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pastpatientlywaitingforimagines · 5 years

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Dragonology | Charlie Weasley x femHufflepuff!Reader Part 7.

Warnings: Romance, kissing, alcohol, dragons

Part 1

DRAGONOLOGY FAQ

Mrs. Weasley was satisfyingly surprised when you showed up in the Burrow. She asked you all about the tournament and how Harry had done in the first task, though you admittedly were more focused on the logistics of dragons than how the Champions did. When Arthur got home from work he pulled you and Charlie both into a tight hug, stating how excited he was to see you again.

Having mostly only been at the Burrow during school breaks, it was a treat to have the whole house and Charlie’s parents all to yourselves. As you sat in front of the fireplace with a full stomach, Charlie’s arm over your shoulders, and Celestina Warbeck crooning in the background, Molly asked an unintentionally loaded question.

“When are you returning to Romania?” Charlie felt your muscles tense as you thought of the days ahead of you.

“Saturday we’re going to see (y/n)’s parents, and then we’ll head back to the Sanctuary,” he answered for you, his thumb rubbing comforting circles into your arm.

“How lovely of you to visit family while you’re here for work,” Molly then went into talking about wedding plans and updating you about how Bill was doing in Egypt.

As Charlie joined you in bed that night, you posed him a question.

“Do your parents know about my parents?”

“That they exist, yes. Why you haven’t talked to them in years, no. I think I mentioned that your relationship was ‘strained’ once, but I never went into detail and they never asked further. You were always happy and healthy here, so Mum never really questioned it,” he pulled you onto his chest, starting to run his fingers through your hair.

“Do you think we should invite my parents to the wedding?” Your voice was small and unsure, traits that Charlie had never used to describe you in the many years he had known you. He pondered your question for a minute. You were his (y/n). His perfect, wonderful, strong, beautiful, confident, kind (y/n). You wore your heart on your sleeve proudly, and tried your best to find fulfillment in everything you did. It was obvious to everyone around you how strong you were, including Charlie who knew parts of you that nobody else did. That was why he hated what your relationship with your parents did to you. You faced death every day with pride and confidence, but even the thought of seeing your parents sent you hiding in a shell.

Instead of answering, he gave you an apology.

“I’m sorry I suggested we visit them. I thought it would be the right thing. I still stand by all of my reasons why you should repair your relationship with them, but seeing what it does to you solidifies why you haven’t and why you shouldn’t. This isn’t the (y/n) that I know.”

As his fingers ran through your hair, your fingers played with the fabric of his shirt.

“The (y/n) you know laughs in the face of death every day. You’re right though, this is something that has haunted me for years. Maybe once I get past it I can be even tougher than I have been while avoiding it. That still doesn’t answer the question I asked though. Should we invite them to the wedding?”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“We could invite them and they could say no. Or they could show up and make a fuss about how there’s magic, even though we’re wizards and our wedding is going to be magical. Or they could show up and object to the marriage because you’re a wizard. Honestly Charlie, there’s a lot of possibilities.”

“What’s the best that could happen?”

“They could accept the invitation and be happy for us and our beautiful, magical wedding.”

“I like that option.”

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Is it worth the risk of inviting them if that could possibly happen?”

“I suppose.”

“Let’s feel it out then. I want to tell them we’re getting married, it’s important to me that they know. If they take it semi-well, we’ll invite them. If they don’t take it well, then they won’t get invited,” Charlie pressed a kiss into the top of your head.

“That’s a good plan,” your voice sounded stronger, more like the (y/n) Charlie was familiar with.

“I meant it when I said I’m always here for you,” Charlie hummed.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, so much.”

Charlie repeated his words when you stood in front of the small white house in the Muggle neighborhood, your hand firmly in his.

“You can do this, I’m here for you, and I love you no matter what.”

You took a deep breath,

“I’m ready.”

You approached the door, then hesitated, so Charlie knocked on the door. You heard a small commotion from the other side (“Lloyd can you get the door?) before it opened, revealing your father on the other side. Your hand involuntarily tightened around Charlie’s.

“(y/n)?”

“Hi Dad,” you shrugged.

“Lloyd? Who is it-?” your mother came around the corner, stopping in her tracks at the sight of you and your red-haired fiancé.

“Well don’t just stand there in the cold, come in,” she invited. As you crossed the threshold into your childhood home, you could almost feel your wand get heavier in your jacket pocket.

You perched on the edge of the sofa as your mother brought out some tea. While your relationship with your parents was strained to say the least, there was no denying that your love of the hot beverage had been inherited from Lisa (y/l/n).

“For what do we owe this… pleasure?” she said through gritted teeth once everyone was settled.

“We were in the area for work and wanted to stop by before heading back to Romania,” you said carefully.

“You’re living in Romania now? What are you doing there?” your father asked calmly, a hand on your mother’s knee.

“We work at… an animal sanctuary. Training animals,” you deadpanned.

“You’ve been ‘in the area’ before and never visited, why now?” Lisa was not going to sit through awkward small talk.

Charlie spoke up, dropping your hand for the first time since you had entered the house.

“I asked that we come actually. I’m Charlie Weasley,” he stuck his hand out into the tense space between you and your parents. Each of your parents shook it gingerly, “of course, you may have already known that, seeing how (y/n) and I have known each other since we were in school. Back in August I was lucky enough to have (y/n) agree to marry me, and it was important to me that you knew about our engagement.”

You were impressed with Charlie’s bravery, though you watched many feelings flash across your parents’ faces as they glanced down to your left hand. After a few minutes of silence, your mother stood up and grabbed you by the wrist, dragging you into the kitchen and leaving Charlie with Lloyd.

“You’re getting married?” She asked in a ferocious whisper once the door separating you from the men was closed.

“Yes. I love Charlie. He’s always been supportive of me, which is what people who love each other do. They support each other,” you shot back.

“He’s a wizard,” she stated, as if it were a crime.

“I’m a witch. It’s what magical people do, they marry each other,” you said angrily. While fighting with your mother was much scarier than an untamed, angry nesting dragon, you could feel your confidence building. If it was any reassurance, your mother probably wouldn’t kill you.

“I raised you better than this. Why couldn’t you have just stayed here and married a nice muggle man?”

“That’s the problem, Mum. You didn’t raise me. The little that you did do only suppressed the talents that I have, because you were too much of a coward to stand up to Dad and find a compromise to using magic. If you did raise me, I never would have gone to Hogwarts. I never would have met Charlie, whom I love, or gotten a job in Romania, which I love. I would have been a boring muggle like you.” The words came out of your mouth like fire.

“I did it because I love your father. I did it to protect us,” you could tell she was not going to back down.

“I don’t care why you did it, I’m just glad you weren’t successful. However,” your breath hitched, “I’m going to forgive you because I am an adult with my own, successful life. I am going to accept our differences and move on with life. If you would like to make the adult decision to do the same, then we can talk. If not, then this conversation is over.”

With that, you walked out of the kitchen. Autopilot from the numerous fights of your childhood took you upstairs to your small bedroom, which looked exactly the same as it had when you had last been there. Charlie had seen you leave the kitchen, excused himself from your father, and followed you upstairs.

“How did it go?” he asked, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands as you turned to face him.

