#i think its because i kept drawing her with short hair that cover her ears and it totally escaped my mind

[drawnfamiliarfaces]

In one of the episodes, Jun mentioned that she wanted to pierce her ears twice. in your version she has already done this?

oh dude you either have memory of a steel trap or someone had a good rewatch recently! But, wow, tbh I do not remember this and in HoM AU designs I only delibarately added earrings/piercings to Kim and Jake to sort of break their design more from their og looks (especially Kim lol, I barely changed her anything xD) but also for practical in-verse reasons. I didnt even think about Jun or anyone else... but you know? I like it, so now she does!

AND now she got 7 of them!!! Some are just simple hoops or studs, but others are magical gem stones for emergencies (small spells and protections), and she can just swap them out when needed.

After you mentioned it, I wonder why out of all characters Jun is like almost the only one without piercings of any sorts? I mean even Lila got a fang earring and she has been human-shaped for like less than a year?? Which led me to a headcanon:

What if Jun's invulnerability is so strong she couldn't even get piercings in a normal human way? So, going with her Mom or her friends to get her ears pierced in a mall was out of the question. She and Jasmine had to enchant a needle/make a spell (or maybe just visit a monster beauty salon), just for her to do it and after they just show up to her parents like: "Oh look Barbara, Michael, I took Jun to pierce her ears, doesn't she look wonderful?'

And later Jun just took the needle/spell to covertly make more piercings with her friends, which Ophelia was more than happy to do. The other three she got a bit later over the years. ;D

#que? #hom au #hom au q&a #juniper lee #the life and times of juniper lee #i dont know why i never gave Jun any earrings its such a great idea! &i dont even know for sure if its true or not about her mentioning it #i think its because i kept drawing her with short hair that cover her ears and it totally escaped my mind #but now i have a lovely hc so thank you anon. #it also rises the question about how does she get her vaccination shots every year. do Jasmine and her fake them??? lol

[kabartmatzu]

Oookaaay… Here is Marinette Dupain-Cheng aka Ladybug. There is not many doodles like in Chloe’s drawing because I didn’t want to lol. I worked on Ladybug waay before Chloe and I tried so many designs and I worked on this drawing for days because of my job so I kinda got bored of drawing her. But I will draw her more later, dw!

Now I want to tell a little about my design choices rather than her story. She is not so different from show anyway. I deleted her creepiness and made her “not wearing same outfit everyday”. Lmao. Also she talks a lot about fashion in every kind of situation. She is a talented person in many kind of things. She is kind, friendly and cares about others more than herself. I kept her clumsiness but not as annoying as in the show. She is late to school not because she over sleeps but because she spends so much time on her clothing I thought. She got miraculous on high school but story takes time in their university years. Nino is her high school friend. She met with Alya in university. They are roommates in dorm.

So there are rules I follow when I design their hero outfits. Like keep the eyes same as kwamii’s eyes. And there are some features every holder keeps. I mean for all the Ladybug users, they’ve got that black dot on their head and they can’t cover it. That’s why her fringe (?) is short. Also Marinette would like her hair out of her way. Or they get elytra and wings. Yes she got wings so does Queen Bee ( even tho i forgot to draw ) but they can’t fly I thought. They just can glide with them because wings are not big enough for a human to fly. Or Cat users always get ears. All users get sharper faces so they become unrecognizable also their skin tone changes a little. Ladybug users get redder Bee users get yellower etc.

So for Marinette I tried giving her Chinese symbols like some other redesigns. I would like to show it but I can’t get it thanks to Autodesk getting crushed :/ I like that design but still I didn’t went with that. I felt like it doesn’t help with the secret identity thing. So I went with reds over black like real ladybugs. 🐞 I also wanted white dots a lot because of, again, real ladybugs. But I didn’t like them so I added circles over black dots. I am not sure if it looks too complicated but I kinda liked them. Yellow would be good too with red and black but every character would have yellow on them if I did so. Chat Noir and Hawkmoth has yellow details in my redesigns that you will see in the future. (Kinda want to give that they are related they are son and father thing with same yellow lines. I thought its cute.) Queen Bee is also yellow soo I didn’t add yellow on Ladybug. Two stripes on her hips for ladybug’s third set of legs if that makes sense. Her legs and arms are black because ,again, ladybugs are like that. I also thought she added her ladybug thing on her neck after seeing Cat Noir’s bell hehehe. I like pig tails but I really wanted “antennas” to come from her hair so I changed them into buns and I kinda liked them.

Also about her earrings looking like triangles, in my version kwamiis can shapeshift and miraculouses are kind of a part of them so they also can change miraculouses looks. So Marinette has shapeshifting earrings so she doesn’t have to keep buying new earrings lmaoo. It is also good for hiding their identity!

For her powers I will make a post and explain my version of the power system so I will explain her powers there but let me tell you no.miraculous.ladybuging. No fixing every damage. No. Also her yoyo will have more abilities so does other users weapons. I don’t think I will keep the communication thing where they use them as phones. But I want yoyo to has the abilities in the 2D version. Like using it as smoke bomb or as a shield. Her elytra is also like a shield but she can’t take it in her hand. It always stays in her back. Or she can separate her yoyo from middle and make it kinda like nunchucks. I will draw those to explain better.

Also… I am not sure how she will use her creation power. I mean she creates something with her yoyo i mean lucky charm. But Chat Noir looks like he gets his destruction power from his ring. Did you get what I mean? I thought maybe Marinette should get the thing she created from her earrings and make all other users like that but like how Queen Bee’s venom will work then? Or Rena Rouge’s power?? I am not sureee. Maybe I should make them all use their weapons to use their powers or I can make all of them different? Any idea?

#miraculous au #miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir #mlb #miraculous marinette #marinette dupain cheng #mlb marinette #mlb redesign #mlb ladybug #tales of ladybug and cat noir #ladybug redesign #miraculous lb #fanart #art #digital art #miraculous fandom #miraculous fanart #miraculous ladybug #mlb au #marinette and tikki #tikki #miraculous tikki #ladybug and chat noir #ml ladybug #ladybug fanart #miraculous rewrite

[factorialsfandoms]

[Description: coloured sketches of Zelda from The Legend of Zelda (Dawn) and from Zelda II: Adventure of Link (Aurora). Both have poofy ginger hair. Dawn has her hands clasped just below her belt. She is wearing a dark purple dress with golden trip and pale pink patches that comes down to just above her ankles, with a small pale pink waistcoat over it, and a red ribbon in her hair. She wears a wire circlet with a single red gem, and matching earrings. Her boots are brown and her hands and arms both covered by black gloves, over one of which she wears a gold bracelet. Her belt is brown, and its buckle is gold.

[Aurora is wearing a poofy pink dress. Part way down are a series of darker pink ribbons with bows on, and below that a pleated, pale pink underskirt. Her hands are raised and pressed together, akin to prayer. Her sleeves are short and ended by more dark pink ribbon. Her arms are bare, but she is wearing dark pink gloves. She wears a pale pink veil with darker pink trim, held in place by a thick metal band-circlet, set with red gems. Her necklace is made of matching red beads. End description]

Dawn and Aurora. Because a fic got out of control and so they may be getting written soon, and so I wanted a reference for myself. Also drawing and writing mess up my hands in different ways so if I swap its better.

Notes under cut

Both Aurora and Dawn wear very similar outfits in their games, different only by a few details. I kept both of them having the ginger hair, liking it as a family detail.

Given the state of Hyrule’s Hyrule, the dresses from the games did not seem very practical. As such, I gave this dress to Aurora (also its been more time since Dawn’s game, and so she’s likely grown up and changed). As the princess who had slept since the golden age, it seemed more likely that she would have such impractical clothing. In the particular verse I’m working on these for, a number of her belongings had also been preserved by the magic, including a number of her dresses. Which also neatly explains how she has this much fabric for peticoats and extra frills and the like. Her fancier circlet is of my own design, and in itself a mark of her being from a richer, fancier time. The veil is mostly there because I just like drawing them, but I was vaguely thinking about Medieval Princess vibes from minimally researched films and stuff. You know the ones, that note that ladies covered their heads but didn’t check what coverings in what time period? Them. Her necklace and earrings are taken from one of the bits of game art or associated materials, but I forget which. Oh and thank Hero from the LU Discord’s creator chat for reassuring me that no this amount of pink was fine actually.

This however left a problem with Dawn. I wanted the two Princesses from the same realm to have unique shapes and be visually distinct. So, I prodded around. What I found is the Legend of Zelda anime - or one of them - vaguely based on both of the first two games. The basic outline and neckline for her dress, as well as the waistcoatlet, comes from here. However, I made her dress a bit more purple, and recoloured the waistcoatlet to the pink of her game design. It has so many pockets on the inside, I promise. The patching on her dress would be much more extreme in meeting here, but is there as a reference to the state of her world - to some extent the gold-coloured trim is, too. There’s not the fabric to waste going around, not even for the princess, so she makes do. Her waistcoatlet was once a full coat, but she outgrew it and has been cutting it for scraps since. What remains is sentimental, and reshaped many times over the years. The patch on her purple dress is the same colour as it is patched with some of the coat’s remains. The trim, meanwhile, is much easier to replace than a whole dress. Sure its pretty, but when it gets scuffed or damaged or torn on a bush? Just rip it off and replace it, now using it as rags for clearning and the like, saving the rest of the item. The trim can in a very crisis also be torn off to use as bandages without damaging the main garment. Her circlet is the one she wears in the art from the game, her jewellery matching as she /is/ still a princess. No use in selling it, may as well be pretty. The ribbon in her hair she shifts around to pull her hair out of her eyes or tie her hair back as needed.

Both of them are wearing gloves because you’ve seen their Hyrule don’t not wear gloves its a bad plan. You cannot see Aurora’s, but both of them are wearing practical sorts of boots.

Oh right yeah! Dawn’s belt has the triforce on it, as seen in the detail sketches, but otherwise there’s a lack of the usual Zelda things (the white and purple and all that). This is intentional, and not just because it’s a later addition to the games. For Dawn, it’s just been so long and the country has fallen so far that these sorts of things (along with religion) aren’t really kept up to. Some generations back there might have still been some, but the heavily embroidered ceremonial pieces were just abandoned in favour of practicality, especially once the symbology was no longer cared for. Dark colours are better, too. She keeps the purple, though. If a very dark one. For Aurora... The excuse I’m going with here is that her brother was the heir, not her. The golden age was a long time, and at some point it shifted from being the princess’s duty to the heir’s duty. Its part of what makes her knowing the triforce’s location and not her brother such a slight - he should have been the one to wield and control it. Also she’s the first Zelda in a good few generations - I like to think Fable broke the tradition with her own kids. The lack of a Zelda helped disconnect things a bit. So the ceremonial garb would have existed in her original time, but her brother would have worn a masculinised version of it for ceremonies, not her. Sure once he was king she was the heir, but as a sibling she’d only have been a placeholder, and so didn’t have one of her own. Or, if she did, it was not considered her position/clothing enough for the preservation spell to catch it.

I think that’s all I really had in mind? It’s all I can remember having had in mind, anyway. As a reward for reading this, here are the colourless sketches. Dawn’s has some extra details from where i was working out the clothing shapes independently of one another. Aurora, being in a generic princess dress, needed it less.

#linked universe #lu dawn #lu aurora #character design #fanart #i guess

[ryosmne]

Three brats??

Dad!Sukuna x f!reader

So this is basically a comfort fic, featuring dad! Sukuna because the brainrot was too much. Ok so, the reader and Sukuna have a son together, yes their son is Yuuji, I know this is usually the single father Sukuna trope, but I wanted to give it a go, feedback is always appreciated. Thanks for brainrotting with me @likeab-o-s-s cause this is the reason this exists. That's all from me enjoy reading.

Warnings: none really, just family, heartwarming fluff.

The air was crisp and fresh, unusually refreshing for the beginning of summer. Parents were already gathered outside the daycare, Yuuji, y/n's and Sukuna's son attended, patiently waiting for their kids to run in their arms again.

Sukuna arrived a couple of minutes before the final bell on his motorcycle, he took off his helmet, leaned back on his bike and waited for the familiar little pink head of hair to come wobling to him.

The three mothers next to him, scooted a bit closer to him to get a better look nothing he's unfamiliar with and no one can blame them, Sukuna is a sight for sore eyes. Leather jacket with the sleeves rolled up, extenuating his board shoulders, exposing his tattoo covered skin, v neck white t shirt, allowing his toned chest and even more of his tattoos to show and a simple black pair of pants hugging his muscular thighs in the best of ways.

In the past some of the bolder ones had mustered the courage and asked him if he was a single father since they had never seen his son's mother, but with a laugh Sukuna brushed them off telling them how his lovely wife was a working parent and her schedule just didn't match the daycares. Maybe the very unconventional wedding rings they got weren't the best idea in this situation, even though they were extremely beautiful and unique.

"I really admire the work you put in the little guy" Sukuna's gaze met a woman who attempted to strike a conversation, oblivious to what she had meant by her statement he replied, maybe these three minutes would pass faster talking about normal things and not stressing about work.

"Don't we all put work on our kids?" He spoke calmly with a slight smile that he always wore when talking about Yuuji.

"Yeah, we do, but it still must be hard I can't imagine what you're going through" Sukuna's mind went to the worst scenario. Was Yuuji a trouble maker at school? He is a very well behaved child, both him and y/n made sure to teach him proper manners and how to be polite, that couldn't be it right?

The bell rung, and kids made their way out of the daycare, Yuuji in the blink of an eye was hugging his father's leg, exited to see him after the hours he was gone. In a swift motion Sukuna put Yuuji's little backpack on his own back and scooped the boy up in his arm.

"Yuuji's a pretty good kid, hes never been difficult" Sukuna smilled again resuming in the short conversation with the woman next to him. "Single father's like you don't get the credit they deserve". She spoke again smiling sadly down to the little pink haired boy who seemed too fixated on the earrings his father was wearing.

Sukuna finally understanding what this whole thing was about, chuckled, this had happened before after all, he should've known.

"I'm not a single parent, speaking of that your mom said she has a big surprise for you after dinner" he said directing his attention to his son again, the woman next to him quickly fumbled an apology for missundertanding, to which Sukuna replied to with a simple 'dont worry about it'. He placed Yuuji on his bike, put on both his and his boys helmet and drove off.

Y/n was still stuck at work, thankfully her husband would cook dinner tonight cause overtime was killing both her and her mood, good thing she finally had a day off tomorrow.

Y/n checked her phone to see how close she was to going home only to find a text that Yuuji's teacher had send her that was obviously meant for her husband.

Hello Mr Itadori, this is Mrs Laura from the day care. I was wondering if you wanted to get launch with me after school tomorrow, you can bring little Yuuji too, I'm awaiting your response, have a nice night.

What the hell was that? Well y/n's number was in Yuuji's contact information, she chuckled at the words displayed on her screen but she couldn't really blame the teach, Sukuna was a walking temptation, she knew that first hand, hell she fell head over heels for the dangerous looking guy who hid a heart of gold under his hard exterior, but the teacher could at least check who the number belonged to.

Y/n run her last errands and made sure to pick up Yuuji's surprise before heading home, she even tipped Sukuna off so their son wouldn't know what hit him.

Y/n made her way inside the family house, tossing her keys somewhere on the living room couch.

Yuuji immediately after hearing her car in the driveway came rushing down the stairs, jumping around her like he always did when she came home.

"Mom, mom you're home." The happiness was evident in the boys face, his smile was wide when y/n dropped to his level to pick him up and spin him around

"Yes I am little devil, did you give your father hell like we agreed?" She spoke in the happiest of tones with Yuuji still in her arms. Another set of arms engulfed her frame making her halt on spinning the little boy.

"So you're telling him to be a little brat now huh?" Sukuna's breath tickled the side of her neck and ear as he rested his head on her shoulder and wrapped his strong arms around her waist. "Welcome home love" he spoke again giving her jaw a ghost of a kiss.

"Daddy is the food ready" Yuuji spoke from y/n's arms, Sukuna only laughed at his son's appetite, and directed both him and y/n to the kitchen where he had already set everything up.

"Mommy, what is a single dad?" Yuuji asked in the middle of dinner in typical fashion of his, any question he had from something he heard through the day would always come up during dinner.

"Well Yuuji, single fathers are the fathers who raise their kids alone." The young boy seemed to think about his mother's words before speaking again. "So its just a daddy ?" Yuuji asked again with his eyes growing a bit sadder, his mother nodded, and Yuuji's eyes started to water.

"Baby what's wrong?" y/n asked. "Hey buddy what's going on?" Sukuna was growing quite concerned too. Yuuji burst in tears leaving his seat, climbing up his dad and hugging him tightly. Sukuna was rubbing his back to comfort the young boy and y/n's hand was stroking the kids hair in an effort to calm him down. "B-but why did that lady c-call you that, is m-mommy l-leaving?" Everything seemed to click for Sukuna, y/n was still confused but in the calmest sweetest voice said "Yuuji, baby look at me, I'm not going anywhere ok?" And the boy left his father's arms and clung on to her like his life depended on it.

Sukuna cracked a few jokes and lightened Yuuji's mood so he could enjoy the rest of his dinner, which went pretty well, he was his smiling adorable self very soon after his parents reassured him that none of them were ever leaving his side and the boy was now drawing with crayons in the living room. He seemed to have completely forgotten about the surprise his father mentioned when he picked him up.

Y/n and Sukuna were doing the dishes in the kitchen, each one talking about their day, Sukuna explained the awkward conversation he had at the daycare that sparked Yuuji's sadness, y/n took a turn in talking about how her son's teacher, basically asked Sukuna out on a date but messed up and texted her. "How about you set up a date and you show up? I mean it's you she texted right?" Sukuna joked "Babe, that's cruel" y/n chuckled at her husband's mischievous nature.

"So you've got everything ready?" Sukuna asked. "yeah who'll bring him over?"

"You do it I'll keep Yuuji busy."

Sukuna joined Yuuji on the couch. "What are you drawing little brat?" Y/n heard him ask their boy in the usual sweet tone he had with him. She made her way down the basement, where she kept the surprise since she came home. Yuuji was going to love this, Sukuna was too, she knew she was already in love as well.

Y/n climbed the stairs quickly, and snuck up behind her son, who was occupied by his dad, she gently tapped the boys shoulder.

"A PUPPY" Yuuji announced exited making sure his voice was still soft not to scare the eager dog that his mom brought to his arms. Yuuji gently held the puppy that was licking his face as he was in a fit of laughter and excitement. Sukuna was as exited as his son and y/n had a huge smile on her face too. Their son had begged and begged for a dog ever since his best friend, Megumi got a black German shepherd puppy. Of course y/n and Sukuna wanted to comply to Yuuji's request right away, but they took time to teach little Yuuji everything there was about the responsibility of owning a dog. They took him to dog cafes and shelters, so he would be the perfect little dog owner, they taught him patience and responsibility beforehand. Sukuna visited the local shelter and decided with y/n on a white Shepard puppy that Yuuji always pointed out in your visits because 'he looks like Megumi's puppy they can be friends like we are' who can say no to that little adorable devil?

The puppy momentarily left Yuuji's arms to lick Sukuna's face. "Now we've got two little brats and a big one in our house." He laughed, enjoying the moment.

Y/n was admiring her son and husband as well as the newest member of the family with a smile plastered wide on her face, life was indeed beautiful.

The next day, both Sukuna and y/n were waiting for Yuuji to finish school, since y/n had the day off. Sukuna had his arm protectively around her because this time, others were staring at what was his, but he was proud to show her off to everyone, even in a place as mundane as his son's daycare.

#jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen drabbles #au ryomen sukuna #au sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you

[biggest-stupidhead]

Can I ask for an request where Levi is a soldier who is pointed to protect a royal person. Then he fell in love with her active attitude, smart brain and support to the scout

AN: This took me so long. I deleted it like three times on accident so this is as good as its going to get 😂. do let me know though if I misspelled anything I didn't skim over it sooooo YOLO.

Summary: Levi is asked to attend the summer gala with !princess reader.

Word Count: 2.8 K

Warnings: mentions of Levi's scarring, some cussing? I think? that's about it

__________

Levi's hand trembled as he ran the fine toothed comb through his damp hair. He scowled back at his own reflection, eyes avoiding the pink scars that marred his skin. It had been nearly a year since he had been discharged from the military due to his injuries. At first he had struggled to find a routine, having been in the military for more than half of his life, it was a huge loss.

His hand jerked unexpectedly and the comb pulled through a knot in his hair painfully. He clicked his tongue and dropped the comb, gripping the edges of the sink to steady himself.

How pathetic.

There was a time when he could complete these tasks with no problem. But now his body seemed to be failing him, if he stood for too long his joints protested, he struggled to hold a pen due to his lack of fingers. He also wore an eyepatch to cover his milky right eye and some of the scars that covered the right side of his face.

Normally Hange would help him get ready, they were the only person he could stomach seeing him this way. But Hange was busy, they had meetings all morning. So Levi was left on his own, and he managed as well as he could. Although it took him double the amount of time it usually took, he still did it.

He grabbed his cane on his way out of his humble apartment, the carriage was waiting for him outside. In the carriage was the last person he wished to see, Zeke Jaeger. His glasses glinted in the sunlight as the coachman held the door for Levi who sat as far away from the war chief as possible.

Zeke blew out a puff of smoke, which swirled around in the small space. Levi's lip curled into a sneer, and Zeke smirked pleased to rouse a reaction from the retired Captain.

"Big day today eh Levi?" He spoke around his cigarette and Levi rolled his eyes.

"I suppose." He agreed, eyes never leaving the man.

That was about the only words exchanged between the two, the ride was thankfully short. The carriage arrived to the castle just after noon, the coachmen opened the door for Levi and Zeke. The sunlight was bright and made Levi squint, it didn't help that the castle seemed to glow as the sun bounced off of it.

"This way old friend." Zeke instructed and Levi followed begrudgingly, Zeke led Levi through the halls and into a large ball room. The castle staff was scurrying about, carrying massive bouquets of flowers and other decorations in preparation for the summer gala. Levi had attended this very event many times over his career, but he had not intended on joining in this year. Zeke paused a few feet away from Erwin, who was standing before a young woman Levi had met a handful of times. You had aged in the past two years that he hadn't seen you, although you weren't any taller, he could see the age on your face. Much as he assumed you could see in his, you also carried yourself more confidently, shoulders back, chin up.

Erwin paused and turned to greet the two men, who both saluted him and you.

"Captain, how nice to see you." You hummed, a pleased glint in your eyes as you curtsied, much to his surprise.

"You as well Zeke." You seemed less excited to see the war chief.

"Princess, you look lovely." Zeke closed the distance between the two of you, taking your hand a bit too eagerly and bringing it to his lips. You smiled a bit tersely, but allowed it.

"Ah, and you look...as hairy as the last time we met." Your jab threw Levi off, but Erwin seemed to have expected the exchange. Zeke laughed heartily and pulled back.

"Such a sharp tongue on you princess." He chuckled and you shrugged, a smug grin on those lips of yours.

"You make it easy."

"Princess, you are aware that Levi is to accompany you to this year's gala yes?" Erwin steered the conversation in a more relevant direction and you nodded.

"Mhm, and I'm very excited to be escorted by Eldia's most eligible bachelor." Levi wasn't sure if you meant it sincerely, or if it was his turn to face the wrath of your sharp words.

"I'm sure you are." Erwin chuckled, his hand falling on the back of your tricep. You gathered your skirts and took a few steps closer to Levi.

"The last time we met, you weren't keen on dancing, I do hope that's changed." You smirked at him and Levi barely fought the flush off of his cheeks as you pushed past him.

"We can go in the drawing room and discuss logistics, the gala is a mere week away after all-" Levi tuned out whatever it was Erwin was babbling about, too focused on watching you saunter out of the room.

__

Levi spent the next week trailing behind Erwin, attending meetings and luncheons with other high ranking military members. It was boring, but nothing that he hadn't done before. The day of the gala, Hange arrived with the remaining of the 104th cadet corps. Levi felt great relief at seeing the familiar faces, Hange had eagerly came to hug him, and he pretended to hate it. Mikasa even came and gave him the briefest of embraces, Connie had been the most excited, throwing his arms around his former captain and squeezing him tightly. Armin had grinned sheepishly, and offered a small wave. Jean just nodded respectively in Levi's direction. Gabby and Falco had tagged along as well, wearing their best uniforms, decorated with their medals.

"I can't believe we get to come to the summer gala!" Connie gushed, his hazel eyes wide as he soaked in the castle in all of its glory.

"We won a war." Jean huffed, eyes sharp, hand fidgeting with his medal on his lapel.

"We lost more than we won." Mikasa murmured, her own shaky hands reaching for a scarf that was no longer wrapped around her neck. The cheery mood quickly dissipated at Mikasa's statement, Hange cleared their throat and clapped their hands in an attempt to drag everyone from their thoughts.

"Let's go meet Erwin then." They said, and Levi nodded.

"Let's." The group walked through the halls, Hange in the lead and Levi at their side, it felt like old times. The kids, well they weren't really kids anymore, were beginning to return to their annoying selves.

"-will we be able to eat the food?" Gabby asked, and Levi nearly flinched, the statement reminded him all too much of Sasha. Connie seemed less phased, he sighed and brought his arms behind his neck as they walked.

"I sure hope so."

"We're here on business." Mikasa reminded them and Jean hummed in agreement.

"We're here as representatives." Armin added, and Hange chuckled.

"Use this as an opportunity children." Hange cooed, pausing in front of the doors to the drawing room.

"Have some fun, get drunk, you've earned it." Hange then pushed the doors open, revealing the cozy drawing room, Erwin sat with his legs crossed in one of the arm chairs, a book in his lap. He closed the book and stood, his sleeve hanging limply where his arm once was.

"Cadets, erm or should I say captains." Erwin chuckled awkwardly as the kids all jumped to salute him, fists clenched over their hearts.

"Commander." They all greeted in unison.

"Sit, we have much to discuss."

__

The discussion was rather tame, a short bit of it had been relevant. Where the kids were to stand, what they were to say and how they were expected to act. The rest of the afternoon had been spent catching up and enjoying each other's company. Just a few hours before the guests were to arrive, Erwin sent the group off to find their spots.

Levi found himself waiting outside of your room, his watch gripped tightly in his fist, watching the minutes tick by. You emerged about fifteen minutes after him arriving, your dress was a deep emerald green, elegantly hugging your frame in all of the right places. You smoothed the silk gown skirts and smiled at him, the red lipstick on your lips making your teeth seem extra white.

"You look ravishing Captain." You complimented, accepting his arm before walking slowly down the hall, careful to keep his pace.

"...as do you." He choked out, a blush tickling his ears.

"Did you get all done up for me?" You pressed, hand tightening around his bicep.

"No." He answered, although he was partially lying, the truth was all he could think about as he dressed, was you. How would you be dressed? Was he to match you? Or was he expected to wear his usual military dress? He had opted for the latter, and it seemed to work well, the inky black dress coat and the gold medals that decorated his lapels seemed to compliment the emerald in your dress.

"Well, I sure hope that you will at least dance with me." You pouted, shooting him a hopeful look.

"Tch." He clicked his tongue, truthfully it was all that he could mange, he was nervous enough about joining you this evening. But you asking him to dance? He had never danced in his life, and with his legs in the state they were in now?

The two of you stopped, overlooking the ball room which was already filled with guests, milling about with flutes of champagne. You snuck a glance at Levi, who was looking down at the crowd with a bored glaze over his eyes.

"Ready?" You asked, squeezing his bicep once and he nodded, chin held high as the two of you slowly made your way down the staircase. Levi's eyes scanned the crowd, searching for familiar faces, which he found in their designated spots. He knew that the king had asked him to accompany his daughter largely as a political move, not for protection as he had in the past. But old habits die hard, he double checked exits and kept an eye out for shady people, it was easier than looking at you after all. Not because you were ugly, rather the opposite, you were stunning and that intimidated him.

