#tip toeing elf

[girlinthebrightbluejeans]

like a baby deer learning how to walk

[julls]

kiss from above!? ꒰ ♡ ꒱

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: noncon, gangbang, elf-reader, orc captors, racism between orcs and elves, captive reader, enslavement, piss drinking, mindbreak, mentioned toe-sucking and rimming, navigating cultural differences

♡ FEM reader

♡ P1: THE PILLORY

The orc bandits sold your fellow elves off like slaves, but the commander ended up saving you for himself.

You’d been out of it throughout the ordeal. Already with the feeling of being numb, dumb, and tingly from the top of your crown down to the tips of your toes, you’d soon been overcome with fever as if taken by sickness—or withdrawal. Kept warm in the lap of your captor, you could barely keep your eyes open and must have passed out again—all to the sound of your troop's despair as they were bid on individually and dragged off by different buyers, all adorned collars and chains.

When you woke up again, whatever had you so enthralled and pliant was gone, leaving you feeling much like those times you’d woken from drinking more than your limit—along with a sore ache spanning your entire body, leaving you bedridden.  

Lying there, on a massive fur pelt in a fire-heated tent with a pair of shackles upon your ankles, you decide against your former poor judgment of making demands—this time, staying still and deadly silent, causing no fuss and voicing no complaint in petrified fear of the heavyweight resting at your back, breathing soundly like a beast in hibernation.

You still don’t understand what happened—still don’t understand what got into you—why did you act that way? It was as if you’d completely lost your mind—hijacked by something unholy and depraved—something vile. You’d been possessed—you must have been! To be bred by those monsters, swallow their semen—drink their piss. Thinking about it, the shock of it all cancels out the disgust. How could you have done all that? Sure, you were forced, but you could swear… somewhere halfway through, you started to enjoy it.

“Why so quiet, elf-pet?”

He must have felt the shift in your breathing. Beasts of war sleep with one eye open, after all. Still, you don’t answer—you don’t move a muscle. Stiff and lifeless, you remain, even as his hand—the one dwarfing your hip—slides south.

"Afraid to wake me?"

You just swallow thickly with a whimper as his thick orc finger, weathered by labor and battle, pets your naked sex, rubbing your clit before splitting the lips and playing with the poorly treated hole beneath it.

“Where’d all that fight go, hm?” he rumbles at your stillness, amused by it as he prods your entrance and pulls your bottom against his bulge. “Don’t tell me I fucked it all gone…” 

All you do is quake and tremor, even as his digit breaks through and starts prepping you—slipping in and out slowly, drawing slick as if your cunt was already trained to do so.

His pleased hum rumbles at your back, wreaking your bones—making you feel fickle like a sprout.

“Elves make such good pets once you tame them,” he states, chuckling. “You love cock and cum so much it makes you dumb—a single taste of it and even the priggish of elves like you turn into filthy little whores hungry for more.” 

You feel him fatten behind you—clenching your thighs as it swells up against your rear. 

His arm, the one beneath your head you’d been resting on like a pillow, coils around your neck and pulls you back snugly against him. 

“Don’t worry, elf-pet—” he grins, teeth by your ear in heated words, “I’ll keep feeding you good and full.”

And that's how it goes. Anytime you sober up, he fucks you silly—well and truly silly—silly in the way it makes you indiscriminately slurp his cum off the ground and suck his toes and lick his ass and squeal with joy as he swarms your womb with piss, “Ah feels so nice and warm inside—I love being master’s piss-bucket! Thank you!”

It’s been that way for months now.

He’s taken to calling you Putty because of how dumb and malleable you’ve become, eager to do anything he says, just to please. It disgusted you in the beginning, but you’ve since learned to accept the weakness of your nature—if only for the sake of survival and your own sanity. 

There’s no point in beating yourself up about it—not in this godforsaken part of the world where everyone seems out to do it for you.

You’d known orcs were soulless creatures, but truly, nothing could have prepared you for their level of depravity. If you could, you’d stay hidden inside the tent and never expose yourself to the horrors outside—already sated with those you have to endure within its thin drapes. But unfortunately, your master enjoys bringing you with him wherever he goes. 

Many orcs do, you’ve come to understand. They like parading their slaves, mostly fae-folk like you, around—all dressed skimpily, all with collars—nymphs and fairies often with their wings clipped and elves with their heads shaved in shame. 

Today, you’re out walking the market—you, with your leash on, and him, with his fist tugging it close behind him. 

He’s looking at weapons and armor for the most part and the odd toy or article for you. He likes keeping you pretty, in jewelry and sheer silks that let everyone admire what he has warming his bed. 

Since becoming his slave, he’s taken you to get plenty of piercings and markings. You can’t read their scripture, but he’s told you what he’s marked on your pretty skin several times. His name, of which you’re not allowed to speak, paired with his title as your direct master, as well as his guild’s seal, stating their ownership of you—all in three intricate patterns down your right arm. So, even if you ever do get home, you’ll never be able to wash him off. Another train of patterns on your left arm shows your status as a slave and your worth if anyone but your master were to damage or kill you accidentally.

For all their cruelty—you’re surprised by their level of organization. Though you don’t agree with it, you can at least admit that what they have is some variation of civilization—as supremacist as it is. But then again, elves are much the same—always thinking themselves better than everything, even other groups of fae.

It’s funny, but in a way, you’re almost convinced this is divine justice—the gods punishing you for your false sense of superiority by forcing you to live your life in suffering as an orc’s slave. 

It’s a trial—your last chance at redemption before death. Fulfill it, and heaven will be waiting for you with open arms. Yes, that must be it. 

The crowd becomes thicker near the end of the market street. It seems there’s an ongoing roadside show that many are keen on watching. You hear the jeers and hollers, the oos and ahs, and coming out empty-handed from the market trip, it seems the commotion is enough to pique your master’s interest enough to make him battle his way through to the front with you in toe just behind him—paying no mind to how members of the crowd paw at you. 

One is even so brazen to spit on your chest. But it comes as no shock—nor does your master’s indifference. In orc culture, all orcs are masters and can do what they want to any and all slaves with respect to their direct master. In fact, it’s not uncommon to see masters chain their slaves up like mutts in the street—free for all to have a go.

Actually, you can bet that’s what gathered this flock.

And sure enough, you’re spot on. 

Three fellow fae are on display up on the stage, naked and drenched in cum and sweat and other fluids—all made fully dumb by it.

You’ve theorized why over the months of being subjected to it and could only come up with one sound theory to explain it. Orc fluids must contain strong aphrodisiac properties, maybe even other substances that make their victims so agreeable—a type of natural incentive, possibly to make breeding more plausible and easy for a race so ugly. 

Yes, that must be it. It’s the only thing that could make any sense of the heart-eyes and love-cries you witness on all your otherwise dignified fellow fae.

One of them is folded between two orcs, desperately sucking on one of their tongues with her eyes closed in bliss, taking both their cocks in both her holes. It’s hard feeling sorry for her when she looks so happy, but you know the situation yourself—it’s like your mind’s been replaced by a fluffy cloud, and all you can think to wish for is to be taken higher.

Another girl is on her knees, ass up and head down—with a heavy foot placed on top of her cheek, squishing her pretty face against the wooden stage—tongue out and eyes crossed as he fucks her sloppy cunt with his whole entire fist. The poor girl is so mindbroken she just giggles with a smile, thighs shivering in delight as she squirts out a puddle beneath her.

The last girl is placed on her back on a beam—ankles suspended in the air, tied tightly to two poles—arms tied together under the bench. She’s also got two of them having their fun with her—one in each end in a spitroast. 

You’ve been in her position once—shared like a piece of meat—stuffed overfull with no freedom to spare. You wonder if she’d spoken out of place, too.

The orc by her head tugs his cock in his fist, standing over her head, letting her lick the sweat off his balls before dropping his length on her chest, bunching her tits and fucking through them with a groan, letting his balls swing and drag over her pretty face. But it’s not long before he steps back and puts his shaft to her lips, holding her throat in a light grip as she sweetly teases his dickhole with the tip of her tongue. When he gives her a firmer squeeze, she obediently widens her mouth, gaping to receive the head.

The girl holds it in her mouth like you do for your master, trying your best to suck but only ever managing to drool around it like a roasted pig with an apple between its teeth. Oh, but then something impossible happens.

You swear it’s like watching a circus act—you look on in horror and awe—unable to grasp it as more of the orc’s meaty member disappears down the girl’s swallow—one girthy inch at a time. You watch her throat swell, eyes wide in disbelief as her pipe blows out to accommodate the size, letting it sink inside all the way through down to the hilt.

The audience whistle and shout at her performance—all impressed as the two orcs fuck her on time with each other—out, then all the way in. And honestly, you’re one of them. Blinking at the display, you can barely trust your eyes—the two cocks must be kissing each other's tips inside her.

“What good whores,” your master mumbles at your side, swinging you against his chest with a grip on your jaw, making you face the scene. 

“You see that, Putty,” he gruffs and points at the one you’d already been watching, wide-eyed and drop-jawed. “One day soon, you’re gonna be just like that.”

You dont know why, but watching the filthy scene makes your gut gurgle. How can you be hungry at a time like this?

“A perfect throat-sleeve for me. So deep, I can finally touch your guts from both ends and fill your belly just how you like.”

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Enji, AFO ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Toji, Kenjaku ♡ HxH – Uvogin

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[dark-and-kawaii]

Candy Cane Kisses

Summary: You had one special request for Santa this year- a creamy, fat creampie xoxo~ ❄︎ ♡

The following stroke, just as brutal as the first, followed after a cruel ten second pause, “Oh, baby, ya like that, don't ya?" he growls, his voice deep as he thrust into your tight little cunt under the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree.

Your cute whines only encouraged him further, his fingers tangling in your hair as he drives the tip of his cock right up against that squishy sweet spot deep within you, the one that makes your thighs quiver and your belly tighten. The scent of pine and sex wafts thick in the air, mingling with the warm aroma of sugar cookies, hot cocoa and freshly roasted chestnuts.

It's almost as intoxicating as the way Gojo’s muscular body is flexing over yours, the sound of his breath hitching in his throat as he continues to pound the absolute fuck out of you, his large, veiny hand wrapping around your jaw, tilting your head back, “gonna fill ya up so nicely, babygirl. Make sure my pretty elf has a belly full of me.”

The feeling of being so utterly possessed by him, the sparkly red ribbon binding your wrists above your head, the sight of him gazing down at you like you're the only thing he's ever wanted for Christmas... It's all driving you closer and closer to the edge, making your heart thud faster and your breath grow shallower.

Each thrust made your toes curl and your back arch, “Ngh~ S-Satoru~!” you gasped… to which made him give you the sweetest and most tender smile, it was the best gift he could have asked for- hearing you cry his name as his cock stretched your pretty pussy out so deliciously.

You saw how his hand reached for one of the candy canes that hung from the tree, his teeth ripping the wrapper open before holding it above your face, “Stick out your tongue, pretty baby...”

Gojo watched as your mouth hung open like the good good girl you were, the sweet, sticky flavor coating your tongue as he pressed the thick end of the candy in between your lips, letting you suckle on it for a moment. Your cheeks grew rosy, your eyes hazy, your moans muffled as you tried your best to lap at the sweet treat.

“That’s my good little elf, keep sucking,” his voice rumbled, his icy blue eyes trained on the way your lips moved, your tongue licking along the striped cane as if it were a cock, “You look so mmn’pretty like this, doll, so fuckin' good.”

His hips snapped, pushing his cock right up against your cervix, his hands moving beneath you to grip at your ass, tilting your hips upwards, letting him sink even deeper into you. His eyes closed for a moment, his head tipping back, his snowy hair falling back, exposing his handsome jaw and the pretty veins that ran along his neck.

All you wanted for Christmas was a creampie from Gojo Satoru, but you had no idea just how much of it you were about to get.

As the ornaments clinked and the snow fell softly outside the window, you came with a whimpering moan, your inner walls fluttering and squeezing around him, milking his thick cock of every last drop of cum. He was more than happy to give you everything you wished for Christmas, his hot seed spilling inside of you, his hips twitching as he continued to rut into you, his nails biting gently at your skin, his hands gripping onto your ass.

It took a few minutes for him to finally finish, but when he did, he let out a sigh, his chest rising and falling as he slowly pulled out of you. You could feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making a pretty white mess beneath you.

The candy cane had fallen out of your mouth, leaving behind a trail of sticky saliva on your cheek. He smiled, brushing a thumb across your bottom lip, “Let’s see if ya taste as good as ya look,” he murmurs, leaning forward and capturing your mouth in a sweet kiss.

The warmth and tenderness of his lips against yours made your heart swell with joy. He tasted of peppermint and chocolate. And now, he had made this holiday complete, giving you the perfect gift and making you the happiest little elf ever.

[eiightysixbaby]

eddie in a reindeer costume. that’s it, that’s the post. oh and he’s just like, chronically horny for you.

“Oh, look at you!”

The figure that steps out of the dressing room has your eyes lighting up, your mouth twitching as you hold your laughter off. The person on the other end of your delight is… not so delighted.

