#snail deserves a bite no kisses for him

[timmie15]

Kissaroos <3

Designs by @beth4short-blog (besides my 621)

[residenthughes]

no bark, just bite

pairing: leon kennedy x reader 

word count: 1.3k

tags/warnings: fluff, tad bit of nsfw? (not even, just *cough* sexual tension 😳), biting, no use of y/n, leon is just too handsome for his own good :( 

summary: there comes a point where words are just not enough. 

notes: RAHHHHH 🧟‍♀️ imagine being so overstimulated with how good leon looks in tiktok edits that you claim you want to bite him, only to end up writing this? 🧍🏾‍♀️ this was pretty self indulgent and i probably just rambled a bit in this but it's just funny really. leon deserves to know how feral you are for him, haha :)

also, I posted this fic on my ao3. would really appreciate any feedback you have on these fics or just wanted someone to talk to, my inbox is always open! :) 

 enjoy! <333

You don’t know what comes over you. The normalcy of your current situation mirrors that of any other day. Cosy pyjamas and fireplace lit. Toasty and comfy, you sit with your long-time boyfriend, Leon, after a long day of work. Bare back to you, he kicks off his shoes as he fills you in on the events of his day - nothing you haven’t heard before. However, for some reason, your usual calm mood is nowhere to be found. Jittery. That best explains how you’re feeling. You’re unsure how this has come into being. Sure, Leon was home just a little bit later than usual but you missed him. You really did miss him so much today. And as you watch him saunter around your room, figure encapsulated by the glow of the fireplace - hair tousled and eyes tired - you want nothing more but to kiss his worries away and melt into him.

Your head swarms with excess Leon, senses consumed by everything his presence brings. The soft hint of his cologne that lingers in the air, the low hang of his trousers around his hips that leave his blonde snail trail in full view, the outline of his muscles as he effortlessly manoeuvres around the room. You’re absolutely mesmerised by him (when are you not?), especially today. For no particular reason other than he was Leon Kennedy and deserved to be fawned over.

You would think this heightened state of infatuation would translate into kisses that you’d pepper against his face, lipstick stains smudged across the expanse of his skin. Or in the excitement you met his words with. This wasn’t the case, even when he sat down on the edge of your bed, back towards you as he busied himself with getting ready for bed. You moved behind him without thinking, thoughts in absolute disarray as you let him ramble, taken in by the sight of him.

He's beautiful. He's so so beautiful, in a way that pained you and filled you with glee all at once. Perhaps this was the first sign of the rage of your emotions, but as mentioned before, you don’t know what came over you. You were just with Leon, listening to him talk but more focused on the sight of him. He’s too pretty for words, too handsome to describe - you could just–

“Uhm?” Leon hums in confusion, forehead puckered. “I didn’t peg you as the biting type.”

You were at a loss for what to do. All your emotions raged through you like a hurricane, wrecking absolute havoc in your mind and heart that only knew one thing. Leon. Your feelings, devastating in nature, were building within you like a volcano just waiting to explode and you needed an outlet. But, again, you were at a loss - weren’t thinking straight, or at all really. So, in your drunken daze, your jaw unhinges, teeth burying in the supple skin of Leon’s shoulder, channelling your overstimulation in the strength of your bite.

Your eyes dart up to your boyfriend who doesn’t seem the least bit fazed. In fact, he gives you a simple smile, that charming smile that has you putty in his hands and you bite down even harder, cheeks flushed as excitement bundles in your chest.

“Easy, sweetheart,” he remarks, no trace of malice in his tone as he brings his other hand upwards, caressing the back of your head in an attempt to calm you down. Your jaw relaxes. “Wouldn’t wanna leave a mark now, would we?”

Your lips leave the warmth of his tanned skin, eyes scanning the area that blooms with ruby red, teeth marks rigid yet shallow. Despite Leon’s lax nature about what has just occurred, you can’t help but feel just a tad bit sheepish, heat migrating to the apple of your cheeks as you wipe away any spit that may have transferred onto his skin.

“I got a bit carried away there,” you mumble, eyes averting his gaze that lights fire against your skin. Amusement tugs at the corner of your lips, snicker bypassing your lips as you add, “This is what happens when you’re too fine for your own good.”

A chuckle of delight sounds from Leon and you finally direct your gaze from his skin to look at him. Bathed in the soft tangerine glow of the bedroom, shadows cast against the slopes of his handsome face, the smooth smile spread across his face igniting the flutter of butterflies that have permanently migrated into your stomach ever since you laid eyes on Leon. Their forever home, courtesy of the man himself.

“My own good, huh?” he simply echoes your statement, but your teeth are sinking into the flesh of your lips. It’s so silly, really silly actually. It’s been so long since your romantic feelings towards each other were out in the open, yet here you are, flustered over the smallest of things. Over him.

“Easy with that smile, Kennedy,” your threat is doused in absolute humour, but you can’t help but think about how much truth there is in what you say next. “Otherwise you’ll earn yourself another bite.”

There’s a beat of silence and in that quietness, you wonder if your threat sounded lame, if you seemed lame - after all, this was just another blatant show as to how much your world revolved around Leon, how much he consumed you and your thoughts. There was nothing you wanted more than him and he knew it. It was strange, being in such a vulnerable situation - baring yourself, unabashed and so truthful with your thoughts and feelings. But, Leon made it worth it. Worth the shame and anxiety. As you did him, he worshipped you, hanging onto every word you said as if it were a prayer. However subtle he may have seemed in terms of his affinity towards you, you knew. You knew in the linger of his stare, the warmth of his touch and the easiness at which love confession left his lips. You were his, and he was yours. Forever and always, as you’d say to each other.

There’s a sudden weight on the landscape of your thigh. A thumb grazes the expanse of your inner thigh, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You don’t even need to meet Leon’s eyes to be confronted with the heavy intimacy of the moment. You gulp, eyes flickering towards the source of the hand, to meet with sapphire eyes that dazzle with all the desire in the world.

Out of the blue - everything feels so claustrophobic, walls closing in and clothes unbearably tight. You blame it on the blaze of fire Leon kindles in the mere palms of his hands. He gives your thigh an abrupt squeeze, smile sleazy and eyes dark. It’s sickening how disgustingly taut the coil in your stomach is.

“Doesn’t sound like much of a threat if I enjoyed it.”

His eyes give it a go at staring into yours until you’d ultimately look away, but he’s distracted. His eyes flicker down to your lips, eyes drinking up every hue and wrinkle of them as his hand shuffles upwards.

You heave, body burning like a furnace, to which you’re sure Leon can tell as well. After all, the smirk that settles amongst his features is a dead giveaway.

Your hand finds refuge against the back of his head, fingers threading through the soft dirty blond strands as your eyes take in everything before you. Every emotion you feel towards Leon comes at you in full force, unyielding and terrifying. The thump of your heart rings in your ear and you’re at a loss for words. How did we end up here? Where is this going? So many thoughts are racing through your head, but you only manage to utter one.

“Kiss me.” 

Brittle and pleading. Your voice carries an honesty that sends shivers down Leon’s spine. You watch as his pupils dilate, hands firm as he draws you closer into his web of desire.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.”

[buckybuckyboo]

The guy from the bar

Summary: You go for a drink after work and didn’t expect some company.

A/N: I don’t want any of my work posted anywhere else or translated without my permission. All mistakes are my own.

Word count: 2,212

Warnings: MINOIRS DNI. Unprotected sex. Dom Bucky (kinda). Alcohol.

Time at work seemed to be moving slower than a snail. You were definitely going to the bar for a well-deserved drink. Grabbing your stuff and clocking out, you headed towards the bar down the street from work. You had been there a couple of times, it was a nice place. Going inside, taking a seat at the bar, and ordering one of those fancy cocktails. You notice a guy sitting at the other side of the bar. He was very good-looking. His eyes met yours, and you turned quickly, embarrassed being caught looking at him. You finished your cocktail and another landed in front of you. "I didn't order another one" talking to the barman "This is from Bucky, he would like you to join him" The barman smiled and went back to cleaning glasses. Grabbing the drink, you headed over to the other side of the bar where Bucky was sitting.

Sitting down on the bar stool smiling at him. "Thank you for the drink, you didn't have to" "Oh, you're welcome doll. What's a pretty lady like you doing here all alone?" "Rough day at work, needed something to take the edge off" He smirks at you. "Would you like something else to take the edge off?" "I don't do drugs Bucky" He laughs. "No not drugs but how about a couple of orgasms?" You almost choke on your drink. "What do you say doll?" He stands moving closer to you to whisper in your ear "I can make you feel so good you'll forget about all your worries" He can hear your breath hitching in your throat. He places his fingertips on your shoulder and lightly brings them down along your arm leaving goosebumps. "What do you say sweetheart?" looking into his eyes you nod. "Need words, baby"

"Yes Bucky" "Good girl" He takes you by the hand leading you out of the bar "So um, where are we going? Your place?" He chuckles softly "I don't think my wife would be happy about me bringing another woman home. Is your place close?" "No, but my husband wouldn't like to see you with me" "He not giving you enough loving baby?" "Loving? Yes, but I want the kind of sex that leaves marks that I can admire later and I think he's too soft. What about your wife?" "This isn't about me baby. I just wanna make you feel good" He smiles while opening the door of the hotel for you to walk in. Both of you headed into the elevator and he presses the button for his floor. "If I didn't know better Bucky I'd say you had this planned tonight." He walks over to you and places his hands on your hips, your lips almost touching "Do you pick up women from the bar all the time?"

"No, that's my first time in that bar and when I saw you, I knew I just had to have you" Your lips crash against his in a heated kiss. He pushes you up against the mirror in the lift. His hands groping your ass. His tongue intrudes your mouth. The elevator ding brings you both back to earth, you fix your clothes and walk out following Bucky to his room. He opens the door using his card and holds it open for you to walk in. As soon as the door closed he was on you again. Wrapping your arms around his neck kissing him passionately. His hands squeeze your ass. He walks you to the edge of the bed "Sit pretty girl" You smile and sit on the edge of the bed and he drops to his knees.

He slowly lifts your dress exposing your thighs. Starting with your right thigh, he leaves wet kisses all along the inside and gently bites. As he gets higher he sucks on the skin, sure to leave marks then he moves over to the left one. His hands run up your thighs and he hooks his fingers around your panties and slowly slips them off. Placing his hand on your chest he pushes you back onto the bed. You were surprised by it. He hooked your legs over his shoulders and used his fingers to spread your pussy open. "Oh baby, all this for me?" "Yes Bucky, I'm all wet for you" Bucky couldn't help smiling. He flattened his tongue against your pussy and slowly drags it up making your body jerk. His tongue dipped into your hole as he opens your pussy more with his fingers. He was like a man starved and this was his meal.

He loved how you taste, it's better than anything he's ever had. He moves his mouth up to your clit sucking softly on it making you lean up on your elbows to look down at him through hooded eyes. Your hand ran through his hair "Oh fuck that feels so fucking good!". Your hips start to move against his mouth and he opens his eyes looking straight at you as he keeps sucking on your clit. The eye contact makes your body tingle as you get closer to your climax. Bucky starts moaning while still sucking on your clit sending vibrations through your body making your orgasm wash over you. Bucky's hands are placed on both your thighs keeping your legs open as he laps up all of your juices from your orgasm. Once you've come back down your pussy feels too sensitive for his tongue and you try to push him away. He stands and starts to unbutton his jeans.

"You gonna fuck me now Bucky?" "No sweetheart, you're gonna suck my cock" "Oh really? Why am I gonna do that?" He grabs you by your neck pulling you to sit up in front of him, his cock in your face but he bends down to look into your eyes. "You are gonna suck my cock because you didn't ask permission to cum" He stands back up straight, His thumb on your chin opening your mouth. Leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his swollen head, he takes a deep breath when feeling your lips on him. His hand is placed on the back of your head, fisting your hair holding your in place as he rocks his hips back and forth. "Just like that baby girl, a little deeper. That's it oh fuck!" You love the noises he's making. It makes you place your hands on his hips sucking harder and taking him as deep as you can.

Bucky pulls you off his cock, letting you take a deep breath. He looks down at you, your face all tear-stained and drool dripping down your chin. "Messy girl" He pushes you back on the bed "Come on, get that pretty ass in the air baby" Bucky starts to remove his clothes as he watches you turn on the bed. Your chest against the mattress and your ass in the air just like he asked. He sees your pussy glistening from your orgasm. "Spread your legs a little wider". You open your legs a little. "Wider," He says louder making you jump a little and you do as you're told, opening your legs wider. Bucky walks to the edge of the bed grabbing your ass with both hands. He leans down kissing your ass cheeks and even biting one making you giggle "Oh, you like that do you, sweetie?". He raises his hand and smacks your ass and then rubs the area.

It makes you jump and hiss at the sudden smack. He smacks your ass a few more times on each cheek making them red then he finally climbs onto the bed. The length of his cock rubbing through your pussy getting it wet from your arousal. "You ready to take this cock princess?" "Yeah" He smacks your ass making you jump again "You answer yes sir. Now, are you ready for my cock?" There was a pause, then you spoke "Yes sir" "Good girl" he smiles as he rubs his tip along your pussy and slowly pushes in. You were overwhelmed by the pleasure of his cock filling you. He pushes his cock fully inside and stays still for a moment letting you adjust to his size. His cock hits a new spot in this position, almost making you cum again. Bucky slowly pulls out and snaps his hips back against you shoving his cock deeper.

You couldn't help moaning, it feels so good deep inside you "Oh it's so fucking deep! It feels so good!" "Don't you dare think about cuming again without permission!". Placing his hands on your hips as he slowly moves in and out of you. "If you were my wife, I'd keep you tied up in this position so that you would be ready for me whenever I wanted you". You moan in response at the thought of it, or maybe it was the way he was pounding into you. "Oh you like that do you? Already thinking about it? Naughty gitl, what would your husband say?". You lean up on your knees, your back to his chest, and whisper "He's not here" Then kiss him. Bucky's hands sneak around your hips holding you in place as he slowly drags his cock in and out of you while you kiss. His hands move up your body massaging your breasts and then one hand wrapping around your throat and applying some pressure.

"Harder, please fuck me harder!" You beg between moans. His thrusts become harder and hearing him grunt in your ear turns you on even more. "Oh my fucking god! I'm gonna cum!" He stops his movements, shoving his cock deep inside you. You feel your climax going away and start to move your hips against his/ He grabs your hips stopping you from moving and applies more pressure on your throat/ "Ah ah, sweetheart. You cum when I say so" "Please! I was so close!" He chuckles softly at your begging, pushing you down on the bed. laying on your back looking up at him and biting your bottom lip as your hand drifts down your body to your pussy, rubbing on your clit. He smirks grabbing your hand and pinning it above your head. "You just won't do what you're told, will you" He smiles down at you and you smile back shaking your head saying no. Bucky takes off the rest of your clothes and kisses all over your neck and chest.

Trying to push his head down between your legs. You just needed to cum but he was taking his time and it was driving you crazy. "Easy baby girl, you don't want this night to be over yet, do you?" "No, but I just need to cum!" "I promise you, you will cum" He smiles leaning up kissing you, and feeling the tip of his cock at your entrence making you moan into his mouth. "Please Bucky" Looking into your eyes and slowly pushes back inside you. "Your pussy fits me so fucking well baby. Feels so good deep inside you" "I want you to pound me Bucky" "Safe word?" You think for a moment and smile "Pickles". He laughs softly, kissing you and slowly starting to move his hips. His hand holds onto your hip, holding you in place as he thrusts get faster and harder.

The noise of skin slapping skin fills the room along with both of your moans. Wrapping your legs around his waist. His cock hits your sweet spot over and over again. "Yes! Yes! Right there please don't stop!" "You wanna cum all over my cock baby? Squeezing me so fucking tight!" "Yes! Please can I cum? Please?" "That depends doll, do you want me to fill you up? Send you home to your husband full of my cum? Having my baby?" You hesitate for a moment then look into his eyes smiling. "Fill me up baby, send me home pregnant with your child" He moans kissing you hard. "Cum with me baby, milk my cock for all it's got". Both of you moan as you both reach your climax. The room filled with quick breaths and moans. It felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest.

Once you both had calmed down, quiet giggles and exchanging kisses. Bucky pulled out and watched as his seed started to drip out of you. He uses his finger to push it back in "What are you doing?" "You can't waste a drop, need to get you pregnant remember". He moves back up your body kissing you softly. You look deep into his eyes and smile "Happy anniversary my love. I'm glad you liked the idea. One question though" You look at him worried. "Your safe word is pickles?" Both of you burst out laughing "I'm sorry, it was the first thing that came to mind" Bucky laughs and kisses your forehead. "I love you, sweetheart. Hopefully, in a few weeks you might have some news for me" He smiles placing his hand on your stomach. "Me too baby, but if not, we can keep trying" Bucky pulls the covers over both of you and you soon fall asleep in each other's arms.

@animnerd​

[cyberrose2001]

Kinktober: Day 5

Prompt: Fingering

TFP Breakdown x gn afab reader

Warnings: Fingering, cunnilingus, slight overstimulation, masturbation.

Word count: 621

“Just look at ya, all ready for me,” Breakdown chuckles darkly before climbing onto the berth, “You couldn’t even wait until I got back.”

You whine from the berth; thighs spread as far as they can. The evidence of your impatience coated your fingers and dripped from your cunt onto the sheets below, sweat beaded on your forehead from your efforts to try and cum. You were so worked up from being alone all day while Breakdown went on assignment you couldn’t help but try to relieve yourself, but no amount of imagination and fingers can equate to the feeling of your lover pounding his metallic cock into you.

Breakdown gives you a smug grin before grasping your overworked hand, bringing it up into his intake and proceeds to wrap his dermas around it, licking and sucking up all of your juices. He removes them with one drawn-out lick from his glossa, “Mmmm, you haven’t overloaded yet. I guess I can help ya out.”

