#my white lady instincts are tingling

[gummywurm-gaming]

This morning I watched a review/overview of carnevil made by Bexx Reviews (great video I recommend it!) And I instantly fell in love with the broodles so I had to draw one <3

Fingers there bc I don't want to doxx myself lol

[elfy-elf-imagines]

— Elven Instinct | Legolas Greenleaf *✧･ﾟ

▹ Pairing: Legolas x Reader

▹ Genre: Fluff

▹ Words: ~2.1k

▹ Summary: When you know, you know. There's no other way to explain it.

▹ Note: I listened to Margaret by Lana on repeat while writing this, 10/10 recommend. Also, unedited because it's 2am and I want to SLEEP.

You’d met Legolas early spring when the winds were still bitter and the frost was beginning to melt. 

The moon was high and the chatter was mellow, the defeat of Sauron still fresh in everyone's memory. He’d been wearing his ceremonial armor and you a white dress. The jewels you wore shimmered like stars and your eyes shone like moonlit water. A human woman from a minor noble house, you never expected catching the eye of the elven prince that helped save the realm.

Legolas’ eyes followed you intently, entranced by your sweet voice and the slight creases around your eyes when you smiled. It had been three times your eyes had met and after the third time, Legolas found the courage to approach, downing his glass and leaving it behind. His hands trembled and a lump formed in his throat, but he’d kick himself later if he didn’t try. The pathway to you seemed miles long, the rest of the crowd blind to Legolas; it was as if a single light was guiding his way to you. His blood rushed and his heart raced; tingles lit his body up.

It was no shock when Legolas was a few feet away. You noticed him approaching, of course, you were entirely too aware of him and his lingering eyes. Liquid courage was found in a glass of wine that was sweet and tarte all at once. The alcohol caused your cheeks to flush but you knew the prince's presence would make them flush brighter. The alcohol would be a good excuse for the blush you’d soon have.

The noise in your mind grew hush once the elven prince stood before you. He smelled warm and fresh, well groomed and oiled with a hint of a woodsy scent. The smoothness of his features were nearly off putting, but the shy grin on his face was anything but unnerving. The tips of your fingers fiddled with the fabric of your dress and Legolas’ hands were clasped in front of him. Nervous and awkward, neither of you were sure how to proceed.

It was silent for a moment, replaced by the fumbling of the two of you speaking over each other. With the realization, the words were cut short and silence fell over the air. Your eyes fell to the floor and your teeth worried your lips while Legolas’ cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. 

“Apologies, my prince--”

“I insist my lady, you first--”

Another bout of silence. Neither of you could remember how casual conversation worked. You peeked at him through your lashes, a small giggle slipping past your lips. It made Legolas ease his stiff posture, melting into the sound of your voice. 

“May I have your name, my lady.” He couldn’t recall being so shy when speaking with a woman. All the confidence age and skill brought was drained from his body; he was an elfling fumbling over his own feet.

“It is Y/N. I would ask for yours, but I believe that question is redundant.”

“Am I so well known?”

Your grin widened in a way that would make your mother grimace. 

“One of the heroes who saved Middle Earth and the son of the King of the Woodlands?” There was a hint of teasing in your tone, lips curled into a slight smirk. “I perhaps heard your name a time or two.”

Legolas laughed, eyes shut and head slightly tossed back. A stray ray of light hit his head, illuminating him with a halo above his head. “I suppose my reputation does precede me, but I feel like we’re standing on uneven ground. You know more of me than I do of you.”

Some of the nerves that made you feel fluttery and sick began to disappear. His easy and smile and comforting aura felt as same as the childhood nativity you clung to. He put stars in your eyes in a way no one else ever had.

“I’m afraid my life is dull in comparison to the other attendees of this party.” 

The half smile on Legolas’ face contorted into a much softer appearance. Eye bright and voice low, it sent shivers down your spine.

“I dare say you are more so memorable.” 

Your lashes fluttered and your breath got caught in your throat. Subtly, you pinched the side of your thigh, sending a prayer of gratitude to whatever god led you to this moment. A shy giggle bubbled from behind your closed lips. Emboldened from the haze the wine created, you leave a feather light touch over Legolas’ shoulder. 

“A bold statement considering you’ve hardly known me a day.���

Legolas smiled at your quick retort, leaning towards your body, his head tilted down to see you better. 

“They say an elves' instincts are never wrong.” 

You raised a single brow in response, a coy smile tugging at the corner of your lips. All thoughts of formality and proprietary thrown out. 

“And your instincts say I’m memorable?” 

Legolas paused for a moment before continuing.

“Well when you know, you know.”

Unsure of how to react, a small bout of laughter left your mouth. The rest of the night was spent with Legolas at your side. Even as nobles singing his praises and vying for the favor of an elven prince, Legolas never strayed too far. With a polite smile and nod of the head, he would quickly dismiss the well-wishers in favor of returning his attention to you. 

The night passed far too quickly, and with the blink of an eye you found yourself in the isolation of your room with your blankets pulled to your chin. Behind your closed eyes, your thoughts and dreams were nothing but Legolas and a life you were certain was too far from your grasp. 

---

The crisp spring air was traded for balmy, long summer nights. The world began to return to normal, all that Mordor and Sauraman destroyed slowly being rebuilt. The coronation of the king was approaching, the heroes of Middle Earth lingering in Gondor, including Legolas.  

 You hadn’t spoken since your first meeting, but he was everywhere you looked. Walks through the city, visits to the Keep, or wandering through the gardens; it didn’t matter where you were, he was everywhere. To his credit, he made it seem as if he was a subject of fate and not the mastermind setting the chess board. 

And the board was currently being reset in a small nook overlooking the city. The queen sat in front of a stone table with a book while the king lingered around the edges, unsure of how to approach. 

“I began to think you were a ghost I’d imagined.” You spoke quietly and wet the tip of your finger. Flick. Your eyes began to scan the new page of your book. 

From the corner of your eye you saw Legolas take the free chair directly across from you. His hands rested on the table, fingers intertwined. 

“Why’s that?” 

A slight smirk appeared on your lips, barely visible over your book. Finishing the sentence you were reading, you shut the book and set it on the table. Eye to eye, you took in Legolas’ appearance. His casual leathers had been traded in for formal attire, a delicate silver circlet resting above his brow. Gods did he look beautiful. 

“You seem to be everywhere I am, yet this is the first time you’ve approached.”

Legolas stared at you a moment; a slight furrow of his brow in response to the tilt of your head and sly grin. “I approached you at the celebration.” 

“The first and only time, if we don’t take this moment into consideration.” 

Legolas narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, a grin pulling on his puzzled expression. 

“You seem perfectly capable of starting a conversation and entirely aware of when we were in a room together.” The implication of his words weren’t lost on you, a slight flush betraying your embarrassment. You were entirely too aware of him. 

“And how improper would that be?” You feigned a scandalized appearance, lightly swatting Legolas’ hand. “A minor noble woman approaching an elven prince? My mother would die from the embarrassment that scandal would cause.” 

Legolas laughed; a short and sweet one that made his eyes turn to crescents. There was a flutter in your stomach and a misbeat of your heart. For a moment your eyes glazed over, not aware what Legolas was saying if he was speaking to begin with. He looked entirely too beautiful, his eyes too blue to be natural. Elves were supposed to be supernaturally beautiful, but none of the other elves wandering the keep were as beautiful as him.  

“Ahh.” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, the sound pulling you from the spell he cast. “How foolish of me to overlook that detail. In the future I will be sure to start all conversations, lest the public get the wrong idea.” 

“A relief to hear you have agreed to stop silently stalking me. And they claim chivalry to be a dying behavior.” You rolled your eyes, the grin on your face dulling any snark in your words. 

Your eyes returned to Legolas, the easy silence hanging over the two of you. The air was calm, sans a nervous fog over Legolas’ eyes. What was there to be worried over? The war was over, Sauron was defeated. You tried to remember what could be a cause of worry, but your mind came up empty. Even the remaining orcs were being hunted down and slain.

“But I’m sure that reassurance isn’t why you’re here.” You broke the silence, Legolas’ attention snapping back towards you. “What worried you?” 

“I am to return home soon.” 

Your mouth was parted, unable to hide the disappointment on your face.

“Oh.” The word was uttered so quietly you weren’t certain it was actually said. Of course he would go home, he’s a prince with duties to his people. It’s not as if there would be anything to keep him here after the King’s coronation next week. 

“I wish you a safe journey.” 

The tips of your fingers tapped against the smooth stone. 

“You mistake me. It is expected of me to return home shortly after Aragorn’s coronation, but I am unsure if it is what I want to do.” 

A slight furrow of your brows betrayed your confusion, but before you could open your mouth, Legolas continued to speak. 

“We have not spoken nearly as much as I would’ve liked during my stay here, a predicament I understand to be a making of my own, but I--” He cut himself off, eyes lowering to the ground as he shook his head. 

Oh.

The realization came with a bright red hue painting your cheeks. All this time, you never once considered the elven prince had affections for you. Each time you’d been in the same room, same hall, or same street, it never occurred to you he was building the courage to speak with you again. Had your first meeting had such an effect on him? Could he possibly get as fluttery and nervous as you do?

“I would like the chance to get to know you, Lady Y/N, and in time perhaps court you.” 

Like a starstruck idiot, you stared at Legolas with wide eyes and parted lips. You could hear the blood rushing in your ears and in the distance there were birds singing, or maybe you’d just imagined that.

Legolas began to drum his fingers against the table, nervous eyes unable to meet yours. You’d been silent for too long, you realized. He may be getting the wrong idea. To assuage whatever fears were building within his head, you reached your hand out and placed it over him. It brought his attention back to you; wide eyed and flushed face he looked ages younger than he really was. 

“I would love for the chance to get to know you beyond the surface level.”

Like dawn brightening the landscape, Legolas’ face lit up. Any petty fears or worries were banished from his expression. He brought his free hand to rest it atop your other free hand. He squeezed your hand three times before pulling them away. After a moment you hear the soft pad of footsteps on the ground. 

A chair skids across the ground as Legolas stood from his seat, outstretching a hand towards you. “Perhaps the lady would grant me a walk through the halls?”

Gently, you stood from your seat, placing your hand in the crook of his arm. 

“Lead the way my prince.”

[missamyrisa2]

Miss Amy and the Product Test (Parts 1 and 2)

I was just thinking about this story and realizing that with my old tumblr getting deleted the only place part 1 exists is on dA. So here it is, with the second part added as well to keep it all in one post ~ and as usual I couldn't help but go back through and spruce up a few parts and add some additional hottnesssss~ <33

After the incident at the library, Amy was in serious trouble. Too many people knew her secret, too many were looking to exploit it. And when she overheard the maintenance crew outside her apartment talk of bringing the tools with extra soft quills, she decided it was time to get away for a while. The temporary job she accepted was a cinch – product testing for a cosmetics lab far outside of town.

Following the brief pleasantries, Amy’s mind was at ease. The company specialized in lipsticks and lip glosses. Except she wouldn’t be trying them on, other testers would be trying them and she would receive a kiss so that the reaction in her body could be measured. Unusual, but an afternoon of kissing seemed easy and non-tickly enough. Whisked into a pristine testing room, Amy was sat in a chair and waited for the rest of the group to arrive.

The footfalls of countless heels filled the hallway. Amy broke into a slightly uncomfortable smile. She didn’t expect a whole parade of ladies. One by one they filed in, all looking especially corporate save for three lab techs dressed in white coats. Amy sheepishly fingered her casual short-sleeved black cardigan, which sat atop a blank tank top with crimson flower patterns. She looked at skirts and business pants, then glanced at her girly jean shorts, topped with a thick black belt and a big silver flower buckle.

“Sorry I’m underdressed” She mumbled and blushed.

The ladies exchanged glances, suppressing grins. “Don’t worry yourself dear, it’s not as though we gave you a dress code. And…that outfit is actually perfect.” A woman in a bright pink blazer said, assessing Amy with a piercing gaze. Clearly the leader of the test, she began motioning to the techs and directed a perky blonde lady over to Amy.

“We’ll start with pink rose. Please relax and give us your honest reactions.”

“Wait, wh-mppph” Amy’s question was cut off suddenly by the woman placing a hand on her cheek and pulling Amy in for a deep kiss. Soft lips pressed to Amy’s, applying gentle pressure. Stunned, Amy took her kiss and raised her arms, then lowered them, shrugging her shoulders as the woman pulled back. Amy’s lips tingled slightly.

“Very good. Next is purple passion.”

“But I didn’t even tell yo-mmppphm“

Again, Amy couldn’t get a word in as the next tester came in from the other side, passionately kissing Amy. This woman was more assertive, sliding her tongue along Amy’s lips. Amy fought back her instincts, but her body couldn’t resist these affections. A long thumbnail grazed Amy’s cheek up and down lovingly as plump colored lips pressed over and over to hers.

Gasping, Amy trembled with forced pleasure as the woman reluctantly broke her kiss. A woman with deep red lips was instantly there, smiling and wasting no time to move in and catch Amy’s mouth. “Wait, hold on Iummmphhhh!” This lady kissed so affectionally, her lips rubbing and hugging, that Amy was pressed back nearly falling off her chair. A wandering hand casually stroked up and down her side, tracing the curvature of her body. Amy giggled through the kiss, blushing madly.

One after another, the ladies tested their colored lips on Amy. Kiss after kiss was administered, and Amy couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

Finally, with an especially buxom older lady Frenching Amy relentlessly, her nails holding Amy’s cheeks firmly so she couldn’t turn or budge, it seemed the final kisser was done. A lab tech offered to clean the smears from Amy’s cheeks and lips, swabbing around gently. “That was perfect Amy. You are exactly the test subject we’ve been looking for. Now we can get started.”

Amy’s eyes widened. “Wh-what? You just like, gang made out with me! What else is there to do?”

“Amy…did you read the contract?”

“Shite…” Amy once again found her stomach sinking.

“Clearly it states that this test is to measure reactions on various skin regions of the body. The lips are merely the preliminary test to ensure you are receptive to our product and methods. Now, try to relax.”

The lab techs whisked Amy over to a nearby exam table, which had a padded backrest to keep her sitting upright. Again, Amy was surrounded by ladies with especially luscious lips. Some made kissy faces, as others applied fresh coats of lipstick and gloss. The smacking of their lips was so tingly teasing it made Amy squeak. Amy’s mind raced. “Um, I think there is some legalise I need to consult with regarding the filibuster of gerrymandering porkbarrel legislation?”

“…What was that?” The pink blazer woman cocked her head to one side.

“I don’t know, I failed political science…”

A tall woman with a rosy red pair of lips approached slowly, grinning warmly and pursing her kissy tools.

“…and I was kicked out of mock trial for laughing at those words….”

Amy whimpered as the lips attacked her neck, kissing gently, brushing all along the tender skin. Amy clenched her mouth. Another woman appeared at her other side and began grazing soft blue lips over Amy’s collarbone, nudging her cardigan open. “Mmmpp….” Amy bit her big lower lip, trying to hold it back. No, I can’t let them find out. I just have to endure some necking, then we’ll be done. Oh pleeease get off there, please! Amy winced as the lips traveled up her jaw and back towards her ear. The other set was working down her arm, centering right on her inner elbow.

She shook her head back and forth, blonde hairs flailing about. The ladies, undeterred, began nibbling softly, sucking in Amy’s earlobe and inner arm flesh. It was impossible to resist. The lips were the worst tickle tools Amy had endured yet, unbelievably soft and penetrating, teasing and erogenous all at once. When she felt fingers tugging on the buttons of her cardigan, Amy bucked up in the table. “No please! I need a break!”

“Sorry Amy, but we’re on a tight schedule.” The leader pointed a short perky lady over, who flashed a pair of blindingly bright pink lips. “Glittered will be perfect right there.” A red dot fluttered around Amy’s midsection as the woman pointed her laser tool. The lab techs tugged open Amy’s cardigan, revealing a little slash of exposed skin between her top and shorts. Cool breath caressed Amy’s ear, and when a tongue grazed along her inner earlobe, her composure was lost.

Amy squeaked and squealed, and before she could even register that her control was gone, the glitter lips began brushing up and down her exposed midsection. “Nooohoohooo!!!” She burst with giggles, blushing deeply. The air hung in the room for what felt like an eternity. Like light bulbs igniting, one by one the ladies grinned. Their faces shifted to fill with lust, and an unmistakable intent to torture. “Not again…” Amy said softly.

“Is somebody…ticklish?” A squeaky voice perked up. “I think sooooo!” another returned.

The glitter lipped woman gingerly lifted Amy’s top and dipped in again. The other kissers watched attentively. Those teasing lips wiggled back and forth along Amy’s belly, kissing tenderly and blowing gently. Amy’s midsection bounced in protest, laughs tumbling out of her freely. When the kiss broke, a big pink smear was all down Amy’s tummy, diverting around her navel and ending on her side. As one lab tech took notes and examined closer, another produced a soft cloth and a swab.

Amy pleaded. “No no you don’t have to do that. Eeeeee!! It’s not necessaryyyyyyy” The cleaning of her tummy was almost as tickly, with soft tools brushing along her skin to wipe away the gloss and restore it to its pale sheen and triggering tickly explosions. Poor Amy bucked and wheezed on her table, trying to fight off the sensations. The next tester was already in place. “You need to relax Amy. Tension affects our readings.” The leader warned, directing the next tester over who seemed to have the same exact lip gloss as the last.

“Hey that’s the same one!” Amy squealed as her tummy inhaled deeply to try and avoid the incoming kissy lips. Despite trying to suck her belly inward, the tickly lips landed precisely in a sweet spot to the right of Amy’s bellybutton, just short of her side, straight up from her hip. “Nooo not there!!  Stop kissing! That, that…tiiickles too much!!”

“Why do you think I’m doin it?” The girl balked in a city accent, burying her lips in again, sucking in Amy’s ticklish skin and dancing her tongue along it. Amy kicked her feet and flailed her arms. Her midsection twisted and twitched. The kissing tickle followed her every move, landing again and again. The girl’s hands couldn’t help but tease Amy further, tracing along her beltline lightly during the kissing. And when it ceased, again measurements were taken, photos snapped, and that mean swab and cloth returned, ever so daintily cleaning away the residue. Every pass of the cleaning tools heightened Amy’s sensitivity, the cool air on her exposed belly even starting to tickle as the wet spots dried.

The next kisser buzzed her lips teasingly. “Hold still girly. This miiiight tickle!” She guffawed in a southern tone, zeroing in right to Amy’s twitching bellybutton. Amy screamed with anticipatory laughs, and gripped the table as big pouty purple lips descended. They sealed over her navel and paused for a scant moment before blowing loudly. Tears rolled out of Amy’s eyes as she was relentlessly raspberried.

“Not the zerrrberrts!!!” She cried, tummy trying to shake the woman away. But that only made it worse. Shiny red nails closed around Amy’s sides as the woman steadied her prey, her thumbnail tips grazing on the ticklish skin there. Amy’s back arched in response, her sides tenderly grasped, tummy covered in those big kissing lips as a wicked tongue began probing her interior crevice. The supple tongue tip dove deep inside, impossibly curling up to an especially ticklish little region in Amy’s upper inner navel. “Goooochie goooo!!” The woman pulled out to tease before diving back in, licking her lips teasingly.

The lips playing at Amy’s hyper-ticklish midsection sent wave after wave of intense tickling euphoria throughout her slender form. Under that cute top, her nipples crinkled in response. Goosebumps lit up her arms and legs. The erotic energy was too potent to fight. Under those little shorts, a fire was building and nothing would cease its progress.

A wicked smirk crosses the woman’s face as she decided to toy with Amy’s sides, brushing her lips up and down. Her mouth smacks over and over, leaving a bright purple streak. She nibbled and caressed the soft line of skin blowing softly between each unbearably kissy tickle attack. Though she bucked, squirmed, and flopped, Amy could not escape. Dimly aware of the continued warnings from the group’s leader, Amy hazily looked down to see the tech returning with the swab.

“Oh pleeease…please don’t clean!!”

The swirl of the swab in Amy’s navel is outrageously invasive, the tender fibers stimulating the whole cavern of tickles like an electric ball. The tech spent far longer than necessary swabbing Amy’s little belly button, as the ladies remarked about its cute shape. When the cleaning finally ceased, everyone watched as her poor navel continued to twitch helplessly, overloaded with tickly sensations.

A semblance of a fight left in Amy, she began to get up as a crimson lipped gothish girl appeared from the group. “Okay, I think we have everything we need here, so I’m just gonna nope right out of here.”

The ladies smiled warmly, blocking her escape.

“Yep, good job everyone. Yay! You did it! Team effort! Way to shift those paradigms!”

The gang didn’t budge, and when Amy tried to slip between them, her arms were seized and pulled back to the table.

“Oh Miss Amy, tsk tsk tsk, we are so far from done with you.” The leader said, wagging her finger back and forth.

The goth girl leaned in swiftly, catching the top of Amy’s shorts with her long blood-red nails. She tugged them down slightly, exposing the top curve of Amy’s hip bones. Amy barely had a chance to whimper before those evil lips landed, massaging in tight circles with pauses to lick playfully and nibble shamelessly. The helpless test subject howled with laughs, flailing and again trying to fight her way out. This time however, the gang grabbed her arms and legs, pinning Amy down.

“Neeee!!! Stop licking my hips!! That’s not what those are for!!”

“Might as well test some blush too!” A lab tech remarked, producing a big fluffy makeup brush and happily dusting pink powder into Amy’s rim and bellybutton as her hip was licked, sucked, and kissed. To keep Amy further on edge, the kisser alternated between hips, always switching when Amy’s hysterical laughs died down even the slightest bit. Each switch, she screamed anew, torso arching in furious protest, which was met each time with a daintily dancing blush brush.

“Tickly tickly blushy blushy!”

Her navel filled with powder and hips extremely red, Amy breathed deep. Hands lovingly twirled her long blondish locks, gracefully massaged her arms, and trailed along her outfit. The break was only momentary, as now double cleanup duty started. An absolutely wicked looking black feather duster was applied to clean out her blushy navel while the swabs returned to polish each hip in big rubbing circles.

“Gossssh!!! Ssssstoop iiit! You wouldn’t have to clean if you would stoppp kissing and blushing meeee!” She whined, pulling at the arms which kept her pinned down. The techs were completely unfazed, working busily with knowing grins.

“Okay Amy.” The leader started, looking over her notes and flipping a fancy gilded pen between her thumb and forefinger. Amy shuddered. Something about this woman was getting to her. The demeanor, the corporate style. The shiny pumps. That ultra-pink blazer, which she was unbuttoning slowly. “We’re going to move to a new test.”

“You mean like, I need a number two pencil?” Amy asked absentmindedly, eyeing her antagonist closely.

“No, you silly cute girl. We’re moving you to a better apparatus. And testing a new locale on your adorable body.” Amy stared blankly. The woman parted her blazer and revealed a shiny thick waist belt. Amy thrust involuntarily, her arousal levels spiking. The ladies didn’t notice as they had busied themselves preparing the apparatus. But their leader did. She locked eyes with Amy lustily.

Their moment was broken as the girls walked Amy over to the next site. Still looking at the mystery woman, Amy was positioned into a padded chair similar to what one would see in a dental office, albeit with long armrests. Her wrists were strapped down, her legs strapped to the end of the end of the chair. The lab techs lifted her top to ensure midsection exposure. Before Amy could come back down and prepare for the next wave, she was screaming with giggles and laughs as tickly kisses started raining down on her body.

She was kissed along her inner elbows. Kissed and tongued on her neck. Mouths brushed and nibbled her sides. One pair of lips gently nuzzled Amy’s lower belly. Another kissed each finger then began sucking them one at a time. Two kissers took each knee, licking and pecking along the perimeter. The goth girl worked her way back to the hips, landing kiss after tickly kiss on each. And one pair of succulent pink lips was leaning down between Amy’s legs, making out alternately with each thigh.