“I stood up to her. It was strange,” you breathed.

“Like the Weird Sisters poster you have on your wall?” Charlie gestured to the outdated band poster with a smile. This was the first time he had been in your childhood room, and though the situation was tense he was enjoying this small time capsule of your teenage years.

“Last time I was here I was 15 years old, packing up my most important belongings to spend the summer with you. The Weird Sisters just didn’t make the cut,” you joked half-heartedly. Charlie laughed his familiar, hearty, laugh. You joined him, though your laugh turned quickly into tears. Charlie pulled you into his strong frame and let you cry. For a person so driven by their emotions, Charlie had rarely seen you cry. You had previously told him that it was because being with him made you happy and you didn’t need to cry when he was the one with you at the end of the day, but he wondered now if it was because this damage was so deep that everything else seemed minuscule and not worth crying about.

After a few minutes, he felt you regain control over your shaken breathing and slowly wiped the last tears away from your eyes.

“Your parents are still downstairs. I can apparate us to our brooms from here if you don’t want to face them,” he whispered into your ear before placing a gentle kiss to the skin there.

“The only time you have ever apparated without splinching was when the Ministry was giving us the license test,” Charlie was surprised you had any energy left to make jokes, no matter how true they were.

“I think I have enough determination to get you away from this place. I’m not surprised you spent so much time at the Burrow with me now,” you could tell he was sincere.

“I have to go back and face them. I have to end this.”

Charlie admired your determination as he followed you back down the stairs.

“(y/n),” you heard your father call to you from the living room. You followed his voice there, seeing him sitting next to your mother. Your hand immediately reached for Charlie’s.

“When your mother gave up… magic… it was to protect our family. When you were younger it was probably harder to understand. All we wanted was for you to be safe. While we do wish you had stayed here with us and lived a normal life, we are happy that you have built a life that you are happy with.”

Charlie gave your hand an encouraging squeeze.

“Well, um, we’d like to invite you to our wedding. We don’t have many details in place yet, other than it’s going to be at Charlie’s parent’s house. We’ll send you a formal invitation when we know more,” you said tentatively.

“We’ll be there, (y/n),” Lloyd said sincerely.

After exchanging mostly awkward goodbyes, you and Charlie stepped into the evening air and started walking towards where you had concealed your brooms.

“I didn’t realize we had decided the wedding was going to be at my parent’s house,” Charlie said with a smirk.

“Where else would we have it?”

“I don’t know, but I do know my mum will be awfully happy to hear we’ve started making wedding plans on our own.”

The sun was just peeking over the Romanian mountains when you touched down in front of your home.

“I need some tea,” you said, exhausted as you passed through the door.

“Do you want to talk about what happened at all?” Charlie asked once you were settled with a large cup.

“I guess it went pretty well, all things considered. My dad was right, once I found out about the wizarding world it was so hard to understand why anyone would give that up. I still don’t understand it. She sacrificed everything because he was scared about being involved in the wizarding world. I love you more than anything, but if you weren’t able to compromise with me about a major life choice you would be the first thing to go, not my whole lifestyle. I just don’t get it. Giving up your identity isn’t love. Love is getting to be your best self and sharing it with someone else.”

“Flying helped clear your head, hm?” he asked kindly, puttering around your small house and cleaning up the mess that had gone neglected as you prepared for your trip to Hogwarts.

“Partially. Feels like a weight is gone now that I’ve squared things up with my parents. You were right, it was time to move on.”

“Say that again?” Charlie asked cheekily. You threw a pillow at him in response.

The next six moths of your life were better described as snapshots of happy moments.

You and Charlie spent Christmas dancing to the Weird Sisters in the candlelight of your home with empty bottles of firewhiskey strewn about.

Early spring had you both surrounded by newborn dragon babies, the bags under your eyes growing deeper each night you stayed up caring for them.

In late spring you were able to start wedding planning, both of you hunched over your kitchen table as you decided on colors and guests and dates. Joyful laughter could be heard from your house as you teased and fought over details that seemed small in the grand scheme of life.

At the end of June, your plans changed.

“Did you see the Prophet?” Charlie asked as you came out of your bedroom, having changed after work.

“Not yet, why? What’s wrong?” you took the paper from him, eyes wide when you saw the headline.

“But- but- that Skeeter woman wrote this. It can’t be true, can it?” you ripped your eyes from the page to meet Charlie’s.

“I don’t know, I sent an owl to my dad to see what he knows.”

“Do you want to go home?” You could see the worry on his face.

“Right now we’re needed here. Let’s wait until we hear back from my dad about how things really are,” he was unusually calm about the whole situation.

“Are you ok?” you ventured.

“You called it,” he mused, “you called it the night of the World Cup. You said you’d be surprised if it dissolved. You were right.”

“Charlie… If it is as bad as you think it is, let’s get married.”

Charlie looked at you in confusion.

“We are getting married?”

“I mean screw all the wedding plans, let’s grab my parents and have a small ceremony at the Burrow. Just your family, mine, and Callum because I already invited him. We don’t need all of this,” you gestured to the pile of wedding planning supplies on the table.

“But it has to be perfect,” he gaped. You laughed, juxtaposing the quiet of your house.

“You said the same thing when we got engaged,” you reminded him, “all I care about is getting to spend the rest of my life with you. With the way things are looking, the rest of our lives may be less time than we think. Let’s get married so that if we die in this war, I can die as your wife. If we survive, we’ll have the biggest party ever and celebrate like newlyweds should.”

Charlie pulled you into a deep kiss.

“Have I told you how much I love you recently?”

A/N: There you have it folks, all 16k+ words of a decently ok Charlie fic. Leave a note if you enjoyed! I also have a few one-shot ideas for this universe, things I didn’t delve into during the story but 100% could. Leave a comment if you want to see them!

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#charlie weasley #charlie weasley ff #charlie weasley fanfic #charlie weasley fanfiction #charlie weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfic

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vanityhes · 5 years

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Another Man (one shot)

Inspired by this pic of drunk Harry at the Another Man launch party last year. He looked too fine to not write about. Sorry if I hyped it up too much and isn’t as filthy as y’all expected.

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The bones in my feet cracked and a long groan emitted from my body as I stretched from my head to my toes. I had been cramped up in the same position for the past five or six hours, occasionally taking a stretch break every once in a while to make sure blood was still flowing. It was a Saturday night and I usually spent them with Harry but tonight was different. I had a 10 page research report due on Monday about mental diseases and therapy, just now finishing after slaving away for several hours.

Usually I had my work done during the week but I was distracted everyday because of Harry. He was stressing out about the launch of his feature in Another Man magazine. I had to help him plan his launch party and make sure he had the right suit and other things that seem unimportant now. The party was scheduled to tonight, and of course I couldn’t go with Harry.

At first, Harry was reluctant to go without me, feeling bad that I was stuck at home doing work while he was celebrating with his friends and having a good time. I forced him to go. After all, the party was for him and not me. Admittedly, I was disappointed in the fact that I would be missing such an important event for him and I knew how much he wanted me to be there. But I had pushed off the assignment for too long and if it weren’t done today, then it would never get done.

