#so that prospect tickled my brain with excitement

[sokokoko]

"I'll take a two day break and not write anything until Nano."

"Oh, wow, I don't like this. Let's draw to release my creative juices so my mind doesn't feel too constricted!"

7 pages of drawings appear. The clock turns from the perfectly reasonable 8pm to 2am. All I did was blink.

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 4: wax play | rosekiller

smut

TW: piv, wax play, multiple orgasms, handcuffs, oral fem receiving

“Hey Gremlin!” You rolled your eyes as Barty made his entrance in your dorm room, Evan trailing behind him.

“You know, I don’t understand why you can’t use some cute nicknames like every other boyfriend”

“Oh, stop complaining, we got you a present” This sparked your attention. You turned on your chair, facing them.

“You’re such a little minx, only paying us attention when we get you presents. Such a spoiled brat”

You stuck your tongue out at Evan. “Stop acting like a little bitch and give me my present, please?” You made puppy eyes at Evan, who handed you the bag.

“You have such an attitude for being so little”

You chose to ignore the blonde guy, reaching inside the bag, and blushing immediately when you saw what it contained, your boyfriends exchanging a devilish smirk.

You held two pairs of pink handcuffs in one hand and a candle in the other, your eyes widened at the sight. “Already loosing your attitude? Thought it would take a little bit more effort” It wasn’t that you were scared about was coming, but more about the fact that you didn’t have a clue about what they had in mind.

“What is the candle for?” They both smirked, Evan reached for your cheek, caressing it softly.

“It’s not a regular candle, baby, it’s a special one. You see, if you were to touch the wax, you’d feel the sting, but you wouldn’t have any medical repercussions, no risk of getting burned or developing infections.”

Suddenly you understood well what was about to come, and the prospect scared you as much as it excited you. The sex between you three had always been rougher than the average vanilla couple, but they didn’t try anything this kinky until now.

“What do you say, baby, do you want to try?” You hummed slightly, still not totally convinced. “If you don’t want to it’s fine, we can do other fun things, you know?”

You shook your head. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just… What if the pain gets overwhelming? Like, how can you tell if I’m just playing the part or if I’m really hurt and I want it to stop?”

Barty took your hand into his, kissing your fingertips.  “Love, we were about to say that if we’re trying this, we have to set a safe word” You looked at him confused. “Basically, we’re going to establish a word that you’re going to use only if it gets too much and you want to take a break or stop altogether. You have to choose one and tell us” Now that they were putting it like this, you didn’t have any reason to stop this.

“Okay, I want to try it. I think my safeword could be ‘mango’”

“Perfect love. Now, lay back” You did as you were told, both securing one of your wrists to the bedpost, the fuzzy material tickling the skin of your wrist. Evan placed a soft kiss on your lips, the contact alone making your head spin with need, while Barty started teasing you through your already wet panties.

You saw Evan reaching inside of his pocket for his lighter, his black-coloured thumb lighting it up, the motion somehow sexy. Once the candle was lit, you prepared yourself for the wax, but it didn’t come. Instead, Barty teared apart your panties, sucking your clit gently, making you gasp.

Meanwhile, Evan had started playing with your nipples, pinching them softly, eliciting soft moans from you. It was only when you were already lost in pleasure that you felt the first drop of wax on your flat stomach, you felt your brain short-circuiting, the sharp pain mixed with the intense pleasure made a quite pleasuring combo, you moaned slightly.

“Pass me the candle, Barty” As your pussy was still under attack, Evan poured some drops on the skin of your breasts, making you shiver in both pain and pleasure. You felt Barty’s finger probing your entrance, as he dragged it painfully slow, still sucking in a rapid rhythm your clit.

When Barty curled his finger, caressing your G-spot, you couldn’t help but cum all over his face and fingers. “Already coming for us, pet? You’re being so good for us, such a good girl” You moaned at Barty’s praise. “She tastes so sweet, Evan, come taste her.” And just like that, the two guys were making out just above your head, while they let wax drip in the valley between your breasts, making you whimper slightly.

“How are you feeling, doll?” As you were about to respond, Crouch let some was  “accidentally” drip on your mound, making you scream. At this point you couldn’t tell anymore if the sensation was pleasurable or painful. “Words, doll, or we won’t understand”

He kept letting wax drip on your skin, as you force a flebile “good”. Even though you pretended to hate it, you secretly loved when they were acting a little bit sadistic, their faux compassion making you feel helpless. You saw Evan putting on a condom, and after a few seconds he entered you harshly, making you gasp. “Sorry love, you just look so sexy like this.” Barty kept dripping wax on your body, now following a specific pattern you couldn’t make out.

You felt your head being shifted to lay on the blonde’s shoulders, while he picked up a relentless rhythm, his thumb pressing down on your clit, eliciting a few moans from you.

Barty leaned down, kissing your lips softly, then making the wax drip directly on your nipples, his mouth muffling your screams. He tasted like mint and tobacco, the mix always making your head spin.

When he started playing with your nipples you knew you were gone for good. “I’m- Oh my god, Evan, fucking hell” He found that special spot inside of you that made your eyes roll back in your head. “Going to come”

You did, milking his cock, his orgasm following right after yours while Barty released himself all over your tits.

Still blissed out, you felt a flash on your skin, making you open your eyes. You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at your belly: right on your stomach there was a big “E + B” written in purple was, Barty’s cum covering your breasts right above it.

“Gonna make this my wallpaper AND lockscreen”

“Motherfucker, that was MY idea first”

You decided to not interfere in their bickering, your orgasm lulling you into a deep, peaceful sleep, knowing that they were going to clean you up.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky @barnesandmetal @just-here-for-ff @sammyreid @remussbitch @randomcreator-09

[emmyrosee]

IM ON MOBILE AGAIN SO IM GONNA SPAM THE EYE EMOJI TO MAKE UP FOR EARLIER READY?

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

okay done </3

AND YAYAYAY ILY TOOO!!!!

AND OK HERE IS ONE OF THE KITA THOUGHTS I WAS SAVING!!!! HE IS FREE. RELEASED BACK TO YOU!!!

I KNOW kita is your husband, but I am humbly asking you to share him for a brief moment 🙏🏻😔🤲🏻 I come to you today not with a ramble but a question:

does kita play fight? does he like it? is he more likely to react when you’re being a bit of a menace? will he pick a fight unprompted? (Okay that’s like 4 but I have him on the brain lately)

ILY !!!!!!!! ENJOY THE FOOD ^

anon <3

*sigh* I gUESS I could share him for a moment, bc I would be cruel to keep him all for myself 🫡🧡

But listen, okay. You know me. I’m crazy. I’m built different. I ruin characters.

And I know, deep down in that pretty head of Kita’s, he likes to play fight.

It’s more subtle than the others, it takes a lot more to rile him up for it, but once you get him there, it’s just. It’s perfect, okay, because it’s fun and there’s no stakes and he’s gentle enough to let it happen, but he knows you like the back of his back hand, and he knows what it takes to bring you down.

It’s the same mischievous excitement that his old teammates used to harbor, a desire to tease, to mess with respectfully, and although he never thought he’d do such juvenile forms of affection, something about the way you get him into this animalistic excitement that he usually tries to keep composed, it has him just as eager for your defiance as you are.

And he doesn’t go full out all the time. It’s a lot of manhandling to get you under his frame before either teasing you with the prospect of tickling until you plead for him to just get it over with, or spanking you in a playful manner to have you screaming in embarrassment, it’s all based on teasing you because ultimately, that’s what Kita Shinsuke does best, and you can thank his years of forcing himself to be stoic for it.

It’s working him up to that point that take the bit of elbow grease. But it sure is worth it.

“Did you take my leftovers?”

“Sure did,” you hum cockily. He furrows his brows slight and looks back at the empty container, trying to think of why you’d do that.

“I’m glad you ate, but… I’m a little upset because I was saving those-“

“Yeah, I did it because I wanted you to chase me.”

This, of course, has his brows shooting up in surprise, and he tries to fight the corners of his mouth curling up in excitement and amusement.

“Well,” he begins, setting down the container and taking a step towards you. You start giggling, and match him with a step back. “Had you just asked me to chase you, I would’ve said yes. But now-“ another step forward, watching your feet carefully to indicate the direction you’re gonna dart. “I’m not showing an ounce of mercy.” He cocks his head slightly as you whine excitedly, hands coming up to your chest in an almost protective manner. “Brat.”

“Shinsuke!” You scream, though it’s prompted with you quickly turning to run away, unable to control the excited laughter that pours from your lips. He chuckles, tosses the container into the sink before washing his hands, drying them, and immediately trying to go and find your hiding spot.

You’re never difficult to find, the apartment has 13 great hiding spots and you’ve managed to work your way into all of them at some point, but clearly, you’re not so determined to keep hiding as you’re found in spot #4, literally curled under the clothes in his closet.

He pushes them to the side, props his hands on his knees and leans in real close, smirking softly while you whine nervously. “Hi, my love.”

“Go away!”

“Why must you provoke me?” He sighs, making a reach for you while you dodge and try to scramble away. “We could be so affectionate like normal couples, but instead, you’ve got to poke every nerve a bear has.”

“Leave me alone!” You squeal, but he does the exact opposite as he uses his massive arms to pull you up and out of the closet and over his shoulder, completely immune to the kicking and writhing of your body on his arm. He tosses you onto the bed before crawling over your frame, pinning you under his massive body with a smirk.

“We both know that’s not what you really want, isn’t it?”

But but bUT BUT OKAY, BUTTA BUTTA BUT, Shinsuke’s not a man of stone. Despite you being the common denominator for any act of play fighting, on the rarest occasions, the phases of the moon change, when the planets align, he comes to you.

And he doesn’t provoke you, he’s not a menace, all he’ll do is come up to you with a big, sweet grin on his face, knock his head against your temple, and when you purr and just think he’s being affectionate, he whispers words you relish every time.

“Hey… wanna fight?”

“Physically, or emotionally?” You tease, but you feel the shrill of excitement down your spine as he tugs at the hem of your shirt eagerly. He chuckles and shakes his head, clearly wanting to let some of the rare energy he’s got bottled out.

“I want to pin you down.”

“Excuse me!” You scream, pulling away in shock and smacking his chest, cheeks blazing hot and grin plastered wide on your cheeks. “Shinsuke!” You giggle, trying to make a move to walk away (although it’s truly a way to encourage his chase) and your heart beats faster as he follows. “What has gotten into you!”

“I’m allowed to have my feral moments as well.” He doesn’t say much else before he smiles, an innocent gleam in them as he makes a lunge for you.

And if chasing you around the house and making you scream with laughter is what he needs to do to feed that feralness, who would you be to deny?

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: smut, sex pollen, dubcon?? (only cause of the sex pollen, but both parties are very willing), vaginal fingering, slight public sex, multiple orgasms, slight bondage, language

Word Count: 3.6k

"Behind!"

With a sharp glance over your shoulder, you were barely able to catch sight of a blade rushing towards your upper half. The warning gave you just enough time to lean back in an attempt to dodge a certain hospital trip.

The elongated knife almost cut off your lower arm, just scantily grazing the fabric of your hero outfit before retracting back into the villain's throat.

Gravity overpowered your body, creating the perfect opportunity for your own opponent.

She made a successful grab for your elbow, but you took advantage of your still wobbling form, using her weight to bolster yourself upward before ushering a swift kick to her temple.

Unable to dodge, the villain tumbled to the ground, allowing you to maneuver her limbs to an imprisoning position.

Panting, you pushed a foot into the back of your now grumbling adversary, using your free arm to re-tuck a sweaty strand of hair back into place.

"Sorry about that!"

You glanced up as red feathers descended from the sky, replacing your hands as temporary cuffs.

"Yeah, what happened to 'I'll take care of those three.'" You scoffed, dropping your voice a few octaves to imitate the winged pro.

"Still true." Hawks gestured behind him, where blade-spitter and two others sat captured in his crimson plumage. "I just wanted to make sure my favorite sidekick was on her A-game."

Releasing your grip on the woman, you offered your partner an over exaggerated eye roll. "And you couldn't have done that without the prospect of getting my face chopped in half?"

One of his feathers tickled your nose before being promptly swatted away. "Oh, come on. You know I love your face way too much to ever let that happen."

"Whatever." You muttered, trying to ignore the heat building up your neck at his words. Although meaningless, the flirtatious quips always managed to cruelly pull on your heartstrings. The relationship between the both of you would never surpass that of friends, a fact you had gradually come to accept, even though it didn't make it hurt any less. "Let's just hand these guys over. I don't wanna be stuck in a meeting with Endeavor past eight again."

The Flame Heroes gatherings were never very exciting, but you supposed they were necessary.

Crime rates were steadily increasing, along with the multitude of different, powerful quirks being registered. In light of this, the conferences had become a weekly occurrence.

They usually consisted of a rundown of recently imprisoned villains and their individual abilities.

And although it was pretty bleak, they were still a requirement for your job, which you took very seriously. Therefore, you forced yourself to focus when the time came.

Until today, that is.

"...of his quirk: knife tongue. Possible links to the League or other..."

The valuable information flowed through your brain, getting stuck in the webbing of your mind in little, most likely useless, tidbits.

"...physical contact to transfer, so make sure to..."

The rest had turned into muffled blabber under the veil of your detached train of thought.

You really should have been paying attention, especially for the part about the most recent villain you had apprehended. That way you could at least try to look professional if questioned about the take down.

Adrenaline still seemed to be coursing through your veins, an all natural performance enhancer that left you jumpy a few minutes after a fight.

It had never lasted this long, though.

In fact, there seemed to be a few physical abnormalities affecting you at the moment.

Trembles coursed through your usually steady limbs, translating into tiny shakes in your arms and legs.

Another was the heat.

The room seemed to be unnaturally hot. This ever increasing warmth had completely overtaken your attention span, even going as far as to hush the first few callings of your hero name.

Hawks nudged your shoulder with his, breaking your distracted stupor.

You looked up to see everyone glancing in your direction. Much to your dismay, this included the smoldering gaze of the current number one.

"Are you alright?" Endeavor's voice boomed.

"Yes!" The sound came out a little two shrill for your liking. "Yes, I just need to use the bathroom. Excuse me, please."

So with a small bow, and the absence of any sort of confirmation from your boss, you were out, rushing down the hallway on quivering legs that threatened to fail at any moment. It was a wonder they were able to carry you to the laboratories at all.

You nearly fell into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you before leaning on the wall for support.

"Breath." You whispered. "You're fine, you're fine, you're fine."

The individual affirmations did nothing to quell your problem dilemma.

On the contrary, the air around you seemed to be growing hotter by each passing moment. It's humidity filled your lungs in the most unsatisfying of ways.

Something sparked in your lower abdomen at its steamy infiltration, the tiny flicker glaring brighter with every breath.

You hastily shoved yourself off of the wall, grabbing onto the sink and placing the faucet to the coldest setting.

Cold water splashed up onto your face, but it only offered momentary relief. Soon, your skin had gone back to its prior simmer.

Fuck, why isn't this working?

Panic had your train of thought careening off the track. It had sent you into a frenzy of questions.

What was happening?

What should you do?

Where you going to die from this?

The only thing you knew for sure was that you couldn't stay here for much longer. Anywhere that wasn't public sounded acceptable at the moment.

But as you flung open the door, Hawks' fist, waiting midair and ready to knock, met your sight.

Bronze irises met your own as the previously flitting gleam in your core flared to the next power.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

Yes, you may have possibly sustained a tiny crush on your superior over the last few weeks. And yes, you had possibly allowed the fantasy of his touch to flit through your mind every once and a while. Still, your one-sided attraction was in no way, shape, or form to this magnitude.

The mere sight of him had never segued into this level of intense lust. And it also most definitely never made you feel like your skin was about to melt off.

That wasn't normal.

However, as he gently grabbed your face and pulled it closer for inspection, you could just barely repress the whine bubbling up at the minor contact.

"Shit, what happened to your eyes? They're crazy dilated."

"What are you doing here?" You blurted, a feeble attempt to avoid his question.

"I offered to check on you." He replied, going back to his examination. "You're super warm too."

"Isn't it hot in here? I mean, do you feel hot out here?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "It's February."

Yep, definitely not normal.

"Hold on, did you..." When he leaned forward, you were almost sure it would be the last straw. His stare would be the thing that truly set your already molten form ablaze. "Did the villain get you with her quirk during your fight?"

Usually, you would've never admitted to inattentiveness during a meeting, much less in front of your boss, but you were getting increasingly desperate. "Could you, um, remind me of what it is, please?"

Amusement spread over his features as he leaned back, anticipating your reaction.

"Standard aphrodisiac."

As the words left his mouth, any hope of this being any sort of typical fever shattered.

Stimulant quirks were quiet rare in terms of documentation, but surprisingly severe when handled inappropriately.

In the best form of words, it was a very 'fuck or die' situation, whereas the 'die' part translated into a few weeks of bed rest. This also meant a few weeks out of hero work, making the situation very serious.

So one could imagine your irritation when you heard a quiet snort from the man in front of you.

You looked up, shooting him a glare that rivaled the simmer of your current physical state.

"Sorry, lovebird." Hawks chuckled, throwing up his hands in surrender. "Seriously, though, do you remember anything she did that might've looked like a transfer?"

You thought about it, trying to place your buzzing mind back to the fight. "I don't know. I mean, it was over pretty quick, but I didn't see her do anything unusual."

"Endeavor said that the quirk is passed through physical contact, but you're..." The words 'all covered up' fizzled away as his scanning gaze landed on your forearm, or more so, the tiny rip in your costume located there. "Well, that's not good."

"No, shit." You sighed, trying to focus your energy on keeping your breathing steady.

"So, are you super turned on too? Or just hot?"

"Hawks!"

"Okay! Okay, I'm sorry. Come on, we need to get you to a doctor." He pulled your wrist, but you planted your feet firmly on the ground, momentarily halting his movements.

"No! I don't- I mean, I can't-"

"Embarrassed?" The inquiry was seemingly sincere, but it didn't match with the mockingly innocent tilt of his head.

At any other point in time, you would've easily batted away his teasing, but the tantalizing tone sent warmth streaming to your thighs.

"Do you have anyone that you can call?" He lifted your arm, propping open the ripped cloth to look for any blemish

fuck, he has really nice fingers

or mark left behind by the quirk user. "Or do you need me to call a professional?"

You shook your head. "No, I..."

I want you.

Your line of sight unconsciously wandered down to his lips for a moment. Upon noticing, you averted your gaze, but he took notice of the minuscule gesture.

"Oh." His usually bright smile turned downcast and you weren't sure why. It was still present, though, probably for your benefit. "Look, I know you think you might want to, but that's probably because of-"

"The quirk? No, it's not..."

"But it could be." He sighed, running a hand through his curls. It was faint, but hurt was clearly lacing through his tone. "I just don't want you to hate me when this is over. You... I need you to call someone who you seriously want to help with this, yeah?"

Verbal nausea seemed to have been added to the list of influential physical aspects of the power. Its invisible fingers picked at your vocal chords, fueling your frustration until it almost began to overpower the heat. "I've liked you for weeks, okay? And I know there's no way you feel the same, but dammit, there's no one in this whole entire city that I would rather be with, so stop being dense!"

Silence, heavy and potent, filled the air in the wake of your confession. The relief of getting it off your chest lasted milliseconds before humiliation shot through you.

Salty tears were threatening to fall, conjured from frustration and embarrassment; it took the last of your mental prowess to push them back.

Your unintentional words had ruined a perfectly thought out career in less than seconds. Even if you weren't demoted, there was no way that your friendship with Hawks would ever be the same.

Screw figuring this out.

Maybe a few weeks in bed would actually be good.

But as you moved to turn around, the arm still wrapped around your wrist gave a tug, pulling you back to face his direction.

Golden eyes searched yours for any sort of dishonesty, any sort of hint as to if desire what affecting the accuracy of your words. And while your desperation was ever increasing, he found none.

And then you being hauled to his office.

Shit, shit, shit, shit.

Am I getting fired?

Hawks could be an asshole sometimes, sure, but it would be a massive dick move to terminate you right now.

