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4unnyr0se · 5 months ago

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PLS BOKUTO SMUT I WILL SELL YOU MY SOUL VIV 🙏🙏🙏

❥ nepenthe | kotaro bokuto

warnings: timeskip! bokuto, fem! reader, mutual pining, bokuto is emo in the beginning, dry humping/grinding, multiple orgasms, making out, incredibly lewd dialogue, fingering, missionary, two text messages, unprotected sex, tiny corruption kink, possessive! bokuto if u squint, extreme fluff at the end, bokuto is a semi-hard dom in bed, atsumu, hinata and sakusa mentioned, not proofread (unless u count grammarly)

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.3k (lol)

opal i would write anything for u i love u sm

got a request? asks are open!

Being on the MSBY Black Jackals was all the Bokuto could ever dream of. Playing on a team made up of his peers, the adoring cheers from the crowd filled his ears and boosted his ego. He especially loved how cute the girls in the stands were and how they wore merchandized versions of his jersey. People paid good money to watch him play, him. Was there nothing better than the universe could offer him? Indeed, Kotaro Bokuto’s life was perfectly perfect.

Except until recently. He had missed a significant spike in the latest game against the Alders, which nearly cost him the match. He was not okay. But that was just a first-time thing, right? Indeed, he would not miss a spike in tomorrow’s practice. He’s Bokuto; he doesn’t miss spikes. And then he missed nearly all of his spikes. He was not doing well when he returned to his penthouse apartment that evening. Was he in a slump?

His golden eyes flicked back and forth on his ceiling as he lay in his plush bed, hands crossed over his chest in thought. Why was he acting like this? He occasionally missed a spike, but that was a rare event. Was he missing them so frequently? What if he wasn’t as good of a volleyball player as he thought? Anxiety plagued his mind, making him toss and turn in his cotton comforter decorated with owls (stylish owls, of course). Bokuto’s black and white hair became incredibly messy, reflecting his inner thoughts. Luckily, he had a means of comforting himself. When the opposite hitter wasn’t doing so well at times like these, he could always turn to you, one of his beloved Black Jackal Managers.

You were the kindest of all the managers he had, that was for sure. While the other seven managers focused on scheduling or payroll, you were the personality hire. Your pretty face automatically boosted the morale of the entire team, like a beam of sunlight poking out from the clouds after a thunderstorm. Bokuto liked you; he really liked you. Every single practice, he would pray that you’d be there, sitting on your chair, diligently taking notes while wearing that MSBY windbreaker that covered the curves of your breasts in the most annoying manner possible. Fuck, you were so damn pretty.

Bokuto reached for his phone, which was charging on the bedside table, scrolling through his messages until he landed on your chat from a couple of weeks ago. The topic was simple: What kind of onigiri did he want from Onigiri Miya? It was just a question, but the notification made his heart race every time he read it. The pads of his thumbs hovered over the keypad for a moment, unsure of how to word his message. He wanted you to visit him. Why couldn’t he just type that? After minutes of contemplation, he had sent his message. Bokuto’s phone was thrown to the other side of the bed, nearly getting lost in the mess of thick duvet. The opposite hitter slammed his face into his fluffed pillow, groaning into the fabric.

Kotaro Bokuto: Wanna come over and talk? Been feeling really down recently. :(

It felt like hours since he sent the text, looking at where he tossed his phone every other minute to see if the home screen lit up. Finally, after agonizingly painful minutes passed, his screen lit up with your message, the cute little heart icon next to your name making him break out in a crooked smile.

Cute Manager: I’ll be over in 30 minutes. Bringing my famous sugar cookies! They always brighten someone’s day <3

Bokuto practically threw himself off his bed, looking around his messy apartment. Shit, had that smell always been there? Why (and how) was there a sock on the ceiling fan? Don’t even get him started on the empty packages that littered his living room floor; this was a disaster. He had to ensure it was perfect for you, his angelic manager. You thought so highly of him; he wasn’t about to lose that due to a messy apartment.

He cleaned like a man gone wild, sensual R&B music playing from a speaker in his kitchen. He had obtained three full trash bags and one spilling-over hamper, but he had made his apartment look presentable. The counters were no longer sticky, and the sock was down from the fan, thanks to him expertly flinging rubber bands at the blades. Bokuto was proud of himself, bearing a satisfied smirk while his hands rested on his hips in a hero pose.

The doorbell rang. Oh fuck, how were you here already? Did half an hour seriously pass by so quickly? He didn’t even have time to change out of his black tank top! Maybe that was a good thing? Perhaps you liked looking at his massive biceps. Whatever, he didn’t have time to think about all that. His cute manager was waiting behind that door with a plate of delicious sugar cookies!

Bokuto swung the door open a little too enthusiastically, his crooked smile fully displayed amongst his handsome features. His golden eyes instantly landed on your figure, drinking in your outfit. A low-cut black scoop neck top with oversized ripped jeans; fucking perfection. You offered him a kind smile and held out the wrapped-up plate of cookies, tilting your head to the side. “Hey, Bokuto! I’m here, like I promised. Oh, and I brought the cookies. Don’t ask for the recipe because I won’t tell!” you giggled, stepping inside his apartment. It was cleaner than you imagined, and it smelled like roses. Who knew that Bokuto could be so neat?

“Woah, it’s even bigger than I imagined! Sometimes I forget how much professional athletes make annually,” you joked, kicking off your ballet flats on the shoe stand. “You must have an amazing view at night, look at the city! It’s gorgeous.” you turned to Bokuto and smiled, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s been a while since we last hung out, hasn’t it?”

“Oh, yeah! I guess it has, eh? Time flies when you’re a Black Jackal!” Bokuto awkwardly stammered, growing increasingly flustered as the almond shape of your manicured nails made contact with his muscular shoulders. “Thanks for coming over so quickly; I thought you were at a club or something.”

You shook your head and leaned against the raised kitchen counter, raising an eyebrow. “Nah, I hate clubs. It’s always so stuffy in there, and there’s always a hand on your ass, whether you want it or not.” you brushed your hair to the side, exposing your neck. The perfume you had to carefully put on, a mixture of lilac and jasmine, filled Bokuto’s nostrils. He was only a few feet from your body, yet the aroma drove him secretly insane. “What about you, do you like clubs? You seem like the type.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bokuto asked, pretending to clutch his pearls.

“Well, you’re extroverted and love having a good time. That’s what the clubs are for, aren’t they?” you paused your speech, matching his gaze with your own. “But you haven’t been having a good time recently, have you?”

Bokuto shook his head and slumped onto the sofa, his bottom lip curling into a childish pout. “No, you’re right. I just can’t hit my stupid spikes! Atsumu’s been on my ass about it like it’s my fault that I can’t seem to hit them! I mean, I guess it’s my fault…whatever! I don’t know what I’m saying anymore!” he slammed his face in his hands, groaning in exasperation.

You smiled softly and sat next to him, patting his muscular back. “Hey, it’ll be alright. You’ve hit amazing spikes before, and you’ll hit amazing spikes again. I know you will.” your soft hands ran up and down the thin fabric of his tank top, massaging the tense muscles underneath. “We all have our slumps, you know. Nobody is perfect, not even Atsumu. Besides,” your lips were centimeters away from his ear. “Atsumu is my least favorite.”

Bokuto chuckled and wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing your cheek against his pectoral. “Yeah, but he’s really funny! Except when he texts the group chat with me, Shoyo, and Sakusa…then he gets really gross. Usually about the women he slept with or something.”

“Ew,” you blush softly as Bokuto's muscular bicep wraps around your waist, his large hand squeezing the fabric of your jeans. “So, are you feeling any better now? Do you wanna eat a cookie and watch a movie, maybe? What would make you feel better?” you could feel his heartbreak in his chest, the thumbing sensation of the organ being a somewhat calming presence. “Because when you’re sad, the Jackals can’t really get anything done. No offense.”

Bokuto chuckled and squeezed you closer, inhaling the scent of your shampoo. God, you smelled fucking amazing. Did you always smell so good? “I’m down for a movie if you’re down. What kind of movie were you thinking of?”

“Comedy, maybe? I don’t know, you can pick,” you replied.

“Comedy it is,” Bokuto leaned forward to grab the remote from the coffee table, turning on the massive television he owned. His hand remained firmly grasped on your waist, occasionally running his thumb up and down the denim of your high-waisted jeans. He flicked through a couple of films under the comedy section in his DVR until he selected a random one. He chose it solely on how fantastic the movie poster was, naturally.

The opening credits played from the surround sound speakers, and his hand was still snug on your waist, his golden eyes occasionally stealing a chaste look. You were smaller than him, so he really only got to see the top of your head, but you were so fucking adorable. Bokuto thought it was vital that you didn’t push him away after he wrapped his arm around you and that you welcomed his touch. You trusted him so much, making his heart beat a million miles a minute.

The movie's beginning was hilarious, as expected from an award-winning comedy. Bokuto’s laugh was deep in comparison to yours. Of course, your laugh was adorable; why wouldn’t it be? He felt as though his heart would explode from your presence, beating erratically in his chest.

“Are you feeling okay? Your heart is beating really fast,” you questioned, lifting your face from its comfortable resting spot on his chest. “Do you need anything at all?”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip, unsure of what to say. Should he just confess how much he wants you, how much he craves to have your lips on his own? What if you rejected his advances and quit managing the team? “Uh, it’s nothing. Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Sweetheart, did he really just say that? Bokuto cringed at himself.

A small smile graced your delicate features at the endearing name, your tiny hand resting on his chest. “Bokuto, I’m always going to worry about my team. Especially you, you’re my favorite. Did you know that?”

His mind went blank for a second. He was your favorite. He was your favorite. Out of all the members of the Black Jackals, you liked him the most. “I-I didn’t know that at all, am I actually your favorite? You aren’t messing with me or anything?”

“Why would I lie about that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s just…you’re beautiful. And I’m your favorite…it makes me feel special. I know I’m already special, just like, more special. Y’know?”

“You think I’m beautiful?” your eyes bore into his once more, the chatter from the movie falling on deaf ears. “You really think I’m beautiful?”

Bokuto softly smiled at you, adoring how the light from the television illuminated your blushing face. “Yeah, I really think so. I’ve thought that for a while since you were hired.” his other hand cupped the right side of your face, his calloused thumb running across your cheekbone. “Do you…do you think I’m pretty, too?”

You giggled and rested your hand on Bokuto’s, smiling brightly. “Yeah, I think you’re beautiful, Bokuto. And handsome and adorable.” you leaned upwards, your noses touching. “You’re funny, kind, and sometimes a little too confident. You’re sensitive, and you care so much about your teammates. Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

“I want you to have me,” he whispered, his voice a low baritone. “Please, I’ve wanted this for so long. Tell me that I can have you, even if it’s just for tonight.” his lips hovered over yours, not daring to do anything without your permission. “Because if you say it’s okay, I don’t think I’ll be able to hold myself back, sweetness.”

His hot breath tickled the tiny hairs on your face, mouth slightly agape. You gulped and nodded, closing your eyes while his hands cupped your cheeks. “It’s okay, Kotaro.”

The sound of his given name falling from your lips was all he needed to press his mouth to yours in a searing kiss filled with unfulfilled desires. It was slow and sensual, yet it held so much molten passion. His lips molded with yours so perfectly, the taste of your chapstick making him savor you even more. His hands fled your face and grasped onto your hips, pulling you into his lap with no trouble at all. Bokuto pressed your chest against his own, groaning against your petal-like lips. A spark was set in his lower belly, his hands trailing down to your ass. He squeezed the denim fabric, eliciting an adorable squeak from your mouth.

You pulled away after a moment, both of your faces incredibly flushed. “Shit,” Bokuto breathed out, toying with the hem of your jeans. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that, sweetness.”

“Me too,” you whispered, kissing his neck gently. “I’ve been wanting to do this,” you placed another kiss, then another, and another. “For so fucking long.” you nibbled onto his collarbone playfully, earning yourself a beautiful moan from Bokuto’s bruised lips.

“Fuck, I never pegged you for a biter. Thought I would always be the one biting you,” he purred, slipping his hands underneath your jeans and panties. You gasped at the coldness of his hands on your warm skin, how his fingers kneaded the supple flesh of your ass. “But I guess I can let you nibble on me for a little longer since you’re so damn pretty.”

“When did you get so good at flirting, hm?” you began to suckle on his collarbone.

“The moment I got signed to the Black Jackals. They’re, fuck, they’re a bunch of womanizers.” he softly moaned at the sensation of your teeth suckling at his tough flesh. “Taught me a thing or two.”

You pulled away from his neck and smiled, kissing his forehead. “So I take it you picked up a thing or two?”

“Damn right, I have,” his hands squeezed your ass once more. “Can you do me a favor and take these off, sweetness? I’ll take mine off, too. That way, we’re even.”

You got off his lap and shimmied out of your jeans, tossing them aside along with your top. You wore a matching bra and panty set, the black fabric hugging your curves tenderly. “Now, you do yours. Don’t keep me waiting, Ko’.”

His nickname rang in his ears, your voice making it drip like honey. Bokutp practically ripped off his clothes, leaving him in only his MSBY boxers. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.” he leaned into the leather couch, spreading his legs. “C’mere gorgeous, sit on my lap.”

Bokuto’s hands once again cupped your ass as you straddled his lap, admiring how thick his thighs were. You had never noticed it before, but Bokuto was a big guy. “That’s it, good girl. Right on my thigh there, pretty.”

“Fuck,” you moaned as your clothed pussy made contact with his bare thigh, unconsciously rubbing against it. “You’re really fucking sexy.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Bokuto pulled you into another kiss, aggressively slamming his lips against yours while his hands remained glued to your ass. His tongue prodded against your lips impatiently, begging to be let inside your mouth. You happily obliged, a mewl falling from your lips as his tongue briefly danced with yours. Bokuto pulled away, breaking the strand of saliva that connected your lips. “Your voice is too damn pretty,” his hand cracked against your ass, causing you to grind further onto his thigh. Embarrassed, you hid your face in his bruised neck, earning a smug smirk from Bokuto. “Oh, did that feel good, baby? Don’t be shy now; you can tell me.” he smacked your ass once more, relishing in your pleasurable squeaks and squeals. “Does someone like it when I smack their ass?”

“Y-yeah!” you whimpered into his neck, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. Your hips bucked against his thigh, your core desperate for friction. “Please, lemme ride your thigh. You feel so fucking good, Ko’.”

Bokuto threw his head back at your begging, his cock growing painfully hard in his boxers. “Yeah, you wanna grind on my thigh, pretty girl?” he squeezed the plushness of your thigh. “I’m the only one who can make you feel this way, right? Because I’m the best. Say it, and you can do whatever you want.”

You let out a broken sigh and pulled your face out from his neck, your pearly whites nibbling at the shell of his ear. “You’re the only one who can make me feel this good, Kotaro.” Your breath was sweet and sensual, and you were full of wanting for your release. “Please, I wanna ride your thigh.”

“Good girl,” he praised, gripping onto your hips. He began to drag you up and down his thigh, embracing the cute little noises you made. “That’s it, baby, talk to me. Tell me how good I make you feel, yeah?”

“So good! So good, Ko’.” you whimpered, a warmth sensation bubbling up inside your belly as your clothed clit rubbed against his thigh. Your small hands rested on his abs, running up and down the prevalent muscle. “T-talk to me, helps me get off–fuck!” you tossed your head back, hair falling out of your face as Bokuto purposefully flexed his thigh muscle.

He groaned at the sight of you, head thrown back, tits bouncing in your bra as you used his thigh to get yourself off. His goddess of a manager was using him to cum, his thigh. It was so fucking perfect. “You’re so fucking sexy, you know that? You come to practice in those short shorts that show off your ass so well. Do you know what you do to me?”

“Tell me,” you moaned, feeling your climax approach quickly. You were basically rutting yourself against his thigh like a bitch in heat, and it felt fucking incredible.

“Every time you bent over, I thought about this ass,” he smacked the exposed flesh, definitely leaving a handprint later. “Thought about squeezing it, about smacking it, how it would look wearing slutty black panties.” Bokuto flexed his thigh muscles even more, giving you a sturdier surface to grind on.

“Thought about you clawing at my back while I fuck you in the locker room, so the rest of the team can back the fuck off. Keep you all to myself, my pretty manager.” he spat through his teeth, gripping your jaw tightly with his hand. “Look at me when you cum, pretty girl. Wanna see that cute little face.” his thumb ran across your bottom lip, pulling slightly.