The flurry of kiss testing lasted less than a minute, but Amy trembled and giggled and shook for at least ten minutes after. Her body was buzzing with sensory overload, so overcome with sensual attention. Each tickle spot twitched endlessly. She didn’t even need to be strapped at this point, as she was entirely paralyzed by the flood.

“You….tickle meaniess…..” She whimpered, head lolling side to side. The ladies laughed collectively. The swabbing and dusting started anew. Amy feebly giggled and groaned, those soft little tools working their way along the same paths that had just been ravaged by glossy lips. “Seriously, ssstop cleaning meeee!”

When they finished, Pink Blazer stepped forth, hand on hip, and showed a visage of pure lustful intent.

“wha….? N—no….oh no, pleeease, don’t….”

The woman nodded assuredly as she reached for Amy’s shorts. “Oh yes, mm-hmm. Yes. Yes.” She carefully undid Amy’s flower-shaped belt buckle and pulled it loose. As she unbuttoned the shorts with agonizing slowness, great rosebuds bloomed anew along Amy’s cheeks and neck.

“No! Pleeease don’t do that…You don’t understand!”

“Yes. Uh-huh. I do.” She retorted matter-of-factly, ever so slowly tugging Amy’s shorts down and revealing a pair of polka-dot panties.

“Oh!”

Once again, the room was silent. The ladies looked on with cat-like curiosity. Pink Blazer’s eyes scanned Amy’s panties slowly, assessing the big swell within. Amy embarrassingly looked away, her body so visibly aroused.

“Well now, you’re just full of surprises Amy!”

She leaned down and began buzzing her lips along Amy’s pantyline. The swell quivered and bounced. The woman’s lips were even more tickly then all her minions. Those perfectly rose colored instruments blew and nibbled and caressed back and forth in long lines. The woman hummed softly with each kiss, sending vibrations along Amy’s ultra tender flesh.

“mmmh!!” Amy giggle moaned. “You’re killing meeeee!”

“Coochie coo Amy. All these special kissy tickles, all for you. I know you like this.”

“Unnnnnf! Ju-ju-jusssst! Jusss”

Words tumbled haphazardly from Amy’s mouth as she shook in her bondage. The woman smiled and caressed Amy’s belly, fingering her navel slowly as she leaned in again, grazing her lips right on the swell of the polka dot panties. The techs joined in, lightly dusting Amy’s hips with blush. A lady wrapped her hands around Amy's neck and starting kissing the back of it lovingly. Amy fought the sensual tickle assault as long as she could.

Which wasn’t very long at all, especially when wiggling index fingers began teasing her nipples through the fabric of the top and nails spidered up and down her sides. The swollen strain of Amy’s panties was at critical mass. Her hips thrust hypnotically up and down. She gasped and laughed and moaned. With one more kiss to the swell in Amy’s panties, she started bucking wildly.

“OOOOHHH GOSSSH!!! SPARKLES! FIREWORKS!” Amy’s giggling moans filled the room. “AHHMMMMPHHHH!” And were cut off as the woman caught Amy’s mouth and began kissing passionately. Amy was kissed, caressed, and tickled all through her coerced orgasm. The soft material held Amy’s organ tight, stimulating her with tickly strokes as she came, magnifying the sensation tenfold. Her princess part poking out, Amy’s surge landed along her pinkened belly. Amy submitted and kissed back, her tongue twining with the leader of the tickly kissy gang.

As the kiss broke, Amy fell limp, giggling limply before starting to mewl, pulling at her bonds begging non-verbally for more attention. The lab techs began cleaning up, eliciting new squirms and wiggles as the swabs and brushes cleaned up the discharge and new coats of lip product. She shook her head and whined out for the woman, kissing at the air now. The techs disregarded her begging and fixed Amy’s top and cardigan, slid up her shorts and buckled her cute belt. Sealed back into her outfit, body trembling as she came down from the high, the test subject began protesting anew.

“You’ve had your fun….can I go now?” Amy mumbled, going wide-eyed yet again as she watched the ladies wheel in a shiny mechanical contraption.

“That was just the preload, Amy!” The leader smiled. With clanking and electrical buzzing, the machine thrummed to life. A big pink smiling face appeared on the machine. Compartments slid open, revealing countless pairs of synthetic lips at the end of long coiling tendrils. Some of the ladies were passionately muah'ing into sensors on the machine, which was fed into databanks and allowed more copies of their plush lips to slide out.

“Now that we have sufficient data on you, we can load it into our kissing machine and get some real results.” The endless lips floated towards Amy, eagerly kissing and flicking their tongues. They locked onto various zones, descending towards Amy’s neck, lips, cheeks, collar, arms, elbows, tummy, chest, legs, and hips. “Don’t worry, she’s very gentle.”

Amy sighed. “I think I need to talk to an HR rep…”

Amy shivered and choked back a deep squeal of disbelief. The domineering leader of the cosmetics lab breathed excitedly behind Amy's ears, her hands closing on Amy's lightly exposed sides to hold her test subject lovingly as she cooed and licked. The machine trembled and floated closer to Amy as she sat firmly strapped to the exam chair. The smiling robotic face taunted Amy, making her whimper as its array of synthetic lips swarmed about.

"She's so excited to see you, Amy. She's gonna tease and taunt and kiss you just right on all your spots. Mmmhmm. All of them. We fed her all that data we collected on your cute frame." Her chuckles tingled on Amy's ears, forcing Amy to watch the machine approach and feel those pangs of helpless sensitivity. "You can struggle all you like. The lips won't be deterred." She held up a remote and pressed a button. With a cute chime, the first set of robotic lips began moving.

Despite the taunt, Amy did struggle. A pair of kissing lips floated towards her neck as if magnetically charged. Their stain was a passionate red, and made "muah muah" kissy sounds as they taunted Amy. Her belly twitched and her legs pulled uselessly as Amy desperately tried to avoid the incoming attack. With a gasping giggle, Amy's cheeks flushed pink and her body trembled feeling the soft affection planting right on her sensitive neck.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Nuuhhhh~ don't kiss meeee! I can't take any more! Turn it offf!!!" The machine cooed as the leader pressed the button again, and sent another pair of lips, this one a set of bright purple headed right for Amy's arm pursing in a most sassy manner. She yanked helplessly at her bonds feeling the impossibly soft brushing in her inner elbows. Amy laughed out, and released a snickering gasp when the lips began a nibbling routine up and down her inner arm. Her head was flopping side to side already, and the pair at her neck followed every motion.

"Oh yes, so many lovely kisses for you Amy. You're so adorable. You deserve all the kisses and loves." The leader brushed her own pink lips on Amy's cheek before stepping back to take more notes and observe her machine. She held up the remote to Amy and thoughtfully began swirling her tapered finger along the button. Amy shook her head no through gasping laughs. The chime pinged and a pair of dark crimson lips centered on Amy's tummy.

"Tummy tummy kissy kissies!"

Amy shrieked as the lips zeroed in on the exposed slash of skin between her shorts and cropped top. The lips sealed around her navel with a cool embrace and began a raspberry routine. "Gguuuhuuhu it can zerrrrberrrt?!" Amy struggled in shock, the rippling kissing tease pushing her into ticklish hysteria. Her toes curled and hips bucked in protest at this new attack. The lips were relentless, blowing over her twitching button, then popping off with a taunting sound before pausing to select a new zone and starting the process over. Her belly was quickly a mess of glossy smears, each set of impact giving Amy aftershock tickles.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Of course they can. These babies can do whatever I want. Aren't they just wonderful Amy? And you're getting to test all our newest shades. The ladies just love watching you, don't you girls?" The gang of kissing ladies lounged around the edges of the lab, giggling and chatting and cooing. Amy had nearly forgotten them, and blushed a deeper red realizing the weight of all their eyes on her new plight.

The leader struck one of those authoritative poses that drove Amy wild with wanting, continuing as she again drew her finger along the remote's button. "And when the lips find a particularly delicious spot, they will continue to kiss it and tease it so perfectly. They'll linger and coax out all your best sensations, like a sweet lover." With a beep, the next set of lips was summoned to torment Amy with tickly kisses.

"Muah, muah, muah"

"Whhaatt? This machine is ridiculous you're crazy just lemme gommmhpppphh" a pair of passionate purple lips found Amy's lips and ended her protests with a deep kiss. Amy giggled and slipped a moan through the kiss, her arousal starting anew. One by one all the lips began releasing their kissing only to return on the most tender electric zones they had discovered. The pair at Amy's arms nested in the crook inside her elbow. The set on her neck was nibbling  ever so lightly right under the jaw. The belly kisser found the spot right under her navel and was brushing upwards. The lips on Amy's lips began simply brushing their soft glossy surface on Amy's, and she could have soared into the ceiling.

"Quitititititquitit!! I can't I can't!! I'm too ticklish you're too kissy and these lips are toooo...lippy!! Lips mips gallups niiiiipsss!" The ladies chuckled knowingly as Amy started babbling into batty ticklishness.

The leader held up the remote once more. "Aaaaaamy" She held her finger to the button, faking out pressing it to make Amy squeak and writhe on the chair each time. Finally she chimed the machine again and a pair of naughty blueberry lips sprang forth to begin planting pecks on the underside of each toe. The blue prints drove Amy wild with tingles, a fresh set pressed into each and every toe before going back to kiss again in the crook of the whole set. And when they returned for a third pass to begin suckling on each toe, Amy was almost soundless save for her snickergasps.

"Muah, muah, muah"

The leader couldn't help holding the remote right to Amy's ear and chiming again quickly with a double tap. A matching pair of emerald lips quickly flew to Amy's chest and nuzzled up  under her tiny cropped top to hone in on the nipples. "Thanks for the suggestion cutie pie" More snickering gasps as her buttons were worked over with passionate teasing kisses. It truly did feel like a lingering lover, feeding on Amy's every reaction and drawing her deeper into tickled madness.

"Well would you look at that. You're a mess Amy." Amy wasn't sure how long it had been going on. She gradually became aware of the endless lip prints all over her skin. It felt like every bit of exposed skin from her outfit was being taunted with residual kisses. She could feel every kiss now. The lips hovered nearby, eagerly blowing kisses. Worse yet, some of them we lingering and blowing puffs of air on Amy's most tickled spots which made her squeal out in teased agony. That shining pink face never stopped smiling at Amy, just floating nearby to remind Amy of her plight. "Luckily, we have a routine just for this purpose."

With a new chime, Amy screamed a giggle. The lips began sticking out their synthetic tongues, floating back towards her overly teased and sensitized body. "Don'tttt!! You don't understand!! Well you do but I'm just sayinnn!!" Amy managed through her gasping laughing groans feeling the tongues licking up her body, right back on those hot spots. The tongues darted along her arms, up her neck, along her belly and beltline, down each and every toe, and swirled over her nipples. The teasing touches cleansed away the colour stains and left her skin extra tingly.

Amy shuddered and giggled so overloaded as her skin began to return to that pristine pinkened state. The tongues polished endlessly, swirling and lickling to their master's satisfaction. "Aww, it's just a little licking. Don't you like the cleansing routine Amy? You'd better get used to it, after all sweetheart."

She tried to shut it out, push out those teasing words and this swarm of sensations, but the lips shocked her back into reality by returning to brush all over Amy's face. They kissed at her ears, dipping their tongues inside. The lips brushed her cheeks, kissed at her lips and licked all over her neck. "Geeettt awayyyy nuoonununuu you're kiling meeee!!" Amy's face vanished in the flurry of activity, lips working in tandem to cover her with affection. They reared back and dipped in, synchronizing to completely overwhelm their lovely target.

"Mmmmpphphhheheheheaggoshshshmmpphphh"

"Muah, muah, muah"

Again Amy was left gasping. Her face was a mess of lip prints. Instead of cleansing, the leader was once more fixated on Amy's royal zones. She rolled up the crop top, unbuckled the oversized flower belt and tugged Amy's shorts back down. "Sorry Amybaby, I simply must. I need that princess part, mmhm. You need these wonderful tickles. And I know just how to give them." This time, she did not allow Amy to keep her cute polka dot panties. With a sly grin the leader adorned in pink hooked a finger into Amy's undergarments and began slowly tugging them down. A single pair of lips joined the tease, kissing at Amy's hips to tease further.

"Let's see it now. These cute panties are adorable, but they need to come off." She tugged lower, Amy moaned out feeling the pressure releasing on her swollen princess part. "There we go. Beautiful, so pretty." The leader smiled and held out her hands. One of the other ladies opened a bottle of massage oil and let it fall to her boss's hands from high above. The strict leader never broke eye contact with helpless Amy as she began rubbing her hands together.

"Nnnhhooo. Nooo pleeeease don't...that tickles sooo bad you don't even know!!" Amy pleaded seeing those soft hands heading right for her erect princess part. The woman nodded yes, yes, yes, seizing the quivering part and squeezing it ever so gently, her other hand reaching down to lightly scratch at the perenium.

"Oh, my yes I do Amy. You love this. And you wanted a job, didn't you? Well you're getting it." She began pumping Amy slowly, making her moan. The machine responded by sending the lips back in to kiss at their most tickly teasing, circling around Amy's bouncing belly and sides, and down to her feet to lick the soles.  "In fact, you're getting two Amy!"

The leader reached over to hold up the remote once more. The chime started and an especially sassy pair of red lips shot into view.

"Muah, muah, muah"

The leader held Amy's princess part at the base and took her other index finger to lightly draw on the underside up to the glans. She worked her skilled craft to ensure Amy's naughty part was fully engorged and ready to be overloaded by the machine, no matter how Amy tried to fight it. The red lips lowered further and further. Amy's eyes rolled back into her head as she snickergasped endlessly. Her body was paralyzed with sensation, the last set of lips taking in her swollen princess part, planting a red kiss before working downward.

"Make sure to moan real good for us Amy, we're streaming this to all our affiliates. They just love you, and we're definitely having you back."

Amy could barely register the words though there was no mistaking all the cameras humming and training in on her body. She could sense the giggles and taunts. The muahs. The hum of the machine. But most of all she heard that sound of the lips at her princess part. And felt the insanely tickly sensation rocketing down her sex and radiating through her body. She could barely stay conscious during a blowjob under the best circumstances. But the tickly kisses kept her from fading entirely. The machine smiled and worked Amy into the edge. The lips followed a dynamic routine, tickling and teasing and tickling again, nuzzling their softness on the underside of the tip before going down again. Speeding up with their kisses and raspberries before slowing for a moment and ramping up. The leader never stopped teasing Amy with her fingers, stroking the underside of her princess part and inner thighs with the lightest of touches while she leaned in and made little taunting moaning sounds to match Amy's.

"I'd say you need to beg to cum for us, but I don't think you're capable of such words now babydoll."

After an eternity of torment, Amy's body seized, locked into a bonded thrust of teased pleasure. Her form coated with kiss marks, sensitized pinkened skin, and a little trail of drool. She ticklegasmed right into the kissing red lips, right under the touch of the leader. And the machine did not stop nor did its operator. "Gotta make sure we got it allll~" She sang, speeding up the lips to kiss under the tip while she pulled out a mini vibrating wand to coax every drop by buzzing Amy's royal chest buttons and princess part while tickling with skittering nails all over the belly.

The aftershocks still coated her form, though she could tell some time had passed. The leader had released one of Amy's arms and was holding up a contract for the company. Amy's head lolled from side to side. She faintly signed her name and stuck her tongue out in a sassy half-sleeping gesture. The leader smirked and held the remote up again.

*beeeep*

"Muah, muah, muah"

[hollowwrites]

Missed Opportunities

So I’m currently trying to write smut for my Blindsided fic (about time) and have come to realise I just love writing fluff so much.

Summary - Sebastian stumbles upon Victoria after returning from a wedding. He’s confronted with the feelings he’s been repressing for years.

Warnings - None, fluff fluff fluff!

Word Count - 3454

~

Never in all of his years, did he think having a Pureblood friend would be so…exhausting.

Perhaps maybe, Sebastian was spoiled with Ominis. He was constantly invited to weddings and proposals. They were a common occurrence at the Slytherin Table over breakfast. But all of them were met with a derisory sneer and a not-so-polite refusal.

But Victoria…

Her family was huge.

She had cousins wedded into the Black family, meaning every invitation must be accepted lest she evoke the Headmasters wrath. The Black and Grey family had a good relationship, one her parents were not eager to destroy. And though he already had a soft spot for Victoria considering she was both the Hero of Hogwarts and a Pureblood, perhaps refusing to attended a wedding between their families would put a strain on that

Toujours Pur indeed.

And the proposals…

They irked Sebastian the most. Especially the one sent from the Gaunts for her hand. Ominis and Victoria had a wonderful little chuckle about the whole thing and spent a week playfully calling each other husband and wife.

Much to Sebastian’s disdain.

He most certainly did not enjoy that scenario. His best friend and the girl he has loved since he had met her? No.

It was when Ominis heard Sebastian snap the armrest off one of the flimsy Library chairs, that he stopped. But only on the condition Sebastian finally admit that he loved her.

Thankfully her family were not the pushy type and were actually unbothered about marrying her off.

However…

The endless supply of Owls that dropped letter after letter sealed with sickly sweet pink wax and a white ribbon, boiled Sebastian’s blood.

Of course, watching her open them from three tables away was bad…

…but having her leave for those weddings was worse.

Usually she was gone by breakfast and he missed her completely, spending the whole day wondering when she got back, would a silver band be wrapped around her finger.

~

It was almost one in the morning when Sebastian decided to give up on his search for different Charms and Spells banned around the world. Fascinating what some cultures deem dangerous. He didn’t even need to be there. After Rookwoods death and Anne’s curse halted somewhat, he roamed the Library…simply to learn.

He strolled, bold as brass, out of the Restricted Section, no need to a Disillusionment Charm, nodding to a particularly disgruntled Scribner as he left.

With Ominis as a prefect, Victoria friends with the Headmaster and his grades now impeccable, Sebastian was basically untouchable.

He knew it.

And Scribner knew it.

Sebastian chuckled to himself as he left the Library, the eyes of all the prefects patrolling Central Hall boring into the back of his head. This only made him smirk more.

He still wasn’t tired, but his body was now operating on instinct. He lurched forward towards the Common Room but it’s wasn’t until he veered off did his brain catch on to what his body was doing.

It wasn’t the Slytherin Common Room he was moving towards…

…it was Gryffindors.

And as he rounded the corner near The Fat Lady, a vision of beauty dressed in deep burgundy careened into him, her hands flying forward to catch herself and settling over his chest. He acted on reflex, grabbing forward to catch the offending clutz, fighting every instinct in him to not stare slack jawed at the girl now in his arms.

“Sebastian…” Victoria breathed. Clearly she was in shock from literally running into someone in the corridors, but the way he heard it sent a tingle down his spine. He imagined different scenarios where she would whisper his name like that.

“What are doing wandering the halls at this time?” She scolded with a smirk tugging at her painted lips.

“Have I ever needed a reason to break school rules?” He lied expertly, keeping his hands firmly on her forearms.

In case she falls down he told himself

“Well that’s certainly true…” she laughed softly, tilting her head in curiosity when she notices he’s not making eye contact.

His eyes had dropped to the layered sheer material that clung to her form. A long elegant slit up her leg, accentuated her slender legs along side the painfully tall heels that now made her almost the same height as him.

Ethereally pale, with dark hair and her blood red dress made her look dangerous. Almost vampiric. The sharp blue of her eyes amongst the sultry shadows of her eyes only added to that allure.

Although she had been out all day, her hair and makeup was immaculate. Or was she wearing any? Her lips were obviously redder than normal but Sebastian couldn’t tell if that rosy flush across her cheeks was powdered on or real.

It didn’t matter.

“Sebastian, what are you looki-“

“You’re stunning…” he said confidently, before adding quietly “…Merlins beard…” his eyes slowly trailed up and down her body, scanning every inch of exposed pale flesh. Her shoulders, her arms, her chest where the dress had pushed her up deliciously.

“I…” the way his eyes drank her in made her cheeks burn and her hands tighten around the fabric of his robes, balling into fists at his chest. “…Thank you” she muttered, embarrassed, her voice laced with fatigue.

“Long day?” He asked with a smirk, amused at how a simply comment could break her resolve so easily. No longer a dangerous temptress but putty, quite literally, in his hands.

“Mmm…” she mumbled shifting within his arms “These shoes are ridiculous. My feet are killing me”

“Come on…let me help you to your dorm. I’ll carry your shoes” he gestured, almost exasperated, for her to give him the offending shoes. Secretly, he enjoyed how small she was without them, and he would quite like his diminutive friend back. As she shuffled the heels off and she fell by several inches, he chuckled and delighted in the soft moans of relief she made upon removing them.

“I suppose you can sit with me for a while…” she said with a soft sleepy smile, passing him the shoes with a limp wrist.

He just nodded, eyes wide like an obedient little puppy looking up adoringly at its owner. He followed her towards the portrait of The Fat Lady, her frame opening upon seeing Victoria and slamming back shut when she caught sight of Sebastian. The Fat Lady squinted through a tiny pair of glasses perched upon a long stick. Her face twisting in disgust and she shook her head.

“Come on…it’s Sebastian. He’s my oldest friend” Victoria reasoned, her shoulder slumping as though she could really do without this argument.

Sebastian tried to not let the disappointment show as he heard her refer to him as a ‘friend’.

The Portrait simply opened her frame again and pointedly slamed it shut, her arms crossing over her bosom.

“Ad Nauseum” Victoria said mimicking the Fat Lady’s stance, her tone taking on a parental quality Sebastian only heard when he’d done something truly stupid. “I’ve said the password, you must let me in” she smirked as an idea popped into her head “Or would you like to be responsible for the sighting of a Proud Gryffindor skulking around the Slytherin Dungeons?”

The Fat Lady gasped dramatically muttering expletives under her breath as the frame opened once more.

“Well I know when I’m not wanted” Sebastian pouted, raising an eyebrow at the tiny hole behind the frame “You have to the crawl through that?”

“Yes” she sighed, hoisting her dress into a ball around her hips “Rather undignified if you ask me. I don’t think the Hogwarts Architect considered the female population when he created this”

Sebastian exhaled a laugh watching as she crawled through the tunnel with more grace than she gave herself credit for. His eyes shamelessly dropped to her rear as he followed closely behind her, almost falling out of the other end. Clearly he was distracted.

Thankfully, once he’d entered into the Gryffindor Common Room, there were other things to distract him away from her…assets

His eyes drew over the medieval tapestries and garish red and gold decor. It was warm, Sebastian would give them that, but in that moment, he thanked the Sorting Hat for its correct decision in putting him in Slytherin.

And was that…a snitch? The constant annoying buzzing he could hear from somewhere to his right was enough to make him miss the dungeons.

“Ugh…” he groaned in clear distaste for his surroundings “…Are you sure you don’t want to be sighted down in the dastardly dungeons?” He said swiping his finger across the stone fireplace and rubbing his fingers as though they were covered in filth.

“Absolutely certain…” she huffed as she threw herself at the plush sofa opposite him. Her head lulled backwards onto the armrest, her eyes closing as she relaxed for the first time all day.

Sebastian chuckled and joined her, pulling her feet into his lap and propping his own up on the coffee table ahead of him.

“How was the wedding?” He asked, a sinking feeling of despair settled in his stomach as he thought of her answer;

It was wonderful. The Malfoy family finally approached my father for my hand. We’re to be wed in the spring!

“Mmm…Lovely” came her actual unenthusiastic answer “Though…I wish I’d had a plus one. I wish you’d have been there” she said softly, her eyes still closed.