You were dragged into his office before he released his hold on you, turning around to close and lock the door while you inspected your surroundings.

It was quite spacious, but with the amount of zeros on his paycheck, one wouldn't be surprised. With its white furniture and organized layout, the room was able to achieve a very modern style.

Floor length windows spanned across two of the walls, allowing the pinks and yellows of an early sunset to filter through.

They were mirrored on the other side. You knew because a few months ago, Hawks had flown straight into them, thinking one of the sliding glass doors had been left open. At his request, they had been altered less than a few days later.

Apparently, avian quirks could also translate into some other bird-like characteristics, a fact that you had eagerly pestered him for.

The fond memory was immediately followed by a grimace.

Was this really the end of your friendship?

Yes, it hurt to know that you wouldn't amount to anything more, but it would sure hurt a lot more to stop spending time with him completely.

"Hawks." You started, but the words never came. As it turned out, the only understandable statement that your sizzling brain could come up with was the one that would end up with you jobless.

You were just so unbelievably hot, not to mention way too turned on for a serious conversation right now, especially not with him.

At this point, you needed help. But even in your haste, you paused at his thoughtful expression.

And even though it was short lived, the hesitation gave him just enough time to deduce whether or not you were telling the truth and more so, what to do with that vital piece of information.

His lips met yours.

You gasped at the sudden gesture, but he quickly swallowed the sound, cupping your jaw in one of his hands while the other found its way around your waist. Already trembling limbs turned to putty in his arms as you returned the kiss.

The feeling of his mouth against yours was bewitchingly captivating. It possessed a siren-like allure that overpowered your corporeal need for oxygen.

It was all that much worse when he pulled away seconds later.

"How could you ever think I wouldn't feel anything for you?" He paused, seeming to ponder something for a few seconds before continuing. "Keigo."

"Keigo." The sound felt nice as you tested it out for the first time, a refreshing breath of air contrasting against your blistering atmosphere. You had never imagined hearing his real name, something that had been kept tirelessly out of the media.

"Mhm." He confirmed. "I figured it would be good information to have."

With gentle guidance, he led you over to his desk, propping your body up so his gaze was level with yours. Bronze eyes, once kind and playful, fervidly darkened.

"That way you'll know whose name to scream when I fuck you senseless."

The words barely had time to grace your comprehension before he was kissing you again, hands keeping a steady position on your waist.

His tongue grazed over your lower lip, a wordless request of access that you gladly granted.

With every passing second, every flick of his tongue against yours, you descended further and further into mindless bliss. Desire was beginning to completely fog over your senses as his hold became your only tether to this reality.

His kiss descended past your jaw, trailing across its edge before moving on to your exposed collarbone, sucking and biting like it would be the last time he would ever enjoy human contact.

The quirk had left you over responsive to his touch. Your breathing accelerated when his lips latched onto a sensitive area. With his impeccable hearing, and the way he smirked into your neck, it was pretty obvious he noticed too.

Dexterous fingers unbuttoned the top of your pants, toying with the waistline as he pulled away to meet your gaze.

At your fervent nod, his hand descended below your stomach, barely grazing your clit through your underwear. The minuscule bit of contact sent a shiver up your spine.

Ever attentive, he took notice, pressing down on the already stimulated area and forcing a moan from your throat. Instinctively, you raised a palm to muffle the embarrassing noise, but his feathery bindings got there first, hardening around your wrists and securing them to the table.

"Fuck, you're sensitive."

"Keigo!"

"Don't worry, sweetheart." He grinned wickedly, sneaking his hand beneath the fabric to nudge you slit. "Just curious what sound you'll make when I do this."

He effortlessly dipped a finger into you, pumping it at a steady pace before following with another, making sure to keep his thumb trained to your clit in a tortuously slow rotation. His efforts, much to his delight, were rewarded by a blatant whine.

"Good girl." He praised. "Do you know how infuriating it is to be around you all day and not wonder what your pretty little moans would sound like?"

Pleasure coursed through your body with each thrust, the chord growing tighter until it was just whispered stroke away from breaking.

"Kei-"

With a curl of his fingers, you were silenced, the final syllable of his name dissolving into a low groan.

It wasn't long before you were unraveling on his hand, already close from the quirk itself. The coil in your stomach snapped, offering a release that had your vision flickering.

Still, it wasn't enough.

The fire in your core had merely dimmed for the moment and was threatening to flare up to its previous roar again, especially when you saw him begin to undo the stop of his jeans.

His instantly caught onto your line of sight and he let out a short laugh, coming forward to tilt your chin upward and forcing your gaze to meet his.

"Aww." He chided, golden eyes wide in sinful delight. "So needy, huh?"

The tantalizing tone had your thighs clenching, the soft beat above them begging to be satisfied.

"Please." The sound itself was pathetic, a far cry from your usually unbothered persona. In another world, you would've minded, but your abdomen felt like it was about to burst into flame. The heat was still present, an ember-less wildfire that only his embrace could quell.

Thankfully, he seemed more than willing to help.

After eagerly discarding your own undergarments, he carefully aligned himself at your entrance, slowly entering you at a speed that had your mouth watering. It was utterly antagonizing, pleasurable relief just moments away.

Immediately, you found yourself unconsciously lifting your hips to meet his, desperate for any kind of friction. Keigo chuckled at motion, but took pity on your wordless plea, beginning to rock himself into you at a steady pace.

"Fuck, I thought you were pretty before." His thumb found your clit again, rotating around the nub in slow, gentle circles. "But you look so much better under me."

His free hand pushed under the top of your hero suit, exploring your skin like it was some foreign treasure before wandering upward. His fingers skimmed the top of your breast, pulling it out of your bra to need to supple flesh. The light pinch of your nipple spurred another aroused exhale.

His established rhythm began to quicken, fueled by pure desire. Every kiss to your cervix had you steadily growing closer, filling you to the brim with pleasure that you internally begged to spill over.

One final push had you tipping over, the cruel ecstasy finally hitting its peak.

Euphoria flooded over every crevice of your body. Your walls fluttered around him as your high was met, offering a soft convulsion that allowed him his own release.

In the midst of senseless bliss, you took notice of the way the atmosphere seemed to normalize. Your previously smoldering body soon regained its usual temperature, chilled by the winter climate.

Your heart was coming down from acceleration too. The only word that was adequate to describe the feeling was that of pure relief.

Physical relief from the heat; sexual and emotional relief from previously though to be unrequited emotions.

Still, as he slowly pulled out and helped you back into your suit, you realized that you didn't know what would happen next. Whatever had just happened was definitely not how you imagined your relationship starting.

"So, this doesn't have to go on record, yeah?" The statement, although partly serious, was more so a light quip of sarcasm, something you relied on to hide under your nerves.

Keigo had grown to recognize the mechanism, playing along into his own intentions. "I don't know. I mean, if you're gonna be my girlfriend, we'll have to bring it up with HR anyway."

You perked up at her words. "You really want me to-"

"Obviously." He smirked, picking you up and gently plopping you on his couch. "And don't think I forgot about the whole 'you having a crush on me for weeks' thing."

Warmth, the normal kind this time, bloomed up your neck as you averted your gaze. He laughed at the bashful gesture, a sound you had grown to love just as much as the individual himself.

"Aww, don't be embarrassed. I thought it was cute. Besides," he cupped your face, peppering your cheeks with kisses before leaning back and allowing you to glimpse the adoration brimming within his expression. "you've been on my mind just as long."

[r1ddlessy]

insecurities with edward nashton

warnings:soft dom edward, oral (f receiving), embarrassingly long, odd paragraph choices

"eds, i'm not really up for it tonight." you admitted softly, crossing your arms over yourself protectively. edward's brows furrowed in concern, touching his lips as if they hurt you.

"did i do something wrong, baby?" he asked meekly. your heart sank and you shook your head quickly.

"you did nothing wrong, it's just i'm not really confident in my body at the moment." you avoided his gaze, almost embarassed to admit it out loud. edward frowned.

"why wouldn't you be confident? you're the most beautiful woman i've ever laid my eyes on." he spoke with such earnestness it made your face burn.

"i just don't think you wanna see it..." you trailed off with a soft sigh and edward shook his head.

"the first time you showed me your body, i felt like the luckiest man in the world. now you think i wouldn't want to get that chance again? makes no sense to me, baby." he stepped closer once more, closing the gap between you. "do you seriously think i could have anything but praise for your beautiful self?" he asked softly. you shook your head. his warm breath tickled your ear as he leaned in close to whisper.

"can i show you how beautiful you are?" you were nodding before you knew it, your body already excited by the prospect of him touching you. edward shook his head, one hand reaching out to cup your face and the other settling warmly on your hip.

"i need you to use your words tonight, baby." he chastised gently and you felt warmth flood between your legs.

"want you to show me, please." you managed to respond thickly. edward smiled contently.

"that's a good girl. do you want me to show you with my hands or my mouth?"

he pulled his hand away from your face. you practically whined at the loss of touch. edward raised an eyebrow. you received the message loud and clear.

"mouth, please." you whimpered. edward nodded and slowly pulled your shirt off, giving you time to back out if you wanted to. instead, you raised your arms to assist him. next, his deft fingers undid the button of your jeans and pulled them down your legs until they pooled at your ankles.

"lie back on the bed." he instructed and you obeyed, looking up at him with anticipation as he tugged your jeans off completely and tossed them into the corner of the room. "you're being so good for me, baby." he smiled and crawled on top of you, hovering his body over yours. your body responded to his praise as you pushed yourself up for more contact but he gently pushed you down, nudging you with his chin. once you were down he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

"i love your incredible brain." he kissed both your cheeks. "i love kissing you here when i'm leaving for work 'cause i know i'll come home to do the same." you giggled and he silenced you with a tender kiss on your lips. "i love kissing your lips because they're so soft and they say such sweet things." he trailed kisses down your jaw and down your neck, only pulling away after placing one on the swell of your breast. "i love your kind heart and the beat it makes just for me."

you whimpered as his kisses trailed down closer to where you wanted him the most, but to your dismay he only pressed a chaste kiss to the soft section of your belly right above the edge of your underwear. he looked up at you with a grin. "i love putting my hand here and feeling your warmth when we cuddle." he kissed down your legs to your ankles.

"i love feeling your beautiful legs wrapping around my neck while i eat your pretty pussy." you gasped and the wanton look in your eyes told edward everything he had to know. he wouldn't give it to you so easily however.

"is that what you want, baby?" his thick fingers hooked on to the waistband of your underwear as he looked into your eyes. you nodded fervently and he shook his head, removing his fingers. you instantly whined and edward gave you no relief.

"want you to eat me out,please!" you were practically begging and edward smirked, finally content as he pulled down your underwear.

"good girl. is that all for me?" he teased as his eyes trailed to the slick arousal between your thighs.

"all for you." you nodded fervently, looking up at him like he was your saviour as you spread your legs. edward stared shamelessly. his head dipped until he was an inch away from your pussy, and as he looked up at you with adoring eyes his tongue darted between your folds. you moaned as he circled around your clit, his tongue savouring your pussy like it was his first meal in weeks.

before you knew it your legs were wrapped around his neck, pushing him further into you and he gasped against you although the look in his eyes told you he wasn't upset by it. he kissed your clit then looked up at you with a shit-eating grin but before you could complain at his teasing he dived back in. his fingers parted your lips for him as you whined at the combined sensation. his lips wrapped around your bundle of nerves and suckled and you swore you could see stars. or maybe a halo around the head between your legs.

"are you close, baby?" he asked as he pulled away to look up at you, lips puffy and eyes twinkling.

"so fucking close." you moaned and thrust up into his face, begging for contact and he obliged greedily. edward smirked as he felt your legs shake around him and heard your moans getting louder before you came on his face. your face warmed as he licked the residue of your juices around your thighs. you sighed and smiled hazily down at him as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand.

"thank you for that. you really made me feel beautiful." you said softly. edward made a flippant gesture then grinned.

"let me know anytime you need a reminder, beautiful."

[navegandoaciegas]

Not so shy now

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Summary: You’ve been pushing Bucky’s buttons for days, and he finally snaps.

Warnings: smut, 18+, watersports, omorashi, dom!Bucky, brat!reader, a lil’ bit of humiliation and daddy kink, outdoor sex, rough sex.

A/N: I don’t usually write dom!Bucky, but I hope you’ll like this!

You weren’t one for the outdoors, that Bucky had found out the hard way a couple hours into your mission together, being the sole witness to your bitching and complaining for hours on end.

10 days later, all he wanted to do was bludgeon you to sleep until the mission was over.

Or alternatively, fuck you stupid until you’d all but forget about your backpack being too heavy, the bugs being gross, the blisters in your feet too painful and the meals too bland.

He’d been painfully hard for days and his ears just needed a break from your endless complaints, and stuffing your loud mouth with his aching cock seemed like a practical solution to both problems.

And Bucky was nothing but a practical man.

“Barnes,” you huffed, voice coming out in a childish whine, “Bucky? Buck? Let’s take a break, I need to pee.”

And of course, the biggest problem that had surfaced in your time together: you drank like a camel but your bladder had the capacity of a toddler’s.

“You went less than an hour ago, you can’t be serious right now.”

You, on the other hand, watched in amusement as Bucky turned around, a murderous glint in his eyes. You wondered how much more he could take, how much more you could push, until your grumpy but collected colleague would finally snap.

You felt giddy with excitement imagining all the ways that vibranium arm of his could put you in your place. Would he slap you, choke you, pull your hair? Would he be condescending or mean, how much would he degrade you, and most importantly how much could you take before you broke?

“I couldn’t really go,” you shrugged, feigning innocence, “I was scared that a bug would crawl up my ass, to be honest. And I have a shy bladder, you know. Can’t pee if you’re hovering behind the trees.”

“I wasn’t hovering,” he cried out in disbelief, crossing his arms over his middle.

You smiled wryly, following the flexing muscles of his bulging biceps with your eyes.

“You kind of have a hovering problem, Barnes. A staring one too but we can unpack all that later, I really need to pee right now.”

You stomped over to him, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and hitting him square in the chest with it, mumbling a ‘thanks’. He let out a wheeze, stumbling back as you kept walking.

“You fuckin’ brat,” you heard him grumble, “Been gettin’ on my damn nerves all week.”

You heard a loud thump behind you, and before you could turn around, you were yanked by the arm, and your back hit the trunk of a tree as Bucky caged you against it with his beefy frame.

“It’s about time someone put you in your place, isn’t it? You’ve been running your mouth, so loud and so fuckin’ annoying, bitching and moaning about everything.”

You opened your mouth to sass back at him, but his rough, callous hand grabbed your jaw, shutting you up.

“I’ll give you a reason to bitch and moan, sweetheart.”

Before you could process it, Bucky slanted his mouth against yours in a messy kiss, all clattering teeth and drool, his hands forcefully roaming over your body, you tightly clutching his biceps for support.

You were dripping already, panties ruined with the amount of slick that leaked out of your pussy.

You’d been fantasizing about this moment for nearly a year, and in the end it had only taken you 10 days to crack your colleague. Although, as one of his hands groped your breasts and the other kneaded your ass, you had the feeling that he would be the one to crack you. And your back, and neck.

His hips bucked against yours, and your walls fluttered against nothing as you felt his hard length press on you. You’d accidentally seen him before, and you knew he was going to fill you up like no one ever could before him.

You could ignore the pressure in your bladder and the simmering pain in your lower belly for the moment, in favor of losing yourself in the warmth of his built body, in the shivers that ran down your spine with every one of his rough touches.

In a blur, your t-shirt was discarded, your bra ripped and your pants and panties shoved down your legs, while he stood completely clothed over you.

His thick fingers weren’t delicate when they cupped your cunt, harshly pressing down on your engorged clit, but he was so intoxicating that you could forget the scratch of his nails and the mosquitoes tormenting your ankles.

Fuck, neither of you smelled like roses after a whole day of hiking, but all that you could feel was Bucky and the goosebumps and love bites he left behind.

He leaned back just to watch his fingers dip into your dripping folds, smirking at the way you shuddered.

“Fuck, I just knew you were a fuckin’ whore, you’re so wet for me.”

He plunged inside you, feeling your walls clamp down on his hand.

“What, cat’s got your tongue? You’ve been pestering me all week, if I knew this would get you to shut up I would have done it before, doll.”

You moaned his name when his fingers curled inside you, and the tingly sensation in your lower abdomen made your eyes widen in realization.

You still needed to piss. A lot. And the more Bucky’s vibranium hand jerked inside your pussy, the more your urge grew, the pressure so painfully, maddening pleasant.

Bucky latched his lips onto your pulse point, sucking a bruise on it. You clenched your thighs, whining in shame and need, as you fought the urge to release in his hand.

If you accidentally pissed on him, you’d just quit your job and change identity.

You couldn’t bear the shame of it, brows scrunching as you willed your tense muscles to hold in.

Bucky was none the wiser, continuing his ministration and mistaking your heaving chest and copious sweat for pleasure.

It was delirious, brain turned to mush as part of you wanted to let go and cum (and piss), while the other restrained your urges, and witheld your orgasm.

Bucky’s thick fingers inched you closer and closer to your release, but you bit on your lip and dug your nails in his back to stop you from falling off the edge.

“Don’t hold yourself back, doll. I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers and on my cock, wanna make you cream my fingers, pretty girl. I know you can do it.”

Your entire body shook as he doubled his efforts, panting against your ear as his arm vibrated inside your pussy.

You squeezed your eyes shut, body on fire as you tried and failed to conjure any gross image that could sour your mood. None of it worked, though.

A sharp yet somewhat delicate slap on your face brought you face to face with Bucky’s pissed expression.

“Damn brat, never doing what she’s asked,” he tsked, shaking his head, “You’re lucky you’re so pretty.”

You whined in disappointment but internally cheered when his fingers slipped out of you, and despite the emptiness he left behind, your aching bladder could finally sigh in relief.

Relief that was short lived when he manhandled you again, spinning you around and slamming you front against the tree, ass up in the air.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long,” you heard him mumble as he tugged his sweats and boxers down to free himself, “Wanted you for so long.”

He slapped his leaking cock on your ass, hot and heavy.

“Please, Bucky, please,” you whimpered, parting your legs wider.

You should have been begging for him to stop, but the ache in your pussy was too unbearable, and the prospect of his fat cock splitting you in half too appetizing.

“I like the sound of that, c-could get used to this.”

You felt as the breath had been knocked out of you when he breached your entrance, your gummy walls sucking him in. He felt better than you’d imagined all those lonely nights with your fingers down your panties, his name on your tongue as you made yourself cum imagining his hand instead of yours.

His breaths tickled the back of your ear as he gave you time to adjust, bracing one arm against the tree and the other on your shoulder.

Once he started thrusting inside you, the ache returned, stronger than it had been before.

His cock hit all the right spots inside you, which also meant that it jammed against your bursting bladder with each forceful snap of his hips.

The heat in your core was so great that you couldn’t feel the bark scratch against your chest, or the sweat trickling down his hair onto your back.

Again, you wanted to beg him to stop but words failed you, and all you could muster were some broken whimpers as your tongue lolled out of your mouth and you lost your mind on his dick.

The more he pistoned inside you, the more your need to cum grew, the more the idea of pissing all over yourself and Bucky seemed less scary.

“I can feel your tight pussy clamping down on me, doll. So tight, so good to me. Fuck,” he groaned, lost in his own pleasure, cock swelling inside, “‘M all yours, all yours.”

His arm snaked around your waist to pull you flush to his chest, which proved to be an awful move when his hand pressed against your bladder and you shrieked, a spurt of piss erupting out of you.

“God, you’re squirting? Oh God, fuck,” he grunted, clenching his teeth, “I’ve never made anyone do that before.”

You wanted to laugh, and cry.

“Bucky, Buck, stop, please, stop, I can’t, I-“

“Yes, you can, you’re doing so good for me, c’mon.”

“Bucky, no.”

Your tone was much harder than before, and Bucky froze like a deer caught in the headlight behind you.

You could feel his heaving chest on your back, and could sense his confusion in the air.