Your mouth went slack-jawed as your orgasm washed over you, your eyes struggling to look at Bokuto while you continued to ride his thigh until you came down from nirvana. “F-fuck!” you sobbed, your hips ceasing their bucking once your high was finished. “Shit, I made a mess on your thigh. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fucking apologize. That was the sexiest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” Bokuto groaned, lifting you off of his thigh so quickly. “Fuck, you soaked your panties. I guess you gotta take them off now, yeah? Bra, too. Don’t be shy around me.” he set you down on the coffee table, your form blocking the movie, but he didn’t care about the movie anymore. There was only you.

Still shaking from the shockwaves of your release, you slowly stripped yourself of your remaining clothes, placing them down on the glass of the table. Bokuto drank in your view, like an artist staring at a finished painting. You were gorgeous, ethereal, out of this world. Surely, it would be impossible for anyone else to match your beauty. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, pushing himself off of the couch to grab your wrist. “Bedroom. Now.”

He practically dragged you into his bedroom, throwing you down onto the plush owl-themed comforter. You giggled at the childish fabric as Bokuto hovered above you, his hands on either side of your head. “I take it you love owls?” you raised an eyebrow.

“I fucking love owls,” he smirked, leaning down to peck your nose. “Not as much as I love how you look right now, pretty girl.” his right hand squeezed your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple while his left hand managed to continue holding him up.

“You’re such a tease,” you moaned as he pinched your sensitive bud, his massive hand encasing your entire breast. “I thought you wanted to fuck me, Kotaro. Am I wrong?”

“You aren’t wrong, sweetness,” he purred, rolling his hips against yours. You could feel his cock pulsating through his boxers, begging to be inside you. “Just wanna make sure you’re prepped first. I’m a big guy, y’know?” he stuck his fingers inside of his mouth, coating them with saliva before prodding at your entrance with the digits, slowly sticking them inside your heat. “Holy fuck, you’re so fucking wet. Did my thigh make you cum that much, princess?”

You gasped as he curled his fingers deep inside of you, his ministrations slow and sensual. “Fuck! Y-yes, y’made me cum so much! Love your thighs, Ko’!” you squeaked, instinctively squeezing your thighs together.

Bokuto tutted and used his free hand to shove your legs apart, now kneeling above you. “Don’t try to hide it, sweetness. You know I don’t like that.” he was not knuckle-deep inside your weeping cunt, his fingers plunging inside so expertly. “Fuck, gotta make sure you’re nice and loose for me, yeah? Don’t wanna hurt you.”

“S-shit! You’re gonna make me cum again!” you whimpered, grasping onto your breasts for additional stimulation. “God, how do your fingers feel so fucking good?”

“Can’t answer that for you, sweetheart. You wanna cum again, pretty girl? Want me to rub your clit and make a mess all over my hand?” he teased, beginning to massage your sensitive clit with the pad of this thumb. His fingers were still scissoring you open, coating you with the mixture of his saliva and your release.

“Yes, fuck! Please, Ko’!” you whined, the familiar bubbling sensation in your belly threatening to spill over. Your legs were now dangling over his shoulder, quaking in ecstasy. “Wanna cum, fucking make me cum!”

“That’s what I like to hear,” he offered you a mischievous smirk, furiously rubbing his thumb over your clit as you tumbled into pure pleasure once more. Your mouth became agape; your head tossed into the plush pillow behind you. His fingers ceased their movement, sliding out of your cunt covered in your slick. “Shit,” Bokuto mumbled, bringing his fingers to his mouth. “Fucking delicious.”

He gave you another kiss, leaving some of your release on your lips. His boxers were peeled off and thrown onto the nightstand as he fumbled through one of the drawers, cursing at himself. “God dammnit, I know I have one. Where the fuck is it?”

“Looking for a condom?” you asked, the breath still being knocked out of your lungs.

“Yeah, it’s being a pain in the ass to find, though.”

“I’m on the pill.” you plainly state, smiling at him. “You don’t have to use a condom. It’ll be okay with me.”

Bokuto stopped rummaging through the drawer, turning over to look at you with a look that could only be a mixture of lust and absolute delight. “Are you sure? I-I mean, I’m happy to hit it raw; I just don’t wanna pressure you or anything.”

You nodded your head and pulled him close to you by his shoulder, pecking his nose sweetly. “I promise, Kotaro. You don’t have to use a condom when you’re with me.”

“God, that’s music to my fucking ears, baby,” his voice rumbled, his hands resting on the bottoms of your thighs. You were propped up by your elbows and Bokuto’s variety of pillows, his cock painfully hard against his abdomen. “Can’t wait to ruin this fucking pussy.”

You tilted your head to the side in confidence, winking. “Then what are you waiting for?” you spread your legs, exposing your glistening heat to him once more. “Ruin me, Kotaro.”

Bokuto bit down on his lower lip and growled, aligning his cock with your cunt. “You have no idea what you’re in for, pretty girl.” the mushroom head pushed past your folds, the newfound sensation causing the both of you to moan softly. “Shit, you’re still so tight. That’s okay,” he chuckled, snapping his hips against yours. His cock slammed inside of you, filling you up so quickly. “I’ll fucking make it fit.”

“Holy shit!” you sobbed, your fingers scrambling for purchase in the bedsheets. “Kotaro!”

“That’s it, baby, scream my name while I fuck this pussy stupid.” Bokuto hissed, pounding into you without giving you the chance to catch your breath. You looked so fucking pretty underneath him, especially the way your greedy pussy took him so well. The way your sobbing walls enveloped him entirely it was perfection. “Taking me so well, good fucking girl.”

Your pathetic mewls were like that of a morning songbird, the most beautiful melody. Bokuto hoisted your legs above his shoulders once again, his cock hitting you at a deeper angle. You screamed, the head prodding at your cervix. “Fuck, shit, oh my god! Kotaro, f-fuck!”

His thrusts were animalistic as if he were in heat. They were uncalculated and had no rhythm, only a mission to make you stupid on his cock. His hands gripped onto your ankles while he started at your lewd form, admiring how your small hands encased your breasts in an attempt to create more stimulation. How greedy you were. He thought it was adorable. Everything about you was simply adorable.

“Good fucking girl, that’s my girl,” he groaned as you squeezed around him, pulling him impossibly deep. “Oh, you like it when I call you that? Your pussy is sucking me in, pretty girl.” he teased, smacking the underside of your thigh.

You attempted to speak, but all that fell from your lips was incoherent babbling. Your mind was all fuzzy, full of nothing but thoughts of Bokuto fucking you senseless. You arched your back further into the mattress, your hair forming the messiest halo above you. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass filled the bedroom, the movie in the living room being a thing of the past.

“My pretty girl can’t speak now, but that’s okay,” Bokuto assured you, punctuating his sentences with a harsh slam inside of you. “I’ll just make you cum again, yeah? We’ll cum at the same time, okay, pretty girl? I know you got one more in you. Wanna give it to me? Don’t you think I deserve it? I wanna hear you say that. Say I deserve to make you cum again!”

“Fuck!” you sobbed, your orgasm dangerously close. You didn’t think you could handle one more, his cock bullying its way in and out of your weeping cunt. “Y’deserve to make me cum again, Kotaro! F-fuck, think I’m gonna cum soon!”

“Don’t fucking hold out on me, baby. You know I like it messy!” Bokuto bent forward, his thrusts becoming more erratic and needy as his cock twitched inside of you, begging for release. “Gonna fucking cum in this pussy, make it all fucking mine!”

“Shit!” you sobbed, tears welling up in the corners of your eyes. “Kotaro!” his name fell from your lips like a broken pair as you came for the third and final time that night, completely coating his cock in your glistening slick.

“Holy fuck, yeah, yeah! Fucking hell!” Bokuto roared, shooting ropes of cum deep inside your core, creating a new warm sensation in your belly. His thrusts grew slower and slower, almost as if he was attempting to fuck his cum inside of you. “Dont wanna…stop fucking you…but I’m tired.” he groaned, letting your legs fall back onto your chest. “Shit.”

Bokuto shamelessly collapsed onto you, purposely landing on your breast. He lifted his hips so his cock could slide out of you, almost with the thinnest streams of his release down your bruised thighs. “Mmm, that was so fucking good,” he mumbled against your breast, sucking on your pert nipple for a moment. “You got the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had.”

“You flatter me,” your hands ran through his damp black and white strands, acting as a comb. “You felt so fucking good, Kotaro. I’m glad I could help out. Do you think you’ll feel better at tomorrow's practice?”

Bokuto looked up from your breast and smiled brightly, cupping your flushed face with his hands. “I’m totally gonna kick everyone's ass! Atsumu won’t know what’ll hit him!”

“There’s the Bokuto we know and love!” you chuckle.

“I’m back, baby!” he weakly flexed his muscle, kissing your cheek playfully. “Guess all I needed was my sexy manager. Best damn cure on the planet!”

You rolled your eyes and kissed the top of his head. “You act completely different when you’re inside of me.”

“Is that a bad thing?” he titled his head.

“Absolutely not. I think it’s adorable. You’re adorable.” you kissed his cheek once more. “So, uh, is it possible for us to do this again sometime? I-it was nice.” your eyes landed on the floor, embarrassed for no reason.

Bokuto flashed you his signature crooked smile and laughed, kissing your neck. “What a stupid question. Of course, we can do this again! We basically confessed before I fucked you, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot.” you awkwardly chuckled, leaning into his enthusiastic kisses. “Maybe your dick knocked all the brains out of my skull.”

“But then you won’t have any more left when you watch us practice!” Bokuto whined, snuggling his face into your chest once more. “You gotta have some brain left, okay?”

“Okay, Kotaro,” you mumbled, your eyelids growing heavy. “Hey…it’s pretty late. Would it be okay if I slept here for the night? I understand if you don’t want me to.”

“Hell yeah, you can sleep here!” He cheered softly, running his hand up and down your arm. “That way, you can arrive with me to practice tomorrow. Then I can show off my new girlfriend to the team and make them all super jealous.”

You chuckled. “Oh, am I your girlfriend now?”

“Do…do you wanna be my girlfriend?” his voice was soft and unsure.

“Of course I do, cutie.” you pecked the top of his head, pulling up the owl-themed covers. “Now, get some sleep. You got a lot to do tomorrow, yeah?”

“Mm, okay, baby. I can’t wait to wake up in your arms tomorrow.” he innocently whispered, shutting his eyes as sleep overtook him.

“Goodnight, Kotaro,” you whispered, flicking off the lamp as the two of you fell asleep in a mutual embrace, eager for what tomorrow will bring.

reblogs appreciated ❤

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mostly-imagines · 4 months ago

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but who’s the better husband: jay or dick?

18+ content below

apples, oranges…it’s all about preference babey

dick is a traditionally romantic kind of husband. buys you fresh flowers every week, insists on carrying all the groceries inside himself (all in one trip btw), opens doors for you and pouts when you beat him to it, lays you down and eats you out proper when he gets home from work. he loves to spoil you when you least expect it, taking you out on surprise dates or paying for you to get your nails done after a long day. he likes to constantly remind you and anyone that’ll listen that he’s your husband and that you’re his wife. really wouldn’t shut up about it after you’d first gotten married. i think deep down he’s a white picket fence kind of guy and he’d save up the whole time you’re engaged (and honestly for a while before that) to buy a nice little house for the two of you. you painted the walls together and he moved the furniture and decor around wherever you wanted. you start up your own little traditions as time goes on. on the last friday of every month you and dick experiment with new recipes, usually baking per his request. more than half the time it ends up inedible and quite literally falling apart, but you value the flour fights and post-taste testing messy kisses more than the leftovers or lack thereof. you like to handout candy on halloween to the neighborhood kids together and tidy up the house together when it’s needed.

jason’s main priority as a husband is making sure that you’re taken care of. he’d give you everything he possibly could and would find a way to compensate for what he couldn’t. he’ll get you the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen and he has a thing about holding your hand and watching it shine in the light. jason really is mr. domesticity and he would straight up build you a house. it would be a big plot of land, pretty isolated with trees all around. it’s probably like 30-45 minutes outside of gotham and well out of the typical range of danger. he’s more than happy to help you fill it with babies of your own and anything you could have dreamed of having when you were little. forever night owls, you’re prone to midnight parties with just the two of you and moonlight walks around the property. not to mention, he absolutely loves having a whole house worth of space to fuck you wherever and whenever he wants—it’s opened you up to a lot of new experiences. i also honestly think he would give up being red hood to settle down with you, at least for the most part. he’ll still suit up to help when there’s bad emergencies in gotham or his brothers need his help but he’s like 80/20 retired.

#for me personally #jason is probably my ultimate cup of tea #dick grayson thoughts™#jason todd thoughts™#dick grayson is obsessed w his gf #jason todd loves his gf #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader

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cxrrodedcoffin · 24 days ago

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❀ 𝐁𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 ❀

Kinktober fic 3: Cooper Abbott ❀ Kidnapping/Gunplay/CNC

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠!

a very special thank you to @xxbimbobunnyxx for the chat sesh that inspired many of the special little details in this, love you dolly!! ♡ 𐙚 ‧₊˚

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dom!cooper, stalker!cooper, bimbo!reader, kidnapping, dubcon, stockholm syndrome, voyeurism, gunplay, masturbation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cnc “forced” breeding, dacryphillia, daddy kink, creampie, choking, bruising, fem + afab reader, chloroform mention, alcohol mention, oral fixation, degradation, pet names (bunny, sweetheart), oral sex mention (m + f receiving), mutual obsession

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7k

𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐨��𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐛𝐨𝐚𝐫𝐝

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞-𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐬, 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐦 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐞, 𝐝𝐮𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐧-𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭, 𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 “𝐧𝐨” (𝐬𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝), 𝐠𝐮𝐧𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 “𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐝” 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐟 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐮𝐩𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞.

Cooper had a soft spot for you, he always had, from the first day he saw you walking past the fire station on your way home. He’d become obsessed, learning your daily routine, your work schedule, what days you liked to go out with your friends. He’d stay out all hours of the night to watch you through the window of your apartment. He loved that you were a night owl, staying up late to dance around your bedroom, watching movies late into the night, even putting on a show for him every time you got new clothes, flashing him your pretty breasts and perfect ass without even knowing it, because you always kept your blinds open, silly girl.

He spent weeks buying things to match the decor he saw around your apartment, pretty pink curtains to put over the small basement windows, a blanket with little bunny motifs all over it, ruffled satin pillow cases just like the ones you had on your bed, even going from pet store to pet store to find a dog bed large enough to comfortably fit you so you wouldn’t have to sleep on the hard concrete like the rest of his victims. You weren't a temporary thrill the way the others had been, no, he planned on keeping you forever.

You were so sweet, so innocent, so full of life. On Halloween night, when you bounded down the stairs of your apartment building dressed as the cutest little bunny he’d ever seen in a white and pink babydoll dress, thigh high stockings, and pink platform heels with fluffy ears and a tail to match, he knew it was the night. While you were out with your friends, doing shot after shot, Cooper was persuading your landlord with his fireman’s badge to let him into your apartment to check for a gas leak. Once inside he perused your belongings, admiring your delicate eye for decorating before gathering some of your clothing and shoving them into his duffle bag, being sure to grab your stuffed bunny off of your bed before giving your landlord the okay and returning to his vehicle parked across the street.

He waited, watching the passersby until he saw you stumbling alone down the sidewalk, almost tripping in your heels as you braced yourself against a lamp post. He slipped from the car, jogging across the street to offer you a helping hand, his heart racing at the way you smiled up at him and giggled a drunken “You’re hot.” against his shoulder as you fell into him. He almost felt bad, placing the chloroform soaked rag over your mouth. But the way your eyes fluttered so sweetly to sleep shook all of that away, knowing you were meant to be his.

You fought him for a while, kicking and scratching and even biting him the one time he’d tried to brush your hair away from your face that first week of captivity. You resisted him as much as you could, spending every moment you had alone those first few weeks searching for ways to escape, but the more time you had alone with your thoughts, the more you started to believe that life with Cooper wouldn’t be too bad.

He was kind to you, attentive, making sure you ate the food he prepared for you, always taking a bite first to show you it was safe. He brought you books to read while he was away, turned on a mix cd of your favorite songs he’d studied your spotify account for weeks to perfectly curate. He gave you your privacy when you showered, providing you with the hair and bath products you used before he’d taken you, he brushed your hair out, letting you use your heat tools to style it and do your makeup to make you feel more like your usual self under his supervision to be sure you wouldn’t hurt yourself.

