#mr skinny legs

[bed-wed-behead-your-fave]

Mr Skinnylegs from Peppa Pig

[felixboothbay]

First post igs 🤷‍♂️ (outdated)

[femalewarrior222]

Batgirl Should've Been the Naked Superhero in SubZero

If she was only wearing her mask, her cape and her utility belt. Nothing else.

[i90o3]

haii ><,, i read your pampering fic w mr crawling and i js. UGH. IM SO IN LOVEEEE 😭😭 do u do nsfw drabbles/fics 🤔 i read in ur rules you DO allow nsfw so,, could i request something nsfw abt a first time with him ><??

First Time.

context: First time with your pookie wookie bookie puppy bear.

Homicipher. mr crawling x reader. | Anypov…(?). NSFW | tw: ectoplasm c*m

Nsfw isn’t my strong suit but I have fun challenging myself, I do hope you enjoy this!

first time? ..confusing. And complicated. And clumsy. But oh.. does it feel so good.

It’s definitely a lot of build up over a couple months, like first soft pecks, then making out, slow and clumsy touches.

You have to guide his hands yourself until he gets the hang of it, but I think he’s a pretty quick learner. He’s def good with his hands (I actually think he says that in the game at some point) and his tongue.. (😜)

I’d say your on your bed making out, straddling his lap, your tongues in a heated battle with each other while his hand roams your body and his other hand is gently cupping your face. You’re starting to subtly grind against him, and he makes a chirping noise.

You can feel his erection against your thigh, and when you pull back to look at him, he’s smiling widely at you. He grabs you by the shoulders and switches your positions, pushing you down against the mattress while he hovers over you. He’s whining and chirping, rutting against your leg and wrapping his big arms around you, burying his face in to your chest. He’s so whiny and desperate for you, clawing at your clothes to try and get them off.

I saw someone say he’d be on the smaller side, but yall see how fucking tall that man is?? I def think he’s atleast 6 or 7 inches ..skinny, veiny, with a slight curve.

He’s chirping and making all sorts of noises when he finally sinks in to your wet heat, rutting so sloppily and clumsily. You jolt from how cold it is compared to your hot gummy walls, making you shiver. He has no idea really what he’s doing, but it just feels so good he can’t stop, can’t help himself. How you clench around him, how good it feels, its driving him insane. Burying his face in to your neck and wrapping his arms around you so tightly.

You can tell he’s getting close because he’s getting more vocal and his thrusts are getting even more sloppier (somehow), and you’re clawing at his back, whimpering and mewling. Your walls clench around him, milking his purple-tipped cock, cumming with a sharp cry. His hips stutter as you ride out your high, and he slips out of you, shooting his load on your tummy, rubbing his grey ectoplasm cum all over your soft skin, giggling maniacally.

After you clean yourselves up, you snuggle up to him, pulling the covers up around you both as he pats your head and you drift off to sleep on his arms.

11/11/2024. 9:38 am. @i90o3

[heart-of-the-party]

i want to be this crossbody bag so bad

[milla-frenchy]

Her

3k2 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | masterlist

Summary: after Joel confides one of his fantasies to you one day, you make it come true

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Established relationship, feelings, teasing, strap on/dildo, use of gags and ties, sub!joel, soft!joel, masturbation (f), oral (f/m), praise kink, piv, creampie

a/n: same couple: 5 days collection, but can be read alone

The next fic in this collection will probably be about how they met, fell in love and became that couple 

Thank you @aurorawritestoescape for beta-ing 💕😘

Joel grabbed your hand when you passed by him, then hugged you. His hand roamed the curve of your back while the other was brushing your neck, holding you softly against him. You loved when he held you close, you loved feeling his chest against yours, the warmth of his skin, his softness. He breathed in your hair then your neck, before kissing you there, just below your ear. His mustache and beard brushing your skin already made you moan. You were so deeply in love with him that his mere proximity always overwhelmed you. You felt yourself melt in his embrace and you ran your fingers along his brown curls then the back of his neck, keeping him close against you. 

Then he slid his hands to your hips and gently pushed you on the dining room table, as he whispered in your ear: “Lie down on the table, sweetheart. Wanna feel you on my tongue.” The atmosphere changed, as sweetness gave way to desire, already drawing a whimper from you.

But you forced yourself to move away from him and pressed on his shoulder to make him sit down on a chair.

“You and your filthy mouth…”, you said, looking from his eyes to his lips. Your pussy was aching more since you felt his hardness against you. You did your best, trying to ignore the muffled moans of your core, which was crying for his tongue on you.

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about me and my filthy mouth, baby?”

You didn't answer, you needed to keep a cool head and not let your desire make you forget what you had in mind. And you wanted to play with him. Tease him. You walked around the chair and kissed his neck, sliding your hand from his torso to his crotch.

“Already hard, Mr Miller?”

“Well…I’ve been seeing that damn ass spinning in front of my face for 5 minutes… Course I’m hard, sweetheart.” He manspread to allow you to seize his hard cock more easily, but you pulled back, kneeling behind him. You grabbed his hands and crossed his wrists against the back of the chair. Then you took two skinny scarfs out of your pocket and used one to tie his hands together. He let you do it. You both knew your boundaries and body language perfectly, so you were sure he was ok with it. 

“Mmmm… What are you doing?”

“You’re gonna be a good boy, baby, and let me use you.”

“A good boy? Really?”

“Yeah”, you smirked. “A good, silent boy.”

You used the other scarf to cover his mouth, tying it at the back of his head. You brushed his shoulder as you came back in front of him.

“And I’m gonna play with you.”

His gaze became piercing, and you smiled when you saw his cock twitch in his jeans. 

You pulled up a chair and sat across from him, legs crossed. Sliding your calf against your bent knee. Your short skirt was hiked up to your thighs, and Joel's eyebrows were furrowed, creating several lines on his forehead.

“It makes me so horny to see you like this. Powerless. Tied and gagged. You have no idea.”

You heard him growl and you liked it, as it awakened something deep within you. So far, Joel was always in charge. Even when you rode him, when you used him, you felt power in his touch and in his eyes. And you loved it. But something else was growing in you this evening, and you were already enjoying this novelty. 

You uncrossed your legs and spread them wide, allowing Joel to see your panties. He leaned forward slightly, instinctively. Restrained by the bonds, he shook his head slowly. And god you liked it too.

“Wanna see how wet I am, Joel?” you asked, grabbing the hem of your skirt and lifting your ass slightly off the chair, before pulling it up to your waist. Your fingers brushed your thighs from your knees to the hem of your panties. You pulled them aside and asked “do you see me dripping?”

He swallowed and nodded. His eyes were fixed on you, and you read him like an open book. Part of him wanted more than anything to take back control. The other part was willing to let you manage and see how far you would go.

You also saw his love and desire for you, and it encouraged you to continue and not let certain insecurities or shyness make you doubt yourself.

“Perfect,” you added, before running a finger along your soaked pussy. “I bet you’d like to taste your pussy? Don't you?"

He tried to speak but his words were muffled by the scarf. You knew that if you released him then he would rush to you and press your chest against the table before thrusting into you roughly. But you had to wait for that, too. He would fulfill your desire a little later.

“I’m gonna have to do it myself, since you can’t”, you continued, before sucking your wet finger. Another growl came from the depth of his chest, a little more painful this time. You knew how much he loved to lap at your cunt. Often pulling multiple orgasms out of you, breathing a “one more, sweetheart. Give me one more, I know you can do that for me”, between your thighs until your limbs felt like a rag doll and you had to beg him to stop. 

“Mmmm… I understand why you like her so much, baby. Too bad you can’t taste her. Or fuck her. She'd love that. But she's gonna have to wait, just like you.”

You brushed your folds again, spreading the garment wide with your other hand. Adding more wetness to your index finger, before rubbing your clit.

“I guess I’m gonna have to make myself come, baby…”

His eyes turned black and you focused on your sensations. Touching yourself in front of him was turning you on and your pussy was dripping through your folds.

“It’s so good, baby…I’m gonna come soon. Or maybe I could play a little with a dildo? Let you watch me fuck myself on it. While your cock is just begging me to take its place.”

He mumbled something that sounded like "sweetheart" but you didn’t stop. A few more caresses were enough to make you cum, your thighs wide apart in front of him, making you close your eyes for a few seconds under the effect of your pleasure.

“Didn’t even have time to play with a sex toy…”

You pulled your panties back into place and stood up, running your finger under his nose, tormenting him with a scent that he inhaled immediately.

“You’d love to lick my finger, wouldn’t you? Feel my taste on your tongue? But not this time.”

You ran your hand through his curls, before adding, “you’re so obedient, baby…I’m proud of you.” Joel rolled his eyes and you added “I know, I know, you don’t really have a choice. Let's free that cock, baby. It must be so cramped.”

You knelt down and grabbed his worn jeans, sliding them down his thighs as he helped you by lifting his ass. The tent under his boxers made you smile. A wet stain was visible on the fabric. You slid them down and his cock stood up proudly. His tip was red and oozing.

“Oh poor baby”, you breathed. You took off the garment. His head was lowered towards his crotch, and he looked up from his cock to your eyes. Imploring.

Your thumb brushed against his slit, spreading the precum over it. The tip of your tongue licked it and his cock twitched.

“Show me that you want me to suck your cock,” you asked. Teasing him. But there wasn’t any darkness in his eyes anymore. He nodded quickly, craning his pelvis forward.

You took him into your mouth, moving up and down his shaft. Rounding your lips, and slowly progressing to accustom your mouth then your throat to his thickness. Joel’s restrained moans were sweet music to your ears. When you pulled back and licked the length of his shaft, then his balls one by one, his moans became grunts. You stopped and looked at him.

“You love it? You love how I suck your cock, baby? How I can take all of it into my mouth and throat?”

He moaned, letting you know he wanted more.

“I know, baby. But I need you to do something for me. I’ll be back in a few minutes, be good” you said, before kissing his cheek. He gave you a pleading look. “Be good, I said.”

When you came back and his gaze fell on you, if a scarf hadn't covered his mouth you would have seen his jaw drop. You were naked except for a strap on.

Communication has always been one of the pillars of your relationship. The discussion of your respective fantasies, “yes”, “no”, “maybe”, had been set up from the start.

“No judgment?” he once said. “Never, baby. We’re in a safe zone. No judgment, I swear”, you replied before kissing him gently. “OK. So… I think one day I would like to give up control. Ehm… Sexually. I don't know if I can really be submissive. But I’ve always had some fantasies, and you’re the one with whom I’d want to achieve them. If you agree.” “I am so grateful that you trust me, that we trust each other completely. Tell me more.” “Me too, sweetheart. I… I’d love to see you wear a strap on.” Your eyes sparkled when you heard him. “How would you want me to use it?” He took a deep breath and added, “I wish you were completely in charge. That you imposed things on me. And… made me suck a dildo.” The wave of desire that washed over your body in that moment was intense. “Fuck, Joel…Yeah… yeah! We’ll do it, I promise.”

You knew he was thinking about that conversation, as you had been thinking about it for several days, imagining how you wanted to make his fantasy come true and to make it perfect. And then you chose the day. Today.

His eyes traveled up and down your body, before remaining fixed on the strap on. He finally looked up at you. You pointed your chin at him, making sure he was still up for it. He nodded slowly, without an ounce of hesitation.

As you approached him, wearing only the harness and the dildo attached to it, you watched him devour you with his gaze. You stopped in front of him, the sextoy a few inches from his face. He looked up at you again, and a multitude of emotions were visible there. Desire, impatience, some shyness. Love. And you almost heard butterflies whispering “Joel, Joel, Joel” in your stomach.

“I’m gonna remove your gag now baby. Wanna see your lips.”

You untied the scarf, and Joel’s deep breathing filled the room as he was looking at the strap on. The model you chose was a medium size. You didn't want to impose a sextoy of a size equivalent to his cock. For now.

“You know what I’d love, baby? I’d love to see you on your knees for me, while you suck that cock. Will you do that?”

His eyes rose up at you and he nodded.

“Words, baby. You know the rules, right?”

He smirked, probably thinking how much he loved to see you act like him, and said, “yes”.

“So, you're gonna be a good boy for me, Joel? You’re gonna suck it, on your knees for me?”

“Fuck”, he breathed, looking at you. “Yeah, I’m gonna suck that cock.”

Hearing him created a new wave of desire in your core. Your Joel, this sexually perfect man, had so much confidence in you and your relationship that he was going to fulfill his fantasy with you. You untied him and he rubbed his wrists, then knelt. His hard cock was throbbing. You moved closer to him, the dildo in your hand, and presented it within reach of his mouth.

“Spit on it, baby. Make it wet.”

He let his saliva flow and watched it slide. “That’s good. Lick the tip, then place your lips around it.”

You placed your hand on his head as he did what you asked. Touching him tenderly, without rushing him. You could feel a lot of emotions, swirling inside his head, and you wanted him to feel good. Safe.

He licked it gently, taking his time to get used to this sensation that was new for him. Then he took the dildo into his mouth.

“Yeah, just like that. Suck it, baby.”

He looked up at you, and his feral gaze was back. Seeing him on his knees, sucking it while looking at you, was one of the hottest things you've ever seen. You cherished that he trusted himself, and you, to make his fantasy come true. Gifting you with it.

“Show me how good you are at sucking a cock, Joel. I’m so turned on right now, seeing you like that, baby.”

He licked the shaft, then took it in his mouth again, while you held the base in your hand. The other one, still on his head, brushing his curls.

“You like that, baby?”

He mumbled a ‘yes’, without stopping.

“Good boy. You’re doing well.”

His movements were more confident and he moaned.

“That’s it, moan for me, baby.” You were soaked, and couldn’t stop thinking about the moment when you would feel his length inside you. Filling you completely. 

Your fingers tightened on his curls.

He kept sucking, applying himself, until he realized how much you were squirming.

“Oh baby… come here. Lemme take care of you”, he said, grabbing your hips. Quickly, he untied the strap on and let it slip on the floor. Then he pulled you towards him, licking your folds. Buried his tongue between them impatiently, to finally feel you.

“Joel…” you whined.

“You’re so wet, baby. It really turned you on, mmm?”

“Yes…. but I need… I need-”

“I know baby, I know. You need to feel me. I’m gonna fuck you.” He got up and leaned you against the table, standing in front of you. Ready to fill you, his thick cock already in his hand, but the way you squeezed his shoulders made him stop. He frowned, cupped your cheek in his hand and asked “what is it, baby?”

