#one big hand cradling the bowl beneath his chin

[rememberwren]

Ghost who accidentally pulls readers hair back too hard and is worried that he’s fucked up and that they’ll disappear because they’re catching glimpses into him, and reader who enjoyed it far more than they probably should’ve. Reader who casually brings up that they liked him being a bit more rough and ghost does everything but spit out his morning cereal because THEYLIKEIT??

Like not quite Freak4Freak but Freak4holyshitilikedthatiwanthimtodothatagain

Scenarios like this just breeeeed the opportunity for Simon to be an unreliable narrator and I love the idea of it! He’s thinking of how he’s being too rough with you, and you’re thinking of how you’d like him to be rougher. Misunderstandings and lack of communication like that can be my jam sometimes.

I wouldn’t call hair pulling freaky though personally haha. Hair pulling, biting, scratching. Do those qualify as kinks these days or am I spending too much time up to my eyes in the scary-hard sauce? 😅

[m0chisenpai]

strike

˚｡⋆ mike schmidt x black!fem!reader

in which mike finally gets the guts to ask the sweet librarian out. the iconic sunshine x grumpy pairing but its more tooth rotting fluff

Mike finds himself hoping he would see more of Ms.Y/N. He hoped Abby would forget her bag, or book again so he could stumble back into your library and just soak in the warmth of those big brown eyes. And to his luck she forgets a folder, a book, a lunchbox over the span of two weeks.

And each day he comes back into your library he swears he's fallen deeper and deeper.

So here he is, bright and early on a saturday morning, the smell of aftershave fresh in his nose, the curls on top of his head are softer and smell like pine for some odd reason and he's wearing his good pair of blue jeans with a relaxed flannel.

A bundle of flowers sits beside him terribly hidden under his work coat from Abby's prying questions.

"Your gonna ask her out aren't you?" Mike's eyes snap to hers in the mirror.

"And if I was?' Mike grumbles trying to keep his voice nonchalant.

"She said she's never been bowling before" Abby hums looking out the window. And so Mike hums again, when really he hopes and knows that Abby takes that as his thanks.

Abby walks ahead of him as Mike keeps a steady pace behind, wondering if he doesn't look like he's about to vomit or drop. But the sight of you int hat soft worn reading chair calms all his nerves. "Mr.Schmidt! Back again so soon? I think you might get mistaken as staff" you giggle meeting Mike halfway.

"You'd be surprised" Mike huffs watching Abby dive into a bean bag.

"Here" he pulls his arm from behind and feels his pride sweell as you coo and take the bouquet into your arms. "You shouldn't have! Thank you Mike" You reach forward pulling him into a hug and its then he realizes today you smell good. Expensive. Was that a new perfume?

Now that he's looking down at you, he sees that your lips have a little shine, your eyelashes are curlier. You look even more beautiful. And as you walk to your desk with him in tow, you have a gentle, sensual sway to your hips clad in one of those skirts that hug you in just the right areas.

"I was wondering if you had any plans Friday night" Mike finally speaks up rubbing his hands onto his knees to keep them as still as possible.

"Actually I don't! My friends and I were suppose to go out for drinks but mommy duties cut in and they had to cancel."

Luck must be on Mike's side today because your eyes slant and you lean forward to and cup your chin in your hand. "Are you asking me out Mr.Schmidt?"

And Mike leans forward, "I just might be Ms/L/N." And you lay your hand upon his arm.

"Call me Y/N."

Work dragged by for Mike that Friday. But before he knew it he was flying home to shower, shave, fix his hair and pick out an outfit decent enough for a bowling alley. And as soon as Abby's babysitter hit the threshold he booked it to your house.

You lived a few streets over and Mike parked in the drive way of your home jogging to the door. You were beautiful, a black overall dress with a red off the shoulder sweater underneath and matching knee highs to pair. You cradle a small leather bag in the nook of your elbow, covered by the fall chill with a jean jacket that clearly you owned for some years.

"Too much for a bowling date I know" you bashfully giggle.

"No you look beautiful" Mike smiles holding his arm out for you to slip through. He’s a gentlemen opening the door for you to get into the passenger side.

“Now where do you plan on taking me Mr Schmidt?”

“That’s a surprise Ms L/N” he smirks and you let out a silent hum. A silence falls over you and Mike clears his throat.

"Why a librarian?"

"Hm, I was always a book worm but I didn't see myself writing any books of my own. So I though why not work where I find myself most days" you explain now looking to Mike you rest your hand beneath your jaw.

"I know we're away from school, but you truly do n amazing job with Abby."

"I think you're one of the rare few who would think that."

You huff placing a hand on his bicep, "i'm serious. She loves you dearly from the drawings she's always making of the two of you, and she's a kind soul. Clearly she gets that from you."

"Thank you" Mike takes his left hand off the wheel to give your hand a quick squeeze before it returning it to its original spot.

When the neon glow of the alley illuminates, your eyes glow up as well, clutching Mike’s arm. It’s the new place thats opened in town, not just an alley, but an arcade tucked away inside as well. The place is shiny new and you two pay for your shoes and sit down at one of the lanes. Mike quickly ties his shoes, and you struggle slightly, he assumes cause your names must be new and he kneels in front of you.

“Here.” Mike taps his knee and you sigh.

“Mike you don’t have-“

“I insist. I’ve heard breaking one of those hurts bad.” He nods to your short french tips, and you place your foot atop his knee and he quickly laces the left, thenn the right.

“Alright, ready to get demolished?” Mike smirks down at you as you both walk to the lane.

“Don’t get cocky now Mikey, beginners luck might be on my side!” You exclaim picking up the shiny green ball while Mike picks up the darker blue one, he hopes you can’t tell its heavy and he’s struggling to keep hold of it.

“How about a wager then?” You raise a brow, “ winner gets to request anything from the loser?”

You grin rocking side to side. “Anything?” And Mike echoes back the promise. “You got a deal Schmidt!”

The first two rounds you can barely knock down three pins. Mike gets a strike and knocks more than half the pins down. But after he starts letting up. And by some miracle you win by the skin of your teeth.

"HA I told you!" you twirl pointing to the screen displaying you are the winner.

"Yeah, alright. What's your prize?" Mike tilts his head. You hum tapping your pointer finger to your chin as you scan the alley then point.

Its the food station, with fried foods among other sweets displayed on the menu. "I want to share a milkshake with you. With a big cherry on top!"

The night feels magical to Mike, too good to believe as he carries a red tray balancing two cartons of fries and a burger with the comically large milkshake sitting in the middle.

You sit together devouring the alley's greasy treats. With your reward, the shake, sitting between the both of you.

You steal Mike's fries scrunching your nose when he swats your hand playfully, but he lets you eat them. And you lean forward giggling as you two share the shake like some romcom high schoolers. Your hands just barely brushing against one another, your eyes start to glaze and you pull back sharply.

And Mike starts to apologize, thinking he'd misunderstood.

Your hand begin to tremble and its then Mike realizes you aren't even looking at him, its whatever or whoever is behind him that's got you looking like you've seen a ghost.

Mike looks over his shoulder and to his disgust, the arcades got a booth where a bright pink hippo is singing some high pitched song for a kids birthday party. Its jerky movements take him back to the same ones buried in rubble from the previous year.

But Mike can only focus on you now, your having a panic attack. He's seen plenty at his job. So he takes hold of your hands and begins to massage them.

"Hey, you're safe, breath Y/N" he's got sight of your eyes and he holds your gaze as he tries to ground you. "Match my breaths," he breaths in for three, holds then lets go. You do the same.

In and out. In and out.

You do this a few times till your hands relax into Mike's. Embarrassment flashes across your face as you look down to your hands. "I'm so sorry. I just can't stand those...things." you whisper.

"I understand. Mike smiles.

"Really?" You finally look up.

"Yeah, my sister used to be obsessed with them. But it just feels like they're.."

"Watching?" You finish for him and he nods. "Yeah, creepy things." Your nose scrunches again, and Mike can't resist and playfully pokes it making you huff a giggle.

"There you are" he whispers as your smile lights back up. You finish your meal and head back to the car. Some old song plays on the cars radio, your body is turned to Mike. His hand on your knee, your hand atop his.

He drives a bit slower, wanting to enjoy this peace. At one point you lift his hand to your mouth and place a kiss to the back of his hand leaving a glossy red stain and Mikey has to stop the car from swerving.

When he pulls to your home he's reluctant to let go so he can go to your side to open the door and walk you to your front door. The light from your front door illuminates you. The wind tosses your hair a bit. You look too perfect in this moment.

"Thank you for tonight, it was so much fun."

Mike smiles his thumb caressing the back of your hand, "do you think we could do this again? Minus the creepy robots?"

"Of course. Maybe I can beat you at skee ball?" You're leaning closer to Mike and he hums, his eyes closing just when you press your lips to his.

It lasts for a quick moment, a peck that leaves Mike breathless when you pull back.

"Good night Mikey" you whisper opening the door finally letting your hands fall apart. Once your door shuts, the breath Mikey seems to hold releases as does a soft laugh as he walks back to his car.

You truly had him wrapped your little finger.

[husbandohunter]

You know ur small predicament post?? you should make a reverse version where s/o is smaller!

A Smaller Predicament [Genshin Impact x Smol!Reader]

Characters: Scaramouche, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe, Xiao, Zhongli, Albedo

Synopsis: Not only did you shrink, you went pocket sized as well!

(A sequel to "A Small Predicament")

(A/n): Sorry for the long wait anon, and I kind of added a twist to the scenario for more diversity hahaha hope you don't mind >_<. And why is Childe the poster boy for this series lmao.

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

Childe

When Childe walks in, he doesn't see you....until he looked down. He almost crunched you beneath his feet if it weren't for your constant flailing of arms and screeching voice. He blanks out for a hot minute as you clung onto his toes, doesn't dare to move an inch because he's so petrified (even though there's nothing to be afraid of??). But honestly if Childe moved right now, he might accidentally flail you to the side and that's the last thing he wants.

"WHAT HAPPENED TO YOU??" He screamed so loud it nearly blew you out of proportion. Seems like he's going to have alot of adjusting to do. Childe is a tall man (canonically the tallest) and he knows how impulsive he can get which is why he bought a handmade dollhouse from one of the Liyue merchants for you to stay in.

Though there's something about your tiny size that makes his heart flutter. With your face so small with a pair of eyes far too big, *clutches chest* "My oujo-chan is so cute" -Childe probably. He won't stop saying them over again and you were growing tired of his gushing reactions. He can't help it. He wants to spoil you rotten. You fit right onto the flat of his palms, the way you just snuggle up againts his finger and he just- swoons, might tear up (bruh).

Toys may be for kids but for Childe it was now his favourite pass time. While you navigate around the wooden dollhouse, he pitches in by moving around the furniture to make it easier for you. Offers to carry you through the rooms like a personal elevator. And please, please let him tuck you to bed. He has to pinch his fingers to grab the blanket. It's so adorable to him.

Loves it when you snuggle up against his collar. He thinks it would be the best area for you to be nearby him since the risk of you getting hit by anything (or him) by accident is very slim chance. Sometimes he pulls up his collar so that you're more comfortable and cradled within. He would have to avert his eyes down rather than turning his head if he wanted to look at you otherwise you'd be hit by his chin and that would hurt.

The poking sensation with you by his neck can bother him since he's veeeery tickilish there. Plus, Childe can get easily sweaty so have fun with that.

You have a feeling that he wasn't so pleased when you transformed back. You might be right. Actually, you are right. He secretly has an extra potion hidden somewhere...just in case.

Diluc

Mortified, his soul just left his body. To think things couldn't get any worse ever since he turned into a child to the point no one took him seriously, now you're literally the size of an apple. Oh god what if his bird suddenly swoops in and gobbles you right up? Or the wrath of the wind comes by, swirling you away towards a tornado. Needless to say, Diluc grew paranoid over your well-being ever since.

Due to your extremely small size, he will ensure that you are supervised by him (except at night where he has places to go). In otherwords, you're slipped into the inner pocket of his coat. It's super warm, you can fall asleep (and feel his heartbeat awww). Diluc doesn't like keeping you in places where people can see you, it would be too easy for outer things to access your tiny form (or maybe he secretly likes the feeling of you in his pocket.)

And he's such a gentleman about it. You noticed how careful he moves among his footsteps because he's worried that you might get dizzy. Diluc guards the pocket at close parameter, keeping an eye on things so he won't bump into them. As if he was treading on thin ice (you even suggested it was best to leave you home but he's too overprotective for his own good).

You're like his little assistant. Diluc does so much paperwork through out the day and although the act was small, he finds it endearing how you would help bring the papers back to it's rightful pile or pushing the ink bowl towards him. Or during his shifts at Angel's Share, crawling around the glass utensils and trying to find a specific wine beverage on his shelf. Of course that only happens when the shop is closed, how is he going to explain to his patrons that you shrank and now live in his pocket?

He dislikes the thought of you wandering too far. It's so easy for you to get lost especially when the mansion is so large.

At night you now sleep atop the fluff of the pillow. Diluc is a calm sleeper so he won't have to worry about hitting into you. However he radiates warmth so you just subconicously roll towards to his face. He usually wakes up with you sprawled over his nose. He can hardly breath (careful, he might just sneeze too).

This all happened because of the experiements you participated with Albedo. Diluc ensures that doesn't happen again. It will take some tencaious effort to convince him otherwise.

Scaramouche

Fuck this guy. He treats you like his new pet, a new toy (though you technically are one). He has this arrogant, smug and sadistic look as if he was a predator looking at his prey and grabs you by the collar before dangling you up in the air.

"Hmph, looks like the tables have turned," he says while toying with your state. You tell him he's just angry because he's short himself and mad that everyone else in the Fatui organization is taller than him. Scaramouche demon face activated. He's about to devour you. (Maybe you should keep your mouth shut this time. Honestly your relationship with him is pretty weird).

His hat is so fun to play with. You'd swing around like Tarzan using the strings that were hanging from it. His head was your playground now which annoys him to an enourmous extent because it makes him look ridiculous. Scaramouche will have a hard time catching you since you move around so much. Climb around him, especially the back of his neck. He'll start wheezing when you tickle him there.

The type to put you in a box but also the type to keep you on his shoulders. Being relied on makes him feel taller (lmfao). Scaramouche seemse to have developed a habit to poke your cheeks whenever he needed your attention and you bit him back once when he pushed too hard that you nearly fell off. Despite your size, your teeth still hurt. He threatens to put you back into the box if you don't behave and the outcome ends with a full out brawl as he tries to grab you again while you run around, pulling the strands of his hair to climb on top of his hat. (This is literally Tom and Jerry wtf.)

After transforming back, he outwardly admits his disappointmen. Scaramouche says it suits you better (when he actually meant that he highly prefers you small). You marked his words, keeping an extra vial for your own entertainment in the near future.

Xiao

Xiao was face-palming against his forehead real hard about this. For the love of Rex Lapis, what kind of trouble have you gotten yourself into this time? First it was the child incident, now you're the size of his finger? Good grief, looks like he will have to keep an eye on you from now on but at the same time he's scared to get too close, you are nothing but a tiny mortal in which he would have to double his effort to look after.

He lets you sit at the crown of his head rather than anywhere else. You insisted since it was easier to see everything at a nice distance (plus he's short so you won't have to worry about him bumping into door frames). You noticed that Xiao also has a little strand sticking out from the center (ahoge) and you sometimes grab onto it for stability. Turns out he's quite sensitive there and winces when you pull too hard.

For the remaining week as the antedote was being prepared, Xiao became extremely aggressive over your well-being, he looks as if he's ready to massacre everything in his way...which he did. Clears out the monsters off the path before going on daily strolls with you, you wouldn't have to lift a finger from now on. No one except for him is allowed to hold you unless they're a trustworthy person. You could feel his sharp eyes glued on you like a hawk when walking into the grasp of Zhongli's hand.

You once accidentally tripped into his almond tofu when he wasn't looking and he almost ate you. Turns out being small made his job as your gaurdian ten times harder (especially when you're the clumsy type). If you were to fall off the table, he would have to catch you right? Xiao often bumps into furnitures in the process...ouch!

He's very soft. It's all over his forehead, his mouth, his eyes. When he looks at you, his tense eatures melted away and there's an invisible fondness over them as he cradles you in his palm. The way you snuggle in them is lke the most precious thing in the world.

When you turn back, there's a wave of relief. He was really stressed out you know?

Zhongli

His first thought is to get you as far as he can from the Funeral Parlour before Hu Tao finds you. Who knows what that child might have in mind. Zhongli takes one of his empty tea pots and urges you to go inside, or carries a tea cup with you in it, he likes placing you on objects while carrying you around.

Zhongli realizes that you can no longer use the household items like before so he has to remake them to your standards- especially when he realized he doesn't have the mora to buy you a dollhouse. He improvises. Takes a handkerchief to make your blanket, his cups for your bathtub, Zhongli had to cut the foot into byte-sized too. But in terms of clothes, well he had to make them as well. Living thousands of years would mean he would have lot of experience. Sewing was one of them luckily. But that would mean he has to take your measurements as well. In the end, most of the things he made were dresses since they were alot easier.

You like to sneak in between his shirt and his vest tucked behind the coat he wears. Unfortunately Zhongli doesn't seem to have visible pockets (most likely the reason why he doesn't carry mora either), though if you don't hold on tight you might just slip down his vest and right to his stomach. It makes him chuckle when that happens even if the amount of effort to get you out took more than he thought since his attire is quite complicated to put on. If you really want to climb on him, he'll find a seperate pouch (but realizes it won't be a good idea when there's alot of pick-pocketers in Liyue streets).

All of a sudden he reads you bedtime stories. It's some sort of inner instinct that tells him he's taking care of a child now (he's right though). You realized that his voice was equivalent to a thunder's roar due to size difference. He would have to whisper now.

It will always be part of his precious memories when you turned pocket-sized. Zhongli still keeps the clothing he made somewhere in his closets too.

Kaeya

Amused by this eventful situation. Absolutely thrilled! He's not evil like Scaramouche but this new version of his s/o is both adorable and fun at the same time. You're so easy to tickle, just one poke using his finger against your hips makes you yelp. Sometimes he twirls your hair or taps your forehead gently despite your protest, he's so handsy like always in an affectionate yet annoying way.

Kaeya picks you up and places you among the fluffy comfort of his feathery scarf. You sneezed, the last time he cleaned it was before he went on a mission with the knights. Though you have to admit, it's the best feeling in the world. It's so soft you might sink deeper into the fabric. He likes to put you in places where he can talk to you easily, sometimes on the table while he downs on his wine. Normally you have to take the bottle away before it gets too much, now you have to push it away which he finds very entertaining at your futile attempts.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you tell him. Since you turned byte-sized, he can't seem to stop playing around. Takes his two fingers and pretends they're legs walking across the surface. You would turn around and he halts, Kaeya sends you his signature grin. When he promises that he wouldn't do anything funny, you would let him hold you. Since hugs are out of the equation, Kaeya gives you his finger instead to wrap your arms around. He can't get enough seeing you like this, things he couldn't do when you were normal-sized. he enjoys your reactions way too much.

His favourite pass time is helping you brush your hair because the hairbursh is too big for you to handle. Kaeya ensure he's handling things delicately but he would love to help style it for you as well. Pretty please? At this point one request turns to another because he's having way too much fun. But it couldn't be helped since you would need his assistance in almost everything so there's really no escaping.

You were so happy when things were normal again but Kaeya would bring this up again during your conversations (how next time he would like to put you in his drinks while you're wearing a swim suit).

Albedo

Legit blurted out if he could put you on a hamster wheel.

What about trying out the little maze he just made?

Or participating in a race against slimes of different elements?

No? Okay, then he'll just turn you back.

Albedo isn't going deal with this as along as he can help it (especially when he remembers what Klee did to him when he turned small.)

[fruitcoops]

hi eve ! i was wondering if you could write a fic where coops are at home just doing stuff and suddenly the electricity goes out because of a thunderstorm like it did that night at dumo's ? and coops just sit there and reminisce ? (man i hope that is how you spell that word, english isn't my first language hahah) idk i just thought that would be neat

There isn’t a lot of sitting and reminiscing, but this prompt was just too cute to pass up. Coops credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for making out (courtesy of an anon who was enjoying the hot tub fic) and mentioned future spice

Remus’ hand was halfway to the popcorn bowl when the house went dark. The tv shut off, the dishwasher went silent, and the comforting hum of the fridge disappeared. “Uh. Hmm.”

There was a rustle next to him. “Did the power just go out?”

“I think so. Hang on a second.” Remus stood and padded toward the living room window, wrapping his arms around himself to stave off the chill as their heating cut off; the coming winter would be harsh. Outside, he saw nothing but a row of dark houses and car headlights in the distance under the place traffic lights should have been. Frost crept along the corner of the windowsill as his eyes adjusted. “Yeah, our whole block is out. There’s probably nothing we can do except wait for it to come back.”

Sirius hummed from the couch and opened his arms. “Nothing?”

“Not a thing,” Remus sighed, grateful for the darkness hiding his smile as he settled back down.

Sirius laughed and pulled him down by the arm, spreading his thighs so Remus could lay between them on his chest. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Do you?” Remus asked, only inches from his mouth.

“Mhmm. Can’t have you getting bored, can we?”

“Oh, no, definitely n—“ Remus’ words were cut off by warm lips and he smiled as Sirius’ tongue swept forward. A hand snuck up his shirt and he nibbled Sirius’ lower lip, drawing a low laugh from him; Remus set his elbows on either side of his head and wove his fingers into Sirius’ soft hair.

“Off,” Sirius mumbled with a tug to his tshirt.

“Pushy, pushy, pushy,” Remus tsked, though he separated for long enough to reach behind his neck and pull it over his head. The fabric of Sirius’ long-sleeve rubbed against his chest as he laid down and muffled a moan into his mouth, feeling him melt as Remus tugged his hair lightly. “Yours, too.”

Sirius’ pout was almost audible. “I’ll get cold.”

“I can keep you warm,” Remus said with a sly smile, drumming his fingers on Sirius’ ribcage. He skimmed a thumb over his nipple and laughed when Sirius’ breath caught. “Please?”

Sirius huffed and wiggled around until Remus—being the most accommodating boyfriend in history, thank you very much—sat back to straddle his waist and occupied himself by tracing Sirius’ abs until strong hands hauled him back down into a fervent kiss. “I love it when you ask me for things.”

“Hmm, really?”

“Makes me feel useful.” One hand came up to cradle Remus’ cheek, but the other wandered down his spine and only stopped once Sirius had a solid handful of his ass to knead.