“P-Please…” You moan softly, which Breakdown chuckles at. But he doesn’t flip you over and push your head face down like he usually does. Instead, he lays down near your spread legs, servos resting on your inner thighs.

“Don’t worry, sweet spark. I’ll pound your pretty valve soon,” He coos, bringing a digit up to circle your clit softly, “I’m sure you can keep being patient for me, yeah?”

“Mhmm,” You nod, desperate for any kind of orgasm at this point.

Breakdown hums, kissing the inside of your thigh as he works his cold digit up and down your folds, “You like that?” He teases, moving back up to your clit to rub slow circles around it, making your hips jump, “I bet you’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this all day, huh?”

Your breath hitches as he builds up pressure and speed, back arching as he brings you to the edge of orgasm. You can feel his hot breath against your heat before he glides his digit down to press into your wet hole and latches his lips around your clit at the same time.

“Oh, fuck, Breakdown!” You throw your head back as he curls his digit against your g-spot, slowly yet steadily rhythmic. It’s not as thick as his spike, but even with his digit, he fills you completely.

“Frag, you’re tight,” Breakdown rumbles against your sensitive clit, glossa flicking against it as he adjusts his wrists to achieve a better angle against your fluttering walls, “Can’t wait ‘til I’m inside you.”

The wet slapping noises from the thrusting of his servo to the sound of him lapping at your clit, it’s all sinful and bringing you closer to the edge.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna-“ You slap a hand over your mouth as your hips gain a mind of their own, grinding against his glossa and the digit now pounding into you with reckless abandon.

“Gonna overload?” Breakdown groans, his hips grinding against the berth, “C’mon, you deserve this.”

With tears in your eyes and teeth biting the cheek of your hand, you squeal as Breakdown curls against your g-spot and sucks on your clit with so much force that you almost go blind. You arch your back as he slows down to a snail's pace, limbs jerking and thighs shaking.

Breakdown laughs teasingly, removing his digit to watch your cum dribble onto the berth. He kisses your abused hole before sitting up and pulling your hips closer to his. His spike is already exposed, and it's the most enticing thing you’ve seen all day; you can’t help but whine at the throbbing sight.

Breakdown easily flips you over, propping your legs up and pushing your head against your pillow, “You up for round two?”

[idv-sunsxin3]

Aah hello! I was wondering if we can get some soft headcanons of some of your favorite male survivors with a physically affectionate s/o! (I just wanna give all of them a hug and see them happy 🥺💕)

Pins// Omg- Sure, of course! QuQ💕💕💕

Some fluffy HCs for some Male Survivors with Affectionate! S/O

Header of Moonlit River Park from Identity V Official Game

{Headcanons/Scenarios}

Gender Neutral! S/O

Note: too many favorites, I'm just going to put 5 only- :’DD

___

Aesop… He doesn’t know what to do when you hug him at some random moments with that happy smile-

It makes him stop functioning for a while,,,

He would slowly crouch and shrink into a ball like a turtle shell as he lets you hold him.

It may seem too much for him- but deep inside, he’s loving the affection he used to longed for when he was a child.

He loves it when you place his head in your lap as you whisper lovely things about him while stroking his loose hair.

He often studies your beautiful face despite of the upside-down angle.

If you like playing with a person’s fingers, Aesop won’t stop you-

Call him ‘Isopo’ or other baby names with a cute voice and he’s done-

He will die for you, but also wants to die together with you-

Aesop// I only dated Y/N for 5 years…

Aesop// …But if anything happens to them, I’ll kill everyone in this room and then myself-

Y/N // Wait, no, don’t die- QAQ

———

Edgar’s ego boosts when you give him attention-

He would tell you to stop sitting on his lap when you both are waiting for a match to begin, but he’s notably enjoying the moment-

When he feels down, he won’t say that to you-

Instead, he wraps his arms around your waist and bury his face on the back of your neck- giving you the affection in return.

You once told Edgar to have his palm out, he questioned it but ended up doing so-

You then placed your chin on his palm and looked at him with the owo eyes…

After few seconds of realizing what you’ve been planning, he-

Hehehe~

He can’t concentrate with his portrait when you’re in the same room as him,,,

You would stick yourself against him like a ‘snail’, according to what he commented before-

He can’t stop making his paintbrush tremble, as his face turns into a tomato once you try to sneak some kisses on his back-

Edgar// S-Stop distracting me, you idiot-! ù///ú

Y/N // Give me a kiss… uwu ❤️

Edgar// …

Edgar// *kisses your lips*

Y/N // Thank you, baby. UvU💕

(You hugged once more and started to walk out of the room, leaving a red tomato painter-)

Edgar// ….

Edgar// I’m not baby…- Ù///Ú

———

Eli gets a warm feeling when you lean his head on his chest, feeling your hair tickle his neck-

He would look away as he cries silently-

There are times he feels like he doesn’t deserve you ;-;

When he feels like he has the strength and energy, he would carry you and spin you in the air as he laughs happily with you,,,

You’re just so precious, oh my god- 😭

He will try to give you affection as well to be fair with you- you deserve love as well,,, 🥺

Y/N // 20/7 cuddle is a must! >:0c

Eli// Why is it not 24/7?

Y/N // Because we need 4 hours of eating yummy food together…? :0c

Eli//

Eli// Gosh, you’re too cute for this world- 🤧🥺✨

———

Before departing for a match, Luca would wear a goofy smile as you attack his face with long smooches-

He will start missing your kisses after a few minutes of your absence. :’3

When a fellow survivor notices that Luca is beginning to lose his composure, the first person they would seek for help is you-

Your presence and your affection makes him feel relieved and much calmer,,,,

Luka is a big dork, but he’s just as affectionate as you. ❤️

He would playfully bite or nibble your cheeks as if you’re human-sized food-

But then places a kiss as an apology if you don’t like it at all,,, 🥺

Luca// You’re so sweet, I can just put you in my coffee-

Luca// If only you can fit in my mug… :’D

Y/N //

Y/N // That was awful- 🤣

Luca// I know. 😉

Y/N // I love you,,, 🥺❤️

Luca// I love you too, Y/N. 😚💙

———

Victor would notice the flower effect when looking at you as you embrace him from behind-

He melts when you rub his knuckles lovingly once you see that his hands are slightly sore from writing a lot-

If you like to write poems and love letters, he’s going to get a heart attack once you kiss him as you recite one of your love phrases between the kisses-

If you stare at him lovingly for a long time as you two lay in the same bed and cuddle, Victor would turn into a strawberry and attempts to hide from you a little bit by placing wick between your faces- But it was never effective,,,, úwù

He would often try to hide his face with his hat-

Y/N // Victor, you can’t just cover the sun with one thumb… hehehe! nwn

Victor// (*I-I know…*)

Victor// (*B- But it’s hard to stop looking at you when you’re being adorable…- ú///ù*)

SPAMS ‘KISS’ BUTTOM REPEATEDLY-

Grab this man gently and kiss him good, he won’t tell you to stop because he longs for your kisses,,, qwq

[fruitcoops]

could you PLEASE write the fic where coops break the bed bc I would love to read how that went down

I'd love to! This is a reference to part three of this fic, and the prompt was combined with asks for another jealous Sirius and seeing Remus in his game day suit for the first time. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut (including blowjobs)

The lock slid home and Sirius’ knees hit the floor.

“Wh—okay,” Remus laughed as Sirius fumbled his belt open and yanked the zipper of his dress pants—fucking dress pants, is he trying to kill me?—as far as it could go without ripping straight down the middle. Slender fingers combed through his hair; some of the shock must have worn off, because he could feel a growing bulge under his cheek as he nuzzled the dip of Remus’ hipbone.

“Nobody looks at you like I do,” he said, licking a broad stripe up the front of Remus’ boxers. They were the nice kind, soft and tight—he wanted to tear them off.

Remus, for his part, looked both baffled and quite happy. “No, they do not,” he agreed, giving the back of Sirius’ hair a light tug. “And nobody looks as good as you down there.”

“You’re goddamn right they don’t.” Without further ado, Sirius pulled his dick out of his boxers and did his best to inhale it.

“Jesus fucking—” Remus’ hand slammed into the wall with a sharp gasp. His knee buckled, but Sirius gripped his thigh and pushed it against the wall. “Holy shit, baby, give me some warning.”

Sirius leaned back and let the tip slide out through his lips for just a moment, reveling in the slackjawed awe on Remus’ face. “No.”

“What did I do to deserve this?” Remus’ voice cracked as he thudded his head back against the wall and began lightly rolling his hips per Sirius’ request, huffing each time Sirius tightened his hold on his ass.

“Game suit,” Sirius managed as he slid off to bite the hollow between Remus’ hip and thigh, drawing a whimper from him. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, shouting mine, mine, mine with each pulse. “Game suit and those fucking fans.”

Remus’ chest heaved as he took him all the way to the base again, holding Sirius by the hair the way that always sent lightning down his spine. He spread his knees slightly on the floor and palmed himself through his pants without breaking pace. “Are you—ah—are you upset or happy? ‘cause this is great and I’m not complaining but—oh holy fuck.”

Warm, slightly sweaty palms shoved him away by the forehead. Sirius made a noise of protest that turned into a grumble when his mouth was finally empty, and he batted Remus’ hands away. “What?”

“Two seconds.” Remus’ pupils were dilated so far they almost hid the pretty amber that turned dark with lust. “You look so good down there, baby, but I’m gonna come and I’m really confused why.”

“I want to make you come,” Sirius explained, moving back towards him only to be guided away again. Obviously. “Remus!”

“What is the occasion?” he asked, a little desperate. “What did I do?”

Sirius sat back on his heels with an irritated exhale and held up three fingers. “You, in general. Game suit. Fans. May I please finish what I was doing.”

If possible, Remus looked even more lost. “The fans? What about the fans? Why do they entail an amazing blowjob?”

“Because.” Sirius pulled his pants down enough to suck a mark on the thickest muscle of Remus’ thigh. He was salty and sweet and perfect. “Because they were looking at you like they wanted to eat you, and that’s my job.”

“I—” Remus opened and closed his mouth twice, then leaned back against the wall with an aborted muss of his hair. “Yeah, okay. I kind of want to get you off too, though, ‘cause you look like sin on legs in that blazer and I would hate to waste it.”

Sirius Black, why did you commit yourself to someone so selfless. He took his mouth off the underside of Remus’ dick and hauled himself to his feet, wincing at the protests of his plane-tired muscles. “Then we’d better get upstairs.”

“Upstairs? But—” Remus’ eyes widened and a slow smile spread over his face and he pulled his pants back up. “Yeah, yeah, okay, yes, right now.”

“Right now,” Sirius confirmed, taking him by the wrist to hustle them both up to their bedroom. He gave Remus’ ass a solid smack before scooting around him to flop backward on the bed, tangling their legs together until he could wrap himself around Remus and kiss him like he deserved. Hard and sloppy and so dizzying Sirius had to catch his breath when they broke apart. “Now.”

“Huh?” Remus coughed, still ruffled and red-lipped.

Sirius took his face between his hands and felt Remus go weak on top of him. “Fuck me. Right now. I’m yours, and you’re mine, and you don’t do this with any of those people undressing you with their eyes today.”

I’m the one that’s going to be walking funny tomorrow, Sirius reminded himself as he expertly unbuttoned Remus’ shirt and shoved both that and the navy jacket off his golden shoulders. Not the moon-eyed women twirling their hair, not the chiseled men with their fucking smirks, not the people in the comments marveling at that pretty face. Me. Mine.

Remus made a funny sort of whimpering noise as he pushed Sirius’ shirt open and attached himself to his neck, biting and licking in equal measure as Sirius divested them both of their pants. He leaned back to catch his breath, but Sirius reeled him back in by the blue tie still around his neck and tangled his fingers in Remus’ tawny curls, crushing them together while he pushed his hips up for any friction and basked in Remus’ moans. Mine. Yours.

“Lube,” Remus said against his mouth, breathless. The temperature of the room had to be a hundred degrees, Sirius was sure of it; they were both sweating already, but he couldn’t let go of Remus for more than a second at a time. He needed the contact. Needed the feeling of drowning in his touch.

“Mine,” he said, nipping Remus’ bottom lip before letting him go enough that he could reach the nightstand.

“Yours,” Remus promised. He kept one hand splayed over the side of Sirius’ neck as they kissed; the other popped the cap off the lube and hoisted Sirius’ leg further to the side. “Ready?”

“Go.”

He threw his head back when two—two!—slick fingers pressed against him, opening him at the wonderful intersection between a snail’s pace and an uncomfortable sting. Remus moved his free hand down to hold Sirius’ hip; his weight pressed him into the mattress, and Sirius was sure that he would burn up at any moment.

“Yes,” he hissed through clenched teeth when Remus’ fingers found his prostate. His ears began to buzz as Remus rubbed the pads of his fingers over it in relentless circles, not pushing, just giving him enough friction to go mad with it.

Teeth skimmed his collarbone and Sirius shivered when wet lips trailed over his nipple. “Get on your stomach.”

“Wanna see you.”

“Sirius.” Remus’ hand wasn’t damp when he curled it around Sirius’ jaw and guided him to meet his eyes. “On your damn stomach.”

Sirius was not proud of the half-breath sound that escaped him, but he wasn’t ashamed either. He got on his damn stomach, and he did it with a smile. “What now?”

“Hold the headboard.”

He obliged and felt Remus run a hand down the curve of his spine before sliding two fingers back into him. Sirius arched, grinning at the waves of pleasure rolling through his stomach. “We don’t have games for two days,” he said, flipping his hair back to look at Remus over his shoulder.

Amber eyes roved up and down his body with an appreciative gleam before Remus pressed a kiss to the small of his back. “I know. Hold on, baby.”

A shiver ran through Sirius’ limbs; he flexed his fingers on the wood of the headboard and sighed when something much more blunt than a few fingers pushed inside him in a slow, continuous motion. “Tabarnak,” he muttered, mouth agape as Remus found his seat and pushed down even harder on his lower back. His spine was going to ache in the morning, and he didn’t care a bit.

“Why were you upset about the fans?” he asked with a slow roll of his hips that left Sirius shuddering. “You know I don’t pay attention to that.”

“Comment section,” he panted, gritting his teeth against a loud moan. “And I could hear them when you walked by.”

“What were they saying?”

“Everything.” Sirius’ thighs trembled on the hard thrust that followed. “Everything, everything—how good you looked. That suit, Remus, I can’t handle it.”

A beat of silence passed, save for the creaking of the bed beneath them. “Say it again.”

“You looked—”

“Not that,” Remus interrupted, sliding his hands along Sirius’ sides and back down his thighs. “You want me to be yours? Then say my name.”

“Remus,” he breathed.

“What was that?”

“Remus,” he repeated, a little louder. It came out as a whine and Remus bent down to bite the junction of his shoulder as he gripped the headboard with white knuckles.

“Again.”

The word was punctuated by a yank on Sirius’ hips paired with a thrust that sparked fireworks in his eyes. “Remus!” he almost shouted, half in shock.

“Atta boy.” Strong arms wound around his abdomen, pulling him impossibly closer to Remus’ front as he rocked in and out and stole Sirius’ breath from his lungs. Feather-soft lips traced from one shoulder to the middle of his back, leaving open-mouthed kisses in their wake that were cold against the flames in Sirius’ gut. His arms were already shaking.

“Remus,” he begged, though he didn’t even know what to ask for. He was so hard it almost hurt—spreading his exhausted knees to try and sink down onto the mattress did absolutely nothing to help him. “Remus.”

“No,” Remus ordered when he tried to take one hand off the headboard and stroke himself to relieve the pressure. Sirius let out something akin to a sob despite the distilled joy and pleasure running riot through him. “Headboard. Now.”

“I am.”

Remus’ breath was hot against his ear. “Don’t get bratty with me.”

Sirius had never come untouched before, but he wondered if it felt like this. Unfortunately, he was still painfully close to the edge and Remus insisted on dragging over his sweet spot every—fucking—time, so he was stuck in a horribly fantastic limbo that bent every cell to Remus’ will.

It was exactly what he had been after from the second the front door locked behind them.

“Come on, baby.” Remus made a low sound in his throat as Sirius clamped down around him at the nickname and upped his pace by a degree. “Come on, you can do it.”

“Quoi—what d’you want?” Sirius asked, dropping his chin to his chest with a moan.

Fingers wound into his hair and pulled his head up again, gentle but unyielding. There was never any pain when Remus was in charge, only the feeling of being entirely encompassed. It didn’t matter what position they were in—Sirius could be on the bottom, top, sideways, anywhere, and still feel cared for in every aspect.

“Fucking love you,” he mumbled, voice breaking as Remus’ hand slid through his hair to trail along his neck and wind around his chest.

He could feel the smile pressing into his shoulder blade as Remus left a mark there between world-shattering rolls of his hips. “Love you, too. You know you can come whenever, right?”

“Touch me.”

“Tell me three things and I will,” Remus all but purred into the arch of his neck. Sirius nodded frantically. “What color was I wearing today?”

“Blue,” he managed through clumsy lips. “Dark blue, ‘s perfect on you, oh.”

“Two: how many times have I worn that suit?”

Sirius stifled a moan in the crook of his elbow. “Once.”

“Last question.” Remus licked the salt from the crest of his shoulder and Sirius’ vision went for a moment; he gripped the headboard like it was his only anchor on earth. “Who is the only person in the world I will ever love like this?”

“Oh, fuck, me.”

A palm, broad and callused, wrapped around his shaft and gathered the precome that had been dripping onto the sheets for a glide so smooth Sirius thought he was dreaming. Then the world caught up to him at light speed and he was gone, tumbling over the edge with a shout and throwing his weight forward while Remus guided him through every ripple down his back as he reached his own peak.