After at least forty five minutes of socializing, the dancing began and you tugged impatiently on his arm, which you had yet to let go of.

"Please Levi, just this once." You whispered so only he could hear, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at your closeness.

"Princess." He said sternly, although his voice did shake a tad, and you grinned, knowing that you had nearly convinced him.

"Captain." You countered, taking a step towards the dance floor.

"Just one." he said after a moment's hesitation before falling back in step with you.

"Just one." You affirmed with a wicked grin as you led him into the mass of bodies.

Levi felt his pulse race, his anxiety was roaring he had absolutely no clue how to dance, especially with his legs in the state that they were. You seemed to sense this, carefully taking his hand and resting it on your hip as you stepped ever so closely to him. Your chest was pressed against his, and he was sure that you could feel the pounding of his heart as it threatened to escape his ribcage.

"You just follow my lead." You whispered as he brought his other hand to rest naturally in the palm of yours. He nodded, eyes wandering down to glance at his feet, which were partially concealed by your skirts.

"It goes something like this, step-" You took a step towards him and he took one back.

"Then to the left," You instructed softly and he obliged, the two of you moving slightly out of sync.

"Then forwards again." You nodded as he stepped forwards and you stepped back, skirt swaying.

"Then to the right," You chuckled as his brows remained fixed in a tight knot as he tried to focus.

"Then we do it again." You seemed satisfied, and he nodded it was simple enough, although he could already feel the strain of the activity in his joints.

"Easy." He huffed, taking the lead and you giggled and fell into step with him.

"Tell me Levi, when you went across the ocean and fought those men, who were you fighting for?" The question caught him off guard and he nearly forgot the next step.

"That's an odd question." Levi shot you a mean look and you shrugged.

"I want to know what pushed Humanities strongest to be so strong." You answered, unfazed by his sour look.

"I fight for the people." He replied curtly and you sighed.

"That's a boring answer, I want to know what really drives you." You pressed and Levi frowned.

"Its the truth."

"Then tell me a lie." You raised a brow, challenging him and he screwed his nose up in distaste.

"Why would you want me to lie to you?" He asked out of genuine curiosity, no one had ever given him such a request.

"To spice some things up I guess." You hummed nonchalantly and squeezed your hand that held his.

"Then I would tell you I fought that war for you." He regretted the words, but you seemed to be pleased by them.

"Aw so you did think of me while we were apart." You cooed and Levi nearly broke away from you, but he only gripped your hand harder.

"You were the last thing on my mind." he huffed and you let out a throaty laugh. A lie, he thought of you often.

"You really are funny." You let your head fall affectionately into the crook of his neck and he swallowed thickly, as your scent washed over him.

"I didn't mean to be."

"I know, that's what makes it funny." Your breath tickled his neck as you spoke, you seemed to be in no hurry to pull away.

"Hmph." He hummed stupidly, unable to form words with you so close.

The song ended and you lifted your head, one of those wide grins sprawled across your lips.

"That wasn't so bad was it?" You whispered cheekily and he scoffed as the two of you exited the dance floor. You both found a seat at one of the tables set on the outskirts of the room, taking a break to drink and enjoy each others company.

Levi rubbed his knee under the table, the dance had truly taken a toll on him and he barely suppressed a groan. You noticed, shooting him a concerned look.

"Does it bother you often?" You asked, dragging your chair closer to his. He rolled his eye and pulled his hand slowly away from his leg.

"No."

"You're lying, just tell me the truth."

"I thought you wanted me to lie to you." He snapped back and you scoffed.

"Not about this." You reasoned and he sighed deeply.

"Yes, it hurts like a bitch." He turned to face you, his knee knocking yours and you frowned.

"You should've told me, I wouldn't have made you dance."

"I-" He paused, catching himself before the words left his mouth. But after one look at your open and concerned face he couldn't not say what he had been wanting to say.

"I wanted to." He admitted and your eyes widened a fraction.

"You...really wanted to?" Your words were raw and clearly Levi had caught you, the witty young princess off guard.

"I did."

"Would you do it again?"

"Yes."

"Hm." A smug look crossed your face and Levi scowled at you, not liking the way you seemed to be plotting something unbeknownst to him.

"What?" He snapped and you let out a short burst of laughter.

"I knew that you weren't lying when you said that you thought about me." You teased and he growled lowly under his breath.

"Maybe that was your last dance with me."

"Easy now, let's not be hasty, we have the whole night after all darling." You patted his shoulder, standing slowly and walking around the back of his chair to squeeze his shoulders before slipping off into the crowd.

He hoped that you meant it, that you would come back even if he could not dance with you again. He hoped that you had thought of him too, that his fighting had all been worth it. To spend the rest of his life by your side, even if he was just your guard or even a political ploy. He would do it for you, and he would do so happily.

#levi heichou #levi snk #levi attack on titan #levi x reader insert #levi x reader #levi x mc #levi x y/n #levi x fem!reader #levi x princess reader #royal au #fantasy au #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi supremacy #aot blog #aot fanfiction #erwin smith #commander hanji #jean kirstein #aot connie #mikasa ackerman #sasha braus #armin arlert #aot levi #aot fandom #mutual pining #levi x reader fluff #aot fluff

[theringers]

counting crimes - pierre gasly

illicit affairs, part three

summary: “wandering eyes and comfortable lies, you seem to sleep just fine” counting crimes / nessa barrett

a/n: i’m thinking there’s only gonna be two more parts but that may change, we’ll see. enjoy this and let me know what u think! feedback is always appreciated xoxo

also this gif today killed me

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, semi public sex shocker!, lil angst, cocky pierre

Your eyes widen as you try to comprehend what to do. Someone was at the door and Pierre was still inside of you, in shock. “Hey, y/n? Are you in there?” Max’s voice could be heard through the door. He tried to push the door in but the deadbolt stopped him.

You glared at Pierre, cleared your throat and placed a finger on his lips. “Yes, give me a few seconds.” You panicked and pulled your dress up, trying not to make too much noise.

Where the fuck was Pierre supposed to go? You should have just kept quiet. Your eyes focused on the window and you pointed towards it, quietly shoving him out.

He squeezed himself through the window and stepped down onto the grass. After quietly shutting the window, you looked in the mirror and readjusted your dress. Your hair needed some readjusting as well, so you quickly brushed through it.

You unlocked the deadbolt and opened the door to see your husband. “Hey,” he smiled at you, genuinely happy to see you.

“Hi, Max.” Your voice was shaking but you smiled to try to play it off. You usually had a good amount of time to psych yourself up before you went back to Max but you could still feel how Pierre had fucked you.

You were awful. He placed his hands on your hips and kissed your cheek. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You’re kind of hot.” He placed the back of his hand to your forehead.

“Yeah, it was really hot in there but I feel better now.” Hopefully he would buy that story.

“Well, if you’re feeling better now, I have an idea.” His hands rested on your hips again and pulled you into his body. “We have a few minutes to kill. What do you say we have a little bit of fun in here? It is our anniversary after all.” His lips found your neck and placed soft, gentle kisses on the skin. “You look so beautiful tonight, baby.” You were feeling sexually frustrated after being interrupted but he was right. It was your anniversary, so what the hell.

You leaned your neck to the side, inviting him in. “I love this dress, but it needs to come off.” He looked you in the eyes and smiled, reaching around for the zipper. He bent his knees and slowly pulled your dress to your ankles. His hands rested around your calves and move upwards while his lips trailed kisses on the soft skin of your thighs.

His finger pushed aside your panties and he slid a finger between your folds. “Jesus baby, you’re so wet.” He smiled and looked up at you. You moaned and rolled your eyes into the back of your head to avoid making eye contact with him. His tongue found its way between your legs, licking lightly before fucking your pussy with his tongue. You let out a moan while your body jerked toward his face uncontrollably. You needed him to finish you off so badly.

His fingernails ran lightly over the skin on your abdomen down to your thighs. “Oh, Max” you moaned.

Your hand quickly covered your mouth, remembering that even though he wasn’t out there possibly listening there were other people who shouldn’t hear you right now either.

He pulled his suit pants down and took himself in his hand, smiling at you. “I love you,” he said before entering you. He pressed against your body and thrusted up into you while looking in your eyes.

“I love you too, baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a moan.

Sometimes you forgot what it was like to have sex without the looming threat of someone finding out. Instead of worrying about someone catching you cheating, you were able to focus on the sensation and the intimacy but even now, something was missing.

Max left the bathroom before you, allowing you more time to clean up and look normal. You didn’t want to draw any more attention. “Hey guys, sorry I wasn’t feeling to well.” You said, grabbing your napkin off the table and taking your old seat. Max looked flushed for obvious reasons and couldn’t hide his smile.

You turned to your left and smiled at Pierre and Anna. “Did I miss anything?” Pierre’s gaze was glued to the stage ahead and he refused to look at you. His jaw was clenched and you could feel the steam coming out of his ears. You made eye contact with Anna and cocked your head in confusion. Why was he acting this way? Maybe Anna thinks it’s something she did wrong.

“Nothing important, for us at least,” she said, fixing single pieces of her hair.

Max’s hand gripped your inner thigh and he looked over to you and smiled. You returned the smile but immediately looked in Pierre’s direction to see him still refusing to look at you, his fist balled at his side.

Hotels in random cities at 2 am are lonely. The sound of Max’s snores kept you awake longer than expected. Your mind was wandering to places you wish it wouldn’t and you couldn’t get silence long enough to dream. The air conditioner in the room was set to the coolest temperature - hotel air always hitting different. Your mouth was dry, making you uncomfortable and adding to another thing making you unable to sleep.

You pulled the covers aside in frustration and grabbed a pair of shorts to put on under Max’s oversized Red Bull Racing shirt. You looked around for the room key and slid it off the table as soon as you spotted it.

As you stood in the elevator, you looked down and noticed your bare feet. It was 2 am so you were hoping there was no one important in the lobby. You just wanted a sip of cold water to help put you to sleep.

The night before races always made you nervous. You never knew what was going to happen so you had a constant pit in your stomach over your husband’s safety. That stress only increased when you began sleeping with another driver. Someone else’s safety to worry about.

You smiled at the older couple that greeted you when the elevator door opened. You crossed your arms and tip toed to the mini bar, grabbing the largest bottle of water they carried. After giving the gentleman your room number, you ran towards the closing elevator doors only to be met with familiar blue eyes. His hair was messy and his skin was glowing from sweat.

“Don’t mind me,” he said, stepping to one side. Even though he clearly just worked out you could still smell the strong scent of his cologne. “How have you been, y/n?”

“I’ve been okay. Your summer break looked fun,” you took a quick sip of your water and smiled at him.

“As did yours.” The silence was uncomfortable. You two were always laughing and talking nonstop. It was what you loved about him.

You focused on the pounding of your heart and your eyes wandered, trying to pass the uncomfortable time.

You suddenly lost your balance as the elevator shook, the lights flickered off, and the cables stopped. Turning your head towards Pierre, you began to get worried.

“Did this just break?” He asked, pressing the floor buttons and hoping the lights would come back on.

“Just our luck.” You laughed at yourselves. Why did the universe hate you? You plopped down onto the ground and twiddled your thumbs, realizing that you left your phone in the hotel room. “Do you have your phone?” You asked Pierre.

He lifted his wrist to show his apple watch. “I just went on a run. I never bring it with me on a run.” Of course he didn’t.

You groaned and banged your head on the wall behind you.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” He laughed, pleased with himself. He slid down to join you on the floor, the summer heat starting to creep into the elevator.

After not speaking for the entire summer break, this unconventional meeting was quite uncomfortable. You watched on Instagram as him and his wife vacationed in Bali, looking happy as ever. Granted, he did the same with you but he would never admit it. He had too much pride.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” You asked him, bluntly.

He looked at you making you feel dumb. “Why do you think I didn’t? I spent four weeks straight with Anna. Would you want me calling you up while you were on holiday with Max?”

“I don’t know,” you stumbled over your words. “I just would have liked to talk to you.”

“I told you before, I can’t keep doing this.” He said, exhausted at the back and forth you two had done.

“Yet, you do. You tease me and torture me and then say you need to be devoted to her. It’s not fair to me.” You let out a deep breath, exhausted over feeling this way.

“You want to talk about fair? You had sex with Max right after me. Less than five minutes after I was inside of you, he was too.”

You looked at him confused.

“I thought you were just going to talk to him for a few moments and then send him off.” Oh no. “I was waiting for you to open the window and let me back in.” He ran his hands over his face.

“Pierre, I’m so-”

“Don’t, y/n.”

He heard you and Max. You felt remorse for doing it, putting Pierre through that. But at the same time, you didn’t. Pierre is sleeping with his friend’s wife. He has no place to be jealous or mad. He comes second.

“How much did you hear?”

“I left when I heard him talk about how wet you were. He thought it was because of him but he had no idea that it was all for me.” Pierre scooted closer to you and put his hand on your thigh.  “He has no idea how wet you get for me.” He moved in closer to your ear. “How good I make you feel.”

Your head spun at his words. When he made you cum, you forgot about everything in the entire world except for him.

“I’m really sorry, Pierre. That was shitty of me.” You rested your hand on his chest. “Let me make it up to you.” Your hand moved to his thigh and grazed over his thin mesh gym shorts.

You pulled his shorts off and took him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head. He pulled your loose hair into his hand as a makeshift ponytail. He let soft groans escape his lips, being mindful of the setting. He would look down to see you taking him fully and have to look away or else he would finish quicker than he would like. Each time his eyes trailed down, his hips thrusted uncontrollably and a grunt would leave his lips.

“That’s it baby,” he said, in a low tone but almost whining. “God, your mouth feels so good. It was made to take my cock.” He continued to fill your mouth and throat, making you gag and tighten around him.

He pulled your head up by your hair and looked at you. “Come sit on my face.” He looked at your outfit, examining how he could take it off in the easiest way possible. He slipped off your comfortable sweat shorts, leaving you in just your Red Bull tee.

He laid down on the ground and hoisted your legs up and around his chest, getting the perfect view of your ass.

You stroked his cock and started to grind your hips against his chest. He took you in his hands immediately, not up for teasing, and pulled you onto his face. You rocked your hips over his face at a slow, light pace while still focusing on taking him in your mouth.

His tongue flicked your clit while his thumbs massaged your ass, pressing down hard and most definitely leaving bruises.

You moaned at the feeling of your legs beginning to tingle. He loved to 69 with you because every time you got an ounce of pleasure, your moans vibrated around his cock. You would tighten your throat and gag, sending him down a spiral. You both knew how to make each other feel incredible.

His facial hair tickled your inner thighs and left light scratches on the skin. As you ground your hips into his mouth, the sensation got rougher but the pleasure just increased.

He used his ab muscles to thrust into your throat, looking for his release. You tightened your grip around the base of his cock and suctioned even harder with your mouth as he let go.

Your legs went fully numb as the tension began to build in your stomach. You reached your peak, hearing Pierre’s tongue lap at your juices.

You rolled off of his body, looking for your shorts. The guilt was already beginning to set in and you couldn’t escape it now. You were stuck.

Pierre wiped his mouth with his hand and you noticed his whole face was wet. He was still smiling.

“I just hope Anna and Max aren’t standing there waiting for us when these doors decide to open.”

“Wouldn’t that be the icing on the cake?” You laughed, brushing your fingers through your now knotty hair.

Pierre pulled his shorts back on and looked at you. “Now be honest with me, who eats your pussy better? Me or him?”

“You can’t ask me that.”

“I can and I did.”

“Well, I’m not going to give you an answer.”

He laughed at you, not the reaction you were expecting. “Don’t worry, I already have the answer. I heard the sounds you make when he’s between your legs. It’s nothing compared to the sounds you just made for me.” He winked at you, knowing exactly where you stand with him.

next part

#f1 imagine #pierre gasly smut #pierre gasly fic #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 x reader #f1 blurb #smut prompts #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly smut ask #pierre gasly imagine #pg #mv

[hlizr50]

Gwynriel Week Day 2 - Favorite Headcanon

Bow or Bleed

Read on AO3

-Gwyn-

Gwyn examined herself in the mirror, turning her hips and looking over her shoulder. She was technically covered, but also decidedly not, navy chiffon so dark it was nearly black waterfalled down her legs, the milky skin of her leg exposed by the hip-high opening. The top of the gown had long sleeves and a deep neckline past her breastbone, but it was also sheer – strategically placed beading and applique crept up her stomach and over her breasts. It was certainly the most scandalous thing she’d ever worn.

Azriel had warned her before the meeting with the High Lord, nearly three weeks before. Times were peaceful – something they were all thankful for – but Rhysand wanted to remind the denizens of the Hewn City of the Night Court’s might, introducing the new division of their defenses. Therefore, the three female leaders of the Valkyries were requested. Her mate had kept her hand firmly gripped in his for the duration of the discussion, and that silent support was just one of the many reasons she loved him. So was his deference to her decision. That was something that had been a little more difficult to achieve, the shadowsinger being as protective as he was, particularly where Gwyn was concerned.

They had discussed in depth what she would find in the Court of Nightmares and the expectations that came along with being in attendance in a position of power. And while, in the three years they had been together, they had explored any number of intimate situations and dynamics in the comfort of their private home, it was Azriel who had suggested that Gwyn be regarded as the dominant one of the two.

The inhabitants of the Hewn City know that I am to be feared. And I want them to see the woman who has tamed the infamous spymaster and cower. Not only from a perspective of your safety, but to be perfectly frank it would be incredibly arousing.

She had laughed at that.

And so Azriel and Gwyn had painstakingly discussed every detail, the two of them valuing preparedness and knowledge above all else. Where would they be expected to stand? How were they expected to interact with the rest of the inner circle and the Valkyries? He came with her to dress fittings, discussing how the fabric would move and working with the Valkyrie and the seamstress to ensure she looked tempting enough to draw attention, but covered enough that she wouldn’t be constantly pulling and tugging. They had even come home with a replica of the skirt so they could train together, for the unfortunate possibility that violence might become a necessity.

So here she was, with her chosen sisters, examining herself one last time before their entrance into the Court of Nightmares. When she looked up she found Nesta at her shoulder.

“Ready, Gwyn?” The redhead could see the faint glimmer of concern in her friend’s eyes.

A reassuring grin crinkled the freckles dotting the former priestess’ nose and the corners of her eyes. She trailed her fingers over the hilt of the dark blade sheathed at her thigh, drawing strength from its weight and the lingering power from the hands that wielded it. Gwyn nodded, the copper waterfall of her high ponytail brushing past her ears and cheeks.

“Let’s give them a show,” Emerie quipped with a smirk.

Gwyn regarded the two females that had been at her side, constant support and friendship and love over the past four years. Nesta was a queen in every sense, beautiful and dangerous, with a neckline that dipped even lower than her own. Her gown fit tight against her, black velvet rich and luxurious. She wore her weapon for everyone to see, the sword Ataraxia hanging from the black leather riding her hips. Her leg was also revealed by a near-indecent slit in the midnight cloth, the tightness of the dress pulling the ends apart and baring it for all to see.

And then there was Emerie, who had opted for pants, tailored just right to show off the strength in her legs. Black silk fell loosely from her honey brown shoulders creating lovely drapes over her front and baring her smooth muscled arms. The back of the garment only met at the small of her back, letting all appreciate the ripples and cords of muscle and the incredible wings that marked her as Illyrian.

Emerie smiled wryly, ready to intimidate, but it was Nesta who pushed open the wooden doors with as much force as she could muster. Gwyn was inwardly satisfied at the sound that cut through the cavern. She lifted her chin and fixed her gaze forward toward the raised dais, where the High Lord and Lady sat enthroned in dark power. She would not turn her gaze toward the shadowsinger as they strode in, footfalls synchronized as if they marched into battle. She kept her head lifted, near-arrogant smirk on her wine-painted lips.

But, Mother, could she feelhim. The flicker of power, the gold thread between them taut with heat and tightly coiled desire. Gwyn didn’t dare a glance, but she could feel the burn of his hazel gaze – likely now closer to molten gold – roaming over her.

The three Valkyries stopped at the foot of the dais, Nesta in front with Gwyn and Emerie at her shoulders. When they each fell to one knee before their High Lord and Lady, the copper-haired warrior could feel the cool, moist air prickling the skin of her now-exposed thigh. But she didn’t feel exposed, even with so much less of her covered than she was accustomed to. She didn’t feel weak, even as she bowed in the midst of this infamous court. She was a wholly different person from the quaking priestess that had been rescued from Sangravah, and it was this court that had helped build her up. She was a warrior, a Valkyrie, one of eight Carynthians to ever exist, and now she was a general. And through all that she had become a sister, friend, lover, and mate, and it was those bonds that truly gave her strength.

They rose and turned to face the court, and Gwyn did her best to observe nonchalantly. So many leering stares, expressions of disgust – so many fragile males opposed to the concept of powerful women.

“The Valkyries were legendary in the Great War, and we are pleased that these three females have resurrected their practice and built new ranks.” Rhysand’s voice was rich and dark, like the velvet that clung to Nesta’s skin. “As their skills have improved and their ranks have deepened, the Valkyries have been inducted as an official division of the Night Court defense. Even in times of peace we all know that it is imperative to remain dedicated and prepared. These three females join the ranks of my Inner Circle as generals, and they will be respected as such.” There was a pregnant pause after his statement, the court regarding the three of them, sizing them up. “Any word or action against them will be counted as a word or action against myself or the High Lady. And while all of the denizens of the Hewn City understand how I manage those slights, let them rest assured that these women will exact their own justice.” After one more glower over the crowd the females split apart, turning toward their respective mates.

That’s when she finally laid her eyes on the Spymaster of the Night Court, clothed in black leather and swathed in shadows. The angles and planes of his face, in this dark place, made him impossibly more beautiful. He was an imposing creature when he needed to be, and in the Court of Nightmares he would only be seen as this man of malice – an angel of death.

With near-glowing eyes fixed on her and her alone.

-Azriel-

This plan could have been a grave mistake.

Not because Gwyn wasn’t absolutely breathtaking and fearless, and not because he didn’t believe that any male would think twice before approaching her with the shadowsinger apparently on her leash.

No, this plan was very potentially a mistake because Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to keep himself from swathing them in shadows and ravishing her in the middle of the damned great hall as soon as she was within arm’s reach.

He’d known what the dress would look like on her tall frame – he had accompanied her to consultations and fittings, ensuring that his mate would feel comfortable and safe during this foray into the sinister underbelly of the Night Court. The inspiration for Amarantha’s domain not-so-long ago.

To say that the idea of Gwyn stepping foot in this place had given him pause would be a grievous understatement. His shadows had twirled around his wings in agitation when Rhys had informed him, but he also knew that his mate was not the same girl he had rescued from Sangravah those years ago. He had agreed to let her hear the request and decide for herself what she would do, and he would be happy to do everything in his power to ensure that she was prepared.

The female that faced him now was nothing short of a queen.

Azriel found himself thinking back through the times that he had been rendered breathless by her astonishing beauty – more times than he could count. The first time he’d seen her in the Valkyrie leathers he thought he might have to leave the room, lest he melt into a heap on the floor before her. Their first Starfall together his shadows had frozen around him as he remembered how to breathe, her dress and eyes outsparkling the heavens. The evening of their mating ceremony, where a simple silk shift had sent tendrils of inky mist dancing and had nearly set his soul on fire.

Before him was a warrior, confident and ferocious. And his. Her skin was moonlight against the darkest blue the seamstress could find, curves barely concealed beneath lace and beading that had been expertly placed to toe the line between demure and deadly. Makeup was not something the former priestess indulged in often, but the wine-red that painted her full lips tempted him to lick his own and the kohl lining her teal pools only seemed to set them ablaze. The high ponytail was somewhat unexpected, but it was the sight of the blade strapped to her thigh – so dark it seemed to absorb any light that dared touch it – that had the breeches of his leathers tightening considerably and his twirling shadows thickening.

Truth-teller.

Neither of them needed weapons to be deadly, but that didn’t mean they would venture into the Court of Nightmares unarmed. And there would be no better way to send a message to any who dared covet his mate than for her to brandish the deadly blade that was known throughout the continent.

Gwyn strode toward him, head held high. She had schooled her expressive eyes into cool indifference, something she had likely learned from him, but Azriel could spy a glimmer of mischief. She was enjoying this game, and he was more than content to play it with her. He lowered his chin and dropped to one knee as she approached, and his shadows could hear the whispers of stunned onlookers as the spymaster placed himself firmly beneath the Valkyrie in the hierarchy. A wry grin curled his lips as he watched those exquisitely formed legs come to a halt before him and the hand at her right hip present itself. He kept his gaze fixed on the speckled flesh of her knuckles as he raised his own scarred hand, cobalt siphon flickering, and grasped her fingers before leaning in to reverently press his lips to her knuckles. He could feel the golden warmth of her satisfaction in his chest, sparks of desire intermixed.

When he released her hand it moved to his face, two long elegant fingers landing under his chin and pulling it upward. Lifting his gaze, he found her face alight with fierce confidence.

“Shadowsinger,” she purred, applying more pressure to encourage him to rise before her. Their stares were transfixed in the eyes of the other as he did so, her hand only moving far enough to land in a possessive grip toward the back of his neck. He couldn’t hide the smirk that crawled over his lips, enamored as he was with the predatory confidence that she wore.

“My lady,” he murmured, dipping his chin. “You look absolutely exquisite.” The slightest pink blossomed on her cheeks, proving that she was not completely immune to his charm. She circled him and stepped up behind him onto the first stair to the dais, keeping her palm on is neck. He had to stifle a groan, reveling in her possessive touch and the heat of her at his back between his wings. Her breath snaked across his ear and his skin pebbled, her lips like a phantom touch over the shell of it.

“You are beautiful and dark, as always, love,” Gwyn whispered before dipping her chin and pressing those soft painted lips just below where the sharp line of his jaw met his neck. His breath shuddered and his mate gave a soft giggle. “Your shadows are quite… friendly tonight.”

“Well, lovely general, I can hardly be expected to control them when you make it so difficult for me to even manage myself,” Azriel breathed.

“Hmmm. You do make an excellent point.” She gripped his jaw and pulled it to the side to claim his lips with a bruising kiss. When she released him he nearly drowned in the teal pools that captured his gaze. He could see the challenge there, the desire, the pride. He loved when he could glimpse those things in her expression, when he could put those feelings there. Gods, the way it felt to bow before her, to be the one she trusted to submit to her will. It was a distinct possibility he wouldn’t survive the night.

“I know you have duties, Shadowsinger,” the Valkyrie stated softly, dropping her fingers from his jaw. His permission to leave her side, to stride through the shadows and dark corners of this hall to ensure that members of this court still understood the price of disrespect and the power of fear. He turned, tucking his wings tight to avoid striking her. He meant to look back into those piercing, starlit eyes, but his gaze caught on Truth-teller at her thigh. He lifted a mottled hand and settled his palm over the hilt, letting his callused fingers brush delicately over that tempting sliver of porcelain flesh. Leaning down, he brushed his mouth over the peek of skin just above his thumb.

“Wine, my lady?” He straightened and grinned crookedly at her flushed neck and chest. She dipped her chin in confirmation and he turned, striding into the throng of revelers. Hopefully his High Lord didn’t expect him to listen too closely. It was peacetime, after all, and he had to contend with every delicious image of Gwyn flashing through his mind. Hopefully his shadows would pick up on anything glaring and drag his attention out of the gutter.

He had retrieved two goblets and turned back toward the dais when he felt a twinge of anxiety in his chest, tightening the golden thread that connected the Shadowsinger and the Valkyrie. He weaved quickly in and out of the dark swaths in the hall, his shadows carrying to him the echoes of words between her and a yet-unknown male.