He opened his mouth to respond, something sharp and witty and typically Sebastian. But the energy in the room felt soft and…safe. He decided perhaps honesty were for the best.

“That makes two of us” he muttered, his voice low and gentle.

“Really?” Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, propping herself up on her elbows “You’d suffer with me?”

“I wouldn’t call spending a day with you suffering” he chuckled, leaning his cheek against his knuckles.

“Have you ever been to a wedding?” She asked incredulously, electing to ignore the obvious flirtation in his comment.

“Well…no actually. But-“

“That settles it…” She interrupts “…My next wedding I’m asking for a plus one and you’re coming with me”

“Why?” He asked, laughing “Miss me that much?”

“I did actually” she said rather casually

That same energy returned. Safe and honest. The ambient glow of the fire bathed her in an orange hue, highlighting the bright blue of her eyes as they looked back at him.

“…I missed you too” he admitted

“Well…” She hummed softly and smiled “I’m back now. You can start making it up to me”

“Making it up to you?’ What exactly am I compensating for?” His tone slipped so easily back to his charming and playful self.

“For not telling me you were willing to come before. Do you know how many weddings I’ve had to attend alone?” She said accusatorially “Weddings are not fun alone. No one to talk to, no one to dance with, no one t-“

“Hold on….” Sebastian interrupted, his hands held ahead of him as though to halt the whole conversation “You don’t dance at these things?

“No? Who would I dance with?l

“I don’t know…I thought someone would have asked you” he turned to her, desperately trying to hide the encroaching smug smirk across his lips.

No one else had touched her!

“You mean to tell me; no one, not one person, has asked you to dance at these little engagement parties and weddings and the like” he was failing spectacularly to conceal the joy in his voice, to the point he almost sounded mocking.

“No?” She answered simply, his tone setting her cheeks a flame “…At risk of you teasing me more…I’ve never actually danced…At all”

Never had he been more thankful for her intimidating beauty.

“That won’t do” he says and stands dragging her by her wrist up and off the sofa. She goes limp and heavy, battling to stay seated.

“W-Wait…What are you doing?” Sebastian laughed at the clear panic in her voice.

“Dancing obviously” her flashed her a brilliant, utterly charming smile “We need to Fix this little problem you have” he continued, gently tugging her up.

“No no…I can’t I’m far too clumsy…” she argued weakly.

And if I dance with you I will definitely fall in love with you; She thought as her brows knitted together in the confusion of her emotions.

“As if I would ever let you fall…” he said softly, all traces of charm and flirtation gone. He just sounded…genuine.

With a small spin in his arms, he pulled her hand up to his shoulder. She sighed and positioned herself properly…or at least what she remembered seeing. Slowly, his hand snaked around her waist and she fought with everything in her to not gasp and fan herself like those Victorian Muggle women.

His hand splayed wide, his palm almost entirely covering the small of her back, fingers, long and sharp curling around her waist. His other was innocently holding her hand aloft leading her in the small silent slow dance. She could feel the callouses across his hand and thought absentmindedly about how he’d gotten them.

Duelling? Helping out at home? Toiling over the little garden next to his home, the suns rays beating down on-

She shook her head and looked down at their feet, desperate to distract herself from the blush creeping across her chest.

She failed.

Looking down only brought attention to the fact she was stood so close to him. Couldn’t even see her feet. Just her chest, pressed into his ribs.

Her nervousness must have been blatant. Sebastian could always read her like a book and if there’s anything Sebastian was good at…it’s reading.

“Don’t be nervous, Angel…” he chuckled “We’re just dancing” his voice was soothing and low, despite his overwhelming urge to tease her. And to kiss her…

With the sudden absence of every dance she’d ever watched leaving her mind, she didn’t know what to do. She leant into him, hoping he could compensate for her inexperience. Or at least hoping she could wrap herself in his warmth and calm the reddening of her cheeks on that.

Sebastian leaned in slightly too, so they were almost cheek-to-cheek as they danced. It meant that his back was stooped low, but the dull ache at the nape of his neck was worth feeling her this close.

His arms wrapped around her back, kept her close. He led them in silence, swaying her from side to side. And in stark contrast to her flushed skin and wild heart, Sebastian felt sick and like his heart might stop any second.

In this moment, Victoria wasn’t some unobtainable Angel who’d helped his sister and clawed him back from the brink of insanity. She was the girl he adored more than anything. And who was currently…his.

In his arms.

Resting against his chest.

His grip tightened around her at this thought, pushing it aside and concentrating on the small circles he moved her around the room in.

He could hear her shaky breath, right next to his ear. His mind, so graciously, tortured him with pictures of what her lips would look like as she breathed. How they parted and her tongue would dart out to wet her lips.

He sighed and with great effort, pulled his face away from hers. He missed the warmth of her cheek immediately, making him shiver. Instead, he moved his chin to the top of her head.

Away from her distractions.

Away from those lips.

And then, there was that atmosphere again. Honesty. Security. Safety.

“You know…” he started wistfully, not quite grasping what words were leaving his mouth, his own ears hearing them at the same time as Victoria’s “…I’ve been mad on you since that duel”

“What?” Her voice was soft but had a distinct strangled quality…

“Since you looked at me…” he exhaled a simply laugh through his nose. His eyes closing, resounding himself to whatever hole he was in the process of digging himself into “…I knew you were special. For a fraction of a second…I forgot about my sister”

He sighed.

He hated admitting it, and he hated how his hormonal teenage body allowed such a transgression . But it was true.

When she knocked him from that platform and offered him her hand…there was no curse. There was no goblin rebellion. There was just…her.

“I…”

“I don’t need you to say anything…” his whole body tensed around her, refusing to let her go in that moment. She sounded…he wasn’t sure…

He wanted for tonight to never end, even though he may have spoiled it. Right now, the air was filled with such possibility, and yes, those possibilities involved rejection. But to have her here for just a little bit longer, in his arms...

Victoria pulled away from him, holding him at an arms length, her hand pressed against his chest and the other still in his hand. There was a quiet happiness that she was not often used to seeing on Sebastian's face. Usually he covered it with a mask irritating charm, mischievous joy…or he just looked…sad.

She felt his slow, heavy heartbeat against her fingers.

Always so calm and yet so manic.

“I thought you were an arrogant arsehole…” she whispered honestly. He snorted out a deep laugh, looking down at her.

“Thanks…” The same irritatingly charming mask slipped over his features again and he smirked. Before he could open his mouth, to undoubtedly say something witty, her fingers touched his jaw as though she could lift a literal mask from his face.

“Don’t do that…” she chastised softly “Don’t hide how you really feel. You don’t need to with me…”

He reached up to touch her fingers stroking softly along his jaw. His features softened and he looked adoringly down at her.

“I…”

“I thought you were an arrogant arsehole.” She repeated with conviction “…then you took the fall for me in the library. You didn’t even know me. But you could help…so you did. Because you’re selfless, and brave, and sweet”

Her fingers pushed into the hair behind his ear, her other hand mirroring it to cup either side of his face.

“And you should probably be in Gryffindor”

“Watch it…” he snapped back with a smirk.

“I’ve been mad on you…since you said ‘I came alone’…” she said staring into the deep dark wells of his eyes “…So I may owe you a couple days” she teased.

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat as he tried to laugh. She always made him feel so at ease but right now…he didn’t want her jokes. He didn’t want her teasing.

He wanted…needed her.

“Victoria…” he whispered, leaning in slowly into her hands, his voice soft and full of affection.

He leaned ever closer into her warmth, craving more of that safe, soft feeling that was tingling at his neck. Their lips brushed past each other softly…like the chiffon of her dress. Their touch like a breath upon each others skin.

Before he couldn’t take it anymore…

Sebastian pressed his lips against hers. His heart almost gave out as he felt a rush of emotions, finally having the ability to express all of his love for her. In a form that wasn’t empty gestures and futile brief encounters.

“Angel” he muttered once more as their lips parted. He shrugged her hands away from him and seized her cheek. His fingers almost wrapped around her neck if he didn’t push them into her hair.

The second time he pressed his lips to her it lasted longer. And longer still. He didn’t want to stop, to pull away. The world around him faded away. His heart now kick started, pounded against his chest.

And despite his insides twisting and churning as though they would escape him, he couldn’t bring himself to kiss her how he wanted.

Gently, his lips glided over hers. Softly, his hands gripped her jaw. Slowly, his thumbs brushed over her cheeks. Until, eventually and reluctantly he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against Victoria’s shoulder, scooping his arms around her waist and holding her against him.

Victorias breath in his ear was fast and shallow.

How did she not know Sebastian could be this gentle?

Her fingers gripped the sides of his robes, fearing if she let go this would all be a dream.

In this moment, Victoria wasn’t some unobtainable Angel who’d helped his sister and clawed him back from the brink of insanity. She was not some untouchable beauty that he thought himself unworthy of.

In this moment, Victoria was his Angel. His true love that he had been holding back for all these years. And now, tonight…finally, he had her.

Masterlist

[vickyvicarious]

There on the bed, seemingly in a swoon, lay poor Lucy, more horribly white and wan-looking than ever. Even the lips were white, and the gums seemed to have shrunken back from the teeth, as we sometimes see in a corpse after a prolonged illness. Van Helsing raised his foot to stamp in anger, but the instinct of his life and all the long years of habit stood to him, and he put it down again softly. "Quick!" he said. "Bring the brandy." I flew to the dining-room, and returned with the decanter. He wetted the poor white lips with it, and together we rubbed palm and wrist and heart. He felt her heart, and after a few moments of agonising suspense said:— "It is not too late."

I find Jack's sudden detachment in this scene so interesting. I think he might have done this before to an extent, describing physical symptoms almost as a separate phenomenon rather than a part of the person. He certainly spoke of Lucy rather formally in some medical contexts ("Patient improved" etc.). But it's especially striking here how quickly he goes from humanizing language to speaking about her almost as an object. It happens right when he describes her lips and teeth - which holds a lot of significance vampirically. Jonathan does the same thing when describing Dracula on meeting him:

His face was a strong—a very strong—aquiline, with high bridge of the thin nose and peculiarly arched nostrils; with lofty domed forehead, and hair growing scantily round the temples but profusely elsewhere. His eyebrows were very massive, almost meeting over the nose, and with bushy hair that seemed to curl in its own profusion. The mouth, so far as I could see it under the heavy moustache, was fixed and rather cruel-looking, with peculiarly sharp white teeth; these protruded over the lips, whose remarkable ruddiness showed astonishing vitality in a man of his years. For the rest, his ears were pale, and at the tops extremely pointed; the chin was broad and strong, and the cheeks firm though thin. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor.

It's all "his" until he gets to Dracula's mouth and then he says "the" instead. This does recur again a little bit with Dracula's cheeks/chin which aren't anywhere near as significant, admittedly, but it's still an interesting detail. Especially when it begins to happen again when the vampire ladies almost bite him:

There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed about to fasten on my throat. Then she paused, and I could hear the churning sound of her tongue as it licked her teeth and lips, and could feel the hot breath on my neck. Then the skin of my throat began to tingle as one's flesh does when the hand that is to tickle it approaches nearer—nearer. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the super-sensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there.

Again, it's not totally consistent, and it might just be a way to make the sentences flow. But I find it interesting that in certain moments a vampire's lips and teeth become "the", like they are a whole in and of themselves rather than just a part of someone's body, like they're all that matters.

Jack obviously isn't looking at Lucy thinking she's a vampire. But he outright says that the look of her teeth/gums reminds him of a corpse. She looks dead. And seeing that, he describes her more clinically, seeking to distance himself emotionally from the sight. He can't completely do it (that's how we get "the poor white lips", still sympathetic) but it's not until he gets to Lucy's heart - and how it is still beating - that he returns to saying "her".

(Jonathan also describes Dracula's body parts with "the" when he looks most dead. Both times when he comes upon him sleeping his descriptions of his body use "the":

He was either dead or asleep, I could not say which—for the eyes were open and stony, but without the glassiness of death—and the cheeks had the warmth of life through all their pallor; the lips were as red as ever.

+

There lay the Count, but looking as if his youth had been half renewed, for the white hair and moustache were changed to dark iron-grey; the cheeks were fuller, and the white skin seemed ruby-red underneath; the mouth was redder than ever, for on the lips were gouts of fresh blood, which trickled from the corners of the mouth and ran over the chin and neck. Even the deep, burning eyes seemed set amongst swollen flesh, for the lids and pouches underneath were bloated.

Of course in that case he didn't have the same reasons for it but he may have been trying to get emotional distance to be able to speak clearly regardless. ...Or maybe that's just how people talked about corpses, I'm not sure.)

[parasite-of-sentience]

Night of Screams, Marley

reposted but enjoy some kind of horny vampire bs of what happened on the night of the fall of Mournhold to Marley, of the Claw

6 hours before The Night of Screams; Ebon Citadel

*I should be fighting….

the thought repeated again, as Marley did her best to Ignore the hungry glances from the vampires across the room.

I should be out there with the others…

She caught a sick little chuckle from the assembled black armored guards, as they drank of her with their silted eyes through visors from across the room. She silences the thought. The brief imagination of leaving her liege with these monsters was enough. No. She should be here with Annika.

Lady Annika Gaunt…

The instinctive correction jabbed her in the chest. Marley failed to resist making a rude gesture to the Vampires. A greywater Classic, but it seems the point got across the realms distant barrier, as they laughed among themselves harshly. If they took offense they made no move to show it. Marley's reputation, the Claw of the Jade Lions, was known enough among the warriors of Mournhold since her arrival. the tall, imposing knight in the brass armor of the lions; wielding a massive, cruelly hooked and curved blade like a child's toy. Cold, unflinching Hazel Eyes that left even beast and vampires uncertain of their chances. That's what the citizenry of Mournhold said of her at least.

Here? In the Ebon Hold, she was nothing more than Lady Annika's arm decoration. No amount of strength or valor would prevail against this many vampires, not in their place of power. Marley was sure however, that she would die in a pile of their bodies before they tore her charnel.

The Morbid thought left her as the doors open. She straighten up from the door frame, the Claw blade lifted from its unceremonious impromptu holster of an immaculate satin couch. She couldn't fall. not here, while she was watching.

"We're leaving…" Annika's silvery voice reignited Marley's Confidence threefold. She matched her Lady's pace, hefting the weighty blade in one hand, point down, a quiet boast to the vampire bodyguards as the two passed without incident. The scoffs and whispers ignored. The two stayed silent as they passed through the halls, not sparing a moment for a single leering vampire, or frightened servant. The Daylight outside a small comfort as Marley opened the carriage, allowing Annika to enter first.

The silence continued till the gates were finally passed. in that moment all tension left Annika's body was she slumped against Marley next to her body pressed to cold metal. Marley stilled the sudden tingle of discomfort, adjusting her posture for the Lady's Comfort. the woman against her let out a long exasperated sigh.

"…They're so boring, Magpie. posturing and expectations and exchanges. how does unlife make you so focused on the boring parts…" Despite the dismissing tone she could feel Annika curl deeper into her; hands searching for Marley's in a bone white grip. Marley resisted pulling away, burying her discomfort at the pet name. This shouldn't pain me like this, not with her. she willed herself to be still.

"…made progress?" Immediately cursing her own careless statement, Marley move an arm to awkwardly wrap around Annika. This is far from the first time She has accompanied her to the Ebon Citadel, presumably to Parley with the Thirsting Court. The alternative, that she truly sought to ingratiate herself to that menagerie of beasts, banished from her own mind. If Annika had a plan Marley was in dark, but she still tempered herself to trust her Lady's actions.

A Sly smile creeped on Annika's face, an expression Marley wasn't sure how to read. Since Annika began visiting the keep there's been many new unfamiliar tells. "…Excellent progress my Knight, soon we'll have everything we need…." Annika Raised a hand to caress Marley's cheek. At the touch of her soft fingers Marley's focus finally faltered. The visible wince had Annika pull her fingers back as if burned, but if she took offense she gave it no voice, satiated to continue being held. The carriage ride passed with the clop of hooves and Annika's idle gossip. \

1 Hours before the night of Screams; Jade Knight Barracks, Gaunt estate

"…Marley!"

The third much louder call pulled Marley from her stupor, A voice Marley was unaccustomed to hearing shout drew her back to reality. Before her, kneeled down and brass mask uncomfortably close, was her fellow captain Dunya, of the Mask. A long, stained green cloak kissed the dirty ground, contrasted by her slim frame crowned in the setting sun.

"You're an entire bottle in. Usually you stop at a glass." A slight cock the head accented the genuine concern behind the statement "what gives?"

The sudden urgent need to crack the bottle over whoever woke her subsided as quickly as it rose. Among the captains who led the Jade Lions, Dunya was the only she would all friend. a Quiet scoff and attempt to turn away was quickly stilled by a sharp poke to the forehead.

"I'm off killing the rampant undead all morning, commanding your troops. The least you could do is speak to me" Dunya's posture lowered, clearly not meaning to snap. She sighed and settled in next to Marley joining in watching the sunset.

"This. This should be our chance. We should be out there proving ourselves…" The lie was already rancid in Marley's Throat. I should have been out there. I should still be out there. She cleared her throat and continued. "…Ann- Lady Annika told me she was close, she had it figured out. I want to trust in her but…" The material reality was evident. Mindless undead swamped the city and clawed at its walls. The ancestor spirits of Mournhold turned violent and unreasoning. The cities infrastructure buckled under the Necroquake. Now, more than ever, the city needed every body. They needed to see Jade Lions pulling survivors from the rubble. maybe then, they would be truly accepted.

Instead the entire company was given orders to standby. to await further instructions. Initiates languished on the stone, the howls of the mornings victory cut short by the news. She could already imagine the scornful looks of the other captains, the Maul and the Fleece were likely already planning for the next summit.

Dunya's Gentle voice cut through her sulking. "I've been thinking…." The pause caught Marley's own breath in her throat, dreading what might come next. "…Have you considered your sucessor?"

The question took Marley off guard, but she paused in thought regardless. "…Abram…" Marley whispered it, a quiet confidence to Dunya. among her troops he would suit the Position of the Claw, perhaps better than she did.

"I'll be frank Marley, I don't like her. Gaunt's a good enough employer, but I don't care for how she treats you…." A beginning trickle of defensiveness was quickly snuffed, Marley wanted to hear this. "…but I do trust you, it's why we're all here…" Marley's mind flashed to the summit leading to their arrival in Shyish, a tie vote on whether or not they accepted the contract; a duel narrowly won along side Dunya. "…But maybe you don't need the company anymore, you've proven your strength tenfold… you don't need to die for us to remember you…"

Marley was silent as she processed this a part of her wanted to protest, to profess her desire to die holding the Claw in an iron grip, plunging it into the heart of a horrid beast, the same way her processor died years ago. Dunya voice tinged with tears and anguish at her death bed. It wouldn't be an honest truth.

"lets get through this awful night, see what Gaunt has planned for us…" Dunya settled in as the final hour of Hysh's Light found the Horizon, igniting the smokey pall of the destruction of the city in emberous gold. "…then we can figure out where we go from here." the smile could be heard in Dunyas's Voice even as the obscuring mask danced with dusk's light.

In cruel hindsight, If Marley could hold onto that last hour;

onto Dunya forever;

she would give every dusk to follow.

3 hour into The Night of Screams, Jade Lion Barracks Gaunt Estate

Abram was torn in half in front of her.

Marley would made sure to give the bat winged fiend who killed him the same end.

Lost in a moment of hacking and chopping, senses obscured in suffocating black night contrasting against the eye searing fire; the wet spray of fresh of wicked blood, the scent of viscera and the screeches of the thing as it flailed against her desperately. The claw doing its butchers work again and again against its swollen body.

"Enough."

Dunya's voice cut through the haze. Her arm hovering near Marley's shoulder, waiting for permission. reaching her hand over to grasp Dunya's hand for a moment, Marley allowed Dunya to steer her away from the twitching body. A crack of breaking glass, and the Aqshian toast did its grim work as the body blazed in inferno.

"H-how many left?" Marley tried to slow her breathing, ease the tension from her voice as she continued scanning the shadows against their makeshift fire barrier.

She could hear Dunya clinking bottles in her bag, eyes still on the shadows on the opposite side. by her own count, one or two left. Marley could feel Dunya Pause for the right answer.

"…Enough." Dunya's lie was evident in her warm tone, but the joke was enough to give Marley back her focus. She heard the familiar clink of Dunya's rifle loader opening. Instinctively, Marley began scanning Dunya's side too.

Three casings hit the ground.

Marley only heard 2 being loaded back in. Her grip tightened on the Claw. "when they swoop again, throw the next Toast,"

"I'm not setting you on fire" The 2nd clink of the loader returning into place, the shifts behind her told Marley that Dunya was back in position

"you won't" The small laugh behind Marley told her that Dunya liked the meager boast.

Their nerves settled for the moment. both were utterly, still short of their scanning of the shadows, A gunshot cut through the monotony. It chose Dunya's Side. Marley had to wonder if it had enough of a mind to regret as she heard the glistening shatter, and the bloom of fire. in the time it took Marley to turn Dunya had already hit the deck. heading right for Marley was another winged beast, off kilter with its wounds and ablaze with fire. heading right into Marley's strike. the disemboweled nightmare spilled upon the ground, flesh still blazing. its struggle did not last long.

the shadows didn't let their momentary victory linger. as Marley regained her bearings she felt a slight tug on her cloak, And a voice she had never heard scream before. A cry of her own name that gouged at her very core. the clatter of a gun hitting the stone wasn't far.

two more of those chiropteran beast, wicked talons pressing against her body, dragging Dunya into the shadows. The Mask, the symbol of station, clattered to the ground. She was about to lose Dunya too, and her terrified pained expression disappearing into black would haunt Marley's every memory of her. Unless she could stop it. She whirled around to pursue, snatching up the rifle on her way

With an arm still free, Dunya retrieved the last Aqshian toast, eyes still wide in terror her gaze passed over Marley, but the moment was enough to communicate what needed to be done. lighting the fuse with the flint on her gloves, she smashed it directly upon one of the beasts. Shielding her exposed face with her cloak, it wouldn't be long till the fire spread. if Marley didn't follow through

For the first time in her service with the Jade Lions, Marley howled. Throwing herself headlong into the burning horror, Blade forward. The blade plunged deep into the beast chest, its strength suddenly failing it. If it had a heart, Marley found it.

The second one, grip still firm on Dunya, wasted no time fastening its jaws onto Marley's arm. a crunch of metal, and then one of bone. Marley's cry was one of both pain and desperation. Dunya reached for Marley, fingers grasping the sling.

it was unfortunate that the rifle was held in the arm currently being broken, her grip slipped, and the beast a quick to capitalize, crunching down hard and tossing marley aside. and its leather wings beat hard once. twice. till too disappeared with Dunya into the night. once more Marley heard her name called. The cry rang again and again in her head as she laid on the blood slicked stone.

after waiting what felt like an eternity for the next vampiric monstrosity to finish her off, Marley dragged herself clumsily to her feet. in a daze she seached for Dunya, long gone. Till the brass mask, fire dancing in its reflection caught her eye. she stumbled over to it, even ignoring her own blade deep in the chest of the twitching bleeding thing.

Lifted it from the gore and fastening its clasp to her cloak, she stumbled back to her blade, sparing no expense to step on the creatures neck while she retrieved her blade with a sickening squelch. She could see them, taking the moment to gorge themselves on her fallen shredded comrades. They would find they would not feed on her till her own body was in a similar state.

Her moment of acceptance was not to last, as she saw familiar slender frame against the light of the fire. Her gown sheer in wet blood. Her face expression obscured in matted hair; but she was here, Alive. And Marley would not fall, not while she was watching.

The strength returning to Marley's limbs, she broke into a sprint, blade barely scraping the ground. It didn't matter if it was another hour, another twenty minutes, another 5 minutes. Marley would protect her Liege. The smile Annika gave her returned. If only for a moment.