“I cannot believe this.” Eddie stands with his hands on his hips, looking down at the holiday monstrosity that is his costume.

He’d lost a bet with Steve, and they’d decided that the loser had to be the final piece to Nancy’s holiday charity event being held at Starcourt Mall.

She already had a Santa, thanks to Chief Hopper. She was going as Mrs. Claus, while you, Robin, and Chrissy had pitched in to be elves. Jonathan got off the hook easy as the designated photographer.

The only thing missing… was Rudolph.

You bring your fist to your mouth, the knuckle of your index finger between your teeth to prevent yourself from erupting into a laughing fit.

A pair of opaque brown tights clings to Eddie’s legs, a matching brown tunic of sorts on his top half. There’s a fluffy patch of white fabric at the belly, and a thick red belt around his middle. A red collar adorned with gold bells rests around his neck, and to top it all off, he has a pair of antlers on his head and a red foam ball on his nose.

The only thing that looks remotely Eddie, are the black combat boots they allowed him to wear on his feet.

“Come on, you look adorable!” you say, pinching at the meat of his bicep.

He groans, shaking his head. “I am not going out there like this. This is humiliating!” he grits, his voice coming out somewhat nasally thanks to his fake nose.

“It is not!” you insist, though your giggling gives you away.

“You’re laughing! You can’t even look at me with a straight face!” he pouts, taking in the elf costume you’re wearing.

“Okay, you look hot as fuck in your costume. Like damn, sweetheart,” he says, eyeing you up and down. You flush at his wandering eyes, giddy with his praise — even if he looks ridiculous while giving it.

“The red and green’s really doing it for you? And the hat with the built in elf ears?” you tease, knowing he just likes the way the outfit hugs you in all the right places.

“Babe, like, it’s not even fair how good you look. If I had known Wheeler was gonna put me in a pair of tights, I would’ve literally killed Harrington if it was my only way to win that bet.”

You cradle his cheek in your palm, letting your thumb rub over his skin. “Baby, it’s for the kids, okay? It’s just a few hours.”

“My entire evening is not just a few hours. These tights are gonna cut off all circulation to my fuckin’ dick by the time we’re done here,” he complains.

You shove him playfully, the bells on your outfit jangling with your movement. But he’s not done with the theatrics.

“Oh god,” he says after a pause. “I’m gonna be out of commission. I’m gonna have no dick, they’ll have to amputate.”

“Eddie,” you roll your eyes. “You are so dramatic. The tights are not gonna kill your dick.”

“How do you know that?” he asks, pulling you into him. His big arms wrap around your back, hands holding your ass loosely. “What if wearing this costume means I can never fuck you again? I think I’ll have to tell Wheeler I can’t do it—”

“Eddie!” you say again, scolding him lightly. “You are going out there, whether you like it or not.” You stand on your tip toes, pressing a kiss to his frowning mouth.

“Whyyyyy?”

“Because, it’s for the kids. Like I said. We have to do this.”

He seems entirely unconvinced as he gazes down at you, those big doe eyes of his heavy-lidded as he stares at your red lips.

“What’re you thinking about, Munson?” you ask, recognizing the growing playfulness in his eyes.

“Think we have time for a quickie?”

You press your palms to his chest, shoving him off of you with a laugh.

“I am not fucking you while you’re wearing antlers. Or that big ass red nose.”

“Okay, rude!”

He doesn’t have time to protest any further, because the rest of the group has come to find you. You hear a muffled chuckle from behind you, and you spin around in your green elf boots to face the culprit.

“Aw, well aren’t you just the beacon of holiday spirit!” Steve says, grinning like the devil at your boyfriend.

“I’m actually going to murder you. In cold blood,” Eddie retorts, scowling at the only person not in costume, save for Jonathan. “This isn’t even fair. I have to wear this and Steve just gets off the hook?”

“You lost the bet, Eddie,” Robin chimes in. “A deal’s a deal.”

“Come on, Rudy,” Jonathan pipes up. “We’ve got some Christmas cheer to spread, so get your best smile on.”

“I hate all of you,” Eddie deadpans.

“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy says, motioning all of you in the direction of your photo-op setup. “You’ll get over it.”

You link your arm with his, squeezing. You stop him from walking ahead, tiptoeing to get your mouth level with his ear.

“As soon as this is over, you can have me however you like,” you whisper. “But you better be the holliest, jolliest one out there tonight, or no deal,” you add, before pulling away in a flash and skipping ahead to catch up with Chrissy.

“Oh god, you can’t be putting that in my head right now!” he groans from behind you.

You hear his collar jingling as he starts to move.

“Wait up!”

[angelfic]

— I MISS YOU, I’M SORRY.

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: you haven’t seen theo since he supposedly left you to join the other side. now that he’s back and has revealed his true intentions to you, you’re finding it hard to be forgiving.

warnings: swearing, kissing, tiniest bit of angst, very unedited. not much else other than a whole load of waffle… my bad

author’s note: this is a sort of fix-it fic… kinda. yes I am very much stealing the essence (you could say) from marauders fics because I prefer writing those and yes it’s basically this drabble recycled and yes grimmauld place is still the order headquarters well into the war just don’t question my timeline and you’ll be fine ok ty enjoy xoxo

12 Grimmauld place feels unsettling at the best of times, what with the portrait of Walburga Black hurling insults at you every time her curtain slips open and the row of shrunken house-elf heads mounted on the wall. The Order of the Phoenix holding hushed up meetings in the dining room while you and your friends are forced to stay upstairs isn’t anything new or surprising, but the last few days feel different.

Instead of Mrs Weasley telling members of the Order to whisper when you, her kids and Harry and Hermione are in the room, she flaps about ordering them to stop talking altogether. At first you think you’re imagining it when her eyes flick over to you every time, until you bring it up to Ginny and Hermione.

“You’re not imagining it,” Hermione mutters as she shuts the door of the bedroom and casts a quick Muffliato charm before settling cross legged on the bed opposite you and Ginny. “I overheard Mrs Weasley and Tonks in the kitchen this morning, talking about how the Order is arranging transport for some Death Eater spies to come back here.”

You gasp, pretending to be scandalised. “You mean you were evesdropping. That’s not very prefect-y of you.” Ginny snorts at Hermione’s indignant glare and you can’t help cracking a smile at the way her cheeks have slightly reddened. “Sorry, sorry, you know I’m kidding. But what’s that got to do with her looking at me like I’ve gone through a personal tragedy?”

“Your ex-boyfriend did leave you to go join the Death Eaters,” Ginny points out. Hermione gapes at her, but Ginny merely throws her hands up in exasperation. “Well, he did! No point beating around the bush!”

A lump rises in your throat at the mention of Theodore. Truth be told, you’ve tried not to think about what happened since the last time you spoke about him. ‘Spoke’ being a strong word since it was mostly crying and sniffling and blowing your nose into tissue after tissue in Ginny’s room at the Burrow. Mrs Weasley had made your favourite dinner that night and brought you up a hot chocolate to make you feel better. And it really had- so much so that you refused to speak about him since.

You’re more angry than you are sad now, which makes you nod at Ginny’s words. “You’re right. He’s an arsehole, there’s no point in tip-toeing around it for my sake.” Hermione frowns a little, worry clear as day on her face, but you don’t stop talking. “Besides, we’re on opposite sides and this is a war happening. Not some silly, childish break-up. He chose to be a Death Eater and if we have to fight him, so be it.”

Hermione and Ginny stay quiet for a few seconds and watch you breathe heavily. Thankfully, before either of them can speak, Harry and Ron come bursting into the room.

“They’ve only gone and brought Death Eaters into the bloody building!” Ron shakes his head.

Harry snorts at Ron’s dramatics. “Ex-Death Eaters. Apparently. Still a bit dodgy, in fairness.”

“I thought they were spies,” you say, unable to help your curiosity as you stand up. Ginny and Hermione follow you out of the room as you all peak over the bannister to try and get a glimpse of the action downstairs. Annoyingly, there only seem to be a couple of dishevelled looking Order members milling around.

“Maybe Mrs Weasley and Tonks got it mixed up, or maybe they aren’t privy to what’s going on…” Hermione frowns, deep in thought. “I don’t think anyone but Dumbledore knows what’s actually going on.”

Harry makes an irritated sound. “What’s new?”

“Oh, by the way, Mum sent us up to get you lot for dinner,” Ron says absentmindedly as he tries to get a good look over your shoulder at whatever is happening in the hall downstairs. “Mind you, that was before all the Death Eater business so she’ll probably send us right back up.”

The five of you quickly shuffle downstairs to get to the dining room and while your stomach is growling loud enough to forget any thoughts of Order business, Ron and Harry linger in the hall a little in an attempt to get some answers. You don’t doubt Harry will get some, being the Chosen One and all.

You nudge and elbow your way into the dining room where you’re happily surprised to see a messy-haired Tonks yawning over a bowl of soup. She smiles sleepily when she spots the three of you.

“Hi, girls,” she mumbles through a yawn. “Merlin, I’m exhausted. I keep falling asleep in my soup. Good thing it’s mushroom.” She points to her newly platinum blonde hair that matches the contents of her bowl.

“Why’re you so tired?” Hermione asks as she ladles some soup into bowls for you, Ginny and herself. Her voice is quiet as not to attract attention from Mrs Weasley with her questioning. “Is it to do with tonight’s, uh, Order business?”

“Yep.”

Tonks looks as though she’s about to drift off and Ginny seems to jump at the opportunity to gather information.

“So, what are their names?” She gets straight to the point, glaring at you when you choke on your soup a little, not expecting her to be so blunt.

You and Hermione stop eating and wait with bated breath for Tonks to refuse to answer. She merely yawns again, before talking. “You’ll meet them soon enough.”

“Meet them?” you ask, unable to help yourself. “Aren’t they… uh, you know… dangerous?”

“Dumbledore doesn’t seem to think so,” Tonks says, shrugging. You grow a little frustrated at this, since Dumbledore isn’t exactly known for having straightforward plans. While you know his intentions are good, someone he thinks is safe could very well be the opposite. While you ponder this, Tonks’ next words quickly turn your irritation into shock. “The others were understandably quite wary, what with one of them being You-Know-Who’s son and everything, but…”

You feel a ringing in your ear and every word coming from Tonks may as well be directed to her mushroom soup because you aren’t listening anymore. You-Know-Who’s son. You haven’t seen Mattheo since term ended, and even then it was only from a distance. You hadn’t spoken to him since Theo revealed his Dark Mark to you and you’d since avoided his entire friend group like the plague. If Mattheo is in the building, you can only hope and pray that Theodore isn’t with him.

Vaguely aware of someone shaking you by the shoulder, you snap out of your thoughts. “Who else is with Mattheo?” you ask Tonks, your voice sounding rough to your own ears. She blinks through her sleepiness, slightly startled awake by your unwavering eye contact. “Voldemort’s son. Who’s with him? What do they look like?”

You’re so focused on getting an answer from Tonks, and Hermione and Ginny are clearly on the same page as you now since they’re both silent and waiting for a response, that none of you notice Mrs Weasley entering the dining room.

“Tonks, is he blonde or-?”

“Enough!” Mrs Weasley interrupts you hastily, making everyone jump. She sounds panicked, but the look she throws Tonks is stern, like a warning to keep silent. When she turns back to you however, her eyes soften and her voice is gentle, albeit with a hint of annoyance. “I asked Dumbledore not to bring them here while everyone was awake. I didn’t want you all upset again, dear. Look, you can have your dinner upstairs, I’ll bring it up to you!”

You’re grateful for her concern, but it’s a little hard to feel anything other than the pit in your stomach since she’s just confirmed what you were dreading.

Ginny speaks up first, angry on your behalf. “Mum, she deserves to know if that awful git is in the same house as her! I say she ought to go and deck him in the face.”

“Ginny!” Hermione looks at her in exasperation as Mrs Weasley gasps, horrified. “That sort of attitude isn’t going to help anyone.”

“You’re right,” you mumble, getting up from your seat.

Hermione lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank goodness.”

“I should go and deck him in the face.”

Hermione’s sputtering falls to deaf ears as you abruptly leave your seat to go out into the hall, the scraping of chairs behind you indicating that everyone is following closely.

Realistically, you have no plans to actually hit Theodore. In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever successfully landed a punch before in your life. This doesn’t stop you charging into the hallway and elbowing your way through the huddle of Order members to get to the door they seem to be crowded around.

Kingsley Shacklebolt is the last of them to stumble out of your way, clearly too surprised by your sudden presence to continue guarding the door. You raise a shaky hand to the doorknob and hesitate for a second, suddenly nervous. Kingsley takes this moment to snap out of his surprise and redirects his attentions to what you’re about to do next.

“My dear, I’m afraid I can’t allow you to-”

“Kingsley, do you have any idea why I’m standing here?” you say curtly, cutting him off.

He throws a quick glance at Mrs Weasley, almost as if it’s by reflex. Clearly she’s told more people than Dumbledore to keep word of Theodore far from you. “I, uhm, I may have heard a thing or two…”

“Right, so are you going to stop me entering this room, then?” you ask boldly. Your voice catches slightly on the end of your sentence and Kingsley falters a little.