Remus let out a harsh exhale into the side of his neck and pulled Sirius’ thigh up, relishing in his soft noise as he began rubbing the outside through his sweatpants. “This feels familiar,” he practically purred.

“Does it?”

“Making out in the middle of a dark and stormy night with no lights on? Now, where have we done that before?”

He felt Sirius’ pulse give a hard thud under his own. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“One year.” Remus felt some of his blinding want smooth out into affection and kissed the corner of Sirius’ mouth. “And a couple weeks, of course.”

“We should celebrate—“ Sirius nipped his lip and pushed down on the small of Remus’ back. “—more often.”

“Monthly anniversaries.”

“Does this mean we get to have sex tomorrow night after I get a hat trick?”

“It’s Kasey’s birthday party tomorrow.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

“Absolutely.”

“Fuck yeah,” Sirius said under his breath, though Remus could feel him smiling. They broke their kiss for a moment to laugh, but quickly returned, much slower than before.

“If we do this right, I get to wake up when you come back to bed and kiss you stupid without any warning.”

“Deal.”

“And you have to cuddle me all night.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

“Just making sure.”

Remus tucked his face beneath the hinge of Sirius’ jaw and breathed deep as he sucked a small hickey into the shallow dip—he smelled like buttery popcorn and laundry detergent and home. His broad hands ghosted across Remus’ back before pulling him away by his hair to press another kiss to his mouth; he gasped as his stomach swooped. “What do you want to do?”

“This,” Remus managed between kisses. There was an urgency, but not for anything he could name. He wanted the closeness and the quiet of the night.

Sirius waited for a moment. “Anything else?”

He was tempted to say yes, but that would involve more fumbling and possibly even—god forbid—leaving the couch. Remus shook his head and tilted Sirius’ chin up with his finger. “Just this.”

“Okay,” Sirius said, sinking back into the cushions. He smiled into Remus’ next kiss and wrapped both arms around his back; he was hard against Remus’ hip, but didn’t grind into his thigh at all.

“I love you,” Remus mumbled.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Are you comfy?”

“Hmm, let me think.” Sirius’ mouth trailed down his cheek and neck before settling near his collarbones. “Laying on my couch, in the dark, with my incredibly sexy boyfriend on top of me just waiting to be kissed after putting up with me for over a year…yeah, I’m pretty comfy.”

“I don’t put up with you,” Remus scoffed, leaning his head to the side so Sirius had more space to work. “I love you. There’s a difference.”

He closed his eyes as tongue and teeth lavished his pulse point, sending a shock all the way to his toes. The winter cold was the last thing on his mind—he was warm everywhere, though the involuntary shiver when Sirius blew gently on the hickey he left was a greatly-appreciated exception.

“You’re sure you’re okay with not doing anything right now?”

“I was promised sexy times tomorrow.” Sirius gave his ass a playful squeeze, accompanied by a nibble to the hollow of his throat. “We have to follow tradition, mon coeur.”

He bent down to Sirius’ ear with a grin. “If the power stays out, we could do it right here. No curtains, no lights on, right in front of that big window.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius said on the tail end of an exhale.

“We could.”

“I know, that’s the problem.”

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Despite his words, Remus felt himself succumbing to the cocoon of shadows around them and slid his hands under Sirius’ wingbones for a cuddle. He had already been drowsy when the lights went out, and being that close to the most comforting person he knew certainly hadn’t helped, no matter how horny they were. “We can pick this up tomorrow night? Gives us plenty of time to brainstorm.”

Sirius’ chest buzzed underneath him before he nosed along Remus’ cheek for a kiss. “Sounds perfect.”

“I can call the electric company and tell them to keep our block’s lights out,” Remus suggested.

“Love it.”

“We should go upstairs, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t care, as long as I get to do this when we get there.” Sirius’ accent had thickened over the past half hour and Remus soaked it in like a sponge.

“Such a stickler about tradition,” he teased, resting his head on Sirius’ shoulder; the couch wasn’t quite wide enough for them to fit side-by-side. Not that he was protesting, of course.

A beat of silence passed between them. “If we go upstairs, we can make out properly without falling off the couch.”

“Oh, thank god,” Remus said immediately, stumbling to his feet and dragging Sirius after him. With any luck, the power would be out long enough that they wouldn’t be able to go anywhere for days.

[rhysismydaddy]

can you write a canon rowaelin oneshot where aelin’s pregnant and it’s nighttime so while she’s sleeping, rowan talks to the baby through her stomach and sings a lullaby? and maybe add a scene where aelin’s water breaks and rowan freaks out or something?

It was about two minutes before Aelin’s favorite part of the day.

She could hardly wait, but she had to remember to stay calm and still and everything else someone who was asleep would be. 

Luckily, she knew she didn’t snore, so all she had to do was stay quiet and keep her eyes shut.

A small task that became so much harder when--two minutes later, at exactly 10:30 like always--she felt her husband slip into bed next to her. 

It’d been getting harder and harder to actually stay awake this late as her pregnancy developed, but she still found herself fighting the fall of her eyelids every night, despite knowing she should sleep.

Cool air kissed her skin briefly as he settled next to her and kissed her cheek. Like she’d done even before getting pregnant, she turned on her side so he could snuggle her from behind and wrap his arms around her.

This was home to her, here in his arms. 

Rowan’s head tucked into her neck, and she sighed sleepily, something she didn’t even have to fake.

After a few moments, her husband’s hands began to rub over her stomach lightly. 

She was wearing one of his t-shirts, one that barely fit over her anymore, and hadn’t bothered to wash her hair that day, but she’d never felt more beautiful than when he smiled against her neck and started to talk to the child they’d created together.

He silently slipped further down the bed, resting his head on the curve of her hip, but kept himself wrapped around her so she could continue stealing his warmth.

Aelin’s ears strained to hear as he started whispering, but she resisted the temptation to move closer, knowing it would give her away.

“Mommy’s sleeping right now, so we have to be quiet,” he murmured, big hands cradling her even bigger belly. “But soon, we’ll be able to do this in person. You’ll be here by the end of the week, from what they tell us.”

Tears burned in her eyes at the excitement in his voice as he said, “I can’t wait to meet you, Firefly.”

They’d found out they were having a girl two weeks ago, and he’d been ridiculous ever since, buying pink onesies, hanging matching twinkly lights in the nursery, reading a how-to book about raising girls.

But the one thing they hadn’t prepared for was what they were going to name her. They’d argued about it, and then one day he just started referring to their unborn child as Firefly. 

It was a nickname that stemmed from him calling her Fireheart, and it made her almost cry every time he said it. 

“Your mother’s the most important woman in my life, but you... you’re my baby girl.” She could hear his smile. “You’re going to be just like her. You’ll be strong, and beautiful, and will drive me absolutely crazy.”

Silent tears escaped, even as she remained perfectly still. 

“But I can’t wait to see what traits of mine you have, too.” He pressed his lips to her stomach in a feather-light kiss, then whispered, “I love you so much, little Firefly. Now go to sleep.”

Rowan resumed his big-spoon position and pulled her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to cradle both her and their child. 

“That goes for you, too, Fireheart.”

Aelin grinned and snuggled further into him, murmuring, “I love you, Ro.”

He kissed her cheek. “I love you, too.”

~

“Are you serious?” 

She nodded. 

“You want lemon gelato for lunch?”

Rowan’s brow furrowed, prompting her to ask, “Why not?”

He looked at her like she had two heads. “You hate lemon, babe.”

Aelin groaned, rubbing a hand over her stomach. She’d forgotten about that. “Take it up with her. She’s the one demanding it. Little brat.”

He scowled. “She isn’t a brat. And she can have as much lemon gelato as she wants just as soon as she’s born.”

Her stomach reminded her once again how empty it was.

“Rowan, I swear I’m going to stab you if you don’t go get me something to eat.”

Her husband just smiled. “It’s moments like these when I’m reminded why I agreed to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“A very short life, if you don’t-”

A container of gelato landed on the counter in front of her, along with a spoon. 

With narrowed eyes, she checked the label, then demanded, “How did you know?”

He laughed. “You talk in your sleep.”

“Eavesdropper,” she mumbled, ripping into the container and taking a huge mouthful. 

See, this is why pregnancy was strange to Aelin. Nine months ago she’d hated lemon, and now this stupid container of gelato was the best thing she’d ever eaten.

“I love you,” she said around a mouthful, grinning when he came to press a kiss to her cheek. 

“And now she’s sweet,” he teased, brushing her hair off her forehead. 

Then he went tense, and every bone in his body seemed to still as he said seriously, “Aelin. Look down.”

“I can’t see past my belly, dummy. Just pick up whatever I dropped.”

His mouth opened and closed for a few seconds before he spit out, “You... your water broke.”

She leaned over slightly to look at the floor, seeing that there was in fact a wet spot beneath her. “Huh.”

She took another bite of gelato.

“Huh?” he asked incredulously, leaving the kitchen and starting to run around the house. He threw things in the bag he’d affectionately deemed The Baby Bag, yelling at her to get ready.

She rolled her eyes and continued eating, only pausing when Rowan burst into the room and demanded breathlessly, “What are you doing?”

“Eating. Can you hand me the pizza from last night?”

Because who was she to question her daughter’s cravings?

“Aelin, we have to go! You’re in labor.”

Reaching the bottom of the container, she sighed. Why did they make pints so small these days? “I’m aware.”

“So then get in the car!”

Her always calm and collected husband looked about ten seconds away from ripping his own hair out, which made her smile. “Labor lasts hours, Rowan. I assure you, I have time to eat a slice of pizza.”

“I’ll order you a whole, brand new, hot pizza at the hospital.”

She considered this, tapping her chin. “Fine.”

Then she turned and waddled down the hallway to their room.

“Wait!” he called out, coming after her. “What are you doing? The door is the other way.”

“I’m not going to the hospital in a wet dress, Rowan. It’s called standards.” Ignoring his angry little growl, she changed into a clean dress. “Zip me up, please.”

He zipped the dress in a flash, almost ripping it, then grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the door. 

“Wait, I need shoes!”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes bright with panic. “Babies don’t care if you wear shoes when you birth them.”

“If you think I’m walking across a hospital floor with no shoes on... grab those, will you?” She pointed to a pair of sandals, not feeling like bending down to get them herself. 

Rowan roughly put her feet in them, making her frown. “I’m not really appreciating this attitude, you know. You don’t need to manhandle me.”

His jaw was tight from where he was grinding it, but he still sounded perfectly civil as he said back, “I just want to get to the hospital.”

Aelin sighed, patting his shoulder. “It’s been five minutes. We have time.”

He looked a little relieved... until she said casually, “Plus, worst comes to worst, you deliver her in the tub. All doctors really do is stand there and catch the kid.”

His mouth fell open, and the attitude came swooping back in. “I am not birthing this child in our bathtub, woman. Now, you can walk to the car yourself, or I will carry you, but either way we are leaving right the fuck now.”

Rolling her eyes, she turned and slowly made her way to the door, pausing when she came back into the kitchen. “You know, cold pizza actually sounds better-”

Rowan swooped her up, the ten pound bowling ball in her stomach seeming to be no issue, and walked toward the front door. 

“Rowan! Put me down, you buzzard!”

He set her in the passenger seat, gripped her chin, and set a serious kiss to her lips. “You’re so sweet.”

Her hands fisted in the hem of her dress. “I don’t want to go yet.”

“You’re going.”

“No!” she exploded, pushing him away and trying to get out of the car. “No, no, no. I can’t go yet, I need more time, I-”

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he slipped a hand over her mouth to shut her up. “You can do this, Fireheart.”

She was crying, although she wasn’t sure when that had even started. 

She shook her head.

“You’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met. You can do this. You’re going to be a great mom. I may be freaking out about actually getting to the hospital, but I’m not scared about what follows.”

Aelin gave him disbelieving eyes.

"If I wasn’t sure, one hundred percent positive, that you could do this, then yeah, I’d be scared. But you’re going to do great. I know that, and so do you.”

He took his hand off her mouth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sweetheart, you’re great at everything. This won’t be any different.”

That made her smile, even as she rolled her eyes. 

“I am pretty amazing,” she agreed softly.

“Yes, you are. But I’d really like to do this in a hospital room instead of our driveway, and you’re probably half-way dilated by now, so-”

It was Aelin’s turn to cover his mouth with her hand. “Let’s go meet Firefly.”

She didn’t even know the name of her child or how the hell they were going to pull this off, but under the steady weight of his gaze, Aelin knew that no matter what, they’d figure it out together.

~

[trashmouthkid]

For a long while after, he spends his nights on the bathroom floor.

Everyone has their ways. Richie’s is to slip out of bed when the sun goes down and press his cheek to the marble floor where cold will seep to his bones like a wet earth beside the imagined corpse of a dead lover.

Everyone has their ways.

And as time goes on, tiles crack along their seams and ivy sprouts from the memory gaps, blooming soft in bruised colors and cradling split ribs as though to try to heal a dead man—the life in him sallow, slowly sunken. Richie thinks they have years together before there is no skin left to touch and he can see bone. He never touches, anyway.

He only watches, carefully, the sluggish undoing of his love. Seeing it to its thin, decayed end. Reality melting to silk beneath his feverish body. Until Eddie finds him like this one night, dazed and groggy with sleep.

The lights come on and Richie turns his head and squints up against the brightness. Eddie stares.

“Richie?” he says, voice a brokenness, and the sound of it rattles around in Richie’s chest.  

Richie twists onto his back, looking at Eddie—looking at the flushed pink and breathing shoulders he left in bed, and the conflicting pictures between the living Eddie frowning in the doorway and the dead one Richie was lying with is so startling, he begins to laugh. Hysterically, and his whole body shakes with it.

“What’s the matter, Eddie?” he wheezes, and tilts his chin up towards the ceiling to catch his breath. “You look like you’ve seen a—You look like you’ve seen—”

But nausea beats him to the punchline, and he surges forward just in time to make it to the toilet. Eddie is behind him in an instant, knees hitting the floor with a hard thud. He slips an arm around his waist and a hand between his shoulder blades as Richie curls himself around the smooth porcelain and heaves into the toilet bowl until the acid burns his throat.

He wouldn’t have gotten the joke anyway.

They sit like that for a moment after, Eddie’s mouth pressed to the sweat-soaked cotton on Richie’s back, Richie gripping the edges of the toilet tight, until he tells him. The tiles are patched up like new beneath their legs, solid against the palm of Richie’s hand when he turns to look at Eddie.

Eddie looks devastated. He looks small and partial, like Richie’s admission has made him feel not all there. Who are you grieving, Richie? His eyes are big and sad. What part of me are you trying to let go of? His fingers are shaking, but gentle. All of me made it out.

But he says none of these things, and instead cleans Richie up with only a small grimace. Kisses him with none, though Richie knows how bad it has to taste. Then he takes Richie’s hand and presses it open against his chest where his heart beats steady, steady, and does not coax him back to bed because he must know that Richie needs to see in the light the four walls and empty floor, and Eddie breathing against him.

[tamagochiie]

i'd love to see me from your point of view ; bokuto kotarou

synposis: loving yourself had always been quite the challenge, but loving yourself with the same vigor as bokuto loves you was twice as hard.

tags: angst, comfort/fluff, established relationship

warnings: mentions of depression, insecure reader, self-loathing.

notes: this is a BIT of a self insert. this week has just been super painful. i’d like a refund please. if i missed any warnings, please tell me! 

Bokuto's hands are just as big as the rest of him, and it always made you wonder just how much he could hold in the palm of his hand. You imagine it could carry lots of things like six medium oranges, maybe a whole volleyball, or maybe even the whole world. But you never bothered to imagine his hands would be able to sustain all the weight your insecurities burden you with.

You had been so careful, walking on egg shells around Bokuto with pandora's box in your hands, not wanting to bother him with something so lame as your problems.

But you had been caught, unable to dissipate the throbbing, constricting feeling in your chest and suppress your urge to cry.

He comes home a earlier than usual, and you don't notice the click of the door shutting or the foot steps treading lightly towards you until you feel the cushion dip beside you.

Your body tenses and you choke back a sob. You keep your eyes strained down to your feet, embarrassment flushing your cheeks a bright strawberry red.

Oh, god, you think, panic quickly rises to your chest like steam. Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Bokuto's hands--calloused with a few scars from training and rough to the touch, yet it gives you all the comfort you need--hold the sides of your face, pulling you towards him until your foreheads meet.

You raise your hands up to chest, acting as a barrier between you and his attempts to break through to you.

"Hey," His voice is soft, barely above a whisper and dripping with honey as he rolls your name off his tongue with ease. "Would'ya look at me, please?"

You shake your head.

You screw your eyes tightly shut when you feel his hand ghost down to your chin, lifting your head up just a little to meet his eyes, but he frowns deeply.

Even beneath the hollow lighting of the apartment, your wet cheeks, puffy eyes, and the way you harshly bite your bottom lip doesn't go unnoticed.

Bokuto's heart cracks bit by bit the longer he studies you, and you begin to grow a little uneasy, uncomfortably shifting beneath his intense gaze and the unsettling silence pervading throughout the living room.

"Talk to me?" He begs, voice still smooth and unwavering.

He wants to help. Seeing you so unusually unravelled into a sobbing mess has him growing desperate. But he doesn't want to push you, worried you'll only close up.

And you can't find the words nor the courage to tell him how ulgy you feel. How can you tell him, the one person who looks at you like your his whole world, that you cried at the sight of your reflection as you walked home today?

How do you tell him you count your calories, pinch the little fat sticking out of your jeans? How do you tell him you hate the way you smile or the way your hair falls no matter how many times you try to fix it?

So he opts to cup your cheeks once again before pressing a kiss to your cheek, lips ghosting over your skin and down to your lips, kissing you feverishly--desperately like he's giving you all the air in his lungs to keep you breathing through your pain.

He smiles against your lips when he feels you slowly melting into his touch. He takes it as an opportunity; his hands fall from your face and move down to your shoulders, gently massaging your trust back.

But you flinch when you feel his hands fall down to your waist, immediately growing conscious of your lack of curves, and you begin to worry if he can feel the weight you've gained.

And it doesn't go unnoticed by him.

Despite common belief, Bokuto has always been attentive, especially when it comes to you. So it clicks like pieces to a puzzle he didn't know he was trying to solve, and he realizes his mistake.

He’d noticed it before, the way you’d count how many bowls of rice you’ve eaten, or the way you’ve become determined to take a certain amount of steps. But he never really knew just how to approach you. Whenever you had fallen in such a state, he saw you as glass and he knew if he tried to help, he’d only shatter you. 

But he always felt guilty leaving you alone. Though he’d never seen you completely break like this, and he feels completely responsible. Maybe if he hadn’t stayed away and come running to your side, would it have gotten this bad?

"Please," You whimper shamefully, eyes still screwed shut as you try to pull away.

"I-I'm so sorry." He whines, his voice cracking as well as the rest of the pieces of his heart.

He throws his arms around you, flushing you against his chest to hold you as tight and as lovingly as possible. But you tense up, panic flooding through your veins like an open water damn. You try to push him away, but he won't budge.

"G-Get off." You huff, but he only shakes his head. "Ko, please.” 

“No.” 

“Please.” 

He presses a kiss in the dip of your neck, trailing all the up to your jaw, brushing over your cheeks and onto your lips. You try to shake him off--even pull away, but he’s adamant. 

He was never one to listen to you anyway. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead agains yours. “You’re enough for me.” He says it with conviction, pressing chest against yours to have you feel every beat of his heart drumming for you and only you. “For all of your pretty, and all of your ugly too--you’re enough for me. More than enough.” 

“I feel disgusting!” You wail, finally breaking. “I hate the way I look, Ko. It doesn’t matter what I wear, how my hair’ll look, or how much weight I lose--I still feel so disgusting.” 

Bokuto shakes his head, bringing his hand up to cradle your head. He feels your body wracking other sob, your voice guttural and laced in pure sorrow. He shuts his eyes, lips quivering as he begins to join you in your cries. 

“I’m so sorry.” He blubbers. 

You flick open, and you try to look at him through glossy eyes and the heaviness of your lashes. You can’t see much, but you can tell just enough that he’s crying. 

And it only makes you cry even harder. 

“I don’t like feeling this way,” You admit. “I can usually bear it--its easier most days, but lately its just been so hard and I can’t--I can’t seem to pull myself together.” 

He gently wipes away your tears, and bit by bit you see him a little clearer. You see the pain seared in his eyes, but it completely melts away and is immediately clouded with determination; his whole disposition shifts. 

He straightens his posture, his hand settles to the back of your head as he keeps his gaze trained on you. 

“I can’t promise that I’ll make you fall in love with yourself, but I promise I’ll fill the gaps, and I’ll make you see just how I see you: absolutely beautiful.” 

He feathers kisses over your face, his touch a lot more gentle than before, each kiss more loving than the last. And you finally relax, letting everything you kept so carefully pushed down spill over like glass at it’s limit. 

“I’ll share a little light with you every time you feel bit blue. I’ll give you the hope you need, I’ll be your anchor, so don’t hide from me anymore? Please?” 

Would be alright to trust him? Would it be okay to lean? Even if deem yourself so underserving would it be okay?

“It’s okay,” He whispers, his breath fanning against your skin. “You can trust me.” 

[idontmeantosoundrudebut]

This is Home (stupid Eretlout oneshot)

Oh hello it is currently 4 am and I've just finished this impulse one-shot about Modern Eretlout haha lol bruh! It's set in Britain by the way, because I'm British and I love my British culture lol! This hasn't been edited by the way so... yeah, it's really bad in my opinion but I need to post some writing because yeah! I'm actually currently working on a long Eretlout fic but I have no idea when/if it'll be finished so haha lol bruh awkward! Oh yeah, warning of abuse and past child abuse and only slightly steamy content, really its just making out and all that!!! haha lol bruh enjoy

=============================================================

Blood fills his mouth. It drips from his chin, pours from his head, spills from his nostrils.

He opens his red-speckled fist and a tooth lies in the scarlet pool gathered in his palm, it almost looks like gold beneath the glow of the streetlamp that slants into his car. His upper jaw throbs from where he'd yanked out the already loose tooth and he can make out the rivulets of gum-flesh still clinging onto the roots. He stares at it with an unbothered and tired expression.

"Couldn't even punch my tooth outright," He mumbles to himself, opening the glove box and chucking the tooth inside, "Had to yank it out myself,"

It makes a high-pitched clanging sound as it bounces off a half-finished bottle of Captain Morgan and then, silently, it disappears behind the several cigarette cartons that lay piled unceremoniously within (Marlboro Reds, Marlboro Golds, Caramel Blues, Regal Kingsizes, even the odd Mayfair for when he gets desperately low). He reaches a hand inside and rummages through the collection, most of them are empty at this point, he needs to restock and clean out his car, it's been a solid few months since he did that. He shakes a Caramel carton, empty. Another Caramel? Empty. Marlboro Red? Empty. Regal? Ah, lucky day, only half-empty.

