the moment - fuzzy-headed with the heat of it all, overwhelmed with the scent and warmth and feeling of you. Taking me so well, taking me so – fucking – well, he growled out in his head.

“O-Oh my G-God!” you stuttered out, as you felt Oliver driving his cock deep into your pussy over and over again.

You were crying out loudly, feeling your every breath pushed out of your body by how intensely Oliver was making love to you. Yes, he worked you so hard. He couldn’t help but be earnest and intense in everything he did, and you loved him for it. Your cries became higher and higher, and more and more desperate, until you gasped out loudly, “Baby! P-Please – uhn!”

Good girl, good girl, good girl, Oliver panted out in his head, in time to his pounding into your tight, soft pussy. He swore your pussy was getting tighter and wetter and warmer and he kept snapping his hips forward thoughtlessly. Instinct and feeling had kicked in for Oliver, and all he knew was that the only pleasure and release that could be found was somewhere deep inside of your perfect little pussy.

“Ah…!” you cried out and you thrashed out with your legs. It didn’t matter, though, as Oliver had you pinned down so tightly against the mattress that you didn’t move one bit away from him, no matter how much you squirmed.  

However, only a few minutes of this intense love-making had passed, when Oliver suddenly collapsed on top of you.

You gasped and instinctively hugged him tightly as you fell back flat on the bed. Oliver moaned loudly as he buried his face in your sheets, just over your shoulder. He found himself surrounded by the scent and warmth of you in this intense moment, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He fisted your sheets, too, gripping at them harshly on either side of your shoulders, as he felt himself start to cum.

Oh, wait, pull out, pull out! Oliver abruptly wrenched himself away from you and barely managed to pull out before he came all over your tummy.

Panting hard, cheeks flushed a bright pink, you lifted your head and stared in complete awe as Oliver came on your stomach.

Oliver let out the softest moan as he finished. “Uhn…”

You swallowed hard, affected by his puppy voice even in this intense moment.

Putting his hands down on the bed on either side of your hips, Oliver bent over to try and catch his breath. “Sorry,” he whispered throatily. “That was – um – embarrassingly quick, huh?”

You hugged him and kissed the top of his head. “It’s okay, baby,” you giggled softly.

Oliver lay on top of you, panting still. You, too, were breathing hard and trying to get your breath back.

After a few minutes had passed, with the two of you lying there, all wrapped up in each other’s arms, keeping each other safe and warm, and with you running your fingers through Oliver’s soft hair, you suddenly remarked, “You started off all shy, but then you got so into it…”

“Don’t say it like that,” Oliver protested.

“And then you got all overwhelmed.” You giggled again. “Gosh, you’re a lot cuter than I thought.”

“Hey.” Oliver lifted his head. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well.” You looked at him, meaning to tease him incessantly. But the minute you say Oliver, lying on top of you, all spent, but still trying to gaze up at you with a rather serious gaze, you melted.

I can’t tease him when he looks so cute, you thought. And when he worked himself so hard for me.

With a soft sigh, you admitted instead, “It means you’re kind-of wonderful… and sweet… and…”

Your voice trailed off as Oliver shifted forward and kissed you again. Oliver was still slightly breathless, and you could feel the quickness in his breath and correspondingly, in his chest.

You felt so fond of him in this moment that you couldn’t help but to pick up on teasing him again. “So, I must’ve felt good, huh?” you said knowingly. “You were all shy. Didn’t even want to help me take off my jumper. And then, ten minutes later, you were fucking me like an animal. You almost ripped my sheets, you know.”

Oliver, determinedly looking away from you, chose that moment to wonder, “Where’s that soft pillow of yours?”

“Hm? Oh, I think it fell on the floor.” You looked at Oliver and said, with a happy twinkle in your eye, “You were making the whole bed shift at one point. That’s probably when it fell off.”

Discretely hiding his face, Oliver leaned over and picked up the pillow for you. He slotted it under your head. He picked up your shirts, too, and you both slipped them on again.

Oliver laid down beside you. He reached over his hand, until he was gently massaging the back of your head.

Smiling, you rested your head against your soft pillow and savored this moment with Oliver.