In the flicker of flame Annika was before her. far sooner than than she should have. Her lady, Threw herself against her. Marley was falling backwards. She couldn't breath. no, not yet. In each others arms, they both collapsed against the bloody stone.

It wasn't until Annika twisted the pitted rusted blade in Marley's Gut that she understood what was happening. Marley watched her blood flow upwards against its edge, against gravity's pull, in stunned silence. it reached Annika's hands and she watched her lips curl in a wicked grin as greedily lapped at the blood. Marley almost refused to believe what she was seeing. till she saw Annika's eyes boring down at her, with the glint of a predator. A vampire

"I did it, my knight…. Its just us now." A silvery voice grown so familiar to Marley Pricked her ears, but in this moment oh so unfamiliar, tinged in alien hostility. She watched her eyes flicker to above, out to the figures in the dancing shadows. A single sweep of a cold glare and the shapes receded. "…I'm so sorry it took so long. They demanded so much. But now, You belong to me alone. It all, belongs to me alone."

Annika punctuated her claim with a gesture to the scene around her. The fire, the charnel, the blood. Her eyes turned back to Marley noting the mask still latched to her cloak. a brief frown and a flick of a wrist. and the mask sent tumbling away into the dark, out of her sight.

Annika wasted no time pressing herself closer pressing herself against Marley. Soft hands, now tipped in a razor talon, and wet with Marley's own blood, gently cupped Marley's cheeks. In this moment their Marley's every nerve screamed out in unison, the tingle of discomfort compounded into a current of violation this is wrong.

the strength had left Marley's limbs, she could barely breath. but she had strength for one plea

*"Not. This."

Her body pulled violently against the blade in her stomach as she struggled out the words. If she could scream, she would. faster than a blink a bloodstained hand covered Marley's mouth. Her own blood, she could taste her own blood.

"Gently, dear magpie! you can't die too quickly or it will all be for naught!" Annika watched with engrossed fascination as the blade in Marley beaded with more and more blood. She lapped at the blood on her palm like a spoiled child. She was watching, waiting for something. "you can't take my affections, the place at my side, and my moment of triumph!"

her finger lingered on licking the blood off her fingers, talon lingering over her tongue. A moment of hesitation, till the nail slashed down her tongue. the shudder of pain gave way to a shudder of something else entirely. the hand upon Marley's mouth twisted around to her chin, pulling it up, sharp fingertips pricking into Marley's face.

"Not. till I given you a taste in return…" Annika's voice was deep and heavy with something beyond her own body, the thing just behind her eyes. the blood trickling down her lips mixing with Marley's and gods knows whos else's. Annika lowered her face to her victim's. the fluttering remnants of Marley's consciousness screamed out fruitlessly, for the body itself could no longer. "Nothing alive will stop you, my knight…"

[dawnslight-aegis]

15. tepid (extra credit)

When compared to the bone-deep chill of an Ishgardian winter night, even a tepid bath was a welcome source of warmth, but judging by the steam rising off the pools in the Firmament, these were anything but. Though it had been fully a half year since their completion, Aymeric had never visited them before – and certainly not in the middle of the night, when they were meant to be closed to the public.

Kaede had just rolled her eyes at him when he'd said as much, after she had proposed this little outing. “I hardly think you and I count as the public, Aymeric. I made half the fittings for those baths myself, and you’re the bloody Lord Speaker. I don’t think anyone is going to wag their finger at us for taking a little dip after hours.”

He'd had no rebuttal to that, which was how he found himself staring down into steaming water that heated the air around him, waiting for his future wife to finish getting changed, so she could wheedle him into the water. Of course, he could have gotten in while waiting, and been substantially warmer, but this was her idea, after all. It would be rude to leave her behind. It certainly had nothing to do with him feeling a bit like he had snuck out of bed to accomplish some mischief, and woe betide him if his mother should find him out and about.

The sight of Kaede wearing nothing but a few scant pieces of white silk and her own golden scales banished all his apprehension, as did the conspiratorial sparkle in her eyes. Only recently had she begun to recover her energy enough to be excited and motivated to get out of the manor, so there was no way he could have possibly refused her. Even if she was currently wrinkling her nose and looking at him like he was the most foolish creature she’d ever laid eyes on.

“What are you doing standing in the cold? The water won’t bite, you know.”

“I believe the common saying is ‘ladies first,’ is it not?” he responded with a cheeky half-bow, and she laughed in response, as he’d hoped she would.

“Fine, fine. Since you’re clearly too scared to get in, I’ll just have to lead the way, I suppose.”

Kaede placed her hand on his bare chest as she approached, her hand cool in the chilly air, and he took it in his and lifted her palm to his lips, pleased to watch her teasing expression soften in the warm lanternlight. The pad of her thumb stroked his cheek in wordless affection before she pulled away and walked down the steps into the steaming water. Without preamble she submerged herself in one of the deeper sections and then popped back up, sodden hair immediately clinging to her cheeks and then fanning out in the water around her as she paddled over to the edge of the pool and rested her chin and arms on the side.

Unable to resist the allure of teasing her a little more, Aymeric opted to simply sit on the edge next to her, dangling his feet in the water, shivering as the heat made his skin tingle as the blood rushed through chilled flesh.

He leaned down over the woman floating siren-like in the water beside him, grinning as she wrapped wet arms around his shoulders, tugging his face down towards her own –

and suddenly yanking hard, dragging him sputtering and flailing into the water with her.

Instinctively, he had grabbed the edge as he’d slid, and with one movement, hauled them both back above the water. Kaede was still clinging to him, laughing hysterically, which dulled his irritation somewhat, but not entirely. “That,” he managed around a cough, “was unkindly done, my lady.”

The sheer, sparkling amusement on her face dimmed a bit into contrition, and she loosened her grip on him to sink into the water a bit. “I’m sorry, you’re right. I didn’t mean to pull quite that hard.”

Her strength was returning somewhat, which pleased him – he just wished it had manifested in a less undignified way. Catching her by the waist, he pulled her back into his arms, finding a stone bench carved into the side of the pool just behind him. Kaede curled herself into him on his lap in apology, and they sat there for a long, quiet moment.

“I trust you’ll behave yourself now?” he asked, affecting a deep sternness to his tone, and got a look that was somehow both solemn and impish in return.

“Yes, m’lord.” The title, from her lips, in that tone – his ears warmed, and he couldn’t attribute it solely to the warmth of the water.

Casting about for a subject change, for his thoughts were threatening to stray down a dangerous path, he slid his palm over the thick scales along her spine. “Is the water helping?”

She’d complained of being abominably itchy the past few days, something that tended to happen when she spent too much time in the cold, dry air of Ishgard, and was what he assumed the true motivator of this little trip was. A nod against his shoulder confirmed his suspicions. “Yes, thankfully. Baths at home are great and all, but hot springs work wonders.”

“You could have come here yourself at any time – why wait for the middle of the night?”

Leaning back so she could look him in the eye, she gave him one of those fond smiles that meant he’d missed the point entirely. “Because a certain Ishgardian lord is both very busy and very worried about causing a stir, and I wanted him to enjoy the hot springs too.” The lightly teasing note dropped out of her voice, and a pair of wet hands cradled his face. “You deserve to relax. I also know that you still worry about me. This solves both those problems.” She paused, and the sparkle came back to her eyes as she leaned forward, angling her chest so it was in direct view, if he only glanced down. “Plus. You get to see me dressed like this.”

Aymeric, despite his most valiant efforts, finally lost the battle to keep his eyes on her face. “So I do.”

[comfort-questing]

"friendly fire"

(Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Academy phase)

Edelgard hadn't even needed help with the bandit leader in the first place. She'd been about to defeat him, in fact - just leaning back on her back foot to gather strength for a swing whenever she saw an opening in his clumsy swordwork. The gold-fletched arrow that slid past her face and found its mark abruptly in the bandit's upraised sword arm was totally unnecessary, really.

Just Claude, being a show-off as usual. Four months at Garreg Mach and this was nothing more than she expected of him, the snarky upstart that he was -

and then the sharp blow just inward of her left shoulderblade drove the breath out of her, sending her stumbling forward unprepared as the world fogged and spun around her for a ghastly moment.

The third arrow took the bandit in the throat, but she didn't know that until later. Only that when she staggered upright her opponent was coughing blood on the ground, and she found her knees suddenly shaky and her axe heavy in her hands, waves of stiff hot pain radiating from her back.

"Lady Edelgard!" That was Hubert, of course - a voice she'd always recognize no matter what extremity it found her in; his, too, the gloved hands steady under her armpits as she stood dazed and trembling.

"Edelgard!" That was not Hubert - the flash of gold and tawny in the sideline of her dizzy sight, and she felt Hubert's gasp shift as he turned with a snarl to the newcomer:

"Get away from her."

"I was just - I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - " Claude, his silver tongue suddenly failing him, hands empty and reaching towards her. "It's all right, Edelgard, Marianne's on her way over, she'll help."

"We don't need any more help from you and yours," Edelgard managed to spit between her clenched teeth. She could breathe against the pain now, as long as she didn't stir the arrow shaft from its place. Linhardt would... oh, blast, Linhardt was back at the monastery, three textbooks deep in the magic seminar with Professor Byleth and Professor Manuela. Of all days for their healer to have pled off.

Dimly she could still hear the clamor of battle across the clearing, although lessening now; Hubert murmured an apology and let go with one hand, to reach up calmly above her head and release another spell in that direction. The cold tingle of mana itched across her hair and skin for a moment.

"Oh, no! I'm sorry, I got here quick as I could." Marianne flung herself down to kneel on the trampled grass, reaching out. "Miss - Edelgard, may I - "

"Do you want me to clear these folk for you, my lady?" Hubert muttered out of the corner of his mouth, his arm still supporting her.

Her first instinct was to nod yes, and watch his magic defend her, the way he had always offered to do against greater pains than these, and with less chance of victory; but Claude and Marianne's faces were all worry and guileless care, Claude's eyebrows pinched together in what looked like the most genuine distress he had ever shown in her presence. And Marianne - that girl obviously couldn't bring herself to cause harm to an ant hill in the stable yard, let alone any classmate of hers.

"No," she managed, "let them - help."

-

It still hurt, of course, as Claude got the arrow out from the crevice behind one shoulderblade, a white-hot wrenching pain that sickened her for a terrible moment before Marianne's gentle warm healing wrapped around her like a blanket. She still needed Hubert's help to walk back towards the remainder of the battle, to meet the others and Professor Hanneman gathering up the surviving bandits for management back at the village. But for the first time in a very long time the cluster of other faces and voices around her was more comforting than frightening, and when her eyes drooped shut from exhaustion she let them fall, and her classmates' arms open to guide her back with them to Garreg Mach.

Claude had apologized to her no less than five times and probably a dozen, by then. Edelgard was also a little drowsily curious how long it would take for his remorse to wear off.

She could get used to this, she thought, a little ashamed; this being taken care of.

[uncrvwned]

Would she ever feel comfortable in the North? Once upon a time Jeyne had naively thought so: everything had seemed so easy, those first few weeks with Robb, the long winding ride back to Riverrun; frightening, yes, of course, and the guilt had been crushing watching the Freys gather their men and ride out of the great gates, kicking up furious dust - but Robb had reassured her. My mother came up from the South, he said, and now she is beloved by all the North. Catelyn had warned her that it would not be easy, but it could be done: with hard work, and respect, and grace, they could be won over, these fierce Northerners who scared her so deeply.

But that was months ago, before all the battles and death, before Robb had had to fight his way up through Moat Calin, before they had reached the burned out remains of Winterfell and she had watched him kneel in the ashes, white faced, tight lipped. It was not her fault they had lost the North, no more than it was Robb's fault that it had taken so many men to win it back, but she felt the very land beneath her reject her footfall all the same. And here, so far North that it felt like a different world, on Bear Island, it was only too apparent how different she was. Are you their Queen? Jeyne asked herself, as she dressed in boiled leather, an iron studded jerkin, comfortable riding breeches, and almost didn't recognise herself in the mirror. She fastened the wolf's head clasp about her neck to keep her cloak in place and touched the thick dark braid that fell down one shoulder. Your mother would not recognise you.

She had known many of the Mormonts through the long winter of the war, but she was distant from them still. They were a different species to her. She tried to imagine Dacey at the crumbling Crag, underneath the tattered seashell banner, and found she could not. She tried to imagine her grandmother, Maggy, tasting the blood of the bears, and could not do that either. Bear Island did not want her here; it whispered to her at night, brought goosebumps prickling over her arms until even Robb, caught up as he was in the rounds of feasting and drinking and oath swearing, noticed her discomfort. You are not of the North, it whispered to her. Go back to Essos, Maegi.

The maid led her to Dacey's chambers without a word, though her dark eyes scanned Jeyne curiously. Royalty did not travel this close to the Wall often. It was to escape those curious eyes that Jeyne opened the door without waiting for an answer to her knock, and she immediately flushed with embarrassment, cursing herself. "My Lady - I am so sorry, I should have waited, I -"

She stopped, words dying in her throat at the sight of Dacey's back, the smooth skin marred by stripes of long-healed wounds. Instinctively Jeyne's hand flew to her own side, the only place the thin reed cane her mother had used on them as children had ever scarred, imagining she could feel the raised ridges through her layers of clothes; she knew that was impossible, but they tingled nonetheless. She relaxed a little at Dacey's reassurance, and closed the door behind her, then turned her back, facing the fire to give Dacey a little privacy. Claw marks. That made her think of Robb. "A dangerous hobby," she said, "though I am glad to hear no one deliberately hurt you." She hestiated; it was clear that the Lady was distant, distracted. "Forgive me. I only came to see if you wished to accompany me to dinner. I can leave you in peace."

@uncrvwned ( jeyne ) ASKED: [ BLUNDER ]  for sender to walk in on receiver in a state of undress thus seeing their scars for the first time source.

standing in the centre of the room, dacey had subconciously wandered to her mother's old chambers in the left side of the home - close to her father's and far from the cliff's edge, her mother had had a deathly fear of heights. the bath is filled to the edge, droplets of lavender scented water threatening to drown the hardwood flooring beneath as the dazed eldest daughter began to shrug down her underdress.

the creak of the door does not cause her to turn, to look at the intruder, instead she stills her movements. white fabric hanging limply at her waist as she stares absently and blankly at the steam rising from the bath - she was sure the maids had thought her mad to bathe in her mother's old rooms, but dacey did not care. it was one of the few places she believed she was alone from not only the guests of bear island, but the voices.

"do not worry, i was not beaten or whipped." she understands the marred and raised flesh of her back leaves much to be desired for as a highborn lady, the cracks in once pristine skin now constant reminders of her companions on the island. "joffrey was simply raised by fierce mothers and sisters, i ventured too close too many times. i still do."

[spideystevie]

i knew

summary: 4 times you knew steve loved you + 1 time you knew you loved him

word count: 3.3k

a/n: title from the lizzy song where i got the idea from. i truly didn’t plan on this being as long as it is but i got carried away. takes place leading up to volume one. there’s a small amount of angst at the end but it’s mostly just lovesick idiots. 

masterlist!

1. when he gets you a card

The day is slow at the bookstore but you don’t mind. It had been a week from hell as far as you were concerned and you felt like the universe owed you at least a small semblance of peace in the form of a quiet, late morning shift. When noon rolls around, the bell above the door rings.

“Welcome in,” you call out without looking towards the door.  Your customer service voice sounds nothing like you and you subconsciously wrinkle your nose at the sound of it.  You’ve made yourself busy behind the counter, still not looking up even when there’s no response, and hope whoever it is doesn’t need any immediate help. 

Your back is turned for a moment and someone clears their throat behind you. You let out a small huff through your nose. “Can I help you?”

The words die in your throat when you turn around and lock eyes with Steve who’s all sly smiles and shining eyes. Your own smile slides across your face at the sight of him. He nods at your question. “Yeah, I was wondering if you knew where I could drop this off to make sure my girlfriend gets it?”

He holds up a small white envelope, your name etched across the back of it in blue ink. Your smile grows as you lean against the counter and hold out your hand. “What’s this for?”

Steve sets it into your open palm, watching carefully as you set it down on the counter. Your fingertips trace over the writing on the back and you feel an eager anticipation to rip into it and read what’s inside. 

“Just because. I know you’ve been having a bit of a rough week so I thought I'd surprise you at work but then I got the idea on the way over to get a little something to surprise you with,” he says and the sound of your giggle floats through the air. 

“A bit, is putting it lightly, but consider me surprised,” you joke, though it’s mostly true. He smiles softly. 

“I thought maybe a card would help cheer you up or something. There’s a dinner date invitation for tonight included with it,” he says, reaching out across the counter to brush the back of his knuckles against your cheek. A warm trail follows in their wake. 

“Stevie..” your voice is soft, caught between awe and disbelief. He’s rambling, over-explaining in hopes that you like it. 

“I was worried for a second because when I got to the car, I realized I didn’t have a pen to write in it so I had to run back inside and ask for one and this little old lady gave me one from, like, the bottom of her purse and-” he pauses when he notices you swipe your finger underneath your eye with a sniffle. “Hey, woah, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, sniffling and letting out a wet laugh. The built up tension from the week mixed with the sudden swoop of emotion from Steve’s loving gesture brings tears to your eyes and you wipe at your wet cheeks. “Yeah I’m okay. This is just really sweet, I love it. I love you.”

His concerned frown morphs into a giddy smile and his eyes light up. You step around the checkout counter of the bookstore you work at to wrap your arms around his middle. His arms instinctively wrap themselves around you, holding you against him. He presses a kiss to your head. “I love you, too.”

And you feel it melting off of him and onto you as you hug him. A deep radiating warmth that makes your skin tingle and your heart jump against your ribcage. You feel it again later when you get home, finally opening the sealed envelope and reading the note he put inside before you get ready for dinner. 

A whole mini love letter specifically designed for you, and signed by Steve in a messy scrawl of his handwriting. 

2. when he walks you to your door

There’s a magic that comes to Steve Harrington loving you, you’re convinced. It’s the sole explanation you can come up with for the way everything seems to click into place, anything bad slipping into the shadows as you sit across from him at Enzo’s. Or when he makes you laugh just that much harder, the sweetness of the message in the card still stuck in a loop in your brain, as he drives you home. 

He insists on walking you to your door when he drops you off after dinner that night, ignoring your protests about your front door being only a few feet away and that nothing was going to get you. He holds your hand under the yellow porch light and somehow he still looks heavenly underneath it. 

You feel sixteen again standing on your porch waiting for a kiss goodnight after a first date. A warm feeling buzzes in your chest as you stare at him, his eyes regarding you like you just sewed the stars into the sky above you.

“Thank you,” you say, soft tone of voice blending in with the hum of electricity and crickets in the yard. There’s a gentle smile on his face but a question lurking behind his eyes. 

“For what?” it's a small murmur, thumbs brushing over the backs of your hands extended in between the both of you. You glance down at them, lifting your shoulder in a brief shrug.

“For…everything, I dunno,” you look back up at him, eyes almost doe like in their softness. “Specifically the card and dinner. And just for being you.”

Steve squeezes your hands three times, a silent I love you, a gentle reminder. His smile widens and he takes a step forward, closing the already limited space between you. Two moths flutter under the porch light just above his head and he takes a second to swat them away. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’d do anything for you,” his cadence is like a melody to your ears, the warmth in your chest swelling until it spills over into the rest of your body. You take a small step forward this time, joined hands falling to make room for your chest to brush his. 

One of his hands comes up to brush against your cheek, palm pressing flat against it and tilting your head to press his lips to yours. Your heart flutters like the moths above, body caving into his like a moth drawn to a flame. That teenage feeling hits again and you can’t help the smile you let slip into the kiss. 

You pull back a hair, nose bumping his and the taste of his smile still on your tongue. “Something tells me you might have a crush on me, Harrington.”

You can feel the breath from his laugh against your face, giggling as his nose brushes yours and he shakes his head. He mutters a soft shut up, swallowing your giggles as he kisses you again and again, until you’re breathless and a little dizzy. You step back with a smile that’s a little shy. 

When you say goodnight, he squeezes your hands again and leaves a lingering kiss on your cheek instead. You watch him walk back to his car, waving from the door until he’s turning the ignition. And when the door shuts, you’re pressing your back against it, listening to the hum of the engine as he drives off, a giddy smile taking up permanent residence on your face. 

3. when he ties your shoe for you

It’s snowing when the two of you come out of the movie theater and there’s a harsh nip in the wind that rushes by. You’re shoving your free hand and the one connected to Steve’s into the pockets of your coat. He’s talking with his one hand, voice animated as he shares his opinions about the movie you had just watched.

You nod along, laughing a little under your breath. It’s not a long walk to where his car is parked but it feels like an eternity for how cold it is. Snowflakes land in your eyelashes and you blink them away, eyes landing on one that rests on the slope of Steve’s nose. He subconsciously wrinkles his nose, the movement melting it into his skin. 

As you walk, the laces of your right shoe unravel from their bow. The ends hitting against the sliver of exposed ankle from your jeans alert you and you look down. He’s mid-sentence and you feel a little bad when you interrupt him. “Oh! Hold that thought, my shoe’s untied.”

You pause, Steve stopping in sync with you in the middle of the deserted sidewalk. He lets go of your hand but as you start to bend down, he stops you. He’s already stepping in front of you and dropping to the ground when he says, “Here, let me.”

You watch with an enamored smile as his fingers work the laces into a double knot. The snow on the ground makes his hair look a darker brown and you wonder if his fingers are aching from the cold. The snow falling from the sky is starting to turn into sleet, wet when it lands against your cheek and in his hair. 

“There,” he taps the inside of your shoe. Steve looks up, a small grin on his face. You feel it again as he’s looking at you. That all encompassing warmth, a tingling serenity that comes from the certainty that he loves you. So much so that he’d drop down to tie your shoe for you.  “All done.” 

The tip of his nose is pink from the frost bitten air outside and you can’t feel your cheeks all that much any more, but you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else. You grin, offering your hand to help pull him up from the low squat he’s in. 

“My Prince Charming,” you tease, shoulder nudging his side as you relace your fingers together. He shakes his head, pressing a searing kiss to your rather cold cheek.

When you reach his car, he doesn’t open your door right away. Instead, he cradles your face in his hands. His hands are somehow warm despite the weather but maybe your cheeks are just cold. You don’t get much time to think about it as he brings his face down to yours, catching your lips in a searing kiss that warms the both of you up just fine. 

You look a little dazed when he pulls back, blinking slowly with stars in your eyes. The kiss had taken you a little by surprise and your voice comes out quiet and a little shy when you ask,  “What was that for?”

“Just love you,” he kisses the tip of your chill-bitten nose and reaches around you to open your door. You can’t bite back the giddy love sick smile that spreads while you sit in the car and watch him cross in front to get to the driver’s side. 

4. when he learns your favorite song

The weather starts to ease later in the week with the days growing slightly warmer and the lingering patches of snow lining the roads melting into the ground. Even still, you layer one of your heavier jackets over top a sweatshirt of Steve’s before heading out to see him. 

When you pull into the parking lot of Family Video, it’s nearly deserted save for the all too familiar red BMW. The interior is even more deserted when you step inside, the bell over the door barely heard from the music being played from the old boombox on the counter. 

You briefly notice Robin restocking towards the back but your attention is pulled entirely to your boyfriend, swaying a little to the mixtape playing and singing along just barely. He doesn’t see you come in, and he definitely didn’t hear you either. 

Whitney Houston’s, How Will I Know, plays through the speakers and as you step closer, Steve finally turns around and nearly jumps at the sight of you. His cheeks start to burn and you grin at the soft red that stretches from cheek to cheek. He turns the volume down enough to hear you when you speak as you lean against the counter. 