“Well, really I should-“ he begins, eyes darting to your own slightly teary ones. He sighs. “No, I’m not. Just try not to hex the boy.”

He steps out of your way and you finally barge into room, the door swinging open as you stay lingering near the entrance. The room is just as dingy as the rest of the house, lit up by some candles dotted around the room

You first see Professor McGonagall getting up abruptly from her chair where she was previously sat next to a standing Dumbledore. He merely peers at you over his half moon spectacles and raises his eyebrows.

You suddenly feel a little silly, and rude for barging in like that. “Sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I-“

You stop talking when see movement on the other side of the room from the corner of your eye. Just as Tonks had said, Mattheo Riddle, son of Lord Voldemort is standing right there, flanked by Lorenzo Berkshire… and Theodore. Your mouth goes dry.

As soon as you catch his eye, he smiles broadly at you. You don’t return the gesture, taking his appearance in instead. He’s thinner than the last time you saw him. No visible injuries, but he’s definitely seen better days. His dirty blonde hair is overgrown and unruly as it falls into his eyes which, despite brightening up at your presence, are tired.

You keep your expression as impassive as you can, slightly angry with yourself at the twinge of concern you feel. It was all well and good interrupting whatever meeting was happening in here before you came in, but now that you’re here… you have no idea what to do or say.

Theo’s smile falters when you continue to stand there with clenched fists and a stony face and you’re tempted to just run out of the room when Dumbledore clears his throat.

“Well,” your Headmaster says pleasantly, as though you were all engaged in polite conversation rather than a strained silence. “This reunion was certainly a little earlier than anticipated, but I suppose that can’t be helped. I think we ought to give Mr Nott and Miss Y/L/N a moment alone.”

“Uh, can’t we stay in here too?” Lorenzo asks with a nervous chuckle, eyes darting to the watchful crowd standing right outside the door. You can’t blame him for wary, being an ex-Death Eater in a house full of Order members.

Mattheo nods, throwing an arm around Theodore’s shoulder, ignoring the glare he receives. “Yeah. These two won’t mind a bit of company. Right?” he asks you cheerfully. You blink at him.

“Relax, Berkshire,” Professor McGonagall says, rolling her eyes at the way Lorenzo has inched further into the room. She snaps her fingers to get them moving out the door. “Nobody is going to hex you, you silly boy.”

“Can’t say the same for Theo,” Mattheo mutters as he walks past you and follows everyone out, shutting the door.

You don’t really have any choice but to look at Theo now. He tries a smile again, despite the fact you’re not returning it and he takes a step towards you.

You immediately step back.

Theo flinches ever so slightly, his eyes unable to hide that he’s hurt.

Good, you think viciously.

Sighing, he looks at you imploringly like he wants to say something, but can’t find the words. “You’re angry with me,” he settles on muttering, his voice quiet in the dark room.

You let out a derisive laugh. “Angry? You worked that out, huh? Death-Eater’s didn’t completely addle your brain then, did they?”

“Darling, please let me explain,” Theo pleads, taking another few steps towards you.

Rather than stepping back, you whip out your wand and point it right at him. He doesn’t back away, merely raising his hands in surrender and arching an eyebrow as if to ask you if you’re serious. This angers you further.

“Do not call me darling,” you hiss, raising your wand further. Theo doesn’t react, as though he knows you’d never actually use magic to hurt him. Your hand trembles with the weight of the realisation that no, you wouldn’t hurt him. That you’ve actually been more worried that becoming a Death Eater would get him hurt than him betraying you. He left you with nothing but a cold goodbye and you still can’t help caring.

Feeling stupid, and a little bit pathetic, you drop your hand to your side and allow him to continue standing before you as he lowers his hands. You grit your teeth and cross your arms. “Explain.”

Theo lets out a relieved breath. “I never wanted to leave you,” he says, and you immediately roll your eyes. “I- no, look at me. I didn’t.”

“That doesn’t explain the fact that you did,” you deadpan, turning away to leave. Theo quickly reaches out to grasp both of your arms and gently turns you towards him.

You stiffen at the first physical contact you’ve had with him in months, your body betraying you and erupting goosebumps all over your arms in spite of your anger.

“I lied about it to protect you,” he whispers, peering at you through the strands of hair that are stubbornly falling into his eyes from weeks of neglect. Theo looks slightly pained and you recognise his expression to mean that he’s desperately trying to phrase his next words correctly. His eyes flick over to your right arm. No. To his left wrist, where you know his Dark Mark to be. “You can ask Dumbledore if you don’t believe me… Me and the others only ever took the Mark so we’d be able to spy on The D- on him.”

The relief hits you like a freight train and lightens your heavy chest all in one go. You hadn’t just felt betrayed by your boyfriend leaving you all those months ago. You had felt dread at the possibility of him joining a Pureblood supremacist’s cult. Dread at the idea that the views he’d shared with you were all lies and that he was a completely difference person to the one you loved.

Despite the relief, the sting of the breakup still lingers with you.

“That meant you had to be a prick when you left me?” you ask, voice shaking against your will. His eyes soften.

“Yes,” he says weakly. “How else could I have left you without worrying that… that he could use you against me if he found me out? I never wanted to take the Mark and it killed me when I saw the look on your face.”

Your scowl, trying your best to distract Theodore from the fact that your vision has gone blurry from the tears welling up in your eyes. By the look on his face, you doubt you’re doing a very good job. “Do you really think I would have cared about a fucking tattoo, if you had just told me the truth?”

“No, I know,” Theo sighs, absentmindedly drawing closer to you. “I’ll explain anything you want, but the work we did was too close to The Dark Lord to risk telling anyone about at the time. Dumbledore made me, Mattheo and Enzo swear not to say anything. It was safer that way.”

“Did you make an Unbreakable Vow?” you whisper, stiller than ever.

Theo furrows his brows. “No, but-”

You pull away from him abruptly and back away to the door, ignoring the way his hands reach out in an attempt to hold your arms again. “Then I hope the information you got for Dumbledore was worth it.”

You don’t look back at him, nor do you check to see if anyone is in the hallway as you run upstairs and into your room, slamming the door shut as you lean against it, breathing heavily. You stay there for a while, reeling from your anger and irritation at the fact you still have to stay in this bloody house while Theodore’s in it.

The next few days are confusing to say the least. Theo doesn’t seem to have any plans to avoid you, but he respects your space.

Sort of.

He isn’t badgering you every second of the day, but somehow whichever room you’re in, he finds himself in as well. Whenever you try and reach for something, even if it’s not on a particularly high shelf, or particularly far away, Theo beats you to it, ever the gentleman.

It’s starting to unnerve you a little.

One particular afternoon, you walk into the kitchen hoping to make a cup of tea in peace. At the table sits Theo, a cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers. When he spots you, he sits up straighter and you dawdle stupidly at the entrance.

Before you can snap out of it and remember what you came in here for, Theo gets up and walks over to the mugs. “Tea?” he asks politely, and, you think, a little hopefully.

“Will you make it and let me drink it alone?” you ask bluntly.

“I’ll make it and sit with you in silence,” he offers, undeterred despite your coldness.

Narrowing your eyes, you glance at the clock and sigh. It’s too early in the morning to put off having your tea, so you allow it. “Fine. Milk and-”

“Two sugars,” he cuts you off with an annoyingly smug smile. “I remember.”

You poke your cheek with your tongue, but stay silent as he turns his attentions to the kettle. Theo’s face quickly falls when he realises he has no idea how to use it. Your impassive expression almost cracks and you have to bite back a laugh as he examines the thing. Walking over to the counter, you drag the kettle so that it’s closer to you. And so you don’t have to be as close to Theo, but that’s besides the point.

“It’s already filled with water, you just need to flip the switch so it starts boiling,” you explain, pointing to the little part. Theo places his cigarette in between his lips as he furrows his brows, clearly skeptical of the muggle contraption. You suppose you can’t blame him since you, Hermione and Harry have had to explain the kettle to countless members of the Order since it was introduced to the house a few months ago.

You still don’t know where the plug socket is and considering the fact that Grimmauld Place has never inhabited muggles, you aren’t going to bother asking.

When Theo flicks the switch and sees the light turn red, a satisfied smile graces his lips where the cigarette still hangs. You look away from his mouth very quickly and go to sit down. Unable to leave without making things awkward, you decide the only thing to do is watch Theo make two cups of tea. He doesn’t need instruction since he knows exactly how you like it, but something catches in your throat when he uses a green mug. Your favourite colour.

The only sound in the kitchen is the clink of the spoon swirling in the cups and Theo soon brings both cups over with an incredibly concentrated frown to make sure there’s no spillages as he sets one down on the table. The other he hands to you himself and you have to clench your jaw when you grab it, your own hands brushing against his, which he doesn’t seem to be in a rush to move away.

“Thanks,” you mutter, trying to use the burning heat of the mug against your skin to distract from the fact that you have tingles.

“S’alright,” he replies, a barely restrained grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him over the rim of the mug as you sip your tea.

Damn, you think to yourself. Why is it always so good when he makes it?

The two of you settle into a surprisingly comfortable silence as you drink your tea and he smokes. The puffs are very carefully directed away from you, but you can’t help wrinkling your nose out of habit. Back when you were still together, you were always firm about him cutting down and now you have to restrain yourself from reaching over and plucking the cigarette out of his lips to throw it away like you used to do with ease. He never objected.

Theo notices your looks all the same, and it’s almost like he’s reading your thoughts. He raises a brow, almost daring you to remove the cigarette yourself. “You want me to stop?”

“I don’t care,” you say in an attempt to sound nonchalant. Shrugging, you try your hardest not to react to his obvious bait, but it’s like a bloody reflex. “It’s your lungs on the line, not mine. If you want to lose five years off your life, then by all means, go ahead. I really couldn’t care-”

“As you wish,” he interrupts you, grinning like an idiot again. The next thing you know, he’s putting out the cigarette, and sipping his tea instead. He doesn’t even like tea.

“I didn’t say you had to stop,” you grumble, slightly pleased nonetheless.

He merely hums, taking a gulp of his tea. You accidentally let out a snort of laughter when he grimaces at the taste. Theo’s lips quirk up in amusement when you laugh, unrestrained and it’s only when you catch him staring at you that you quickly stop.

The smug expression on his face quickly returns as though he knows you’re finding it hard to be fully angry at him.

“Stop looking at me like that,” you snap, drawing your knees up on your chair towards your chin. “You look stupid. And your hair is too long.”

Theo huffs out a surprised laugh. “My hair is too long?” he asks incredulously, reaching up to tug a piece down so it reaches the bottom of his nose. “Hm, you’re right. You cut it pretty good that one time. Would you do it again for me?”

“Mrs Weasley is better at it,” you say, chin jutting out stubbornly. “I’m sure she’d be delighted if you just ask.”

“The way she looks at me, I’d be lucky to get away with my head still attached to my body,” he drawls, wholly unimpressed by your suggestion. “Why can’t you do it?”

“Because I’m not done being angry with you yet,” you reply simply, draining the contents of your mug. “Trust me when I say you don’t want me anywhere near your head with a pair of scissors either.”

Theo nods slowly, a smile gracing his lips— strange, since you just threatened physical violence. “So, what I’m hearing is that you’re not going to be angry with me forever.”

“I- Well, I didn’t mean-” you stutter pointlessly, cutting yourself off with a sigh. “I don’t know yet. It’s too early for this, leave me alone.”

“That was the first cigarette I’ve had since before I left,” Theo says quietly, searching your face for a reaction, almost nervously.

You aren’t quite sure how to respond to this random piece of information and you find yourself floundering. “Uhm. Okay, good. That’s… Yeah, that’s great for you and your lungs, well done. Saves money too. They were actually, uh, saying on the news the other day that the average amount people spend on-”

“Darling, as much as I appreciate it, that’s not what I’m getting at,” he interrupts, the ghost of a smirk at his lips. You scowl at him for letting you go on for so long and motion for him to get to the bloody point. “Every time I brought a cigarette to my lips, I remembered you weren’t going to be there to nag me about it. It just feels pointless now.”

You stare at him. “Nice to know that my nagging was what you remembered me by.”

“That’s not-” Theo cuts himself off with a laugh that sounds halfway to a groan. “Merlin, you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can get a word out, Harry walks in which you find odd considering it’s so early in the morning and him and Ron are usually only out of bed when Mrs Weasley yells them down for breakfast.

“Morning,” he says through a yawn. The greeting is directed at you, but he sends an expectant look at Theo right after. “Time to leave, Nott.

“Leave for where?” you ask before you can help yourself. You realise with a start that Harry and Theo are dressed and ready while you’re still in your pyjamas. “Where do you have to go?”

“Horcrux hunting,” Harry says flippantly, as though he’s just announced he’s going fishing. Hermione had filled you in on the information Theo and the others had ascertained from their time with Voldemort, but you didn’t even consider them or Harry would actually be going with the Order to find them. “Nott and the others know more than we do, so they’re coming with.”

You level a look at Theo, who seems to be pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. “Thanks for sharing that tiny tidbit of information, by the way,” you mutter sourly.