“…quite an actress, priestess…”

Azriel quieted the snarl that threatened to push through his lips as he rounded a pillar silently, finding Gwyn’s back pressed against it and the male – one of the darkbringers, he realized – doing his best to tower over her. He stayed silent, tucked into the darkness. He had vowed not to intervene until it became obvious that she couldn’t handle the situation. And while he had felt the moment of uncertainty in their bond, his mate looked calm and nonchalant – if not a small bit annoyed.

“Although I find it difficult to believe that a timid acolyte from the library sanctuary could best the Spymaster. They say the women in the great library have experienced great horrors, but perhaps if you warm the bed of the angel of death, you’re into that kind of thing.”

The male had lifted a hand to Gwyn’s face, making to touch her. And quick as the wind she had Truth-teller in her hand, blade against a particularly sensitive part of the male who thought he could dare to insinuate what he did, much less dare to touch her. Azriel saw the rage sparkling in her gaze, all traces of anxiety and annoyance gone.

“Think very carefully about the next thing you say,” she hissed. When the male tried to smirk and play it off she pushed the blade the slightest bit deeper, the edge biting into the leather of his pants. “I am a general. I won the Illyrian Blood Rite. I have bested far more intimidating creatures than yourself. So do ask yourself if you want to test your luck.”

Azriel’s lips twisted into a sadistic smile, basking in the glow of his mate’s strength. Her eyes darted to him for a split second, and the male’s eyes followed. The color drained from his face when he saw the rippling shadows twisting and rising like flames over his shoulders and wings. But a push against the dagger at his crotch shifted his attention back to Gwyn.

“Hear me now, brute,” she seethed. “I do not always keep my Shadowsinger so tightly leashed. And he does not take kindly to unimpressive, brainless males touching the female that he belongs to.” My Shadowsinger. The female that he belongs to. Mother above, those words went straight to his already-straining cock. “So I hope that little thrill that pulsed through your undoubtedly underwhelming dick when you thought you could intimidate me and bend me to your desires… I do so hope it was worth it.”

The male stepped away with hands raised, but the copper-haired queen kept her blazing stare on him, dagger still ready in her hand.

“Shadowsinger, I hope you have that wine,” she cooed, sheathing the weapon when Azriel stepped to her side. He offered her the goblet and then offered her an arm, muscles and shadows tremoring from barely contained fury. His instincts warred within him, an urge to rip the male limb from limb against the desire to whisk his mate into an alcove and plunge his tongue between her legs until she was screaming his name. He wasn’t sure if he had ever desired her with such a feral male pride, and from the heat blooming across her chest he could tell that she could feel that pulsing need through their bond. But her breathing was slightly more shallow than normal, and he remembered that nervous twinge he’d felt before she’d nearly castrated the man. The spymaster let them to a darkened corner, shadows swallowing them and hiding them from prying eyes and ears.

“Are you alright, songbird?” All pretense and games were gone, leaving only the soft voice of a protective male concerned for the love of his eternity. He took her wine glass and set both of them on the stone floor. When he straightened he pinned her with his gaze and raised callused fingers to trace the freckles on her cheek. Gwyn sighed a calming breath and leaned into his touch.

“Yes, love. I was nervous for a moment, but I think I handled things quite well,” she smiled widely. He released a dark chuckle of his own, stepping into her and pinning her gently against the wall. Azriel tilted his head and leaned down, pressing his lips against the sensitive space under hear ear. Nipping at it, then flicking his tongue over the spot to soothe it, smiling against her soft flesh as he felt her gasp beneath him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more aroused in my life, Gwyneth Berdara,” he uttered into her neck, voice low and guttural. He pressed his hips against her, letting her feel what she had done to him. “When you called me yours, when you said I belong to you… Gods, nothing has ever been truer.”

Azriel dragged his lips wantonly over her jaw toward her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip when he got there. He was on fire for her, every inch of him aflame with want for his warrior queen. He crushed his lips into hers, tongue beseeching. She gave in without pause, and he greedily pulled at her lips and tongue. He wanted to breathe her in, needed to taste her.

“Azriel,” she gasped, but he continued pouring himself into her, only stopping when her hands cupped his face gently. He pulled back and took in her swollen lips and lust-darkened eyes. “We need to behave, remember?” The shadowsinger groaned, earning a musical laugh from the Valkyrie. He leaned his forehead against hers.

“Fine,” he growled. “But as soon as we get home, rest assured, I will have you. And I want you to keep Truth-teller on that pretty thigh.”

Gwyn’s cheeks turned crimson and his throat rumbled with approval. He pressed a quick, hard kiss into her lips before stepping back, giving her some air to cool the heat on her face. Swiftly, he scooped up their wine goblets and offered his elbow to her.

“Ready to terrorize more unsuspecting males, my lady?” Azriel grinned wickedly, and she threw her head back, a cackle erupting from her throat. She tucked her starkissed hand into the crook of his arm.

“Always, Shadowsinger.” Quickly, before he let his shadows disperse, she pressed a chaste kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

The bond burned golden fire in his chest, swelling with love and contentment and bliss. “I love you, too, Berdara.” He murmured, and then they were in the throng again, the music and revelry of the Hewn City swallowing them. He let his shadows wander and listen, but his attention was focused on his mate for the remainder of the evening. He marveled at her confidence, her strength, the pride she felt at being able to conquer this moment. Feyre may be his High Lady, but Gwyneth Berdara was his queen. And, if tonight was any indication, he would gladly bow before her for the rest of his immortal life.

#gwynriel fanfiction #gwynriel week #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel supremacy #gwynriel

[rogue-durin-16]

HIS WARM EYES

Summary: Some members of the Order are reticent about letting in a Lestrange, specially after Snape's betrayal. Whilst taking Harry to the the burrow, an ambush has place. Everything points to Y/n, right?

Pairing: George Weasley x Slytherin!Lestrange!Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

George Weasley: @meph1stophelian

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @skarlettmikaelson

Warnings: blood, injuries, death

A/N: OH MY GOD THIS IS SO LONG AND BAD— I AM GENUINELY SORRY BUT I HAD TO

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Lestrange wasn't a good name.

It wasn't a good name in the streets, nor in close-doors, let alone amongst The Order.

That's why I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that they had accepted me— well, maybe 'accepted' was a strong word; they had let me in, reticent, weary, but still they had done it. Plus, after Snape's betrayal and Dumbledore's death, no one would think there was a vacant for a Slytherin and a Lestrange.

It wasn't until I found myself exiting the abandoned Grimauld's Place along with the rest of the volunteers to go to Privet Drive, that it dawned on me; they were short on people.

They were so short on people that the Order would have to swallow my name, my family and my House.

That didn't mean they would quiet down their opinions about me being there.

"I'm gonna say it." Fred announced, taking a spot in the living room's corner while Shacklebolt, Arthur and Lupin searched the place.

"Again?" Fleur groaned.

Fred had already spoken his mind about my presence before we reached Potter's house.

His and George's shocked looks had been on me since the very first moment I had walked into the old Black's home, which was understandable; last time they saw me I was joking about joining the death eaters.

Although the shock on their faces had been accompanied by very different emotions on each.

Fred's held reticence. During our school years, he had never liked me; I would dare to say he was scared of me, even.

George's gaze, on the other hand, held hope —maybe even excitement— which was comforting.

In our first year, I had managed to draw George's interest, and for three years he was adamant about Slytherins not being 'all that bad'.

George's friendship was the thread I was hanging on; he was the only thing stopping from taking the easy way and live up to my name.

The thread was cut after he asked his mother to bring me over during Christmas, which ended up in her forbidding him to talk to me. He, being George Weasley, ignored his mom's pleads and twin's scolding and still tried his best to stay close to me, so I did what was right and, at the end of our fifth year, I cut ties with him.

It hurt more than I would dare to admit.

After our drifting apart, I was forced to completely rely on Slytherins. And you see, Slytherins, as 11 year-old George would say, aren't all that bad, but the ones my name attracted were.

They were bad sort —the worst—, and keeping that company around after our sixth year wasn't the best record to have, but Merlin's sake, I was there, I had volunteered— people change.

"Son." His father warned Fred, well aware this wasn't the time, though he obviously wanted to side with him. "Don't start again."

"Someone has yet to tell me why is she here?"

"She has a name." I hissed, unable to stop myself.

"Which is why you shouldn't be here, Lestrange." The name rolled out of his tongue like poison. "She's not one to trust."

"Oi, she's willing to risk her life, isn't she?" George's words seemed to be meant to calm his twin's temper, though his warm eyes did land on mines with a reassuring look.

"Yeah but for whom?" I tried to stay quiet as Moody had asked me too, but Fred was making it quite difficult. "If something goes wrong—"

"Weasley!" Mad-eye's tone was dry as he bursted into the room. "Are you questioning my judgment?" Fred scoffed, but stayed quiet.

"If we're throwing in the surnames, you're gonna wanna know her mum's my auntie." Tonks spoke, folding her arms.

"But you're a Hufflepuff." He was quick to respond, giving me a disgusted look. "She's a Serpent."

"And you're still a mouthful, aren't you?!" I snapped, stepping forward, though Tonks gave me a lazy tug before I could get to Fred.

"Wanna fight, Lestrange?" He had taken a couple of steps in my direction already when George yanked his twins arm.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" He yelled, giving his brother a push. "She's here for Harry! She's helping! What else do you want?!"

"Oh my gosh, Georgie— get over your teen crush already, she's not on our team!" George's knuckles went visibly white, unlike his cheeks, which turned red.

"Are you done making a scene? The three of you." Bill questioned in a calm tone, resting against the window's bench. "I don't fancy the idea either, but we need help, Fred, so shut your mouth because we have things to do."

"Pity, I was enjoying the teen drama." Moody teased before grabbing his flask and the ones who would take the Polyjuice potion moved to stand in line.

"Y/n." George's hand brushed my hand, drawing my attention to him as we stood besides one another. "I'm glad you're here." He whispered with a side smile.

"Missed me much?" I couldn't help but grin back, bumping his arm with mine. I stole a proper look at him and thought I might as well ask before the mission. "So... Teen crush huh?" I wiggled my eyebrows at him, though I could feel my own face flushing.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't fancy George —could someone blame me?—, and the idea of those feelings not being unrequited was very appealing.

He only threw his head back and looked away, the half smile growing wider and more bashful. "We'll talk about it at the Burrow." He assured me, taking the flask with his right hand and squeezing mine with his left.

"If we don't die before that." I was joking, but fear was shaking me to the core.

"We won't." He looked at the potion disgusted and gave me a peeked at me saying, "You have to hear me embarrass myself first." And with a wink, he drank the potion and passed it to me.

Gosh, I couldn't get over the mission to hear him 'embarrass' himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

The first five minutes were calm, despite all of us being on edge. We kept checking on each other, dreading if we lost sight of someone, that someone would banish.

The storm came when we had to dive into the dark clouds.

Funnily enough, I did think it was a literal storm before entering; oh, what I would have given for it to be a literal storm.

Black, cloaked intruders flew among us, making us divide in the pairs we had been assigned to.

Lupin started casting protegos and hexes to everyone that got too close while I tried to take down as many enemies as possible.

A couple of yelled warnings were heard when both Moody and the real Harry had entered the ambush.

"WATCH OUT!" Tonks screamed, flying past me with Ron at her tail. "REMUS!" She made a signal to her husband "ESCORT!" I got the hint; we were supposed to clear Moody's and Y/n's way so it would confuse our attackers while Tonks and Shacklebolt made sure to get Harry out of there.

"ON MY LEFT!" Lupin shouted over the chaos, changing to my right for me to be by Y/n's side.

"WE'RE FUCKED!" She yelled dropping her flight to dodge an Avada Kedavra.

"WE'LL MANAGE!" I automatically dropped my flight with hers too, which was a bad decision, since we had gotten rid of the protection provided by Lupin, Mad-eye and Bill and Fleur.

Soon enough three death eaters came flying towards us.

"STUPEFY!" another Harry with the voice of Fred passed by us, closely followed by my dad.

"GO BACK UP!" Y/n was quicker than me following my father's instructions; when I did though, I realised the little formation we had going on was gone.

Suddenly, all we could hear were screams; it felt as if someone was missing but I blamed it on everyone flying around like a chicken with its head cut off.

Tonks almost crashed against me on her way down; Ron was nowhere near me, nor Lupin.

We were outnumbered, and instead of moving forward, we were stuck in the grey clouds, trying not to die.

It took me a hot second, a crash against a death eater and a couple of hexes to get to Lupin, and even when I did, it was a hard task to keep track of him.

I had just taken out someone in my way when I caught a glimpse of something my eyes refused to believe.

Snape.

Our bloody professor was trying to kill us.

I felt the need to laugh at the situation.

"GEORGE!" It was Y/n's voice snapping me out of it, although her actions shocked me even more.

Y/n casted a spell on me, pushing my broomstick to the left and consequently making me crash against Lupin and lose balance.

Then something happened, something my mind didn't quite process.

At first it felt like a slap, but the pain stung my side as if someone had sliced me with a blade.

I didn't hear my own cry, nor Lupin's desperate 'help'; I didn't feel his hands struggling to take a firm hold of me, nor my own shakily reaching to my side, searching for an injury I didn't want to find.

A second after that, everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

As soon as my father and I apparated in the fields of our home, I ran into the house. For some unexplainable reason, it felt as if something wasn't right.

A couple of steps into the house were enough for that 'something' to strike me. George had been laid on the settee, barely conscious; blood was covering the side of his face, neck and left shoulder, making his hair and clothes stick to his skin.

I was left speechless at the sight, my eyes welling up while I dragged my feet towards my twin.

"Mad-Eye is dead." Bill's words, despite sounding far away, made the gears in my head turn.

Lupin was quicker than me, though, "I told you we couldn't trust a Lestrange!"

"Remus! we don't know—" Tonks tried to calm him down, just to be cut off by Bill.

"Mad-Eye and Lestrange traveled between us and" he gestured at our wounded brother, "Remus and George." His jaw twitching let me know that he was desperately trying to stay calm. "Mad-Eye is dead and my brother just lost an ear, who is it if not bloody Lestrange, Dora?"

"Bill..." Fleur held onto her fiance's arm in an attempt to ground him.

"Did you see her disapparating?" Tonks's point was logical and hopeful.

George would have sided with her.

My eyes fixed on my wounded twin again. He was as pale as a corpse now, and the absence of his ear was way more noticeable now that my mother had begun to remove the blood.

George would have sided with Tonks because he wanted to trust Y/n, and he couldn't even speak because of that same reason.

Since everyone was arguing, they missed the flash of someone apparating near the front door.

I didn't.

Before I knew it, I was running outside with my wand in hand, Lupin and Bill following me instantly when they realised what I had just seen.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Y/n's wand flew to my hand even before I could properly see her.

My rushed march came to a halt when I was a couple of feet away from her, making Bill bump into me; she was as pale as George, maybe more.

She took a seemingly calm, deep breath before attempting to walk.

Luckily, I saw the pools of blood on her shirt and stepped to reach her before she could touch the ground.

"Oh my..." Lupin covered his mouth with both his hands and Bill stood frozen at the sight of the girl in my arms. "MOLLY!!" my old professor yelled at the top of his lungs, going as livid as me.

We shouldn't talk on impulse, I told myself, rushing into the kitchen with Y/n in my arms. A series of gasps and regretful whispers broke the silence while I laid her on the dining table.

"Y/n?" George's trembling voice was heartbreaking, and, as my dad forced him to stay on the couch, I prayed the girl in my arms would survive.

"Oh Lord..." My mother muttered, examining her. It wasn't only her shirt stained with blood; her left leg and arm were too. "Oh dear..."

"She took the blow." Lupin ran his hands through his hair, understandably stressed. After a couple of seconds, her turned to my dad and commanded, "Get him up. Quick— go get him up." His eyes stared right into my soul and I dreaded the worst, but still obeyed and helped my dad drag George to the dining table.

I heard Lupin telling Bill something about Sectumsempra, and my heart sunk.

She took the blow.

"No..." George's murmur was close to a cry, but it was enough for Y/n's eyes to snap open.

"George." tears were effortlessly streaming down her cheeks at the sight of him. "You're... A-alive..."

"Please stay" My brother fell on his knees, reaching for Y/n's bloody hand with his own. We all looked away to give them some kind of intimacy, except from my mother, who was still trying to fix the poor girl.

I heard them both whispering sweet nothings with shattered voices until only one of them died out. I looked over to Tonks, whose eyes were gleaming with tears, and then to Lupin.

I couldn't bring myself to look at George.

After a moment of intense sobbing, my dad managed to pull my twin away from the corpse, and we carried him back to the settee.

I stayed with him the night, holding his hand and assuring him it was not his fault, but I knew my words would have little effect on his state; after all, he had been in love with Y/n for years.

All those years he had spent trying to convince all of us that Y/n was a good person, that we should give her a chance; all those years begging our mother to bring her over because she wanted to see our home.

Now her body was lying on our kitchen and I knew none of us would forgive ourselves for misjudging her.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Nervous?" A tall, redheaded kid appeared besides me; I supposed he didn't know my name by the warmth and curiosity with which his eyes stared at me.

"Aren't we all?" I replied with an anxious laugh.

He seemed to think for a moment before nodding. "Fair point, though I'll probably go into Gryffindor." He assured me with a proud smile, causing my head to cast down. "What is it?"

"Oh nothing," I shrugged, aware I would not be able to befriend that sweet boy with warm eyes. "I think I'll be sorted into Slytherin."

"Nonsense!" His intentions had been obviously to reassure me, but when he realised his response only made it worse, he added. "It'd be wicked to have a Slytherin friend, though." My eyes widened at his words; did he just— "I'm George, by the way."

"I'm Y/n."

"That's a very pretty name." Professor Mcgonagall led us into the Great Hall, and before I knew what was happening, George's hand was holding mine. "It'll be fine."

The lighting of the Castle changed once the Great Hall's doors opened; a bright, white light seemed to be coming out of it.

"Wait!" My hand gripped George's before he could leave my side. "Can you hold my hand? I-I'm scared." My voice no longer sounded like a 11 year old.

For some reason I didn't comprehend, my eyes were watery, making the view in front of me blurry.

"Don't be scared, darling." When I turned to George, I didn't see a kid; it was him, in the expensive suit I had seen him mere hours ago. "I'm here."

I just nodded and, swallowing my fear, took a step ahead, and then another one, and another, until I reached the Great Hall.

#harry potter fanfiction #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley fanfic #george weasley angst #george x y/n #george x reader #george x reader angst #george weasley one shot #the seven potters #deathly hallows #deadly hallows part 1 #hp fic #hp dh

[oh-for-fic-sake]

It’s A Match Chapter Two

Masterlist

Summary: as you and henry become closer he lets his family know there may be a new woman on the scene. And you surprize him by moving a little quicker then he had thought. Not that he is against it. He is all to eager to move along to the next step.

Warnings: RPF, Swearing, Angst, Heated Discussions, Fluff.

A/N: here is chapter two, this will only be a short fic maybe there or four chapters but i hope you all like it. This is just me writing down my fluffy fantasy.

Taglist: In Reblogs.

'Shes a big fluffy teddy bear, and loves hugs, even if Shes crushing me~' henry froze hands quivering nervously over the keyboard. You replied? You actually? Holy shit! He bit his lip sitting up straighter with a grin and smoothed his hair back. He wasn't sure why it made him so happy but? He had a reply, and actual reply from a person! A woman!

Now what?

He wracked his brain and frowned. What does he say? Does he ask questions or just talk about dogs? He didn't know all he did know is that he had messaged a complete stranger and she had messaged back.

'I can imagine moving her must be hard work if she's comfy'

'Yeah but on the plus side she's always warm~ a huge hot water bottle'

'A numb but warm set of legs then😂'

'Absolutely! That sounds like the talk of a man who's been there?'

'Yes I have an American Akita, a very snuggly boy that gives me atleast one dead leg a day😅'

'Aww I love Akita's, I was going to get one but them Amii sort of fell into my lap, and has stayed there ever since'

'Big or small a lap dog is a lap dog'

'Definitely😂' Henry paused. Shit what does he do now? Does he just ask questions? Explain a bit more about himself? Both seemed a little too juvenile... And it was scary... Awkward he wants a nice chat, for conversation to flow naturally. He didn't want to fuck up. There was another ping as you typed another message.

' I have to say I'm surprized I got a message on here, only been on here for a few days😅' henry was thankfull, you wasn't going to judge. You were both in the same boat. Both nervously talking to a stranger in the hopes of there being something more. It made replying a little easier, he hoped that things would get less awkward after breaking the ice.

'Really? I made mine today... not sure about all this new online stuff but will figure it out'

'Well I'd say your doing alright,  at least you had the courage to message someone, i made the profile then chickened out😅'

'I almost did, your the first profile that caught my eye'

'Was it Amii?'

'No, as cute as she is you lacked a duck face selfie, and you look very sweet and have kind eyes' henry froze after sending the message. Shit, shit! That was fucking cheese! Cringe and just a fuck up! He quickly wracked both hands through his hair and cursed trying to think of a way to get out of this but nothing came to mind... And then he saw it the tiny y/n is typing... At the bottom of the screen, he winced dreading the reply he was going to get. He bit his lip worried he hopes he hasn't tripped at the first hurdle.

'Thank you that's kind of you to say. And is a missing duck face that strange?🤔'

'Every woman has a duck face'

'Well I do not have a duck face'

'Really?🤨'

'Well not a good one 😅My duck face is sub par more a fish face, call me guppy😂' he chuckled, you did have a sense of humour which was good. He liked making people laugh and not having them take everything so seriously, it meant he could relax and let loose. To just have fun! He heaved a big sigh unconsiously petting Kal as he sat up and leant on his leg. He quickly began typing once more finding it easier chatting with a stranger with each message.

'🤣🤣 I got to admit I'm not sure what to talk about, this is my first time🤔'

'Well that makes us both online virgins😅lets start with the important things shall we?' Henry froze panicking. 'Oh god! Oh god! What ere you going to ask?!' He thought watching the little dots on the screen holding his breath dreading you'd ask for picture or something. He was put out of his misery with a tiny ping sound and your message popped up. He threw his head back and laughed outloud seeing the all important question.

'Who's your favourite superhero?' You were definitely a geek girl, just like he wanted. He bit his lip and typed without needing to think of the answer.

'Superman, afterall he is the grand daddy of all superheroes. You?'

'Oh your not gonna like this~ I love batman🤗' henry smiled at the screen and leant back wiping his mouth trying to massage the ache from his cheeks. He really was grinning ear to ear just from speaking to you so... Unguarded he was just being himself and it was freeing!

'Oh no!😱can I ask why?' He typed quickly not wanting you to think he was going to keep you on read? Was that what they called it nowadays?

'He proves that at 30 you can have a dramatic goth early midlife crisis and that regular assholes can be heroes too, all you need is money🤗🤗'

'🤣🤣 oh god! You know I never thought of it like that!' henry shook his head laughing out loud as he replied

'But you'll be happy to know supes is number three on my list'

'Well he makes the top three so that's salvageable😆'

'Yeah... Two is Captain America though'

'Rich goth with issues, man with an expensive tea tray, then supes got it 👌👍'

'Omg yes!😂that's sums it up beautifully🤣' after that the conversation moved on which he was a little thankful for. Not that he disliked geeking out but... it'd be easy for him to slip up on that subject. Luckily though he didn't have to think of a change of topic as you began chatting away casually about your day and he did in return before long the conversation was over too soon as you stated you really had to get on with filling out these payslips. So the chat drew to a close with promises of speaking tomorrow.

And you kept your promise. For the next week you both spent your evenings chatting away at one another becoming fast friends. That was when he decided to let his family know in the new weekly face time zoom chats.

He looked to the screen fidgeting as his family spoke amongst themselves trying to find the right moment to break the news. But his mother had noticed and asked him out right, leaning closer to the screen watching him worriedly.

"Henry? Are you alright your looking nervous?" The others stopped speaking at the question and henry heaved a sigh nervously twisting his fingers.

"Yeah yeah I... I just have some news... Is all" he said swallowing trying to find the words. He was worried, it had been a while since he'd tried to introduce someone new into his life and his family. He didn't want to alarm them but... he wanted to forewarn them that he was on his way to hopefully sharing his life with someone.

"News? Oh its nothing bad is it?" His younger brother asked, but his oldest paused straightening up with a smile already guessing his brother had taken his advice.

"No nothing bad... Its really good actually... I'm sort of... well I'm speaking to someone online... A woman"  he stuttered rubbing the back of his neck and called Kal onto the sofa with him stroking his fur trying to calm himself and fend of the huge grin that seemed to spread across his face everytime he thought of you.

"You did it?" His eldest brother called out clapping his hands excitedly. A ripple of confusion washed over the others and they frowned looking to one another unsure what had happened between the two.

"Did what love?" His mother finally asked not understanding what her sons were talking about

"I made an online dating profile" he said plainly drawing gasps from everyone.

"Oh gosh love are you okay? Your not being hounded are you?" His mother jumped immediately concern etched deep in her features. His father looked uncomfortable-hell they all did! Each worrying over him. He wasn't surprized they had seen fans both love and hate on him and his partners.

"No mum its fine-better then fine I'm really carful... I've covered my ass and no one knows its me, she doesn't know" he said trying to placate his family but instead he was rewarded with disappointed faces, tutting and small, cringing hisses. Fuck.

"Oh god Henry you haven't made a fake profile? Tell me you didn't- please tell me your not lying to this poor woman" his father scolded sternly. His dad may not be up to speed with all this new age online dating shenanigans but he did know that it was wrong to lie to a potential partner. Just thinking that one of his boys were doing just that left a bad taste in his mouth. If he could he would clip his son around the ear!

"Well no not exactly- its me and I'm myself on there I just... changed my name to Hank... And crop my photos so she can see me but not recognise me that's all! I swear I'm not lying or-or anything!" he explained willing then to understand but with the deep sighs and unimpressed looks he got it would seem they didn't understand or approve.

"Are you sure about this? What will she think if things get serious and then this young lady finds out you've been lying?" he father spoke up again wanting to hash this out. Henry faltered for a moment, he worried about that too. He was frightened that you'd get angry and leave him without even giving him a chance!

"I'm not lying, I just? just omitting certain details about my life, I'm being me I'm showing her the real quirky geeky side of me- this is? Its my one shot! The only chance I'm going to get to have someone look at me, not what they can get out of me... I'm not going to blow it or hurt her... if we get to that point then I will explain things- she'd understand she's really thoughtful and is logical" henry pleaded trying to convince both himself and his family. He cant ignore it, he was worried and had been telling himself over and over you'd understand. But he also knew it could really shake you up. But what he was doing wasn't wrong! It couldn't be helped, he thought they would understand!

"Well I hope so because you could break her heart son... And I want you to understand that, this woman could fall for you. You could really upset her when she finds out" his father finally spoke drawing the issue to a close not wanting to argue, but he still wanted henry to know what ever happens was his own fault good or bad. Not everything ends with a happy ever after, but he didn't need to voice that out loud. Henry knew, they all did.

"I know dad, I've only been speaking to her just over a week anyway, for all i know she will ghost me or something" henry nodded calming a little not wanting to fight but still it was clear to everyone henry hadn't appreciated the lecture.

"Ghosting?" he mum perked up trying to diffuse the situation not wanting this to blow up. Tensions were high and no one needed a family spat at the moment.

"Its when someone stop talking to you and ignores you for no reason" his brother revealed explaining the term to his parents. They both ahh'd in realisation but were still a little tense. So his younger brother spoke up deciding to try and be more supportive to him. And henry was thankful.

"Well how about you tell us about her henry. What's you lady freind like? What does she do?" henry quickly grinned forgetting the irritation. His family watched the sudden change as henry got the chance to boast about the woman who had caught his fancy. It was sobering to see, he was glowing with pride and excitement, overjoyed from just thinking about this mystery girl.