“But I thought…?” he muttered, pulling out of you, “Did I hurt you?”

You debated lying to him, but settled on telling the truth despite how humiliating it could be.

“No,” you hesitated, drawing in a deep breath, “‘S just, I really need to pee, I can’t hold it anymore.”

The air was still for a moment. You gulped, not daring to meet his eyes. After what felt like a century, you heard a low growl behind you.

“You and this damn piss,” he grunted, “Gettin’ on my nerves again, you fuckin’ brat. Always drinking water and whining like a child.”

His fingers dug painfully in your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. You were too speechless to protest.

“‘Bout time I teach you a lesson, sweetheart. I’ve been too good to you, and like the little brat you are, you’ve taken advantage.”

Bucky slammed his cock inside you again, pistoning his hips with brutal force while his hand found your front again.

The pad of his callous finger traced the bulge of your bladder, tickling the skin before pressing down on the swelling.

You had no time to think or react before your body acted on its own, releasing another spurt of hot piss against the tree.

You clenched your muscles to hold the rest of the piss in, and Bucky groaned behind you, feeling your pussy throb around him. You could tell he was getting off on your humiliation, watching you struggle to keep your dignity as he played your body like a fiddle.

“And I thought you were squirting,” he chuckles, “C’mon, piss all over yourself like the dumb bitch you are, princess. Show daddy how stupid his little toy is.”

Had you been more conscious, his alternating moods would have given you whiplash, but your sole reaction was to clamp down harder on him, biting on your lips until you could taste your blood on your tongue.

His cock dragging up and down your walls, the pressure in your cunt, the pain in your bladder, his hand on your belly, it was all becoming too much.

You opened your mouth to scream and all that came out were incoherent mumblings as you released all over yourself and his cock, your hot piss coming out in spurts as he kept fucking you.

“Dumb fuckin’ brat, you’re gonna be a good girl and cream all over daddy’s fat cock, aren’t you?”

You nodded, trembling head to toe with the sweetest release you’d ever felt, mind completely wiped as you lost control over your own body.

“Daddy, daddy please,” you wailed, “Make me cum, please.”

Your voice didn’t sound like your own as you begged, Bucky’s words lost on you when the ring in your ears got louder and louder.

You didn’t realize you were cumming until waves of searing hot pleasure crashed through you, the orgasm so intense you felt like you were going to black out.

You had the impression of being underwater, blissfully disoriented from reality, Bucky’s cock being to only thing to ground you.

You felt him throb and grow inside you, and he came with a grunt, filling your cunt with his hot cum so much that it began spilling out of your pussy while he was still hard inside you.

You both slumped against the tree, his arms around your chest, his head on your shoulder.

You were covered in dirt, piss, sweat and cum, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Not so shy now, that bladder of yours, hm?”

——

Pease let me know if you enjoyed the filth! Leave some feedback and reblog if you can! ❤️

[sdvvillagers]

Families reactions for bachelorettes and bachelors expecting a baby? (｡◕‿‿◕｡) Who would be extatic about becoming grandparent/auntie and so on, and who'd be scared of new role?

First off, I am SO DANG SORRY for how long it took me to answer this.  Seriously, this ask has been in my inbox for months (along with another one that I SWEAR I’ll get to!  I’m sorry!).  Long asks like these make my brain seize up and it takes awhile to kick my brain in the pants and reboot it.  I tried to keep all responses vague in terms of spouse (for male or female partner) as well as vague in terms of pregnancy versus adoption.  Enjoy!

Alex - Evelyn and George never thought they’d see the day that they would become great-grandparents.  It seemed so far-fetched that they’d never really considered it as an option, not even when Alex got married.  It wasn’t until they actually heard Alex announce that he was going to be a father that the reality set in.  Evelyn was so overjoyed she burst into tears, beckoning Alex over to her so she could squeeze him as hard as her frail arms possibly could.  George was happy, of course, but more than anything he was proud.  Not only proud of Alex and what a wonderful father he would be, but admittedly proud of himself for living so full a life that he lived long enough to see himself become a great-grandfather.

Sam - Jodi has been excited about the prospect of having grandchildren ever since Sam was born.  Having a family and children of her own is rewarding, she can’t deny that, but there’s something different about grandkids.  She saw the way her own parents interacted with Sam and later Vincent, and saw a far more carefree relationship.  Grandparents don’t have to be disciplinarians, they don’t have to enforce strict bedtimes or limit sugar intake, they don’t have to clean up after messes or potty train.  Jodi loves being a mother when it comes to interacting with her children, it’s everything else that gets overwhelming.  Jodi definitely shrieks in excitement when Sam announces that he’s going to be a father.  Kent, usually a quiet and stoic man, will struggle to hold back his emotions as he congratulates his son.  It isn’t until later when he has a moment alone that he properly processes the news and finally allows himself to feel properly excited about it.  So much of his own children’s lives was missed by him, he hopes he can be a more present in the life of his grandchild.  And Vincent… well, Vincent is just tickled by the idea that he’ll be an uncle before he even turns 10 and will insist that everyone start calling him “Uncle Vincent” before the baby even arrives.

Seb - Robin has NO CHILL when it comes to Seb announcing that he’s going to be a father.  For years Robin worried about Seb, concerned that he would be a hermit forever and would never live a life outside of the basement.  Seeing Seb flourish the way he has and meet someone new was rewarding enough and even once Seb was in a relationship, Robin wasn’t sure if children were ever on his radar.  He didn’t seem like he wanted kids in his life and Robin still would have been happy for him even if he never pursued having children… at least that’s what she thought until the moment Seb announced he was going to be a father.  Full-on freakout on Robin’s part.  Demetrius is outwardly proud of Sebastian and congratulates him, but a part of Demetrius is worried.  His relationship as a father figure to Sebastian never really worked out and he wonders what his place will be in the life of Sebastian’s child and whether he will be treated as a grandfather or not.  Maru is SO excited to become an auntie, already she starts thinking of all the cool and fun things she wants to do with her niece/nephew.  She’s bound and determined to be the stereotypical “fun aunt”.

Shane - Marnie has spent most of her life worrying about Shane for various reasons; worried about his alcohol dependence, worried about his depression, worried about his loneliness, worried about his future.  When Shane finally does meet someone, Marnie is ecstatic.  Of course someone new will never fix a person in itself, having a partner at least helps to motivate Shane to get his life on the right track.  Marnie is absolutely thrilled when Shane announces he’s going to be a father and this is one area where she’s not worried one bit.  She’s seen how he is with Jas and what a wonderful father figure he’s been to her, Marnie’s just happy that he’ll have the chance to have this experience from the beginning.  As for Jas, she couldn’t be happier.  It’s always been a bit lonely for her, it’s been tough for her to find her place in the family dynamic.  But with Shane getting married and now a new baby arriving, Jas finally feels like she’s settling into a family and becoming part of something she’s always wanted.

Abigail - Caroline and Pierre are so proud of the woman that Abi has grown into.  Yes, they had their disagreements as Abi was growing up and even into her young adulthood, but those were all overcome once Abi started to make a life for herself.  It was worrisome to both Caroline and Pierre when Abi was so carefree and didn’t have a direction she wanted to go in life, it seemed like the last thing in life she wanted was to settle down and live a domestic life.  Apparently all Abi needed was to find the right person to complement her and everything fell into place.  Abi is still the somewhat rebellious girl she had been and there’s still many things Pierre and Caroline will never understand about her, but it at least brings them comfort to see her happy.  When she announces that she’s going to be a mother, Pierre and Caroline are relieved and overjoyed.  It was never anything they thought would happen to them when their only child was so outwardly against domesticity, but they’re so happy that she found a way to live that life and still be happy.

Emily - When Emily announces that she is going to be a mother, Haley literally SHRIEKS in excitement.  At this point in her life Haley might not be ready for a baby, but that doesn’t mean she’s not completely excited to have one in her life.  What follows is the biggest shopping trip of Haley’s life, she finds herself buying more in preparation for the new baby than even Emily does.  No niece or nephew of Haley’s will go unspoiled.  She can’t wait to be the cool aunt.

Haley - It’s strange for Emily when she hears that Haley will be a mother.  Most of Emily’s life was spent caring for Haley more as her mother than as her sister, it isn’t until recently that they’ve been able to find a happy place in their relationship where Emily can finally feel like a sister.  Now the dynamic is changing once again and Emily feels more like a grandmother than an auntie, the connection to Haley and her child is that strong.  Somehow calling herself an aunt just doesn’t seem powerful enough, it doesn’t seem worthy enough.  Emily knows she will be more than just an aunt to Haley’s child and has ever intention of treating her niece or nephew the way any grandmother would.

Maru - Robin and Demetrius beam with pride when Maru announced that she’s going to be a mother.  While Demetrius always focused more on Maru’s success in her studies and her career, Robin always worried in the back of her mind if this measure of success was the only one Maru would cling to.  Robin hoped that Maru would learn that her success could be measured just as much by her personal relationships and family life and that Maru was smart enough and driven enough to have it all.  Seeing Maru in a happy relationship and hearing the news that she’s starting a family is a relief to Robin to see that she never devalued having a family and it’s a relief to Demetrius to see that his motivated daughter is living a full life.  Sebastian isn’t outwardly excited about the prospect of being an uncle, then again there isn’t much he’s outwardly excited about.  Inwardly, though, he’s strangely looking forward to being an uncle.  Yes, it will be awkward and he’s certainly never been a fan of babies or even small children, but somehow the idea of playing Solarian Chronicles with his niece or nephew many years from now is a vision he can’t stop seeing and enough to get him actually excited.

Penny - Pam knows how long Penny has waited for this moment and it’s for that reason that Pam is actually quite worried for her.  Pam knows how much the idea of being a wife and mother has been glorified in Penny’s mind but Pam understands from experience just how difficult parenting can really be.  It’s hard to truly make someone understand just how hard parenting can be and that it’s not the beautiful, rewarding experience it can sometimes be painted as.  Parenting can be soul-crushing, it can be exhausting, it can be overwhelming, and Pam worries that Penny might not be ready for that aspect of it.  Of course Pam is thrilled at the news that she’ll be a grandmother, but a part of her is also worried about what kind of grandmother she’ll be.  She fully acknowledges that she wasn’t exactly the best mother in the world and that somehow Penny turned out okay in spite of that.  Being told that she’ll be a grandmother gives Pam some relief that maybe she’ll get a second chance… she just hopes she won’t screw it up.

[absolutelyfizzing]

happy day

remus x reader (marauders era)

description - a sunny day on the hogwarts lawn

warnings - unbearable fluff, fem pronouns, reader gets almost picked up for a second, again a warning for just suffocating fluff

word count - 1000

A/N - this made me feel better when i was writing it, i think this is my dream life. How do i go on knowing that this is not my life? i will let you know when i find out.

MASTERLIST

Remus' heart raced against his chest as he watched you run across the field outside of hogwarts castle. You were both celebrating the springtime of your seventh year, preparing to graduate from the home of your upbringing. Remus was looking forward to continuing his life outside of the confines of the school of course and of pursuing adulthood but he also was thrilled at the prospect of spending his life with you.

Obviously you weren't even graduated yet and a wedding would be idiotic at a time when neither of you were financially stable but you had secured a place to live together for the foreseeable future and he had no doubt in his mind that you were it for him. You had been dating for coming up on 2 years and you had been friends for years before that. When you got together you became the epitome of the wholesome relationships at Hogwarts and he was just glad to be known for something other than his monthly issue.

Your floral sundress was waving behind you as you ran through the tall grass, a wide beaming smile on your face which was turned up toward the sky. The day was surprisingly blue and Remus was thankful because it meant he got to witness this moment. Witness you in your happiness and excitement as he was inevitably filled with those same feelings.

You suddenly stopped spinning and instead took a moment to gaze at Remus who was sitting up on his elbows, his legs stretched out and crossed in front of him, as he laid on top of a large blanket you had picked up from your dorm before you departed to the lawn. Your smile widened at the sight, his curls falling over his forehead and freckles dotting his cheeks. You took off running toward him, giggling all the way, and Remus spread his arms up to grab you as you came crashing down onto him.

His hands found purchase on your waist and he quickly flipped you over so he was above you and he moved his hands to grab at your sides, tickling you without remorse. Your laughter was music to his ears and you started to run out of breath as he continued to tickle you.

"St-stop, Rem-" you tried to get out but your laughter didn't allow you, "cant- cant breathe" you giggled and Remus relented only for a second to let you catch your breath.

"That's what you get for looking so absolutely adorable today." He smiled at the reddish blush that was brought to your face.

"That's not fair." You grumbled but your smile was betraying you.

"And why is that not fair, bunny." He wondered aloud, already knowing your answer as you had this conversation with each other daily.

"You know that when you compliment me it makes my brain go brrrrrr." You giggled and Remus sighed before laying on top of you, trapping you underneath him and his elbows holding up some of his weight. His head moved to your neck and he kissed it lovingly before pulling back to look into your eyes.

"I just can't help it, you make it impossible not to compliment you." He smiled and you could have died right then at the smug look on his face. Instead he kissed you with a smile still on his lips. You brought your hands up to hold his face and run your fingers through his hair and he pulled back again, your hands still tangled in his curls. He just gazed at you and you beamed from below him. He couldn't have put into words what he felt for you in that moment. Instead of either of you saying anything you leaned up to peck each of his cheeks and his nose, then landing on his lips again. You sat up, forcing his head into your lap and he flipped over so the back of his head rested on your thighs.

You stared at each other for a moment and you could have cried. Instead you began to trace the lines of his face as he gazed up at you. Your gentle fingers ran over his nose, which was crooked to the right. His eyebrows that were somehow perfect despite never touching them. His jaw that you would kiss when you stood next to him. The long scar that ran through his eyebrow and down his cheek. Then your fingers moved to trace the lines of his lips and over his eyelids which he closed to let you. When your hands moved back to his hair his eyes fluttered open.

"'f you keep doing that 'm gonna fall in love with you." He almost whispered sleepily and you smirked a bit.

"Well good cause it's already too late for me. You'd had me smitten years ago, lover boy." You smiled.

"Oh yeah? why is that?"

"I just couldn't help it, you've always been such a player with the ladies and your overconfidence had me swooning." You teased sarcastically.

"I know, I was never one of those dorks with their heads shoved in books who was too nervous to talk to pretty girls. That was always Sirius." He was beaming up at you and you leaned down to kiss his forehead. You both heard laughter coming from across the field and you looked over, Remus rising up on his elbows to look as well.

There, over the field, you could see your friends giggling and rushing toward you. Lily and James were walking together, James' arm wrapped around the redhead's shoulders. Sirius was getting pulled along by a cheerful Marlene but he couldn't have seemed happier. When they reached you after a while of walking they all groaned at the sight of Remus and you cuddled up together. Sirius gagged dramatically before breaking out laughing. They all layed down around the two of you and Marlene handed you a picnic basket to unpack and disperse as conversation about the beautiful day began. You happily did so and Remus's head fell back onto your lap, his eyes closed and a light smile on his face. The rest of the day was filled with laughter and joy and it would be a day that you remembered for a long time.

[theseshipsshallsail]

Chapter 1

The revelry from the bookstore leaves a heady buzz of la libertà flowing through their veins, and as the crescent moon climbs higher in a pin-pricked sky, Rome’s labyrinthine streets bear witness to the loss of their remaining inhibitions. Drunken kisses give way to drunken dancing - and unfortunate drunken vomiting - but the ancient cobbles are their compass on this ferragosto evening, steering them back to the complicit safety of their hotel. 

The stale scent of sex still lingers in the room, yet tempted as they are to add to it, the prospect of their imminent separation is a sobering force. Elio’s body is heavy with exhaustion. The oppressive tightness in his chest magnified by all that he’s trying to ignore. Their time is borrowed. Soon, all of this will be naught but memory. The man beside him nothing but a ghost. Haunting his every step with visions of a life denied. A future obfuscated by what-ifs and maybes.   

He refuses to sleep, however. Refuses to sacrifice a single minute to unconsciousness in spite of the grappa’s siren call. Absurd though it is, a part of him dreads waking up alone. That Oliver will disappear like a thief in the night - taking what’s left of his shattered heart with him. His guards are down - all his pretences stripped away - but here they are, stretched out on a too-small bed, solemn fingers caressing familiar skin. Worshipping each other by words, if not by the flesh. 

And it isn’t easy. Of course it isn’t. Elio’s an individuo reservato. A trait he’s uncomfortably aware of. But he can’t let that stop him from spilling his innermost thoughts. From divulging the things he wishes he’d done differently. Or not at all. In some aspects, he’s sure he’s repeating himself, but there’s just so much he needs Oliver to hear. Things he never dared tell him previously - never deemed vital - when the end of their summer idyll was a nebulous concept.  

Like how he’d leave the adjoining door open at night, hoping beyond hope that Oliver would walk through it. Or that afternoon at the tennis courts, when he’d recoiled from his massage for fear of leaning into the frisson of excitement. Needs him to understand his visceral reaction the morning after they first slept together. The crippling anxiety that twisted his intentions, necessitating a hasty - if short-lived - retreat. Wants to beg him not to forget. To remember everything. So that when next he tastes the salt-tang of the ocean upon his lips, the sweetness of apricot juice beneath a cloudless yonder, a piece of Elio - nevermind how fleeting - will slip into that parallel life, too.

All his secrets. 

All his worries. 

All he’s put off for later. 

A futile notion, admittedly, now that there is no later. 

No more chance for postponement. 

Thankfully, he isn’t the only one speaking, and Oliver lays his own regrets out like a hand of cards whenever he stumbles into a tongue-tied silence. His forearm is slung around his waist, their legs tangled at the knees, and Elio drowns in his eyes as he recalls the steely glares that once pierced him to the core, but which he now appreciates were a means of self-defence. An attempt to stave off the unavoidable.

“Did you mean it?” he whispers, twisting Oliver’s Star of David between his fingertips as he burrows into the sticky warmth of his neck. “When you said you’d been happy here?”

“How can you even ask me that?” 

“How can I not?” Elio replies, failing to control the tremor in his voice. “You tried to keep your distance when you arrived. It was me who sought you out. If I hadn’t pushed so hard -”

“I’d have probably spent ten more days kicking myself for my cowardice,” Oliver tells him, dropping kisses to his knuckles as though they’re something to be cherished. “Wearing holes in my espadrilles… trying to hide a semi each time you passed by in those swim trunks...”

Elio snorts. “The feeling’s mutual, mon ami.”

“So we’re both idiots, then?”

“Well… one of us was being purposefully difficult...”

“Goose,” Oliver growls, and Elio giggles despite himself when he’s tickled without mercy. “I’ll show you purposefully difficult.”

It soon devolves into a childish wrestling match, Elio’s wrists pinned above him as Oliver scrabbles along his sides, leaving him bow-taut and winded. “Tutto apposto! Enough!”

“You give?”

“I give,” he says, lungs heaving in his chest. “Dio… I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Nonsense.” Oliver rolls to the side, tipping his chin up to better meet his eyes. ”This is new to us both. It’s only natural to have doubts.”

Elio huffs. “Doubt is the father of inventions.”

“And may I ask what you’re inventing?”

An awkward shrug. “Nothing,” Elio says, afraid his misgivings will lead them down a destructive path. “And everything. You know how my brain works.”

“I do, yes.” Oliver brushes a thumb over his bottom lip. “Though for my sins, I’ve yet to find cause for complaint.”

“Déviant.” 

“Takes one to know one.”

Elio nips at the tormenting digit, not quite ready to let the subject go. “I want to hear it,” he murmurs, teeth scraping the nail. “I think I need to hear it.”

“Elio…”

“Just tell me,” he insists, and sighing, Oliver pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“It’s complicated.”

“Isn’t it always?” 

Impatience flares at the return of his evasiveness, and the remorse in Oliver’s gaze is immediate. “We never talked much about my family, did we?” he asks, and Elio shakes his head, shuffling closer as Oliver draws a shuddering breath. “My parents, they’re.... well. To describe them as traditional would be a kindness,” he continues. “Our relationship has been strained for years, but they have certain... expectations, I suppose. For my future, specifically. You know how it is.”