A great sigh forces its way through his clogged nostrils and, with the abruptness of a cut artery, blood spatters all over his shirt and along his forearms. His hand freezes mid-air, fingers tight around the bending carton as he blinks slowly, anger simmering beneath his skin because really? Really?! He looks down at his shirt, it was ruined anyway. He'll never get the red out that white, looks like someone's just slit his throat from all the blood that's been pouring down his neck. That table-corner got him good in the head and cut a deep gash just above his eyebrow, the entire right side of his face is crimson with blood and it shimmers in the flickering lamplight.

He bites into the end of the cigarette and lights it with a silver zippo, the flame casting writhing shadows across his blood-spattered hand. The first drag is the best, the first hit to the back of his throat, the first exhale of smoke. Each heartbeat hurts a little less with a little more smoke, a little more tar, a little more death in his lungs.

Snotlout starts the car and drives away. He watches his childhood home disappear around the corner and it feels like goodbye. He can't kind it in himself to be sad about it.

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

He parks outside of Eret's house on the edge of the path, walking up to the red door with a tidy black seven nailed on it.

"Oh Snotlout, love, you alright?" Comes a familiar voice and he looks over to see Chantel from next door, wrapped in her dressing gown with a black bin bag clutched in her hands.

Eret's house is tucked in the centre of a row of brick houses, it's the kind of street where everyone knows everyone and everyone knows everything, whether you like it or not. In the last year, Snotlout has gotten to know a lot of people (and a lot of rumours) who live along this here street.

"I'm alright, Chan," He says honestly (because he is alright, it's just a bit of blood and few bruises) and stamps the butt-end of his fifth cigarette in thirty minutes into the cracked path.

"You 'aven't been fighten' again, 'ave you? With those Trapper boys?" Chantel asks severely, a mother of four, she's very intuned to her maternal instincts and even the slightest sign of distress has them flaring up, "It better not be with those Grimborn brothers! I'm telllen' you Snotlout, those two are shady bastards and its best to stay clear of 'em-"

Snotlout lights another smoke, this one from a full carton of Marlboro Red, and spits blood and phlegm onto the grass, tongue prodding the empty socket in his jaw.

"I haven't been fighting, Chan, promise," He reassures her, and that's also true because he didn't fight back at all, it was more of a beat down, "Just a disagreement with my old man, you know how it is,"

Chantel's back straightens like she's been in the army her whole life and she crosses her arms over her chest, red hair wet and shining like blood in the moonlight. Only four of the streetlamps work and they're further down the road, so the road and paths are alight only from the horseshoe moon that hovers amongst the star-filled sky, the black-asphalt gleaming silver. They've been complaints to the council to get them all fixed, but they won't do anything, they never do, they just leave the poor to rot.

She looks like she's about to say something about it, but he shakes his head at her. Instead of telling him to call the police, she says;

"You're bleedin' like a stuck pig all over the place, Lout, people'll gonna be thinkin' that Jack the Ripper is back from the fuckin' dead," He laughs at that and he offers a straight to her, as a thanks for not making a big fuss over finding him bloodied like a murdered boy in the middle of the night, but she shakes her head.

"You're grand, love, I got a pouch this mornin', save 'em for desperate times," Chantel looks him up and down, black eyes near white in the moonlight, "You look like you're in one now,"

Snotlout agrees with her. He waves a hand to bid her goodnight and goes inside. He closes and he turns on the hallway light. The marrow-deep tension in his bones slips away, causing a breath that comes from the very bottom of his tar-clogged lungs to fall from his lips, and his hurting heart finally stops beating against his ribs like a jackhammer as he leans against the front door.

He's safe, he's home. Because this small, shoddy house with its water-stained ceilings and peeling wallpaper and creaking floorboards is home. It's simple and a little broken, but it's home.

"Snotlout?" Eret calls from upstairs, he can see the bedroom light glow up the hallway at the top of the stairs, "That you?"

"Yeah," He takes a generous drag, then exhales slowly, "It's me, sorry I'm late... Went to see my dad, after work,"

Footsteps ring across the house and Eret appears at the top of the stairs, dressed in nothing but a ratty pair of grey jogging bottoms, his terribly handsome torso bare for Snotlout and Snotlout alone to see. He grins proudly around his cigarette at the sight of those hard abbs, those firm pecs, those faint scars, those old gang tattoos. Oh, what a handsome devil he is and Snotlout caught him all on his own.

"Fuckin' Hell, Snotlout!" Eret comes charging down the stairs like a mad horse and Snotlout barely blinks when he comes over to him, large hands gracing over his oozing temple and along his bruising jaw. The touch is very much welcomed.

"What happened? Were you jumped?"

"No, I wasn't fucking jumped-"

"You've lost a tooth!"

"It's in the car, in the glove box, I'll get Gobber to stick it back on,"

"I don't think that's how it works, darlin',"

Eret drags him into the living and posts him on the black vinyl couch. Hookfang, his German Shepherd, immediately bounds over to him and rests his snout on top of Snotlout's knees, wet nose twitching and throat moving with unfurling whines and whimpers. He pets him affectionally between his ears, humming lowly to Hookfang to help ease the old war-vet. Eret goes to snatch the half-smoked cigarette from his fingers, but Snotlout's reflexes are too fast.

"Hey! I'm not done, asshole,"

"Not smokin' in the house is your rule, not mine, I'm just helpin' you out,"

"Fuck that rule, just for tonight, fuck it,"

With a rich laugh, Eret saunters into the kitchen to get the med-kit. But Snotlout saw the concern and anxiety in those dark, earthy eyes and he heard it too in that laugh, it was a little shaky at the end. Hookfang barks at him.

"Easy Hookfang, I'm okay," He barks again, louder, black eyes glistening with fear, "I know pal, there's a lot of blood, but it's okay, I'm okay, soldier," He ruffles the War-dog's neck lovingly, trying to ease Hookfang's unnerved mood and distract him from the blood. It probably brings back bad memories for him.

Eret comes back with the med-kit tucked beneath his armpit and a large bowl of water cradled in his hands. He set it on the coffee table and politely nudges Hookfang out of the way, the Shepherd in turn leaps onto the couch and curls dutifully at Snotlout's side. Such a loyal friend, Snotlout doesn't deserve something as honourable as Hookfang's fidelity.

"Look like a stuck pig," Eret whisper, running a wet dishtowel along the drying river of blood that pours down his face and throat.

"Ha, Chantel said the exact same thing," He chuckles lowly, watching rivulets of watery blood travel down Eret's powerful forearms as he sponges at the blood along his cheek.

"Chantel?" He queries, eyes briefly flickering to meet his.

"Yeah, caught outside just as I was coming in," Snotlout closes his eyes as he lifts his chin so Eret can easily swipe the already stained towel down his throat. It leaves a funny tightness in his gut and a nice shiver ghosts up his spine at the vulnerable display.

"Well, expect the whole street to know by lunchtime tomorrow," Eret replies, then adds, "I mean, I love Chantel to pieces, but by God, she gossips like there is no tomorrow,"

Snotlout nods in agreement, smoking his cigarette and tapping the ash into an ashtray that's always kept on the coffee table, despite his own rule of no smoking in the house. But he's never been good at keeping to the rules, even his own ones. Eret wipes away the twin-tracks of maroon streaking from his nose and begins to wrap the gash above his eyebrow up.

"We'll go to the doctor tomorrow mornin', yeah? Think you might need stitches,"

"Cool," Is his reply, tired and uninterested.

All the blood is finally cleared from his skin. The towel is scarlet. The bowl on the table is no longer a bowl of water, but a bowl of blood. A swathe of bandages is wrapped around his head like a bandana, but there hasn't been any bleed through for a few minutes so Eret looks satisfied (and rather proud) at his nursing work.

After a moment, Snotlout flicks his finished fag into the ashtray and stares into Eret's dark eyes; he's very tired.

"Thanks for patching me up, babe," Snotlout says quietly, not because he doesn't mean it but because he is full of such a sudden exhaustion that it feels well overdue. His head, his brain, needs a good rest or else he's going to start screaming.

"No problem," Eret soothes his large hands up and down Snotlout's thighs, "Now, are you going to tell me what happened?"

Snotlout sighs, big and heavy, hand settling on the nape of Hookfang's neck and running through the dense fur. His heart shudders, his lung quiver, his blood boils, his body doesn't like any of this. Just get it over with, as he did with his dad.

"I told my dad about us. About me... you know, liking guys and all-"

"And he did this to you?" Eret's voice goes low, like a growl of an animal with its teeth bared. Snotlout would be lying if he said it didn't turn him on a bit. Thick fingers curl protectively around his thighs.

"Eret, don't get yourself all riled up about it, okay? It's done. I knew he'd react like this, it's not the first time he's punched me around and called me a faggot, just this time, he actually had a reason to call me one,"

"Yeah, well, it may not have been his first time but it sure as fuck is his last, do you understand?" Eret snarls vehemently, hands moving from his thighs to his hips and sides, Snotlout doesn't even flinch when he accidentally brushes against a forming bruise, "You are never going near him again, Lout, I won't let you be hurt by scum like that,"

Eret's eyes burn. Dark soil and spitting embers in furrowed sockets. The firm frown on his face and the clenching muscles in his jaw, grinding teeth that thirst for a hating man's blood. It's making Snotlout's throat go dry.

"You're hot when you're angry, have I told you that before?" He says lowly and Eret looks at him, vengefulness fading as he takes note of the wanton look in those pale eyes.

"You may have mentioned it once or twice,"

They breathe on each other's lips, tempting, waiting for the first one to move. Hookfang books it upstairs, sensing the heady change in the air.

Eret pushes Snotlout back onto the couch and crawls carefully over him, their lips immediately locking in a wet and obscene kiss that stretches on and on forever. Snotlout moans as Eret forces his tongue down his throat, golden hands skimming beneath his shirt and touching the tender flesh beneath in a skilled and teasing way that drives him mad. They make out for a while, dominating each other's mouths with vigour and gusto till their breathless and sweating.

The bloodied shirt is pulled over his head and Eret stills above him when he sees the black and blue bruises that bloom along his ribs and chest and stomach, even Snotlout gazes at them with morbid curiously. Fuck, his dad got him more than he realised. Not that it matters.

"I'll kill him, Snotlout, I'll kill him," Eret promises in a snarling growl and Snotlout wraps his arms around his shoulders, drawing him down so he can mumble against his lips;

"I know, but fuck me first,"

Of course, Eret complies.

Later, tangled in a mass of sweaty limbs and exhausted desires, Snotlout knows that he'll be okay. With his head on Eret's chest, he closes his eyes and sleeps because he's home, home has always been in those dark eyes, in those large hands, in those warm arms. Home has always been here.

Eret, a wanderer for most of his life, a lost man at sea who was bound for dirty work, has finally found a place to set loose his anchor. Snotlout is home, is the harbour he'll always be homebound to. He'll protect his Snotlout because who is he but a wanderer without his home.

[hardyimagines]

Vodka Veins

Another Drabble 🥺

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Warmth. It burned. It trickled through your insides, flooding each muscle, vein, and sense. The intoxicating scent was like fire in your nostrils. They flared at the sting, a crinkle forming almost instantly between your brows. You should’ve been use to that smell by now.

Sticky fingers traced the rim of the bottle clumsily. The glass exterior was hot like your throat. You left the bottle out overnight. It was typically cold, the liquor thin, smooth as it slid down your throat, coaxing your thirst, quietening it. It was different when it was hot, it wasn’t as refreshing, yet still you tipped the half-empty bottle, watching with heavy-lidded eyes as the clear liquid filled the mug you’d been drinking tea from. The brown grains at the bottom lifted with the liquid, swimming in it uncertainly but with no choice. You closed your eyes.

The heat in your stomach radiated north, tickling your chest all the way up into your throat. It was an addicting feeling, to feel the craved comfort of something’s heat. The lack of your husband’s presence left a void inside you, one that was easy to fill with the beverage. You couldn’t taste it anymore. Your tongue was numb as you gulped from the glass. Your mouth was dry, thirst unquenched despite the amount you drank. It was draining you. Dehydrating you. Yet you continued to sip it.

You focused on the quiet tink that sounded when the rim of the bottle hit the rim of your mug. You’d set the bottle down with an audible thump before giving your sole attention to the vodka. It’s name was sweet on your lips as you pressed them together, your burning gaze unmoving from the waves that formed in your drink. You couldn’t tell if it was moving on it’s own accord, from being freshly poured, or if it was your spinning head that caused the affect. Probably a little bit of both.

The throb in your head was dull, but noticeable. It was faint, but painful, like a nail being hammered inside you. You lifted your palm to your hot skin, pushing firmly to try and cease the discomfort. The hammer hit harder and you winced audibly.

Whoever said to never mix a painkiller with alcohol had clearly never done it. The painkillers quietened the migraine and the vodka relaxed you considerably. It was the fifth night in a row you’d pass out against the table, with your arms folded and your head pressed against them, loose strands of hair draped in every direction on the wooden table.

Tonight you couldn’t find the relaxation you needed to drift into oblivion. You pushed yourself up from the table and crossed the length of the kitchen to the cupboard. Drawing the creaky cabinet open, your hazy eyes drifted along the containers jammed inside. You extended your arm, your hand trembling without you even noticing.

The light switched on suddenly, your eyes instantly narrowing, squinting beneath the bright invasion. Lifting your hand to your eyes, as if it were physically blinding, you turned your head over your shoulder to inspect who’d cruelly sent your head into a frenzy.

Your husband was stood in the doorway. His big, black coat was draped over his forearm, the material barely brushing against the watch he wore. A file of paperwork was clutched in his palm. He shuffled lightly in the doorway before moving further into the room. The man wasn’t exactly a giant, but in your vulnerable state, he seemed like he was Bigfoot. You turned your attention back on the painkillers, though you knew now that it wasn’t wise to try and take one.. some, not in front of Alfie.

Alfie tossed his jacket over the backside of one of the old chairs. His hands lifted to the buttons on the front of his shirt, adjusting them briefly. The heat inside the house was far different than the cold outside. The drastic change left him boiling. He set the papers down on the table and as he’d done for the last few nights, he lifted the bottle of liquor, examining how much you’d consumed.

“Again?” His hoarse voice sounded less threatening when you were shriveled in the corner, looking for something to numb the constant throb in your head. “Pet.” He stared at you, watching intently as your muscles tensed and your head straightened. He could tell you heard him, but you acted as if you didn’t. Your fingertips traced the bottles of medication, most of them for him for when his leg or back started to bother him. “I thought we fucking talked about this.” The swear was one of habit. His tone didn’t change. He set the bottle of vodka down a bit roughly on the table before weaving around it and stepping up behind you. His hand was seemingly cold against your hip, it’s chilly surface seeping through the material of your dress. He pulled you into him, drawing you away from the cabinet of medicine. “Y/n. Your fucking head, right, it hurts ‘cause you won’t stop fucking drinking that,” His finger pointed strictly toward the culprit on the table. “Yeah, you wouldn’t have a fucking migraine, would you, if you’d lay off the liquor.” His eyes were dark, intrusive as he pressed you against the counter. He lifted his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. It scared him. Coming home each night to a wife who could only remember the type and amount of alcohol she drank. You never said anything when you were drunk, he couldn’t ever understand you when you rarely did. His thumb traced your chin. “Big fucking relief it is to come home to a wife who’s just as absent as I am, innit?” His blue eyes danced between yours.

You’d confessed to him that you drank when you felt lonely, so he did all that he could to try and get home as soon as possible. Evidently, it wasn’t soon enough. You were killing yourself. Slowly, but surely. An addiction was the opposite of what you needed. It was eating you alive.

He watched as your dry lips parted, your tongue briefly moving against your teeth, as if you were going to speak. But as he strained his ears, he was given nothing.

“Right, well then.” His hand fell away from your face. What could he do? Make you the usual butter and toast? Fix a cup of tea and coffee in hopes that you could drink it and hold it down. On a few occasions you’d upchucked everything he gave you and he’d been left cradling your shaking body as you hunched over the bowl of the toilet. He hated seeing you like this. But he was too selfish to let you go. Part of him thought it would be healthier, set you free to find someone who could move you from up close everyday. His job didn’t allow it. “Let’s sober you up, yeah, talk about this once again.” His tone was different than usual, less thick, less harsh. He sat you down at the table, his hand curling around the neck of the bottle. He screwed the cap on tightly and watched as you laid your head down. When you were fast asleep, he was going to drain every bottle. The sink would be the liquor’s new home, consumed by the drain and washed down by the water.

Alfie made a hot cup of coffee and a hot cup of tea. He set a hot piece of toasted bread on a plate with some smeared, melted butter before taking a seat beside you. His arm extended, draped across the back of your chair as he waited for the alcohol to absorb in the necessities he’d given you.

It took a while. His eyes were red around the rims, droopy from exhaustion. He’d been on his feet all day. His throat was sore from shouting at the lads. He’d burned his fingers when reaching too soon for a tool. And his back was killing him. He didn’t speak about his problems though, he didn’t express to you that he needed some affection too every once in a while, to be noticed and cared for as he did for you each night. When you could form a coherent sentence and there was no slur in your soft voice, he slid closer, the chair legs groaning out against the floorboards. He didn’t know what to say. The two of you had had a long conversation a few nights ago, you crying as you expressed how empty it was to sit at home alone for days on end. Working a normal job only lasted so long. You were home long before he was, staring at the dinner on the table until it was cold and tasteless.

The silence that hung between the pair of you did most of the talking. Things were uncomfortable, awkward, and if there was no communication to find a solution, this marriage would fall apart. Alfie set his elbow on the table and let his fingertips trace the length of his beard. He watched you as you played with the remnants of your toast, brushing your thumb and pointer finger together to dust off the crumbs that clung to your fingertips.

“I don’t want to talk about this again.” You finally informed him. “It’s embarrassing.” You sighed. Your arms curled around yourself, a shy action instead of one to typically signal you were cold. Alfie watched you closely.

“If it were fucking embarrassing, right, you wouldn’t fucking be trying to kill yourself.” He murmured. His hand dropped from his face, arm flat against the table and fingers dangling off the edge. He watched you as you bit your bottom lip. It quivered. He sighed. You were going to cry. Cry out all that alcohol.

Your watery eyes burned from exhaustion. They burned from weakness and from the sting of the alcohol. Lifting your hand to your throat, you traced it briefly before looking toward Alfie. “I ain’t..” your brows creased. “I’m not trying to kill myself, Alfie. Sometimes i just drink a little quicker than I mean to.”

He pursed his lips before shrugging. “Not drinking at all, pet, right, that would be a good fucking way to avoid that, innit?” He sighed lowly before shuffling his heavy boots against the floorboards. “Fucking nonsense, that’s what it is, yeah, drinking that much alcohol, you’ve got something going on. Spit it out.”

“I’ve told you once, Alfie. I’ll tell you a hundred times. I don’t like the fact that I’m married to your house. I’m married to your dog, your furniture, your clothes, your belongings. But I’m not married to you. When do I ever see you!” You stood. Evidently, too quickly. The room spun and your legs felt like jello. Alfie extended his arm, fingertips wrapping around your own to gently pull you back down.

“Don’t shout.” He growled lowly. It was late. Neighbors were sleeping. And the last thing he wanted to do was fight. “I’m home an hour earlier than I use to be.” He defended.

“Right, and what does that do?” You collapsed back in the chair. “No meals together, no sex, no cuddling by the fireplace or talking until we’re tired. You just sleep, then leave, then sleep, then leave. It’s not a relationship.”

Alfie curled his hand against his thigh before shaking his head. “Least I ain’t drinking a bottle of liquor all hours of the day. I’m doing what I can to get home. I’m trying.”

You felt guilty as you watched the man slump against the creaky chair. He let a heavy huff fall past his lips, a sound that told you he was just as drained as you. Your stomach flooded with guilt, it was clogging. You felt stuffed and suffocated with the feeling as you squirmed at his side. Lifting your hands to your cheeks, you brushed at the salty teardrops that traced the underside of your eyes. “I’m sorry.” You whispered breathily. You knew he was doing what he could to be home with you. You couldn’t imagine him wanting to be filling out paperwork instead of spending time with you. He wouldn’t have married you if that were the case.

Alfie was quiet for a few moments, his ears ringing with your gentle apology. He sensed you wanted him to assure you that things were alright, but he wanted to remain with his thoughts for a few more seconds. The fridge in the corner let out a low hum, the annoying sound penetrating the silence. Alfie watched you from his peripheral, only reaching for you when he caught sight of a lonely tear racing along your cheek. You wiped at the droplet, the liquid smearing against the back of your wrist. His fingertips circled your wrist, delicate as he pulled you up and toward his body.

You dropped down in his lap with no hesitation. He was easy to curl up against. His legs were spread wide, bent at the knee and his arms wrapped around your middle securely, holding you firmly so when your body grew heavy and your limbs fell loosely, he had you. His lips brushed against your temple, one of his hands managing to grasp your own. You peered down at the contact, a faint smile forming on your lips.

“Promise me..” He started to speak. Your head lifted from it’s drooped position. Looking toward the man slowly, you lifted your free hand to his cheek, cradling it. His scruffy hair tickled your palm as your fingertips traced his flesh.

“I know.” You silenced him. Laying your head against his shoulder, your features nestled into the side of his neck, legs swinging in the slightest as you shuffled on his lap.

Tonight was the first night that you hadn’t started drunkenly screaming at him. He did his best to diffuse the situation when things got out of hand, but try as he might, he was hot-headed and your incessant yelling and will to disobey him when he pleaded for you to quit shouting only made it harder for him to prevent losing his cool. Each night he’d ended up yelling back at you, both of you red in the face, expressions tight and furious as you spat venomously, defensively toward one another. Neither of you could take it anymore. You didn’t know what else to scream at him. And without your need to rile him up, Alfie was tender, doing his best to sober you up.

This was the first time he’d been able to get you to promise you wouldn’t drink anymore. You made a change. He would too.

“I’ll talk to the lads.” He promised you. It was hard for him. He’d been working at the distillery for as long as he could remember and when the two of you had begun dating, it had been okay for your time together to be spaced out. You paid him visits at work and he came to see you when he was off. Married life was different. You’d vowed to love each other forever, but how was that possible when you rarely saw one another. He was so use to his routine, so use to doing things the typical, set way. He’d have to fix it. Even if it meant leaving four hours earlier for work just to be home four hours sooner after work.