“I need to feel your body on me”, you murmured. You were overwhelmed with the emotion of realizing his fantasy. The fact that you were the one he chose to do it. Now, feeling him in you, his body pressed against you, was all you needed. Your cheeks in his hands, he kissed you with his soft and warm lips, removed his shirt, then said “come with me, sweetheart”, his large hand gripping yours, and he led you to the bedroom. 

Lying on the bed, he positioned himself between your legs and looked into your eyes. Nestling his cock at your entrance, he thrust in slowly. You whimpered when his shaft spread your folds, your legs around his waist. He didn’t stop until his balls were pressed against your skin. 

“I need to feel you.. I need it so much.”

“I'm here, baby…I'm here.”

“Can you…stop moving, please?’

“Of course, sweetheart.”

You started moving your pelvis back and forth, fucking yourself on his cock slowly.

“Fuck, baby…”

“Joel, I…I just love you so much.”

“Sweetheart…I love you so much too. You're the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“God, I love your cock so much too” you whined, and he chuckled then kissed your forehead. You kept leading the pace around his shaft at a perfect angle, allowing you to brush your clit against his lower stomach.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Use me. Just use me as you need it. Shit, it's so hot to feel you fuck yourself on my cock like that.”

He covered you with kisses, from your lips to your cheeks to your forehead. His arms under your shoulders, you felt protected and loved. The complete trust you had in each other, the vulnerability he allowed himself to show you had made you emotional. You had reached a new stage in your relationship, and your feelings for him were stronger than ever. You focused on your building orgasm, and of course he felt it.

“Come for me, baby”, he murmured in your ear.

Your body obeyed him, clenching on his shaft multiple times and creaming his cock as both your moans were filling the bedroom. Overwhelmed by your pleasure, you barely realized that he was holding back from cumming at the same time as you. That he wanted more.

He caressed your cheek with his thumb, as you gradually regained your senses. Your gaze finally landed on his eyes fixed on you. He was smiling. His gaze was so soft that you felt yourself falling even more in love, if it was possible.

“I love how you’re looking at me right now, sweetheart”, he said softly as the corner of his lip turned into a tender smile.

You smiled shyly, and replied “it’s your turn, baby. Use me, take what you need.”

He kissed your lips and started to thrust in.

“I’m gonna fuck you slowly. Wanna feel your folds spreading for me. You’re so good for me, baby. Always so good for my cock. Always so fucking tight.”

He kept caressing your cheeks, thrusting in slowly before pulling back, keeping the same pace over and over, knowing that you needed him gently.

“Thank you for what you did for me. It was perfect. You’re perfect”, he whispered, offering you one of those moments of unity that you loved so much. Those moments when you were one, physically and mentally. As if you were the only two people in the world.

You caressed his cheek too, and asked softly “you liked it? Is it what you wished for?”

“I loved it. I couldn't have dreamed it to be better.”

His hips continued to roll and you didn’t take your eyes off him.

“I’m yours, sweetheart. You know that, right? From the beginning, from the first day perhaps, I was yours.”

“Jesus Joel.. I know, baby, I know. Oh… it's so good to feel you in me like that.”

“And that sweet little cunt… is mine. She’s mine. Oh fuck, babe… I’m gonna… I’m gonna come.”

You held him close to you, and whispered in his ear “she’s yours. And I’m yours. And we want to feel you dripping off us all night.”

“Fuck…sweetheart you can’t tell me things like that… Oh shit… Shit!” he said one last time, before freezing deep in your cunt, as deep as he could, and painted your walls for a moment that seemed to last forever.

You held him against you until his breathing slowed. Keeping him a little more inside you for a few minutes, feeling his cock soften. When he finally laid down next to you, you rested your head on his shoulder and your hand on his broad torso, where you were always feeling so safe. He put his arm around you and brushed your skin with his thumb.

“So... have I been a good boy?” he asked playfully. Of course he knew he had been.

“You were perfect, Joel” you replied, pinching him gently.

“Ouch,” he whined then laughed, and you giggled. God, you loved him so much. 

Same couple: 5 days collection

Thank you for reading 🙏

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@pascalsanctuary @littlemisspascal @survivingandenduring

[immortalmrwavell]

Toby’s Wish

(Original Story posted August 28th 2021) This story has been Updated!

It’d been about two months since Toby started going to the gym. He recently turned 29 and had been skinny his whole life. So he’d finally made a decision. By the time he turned 30, he wanted to have put at least a small amount of muscle on his frame. He wanted it sooo badly. Only problem was, he body didn’t seem to want it as badly as he did.

Ever since he’d started going to the gym and eating better he’d been hoping to see some change. He knew it’d take time and he didn’t expect results immediately but even after months he could hardly tell the difference. He couldn’t think what the hell he was doing wrong? Was he not being patient enough? Was his body just not that receptive to putting on muscle? Or was it his diet that wasn’t good enough? Most would say that he just needed to give it time but… he was tired of waiting. At this point the only thing that really kept Toby going to the gym was seeming all the other hot guys working out. Even if that did make him slightly jealous at the same time.

There was one guy in particular that Toby was alway eager to see. It hadn’t been hard to figure out the hunk’s name was Scott seeing as he worked at the gym as a trainer. Large and charming would probably be the two best words to describe Scott. His biceps were certainly large while those legs he showed off always looked so thick and muscular. Not to mention the juicy pair of pecs not so well hidden under the tight shirts he always wears. He also looked pretty hairy with a coating fuzz running down his muscled legs and forearms. Toby had never gotten the luxury to see Scott without his shirt on but he could tell by the few tufts of hair that would sometimes stick out of his collar that he must’ve had some glorious chest hair. And to top it all off there was that lovely well maintained beard that his face adorned. Scott was quite simply everything Toby wanted to be and the worst part was that Scott was almost the exact same age as him! It was as if the universe was taunting him.

And so one day Toby couldn’t help but find himself wishing he was Scott. Wishing that he was the one in that handsome, muscular and manly body. He deserved it right? He was working hard. He’d always tried to be a good person too! He deserved a body like Scott’s! One that was hunky and effortlessly charming. Yet little did Toby know that someone was actually listening to his little wish…

Mr Wavell floated casually nearby, cloaking his body with a veil of magic that rendered his form invisible to the eyes of mortals. He’d been observing Toby silently as he made his wish. Wavell smirked to himself as Toby’s words echoed through his mind. “I suppose it couldn’t hurt to play fairy godmother.” He chuckled to himself.

The mysterious entity pointed a finger towards Toby, shooting a small ray of magic at the small and slender looking man. Just like Wavell himself, the magic beam was invisible to the naked eye but Wavell could see the aura of magic that now surrounded Toby’s body very clearly. After that he floated across the gym, making his way towards Scott before a similar beam of magic at the hunk as well. But nothing happened just yet. As a kindness Wavell made it so that his spell would only kick in once both men were alone with nobody else to see them.

Not too long after Scott finished his final session with a client for the day before looking at the time and finding it was almost closing time. Toby had also stuck around just so he could sneak a couple extra glances at Scott while pretending he was doing something.

Scott headed into the locker room to get changed back into his normal clothes, seeing that the space was now completely desolate. Moments after, Toby of course followed. Entering into the locker room to both get changed himself and hopefully sneak another pervy glance at Scott. Perhaps finally getting the chance to see the other man shirtless. However this now meant they were both out of sight. No gym-goers to see them, no receptionist, no passersby at the window. Nobody except Mr Wavell who was watching and smiling.

Out of nowhere Toby began to feel strange, his body starting to heat up. “W-what the…” was all he could say before he cut himself off with a groan. Before he could even process what was going on, his groan deepened into a roar of discomfort as his body started to expand! Every part of him was growing larger and thicker… and slightly taller!!

Toby barely had any time to think as his muscle mass increased at a rapid rate. Before long he was tearing through his clothing by completely destroying his shirt with his broadening shoulders and back. Meanwhile forcing his shorts and underwear to rip under the pressure of his bulging thighs and ass. All the while groans deepened even lower by the second as his already tight underwear grew more uncomfortable with the increasing size of his cock and balls bulging against it.

Just before his shorts and underwear could explode off his body though, the growing slowed down. Toby was left panting and sweating like a madman, not know what the hell had just happened to him. But just when he thought it was over, his entire body tensed up! Then in a matter of seconds, his body began sprouting thick body hair all over! covering him from head to toe in a coating of manly fur along with a full beard.

With that the heat subsided and the changes finally came to a stop. For real this time. Toby felt disoriented for a moment before looking down at himself and not being able to believe what he saw.

A huge set of hairy pecs.

Before he even had a second more to think about what the hell had just happened, he heard what sounded like his own voice shouting from across the locker room “WHAT THE FUCK!” The voice screamed in a mix of what sounded like fear and disbelief.

Toby walked around to the lockers, almost tripping a couple time due to his new unfamiliar size and restrictive shorts. His eyes widened when he turned a corner to see none other than **his own body** Stood in front of Scott’s locker and swamped in the very same clothes that Scott had been wearing!!

“No…fucking…way” Toby said muttered to himself as he looked at what appeared to be his identical twin. Only he didn’t look like that anymore. He wasn’t skinny and hairless. He quickly starting to piece everything together as insane as it seemed just as his ‘lookalike’ turned to look at Toby with a look of sheer horror and bewilderment plastered on his face.

“No… no no no… Why d-do yo-… Why do…” His lookalike stumbled on his words. His body shaking with terror as he scanned over Toby. “W-WHY THE FUCK DO YOU LOOK LIKE ME?!” His lookalike finally shouted in a panic. But Toby simply smiled.

Toby turned to look at one of the many locker room mirrors and just like that his suspicion was confirmed. He hadn’t realised through all the muscle growth but Toby’s face had transformed also. And now the face staring back at him was none other than Scott… the hunky gym trainer who’s body he’d been thirsting over for months!

Almost immediately Toby couldn’t help but start flexing and groping his new body. Checking out his biceps with glee as the muscle peaked with such strength he never imagined. Running his hands through all the glorious chest hair that coated his thick pecs. He’d been dying to see Scott’s furry muscular chest for so long and now it was all his to touch and squeeze as much as his heart desired. It wasn’t until his old body, who must’ve been the real Scott, practically lunged towards Toby in a mad fury that he was forced to stop.

Scott was freaking out like a mad man and understandably so after losing his handsome hard earned body. But Toby didn’t want to deal with Scott right now. So he decided to put his new size and strength to test by using Scott’s own body against him to put him in a choke hold. Toby couldn’t believe how powerful he felt as Scott was completely helpless until he fell unconscious. Of course Toby felt a little bad as Scott honestly was actually a pretty chill dude but right now he was too drunk on his new body to care all that much.

Once he’d moved Scott out of the way, Toby got right back to business. Back in front of the mirror again, he worshiped the forest of hair on his chest before digging his nose into his pits. Not hesitating to get a good deep whiff of his new scent and allowing his eyes to roll with ecstasy. Before long Toby ripped off the tattered remains of his shorts and underwear to give his new fat cock the attention it was begging for. Buuuuut not before giving his ass a playful jiggle in the mirror first. Even going as far as to let a finger explore his now once again virgin hole. Not long after however he was jerking his new cock furiously while playing with his nipples until finally his cum exploded over the mirror and himself.

After a quick little cleanup Toby marched over to Scott in his old body before removing the now oversized clothes from him. He pulled up the larger underwear and shorts before slipping on the t-shirt that hugged his pecs nicely. Then he pulled on his new ankle socks and trainers before lastly taking the grey cap and placing it on his head. He could still smell the sweaty scent emanating from the clothes and just knowing that the scenes belonged to him now was enough to make his cock twitch again with excitement. Toby went on to take all his new things from Scott’s locker before exiting the locker room as a complete muscle daddy while leaving the real Scott unconscious and naked on the locker room floor.

Mr Wavell couldn’t help but smile and laugh a little as he watched Toby flex again while he passed the gym mirrors. Toby said goodbye to the receptionist who was none the wiser to swap that’d just happened. Simply believing him to be the same man who’d been working as one the gym’s best trainers for years. And before long he was headed off towards Scott’s car.

Wavell watched as Toby got into his new car. He considered revealing himself just to see Toby’s reaction but decided to remain as an anonymous observer this time. He knew Toby would be fine. After all, the transformation should allow for Scott’s memories to drip feed themselves into Toby’s mind whenever he may need them. He was gonna be fine. More than fine. He couldn’t quite say the same for the real Scott but… oh well.

As he watched Toby chug the last of Scott’s protein shake in the front seat, Mr Wavell decided his work here was finished. Simply floating in the sky as the car's engine roared to life and began pulling out of the car park.

“Time to head home.” Wavell mumbled to himself, knowing there’d be plenty more men out there for him to use his extraordinary powers on whoever the mood struck.

[bigification]

Bear Darts

"Yes! They finally came in." I say in excitement as I pick up a package in front of my dorm. I rush inside and rip open the package. 8 small darts with a weird green liquid inside and a bamboo tube. "There's no way they actually work right?" The website seemed so legit and the concept seemed too good to be true. "Guaranteed to transform any man into a certified bear." Was the tag line. I am tempted to jab one of them into my arm right now, but I'm too nervous. What if it's just poison or something? I should at least test it out, it'll be fun anyway.

I stuff the darts and the bamboo into my bag and head to campus. Who to start with? Mr. Henderson could be a good option. I don't like him so if it goes wrong I don't care, and he's pretty scrawny so I'll be able to see any difference. I decide to head to Mr. Henderson's office, figuring he'll be a good test run.

On the way, I come across a raccoon rummaging through garbage in an alley, and an idea sparks through my mind. If it's that harmful, it would hurt a raccoon, so I might as well test them out. I pull out a dart and the bamboo and head into the alley. I slot the dart into the end of the bamboo, line up the shot, and blow as hard as I can. I hear the swoosh of the dart piercing the wind. The dark hits the raccoons back and it barely reacts, as if it's just a measly mosquito bite. The green liquid drains out of the dart, and I wait for a reaction. It doesn't take long for the animal to start twitching. It's hard to tell in the shadow of the alley, but my kind went straight to the worst, it was poisonous. But then I saw its body change shape. It wasn't much, but its scrawny limbs grew thicker, its belly grew rounder, and its grubby little paws grew larger. By the end, it still resembled a raccoon, just larger and meatier than you'd expect a raccoon to be. Could this be real? I continue watching as the raccoon resumes its normal activities.

I let out a chuckle in excitement at what was yet to come. I walk back out of the alley and speed walk to Mr. Henderson's office, this was gonna be good. The website said results may vary depending on what the person looked like before the transformation, and based on other things like genetics. Essentially it's random. But I was still hoping to see Mr. Henderson with a big hairy gut spilling out of his shirt.