Crack—crunch.

Sirius yelped as his knuckles hit the wall, pulling back on instinct despite the fact that he had nowhere to go but down. Remus cursed into his shoulder and they hit the pillows in a mess of limbs and sweat; Sirius pulled his hands to his chest as the smarting pain began to fade. “Ow,” he said, bewildered and pitiful.

“Oh, oh, oh.” Remus pulled out with a slight wince and carefully took his hands, pressing kisses over the reddened skin before horror overtook his face. “Did I—was that sound your hands?”

“No,” Sirius said quickly, kissing his flushed cheek. “It wasn’t me. I think…”

Remus blinked at him. “Did we…”

“That was the headboard.” A smile tugged the edges of his mouth until Sirius gave in and began to laugh, shifting back onto his stomach for a proper look. Sure enough, the wooden board at the top of their bed was both sideways and several inches further down the wall than it had been when they started their venture.

“Oh my god,” Remus spluttered, still laughing as he tried to pull it back into the right spot. “Jesus, this thing is heavy.”

“We broke the bed,” Sirius snickered. It was so beyond unbelievable that he couldn’t help it. “After all this time, it finally gave in. Mon dieu. I can’t…I don’t even know where to start.”

“We broke the headboard,” Remus corrected with a grin. “Well, you broke it.”

“If you try to pin this all on me—”

“I had you pinned pretty well a minute—”

“Remus John Lupin—”

They dissolved into laughter, bordering on hysteria as they fell back onto the sheets. The headboard groaned at the impact, setting off a whole new round with no hope of letting them catch their breath.

“So,” Remus managed once his lungs were functioning again. He quirked an eyebrow at Sirius with a troublemaker’s smirk. “The suit?”

“The suit,” Sirius huffed, shaking his head. “I thought I was going to die.”

“Now you know how I feel all the friggin’ time.”

He sighed through his nose and stared upside-down at the cracked wood. “We’ll need to replace that.”

“Mhmm. And never tell the guys about it, ever.”

Sirius ran a hand down his face. “They’d bring it up at our funerals.”

“Is there a way to get just the headboard? Do we need to buy a whole new frame?”

His jaw crackled as he yawned, wrapping both arms around Remus to drag him over for a snuggle. “Those questions can wait until tomorrow. Or at least after a nap.”

“How about a shower and a nap?”

“Definitely a shower,” Sirius agreed, burying his face in the bend of Remus’ neck. “After a nap.”

“Come on, cuddlebug,” Remus groaned, giving him a halfhearted pull. “You hate the feeling of cum on your legs.”

“I just broke a plank of wood with my bare hands,” Sirius mumbled into his soft skin. “I can handle a few extra minutes of cuddles.”

[americxn]

Backstage (Jimmy Darling x fem!reader)

wordcount: 1.2k warnings: NSFW, fingering, public setting, swearing

(reader is a contortionist working for Elsa btw, I almost forgot to clarify and then this wouldn’t have made any sense)

You watched as Jimmy folded into a deep bow, his beam of gratification almost as bright as the stage lights spilling their light onto him as he soaked up the enthusiastic cheering and elated whistling of the crowd. It never failed to bring a smile to your own face, watching Jimmy receive the boundless appreciation that he deserved. He gave a final ardent wave before exiting the stage, striding straight for where you lingered in the wings and taking you in his arms. “Amazing. As usual.” You gushed, taking his face in your hands, his skin damp and flushed beneath your palms with the light sheen of swear that coated him, and bringing your lips to his.

Elsa pushed past your joined bodies, stepping out onto the stage to take Jimmy’s place, holding her arms out with a self-approving flourish. Tearing your mouth from his, you grinned, Jimmy catching you off guard when he lurched forwards to reconnect his lips to yours and immediately running his tongue across your lower lip, the persistent intent stark in his motion taking you by surprise. Elsa was talking pleasantly to the crowd at Jimmy’s back, her voice as clamorous and assertive as ever, as his hands snaked down the length of your partly exposed back to settle on your hips. He began to slowly lead you backwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he manoeuvered your connected bodies around the back of the stage. You withdrew your lips from his when your back was pressed against the cool makeshift wall at the back of the tent, Jimmy’s hips pinioning your own against it.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a whisper as Elsa had the crowd transfixed on her in utter silence. He pinned you beneath his stare, a slow smile curving the corners of his lips.  “You still have five minutes before you need to be on stage.” He breathed back in answer, his fingers dropping to the buttons at your crotch that held the very sparing leotard you wore in place, the skimpy swathes of material tight against your skin. “Are you really so confident?” The responding look he offered you was answer enough, your hands coming to hook around his neck, allowing Jimmy to bend and hook his large hand around the back of your knee before hoisting it up. You completed the movement for him by stretching the leg fully, extending it in a strong line up to the ceiling. Jimmy pushed even closer to your body, pinning the leg between your bodies.

Your toes flexed in the air as his hand returned to the opening he had made, his tongue tracing the length of his lower lip as he reached right for your cunt, all tension fleeing from your muscles as you relaxed into him, his fingers immediately delving between your folds to gather the wetness that his self-assured essence had drawn from you. He looked right at you when he eased his fingers into you, watching in satisfaction when your eyes fluttered closed, presenting him with the underside of your jaw when you tilted your head back to rest against the wall. He twisted his fingers expertly inside of you before slowly withdrawing them to the tips, Jimmy leaning in to kiss and nip at the flesh at the exposed column of your throat as he began to move his fingers in and out at a steady, slightly overwhelming pace.

Reaching out to grip onto his shoulders, the supple muscles roping through your thigh and calf already beginning to quiver with the harsh angle that they were forced to maintain, a low groan worked its way from the back of your throat, Jimmy’s fingers working you with fervently as the tips of his fingers curled to hit the spot within you that seemed to send shock waves throughout your entire body with each stroke of his rough fingertips against it.

A quiet moan passed through your lips as he begin to thrust his fingers with more vigour within you, seemingly reaching deeper than you even thought was possible as if he were desperate to draw your orgasm from you. Which, given your strict time constraints, you supposed he was. The heat within the pit of your stomach was fuelled with each stroke of his fingers and soon your legs were fully trembling, the toes you had extended in the air curling. Jimmy whispered low encouragements into your ear, not at all concerned about the several other show members watching Elsa’s acts from the wings, mere feet away. You bit down on his shoulder, Jimmy’s head tilting to attach his lips to the sweet spot of tender skin just beneath your ear, the pleasure his fingers drew from you both too much and not enough.

Your slick walls were as familiar to Jimmy as the planes of your face and so it didn’t take much effort on his behalf to have your release building within the pits of your abdomen, allowing him to enjoy the contorting of your face, the small noises of gratification and the slight quivering of your body as he worked you closer and closer, Elsa beginning her parting speech from the stage at his back. You didn’t spare so much as an ounce of attention to your surroundings, your head falling back onto the surface of the wall as Jimmy drove his fingers deeper, faster, pushing you closer and closer to climax. 

When he felt you clenching around him, he brought his lips to the side of your neck, licking a slow stripe up your skin before latching his teeth onto the soft shell of your ear and biting down sharply. The slight pain pushed you over the edge and you came undone in his arms, your back arching in such a way that forced your hips to press further against his, the hold on your extended leg faltering and dropping, your knee bending as it hooked over his shoulder, the tendons in your neck prominent when your head was thrown further against the wall.

His tongue traced over the small hurt he had inflicted with his teeth, his fingers stilling their relentless thrusting to move within you instead, curling at the perfect angle and coaxing every last drop of cum from you before pulling out entirely.

The roaring of the cheering crowd pulled you back to your senses, helping you to recover from the intensity of your orgasm as Jimmy’s hand rose to your mouth. His coaxed your lips apart, pushing his soaked fingers into your mouth to clean them up; you moaned lowly as you tasted yourself on him, your tongue flicking around the pads of his fingers to gather up all the wetness. His other hand came to stroke your cheek softly and you hummed around his digits, your body melting into his at the soft touch, eyes drifting closed.

They were quickly pulled open once more upon hearing Elsa’s magnified voice cut through the cheers of the gathered crowd; the small speech she delved into was all to familiar: Elsa was introducing you, the next act, to the stage and here you were, panting around Jimmy’s cum slick fingers between your lips. “Shit.” You jerked away from Jimmy, scrambling to drop your leg from his shoulder and reaching between your slick thighs to refasten your leotard, blinking rapidly to clear your bliss-clouded mind before running around to the side of the stage, stepping out into the warmth of the bright lights just as Elsa announced your name.

taglist: @kitwalker02 @three-eyed-snail @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise @thecountessesglove @undeadcortez @kitwalker64 @samsassinparvismagna @xmaximoffic @divineruler @liandav @tatesweaterweather @evanmybeloved @tatelangdonsupremacist @ikkleroniekins @ananad1 @shlutnutt @sanni333 @mossybank @tatesimper (dm to be added or removed <3)

[wizkiddx]

the worst case scenario

okay so this is possibly part 1 of a v v angsty dad!tom fic!!

WARNING: the section under the cut of this is v v v dark with mentions of death and some graphic descriptions of blood etc - please please don't read if any of these things may affect you <3

the part above the cut (the keep reading bit) is completely fluffy (a bit of childbirth but not graphic) so you could read only that first bit as a stand alone if anybody wanted to

dad!tomholland x reader

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“Stop laughing at me!!!”  Y/n exclaimed in mock anger before bursting out laughing, knowing she did look pretty ridiculous. 

“I can’t help it you just…. You look like an elephant!” Tom cackled from his reclined position lying on the couch, whilst his 8 month pregnant fiancé struggled to get up from her seated position on the floor - where she had spent the last half an hour wrapping presents for her nephews birthday.

“You know a supportive soon to be father would’ve helped me up!” Replying with a scowl that didn’t last long, Y/n finally standing up took the three steps to the couch before uncerimoniously collapsing into it. 

Grinning with this absolute sparkle in his eye, Tom leant forward and slid up to Y/n to pull her into his side. His hand came to rest upon her massive bump - at this point it was almost a rule that if he were touching Y/n he also had to be touching the bump. Tom claimed it to be skin to skin contact and although Y/n were pretty sure that didn’t come into effect until after the baby was born, she wasn’t complaining either. 

“It’s a shame your stuck with me then huh?” He murmured into the top of Y/n’s head, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head while tracing meaningless patterns on her shirt over the bump. Tom was beyond excited to become a Dad, family had always meant everything to him growing up (and now). There was nothing he wanted more , therefore, to call them a family of three - or more accurately four, not forgetting Tess of course. 

“Oh how I regret ever taking up that extra shift at the club” She mused sarcastically, enjoying how he feigned offence in return.

 The way the two had met was so incredibly cliche that it was almost painful, whenever anyone asked how they met she always winced internally. But it was their truth, Y/n had been a caddy at the golf course Tom frequented with his brothers. The nature of his ‘reputation’ meant the caddies always had to sign NDA’s to be paired with Tom’s group and the chosen few were those personally recommended by the golf course. She’d always stuck out to him, mainly because she seemed to be biting her tongue as they worked their way round the course. Caddies, also by job description, were not to speak unless spoken to; to be polite and courteous but not chatty. So, given how professioial she was, had taken some convincing for Tom to drag it out why she looked in physical pain whenever they played the 13th hole.

~~

“Look somethings on your mind I can tell! If you hate me I can arrange another caddy I just -“ He followed her march to back from the hole toward the little buggy, ahead of his brothers and Dad who were making small talk from behind.

“FINE! Okay fine.” Reaching the end of her tether, Y/n snapped, whipping her body round to face him. “It’s your grip! On this hole especially you always play the driver with you pinky too far down the shaft, it’s why you always end up in the bunker on the 13th! It’s bloody infuriating because them I’m the one that has to clean the buggy you’ve trampled sand into!”

“Oh…. I-I … I wasn’t expecting that” Tom had spoken quietly, in an unfamiliar tone to Y/n. Over hours she’d spent on the course with them over the months, Y/n had gotten used to his storytelling voice when recounting an insane experience to his family that he’d had in the world of Hollywood; his grumpy voice when he played badly, which was often; and then his gloating voice - most definitely the worst and intolerable. This voice though, was different.  

“I-I’m so sorry I have no right, I just-“ She’d out her foot in it …. badly. The young actor was one of the most clubs most prestigious and valued members; and she’d just insulted him. Clearly, she was also about to be in search of another job. 

“No no I appreciate your tip… I didn’t even realise you play?” His gracious smile calmed her nerves a little, though Y/n still wrung her hands together as she replied.

“Well we aren’t supposed to talk about it but the club let us employees loose after hours… I practice quite a bit”

“Seeing as you think my game is so shitty, you fancy a round next time?”

~~

Flash forward 3 and half years and a proposal, they were now taking their next massive leaps in the world together. Bringing a whole new life into it. It was bloody terrifying, they both openly admitted. But it was also exciting, new, incredible and… and made them even closer. Now they had to be in each others lives forever, no escaping. 

“How many days left?” Craning her neck back on his shoulder so Y/n could meet his brown eyes, she knew the answer would be immediate. 

“15 till the due date and the app said they’re the size of a rhubarb but I don’t really know what that means.” He knew more about the pregnancy and birth than she did. He had about a dozen different apps on his phone (including one pointlessly comparing the size of the baby to carrots/ watermelons/ onions), had read 4 different books (which for Tom was the equivalent to reading Newton’s book ‘philisphica Mathematica’.)

Ever since she’d told him about the pregnancy Tom had excelled every expectation Y/n had of him… massively. Without even having a conversation surrounding it, he had explicitly cancelled all major work commitments within 2 months of the due date and until around a year after. He had flown back and fourth across the world so he could pop in and check on you. He’d also set his whole family on becoming your minders when he was away - Y/n wouldn’t have been able to go a day avoiding a Holland (or Osterfield) if she had tried. 

The pregnancy thus far hadn’t been the easiest though, hence why Y/n still appreciated to constant worrying texts and calls. During the first trimester the morning sickness had been literal hell; and then you’d had a little bit of a scare with pre-eclampsia during the second. It landed you a 3 day stay in hospital and a very very panicked Tom rushing back from New York on the first possible flight. 

So now? Y/n wanted the baby out. She wanted family life as parents. (At which point hopefully Tom would stop comparing the size of your child to an assortment of different fruit and veg)

“You know, you really are going to be the best dad in the world Thomas Stanely Holland.”

“And you Y/f/n y/m/n y/l/n are already a pretty impressive mum.”

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It was 3 o’clock the next morning when Y/n awoke with a sudden groan instinctively rubbing her stomach in an attempt to get them easing up. Now too familiar with Braxton-Hicks contractions, the weird cramping that waxes and wanes but never letting her get any rest - Y/n knew she was in for a long night. With a muted sigh she carefully lifted Tom’s arm off her side, cautious not to disturb him. The poor boy had been up most nights with her, just because baby wasn’t letting her sleep, it didn’t mean Tom wasn’t deserving of rest either. 

So making furtive movements at a snails pace, she attempted to tip toe out the room - yet as Tom had pointed out before, she looked almost like an elephant, so everything was relative. Surprisingly though, she was successful, escaping onto the soft cream carpet of their hallway before choosing to venture into the room opposite theirs. It had once been a spare room, though more correctly termed the ‘shit room’ because that’s where all the accumulated shit they got was thrown. Now however, Tom and his brothers had taken on the mammoth task of clearing it out and redecorating - creating the most beautiful nursery one could ever see. Complete with a rocking chair which Y/n made a beeline for, now allowing herself to audible groan at the tight sensation deep inside her. 

Normally they would ease after a half an hour or so, yet this time, after what was surely more like an hour and a half they started to…. ramp up. What was a tight pressure sensation quickly became one more forceful volatile and full of pain. She put it off for about 3 or 4 cycles of these, pursing her lips and breathing deeply as she tried to convince herself they’d just simply fizzle away. This couldn’t be the real thing could it? It was too soon - as Tom had said she wasn’t due for another 15 days. It wasn’t happening… was it?

The answer was pretty comprehensively and cohesively given when Y/n tried to stand up, in the hope of walking the ache off, she felt an incredibly tight crunch as her insides seemed to wring themselves together. Oh … and a surge of water soaked her pyjama bottoms. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck FUCKKKK TOMMMM!! TOM-ah shit-  MY WATERS!!! TOOOMMMM”The pain had amped up to a very very impressive levels, forcing Y/n to clutch her sides as she kept bending and straightening back up… as if that would help. Her lonesome agony didn’t last long though, a flustered Tom hurtled in the room - his hair sticking up all over the place and although his eyes were puffy from sleep he still had them glued open impressively wide.

“No its-its too- its too early!” In pure disbelief, Tom shook his head staring across at her face, contorted in pain.

“Yeh because-“ She gulped and exhaled in as much of a controlled manner she could through pursed lips; before answering his stupid statement. “Because I can just HOLD IT IN FOR ANOTHER 2 WEEKS SHALL I?” It took a while for Tom to process, looking down at the puddle of clear fluid on the floor and damp patch on her plaid bottoms while it was Y/n’s turn to look upon his it utter disbelief at his stupidity. 

 “Oh shit shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!” His words grew with increased volume and place whilst he stayed frozen, his arms reaching out lightly toward Y/n without touching her though. “What do we do?!”

He of course had revised repeatedly and extensively what he was supposed to do when this happened - yet in the moment all knowledge and planning evaporated from his mind. Now wasn’t the time for taking the mick of her terrified fiancé though, Y/n was too blinded by pain as she leaned on the dresser.

“Get the-ah FUCKING hell - phone we need to time them and phone the … the-MIDWIFE.” It was hard to direct a frantic and terrified man when one feels as though her insides are collapsing in on themselves. 