His head tipped south, turning so that his pink lips brushed the soft spot on your nose. You tilted your head further so his mouth was forced to hover in front of yours. Your eyes were droopy as you gazed up at him, fingertips brushing from his cheek, down to his neck, along the collar of his shirt, to run along his tight chest. You inhaled deeply before lifting your head so you could close the small gap. His mouth was soft against yours, slow as it opened. Your heart fluttered, butterflies forming where the guilt had previously been. They flapped their wings furiously, making you shiver in delight. The tingling feeling he gave you would never fade, you knew that. He managed to draw such a reaction from you from the smallest action. Your lips mirrored his, parting so your tongues could slide out and glide along one another. Your heart thumped wildly, legs extending so the tips of your toes could push into the floor. Standing, only so you could rotate your body, you straddled his hips. Sex probably wasn’t the best way to recover from arguing for almost a week straight. Your body dropped back down on top of his own, straddling him fully now. His hands fell to your hips, gripping them gently as he pulled your body against his own, pinning you between his chest and the table. Alfie grunted. He groaned. And he sighed breathily when your fingers pulled at his thick strands of brown hair. You dipped your hips forward, smiling into the heated kiss when his hips instantly lifted to meet your own.

Everyone had their own way of making up, your way just happened to be efficient. It worked and it worked well. At least for the time being.

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Tagged:

@peakblogbecauseimweak @mollybegger-blog @morphoportis @ghost-of-student-sufferings @drippydownes2002 @ellar21 @sovereigngoth @willowick13 @pansexualginger @heyitscam99 @haroldpain @justrepostandlove @emerald-bijou @multireality @innerpaperexpertcloud @goodiesintheclosetlove @giftofdreams @ihclipse @inkedfandom @thatsamegirl @doct0rstrange @jakechillenhaal @shanty-lol @centerhabit @clevertheoristpainter @favouritereadings @badmaax

@thephuonganh @wewillfindourwaythere @uhhhemilyrose @scarrasco1325 @bignastyfan-nz @hot-and-spiceyyy @azayamari @shane-isa-shame @lonewolf471 @crldrr @keeleyella @overitall2018 @lovebitesimagines @eddieisasnack @axxl-rose @slytherintothedeep @lucreziaborgiatheunholyfamily @demoncrypt1066 @phire23 @orphiceseum @captainbuckyboobear @medievalfangirl @hp-hogwartsexpress

[vannahfanfics]

Could I request hearts for Nalu please? ❤️😊

Here you are, dearest! I hope you enjoy! 

Strawberry-Lemon

Natsu’s nose twitched as a heavenly scent wafted up his nose, and, like a demon preparing to rob a baby from its cradle, he squatted on all fours in the frame of Lucy’s window, salivating shamelessly as she aroma drifted in through the entryway of her kitchen. If he had a tail, it would be wagging non-stop; whatever she was baking in the kitchen smelled absolutely delectable, and it was making him ravenous. The instant he had caught wind of it on the street, he knew he had to have it. Really, Lucy was all but inviting him in; why else would she leave the windows open and allow it to spill out into the cobblestoned streets? She would’ve known that Natsu would come pestering her on a Saturday; it was ritualistic at this point. Well, Natsu wasn’t about to refuse a downright open invitation for food, now was he?

Lithe as a jungle cat, he hopped down from the windowsill to prowl across the laminate floor of her apartment, swiping his tongue across his lower lip and taking a second to suck up some of the drool leaking from his grinning mouth. Lucy wouldn’t like it if he slobbered all over her floor like a hound dog. His stomach was twisting into knots at the anticipation; it was baying like a hound itself, and he put a hand over his belly, drawing his abs tight in a vain effort to silence its greedy howls. He had no idea what exactly she was making; he only had a clear view of the kitchen table from his perch, not the counters or oven, so he was literally vibrating in suspense. Natsu liked meat best, but sweets were a close second. Could she be making a cake? Cookies? Pastries? Ugh, he had to know and then sink his teeth into whatever it was!

His footfalls were silent as he snuck down the hallway. Just as he had arrived in the entryway, nearly panting like a dog with his pupils shrunk down in voracious desire, his belly gave a particularly adamant yowl of demand. He froze as the gurgling sound echoed in the quiet apartment, staring at Lucy as she jumped and whirled around. She was holding a plastic spatula coated with some pink batter, and it splattered across the countertop and floor with her sudden movement. Natsu’s face slowly turned the color of his hair as he gawked owlishly at her, one leg still hiked up in a tip-toe and his arms held out wide on either side to maintain his balance.

“You didn’t have to sneak in here, you know,” she said finally once she realized it was the dragon-slayer who had come calling. She jutted out a hip, resting her prim little hand on it as she puffed out her cheeks indignantly. “I left the window open for a reason! Jeez, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

A stupidly giddy smile split Natsu’s face at the fact that Lucy had indeed left the window open just for him. His foot fell down to the floor in a happy little scamper. He pranced like a baby deer up to her, green eyes alight with glee as he peeked into the bowl of pink batter she had been stirring before he startled her. His nostrils flared as he breathed in deep, his heightened senses allowing him to discern that the delicious scent he had been so enraptured with was strawberry. No wonder he had been gripped with an overwhelming need; strawberries reminded him of Lucy’s smell. Hers had a slight undertone of lemon, though, which made for an interesting combination that made Natsu’s tongue tingle a little bit every time he caught a whiff of her.

“What are you making?”

“Cupcakes!” she answered jovially with another twirl. She jabbed the spatula back into the bowl of batter to resume stirring it with gusto. “Valentine’s Day is coming up, and so I thought that I might make cupcakes for everyone at the guild.”

“That’s gonna be a lot of cupcakes,” he frowned thoughtfully as he tried to do the math in his head. It proved too daunting a task. It seemed he had arrived before any of the cupcakes were finished, so he walked over to her kitchen table to flip a chair around and straddle it, resting his crossed arms on the chair’s curved back and propping his chin down on the meat of his forearm.

“Where’s Happy?”

“He’s with Wendy and Carla. We were walkin’ and happened to run into ‘em, and they said they were going shopping, so he went with ‘em because Wendy promised to take him to the fish market.” Lucy laughed and said something along the lines of “sounds like him.” Natsu had stopped listening because he was enthralled with the way her body moved as she repeatedly swirled the thick batter around, her arms flexing with each turn. One wouldn’t think it when looking at her, but Lucy was toned; his keen green eyes flickered as he watched the tendons subtly stretch beneath the milky skin of her arms. Her hips bounced a little too as she dug into the batter, trying to eliminate any remaining chunks of powdery batter. Sexy… he thought absentmindedly.

Natsu’s face immediately blazed with a fiery blush again, and he hurriedly jerked his gaze away to the much less interesting bag of flour beside her. Natsu really didn’t know what to do when it came to Lucy. He liked Lucy, a lot; he probably even loved her. He just didn’t understand it all that well. He had never been in love before. He knew that platonic love and romantic love were supposed to be different, but he didn’t know how to act differently to express how he felt. He was handsy and made off-handed comments and such, thinking Lucy may get the hint, but so far it seemed to him that she thought they were really, really good friends. That was true, of course, but it was frustrating because Natsu wasn’t sure how to upgrade.

“There. That oughta do,” Lucy said to herself. He looked back to see her grab a nearby baking ban for heart-shaped cupcakes. With a small grunt, she hoisted the heavy bowl of batter up and began spooning it into the holes. She had clearly made double or even triple the recommended amount in order to feed the whole guild, because the bowl was nearly spilling over with the frothy pink stuff. Natsu’s eyebrows quirked as he noticed her arm begin to tremble violently with the strain of hefting it up, and she began to grow red-faced and out of breath. Wordlessly, he slung his leg over the chair to push himself up and tottered over, easily hooking his arm behind hers to push the bottom of the bowl up with the flat of his hand and reduce the strain on her. “Oh, thank you, Natsu!” she cried, throwing him a grateful, beaming smile. Natsu felt his heart constrict in his chest, and the twisting pain almost made him drop the bowl. God, he loved it when she smiled. It was so gorgeous that it was enough to make a man’s heart halt in his chest.

Lucy filled the pan and they eased the bowl back down onto the counter. Natsu had to try real hard not to stare at her behind as she walked over to the oven to slide the pan in. Natsu didn’t want to figure himself a pervert, but it was so hard when she bent over and it was just… right… there. Oh, God, now he wanted to slap it. Biting down on his knuckles hard enough to draw blood, Natsu whipped around so he wasn’t looking at her anymore, eyes shaking as he blushed hard enough to pop a blood vessel and get a nosebleed. God dammit, why did she have to be so stupidly gorgeous? If she ever got an inkling of the kinds of thoughts he had in his head, she would slap him silly.

“Natsu? You okay?” He nearly jumped a foot in the air as her innocent voice rang over his shoulder. He couldn’t look at her until his blush quieted down, so he just laughed nervously, zooming to the fridge to begin rifling through it without thinking of what he was pretending to look for.

“Yeah, um, I’m just, really thirsty!” he lied quickly as he grabbed random things that were definitely not made for drinking, like a bottle of ketchup and a jar of pickles. Lucy watched him with knitted eyebrows until he picked up a bottle of water and his frazzled brain successfully registered the fact that it was a beverage, in fact made for drinking. He slammed the fridge closed and bolted upright, laughing again before guzzling the entire bottle in about three huge gulps. “Ah, that’s better!” His voice was several octaves higher than normal due to his heightened anxiety. He tossed the bottle at the trashcan, thinking maybe he could look cool after a whole minute of looking like a freak, but it bounced off. He watched with big green eyes as it bounded across the floor only to land right back at his feet. “Goddammit,” he sighed and plucked it up to deliver it to the trashcan like a normal human. Lucy giggled, doing that thing where she held her hand up to her mouth, and Natsu thought he might die.

“Heehee, anyway, would you like to help me make the icing, Natsu?” She waited patiently with an expectant look as his fried brain struggled to process the question. “Yes,” “yes,” you want to say “yes,” Natsu, he reprimanded himself after a moment too long of consideration.

“Er, yeah, I’d love to!” he responded jovially. As she turned around, he shrunk back into himself, biting on his nails. Did he look too excited? It was just frosting, for crying out loud. Lucy didn’t say anything, so he sighed in relief, thinking that she must not be thinking anything of his excitable behavior. He walked back over to stand over her shoulder, watching with curious eyes as she piled the frosting ingredients into the bowl.

“Here! Stir this!” Natsu jumped back as she suddenly whirled around to shove the bowl and a whisk into his hands. He had been standing right behind her, close enough that his breath was puffing over her ear, and if it hadn’t been for his reflexes, the bowl would’ve tipped, and the stuff would’ve gone spilling all down his front. He grabbed the bowl in a white-knuckled grip and began whisking it, trying to keep his cheeks from turning pink again. For a second, he thought Lucy’s cheeks might be pink, too, but she spun around to go check on the rising cupcakes for him to be sure. “Mhmm, they smell so good,” she admired breathily.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to sink my teeth into ‘em,” Natsu growling in appreciation as he continued to lackadaisically swirl the frosting mixture. It was thickening rapidly into a white, gluey paste, requiring him to put a little more backbone than he would imagine putting into whisking frosting. Man, and Lucy does this a lot. This is hard work! He thought as she came over to peek into the bowl. He lowered it so she could inspect it properly.

“You’re doing good.” It was a light compliment but Natsu gushed like a teenage girl about it anyway. “By the way, you only get one! I want to make sure there’s enough for everyone,” she warned him firmly, waggling a finger in his face. He scowled slightly; one measly cupcake wasn’t enough to satiate his rapturous hunger, but he didn’t want to see Lucy upset after all the hard work she was putting in for everyone. “Promise me!”

“Yeah, yeah, I promise, sheesh,” he huffed as she took the bowl from him and set it on the counter. He poked out his lips in a childish pout. “But I’m starving, Lucyyyy…”

“I’ll make you dinner after this is done, okay?”

“Woohoo! You’re the best!” he howled in glee and threw up his arms into the air. She looked over her shoulder at him with a smile and an amused huff. By this time, the cupcakes had finished baking. Lucy removed them from the oven and set them on some potholders, allowing them to cool a bit before plucking them from the molds. They filled the pan with another batch and slipped it into the oven before returning to the next task, icing the cupcakes. Natsu kept fluttering around her, asking if they were ready yet, and she kept barking that if they didn’t cool enough the icing would melt all over the place. It was an agonizingly long time until she allowed him to pick up a butter knife and begin smoothing the creamy mixture over the rounded tops of the cupcakes. He found it a task that required more delicacy than he imagined, as he kept doing it sloppily and getting icing all over his fingers. Not that he cared, because that just meant he got to lick it off. Lucy made him wash his hands every time, though, saying that no one wanted to eat his spit.

After that she let him douse the cupcakes in pink sprinkles. Lucy showed him a neat trick where she filled a bowl with the sprinkles and dunked the cupcake into them, coating the icing evenly in sprinkles. Natsu marveled at her ingenuity, and she got all flustered when he called her a genius and lavished awe on her. After about an hour of repeating the process, Natsu was now salivating at a big red serving plate laden with their masterpieces.

“They all look so delicious… I don’t know which one I wanna eat,” he said as he crouched down so he was eye-level with the treats, inspecting each on critically with his eager fingers drumming on the table. Lucy laughed from where she was washing the dishes at the sink.

“Choose wisely, because that’s the only one you’re gonna get until tomorrow.” Natsu whined loudly at the impossible task before him. They all looked so perfect! After a few minutes of deliberation, he plucked one that looked particularly delicious and stood up, turning to her. She was just finishing, wiping her hands off on a dish towel.

“Here, Lucy. You try first!” he grinned and shoved the cupcake against her lips, smearing a little of the frosting on the underside of her nose.

“What? I thought you wanted to eat it!” she cried, voice muffled by the spongey cake smooshed against her lips.

“You worked so hard to make these! You deserve to get the first one!” he insisted. Natsu’s stomach was yowling and scratching at his insides in angry protest, but Natsu knew that was the right thing to do. Shyly, Lucy opened her mouth to take a dainty bite of the cupcake, chewing thoughtfully when she drew away.

“Yummy!” she beamed. “We make a great team!”

“What? We knew that already,” Natsu laughed and proceeded to pop the entire cupcake into his mouth. It made his cheeks bulge out like a chipmunk’s. He instantly melted into the chair he had been sitting in, the mute tang of strawberry mixing with the divine cream frosting making him ascend into blissful nirvana. “Ahhh… That’s so good,” he said as he smacked his lips and continued to work at the thick frosting coating his tongue. “Now I’m sad I only get one,” he moped with a longing look at the cupcakes.

“You should’ve savored it instead of eating it whole!”

“I was so hungry though,” he pouted, but he knew better than to test her ire by attempting to sneak another one. She enclosed the serving tray with the matching lid before picking it up and putting it on the counter to deliver to the guild the following day. He could tell she was beat by the way her shoulders sagged and she sighed every few minutes and her eyes drooped. Nonetheless, she was tying a new apron around herself and pulling out pots and pans.

“What do you want for dinner, Natsu?”

“… You don’t have to,” he refused suddenly. She looked up at him wide-eyed from her spot on the floor, half-way through pulling a skillet from her cabinet.

“What? I thought you were hungry.”

“Well, I am, but,” he scowled as he fought his ravenous belly, “you look so tired after baking all those cupcakes… All this cooking is hard work… It’s not cool of me to impose like that.”

“Oh, now you grow a conscience?” she laughed teasingly before standing up, skillet in hand. She flipped it around before plunking it down on the stove. “I don’t mind,” she told him gently, and the way her expression softened made him bolt upright in his seat. She was looking down at the empty skillet with an almost… loving expression. “Cooking for the people I care about isn’t a chore. I don’t mind at all, Natsu.” She flipped her head around, tossing her lovely blonde hair, and Natsu was hit with a wind of that lovely lemon-strawberry scent that made his nerves go wild. “You don’t have to answer. I’ve got a recipe I’ve been wanting to try out,” she chirped, turning her back to him again as she tried to reach up above the stove where her shelf of recipes sat. She pursed her lips as she accidently shoved it back, out of reach of her wiggling fingers. “Oh, dammit, let me get a chair.”

Natsu was behind her suddenly, with no recollection of even moving, reaching up to easily pluck the book she had been grasping for from the shelf. She tilted her head back to stare up at him as he lowered it into her waiting hands. “Oh… Thanks, Natsu.” She gawked at him as if expecting him to retreat. His body was caging her against the stove, his chest just barely pressing against her back, arms slowly reaching around to grip the stove on either side of her body. His nostrils were flaring as he drank in that scent of her, the tangy zest of lemon-strawberry, his nerves singing with every puff of it that wafted up his keen nose.

Natsu didn’t know what to do about Lucy, but his body did.

He was suddenly aware of how big he was compared to her when his hand slid underneath her chin, fingers stretching all the way to the undersides of her ears as he gently turned her face over her shoulder. Lucy did not resist; like a puppet to his will, her body folded for him, allowing him to maneuver her as he wished. He scanned her wide brown eyes for any sense of fear or discomfort as his face hovered over hers, only a few centimeters away. She didn’t seem scared; her eyes were blown wide, shaking, but Natsu could discern the unmistakable glimmer of excitement and anticipation brimming in the rich brown depths.

Still, he wanted to be sure.

“Can I kiss you, Lucy?” His voice was husky, raw with months of suppressed desire. Her eyelids twitched as if she were a doll suddenly springing to life. She blinked once, twice, before looking at him in mild surprise.

“Of course you can, Natsu.” She phrased it as if he should know, which made him flush lightly in embarrassment. Who knew how long she had been waiting for him to pull a move? He squirmed uncomfortably, all the confidence he had just had in the moment dissipating like it had drained out the soles of his feet. Lucy giggled that little giggle that made his soul light on fire and reached up to thread her fingers into his cotton candy-colored tufts of hair. “Kiss me,” she demanded in a breathy whisper. Natsu felt a pleasurable shiver sing up his spine. Dammit, she was sexy, looking at him through lidded eyes and ordering him around like that. Hot damn.

He didn’t keep her waiting any longer. With a wolfish smirk, he dove down to smooth his lips over her own. He relished the way her nails scratched along his scalp as soon as he made contact, and the contented hum that vibrated against his moving lips. His thick arms encircled her waist to tug her against his body, because it felt like she simply couldn’t be close enough to him. Their noses bumped a little as he passionately kissed her; it felt like his hunger for food had morphed into a hunger for her mouth, because he couldn’t get enough, not nearly enough. His tongue kitten-licked at her lips, begging for entry, and when she parted her lips for him and he got a taste of her he nearly collapsed on the spot. Strawberry cupcakes and icing and lemon-strawberry bliss, that’s what she tasted like. It might as well have been alcohol because he was drunk on it.

They separated but only just. Natsu’s eyes flickered down to watch the string of saliva snap between their moistened mouths. Hot damn. It made him want to kiss her once more so he could see it all over again. Her fingers were lovingly threading through his messy hair, and her head fell back against her shoulder as she opened up her eyes to gaze at him with a feeling so powerful that Natsu wanted to cry. “I love you, Natsu.”

“I love you too, Lucy.” He smiled and hugged her as he nuzzled his cheek against hers. She made a happy purring sound that had his veins humming with unbridled glee. He had never heard the sound before, but dammit if he didn’t want to hear it more, every day for the rest of their lives. She allowed him to hold her for a moment before she straightened up and began grabbing random implements to cook.

“Natsu, do you want dinner or not?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna let go,” he said as he buried her face into the crook of her neck and breathed deep. Lemon-strawberries tickled his nose alongside the fine blonde hairs. He had spent so long wishing to hold her like this; he was gonna get his time’s worth. Lucy exhaled deeply in resignation.

“All right, all right, but I have to go to the fridge,” she said. Natsu shuffled his body along with hers like a male penguin toting about its young. After a second, a thought occurred to him.

“Hey, Lucy.”

“Hmm?”

“Next time you should make lemon frosting.”

“Like strawberry lemonade cupcakes? Now that’s an idea,” she said, pausing from the chicken was slicing against the cutting board. Natsu grinned to himself, burying his face further into the warmth of her being.

No… Like Lucy.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

[decoydeku]

You Did Well

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

requested by: lovely anon ^-^

wc: 1.3k

warnings: TW death, grief, descriptions of heavy injury

synopsis: there you are…the love of shoto’s life, desperately clinging on to the few minutes you have left. If only shoto could preserve this moment forever.

a/n: im going to assume that the reader is a pro hero alongside shoto :) thank you so much for your request anon! You stay safe too <3

i’ve been meaning to publish this for almost a week but i kept forgetting. anyways its 1:39AM and i’m going to pass out.

Shoto Todoroki had seen tens upon hundreds of deaths in his entire 21 years, yet nothing prepared him for the moment his eyes cast would upon you. You, his favourite hero – ranked #17 in the world – doubling as the love of his life, grappling with life itself in a bloody mess on the concrete ground.

At first, he thought it was just another nightmare – oh how we wished it was just nightmare – but the hazy musk of fire and blood suffocated him, and the truth presented itself in a painful thought. He knew running to you would be selfish to other heroes who were battling the villain group at hand, though right now that was the last thing on his mind.

He sprinted toward you, almost slipping on rubble beneath his feet from buildings halved as if it they were iced cakes. You were coughing up blood as he approached you, eyes drained from their natural sparkle and smile so muted he wasn’t even sure if it was still you.

He fell in a heap beside you, cradling your head in his arms. “Y/N…” Finally, his gaze slid down your fragile frame, locking on the two crimson-soaked blades that had struck your right through your chest. For a mere second, he held onto the ray of hope that maybe it hadn’t gone right through. But the second he shifted his knee under you, his costume ripped, and the hope burnt out. “Oh Y/N…”

The black spots that danced along your vision where heavying by the second, the bland coppery taste of your own blood making you feel so nauseous you could vomit your insides over your boyfriend. Still, you persisted, a shaky hand reaching to cup his face. “Shoto…S-Shoto…I…”

Shoto felt his lip quiver, the reality feeling like a continuous slap to the face. You were impaled – through the chest. There simply wasn’t enough time. He grabbed onto your hand, his own hand trembling against yours, trying to preserve the dying warmth of you one last time. “Shh…You did well,” He manages out, his voice thinning with the tears pricking his eyes. He drew a rigged stripe along your palm with his thumb, staring into your almost lifeless eyes. “You can go to sleep now.”

And as if your body understood Shoto’s soft command, you felt your eyelids fluttering, reality slowly slipping away with each breath. You held the faintest of smiles, even as blood pooled around the corners of your mouth and dripped messily down your chin. “Sh…oto…” Was your dying breath, your body finally going limp.