He winces, getting up slowly from his chair. “It, uh, didn’t seem that important. It’s only a quick little task anyway. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“I’m not stupid,” you scoff, standing up so you can attempt to look a little more dignified as you confront Theo. Harry, on the other hand, looks as though he regrets his decision to enter the kitchen in the first place. Despite this, you hadn’t missed the way he furrowed his brows when Theo spoke. “Even if Harry wasn’t looking at you like you were speaking gibberish, I would know that you’re lying. It’s a Horcrux you’re leaving to get. Not the weekly food shop.”

Harry snickers at this, though quickly turns it into a cough when Theo sends him a withering glare. Sighing, you decide to ignore him for the moment and turn to Harry instead

“Be safe,” you say, gentler than before. “And don’t be a hero, just try and get out of there safely.”

“Pfft,” Harry waves you off, a sarcastic tone entering his voice. “When have you known me to do that?”

You roll your eyes, cracking a smile as he walks away, supposedly to find the rest of the group.

“Don’t I get a ‘be safe’ as well?” Theo tries for a casual, joking voice. A hint of irritation seeps through it though. You shift on your feet a little awkwardly, slightly flustered at his obvious jealousy.

“Uhm, okay. Bye,” you say stiffly, fiddling with the loose string of your cardigan sleeve so you have something to do with your hands other than ball them up at your sides. Theo seems to be satisfied with the curt response, or more likely your lack of insults, and he nods, turning away to leave. As you watch him walk away, a familiar sense of anxiety bubbles up in your stomach and you blurt out the only thing you can think of. “Don’t die!”

He slowly turns around, very clearly holding back a grin. You think you might thump the boy. “Will you forgive me if I come back alive?”

“Well,” you huff, crossing your arms. As petty as it may be, you’ve always found it hard to loosen a grudge. You settle for a shrug instead. “Come back alive first and then I’ll see.”

Theo takes two steps forward and closes the short distance that was previously allowing you to keep a cool- well, cool-ish, head. He keeps both arms behind his back, however, as he dips his head down slightly.

“My sweet, stubborn girl,” Theo says in a low voice. His proximity flounders you for a moment and you don’t even protest that no, you’re not his anything. The way your breathing turns shallow would be contradicting that greatly though. “I’ll try my best. And if I don’t come back alive, I promise you can yell at my ghost.”

You scowl, and this time you actually do thump him on the arm. “You’re not funny, you idiot. Now, go. I can already hear Mattheo irritating the patience out of Harry.”

Theo gives you a little two-fingered salute and a wink before he walks away again, leaving you alone with a funny feeling in settling in your stomach.

You aren’t the only one who sits anxiously in the living room waiting for the group to return with the infamous Horcrux. Ron has eaten his way through three bowls of cereal and rapidly makes a start on his fourth while Hermione tries to distract herself with reading a book that she hasn’t noticed is upside down.

After another hour goes by, Ginny, who was previously pacing up and down the stairs, sighs and turns Hermione’s book the right way up which startles her, causing her to give up altogether.

You sit cross-legged and completely still, other than switching your legs every time one of them goes numb. Eventually, you get so sick of watching Mrs Weasley mop over the same spot on the floor for the fifth time that you jump up from your seat, causing her to start and knock over the bucket of dirty mop water all over the floor.

“Oh, dear,” she mutters, waving her wand and siphoning all the water up in a second.

“Sorry, Mrs Weasley,” you say, wincing. “I’m just a little stressed since it’s been ages already-”

You get cut off by Hermione gasping at the sound of the front door opening along with voices. She grips your arm tightly. “They’re back!”

Barely registering the pain of her nails digging into the skin of your arm, you waste no time in running into the hall with the others to greet everyone at the door. You can’t help the relieved smile on your face when you do a quick head count and find everyone present.

As you get closer, you see how exhausted they look. Not to mention the fact they’re dripping water all over the rug. Harry stands at the front of the group looking like he might collapse if he stands any longer and Hermione and Ron pick up on this as they rush over to help him inside.

As they stumble him across the hall, you stop craning your neck as Theo comes into view. The relief you previously felt leaves you faster than your body knows how to deal with and you have to force yourself to breathe when you take in the state of him.

At first glance he doesn’t look particularly worse than the rest. They all have a vaguely haunted look in their eyes along with a sickly pallor like they haven’t seen the sun in days.

But the way Mattheo and Lorenzo are holding him up brings attention to the fact that all of his weight is being put on one leg. The other, to your horror, has a deep, bloody gash trailing down his thigh and onto his calf. The sight of blood steadily dripping onto the floor below has you frozen, almost mesmerised in a terrible way, and it’s not until Dumbledore speaks that you snap out of it and to attention.

“Miss Y/L/N, if you could please fetch Madam Pomfrey for me,” Dumbledore asks, his voice a lot calmer than you feel. You nod, turning away quickly before Theo can see the panic which is probably clear as day on your face.

It takes a scary second to find Madam Pomfrey, but as soon as you do, she gets down to business preparing her supplies in the living room which is as far as Theo seems to be able to make it.

He lays on the sofa, breathing shallowly as Madam Pomfrey crouches down beside him to begin assessing the wound. Peering at it closely, she looks up at Dumbledore sharply. “Inferi?”

“I’m afraid so,” he replies solemnly and you let out a choked sort of whimper.

“Merlin,” Ron whispers, looking like he might be sick. Whether that’s because Madam Pomfrey is cleaning Theo’s leg, or because of the mention of Inferi, you aren’t sure. “What the hell were you guys doing?”

“All will be explained, Mr Weasley,” Dumbledore reassures him, looking over his spectacles. “However, I must insist that for now we allow dear Madam Pomfrey to tend to Mr Nott’s injuries.”

“Will you be able to heal him?” Mattheo asks, swallowing hard. The concern in his voice for his best friend has your heart clenching and you look to Madam Pomfrey just as earnestly for an answer.

“Yes, I dare say I can,” Madam Pomfrey says grimly, but she pulls out a couple little bottle of potions from her bag with a frown. “That doesn’t mean it won’t be extremely painful, unfortunately.”

“Can’t imagine what pain feels like,” Theo mumbles, shifting his position on the sofa slightly and wincing. His face goes whiter than before and he shuts his eyes tightly from the pain, but he still manages to talk, however hard it may be. “Not like I’ve just had Inferi mistaking my leg for their lunch.”

“No talking and no moving,” Madam Pomfrey instructs Theo, sending him a stern glare.

“Sorry-”

“Shhh!” you hiss, giving him a glare of your own. Theo’s eyes flutter open slightly and his lips quirk up when he sees you leaning over him as close as you can get without Madam Pomfrey shooing you away.

His smile quickly drops when Madam Pomfrey pours some purple liquid into the open wound, causing it to hiss and smoke. The groan that leaves Theo has you holding your breath and you fight the urge to shut your eyes and turn away.

“Merlin, I can’t watch,” Lorenzo gags, his skin turning even sicklier than before. Turning away, he holds onto Mattheo’s shoulder to steady himself, the latter looking more interested than anything as he peers at Theo’s sizzling cut. Lorenzo shakes his head and holds a hand over his mouth every time he can hear Madam Pomfrey pouring more of the potion. “Oh, God, that’s disgusting.”

“Mr Berkshire, if you are unable to watch, then don’t,” Madam Pomfrey snaps, screwing the bottle shut and grabbing another one. She waves her hand in an impatient shooing motion. “In fact, everyone out. Now! This isn’t a Quidditch match, for heaven’s sake!”

Dumbledore starts filing everyone out and you consider staying for a minute but Madam Pomfrey’s raised eyebrows have you hurtling out of the room with everyone else. Theo starts to say something, but a drop of something else makes him grit his teeth and the green smoke produced by the potion follows you out the door.

The next hour or so is filled with Harry, Mattheo and Lorenzo being fussed over by Mrs Weasley, who insists on them going up to bed once they’ve cleaned up and changed into dry clothing. Unfortunately for the rest of you, this means you won’t be getting an update any time soon. Dumbledore is, as always these days, nowhere to be seen.

“I wonder if they found the Horcrux,” you say under your breath to Hermione as she anxiously taps her foot against the kitchen floor.

“They did,” she says grimly, glancing impatiently at the clock. She has her thinking face on, brows furrowed and gaze distant. “It was in a cave in the middle of nowhere. Harry quickly told me before Mrs Weasley sent them off. I wonder when they’ll wake up though… They didn’t look too happy, and I have a feeling it wasn’t all to do with Nott.”

You nod slowly, a weight lifting off your chest despite the last part. If, after all this, they hadn’t retrieved the Horcrux, you think you’d probably have gone to the bloody cave yourself.

“Theodore’s resting now, anyway,” Hermione adds, giving you a quick glance as though she’s waiting for a reaction. You keep your face as impassive as you can, attempting a casual nod. “Madam Pomfrey says he’s healing nicely and his leg will be fine. It’ll just be a bit sore for a few days. I’m sure he’s awake if you want to go see him.”

“I might,” you mumble, shrugging. You try to sound flippant, but the urge to clamber out of your seat probably shows because Hermione rolls her eyes at you.

“Oh, why don’t you just put him out of his misery?” she asks, her words coming out at the speed of light, like she’s been wanting to say it for a while. You blink at her in shock. Sighing, she leans over the table and her tone becomes gentle. “I know he lied to you, and you should be angry with him for that! But… well, it’s been a really awkward few days with him asking us where you are every second of the day. And, technically, he was never really a Death Eater, he was helping our side!”

Hermione takes a deep breath and exhales, slumping back in her seat as she waits for your reaction. You try not to laugh. “How long have you been holding that one in?”

“Since the second he turned up here,” she says, sagely. “Now, don’t change the subject! Go and see him. Go on, off you go!”

You stand up, swiftly dodging Hermione’s flapping hands to try and rush you out the door. “Okay, I’m going. It’s probably about time anyway,” you grumble, a fond smile creeping up on you nonetheless.

Looking satisfied, Hermione stops trying to usher you out and you make your way over to the living room again. The door is open and you sigh with relief when you notice the room is empty, bar Theo who’s in the same position as he was the last time you saw him. His eyes are shut and you wonder if he’s sleeping until you step on a creaky floorboard and he cracks one eye open.

“Hey,” you say quietly, tip-toeing into the room to perch on the coffee table adjacent to the sofa. “Did I wake you?”

“Nah,” Theo replies, moving to sit up as much as he can. You suspect he’d have the same answer even if he was asleep. He looks a lot more awake than he did before and you feel your chest squeeze tightly when you realise how glad you are. Theo seems to notice this and he reaches over to hold one of your hands, detaching it from the way you grasp them both together. “I promised you I’d come back alive, didn’t I?”

You snort, shaking your head at his ability to be so chipper. “Alive and dripping blood all over the carpet. You know if Kreacher finds out it was you, he’ll murder you in your sleep, right?”

“It doesn’t count if I die now,” Theo protests, frowning as if you’re talking about a serious possibility and not joking. “Deal was you’d forgive me if I came back alive after finding the Horcrux, remember?”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think deeply about it as he rubs circles on the back of your hand with his thumb. It causes you to momentarily lose your focus. “What I remember saying is that I would think about it.”

Theo shakes his head, a look of mock concern overtaking his features. “I think the stress of my injury has gotten to your memory… What I remember is you vowing to forgive me the moment I stepped foot in this place.”

“I think Madam Pomfrey’s painkillers are getting to you,” you say drily, moving to kneel on the floor next to him.

“She didn’t use any,” Theo grumbles, looking mournfully at the bandages on his leg. “She’s really sadistic, I’m telling you.”

You laugh, ducking your head so you aren’t flustered by the way Theo’s eyes focus on your smile with a grin of his own.

“You know what she told me would help with the pain?” Theo asks quietly, his enviously long eyelashes fanning over his cheekbones as he looks down at you, almost nervously.

“Let me guess,” you say, sitting up so the distance between your faces is much shorter now. “A kiss to make it all better?”

“Healer’s orders,” he says, shrugging. His breathing quickens when you don’t move away and he swallows hard, eyes dropping lower to your mouth when you bite your lip to stop from cracking a smile. “I’m not saying you have to, but if you’re okay with going directly against her orders, then-”

You cut him off by pressing a lingering kiss to his lips and he inhales sharply, unmoving for a split second before parting his lips and deepening the kiss. Theo’s hands move to your waist where he uses his remaining strength to hoist you up onto the sofa next him, one of your legs thrown over his waist as you half-straddle him.

You gasp into his mouth when he nips at your bottom lip and the sound he makes in the back of his throat has your cheeks warming up and you kiss him harder. The fact it’s been so long since you’ve even been near him has you both kissing for what feels like hours and you only pull away when you need to breathe and you’re worried you’re leaning on Theo’s leg.

Pulling away, you scan Theo’s face and pause for a second to take in his beautiful features. His eyes are blown wide like he can’t believe he’s here with you, kissing you. A warm feeling starting in your stomach spreads all the way down to the tips of your fingers as he looks at you.