Tom gulped, nodding shakily, whilst trying to take deep breaths because although he was fucking terrified it wasn’t him that was giving birth. He had to step up now. 

It took barely 10 minutes from the midwife picking up to a frantic Tom for her to assess that they needed to get into the hospital asap. During the pregnancy, all of Tom’s rich friends had recommended paying for a private hospital like the ‘Portland hospital’. The idea was it was a much more luxurious and private experience - of course coming with a heavy price tag. For Tom money was not an issue, so he’d suggested to Y/n and met the strongest rejection of all his life. The NHS was by far the only choice in Y/n’s mind - of course it busier, a lot less serene and not as private; but if god forbid something did happen, that was where all the experts and resources were. The idea of being able to pay for better access to healthcare actually repulsed Y/n and everything she stood for… so in short Tom was met with a very blunt refusal. 

Once they arrived on the ward, all it took was one look at Y/n’s inflated belly and the way her body was squirming in the wheelchair Tom was pushing, whilst laden with the baby bags they’d had packed and prepared for weeks, for the pair to be rushed into a side room. After an intense 20 minutes of getting Y/n settled, getting her full medical history and inspection of her vagina the hmidwife’s head popped up from between her legs with a kind smile. She explained in a calming and gentle tone that Y/n was 5 cms dilated and had got to that point fast, yet now things looked to be slowing down a bit. With final words of advice of try to relax she left the pair to it. 

They both looked at each other, a matching expression of confusion and relative terror blatantly clear in both their eyes. It had them both burst out laughing, if Y/n then scowled at the pain that shot through her side.

“This is really happening huh?” Tom murmured as he rounded the bed to gently run his hands through her sticky hair.

“I don’t know unless you really do want me to postpone their arrival for a short while?” Tom rolled his eyes and shook his head, although not really able to surpress the chuckle at his finances humour - even if it was at his expense.

“Glad to see you can still be as sarcastic as ever.” He laughed but before she could reply another wave of contractions hit making her instead just scream - grabbing his hand so tightly Tom was certain a bone or two were crushed in the process. 

It was another hour or two of the same traumatic sight of watching the women he loved more than anything in the world be in such extreme pain. God knows how his appreciate for his mother grew in that moment - she had had four kids overall, two of them twins! Tom dared to think of the scenes in that room of twin brothers birth. Having to deal with both Sam and Harrys large heads…

Harrison had arrived in the meantime, he was to be the child’s godfather and Y/n was more than happy to have him there - even if it was more of a support to Tom than Y/n. Quite expectantly though, he was just as terrified and useless as Tom - so instead of having one idiot to deal with, the midwives now had double trouble of terrified men. 

And yet after another 1 hour or so Y/n was being told to make one final push. Baring down on the gas and air tube, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut together whilst simultaneously contracting every muscle in her body with what little energy she had left. Hearing Tom and Harrisons words of encouragement; the midwifes orders and her own long and continuous scream, Y/n pushed with all she had. It was excruciating and torturous yet she kept going until the most beautiful sound was the only thing left reverberating round the room. 

Her babies cry. 

Tom looked at the scene in awe, feeling an almost out of body experience as the midwife unfolded from her position leant over the bed looking up to Tom. 

“Do you want to cut the cord Dad?” Releasing a breathy laugh, tears collecting in his eyes he looked down at Y/n. She looked a mess - hair flying all over the place; sweaty sheen and a ruined look on her face; panting hard as she caught her breath. But to Tom? Never had he seen her look more beautiful, especially when she managed a small smile, nodding encouragingly at him. So he moved round to the end of the bed as the nurse motioned, while Harrison squeezed Y/n’s shoulder with the proudest look on his face. 

It was the first time Tom had ever seen his child. And really, seeing a wrinkly little pink thing covered in all sorts of gunge - it shouldn’t be such a magical moment. But here he was, a single tear escaping over his lower lashes at the sight of them wriggling about. The midwife gave him a second, before gently handing him the medical scissors and directing him as to what to do. Once done, the lady announced the room it was a beautiful baby girl.

The next hour or so was a bit of a blur, the whole situation felt extremely surreal to everyone - but perhaps most to Y/n. Although the baby was premature the doctors had checked and were confident was perfectly healthy, so after both Y/n and Tom having their turn holding her (Tom finally got his real skin to skin time) they brought in a little incubator where she could rest while Y/n was recovering. Due to her prematurity, as a safety net, the doctors did want to keep the baby girl in overnight for observation, which meant the whole party would be staying too. 

Y/n loved nothing more than watching Tom and Haz with their baby. The way they delicately cradled her in their strong arms and the way their eyes softened so inexplicably. Y/n swore that had she not just pushed a watermelon sized human out her vagina, the way Tom looked while holding their daughter would make her pregnant all over again.  

“I still can’t believe you two created a real life human.” Harrison mused while standing with the baby girl in his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as he watched her sleep soundly. 

“To be fair it was mainly Y/n” Tom laughed as he squeezed Y/n’s hand (wincing internally as it hurt his already injured hand - Y/n had an almost death grip)

“Oh no credit where credits due… he was involved for a whole 3 minutes or so.” Harrison snorted and Tom scowled at her, yet her cheeky if exhausted grin instantly erased any annoyance.

“Don’t make sexual jokes in front of our child!” He retorted, Harrison still laughing at his friend. Haz loved Y/n too - she made Tom a better version of himself. And now, she’d made him a dad. 

**triggering part starts here

After all the excitement of the early morning it was more than fair to say Y/n was shattered, Tom not doing much better. So after a little bit, Tom joined Y/n on the bed and they instantly fell asleep to the light beeping of their babies heart monitor. Harrison stayed in the arm chair in the corner of the room, wheeling the little incubator right in front of him to just stare at the little girl. He had been texting Tom’s family too, giving them details of when they’d be allowed to come and meet the little one, who had just woken up to all Tom’s frantic texts from the night before.

Eventually though he was ped ousnapt of his happy daze, looking over to the bed and seeing Tom groan as he shifted on the mattress that was technically only spacious enough for one.

“You good mate?” Harrison spoke in a low voice, keen not to disturb either the baby of Y/n - she had earned a bit of peace. Tom just mumbled in response, rubbing his eyes as he sat up before letting out a deeper groan.

“-hat the fuck” Tom lifted up the blanket covering them both as Harrison looked on inquisitively. But then Tom leapt off the bed, started violently shouting Y/n as he shook her in a look of desperation. It was violent and harsh, Harrison was horrified as he immediately stood up in an action to pull Tom off her. 

“Tom what are you-“

“Get help Haz.” Tom turned around to look at Haz, only at which point could the blonde haired boy make out why Tom looked so insane. Because his trousers, and the bedsheets that were now not hidden by the blankets, was covered in a red sticky substance. Jaw dropping, Haz slalomed round the incubator to stand at the foot of the bed. 

It honestly looked like a horror scene. Y/n’s lower half was completely saturated in a bright red liquid that slowly was creeping further and further through the sheets. Her face looked pale, Haz cursing himself for not noticing earlier and her breathing… it looked so slow it was barely noticeable. The silence was only endured for a few moments, before Tom turned back to violently shaking the dead weight below him yelling her name repeatedly and frantically. 

As soon as the alarm was raised more and more staff piled into the room, each one carrying a new level of importance and seniority - instantly taking control of the room and shouting orders. Tom had long since been pulled away from the bed by a nurse, who was trying to speak to him and calm him down, but was completely ignored as he focused on the scene over their shoulder.

“Looking like a primary PP bleed but she’s lost at least 3 pints already…. Somone bleep the aenestists and lets get moving to the OR please!.. We’ll need bloods crossmatch 5 units….”  

Tom heard to the controlled sense of urgency in the lead doctors voice and he felt as though his heart was being torn straight from his chest. Harrison took over from the nurse, half restraining - half hugging him as the nurse ushered them completely out the room.  Shouting over Tom’s desperate pleas to let the doctors do their thing. He fought hard against Harrison but ultimately his hold was enough to keep him back, the two watching from he corridor as Y/n’s bed was wheeled rapidly out the room - what seemed like at least 12 staff members bustling after it.

Harrison knew it was hopeless to try and talk to Tom, as he paced up and down the ‘relatives room’ the two had been confined to. They didn’t have a clue what was going on, no-one seemed to want to tell them - making the worst case option appear the most likeliest in Harrison’s head. A nurse had said the baby, as yet unnamed, had been taken down the neonatal unit so that it was one thing less for them to worry about ; but refused to say anything about Y/n, saying a doctor would come and explain soon. 

It must’ve been 20 mins, even if to the two men it felt like a lifetime, when a round and short, greying man with big black rimmed rectangular glasses entered the room. Tom was too in his own head to even notice, pacing up and down the room while constantly running a hand through his hair as he tried to keep his breath in regular time - even if his brain was on overdrive.  It took Harrison calling his name twice to make him snap out of it, looking up with desperate pleading eyes to notice the stout man, a sympathetic smile on his face. 

“Are you Mrs y/L/n’s husband?”

“Fiance”

“I’m Dr Webber the consultant gynaecologist,  shall we take a seat sir?” Tom stayed rigid, standing opposite him in an offensive manner.

“She’s dead isn’t she?” At Tom’s cold words, Haz’s breath halted in his chest. It had been what they’d both been thinking, of course, it was natural when you see someone with more blood out their body than inside it. The doctor seemed a little shocked at his frankness, pressing his lips together as he let out a sigh. 

“No sir she’s not but she is very very unwell. Please, let’s sit down so we can talk about it because I understand it’s a lot to take in.” It took a couple of movements of Tom stood frozen staring but Dr Webber held firm, waiting until Tom took a seat next to Haz before he moved - drawing a chair from across the room so he could face both men. 

“First off I’m sorry you were removed from the room and put in here for so long but these situations are incredibly hard and to get Y/n the best care we needed the whole room.”

“Doctor I just… I just need to know what’s going on.” He couldn’t deal with the state of unknowing, Tom was going insane, he didn’t care for the small talk. 

“Sorry right, so what we think happened was your fiancé developed a condition called ‘placental accreta’. In simple terms, a bit of the placenta is stuck in the uterus and causes bleeding.”

“That much bleeding?” Haz couldn’t help himself from butting in, he knew this wasn’t really his place, that he was just being there for Tom. But at the same time that was his godchilds mum, it mattered. 

“Honestly? Usually not, Y/n had very severe bleed… So she has been taken in for surgery, where the very talented surgeons are trying patch up the affected blood vessels. I’m afraid at this point that’s all I can really say.”

“So… she’s going to be okay?” It was desperate plea for something that, even if Tom wouldn’t admit, he didn’t really believe - it seemed as if none of the three in the room did. 

“It’s not that easy I’m afraid. Assuming the surgeons can stabilise the bleeding and fix it…. with blood loss like she has suffered we… we don’t know what the effects of that will be. We tried to prevent as much damage to her brain and body as possible with transfusing blood into her and it was good that she was in hospital so could get treatment almost immediately…. But I’m afraid it’s simply too early to say. The first hurdle is going to be getting her out of surgery safely, only then can we deal with whatever happens next.”

Tom had so many emotions flashing through his head. He knew the doctor was trying to go slow to make the information a little more digestible  but it was all so bloody incomprehensible. So when the greying man asked  both men if they had any questions, neither took up his offer. Surely they both would after hours of processing and analysing but for right now? They were stunned into silence. 

“Okay sir, now I hope you don’t mind me saying this but it really is important for you to hear. You are now a father, as Y/n is a mother. This situation is never easy but as a first time dad I need you to be aware that now your fiancé can’t be your only priority. We are all here to support you but please, just remember that.”

Harrison was so glad the doctor had said that, it was so completely true - yet Haz knew he didn’t have enough power to have said it to Tom. The whole thing was impossible and at the centre was an innocent, beautiful but totally dependant baby. 

“What happens now then?” Haz had to ask on behalf of his friend, who was now completely overwhelmed. Dr Webber sighed, leaning back and rubbing his knees before answering. 

“If the surgery is successful it’ll be at a best estimate two hours before we will have news for you , then she will be taken into intensive care where everything else would be assessed and further investigations would happen. You can both stay here or go get food, maybe go down and see the baby in the neonatal ICU? I personally promise that as soon as any of us get any news you will be the first to know.” 

He was met with the sort of silence that makes you shiver. Sighing heavily, the doctor rubbed his knees, apparently preparing to leave. “This possibly one of the worst case scenarios that could’ve happened but Y/n is in the best hands and we will do everything for her. If you do think of anything you want clarification on, grab one of the nurses and they’ll come and find me.”

And then he left. 

The room was deathly silent. Harrison couldn’t dare to look over at Tom - he knew what he would see and honestly seeing Tom like that would only make it worse. God knows how long they sat in those plastic lined, lightly padded hospital chairs. Both in silence. Just thinking… or more like worrying… or more like dreading. It was Tom who actually broke the silence first, his voice barely audible but still the meaning was crisp and clear. 

“I can’t do it Haz” For the first time since the doctor was with them, Harrison looked at Tom, catching him directly in the eye. That hurt… Tom’s eyes looked so, so… hopeless. He knew what his broken friend was saying, but honestly Haz didn’t want to hear it so he did not respond. That didn’t stop Tom though, he continued. “I can’t do it. … I-I can’t be a dad without her… I just can’t.”

What the hell was Harrison supposed to say? There wasn’t really a guidebook to this situation. He was clueless. So, cautiously Harrison just leaned over, wrapping his arms round Tom as he all but collapsed into his friends chest. Tom was sobbing harshly as Harrison looked up at the ageing ceiling tiles, trying to surpress his own emotions because now clearly wasn’t about him. 

“You can Tom… you have to.” His friend didn’t respond, well apart from harsh sobs that racked his frame. And so Harrison just let Tom cry, folded awkwardly and uncomfortably over the arm rest of the chairs, occasionally yelling into his chest at the unjustness of the situation. 

It wasn’t fair. But it had still happened. And there was still a baby girl by herself downstairs. 

//////

is this okay or too much? I won't write another part if generally people think its a bit too dark!!!!

[muffindaddystyles]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

Author's note: let's welcome the Christmas season with this cosy smut full of lovin'. This idea occured to me whilst watching one of the friends episode where Joey loves to do girly things. Yes. Your're welcome.

P.S: Requests are always open, don't forget to give feedback and reblogs.

Cashmere scent of opal stone danced inside the snuggly space, perfect warmth doomed around and Amour Plastique playing on the floyd vinyl recorder. You and him sprawled on the twin bed yet squeezed atop of eachother due to it's size, you steal glances of his soft pink hands like that of kitten paws working with the knitting needles with a determined pout and the crease of brows you're eager to massage.

The words you're reading on the tip of your tongue stuttered into void when he shook his knee in the admist of distraction as you're resting your head atop his thick thighs while reading The tell tale heart by Edgar Allan Poe.

Two cuppa of espresso you guys made together in the celebration of british showers outside cackling empty onto floor and his cinnamon breath relaxed your soul, everytime he'd poke his pink tongue out when the pattern would get quite tricky his sweater with three different hues of sky would ride up his smooth skin causing his ferns to weaver.

You flicker a gaze to him when he groans tangling his middle finger with ball of yellow yarn, "'ey baby—no rush, yeah?" You squeeze his ankles covered with your cupcake socksies. Pecking his thigh and turning on your belly to slide your palms under his sweater.

"But wanna see ye' wearin' it on the day of Christmas." He whines huffing with his puckered lips. You chuckled shaking your head at his cuteness winding your arms around his waist and climbing up his thighs with your legs wrapped around his's like a snail, like that of baby panda.

"Doesn't matter every time's christmas time when it's with ye' my baby." You cooed brushing his spindle of curls back and he groans letting his head fall on your shoulder, leaving a little kiss to your exposed clavicles.

He's been attempting to knit a sweater for you from past two months with the help of bunch of youtube tutorials and your guidance, waking you up in the wee of night with gentle sheepish taps when a certain chain went wrong.

It bursted your heart into little shrads of golden glitter. His affection could be too much sometimes that could make you sob into his neck, make love to him in the hours when world's asleep. Give him all lovin' he deserves. The way he makes you feel that of your first dance with him in the empty parking lot, shared sunsets in the meadows and watching movies at seven in the morning. He still makes you feel like that. Gooey, skittish and like a candy floss disappearing into rainbow water.

"How 'bout we take a break?" You suggest him and he pondered over it fumbling with the stray of lilac yarn at the hem of sweater he's knitting for you. "Hm. ye're right, how 'bout a quick shag?" His grin lopsided as he placed things aside sliding his arm under your bum to pull you closer to him. You snuggled into him giving him kitten whines and cries that turns him super on.

"Doesn't seem borin' t' me." You smirk kissing his temple meandering your fingers in his matte curls massaging his scalp that caused him to buck his hips with a moan of relaxation.

He tilts his face with shut eyes and thin lips exposing more of his milky flesh for you to leave love bites. You peer up at him with lust filled eyes while sucking and lapping an already purple hickey fading as of stardust.

"Mhm. puppy, c'mon do somethin'." He writhes under you grazing his digits beneath your blouse tweaking your nipple gently that caused you to jolt in his grasp. "Shh, 's okay. How d'ya want me?" You cradle his tired face in your warm calloused palms circling your thumb at the littlest of scruff on his chin while bopping his nose with your's.

"Want ye' to fuck meh." His lewd words heightens your breath and you nodded kissing his sweet deep spot beneath his earlobe making him grip the hem of your panties with lousy fingers.

"'M all yours." You whisper to him shimming his brown corduroy trousers down, his rosy lips parts away when you grind yourself over his thick bulge. When you were about to get rid of your panties he caught your wrists coming out of his sensual trance. "Don't. it feels good–when ye'r panties grazes me cock." You gasp flopping into his chest and he giggled kissing your hair sniffing your pomegranate scent.