I finally make it to his office and I slowly open his door just a sliver. He's standing in the middle of the room, looking over at the wall to the left of the door. I feel confident enough that he's not able to see the door from the way he's looking. I look over to see he's very concentrated on a bunch of photos hung up on the wall, which makes sense as he's a photography prof.

I take a mental image of the prof before I line up the shot, so I can compare the before and after in my mind. He's got buzz cut and a bushy salt and pepper beard. His frame is quite skinny but I can see a little bit of a belly and moobs under his shirt. That shirts definitely not doing him any favours, I wonder what it will look like on him after. His arms and legs are scrawny, with little fat or muscle on them. He's also wearing some camo shorts.

Now with his image locked in my head, I prepare a dart and like up the shot. Same with the raccoon, I blow as hard as I can and the dart lodges into the side of his belly. He flinches for a moment, but then stops in places. I can see his muscle twitching, as if they're cramping and freezing him in place. It all happens so quickly. It starts with his belly. His small belly grows in waves of soft fat, each wave packing dozens of pounds. Each wave makes his gut jiggle more and more as it grows rounder and rounder. His gut and his love handles spill over his waistline as his shirt rides up, revealing a stretched out belly button. Soon enough, it appears as though he stuffed a small beach ball into his stomach with how large it is. Though it is soon complemented by a growing pair of soft moobs. If what he had before were moobs, he now has full on man tits. They're soft and round, pressing tightly against his shirt. I can even see his nipples harden under the shirt. Next to fall is his ass. His once flat derriere quickly plumped up similar to his belly. Waves of fat perked up his ass as it threatened to rip through his shorts. The button on his pants popped off and flung across the office in dramatic fashion, leaving his fly wide open. His arms and his legs thickened slightly as a layer of fat covered them, though they stayed quite skinny in proportion to his body. Also, in the process, his beard had grown out and became almost all grey.

The entire time I could feel my dick riding up into my waist band. This was so much hotter than I expected it to be. I want to go in there and get my hands on that fatass so bad, but I have to have restraint. His muscles have stopped twitching and he seems back in control, though he still seems laser focused on the wall of photos. He reaches to scratch his belly and seems a bit shocked at the fact that he's scratching skin rather than shirt. "Huh, I coulda sworn this fit yesterday, musta shrunk in the wash." He shrugs, completely oblivious to the changes his body had just gone through. I don't know if I find it more or less hot that he seems to not care that he's a fatass. I don't have time to think about it though, as he starts to turn towards the door. I quickly grab my bag and run. I'll get to see him for photography class tomorrow anyway.

I think about who I want to hit next. I've got 6 darts left and plenty of profs on my list. Now that it seems safe, I'm more willing to go for profs I like. So I think one of the hottest prof off the top of my head. Mr. Ahmed. God he's hot. He's got perfectly toned skin, a thick black beard, and beautiful eyes. The only thing is he's quite skinny, and I like my men thick. So this is the perfect opportunity, and his office is close by.

I arrive at his office and see him just on his phone. My mouth salivates as I think about what I'm gonna do to him. I pull out a dart and shoot it. It lands right into his biceps and the green liquid rapidly drains from the dart. My hand instinctively drifts to my crotch as I wait in anticipation.

He froze in place, just like Henderson. But this time it started from his arm instead of his belly, it must be from wherever the dart hits. His once skinny arm swells, ripping his sleeve in the process. His forearm followed suit, growing a thick pelt of hair in the process as his delicate hand grew into a monstrous man hand. The transformation continued into his shoulders, then to his chest. His shoulders broadened, pushing his small shirt to its limits. Then his suddenly exploded outward, tearing straight through what was left of his shirt. Thick muscles now lay under thick man tits as they hand over his stomach. His already thick chest hair became more dense as his nipples grew large and sensitive. His other arm quickly grew just as large as the first, evening out his hulking body. His exposed belly went from flat to large and rotund in a matter of seconds, though it remained quite solid from strong muscle that grew below it. His gut befell a similar fate to the rest of his body, being covered in a layer of dark hairs.

His lower half quickly grew to match his upper half. Fat and muscle flooded into his ass and thighs until his dress pants ripped in dramatic fashion, leaving him in nothing but his extremely tight underwear, leaving little to the imagination. The legs continued to grow, and his feet seemed to grow at least five sizes, busting out of his shoes. Finally his facial features began to change. The rather young professor looked as if he aged 15 years in just moments as wrinkles and blemishes riddled his face, and his hairline receded slightly. His face also seemed to become a bit chubbier, matching his hulking gut.

He finally unfroze, seeming unfazed by changes in his body. He reached to stretch some of his muscles, I'm sure they're sore after such an intense transformation. But he quickly realized his lack of clothing and left to a backroom to find some. The idea that he wouldn't be able to find any clothes that remotely fit him made it all the more hot for me, but I got out before I got caught.

I was on top of the world, there was no way I would stop now. I thought about who to find next, and the choice seemed obvious. Mr. Salim, how could I forget the health and fitness prof. Ive never had him, but damn it is tempting to take a fitness class just to get to look at him more. He kinda looked like Mr. Ahmed but buff, cocky, and far more charming.

I quickly made it to the fitness building and found his office. I peaked in and saw him working out with his earbuds in, this was my shot. Without hesitation I load a dart and shoot. I chuckle quietly as I see the dart lodge into his ass. He goes to scratch his ass but fails to notice the dart, soon after he drops his weights and freezes in place. His already perky ass grows slightly, but not as much as I'd expect. Still enough to pants ride down his ass a bit, revealing a bright blue jockstrap. Of course Mr. Salim would wear a jockstrap. His thighs grow significantly, bulging with muscle to the point of ripping his pants. The rest of his legs follow suit, growing thick calves and massive feet.

I can see under his shirt that his waist is tightening up, which is surprising given that he's the first one to not get fat. A little disappointing if you ask me, but I'm not disliking what I see so far. His shoulders broaden and his chest puffs out, ripping right through his shirt. His arms nearly double in size, making his look like a bodybuilder as his hands grow to match. His face seemed to age as some of his hair turned grey. As he aged, his already hairy body became even more so, covering most of his body in thick salt and pepper hair. Even his stubble grew out into a thick silver beard.

Mr. Salim put down his weights, got up, and walked to the mirror in his office. He turned so he could see his ass in the mirror and snapped a photo.

A part of me was hoping to see him become a fat slob, something about fat gym teachers always got me going. But I certainly wouldn't complain about this view.

The health and fitness building is right beside geography and history, so I should head there. I try to think of a teacher I've had in this department. Maybe Mr. Smith? I had him for first year history and he's hot, I just remember him being a bit weird. That doesn't matter, I'm already on my way to his office.

I peak through his door and see him focused on his computer, perfect timing. I load a dart and shoot it. It hits him in the side of his thigh. Within moments I can see his jeans struggling to contain his growing legs. His jeans become even tighter as fat fills his ass, creating a loud pop sound as his belt snaps off.

His slim torso expands until he has a thick muscle gut and love handles that spill over his jeans. His chest grows into two strong but soft looking pecs that are impossible to miss through his tight shirt. His arms explode with muscle, making it look like they're gonna rip his sleeves. Finally his face fattens up a bit as a short beard covers his soft jawline.

Mr. Smith leans back in his chair and crossed his arms over his tank of a gut.

It wasn't what I expected for Mr. Smith to be honest. I expected him to turn into a big fat history teacher, but he is hotter as a muscle chub. As I'm watching, he goes to unzip his jeans. He whips out his massive dick and starts to jerk off. Damn I didn't expect Mr. Smith to be packing that, but maybe it's a side effect of the darts. I keep watching until he swivels his chair in my direction, I can't risk being caught so I leave.

I look at my watch and realize I've lost track of time, I have a math class right now. I run across the campus to my math class and quietly sit at the back of the theatre.

I quickly get bored and wonder if I should hit Mr. Derrick with a dart in the middle of the lecture. It's risky but I'm bored so fuck it. I pull out the dart and try to shoot it as quietly as possible and it hits him square in the stomach. Mr. Derrick is a very scrawny man, so I'm curious about how it's gonna effect him.

As soon as he gets hit, he stops talking and freezes in place, but weirdly enough, no one in the class seems to notice. The man's skinny body explodes with fat. At first he grows a small pot belly, then a sizable beer belly, then it settles as a giant ball gut that looks like he stuffed a beach ball down his button up. I'm surprised his shirt has ripped yet. His chest grows two man tits that are visible through his shirt. The sleeve of his jacket starts to look like stuffed sausages as his fat arms fill out all the space in them. The man's thighs thicken until his pants start to rip and his fat ass causes his fly to rip open. Finally his clean shaven face grows a thick brown beard.

He continued the lecture as if nothing had happened. His lack of awareness of his body makes even more hot. I can't believe he ended up that fat, I can see his gut spill out of his shirt each time he reaches up. And every part of his body bounces when he walks around. Eventually he ended up sitting down for the second half of the lecture, and he was often out of breath from just talking.

Once the lecture is over, I walk up to the front of the theatre and talk to Mr. Derrick.

"Hey, I've been struggling keeping up with the material lately, I was wondering if we could have a one on one session?" I ask him.

"Oh ya for sure, just come by during my office hours and I'd be happy to help." He responds. The man is practically panting at this point and I can see the sweat start to drench his beard.

"By the way, I don't think that shirt fits you anymore sir." I say just to make him uncomfortable. He just looks down, blushes, and runs off. Hobbling as fast as he can out of the theatre.

I got two darts left, I should use them wisely. The only teacher I can think of right now is Mr. Brown. His voice is so deep and buttery but his body doesn't match it, he's really skinny. I think he'd be better off as a bear anyway.

I make my way to the athletics facility, I've had him for French and English class, so I know where to find him. He works out around this time most days, so I make my way to the gym. As I walk to the gym, I see him in the corner of my eye in the showers. He's turned away from me, so I quickly take my shot, hitting him in the back. His back muscles grow and become more defined before a thick layer of fat covered them and creates thick rolls down his back. His stomach grows into a sizable belly with a thick belly button. His chest expands, first to juicy pecs, but then they slowly soften into a pair of moobs. His traps grow as his shoulders broaden, I also notice that he's getting taller, like a lot taller. He was shorter than me, but now his head is well above the shower head. His arms grow to match the rest of his hulking body.

Next his ass widened and started to sag slightly under its own weight. His thighs thickened until they rubbed together and his feet grew from a size 11 to a monstrous size 20. I also noticed his dick grow to at least 10 inches, if not more. All the while he was still getting taller, by now his shoulders were above the shower head. Finally his facial features became softer and fatter as the hair on his head fell out, although his stubble grew into a thick black beard.

As the transformation ends, Mr. Brown reaches behind him and grabs the dart out of his back. He's the only one to have noticed it. He looks at the dart for a moment, then turns toward me. I try to duck behind the wall, but I think he saw me. I hide in one of the bathroom stalls until I hear him leave, with the size of that man, it's not hard to tell where he's walking.

Once I can't hear him anymore, I rush out of the stall and grab my bag. But just as I reach the door, I bump into Mr. Brown. He's waiting at the doorway with a small green towel wrapped around his waist.

"What's this?" He says holding up one of my darts. Interestingly enough, it's a full one. The one I shot him with should be empty, so that means. Oh no. I look through my bag, the last dart is gone. Before waiting for a response, Mr. Brown just grabs my arm and jabs the dart into it.

I feel frozen in place. My clothes feel tighter and tighter until I hear them rip. I feel the warmth of the locker room air touch my bare skin. I start to feel itchy all over my body as my perspective shifts higher and higher. I feel so strong. I feel like I've grown a foot in height, but I'm still at eye level with Mr. Browns chest.

I finally gain control of my body and look down at the damage. I have thick pecs and a little bit of a belly, all covered in hair. Thick arms and legs, also covered in hair, actually my entire body is now covered in hair. And the bulge in my underwear is massive.

I turn my attention back to Me. Brown.

"Where did you get these?" He asks in his deep intimating voice. I stutter for a moment. "I'm not gonna snitch, I just got a few people I want to use it on." Mr. Brown asks. My fear turns to excitement as I realize the damage Mr. Brown and I are gonna do together.

[cherry-pop-elf]

Honey, I’m Home-!

Sirius Black x Mom! Reader

Ever since Sirius was sent to Azkaban, you were the one in charge of raising Harry. Doing your best, and lucky to have Remus to help. Because of that, a certain Rat wasn’t able to avoid any of your gazes. When Harry’s third year came to a end, you were given quite a surprise at the train station

Warnings 18+, P in V, Female Reader, high emotions, hurt comfort, fluffy and heated sex, getting back together, implied breeding kink, taking care of your man with baths food and you, sir this bed is about to be destroyed with how hard he’s going to rail you. Also, implied Wolfstar/ Remus x You/Poly situation deal up in here hehehehe

“Harry-!” You called, with a smile. Always there to pick him up from the station, every single time. As a good parent would. Ever since you found out he had such a risk to end up at the Dursleys, like hell you would let that happen. Made you pamper him a bit, given your good friends lost their lives for him. But like hell he didn’t deserve it.

“Shhh shh-!” Harry was soon hushing his friends, leaving you confused. Hermione and Ron quick to hush up, while Remus would set the last of the bags off the train. Wanting to help out, since there were so many Weasleys to worry about. The way he smiled, you were even more curious. You couldn’t recall the last time he looked so relieved. Was there a change in laws that permitted him to work at Hogwarts?

“Children, settle down. Settle down. Go on and show her the surprise.” He teases them, as he would help Molly with the rest of the Weasleys. He threw you a wink, which had you very confused. Not what did that Marauder have in mind this time?

“Mum…..Can we get a dog?” Harry asked you, as the trio stood next to each other. With cuts and bruises all over, but smiling. Even Ron seemed chipper, despite the fact he was in crutch. The hell did those three get into this time?

“A dog-? Harry….You know why we can’t get a dog.” You sighed, not wanting to have this discussion again. With out Sirius, you just couldn’t. Any dog was to painful of a reminder. Oh how you miss your padfoot. What you would give to see him again.

“Mum, please? He’s got no where else to go. Just look at him-“ Harry pleaded, as the trio stepped aside. The dog now exposed to you. Was so painfully skinny, yet also so furry at the same time. Matted fur, and just looking like a grim. He looked so much like Sirius, but so dead as well. Your heart just couldn’t say no this time.