It was a moment Shoto would never ever forget.

A month later

“Are you sure you don’t want to come, Todoroki?” Izuku Midoriya asked him that Friday night, where there was a mini reunion for the former students of Class 3-A planned at his place. He tried to make it sound as light-hearted as possible, but Shoto saw right through the question.

Shoto clutched at nothing, knowing that since the horrific day, he’d further distanced himself from any outing he didn’t need. His friends were worried, of course they were. But right about now, he wanted nothing more than to curl into his sheets and lay his head on his pillow. “Yeah,” He breathed, averting his gaze from Izuku’s. “I’m going to visit my mother in the morning before patrol.”

His friend offered him a weak, unintentionally pitiful smile. “Oh okay,” Masking his disappointment was an additional challenge. “I’ll see you around then, Todoroki.”

Shoto gave him a slight nod as they parted ways, and he walked toward his car that was parked outside the police station. Normally it would be at the agency but today was an exception for the villain they’d been chasing up.

Sliding into the front seat, he slammed the door – his own repressed anger seeping out. It had been a whole month but he still wouldn’t stop blaming himself.

‘It’s not your fault Todoroki.’

‘There’s nothing you could’ve done.’

Maybe that was true, but maybe just maybe if he’d kept a closer eye on you, this whole thing could’ve been prevented. Or instead of standing still like an idiot, he’d run to you just that little bit faster.

There was nothing more he wanted than to turn to his right to see you in the passenger seat, arguing with him about his ‘boring song choices’ on the classical radio station.

Ever since your death he’d started listening to POP FM.

And that proved somewhat of a mistake when your favourite song came on the radio that night and he drowned in his own flood of tears.

. . . .

By the time he unlocked his apartment door it was near 9 o’clock – and he’d left the police station at 7. He didn’t know why, but he ended up driving around the city aimlessly, searching for some sort of closure in the neon-coloured signs. Needless to say, it didn’t do much good.

His apartment was nothing special – though everyone knew he had more than enough money to buy something far more glamorous – he was content with the homeliness it held. All it held was a couch, a small TV – which he barely used – a mediocre kitchen and a double bed.

He made his way to the couch.

He’d tried sleeping in his bed, but after the number of times he’d instinctively reached for you and inhaled your fading scent, he knew he just couldn’t do it.

Stripping himself of his hero costume, he climbed onto the couch and tugged the sheet up to his neck. He remembered he hadn’t had dinner, but he wasn’t hungry anyway. Laying his head on the plush of the pillow, and finally coaxed his eyes to sleep.

He was watching TV on the couch – which was rather unusual – silently slurping on his favourite kind of Soba. He hadn’t a clue what he was watching, but thought it was captivating. Looking out the window, he noted that the sky was inked black with a scatter of stars.

A knock at the door startled him.

“Come in,” He’d said – another thing that was out of the ordinary. His gaze resumed to the television.

The door opened and shut with a slight jingle of keys, yet for some strange reason he still wouldn’t check who it was. Maybe he subconsciously already knew.

A thump on the couch startled him, and his gaze finally slid to meet the stranger’s.

Oh.

It was you.

You.

Y/N L/N.

Here?

“Shoto!” Your voice was oozing with exuberance, happiness that could barely be contained. You cupped his face and met your lips with his own. “Sorry I’m late, I got held up by this hideous toad villain.” Snuggling into him, you laid your head on his shoulder. “What’ve you been up to?”

“Y/N,” He’d replied, almost dropping his soba in his lap. It was unravelling now, but he refused to let reality sink in. He placed his bowl on the table, reaching to run his hand through your hair. “Sweetheart,” He felt his voice go hoarse. “It was fine, nothing unusual.” The urge he felt so deeply in his chest, egged him to speak the words he wished he’d said that fateful day. “I love you.”

You gazed up at him with your big e/c eyes, sparkling with your usual warmth. “I know.” You chuckled softly, leaning into his chest. “I love you too.”

And even though he knew it was a dream, he still basked in your presence, hoping you would grace him with more than this singular appearance tonight.

[dragon-fics]

HA: Ch. 7 Reunions

Chapter summary: Heather brings Ethari to join Zubeia’s forces. As they near the border tow events occur; a joyous one and a not-so-great one.

Prologue, Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3 , Pt. 4, Pt. 5, Pt. 6 , Pt. 7, Pt. 8, Pt. 9, Pt. 10, Pt. 11, Pt. 12, Pt. 13, Pt. 14, Pt. 15

  The trio rode towards Zubeia’s army, keeping to the main road from the Silvergrove for the time being.

“So, what’s it like being a Dragonguard? I hear you’re one of the best, according to Tiadrin and Lain,” Ethari said, stroking his shadowpaw’s mane. Their walk had been quiet since they had left the Silvergrove.

Heather hated this question.

“Careful, don’t say too much. You don’t need to insult them,” Aaravos warned.

She shrugged. “It’s fine, we make a good team most of the time and we’re all pretty close. Plus, I get to live near Dad.”

Ethari inclined his head. “You must have missed him when you lived here.”

“Yeah,” Heather breathed. She tapped her sash again, feeling for the egg. It had been almost a week since they had left the Storm Spire and Lux Aurea, and she couldn’t wait to see her beloved phoenix again.

“So, Ethari,” Khonsu started, “have you ever made a mage’s staff? Maybe one for a battlemage?”

He shook his head. “No, sorry, lad. I’ve only ever made weapons for warriors.”

Khonsu nodded his head with a sigh. “It’s fine.”

“But he has one?” Aaravos noted.

Heather reached out to the caterpillar with her mind. While they had waited for Ethari to get a new mount, Aaravos had mentioned her leaked thoughts. “Strong minds leak alike,” was her witty response, though it was obvious it troubled her.

He’s needed a new one for a while, if he wants to continue his education, she informed him.

“Hmm, I suppose.”

There is one in Spireville that he’s had his eye on for months, but it’s expensive. I’m hoping to buy it for his birthday.

“I knew you liked Moonshadow elves,” Aaravos teased.

Heather separated her mind from his and looked at where their path joined another broader road. “Not far now,” she said to them, nudging Réalta into a trot.

She stopped him in the middle of the road and looked around. No one was around. She listened carefully, straining her ears to hear anything that sounded like an army and an Archdragon. She looked off into the distance, toward thumping wingbeats. Smiling to herself, she thought of being close to Queen Zubeia again and not in the dark Moonshadow forest.

“Can you hear them?” Khonsu asked, pulling up beside her.

“Yeah. We’re not far behind.” She grinned at Khonsu and raised her brow twice. She wanted to make this exciting.

“Ugh! Fine!” he sighed dramatically and Elara galloped off.

*-*-*-*

It was midday, the day after Ethari had joined Queen Zubeia’s forces. They had stopped a few hours away from the border and every elf, dragon-shifter and human sat around a large clearing.

But in their own little corner was Heather and Khonsu, huddling over Phil’s egg. Réalta watched over Heather’s shoulder; they may have been loosely bound for years, but they had only been together for a year. So, this was his first time seeing a phoenix hatch, Elara wasn’t all that interested, focusing on cleaning her talons.

“Are sure it’s now?” Khonsu asked.

“Yes, of course I’m sure!” Heather hissed. “I’m a Sunfire elf, I know when the sun is at its highest.”

Khonsu held up his hands in defence. “Alright, sorry.”

The caterpillar leaned closer to Heather’s ear. Over the past week it had gotten smaller again, now it could comfortably sit on her ear. “Any moment now,” Aaravos assured.

“You had to spoil it, didn’t you?” Heather said.

Then the egg shook in Heather’s palm. She looked down at it; it trembled again.

“Come on, Phil,” she encouraged, cradling the egg in her hands.

The egg bulged at the sides, and an almost perfectly horizontal crack appeared across the egg. Heather gasped with excitement as the crack got bigger, revealing a golden shimmer beneath. The egg bulged once more before both halves separated completely. Heather could see Phil taking his first breaths in months. She smiled as he took a breather.

He pushed the rest of the shell off him, revealing his shimmering, burnt orange and cream hatchling feathers. Heather gently removed the shell away from him, feeling his warmth against her hand.

“Hey, buddy,” she smiled. Phil opened his big orange eyes and chirped at her, stretching himself out. He looked up at her, cooing.

“He’s so cute!” Khonsu exclaimed. He stroked Phil’s orange forehead.

Phil closed his eyes and cooed. He flexed his tiny talons and rolled himself over, pushing himself up with his wings standing on his feet.

Heather lowered head and rubbed her nose against Phil’s golden beak. “It’s good to see you, Phil,” she whispered.

He chirped. His gaze drifted from Heather to Réalta. He nickered at the phoenix hatchling. Phil jumped in Heather’s hand, flapping his little wings, flustered.

Heather giggled and scratched Phil under the chin. “Are you hungry? I have fire flakes and frankincense for you?”

Phil chirped again, as if to say, “FOOD!”.

“Frankincense?” Aaravos questioned. “Expensive. You feed him well.”

She hummed and looked to Khonsu. “Hold out your hand,” she instructed.

Khonsu did as he was told, and in return he placed Phil in his palm. He smiled from ear to ear, pushing down Phil’s head feather and watching it rise again.

Heather rummaged around in Réalta’s saddlebag before pulling out a small wooden box. She placed it on the ground and opened it. Inside the box was a small bound bag of fire flake, a bag of frankincense, two small wooden bowls and a small gold ring with a ruby embedded in the gold.

Heather took out the bag of frankincense, it was bulkier than the bag of fire flakes and weighed more. She opened the bag and took a long draught of the resin; it reminded her of the few dragon funerals she’d been to. She took out one bowl and placed a handful of frankincense resin in it. She put the bag back in the box and pulled out the other bowl. Reaching for Réalta’s saddle, she pulled out her canteen and poured some water into the second bowl.

Phil eyed the food and hopped from Khonsu’s hand, to his knee, to the ground and waddled over to the bowls. He tilted his head at the food and pecked at the clumps of frankincense. He swallowed a piece of resin, stood up and froze for a second before digging into his food. Heather watched around them so Phil wouldn’t constantly be checking for danger.

As he ate, his head feather glowed and flickered, like a burning flame.

“Impressive,” Aaravos mused. “Frankincense gives him power.”

“Frankincense is the best provider of energy for phoenixes,” Heather informed him, adding a bit of context for Khonsu. She took the ring from the box and slid it onto Phil’s leg. It shrunk to fit onto his ankle as he ate.

“And that’s for?”

“It tells others that he’s domesticated and the ruby holds an enchantment for a set of armour, like Réalta’s earring does.”

“Did you enchant them?” Aaravos asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“Impressive, for one who isn’t a mage.”

Heather frowned, and the caterpillar crawled off Heather’s ear and down her arm, landing by Phil’s bowls.

“Aaravos,” Heather warned, “what are you doing?”

Phil cocked his head at the caterpillar and cawed, spreading his wings. He lunged for the caterpillar, but Heather swiftly picked him up. He squawked at her.

“No. the caterpillar is not for eating. Aaravos is a friend, not a snack,” she scowled.

Phil looked at her, open-beaked, as if to say, “But mother, he looks SO tasty!”.

Heather shook her head and picked up Aaravos and placed him on her ear. She sat Phil beside his bowls. “Eat quickly, we’ll be leaving soon.”

*-*-*-*

Within a few hours that stood by the border, the warm glow and fiery heat reaching the soldiers even when they were hundreds of feet away.

But Queen Zubeia was hesitant about crossing it.

Two tall walls of igneous rock divided the river, formed from the lava and Dark Magic. The scent irritated the Archdargon and her dragon-shifters.

Queen Zubeia snorted. “Cross as quickly as you can,” she ordered, spreading her wings and taking to the sky, Prince Azymondias in her talon. SkyWing elves and dragon-shifters took off after her, while the rest marched through the gap in the lava.

Réalta snorted uneasily. I think he is near.

Heather looked down at him. “What?” she hissed.

“He is right,” Aaravos interrupted, “Viren is close, I can see it.”

Heather slid off of Réalta and gave the Dragonguards the hand gesture for ‘Dark Mage’. They quietly got off their mounts, retrieved their weapons, and ordered their mounts to go. Heather swung her sword-whip and glanced back at Phil on Réalta’s saddle.

“Follow the others. I’ll make this quick,” she ordered Réalta. “And stay together.”

Réalta cantered off, following the other mounts across the border.

The Dragonguards eyed the rocky terrain, waiting to the Dark Mage to make his presence known. They edged their way forward, their eyes never leaving the rocks.

Heather glanced aside. How close are they? she broadcasted to Aaravos.

“Not far. Any minute now,” he predicted.

She clenched her jaw, ready for him to strike.

But a corrupted fireball hit the ground in front of the guards, sending dust, smoke and ash up into their faces.

The guards became a spluttering mess as the cloud hung around them.

Heather got low, her eyes and lungs stung.

“Use the aspiro spell, they’re going to sneak passed,” Aaravos informed her.

Heather fought her coughing and drew the rune from memory and drew in a deep breath as she could. She blew out, a whirlwind dispersed the dust.

She saw the Dark Mages immediately. Get the bag of coins, nothing more. Don’t kill either of them, she repeated to herself.

She sprinted towards Viren, ignoring his apprentice. He swung his staff at her, and she used her sword to parry it.

she took a quick scan of his body, there was a bag of coins in his pouch, she could feel a few minds inside.

Viren pushed her back and his apprentice drew another corrupted sun spell rune. Heather ducked beneath Viren’s staff and reached for the pouch, grabbing the coins and tucking them into her sash pocket. She stood behind Viren and wrapped her arm around his chest and dug her heel into his knee, forcing him to the ground. With her free hand, she tore his staff from him and tossed it aside. She placed her foot on his nape, forcing him to stay still as she aimed the point of her sword at his head.

“I wouldn’t do that,” called his apprentice.

Heather looked at her. She had no intention to kill him, only to get her to stop attacking the others.

She held the corrupted primal stone of the staff towards the elves; they were unharmed, but a ring of purple flames surrounded them. “Kill him and I’ll give them an agonizing death,” she warned.

“You must convince her you were going to kill him,” Aaravos lectured.

Heather tightened her jaw and glanced from the Dark Mage to the Dragonguards. “If I do, you’ll let them go?”

The apprentice nodded. Heather could tell this man was dear to her.

Heather raised her sword and slid it into the scabbard on her back. “Somnum,” she said, taking her foot off of Viren. The fire around the Dragonguards went out and the apprentice Dark Mage slowly fell to the ground, caught by Haco’s dark hand by the last second.

“Let’s leave them here and get that staff back to the Sunfire mage. Maybe she can fix it,” Heather said with a stretch.

[melaninmarvelgirl62]

Overworked Part 2

Erik Killmonger x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Lightly Proofread. Please excuse any errors.

A/N: I’m sorry for how long this took to get out you guys. This is my first time writing Dadmonger and I’m a little nervous. I hope y’all enjoy it. As always please like, comment, and reblog.

9:48 a.m.

‘I should be up by now.’ Erik thought to himself. He sighed lowly and continued staring at the ceiling like he had been doing for the past hour. He should be sitting in his office prepping for the meeting he had at 10, but he isn't. He’s at home, in bed, lying comfortably next to his favorite person in the world. Now, in his defense, he really did try to go to work this morning. He had woken up late, a little after 8, which never happens. He's usually up well before 6, but this morning the sensors in his brain seemed to malfunction this morning. When he finally woke up he managed to, begrudgingly, pull himself out of bed to complete his morning routine. He emptied his bladder, brushed his teeth, and showered all in less than 20 minutes. He got dressed and made his way to his car, where he sat for about 15 minutes before going back into the house, trading his clothes for a pair of basketball shorts and crawling back into bed. So, yeah. He really did try but for some reason he just couldn’t do it. 

Well, maybe not just some reason. 

He looked down to where your body curled into his. Your leg was thrown over his waist and your head was lodged between his side and his armpit. The positioning looked awkward and uncomfortable but the peaceful look on your face, paired with your soft snores told him otherwise. A small smile graced his face as he reached over and tugged gently at the silk scarf that had begun to slip backwards. Taking hold of your thigh he hoisted it slightly higher causing you to curl into him further.

“It’s you. You’re the reason.”,he whispered to your unconscious form, chuckling quietly when a crease formed in your brow, and you burrowed your face further into his side. He thought back to the conversation you two had the night before, remembering the defeated look on your face. He felt like an asshole, honestly. Mostly because he didn’t even realize that he’d been neglecting you and the kids the way he has. None of the work he does is great enough to potentially put the foundation of his family at risk. You and the kids were his world, without y’all none of the other stuff really mattered.

The vibrations of his phone atop his bedside table drew his attention away from you. He looked over to see his assistant’s name flash across his screen and groaned. Reluctantly, Erik untangled your limbs from his. Being careful as to not wake you, he rolled himself into sitting position on the edge of the bed, instantly missing the warmth of your body. He picked up his phone and headed into his closet. Tapping the green icon, he put it on speaker and sat it down in front of him.

“I’m not coming in today, Alicia.”,he stated plainly, dragging a hand over his face.

“Yeah, i figured. I already cancelled your 10 o’clock appointment I was calling to confirm rescheduling dates for it as well as your 3:00.”, she answered, without missing a beat.

A sigh of relief escaped Erik and he smiled to himself, grateful to have hired a competent assistant. The two of them talked for a bit, discussing how taking the weekend off would disturb the week ahead, and  rearranging his schedule to fit in the meetings he would miss. Afterward Erik thanked her, and bid her a good  weekend. Hanging up, he went back into the bedroom in hopes of wrapping you in his arms. His hopes were shattered when he arrived to an empty bed. Beyond the bathroom door the steady pitter-patter of water against the shower floor could be heard. He kissed his teeth. ‘There goes the rest of my blissful morning’. He fell back onto the bed, pout in full effect, before innocent babble sounded through the baby monitor.

He made his way down the hall and into the nursery, where he found his 6-month old son, Isaiah, in his crib playing with a small black panther. Isaiah’s big brown eyes found Erik’s quickly and toothless smile lit up his round face, he dropped his toy and reached up for Erik.

“Wassup, lil man?”,he asked, retrieving him from his crib. Isaiah responded enthusiastically, bouncing in his arms and giggling. Erik smiled, too engrossed in Isaiah to notice you leaning against the door jamb watching with a soft smile on your face.You walk into the room and stand behind him. Wrapping your arms around his torso, you press your lips to his back, before resting your cheek against his warm skin. “I think we got a visitor, lil man.”,Erik said and your smile widened. You step into his line of vision and he leans down to quickly brush his lips over yours, muttering a soft ‘good morning’ against them.

“Well this is a pleasant surprise.” ,you say and Erik chuckles. Your son sees you and reaches down for you with a small whine. You take him into your arms and pepper his face with kisses, causing his infectious laughter to fill the room. “Were you having fun with baba?, you ask Isaiah and he looks to Erik with a big smile, bouncing excitedly saying ‘baba’ and you and Erik chuckled softly.

Leaving the nursery, you make your way across the hall to your 4 year old daughter’s room. You peer into the room to find Kaia sleeping peacefully and ease the door shut. You gesture at your husband to do the same thing for your 5 year old, Elijah. He mirrors your actions, quietly closing the door behind him.

You head downstairs and into the kitchen with your son in tow and your husband close behind. Sitting Isaiah in his high chair, you stand at the island and begin cutting up a banana into large chunks and placing them in front of your son, who wastes no time mashing the fruit between his fingers, eating it, and babbling happily. You chuckle softly and grab a bottle of milk from the fridge, placing it in the bottle warmer, and waiting for the milk to heat. The warmer beeps and Erik watches as you pluck the bottle from the warmer, sitting it in front of Isaiah, after testing the liquid on your skin. He walks around from his seat at the island to stand behind you. He braced himself against the counter top with one hand while his arm found a place around your waist, hand venturing beneath your tank top in search of your warm skin. His hold on your waist loosened slightly as you turned to face him. You wrap your arms around his torso, your eyes peering up to meet his.

“Hi.” The word leaves your lips softly as you smile up at him knowingly.

“Hi” He replies, with a smile that matches your and he leans down to bring his lips to yours. The kiss was soft and unhurried, not unlike the thousands of others you’d shared, but it felt different. Like an unspoken promise of sorts. Your lips left his and you rested you head against his broad chest, appreciating the steadiness of his heartbeat beneath his scarred skin. Your nails scratch at the small of his back, gently, and his hold on your body tightened once more.

“No work today?” ,you asked and he breathed out a quiet ‘mnmm’ in response. Warmth spread through your body at the sound and you smiled. One of his hands slid up your back, and into your hair,  giving the ponytail of faux-locs on your head a light tug. You took the non verbal cue and your eyes met his once more.

“I want you to know that I heard everything you said last night.” his tone was light but serious as his dark brown eyes peered down into yours. You downcast your eyes, your lips ghosting his sternum before resting your chin there.

“I know you did.” ,you said eyes on him again. There was no doubt in your mind that Erik had taken your words seriously. “You being here this morning tells me that much, but for the record, had you gone into the office this morning I wouldn't have doubted that for a second.” He nodded at your words but didn’t say anything further. He simply cradled your head to his chest, fingers gliding against the nape of your neck. The two of you stayed like that until a sharp gasp drew your attention away from each other. Your daughter stood in the middle of the kitchen floor, purple bonnet askew, staring wide eyed at the two of you. Erik let go of you and crouched down low with his arms opened wide. Kaia took off running, small body hitting her father’s chest with a thump. Erik grunted at the impact and folded her into his arms. He showered her face in kisses and she giggled pushing him away.

“Baba, stop it!” she squealed, through a fit of laughter. He placed one last kiss on her dimpled cheek before relenting to her request.

“How’s my princess?” he asked, the brilliant smile on his face mirroring his daughters. Kaia wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, her cheek pressed against his.

“I’m hungry.” ,she answered, shifting her vision in search of you. She found you leaning against the kitchen island with a grin on your face. “Morning, Mommy!” You cross the short distance over to them and kiss her cheek.

 “Good morning, Peanut. What do you want for breakfast?”

“Cereal.”

You spin around, surprised, when another little voice answers instead. Elijah walks past you with tired eyes. He hugs his father’s legs a small ‘good morning’ leaving his mouth, before making his way to you and doing the same. Since the day he was born you swore he was the calmest kid in the world, the polar opposite of his baby sister, who possesses more energy than any four year old you’d ever seen. You bend down and press a kiss into the mess of coils on his head.

“Which cereal would you like?” you ask, heading towards the pantry to retrieve the Coco Puffs you already knew they’d want. A Saturday tradition in the Stevens household. You prepare two bowls sitting them on the table. Kaia detached herself from her father and goes with her brother to sit.