I heard the chime of the alarm system go off, indicating that a door had just opened. Knowing it was Harry, I wasn’t alarmed when I heard him whistling the same tune he always did as his footsteps padded up the stairs to our bedroom. Harry came into view, staring down at his phone as he tapped a message to someone.

“Still awake, I see,” he said, continuing to type his message as I sat criss-crossed in front of my laptop. His words were slightly slurring together but not as much as they would if he were really drunk.

“Mhmm. Have a fun time at your party?” I replied, saving my work and shutting the laptop before pushing it to the side.

“Yeah. Had a few drinks, if you don’t mind,” Harry said, glancing at me for only a second before looking back at his phone. “I see you’ve had some, too.” He was referring to the almost empty glass of wine I had sitting on the bedside table.

“Well, I had to celebrate you somehow. Even if it was just by myself,” I quipped happily. I don’t know if it was the wine or I was just glad he was home after a long day but I had this tingly feeling in my toes. Not to mention, he certainly looked delicious. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top with his tie hanging loosely around his neck. His lips were as pink as ever, surrounded by a week’s worth of stubble, and his eyes were drooping slightly from being tipsy. He had cut his hair a few months ago, getting rid of the long locks that went past his shoulders and introducing a new hairstyle that I’d never imagine seeing on him. It suited him, making him look even older and more mature. All I could say was that he looked delicious, even this late at night.

Harry rambled on about his night, talking about the many celebrities that congratulated him on this magazine cover and how his older sister was highly jealous of him. His already loose tie was discarded on the dresser along with the many rings he wore on his fingers. He made his way to the closet to take off the rest of his clothes, making light conversation with me as he did this.

“I wish you would’ve come, love. Probably would’ve been more fun,” he said.

“Me too. Maybe next time,” I replied.

“Mum wouldn’t stop asking ‘bout you. She was running my ear the entire night, saying I shouldn’t have left the only girl she’s ever liked all by herself at home. Almost think she loves you more than I do.”

I laughed softly. Anne never failed to shower me with love in any way possible, even if it meant overlooking Harry completely. She always said that I was the perfect match for Harry, and everyday I believed her more. We were in sync in and we rarely fought, and if we did it always ended with rough sex.

My skin was on fire. All I wanted to do was kiss him and let him touch me everywhere. “Harry?”

“Yeah?” Harry replied, completely disregarding the fact that I cut him off mid-sentence. He was rambling on about George Barnett telling him a joke that only Harry would find funny. I could still hear him rummaging around in the closet.

“Can you come here?” I said trying not to sound whiny.

“Give me a minute. These bloody shoes are a bit hard to get off,” Harry said as he grunted in frustration. He continued on with his story that seemed to drag on and on.

I sighed. This was taking longer than I expected and the heat between my legs was causing me to squirm. “Baby?”

Harry emerged from the closet, still wearing his loose button up shirt and pants. “What is it?” He asked.

I bit my lip and motioned my finger for him to come here. A small smirk spread across his lips as he came closer, his tall frame towering over me while I sat on my knees on the bed. I leaned in for a kiss, humming against his lips as I felt knots in my stomach form. Harry’s lips moved slowly but expertly on mine as his hand slid from my cheek to the back of my neck and into my hair. His other hand cupped my face, stroking my cheek with his thumb. Harry was an amazing kisser, always knowing when to use his tongue and how much to use.

The stubble around his mouth and on his chin tickled me but I had to hold back my laugh. I could only imagine how it’d feel if it were tickling the insides of my thighs instead while I rode his face.

Harry detached our lips and pecked my cheek. “One of those nights, huh?” he asked with a small smirk on his lips that made me want to kiss him even more. His thumb ran over my lips and pulled my bottom lip down as I nodded my head and whimpered a little, craving to feel his lips on mine again. I licked the tip of his thumb before enveloping it into my mouth, sucking lightly and making Harry hum.

“Missed you. And your fingers,” I hummed. Harry slipped two of his fingers into my mouth, allowing me to suck on them like I would his cock, bobbing my head up and down against him. I maintained eye contact with him because I knew how much it drove him crazy. I didn’t mind tasting the metal of his rings. I was too focused on the tips of his fingers poking at the back of my throat, making me gag but turn him on at the same time. I gagged once more before pulling back and licking his fingers, a small giggle coming from my spit covered lips that curved into a sinister smile.

“God, you’re so sexy, beautiful, gorgeous,” he said, cupping my face again and kissing me in between each praise. My hands ran up and down his exposed chest. I fucking loved it when he had the first few buttons of his shirt undone, exposing his toned chest and the cross necklace that dangled on his collarbones. Something about it made me crazy and want to jump his bones in a heartbeat.

I pulled away for a brief second just to whine, “fuck me,” before planting kisses from the corner of Harry’s mouth down to his neck and collarbones. I took the cross necklace between my teeth and looked up at Harry, who had his lips parted slightly, nearly drooling at the sight of his girl begging for it.

Harry held my chin between his forefinger and thumb, lifting it up slightly and releasing the necklace from my teeth. He placed a soft kiss to my lips that earned a soft moan from me.

“I’m tempted. Not tonight, kitten. M'really drained. What good would a half-assed fuck be if I can’t give you the pleasure you want?” Harry said. The hand that he had on the back of my neck rubbed circles in my hair. There was no way that all of that didn’t even make him hard.

I pouted, feeling desperate just for a touch from him. “Please, just a little bit,” I begged. “Doesn’t have to be for long. Just put the tip in and I’ll cum in minutes. I need you.”

Harry chuckled softly and pressed kisses on my lips and cheeks. As much as he loved when I begged like this, he wasn’t budging. “Sorry, love. Tomorrow,” he said. He placed a tender kiss on my lips once more before disappearing back into the closet to take off the rest of his clothes and change into something more fitting for sleep.

I sighed in defeat as I plopped down in bed and shut off my bedside lamp. Harry slid into bed next to me, wrapping his arm around my body and pulling me closer. He nibbled on my earlobe before kissing it and nuzzling his face into the crook of my neck before mumbling a good night that I reciprocated kindly but bitterly.

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Sleep wasn’t an option since I kept waking up every hour, craving for Harry. We’d barely touched each other all week except for when I sucked him off while he was driving home on Tuesday.

It was three in the morning and all I could think about was me riding his cock or even his face. I whimpered as my mind flickered to the thoughts of his pretty pink lips covered with juices from my orgasm as he inched me towards the brink of another one. My thighs squeezed together just thinking about the dirty things he’d say to me like “so wet for me kitten” or “fuck you taste so good” or “I bet your pussy would feel so good on my cock”

Judging by the way he was breathing, I knew Harry was fast asleep, so there was no chance of me waking him up for a 3 am quickie, for he’d be angry and tell me to go back to sleep. Even though he was knocked out, I could still feel his bulge behind me. This usually happened whenever we slept like this. I usually wore one of his T shirts and panties to sleep— sometimes skipping the latter— and he would wear boxers or shorts without underwear. Harry would get his morning wood because I moved too much in my sleep and I usually ignored it but tonight was different. His arm was wrapped around my waist and his breath was on the back of my neck. I decided to do the one thing that would help my situation.

I circled my hips slowly, rubbing my ass up and down Harry’s growing bulge. A quiet whimper came from me as I continued to do this.