"She's just? God where do I start? Shes amazing and funny and wholesome... She doesn't live too far away- Shes pretty much on my doorstep! Shes really funny and nice we talk everyday and have soo much in common its amazing we like the same music and tv and just- everything! Its like talking to a female version of myself! And Shes a fan too" his family all seemed to warm to the idea of this woman until his final remark. Everyone paused. And so did he, what was so wrong about her being a fan? Why was that a red flag for them and not him?

"A fan? Henry... are you sure she doesn't know? If she's a fan she might know and be... making her answers more favourable" henry bristled at that and visibly leaned back brows furrowed and eyes glowing, showing as much anger as he dared show his mother who had spoken out against you.

"What? No! No she doesn't mum she hasn't got a clue- Shes not a fan of mine per say but? She likes my work, she's a huge lover of DC and fantasy so has seen the Witcher and she loved it! Shes really just like me! Is that really hard to believe? That there are women like me? That enjoy the same things?" what had started as a panicked explination quickly became heated and sour. His words slowly becoming uncharacteristically venomous. But Marie Ann new it was just him getting defensive, he was frightened. He had this silly belief he was an abnormality, that his interests will make him forever alone. The thing that did stand out was just how defensive he was about you. A woman he'd probably not even met yet, someone he was only chatting to. It wasn't like henry to take to someone soo quickly. It made her hopeful, that he really had found someone, found his soulmate. But she was a mother and couldn't help worry over him, no matter how old or huge her boys got they were just that. Her boys. And she will always feel the need to look after them.

"Henry please don't get angry, I didn't mean to upset you but... I worry" she said slowly trying to calm him before he got himself into a tizzy. She could see much more then he wanted her too. And right now he was anxious, probably questioning himself over this woman and the way he was approaching her. She could only hope her son was right and had covered his ass and that this woman was as understanding as he said. Otherwise henry was about to get a wakeup call like never before. It wasn't everyday a well known actor fakes a dating profile. It'd be a media shitstorm that he may not recover from.

"I.. sorry I didn't mean to- y/n isn't like that I... I just know alright she isn't after anything" henry apologized smoothing back his hair taking a huge breath and leant back once more relaxing.

"So why don't you tell us a little more about her son? You've been speaking for a week so must know a little more then her name and were she lives?" she said moving on wanting to coax more information about the woman.

"Well she has her own successful business that caters to dogs, walking, grooming and rehoming and is a kc registered breeder. Shes thirty years old and... Absolutely stunning- and no she hasn't filtered any photos either...wait here! See?! Isn't she beautiful?" Henry gushed quickly bringing up your profile picture he had saved on his phone and holding the phone to the camera. He heard a few compliments but could still see the worry in his family. He understood but he just new. He new that you were real, that you were honest and everything you said you were. You were blunt and didn't have time for games, you said life's too short for that crap. And he agreed.

"You have a photo saved already?" henry faltered at the question that had followed a round of compliments and quickly pulled his phone back flushing embarrassed he hadn't even thought of how that would look

"I.. w-well yeah... I'm gonna ask for her number soon and want a photo for my phone... We decided to stick to messaging for a while first and" he tried desperately to dig himself out of the hole he'd just unceremoniously swan dived into. But his brothers burst into laughter making whipping motions making him flush and shrink further. They were definetly going to busting his balls for this. But with a quick shake of his head he continued to gush about you wanting to side step this whole premature photo saving incident.

"she doesn't have Instagram or snapchat... she's just... I can't explain it she's just funny and sweet and genuine... I really like her.. I could easily fall for her" silence reigned after his admission and everyone saw just how serious and devoted henry was to trying to make this relationship work. His mum nodded with a smile, this was just a watch and wait scenario. This woman would either make or break her son, and all she could do was hope to god it was the former.

"Okay then love. I'm happy for you henry just be careful okay?" she finally drew the curtain on the subject and everyone sighed in relief.

"I will, I promise but you have nothing to worry about, I just wanted to let you guys know that i might have someone for you to meet in a few months" henry said eagerly, like a small boy waiting on Christmas eve. He was full of life and enthusiasm. It was nice to see this side to him again, she'd dare say he was well on his way to being loved up! Smitten.

"And we look forward to it henry, but take your time. There's no rush just enjoy yourself" one of his brothers spoke up jumping in on the conversation wanting to make it clear they all had his back whether this ended good or bad. For now they were happy for him.

"I will, we decided were wont meet for a while and just see how things go for the time being but... I have a good feeling, she's everything I've been looking for I'm really excited" henry preened trying to pace himself, he didn't need to be daydreaming in a family face time. Luckily he was pulled from the edge of his own fantasies by another question.

"You said she had a company?"

"Yeah here I'll send you the link its called Puptown! She's actually handled Kal a few times, I send him there for his nails and teeth" henry said quickly sending the link to his brother. He wasn't stupid they were going to look you up, they were worried. He might aswell sent them the link. There was a tiny bio on there of you- the owner on the staff page that had all the staffs qualifications and roles on there.

You moved through the groom room Amii was curled up under your desk fast asleep as you began taking a stock list. Recently you'd been getting more and more white dogs in for their groom so needed to top up on the bright white shampoo and it was tick season soon so had to double check you had all the tick removal forceps, and ear powder- lots of ear powder the poodle clients had doubled over lock down after all the new puppies bought in lockdown. Every dog deserves a professional groom. But poodles needed them.

"hey boss! You doing another check?" Mandy called as she hoisted a tiny black poem into the bath. Bella a regular and very few people could actually groom her out of the five staff only two of you dared to try. And you didn't blame them this dog was a tiny savage, but the trick was not to show fear.  

"yeah, trying to prepare for summer already, you know i think this will be our busiest yet especially with lord whiskey." you muttered nibbling the pen and moving a few bottles about. Flea treatment and some dry skin conditioner were quickly added to your growing list.

"lord whiskey?" Mandy asked louder over the sound of the shower instantly Bella began snarling like the hell demon she was. On walks and about the place she was a little soppy loving lap pup, but when it came to bath time? Different dog. You cant help thinking she had a bad experiance before she came here. You sighed and placed the pad and pen down standing along side the bathe and began petting the tiny dog.

"yeah they are the vet clinic for lower incomes... They want to set up a new clinic and have reached out" you explained you had to admit the request came out of the blue and you hadn't had chance to tell everyone yet. The staff meeting was on Friday.

"that would be good!" she said slowly wetting the snarling prom that was trying her absolute hardest to frighten you both off. But alas she was no great wolf, but a teeny cute little raging fluff nugget, and to her utter dispair neither you or Mandy found her scary at all. Even if she was trying to foam at the mouth.

"yeah that's what I thought, having a vet on site... We're still talking but if everything goes acording to plane we will have the mobile vet out front while setting up the small clinic... I was thinking in the old groom rooms? They had water and electricity already and its a littl out of the way so the unwell puppets can be separate from the healthy customers" you shrugged moving around Mandy to help tend to your most vocal customer.

"so business will be booming?" Mandy said moving to rinse underneath the small feral beast. You giggled and stood Bella on her back legs as she seethed but in between her savagery she was actually licking at you, showing a hint of the sweet girl she really was. You pet her praising her promising chicken treats and snuggles afterwards. You might even pop Amii in with the others in the small day care pen. Bella liked laying on her using the huge dog as a fluffy bed.

"yes hopefully, i mean were not taking anything for them, they are a charity but hopefully we will get a few visits in the shop? And the more people know about us the more likely they are to use us!" you said you had been weighing up the pros and cons about the new venture. More people visiting the premises, more footfall in the shop and hopefully you can draw enough people to have a little pet café. Your business was right on the edge of the huge woodland park you'd always wanted a small café that serves both animals and people you want a little empire to become a franchise company and give the little guys a chance.

"And how about you? Any luck on the online dating front?" she asked with a small smile. You sighed you half regretted telling her about it. Mandy has been with you since the beginning, she was your first employee and most trusted freind. And she has been hounding you about your love life for a while now. She wants you to take a step back from Puptown and find some time for yourself, and now that the business was established and ticking over nicely it was the time to do it.

"Ooo! Oh my god your blushing!? Bitch spill!" she squealed excited as you flushed and looked away not answering her. And by doing so answering her at the same time.

"I'm talking to someone~ Hank.. He is... Funny and charming we've been chatting each night for about a week" you revealed quietly making her beam at you. Thankfully Bella chose that moment to make a mad dive over your shoulder but you managed to catch her and pop her back into the tub.

"ooo yes get in girl, you have been pouring too much into this company! Its about damn time you focused on yourself" sandy began as she washed Bella lathering the pup with a rather expensive de-sheading anti tangle shampoo.

"Please don't start, I'm doing it now and that's what matters. He is... He messaged me first and things are going good and that's where I'm going to leave it okay? I will update you as we go... I promise" you said releasing the now wet pup as Mandy began rinsing her down. You stepped back to the shelves full of half empty bottles of product. needing to change the topic to avoid daydreaming and fucking up your orders. As great as the wholesaler was this was still expensive stuff and you didn't want to unbalance the books and get more then you needed.

"Oh Bella?~ baby girl its so bad isn't it? Being brushed and washed and massaged? Then getting yourself a blow out and having a nap in the nice cosy play room?" you called over your shoulder condescendingly at the pup who was still snarling out her displeasure. She really was a little brat in the bath.

Another week passed and you were lazing around the house having a duvet day, snuggled in bed with Amii on your lap. Normally your days off were all housework and finalizing orders or paper work but this week was different. With lord whiskey agreeing to taking the old groom room you decided to finally get an extra set of hands in management to take care of paperwork. It was strange at first but worth it. You now hade someone else to rely on, not that you didn't have managers to help out before but now you had a full time employee that's whole role was to take care of the business side and alleviate the pressure. So instead of the normal made rushes and mountain of paperwork you were in bed chatting away with henry.

He had just finished his work out and was relaxing, having a cool down before having yet another painfully boring sounding meeting with his own bosses. You sympathised. Practical work was the bomb! But the theory and paperwork kicked everyones asses. Risk assessments can eat shit! I'm a person and can asses the risk and decided to do it, why answer to a tick box system? But then again everything needed a tick in a box nowadays. You shuffled about grunting as Amii played dead on your lap so you couldn't move her from the comfy slump she was in over your thighs pinning you down.

'Soo you said you game?'  was the message that changed the subject, thankfully choosing to move on from speaking about work.

'God yes, when I can'

'What do you play? Sims and stuff?'

'depends if I'm on pc or xbox I'm more into fantasy and historic rpgs, but if I'm on my switch its little farming sims sometimes I branch out to things like shooters but not often, I like the big immersive fantasies!'

'So you really do mix and match are you playing anything atm?'

'I'm doing a re-run of skyrim with a load of mods just to spice things up. And just restarted Witcher wild hunt again'

'You like Witcher?'

'I adore it, Witcher skyrim and dragon age are my all time favourites, do you? Sorry I realise I'm just takeing over, I just get excited, I never really talk about this stuff 😅😅'

'No, no its fine I'm the same, I never really get to geek out anymore with work and stuff. I'm happy to have the chance, and I do love the Witcher too fantasy is my thing😄' henry paused for a moment. Should he? I mean you just said you were replaying it... Would it be big headed? To ask what you thought of the show? Of his performance... I mean it'd be an unbiased view, you wasn't going to try and butter him up you still didn't know it was him.

'So you've watched the show on Netflix I presume?' he typed and pressed send quickly before he lost his nerve.

'Absolutly, I binge watched it a few times.😅'

'You liked it? I know a few people didn't' henry couldn't help but dig a little deeper, he desperately wanted you to have enjoyed it.

'I loved it, but I think it was easier for me to watch bc I new what was roughly going on before hand. Most people that struggled thought it was going to be an easy watch? Like got'

'Oh come on, there must be something you didn't like?🤔🤔'

'😞okay you got me, I was a tad disappointed with geralts eyes you can do the toxic eyes and cat eye potion at least give me a teeny cat eye just a smidge🤏🥺'

'Yes I see what you mean, their could have been a little frame of it but there are always sacrifices when going from books to the big screen 😅'

'But henry's portrayal more then made up for it! That man was on point! I was so happy when they anounced it was him playing Geralt there was no way he was going to fuck it up!' henry stopped breathing. You liked it? You actually like him playing Geralt? His heart swelled and he laughed out loud for some reason you enjoying his work just... It meant the world to him! He was over the moon. Quickly his attention was drawn to his tablet again as another message pinged on screen.

'And I have a little fan theory over the whole eye issue😏'

'Hit me with it I'm all ears'

'Geralt has complete control of his eyes right? And is a softy deep down so my idea was he is always holding his pupils open so he doesn't scare anyone'

'🧐that is brilliant! It makes so much sense! 🥰🥰 its also nice to know I have a little conspiracy fangirl on my hands😁'  henry frowned heart clenching as you went quiet, he waited and waited minuets seemed like hours. His mind immediately jump to conclusions terrified you had caught him, that you'd figured out just who you were speaking to. Sweat formed on his brow as he frowned praying he hadn't got a little to close to home and given himself away. Then the dots appeared. You were typing.

'So I was wondering I know we agreed not to at first but since we've chatting every night I thought we could maybe exchange numbers? Only if you want to! No pressure. I'm just excited' henry slumped, melting into his seat. Thank fuck for that! His relief quickly became excitement at the prospect of hearing you! Actually speaking to you properly having an actual phone call? Fuck yes!

'😊😊I was actually trying to find the time to mention it myself, i know its only been three weeks but it feels much longer.'

'Omg thank god! I thought you would think i was rushing you😅here xxx xxxx xxxx' henry was quick to pull out his phone and type the number in, not wasting any time in creating your contact info into his phone book. And whislt doing that also replied to you putting you at ease.

'No not at all, I'm excited I cant wait to hear you🥰'

'Oh god don't build your hopes to high I don't have the most attractive voice it may be the deal breaker😅'

'I doubt that anything could put me off you love, your gorgeous, smart, funny, kind everything I could of dreamed of and soo much more'

'I'm glad its not only me Hank, I have to say I was frightened by how quickly we have become friends, but I suppose it makes sense we are two peas in a pod' henry grinned reading the message and nodded to himself pressing the small green call button and held the phone to his ear feeling confident as he re-read your last message.

You hummed nibbling your lip, chewing it nervously after giving out your number. You couldn't help your mind dredging up all the horror stories of Ted bundy-esque creepy ass psycho killers, luring in prey on the internet... Fuck you were a bigger girl so easy to sweet talk. You whined and snuggled into the massive furry lump on your lap, lacing your fingers into the dogs thick fur. Petting her as your over active imagination conjured scenario's that could end up with you in a eight foot hole in someone's basement ,being told to 'put the lotion in the basket'. Jesus Christ. But it was fine right? He wasn't weirded out or anything? He seemed happy. You were sensible, or at least you thought you were.

You yipped at your phone suddenly vibrated in your hand, you almost threw it across the room. The screen lit up with 'unknown number' you swallowed eyeing the device then nodded answering the call heart beat thundering in your chest your breath picked up you made to speak but couldn't quite make sounds, unable to force the words to roll off your tongue. There was a deep chuckle, gorgeas and rumbling even if it was quiet.

"You have no reason to be frightened darling I'm just as eager to move on" you gasped as the thick voice spoke in slow syllables, calling you by the nick name he had taken to calling you. You'd asked a few girls at work about it, worried things were going to fast. But they had calmed you down saying it was his way of avoiding being freind zoned. You had to admit the cute little names always made you grin and blush, but this? God this was better then anything! His low timber and slightly more eloquent accent uttering the name sent a shiver up your spine.

A surprizing reaction in all honesty, you'd never really thought about voices much, never had a voice kink or really thought anyone could have an attractive voice. Well not a real voice anyway, sometimes characters on tv with low raspy voices got you going Geralt and Alcide to name a few. He almost sounded like the former if you thought about it... Just more refined? A regal soft lilt.  It was definetly a voice you could listen to all day, this man could read you a bloody take away menu and you wouldn't even gruff at the extortionate prices. You wet your lips and dug your fingers into the warm dog in your lap breathing deep, filling your lungs with air trying to ease yourself and draw in some courage.

"O-oh your? Really there? Really.. real?" you stuttered slowly. You chided yourself for sounding so silly, so childish. But you couldn't help it you felt completely unprepared. Which irritated you because it was you who'd offered your number, what were you expecting him to do with it? Use carrier pigeon? Of course he was going to call you.

"I'm most definitely real love" he spoke again with a small chuckle, he was clearly amused by your flustered question. You blushed and squirmed on your seat trying to breath quietly, you didn't want him to hear just how on edge you were.

"Oh gosh that's.. wow I cant even, I don't know what to say" you huffed trying to think of something- anything else you could focus on rather then the absolute sex that was his voice, then he spoke once more

"Now, now don't be shy love, I want to hear you, your voice is just as I thought it'd be" henry tried encouraging you wanting to hear you and revel in your sweet voice, wanting to commit it to memory.

"Oh? And what's that then?" you asked trying to be playfull but in all honesty you wasn't hitting the mark, you were to nervous. You'd never really thought about your voice, was it attractive? Or too high? Deep? I mean you were normal, you spoke normal and if anything sounded common.

"Pure and delicate, playful and charming all in one just like the woman it belongs to" henry's breathing hitched as you giggled. The sweet tinkling laugher warmed his heart and made him huff out a chuckle himself. He was so happy he could have cried. It was just so overwhelming to hear you finally, to put a voice to the amazing woman he was slowly falling inlove with. He sometimes grew wary thinking you were too good to be true, that you were a catfish yourself. But here and now he knew. You were as real as him and all it did was solidify his resolve, he was doing the right thing. He was falling for a genuine woman. A real woman with no strings attached, and with any luck you were feeling the same.

"well I think I just found my mans flaw~" you giggled once more blushing under the weight of all the compliments. He was really smooth, smoother then you'd thought and that was saying something.

"really darling? Care to enlighten me?" he quipped playfully you usual banter and teasing between you both flowing just as effortlessly as it had when messaging each other.

"your clearly deaf! Well have no fear, i will talk a little louder and learn some sign language for you~" you laughed out loud he joined you low echoing chuckles that sounded as if they came from a deep wide chest. It was enough to drive you mad with lust, but that may be the new found voice kink brewing.

"well its nice to know you are so committed to your man and his disability love" suddenly you froze and trembled panic and anxiety washed over you clogging  your wind pipe at his words... Fuck!

"oh god- no I? Your not really deaf are you? I'm sorry I didn't mean to make fun-" you began apologizing not quite picking up on his sarcasm. Henry was quick to cut you off and stop your guilty rambling.

"No love I'm not deaf I was just pulling your leg" his voice was strained as if he was trying not to laugh at you, but you couldn't really say anything. You were the one nervously crack jokes then immediately trying to take them back. Stumbling your wat through the very first real conversation with a man you were crushing on. God you were such a dweeb!

"oh Jesus you scared the crap out of me" you heaved a sigh wanting to bury yourself into the covers and hide despite knowing he couldn't see your glowing face.

"I apologize darling, I have only the purest of intentions... Well maybe not that pure~ but I don't want to scare you" he grinned when you gasped at his little flirtatious comment. And he wasn't kidding, he found you incredibly attractive and wanted to do all manner of very filthy things with you. It didn't help when you were sending him photos of you drenched nipples hard and drawing him in like a moth to a flame. You probably hadn't even noticed that and he was thankfull for it because you wouldn't have sent it otherwise. It was his favourite photo, apparantly it had been a husky escape from the bath as you switched his lead to another hook.

"your fine, I'm just a little nervous is all" you huffed finally somehow managing to sort yourself out and think clearly overcoming your excitement and nerves.

"I understand but just remember its just me love. So have anything else planned for today?" henry hummed sweetly before giving you a chance to change the topic, you'd never know it was because he was barely holding himself together. He was almost bursting at the seams wanted to laugh and cry and shout all at once. He was completely overwhelmed with joy and relief and wanted to listen to you as much as he possibly could.

Both you and henry then began the nightly ritual of phone calls and texted all day. He even had a new nick name. Puppy. And he couldn't be more thrilled you'd said it was because he made tiny cute puppy whines when you teased him. But he didn't care, he would happily be your puppy anyday!

The weeks became one month, then two and before you knew it you were one week shy of three months. And that was when it happened. Those fateful words left his mouth as he spoke to you just before bed. He had asked to meet, he was certain and confident he wanted to meet you and take this further, and he hadn't really planned to ask it just happened.

"So your really letting lord whiskey in your old groom space? That's incredible, I'm so proud of you for letting them in love. It says volumes for you and your business, that its not all profit driven" henry spoke down the phone as he stirred his tea getting ready to go up to bed.

"I mean it just seems right... No matter the income everyone should be able to get medical care for their animals. And I'd be lying if I didn't hope some people will come into the shop or realise that we are here and come back for our facilities." he smiled at that. You wasn't just trying to make a great profitable business, you cared and wanted to give everyone a reasonably priced alternative to pooch care. And he was right behind you, he loved that you were trying to give owners the chance to spoil their fur babies without breaking the bank. In slashing your prices you'd attracted more customers and been making a great profit, so much so that you could afford to just give away your old groom rooms to the charity for free.

"shop? You have a shop?" he pondered padding about the kitchen giving Kal his nightly biscuit treat and motioned for him to take it upstairs. Which he didn't need to do, Kal new the jig and was already carrying the treat to the stairs.

"yeah it opened last year? The year before maybe? Its small but here with food and treats a few toys and leads... I try to use smaller businesses the brands that you wont see in the bigger shops" you said slowly and he heard a small yawn and rustle of paper. You had said you were packing up and heading to bed for the night soon.

"I may have to pop over with the bear~" he teased coyly humming to himself as he sipped his tea.

"pop over? I.. Well you could I suppose?" you hummed quietly, henrys eyes almost popped out of his head were you inviting him to ask you out? He coughed quickly trying not to choke on the mouthful of tea and then rocked his head from side to side. I mean he could come over and see you.

"I'm only ten minuet's away darling, Kensington... I've actually used your grooming service once or twice getting the bears nails and teeth done"

"oh?! I didn't know that." you said trying to picture the owners of the akita you saw, but honestly? You had soo many customers now it was hard remembering everyone, that and you wasn't really front of house now, you had more and more to deal with back of house, even with the new manager.

"well you do now sweetheart... So? Do you want to meet up tomorrow?" he asked placing his tea down in favour of crossing his fingers hoping he had read your signals right.

"Yeah of course I'm covering for walking duty tomorrow... So I can't really do anything in the morning or early afternoon" henry fist pumped and grinned faking a silent shout of victory as he managed to wrangle a date.

"That's fantastic actually... I could meet you in the park? I'll bring the bear with me and we could walk the dogs and grab a coffee or something?" he said somehow managing to quell his excitement enough to arrange the date properly, placeing a hand on his heart as it beat wildly. The realisation that he could see you- meet you face to face!

"Yeah that sounds like a brilliant idea, will noon be alright? That's when we do a switch over and go back to feed the dogs in day care so I'll have an hour lunch break" you said stuttering a little when it began to sink in that this was happening!

"Its a date I will see you tomorrow at noon love" Henry anounced eagerly suddenly tomorrow couldn't come soon enough!

"See you then puppy, good night sweet dreams" you said needing to hang up and squeal into a pillow or something.

"sweet dreams love" as soon as he hung up he was already scrolling his phone selecting the number he was after and called in a tizzy.

"Piers?! Piers! I'm? Oh god- were meeting tomorrow and fuck- I'm freaking out already! What do I say? What should I wear- kal's coming too do I put his halti on or just his collar- fuck I don't know what to do!? Please help!" he yelped down the phone to the unsuspecting man drawing a deep sigh from him before he began talking him down.

#rpf #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill X Y/n #henry cavill fluff

[celestialgaea]

hello, noticed ur requests r open! is it okay if I could ask for a fic of Ezio/F!Reader with the theme of jealousy coming from Ezio? thank you if you accept my request! your works are amazing!

I have been wanting to fulfill this request for such a long time but I went through quite a rough period and I always felt the guilt of letting you wait linger upon me. I am so sorry for letting you wait. I have not forgotten you, your request was always in the back of my mind and I'm grateful for finally being able to write again!

I hope you enjoy the fanfiction!

(Request) Ezio Auditore x F!Reader // Jealousy

Warnings: (slight) mature content

Pairings: Ezio Auditore x (Female) Reader

summary: You are Leonardo's apprentice and have gotten the assignment to draw the naked male body from different perspectives. But when Ezio is paying a visit to Leonardo he doesn't seem very delighted with his lover drawing another man's private part.

You had underestimated the assignment. When Leonardo first told you about drawing a naked man you hadn't perceived the false comfort of your own assurance, who convinced you into thinking that seeing a fully bare stranger is nothing but the nature of a human being, as an illusion. Until the horrific scene of the young male, probably in his early twenties, slowly discarding himself off his clothes manifested itself behind a wooden changing screen.

Your mind kept replaying the former scene of the young male talking in slight shock to your maestro about how the apprentice was a women. A women that would create an image of his private part underneath the blunt end of her charcoal stick. During the open conversation, as the man was not ashamed of his shock whose cause leant more towards the fear of visible arousal than the mysogenistic side, his face and neck began to change into a more reddish skintone.

'Y/N,' Leonardo whispered, pointing towards his chest. 'Cover a bit of your chest, Ragazza. The poor man is quite...weak. I don't want you to get horrified.' You scoffed as you pulled up the fabric of the nightgown underneath your dress. 'Forgive me, maestro, for showing fertility.' You mocked. Leonardo shook his head, as if he were trying to remove his excessive thoughts to make more room for your shameless remarks. 'Ragazza, you know that I have no problem with your breasts, and i'm sure you know why, But this kid is as mature as the mosquitos that flied above Cleopatra's head during a scorching summer night. Be prepared that his "pride" might show itself."

Your heart began beating faster at just the mere thought of it, and the rustles of the male's fabric rubbing against each other as they fell onto the ground, entangled into one big flood of linen and leather, made his presence very clear and thus brought tension in the air that encircled you. 'Giovanni, Dannazione, are you almost done, boy? You're taking too long!' 'Maestro, no!' You whispered as annoyance took a hold of your voice. 'Ragazza, time is precious. And in these times of uncertainty I cannot lose any more.' And with that he turned his back to you and walked towards his desk not far away from your seat. You noticed how Leonardo's slouch has grown heavier over the past months, and his neck was more bent, as if it was bowing to his brain; the holder of his talent and geniusness.

Even though your eyes kept flickering through the various parchments filled with unfinished sketches and scrabbles you were still able to see the faint and disorted sillhouette of Giovanni walking from behind the changing screen towards the small wooden stage in front of you. His feet seemed humid as they loosened themselves from the floor with a sound similar to wallpaper being pulled away from a tacky wall. The boy slowly uncovered his private part, exposing a dark bush of intertwined curls, but when a knock on the door disturbed him he quickly covered himself again as the door was getting pierced by his anxious eyes. You regretted looking at it.

'Maestro, who is visiting?' You heard the sighs of parchment before Leonardo scurried towards the door.

'Ah. It's good to see you my friend!'

'It's good to see you too, mio amico.' The sonorous voice whose melodious words and promiscues groans swiftly danced towards you to embrace you in its tenderness was only able to come from one person only; Ezio Auditore. And it seemed that the young man wasn't fond of Ezio's presence.

'Maestro, I thought no one was allowed to disturb?' Giovanni's voice was a batter of shame and growing annoyance as he stood there with only his hands to cover his private part. Ezio glared at you. He saw you, he observed you, viewed you with spurned astonisment and the displeased look in his eyes made you grasp onto the understandment of why he was as fearsome as he was charming.

'I am unsure wether to turn to leonardo or you for an explanation, mia cara.' Leonardo had his hands up, almost touching Ezio's chest. 'Ezio, I have given her the assignment to draw a naked man.' 'Then why didn't you ask to draw me in nudity? There would be more flesh to capture than what that boy beholds.' Ezio surrenered himself uncontrollably to his impulses and attacked the poor Giovanni with his spit-filled words . 'Ezio, leave the boy out of this! He hasn't done anything and secondly; do not begin with the "Then why didn't you ask me", Because you know how scheduled you are. This is merely for educational reasons.' It felt sinful to get enraged with Ezio, but he had never behaved this attacking towards an innocent man. Along with his birth came his short temperance and even during the scorching season of maturing the searings left by his short temperance refused to heal.