“What’s made you so happy?” Oliver asked, seeing you smile. “It’s like your entire energy’s changed.”

Without opening your eyes, you replied easily, “Silly. It’s you.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” You reached out and placed your hand on his chest. “You.”

“Now,” you said, yawning, “I’m going to sleep. If you have to go somewhere, could you please wake me up before you go?”

“Sure,” Oliver promised. But he didn’t want to go anywhere. In fact, as you rolled over to hug your blankets as you drifted off into sleep, he found himself wishing you were closer to him.

A minute later, Oliver, who was quietly falling asleep himself, blearily looked over at you. He sleepily thought that he didn’t quite like how far away you were from him. Still, you looked so peaceful and happy over there, all curled up in your blanket, that the last thing he wanted to do was to disturb you. Instead, he reached out with his hand and gently clutched the back of your shirt with two fingers, as he’d done before several times when he wanted to feel close to you, but didn’t want to bother you, either.

Oliver had never dreamed that you would be afraid of bothering him. Kind-of naive of her, he thought tiredly, to think she’d ever get in my way. When I’ve only ever… wanted her… closer… 

Tagged Users: @imma-too-many-fandoms @saltstacks

[avoidingcertaindoom]

July Break Bingo 2023 -- Haunted

Months after the events of season one, Nancy and Jonathan are still grappling with the aftermath.

(Written for @julybreakbingo​

Can Also be found on AO3 Under the title “Haunted - So Much That Time Cannot Erase)

~~

Things were supposed to return to normal.

By all means it did in all the ways that mattered. There were no strange girls hiding in her basement. The woods didn't hide anything that would have been better off in Mike's games. Will was around again-- maybe not as often, and never a moment to himself, but he was here in flesh and blood and not in a small coffin or limp in a lake. 

Life went on. Per the government, nothing happened. Ted and Karen had agreed to it (of course they did, for them it was nothing) and that was what they had to abide by if they wanted to be left alone. 

And Nancy tried. She went back to school and got back together with Steve, and went along with the all American girl she was supposed to be. She tried. 

But it wasn't the same. 

There wasn't a conspiratorial, if disproving, voice to gossip in class, or beside her locker. No freckly face to brighten her morning, fluffy red hair or cozy cardiganed shoulder to lean on when the obligated silence pressed against her lungs. 

It wasn't a wound that had the opportunity to close; the Hollands were still looking for their "missing" daughter. Poring into every possible lead, asking so many questions, doing the same song and dance the Byers had the past fall with missing posters and searches that all turned up empty. A weekly dinner date had been set up with her and them, Steve tagging along and the four of them just reminiscing. Doing everything but saying the quiet part out loud. Unable to confirm their worst fears or do anything but sink under the heavy weight of guilt. 

Most days it was hard to breathe with the gaping hole in her chest or the yawning void in her day to day life. Some days it was hard to get out of bed. But every day she just had to keep moving.

~

What did it mean to wrestle with guilt?

For Jonathan, it meant dropping a very much needed job so Will would have someone able to meet him or drive him before and after school.

It meant making a point to be exactly where his mother thought he was until she was able to get home.

It meant the nights of hushed whispers in his, Nancy’s, or Steve’s room that were used to postpone sleep and, fewer nights than they’d like, ward off nightmares.

It meant many things, and yet…

He didn’t know if it meant seeing things that weren’t there. He used to be so sure of it but since the demogorgon and the lights and El, what kind of reality was certain anyway?

It’d be easy to test. He’d just have to show the pictures from Will and his friends sledding, from the school parking lot, from basketball games. Just as surely as Nancy had noticed the strange figure hovering near Barb, someone ought to spot or dismiss the bloated, odd smudge that hovered near Nancy, just out of arm’s reach. 

Then they’d also be able to confirm that when the filthy, cracked glasses weren’t staring wistfully at Nancy, they were staring straight at him.

Maybe he didn’t need the confirmation after all, just maybe to take less pictures.

[goldengirlchrissy]

@gareththegreat​ sent “Harder, oh fuck!”