“Do I?” Elio asks, stiffening as I'm sure I'll pay for it somehow echoed from the not so distant past. 

The implication is clear, and maybe there are razor blades in his expression, because Oliver’s own turns instantly apologetic. “I guess not,” he says, sliding a conciliatory hand to his hip. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?”

Elio frowns. “In what way?”

“With your folks,” Oliver explains. “My father would cart me off to a correctional facility.” A beat. “He still might.” 

“Only if he finds out,” his traitorous mouth blurts before his alleged genius can catch up, and Elio’s heart sinks. “But he won’t, will he?”

It’s less a question, more a statement, and Oliver’s jaw clenches as he stares at him in silent concession. “I wish things could be different.”

“I know,” Elio says, the words braver than the sentiment behind them. “Me too.”  

But the universe isn’t that lenient. Like Icarus, they’ve flown too near to the sun, and the consequences of such defiance will see their wings clipped once they crash back down to earth. He’d cautioned himself on the journey south to prepare for the blow. Peered out the grimy window of the direttissimo, knowing that when he next stands on the platform he’ll be alone. That he’ll hate it. Those rehearsals, it seems, have done little to dull the pain of what’s to come, and latent superstition has left him fumbling in the dark, regardless.

“E’ la vita,” Elio says, resorting to self-preservation as he dredges up a smile - the over-bright, false one he’s perfected through years of dinner drudgery. “Why risk it all for a bit of fun, right?”

“Don’t do that.” Apparently Elio’s not the only one who can see through a facade. “You mean more to me than some fling, and you know it.”

“But -” 

“No. Hear me out.” Earnest, Oliver smooths the hair from Elio’s temple. “These past six weeks… I don’t know how to describe how important they were to me. The freedom. The acceptance.” His throat bobs in the grey strokes of dawn. “You.”

“Me?” 

“Us.” Oliver fidgets with a loose thread on Elio’s shirt. “I meant it,” he mutters at last, winding an errant curl around the index finger of his other hand. “I have been happy here. I’ve been happy with you.” He hesitates. A quick flash of indecision. “I’m not sure I was ever really happy before you.” 

“Please don’t say that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“Per carità! That only makes it worse,” Elio says, whirling away to hide in Oliver’s collar. The sour musk of sweat is soaked into the material, and he inhales deeply, hoarding every piece of him while he still can. “You are the very best parts of me,” he confesses, lifting his head. “I don’t know what I’ll do when -”

“Hey…” Oliver’s grip tightens. “Didn’t we go over this? You’ll be -”

“Fine. You said.”

“Clearly it bears repeating.” 

Elio touches his face. Watches the ripples of emotion spread out like a pebble cast into the lake. “And you?” he returns, recollecting that night on the rock. His naivety in presuming Oliver’s ghost wouldn’t always be staring out at the horizon. Rodin’s Thinker clad in billowy cotton. “You’ll be okay?”

A breath. “I’ll be okay.”

Elio’s not sure which of them he’s trying to convince, so he kisses him gently in lieu of examining it further, his stomach flipping when Oliver pulls back with an air of exquisite softness. “What time do we need to be at the airport?” he asks, seeking sanctuary in distraction. “You have your passport, sì?”

“I do,” Oliver says, studying him carefully. “The plane leaves at noon. But don’t feel you have to -” He stops. Swallows. Tries again. “You don’t have to see me off. Not if you don’t want -”

“I want.”

“Elio -”

“Non essere ridicolo. I’m coming,” he tells him, fighting a shiver as the cool breeze from the window brings goosebumps to his skin. “Of course I’m coming.” 

The relentless tick of the clock rings loud in the sudden silence, and Elio raises up on his elbow, only for Oliver to cup his cheek before he can turn towards the wall. 

“Don’t look,” he whispers, sounding choked as he double checks the time on his watch. “It’s ten minutes fast at any rate.”

“Ten minutes?” Elio laughs. Slightly unhinged. “What difference does that make? Ten? Twenty? You still have to leave.”

He detests the unspoken word that hovers between them. The entire phrase a sullen admission of weakness: you still have to leave me.

“Don’t think of it like that,” Oliver murmurs, one hand stroking the base of his spine. ”We have a few hours yet.” 

Elio sniffs. “Not like they’ll matter tomorrow.”

“Maybe not. But they matter right now.” Oliver nudges their foreheads together. “Every second, Elio.” 

“Every second, Elio,” he echoes numbly, if only to call him by his name one last time.

He’s shaking, he realises, though in all honesty he doesn’t care that his vulnerabilities are on display. That Oliver can see how lost in him he really is. That the situation is gutting him, and he’s unable to stop the bleeding. His chest feels concave. The space below his ribs too small to contain the sheer need and protectiveness that washes through him. He wants to shelter Oliver from the storm that lies ahead. To house him beneath his breast where the burdens of this world cannot touch him. Encapsulate everything Oliver is within the confines of himself, meagre as those confines might be.

But what can he do? Implore him to stay? Ask him to give up his doctorate? His career? His responsibilities? And for what? A life in the shadows? Always looking over their shoulders. Always that sense of shame.

He thinks of the pink and yellow lilies that bloom in the giardino back in B. The delicate petals that unfurl for such a brief period of time. There’s something recherché, he knows, in such transitory beauty, yet Elio’s never lacked for stubbornness. Oliver may believe his story is already written - that their destiny is forged in stone - but no one’s ever survived a freefall by continuing to spiral. 

For something so tragically temporary, their bond has left a permanent mark. And Elio? He wants to beat his fists against this odious ending until they’re bloodied and raw.

[citydreamgrls]

the empty diary - part one

fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: it had appeared out of the blue, a diary that contained an odd power, one which would backfire and reveal her true feelings to the one she wished to hide it from most.

an: this is the first part in a new mini-series, i hope you all enjoy !!

words: 4,051 

warnings: smut in later parts 

The book had appeared on top of her cases when the girl had arrived in her dorm the previous day, its crimson red cover sticking out amongst the dark wood trunks. It had been a small surprise, the pages between all empty to her eyes as she scanned through it quickly. But something had drawn her to the mysterious object as she felt the leather slip between her fingers as if it was somewhat familiar.

Since it was empty, and there was no one who was asking after a lost diary, the girl decided to use it as just that. Spending most evenings of the first few weeks back at Hogwarts hiding herself away to spill out those nagging thoughts; thoughts that she’d never before had the idea to write down.

Most days she could time it so that Hermione was busy helping Ron with transfiguration work and not sitting around watching her write furiously, doing her best to not interrupt. As much as she trusted Hermione, she knew how curious her best friend could be at times and wanted to keep this one thing private for as long as she could manage.

It wasn’t long, however, as she’d imagined.

“y/n-” Hermione had burst into the room, catching the girl off guard, who had learnt to zone out all noises while she wrote. Which meant she hadn’t noticed the rushed footsteps pounding up the stone steps to their room before it was too late. “What’s that?”

The girl did her best to act casual, her little desk which she was sitting at normally gathering dust, and slid the book beneath some forgotten homework from last year.

“Oh… nothing.” She panicked, and blurted out, knowing full well that no excuse would satisfy Hermione’s interest more than the truth.

“Show me,” A hand reached past her, pushing papers away to reveal the red leather standing out amongst the white sheets.

“It’s really- Hermione!”

No amount of body blocking could have stopped the girl’s friend when she was determined, regardless of how much she tried; Hermione was a surprisingly strong girl.

“Stop it!” Y/n cried out, laughing when she felt the girl hovering over her reach down to tickle her. Grinning at the way she crumbled beneath the feeling, whining out about foul play.

Hermione’s hands had already grasped the book, frowning at its blank cover and holding it heavy in her hands. The other girl, now released from the temporary torture of tickling, stood beside her friend and tried one last time to reclaim her new diary.

It, in a clumsy turn of events, fell to the floor. The pages audibly flicking through themselves, as they watched it cascade to the ground as it was slower than time.

Y/n silently prayed, begged and wished that it would land with the covers closed over her intimate thoughts, fearful of how the girl beside her would react to something so personal. But as two pages laid out before them both, and the girl held her breath, it seemed as if fate heard her call as the pair stared down to see a blank response.

She let out a little breath, forgetting that she needed to reclaim the book before Hermione got a chance. The girl in question, however, seemed confused by the book before her.

“What?” Y/n scoffed, following her eyes to see what had made her speechless in the last ten seconds or so. Joining the silence as their jaws dropped agape at the sight before them both.

“Am I going mad?” Hermione asked, seeing the ink appear slowly on the once empty page, words coming into view in the form of sentences y/n had curated herself only moments before her friend had burst into the room. She just shook her head at the empty question, too amazed by what they were witnessing to bother talking.

Shaking hands reached for it, worried it may combust between her fingers as the girl held it tenderly. Hermione’s name was printed in bold amongst the rest of the words, something she herself hadn’t done.

“Did you write about me?”

“Only good things,” She smiled, trying to avoid her prying eyes, but it was no use.

“I think it’s been charmed… but by who.”

There was a silence between the two girls as their mind’s whirred for a moment, the faint echo of passing owls sounding amongst their breaths. Y/n was close to a scream when Hermione lunged towards her, taking the book from her and throwing it onto the bed with a panicked look, a thought having plagued her mind suddenly.

“We shouldn’t trust it, not after what happened to Ginny in second year.”

“Oh come on Mione, you-know-who isn’t going to try the same trick twice.”

“Well, where did you find it then?” She demanded to know, her hands resting all too comfortably on her hips like an angry mother.

“It was just… onmycases.” The girl mumbled, now understanding where the hesitance was coming from.

“Where y/n?” Her voice was stern.

“On my case, it was just laying there for me.”

“Well then we definitely can't trust it!”

“I’ve had it for weeks already, and still nothing bad has happened, I think I'm safe.” A laugh sounded from her mouth, more to reassure herself as she picked it up again, the leather still feeling natural between her skin.

Her friend didn’t seemed convinced and took it from her yet again, making y/n groan out in annoyance as Hermione paced the room, trying to study it for herself.

“Give it back Mione!”

“I just want to try something-” “It’s private!” “I’m not interested in your crushes y/n,” She scoffed, but noticed the entry she had dedicated to how good Oliver Wood had looked at the first quidditch practice.

“Oh come on it’s not a crush- what are you doing?”

Hermione held her wand out, muttering as many spells as she could think of to try and reveal the whole book to her, having noticed the stray empty pages between entries.

“I wrote on those, what’s it doing?” The girl asked, peering over her friend's shoulder as she refused to stop walking round their dorm.

“I think it’s charmed to the reader, here, you hold it.” “Well, it’s not like it’s mine or anything.” She huffed, finally taking it back and flicking between pages. Where Hermione had seen blanks, she watched the words reappear. “See, now it’s coming back.” “Not for me, that one’s still blank.” Her friend furrowed her brow, thinking intently as the girl placed the book back down on her pokey desk.

“I think it’s been charmed so that whoever reads it only sees entries in which they’re mentioned. You can see all of them because you wrote them, but I could only see the ones which you had written me into.” Her brain spilled out this theory so confidently that all y/n could do was nod in agreement, seeing no flaws to what she was stating.

“That seems, risky, right?” She offered up, unsure of what else to say.

“Very, but somewhat safer than muggle diaries at least.” Hermione giggled, laying back with a sigh. “I only came up for a textbook, but it seems like Ron’s troubles are nowhere near as interesting as this is.”

“I’m glad I can at least entertain,” The girl rolled her eyes, “Hey, maybe we should test this out a bit more.”

“That way we can know whether what I think is right, great idea!” Hermione seemed excited at the prospect of an experiment, regardless of how mundane or easy it was.

“We can use Ron and Harry!”

-

The two girls peered around a bookcase, spotting the redhead and four eyes struggling to think of an original thought between them as they waited for Hermione to return. She rolled her eyes, knowing they’d get nothing done without her.

“Give it here,” Y/n took the red book from her friend, spotting how possessive they’d both become of it.

“I was keeping it safe for you, this could be bad in the wrong hands y/n,” She hissed, not wanting to draw the boys’ attention until they were ready. “Now, write Ron’s name in here and Harry’s on another page. That way we can see which one they can see when holding the book.” The top student explained simply, the girl beside her just nodding as she scribbled quickly, their sneaky stances now garnering a bit of attention around them.

“Done. Let’s try it out.” She smiled, holding the book amongst others she’d brought down with her, hiding their plan behind the lie of another outstanding essay to complete.

“Finally!” Ron huffed, seeing the girls arrive after enough time waiting.

“Well, if you actually listened to Mcgonnagall during class then you wouldn’t need to wait for me to come and hold your hand.” Hermione snapped, taking her seat beside the boy as y/n joined Harry.

He seemed unfazed by the bright red leather slipped between her plain school books as she placed them down, he was too preoccupied by a girl making eyes at him from across the library.

“I just don’t get why I need to know all this, I don’t even want to take Transfiguration next year so it doesn’t matter, it’s a waste of time.” Ron was groaning as Hermione watched her pull out the diary subtly, sighing and flicking open the pages. She hushed the boy beside her as y/n began further writing next to his name, he watched her with a scowl before she held up the page to him.

Ron, Mcgonnagall’s in here you git! Be quiet.

“Is she, oh bloody hell.” He put his head down after reading the words she’d written out for him, Hermione nodding to her when she hadn’t been able to see it herself. It was a lie of course, the Professor’s very rarely spent time in the library, and Ron probably knew it deep down, but it was enough to prove that their theory was right. The girl’s friend stared at Harry, who was still distracted from the rest of them, signalling that she should still try it with him.

Harry, is she your new girlfriend? ;)

She wrote, sliding the message over to him, and nudging his side with a giggle. It made the dark haired boy blush but still he scoffed and denied that he’d been making eyes at anyone. Ron had seen the quiet exchange and frowned, seeing a blank page from his point of view.

“Was there anything on there?” He whispered to Hermione, who dismissed his question with a sigh and quickly changed the subject to keep their little secret.

-

The two girls sat awake on their beds that evening, having proven the true powers of y/n’s diary and agreed that something this simple was unlikely to be dark magic. They had tested as many spells on it to show if it was capable of more, but it seemed that hiding irrelevant entries was all it could do.

“You should keep a locking spell on it, and probably keep it safe, if someone managed to get it open that would be awful.”

“Who do you think would be the worst person.” Y/n inquired, her brain worn out from all the possibilities she’d run through.

“Oliver Wood.” Hermione teased.

“Shut up! I don’t like him.”

“There’s someone though, right? I saw some words about a boy.”

“Not really.”

“It seemed like you were interested in them.” She let out a small laugh in the dimly lit room at her friend’s blatant lie, knowing that when she liked someone she would deny it for the rest of her life until she too believed it not to be true. “It’s not a bad thing to like someone.”

Hermione did her best to reassure her friend, but the girl seemed caught in her thoughts as they welcomed the silence between them, her wand spinning between her fingers mindlessly. She decided to drop it, seeing how uncomfortable it had made her, but surprisingly it was y/n who spoke up.

“I don’t think they would feel the same way, that’s all.” Her voice was quiet, and reserved. A world apart from how she usually acted around her best friend.

“Who is it?” Hermione asked, seeing the hesitance on the girl’s face as she thought about how to answer.

“You really cannot tell a soul, I mean this.”

“I promise y/n, no one will know.” She placed her hands into the girl’s, squeezing tight to try and relax her as best as she could.

“Okay, well, it’s nothing big it’s just an interest that’s it. And really, I’m not too sure about it myself.”

“Okay, go on.”

-

A few days passed, with Hermione and y/n successfully keeping the diary a secret between them. Not that Ron and Harry would have ever been that bothered by it, or its powers, at all.

It was yet another night spent studying in the library when things went wrong. The girl had been there for a good few hours now, her diligent friend always one to motivate her whenever she needed it. The diary had been forgotten amongst her other books, its locking spell casted safely over it.

Still, that spell wasn’t completely safe and they had done all they could to strengthen it, but someone would most likely be able to crack it open after some research into counter spells.

They had chosen a small table by the windows, the beginnings of a storm crashing against the glass as hushed voices floated around the large room. It was private, and not many people seemed to pass by, so when Hermione went to find yet another book to help with her latest essay, the girl decided it would be a chance to write in the red bound book for a little while.

She held her wand and whispered the words to open it up to her, its pages flittering to the next empty piece of paper within. The quill in her hand danced around as she wrote all about her day, about the storm, about the people in her classes and about the boy she was learning to like with every second spent in his presence.

Beyond the castle walls the wind blustered against the stone, the howls tunneling through the hallways and creating a small breeze at her feet. She shivered, ignoring the cold as best she could and focused instead on the words she wrote.

“God that rain sounds awful!” A voice boomed nearby, dragging her away from her thoughts hurriedly.

“Do you think quidditch will be cancelled?” Another droned on, obviously annoyed at this prospect. She recognised the twins immediately as their footsteps reached her side.

“I hope not- oh y/n you’re still here?” George asked as they both stopped. She shut the book quickly, looking up from where she sat to smile politely. Both boys towered above her as they stood with hands in their pockets.

“We saw you earlier with Hermione, but you looked busy so we didn’t dare interrupt.” Fred laughed lightly, peering over at her work beside her. “You got much to do?”

“Uh not too much, Hermione is here somewhere but she’s-” “Off being a goody two shoes?” Fred teased.

“Hey, that’s mean.”

“Sorry, I should have included both of you in that statement.”

The girl had wondered how long it would take for the twins to start annoying her again, their greatest pleasure in life was seeing someone bothered by them and that never excluded herself.

“At least I don’t fly around like a maniac every other night,” She huffed.

“Hey, quidditch is very respected.” George snapped back.

“Yeah, for teenage boys that is.” She scoffed, ignoring their grimaces and pulling out her potions book.

“Yeah well-” Fred was cut off by the sound of glass smashing somewhere else in the library, the storm from outside flying in with no regard for the panicked students. Screams sounded out as more and more windows caved into the growing pressure, and the girl stood up to see if she could spot Hermione amongst them.

“We need to go!” George cried out to his brother, who grabbed the girl’s arm. She took it back, needing to find Hermione first before getting out.

“Y/n!” Her friend called out over the howls of wind, appearing from behind a stack of books and taking her friend’s hand. “Come on!” She dragged her away from the table.

“Wait, what about-” SHe started, remembering the red diary laying unprotected on the table. She hadn’t had time to cast the spell over it, and now as they ran through the small crowd of students she had no chance to turn back.

“Y/n come on!” Fred yanked on her arm again, giving her no option but to follow as he overpowered her protests easily.

-

They weren’t allowed back in until the next afternoon, once the room had been cleared of smashed glass, and the windows were repaired. It was quiet now, the storm having been and gone, and the sun shone in calmly as if nothing had happened.

“Over here, this was where we were yes?” Hermione asked, spotting her pile of textbooks stacked neatly on their table. A few pages had been ripped at the edges, and she could see obvious signs of water damage. But mostly, it was salvageable.

“I can’t find it!” Y/n said, rushing to shove everything out of the way. The diary was nowhere to be found.

“It’ll be here, just keep looking.”

The girl threw herself to the ground, crawling beneath the table where she’d had it last and looking in all the dark corners. But no matter where she looked, the red leather was missing.

“I’ll go ask Madame Pince, she may have picked it up if it looked important.” Hermione told her friend as she slumped into the chair, her head falling between her hands in despair.

It was open, unlocked for anyone to look inside. Whoever had it may not be able to read anything, but if it got passed around to someone mentioned then it was over. The girl collected the things that had been left in the midst of the storm and remembered how adamant the twins had been to get her out, especially Fred.

They could have easily taken it while she was distracted looking for Hermione, not to mention that they would revel in knowing her every secret. But that was the last thing she wanted to believe, as it would mean she would need to drown herself in the black lake out of embarrassment.

Since she learnt of the diary’s power, she had been careful not to mention him by name, knowing that it would immediately reveal itself to him if found. But, what about the ones before when his name was repeated over and over, when she wasn’t sure why she felt the need to write about him, or her feelings towards him. It just felt right.

