#maybe if he took off the sweater he wouldn’t be so hot

[frnkiebby]

i need answers NOW~🎃

[selinay-in-wonderland]

ART THE CLOWN X FEMALE READER (CHRISTMAS EVE) 🎄🍪

—————————————————————————-

It was a quiet Christmas Eve. The kind you liked most. The warmth of your little home contrasted with the snow falling gently outside. You’d just finished putting away the small decorations, the soft glow of twinkling lights reflecting off the windows. Your modest tree stood by the corner, decked with ornaments you’d collected over the years—nothing extravagant, just little pieces that made you smile.

You hadn’t planned on having company. You rarely did. Between your shyness and social anxiety, you preferred the quiet of your home, where things were predictable, where you didn’t have to worry about what people thought of you.

You curled up on the couch, your oversized sweater enveloping you like a cozy hug, and sipped from your mug of hot chocolate. It was the perfect night—a small, peaceful Christmas Eve all to yourself.

But then, you heard it.

A soft creak. The sound of footsteps, almost imperceptible but there.

You sat up, your heart skipping a beat. It wasn’t the wind, and you knew it wasn’t the creaky old floorboards. You hadn’t left the door unlocked�� had you?

Before you could fully process the thought, the footsteps grew louder, closer. Your pulse quickened as you stood, holding your mug like a fragile shield.

Then, out of the shadows of the dimly lit hallway, he appeared.

A man—no, a clown—stepped into your living room, dressed in a stained, tattered Santa Claus suit. The fur lining of his costume was yellowed with age, and the red fabric was smudged with dark stains you didn’t want to examine too closely. His white, painted face was frozen in a grotesque grin, black eyes gleaming as they locked onto yours.

You gasped, dropping your mug, the hot chocolate spilling onto the floor, but you were too stunned to care. Your mind raced—Who was this? How did he get in? But your body froze, your usual response to confrontation kicking in. It wasn’t that you weren’t scared—you were—but fear for you often manifested as being trapped, unable to react.

Art the Clown stood there, perfectly still, his head tilted to one side, his black lips stretched into that eerie, permanent smile. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just watched you, as if waiting to see what you would do.

You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. This had to be some kind of prank, right? Someone dressed as a clown for Christmas? Maybe one of your neighbors playing a joke?

But as your eyes met his, you realized there was something off about him—something much darker. There was no mischief in his eyes, no playful spark. Just emptiness. And yet, despite the eerie stillness of his body, you sensed that he was studying you, just as confused by your reaction as you were by his presence.

Your instinct told you to run, to scream, but instead, you took a step back, your voice barely a whisper. “Who… are you?”

Art didn’t respond. Of course, he wouldn’t. His silence was his trademark. Instead, he raised one gloved hand slowly, mimicking a wave—mocking, almost theatrical. His smile stretched wider as if to say, Look, I’m friendly.

Your heart pounded in your chest, but instead of running, you stood there, frozen by a strange combination of fear and curiosity. You had always seen the good in people. Always. Even when it didn’t make sense. It wasn’t that you were naïve—you just believed that there was always something redeemable in everyone. Maybe this person, dressed up like Santa, had some kind of reason for being here. Maybe it was a misunderstanding.

“I-I don’t know who you are,” you said quietly, your voice trembling. “But… if you need something, I can help.”

That’s when Art’s grin faltered ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing in confusion. He took a step closer, his movements eerily graceful, like a predator assessing its prey. But there was no malice in his expression—just that unsettling, twisted amusement, tinged with curiosity. He was intrigued by you, by your calmness, your lack of panic.

You took another step back, your breath shaky. “It’s… Christmas Eve,” you added, feeling ridiculous for trying to explain something so obvious. “Are you lost?”

Art mimicked a deep, exaggerated frown, his shoulders slumping dramatically as if he were the one in need. His gloved hands fluttered to his chest in mock despair, his entire body language shifting to exaggerate the sadness you had suggested.

You blinked, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Was this really happening? A murderous-looking clown was in your living room, dressed as Santa, miming some bizarre performance in response to your kindness.

Your kind nature kicked in again—the part of you that wanted to see the best in people, that always assumed there was a reason behind even the strangest behavior. He was miming like a performer, sure, but maybe he didn’t mean any harm. Maybe he just needed help, attention, or… you didn’t even know anymore.

“I-I have cookies,” you stammered, not sure what else to say. “If… if you’re hungry?”

Art’s eyes gleamed at the offer, and he straightened up, his smile returning in full force. He gave you an enthusiastic thumbs-up, his head nodding vigorously. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of relief wash over you. Was he seriously accepting your offer of cookies?

You moved slowly toward the kitchen, your body tense as you kept an eye on him. He followed, his movements completely silent, gliding almost like a shadow behind you. The only sound was the faint jingle of the bells on his Santa hat.

Your hands trembled as you reached for the plate of Christmas cookies you had baked earlier. You set them down on the kitchen counter, your heart racing as you tried to process what was happening.

Art leaned forward, inspecting the cookies with exaggerated interest. He picked one up, held it to his ear, and gave a comical nod of approval before pretending to take a huge bite out of it. His body convulsed in an exaggerated chewing motion, as if savoring the flavor, though he didn’t actually eat it.

A nervous laugh escaped you, surprising even yourself. Despite the fear gnawing at your insides, there was something about his antics that almost made you forget the danger. Almost.

He pointed to the cookies, then back to you, giving you a thumbs-up. You nodded, unsure of what else to do. “Y-You’re welcome,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Then, without warning, Art’s eyes narrowed, his smile twisting into something more mischievous. He reached into the sack slung over his shoulder and pulled out a small, wrapped present. He held it out to you, wiggling it slightly in his hand, as if daring you to take it.

You hesitated. The wrapping paper was torn and stained, and something about the way he presented it made you uneasy. But then again, everything about this situation made you uneasy.

With shaky hands, you reached out and took the gift. It was light, almost weightless, and you had no idea what could be inside. You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest as you carefully peeled back the paper.

Inside was a small, cracked snow globe. The glass was chipped, and the tiny house inside was barely visible through the clumps of fake snow stuck to the bottom. It was… sad, really. Broken.

You stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Art, unsure of how to respond. “Thank you,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

Art’s eyes flickered with something you hadn’t seen before—confusion. He wasn’t used to this. To someone accepting his strange gestures with such sincerity, such gratitude. His smile faltered for just a second, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of you.

Then, in a swift motion, he straightened up, his grin returning in full force. He mimed tipping a hat to you, his body language exaggerated and theatrical, before turning on his heel and gliding back toward the door.

You stood there, clutching the snow globe, your mind racing. What had just happened? Who was this man—this clown? And why hadn’t he hurt you? He could have easily… but he hadn’t.

As Art reached the door, he paused, turning back to look at you one last time. His eyes lingered on you, and for a brief moment, you saw something beneath the eerie exterior. Confusion. Curiosity. Maybe even a flicker of… respect?

Without another sound, he disappeared into the night, the door closing softly behind him.

You stood there for a long time, staring at the spot where he had been. Your heart was still racing, but the fear had faded into something else—something more complex. You had no idea who he was or why he had come to your house, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.

As you sat in the soft glow of your living room, your gaze drifted back to the broken snow globe resting on the mantle. It seemed almost magical, despite its fractured state. Intrigued, you picked it up again, cradling it in your hands and feeling the weight of its history. The delicate glass felt cool against your skin, and the world within it was still, waiting for your curiosity to stir it to life.

You tilted the globe gently, watching the tiny flakes of faux snow swirl around. With a soft shake, you let it settle again, and that’s when you noticed it. Nestled among the miniature decorations of a quaint little house was a small figure, partially obscured by the swirling snow.

You leaned closer, your heart quickening as you focused on the little scene within. As the snow began to settle, the figure came into full view, and you gasped, your breath hitching in your throat.

Inside the globe stood a miniature version of Art the Clown, perfectly crafted in exquisite detail. He wore a tiny Santa suit, complete with bright red fabric adorned with fluffy white trim. The suit hugged his small frame, the colors vibrant against the stark white of the snow. His face was painted in the signature stark white, with exaggerated black eyebrows arched in a playful expression. His lips curled into a wide, almost mischievous grin, revealing sharp little teeth, which only added to the character’s charm rather than fright.

A tiny Santa hat was perched atop his head, tilted to one side, and it danced slightly as the globe settled. His eyes were bright and lively, capturing the essence of the man you had just encountered—curious yet playful, a mix of innocence and mischief. It was almost as if he was beckoning you to join in on some festive fun, despite the bizarre nature of his presence.

Around him, the miniature landscape was adorned with tiny gifts, faux snowflakes, and even a small, decorated Christmas tree. The entire scene felt alive, imbued with a strange magic that made your heart swell. You could almost hear the jingle of distant bells, feel the warmth of Christmas spirit that enveloped the globe.

Then, without warning, a chill swept through the room, causing you to shiver slightly.

Suddenly, the glass of the globe cracked, sending a shockwave through the room. You gasped and dropped it, but instead of shattering, the globe exploded in a burst of shimmering mist that filled the air, swirling like smoke.

Out of the mist, a shadow emerged, and your breath caught in your throat as Art materialized before you, stepping out from the darkness, his expression eerily calm. He was right there, in your living room, just as he had been before—but somehow more solid, more real.

His eyes locked onto yours, an intense gaze that spoke volumes, and yet he remained silent. The room felt charged with tension, the air thick with a mix of fear and something you couldn’t quite identify. He took a slow step closer, and your heart raced, caught between terror and an inexplicable attraction to his dark presence.

As he approached, you couldn’t look away. His costume was slightly tattered, his face painted with the same twisted smile, but now it felt oddly intimate in the closeness of the moment. You felt drawn to him, despite everything that screamed to run away.

But then you noticed something—your heartbeat echoed in your ears, and for a split second, you thought you saw vulnerability flash in his eyes. Was it possible? Could there be more to him than the monster you feared?

The lights flickered again, casting a warm glow that softened the edges of his terrifying appearance. In that moment, it felt as though time stood still. You could either embrace the fear or take a step forward, drawn by an unexplainable connection.

And just like that, as if sensing your hesitation, he reached out a gloved hand, palm up, inviting you to choose. The gesture was both terrifying and strangely comforting.

You took a deep breath, knowing you were standing at a crossroads—one path leading back to safety and the other into the darkness, where the lines of fear and fascination blurred.

You reached out, hesitantly placing your hand in his, feeling the coolness of his touch. A rush of emotions surged between you, as if the moment had the power to change everything. In that shared silence, you realized that despite the horror, you felt more alive than you had in a long time.

As you held his hand, the atmosphere shifted. The air thickened with unspoken promises, and Art's eyes glimmered with a dark intensity that sent shivers down your spine. He leaned closer, and without a word, he began to move, guiding you into a slow, hesitant dance.

Your heart raced, a mix of fear and thrill coursing through your veins. The world outside faded, leaving only the soft flickering of Christmas lights and the haunting melody of a distant carol. Art twirled you gently, his grip firm yet surprisingly tender. It felt surreal, as if you were trapped in a dream where the lines between danger and desire blurred into an intoxicating haze.

You moved in sync, the dance a strange blend of elegance and unease. Every step felt like a delicate negotiation—a silent agreement between you two. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was what it felt like to make a deal with the devil: exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly captivating.

As he spun you around, the shadows danced along the walls, elongating and twisting in the soft light. You found yourself laughing softly, the sound escaping your lips before you could stop it. Art paused, his head tilting slightly, as if confused by the sound. You were surprised by your own reaction—how could you be laughing when you were dancing with a killer?

But then, you looked into his eyes, and something shifted. In that moment, the darkness around him seemed to melt away, revealing a glimmer of humanity beneath the surface. There was a vulnerability in his gaze that resonated with you, a reminder that even the most monstrous of beings could yearn for connection.

He pulled you closer, the warmth of his body contrasting with the chill that had initially filled the room. It was as if the dance was a ritual, sealing the unspoken bond that had formed between you. The world outside was forgotten; all that mattered was this moment.

With each step, you felt your fears dissipate, replaced by an unexpected thrill. The gentle sway of your bodies, the rhythm of your hearts—it was intoxicating. This was no longer just a dance; it felt like a pact. You were choosing to embrace the darkness, to see past the clownish façade and into the depths of his enigmatic soul.

Then, just as you thought you were losing yourself completely, Art’s expression shifted. His grin widened, revealing a playful glint in his eyes. With a sudden burst of energy, he spun you out, your body twirling in a flourish. Laughter bubbled up again, this time more freely, filled with exhilaration and delight.

He drew you back in, and the moment was electric. You could feel the weight of the world pressing against you, the realization that this was a moment you’d never forget. In the quiet chaos of the dance, you found a kind of freedom—one that defied the boundaries of fear and embraced the beauty of the unknown.

And then, as the music faded into the background, you locked eyes with Art, the reality of the moment crashing down around you. You both stood on the precipice of something dangerous, something that could change you forever.

With a breathless smile, you knew that the dance was more than just movement; it was a shared understanding that you were both caught in this dark world together.

In that instant, you realized you weren’t just dancing with a monster—you were dancing with a soul that craved connection, just as you did.

The shadows flickered around you as you continued to sway in silence, knowing that, in this moment, you had forged a bond that was both thrilling and terrifying—an unbreakable contract made in the stillness of Christmas Eve.

[amongemeraldclouds]

Things I’ll Never Say

Why say things out loud when you can write them all down in a journal? No need to inconvenience everyone else with silly declarations of love that’s only guaranteed to break your heart. So what happens when your enemy - of all people - finds it?

Lorenzo Berkshire x Reader

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

Thanks to @thatdammchickennugget for the prompt. Here's my official entry for the Hogmarch challenge, prompt one. 1k words.

Author’s note: The way I screamed when this idea came to mind! Journaling is such a big part of my life, I’ll take any and every chance I can to incorporate it to my stories.

Indented text are journal entries.

Warning: Cursing, no use of y/n, slight angst but it’s kinda cute. Fluff express coming through!

✿ Masterlist

“Stop copying my notes!” I hiss at Lorenzo, moving my arm to cover my parchment.

“Come on, I missed class today. I need to catch up,” he says, tugging at the arm of my sweater.

“Go ask your friends,” I retort, moving my arm away from his grasp.

“You know they’re not in that class, just you,” he insists.

“Oh we’re not friends,” I deadpan.

“It won’t take long,” he tries again.

“If you weren’t busy sleeping around with everyone, Berkshire. You would have made it to class this morning.”

 He leans in to my ear and whispers, “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I grab the nearest hardbound book and swing it in his direction. Thwack! It strikes his shoulder.

The librarian looks at us sternly. “Your final warning was just given five minutes ago. No noise in the library!” She points her finger to the exit, “You two, out!”

“Great. Thanks for that, Berkshire. Good luck with your notes.” My face gets hot with embarrassment as I gather my things and rush off to the exit.

Enzo spots a black leather bound journal in the area you just vacated. He takes it with him as he exits the library. She’s always writing in this notebook. I’m sure she won’t mind if I take a peek, I’ll give it back to her anyway.

He damn well knew you would mind. When he reaches a quiet corner of the hallway, he proceeds to turn the cover anyway.

I know, I know. I’m not supposed to like Lorenzo Berkshire. Why the fuck did I just draw a heart over the “i”! That’s it. I’m losing my mind! I can’t be caught liking the boy who spewed the word mudblood in my direction our first year. Like it’s my fault I was born into my family. And screw him okay, muggles are awesome. I can break my own heart with my misguided affections, but I’d rather die before I ever let him break my heart. So before I check myself into a mental asylum, I need to just say this somewhere. Anywhere. A last ditch effort to save my sanity.

He’s the intrusive thought I love to entertain in my head.

As a dare, he took off his shirt at the party. My toes curled. I pretended not to notice him.

I heard him laughing with his friends. I love the way it lit up his face.

I saw him enter his dorm hand in hand with a girl. I never wish to be her, another one night stand. Once would never be enough. 

I nearly kissed him again.

He helped me pick up the pile of books I dropped at the library. He seemed kind and concerned. Ha! Who am I kidding?

I count down the hours until I see him again.

Maybe in another lifetime it wouldn’t matter: bloodlines, social status, and hierarchies. So unnecessary.

I noticed the veins in his arm at quidditch practice. I tried not to bite my lip. What must it be like to be wrapped in those arms?

And there he was again with his stupid hair breaking my stupid heart.

Enzo hears determined footsteps approaching and he shuts the journal, hiding it behind him.

“Fine, Berkshire,” I sigh when I reach him. “Here, take my notes,” I say, handing it out to him.

He quirks an eyebrow.

“Weren’t you so desperate to get them earlier?” I fold my arms. “I will not be part of the reason you fail in class.” I point at him, “you and your dumb ass can very well do it yourself. I have more important things to worry about.”

“Is it that, or is it because you’re in love with me?”

My brain short circuits, the fire freezing in my veins. How the hell does he know?

He smirks, pulling out a familiar black journal. My eyes widen.

“On second thought,” I say, stepping back. “It doesn’t matter,” I turn around and walk away. “Fail class for all I care.”

I’m yanked back when I feel Enzo’s grip on my wrist. “Wait.”

My heart thumps in my chest. Holy shit. Holy shit. Holy shit. He knows!

“I’m sorry,” he says. What? I turn back, my confused expression directed at him.

“That I called you a mudblood,” he explains. “I was a dumb ass when we were younger.”

“Finally, we agree on something,” I state, trying to mask the tremble in my voice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you back then and I was prejudiced. Over the years, I enjoyed watching your passion for magic and studying. How you light up when you talk to your friends about a book you just read. And how you’re always the first to volunteer when someone needs help. You have this fire and warmth in you and I just need to be around it all the time. I’m reduced to being a moth to your flame and I don’t mind it at all.”

I blink, speechless.

He takes a step forward, voice softening. “Why do you think I tease you all the time?”

“Well how the fuck was I supposed to know?” The anger not quite there in my voice.

“I just wanted a chance to talk to you and I thought you hated me.” He brushes the hair from my face and cups my face. “Clearly, I was wrong.”

I roll my eyes, “Oh no, I do hate you.” I falter, “but maybe I kind of, just sort of, like you too.”

He grins. “It seems there are things we need to talk about. Will you go on a date with me?”

My heart stutters. “You already know my answer.”

He laughs, “stubborn as always. I’ll take that as a yes.” He pulls me in for a hug. 

Oh. Being wrapped in his strong arms is even better than I imagined. I rest my head on his shoulder when a thought occurs to me.

“You’re sure this is not just some elaborate ploy for me to keep giving you my notes?”

He sighs, “of course not, just enjoy this moment."

He moves his mouth to my ear, "But if you do, I solemnly swear I will make it worth your while.”

I don't hit him this time.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: For those who get the Avril Lavigne title reference, here's a tight hug for you! ♡

I may or may not have also had a place where I wrote down love confessions for someone I couldn’t have. Some of those may or may not have been included in the journal entries.

Two fics published in one day? Who is she?

[badgerbl00d]

what makes one piece boys consider fatherhood

☆ characters: sanji, law, shanks

☆ up next: one piece boys experiencing love at first sight

☆ summary: things you do around these characters that make them think of starting families with you..

☆ a/n: this was so fun to write! i hope you all find this as cute as i did :)

sanji

1k words

“But the prince insisted on it, and they had to call Cinderella. She first washed her hands and face clean, and then went and bowed down before the prince, who gave her the golden shoe..” you looked down at the now sleeping lump on your lap, and gently closed the book. 

“Looks like he’s out.”

Further out on the deck of the Sunny, you could hear the others playing. You identified Usopp’s voice and Luffy's laughter. 

Chopper had fallen asleep to his bedtime story and was out cold on your lap. His tiny breaths were slow and even. 

“He’s been sleeping for at least ten minutes. You know, if you read to him every night he’d probably have an actual bedtime,” Sanji said, his chin resting in his hand. 

He was sitting next to you, having brought you a drink to offset the evening temperature drop that had sent everyone running for sweaters. 

“I know. But he’s a pirate, Sanji,” you defended Chopper’s sleeping schedule, “And he’s old enough now to not need a bedtime.”

“Ah, maybe. But not too old, it seems, for a bedtime story.”

You rolled your eyes, absent-mindedly rubbing Chopper’s back as he slept.

“You know Luffy scraped his knee, playing around with Usopp all day.”

“You don’t say.”

“I swear I’ve seen him come out of battle with less injury,” you laughed, “I patched it up for him and he said he didn’t know I was a doctor.”

“I’m guessing all you did was clean it and put on a band-aid.”

“No idea how he’s made it this long.”

Sanji smiled as he took in a long drag of his cigarette. 

“Don’t smoke around Chopper while he sleeps,” you said, scolding Sanji yet again for the same thing.

He blew out the smoke, before begrudgingly putting it out on the ground.

“Wouldn’t wanna wake the baby,” he said. 

“He looks so peaceful,” you giggled, “I’m glad he feels safe enough to be resting thoroughly.”

You and the cook shared a long look at how his chest rose and fell. 

He would soon be snoring.

Sanji laughed, “My god! Are you sure you didn’t slip melatonin into his hot chocolate?”

You shot him a look.

“He spent all day running around with those two over there,” you gestured towards Luffy and Usopp, “And Robin had him helping her out in the library earlier. Between all that reading and running I’m sure he tired himself out. Does he look comfortable?”

Sanji nodded, smiling at you. 

You softly removed his hat from his head, setting it down next to him. 

“Should we take him to bed?” you asked Sanji.

“Yes. Eventually. But it’s nice out. Let’s go in ten minutes.” “All right, my love.”

You leaned back, letting your arms support your body weight, palms against the wooden planks of the ship. 

Sanji scooted closer to you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.

You closed your eyes, not to sleep but to enjoy the cool air on your face and neck. 

Listening to the sounds of laughter and footsteps come to an end for the day as sleep started to spread throughout the crew.

Sanji silently watched you, unaware of your own dozing off with Chopper on your lap.

He thought about how readily you read him a story from his favorite book. How concern for his well-being had become your number one priority while he was with you. 