The defeated sigh had them cheer, as Remus returned. Still giving you this coy smile, that had you furrow your brows. You felt like you were missing something, but you didn’t know what. You just knew that it was time to take everyone home.

With Harry hugging his friends goodbye, while this new dog stuck close to your legs, Remus would catch up quickly with Molly. Explaining something. You swore it was about Scabbers, but the new playmate was keeping your attention. Suddenly jumping on you, and licking your face.

“ACK-! HEEL HEEL-!” You called, as the dog was just to strong. How was something so fragile so durable? Reminded you of Sirius. How even in his dog form he was able to tackle people down. Was just making your heart hurt more, which in a morbid sense made you unable to refuse the dog either.

“Mum, Uncle Remus said you should head home with our new dog. He needs me to stay here and catch Mrs. Weasley up on stuff.” The way he fidgeted with his glasses told you it was a mixture of a lie and some truths. What the hell were these people planning? Was this some scheme to help you move on? Accept Sirius was never coming back? That hurt, but also a point was made. Who can escape Azkaban?

“Alright. But be home before dark.” You warned, as you kissed his forehead. Right on his scar, which made him smile. He made sure to give you a hug, before quickly returning to the red heads. Poor Molly looked ready to faint. Make that she did, and the twins had to catch her. Yeah, like hell you wanted to be involved with that.

“Alright, let’s-“ But the dog was running. Right through the wall, with no hesitation. You were flabbergasted, but had no time to think. Harry’s new dog was running off. No way you wanted his poor heart broken over that. So, you ran after it. Trying to catch up, but it seemed high on life.

“GET BACK HERE-!” You hollered, as the dog was running like it was the last thing it could ever do. You were so focused on trying to catch up to it, you barely noticed where you were running towards. By the time you finally caught up, you were wheezing. Hands on your knees, as the door the dog stopped at opened.

“About time Master and Mistress Black returned.” Kreacher sneered, as the dog hurried inside. Did he say what you think he said? No way. That can’t be Sirius. No way in hell. Looks like him, but he’s in Azkaban. You don’t just escape Azkaban. Sure, the daily prophet said he did. But it was more than likely gossip gone wild. You swore every week they said someone did, only for them to be returned the next day.

“Kreacher, phew, give me a minute here.” You coughed, as you stumbled inside. Left for the building to vanish, in the early morning fog. As if it was never there. Leaving you to be alone, with the elf and dog, as you hung up your coat.

You did your best with making the home more live able. The spare rooms built for whenever Harry wanted friends over for the summers. Along with just a safe haven for friends in need of a stay. You turned what was once a cage, into a proper home. Seemed the dog loved it, as it was quick to run up the stairs. Bolting past the curtained painting, and straight to your bedroom.

“How does it….No. no this can’t be. No way…” It was starting to become harder to deny, as you walked up the stairs. By the time you reached the door, you heard it. That familiar eerie bone cracking, when a animagus was changing forms. No way. It couldn’t be. It can’t-

“Home sweet home-“ That gruff voice sung to you, as you opened the door. There he was. Your husband. Your world. Your everything. Standing there, bending his back, as he sported a tattered Azkaban uniform. Bloody, dirty, hardly clothing at all. Hair a mangled mess, and in desempate need of a bath and shave. He was so sickly thin, the very thin fabric was just a sheet on him. Hardly could process it, when those dark eyes locked on yours. Hair so long now, and body tattered. No matter the design, it was still him. Your Sirius.

“Hardly changed a day…” He dreamily said, with that exhausted smile. He was so drained, but you could still see the pure joy in his eyes. He was home. He was with you, and could be there for Harry now. His best friend Remus was in his life again. He’s not in that damn prison, and he’s in your sight once more.

You didn’t care about the grime, as you practically fell into his arms. Sobbing in joy, as he held you close. Despite his thinner structure, he was able to hold you tightly. As tightly as he could, and sway with you. No need for words. Just gentle tears.

That was why Remus was so coy, and why Harry had you two run off. You two needed time to reconnect. Even so young, Harry could grasp how important this was. Guess you were rasing him right. Seemed also that Kreacher might have missed Sirius as well, because you could hear a bath being run. No one asked for it, but he did it. His own free choice. He missed him, in his own way.

“Darling, I love you so much. I really do, but I am so fucking gross right now. You know I’m being honest when even I’m unable to handle my own stink. I’ve had sex with Moony under a full moon. I’m GROSS gross right now. I will kill for a bath-“ He went on, making you just laugh with your tears. Despite the years in such a horrific prison, he was still himself. Guess he was always a little insane.

You didn’t let him go an inch, as you trailed after him to the bathroom. More than happy to help him wash. Just enjoying the needed intimate moment. Just a wife, washing her husband. By god was he filthy. By the time Harry and Remus returned, he was finally drying off. You had no idea if the bathtub will ever recover. Least he was now in his favorite black robe.

“I’ve got dinner handled, don’t worry-!” Remus called, as Sirius would come down the stairs with you. Unable to let go of his arm, and he hardly complained. He missed your touch all the same, as you two would enter the dinning room. Where Harry sat.

“Guess we better start from the beginning.” Harry murmured. You had already gotten used to your son’s insane adventures, but this one took the cake. He got his god father out of Azkaban, somehow-? Yeah, you were sitting down for this. Mindlessly playing with the exposed chest hair you could grab, as the trio of misfits began to explain.

Even while eating, more like Sirius devouring anything in sight, there was so much to discuss. Was mostly Remus, and Harry, speaking. Given Sirius was more so busy hiding during that time frame. Oh how your heart had broken, and repaired, over and over from it all. Your poor husband. But, he’s back now. He’s back, and he’s never leaving you again.

“I know you are my god father and all, but….Do I call you dad now-?” Harry asked. He’s thirteen, still a child after all. It’s going to be a lot to process, even by Wizard standards. With his meal finished, Sirius did have to think a moment. Dispite the fact Harry knew Sirius from stories, because of you and Remus, he was still a stranger after all.

“Uncle Padfoot will work just fine.” He smiled, as he ruffled Harry’s hair. That made the young teen give an awkward grin, as there was something to work with now. Uncle Moony and Uncle Padfoot. It’s a start, and you couldn’t be happier. Just staring with such love to him, with your head on his shoulder. Taking in that scent, as Remus was unable to stop his smile to.

“Harry, dear, why don’t we go out for a walk. Hm?” Remus asked him, making the boy raise a brow. Why would he want to….Oh. Right. Remus would give a gentle head nudge towards the door, and Harry was quick to get the message. Grabbing his jacket, wand, and chasing after his uncle. Not wanting to say another word, as he really rather not think about his mother’s sex life. Even if it’s with his god father.

The second the door closed, you were yanked from your chair. You gave a squeak, as you were tossed over his shoulder. Just like the old days at school. Whenever he wanted your attention, he simply tossed you over his shoulder. Forcing you to pay attention to him, as he would steal you to a private room for a discussion.

“I’m not letting you out of that bed until the head board breaks-“ He warned, as that had your heart racing. Twelve years is a long time, and there was most certainly some catching up to do. You couldn’t deny that, as you watch the stairs trail behind him. Escorting you to your once shared bedroom. Now together again.

You were plopped right on the bed, and he was on you like the hungry dog he was. Stealing you into his lips, and you couldn’t stop your moaning. It had been so long. You needed him as badly as he needed you. How you were enjoying the new long hair, and tangling your fingers into it. Needing as much skin as you could get from him.

He was more than happy to give it to you. The robe thrown aside, as he was pulling at your clothes. Not giving damn if they tore. Nothing else mattered in this moment. He wanted to fuck his wife, and by god was he going to. Twelve years, in Azkaban. He’s going to get all twelve years of pent up desire out in one night. Will your body recover? Do you even care?

“Sirius-“ You sighed, as he finally got your top off. His face buried into your chest, as he snapped your bra strap off. Tossing it aside, as he drank you up. Just feeling your skin on his, and savoring the long missed flesh against his bearded face. Feeling that freshly softened hair on your chest felt so good. Every single fiber of your existence was on fire. Felt like you might implode.

“Not a day passed by, that I wasn’t thinking of you. You, Remus, Harry, you three were what kept me sane. I knew you three were safe with each other. Waiting for me. I came back. I came back, like I promised.” He sighed, as you felt the tears on your chest. Gentle fingers played with his hair, as to try and calm him down. Comforting him.

“I always knew you would.” You felt so silly thinking Remus would ever try and help you move on. Hypocrite he would have been. Human emotions be human emotions, and they were being carnal right now. Needing to burn and burn and burn.

“Have me again, like you’ve had me before.” You asked him, as you cupped his face. Having that thick beard nuzzle into your palm, as those dark eyes stared up to yours. So much pain in his face, but comfort in his eyes. It’s a long journey to recover, but his soul was still there. His body is damaged, but a body can repair. A mind is harder, and that was the battle. A battle he won.

With a kiss to your palm, he would soon attack your lips. Growling into you, as he pulled away the rest of your clothes. Needing to devour your body. Soon marking away at your neck, your chest, your arms. If there was anything his lips could grasp, and making sure you were marked. As if to remind the world you belonged to him, and he wasn’t going anywhere. Not anymore.

“Sirius, how can you still be such a tease?” You whined, as he was grazing his teeth over your thigh. Leaving a bite on your flesh. Letting himself enjoy the flavor of the tingling flesh under his tongue.

“What? I’m an old dog. Old dogs have bad habits.” He teased, before he finally allowed you to get some attention. He really didn’t change, and you were shocked. Never thought being abused could be useful. Only a Black would have such a morbid survival skill.

Before any more depressing thoughts could fill your head, you were able to enjoy the familiar sight. Your husband between your legs, with his cock rubbing against you. The tip of his cock coming into view, whenever he rolled his hips up and down. Rubbing right on your clit, and making you whimper. Sure you’ve played with yourself, but nothing beats his touch.

You both were gripping tightly. Him on your thighs, while you grabbed his shoulders. Needing to feel him in your hands. You both needed it so badly, but both held a near fear. As if afraid that it was all a dream. Luckily, he had the nerve to test that fear. Test it, as he finally pushed in.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this-“ He moaned, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head. The way he growled, and his body just shivered. Aching, and moaning. Might spill just then, if he didn’t stop. Just savoring the feeling of being back inside of you, and how your eyes watered from pure comfort. To have your husband back.

He would lean down, and kiss away your tears, before he allowed himself to move. Just moaning for you, as his nails dug into your flesh. Marking you more, as you moaned into each others mouths. Needing to drink in every last thing you both could offer. So much to catch up on, and to make up for.

With the tender moment passing, you were soon reminded of the wild man you married. The feeling of your legs being pushed towards your shoulders, as he tried to get into you deeper. With his hands now on your ankles, as he was snapping his hips into yours. Needing to make sure you felt ever inch of him.

You loved it, and missed it, all. The feeling of your arms around his neck, and tangling your fingers into his hair. How he growled into you, and the snarls. Oh how you loved how animalistic he was for you. How he would bark and howl at the beg and call to you. Your big bad wolf.

It was all you missed. Had you in a mixture of tears, and pure desire. How he wanted to fight your tears, and kissed you. As heated as he could, to make up for the years parted. To taste you, and savor you all over again. Just the sounds of your moans, the creaking bed, and the flesh on flesh.

You didn’t know how long it lasted, but you felt him pull your lip. Sinking his teeth into it. A typical sign that he was close. A need to ground himself, to last a little longer. Oh how you missed his little habits. That thrill of pain again sent you over, as you came with him. To be as connected as possible.

You expected to get a moment to savor the after glow, but he kept true to his word. You were soon tossed onto your stomach, with the ass in the air. Of course he wanted doggy. It’s cheesey, but a favorite. Suppose one more round could be mustered.

One more became two, and three, and soon you had to chug a Pepper Up potion to keep up. You lost track of the rounds, before you were laid on your back. Soaked in sweat, and sticky from it all. Sheets hardly on the bed, and you were certain there were cracks in the wood. Hardly could breathe, but it seemed he was satisfied.

“Pretty sure you fucked a dozen kids into me.” You wheezed, as he chuckled. Enjoying a much needed cigarette, but still making sure you were comforted. Having your head in his lap, as he played with your face. Admiring all your features.

“Good.” He snickered, as you swatted at his hand. The both of you able to share a laugh, as there was a soft knock at the door. All Sirius had to do was give a sniff in the air, and he knew who it was. A whistle was given, before he grabbed a pillow for you. So you could cover up, despite the fact Remus has certainly saw you naked many times.

“Feeling better now-? Could have used a silencing charm. Had to tell Harry Kreacher was fixing a wardrobe.” Remus scoffed, with a tray of needed drinks and snacks. He would set it down on the bed side table, before joining on the bed. He deserved to catch up with Sirius to. Fine by you.

With some shifting, you were soon snuggled between the two men. Sirius still playing with your hair, as the two men remained sitting up. Keeping their voices low, so you could drift. Just able to be safe, and warm, again. Snuggling your husband, and comforted by the sound of old memories.

What a wonderful lullaby.

[warping-realities]

Parental Pressure 

Eddie watched the personal trainer's video for the thousandth time as he was getting closer to the little gym for his first class. He had snuck out of his house super early and quietly because he knew Nick, his old man, wouldn’t approve of his son wasting time on this kinda stuff. He became a single father really young, back in high school, and now, at 35, he did everything he could to make sure his kid didn’t follow the same path. Becoming a doctor was Nicholas Rousseau’s biggest dream, but early fatherhood messed up his chance to hit the books at college. Not that he blamed Eddie for it; on the contrary, they usually had a solid relationship, except when Eddie strayed from the plans his dad laid out for his future. If Nick couldn’t get into med school, Eddie sure as hell would, whether he liked it or not. And now, with less than a month before college kicked off, Eddie was having doubts about the path laid out for him. So, in a rebellious move, after getting an invite to check out Rocco “Rocky” Mancini's gym, an Italian bodybuilder who moved to the States, now retired and not exactly a big name in the game, who a few years back started hustling as a personal trainer and, according to the promo video on Eddie's Instagram, was looking for young men to boost his portfolio. It looked like that gig wasn’t going great either. The first person to sign up would get a month of free daily training. Perfect for Eddie; after all, a month of training with an expert before college would make things way easier when he had to hit the gym away from his overprotective dad’s watchful eye. Surprisingly he was the first one to sign up! And so, the young  skinny man, with light brown hair found himself stepping into the dimly lit gym at 6 AM.

