#wiggles x reader

[machveil]

thinking about John MacTavish not understanding why you find him so attractive when he’s wearing multiple layers when you first start dating. like, what do you mean? none of his muscles are out on display for you! his tattoo? what about his tattoo! don’t you go nuts for his legs when wears shorts? why do you always paw him when he’s wearing a t-shirt and a thick hoodie? he can understand your fondness for him in sweatpants, but, like, all the layers?

and then it clicks for him when he sees you snotty and sick. miserably sweating, but freezing cold. bundled up with one of his thick ass hoodies, swimming in its soft fabric, a thick blanket around your shoulders. fuzzy socks and baggy sweatpants, trying your best to keep warm. he’s cooing ‘poor you’s while trying to slip his hands under his your hoodie, ignoring you when you say he’ll get sick right before kissing you. you’re all hot and cozy, and don’t worry! he doesn’t mind the sweat - if anything, it gives him a reason to corral you into the shower. of course he can’t let you shower alone, what if you get dizzy? he should really be in there with you for safety

[justporo]

Ok random and very self-indulgent idea that I just had and need to write down because I will forget falling asleep otherwise:

What if, like a hundred years after Tav passed and Astarion went on without them, still mourning them, he goes on to become famous? Not really your knight in shiny armour but like he becomes sort of a legend, an icon people talk about, make artworks for, write stories and ballads about (very much like this fandom tbh).

And there's this one young, really dedicated elven artist that keeps painting him - over and over again, to a point where they are actually known for their works of Astarion. This young artist has simply been smitten by the vampire since like... forever. Since they could think because they just can't get them out of heir head, for whatever reason.

And finally at one point they meet. Of course Astarion is flattered, the artist is starstruck and coy. They cross paths again more often, becoming a kind of unlike friends because they do actually like each other.

But there is something more about them Astarion finds, a haunting familiarity. It's in the way they look at him, how they angle their head or laugh.

And with a bit of shock Astarion realises: it's you, it's the love of his life reincarnated.

Because soulmates will always find each other again. You just don't remember it yet.

[sh1-n0bu]

saw the simpsons meme and i just KNOW that a certain elf would be the type to joke like it

legolas or glorfindel, turning to their human s/o with drooped ears, holding up a paper: “are you 🍃ing me?”

[name], said human s/o, used to their dramatic ways: no, i’m not leaving you. we’re staying married until we die or set sail to valinor

legolas or glorfindel, quickly scribbling on the back of the paper before showing it to [name] with wiggling ears: “what a re🍃”

[simonrileysfavteacup]

Simon From The Wiggles

Pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x wife!reader

Word Count: 632

Warnings: dad!simon, mom!reader, simon's first born son being named tommy after his brother, fluff

Summary: Coming home after a mission to his favourite people in the world, Simon experiences one of the best moments of his life.

(this is the guy being spoken about)

Simon had been off on a mission for a month or so, practically crawling to get back to you and your son, Tommy. The little bugger had just surpassed 10 months and he had began babbling. He was the most adorable thing and you both loved him to death. He was the light in the dark for Simon, much like you were the sun to his rain. 

When he finally did step back into your home, he immediately heard giggles coming from the living room. Tommy’s sweet little giggles. His babbling too, echoing throughout your house. He stripped off his gear, leaving everything by the door, including his mask. Simon stepped into the living room in just his compression shirt and tactical pants, smiling at the sight of you sitting on the ground, holding Tommy on your lap. 

The little boy’s eyes light up at the sight of his father, kicking his legs to get to him. Poor guy still doesn’t understand how walking works. Simon smiles, bending down to take the boy into his arms, tossing him up into the air and catching him again like a ball, just how he likes. 

You stand up, pressing a kiss to Simon’s cheek, smiling. “Hi honey, welcome home.”

He grins, “Hi lovie. You both have fun withou’ me?”

“Lots,” you nod at Tommy, nudging him with your nose. “Ain’t that right, bubba?”

The little boy giggles and fills the house with his little babbles. The sight makes Simon’s heart flutter. 

“Why don’t you two sit down, huh? I’m gonna go get started on dinner,” you kiss Tommy’s temple and Simon’s cheek. 

You head into the kitchen, preparing dinner. 

Simon sits down with Tommy, placing the little boy on his lap as he turns the tv volume back up. 

There’s these 3 guys, in different coloured shirts–blue, purple, and red–singing, with a girl in a yellow dress, bow in her hair. They look Simon’s age. He chuckles. Tommy’s face lights up, squealing.

“Mi-mom!” The boy babbles. 

Simon blinks. He does a double take. “What you sayin’, bubby?”

The boy giggles, still staring at the screen. He claps his hands, “Mi-mon!” 

It’s more audible this time too. But Simon still hears what he heard before.

“Lovie! He said i’! He said his firs’ word! My name! Lovie!” he shouts. 

You poke your head back into the living room. “Really?”

“Yeah! Say it agai’, bubby! Come on!” Simon’s voice is filled with excitement.

“Mi-mon! Mi-mon! Mi-mon!” Tommy claps and giggles at the top of his lungs. 

“Damn it, bubby. You ruined the surprise,” you shake your head. 

Simon furrows his brows in confusion. Why aren’t you excited like he is? Your first child just said his first word!

“Whadya mean, lovie? ‘his is amazin’!” Simon tosses his baby boy into the air. “My name!” 

“He wasn’t referring to you, Si,” you bite your lip to hold back a giggle. “One of his favourite characters in that show is called Simon…he said his name 2 days ago…I was going to surprise you.”

“What? What show?” Simon remains confused. 

“Simon…from…the wiggles…”

“‘M sorry, lovie, what the fuck did you jus’ say?” 

“The red guy on the tv, that’s him…” 

“The old guy? Tommy loves ‘im?” 

“Mhm.” 

The little boy in question is kicking to get back to the tv. 

“I’m sorry, honey…I know you were super excited and you should still be! His first word was Simon! We can tell people it was for you!” 

“Lil bugger,” Simon nudges his son. “Say it again.”

The boy giggles, not yet understanding his father. 

“Si, it’s a good thing, right?” you smile. 

“‘Course, lovie, he’s gonna be talkin’ soon, and he’ll be able to say daddy,” Simon tickles the boy. “Ain’t that right, Mi-mon?” 

Tommy’s eyes light up. “Mi-mon!” 

[cheolism]

hello my beloved jupiter i would like to peek at the kinkiest jun thots inside ur brain pretty please 🤓

THE SCENT OF YOU

✰ wen junhui x reader ✷ wc is approx 1.5k ✰ warnings: nsfw! salirophilia and olfactophilia (attraction to the state of being dirty; attraction to body odor/scent). ✷ notes: based off of that one thing napoleon allegedly wrote to his wife asking her not to bathe before he came home. thank you mars (@onlymingyus) and junie for helping me w the names of the kinks!!

i.

jun wakes up to the uncomfortable feeling of being terribly warm.

the summer sun blazes through the bedroom windows, peering through the blinds and casting its light. the aircon kicks on in the next room, the box fan -- set on top of a dining room chair jun had dragged into the room -- whirling gently, casting a slight breeze onto jun's face.

he's still unbearably hot.

the two of you had gone to bed at midnight, the temperature dropping considerably compared to what it had been that afternoon. you turned the aircon to the perfect temperature; jun switched on the fan. he tucked the duvet around your figure, giggling alongside you as you wiggled your toes underneath. and then he had ducked underneath the covers, pressing his body to yours and tucking his face into your neck.

naturally, cursedly, time crawled on as the two of you slept and eventually the sun rose into the sky, coloring it a lovely blue. the room had heated up, despite the aircon doing its best, and so jun woke with his shirt sticking uncomfortably to his arms and his mind hazy with heat.

irritated, he throws off the duvet and swings his feet over the edge of the bed. he had stopped cuddling you sometime in the night, and perhaps that is why he's truly pissed.

he checks the temperature outside -- eighty-seven fahrenheit, what the fuck -- and then adjusts the thermostat. the aircon kicks back on, and he stumbles back into the bedroom.

you're frowning at him from the bed, lips in a pout and brow pinched. "why'd you leave?"

jun jumps back into the bed, throwing the duvet back over his figure and latching onto you. "was hot," he explains, and then he's ducking his face to press it against your neck.

his nose nuzzles into the baby hairs at the back of your neck, breathing. his hand settles onto your hip, and then he's sliding his fingers underneath the waistband of your boxers. jun doesn't do anything more, just keeps his fingers against your skin, warm from your body.

he presses his face against you, lips skimming over your warm skin. you're wearing a tank top, and he thinks, faintly, that just like the boxers the tank top is his.

you sigh as his mouth dips to your collar. he presses his lips against your skin, pushing his tongue out and feeling the hard bone hidden beneath.

he moves again. jun presses his face into the valley between your tits, concealed by the tank top. it's hot there, heat radiating off of your tits and trapped beneath the tank top, which in turn was covered by the duvet.

you're hot there, and when jun noses along the gentle curve of one of your tits he can smell you.

it's the smell that comes from sleep and heat. it's a smell that is so inherently, distinctly you. it's the smell of your soul, he thinks, his dick beginning to swell in his boxers and his fingers twitching down down down, until the tips of them are touching the hairs of your cunt.

"junnie," you hum, reaching out and looping an arm around him. he catches a whiff of that gentle scent of sleep and heat, and then he's mouthing at your tits through the fabric and settling his hand against your pussy.

ii.

"i'll be home late," you murmur into your phone. he can hear the noise of the conference through his phone speaker. you had told him, before you left, to prepare for as much; had, optimistically, said that it would be over at four but seungkwan had booked a room with a karaoke machine so you may end up staying longer.

"are you having fun?" jun asks, bracing against the counter with his free hand and glancing over the ingredients he had set out. he'll have to put the pork back into the fridge, package the chopped veggies and hope they'll be as fresh tomorrow. really, though, it's for the best; he's low on egg roll wrappers and doesn't know if he'll have enough for a full meal.

"yeah," you say, and he can hear the smile in your voice. it's like bottled sunshine, the way it seems to settle within him and lighten his soul. "we got free pens."