He felt his chest swell with a mixture of pride and love as he thought of all the other ways you cared for the crew.

Sewing Nami’s torn clothes, helping Robin with the laundry, reminding Usopp and Luffy to be mindful of their manners, and even making sure the swordsman was getting rest. 

He brought a hand to your back to lightly rub it, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before gazing out at the open ocean. 

Thoughts of painting a room with soft hues of blue and building a crib started to form in the back of his mind. 

He imagined you carrying a baby, softly singing it to sleep. 

Some unfamiliar feeling tugged at his chest, it almost felt like anticipation. 

He took a deep breath and tried, to no avail, to direct his thoughts elsewhere.

A baby was- a lot. And you seemed perfectly content now. 

And anyways, a pirate ship was no place for a baby.

He sighed and pulled his eyes away from you, settling them back on the sea. 

Yet, he could imagine it.

With astounding clarity.

He could imagine buying diapers and binkies. Buying tiny clothes and matching outfits. 

Waking you up in the morning with breakfast and coffee in a house of your own. 

Coming home to you every night, staying in one place.

Your parents visiting and your lives being somewhat normal.

No bounties or navy or treaties or bars or women or swordsmen. 

But not now.

The soft swaying of the ship on choppy waters lulled him back to where he was.

The sounds of life at sea slowly came back to him. 

It was late and he had an early morning, full of cooking for the Pirate King ahead of him. 

“Sweetheart,” he softly spoke in your ear, ever so gently nudging you awake, “Let’s get to bed, hm?”

You yawned, nodding.

Slowly you picked up Chopper, still dead asleep, and carried him down the stairs toward his room.

Sanji followed right behind, the reindeer’s hat in hand. 

He opened the door for you and you walked in laying him down in his bed, pressing a quick kiss to his forehead.

You stood next to Sanji, bringing your arms around his waist.

He kissed the top of your head, and then your forehead, and then your lips. 

“Tired, princess?”

You nodded, resting your head on his chest. 

Sanji knew what he wanted. 

What you, so fondly looking down at the sleeping reindeer, wanted as well.

But you both had so much time and so many things to do first.

One day, he’d give you everything you wanted.

But for now, he’d carry you to bed.

law

0.7k words

“Okay, what about this one? Or is it too much?”

You turned towards Law, trying to smooth out the leftover wrinkles in your dress.

“You look beautiful in all of them,” Law said, writing something down, only halfway paying attention. 

You groaned, already starting to try on a different dress.

“You’re not paying attention.”

“I am.”

“Law, you haven’t looked up from your notes once. And you can’t just tell me I’m beautiful in everything to make up for it!”

“Well, you are.”

“Ugh!”

A smile spread on his face at your irritation with him, as he continued to go through the loose papers on his desk. 

“Look, here’s a dress that proves you wrong.”

You slowly spun around in a hideously fringed orange dress.

You flashed him a sarcastically large smile.

Law, to your surprise, did look up this time.

“Gorgeous.”

He spun around in his chair, burying his head back in his notebook. 

“Ugh, asshole.”

You sighed and continued to fish through the pile of dresses. 

You spotted a black lace one with a gorgeous neckline. 

Much better. 

“Ok, fine! I look beautiful in everything, especially this dress,” you pulled it down over your head, adjusting the sleeves, “Please confirm.”

You watched Law slide on his glasses and turn the chair back around slowly.

You laughed, “You’re so immature.”

You enjoyed the rare moments when he allowed himself to completely relax and goof off. 

“Just making sure I can give you an honest score, Miss Y/n.”

Oh.. this, he very much did like. 

“Orange dress better,” he lied, amused at how this provoked you.

He kept his eyes glued on you, admiring how snug the dress was on your curves.

You were going to kill him. 

“You know, it’s a good thing we don’t have a kid. Or I’d have to deal with two children.”

Law was just as intently eating up the sight of you. 

He’d meant every bit of it. You were always beautiful in everything, and in nothing. 

But that had caught his attention.

The idea of having a kid. 

You and him with a baby.

You kept sorting through what remained of the pile as your captain's thoughts trailed. He could imagine it clearly.

He’d always made sure you had everything you needed, never hesitating to spend stolen gold on you. 

But he’d give you everything. 

After all, who better to give you a baby than a doctor who loved you more than anyone had ever been loved before?

You, waking him up in the middle of the night to check on the baby. The crew teaching them how to speak and read. Bepo would probably have to be monitored around the baby- but only because he was stronger than he knew. 

Shachi and Penguin would make proper uncles, Law thought, and he was sure that, even if he didn’t, a baby could find amusement in the Straw Hats. 

He imagined the two of you cuddled at night during your hypothetical pregnancy. His cheeks warmed at the thought.

He’d do daily checkups on you, and no better care would be available. 

He was already months ahead of himself and decided that while he finished watching you get ready, he’d let himself imagine it. 

“Okay!” you applied a final lipstick touch-up, and softly adjusted your hair in the mirror, “Will you help me with this necklace? I’ll be back around 10.”

Law stood up, stretching his back before silently making his way over to you. 

“You mentioned us having a baby?”

You rolled your eyes and took hold of the hand he extended toward you. “If you’d like.”

He rested a hand on the small of your back and pulled you into his chest, your giggles flooding his ears.

“C’mere,” he beckoned you to follow him back towards the chair he just got out of. 

He pulled you down into his lap on top of him, locking his arms around your waist.

“Law,” you whined, “I’m gonna be late.”

“Of that,” he started, “I have no doubt.”

You squirmed in his grip trying to free yourself to no avail.

“Relax, sweetheart. 

You aren’t going anywhere tonight. 

We have a baby to make.”

shanks

0.9k words

“You look delicious, baby,” Shanks lightly slapped your ass and you swatted his hands away, picking up your pace to try and keep up with the running monkey ahead of you.

Luffy had wanted to go to the lake and Makino asked if you’d take him.

You had a certain fondness for him, he reminded you of your siblings when they were his age, restless and wild, so you readily agreed. 

“Luffy!” you called, “Luffy, slow down!”

Shanks laughed and wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss.

You pushed your hands against his chest- he was so damn touchy! 

“Shanks, please not now, we’re going to lose Luffy if we don’t catch up with him,” you said, starting to run after him. 

“Alright, alright,” he relented and the two of you ran together, laughing, after him. 

He was already setting up camp when you caught up with him- those stretchy limbs set you at a disadvantage- and was asking for his swim trunks. 

You set down a towel and placed the picnic basket on top of it, throwing Luffy his trunks.

Shanks sat down and pulled you on top of his lap, grabbing a beer in the process.

“What’s that?”

 The boy stood in front of you, one hand on his hips, the other up his nose, and pointed at the drink.

“Beer! Try it!”

“Shanks.”

Luffy reached for the can and you turned him around before he could grab it.

“Why don’t we go in the lake?”

“But Shanks told me if I try to swim all my hair will fall out and I’ll forget how to read.”

You turned to your boyfriend and shot him a disapproving look as he erupted into a fit of childish laughter.

“Well, you don’t know how to read anyway, so let’s go!��

You secured a pair of floaties onto his arms and ran with him to the water, followed by Shanks after he set down some rocks onto the towel so it wouldn’t fly away.

He picked you both up and geared up to throw you into the cold, clear waves. 

Both you and Luffy tightened your grip on the man after realizing what he was intending to do and created a tangle of arms and hands.

He still made the effort, though, and ended up getting thrown in along with both of you. 

You all came up laughing and gasping for air, and Shanks held Luffy as you swam, not wanting to risk anything by leaving him on his own in the water. 

After an hour or so of swimming and splashing and throwing water at each other, Luffy started to get tired and let go of Shanks, paddling towards you as best he could.

You grabbed him and he held on to you, wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Within a few minutes, he was asleep.

Shanks, who also seemed to have calmed down, smiled at you and made his way over. He kissed your cheek.

“I’m gonna go put him down for a nap. He’s so cute,” you said. 

Shanks nodded, not able to resist slapping your ass as you got out of the water. 

You set Luffy down on the blanket, laying down next to him. He was out cold. The warm heat of the sun covered your body and lulled you to sleep right next to Luffy. 

After another hour or so of swimming in the lake and looking for pretty rocks to give you, Shanks made his way towards the both of you, unable to control his smile as he saw you and Luffy asleep bundled up together, your arms wrapped around him.

He thought, for a moment, that he might just steal Luffy away and bring him on board the Red Force. But part of him wanted a baby that was truly yours and his, Luffy was wild and untamed, and Luffy had plenty of his own adventures and stories to live on his own. 

But he could see it so clearly, with how you worried about the kid and cared for him. You were protective and he knew that if anyone threatened or endangered Luffy with you around, they’d meet a grisly end. 

It warmed his heart in a way he’d never experienced. 

He wanted, not just to be a dad, but to make you a mother. 

He sat next to you both and watched, his heart full of contentment. 

“Mmm.. Shanks,” Luffy slowly started to wake up, “‘m hungry.”

“Want a sandwich buddy?”

He sat up, looking groggy, and nodded, rubbing his eyes.

Shanks handed him a sandwich from the picnic basket and rustled his hair. 

Luffy ate, asking Shanks about his maritime adventures, laughing at his stories. 

“Did Y/n bring juice?”

“She sure did! But you should try beer!”

Luffy eagerly nodded and Shanks stifled his laughter as best he could, you were going to kill him. 

You heard coughing and laughing and slowly blinked your eyes open, your brain muddled with sleep. 

Sitting up, you stretched out your limbs and turned toward all the noise.

Luffy had a beer in hand and was chugging it, you saw several other crushed cans littering the ground.

They were both laughing and Shanks looked like he had tears in his eyes. 

Shanks heard you stirring awake and shared a split second of panicked eye contact with you before grabbing Luffy and running before you could start yelling at him. 

You took a deep breath. 

“SHANKS!”

[weirdkpopgirl]

Bare | Jaemin Imagine #17

Title: Bare

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: mildly suggestive, jaemin is shirtless, heated kisses

Word Count: 805

Author's Note: Okay, I may or may not have gotten inspired by that selfie Jaemin posted on his instagram (which killed me the first time I saw it btw). I sort of feel guilty for writing stuff like this, because I don't intend to objectify Jaemin or the members. It's supposed to be more of an appreciation thing (and I am a woman after all). Besides, I know you guys eat this stuff up too. So hope you enjoy reading ^ ^

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You stood in front of Jaemin’s apartment door, hesitating before finally pressing the doorbell. Your hand dropped back to your side almost instantly, and you found yourself absentmindedly fidgeting with the strap of your purse. It wasn’t your first time visiting, but you hadn’t seen him all week, and a strange sense of anticipation lingered in the air. Maybe it was the fact that the two of you had been dating for a while, and you still couldn’t shake how flustered he made you.

What you didn’t expect was for the door to open and reveal your boyfriend, half-naked. Just a glimpse of his broad chest and defined muscles was enough to have your cheeks heating up like an oven. In the next second, you were spinning around and covering your eyes like an embarrassed child. Clearly amused by your reaction, Jaemin nudged you gently to face him again.

“Hey, what’s wrong, baby?” Jaemin chuckled, his voice low and teasing. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a man shirtless before.”

Letting out a flustered huff, you fixed your gaze on the ground. “Well, that's because I haven’t,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible. Jaemin wouldn’t have caught it if he weren’t standing so close.

He laughed again, a deep rumble resonating from his chest before reaching out to take your hand. His fingers were warm against your cool skin as he pulled you inside his apartment.

“Come on, it’s just me. You don’t have to be shy,” he coaxed, trying to make eye contact with you.

You swallowed hard and reluctantly slipped off your shoes while Jaemin slid your jacket off. His fingers brushed against your arms. It was such a simple touch, yet it sent a shiver down your spine, even through the fabric of your sweater.

Finally daring to meet his eyes, you said, “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

“Who said that?” Jaemin smirked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re my girlfriend. I want you to look and admire me.”

He took your hands, gently guiding you backward into his living room, watching the hesitation in your expression gradually fade. Under the soft glow of the dim ceiling light, his toned chest and rippling muscles became even more defined. His skin looked impossibly smooth, and the prominent veins tracing his arms were almost too tempting not to touch.

“You’re…” you trailed off, unable to find the right words as you took it all in.

“I’m what?” His voice dropped, turning softer, more intimate. “Hot? Sexy? Tell me, (Y/n).”

Your breath caught in your throat, as he waited for your response. You couldn’t lie—  he was all those things. His body was more sculpted than you had ever thought it would be. His chest was broad, his abs firm and defined, and his arms were powerful. But it was the relaxed ease with which he carried himself that made her feel even more flustered.

“You’re just perfect,” you admitted quietly, your fingers itching to touch him.

Before you could stop yourself, your hand reached out to glide your fingertips over his collarbone. His skin was smooth as you imagined, the muscles beneath solid and taut. As you cautiously grazed your nails along his muscles, you started to feel your heart beating wildly against your chest.

Jaemin let out a low, satisfied groan. “Mmm, that feels good,” he murmured with his eyes half-closed. 

You couldn’t help but smile at the sound of his voice, at the way he practically melted beneath your touch. Feeling a little more confident now, you continued to let your fingers roam over the hard planes of his chest and shoulders.

Glancing up at him, a teasing grin formed on your lips. “You like that?”

“I like you,” he replied, causing you to blush all over again.

His strong arms circled your waist and pulled you closer. Then he raised one hand to cup the side of your face and press his lips against yours. Your hands instinctively slid up to his neck, feeling the heat of his skin as you kissed him back. His mouth was soft and warm, and the tenderness of the kiss sent your mind spinning.

When you finally pulled apart, your breath was shaky and your hands gripped his arms to steady yourself. Jaemin eyes bored into yours with such fondness that your heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“I don’t want ever want you to feel shy around me,” he whispered, his fingers now tracing your jawline. “Especially when I’m all yours.”

His words made you question if you were dreaming. But no, this was real. Jaemin was real. His sincerity was unmistakably real.

With Jaemin, his heart was completely laid bare for you, and you were more than willing to do the same.

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previous masterlist -> current masterlist

[pretty-circa006]

Unhealthy Attachments pt. 7

Jacket

◀︎previous part

Coach! Negan x Student! F! Reader

summary Negan comes by to get his jacket he left behind, but ends up leaving with you too tags (f) masturbation, a prayer gone wrong, idk if this is blasphemous or not, if it is, i'm sorry

wc 1.4k

*you are responsible for your own content consumption. if this is something you DO NOT like, simply DO NOT read or interact :)*

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚⋆ ˚｡⋆ 

Last night, after Negan left, you realized he left behind his leather jacket. Secretly, you wished he’d come back and get it so you could see him again. Although if he did, you wouldn’t know how to act, especially since you were home alone this time. You shamelessly held the garment up to your nose and inhaled the scent. It smelled like his cologne, which immediately relaxed you. The smell brought you back to all those times Negan comforted you in his arms when you were sad at school and the rare times you’ve hugged him out of happiness. You’d do anything to feel his arms around you again, whether it be hugging you, touching you…feeling you. You pulled the jacket away from your face, embarrassed that your mind went there, and even more ashamed at the wetness pooling between your legs. 

You hurried upstairs to your room and tossed the jacket on your bed before kneeling on the floor. You had to get those sinful thoughts out of your head and you knew exactly how. You closed your eyes, bowed your head, and folded your hands. 

“Dear Lord,” you prayed, “please please please get these sinful thoughts out of my head! I don’t mean to think them, they just appear whenever I think of Negan.” At the mention of his name, your mind automatically wandered to him, recalling that time he came to your rescue in the locker room and took off his sweater, revealing his toned stomach, hip bones, the hair around his belly button that trailed beneath his gym shorts. You shook the image out of your head and tried to continue your prayer. 

“I didn’t mean to sin,” your voice cracked as tears pricked your eyes, “I’m gonna do my best to stop thinking about him like that…” Your mind pictured him pulling off his sweater and t-shirt he always wore underneath all the way off, finally showing you the tattoos you got glimpses of here and there. He’d smirk at you as his licks his lower lip before ordering you to your knees and-

“Please forgive me!” You rushed out, unable to stop the thoughts. Your pussy was soaked and throbbing as you imagined your coach and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Prayer didn’t help, so maybe giving into the thoughts would. You stood up and pulled down your jeans and panties before stepping out of them and getting into your bed. Grabbing the leather jacket, you held it up to your nose and inhaled his scent once again. Your hand quickly found your stiffened clit and began rubbing circles at the perfect pace, pleasuring you further. You were so sensitive that your orgasm was approaching quickly. Your back arched and hips bucked up, rutting against your own hand as your eyes rolled in the back of your head. 

“Ah! Negan!” You moaned out quietly as you pictured it was his hand bringing you closer to your peak. You took another whiff of his jacket, inhaling the faint aromas of cigarettes and cologne, before sitting up. You grabbed one of your pillows and put the jacket on it before humping it as your orgasm washed over you. Hot tears of shame poured out of your eyes as you sobbed, ashamed of what you just did. If Negan or your parents ever found out what you did, they’d never look at you the same again. You were already sure that God was disgusted at your depravity and honestly, you were, too. You buried your face in your other pillow as you sobbed into it. 

Through your sobs you heard the doorbell ring. You ignored it, but the person on the other end kept ringing it and banging on the door. It was probably the mailman or a neighbor wanting a petition to be signed, but their knocking and the bell ringing was growing annoying, so you forced yourself out of bed, not bothering to put on your panties or jeans because your t-shirt was long enough. 

“What!” You snapped as you aggressively flung the door open. You immediately regretted your choice of clothing and attitude when you saw it was Negan standing in the doorway. Your hands flew to the bottom of your t-shirt and tugged at it, trying, but failing, to make it longer. His hazel eyes scanned you up and down, taking in your nervous stance and tear swollen eyes.

“What crawled up your ass and died?” He asked, that dimpled grin on his smug face. You used your other hand to wipe at your teary eyes. 

“What do you- why are you here?” You stuttered. 

“Left my jacket here last night and that shit was expensive as hell, so I came to get it back.” 

Right, the jacket. Your mind was so far gone that you were embarrassed you didn’t realize. 

“Oh, yeah. Right. C-come in, have a seat and I’ll go get it.” He followed you inside, glancing around the living room as if he weren't here yesterday. His eyes, however, lost focus on the plain four walls of the living room when they happened to land on your ass, or at least the little part you struggled to keep from peeking out underneath your oversized t-shirt. You held the shirt tightly between balled fists as you hurried up the stairs, both in a rush to put on some pants and get Negan the hell out of there. 

It was only then that the severity of what you did just hit you. You had just humped his jacket, used his jacket to bring yourself to an orgasm. Knots formed in your stomach upon realizing that you'll have to give him his jacket that you just masturbated with. Your heart beat faster and your hands shook as you picked his jacket up off your bed. You inspected it and relaxed a little upon realizing your actions seemingly left no trace. After quickly throwing your panties and jeans back on, you hurry back downstairs with the jacket in hand. 

"What's with the outfit change? What you had on before was cute," he teased with a shit eating grin on his face. 

Shame burned on your face and you violently tossed the jacket at him, but Negan being Negan, he caught it effortlessly. 

"Well, there's your jacket..." you said awkwardly, almost as if you were dismissing him from your home. Truthfully, though, you didn't want him to leave, even if it was hard to face him. 

The silence in the air was stiff as he sat in the living room. He was on the edge of the couch, torn between getting up to leave, and staying. When his eyes met yours, you quickly averted them, choosing to look toward the kitchen instead. Last night, you were so bold. You were all over him, being such a tease, but now you seemed more shy than before. He didn't know what changed, but it seemed to tell him all he felt he needed to know; he was making you uncomfortable, and that's the last thing he'd ever want to do. 

"Guess I'll head out now. Got shit to do," he announced as he stood from his seat on the couch. 

"Wait!" you squeaked, causing him to freeze. Oddly enough, a tinge of relief washed over him at that. 

"Do...do you want something to drink?" 

He sat back down, this time actually relaxing into the leather couch. "I'll take a beer, sweetheart." The term of endearment caused the butterflies in your tummy to go wild. You hurried into the kitchen, unable to look at Negan any longer, and rummaged through the fridge. You hoped your dad wouldn't be upset if you took one of his beers and gave it to Negan, but you were grounded indefinitely, so did it even matter? 

"Here." You handed him the cold bottle and his larger hand caressed your smaller one during the handoff, causing your breath to catch in your throat. You didn't notice the way the corner of his mouth tugged into a sly smirk at your reaction. You plopped down onto the couch beside him and began chugging the cold glass of water you got for yourself, when in reality, what you really needed was a cold shower. 

"What the hell do you even do all day now that you're on spring break?" he asked between sips of his beer. 

"Absolutely nothing. I'm grounded forever, remember?" 

"Why don't we get out of here?" 

You think for a second. Deep down you were afraid of getting into more trouble, but following your parents' rules your whole life led you to being the most hated in your school and having no friends. 

"Let's go." 

@dungeons-bat since you asked to be tagged!

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 7.5 K Warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence. (Reader discretion is advised). Prompt: We need to talk. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 24: Peace of Mind

10:00 November 24th, 1976

You waited for the girls to fall asleep and used a combination of spells to sneak out without being noticed. Lily had changed your bandages before bed and you had gladly let her, Sirius’ words reverberating in your head as she did “ Don’t be so stubborn and let us help!”

Perhaps you’d have to use those same words with Remus later on. Little after telling him you were sorry for hurting him so bad and asking him to please not hate you for the rest of his life. As you walked towards the infirmary with the disillusionment charm, the same charm you had used so often since you arrived at Hogwarts that you had pretty much mastered it. Your charm was almost as deceiving as James’ invisibility cloak, logically you knew it’d never match its greatness, but you could definitely get close.

At least enough to sneak past Peeves who was busy rearranging all the portraits on one of the halls so they were all upside down, you heard the paintings complain as he shook them about for good measure. You winced, I wouldn’t want to be any of those portraits, you thought, but continued on your way to the infirmary. As you walked you pulled the sleeves of your quidditch sweater over your hands, the temperature had dropped a little that night and you felt a stark contrast between the cold you felt then and how hot you had felt earlier in the passages with Sirius, you flushed a little when the images came back you your mind, the hunger you had felt had been so overwhelming it felt like a dream. 