“Any other very important requests from the Healer?” you ask breathlessly, feeling a shiver run down your spine where Theo lightly skims his fingers. A dangerous smile overtakes his face and his lips, pink and swollen from kissing you, curve up, causing you to narrow your eyes at him.

“I think she mentioned something about a sponge bath?”

You whack his arm and he yelps, grabbing your wrist to stop you assaulting him further. “Hey, I’m an injured patient!”

“Your leg is injured, not your arm.”

“It is now,” he says, pouting as he rubs dramatically at his bicep where you lightly thumped him. He grumbles when you roll your eyes and press another kiss to his lips to get him to stop pouting. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Hm,” you hum, settling your face in his chest and sighing at the warmth of his arms, feeling him smile against your forehead where he kisses you.

© angelfic 2023.

[kat651]

Imagine: elves having highly sensitive ears and you finding out by accidently touching them.

(You are half-elven and your ears aren’t near as sensitive to touch). 

Elrond:

You sat on the divan, lord Elrond was laying with his head on your lap as you gently played with his hair, letting him rant to get all his hidden bottles up emotions out. “Oh! And then-” he sat up and sighed. “I’ll just say that meeting was a disaster…” he slumped and looked over at you. “I’m sorry to rant like this…”

You smiled. “It’s alright…” you mumbled as you gently tucked a stray hair behind his ear, tracing it up to the pointed tip then down to his jaw. As you did, the pulled away. “What? What is it?” 

“Nothing, it’s just that the ears of an elf are highly sensitive…”

You scooted closer. “Is that so?” You placed your hand on the back of his head so he couldn’t pull away and with the other you hand you gently traced the edge of his ear. 

He went to pull away but you held him fast and it only took a moment for him to go limp in your arms as you continued to mess with his ears. 

You smiled as he lay with his back pressed against your chest. His eyes were shut and his lips slightly parted as you continued to gently mess with his adorable pointed ears. 

You smiled as a soft blush spread across his cheeks and the tip of his nose. “Aww, you look so cute when you blush…”

He opened an eye and looked up at you before he closed his eye again. 

“Elrond…” you whispered after a moment. 

The elven lord didn’t answer. He didn’t even stir and on top of that his breathing has slowed. You smiled and leaned down to place a gentle kiss on his forehead before closing your eyes as well. 

Legolas:

You and Legolas had been close for some time now and you had innocently came up behind him and began to mess with his hair, slightly damp from having recently washed it.  

He turned to look at you. “Y/n?” You began to braid the hair by his ears, putting it into the style he normally wore. He relaxed and let you fix his hair for him. All went well until the last braid. Your pinky slowly slid down the outside of his ear as you braided it. He leaned back until his head fell on your chest as he breathed deeply. 

“Legolas?” 

“Ears…sensitive…elves…” he mumbled. 

You smiled and kissed his temple. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” You asked, finishing off the braid. 

He shrugged as you then went and touched the tip of his ear. He smiled and closed his eyes. “I knew you’d… mess with… me…”

Thranduil:

You chuckled as he walked into one of the manny tents that lined the elven war camp. “What is so funny?” He asked, draping his cape over a chair. 

You walked up to him. “Here,” you said, motioning for him to lean down a bit. He did, raising an eyebrow, you gently adjusted the silver crown, re-centering it in his forehead. As you did, you bumped the top of his ear. His eyelids fluttered for a moment before his hands flew up and grasped your wrists in one swift movement. You yelped in shock. 

He loosened his grip a bit and gently rubbed your wrists. 

You whimpered. “L-lord Thranduil?” 

He sighed and let go of your wrists before standing straight and looking down at your startled face. 

He sighed. “Sometimes I forget you are half human… elves ears are highly sensitive…”

“I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t know I-”

His lips met yours as he slowly brought your hands to this ears. You hesitated a moment before gently rubbing your finger along his ear. He let go of your wrists and pulled your body closer. “Y/n…”

Lindir:

Lindir had been messing with you in a playful matter all day and you eventually decided to play back. You gently took his face in your hands. “You stubborn… elf…”

You had expected his eyes to widen and him to turn an adorable shade of pink but instead his eyes fluttered closed and lips parted slightly. “Y-y/n…m-my ears…”

“Hmmm… are they sensitive?”

“Yes, v-very…”

“Well it would be a shame if someone were to oh I don’t know perhaps…” you stood on the tips of your toes and very gently took the tip of his ear between your teeth. 

His body instantly went limp and you gently lowered him to the ground before nipping gently at his ear while you ran your fingers through his hair. 

He clawed at your back. “Y-y/n…” 

You smiled. “Hmmm?”

He managed to look up at you before something took over his brain and his lips smashed on yours. “I love you…”

Your eyes widened. You’d only been dating him for a few days. You hadn’t even told anyone and here he was, kissing you as if you’d been together for years. 

You pulled away, startled. “Lindir?” 

He looked up at you with pleading eyes before he realized what he had done and he scooted away. “Y/n I-I’m sorry i-”

You pressed your lips on his again and began to mess with his ears once more. “I love you too.”

pt two here

[vrystalius]

could you do hashira men with an s/o that's taller than them? (idk how this would work for gyomei since hes a literal beast)

Being taller than the hashira

How will they react to their s/o being taller than them?

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu x gn!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa (179cm, 5’10")

You just can’t stop annoying him for being taller, can you? You with the head-pats, weather jokes and whatnot. It annoys Sanemi to no end how Genya is taller than him, someone who’s supposed to be smaller just because of his age, and now you’re doing it too! You’re supposed to be his spouse, damn it! Stop holding things above his head where he can’t reach it! He’s completely average height! Why are you even teasing him like this? It’s not Sanemi’s fault you’re rivalling the height of a mountain, so why make it his problem that you’re insecure, huh?!

Also, do not even dare to pet his head like you would with a child. He will kick your leg or break your kneecaps when you do it. He’s a grown man and doesn’t need you joking to him everyday that Sanemi’s going to get taken away during the Christmas period to work in Santa’s workshop as an elf. (Let’s pretend Santa exists in the Taisho Era)

“Never pat my head again. NEVER. And now fuck off or I’ll ignore your ass for the next week, no kisses, no nothing.”

Kyojuro Rengoku (177cm, 5’10")

It’s very amusing and adorable to him. Kyojuro needs to lift his face a little to properly face you and tip-toe a little to kiss you. It’s one of his favourite things in the world. Also, another thing he loves about you being taller than him is how comfortable it is to hug and hold you. Once he wraps his arms around your waist he can perfectly nuzzle his face against and into your warm chest.

It’s very endearing to him how you have to lean down to kiss him on the lips and how you sometimes pat his head as a greeting or just randomly without a reason. It makes Kyojuro’s whole day when you ruffle his hair a little everytime your hand touches the top of his head.

He sometimes hears from Tengen’s wives how they steal Tengen’s clothes to wear them, and he wanted to test this out himself. His clothes are too tight and small on you, but your clothes somehow fit him perfectly. They’re a little oversized, but that’s what makes them so comfortable. Kyojuro steals your clothes daily and wears them around the house with a huge smile.

“Oh, is that a new shirt, my love? May I try it on as well? It looks very comfortable!”

Gyomei Himejima (220cm, 7’2")

It was very surprising to him when he first met you. Gyomei believed that no one is capable of being taller than him, but you proved him wrong. He almost pitied you for towering over everything, like him. Due to his height, many people find him intimidating and scary, something you probably experienced yourself as well. He is very curious about your own experiences about being so tall and how people act around you.

Also, Gyomei feels very comfortable around you. He’s actually glad that his spouse is a little taller than him, that way he’s not afraid of scaring you with his height alone. He asked you not to tell anyone in case people ask, but he adores being the little spoon snd being held by you during the nights. It makes him feel just a little safer and more loved.

“My love, may I lay my head against your chest? You’re incredibly warm…”

Giyu Tomioka (176cm, 5’9")

Your height makes him slightly insecure about his own height. Giyu knows that he’s not the tallest of them all and that you can’t influence your height, but he’s just average. Average in fighting, average-to-worst-hashira, average in protecting, and now average in height. Seeing you tower over him like that… it just stings a little.

Yet, he likes when you have to lean down to kiss Giyu. It makes him flustered how you sometimes tilt his chin and lean down. One time, you lifted him up into your arms and peppered his face in kisses, then putting him back down and walking off. You left him behind to get all flustered and embarrassed. It makes him… feel things when you can throw him around with ease. It’s embarrassing, incredibly so, but he just can’t deny it to himself how much he actually likes it. He just really hopes you won’t notice.

“Put me down. Please. Pretty please.”

💠

I know this is short, so forgive me! I want to post at least two things today and take advantage of my sickday as much as possible :P! Hope you enjoyed reading it and thank you so much for requesting! This was fun!

Anyways, take care of yourselves <3

Make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

[corroded-hellfire]

My Favorite Elf - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: When you and Nancy go to the mall to finish up your Christmas shopping, the sound of a familiar voice leads you to a jolly surprise.

Note: I wrote this for @palomahasenteredthechat’s 12 Days of Joemas with the prompt “Is that velvet?” 💚❤️

Words: 1.4k

The holiday season at Starcourt Mall can be a chaotic nightmare on nights and weekends. Crowds so dense you can hardly see any of the mannequins modeling the latest looks at the GAP. It’s for this reason that you and Nancy decide to make a mall run straight from school one Tuesday afternoon. 

With most parents still at work and middle and elementary schools still in session, the mall is the calmest you’ve seen since before Halloween. You and Nancy plan on taking full advantage of getting all those last minute gifts you’ve been meaning to buy.

“Okay, I got the shoes,” Nancy says, jostling the brown paper bag in her hand in emphasis. “You wanted to go to Walden Books next?”

“Yeah!” you say. “I saw this book there the other day and I think Eddie would really like it.”

“Why didn’t you get it for him then?”

“He was with me,” you laugh. “As busy as it was, I still think he would’ve noticed me buying something.”

The bookstore is on the second floor, so you and Nancy have to take the escalators closest to the food court. Right before you lift your foot to hover over the silver steps, you hear a familiar voice coming from behind the escalators. 

“Are you ready? Come on, we’ll go up together.”

Your brow furrows in puzzlement, and Nancy turns to look at you with the same expression mirrored on her face. Together, you walk around to see what Eddie is doing at the mall and who he’s talking to.

A Winter Wonderland greets you and Nancy as you step around the towering escalators. The centerpiece is a life-size gingerbread house decorated with every type of candy you can think of. Colorful gumdrops frame the front door, pieces of licorice act as shutters to the icing windows, and oversized swirling lollipops stand around the house like a security team. 

Fake pine trees dot the scenery, their needles covered in fake snow. In fact, fake snow permeates about every spare inch on the display. It’s all around the platform and heavily dusted over the roof of the house. 

Sitting right in the middle of it all is the man himself: Santa Claus. He’s perched atop a large red throne smack dab in the middle of the wonderland. The entire display is surrounded by a white, glittery snowflake fence. 

There’s a girl dressed as an elf in a green tulle skirt and red tights standing behind a camera facing the big man. Your eyes then come across the best sight of all.

Your hand comes up to cover your enormous grin as you take in your boyfriend in his very own elf attire. The left half of his button up shirt is red, while the right half is entirely green. The same is true of the pants, just reversed; a green left leg and a red right leg. His hair is tucked up in a bun at the base of his neck and the rest of his curls are hidden by the green Santa hat on top of his head. The hat has golden jingle bells on the top and fake points to rest on top of Eddie’s ears to give the magical illusion of elf ears. The part that tickles you the most though is the shoes. They’re green with pointed toes that curl up, with a golden jingle bell attached to the tip of each. 

“Did you know he was working here?” Nancy asks you, a few giggles escaping her. 

“No!” You laugh but find it strange to look at his hands and see no chunky silver rings. 

The only people in the line to meet Santa are a little girl with long blonde hair, half up in a pink ribbon, and her mother. It’s understandable that there's hardly a crowd here on a Tuesday afternoon. The little girl looks scared and won’t let go of her mom’s hand no matter how much she encourages her. 

Eddie walks over to the girl and crouches down to her level.

“Hi. My name is Eddie. What’s your name?”

“Christina,” she answers softly.

“It’s nice to meet you, Christina. Are you a little nervous to meet Santa?”

She nods her head.

Eddie offers her his hand. “What if we go up there together?”

Christina still looks hesitant.

“You don’t have to be afraid of him,” Eddie says with a shake of his head. “He just wants to know what you want for Christmas so us elves can get to work on it. That is…if you’re on the nice list.” Eddie tilts his head and raises his eyebrows. “You have been good this year, right?”

“Yes.”

“That’s what I thought! Now, do you want to come up and tell Santa what you want?”

Christina stares at Eddie with wide blue eyes for a few moments before she nods her head. Eddie gives her a smile and extends his hand again. This time, Christina takes it. 

You watch as Eddie leads the small girl up to Santa and tells him her name. He crouches down and stays there until Christina seems more comfortable with Santa. When she climbs on his lap, Eddie steps aside so she can share what she wants with Santa in private. 

Once a picture has been snapped, Christina hops off of Santa’s lap and Eddie gives her a candy cane before she leaves the little Christmas village with her mom.