He didn’t try to touch you before you were ready, waiting for the day you made the first move, when he knelt down beside you to give you your dinner and you leaned in to kiss him, just a soft peck on the cheek to start. He was handsome, even drunk you knew it that first night, and watching him haul his laundry up and down the stairs each week, arms flexed with his grip, your carnal needs were growing stronger. You wanted him, needed to know if the size of his member matched his staggering height, and as the months went by, you grew more wanton.

Cooper felt like he could’ve had a heart attack the day he opened the surveillance stream on his phone to find you sprawled across your bed, legs spread and dainty fingers pumping in and out of your wet heat, your other hand rubbing quick circles over your swollen clit as you let out the softest, neediest whimpers he’d ever heard. He had to excuse himself to the bathroom at work, making sure his headphones were in to hear you when you came, his fist pumping his cock furiously over the toilet as he watched you fuck yourself desperately, your nose scrunched adorably with the way you concentrated on your movements. When you came, Cooper groaned so loud he knew he’d have to come up with an excuse when he walked out, because what left your mouth made his head spin. You didn’t just moan, you cried out “Daddy!” clear as day.

That was the beginning of him testing the waters, letting his hand linger on you a little longer each time, feeling your skin heat up beneath his touch, until the day you said so sweetly he felt he could’ve died right there, “I-I need help.” and finally asked him to touch you. You trembled underneath him, body on fire with every skirt of his fingers over your skin until they reached your most sensitive areas, rubbing expertly over your clit as his free hand pushed your shirt up over your chest, his mouth finding one of your nipples and gently sucking until you were arching into him, the dual stimulation too much for your touch starved body. You came embarrassingly quickly, clinging to him like you might fall to pieces if he ever let you go.

Cooper spent the next few months figuring out what exactly made you squirm, going out of his way to be sure he just had to wash the flannel he was currently wearing while loading the washing machine full of his laundry, taking his time undoing each button one by one, watching the way you tried to sneakily look over the top of your book to catch a glimpse of his shirtless physique. When he’d gone back up the basement stairs you shamelessly stared at his back, watching the way his muscles shifted with every step he took. He did everything he could to drive you crazy, your requests for his help in relieving your frustrations growing more and more frequent until it was an almost daily occurrence.

He quickly caught on to what kinds of touch made you react the most, and what he found above all else was that underneath that sweet exterior, you had a strong penchant for pain. He’d dig his fingers into you when he went down on you, nails biting into the plush of your thighs until you bruised, your cries of pleasure louder when he pressed down on them. You arched your back the first time you let him sink his thick cock into you, exposing your delicate neck and silently begging for him to wrap his hand around it until he took the hint, squeezing gently as he looked into your eyes, something sparking behind them with the breathy gasp that left your parted lips.

“Little bunny, you like when daddy hurts you, don’t you?” He taunted, watching your eyes light up at the given name, your heart soaring as you finally had names for your dynamic, nodding eagerly as much as you could with his hand around your throat and his hips still slamming into yours.

You became more obedient over time, subconsciously waiting for the rumble of his truck in the driveway when he arrived home from work, your heart racing in anticipation every time you heard it. You found yourself fixing your hair, trying on what different outfit combinations you could make with the few pieces Cooper had managed to take from your apartment, spraying your perfume right before you knew he’d come down the stairs, doing everything you could within your confines to be as appealing to him as possible. Little did you know that he found you appealing in all forms, but seeing you put in that extra effort for him, doing your best to please him, brought him a level of satisfaction he’d never experienced before. You took pride in being his perfect little basement bunny, and he took pride in being your daddy.

You were made for him, had to be, he was sure of it. You were perfect, so willing to adapt, open to letting him play your body like a violin every chance he got. Fucking you was like the sweetest sonata with the way your cunt cradled his cock so perfectly, responding to his every movement the way an instrument does to those of a classically trained musician, walls pulsing rhythmically around him every single time you invited him into your orchestral harmony.

He hardly thought it could get any better until the day he came down the stairs with his handgun holster still attached to his belt, barely even giving a second thought to it as he walked quietly across the concrete floor, watching you snooze peacefully in your little nest of fluffy baby pink blankets and pillows.

“How’s my little bunny feeling?” Cooper’s gentle voice and soft caressing hand against your cheek woke you from your slumber, the cold emanating off the concrete basement wall prompting you to pull your plush blanket tighter around your scantily clad frame, only a baby pink tank, white frilly shorts, and your fuzzy white bunny socks to keep you warm.

“M’okay daddy, just a little cold.” You replied softly as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, your view of his strong build becoming more clear. He dropped into a squat next to your bed and cupped your chin in his hand, bringing your gaze to his.

“I’ve got another blanket and some sweaters I picked out just for you coming in the mail sweetheart, do you think you can wait a couple more days?” You looked up at him, nodding and stuttering out a “Yes daddy.” through chattering teeth, your body shivering as you sat up and the blanket slipped from your shoulders.

“If you’re a good girl, Daddy might just let you sleep in his bed upstairs tonight, would you like that?” He caressed your cheek, watching as you nuzzled into his touch and nodded eagerly. He smoothed your hair away from your face, your eyes wandering down his chest to his waist before stopping on an unfamiliar sight.

Your eyes went wide when you caught a glimpse of the gun on his hip. He saw it, that same spark behind your eyes he’d seen the first time he choked you, and he couldn’t resist the urge to press the issue as you continued to stare at the weapon.

“Do you want to see it?” His tone was one that would typically be used to address a curious child, knowing how much you liked the condescension. You nodded hesitantly, eyes fixated on it when he carefully withdrew the firearm from the holster. He turned it over in his hand, letting you examine it before brushing the slide and barrel against your cheek, making you shudder. “It’s not loaded.” He remarked, watching your shoulders relax, taking that as a sign to push you a little further. He nudged the muzzle against your lips, dragging your bottom lip down with it teasingly before muttering an experimental “Open.”

You obeyed, slowly opening your mouth until Cooper was able to begin to slide the barrel into your mouth, your front teeth just barely grazing over the front sight as it sunk deeper, stopping when the trigger guard bumped against your lower lip.

“Suck.”

You did your best to service the weapon the way you did Cooper’s cock, but the cold metal on your tongue was making it hard to move your tongue smoothly along the slide, your jaw instinctively trying to pull away. You continued sucking, just bobbing your head with hollow cheeks as you looked into his eyes, only a short distance from your face as he stayed down at your level. He loved watching you humiliate yourself just for him, willing to put yourself through all sorts of degrading acts just to see him smile lovingly at you the way you always hoped he would.

He withdrew the weapon, looking over the way your spit shone on the edge of the muzzle and halfway up the barrel. He drew it back, aiming it at your forehead. You trusted him wholeheartedly, but the action still made you tremble in fear, uncertain if he was lying about the gun being empty.

“Roll over, bunny. Ass in the air, now.” Your brain barely registered the order, still too focused on the firearm aimed point blank at your skull.

“Are you going to behave? Or do I need to keep this gun pointed at that dumb little brain of yours until you learn to comply?”

“No, I mean yes! yes daddy, I’ll be a good girl! I’m sorry!” The fear in your voice made Cooper’s cock twitch, steadily straining more and more against the dark denim of his jeans. He laughed in amusement at how quickly you shifted to your hands and knees, adrenaline coursing through your veins as the gun left your line of sight. You waited patiently as he paced behind you, just taking in the sight of your round ass in those tight ruffled shorts before abruptly gripping your hair and pushing your face into the plush of the bed, your back arching down to accommodate the harsh angle.

Next thing you knew there was foreign pressure against the increasingly embarrassing wet spot on the gusset of your shorts, rubbing teasingly against your folds through the thin layer of fabric. You rarely wore underwear anymore, and today was no exception, only your shorts separating you from being penetrated. You pushed back against what you thought was Cooper’s hand until the cool chill of metal grazed your inner thigh, making you whimper in shock. He gripped the waistband of your shorts, yanking them over your ass to gather at the bend of your knees, acting as a makeshift restraint to prevent you from crawling away.

You were exposed, cold air settling on your impossibly wet pussy, only heightening your sensitivity as the metal of the gun prodded at your folds. You shuddered, reaching for your stuffed bunny, hugging it tightly to your chest for comfort as your pussy clenched around nothing, your fear quickly turned into desperation, the necessity to be fucked growing increasingly apparent through your uneasiness. Cooper ran the muzzle through your heat, coating it in your arousal before pushing slowly into you, the gasps of disbelief and pleasure alike echoing from your throat amazing him. He knew you were dark, but he never thought you’d let him go this far.

He thrust the short barrel in and out of the tight ring of muscles right at your entrance, watching you devolve into a mumbling, moaning mess, keeping you perched on the edge of stimulation, not giving you enough to work toward an orgasm but continuing to push the gun in as far as the trigger guard would allow, teasing you until he had you absentmindedly rocking your hips back against it.

Once Cooper decided he‘d had enough of his fun, he removed the weapon from your heat before placing it on the floor and sliding it across the concrete, out of reach from both of you but just barely remaining in your sightline.

He quickly undid the buckle of his belt, shoving his pants and briefs down to free his aching cock, it practically directing itself to your waiting cunt in front of it. You relaxed into the bed beneath you, the heat rising in your body enough to warm you from the frigid cold of the basement as you eagerly waited for Cooper to finally fill you.

“Did you enjoy that, dirty girl?” His voice sounded distant through the blood pooling in your ear drums but you gathered your scattered thoughts enough to whimper a needy “Yes, daddy.” while nodding what little you could with your cheek pressed to the cushion between you and the ground.

“Then that greedy little pussy of yours is going to love this.” He practically growled, stalling with the tip of his cock just inside your entrance for only a moment before pushing forcefully inside of you, your walls spasming at the sudden yet familiar intrusion. His pace was steady but hard, taking his time to draw almost completely out of you before slamming back in, his fingertips gripped tightly into the plush of your hips.

“She’s a needy little thing, just like you, you know. She was gripping the barrel of my gun for dear life, I almost felt bad taking it away from her, but I think she likes my cock even better, don’t you?” He spoke about your cunt as if it had gained sentience, was its own person. Something about it made you feel less than human, and it made the knot in the pit of your tummy tighten even further. You buried your face in the blanket bunched next to you, trying to hide from him despite the way he reached spots inside of you no one else had ever been able to.

“If you’re not gonna speak, I’m gonna have to listen to whatever your sweet little pussy says, think I’ll give her whatever she wants tonight.” He drew his hand back before landing a harsh smack to your ass, drawing a muffled yelp and an extra firm squeeze of your cunt from you as he watched the raised outline of his handprint form on your tender flesh.

“She likes pain, bunny.” He stated matter of fact, his hand snaking under your hip to find your neglected clit, the swollen bundle of nerves finally getting the attention it so desperately needed. Your walls fluttered around him in response to the focused circling of his expertly trained fingers, milking his cock for everything it was worth, your bodies melding together in the most primal way.

“She likes pleasure, too.” He laughed, increasing his pace until he felt the familiar grip of your cunt on the verge of orgasm, pulling him in with every contraction of your walls around him.

“You hear that? She’s telling me she wants me to put a baby in her.” He leaned over your arched back, his words raining down over you like a heavy downpour. You gasped, eyes rolling back at the provocative statement.

“What little bunny? You like that? Want Daddy to pump your little pussy full of cum?” He laughed again, taking great enjoyment in pushing your buttons, your body literally begging for it in every carnal sense.

“N-No, Daddy, please don’t!” You managed to push the blanket you’d been muffling yourself with aside to feign protest, putting up an imaginary fight.

“Your pussy is saying otherwise, bunny. She’s begging me to give her my babies.” His hand slapped at your clit, making you jolt and cry out again, tears slipping past your waterline from the almost overwhelming amount of stimulation.

“No, no, no! I don’t want to get pregnant daddy, please don’t do it!” You sobbed, your head spinning as he hit that soft spot deep inside of you over and over and over, unable to stop yourself from moaning as tears streamed down your hot cheeks.

“Oh listen to you cry, you're just too cute sweetheart, now I’ve gotta knock you up.” He dripped sickeningly sweet condescension through gritted teeth, a low growl sitting at the back of his throat waiting to be set free.

“You’re gonna give daddy a whole litter of baby bunnies.” He groaned, hips slamming against your ass so hard your skin reverberated back against him, your whole body convulsing as it betrayed every thought in your mind, an orgasm stronger than any you’d ever had before coursing through your every nerve ending as a sobbed scream ripped from your tired throat.

You could feel his cum fill you to the brim as he came with an animalistic groan, the warm substance dripping down onto your trembling thighs when he pulled out. You wanted to collapse info the floor but your body wouldn’t let you, still frozen in the aftershocks of your orgasm. You felt Cooper’s large hands on your lower back, gently pushing you to lay flat on your tummy before laying next to you, one arm wrapped around your waist as he looked at you, waiting for you to finally come down.

“Did I do good, daddy?” You asked barely above a whisper, your throat sore. He smiled, brushing a loose lock of hair behind your ear, that tenderness he held for you showing again.

“You did amazing, sweetheart. Let’s get you up to bed, you definitely deserve it.” He rose to his feet, helping you up on shaky legs before guiding you over to and up the steps, his hand remaining glued to your lower back to remind you who was still in control despite his soft spot for you.

—

tagging: @xxbimbobunnyxx @babygorewhore i@hereforthehitsbaby @thebutchersbitch @userchai @hibiskooks @strangererotica @pinastrihaven @acidqueensstuff @dirtylittlefairytales @batgirlofficial

please comment or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my future cooper abbott/adams fics!

#dividers by cxrrodedcoffin #cooper abbott #cooper adams #trap 2024 #josh hartnett #mine #my writing #my dividers #cooper abbott x reader #cooper adams x reader #cooper abbott smut #cooper adams smut

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witchboxco · 10 months ago

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Imbolc Altar Ideas & Correspondences

Imbolc, also known as Candlemas or Brigid's Day, marks the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox. It's a time to celebrate the returning light and the awakening of the Earth.

Altar Decorations:

Candles: Imbolc is strongly associated with the element of fire. Decorate your altar with candles in shades of white, yellow, and light blue to represent the increasing daylight.

Brigid's Cross: Craft or purchase a Brigid's Cross, a traditional symbol associated with the Celtic goddess Brigid. Hang it on your altar as a protective charm.

Seasonal Flowers: Place early spring flowers like snowdrops, crocuses, and daffodils on your altar. These symbolize the first signs of life returning to the land.

Herbs: Incorporate herbs such as rosemary, thyme, and cinnamon for their purifying and invigorating properties. Bundle them together with a red or white ribbon.

Seeds: Represent the potential for growth by adding a dish of seeds to your altar. Consider seeds associated with early spring crops like wheat or herbs.

Imbolc Symbols: Include symbols like lambs, ewes, and the sun to capture the essence of this seasonal transition.

Candle Holders: Choose unique candle holders or lanterns to enhance the ambiance. Consider using candle holders in the shape of suns, stars, or nature-inspired designs.

Divination Tools: Add divination tools like tarot cards or runes to your altar for seeking guidance during this transitional period.

Symbolic Stones: Integrate crystals such as citrine for abundance, aquamarine for clarity, and moonstone for intuition. Arrange them aesthetically around your altar.

Feathers: Symbolizing air and spirituality, feathers can be incorporated to invoke the energy of the season. Choose feathers from birds associated with the goddess Brigid, like swans or owls.

Artwork: Display artwork or illustrations that resonate with the themes of Imbolc. This could include depictions of Brigid, snow-covered landscapes, or symbols of growth and renewal.

Imbolc Incense: Craft or purchase incense blends with scents like frankincense, myrrh, and chamomile to fill your sacred space with a soothing and purifying aroma.

Correspondences

Goddess Brigid: Imbolc is sacred to Brigid, the Celtic goddess of hearth, home, and inspiration. Invoke her energy for healing, creativity, and protection.

Colors: White, yellow, light green, and light blue are associated with Imbolc. Use these colors in candles, altar cloths, and decorations to align with the festival's energy.

Stones: Crystals such as amethyst, garnet, and clear quartz resonate with Imbolc's energies.

Foods: Dairy products, especially cheese, and foods made with seeds like bread or muffins are fitting for Imbolc. Set offerings on your altar or incorporate them into your celebration feast.

Water: Imbolc is also associated with the element of water. Include a small bowl of water on your altar to symbolize purification.