As he stood frozen at the door, anxiety washing over him, a monstrous figure approached, strutting with swagger, muscles bulging looking like they might burst from the thin layer of skin wrapping them. With a fuller beard and looking at least five years older than in the video Eddie had seen over and over, the guy oozed confidence and a certain arrogance. But those weren’t the only things he was giving off, as it became clear to Eddie when the dude came up to him with a sweaty hand extended to shake, a distinct animal musk dominating his senses.

“You must be Eddie! Nice to meet ya, kid; I’m Rocco, but you can call me Rocky—everyone does. Welcome to my little temple. So, you ever trained before?”

“Ahn, no... I wanted to, but my dad... no, I’ve never trained.”

“Feeling a little bit of Daddy Issues here? Just kidding, son! Where’s your workout gear?”

“I thought, since it’s the first day... I... didn’t bring any...”

“Damn, son, you weren’t kidding when you said you’ve never trained; you don’t have a clue! But don’t sweat it, we’ll fix that! You can wear the shirt; I’ll get you some shorts.”

“I... don’t wanna be a bother.”

“Son, you came here to train, and train is what you’re gonna do. I don’t know what your pops taught you but it looks like you got a lot to learn from me. First thing, you gotta be more assertive—don’t be scared to say what you think or do what you like.”

Hearing that, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the fear and anxiety that had been eating at him for weeks seemed to fade away. He wanted to be there, and nobody was gonna take that away from him, not even his old man.

After hitting the locker room and putting on the shorts Rocco lent him, which were way too big in the legs but surprisingly just right in the waist, Eddie went back to the main room where the personal trainer was waiting for him.

“We gotta fill those shorts, son!”

“That’s why I’m here, Mr. Mancini.”

“Hell yeah! That’s the spirit but none of this Mr. Mancini nonsense; you either call me Rocky or coach.”

“Yes, sir, coach!”

“That’s right! Now, back to our chat, you said you’ve been training for a while, but how long is a while, son?”

That info was totally wrong; he’d never trained, right? But why did he have fuzzy memories of sneaking out to hit the school gym before class during his senior year? If he hadn’t trained, where did those small but tight muscles come from?

“I’ve been training for almost a year, coach, but I don’t think I’ve seen much result.”

“Two more things to teach you, son: first, we’re never happy with the size we are, and second, even so, you’re never gonna downplay your achievements; you’ve done something that most people can’t even pull off. Be proud of that.”

“I... I’m proud, yeah!” he replied, realizing the coach was speaking the truth. He had a lot of pride in what he accomplished, even though he knew he was still far from where he wanted to be.

“Awesome! Now you’re talking like a real champ. But enough chit-chat, let’s see what you’re made of.” Rocco said before putting Eddie through the most grueling workout he’d ever experienced. His self-taught training hadn’t prepared him for this level of exhaustion. After half an hour of intense agony, they took a break, and Eddie tried to recover before what he knew would be another half hour of torture as Rocco praised him.

“Damn, son, all that fuss you had with your pops to come train with me in your junior year was worth it. You’re huge; another minute and that shirt ain’t gonna hold!”

Still exhausted from the workout, Eddie took a moment to wrap his head around what the trainer had said. A fight with his dad...? And training here for at least three years...? No... it didn’t make sense... but then he saw his own reflection in the gym mirror, and he was... fucking swole! And that... that wasn’t just possible; it was thanks to the time he’d spent caring for his body all this while, even with his dad breathing down his neck.

“Thanks, Coach, but I’m still not anywhere near where I wanna be!”

“Well, if you get closer, this shirt definitely isn’t gonna hold. I’ll grab you one of mine, or you can train shirtless until the other clients show up, son. In the meantime, figure out how to get that thing off, but I doubt it’s coming off without tearing. Maybe you should film a video for your social media; I bet your followers will go wild!”

“Haha, I don’t think that they will care, and I feel kinda uncomfortable putting myself out there. So I’ll take the shirt.” Eddie replied as the coach returned with an enormous shirt in hand and offered it to him.

“Son, there’s no reason to be shy about showing off; you sculpted that body for a reason. Don’t tell me that’s another one of your dad’s ideas? You never cared much about what he thinks, and I’ve known you since you were a little brat, fourteen years old, showing up on opening day to get an autograph!”

Once again, Eddie felt something shift inside him; the cordial relationship he had with his overly protective dad was turning into a conflictual one, with both of them constantly arguing about the expectations they had for Eddie’s future, which drove him to practically live at Rocco’s gym, where he helped with maintenance or took care of the place to keep training without having to pay.

“You’re right, as always, Rocky; it’s just that, I dunno... I think this crowd that needs to post everything they do is kinda empty and vain.”

“Son if you don’t show off your gains, you won’t grow your followers, and so what if it seems kinda empty? What matters is being seen. And nobody builds a body like yours without a bit of vanity. I’ll let you keep training; I’ve got a client in twenty minutes. If you need me for anything, just holler.”

“Rocky, I can train better than a lot of pro bodybuilders, man! You know that!”

“Son there’s a fine line between confidence and arrogance! You can strut around all you want with your followers, but don’t come at me with that!” Rocky shot back, though he couldn’t hide a smile of approval.

As the trainer moved away to organize things for his client, Eddie focused on finishing his remaining exercises. Kicking off his sneakers and heading to the squat rack barefoot, he stacked plate after plate until he formed a sizable pile that would surprise anyone. But the truth was, despite the insane weight, it was relatively easy for Eddie. Next, he hit the leg press and finished with deadlifts using a bar that weighed more than a baby rhino. When he sat down to do his last exercise of the day, calves, a distinct funk emanated from his armpits, but mainly from his giant size 14 bare feet. Looking at himself and feeling pumped, he couldn’t resist pulling out his phone to shoot a TikTok video. He was in the middle of recording when Rocky interrupted him.

“Damn, kid, you reek! No offense, we all have a little man funk; I know how it is, but clients are gonna start showing up, so take a shower and let’s get to work.”

“Damn, coach, sometimes you’re worse than my dad.” The kid replied, stopping the recording.

“I am your father, boy!” The older man shot back with a sinister grin and a predatory look at the younger man before continuing. “And if you really wanna please your fans, be a show-off; don’t hide your assets, son; show off that chest and those abs, but hurry up, ‘cause this place is gonna be packed soon. We’re not the biggest gym in town by luck, Wardo. This young stud pose might please your fans, but the morning ladies prefer when you play the part of the innocent bambino.”

This time, the wave of strangeness hit Eddie so hard that he felt dizzy and nauseous, exacerbated by the potent funk he was putting off. And for the first time since he stepped foot in that gym, he fully realized what was going down as he automatically took off his shirt and walked toward one of the gym mirrors, a gym which seemed to expand with every step he took, turning from a small studio into a gigantic complex. As his skin took on an olive tone and his dark brown hair curled into perfect black curls, while his nose turned aquiline like a Roman emperor from antiquity, Eddie struggled within his own mind while Edoardo Mancini took control. If someone could hear the debate between the two, it would sound something like:

“Dude, I am... no, we are what you’ve always wanted to be! Pops gave you this chance; why not embrace it?”

“’Cause I... I’m going to med school...”

“You never wanted that; we never wanted that; that was Nicholas’s thing, not ours. This is our chance to be whoever we wanna be!”

“No... we are what Rocco made us; we’re just trading one controlling dad for another!”

“Not even close, dude! We chose this path; he didn’t pressure us! We followed him out of admiration, and that boosted both his success and ours; we’re legends in the fitness world!”

“Rocco was a mediocre pro... he’s using us for leverage!”

“And what’s wrong with that? We’re getting something out of it too! And how is that different from Nicholas pressuring you?”

“I... I... don’t know...”

“Dude, if you didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. Chill and enjoy; besides, Pops already got what he wanted from us. He’s not gonna pressure us to follow in his footsteps. We can be whatever we want: bodybuilders like him, or fitness models, or even kickstart an acting career; and I’m not even talking about porn, even though this big guy between our legs would be a hit. Just accept it.” Wardo said, stroking the giant cock in his mind and in real life.

“I... I... damn... this feels so... fucking... good!”

“Wardo! Wrap it up, kid, and stop playing with that thing; we got a new client coming.” Rocco scolded his son.

“Damn, Pops, another ruined video!”

“You weren’t gonna post that, kid; you wanna get banned from social media?”

“I was just messing around...”

“Kid... you’ve got five minutes to take a shower and get your ass to the front desk.”

“Okay, Dad! Did you hear that, folks? The great Rocco Mancini has spoken, and the good son obeys! I’ll be back with updates soon.” The young man said before stopping the recording.

“I’ll edit it so nothing racy gets out; don’t worry, Dad!”

“Five minutes and counting!” Rocco replied with fake irritation, but in reality, he was puffed up with pride for his son as he headed for the reception, spotting a man in his mid-thirties, wearing glasses and an outfit that screamed he’d never set foot in a gym in his life.

“Good morning, sir; welcome to Rocky's Gym; I’m Rocky Mancini, the owner and head coach. Are you looking for something?”

“Good morning, I’m Nick Rousseau, and I’m actually looking for my son; his phone tracker showed he was here just a few minutes ago before it suddenly stopped working.”

“Tracker? Isn’t that a bit much? Anyway, how old is he and what’s he like? We haven’t had anyone too young around here today, except for my own kid, but if I can help you out…”

“I... I don’t know...”

“You don’t know? What kinda dad doesn’t know how to describe his own kid?”

“I... I...” Nicholas replied, his voice filled with genuine desperation, which made Rocco feel a bit of sympathy, but not enough to stop him from making the next call.

“Hey, Wardo... Wardo!!! Damn kid never listens! Edoardo Mancini!!!!” Rocky yelled while watching Nicholas slightly tremble at the sound of that name.

“What’s up, Pops? I’ll get ready in a sec.” The handsome young man replied as he prepared to flex the powerful muscles that no kid his age could get without maximum dedication, watched by his dad and the other boy.

“Not that, you insubordinate ragazzo! This guy’s looking for his son; has anyone younger shown up today?”

“Nope!” He replied, giving Nicholas a quick glance over the shades he was wearing just for style before turning around and finally heading to the locker room.

“Sorry about that, teenage boys; you know how they are.” Rocco said, smiling at the other man.

“I... know?”

“Didn’t you come looking for your son?”

“Son?? Son... no... I don’t have kids... do I?” Nicholas replied, looking both confused and desperate.

“Are you feeling alright? I’m no doc, but I can try to help.”

“Doc... doctor? No... no need... I’m a doctor.” Nicholas replied with more confidence.

“Seriously? That’s awesome! Doctors are always good clients; they know how to take care of themselves.”

“Client?”

“You didn’t come here to train? We’re in a gym, after all.”

“Of course... I came... to train. You come highly recommended.”

“Modesty aside, it’s because I’m the best. I normally don’t take new clients, but we could use a doctor to evaluate our clients, so we could do a trade; you wouldn’t happen to be a sports doc, would you?”

“No, I…”

“Awesome! Just what I needed! But I can tell you’re already in shape!” Rocco said, grinning. “Let me show you the gym. Normally, this would be Wardo’s job, but the kid’s been so focused on his influencer career that he’s slacking here... between us, I’d rather he be a bodybuilder like me, but I think a dad should respect his kid’s wishes; don’t you think?” Rocco asked, and without waiting for a reply, he continued. “Don’t you wanna have kids? Are you single or married? Dude, if you’re single, I gotta introduce you to my sister; no disrespect to her, ‘cause my mama raised me right, but between us, she’s a total smoke show...” And so he went on while Nicholas followed, not realizing that with every word spoken, his reality was adjusting to the other man’s desires.

Minutes later, Rocco stepped into the locker room bathroom and watched his son recording another video, already showered but still unable to shake off the musk that surrounded him, maybe because he was still wearing the same shorts from his workout. He admired his boy, feeling proud knowing all this was his hard work paying off.

When the young man finished recording, he turned to him.

“Wardo, finish getting dressed and come out here for a minute; I got a surprise for you.”

….

“Hey guys, Wardo Mancini here, and I’ve got some awesome news! You’re probably tired of seeing my pops in my videos, but today, besides him, I wanna introduce you to someone else.” He said, repositioning the camera in the packed gym.

“This handsome fella next to my dad is my doctor, Nic Russo, and on top of that, he’s my uncle, married to my dad’s sister. And now for the biggest news: he’s about to be a dad, and he asked me to be the godfather of his boy! Just think about the genetics of that kid with a dad like this and an uncle like my pops. My uncle says the kid can be whatever he wants, but we all know the iron bug is in our blood, and as far as his godfather is concerned, Rocky Russo is gonna be a champion bodybuilder!”

[avatar-anna]

please please pleeeeeease more of assistant×harry!! 🥺

Assistant! Reader x Harry Styles Masterlist

August 2013

In just a year of being Harry Styles’ assistant, Y/n had seen a lot, experienced a lot, and learned to expect just about anything, which was why her head began to throb before they even touched down in Las Vegas.

“Here,” a voice said from above her. Y/n was supposed to be answering emails and prepping for all the appearances Harry was supposed to make before the jet landed, but she decided to close her eyes. Just for a few minutes. Not that anyone would’ve noticed, anyway. The boys were all hanging out in the back of the plane, and Natalie, Zayn’s assistant, was watching the boys to make sure they didn’t get into too much trouble. All the assistants took turns when the boys of One Direction were in a confined space together; tag teaming just seemed the fairest deal.

When she peeked an eye open, though, she was surprised to see Harry standing beside her seat, a mug in his outstretched hand. Smiling, she took it, watching through tired eyes as he sat down across from her. He was in a red flannel shirt, though it was hardly buttoned, and the black skinny jeans he’d taken to wearing almost the entire tour. He had multiple pairs, all the same exact brand and style, just in case one ripped. Y/n would know. She had to race all over Manhattan when that very nightmare happened and Harry didn’t have any backups. Now there were at least four in his suitcase at all times. And an extra one in her backpack just to be safe. Harry swore the bag that followed her everywhere was made of magic because her whole life—and his—was nearly placed in there. But Y/n knew it wasn’t magic, she was just prepared for everything.

“I told the boys we’d be on our best behavior while we’re here. Just for you,” Harry said, giving Y/n his most innocent grin.

She’d seen that grin too many times to believe him, but the sentiment was nice. He and the boys were never menaces to her or the other assistants per day, but their antics did make her life more difficult depending on what they got up to. “That’s sweet of you.”

“I’m a sweet guy,” Harry said with a grin. Then with a nod toward Y/n’s phone, he asked, “Who’re you texting over there?”