“Since when do you listen to Whitney Houston?” you’re half teasing, half genuinely curious. Your smile twists into something a little bit confused and Steve thinks the way your eyebrows furrow a little as you tilt your head has to be the cutest thing he’s seen all day. He shrugs, leaning across until your forearms are touching.

“Since you mentioned this being your favorite song,” he says it in a way that’s nonchalant but the way you react is anything but. Your whole body warms making it almost entirely too hot for your layers. You flip one of your hands palm up, watching as Steve’s fingers dance across the skin before sliding easily into place between yours. 

Until now, you hadn’t thought Steve had heard you when you turned his radio on driving home from the movie theater. You had tuned through the channels, landing on the one that was playing How Will I Know and increasing the volume while softly remarking, “Oh! I love this song.”

“I hadn’t thought you heard me,” your voice is soft again, an enamored look in your eyes as you make eye contact with Steve. There’s something like thick honey, something more intensely tender and affectionate than normal in his gaze and you can feel yourself sinking deep into it. 

“I always hear you,” you can feel that same warmth again, sitting deep in your chest and making your face feverish to the touch. Your emotions are on cloud nine and in a blink you’re pushing forward on your toes over the counter, to kiss your boyfriend. One of your palms lays flat on his cheek, holding him to you. 

“Oh gross, guys, really?” Robin says, though her voice holds no real disgust. You break apart from Steve with a laugh, feet falling flat back onto the ground. Your smile is love sick and it matches the look in Steve’s eyes as he rolls them at his best friend. 

You squeeze his hand three times, quick, almost fleeting and let yourself get carried away by the feeling of his all-consuming love for you when he squeezes back. 

5. when you can’t fall asleep at night

When you had walked in on Steve singing along to your favorite song a month earlier, you never thought the sweetness of the memory would’ve held the weight it does now. Now, you have How Will I Know on a looping tape sitting in the glovebox of his car as a precautionary.

A twinge of guilt is quick to bite when you let yourself feel an ounce of relief that you haven’t needed to use it because every moment you’re not using yours, Max is using hers. Beneath it all is a deep feeling of unease, one that hasn’t left since you were in the Creel House. 

Steve’s hand finds yours beneath the sheets, squeezing three times saying both I love you and I’m here for you all at once. It makes your heart feel like it’s going to burst and you smile weakly at him but it doesn’t reach your eyes. 

Your body feels tired, limbs heavy with exhaustion and the weight of your never-ending worry. His bed is as cozy as ever and his sheets smell like him, the scent of his shampoo joining the mix from the damp hair on both of your heads. It’s grounding and for a minute you think you might actually be able to get some sleep tonight.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Steve says, deep hints of concern swirling in his eyes. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Just thinking,” you say, voice a little muffled from your cheek being squished against the pillow. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and you follow the movement with your eyes. 

“About..?” he muses, slowly trying to work it out of you. You know what he’s doing, almost hate that he knows you as well as he does. 

“How I never would’ve imagined my favorite song leading us to this moment,” you say and Steve gives you a minute in case you have more to say. “I’m so scared, Steve. And I know we’ve done this whole monster fighting before but it feels…different this time.”

It’s hard to really read his expression in the dim light of his bedside lamp, the lightbulb is dying and you had jumped earlier when it flickered. His thumb rubs soothing circles across the back of your hand. 

“You know I won’t let anything happen to you, right?” he asks after a minute and you nod. 

“I know that,” it’s a barely there whisper. You don’t say anything else. 

“Besides, we’ve got Whitney Houston on speed dial if anything happens,” he means it as a joke but there’s no denying the seriousness lingering in the background. Regardless, it gets a smile out of you albeit small. 

“Wish we could have one more normal moment with it,” you confess and Steve’s lips quirk up a little. 

“What I wouldn’t give to hear Henderson beg me to turn it off just so he doesn’t have to hear us sing along anymore,” the memory causes you to giggle, making the worries plaguing your mind slip away momentarily into the shadows. He can’t help the grin that rises at the sound. 

“He was so mad at us,” you agree, the pit in your chest being replaced with the fire of fond memories. Your giggles fade into a silence. 

“We’ll have more normal moments with it,” Steve says. He moves to share your pillow, your noses touching and his breath warm against your face. He tilts his head up to press a lingering kiss to your forehead and murmurs against your skin, “I promise.”

He kisses you once, reassuring and soft and it feels like home. After a promise from you that it was okay, he lets go of your hand and turns over to click the bedside lamp off. The darkness takes your eyes a second to get used to but you can still feel Steve pressed close to you. Your legs are a mess of limbs, bodies interwoven so you’re not sure where you start and he ends.

You’re so familiar with the feeling you get when you’re reminded how much Steve loves you and as you listen to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you feel it tenfold with how much you love him. He’s falling asleep in front of you and suddenly you feel overwhelmed he even exists.

Steve who always steps first into the battle. Steve who worries so much about everyone else, he barely has time to worry about himself. Steve who doesn’t think twice before protecting the people he loves, even if it leaves him with a busted lip and a black eye. Steve who lets you sleep in his bed whenever the nightmares resurface and you can’t sleep alone.

Through the moonlight filtering in through his curtains, you can make out the fluttering of his eyelids. You chew on your bottom lip, rolling over the constant stream of thoughts in your head. After a minute, you give in.

“Steve?” your voice sounds so small.  

“Hm?” 

It’s muffled and barely audible but your hesitancy bleeds into relief when you hear him. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” your chest tightens in the best way when a sleepy grin slides onto his face, his eyes still closed. 

“”M’love you, too,” his words are slurred, thick with sleep. 

This time, you smooth the, now dry, hair back from his forehead and press a soft kiss to the space revealed. You settle back against the pillow, smiling when he finds your hand in his sleep driven state and squeezes. Your Steve, who even in sleep, makes sure you know how much he loves you.

[hyungieyoongi]

Just Friends

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Angst (y’all I was in my feels) + Fluff + Best Friends to Lovers who are dumb and cannot figure out their feelings + Non!Idol AU

Word Count: 2.3K

Warnings: Mentions of a car accident and the hospital, but nothing gory or sad or scary, I promise!!

---

Jungkook stood up when you entered the coffee shop, the bells tingling above the door to alert the owner that you were there. He held two coffee cups in his hands; you could only assume he had gotten you your favorite. He had memorized your order a long time ago.

His dark hair was pushed back from his forehead, the sleeves of his white button down pushed up, suit jacket hanging off of his chair. He knew you liked to come here after work, figuring he’d run into you eventually if he stuck around.

Your eyes went wide, and you instinctively took a step back, away from him. His face immediately fell, looking hurt that you weren’t beaming at him with a toothy grin like when you were younger—his favorite smile of yours.

The two of you had been best friends since you could toddle, your mothers putting you together for play dates and cooing at how cute the two of you were when you would fall asleep on your play mats next to each other amongst your toys. You were there for each other through your awkward phases in middle school. You cheered for him on the sidelines as he became the high school football star. But you both decided to go your separate ways during college. It was mostly a decision you made out of self-preservation—you had quickly started to realize your feelings for your best friend were no longer platonic.  

You stayed in touch, seeing each other over breaks, your heart faltering a little every time you heard about his latest hookup or fling at his university. You had a serious relationship in grad school—you even thought he could be the one—but you decided to move to different cities after you graduated and couldn’t make it work. Jungkook was there for you while you cried on the phone. Just like he always was. He was the one constant in your life, and the two of you had found your way back to each other, living and working in the same city.

But those feelings of love for him were always there, knocking on your head and your heart, urging you to do something to make them go away. So, you decided to pull back, dodging his calls and making less and less plans. You hoped it would go back to how things were in college—living connected, albeit separate lives, mutually content in your own existences.

Seeing as how he was standing in front of you now, Jungkook didn’t seem to take the hint.

You knocked into the lady coming in behind you in your haste to create space between you and Jungkook, and you quickly apologized when she placed her hands on your shoulders to steady you.

“Careful, sweetie,” she scolded. You gave her a quiet apology. Realizing you were trapped, you sheepishly walked up to your best friend, your lips in a grim line.

“Hi, Jungkook,” you said, your voice cracking with nerves.

“Hey, can you join me? It has been a while. I’d like to...chat,” Jungkook said, hesitantly holding your coffee out to you.

You nodded, sitting down and immediately taking a sip, wincing as the hot liquid burned your throat. Anything was better than having to speak to the person you couldn’t bear to look in the eyes right now.

“You’ve been avoiding me. Tell me why.”

“Jungkook...”

“No, enough of this, tell me what’s going on.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Bullshit.”

You winced, and Jungkook fidgeted in his seat, uncomfortable with the tension at your table.

“Did I...is there something I did wrong?” Jungkook asked, his eyes big with worry.

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” You traced the side of your cup with your finger, focusing on the feeling of the ridges of the hard cardboard as you tried to steady your breathing.

“Then what is it you’re not telling me? Because you practically disappeared for the past month, barely responding to my texts or my calls. I’ve been worried, Y/N. Please just...talk to me.” Jungkook’s eyes were glassy, and you felt the guilt pressing in on you like a physical force at making him feel this way.

“Jungkook, I-I’ve been thinking, and I can’t pretend anymore,” your voice was barely above a whisper, Jungkook leaning in to hear you clearly. “I’ve spent too long being in love with you. I can’t pretend to not be anymore. I’m exhausted.”

“You...you love me? But we’ve always just been friends I-”

“You don’t owe me anything. I just can’t keep living a lie. So, it’s easier to just, not be around you anymore. I can’t be around you anymore,” you pushed back from the table, feeling your eyes sting with unshed tears at your confession.

“No, don’t go, wait-” Jungkook said frantically, fingers wrapping around your wrist to stop you. You pulled your hand back to your side, clenching it in a fist. Your skin burned where he touched you.

“Please-I didn’t know...” Jungkook confessed.

You huffed, frustrated. “Really? Everyone knew. Our mothers knew. Our friends knew. I tried to ignore it; I tried dating other people and had to watch you do the same. Everyone but you could see how stupidly in love with you I was. How can you say you didn’t know?”

“I didn’t! I-I’m sorry, I should have known, but, Y/N, I need a second to think about this!” Jungkook ran his hands through his hair, and you realized that you two were causing quite the scene in the quiet coffee shop. You had to get out of here. Now.

“I can’t give you time right now. I can’t do this. I tried to make this easy for you by gradually leaving your life. Like how I went to college so far away, remember? We were fine then. You’ll be fine now,” you were staring at your shoes, refusing to make eye contact. “Let me go. Please.” You pleaded. Jungkook gulped, clearly wanting to say more, say anything to get you to slow down, let him think through this, but you meant what you said. Every word. You turned, pushing yourself out the door. You didn’t look back to see Jungkook’s devastated face as he watched you leave him.

---

You knew it wasn’t fair—springing your confession onto him when he just wanted to see you, talk to you. You had to do this for your own self-preservation. It was out in the open now, you could move on. You had to move on. Jungkook was strong, he had always been strong. He could get through this. You’d see him at holidays when your families would get together. You could act like old childhood friends that had lost touch. It would all be okay.

At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Jungkook didn’t try to get in touch with you after the confrontation at the cafe. You filled the void caused by the loss of his friendship with work, taking on more responsibilities and spending your time late into the night at the office.

It had been three weeks since you had seen or spoken to Jungkook when you got a call a little past midnight at the office. Not from him, but from your mom. You answered right away, worry coloring your tone.

“Mom? What’s wrong? Is everything okay, it’s late,” you said into the phone.

“Honey, it’s Jungkook. His mom just called me.” You held your breath, fearing the worst. “I know you said the two of you had a falling out, but he’s been in a car accident. Can you go to the hospital?”

You shot out of your seat, immediately grabbing your keys.

“I’m on my way. Where is he?”

---

You tried to keep your breathing steady as you drove to the hospital that Jungkook was taken to, your knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the steering wheel.

Please be okay. Please be okay. You were repeating the mantra silently in your thoughts over and over again.

You found out what room he was in, your steps against the bright linoleum tile ringing in your ears as you made your way to him. You opened the door, expecting the worst.

Jungkook was sitting up in bed, his left arm in a sling. He looked up when he heard the door open, eyes going wide when he saw you. You did a cursory glance over him, checking to see if anything else was out of place. You moved toward him automatically, ignoring the silent plea of your name falling from his lips. You looked him over again, reaching out to place your hands on his cheeks, checking to see if he had any injuries on his face.

“Y/N,” Jungkook tried again, louder this time. You dropped your hands, stepping back, tears stinging your eyes as the realization that he was okay—in a sling, but otherwise fine—hit you.

“Are you okay?” you asked, voice breaking into a sob. Jungkook immediately reached for you, pulling you down next to him, wrapping his right arm around you and into his side.

“Shh, shh, I’m alright, Y/N, it’s okay, I’m okay,” Jungkook reassured you as you cried into his chest.

“My mom called I thought-I was so worried,” you sniffled.

“My phone died as I was on the way to the hospital. I haven’t had a chance to call eomma back. I’m sorry you were so worried.”

You sat up, looking at him incredulously.

“You’re sorry?! You could have been seriously hurt. Look at you-you’re in a sling! I could have lost you, I-I” Jungkook silenced you, placing his right hand on your cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the tears that continued to fall.

“You’ll never lose me, Y/N,” Jungkook whispered. The weight of his words were apparent. You knew he wasn’t just referring to the accident.

“I pushed you away, I was so selfish,” you said, ashamed.

“Hey, hey, I’m right here,” Jungkook said, holding your face in place so you had to keep your eyes on him. “You needed space, and I needed time to think about…everything. None of this is your fault.”

“How can you say that? When I just spouted my feelings at you instead of talking to you like an adult! And tonight, when I heard you were in an accident, all I could think about was how my best friend was all alone and hurt because I was selfish.”

“Please stop saying that, love, please.”

You got up, pacing in front of Jungkook as he sat on the hospital bed, watching you as you wrestled with your emotions, frazzled from the sight of seeing him here, adrenaline wearing thin.  

“Y/N, please sit back down. You look like you’re going to pass out,” Jungkook urged.

“No.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Y/N, come on, sit down. You can’t argue with me, I have a broken wrist, remember?” Jungkook pointed to his sling, using it against you to get you to do what he wanted. You stopped pacing, sitting back down next to him, leaving space between the two of you. He scooted closer, your thighs touching. He grabbed your hand, enclosing your fingers with his with his good hand. He paused for a moment, before speaking calmly despite the situation.

“Did you know I told eomma on my way here to call you? You were the person I cared the most about seeing. You were the only one I wanted here with me. You.”

“Jungkook, I-”

“I’ve been repressing how I’ve felt about you for so long, that when you told me you felt the same way, I didn’t know how to react. I had given up any chance of being with you as more than a friend. I didn’t think there was any possibility that you cared for me, the way I cared for you.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I’ve been in love with you for years. You left for college, you dated that guy in grad school–aish, I can’t believe I had to watch you almost get engaged to that man,” Jungkook squeezed your hand tighter at this. “I had to watch you from the wings like it wasn’t killing me. I thought when we moved back to the same city as adults we might have a chance. That I would finally be brave enough to tell you how in love with you I’ve been this whole time.”

Your mouth opened slightly, shocked at his statement. You had pictured this moment a hundred times—the bright lights of the hospital and the smell of disinfectant spray around you was not what you had pictured. But the feeling of your heart seeming to swell to twice its size—that was exactly like you had imagined it.

“You love me?” you echoed his words to you in the café back to him, Jungkook chuckling at your expression.

“Yes, I do. And I am really hoping that you still love me, too.”

“Of course, I do,” you breathed, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

“Ow, ow, watch out,” Jungkook warned, maneuvering you out of the way of his injured arm, but pulling you tighter to him anyway. “Now will you please stop avoiding me so I can be with my best friend? With the girl I love?” Jungkook murmured into your hair. You nodded against his neck, a smile overtaking his features at your silent response.

“I’m going to have to drive you everywhere, aren’t I?” you asked as you pulled back from his grip, smiling at him despite your sarcastic tone. Jungkook scrunched his nose, his eyes squinting in amusement at your question.

“It’s part of the deal–being in love with me means you have to help me recover.”

“And how are you going to repay me?”

Jungkook leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours.

“How about we start with this?” You met him the rest of the way, eagerly pushing your lips against his as you melted into the kiss, carding your fingers through his hair as his arm held you securely by your waist next to him on the bed. His lips felt like home.

You just hoped the doctor didn’t walk in any time soon.

---

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[sylverstorms]

Cassandra x Maiden----Anonymity Ch.3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Your quiet days in castle Dimitrescu met their end the moment Cassandra took an interest in you.

You should have known. Perhaps you did know and just didn’t want to admit it.

The woman –vampire, mutant, what even are they— is a bipolar sadist.

One night she may be walking down the halls sending you a sexy wink under her hood as she passes you by, the next she could show up out of nowhere and cut you ‘hello’ with her sickle, scoop up the blood with her thumb to taste, then disappear again. The evening after that, she may not even give a damn about you, may not spare you a single fleeting glance, like even the notion you could be worth her time is laughable.

And it is, isn’t it.

Humans are nothing to them. Your significance is below that of a pet. You may as well be livestock. It doesn’t matter, though, so long as you continue to breathe and remain intact. They’re the two essential factors to escaping. All else is secondary.

It doesn’t matter how Cassandra views you.

You don’t even like her.

What is there to even be drawn to? She’s covered in blood more often than not. The scent of iron usually drowns out her perfume. She’s capricious and cruel and the living personification of an unsheathed knife. You prefer your routes safer. Playful, creative pretty girls that are good for you and most importantly, sane.

Whatever weird tricks your brain and hormones are playing where she stars –you hate it, what is wrong with you— they’re just delusions, you reason, born from her questionable flirting and your time in captivity. It’s just a really bothersome case of Stockholm Syndrome you’re developing. And it has to stop.

Another week passes. You don’t see her.

You are on another night shift when you hear the telltale buzzing of insects down the corridor. Hervoice reaches your ear afterwards;

“Ugh, Bela, you never complain about anything. It’s so annoying.” Two pairs of heels steadily tap towards you.

“I leave it to you and Dani to cover for me, since you complain about everything.” The quieter sister drawls. You can easily picture her roll her eyes as she says it.

“You know, you really should sound more thankful I came with you in this unearthly cold.”

“I gave you the option not to—”

“Just to have you rummage through that bookshop for what was definitely the most boring twenty minutes of my life.” Cassandra continues.

From the fleeting glance you steal at them, the entirety of her attention is on Bela. You don’t think she’ll notice you as you continue polishing the corridor’s decorations. It’s just another one of these nights where you don’t exist and you’re deeply glad for it. Not just for yourself, but also the other maids.

“I thought I was going to die of frostbite.” she growls, shaking the elder sister’s arm.

“Technically, you can’t.” Bela shakes hers back.

It would be… cute, if they were any normal family. But you are quick to remind yourself of what they really are. Devils in human form. Monsters that took you from your home and trapped you here, to clean after their mess, with the threat of death looming over your head every second.

Their steps pass you by. You can almost breathe normally again, when—

Cassandra stops.

“Not even going to tell me hello?” The hurt in her voice can’t be genuine, you tell yourself as you turn around to face her. She’s closer than you thought, enough for you to be able to make out the tiny melting snowflakes caught in her long lashes.

“Um—hello.” you say, awkwardly.

“Cassandra.” Bela lets out a soft sigh.

“Bye, Bela.” The brunette pointedly speaks over her shoulder.

And to your horror… “Just keep in mind what mother said about the maids.” the eldest sister leaves you alone with her.

Each further step until the blonde disappears from view fills you with dread. Cassandra has that spark in her eye that you’ve learned to not associate with anything good. She’s completely still until she’s sure the two of you won’t be overheard or interrupted.

Then, she moves.

Her hands all too easily shove you against the wall. It’s more startling than painful, you realize, when your back doesn’t protest much at the collision.

Cassandra maintains eye contact with you as she tugs at the fingers of her gloves. You cannot fathom why it looks that sexy, the way she pulls them off, whether it is intentional or not.

“Plaything.” she says. Another new nickname for you. Not that you ever expected her to care to know your name. “I’m terribly cold.” she doesn’t seem to be lying, though the soft pout that curves her mouth is surely for effect.

It’s a test and your wellbeing depends on it.

Only, you have no idea what you’re supposed to do. Ruling your nerves under control, you decide to start slow. “Shall I light the fireplace in your room, my lady?”

“Maybe I want something more… immediate.” she replies, raising her hand to your neck.

The second her freezing skin touches your flesh, you cannot help but flinch. It feels like a slightly softer block of ice. Cassandra’s eyes creak at the corners. Of course, the sadist is enjoying your torment. Slowly, her fingers move under the collar of your black button-up shirt, which only makes it worse. The cold spreads, a peculiar tingle at your stomach with it.

“Well?” she asks. You get the memo that just sitting back and letting her have her way isn’t going to work, this time. You call upon all the willpower you possess and act.

Carefully, your hands rise to meet her own. You aren’t looking at her in the eyes –you don’t think you could— as your fingers wrap around hers and bring them in front of you, close to your body, warmed from hours of work. Instead, your gaze locks on the golden jewel decorating the chocker at her throat, before falling down, to your point of contact.

It is not the first time you see her hands without gloves on, but it only now hits you just how dainty they look. Her nails, filed round, are dyed a darker shade of crimson, stark against the white of her skin. There isn’t a single blemish or uneven spot you can feel on her palm. It is a princess’ hand you seem to be holding, not a killer’s.

But appearances can be deceiving.

The very corner of Cassandra’s lip curls up, amused or pleased or both. She then reaches forward, at the lowest clasped button of your shirt… and frees it open. You’re sure you aren’t breathing. Two more buttons are released. Her fingers, at least now considerably warmer, splay against your stomach. Something inside you quivers like a flickering candlefire.

You don’t want her touch.

But a traitorous, weak part of you has already decided that it does.

“You work out?” it is merely a whisper between you. She presses a little closer, entirely unashamed to be feeling the contours of your middle up while you’re burning with embarrassment.

“…probably the days of working in the fields.” you say, voice low because it cannot be trusted any higher. She’s doing a little thing with her thumb over your skin that you desperately want to deny turns you on.

Thanks to her you’re now freezing and burning at the same time.

Cassandra just stays like that for a few more seconds.

“Draw me a hot bath.” she eventually orders and extracts herself from you as if she’s not remotely happy with her own decision.

-

-

You don’t really know how she likes her bath and she doesn’t tell you.

All you can do as you test the water on your hand is pray. Your mind isn’t really working right after the touching at the hallway, but your survival instincts are strong still. Strong enough to remind you that Cassandra likes to be treated like royalty above all, so bubbles are your best friend in this. The more, the merrier.

The Dimitrescu daughter does not ask if the bath is ready when she comes in. You aren’t used to her being so silent, so you turn to see if something is wrong –but immediately regret it when the heavy robe clinging to her body drops down. The only glimpse you catch is of the fabric pooling at her feet like a shadow.

Your eyes stay glued on the queen-sized bathtub, even when she approaches. They turn to the side as she enters it.

You want to ask if the water is fine, but you can’t find your voice. You lose even your train of thought when she lets out a small hiss as she sinks in, replaced by a moan once she’s completely settled back, neck tilted and eyes closed in bliss. The polite thing is to let her bathe in peace, so you move to do just that.

Cassandra has other plans.

Her hand shoots out of the tub to wrap around your wrist, inescapable as an iron shackle. Those intense yellowish eyes are on you again and they seem to be glowing under the dim lights.

“No.” she says. “Massage. Now.”

Ah, great. You think. You’ve spoiled her. But if giving Cassandra massages is what is going to keep your hands attached to your body, you won’t complain. It’s just that… you can’t really focus right now. None of your thoughts are right or remotely what they should be. You need time off from her, rather than touching her.