You took another breath, still feeling cold. Was being sensible to temperature changes also because of the bit of lycanthropy running through your system at that point? Did poor Remus have to deal with them so often? Maybe that was why he always carried around some kind of sweater, in case it got chilly and he felt it a little more strongly than the rest. 

Once you arrived at the big infirmary doors you looked at them for a minute and waited, taking a deep breath as you stared. You had gotten word that Pomfrey usually retired to her chambers at 11:30 PM, after curfew and once she made sure all the children in the infirmary –if there were any– had fallen asleep. Her chambers were close enough so she could rush back in, in case of an emergency with the children, and she had some house elves check on the children often. 

You were thankful you had made friends with Myrtle since she had been the one to provide you with so much detailed information. Information that she had eavesdropped out a couple of years ago when Sirius, James and Peter were planning how to get into the infirmary since no one allowed them to visit Remus. 

You had also gone to talk to Numbletwist earlier that day, to try and figure out if there would be any elves in the infirmary that night. She shook her head, telling you that they were often called off when students got sick around the full moon. She said it was probably because Poppy liked to stay extra attentive of things. You had nodded and thanked her profusely for the information. Scurrying away with the excuse of needing to rest before she asked why you wanted to know. 

You heard a bit of rattling and then one of the doors opened up, she walked outside, using her wand to illuminate her path, and you sneaked in and hid behind one of the beds, even if you still had the disillusionment charm, you knew it was better safe than sorry. And Poppy definitely had better eyesight than most witches her age. She turned off the rest of the lights in the infirmary and closed the door behind her, but you stayed crouching behind the bed. 

You stood there, breathing steady as you slowly pushed yourself up to peer over the bed and check whether Remus was asleep or awake. He seemed to be waiting for Poppy to leave too, since a couple of minutes later he lifted himself up, accommodating a pillow and pulling his wand out. He used Lumus to see better as he looked through the drawer of his night table, grabbing onto a book and settling it over his lap. 

Great, Remus really had no plan to sleep soon then, you shrank into Vixen and walked over to Remus, sneaking in below his bed and onto the other side, where you could keep an eye on the door just in case. Once you manage to collect your thoughts you sprung back into human form. Remus jumped from his spot in the bed when you appeared out of nowhere. 

“Sorry to startle you,” you whispered with a bit of a frown, regret evident in your tone. 

“Little Witch?” he asked as he blinked a couple of times, trying to decipher if the way the low blue light from the stars and the waning moon shone behind your figure was all part of a dream or whether you really were there again. In truth, he had smelled you minutes earlier, but he assumed perhaps he was just picking up your scent from the chocolates you kept bringing over, or he was so drudged with potions that he was now smelling you like you really were there. And it wouldn’t be uncommon, he had dreamed of you so often lately that you standing there might really just be yet another one. But the way the light cast a halo behind you was too realistic to be part of his imagination “What are you doing here?” 

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you said simply. 

Remus stiffened and froze as if he had seen a basilisk, but then shook his head “I wasn’t… I didn’t–” 

“–It’s ok,” you cut him off “I get it, I understand why you wouldn’t want to see me, and I’m sorry, I’m sorry I was stubborn and I’m sorry I jinxed you and I’m sorry I had the Whomping Willow throw you to the side and I’m sorry Prongs had to gore you, several times because I couldn’t run fast enough and I’m sorry I–“ 

Remus reached for your hand, and your breath caught in your throat as you felt a small shock of electricity, “hey!” he said softly “I wasn’t avoiding you because I’m angry at you.” 

Remus’ hand was warm and soft, not as soft as Sirius’ but not as tough as you imagined it would be. “Then why?” 

“I– I thought you wouldn’t want to be my friend anymore,” he admitted, his hand on yours tightening “After the moon I was terrified the reason you’d come to see me was… to say goodbye. Because the friend that you thought you had was a monster, and because I couldn’t control myself as a wolf and because I’m bIoody dangerous to be around.” 

That was the second time Remus called himself a monster in front of you, you’d have none of it, “Remus,” you said, leaning in a little closer “You’re not a monster.” 

“I’m pretty sure werewolves fit in the category damn nicely,” he responded bitterly. 

“I give three fucks if they fit in the monster category, in the extra dangerous being category or in the beasts section of the library. You, Remus. My Remus, are not a monster.” 

Perhaps Remus would have realised the way you had used his name had it not been with how wrapped up in his own head he was “I could’ve killed you.” 

“You didn’t.” 

He averted your gaze “Could’ve bitten you. That’s what the wolf wanted, you know? To bite you. To turn you.” 

“But you didn’t,” you insisted. “And even if you had, we would’ve found a way to deal with it.” 

“Like how? After a bite there’s no way back, trust me, I would know.” 

“I didn’t say we’d find a way to revert it, I said we’d deal with it. Remus, I’d rather be a werewolf than lose you.” 

“You don’t know what you’re saying. I’m awful.” I’m crushing on your boyfriend, and on you for fucks sake, he thought “You’d be better off–“

You wouldn’t let him finish that phrase “–don’t bullshit me like that,” you said sternly “There isn’t a bIoody universe in which I’d be better off without you, on which any of us would. Not one!” 

“But I hurt you. Even as you ran, I chased behind you and then I dug my claws on–“ 

“–It was a scratch.”

“Stop cutting me off, damn it!” he spat, a little annoyed. “And it wasn’t a scratch, Peter told me how you shivered all night.” 

“Well then stop saying stupid shit and I will stop cutting you off!” you responded exasperated.  Then you sighed, placing one of your hands on your temple. The hand that wasn’t glued to Remus’ “freaking little Wormtail ratted me out.” you mumbled.  

“I literally kept pushing until my claws broke your soft skin, Moony could have broken your arm.” 

“I would have survived.” 

“You don’t know that!” 

“Remus. You can’t make decisions for me,” you said slowly “I knew you were a werewolf for a couple of weeks before this happened, and I never even once considered to stop being your friend.” 

“That was before…” 

“And it’s the exact same thing now,” you responded with a thin smile. “I don’t care if you’re a werewolf, I don’t care if Moony scratched me and made me hungry, and sensitive to temperatures and thirsty. I don’t care if my arm hurts or if I have to change my bandages every couple of hours and add more of Lily’s magic mixture or take painkillers. And that’s because, no matter what, you’re still Remus, and I wouldn’t want you to be any different,” you gave his hand a squeeze “I’m not gonna let you push me away because you’re terrified I might be scared of Moony.”

“But you were terrified of me! The nightmares, the boggart, the…” 

“That was before I met Moony.” 

“What?” 

“He’s beautiful Remus, you’re beautiful.” 

“What?!” he repeated, a little louder now. 

You took a deep breath “Yes, the nightmares, the beast. I was scared because a huge thing chased after me, squashing me and throwing me around countless times. But Remus, I had never gotten to see it, not really, I was too busy running away from it to pay attention. Did you know he has your eyes?” Your kind eyes, you thought. “The golden specks that are more present near the moon? I could see them, and I wasn’t scared anymore.” 

“And that was dumb, leaving my wand on the ground–“ 

“–I said I would stop interrupting if you stopped with the stupid comments.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

You wanted to argue, but it really had been a stupid thing to do, you had been so mesmerised by the wolf, that perhaps you really weren’t thinking straight. Not that it would be expected, especially after everything you had gone through previous to that. “Fine then, one part brave, three parts fool, I’m a Gryffindor after all. Regardless, I’m not scared of Moony, not anymore, not now I know It’s you.” 

“That’s stupid too,” he added, you could feel a slight change in his tone, he was a lot more relaxed now, he’s joking, you realised.

“Well you have a very stupid friend, get over it,” you joked with a smile, “Are you going to stop avoiding me now?” 

Remus sighed “How could I abandon my potions partner?” he asked, a small smirk drawing itself on his lips. 

You chuckled, your hands, the ones that were still intertwined with each other, dangled as your shoulders shook, “That’s the spirit,” you said, your sight flickering towards his hand, and the way it held yours. You brushed your thumb gently over a particularly thick scar on the back of his hand. Remus shivered, but you were so cold you assumed it was for the same reason that you would, werewolves were clearly more sensible to temperature.

“Your hand is very cold,” he said as he tightened his grip. 

“It’s freezing here,” you responded, “you feel it too, don’t you? You shivered.”

He cleared his throat “Yeah,” he lied “kinda cold.” 

“Your hand’s nice and warm tho,” you acknowledged. 

“I had it under the covers,” he lied again. He wondered why you hadn’t separated your hands, not because he wanted you to do it, but rather because he was dreading the moment you did, “how’s the arm?” He asked, nodding towards it. 

You shrugged, “It’s healing… your ribs? I broke them didn’t I?”

“It was the Whomping Willow.”

“Yeah, the tree, and my carefully executed plan.”

That had him shaking his head in amusement “How did you know it would work?” 

You swallowed, you could lie and say you used maths or highly advanced magic to calculate things to the tea, but enough secrets had been held between you and Remus already “I didn’t,” you admitted “The idea just came to me and I used my instinct to know when to jump.” 

“You’re insane,” he said with a shake of his head, he was half pissed, half amused you had managed to pull it off “and brilliant.”

You frowned, a small smile playing on your lips “I’ll take that as a compliment,” there was a silence and you leaned in to sit on the edge of the bed, careful not to hurt the boy as you sat, your head still turned to him “Tom said you’d be out tomorrow.” 

“Is that how you found out I was avoiding you?” he asked with an arched eyebrow. 

You nodded “Yeah, that and Poppy looking at me so pitifully, even Sirius seemed like he was suspicious after a while.” 

He winced “Sorry ‘bout that… But yeah, she said I could leave tomorrow, she kept me here tonight just in case.” 

“Well, thank Godric she did, this would’ve been an awkward conversation to have in front of the boys,” you teased “especially when I didn’t even let you speak.” 

“I was being twat.” 

“Yeah, you were,” you agreed, a small teasing smile on your face. He scooted slightly to the side to give you more space to sit, then pulled your hand so you moved in a little bit more. 

There was silence, a rather comfortable one, but Remus broke it, he was now rubbing circles on your hand “You were here when Pomfrey gave me the Skellegro,” he said, and then turned his gaze to you “Weren’t you?” 

You nodded “Sirius and Lily brought me over for dittany and silver dust, the scratch wasn’t healing until Lily made some a paste.” 

“So you were bleeding all night…” he said, guilt filling his expression. 

You sighed “It’s fine, I heal fast.” 

Remus looked to the side, barely spotting the bruise on your neck “Is that from when they…?” he asked, pointing towards it. 

You opened your eyes wider and pulled the collar of the sweater you were wearing up, blushing at the memory of Sirius kissing your neck as he had you flushed against the stone wall of one of the passageways “Um… I… no it’s…” 

Remus understood a sour expression playing on his face that he masked with disgust “Ugh you and Pads are gross.” 

You hit him on the arm playfully “As if you’d never done it,” you chastised “Oh.. by the way, what’s with you and Alice?” you asked with an arched eyebrow and a suggestive smile. 

Remus felt a pang in his chest, the cause was in the way you’d asked, so casually and playfully. You were clearly teasing him, and also clearly not into him. And then he cursed himself for feeling jealous, of course, she’s not into me, she’s into Sirius, her boyfriend. “We… I mean…” how the fuck do I tell her we’re only having fun without sounding like an ass? It's not like I can tell her I’m using Alice as a distraction, that’d be way worse. 

“You’re not in love with her, are you?” you asked, with a rather apprehensive tone. 

“Does that make me an asshole?” 

You shook your head “I’m sure she’s not in love either,” you said with a sigh “Todd told me she likes to have fun and then… Well, I don’t think that makes her a bad person per se, as long as she’s honest about it.” 

“She is,” he reassured, “she’s fun too.” Remus wasn’t sure fun was a very accurate description, not even close to distracting, but it seemed like the right thing to say. 

“That’s good. You deserve to have fun,” you said with a smile “Though I’m sure you’d easily find someone for a deeper connection if you were looking for it.” 

Remus scoffed, shaking his head “Yeah sure, until they find out I’m a monst–“ 

“–We’re not going to keep calling you that, Remus,” you interrupted. “And I think they would. Just think about it, all of the people who know are still there for you, no matter what. We’re here, and if someone really loved you, they would be there for you too. And if they weren’t then they don’t deserve you.” He gave you a look of disbelief “Honest, if I were dating you, and then I found out. Even if I had gone through the same thing I went through that night, I’d still date you.”

Remus wasn’t sure whether to be happy or cry at your statement “But you’re dating Sirius.” It was almost bitter the way he said it, but it slipped past you.

“Well duh, but hypothetically, I’d love you either way. And I mean, how many people can say they’re dating a sexy werewolf, that’s gotta give you some points…”

Remus grabbed one of the pillows from his side and threw it at your face, he didn’t wanna talk about depressing shit anymore. 

“Oi! What was that for?!” 

“You were getting too sappy with me,” he said with a diverted smile.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a mirroring smile on your lips “Oh you’re a twat,” you said as you hit him on the side lightly, he groaned and you winced, brows instantly furrowing in concern “Sorry…” He nodded, but a small smile showed on his soft lips, like he was holding back a laugh. You quickly realised he had faked it and hit him again in return “That’s a nasty trick, you shouldn’t take advantage of your hurt state.” 

“The one that you induced?” he said as his grin widened, teasing you again. You gasped in shock, and laughed afterwards, hitting him again a couple more times. 

“Oi, oi, that’s enough…” he said as he grabbed onto your hand, laughing along with you. 

He had been soft when he grabbed you, but he was so strong even if you had wanted to, you wouldn’t have been able to move your arm, but instead of dwelling on the boy’s strength, you just laughed merrily, leaning in so far down that your hair brushed over his chest. He could smell it, and it was as delightful as ever, perhaps a bit more now that he knew you wouldn’t avoid him just because of his condition. He took a deep breath as you laughed, almost feeling guilty for enjoying the moment so much. 

You cannot love her, it is sin, said a voice in his head as he listened to your giggles, but why does it feel like heaven then? 

“Can you turn back into the fox?” he asked, despite himself. Perhaps he was already so drunk on you, and your laughs that he wasn’t thinking straight. You turned your gaze to him, as you let your laughs die out. An arched eyebrow looking at him questioning “You got to see Moony, but I only got to see the fox through his eyes. I wanna see her with my eyes,” he reasoned, although he wasn’t sure if he was actually reasoning. 

“Seems fair enough,” you said with a shrug “It’s Vixen, by the way.” 

“Who’s Vixen?” 

“Me,” you said as if it was obvious “I mean… the fox, she is. Wormmy and Prongs chose it, Sirius said it fit.” 

Remus hummed in response “It certainly does,” he said as he looked at you, the blue moonlight was still illuminating your features, and you certainly looked as charming as ever, tantalising, beguiling even. And the small cut on your lip? The one that he had noticed since the day at the Shrieking Shack and hadn’t disappeared from your face yet, along with the hickey Sirius had left on your neck, made you look as fierce as ever. 

Remus wondered for a second what it would feel like to leave a matching one on the other side of your neck, what would it feel like for Sirius to leave one on his? He knew he was yearning for something he couldn’t have, alas, he had yearned for a normal life so often, he was already used to the feeling. But his fantasies about being normal were never as sweet as his fantasies of you, of Sirius. Of either of your lips attached to his neck or his lips attached to yours, to Sirius’s silky pale skin or to your soft velvety neck. To your collarbone, to the indents that made it almost impossible for him to look back at your face. He remembered you in your Halloween costume again, he remembered Sirius’s devilish smile and matching outfit, and he had to adjust the bedsheets underneath, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on earth. 

It’s Moony’s fault, It’s Moony’s fault! Did she notice? Will she buy it if I tell her that? 

“Is it really a good idea for me to turn into Vixen here? Isn’t it like… dangerous for your wounds and stuff?” 

Remus frowned, buffing diverted “You’ve got rabies or something?”

You gasped again “Of course I don’t! How would you feel if I asked you the same thing?!” He shrugged in response and you considered hitting him again. “Fine then,” you said “but I will bite if you try anything weird.” 

“Define anything weird…” he teased. 

“I’d rather bite instead,” you retorted “It’ll be my payback for the scratch,” you said with a diverted smile before shrinking into Vixen. You were still on the bed as Remus looked at you. You were small, smaller than normal, and certainly smaller than Padfoot, a good deal less than half as tall as him.

“So you are a little witch in the end,” he teased as he looked at you, you bared your teeth at him for a second, and turned your head, “Aww… don’t be like that!” You shook your head and walked a little closer to him, feeling the soft bed give way under your paws.

You stared at him curiously, and you understood why he wanted to see you as a fox so much, it was completely different, the way in which you perceived someone being animal or human. Remus, for example, seemed a lot bigger when you looked at him from the eyes of Vixen. You could also feel the heat radiating from him, which is why you had almost instinctively walked closer. And just like you had been lured by Moony when you left the wand on the floor, Vixen seemed to somehow be lured by Remus. 

You wondered if you were to lose your mind, and be more fox than human, would you still feel just as beguiled by the boy?

Remus was still looking at you when he extended his hand as if he wanted to pet you, but he pulled it back seconds later when he remembered Peter had once straight up bit him when he tried to do it for the first time, and you had threatened to bite. But what you did instead was surprising, since you walked closer and placed your head underneath his extended palm, nuzzling into it like a cat would. 

When Remus started brushing his fingers over your head you leaned in closer, allowing him to scratch just behind your ears, which had you relax so much you almost allowed yourself to lay on the bed. When he pulled away his hand you nuzzled his arm with your nose, so he would come back “Needy, aren’t we?” he teased. You didn’t even care to respond. His hands were so big they almost covered your entire head, and so warm too, it was like having a heated blanket that also gave massages. 

Maybe it was the canine side of you, but he started scratching a particular spot that had you wagging your tail like a small puppy. Remus laughed when he noticed “You still cold?” he asked when he felt your cold paw brush against his forearm. You nuzzled closer to his hand in response. “Wanna come here?” he asked, patting his chest. You tilted your head, looking at his chest rise and fall, still feeling the heat coming from it.  

Maybe it’s weird, shouldn’t have aske– Remus didn’t get to finish his thoughts, you had already climbed all the way up to his chest, fast and careful, trying to avoid the side where you knew the Whomping Willow had hit him. He smiled as you nuzzled your entire body against him, allowing your tail to almost wrap itself around you, bringing a little more warmth into the equation. You then bumped your head against his chest softly. 

“What’s that little witch? You want me to pet you some more?” he asked, but he wasn’t teasing this time, the cocky undertone you’d heard earlier completely gone this time around. You allowed your head to rest and closed your eyes as you moved up and down along his every breath. 

Eventually, he brought his hand over you again, this time resting it over your back, and moving it softly along your fur, with soft strokes from your head to your mid back, your only reaction was to close your eyes and enjoy the way his fingers intertwined with your fur. You wondered if cuddling with Sirius as a fox would feel just as nice and decided you’d have to ask him to try, even if you had no idea how you’d put that into words. 

Either way, Remus was awfully good at cuddling: big, warm, heavy hands, and a total people pleaser. You realised when he figured out the spot that made your tail waggle and focus his scratches there from then on. You had been so comfortable with the boy, that you didn’t even notice the moment you fell asleep. He did see you; and was extra quiet for a while, the only sound being the one of his breaths and your light snoring, or what sounded like snoring at least, Remus wasn’t sure if foxes actually had the ability to snore. 

He had been admiring the way you slept, so peaceful, and so beautiful too, he was sure all the foxes would fall for you in the forest if they met you, not that he would allow any of them to lay a paw on you. Which he then realised might have been one of the stupidest things to ever cross his mind. But at least he wasn’t thinking of you and Sirius. Except when he was and he forced himself to look back at Vixen, letting his anxiety melt away as he continued to brush his hands over your soft red fur. 

And as his anxiety left, so did most of his negative thoughts, and he was engulfed in this ever so peaceful stance that he was sure to cuddle Vixen for the rest of his life had he the chance. After some time, he too started feeling sleepy, his eyelids heavy and his stroking slower, lazier, he too fell asleep. And you must have stayed like that, sleeping on top of him, your slight weight comforting him the same way a weighted blanket would, for at least a couple of hours. Since next thing you knew, there was a high-pitched scream and you felt yourself being pushed off Remus with the force of a spell. 

You fell on your leg and let out a cry of pain, you were rather confused when you noticed the woman that had used a spell against you had been no other than Madam Pomfrey. 

“Wait no! Poppy, stop!” you heard Remus say, panicked and sitting up on the bed to get the woman’s attention. You shook your head and attempted to stand, only for your leg to give in again. You huffed, and while wincing, forced yourself up. You saw Pomfrey approaching you, her wand still in her hands as she pointed it at you. 

You took a couple of steps back, feeling a sharp pain whenever you moved your front leg. “She’s my pet!” Remus said, “Don’t hurt her.”

Pomfrey seemed distracted by the boy’s words and you took that as a chance to scurry under one of the beds and then all the way to the door. 

Every step was agonising, but the adrenaline kept you going all the way to the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere. You looked to the sides of the hall to make sure there was no one around before springing back into your human form and pushing the door open, getting in and closing it behind you. You could feel the stickiness of your arm. 

Evans is going to kill me, you thought as you leaned in on the door, allowing yourself to rest for a second before turning to look at the place you had ended up in. And when you did you were surprised, since it looked just like the infirmary, you frowned, and opened the door to see if you had run to the same place that you’d left, but it was positively a different hallway. Different paintings, different statues, different doors, it’s definitely not the same place, you thought.

You went back in after a second and looked around again, now clutching your wounded arm, and tilted your head as you stared. Upon closer inspection, it was most definitely not the same infirmary either. In fact, near the back, there was a rather large mirror and a supply closet near it, the infirmary had large windows instead. You walked near the middle of the room and looked around you, there weren’t many beds either, and the place seemed to be filled with things that could be useful. From warm blankets to a sink and clean rags close to it. 