“Thank you, mommy.” their voices mirror in unison.

“You’re welcome, my loves.” You smile and kiss the tops of their heads. Stopping in front of Isaiah, you use the bib around his neck to wipe his face clean, he stops his babbling to give you a gummy smile. Erik joins the children at the table with his own large bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. You stand behind the island committing the moment to memory. It’s been about a month of Sundays since all of you had eaten breakfast together due to Erik’s recent work schedule. Grabbing a bowl, you rip a page out of Erik’s book and take a seat.

The rest of the day went on like that. Kaia and Elijah were glued to their father sides only breaking away for food or the bathroom. As the evening slowly shifted into the nighttime you all found yourselves in the backyard. Bellies full from the  dinner you’d eaten prior. You and Isaiah were sitting on the patio, watching, while the rest of your family splashed around in the pool. You smiled as you watched Erik send a large wave of water crashing down over their heads, thankful that wash day for Kaia was right around the corner. When Isaiah yawned and laid his head against your chest, eyelids fluttering closed tiredly, you checked the time on your phone. 8:49 p.m. You got your husband’s attention, silently telling him that it was time to go inside. You headed upstairs to put Isaiah to sleep. Hopefully for the night. He went down easily, unconsciously gripping the small stuffed panther cub you kept in his crib. 

You eased the door closed and went searching for Erik and the kids. You found them in the bathtub, laughing at something Erik was doing with the bath time toys. They had begged to opt out of nap time today and you could see the tiredness hidden behind their wide eyes.’They’ll sleep good tonight.’ You think to yourself with a small laugh. You walk over, pulling a random co-wash from your product stash and work it through your daughter’s hair, and rinsing it, before moisturizing it and braiding it into four neat cornrows. Erik drains the tub and you each hold out a towel for the children to step into. You take Kaia and Erik takes Elijah. You carry them to their respective rooms to dress them for bed. You tied up Kaia’s hair and tucked her in, placing a kiss on her forehead.

“Goodnight’”you whispered, but she didn’t respond, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. You and Erik passed each other in the hallway as you made your way to Elijah’s room and he made his to Kaia’s. Your son’s soft snores were the first thing you noticed when you entered his room. You tiptoed over to his resting form pressing your lips to his forehead before quietly exiting the room.  As you walked back to your bedroom you saw the nursery door open. You peeked in to see Erik standing over Isaiah whispering something in Xhosa. You smiled and continued on to the bedroom.

Once there you walked into the bathroom, and started the shower, shedding the leggings and tank top you’d been in all day. You wrapped your hair into a bun at the top of your head and stepped beneath the spray of the hot water, body relaxing instantly. Taking your loofah, you squeeze the brown sugar and honey scented shower gel into it and begin to scrub the days activities from your body.

“Mind if I join you?”, Erik appears, seemingly out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you. The small squeak you let out makes him chuckle. He mutters out some form of an apology but there’s absolutely no remorse in his tone. You roll your eyes and smack his chest before returning to the task at hand. He steps fully into the shower behind you, pulling you back against his chest. You instantly relax into his body, the suds on you transferring onto him.. He groans, “I’m tired as fuck. I don’t get how you run after them kids all damn day.”He gets his arms around you securely and plants a trail of kisses across your shoulder and up the side of your neck.”You a good ass mama.”, he whispers in your ear. You smile softly and turn your head, tilting it up a bit as he captures your lips with his in a deep kiss. He guides you beneath the streams of water, careful not to wet your hair,and watches as the soapy water glides down your body. He pushes your back against the shower wall and covers your lips with his again. You sighed contently as his hands travel over your body, settling on your backside. He kneads the supple flesh, his lips leaving yours to nip down the length of your neck. A soft moan escapes you as he presses himself firmly against you, his thick member weighing heavily against your hip. He makes a move to lift you and you whimper in protest, pushing at his chest. You’ve always hated shower sex, which he knows, and he’s dropped you every single time you two tried it, so that was a hard no.  He pulled away from you, with an eyebrow quirked in question, bottom lip tucked between his teeth. 

You snort and roll your eyes, “I thought you were tired.”He laughs humorlessly, eyes low and drunk with lust, as they freely roamed your wet body. He offers no words as he moves towards you. Acting quickly, you dodge him and step out of the shower. He kisses his teeth,a menacing ‘stop playin’ wit me, ma’ falls from his lips causing a shiver to run down your spine. “I’m not, I promise. Finish your shower and come to bed.” You press your lips to his again, fingers purposefully brushing against his rigid arousal, drawing a low growl from his throat. You pull away smiling. You’ve really missed this.

“Naked.” The word makes you stop in your tracks as you made your way back to the bedroom. You turn to face him a soft ‘hmm?’ leaving you.He walked towards you, water dripping from his naked body, “Be naked when I get there. I mean that shit.” He emphasized the statement with a hard smack to your behind, your wet skin stinging in its wake.

You moaned and a slow smile appeared on your face, “Yes, Daddy,”. You take one of the fluffy white towels from the shelf in your bathroom and pat your body dry. Wrapping yourself in your long silk white robe, you make your way into the bedroom, picking up your vanilla and coconut scented body butter on your way out. You sit on the edge of the bed and smooth the product over your skin, thoroughly enjoying its sweet scent. Your body hummed with excitement as you waited for your husband to come out of the bathroom. You move to remove the robe from your body, your nipples hardening as they meet the cold air. Just as you’re about to drop the garment completely, you hear three little knocks at your door, followed by a soft ‘mommy’. The whine that left you was a little more than pathetic. A defeated sigh escaped you as you pulled the robe around you once more, securing it tightly. Behind the door stood Elijah, thumb in his mouth and his stuffed jaguar tucked beneath his arm.

“What’s wrong, chipmunk? Bad dream?” you asked softly, lowering yourself to  his eye level. He nods, laying his head on your shoulder. Enfolding him in your arms you stand up and walk over to the bed. You take a seat with him in your lap just as Erik steps out of the bathroom, thankfully, with a towel around his waist. He takes in the sight in front of him and laughs at the joke that is his sex life.

“18 days.”,he says,incredulously, to no one in particular, staring up at the ceiling. You laugh softly to keep from crying.

“18 days.”

Erik was going to make sure that the two of you didn’t make it to 19.

A/N: Have kids they said. It’ll be fun they said.Thanks for reading! One more part to go!!! 

@chaneajoyyy @fd-writes

[monstersandmaw]

Male gargoyle (Alesh) x female reader - Part Two (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Ok, so it’s been over a year since I posted Part One of this boy on Tumblr when I was just starting out on here, and I’ve had people popping into my inbox every now and again and asking if there’ll be more. And here, finally, it is! All 5776 words of it!

It’s been up on my Patreon for about a week or so now, and if you want early access to every Tumblr story, plus lots of extra bonus content and patreon exclusives, don’t forget to sign up and become a part of things over there too!

There’s a fair bit of nsfw in it, and some separation, but it’s got a happy ending. I hope you enjoy it.

Part One to remind yourselves!

___

All you wanted to do the next day was stay on that balcony and stare at him. His stony gaze was locked on you if you stood on the balcony, and you blew him another kiss before you went down to breakfast in the hotel, and another before you left to explore for the day. You felt a little foolish, but you thought he might appreciate it, if he could even see you when he was literally made of stone.  You didn’t exactly know how his magic worked.

You really had to force yourself to go out and see some more of the city. There were art galleries and museums housing incredible artefacts from the city’s history, and you weren’t going to sit around all day waiting for your statue to come to life again. The thought occurred to you that maybe you should be surprised - or even concerned - at how quickly you’d accepted this turn of fairytale events, but all you honestly felt was excitement.  

You ached all morning, still able to feel him deep within you from the night before. You kept replaying the way his whole body had gone rigid as he came inside you, his great wings spread above you like the sails of some dark ship. He had been immensely powerful, jaw gritted, muzzle pulled back and locked in a ferocious snarl that should have been terrifying, fangs flashing as he spent himself. Those enormous talons had left holes in your sheets large enough to put your fingertips through, and you hoped you wouldn’t be charged for those. 

His shoulders could have been sculpted by Bernini himself from the way they curved into his biceps, and his leather-smooth, dark grey skin was flawless until it reached that extensive scaring on the right side of his face. The bomb damage in the war had ripped away the flesh of his muzzle to reveal a number of the teeth along one side of his jaw. In the moment he’d given himself to you, he’d forgotten about the ravages done to his face, and he had looked more beautiful than ever, his eyes glowing like sunset. Those growling snarls of pleasure filled your mind all day as you walked the city.

You eventually lost yourself in taking photographs of the former city gates, walking the city walls, tasting amazing local food in the market, but every time you smiled – truly smiled – it was because of him. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d really smiled like that. Sure, your ex had been able to make you laugh, but that was before he cheated on you. You shuddered at the thought of what a mess that had all been.  

As you wandered up towards to the old castle on the hill above the centre of town, a chill wind began to tug at your clothes and hair, but you kept going. No point going back to an empty hotel room when your gargoyle wouldn’t be able to move for hours yet anyway. You hoped he would come back again, that he wouldn’t have grown bored already. He’d said he wanted to come back, but a lot could change in a day, as you well knew.  

You couldn’t help but wonder as you walked around the grounds of the medieval fortress whether all the statues in the city could move. You eyed a fierce looking lion on a pedestal and imagined it roaming the castle grounds at night. Another gargoyle, not dissimilar to yours, leered down at you from a parapet of the castle keep, with twin horns that curved backwards over its head and a pair of large wings protruding from muscular shoulders, and you smiled as you saw it, and even greeted it as you passed beneath.

Perhaps Alesh had looked like that when he was new. You wouldn’t change him though. You liked his face the way it was. You liked to see the teeth as they ground together, you liked – “Oh hell, stop thinking about him and enjoy the damned castle, will you?” you snarled at yourself.  

The sky eventually began to darken, and you made your way back to the hotel, grabbing something to eat on the way. You had a couple of hours before sunset, but when you got back to your room, you couldn’t help going to the window and peering out. Your gargoyle was still there, hand extended towards you. There were people on his balcony though, obviously on a late, guided tour of the cathedral. A sudden thrill of fear shot through you at the thought that he might have given himself away or something by randomly changing after, what, centuries of being the same, but no one seemed to notice.

One tourist did put their hat on his head and take a selfie with him. You snorted at that, imagining that somehow he would not be best pleased about that.  

You showered, washed your hair, dried it, put on just a little makeup, checked your reflection in the mirror, took a deep breath, and then went back to the balcony with a book to wait for sunset.  

Minutes ticked by like hours.

You could barely reach the end of a sentence without looking up at the sky to see if the sun was nearly set.  

Eventually, torturously, it slid below the roofs, the tide of light washing away up the walls of the cathedral as the shadows pushed it back until it left him illuminated in a pool of fiery light.

You stared transfixed, smiling, waiting.  

Slowly, very slowly, the skin seemed to come alive as the light faded to the quiet purple of twilight. His body no longer looked completely like cold stone. His tail began to move first, slowly swinging free of the pedestal like a weighted cord. Next, he shuffled the weight on his back paws, taloned toes wiggling slightly as though cold and stiff. His wings began to flex slowly, cautiously, as though they might shatter if he moved too suddenly.  

He worked out the crick in his neck, and finally his shoulder released and he lowered his extended arm carefully. It honestly looked extremely painful, and you realised your brows were pinched together with worry and concern for him. Your heartbeat thudded in your ears. He looked at you and then lowered his head slightly, as though bashful. It seemed almost ludicrous that a creature as big and intimidating as him could be shy. Then he cocked his head to one side and you beckoned him questioningly over to you.  

Alesh looked around before reaching down and padding across the balcony like a leopard on all fours, keeping his profile low. He popped his front paws up onto the balustrade and looked carefully in all directions, including at the windows of the hotel. His left ear – the right had been blasted off along with his horn during the war – was flat against his head and his wings were pinned to his back. He was frightened.  

“You want to wait til it’s darker?” you called, as loudly as you dared.  

He looked up at you with such longing in his eyes, and whined like a dog shut outdoors. He still looked stiff and sore but he shook his head. “I can’t,” he whimpered.  

“Be careful…” you said. God, if anyone with a smartphone happened to be standing by the window…  

He gave a tentative flap of his wings, then leapt onto the balcony railing properly and sprang off, gliding over to you and landing a little awkwardly, right at your feet. He skidded, tail working to balance him with his wings, and you had to step back to avoid being skittled like a bowling pin.  

“Come inside,” you hissed, throwing the door open and stepping aside as he slithered into your room, quiet and quick as a cat’s shadow.  

The moment you closed the door and drew the curtains, he turned around and all your doubts evaporated. Standing on his hind legs again, he drew you into a huge embrace, one of his huge paws around your waist, the other cradling your head. His talons pricked your scalp, but not painfully. His tail coiled around your left leg and squeezed. His wings too unfolded and he held you with those, blotting out the light so all you could do was feel him close, smell the leathery, mossy scent of his skin, and hear him breathing hard, a sound like wind through the cathedral columns.  

He was cold this time. Not painfully so, but still, his skin was chilled as though, well, he’d been outside all day. You muttered something about him being chilly, and he pulled back a bit. “I’ll warm up in a moment,” he said. “I’m still… adjusting.” He pressed his muzzle to your hair and inhaled the scent of you. “I missed you. It’s been torture.”

“You should have picked an easier pose to hold all day,” you laughed, running your hands up to his massive shoulders and squeezing the muscle. It was so solid beneath your fingers you weren’t sure he wasn’t still made of stone. “Does it hurt…? When you change, I mean?”

“Yes,” he grunted. “But not for long. Now I have you, I have something to look forward to. Something to change for…”

“So if I weren’t here, you would still be stone? You don’t automatically shift at sunset?”

He shook his head, moving a little way back to let you breathe better without being smashed against his chest. His torso was smooth, though the collar of his mane hung around his neck like a mantle and trailed a little way down between the planes of his pecs and down his spine between his wings. A single line of thick hair trailed all the way down his abs to between his sculpted legs as well. He was speaking, but it was hard to concentrate on his words while you were looking at him.  

His fingers slipped beneath your chin and he tilted your face up to look at him. “Are you even listening to me?” he chuckled.  

You blushed, the hot sting filling your cheeks, and you looked away. “I’m sorry.” You turned your eyes back to his after a few heartbeats, and looked up at him through your lashes. “You’re so tall,” you giggled. He let go of you then and fell forward, landing silently all fours to become more like a big cat. A big cat with wings and a horn…  

“Better?” He smirked and the gesture was accentuated by the scars that rendered his face somewhat lopsided. He still came halfway up your torso, even like this.  

You threaded your fingers through his shaggy mane on the top of his head and he started to purr almost instantly. He leaned into your touch as he had done the night before, pressing his cheek against your palm.  

You sank onto the small sofa in your room, and he pressed your thighs open so that he could put his chest between your legs and rest his face in your lap. He still kept the left side towards you, the right with its long-healed, leathery scars concealed. His tail was working idly behind him, back and forth and occasionally wrapping itself idly around his own ankle, as though for something to do with it. He was still purring. “Your touch,” he whispered after a while, a shiver running through his whole body.

You smiled. “Has anyone ever touched you like this before?” you asked him.

Again, he shook his head.  

“Never hooked up with another gargoyle from the other side of the cathedral?” you asked playfully.  

He snorted a laugh and looked up at you with eyes that glowed like the embers of a campfire. “There’s never been anyone.”

“Wait,” you breathed. “The cathedral is, what, early fourteenth century?”

He stared at you and took a steady breath.  

“Were you part of the original design?”

“I was added during the nineteenth century craze for all things gothic,” he said. “I’m old, but I’m not that old.”

“But still, you’ve never been with anyone?”

He shook his head and sat back suddenly on his haunches. “Does that bother you? Did I not please you last night?”

“Oh, Alesh, no, that’s not it at all! You definitely did please me. You were incredible. I’ve never come like that before. No one has ever –” You broke off as an image of your ex flashed across your memory.  

His paw came down gently on your thigh, the lethal talons resting idle. He made a noise in his throat and chest, a curious kind of chuffing sound, and you looked up at him. Still with his face half turned away, he managed to look you straight in the eye.  

You sighed, trying to relax. You reached your hands out and cupped both sides of his face in your palms. He closed his eyes, as though steeling himself to let you see him properly, and as your fingertips fluttered down to rest on the puckered scars of his face, he shuddered.  

You leaned forward in your seat and planted a kiss on the unbelievably soft skin of his muzzle. A tremulous gasp left him then. You ran your finger along the fangs that protruded from his upper jaw. The one on his right side was a little chipped. You kissed his delicate, scarred muzzle again and again, over and over until he was shaking so hard you thought he might just collapse.  

“Please,” he rasped. “I… It’s too much… I can’t…”

Glancing down, you saw that his cock had unsheathed itself, and was standing erect, pre-come already beading on the red tip and rolling down its ridged length to slide over his balls.  

“You’re so sensitive, Alesh,” you murmured. You ran your thumb over the ear that twitched every so often, sitting just below his left horn. Since his right ear was also missing, you wondered if it affected his hearing. He had been lucky not to lose his right eye as well in the bombing. His left ear, you discovered, was also immensely sensitive.  

Gasping as you drove him rapidly almost to the edge just by playing with him, he rolled suddenly over onto his back on the floor, exposing himself at your feet, eyes closed, long body stretching away from you. His hard cock bounced against his abdomen, printing a pearly spot onto his abs. He was clearly so hard that he could barely think straight. His lips drew back and he began to snarl softly, tongue working behind his teeth as he tried not to drool out of the right side of his mouth.

“You’re so beautiful,” you smiled, sinking onto your knees on the floor beside him and stroking his hard chest and chiselled stomach. One leg began to twitch a little, taloned toes curling, and you sank your teeth into your lip to keep from smiling too broadly. He was gone. So beautifully gone.  

He cried out and his whole body lurched when you lowered your head and took him in your mouth.

Alesh’s taste was salty and a little sweet, and you made a firm circle with your lips and sank as far down his shaft as you could reach before returning to his head. Your tongue played with the slit at his tip and he writhed and whimpered, more of his pre-come leaking from him as you licked the sensitive underside of his cock in a searing stripe.

“Stop,” he panted as you worked up and down his shaft as best you could. You had to close a fist around the base because there was no way you could take all of him in your mouth. “Please… I’m cl- … I won’t… I won’t last if you… ah!”  

You ignored him. You didn’t care if he came quickly. He looked so beautifully lost.  

Your fingers teased the curve of his balls as you took him all the way to the back of your throat, eyes beginning to water. Your lips and tongue played over the ridges and bumps in his cock, and you fought to stay relaxed as he rutted upwards into the heat of your throat. You pulled back to recover and he reached vaguely for your shoulder.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m sorry. I’m –” You silenced him by swirling your tongue around the head of his cock again, pressing the tip of your wet tongue into the slit while your fingers played along the edge of the velvet-soft sheath at the base and he cried out again in a seemingly endless series of moans and whimpers.  

His thighs shook with the effort of holding himself back, but as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked, your middle finger teasing the subtle crease behind his balls, he gave one final grunt of a warning, and you felt him clench.  

Hot cum hit the back of your throat and you tried to swallow it, but there was too much. It spilled from your lips and poured down your chin, splashed onto his hips where you were still leaning over him. His fists clenched and his jaw jutted upwards, and his scarred lips drew back as the sounds of his growling snarls filled the room. Luckily the tip of his horn was rounded and not sharp, or there would have been a long gouge in the hardwood floor of your hotel room.  

His abs clenched as his climax tore through him. His tail lashed wildly and caught his ankle, coiling around it and tightening like a python as waves of pleasure shot through him. As it passed, he went slack with a grunt, head hitting the floor again with a soft clunk. Your lips and chin and cheeks were absolutely covered in his release.

He cracked an eye open a moment later, still breathing heavily. You smiled shyly at him and he took a few more breaths to steady himself.  

“God above,” he swore. “I was not prepared for that.” He shot you a sidelong glance through heavy, lidded eyes and added, “Nor were you by the looks of things.”

“I hardly mind; you came so beautifully,” you said. “But I am gonna clean up, ok?”

He closed his eyes and nodded, resting his head back on the floor again. “I’m not sure I can move yet.”

When you came back from the bathroom, he was just rolling onto his side and pushing himself up onto all fours. He shook himself like a dog for a moment, his mane rippling, and turned to look at you. “I could have cleaned you up, you know?” he smiled.  His speech was still a bit slurred, partly due to the extensive scarring and partly due to just how dazed he was.

The rest of your trip passed very much like that, with nightly visits and exquisitely powerful sex, but finally your last night came, and you cried and cried into the soft fur that formed the collar around Alesh’s neck. He held you tight and wept with you. “Tell me about where you live,” he said when your sniffles had abated a little, clearly trying to distract you.

You did. You told him of the little cottage you’d been renting after your ex had moved out, and you’d no longer been able to afford to keep the place you’d been in before. You told him of the country church nearby and of the allotments where people grew their own vegetables, of the little village shops and the crossroads, of the clear river that ran in a shallow, gravelly bed, of the ducks that liked to dabble there… You told him everything until you were hoarse, and the sky had begun to lighten.

The way he made love to you as dawn drew ever nearer was different from any other night. He was slow and careful, intense, taking his time with you, taking you to your peak over and over in gentle, rolling crescendos.

At dawn, he barely gave himself enough time to get back to the cathedral before the light broke over the building. If he transformed mid-flight, he could shatter on impact with the cathedral, but he just made it back to his plinth and settled into his normal pose as dawn crept up the carved facade of the cathedral and snuck down the northern side of the long nave where he lived.

You cried yourself hoarse again before you left the city and headed back to the quiet emptiness of your cottage.

Gradually, things returned to normal. You went to work, and you enjoyed looking back at the photographs you’d taken of your time in the city and with Alesh. All in all, it had turned out to be a much better trip than you’d imagined it would, but you couldn’t help missing your gargoyle dreadfully.

Late one Saturday afternoon, you decided to walk into the village to post a letter that you’d hung onto for far too long through sheer laziness. As your route took you past the local church, you glimpsed a shape on the roof that you’d never noticed before. The church had one or two finely carved gargoyles and grotesques dotted about it, so you assumed it was just one of those which had never caught your eye before then. Maybe they moved around too when the sun set…? They would never be like Alesh to you though, even if you could find the courage to introduce yourself at some point.

As you stared up at it, the sinking sun caught what was visible of the sculpture from behind, throwing it into harsh and yet shapeless relief, and the memory of Alesh on his plinth speared once again into your mind. You looked away, forcing yourself to walk on into the village via the post box, and to focus on something other than the searing ache in your chest.