Thankfully, the moans are kept to a minimum and there is no teasing. She is utterly relaxed, only giving the occasional command for higher or lower. It does kind of kill you when at one point she whispers “Right there.” but you are able to move past it.

You leave fresh towels beside her when you’re finally allowed to leave. Back in her bedroom, you light the fireplace in a way that you make sure will last through the day, while she’ll be asleep. The plan is to leave before she returns, but she’s already there by the time you’re finished with the preparations.

And –you’re trapped.

Because, again, she’s changing and you have to look away to preserve your sanity and probably your eyes. “No peeping, now.” she calls over her shoulder. You know better than to dare.

You keep your hands busy arranging bottles and boxes at her vanity until she’s done. Cassandra does that ‘flashing’ thing where she’s on one side of the room one moment and right behind you the next. You only then notice a little insect flying back into her form. It was spying on you.

“You didn’t even look near me, huh.” she says it like ‘congratulations, you passed’, but there’s a bitter undertone of disappointment in her voice.

She’s only feeling down that you didn’t give her an excuse to slice at your face, you think. Then again, does she really need one?

“I wouldn’t, my lady.” you assure. “If I may be excused—”

“Did I say you can go?” she turns you around, none-too-gently, her hands on your biceps tight. You’re effectively pinned against her and the vanity, but you have much bigger problems to worry about, when you take in what she’s wearing.

Cassandra is clad in a flimsy nightrobe that leaves little to the imagination, the fabric nearly see-through. You can see the edges of her lacy underwear underneath it, how nicely it sits against her perfect curves. To make matters even worse, the robe ends at about mid-thigh and your eye catches the expanse of creamy skin on display.

Your brain nearly melts.

“I don’t know what it is about you, plaything, but you’re working up my appetite.” she confesses, pressing into you, pressing you harder into the furniture. You try to think of literally anything else than how well her thigh is slotted between your legs.

If you’re supposed to look away from her lidded eyes, however, you can’t. And if you’re not supposed to feel the echo of her nails on your arm all the way down to your center, you can’t. You are definitely not supposed to be so achingly curious about her bow-shaped lips. But you just can’t.

“You’re working me up.” she breathes, so close you can feel the ghost of her lower lip on yours.

And then –her mouth is on you and you forget how to breathe. Your eyes close and just feel, instead. If this is how you die, maybe it isn’t such a bad way to go. It’s been too long since you kissed anyone, seems like ages ago now, but you gradually remember how to move once you allow your muscles to unlock.

Not looking at her makes it easier. Her lips are balmy and smooth and slide so good on your own you can’t think at all, much less of what she’s capable of. You would have guessed her to be aggressive, but Cassandra is oddly hesitant, the only thing hard about her being her grip.

You’re not sure what you’re doing or how you get so bold, but your hands trail up to her waist and pull her in. The little hitch in her breath threatens to break you. It provides the perfect opening to part her lips with your tongue. As soon as it touches hers, she moans low in her throat and slowly drags her hips against your thigh.

Oh. God.

There’s a hollow ache in your stomach. You’re shamefully wet for her. The voice of reason is mute in your head, until you’re forced to break your liplock to breathe and it only then hits you what you’ve just done.

Cassandra’s lips are insistent on your jawline, on the vulnerable spot under your ear. Her open-mouthed kisses are just hard enough, at first, but then start to border on painful. Your heart skips a beat when you feel the press of teeth, yet she rips herself off of you before she bites down.

“Ugh. I’m… so thirsty.” she says it lightly, but her voice is hoarse and something about her body language gives you the impression she’s hurting. “You should leave. Fast.”

You almost make the mistake of reaching for her. Almost.

Cassandra turns away from the temptation of your veins.

For both your sakes –mostly for yours— you hurry out of her room and never stop to look back.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Can you please do 26 15 19 with Kit Walker?? Thank you so much and I hope you're having a wonderful day💗💗

Kit Walker’s Nurse at Briarcliffe

15. “Wanna bet?”

19. “You either cum now, or not at all.”

26. “First one to cum is the loser.”

Summary- You’re a nurse at Briarcliffe and you and Kit have fun together. This one instance you leave him hanging so you make it up to him. Twice.

Words- 2.4k

Thank you for all of your requests! They’re so fun to do, please keep them coming! They’re taking me a while but they’re coming! 

As always feedback and requests are super duper appreciated! Also thank you for such a quick solid following! Also thank you @kitwalker02 I’m having a wonderful day and enjoyed doing your request, I hope you like it.

Enjoy:)

-------

You leave room 7 and walk towards your trolley to collect the next set of medicine. You pick up the medicine cup and swirl around the indistinct white pills. A sigh of relief leaves your mouth as you look down the corridor and notice you only have a few patients left to give medicine to. You drag your finger down your clipboard list of patients and smile noticing that Kit Walker is next. Although working as a nurse in a mental asylum is difficult, it’s sweet and grateful patients like Kit who make the nightmares worth it. You push your key through the door to unlock his room and walk in, greeted by the sight of Kit tied up to his bed, like usual. His eyes wander around the room bored but when they meet yours, they sparkle and his whole face lights up. He smiles at you and you shut his door and walk over to him.

“Morning Walka”, you say mocking his accent. One of the main things about him that make you tingle and melt inside. He playfully rolls his eyes and opens his mouth when you put the medicine cup near his face. You sprinkle the few pills in his mouth, and he swallows them dry. You smile and stay still, standing by his bed. As much as you wish you could sit and spend the whole day with him, there are other patients who need tending to and it’s unfair for them to be neglected just because Kit’s accent makes you wet. You sigh softly and take a few steps towards the door before Kit’s innocent and happy voice stops you.

“Hey nurse, suh-thing to wash it down with?”

You look at him and place the cup on the table besides him. Although every bone in your body knew it was wrong, you did what your heart and lady bits told you to. You lean down to him and look him in his dark brown lustful eyes.

“I have something special you could wash it down with”, you say smirking. Flirting wasn’t particularly your forte, but you hoped he caught your drift. And boy he did. His usual soft and sweet expression was overpowered by hunger and excitement, as he looks down at your lips. A naughty smile creeps up on your face as you carefully climb his bed, hoping to stay quiet. Knowing Kit’s skill, that was almost impossible. You try to keep your trembling legs still as you straddle his chest, about to move up to his face and have a comfortable sit.

“Nurse, could you get me with a problem, while you’re here?”. You look at him worried, before his eyes motion down. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not in danger, and the problem he’s referring to was the tightness in his underwear. You smirk at him seeing his massive bulge and whisper to him.

“That’s what I’m here for”.

His smile widens as he can’t contain his excitement. You turn around, your ass practically in his face, and you gently slide your skirt up, to reveal your bare ass. You look over your shoulder at Kit sucking in his lips and looking at how dirty you are to not have underwear on. You give him a cheeky wink before you lean down and get on your hands and knees. You lift his gown and look at his paper-thin underwear. You moan softly looking at his massive cock about to rip through and slide down his underwear slowly. His cock springs up and Kit gasps at the cool air hitting him.

“C’mon nurse, we don’t have all day”.

Kit was tied up by his hands and ankles while you had the keys to every room in the asylum. You could throw him in isolation for a week with just one word, but the clear authority you had over him didn’t change the fact that it was him who owned you. You obeyed his daring words and push your ass closer to his face. You lean down until he can reach your soaking pussy and he blows on it, making you shiver. Knowing the powerful effect he had on you, he proposes a deal.

“First one to cum is the loser”.

You bit your lip instinctively at his dirty words and sexy accent and nod.

“Winner gets a treat”.

Kit lets out a chuckle at your addition and gets to work, lapping up your soaking heat. You gasp at his eagerness and tighten your grip on his gown. Within a few seconds you can feel yourself get even wetter in his mouth before you are snapped back to reality (oop there goes gravity) when Kit stops his incredible work.

“Are ya forgettin’ something, nurse?”, you laugh awkwardly before you lean down and stroke his cock. He groans quietly and goes back to licking you. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and suckle on it, running your tongue around it. How hard he feels in your mouth and hands turns you on even more. You become a part of an incredible cycle, where the occasional harder suck on Kit makes him groan, and the vibration that gives you, makes you moan. Though you both know you had to stay quiet, you couldn’t help but want to scream about how good he makes you feel. With one last powerful suck on your clit, you try your hardest not to moan and instead whimper, releasing into his mouth. Kit licks up everything you give him and continues sucking after you’re clean.

You shakily sit up from his cock and gently get off him, standing on your shaky legs. Kit looks at you and licks his lips, earning a soft laugh out of you.

“Looks like I win”, Kit says cockily. “Can I have my treat now?”. He says thrusting up as best as he can, considering his restraints.

But quiet footsteps coming from the corridor make your eyes widen and your hands immediately straighten out your skirt. You quickly put Kit’s boner back into his underwear and cover him with his gown, giving him an apologetic look as you walk to the door. He throws his head back and sighs. You shut and lock the door behind you, trying to look as calm and regular as possible. You smile warmly at Mary Eunice right outside as she takes the medicine trolley from you and gives you a different task to do. You hesitantly agree to do what she tells you and walk out of that ward. Guilt fills your stomach as you imagine Kit tied up, not being able to help himself. You try to focus on the task at hand, sweeping the common room, and ignore the idea of Kit hot and desperate.

Your sweet spot for that man was reciprocated, and it wasn’t a secret. All the nuns and nurses knew that you were the only one who could get Kit to behave or do things he didn’t want to do. You were the only one who believed in his innocence and the only one who didn’t treat him like a criminal nor a looney. You trained to be a nurse to help people in need but instead your main job at Briarcliffe became being Kit’s nanny.

After what felt like ages, you swept up the whole common room and began cleaning it up in general. You put all the checker pieces back to the box and collected all the magazines from the room to make a pile. But your mind wasn’t on the tedious task, and instead still on the handsome brunette with a raging hard on from half an hour ago. Your legs tingled at the thought of him slurping you up, and just as you close your eyes to try to recollect the feeling, your dirty thoughts are interrupted by the door creaking open. You look over at Mary Eunice, who explains to you that Dr. Arden wishes to do some check ups on some of the patients.

“He’ll get through them all eventually, but it’d be easier for everybody if we got Kit Walker out of the way”, Mary Eunice explained, half rolling her eyes, evident in her voice that he isn’t her favorite.

“Doctor Arden called and said he’d be here in like half an hour, why don’t you go take Walker to his office? He’s less likely to bite you”. The way she talked about him made your chest burn. He was a grown man and not a child or a wild animal that only you could tame. He was a man who expected respect before he gave it back, and she wasn’t willing to give him it. You nod and shove the magazines you collected into her hands, before promptly walking out. It was clear that she wasn’t happy with your attitude, but you didn’t care. Her recent change in character wasn’t on your mind, not when you were minutes away from seeing your Kit again.

You walk to his room and unlock the door. He looks over at you with a blank expression and you force a smile. Without saying anything, you uncuff him from his bed and help him sit up. He looks at you with a puzzled expression, but you stay silent. You cuff his hands together and walk with him to Arden’s office.

When you get there, after a quiet trip, you’re surprised to see his office still locked. You simply unlock it and let yourself in, and lay Kit down on the table. Mary Eunice warned that Dr. Arden wasn’t here yet but on his way, which gave you and Kit some quality time. As you cuff his hands and ankles to the bed, you look at him apologetically. Before you have time to say anything, Kit speaks.

“Listen nurse, you heard Mary, you scrammed, I get it. We woulda got in trouble otherwise.” You smile at him and place your hand on his chest. “I’m not mad at cha, don’t worry”, Kit continued.

“Well… I’m sorry I left you hanging”. You circle your fingers on his chest for a few seconds before confidently walking towards the door and locking it from the inside. Kit looks over at you with his eyebrows furrowed and you lean close to him.

“I’ll make it up to ya”. You say, once again mocking his accent. You leave a tender kiss on his lips and he happily accepts. You waste no time and slide your hand down his chest to his pants and cup him. You run your fingers along his dick in his pants and he gasps against your lips. Excited once again, you flip his gown up and take out his hardening cock. You give him a few pumps before cupping his now swollen balls. You stroke him and squeeze him and he slowly fills the office with soft moans. The idea of Dr. Arden coming any time soon and you having to stop and leave him hanging once again fills you with dread and you jerk Kit off faster. You look at him to make sure he doesn’t feel rushed and his groans suggest he doesn’t mind your new pace.

“You gotta hurry kitten”.

Kit looks at you and tells you off, “Ain’t this my treat? Don’t rush me”. You look at Kit’s smug expression, him rubbing it in your face that you didn’t last long.

“You either cum now, or not at all”. Kit’s once confident expression softens and he looks at you with pleading eyes and whines again. You look at him sternly.

“Dr. Arden might come soon”. Kit opens his mouth to protest, “But-”, but doesn’t finish his sentence. Your eyes widen realizing the mess he might make, and you quickly bend down and wrap your wet lips around his tip and suck on him harshly. He groans and gets harder in your hand.

“Not if I cum first”, he moans.

He groans and wriggles against his restrains before releasing his load in your mouth. You continue sucking on him, his moans urging you to continue. You slide your mouth down him and start sucking him off properly. He looks down at you confused and tries to make out a coherent sentence despite your mouth working on his sensitive cock.

“But I already- oh fuck, -I already came…I can’t cum again”.

You pull your mouth off him and continue pumping him with your hand. You spit on his cock, your filthy action making Kit gasp.

“Wanna bet?”.

You bend down and suck on his balls, as he throws his head back and shuts his eyes tightly shut. After being denied an orgasm an hour ago, his first orgasm came quickly. And now with you sucking his soul out of his body before he had time to come down from his first high, Kit groans and fights against his cuffs harder and sooner. Feeling him twitch you quickly take your hands off him and take as much of him as you can into your mouth. You slide down on him and in his fight against the cuffs, he thrusts and hits the back of your throat, making him cum instantly. You resist the urge to choke and swallow everything he gives you. He slowly starts to come down from his high and you suck him a little longer, until he whimpers making you stop. You pull your mouth from around him with a satisfying pop sound and wink at him. He tries to catch his breath and looks at you tired. As you lean down to kiss his cheek, you both hear a key going in the door. You look at the door and Kit quickly thrusts and motions to his dick. Your eyes widen and you hurriedly put his now soft cock back in his underwear and pull his gown down. Dr. Arden enters the room the second you finish and only sees you run your hand down his gown straightening it out. He greets you both and walks over to his desk to find Kit’s file. Taking opportunity of him looking away, you imitate holding a clip board and whisper to Kit.

“Willingness to eat pussy?”, you look down at Kit and he smiles and mouths ‘ten out of ten’. You pretend to write it down and whisper one last thing to him, before going back to your regular job as a nurse.

“Ability to ejaculate? Ten out of ten”.

[wandsandwheezes]

NASCAR III | G.W

WARNINGS // 6.9k // SMUT 18+, George x Reader // Fred x unnamed OC, Angry Fred, Racer!George, light angst, fighting, rough sex, soft sex, breeding kink af, mentions of alcohol, cars, sex, possession, praise kink, a (tiny) amount of degradation, oral, unprotected sex, one ass slap.

A/N // the series that nobody expected to become a series has now officially done just that. @darthwheezely​ and I do be hoes for these racer boys xoxo 🏎🦋 ILYSM PHIA MWAH <333

“Fred, have you seen my jumper?”

“Yeah, it’s on the bed, baby” he called. Fred was not often a meticulous man, but (as Lee said) ‘if the fit called for a bit of work, it was always worth it.’ 

And to Fred, going to a press conference with his exceptionally hot fiancé warranted at least basic perfection, right?

Fred made a low whistle as she came out of the bathroom, a towel around her. “Well, aren’t you just a sight for sore eyes.” She came to stand in front of him, pressing one, two, three kisses to his mouth, the flavour of fresh toothpaste still on her mouth. He hummed in contentment and wrapped his hands around her waist.

“Love, it’ll be fine, this will be my tenth, glorious win-“

“-and you almost got in a crash last time because you were being a tosser, remember?”

“Mmmm, that’s in the details,” he said softly. He searched her eyes and sighed, pulling her flush  into his body.

“I promise I’ll be okay this time, you know I’m a great driver and that this isn’t anything different...I still intend on marrying you in one piece, you know.” She chuckled at that and he tilted her chin up, pressing a kiss to her forehead and murmuring:

“I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you, Freddie...even though you are a tosser.” 

He slung her over his shoulder, rolling his eyes dramatically, and threw her on the bed, her giggling at the action.

“There’s my saucy little minx, now how about a pre-press test drive, yeah?...”

—

“I can’t just not go, babe.” George sighed, pushing the hair from his face, a sudden clammy feeling of his clothes against his skin indicating just how nervous he was for the up and coming press conference. 

“You’re running a fever, George, I’ll call Lee and tell him that you need the rest and that–” You rambled, pressing the cool back of your hand against his forehead, then neck and chest, feeling that thin veil of sweat forming against his hot skin.

“Don’t.” He mumbled all too abruptly, cutting your flow of words short. Furrowing your brows, you looked down at him before shaking your head. He recognised the tone at which he had spat his word, immediately pulling your hand into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “I’m sorry I snapped, I know you’re only looking out for me.”

“It’s okay, Georgie, I still think you should stay here with me.” You sighed, climbing over his legs to be sat in his lap as you breathed out softly, watching as his eyes softened only for his eyebrow to raise, a smirk soon finding his lips while his hands rested on your waist.

“Any old excuse to keep me at the hotel then, eh?” George licked his lips, pulling you closer into his chest as he eyed your expression, the giggle that fell from his lips like pure music to his ears.

“I just want you better for the race, idiot.” You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose, his lips finding your cheeks to pepper kisses there with a smug grin on his face.

“I think I could win this one you know, regardless of me being sick or not, I have a good feeling about it.” He hummed, forehead pressed against yours lovingly.

“What makes you say that?” You prodded, running your hands through the hair at the back of his head.

“I have one thing nobody else has; you.” He praised, only for you to bury your face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep breath as his hands ran up your back. “I love you so much, angel.”

“I love you too, George, more than you’ll ever know.”

—

The conference room was packed - that’s an understatement, really. Every journalist alive came to talk to the new dominators of modern NASCAR racing, George and Fred Weasley. Although, as George spitefully knew:

He was somewhere because of Fred. Again.

That familiar feeling of resentment threatened to bubble in the younger twin’s throat, and he immediately began to push it down. The fights, the mutual disgust and disdain - that was done now. Ten wins for Fred should mean legitimately less than nothing but excitement for his older brother. 

So why was that feeling still there? 

“Hello, everyone, I’m sorry I’m late!” Fred entered from the back of the stage, nothing but glimmer (and gloat) in the elder twin’s face. Good mood Fred could always either be an impending disaster, or one of the best things the world has ever seen.

Of course he’s late, he’s always late, George thought, before guilt immediately settled in. 

Fred took a bottle of water, winking playfully at the young lady who got him one, before settling in his seat next to George. 

“Right then, questions?” Fred boomed, that familiar sunshine of a smile very evident on his face. The man behind them, George’s manager was directing questions, and George swallowed at what questions would appear. 

“This is for Fred, do you predict another victory in this race?” The journalist asked.

Fred leaned a bit forward in his seat and dipped his mouth into the microphone:

“Does the pope wear a big hat, love?”

George however sniggered to himself at the question, holding back a laugh at Fred’s answer. Of course he would answer in the cockiest way known to man, only lighting a fire under the younger twin’s arse to kick into gear and take the baby driver down a few pegs. 

“Something funny, Georgie?” Fred turned his head slightly to the side, the smile still there, but dark eyes venturing into icier territory.

“Nothing, Brother, just think you should remember there is always tough competition, no matter how cocksure you are.” George murmured loud enough into the microphone for his words to reverberate around the room, some reporters eyeing each other before vigorously taking notes. 

Fred had been taking a sip of his water and nearly choked, eliciting a “sorry everyone!” into the microphone. He gave George a brief side eye, but no - he wasn’t going to let him ruin his moment again. They’ve moved past this, George can have his own fun, why couldn’t he be a little confident for a change?

“Hi, this question is for George,” Fred only heard that much before a brief but very definite prickle of resentment tingled at his skin. He started to feel a bit warm but was determined to brush it off, turning towards George a bit.

“You’ve had a fantastic season these past couple years, and although you’ve lost the past ten races, you still stick to the top five - will we get our own Crimson Wonder back, or is that Fred’s title now?” 

George held back on his instinct to bite at his brother’s ego, instead taking a sip of water to collect his thoughts before speaking, his mind trailing back to the words he had said this morning; ‘I have a good feeling about this one’.

“Fred and I both train hard, as does every other racer out on that track,” George swallowed thickly before continuing his sentence, “But I think my own winning streak is far from over, who knows, as you say, you may get your Crimson Wonder back yet.” 

Fred attempted to register and probably stop the inherently blank expression on his face, but honestly? It was too much. Yes, George was great, and yes, he was proud of him but.

Why was there a deeply unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach? Twintuition as they called it was something not out of the ordinary at all - but why was it that somewhere in the back of his mind he just felt this...this negative foresight.

There was one thing Fred didn’t like more than avocados (Fred hated avocados) and that was losing.

“My baby brother, so inspirational isn’t he? Gets it from my mum, absolutely.” Fred curled his lips into his mouth, gnawing on his bottom lip, in complete understanding of what he just said. The reporters didn’t have to know that any time he brought up their age or said my mum instead of our mum, it kind of lit a match in George. 

In short, Fred knew exactly what he was doing. And George didn’t really like that, but he wasn’t about to stoop to Fred’s level and ruin his public imagery, not with his wife-to-be and his sister-in-law-to-be watching and murmuring to each other with pained faces: they knew the tension was there too, of course they had.

“I think we should leave the rest of the heat for rubber burning on the track.” The moderator cut in, taking final questions from the press aimed at the others on the panel, letting the twins simmer in their own jealousy toward one another as the conference came to a close.

The boys’ demeanours had completely shifted, George staying behind to take pictures and leave autographs for fans, smile on his face and a sense of pride in his chest, while Fred had made a swift exit in just the way he arrived, looking absolutely miserable.

—

“Georgie,” Fred called out from the locker rooms, “just what the fuck was that?” His bare chest red while he angrily scrambled to get his uniform on.

“Please,” George scoffed, zipping his uniform up calmly, before pushing his bag into his locker with ease, “I could ask you the same question.” 

“I was actually trying to give the press what they wanted, a good show, you, on the other hand, just wanted to be a proper arsehole in front of everyone.” He slammed his locker door shut, his knuckles on his hand against it surely white now from childish rage.

George closed his locker with force, not so much anger, running a hand through his hair before picking up his helmet, his tongue truly in his cheek, the angel on his shoulder begging him to stay quiet while the devil paralleled telling him that it was about time he spoke his feelings. “I’m the arsehole? Check your own actions first, mate.” 

He breathed but he wasn’t done, the words flowing like vomit as he finally let go all of the bottled aggression, “You don’t know the first thing about being a racer, how fucking tiring it is and you use it against me like its something I’m not good at and I’m fucking tired of it.” 

George went to continue, but the guilt of spitting every thought in his brain suddenly overcame him, instead he clutched at his helmet a little tighter, taking a deep breath before muttering as he walked away, “Good luck out there, you’ll need it.”

Fred stood there watching him walk away, something a bit more unfair that self-loathing and resentment lingering in his chest. It was dizzying, it was a feeling he altogether hated and actively tried to pretend he didn’t have.

Fred Weasley, in short, was guilty. 