"You're a minx, Harry Styles." You murmured against his lips with a happy sigh and he cupped your cheeks passionately as you moved your panties aside stroking the head of his cock between your pussy lips lubricating him with your arousal, flicking your clit in circles.

Your temples coming to kiss when you slided him inside your sloppy hole and he thrusted deep inside you where you could feel him in your tummy.

Giggles resonated into your tiny room when thunder erupted outside causing you to cramp around his thickness with a hard squeeze, "fuck." He grunted in between giggles shushing you with gentle kiss when you whimpered as he hit a sweet spot inside you.

You gazed him with hooded lids riding his cock with slow pace, admiring the way ecastasy gleed upon his features. Sloppy, obscene noises of skin slapping skin and moans mingling as you palpitated around his longevity.

"S' warm, could stay inside ye' fo' hours." He rasped out swiveling his hips into agonisingly deep thrust knowing you're bout to topple into the bliss making disgustingly cute noises against the apple of your cheeks as if he's taking bites out of it and you tittered looping your elbows around the nape of his neck playing with his baby curls.

"Mhpm. open ye'r pretty mouth puppy." He trailed his fingers to your lips pulling the lower plump one and when you stuck your tongue out he pressed the pads of his pointer and middle finger into it, sliding it towards your throat. Your eyeballs rolling to your head when with other hand he pinned your hips down fucking into you brutally, you gagged around his digits and in reaction he exhaled through his nostrils spanking your ass.

His stomach coiling with rapture. Your walls constantly squeezing and nursing his cock, the edge of your panties grazing his cock leaving a mild print and your whimpers with blushed face's enough to make him cum into you with long ribbons of white.

He kept fucking into you pumping his cum inside your tiny hole and your whole body shook blissfully like sea waves as pleasure drowned you inside it with a powerful force.

His sloppy thrust coming to halt gradually when you cacooned around his body whining with sensitivity and he stroked your hair affectionately reminding you of his presence. Your cheeks smashed against his chest and perked nipples flushed against him. He sighed with mellowness rubbing your calves and thighs on either side of his waist.

"Don't. Stay inside me." You mumbled hugging him warmly and he yawned pecking your ears, "fo' nap, kay? then we'll get ya cleaned up." He chuckled mid-sentence hearing your little snores.

Taking your chin he pecked you thrice before sliding under sheets with you ontop of him nestling his cock inside you like a warm wrap. The pink sweater with lilac shabby hearts and needles stuffed into it's loop sitting undone on the bedside as his token of love.

.

[cadykeus-clay]

remember a few days ago when i said i was writing a collection of mismatched scenes of all the times that I think jester and caleb should have just kissed on the mouth? hehe :)

I.

“Caleb, can you hear through it?” she’s yelling, head tilting and eyes squinting as she looks at the one-way glass he’s just apparated in the middle of the hall. She leans in, scrunching her nose and sticking out her tongue a little as she detectives. “Can we come into it?”

He grins, he can’t help himself. “Only you.”

“Do we just hit the side of it or -” 

Her fingertips press through the barrier, disrupting the near-transparent bubble with a ripple and he reaches out his hand for hers, guides her in. Her mouth makes the cutest little oh! shape as she passes through and she can see what he’s seeing. 

“Caleb. This is so COOL!”

The grin hasn’t dropped from her face, and it spreads infectiously across his. 

“I’ve been working on this for weeks,” he says, smacking his legs with triumphant fists. 

Her grin gets even wider, sharing in that joy. A few more silent moments pass, as she takes it in with awe. 

“So, can anyone come in, or like, only people you like, or … ?”

He thinks for a moment, grins slyly. He sticks a finger out, just barely missing her nose. “You can come in.”

She leans towards him, returning the affection he seems to be offering. She gets close to his face, on purpose. She likes making him blush. “That means you like me.”

Blush he does. It’d be near impossible not to - they’re alone and unseen together, and she’s leaning towards him, her grin pushing up the freckles on her cheeks he’d love to try and count. And he’s tired, exhausted, barely functional. He’s got no strength left to carry all the layers he usually hides himself behind, but it’s alright, it’s only Jester looking anyways. 

She hasn’t pulled her face back yet, like she’s waiting for him to do something. Tease. 

Even after everything they’ve both seen these past few days, fear seems gone for just a second. They’re safe inside their shell, and no one’s watching. It would be so easy to just lean down, steal a moment to remind her that he cares, remind her that he’ll always care, remind her that he did this to keep her safe, take her mind off why. 

It would be so easy ...

******

II. 

“Can we like. Stick things through the bubble?”

“Uh. Ja, you can put your weapons through it, but no magic can come in or out. But you can leave and come back any time you want.”

“Okay. Just checking.”

She tries to hide the wince in her face as she nods a bit too heartily, jostling the half-healed slash across her chest left from panther-like claws. He notices. She notices him noticing, notices the way his brow furrows even deeper. 

“But, please. No walkabouts when we are sleeping, okay?” 

He looks up at her through those drawn-together brows when he says it, pleading more than he really needs to. She learned that lesson. But it’s still sweet to see how much he cares. 

He’s been caring a lot lately, come to think of it. Chatting with her on the boat. Checking in. Making sexy jokes when they’re supposed to be stealthing. Doing a very bad job of hiding his attempts to make sure she laughed at it.

“I’ll stay right here. I promise.” She settles back onto her hands, hoping it’ll bring a little relief to the pain starting to spark across her ribs.

“Well. That’s good enough for me.”

And he pauses for a second, just a second, like he’s giving her an invitation to double down on that promise, make sure he knows she knows someone cares, and who someone is, and that someone else cares back.

It would be so easy … 

******

III.

When she was little and read a lot of fairy tales, she’d often think about kissing a beautiful boy in a beautiful room full of paintings and tapestries and a billion things on shelves that glittered just to be pretty, and the light would somehow be reflecting off all of them at once, and his shirt would be off for reasons, and it would be glorious.

The tunnel they're in can’t really constitute as a room, but the way the crystals shimmer even in the dim glow of the Dancing Lights, rippling all around them is arguably better than shiny decorations. Caleb certainly can constitute as a beautiful boy. After all, she’s just admitted he is neither stinky nor dirty anymore. And arm wraps aren’t quite the same as a shirt, but he has taken part of his clothes off in front of her. 

Creepy snails and the third day without daylight weren’t her romantic vision, sure. But. She feels safe here, with him, and she hopes he feels safe with her. She had meant what she had said, a few days back, when he spilled his fears and his history on the floor of their wagon. She didn’t think he was a bad person. And the way he looked at her when she said it, man, he wanted to believe it. He wanted to believe it so bad. 

She ought to let him know. She ought to tell him, again, that she believes in goodness in him. She believes in love in his heart. She ought to tell him right now, in this glittering cave with his heart and arms bare before her. She ought to tell him in a way where he can’t argue back ‘cause his face will be preoccupied. 

It would be so easy …

*******

IV. 

“YOU GUYS!”

She practically burst the door to their new ally’s house down with excitement when she got back, holding out the little striped carrying box in front of her like it’s the coolest loot they’ve ever found. She bounces on her toes, making it hard for anyone to get a real look at the confections inside. 

“What do you have?” he asks, knowing she wants to tell him.

“Cupcakes!” she beams back.

“A lot of them, or?”

She flips the lid up and pushes her nose nearly into the icing topping as she examines the haul. “Well I have thirteen here, so … one, two, three -” 

He almost says the numbers along with her. Counting things and making Jester smile are both muscle memory at this point.

“ - six, so good! That’s one for each of you and the rest for me!”

He looks in the box properly now, the counting having slowed her jitteriness enough for him to try and piece out flavors. There’s some dark ones that could be chocolate, but he doubts it, and some that are paler, dotted with blue. He reaches for a blueberry one, and takes a cautious bite. 

“Caleb,” she says, pouting, and he’s worried he wasn’t supposed to try one, “you are Missing. Out.” 

She sticks her face in towards him, to make sure he can get a good look at this reprimand. She’s got a little bit of icing stuck in the corner of her mouth. 

“You can get blueberry cupcakes anywhere.”

He keeps his eyes trained on her, longer than he really ought to, but he’s trying to figure it out. 

Is that a challenge, Lavorre? Is that a promise?

It would be so easy...

*******

V. 

She has to get up on her tip toes to reach the shelf where they keep the scribing paper, pulling the stack towards her so she can count out sheets. 

“About 300 gold?” 

“Mmm.”

She counts out the sheets, thumbing them forward into a little pile that she pulls apart, before stretching up to push the rest back onto the shelf. She turns on her heel and marches for the front counter. He lingers a moment to straighten the pile on the shelf, and trails after her. 

His gaze is buried in the inside of his coat as he searches for his coin purse. His hands are still buzzing, just a little, from where she held them earlier and promised him she’d be at his side. He can’t stop thinking about it. It’s distracting him from getting his coins. 

The distinctive clink of metal on countertop jerks his gaze up just as he reaches his hand in for the first coin. She’s already dropped the gold in a neat little pile, pleasantly smiling at the clerk as she snaps the clasp on her purse shut. 

“That’s very generous of you,” he says, hand still frozen holding his own money. 

She swings around, flashing a thumbs up and a grin. She holds it a little too long for comical effect. Of course, he snickers. 

She turns to the paper on the countertop, making to gather it in her arms, but he starts, and she turns back to face him. He’s frozen there, hand just barely outstretched for her, mouth agape like he was going to say something. 

What is there to say? What can he possibly say to her, to repay everything she’s ever said to him? What can he say that’s worth the sound of her laugh, and the way her tongue sticks out a little when she smiles? What’s worth the way she brightens up a room even when she’s grumpy, the bubble to his gloom? 

What measures up to a tap on his shoulder as he turns to leave his study, and hands in his as she swears, with the most somber honesty he’s ever seen, that she watched him face what he could have been, tied up like a feral beast in a prison cell, and she stares in his eyes and tells him it’s ok, she saw it and loved him even through it, and then bought him presents afterwards just because?

He’ll never deserve her, he swears. 

She’s still looking at him, expectantly, and his mouth is still stuck open, and his hand is still halfway between the two of them. Maybe it’s just him, but the memory of her holding it seems to be burning even hotter. 

He tries to say something again, and the words aren’t coming out. She’s still waiting on him, expression starting to tip towards worry as he tries and fails to express just how overflowed his heart is right now. He can’t say it but gods, she ought to know how much she’s worth to him. Maybe he can just show her. He’ll tell her later.

It would be so easy … 

******

VI. 

The hallway is orange. Pale, warm, sort-of-translucent orange, swirling about her in patterns of lollipops and unicorn hamsters. Her own spells wrapped in the tender grip of his magic, handed to her with something like reverence. 

I believe, he had said, I have no choice. 

He’d done little things like this before, casting spells to make her and everyone else happier, letting her play with his cat because it made her smile. But he said he’d been working on this for weeks. Pouring time and sweat and his precious paper into making this thing, just for her. Everyone liked to tease her about the Traveler and how it was totally a cult, and usually she let it roll off her back, even if it stung a little on impact. And Caleb was here, telling her he took her belief in the Traveler at face value, simply because it was hers.

I don’t know anything about faith, he had said, I am learning from you.

He was a suspicious man. She knew that. He held grudges, and he mistrusted, and he had every right to. And yet all these months, he’s been putting everything he had in her hands, sure that she would not drop it. She would hold it as gently as she could.

I am the transmutation wizard, he had said, but you are the one who changes people. 

How was he supposed to know that was what she was afraid of, leaving no mark on the world at all? How was he supposed to know she made art everywhere she got the chance to in hopes that she would stop being erased, start existing outside of one little room and a handful of people? 

He wouldn’t have any reason to, except for he knew her so well, better than nearly anyone. He could tell when doubt was crawling up out of her gut, spilling its black tendrils from her mouth and across her eyes. He could see when the veneer got scratched, and he knew how to brush it just so, so it looked okay again. He knew how to comfort her. 

“It’s beautiful.” 

She knows it’s barely anything, but she doesn’t know what else to say. It caught her by surprise, and she’s reeling a little in the aftermath of seeing just how far he’s willing to go for her. 

He says something else, she barely processes, but it’s enough to get her babbling about some kind of performance. She trips over her words a little, she’s just so excited. He can tell, he smiles, and that just makes her heart jump even more. 

“But you have done so much for m- for all of us,” he says, and he’s not sneaky.

For me. She knows he was going to say it. For me. 

Tears are almost brimming in her eyes, happy ones, and he put them there. Done so much for her, she thinks, has he counted how much he’s done for me? She’s clasping her hands at her mouth, trying to keep all her feelings from coming out at once.  

He doesn’t know the half of it, everything he’s done for her. To make her feel safe, to make her feel smart, to make her feel seen, to make her feel believed in. He doesn’t know it at all, and yet the hallway is orange as a testament to how much he’s done, and she can’t let the sentiment go unreturned. 

It would be so easy … 

*******

VII.

“Didn’t go as well as you were hoping?”

His voice seems to startle her, as if she’d forgotten in her sadness that there were other people around her. He knew the feeling. 

“In some ways it went better?” she says, doubting it even as it leaves her mouth. “But. No.”

His face softens. It’s the only thing he can do, really.

Her breath is coming out shaky.

“I can’t speak for him,” he starts, offering what little encouragement he can, “but you do have us.”

“I know,” she answers, grateful even through the sadness. 

“So, whatever you land on. Jester.” He stops for a second, letting her name linger in his mouth. “We will make it happen.”

She nods, curt, tears still pricking in her eyes. “I have to figure out what I want to land on.”

He laughs, hollow and breathy, what else is there to do. He starts to reach his hand out for her, and catches it, his own hesitance getting the better of him.

He knows what he wants her to land on, he’s known for … longer than he really cares to admit. He knows he’d follow her to hell and back, that’s why he’s here on this island with her. 

He knows how hard it is to love without a compass to direct it. He knows that moonlight makes selfishness a much more appealing color. 

It’s dark, and he’s hopelessly in, and she’s searching for a place to not be so alone. He could show her a place to land. 

It would be so easy … 

******

VIII. 

He’s holding it out to her, a black ball clutched between his fingertips, just a little iridescent in the blazing sun overhead. He’s grinning, and his eyes are bright. He looks so happy, for just this moment, with a pearl in his hand. 

Forget the water pouring down their faces as they come up from the murk, plastering their hair to their foreheads at odd angles. Forget the wrench in both their guts about the monster brewing beneath their feet and in their minds. Forget the clothes sticking to their skin in all the wrong spots. Forget the sounds of their friends arguing twenty feet back. 

She jumped in the water with him for a reason, because he wanted pearls, and she wanted him to be happy, and he’s holding one out to her right now because he is, and that’s all she could really ask for.

Maybe it’ll be extra wet and slippery. Maybe it’ll taste like salt and seaweed and that weird fish stink that all bodies of water seem to have. Maybe her hands are covered in sand and they’ll get some in their mouths and it’ll be disgusting. 

Who cares? She jumped in the water with him and he’s happy. 

It would be so easy … 

******

IX.

The funny thing is, when she was little, she actually planned her wedding in this room. The canopy bed would double as the altar, gauze draping about them and the window lighting them from the back as they knelt with their hands together, wrapping them up with silk ribbon as someone spoke some formal rites. Mama would sit in the guest of honor chair at Jester’s desk, a tear running down her cheek as she watched her baby girl marry the love of her life.

Now Caleb’s in here with her and she’s realizing there’s no good angle to get the window backlight and be in full view of her Mama.

He’s lying down on the bed, because she told him to. She’s flopped down next to him, squirmed up into his side with the excuse of “small bed” but the intent of “I like the way I rest against your side”. 

He’d commented on her array of books - she knew he would. She may or may not have pulled the smarter looking titles up to the front a few visits ago, just in case.

He’d looked at her artwork too, spanning the walls in all its multicolored glory. He’d bent down to get a good look at her earliest, shittiest paintings. But not in the way where he wanted to see how bad they were, to laugh at. In the same way he looked at new artifacts they’d picked up along the road, as he traced his runes for Identify. Like he was trying to glean a missed history out of them, to get to know just a little bit more about what was in front of him now.

So she’s curled into his chest, careful with her horns, wrapping her hand over his to point out every last detail. Her other hand falls to his stomach, her fingers brush his, and neither of them pull away.

She always figured they’d fall like this, her and her husband, backward onto the bed after the ribbon was knotted to finalize their union. They’d be too happy to stand and they’d just collapse at each other’s side, and they’d plan their honeymoon like this. Pointing out places they wanted to go in her little snapshot of the cityscape, nestled into each other’s chests. 

Caleb’s enraptured, she can hear excitement in his breath, and she’s more than a little pleased. She didn’t know people cared this much about her art, about her childhood, about who she was before she became who she is. She hopes she has all the time in the world to tell him more. 

She’s still on his chest, their hands are still touching, even though she’s finished pointing out the painted landmarks. She’s kissed a lot of imaginary boys in this room. 

It would be so easy … 

******

X.

Spinning with her arms out, feet tracing circles in the snow, they haven’t even made it to the dance hall yet and she’s already waltzing like he taught her all those months ago in a scroungy gnomish bar. The cold is bringing a flush to her cheeks and god damn it, it’s cute. She’s humming. 

They could get inside where it’s warm, where they don’t need to get close for heat but they do anyway. Wrap an arm around her waist and take her hand in his. Keep her close enough to hear her giggle with each twirl he leads her on. Get drunk off her smile alone. 

Find a far corner where the music is softer and they have space to just sway together. Write new memories over old, equally as sweet, slightly less bitter. Look at that smile that won’t have faded since before they stepped through the door. Run his fingers across her jaw, save this moment in tactile too. Lean down in slow motion, as she stretches up.

It would be so easy … 

******

XI. 

“What are you drawing?” he asks, not even looking up from his spells. He’s grown comfortable with having her in his space.