Someone was absolutely hear them. Neither of them were quiet and the Dungeon wasn’t soundproof. But that didn’t stop Hawkins High’s most unusual couple. At first, it was just them making out as normal, their hands clawing at each other, lips swollen with every kiss. That was until Chrissy had pulled Gareth into Eddie’s “throne”, her cheer skirt up around her waist and Gareth’s jeans undone and down around his ankles.

She loved seeing Gareth like this. Writhing and begging for Chrissy. It was one of her favorite sounds, hearing her boyfriend whine and plead for release. It was hard to believe that the obnoxious drummer from her middle school talent show was the same man she was going to marry someday.

She kissed Gareth’s freckly shoulder as she thrust harder, biting at his shoulder. “Holy shit babe, you’re doing so well. You’re taking this so good, my love.” She praised as she thrust against him, her hips slapping against his loudly. “I’m so close, baby....” She said as she felt Gareth orgasm in her. With a final thrust, Chrissy came in Gareth’s lap, her shoulders heaving and sweat dripping down her neck as she screamed into his shoulder.

After catching her breath, Chrissy began to laugh softly, her body shaking with every laugh. “We are so not telling Eddie we fucked in his chair....”

[astarab1aze]

Both brows lofted then, at Kaen's rattling, their nerves clear as the blush on their freckly cheeks and the pin of their ears. It was cute, belying a lack of experience and perhaps a long unwillingness to try. The rat running around in his head would've had him take advantage of that, tease and tease and tease some more, but he didn't feel right about it, and he pulled his pants up the rest of the way.

Kaen's words were encouraging that rat, speaking to it in sweet, shaky tones. As much as he'd have liked to take them into his arms and watch as they eased themself down on his cock - just the one - he felt smarmy, like in some way he'd pressured them to do something they wouldn't ordinarily, and it was never his intention to take. Only to share and enjoy, have the deerling let themself close their eyes and-- Yes, the rat. It was an unfair prospect, in his mind, and like as not he was to get cold feet, he readjusted his clothes and slung an arm around Kaen's shoulders as if nothing at all had happened.

"Nah, 'm only jokin', ma cherie," he crooned, forehead pressing into their temple, stormy gray tracing a path between the freckles on their cheek. He let his nose brush against it slowly, gently, grin firmly intact. "'Sides, wouldn' wan' ya t' do somethin' ya don' seem ready fer. Look atcha, all tha' spittin' an' sputterin' an' th' blushenest cheeks--" He barked a warm laugh, leaving a sloppy kiss an inch from the corner of their eye. Then, quieter, deeper, purring, "Buh iffin ya wan' an inch, I'll give ya th' whole mile, sweet'eart - nex' time, maybe I'll 'ave ya beggin', yeah?"

And he pulled away, adding a bit of flair with a well-timed, noisy, but harmless tap on Kaen's ass, a fiendish look on the fox's face. Exaggerated, playful, willing his erections to go down so he could quickly rid himself of one and ignore the other. He licked his lips and pat their shoulder, free hand sweeping away a stray curl or two.

"'orny as I am, 'm thinkin' waitin's the bes' thing we can do."

Poor creature looks fit to faint , about ready to set a f l a m e right there on the spot at the scene unfolding in front of them ( all bark , no bite , isn’t that how the saying goes ? & your obvious inexperience becomes you , makes you look a fool ) .  Not uncommon does Kaen shoot themself in the foot for running their mouth in such a way , but somehow t h i s ⸺ THIS IS TOO MUCH .  If only because it is coming from Loux , the man made as PERFECT FOIL to all they are ( & what a bastard , he always is — how they’d like to beat him with his own endowment purely to prove the point ! how they’d like to ) .

Insult to injury , indeed ( must he goad them like this ? ) ⸺ 

❝ Dun’ do tha’ — ! ❞ Cannot help but snap at him , eyes following his motions whether own gaze be intentional or not.  Despite themself , perhaps in spite of themself , Kaen cannot deny how RATTLED they are , with stones upon face brazen-burning and own hair crackling brightly , now they think they can be absolved by turning up nose , AVERTING THEIR EYES with a bratty scoff as if at all disinterested ( which would be a lie ) .  The godling may be able to knock him off-kilter with kindness and tenderness , but he holds the aces in this realm ; there’s no competition , no matter how h a r d they try to counter him each time they go about this perverse little routine ( one might think it endearing ) .  And just like e v e r y other time , he’s got them beat.