Creativity Symbols: Imbolc is a time for inspiration and creative endeavors. Include symbols of your creative pursuits, such as a paintbrush, musical instrument, or writing quill.

Anointing Oils: Create or purchase anointing oils infused with herbs like lavender, rosemary, and frankincense. Use them to anoint candles, tools, or yourself during Imbolc rituals.

Animal Representations: Incorporate figurines or images of animals associated with Brigid, such as lambs, cows, or swans, to honor her connection to the animal kingdom.

Wheat or Corn Dolls: Craft small dolls from wheat or corn husks, symbolizing the harvest to come. Place them on your altar as a representation of the Earth's fertility.

Bell or Chimes: Hang a bell or wind chimes near your altar to symbolize the awakening of nature and the stirring of life. Ring it during your Imbolc rituals to mark significant moments.

Decorative Cloth: Choose an altar cloth with intricate patterns or symbols related to Imbolc, such as suns, wheels, or Brigid's crosses, to add a touch of magic to your sacred space.

May you find warmth in the returning light. <3

#pagan #witchcraft #paganism #witch #occult #wicca #dark #magick #neopagan #wiccan #imbolc #february #witchblr #imbolg #brigid of kildare #goddess brigid #st brigid

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themodernwitchsguide · 11 months ago

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altars for greek gods (pt.2)

this post includes zeus, hera, poseidon, hestia, hephaestus, dionysus, ares, demeter, and athena. for part 1 including hades, persephone, artemis, apollo, aphrodite, hermes, and hekate click here, for the titans and protogenoi click here.

keep in mind that this is largely UPG, new age stuff, and historically accurate offerings to the gods include meat, wine, grain (specifically barley), honey, and incense (myrrh and frankincense).

colors can be used for candles, banners, decor, whatever you want

ZEUS

Colors: white, blue, and grey for association with the heavens, yellow and black for association with storms. gold because he's the King of the Gods

Offerings: rain water, oak, olives/olive branches/olive leaves, vervain, cinnamon, laurel. images of himself or lightning bolts are particularly recommended for Zeus

Crystals: diamonds, gold (i think pyrite, aka fool's gold, would be offensive), turquoise, lapis lazuli, celestite, iron/steel, any quartz

Animals: eagle, bull

POSEIDON

Colors: blue and white for association with the seas, gray for association with storms, brown for association with the earth/earthquakes

Offerings: coffee, mint, ocean water, salt, seashells

Crystals: coral, petoskey stone, abalone, opal (especially water opal), blue calcite, aquamarine

Animals: horse, bull, dolphin, hippocampus

HERA

Colors: red, pink and white for association with love and marriage. gold because she's the Queen of the Gods.

Offerings: iris, rose, patchouli, coconut, cypress, maple, peacock feathers, pomegranate

Crystals: pearls, garnet, citrine, diamonds, lapis lazuli, topaz, opal, moonstone, rose quartz

Animals: peacock, cuckoo, cow

HESTIA

Colors: red, orange, and yellow for association with fire, brown or white for the hearth/home.

Offerings: tea/coffee (especially if you drink it with her), pine, bread, cider, apples, anything on fire, cinnamon

Crystals: amber, jade, garnet, ruby, carnelian, sunstone, amethyst, honey calcite

Animals: donkey, pig, crane

HEPHAESTUS

Colors: red, orange, and yellow for association with fire, metallics for association with metalworking.

Offerings: spicy things, hot beverages, handmade things, dragon's blood incense, seashells, anything on fire

Crystals: metals, fire opal, honey calcite, obsidian, hematite, carnelian

Animals: donkey, dog, crane

DIONYSUS

Colors: purple and green for association with grapes/wine, leopard/tiger print for his holy animals

Offerings: grapes (or any derivative), alcohol, cinnamon, ivy, pinecones. there's a particular emphasis on non-physical offerings with dionysus, like playing music, partying or sex/masturbation

Crystals: grape agate, leopard jasper, crazy lace agate, tiger's eye, garnet, rose or rutilated quartz, amethyst, jade

Animals: panther/leopard, tiger, bull, serpent, dolphin

ARES

Colors: red and purple for association with war

Offerings: spicy things, yarrow, chocolate, basil, cinnamon

Crystals: bloodstone, garnet, red jasper, smokey quartz, black tourmaline, hematite, metals, obsidian, carnelian

Animals: eagle owl, barn owl, poisonous snakes, boar, vulture

DEMETER

Colors: green, brown, and yellow for association with the earth/harvest. black for her ruthlessness

Offerings: oats and grain, anything baked, flowers, spices (like cinnamon or cloves, allspice is good too), leaves that have begun to change colors for fall, mint, poppy

Crystals: jade, tree/moss agate, carnelian, amber, aventurine, rutilated quartz

Animals: serpent, farm animals (especially pig), gecko, turtle-dove

ATHENA

Colors: white and grey/silver for association with wisdom. red for association with war

Offerings: anything handmade, olives/olive oil/olive branches/olive leaves, snake shed, cedar, cypress, cinnamon

Crystals: metals, celestite, fluorite, lapis lazuli, bloodstone, obsidian, iolite

Animals: snakes and owls

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greenwitchcrafts · 11 months ago

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December 2023 witch guide

Full moon: December 26th

New moon: December 12th

Sabbats: Yule December 21st-January 1st

December Cold Moon

Known as: Drift Clearing Moon, Frost Exploding Tree Moon, Moon of the Popping Trees, Hoar Frost Moon, Snow Moon, Winter, Aerra Geola, Maker Moon, Heilagmanoth, Long Night's Moon, Oak Moon, Wintermonat, Moon of the Long Night, Little Spirit Moon, Wolf Moon & When the Deer Shed Their Antlers Moon

Element: Fire

Zodiac: Sagittarius & Capricorn

Nature spirits: Snow, Storm, & Winter Tree faeries

Deities: Athena, Fates, Hades, Hathor, Hecate, Ixchel, Minerva, Neith, Norns, Osiris & Persephone

Animals: Bear, deer, horse & mouse

Birds: Robin, rook & snowy owl

Trees: Fir, Holly & Pine

Herbs: Bay, cedar, chamomile, cinnamon, English ivy, evergreen, fir, frankincense, holly, mistletoe, myrrh, pine & sage

Flowers: Christmas catus, holly & poinsettia

Scents: Cedar, cinnamon, frankincense, ginger, lilac, myrrh, nutmeg, patchouli, pine, rose geranium, rosemary, saffron, violet & wintergreen

Stones: Bloodstone, blue topaz, cat's eye, garnet, jacinth, obsidian, peridot, turquoise, zircon, ruby & serpentine

Colors: Black, blood red, gold, green, red, silver, black & white

Energy: Alchemy, darkness, endurance, death & re-birth, higher education, publications, reaching out to others, religion, spiritual paths, travel & truth

Today, December’s full Moon is most commonly known as the Cold Moon—a Mohawk name that conveys the frigid conditions of this time of year, when cold weather truly begins to grip us.

This full Moon has also been called the Long Night Moon (Mohican), as it rises during the “longest” nights of the year, near the December winter solstice. This name is doubly fitting because December’s full Moon shines above the horizon for a more extended period than most full Moons.

In Europe, ancient pagans called the December full Moon the “Moon Before Yule,” in honor of the Yuletide festival celebrating the return of the sun heralded by winter solstice.

Yule

Also known as: Alban, Arthan & Winter Solstice

Season: Winter

Symbols: Baskets of clove studded fruit, Christmas catus, decorated evergreen trees, evergreen boughs, gifts, gold pillar candles, hung mistletoe, poinsettias, wreaths & Yule logs/small Yule log with three candles

Colors: Gold, green, orange, red, silver, white &yellow

Oils/incense: Bayberry, cedar, cinnamon, frankincense. Myrrh & pine

Animals: Bear, boar, deer (stag), pig, squirrel & tiger

Birds: Eagle, goose, kingfisher, lapwing, owl robin & wren

Stones: Bloodstone, garnet, ruby, alexandrite, blue topaz, cat's eye, citrine, clear quartz, diamond, emerald, green tourmaline, jet, kunzite & pearl

Foods: Caraway cakes, cookies, eggnog, fruits, ginger tea, nuts, pork, spiced cider, turkey, wassail & lamb's wool (ale, sugar, nutmeg & roasted apples)

Herbs/plants: Bay, bayberry, birch, blessed thistle, cedar, chestnut, cinnamon, evergreens, fir, frankincense, ginger, holly, ivy, juniper, mistletoe, moss, myrrh, oak, pine, rosemary, sage, valerian & yellow cedar

Flowers: Chamomile, poinsettia & yarrow

Goddesses: Alcyone, Aphrodite, Ameratasu, Bona Dea, Brighid, Cailleach Bheur, Demeter, Diana, Fortuna, Frau Holle, Frau Perchta, Frigga, Gaia, Hel, Great Mother, Idunn, Isis, Ishtar, Kolyada, La Befana, Maat & Tiamat

Gods: Apollo, Attis, Balder, Bragi, Dionysus, Divine Child, Green Man, Helios, Holly King, Horned one, Horus, Janus, Lord of Misrule, Lugh, Mabon, Marduk, Mithras, Odin, Ra, Saturn & Surya

Issues Intentions & Powers: Darkness, divination, light, messages/omens, purification, rebirth/renewal & transformation

Spellwork: Earth magick, happiness, harmony, love & peace

Activities:

• Set up & decorate a Yule altar

• Clean, organize & cleanse before decorating your home

• Make witch's balls to hang on your tree (protective & pretty!)

• Decorate & bless & Yule tree

• Stay awake until dawn to observe the cycles of nature

• Give gifts tomyour family & friends

• Donate your time or helpful items to charity

• Go caroling

• Hang mistletoe in your doorways

• Make Wassail

• Prepare a Yule Log

• Host a Yule feast

• Craft your own decorative wreath

• Decorate your house with Yule colored candles

• Welcome the Sun

• Go on nature walks & leave offerings to nature

• Meditate & reflect on the passing year

“Yule” comes from Old English geol, which shares a history with the equivalent word from Old Norse, jól. Both these words referred to a midwinter festival centered around the winter solstice, which traditionally marked the halfway point of the winter season. After the solstice—the shortest day of the year—the days again begin to grow longer, so it’s thought that Yule was a celebration of the re-appearance of the Sun &the fertile land’s rebirth.

The celebration of Yule is one of the oldest winter celebrations in the world. Ancient people were hunters & spent most of their time outdoors. The seasons & weather played a significant part in their lives. The customs and traditions associated with it vary widely.

Scholars have connected the original celebrations of Yule to the Wild Hunt, the god Odin, and the heathen Anglo-Saxon Mōdraniht ("Mothers' Night")

Some believe it marks the rebirth of the Sun (the God) from the Earth (the Goddess) & the cold days of winter will soon begin to wane. The Goddess is seen in her virgin Maiden aspect

In towns and cities throughout Sweden during the Christmas season, large goats are constructed out of straw. It is thought that the tradition originated in ancient times, perhaps as a tribute to the god Thor, who was said to ride in a chariot pulled by goats. In Sweden the goat came to be associated with the Christmas celebration, and the Yule goat is now considered by many to be a companion or counterpart to Santa Claus.

Related festivals:

Christmas- An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ as the son of God, primarily observed on December 25th

Hanukkah- A Jewish festival commemorating the recovery of Jerusalem & subsequent rededication of the Second Temple at the beginning of the Maccabean Revolt against the Seleucid Empire in the 2nd century BCE.

Hanukkah is observed for eight nights & days, starting on the 25th day of Kislev according to the Hebrew calendar, which may occur at any time from late November to late December in the Gregorian calendar. The festival is observed by lighting the candles of a candelabrum with nine branches, commonly called a menorah or hanukkiah.

Kwanzaa- An annual celebration of African-American culture from December 26 to January 1st, culminating in a communal feast called Karamu, usually on the sixth day. It was created by activist Maulana Karenga, based on African harvest festival traditions from various parts of West & Southeast Africa. Kwanzaa was first celebrated in 1966.

A Kwanzaa ceremony may include drumming and musical selections, libations, a reading of the African Pledge & the Principles of Blackness, reflection on the Pan-African colors, a discussion of the African principle of the day or a chapter in African history, a candle-lighting ritual, artistic performance & finally, a feast of faith (Karamu Ya Imani).

Saturnalia-

is an ancient Roman festival and holiday in honour of the god Saturn, held on 17 December of the Julian calendar & later expanded with festivities through to 23 December. The holiday was celebrated with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn, in the Roman Forum & a public banquet, followed by private gift-giving, continual partying & a carnival atmosphere that overturned Roman social norms: gambling was permitted & masters provided table service for their slaves as it was seen as a time of liberty for both slaves and freedmen alike.

A common custom was the election of a "King of the Saturnalia", who gave orders to people, which were followed & presided over the merrymaking. The gifts exchanged were usually gag gifts or small figurines made of wax or pottery known as sigillaria. The poet Catullus called it "the best of days".

Other celebrations:

Feast of Epona-

Eponalia is the feast day of Gaulish Goddess Epona, the Divine Mare & in the time of the Roman Empire it was celebrated on December 18th.

Epona is known to be one of a very few Gaulish deities whose names were spread to the rest of the Roman Empire. This seems to have happened because Roman cavalry units stationed in Gaul followed Her & adopted her as their Patroness. This may have started because many of the cavalry troops were conscripted from Gaul as they were superb horsemen. From Gaul the Romans took Epona with them including to Rome where She was given her own feast day on the 18 December. They worshipped her as Epona Augusta or Epona Regina & invoked her on behalf of the Emperor. She even had a shrine in the barracks of the Imperial Bodyguard.

Hunting of the Wren-

A traditional custom carried out on the Isle of Man on the 26 December, St. Stephen's Day. It consists of groups of people going around villages and towns singing and dancing a traditional song and dance around a decorated wren pole.

The earliest and most common folklore story accounting for the origin of hunt the wren tells of a fairy/enchantress/witch whose beauty lures the men of the Isle of Man to harm, for which she is chased and is changed into the form of a wren. It is therefore in punishment for her actions that the wren is hunted on St. Stephen's Day

Sources:

Farmersalmanac.com

Llewellyn's Complete Book of Correspondences by Sandra Kines

A Witch's Book of Correspondences by Viktorija Briggs

Llewellyn's 2023 magical almanac: practical magic for everyday living

Wikipedia

Encyclopedia Britannica

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 1 year ago

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OWL-EYES (XII)

|| COV MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER XIII ||

PAIRING: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x F!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 5.7K

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, angst, mentions of guns & weapons, light gore mentions, talks about shootings, talks & allusions of suicidal thoughts, tension, mentions of sex, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Your eyes slip along the white ceiling as the pain pulses in your thigh. Machines beep—lights flicker.

Too bright, you hiss. A weak hand comes up to your face, slapping the skin in a fatigued way as it travels over your cheeks and nose. Everything was fuzzy, even down to the way your body processed the events that slowly leaked back into your skull like a drill into wood.

Where were you? What had happened?

Groaning, your memory is tainted—the IV chord in your hand pulling as you place your arms on the mattress and push upward. Lightning strikes down your right thigh, making your breath shudder as you grit your teeth. It wasn’t life-stopping pain, it hurt about as much as what it felt like to have your leg asleep, but the constant pressure that was there didn’t help with the knowledge that swoops in to poke at you.

You’d been shot.

Eyes locking to the opposite wall of this room, your jaw slackens.

Shot? But the realization was obvious—the understanding in that former state only eluded you because of the brief confusion of sudden consciousness. With time to process, you grab at the covers over your lower body and pull them back stiffly, feeling nauseous. Sure enough, there was the limp limb under the hospital gown you’re clothed in. As you peel the article away, the bandages that show themselves are thick and large—taking up most of your upper leg. You take your fingers and poke at them softly, insects buzzing beneath flesh. The pull of stitches leaves your better senses telling you to stop there.

“Jesus,” you mutter, blinking wildly as you look up, dread in your heart. Where was your mother? Alex?

Kyle?

Eyes moving from one chair to another—the round table near the back corner next to a closed and curtained window—you shut your eyes tightly and breathe down the scent of bleach and antiseptic. You were obviously somewhere safe; there was no need to panic.

But being alone was suddenly the last thing you wanted.