—

The Arizona sun was beating down on the track, everyone watching on with baited breath as each car lined up on the Phoenix Raceway, engines revving in anticipation of the start of the race. Fred was clutching at his steering wheel tightly, blinkered only on one thing; winning this one. George however, knew the racers he was up against; some of the best in the NASCAR cup and even some that had been driving as long as he had been alive, was lucky to find himself there, taking a deep breath. George wasn’t a religious man but in that moment he was praying to whatever god to grant him some good luck. 

The green flag waved, signalling the start of the race, each car zooming by as the engines roared. The race was a tough one and everyone watching on knew that. The first ten or so laps went just as smoothly as planned, a backhaul crash in the 18th lap just missing the twins, but nevertheless cutting the number of racers pretty much immediately in half. 

George grew more confident as he crept up the rankings, sitting comfortably in about 6th place for a grand majority of the race, while Fred trailed much behind him in about 8th place. The tension of the conference had truly stumped the older twin, pushing him to want to be up in the top dogs, but to no avail, every attempt was blocked for him. 

The final three laps, George was in fourth and Fred was nowhere to be seen, well sat in his 11th place, seething at his inevitable loss. The younger twin was content with his placing, watching the third place drop down to 5th pushing him into the top 3. George swore he felt every single beat of his heart as he zoomed past the lap line. Two to go. Third place was enough for George, especially in a race like this. He zoomed past the lap line again. White Flag. Last chance.

In a flash, a car from behind George pushed forward, striking the first place car, sending three cars spiralling off the track leaving behind only dust sparks and fire in their tacks. It didn’t click for George that he had passed the finish line in 1st place until it blared through his headset.

“I fucking did what?” He shouted as he continued speeding around the track, the confirmation of his win ringing through his ears as he let out a loud but satisfied yell, the stress of weeks of losses finally leaving him in an exhale, welcoming the new feeling of pride. 

Fred in the heat of the crash had fallen to 12th place, pushing him to be the last of all the cars on the track past the finish line - a loss he was not ready to accept no matter how much pride beamed from him hearing the news that the winner had been his own twin brother. 

—

“George, how does it feel to have a trophy back?” 

“Honestly, it feels so surreal - I’m so grateful for my team, crew, and absolutely amazing fiancée, Y/N - I love you so much, baby,” he shouted over the noise, cameras completely swamping the victory stage and hallway down to the bar. He had everything he could’ve wanted, you, a real win again, happy sponsors - but there was one thing missing.

Fred. Where was Fred? Did it really matter? He knew he hadn’t placed very far, but surely he wouldn’t be that angry would he? But then - no. No, George won, he deserved to win again after Fred had been hogging all the sunny days and he was still supportive. So where was his twin now? Even after everything.

He stopped you on his arm and said: “actually, there is one more person I really do have to thank.” He faced directly towards the camera, you utterly confused.

“Thank you, Freddie, for being the best supportive big brother a guy could ask for. You’ve always been a winner to me.” And with a shaky swallow, knowing he wasn’t here, knowing he probably could give a shit whether George thanked him or not, he went off with you on his arm to have a drink.

God knows he needed it.

—

The older twin sat in the lockers, his elbows resting on his knees, his bare arms and chest tensing periodically with pure and spiteful rage. What the absolute fuck had he done differently? He had been on his highest alert, his most pristine focus, what went wrong? 

He didn’t crash, he didn’t bitch and moan to his pit crew, he didn’t fly off the handle - yet - so why did he get the curt, “I’m sorry, son, we all lose sometimes,” from Vinnie, his new manager like it was just normal. 

Fred Weasley didn’t lose. Especially not after a ten time winning streak, no, he refused. 

So there he sat, knowing his fiancé was probably making excuse after excuse as to why her husband had fled the cameras and the questions, why he wasn’t congratulating his brother on his fantastic win - but he didn’t have the energy to feel guilt. All he felt was loathing. He barely didn’t register the soft clicking of his soon to be wife’s heels clacking against the tile floor. 

“Fred Weasley, what the fuck are you doing naked in the locker room, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she said with great exasperation. She looked stunning, in that pretty little two piece skirt and black crop number, not at all like a woman frantically in search of her formula 1 MIA husband. 

“You look great, sweetheart,” he mumbled, barely looking up at her before getting up and turning to his locker, getting out his change of clothes. She watched his back ripple with tension and at the sight alone felt her thighs break for a second.

“So were you planning on telling me where you were or just sulking in here?” 

“I was taking a shower, actually...I don’t get why you’re so pissed at me.” He snapped, not even bothering to turn around. 

“I’m ‘pissed’ at you because your brother loves you and you’re in here acting like a five year old who got his teddy taken away from him.” She retorted. Fred turned around then, slamming the locker door shut for the second time that day, the sound echoing in the bathroom. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say to me?” He seemed to punctuate every word in the sentence, but his voice very quiet - too quiet. 

“You’re - just get your clothes on and knock it off, Weasley,” she scoffed, trying to walk off the very minor but very palpable fear she felt, and the evident arousal pooling in her thighs. Fred, unfortunately, knew this, and in Fred fashion, was feeling quite a good many ways about this. 

“Get your ass back here, right now, sweetheart,” he snapped, his volume gaining to a low roar. When she kept on walking to the door, his long legs loped to a brisk walk in front of the doorway, right in front of her. She didn’t realize that she was holding her breath for a second until she exhaled, and his thumb came up to grace her bottom lip.

“Open,” he said quietly, and then she did listen, her lips opening up to his thumb immediately. He always did this mannerism, when he said open he’d open his mouth too, almost showing her how she needed to be before usually saying “theeere, it is” but right now, he was silent, his mouth pressed in a thin line. 

But then she bit. And hard. Pushing him off her and making him gasp, her heels clicked down the tile as fast as she could walk. But Fred wasn’t going to let her get away that easy. In an instant he threw his elongated and toned arm out to grab her waist, pulling her back into the wall, caging her in his hold.

“You’re being an absolute twat, you know that?” She spat. He delicately slapped the side of her face and squeezed her cheeks to form an o.

“And you’re being a prissy little bitch, but I’m still here, aren’t I?” He said harshly, scanning her eyes before yanking her in for a kiss. She immediately released a desperate moan into his mouth and he slid his hand through her hair and all the knots and tangles possible to reach the back of her head. His other hand slid down up her skirt to grope her thigh, hoisting her legs around his waist. 

“You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad, I swear,” she breathed out, before his lips messily met hers. He always kissed with his jaw, she noticed that, when he’d hit his strong jaw out to move with her and nuzzle her face and then she always moaned like she was doing now.

In an instant he was carrying her back towards the shower, the shuffle of so many movements causing the towel around his waist to fall off.

“You ready to take a winner, baby?” 

— 

After a couple of drinks it was safe to say that you and George had gotten a little closer than you usually would have sober. He wasn’t even tipsy, feeling no more than the pride of his win but even with that he wasn’t going to ignore the fact that his girl was practically purring for him while clinging to his arm. You were so desperate to pull him in for a kiss, hell you probably would have let him have you in the hall out of pure lust for your husband-to-be.

It had been so long since you’d seen him smile the way he was now, pride radiating off his skin alongside the heat of his lingering fever, making you remember that not only had he won the hardest race he’d ever driven, but he’d done so while sick. A smirk spread over your lips as you went to push up on your toes, lips pecking a gentle kiss to his jaw.

“What’s that for, angel?” He smiled down at you, his lips now ducking down to press a loving kiss to your forehead. 

“Just a taste of how I’m gonna congratulate my winner later.” You mumbled playfully as his arm snuck around your waist to pull you in tighter, leaning to whisper in your ear as his lips grazed over your earlobe.

“Guess I should think about getting you to bed then, yeah? That what you want bub?” He pulled away from your ear with a grin stretching from ear to ear.

You nodded bashfully, letting him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, the rosy hue on his cheeks apparent just from being close to you, in this moment. George didn’t care about the press or his manager or really even the win anymore, not when he had you right in front of him, begging him short of being on your knees. 

He made an excuse, whatever it had to be to get you alone, to get away from the champagne, cameras and chatting. His jacket was draped over your shoulders as you found your way out of the celebration lounge, giggling like teenagers as you walked hand in hand to his car, the echoes of laughter humming around the underground car park before he had you trapped between his body and the passenger side door.

“I can’t wait to get you back to our room.” He mumbled, lips just hovering inches away from yours. His hand slipped just under the hem of your top, his hot touch sending sparks flying through you.

“The things I want you to do to me, Weasley.” You breathed out, hand reaching behind his head to pull his lips down to yours, letting him leave no gaps between you, him and his car. 

“Oh yeah?,” he murmured breathlessly, nose knocking against yours, “Like what, princess? Don’t be shy, we have a whole journey for you to run that pretty mouth of yours.”

“You’ll ruin me one day if you keep talking like that, George.” 

“I think I’ll ruin you tonight instead, love.” 

—

“Freddie, please-“

“No, I’m not stopping until you cum on me, princess, I deserve that much,” he snarled, his cock rippling through her over and over. He had intended on fucking all his anger out on her ever since he pushed her into the shower, everything only mouths and melded hands. 

“Feels - feels so good, Freddie” she whined, her legs barely able to sustain being wrapped around him. His hips whipcracked into her at an entirely new angle, prompting her to mewl and claw at his back like a cat. 

“Oh my poor baby, can she not take my cock? Would another racer do a better job at - “ he pushed deeper into that new spot, her mewls and whines turning to wanton cries. “ - stretching you out instead of me?”

“No one can do this, Fred, I promise, love,” she murmured, her eyes rolling vacantly to the back of her head. He sensed her climax was arriving soon, she was like butter under his hot embrace.

“Look at me,” he growled, squeezing her face and tilting it upwards. “I want to see my prize when she makes a mess everywhere, you hear me, princess?” Her widened eyes bore into his deep chocolate ones and when she finished, she truly could not look at anything else except him, it was always him and only him that made her feel like this. 

“Thaaaat’s it, baby, look at you, being such a dirty little girl for me. You like making messes for me, princess?” He cooed, his soft and caring tone a total opposite to the way he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream and be flush against him. 

“M-mhm,” she murmured, Fred shaking his head as he chuckled, carrying her dripping out of the shower, still inside her. “Do you want me to take you off?” He whispered, the anger still in his throat, but...she would always be more important. Making her feel safe was always important, even in the worst of his rage. Fortunately, she nodded at him and kissed his jaw, a soothing gesture that always meant she loved him, everything was okay, he didn’t hurt her. He smoothed the top of her wet hair down and gave the top of her head a kiss, his ring finger stroking against the centre of her spine.

But then, a certain thought excited him blackly. 

“Baby…who put that ring on you?” He asked pensively. No, he didn’t win that idiotic fucking race, and no, he didn’t beat his brother in this race but - he still won her. He suddenly felt his dick twitch deep inside her and he groaned, clenching his jaw at the sudden awareness of her engagement ring digging into his shoulder. He fully stopped looking at the ground and the towel on the locker hanger, reaching for it and dropping it flat on the ground.

“F-Freddie?” She asked weakly.

“Mhm?”

“What - what are you doing?” She released a high pitch whine at the feeling of Fred twitching again, and at that he flipped her over on the towel, backside up, his cunt and his ass being fully presented to him like that. And then he moaned, his eyes shutting after and his jaw rolling when he saw her buck her ass up to try and meet him wherever he was behind her. 

“God, you are just a good for nothing little Formula 1 whore aren’t you?” He breathed out, his hands sliding to cup her ass and squeezing, relishing in the scarlet rash of skin that came and went with a blink of an eye. 

“You’d like to think so,” she quietly quipped, his hands suddenly freezing on her ass.

“Oh...is that so? Well, then…” and at that he slowly began to squeeze again until she was squirming, then bringing his hand down to the centre of her ass, a loud smack echoing in the room. She cried into the towel and bucked her ass towards him once again. 

“Yes, yes, I’m a Formula 1 whore,” she wept, Fred chuckling and positioning his cock at her entrance, just barely letting his tip brush her cunt.

“What if I just stayed here, hmm? Didn’t even let you have my cock, just gave you a taste of what it would be like to get fucked by me and go use another checkered flag slut instead, that sound good, baby?” He said crisply, trying not to let the tortured feeling of his cock get to him. 

“Fred, I-“ and with a final growl, Fred pushed himself to the brim inside her once more. She cried out his name into the towel, his free hand not bracing himself from behind pushing her head into the towel. He was devouring every noise that came from her mouth, mostly strained cries and pants that registered with every crack of his hips inside her. He felt her near her release again, his as well, his hips losing tempo.

“Gonna marry you and stuff you with aaaall my babies, isn’t that right princess? Gonna make my trophy wife swell up, you won’t be able to even fathom seeing that pretty pussy of yours in the morning” He panted, groaning at the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing in her - in his - cunt. 

“Please, wanna be so full, of your...of your babies, Fred,” she whimpered, his name falling from her lips like alphabet soup as she, with a final rock of her ass against him, came undone around him. He gripped her hips and with a sharp “I love you, fuck” followed her in the same way, his hips rolling ever so gently back into her to soothe their highs.

After a moment he pulled out of her, dismantling the baby hairs sticking to her forehead out the way, pressing kiss after kiss there. 

“Weasley, you got any car plush toys on you by chance?” She quipped, prompting a grin from Fred and a chaste kiss to her lips and nose.

“No, but the Babies R Us near home might…”

—

The second you were parked up, George had his hand snaked around the back of your neck pulling you in to peck your lips over and over, warm and comforting giggles slipping from your lips between every kiss. The trip up to your room took twice the time it would usually take, stopping frequently to evade the hotel staff, as well as missing your floor entirely in the elevator; too distracted by the taste of his lips and the way his hands gripped desperately at your hips.

Once well inside your hotel room, you found yourself underneath him, hair sprawled out beneath you as he marvelled at your beauty. A toothy grin spread across his lips before his head ducked down to press a kiss just below your ear, sucking a deep purple mark against your warm skin as a giggle erupted through his throat, the vibrations causing you to do the same, hands pressed against his shoulders to push him away. 

“Good lord, woman, I love you.” He breathed out, his lips moving to press a kiss to your forehead. You sighed out a moan as his fingers slipped underneath the hem of your shirt, bunching the fabric up as he pushed it up your torso and over your bra, exposing the plain but gorgeous lace.

His lips soon pressed against your exposed skin, sucking mark after mark down the valley of your breasts, humming in satisfaction at the way you writhed beneath him as your hands wove through his soft, ginger locks, tousling them perfectly as you giggled together.

“You may have won today, Georgie, but I’m winning now.” You whined, keeping him pulled close to you as his free hand snuck just underneath the hem of your skirt, fingers brushing against your sensitive clit as he swallowed each and every moan, taking pleasure in slipping the flimsy lace to the side to sink his fingers into you quickly and with no mercy, letting you chant his name as you begged for more. 

It didn’t take much for him to oblige, hardly pulling away from you to slip his cock free, teasing your entrance for a moment before he was pushing slowly into you, letting you get used to the feeling of the first few inches, only for him to pull back out, chuckling darkly at the way you writhed against the sheets. “Baby please, don’t tease me like that.” 

He pouted mockingly, dipping his head down to press a slow and intimate kiss to your lips, nose nudging against yours before he mumbled into the kiss, letting you lean into it. “As you wish, princess.” 

Almost all at once, you felt him move your hips to the right position, continuing to tease you as he sank slowly into you, not daring to pull away again as he eyed the way your face contorted with pleasure, your hands slipping under the thin t-shirt, he wore, pulling it over his head and tossing it across the room, your nails dragging down the freshly exposed skin, pulling a groan from him.

“I’m gonna fuck you so deep, bub, gonna make you scream and give you a baby.” He groaned, hands pressing your head down to the mattress as he cradled it, hot breath fanning over your face as his slow thrusts pulled moan after moan from you.

His strong arm hooked underneath you, pulling you up and into his chest, as his hips continued in pushing in and out of you at the most antagonising pace. He smirked at the way your head immediately fell to rest on his shoulder, your eyes squeezing shut from the new angle. 

“Bet you’re loving this aren’t you? Not so bold anymore, angel.” His gravelly voice rumbled through your ear, hand gripping that little bit tighter as he felt your small shallow breaths growing deeper at the intensely slow lovemaking you were far from expecting tonight.

“I’m still bold.” You whispered, nudging forward to pull his earlobe between your teeth before peppering sloppy, wet kisses along his neck.

“Funny one, love.” He smirked, beginning to pick the pace up a notch, enough to bring the hanging release down on you, pushing you to be clenching around him as you begged for it. “I knew you’d like that.”

He had a way of completely dumbfounding you, making you lost for words, finding yourself against the sheets fully again, this time he had hooked your legs over his shoulders only to lean down and press his lips to yours, all the time his skilled fingers toyed with your clit. 

You felt as if every sense had been awoken, stimulated by his very touch like a fire had been lit around you, pulling you into the embrace of the flames as you found yourself screaming his name, the inevitable high falling over you.

“That’s it, baby, doing so good for me…” He breathed heavily, his lips pressing to your forehead as he continued to ride out your high, his own release painting your walls as he fucked it into you, pulling true on his promise of filling you up.

You felt so full, his love washing through you from head to toe as he lazily kissed you, slipping your legs off his shoulders to pull you back into his arms, keeping himself bottomed out inside of you. 

“I’m dead serious about giving you a baby, princess.” He chuckled, hand trailing up and down your back as he traced languid shapes into your soft skin.

“Good, I’m dead serious about having your baby.”

—

Fred knocked on the door, his foot tapping on the carpet outside George’s hotel room. He was always a fidgety man, but today would be all too different for the eldest Weasley twin. 

He knocked once more, altogether considering just going home and leaving a lengthy but probably nonsense voicemail, if not entirely fueled by alcohol then by sheer force of nature that was his fiancé alone. 

He had decided on giving up, his legs stretching as he turned around. But then the door opened, the equally messy haired ginger behind it looking so much calmer and more serene than Fred ever could. 

“Heya, Georgie,” Fred breathed out. George would never have said it out loud, but Fred looked like absolute death. He could tell his older brother had gotten little to no sleep, his eyes sunken in. He knew Fred was hurting, and George never was one to rub it in. If anything, George would always be the one who understood him the most, they rarely ever had to apologize to each other for things like this, their souls simply understanding when pain was evident. 

“Morning, Freddie…” George spoke warmly, crossing his arms over his chest for a moment, smiling lazily at his twin as he pondered his next move. “D’you wanna come in?” 

“Yeah...yeah, that’d be nice,” he swallowed, smiling softly at his slightly younger (but in many ways, much older) twin. 

George stepped aside, letting his brother in as he shut the door behind him. He rubbed his hands together, a smile that rounded his cheeks on his face as he sensed the awkwardness in the room. This wasn’t like them at all. “Everyone missed you yesterday, Fred, parties aren’t the same without you.”

“As in, no one drank all the rum and Coke at the party without me is what I’m hearing?” He cracked a small smile, attempting to avoid as much eye contact with Georgie that wasn’t necessary. 

“George, I’m so sorry.” He said softly, his jaw stilling. 

“You don’t have to apologise, Fred.”

“No, but I do. I...I know how special being behind the wheel is to you, and you’re right. I don’t know what it means to win, at least not like you, and...George, you’re my best friend, stupid.” He aggressively wiped under his eyes. “I want to be happy for you and lately I haven’t even been thankful for you and that isn’t fair, mate, I...I love you. So much.”

“I feel like I was losing you there, Freddie, I’ve hardly seen you, we don’t talk unless it’s a press conference and just… Fuck I hate this, I miss being able to call you and talk about all the dumb things we can do together.” George sighed, looking up to the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.

Fred’s, however, were already hitting the ground. “I hate it too, Georgie...I hate it so much. It’s fun, being a racer like you - with you - but I just...I want to fix your tires again, man” he tearfully chuckled, watching George do the same. “I want to say stupid shit like ‘baby brother, your blinker fluid is out’ over the headset and listen to you cuss me out, and I want to be able to know I’m still on your team at the end of the day.” He curled his lip inward. “That’s all I’ve wanted. Is to be on your team.” 

“You have no idea what it’s like to win without you, when you’re out there making sure that everything is okay I just know my big brother is there looking out for me and I miss it, I miss telling everyone that it was you who made it possible, Freddie, you’re my star man.” George smiled, scratching his arm nervously, wanting nothing more than for things to be like old times.

Fred let out a breathy laugh, his eyes still brimming with fresh tears. “I’m the last one to thank, you big wanker, I don’t drive the damn thing constantly, that’s all you and your foolishness.” He swallowed. “I just...if you’ll have me back, I already talked to the Wood Brothers and everything but um...there’s a deal where I would be able to also drive once a month or so, and be your Pit Crew Pit Bull the other races. If that was okay with you - I want to be there with you again.” His knee bounced in the silence, his guilt and fear bouldering in his throat.

“I’d want nothing more than to have you back, I think it’ll be good for you to still stay driving, you have to get that adrenaline fill somewhere… I don’t say it enough, but I’m proud of you, proud of what you’ve achieved.” George smiled, the toothy grin brightening up the room as the awkwardness seemed to fade. “Even though you do become a cocky bastard sometimes.” 

Fred scoffed and rolled his eyes. “One does not become a cocky bastard, Georgie-kins, one is a cocky bastard...also, I have to be,” he said getting up and moving to where George was sitting. “if I’m going up against my snot-nosed little brother who’s getting married and is going to expect me to babysit for a thousand hateful children,” he waggled his eyebrows and threw a pillow at him. “But thank you...I mean that. You know you’re easily the best on that track every time. Every time. I’m...I'm proud to be your twin, Georgie.”

“I don’t know how I survived without your brilliant humour gracing us all, Freddie, I truly missed the inspiring wit,” George chuckled, gently nudging his twin with his fist, “After all, you’re not too bad of a brother to have, not everyone can be me but you’re as close as anyone’s gonna get.” He smirked, eyebrow raised as he looked over to his twin.

“I truly am so distraught I did not destroy you in the womb when I had the shot, but here’s to the wish anyway,” full on slamming George in the face with the pillow and howling at the action. “Top that, bitch,” he barked.

“It’s on now.” George laughed, throwing the pillow back at his brother, sending an eruption of laughter echoing around the hotel room, the two boys flinging cushions around like there was no tomorrow.

But the laughter didn’t end, only continuing as loud roars and giggles as time passed. You found yourself swinging your legs out of bed, trudging towards the source of the noise, only to find feathers everywhere and the twins laughing together in a childlike manner. “Could the two of you be any more loud?” 

“Sorry, baby… didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Yeah, sorry, Y/N.” Fred chimed in.

“You’re damn lucky it isn’t early, Weasley.” You sighed, rolling your eyes as you shuffled off towards the warm embrace of the morning shower, thankful to see the twins as they should be, happy and together once again.

A/N //  so phia and i have pretty much decided that we’re gonna keep this going so... part IV coming sooooon ;))))

taglist // @slytherinsunrise @gcdricreads @theweasleysredhair @vogueweasley @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @loony-loopy-lupinn @rip-us @hopemalfoyweasley @whizboingies @pansydaisy @darthwheezely @lumos-barnes @starlightweasley @valwritesx @weelittleweasley​

[dancingazaleas]

miche zacharias | beauty & the beast

this is for @izukine ‘s ‘fairy tale and mythical creatures’ collab! love you so much liyah <333

tagging: @yeagerslut @xenihime @fiaficsxo @mitsuluv @sukunas-lady @onyxoverride @rintarouss (cus ur a miche fucker. sorry for not warning u abt the tag)

edit: this is unedited, i’m so sorry for any typos.

warnings/tags: cursing, eventual smut, smut, nsfw, romantic sex, size kink(i guess if u squint?), fingering, oral sex/cunnilingus, missionary sex, vanilla

miche was always just a little bigger than anyone around him. he stood like a skyscraper at 6’5, towering over all of his peers. he was more broad one would be at the chest, a tailor once said his bust was around 150 centimeters.

miche was seen as an absolute beast because of this. and it didn’t help that miche’s hair was shaggy, stubble coating his upper lip and jaw, and he had a sniffing problem. he thinks the nose is really what sold everyone.

and in effect, miche was feared. feared by the people in his village, and sometimes even by his own friends. the dark and looming castle he lives in was where he forced to, along with his companions that stood up for the meek man that they called a beast.

the village often sent people who they’ve decided to shun to his estate, expecting for the beast to kill them in cold blood.

in reality, he just sent them to the next village over. he didn’t feel like being disturbed.

it was nothing different when he saw you running to him, tears falling from your pretty eyes while consistently looking over your shoulder. behind you, he noticed a crowd with pitchforks along with torches, screaming for you to get back here to burn you at the stake.