“I’m not texting anyone. I’m sending emails,” she said.

“What? Even while we’re in the air?” he asked incredulously. “Do you ever not work?”

Y/n grinned. “Of course.”

“Well then put the phone down and talk to me. I feel like I've known you forever but I don't actually know you” Harry said, and it sounded like he was almost whining.

Y/n looked up from her phone. Harry’s eyes were pleading as he leaned forward in his seat. She was honestly a little surprised that he was so insistent that she talk to him. He was always nice of course, and they’d had brief conversations that didn’t involve work here and there, but Harry didn’t know much about Y/n personally. She kept her personal life private for the most part, for no other reason than she liked to keep things professional while she was working.

Setting her phone down, Y/n crossed her leg over the other and looked at Harry expectantly. "Alright. What would you like to know?"

"Do you have a boyfriend?"

Y/n choked on the tea Harry had given her. "That's the question you want to start with?"

Harry shrugged before leaning in playfully. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"No. To both questions," she answered honestly.

"Hm."

"Hm? What's that supposed to mean?" Y/n asked. She thought they were having a lighthearted conversation but Harry looked contemplative.

"Why not?" he asked, not answering her question.

Y/n ran a tired hand over her face. "This is starting to feel like an interrogation, Mr. Styles."

"Sorry, sorry, I don't mean to pry," he said, leaning back in his seat. The playful gleam in his green eyes told Y/n differently, though. "I just feel like you know a lot of intimate details about my life, and all I know is that you like cinnamon bagels and have an affinity for wearing black. And you always manage to wake up before I do, which just seems outrageous to me sometimes."

Y/n pondered what he said and supposed he had a point. She did know a lot about Harry's relationships, or the intimate details of his life he referred to based on his line of questioning. But it was her job to know. She made sure he was up and ready each day, she ensured that no one night stands overstayed their welcome or helped themselves to his clothes after he was gone; she was privy to his PR dates and the ones he wanted no one else to know about. Their... relationship was one sided, and Y/n didn't fault him for his curiosity.

"You know how I take my tea, and that I drink tea at all," she finally said, her voice light.

Harry smiled, as if he'd been waiting to engage in whatever game he'd been trying to play with her since he sat down across from her. "I noticed you reach for the tea packets whenever we fly."

"It relaxes me," Y/n admitted.

"Do you not like flying?"

Y/n shrugged, trying to act more casual than she felt. "It's mostly the takeoff and landing. I don't know it just...freaks me out a little. All the jostling and pressure and whatnot."

"You picked a strange job if you don't like to fly, I'm afraid," Harry said.

"Hence the herbal tea. I'd take something a little stronger if I didn't think you boys would do something the minute my eyes were closed."

"We wouldn't—I would never—You can take a nap around us, Y/n," Harry said, frowning as if he were truly offended by what she said. "I know we like to pull pranks or whatever, but we wouldn't. I wouldn't let them do that to you."

His sincerity was sweet, his gaze hard and imploring. Y/n didn't mean for their conversation to turn down this route but somehow it did, and she couldn't help but notice how angular Harry's features were when he looked at her like that. Protective.

Something light and airy unfurled in her belly that she pointedly ignored.

"I was mostly kidding, but thank you."

And just like that, the hard look was gone, the tense fog lifted. Harry grinned and reached in his back pocket, pulling out a deck of cards. “Play with me?”

“You don’t want to play with the boys?” Y/n asked, genuinely curious.

“I need to practice for this weekend, and they’re not good enough competition.”

“Oh, and I am?” she said. Y/n knew how to play cards, but she wasn’t any kind of pro.

"We're about to find out."

Harry set the cards on the table between them and split the deck to shuffle them. Y/n watched his hands as the cards shuffled between his long, nimble fingers. There were calluses on them now from learning to play the guitar. He was a couple months in, and he was already pretty good. Harry often played the new songs or chords he learned for her, eager to show his progress and knowing she wouldn’t judge him when his fingers slipped from time to time.

When he finally stopped, Y/n realized she’d been openly staring at his hands for a little too long. She snapped her head up, thankful that Harry hadn’t caught her staring. Shuffling around in her seat, she asked, “What are we playing?”

*.*

Later that night, Y/n was alone in her hotel room. One Direction’s performance in Las Vegas went off without a hitch, and the boys had hit the Strip to celebrate. Harry insisted she join them, promising a night she would never forget, but she declined. She had plans of her own tonight.

Finishing the last touches on her hair and giving herself one last check in the mirror, Y/n grabbed her keys and her purse. A knock on the door sounded, and thinking it was Natalie, Y/n rushed to open it. When she did, her eyes widened.

“Mr. Styles? What are you doing here?”

Harry was in fact standing on the other side of her door, a bottle of champagne in one hand and the same deck of cards they’d played with on the plane in the other. They'd played until it was time for landing. Y/n had a large pile of candy by the end of it—Harry had wanted to play with real money but Y/n joked she couldn't afford to play real poker with him. And as the plane started to descend, Harry switched seats so that he was beside her, offered his hand for her to squeeze until the plane finally touched down. It had been the most tension-free landing of the tour for Y/n, and though neither of them said anything about it, Harry knew she was grateful for him being there.

He looked sheepish now as he took her in, the realization that she was on her way out striking him as he saw her clothes—a pair of jeans and a black button down top that was only buttoned in the middle, and black boots to match.

“Sorry, I wasn’t feeling up for going out tonight, so I came down here to—but of course you have plans. It’s your night off, you’re allowed to—”

“Is everything okay, Mr. Styles?” you asked with a furrowed brow. “Did you need me to call a doctor? Run down to the pharmacy? I can—”

“No, I…I came here to—to play cards again, but if you already have plans I won’t get in your way.”

Y/n’s head tilted to the side, partly confused and partly endeared. Harry was a kind boss, but he’d never come to her hotel room to hang out before, especially when parties and liquor were guaranteed elsewhere. The time she spent with him was strictly professional.

“Natalie and I had planned to go out tonight,” she said, looking down at her purse.

Y/n didn’t often go out while on tour, but Natalie knew someone that could get them into some exclusive rooftop bar with discounted drinks. She hadn’t had a night off in a while and thought it would be a fun and responsible way to spend her time in Vegas. But now that Harry was here…

“I can cancel—”

“Don’t you dare,” Harry said, stepping away from the door. His eyes trailing up and down her body in a way that didn’t feel entirely professional. A look Y/n chose to ignore. “I should’ve asked you earlier.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you could always come with us,” Y/n said.

She wasn’t sure how Natalie would feel about that. Her friend had made it clear that she wanted a night away from the boys of One Direction so she could let loose a little. But she didn’t want to just leave Harry on her doorstep.

“No, no, you go. I’m not in a partying mood tonight,” Harry said, waving Y/n off.

“If you’re sure,” she said.

“I’m sure.”

“Next time, then,” she offered.

Harry smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Then, before she could say anything else, Harry fished his wallet out of his back pocket. He pulled out a couple bills and handed them to her. Y/n tried to protest, but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, making sure he watched her put the money in her purse. “And take my driver too. There’s a lot of creeps out there. Dominic will take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles,” Y/n said graciously.

“No problem, Y/n, and for the last time, it’s Harry.”

Y/n grinned as she let the door shut behind her. “Whatever you say, Mr. Styles.”

*.*

Y/n trudged through the halls of the lavish hotel, her boots shuffling tiredly across the carpet. She’d had a good night, but when Natalie and a group they’d met at the bar wanted to move onto a club, Y/n decided it was time to go. She had her fun, but she wasn’t the clubbing type, and she had to be up early the next morning.

And she couldn’t help but think about Harry sitting around in his hotel room all alone. She spent nearly every waking moment with him, and yet on her night off, she felt the need to go see him, be with him. Y/n enjoyed hanging out with Harry on the plane to Vegas. It had been the first time they’d interacted with each other in a non-professional way. He told her goofy jokes and playfully tried to peek at her cards, a look of genuine surprise when she beat him on more than one occasion.

For a moment, Y/n had actually forgotten that he wasn’t her boss and that she wasn’t his assistant. For a moment, they were just two friends going on a trip somewhere.

And for whatever reason, Y/n wanted to revisit that moment. She bypassed her floor’s button on the elevator, opting to press the one a few levels up from hers. The hall was quiet, which made sense if the other boys were still out. Harry told Y/n earlier that he wanted a quiet night in, but as she approached his door, she heard music and muffled voices from the other side. She had his extra key and would’ve been able to enter no problem, but when she made it to the double doors of Harry’s suite, she elected to knock. Maybe she should’ve left when she realized he had company, but she stayed, eager to see him for some reason.

It took a minute or two for someone to answer. With the music so loud, Y/n wasn’t surprised no one could hear her knock. She nearly gave up after knocking a third time, the door finally opened.

“Can I help you?”

It was a young man. A handsome young man with short brown hair and freckles over his nose and a deep skin tone. His eyes looked droopy, like he’d woken up just to answer the door. Or had recently smoked a joint. The latter was more likely.

“I’m Mr. Styles’ assistant. I just thought I would check in. He has an early morning tomorrow.”

“Oh. Um…He’s…busy?” the man said, clearly not wanting the fun to stop. “Should I get him for you?”

Y/n had never been in this predicament before. Sure, she knew Harry occasionally liked to invite someone into his hotel room for a night of fun, and this wasn’t the first time she’d found another boy keeping him company in this way. The first time that happened, Harry wouldn’t meet her eye for a whole day, but she never judged him for it, and she never said a word of it to him or anyone else. That was his personal business, not hers.

So the boy wasn’t what caught her off guard. It was that he was awake. Y/n always interacted with Harry’s one, sometimes two, night stands the morning after, equipped with a pen and an NDA, and possibly a sharp wit, depending on how reluctant the individual was to leave. But she’d never been in this position before, in the middle of it. She felt embarrassed, at a loss for words.

“N—No,” she finally said. “He just told me he wasn’t feeling well earlier. I thought I’d check on him before heading to bed, but…it seems like he’s feeling better.”

That’s and understatement, Y/n thought. She felt disappointed for some reason. She knew she shouldn’t have, but she really thought Harry would want to hang out, that he would somehow be waiting for her to come back, which was stupid. He had no reason to.

Y/n finally started to shuffle away, leaving Harry and his companion to his own devices. The door shut after the young man gave her a small smile and a wave, leaving her alone in an all too quiet hallway, the sounds of their voices muffled by the thin walls.

Sleep was in order. She knew that she was probably having an off day. Too much traveling, no doubt. Harry wasn’t her friend. She was his assistant, hired by his management team to make sure his every need and whim was met and sought to. Tomorrow she would wake up and remember that.

*.*

The next morning when Y/n stepped onto the plane, Harry was already seated in her little corner of the jet, a deck of cards, two steaming mugs, a multitude of snacks, and a big blanket were waiting. He didn't say anything about last night, so she didn't either. Not a word was said at all during takeoff, Harry merely offered his hand again, and when the plane was leveled in the air, he took out the deck of cards.

"Up for another round? This time Oreos are on the line so I'm less inclined to lose."

After that, plane rides weren't so bad anymore.

[bruciemilf]

Baby! Spider Socorro HCs (good parent Jake and Neytiri edition)

Called Jake “Mr. Silly” for the first 3 years of his life; That’s his name on all medical files, now. Mo’at calls him that when he’s being an idiot.

Often wondered through the jungle by himself. Max and Norm were often too engrossed in their work to notice the little bundle of energy and sunshine was gone, and that’s how Jake appointed himself as babysitter.

Pretended not to know trivial information just to have Spider explain it to him, and pretended to be impressed/shocked all the time. “Ikrans can fly?! No way!” “Pandora has stars at night? I didn’t know that!”

Contrary to popular belief, — Na’vi kids and teens love Spider; They play chase, hide and seek, make sure he doesn’t fall off trees, and give him jelly fish snacks when they see him.

After all, they can smell their Toruk Makto on him; It only makes sense.

All these gifts are taken straight to Neytiri. That baby is obsessed with her. He’s so shy and red cheeks and hides behind Jake’s legs when he hands her these presents.

To her frustration, it’s very adorable.

“Tiri? I brought you bebbies.”

She takes a very slow breath. “Berries.”

“And fishies.”

“Fish.”

“ yah ^^ they’re sweet ^^ from the pond ^^”

Slow breath in. Slow breath out. “…thank you.”

Jake brings Spider for dinner once. Then twice. Then once a week. Then, everyday. It’s become a pattern.

“Sweet,” he says, pointing to the fish he caught for them, tiny little things roasting next to the actual dinner. Jake smiles, “Yeah, honey, it’s sweet.” “Ha-ne?”

“It’s a term of endearment you use for people you love. Isn’t that right, honey?” He asks Neytiri, who’s cleaning knives and fixing him with a sweet look.

“Choke.”

Spider points to Jake, then to Neytiri, bright voice giggly, “Honey! Honey, honey honey.”

Someone get Jake a box of tissues that man is CRYING constantly. On his hands and knees begging Neytiri to let him keep Spider around. He’s so CUTE.

“Please?”

“He needs to be with his kind.”

“He HAS no kind. “

Baby Spider who’s barely bigger than Jake’s forearm, following him everywhere, trying to fish, hunt, fight, etc??? He so badly wants to be a mini Jake, gives that man baby fever fr fr

Refuses to get his hair cut; Everytime Norm brings it up, the little sunshine gets this unmoving look in his eyes. “I want to look like Mr. Silly.”

Drew his blue stripes himself; a powerful movement of compassion and strange affection hits Neytiri straight in the chest when she sees it. It’s then, she realizes, perhaps not all sky people earned her ire.

Made a shifty if not janky bow for himself. The string is too loose, the arrowheads are choppy, the wood too skinny. Neytiri takes it upon herself to fix it.

Fiercely protective Jake.

No, honestly, just turn yourself over to the RDA if you upset Spider in anyway. They’d be worlds kinder than him. Jake “try me bitch” Sully wouldn’t lay down belly up if his baby’s threatened

[aroaceleovaldez]

Nico Di Angelo headcanons?? (I hc he has cfs, that’s basically canon though)

He DEFINITELY has ehlers-danlos syndrome. Always cold? Poor circulation. Frequent fainting? Poor circulation and also poor nutrient/water absorption and etc. Weirdly pale? Semi-translucent skin + did i mention the poor circulation. Weird vitals? Can. Can you guess. (Poor circulation). Chronic fatigue? All his joints are subluxating constantly. He tends to stand/pose weird cause his joints all bend backwards/hyperextend and it freaks people out but he finds it kinda funny. Plus EDS has comorbidity with adhd and autism babeyyy it all works. somebody get this boy a pair of crutches.