Harry’s breathing changed slightly as I grinding against him to get the friction I needed. I could feel his body become lighter as he woke up a little, dry humping me even though he was still asleep. A small moan came from his throat, which earned one from me.

“Harry,” I moaned softly as I rubbed up and down my slit through my panties.

“Not now, baby,” Harry’s raspy voice said lowly. His arm pulled me closer and his face nuzzled into my neck. The grinding stopped and my heart sunk.

I whimpered in response but it sounded like a short cry, though that would be plausible since I was in so much agony at the moment.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was barely audible even with him right next to my ear. “Hm, tell me what’s wrong.”

I turned around to face him, who still had his eyes closed but they struggled to stay open after a long day of anxiousness, excitement, and fatigue. “I want you,” I moaned softly, kissing his lips and begging for him to take me. “Please, daddy.”

A low grumble sounded from his throat as he rubbed his eyes. “’s that bad, innit?” He asked. His green eyes drooped from tiredness, and for a second, I felt bad for waking him up.

“Yeah,” I replied.

Harry sighed as his fingers reached under the covers and hooked onto the waist band of my panties before snapping them against my skin to tell me to take them off. I did so quickly and kicked them off the bed as to not waste time. Harry grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him, sliding down on the bed so my wet lips were positioned right on top of his.

“’s this what yeh wanted, kitten?” Harry hummed, kissing the inside of my thighs and inching dangerously close to my entrance. “Waking me up at three in the morning just so I can eat your pussy?”

“Yes, daddy,” I moaned. My legs trembled as his tongue made a long stride up my slit. Harry’s tongue worked wonders against my heat, flicking up against my sensitive clit. His moans rumbled through my entire body as he suckled against the bundle of nerves. “Oh, baby.”

Harry’s arm wrapped around my thigh and his thumb rubbed circles around my clit. The only noises in the room was the sound of Harry’s lips smacking against my wet pussy hungrily and me moaning his name simultaneously. Harry’s eyes never lost contact with mine as he at me out so gloriously until he shut his eyes as if this was the greatest feeling in the world; having his girl sitting on his face and riding his mouth like she would his cock.

My legs felt like jelly as I neared closer to my orgasm, Harry pushing me on with dirty talk. He reached up and squeezed my breasts. “That’s right, kitten. Ride my face just like that,” Harry said. His voice was muffled under me but it was enough to drive me over the edge. Harry flicked his tongue at just the right angle, making me feel like my insides were on fire and like I was riding on a cloud.

“Fuck, baby. Right there,” I moaned breathlessly. Harry continued flicking his tongue rapidly as he squeezed my ass and smacked it harshly. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as a strong orgasm rippled through my body and my juices spilled on Harry’s tongue. Muscles taut and toes curling, a series of involuntary moans pushed past my lips. I had to lift myself off Harry’s mouth otherwise I’d be screaming loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Harry kissed the inside of my thighs sweetly before flipping me under him. His lips pressed softly to my cheek, neck, and down my body as he pushed my shirt— or rather his shirt— above my breasts. His tongue swirled around both of my nipples briefly before leaving my body entirely.

A sigh left his lips as he fumbled with the hem of his shorts that he began pulling down. I was starting to feel bad for waking him up after only a couple hours of sleep. “Harry, you don’t have to do that,” I said, trying to push his hands away but he smacked them away.

“You wanted this, didn’t you, love?” He said, a tired smile spreading across his lips. His eyes were glowing even with his dark pupils engulfing the emerald irises.

Harry discarded his shorts on the floor before mounting me. He spread my legs wide and positioned himself on his knees in between mine, all while pulling my hips towards him more. A grunt of approval came from him as he rubbed my wet slit with the tip of his cock. I held my breath as he pushed in, never getting used to the way it felt having his length in me.

Once he was fully in me I couldn’t hold my breath anymore. Harry began thrusting into me slowly but deeply. I could tell he was concentrating hard on everything that made me feel good as his eyebrows furrowed deeply. His hips rocked back in forth at a slow pace, which usually had me growing impatient but this time it felt just right.

Our skin stuck together as his hips glided into my softly. The air in the room was filled with my soft moans and Harry’s heavy breathing. I love the way he looked when he fucked me so good like this. It was like the only thing that mattered to him was that I was content and feeling all the pleasure I could, having it all come from him.

One of his large hands squeezed my breasts before sliding up to wrap around my neck. I couldn’t hide the devilish grin that spread across my face, and I knew that Harry saw it too. “You like that, don’t you? Hmm, you like it when daddy chokes you a bit?” Harry cooed quietly. A cheeky grin twitched at the corners of his mouth, making large dents in his cheeks. It made me giggle but the feeling was so good that I couldn’t suppress my moans.

I didn’t mean to whine and moan so much but this slow pace was driving me to the edge. Harry’s soft lips were slightly parted with his bottom lip always jutting out and begging to be kissed and sucked on. I pulled him closer so I could do just that, not caring that sleep was on his breath. At first, his lips moved lazily on mine but they soon gave in and melted onto my skin. Harry’s tongue was always first to invade my mouth but it was never in a bad way.

Harry’s pace began to quicken, making him hit the right spot more frequently now and leaving me a moaning mess under him. My fingers tangled in his hair as his lips moved from mine to my neck. My other hand squeezed his ass because I knew how much he liked it. Harry always thought it was my silent way of begging him to go deeper and hit harder. And that’s exactly what he did.

“Shit,” Harry groaned as his hips crashed against mine faster and harder. The bed creaked under us, making me smile because you’d think that a multimillionaire like Harry would have more than enough money to buy a bed that was less noisy. He claimed that he liked the sounds it made when he’s fucking me good.

“Fuck me,” I whined softly in Harry’s ear. There’s nothing more that he loved than to hear me whining and begging in his ear while he fucked me deep like this. I couldn’t control my moans anymore and my muscles were growing taut. I knew harry could feel my walls clenching around him based on the helpless moans omitting from him that he tried to conceal. Words need not to be spoken as my moans spoke for me, reaching a higher volume than before. My toes curled and my stomach knotted, leaving my body shaking as I climaxed around Harry’s cock.

As I caught my breath, Harry continued thrusting inside of me. “C'mon, baby. Cum for me. I know how much you like fucking me like this, yeah? You like when I squeeze my walls around you like that?” I whispered in Harry’s ear before nibbling on it.

“Oh, fuck me,” Harry groaned. It took a few more strokes and the aid of my moans to get Harry to come inside of me. His warm release filled me up in a way that I would never get used to.

For a moment we just lied there panting and being lost for words. Looking up at the ceiling, I was seeing more than just the chandelier. I was seeing stars and colors even though the room was nearly pitch black. Harry always had this affect on me and I knew I had it on him too.

When I was finally done struggling for air, I felt Harry’s soft lips pecking my neck and chest. “Such a horny girl. Maybe I shouldn’t have left you alone for so long,” Harry said with a chuckle. He pulled himself out of me, making me whimper at the sudden cold and emptiness, and disappeared into the bathroom. When he came back, he had a wet rag that he used to clean me up with before using it on himself.

“You’re so good to me,” I said softly. Harry climbed back into bed with me and pecked my lips.