"holy shit," jun says, and you laugh. eventually, though, you hang up; he can hear seungkwan scolding you for being on your phone during a company conference before you manage to end the call.

jun packs away the veggies and pork, snapping the lids onto the plastic container and stacking them in color order in the fridge.

he throws two packets of ramen on the counter; checks on the rice in the cooker. with thirty minutes left for the rice to be done, he leaves the kitchen and begins wandering about the apartment.

there's a sock in the hall. he swoops down, grabbing it and balling it into his fist. he rounds into the bedroom, and he begins picking up your discarded sleep clothes.

he throws your shirt over the crook of his arm — it once belonged to choi seungcheol, but the man had left it in jun's gym bag when he borrowed it once and so it had been put into rotation as a sleep shirt for the both of you. you wore your own panties and shorts to bed, and he picks up those, too.

they're one of your favorite pairs. they’re on the side of nearly too-raggedy, the elastic loose around your hips. jun remembers the first time he saw you wear them, nearly two years ago; remembers how he had pulled them down your thighs; how they had been soaking wet from your cunt, how he hadn’t been able to resist the urge to bring them up to his nose and —

jun presses his thumb into the flat seat of your panties, stretching them. whatever wetness that may have been there from your cunt had long dried. he can see the faint bleaching from your fluids on your panties. 

he lifts your panties up to his nose; breathes in. he smells you, still, hours later. jun can smell yoru essence, the very fabric of your being. slowly jun slides his hand down his stomach, fingers gliding over the veins of his hips and following down down down. 

iii. 

you look, jun thinks, absolutely destroyed. 

the half-assembled desk still takes up a majority of the second bedroom, metals bars sticking straight up and wooden surface flat against the floor. you’ve paused the music you had been blaring for the past hour, staggering into the living room with your phone in hand and a scowl on your face. 

“you want help?” jun calls, setting his own phone flat onto his bare stomach and stretching. 

“i can do it,” you snap, dropping your phone onto the lazyboy. your hair is pulled up off of your neck, strands escaping and flying about. your face gleams from sweat and your natural oils. you’re wearing a baggy shirt and pants, and when you lift an arm to grab at the ceiling fan string, he can see a patch of sweat on the armpit of your shirt. 

you are destroyed; you had attempted to build the desk and came out of it sweaty and ruined, pissed and unsatisfied. 

jun pats his thighs, sitting up a bit. you huff, and then you’re waddling over to him. you throw your leg over him, knee digging into the cushions as you settle back on him. 

your jaw drops, and you reach back and slap his thigh. “what the fuck are you hard about?”

“you’re beautiful,” jun says, taking you in once more. you’re messy and sweaty, and he wants you. 

his hands go to your thighs, settling. he smoothes his hands over your sweatpants, grabbing, groping, feeling you. 

you roll your eyes. jun moves up, wrapping his arms around your body to keep you in his lap. he presses his face into your neck, and you groan something out about being too hot for this. he can smell your sweat, your stink; he can feel his dick swell in his pants, can feel it strain and want. 

“wen junhui —”

jun pushes his tongue out, sliding it against your skin and tasting the salt of you. you let your head fall to the side, and jun slides a hand into your hair, feeling how hot and sweaty they are at the very start of them. it takes some shifting to get your sweatpants down your thighs, to tuck them under your knees and give him some space, but he does. 

and then jun is shoving his hand against your cunt. it’s hot and sweaty here, too, just like he had hoped. he can feel, through your underwear, how wet you are. the cloth near the elastic, damp from sweat; the cloth covering your cunt wet from your juice. 

jun pushes back again, and then your shoulders are against the cushions and he’s between your thighs. he pulls your sweats and underwear the rest of the way down your legs, discarding them next to the couch. jun lowers himself, pressing his face against your hot, sweaty cunt and breathing in. 

[mikichko]

combustible - highly flammable, easy to burn cw: gn!reader, avoidant reader, angst (?), somewhat comfort (its comfort to ME), all lower case a/n: a self-analysis. but if y'all catch strays that's not on me... also been a while since I've written so be gentle with me please

he's sixteen when the cat skitters from him the first time.

he's familiar with the pattern of an animal seeking shelter, some refuge from the cruel hands of the world. he's seen her test the limits and bounds of their steps, slinking around the garden as she tries to find safety.

he also knows she skitters the fastest and furthest away the second something unfamiliar breaches her space. first sign of discomfort and she's gone. it takes her days to return.

he wonders if she knows of the cruelty within the house. she must. ears as keen as hers have heard tommy's shuddering breath, he's sure of it.

and yet, the crashing inside never spooks her.

but somehow, his initial steps towards her always did.

simon still remembers the drop in his stomach, guilt cooling the pit of it, as he saw her galloping away. her hind legs coming between her front paws, moving so fast her front paws didnt even have a chance to come off the ground. he'd felt sick watching her scramble away from him. the nausea at her departing figure felt worse than the dread of returning inside.

so he'd sucked in a breath and stepped back behind the sliding door. whatever was waiting for him was better than disturbing her peace.

who was he to disturb the semblance of safety she'd worked so hard to find. slinking from alley to alley until she ended here. he at least had his own hands to ward off blows with. she didn't even have the dignity of that.

it took her days to come back. every day she was absent turned his stomach. shame weighed down his steps until he took the time to set up hidden food and water bowls to greet her. it was the least he could do for her. food and fresh water to greet her when she deemed it safe to return. a small token to let her know the space is hers, safely provided to her no matter what.

she'd still back away when she saw him at the door. half a bite of food falling from her mouth as she spotted him, slinking back instinctively.

but simon makes no move to open the door. he just watches her behind the safety of the glass.

they're locked together before she blinks quickly, assuring he's still standing behind the glass before returning to her food bowl.

it's a few more days of this before she turns to him, closing her eyes ever so slowly and then, turning her back to him.

simon can't help the smile that spreads across his face, warmth blooming in his chest as he feels genuine joy for the first time in a while.

gradually, she eases up. she even allows him to stand outside with her, at a distance. a few more weeks of this and she tentatively slinks between his legs as he freezes. doesn't even breathe to spook her away as she scents him, marking him as hers.

patience yields results and on sunny days she's curled up on his lap while he enjoys a hot cuppa.

this is why he blames himself when you run.

he'd breached the boundary too quickly, pushed too hard against the ease of the relationship you'd built. he hadn't meant to, but he'd seen he change in your gait. had noticed how you'd started to hide parts of yourself that he'd been privy to. the clothes didn't change, but your laughter did. dimmed down, clipped and short, just long enough to fool others but simon knew you better.

he sees you transform before his eyes, a version that had existed only before he knew you. hardened by the winds that had eroded your softness.

you'd erected walls for refuge. necessary to ward the winds intent on toppling you, though it had the unintended consequence of keeping kindness at bay. unable to feel it through the stone.

yet, simon had been granted access within the concrete barriers. privy to what was withheld from others.

and he'd pushed his luck.

he'd known some conversation were likely to push at you, irritate the way skin does when it rubs against itself, but you'd held strongly through it all. in the end, it wasn't a specific conversation that triggered your retreat, but the culmination of it all.

he'd watched how you'd clammed up. laughter dying on your lips as the realization dawned on you.

you were overexposed, overly comfortable, and unprotected.

your things were gone the next day.

his side table clear of anything of importance to you. small traces of of you through out his apartment, in the crevices, just enough to keep him off your scent. to prevent him from becoming alarmed.

he's a damn good soldier though. better at understanding when someone's got the urge to run with no intention of coming back. exceptional at finding people.

he gives you two days.

no messages or calls, all so you can breathe a little easier. work yourself out of state of mind you'd found yourself in. to no longer feel bare and exposed.

then, he shows up at your coffee shop. orders your drink, his drink, and waits.

the baristas know him by now, and they know you're his keeper. at least, that's what's been floating around amongst the regulars. so when you approach the counter seeking some liquid energy they simply gesture towards simon.

you're an expert at hiding yourself from others, so your face of neutrality never wavers. but simon isn't any other person, he knows better.

he sees the small, sharp inhale through your nose, the tightening grip around your phone, your other hand twitching against your leg. you're unhappy, but not angry.

he'll give you your space, he'll never deny you that, but he'll always be near. watching you from behind the glass while you get comfortable again. until you're able to have your back to him, to let your fingers graze the back of his.

until you find yourself curled into his side again.

he's willing to wait.

you eye him as you take a seat across from him, body uncharacteristically rigid.

"just a cup of coffee. take your time with it, i'm not in a rush love. i'll be here"

@wraithdance pspspspsps

[getonite]

imagine pining satoru's legs and playing with his clit. like he knows damn well he can get out of your hold, but he lets you pinch, pull, and smack his clit till its swollen and his pussy is drooling on the sheets.

[nonranghaes]

mentions: food + chris is implied to be slightly older than reader + mentions of reader having chubby cheeks.

sometimes your boyfriend simply chooses to be your biggest tormentor. exhibit a: he’s been teasing you about the (’cute’ in his words) way you eat strawberries for the past several minutes.

“i’m just saying!” he says with a laugh, watching you from the couch. “you’re just so cute about it!”

you still don’t get it, and he hasn’t elaborated in the slightest. you think it might be in the same way he finds his other friends closer to your age cute when they so much as breathe sometimes--like felix. then again, you’ve seen the way felix acts sometimes, and it is, indeed, cute. but all you’re doing is eating some strawberries you cut the tops off of, and you aren’t doing it any cuter than how a person normally eats strawberries. you’re literally just eating them. simple as that.

you pick up the bowl and move over to sit with him instead. “just try to explain.”

and he manages to quell his giggles as he hugs the pillow he’s been holding tighter against his chest. “okay,” he says. “you love strawberries.”

this is a fact. most people know it about you, but you’d say they’re probably your favorite fruit--or among the top of your list if nothing else.

“so you get this really cute look on your face when you eat a really good strawberry,” he says. “also... these,” he reach out, pinching one of your cheeks, and he chuckles again when you grimace. “automatically make you cute. it’s like when jisung eats and his cheeks puff out.”

you swat at his hand, “so you’re saying i look like a squirrel.”

“no!” he laughs, “i’m saying all of it just makes you... cuter.” he paws through the air until he catches your hand in his. “it’s like when you say i’m cute.”