There’s nobody else in line to meet Santa, but he’s still scheduled to be there for another two hours according to the sign. The photographer elf starts cleaning up around her area and Eddie shuffles around his small space, looking for something to do. You take the opportunity to walk closer to the magical scene, Nancy right behind you.

“And here I thought Hermey the little elf dentist was the cutest elf I’ve ever seen,” you say as you approach the fence.

Eddie looks up and you immediately see his cheeks darken, but he gives you a bright smile.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks.

“Shopping,” Nancy answers, holding up her bags as proof.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, looking at all the festiveness around him.

“I’m just here for the candy canes.” He laughs when you pinch your eyebrows together. “Figured I’d get a holiday job and make some extra money.”

“What for?” you ask, knowing there’s nothing you want that could cost more than a few dollars. And that Wayne will probably just get a new mug. Again.

“Well,” Eddie says with a shrug. “I know your favorite band is starting a tour next month…”

“My favorite band besides Corroded Coffin,” you say, pointing an index finger at him.

“Yes, of course, that goes without saying.”

“Eddie, you didn’t have to do this,” you tell him, though your heart grows three sizes at the gesture.

“I wanted to,” he says with a bashful shrug. 

You peek behind the gingerbread house and raise your eyebrows at Eddie when you see it’s away from any possible prying eyes. He chuckles and nods his head in that direction.

“Be right back,” you tell Nancy.

“Take your time,” she teases.

Eddie helps you over the snowflake fence and you take another look at his costume. He looks even cuter in it closer up.

“Is that velvet?” you ask.

“No, thank God. Cotton. This already gets hot enough.”

“Look at my adorable elf boyfriend,” you say with a playful smirk.

His face starts to turn red as you wrap your arms around his neck. He places his hands on your waist and gives a small squeeze.

“You know,” you muse, tilting your head to the side. “You didn’t ask me.”

“Ask you what?”

“If I’ve been good this year.”

Eddie laughs and leans in to nudge his nose against yours.

“Because I already know the answer to that one. Pretty sure I contributed to it,” he says in a low voice, causing goosebumps to run down your arms.

He presses his lips over yours and holds you up against his body as he claims your mouth. Your hands slide into his hair, and it makes the green hat move, causing the little bell to jingle.

You pull away, unable to keep kissing because you’re full of giggles. Eddie sighs.

“Fine,” he whispers. “I guess we’ll just have to get naughty later then.”

[charmandabear]

Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

Summary:

Just some nice little smut inspired by Noctis’ Rockstarion render as well as Purple Danger Noodle’s incredible art. (Seen above, and I have permission to post this!)

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2k Tags/Warnings: modern au, rock band au, band manager halsin, rockstarion, anal fingering, hand job, anal sex, desk sex, soft daddy dom Halsin, brat Astarion, blood drinking

I’d been meaning to post this for a while, but I figured today is a good day because tonight I’ll be streaming my Astarion origin run, right in time for Halsin’s romance scene! Check me out on Twitch, I’ll be streaming at 7:30 Central time. Hope to see you there!

Read it on AO3

Astarion swaggers offstage, covered in sweat and glitter, endorphins running high. He bursts into Halsin’s office only to find his manager bent over some papers with a serious expression on his face. Well, this simply won’t do at all. He pops himself onto the corner of Halsin’s desk, leather pants squeaking as he crosses his legs. Halsin glances up at him over his glasses, unamused by the rock star’s antics.

“Astarion,” he says in a low voice, a warning. A cheeky grin slides onto Astarion’s face as he nudges Halsin’s thigh with the toe of his boot. Halsin sighs, takes off his glasses, and stands to tower over Astarion.

“Another charge from the hotel. What on God’s green earth possessed you to steal the hair dryer? Did you need to rip it out of the wall?” He folds his beefy arms and fixes Astarion with a reproachful stare. Astarion uncrosses his legs and leans back on his hands, returning Halsin’s stern look with an impish one. Halsin steps between Astarion’s legs and slides a hand into his long silvery locks, giving a quick little tug. Astarion’s mouth pops open as a satisfied groan escapes his painted lips, his hips tipping forward to try to close the distance between them.

Halsin pulls him into a hard kiss, pressing his groin against the growing bulge in Astarion’s pants. He slips his tongue past the musician’s lips, the acrid taste of menthol cigarettes and tequila lingering in his mouth. He breaks the kiss, keeping their faces in close proximity.

“I thought I told you to stop smoking those awful things,” he says gruffly. “They’ll ruin your voice and then I’ll be out of a job.”

“Don’t worry, Daddy Halsin, with a talent like yours you’ll never be out of a job,” he says with a breathy chuckle, and reaches forward to palm his manager’s cock, earning a low grumble in return. Halsin tightens his hand in Astarion’s hair, who gasps and pulls his lips back into a smile, his fangs glinting in the low light of the office.

“I’ve told you not to call me that.” Halsin’s tone is threatening, but his rutting hips give him away. Astarion hooks his thigh high boots around Halsin’s waist and pulls him closer.

“So do something about it, daddy,” Astarion taunts, and with a single motion Halsin tears through Astarion’s pants, the leather ripping easily at the seams. The rock star isn’t wearing any underwear, most likely because he knew he was going to get lucky one way or another. His cock springs forth, pink bulbous tip already leaking with a drop of precum. Halsin takes it in his hand and swipes his thumb over the slit, gathering the liquid onto his finger.

“Open,” he commands and Astarion obeys instinctively, taking his thumb into his mouth and sucking ferociously. The taste of himself dances over his tongue and he looks up at Halsin with round coquettish eyes. Halsin returns the look, heavy lidded, his breath stuttering as Astarion’s tongue swirls around his thumb. With his other hand, he quickly undoes his belt, pulling out his own girthy cock and letting it land with a thump on the desk. When Astarion sees it, his moan vibrates through Halsin’s hand.

Halsin curls his fingers around Astarion’s jaw and pulls him forward so his lips can press against the pale elf’s ear. 

“Little one, how much of my cock do you think you’ll be able to take tonight? A third? Half?” he hums in a low tone, and Astarion shudders.

“All of it, please,” he whimpers as he pops Halsin’s thumb out of his mouth, a trail of saliva still connected to his lips. Halsin utters a low and dangerous chuckle, taking his slick thumb and pressing it to Astarion’s puckering rim. 

“Will you let me take the time to stretch you out properly? You have not been known for your patience, historically.” He pushes his thumb past his entrance and Astarion rewards him with a needy whine.

“Yes, please, I’ll be patient,” he says through gasping breaths, “just please don’t stop.” He lets his vinyl jacket slide off his arms and latches his hands onto the back of Halsin’s neck to brace himself.

Continuing to work his thumb inside Astarion, Halsin’s hand fumbles with his desk drawer, pulling out a jar of coconut oil. He yanks one of Astarion’s hands from his neck and presses the jar into his palm.

“Be good and open it for me, would you, love?” He grunts, focusing his energy on twisting and pumping his thumb. Astarion opens the jar eagerly, holding it out for Halsin to scoop it with his unoccupied hand. The sweet smell he now associates with fucking his manager wafts up to his nose and his cock twitches in response.

“Coming around on the coconut oil, are you?” Halsin laughs, and Astarion makes a failed attempt to pout.

“You fucking hippie,” he gasps, his voice completely overtaken by desire. Halsin takes a generous chunk of the white substance and it quickly melts on his warm fingers. He pulls out his thumb and replaces it with two oiled digits and Astarion drops the jar somewhere on the carpeted floor.

“That better not have broken, my Star,” Halsin warns as Astarion pushes himself further down onto his thick fingers. He roughly grabs the vampire’s pointed chin, holding it tight between his forefingers and the thumb that had just been inside him. “Understood? I’d rather not have to punish you for something so trivial.” A wide grin breaks out across Astarion’s lips.

“I promise, Daddy Halsin, when you punish me it will be for a very good reason,” he replies wickedly, running his tongue across the tip of his fangs. Halsin let out a primal growl before silencing him with another fierce kiss. He roughly thrusts his fingers into Astarion, putting the weight of his hips behind it. Halsin’s throbbing cock skids across the glossy surface of the desk, aching to be inside his obstinate charge. He scissors his fingers hastily and Astarion cries into his lips, hooking his heels into the soft flesh of Halsin’s ass.

“Well then why don’t you put those pretty little lips to good use before you give me one?” Halsin growls, pulling his fingers out and replacing them with the tip of his cock. He bares his neck to Astarion whose tongue darts over his lips hungrily. “Kissing and licking only, you must earn the right to bite,” he clarifies and Astarion lets out an exasperated whine that gets quickly cut off by Halsin pushing into him.

“Fuck, Astarion,” he groans as the musician licks the sweat from his neck. “You’re so tight, are you sure you can take it?”

“Yes, please,” he says on a breathy moan, his fingers coiling into Halsin’s auburn hair. “I need to feel you, I need to taste you, please, I can take it, I promise, I’ll be so good for you.” 

Halsin laughs quietly; he has such a way with lyrics, and yet it’s still so easy to reduce him to a babbling mess. He slides in a little deeper, Astarion panting and squeezing his eyes shut. Halsin grabs his chin again and brings the musician’s gaze to him.

“Look at me, my Star, look at me and breathe,” he coos gently and Astarion’s wet eyes lock onto Halsin’s face. He kisses him again, languid and slow this time, and pushes in a little further. “That’s my good boy, taking me so well.” Halsin strokes Astarion’s neglected cock, earning a stuttered whimper in response. His hips cant into Halsin’s hand, desire and need driving him forward.

“You’re almost there,” Halsin continues his tender coaxing, “and you feel so good, my Star.” His forehead falls onto Astarion’s shoulder, the spice from his cologne overtaking his senses. He’s trying to control his speed, but his head grows cloudy with the rocker’s heady scent and he pushes a little too fast. Astarion cries out in response and Halsin instinctively pulls out slightly.

“No, please don’t stop,” Astarion mewls pathetically, “I can take it, I need you inside me, please Halsin.”

“So hungry,” Halsin laughs, “but for my cock or my blood, I wonder?” Astarion clings to his hair and tightens his legs, pulling Halsin in completely until he bottoms out. They both groan loudly, their voices mixing together in a symphony of hedonistic desire. 

“Hnng, such a good boy,” Halsin wheezes and tilts his head, exposing his neck. “My good boy has earned his reward.” Astarion sinks his fangs into Halsin’s thick jugular and drinks deeply, his sweet blood flooding his mouth and rushing directly to his cock. He grabs onto the collar of Halsin’s button down, his breaths coming in short stuttered puffs with each thrust of Halsin’s cock. Halsin growls wordlessly into Astarion’s ear, his lips brushing against the tip. Astarion unlatches from Halsin’s neck, blood dripping down his front and splashing onto his chest, seeping easily through his mesh shirt.

“Must you always leave a mess wherever you go?” Halsin grumbles and Astarion lasciviously licks blood off his fingers.

“But you’ll put up with it for this tight little hole,” he responds with a cheeky grin, the recent blood he drank making him bold. Halsin roughly pulls out of him and grabs the leather collar around his neck, pulling him closer.

“What was that about me punishing you for a good reason?” he hisses, and before Astarion can respond the burly elf has him flipped around and bent over the desk, his rock hard cock caught between the smooth mahogany and the leather strap across his stomach. Halsin grabs hold of Astarion’s silver locks and pulls his head up as he continues fucking him from behind. 

“You’ll clean up after yourself, won’t you little Star? Say ‘Yes, Daddy Halsin.’” Halsin’s voice is gruff and stuttered, and Astarion can tell he’s getting close. The friction from Halsin’s thrusts pushing his cock into the desk is bringing Astarion to the precipice as well.

“I thought you didn’t like it when I called you that,” Astarion rasps, his words losing some of their sharp edge given how strangled they are. Halsin pulls harder on Astarion’s hair and the rock star gasps out a laugh.

“Yes, Daddy Halsin,” he huffs, and his compliance earns him Halsin’s hand on his cock. He groans with relief, pushing his hips back into his manager’s while also thrusting into his hand. 

“My beautiful Star,” he grunts into Astarion's shoulder, his thrusts losing pace and growing erratic. Astarion lets his head fall back, breathing heavy, losing himself in the sensations. Halsin pumps his hand vigorously and moans loudly when Astarion comes, his seed spilling over his fingers and dripping down onto the desk. A few more rough thrusts and Halsin's coming too, groaning and feeling Astarion clench around his pulsing cock.

The two of them still, panting and coming down off their sex-induced high. Halsin kisses Astarion’s shoulder and pulls out, stepping back to survey the damage. He has blood splattered across his collar and down his arm, sweat and semen mix together in the crumpled mess of papers on the desk. Astarion leans forward on his hands, giggling.

Halsin tucks his softening cock back into his pants and straightens his bloodied shirt. 

“Well now,” he says in a much more genial tone, “you can get started on cleaning up all of this, and I think I'll go take a shower.” Astarion whips around, fixing Halsin with a shocked glare.

“There is no way in hell am I cleaning up this mess,” he pouts, and Halsin hooks a finger through the o-ring on Astarion's collar, a dangerous smile playing on his lips.