“Anythin’ for my baby.”

#harry styles #harry styles smut #smut #dirty fic #fan fic #one shot #dirty one shot #one direction #future reference #smutty #another man #harry styles another man #harry styles one shot #1d dirty imagine #2019 #repost from 2017

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fulcrum-agent · 6 years

Note

8: What is one mistake you've made while roleplaying?

This is super personal, so it’s going under a cut.

Since towards the end of SWG’s original height, near the time City of Heroes launched, but before EQ2 landed, the person I was dating and living with brought up the idea of having our characters in different MMOs become couples.

It wasn’t all that much of a mistake, initially. Even though he and I parted ways, it didn’t have many immediate effects.

By GW2 and SW: TOR, I got into a fairly long term (10 years) relationship again with my first fiancee. Initially, we were in different states, so we made our TOR characters a couple - our group did about 2 years of pre-game RP - though that didn’t happen in GW2 because I nope out on Asura in that manner unless I’m playing an Asura.

And that’s where things became a long, spiralling mistake. Through several games, up till the relaunch of XIV, our main characters were always romantically involved.

Fast forward a bit to December 2013. I met someone in XIV who ended up becoming my main’s oathsworn (she’s not one for marriage, at all). He lived here in the same state as I do, just two hours away, so the fiancee and I went to meet him; sometime within that month, he became part of the Household, and we started dating OOC. My fiancee liked him well enough, but always was a touch wary of him; I wasn’t sure why till after a car wreck in November 2016.

He showed us an image of himself as a teenager/young 20 year old, and he looked uncannily like the person who high-level gaslighted me as a young teen (which is another story for another time). That was only rather reinforced during the next election primaries, as my CPTSD was shot from the car wreck, and I had a night terror that was almost entirely realistic (pro tip - if you get night terrors never use sleep masks because instead of the shadowy shapes you see in normal night terrors, it reverts to REM level image creation).

The night terror was that someone had come into my room, then got into the bed, and was forcibly turning me towards them, then trying to pull me to them in a very possessive, domineering manner. The face was obscured because there was bright light in the room behind him (as it I was apparently aware it was midday), but it was impossible to tell if it was the person who gaslighted me (one of the politicians here has a name from that mess, I don’t deal well with political season here) and the guy I met in XIV.

He was very good at manipulation, he was very mentally abusive. After my fiancee moved back home for a job in September 2014, this guy only got worse with the abuse. Although I had been gaslighted as a teen, the textbook type of gaslighting is a tad unfamiliar to me; after you have someone nearly hardwire your reality into something that almost belongs in a novel, it’s actually pretty fucking hard to recognise lesser abuse.

This person was also exceptionally controlling, telling me how to run my FC even after he’d stopped being an officer. Telling me how to write stories for the FC RPs, and getting super passive-aggressive if I didn’t agree to it, rather than trying to hash out better ideas together. He also was so insecure - coupled with his controlling nature, mind you - that he basically forced every single one of my character into some sort of relationship RP, and threw fits if it seemed like the few who weren’t attached got into relationship RP; after any one of them seemed to be getting romantically involved with someone, he rather pushed one of his characters into romancing that character, until I’d relent to it.

Initially, I wasn’t so bothered by it, I’d RP’d relationships with people I’d dated before at that point, and the time spent with my fiancee before this all happened had started conditioning me into it. It was after the first time this person demanded I stopped RP’ing with someone that things started to bother me.

Unfortunately, with this person, it all became conditioned into me. I tried several times to untangle my characters after we started having massive fights - which he never got into a fight with me unless we were alone, another massive manipulator/gaslighting trick - because at that point, he wasn’t playing XIV much, and because of the car wreck in 2016, he’d moved into the other room because I literally could not be touched without massive pain (well, more than usual, fuck you fibromyalgia). I wanted to be able to continue growth with my characters, especially my main character, but any progress I made lead to him having a fit over it, and another fight.

He also always insisted things weren’t as bad as they seemed. He used a borderline personality disorder trait, splitting, against me; he’d claim he hadn’t done anything terrible, and that I was just splitting - however, largely, I learned to handle my issues with splitting in the early 2000s, after I learned I had BPD, though admittedly, his shite made it very difficult not to have splitting occur more frequently.

Eventually, someone very dear to me was on Discord with me while I was laid up from a surgery. The kindness and caring that person was showing me had been waking me up to what was going on. The day this occurred, there had been a horrible fight before the guy left for work, cus I could literally not do anything, and had an issue with the bedding, and he flipped out about absolutely having to stay home and fix it when I could have just waited by going to sleep in a lazy-boy downstairs - which I had told him, but he made the almost executive decision to deal with it himself.

After my fiancee, our future houseboy, and this person saw what I wrote out to describe it, I managed to explain what happened to my mum, and when this guy got home that day, she told him he had to move out.

The freak out he had over that was amazing. He came upstairs, heard me laughing with the dearheart who was trying to help me get back to being at least mentally/emotionally functional, and just demanded I get off the call. He refused to accept the 24 hour rule, or that I actually did not feel up to it. I was so freaked out, that I didn’t disconnect the Discord call properly, I just pulled the headset out.

Little did myself and that dearheart know, at the time, but that flips Discord into speakerphone; he muted his mic, and listened to the whole incident. This guy yelled at me, demeaned me, and bullied me into a grand maul panic attack in which I lost the ability to speak, and even move. And instead of backing off, he threatened to get my panic medication and force the conversation to continue. I can’t even remember what caused him to back off from it, but he did. Plugged the headset back in, and found out that it never disconnected, and everything was finally heard.

That single thing snapped the last chain keeping me from ending things with that person. It took him a couple of months to move out, and he was still very aggressive frequently; I had to go to Philly for an appointment, and he was being so aggressive about spending the day there even though I had planned to spend time with the person who overheard the fight via Discord, the nurse took me back to the room, and immediately asked me about domestic violence (and that was really the first time I had a good cry about it - the appointment ended up being 2 hours, because their DVU came to talk to me).

I didn’t often take it laying down. I basically became a tiger that got cornered - I would unsheathe the claws, and lash out, in an attempt to get him to back away from me, frequently. Towards the end, I was having to do so several times a week. But it was either fight back, or be totally undone. Literally, the only thing that ever worked to stop him was psychological warfare.

However, even after all that, I discovered that what he did with XIV (in particular) had left some pretty lasting ramifications.

The first of which is that I discovered that it had literally become hardwired into my brain that the game is experienced with your significant other. I get extreme anxiety about things when someone I’m with has their characters romantically involved with others - which the fact that it’s a thing pisses me off greatly. For a time, I also had issues bothering with the MSQ, because that was something that was done with the ex for basically four years; that’s gotten significantly better, as I’ve done the past two patches without someone going through them with me.

The weirdness about character relationships isn’t going away though, even when the other person is only doing it 100% IC. I’m trying to break out of that mindset, but it’s fucking difficult as hell.

I also now get massive anxiety when a stranger starts any sort of flirty or romantic RP towards my characters. Even people I’ve known a few months trigger that anxiety. Because I don’t want them to do what the ex did again, now that I’ve figured out the lasting repercussions.

So, after all that, I feel like ever getting involved with relationship RP with someone I was dating was a huge mistake.