“because you are!”

“i don’t get it--you say it when i’m not even doing anything!”

“because you’re cute!”

he giggles, pulling the bowl of strawberries aside as he ditches the pillow in favor for you. “then i guess,” he places the quickest peck against your lips, eyes crinkling as he smiles hard, “we just have to agree that we’re both cute.” 

even if you don’t get it... you think you can agree to that one.

[anto-pops]

The Promise of Tomorrow - Sebastian Sallow x Female! Reader

Summary: “As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sebastian attending the Yule Ball together before he whisks you away to the Room of Requirement to do exactly what you might think.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, Garreth wearing Aunt Tessie's robes

This was HEAVILY inspired by @sallowly 's Yule Ball animation which can be found here ! The dress/Sebastian's suit are directly referenced from her work. I'm eternally grateful for being given the chance to build off of her creation ♡

The full fic can also be found here on Ao3 as per usual

“What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” 

Sebastian gaped openly at Garreth, internally fighting the laugh that threatened to spill forth from his mouth despite his best efforts to smother it. The Gryffindor was decked out in quite possibly the most atrocious set of dress robes he’d ever seen, and judging by the look on the red-head’s face, he knew it too. It was frilly and lined with lace, and the material looked like a curtain that had been snagged off a window and stitched into something resembling clothes. 

Garreth’s face contorted into a pained expression, chancing a look down at himself and curling his hands into loose fists. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“I’m sure you don’t,” Sebastian remarked, lifting his glass to his lips in a bid to hide his growing smile. “Can I guess? Please let me guess–”

“No,” came his flat reply. 

“What is it?” Ominis asked curiously, turning away from the long table of finger foods to join in the conversation. Unlike Weasley, he looked like the epitome of poised finesse in his dark, tailored suit. “Whatever it is, it smells old.” 

“Oh, it looks old too. Seriously, where on Earth did you find such an antique?” Sebastian teased, and Garreth’s eyes made a full trip around their sockets before he waved off the jab. 

“Ha ha, very funny. If you must know, these have been in the Weasley family for years–” 

“Clearly.” 

“Oh would you shut up? I get it, believe me, I know. My mother wouldn’t let me get away with not wearing them though, she kept pestering me about ‘tradition’ and a bunch of other pointless nonsense. I was fighting a losing battle trying to convince her otherwise.” 

Ominis chuckled softly under his breath and twirled his wand idly between his fingers, “And you didn’t think to just change into something more fitting of the nineteenth century because…” he trailed off, the question hanging silently in the air. 

Garreth grumpily shoved his hands in his pockets and frowned, looking over his shoulder towards the massive entryway leading into the Great Hall. Professor Weasley was standing watch, ushering students in with practiced ease, and when she caught sight of her nephew staring, her smile was enough to give away precisely why the Gryffindor had been forced to endure his family's horrendous dress code. “My aunt would rat me out in a second if I did. Look, can we just forget about the hideous outfit already? I need a drink.” 

Sebastian had half a mind to offer Garreth the stolen flask of Firewhiskey tucked away in his suit, but he was honestly more inclined to save it for himself. Unbeknownst to his friends, he was wound tighter than a spring, the anticipation coursing through his veins causing him to shake his leg to dispel the nervous jitters he’d been dealing with since arriving. While he’d gone on plenty of dates with you in the last few years, this would be the first time the two of you attended something so formal as a couple. Asking you to the Yule Ball had nearly put him in the ground with how anxious he’d been– but attending the dance together was a completely different story. 

He wanted the night to go perfectly. 

His expectations were driving him up the damn wall. If there was one thing Sebastian hated more than anything, it was surprises, and that’s exactly what tonight was. One giant, looming unknown that had him thinking circles around himself. Dancing wasn’t the issue– he was great at that. It wasn’t even the hundreds of prying eyes that would be glued to you both when you eventually arrived, because he was more than used to the attention that came with dating the Hero of Hogwarts. 

No, Sebastian was simply nervous to finally put his long awaited plan into action. 

Everything was already set up in the Room of Requirement for later, so all he had to do was make it through the bulk of the evening without combusting or making a fool of himself. He could do that… right?

“Your nerves are showing, Sebastian,” Garreth teased as he leaned over the endless selection of food and drinks. His green eyes were crinkled in amusement as he observed the nonstop tapping of the brunet’s foot, and Ominis hummed in agreement. 

“I’ve been listening to him fidget for the last twenty minutes. I don’t know why girls take so long to get ready– I’m tempted to go and find his date so he’ll finally relax.”

Garreth laughed, and in the split second following, Sebastian saw his eyes land on something over his shoulder and widen comically. “No need for that… damn.” 

Nothing could have prepared Sebastian for the sight that graced him when he turned around. 

There you were, looking equal parts ethereal and powerful. Your dress was like nothing he had ever seen before; it was the darkest, most striking shade of black, rippling around your legs as though it were made of liquid as you strode through the arched doorway with your head held high. Embroidered down the side and along the strapless neckline were tiny gold leaves that reflected against the candles floating overhead, giving you a regal appearance that put even Ominis to shame. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but Sebastian swore that as you walked further into the room, some of the leaves from your dress trailed behind you and dissipated into shimmering dust. 

You twisted your hands together nervously as your eyes scanned the massive crowd, searching for the one person who could make existing in such an overwhelming environment bearable. Sebastian’s legs started to move of their own accord, carrying him away from the table and closer to you at the same time your neck swiveled in his direction, and the way your entire face lit up when you spotted him imbued him with the confidence that he’d been lacking minutes prior. 

Everything else was muted during those tentative seconds it took him to reach you, and once he came to stop in front of you with his drink still loosely gripped in his hand, it was as if no one else existed within the cavernous ballroom– only the two of you. For a moment, all he could do was stare with his mouth hanging open like a fish. The flush that spread across your cheeks had his heart doing acrobatics in his chest, and he swallowed around the lump in his throat before setting his glass down on an empty platter floating by. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, flashing him an easy smile in an attempt to conceal your timorous demeanor. He didn’t need to know that you’d spent five minutes outside with Poppy talking you off the metaphorical ledge and fanning you frantically with her hands. 

“Hey,” he replied, instantly cringing at the dry greeting. He quickly added, “I don’t think words can do you justice, if I’m being honest. You look otherworldly, darling.”

Sebastian’s words did wonders to school your nerves, a wave of warmth settling over you like a blanket. The soft smile that spread across your plush lips made his heart flip in his chest, and when he held out his hand for you to take, the tension in your shoulders slipped away. “Thank you, you look rather dashing yourself. Green continues to be your color,” you mused as your palm met his upturned one, intertwining your fingers through his longer ones easily. 

He steered you into the room, heading for Ominis and Garreth again to give you time to get settled before the dancing started. When your eyes fell on Weasley, Sebastian watched as your brows shot halfway up your forehead, and he could hear the laughter in your voice when you asked, “Oh gods, what is he wearing?” 

“Don’t bring it up. Something about ‘tradition’ I think, but he’s well aware that he looks like a decorative rug.” 

You had to hide your smirk behind your free hand as you approached the two men. Garreth’s grin was blinding as he raised his glass to you in silent greeting, and Ominis must have heard you walking up, because he turned fully to face you with his kind eyes crinkled at their corners. 

“I obviously can’t say for certain, but if Sebastian’s inability to form words when you walked in was anything to go by, you must look beautiful.” The blond had a tiny Cauldron Cake pinched between his skinny fingers, and he popped it into his mouth without a second thought as a blush crept up your cheeks. 

“Thank you, Ominis, you do too.”

“I look beautiful?” He mumbled around his mouthful, and the sound of his muffled teasing contrasting with his neat appearance made you chuckle. 

You swatted his shoulder playfully and shook your head, “You know what I mean.” When your gaze shifted to Garreth, he seemed to hold his breath expectantly. “You too, Garreth. Pink looks good on you.”

The red-head rolled his eyes playfully, but he was still grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve been told that lying gives you wrinkles, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

He lifted his glass to his lips at the same time the enchanted orchestra in the corner ceased playing. Hundreds of heads swiveled towards the front of the room as Professor Black made his way to the podium, looking all too irritated to have to entertain students during the weekend instead of… actually, you had no clue what Professor Black did in his spare time. 

Probably kick Puffskeins and style his mustache. 

“Welcome all, to this year’s Yule Ball. I see the festivities are in full swing already, but I’d like to remind everyone that standard school rules are still meant to be followed even on a night such as this one. That means no floozy behavior, no consumption of beverages not otherwise provided for you, and for the love of Merlin– no smoking of Mallowsweet in school corridors. That has become a rampant issue that I would prefer to not have to deal with on top of everything else.” 

As the Headmaster continued monologuing, you managed to tune out the remainder of his warnings in favor of ogling Sebastian. Your hands were still intertwined, and he had tugged you closer to him so your arms were brushing against one another in his subtle attempts to get closer to you. He really did look striking in his dark green suit; it was the first time you’d been privy to seeing him so dressed up, and you bit your lip hungrily as potent, lustful thoughts filled your mind. It wasn’t until the room was full of thunderous applause that you realized the introductions were finished and your boyfriend was side-eyeing you as you blatantly stared at him. 

“Something on your mind?” He whispered the question directly against your ear, sending shivers down your spine and making your toes curl in your heels. 

Your hand in his tightened a fraction, and you cocked a brow slyly as your lips curled into a feline smile. “A few things, yes.” 

“Anything I’d like to know about?” 

“I’m sure you would, but there’s a time and a place. Don’t they say patience is a virtue?”

Sebastian hummed, trailing his thumb sensually along your knuckles as he smirked wickedly against your temple. “I find it to be more of a nuisance, but I suppose it would be a waste not to make the most of you in that dress. Would you care to dance?”

The Slytherin’s heart damn near hammered straight out of his sternum when you turned to stare affectionately up at him, the mixture of your love and desire so palpable in the air that he swore he could cut through it with a Diffindo charm. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

—

You didn’t think you’d ever felt so weightless in your life. 