'Educational purposes?' Ezio pulled at the leather skin of his gloves on top of his index finger as if he was planning on slapping the vulnurable model with it. 'Since when did looking at a cazzo become an educational enlightment?' The gloves were put on the table -Thank the Lord- together with his defected hidden blade. Ezio walked, no, he stomped towards a wooden chair that stood desolated in a corner collecting the flying dust and bits of dried paint that fell of a "failed", as the old man is still a perfectionist, da Vinci painting that towered above the chair.

Ezio let the chair ballance on its two front legs and allowed his dissatisfaction to guide his hand as it smacked the pieces of paint and dust particles off of its sitting surface. And how surprisingly odd it may seemed, you felt the muscles around your lower stomach contract in an ebb and flow that left trails along the flesh of your womanhood. He was angry, and so were you, and yet you felt aroused by him just uttering his jealousy to a lonely and motionless chair. For a few seconds you visualized those same rough hands whispering against the surrface of your weeping arse before turning them into a lovely shade of red. Ezio carried the chair and let its feet hit the ground next to you.

'Ezio, what are you intending to do?'

'Accompanying you.'

Oh, how he liked blending himself within the schemes of colours so his robes of red and white were the most appealing to look at.

'I do not need company. I'm doing very well on my own.' Ezio's fingers ran along your clothed thigh and gripped it sturdily. The lack of shame was transparant on him, removing the presence of Leonardo and Giovanni out of his realm of reality, as the humid warmth of his breath hugged your ear lobe.

'Ragazza, stop being hard-headed. I'm surprised that the boy is able to remain his excitement in custody. When I was his age,' 'Your cazzo had impregnated almost half of Firenze's youth. Not everyone is as rebellious as you were.' To your surprise, Ezio had remained silent. It seemed as though the sudden flare up of the middle aged consciousness had possessed him again and the teasing hand was removed from your thigh to fill in his crossed arms. His boyish teases were vanished. The man in his mid forties had appeared again; the outer corner of his eyes were folded into deepened curtains, the corners of his mouth were surrounded by the crescent-shaped smile lines which vitalized the apples of his cheek and if you looked at it with a certain view, not through the eyes of a classical artist, but through the eyes of a daydreamer, a madman, or a child you could play with the lines and follow it until his cheek slowly transfomed into a smooth segment of a rock being caressed by the spirals and curls of waves or maybe strands of hairs or whatever can be curly and spirally. Ezio grunted, focusing on the model, especially his croth area.

'Come one,' Ezio leant in to whisper in your ear, again.

'My cazzo is way more appealing to look at than his.'

'Ezio!'

#older ezio x reader #older ezio auditore #ezio auditore fanfiction #ac 2 fanfiction #ac 2 #assassins creed brotherhood #ac ii #ezio auditore da firenze

[intheticklecloset]