Thanks for the ask, @vianne-solainteau - sorry it was so ah…heavy.

#personal #rant-like #try not to think about this whole thing much #thank gods for the boy that helped me realise wtf was going on #vianne-solainteau #prompt answers

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mybumpbirthandbeyond · 4 years

Text

Strength

For those of you who have the chance to see my physio consults through Gráinne’s Diastasis Revolution course, or come to see them through Antony’s Diastasis Project, you’ll see I’m as honest in those consults as I am in these blogs. Regardless of those being made public or not, I think it’s so important to be honest - how else can my physios help if I’m not honest about what’s happening or how am I feeling? They aren’t just physios. They have never been just physios to me and never will be. They have been way more since day 1. Counsellors who have provided unwavering and limitless support and guidance, among other things. They have empowered me with knowledge from the start, and the freedom to think and feel. I feel I can be completely open and honest and more importantly, vulnerable with all three of them - something which I’m probably not comfortable with normally. We may have a good laugh a lot of the time (which is more than needed), but it is the ability to confide in them when others don’t understand that I am grateful for the most.

Our latest consult as a team shocked me. I was doing exercises I didn’t anticipate doing again until after pregnancy. Most of it I surprised myself with my ability despite being pregnant, but I do feel the need to err on the side of caution. Hard to believe I’m sure if you have the impression I’m a bit cavalier, but nothing could be further from the truth. I’m confident - there’s a difference. During that consult I had to be honest about something that had niggled me for a while. There was a suspicion I was on the verge of overtraining from previous months, which I totally respected and understood. I was doing a lot of exercises at high intensity four days a week. I was told that three days would probably be fine allowing me plenty of time to recover. I felt reluctant to agree because it didn’t feel like I was overtraining but the concern was I was close to, not that I was. I brought up the fact that I knew where they were coming from and freely admitted I can definitely train smarter next time round. The thing that happened this time (reluctant to say ‘problem’ as it wasn’t a problem as such) was that I was completely and utterly addicted to the progress, the changes, the high of achieving and succeeding where I never thought I could. I could physically see the progress and feel it and I couldn’t get enough. This was unspoken but my physios knew it and I knew it. I didn’t burn out and was constantly motivated and determined - probably why it was considered I was close to overtraining but they agreed I wasn’t.

I never wanted it to come across as disrespect or even disagreement which is why it was so important for me to clarify it with them. That, and my face told a story that I was pretty much stubborn in the face of that conversation. I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, but there are times when I cannot hide what I’m thinking by the expression on my face. The thing is, I don’t want anyone finding me difficult to deal with ‘how do we approach this with Claire?’ ‘How do we tell her to do X or to stop doing doing X?’ I want to make everyone’s life as easy possible. I might not want exercises to be easy, but I want the process to be easy, especially for my physios. I could not hold them in any higher regard if I tried. They are way up high on a pedestal and there is nothing they could do that could knock them off. They’ll be mortified at that I know, but it’s true.

I can never fail to underestimate how incredible my physios are. You would think that I would know the extent of it by now, but they continue to show more and more other sides which make them even more so. Antony said it didn’t bother him but he noticed the change in my expression 😂🙈 but that I wasn’t a troublemaker. It was in fact the opposite. That they had told me there was an electric fence and not to touch it, so what I had done was push to see how close I could get without touching it.

That made me laugh and also shocked me in equal measure. I’m not really a boundary pusher in any other aspects of my life, but here I was coming across as almost a cheeky toddler (a bit like my son) in seeing how far I could push it before I went too far. I said that made me sound like a rebel to which Antony said ‘I wish you would rebel and say screw it!’ 😂 I’ve been told that a few times in my life - I think people will me to put a foot wrong, to do something a bit daring, to misbehave. I have no idea why...

I’ve never been described as a rebel. I’m the opposite. I follow the rules and probably more of a goody two-shoes if I’m completely honest. I never got in trouble at school and was always described as a ‘model pupil.’ If someone told me not to do something I wouldn’t. Usually if I had the freedom to choose I would err on the side of caution, no exceptions. Climb a tree and swing off a branch? You could break your neck doing that don’t be silly 😂 Since I was about 18 months old I’ve been likened to a bit of a granny. I would say things that would make people comment, ‘she’s been here before,’ and I’ve always been mature for my age. That probably makes me sound like a really boring person. Hopefully people who know me, or have gotten to know me through this process don’t think that, but you never know!

I’ve been thinking about that since and why it should be that my diastasis was the thing that turned me into someone who pushes boundaries and flirts with going too far. I think it’s because the boundaries weren’t working for me. I was disciplined and followed the exact guidance in those early days to a T as always, and they were important at that time initially, but then they failed me. When things started to progress and the boundaries started to move, I kept pushing knowing that I would soon catch up and they would have to move again to work for me. Admittedly losing all limitations turned out to be more difficult than I thought, but that freedom came from me pushing hard all the way until there were no more boundaries to push. I earned it. I guess there’s also the fact that I had absolutely nothing to lose, and everything to gain by going at this hell for leather and I knew it was within my control. I have the best team in the world, but I’m the one who has to do the work for this to succeed. It’s on my shoulders to put it all into practice.

This process has really brought out sides to me that I never knew existed. I always knew I was strong - mentally at least. You don’t go through something like I did as a teenager without it. The loss of a parent is earth shattering at any age, but when you’re meant to hit puberty and lash out for all of the World’s ‘unfairness’ and instead you experience real unfairness in its raw and unforgiving vice, you skip it and instantly become an adult. My determination was set the day I was told I would never see my dad again. I turned to my mum and told her I would achieve top grades in my big exams the following year. Who even cares about things like that at a time when your world has just ended? It’s hard to describe, but I knew it was my way to show I wasn’t going to break and I wasn’t going to turn to drink or drugs to solve problems I should never have had to deal with. My choice was to excel because I knew that’s what my dad would have wanted. That ability to know what my parents had brought me up to be undoubtedly saved me.

The physical strength has shocked me. What my body and in fact any body goes through in pregnancy is life-changing. It’s fair to say some people have an easier ride than others, that’s just life. My pregnancy may have been, but my recovery was anything but. I think it may have been lost why I even started this blog. My diastasis has been the biggest thing that happened, but it wasn’t the first or even second, and in the immediate aftermath, wasn’t even my biggest problem at that point. I started this blog after what I can only describe as going through physical hell. Labour was a walk in the park in comparison to what happened after. Breastfeeding is meant to be ‘natural’ but there was nothing natural about my experience with it. I fully admire and I’m in awe of anyone who succeeds at doing it for any length of time. I failed spectacularly and I have no doubt I suffered trauma as a result of what happened within just one week of doing it. When you have visited a breast clinic three times in the first two weeks, and you have breastfeeding support workers tell you they don’t blame you for giving up two weeks in, you know you have been through hell.