❝ … 7-8 would be too tight a fit , ❞ Well , ONE MORE prod won’t hurt.  Kaen grits their teeth , sharp points grinding as they try to rein in the rampant rush of their mind and pulse.  They r e f u s e to allow themself to be so heavily impacted.  But they are.  After a moment , they look back at him , a frown in place and ears pinned.  ❝ Ne’er was one t’turn away th’ challenge , though. ❞  A beat , allowing time for the implication to sink in.  ❝ B’sides , ❞ Finally unrooted from the s h o c k of it all , the faun moves , perhaps uncertainly , approaching the shifter , standing near enough to feel his presence – the HEAT which sifts between their bodies , the tangled up knots of TENSION – and no further.  Lips twist into a slight smile , antlered head canting.  ❝ Y’know me , Ah t’ink Ah'd prefer ye at yer bes’. E'ry inch o' ye. ❞

[esperanzagalaxy]

for requests, if you're willing to do something in the garden of yerlick? sasha the knife fairy or cel and their spouse or whatever else you prefer! your art is SO good I could look at it forever

 RQG request #12, a very sweet one. thanks so much for your prompt. i’m actually surprised i didn’t go with sasha the knife fairy (which i sincerely think is a severly underrated line) since doing something about the visitations kind of intimidated me! so i let this one sit for a while and then it just sort of came out of me. the lineart on its own is sincerely very nice, and i was nervous about over-rendering it with the colors, but... i think it’s a lovely result. i’m very happy about the faces. i think they’re all the emotions i wanted. look at cel and yuuko. i might never be able to top that tenderness.

  also, i love my design for feryn, so having the excuse to bust him out was great.

  hope you like it as much as i do <3

 mechanical pencil on cream paper and digital colors.

 ID under the cut!

[ID: an illustration of the party going through the garden of yerlik, accompanied by spirits. it is drawn traditionally with a mechanical pencil, and colored digitally. it shows hamid, zolf, cel, azu and wilde walking with aziza, yuuko,  grizzop and feryn. most of them are in profile, walking from the right to the left. there are tall trunks behind the group, as well as blue betals and cold breezes blowing through. the living and the trees are colored and rendered in cold palettes of purples and blues respectively, while the dead are colored in a flat, warm orange.    from left to right, first in the walking order are aziza and hamid. hamid has his eyes closed, and his head is hanging a little. he has a sad smile on his face. his skin is brown, his hair is darker, curly and slicked back. he's freckly and has a bit of stubble on his chin. his thick coat has a fur-lined hood. just behind him, and leaning forwards to look him in the face, is aziza, who is holding his left hand with both of hers. she has long, wavy hair and expensive jewelry. she has a build and face almost identical to hamid's, rounded, short and fat. she has an elegant dress and a shawl over her shoulders. she's smiling and talking to hamid with interest.    behind them, further back just a little, are cel and yuuko. yuuko is a tall orc with tusks, gentle eyes, and hair done up in a braid that runs along his scalp and then down. he's wearing a plain button-up with an open collar, and a simple waistcoat. he's walking side by side with cel, offering them his left elbow. he's looking at them with moved adoration. cel is white and blond, hair spiky and tall. they're wearing their goggles and a long coat with fur along the sleeves and collar. they're holding onto yuuko's arm with their left hand, and have the right intertwined with his. they're nuzzling into his neck, since he's a little taller. they're smiling, looking melancholic, both sad and elated.    some paces closer to the camera, behind hamid and aziza, are zolf and feryn. zolf is closing his eyes tightly, with his head hanging down, and he's walking with hands balled into fists. his hair is short and white, and his beard is done in a single plait. his coat has no fur on it. he's strong and stocky in build. behind him and one step closer to the camera, is feryn. he has his left hand on his pocket, and tje other on zolf's arm. he's talking to him in an animated manner. they have the same build, with feryn being very slightly taller. he's wearing an old, long coat with a breasplate underneath, and his hair is long and straight, somewhat uneven. his beard is done in three braids.    behind them and behind cel and yuuko are azu and grizzop. azu is looking down and holding the heart of aphrodite necklace in both hands, sad but smiling softly. her eyes are closed. her coat with a wide fur-lined hood is only partially visible. on her shoulders sits grizzop, who also has his arms crossed on top of her head, looking onwards with a cheeky grin. his long coat, plain trousers and boots are visible. he's bald and freckly, with dangling arrow piercings hanging from his long ears.    on the far right, behind them all, is wilde. he's the only one of the living with his eyes open, and he's looking behind them, off to the right to something off-camera. his eyes are wide and he has a surprised, searching expression. his hair reaches his shoulders and is dark brown, with a streak of white on the left side. his coat has a wide fur-lined collar, and there's a rope tied around his waist, tying him to zolf. end ID]