You blinked a couple of times, taking it all in, the usefulness, the door that seemed to have shown up out of nowhere, you let out a short breath, realisation hitting you  “The Room of Requirements,” you whispered. 

Then started nodding, hyping yourself up for what you’d have to do next. You turned around to see if there was a clock somewhere, which there indeed was, a huge grandfather clock near the door, it was 4 am, and you had just enough time to clean things up and go back to your room, change and get back to class.  

You took your shirt off and winced when you realised the bIoody bandage, if you kept acting so recklessly, you weren’t sure it was ever actually going to heal. You walked towards the sink, and wet one of the rags before passing it over the broken flesh. You winced as the warm piece of cloth passed over the open part of the wound. You stared at it for a second once it was clean, even after all the misadventures, it certainly looked better than it had done the previous night. But it hurt just as much as it had, the painkillers might have been wearing thin by then. 

You walked towards the supply closet, your vision a little blurry due to the sharp pain. Luckily the first thing you spotted was some painkillers,  you instantly drank a bit of it and placed the rest in your pocket. You kept rummaging through it and found dried dittany leaves and some silver dust. So you grabbed a mortar, and some beeswax and mugwort, which were the few things you remembered Lily had used to make her green paste, and recreated it to the best of your abilities. With your dominant arm incapacitated -and drowning in pain since the painkillers hadn’t done their thing- you clenched the mortar handle in your other hand and started to mix.

Once the paste was ready, you washed your hand and with trembling fingers, you gingerly spread the paste across the open wound. A couple of tears started streaming down your cheeks as you did. You must have missed something when you made the paste since instead of making you feel instant relief, it stung like hell for what felt like an eternity before gradually numbing the pain.

Once you had gone through most of the scratch you used the back of your hand to wipe your tears and sniffed as you took some more in your finger, hesitating for a second before biting your lip and finally placing the paste on the parts that you hadn’t covered yet.

When you finished with it, you felt utterly drained. The pain was still there, your arm had even started to throb. You let your head fall back and considered just throwing yourself on the floor, the temptation to just rest almost agonising, but you knew you still had to wrap a bandage around your wounded arm. You were fumbling with the ends of the bandage roll when you remembered Sirius’ words “Don’t be stubborn and let us help!” 

You swallowed, he probably would have run off to help you had you asked, but Sirius must have been just as tired as you were, and even if he hadn’t been hurt physically, you were sure the events of the night had taken a toll on his mind, heck they clearly had done it on yours, so, despite his command, you decided to deal with it in your own. You continued trying for a couple of minutes, and after what felt like an eternity –and in a fit of desperation– you hurled it against the mirror. It bumped down and rolled off, one of the ends staying behind as the rest of the roll continued unravelling. 

You sighed and went to grab another one from the supply closet and started trying once again. This time around you actually managed to open it after a couple of minutes and brought your arm up. You held the end against your arm with your chin and you started wrapping. Eventually, you switched your manual labour for your wand and used a simple spell to levitate the roll of bandages around your arm, making sure that it was just tight enough to seal the wound but not so tight as to cause additional pain, mirroring the way both Sirius and Lily had done it earlier. 

When you were done, you turned to the watch again, you’d hoped you had enough time to lay in one of the beds of the infirmary but when you realised you had spent over an hour there you cast a quick disillusionment charm and sneaked back to the common room. You did consider staying in the Room of Requirements and not going back, but your friends would probably worry if they didn’t see you at all in the morning, Lily would be panicked and the boys, especially Sirius, would cause a mini-scandal. You could almost hear Sirius ask something like “How the hell did you lose my girlfriend Evans?” Which is why, in the end, you decided against it. 

You picked up the mess with a wave of your wand and put your shirt and sweater back on, giving a once over to the room before leaving and walking through the halls and passageways trying to make as little sound as possible. Once you arrive at your common room you let yourself fall into one of the single couches by the fire. Not bothering to counter your disillusionment charm, as you used your wand to kindle the fire. You sank deeper on the couch and sighed, closing your eyes for a snooze when you heard footsteps. 

You turned to the side and spotted Sirius and James walking down, you waved at them, and when they didn’t respond, you remembered you were still kind of invisible. You were about to cancel the spell off when you saw Sirius was already leaning to sit down, on the exact same spot you were. You moved your wounded arm to the side and allowed the boy to sit “Hey babe,” you whispered as you wrapped your arm around his waist, Sirius pretty much jumped off and turned around looking mortified.

You just laughed at his reaction, “Vixen?!” you heard James ask as he squinted his eyes in your direction, you just kept laughing as you finally waved your wand over yourself again, allowing the spell to vanish, the painkiller potion was finally doing its thing and you already felt a lot better.

“Hey Prongs!” you said with a smile. 

“What the hell was that Stashine, are you trying to give me a heart attack?” 

“Don’t you get one of those whenever you look into my eyes?” you asked with a playful pout, James laughed again, and your boyfriend just looked at you surprised. 

“How did you know it would be Sirius the one to sit there?” James asked. 

“I was already here, I just took the chance,” you said, scooting to the side to allow Sirius to sit by your side, even in the small space. He didn’t think about it twice and sat beside you, pulling you by the waist half over one of his legs so you’d be more comfortable.

“Absolutely brilliant!” James complimented, Sirius threw him a look “And you disillusionment charm too, I’d never seen one so good.”

“Thanks!” you said with a smile “I’ve been using it a lot recently.” 

“You do know you can just take the Invisibility Cloak, right?” 

You nodded, not if I have to tell you what I need it for, you thought. “That’s very nice of you Jammie,” you said with a smile.

“How’s the arm?” Sirius asked. 

You looked at him for a second, a tight smile on your lips before you nodded “Great.”

Sirius frowned, not quite buying it, but didn’t press further. “Why were you out here, luv?” James asked “I’d assume Lily would rather be checking on you instead of having you here by yourself.” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” you said pointing to your eyebags “And the fire seemed tempting… and also I went to check on Remus who was avoiding me.” 

“You noticed?” Sirius asked about at the same time James said something like “You went to see Remus by yourself?!”

“Of course I noticed! I went to check on him like 5 times and he was asleep all of them. Tom comes up and says he had a chat with him seconds after we went to visit. It was suspicious enough. And then there was Pomfrey’s pitiful look whenever I showed up…” 

“He sometimes does that… I assumed he was doing it when we went before lunch. Did you get him to talk to you?” Sirius asked.

You nodded “Yeah, we’ve sorted things out, had to call him out on how dumb he was being though.” 

Sirius laughed at the casual way you said it, and pulled you a bit closer to him “That’s my girl!”

You were distracted for a good second, remembering the way Remus had pulled Vixen closer and how similar it had been to the way Sirius had done it, you wondered if it was a Brit thing, to be so touchy –which you already knew Sirius was- or if instead it was something very particular of the boys. 

“It’s kinda late for flying, isn’t it?” James asked as he looked at the clock, clearly the messy sleepless nights had also taken a toll on him. 

“Who are you and what have you done to James Potter?” You teased. 

“Don’t mess with him, Kit, he might change his mind.”

“Kit?” You asked, turning to him with a raised eyebrow. 

He shrugged “If you can call me Puppy I can call you Kit,” he said simply, to which you laughed, it wasn’t that you didn’t like it, rather you were a little surprised. And really, the more you thought about it, it was rather endearing. 

“Does that mean we’re not flying then?” you asked, turning back to James, “even if the next game is on Sunday?” 

James groaned, placing a pillow over his head to muffle the sounds. “Now that’s straight-up torture,” Sirius said with a teasing smile as he pointed at James. 

“Either way, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to play, we might have to move the–“ 

“–Don’t even joke about it Potter!” you said in a serious tone. 

James winced, you didn’t call him James, not even Prongs, you were not happy about his suggestion, but he was the captain, and he had to look out for his team, he had to look out for you, “You’re hurt.” 

“It was barely a scratch!” 

“You keep saying that, but I see the way you clutch onto your arm when the painkillers wear off–“ 

“I’ll be like new by Sunday!” you argued again “I heal fast.” 

“Sunday is in three days!” 

“Back me up on this?” you asked, turning to Sirius, who had a small frown on his face. 

He couldn’t find a way to say what he wanted to say without upsetting you “Darling, maybe Prongs is right…” 

You turned to him exasperated “Don’t block me like this James! We’re playing Slytherin, I want to show those assholed that they didn’t–” You cut yourself off, not being able to finish the sentence either. 

James’ face seemed to soften at your words, Sirius and Remus had somewhat told them what happened that night, or at least what they knew, and what they assumed. You hadn’t talked to them much about it, let alone go into detail, but either way, he understood. He got why you were so desperate to prove that you could still fight -or fly in this case–, you needed to show them that no matter what they did, they wouldn’t bring you down, “We’ll think about it,” he conceded. You were still looking at him with a frown, “Listen if your arm really is better off by then, then you’ll play.” 

“You promise you’ll let me?” 

Sirius was looking at James reproachfully, as if he wasn’t happy with his answer, but didn’t say a thing. He could try to convince you of dropping it later, although he was pretty sure you wouldn’t change your mind about it, not unless you were bedridden or something. 

“I promise we’ll think about it.” You nodded, that was probably as good as it would get. Now all you had to do was play the part of someone who was not affected at all by the hit and you’d be able to play on Sunday. 

“Aren’t you hungry luv?” Sirius asked. 

And strangely enough, you weren’t that hungry, in fact, you hadn’t been hungry since you went to visit Remus, which made you assume it was a Lycanthropy thing. Regardless, a warm cup of tea, along with some toast did sound incredibly good, so you nodded, motioning to stand up when you saw Remus walk in, he looked visibly relieved when he spotted you, even as you were almost sitting on Sirius’ lap. 

“Good to see you’re all right, after the fall I thought you might have–“ 

“–What fall?” Sirius asked, turning to you. 

“That?! It was nothing…” you said, “I had turned into Vixen and Pomfrey saw me, and was probably horrified since I was close to Rem, and then she pushed me off with a spell. I mean it hurt a little but it was nothing…” 

“You were thrown in the air and fell to the ground, and it was nothing?” Sirius asked as he toyed with the hem of your sweater’s sleeve, to see if he could lift it enough to check on your wound.

“Yes, Pomfrey wasn’t trying to hurt me, and Remus stopped her from following.” 

Remus was sure he’d seen you break the fall with the same arm that was hurt but decided not to press any further, since you clearly didn’t want to go too much into detail. He plopped down next to James on the sofa and turned to Sirius “How’s the plan going?” He asked the long-haired boy. 

“What plan?” you asked with furrowing your eyebrows just a little bit. 

“The revenge plan.” 

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Rem is finally back yay! How are we feeling? Personally, I love cuddles, wish I could actually transport into this universe to get some od Moony's warm cuddles. Thoughts?

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[intothedysphoria]

He practically lived in the laundromat.

Steve saw him frequently. Not in like a creepy way. In a sad and lonely way. Because that’s what Steve was. Sad and lonely.

He wore denim and leather and drove an electric blue Camaro and an ornate cross hung from his neck and he was very obviously gay.

The surname was something Steve couldn’t pronounce. Irish. Not anglicised. It had used to be Hargrove apparently. It wasn’t anymore.

The first name was so ordinary though. William. Billy.

Steve sometimes said hello to him, in between watching Rick and Morty on Netflix. Billy would say hello back. Fairly uninterested but polite.

The conversations were usually limited to complaining about professors or the industrial washing machines.

“Alright man?”

“Yeah I’m ok. That new history assignment is a bitch to complete.”

“Damn. See you in next weeks seminar.”

If Steve had half the balls he had in high school, he’d ask him out for a drink. Beer, coffee, hot chocolate. Anything really.

Instead, he gave an awkward thumbs up as that perfectly tanned back walked into the distance.

The next time they met, Billy’s bag split.

There was a significant hole, books struggling to escape as Billy stood, looking crestfallen. And Steve had an idea.

“I could fix it for you. If you want.”

The look on Billy’s face said that Steve could have personally hung each and every star.

The benefits of being a drag queen.

It wasn’t a hard fix at the end of the day but it really was a charming satchel. Pins of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Pokémon sat proudly at the top. He really was a fucking nerd.

Billy hugged him when Steve handed the bag back. It felt soft and warm and genuinely affectionate. None of those things were about to be complained about.

He turned up at Steve’s next drag show. A gay bar Billy never frequented. He was usually at the one which was full to the brim of guys who really liked leather. Not Steve’s one with its terrible 80s night and constant inter club bickering.

Billy told him he liked the show afterwards. The one where Steve had done a cheer routine to Teenagers by My Chemical Romance. He’d make sure to visit again with what Steve thought might have been a wink.

Maybe. He wasn’t 100 sure. Maybe he just had a severe squint.

Billy would now come to sit right next to Steve in seminars. Notebook filled with calligraphy and tiny doodles. Steve’s hopelessly dyslexic handwriting felt exceedingly ugly in comparison. Billy just told him it was unique.

That was one way of putting it. Billy was very kind. And probably went after guys like McKinney or Munson or Tommy. Not Steve.

It didn’t stop Steve from giggling like a schoolgirl whenever Billy gave him a compliment. Which hopefully Billy had chosen to ignore.

Robin set him up on a date after Steve came over with an entire pint of strawberry milkshake and cried on her sofa. Given the amount of time Steve had been on testosterone, he could not just blame it on his period. His period had ended for good like last year.

Jonathan was funny. He was a bit of a nerd, loved old horror films and in any other circumstance, Steve would be enamoured. This was not any other circumstance.

Not when Steve was thinking about Billy being on a date with any other guy. Someone who wasn’t him.

Steve ditched the date halfway through then spent the rest of the evening thinking about how he was a horrible person. Surprisingly, that didn’t help his situation.

Billy asked if he was ok. Of course Steve was ok. Why wouldn’t he be. Nothing wrong here.

Carol asked if he wanted a live laugh love mug and a pink sweater. Steve took the hint.

Telling Billy in theory was easy. Telling Billy in practice was fairly difficult.

He told Billy in the laundromat. Painfully unromantic. Just asked him out for drinks. But Billy was grinning like a six year old.

“Sure. It’s a date.”

Was Billy bouncing on his feet?

When Billy immediately started signing off their texts with hearts and kisses, Steve thought it was.

It is pretty much my two year fandom anniversary give or take a few days and this fic is for @shieldofiron @dragonflylady77 @thatgirlwithasquid @oopsiedaisiesbaby @robthegoodfellow @bigdumbbambieyes @thissortofsorcery and @harringroveobsessed for putting up with the incessant messaging and asks and random brainworms I get at like 5AM

[rosellacwrites]

Sweatpants Season

summary: Steven‘s been thirst trapping you. It wasn’t intentional.

pairings: Steven Grant x GN!Reader, implied Marc Spector x GN!Reader, implied Jake Lockley x GN!Reader

rating: T, maybe. Not smut itself but, like, gateway sexiness? I’d read it at work but I’m my own boss, so. Maybe don’t do that.

warnings: domestic fluff, established relationship, discussion of sexual attractiveness.

word count: just under 1K

author’s note: Written for the Moon Knight Spring Bingo @moonknight-events — this is entry #3 for the Sweater Weather square! (Thanks to the mods @juneknight and @spacecowboyhotch for kindly allowing me to stretch this prompt to sweatpants.)

dividers by @firefly-graphics

“A little healthy objectification is good for a relationship,” Steven pronounces, waving toward you from his side of the sofa. Wine makes him philosophical, and you’re both a few glasses into the evening by now. “Your partner ought to know how attractive you find them.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re only saying that because I caught you perving on me when I took my sweater off and my undershirt got stuck with it.”

“I don’t deny it,” he says with the cheekiest grin. “But you’re even worse, love. I saw the look you gave me the other night when I put my reading glasses on, and there was nothing family-friendly about it.”

“Can’t help it,” you mutter. “It’s unfair how hot you are in those.”

“I think you might be a bit biased there.” He laughs. “I don’t exactly wear them just to turn you on.”

“Sometimes, I think you do.” You stretch your legs out, swinging them over his lap and getting comfortable. “You’re a menace, ever since I told you I liked them. And these pants, my God — you really are just trying to drive me insane, aren’t you?”

“Sorry?” Steven’s brow furrows and he tilts his head at you.

“Really?” You gesture at his legs where they rest under yours, smirking. “You really have no idea what I’m talking about?”

He shakes his head, bewildered. “I really don’t.”

“Steven, you’re walking around here in the functional equivalent of lingerie. Grey sweatpants are hot.”

“Are you having me on?” His face has gone from confused to suspicious; in fairness, if you had been, it wouldn’t have been the first time. Steven is gullible in that way peculiar to the brilliant; anything can seem perfectly plausible, when your mind is already filled with an abundance of equally unlikely facts.

“I am not. This is a legitimate thing!” You’re trying not to laugh. You really are — you don’t want to make the poor man feel bad about himself, but it’s impossible not to let a few giggles slip out. “I bet you Marc or Jake knows about it.”

Steven frowns. “Shut it, you lot,” he says to the reflection in the TV, his face a dull red. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Absolutely no one thinks sweatpants are sexy.”

“Grey sweatpants,” you add helpfully. “The other ones aren’t nearly as good.”

Steven looks at you: your dancing eyes and your lips pressed together to contain your laughter and your shaking shoulders. “All three of you are taking the piss,” he grumbles. “What’ve I done to deserve this? Nothing, is what.”

You fish your phone out of your pocket and hand it to Steven, leaning close. “Google it. Grey sweatpants meme. I swear we’re not making this up.”

“Grey… sweatpants… meme,” he mutters under his breath as he pokes at the screen, and you crane your neck to see what he’s finding.

You watch a parade of emotions cross his face while he scrolls. “Ooh, click on that one!” you chirp, pointing at the link entitled Grey Sweat Pant Memes for Ladies who Buy Their Man Loungewear Every Fall.

He does, and his eyebrows are doing extremely athletic things as he’s confronted with the indisputable truth; you aren’t, in fact, making this up. He’s talking to himself, but you can’t hear most of it, and not for the first time you wish you could hear Marc and Jake’s side of the conversation too. “What is this world,” he laments clearly, once, and you’re gone.

“Oh God — I’m so sorry — it’s just — “ you wheeze, leaning against him. “How did you not know — the year of Our Lord 2023 and I know you can use the Internet — “

“All this time, I’ve been making you all hot and bothered and I didn’t know a thing about it.” He chuckles and shakes his head ruefully; the man is clearly having a minor existential crisis. “I really didn’t, yeah? I just thought… I need a pair, they’re on sale… I nearly got the blue pair, they were the same price — it’s just what I had my hand on…” His voice trails off but you can feel him twitch occasionally, aftershocks of his own laughter. “They were really soft!” he adds, and his tone is so piteous that the laughter explodes out of you again.

“Steven. My love.” You wipe your streaming eyes and grin at him. “You don’t have to justify the sweatpants.”

He wraps an arm around you and squeezes, resting his hot cheek against your head. “Every time I wear them now you’re going to look at me like that, and I’m going to know what you’re thinking, and…”

“Exactly the same things I was looking and thinking before,” you finish, still giggling. “The only difference is, now you know about it.”

Steven shakes his head. “A few things are beginning to make more sense now,” he admits, still flustered, and he starts to chuckle again. “I’ve caught you looking, a few times, but I had no idea what you were up to… suppose I should be grateful you find me so irresistible.”

“I really do,” you sigh, and lean in to kiss him. “Enough that I’m willing to overlook your abysmal knowledge of pop culture.”

“I don’t tease you when you get your pharaohs mixed up, do I?” he protests, wounded. “We’ve all got our things.”

“More of them in heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” you quote. “And if they’d had sweatpants back then, Shakespeare would have made dick jokes about them. I guarantee you.”

“You’re probably right,” he sighs. “Well, I won’t be quite so quick to doubt you, next time. You could tell me you like it when I forget to shave for a few days and I’ll just say ‘of course, darling.’”

You don’t say anything. The look on your face does it for you.

“Oh, come on. Really?”

Dedicated to my husband, with whom I had a very similar conversation recently. Poor man.

In case you’re wondering, this is the meme that made him say “what is this world?!”

[raibebe]

Genre: fluff, angst and a sprinkle of smut Words: 5.392 Prompt: trans Jeno x fem. reader

Warnings: afab Jeno, anxiety, mentions of body dysphoria, mentions of surgery, scars, oral (reader receiving), Jeno really is just a horny service top

A/N: Don't ask how this came to be. I had a prophetic vision. As for visuals, I imagined this Jeno to look like NCT Nation Jeno, specifically The BAT Jeno. Yeah. He's hot. Also, this wasn't supposed to have smut in it but... This Jeno is horny as fuck.

Special thanks go out to @wooahaeproductions for being the best beta reader out there, to @starlitmark for emotional support and to @honeyhuii for giving me his stamp of approval to post this!

“Hey…” “Hey.” You immediately sat up, turning all of your attention towards your boyfriend who was standing and stalling inside the doorframe. “Hi,” Jeno repeated himself, self-consciously squeezing his biceps. “You said that already,” you giggled, scooting back to sit up against his headboard and patting the space next to you. “I know…” He mumbled before closing the door behind him and slowly walking over to sit next to you, crossing his legs. “Are you going to tell me why you freaked out on me earlier?” You carefully asked, reaching for Jeno’s hand to intertwine your fingers. 

Earlier that night, you had arrived at Jeno’s apartment with a bag slung over your shoulder and butterflies nestled in your stomach. He had opened the door with a big smile on his lips and had pulled you in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “You look beautiful,” he whispered and took your bag to put it down in his living room for now. “You don’t look too bad yourself,” you smiled back and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, forever entranced by how small it was. “You’re whipped,” he grinned and turned around in your grip so he could kiss you again. “We’re going to miss our reservation if you keep doing this,” you sighed against his lips, fighting the urge to bury your hands in his hair and to mess up the way he had meticulously styled it out of his face to show off the cut in his eyebrow. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing to happen.” Jeno just smiled, kissing you chastely one last time before letting you go so he could retrieve his leather jacket to throw on which made his shoulders look even more bulky than they already were. “They need to close the gyms.” “What?” He laughed. “You’re getting too big, you’ll start knocking into door frames.” “Stop being silly,” Jeno shook his head, intertwining your hands to pull you out of the apartment. 