My Hero Academia Sentence Starters #41-50

A collection of the MHA sentence starters I’ve done, compiled for the sake of ease. These are all stand-alone stories.

~~~

41) Lee Kaminari, Ler Ojiro

“And where are you going?” Ojiro wrapped his tail around Kaminari’s waist, dragging him back to his chest, reaching to scribble in his exposed underarms. “I didn’t say you could leave yet.”

Kaminari squealed. The only reason he didn’t double over was because of Ojiro’s tail around him, but he still wobbled on his knees a little and tried to push the extra limb away, giggling and wiggling all the while. “Nehehehehehehe! No, Ojiro, stahahahahap!”

Ojiro grabbed his wrists and held them firmly while maneuvering his tail to brush lightly along Kami’s stomach and sides. The blonde burst into a fresh round of giggles at the contact. “You can’t walk away from me before I’m done with you, sparky.”

“I’m sohohorry!” Kami pleaded. “Let me gohohohohoho!”

“Nope. Now you face my wrath.” Ojiro kissed the back of his neck gently, knowing the feather light sensation would drive his boyfriend crazy. “My tickly wrath~”

Kaminari gave up the fight and simply giggled hysterically, squirming in Ojiro’s strong grip, his body lighting up with ticklish shock after ticklish shock as that soft tail dragged its way up and down each of his sides, fluttering in his underarms, catching the sliver of bare skin where his tank top had ridden up.

Ojiro chuckled at the sudden lack of protesting. “You like it, Denks?”

“Shuhuhuhuhut up…”

“How rude.” The tail hero’s grip tightened as he let his tail drift down to the hem of Kami’s shorts. “But I don’t mind tickling you into submission, if that’s what you want.”

Kami’s heartrate sped up ten times over. “No! Plehehehehease, not thehehehere!”

But the tail was already brushing, already tickling, already drawing out his most genuine laughter. Ojiro smirked. “Too late~”

*

42) Lee Shinsou, Ler Deku

“You’re not going anywhere,” Deku murmured softly, leaning over Shinsou’s trapped form beneath him with an easy smirk. “I’ve got you right where I want you.”

Shinsou quirked a brow at him, smiling to cover up the frantic racing of his heart. “Do you, now?”

Deku – thinking the smile was a challenge – didn’t reply. Instead, he gripped Shinsou’s wrists tighter and began gently kissing along his neck.

Shinsou gasped, trying to curl up but only succeeding in brushing his knees against Deku’s back. “N-Nohohohoho, wahahahait, please – thahahat tickles!”

Again, no reply.

“Plehehehehease, Midoriya!”

Deku pressed his lips to the shell of his left ear, and a squeal broke free from Shinsou before even he had a chance to register it.

“Ehehehehahahahahaha! Nohohohohohoho!”

“You’ve got ticklish ears?” Deku teased, kissing the lobe. “That’s so cute~”

“Plehehehehease, stohohohohop!” Shinsou begged through his unstoppable giggles, kicking his legs in the air behind Deku. “I cahahahahan’t – I can’t tahahahahake it – please!”

“Really ticklish, huh?” Deku’s voice was still teasing, but he stopped, grinning down at the purple-haired boy’s now flushed pink cheeks and disheveled look. “That’s adorable.”

Shinsou averted his eyes. “It’s not.”

“Of course it is—”

Shinsou’s uncertain gaze suddenly became a confident smirk. He gently pushed the now controlled Deku away and rolled him over so their positions were reversed, then let him go, giving his boyfriend the chance to register and understand what had happened.

Deku’s eyes widened.

“So,” said Shinsou, leaning down so their noses were practically touching. “What was that about having me right where you wanted me?”

*

43) Lee Deku, Ler Shinsou

“I’m not sulking!”

“You sure?”

“I’m not!”

“Okay.” Shinsou dragged a fingernail down Deku’s bare sole, watching as the green-haired boy dissolved into giggles at the light touch. Shinsou then scribbled all five fingers across the arch and up to his toes. “Well, you’re definitely not now, are you?”

“I wahahahahasn’t to begihihihin with!”

“Oh? So I guess being pouty all day because I won that Mario Kart grand prix this morning wasn’t sulking?”

“Nohohohohoho! Y-Yohohohou sahahahaid yourself it was pohohohohouting!” Deku tried to tug his foot away, but Shinsou only held him tighter and kept scribbling. “Plehehehease!”

“Ah, yes. Pouting. I suppose I did say that.” Shinsou then switched tactics, grabbing Deku’s foot with one hand and scribbling his fingers along his ankle with the other. “All right, so you’ve been pouting all day. Either way I’m here to put an end to it.”

“By tihihihihihickling me?!”

“Obviously. How else would I do it?”

“Thehehehere are other wahahahahays!”

“Yeah?” Shinsou shot him a suggestive smile. “Have any ideas?”

“M-Maybe…a few?” Deku stammered when the tickling came to an abrupt stop, followed by Shinsou leaving his feet alone to crawl up to his upper half.

“Like what?”

Deku flushed dark red. “Y-You know…things…”

Shinsou smiled, leaning down to kiss him, letting him think he was safe for all of five seconds before Deku wrenched his mouth away and shrieked, laughter exploding from him. “NAHAHAHAHA HITOSHI NOHOHOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!”

Shinsou kissed him again, muffling his laughter, grinning as he kneaded his thumbs into Deku’s hip bones. “Nah,” he mused, nibbling on his neck as well, making Deku give up the fight and surrender to his laughter completely. “I’d rather keep tickling you.”

*

44) Lee Bakugou, Ler Todoroki

“Did…did you seriously eat my cereal, of all things?” Todoroki asked incredulously, looking over at his boyfriend, who lounged lazily on the couch in the next room over.

Bakugou didn’t reply right away. “Uhh…no?”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I didn’t know it was your cereal,” the blonde protested, turning to face him as well. “I thought it was ours. You know, to share?”

Todoroki set down the now almost-empty cereal box and entered the living room. “Apparently I need to just keep buying that chocolate churro stuff you can’t stand. That way I’m guaranteed not to have the sanctity of my breakfast violated.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “Chill. Just write your name on the box next time and I’ll leave it alone.”

“Will you?”

“Yes.”

Todoroki plopped down on the couch next to him, grabbing his side. “Will you really?”

“Y-Yehehes!” Bakugou sputtered out a giggle, reaching to push him away, but Todoroki quickly snatched both of his wrists and held them while he dug into the blonde’s belly button under his t-shirt. “Agh – ahahahahaha! Stahahahahap!”

“Quit stealing my cereal,” Todoroki half-demanded, half-teased, grinning at how his normally grumpy partner couldn’t help but smile and giggle now. “Or next time, I’ll have to tickle you to death for it.”

“S-Stohohop! Todoroki!” Bakugou knew his face was turning pink from all the giggling, but he didn’t entirely care. This was his boyfriend, after all. “Plehehehease, Shoto!”

Todoroki smiled. “Come on, Katsuki. You know you love being tickled here.”

“T-Thahahat’s not the pohohohoint-!”

“Fine.” Todoroki finally stopped, releasing his wrists before leaning down to kiss him. “But I’m serious. Quit stealing my cereal.”

*

45) Lee Aoyama, Lers Kirishima and Todoroki

“You’re acting really weird,” Kirishima hummed, watching Aoyama closely.

The blonde looked offended. “What? I am not.”

“Why do you keep stretching like that, then? You know we can see your stomach every time you do.”

“And my stomach is such a horrible thing to see.”

“No, but it’s going to tempt some people in the room.” Kiri glanced meaningfully over at Todoroki, who – sure enough – was staring at Aoyama’s midsection with a tiny blush.

“No, I…I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, turning back to his manga. “Just fine.”

Kiri rolled his eyes knowingly. Seeing an open ticklish spot like that was like candy to Todoroki, but the poor guy had too much self-control to act on his urge to do anything about it without blatant permission. So Kiri decided it was time to take matters into his own hands.

The next time Aoyama stretched like that, Kiri leapt out of his seat and hooked his arms under Aoyama’s underarms, keeping him trapped. “Here you go, Todo – he’s all yours!”

Todoroki glanced up, saw the now helpless Aoyama, and swallowed. His heart raced. He could see a sliver of the blonde’s tummy, and it was really tempting…

“Well…all right,” he said at last, getting to his feet. The only thing that might have stopped him now was Aoyama’s protests, but surprisingly, the blonde didn’t say a word. He merely watched as the half-and-half hero approached him, then dissolved into giggles when fingers spidered up and down his sides. Todoroki’s hesitation melted away, and he smirked with a sudden surge of confidence. “Does it tickle, Aoyama?”

“Oui,” the blonde giggled, squirming but not really fighting back.

Kiri smirked, too. “Is this what you were doing? Trying to get us to tickle you?”

“N-Nohohoho, of course nohohohohot!”

“Hmm…I think he’s lying. What about you, Todo?”

“Perhaps so.” Todoroki scribbled up into his underarms, making Aoyama squeal and giggle even harder. He smiled. “Well, I’m more than happy to give him what he wants.”

*

46) Lee Uraraka, Ler Momo

“Well, Momo, there’s one thing you can’t make!” Uraraka said proudly, smirking at her friend. “You can’t make me laugh!”

Momo looked at her, frowning. “What? Of course I can. Why would you say that?”

Uraraka hesitated. She’d said it as a joke, but now seeing how hurt the taller girl looked, she thought maybe she’d gone a bit too far. “Come on, Momo – we all know your jokes aren’t really the best. They’re kind of funny, but…”

“I can make you laugh.”

“Yeah? Prove it, then.”

Momo lunged, pushing the smaller girl onto her back on the ground and digging into her ribs just enough to draw out some light giggles. “There, see? You’re laughing.”

“I’m nohohohohohot!”

“Hmm…I suppose these are more like giggles, huh?” Momo contemplated for a moment, then grabbed one of Uraraka’s arms and pinned it above her head, scribbling her nails into the exposed armpit. This time, Uraraka did laugh. “Ha! There we go.”

“Nahahahahahaha Momo! Stahahahahahap!” Uraraka laughed helplessly, rolling around on the ground but going nowhere fast. “Okahahahay, okay, you wihihihihihin! You mahahahade me laugh!”

Momo grinned, releasing her and sitting back. “Is that proof enough for you? I can make anything, Ochaco.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Uraraka beamed, reaching for Momo’s sides. “You’ve certainly made me want to get you back for that!”

“No, wait – Ochaco wahahahahahait-!”

*

47) Lee Kirishima, Ler Bakugou

“Man, you really can’t move around that much, can you?” Bakugou chuckled, watching Kiri’s legs kick frantically as he gently traced the lightest, most torturous circles into the redhead’s thighs, dragging his fingertips from the insides to the backs, making his friend squeal with laughter.

“Bahahahahahahakugou, plehehehehehehehease!”

“Please what?”

“It tihihihihihihickles so bahahahahahad!”

“Not my problem.” Bakugou was straddling Kiri’s torso as the redhead lay on his stomach, focusing his attention mostly on the boy’s lower back and thighs, as both of these were spots he’d learned recently that could turn the normally strong, confident Kiri into a pleading, babbling mess in no time.

Bakugou let his fingers trail back upwards, tugging Kiri’s shirt out of the way enough to lightly drag his fingernails along his lower back near his hips, and Kiri let out a small whimper as his body shuddered from the contact.

“Oh?” the blonde smirked. “Here?” He did it again, and again, and again, and soon enough Kiri was giggling helplessly into the floor, pleading for mercy under his breath. Bakugou smiled. It genuinely made him happy to see Kiri having so much fun like this, even if his “fun” was getting lost somewhere between pleasure and torture like he was now.

Still, he couldn’t help but be a little mean. “Tickle, tickle~”

“Nohohohohoho,” Kiri whined, kicking his legs again. “Dohohohohohon’t…”

“Don’t what?”

“Tehehehehease me!”

“Tease you?” Bakugou grinned, focusing on a tiny spot right above his hips on his sides that made Kiri jump and dissolve into hard giggles that bordered on laughter, pinning him in place so he couldn’t move. “If you insist~”

*

48) Lee Tokoyami, Ler Kaminari

“Wait a second, you giggle?” Kaminari laughed, kneading his thumbs further into his victim’s hips. “Oh, this is too good!”

Tokoyami clenched his teeth in an effort to stave off said giggles, but it was useless and he knew it. He shook his head desperately, grabbing Kami’s wrists, digging his heels into the floor behind the blonde’s straddle. “Plehehehehease, gehehet off…Kahahaminari…!”

“Tickle, tickle, Tokoyami~” Kami teased, igniting his tickle shocks just slightly to watch the boy beneath him twitch and screech before finally giving in and letting out a stream of high-pitched giggles.

“Ehehehahahahahaha! Nohohohohoho!” Tokoyami squirmed helplessly, giggling like a child, unable to do much more than weakly grasp his assailant’s arms and beg. “Plehehehehease, no! N-Noho tihihihihickling!”

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it~”

“I dohohohohohon’t! GAH!!” The bird boy suddenly bucked his hips and arched his back, giggles turning to laughter. “NAHAHAHAHAHA KAMINARIEHEHEHEHE!!”

Kami beamed, pleased to have found a new spot to have fun with. He dug even deeper into Tokoyami’s belly. “Ticklish here? Does someone have a ticklish tummy? I think it’s you~”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Tickle, tickle, tiiiiickle~”

Tokoyami collapsed on the ground in a fit of uncontrollable laughter, shaking his head as little chirps and tweets started spilling past his lips as well. He even stared to blush; Kaminari almost couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Aww, is the little birdie ticklish? Yes, he is! Tickle, tickle, tickle little ticklish Tokoyami!”

“STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!” Tokoyami pleaded, practically wheezing now. “I GIHIHIHIVE!! I GIVE – PLEHEHEHEASE DEHEHEHENKI!!”

Kami grinned but finally slowed to a stop, patting his friend’s chest reassuringly. “All right, no more, I promise. But seriously – hearing you laugh like that was the best thing that’s happened all week!”

Tokoyami groaned, but his lips were still pulled upward in a traitorous smile. “I hate you.”

*

49) Switches Momo and Todoroki

“Sorry, what was that? I can’t hear you.”

Momo struggled in Todoroki’s hold, but his grip on her was firm and his fingers in her side were even firmer. She giggled out her reply as best she could. “I s-sahahahahaid you – yohohohohou hahahahave a c-cuhuhuhuhute lahahahahaugh! Plehehehehease!”

“Do I?” Todoroki couldn’t help but grin, holding her with ease despite her squirming, loving the reactions he was getting from her. “Well, I hate to disagree with you, but I think your laugh is cuter.”

“Is nohohohohohot!”

“Do you really think you’re in a position to be arguing with me?” Todoroki murmured in her ear, sliding his hand to her hip and squeezing. She jolted and laughed. “No? Didn’t think so.”

“Stahahahahahahap! Plehehehehehease!” Momo kicked and squirmed, but his grip was unwavering. In a frantic, last-ditch effort to be free, she blindly grabbed for his thigh and squeezed it, making him yelp and release his grip on her just enough for her to break free and turn the tables on him, pinning him down and going straight for his underarms.

“PFFT-NAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Todoroki tossed his head back and laughed openly, clamping his arms to his sides and kicking his feet in the air behind her as she moved to straddle his waist. “AHAHAHAHAHA NO FAHAHAHAHAHAIR!!”

“No fair? How?”

“YOU KNOHOHOHOHOW I’M MOHOHOHOHORE TIHIHIHIHICKLISH THAN YOHOHOHOHOU!!”

“And?” Momo laughed, raking her nails down his torso to his hips and grabbing his thighs again, watching him buck and thrash in satisfaction. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE, MOMO!!”

“Please keep tickling you?” she beamed, winking at him when he looked up at her with panicked excitement. “You got it, Shoto.”

*

50) Lee Kirishima, Ler Bakugou

“Again,” Kiri pleaded, his eyes shimmering with mirthful tears and his chest heaving, but obviously having the time of his life.

Bakugou stared for a moment, then shook his head with a laugh. “Wow, Kiri, I knew you liked it, but you sound like you’re dying and you still want me to tickle you?”

“Please!”

“All right…” The blonde pinned his arms by his sides and went back to nibbling his ribs like he had moments ago, sending Kiri into another round of shrieking giggles. When the redhead sounded like he was gasping for air, Bakugou let up, allowing him a moment to breathe. “You doing all right?”

“I – I love it,” Kiri said between breaths, still smiling like an idiot. His eyes were kind of glazed over; it was clear he was reaching some kind of otherworldly plane from all of this intense tickling on his worst spot.

Bakugou hesitated. “Pretty soon you’re not even going to know where you are. Are you sure you still want-?”

“Yes, yes,” Kiri affirmed emphatically, nodding. “Make me forget. I want to forget everything but this.”

“Heh…you really love it, don’t you?”

“I’ve only told you like a million times now.”

“Fine.” Bakugou gripped his arms tighter and leaned down again, smirking at how his friend’s eyes lit up. “Buckle up, buttercup. Because this time I’m not stopping.”

And Kirishima giggled his way into a happy, ticklish oblivion.

#fanfiction #tickle fic #tickle drabble #compilation #quick prompts #boku no hero #my hero academia #bnha #mha #sentence starters #shindeku

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I... I would... I would love to see Jameson testing Jake some more... I mean the drabble of him demanding Jake let him do things for him for food was... good...

Your wish is my command, my love

CW: Noncon/dubcon (nightmare, semi-explicit), noncon/dubcon touching and kissing, internal dehumanization, flashbacks, survivor initiates spice and is rejected, conditioned behavior, trauma response, knives, blood

More salt-copper-sweetness than sugar and vanilla, now, Nanda’s voice is rough with his breath hot against the pet’s ear. It’s a warmth that covers him, inside and out. 

It presses against the underside of the pet’s skin, and he opens his mouth to pant, sure that the blood will come back out from within him when he does, that he’ll spill Nanda’s voice back at him, a waterfall of the touch and tension and twist leaving him to fall like an offering or a plea at Nanda’s feet.

“Did you think I wouldn’t find you?” Nanda asks, licking at the shell of his ear, and the pet shivers, all his awareness stretched between the hot tongue on his skin and the cold blade of the knife, the flat side pressed against his ribcage on one side.

Each is a promise, and the pet wants both to be kept.

“I-I...” His own voice is weak, snap of twigs, rosemary boiled in water until the flavor is gone. He shifts, kneeling somewhere that he can’t remember, a small room in a small house on a small street in a town where everything is named for the glory of the man he saved her from. There’s a folded paper on a desk and if he can only look, he’ll know, he’ll know why and where and when. If he can only look-

“I thought it might b-be difficult-... ah!”

Nanda’s hand, rough palms and calloused fingers, curving around the back of his neck over his collar, jerking him closer, and he forgets the note and the room and the town and there is only Nanda, there has only ever been Nanda and the pain. There are metal cuffs around his wrists, his favorite ones that scratch him and sting perfectly for hours after they’re done, keeping his hands behind him, just touching the small of his back with his wrists and his knuckles brush even lower. 

“What might be difficult, pet?” 

Oh, there’s the sugar, the slow melody of vanilla and egg. He loves how his owner says what he is, he has to love it, he was told to love it and there is no love but this one, no life for him but the custard voice of the man who cuts him to ribbons until he begs for more.

The pet’s mouth opens to pant as the knife is turned, Nanda’s motions slow and controlled, and the bright light of perfect pain sparks inside him as the knife draws a line. His skin opens like silk for the blade, and he moans, dropping his head forward onto Nanda’s shoulder, listening to the sound of his laughter like a spoon cracking the crust on creme brulee. Sugar, and fire, and blood.

“That... that it’d be difficult... mmmmn, fuck-... what with y-you... being dead.”

Nanda goes silent, shifting one thigh between the pet’s legs, pressing kisses into the soft, short shorn hair with bald spots from Robert’s muzzle, humming softly in thought. His thumb rubs, ever so gently, at the pet’s nape while the knife slips a little deeper.

The pet whimpers, rocks, ruts helplessly against Nanda’s leg, turns his head enough to lock at the soft skin of Nanda’s neck the underside of his jaw. Blood trickles in a welcome hint of sensation down his side, over the flat space just inside his hip. 

“That wasn’t very nice of you,” Nanda murmurs, fingers twisting into his hair, pulling it up and back enough to see the pleasure-drunk haze in the pet’s eyes, watch him bite his lip to muffle his whimpers and moans as he rocks in an erratic rhythm against the expensive fucking tailored pants Nanda is wearing. “To leave me like that.”

“You... ah, mmmh... fuck, you left me.”

“Look at you.” Nanda’s voice is a whisper again. The knife dips, swirls lazily through his skin like an artist pulling color across canvas. It presses in just a little too deep (not deep enough) and the pet throws his head back, briefly breaking Nanda’s grip, back arching into a perfect bow as he cries out. Nanda’s hand pushes between his legs, then, too-warm and not warm enough, firm grip curving around him, stroking with the same lazy slowness that he has with the knife. “What is it like, to love the pain?”

The pet swallows, the knife digs and digs digs into soft skin along his belly, drops down to his thigh, blood wells up swift and absurdly brightly red there. 

“It’s... it’s hell,” He whispers. “I hate, ah, ah, ah-... I hate this.”

Nanda’s laugh breaks apart like a mirror, shatters into a thousand bites of sweet blood, drips over his mind like oil. If he was kneeling before, he’s on his knees again with his face pressed down against the cool concrete floor of the specialty room, legs spread, and his back is heat and blood and pain. 

Nanda’s hands are on his hips, gripped tightly enough to leave the bruises he will kiss later, as he murmurs, “We know all about coming back from the dead, here, don’t we, J-”

Jameson wakes up.

There’s no gasp, no dramatic sitting-up-in-bed like in the movies. In one moment, Nanda’s voice murmured a name he can’t remember as the pet’s body gave way to his demands and in the next his eyes are open to pitch-black darkness and the soft sound of his roommate’s breathing across the room.

The pet’s-...

Jameson’s body shudders, shivers roiling under his skin. He is hard and throbbing, and one of his hands brushes down over his ribs just to make sure his fingers don’t slip through slick blood. He breathes in through his nose, heart pounding, and looks across the room.

The barest hint of moonlight through the window gives him enough to see Allyn by. Their hair spreads light red and thick around them, the blue light of night turning it all slightly eerie and haunted. The rounded lines of their face, the soft relaxation of their mouth. He wishes Allyn would bite him hard enough to make it bleed, and then pour their rain-voice over him and tell him he’s good. He wants their hands on him. 

He wants someone’s hand on him.

He reaches under the pillow and grabs his collar, keeping his fingers over the buckle to muffle its clinking, and pulls it quickly on around his neck, choking on a sob, on his rage, on how badly he needs to be cut apart until he feels taken in ways he wants no one to ever take him again. 

The constriction is soothing. He’s safe.

He’s safe, here.

He’s so hard the slightest brush against his boxers feels like he could finish just like this, just from the memory of Nanda’s voice whispering are you ready for me, pet?

A different voice, sonorous and droning, are you ready to leave the darkness and come back into the light-

False memories. Stop. Leave me alone. He bites his lip until he feels blood break free, but it’s not enough.

Jameson pushes the blankets down - he’s pouring sweat, cold but it doesn’t make him feel any better - and sits up. His feet settle onto the cool smooth hardwood, as old as the house, and he stands, stumbling to the door. He thinks-

He thinks, water.

A drink of water.

Rub one out to the memory of a dead man, then water, and back to bed.

The bathroom door is open. The light is on. He almost stops, but he knows Nova never turns the bathroom light off if she uses it, she says it’s bad luck, he doesn’t ask but she says it anyway. Everyone thinks he fucking cares about their shit here. He doesn’t.

He just needs-

water-

touch-

to be bled by someone who tells him he is a good boy-

The big guy who owns this place is in the bathroom. Jameson stops in the doorway, staring at his back. Muscles ripple under mostly unmarked skin, the slight curve of waist and small of his back. Jameson pictures his own nails digging into the skin, the soft red welts he could leave there, lines to mark him. How Jake’s hands could leave him bruised in all the best places.

How easily he could force his legs apart or shove him up against a wall and hold him there, hands around his neck, thumbs digging into his jaw on either side. How Jake’s voice would sound when he moaned, when he buried himself inside, when the pain between them was perfect, like it had been with Nanda, like it can be again.

His heart is still pounding, thumping so loud he’s sure Jake can hear it, pouring adrenaline in his veins he tells himself is lust and not fear of how deep this runs.

He moves.

Jake’s eyes must have been closed, whatever he was doing, because he doesn’t see Jameson coming, and he jumps when his hand lays against his back, turning quickly around. He’s so tall, and strong, but there are no bruises from him on the pet’s-

on Jameson’s skin.

“Hey,” Jake says, voice low, river under rock, wearing what seems eternal slowly away. His eyes drop to the collar buckled tightly around Jameson’s neck, and he takes in a breath. There’s no surprise, there. He’s seen this before, they’ve seen so many pets, but none like me, Jameson thinks, almost desperately. Not like me. Not like this. “What do you-”

Jameson backs him into the sink and grabs his face in his hands, pulling him down, forcing their mouths together. It’s less a kiss than a challenge, and Jake makes a sound of muffled uncertainty before his hands slide up to Jameson’s shoulders, and he thinks, yes, make it hurt-

Jake shoves him back and away, holding him at arms’ length. “No.”

“I want you to fuck me,” Jameson snaps, trying to twist free of the grip, but Jake’s hands are strong. “I want you. I want this. Fuck me!” He shivers in pleasure as he pulls too hard and feels a burst of pain that goes right between his legs, his already nearly painful erection seeming to throb even harder. Being hurt hasn’t felt so good since Nanda died.

Since he walked away-

“I said no.” Jake shakes his head. There’s a stubble along his jaw, and Jameson hates Kauri suddenly for getting the redness on his skin where the stubble scratches even though Jameson never does, not anywhere, not on his inner thighs, nowhere at all. Hates how they smile at each other. Hates that Kauri doesn’t feel like this, not anymore, and Jameson can’t imagine it will never stop for him. “You know I won’t ever touch you that way.”

“I want you to!” His voice cracks, he’s desperate, and when Jake lets go, just for a second, Jameson grabs his hand and shoves it down, so Jake can feel how hard he is, rocks forward against the heat of Jake’s palm. “See? I want it. Please, fuck, please-” His eyes are wide with need, and fear - of himself and Jake and his mind and his broken betraying body. “Please, I’m good, please-”

Jake’s hand jerks back with a hiss and he moves away. “I. Will. Not. Fuck. You. Listen to me. Just talk to me for a second-... I need you take in a deep breath, I think you are reacting to a reminder of-”

“Oh, fuck off! If you won’t fuck me, get out of here so I can take care of my fucking s-self.”

God damn it, his voice is weakening, he feels like he’ll collapse under the weight of death he’s walked away from or caused by his own hand. He slumps down onto the ground, onto the bathmat next to the tub, and puts his hands over his face. 

There’s a pause, then Jake again. “Just-”

“Just fucking go!” His eyes burn bright and hot, his breath hitches. Still desire runs up through his nerves and won’t let him go. “Get out! I hate you! I should have stayed with h-him, I shouldn’t have left, I should have been good and good and good and good until, until, unt-til-”

There’s a whisper at the door, Jake’s low murmur in return. Jameson hears, tell everyone I’m handling it if they ask, stay out here. Make sure Allyn goes back to their room, just in case. 

Just in case what? In case he hurts them? In case-

He came in here so he wouldn’t. 

Oh, fuck, what if he hurts Allyn?

A pause, and then the click of the door closing. Jameson looks out from behind his fingers, only to find Jake slowly sliding down to sit with his back against the door. 

“Talk to me,” Jake says softly. “What happened? Did you have a nightmare?”

Jameson’s tears break free, then, burn down his cheeks like a volcano is pouring liquid fire into a city below and leaving wreckage and empty air in the shape of bodies behind. He chokes on a sob and curls up around himself, shaking his head, again and again. 

He can’t stop crying, and Jake doesn’t stop him, only waits. 

He nods.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice is low. Fresh water on his tongue, a snowmelt waterfall by the side of the road. He laughed, didn’t he? He held his hand out to feel the icy water slide through his fingers and sink into the thawing earth below.

It doesn’t snow here.

Why won’t his mind stop inventing memories that aren’t his?

“What happened in your dream? You don’t have to tell me, only if you want to.” Jake’s voice, low and calming, doesn’t stop Jameson’s tears but instead it opens him up to them, he cries the same way he bled, helpless to stop. 

“M-My-... my first-... I was w-w-with him-”

“Okay.” Jake hesitates, and then asks, softly, “Can you tell me what you were so afraid of that you put the collar on?”

Jameson doesn’t look up. He keeps crying. Eventually, though, he manages to answer.

“M-myself.”

---

@astrobly @burtlederp @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @moose-teeth @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @endless-whump @eatyourdamnpears @boxboysandotherwhump @vickytokio @outofangband @downriver914 @justabitofwhump  @thehopelessopus @butwhatifyouwrite @yet-another-heathen @wildfaewhump

#whump #nsfwhump #intimate whumper #intimate whump #masochism tw #sadistic whumper #creepy whumper #blood tw #knives tw #trauma response #abuse survivor initiating spice #dehumanization tw #conditioned behavior #conditioning #bbu #box boy universe #box boy #jameson bb #noncon tw #dubcon tw #noncon kissing #noncon touching #ptsd tw

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 17

He loves you

B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: you and Bucky stay in bed for a while. Y/n meets Sam

Warnings: fluff, kissing, implied smut, there’s probably some swearing somewhere

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Layers of pale sunlight streaked through the thin, flimsy white curtains, forming a rich sheen of dull yellow light across the room. The encroaching stream of gold cast over y/n's face blinked her awake, her heavy eyelids fluttering and her mouth opening in a sinfully beautiful yawn. Or at least Bucky thought so, but he thought everything about y/n was beautiful.

Bucky had been laying there for a near hour now, blue eyes gazing over his girl's features as she looked blissfully peaceful immersed in a deep sleep. Last night's events must've really fired her out. Y/n's small hand was splayed against his bare chest, chin tucked into the crook of his neck and body embraced by his warm, flesh arm. His fingers danced in small swirls against her back, drawing small figurines ever-so-lightly against she sunlit-skin.

A soft smile had found his lips, tugging them upwards into almost a grin at the sight of y/n in his arms. Her leg was still thrown over his waist haphazardly, his shirt ridden up to around her ribs, panties doing little to conceal what the shirt had revealed.

Y/n's head lifted slowly, his soft smile contagious in the way it curled upon her lips, too.

"Morning, soldier." She mumbled, raspy and broken with a mixture of the strain and sleep. He pulled the girl into him further, his small smile growing when he felt her nuzzle into his warmth. Her disjointed voice was cute, Bucky thought, a reminder to him that he wasn't the only one still struggling to fit in.

He'd spent nearly five months in Bruce's lab, on ice once again as the man and Tony both tried to figure out how to rid him of his winter soldier side. They'd recovered him the first mission they'd gone on, the one without Steve. And not even Steve new Bucky was back until a week ago, although the soldier was only released from the lab yesterday.

Bruce had offered to take Bucky to the party with him, but the super soldier had politely - albeit quickly - declined his offer, knowing almost off instinct that the party scene wasn't one for him. Instead, he'd asked for directions to y/n's room, where he had waited for probably close to an hour before y/n had come storming in.

"You sound like you've been gargling glass." Bucky teased, unable to keep a deadpan expression as the words formed on his lips. Y/n's mouth opened in shock, and she used one arm to prop herself up whilst smacking Bucky's chest with the other. He chuckled, grabbing the hand she'd used to hit him before lifting it to his lips. Bucky kissed each of her fingertips in-turn, before bringing it to cup his face and holding her warmth against his skin. He turned his mouth towards her palm, plump lips fluttering against it as y/n looked in with pure...adoration in her eyes.

"I love you." The words tumbled from her lips like a simple thank you before she could think it through, Bucky's lips stilled against the palm of her hand, his eyes searching hers as if he was trying to find a hint as to why she just said that. It took her a moment to realise that he could be confused, after all, she blurted the words rather quickly and even she wasn't sure that she would've heard them had they come from someone else's mouth. "I love you." She said slower, as if she was hand picking each word before she said it. "I'm totally and completely in love with you." She murmured, eyes captured by the awe struck across Bucky's face.

"W-why?" He finally mustered the courage to say, dropping her hand back to his chest. Y/n took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she did so as if to prepare herself for what she was about to say.

"Because, you were my calm after the storm. Everything bad that seemed to happen, you were there to pick up the pieces after." She explained, moving the hand that'd been dropped to his chest to rest over Bucky's heart. It was racing.

"But all I did was...look at you. Sometimes I was the problem." Bucky argued, almost with himself. It was like he didn't believe what y/n he said, like he thought she was trickling him.

"But your eyes...they quelled the anger, the frustration, the hurt and the pain," y/n continued on, "it's like the real you - not the winter soldier - was always waiting, like you were simply hiding in the sidelines." She confessed, a slither of a tear making its way across her waterline. She opened her mouth to say more, but she found her lips already pressed against his.

Bucky rolled them over, his frame hovering above y/n's as he covered her face in small, affectionate kisses.

"I love you too." He whispered against her ear, giving the lobe a playful nip that made y/n squeal and giggle, a sound that had Bucky grinning boyishly and tickling her sides with his slender fingers, relishing in the cute sound she made.

"Please!" She gasped, face red and tears of laughter streaking her face, "please, h-have mercy!" She pleaded with him.

"Only if you say it again." Bucky smirked, straddling her hips and tickling his fingers against her sides.

"Say what?" Y/n breathed, her small form writhing beneath his as he kept up him ministrations.

"You know exactly what." Bucky mumbled as he leant over y/n, beginning to kiss and suck her neck too.

"I love you." She said softly, voice not as crackly now that she'd spoken a little bit more. Bucky's fingers halted for a moment, his nose brushing against hers and their breaths mingled as his stared deeply into her eyes.

"I know." He whispered, pecking the tip of her nose before beginning to tickle the poor girl again, a wolfish grin playing against his lips.

"You promised!" Y/n gasped, trying desperately to get out his grip.

"Oops." Bucky mumbled against her lips, connecting them once again.

...

We had stayed in bed most of the morning, desperate to avoid Steve and my dad for as long as we possibly could. But at noon Bucky ushered me out of bed, claiming he was to meet with a friend and that it was bad for us to spend all day in bed.

I had sighed, getting out of bed with a huff before he was pulling me into his lap, back against his chest and his lips kissing my neck softly. His warm skin against mine made me relax, his hand on my cheek tilting my head back to meet his in a sweet kiss all the convincing I needed.

Sweaty, hot, and flustered, I panted as I climbed the stairs to the floor my apartment was on in the tower. I swiped my forehead, grimacing at the sticky feel of my sweat covering the back of my hand.

To blow off some steam and the manifesting stress of yesterday, I'd decided to go on a short run. That had turned into five bloody miles. So naturally, I was a knackered, panting mess with hair clinging to my face and sweat forming dark patches under my armpits.

I conquered the last flight of stairs - too stubborn to take the elevator as I was more likely to bump into Steve or Tony that way - and dragged my feet the whole way to my room.

I pushed the door open, a hundred-percent ready to flop onto either my bed or my sofa and die. But when I walked in, I was greeted by the sight of Bucky and some guy I'd never met sat at the small breakfast bar in the kitchen of my apartment, two coffee mugs resting in front of them.

The sound of the door opening had caught both mens' attention, both facing me. I offered a weak smile, shoulder slumped with her tiredness. I was mentally cursing, embarrassed that Bucky's friend was seeing me like this the first time we's met.

"Hey, doll." Bucky smiled, clearing his throat when I looked at him questioningly. "This is Sam. I hope you're okay with us using your room." Bucky said sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck and giving me an apologetic smile, "Steve was meant to show me to mine last night. Obviously that's not going to happen now." He said, met with a chuckle from Sam.

"You must be y/n. It's great to finally meet you." Sam smiled kindly, his face soft and he seemed to not be affected by my state, or if he was he didn't show it. I smiled back, slightly wider this time.

"Yeah. It's nice to meet you to, although Bucky's never mentioned you before." I commented, trying to keep my tone civil, the ache in me to just collapse to the floor growing. He chuckled, so did Bucky.

"I, uh, I met him a while back. Six months ago maybe? Of course, he was trying to kill me at the time." Sam said comically, slapping a hand onto Bucky's shoulder a Bucky looked down at his drink, pearly whites shown as he laughed.

"Oh." Was all I said, instantly connecting the dots. That's when I was with HYDRA, I realised. The second time. Sam stood slowly, grabbing his jacket from the back of the barstool before turning to me.

"Well, it was wonderful meeting you."

"You too." I smiled.

"And thank you for the coffee." He finished, directing it at Bucky this time. The soldier smiled and waved at Sam as he left, standing from his own seat to deposit the used mugs in the little sink. Sam's exit was announced bu the thud of the door as it swung shut.

"At least give a girl some warning, next time." I instantly chided, shoulder slumping at Bucky sauntered over to me. He was amusedly smiling, teeth on show as her hooked arm arm around my shoulders and pulled me into his chest.

"Sorry." He mumbled, placing a chaste kiss into my hair. "Now go have a shower, you need it." He said, pushing me away and turning me towards the bathroom.

"Hey!" I complained, yelping as I felt his hand connect with my ass as I began to walk away.

#smut #image #images #marvel #marvel smut #steve rogers #bucky x steve #steve rogers image #steve rogers x reader #steve x bucky #steve roger fanfic #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic #winter soldier smut #winter soldier #winter solider fanfiction #captain america smut #captain america fanfiction #captain america #chris evans #chris evans smut #seb stan #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #marvel fanfic #avengers smut

[sisterspooky1013]

Damsels, Chapter Five: Work That Gameboy

By SisterSpooky1013 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Rated E / Read previous chapters here