Since I was diagnosed with my diastasis, it became my sole focus. Other shit was still going on, but not to the same level as the first two weeks. Inevitably it has been the focus of my blogs. To be honest, that has just happened naturally. It isn’t spoken about nearly enough and as I’ve said, this has brought out sides to me that I never knew existed. My physios have mentioned things that genuinely have surprised me. I’ve been considered laid back (my husband would certainly not agree!) and a boundary pusher. For me: a (slightly) rebellious side; an obsessive side; a bold side and a physically strong side, are all things I have discovered about myself. This journey has allowed me to speak my mind more freely than anything else I have ever experienced. Much of that is down to my physios and the freedom they have given me to do that is something I value more than anything.

One of the biggest things I have learned about myself is a relentlessness beyond any determination I have ever known to have. Somewhere there is the reason why I never grieved properly for what I had lost, and why I never gave in to my feelings. Maybe it’s because I’ve had enough grief in my life in a different form. Maybe I didn’t know if I could come back if I did. Whatever the reason; whatever I have learned about myself during all of this, this has made me a stronger person than I ever thought possible. There are no regrets. I have no doubt that that will stand me in good stead as I head further down this road. There are going to be so many more bumps along the way, but equally there will be more boundaries for me to push and who knows, maybe even a chance to rebel after all...😉

#mybumpbirthandbeyond #prehab #diastasisrecti #secondpregnancy

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 7 years

Text

All I Want for Christmas is You (Naked) - Chapter 4

Today, the Doctor and the Tylers arrive at the house where they’ll be for the Christmas holidays.

@chiaroscuroverse @dwsecretsanta

@timepetalsprompts - Eccleston bingo - hand porn

@doctorroseprompts because the whole fic’s going to be a bedsharing/fake relationship Doctor/Rose catastrophe™

Beta’s by the wonderful @stupidsatsuma

NSFW

Masterlist

The next morning, Rose startled awake to the sound of her mother pounding on her door, calling her name.

“Get up! The car’ll be here in an hour.”

“Ugh.” Rose flopped back onto the mattress, unsurprised to find she was alone.

Grimacing at the sticky, messy way she felt, particularly between her sore legs, she crawled out of bed, threw on a robe, and headed for a shower.

Forty five minutes later, she walked into the living room to find the Doctor seated on the couch, tinkering with the toaster, sonic in hand.

“Morning.” Rose yawned, still half asleep as she bent to kiss him.

“Morning!” he beamed back. “Tea’s over there, just the way you like it.”

“Ta.” Grabbing the mug, she settled beside him to let the heat and caffeine wake her up.

They sat in silence, content just to be together while she came slowly to and he ‘fixed’ the toaster. The only thing missing from their usual morning routine was the hum of the TARDIS. When Jackie finally appeared, ready to go, she stopped to stare for a moment at the sweet scene they made.

“Well,” she started, amused when they jumped apart guiltily. “I’m about ready. Got your bag?”

Rose pointed to the suitcase sitting by the table. “Everything’s in there.”

Jackie pursed her lips, but let it slide, not missing that they’d be sharing a bag. “The car should be here soon. Let’s go down now, yeah? You’ll get the bags, won’t you Doctor?”

Without waiting for an answer, she strode out the door leaving Rose to laugh at the incredulous look on the alien’s face.

Kissing him on the cheek, she skipped out behind her mother without a word.

“You said car,” Rose said blankly, staring at the Bentley idling in front of them, the Doctor already helping to load the bags in.

“That’s what Mo told me,” Jackie replied faintly.

“Are we going or what?” the Doctor called, irritable.

The Tyler women slowly made their way over, Rose allowing her mother to slide in first, before crawling in – she’d already decided her best bet was to stay between Jackie and the Doctor at all times possible. He climbed in next, settling beside her with no thought to her personal space.

“You really don’t know anything about this boyfriend?” Rose asked once they were on their way.

“No, she wouldn’t say, other than that he was rich, handsome, and spectacular in bed.”

The Doctor made an odd wheezing sound, and Rose put her hand on his knee to both comfort him and keep him from throwing himself out of the moving car.

“Well, that’s good. But no name, origin, nothing?”

“Nope,” Jackie shrugged, nonplussed. “Find out when we get there, I suppose.”

“Right. Well, how’s Bev doing?”

“Well, wait ‘til you hear this…” And Jackie was off, hardly stopping for breath for the next two hours, to the point where as soon as the car pulled into a long driveway and stopped in front of a gigantic house, the Doctor all but leapt out and kissed the ground.

The Tylers followed at a much more sedate pace, Jackie going over to flirt with the driver while Rose checked on the Doctor.

“All right?” she asked, rubbing his arm sympathetically.

He glared at her. “The Shadow Proclamation has articles on torture, you know. Never mind your own Geneva Convention.”

“I promised to make it up to you,” Rose reminded him.

“Oh, you will,” the Doctor vowed. “Right now, I’m thinking the first ever performance of Hamlet. Did you know it’s over four hours long?”

She grimaced. “I think I’d rather pay in sexual favors, ta.”

“Nope. Hamlet. And maybe a few others.”

He began to stride off towards the house, before doing an abrupt about-face. “That’s in addition to the favors, mind.”

Sighing, Rose followed him up to the house, where the door had opened and Mo was currently hugging Jackie.

“I deserve that.”

“Rose!” Mo cried, throwing her arms around her. “Good to see you!”

“Hey, Mo, Happy Christmas,” Rose replied, hugging her cousin back. “Thanks so much for having us.”

“I’m glad you happened to be passing through London, were able to make it. Come on in.” She ushered the trio into the grand entryway, making Jackie stop and stare in shock.

“It’s like on telly!” she gushed, spinning in a circle.

Rose managed to reasonably keep her cool, having been in plenty of castles and manor houses in her time with the Doctor, but even she had to admit it looked spectacular, especially all decorated for Christmas. “It’s gorgeous.”

The Doctor made a vague sound of agreement, going over to the honest-to-God medieval suit of armor in the corner and frowning at the helmet.

“Right, well, do you want a tour and then to see your rooms, or vice versa?”

“Tour,” the Tylers chorused, before grinning at each other.

“Right, let’s start here. This is the formal dining room, it can seat up to thirty…” Mo lead them around the first floor expertly, showing the living rooms, game room, and library, each more lavishly decorated for the holiday than the last. By the time they returned to the foyer to go upstairs, Rose was admittedly jealous and Jackie was almost green with envy.

“Does he have any single friends?” she wanted to know as they walked upstairs, not noticing Rose and the Doctor fall behind.

“All right?” Rose asked, taking his hand. He gave her a look, squeezing her palm.

“Peachy keen.”

“Doctor.”

He sighed. “I’m here for you, Rose, and it is what it is. But after this, we’re diving into the first trouble we can find, yeah?”

“Promise.” Seeing they were momentarily alone, she reached up to peck his cheek.

“Rose!” her mother called, and they hurried to see the other women standing by a closed door.

“I was just saying this is our room.” Mo explained, letting them peek into the opulent bedroom, done up in heavy brocades and antique furniture – it was a room fit for a king.

She pointed out that down the hall was their bathroom, a private office, an annex to the library, and another two bedrooms, before leading them upstairs.

“This is where guests would stay. There’s five bedrooms, two of which have been upgraded to en suites. Those are the ones I’m giving you, as you’re our only overnight guests.” She led them to one door, saying as she opened it, “Jackie, this is your room.”