Idly picking up a newspaper as you browsed in the village shop, your eye was instantly drawn to an article on the apparent theft of a cathedral sculpture which had been heavily damaged during the war. Your heart slid sideways in your chest. That had to be Alesh. Who would steal him? And how? Your eyes scanned the article; it seemed that the authorities and the cathedral staff were baffled as to how such a heavy sculpture could have been removed without anyone seeing.

At that, your brain began to work.

Had he left? Could he even leave? Didn’t he have to be back on holy ground to recharge, otherwise he could crumble away to nothing? Holy ground. Like a church…

You turned on the spot, dropping the newspaper back into the pile and racing out of the shop without buying anything. Sweat rolled down between your shoulder blades by the time you reached the parish church, and you barely dared breathe, let alone hope, as you stared up at the leaded roof behind the crenellations. Sunset was possibly still an hour way.

You paced.

You walked the graveyard, trailing along the rows of headstones, reading every name but never remembering it for long. You kept staring up at the roof line where you could barely see the figure of what looked - at least to your delirious thinking - like a gargoyle, sitting half crouched behind the row of crenellations which jutted up along the top of the walls of the parish church. It was simply impossible to tell if it was him or not, and as the daylight faded with the tantalising slowness of sand through a watched hourglass, your agitation became unbearable. If it turned out to be a discarded bucket or something, your disappointment would be crushing.

Finally, with the lengthening shadows, the chill of evening started to seep into you and you found yourself standing under an oak tree, shaking with anticipation and wild hope. Could it be him? How had he found you? Surely you were more than a day’s flight from the cathedral? Was he alright? Was it even him?

Eventually the sun sank behind the hills and you couldn’t stand the tension any longer. “Alesh?” you called into the empty evening air. “Fuck, if that’s you, please try to hurry!”

A minute or so later, a face appeared above the crenellation and you gasped as huge wings spread wide behind them. A familiar silhouette, barely visible, of one horn and a stump on the other side, was all you needed to see to know it was him.

“Alesh!”

He glanced around and then hurled himself down, soaring on stiff, leathery wings. He landed right in front of you and staggered slightly with the force of his impact. He reared up onto his hind legs, barrelling into you hard enough to drive the air from your lungs, and swept you into his chilly embrace. “I missed you so much,” he whimpered, enfolding you tightly in his wings and pressing his scarred face against the side of your head.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” you whimpered, still crushed by his embrace. “Alesh, they’ve noticed you’re gone,” you said as you hugged his slim waist and inhaled the beautiful, mossy scent of his skin.

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised at that and shifted his face a little. “Ha, well, that’ll give them something to chew on I suppose! How are you? Are you well?”

“How did you find me?” you asked in astonishment.

“I looked for weeks for a village fitting the description…” he said, sitting back on his haunches like a tired hunting dog and smiling up at you. His familiar, weathered, puckered, scarred face sparked such intense joy in you that you simply burst into tears. “Oh, don’t cry,” he said. “Did I do the wrong thing? Should I not have looked for you?”

“How long can you stay?” you asked through your sobs of relief and happiness.

He shrugged. “I can rest on this roof, I suppose, or on the hallowed ground of the graveyard somewhere in the bushes, so… indefinitely…?”

“You’d… You’d leave your cathedral? For me?”

Alesh nodded. “I already did,” he grinned.

You sat with him in the churchyard until it was full dark, telling him about what you’d been up to since you’d left the city. It couldn’t have been very interesting for him, but he listened attentively nonetheless, happy to be with you and purring softly like an idling motorbike.

Gradually he got closer and closer to you, stealing little nuzzled kisses against your neck as you spoke, and as his attentions grew more heated, you felt your own body reacting. The scrape of his teeth as he opened his jaw and gently mouthed your entire neck made you whimper, and you finally hissed, “Not here…”

“Where then?” he said. “I’m aching for you… though I’m not sure how far I can fly now like this…”

Your eyes travelled ostentatiously down between his legs to where the tip of his cock was just peaking from its velvety sheath and leaking already. You sucked your bottom lip and groaned. “I missed you,” you said. “It’s dark now - can you fly high enough not to be seen but still be able to follow me home?”

He nodded, his jaw slightly slack and his eyes glittering. He was further gone than he wanted to admit.

You simply smiled and petted his head, fingers lingering on the stump of his right ear which made him gasp and whine softly.

“Come on.”

He took off in a rush of wings, sending leaves and light debris swirling around you as he sought the safety of the sky above. You could barely keep from laughing like a maniac all the way back to your house, and as you opened the front door of the little cottage at the top of the hill, he landed on all fours behind you and followed you inside.

You closed the door and turned around to find him gazing about your house with curiosity. He was panting, so he clearly hadn’t forgotten about how much he wanted you, but, like a curious cat, he was keen to start poking around already.

“Alesh?” you murmured, placing your hand on his back and making him wobble visibly.

“It’s nice,” he said quietly. “And it smells of you.”

You chuckled and began to head upstairs. The near-silent tread of his paw-like hands and feet on the stairs behind you got you oddly worked up as well, imagining his lithe body pacing behind you like a stalking predator. But Alesh was a gargoyle, a protector not a hunter, and he would protect you where others in the past had failed you; of that you were absolutely certain.

He followed you into your small bedroom and came up close behind you. His hands found their way to your waist and he lingered there before slipping his scarred, misshapen, beautiful muzzle up underneath the fabric of your top and licking soft kisses across the bared skin of your stomach. His teeth raked lines over your body and he worshipped you, rubbing his cheek across you in a very feline gesture of ownership and protection. All the while he showered you with affection, his deep, sonorous purring filled the room.

“Alesh,” you gasped, breath hitching as he finally tipped you back onto the bed and drew your clothes off you with his hooked talons.

You helped shimmy out of the last of your clothes and as you lay naked before him, you saw his cock - fully hard now - twitch at the sight of you. Pre-come drooled from the tip and dripped copiously onto your thigh as he lowered himself towards you. He took your nipple gently between his teeth, letting his tongue play over the hardening bud, kneading your breasts with his hands as he rutted his cock against the hollow of your hip.

His breath stuttered, a broken, frustrated, chuffing noise escaping him as his head dipped and he groaned.

“Alesh?”

“I want you…” he whispered through gritted teeth. He rolled his hips against you, the slick slide of his cock making your eyes roll and your clit throb. “I want to take my time with you, but… I… I need…”

“Then have me, Alesh,” you said, parting your legs a little and smiling up at him. “You think I don’t need you too?”

With that he lined his cock up with your wet lips and let the tip play there for a moment, enjoying the sensation of your arousal against his searingly hot cock. Then, in one smooth motion, he seated himself fully inside you.

A resonant growl left his curled lips as they peeled back to reveal his huge teeth and his eyes rolled closed just before his head bowed to rest on your forehead. You could feel the vibrations of his purring as you ran your hands over his muscular chest and up over his gorgeous shoulders. His skin was flushed and heated, the dark, slate grey warm to the touch as you skimmed your fingertips over him. His powerful body was notched here and there with scars from the bomb damage, but you had never beheld anything so beautiful in your whole life.

You told him so as he began to move, and he grunted and picked up his pace, spurred on by your words. His hips began to piston against you and he sat back a little raising one of your legs. “Is… Is this alright?” he barely managed to ask through his haze of lust.

You nodded. “Yes. More. Please…?” and he obliged by raising your other leg and hooking your legs around his neck.

His wings suddenly unfolded with a snap like a dark canvas above you and he growled, kissing your ankles and your calves, then biting your legs, raking his teeth over your skin but never hurting, holding your legs in place on his shoulders with his taloned hands. The sight of his claws pricking against your skin, like the teeth of a hunter’s trap that he was hardly managing to hold from snapping shut, made you tighten and clench around him and he lost the regular rhythm of his hips.

Drool slid from the scarred side of his face where his lips had been blasted off in the war, but he didn’t seem to notice as it hit your skin and rolled down your leg. Your arms snaked up above your head and you squirmed, back arching, your skin feeling like it was tightening all over, shifting your hips so that he could hit you deep, and just there where sparks shot through you. Sounds and praises poured from you as he rutted deeper and deeper, and finally he grabbed your hips, lifting you right up off the bed and tugging you flush against his body, driving himself as deeply into you as he could and then releasing with a wild roar.

His jaw widened, his teeth showing, his tongue curled, and his eyes were rammed shut as he emptied himself inside you. His wings were stretched as wide as they would go, and the sight and feel of him tipped you over the edge right after him. The sound and sensation of your clenching orgasm wrung every last drop from him until he let you back down onto the bed and collapsed on top of you, chest heaving.

You held him close, wrapping your arms around his neck and shoulders, letting his hot breath fan across your sweat-damp skin.

“I missed you so much,” he gasped, unable to catch his breath or steady himself.

“I missed you too, Alesh,” you said. “You don’t have to go back. As long as you don’t get me in trouble for theft of holy statuary…”

He laughed softly against your neck and you wriggled as it tickled. He grunted as his oversensitive, spent cock twitched at the movement, and you felt his release begin to slide out of you. “I’m making a mess,” you whispered.

“Will you let me clean you up this time?” he asked, pulling back just enough to see your face and pressing his clawed hands carefully into the sheets beneath you.

You nodded, and he withdrew, settling himself between your legs and beginning to lap gently over your sensitive clit, cleaning you with loving strokes while his huge hands rested on your thighs.

“I love you,” you whispered, and he froze.

Nuzzling his scarred, gnarled cheek against the inside of your thigh, he purred loudly and said, “I love you too.”

************************************

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[granblue-fantasies]

Nezahualpilli x Reader

For all of you out there who are also thirsty for this big, blustery bird man.

NSFW, lewd naughtiness below!

- - - - - -

“I’m truly glad the banquet pleased you,” Nezahualpilli’s voice boomed near your ear, “But the night is yet young. There are many more ways in which I’d like to show you my gratitude.”

The massive wooden chair he sat in - more like a throne, really - was at the head of a long table still strewn with plates, bowls, and platters of food, but the banquet-goers had departed, moving the festivities outside. You were straddling his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, and gasping with delight at the pressure of his girthy cock currently buried deep inside you. He had the heft of your ass and thighs cupped in his wide palms, fingers kneading your flesh as he rocked your body against him.

Your arms were locked around his neck, your face nestled beneath his jaw, moaning softly and planting needy little kisses against his skin. You attempted to speak, but as he suddenly gripped your ass harder and began moving you up and down your words were swept away. He grunted lowly in satisfied exertion, thrusting his hips up leisurely into your sopping core as you bounced on his cock. As you rode him he moved an arm to sweep his cloak around you, covering your body and enclosing the two of you within the mantle.

You could feel the rigid curve of his dick rubbing right up against a delicious spot inside you and you nipped at his neck, whimpering, begging him to continue. The chieftain chuckled softly and hammered his hips up into you, wrapping both powerful arms around your body and pinning you against his torso as he fucked you hard; the feel of his muscles rippling beneath you, the crushing force of his embrace and the mind-numbing bliss of his cock pounding into you sent you over the edge and your orgasm tore through you. You wailed for him, shuddering against him, and the sound of your cries coupled with the pulsing throb of your pussy around his shaft brought him to his peak as well. With a final heavy thrust and a low hum of satisfaction he pumped you full of his bountiful seed, cum shooting so deep inside you you could feel the heat of it far beyond the reach of his cock.

“Ahhh,” he sighed mightily, cradling you against him and rubbing your back with one hand. “And thus concludes the evening’s first act of unity. You can be assured there will be many more to follow, if you are willing,” he concluded with a broad smile. He brought a hand to your chin, tilting your head up and fixing you in his benevolent amber gaze.

“What say you, honored guest of mine?”

- - - - - -

[nitaescence]

vi. plus one

genre : DDLG!au word count : 7.5k warnings — littlespace, use of sex toy (in public),‘daddy’ kink, overstimulation, con noncon, thigh job, dry humping, protected sex, voyeurism, aftercare

sweetpea masterlist

Taehyung shuffled towards the couch where you were sprawled on, eyes glued to the wide colourful screen. He carefully placed one knee next to your joined legs and leaned forward to press his chest against your back. You were used to him cuddling you vertically, you kept your focus on the cartoon playing. He nuzzled your hair, inhaling your pleasant natural scent.

He stayed still just like that for some time and eventually left the comfort of your warmth to look at the TV as well. His attention was quickly drawn back to you and before you could react, he nimbly snatched from your mouth the strawberry-flavored lollipop he had given you after your meal as a treat for finishing your plate. You watched as the candy got trapped behind his smirk.

You furrowed your brows and writhed beneath him the best you could to show your discontentment. He looked down at you while shifting his weight on one arm to see the angry frown distorting your features. If there was something he would never get tired of, it was tormenting you, especially when there was nothing you could do about it — “no!” You whined, dragging on — especially when he got to hear the cute sounds of frustrations you made.

Jungkook had suggested to make some updates regarding the behaviors they had set for you to adopt and they both decided to have you babble some words occasionally; it was only meant to bring out your overall adorableness.    

Although you quickly fell back quiet, rolling out your bottom lip when your arm could not reach the candy Taehyung held teasingly in front of you. You slowly brought your fist to your mouth and blinked quickly.

“No, baby don’t cry.” He cooed, kissing your cheek. “Here,” your lips opened on command to welcome the lollipop in your mouth again.  

The afternoon went by uneventfully, with the exception of Taehyung who thoroughly enjoyed annoying you. You did not mind him manhandling you across the couch as if you were his plaything —as long as you could still watch your favorite TV show — it was always done with care and love; making you straddle his hips, his hands securing your body as he bounced you up and down, he smiled an impish grin as he ogled your breasts lightly jiggling.

By the time Jungkook came back home, Taehyung had you all giggling and flustered after tickling your thighs and burying his face between them so many times. The front door closed and your laughing died out as you squirmed away from Taehyung who gave you a pause, casually finger-combing his disheveled hair, to look at Jungkook walking inside the living-room with his arms full.

“I’m home,” he grunts unceremoniously as he dropped everything he was holding on top of the dining table. He started rummaging in one of the large bags he had brought with him and took out the candies you had requested him to get you.

He came to sit beside you, gave it to you and kissed your forehead. “tank you,” you shyly chirped all smiley and proceeded to sit on his lap.

Taehyung stood up to take a look at the content of the bags covering the dining table. “You got the package ?” He asked surprised,    

Jungkook did not look back, busy helping you opening the plastic bag. “I met the delivery guy on my way… Here, you go babe.”

You latched onto it and took out too many candies for your small hand to hold. Jungkook managed to catch those which slipped from you but you noticed one rolling down under the couch. He moved his arms to let you climb off him and crawled towards the edge of the armrest.

You heard them talking about a place to get to before a certain time before bending forward and looking for the deserter in question. You spotted it close enough to you for you to grab it. Your hands still clinging on the bag, reached back as back-up but the thigh high socks you were wearing made your legs slide along the leather fabric and prevented you from lifting yourself up. You could not use your other hand as your body weight would only help you fall flat on your face.

Your arm holding you up grew weak quickly and felt you would be falling at any time now. The helpless cries you let out had the two of them immediately halting their conversation to look at you and the enticing sight of your short skirt bunched above your butt, revealing your naked cheeks and panties as you yelped.

Jungkook nimbly slid sideway where you had crawled away from him. Chuckling, he gripped your hip strongly and in one effortless motion, he had your body tilted back up. “Baby, what were you doing down there? Hm?”

You let him cradle you in his arms, holding your candies in tight fists. He covered your face, red from all the blood gathered there, with soft kisses. “Let’s get you ready. We need to get going.”

You had finished all the candies by the time Taehyung had changed his clothes and Jungkook finished packing some of yours in your big baby blue bag. You held onto Taehyung’s hand after he had helped put your shoes on and walked out of the apartment.

“What about Mr.Teddy?” Smiled Jungkook as he handed you your soft toy you did not remember about it. You hugged the cherished toy against you, grateful as he fastened the car belt around you.

Taehyung stopped the car a couple of hours later in front of a tall and chic building. Jungkook walked you towards the entrance of the hotel while Taehyung took care of the few luggages with the porter. You went sit on of the large chair while they both met at the check-in desk.

Jungkook helped you swiping the card to get inside the room and pushed the door open. You slowly walked in and the first thing you noticed about the new place was the pleasant ambient smell mixed with fresh laundry. At the end of the small corridor, there was an opening on the right leading to a huge, luxurious bathroom. It faced the great room where two queen sized beds were perfectly made.

You went to sit on one of them while Jungkook and Taehyung settled their belongings. The sound of a bell ringing was heard a few minutes after and the porter walked in with the luggages.

“Do we make her change her clothes right now?” Asked Jungkook as he zipped down a large piece of cloth revealing a sparkling short red dress.

Taehyung pulled the back of his shirt over his head and opened one of the large bags at his feet, “I guess so. We don’t have a lot of time left.”

“Babe, come over here.” Jungkook held his hand open for you to take as he led you towards the other bed where the beautiful dress was. You let him take your soft toy out of your hands. “Arms up.”

He undressed you entirely, gathering the clothes in a different bag you guessed reserved for dirty ones. He picked a new pair of panties and a strapless bra from your bag. Taehyung left to open the door after the bell rang again while jungkook buttoned your dress which gave prominence to its low cut cleavage.

Taehyung showed up again followed by an unknown woman carrying a suitcase. You stared at her blankly as Jungkook went to greet her. Taehyung let his gaze travel to you as he slid his hands in his shorts pockets, pleasantly surprised and not able to take his eyes off you — shamelessly ogling your curves tightly hugged in the expensive garment he had chosen for you.

Jungkook walked back to you, “____, you are going to go with her, okay? She’ll do your makeup and hair like I told you remember?”

He gently grabbed your hand and rested his other on the small of your back to guide towards the bathroom where the lady was already settling her equipment. You sat on the pouffe moved right in front of the large mirror.

“We have around one hour ahead of us,” reminded her Jungkook. “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He nodded his head and you mimicked him to show him you would be okay on your own.

An hour later, the woman was putting the finishing touches and eventually left to call the two men to see if they were satisfied with the result. You inspected your reflection in the mirror, leaning forward as you looked at yourself from all angles, loving with your look.

You slowly spinned the pouf to face Jungkook who was smiling at you. Dressed in an elegant dark grey suit, you felt your stomach flutter at his sight. You looked up at him, watching him taking pleasure in gazing down at your enhanced beauty. He let his fingers softly brush the couple of strands falling in your eyes.

Taehyung appeared walked in as well, just as handsome. The sight of his revealed forehead surprised you a little. He had left the top button of his black shirt open on his collarbones.

Shock shifted his features for a second, quickly replaced with a mix of satisfaction and awe the more he stared at you. His obsidian eyes held so much you felt yourself becoming red in the face and hot everywhere else.

He stopped right next to Jungkook and you never ceased looking at them, towering. You noticed a content smile curving Taehyung’s lips as he moved his hand to cup your chin. He ran the pad of his thumb across your dark red colored bottom lip and thought of ways he would like to see your lipstick smudged.

“I think it’s time we make use of our little gift for you..” He trailed lowly while moving his hand from your mouth to the back of your head where he gently curled his fingers around your hair in a dominant way. “I’ll go get it.”

“Stand up.”

You gazed up curiously at Jungkook who was chewing his gum. He grasped your arms and pushed the stool with his foot to have you leaning back against the edge of the double-bowl sink unit. “Wanna play with me?” He cupped your face and kissed your mouth tenderly.

You kissed him back, hesitantly at first, not sure of what he was referring to, but you were soon swooning over him the more you felt him pressing his chest onto yours. His hand slid along your ribcage and gripped your hip before travelling further down to rub against the expanse of your naked thigh.  “There’s nothing to be afraid of, sweetie.”

You averted your eyes above his shoulder when you heard Taehyung coming back, fiddling with a hot pink object and his phone.

“Open your legs for me.”

You looked back at Jungkook who was kneeling down between your feet. His mouth moved to rest gently against your inner thigh and you wanted to know why he was doing this at this moment. He seemed a little eager as he made his way further up. You pinched your lips together to prevent yourself from whining out as you felt his fingertips deftly stimulating you over your panties.

Your thighs wanted to close around his hand but you knew you would surely trip if you moved them. Jungkook was back to kissing your skin again and you could feel more of that warmth spreading in your lower tummy.

The second following, your intake of air was filled with that familiar floral scent and when you opened your eyes frowning a little, you saw Taehyung standing tall and offering you his hand for support. He was still leering, looking down at you with a lust-filled and sultry gaze, “just relax, sweetheart. Need to get you prepped.”

Jungkook’s fingers curled against your skin to lower your panties down and allow him to reach your lips wet with desire. You clenched your fist when you felt him coating his thumb and playing with your arousal, spreading it teasingly along your slit and smearing your throbbing clit. He chuckled hearing the sounds coming from you as you held onto Taehyung for purchase.

“She’s already dripping,” he huffed licking your soft skin before standing up again, suckling on his thumb and smiling to you with his eyes.

“Is she?” Taehyung suddenly inquired, not giving you enough time to adjust to his fingers as he inserted them in one go. You moaned out in surprise and gripped onto his wrist. Jungkook wanted to stop him but stayed put when he did not see you in any form of pain. “Fuck, you are… What has you so worked up, baby?”

You whined out when he brushed against you sweet spot. He leant forward to say very lowly in your ear “Was it because of Jungkook’s fingers?” He carefully moved his hand to have his pads rubbing tight circles on your clit and you hand tightened around his arm just as your legs began to shake. “Or mine? Either way, now is not the time we get to have fun… But…” He explained while removing his fingers all together. You frowned in frustration, looked up at him. “I want to give you something to keep you waiting.”

With his coated fingers, he grabbed the sex toy he had been busy setting and held it in front of your face. “Open your mouth.”

You obeyed in the blink of an eye, welcoming the biggest edge of the object between your lips. Once he thought you had coated the toy enough, he slowly pulled it out of your mouth smiling at you before claiming your mouth in a ravishing fashion that had breath knocked out of your lungs. You moaned in his mouth the more he kept pushing the toy inside you and broke the kiss once it was fully sheathed with the antenna properly placed on top of your pelvic bone.  

He reached for his phone, connected via bluetooth, and pressed the “on” button allowing a pleasant buzz to start spreading within you, picking up where their stimulation had stopped.

“Does it feel okay?” inquired Jungkook who had been silent the entire time. You nodded.

Taehyung pulled your panties back up and adjusted your dress. Jungkook led the way and you feebly followed him, feeling Taehyung pressing a reassuring kiss on the back of your head.