Mulder arrives at work early, looking longingly at Scully’s car in the parking lot. Approaching it, he peers in the windows looking for…he isn’t sure what. Her car is, as usual, neat as a pin with no indication of where she went or why.

In his restlessness the night before, he’d thought a lot about why it bothers him so much not to know where she is or what she’s doing. If the roles were reversed, he would expect her to wait it out and trust him to take care of himself, but for some reason he’s struggling to do the same for her. He thought at first that it was her tendency to get hurt or need help, but by comparison he needs her help just as often as she needs his, so that doesn’t track. Then he thought maybe it’s that he doesn’t trust Skinner to do what’s in her best interest, but Skinner has shown a tendency to be protective of Scully on numerous occasions (and in fact Mulder strongly suspects his feelings for her go beyond the bounds of strict professionalism), so that isn’t entirely logical either. Skinner may have left him out to dry with the New Spartans, but he doesn’t believe the man would stoop low enough to treat Scully in the same manner.

In the end, he realized that it’s pretty simple; he’s just crazy about her. His protectiveness doesn’t have anything to do with how capable she is, or the situations other people might put her in, or even situations she might put herself in. He misses her, and cares so much about her that not even knowing where she is feels wrong. It feels like a piece of him is missing, and he’s not allowed to know where it is or when he’ll get it back.

After pretending to work for an hour, he sulks up to Skinner’s office and asks for a few minutes of his time. Skinner is immediately irritated, though Mulder doesn’t realize that it’s in response to him and not a preexisting condition. He stands in front of Skinner’s desk, looming over him.

“What do you want, Agent Mulder?” Skinner grumbles, not looking up from the document he’s reading.

“I’d like to know where Agent Scully is, sir.”

Skinner sighs heavily, dropping his head to his chest.

“Get out of my office, Agent Mulder,” he says in a low, menacing tone.

“Sir, I’m not asking to contact her, I would never compromise her case, I just need to at least know where she is. What if something happens and I need to find her?”

Skinner stands, looking Mulder in the eye with an intensity he’s seen on very few occasions, none of them fond memories. “Agent Mulder, Agent Scully explicitly asked me not to tell you where she is, or what she’s doing. Even if she hadn’t, I STILL would not tell you, however I hope that if you don't respect the direct orders of your superior, you might, at the very least, respect Agent Scully’s wishes. Now get the hell out of my office and do not bring this up again, understood?”

Mulder glances down and notices Scully’s keys on the desk near Skinner’s nameplate, her Apollo 11 keychain easily identifiable. He leans forward, putting his hands on the desktop, one covering the keys.

“Sir, if anything happens to her, I’ll-“

“You’ll what, Agent Mulder?” Skinner challenges him, stuffing his hands in his pockets in a show of bravado.

Mulder straightens, palming the keys as he stands, and leaves without another word.

Scully arrives at the club just before 2 pm, wearing shorts and a tank top as Angel had instructed. After stuffing her purse into a locker, she finds Angel and Tibet on the floor, which has returned to its daylight state of clean and quiet. Queenie restocks the bar while Ben fiddles with the sound system.

Tibet is up on the stage while Angel sits at the tip rail, offering pointers on a new dance Tibet is working out. Scully immediately notices that Tibet’s hair is cropped short and worn in its natural curls, and realizes she’d been wearing a wig the night before.

“So I was thinking that I could either take my top off just before or just after the first chorus, tell me which looks better, okay?” Tibet says to Angel as Scully enters and takes a seat beside her.

“Benny! Hit me with the music!” Tibet shouts, and then repeats her performance twice, revealing her breasts at a different point in the song each time. When she’s finished, she sits down on the edge of the stage in front of them and asks for their thoughts, her breasts still uncovered.

“I think the sooner the better,” Angel says. “They come here to see your body, so show it to em!”

Tibet nods. “What do you think, Desi?” She asks, stretching a smooth brown leg out to her side and leaning into it.

Scully suddenly feels entirely out of her league in terms of providing an opinion. “Uh, well, generally speaking I guess I’d say wait. You want to build some suspense, right? Make them work for it?”

Angel looks at her suspiciously out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t fuck on the first date, do you?” She asks with a haughty grin, and Scully’s eyes go big at the question. “I’m just messing with you, let’s get to your training!”

“Alright,” Tibet begins as though she’s done this dozens of times, tugging the straps of her shirt back over her shoulders. “So, have you ever given a lap dance before?” she asks plainly, and Scully’s cheeks flush.

“Well, kind of I guess. In college, though more as a joke than anything else. I would definitely consider myself a beginner.”

“Got it, got it,” Tibet responds. “Well, for the most part dancing is about creating a sense of intimacy. It’s fake, obviously, but the more your customer feels like you actually care about him, want him to look at you, like that he’s appreciating your body, the better you’ll do. Your stage set is just about showing yourself off and getting them curious about you. The real money comes from lap dances and VIP, and the more you can draw attention with a really great stage set, the more customers will want to spend time with you afterward. Angel is a beast on the pole and she can teach you all those tricks, but I consider myself the lap dance expert around here, so I’m gonna teach you that part.” She smiles and jumps down from the stage, pulling a chair away from one of the tables and gesturing for Scully to sit in it.

“Oh,” Scully says, and sits as instructed.

“Sometimes, when you’re on the floor, customers will flag you down or ask for you, and that’s great. But you also have to approach people, because they’ll be too shy to ask. So you might come up and do this.”

Tibet saunters towards Scully with a secretive smile on her lips, stepping so close that her thighs thread between Scully’s knees. Next she leans down, placing her hands on Scully’s shoulders and bringing her mouth to Scully’s ear.

“Would you like a dance, Baby?” she asks in a syrupy voice, and Scully feels a shiver run down her spine. Tibet backs up. “Okay, now you try.”

“You want ME to do that?” Scully clarifies, and while just asking someone if they want a lap dance should be the easiest hurdle to clear, she’s finding that it’s still an uncomfortably high one.

Angel turns her head toward the bar and calls out, “Queenie! We need some liquid courage over here!”

Queenie walks over with a bottle of tequila and three shot glasses, pouring them wordlessly before returning to her task.

Angel holds her glass up, Tibet and Scully following suit. “To new career paths,” Angel says, and Scully smiles thinly, clinking her glass with theirs and throwing back the shot with a grimace.

Three weeks. She’s been gone three weeks, and not a word from Skinner. No update, no information, though he’s stopped by a couple times and asked, drawing increasing amounts of rage from his boss. He’s finished all the paperwork, re-organized the files, cleaned and rearranged the office (only to immediately change it back) and spent hours upon hours imagining where Scully might be right now.

He kept her keys, just in case, but knows she’d be unhappy with him invading her privacy by snooping around her apartment. That’s why he waits three whole weeks before he finally does it. He has a key to her apartment and could have gone there at any point, but her personal keyring also holds the keys for her gun safe and her mailbox, which may prove helpful. After work on a Thursday, he drives by and lets himself in, the warm vanilla smell of her immediately invading his nostrils as he opens the door. He sighs deeply, pulling her into his lungs; it feels like coming home.

First he waters her plants, which are looking half dead, and makes a mental note to use watering them as the reason he came here if asked. Next he opens her gun safe, and is struck to find her service weapon holstered and tucked neatly inside with the safety on. She doesn’t have her gun? What the hell kind of assignment is this? He brings in her mail, which is no help at all, and leaves it stacked on the counter. Next he lays down on her bed, shoving his face into her pillow and breathing the smell of her shampoo for a few minutes before he has the thought to look for her overnight bag.

Scully has a go bag in the trunk of her car for emergencies, but given the opportunity she’ll use her overnight bag and pack for the weather, situation, etc. Opening her closet, he finds it on the floor near her laundry hamper, empty save for a travel size can of hairspray tucked into a side pocket. In her bathroom, he finds all her toiletries accounted for, including her toothbrush. The more he sees, the more confused he is. Even when he’d spent time undercover with dangerous individuals, he’d been allowed to bring his own toothbrush.

Moving to the hallway, he picks up her landline and dials.

“Dana?” Maggie Scully’s voice answers on the second ring.

“No, sorry, Mrs. Scully, it’s Fox Mulder.”

“I saw Dana’s name on the caller ID, is she with you?” Her voice carries worry.

“No, I’m just here at her apartment watering her plants, sorry to confuse you. Have you been in touch with Dana, Mrs. Scully?”

“No, Fox, I haven’t heard from her in weeks. She told me she had an assignment that would take her away for a while and that she’d be unreachable, but I’m a little concerned that she hasn’t contacted me yet.”

Mulder closes his eyes. “I wish I had anything to share, Mrs. Scully, but I’m in somewhat of the same boat. A.D. Skinner isn’t concerned and it does sound like he’s in touch with her, but I was hoping she might have called you.”

“I’m afraid not,” Maggie replies sadly.

“What did she tell you when she left? Did she share any information at all?” he asks hopefully.

“Um, let me think. She said she was going on an assignment and that she’d be out of touch for a few weeks. And she said she’d bring me some Tastykakes when she comes home,” she adds.

“Tastykakes, what are those?” Mulder asks, his investigative senses tingling.

“They’re a treat we always get when we go to Philadelphia; little packaged snack cakes. The kids always loved them.”

“Are they only available in Philadelphia?” he asks, heart pumping.

“I’m not sure, but that’s where we always get them,” Maggie says hopefully.

“Thank you, Mrs. Scully. That’s really helpful. I’ll let you know if I track her down, okay?”

“Thank you, Fox. Take care.”

Setting the phone back on its cradle, he does a little victory dance. It isn’t much, but it’s something. Scully is just a few hours away in the city of brotherly love.

Three weeks. It’s been three weeks of practicing stage sets and lap dances in the afternoon, serving drinks in the evening and well into the middle of the night, and then sleeping until noon. Her arms and legs bear fading bruises from her acclimation to Paul the Pole, the crooks of her elbows and knees sporting slight calluses that help her get a good grip (with an assist from the grip powder Angel has instructed her to use). She’s given Tibet and Angel dozens of lap dances each, the other standing by to coach her on making sure one foot stays on the floor. After three weeks, she found that her barriers were mostly in her head. Once she was able to let go and just move, she’s actually pretty good at it.

That day she arrives in pink cotton shorts and a white tank top, now so used to being scantily clad that it no longer makes her self-conscious, and prepares to do a full dress rehearsal of the routine she worked up with Angel’s help. Queenie and Ricky sit down to observe what is more or less a test of her readiness, and one she intends to pass. Where she would have expected to feel nervous, she’s excited, ever the eager student motivated to impress and exceed expectations. Ben kills the daytime lights to make it look and feel like it would if they were open, and her set begins.

Moving onto the stage, she can barely see her audience with the bright lights trained on her. She quickly gets lost in the movements she rehearsed, feeling graceful as she circles the pole and hitches an arm around it, spinning in a feathery arc. When the point in the dance comes to remove her shirt, she does so as a well practiced step in a strategy, without any feelings of exposure. Soon enough her bra follows suit and she is left with only her tiny pink shorts, nipples hardening as they graze the pole. The undulation of her hips, the pop of her booty out towards the audience, the slip of a hand down the inside of her thigh; they’re each a part of the method. Precisely planned and executed in much the same way as she might dismantle and clean her gun, or prepare a slide for the microscope. It isn’t much different than performing an autopsy, she had reasoned. Except instead of: Y incision, open rib cage, remove organs, examine stomach contents, collect specimens, examine brain, it’s: arch back, grasp breasts, spread legs, thrust pelvis, rub thighs, grind on the pole. She’s always found her strength in taking a clinical, detached approach to difficult tasks, and that turns out to be just as effective on the stage as it is in the lab.

As she finishes, her small audience erupts into applause, standing in ovation as Ben brings the house lights up halfway. Scully smiles shyly, stepping down to join them on the floor as Ricky approaches her and slings an arm around her bare shoulders.

“That was fucking fantastic, Desi. Sexy as fuck. Let me see you do a lap dance now.”

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#the x files #txf #dana scully #fox mulder #gillovny #msr #sculder #x files #case file #case fic #x files fanfic

[a-libra-writes]

Salt & Snow - Chapter 6

Ships: Ned Stark x Reader, Brandon Stark x Reader (?)

Summary: Ned finally returns to his childhood home, to the happiness of his siblings and Y/N ... though she’s also beside herself with nerves. As it turns out, the two of them are awkward teenagers.

Use this chrome extension to replace “Y/N” with a different name :)

“That’s the last of it, milord.” The servant tightened the leather straps on the wooden trunk, ensuring they were secure. Once satisfied, he nodded to the guide that would be taking the young Lord Stark down the mountain. The man was withered, but he expertly steered his mules, or so they said. Ned hadn’t realized how many possessions he’d collected in his years in the Eyrie, and felt bad for making the beasts carry so much.

The old mountain guide said it was fine, and it wouldn’t unbalance them. “You worry about stayin’ on that mule, milord. When’s the last time you descended?”

He thought about it. “Four years, mayhaps more.”

“Aye, it’s much the same. It’s still spring, it will warm quickly as we go down.” The old man guided him to one of the mules, a shaggy, dark brown one with long ears. Ned thought it was cute in an ugly way, and climbed up. He kept his eyes forward, ignoring how the Eyrie hung above them. He remembered the first time he climbed up here, terrified he’d fall the entire way, and then afraid the Eyrie would somehow fall from the sky and plummet to the ground.

I’ll be the one doing the plummeting, if this beast missteps. Ned was mostly, probably confident that wouldn’t happen. He wondered what sort of mule they gave Robert, the beast of a man. He couldn’t imagine his friend sitting quietly for the better part of the day. That thought made him smile a little, and sigh. Robert left a month ago, and now it was his turn. It was a bittersweet goodbye to Robert and then to Lord Arryn. The first month I couldn’t stop thinking about Winterfell, how I wanted to go back. It hurts to leave now.

It hurt, but it was time to go. He wanted to see his family again, to see Winterfell, and the godswood, and Wintertown and the forest surrounding them. He’d smell pines and fresh earth again — gods know the Eyrie sorely lacked in both — and the animals that ran through those woods. He wondered what had changed, what was the same.

Suddenly, Ned recalled a letter where Y/N described the repairs on one of the towers, the old one that was slowly crumbling. That made him remember the last one he sent, and he covered his face with a groan.

“Doing well, milord?” The guide asked, looking back. “Don’t look down.”

Ned merely nodded, glad the guide and the other servants were too busy navigating to notice his stupid face. Why had he written that? Why did he send it? She must be think he was an utter fool. She hadn’t even sent anything back yet.

No, letters are slow to the Eyrie, and I’m leaving, besides — perhaps it was lost.

The thought of Lord Arryn receiving it and sending it back was mortifying, even if the man would never read it. For days Ned’s mind had been racing about Robert’s departure, his own journey, and the stupid words he wrote down. He’d repeated them so many times in his head, hoping he was misremembering.

He groaned and laid his head on the neck of the mule. It smelled awful, but he stayed there. Y/N must have thought him a complete fool, how would he face her once he came home? It would be a long, long journey.

What in the seven hells did he mean by that?

Y/N stared at the words, her eyes running over them, which was a pointless act. She’d memorized these lines in particular, able to recall them in spite of her attempts to keep busy. She hadn’t responded, because how could she? Anytime she sat down and began to dab her quill, the butterflies battered against her stomach. She’d set her quill on the page, watching the ink soak into the paper, but Y/N only managed a few sentences before fumbling, misspelling a word, dripping ink everywhere and just giving up. She’d thrown several pages into the fire already.

I’m being ridiculous, I’m overthinking. Aren’t I? Hasn’t he always said kind things to me? Why is this different?

A week ago, Y/N dug through her box of letters saved over the years, hoping to assure herself. That was a mistake. She read through things she’d forgotten, phrases she remembered, looked over the little drawings he attempted, and her butterflies became relentless. She had to put the letters away and spent the entire day flustered and distracted.

She rubbed at her face and sighed heavily. She put the letter out of sight, knowing it wouldn’t be out of mind for a while. She ought to stop procrastinating, to send something back already; it’d been almost three weeks. Or was it four? She’d been procrastinating with everything imaginable — long boring books, needlework, studying maps, playing music, even riding.

I have to answer eventually. I really am thinking too much. Just write something safe! Something boring!

Instead of doing that, Y/N left her room and looked for something to do. Perhaps if she could talk about her feelings it would help, but she couldn’t. Not even to Lyanna. Her friend had stopped reading the letters, preferring to send her own, and Y/N was sure they weren’t as frequent… That, and she couldn’t imagine letting anyone read what she wrote or drew now.

Is it strange, how often we write? Has anyone noticed?  A little voice nagged at Y/N. She and Ned were well past the age of innocent friendly correspondence. She didn’t speak much about it, secretly worried she’d be told to stop. The idea of getting “caught” wasn’t pleasant, but the idea of stopping was worse. The correspondence had become a comfort, a way to raise her spirits, warmth and confidence in her heart. She understood how some would find that emotion improper.

A servant hurried past Y/N, nearly hitting her and knocking her right out of her thoughts. The boy called an apology and kept running. In the great hall, she saw half a dozen men moving boxes, and one of the elder servants giving them orders. Savory smells came from the kitchen, and peaking inside, Y/N saw the cooks and their girls busy chopping and stewing.

She tried to recall the last time Winterfell was this abuzz. The death of Lady Stark cast a dreary curtain over the castle, and while it was gradually lifting, a feast still felt out of place. Brandon was away again, but there was never a big to-do for his return.

“Found you!” Lyanna called to her, and Y/N jumped. It was absurd how much she’d been lost in her head as of late. She was glad Lyanna didn’t tease her; instead, the girl asked, “Why is everyone so restless today?”

“I was just thinking that. Did you see the kitchens? I can’t imagine why we’d need so much sausage and stew.”

“They’re making dessert, too! I’d ask my father, but I can’t find him anywere.” As they talked, Lyanna and Y/N walked outside to one of the many yards inside Winterfell’s walls. Just like inside, there was a flurry of activity, things being moved and cleaned. Lyanna said half the horses had been taken, perhaps on a hunt for fresh stag. A sudden thought struck her, and she turned on her heels to face Y/N, nearly knocking the girl over in the process. “Y/N, what if… what if my father finally decided—?”

“He didn’t,” Y/N replied instantly. “He would tell you, Lyanna. It won’t be a surprise. Maybe something happened and he’s gathering some bannermen on short notice; maybe it’s about Brandon’s wedding. He has been gone for the better part of a month.”

“That’s all true,” Lyanna said, although she didn’t sound comforted. “Perhaps Father is entertaining some ladies for him. Oh, gods, we’ll have to make smalltalk with them…”

They sat on one of the many carts strewn about the yard, following the activity. Predictably, Y/N’s mind wandered to Ned, and she kept her sigh from escaping. She glanced at Lyanna, half-listening to her friend chatter about a hedge knight that visited months ago. He showed off some jousting in the yard for their amusement, and Lyanna was still enamored. Y/N’s thoughts were wholly preoccupied with the terrifying idea of telling her about the letters, the ones that had gradually become far less proper and more personal.

Suddenly Lyanna asked, “Did you have any plans today?”

“I have a feeling if I did, you’d pull me away.” Y/N said. “Why?”

“Do you still have your old brown cloak?”

Those grey eyes were gleaming with some sort of mischief. Perhaps it was the restlessness of the people around them, or her own anxious thoughts… but rather than steer away from trouble, Y/N turned toward it.

There were small collections of cottages directly outside the walls of Winterfell, mostly farmers and butchers who directly served the castle, and offered board to travelers during the large feasts. But if someone really wanted to find something interesting, they’d go to Wintertown. These were the more prosperous smallfolk, the merchants, innkeeps, blacksmiths, and so on. There was even a small sept, although most Northern townspeople had little use for it. Y/N had come here only a dozen times; to go, she and Lyanna would need an escort, and Brandon wasn’t eager to follow two silly girls around.

As far as they were concerned, the matter of an escort was silly now that they were women. Lyanna had no fear as she put on an old cotton dress and her grey cloak, while Y/N wore her brown and black dress she saved for riding and a deep blue cloak. Y/N tucked her pearl and jewelry away, and Lyanna pulled her own dark brown hair out of its braid until it was all around her shoulders, wild and free. The girls snuck quietly out into the yard, avoiding servants and guards, then drew their hoods up once they reached the gates. They waited, then Y/N pointed. Three sworn guards were distracted with a complaining merchant, and they slipped past the gate.

Once outside, they kept their hoods up, but giggled to one another. After walking a mile, they came across a farmer on the way to Wintertown, and asked if they could ride in his cart. The old man squinted at them, trying to focus his gaze.

“Are ye girls the swineherder’s daughters? Jeyne and … Milly, was it?”

“That’s our names. Can you take us to town?” Lyanna asked, putting on a false voice. When the old man agreed, she grinned so broadly, Y/N had to nudge her and give her a warning look. They hopped into the back of the cart and chatted while it swayed and hobbled along. The last time, it was an hour of walking before a cart passed by.

It’s good to see her like this, happy again. Y/N thought, glancing to her friend as Lyanna chatted. It’s been a dreary six moons. Or has it been longer?

Lyanna hadn’t been herself the whole time. Since her mother died, everything was bleaker. For the first moon, she just wanted to stay inside. After that she’d go out riding for hours at a time, and for once, Lord Stark didn’t scold her for it. Sometimes she’d rage, pick fights with Brandon or a guardman’s boy. Sometimes she’d just stay in bed. Those days were always the bad ones, Y/N knew, and she’d stay with her, writing or drawing or doing needlework while Lyanna laid there.

They’d get far worse than a scolding if they were caught at this game, but she just wanted Lyanna to be happy again. Wintertown was in sight, and they thanked the old man and hopped off his cart, too excited to wait for his mules to take them any farther. Y/N took Lyanna’s arm so they’d at least stay together, and they were off.

Just like the last time they visited, the town was buzzing. Thoughts of Ned’s words and Lyanna’s sadness quickly faded in the back of Y/N’s mind as they followed whatever interested them. A girl half their height was herding a group of sheep through the middle of a wide street, a woman was selling bolts of impossibly colorful fabric and thread, a blacksmith was loudly working on a sword. The girls watched all of it.

“Wait!” Y/N patted Lyanna’s arm excitedly, distracting her from the molten-hot red sword and the hammer that was beating down on it. “Do you see that?” She pointed.

Lyanna squinted. “That stall over there?”

“Yes, let’s hurry! Maybe he still has some!”

“What are you talking about?” Lyanna laughed, but followed along. She quickly realized why Y/N was so excited: There was a variety of colorful, fresh vegetables, but more importantly… fruit.

“You buying?” The man asked warily, mistaking them for the lowborn girls they were dressed as. Back in their bedchamber, Y/N had to remind Lyanna to tuck away her direwolf pin. “I’m selling, not giving. You girls got coin?”

Y/N ignored his tone and asked, “Are these from White Harbor? My father worked the docks.”

“That so? He on one of the merman’s ships, or the ray’s?”

“The manta ray, at the Whitetide docks.”

The man grinned, showing some missing teeth. He nodded his head like he was familiar with this mystery sailor. “Aye, with Lord Caspian’s fleet? His ships are good ones. These fruit come all the way from Dorne and the Arbor, but they’re still fresh.”

Y/N could see that. Her heart was racing at the sight of peaches, oranges, limes, figs… of course, Lyanna’s eyes went straight to the lemons. She giggled and shook her head. “They’re better when they’re baked in cakes. Have you had an orange before?”

“Never. Let’s get some. Four, if we could?” Lyanna asked the man, and he handed them over. Four was all he had, and Y/N paid, feeling a little sorry for taking so many. She wondered if the common folk could afford fruits. This cold preserved them well.

They walked around the market idly, more interested in the treats they just acquired. Y/N taught Lyanna how to peel the orange and the wolf-girl was delighted with how sweet and juicy they were. “This is wonderful! Why aren’t we baking these into cakes?”

“I suppose someone tried, and it didn’t work out well,” Y/N mused. “My mother liked to squeeze them into her water, or she’d just drink the juice itself. When you preserve the peels and dry them, you can scatter them amongst your things to make them smell good.” She thought about her mother’s hugs, and her favorite parlor, and the strong smell of citrus and exotic flowers that permeated both. She was a Northern woman, but took to the wonders of Dorne and Essos and the Reach, little treasures brought in on her husband’s ships. It was how her father courted her: With baskets of fruit, tropical flowers, strings of pearls and giant conch shells. Y/N smiled, remembering how her mother lit up when she told her about it.

“I can promise you, my little pearl, one day you will have such kindnesses paid by someone who truly adores you.”

“You know so many things. All I know is passable dancing, and horses.” Lyanna said, breaking Y/N’s reverie, of which she was grateful for. The Stark girl rubbed at her chin where some juices at dribbled, and Y/N handed her a handkerchief.

“You know swords and lances well.”

“Aye, but I’m not allowed to use them.” Lyanna frowned, but it didn’t look like her mood was lowering. She eagerly bit into a second orange instead. Y/N sighed and put the handkerchief back into her reticule.

“Can I have the peels?” She asked.

“Are you going to put them into my riding boots?”

“Gods, I’d need a bushel to mask that scent.”

Lyanna didn’t want to throw her precious orange, so she settled for lunging and chasing Y/N instead. Y/N shrieked and ran, glad for the headstart: Lyanna had to chew and swallow her orange pieces properly before tearing after her. Lyanna’s old dress was short enough that she didn’t have to pull up the skirts, but Y/N had the lighter cloak. She shrieked again as Lyanna grasped for it, but missed. “I’ll get you for that!” The girl hollered. “Come back, Y/N!”

They laughed and chased each other around the town like children, and no one cared. Some older women noticed and scowled, and a few children laughed and followed for a while, but no one stopped them. No one grabbed their ears and admonished them for the messy hair, dirty clothes and sticky orange-flavored fingers. They were little girls again, not proper ladies of five and ten, daughters of Stark and Caspian.

Y/N stopped suddenly, then yelped as Lyanna tackled her to the ground. She squirmed and coughed. “Lyanna! You’ll kill me!”

“Don’t start fights you can’t finish!” Lyanna responded. She realized Y/N was still winded and moved off her. “Oh, are you hurt?”

“No,” Y/N sat up and blinked the dust out of her eyes. Satisfied, Lyanna flicked an orange peel at her. Y/N picked it off her lap and ate it. Lyanna made a face, like Y/N just ate the peel of a lemon — then she remembered she saw her friend do that, too.

“Do you hear that?” Y/N asked. It was the entire reason she stopped. Both girls kept still and listened. They were on the edge of Wintertown, their game taking them to the very end of it. Out here was a few modest homes and small gardens, a crumbling wall, and the road leading to Winterfell.

“Horses,” Lyanna said. She listened. “Several of them, moving at once. It’s probably a retinue.”

“Is it Brandon? I can’t recall when he was supposed to come home.”

“It would be bad for Brandon to find us like this and tell father,” Lyanna said, but she laughed. She was like her old self today. Suddenly, she said, “Oh. We should have saved an orange for Ben.”

“But not Brandon?”

“His Lordliness can get fruit whenever he wants. He can ride to the Reach and pick it himself.” Lyanna scoffed. She stood up, pulled Y/N to her feet and they both dusted their dresses and cloaks off. The horses were closer now, easy to hear without them staying quiet. It had to be Brandon, or a nearby lord. It was too much commotion for farmers bringing food.

The girls walked to the crumbling wall and crouched down, eager to peek at the banners. They weren’t foolish enough to openly stare, even if this was Wintertown, they weren’t entirely safe. Y/N had a vague thought that Lyanna might have a dagger in her boot, but that wasn’t real protection. She kicked herself for not bringing something of her own, even if she had no idea how to use it.

“They’re taking their time,” Lyanna muttered. “Has to be a lord. A lordling wouldn’t bring so many wagons, and a merchant wouldn’t be so slow. If it is Brandon, let’s throw rocks.”

“Let’s not.”

“Fine, a single rock. I won’t hit his horse, she deserves better. It could always be Ser Roderick, or the Pooles. Maybe even Cerwyn —”

Y/N pulled her back, lower against the stone wall. “Shh.”

Two horses passed, carrying modestly protected Northern guards. Then four more guards followed, dressed in different leather and armor. Y/N squinted, not recognizing the arms on their surcoats. It wasn’t anyone sworn to House Stark. Then, what they wanted: The banners.

One man held a direwolf, and another one held a blue falcon. Lyanna shot up, and Y/N stumbled, as she was still holding onto her.

Then she looked up, and jumped to her feet just as Lyanna had. They both stared.

It was Brandon, as they guessed, and someone else. They rode ahead, followed by a few more men, one of them a fully-armored knight who wore the crest of a sky-blue and white falcon.

“Ned!!”

Lyanna was gone. She tore across a small field to the road, and the guards stopped all at once, their hands flying to their hips. That action snapped Y/N to attention, but she could only stand and stare. She watched the boy — no, young man — beside Brandon turn in his saddle, and his grey eyes lit up with surprise and happiness.

Y/N thought someone was sitting on her chest, then something was trying to get out of it. She was choked up, the world was spinning, and she could barely hear the words Lyanna, Ned and Brandon were all saying. Lyanna nearly jumped up on the horse, but Ned swiftly dismounted. He only had a moment before he was being strangled in a hug.

Brandon got down from his horse and said something to the guards. The horses shook their heads at the commotion but Lyanna shouted again, and two of the knights laughed, and Y/N was still.

Then Ned looked up over his sister’s head, and met eyes with her. Y/N took a step forward, then another. She forgot she was wearing an old dress, a cloak that was now dirty from running about, that her hair was out of a normally tamed and styled braid. Ned held out his hand, as though she was close and not ten or fifteen feet away.

Y/N shyly walked down the field to the road, trying not to look at the guards, or Brandon. Lyanna pulled away from Ned and grabbed her arm, pulling her the last two feet. “What are you doing, Y/N? Come over here!”

She was pushed in front of him. He was different in some ways, but not many. Brandon towered above him and Lyanna was just a little shorter. Y/N smiled at that, but quickly looked to her hands, which smelled of oranges and still had a little stickiness on them.

“It’s good to see you again,” Y/N could only say. She thought of all the clever and interesting words she sent before, and how they were failing her horribly now. Her mind scrambled for something to say, something she had written before, something good, but it was all jumbled.

She didn’t look at Ned as he replied, “It’s good to see you too, Y/N.”

It was quiet, like they were the only ones, but that was quickly interrupted. Brandon was beside them, loudly teasing, “It’s Lady Y/N, brother. I thought the South was supposed to teach you all those stuffy manners.”

“She’s always been Y/N to us,” Lyanna rolled her eyes. “More importantly, were you and father keeping this a secret?”

Her brother replied with a small smile. “Yes, it… it was supposed to be a surprise. I never imagined we’d meet you here.”

“And why are you two here?” Brandon crossed his arms. His good humor quickly left, as if he just took in their location and their clothes. He looked at Lyanna, then Y/N, and kept his attention on the latter. “Did you sneak out without a guard? Do you know how dangerous that can be? And why are you dressed like that?”

Y/N self-consciously pulled at her cloak as he questioned them, remembering the state she was in. Brandon’s words didn’t bother her, it was the realization that Ned hadn’t seen her in years, and this is what he saw as soon as he came back. Didn’t I have silly daydreams of him seeing me in the gown I made, or a new one? Why am I even thinking about that?

She was glad Lyanna and Brandon got into a little spat, to hide her embarrassment. She stepped behind Lyanna, half to shield herself, half to put some distance between her and Ned. She was steadily being overcome with an urge to hug him — wouldn’t that be natural? He was home now, but … it wasn’t that simple. So, she kept at Lyanna’s side, redirecting her attention on calming her friend.

“When I tell father about this, he’ll have words to say, especially since tonight he wants to hold a feast —”

“— If you tell him, I’ll tell about all that extra time you spend at the Rills!”

“It’s my job as heir to visit our bannermen and listen to their grievances!”

“Oh, yes, the pretty Ryswell daughters have much to say, I’m sure —”

Brandon went red and was ready to retort hotly, when Ned cleared his throat. He inclined his head to the men around them, all visibly impatient. Ned himself had some of that energy as he said, “Let’s go home.”

The way he said it, how could anyone continue to argue? Brandon stopped at once, knowing it had been years since his little brother had seen Winterfell properly. He patted him affectionately on the back, and Lyanna beamed. Y/N met eyes with Ned again, and they both turned away.

Brandon took his horse’s bridle. “Whose riding with whomst?”

“I’ll ride with Ned!” Lyanna blurted excitedly, and disappointment shot through Y/N so quickly, she felt a little sick. Don’t be stupid. That’s her brother, and she’ll just quarrel with Brandon, besides.

Brandon offered her a hand and easily swept her up on his horse. He asked if she was comfortable before swinging up himself, settling in like it was as easy as sitting in a chair. The problem is he put her in front, so his arms were loosely around her as he gathered his reins. Nervous as she was around these beasts, Y/N almost preferred riding behind him, although that was not always considered proper for a lady. Y/N had to hold onto him, especially with how far up she was. Brandon had a fine old destrier, once a great warhorse, still mighty and tall in her old age. She was perfect for taking him around the North, but Y/N thought she was entirely too big.

Lyanna happily settled in behind Ned instead of in front of him. Again, Y/N met his eyes. He had expressions that said so much, especially since he himself said little. She couldn’t read this one, though. Brandon called out, “Move on!” and the small escort went on the road. Y/N was thankful for the easy pace, and the steady gait of the destrier.

Her nervousness slowly settled as the four of them made conversation, with the Vale knight occasionally speaking up. Before long, the walls of Winterfell appeared before them, the proud white banners flying above. Ned looked up at the direwolf, and Y/N could swear some fatigue just melted right off him. The gates opened, and the guards keeping their station happily called to the boys, not noticing the state Lord Stark’s daughter and his ward were in. By the time their escort entered the yard, several servants, men-at-arms and children had come to see Ned come home.

Benjen pushed through all of them, eagerly running at his older brother. There was no shortage of hugs as Lyanna, Benjen and Ned reunited, while Brandon helped Y/N off the horse. Unlike his oldest brother, Benjen hadn’t developed an avoidance to his sister and her companion. He was only two years younger than them, and looked hurt as he said, “You all met him without me!”

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” Ned said again. “I crossed Brandon on the road by chance, and then these two—”

“Isn’t it a wonderful coincidence?” Lyanna grinned. She was still standing close to Ned, all but hanging off him. Y/N allowed Benjen to squeeze past her to get to Ned.

While the three chattered, Y/N asked Brandon, “You truly didn’t know? Where were you coming from?”

“Returning from the Karstarks. Father didn’t tell me a thing.”

Lyanna and Benjen began dragging Ned to the great hall, and now servants and guards started gathering, having realized who he was and all were eager to see him. Y/N smiled, pleased he was so missed… and only slightly glad he was moving further from her. She was anxious of what would happen if they were in a small group again, or worse, alone. She almost wanted to stay behind, but Brandon called to her, lingering back so she could catch up.

Being alone happened far sooner than Y/N anticipated.

The next morning, she stepped carefully through the snow, watching for roots just slightly sticking out. The sun was beginning to peak over the stone walls, helping her navigate the quiet yard. This route wasn’t yet familiar to her. She’d only made it recently, and often without Lyanna. Her friend wanted to mourn in quiet.

Y/N descended into the crypts. She shuddered instantly, feeling a far stronger cold take hold of her. Her footsteps echoed off the stone and she walked steadily toward her destination, passing statues of long dead Lord Starks and their sons.

Lady Lyarra did not have a sculpted sepulcher, but she had a beautiful tomb and marker for her bones. Y/N held her reticule close, bringing it to her nose so she could smell the crisp, dried oranges and give herself peace of mind. She hadn’t even visited her own family’s crypt.

She gasped as the shadows shuddered, nearly dropping the dried peels. The torches were scattered about, some not lit, making the shadows grow and recede with every second. She heard something just a few feet away.