Rose took one look and knew it would be a battle to get her mother to leave on the 27th; if Jackie Tyler had all the money in the world, her room would be spectacularly close to what they were looking at. Leaving Jackie to delight in her room, Mo guided Rose and the Doctor to the far end of the hall.

“I figured you’d want to be as far from your mum as possible. And don’t worry – the walls are very thick, sound doesn’t carry well.” She winked, throwing open the door to show where they would be sleeping for the next several nights.

Rose’s jaw dropped, slowly entering the room. The four-poster bed was something out of a story, and there was a real fire roaring in the fireplace. It looked exactly like what she’d seen in Henry II’s bedchambers when he’d accidentally tried to seduce her a few months earlier.

“Wow,” she breathed, belatedly remembering to protest, “Oh, we’re not tog-”

Mo snorted, waving a hand. “Whatever you need to tell Jackie. But you only brought one bag for the two of you – I can read that writing clear as anything. Trust me, you won’t be disturbed down here.”

“Thanks,” Rose said gratefully, deciding to leave the issue alone. After all, Mo was only assuming the truth.

“Course ducks. Now, I’ll leave you to get settled in, whatever. Remember the informal sitting room? Let’s meet there in, say, two hours?”

Rose gave her cousin another squeeze, whispering her thanks, before making sure the door was shut and locked behind her.

“So, we’ve got two hours, and I’ll need one to get ready. What’ll we do during that time?” Rose teased, turned to find the Doctor had flopped himself onto the bed, and was staring up at the ceiling with a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t get it.” He gestured for her to join him. “Why would you put a mirror up there?” He pointed up, and sure enough, there was a large mirror attached to the top of the bed.

Her lips twitched in amusement as she settled on her back beside him. “So you can watch.”

“Watch what, someone sleep?” He turned his head towards her. “It’s pointless.”

“No.” She let out an embarrassed laugh, never having expected to have to explain something like that to a nine hundred year old alien. “So you can… watch.” She said in her best seductive voice, turning her head to face him. She saw the moment understanding hit, as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. Giac had one over his bed, nice and big.”

“Giac? You mean – Rose! You said you didn’t shag him,” he complained, leaning up on an elbow.

“I didn’t! I did get a tour, and he tried, but I turned him down flat, and not just cause his breath didn’t half stink.” She giggled at the outraged look on his face, and eventually he settled down.

“And it’s supposed to, what – enhance the experience?” he asked derisively.

“Yep.” Rose popped the letter, considering their reflection above them. It had seemed absurd three days ago when handsome Giacomo had explained it to her, but now… She watched in the mirror as her feet separated and her knees fell apart, biting her lip at the surprising trickle of moisture the image evoked.

The Doctor was still rambling, and she tuned in only long enough to know he didn’t need her for the conversation. Somewhat fascinated, she idly brought her hand to her stomach, watching in the mirror as she ran it over her abdomen. Feeling her heartbeat begin to pick up, she tried running her fingers over the seam of her leggings, exposed by how her dress had fallen around her hips. She had to bite her lip at the sensation when she pressed the seam against her clit. Liking the feeling combined with the visual, she slipped her hand inside the leggings, grateful she’d skipped knickers under them.

Rose felt herself grow steadily wetter, somehow finding it more of a turn on to only be able to see a hint of what she was doing, while still experiencing the full feeling as she lightly traced her folds with a single fingertip.

A strange, strangled noise to the side of her said the Doctor had noticed what she was doing, and a quick glance proved he was watching the mirror in rapt fascination.

“Are you…” He trailed off, moving closer to press himself against her side, glancing from her hand next to him to the image above.

“Am I…” she teased, having to momentarily close her eyes when she brushed her clit.

“Are you going to keep going like that?” His voice was husky, his blue eyes had gone very dark, and even in the mirror she could see the growing tent in his jeans.

“Maybe.” She pumped the tip of her middle finger inside herself a few times, unable to tell if the growing wetness was due more to her touch, or the sensuality of the situation.

“Do it,” the Doctor commanded, palming himself.

“All right,” she agreed, watching him rub his hand along his zip. “But only if you do.”

He froze, turning his head to look at her. Pursing his lips, he stared for a long moment before asking awkwardly, “naked?”

“Is there any other way?” She teased, quickly peeling off her leggings and sweater dress. Within seconds, she was completely naked beside him, watching expectantly. Her left hand palmed a breast while the right wandered aimlessly through her folds.

He hesitated, hand on his zip, looking from her to the mirror several times before standing next to the bed. He reached for his belt, but had barely begun when suddenly Rose was there.

“Let me,” she offered before taking her time to undo the belt and push the jeans from his hips. Ignoring his pants for the moment, she pushed off the leather jacket and slipped her hands under the hem of his jumper, pulling it up slowly. Leaning down, Rose brushed her lips over every inch of skin she revealed, spending an excessive amount of time just above his boxers, carding her nose through his happy trail.

The Doctor watched, rapt. She was crouched in front of him, bare bum swaying in the air with her movement. When he looked down, the visual was almost overwhelming, seeing her mouth so close to where he wanted it.

He grunted at the stimuli, cradling the back of her neck with one hand. Eventually, she pulled the jumper off, but instead of going for his pants she nudged him back slightly so she could lean halfway off it to reach his boots, carefully unlacing each one while he bent forward to both hands over her arse and back. He must have decided she was taking too long, because just as she finished untying the second boot he brought his hand down on her left cheek in a firm slap.

“Oi!” she cried indignantly as she made him lift his foot so she could remove the boot, the Doctor steadying himself by resting his hand on the cheek he’d hit.

“Sorry.” She could hear the smirk in his voice as he moved the offending hand down to rub through her wetness, one finger pumping inside.

“Liar,” she huffed, even as she slid back on the bed, dislodging his finger but leaving her right at eye level with a bit of him that looked awfully happy to see her.

Rose glanced up to see him watching her intently, and pursed her lips. It took all she had not to laugh when his hips bobbed forward slightly, a hopeful look on his face.

Propping herself up on her forearms, she leaned forward to take him in, pleased at the deep groan he let out at the feel of her mouth. She brought one hand up to lightly rub at him while she sucked his tip.

Eventually she pulled back, letting him go with a soft pop and moving back to her original position under the mirror.

Turning her head, she found him watching her with what could only be described as a sulk, arms crossed, manhood standing proud and angry, an unsatisfied red.

Crooking her finger at him, she pointed at the mirror. “You wanted to watch, remember?”

With a put upon sigh, the Doctor climbed onto the bed, retaking his place beside her. “So, we’re just gonna lie here and touch ourselves and watch in the mirror?” he asked, frowning.

Rose rolled her eyes. “Boy, way to make that sound dead sexy. Yes, that’s what we’re gonna do.” Leaning up slightly, she caught sight of an old fashioned, floor length movable mirror in the corner, and instantly began concocting plans for later.

“I don’t like that plan,” he informed her, even as he rubbed one hand along his happy trail before taking himself in hand.

She shrugged.

“You do you, Doctor, and I’ll do me.” She smirked at her own pun, before firmly turning her attention to the mirror above them.

And so they did.

#bbatcfic #doctorroseprompts #dwsecretsanta #timepetalscollective #ficandchips #All I Want for Christmas is You (Naked)#oohlala

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