Pulling at the IV needle, you move it out of your hand with a grimace, forcing your tired body to shift and bend the way you want it like a green tree branch in the clutch of a storm. Bare feet placing themselves to the floor, your knees buckle, your arm snapping out to grasp at a chair that had been placed directly beside your bed. On it sits a ballcap, and you barely blink at it before shoving yourself forward with a tight twist to your lips.

Sweat forms on your brow, your right leg can’t be described as functioning as it practically drags itself along…but your mind eases at the fact that you could still use it at all. Right hand grasping at the wrapped flesh and holding it tightly, you choke on whines as the smooth handle of the main door meets your shaky fingers.

Brown eyes.

Above every screaming instinct, you admitted something to yourself with a pounding heart—you needed to see brown eyes.

“Gaz,” your hoarse voice cracks, shoulder connecting with the frame as you nearly tumble to the ground, coughing and snapping a hand to your mouth. A trial of blood slithers down your leg.

Why did you have to be so self-destructive?

A crimson footprint mirrors your delirious state, steaks of blood along the tiled floor as you pick a direction and walk—head running far faster than it should have after just waking up in a place you were supposed to feel safe in.

Your mansion. Your home. Was it safe? Were those long corridors still filled with bodies; gore along the old floors and the decorations?

A hand comes up to your spinning head, breath only a fast gasp and tight inhale as your lungs sputter along their course. Everything was tilting—falling fast and blinking in and out.

“Shit…” Your lips twitch, the curse slurred as you stumble and bank to the right, shoulder once more slamming itself into the wall as sparks of pain emanate from the bone. Above you, the lights shine down, but no one else walks the hallway except you. There were no windows, either. Just closed doors and sterile air—but this wasn’t a regular hospital.

You knew what a hospital felt like.

Your body stays against the wall for a long minute, your vision swirling. Swallowing the saliva in your throat, you hear the fast footsteps through the pounding of your heart.

“Spitfire!” The British accent is laced with concern, but above the ringing in your ears, it’s almost missed.

Hands grasp your bicep, a tense body coming into sight before you.

“Bloody hell, what are you doing, Love?” Kyle speaks quickly, glancing over your body and clenching his jaw at the spilling bullet wound. He sighs as your face tightens in pain, eyes slipping up to his slowly.

“Finding you,” you push out. “...Obviously.”

“Can I not leave you alone for five minutes?” He glares through his worry, brows tight on his face and his lips thin. “I go to get food and all of a sudden I’m on a goose chase.”

You grunt, letting your weight fall into his grip.

“Least I’m a pretty goose, Garrick.”

“Fuck me,” the man sighs long, shaking his head. “Come on. I’m taking you back.”

Before you can open your mouth and reply, you’re scooped up and taken to a firm chest—legs dangling as blood drips from your heel. Gaz’s clothes get stained, but he seems to care little just like he always; neither thrown off nor taken aback.

“Everyone?” You ask, panting into his neck after a moment. Your brain was too tired to be shocked—you let him cart you away as your hands wrapped his neck. “My mother?”

“They’re fine,” Kyle mutters under his breath, looking down at the stained footprints. “She was with you before she went off to bed. It’s late out.” You have a feeling he wants to say more but is holding himself back—you weren’t exactly surprised. The man closes his eyes for a moment before his hands pull you closer to him.

Sinking into his warmth, wishing to steal it, your face softens as your muscles can rest again—your body gently swaying with every step from Kyle. Like a small child, the scent of him made the heart inside of your chest slow until it was a gentle pulse of life.

The blurriness of your vision suddenly seemed less of a hindrance and more of a blessing as your tiny breaths puffed against his neck. Before you can fall asleep, brown eyes side-eye your fluttering lids. Kyle’s expression softens.

You’re lightly jostled, and your eyes startle back fully open; blinking like you’d gotten sand in them.

“Keep awake, now, Spitfire.”

You grumble, clenching your jaw. “I’m tired.”

Gaz glances down and utters, “I’d expect you would be—it’s the first time you’ve woken up in two days. Healing takes time.”

“Two days?” your mind tries to process this as the man’s shoulder pushes on the slightly open door back to your room. The knowledge of two entire days being wasted grabs you by the neck. “Where even am I?”

“Base,” he smoothly answers, before he tries a slow tease. “The one in Chicago, if that’s the concern.”

You frown as you’re delicately placed down; your body tensing slightly as your leg is jostled. Your air is forced out in a tiny grunt.

Kyle seems to waste no time, disappearing into the connected bathroom as the sound of running water enters the space as you force yourself to try and understand.

“We keep finding ourselves like this, Love.” He says when he returns, his compression shirt is full of blood stains—his pants as well. But the concern in his tone is still there, hidden under a blanket of seriousness. “Let me have a look.”

“I didn’t mean to pull them,” you mutter, shifting the gown so that Kyle can take a peek at the damage. He hums and untapes the bandages, fingers softly running the length of them as your stomach tightens at the close contact. For some strange reason, your face turns away quickly, heated under the flesh.

“I think you don’t mean to do a lot of things.” Your mouth huffs a cut-off scoff. “Why’d you leave the room?”

You look at the far wall, feeling meek all of a sudden. The confession comes out like barbed wire—cutting up your throat.

“Nervous.” Gaz listens. “...Didn’t know where you were.”

“Worried about me, Spitfire?” He lightly plays, boyish, but you don’t explain how that very well was the case. You remember your fear when you had imagined him as one of the dead on the ground floor of the mansion—the urge to never think of that outcome again.

You didn’t like being like this.

Vulnerable.

Was a confession at a pond really all it took? One good cry and honest conversation? Was that it? You’d done that before—why hadn’t it…worked like this?

Why was Kyle becoming important?

But, here, the both of you knew you were dancing like birds around the bulk of the information on the tips of your tongues. The man you’d shot; that would be the first distraction, you decided to yourself as you licked your lips.

“Is he alive?” You ask, staring at the dresser across the room and its silver handle seeing your reflection in it—blinking at the distorted image.

Kyle’s fingers slow along their course of unwrapping the bloody strips. Your eyes shift back. He knew who you were referencing, sure as day.

“Affirmative,” is what he replies with, tone more dull than it had been before. As if trying to avoid this. You find his face blank of any expression as he focuses on your bandages.

“So,” you draw, not dropping it.

“Let’s just focus on getting you squared, yeah?” Gaz firmly tells, moving away to a cupboard and pulling out the familiar instruments of a well-taught soldier. You’re slightly taken aback at the dead quiet in his tone, but even if you wanted to snap at him, you were far too weak for that right now. Already a headache was forming.

Everyone was fine, the man who knew Samson Row was in custody. For now…it was partially enough to let you relax.

My father’s belongings. It strikes you like lighting as Kyle slips on gloves and grabs your knee. The evidence.

You jerk forward and grab his wrist—face darting forward near his. Brown eyes startle wide, a noise of shock made in the man’s throat.

“T-the laptop, he was going to destroy it!” Blinking quickly, your brain flies from one detail to another as the memories dig their claws back into your mind, a storm brewing behind your eyes as Kyle tries to speak. “The USB,” you cut him off, head snapping around the room for your pajama pants. “It…it was in my pocket—where did my—”

Your body makes a move to stand up.

“Woah.” Hands connect with the tops of your shoulders, trying to lightly push you back down. “Not happening,” Gaz levels, staring firmly as those dark eyes bore into you. “We don’t need you messing up that leg any more than it is. Stay down.”

“Kyle,” you grow more worried. “Where are my pants? I stashed the USB inside of—”

“We already have it,” the man states, squeezing your arms. “It’s already done just...rest for a minute, okay? I’m begging over here.”

Your body slowly bleeds itself of tension, the confession taking whatever strength that you’d been storing away up until this moment. A great sigh peels open your nostrils, sagging backward to the mattress.

A weak glare is sent into Kyle’s chest.

“Could have started with that,” you mutter, molten heat burning your cheeks.

“Didn’t bloody give me a chance,” he huffs. “Did you?”

Kyle shakes his head and goes to clean the stitches—wiping at the blood until he’s able to re-wrap it. He seems tense; on edge. You blink at him as one of your hands comes up to rub at your face, trying to keep yourself awake.

The man licks his lips when you lightly flinch at the brush of a disinfectant wipe. Fingers slide over your thigh, soft but hard enough to make a slight indent into the flesh. Your throat bobs in a swallow as his body heat floods like ambrosia.

“The laptop was gone,” he confesses, and you’re almost too lost to the feeling of his touch to understand. Your head snaps to him. “Same with the journal. The USB was all we were able to recover.”

“I…” The sound of your voice is weak, shock making your hands shake. “What do you mean ‘gone’, Kyle?”

“I carried you outside.” Gaz’s hands are still over your flesh, eyes staring at the wound which you actively avoid glancing at—the stitches and the ripped skin. “Got in the car to keep the pressure on the wound while another drove.” He pauses, jaw tensing. “Wasn’t there to keep watch. Alex left in another vehicle to get your mother out of the hot zone as quickly as possible.”

Your expression is blank, eyes delicately wide.

“Garrick…” You stutter after a moment of nothing. Neither of you breathes.

“I don’t like seeing you bleed, yeah?” He says and you watch with a tight chest. “So just…stay here until you’re better. We’ll take care of it.”

The turn of emotions leaves you mute. Your brain pulses with rampaging thoughts and strange feelings, but some things you can never say to light until you’re bursting at the seams. You imagine for a moment Kyle in the back of a van, shouting orders as your limp body leaks crimson over the seats—thinking of yourself in that position makes your wound pulse, your right leg shuffling until the pain makes you stop. Gaz blinks; pushing back the stiff expression on his face.

Gone? The evidence was gone? How…?

Kyle’s eyes actively avoid yours, and that in and of itself is an irony that you can’t miss.

Your eyes shift to the ballcap in the seat next to the hospital bed. Something sparks.

“Were you here…for two days?” You ask, and the man hums under his breath after a minute, not trying to hide the way he’d been worried about your health. But his answer leaves your throat dry.

“You were having nightmares.” Clean bandages are wrapped around your skin. “I’d have to shake you to make ‘em stop.”

Kyle focuses as he cups the back of your knee, applying light pressure and moving your limb to make sure his work won’t come untied and loosen. When he’s satisfied with his already-perfect actions, he settles your leg down softly and moves back to cross his arms over his chest.

“Oh,” you mutter. Against your will, your face slowly starts to heat up. Kyle’s feet shuffle like a deer’s, head turning to the far wall.

You clear your throat as the silence begins to border on uncomfortable. It was better to move on from that fact entirely.

“To be honest,” you ease out, tone quiet and fingers twitching as they move to clasp in your lap. Brown eyes filter back, but the Sergeant’s brain is racing like the lights that blink on the room’s machines, and he doesn’t know why. His body’s unable to stay still, and the feeling he’d had when your blood had been left in a trail on the floor…

Have to get someone to clean that, Gaz tells himself, but the notion is filed into the back of his mind.

“...I thought you’d have asked about the gun by now.”

“Was hoping to push that to tomorrow, honestly.” A cut-off huff leaves your lips, quirking in slight amusement.

“Sorry,” you grunt, raising a brow.

Kyle tilts his head in answer, lips pushing a half-hearted smirk. “Not surprised.”

The man moves to grab a clean rag and gloves, and your eyes follow his back as he does so—moving your toes and feeling the sparks of pain as if it was second nature to suffer.

Coming back, Kyle glances at the line of blood that had slithered to your foot, and you nod after a silent moment of eye contact that you eventually break early. His hand brings the soaked fabric to your flesh and begins delicately rubbing as your fingers itch at the back of your neck, nails biting into the skin.

“Go on,” the accent meets your ears as you sigh. “I’m listening.”

You don’t like how soft he’s made you.

“I found it in my father’s office after I went snooping during the first year. Took it.” You shrug, tired, and not entirely comfortable with the topic. “There isn’t much to tell. Just thought you’d be interrogating me by now.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Kyle moves back, tossing the rag away and sitting back in the seat after he snatches his hat off of it—situating it backward on his head. He points. “A gun, Spitfire. All this bloody time?”

“It was a need-to-know.” You whisper, head turning to the side.

“I needed to know.” Your lips twist into a scowl. “Why was it there?”

“You should be thankful it was,” you dodge. “You’re being weird, Garrick.”

His eyes hadn’t eased out of the hard earth that they were hewn from—his foot tapping the floor. It was making you anxious.

“Tell me,” the Brit says again.

“It’s not important,” you force a laugh, eyes darting to the door before your hands can start shaking. “I need to speak with my Mom, can you call her in?”

Kyle stays silent, watching you tensely—eyes unblinking.

“Don’t lie about that,” he mutters under his breath, so soft it was hard to hear. “Don’t.”

Your eyes lock with his, breath stolen. It’s a long staring match—one you’re surprised you stay in as long as you do. The room’s lights buzz, and the air is thick with tension.

Your resolve breaks off with a single fraction of a concerned look that grows over Kyle’s features the more this muteness continues. He was troubled by this. By you. Through the shooting, through all the other topics that needed to be discussed right now…he was choosing to talk about this.

Something you’d only briefly alluded to near the back pond of your estate.

“I…” your breath gets caught. “I wasn’t going to use it,” you lick your lips, eyes glossing over as you tear them away from him. “Kyle, I’m not…I’m not broken.”

Brown eyes crease with internal pain.

“I never said you were,” he whispers. “...But you need help.”

You laugh, turning your head away. “Yeah, sure.”

“Spitfire—”

“I already tried that, Kyle,” you admit. “It barely worked.”

“I’m not saying that you need to make any decisions right now,” he raises his hands. “I’m not putting that on you on top of all of this, yeah? But I want you to be safe.”

“That is your job,” you snap.

Gaz doesn’t let it get to him as he leans closer, elbows to his knees. “Long term. You’ve just been shot, and that on top of everything isn’t something you just get over. Neither is putting a knife in someone’s eye or having to constantly be under stress.” You want to scream at him. “I can get Laswell to contact someone for when all of this is behind you—”

“I’m not talking about this,” you grit your teeth. “Why are you bringing this up?”

“I’m worried!” Your face pulls in at the confession. “You worry me.” A loud inhale is heard moments after, Kyle’s voice calming back down almost instantaneously.

“I thought I could do this job and keep separate from it, but I can’t.” He admits, shaking his head and bringing up a hand to rub along the back of his neck. “Thought this would make it right. I thought wrong.”

“It’s just a gun—” You try once more to push back.

“It wasn’t,” Gaz interrupts, blinking as his jaw clenches. “Was it?”

“What?” You growl. “You want me to say I’ve never thought about using it? I’d be lying—you just told me not to do that.” Kyle’s body stills, eyelid flinching. “You want me to say I haven’t stayed up at night staring at my nightstand because I knew what was inside; ripping myself apart about it? That’s a lie too.” You’re past tears at this point—you’ve cried too much for them to carry meaning to you. “I’m not like you,” you breathe, “I can’t just move on to the next assignment. And no amount of al—”

Hands grip you tightly, drawing you to him.

“You fucking made my heart stop when you went down like that.” Your head is pressed into his pec, his hand on the back of your scalp and his breath brushing your hair. Eyes wide, you let him hold you to him, hospital gown hanging and mind so very tired.

It wasn’t what you were just talking about, but the implication of the comment is clear; the residual fear that was tight in Kyle’s throat.

He doesn’t want you dead, and if no one else had that same sentiment, then he would carry it himself like a martyr.

He doesn’t want you dead.

The Sergeant holds you until he feels you slowly start to sag against him, the fight leaving as his warmth takes you in and holds you close. Your nose twitches to his scent—pain for the moment lessening even by just behind hugged like this; firmly, his hands slightly shaking even if you can’t process what exactly that means.

“I told you by that pond that if you wanted to talk to me, you could talk all you wanted, yeah? I said that if it bothered me, I would tell you,” Gaz mutters into your hair. “I'm telling you right now, Spitfire, I will never be bothered. Speak to me, especially after all of this shit with the mansion. I…” He pauses and stops altogether.

Kyle takes a breath as your thoughts try to catch up with your lips, but everything is muddled together. If you stay here too long, you’ll forget how to breathe properly. It reminds you of the pond—of those willow trees and the cat. Warmth.

In the end, you only say, overwhelmed and fuzzy, “You’re crushing me.”

Gaz clears his throat and steps back after a shocked pause, avoiding your gaze as it moves to stare in surprise. His warmth turns back to a chill, hands no longer learning the atoms of your flesh or caressing injuries.

“...Sorry.” He says, quickly. Quietly. “I didn’t mean to…”

Face burning and body warm, you blink at him slowly as he trails off, as if he’s unsure of what exactly he means. When you both lock eyes, all turn away in an instant.