Now, it was all wrong. What if there was more, what if the power stretched to intention too. If it knew that the person reading it was being written about, without blatantly stating their name, would that mean it would still reveal itself. She hated that her and Hermione hadn’t thought of this idea until now, when it was too late.

“It has to be the twins!” Y/n stated, when her friend returned from the librarian’s office empty handed, her eyes wide and determined.

“You really think so?” “Who else would want to have that kind of upper hand over someone?” “It would be their best prank this term, even if it’s a bit cruel.”

“We need to get it back! Remember what I said the other night, all of that could be unveiled if they are the ones who have it.” She urged, getting to her feet in an instant, forgetting all the things they needed to carry back to their dorms and storming out of the library.

-

Fred would have recognised the red cover from a mile away, it had been clutched between the girl’s hands for weeks now, obviously full of secrets since she felt the need to cast a locking spell on it. She thought she had been subtle about it, but he had seen her do it every time she closed it in the great hall or the common room.

But it wasn’t in her hands, it was poking out of a pile of books a random second year boy was carrying. He frowned, leaving George’s side to follow the Ravenclaw boy round the corner and down an empty hall.

“Hey!” He called out, making the younger boy jump in surprise. “Is that yours?” He pointed to the book in his arms, making his eyes widen in fear at the tall redhead. Everyone knew who they were, but they were always known for being easygoing. Now his stern tone instilled fear in the boy’s face as he got closer. He shook his head, the red book falling as he scrambled away in a panic, not wanting to stick around to find out what Fred would do if he found out it was stolen during the storm.

“Little bugger.” Fred mumbled, picking it up and seeing the page that it had fallen open onto. He could hear footsteps running after him and quickly shoved the book into his robes, turning just in time to see his brother turn the corner with a look of confusion on his face.

“What was that all about?” He asked.

“Oh, nothing. I just thought I saw something…” Fred trailed off, quickly losing George’s interest.

“God, anyone would think you’re going mental.”

Maybe he was. Racing after someone over a diary that wasn’t even his, but he had seen the unmistakable scrawling’s of y/n’s writing. Then his name, as clear as day.

-

Fred waited until everyone in his dorm fell asleep before taking out the diary, casting a quiet lumos spell and slipping beneath the covers to secretly read what was inside. He started with the first entry, his name appearing first before the other words faded into view.

Dear Diary,

Maybe I’m going mad, or someone has cursed me to think this way, but something feels different about Fred Weasley. For the first time in years I can definitively tell that it is him when he’s stood beside his brother, instead of having to guess like I used to. It’s like I can finally pick him out in a room, when before he just blended into everyone else, yet when I see him he’s just getting on with his life and doing nothing special.

He’s taller than he used to be, and he smiles more, and his voice is deeper than I realised. But maybe these are all things that I’m just noticing now, because I want to know more. Everything about him makes me want to know more, and I can’t explain why, it’s pure curiosity.

Now when he talks to me, the same way he has done for years, I feel excited and nervous and all these other emotions I wouldn’t have expected to relate to Fred. It’s as if I see him as a new person, like we’ve just met… properly.

Maybe I am going mad, or maybe this is all a prank to him to make me feel this way, but until I fix it I will just have to live with it. I’m hoping writing it down may help hide how I feel from him, for a little while.

Fred’s eyes read fast, each word dragging him in deeper and deeper into her mind, as if he could see every thought as it was produced. He read it over and over, slowly and carefully, to make sure what he had seen was true.

He could never show anyone this, that would crush her, but he enjoyed this little secret. The boy liked knowing that she saw him differently to all the other boys in her life, but what made him the happiest was that he was the only one to know what she was thinking.

[pikemoreno]

face to face

pairing: din djarin x reader

summary: a beautiful day in a safe, pleasant place gets din thinking about the future.

word count: 3.3k

warnings: absolute mush, mild suggestion, not well-edited?

wanna join a taglist? | masterlist

You were never going to be able to leave this place. You'd decided it now. The child was far too enthralled with the puddles, staring at his rippling reflection in each one, intermittently looking back to where you and Din were sitting in the grass. His little green fingers pointed to each patch of water as if to say, "Do you see this too?"

You were seeing it.

And you had been for the previous ten puddles as well.

The riverlands of Dantooine were absolutely gorgeous. The sloping valley below ended in the clearest winding river you’d seen on any planet. And as its singular sun began to set, the river changed to glitter with the most magnificent purples and oranges and pinks. While the little pit stop on the way back from the nearby marketplace was unintentional, you were grateful for the little ade noticing beauty where you were about to miss it in your hurrying. 

Granted, his beauty was himself, but the sentiment remained. He was in no rush today, and you shouldn’t be either. You had a rare couple of days on a beautiful planet where no one was trying to kill you. Why go back to a dreary hunk of metal when you could sit in the soft grass and sweet air with your two favorite people?

“How long do you think he’s gonna keep looking at himself?” Din leaned over and whispered with a chuckle. You chuckled too.

“I’m gonna try something.” You gave Din’s hand a squeeze as you stood, stepping through the tickling grass over to the kid, your shoes long forgone for the feeling of the breeze on them. You kneeled beside him and he grabbed at your pant lag, excitedly pointing at his reflection once again, making a silly face into it and giggling. 

He froze completely when your foot went right through the rippling face in the surface, the water splashing onto him. He looked as though he’d been betrayed and shot: completely frozen, mouth gaping. 

But then he decided he liked it. He slowly, tentatively put his hand in the water and moved it toward you so the water would hit your ankles. That was absolutely hilarious to him, so he took it a little farther, throwing the entirety of his tiny body into it and cackling at splash. You acted shocked that he would splash you back and that made him laugh all the harder, running to the next puddle and splashing into that one-- and the next, and the next, and the next. You grinned and moved back to sit with Din, looping your arm through his and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“And the purpose of that was what? Tracking as much dirty water into the Crest as possible?” He couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed. You could hear the humored lilt in his voice as it crackled in the modulator-- the most pleasant sound you think you’ve ever heard. 

“You’re thinking too small,” you teased, “The kid is going to completely wear himself out and then we’ll get the whole rest of this day off to ourselves.” You looked up to find the little green one practically somersaulting into the puddles, big ears dripping wet. “Maybe tomorrow too, if we’re lucky.” He hummed in response, interlacing your fingers and his.

“I like your thinking.” There was a beat of silence, comfortably normal for you as you didn’t know any better, but filled with hope and anxiety for the man next to you. “That, all of this really, reminds me of something else I’ve been thinking about.”

“What’s that?” You were beyond casual in your prodding to continue, but as you sat up and away from his shoulder and looked to your left, you noticed the darkened visor of the beskar didn’t turn to face you. It remained set on the Dantooine sun setting before you. He wasn’t looking at you-- couldn’t look at you. It was an odd gesture for him. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, he was very keen on maintaining his eye contact with you usually. It felt intimate to him. 

“I was wondering if you would want to marry me.” 

You stopped. No, more than that. Time itself froze around you. The question was so out of the blue you could call it casual, but there was nothing casual about the way he was fidgeting and not meeting your eye. It had him freaked. But since your brain had now all but stopped forming coherent thoughts, all you could manage was a blank, wide-eyed question back:

“Why?”

“Is that a no?” he asked with a humorless laugh, trying to diffuse his apparent rejection.

“No, no,” your hands flew to your face in a flustered manner. You looked back at him after a moment of collecting yourself, “Not at all, Din. You just surprised me. I had no idea that was something you’d ever thought about.”

“Have you?” he asked. His tone wasn’t interrogating or accusatory but curious. 

“I have.” The face of his helmet turned to you. He sat a little taller and stiller now, no longer fidgeting with his hands and scraping at the grass with his boots. You had his full attention and you moved to sit in front of him, your hands on his bent knees. “Every time I can’t sleep and find you in the cockpit with the kid asleep on your lap and you both look so peaceful, I want to wake up to that forever. Every time you risk your life for mine I think about how lucky I would be to have you with me for the rest of my life. Every time I hear you laugh I think about the fact that it’s my favorite sound in the world and how much I would give to hear it without the modulator. I love you Din Djarin, you know that. I have thought so many times about the prospect of marrying you,” you smiled a watery smile, leaning in so your forehead bumped into his in the most intimate gesture of love you’d been able to experience with him so far. You both breathed into it, his shaky exhale the loudest sound in the peaceful valley. You pulled back as he started speaking.

“I’ve thought about marrying you so often. All the time. But especially now, seeing you and the kid so safe and happy, not worrying about chasing or being chased. I want that. This,” he gestured, arms spread wide to indicate the river valley around and, even more so, to indicate the general feeling surrounding your little clan. “I want this.” 

“Let’s do it then,” you grinned giddily as you sat back down next to him, watching the sunset sky’s colors morph and swirl as the little one remained blissfully unaware of what was happening. The new arrangement wouldn’t change much for him anyhow. Ceremony would only make official what he already held to be true: you were his buir just as much as Din was. 

“I’m happy to do whatever you want, cyare. However your home planet does it. But for now, I was hoping we could do the Mandalorian vows. The riduurok. Tonight, if you’re willing.” 

”It’s that easy?” 

“It is. Just us.”

“And I’d get to,” you suddenly felt yourself become a bit bashful, flustered, “See you? Tonight?” He nodded lightly.

“If you want.”

“There’s nothing I want more.”

***

As you had predicted, the kid had totally worn himself out playing in the puddles. He was incredibly grumpy as you pulled him from the water, pouting and whining all the way back to the Crest, reaching grabbing hands back out to the hillside. But he was dead to the world the minute you got him out of the wet, dirtied clothes and settled into the pram. 

You found Din sitting outside, looking out into the sky as it changed into its final dark purples before the sun disappeared on the horizon. You sat next to him, suddenly unsure and nervous for the first time since you really started getting to know him well over a year ago. Both of you sat in a heavy, burning silence for a moment. It was nervous and joyful, anxious and excited, and deathly quiet. There was no one within twenty klicks of the Crest. You could almost hear the river in the deep valley below. 

“Last chance to back out,” he murmured.

“Now why would I ever want that?” You heard a short, pleasant huff from beneath the beskar and guessed he was smiling too. You got antsy as you wondered what that smile looked like, antsier still upon remembering just how close you were to finding that out. He stood up, holding his hand out to you to bring you to your feet as well. As you planted your feet beneath you, he held onto both of your hands and breathed out a nerve-filled exhale, preparing himself to speak. 

“I’m going to go through the riduurok slowly. Repeat after me, alright?” You nodded quickly, but added:

“Would you tell me what it means in Basic too? It means more to know what I’m promising you.” He nodded once in response. The request made his heart leap in his throat and he simply couldn’t trust his voice. He pushed past the knot and began:

"Mhi solus tome. We are one when together.”

“Mhi solus tome,” you repeated to the best of your ability. 

“Mhi solus dar'tome. We are one when parted.”

“Mhi solus dar'tome.” Din corrected your pronunciation and you repeated once again.

“Mhi me'dinui an. We share all.”

“Mhi me'dinui an.”

“Mhi ba'juri verde. We will raise warriors."

“Mhi ba'juri verde,” you finished.

“Good.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“So we’re--?”

“Yes, riduur.” You grinned at the term, one of the few words in your sparse mando’a vocabulary. 

The silence returned then, still nervey and unsure, but so much sweeter. It bubbled and flowed as two people redefined their relationship and attempted to understand how to be in it now. It was broken by Din clearing his throat and the sound of his feet shifting unsteadily in the grass. His stance was small and meek, lacking his usual assured confidence. He knew what was coming next: simultaneously what he was looking forward to and dreading the most. 

He hadn’t exactly heard many comments on his appearance over the years. It wasn’t often that even he knew what he looked like at any given moment. He had little concept of comparison and truly had no idea how he would compare to anyone else you’d ever been attracted to. Now, he wasn’t ridiculous enough to actually believe that you would really care all that much. You’d been through too much together. You agreed to marry him with no basis of appearance at all. It was more than unlikely that you’d change your mind based on appearance now. He knew that.

Of course, that wasn’t on your mind at all. Or, it was, but not in the way he thought. You weren’t taking the trust this required for granted. It was no small thing to have the privilege of seeing Din Djarin face to face. But there was no fear in your mind, only excitement, pure excitement to be that much closer to the man you loved. To touch him, to feel his warmth, to kiss him, to look directly into his eyes and tell him you loved him: all of the things you’d had to experience through a thick layer of opaque, stifling metal thus far. Appearance and potential attraction had much less to do with the weight of this moment for you. Your nerves now came only from respect, not wanting to overstep your bounds. Did you initiate? Surely not. So what did you do? Maybe you were expected to take off the helmet after all? Din must’ve read your racing mind because he took your hands and placed them on either side of his helmeted head, letting them rest there before he moved his own away. 

“Go on,” he whispered. It’s funny, the whispers through the beskar and modulator are so much louder by design. They’re clunky. They crackle and echo strangely, in a way whispers never should. Whispers are for softness, tenderness. Sweet words shared that no one else can understand. You wondered at how even whispers would change after this, finally done as intended. 

It’s high time to find out.

You slowly put pressure on the cooled metal, pressing in and up until it lifted slowly.

You don’t miss the tiny scars at the base of his neck. You wonder what they’re from. You’d have to ask later.

Warm tawny skin.

Lips, lovely and pink and twisted up into the smallest of smiles. 

A strong jaw, scattered with a light stubble-- you liked that a lot.

A perfect nose. 

And-- oh, gorgeously deep brown eyes. One was lit up by the light coming from the open Crest. The glittering light revealed so much in the mahogany: love, adoration, flecks of a lighter shade.

As the helmet cleared the top of his head and you let it fall to the ground with a thunk, dark hair flopped onto his forehead in waves of darkest brown-- nearly black in the dimming light. 

That was it. Both of you were holding your breath. You took it all in once more: bottom to top, eyes gazing at every crinkle and scar and the winkle of his brows as he expectantly watched your eyes trail over him. This feeling was new to him too. Of course he’d been seeing you for the past year and a half, but always through the lens of an obstructing visor. It was far from natural. The new eyelines were almost as special to him as they were to you. 

His nerves were clearly evident on his face now, you didn’t have to rely on his-- admittedly very telling-- body language. It didn’t register to you that he would have anything to possibly be nervous about, but the feeling only grew in him as your eyes watered. He became increasingly tense. 

Were tears good or bad?

Usually bad right? 

Shit. What was wrong? Was it that disappointing?

“What’s wrong?” he finally asked out loud, heart deflating. The sound of his unhindered voice made them well up just a bit more. You couldn’t speak for a moment for fear of your voice cracking. He continued, “I-- I’m sorry. I’ll just--” He gestured lamely. What could he do? Put the helmet back on? Maybe just run away?

“What?” you finally sniffed, clearly seeing how absolutely horror-struck he looked, “No. Nothing’s wrong,” your hand rested on his arm, still beskar-clad, in a reassuring manner. “It’s just,” you exhaled a sharp breath, “Overwhelming. Seeing you, hearing you. I don’t have the right words to describe it.” You laughed, wiping gently at your eyes as your vision cleared now, “I didn’t mean to scare you. It’s not you. I mean it is, but not like that. You’re--” Your rambling was interrupted by lips meeting your own. 

And there was nothing timid about it. 

You bumped noses briefly then readjusted with smiles that couldn’t be contained.

That first kiss was soft, but confident. It was in no rush, knowing it had all the time in the world. There was plenty of time later to dive deeper in exploration. The kiss was just there on the surface and yet the thrill still sent your toes curling. Delicate and slow, yet it demanded to be felt right then. It had waited far too long already. It was strong and wanting and unapologetic about it. 

You pulled back for a breath, being able to finish your sentence, “Beautiful.” 

He responded in that coveted sweet whisper, previously impossible, “And you even more. Mesh’la. Mesh’la.”

The second kiss followed, leaning more into its confidence, bound to immediately take your breath away. Your lips slotted together, his bottom lip between yours. The light pressure you put on it, taking it into your mouth just slightly, seemed to strike a chord with him. He gasped slightly and his hands flew to your hips. He pulled back from the kiss, returning and changing position so he could use that same bit of magic on you, capturing your lip in between his. It was no less intoxicating to you.

More kisses followed in quick succession, each exploring that much more, experimenting with tempo and weight and position. Sure you had all the time in the world, but why wait for it to come? 

You pulled back eventually, letting your foreheads rest against each other as you caught your breath, much in the same way as you might’ve in a keldabe kiss previously, but this new way of it occurring flesh to flesh sent goosebumps up your arms. Your hand meeting clanking metal when you brought it to his upper arm reminded you that there was more to be done, new ways to get closer. You slid your hand down to his as you pulled back from the embrace and deftly removed his glove, then the other, letting them fall to the ground next to the helmet. You kissed each scarred knuckle and he laughed lightly, murmuring,

“Tickles.”

Oh, the unmodulated laugh was better than you could’ve imagined. You laughed too, looking back up at him, “The fearsome Mandalorian is… Ticklish?” 

“Ne'johaa,” he responded playfully, leaning forward to nudge his nose against yours. Shut up, he had said. Another one of the few mando’a phrases in your vocabulary, funnily enough.  

“Now. I think you’re still wearing far too much beskar, riduur.” 

In an instant he had taken the helmet and gloves off of the ground and you had him back in the Crest. With every piece of beskar removed, you pressed a kiss to the spot through the much thinner cloth that’d been beneath it-- a reminder that there was more to explore later.

Forearm. Kiss.

Bicep. Kiss.

Chest. Kiss. Lingering and loving, sending shivers up his spine.

Hip. Kiss. Another ticklish spot. 

Thigh. Kiss. A groan from Din. You grinned.

You moved back up to press a quick kiss to his lips once again, your arms slipping around his waist as you tightly embraced him-- what was really him-- for the first time. He was ridiculously warm and you wondered if that was a normal occurrence or a result of the kisses and touches. You pressed your face into his chest, breathing in his scent: smoke from the marketplace and the light-smelling soap he used that morning. His arms found their home around your shoulders in turn, gripping onto you as though you might float away if he let go. He buried his face in your hair with a hum, pressing sporadic kisses as you stayed in each other’s arms for a moment. The unprecedented amount of touch was completely overwhelming in the best way. 

Being face to face was better than he could’ve dreamed. 

And he had. More than a few times. 

He couldn’t believe that he could do this. It felt almost wrong in a way, like there was no way he should ever get to feel like this. He let a tear or two slip as he breathed in the smell of your hair: like the strange, vaguely fruity shampoo you found at a market a couple of stops back and a hint of the woodsy smell of spending a day outside.

“Thank you, cyare,” he whispered eventually, sniffing a little.

“For what?

“For wanting this too,” he sighed, “I won’t disappoint you. You and that kid are going to have the best, happiest life. I promise.” You pulled back, looking into his eyes intently. You wanted him to hear every word clearly.

“We already do, Din. If we live in a house here on Dantooine or some mansion on Naboo or on this ship for the rest of our lives, it’s going to be the best, happiest life I could’ve asked for.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more. Let’s go to bed while ade is asleep.” You suggested, mischievous smile reaching your eyes as he led you back to the cot by the hand, pressing feather light kisses to the inside of your wrist, a brand new sensation that thrilled you both. He smirked. You could see it now, clear as day across his face, but it would’ve been more than evident in his voice alone.

“Whatever you want, riduur,”

Being face to face was far better than he could’ve dreamed. 

permanent taglist: @acomplicatedprofession @hdlynn @makaela27 @space-floozy @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @princessbatears @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @findhimfives @mistermiraclee​​ @marydjarin​​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​​ @miss-leto​​ @spacegayofficial​​ @winters-buck​​ @phoenixhalliwell​​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​​ @mrpascals​​ @aerynwrites​​ @jigglemiwa​​ @manda-not-lorian @dindjarindiaries​​ @pancakepike​​ @huliabitch​​ @sammiesweet​​ @randomness501​​

din taglist: @buckstaposition​ @dirty-dancefl00r5​ @fleetwoodmactshirt​

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Love you too.

A/N: This was initially supposed to be smut but my brain went hay wire and ended in angst. More Mayans coming next week! 