Sebastian’s hand clasped in yours was like an anchor, keeping you grounded to the present moment as he tugged you along behind him up the winding staircase leading to the Astronomy Wing. He was moving fast– clearly eager to show you the ‘surprise’ he had waiting for you there– but he had the good grace to stay mindful of your dress and your inability to move as quickly as he could. The two of you had been sneakily stealing sips of his Firewhiskey throughout the night, so the faint buzz you had going was enough to make you slow down and consider every movement carefully as you ascended the steps. 

When you reached the top landing, the brunet’s neck craned sideways to cast an exhilarated look your way, his excitement a tangible entity that had butterflies erupting in your stomach. All through the night, Sebastian’s eyes and hands had been stealing telling glances and coy touches as he twirled you across the ballroom. You knew there had been hundreds of eyes on you at one point; the charmed, gold leaves around the lower lining of your gown had fallen away in trails of sunset colored sparkles that were bound to draw attention as you’d danced. But none of it had mattered– not with Sebastian gazing longingly at you like you were the only thing that existed. 

He was doing so now, and you found yourself burying your general dislike of surprises for the sake of the evening. Anything Sebastian had planned for you was something you were sure to love, you were already certain of it.

When the two of you reached the empty wall across from the familiar troll tapestry, Sebastian swiftly pulled you ahead of him and spun you around– more shimmering leaves wisping off of your dress as your back made contact with the cool stone behind it. You barely had time to register the brazen move before your boyfriend’s lips connected with yours, and then his broad hands were sliding up your neck to cup your face and tilt your head back to deepen the kiss impossibly further. He swallowed your startled gasp instantaneously, brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones so tenderly that it made your heart fucking ache. 

 Merlin– sometimes your love for Sebastian overwhelmed you. 

“As utterly ravishing as you are in that dress,” he whispered against your lips in-between kisses, “I can’t deny that I would much rather see it on the floor.”

A laugh bubbled past your lips despite yourself, and you let your palms trail down Sebastian’s sides until you reached his waist. You hooked your fingers through his belt loops, tugging his lower half flush against you, and his hands fell away from your face to brace against the wall behind you, effectively caging you between him and the cobblestone at your back. “Have some things planned, do you?” 

“Of course,” he replied with that renowned Sallow-swagger that made you melt. “But not before you get to appreciate all of my hard work.”

You hummed thoughtfully as you leaned forward to kiss him again, breathing in his intoxicating scent of cedar and something akin to old books. His tongue slipped in your mouth easily, tangling with your own so fluidly that you suddenly found yourself all too eager to discover what he had in store for you. Sebastian let you drink in your fill of him, groaning softly when you shifted your hips to grind lazily against his steadily growing erection, and then he was pulling back with a heated look in his eyes. 

“Riveting as this is, I don’t feel particularly keen on taking you in the middle of the hallway.”

On cue, you felt the wall against your back begin to change. The cool stone morphed into smooth wood, and the massive entryway to the Room of Requirement revealed itself as Sebastian seemingly gazed into your very soul. “No public canoodling? Your surprise must be quite something, then.” 

For the first time since finding him in the Great Hall, Sebastian looked nervous. He stepped back and rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving you a half-grin that you could have honestly mistaken for a grimace. “I certainly hope so… come on.” 

He extended his hand once again and you took it graciously, moving off the door to make room for him to push it open. The brunet ushered you in, letting you enter ahead of him, and you barely made it three steps inside before you were halting completely. Your eyes widened and your mouth fell open in silent shock as you took in the magical sight before you. 

The Room was full of floating candles like the ones in the Great Hall, only these ones flickered with deep blue flames that seemed to cast the space in what you could only describe as pure moonlight. The ambiance had been changed as well, working in tandem with the romantic lighting so flawlessly that you were certain you had to be staring at a painting. You made a mental note to remember to thank Deek for his evident assistance. Bright red petals had been strewn across the floor, paving a rather telling path towards the slightly ajar bedroom door on the opposite side of the chamber. What was inside, you didn’t know– but the contrasting red glow from within had your mind flooding with unrestrained fantasies that made your stomach flip. 

Your legs carried you deeper into the room as you took in every unique change to your secret space, and all the while, Sebastian watched you virtually glide across the floor. The enchanted leaves running down your dress added a new degree of magic to the whole scene; the trail of gold flakes that evaporated into sparkling dust made you look like some sort of enchantress that had snuck onto the school grounds, and he found himself following you across the petals towards the bedroom in a trance. 

Sebastian had seriously outdone himself. You had no words. 

Pushing the door open revealed more floating candles– the normal colored ones– and an amorous display that made your breath catch in your throat. He’d replaced the usual bed linens with silky, red sheets that reflected the candlelight beautifully. You spotted a bottle of wine perched between two glasses on the nightstand, and situated behind it all was a fresh bouquet of roses that left a distinctly floral scent in the air. 

A large part of you wanted to cry from the affection that flooded your brain, but you willed away the urge in favor of turning around to face Sebastian. 

He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed– a hungry, almost insatiable look spreading across his features. Those lust-dark eyes of his were scanning you up and down like you were a whole meal, and given the set-up in the room, you were willing to wager a guess that his mentality was exactly that. The warm lighting in the bedroom bathed him in a seductive glow, and as handsome as he looked in his suit, you suddenly wanted him out of it. Pronto. 

“You’re speechless,” he observed, sounding almost timid as he spoke the words. 

“That’s a word for it.” 

“Good speechless or bad speechless?” 

You gave him a nonplussed blink before your brows slammed down, “Why in Merlin’s name would it be bad speechless?” 

Your ability to read Sebastian like a damn book allowed you to see the cracks in his confident facade as he dug the toe of his shoe into the stone floor. He shrugged, “I’m not sure. Maybe because I snuck in here and changed everything around. Although Deek did help some, so I guess I’m not solely to blame.” 

There were no thoughts in your head other than the rapacious desire to be close to him, and your heels echoed off the bedroom walls as you strode over to him in the doorway to yank him down to your level. You all but slammed your mouths together, stealing his breath with the intensity of your ministrations, and the action left little room for doubt. Sebastian returned the kiss with equal fervor, winding his arms around you to crush you against his front as you bit and licked at his soft, freckled lips. 

“You ought to stoke that confidence some more, because this is quite possibly the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me.” Your praises did wonders to soothe his frayed nerves, seeing as you felt him relax under your touch as you sensually dragged your hands up to grip his strong shoulders. 

He chuckled proudly, pulling away to stare anticipatorily down at you with a smug look on his face. That was an expression you were all too familiar with. “You should know that where you’re concerned, I’m a split-second confidence kind of guy. The things you do to me and you don’t even know it…” he trailed off in a gravelly voice, and you shivered as you felt his palms begin skirting down your lower back to play with the zipper of your gown. 

“Oh really?” Your voice was airy, and your fingers dug into the smooth material of his blazer as you worked to maintain your composure. “Care to enlighten me?” 

Sebastian tilted his head to the side curiously before leaning down to brush a tiny kiss over the tip of your nose, “I’d much rather show you. What do you say? You want to let me take care of you, darling?” 

Your breath caught in your throat, rendering your tongue a useless paperweight in your mouth as it failed to form words, so you nodded excitedly instead and noted how Sebastian growled in response. Any awkwardness or uncertainty fell away when he claimed your lips again in a wet, needy frenzy, swallowing your surprised mewl as he walked you backwards towards the spacious bed. You felt his fingers return to your zipper and gently tug it down as the backs of your knees made contact with the mattress, and his hand on your hip kept you steady as his arm dropped ever-so-slightly to part the fabric of your dress. The velvety attire slipped down your body and pooled around your ankles instantly– a plume of gold sparkles erupting from it as it hit the floor. 

Sebastian broke the kiss to look down at you, his long, dark lashes fanning out across his cheeks as he took in your nearly bare form from head to toe. You followed the tight bob of his adam’s apple as his chocolate brown eyes roved over your breasts before they returned to your face, and then he was gingerly pushing you down onto the bed. 

As you scooted higher up the sheets, Sebastian’s gaze stayed glued to you while he shed his jacket, tossing it haphazardly to the side so he could begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. You watched him unblinkingly as he undressed– shamelessly licking your lips when his top fell open and revealed the taut plane of his stomach— and the fuzzy trail of hair leading beneath his trousers had your knees clenching together in anticipation. With his button-up discarded, all that remained were the pants, and he elected to take his time undoing his belt with calculated movements as his eyes bored into yours. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all night,” he admitted, and the metal clink of the buckle falling away punctuated the statement. “Gods– I was ready to leave the second you walked in, you have no fucking idea.” 

You shuddered from the intensity of his words, boldly dragging one of your hands down between your legs to feel the wetness that had begun to saturate your undergarments. The sight of you touching yourself sent Sebastian into overdrive– and he wasted little time in shoving his trousers down and kicking them aside so he was donned in nothing but his briefs. His arousal was straining against the thin cotton– so much so that it had to be bordering on painful– but he made no signs of discomfort as he seductively started to crawl up the bed towards you. 

As soon as Sebastian was within reach, you abandoned your soaked nether region to curl your fingers around his neck and pull him towards you, kissing him desperately. You ran your hands down his freckled chest, then wrapped your arms around his midsection to ghost the tips of your fingers along his spine. The shiver it elicited from him had heat pooling in your gut, and your need for him started to shift into something even more ravenous. 

Sebastian dropped himself down onto his elbows to minimize the space between the two of you as your tongues tangled, and as he settled his lower half against yours, he ground his straining member against your clothed cunt. He groaned unabashedly, the sound low in his throat, and your lips took to wandering along his jaw, down his throat, before settling against the curve of his shoulder to sink your teeth into the soft flesh. 

“Fuck– I can feel how wet you are already. How badly do you want it? Tell me,” he implored you, his eyes fluttering shut when you laved your tongue over the light imprint of your teeth. “Talk to me, darling, please.” 

Merlin, his voice alone was doing things to you that rendered your vocal chords useless. You tried speaking anyway. “P-Please,” you rasped out against his spit-slick skin. “Please Sebastian, I need you– I’ve needed you all night–” 

“All night, huh? What exactly were you thinking about while we were on the dance floor, hm? What filthy thoughts are swimming around in that pretty little head of yours?” 