More and more unknown people gathered in front of the elevator, most of them were men dressed like your caregivers. Jungkook led you in first and Taehyung followed suit, staring down at his phone.

You looked around you while the cabin began moving up to bring you to the right floor where the party was and met the eyes of one of those men. He was staring at you, the content look in his eyes got you to grasp beyond the shadow of a doubt his trail of thought as he leered you.

You frowned slightly at him, putting up the meanest face possible, just like Taehyung had once taught you to do if other men laid their eyes on you and you felt uncomfortable, but it did not seem like the man was much affected by it and even granted you an ugly smirk. You lowered your gaze, defeated, and naturally turned around to seek comfort in Jungkook. You huddled against him and he slid his arm on the small of your back, smiling down at you sweetly.

His grin faltered when he noticed that same man still ogling you and his eyes hardened, now grasping the situation. His palm slid further down along your butt cleft, molding your dress tightly against your cheeks, and stopped to grab a handful of them, pressing you possessively against him. That was the moment Taehyung chose to turn the vibration mode on.

You tense against Jungkook, pink colouring your face at the sudden stimulation, and gripped onto the lapels of his jacket. He softly kissed your forehead, his angry look getting the better of the man who eventually showed some common sense.

The doors moved together and gave entrance onto a luxurious apartment where several people were already present. They were all dressed nicely and had a glass of sparkling wine in their hands. Your hand held Jungkook’s tightly as you walked further inside, still feeling the buzzing inside.

Taehyung waved at him, “I’ll go and say hello to everyone.” His hand came to rest gently on your cheek, “you’ll stay with him from now on, alright? I won’t be long.” He pecked you.

You kept looking quizzically where he disappeared in the crowd of his coworkers, not feeling Jungkook gently tugging on your arm. “Angel, you coming? Our seats are over there…”

The evening passed by uneventfully. You found yourself missing Taehyung’s presence and had not quite caught the reason he could not be there with the two of you. Jungkook did his best to keep you entertained.

The table you were sitting around was occupied by three other people and saying that watching Jungkook tending to you during dinner had not led to curious and quite confused sideways glances thrown your way would not be true. But you did not care and Jungkook learned not to either.   

Your attention had been mainly focusing on that toy vibrating inside you every now and then. Taehyung kept playing with you even though you were not in his field of vision, teasing you with an orgasm that always seemed out of reach and he knew you would never dare touch yourself in public.

You were sure, wherever he was, he was pleased at the thought that you, his sweet little girl, was growing frustrated with his shenanigans, needing release in the middle of all those people and that he was the one having control over your pleasure.

After the dessert had been served, he set it to strong and rumbly vibrations, thoroughly stimulating your g-spot and clit, resulting in you soaking even more your flimsy panties. You tried to lean your hips backward, opening your legs under the table a little more and get the chair to press against the toy to have it reach further deep inside you.

Jungkook had left to go to the bathroom. With your head hanging low and you hair hiding you a little from the strangers, you let out a soundless gasp when you managed to have the toy vibrating right where you could feel yourself throbbing with need. Almost indistinctly, you begin rotating your hips, unintentionally clenching and relaxing around it to bring your climax closer and closer.

A fist pressing against your mouth, you clenched your eyes tight as you felt your high coming. Your thighs were sweating from exertion but you never lost your focus, stifling your noises the best you could the more warmth kept spreading within your lower region. A hot wave of pleasure struck you and the toy stopped buzzing.

This time around, everyone at the table heard the pathetic whine that escaped your mouth and your face got even redder. Before any of them got to inquires about your unexpected reaction, you jolted straight up, legs feeble and wet, and slowly walked away. Your breathing was heavy and your core pitifully clenching in vain as you tried to find Taehyung.

You eventually spotted him at another table across the room. Your steps were little more steady as you zigzagged up to him and suddenly they came to a halt, rooting you to the spot the second you noticed Taehyung talking to two unknown women. Your assertion withered instantly and you were uncertain about what you should do next. Your heart told you not to pay attention to anyone else other than Taehyung but you felt it hurting the more you saw him smile, that same smile you were used to see addressed only to you.

You became a little upset. You stuttered forward after a man had bumped into you and when you looked back ahead of you Taehyung was staring at you. He stretched his arm and latched his long fingers around your thin wrist.

“____, you okay? Come…” His voice sounded soft and nothing in it alluded to other not so soft things he had been doing to you. The women were smiling kindly at you. You slowly shook your head and wrested your hand from his. He slightly furrowed his brows but kept smiling, “You’ll go back to Jungkook?”

You nodded and slowly turned away to retrace your steps. You found Jungkook standing up next to your table, calmly looking around. His eyes lightened up when he saw you.

He hugged you to him, nuzzling your hair, “what did I tell you about disappearing on me?”

Jungkook slammed the door of the uber car and the engine began droning. His eyes naturally looked for you and instantly noticed Taehyung’s hand resting idly above your knee, running his nails on your skin.

You let Taehyung rest his arm around your shoulder when he moves it.

“____, sweetie… Will you let Jungkook open your legs for me?” His tone was low not to draw the driver’s attention on you but Jungkook heard it loud and clear and now he was unable to tear his eyes away from the naked expanse of your thighs.

When he noticed Taehyung tilting his head up above yours to look at him with raised brows, he let his warm hands roam your skin, not without throwing glances stealthily at the man in the front. He did not force you and waited until you allowed him to touch further between your thighs.

Frowning, you slowly raised one of your feet on your tippy-toe when his tips brushed your inner thigh very lightly, rousing you all over again at one fell swoop.

“Fuc-” Jungkook frowned too when he catched a whiff of your enticing arousal. “Baby... You’re soaking wet,” he whispered, smearing your wetness on your skin and flipping his hand around to take a look at his glistening fingers.

Taehyung’s smirk widened into a smile as he nuzzled your hair again, “of course she is…” His voice was dangerously low, “did you like it when Daddy played with you, babygirl?” The next second, the toy came back to life and you bit onto your bottom lip. “Do you want me to continue our little game?” You whined a little and leant your head against his chest. “Keep her legs open,” he ordered Jungkook gravely.

The younger man firmly gripped both of your thighs with his two hands. His eyes were set between your legs — the things he would do just to get to bury his face there or have you ride his face to your heart’s content for the purpose of having a taste of you and extract those cute little sounds of yours from your abused mouth.  

Taehyung was just as riled up as him and it showed. He could feel his cock fattening against his thigh inside his pants the more he got to smell you and watch you struggle against Jungkook’s unmatched strength as he kept changing the patterns of the vibrations.

“dad- huh-” you whimpered very subtly, curling one hand around Jungkook’s veiny forearm.

“I know baby, I know,” Taehyung kissed your temple. “I know I was being mean earlier. I promise I won’t stop this time… But you gotta keep quiet if you want what you need, hm?”

Jungkook could feel the change the more you got stimulated and quickly the strain in your thighs when you had tried to close them disappear and they gradually relaxed, opening a little more. You straightened yourself and Jungkook looked down at you a little concern.

You nodded to show him you were doing okay and he did not oppose you when he felt your small hand gripping onto the hair on his nape to get his lips onto yours. Kissing him helped muffling a little your moans and you started feeling a little more at ease. He left one hand on your leg and cupped your face with the other, deepening the loving gesture when he felt your thigh starting to tremble beneath his touch which had even blood rushing down to, swelling his twitching length.

Taehyung kept an eye on the two of you and when he recognized your neighborhood, he intensified the vibrations, watching your lower body jerking as your orgasm suddenly and powerfully overtook you. He rubbed your thigh soothingly while Jungkook made sure to drown out your moans, swallowing them all. He eventually parted from you breathing heavily, lips red and eyes droopy.   

You were barely making sense of your surroundings that Jungkook was already pulling you out of the car to carry you in his arms and Taehyung brought up the rear.

“Put her down,” he calmly said once the elevator doors of their building closed behind him and went to lean against the wall across the two of you.  

You started whining when you felt Jungkook letting go of your legs as he gently helped you standing up. Keeping your arms around his neck, you slightly bounced up to get him to carry you again.

“Come over here.”

Your lips jutted out and your legs bent a little under your weight which earned a content smile from Taehyung. Jungkook stayed close to you.

“Don’t you pout at me little girl,” Taehyung shook his head. “I won’t repeat myself.”

You tottered towards him, brows furrowed as you gripped onto the handrail. Right when you were close enough to him, he lunged suddenly, pinning you to the wall, the large expanse of his shoulders hiding you almost entirely. You flinched a little. His hand holding his phone came to rest above your head serving as support while his other moved to lift your chin.

“If there’s something I hate,” hot air fanned your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “It’s you acting like a spoiled princess. Look at me.” You reluctantly looked up at him, whining when you felt the vibrations stimulating you once again. You were still too sensitive and it hurt sensing the toy speeding up inside you relentlessly. You felt your legs on the verge of giving you up and you whined loudly, getting purchase on his jacket. Jungkook remained still, eyes set on you.

“Look at you,” Taehyung smirked, listening to your whimpers. He tilted his head at his friend, silently telling him to come join you. “Make her cum.”

Jungkook did not need persuading. His hand easily reached under your dress and between your legs. He slipped his hand inside your panties to get a hold of the buzzing device. You tried to protest, hands pushing and pulling his body in to show him you could not keep up anymore after he began thrusting the toy inside you, dragging it forcefully along your sleek walls and nearly numb clit, to no avail.

Your eyes were filled with tears and your whining became silent cries. They both get even more turned on with your arousal scent feeling the entire cabin. Jungkook surprised himself taking pleasure in pushing back your limits.

“I know it hurts, baby, but you’re doing so good. I’m so proud of you,” Taehyung encouraged.

You jerked in their arms, losing balance as you came a second time, clenching hard around the toy. Your juices trickled down along your shaking thighs and legs. The soaking wet toy enthralled Jungkook as he held it in his hand. You yelped softly, your body almost entirely collapsing to the floor.

“I got you, sweetheart. I got you,” Taehyung cooed carrying you in his arms.    

You were sitting on the toilet bowl naked, legs weak, while the two of them were undressing to get in the shower with you.

“i wan’ bomb..”

Jungkook cooed at your trailing voice, “it’s too late for a bath bomb, cupcake. You get washed and then it’s bedtime.”

They cleaned you first.

While rinsing the suds remaining on his lean body, Jungkook noticed from the corner of his eye Taehyung being extra touchy with you. He had his arms circling your front, gently rubbing the soapy luffa across your chest as his other hand rubbed the skin of your tummy.

He did not seem to mind Jungkook and shamelessly reached for his erect cock to sheath into the tiny gap between your thighs. He was whispering in your ears, tender words to try to coax you into his needs, slowly moving his shaft in and out which curved up against your sensitive lips. Jungkook teared his eyes from the sight, a little unsettled by his open lubricious behavior, and looked up at you. You were showing signs of fatigue and if it were not for Taehyung’s arms your legs would have already failed you.

“Alright, I’m done,” Jungkook announced loud enough for both of you to hear above the noise of the water.

Taehyung straightened behind you and you let him walk you until you were both under the shower head while Jungkook came out to dry his body with one of the clean towel nearby.

Taehyung turned you around and took the opportunity of washing you to let his hands roam your body unrestrainedly. His lips pressed against your wet skin, licking and sucking it tenderly while his hands kneaded your breasts.

You felt him adjusting his cock between your legs and his hands reaching for your ass to squeeze it tight and have you pressed up against his front and help himself jerk off at the same time. You felt your brain slowly disconnecting from everything around you as sleepiness overtook you, you were not responding to Taehyung’s touch but simply remained leaning against him, letting the warm water lull you to sleep.

“Done?” called Jungkook after he had loosely tied the towel around his hips.

Taehyung cradled your head to peek at your sleepy face, flaming because of the hot water. “Get her towel ready,” he mumbled without looking away from you.

You slowly turned around when Jungkook called you name and noticed him holding a large towel in his arms to wrap you up in. You let yourself softly fall against him and he covered your body.

He carried you out to the bedroom where he had turned the heat on for you not to catch a cold and gently put you down on the sheets. Kneeling, you were leaning your head on his shoulder, too tired to move away and ready to fall asleep at any time. Jungkook wrapped his arms around you and gently rocked you side to side as he attempted to look down at you.

“Baby, you wanna sleep?” You slowly nodded, yawning a little and stilled again.

He reached for the nightdress he had prepared and nimbly put it on you. He gently patted your head to get all the excess water out of your hair and eventually helped you lie down on the comfortable pillows. He leant back up and it made you whine.

Jungkook looked down at your grabby hands. He explained softly, a lopsided smile curving his lips, “let me get some boxers on.”

You forced your eyes open until you got to feel his warm chest against you. You pressed yourself up against him, not letting any space between the two of you after tucking your face in the crook of his neck and clinging on your blankie he had made sure to bring with him.

He was adjusting the thick white covers on top of you when Taehyung appeared walking in and shutting the lights off. His hair was still wet and so was the towel he dropped right before slipping into bed.

Jungkook had a hard time falling asleep that night and it mostly had everything to do with you. Right after he had become aware of your braless breasts, he knew he would not be anywhere near sleeping mode even more after you had moved in your sleep and pressed your ass against his semi hard-on.

The feeling of his swelling arousal was unmistakable against your butt but he could not get himself to draw away from you, not when you smelled that good, felt that soft and pressed his hand against your chest. A quick glance thrown over your head and he knew Taehyung was fast asleep. He also knew he had no reason to feel ashamed of himself and that you would never blame him for being turned on by you yet he could not shake that uneasy feeling settling in.

You were shifting a little in your sleep, softly mumbling and whining and Jungkook naturally hovered over you to make sure you did not wake up. He gently moved his hand from your grip, cupped your face and softly kissed your cheek. You unconsciously snuggled more into him, your ass molding perfectly against his straining crotch. His breath caught as he involuntarily squeezed himself against it in response.

His hand moved down beneath his briefs in order to adjust his cock and get it into the best position for him to get stimulated just the right amount. Jungkook jerked himself a little, nuzzling your hair as he eased out some of the tension. He looked down at the tip of his cock peeking past the band on his boxers, he could barely see anything but he caught glance of his precum glistening in the light of the moon bathing the bedroom through the thin curtains.

He cupped and kneaded his balls, gasping softly, you stirred against him and he almost moaned out loud.

“Fuck…” His voice was barely above a whisper. He needed to get release or it would hurt.

He very slowly let his fingers reach your thighs, sliding along the soft fabric of your nightdress he carefully bunched up around your hips. He found you wearing no underwear suddenly very convenient. He used your blankie to cover you and prevent you from getting cold. His arm circled your lower stomach so he got to keep your butt securely right against his raging boner.

Jungkook tested how discreet the mattress allowed him to be, the last thing he would want would be having Taehyung waking up to him humping you in your sleep.

He tilted his hips to and fro, snuggling his length against the crack of your ass as hard as he could without waking you both up. He also had to make sure he did not rustle the covers too much.

His rhythm was not as quick and powerful as he wished it to be but it was enough to have him throbbing every now and then. He could feel adrenaline pumping in his veins, quickening his heartbeat the more time he spent rubbing himself against you, quietly grunting.

He closed his eyes, thinking back of you in the elevator coming on his hand, losing himself in the very pleasant feeling spreading within his core and before he got to realise it he was curling over you, pressing his hot mouth against your shoulder blade.

Jungkook annoyingly pulled his boxers further down and let his tip rest against your warm skin, staining it with his sleekness the more he kept rubbing it there. His grip around your body was tighter than what he intended to but you felt so good and he had already passed the point of no return.

His balls were clenching and relaxing and he felt the tension his sweet climax brought along diffusing in his core; he barely managed to slip his boxers back on before the first spurts of cum shot out of him. He bit onto his lip, breathing hard through his nose and clenching his eyes tight while his fist closed around his erect and concealed cock, pulsing hard as more and more layers of thick cum erupted with each of his pumps, making it oozing out the fabric.           

The thin layer of sweat covering the top of his heaving chest and his pelvis glistened in the dark room as Jungkook gradually came down his high. He quietly cleared his throat and took a look at the mess he made of himself.

He carefully got rid of his boxers and wiped the remnants of his sperm off his skin with it, discarding it on the floor. He felt better now as he gazed down at you innocent and still sound asleep.

You shifted onto your back and your hand softly found its way on his chest, Jungkook gently cradled it with his, kissed your lips and eventually fell asleep. 

The first thing Taehyung felt when he woke up was your body pressed up against him. He blinked his eyes open, slowly turned his head and noticed that in your sleep you had left Jungkook’s side of the bed for his. He could not see your face with your head facing Jungkook but a smile naturally curved his lips at the sight of you so close to him.

He stretched his body and yawned silently before hovering over you. He brushed some of your hair to reveal your face. Your skin felt warm against his lips. He hugged your body for a while, breathing the fruity scent your shampoo left in your hair. Jungkook was also still asleep, his body facing yours.

Taehyung eventually got up to go wash himself. None of the two of you had moved when he came back. He stood still at the foot of the bed with his phone, checking his notifications. He went through all of them very quickly, the thought of you strong enough to pull him right back to you.

He put the device away and came closer to the bed, he was endeared by the sight of your stretched leg peeking out from under the covers, not long enough to reach the edge of the mattress. He lightly ran the tip of his finger along your sole, a small chuckle escaping him when your toes curled a little. He carefully climbed up and pulled the covers away from you. Staring at your naked legs, he mindlessly felt himself, reaching for his erect cock twitching after he had laid his eyes on the curve of your bare ass.

He slowly brushed the back of your legs up and down, softly kneading the skin of your thighs before ripping open the condom he has brought with him with his teeth. He gently leant forward and lay down on your back, careful not to put his entire weight on you. Snuggling himself into you, he could not help but thrust a little up against you when he finally felt your ass.

He nuzzled your hair and dipped his face in the crook of your neck,“mm’baby… Baby bear…”

You were not responding to his whispers. The slight scrape of his chin skimmed along your cheek, waking the sensitive stretch of skin with a prickly awareness.

You shifted a little beneath, he felt you desiring to turn around but did not let you, earning confused whimpers from you.

He kissed your face, “shhh little girl, daddy needs to have you now…”

“but i’m asweep-hmph-”

“That’s okay…” He spat on his fingers and got the tip wet before gripping his cock, blindly looking for your entrance, gasping a little when he felt it catching right on the edge. “Just, mhm... let daddy have what’s his…”

Tiny whimpers fell out your mouth as he slowly inched himself inside you, his girthy length splitting your lips open.

“Open up for me, come on... Let me in, come on take it all... Take all of my cock, yeah… Fuck, you’re so tight baby, oh shit-” He grunted above you, fitting himself entirely in. “God that feels nice...”

He tried to keep his voice the lowest possible not not to get caught by Jungkook but rather not to disturb his sleep. He did not really care about his friend catching him balls deep inside you.

You frowned, fingers curling around the sheets,“daddy-”

“I’m right here with you, baby.” Taehyung kept a slow and steady pace, pushing himself entirely in and tilting his hips back right before his tip could come out. You felt him struggling not to crush you under him,“I want you so bad I can hardly breathe.”

He dipped his head further down to pepper your face with wet, hot kisses, cursing underneath his breath. “Those little whines only make me want you more, princess...”

His deep, husky voice was a jolt of toe-curling heat to your senses. He pinned you with his weight, pressing his hard length against your sensitive walls. You gasped and arched a little against him helplessly.

“That’s it baby- huh, fuck… I wanna fuck you so hard… and so long…”

The wrestling of sheets, inevitable with all your writhing, ended up stirring Jungkook. His mind was foggy and he barely managed to open his eyes as he lightly stretched himself. Frowning a little, he shifted onto his front and rubbed one eye.

He tried to open them again, hearing your familiar whining voice and only then started to feel the subtle rocking of the mattress. His body went rigid when his sight had finally cleared, staring a little dazed at Taehyung curled over you leaving his doings little to no imagination despite not being able to see the two of you entirely.

He could hear Taehyung’s grunting, “fuck- You’re so wet… You’re really into this aren’t you… letting me having it- having you my own way, hm.”

Jungkook’s face started blushing and he automatically recalled last night where he had contemplated doing the exact same thing to you and get to make you moan just like you were and feel your body tensing beneath him.

You let out a stammered whimper after Taehyung drove his entire throbbing cock inside you, feeling that one big thick vein that ran the entire length of the shaft bulging out while he dragged his cock slowly along your velvet walls. He halted himself thrusting in solely the tip, letting his big ridge where the head meets the shaft tease the edge of your pussy.

You whined in desperation, trying to impale yourself back on him. He let out a low chuckle, his mouth curving against you and making that place deep in your heart ache with pleasure.

“Do you feel it, huh- do you feel it baby,” he susurrated in your ear. “Just teasing you with that tip right inside your pussy, hmm-” He began sliding in deep, “Fuck yes, take it deep... Come on,take it... Nice and deep...  uh- yeah- feel my pulsing cock, feel it fucking stretch you right open for me- God that’s good...”

Your moaning was heard in the entire room making Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s cocks twitch. “dadd-”

“Fuck, you’re trembling baby” Taehyung hissed. He easily twined his fingers around yours to hold your hand, comforting you.

He crushed you into the mattress. And feeling his weight putting pressure on your core had it clamping hard around him. The knot in your lower stomach slowly came undone, unlashing hot waves of pleasure shaking you from within as you reached your climax.

“I’m gonna fill that fucking little nasty pussy of yours…” Taehyung’s grip tightened around you and he kept thrusting inside you, using you to get himself off.

The veins in his neck bulged out; he could feel his cum moving through his shaft and eventually gushed out inside the condom while growling lowly, his chest hummed against your sweaty back as he pushed himself as deep as possible. Bucking his hips hard against your ass, he slowly rode his high out, kissing your flushed face.

Spent, his lazily withdrew his softening cock from your wet pussy making you mewl in oversensitivity. He tried to tie the condom quickly to get to cuddle you already. You let him make you face him so he could coddle you and cover your face with loving kisses.

You started giggling, the sweet sound of your voice coming out loud and clear.

“I think we woke up Jungkook,” Taehyung whispered to you with a mischievous grin.

You instantly turned your head around to look at him half hidden behind the covers. You pushed them away and revealed his shirtless torso. His long, messy hair covered his eyes but you could see him looking tiredly at you.

There was no use in pretending not having seen or heard the two of you yet he was careful not to meet Taehyung’s gaze.

Jungkook smiled faintly at you and slowly lifted his arm. Taehyung yawned out loud, mumbling something about getting some room service, and allowed you to crawl towards him, retrieving your blankie at the same time and snuggled yourself in his embrace.

Despite your body warmth, Jungkook felt a little cold.

next part : vii. “...daddy?”