“help!” you cry, “help!”

you stumbled over your own feet, hands clamping down onto his clothed biceps and sobbing while looking at him.

“the next village over is—“

“no! sir, no matter where i go,” you shake your head rapidly, “i will be hunted. hunted for reading the books!”

you looked so desperate clinging onto him, eyes flashing when you cry once more, “you’re the only one who can help me!”

he looks back to the crowd that nears the gates of his home, silently wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you to his chest. the crowd skids to a stop, especially when miche steps forward and manages to yank a pitchfork from their hands.

“this girl is with me,” he announces, jabbing at the air to back them up, “leave now or die.”

the crowd gapes at the sight of you gathered to his chest, but backs off nonetheless. there was nothing they could do against the man that they call a beast.

miche leads you into his home, introducing you to friendly faces that were spread across the house.

“what happened?! did you get rid of the—whoa-ho-ho! who’s this beauty, michey,” someone with messy brown hair exclaims, eyepatch covering their left eye.

“hanji! quit being so disrespectful,” a man follows behind them, tugging them by their shoulders from behind.

“this young maiden was followed by a mob. she read the forbidden books, based off of her words she’s said to me. they planned on hunting her down even if she goes to the next village over,” he leads you past them to a bathroom.

“that’s saddening,” a baritone voice said, the frown evident in his voice, “she's staying with us i’m assuming?”

if his voice wasn’t enough to make you feel small, his looks definitely were. a blond man with bushy eyebrows and a prosthetic arm stood in front of you with something that you can say was a gentle smile. behind him lingered a shorter man, bags hanging from his eyes, one of which had a scar running through it and down to his lip.

“no shit, erwin. miche isn’t heartless,” the crude words make you crack a smile.

miche ignores their comments, “where’s nanaba? she needs a bath and i don’t fully trust her to be alone.”

“what am i needed for,” a feminine person waltzes into the room, a light look on her face.

“this young maiden needs to be bathed with a loose eye on them,” nanaba gently takes your hands into their own.

“what?! why couldn’t i do it?!”

“because you can barely bathe yourself, shitty glasses,” levi grunts and sits on a plush couch in front of the warm fire. you notice he has two prosthetic fingers.

nanaba leads you away before you can hear hanji’s response. you open your mouth to ask a question, but find yourself stuck on what to address nanaba as.

“you can address me as whatever makes you comfortable,” you find that she’s peering at you from over her shoulder.

“oh! i’m so sorry,” you sniffle.

“don’t worry about it, you’re not the first, and you won’t be the last. now, what was on your mind?”

“that man… miche, i think the townspeople called him, he’s really kind. he saved me from being burned,” you murmur loud enough for her to hear, “why?”

nanaba took you into a bathroom room and shut the door behind her, “i can’t say i know. the last person he took in was levi, and it wasn’t exactly his choice, more of erwin’s. i think he smells something in you.”

“that’s right, the townspeople wrote that he had the nose of a dog.”

“he does. he’s usually able to tell if someone is good or not just by their scent,” she turns on the bath, “i think he likes you.”

you deny her statement with a laugh, fanning your hand just before you get undressed. you doubt that a beast such as himself could like someone like you.

————

months passed, and as the days went on you found yourself falling in love with miche. the same man who used ‘beauty’ as a nickname for you would bathe in how you’d give a bashful and swat his arm.

truly, he was more like a bear. big and scary, but also cuddly—as much as a bear could really be—and soft. miche had a heart of gold, that much was obvious when he started to wear it on his sleeve.

he cherished his time with you, even if others were around and he wanted you to himself. he loves the wandering gazes you give when you sit under the wisteria tree in his garden. the look of curiosity that brightens your face, eyes wide and staring at the world he used to think was cruel.

miche tried not to be a sap. he hadn’t ever since he was born, and he didn’t want to start now. but he couldn’t help it.

if the world that shamed him and hurt him was able to create such a kind yet sarcastic beauty, then maybe it wasn’t as bad as he thought.

but he was scared of hurting you. in more ways than one. mentally, miche was a quiet and seemingly unaffectionate person, even with someone he loved. miche also had a tendency to be blunt at times, and it has made you upset on multiple occasions.

physically, however, miche’s terrified of being with you just because of it. as you’ve observed, miche isn’t exactly small..

but you practically make him feel as such.

especially right now as you crack jokes with him and teaching him how to waltz. it doesn’t help that you’re leading the dance and that he was stumbling over your feet.

“miche, step this way with me,” you’re incredibly patient.

“i’m scared i’ll step on your foot,” you give him a stare.

“you already have,” you laugh, “it’s okay if you step on my foot, you’ll get the hang of it.”

eventually, he’s able to synchronize his steps with your’s. you trade off the leadership to him, hands on his shoulders. he fumbles a lot more than before, leading to you fumbling over him as well. your shoe presses into his own, and you wince for him while muttering an apology. he’s about to tell you it’s fine, but before he can, he’s stepped on your dress. you yelp and instinctively cling onto miche as you fall onto miche’s bed, dragging him with you.

his arm is immediately at the small of your back and his other hand manages to hold himself up. you flop back onto the mattress when he takes his arm away, cheeks flushed red as he stared down at you.

you look so pretty under him, hair spread beneath you and hands laying next to your head palms up. your pretty lips are parted and your eyes are wide and fluttering.

when he realizes he’s staring, he starts to get ready to get off of you.

“wait!” you gently hold his biceps, stopping his once abrupt movement.

your arms reluctantly and slowly wrap around his neck, eyes darting continuously to his face and to your arms. miche’s breath gets caught in his chest when you pull his face closer to your’s.

“miche… can i kiss you,” you whisper, breath tickling his skin.

miche’s too afraid to speak, so he nods.

your lips start to tingling whenever they’re connected to miche’s heat embarrassingly shooting through your body and to your tummy.

when he pulls away, you accidentally let out a whimper and rub your thighs together. miche’s face lights up again at how needy you look underneath him.

he kisses you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and leaning his weight onto them. he subtly shimmies your body up the mattress, tongue poking at the inside of your mouth. it elicits a soft moan from you, the noise shooting sparks straight to miche’s cock.

“love you,” he sighs with his lips trailing down your neck, large hands shyly starting to grope at your chest.

“love you too,” you bite your lip, watching him undo the buttons at the front of your shirt.

“is this all okay,” his lips tickle your skin as he drags them across the skin of your collarbones.

“yes… yes,” you mumble, slipping out of the shirt and your bra and throwing it somewhere across miche’s room.

miche nibbles at the skin on your breasts, fingers pinching your nipples. you sigh dreamily, hips wiggling from where they lay on the bed. he kisses down your tummy and slips the skirt you’re wearing off of your body.

you’re wearing plain white panties, embarrassment hitting you like a truck. miche doesn’t seem to care at all though, just slips them down your leg and throws them somewhere in his room.

you put a hand on your chest when he spreads your legs, trying to regulate your almost erratic breathing. you couldn’t believe that this was even happening.

soft pecks tickle your calf, slowly trailing up to your thigh and to the trimmed hair of your labia. breaths grow heavy when his tongue hesitantly prods at clit, fingers digging themselves into the wild sheets of his bed.

after seeing your small flinches, miche closes his lips around the bud. you immediately throw your head back as he starts to suck and lick at it, electricity shooting down to your toes that are curled over his shoulders.

he slips a large finger into you, bending it with caution. you buck your hips with a throaty moan, sealing your eyes closed when miche picked up the velocity of his pace.

unlike with waltzing, miche was getting the hang of it fast. so fast that he’s already slipping a second finger into you, thrusting it at a teasing pace that wouldn’t be able to get you off.

you cry out, the scent of pleasure coating your entire body. it has miche groaning against your clit, a loud and desperate moan being let out in response.

miche’s slipping in a third finger, continuously thrusting in and out whilst curling them.

“miche! miche!” you let a hand get tangled in his hair, gently tugging as if you were trying to rut against his face.

“gonna cum—oh my god! i’m gonna cum,” you whine breathlessly and miche continues at his pace.

you cum seconds later, legs trembling from where they lay over his shoulders. he pulls away and immediately wipes away your juices off of his face with the back of his hand, immediately rewarding you with a sweet and passionate kiss on your lips. you whimper against his rough lips, fingers tugging at the shirt he still had on.

he chuckles when he pulls away, hastily taking off his seemingly elegant clothing and throwing the sheets over your bodies.

miche knew it was going to make you both hot. and miche knew he was paranoid of anyone walking in, even though he knew that everyone wouldn’t bother him. but still, the sheets acted as a shield from the world.

this time was only for the two of you, no one else.

his hand pumps his cock whenever he starts to guide it to your stretched out slit. you don’t exactly realize just how big miche actually is until the head of his cock is pushing into you.

the sting that shoots through your body is immediate, and you immediately cling onto his back. you bite your lip whenever he keeps slipping himself in, pausing when you’ve managed to get a quarter of his cock inside of you.

you pant as tears prick the corner of your eyes, trying to relax your obviously tense body as miche tries to distract you with soft and gentle kisses. he whispers how good you're doing, even rubbing circles into your clit with the pad of his thumb to help loosen the tension.

when you calm down and tell him that you're ready, he continues to slip into you with slowed movements. the stretch is more painful than before and as he slides deeper and deeper into you, you feel like his cock gets bigger with each inch. you stop him again, taking deep breaths and telling yourself that you can do it. you only had a few more inches left, then you would feel good.

when he finally bottoms out, your breath leaves your chest. it feels like he’s in your throat and the intense feeling makes you cry again.

“so full, ‘m so full miche,” you whimper while he wipes away the tears from your face.

“i know, love, it’ll feel good soon,” his voice soothes you.

when you calm down again, the realization at how every part of miche’s cock reaches you comes down upon you.

“m-move, please, move,” carefully wrapping your legs around his waist, you whisper in his ear.

his thrusts start off slowly and deep, moans falling from your lips each time he bottoms out and the tip of his cock hits your cervix. when he realizes that you’re alright, he speeds up his pace.

the way he ruts into you makes you produce a broken scream, scratching at his back and throwing your head back. you’re already starting to feel that certain knot in your tummy again, and you wanted to try to hold it back but the orgasm crashes into you unexpectedly.

you sound so broken underneath him, digging your nails into his skin and squeezing him close to you.

“fuck! thank you, thank you,” you sob, “love you, love your cock.”

he grunts in response, ignoring how your walls suffocate him. he doesn’t help you ride out the orgasm, only speeding up his pace to chase after his own orgasm.

you whine at the sound of his skin slapping against your’s, heat spreading down to your chest. you’re going to come again with the way miche jackhammers into you desperately.

“miche, miche! fuck—please!” your vision whites out as your body thrashes under miche’s hold.

miche can’t ignore how hard your walls grip onto his cock, groans spilling out of his mouth as his orgasm creeps over him.

he orgasms with a breathy grunt, grinding his hips into yours and pumping his cum into you.

when he comes down from the euphoric high, he kisses your lips. your eyelids are heavy after miche pulls his softening cock out of you.

“love you,” he mumbles against your skin after he’s fetched a wet rag and cleaned you up.

you hum in response, too tired and weak to even reciprocate with words. luckily, he knows what you were trying to say. he pulls you into his warm chest, a soft and satisfied hum falling from your lips.

you drift off with his hand rubbing your back. the last thing you remember thinking was that miche was definitely a beast in some aspects.

[levicanpunchme]

Hi i found your profile today and I read all of it I am SO IN LOVE WITH YOUR WRITING!!💕Hope u are doing well and getting enough rest!Can i please request Levixfem!reader where they watch scary movie and reader is scared during and after the horror movie maybe u can do hc with levi or one shot!If u like the idea and u are ok to do it can u put much fluff?💕🥺

Thank you for suggesting! Hope you enjoy ;)

——————————————————————

Levi X Y/N

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Warning: Contains a tiny make-out description

Movie Night Gone Right

The air seemed to be drowning in thick tension, terror bustling in your veins as you held onto the edge of your blanket. You scoffed to yourself: modern technology had really evolved so much: the large television screen amplified every emotion especially whilst watching horror movies. It felt like the heinous predators would jump out of the screen any moment, making you piss yourself.

The darkness in the room and eerie music from the television made it impossible for your mind to gravitate elsewhere. Your body was taut as you held your breath while the stupid main characters died one after another in the haunted villa.

You looked to your far right at your boyfriend, who seemed quite unaffected by the countless jump scares. Even whilst watching a terrifying movie, you didn’t see him bat an eye.

He was either too brave or-borderline sociopathic. You hoped for the former.

“Why’re you always choosing horror movies on our date nights, Levi?” You bitterly muttered, your annoyance visible in your tone. Every weekend, you both watched a new movie and he chose horror every damn time.

Your boyfriend looked away from the screen, his wolf-like eyes reading yours. His dark black hair attractively fell like curtains on his forehead, disheveled and messy.

“Because they’re fun,” he monotonously replied.

His response made you speechless. “Fun? What part of large scale man-slaughter and cannibalism, fun?” You cried, disturbed at his reasoning. Horror movies just gave you vivid nightmares and trauma. You usually spent weekend nights with Levi just because you were too scared to head back to your dorm.

Levi’s lips curled into an unapologetic smirk as he glanced back to the television screen. You glared at him narrowly and then resumed watching the movie. A few minutes in, another terrifying scream erupted from the television and your body grew cold, your blanket now scrunched within your clenched fists.

“You’re shaking,” Levi’s soft voice pulled you out of the gory massacres of the movie. He swiftly scooted closer to you as his arm found its way around the small of your back. He wrapped you close to him, your face resting against his chest.

Your chest ached with joy as you heard his heartbeat, trashing against your frame, sending vibrations through your body. His familiar soapy scent washed over you and ignited a deep fire within the pit of your stomach. Your scent mixing with his made your toes curl in pleasure. You liked stealing some of his sweatshirts to take them back to your dorm just to smell him on you. The warmth of his breath cascading down your forehead sent tingles down your spine, making your heart ache with jitters. It was the feeling of being beside him that gave you pleasure.

The movie watching experience was ten times better with Levi holding your body.

Levi’s arm around your frame never loosened. Your warmth embracing him gave him the unfamiliar feeling of a home. His head was filled with you alone, so much so that he didn’t even know who the hell the main characters were in the movie; a week of pent up frustration from not seeing you starting to quench as your warmth diffused into him, making him feel like he were a part of you.

He started dating you a few months ago and it was crazy how damn clingy he had gotten in just a matter of months. At first, he never intended on letting a woman into his territory but you defeated the strong walls that were guarding his heart. When he tasted the sweetness of your lips, he forgot every promise he had made to himself and felt his walls shatter into nothingness.

Levi wanted to snatch you away from the shackles of your university which constantly demanded your attention, keeping you busy with assignments and exams; he wished to burn the whole building down along with your dorm so you could live with him, giving him the epiphany of waking up beside you. He hated anything which took you away from him. Selfish, yes but he couldn’t help it.

He dug his nose into your silky hair, acting subtle so you wouldn’t catch onto his motives. He wanted to run his fingers down the long strands all day, but he couldn’t. No matter how weak you had him, he didn’t want that side to be seen by you.

If he scared you away with his carelessness, he’d throw himself off a rooftop.

He surveyed you, and rechecked for any signs of awareness but seeing the intense emotions in your eyes, he realised you were sucked up into the haunted world of the movie.

He silently smiled to himself and inhaled your scent. Your fragrance was so therapeutic, a fresh breeze of comfort to his exhausted body. His insides squeezed in joy. You were like a heavenly addiction, fulfilling his needs, comforting his emotions.

“Levi, that woman was the imposter all along!” Automatically, his eyes regained its indifference, the smile of his lips disintegrating as he peeled his eyes away from you to the screen.

You looked up at him while snuggling in his chest. Levi pretended to be immersed within the movie and then looked down at you; he almost stopped breathing seeing your lustrous, wide eyes looking up at him like he were the only one on this planet. His breathing became shallow as he quickly nodded, and looked away from you.

“Levi...” you noticed his heaving chest.

You stared at him doubtfully and then it dawned upon you. His eyes were cold but his body said otherwise. He was so warm and his heart was beating so heavily, your stomach flooded with a mass of butterflies.

“Levi, who’s the imposter?” Your heart was skipping a beat as you tried confirming your doubts.

He visibly froze, your question catching him off guard. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed his nervousness like a deer caught in headlights.

“Why're you asking me that? Aren’t you watching?” He counterattacked, hoping this would divert your attention.

You stared at him for a good minute and then looked at the television screen. “Yeah but I was just wondering if you ever doubted that white haired lady. She looked so innocent, asking for help and stuff.” You watched his reaction, waiting for his response.

“Yeah, didn’t expect that.”

Chills travelled down your spine as you realised what had been happening these past few weeks: why he always suggested on watching horror movies; why he kept on asking you when will your semester end; why he didn’t like going out to the shopping mall for dates. Everything started making sense.

“Levi, there is no white haired lady asking for help in this movie,” your breathy voice made him flinch and tense up. You had never seen Levi outrightly display his emotions but right now, you could see the little rims of his ears going darker red, a pool of redness pumping through his cheeks as his bottom lip trembled.

Processing, you grabbed the remote from his lap and turned the television off. Your heart was thudding against your ribs as you observed Levi’s clenched fist.

“Why’re you making me watch horror movies when you don’t like them yourself?” Your voice was so soft and airy, comforting him.

You were currently having the time of your life, watching your rigid, formal boyfriend emotionally overwhelmed and embarrassed.

“Answer me Levi,” you dared him.

He gripped his nape and sighed, his nose crinkled with reluctance. Very softly, his words held you astounded.

“So you can get scared and hide into my arms.��� —you almost gasped, your body shrivelling as a feeling of mystical happiness engulfed your chest. Your heart palpitated as you stared at the man who owned your heart, feeling the corner of your eyes burn.

“Why didn’t you just—say so?” You whispered.

He looked up at you, his eyes hinting of annoyance. “Because,” he muttered, his words caught in his mouth. You waited patiently. You would wait forever for him, only Levi Ackerman.

“I don’t want to scare you off,” his white skin looked so flushed. Seeing him, your body instantly warmed up too.

“Levi,” his name fell from your mouth like butter. Then earnestly, you climbed on his lap, your leg on either sides of him, facing him. The bold response made you fluster, your cheeks flaring up as you stared into the grey mists of his eyes.

His reaction was instant. His body became taut under your heat as he gazed into your eyes with a suffocating intensity. He instinctively pulled you closer, pulling you into him. Closer, closer until two bodies mushed into one, not an inch of space left in between.

“Levi, I want to dwell you in so much love, so much affection that you might get tired of me and throw me away,” you started with confessing.

Both of you were new to a relationship; both had fears and doubts hurdling your paths. How much volume of love do we express? How much of love do we need to hold back? Is there an exact percentage? Will holding his hand make him uninterested? Will pulling you into his arms seem clingy? The questions were numerous; answers, numerous.

Levi’s chest was heaving in a way you never expected. His eyes were darker than usual, thunderously grey and passionate with a whirlwind of emotions erupting loose; his body was hotter and eyelids heavy as he stared at you with an intensity he never let you see before.

“I get excited when you call me to pick me up from uni-when you text me to remind me of our date nights, and when you let me see through your exterior, when you let me explore every side to you.”

It was taking everything in you to not run away and go into hiding. Your words were exposing the sides you kept to yourself but it was time to let go. It was time to let him know exactly who you belong to.

“Levi Ackerman, if it’s you, I’ll give up everything to be by your side.”

Your words were cut short as his hand held the back of your head and like a desperate wolf, he pulled your lips into his. Every fibre of your being sprung to life. It felt like all the happiness of the world was thrown at you so suddenly, you couldn’t contain your emotions. His moist lips feasted on your mouth and impatiently invaded you with his tongue. Your audible panting was almost embarrassing but you could hear him struggle to breath as well. While he rendered you breathless, his mouth drank from within you like a thirsty stray dog. His arms around you had you locked, unable to escape, nor did you want to.

As you panted to inhale some air, his lips peeled off your mouth, up to your eyelid; he kissed one and then the other. He was breathing so heavily with his nose, your heart faltered at the sounds. He ran his fingers down your silky hair strands and dropped tantalising kisses down your cheek, to your chin and your nose. “I-want-to-steal-you-away-from-the-world,” he confessed, in between mind numbing kisses. He then buried his nose inside the crevice of your neck, inhaling you shamelessly. “If I could, I would-absorb-you-within me,” the hurling emotions he had kept inside were pouring out like unforeseen rain.

He kissed your neckline, tasting and inhaling every inch of you. “I can’t get tired of you, y/n,” his soft words tugged at your heart, making your eyes well up. You were so overwhelmed by his love, and your love for him that your vision was becoming hazy.

“Levi, promise to share your true feelings with me?” You asked, your hand finding its way into his undercut, you pulled at his baby hairs, making his eyes screw shut in pleasure, a comforting sigh left his mouth.

He nodded, spellbound by your touch.

You edged your face closer, kissing the high bridge of his nose and each one of his eyebrows.

“So no more, horror movies?” You muttered resentfully against his lips. His eyes opened again and a soft smile illuminated his mouth as he kissed your plump lips again, not getting enough.

“No more horror movies,” he promised.

You giggled lovingly and kissed the corner of his warm mouth affectionately.

“Move in with me.”

You almost fell back, his words pushing you over the edge. You almost thought you misheard him but the glint of honesty in his eyes proved otherwise. He was dead serious.

“Uh—are you sure? I can be very annoying and lazy...” You didn’t think this was a good idea.

He cut you off, annoyance present in his narrow eyes. “I don’t care,” he rasped.

“I can also be quite messy and you don’t like mess-” You knew this excuse might make him reconsider.

His conviction remained unabated. “I’ll help you clean,” he quickly responded.

You held back your giggle. A day ago, if someone had told you that Levi Ackerman would be begging you with his narrow intimidating eyes to move in with him, you would’ve slapped them in the face for lying.

What changes could a day make...

“What if I don’t want to clean,” you pouted, deciding to tease him.

“Fine, I’ll clean for you,” he responded without hesitation and waited eagerly.

You broke into a melodious giggle which made him roll his eyes at you.

“Okay, Mr. Ackerman. I agree,” you casually responded and kissed his jawline.

Levi exuberantly stood up still carrying you in his arms as a huge grin elevated his facial features. “Let’s get your things.” He put you down on your feet and hurried to the table to grab his keys.

“Wait hold on... right now?” You stared at the clock. It was past midnight and your dormitory was probably closed.

Levi nodded eagerly. “Right now. We’ll request them to let us in.” Before you could object, he was already putting on his shoes and grabbing yours so you could gear up.

You stared at your boyfriend: he looked like an eager kid preparing to go to Disneyland after his parents promised him so. You wondered since how long had Levi put his inner childishness and love away, afraid of the consequences. And then Levi pulled you to the sofa, tying your shoes before you could change your mind and dragged you with him all the way to your dormitory in the later hours of the night. After fighting the guards and begging your dormitory manager, he successively managed to get you to pack up your belongings and come live with him starting that very auspicious movie night.