Also Nico bruising like a peach is funny. He wakes up covered in bruises and just presumes ghosts are beating him up while he sleeps but no, he just has paper skin and glass bones joints.

The skinny jeans are strategical they're compressive and the only thing keeping his legs from dislocating constantly. That and the bone powers. The bone powers help a lot with the dislocating problems.

NICHE ROGUE DEMIGODS WORLDBUILDING THING: Okay so short version is something something i like to think rogue demigods go by nicknames often instead of their real names cause of the whole "names have power" thing. Some rogues pick their rogue name, others just kind of end up with one over time from people calling them something, whatever. Nico's main one is "Hound"/"Hound of Hades" cause he keeps wandering around with a pack of hellhounds and intimidating the daylights out of everyone. Also the rogues who are less scared of him joke about him being CHB/Camp Jupiter's dog, since he's one of the few rogues with direct loyalties to the camps. Nico thinks the name "Hound" is badass though so he rolls with it.

The jacket is both a sensory object (autism babeyyy) and because he is constantly mildly cold. He likes having layers.

In terms of sensory/clothing stuff, he prefers clothes that are too big or generally baggy on him. Because of this he is a notorious clothing thief when it comes to his friends. No jacket is safe from his clutches. His own clothes are big enough that the Argo II crew can steal from him right back though and it'll actually fit so it evens out.

He got all his emo inspiration from Thalia. She gave him her ipod in TTC for like 20 minutes to get him to shut up and that was a canon event that changed the trajectory of his life forever.

He regularly does little chores and errands for different deities and is generally friendly with a ton of them and will hang out with them and help with stuff. He may or may not have briefly been an Eye of Anubis, and may or may not have partially influenced how Anubis ended up goth (by transitive property, this means Thalia has made at least one god goth. There Will Be More). Other gods he often hangs out with (besides his dad) include Thanatos, Charon, Persephone, Demeter, and more.

He also has kept in touch with Eurytion and Triple G ranch to help out there sometimes and he dogsits Orthrus occasionally. Mrs. O'Leary and Orthrus are friends.

The idea of Hades/Pluto kids being allergic to mint because of Minthe is very funny to me.

[petew21-blog]

Best tutor ever

Jimmy, 23 y.o., law student

Jimmy struggled at university, because of his model side job. He really loved it, but he also wanted to be a great lawyer.

Eventually his parents found out. His father was furious and got one of the law professors Harrison to tutor Jimmy.

Although the professor didn't really like Jimmy, he helped him to get better. To improve. And eventually he found out that this young man, he assumed was just another jock, was a great young man.

They always went over the study materials and then had some bonding time talking about school, politics, their youth.

Jimmy eventually passed all exams needed. He went back to Mr. Harrison to thank him.

They went for a hug

Mr. Harrison:"Oh, Jimmy. I'm so happy. You're gonna be a great lawyer."

Jimmy:"Thank you, Mr. Harrison. You're the reason why I didn't fail. I would like to give you something. What would you like? A bottle of whiskey, vacation to Bahamas, new car? I think I owe you so much for helping me secure my future."

Mr. Harrison:"Slow down. You should only thank yourself. And do not give me anything. I'd desire to be young again as you to enjoy life, but that's not possible. So I'll at least enjoy helping young students like you to achieve their goals."

Jimmy smiled:"Ok, well I'll try to think of something"

Mr. Harrison couldn't sleep properly. It felt as if the night lasted an eternity.

He woke up the next morning. As he was used to, he would always rub his beard in the morning.

But while doing so, his fingers only traced a smooth face.

"What is this?"

His eyes opened. Something happened. He was still in his bed. But he felt different.

He looked at his arms. They were lighter, less hairy. But the skin looked tighter. He touched his left arm with his fingers and squeezed his stronger biceps.

Right at that moment, he noticed his fingers. They were longer, thinner. He knew his hands. He used them everyday at work, for everything. But these were not the hands he knew. They were younger. Different. There were no skin marks, the skin wasn't cracked. It looked young.

He looked down and noticed his lean chest. He used to be slim when he was young, but the stress from work made him gain weight and get that dad body. But this was a surprising change. His fingers traced his chest over the shirt.

Next was his belly. He was used to not be able to put some clothes over his belly. Not even being able to see his penis over it. But he even had ABS now!

He pushed away the covers. He uncovered his legs. He was so skinny now. The legs were longer than his. His legs were hairy

His knees didn't hurt. He was taken back by all of this happening.

He headed to the bathroom. He was surprised by a reflection of a young handsome man. He saw some resemblance with his younger self, but this body was different. He never had long hair.

He couldn't keep his new hands of his face, examining every part, every ridge of his face.

He still couldn't believe that this was happening. He was young again! His chin was so smooth! He was falling in love with his new appearenc.

He took of his shirt. His eyes fixated on his abs. On his nipples. His body had so many birthmarks.

He found his son's tighter shirt that would fit him better. Thanfully no one was home today. He would have a lot of trouble explaining how all ofnthi happened.

Even putting clothes on was a new surprisinf experience, it was so erotic for him to just brush over his body everytime he accidentally touched himself.

"I look amazing!" he said to his reflection

"Wow. This is my new voice. Hi, I'm Mr. Harrison. I'm young. I am young again!"

His phone vibrated. It was Jimmy.

Mr. Harrison:"Hello?"

Jimmy:"Hello there. How are you enjoying your new gift?"

Mr. Harrison:"Did you do this? How is this possible?"

Jimmy:"Don't worry about that. You wanna come celebrate with me? We could go to a beach to show of our bodies. You got long hair like me, don't you?"

Mr. Harrison:"Yeah. Well... ok. I think I'll go. But wait, Jimmy. What if I run into someone from my family?"

Jimmy:"Don't worry about it. I made sure that you'll get to enjoy everything. See you at the beach!"

Jimmy hanged up the phone. He went to his son's room and grabbed his swimshorts and a towel. He rushed down the stairs and took his son's shoes. He looked at himself in the mirror and smiled. He was ready to go, but someone spoke up behind him.

"Going somewhere?"

Mr. Harrison turned around to face an older man. He was wearing glasses, had a beard... fuck... he kind of looked like his old self. But not entirely. His eyes were different. His nose smaller. Almost as... Oh no.

Mr. Harrison:"Elijah?!"

Elijah:"Since when are you calling your father by his first name? You wanna tell me where you're headed?" He said as he sipped his morning coffee.

Mr. Harrison couldn't believe what he was seeing. His son was now old and he was young. "Beach... I'm heading to... the beach"

Elijah:"Are you ok, young man?"

Mr. Harrison:"Yeah, sorry. I... have to go... I'll be home soon. Bye."

Elijah sipped his coffee again and dialed a phone number.

"Hey. Haha. Yeah, we talked. He's confused. But don't tell him yet. Let him be confused for a while. He doesn't need to know we made a deal. He really deserves being young. Oh and try to get him to experiment. You know, he never got the chance to explore his sexuality when he was young. Ok, great. Have a great day, Jimmy."

Another anonymous story from Inbox 😊

What about a story were a really geeky teacher/professor ends up tutoring a kid and as a reward the teacher/professor is tranformed into a person the kids age.

Screenshots directly form the short f2m body swap movie on YouTube: Soliloquy of Morgan. Check it out :)

[wrr000]

"Can you be quiet for five minutes?"

AN: hello! i wrote this for fun, it's nothing serious or special, i just needed to do something with myself. hope y'all will enjoy it anyway lol (also, i had that one scene from shrek 2 in mind)

»»————-　♡　————-««

Summary: the night wasn't peaceful for the ghoul because reader talks too much

Warnings: english is not my first language; reader is female; it was supposed to be more of a comedic oneshot; a lot of inner thoughts

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

The night was getting cold. Chilly air mixed with the pleasant warmth emanating from the fire, touching your red cheeks. It was a nice feeling, especially after a whole day of walking in the brutal heat. The sun was killing you and the night was a nice change.

'I fucking hate wasteland', you thought to yourself every day.

Burning sun, disgusting monsters, crazy raiders or even that ghoul, literally everything could kill you any minute. It was hard to survive out there alone ans you knew that. Maybe that was a reason why you didn't ran away from him yet.

"So...", you couldn't stand the silnce anymore, "are you gonna finally untie me?"

You sat by the bonfire with your legs pressed to your chest, staring into the sparkling flames. Hands still tightly tied, of course. The other end of the lasso held the ghoul whom you met a few days ago.

He was sitting on the other side of the fire, leaning against a huge piece of something wooden. He looked like he was sleeping with a cowboy hat covering his face. The ghoul wasn't like anyone you've met before, but you weren't sure if it was a blessing or a curse. He did tied you up after all and have gave you no choice, but to travel with him to God-knows-where. On the positive side - he didn't killed you. And that was something unexpected.

"Hellooo..? Did you hear me, Mr. Ghoul?", you never called him like that before, but you wanted any interaction.

No response. Was he really sleeping or just pretending that he didn't hear you?

It was in his style, to be honest. Ever since you met him, he seemed cold, selfish, like he doesn't care about anything else in the world but him. Sometimes straight up annoying, sometimes kinda funny and nice in a twisted way. These mixed feelings made you somewhat intrigued.

"Listen lady" , he didn't looked at you. "I need some peace and quiet so no stupid questions or talkin', got it?"

"Oh, come on! We have been travelling for days! I'm not gonna do anything stupid", it was this time when he was just annoying as hell.

"I bet you won't, sweetheart", you knew he smirked under that stupid hat.

"So what, are you gonna keep me like this to what? Sell me for chems? Or eat me one day?", you spoke once again. "You know, both options are pretty problematic for you because, I mean, you are really planning to sell skinny, dehydrated girl and hoping for decent payment?", fake scoff escaped your mouth. "Keep dreaming. I am way more useful as a compa-"

By anything stupid you meant something like killing him or running away. First of all, he was very skilled and you knew that attacking him was suicidal mission. Second of all, you could try to escape, but you didn't know if it was even possible with this man and did you really wanted to?

On one hand, there were plenty ways for him to hurt you. Shooting, beating, selling, starving you to death or worse - eating you alive. It was something... common on the wasteland. People were doing everything to survive and as crazy as it sounded, you understood it, the ghoul knew it as well. But on the other hand, after raiders killed your parents, life became harder than before. You hated it and what you hated more was loneliness. You had none, no friend and no family left. Maybe it was delusional, but you hoped for befriending the ghoul and travel with him for a little longer. Or maybe he could help you made it to town where you could stay. In that situation you didn't have many options (it didn't work by force anyway) to consider or anything to lose, to be honest.

"Oh, for fu-", he straightened up, finally looking at you.

You didn't have many opportunities to meet him face to face and take a closer look. Beautiful eyes spoke more than thousand words, that's for sure. The most noticeable thing was the lack of a nose, but aside that the face was handsome. You could imagine how he looked like before the ghoulification. In fact, you always thought that people were exaggerating with their disgust towards non-feral ghouls. They were still humans, right?

"You asked me a milion questions already, while I couldn't ask you one", you heard the irritation in his voice. "You better don't cross the line"

That silence was overhelming. Sure, the sound of camfire was nice, but your thoughts were getting weirder and weirder. You needed something to occupy your mind and because you weren't the best at small talk (or starting a conversation at all) you came up with the stupidest idea.

Classic threating. You rised your tided hands, palms facing him in surrender. It wasn't the right time to ask about the future and you didn't wanna cross the line, at least not that night. He was looking at you for a moment, making sure you wouldn't ask anything else and returned to his previous position.

You stared at him, trying to figure out what he was thinking about and you couldn't read him. Not before, not now and probably not in the near future. He seemed like he could always read your mind while being completely unpredictable to you. What he thought about you? What was his plan? You should be very scared or just scared? Many questions were running in your head, but you couldn't find answer for none.

"What it's like to be a ghoul?", you mentally slapped yourself, but there was no turning back now. "I mean, how did you become a ghoul? It was quick or it was a long process? My parents never told me much about ghouls"

Deep, long sigh escaped his mouth. He looked at you again, not bothering to move his body. Even someone like him lacked words and strength for you.

"Did someone ever told that you talk so much?", a ghost of a smile crept across his face.

"Actually, yes, my father told me that once", you smiled proudly.

"No lesson learned", you quite enjoyed his harsh voice with strange accent. He definitely didn't talk enough. "Can you be quiet for five minutes?"

"Hm, I'm afriad no, Mister", then it striked you. "I don't know your name! I won't shut up until you will told me your name. Wait, you do have a name, right?"

"Yes", you felt annoyed again by his lack of cooperation.

"Well..? You know my name, even you don't use it, may I know yours?"

"Cooper", the ghoul hide his face under the hat again. "Now, let me rest for a while, will ya?"

Bright smile appeared on your face. That was what you called a progress. It was genuinely a cool name and suddenly you started to wonder if he liked yours.

"But...", you heard a growl from under the hat, "we will talk about what to do next? I know how things works out here, but... We don't have to be enemies. I know you want to survive and I don't wanna be your prisoner forever"

You were on thin ice and for the first (and not last) time in your life you couldn't gather your thoughts. You wanted to tell him a lot of things in one go.

"I'm not your enemy, sweetheart, you don't have to worry. Now sleep or I'll have to shoot that pretty face"

You noded quietly. You knew that tomorrow you would try to talk to him again, still hoping for some sort of cooperation or agreement. Your life was on the line, after all. Not to mention that he called you pretty and even another threat couldn't take it away from you. Maybe that was the sign that he doesn't mean no harm to you, there was a hope, at least.

[autisticlenaluthor]

Lena

TW: mentions of drowning, dissociation, 4-year-old Lena in intense distress, and witnessing a dead body

The sky above the lake is painted black with a heavy brush– cut through only by the gray clouds rumbling above it. The moon, which used to be so clear, now hides behind the fog. It pokes out every so often to make the smallest of appearances, reminding Lena it’s still there.

At night the trees, all tall and stocky, look more like people than plants. They’re skinny giants with lanky limbs and their eyes are stuck on the little girl standing at the shore. It’s all Lena can seem to think about– how the air is so cold and her mom isn’t holding her anymore. She’s alone again as they watch her, waiting for the right moment to pounce. 

Her mom always tells her monsters aren’t real. She checks the closets and under the bed every night before bedtime just in case. She always tells her they’re safe.

But the glimmering water they spend every Sunday dipping their toes in just swallowed her whole and sucked up all the air bubbles with her. The waves they paddled in together under shining skies had turned dark and suddenly, the world was upside down. 