The way Sebastian was rutting against you– tempting you with every snap of his hips– was driving you absolutely crazy with lust, and your head fell away from his shoulder against the sheets with a low moan as your nails raked down his sides. To your dismay, however, he ceased his movements to sit up and plant his hands on your wiggling hips, pinning you down in place. His toned arms flexed as he applied a fair amount of pressure in a bid to still your writhing against the silky covers, and you bit your lip in blatant frustration, narrowing your eyes dangerously. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I asked you a question. Tell me what you want– what you’ve apparently been craving all night. You can do that for me, can’t you?” 

Leave it to Sebastian to still find a way to make you beg for his cock. The nerve. You scowled up at him, “You’re really going to make me say it?” 

He had the audacity to laugh at your impatience. “I would make you scream it if I wasn’t trying so hard to be nice.” 

You had half a mind to taunt him further and clarify that really– this was him being nice? But then one of his hands fell away from your waist to trail closer to your drenched underwear until he had the pad of his thumb planted directly against your clit. That was the extent of his mercy, though. He made no move to provide you with any friction or stimulation– he simply stared at you expectantly. 

Dammit. 

Your hips twitched, unconsciously seeking the reprieve his fingers could offer you. It mattered little though; his strength kept you pinned firmly in place. “I-I want you to fuck me,” you mumbled, cheeks heating with slight embarrassment. 

“Anyone could fuck you, sweetheart. You need to be more specific,” he fucking purred the statement, making your head spin and your inhibitions fly out the damn window. 

“You,” came your wheezed response. “I want you– I want your cock, Sebastian, all I need is you. Please fuck me, I only want you, please.” 

The sight of you flushed and panting, bathed in warm candlelight as your hands fisted ardently in the sheets, drove all of Sebastian’s blood straight to his cock. It twitched enthusiastically within the confines of his briefs. 

You felt the pressure from his arm let up at the same time he removed his thumb from your aching center. Impatient didn’t even begin to cover how you were feeling, but you were all too pleased when his fingers finally pinched the fabric of your panties to tug the material down your bent legs.

Shaking his head in near disbelief, Sebastian groaned, “You sound like a fucking dream begging for it, darling. I’ll give it to you, I promise.”  

His words soothed you, but you still tensed a little when you felt the tip of his finger slip inside your overwhelmingly wet heat. You sighed and spread your legs further to accommodate Sebastian’s kneeled position, and he took to trailing his free hand over your hip bones, then up your torso to squeeze at your breasts as he willed you to relax for him. Releasing your vice grip on the sheets, you wrapped your hand around Sebastian’s thick wrist while he toyed with your sensitive nipples– effectively losing yourself to the euphoric sensation until he was knuckle-deep in your clenching walls. 

A keening sound resonated from deep in your chest as you rocked back onto Sebastian’s finger, testing the feeling, and you bit your lip hard at the rumbling groan your boyfriend gave in response. He leaned down to pepper kisses along your shoulder, sucking at your collarbone and gently nipping at your neck, and when he thrusted his finger minutely and curled it towards your stomach, you shuddered and dug your nails into his forearm.

“Come on,” you whined, bucking your hips more insistently in response to his painfully slow pace. The brunet nodded, pumping his finger deeper, and he couldn’t stop the moan that tumbled from his mouth at how fucking tight you were. 

Sebastian worked you with the single digit for a moment before tentatively adding a second, his blood igniting in his veins at the airy gasp you let slip. Your name fell from his lips like a plea, and when he leaned up slightly to gauge your expression, the half-hooded look you bore was enough to make his stomach drop. “Gods, you’re perfect,” he virtually whispered. 

By the time you were amply prepared for him, your hands had abandoned the sheets and his wrist to clutch tightly at his shoulders, your sounds growing desperate and needy. Sebastian continued to spread and twist his fingers, trying to map out precisely where to aim to reduce you to gasping screams just as he’d promised. You were beyond jittery, though, winding your fingers into his curly brown locs to tug his face towards yours and glare openly at him. “I’m about to jump your bones,” you growled, rolling your hips against Sebastian’s fingers urgently. “Come on, Sebastian, let me– fuck–”

Sebastian grinned wildly at the way your back arched clean off the sheets, the tight gasp you pulled into your lungs imbuing him with a need for you that rivaled his need to breathe. Without missing a beat, he withdrew his fingers and frantically set to peeling his briefs away to free himself from the restrictive material. His girth arched proudly against his stomach, swollen and red and so fucking tantalizing. Your eyes devoured him greedily as he tossed the pre-cum stained attire over his shoulder, and then he was crawling over you once again with an animalistic hunger reflecting in his eyes. 

Hooking your legs around his waist, Sebastian braced his arms on either side of your head, gazing at you longingly as the head of his leaking cock brushed against your slick entrance. It took an insane amount of effort for you not to nudge him forward with your heels– forcing yourself to remain pliant as he pressed into you at an achingly slow pace. Your eyes rolled shut at the feeling of being breached, savaging your lower lip with your teeth as inch after inch of Sebastian’s incredible cock entered you. A contented whine weaseled its way from his throat as he bottomed out, and you cracked your bleary eyes open to find the freckled man staring at you with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“W-What?” You muttered, trailing your hands up his muscular biceps before interlacing your fingers together around his neck. “Don’t make me beg again, I already said please.” 

“I was just enjoying the face you were making,” he said with a smirk, grinding his hips enough to have you trembling and arching. “Like you were trying really hard to hold back. It’s hot as hell.”  

You fought a smile, tugging him down by his neck to capture his lips in yet another dizzying kiss. Sebastian bit and licked at your mouth with reckless abandon as he swallowed the sounds his efforts pulled from you, and he sighed before pulling away to brush a few strands of hair off of your forehead. He thrusted suddenly into you– catching you off guard– and your breath hitched at the same time your head fell back, effectively killing the remainder of Sebastian’s patience. 

Dropping one of his hands to your waist, Sebastian withdrew his throbbing member enough so that when he snapped his hips forward, you were jolted up the bed slightly. “Ah–” your sharp cry reverberated off the bedroom walls, and his hold on you instantly became possessive. 

Grasping onto you like his life depended on it, Sebastian dug his feet into the bed to lend some force to his thrusts as he worked himself into an even tempo. It felt mind-numbingly wonderful to finally be encased in your warm walls after day-dreaming about it all night. His mouth fell open with a shaky groan when he pressed his balls against your raised ass, the friction doing you both a slew of favors, and his vision flashed a brilliant white when he felt you clench around his cock and suck him in even deeper. 

“Oh fuck– fucking hell–” Sebastian grit through clenched teeth, pushing himself up fully so he was no longer hunched over you. You unhooked your ankles from around him so he could maneuver your legs over his bent ones, gripping your thighs with a bruising strength that made your mouth dry up in a heartbeat. He had a perfect view of you laid bare under him this way, and he shamelessly watched as his cock glistened with your slick when he pulled out right before plunging back in. 

Your spine rounded, a guttural moan ripping its way from your chest as Sebastian picked up his pace while simultaneously pulling you down onto his quick thrusts. It was pure rapture having his hands on you– demandingly shifting you around to steal his pleasure from your tight heat as he sought out the deepest parts of you. At one point, he released his hold on one of your legs to plant his broad hand on top of your stomach, relishing in how he could feel his cock each time he slid home. It was addicting– you were addicting— and the thought lit a fire in his very soul. 

“S-Sebastian,” you whined, gathering the silky sheets in your clenched fists as wave after wave of sheer pleasure washed over you. With your legs held in the brunet’s strong grip, he had the freedom to fuck harder into your slick folds, pulling noisy cries of his name and desperate pleas for more from your kiss-swollen lips. Your voice was loud in the humid room, your moans echoing off the walls around the two of you– and when Sebastian bucked harder so the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the space– you gasped frantically and writhed beneath him. He had to be hitting a good spot.

“You’re stunning, darling– so fucking good to me–” Sebastian managed to grunt out, pounding his cock into you with temerity that made your looming finish all the more potent. “Fuck, you feel incredible.” 

“Right there, S-Sebastian, fuck me right there, gods–”

The muscles in your stomach were tensing, and you were honestly shaking from the vigor of his thrusts. Sebastian groaned, the sound of your pleading little whimpers driving him mad with undiluted need, and he watched you blearily try to figure out what was going on as he hoisted your legs up and threw them over his shoulders. He moved over you, bending you in half at the same time he rammed his thick cock back into your cunt, and you were hardly given the space to breathe before your boyfriend was fucking you hard— his hips bucking rough and deep and so fucking good that you were left mewling and grasping helplessly at the sheets. 

Sebastian pinned you to the bed and fucked himself into you, his own moans dripping loud from his lips as his hands tangled in your hair and tightened around the strands. The sting was delicious and left you with no choice but to allow your lover to pull you closer to him while he filled you up over and over.  He drank in the sounds you made as your back arched off the sheets the best it could under his added weight, your thighs shaking and muscles tensing until you were barely holding on. 

“Like that– fuck, Sebastian, just like that, I’m gonna come–”

Unable to give a more coherent response than a gasping whine, Sebastian dug his nails into your scalp and was rewarded with the sweet sound of you wailing his name as you came violently, riding your hips down into his as much as you could. Your hands flew to his back to rake angry red welts down his sides, and Sebastian let your legs fall from his shoulders so he could wrap his arms around you and bury his face into the crook of your neck. He sank his teeth into the sweaty skin as he gave you the last of his deep, quick thrusts before he was coming inside— your name tumbling over his lips like a mantra as he fell into bliss.

By the time Sebastian was anything approaching coherent, you were still shaking under him, your legs wrapped tight around his waist. “Fuck,” he murmured into the hollow of your throat, untangling his hands from your hair and smoothing the mussed locs down. 

Sebastian pulled out with a small groan– your hips seemingly lifting to chase the marvelous feeling of being filled– but then he was planting his elbows on either side of you to brace himself as he kissed you breathlessly. You melted under him, curling around him ardently when he finally let himself tip sideways beside you. His chest was heaving with the deep breaths he sucked into his lungs, and you happily nestled your head atop his shoulder as your hands took to tracing invisible shapes and patterns along the taut expanse of his stomach. 