Neither of you speak for a long time, and the air electrifies like a brewing storm. But you knew storms—you knew lighting and thunder. This wasn’t that.

This was…it was…

You’re so out of it, that you can’t even define this feeling.

“I think I need to go back to bed,” you push out. “Tired.”

“Right, yeah,” Kyle agrees, nodding firmly and itching at his scar. “You…you want me to stay and—”

“No,” you shake your head, but you want to wail and you can’t explain why. “No, I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Sure.” He’s already walking to the door with fast feet as he rolls his shoulders. What was happening to the both of you? Why were your hands clammy?

Something makes you call out.

“Kyle?” He stops, back still to you. Your mouth opens, but for a moment nothing comes out. You stutter, “Thank you for…” Your mind flashes to the panicked calls that had echoed in your brain before unconsciousness had taken over like a wolf on a fleet-footed sheep. “For…catching me.”

The man’s hand is already on the doorknob, sitting there as his fingers twitch. Kyle’s voice is quiet, and he stares hard at the wood. But his answer is easy.

“...Don’t mention it.” The door opens. "Sleep well, Love." And closes with a soft click and you have to wonder if this entire encounter was a dream.

But his words still made your stomach flip the longer you thought them over.

—

“I’m okay, Mom,” you say, sitting in bed as light streams in from the window. “Really, the pain meds are working great.”

“If you feel anything,” your matriarch’s form moves across the room, straightening random items and fixing the old sheets. “I can get some more for you.” Her eyes narrow, her hand coming to her mouth. “Our secret.”

You hold back a huff of laughter, feeling lighter even if you’re confused.

She was acting less strict after you had gotten shot—more like a real mother and not a far-distant family member who comes to visit once a year and to whom you vaguely know the relation to. She’d even brought you food.

You bring the spoon to your lips, sipping the soup and taking down the liquid.

“Alright,” she waves her hands, laughing. “Okay, I’ll stop. I’m just worrying like I always do.”

Your lips slightly thinned at that, but you hold your tongue. You’d found you’re doing a lot of that lately.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Mom,” you speak slowly, bringing your spoon back down. “Does it hurt?” Your finger motions to her forehead and neck.

Ceramic from a shot vase had exploded right next to her as Alex had returned fire when the mansion had first been broken into. It had been the initial gunshot that you and Gaz had heard from his room—one that, if slightly moved to the side, would have been your mother’s head instead. She sports a long, bandaged, cut on her visage now; wrappings around her neck.

She shakes her head, waves a hand, and walks over to grab your arm, squeezing.

“No, no, I’m alright…You should be worried about yourself.” Her eyes glance at your thigh, aging hands moving to cross over her borrowed long-sleeved shirt. Those eyes of hers crease, but you can’t look at them fully. The knowledge hurts you. “I’m so proud of you, Sweetheart, you understand that?”

Your heart constricts, clearing your throat tinily as the lady bends down and kisses the top of your head, hand catching your cheek and caressing it.

“Thanks, Mom,” you mutter, timid in a way no one else could make you.

You wanted to say more—to be honest with her. But…oh, she’d done so much and she didn’t even seem to know it. Like a production factory, she just kept pushing out product after product, missing the mistake left on the last conveyor belt that was heading out to be packaged and shipped off. Your fingers itch to close the curtain across the room.

“Do you…” you pause, looking at her neck.

You wonder if at some point you were ever going to talk about your father with her, or if this game of avoidance would go on until one of you died. But you desperately wanted to talk to someone about it.

“What do you think Dad would say if he knew his favorite vase ended up getting shot?” You try a weak joke, a broken smirk peeling out.

Grabbing the cheap coffee that your mother had acquired for you, you take a long swig nervously before you make a tight face as you swallow it down. You tip the cup and look at the side in disgusted confusion. It tasted horrible.

How do you mess up coffee, you have to ask.

Your mother’s body slowly tenses.

Instantly, you want to get up and leave, but your leg prevents you. Shuffling, your nose twitches as the seconds draw on.

“I…I didn’t,” you start before you cut yourself off. Without another thought, you bring the coffee cup back to your lips and force it all down.

Trying not to gag, you wipe at your mouth as she utters.

“Let’s…focus on the future.”

“Okay,” you say through a tight throat. She takes the empty coffee cup and throws it into the trash.

You feel your heart go with it.

“But now,” your mother begins, walking back over and sitting on the end of your bed as her hand comes out and pats your leg. You restrain from jerking back, reaching for the water at your bedside table, and taking a swig to push down the bad coffee. Just as easily, you slip to the next topic like the previous one had been pointless.

But thus was the story of mothers and daughters.

“That Sergeant of yours,” you pause, blinking slowly. “What’s he like? I’ve talked to him a bit, but I don’t know him like you do. Tell me about him.”

“Kyle?” Your brows turn in. “What’s to know? He’s kept me safe while you’ve been away.”

The woman’s smile pulls with amusement. “I mean his attitude—is he kind? Funny?”

“Kind,” you say it far more easily than you’d say it to his face if he were here. “Definitely.” The line of questioning makes your flesh tight with confusion. Why did she want to know about Garrick? “He’s…he takes his job seriously,” you finish out. “But I gave him hell in the beginning.”

You chuckle, but your mother’s comment is quick.

“Language.” A stiff pause falls.

“Well, that’s good, Dear. I’m glad he’s been respectful…” Your mother trails off. “You haven’t…” she laughs, a hand coming up to her face. “Never mind.”

Your curiosity peaks, and you tilt your head at her, spine straightening a bit at the cut-off question. If one thing got your attention, it was something that was hesitant to be said. “No, it’s okay, Mom. What’s up?”

She mutters out softly, “You two aren’t…sleeping together, right?”

“Mom!” You groan, hand coming up to cover your eyes as the hot burning fire of a sun alights behind your flesh.

Hands caressing your thigh.

Your body shifts on the bed, your head shaking as your mother laughs aloud.

“I’m sorry, Sweetheart! It’s just…he stayed here for that entire time—when I came to visit he looked like he hadn’t slept at all.” Your eyes peek from behind your fingers, lids tight and cheeks pulled. But that interests you immensely. Your mother continues. “His leg was bouncing, and his eyes never left your face; it was like he was waiting for your heart to stop at a second’s notice.”

You try to process what you’re hearing, but it only serves to make the knot in your stomach pull tighter in on itself.

“He was just worried about his job,” you explain—pushing it all aside as you’re apt to do. “Alex would do it to you as well.”

“Not like how this boy held your hand.” Your face stills.

Itching at your cheek, your hand falls back to your lap. “...What?”

The woman stares as you gaze into her neck, something flashing past your eyes. “He held your hand—didn’t he tell you? When you had a nightmare, he would squeeze and start speaking to you. You calmed down nearly every time.”

—

Kyle stares at the approved reassignment order in his hands and feels his stomach drop to the floor.

Standing in Laswell’s temporary office, the file had been handed over along with the second—mission details from the rest of One-Four-One and the raids they’d gone on overseas to try and find Yaromir Osipov and Mala Kham. Some in Russia, some in Laos.

None at any port cities in China, the middle point between the two, but of course, only you would know about that.

“I thought this was what you wanted, Sergeant,” Laswell comments, seeing his face.

“I’m…” The man reads the request he sent in, down over every detail until he finds his digital signature which he’d signed off on. “I did,” Gaz says slowly.

“Then it’s settled.” Kate’s face is as blank a slate as always. “You’ll be back with John and the rest—they’ve been needing more eyes, and you’re the only person I can send.”

Kyle stays silent, not looking up at her. Under his hand, the paper crinkles softly as his thumb tightens.

Laswell’s eyes narrow, gaze moving from one point on the man’s form to another.

“Gaz,” she prods. “Say what you mean.”

“I can’t leave her here,” the response is muffled but firm.

Kate puts down the pen she’d been holding, moving her hands together and placing them on the table. “You signed the reassignment request.”

“I wasn’t thinking,” he counters. “Wasn’t in the right state.”

“I can’t do anything about that.”

“Kate,” Kyle looks up at her, jaw clenching. He stares before looking away, a sound echoing off in his throat—like a held-back sigh. The man puts the paper back on the desk in front of him. He motions with a hand before leaning back, running his other hand over his cap. “I just got some headway.”

Blue eyes twitch.

“I think you’re forgetting that she wasn’t your priority. Her safety was.”

Kyle fakes a laugh, pointing at the report. “And I failed!”

“She’s alive. As far as everyone else is concerned, the mission on your part has been a success.” Gaz’s heated eyes dart to the side wall, glaring tensely into the drywall. “John wants you overseas in the coming week.”

“A bloody week?”

Laswell picks up her pen again. “You’re lucky it wasn’t tomorrow.”

The Sergeant’s throat reverberates with an aggravated growl, but in the end, he only has himself to blame.

“She needs me here,” he explains, knowing it won’t change anything. “I won’t be able to think clearly if I don’t know she’s alright.”

Silence settles. Gaz almost gets anxious with how the woman is looking at him—those cold eyes digging past layer after layer like a scalpel trying to find a nerve. Kate thins her lips, blinking slowly.

“What changed, Sergeant?”

“What’s that?” Kate frowns.

“What changed?” Staring at one another, fire meets water, a steam of confusion wafting up the middle to enter the air. “This isn’t how you were acting in the beginning.”

“Nothing’s changed, Ma’am,” Kyle’s feet jerk upward and his spine straightens as he leans forward in his chair, the material under him squeaking. “I…”

He cuts himself off and shakes his head. His hand goes to fix his cap. Your blood was still in the stitching, spread over that embroidered British flag like a brand. The man wonders to himself why he never bothered to wash it out.

Laswell’s scrupulous eyes miss nothing.

“You leave in one week,” she says again. “Say what you need to before then. It’s out of my hands.”

The woman gets back to her paperwork.

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

Photo

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐏 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: (Let me know if you want a separate post for a character - I’ll go into more depth). Also this is one of my favourite posts, it’s so wholesome

Inspired by @angelltheninth. Thank you for always writing such amazing posts!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

A glimpse into your life with your HP s/o.

𝐋𝐮𝐧𝐚

・Constantly forgets where she puts things

“It’s the nargles...” Luna mutters, looking underneath the couch pillows for her necklace.

“It’s not the nargles,” you reply, shaking your head.

・Always makes you late because she forgets her wand or bag

・So you create a space where she is allowed to dump her things. It actually made it a lot easier. You’ve dubbed it ‘Luna’s Space’

・Even though she can ‘Accio’ her things, she actually needs her wand to do that, and she also forgets her wand.

・Yes, there are a lot of animals in and around your household

・Luna cannot help but attract them

・And they’re usually a mix of muggle animals as well as magical animals

・Bowtruckles that like to hide in your jacket pockets, jackalope’s that like to sneak inside and fall asleep in front of the fire, a kneazle who actually bonded with you and rarely leaves your side (gets upset when you have to leave her at home)

・You cook as Luna is ghastly at making food

・But she tidies up and makes sure the fire is always burning (for some reason she’s always cold)

・Nights snuggling on the couch, sharing a big fuzzy blanket and staring into the flames,, or reading a book

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐝

・Is very messy. He leaves his clothes scattered around the place. You’ve told him that if he continues to do it then you’ll shrink his clothes.

・He respected the threat, and his clothes now live in their proper places

・Is a bit of a wiz in the kitchen -

・Until you realised that he was just enchanting everything to cook themselves

・Is quite social so there’s usually someone coming around each week (either George or Lee Jordan)

・A lot of testers for the joke shop are done at home, so if something blows up then...Fred is in big f*cking trouble

・He actually journals a LOT

・And has some really interesting ideas

・Wants to travel with you, to experience different cultures

・Ultimately he wants to learn about different forms of magic so he can incorporate it into his life and work

・You do visit Molly a lot, and sit down with her, Ginny and Hermione to discuss life

・Arthur becomes a great confidant as well. He has some great knowledge, espcially about his son

・Fred has extravagant gifts for you. They may not be expensive since he’s saving money, but he does want to make you feel special

・In terms of pets, Fred wants ones that can be useful. But sometimes you get lonely when you come home from work and he’s still at the shop

・So you’re still deciding on what you want to get...

𝐂𝐡𝐨

・Wanted to be the sole person in charge of decorating

・An apartment not too far from the heart of London

・Everything in your house is a light blue with hints of silver and a dash of purple

・Took a lot of inspiration from the beauxbatons, their uniform as well as their overall aesthetic with a hint of Ravenclaw

・Everything is very orderly and she likes things in their proper places

・For pets you both have your Hogwarts animal - hers is an owl, and you also surprised her with a completely white ragdoll kitten on her first anniversary together (she absolutely loved it)

・Cho loves to sit down with you and talk about each other’s day. What went on and such

・She’s a very touchy person so she loves when you hold her hand and cup her cheek

・She’s also in touch with her emotions and is usually the first to cry in sad situations

・Has a certain routine for her hair, and it actually does work because it is ALWAYS SHINY

・Likes board games as well

・Has a family game night with her side of the family once every two weeks

𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞

・Is surprisingly clean -

・Always picks up after himself and does a bit of spring cleaning here and there

・He picked it up from his mother; someone had to. And he was used to being the clean twin. The one who cleaned up after Fred

・His favourite meal is a full baked roast dinner. With Yorkshire puddings and loads of gravy.

・Once a week you visit the Burrow for dinner. And Molly fusses over you two, saying that you need to eat more. You always leave with a whole sack full of random items for the house. Old lamps, rolls of toilet paper, once she gave you a side table

・Fred is a constant visitor at your and George’s place. He’s almost living there himself

・There’s even been a few times where he’s gotten you groceries

・George is terrible at saying no to you, so whatever you want, you always get

・Your home is practically the Burrow - you liked the feel of George’s home so much that you did your best to recreate it but add a bit of you in as well

・George absolutely loves living with you. His heart is always full.

・Sometimes he’ll come home and Fred will be in the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry while you’re on the lounge reading, drawing or listening to music

・It’s a quiet life but George loves it. It’s a reprieve from the shop with Fred, which is always loud and chaotic

・You do visit him and he always has a beaming smile on his face when he sees you

・At home there’s a room full of packages for the joke shop. Some simply toys, others potions and oils. Do you test them out? Sure do - George is happy for you to do so

𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐲

・Grew up with everything handed to her on a silver platter

・Once she changed her view on muggles, her family basically threw her out

・Taking pity on her, and thinking the world can be better, you created a friendship. Friendship grew to relationship and that grew to love.

・So, instead of being merely roommates, you were now a couple

・She’s not the easiest person to get along with. But once you both found your flow, then you were both settled.

・Pansy forced her femininity in school, but she found that she actually preferred to take on the ‘masculine roles.

・Can’t lie magic is still a big help though, and Pansy would be absolutely lost if she was in the muggle world

・Your friends are now her friends. It took a lot of time for them to get around the idea, especially Ginny, but turns out they bonded really deeply

・When Ginny invited the both of you to the Burrow one day Pansy cried that very night

・She had never seen a family like this

・There was so much love. And Mrs Weasley was so attentive.

・One of the things that Pansy loved the most was when Mrs Weasley called her “dear”

・And you nearly cried because it’s such a little thing and Pansy never got to experience that

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲

・He wasn’t sure how you wanted to go about this

・Because Harry grew up in the muggle world, as did you, so you were both excited to find the charms that would make domestic life easier

・Like in the Burrow, where Mrs Weasley had the chores done by magic

・So you and Harry went to Hermione to find the charms (for some reason Flitwick hadn’t taught that)

・The first time you used it, you and Harry jumped up in the air and wooped. You high fived and kept doing it on different items

・It’s one of your favourite memories

・Headmaster McGonnagall comes to dinner every second Tuesday - she wanted it to be weekly but she was just too busy.

・She comes in her robes and is tight lipped when she first enters your home. But after she sits down, her demeanour changes.