“You will, little Star, if you don't want the hotel damages to come out of your bottom line,” he murmurs, reaching around and giving Astarion’s bare ass cheek a tight squeeze. “But I suppose you've earned the right to clean yourself up first.” He tugs on Astarion's collar and the musician stumbles forward, his lips curling into a smile as Halsin leads him to the shower in the adjacent room.

[werecreature-addicted]

Birth Control Anon again (Gotta come up with another name for myself someday). Remember that post about how centaurs can't mastrubate that was circling Tumblr a little while ago? Just thinking about it about it and imagine; You work as something of a monster sexpert, you have a nice little business providing toys and gear for anyone and anything. Nice treated iron chains for a kinky elf looking for the right sort of sting during a BDSM session? You've done that. A suspension rig that can (safely) hold all 13 ft of a lamia and still be sexy? You can get one done in a few weeks. A cocksheathe for a werewolfs poor human boyfriend who can't really measure up to non-human dicks? Got it in a week and a pamphlet on how else you can please your partner to boost his confidence. You get the picture. You've made a name for yourself in certain circles.

When a shy centaur tip-toes his way into your workroom, you're almost surprised that you've yet to have one as a customer before today. He explains his perdicament, he simply cannot reach back there himself and he's broken too much furniture humping it trying to get off. Can you do anything to help him out? You ask him about his preferances, what he wants or needs and he shyly reveals just HOW inexperienced he is in all of this. Trying to vaguely explain such and such a thing he's seen in some centaur videos and you two end up watching it together--for research purposes, of course. You work on the fuck machine for him, it's a long process and you don't normally update a client as often as you do to him, but the few times you've been on a phone call, his excitement and anticipation is palpable over the phone and you can't help but think this is like edging for him. When it's done you ask him if he want's to try it out, he blanches a little. Right now? Infront of you? You tell him yes, it's a big rig and you want to make sure everything's a-okay. He's blushing and shaking with excitement as you help set him up and then...

i mean this is your first time making something like this and this is his first time fucking something like this you HAVE to be there to watch, just to make sure everything fits properly. maybe even lube up his cock and help him mount the toy before fucking the shit out of it. :3 all part of customer service baby.

[allegedgreywarden]

i see so many elf and human Rooks romancing Lucanis but can we consider a qunari Rook. just towering over that short Antivan man. Lucanis leaning in on his tip toes in that pantry scene. Rook literally sweeping him off his feet to kiss him like in those romance books Lucanis reads. this is what he deserves.

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, yandere, monster au, orc x elf!reader, huge size difference

fem reader

Orc Master – who makes his pretty collared elf-pet lick and kiss his heavy balls because his cock won’t fit in her mouth…

They’re the size of grapefruits – bigger than your tits, nearly bigger than your head, and you can only suck a small spot at a time – smacking off the warm weights with a lewd pop before suckling another place just shy of it.

He strokes his cock above you – pearls of pre, more like marbles, trickle down the spine of it before dripping onto your face and chest.

His other hand cradles the entirety of your skull, holding a fat thumb on your brow – angling your head to look past the thick structure shadowing you up into his hooded eyes filled with carnal heat, leering at your pretty face smothered in his sack, begging for what’s kept inside them, warm and ready to flood your guts and breed you full.

His brawny legs are taller than you as you kneel between them – feeling like a beggar praying to a god. His foot, larger than your leg – and his big toe, the size of your fist. Making the whole ground shake when he stomps it down next to you – wordlessly encouraging you to be more eager. 

He's always glossy with old and new sweat – layered thickly and sticky on his tough skin, along with red and brown flecks of blood and mud – highlighting every fat muscle as though carved in metal. Broad shoulders swole with brute strength – even his neck is buff with it, thicker than your thighs – looking proud and toppling as he looms above you. 

His words are few but weighty, grunting out, “Tongue.” Appeased when you listen and stick the pink thing inside his dickhole. Endearment in his voice, purring out “good bitch…” and softly calling you his “tiny elf-whore,” while petting your hair – steering your little head up and down his tall shaft, letting your mouth catch all the spilled mess frothing from his leaky tip.

The muscles in his thighs flex while you suck along his thick veins, pulsing where they fork along the tall tower. You have to gulp when you think about how massive it is – you can’t even reach around it when using both your hands – and you have no sound understanding of how it even fits inside you at all.

When he sucks your tits, he’ll take half of them inside his warm mouth – nomming on them while he stretches your hole with one finger after the other. 

His digits are the size of a male elf’s manhood – you can’t reach fully around one with your hand – and he’s got three of them pumping your tiny elven cunt – prepping you for his much meatier orc-cock.

You’re held easily on his lap, seated sideways and pretty. His drool runs down your chest and belly, and you’re soaked in your own sweat after cumming for the umpteenth time. Still, you squirm when he finally dabs your puffy cunt with the sturdy meat. When it stands between your thighs, the plush cockhead reaches high enough to get cozy between your breasts, and you can already feel it punching your ribs and rearranging your organs.

You always break, trying to fling yourself off and run away despite the collar sitting around your throat with a chain trail leading to the bed.

You’re never able to get out of his grip anyway. He pulls your hair back, making your head hang backward, chest arched up – it’s an awful position, leaving you no option but to thrash – unable to see what’s going on or how to prepare for it.

He picks up your thigh and holds you up in the air by it alone, using you like a ragdoll as he spreads you wide. Huffing out impatient grunts at the numerous failed attempts of pressing his raging cock-head inside you, always slipping through your slit and rubbing off on your clit. He grows angry rather quickly, growling until your hole finally gets sloppy enough to allow the very tip to find footing – just enough to let him knead the entire bulb inside you and slowly sink inch after fat inch all the way up until you choke on it.

Stuffed so fair-tight with a big bulge in your poor belly. You squeeze on it with a cry – your whole body reacting to it, contorting while it settles deep within you. Knees lifting and bending with thighs winding shut, curled toes, and fingers making tight fists.

He’s kind enough to let you roost on it for a bit before moving.

Standing up, he lays your back against the plush bed, still warm from where he’d just been sitting – and wraps a hand around both your ankles, holding them up – placing the other on the dome of your ass, hooking a thumb over your hipbone.

Most of you is still in the air – making so much blood pool in your head. Going dizzy and breathless once he sets the pace, dragging himself out of your tight walls – beyond content feeling your tight cunt squeeze on him as though begging him to stay inside.

You make the cutest sounds – makes his balls clamp up as they swing and softly clap against your back while he slowly lolls his entire length back inside your warmth.

Once your hole surrenders more to his size, he’ll lay your legs to rest against his chest and mirror the placement of his other hand – both now grabbing each of your buttcheeks – starting to fuck your womb tightly.

He loves elven pussy – especially yours – so sweet and juicy, cumming on him every few minutes – milking him for his cream.

You get a fever once he finally cums – pumping it all inside you, unloading for a full minute or two, leaving you gasping and panting with broken moans cut with cries – feeling it seep out around the edges of where he has you stuffed, running down your ass and spine, dribbling down his balls and hitting the floor in fat drops that give a sounding thud.

He waits until his cock is sluggish before sloshing out. 

Everything is a sticky mess, but he cares little for cleaning up – staggering over the bed and immediately falling into a snoring sleep with you tucked under his heavy arm.

After all, he has to make sure everyone knows who you belong to – not only by keeping you collared with his crest but by making sure you smell ripely so – scented from head to toe with his jizz and urine.

BNHA – Enji, Bakugou, Kirishima, Deku, Muscular, Gigantomachia

JJK – Toji, Sukuna, Nanami, Kenjaku

AOT – Erwin, Reiner, Zeke

HxH – Uvogin

[tathrin]

A Gimleaf Thought:

Dwarves for whom their braids are a huge aspect of their identity and presentation, and which are consequently considered Not Appropriate to touch casually unless you are on very intimate terms. Stroking a dwarf's beard-braid in public in more than the lightest and most fleeting of touches would honestly be more inappropriate than just reaching down and grabbing their cock, it's on that level of intimacy, right?

Elves whose ears are extremely sensitive, not just in the keenness of their hearing but in terms of touch, too. (Yes, Viggo, this one is for you.) Throw in some social aspects of the importance of song to elvish life and spirits (this world was literally Sung into existence, remember, and the elves are very bound to this world and its Song) and you end up with a similar situation, where touching an elf's ears is like the most intimate gesture ever. Not something you would do casually, or to anyone you weren't on like...imminent-betrothal-level terms with at least. With me so far?

Well: Gimli does not know this about elves. Legolas does not know this about dwarves.

The first time Legolas starts toying with Gimli's beard, it's as much idle curiosity as anything: elves like pretty hair, and pretty braids, and Gimli's beard is very pretty. (And he asked Galadriel for her hair! and got three strands! so clearly Talking About Pretty Hair is something they can both appreciate, and thus bond over!) Gimli goes BEET red not that Legolas notices because he hasn't figured out that only elves blush with their ears yet but is too shocked to muster even a token protest, and by the time he remembers how to breathe it's too late, Legolas has already been talking for ten minutes about how nice Gimli's hair is and can he teach him some of those braids they look neat...? and Gimli can't possibly bark at him to stop touching them now, can he? That would be rude. And anyway, Legolas clearly has no idea what fondling a dwarf's beard implies, and there are no other dwarves around to see him now, so it's harmless. It means nothing. Nothing.

Meanwhile the first time Gimli touches Legolas's ears, it's to flick one of them in jest as he teases him for being able to hear a butterfly yawn from forty leagues, you silly creature! Legolas also flushes, dark enough that his brown ears look like they've been dipped in some of his father's favorite wine, but he's never been that good at saying things delicately anyway, and he doesn't want to rebuff the dwarf when Gimli clearly has no idea the implications of what he's just done or the fact that Legolas is shivering all the way from the tips of those ears down to his toes right now and it would be rude to explain now, when Gimli has already moved on to his next clever jest, so Legolas just blushes and lets it go, it's not like Gimli will be able to reach his ears often so he doesn't need to worry about it...

Only somehow they seem to keep finding spots where the road dips and curves, or there's rubble to sit on, and then the mines are just full of broken stones at convenient heights; and then they end up in a boat together, where Gimli can absolutely reach them; and well at least they're not in Lórien now so nobody is around who will know what that means, so Legolas doesn't have to avoid his hands anymore; and then they end up on a horse together, and his ears are even more easy to reach now; and then they're resting on the wall of the Hornburg waiting for the orcs to come and it's very comforting, actually, to have Gimli's hands stroking his ears like that, callused yes but so soft and gentle; and by the time they get to Gondor it's far too ingrained a habit to stop...not that Legolas wants him to.

Meanwhile, of course, Aragorn and Gandalf know EXACTLY what both braids and ears mean to both dwarves and elves, and they spend weeks gossiping together in quiet Quenya about it, and taking bets on what will happen when one or the other one of them cottons-on to what that means to the other one, and who will find out what first, etc etc.

(When Gandalf meets the Three Hunters again in Fangorn, the state of those bets is one of the first thing he asks Aragorn to fill him in on during the ride to Edoras because all wizards are gossip queens.)

And then the Grey Company shows up, with Elladan and Elrohir, and Legolas watches his whole long life flash before his eyes when Gimli reaches up to give his ear a caress—a friendly and completely platonic caress of course, it's not like he knows what that gesture means, he couldn't possibly have figured it out and be doing it on purpose now, don't be absurd you silly elf—right where they can see it!

Gimli suffers much the same experience when over the campfire that night Halbarad casually mentions all the dwarves he's befriended during his time as a Ranger, why Gimli he even knew your dad back when you were all living in the Blue Mountains, nice to see you've gotten your journeyman braid I bet that made Glóin very proud...

Gimli goes as red as Legolas's ears, and then as pale as Saruman's robes. Aragorn silently curses that Gandalf isn't here to see what comes next (he is going to gripe so hard when he finds out he missed the big reveal!) and holds his breath, waiting to discover who's about to win (and lose) all those bets...

[echoessilencepatienceandgrace]

✨The First Talon and The Little Crow ✨

Lucanis is not the step father BUT the father that stepped up✨

Lucanis poured himself another cup of coffee, breathing in the aroma with a smile. He placed it on the table, pushing some of his yarn out of the way to make room. He sat back down, grabbed his knitting needles and resumed his stitching.

It was quiet in the dining hall, peaceful even as he listened to the fireplace snap behind him. He focused on his stitches, the butterflies finally starting taking shape on Amalia’s sweater. He checked with Thea to make sure he had all of her favorites and did his best to add each of them to the sweater.

His focus was broken as the main doors of the hall opened. His eyes were up, waiting to see who his guest was.

A tiny head of curls in a oversized crow cape peered into the hall, quickly making sure the coast was clear. She tiptoed in slowly, doing her best not to make a sound. She hadn’t noticed Lucanis just yet, far too focused on her sneaking.

Lucanis sat still, watching Amalia walk exactly as he showed her, silent as she slipped between the shadows. She snuck around the furniture slowly making her way over to the cabinets where her favorite cookies lay under lock and key.

Lucanis playfully rolled his eyes once he realized where the four year old was heading.