Dinner had gone smoothly and the food had been delicious. Jeno had even gone as far as ordering a bottle of wine for the two of you to share which had enabled the both of you to be bolder with your public flirting. Maybe you had even gone as far as running your foot up and down his calf beneath the table, earning yourself a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. And maybe you had given your Uber driver a hefty tip to make up for what he had to witness in his rearview mirror when you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself. Back in Jeno’s apartment, he barely had gotten his question of whether or not you wanted to watch a movie out before you had your hands in his hair to kiss him stupid. Trusting Jeno to keep you safe from the sharp edges of his furniture, he had maneuvered you into his bedroom where he had gently laid you down on this bed. He took off both of your shoes, carelessly throwing them somewhere in his room, making you giggle before he swallowed the sound with his plush lips. Humming in content, you let your hands roam Jeno’s strong back, getting distracted when he sucked a hickey into your skin just below your jaw. “Everyone’s gonna see,” you whined when he detached himself, his eyes dark. “Good,” he replied with a raspy voice, “Let them see.” 

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you blurted out, grabbing the bottom of his sweater to pull it over his head, leaving him in a tight tank top showing off both his tiny waist and his defined arms. “So not closing the gyms just yet?” He teased before ridding you of your top as well, leaving you in the red bra you had specifically worn for this occasion. “You’re beautiful,” Jeno gulped, tightly holding onto your top. “Thank you,” you smiled, carefully uncurling his fingers to put the offending piece of clothing down. “Sorry, I’m- A little awkward-” he breathed, still rooted in place. “Nothing to be sorry for.” You tried to reassure him, softly kissing him which he hesitantly returned at first before his body lost the tension again and hecarefully placed a hand on your naked waist. “I’m not going to break,” you spoke in between kisses, taking the initiative by climbing onto Jeno’s lap. His answer got lost in another hungry kiss you roped him into. Letting out small sounds of pleasure, you slowly moved your hips on top of him, hoping to feel him stiffen up beneath you. Grinning against his lips when he let out a gasp, you trailed your hands down his front, taking extra time to appreciate his firm pecs, only traveling down further when he shied away from your touch and whined against your lips. Filing the information that he was sensitive there in your head for later, you slipped your hands beneath the tight fabric of his tank to feel the dips of his abs. When you stroked upwards, you could feel the muscles stiffen beneath your touch, making you want to dig your nails into it. But before you could actually do it, Jeno suddenly broke the kiss, breathing heavily and pressing his eyes shut tightly. “Jeno..?” “I’m sorry,” he mumbled before he pushed you off of his lap and bolted from the room. 

Shocked by his reaction, you just lay there on his comforter.  You heard him open his balcony door and presumed he stepped out. What had just happened? With shaking hands, you grabbed Jeno’s discarded sweater to cover yourself up. Seriously. Why had he run off like that?

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Jeno sighed, squeezing your fingers, “And I love you. I really do.” “But you don’t want to have sex with me.” “No. Nonono, that’s not it.” “But you want to wait longer..?” You tried again. “No. I- fuck. I want it. I really do. I’m so fucking attracted to you but-” “But?” “I’m sorry I freaked out.” “Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” “I-” Groaning, Jeno shook his head. “Take your time,” you tried to encourage him, “I won’t be mad.” At that, he let out a humorless chuckle. “There’s… There’s something I haven’t been telling you. And- and I feel really bad for it. Like I roped you into this relationship and haven’t been a hundred percent honest with you.” “Jeno, what?” “I’m sorry.” “Stop apologizing, honey.” You sighed, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “As long as you’re not a wanted criminal in like ten different countries or are terminally ill and dying in the next five months, it’s going to be okay.” “I- can we- can we lay down?” 

“Anything you want.” You smiled gently, pulling back the covers so Jeno could slip beneath them. Immediately, he opened his arms so you could cuddle into his side and pillow your head on his chest so you could hear his furiously beating heart. “You’re so nervous,” you whispered, trying to calm him down by smoothing your hands over his upper body. “This is kind of nerve-wracking.” “It’s going to be okay. I love you.”

“I- Well, I haven’t- I haven’t always looked like this.” “Okay..?” “No, god. Fuck,” Jeno groaned and you had to stifle a giggle. “What I mean is, I haven’t always- well I have but...” “Jeno you’re making no sense,” you didn’t hold back your giggle this time. “Shut up, this isn’t easy,” he whined, playfully shoving you away. Still grinning, you sat up so you could see the smile mirrored on Jeno’s features. 

“Just tell me,” you smiled, gently cupping his face. Still smiling softly, Jeno turned his head to kiss your palm before he took it to guide it to a spot beneath his chin.  “You’ve felt this before, right?” “Your scar? Yeah.” “It’s… It’s from surgery.” “Surgery? On your chin?” “No… On my- on my thyroid technically.” “So it’s an illness,” you concluded, your brows drawing together as you traced the small scar you had never paid much attention to. “No, it was for cosmetic reasons,” Jeno stopped your worries right there. “Cosmetic surgery on your thyroid? I’m not following honey.” “The doc gave me an,” he interrupted himself with a sigh, “He gave me an Adam’s apple.” “An Adam’s apple,” you repeated dumbly because that did not make any sense either. Why would Jeno not have an Adam’s apple? Was he born without one? A genetic defect maybe? But what did it matter? It wasn’t like you were about to start a family and you had to discuss risks. “Yeah, they reconstructed it when I was twenty-one.” “So, you had an accident? And that’s why you freaked out on me? Jeno I- I don’t mind. I love you. Doesn’t matter if you have any more scars or anything. You’re beautiful. Handsome. Whatever you want to call it.” “No. No accident. But I- I do have more scars. Two pretty big ones.” “That’s okay,” you smiled, cupping Jeno’s face to gently kiss his lips. “God, you’re too perfect,” he finally put on a smile again, giggling softly. “Is that it? You freaked out because you thought I’d find you ugly?” Still giggling, Jeno shook his head. “That’s not it at all.” “Then I don’t understand what all this talk about sca-“

“I’m trans,” Jeno blurted out. “What?” “I’m trans,” Jeno repeated himself, way quieter than before, his eyes wide as he tried to read your expression. You weren’t quite sure what emotion your face even showed right now. Hopefully something like confusion. Because while you understood what Jeno’s words meant, it made no sense at all. “But, you’re a guy. A man.” “Yeah, I am,” he smiled, “Just not with the body to match.” “So you’re-“ “I was assigned female at birth,” he confirmed what you couldn’t find the words for, “I was able to start my journey to transition as soon as I was eighteen.” When you couldn’t find your words after a couple of tense seconds, Jeno sat up so you could see eye to eye again. 

“Listen, I’m sorry that I just dropped this on you right now. I should have been honest from the start. And I completely understand if you don’t want to see me ever again. But I just- everything was going so smoothly and I never found the right moment to bring this up and I- god after the stupid jokes Jaemin made about me using steroids at the gym, I thought you somehow maybe had a hunch and would- I don’t know, ask about it? I just want you to know that I had no malicious intentions. I love you. I’m in love with you. And this between us just felt so right and happened so quickly that I- I just did not want to lose it. If I were to lose it because of this… And I really hope that I didn’t majorly fuck up.”

“This… This is a lot to take in,” you spoke carefully and grabbed Jeno’s hands to intertwine your fingers, “Because I really didn’t expect this. I mean I got to know you as a man. You are a man. So, there was no reason for me to ever question that. But…” “But?” Jeno urged you to go on, anxiously chewing on his lower lip. “But I don’t think it even changes anything. I love you. And I don’t think I care that technically you weren’t born male.” “I mean I was. I just got the wrong body assigned,” he smiled lopsidedly. “You’re right, sorry.” “It’s okay, I don’t mind,” Jeno reassured you, bringing your intertwined hands up to his lips, “And you don’t have to make your decision now on the spot. I can just drive you home or take the couch for tonight.” “I don’t want that, I know that. I want to be with you.” As if to prove your point, you climbed back onto Jeno’s lap, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I- I can understand if you don’t. If you want a real man who you can have childr-“ “You are a real man,” you interrupted your boyfriend sternly, “And I couldn’t care less if you have a couple of scars or have to take medication every single morning.” “I’m on shots,” Jeno smiled brightly, his eyes curling into little half moons, “Hence the jokes about how I get steroids injected.” “Well that doesn’t matter either,” you concluded, “You’re my boyfriend. Doesn’t matter what gender you were assigned at birth.” 

“You have no idea how much this means to me.” Jeno was positively glowing, his smile lighting up the room more than his crappy bedside table lamp. “I love you,” you whispered again before finally kissing Jeno again. The kiss wasn’t leading anywhere further despite your position on his lap but you still loved feeling so close to him. 

“I love you too,” he replied when you broke the kiss, “And again, I’m sorry for freaking out. We just got carried away and I wasn’t ready for you to just- Well, to just see me like that. Because it wouldn’t be what you expect to see.” “Do… Do you want to talk about that now?” You asked carefully when you caught his drift. “I want you to be comfortable and not feel like you have to tell me everything right now. The evening was already eventful enough.” “You have made me feel nothing but comfortable,” Jeno reassured you with a gentle smile and a sweet kiss. “I just want you to know everything so you know what you’re signing up for.” 

“Okay,” you agreed easily, falling back into Jeno to share another deep kiss. “Stop distracting me,” he spoke against your lips, playfully taking your lower one between his teeth. “Not my fault you’re so distracting,” you whispered back, adding to your point by squeezing the swell of his biceps. Smiling fondly, Jeno pressed a sweet kiss to your cheek, his eyes so honest and full of love, that you felt your heart ache for him. Before you could proclaim your love for him again in words that felt way too small for the feelings swirling in your chest, he spoke up again. 

“So I… I obviously had top surgery,” he began slowly, tracing a line beneath his pectoral muscle, “So there’s a scar running across right here. It’s not as visible as it was three or four years ago but I- I can still clearly make it out.” “And that makes you uncomfortable?” You tried to understand where he was coming from, carefully placing your hand right where he had traced his scar to not startle him. “It’s not- not really uncomfortable. It’s part of who I am but on off days, it just reminds me that- It reminds me of everything I went through. You know- body dysphoria and all of that. I’m better now. I went to therapy for a long time to work through everything and I’m okay now. Seeing the scars just sometimes brings back the not so pleasant memories.” “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you quietly said and softly kissed your boyfriend again. You knew your words probably were nothing but a bandaid on an open wound but you felt like you needed to say something regardless. “I’m okay,” Jeno repeated himself, a lopsided smile on his lips, “I’m okay now. I can accept the way that I am.” 

Before he spoke up again, you saw his Adam’s apple bob with a dry swallow. “Well, you probably know there’s two big surgeries for transmen. And I- I only had one of them. That’s why I-“ He cut himself off with a groan before pressing his eyes shut tightly. “That’s why I never got hard when we were making out.” “Hey.” You gently reached out to cup Jeno’s face, working your thumbs over the worried creases in his forehead until you had coaxed him to open his eyes again. “I don’t mind,” you smiled. And you truly meant it. How could you be repulsed by the man you loved more than anything else? “I don’t mind.” “But I can’t-“ “There’s other ways.” You tried to sound confident and sure about your words but at the same time, you could feel the heat rushing to your face. “And- and we can find out together what works best.” “I would like that. I really would,” was Jeno’s only response, the bright smile you adored so much back on his handsome features. “I don’t know what I did in my past life to deserve being with someone like you.” “You must have been a decent man,” you grinned, throwing your arms around his neck to hug him close, feeling his heartbeat against yours. 

“I love you,” he spoke into your neck where he had buried his face. “Thank you for telling me about this,” you replied, gently scratching the short hairs at the back of his neck, “For being so open and vulnerable.” “Even if I should have said something weeks ago?” “Even if this talk probably should have happened before we were about to have sex.” You couldn’t help but giggle, holding onto him a little tighter when he let out a loud groan before falling back onto the mattress. The following silence was nothing but comfortable and you almost dozed off when Jeno started to play with your hair. “We’ll take it one step at a time,” he mumbled, craning his head to press a kiss to your hair. “One step at a time,” you agreed.

“Are you… Do you feel like- god, I cannot believe how awkward I am over this,” Jeno cut himself off again when he felt you stifling your giggle into his chest. “What I wanted to ask was if you wanted like… More uuuh- information I guess? On me? As in like? How I work around my body? Or we can just put on a movie.” “Let’s get comfortable first,” you decided, tapping Jeno’s belt buckle. “Do you want me to lend you some clothes?” “You know me too well,” you smiled, slipping out of the bed to get rid of your pants since you were already comfortable in Jeno’s sweater. Smiling, Jeno got up as well to look for shorts for you to wear. “Do you want me to give you privacy to change?” “No. I- I want you to see,” he stuttered as he handed you one of his favorite pair of gym shorts, the hem already frayed from wear. “So you’re going to strip for me?” You tried to loosen him up with a joke. “Any wishes for music?” Jeno doubled down on the joke, even going as far as crowding you back against the bed until your knees hit the mattress. 

“Can I touch?” you asked with your best sultry look as you sat down on the mattress, looking up at Jeno from below your lashes. Gulping, Jeno seemed to think about it for a moment or two, frozen in place. “One- One step at a time,” he ended up saying and taking a step back from you. “That’s okay.” You immediately reassured him again, “That’s what we agreed on. And you took a big one already tonight.” “Yeah,” he agreed, “But I want you to know it all. I trust you.” With that, he took a deep breath before pulling his tank top over his head, leaving his torso bare. 

“Wow,” was the only thing you got out, amazed by how defined his abdominal muscles were. You had a hunch already because of how the rest of his body looked and you had felt them already but damn. He was jacked. “You’ll start drooling. Stop staring,” Jeno blurted out. You guessed that it was supposed to sound teasing but it only came out shy and when you managed to look your boyfriend in the eyes again, there was an adorable blush dusting his cheeks. “You look like that and expect me to not be staring?” “Stop,” he whined, crossing his arms over his chest to cover himself up. “Get dressed then,” you giggled, now finally focusing on the faint scars beneath his pectoral muscles that you wouldn’t even have batted an eye at if he hadn’t told you they were there. Sticking out your tongue at you, Jeno exchanged his tight tank top from earlier for a loose one you had seen him wear in the mornings already. 

“Now this might be really awkward,” he warned you as he unbuckled his belt. “Why would y-” Before you could finish your question, he reached into his waistband and pulled something out. At a loss for words, your eyes jumped from Jeno’s face, who looked like he was barely holding in his laugh, to whatever he was holding in his hand and had just pulled from his pants: It was an oval shape and a dark blue color, fitting just in Jeno’s hand. “What..?” “It’s a packer,” Jeno giggled, placing it on top of his dresser. “A packer…” “So it looks like I have a bulge,” he explained as he stepped out of his jeans to throw them into his hamper. And now that you were staring at his crotch like a psycho, it would make sense to have a little more volume filling out the dark boxer briefs. Kind of? You really weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you were staring at random dude’s crotches on a regular basis. “I- I got a bunch of ones over the years for like different occasions,” he explained slowly, stalling over opening the top drawer of his dresser. “But that’s maybe for another time,” he eventually decided and stuffed the one he had used today somewhere between what looked like socks. “I wasn’t aware that was a thing,” you confessed. “It’s not something a lot of people think about,” he agreed, “Usually, people just expect us to get bottom surgery and then be done with it.” 

With that, he climbed back into the bed, bringing his laptop with him. “And you… You don’t want it..? I mean it’s none of my business really.” “It’s a risky and complex surgery and it’s very expensive too. For now, I’m content with my body, there are ways to work around it. So, I don’t think I’ll get it anytime soon. The testosterone stopped my periods pretty fast but it’s suggested to get you know all the organs and crap out of there because I sure as hell have no use for them.” That comment made you giggle and you were glad Jeno could smile about it as well. 

“I can’t imagine how weird it must have been as a teenager,” you mumbled as you got comfortable against Jeno. “I was miserable,” he mused, “Disney?” “I’m here to listen if you ever want to talk about it.” “Thank you, baby,” he smiled, gently holding your chin as he kissed you softly, “It means the world to me that you’re being so supportive.” “It’s the bare minimum,” you argued but let Jeno kiss your pout away either way. 

“Moana?” “What?” You asked dazedly against Jeno’s spit-slicked lips. “Do you want to watch Moana?” He giggled, peppering kisses around your lips before he trailed down your jaw. “You do not expect me to make a decision on a movie when you’re- fuck, Jeno,” you cut yourself off with a curse when he sucked another bruise right below your jaw. “So that’s a no?” He spoke against your spit-slicked skin, making goosebumps appear and a shiver run down your spine. “Jeno~” What was supposed to come out annoyed, only turned into a mixture of a whine and a moan. He knew your weak spots way too well, one of his hands having sneaked below your (well his) shirt to squeeze your waist. “Hmm?” “If you keep kissing me like this, we will not watch any movie.” “Tell me to stop then.” “Can’t,” you pressed out before you roughly grabbed Jeno by the hair at the back of his head to smash your mouths together again, eagerly swallowing his deep groan. 

“Let me make it up to you,” Jeno whispered in between heated kisses that had your body thrumming with pleasure. “What?” You could only respond dumbly, nothing but static inside your brain. “I wanna make what happened earlier up to you,” he clarified, “Let me make you feel good.” “You already made up for it,” you smiled, gently kissing the tip of his nose. “But I really want to,” he whispered, giving your hips a meaningful squeeze, “If you’re comfortable with it.” “I am comfortable with you, Jeno.” “Then please?” He asked, giving you his sweetest puppy eyes with a pout that would make the tallest icebergs melt. “Should I..?” “No, I’ll be fine,” he reassured you immediately, “I just want to do this for you.” “This being what?” “Eating you out like it’s my last meal,” Jeno rasped right into your ear, making a shiver run down your spine and a spark of pleasure shoot through you, arousal settling low in your stomach. 

“Yes,” you all but pleaded, a whimper leaving your lips when you looked into Jeno’s dark eyes, a teasing grin on his lips. “Relax and just tell me to stop if you need me to,” he reminded you and when you nodded, his grin only seemed to widen as he pulled his shorts from your hips. “Almost forgot about these,” he murmured as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all when he was met with your lacy red panties. Before you had even found the words to tell him not to stare like that, Jeno let himself drop down to his elbows and buried his face between your legs. 

“Jeno~” You could only moan when he pressed wet kisses to the fabric which quickly dampened beneath his skilled lips. Your breath got caught in your throat when he finally brought his fingers into the mix as well, teasing your entrance through the fabric while he flattened his tongue against your clothed clit. “Please,” you whimpered quietly, “Want it.” At the sweet sound of your voice, Jeno groaned deep in his chest and pillowed his head on your thigh so he could catch his breath. “Jeno,” you begged again and laced your fingers through his dark hair. 

“Fuck, you drive me insane,” he cursed before he unceremoniously hooked your panties to the side and licked a long stripe over your folds, moaning when he finally got a real taste of you. Tightening the grip you had on his hair, you held Jeno’s face in place, not willing to take any chances of him stopping. He definitely knew what he was doing, altering between broad licks and stiffening his tongue to fuck it inside you. And on top of that, his eyes never left yours. No matter how often you had to break eye contact because you were too overwhelmed by pleasure, he was always already looking at you when you dared to look down again. 

When he had your thighs already trembling with pleasure and threatening to close around his head, he had the audacity to wink at you before he stretched his jaw wide to fuck his tongue even deeper and if that wasn’t enough to have you see stars, he pressed his face forward so his nose perfectly stimulated your clit as well. “Jenooo~” Overwhelmed by all the pleasure, you moaned his name loud enough that his neighbors must have heard it as well and as if on instinct, your legs snapped closed around his head. At that, he only hummed in what seemed to be disapproval but you didn’t really care when the vibrations felt so good and when he forced your thighs open again, you couldn’t help the next loud moan tumbling past your lips. 

“You’re so loud,” Jeno mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the inside of your thigh. “Please don’t stop,” you could only heave, throbbing when you saw how the lower half of his face glistened with your juices, “Don’t stop.” “Okay, beautiful,” he smiled way too innocently for the position he was in before he attached his lips to your clit, softly sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Shit, fuck,” you cursed and threw your head back while you arched into his touch to which Jeno reacted in kind, putting his hands on your lower back to keep you arched high. Not only was that incredibly hot and it made it easier for him to pleasure you, you now had no chance to squirm away from him. You just had to take what he was giving you and oh, he was giving it to you good. 

“So close, ‘m so close,” you warned Jeno when you were all but riding his face at this point, grinding against his flattened tongue and pressing your clit against his perfect nose. The words only seemed to spur him on, throwing an arm over your stomach to keep you from squirming even more so he could take back control and work his tongue over your clit in quick strokes. “Please, Jeno, please.” You were so close, the knot in your abdomen pulling tighter and tighter but he had you tethering the edge, not enough to push you over. As if he knew exactly what you needed, he fucked two of his fingers into your dripping core and the feeling of being full was all that you needed to finally cum, making a mess all over Jeno’s face that he eagerly cleaned up. 

You weakly mumbled Jeno’s name while coming down from such an intense high that left your thighs quivering and your head fuzzy. With loving touches, you carded your fingers through Jeno’s messed-up hair while he gently dragged his tongue through the mess you had made to clean you up. “So cute,” he giggled when your thighs just wouldn’t stop shaking and pressed a sweet kiss to the inside of one. “Don’t make fun of me,” you whined, hiding your face behind your hands and playfully kicking his shoulder. 

“I’m not,” he promised, the tone of his voice way too fond for what he had just done. With gentle kisses and caresses, he made his way up your body again until he gently nudged your hands to the side so he could press his lips to yours, making you taste yourself on his tongue. Sighing into the kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck to hold him close, hoping that the weight of his body would ground you. 