[love-toxin]

Omg imagine if that tall freckly guy in your class was someone Eddie was worried about too! Not because he thought you’d ever cheat on him and hurt him in that way, but because he thought this guy liked being friends with you a little too much, and was a little too close as he spoke so highly of you, his quote unquote friend, in front of the girl who’d just mistaken him for your bf

Definitely not imagining a yandere Eddie threatening this freckly guy after that party

not me repurposing this character from my demon!eddie fic HEHEH >:)

(cw: yandere eddie, non-canon characters)

Peter Molly. the infamous Peter–or Pete, as you too-affectionately refer to him as–looms over Eddie on the carpeted living room floor in the house on the street he'd certainly never pass through without getting stares. but Peter wouldn't, at least not the type that Eddie's used to, because he's just…even he would admit that Pete's attractive, that tamed mop of curly hair sitting just right and his bright-coloured button-up stretching clean and crisp across his broad shoulders. he's a baseball player, and the kid with middle-class parents, and the guy that's attractive enough that his crooked smile is charming, and the explosion of freckles across his face and his chest and his arms are something the girls swoon over rather than mock. he just hates that if you have to be friends with somebody, it's gotta be this guy.

"hey, buddy!" he's much too cheerful for being a little buzzed, the cup in his hand lifted to his lips for a sip of whatever he's got swirling around in there before he sticks his other hand out to him. Eddie can feel you at his side, your tears freshly dried, and your fingers digging into the arm of his jacket. he's just being friendly. he's sure that's what you're saying. so Eddie takes the handshake, feels the strong grip as Pete shakes it with a smile, and pulls him closer just long enough to whisper a "see you on the porch".

minutes later, you've been pacified by leaving you with one of your other friends, your better friends, not that bitch that shot him a smirk when he passed by her to head out the back door. and Eddie stands across from this guy you've been sharing a class with with a shadow over his eyes. he hasn't got a cup anymore. interesting.

"hey, listen, buddy–I'm not after her, I swear. she's my friend. that's all." Pete holds his hands up with a cautious laugh, his demeanor screaming "I'm not a threat, don't view me as one". he's just trying to be friendly?

friendly his ass. Eddie knows that "friendliness", and it has nothing to do with sharing notes or talking about whatever dumb show he's indoctrinated you into. but it does have everything to do with trying to get into your pants, so he can no doubt terrorize him like that other bitchy friend of yours that Eddie just barely restrained himself from cussing out when you both got back into the house.

"she's my girlfriend, so stay the fuck away from her." curious that this is the first time that perfect face twists into something darker, his features blank but not in a mindless way, rather a stoic one that's masking what he really feels. Pete's face becomes stonelike and his brow quirks up, and Eddie knows, he knows that there's something more at play.

"and if I don't?" his voice tempers as it pours out of him, words like liquid gold–pleasantly warm where it is, and yet would no doubt burn his fingers if he dared get any closer.

"then I'll show you why they call me the freak." Eddie doesn't dare to touch him, to hit him, because he'll not only get clocked twice as hard, but he'd be in the wrong and would probably get dogpiled as soon as some passersby saw a punch being thrown. so he settles for shoving past him as he heads back inside, and Pete sighs behind him and runs his fingers back through his curls.

whatever Eddie's feeling right now, the fury that's building off the jealousy that burns so hot behind his eyes that he feels like ripping his own heart out of his chest…..it's not normal. forced conformity.

that's what's killing the kids.