・Minerva knows what she can and can’t say, but when she’s had a few wines she becomes loose-lipped

・Once she turned into her animagus and fell asleep on your lap, purring loudly

・Sometimes you have to leave the room because her and Harry have very intense conversations; you just want to give him privacy - he never wants you to leave. But you’re usually make ten minutes later with three steaming cups of tea

・You have framed pictures of Dumbledore, Hagrid and Snape hanging on the hallway walls

・His parents are in the centre on the fireplace mantelpiece

・The first night you slept in your own home, Harry cried. When you asked why, he told you a story about the Dursleys

・And then you started crying as well

𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞

・Busy lifestyle. She always has something to do, so you both split the chores 50/50 as you both work

・Things always have their place. And when they aren’t in their place Hermione does her best not to lose it

・And the house is always clean (she knows all the charms)

・The kitchen cleans itself, the bed is always made, shoes are at the front door etc

・They’re charms that are a few steps ahead of what Mrs Weasley uses (Hermione learnt them while reading of course). Once she tried to tell Mrs Weasley about them and the red-headed woman practically walked away (she thinks her way is best).

・You’ve asked Hermione to teach you everything she knows, that’s why your relationship works. You love her intelligence and knowledge.

・She isn’t that big on pets though, and has a 5 year plan

“I’m sorry Y/n, but having a pet wasn’t a part of our plan.”

“Hermione please, look at him!”

・She absolutely crumbled when you did the puppy dog eyes while holding the puppy against your face

“...okay fine, but I’m not picking up any poo.” (She most certainly did.)

・So you have beagle called Finley. And Hermione pretended to be indifferent with him for about a week, and then she fell in love

・Finley goes everywhere with you two, and Hermione’s parents are shocked when the three of you turn up to dinner

“Umm, sweetheart why-”

“This is Finley, mum and dad, please treat him with respect.”

𝐑𝐨𝐧

・He had no idea where to start when you first moved in together. He was an absolute mess

“I just don’t know what you mean by decorating! This is too stressful-”

・Has Harry around a lot. Or at least, asks him to come around a lot

・You guys go to the Burrow at least once a week for a family dinner - everyone is there, and when someone can’t attend, Mrs Weasley is nearly on the brink of tears

・After Ron gets used to the idea of living in his own place, with you. He starts to settle. He finds his routine.

・He’s usually the last one to wake up and the last to go to bed.

・Absolutely adores sweets, and keeps a whole drawer full next to his bed. In the middle of the night you’ll hear a rustle and it’s Ron opening a chocolate frog

“Aw, Dumbledore again-”

・Sends howlers to Fred and George, specifically to their shop so they’ll open them in the middle of the store

・You told Ron it was a terrible idea because they hit back 5x harder

・Harry tells Ron about television and Ron absolutely loses it, goes out and buys one the next day

・His favourite programmes are the Vicar of Dibley and Absolutely Fabulous (although pretends to hate it - turns it off whenever you come into the room),

𝐆𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐲

・So excited to move in together!!!

・Her parents are extra pushy because she’s their little girl. But they know you’ll look after her (which is true, but Ginny is the one who wears the pants in this relationship)

・A lot of Quidditch posters and books

・You have to tell her not to ride her broom in the house

・Wants to adopt ALL THE DOGS

・She’s at Quidditch practice a lot, so you usually get the things you need to get done in that time so when she comes back you can spend time together

・Ginny is always bringing you back flowers. And they’re huge bouquets. They’re different every time

・Likes to surprise you with her cooking skills because Mrs Weasley is a bit traditional that way (she didn’t teach her sons how to cook)

・Actually doesn’t cry that often and has her sh*t together most of the time

・Or she seems like she has her shit together most of the time

・Very good at remembering appointments and the like

・Didn’t care much about decorating the place, but did want it to be cosy like the Burrow

・Has little knick knacks on the kitchen window sill

・And wears gloves while she does the dishes

𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞

・I think it’s pretty obvious, but Neville’s home would be COVERED with plants. Vines growing on poles, flowers blooming across window sills,

・He waters, feeds and tends to them everyday. Not missing a single one.

・Neville is awake at about 5:30am to do all of it

・Because by that time it’s nearly 7:45 and he has to get ready for work

・Never leaves to go anywhere without giving you a kiss

・Feeds the birds but doesn’t realise that that means a whole flock will came back next time

・You go to see his parents with him at St. Mungos hospital

・And you hold him as he cries in your arms afterwards

・Has nightmares about his parents and it wakes you up in the middle of night

・You met his grandmother and although you have to give her credit for raising Neville, she was quite horrible to him.

・You’ve told Neville that you will have a go at her if she says one bad thing about him (that includes passive aggressiveness, alluding to him, or anything that could be seen as an insult)

・He loves you for it

・But still has a soft place in his heart for the woman that raised him

𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐨

・After the Battle of Hogwarts Draco’s perspective of the world changed

・He saw horrors as well as allowed horrors to happen. He felt immense guilt.

・And his relationship with his father was practically ruined

・His mother was the only parent he saw. But she still had the outlook that purebloods were the only people worthy of respect

・Draco knew he had to make amends. His conscience was heavy.

・So he went back to Hogwarts and asked the Headmistress McGonaggal how to make up for his wrong doings.

・That’s how you and Draco got together

・After some time, when your relationship was established, he moved out of the Malfoy Mansion and in with you

・It was a difficult transition, especially the fact that there was no one to wait on him hand and foot

・You taught him how to cook - or at least the charms on how to do so

・At first it was goddamn hard, but he endured

・And the look on your face when he got it right ... god ... he needed to impress you again and again. Just to see that look.

・Turns out he’s actually he very good cook. Not that great at cleaning up after himself, but luckily you live in a world of magic

・You even let him decorate wherever he wished

・He chose quite gothic dark academia style

・Rich colours; deep emerald, dark blue, burgundy, maroon

・His mother was still giving him money though-

・And you said that he should invite her over

・That first dinner was especially difficult. The look on her face when she walked in ... you could read exactly what she was thinking ‘small, ... poor, why would he give up living with me for this.’

・But the love for her son outweighed the prejudice in her heart

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linktheacehero · 3 months ago

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10 First Lines Challenge

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able to and see if there are any patterns!

Thanks for the tag @mistresslrigtar!

"His arm trembled with exhaustion, his chest heaving out heavy breaths while the beast’s tormented cries resounded in his ears, its blood gushing out from where the holy blade struck." Stay

"A decade had passed since the Hero of Time left the kingdom of Hyrule, ten years since princess Zelda had heard anything about her beloved friend." Tale of the White Devil

"Link looked up into the bright blue sky, the haunting moon grinning at him from the heavens- taunting him for the limited time he had." Notes from the Heart

"Nighttime blanketed Kakariko Village; crickets and owls lullabying the residents, the full moon guiding lost souls to their graves and bringing comfort to the children who feared the dark, while the stars decorated their stories upon the vast sky." Guide me NOTE: This fic is NSFW

"He could feel the chill night air whistling through his bones, the full moon shining behind him shadowing the woman before him." Duet of Time (collab with @aheavenscorner)

"The wind is still, the orange sky glimmering above the sea of oaks where both mystery and familiarity lived." Beneath the Stars

"The symphonic chirps of the woodland birds greeted his ears, rose and amber rays washed upon the room, tugging his senses awake." Flow of Time

"The sunset paints the sky with its orange and red hues, the wind is still as if the earth is holding their breath, only the sounds of the forest’s critters are heard." Breath life into my soul (so that I may kiss you one more time)

"The music hummed in the background, two newlyweds dressed in scarlet and navy glided across the grass like ghosts as it played." In your arms I'm home

"The sky is calm for the first time that he can remember." Sun's heart and Moon's tears (collab with @louwhose)

Looking at it all displayed out I realize how often I open with a setting lmao. Tagging @aegon-targaryen @pastelsandpining @louwhose @dubiiousfood @ladyhoneydee and anyone else who'd like to!

#zelink #oot zelink #shink #tp zelink #zelda #oot #ocarina of time #tp #twilight princess #link #sheik #my writing

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stalkerofthegods · 9 months ago

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Athena Pallas/Minerva Deep dive

To the wisest of the wise, to the goddess that tells us the wisdom, may we all cheer for her, like how men and women and all equal in war would cheer after victory.

Herbs • Olive tree, Tiger lilies, geranium, oak, cypress, Hellebore (Christmas and Lenten rose), and citrus tree, walnuts, pears

Animals• owl, snake, rooster, griffins, horses (she taught men how to tame horses), female lambs, doves (as a symbol of victory), rams, eagles, tigers, leopards, and other cats (could not find why but many were in agreement.)

Zodiac • She was mostly celebrated in June/July so I would say, Gemini, Cancer, and Leo.

Colors • gold, orange, yellow, emerald green, and royal blue

Crystal• bronze, metal, gold, silver, Azurite, Iolite, ruby, star sapphire, turquoise, lapis lazuli, ivory, Amazonite, Iolite, Bloodstone, Clear Quarterrtz, onyx.

Symbols• owls, olive trees, snakes, the Gorgoneion, golden shield, and helmet, serpents

Jewelry you can wear in their honor• you can veil in their honor

Diety of • knowledge, knowledge in war, crafting, inspiration, strategy

Patron of• Military, justice, skills, close combat, good counsel, prudent restrain and practical insight, weaving, and spinning, crocheting, the defense of towns, heroic endeavor, and protection agriculture, she is known in the arts as well with Hephaestus, protectress of the phratries and houses, authority of the law, the order in the courts and the assembly of the people, mathematics, strength, asexuality, librarians, peace, judges, protests, metalwork, birds (called the goddess of the birds), teachers

Offerings• She was sacrificed bulls, rams cows, all female except a lamb, it must be a male lamb, Locrian maidens or children are said to have been sacrificed to her every year as an atonement for the crime committed by the Locrian Ajax upon Cassandra (do not do, just here for historic offerings.), Olives, Bread, Grains, Olive oil, Cakes, Olive tree branches, Owl figurines or imagery, Silver jewelry, Honey, Milk, Books, Strategy games, Quality chess boards, Snake figurines or imagery, Fountain pens, Handmade objects, Clay items ( ex- plates, bowls, vases), Yellow and/or white candles, Yoghurt, Daggers, Swords (including small decorative versions), Devotional poems, Studying, Learning something new, Using what you learn as a way of growing and developing as a person, Standing up for yourself, Improving yourself, Owl pellets, Owl decoys for gardens,Work out clothes/gear, Fidget toys for when you’re working, Brain imagery, Spider imagery, Crafts you have made, Certificates/degrees/awards for achievements, Favorite books/books on mythos or Greece, Knitting/crocheting/crafting materials, Needles, Your glasses, Coffee/tea, Nice pens/pencils, Journals/notebooks, Voting stickers/cards, Spears/swords/daggers/helmets, Protest signs, pears, walnuts, Garlic bread, Start a small side business.

Devotional• Read a book, become a librarian as a summer job, or simply check out or return a book, join a book club, host a book club, learn Battle strategies, learn Wars and how they were won, learn What led to wars being lost, read The Art of War by Sun Tzu, learn about Politics, Democracy in Ancient Greece, learn about Armor and weapons, Catch and release spiders in your home, do Pottery, learn about Cross stitching and knitting, Tutor someone/get tutoring for areas you need help in, Watch TED talks/listen to educational podcasts, Plan out your day/keep a planner, Thinking before taking action, controlling our anger, Learn new vocab words, Make your notes pretty, Learn study techniques, Take appropriate study breaks, Do projects for Her, Challenge yourself, Learn grounding techniques, Do your homework, Give up things that are unhealthy for your brain (ex- smoking cannabis, drinking.), work out, Learn basic first aid, take CPR classes, Take care of your body, Go to protests/advocate

Ephithets• will post later, postponed due to motivational issues, will come soon.

Equivalents (alike but not the same)• neith (Egyptian), thrud (Norse), Minerva (roman), Athena (Greek)

Alter• I would not put her alter near Heaphestus, be tried to violate her in a myth, I would not put her alter near Aphrodite because they are known to not get along in myths, but things could have changed. She does work well with heroes, so if you worship Hercules or Perseus I would put her alter near them, I would not put her near Arachne and keep her alter away from spider areas, etc. Keep her altar clean and orderly. She does not like the giant Pallas, he tried to ruin her chastity.

Signs they are reaching out• Encounters with owls, olive trees, or feelings of wisdom and inspiration, seeing owls in the day, going to the library more often, staying after school.

Vows/omans• to stay a virgin forever, and to change her name

Number• 6 or 7 and 5 (I couldn't find a website that could agree.)

Morals• Morally lawful

Personality• Strong, endearing, respected, smart, confident, practical, clever, a master of disguises, and a great warrior. Brings Harvard teachers to shame.

Home• Mount Olympus

Mortal or immortal • Immortal

Fact• Some say she invented the flute, she invented the plow, and the rake, borrows tools from Zeus to do war saves people when fate counts on it, she repels Ares, some say Athena’s full name is Pallas Athena, but they say she added the name Pallas to hers after she accidentally mortally injured her friend Pallas during a practice session in her youth. Athena was seen naked bathing, she felt bad for the man, she covered his eyes and made him blind, making him an oracle.

Curses• blindness, more spiders, spilling tea, dyslexia getting harder, losing ur glasses, no one knowing who you're dressed as during Halloween, getting into fights, unjust detentions, no one showing up to class, getting fired as a teacher or librarian (unjustly), dropping books and learning stuff all of the sudden, forgetting materials that you learned on your test, your quizzes and tests get lost.

Blessings• remembering test materials, witty replies in arguments, detentions all of the sudden going away, getting into your dream college, getting into a book club, finding ur books, getting a librarian or teacher or tutor job.

Roots• Greek, near the river Triton born after or in the Titanomachy era.

Friends• Pallas (her friend growing up)

Parentage• Some say Poseidon then she went to Zeus after a dispute and became his daughter, and some say metis and Zeus, some say Hepeastus.

Siblings• Artemis, Aphrodite, the Muses, the Graces, Ares, Apollo, Dionysus, Hebe, Hermes, Heracles, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Minos, Perseus, and Porus.

Children• She does not have any romantic lovers, but she has adopted children, who are, Erikhthonios/Erichthonius.

Pet• one white and three dark horse and an owl, (she shares a chariot with Artemis)

Appearance in astral or gen• a stately woman armed with a shield and spear, and wearing a long robe, crested helm, and the famed aigis with the the Gorgon Medusa on a shield

Festivals • The cleansing Festival/Plynteria and Kallynteria Festival, the threshing festival/Skira Festival, the festival of Minerva/Minor Quinquatrus, The panatheanaea/Athena Festival, The Vintage festivalOschophoria Festival, the artisans Festival/Chalkeia Festival.

Day • she does not have any day of the week, the 23 of each month, and the first day.

Sacred places• The Parthenon on the Acropolis of Athens is dedicated to her, and Athens.

Status• Wisdom goddess, One of the major theoi and goddesses in Greek mythology

What angers her • If you stop worshiping her, I would clean up and part respectfully and know she understands, she does not like the sudden removal of an alter and the trashing of one.

The music she likes• classical and lo-fi study music.

Planet• Pallas Athene (minor planet) and the Asteroids 93 Minerva and 2 Pallas

Her Tarot cards• queen of swords, queen of wands, justice card, balance card

Remind me of• the saying “hitting the books” and someone actually throwing books, twilight from My Little Pony, Dead Trees (books)

Scents/Inscene • Patchouli, dragon’s blood, musk, indigo, orange blossom, cinnamon, and cedarwood

My opinion • She's cool.

Prayers•

Prayer To Athena by Liz “Morning Dove” La Posta

Oh, wise Athena with your spear and shield, protect me and my family from injustice and harm. Council me with your wisdom so that I may make the best decisions. Grant me success in my endeavors, but keep me humble so that I might not become condescending to others. I thank you for the many times you have guided me on my Path. Share with me your mysteries and I will do my best to follow. Athena my Goddess, I pray this in your sacred name, and I vow to always be your faithful dedicant.

Prayer to Athena for Wisdom

Clear-eyed Athena, unrivaled in wisdom, daughter of Zeus and Metis whose craft and wit excelled among the mighty Titans: Athena, I pray to you. Wise in all things you are, goddess; your cunning and guile are well known. In time of war you have no equal in tactics or in strategy; many armies have you guided to victory. In time of peace your blessings fall on those whose work is of the mind–friend of the philosopher, the scientist, the student. Advisor of kings, patron of clever heroes and bold-hearted adventurers, defender of the thinker, mistress of reason and understanding, goddess to whom a strong arm and a sharp sword are nothing without the sense to wield them well and the insight to know when words are worth more than weapons. Athena, grant me a sound mind and steady temper, bless me with good judgment, show me the long view.