“Good?” He breathed into the small space between you, leaning his forehead against yours. “So good,” you smiled, tilting your head to playfully kiss his nose, “Thank you.” “You’re welcome..?” He almost asked which made you giggle again, pressing your smile against his in another kiss. “And you’re sure you don’t want me to..?” “Maybe another time,” Jeno smiled lopsidedly, “I’m- I- this was enough for me. I really like making my partner feel good.” “You definitely did that,” you reassured him with a fond smile on your face. 

The moment of silence between the two of you seemed to stretch on and on but neither of you felt the need to break it, simply basking in each other’s presence and studying the other’s face. With gentle touches, you tried to sort out the mess that Jeno’s hair had become while he traced the line of your lips with his pointer finger that you playfully snapped at to hear his giggle again. “I love you,” he eventually confessed, the three simple words making a warm and fuzzy feeling spread inside your chest. “Love you too,” you replied, sealing your lips in another kiss. “Thank you for accepting me,” Jeno whispered when he broke the kiss, rolling off of you to lay on his side. “Of course. I meant it when I said I love you,” you frowned. “But this is different. I’m different. It’s not- not everyone is this accepting.” “You’re still you. Nothing changed.” “Everything changed for me.” The sad smile on Jeno’s face made something shatter inside you and you had to swallow down tears as you buried your face in his chest, hugging him tightly to let him know that you wouldn’t leave him.

[kinardsevan]

30 day fluff challenge, day nineteen

yall didn't think I forgot about this, did you!? I took the liberty of writing this as pre-canon of the aneurysm fic. hot and sweet <3 (you don't have to be reading that to enjoy this.)

beach day - mature (bordering on explicit)

It hadn’t been their plan to end up at the beach. Evan had come off a rough shift and wasn’t feeling great, although he couldn’t entirely put his finger on why—that wouldn’t come along for weeks. But he’d been restless after dinner, too anxiety-riddled to settle down quite yet for the evening. And even though Tommy had come off a rough shift of his own and was exhausted, he’d suggested the water, because it always seemed to make Evan feel better after a bad day. 

Which was how he found himself walking through the wet sand, surf intermittently slapping at his toes every few minutes. They’d left their shoes by the truck in deference of having them filled with the tiny grains. Besides, Tommy always kept a spare towel in the back seat of the cab so that if they found themselves there, they could clean their feet off before climbing back in. 

Tommy slides his fingers into Evans as they trudge along the shore, glancing down the coast towards seagulls several hundred yards away. 

“Was it a bad call,” he asks, glancing up towards the blonde. 

Evan shakes his head, skepticism crossing over his features. “No. I just feel…” He pauses, glances off into the water as though the depths of the ocean willl provide him with the answers he can’t find. “I don’t know. Unsettled?” 

“Hmm.” Tommy hums in response, but doesn’t give any further information on his inclination towards the younger man’s emotions. He waits a few minutes, letting Evan process through whatever is happening inside his head before he speaks again. “Anything to do with the wedding? I know we’ve got some deadlines coming up.” 

Evan whips his head back then, shaking it quickly. “No, not at all.” He presses his lips together in a hard line has he looks beyond Tommy, uncertain. 

“I don’t know what it is,” he admits softly. “Something just feels off.” 

Tommy nods, squeezing his hand. Evan leans the front of his shoulder into his fiancé’s, dropping his face against the curve of Tommy’s shoulder. His heart flutters in his chest—an odd feeling, something he’s noticed a few times now. He sighs. 

“Maybe we just need to take a trip out of town for a few days,” Tommy murmurs before turning his head and kissing the top of Evan’s. Evan wrinkles his face, contemplative. “We could fly down to San Diego for the weekend. Maybe sneak over the border to TJ.” 

Evan chuckles at the suggestion, lifting and turning his head towards Tommy. “And what? Get drunk on cheap tequila?” 

Tommy shrugs, smirking at him. “I mean I think Maddie might kill us if we get married in another country.” 

Evan’s grin pulls further across his face. His family would definitely not be okay with them circumventing all the wedding plans with all the work that’s already been put in. He had argued with Maddie for weeks purely on the discussion over whether he and Tommy should have a theme or just choose colors. It had taken even longer to convince his sister that navy and evergreen would be prettier in November than black and silver. 

Tommy nudges at the back of his head with his mouth and Evan leans up, looking up at him. Tommy turns, faces him. The wind blows and he shivers. Tommy chuckles, grabbing his wrists and sliding them inside his open sweater. Evan smirks at him, tilting his head as he slides his fingers down towards the hem of the sweater, finding the hem of Tommy’s henley and slipping his fingers beneath it. Tommy shivers at Evan’s cold fingers on his skin as he tugs him in, brushing his lips over Evan’s. 

“I really love you, you know that,” he murmurs softly, brushing a hand down the back of Evan’s head, his gaze drifting across Evan’s features like he’s trying to memorize him. It’s that gaze that makes Evan’s heart feel like it might leap out of his chest, like the stuttered beats are brought on by the level of love that Tommy shows him. His heart starts to pound—something he’s all too used to at this point—but it still makes him a little breathless. 

“Sometimes I still don’t know how I got this lucky,” Evan whispers back, leaning forward, bumping his nose up againt Tommy’s as he grazes his lips against his fiancé’s. Tommy closes the millimeters between them, sucking Evan’s bottom lips into his mouth. Evan groans softly, the slightest bit of pain radiating in his chest at the weight of it all. His toes curl in the sand as his grip tightens on Tommy’s back, fingernails digging lightly into his skin. Tommy groans back, his tongue finding its home in Evan’s mouth. Tommy’s free hand slides down Evan’s chest between them, lightly fisting the fabric of his hoodie when he finally pulls away. 

“Little bit excited,” Tommy teases, smiling at the way Evan’s cheeks are flushed, his eyelids fluttering and his lips still parted, swollen. He can feel Evan’s heart racing under the fabric. 

“You make me insane,” Evan rasps, leaning in and brushing his lips over Tommy’s once more. “Now please rail me in the truck because I’m not going to make it home like this.” 

Tommy chuckles, his smile growing wide. He glances around the empty beach and then back in the direction of where they parked. 

“Anything you want,” he replies hoarsely. Evan gulps, seeing the way Tommy’s pupils widen as he looks back at him. Oh fuck.

Sometimes he wonders when they’ll get sick of each other. It’s been over a year and a half, pretty damn close to two. Still, as they trudge up the sand, he struggles to see the downside of anything in their relationship. Sure, they fight sometimes, and they’ve had the hard discussions. They both have a hair trigger when it comes to the other getting injured at work. But Evan had been sure that the level of in love he’d felt at six months in, when they were still close enough to being brand new that nothing felt like it could go wrong, and also comfortable enough that everything together felt safe, that it would never get better than that. That he could never find a way to love Tommy more. Sometimes he wishes he could go back and tell the version of himself that had been sure their relationship was over after their first big fight—he’d been reckless in a save that had almost gotten him killed and Tommy was pissed—that it got better. It got so much better. 

They reach the truck and Tommy spins him, pressing Evan’s back flat against the steel frame, finding his lips effortlessly as he tugs on the handle of the backseat passenger door. When he gets it open, he steps back just far enough to get Evan away from the frame before he’s lifting him underneath his thighs, settling him inside the vehicle. Evan pulls back, sliding backwards on the seat as Tommy steps up on the doorframe and then comes in after him, pulling the door shut behind him as he kneels between Evan’s legs on the seat. His f-150 isn’t nearly big enough for both of them in the back seat, let alone for a quickie, but they’ve done it before and they’ll probably do it again. 

Tommy’s hands shove under Evan’s hoodie and t-shirt and he ducks down, attaching his lips to a spot on Evan’s ribs and then moving upwards, kissing along his body, sucking in a nipple, flicking his fingers over the other while Evan yanks at his jeans, trying to get Tommy free. 

“S-stop,” he stammers, pushing himself up against the driver’s side back door. Tommy comes up, flushed, licking into his mouth as Evan pulls him forward, shifts his legs around until he’s kneeling while he continues to pull on Tommy’s pants, getting them down to his knees. Tommy makes quick work of Evan’s pants, and then he’s kicking them down, and they slump into a pile on the floor before Tommy is pulling him over his lap, shifting Evan over him until he’s nudging at his rim. Evan whimpers, leaning down and kissing Tommy fully. Tommy slides two fingers in just to test, making him squeal into his mouth, and then the fingers are gone and he’s adjusting himself again, easing Evan down, drinking in the cries that fall out of the younger man’s mouth as he settles. Their lips break apart as he bottoms out, Evan entirely settled on top of him, their breaths hot and hitting a wall against each other. Tommy squeezes his ass and Evan grunts softly, nudging his nose against Tommy’s as he feels the shift inside from the small movement. 

“I love you,” Tommy states hoarsely. Evan grinds his hips. “Oh fuck, Evan, I love you.” 

His heart is racing, and he’s hot, both literally and figuratively, and all he can think is, life can’t possibly get any better than this. 

[slashers-and-rats]

woof woof, bark bark.

billy lenz x fem!reader | nsfw | puppy play, humping

a/n: BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT. BARK LIKE YOU WANT IT, BABYY

the collar was tight around billy’s neck. it fit snug, and added a bit of tension to every breath he took.

that was the only thing he was focused on currently. breathing. that, and looking cute. that had been your instructions, given to him with a smile and a pat on his head. “all you have to do today is sit back and look pretty, puppy,” you purred to him. it made his stomach twist into knots. his nose had scrunched up, a wide smile stretching his lips. he couldn’t help it. he loved how that word sounded rolling off your tongue.

puppy.

billy was a puppy. he was obedient, excitable- he drooled and panted, and craved to be pet by you. if he crawled like a dog, and barked like a dog, he must be a dog, right?

he did make sure to commit to the role. you had been relaxed on the couch, searching for something to watch on the tv, and he had been down by your feet. his chin was rested on your knee, where you ran your fingers through his hair and occasionally scratched at his chin. he was in his sweater and boxers, with that collar clasped tight around his neck, and he was oh so happy.

it felt right to be beneath you. so often he tried to sound so scary and dominant. the things he threatened you with always came out as stern demands. but, in practice, he preferred to be pampered. he liked that you could take all his control away, leaving him nothing but an empty brained mutt, ready to obey your every order.

he was rock hard. he had tried to ignore it at first, pushing the arousal into the back of his mind. he was always horny, sometimes he could just wrangle it into submission and forget about it.

this time, though… he couldn’t. this situation was different. with the introduction of little thought, came the forced focus to the scene at play. he was between your legs, so close to your pussy he could practically taste it, and it made him ache. sometimes you’d shift and widen your legs, and he’d see up your shorts and to the bare skin that laid underneath.

he wanted so desperately to shove his face between your legs. he wanted to devour your cunt, and trace every inch of skin with his tongue, and feel your walls tighten around his fingers. he wanted to feel you squirming against the cushions, and listen to the way you moaned and praised him for having such a good mouth. sometimes, when he was alone, he’d practice on his hand, and think about how you’d reward him for developing such useful skills.

you must’ve noticed his focus. he was licking his lips, staring intently at your stomach. if he looked too low, he’d become overwhelmed. no, he was trying to behave.

billy looked up when he felt your hand stop petting him. he whimpered, pressing up into your touch, and you giggled. “hey, calm down…” you moved your palm to his face, running your thumb up and down his jaw. “is my good boy getting a little worked up?” billy gazed up at you, eyes widening slightly. and here he thought he was hiding it well. it made his face red to know you could see right through him. he loved it. he nodded slowly, pressing his lips against your hand, still watching you. “tell me what you’re feeling, billy. use your words.”

for a moment, he struggled. he pushed out wheezing breaths, some drool beginning to spill from his lips. he wiped it away with his sweater, embarrassed at his lack of coherence. he tried again, only being able to produce a low moan, and his hips bucked lightly into the fabric of his boxers. he was too focused on you, and how you were looking at him. you were so encouraging, patting his head and urging him to continue. he knew the second he managed to give a request, you’d honour it with nothing but joy. he was getting ahead of himself.

“i-i… billy feels hot. so hot,” he whined, pressing his face into your thigh. if he hid his face, he wouldn’t be able to see you, and maybe he could actually get through his response. “i-i feel like I’m on fire… burning, I’m burning in hell. you’re my heaven. i wanna be in heaven- i wanna be inside you…” he breathed out against your inner thigh, opening his mouth and pressing the side of his lips to your leg. he knew he wasn’t allowed to kiss, not yet, but he’d get as close as he could before getting chastised.

you looked so entertained. you looked down at him and watched him struggle, like a ruler observing peasants. he felt inferior, pathetic, and weak. it felt so right. he wanted to be less than you, he wanted you to take over every bit of his life. he was a pervert, a monster, and you were a merciful goddess giving him treatment he didn’t even deserve.

“such a naughty puppy.” the words pulled him from his thoughts. he shook his head, whimpering. he wasn’t naughty, he couldn’t be. he began to object, sputtering and coughing up mangled arguments, but you shushed him. “don’t worry, I’m not gonna punish you for being so dirty. I’m gonna give you a little treat, actually.”

billy barked with excitement. it came out so naturally, he didn’t even expect it. it made you laugh. he loved that sound, and you smiled so beautifully. he smiled too, wiggling his hips as if wagging a tail that wasn’t there.

you sat up, pushing your leg in between his own, and pressing your shin into his bulge. he gasped at the new bit of pressure. he looked up at you, shocked, and yet his hips bucked against the small bit of touch he was getting. your leg was bare against his boxers, and his hands were gripping at your thigh as if to anchor himself to reality.

“you can hump my leg, okay?” you stroked a hand over his cheek, and he melted into the touch. “c’mon, puppy, use my leg.”

he didn’t wait this time, yanking his underwear down, and beginning to pump his cock up and down the front of your leg. it made him moan low in his throat, mouth hanging open and spit dripping down onto your leg. he was so needy. he didn’t understand how after everything, he could still feel this aroused, and yet here he was. he was riding your leg like he used to his pillows, imagining it was your hand or your face rubbing against his cock. if he closed his eyes real tight, he could get lost in it all.

all the while, you kept petting the top of his head, and speaking through his humping. you praised him, showering him with affection and sweetness. it seeped into his nerves, and set them on fire. he felt tight and hot, and every thrust against your flesh sent a wave of lava over his body. it felt so good. not just the way he was grinding against you, but the way you looked at him. underneath your gaze, everything felt so much more sensitive. he didn’t understand it, but something about being this pathetic made his entire earth shake.

“b-billy’s a good boy?” he pushed this out through whines and whimpers, pushing his face against your stomach, right over top of your crotch. he wanted to dip his head down and indulge himself. but, that was usually a treat you saved for the end of the day, when he was strung out and truly on his last leg. that’s when he really shoved his face into your lips, when he really ate you out like he was starving.

he stared up at you, eyes wide and deceivingly innocent. it made your own face turn red, and you bit your lip. you tugged at his hair, forcing his face all the way up, so he was looking at you. “you’re my naughty little puppy, billy. you’re a good boy, but you’re so dirty. look at you right now. is this what innocent good boys do?”

billy whined again, speeding up his hips. “n-no… billy’s naughty. I’m so dirty, billy’s so dirty…!”

you hummed in agreement. you hooked your finger into his collar and pulled him up into your lap. it was such a sudden movement, it left billy rutting into the air in between you. the second he was on your lap, he was scrambling for something to fuck against again. he found that in the form of your stomach and thigh. he slid his cock up and down your torso, his grip finding purchase in your shoulders.

“you think you can cum like this?” you asked, holding his butt and guiding his hips. he shook, pressing his face down into your shoulder. he latched his mouth onto the skin there, moaning into it, and gurgling out a needy whine. you took that as a yes, and continued guiding his movements, making him fuck hard against your thigh.

he was wrapped around you, trying to get as close to you as possible. he felt so overwhelmed. fire was running through every vein, his head was getting foggy and hot. there was nothing on his mind except the throb of his cock, and how good it felt to be humping you. the embarrassment added so much to his pleasure.

he found himself coming hard, the orgasm knocking the wind out his stomach. while warm ropes of cum shot out over your shirt, he was quaking and howling into your shoulder. he was a snake, coiling around you and squeezing the air out. you held him in response, letting him ride out his orgasm. it took a minute. his cock kept twitching, and his he’d buck his hips at the aftershocks. but, soon he settled, his body limp against your own.

“such a good boy,” you cooed, rubbing his back. “you’re such a good doggy. the best doggy.”

the praise sounded like music in his head. it drifted through the fog, and landed smooth against his eardrums. he felt good and relaxed.

you didn’t think he’d be getting up again any time soon, so you got comfortable against the couch with his weights on you, and returned to channel surfing. he shut his eyes, letting himself feel safe in that moment.

he was a good puppy. your good puppy.

[tojiscumdumpster]

CHAPTER TEN - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

 I shouldn’t be nervous. I’ve been on plenty of first dates before, so my dating life isn’t completely non-existent. It’s just been a while. But the men that I have gone out with haven’t been Toji Fushiguro. 

 Okay, so maybe I am a bit nervous. 

 Despite all the small interactions me and Toji had these past two weeks, I still find myself overthinking about our date. 

 I mean, everything should go fine, yes? What difference would it make if this wasn’t considered a date and just another spontaneous meeting? 

 It’s not, Y/N. 

 I know, but it feels different because we agreed to get to know each other. This man, that I barely know yet feels awfully familiar, manages to put butterflies in my stomach. He kisses me in a way that feels light, and holds me possessively to make me feel like I’m his. And I may be looking ahead of myself, but I wouldn’t mind if he considers me that. 

 Something about Toji feels right, like I’m almost positive everything will go well between us the more we open up. But Toji isn’t the only one who feels skeptical about this either. 

 The last time I felt this quickly about someone, I ended up getting my heart broken. That someone being, Nanami. 

 And knowing me, if I fall in love, I fall hard. . . I want that same sentiment. Nanami gave it to me, but it wasn’t consistent and it didn’t last. 

 Toji? Well, my heart might be taking a risk if I end up falling in love with a single dad who’s a widow. Let’s also not forget I’m his son’s high school reading teacher. 

 A lot of what ifs, maybes, and mishaps can happen between us. However, I’m willing to see what happens. 

 I can’t allow my hesitancy to prevent me from trying because there’s just something about Toji Fushiguro that I get enough of. 

 While I was finishing up getting ready, I heard a knock at my door. 

 “Seven-thirty. Oh, he’s early,” I mutter to myself, looking at the time. 

 Before I go to answer, I take a quick look in the mirror. 

 Toji didn’t tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing, but I took the hint of him saying I need energy to not wear anything too formal or heels. 

 So my outfit is simple. 

 I feel really pretty wearing a white ruffle crop top that sits off my shoulders and pairing it with a russet brown high slit skirt. 

 I kept my makeup natural, but went a little bolder with my lips by coating them with a brown gloss. And my hair? The wash-and-go I did a few days ago is still on my side, so I just fluffed out my curls with a pick. 

 I was too busy admiring myself in the mirror, I almost forgot Toji was waiting for me.

 Quickly I grabbed my purse and phone to answer the door and I couldn’t prevent my mouth from spreading into a smile upon seeing him. 

 Can this man get any finer? 

 I’ve never dated a man where we had a huge age difference, let alone twelve years, but it seems like I was missing out because who knew forty-two could look that good. 

 “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Fushiguro.” Immediately his masculine, amber and woody musk scent permeates my senses. Then, I take in his appearance. 

 How his physique fills out the white sweater and black jeans he’s wearing makes me wet beyond measure. Especially when I know what he looks like underneath. Well, at least not all underneath. 

 But it looks like I’m not alone with admiring how one looks. 

 Toji hasn’t said a word to me. He barely acknowledged that I spoke to him, however, the look in his eyes…how he’s staring at me, studying my body and what I’m wearing…

 If he keeps looking at me like that, I can guarantee you I’ll say fuck this date and pull him into my apartment. 

 I’m very tempted, too, since it’s been a while. 

 “I’m assuming I dressed up nice?” I asked suggestively. 

 “You’re beautiful.” Not you look, but you are. 

 His admission makes my cheeks hot. 

 “Thank you,” I replied while tucking a curl behind my ear. “You came early, I see.” 

 “Hope that’s okay? Just didn’t feel like waiting another thirty minutes.”

 It’s more than okay. 

 “You’re fine.” 

 He gives me a small smile. “Ready to go?”

 “Yeah, let me just grab my things-” If I said I wasn’t nervous, I would be lying because I already have my purse and phone in my hand. “Actually, never mind. I have everything I need.” He gives me a curt nod and waits for me to lock my door. 

 As we’re walking toward the elevator, Toji’s hand rests on the curve of my back like it’s second nature to him. And it could just be the natural thing to do, guiding me through the halls, despite this being my apartment building. 

 But it’s those small gestures that are most effective to me. 

 I show little to no reaction to what his hand on my bare skin does to me. How it transfers warmth to my body and spreads goosebumps across it. It feels good. 

 Territorial and protective. 

 I’m not sure where this night with Toji will take me, but I’m ready to see. 

 Never in a million years would I ever deem Toji Fushiguro to be the type to plan a picnic. Yet here we are. 

 For a man that claims he’s not looking for a relationship, he sure is making it hard for me to not fall in love with him, especially in this setting. How the sky is a perfect shade of midnight that’s accompanied by the stars and moon, makes it more intimate. 

 The night isn’t too cold. A soft breeze and lingering heat from earlier today. 

 Though, what’s making this scenery better is Toji’s pale complexion that contrasts perfectly with the time of day. To think his rich shade of green hues would be complimented the most in the sun, here I am at night being proved wrong. 

 “A picnic, Mr. Fushiguro? Seems pretty intimate. Don’t you think?” I opted to break the silence because if I stared at this ridiculously attractive man, he would’ve noticed if he hadn’t already. 

 A small smile curves on his face. “I don’t like being around people when I don’t have to.”

 “Oh. Is that your only reason?”