“A cup of hot cocoa.”

“Are there dicks in it?”

“No, just two very lovely marshmallows.”

His head lifts up at that, gazing at her with the gleam he’s been giving his runes. He’s trying to figure her out.

“Shnuggling up next to each other,” she continues. “With consent.”

“We’re not talking about grass are we?”

“No. I’m talking about marshmallows.”

“Marshmallows?” The gleam in his eye grows a little brighter. He leans a little closer. “I thought there was a hidden meaning for a second.”

There’s a reason why she sat down here, why she wanted him next to her as she thought about love and commitment, and telling people things after all these months. There’s a reason why he didn’t start as she settled at his side. There’s a reason why he’s looking at her with a cocked grin on his face, sure of himself, in a way that he so rarely is. 

Maybe she wanted him to figure her out. Maybe she’s been trying to get him to figure her out for a while. He’s starting to turn back to his spells, so maybe she needs to get even a little more obvious.

It would be so easy...

******

XII.

She knocked on the door with her heart already in her throat, but the second she stepped through the door and saw him looking over at her, tired but welcoming, it started to settle back where it belonged. 

“Caleb. Will you cast tongues on me? YouknowImeanthespell,” she said, rushing words out because her heart was starting to leap back up again. “I just want to read the book.”

He nervously tucks some hair behind his ear. “I could read it to you, if you want?”

She knew he’d offered before, but she’s still surprisingly happy that he’s done it again. “Okay.”

He stands, wiping stained ink from his fingers on his pants as he leaves his desk, gesturing her over towards his fireplace. She swears as she walks over the flames get a little taller. She’s always liked it warmer than Caleb does. 

She flops down onto the couch, wiggling a little bit to get comfortable. She pats the seat next to her and he obliges. She holds the book out and he takes it from her, so very gently, and she can’t tell if it’s just the way he treats books, or the way he treats her, or both. 

He clears his throat as he prepares to open the cover, glancing over to make sure she’s ready. She scooches a bit closer, resting her cheek against his shoulder, you know, to see the pictures better, and hums to let him know he can start. 

He talks to her in a quiet kind of voice. It’s soft, and it makes his chest rumble, and it feels like home. She could close her eyes and fall asleep here, and she can bet he wouldn’t even get up and risk disturbing her. She nearly does, but he’s stopping every few sentences to show her the pictures, without her even asking, he just knows she wants to see them. He’s pointing out the hidden cat on every page. She loves that he still remembers where they all are.

“That was a happy story, Caleb!” she says, mostly to his shoulder, because she doesn’t want to move from where she’s nestled herself. 

“Mhm,” he agrees. “That’s why my mother read it to me.”

“I really thought, like, the cat prince was going to trap him in there forever, and then he wouldn’t be able to go and see his mother.” She cranes her head up now, propping her chin on his arm, stabilizing herself with arms she was barely aware she’d wrapped around his waist. 

“Well,” he says, turning his head towards her and finding their noses nearly touching, “a lot of Zemnian stories do end that way.”

She laughs, he smiles, and neither of them want to move. 

“The Cat Prince kind of reminds me of the Traveler,” she muses. She buries her face back in his shoulder as she talks, squeezing her arms a little tighter around him. 

“It’s true, isn’t it?” 

It’s a question only in technicality. The way his voice sounds as he says it, she can tell. He’s read so many stories, he could have picked any to leave in her room, but he chose this one about a boy and a bedroom and a magic cat and a brief escape, with a happy ending. He knew she’d ask. He wanted her to. 

She’s glad she did. She’s glad he knows her so well. She’s glad for the way he turned up the fire to make her comfortable. She’s glad for the smile that’s still on his lips, lasting longer than his smiles usually do. She’s glad she’s here with him, after everything they’ve seen and heard and done. She’s just glad. 

Gods, she’s so in love with him.

It would be so easy.

fin.

[brokensamurai1]

WARNING: MATURE CONTENT

Y/N smiles and chats happily with the other pastas as they eat and drink in celebration of the new year. Everyone laughs and mingles together as they wait for the new year to start, Ben connecting us to all country channels so we can celebrate the new year at all times. It was a habit Ben had introduced. Everyone celebrates the new year with every country and they make food and decorations to celebrate each country. Today they were celebrating with the United States of America, watching the ball drop in New York City.

“Everyone say cheese!” Splendor smiles, taking pictures of everyone enjoying themselves.

“Y/N, take another shot with me!” Eyeless Jack calls excitedly.

“Just one more!” Y/N laughs, hurrying over to partake in the fun.

“To family and friends!” E.J. cheers, everyone clinking the shot glasses before they all down them in a gulp.

“Don’t overdo it. I’m not making breakfast,” Slender reminds everyone.

“You got it boss!” I tease him with a grin.

Slender would be rolling his eyes if he had any at my statement. We were actually boyfriend and boyfriend but started off as leader and proxy. Y/N still couldn’t help messing with him and calling him boss. Sometimes it got on his nerves which Y/N found comical. Everyone knew they were together and fully supported the relationship, the only catch? Y/N had never had a relationship as good as the one he had with Slender and he was taking things at a snail pace. He was just so terrified of Slender leaving him or moving things so fast Slender would disapprove. Tonight spoils be different though. He had made a private resolution that he was going to celebrate with Slender.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Slender asks gently when you come over to get more food to eat.

“Yep! It’s always a blast celebrating New Years,” Y/N tells him with a smile. “How about you?”

“Being chaperone isn’t my idea of fun but I’m happy to see everyone else happy,” Slender chuckles softly.

“Come on, at least enjoy a glass of wine? I worked hard on the cranberry orange,” Y/N coos excitedly.

“One glass,” Slender chuckles, moving to pour himself a glass. “There. One glass.”

“Awesome!” Y/N cheers with excitement.

“Guys! Hurry up! It’s about time,” Ben shouts, everyone crowding into the living room.

We all count down when it’s time, cheering and clinking glasses as the new year rolls in. The party doesn’t end though. Everyone continues chatting, drinking, and enjoying the available food. Some pastas end up passed out in the living room, others went to their rooms, and many others were still enjoying the party.

“This is a blast,” Y/N laughs, looking to the side before his eyes widen when he doesn’t find Slender with him.

Y/N smiles and shakes his head, setting down his glass of wine before he heads upstairs in search of his boyfriend. He makes his way to Slender’s room, knocking gently before opening the door when he’s bid to enter.

“Hey you. You ran away pretty fast,” Y/N teases him with a chuckle.

“My apologies. I spilled wine on my shirt,” Slender explains, Y/N’s cheeks flushing when he turns around to reveal the wine stain on his white shirt.

“Th-That’s a shame. I hope you can get it out,” Y/N I tells him, his cheeks flushed as he looks over Slender’s body.

It wasn’t right that he was blessed with a body as amazing as it was!

“I’ve gotten worse out,” Slender chuckles. “Why aren’t you enjoying the party? No need for me to ruin the fun.”

“A-Actually, I had a present for you,” Y/N admits with flushed cheeks.

“Oh? What’s the occasion?” Slender asks in surprise.

“I just......I decided I was ready,” Y/N explains.

“Ready? Ready for what? Your sex change? You know I would have been happy paying for it. You deserve to feel happy with yourself and be in the body you feel is right for you,” Slender explains.

“Not that, although I’m close. No, I actually had something else in mind,” Y/N tells him, his cheeks and neck flushed bright red.

“What is it?” Slender prods gently, tossing his soiled shirt into the laundry basket.

“W-Well. We’ve been together for a while now and I think I’m ready for us to be intimate,” Y/N explains, looking anywhere except Slender.

Slender freezes in shock at Y/N’s words, ‘staring’ at him in disbelief as his mind tries to register what he was just told. Y/N wasn’t drunk, he knew that. He had a shot and half a glass of wine, and Y/N could handle his alcohol very well so he wasn’t drunk.

“Truly?” Slender finally manages to say, his own cheeks dusted pink.

“Y-Yes,” Y/N squeaks out, holding his arms around him.

Slender moves forward and pins Y/N against the door, capturing his lips in a dee kiss as his hand locks the door. Once it’s locked his hands slip beneath Y/N’s shirt, gently rubbing his thumbs over Y/N’s perking nipples. Y/N gasps softly in the kiss, Slender wasting little time invading his mouth. Y/N lets go of a soft moan through the intimate kiss they share, Slender’s hands sliding down his sides before grabbing Y/N’s ass and lifting him into the air. Slender carries him over to the bed where they lay upon it together, Slender slipping off Y/N’s shirt as he pins Y/N’s arms above his head with a tendril. Slender lowers his head to press kisses into Y/N’s neck, sucking and biting at the flesh until he leaves marks behind.

He trails his kisses lower, swirling his tongue around Y/N’s nipples before gently biting at them. Y/N gasps softly as he squirms beneath Slender, feeling himself grow harder and harder from Slender’s attention. Slender trails kisses lower until he reaches Y/N’s pants, sliding them and his underwear off before tossing them to the side of the bed. Y/N closes his legs but not for long before Slender presses his hands against Y/N’s sides and spreads them. Slender lowers himself between Y/N’s legs, slipping his tongue between the folds of his vagina. Y/N identified as male and has been working hard to get his sex change. He had already undergone a mastectomy and was saving up to try himself changed completely. Slender was happy to pay for it all but Y/N was too stubbornly independent to allow such a thing.

Slender smiles at the thought as he trails his tongue between Y/N’s folds, flicking the tip against Y/N’s clit. Y/N gasps and squirms beneath Slender as arousal builds in his core, gritting his teeth in an attempt to muffle his moans.

“Relax, no one can hear us. I’ve sound proofed the room. Be as loud as you desire,” Slender purrs softly.

Y/N nods his head, his back arching when Slender returns to devouring him, gasping and moaning from the pleasure shooting through his body. His hands clench into fists as his toes curl, crying out when the pleasure he was feeling is suddenly taken away.

“Sl-Slender!” Y/N cries out, trembling beneath him with soft whimpers.

“Relax,” Slender purrs gently, pulling away to work off his own pants.

Y/N blushes and covers up his chest and crosses his legs as he watches Slender slip out of his pants and underwear. Y/N’s eyes widen at the sheer size of Slender, trembling slightly as he swallows the lump in his throat. Sure he wasn’t a stranger to a penis but none he had watched in porn or looked at with doctors compared to the size of Slender. Slender notices Y/N’s apprehension, climbing onto the bed and gently laying down beside him.

“Want to explore it first?” Slender asks gently.

Y/N nods and carefully moves between Slender’s legs. It was his first time and Slender understood the apprehension. He wasn’t human so he was a lot larger than the average person and he wanted Y/N to be completely comfortable with it before they went any further. Y/N wraps both his hands around Slender’s length and gently strokes it, Slender groaning in soft delight as Y/N familiarizes himself with Slender’s length. Y/N parts his lips and hesitantly licks the tip, pulling back a moment before lowering himself and licking up Slender’s length. Y/N does this a few more times before he takes Slender into his mouth, gagging and choking slightly as he awkwardly moves his head.

“Careful with the teeth,” Slender warns him gently, watching Y/N make his best attempt at getting Slender off.

Y/N’s cheeks grow sore so he pulls away with a soft gasp, Slender sitting up and pulling Y/N onto his lower stomach. Slender pulls Y/N down for a deep kiss, his hands coming to rest on Y/N’s hips.

“C-Can we take it slow?” Y/N pants softly.

“Of course,” Slender assures him.

Y/N nods and raises his hips, bracing himself against Slender as he carefully eases Slender’s length inside of him. He whimpers softly as the top penetrates his walls, trembling as he carefully brings himself lower and lower. He whimpers and pauses at the full feeling in his lower half, Slender only part way inside of him. Y/N raises his hips and lowers himself again, Slender gently grasping his hips as he resists the urge to just overtake Y/N. He couldn’t be too rough, not yet. It was only his first time after all. Y/N continues to carefully ease Slender further and further inside of him, Slender groaning once Y/N has him all the way inside. Y/N pants hard as he works to adjust to Slender being inside of him, every fiber of Slender’s being wanting to just slam him to the bed and take him.

Y/N takes a deep breath and lifts his hips before sliding back down Slender’s length, groaning softly as Slender slides in and out of him. Y/N continues to carefully ride Slender, moving his hips up and down as his walls clamp down around Slender’s length. Slender helps him lift his hips and bring them back down, a soft moan leaving Slender’s lips. Y/N pants softly as he braces himself again Slender’s shoulders, moving his hips up and down faster. Slender takes this as his cue to move, thrusting his hips upward as Y/N slides back down Slender’s length. Y/N cries out in surprise as Slender begins to move, groaning softly as Slender times his thrusts with Y/N’s. Y/N’s nails dig into Slender’s shoulders as their bodies become one over and over again.

Slender speeds up his thrusts, carefully adjusting his hips before letting go of a delighted growl when he manages to find Y/N’s g-spot. Y/N cries out and gasps from the pleasure, Slender chuckling softly as he thrusts into that spot over and over again. Y/N slumps against Slender’s chest as Slender takes over the movements, Y/N moaning and crying out from the pleasure.

“Slender!” He cries out as he feels a knot tighten in his stomach. “I’m so close!”

“Cum for me,” Slender purrs, his thrusts speeding faster to stimulate Y/N as much as possible.

Y/N cries out as Slender stills when Y/N reaches his orgasm, his walls tightening and pulsing around Slender’s length. Slender allows Y/N to come down from his high before he flips them over. He guides Y/N’s legs over his shoulders and begins thrusting into him. Slender slips three tendrils into Y/N’s drooling cavern, ordering him to suck on his tendrils. Once he was them nice and wet Slender slips those three tendrils inside Y/N’s ass, filling him completely. Slender leans down for a kiss as he thrusts in and out of Y/N. Y/N gasps and cries out from the sheer pleasure, groaning in delight as his back arches.

“You feel so good,” Slender growls out as he continues his movements.

Y/N can only cry out from the pleasure in response, Slender’s pace unrelenting as he moves inside of Y/N. Soon he has Y/N crying out from the pleasure as he hits his peak, Slender stilling as he reaches his own climax as well. Slender legs Y/N’s walls milk him of his seed before he pulls out and lies beside him. Slender guides Y/N into his chest, his lover’s heart racing as he nuzzles into Slender’s chest.

“Thank you,” Slender says, gently stroking Y/N’s hair. “Thank you for trusting me with something so important.”

“Thank you,” Y/N smiles softly as he looks up ah Slender. “I wouldn’t have wanted it with anyone else.”

“I’ll be happy to be your first and forever if you’d like that?” Slender asks him gently.

“Of course,” Y/N smiles, lifting to give Slender a kiss before he nuzzles back into Slender’s chest.