Links/websites/sources •seleniangnosis https://www.theoi.com/Cult/AthenaTitles.htmlhttps://www.britannica.com/topic/Athena-Greek-mythology https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Athenahttps://www.perseus.tufts.edu/Herakles/athena.html https://www.theoi.com/Olympios/Athena.html

https://www.worldhistory.org/athena/#google_vignettehttps://greekgodsandgoddesses.net/goddesses/athena/https://olympioi.com/greek-gods/athenahttps://ilfiorello.com/athena-the-importance-of-the-name/https://www.theoi.com/Cult/AthenaTitles.htmlhttp://www.goddess-athena.org/Encyclopedia/Rituals/Festivals/index.htm ATHENA'S BIRTH ON THE NIGHT OF THE DARK MOON - JSTOR 881 Athene - Wikipedia Athena | Olympian Goddess of Wisdom | Born from Zeus SkullGoddess Gift https://www.crystalvaults.com/goddess-athena/#:~:text=Crystals%20such%20as%20Azurite%2C%20Iolite,Athena%20can%20bring%20to%20you.Athena: Greek Goddess Of Wisdom And Craftsmanshiphttps://www.museandmoonstone.com/blogs/blog/crystals-goddess-athenaThoughtCohttps://www.thoughtco.com › what...What Are the Symbols of the Greek Goddess Athena?numeralgame.64g.ruhttp://www.numeralgame.64g.ru › ...Numerology and ancient Greek myths. Pythagorean numerological number 5. Goddess Gifthttps://goddessgift.com › goddessesAthena: Greek Goddess Of Wisdom And Craftsmanship Number Seven Facts, Symbolism & Meaning - Study.com Holy And Unholy Numbers - Street Directory Athena: Greek Goddess Of Wisdom And Craftsmanshipseleniangnosis travelingthief Titanomachy Definition, Myth & Impact - Study.com Athena Siblings - 1379 Words | Internet Public Library - IPL.org Athena Justice, Mythology Tarot Enamel Pin - LitJoy Crate Inner Goddess Tarothttps://innergoddesstarot.com › go...Goddesses in Tarot: Athenahttps://www.hellenion.org/athena/prayer-to-athena/https://www.tumblr.com/tarotbee

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

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sommerregenjuniluft · 1 year ago

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@jegulus-microfic september 9 — carry — 1.6k words — mentions of sex at the end of the chapter! kinda nsfw

or; in which Regulus has a tense neck and James is so, so helpful <3

Regulus has, frankly, had enough of carrying children around for the next three of his lifetimes.

Ron has busted his knee open on the gravel outside while playing catch and is now crying? Regulus is cradling him close as he whisks back inside and playing doctor as he gets the gentle disinfectant and band-aids. Neville had a little pee accident? Regulus is carrying him to the bathrooms with outstretched arms for a change of clothes. Harry is getting into a fight with another kid over a toy situation involving being mean to Hermoine? Regulus has to swoop down and take him to the quiet room to calm him down and then talk about voicing one’s feelings or getting the help of an adult.

The frown gradually eases off his little forehead behind his round glasses as he listens to Regulus, sniffling occasionally. He has a spiderman themed patch over his left eye that Regulus finds mortifyingly adorable.

Honestly, Regulus would have quit long ago if it wasn’t for how easily these little stinkers have weaseled their ways into his heart.

Regulus is 23 and his back is a tragedy.

His joints bop and creak and the muscles in his neck are stiffer than cement at his point.

Being bent over the low desks in the tiny chairs to help the kids arts and craft the decoration for this Friday’s Halloween party is not doing him any favors either.

“Stan Lee called, he wants his wall-crawling, web-shooting superhero back!” a warm voice comes from the door to their group’s room.

Well, Regulus supposes there might be one or two more reasons besides the kids he likes his job for.

Harry groans next to him without looking up, vaguely wagging his arm in James’ direction, “Noo, daddy, I can’t go yet. I need to finish my snow owl!”

Regulus finally lets himself look up from his seat to catch James crossing his arms and leaning into the doorframe. He’s in a crimson cable knit sweater over a crisp white button down and dark gray slacks that fit inappropriately snug in all the right places.

James nods solemnly, “Right, right, because the other five snow owls taped to your bedroom window need one more for company or they’ll be lonely, huh?”

Harry sighs exasperatedly, “This one’s not coming home with us.”

James raises an eyebrow at Regulus in question, badly concealing his grin.

“These are for the party on Friday,” Regulus supplies helpfully, quickly swiping the glue from Ron before he sticks it in his mouth the fourth time today. Lily was the one to sign herself up for bringing Harry as well as brownies and lemonade so Regulus isn’t too surprised it wasn’t at the front of James’ mind.

This one shoots up then, “Oh, fu—n,” gawking at his own slip-up.

Regulus levels him with an unimpressed stare, lips twitching.

James drives his fingers through his chaotic curls, “Yeah, funny thing, I actually meant to talk to you about it, Regulus.”

A gentle shiver tingles it’s way up Regulus’ spine, “It’s Mr. Black.”

James makes a face that says obviously, “I know, love,” licks his lips to conceal the cheeky smile threatening to spill. Regulus wants to hit him. “Lily actually had something come up, and I was able to postpone a meeting so now I’m the one bringing Harry and staying for the buffet.”

Oh.

“Oh,” Regulus’ jaw might drop a bit.

James hums happily and then steals a pen out of the little basket on the table next the door, “Unfortunately I’m no good with brownies, I do however make the best fruit sticks covered in chocolate— so,” points the pen at Regulus with a grin, “Where do i sign?”

Regulus ducks his head against the flush crawling up his cheeks as he stands up, “Um— I’ll get the list.”

“Oh, no worries, Regulus,” his colleague Dorcas leers from across the table, “I’ve got the gremlins managed. I think James would be happy to head upstairs with you and while you’re at it,” Regulus already knows what’s coming as Dorcas’ smile turns overly sweet, “I’m sure he could give you a hand with my new desk chair with those big muscles of his.”

Regulus looks over at James, “You don’t have t—”

“Lead the way,” James says with a wink.

James carries the oversized carton up the stairs without breaking a fucking sweat while Regulus had taken one look at it, nudged it with a knee to see how heavy it was and then told Dorcas not a chance in hell.

Because, as established, his back is a tragedy and all that.

It’s twinging now too as he takes the thick binder out of the cabinet and drops it on top with a thunk.

Regulus tilts his neck and lets his upper spine crack with a grunt, does the same on the other side while he flicks through the papers.

James looks at him with an unnaturally blank expression when he asks, “You okay?”

Regulus rolls his shoulders to ease the tension, making a non-comical noise.

“Well, it’s no surprise you have some back pain working with children.”

Regulus chuckles humorlessly, flicking a glance James’ way, “What are you, a physio-therapist?”

“Oh,” a smug chuckle that has Regulus turning warily, “Close enough.”

Regulus crosses his arms in front of his chest and waits for him to elaborate.

James cocks his head, mimics his stance and waits him out patiently.

Regulus has half the mind to kick him.

Asks, with an eyeroll that’s nearly painful, “Well, what’s your occupation?”

“I’m a chiropractor.”

“Oh, you’re kidding.”

“Am not, today might just be your lucky day.”

Regulus considers that for a moment.

He could easily shrug it off as a joke. Roll his eyes once more, hand James the damn list to jot down his name and stupid, sexy chocolate covered grapes and strawberries and god knows what else and then kick him the fuck out and back down to collect Harry and have him on his merry way.

He could do that.

Should, probably.

It’s just that his neck really fucking aches and it’s even gotton to the point of disturbing his sleep the past few days.

Regulus sighs, “I don’t have any cash on me right now.”

James snorts, “I didn’t expect you to pay me, love.”

Regulus worries his bottom lip between his teeth for another moment.

“C’mon you look stiff as a board,” James nods his chin at him and Regulus turns dutifully but not without another eyeroll.

James steps closer and immediately draws his left palm up over his back, thumb tracking his spine. “I’m warning you though, these babies have it in them,” digs the pads of his strong fingers into Regulus’ shoulders for enunciation.

Regulus blames what comes out of his mouth next on the mind boggling spice of James’ cologne, “I’m good with hard.”

The hands twitch against Regulus for a moment and he hears a noise that sounds like James is running his tongue along his teeth behind his lips.

Voice husky and breath tickling Regulus’ dark curls, “Alright,” a hand running down Regulus’ spine as a thumb digs into a pressure point in his neck, “Good to know.”

James seems to mostly palpate the hotspots of Regulus cramped muscles and the places of where joints would have to be realigned.

Body heat warm from behind and palms thorough as he kneads Regulus’ hard muscles and puts pressure along where he scans for more issues.

When he circles back to his neck and uses both his hands on one side Regulus can’t help but groan, shivering involuntary.

James makes a small cooing noise, “Yeah, I know, I’m sorry, I'm sorry.”

Regulus pants a breath, shakes his head feebly, “Mm, you’re good.”

“This doesn’t look too good, love,” James voice rumbles, closer to Regulus’ ear now.

Regulus hisses at the sting when James releases the muscle and goes over to the other side. His mouth drops open and he whines too loudly when James picks back up with his administrations.

“Regulus,” if he was less caught up the unforgiving press of his fingers Regulus maybe would have noticed how strangled James sounded.

He works him dutifully through the other side and then slides his palms past Regulus’ shoulder blades and rests them at the dip of his back for a lingering second before gently squeezing at his waist.

Prompts Regulus into turning around and coming to face the other man again.

His lips look a bit redder than Regulus remembers.

“Well, that’s all I can do for now without my office massage table,” James rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly.

Regulus rolls his shoulders out and notes with satisfaction how much looser he feels already, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, love,” James replies with a smile so warm Regulus melts a bit around the edges.

He feels embarrassingly gooey.

James ends up filling out the sheet and then leaving with Harry five minutes later.

When he shows up Friday noon he’s clad in ridiculously tight pants again and a ridiculously orange pumpkin jumper. Also cat ears for some reason.

Lily is able to join for a few minutes at the end, watching Harry perform the trick or treating song they had the kids learn and then taking him home.

James ends up staying to help clean up.

He feeds Regulus one of the last chocolate covered fruit sticks—grape, strawberry and blueberries, honey melon and peaches.

Regulus ends up blowing James for it, turning him into a groaning, whimpering mess as he sucks his heavy cock into the back of his throat and James retaliates by realigning his spine in a very non-chiropractor way.

They crush the rest of Molly’s blueberry muffins while they’re at it.

#god im so tired #wrote the last bit barely conscious #suddenly they were fucking?#lol #gnight guys<3 #jegulus microfic #jegulus fic #jegulus #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter x regulus black #regulus black x james potter #lune’s tiny fic

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thevelria · 1 year ago

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Pumpkin guy (canon!Gojo x barista!fem!reader) (SFW)

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Author's note: This was a request from a lovely reader on Wattpad. I really enjoyed this cafe <3 Thank you for my lovely @ladycheesington for proofreading it <3

warnings: no warnings, pure fluff

wordcount:1.3K

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Autumn finally sneaked in and kicked Summer out. This part of the year was your thing. You were excited to bring all the decorations up from the basement. After all, it was going to be Halloween soon. (It wasn’t but you were too excited to wait any longer.)

This Sunday evening seemed to be perfect for a little organization in your lovely home. Because even if you lived alone it didn’t mean you were sad or lonely. With a smile on your face you precisely placed all the spooky figures at their usual spots.

“It looks nice, doesn’t it?” you giggled as you asked your kitty cat, Sir Sunflower. The little black furball purred and rubbed his head against your ankle, so you took it as a yes.

Even if Monday morning arrived sooner than you expected, you felt happy. The second your feet touched the wooden floor in your bedroom you remembered that it is THAT day. The day when you change the menu in the cafe and replace all the Summer offers with Autumn ones. The light morning breeze danced on your skin as you were walking down the street to your workplace.

Humming a cute song you started to clean the tables and the counter, thinking about how perfect that morning was. So far.

The tiny bell above the entrance sang its song, warning you of the arrival of the first customer of this beautiful day. It seemed your customers were just as excited about this day as you were.

People kept arriving, ordering different kinds of Autumn themed drinks and sweets. Soon enough almost all the tiny tables and cozy couches were taken. Chit-chatting echoed through the place as people kept being excited.

You were almost at the end of your shift when the tiny bell rang once again and a crystal white haired man with a pair of sunglasses walked in lazily. The second he flashed his mesmerizing blue eyes you froze in your action. You had no idea when, if ever, you'd seen such beautiful eyes for the last time.

“Good evening, sir. What can I get for you?” you greeted him with a lovely tone.

“Good evening, beautiful.” he smiled. “I would like a pumpkin latte, please.”

“Sure. Anything else?”

“Your phone number.” he flashed a smirk.

Your eyes widened and a tint of light pink rushed upon your cheeks. Okay, it would have been a lie to tell that no one ever tried to flirt with you but this felt somehow different. It felt different, because you found him extremely attractive. Even if you screamed inside you acted out cool and simply pretended you didn’t hear anything. As you spun on your heels and started to prepare his order, Gojo lifted his weight from one of his legs to another.

A strange feeling caught your attention, as if someone was staring at you. And oh, you were right. He couldn’t resist fixating his angelic eyes on your back and followed your whole presence, checked your beautiful silky hair and even smiled at the cute hair clip you wore. It was a tiny brown-orange owl that perfectly fit the whole Autumn environment. He also let his eyes fall on your curves, your perfect waist and wonderful hips. Your uniform suited you well enough, giving a perfect sight of your round bum. The man took a desperate breath. His intentions weren’t only sexual, he felt as he walked in and spotted you that he had to make you his girl, no matter what.

This feeling terrified him just as much as it made him excited. Gojo Satoru wasn’t a dating type of guy. He rather focused on his job, on his duty. Saving people from curses wasn’t the easiest work to do after all.

The lively sound of the coffee machine made you zone out. You were hesitating. It was a dilemma you never really felt before. Should you? Shouldn’t you? Is it against the policy at all? You had no idea. The hot liquid pouring into the cup and the light beeping sound snapped you back to reality. Before you could have changed your mind you grabbed the black marker and hurryingly wrote your number on the paper cup.

“Thank you.” he smiled at you. He was about to leave a cheeky comment when your coworker stepped next to you behind the counter.

“I got this, Y/N.” they put their hand on your shoulder. “Your shift is over, go enjoy your afternoon.”

Gojo thanked you for the lovely service once again, before he walked to the door and let a gush of wind caress his face as he stepped outside. “Y/N…” he hummed. “Such a beautiful name.”

He got back to the facility and aimed for his room. The coffee was gone a long ago but he carefully placed the cup onto his desk until he saved your number.

Before getting home you stopped at the grocery store. A half full cart you pushed around as you kept picking the items you needed. Actually you just tried to distract your mind from the fact you gave your number to a stranger and for some inexplicable reason you wanted him to reach out. Finally you left the store with four or five huge bags which were heavier than you expected. A loud huff left your mouth when you finally got home. Being busy with packing out from the bags you didn’t hear the buzzing noise of your phone. It was buried deep in your bag.

“C’mon. At least read my messages, sweetheart.” Gojo frowned, tapping his fingers eagerly on his desk. It wasn’t like him at all. The sorcerer was always confident, no doubt ever was able to sneak into his mind until today. You were different. You were unique. You were special.

A loud gasp rolled from your throat when you realized the amount of new messages. Of course you knew exactly who the other side of the unknown number was but you wanted to tease him just a little bit.

“Hey. Who’s this?” you sent the text, giggling.

“Oh, so I wasn’t the only one who got your number today?” your phone buzzed almost immediately.

“Pumpkin guy? Is it you?” you kept teasing.

“My name is Gojo Satoru.”

You clicked your tongue before reacting. “I like Pumpkin guy better.” You even added an emoji with its tongue out. You found yourself chuckling and kicking your feet like you were a teenage girl once again. This feeling was decent, made you happy and free. It was easy to get addicted to this euphoria.

As the night went on you both kept texting each other, chatting and flirting until you fell asleep.

In the morning you woke up before your alarm went off. It was strange but as soon as your eyes shot open you felt excited and grabbed your phone, smiling immediately when you saw the unread messages from Satoru. He kept texting you way after you fell asleep, and wishing you a good night in the end.

You bit your lower lip before you sent the message “Good morning, handsome.” The three little dots appeared almost in an instant which made you feel nervous. But it was the sweet kind of nervousness, the one when you are so excited you can’t really handle it.

“So, I’m not the Pumpkin guy, anymore? Will you call me my real name as well?”

“Well, you have to earn it.” you smiled as the game of texting started once again.

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