MASTERLIST

Also, if I keep tagging you and you’re not interested or want to be tagged; please let know!

Word Count: 2210

Ezekiel Reyes x Reader

Warnings: language, angst, Ez being an asshole, heartbreak, more angst 

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

Ezekiel couldn’t resist ogling Y/N from across the overly crowded bar. Cigar smoke filtrated throughout, pool cues ricocheted, and Y/N dawned that brilliant smile of hers. Her candied glimpse combined with her impeccably short dress, and irrevocably sexiness drove Ez to the brink of combustion. Ez perched an elbow against the wood bar top watching Y/N’s hypnotizing demeanor. She shot him a playful glance unwilling to draw her attention elsewhere than from the beautiful man across the room.

Her voice oozed of alcoholic flirtation as she bit her lower lip catching his interest and walking his way.

“Come here often, hotshot?”

There was no denying the sly chuckle that slipped off his lips; “Smooth line. How often does that one actually work?”

Her kittenish nature only stoked his fire lighting a fire in his belly.  

“Well…my boyfriend usually falls for it but he’s kinda into that cutesy bullshit. Come to think of it, you might know him. Tall, dark, and handsome? Ring any bells?”

Her insinuated attitude was driving him crazy. Unbeknownst to Y/N, his cock stirred in the confines of his jeans. She wanted to force his hand, compel to his more dominant side. His blood seethed as his eardrums hummed of desolate waves. Ez bit his tongue to stop the trickle of words begging to slink from his lips.

“Sounds like a sucker. Didn’t think a pretty chica like you to be taken? Such a shame.”

Y/N’s raised an eyebrow in curiosity wondering how much longer she could push him before he turned into putty.

“Now, now. I don’t appreciate you talking shit about my man. It’d be best if you watch yourself.”

Y/N excelled when a challenge presented itself.  Defiance buried in her very pitch as she scooted closer to the man in question. Now elbow to elbow, Y/N rested her cheek against her knuckles coyishly.

“Baby, if you keep smiling like that, my panties will be drenched before we have the chance to do a damn thing about it.”

Leaning closer in;” Please don’t fuck it up.”

“Oh, so you’re admitting I turn you on…make you wet?” There was no hiding the devilish grin cemented on his perfect face.

Her face furiously flushed at his choice words; “Most definitely, E. In all honesty, I’m not wearing underwear because matter of fact just looking at that gorgeous jawline of yours is way too much for my ovaries to handle.”

His tongue met the roof of his mouth creating a tsk sound reverberating from his mouth. Y/N rubbed her thighs together in hopes of alleviating her eccentric inner bits. Y/N pushed her falling tendrils from her face tilting her head his direction. Her hand made quick work caressing her inner breasts as Ez watched her chest beat rapidly.

“Mmmhm, and this girl is hoping her boyfriend just might be able to sneak away from his boys for a minute to properly fuck his girl. But I’d hate to force your hand….”

“I hope you know the punishment that ensues for this behavior baby girl…”

“Oh, so you admit you’ll punish me? God, I’ve been dying for you to fuck me all night. Finally, you got the hint, Prospect.”

Ezekiel chucked at her cleverness. He’d long fallen for the woman before him, but he appreciated the constant challenge she reciprocated time and time again.

“What are you trying to hint at, Y/N?”

“You know exactly what I want and you’re playing coy if you don’t.”

Y/N rested her hand atop his shoulder as his hand perched upon the dip of her luscious hip. Leaning in dangerously close, she trailed sleek kisses against the slick of his neck. Each smooth trailed upwards towards his ear as Y/N leaned in seductively close.

“It’s cute thinking you don’t want to fuck the shit out of me here. Your bashfulness never seizes to amaze me.”

Her hands grazed down his defined abs brutishly stroking the outer layer of his jeans.

“But your dick seems to tell another story.”

Ezekiel gazed around the room watching his brothers too distracted by pool cues and babes to notice their interaction laughing aloud.

“If you haven’t noticed I’m still their bitch boy and I can’t just slip away without someone noticing.”

“Oh, but I promise you won’t have to travel far. The bathrooms are only a few feet away. So, if you’re interested in fucking your super-horny girlfriend, meet me there in five minutes. If not, I’ll just have to do the job myself. But don’t worry, I’ll send you the video.”

“You’re such a goddamn brat, you know that? …” Ez moved his hand grazing his clothed crotch as a moan alluded her.

“Can’t you feel how hard I am for you right now? It turns you on, doesn’t it?”

“Oh yes, dear boyfriend. If you’re bating me then yes, I do want to fuck you here and now.”

“So quick to make demands when you’re in no position to do so. Shit, I can’t wait to nestle so fucking deep within you, to hear you begging for me. Someone needs to fuck the brat outta ya.”

“Oh, it’s so cute you think I’ll beg. My pussy is your haven, don’t forget that.”

Y/N added just an inch of space between their sweltering bodies unwilling to give into him so easily.

“So, I’ll take your erect cock as a yes. You know where I’ll be…”

Y/N walked by him dripping in her own seductive nature. Ez reached towards her gripping her arm in exchange; “You have no idea what I want to do to you.”

“Well guess you can prove it to me.”

“Oh, you tease….”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out!”

“You little…”

“Brat? That’s right, only one person makes me act this way, feel this way and that person is you. So, whether you like it or not, deal with it.”

“Oh, I’ll deal with you alright. Soon enough you’ll be begging me to fuck you.”

“I completely intend on it. In fact, I’ll leave the ball in your court.”

Y/N sauntered past him making sure to graze her breasts against his trunk; “You know where I’ll be.” She winked his way hoping for Ez to catch her hint before walking towards the bathroom hoping the one person she’d hoped would follow. Ezekiel Reyes was genuinely her other half, someone who understood every intricate design she’d been allotted.

 Coco approached the Ez clasping his shoulder; “How are you the luckiest bastard outta all of us, Prospect? You get to tap that on the daily? Not fair cabrón.”

His angelic curls fell gently upon his forehead as that signature smirk of his appeared.

“In my defense, she’s a little shit that she tests my patience every damn day. But, yes, I gotta agree with you. I’m the luckiest bastard outta all of us.”

“So quit fuckin talking to me and go get yo girl, newbie.”

Ez nodded agreeing with Coco. He was torn between his club obligations and chasing after Y/N, his eyes bouncing back and forth.

“Don’t worry. I’ll cover you. 10 minutes… now go before I change my mind!”

“Thanks, brother. I owe you one.”

“Damn right you do, now go!”

His boots pounded against the wood; his strides picked up taking him quickly to his destination. Ez’s anticipation peaked as he neared the bathroom door rattling the handle. Ez stood dumbfounded to find the door locked…

“Querida, I know you’re in there. I’m gonna have to teach you a lesson, ain’t I?”

Y/N whispered back through the door; “I’m counting on it.”

The click of the door gave way unlocking as Ez stepped inside swiftly shutting the door behind him. He eyed Y/N like she was his last and final meal wanting to devour her from the outside in. The startled look in her misty eyes only excited him more. He stalked towards her; Y/N walked backwards in sync with him. Soon enough, the back of her thighs met the cold cabinet. Her skin crawled of goosebumps as her panting increased significantly.

“You bait me all night, wearing this ungodly short piece of fabric that barely covers anything on this gorgeous body of yours, and you have the audacity to talk shit?”

Electricity stifled their small quarters as Ez’s hands played with her hemline. Wet kisses tickled down her collar bone. Y/N tilted her head allowing Ez easier access. Torturously slow, Ez pressed the material upwards above her curvy hips revealing her bare pussy.

“No underwear. Glad to see you weren’t lying.”

Y/N slapped his chest in jest; “One thing I will never do is lie to you Ezekiel Reyes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  

Only adding fuel to the fire, Y/N grasped his chin between her fingers forcing his gaze to remain on her and only her. She squeezed tightly enough to grab his fleeting attention.

“I don’t joke about that shit, E. I’ve never felt this way before. Don’t spoil it just yet.”

The crow’s feet near his eyes softened exhaling all the excess air loitering in his lungs. His infamous puppy dog looks triggered charging their electricity. Forgetting her momentarily exposure, Y/N closed the gap kissing him with every inch of might fathomable. She mustered every ounce of desire to which Ez gladly reciprocated.

Their moans intermingled as Ez tapped her thigh signaling to jump on the counter. Her legs spread unconscious creating the perfect amount of space for him to slide into. His hands travelled along her sides before finding home and squeezing the globes of her luscious ass.  Every dimple and indention turned him on. An illicit squeak was the only other sound accompanying their heavy breathing.

“Please, E.” A whiny undertone whirred to life.

“Please what? I’m right here.”

Her legs wrapped around his hips securely pulling him closer. His jeans rubbed deliciously against her exposed thighs only teasing her further.

“I want you. All of you, Ezekiel Reyes. Forever.”

Something unexplainable shifted in that moment as Ez gazed down at the girl pinned beneath him. For so long, he’d wanted this, dreamt of her, and now he wasn’t sure how to handle himself. The last time he gave himself so freely to another ended up burning him. Emily was his first love but Y/N, Y/N was his epic love. The twinkle in her eyes welcomed him time and time again silently begging for permission. Suddenly it wasn’t just about sex and pleasure but an opportunity of redemption.

“You feel it too, right?”

Y/N pulled back from his grasp embarrassed at her newfound honesty. “Ugh, I’m fucking it up, aren’t I? I didn’t mean for things to get so intense in a fucking bathroom of all places?”

Just as she moved to hop down, Ez stopped her. His this, this life he chose was no place for a woman like Y/N. And though his heart beat victoriously in his chest, Ezekiel knew what had to done. There was no way in hell he’d allow her to morph into his fucked-up life. He wanted to shout it to the rooftops; I’m in love with you too.

He was ripping at the seams dying to scream his unprofessed love but once again denying the beast within him. His silence was enough of an answer. Y/N frowned trying to hide the quiver of her chin. Looking away, Y/N furiously blinked hoping to will her unshed tears into oblivion. Her purity and compassion were too much at risk to sacrifice.

“Y/N….”

“No, don’t Ezekiel.”

“I think we want different things, things I can’t offer you.”

The rumbles in her chest cascaded violently like waves attacking a cliff. His rejection stung like ravenous bees.

“You can but you won’t. There’s a difference! God! I fall for this shit every time. You lure me back in and just when I break through your heavily guarded walls you pull back and shoo me away. How many times do you have to remind me you don’t want me, E?”

A lone tear streaked down her cheek. Sadness swallowed her whole plummeting to an unimaginable depth. His thumb inadvertently reached for the droplet but she flinched in the nick of time. Defeat coursed through his blood. His subconscious screamed for him to speak but nothing came out. Her words seared him, his own personal brand of pain. Calm down heart.

“Tell me you feeling nothing and I’ll never ask again.”

The somber quietness remained suffocating both parties. It was then that the truth finally dawned on him like boulders falling from the sky. Sometimes the hardest battle we fight is the battle within ourselves.

“Jeez, Ez. Guess I got my answer. Next time you have one of your urges, don’t call me, ever.”

Her warm palm pressed against his pectoral lightly shoving him. The minute distance was enough to destroy him. Her rejection simmered into her movements. With her strength fast depleting, Y/N craved fresh fall air. She stopped in place looking over her sunken shoulder; “It’s sad when someone you know becomes someone you knew. Have a nice life, Reyes.”