Slender smiles in soft delight, curling his large form around Y/N’s and falling into a content sleep.

~~~~

“I smell a lack of virgin! Who did it?!” Offender shouts with a grin as he barges into the kitchen.

“Do not make me throw you out of this window!” Slender snaps at Offender. “Leave him alone.”

“Oooh! You finally gave up your v-card?! Y/N, I’m so proud of you!” Offender chirps, throwing his arms around the killer.

“Offender!” Slender growls, brandishing a knife at Offender. “Off of my boyfriend!”

“What are you gonna do about it?” Offender grins, continuing to hold onto Y/N.

Y/N rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smile. Slender ‘glares’ at Offender before running around the table in an attempt to catch him. Offender grins and darts around the other way, sticking his tongue out at Slender as they play chase around the table.

“Get your ass over here!” Slender snaps.

“I refuse!” Offender sings with a smirk. “You can’t do a thing.”

Slender sighs in annoyance and settles in the seat beside me instead, brandishing his knife at Offender when he gets closer to us.

“Do it and this goes through your stomach,” Slender warns with a low growl.

“Oh fine! I was just playing,” Offender complains. “What’s for lunch?”

“Can we get Chinese?” Y/N asks hopefully.

“I want Chinese!” Ben and Jeff shout together.

Everyone else chimes in, Y/N’s cheeks flushing when Slender groans.

“Way to go,” He sighs despite the chuckle in his voice. “Everyone come tell me what you want.”

[frogs-spawn]

it’s true lads, i have actually written something

(this was a prologue of a long canon fic that i’m writing/on hiatus on (oops) but i was thinking of changing the pov of it, so this doesn’t fit in it anymore) i may end up finishing the canon one, but it is long, so it probably won’t see the light of day, but we’ll see

anyway, here’s the ao3 link if you would like to read it on there: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31116254

a tragic twist of fate:

summary: the lupin family are enjoying a quiet evening, when an unwelcome visitor shows up, changing all of their lives forever.

word count: 1.6k

The sun was setting, casting a burning haze across the sea, and subsequently over the unsuspecting cul-de-sac in the Gower. The pebble-dashed bungalows that hugged the road were quaint and uniform, with a meagre patch of grass out the front that barely constituted as a garden. All things considered; it was a very normal street. There were the Jones', with their tiny Yorkshire terrier, which was small in size but easily compensated with its tremendous bark. The Thomas', who were always out the front regardless of the weather, observing the street's comings and goings. The Liu's, whose windows were constantly filled with an assortment of different lights, illuminating the street, making it feel like Christmas every day. Opposite them, were the Lupin's. There was Lyall, who has a mysterious job that no one is quite able to figure out exactly what it entails; his wife, Hope, who made sure that the whole street was well and truly fed; finally, their 5-year-old son, Remus, who's usually found playing out on the empty street.

Remus, as expected, was having a game of tag with Julia from across the road when his mother called out from the front door. She had thick blonde hair, slightly greying at the crown of her head, which was tied up into a loose bun, the fly-always whipping the side of her face, which was covered slightly with gravy.

"Remus, it's time to come in now. Your father has just gotten home, and dinner's almost ready."

"But Mammy! I'm not even tired," Remus pleaded, shouting back, a little breathless. "Can we have a few more minutes? Please?"

"It's okay, Mrs Lupin." Julia panted, brushing her dark fringe from out of her eyes, it was a miracle she could even see. She was a few years older than Remus but was still somehow shorter than the boy (who was only slightly tall for his age). "I think my parents want me back soon anyway." She turned to Remus and smiled, "We're going to go out and play again tomorrow, aren’t we Re?”

"Yeah, okay then. I'll see you tomorrow! Bye!" Remus chirped back, with some newfound energy. He then proceeded to hurtle up the driveway and stumble through the front door.

“Not even going to give your old mammy a cwtch?” Hope laughed, following her son through the door, shoving her hands into her pockets.

He clambered onto his chair at the kitchen table and watched eagerly as his mother took a roast lamb out of the oven and began to dish it out on to mismatched plates. There were roast potatoes, which were crispy on the outside, but still fluffy and buttery on the inside, peas, carrots, and parsnips - that were roasted to perfection, and it was all smothered with thick gravy that was laden with salt and had the potential to clog up your arteries – but if it’s bad for you then that meant it would probably delicious. Remus’ mouth was practically watering.

"Now, as you've been running around all afternoon, I'll give you the extra roastie, how about that?" Hope smiled down at Remus, scooping a roast potato onto the plate.

Lyall stooped into the kitchen at that moment, placing his tattered briefcase down onto the splintered wooden counter and bent over to kiss his wife on the head. He was tall and lanky with brown curly hair that was just starting to thin. He wore deep navy robes over the top of a well-fitted suit, looking as if he had just walked out of a very important meeting. He could have been a very intimidating man if it weren't for the way his eyes lit up and his mouth formed a crooked grin when he looked adoringly across his small family, with an immense sense of pride.

"This looks wonderful, darling. What did I ever do to deserve you?" he laughed as went over to his son and ruffled his hair. "According to Mrs Thomas, you've been charging up and down the road all day! No wonder you look knackered." He fell into the chair next to him, as Hope brought the dinner over.

The family ate with easy conversation. Hope explained how she had heard from Mrs Thomas that Mrs Jones was apparently putting empty wine bottles into her recycling bin and Lyall explained his new case at work, but it seemed boring, so Remus didn't pay it much attention. He wolfed his food down so quickly, barely stopping for a breath, his poor mother thought he might end up with indigestion.

"Stay in your own lane, Lyall, that's what they said," Lyall explained in between mouthfuls, gesturing at no one in particular with his fork. "They won't believe me though, and that Greyback has been released again, the man makes my skin crawl." He used air quotes when describing him and huffed, as he took another bite out of his roast. "It's madness, I told them that. Did they listen? No. Cases of lycanthropy are going up and it's because of creatures like them. String 'em all up for all I care. Bloody werewolves.”

"Not at the table Lyall," Hope piped in, sensing that her husband was about to go on another one of his world-renowned rants. "I understand it's a pain, especially if no one listens to you at work, but let's keep dinner time a happy affair, don't you think?"

"Yeah, no, sorry love" he gave her a sweet smile, which she returned. "Anyway. Did you have you had fun today, Re?"

The boy looked up and nodded quickly. "Yeah, me and Julia played lots of games. We had a race to see who was faster. And I won!" he exclaimed, talking at the speed of a hundred miles per hour, he spread his arms for dramatic effect and sat up higher in his chair. "She said I was cheating, but I wasn't, I promise!"

"No, of course, you weren't." Lyall laughed and looked down at his son like he was the most precious thing in the world.

After dinner, the family were positioned around the small-rickety fire pit that was positioned in the corner of the patio, made up of broken slabs of concrete with weeds emerging like great vines through the gaps. The fire crackled and spat, specks of charred wood and the burning flame releasing swirling smoke into the atmosphere. They sat on wobbly wooden chairs, that they had gotten from the charity shop, which were starting to rot and covered in splinters. However, Hope had made some colourful and slightly garish cushions, so it was incredibly comfortable, despite the small risk of the chairs collapsing from underneath them. Hope was sat with a pair of knitting needles in hand, focusing on the burgundy jumper that Remus would undoubtedly get for Christmas in a couple of months time. Remus sat opposite and was looking eagerly at his father, who was making the little old wooden figurines of soldiers that Hope collected do an Irish jig across the uneven stone.

Then, there was a rustling in the undergrowth at the far end of the garden. The birds that had nested and settled in for the evening took flight, flying off into the rising moon, bright and beautiful.

"What on earth could that be?" Hope wondered out loud, staring out into the distance, squinting her eyes.

'I'll go check it out.” Lyall chuckled as he pushed himself out of the chair. "Probably just a fox, I shall go shoo it away."

He wandered to the end of the garden, managing to avoid the snail hotel Remus had built a year ago. He lit up his wand so that he could see at least three steps ahead of himself.

It was a surprise that it remained standing, despite the howling gales and torrential rain it had to endure, it stayed. For as long as he could remember, Remus looked after the snails in the hotel, gave them any leftover lettuce. They were his favourite magical creatures. It fascinated him, the way they could stick to the walls and go upside down, the only way that was possible, Remus decided, was magic. Lyall didn’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

"Ah, Lyall Lupin. Just the man I wanted to see." An unfamiliar voice snarled. The voice was deep and ragged as if it had been strained from screaming too loud "Fancy seeing you here."

“Fenrir.” Lyall cut back, voice curt but contained a small tremble. "Leave me and my family alone and take your unpleasant business somewhere else." He straightened his jacket and stood rigidly, making himself taller. But the figure, Fenrir, stood a head above him, despite his hunched posture.

"I don't think that would be necessary." He countered, his voice becoming more and more menacing. "How is your family? I'd love to meet them." He shoved Lyall out of the way, causing him to lose balance and he stumbled into the hedge.

“Hope! Remus! Get into the house and lock the door!” Lyall shouted, desperately, unable to keep up with Greyback, who was striding across the garden.

Hope quickly grabbed her things and ran, pushing open the back door with a creak.

“Remus, come on lamb, into the house.” Hope coaxed from the door, trying to sound as calm as possible.

But Remus stayed rooted to the spot, unmoving, fixed and waiting, staring into the monster before him.

Fenrir Greyback was a giant of a man, towering easily over 6 feet tall. He was unkempt and greasy, covered in black matted hair. His deceitful yellowing eyes emitting nothing venom. Remus scrambled off of the chair and edged slowly towards his mother. It was too late.

Their eyes locked. A deal had been struck.

Under the silver moon, Greyback's manic grin turned pointed and wider. Bones cracked, twisted, and popped. Hair became thicker, wired, and coarse. Tortured hands and feet transformed into gnarly claws. His previously crooked nose became a leathery, wet, snout.

Barring his teeth, Fenrir Greyback took a couple of paces forward, crushing the hotel under a monstrous paw, towards a terrified Remus Lupin.

And pounced.

[trashfor-imagines]

Loved your latest ushijima post!!! If it’s not too much trouble could I pls get an imagine where ushijima’s gf convinces him to finally get Snapchat and he starts off with random af snaps like “this cloud looks like a bunny” and THEN JUMPS TO SENDING PICS OF HIS ABS LIKE “can’t wait to see you later” 😩😩

Aaaa~ this is so cute I love it. Lets do this.

No Filter | Request

Ushijima x Reader

Warning: None.

Sitting on a park bench, you raised your long legs a bit to kick them back and forth as you scrolled through social media, enjoying an ice cream cone. It was Sunday and it was beautiful out. You tried convincing your gentle giant and his friends to come with you into town, but Ushijima shut it down quick, breaking Tendo’s spirit. Volleyball practice strikes again. Snapping a cute photo of yourself, you posted it on Snapchat in the Shiratorizawa VBC group with the caption: wish you were here, xoxo.

With a sigh, you finished up your cone, heading to the department store to buy Ushijima some new clothes. It didn’t take long for you to receive several replies of the guys taking photos of each other. You saved the one from Tendo. He’d taken a selfie with Ushijima in the background, wearing his classic muted expression. You texted Tendo.

(Y/N): Sa-Sa~~~ get my boyfriend to join snapchat! Tendo: What makes u think I can get him 2 join? (Y/N): B/c I believe in u~~~ uwu (Y/N): Besides, u got him to read shonen jump! U can do anything.

You didn’t hear back from him so you figured he was back to practicing.

After doing some damage at the stores, you finally headed back to campus with several bags in hand. You usually posted outfits you tried on and if enough people gave positive reviews, you bought it. It was a guilty pleasure of yours, but you loved getting couples outfits and taking photos of you and Ushijima wearing them, even managing a dedicated Instagram account. Being in your pictures was the closest your boyfriend got to being a part of social media.

Dropping off your bags at your dorm room, you headed to the gym to catch the end of practice. Goshiki was the first to spot you, waving in your direction. Waving back, you watched quietly, taking out your phone and posting videos of your boyfriend on Snapchat with a heart filter as he practiced his jump serves.

When practice was finished, you waited patiently for Ushijima who immediately approached you, pressing a kiss to your forehead before cleaning up the room and showering with the guys. You were in the midst of posting another selfie on Snapchat when Ushijima took your phone from you, putting it in his pocket. Pouting, you gently bumped your shoulder against his arm.

“Wakatoshi, give it back. I looked really cute in that one,” you whined.

He looked down at you and pulled you against his side, walking with you to your dorm. “You’re always cute. You don’t have to show everyone.”

“I know that you think that, but don’t other people deserve to see your cute girlfriend too?” Your pout seemed to be permanent.

“No.”

“Wakatoshi~ please get Snapchat. I’ll send you cute content all the time,” you tried to entice him.

“I’d rather see you in person.”

Skipping a few steps in front of him, you placed your hands against his chest, stopping him. Pressing your body against his, you let your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck. You stood on the tips of your toes to press kisses along his jaw. “Anata *, I just miss you when you’re not around. If you had Snapchat, you could send me pictures of things you see or like, or what you’re doing. I’ll feel closer to you.”

He was silent for a while before sighing. “Tendo says it won’t clutter my camera roll.”

You tried to not seem so excited. “He’s right. It’s very clever.”

Resting his hands on your hips, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before handing you your phone back. “Fine.”

Your eyes lit up and you jumped up, pressing a kiss against his lips.

The next morning, you woke up and checked your notifications, smiling when you gained a new follower, the name making you smile: @ushiwakaa_. Laughing to yourself, you knew this was Tendo’s doing. You smiled as you opened one of his messages to you and your heart felt warm. He had taken a picture of the sunrise for you with the caption: You always sleep in.

You sent him a selfie in reply, smiling sleepily at the camera and showing off your tousled bedhead: Sleep in with me some time!

Quickly, you took your time getting ready for school, skipping breakfast to organize the clothes you had gotten Ushijima yesterday. You checked your phone during breaks between classes, enjoying the wholesome content your boyfriend was sending you. He sent you photos of:

a leaf on the sidewalk: no caption.

a snail that was next to the leaf: Slow.

the third years on the volleyball team at breakfast: They told me you would want photos of them.

the tree outside his classroom window: no caption.

a hair clip some girl in his class was wearing: Would you like something like this?

a smiley face he drew in his notebook: no caption.

a cloud he saw outside his classroom window: This cloud looks like a bunny.

the same cloud but at a different angle: Do you see it?

Laughing softly, you wondered how you got so lucky that you ended up with him. You didn’t have much time to dwell on the thought as class ended and it was lunch time. Getting your food, you walked over to the usual table of third year volleyball boys, sitting down across from Ushijima. He preferred sitting across from you; on your first lunch date he said it was so he could enjoy looking at you. He nodded at you from behind a bowl of rice, eating peacefully.

“I love your posts, Wakatoshi,” you commented, smiling brightly at him. 

He paused for moment in acknowledgement that you spoke, before returning to his meal. Giggling, you turned to Tendo to discuss the newest Shonen Jump, slipping off your shoe and gently running your socked foot up and down Ushijima’s calf, letting him know he was the one really on your mind. Despite how confident and strong he seemed, the VBC captain was just as capable of jealousy like any other mere mortal.

You were laughing at something Tendo said when you heard the sound of a phone snapping a picture. Looking over, you noticed Ushijima on his phone. “Wakatoshi, come on! I wasn’t ready. Let me see.”

He sent you a sharp look that told you to be patient, making you pout. There were some chimes around the table and you glanced at your phone, a notification reading that @ushiwakaa_ had just sent a snap. Quickly opening the app, you saw he had posted it in the VBC group. It was a photo of you and Tendo laughing, and surprisingly it was really good. Taking your phone, you sent him a private message: xoxo.

After school, you holed yourself up in the library, working on an essay for History. You scrolled through Ushijima’s stories: a photo of the empty gym, the huge basket of volleyballs, another photo of the gym. You took a photo of your study set up and posted it to your story: Wish me luck!

You then flipped to the front facing camera, taking a pouty selfie and sending it to your boyfriend: anata i wish you were here... uwu.

Sighing, you settled in and engrossed yourself in the the life story of Nobunaga. An hour and a half into your paper, you sighed in boredom, picking up your phone and procrastinating a bit. Checking your messages, you scrolled through your different feeds, mindlessly liking images that caught your eye.

A notification appeared, telling you your boyfriend had sent you something.

Opening Ushijima’s message, your face lit up brightly. It was a selfie of him, sweaty from his workout, winking at the camera with a smirk on his lips as he raised the front of his sweaty practice jersey, revealing his blessed physique. Biting your lip, you rubbed your thighs together, taking in every defined feature on his body, from his pecs down to his adonis belt: See you later.

Quickly packing your things, you headed straight to your dorm, knowing exactly what you were going to send back.

;)

- - -

*Anata is a very intimate term of address, like calling someone “baby” or “honey”, said by females to their male significant other or husband.

[silenceofthecookies]

Hi! I’m loving these prompts (It’s hard (really hard) to believe you used to only write angst but in a way I still can, I think). May I ask prompt 9 (or 6) with Ittoki Otoya (with female reader)? Congrats again for the 100 followers! 🐌

Hi Snail Anon! Just you wait, more angst will come one day (and maybe that day will be soon, you know, with Halloween almost here... it’s perfect for some good old character death...). For now, I’m so glad you asked for Utapri! It’s something I LOVE writing for, certainly since I found the shining live game and read up some more on the wiki ❤ Enjoy! 

You woke up that morning to the sound of vomiting coming from the bathroom. At first you panicked a little. Who was in your house?! And why where they vomiting?! Opening your eyes and looking around the room, you remembered who was there. Last night, after coming home from a nice date, Otoya stayed over at your house. Cuddling in bed with him after a nice date was the best way to end the day. Waking up with his side of the bed empty, and sounds of vomiting coming from the bathroom though? That was not how you had planned to wake up.

You carefully left the comfort of your bed and walked to the bathroom to go check up on him. Otoya was bent over the toilet, pale as can be, covered in sweat, breathing heavy. You walked up to him, and gently started rubbing his back. The gesture briefly startled him, but he relaxed under the touch quickly.

“Are you ok?” “Not really. No idea what happened, maybe I ate something bad?” You reached over and checked his temperature. He was burning up. “Nope, I think this is just a regular flu.” “Oh no… I’m sorry.” “Why are you apologising?” “Because you have to see this in the morning, and we were supposed to relax together today… You can go home, if you want. I won’t blame you.” “That’s alright. Remember that time when we were kids when I threw up in your bed? Taking care of you while you’re sick can be payback. How are you feeling right now?” “Pretty bad…” “Okay, you take your time. I’ll head to the kitchen and make you something light to eat. Maybe a cup of tea as well. Come out when you’re ready, ok?” “Thanks Y/N… I’m not sure what I did to deserve you.”

The look of adoration in his eyes would have made you melt, if only his mouth wasn’t still covered in drops of vomit. You gave him an encouraging smile before leaving the bathroom, wanting to get away from the smell asap. No matter how much you loved him, and no matter how often you had seen him vomit ever since he was a kid, vomit was one of your weakness and hearing and smelling it was enough to make you a little nauseous yourself. A light breakfast for the both of you would have to do.