She let out a tiny giggle to herself as she stood in front of her target, standing on her tip toes to reach the lid of the jar. Lucanis stood without a sound, sneaking behind her with his hands on his hips.

“Ahem.”

Amalia let out a scream, letting go of the lid. She turned to see Lucanis, covering her mouth as she giggled.

“Amalia, where does your mother think you are right now?”

“Sleeping.” The little elf giggled.

“So where should you be?”

“In bed.” Amalia frowned. “But I couldn’t sleep! I was having bad dreams.” She stomped her tiny foot in frustration.

“Nightmares are no fun.” He sighed.

“It really scared me and ama was sleepy so…”

“Ahh…so you decided to steal some cookies.” Lucanis smiled warmly.

“And to practice my sneaking!” She said proudly.

“Where the cookies your target?” He smirked.

“Yes! Well… no. I just really wanted one.” She sighed.

Lucanis smiled, tilting his head.

“How about some breakfast first, and then maybe a cookie later?”

Amalia let out a dramatic sigh, reluctantly shaking her head yes. Lucanis smiled, making his way to the stove. Within minutes, he had her little plate full of her favorites: strawberries, bacon and waffles, along with some water in her tiny cup. He made a plate for himself and then one for Thea, setting hers aside for later. The two ate in silence, with every bite a smile appeared on Amalia’s face, warming Lucanis’ heart.

“Your sneaking was good today Amalia, you are doing a great job.” Lucanis smiled, taking a sip of his coffee. "Less giggling though next time."

"But I like to giggle!"

"I know, but when you are sneaking, you should be as silent as a mouse. Remember what I told you?" Lucanis smiled.

"Yesssss yesss I remember. One for silence." Amalia sighed, resting her head on her hand.

Lucanis let out a small laugh, leaning back in his chair. Amalia finished the last of her food, leaning back just like he did. She let out a little yawn, her eyelids fluttering closed as she sighed.

"We should get you back, I don't want your mother to think you're missing." Lucanis tilted his head with a soft smile.

"Oh, ama probably thinks I’m hiding. She doesn’t like it.” Amalia sighed.

Lucanis let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You should never hide from her.” Lucanis smiled. His looked to the mess of yarn and needles on the table, along with Amalia's unfinished sweater. His eyes darted to the other sweater he finished folded neatly, looking back to the four year old.

“Speaking of your mother-do you think she’ll like this?” He asked, grabbing the sweater.

Amalia’s eyes went wide as she squealed in excitement.

“Did you make this for her?” She gasped, running her little hands over the stitched golden suns and stars.

“I did.” Lucanis said proudly.

“Red is her favorite!! She’s gonna love it!” Amalia squealed. “She loves everything you do.” She said nonchalantly, kicking her legs as she took a sip of water.

Lucanis let out a laugh, folding the sweater back up.

“Really? What’s her favorite?”

Amalia’s eyebrows furrowed, tilting her head to the side as she thought long and hard.

“Hmmm… she smiles really big when you bring her that orange cup.” She said, pointing to the coffee station.

Lucanis could feel his heart beating faster. It was his favorite part of the day: Venturing into the Lighthouse to see Thea when the rest of the world was quiet, all to bring her a fresh cup of coffee and spending time with her.

"Well, let's not keep her waiting, I have a coffee to deliver." Lucanis smirked.

He stood, grabbing their plates and clearing off the table. Amalia followed, climbing up her wooden step stool to help him put everything away. She reached over, tapping him on the arm.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

"Oh yeah! Thank you for my breakfast!" Amalia smiled up at him.

Lucanis could feel his heart burst as he smiled at her.

"Of course, Amalia." he smiled. “Cooking for you and your mother makes me happy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

She giggled, climbing off her stool to grab her water. Lucanis watched her with a smile, drying his hands off. He poured two cups of coffee, adding sugar and cream to the orange mug before grabbing the red sweater.

“Ready to go?” Amalia asked.

“Yes!” Lucanis smiled. “Lead the way, Amalia.”

She hopped off the chair, water in hand as she ran for the door, her crow cape trailing behind her. Lucanis followed right behind her, his heart beating faster with every step closer to seeing Thea.

He couldn’t believe the happiness blooming in his chest, that he had two beacons of light to brighten the darkness surrounding him, bringing peace to him-and to Spite.

He could feel the demon lingering in the corner of his eye, hearing his voice echo:

“The little crow. Thea. Sunlight. Must keep. Them both. Safe.”

Lucanis knew he was right. He had lost so much, he couldn’t lose them either. But for now, he allowed himself to slip into the safety of their warmth, feeling happier than he had before ✨

[midnight-mourning]

Holiday Party

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 31❄️❄️

We did it! 31 requests in 31 days. My goodness. And what a fun one to cap us off too. I was hoping for a holiday party one as i had a few ideas in mind, hope you all enjoy and also, be on the look out for one more thing sometime tonight :)

Prompt: Christmas party at the plex, bonus for mistletoe shenanigans, andddd moon has a Santa hat lmao I can ask her for more details if you need!! ^^

Word Count: 1726

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"Sun! You have to hold still!" You laugh as he fidgets again. "You're going to end up ripping it and we don't have time to get a new one. 

You're attempting to help him put on a Christmas sweater, working against the laws of physics to get the thin neck around his too-big head. You're almost there, but he keeps moving around, as he always does when he's really excited like this. 

His rays pop out just a tad before they react again, voice slightly muffled by the sweater. "I know, I know! I'm sorry, I can't help it, Sunshine!"

"We're almost there, just a little more... there!" The sweater finally makes it over his head, and you see his smiling face once more. 

He jumps up, and adjust the sweater a little before standing proud, hands on his hips. "Well, how do I look?"

"Oh, very handsome." You put a hand to your chest. "The green really matches your eyes."

"Why thank you~" He says, and you both giggle. 

You look around for the antlers, snatching them up and handing them to him. "It's a bummer Moon won't let you wear the nose."

"You know him, always a downer." Sun fixes the headband on his head, you'd made it just for him so that it'd fit well. "At least he's wearing the hat."

You look around for your bag, grabbing it and slinging it onto your shoulder. "Very true, he'll look out of place if he doesn't."

There was a Christmas party tonight at the Plex, and anyone and everyone was going. That included yourself, the Daycare Attendant, and the other animatronics. It was going to be a night filled with fun and good times, and you were more than excited about it. Especially since this was your first holiday season with Sun & Moon as your partners.

"Ready to go?" You ask, as Sun makes the final adjustments to his head gear. 

"Just one thing left!" He bends down to your level, and out of nowhere, pulls out another pair of antlers, situating them on your head. "There! Now we match."

You giggle, and stand on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss. "Thank you. Now come on! We're going to end up being late, and we'll never hear the end of it from Freddy, bless his heart."

Sun's rays flutter and he nods quickly, grabbing your hand and taking the lead as you exit the Daycare. 

The entire Plex is decorated to the nines in decorations, but not in a tacky, corporate way like you'd expect. It's festive, but not overbearing. You can't help but admire it as you walk through. 

When you arrive to the West arcade, you find it's just the same, all sorts of wreaths, tinsel, and more are strung up all along the walls and railings. There's a massive tree situated next to the DJ, who grooves along to holiday music, he's also dressed up. A stovetop hat on his head and a giant fake corncob pip in between his teeth. You wonder who helped him with that one. 

You see the other animatronics are all dressed up as different holiday characters too. Freddy is playing the part of Santa, Chica's an elf, Monty makes you laugh with his Grinch costume, and Roxy looks fabulous as the Sugar Plum Fairy. They too, express disappointment that Sun's missing his red nose, but compliment your outfits nonetheless. 

The night proceeds exactly as you expect. You chat and catch up with coworkers you haven't seen in a while—ones you worked closely with prior to the Daycare—and Sun visits with his friends. You dance and sing along to different Christmas songs, DJ Music Man even dims the lights every so often so Moon is able to participate too. He gets many compliments on his red hat, and he merely mumbles 'thank you' in response. 

"It's true, it suits you well." You comment as another person walks by. 

The two of you are slow dancing to an older song, one you can't think of the name of currently. 

Moon tsks, looking down to you. "I'd believe you better if you weren't smiling so much, Star."

"It's true!" You laugh as he spins you. "You know I wouldn't lie to you."

He hums. "I suppose that's true. You're a terrible liar."

"Hey now, it's Christmas, be a little more considerate, yeah?"

Moon dips you, leaning in so your foreheads touch. "Considerate of what? Your bad lying skills or your feelings?"

"Both you jerk!" You swat at him as he chuckles. 

The sound of giggling a bit behind you, beyond the edge of the dancefloor distracts him momentarily, looking away from you. 

"What's that they're doing over there?"

You tilt your head back to look, and you see an upside down couple kissing under mistletoe that one of them is holding up, your heart drops to your stomach. Oh no. 

You swallow, looking upright again with a sheepish smile. "Well, funnily enough, you know that 'me being a terrible liar' thing we were just talking about?" You laugh nervously as his eyes narrow. "I uh, may have been doing a better job than you think."

It hadn't meant to happen, rather, it was a slip up that you just never corrected. Mainly, because you knew if either Sun or Moon knew what mistletoe stood for in relation to Christmas, they may go a bit, wild with it, to put it lightly. So, you just, never told them what it represented, skirting around the topic and saying something like 'it's just something you put up for the holidays'. 

You'd done this in the hopes that one day you could bring it up causally—preferably long after Christmas so they couldn't retaliate—and things would be much easier on you. 

Now though, you've been caught, and you quickly realize they're not going to let you off easy with this one. Your face and ears burn as you mumble out your explanation, and before you've even finished Moon is marching you over to the couple, politely asks them where they found the dubious little herb, and drags you along to retrieve his own. 

Once he does, you're forced to sit at a nearby table, in a quiet corner of the party, and are subjected to several kisses. Then, once you think it's over and you're free. Moon walks over to DJ Music Man, and to your horror you realize he's asking the bot to turn up the lights. 

Moon's expression is cat-like as he wiggles his fingers goodbye to you, Sun appearing in his place. He takes a moment to reapply his antlers, then whips to face you, eyes nothing but devious crescents as he waves cheerfully to you, walking back. 

"Oh lord I'm not strong enough for this." Your head goes into the table, feeling completely and utterly embarrassed. You're thankful now that someone spiked the eggnog, meaning no one is really paying attention to your little table in the corner. 

Unfortunately for you, not everyone at this party has the ability to drink eggnog, liquor-infused or not. 

There's a clink as something is set down on the table in front of you. A glass of punch you realize. You look up and to your right and see Chica's standing there, whistling as she glances to the side. 

She glances over at you briefly. "Thought you could use something to cool you down. Your internal temperature is reading as feverish, hot stuff. There's nothing in it, I didn't think you'd want that."

"You'd be right." You snatch up the drink, downing it in one go. You gasp when you finish, wiping your mouth. "Thank you."

She winks. "Anytime. Now go get 'em tiger! Freddy can only distract him for so long."

Your face starts burning again, and turning back you see that Sun is indeed currently talking to Freddy. He's still got the friendly demeanor he always has, but you can see how impatiently he's tapping his foot. Based on how happy Freddy is, you're guessing he has absolutely no idea he was sent as sabotage. 

"Right. Thank you." You stand up suddenly, chair squeaking as you do. Chica laughs, clapping you on the back before you walk off. 

When Sun sees you approach, he snatches up his opportunity. "Ah, there they are! Sorry to cut things short, Freddy, but I was promised another dance."

"Of course! No worries my friend." Freddy waves as Sun starts to lead you away again, barely able to say goodbye. "Have fun you two!"

Sun turns to call back to him. "Don't worry! We will." 

You gulp. 

As opposed to another private corner, Sun leads you up one of the staff stairwells. You're going up to the catwalks, you realize as you step out onto the platform, high above the party. It's a little quieter up here, but still just as lovely. You walk out to roughly the middle, Sun sitting down with you facing him in his lap after a moment. 

"This is, um, quite the scenery change." You say, glancing around. 

Sun tilts his head, tone as mischievous as ever. "I thought the change would be good, since it's not as easy to hide away. And you do seem oh so flustered."

"That's so not fair." You say as he kisses you. "This is exactly why I didn't tell you! I knew this was going to be the result."

Another kiss. "You don't seem to be complaining."

"Well no, I'm benefiting from it a great deal. Complaining is the antithesis of what I want currently."

Sun laughs at that, and you do as well, wrapping your arms around his neck as you initiate a kiss this time. 

"I've had a lot of fun tonight, you know. I'm glad we got to do this."

Sun's arms wraps around your back, encircling you in a warm hug. "We are too. I love you, Sunshine. Merry Christmas."

"I love you too." A kiss to his cheek. "Both of you. Merry Christmas."

You spend a large remainder of the rest of the party in each other's arms. And you would have gotten away with it too, had you not forgotten to wipe Sun's faceplate off, covered in bright red kisses marks from the lip gloss you'd worn. 

Totally worth it. 

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Thank you for the request @ccccaptain-clownyyy!! As i said i was hoping for a holiday party one, glad I got to do it to finish us out :)

Thanks for reading!

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