[mblematic]

11, if you want! :)

I DO want!! For the lovely @everythingbutcoldfire , some extremely fluffy fluff! (Prompt from this list!) 

things you said when you were drunk

“Moony.”

Remus ignored this.

“Mooooony.” 

This, also, was ignored.

“Moony. Moony. Moony. Moon Pie. Moonykins.”

This, unfortunately, became steadily harder to ignore. “Yes?” Remus asked, politely. 

“Moony,” Sirius said, and smiled up at him. “I like your face.” 

Remus sighed. “I assumed, rather.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, and sat up. Well—he didn’t so much ‘sit up’ as he did slither, messily, to a slightly more upright lean. “How? I mean—why?” He hiccuped.

“Well,” Remus said. “All the snogging, for one. A bit of the… other stuff. One doesn’t normally spend so much time with one’s tongue down another gent’s throat if one doesn’t at least… appreciate their face.” 

“I more than appreciate your face,” Sirius said, very solemnly. “I like your face. It’s my favorite face.” 

Remus smiled at him. “I like your face, too.” He paused, then gently nudged Sirius’ shoulder. “Listen, we are only five feet from the bed at this point—” 

“Moony—” Sirius said, interrupting him. “Imagine we lived in a world—” 

“Oh God,” Remus said, eyes closing. “Pads. We’re five feet away. We’re so close. It’s taken us ages to get up the stairs, could you just—” 

“No, Moony, Moony, listen,” Sirius said, gripping Remus’ shoulder. “Imagine we lived in a world, right—” 

“Where we got into beds? Where we avoided sleeping on the floor and waking up with massive hangovers and splinters in our cheeks?” 

“I’m sure the house elves have sanded the floors down—no—Moony, listen to me: imagine—” 

“We lived in a world, yes—” 

“Where we could only see one face, right?” 

Remus blinked. “Erm.” 

“Like, people—people’s faces—their noses and eyes and nostrils and eyebrows and lips and teeth—” 

“Their faces, right, got it—” 

“Their faces were all blurred out, like.”

“Uh huh,” Remus said. “Except for one.”

“Right,” Sirius said, enthusiastically. “One face, we could see.”

“One each?”

“Right! And—this is the crucial part—only our favorite face.” Sirius hiccuped. 

“Like a soulmates thing?”

“Eurgh, no. Like, we have to choose.” 

“Okay,” Remus said. “So first we see them all?”

Sirius’ brow furrowed. “Hm?”

“Well, we’d have to evaluate all the faces. Otherwise we’d all just pick our mums, I imagine. Imprinting, and all that.” 

“Eurgh,” Sirius said again. Then he thought about it. “Okay, yes, we see them all—for a while. Like, until you’re… of age. Seventeen.”

“And then you have to choose one.”

“Exactly,” Sirius said, satisfied. “Just one.” 

“What if you reach the ancient, decrepit age of seventeen and you haven’t found your face?” Remus asked, trying to gently lever Sirius into a sitting position, and, hopefully, into an eventual moving-towards-the-bed position. 

Sirius frowned. “Well—well—then you get another year, I ‘spose. Look—that’s not the point.” 

“Oh, is there one?” 

“Yes,” Sirius said staunchly. “Yes, there bloody is. A point.” 

Remus waited. After a minute, he gently prodded: “And it is…?” 

“Oh,” Sirius said, opening his eyes. “Yes. The point is—” He stopped, hiccuped again, then continued: “I would pick your face.” 

Remus went very slightly pink. “Oh.” 

“Yes,” Sirius said, warming to the topic. “I would pick your face, forever. Even though,” he said, significantly; “It would mean giving up Dumbledore’s magnificently twinkly eyes. And McGoogle’s glare of death.” He paused. “Well, that would be easy to give up, actually. But James! I would give up James’ face for you. I would give up Lily, even. And you know she gets all radiant and freckly when she’s caught a bit of sun.” 