 “No, I wanted you alone to myself because I don’t need a fucking server in our faces every two seconds asking if we need refills or a dessert.” 

 Alone time with you is what I’m worried about. 

 In more ways than one, Toji has shown me how territorial he can be, and it does not work in my favor when I happen to be turned on by it. 

 I clear my throat. “Hm, I see.”

 “Besides, pretty sure my cooking tastes much better than whatever restaurant I would’ve taken you to.” I watch him unpack a few bento boxes and plastic cups to fill our drinks with. He opted for apple cider and I’m completely only with that, given the fact that Toji doesn’t drink. 

 He continues, “I hope you don’t mind Japanese food.”

 “Absolutely not. That’s the only thing I miss about my ex, and one of the many things I miss about living in Japan. The amount of cuisines I had access to,” I tell him. “It’s so fresh and savory.”

 While I ramble about my love for his culture’s food, I notice a tick in his jaw and his blank expression. Am I…

 “Sorry, am I talking too much?”

 “No,” he deadpans. 

 “Why the sudden change-”

 “Your ex. This is the second time you brought him up. On top of that, you said you miss him.”

 It completely slipped my mind that I have mentioned Nanami twice in my passing conversation with Toji. 

 Way to freaking blow it, Y/N. You haven’t had a relationship with anyone else in years and here you go bringing up your ex-fiancé while you’re on a date.

 Has dating always been this nerve wrecking?

 “I didn’t mean to-”

 “Make me jealous?” He interjects. Those were not the words I was going to say. 

 “No? Why would I try to? And why would you be?”

 “Why would I be jealous of another fucker experiencing you?” He asks sarcastically. “Miss L /N, I’m sure you can figure that out.”

 He’s… jealous? There’s no way this should be turning me on right now, but of course my thighs subtly rubbing together couldn’t make it more evident.

 “I’ll be more cautious.”

 The tension and dead silence between us is thick, but not in a bad way. What I’ve come to learn about Toji in all our interactions is that he's an open book. Whatever’s on his mind, whether it’s something sexual or about his personal life, he tells me. 

 Those hues that remind me of the rainforest, jade and earth like, tells me. They hold power, darkening while leisurely ogling my body, slowly trailing up and down my curves until they meet with my eyes once more. 

 Whenever Toji looks at me like that, my heart pounds against my chest and sensation builds between my legs. He has no shame from looking at me with such animalistic hunger. 

 It… entices me. 

 Does he not know what this does to me?

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask breathlessly. 

 “Like what?”

 “Like you want to devour me.”

 All Toji does is trace his bottom lip with his tongue and hums. 

 Gosh, I need this man so fucking badly. 

 “How was your day?” He chooses to ignore my question. A first from him, actually. 

 I tuck a curl behind my ear. “It was fine. Work was work.”

 He sighs. “Wish I could say the same.”

 “Something happened?”

 He takes the apple cider out of the chiller and pours a glass for me before pouring one of his own. Our fingertips graze and a touch as simple as that has chills running down my spine. 

 “The owner sold the club to a new fucker and it seems like the gods are fucking with me.” 

 “How so? The new owner is a douche?” I ask, causing him to let out an incredulous chuckle.

 “More than that. The-” He stops short of sentence, contemplating if he wants to tell me what’s on his mind. 

 “You don’t have to tell me, Toji. It’s okay,” I reassure him. 

 “No, it’s fine. It’s just—thinking about my life back in Japan puts me in a shitty mood.” 

 I place my hand on his thigh to give him a comforting squeeze. Again, we sat in silence for a bit until he decided to tell me about what happened at work. 

 My expression remains neutral while Toji tells me about someone from his family that disowned him is the one who purchased the club. Apparently a cousin he didn’t know even existed. 

 He doesn’t go too much into detail about his family history, but my stomach is filled with disgust hearing that his uncle is practically forcing the kids to get married and make babies. All for the sake of fucking keeping a generation alive. 

 Yet my heart breaks for Toji knowing that’s the type of environment he grew up in. 

 I can tell that definitely affected his fathering to Megumi. 

 “Oh… wow. That’s-”

 “Sad?” He attempts to finish for me. 

 “No. Well, I mean, yeah. But I was going to say how shitty your family is. You didn’t deserve that.”

 He chuckles, stuffing a rice ball in his mouth. “How do you know what I deserve?”

 “I don’t, but it’s definitely not trauma from people that’s supposed to love and protect you.”

 Toji stops chewing for a moment, like he’s trying to process what I said, but quickly gathered himself together. 

 “That’s how they treat the fuck up.”

 I grab his chin to hold and force him to look at me. “Hey, what did I tell you about being kind to yourself?”

 His eyes slightly widen while locking with mine as if he’s in disbelief from what I said. Or I don’t know, maybe because I grabbed his face. 

 It might’ve been bold for me to do that, especially knowing Toji is affected by my touch as well, but I refuse to hear him belittle himself like that. 

 I’ve had my fair share of pain over the years, but it isn’t nearly enough or comparable to what Toji had or has  to endure. 

 I just hate seeing the people I care about talk down on themselves. And despite us barely knowing each other,  Toji Fushiguro is definitely on my list. 

  His face softens. “You bossing me around now, Miss L /N?” The tenderness and earnestness in his voice makes my stomach flutter. 

 “If that’s what it takes to get through that big head of yours, then yeah,” I answer, playfully letting go of his chin to push his face away. I attempt to take a sip of my apple cider, but Toji latches onto my hand to hold against his lips. 

 “Okay,” is all he says. That simple response that spreads warmth beneath my cheeks and has me internally squealing like a little girl in a candy store. 

 Thirty minutes into our date and I already want to be lovey dovey with him by showering him with kisses. 

 I can only imagine how long I’ll have until I can no longer control myself. 

 The time goes by smoothly with Toji and I. After eating his delicious food and having comfort conversations, I’ve never felt more relaxed. 

 It’s been awhile since I felt this way, like the world doesn’t exist. That’s what happens when I’m around him. We just… talk. More so, me, and he does all the listening, occasionally putting his input or talking about himself. 

 I’ve learned a lot about Toji within these past few hours. His guilty pleasure in gambling, which I don’t mind because betting on horse races is pretty normal. Being able to witness Toji yelling like an obsessed fan is a sight worth seeing. 

 However, I think my favorite part of our conversations is seeing how his face lights up and softens when talking about his son.

 Usually, he tells me what pains him when it comes to his relationship with Megumi, but this time, I’m gifted with the happy moments Toji remembers. 

 Like when he was born or even down to the first word he spoke in English. I wish Toji had my eyes so he could see how he looks whenever he talks about him. 

 Despite his current strained relationship with his son, I know Toji is trying his best to be a father to him. I can’t help but look at him with such affection. 

 “Why are you looking at me like that?” The smile on his face makes me believe he’s mocking me when I asked the same question earlier. 

 “It’s a crime for me to look at you?”

 “With those eyes? Yeah,” he answers, continuously massaging my thigh. 

 I giggle. “And what kind of eyes are mine?”

 “Brown. Beautiful. Soft. Pretty enough to make a fucker weak in the knees.” He tells me this with no hesitation and it catches me off guard.

 I’m lost for words.

 “I… just enjoy hearing you talk, especially about Megumi. It feels humbling.”

 He hums. “I think having a kid makes you feel that way. I truly was a fucking train wreck before I met his mother and had him. Enough motivation to be better. To do better.”

 “Can I know more about her?”

 By how his hand stops midway while rubbing my thigh, I know he knows who I mean by her.

 Instant regret hits me because I feel like I overstepped a boundary. Toji doesn’t look at me, but there’s a smile on his face. I quickly spew out an apology, however, he reassures me that I’m okay. 

 “It’s not you, just… not now. Maybe another time,” he says, resuming his massages. “C’mon, Y/N. I know better than to talk about my late wife while I’m on a date. Cut me some slack.”

 I place my palm against his cheek to rub his flesh with my thumb. “I know she meant a lot to you.”

 “Yeah, she did… But I think I have another person who’s starting to mean something to me, too.”

 “Yeah?” I question, smiling. “Who?”

 “My son’s reading teacher. She’s fucking hot and has a nice ass.” I playfully swat his chest, earning me a hearty chuckle from him. “Just being honest.”

 “Whatever.”

 “Yeah, whatever?” I don’t know where it started, but suddenly Toji leaned forward, leaving but a breath away from kissing.

 I look at him through lidded eyes, altering my attention between his irises and his lips. No drinking has been done, but I feel drunk off his energy. 

 How he looks at me. Talk to me. The way his hand goes up and down my thigh slowly, intimately, creeping closer to my center that I know is currently pooling wetness.

 Toji Fushiguro knows the effect he has on me. He freaking made me come from just drying humping. Every night I visualize him between my legs, licking and sucking until I’m writhing above him. To fuck me so passionately and aggressively with his cock until I’m begging for more.

 I want him to imprint my insides. I want to be desired and worshiped by this man. I can’t help but look deprived by fisting his sweater to pull him closer to mouth to kiss, only for him to rear back and taunt me. 

 He tsks. “Why are you so fucking needy? Hm?” His hand cuffs my face, digging his fingers into my cheeks to purse my lips. “Always whimpering. You know what that shit does to me?”

 “Because I want you.”

 “Where do you want me? Here?” I arch into him and whine from feeling his hand hike up my skirt to palm my pussy. 

 I nod with such eagerness.

 “You call this string, panties? I can easily rip these off and eat that sweet fat pussy right now.”

 “Can you?” I ask, sounding like I’m losing all senses. Toji answers me by pulling my thong to the side to thumb my clit. 

 It’s almost embarrassing how wet he finds me considering he hasn’t barely touched me. My grip on his sweater grows tighter, bound to leave wrinkles the more fervently he rubs circles around my clit.

 He flicks faster, my soft moans and wetness being played with fills the space between us, being only audible for him to hear. 

 Toji drags his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent and leaving open mouthed kisses. Along the way, my fingers slip through his dark locks to tug him closer. 

 And to think Toji would continue to tease me without inserting his fingers inside of me, his fingers sinking inside of my pussy says otherwise.

 “Ohh…” I breathed. 

 “Fuck. . . How long you been wet for me like this, princess?”

 I clench around his fingers at the pet name. 

 He begins pumping in and out of me while leaving love marks across my flesh. His fingers… they’re so thick and the perfect length to deliver pleasure. They stretch me, and I feel desperation pricking my skin at wanting to feel his cock inside of me, too.

 I latch onto Toji’s face to meet mine and force our lips together. I couldn’t take not kissing him because kissing him feels like everything has stopped around us. I know all I need is to taste him to know that I’ll be okay. 

 He chuckles into my mouth, which I’m guessing due to my neediness and boldness, but that soon turns into groans I happily devour. 

 “Toji,” I gasp, breaking our kiss for some air with nothing but a string of saliva connecting us. 

 “As much as I enjoy hearing you moan my name, stop talking.” It’s like déjà vu because I immediately think about the first night we kissed and I told him the same thing. 

 Toji is addictive. I can’t stop saying this. How he sucks on my tongue possessively and bites down on my bottom lip, damn near drawing blood, has me wanting to submit to him. 

 He’s the type of man that could tell me what to do not because I allow him, but for the reason he knows that he can. 

 I want him to have his way with me. I want him to keep thrusting his fingers in my pussy until I come and moan his name uncontrollably. 

 God, who knew fingering could feel this good. 

 “A little faster, Toji,” I muffle through our kiss. 

 “Trying to boss me around? How can I say no,”—his pace picks up and finger fuck me harder—“when you fucking sound like that?”

 I instinctively raised my hips and spread to have his digits pump deeper inside of me. His thumb finds my clit once more and I shudder beneath him. My hands claws into the flesh of his scalp, making it clear I’m close to my orgasm.

 We kiss for a bit longer before he starts showing attention to my face, peppering his lips softly across my cheeks. The gesture, it feels… unlike him. 

 Not that I expect Toji to only be rough with me, but for him to be this tender while finger fucking my pussy… I’m bound to fall in love with this man. 

 “You sound pretty. Moaning for me. Saying my name like that’s all you know in that little teacher brain of yours,” he whispers, kissing behind my ear. An airy chuckle escapes his mouth that furthers the libido that’s pumping through my veins. “This pussy is so fucking tight. You sure you could take me, baby girl?”

 “Toji, yes. Just fuck me… Please.”

 He shakes his head. “Not here, sweetheart. I want you spread out on the bed when I’m balls deep inside of you. I want to hear the bed creaking when you’re riding my cock, and see those pretty titties bouncing in my face.” The more he speaks to me in this timbre is only aiding my near release. “But don’t worry, Miss L/N. I’ll take care of you tonight with just my fingers. Got this fucking pussy soaking and squeezing the fuck out of me. Just keep sounding sexy like that for me. Okay?”

 Fuck... I feel myself coming. He slows down his thrust and applies more pressure to my throbbing clit. I match his movements by circling my hips around his fingers. 

 Toji’s voice alone is enough to make me orgasm, and it hits me hard. The nerves of fire I had coiled in the pit of my stomach finally unleashes and has me moaning louder than usual, with a few breaths being stuck in my throat.

 Coming this hard just from being fingered and talked to so passionately with such obscenity, I’m a crying mess. And in the midst of my release, I squirt. Something I’ve never done before.

 He chuckles, “Good girl. Good fucking girl. You always messy like this?”

 “Oh–Oh, God… Toji… I–I don’t know. Why does this feel so good?”

 “I said I was going to take care of you. Right?” T0ji removes his fingers from my pussy, taking his time to collect enough of my arousal in his hand to bring to his face. He raises his hand in the air and separates his fingers, groaning at the sight of my wetness gleaming under the moonlight.

 Toji brings his hand to his nose and deeply inhales my scent, pleasurably exhaling while sucking my juices off his fingers.

 “You taste fucking good, sweets.”

 Sweets. Hearing him call me that does even more to me than being called princess. 

 Now, I feel even more desperate for Toji, completely losing my senses and busying my hands trying to unbuckle his pants. I want him. I crave him. Am I needy? Yes, although I don’t remember ever being this way, but that’s what happens when you’re finger fucked by Toji Fushiguro.

 “Easy girl,” he rasps, latching onto my wrists to halt my erratic movements. “As much as I enjoy watching you being so desperate for me, I don’t want you to feel obligated-”

 I cut him off. “No, I just want your dick inside of me.”

 “Fuck, you’re making it hard for me, Y/N.”

 “You are. I’m making it easy for you,” I argue.

 He clasps onto my chin to place the sweetest kiss on my lips. My body relaxes and I feel content with tasting myself on him. “Not like this… Okay?”

 “Okay,” I answered, giving him a small smile.

 “So… you’re a squirter? We’ll have to push you like that again.”

 If it wasn’t for my dark brown complexion, I know my warmth would show. “Please don’t remind me.”

 He throws his head back and lets out a laugh that has me joining him. “Nothing to be embarrassed about, sweets. It’s sexy.”

 After being cleaned up by the travel size wipes I keep in my purse, Toji and I lay together and talk for hours under the midnight sky. 

 As I said before, Toji is a beautiful catalyst that I’m ready to get to know.

 The familiarity I feel around him is compelling. And I’m aware that we agreed on something casual for now, but after tonight, I don’t think that would be possible for me.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

discussion question #6 — nothing really pertaining to this chapter, but how are we feeling about the story so far? im honestly enjoying it. i do apologize for the long update. next chapter will be out in a few weeks and it'll be a timeskip, about a month or so. thank you for reading and i'll see you next time ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

[newtonsheffield]

Could we see Rugby Player Anthony and Pop Star Kate’s first date? Pretty please????

Anonymous asked: Loved the one shot. For science, can we see their first date?

Okay, let’s do it

“You’d tell me if you thought this was a bad idea right?”

Edwina sighed, “If I didn’t think this was a good idea, I wouldn’t have given him your phone number.”

“But like… I came down to London for this, and I don’t know where we’re going and what if he doesn’t actually like me?” Kate sighed, staring out the window, “What if he’s just… doing this for publicity or…?”

“Maybe, but there’s a reason you wanted to go out with him right? You must have seen something.”

Kate swallowed, remembering the earnestness in his eyes when he’d told her the story about his father, when he’d spoken about his little sister, “Yeah he was… kind of very sweet actually.”

“Okay, so, go out with him. If you don’t like him, don’t see him again.”

A knock sounded at the door and she heard Newton’s paws scrabbling in the hardwood. “I have to go, he’s here.”

“Have fun!”

Something nervous fluttered in her stomach as she made her way towards the door, Anthony’s outline visible through the glass. She took a deep breath before she opened it, and there he was.

He was wearing a soft sweater and his hair was parted a little less severely, still back from his forehead and a smile lit his face when he saw her, a bouquet of flowers held in his hands. “Hey.”

“Hi,” She nodded, her heart still fluttering in her chest. “Look at that, your smile’s just as cute out of the tux.”

Anthony flushed, ducking his head, “You’re so beautiful. I got you these.”

She took the flowers from him and her fingertips brushed his and she felt something. “Thanks, they’re beautiful.”

Anthony cleared his throat, “And this must be Newton.” He bent and scratched Newton’s ear who was wagging his tail, happy to have met a new friend.

“This is Newton, he’s ready to come out with us.”

Anthony grinned, “Great, should we go?” He held out his hand and Kate took it, snatching up Newton’s leash.

“Yeah let’s go.”

“So…” Kate said as she sat in the passenger seat of his Range Rover, Newton in the backseat. “Where exactly are we going?”

Anthony shrugged, “You’ll see.”

“You’re very mysterious.”

“A man of many surprises , I agree.” Anthony grinned, “You should see me in my kit shorts.”

“Because…” Kate trailed off, “Your legs are very surprising?”

“No, I’m just… really hot in shorts.”

Kate laughed, and she realised how much she liked it, how easy it was to laugh with him, even when she knew nothing about him, “I… might have googled you: And I agree.”

The car rolled to a stop and Anthony smiled, clapping his hands, “We’re here!”

Kate stared at the fence in a concrete wall. “Where’s here?”

Anthony sighed, “Okay, so I know you kind if spend your whole life on display, I do too but I’ve literally never seen people react the way they do when they see you, that’s insane. So I thought let’s go somewhere where we don’t have to worry about being seen.”

He took out a key from his pocket and opened the boot while Kate helped Newton down. “And… what are we…? Doing?”

Anthony reappeared with a wicker basket and a picnic blanket. “We’re having a picnic. My aunt lives in one of these houses, they have a private garden and I… sweet talked her into giving me the key for today with my very romantic notion.”

Kate’s heart hammered in her chest and that lump in her throat was back as she stared at him, Newton straining for the Frisbee Anthony had in his hand.

Anthony’s face fell, “Sorry, is this…? Is this stupid? Do you want to just go to dinner instead?” He was panicking, Kate could tell, “I… my brother’s a chef, he could get us a table at his restaurant for lunch. I’m sorry, this was-”

Kate stepped forward and she let her hand wrap around the front of his sweater, tugging him forward until their lips met. It was chaste, maybe the most chaste kiss she’d ever shared with anyone but she felt it. From the flutter in her stomach right down to her toes.

Anthony looked a little dazed when she pulled back, his lips still puckered as he swayed, “I think you’re supposed to wait until after the date to do that.”

“Am I?”

“Yeah, I loiter on your porch and try not to make it obvious that I’ve wanted to kiss you from the moment we met.”

Kate clicked her tongue, “Sorry I ruined the moment.”

“We can do it again then.” Anthony bent handing the frisbee out to Newton. “Now, let’s go have this date.”

She knew he’d been joking, about her falling in love with him on their first date. She knew that. But it sure felt like falling in love sat on a picnic blanket in a private garden with Newton sprinting after a frisbee and his arm around her waist. And when she sat down at the piano that night the words came to her so easily.

With the sun in your hair and the dreams of a boy in your eyes

I wasn’t sure I’d ever felt so free

Sat on a picnic blanket with you, your hand holding mine

Anthony

Anthony is the first single off the album she releases the next year, it’s the only song she’s ever confirmed is written about anyone specifically and it’s Anthony’s favourite song.

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It takes a mob pt. 9

First

Prev

Ao3

“So what color flowers do you think Marv would like to be buried with?”

Bill glanced to Ken as the kid made a loud squeal from his place on the counter.  The diaper incident was still fresh in mind but for the moment the kid looked content to stay solid.

Ken played with Danny’s legs before continuing his musings,

“We could go traditional roses, but carnations might have a better meaning and shit.”

“I don’t know shit ‘bout flowers.” Bill grunted as he dumped a large mixing bowl of dough on to the table. “But I want his ass cremated, going to put him in an hourglass. Maybe he’ll finally will learn time and place.”

Me-Mah tutted as she measured and cut the portions.

“That child was never one to think things through.”

“It kept Danny out of the limelight, didn’t it?”

Me-mah snorted as she glanced over,

“But, at what cost boy?”

“A hell of an ass whoopin for the most part.”

A voice chimed in, and Bill felt some color leech from his face.

“Ayyyye, didn’t know you were scheduled to hop in Jay! What are you doin’ on this side of the front?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Ken take a sudden dive to the floor with a loud thump.

Everyone paused for a second to look at the space the man once inhabited.

“…you good there Ken?”

Ken let out a wheeze as his head popped back into view.

“..Just some fractured dignity.”

“Riiight.. So, I heard you guys had quite a busy weekend, mind catching me up?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it busy per se, but you know how- hey hey! Why don’t you not come over! you know what I’ll come over to you!”

Scrambling past the table tops Bill steered Jason back out the door onto the streets.

“You know I was actually going to ask Me-mah about a possible change in meal prep for next week, right?”

“And I can make sure she’s up to date and everything! No need for the higher ups to need to hand around you got your own projects to worry about!”

“Like the project you three have decided to take?”

“..I have no idea what you are talking about boss.”

Bill stumbled as Jason finally dug his heel as they came close to an alleyway opening.

“Now we can do this the easy way of the hard way Bill, and my night’s been headache inducing enough.”