Now that she had nothing to lose, she was free. Free to mourn the love she so tragically denied. She distracted herself to save herself. After all, how often do we get a second chance…

~~~~~

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[spiltscribbles]

Oooh! Prompts! Remus and Sirius moving in together please! 💛

Notes: Thank you SO SO much gorgeous<3 I’m like kinda embarrassed that this is kinda shit, especially because you’re writing is so fucking gorgeous, so I’m sorry.

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A Reblog Is Worth A Thousand Stars  |  Send Me A Prompt 

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“YOU!”

With a start that almost makes him drop the vase in his hands, Sirius turns around to find his surly looking  boyfriend glaring daggers straight at him, lips pursed and nose wrinkled ever so fetchingly. “Me?”

“You!”

“ Is this a Muggle game of semantics or something Moons, because for the life of me I’m not following.”

Remus’s glower only deepens, radiating a distinct sort of disapproval that could only ever be  honed in by years of prefectness. “You thief!” He squawks, hands perched on his hips, and mouth twisted up mutinously.

“Is this the part where you say I stole your heart?” Sirius goads with a cocked brow, resuming their unpacking.  “Because love, that line gets old after the millionth recital, but I do appreciate the spirit.”

“Wha? Na—no that is not what I was going to say you egotistical prick!” Remus scoffs— just a bit flustered with a dusting of pink touching the tops of his sharp cheekbones. “You ate the last spring role!” He accuses emphatically, almost tripping over the over a dozen boxes that are strewn across their newly furnished living room. Sirius can’t help but be endeared by Remus and his everythingness. 

“Yes, yes I did Wise Guy,” He confirms distractedly. “I also dipped it into some spicy mustard and drank a bottle of water while I was at it… Your point being?”

“My point you utter berk is that it was mine! I called dibs!”

“I remember no such thing,” Sirius sniffs haughtily, moving to rearrange the photographs  on their mantel. (And yeah, it’s still fucking insane to him that he’s become so domestic that he’s got a mantel over the fireplace that the man he loves more than any other had insisted was absolutely crucial to have if they were to move in together—probably for really romantical love making sessions in front  of it’s flames with the bliss of  no worries of anyone barging in on them, or griping  if they were being to loud—Which by the way, James honestly  had no right in complaining about considering his track record with his and Lily’s on again, off again mating ritual.

“Liar!" Sirius honestly  wouldn’t be surprised if Remus started stomping his feet right about now, and pouting up a storm if the childishly  cross expression    on his pretty face is anything to go by. (And honestly how could one man be so adorable and sexy all at once.)  “You were finishing up the shrimp tempura— because you are a posh idiot without any tastebuds— , and I said that I’ll be right back to get some of the boxes in the spare room, and to save it for me! And then I come here, and I find this! This breach of all we’ve built together!”

Sirius barely conceals his snort. “Is that right? The foundations of our whole, entire bloody relationship? And right after this afternoon, when I made you—“

Two spots of color blotch high on Remus’s cheeks and he cuts him off before Sirius can completely recount the frankly remarkable romp they had just finished with before deciding they needed some nourishment before getting back to unpacking. “Don’t you try to change the subject you stealing stealer who steals!”

“That insult leaves something to be desired Moonbeam.”

“You’re a prick.”

“And you wound me!” Sirius mock sobs, slamming his fist against his chest and swinging back his arm against his forehead. “A plague on you, and your family! And another on your family’s cow.”

Remus’s face morphs into his painfully unimpressed expression, (Hint, it’s very, very flat). “I’ll take your intentional dodge as an admission,” He scoffs, arms crossed tight against his chest.

“I admit nothing!” Sirius shouts in an overdone accent that would better fit the set of Downton Abbey. “Nothing Lupin!”

Remus rolls his eyes at Sirius’s hyperbolic attitude, and okay. Yes. Perhaps Sirius remembers a similar conversation akin to what Remus had described  occurring only ten minutes prior. But to be quite honest, Sirius was hardly listening. Remus’s got on one of Sirius’s oversized t-shirts, a pair of boxer-briefs,  and nothing else. So yeah, he should definitely not be expected to be paying anything any mind while his beyond gorgeous boyfriend is sitting there, impossibly long legs put out for display, and one perfectly alabaster   shoulder bare where the shirt has slipped right off, effectively derailing  Sirius's thoughts to how he’d teasingly kissed across his collar bone just earlier that night, nibbling on the hinge of his jaw while Remus had been  writhing beneath him. so   Really and truly, he should’ve never been expected to remember anything— let alone something as trivial as dibs—  if his utterly perfect partner is right there for the taking, a determined dent between his brows, and intermittently rinsing his hand through his disheveled locks of hair like  spun gold, excited  over the prospect of fixing up this flat that is now their home.

Dear Merlin above   does Sirius love this bloke with every fiber of his being.

“Well,” he relents, swaggering up closer to Remus so that they’re standing only inches apart.  “Even if I did remember that such a discussion had taken place how you’ve described it—“

“It did, and you know it Black!” He harrumphs, using Sirius’s  surname just to get a rise out of him.

“Well, there’s nothing we can do about it now love, is There?.”

Sirius’s sure that he’s won the argument and they could just move on, until he catches the glint in Remus’s impossibly luminous eyes—a glint that always means trouble, a glint that’s never failed to make each one of Sirius’s nerve endings go ablaze.

“Is that right?”

“I reckon it is Moonbeam,” he leers, is momentarily distracted by the downright angelic smile Remus casts his way right then, but suddenly, an onslaught of fingers are piercing into his ribs, wiggling and tickling him into submission.

“Say you’re sorry!” Remus demands, an effortless grin of his own swept across his lovely face, brighter than the morning sun. And yeah, maybe Sirius should just admit that it was his bad, apologize a thousand times over in the form of lingering kisses and caressing hands.… But the thing is, Sirius’s  stubbornness  has always been too rigid for his own good, and he’s always loved prodding at Remus till He just went off like the world’s most darling firecrackers.

“Never you absolute wanker!”

“I won’t relent till you profess an apology to my satisfaction,” Remus scoffs— a playful giggle lilting his overly formal words.

“And I won’t surrender!” He parries with a leer. Sirius tickles back  harder, and Remus  shimmies around so much that He ends up jabbing him in the eye,  ramming straight into his chest, and  effectively sprawling them—all long limbs and crooked angles—onto the wooden floorboards.

“Just say you’re sorry!” He insists, strangled laughter starting to gargle his words while Sirius just gazes down at him, mercilessly besotted.

“”S not my fault you didn’t take it with you Lupin, i’ve committed no grievance.”

“Oh come off it pretty boy.”

“Oy! I’m ruggedly handsome you arse!”

“Testy, testy.”

 “You’re the pretty one.”

“Oh suck my cock.”

“Been there done that.”

Remus seems to be fighting down another laugh before he knees him lightly in the abdomen enough that Sirius tenses, giving Remus the chance to  switch their positions once again, so that  He’s back  on top. 

“My have the tables turned,” He taunts with one of his most dazzling smiles, dimples in full effect, and crinkles around his pretty sea glass eyes.

“I like how you think I’m at all opposed to this position,” Sirius says with a pixilated gleam, arching back enough so that their cotton clad dicks buck up against each other.

“Perv!” Remus scolds, smacking his chest playfully. “Now admit that I won!”

“Never!”

 Somehow, amidst all the thrashing bodies and choked peals of laughter, Sirius flips him over— slight body beneath his own, with Remus’s wrists pinned over his head and his legs wrapped around Sirius’s waste.

“Now, now Monsieur Moony, I reckon that spring has rolled into winter for you,” Sirius most definitely does not laugh raucously    at his own pun.

“That’s not even the direction that the seasons go in,” Remus frowns, nose wrinkled indelicately, a tell Sirius’s picked up on whenever He’s mad over an outcome.

“You still lost though,” Sirius barbs with no real bite, pecking a quick kiss to his lips in solace.

“You’re awful, and I’m breaking up with you,” Remus sniffs in turn—wiggling underneath him to try and get loose.

“Oh, you love me really.” Sirius preens like the cat who’s caught the canary— the world’s most beautiful and brilliant and ruffled canary that is.

“Lies and slander!” Remus waggles his tongue between his teeth, and Sirius dips down to bite it teasingly. 

“Hmm, now isn’t this cute,” the pair scramble away from each other, utterly stunned once spotting Lily of all people, gaze twinkling and lips set into a firm smirk, eyeing them while leisurely lounging against the door frame. 

“You two really can’t keep yr sodding hands off of each other, can you?”

Remus completely reddens, totally flustered, while Sirius only follies back a smug sort of grin at the force of nature  that is Lily Evans, his practical sister-in-law, remus’s best friend, and all around genius.

“How long have you been watching Red dearest,” Sirius asks wryly, making it so now Lily’s the one who’s flushing..

“I hate you Black.” She says shortly, and Sirius’s beam doesn’t falter. “Re, as your spiritual older sister—“

“You’re barely a month older Lils,” Remus interjects, but Lily just goes on as if he hadn’t.

 “I think it’s my job to remind you that he’s not the only bloke in London with a decent shoulder to waste ratio and nice hair. We can snag you someone with a bit of brains even.”

Sirius tosses her a V shaped salute, and Lily sticks her tongue out in retaliation,  but for his part, Remus only tries to cut through the tension with one of his friendlier grins, though it just comes out as an awkward grimace. “I forgot that you’re dropping off the boxes tonight.”

“Evidently Ace,” she snorts, strutting further into the apartment and setting down the box of photos Remus had asked her to bring over from their old place. “Far too busy snogging with the boy who single handedly received the most detentions in Hogwarts history, while also, somehow— by the grace of God— threatened our stances as top of the class.”

“Oy Evans, can’t take all the credit for myself. Jem was my better half, till he moved on to the likes of you.”

Lily ignores him, save for the way her pretty face gets a bit scrunched out of irritation. “Ace, I ask you, what would McGonagall say if she saw her favorite prefect gallivanting around with such a delinquent.

Remus lets out one of his rare and beautiful laughs, something that feels buoyant and is really more breath than sound, but is still so vibrant and splendid and it never fails to thrust Sirius back to the Hogwarts Express, where he and Remus had first met as a couple of wide eyed eleven year olds, and all the contradicting emotions Remus had provoked upon first sight. Wonder, and confusion. Intrigue, and diffidence. Wanting, and fear. It’s an attribute of Remus's that Sirius will never not be amazed by.

“Ah, Minnie my love, how I do miss her so, now where were we Moonbeam?”

“I’m still standing here Black,” Lily reproves with a scoff.

“I think it was about here,” Sirius continues, dipping down to kiss at Remus’s protruding  collar bones.

“Settle down mutt,” Remus rebukes with no real heat, a gentle hand carding through Sirius’s hair.

“God, you two are already an old married couple.”

“You really do know the best moments to interrupt sweetheart.” Sirius snipes with a playful roll to his eyes, his hand discretely resting over the small of Remus’s back.

“And you have no decency, corrupting   Remus the way that you do.”

“Okay first, I take fucking offense, you know better than me that Moony here was the mastermind behind most of our delightful pranks.”

“You mean your childish inconveniences you plagued on the unsuspecting public?”

“And secondly, we didn’t even get to the fun, currupting   part because of your oh so lovely interruption.” Sirius retorts moodily, though he soon suspects the joke was a wrong play to make  when Lily’s smile suddenly goes predatory and sHe flips back a lock of her wind blown curls, ready to pounce. 

“Well perhaps I just stopped by to make sure you weren’t further defiling   my dear Remus. But I guess that giant love bite on your neck proves that I’m too late.”

Sirius can’t help the chuckle that pours out of his lips at her needled observation, smacking a hand to conceal the hickey sHe’s taunting him about, knowing exactly where it is, it’s been a topic of teasing all morning long from a smug Sirius to a properly indignant Remus.

“He-he just marks easily,” Remus pipes out, cheeks completely infused red and worrying on his bottom lip. Sirius suspects that Lily just knew that the one chink in his armor is prodding at Remus’s less than poised acts. 

Lily rolls her eyes in a way that convinces Sirius that sHe doesn’t believe it for a second. “Whatever you say oh Saint Remus,” sHe smirks with no more argument. “but pray tell, are you guys about done swapping spit around me? Or is that going to forever be a regular occurrence in the Remus and Sirius show?”

“Now I’d reckon that’ll get a sold out crowd every night, don’t you?” Sirius asks, directing his question at the pair of  of them while taking Remus’s hand, and pushing him even closer— just always preferring to have some sort of contact with him.

“Oh put a sock in it,” Remus harrumphs, finally starting to return to his normal coloring in the midst of Lily’s unrestrained cackles.

“Aw, don’t be shy love, it’s only the truth.”

Remus presses the pads of his fingers to Sirius’s lips and glares at him for good measure, “Some things are better left for private.”

“Hah,” Lily scoffs, weight slung to her left hip. “As if I don’t get a front row seat every time  you two are within even in a ten foot radius of each other—OH hey, I know that look Ace! The one eyed squint, and the teeth. Well your “I’m about to kill my gorgeous best friend,” look has no place here, i’ll see my way out now. Just promise not to christen every room in this place, kay? We’d all like to visit without the residual specs haunting us! And I know how moody you get without your daily dose of my scintillating company.”

Sirius thinks that Remus’s trying to skewer a whole in the spot where Lily was just standing, if the terribly cross look on his face says anything. It’s precious, Sirius can’t help but snicker.

“Don’t laugh at me! I’m your boyfriend for Merlin’s sake! You’re s’pose to be on my side!”

“I wasn’t laughing at you Moons,” he kisses the fingers Remus has still got on his mouth, mock consolatory.  “Just incredibly turned on.”

That dent between Remus’s brows is back again for a moment, but then his beauteous features smoothen out and He just pecks a quick kiss to Sirius’s lips before rifling through the box Lily brought over, muttering a light,”Whatever,” as He does so.

There’s a quick wrapping to the window, and Sirius glances over to find his owl— Odysseus— with a bundle of letters attached to his left leg. By rote, Sirius feeds him some of the pellets they keep  there for convenience, and unwinds the bundle of parchments, beginning to shuffle through them.

There’s a copy of the Nightly prophet with the murder of another Muggle family splattered all over the front cover in a sickeningly gauche manner, a free trial subscription to the Quibbler with a reading for Scorpios in the month of October, a letter from Peter about his mum and sisters driving him up the rails, an invitation from Marlene for he and Remus to come out to dinner with them for Dorcas’s Birthday, and a ominous letter from James of all paper that simply says a gift for Moony.

Bewildered to why he hadn’t just sent it along with Lily, Sirius tares off the attached photograph only to find something truly, horrendously vile. a photograph of himself. One that was definitely taken fifth year— Sirius’s worst year where he absolutely could not stand being around his family for a moment longer, and James was getting more settled with his studies, an Remus was dating that prefect prick from Ravenclaw and was exceedingly elusive from Marauders nights out.  This was so obviously taken on one of those aforementioned nights out that it’s comical.  Sirius’s hair is as long as it’s ever been— touching the tops of his shoulders— and he’s chugging down a fruity, pink concoction— the type  that Rosmerta was always cooking up for them— hand over fist, and he’s got on puppy ears and a fake nose. In layman’s terms he looks like a complete and total pillock. Drunk off his ass so much so that you can see the stars in his eyes even through the clunky glasses he had stolen from James— convinced that he was sporting them for purely esthetic reasons and not because the knob is actually as blind as a bloody bat— and his finger is pointed and mouth is open in the way it always is when he’s ranting about something or the other.

It’s perhaps the only photograph in history where Sirius isn’t looking his typical, jaw dropping gorgeous self.

There’s about a thousand different retorts he wants to scribble on a spare parchment and  shoot right back to James— ranging from nasty to downright despicable— but then he catches the familiar peal of laughter coming from behind him. He’s not surprised when he sees Remus—beautiful, ingenuous, perfect Remus who’s physically incapable of taking a photograph less than effortlessly lovely, even while pissed— peering over his shoulder in utter amusement.

“Oh My God I need to ask James to send me one of the hundreds of copies he surely has.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Sirius retorts darkly.

“I’ll use an enlarging charm and hang it up above the mantel, for prosperity. The one time Sirius looks the way he acts,” he moves his hand over an invisible marquee and looks so damn smug that Sirius could kiss him, and in fact, that’s exactly what he does.

“I hate him,” is all he says afterwards, once he’s pulled away.

“I can’t believe that’s you!” Remus continues with eyes full of mirth.

“I want to banish him, no. No I want to banish all of them. All of our friends, we can make knew ones Moons. I mean look at us! We’re a catch!” He tosses the letters onto the newly acquired sofa as if they have personally affronted  him and all he stands for.

“ Oh brilliant idea love.”

“That sounds like your sarcastic voice Moons.”

“No, you’ve got my full support. this’s our castle Pads, we can banish whom ever we like,” Remus balances on his tiptoes,  and smacks an exasperated kiss onto his cheek. Sirius can barely contain the glee that’s dancing in his eyes at the thought of this being their own personal castle— a fortress just for the pair of them to escape within—  causing another swell of fondness to pound in his chest.

“Well maybe we can give’m another chance,” he relents, melting into how Remus’s locked his arms around his neck, and is smiling up at him with all the love in the world shining unadulteratedly in his lovely eyes. “I mean they did help us move all those boxes and all.”

Remus hums his agreement while he presses his forehead against his own, endlessly endeared.

“What a generous king,” He goads, words hugged with fondness. 

“Ooo, I like that, call me that in bed and I might bless you with my royal sector.”

Remus thumps his nose, “Your more tolerable when you don’t speak and just stand there being pretty.”

“Aw, you think I’m pretty Moonykins?”

Remus shakes his head ruefully, the smile on his face one that Sirius knows well— one that means he’s reluctantly endeared. “Dork.”

“Plonker.”

There lips meet for another kiss and it feels like all the resplendence in the galaxy being distilled between just the two of them.

[blkpnkwriting]

first time | sadism/masochism | gags | baths

jennie x f!reader

NOTE: this is a little longer than the rest will mostly likely be because i wanted to honour the request someone made literally years ago for jennie x reader first time (i.e. i’m the worst)

Red splashed up the far wall of your bedroom, crawled over the carpet as Jennie switched on the small light source. So, it was a lava lamp. Someone sue you, you liked having it as a lamp even if it wasn’t the 90’s anymore. But there you went overreacting to the littlest thing again, and a lava lamp was the least of your worries. The clock read a late hour, but not late enough to condone Jennie facing back to you in evident puzzlement. Since the pair of you had left the house party, you could barely string enough words together through the muddle of your brain to explain why you had to leave. You just did.

“Are you okay?” the brunette asked, shrugging off the fur bomber jacket she wore against the nip of night air. Underneath was a sheer top that soaked up the ebbing glow of the lamp with an eerie crimson aura. The juxtaposition between the ominous light and the concern etched on her face was only furthering your confusion.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good! I — well, I just… forget it.” It came forth as a scramble of syllables. You were pacing, running a hand through your hair and deciding it was best you took something off, too. Your fingers could barely undo the clasp of your skirt but was stopped when Jennie was suddenly at your side, taking your hand, turning you back to her. Your best friend knew you better than you knew yourself most times, and even if she didn’t, it wasn’t hard for anyone to discern you were downright flustered.

“Was it that girl? The redhead? What did she do — I’m going to ruin her life if she—!”

Jennie was on the right path, but leave it to her to jump to conclusions, hand squeezing yours protectively.

“No, no! It wasn’t like that…” You interrupted. You were going to have to explain the tangle of emotions if you wanted her to relax. And you did owe her an explanation for blanching abruptly and dragging her out of the building before either of you had finished your first cocktail. Now, you could feel it filtering out of your system, eased on by the anxiety pushing your blood faster through your heart. “She was… nice. Really nice. I think she might’ve even liked me?”

The look on Jennie’s face was cute. Cocking her head, “Why the hell did you run away then?”

You flapped your arms, appearing like a petulant child for a second. Then, “I don’t know what I’m doing!”

Jennie glanced around the dim room before landing her eyes back on you. “You’re in your room, talking to me?” A hand met your cheek. “Are you feeling alright? How much did you drink?”

“I’ve never had sex, Jennie!” You blurted out. It came with a heavy pant. Honestly, you could’ve done better explaining it with less simple terms, but it was the truth and it was out. Not like it was shocking. Jennie was the first person you told after each time you made out with a stranger in a bathroom or that one boy back in high school under the bleachers. There was no way she would have missed you having sex for the first time somewhere in there. “I don’t know what I’m doing in the bedroom…”

It still surprised Jennie. She blinked, open her mouth. Shut it. Finally, “She wanted to sleep with you?”

“No,” you admitted, sagging slightly. “I could just tell we were clicking and she was putting on the moves. She was interested. And I’m not sure what happened but it just got into my head that it could… lead to that. Sex. And I just sort of panicked.” It was your turn to blink. “Oh my god, I just walked away from her…”

Jennie’s giggle was enough to draw you back to the moment with her. Watching her, you knew the girl at the party didn’t amount to much in your world. Not when so much of it was occupied with your best friend. It wasn’t your typical ‘in love with your straight best friend’ bit, considering Jennie wasn’t exactly straight herself. But there wasn’t a whole lot to base any idea that she felt attracted to you. It wasn’t like you were freaking out about trying to impress Jennie in any bed with your utter lack of experience.

As the thought ran through your head, Jennie seemed to think the opposite. A step closer, she was reaching up to take a lock of your hair and twirl it around her finger. Those eyes, so dark, looked ever deeper as they lifted to catch yours. A cruel grin on her lips. If you didn’t know better, you’d say it was only because she was drunk that she was approaching you like this. Invading your space like this. Making your body vibrate like a magnet as she neared.

“You know,” she started, voice deeper. Sultry. You felt the urge to take a step back but a much stronger yearning kept you rooted to the spot. “We are in a bedroom.”

There was little more you could do than just nod.

“It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she continued. Shapes shifted in the red of the wall, slow, tantalizing. “You can say no to me right here and now, and we’ll pretend that I never said anything at all.”

Bone dry, you couldn’t speak to any sway in the decision. Jennie took that to mean you didn’t quite understand, and in keeping with the theme of complete clarity, she whispered.

“Do you want me to teach you how to fuck?” The hand playing with your hair now rested on your shoulder, fingertips warm and gently kneading the tense muscle there. “Do you want me to show you how to please a woman?”

All you could do was nod.

Something told you in the moment Jennie pressed her lips to yours and sought to make them pliant that she had been looking for this opportunity. It was almost too perfect.

It was a spell, how she kissed you. Made all those meddlesome thoughts and emotions that liked to control the heart disappear. Made your body respond before you could comprehend the way the two of you fitted together. Made time flit by from the second she started to peel your clothes off and you for her. Maybe those montages you saw in films held some measure of truth in the fluidity they portrayed sex. Abruptly kissing and then naked and then—

“On your bed,” Jennie instructed. A tone of voice unlike you ever heard, and had you backing toward the furniture obediently as she kicked off the last article of clothing around her ankle.

Aware that you were nude and about to part from her, that she would be able to see you in all your glory, you suddenly stilled. Nervous. What would she think? You couldn’t compare to some of her past partners, the men and women she’s bedded that she could have easily pulled from fashion magazines. That apprehension started its beady crawl back into your throat.

A gentle touch. Fingers on your chin. Bringing your eyes from the floor to hers again. Still just as excited about the prospect but with a blanket of care.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, kissing you again. Reading your thoughts. “I am attracted to you, mind and body.” Tongue lapping at your lip. “You have the power to stop whenever you like.”

As though the words thawed your insides with security of your bond, you broke the kiss and found yourself sinking down to the bed. Looking at Jennie expectantly. It must have been a sight she liked. A smile spread across her lush lips and she placed a hand on your shoulder to ease you back on the sheets. A pause taken to marvel at your form, one that gifted you the ability to do the same of her.

“Have you ever touched yourself?” Jennie inquired, face glowing in the light. It saved her the satisfaction of seeing you blush profusely at the question. Nodding, a hand smoothed up your thigh. “Then I want to begin with something you haven’t had the chance to practice yet.” Slinking upon the bed to level herself with your waist, “It’s better to show than to tell.”

Teeth tickled at your navel. You whimpered, silently chastising yourself for breaking so easily, and could hear Jennie chuckle darkly. Kissing, nipping, licking, she teased at your waist, biting tenderly at your hipbones, licking the invisible line of your waistband. The sensations unraveled low in your stomach, better than anything you could have ever made yourself feel, and she wasn’t even where your fingers had wantonly explored. Chestnut hair brushed over your skin, heightening the act, and when you started to writhe mindlessly did she take that as a sign you were ready. A hand splayed over your hip, holding you still, and then she was drawing lower.