“She does.” Remus was still blushing. “That’s—er—very nice of you. Giving up Lily.” 

“Yes,” Sirius agreed. “It is. But it’s because you—” He prodded Remus soundly in the chest; “—have my favorite. Face.” 

“You’ve my favorite face, too,” Remus said, and leaned down to kiss him lightly. When Sirius stretched up to kiss him more deeply, Remus quickly slid an arm under his shoulders and levered him to ninety degrees. “Come on, Pads. Bed. It’s right there. We’re so close.” 

“But the floor is right here,” Sirius said, in wheedling tones. “And so am I.” 

“You’ll regret it,” Remus warned. “I’ll regret it.” 

“Surely not,” Sirius said, and fluttered his eyelashes. “Let’s test the theory.” 

Remus sighed, and looked towards the bed. It looked very far away, all of a sudden. Sirius was very heavy, and he was very tired. He supposed the house elves were quite good at sanding the floorboards, really. “Merlin save me,” he said, and gently lowered Sirius to the floor. “Or my back, anyway.” 

Sirius stretched contentedly, then reached up and pulled Remus down to the floor as well. “Lie down,” he said firmly. Remus obeyed. They curled up, two puddles of boy and robes merging into one. Remus could already feel Sirius’ breath deepen and slow. 

“Pads,” he said, quietly. 

“Mmm?” Sirius responded, barely awake.

“If you can only see one face, does that mean you couldn’t see your own reflection?” 

There was a long, long pause. Then Sirius said: “Imagine a world where you could only see two faces—” 

[the-iceni-bitch]

Wonderful and Warm

Every Other Freckle

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader (OTP, ninja and puppy)

Words: ~1.4K

Summary: Naked sunbathing has its benefits.

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (m receiving oral sex, cum swallowing, lazy sex, mentions of borderline excessive sexy times) so much fluff, soft babies, SMUT!!! 18+ ONLY!!!

A/N: I just love them so much, they are literally everything 😭

I am no longer doing taglists so if you want to stay up to date on all the latest filth, follow my sideblog @the-iceni-library and turn on notifications!

You hummed to yourself as you nuzzled your face against Ransom’s shoulder, purring when he held a slice of mango up for you and taking it between your lips. The two of you were sprawled over the swing as you watched the sunset, taking a break from the almost 72 hours of straight fucking you had indulged in and just enjoying each other’s company as you rocked slowly over the warm water of the pool. Both of you were drunk on the fruity rum cocktails you were sipping on, but even more so on each other.

“How you feel, baby?” He traced his fingers over your arm lightly as he pressed his lips to your temple, cooing when you rubbed your nose over his throat and pulling you closer as he took another sip of his cocktail. “You gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

“Probably not.” You sighed as you gazed at him, giving him a lazy grin when he kissed your cheek and his stupid long eyelashes tickled your skin. “Good thing we’re riding.”

“Uh-huh.” He leaned back and started skimming his fingers along the curve of your spine, tangling a leg between yours as he dragged the toes of the other over the top of the water. “Little disappointed we’re gonna have to wear clothes though.”

“Yeah, me too.” You stretched so you could mouth at the curve of his cheek, swatting his chest when he took a playful squeeze of your ass. “Love watching your skin get all freckly and cute.”

“What? Cute?” He scrunched up his face adorably when you started kissing each new spot that decorated the bridge of his nose, wriggling a little when your fingers squeezed his sides. “You’re cute.”

“I know, but we’re talking about you, puppy.” You bit his plush bottom lip before moving to his shoulders, winding your arms around him as you traced the trail of tiny pigmentations with your mouth. “Fucking adorable is what you are.”

Your grin got even wider when a sweet flush started to creep up his chest, gazing at him through your lashes and pressing your lips to the constellation of freckles that were scattered over his chest as he breathed deeply and whined. His body arched toward your face when you flicked your tongue out to trace the ridges of his abs, dipping it into his navel and nuzzling at his happy trail as you kept moving lower.

“Baby, hey.” He reached down to cup your cheek as you rested your chin on his stomach, smiling warmly when you nipped at the pad of his thumb when he traced it along your lips. “I love you so much.”