As the water for tea was boiling, you made some toast with jam for breakfast. Looking at the clock, you realised it was much earlier than either of you normally would’ve gotten up on a day off. Luckily, the only plans either of you had was with each other, no nobody had to be called. Just as you placed the toast on the table and poured water into the cups, Otoya arrived in the kitchen. He sat down on a chair, but you noticed he was still very pale and he seemed like he could fall over at any point.

“Have you rinsed your mouth yet, Otoya?” “I have.” “Alright. If you feel like eating makes it worse, just stop. No forcing yourself to finish it because I made it, ok?” Otoya’s eyes widened before he smiled weakly. “You know me too well, Y/N…” “I’ve known you all my life, I’d better know you well.”

Otoya and you shared a laugh before eating. With a guilty look, Otoya stopped after two bites of his toast, and you told him it was no problem. He did slowly drink his tea though. After that, the two of you moved to the couch, where Otoya could lie down and fall asleep again if he’d want to. You put a nice, relaxing movie on and sat down.

“Y/N?” You looked over at Otoya as you heard your name. “Yes?” “Can I put my head on your lap?” “Of course you can, honey.”

Otoya smiled before lying down, shifting a little until he was comfortable. You smiled down at him and gently started stroking his head. His hair was a little greasy, probably from the sweating, but you didn’t mind. A content sigh left his lips as your fingers worked their magic, and Otoya fell asleep in your lap in no time at all.

For the next two hours, you barely moved. Otoya needed his sleep, and you didn’t need to do anything anyway. As you watched the movie, you recalled exactly how you got to this point. How you met when you were little children, at school. How the two of you grew closer over the years. The moment he told you he wanted to become an idol. The moment he told you he was adopted. The moment he told you he couldn’t be in a relationship as an idol. And of course, the moment where he told you he didn’t care about that rule, and confessed to you anyway. Your first date. Your first kiss,…

Looking down at the man peacefully sleeping on your lap, you remembered all the joy he had brought you over the years. Carefully leaning down and placing a kiss on his forehead, you could only hope you brought him just as much happiness.

[cakelanguage]

Happy Holidays @vanner-och-frander ( GoodMorningMisterFear)! I'm your gifter for the @ignoctgiftexchange :D I hope this has enough fluff to make you feel like a marshmallow :)

You can also read this on AO3

--

It’s the soft glow of the sun shining through his curtains that had Noctis’ eyes blurrily blinking open. He laid there for a few moments, taking stock of everything and trying to wake up. A comforting weight pressed against his back and another wrapped around his waist to splay across his diaphragm.

Noctis turned his head and peered at Ignis’ slack features, face relaxed with lips parted. The warmth of Ignis’ breath ruffled through his hair and Noctis couldn’t help but bask in the lazy comfort. It wasn’t often that Ignis was still asleep when Noctis woke up, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t take full advantage of it when he did.

Carefully, he managed to wiggle out of Ignis’ hold and clumsily got out of bed. He instantly broke out into goosebumps and whined at the feeling of the biting cold of the wooden floors against his bare feet. It was days like this that Noctis regretted not making himself put on his lounge clothes after he and Ignis had a “night of passion,” as Ignis wanted to call it. But the delicious solace they both sucked up from the skin-to-skin contact kept him from ever following through with the thought.

He stumbled around their bedroom looking for his clothes from the night before but saw hide nor hair of them. Noctis finally spotted the sweater Ignis had been wearing and shrugged, tugging the wool over his mussed hair. The sweater hung down to the middle of his thighs and the delicate stitching felt luxurious against his skin.

He really needed to invest in getting a sweater like this or pilfer one of Ignis’ off his boyfriend permanently.

A small grumble startled Noctis out of his sweater haze and back to his sleeping boyfriend. He giggled quietly as he watched Ignis paw uselessly at the space Noctis used to occupy. Walking back over to Ignis, he pressed a kiss to the man’s temple and moved one of the pillows so that Ignis could hold onto that if he kept searching for Noctis in their bed.

Now to put his plan into action.

Noctis tip-toed to their kitchen and pulled out the book of recipes Ignis had bought for them last Christmas. Each page of the book had some note or another, whether it was an alteration to a recipe or a critique on the recipe itself.

Noctis loved it.

He loved it because Ignis went out of his way to accommodate Noctis’ picky eating. He’d take out ingredients that he knew that Noctis wouldn’t eat and substitute them for another. And if Ignis would warn him before he tried something if Ignis thought he might not like it, but something that he might enjoy if he tried it.

Not every meal was a knockout and some they had to toss because they’d turned out inedible with the adjustments they made to the recipe, but they’d laugh about it and order takeout. It was these moments in the kitchen – when classes and palace’s duties threatened to overwhelm them – with Ignis teaching him how to cook with all the patience of a saint that had butterflies fluttering in his chest and a sappy smile etching across his face.

He dutifully started their coffee machine and thanked the Astrals that Noctis had gotten them the ridiculously expensive one that barely made any noise at all as it began brewing. Ignis made a fuss over his gift but once he’d tasted a cup from the machine he’d come to treasure it. Ebony was still Ignis’ favorite but their coffee machine made a close second.

As the machine chugged away, Noctis turned back to the book and selected a well-loved page: Ulwaat berry muffins with a brown sugar streusel. It sounded fancy, but Ignis had walked him through the recipe multiple times and Noctis knew he could do it by himself.

He wasn’t anything close to an amazing chef, but he’d picked up a thing or two while helping Ignis with meals.

He shuffled around the kitchen, grabbing ingredients and setting them on the counter in no particular order, and heaved the mixer out of its corner. Nabbing an extra bowl, he started the streusel.

He measured out the oats, Cleigne wheat, cinnamon, and salt and double-checked the amount of brown sugar the recipe called for. Three-fourths of a cup was what the recipe called for, but a bit extra wouldn’t hurt. He popped some butter in the microwave and stepped away to grab a spoon.

Noisy pops from the microwave had him scrambling back over to the microwave, whispered curses leaving his mouth. He opened the microwave door and winced at the sight of melted butter splattering the inside. He glanced at the hallway that led to their bedroom and waited to see if he’d woken up Ignis already.

When a half-awake Ignis didn’t come stumbling down the hallway, he turned back to the butter and took it out of the microwave. He’ll clean it later, Noctis told himself as he shut the door and walked back over to his streusel.

From there it went fairly smoothly with only a few snafus when he’d somehow got some of the ingredients on the counter or spilled more vanilla into the batter than he’d meant to. But the batter tasted fine to him so he didn’t think he’d made the muffins inedible. He poured the batter as evenly as he could into their muffin pan and popped them in the oven.

With breakfast baking, he turned back to look at the kitchen. Flour sprinkled on the counter, batter dripping from the spout of the bowl, eggshells tossed carelessly in the general direction of the trashcan. Honestly, Noctis was proud of himself that he’d at least managed not to get anything on the floor.

Now he faced a dilemma.

He could clean his mess but then he’d wake up Ignis for sure. He debated if it was worth it or not before shrugging and grabbing his phone from the charger.

A little King’s Knight was the perfect choice to pass the time. He and Ignis could clean together later. And Ignis wouldn’t be upset about the mess if Noctis brought him coffee and breakfast in bed.

Probably.

 By the time the muffins were done, he’d leveled up twice putting him passed Prompto by a few levels which he could tease his best friend about later.

Pulling the muffins from the oven, he made a face. They looked okay, a bit oblong and there were some baking inconsistencies. Some were a little dark while others looked like they still needed to bake for a few more minutes. He pried the best looking ones from the pan with a fork, wincing as pieces stuck to the pan.

Whatever, it was the thought that counted.

Pouring a cup of coffee for both of them, he made sure to add a pinch of sugar in Ignis’ while putting vanilla creamer and sugar in his own. How Ignis could ingest the stuff plain he’d never know but he made sure to get his coffee right.

With a plate of muffins and two full cups of coffee balanced on a tray, Noctis began his trip back to their bedroom. It was a snail’s pace in comparison to how he’d usually walk the distance but he couldn’t drop any of his precious cargo.

He toed open the door and admired his sleeping boyfriend. Noctis was going to have to start waking up before Ignis if it meant getting to see him truly relaxed.

Quietly, he set the tray on Ignis’ side-table and he climbed back in bed, cuddling up to Ignis. He pressed his cold feet against Ignis’ calves and grinned at the furrowed brow he got in response. Two arms wrapped around him and tucked Noctis close against Ignis’ chest.

Ignis let out a pleased hum and burrowed his face in the nest that was Noctis’ hair. Noctis laughed and admired the kiss of a few scattered moles on his boyfriend's chest. He pressed his lips against one of the beauty marks on Ignis’ chest, granting each one with the affection they deserved. With no reaction from Ignis, he started to kiss his way up his boyfriend’s chest to his neck where he worried a small patch of skin at the juncture where Ignis’ shoulder and neck met.

“Noct,” Ignis mumbled.

Noctis blew on the reddening mark. “Iggy,” Noctis purred. He continued kissing his way up to Ignis’ chin when a pair of warm, dry lips met his. He smiled into the kiss and enjoyed the lazy, tender motions of their lips against each other.

They parted and leaned their foreheads together. “Good morning, Noct,” Ignis murmured, eyes sleep heavy and smile warm.

“Morning Iggy.”

Ignis took a few moments to sort himself. “You’re up early.”

“Or maybe you just slept in,” Noctis teased, poking at Ignis’ side.  

Ignis chuckled. “Oh is that it?”

“Must’ve worn you out.”

“Well, someone was being insatiable last night and I was doing most of the work.”

“I definitely did some of the work.” Noctis stuck his tongue out at Ignis. “And here I made you breakfast.”

Ignis’ eyes widened for a moment before they settled into twinkling mirth. “You made me breakfast?”

“I made us breakfast,” Noctis corrected, “and coffee.”

At the announcement that coffee was in the vicinity, Ignis maneuvered them so that they were leaning against the headboard. Ignis picked up the tray with an ease that didn’t belay his tiredness and moved it to his lap.

Noctis grabbed his cup and took a small sip and watched as Ignis took the first sip from his, snickering at the blissful face Ignis made when the coffee hit his tongue.  

“You always know exactly how I want my coffee,” Ignis praised, pressing a kiss to the crown of Noctis’ head.

Noctis snuggled down to lay his head against Ignis’ shoulder. “It’s not hard to remember besides,” he looked up at Ignis through his lashes, “I know you.”

Ignis made a noncommittal noise as he took another sip. "And I you, Noct."

His face felt warm, whether it was from Ignis' statement or the coffee soothing the cold that had been slowly seeping into him, he didn't know. Noctis sat up and pinched off a piece of one of the muffins, holding it close to Ignis' mouth. "Open up."

Ignis snorted and raised a brow at him. "You wish to feed me?"

"You have to be my taste tester."

"Absolutely, we wouldn't want the chef to have to taste their own food first."

Noctis shrugged. "They tasted good before I baked them," Noctis said.

Ignis gave him a dry look. "We've talked about the dangers of eating the uncooked batter," Ignis drawled as if he'd explained this numerous times before. 

He'd only told him three times, Noctis was keeping track.

"Until I get food poisoning from raw cookie dough, I'll keep risking it. Besides it was only a finger full -- just a taste."

The exasperation in Ignis was palpable but he opened his mouth dutifully and ate what Noctis fed him. Ignis chewed methodically, tilting his head as he considered the flavor.

“Well?” Noctis asked impatiently.

“It’s good,” Ignis reassured, taking Noctis’ still outreached hand and kissing his fingers. “Thank you for making me breakfast.”

Noctis grinned. “You make breakfast for me all the time, I want to do that for you when I can.”

“You did quite well, they look much better than your last attempt.”

He nudged Ignis with his elbow with a playful scowl. “I did learn from the best.”

“I didn’t know you were taking lessons,” Ignis jibed.

“I have a private teacher.”

Ignis wrapped an arm around Noctis’ waist and tucked him closer to his side. “Should I be jealous?”

Noctis tilted his head back and laughed. “Nah, I think you’d come to an understanding”

Ignis stared at Noctis’ lips. “We should get up.”

Noctis grabbed their cups and set them on his side table. “I think we’ve earned a day off.”

Humming softly, Ignis set the tray to the side. “Have we now?”

Noctis pressed a chaste kiss against Ignis’ lips and leaned his forehead against Ignis’, looking at the man from beneath his lashes. “Please?”

“I suppose an hour or two more in bed wouldn’t hurt,” Ignis conceded, pulling Noctis down to lay against his chest. “I can’t guarantee more than that.”

“I can be very convincing.”

“Of that, I have no doubt. We’ll eat the rest of breakfast in a little while.”

“Good, I worked hard on it.”

Ignis pet his hair. “And I’m sure the kitchen looks fantastic, right?”

Noctis groaned. “We can clean it later.”

His boyfriend’s chuckles vibrated through his chest. “We’ll clean later then.” 

For now, the two could bask in the calm peace that settled over them, exchanging lazy kisses with lidded eyes and whispered endearments against sleep-warmed skin. 

[okimargarvez]

REVERSE - 20

Original title: Reverse.

Prompt: Penelope is the new girl on the BAU team and Luke tries to treat her cold.

Warning: A.U., possible OOC.

Genre: drama, romantic, family, friendship.

Characters: Luke Alvez, Penelope Garcia, BAU team, Derek Morgan, O.C. Sam Cooper’ team, Roxy.

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 62 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💑😘👓🔦🐶❗🎲🎈👻🎬🎵.

Song mentioned: Amici per errore, Tiziano Ferro.

Reverse- Masterlist

GARVEZ STORIES

20 # Choose the wrong way then find your smell in all places

She didn't do it on purpose. She had no idea when she set foot in that shop. She had frequented this place for years. She was one of their best customers. This is the series of excuses that she says to herself, while her feet lead her to the bullpen, in a certainly not random point. She watches him as he prepares to leave. He is too concentrated to notice her presence. -Hello.- she greets him.

Luke automatically returns her, without taking his eyes off the bag in front of him. -Hello.- when he raises them, however, he understands who is there. Only his extreme control of the body prevents him from reacting in a more obvious and striking way. All he does outside is to slightly narrow his mouth. -Uh, Garcia, it's you.- he pretends to be indifferent. -Do you need anything?- in reality, he is describing each of her features as usual. The salmon-colored dress with a square neckline, the huge yellow flower that has absolutely nothing to do with the rest, the white jacket with black polka dots, the hair curled only on the tips, the necklace of stones (black), the brown glasses and that ridiculous, very strange transparent plastic that covers her. He is not expert enough in fashion to know the name of that business. But he doesn't think it can keep her warm. She would be much better off if she wore something like his jacket. Well, not right his own.

In the present, she is shaking her head. -Not for me.- she seems uncertain. She certainly has something in store, but he doesn't even try to imagine what kind. Garcia shrugs, taunting him. -I noticed that your desk is the emptiest of the BAU and I bet of the whole building.- she looks down, in the direction of her bag. He had been expecting such a comment for a long time, but he knows it didn't end there. -...and I happened to find...- she extracts an object, small. -This.- she puts it in front of his nose, smiling, hopeful, convinced that he will like it.

And she's right. All of Luke's self-control goes to hell, due to the mix of that figurine and the expression of Penelope. He can't decide which of the two is the sweetest. -Wow, but it's identical to Roxy.- he comments, gently pulling it out from her fingers, having enough time to see how good is the contrast between the shades of their skin. Both they also feel a shock, as usual, at that very short contact.

She is literally hopping on the spot. -It is, isn't it?- she asks, not caring about the rest of the world, about the other agents, mostly bureaucrats, who look in their direction, not understanding the reason for such enthusiasm. The man glares at them and everyone returns to do their own business. But he doesn’t realize that he has defended her.

-Yup.- he lays it on his desk for a moment. Both look at the effect on it. -Thanks.- he adds, but then withdraws it in his own bag. He wants to show it to the original for a second opinion. They head towards the elevators. Someone dares to peek at them as they pass, but as soon as Luke raises his eyes, they retreat like snails into the shell.

-You're welcome.- they stop in sync. -And how are you?- then she seems to consider it an excessively personal and perhaps annoying question (of course she does everything by herself, he doesn't reply anything, not even with a single gesture), but instead of withdrawing it, she replaces it with a more neutral one. -The case in Vermont was very bad. Don’t you think so?- he nods.

But then he shrugs. -Quite.- he has seen far worse, even if he understands what she means. As an animal lover, it is easy to sympathize with one who kills hunters. And as for the other half of the murders, it is almost tempting to consider him innocent. When they arrested him, he looked right at him, asking that they help him. He didn't want to kill. He had an illness. He sighs. Certainly she would have deserved a more comprehensive answer.

Something in the glance he gives him suggests that a declaration is coming, one with a capital D, as Chrissie would say. -I just wanted you to know that... Even if you keep thinking that I don't deserve this role, if you need to talk to someone, to let off steam, I'm here- he doesn't correct her, just because he wants to see how far she goes -even if you don't want me to.- the shock has reached stratospheric levels.

He tries to replicate something, but all that comes out is her surname. -Garcia.- who knows what the heck she reads, in his tone, because she starts again to ramble, talking fast, wandering, confusing him only more. And that desperate, lost expression not even she confessed that she loves him and he rejected her with a no thank you.

She moves her head, her hands, she passes them on her face, on her neck, then she manages to hold them still, squeezing them against her body. -I know, I exaggerated, I once again crossed the borders, but I am this.- again, she catches something in his gaze, perhaps thinking that Luke considers it an egoistic, stupid justification. -If you really can't stand it, I'll find a way to hold back.- it sounds like a promise that will cost her a lot. -But I just wanted...- she shakes her head. -I thought that after you confiding with me about Reid, that something had changed, that I had managed to scratch a little that granite heart you have in your chest.- the last sentence snatches an amused grimace from him.

The definition seems appropriate to him, and it is certain that Christine would approve. -All right, I admit it.- Garcia is right, something has changed in their relationship. Neither of them can believe that farce of him that hates her. It has become a kind of innocent game between them. With all that wandering, with her clumsy attempts to cheer him up, with that kiss on the cheek (has he perhaps forgotten it? Of course he didn’t), her light caresses, her gifts, her attentions in general... in short, yes, she deserves to hear the truth out loud. -I don't mind having you around, I'm glad you came, okay?- he watches her biting her lips, hanging from his lips. No, what he thought it is not right. She hadn't understood it, or wasn't sure. But now she knows. -But I won't stop teasing you, Penelope.- and he walks away, just as he hears the sound announcing the arrival of the elevator. She almost runs to reach him. He waits until she is on board, too, to finish. -I'm having too much fun.- this time, however, she doesn’t fall into his provocation.

She looks at him with her mouth open. -Luke?- she finally manages to stutter.

He looks at her smug. -What?- he presses the button and the doors close.

-Did... did you notice that this is the first time you use my name?- she is too genuinely happy. It is hard not to return her smile.

-Well, everyone makes mistakes.- Garcia, however, doesn’t buy it, not even at all. -Enjoy the moment.- he adds, and that's exactly what she does, dropping the bag on the ground and throwing her arms around his neck in an embrace. He feels she is about to come off, probably already regretted having ventured so much and at the same time already violated the promise she made him (and that he didn't ask her); but he stops her by holding her against him, her breast on his chest, her head on his shoulder. Neither of them moves their hands in caresses, although both would like to do it. She smells deeply the scent of his fabric softener, of Roxy, of the labors he had to face during the day. He is totally inebriated by her floral aroma that wraps him like a blanket and drives him crazy. They think the same thing. It tastes like home.

-

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