You dozed off sometime after Sebastian had started murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, and when you awoke a few hours later, you were still draped over him, his fingers idly trailing up the shallow dip of your spine. Stretching the best you could without disturbing the peaceful vibe, you craned your neck to look up at Sebastian sleepily, and his eyes crinkled at their corners as he smiled down at you. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” 

“Mmph,” you grunted, voice thick with sleep. “Is it morning already? You should have woken me up.” 

He shrugged and glanced at the open bedroom door, noting the lack of sunlight streaming in through the skylight. “Early morning, but not daylight hours quite yet. I figured you needed the rest.”

Humming appreciatively, you closed the minuscule space between the two of you to kiss him gently, and he sighed against your lips as his hands roved up your back once more to play with your hair at the nape of your neck. Everything about the moment was pure, and you found it all too easy to get lost in the sensations dancing over your still-sensitive body.

Sebastian broke away first, gazing at you strangely before he abandoned your hair to reach for the nightstand. “I was going to do this earlier before everything, but I uh… got distracted.” 

You couldn’t hide the flush that crept up your cheeks at the reminder. “Hm, I wonder why,” you teased. “Do what, though?”

He finally found whatever he’d been rifling around for blindly and met your inquisitive stare, swallowing nervously. “I’ve been thinking about what’s going to happen after we graduate. I’m sure you have your own ideas, but I just thought– well, I’d obviously like to stay together. I can’t imagine not having you beside me, but that being said, I’ll respect whatever you decide, even if it isn’t what I want to hear.” 

Your stomach flipped over on itself, and your eyes went wider than saucers when Sebastian revealed a small, velvet box gripped tight in his hand. Pushing yourself off of him, he flicked the lid open with trembling fingers, and your gasp was drowned out by the hammering of your heart in your ears. 

Inside was a thin, gold band adorned with a tiny, emerald gemstone that sparkled brilliantly under the flickering candlelight. Your mouth fell open as the implications of the ring bore down on you, and when you looked back at Sebastian, his eyes were scanning your face to gauge your expression. 

“Is that…?” 

“It’s only a posy ring, but I thought that it might make the next few months easier to anticipate. You’re my whole world, darling. I can’t fathom parting ways after everything we’ve been through, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope you felt the same.”

Warm, fat tears welled in your eyes then, blurring your vision before they were streaking down your cheeks without restraint. His anxiety leading up to arriving in the Room of Requirement suddenly made a lot more sense to you, and you realized that he’d planned all of this well in advance. How long had he been waiting to ask you? How long had he held onto the ring in the hopes that you would say yes? 

He still looked nervous, but it was drowned out by the complete adoration that glimmered in his dark eyes. 

“Yes,” you choked out, somewhere in-between sobbing and laughing as you sat up fully. “Yes, Sebastian– of course I feel the same.” 

Sebastian’s smile was blinding, and he plucked the ring from the box and slowly slid it on your extended finger, both of your hands shaking with barely contained excitement. It fit perfectly, and you gave yourself all of two seconds to admire the look and the feeling of it on your hand before you had flipped yourself to the side to straddle him. Your hands cradled his cheeks as you dipped your head lower to kiss him over and over, his soft laughter warming your heart and filling you with a sense of contentment you hadn’t known existed until now.

“I love you, Sebastian. I’ll travel to the ends of the Earth with you, never doubt that. My future is your future– my heart has always belonged to you– of course I’ll stay with you. Whatever is to come, facing it with you is all I want.” 

You didn’t think you’d ever seen him look so elated in all your time knowing him. His face lit up vibrantly at your declaration, and in a flash he had wrapped his arms around you to flip you back over so he was situated on top of you, gazing down at you with his hands running down your bare sides. 

He assaulted the entirety of your face with fervent kisses, laughing softly under his breath as you returned his affections with equal force. “I love you so much, darling. You’re my everything, I wouldn’t change a damned thing about the past knowing that it landed me here with you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

The remainder of the night was spent with the two of you beneath the silk sheets, the promise of tomorrow suddenly all the more exciting to imagine now that you knew Sebastian would be with you for the rest of your life. Posy ring or not, you’d already known that only death could take you from him– and even then you were certain you would find a way to keep loving him long after you were gone. 

Neither one of you would have it any other way. 

[your-local-hoemie]

I've genuinely never put in a request for something before so ur the first T.T

I was wondering, what would happen if you just wandered into scaramouche's room?

Im sorry if this is oddly specific, but I was hoping for a NS!FW M4M, possibly with Balladeer instead of wanderer, and if you do this thank you so much :))

NS!FW. 18+ ONLY!!!

OF COURSE!!!! Thank you for asking!!!!

You’ll have to forgive me if it’s not great. Even though I edge more towards masc im still not 100% sure how dudes work djdhdu

Also good lord, I went kind hard (hah) with this one, my cheeks were gLOWING while writing this. I’m never seeing heaven istg 💀

Edit: I accidentally went a little off script because I got extremely flustered so I’m sorry T-T

Warnings: ns!fw, dom!scaramouche (he needs his own warning), mild degradation, mean words, bratty behaviour, smug little shittery, lots of spicy words, swearing, male!reader, not proof-read.

Characters: scaramouche as: The ✨Balladeer✨

Scaramouche and you had a weird relationship.

No one knew whether you hated each other or if you were actually close.

Including you-

Sometimes you’d be at each other throat with any sharp object you could find and then the next, you’d be defending the other for whatever morally questionable crimes you had committed.

You happened to be one of the unfortunate fatui members that had been assigned to Scaramouche.

You don’t really know how he didn’t decide to murder you for your instinctive comebacks whenever he’d insult you.

He’s never admit it but he enjoyed having someone to banter with that wouldn’t immediately shit themselves the second he glanced at them.

Which is why you were now in his office for…

Well you didn’t really know.

He was busy doing paperwork that he was making extremely obvious that he hated every second of.

You were sitting in a chair across the room from him, equally as bored.

“So what exactly do you need me for… sir”

“To sit there and shut up.”

“…why?”

Letting out a sigh, Scara rolling his eyes, waving your questions off.

“You know, I’m supposed to be doing work. Going out, getting information, torturing, stealing, all the good stuff. Not sit in a room with a pouty brat-”

Clearing your throat, you suddenly realise what you had done.

Oh shit-

With a glare more threatening than a cryo mage in the rain. Scara placed his pen neatly down on the table, carefully organising the papers in front of him with sly grin.

Double shit-

“You know, you do a lot of talking for someone who can’t even handle to be alone in a room with their boss for more than an hour”

“Yeah well you’re not really the most enjoyable to be around…boss.”

The balladeers grin became even more sly as I pushed the chair away from his desk, standing up and taking a few steps forward, positioning himself right in front of you.

“I’ve had a very stressful day and I think I could use a little worshiping. Why don’t you use that mouth for something other than pathetic remarks, hm~?”

“Excuse me-?”

Without a hint of hesitation or shame, the harbinger placed his hand on your head. Most likely relishing the feeling of actually being taller than someone for once.

“Don’t act like our… banter doesn’t get you hard. I’ve seen the way you squirm when I get a little too close~”

Scaramouche pressed your head close to his crotch, speaking with a tone laced in sly smugness.

“I know you’ve imagined what I could do to you. I bet you even stroke yourself to the thought of me. Having the hand of a deity stroke you~”

Obviously he was right. Which just annoyed you even more, causing your pride to outweigh the sheer embarrassment coursing through your veins at his lewd words.

“You know how much shit you’d be in if I told anyone about this, right?

Scaramouche frowned at your remark, swiftly taking your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up at him.

“If a word of this leaves your mouth to anyone other than me, I will make you wish that I killed you. Understand me?”

Feeling your words catch in your throat, you give him a irritated nod, unable to fully deny how hot the whole situation was becoming.

“Good. Now, be a good for your god and worship me the way I deserve.”

Smirking down at you, Scara unbuttoned his shorts, letting his already hard dick bounce out against your face, making him sigh out in satisfaction.

“I always thought you looked so much better on your knee’s~ now suck.”

Blushing violently and not even able to deny how turned on you were, you locked eyes with The Balladeer and took him inside your mouth.

“Good boy~ just like that..”

Petting your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness, Scara pushed your head back and fourth, making you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Why don’t you touch yourself for me like the desperate, horny slut you are~”

Letting out a small, muffled whimper, you knew you were completely at his mercy as you couldn’t help but move your hand down, touching yourself as he commanded.

Scara thrust his hips more intensely, picking up his speed as moans and grunts escape his lips causing you to match his speed with your hand.

Feeling his hand grip tighter on your head, with one finally thrust and a loud groan of pleasure, scara finally released himself down your throat, pushing you over the edge as you coat your hand and pants in your load.

“Mmh! You’re such a good fuck toy,m. Now make sure to clean up the mess m’kay?”

Pulling out, leaving a messy string of saliva mixed with his load; Scara took a deep breath and returned to his paperwork like nothing happened, leaving you panting and and mess on the floor, still somewhat dazed.

“Y-yes…sir…”

HSIDUDICUIDJDIVUDO AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

squeaks 👺👨‍🦽👹🧍

[pfhwrittes]

last night i was fussing over my extensive stretch marks in my boob-to-pit region and then a voice in my head said Soap would think that’s hot. and somehow i think that was your doing

firstly you need to know that i cackled like a mad scientist when i got this ask. secondly, here have some more parker's 'pit stuff. thirdly, and most importantly, i love you 💜

pairing: john "soap" mactavish x AFAB!reader word count: approx. 500 tags/warnings: 'pit stuff (i'm not sorry in the slightest), a hint of body insecurity, AFAB!reader (but still hopefully gender neutral), a brief mention of playful wrestling, the reader's hands are pinned, bonnie used as a pet name, abrupt ending and barely edited as per usual.

"whatcha doin', bonnie?"

johnny's voice drifts from across the bedroom and you hear the rustle of his towel hitting the floor (always three paces away from the dirty laundry basket, despite the way you've lovingly threatened to smother him to death with his abandoned clothes each time you've had to pick up another pair of his socks).

you hum distractedly as you poke and prod at the textured skin carving light patterns from your underarm to the side of your breast. maybe you should try that miracle moisturiser your friend had suggested. ugh.

a pair of large, warm hands reach out to knead at your tits and you huff at your boyfriend as you meet his excited gaze. if there's one thing you know about john mactavish, it's that he's happier than a dog with two dicks whenever you're half dressed in his presence.