You strangled out a gasp as you felt Jennie lave from your entrance to your bud. It was a good thing she had prepared with the hand on your body for you immediately tried to buck. The idea alone would have been enough, but for Jennie to demonstrate so willingly had you like putty. How did you taste? Did she like it? Or did she just enjoy how you responded? The questions started tallying up in your brain, losing track when she did the same ministration again, and then again, and fuck, again. The sounds of her mouth and you were obscene, the flush on your face a mixture of embarrassment and lust. And she was only picking up momentum. The dips into your folds came faster. Held more pressure. And she paused at your clit, sucking it between her lips, groaning from the den of her chest when a cracked cry fell from your mouth.

You wanted it to last forever. But it felt like no time at all before you were fisting up the sheets and openly moaning, attempting in vain to ride her tongue as she held you below and ate you like she was addicted. Blame laid on the virgin nerves driving you beyond sense. There was no moment wasted to ask what you liked, what she could do better, what more you needed. Jennie was bringing you close to an imperceptible edge composed all of her own and you wanted to fall already. Tossing your head to the side, chest heaving with a great inhale, legs shaking… it was approaching. Oh, you wanted it…

“Jennie!” You gasped out when she departed before finishing the climb. As if you had any jurisdiction to criticize her.

All she did was smirk that damned way that she did.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, baby,” and the way Jennie said the pet name so casually made you want to keen. “That wasn’t even the main event.”

With surprising strength, Jennie cupped the back of your head and drew you into a kiss. So that’s what you tasted like. An unfamiliar taste but not one unpleasant, and she didn’t seem to mind sharing. Distracted, you complied as she skillfully switched your positions until you broke apart and noted how she was now the one lying on the bed. Jennie was stunning, gentle curves and unobstructed flesh. A shine of the light and you were swallowing a knot to see how wet she had become from the opening act.

Reaching up, Jennie took a spare pillow at the head of the bed and brought it down so that she could fit it under her hips. You watched absently, brain fog too dense to allow any real thoughts to form. The cushion lifted her, and when she spread her legs for you to join her, it exposed more than your dreams dared picture. It was almost comical how your jaw dropped in increments. Hands gripping your hips, you allowed her to usher you closer.

“Put your hands on my knees, baby.” Were you trembling? Doing as instructed, thankful your hands could still, you listened as she continued with, “You can push them apart or up toward me if you need the space.” What was she talking about, so unabashed? You glanced down between your bodies and shuddered. Your cores so close to touching. And to drive home the point, Jennie pulled you tighter.

Stars sparked in your vision as you bumped clumsily together. Despite your copious desire, you could still feel her own hot, wet slick. God, you wanted to be closer, and following her advice, you gently urged her knees further into a fold toward her chest so you could press in earnest against her. Jennie hummed, eyes fluttering shut, hands never leaving your hips as she locked you there.

Eyes still closed and voice breathier, “Start grinding, baby.” You did, sighing out. “Yes, just like that… mmm, that’s good. You’re doing so good.”

The viscosity of the lava lamp trailed over your room, over your bodies as you worked up a rhythm. Abiding Jennie’s every instruction. You tried not to think about the awkward beginning, the uncertainty of what you were doing, what it could mean now that you had both passed a threshold of no returning.

It was easy when Jennie started to lose the ability to speak. Words ceased, coming in intervals of “Faster!” or “Like that, like that…” until they weren’t being spoken at all. At least not coherently. Tuned to her frequency, you began relying on the moans as they came to know what to do, and often found it correlated with what you wanted yourself. Jennie working you as close as she did with her tongue made holding on difficult, because there was no way you were about to finish before she would. Perhaps that had been her goal from the start, but grounding your hips into hers, the only thing that would bring you to that end would be hearing Jennie cry out her own climax.

When the jerk of Jennie’s hips to meet yours started to become unhinged, and the hands bruising your hips slackened with one coming to rest on your lower abdomen, digging nails, did you notice she was about to come. It made your chest tight, panting, beads of sweat running down the rivulet of your spine, and you just had to hold out. Head thrown back, you focused on keeping the pace as Jennie scratched at you, volume rising, whines sharpening and cracking. Then, your name, like she was calling for you. A quake ran the length of your body, and you cried out, unable to stop yourself if you had all the strength in the world.

Dark hair splayed over the sheets, hands scrambling on you for anything to anchor her in reality, Jennie came with nearly enough force to push you off her. You tried to fight it, keep her legs open just long enough to keep rutting until you were both finished. Ribs expanding to accommodate the inhales, Jennie tapered off into deep breaths. When she could manage, she opened unfocused, bleary eyes and smiled wide up at you. You were barely able to hold yourself up, setting her legs down slowly on the bed to stretch after holding the position for so long. Losing contact, you immediately missed the feeling of her against your centre, but couldn’t go another round if you wanted to. The second your high was finished, you were far too sensitive for anything else, and positively a mess.

Jennie didn’t care about the mess. A hiss escaped your teeth at the agony of having her grab your bruised hip again to pull you down onto her body. Sticky, hot, you laid together to catch your breath.

“I don’t think you’re going to have any problems,” Jennie finally said, laughing sheepishly at the end. Now that you were done, Jennie had lost the confident façade and became the mild kitten you had always known her as. It made your head spin.

You couldn’t voice it, even as she hugged you close and played with your hair to drift into sleep, but you weren’t sure you ever wanted to hear another person moan your name that wasn’t Jennie.

[nukyster-blog]

Changing Course Chapter 26) Burdens women bare

.-.-.

It wasn’t their holy day, it wasn’t Sunday. The bells gave that away. As the Giant dragged Ivar across the cobblestoned centre towards the chapel, the bells rang in a peal, echoing their melodic sounds through the castle de Haar. 

The chapel was already packed with the inhabitants, but instead of calm gracing through their most holy chamber, the room was buzzing with excited chatter. Children ran between rows, fighting each other for the closest spots near the altar underneath the high arched windows. 

Was it a special holy day? A possible celebration of spring? 

Ivar sat up and stared across the pompous room. Honestly he didn’t care what reason lay behind his smatter of freedom. It felt thrilling yet intimidating to be out of the shed and placed back into society. To be sitting on a wooden bench instead of laying in filth and hay. Ivar looked around so quickly his eyes nearly fell out; stained glass, the heavy iron bound door, elegant candle holders. The smell of wax and incense. The sounds of foreign chatter, contained coughs, giggling of children, and footsteps echoing between the old stonewalls; it was an overstimulation of Ivar’s dulled brain. The months of utter cold and nothingness, rocking back and forth to keep himself warm in either twilight or dark, had taken its toll on him. 

He did not realise he was physically cramping up and holding his breath until Piglet’s warm and calloused hand formed itself around his. 

Ivar glanced at her hand, with nails bitten and ripped, raw and so small compared to his. She gave him a gentle squeeze and an even softer smile as his eyes trailed back up to read her face. 

“Breath, hamar”, she told him as if she were talking to a small, dumb child. And in that moment Ivar felt like a small dumb child, inhaling a sharp deep breath as his body seemed to have forgotten to do that automatically. 

The bells kept ringing, those insufferable Christian words kept swirling around him like flies. It all came crashing in like  waves in the ocean; the voices, sounds, smells and bile rose in his throat. For a moment, Ivar feared he’d be drowning on land, like a fish. 

To lessen the external rollercoaster he closed his eyes, taking in deep breaths again, blowing out slowly. In order to keep the suffocating thoughts from spiraling out of control he chose a steady anchor to hold onto and held onto the hand of Piglet. Intertwining fingers, he knew his clutch around hers was hurting her. But he could not bring himself to ease his grip, not yet. 

For a solid moment alone, Ivar missed being locked inside the shed. The unsettling boredom, the shackles and chains. The smell of animal dung, mildew, and wet furs. That place was constant, dull, dark and safe. In there he’d been the Bloody Bear of Kattegat, for months, rocking back and forth to keep his mind from breaking and his body from freezing. 

It was impossible to shake that mental state off in a matter of minutes. So Ivar quietly rocked back and forth on the wooden bench, eyes firmly shut close and focussing on merely keeping his body from suffocating. 

“Hamar, breath”, Piglet murmured in his ear, her words tickling his skin, “you’re Viking, think of your Gods.” 

Ivar pressed his forehead against the backside of the wooden bench in front of him and while keeping his eyes shut whispered...“hail All-Father, wise warrior, one-eyed wanderer, come sit at my fire. Tell me your wisdom stories, the scenes your missing eyes sees. You who chooses the slain, look on my deed and when my time comes, to run the sky with you. Let me end be worthy of song. In the meantime, let me feel excitement and poetry and fury and joy. Let me understand sacrifice. Think long, remember well and journey far. Odin, witness this”.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the room  and Ivar reopened his eyes wide, shocked by the sudden lack of sounds and voices. Before he had time to recover from the first surprise he was struck with the next: the presence of the fair-maiden. The young woman stood in the doorway of the heavy iron door, arms hooked with a wealthy man Ivar hadn’t seen before. 

She was draped from head to toe in deep jewel tones, made of velvet, silk and satin. Although the poor thing did her absolute best to keep her face blank from emotion, she had the gait of someone who was about to walk into her own funeral. Every step seemed to take her forever as if she wished to master time and take an eternity to end her walk up to the altar. 

As the fair-maiden started her slow pace, everyone around Ivar rose up to their feet, even Piglet sheepishly participated, urgently tugging on Ivar’s hand to at least try to get up too. 

Ivar abruptly let go of her hand, grabbed the edge of the wooden bench in front of him and pulled himself upon his feet. Unsteady, he leaned heavily on the bench, his legs trembling and spasming underneath him. 

But by the Gods, he was going to keep on standing. And it was not because he obeyed the Christians. He desperately wanted to see the fair-maiden as long as he could and remaining seated meant all he could see were backs, elbows, and arses. 

The fair-maiden walked right by him and instinctively Ivar moved towards her, only to be spitefully elbowed between the ribs by Piglet, who did not condone any foolishness from his behalf. 

For a second time that day Ivar found himself breathless. Barely able to keep himself up on his feet, he gazed at Piglet in utter anger. Unfazed, she glared back at him, motioning her elbow slightly up to warn him she’d do it again if he dare do  anything so drastic and stupid. 

Oh, at times Ivar wished he had enough nails to nail the Giant and Piglet both. 

“Insufferable cunt”, Ivar breathed in her ear as he was forced to stare at the back of the fair-maiden. 

“Thick-head”, she responded with a whisper as all heads turned to the next entry. 

It was Ludolf, wearing a masculine version of the fair-maiden’s look; a three-quarter length tunic with wide sleeves and an open, round neckline. His lop-sided lip was formed into a satisfied smile as he bathed in all the attention. 

Piglet had her elbow already pinned into Ivar’s chest as a warning, while the young man strode along them. A good thing though, because the scars on Ivar’s back seemed to be set on fire the moment he lay eyes on the spineless creature that caused them. Whatever truth may lay in Piglet’s confession about his Djinn, Ivar could feel something inside of him rob his consciousness from his heart, stopping the natural process of guilt and shame and stirring on mere hatred alone. Whatever lurked inside of him, there was a part that fueled on wrath and rage alone. A hunger for destruction of flesh, bones and civilisation. 

“This is not the time”, Piglet expressed breathlessly, summoning back some awareness of their poor status and certain death, if Ivar dared to lunge forward. 

Calculated, Ivar realised he would not be able to make it to Ludolf, he wouldn’t even be able to yap at his ankles as he’d done last time. And Ivar did not need to remind himself what had happened to him after he’d marked the young ruler with his teeth. 

Lowering his head in defeat, Ivar listened as their priest opened his holy book and started speaking. 

A wedding ceremony… Ivar thoughtlessly shook his head, they’d all been prepped up to witness a marriage of convenience. A faithless arrangement between the father of the bride and the father of the groom. Devotion not by heart, but by responsibility and honour. The fair-maiden would be burdened to endure Ludolf until death, barring his children and turning the other cheek. Ivar didn’t understand why he dwelled on that prospect of her future. He’d known for a long time about the arranged marriage. 

But he never thought he’d be witness to her ceremonial doom. Although her path was paved with golden stones, they both shared the same form of dread; being absolutely powerless. Voiceless, nothing more than a piece of meat, auctioned off to the highest bidder. 

After a short welcome, all spectators were informed to sit down. The biblical nonsense took on forever, but the lack of voices and chattering was more than welcome and gave Ivar the time to unwind. 

He watched the fair-maiden from between shoulders and heads. Her emotions were not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her pain was so evident in the crease of her brow and the down-curve of her full lips. Her petite frame seemed so easy to break, shatter at the altar as the burden upon her shoulders became too much for her to carry. 

She was so different from Ivar, so fragile and innocent, although that part of her would soon be demolished. Ivar figured it would die during her wedding night, as the young ruler would claim what was rightfully his. 

“She won’t last long”, Piglet whispered bitterly. Yet her venom was not directed toward the fair-maiden, but to the despicable creature that was about to marry her. 

Ivar failed to respond and watched the exchange of rings. Her hands trembled as Ludolf slid the piece of gold around her finger. A wealthy form of chains and shackles, a symbol of the power he was about to hold over her. His wife. 

The audience was asked to stand, and Ivar did so as quickly as he could. Just in time to see them kiss. It was quick and lacked any sign of affection, but it was enough to simmer up Ivar’s anger. 

The tension that came with that anger was enough to send his right leg into a spasm, causing him to stumble and collapse onto the marble floor. Piglet and the rest of the people in his row glared at his clumsiness, while the rest of the room broke down in celebration. 

Clapping, excited chatter and cheers filled the air and everyone was drawn to the newlyweds. 

Now that he was down, Ivar figured he had nothing to lose. And so he crawled past filthy feet and dirty boots to peek around the rows of benches and stare at the fair-maiden from a different angle. 

The pair were still standing at the altar, holding their intertwined hands into the air to receive all of the applause and best wishes. The fair-maiden had managed to turn her lips into a smile and cautiously glanced at the rows of people. Strangers.

The pair started walking, Ludolf waved at his lessers and the fair-maiden followed him aside, her arm hooked with his and her gaze gracefully lowered to the tips of her toes. That was her future from this day, to obey and keep herself as small as possible. For in this world there was no place for women that spoke their minds with sharp tongues. 

As by faith, the fair-maiden suddenly glanced up and noticed Ivar down on the floor. Keeping himself up on his elbows staring could be their only form of communication. 

It was so evident that she needed something, anything, to hold onto during the darkest hour of her life. A sign that her future might not be painted so grim, the pain so legible in her begging, downturned gaze. 

Ivar drew a little cross on his forehead with his index finger and gave her a gentle nod to convince her to keep her faith. He could feel his own lips burn as the fair-maiden wetted hers and managed to lift them into a halfhearted smile. 

The pair passed Ivar, heading towards what would probably be the biggest celebratory meal of the year. Ivar watched the back of their heads, touching his upper lip while all exited, chattering turned into a buzz. 

Piglet stomped her cold toes harshly into his ribs and gave him a shove to start moving. Oh, if it wasn’t for the major amount of witnesses she’d be having a fit right now. But aside from a few more kicks she could not afford to lash out and quietly walked behind Ivar, who was boiling like a pot of tar, ready to overflow. 

The Giant split them apart. Ivar made a mental note to have the brute crawl through thorn bushes set on fire before slaughtering the man, as he was being dragged over the cobblestones. If it weren’t  for the potato bags, Ivar’s knees would be bruised and scraped back open.

A second miracle appeared today. Instead of being locked back up into the shed, Ivar was being dragged into the Castle’s kitchen. He highly doubted it was due to the Giant’s change of heart, no, the reason for this smatter of freedom was pragmatic; there was a feast coming up and the kitchen needed a few more hands.

So, Ivar was back at peeling and cutting onions, all while crying his eyes out. But it beat the absolute loneliness and boredom of the shed. It was a nice change of atmosphere; the chaos, heat, and mouth watering smells of brisket, soups, and baked potatoes. Little Cunt ruled her kitchen like a warrior, beating her cane against every head thick enough to make a mistake. The workers literally risked their heads and a possible concussion around the pots, pans, knives, and silver pitchers. 

Big Cunt was in charge of the service, every tray would be checked with her prying eyes. Every slip of greasy gravy, wine stained napkin or overcooked slice of meat would be punished with a foul snarl and a slap in the face. Tonight was the feast of the rich, there was no room for mistakes.

Ivar watched the chaotic beehive led by two queens patiently while squinting his eyes. The scent was poison to his eyes, blurring his vision and turning him into a snottering, sniveling mess. 

Piglet’s humble form emerged from the crowd, painfully rubbing the side of her head, an indication that Little Cunt wasn’t pleased with her efforts. Appearing a little lost, her eyes regained a humored glint when she noticed Ivar’s struggle with the mass of torturous vegetables. 

“Welcome back”, Piglet sniggered, collecting the cut onions in a large bowl. 

Ivar refused to respond, wiping vigorously through his eyes in an attempt to rid himself of tears. Once he blinked the blurriness from his vision, Piglet had vanished back into the mass, leaving him to his simpleton duty. 

.-.-.

It must have been well over midnight when the kitchen staff turned from serving to cleaning. Piglet and Ivar were in charge of the counters, which wasn’t in Ivar’s best interest; standing required him to use the support of both his arms. And since he could not magically grow a third arm, he had to balance his support with one arm and two very unwilling legs, all while productively scrubbing away grease. 

The task already took him down two times; the first time resulted in him banging his chin down onto the counter. The second time, he landed hard on his arse as Little Cunt grew tired of his clumsiness and unproductivity. The old hag wacked her cane mercilessly against Ivar’s chinbones.

He had to give it to her, for such an ancient bitch with a crooked back and arthritis, she had the fury and force of a proper shieldmaiden. 

This, however, did not change the fact that Little Cunt was now the third person on Ivar’s hitlist. He’d butcher her like a pig, using her own set of cherished kitchen knives. And then cook her up in the largest cauldron to serve her to the fat rulers of de Haar.

Ivar envisioned how the flesh would slowly loosen from her brittle bones, oh he’d use her own cane to stir her body around until she’d turned into a decent stew. Maybe ask Piglet to piss in it, too. 

As if the slave could read his mind, Piglet dropped the entire content of one of the serving trays. A fortune of silverware crashed down onto the floor, while red wine splattered the cabinets. 

It looked like a murder scene, and Little Cunt was about to commit the crime. The old woman let out a bloody warcry and chased after Piglet with her cane waving around like a flag. 

It was entertaining to watch Piglet wear the Little Cunt down, because the older woman was no match for the speed and swiftness of Piglet. Little Cunt eventually settled with beating the life out of the closest person in reach before letting out a shaky breath and faint from lack of air and probably old age. 

Big Cunt was on a rescue mission to save the dignity of her commander and unleashed her fury onto Piglet. It was a one-sided engagement of scratching, punching, and hair pulling which ended with Piglet on her knees, her face pressed into the mess she’d made. 

Of course there was laughter and ridicule, but it quickly evolved into concern about the well-being of Little Cunt. 

As most of the kitchen staff circled around their hated leader, while Big Cunt cried bloody murder, Ivar crawled out to Piglet to help her pick up the piece of silverware.

Three red gashes marked her face, a gift from Big Cunt, but Piglet’s face was lit with stubborn satisfaction.  

“You might have slayed the old dragon Piglet”, Ivar muttered as two members of the kitchen staff hoisted Little Cunt up onto her feet to drag her away. The old woman spat out some feisty mumbling, but lost the strength to bash heads in. 

“Did you plan this?”, Ivar continued.

Piglet glanced at him through her lashes and carefully touched one of the three fingernail scratches on her cheek. 

“Ivar the bloody, Ivar de Martelaar, Ivar the dog with muzzle,” she summoned up mockingly, “you have enough nicknames, no room for another; Ivar-bashed-up-knees”. Piglet pointed at the red wine stained floor and cabinet. “You clean that, I clean counter, you’re useless standing.” 

And so Ivar was given the task to clean up after Piglet until the early hours of morning. But with both his crippled legs intact. 

.-.-.

A/N: Yeah #teampiglet all the way. Ivar’s savage guardian angel. So this chapter was another interesting one to write. I felt the need to highlight the mental damage winter left behind. I just couldn’t let the fact slide that Ivar has been locked up for months, while fighting bitter cold, in twilight or dark, spending endless hours all alone. So yeah, to then be alright and function while being dragged into a overcrowded place...nop, that felt wrong. 

So I guess you could say he had a mild panic attack right before the ceremony. And then to watch the fair-maiden being married off to Ludolf, oh what a monstrosity I am as the writer. 

Also, I did a little bit of research about the wedding ceremony. During this era the wedding dress wasn’t white but blue, so there you go. This time Piglet took one for the team, I’m happy to end with a little humor for a change. I like how she’s able to get what she wants while being the weakest link in the room. Ivar and Piglet, two peas in a pod.

This was it for this week again, hope you’ve enjoyed this chapter and it would be lovely if you’ve let me know what your thoughts are. 

Xoxoxo Nukyster

The tagged ones:@youbloodymadgenius​ @xbellaxcarolinax @saldelys​ @shannygoatgruff@pieces-by-me@apenas-mais-uma-pessoa@readsalot73@lauraan182 @conaionaru@sarahh-jane@peachybonelessIf you’d liked to be tagged, please let me know:)

[hanaasbananas]

100 Ways to say I Love You Chapter 27

Wanna get out of here? (Adrinette)

AO3

“Mhm, how fascinating,” Marinette murmured, smiling genially at the woman in front of her. “You’ll have to show me sometime!”

Marinette was absolutely bored out of her skull.

When she’d been invited to the Gabriel party as Adrien’s plus one, she’d been too excited at the prospect of rubbing shoulders with so many influential people in the fashion industry; to get a chance to see all the newest fashions up close and personal, to pick the brains of some of the best designers in Paris.

What she hadn’t anticipated was how mind numbingly dull some of the company could be.

Having been waylaid on her way back from the drinks table by an overbearing couple who had recognised her as Monsieur Agreste’s apprentice, she’d spent the past half hour trying to disentangle herself from their company in a way that didn’t offend.

Apparently that meant smiling and nodding until the conversation had run its course.

Taking advantage of a brief lull in their exchange, Marinette turned her head to look over the room, searching for Adrien in the crowd, but he was nowhere to be seen. What else could she do? Maybe say she was going to get her drink refilled? But no, they’d probably flag down a waiter carrying wine instead.

Her musings were cut short when an arm slipped around her waist, and she relaxed, letting herself be pulled against Adrien’s side as he dipped his head to kiss her cheek, lingering a beat longer, his warm breath tickling her ear as he murmured:

"Wanna get out of here?"

Marinette shivered, nodding imperceptibly and he grinned, turning a winning smile to the couple who held her hostage. “I’m so sorry guys, but I’m gonna have to steal my girlfriend from you now, is that alright?”

They nodded enthusiastically in response, cooing over the two of them as Adrien guided her away, keeping a firm grip on her waist and speeding up until they were out of sight. “Oh god,” Marinette exclaimed,  lowering her voice when he saw a few heads turning their way. “Was I that obvious?”

“Only to the people who know you,” Adrien snickered, “and anyway, what are boyfriends for, if not to save you from uncomfortable social situations?”

Marinette spun around to face Adrien as soon as they made it out into the empty hotel lobby, pulling him into the nearest alcove before wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. When they finally pulled away, she giggled at the dazed look in his green eyes.

“What was that for?”

“For the gallant rescue, of course. And I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” She looked him up and down appreciatively, taking in the finely tailored suit he wore, the green tie he’d loosened that matched the accents on her dress, and of course, the rakish smile as he raised an eyebrow and ducked his head down to pepper light kisses all along her jaw.

“Is that so?” Adrien murmured, his mouth hot on her skin as he trailed kisses down her throat. “What a coincidence,” he grinned when she gasped quietly, electricity coursing through her veins at his touch. Tugging at the lapels of his suit jacket to bring him closer, she felt her knees weakening  as Adrien obliged her with a smirk, tightening his grip on her waist and holding her flush against him, capturing her lips once more.

“So have I.”