With a gritted teeth, Bill trudged into the ally with little fanfare.

“So,”

Jason started through a puff of a cigarette,

“I would like to preface this talk with the fact that Marv will be fine. Some bruising and a concussion to match but no lasting damage as far as the doc is concerned.”

“Oh. That’s, good.”

“You don’t sound so sure of that.”

“No! It’s- it’s great that Marv is good an’ all but, this is the boss we’re talking about! That ain’t his usual M.O.”

Bill took off his hat and rubbed at his temple,

“I mean, I’ve seen the dude do a lot more for way less. No scarring? No disfigurement? Not even a broken nose??”

“And it was anyone else than it would’ve been so, but it’s Marv we’re talking about. The dumbass is the equivalent of a pittie in a sweater. Besides-“

Jay made a show of flicking the used bud into a puddle before shifting to face Bill and leaning a hip against the grimy wall.

“He had his gun in his holster, if he was trying shit, he would’ve went with that instead of a steel chair.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Home couldn’t come into view quick enough.

Unlocking the door, Bill dumped the bag in his arm before he made a b-line to the kitchen.

The kid had a set of lungs and was making it quite clear that he did not appreciate being hungry.

“It’s okay kid, let it out, good for the soul and all that.”

Bill started to bounce as the microwave warmed the key to his ears’ bliss. His mind couldn’t help but go back to his conversation with Jay in between Danny’s gasps of air.

“What’s the plan? Fling the kid from person to person? Playhouse until gets annoying and pass the kid around like a hot potato? I don’t think there’s a single person who went through foster that wouldn’t be able to tell you how that would work out.”

Gently, Bill removed the tot from his imprisonment before quickly scooping up the bottle and testing the heat on his wrist.

“Do you even know the first thing about babies? How to test their bottles temp and clean them? How about burping? What about Immunizations?  Or are you flying by your coat tails? They need commitment!”

It didn’t take as second for Danny to latch on with a content hum.

The quiet bliss could’ve been heroin as far as Bill was concerned.

Making his way back to the fallen bags, he got a glance at the small library that had made its home on his floor.

“What the hell have I gotten myself into?”

He could do this, he got his GED last year, so Bill was used to studying. He just had a bit of a time crunch to catch up is all.

“I don’t know shit about kids..”

One of the first things Jay did as soon as they properly introduced him to Danny was drag both of them to Dr. Leslie for an evaluation.

Bill’s original estimate was quite off.

The kid was about four months old.

Reaching over for a dirty towel, Bill shifted Danny to his shoulder and gave him some pats.

He wasn’t above admitting that a lot of what he was told went over his head, but a relative bill of good health was good news as any.

He couldn’t help but let out a huff of laughter when he noticed the kid’s face.

“What? What’s with dat look? Am I really doing this wrong Al-“

The sound that came out of the kid had no right being that grotesque.

Danny face smoothed as Bill looked down in mild horror as he felt new weight on the back of the onesie.

“..that wasn’t a fart, was it?”

The beginning of another spell of crying kicked the henchmen into gear.

“Right! Bath! Shit, don’t got one those bath thingies- uuhhh… right! Sink time Dano.”

Slinging the bag onto his shoulder, Bill went back to the kitchen and turned on the faucet sending a silent thank you to the two idiots who finally went home.

There was a bit of hesitation before he snapped the kid’s buttons off.

“Babies are messy Bill; they piss and shit and throw up to hell and back because it’s the only thing they can really do. If you can’t handle that then you have no right-“

With a quick shake of his hand, Bill made quick work of the kid’s clothes and diaper before turning his head to the side letting out a small gag.

He’s handled men’s entrails falling out of their bodies better than this.

Checking the temperature, Bill held Danny so that his back was to the faucet and started to splashing handfuls onto the mess.

“I know I know, not the most conventual cleaning but we’re going to have to sort that out tomorrow.”

Steeling his nerves, Bill fished out the baby soap from the bag and got to work.

“The things I do for yah…”

One freshly scrubbed Danny looked up with a giggle as Bill meticulously worked to keep the soup from his eyes.

A new problem emerged as the impromptu bath was over. There wasn’t a clean towel nearby much to Bill’s dismay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sudden clearing of his work schedule via text made Bill pause before he tossed his phone within reach.

Letting out a huff he placed Danny onto the makeshift changing table.

“‘You need an adjustment period’ and ‘Can’t have you working in the high risk now and blah blah-‘ The bosses are acting like I’m some transplant now because of you.”

His complaints were unanswered by his audience though a small squeal of laughter did tug a smile onto his face as he plopped the kid’s rump back onto the clean diaper.

“Yeah.. yeah, yuck it up. Just so you know, this is a once in a lifetime thing goin’ on, so don’t expect me to pull a Wayne an’ bring you back any siblings.”

Dawn was breaking as close is ever did in the city.  The early commuters were starting their day and he bit back a yawn as he continued his work.

The two of them didn’t get to go back home until well past three. Both Jason and Dr. Leslie felt it consequential to give Bill a crash course in baby 101 and enough homework to reach his gills to boot.

Something that he was beginning to notice is that plans tend to not hold up when dealing with children.

Sure, Bill hasn’t got much range in experience with kids, but what plans he has made around Danny got shot through like a diamond store on a Saturday.

He planned to never have kids, and now that had one to take care of, he just planned to keep him clean and worry about everything else tomorrow but-

“Shit!”

Waving away the sudden cloud in his Face with a cough, Bill looked down at the scene in dismay.

What was once a perfectly clean skin was now powdered white up to a confused little chin.

“Come one Kid, up, up-“

Bill gently pulled them to a sitting position by the arms with snicker.

“We got the rest of our lives together kid.”

He started to try brush down the excess with a towel as he continued,

“Yeah, this ain’t goin’ to be easy, but hey, I’m in your corner for better or for worst.”

Scooping and wrapping up Danny in a bundle Bill took another glance around his apartment and tried not to grimace.

The kitchen window was patched over with some newspaper and tape and the carpet still had some questionable stains from the past.

As much as it sucked to admit, Bill knew his time here was limited.

A one-bedroom apartment was not good enough for a kid to grow up in.

The feeling a small hand brought him out of his musings.

“Bab bah.”

“You know that's very cute, but I just swaddled you for a reason. Phase you hand back under your blanket.”

With a gently poke Danny was once again fully engulfed.

“I’m going to have gray hairs by the time you learn to crawl, I can just feel it.”

That was another day’s concern, as for today.

“I think it’s time we go lay down for a bit. How’s that sound?”

With a small yawn from his companion, Bill eased into the couch and turned on the tv low with a sense of déjà vu.

‘If dad could see him now…’

And as he started to lose the battle with sleep a passing thought made him let out a small huff.

Maybe he’d give his old man a call, it’s not every day the family expands after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

This has been an adventure. I started my tumblr page as a place to throw away my prompts so that someone else could get inspired and my brain wouldn’t hold onto them. I didn’t actually expect to not only use but finish one!

For all of you guys who’ve been following along on both tumblr and ao3, thank you.

Here’s to more stories to come!

[lindsey-laufeyson]

Distractions- Chapter 6

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

When you got up the next morning practically your whole body was sore. Tom was sleeping soundly, so you did your best to muffle your groans as you got ready for work. Every little movement you made hurt. You could tell it was going to be a long day.

At work, you attempted to hide how sore you were, but it didn’t take long for Kaitlyn to notice, at which point you told her you’d gone to the gym for the first time in ages. 

Once Tom arrived, he also clearly noticed you were in pain, but didn’t say anything about it until he texted you shortly after leaving your trailer. 

...

“Hello, darling,” Tom greeted you that evening at his house, pulling you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his waist and groaned against his chest, causing him to chuckle.

“It’s not funny,” you grumbled into his sweater.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, despite the hint of amusement still in his voice. He gently rubbed your back. “Though, I do hope you aren’t regretting our fun last night.”

You pulled back to look up at him. “How about I let you know after that bath you promised.”

“Fair enough,” he replied, chuckling again. He took your hand in his. “Come on then,” and he led you to his ensuite. 

It felt a bit odd, being at Tom’s without the intention of sex, but he insisted, and given how exhausted and sore you were, you weren’t going to say no to a hot man offering a hot bath. 

You entered the bathroom to find a steaming hot bubble bath prepared in the large clawfoot tub with several candles creating a soft glow in the room. This man is definitely hoping to get laid tonight, you thought, smiling and shaking your head. Tom didn’t notice, as he was adding more epsom salts to the water. Then he turned back to you.

“I hope the water is a good temp for you,” he said, placing his hands on your arms and softly rubbing his thumbs back and forth. “There is a towel next to the tub and a robe hanging on the back of the door. Take as long as you like, and let me know if you need anything else, okay?” You couldn’t help the puzzled look that crossed your face. “What?” he asked.

“You aren’t going to stay?” you asked, surprised.

“I thought maybe you’d like some peace and quiet to just relax, but I can stay if you like.”

You shrugged and smiled. “I wouldn’t mind the company.”

“Then I’d be happy to stay,” he responded sweetly, before grabbing a small stool from the corner of the room and pulling it up next to the tub to sit. As he did this, you began to undress. After taking off your shirt, you began to feel his eyes on you, despite the fact that you were facing the other way. You turned around as you removed your bra, and sure enough, you caught Tom’s gaze before he quickly looked down at the floor, unable to hide a slight smirk. 

“You’re allowed to look, you know,” you told him, giggling a little. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me naked before.”

He looked back up at you and smirked, his eyes wandering to your bare breasts. You’d be lying if you said it wasn’t turning you on: him sitting there, watching you strip. The moment was quickly ruined however, when you couldn’t help but groan in pain as you bent over to remove your leggings, putting a strain on your aching legs, hips, and back. 

Tom’s smile faded. “Let me help you with that, sweetheart.” He rushed over to you and knelt in front of you, pulling your leggings and panties down so you could easily step out of them. Then he stood up, took you by the hand, and helped you into the tub. 

You thanked him before slowly sinking down into the tub. You couldn’t help but moan as your body was engulfed in the hot, soothing water. “Ooooh god, yes.” Once you sat down, you stretched your legs out in front of you and leaned back, resting your head on the bath pillow behind you and closing your eyes. 

Tom snickered as he sat back down on the stool, leaning an elbow on the edge of the tub. “I take it the bath is satisfactory then.” 

With your eyes still closed, you responded with a hum of contentment. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to leave you alone?” he asked with a chuckle.

You lazily shook your head. “Mm-mm.” You heard Tom chuckle again, as well as the stool dragging across the tile until the sound stopped just behind you. Then you felt his large hands slip behind your neck, beginning to massage the sore muscles there. “Fuuuuck, that feels good.” 

“If you keep moaning like that, we’re going to have a problem,” Tom teased you.

You giggled as you briefly peaked up at him with one eye opened. “Sorry!”

“Are you though?” he asked skeptically.

“Mostly,” you replied honestly, making him laugh.

After Tom skillfully massaged your neck and shoulders, ushering a few more accidental moans from you in the process, you slowly opened your eyes to look hazily up at him. “Has anyone told you that your fingers are magic?”

“I believe you have once before, but it was for a different reason,” he joked.

“Ha. Ha,” you responded sarcastically, lifting your head as you watched him return to his previous spot next to the tub. “But seriously, would you be willing to do my legs too? Pretty please?” You exaggeratedly batted your eyelashes for the last bit.

“I would be more than willing to, but it would require either you to get out of the bath or me to get in with you.”

“The more the merrier,” you said, gesturing to the water in front of you and flashing him a smile.

He feigned a sigh, as if you’d just assigned him a chore, then stood up and began taking off his clothes. You watched him just as he had watched you, and when he removed his boxer briefs, his dick bounced straight up. You tried and failed to bite back a smirk. 

“Well, what do you expect when I have a naked woman moaning in my bathtub?” he said as he climbed into the tub. He settled in so that the two of you were facing one another and sitting between each other’s feet, your legs over his. If you had moved closer, you’d be straddling him, but you knew your body wouldn’t allow it today. 

Once he was comfortable, he took your foot in his hands and started kneading his thumbs into the sole. You sighed heavily as you sank further into the water. “So, have you had many naked women moaning in your bathtub?” you teased.

He looked up from what he was doing, while his hands continued their work on the ball of your foot. “You would be the first,” he told you.

You raised your eyebrows out of genuine surprise. “Really?”

“I’m not sure why you’re so shocked,” he said with an amused smile.

You looked at him skeptically. “How am I, out of all people, the first woman to be in your bath?”

“Because you needed it,” he answered as if it was a silly question. “You were in pain, darling.” 

“You mean it’s not a ploy for sex?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow and narrowing your gaze.

“Why on earth would it be? You’re in no shape for sex tonight; you said it yourself. I’m only trying to take care of you.”

You thought about what he said for a moment, as you watched him finish massaging one foot and moving on to the other. Then your expression turned quizzical, tilting your head and furrowing your brow. “Was it difficult?”

“Was what difficult?” he asked, confused.

“Escaping from whatever romance novel you came from?”

He laughed as he looked up at you. “Is that a pick up line, or an insult?” 

“It’s a genuine question!”

Pausing for a moment, his smile faded in realization. “You’re not accustomed to someone taking care of you just for the sake of it, are you?”

This caught you off guard. “I guess I just prefer to take care of myself most of the time.”

“Why is that?” he asked thoughtfully.

You shrugged. “Because I know what I need more than anyone else and that way I don’t owe anyone anything.”

He stopped massaging your foot and looked at you with pity in his eyes. “Oh, sweet girl,” he began in a soft, kind tone. “Please don’t tell me you believe that just because someone does something for you that you owe them something in return.”

You returned his sympathetic gaze with one of skepticism. “Tommy, I know you’re a romanticist, but that’s just how the real world works. Everything is a transaction, whether it’s intended or not.”

“No, darling, you’ve just been taken care of by the wrong sort of people,” he retorted. 

“Okay, you’re not wrong there,” you admitted, thinking back to your parents, as well as your past relationships. “Are you implying that you’re the right sort of person?”

He gave you a warm smile as he picked up your leg again and placed your heel on his shoulder so that he could begin massaging your calf muscles. “I’d like to think so, but you actually have to trust me and let go of this idea that I have some ulterior motive.”

“I’ll try my best.” You smiled back at him before leaning your head back on the bath pillow and enjoying the rest of your massage.

As Tom’s hands made their way up your legs, he inched closer to you in order to reach every inch of your thigh muscles. With one leg draped over his shoulder, the other resting by his hip, and his dexterous digits slowly making their way up your thigh, it was becoming increasingly difficult to try to ignore the erotic charge between your bodies. Doing your best to keep your eyes closed and your body relaxed, you silently wished your pussy wasn’t still aching from the night before. You couldn’t help but picture him slipping a finger inside of you, stroking you, teasing you, until you begged for more…

“Everything alright, darling?” Tom’s voice pulled you from your thoughts.

You lifted your head and looked at him, a dazed look on your face. “Hmm?” was all you managed in response.

“You’re suddenly breathing fairly hard for someone who is supposed to be relaxing.”

“Oh? I, um, didn’t realize,” you replied, flustered. “I think I’m just hot… from the bath, that is.”

He inhaled deeply, as if catching his own breath as well. “It is rather hot, isn’t it,” he agreed, gently taking your leg off his shoulder and backing up to the other end of the tub again. “Why don’t we get out and I’ll go get us some ice water and meet you down in the lounge.” He stood up and stepped out of the tub. Your eyes immediately snapped to his still very erect penis, but you pulled them away, not wanting to get any more aroused than you already were. Then he held out his hand to help you climb out as well. You smiled warmly at each other as you took his hand and stepped out. His smile quickly turned to a look of concern, however, when his gaze dropped to your hips. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking down and turning around in an attempt to see what he was looking at.

“The bruises on your hips!” 

You leaned to one side and craned your neck to examine yourself. Sure enough, you could see a few very small bruises on either side of your hips. “Oh, I bruise so easily that half the time I don’t even know where they come from,” you told him nonchalantly.

“Unfortunately, I believe these one’s came from me,” he said, looking sincerely apologetic. 

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean?”

He moved to stand behind you, gently placing his palms on your hips and then eversolightly placed each of his fingertips, one by one, on each little bruise, matching them up perfectly.

“Oh shit,” you breathed.

Tom removed his hand from your hips and moved to stand in front of you once more. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. I never meant to–” he began, but he was quickly cut off by your laughter.

“That is so fucking sexy,” you said through your giggles.

He looked at you, bewildered. “Are you joking?” 

“Of course not!” You looked down, admiring your bruises like little badges of honor. “It’s a nice little visual reminder of just how hard you fucked me last night.” Your eyes returned to him as your lips curled into a smirk. “It’s also as if you’ve marked your territory, which is incredibly hot.”

He laughed. “You make me sound like a dog! Would you like me to pee on you as well?”

“Ew! Don’t be gross,Thomas!” you scolded him through your giggles, giving him a light shove.

He put his hands up in defense. “I’m not one to kink shame.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “My point is, there’s no need to fuss over a few love bruises, alright?”

“If you say so,” he replied with a smile and a nod, placing his hands on your upper arms. “Now, I’m going to get us those waters while you get dressed.” 

“I’ll be right down,” you assured him. 

He blew out the candles and left, leaving you to dry yourself off and grab your clothes before making your way into his bedroom. After putting your clothes in your bag, you considered wearing the bathrobe he had hung on the bathroom door, but, feeling a bit cheeky, you decided you’d be much more comfortable in his clothes. After briefly perusing his wardrobe, you decided to slip on his black pullover hoodie and a pair of his boxers, before heading to the lounge. 

Once there, you found Tom on the sofa in a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants, searching for something to watch. His long legs were bent at the knee and spread wide, a position that drove you wild, and unfortunately, one he seemed to absentmindedly favor. As you stepped down to the sunken lounge and sauntered toward the sofa, you noticed his gaze climb up your bare legs and pause at the large hoodie, before meeting your eyes with a look of playful disapproval. 

“You know, for a woman who finds it so cliché, you are quite the clothing thief,” he teased you. 

“I am not a thief!” you defended as you flopped down next to him, tucking your legs underneath you.

He raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Tell that to my favorite jumper that I haven’t seen in two weeks.”

“It’s washed and folded on top of my dresser as we speak… I just keep forgetting to give it back to you,” you added timidly.

“Mmhmm.” He smiled and shook his head.

“And I promise I’ll give these back before I leave.”

His brows raised in confusion. “Are you wearing something else of mine underneath there?”

“Just a pair of boxers,” you replied coyly, looking down and then back up through your lashes. “Is that okay?” 

There was a flash of excitement in his eyes. He swallowed hard. “More than okay, darling,” he told you sweetly, clearing his throat and quickly turning his attention to the television. A smirk played at the corner of your mouth. Even though you chose to wear his boxers purely for the sake of comfort, you couldn’t help but enjoy the resulting reaction from him, and the fact that he was trying to be good and hide it was surprisingly sexy. You made a note to use this new found turn-on of his to your advantage at a later date. For now however, you were content to simply sink further into the fine leather cushions beneath you and relax your exhausted body.

After some debate, the two of you settled on watching The Jungle Book, a comfort film for you as well as one of Tom’s all-time childhood favorites. As soon as the title credits appeared, you were flooded with a warm wave of nostalgia, causing the rest of your tension to melt away, your body subconsciously leaning closer to Tom’s. 

Scene after scene, each of you would occasionally speak the lines just as the characters said them, Tom perfectly imitating their respective voices with ease, and when the first notes of “The Bare Necessities” played on the screen, you both sang along with unmatched enthusiasm, bursting into a shared fit of laughter at the end of the song. Three quarters of the way into the movie however, your eyelids began to feel heavy, the exhaustion from your long day catching up to you. Despite your best efforts to fight it, eventually your temple took its perch on Tom’s shoulder, your eyes falling shut and the sound of the film fading as sleep overtook you.

…

By the time you opened your eyes again, the television screen was dark and you realized you were no longer sitting up. With a throw blanket now covering your legs, you and Tom were lying on the couch together, your head on his chest with your arm around his waist, his hand resting gently on your shoulder. You realized how exhausted you must have been having not recalled this change in position whatsoever. Tilting your chin, you looked up at Tom, looking peaceful as ever, the hand that wasn’t on you was resting above his head on the arm of the sofa, accentuating his bicep which stretched the short sleeve of his t-shirt. His long eyelashes fluttered slightly above his sharp cheekbones while he snored softly, making you wonder if he was dreaming. You smiled to yourself. He was pretty fucking adorable for a fuck-buddy, though you would never admit that to him.

Yawning, you realized you had no idea what time it was. Carefully you dug your phone out of the front pocket of the hoodie you were wearing to look at the time. It was just past midnight. Reluctantly, you sat up and carefully climbed over Tom to get up from the sofa. You thought you might have woken him when you heard him inhale deeply, but he merely shifted to lay on his side, letting out a long exhale once he was comfortable. Thankful that you didn’t wake him, you quietly padded to his bedroom where you changed back into your own clothes and laid his sweatshirt and boxers on his bed. With your bag in hand, you returned to the lounge and knelt next to the sectional on which he was still sleeping. 

“Hey,” you whispered, gently placing your hand on his cheek and rubbing your thumb back and forth. Without opening his eyes, he gave an almost inaudible hum. “I’m gonna head home.” 

His eyes fluttered open, looking dazed before he rubbed one of them with the heel of his hand. “What time is it?” he asked in a gruff voice. 

“It’s after midnight,” you answered, still whispering. “You should go to bed, Tommy boy.”

He yawned before looking at you with his brows knitted together in concern. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” 

You slid your hand from his cheek down to his chest and shook your head. “I think we could both use some sleep in our own respective beds, but thank you for taking care of me tonight. It was very sweet.”

“Of course, darling,” he slurred as his large hand encased your own and his eyes fell shut once again, immediately falling back to sleep. You stifled a giggle and carefully slid your hand out from under his, pulled the blanket up to his shoulders, and quietly left.

Taglist: @the-princess-of-loki @chronicallybubbly @kikster606 @princess-ofthe-pages