"johnny, get off. i need a shower." it's a token protest at best, you know that once he's got his hands on you that you won't be escaping his clutches until he's satisfied.

(it's one of the reasons you had to implement a "no showering together" rule so early on in the relationship, especially as he'd drop to his knees on the cool tile to chase the rivulets of water running down your thighs and make you unavoidably late every single time you did offer to share.)

"oh aye? feelin' a wee bit dirty are ya?" johnny waggles his eyebrows lasciviously. it takes everything in your power not to roll your eyes at him. you know what'll come out of his mouth next -

"i'm up fer givin' you a wash bonnie, ye just have tae ask."

(what follows is just as predictable as his cheesy lines. you end up panting lightly after being wrestled onto the bed, your wrists pinned lightly above your head and johnny face down licking a wet stripe into your armpit.)

his stubble prickles at the sensitive skin of your underarm and where his cheek is rubbing against your tit, causing you to squirm. johnny groans in response and you feel his cock twitch against the curve of your hip, smearing precum against your skin.

"i fuckin' love this." it's muffled against your skin and you shudder again, "i fuckin' love the way yer tits feel too."

you bite down on your lip to stop from gasping as he turns his face slightly to suck a wet mark over your stretch marks. you don't exactly get his thing about your armpits but you do admit that the way he worships your body certainly helps you appreciate it at least.

"y'look fuckin' incredible. wish i could just keep ye here in our bed forever, not hafta share ye with anyone ever again."

johnny cuts himself off with a low moan, his own words winding him faster than the way you're wriggling weakly against him, not unaffected yourself.

"j-johnny, c'mon. let me go shower -" you manage to gasp out. you feel his hands tighten slightly on your wrists and johnny looks up, his beautiful blue eyes more intense than you've seen before.

"oh no, bonnie. i'm keepin' ye right here until 'm done with ye."

(and when johnny is done with you, your legs won't stop shaking as he crowds you under the spray of the shower, washing the combination of cum and spit from off your chest and out from under your arms.)

-- (@kaadaaan come get your man he's being weird about armpits again)

[gg-neptune]

My Sleep Deprived Snape HC

A/N: I haven't slept in almost 42 hours and my brain juices are mixing nicely right now. So, enjoy whatever becomes of this. Not proofreading this either so fight for your life while reading. :)))

Snape wears fuzzy socks. Not like in his normal shoes but when he's just in his bedroom or his house he's got him on a nice pair of fuzzy socks. He also unconsciously wiggles his toes when he's just wearing these socks. If you look closely while he's teaching sometimes you can see him wiggle his toes, then too.

He sleeps in a starfish position unless someone else is with him when he's really stressed out. He will start out laying on his back like normal then when he falls asleep, he will start to move around and thrash. Eventually ending up face down face smushed into a pillow splayed out. He might drool to if he's particularly stressed. Now if someone is sleeping with him, he won't move at all and will simply cling to them tightly mooching off their warmth the entire night.

He has Professor McGonagall cut his hair.

When he is alone. Like completely alone no one to bother him he lips syncs. Passionately. Like a teenage girl and a boy band.

When he was a student in school and kids would ask him how he never failed tests he would say, "I simply just like don't man." He just refused to not get a good grade.

When there is a student, he doesn't like who is getting on his nerves really bad but hasn't done enough for him to warrant detention he will test out ingredients that could cause explosions and put it in their cauldron when they aren't looking.

He does care for all of his students but he won't show it. He shows he cares by hating them and genuinely thinks that get's his point across and wonders why he is the most hated professor.

He buys the poorer students toiletries if they need it. He just magically knows, it just appears for them. (i heard somehting like this somewhere but I can't find it but I agree so much) He don't want kids to suffer the way he did.

He invented the toe nail growing charm because Lily was complaining about the fact her pinky toe nail looked weird and was basically non-existent and when she painted them she was just painted skin. (idk if this makes sense)

He has a collection of trinkets he has aquired on his desk.

He throws stuff for no reason sometimes. When he's alone

Him and Lily used to do Kareoke

He would get into it man. Bro was getting down

Especially you put on NO SCRUBS

Bro would be belting and getting down

he was passionate about it too

[honeypiehotchner]

you know the fic is going good when it has you doing MATH to figure out who was how old and when, and who was in the BAU in this year and so on

it'll make sense i PROMISE

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Like a Horror Movie

A minor Zombie Ghost drabble to christen this account 💀🧟‍♂️✨

Heavily based off that one quote I saw where someone said Zombie Ghost broke his own jaw so he wouldn’t hurt you. 🙃

—

Is that…?

Your own thoughts grew nearly impossible to register over the chaotic rumbling of helicopter blades nearly half a mile away waiting for you.

“Keep running!” You heard a man’s shouting far ahead of you, or behind you, his accent grown heavier from such amplified, horrified distress in a race against time to outrun the dead.

Where it would take you, you didn’t know, but above ground was safer than the badlands below your aching feet.

The cold rain didn’t help, you weren’t sure why. It mingled with the sweat on your skin, tasting like cloyed gasoline on your tongue as it drooped along your lips. You didn’t want to run, but you had to. Evac had been waiting for you, in a helicopter at the end of the field.

Darkness invaded the night, the moon herself shielding her own eyes with dense, tearful clouds, diluting spilled blood and gasoline down along the earth.

You heard the shouting amidst all the gunfire. The gangrenous stench permeating the darkened fields, the flattened weeds under your boots from endless running.

You didn’t want to run anymore, the distress of your windpipes burning with each breath of air. All the bullets you wasted on reckless gunfire towards the mindless corpses that chased after you like relentless athletes had long since vanished.

You couldn’t stop, you knew that. One goal was on your mind as you continued along, pushing your limits to fight, to survive.

You could only imagine a haven on the other side of this, waiting for you with open, protective arms, promising a safe life that consisted of late mornings waking up to tired, dreary multicolored eyes, as the life you once had burned bright behind you.

You could’ve sworn you had an extra magazine on yourself, a strange attempt to grasp hold of it left you gasping and turning around, instantly failing your mission once you saw a tall, hulking beast coming to an abrupt halt at least eight feet away.

Is that him…? You recognized that uniform, sleeves torn from pitiful attempts to block the bloodied, infected flanges that scratched against his skin before sinking their teeth in.

But, the mask.

It had to be him, the meat on his body still clung to his bones, the decaying process too early still to peel the skin off his face.

“Lass! The fuck are you doing?! Hurry!!” Your partner called to you, the only other survivor from your once strong bodied team.

It was him. There was no one else you knew that was like him.

But, why was he here?? He was supposed to have secured this evac sight. He was supposed to be waiting for you, with a rifle in hand and an outstretched palm, lifting you up onto the platform towards that shimmering haven you desired.

The picturesque of such a high hoped eternity vanished like the snuff of a candle light within a canopy.

The watercolor that made up his eyes had long since washed off its leather canvas, replaced by two pearls without their iridescent sheen, measly shielded by dark, heavy lids.

Oh, Simon.

The way he stared you down wasn’t like that of an undead beast, like in the movies. He didn’t groan, or growl or grunt. As in life, his syllables were silenced by choice, giving him an etch of humanity based off your memory of his personality.

Did you fight? Of course you did. You’d never go down that easily.

But you knew better than to believe he was still alive. Like a stalking beast preparing to pounce, a killer always waits, preparing to pounce at just the right chance.

You weren’t unsuspecting, but waiting. Your heart ringing in your ears, your tears indistinguishable from this odd, putrid acid rain.

You were waiting, because you couldn’t go on. Not like this. You couldn’t see yourself rushing towards that helicopter, towards a dark, dreary existence, towards a life that meant living in dreadful solitude.

Did you scream out? What did you yell? Where did they bite you first?

You simply dropped your pistol, your rifle hanging carelessly by your side. An open target with blinking red lights and white flags, one that even the undead variant of the man you loved wasn’t stupid enough to resist.

Did it hurt? What did you think last? I’m sorry, I wasn’t there to protect you, or stopped you. Stopped you from reaching this point.

But, where did he come from? Why did he chase you all the way here? Or was he waiting for you? Could he tell, or was did this disease render him absolutely starved?

You didn’t need to scream it, you just needed to stand and wait, unable to fight the flinch of his body bursting from his spot, thick mud sloshing under his boots as he ran towards his prize.

When his unlatched, severed jaw failed to make its mark, it didn’t matter. This undead version of the soldier you loved wasn’t the man you knew, yet his ever strong determination remained.

You would’ve closed your eyes, should’ve even, but you couldn’t. Despite your hard flinch, you refused to let your last memory be of darkness as hot, heavy top teeth attempted to sever the sinews of your neck. Humid, heavy fermented breath and blood dampened the fabric fabric protecting your clavicle once his head drops lower, the straps of your helmet proving too pitiful to protect you much longer.

Even in death, he would find a way to kill you. He could break open your rib cage to feast at your quick beating heart inside, and you’d let him, dying while knowing he held onto your heart one last time.

His hands grasped hold of your shoulders, his heavy, dead weight forcing you off your feet in seconds, your tense body preparing to meet the cold, muddy ground.

The world went quiet, the screaming of your teammate ceased, your eyes merely catching a glimpse of the stars peeking through the crying heavens as your lover prepares to eat you whole.

The warmth of cotton sheets remained ever so soothing against the skin along your bare back, a hint of detergent making a pitiful note in the layer of expensive cologne.

An expensive brand you had bought him for his birthday.

Your eyes opened to promptly gaze into the darkness of the night, greeted with muffled breeze beating along your bedroom windows.

“Simon—?” Your croaked, emotional tone rasped out into the warm, stuffy ambiance, your aware self processing the emotions your dream state simply refused.

Warm arms reinforced their hold along your waist underneath cashmere blankets, tattooed skin nestled snug against your back. Usually, you’d hear his patterned breathing as during rare chances you had woken up while he slept, but this time, he merely waited.