“Mm, I love you too, puppy.” You leaned into his touch and let your eyes flutter closed for a beat, winking at him when you opened them again before starting to kiss along the just of his hip. “Wonder if there’s freckles on your cock.”

“And you ruined it.” He couldn’t stop from laughing when you blew a raspberry against his thigh, hooking a knee over your shoulder and rolling his hips towards your face while you rubbed your face into the well trimmed hair at his base and breathed deeply.

“What? Love this pretty cock too.” You grinned at him as you grabbed his base and gave him a little shake, humming when you felt him jump in your hand as you rubbed your lips over his leaking tip in a lewd display. “Could look at him all fucking day. Hey, there’s one!”

You licked the freckle you had spotted on the side of his shaft and he hissed, his hips rolling towards your face when you tapped the spongy head of his dick on your cheek as you licked a heavy stripe along his length. Your hand tightened around him and once he was coated in your spit you gave him a slow stroke, choking your grip once you reached his swollen head and making him groan.

Ransom let his eyes flutter closed when you ducked between his legs to mouth at his balls, rolling his heavy sack over your tongue and humming around him as you kept moving your fist over his dick in long tugs. He rested his hand on the back of your head when you hummed again, the vibration sending a jolt of pleasure up his spine and making him shiver. You gave one last pull on his full sack with your lips before planting wet kisses up the underside of his shaft, letting his dick rest heavy against your face as he leaked precum all over your cheek and gazed at you with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Unh, baby… shit.” He gave you one of those pretty whines you took his weeping tip in your mouth and moaned, rolling his whole body into your face as you swirled your tongue around him. “God, that’s so fucking good.”

You just hummed agreement as you kept moving your head up and down nice and slow, twisting your head each time and making sure you tasted every bit of him as you kept groaning your satisfaction. It only took four slides of your soft lips over his length before he was sliding down your throat, the leg he had flung over your shoulder wrapping tighter around your back as he whimpered at the feeling of you swallowing around him. He ground his hips up into your mouth when you rubbed your nose into the hair that decorated his base, purring when you gave him a sloppy gag in response but kept your lips tight around him.

One more squeeze of your throat around him and he let out a shout, his hips stuttering against your face as he pumped his cum into your eager mouth. You moaned as you swallowed everything he gave you, rolling his balls through your fingers as you used your tongue to milk him dry.

“Fuck, I really do love this cock.” You grinned up at him when you let him slide from between your lips with a lewd pop, pressing wet kisses all over his hips and thighs as he panted heavily underneath you. “God, you know I can’t get enough of you, puppy.”

“Yeah? It’s mutual.” He let out a small chuckle when you brushed your fingers behind his knee, kicking you playfully as you nibbled at the soft skin of his inner thigh. “That tickles.”

“It’s supposed to.” You squeezed behind his knee and he yelped, trying to squirm away from you and cackling when you blew a raspberry against his hip. “C’mon puppy, I wanna see how many freckles are on that ass. Flip over.”

Ransom squealed when you sank your teeth into his thigh and smacked his tit at the same time, bucking wildly and accidentally flinging you off him so you landed in the water with a shriek. He laughed even harder when you popped back up, spluttering and scowling at him while he just lazed back in the swing.

“That’s what you fucking get.” He chortled when you splashed him, grabbing his drink and taking a sip as you grumbled at him all cute. “Don’t you get all hissy kitty with me, it’s your own fault.”

“You fucking brat.” You growled at him before a wicked grin split your face, Ransom shaking his head and preparing to scold you more as you prowled towards him dangerously.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything before you were lunging out of the water and wrapping your arms around him, making him shout when you dragged him into the water with a massive splash as the two of you grappled. You laughed when he flung you over his shoulder and slapped your ass, squeaking when he bit at your thighs before dropping you back down until your legs were wrapped around his waist.

“You’re the damn brat.” He cooed when you ran your nose against his and purred, your fingers pushing his wet hair out of his eyes while he leaned back so the two of you could float towards the edge. “Let’s go shower and eat, then I think I’m gonna fuck you under the stars.”