The lake was their spot. The water belonged to them. And now, her mom belongs to the water. 

Lena stares straight ahead of her, as she’s done since the sun was still shining, and holds pieces of her swimsuit in her fingers.

The material is mostly dry now. It hangs loose on her body– the damp spots making her shiver whenever they meet her skin. Mom had told her she would grow into it. Lena isn’t sure. 

She isn’t sure that the trees won’t come to life and finally attack. Isn’t sure she’ll ever be able to move again. Isn’t sure if any of this is real at all or if it’s just another bad dream she needs to wake up from. 

Lena hopes it is. She hopes her mom is at the other end of it– ready to pick her up and rock her back to sleep. 

As Lena tries to find the strength to pull her swimsuit away from her, she can hear something crunching behind her. It sounds like footsteps in the gravel only louder. It makes her wonder if the Monster Trees have decided to come for her– if they think she isn’t aware of their plans to take her too.

“Hey!” A deep voice calls out to her. “Hey, are you alright?” 

More footsteps approach. They’re shining a light now too – a big one. It makes Lena shiver even harder and her stomach twist. When did it get so cold? 

“Hey– kid.”

Slowly, Lena turns her head and wrinkles her eyes at the white beams hitting her. There’s an ambulance in front of her– over by the edge of the trail. It looks like the ones that sometimes drive by their cottage, to the house at the end of the road where Mrs. Porter lives. Mom says it’s because she’s so old, she gets sick very easily now. Sometimes, she needs help making it to the doctor. 

“Hey…” The voice softens. 

Lena squints at it– the light is getting unbearable– and tries to step backward. But her legs have forgotten how to move and the stones beneath her are so slippery. She stumbles in her haze and her feet slide beneath her. She falls hard onto her bottom. 

A noise escapes as Lena looks down at herself. Her fingers dig into the sand, grasping piles of pebbles and sea glass.

“It’s okay– I’m not gonna hurt you.”

But it does hurt– her legs and her arms and her eyes and everything else. There’s pain shooting through her hips– the rocks are so hard. And as Lena’s fingers tighten around the pebbles, cutting deep into her skin, she can feel her face getting hot. Her jaw clenches and quivers beneath the tension so hard it feels like it might snap in half. 

She should be crying, Lena thinks to herself. 

It hurts worse than it did when she fell off her scooter in the street last week. But the tears don’t fall. It’s like her brain can’t remember how. 

“Oh… sweetheart, you okay?”

When Lena looks up, she sees the man with the voice crouching down in front of her. He’s wearing big green pants and an orange vest that glows in the dark. They crinkle when he moves– like plastic bags being smushed together. 

“Are you cold?” He asks, holding out a silver square for her. When Lena doesn’t move, he unfolds it and it transforms into some sort of tin-foil sheet. “It’s okay– you can stay there. I’ve just got a blanket in case you’re chilly. Sound good?” 

Lena releases her grip on the pebbles and stares at him. 

Even in the darkness, it’s clear how pale she is. Her face is ghastly and white– it’s as if it’s never seen the sun before.

“My name is Kieran,” the man continues. “I drive that big truck over there with my friends. I’m just here to make sure you’re alright and to give you some help.” 

He waits for a moment then slowly approaches. Kneeling down at Lena’s side, he drapes the blanket over her shoulders. It’s thin and crinkly like an old sheet– laid on so softly it hardly touches her.

Goosebumps are covering her arms and legs. She must’ve been out here all day, he thinks. 

“Here, kiddo… just want to warm you up a bit. We don’t want you catching a cold, do we?”

The blanket is big enough that it wraps around Lena’s front and falls behind her in a bunch. Lena glances at it for a second then looks back at the man. 

Behind him, two other grown-ups are stepping out of the ambulance. They pull out something that looks like a tall bed on wheels with straps going across it. They look at her for a moment and pause, saying something to the other that she can’t quite hear. But they don’t go to her– they walk to the water. To her mom. 

“Hey,” Kieran says when he catches her looking. “Hey… can you tell me your name?”

Slowly, Lena reaches for the blanket, wishing she could pull it tighter. She tells herself to move and tries to remember how her arms used to feel before this morning, when they still knew how to follow directions. But they soon fall beside her, unable to hold the material for more than a second. 

“Were you here with your family?” Kieran asks. “With your mom?” 

Mom. Lena’s stomach twists at the word. It makes her feel like how she gets when she’s been sitting in the car for too long. 

She furrows her brow ever so slightly and the tiniest whine escapes her. Her head is hurting– it feels too tight.

Puzzled, Lena looks at the man. She stares at him with her knit brow and hard eyes, waiting for him to read her mind. 

“You’ve still got your goggles on, hun,” he says. He stays seated on his knee and tilts his head, smiling at her. “Can I take them off? Is that why you’re makin’ noises?”

When Lena doesn’t say anything, he extends his hand slowly towards her face. Vaguely, she can see it approaching. She knows she should flinch. He’s so much bigger than she is. So much bigger than her mom. But she can’t move. 

So she sits stoic as the elastic band pulls the hair that’s dried against it. It peels slowly away from her like a hundred bandaids being removed at once. But after a moment, Lena can feel a pressure around her forehead release. 

“That must feel better, aye?” 

Lena looks straight past Kieran at the other two grown-ups in green pants and orange vests. They’re still walking the stretcher down to the lake, talking to each other in hushed voices, muffled by the wind. They’re going for her mom, she thinks, they’re going to find her. 

“Oh… no, you don’t wanna see that,” Kieran mumbles. 

He catches Lena’s semblance of attention again and this time makes sure to keep it. 

He whisks her up into his arms with a grunt as he stands back up, and keeps her securely wrapped in her blanket. 

“You’re being such a brave girl, you know that?” He coos, settling her on his hip. “You’re so brave.”

He brushes a piece of damp hair out of Lena’s face as he speaks and smiles softly at her. She’s so light in his arms, bundled up in the tin-foil sheet made for someone three times her size. It engulfs her completely– leaving only her head exposed to the world. 

“It’s all gonna be okay, yeah?”

For a second, Kieran looks past her at his partners. They wade into the abyss, water sloshing onto the shore behind them. Through the darkness– it’s hard to see more than the glow of the orange vests growing further and further away. But as they lock the stretcher onto the edge of the shore, he makes sure to bounce Lena ever so slightly to turn her away from it.

“Do you like rhymes?” He asks her. “Or songs?” 

Lena tucks her chin to her chest and releases a long exhale. Her eyes are starting to sting from being held open all day.  

“Why don’t we do some songs?” 

He looks at her pale skin and the few freckles scattered across her nose. Her white chapped lips, cracked around the edges from being left out in the cold for so long, and the bags that hang below her eyes. And as the paramedics go deeper into the water, he watches how she stares directly below her, not looking at anything in particular, and takes in her green eyes. He tries to imagine what might be behind them– the memories of what she’s seen. The moment when her mother went under. The hours of looking and waiting for her to return, all alone in the frigid air, with nothing but a soggy swimsuit and goggles on her forehead.

She must’ve known she wasn’t coming back, he thinks. No kid could stand there for twelve straight hours and not know. 

“Do you like…” 

Kieran pauses for a moment, then starts to sing. 

“Theeeee wheels on the bus go round and round,

round and round,

round and round.” 

He bounces Lena gently to the rhythm as he goes through the lyrics, his words hardly above a whisper. It’s just loud enough that Lena will hear him, just loud enough that she’ll have something else to focus on. 

“The wheels on the bus go round and round,

all through the town.

The wipers on the bus go–” He stops for a moment and gives Lena a poke. “How do they go?” 

She continues to look past him with her empty stare as he fills in for her and rocks her from side to side to show the motion.

“Swish swish swish

 swish swish swish,

The wipers on the bus go swish swish swish,

All through the town.” 

“What comes next?” He asks her. “Is it the babies on the bus? What do the babies on the bus do?”

In the distance– there are red and white lights poking through the trees. The first true signs of another ambulance coming to take back the woman in the lake. Lena’s mother. 

But Kieran keeps going with the song, even when Lena looks away from him. Even when she stares at the lights with more awareness than he’s seen from her all day. He just turns her around again and finds another rhyme, another story, another anything to keep her with him. 

“You’re alright, darlin’,” he says. “It’s all gonna be alright. We’re gonna take you on the truck in a minute and my friends are gonna check you out– make sure you’re not sick. And then you’ll get some stickers and you’ll get to turn on the big lights if you want. But it’s all gonna be okay.”

Lena doesn’t know if she believes him. She wants to. But everything is so wrong. 

“Now… let’s do another song,” Kieran thinks aloud. “That always helps my little girl when she’s feeling scared.”

He adjusts Lena in his arms, takes in a breath, then starts again. 

“Hush little baby don’t say a word,

Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird”

No, this isn’t right. 

“And if that mockingbird don’t sing…”

Lena can feel her face getting hot. There’s something sharp in her throat– her belly is twisting again. 

“Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring”

Her face is wet now. Silent tears creep from her chapped eyes for the first time all day. They make her cheeks burn with irritation and she wants to rub them– no, she wants her mom to wipe them dry the way she had this morning when Lena bumped her knee jumping off the sofa.

“And if that diamond ring is brass, 

Papa’s gonna buy you a looking glass”

Lena can see herself back at home– sitting in bed with her comforter bunched up around her chest. She can see her eyelids drooping, see her mom’s hand holding hers, trailing her thumb across her wrist, as she sings her to sleep. 

“And if that looking glass gets broke,

Mama’s gonna buy you a billy-goat”

Lena sees it so vividly she can almost feel it. Her fluffy pink pillow beneath her head, her teddy bear tucked under her arm, and her mom kissing her forehead as she allows sleep to gently embrace her. 

This isn’t right, Lena thinks. Her mom is supposed to be here. She’s the one who should be singing. She’s the one who should be holding her. 

Lena’s breathing increases rapidly. She squirms in Kieran’s grasp– she wants to be put down. She wants to go home. She wants her mom. She wants her now.

With a whine, Lena turns her head and tries to wriggle out of his arms. 

But what she sees behind her– it makes her freeze all over again. 

The grown-ups in orange vests are out of the water. They’re wheeling the tall bed back towards the ambulance and there’s a woman on it. Her mom. Her mom is on the bed.

Lena whimpers. It can’t be her mom.

This woman is soaking wet. Her orange hair looks black– it cascades over the side of the stretcher, stringy and thick, all clumped together, dripping onto the beach a thin dark liquid, which leaves a trail behind it. This woman lays there on her back, frozen and still, like she should be sleeping.

But she isn’t. Her eyes are wide open.

Lena makes a noise and tries to lean away from Kieran. Her heart is starting to pound– she can hear it in her ears. Big and loud like a drumline, drowning out the sounds of everything else. 

“Hey– hey, come back to me.” 

The older man’s voice is foggy and distorted. 

Lena sniffs as she leans further. She just doesn’t understand it– how her mom could turn so white and why her lips are so blue. It isn’t right– it isn’t her.

Her mom is supposed to be pretty like a princess. She’s supposed to be gentle. But now, she looks like the monsters Lena’s always been so afraid of. The ones she saw that night on the telly when she was meant to be sleeping and crept into the living room while her mom was watching a movie. She’d caught one glimpse and sprinted right back to bed so they wouldn’t be able to catch her, then hid under the covers, shaking, until she fell asleep. 

Lena sniffs again, whining through her fast-paced cries. 

Her mom is a monster and still, Lena wants to run to her. She wants to throw herself on top of her frigid body and shake her until she wakes up. Until she’s no longer sleeping with her eyes open like she’s frozen in time, paralyzed in the last second of her true existence twelve hours ago. 

Lena wants to hug her. She wants to bring her back to life. She knows she can– she knows if she could just be allowed to try, she could do it. 

So she fights with all she has to once and for all, throw herself right out of Kieran’s arms. She hurls her body forward– determined to run to her Mom one last time. She’s going to get to her. She’s going to fix her. She knows she can– she knows it, she knows it, she knows it. 

But Kieran’s too strong. He pulls Lena back and holds her even tighter, turning his body around again so she can’t see her anymore. 

He says something to her– something that’s supposed to be reassuring. But Lena can’t hear a word. 

Her fast-past cries turn into screams and she opens her mouth as wide as it will go, wailing with all her might. She sobs over Kieran’s attempts to calm her down, kicking her legs with all she has because if she’s hurting– he needs to be hurting too.

It’s gut-wrenching to watch. 

The cold air burns Lena’s throat and sears through her chest. Her cracked lips finally split from being open so angrily and each scream pounds in her temple upon its release. Her body is too tired for such emotion but Lena doesn’t care. None of it matters anymore. Her mom is gone. Her world is gone. 

So Lena does the only thing she can do– she cries. Even when snot bubbles from her nose and trails down onto her lips. Even when drool drips from her mouth, down past her chin. She cries so hard that Kieran thinks she might make herself throw up. He freezes a bit when Lena gasps for air with a heave so intense her entire body lurches upwards. Her shoulders shoot to her ears and her face scrunches up.

But all that follows is an even heavier sob. 

They get heavier and heavier until Lena’s entire body is shaking. Her screams grow raspy and strained– her vocal cords shot from the effort. 

Kieran tries to calm her down. He talks to her and rocks her, tightens her blanket then loosens it again– anything to make her more comfortable. 

But nothing works. Lena is utterly inconsolable. 

Behind them, the woman’s body is loaded into the rig. The crunching sound from earlier returns, only quieter this time, when the ambulance leaves to take her to the morgue.

Kieran tries not to think about what’ll happen afterward. When the autopsy is done and Jane Doe is identified– a social worker will have to decide what should happen to the little girl in his arms. They’ll place her in foster care or if she’s lucky, with a distant relative. Perhaps a grandparent.

At some point, one of his teammates approaches him, holding a small ratty backpack patterned with mermaids. They tap him on the shoulder to catch his attention. 

“We found this over by the benches,” The other paramedic says. She shines a flashlight on the tag on the inside, which is written on in neat cursive. “The name inside says Lena. Think it belongs to her?” 

“Lena…” Kieran says softly, shifting the distraught child in his arms. “Are you Lena?” 

Through her wails, Lena manages a nod. She gasps for air a few more times, her shoulders shooting up with each breath, then lets out a crackled whine.

“Oh, hun, it’s gonna be okay,” Kieran tells her. He rubs her back and tries to smile at her– not allowed to show that he wants to break right there with her. “Let’s get you checked out in the truck.”