Maybe you mumbled words in your sleep, or swatted your hand along his side, something to have roused him from his slumber.

Click. The warmth of a bedside lamplight vanished the darkness blanketing the room, the solidarity of each of your senses pointing out where you were.

Simple, minimalist decorated walls. A rich, dark red throw blanket you recalled wrapping yourself in while on the couch during movie night now sprawled over the corner of your bed.

The very same blanket Simon wrapped you in before carrying you off to sleep, temporarily embracing you in an exotic cocoon as your mind processed which dream you were to have.

“I’m here, love,” his voice rasps against your neck, the bridge of his nose brushing against your lower left clavicle.

Your head turned just enough to meet his gaze as his rose, greeted with the warmth of his tired, half asleep face, his hair slightly rustled after a minor process of anxious, short sleep.

The lamp ignited the warmth in his ever so exhausted eyes. Tiger’s eyes hues submerged in the deep blue waters of Alaska, heavy lids shadowed over with visible concern for your cold sweat riddled distress.

Warm blood pulsing through his heart, urging his cells to maintain the tone of his skin, the hint of pink in his cheeks, the hues of fool’s gold that made up the palate of his irises reflecting off the warm light.

His eyes flicker along the details of your face, as if instantly suspecting something. His hand makes a gentle effort to cup along the outskirt of your bare thigh, his heavy palm settling around your waist.

“Don’t tell me you had a damn nightmare already,” he mutters against your hair, practically able to hear the hitch in your breath after such an unsettling silence.

“Let me guess. The Walking Dead?”

“Nuh uh.” You mumble, silently thankful for the sound of his beating heart close to your ear, a smile tickling your face. “Shaun of the Dead.”

“Christ’s sake,” he grunts out, adjusting the position of his head, settling his cheek along your skull. The upside over movie streaming, he can tell if you’re lying about it in the morning on your watch history.

He didn’t ask what you dreamt of, not yet at least. He didn’t want to know, not unless you offered, or he was cruel enough to pry. For now, Simon wondered what that dream would’ve meant, if it contained the undead.

He thought for a while, wondering if you found yourself dreaming you were bit by a zombie. What an impossible image for him to come by.

Your hair smelled of honey and oat, your skin kissed with warm sugar from your lotion, and a faint butteriness from your homemade dark chocolate drizzled popcorn you made for horror movie night.

No, you were too sweet to be considered sickly deceased in such a crude manner. Him, however?

No, no he began to suspect, but those were thoughts he refused to ponder.

“Only one week in, an’ you’ve lost it. Don’t plan to watch anything with zombies for next weekend.”

“What about… Friday the 13th?”

“Pick something else in the morning, go back to sleep princess.”

-

Y’know how you’re trying to sleep and you wake up after feeling like falling? Imagine that. That’s what happened.

Idk how to write zombies, so this is all I got 🧍🏽‍♀️📱

[quinloki]

Birthday Request Event v2024

Gift Details ♥ Reader Style: cisfem Character: Aramaki Vibe: NSFW Consensual AU: Canon AU (writer's choice) Prompt: Lazy Morning Sex (writer's choice) Gift Giver: @thecrimsonacademic

Summary: Lazy morning sex with admiral Aramaki is really only lazy for him. Hang in there. >.> He's not going to - ahem - leaf you alone.

Content Notes: inappropriate use of a devil fruit, vine bondage, bondage, plant-based-sex, teasing, edging, Aramaki doesn't get out of bed, use of good girl, mdni

This birthday party is 18+, consensual unless explicitly stated otherwise, and BYOB

Aramaki woke from his peaceful sleep to the soft scent of coffee.

The perk of being at home was that you lived there. The bed, made for him, and maybe a little too big for you, was nice, but being able to sleep next to you, and with you, were really the best. He always slept better at home, and it was always difficult to will himself out of bed because of it.

You took such good care of him when he was home, and even more than that, holding down the proverbial fort for him while he was gone made it less of a burden for him to even have a home. Something he’d considered just getting rid of before meeting you. He wanted to do everything he could for you to show his appreciation.

Well, it wasn’t like he had to get out of bed to do that.

Vines crept from the bed and traveled along the wooden floors the short distance between the bedroom and the kitchen. He heard you gasp when he poked your leg, and the soft chuckle, and weak scolding you gave him for startling you carried down the hall.

“I’m almost done making coffee, shoo.” You say, gently pushing the vines away from your leg.

“Coffee can wait.” He mutters into the soft pillow. You might not have heard him clearly, but he’s sure you understood the tone.

Vines slip up your legs, careful and swift, giving you no time to argue. You could turn him away if you wanted to, he wouldn’t push you terribly, but there was little reason to stop him this morning. If you had to make another pot of coffee later, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

The vines braced you easily, lifting you off the floor a little. You expected him to drag you back into the bedroom, but instead he left you where you were, vines coiling under your night shirt. The flexible tendrils wriggled against you with knowing skill, tickling and tantalizing you at the same time. Soft little bubbles of laughter would turn into sweet gasps and moans as his vines wrapped carefully around the swell of your breasts, flicking at the hardening nubs of your nipples.

“Ah-Aramaki… wait,” you gasp as the vines spread your legs and pull your arms behind your back. Coiled vines rub against your slit, and the bumpy surface teases your clit with every motion.

“Don’t hold back,” he says the words softly but you can hear them easily as they vibrate along his vines. “I want to hear you, sweet sapling, and feel you.” The vines tighten against you, hugging you close as the coiled length pushes into you with ease.

You cry out at the sweet pleasure, realizing as he moves inside you that the number of vines are increasing, slowly stretching you to mimic the size of your lover. Vines coiled against your feet, rubbed coolly against your thighs, supporting you and keeping you in place at the same time. They rolled along your arms and against your back, keeping you immobile and comforted in the same motion.

The pleasure between your thighs was heightened by the flick and coil of smooth vines teasing your breasts. Soft lengths of foliage pressed against your lips, parting them and caressing the side of your face, letting your breathy moans out into the kitchen.

Even with him still laying in bed, you could feel his eyes on you, the rough sensation of his hands moving over your body. The way he seemed to devour you even if he was several feet away.

The cold slick of a wet vine lapping at your clit makes you cry out in surprise and pleasure, squirming against the rising bliss that’s crackling through a body that can do little more than shiver within the pliant, and smooth bark-covered vines holding it in place. Your toes curl and your fingers flex as you begin to pant into the air, blood rushing through you as your heart beat quickens.

“Ara… Aramaki, please, please!” You gasp as the euphoria builds. You know he’s riding you along the edge of it on purpose, the ebb and surge of pleasure is too controlled. It ebbs again and you whimper.

The coil of vines deep in your wet pussy twist and swell in response, stretching you more than you had been before. The dull ache is nothing compared to the desperate need and you wail frustration and desire as the pleasure ebbs again.

The sound ripped from your lips was apparently the song he wanted this morning. The vines inside and out ply favors from your sweetest spots and the rush of euphoria is too much.

“Cum.” The command is viscerally growled into your very being, and you obey.

Every muscle in your body snaps taut as pleasure crackles like lightning through you. The relentless assault pries a primal, lusty sound from your throat as you try uselessly to get away from the overwhelming pleasure. The messy wet sound of your orgasm drips onto the floor as the vines move you toward the bedroom.

Sense comes back to you as the vines deposit you carefully onto Aramaki’s broad chest. Teary, a little too senseless still to stop from drooling on him, you sigh from the warmth and the sensation of the vines leaves you. His hand is on your back soothingly as you rest against him.

“Good girl,” he muses, the rumble of his voice as soothing as a purr against your skin. The word alone makes you moan involuntarily, and the soft knowing chuckle from him makes your skin flush with embarrassed warmth.

“Another, warmer round, my sweet sapling?” He prompts, tilting his comfortable body enough to catch your gaze. “One just as satisfying, I promise.”

Vines shift you just a little and the hard, hot, throbbing head of your lover’s cock presses into your labia. You want to argue that your poor pussy is already aching, but the truth of it wouldn’t be lost to Aramaki. He knows you down to your roots.

You were aching, certainly, but with need, not pain.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Hey!! Congratulations on reaching 1200 followers! That's a great milestone, and you deserve them all. You're such a light in this fandom and I'm so happy to have crossed paths with you!

So, if I'm not too late, could I maybe get a soft, romantic letter from Crosshair? I think it would really make me swoon 💖

Thank you so much! I’m so happy to know you too 💕And of course you may have some soft, romantic Crosshair. He might be gruff on the outside, but for you he shows that tender side. I’m imagining that you have some type of job on Kamino so he gets to see you every time he’s back at base. 

My angel,

Thank you for the care package you tucked away for me in my gear. I managed to eat a few of the cookies before Wrecker saw them and gave me those annoying puppy dog eyes of his. You’ll be happy to know the whole squad enjoyed them. But what I didn’t show them was the beautiful pictures that you included. Those are just for me. I put one inside the chestplate of my armor so that you’ll always be with me, and the others are tacked up here in my bunk on the Marauder. There’s nothing better than seeing my pretty baby smiling down at me. Well, nothing better than being with you, of course. I am counting the days until we’re back on base and you can be in my arms again. I wish you could meet me there in the hanger with a big kiss, mostly because I just love kissing you, but also because it would make all those regs really jealous. I know how much they’d love it if a beauty like you ever looked their way, but lucky for me, you like ‘em extra tall and lanky. Don’t worry though, I know we still have to keep this quiet. I wouldn’t want to put you or your career in any type of trouble. We’ll make the most of our time together as we always do. Besides, I’ve found some great little hidden away spots where we can cuddle up and have a very nice time. Although maybe if you’re up for something a bit more daring, I did hear that Nala Se’s office has a very comfortable couch in it. Seriously though, I just want to spend some time alone with you. I love hearing your stories and just listening to your voice. And when you wrap those little arms around me and hold me tight, I feel as if I could take on the whole Separatist army alone. You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met, and you’re the whole reason I keep fighting on. Because if I can make this galaxy just a little safer for you, then it will be worth it. Two more days, baby, until then I’ll just have to dream of you.

Yours,

Crosshair

There's a few more days to send in an ask!