Y/N bit down a curse as Ned came into view, the shadows circling around him. He blinked at her, his grey eyes almost looking black in the limited light.

“Y/N?”

“Y-You scared me,” She shuddered. “I didn’t — I didn’t think there would be anyone here.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I…” Y/N paused. She couldn’t seem to steady her heart, not with Ned looking directly at her. He was so much taller than before. She turned away. “I wanted to pay my respects. To give a gift.”

He didn’t respond right away. Y/N thought of the letters, of the reassurances, the kindnesses she sent him when he finally heard the news of his mother’s passing.

Why was it failing her now? She squeezed the fabric bag between her fingers.

“You brought something for her?” Ned asked quietly. “Could I see?”

Y/N nodded. She stepped closer, but not enough to feel any warmth from him. The cold of the crypt was cooling her nerves. “Orange peels. I dried them. They… they smell nice.”

She felt foolish, but he smiled. It was slight, but it was there.

“This way.” He said. He took a torch off the wall and led her deeper in. Y/N forgot how far it truly was. The Starks had been dying for centuries, and soon they would have to dig deeper into the cave to make space for the future generations. Lyarra was buried next to her parents, neither of who had a statue either.

There were fresh blue roses on the grave, and older, smaller blossoms that had begun to dry and decay. Y/N recalled Benjen brought those. She arranged the orange peels neatly, happy with the fragrance they gave off in addition to the roses. Ned must have brought those.

She quietly prayed, and Ned kept quiet beside her, perhaps joining her, perhaps not. When she finished, her hands fell to her side. Her cold, bare fingers brushed with Ned’s, and she felt the soft wool of his gloves. His finger hooked around one of her’s, and she curled it.

“Ned, I don’t presume to know your feelings, but I can only imagine how much you must hurt. If I could only help — if you were only right here, instead of far away —”

“When I home come, I want to see you, and do all the things we said we would do. I want to watch you paint, and dance, and maybe ride a horse — because I know Lyanna will make us — but most of all, I want to hear your voice.”

Y/N felt her throat was dry, but she stayed put, wondering if her heartbeat could be heard bouncing off the walls. She knew if she looked at him, even with a glance, she’d lose all composure and just run away.

She almost did that, when a loud noise made them both jump nearly two feet apart. Ned instantly took her hand back to push her behind him, then touched his sword. He grasped the hilt and lifted it just an inch out of the scabbard.

“Gods!” Y/N let out a hard breath. The skinny orange cat that knocked the unlit brazier over. It didn’t have coal in it, but it still made a terrible racket. The cat hissed and ran back into the shadows.

“I see he’s still here,” Ned mumbled. He set his sword back, and his shoulders were still tight. “Damned creature.”

“He gets lost down here so often. If he were kinder, I’d carry him out.”

“If it’s the same orange cat from when I was a boy, he’d rather freeze to death than be touched for even a moment.”

Silly smiles graced their faces, in spite of where they were, in spite of why they came in the first place. Ned nervously touched the hilt of his sword. “Shall we return?”

As they stepped out of the crypt, Y/N had to lift her skirts to climb the stairs easier. Ned offered his hand, and she took it for the last few steps. He didn’t immediately let go, and she didn’t comment on it. Instead she asked, “Did they make you learn those manners in the South?”

“There’s all sorts of manners and noble bearing they expect. It’s exhausting,” Ned admitted with a shy expression, and Y/N couldn’t help but imagine him trying some sort of silly, formal dance she’d heard about.

“Give me an example.”

He stared at their connected hands, his ears and cheeks slowly growing redder. Y/N didn’t pull away, even if her own body was threatening to explode with nerves and heat.

She expected him to kiss her hand, like she’d hear the other girls gossip about. She felt his warm lips against her fingers, through her thin gloves, and it made her jolt. Some of his brown hair brushed against her arm. I might well and truly die now.

Ned coughed and hastily turned away from her, utterly embarrassed at his own behavior. “Th-that’s what Lord Arryn… what Lord Arryn said to do when … when meeting a lady…”

“Are you kissing other ladies?” She couldn’t help it. She giggled, the warmth in her chest bubbling up to her lips. Her hand felt like it was on fire. “Should I be jealous, Ned?”

Ned covered his face with his hands, and she laughed. She covered her own face to settle her silly, foolish giddiness. “Of course not,” He grumbled. “You’re the only one I ever spoke to, besides.”

“Oh, you must have talked to some in the Eyrie.”

“Some.” Ned’s grey eyes glanced to her. She met his gaze, and they held it as he continued, “Though I kept wishing you were there.”

Y/N had to look away again. She couldn’t giggle, her throat was stuck, her chest hurt and she hated how tongue-tied she was. She never imagined it would be this hard — whatever this was —

“What in the seven hells are you both doing?”

Looking through her fingers, Y/N watched Brandon saunter up to them. The older Stark tilted his head to his brother.

Ned could only manage to suspiciously avoid looking at him. Brandon glanced between them, and Y/N felt like she had done something wrong. She quickly said, “We were visiting the crypt to pay our respects.”

Brandon’s face fell, and he said little else. Y/N understood it would be time for breakfast soon, and the morning sun had long broken over the tall stone walls. The three of them walked back to the keep together, Brandon pointedly putting himself between Y/N and Ned.

#ned stark x reader #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #salt & snow #libra fics

[wwilloww]

cliff diving pt. 3 | kth (m)

genre: fluff. smut. nonidol!au. camping!au.

pairings: Taehyung | Reader

rating: 18+. NSFW. Explicit.

word count: 6.4k

warnings: cursing. talk of sex. skinny dipping. spooning. grinding. dirty talk. hair pulling. public nudity. public sex. oral sex (f giving and recieving). slight exhibitionism. unprotected sex (okay guys, you know the drill, wrap it before you tap it). creampie.

summary: Every year as soon as the weather warms up, your friends haul ass out of the city to the mountains where you camp and hike in the shadow of giant rocks and ancient evergreens—and now apparently jump off of cliffs for fun. This time, an innocent round of truth or dare inspires you and Tae to play a mischievous game without getting caught by your friends.

a/n:  THE FINAL CHAPTER. Who woulda thunk this piece would end up so long. Thank you so much to everyone who helped with this series, especially the always lovely @ot7always, who beta read the final chapter. This has been my baby for the past month, so if you’ve enjoyed it, it would absolutely make my day to hear from you!  

<- previous chapter || series masterlist ||

©️WWILLOWW DO NOT TRANSLATE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORK

Chapter Three

“The fire is dying down faster than I thought,” Jungkook frowns as he pokes the dwindling flames with a stick.

You had long since dried off from your swim and now the five of you were huddled around the fire, laughing and exchanging stories. It almost seemed normal. Almost as if nothing had changed. Taehyung kept a respectable distance from you, knowing Jin was periodically glancing over at the two of you.

“I’ll grab some more firewood from the car,” you say, standing up from your chair and placing your steaming mug of tea on the ground.

As you walk away from the fire and the distraction of your friends, you finally have a moment to breathe and reflect. Within your chest, you feel as if you are being split in two. Your heartbeat echoes through your body, unrelenting in its pace. Now that you know he wants you, a floodgate has opened, pumping elation and excitement through your veins with each beat of your heart. Yet, something akin to shame sings beneath your skin, turning your cheeks red and pressing your nails into the skin of your palm. What if you had taken things too far?

In the heat of the moment, it hadn’t felt wrong. He had melted into your body like he belonged there. You’d never been kissed like that before, kissed like he knew you, like he understood every curve and desire of your body. You run your finger over your lips, the lower one still pink and swollen from Taehyung’s ministrations.

It was the most natural thing to allow him to wrap himself around you, and yet, you feel frozen at the thought of what could possibly lay beyond this.  

“Tae, why don’t you help her?” Jin suggests, his gaze flickering between the two of you as you near the edge of camp. “Bring enough back for hot water in the morning.”

Taehyung’s mouth opens and closes, before he mutters a hurried, “Sure,” and rises from his chair to follow after you, jogging to catch up. You smile up at him when he comes to your side.

The car is parked a short distance away from the campsite, short enough you’re not worried about lugging piles of wood back and far enough that you’re not concerned anyone will overhear you.

“Do you think Jin saw anything?” Taehyung snickers in your ear.

You giggle.

“No, I think he would have said something if he did.”

“And what would he say?”

“Ah...um,” you flounder, smiling up at Taehyung’s grinning face as you reach the car. “Don’t be stupid?”

Suddenly large hands are firm on your waist and Tae spins you around, your back hitting the metal of the car.

He’s close. Awfully close. He presses you up against the car, his chest pushed to yours.

“Is it stupid?”

“I, uh—” Your eyes widen as he stares down at you, unmoving, a look of curiosity flashing across your face.

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, eyes tracing the slight pout to his lips, a delicious pink. “Yeah, it’s pretty stupid.”

He reaches up to tug on a strand of hair that’s fallen loose from your messy bun. It’s a familiar gesture—one that he’s done for years—but now it sends a shiver down your spine.

“Why’s that?”

“You, mister, are pushing your luck,” you say, avoiding the question. “The others are right over there.” As much as you want to reach up and pull him against you, there is a lingering tension that what you’re doing is dangerous, risky. So instead of wrapping your arms around his neck, you push gently against his chest and grin up at him as he leans closer to you. The all-too-familiar habit of teasing one another, mixed with the novelty of the warmth of his hands against your skin—the combination sucks the air right out of your lungs.

“Would this be pushing my luck?” He leans down towards you, stopping only when his lips are an inch away and his gaze is locked on yours.

“Yes,” you whisper.

“Because I kind of want to push it.”

Your heart all but stops. Your body is screaming for this. All you can think of is the way he felt against you earlier, the way you didn’t need to think of anything else with him wrapped around you, the way nothing mattered except for keeping him close.

Fuck it, you think.

“Then push it,” you breathe, closing the distance between you two.

There is a moment when all you can feel is the pillowy plush of his lips. However, the spell is quickly broken as he nips your bottom lip gently between his teeth and you gasp. His lips are feverish as he presses against you, pulling you as tightly to him as he can. Palms spread wide against your back, dark curls tickling your forehead, his breath heavy against your mouth.

“Taehyung,” you breathe against his lips, tightening the grip you have around his waist. But instead of leaning into you like you had wanted him to, he’s pulling back, his irises blown wide, lips slightly swollen.

“Do you really think this is stupid?”

You pause for a moment, searching his gaze.

“I don’t want to—”

Your sentence is cut short as you hear footsteps quickly approaching. Taehyung steps back from you just as Jimin jogs into view.

“Do you guys need any help?”

“Yeah, that would be great,” Taehyung beams as he opens up the trunk to hand Jimin a pile of firewood. Taehyung hands you an almost too-large stack and smiles softly at you before turning and heading back to camp.

I don’t want to get hurt, you finish internally as you watch his tall frame silhouetted against the campfire. I don’t want to lose you.

That night, you lie awake without Tahyunge’s hands on you. Jin and Jimin had stayed up, whispering who knows what to each other around the campfire. Taehyung, seemingly wary of their lingering gaze, had become unusually shy, averting his gaze from you and instead focusing on your other friends.

After you climb into the tent, Taehyung quickly falls fast asleep, clear by the even pace of his breath and the slackness in his jaw. But even after Jin and Jimin crawl into their sleeping bags and settle down for the night, you lie wide awake.

You wonder if you should reach over, if you should roll just a little closer to him. You’ve never craved someone’s touch like this. You’ve never let the thought of someone wrap so devastatingly around your mind. If only he would fucking wrap himself around me.

You hold back a groan, split in half between sexual and emotional frustration.

Through the mesh in the tent, you can see the stars blinking down at you. This far out in the mountains, the stars sing with a strength and clarity you don’t get to see anywhere else. Looking up at them, you feel so very small.

Could there be beauty in this kind of smallness? The quickness of your life, like dew on a rose—magnifying and drawing attention to the color it exists upon, only resting for a moment before the day begins—doesn’t that smallness, in the same moment it may make your life feel insignificant, make it all the more precious?

You close your eyes and feel your breath wash through you.

This smallness—this insignificance—this all-consuming feeling—is precious to you.

This thing with Taehyung—you aren’t quite sure how else to describe it—scares you. As you look in on the feelings that rise in you, as you look forward to that which is still to come, all you know is that you don’t know. And then it strikes you.

In looking over the sharp edge at a dark unknown, there is an indescribable—but undeniable—beauty. To take that step? To take that risk? In that moment you realize that it is not what waits on the other side, but the act of stepping into empty air, the act of jumping, that is what holds the mystifying beauty of life. This is the thing that takes the smallness of a single moment and stretches it as large as a lifetime.

Knowing this makes the decision for you. You roll over on your side and nuzzle into Taehyung’s chest. The mix of his familiar musk—the perfect combination of juniper and his signature cologne, a little faded from the mix of campfire and coffee grounds, eases the tight feeling in your chest. Just enough.

Sleep comes quickly. As that dark shore approaches, you feel a large and gentle hand wrap tightly around your waist.

You wake with a start to Tae shaking you gently.

Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to say something but he covers it with a large hand and places a finger over his lips.

“I want to show you something,” he whispers. “Will you come with me?” You nod, a sleepy smile spreading across your features as you rub the night out of your eyes. With one hand he holds out your bathing suit, which you quickly, but confusedly, slip on. Despite all the times that you two had changed in front of one another, he averts his gaze like he had yesterday.

It’s still dark outside as you crawl as quietly as possible over the piles of clothes and sleeping bags in your shared tent, doing your very best to not wake the others.

As Tae unzips the tent, you hear a groan and the ruffling of nylon behind you.

“Tae—?” Jimin’s sleep-fogged voice cuts through the darkness. He’s barely lifted his head but he’s staring directly at the two of you, eyes narrowed and heavy with sleep.

“Shh, Jiminie,” Tae sings, his voice like a lullaby. “Go back to sleep.”

“Okay.” Jimin lets his head fall back. You breathe a sigh of relief. As you climb out of the tent and slip your shoes on, you find something warm and tingly spreading through your chest: excitement.

As you take in the dark shadow of the mountains against the lightening backdrop of the sky, Tae wraps himself around your back, arms coming around to settle securely by your collarbone.

“I love how you’re keeping quiet for me,” he whispers, and the words shoot straight through your body. “I wonder what else you’ll do if I ask.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice and you fight the habit to shy away from his attention. He bends down, his hair brushing your cheek so that his mouth ghosts over the junction between your throat and your shoulders. It’s just enough sensation to raise goosebumps all over your body.

But it’s not enough.

You shiver, and he takes that opportunity to nip at the sensitive skin of your neck. You let out the quietest of moans and can feel his lips turn to a grin against your skin. Just as you’re about to turn into him, to press your lips against his, he’s pulling away and the serious, gentle Taehyung is replaced by the smirking, devilish version.

He gives you a boxy grin and takes off towards the water, ripping off his shirt as he goes.

You don’t hesitate before following him.

The two of you paddle out to the middle of the lake at an easy pace. Taehyung undoubtedly has a competitive streak, and while that shines through in many of his interactions, his desire for companionship is what takes over in the quiet moments. The people he cherishes most in his life are those who he can sit with in comfortable silence.  

You swim in silence as rose-colored streaks and white fluffy clouds slowly paint the dark sky. The only sound is that of the water parting for you and the first measures of bird song.

You’re used to early morning swims with Taehyung and your friends, it being one of your favorite forms of exercise. But this feels different. As the mountains loom above you and gold ripples of dawn shimmer on the surface of the water, there is a sacred weight—anticipation—that hangs within this moment.

You fall into this beauty, focusing on the way your breath creates a pattern in the sounds of the world. It’s so easy to fall into this charm that you slow your pace down to a crawl, lifting your head out of the water to take in the view.

Suddenly, you’re tugged back as strong arms grab you from behind and you squeal in surprise.

“Thought I lost you for a minute there,” he sings as your surprise turns into laughter. “It’s this way.”

And just like that, his touch is lost and he’s paddling away again. You follow behind him, watching the way the muscles of his back ripple as he glides through the water. You realize he’s leading you towards a spot in the lake where the shores press together, creating a narrow inlet. The water is still deep as you swim into it, tall evergreens rising above, casting deep shadows onto the small swells of the lake.

You see a shore quickly approaching and quicken your stroke to catch up to him. When you do, you smirk to yourself and launch yourself onto his back, shoving his head underwater in the process. He sputters but quickly straightens up, a deep laugh echoing through his chest. You are still clinging like a koala to him, and he sucks in a large breath before throwing the both of you back into the water.

Everything goes quiet.

A low thrum echoes through your skull, the sound of water—lots of water, humming low and deep. You let go of Taehyung just as he spins towards you, your eyes opening in the clear lakewater. Your hands grip the strength of his shoulders as he faces you and time seems to slow down—the dark locks of his hair flow freely in the current, forming a halo that dances around his sharp features. And despite the shadows cast by the looming evergreens above the surface, his skin seems to glow in the tide of snowmelt and sunrise.

All too soon, your lungs begin to ache for air and you kick up towards the surface, letting Taehyung pull you along with him towards the shore.

Here, the lake is shallow enough to stand. His hands are firm on your hips as he turns you towards him, pressing you to his torso.

There’s a hungry look in his eyes and he licks his lips as his gaze locks on yours.

“Why do you do that?” you blurt, your words sounding harsh, like they could break the stillness of the morning. That same fear is rushing over you, the dread of looming disaster.

“I—” his eyes catch yours as his eyelashes flutter. “I want to.” He blushes, suddenly shy. “I want to kiss you. Can I—?”

“Please,” is all you can force out.

His lips come to meet yours. Unlike your last kisses, this one is gentle. You press against his lips, letting your hands glide up his torso to rest on his chest. The kiss is soft, slow, and you can feel him breathing steadily beneath your hands, even as his grip around your waist grows tighter.

His hands trace their way up your sides to cradle your head between his large hands. The gentleness with which he holds you—the tenderness with which he kisses you—

“I don’t understand,” you manage to whisper against his lips.

He pulls back, a puzzled look on his face.

“What don’t you understand?”

“You. This.” Your instinct is to look away, but instead you hold his gaze, making the decision to turn away from your shyness, from the fear that bubbles up in your throat. He’s holding you close to his body and his chest rises and falls evenly, his eyes focused intently on you as you speak. “Like, is this a one-time thing? Is this just us messing around? Is this a friends thing?”

He laughs. “I don’t usually treat my friends like this.”

“Jimin will be disappointed to hear that,” you giggle.

“No, I’m serious.” His brow furrows and he bites his lip. “I like you. Maybe that’s stupid, like you said. Maybe this is stupid.” He gestures between the two of you. “But I’m willing to take that risk if you are. And I don’t know… it probably requires a longer conversation but I’d like this to be a more than friends thing.” He smiles softly at you. “If… if that’s what you want too.”

“I don’t want to be friends with you,” you state.

“Good. I have absolutely no interest in being friends with you either,” he grins.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you smile back softly. He nods his consent and you lean in.

It starts slow, tender.

His hands come up to draw against your sides and you shudder at the delicacy of his touch.

However, any sense of delicacy quickly disappears as you tangle your hands in his hair, loving the way the silky strands tangle around your fingers as if even the smallest details about him are begging you to come closer. Noticing the way his grip on you tightens as you run your fingers against his scalp, you take a guess and tug just enough to elicit a rough, graveled moan from him.

“You like that?” you ask.

“God, yes.”

Your grip tightens around his dark strands and you ever so gently build up the pressure in your wrist until his face is flushing and he’s tilting into your touch, leaving his neck exposed.

You pepper kisses softly down from his lips to his neck, where you nip and bite at the delicate skin. Between your ministrations on his neck and the firm hand you have in his hair, he’s putty in your hands.

However, his compliance doesn’t last long. He seemingly regains his senses and he slips his knee between yours, your center meeting his thigh. He presses up, applying a warm and heavy pressure just where the tension is building. Just as you’re starting to move your hips against his leg, he stops. You whine, chasing his touch. Although he smirks down at your pout, his next words are soft.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs.

“I’m fine,” you say, reaching for his lips.

“No, you’re shaking.” He takes a step back. “Let’s get you out of the water. I know exactly how to warm you up.” He sends you a wink.

Despite how heated Taehyung has made you feel, he’s right. Your fingers are white and a chill has sunk deep into your bones, leaving you shivering.  

He wraps an arm around your shoulders and leads you to the shore, guiding you over the slick rocks of the shallows.  

“This way,” he says, taking your hand and leading you alongside one of the rivers that feeds the lake. It’s shallow but wide, and he helps you balance as you step over the river rocks. It’s only a minute or so of walking before you hear the sound of rushing water. As you turn the corner, you find the source of it.

Water tumbles down from a height of twenty or thirty feet, falling into a crystal blue pool. Steam rises off the pool and as you move closer, you realize it’s… warm?

You jog towards the hot spring, slipping a little as you do so.

“Hey! Be careful!” Taehyung calls from behind you, but you don’t slow down. You only slow once you reach the edge of the water, dipping your toe in to test the temperature. Reassured, you wade into the water, sighing at the comforting warmth.

Once you’re in deep enough, you submerge your entire body, allowing the heat of the water to ease some of the coldness out of your limbs. You hold your breath for as long as you can before emerging, pushing your hair back. You sigh, deep and long, as your body warms and replaces the chilled tint of your skin with a gentle flush. After a minute, you open your eyes to see Taehyung standing, waist deep, just watching you. The corner of his lip is twitched up in the smallest ghost of a smile.

“You’re beautiful when you’re relaxed,” he says.

“Thanks.” You flush at the compliment.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I’m pretty too?”

You break into laughter and he dives beneath the water, swimming away from you and towards the shore. You follow after him.

“Was this the only thing you had in mind to warm me up?” you tease, coming to press up against his back, wrapping your arms around his torso.

“What? Is my secret hidden hot spring not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s perfect. I just… thought there might be a quicker way to warm up.”

He grins at you as you plop down onto the shore, wringing the water out of your hair. He comes to sit in front of you, kneeling between your legs.

“Did you now?” Tae grabs one of your legs, pulling it into his lap. He begins to massage your calf, hoping to bring some blood flow back to your limbs. “Something like this?”

“Something like this,” you repeat back to him, a slow smile spreading across your features. His fingers are lithe and nimble and somehow move in beautiful circles while still digging deep into the muscle. He had always done this for you after a long day of climbing, but with your legs spread and lips still swollen from his teeth, his touch takes on a different, blossoming meaning.

“God, that feels good,” you groan, your body relaxing under his touch.

“How good?” He bites his lip.

“Good enough that I want you to keep going.”

He begins to move up your leg, reaching your thigh before stopping to massage the fleshy bits of your body. His touch unravels the coldness from your blood and releases the tension from your early morning swim. It’s now your turn to melt into his hands and he takes note of this, leaning forward to meet your lips.

The kiss is light, but his hands dig deeper, moving upwards and closer to the edge of your swim bottoms.

He releases you with one hand to push the still-dripping hair out of his eyes. He catches you watching him and reaches out to cup your chin.

“You know, when you want something your eyes widen, adorably.” He runs his thumb over your lower lip. “And your lips part…” your blush deepens as his gaze becomes more intense. “...when you look at me. I’ve always noticed that. Noticed it the first time I met you.”

“You—you knew this whole time?”

“No, I thought that was just you—you being you. But now, knowing it’s just me,” he grins.

“It isn’t just you,” you say defensively.

“Isn’t it?”

You meet his gaze.

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take it.”

He leans forward to kiss you, his hand meeting your inner thigh again. His large fingers skate around the edge of your swimsuit. You’re so on edge after days of teasing that the simple gesture has you gasping against his mouth.

“Fuck, Tae, if you don’t touch me now I… well I don’t know what I’ll do.”

He shoots you one of his classic boxy grins. “Don’t be so dramatic,” he says as he sits back on his heels and walks his fingers towards the edge of your swimsuit, brushing the pad of his thumb over the fabric. You arch into his touch. After so much build up you’re overly sensitive. With one finger, he toys with the edge of the fabric and the swell of your lower lips, tracing around them. “You know I’ll always give you whatever you want. Especially when you look like this.”

He shoves your swimsuit to the side.

“So pretty and pink for me,” he murmurs. He draws his index finger up and down your folds. The touch is simple but it draws a whine from you.

His eyes shoot upwards to meet yours.

“Do that again.”

“Make me.”

He grins and slides your swimsuit down your legs and tosses it off to the side. Without breaking eye contact, he lowers his head to your glistening lips, using his hands to spread you wider for him.

“Take your top off,” he commands. “I want to see all of you.”

As you make quick work of slipping your swim top off, he kisses gently down your thigh, watching your tits come free and harden against the crisp morning air. And then his lips are pressed against you, warm and plush. He sends a stiff flick to your clit, sending sparks straight up your spine. Your head falls back, mouth hanging open.

“Tae, you feel so good.”

You can feel his lips curl into a smile against you.

His tongue laves over your cunt rhythmically, drawing some kind of beautiful pattern. You can’t help but grind against his mouth, pushing your hips up towards him. When his tongue dips into your entrance you cry out. He groans against your lips, sending vibrations through you. As he builds a steady pace you find your orgasm hurtling towards you, crashing into your body before you can warn him. You gasp, hands shooting out to grab onto whatever you can.

“Good girl,” he whispers against you, unrelenting in his pace.

As you reach down to push the hair away from his eyes, you notice his hips moving. He’s thrusting into his own hand with the same rhythm as his tongue.

Something about the unrestrained desire in his movements, the sight of him chasing  his own pleasure, has you clenching again and he smirks against you. You can feel his lips curl.

“C’mere, baby,” you murmur, trying to pull him up. “Let me take care of you.”

The two of you switch positions, him leaning back against his elbows and you on your belly in the grass between his thighs. The position is almost casual, as you kick your feet up behind you. But any portrait of innocence is broken when you pull his swim shorts down. His length springs free, already hard and slapping against the taut skin of his belly.

“God, you have a beautiful cock,” you gape, reaching out to wrap your hand around it gently.

He chokes at that.

“Well I’ve never heard that one before.”

“It’s true. So pretty and flushed.” You trace your finger over the prominent vein and grin when his cock twitches in your hand. “Ooh, sensitive.”

“I appreciate your curiosity, babe, but god, please, touch me.”

“I am.”

“More,” he begs.

You smirk up at him as you take your time leaning down and wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. He tastes salty and a little bitter. You run your tongue along the underside, using a hand to cover whatever isn’t in your mouth before pulling him fully inside. You begin a slow but punishing pace, bobbing up and down on his length.

It’s not long before his hips are twitching up into your mouth.

You look up at him to find him slack jawed, reeling in pleasure and delight that it’s your lips wrapped around him.

“God, you look so good with your lips wrapped around me.” It slips out before he knows what he’s saying. But the look of desire and admiration in your eyes is enough to placate his nerves. “Better than I imagined.”

You pull your mouth off of his cock with a slight pop. “You thought about this?”

“Mhmm.” He swallows hard as your mouth descends on him again. “The other day—that fucking popsicle.”

Your eyes widen with a hint of a smile but your pace doesn’t slow.

“And before that too—god I couldn’t stop thinking about it—”

“What were you thinking about?”

“I’m sorry—, I tried, I didn’t mean—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. I thought about it too.” Your reassurance sparks a light in his eye. “Tell me what you thought about.”

Your lips wrap around him again as you tongue at the head of his cock.

“Back in college, you would do this thing— fuck— where you would suck on your pencil in the library. Or your water bottle. Really, anything. Anything with your lips.” Your eyebrows shoot up as you remember those long nights spent studying in the stacks, and all the times Taehyung had urgently excused himself to the bathroom, returning a while later with a thin sheen of sweat across his forehead and a dopy, almost guilty smile painting his features.  

“Mhmm, what else?” you mumble as you lathe your tongue up and down the underside of his cock.

“The other day, on the cliff. All I could think about was you fucking someone else.” His eyes narrow. “That night in the tent, with you rubbing yourself all over my dick—” Your eyes widen at his directness, a spark of desire shooting through your core. “All I wanted to do pull those tiny shorts down and fuck you until that thought stopped spiraling through my head, until everyone knows who you belong to.”

His words egg you on and you attempt to take as much of him into your mouth as possible. The head of his cock brushes up against the back of your throat and you suppress the urge to gag. Instead, you take a deep breath, relax, and ease him slowly into the tight walls of your throat.  

“Ah!” he gasps as you attempt to swallow around his length “Okay, okay, come here baby,” he chants, more to himself than to you. “I’m gonna come if you keep it up like that.” He loosens his hands from where they’ve been tangled in your hair to pull you up so that you’re straddling him.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him. He can taste the bitter tang of his own precome on your tongue and he loves it. He loves tasting himself on you.

As you settle your weight into his embrace all of your attention is drawn to the hard length pressing along your folds. You’re soaking and he slides easily against you as his hips move in rhythm with his mouth. You moan directly into his open mouth when the head of his cock pushes directly against your sensitive clit.

“You want to do this?” you ask against his lips.

“Yes. God, yes. More than anything.”

You smile and lean back,  reaching down to grip his cock as you align it with your entrance.

“Wait—”

You freeze.

“I should have said this earlier. I don’t want you to do this because you think you need to or because you think this is the only thing I want you for.”

Your eyes widen, taking his flustered look in. Despite the sensation of his hard cock throbbing in your hands, all you can feel is the way your heart swells at hearing his words.

“I like you—I know I said that already—I like you a lot.” You press a shaky kiss to his lips, taking a deep breath. “I want you, not just this,” you say. “I don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

“Good. Are you gonna make me wait even more?”

With a smirk, you grip him tightly and slowly push just the head in, allowing time for you to adjust to his girth.

And then you pull up, releasing him from your warmth.

You do it again, only taking the tip of his cock. And again.

His hands are on you, and there’s a fire burning in his eyes.

“Please.”

You smile.

His adam’s apple bobs as you slide slowly down on his length, his fingers digging into your hips so hard it almost hurts. Almost.

“C’mere,” he pushes against your back so that you’re leaning forward, foreheads pressed together. You both stay in that position for a moment, unmoving. It’s enough to just savor the way your body relaxes around him, savoring the warmth, the feeling of melting into one another.

All you can hear are the sounds of your breath and the water lapping at your feet, mimicking the sounds of a heartbeat.

Finally, you shift your hips against him, lifting up just enough to feel him drag delightfully against your tight walls. You love the way his next intake of breath is sharp, as if he is doing his best to hold himself back.

With a grin, you push him back so he’s now resting his full back on the ground and you’re riding him. You begin your pace torturously slow, gently picking up speed.

Taehyung has always been a man aware of the way he looks. When you were younger, you all swore he could become an actor. He had a knack for twisting his face into exactly what people wanted to see from him, but here, now, he’s completely unraveled beneath you.

You watch in fascination as shifting emotion and sensation flickers freely across his face. Pleasure. Delight. Desire. Need.

His eyes flash open. “Moan for me. I want to hear you.”

You bite down on your lip, still doing your very best to keep your whimpers and groans stilled within your chest.

“I said I want to hear you moan for me,” Tae growls, shifting beneath you. The new angle is just enough to allow him to thrust up into you at his own pace. It’s just enough to split you open in pleasure and an involuntary moan slips out of you. You clap your hand over your mouth but he pries it away from you. “I love your voice,” he reminds you gently. “There’s nothing wrong with using it.”

“I don’t want them to hear,” you laugh, struggling to get the words out as he continues to hit a sensitive spot inside you.

“Let them hear. I want them to hear.” You look down just in time to see something mischievous glint in his eyes. His hands are tightening around your waist, and in a flash he flips you onto your back so he’s now in control of the angle and his thrusts. “Let them know it’s me drawing those pretty little sounds out of you.”

The combination of his words and the new angle stirs a deep fire in your belly and a sharp cry leaves your lips.

“That’s my angel,” Taehyung praises as his pace picks up. “So willing to do exactly what I tell her to do.”

He hooks his hand underneath your knee to get a better angle. You moan again, half for the sake of witnessing the bliss that spreads across his face at the sound of it.

“That’s it, baby. Let them know whose cock has you making those sounds. Let them know you’re all mine.”

You reach out for something to grab onto, twisting your fingers into the coarse ground as you arch your back.

“Baby, baby, grab onto me instead,” Tae coos from above you, unrelenting in his pace as your orgasm builds. “Hold onto me.”

You bring your hands underneath Tae’s arms to wrap around his back. When he hits a particularly soft spot inside you you groan, your fingers coming up to dig into his shoulders. It’s not just you. Your body wants him closer. Needs him closer. On his next thrust, you rake your nails down his back, trying to press him closer.

“Fuck,” Tae hisses.

“Closer…” you gasp. “I need you closer.”

“I’m already inside you and somehow you need me closer?” Tae grunts. “Greedy girl.”

“Yes, yes,” you beg. “Greedy for you.”

He comes down to rest on his forearms, boxing you in beneath his body. Still, his pace never falters.

“Do you think you can give me one more?” he asks. You grit your teeth and nod obediently. “That’s my girl. Let me feel you. Cum on my cock. Cum for me.”

You want to pull him into a kiss, but instead find your back arching and neck stretching out deliciously for him. He latches onto the already blooming flesh there, moaning your name against your skin. Your arms wrap as tightly as they can around him pulling him as deep as you can, calling his name and coming undone for him.

His pace only falters when he feels you gush around him. His movements become sloppy and desperate with need. A new sensitivity overtakes you as you come down from your orgasm and a whine slips from you. His continued thrusts only add to the sensitivity.

Your pleading voice in his ear is enough to send him over the edge. He presses into you hard one last time before collapsing and spilling into you, the most beautiful groan spilling from his lips.

Warmth and a gentle fullness replaces sensitivity as you both pant against each other, his weight resting heavy and reassuringly against you. He kisses slowly up your neck, lingering an extra moment on the marks he’s left, until he reaches your lips. He kisses you slowly and deeply.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your lips.

“Just like this?” you tease.

“Especially like this.”

“You too,” you remind him, not much energy left in you for a lengthy confession. Instead, you take the moment to brush his hair out of his eyes. He closes his eyes and sighs against your touch.

It’s only now that you become aware of your state. Your knees are cut and bruised from the rocks of the shore and your tangled hair is dripping in a mixture of lake water and sweat. Tae looks just as beat up as you do. And you love it.

As you run your thumb slowly over his damp cheek you hear footsteps—running footsteps quickly approaching. You have just enough time for Tae to sprawl out in an attempt to crudely cover you before a sweaty and very wide-eyed Jungkook trots into view. He seems as surprised to see you as you are.

“Oh hey, wha—Oh my god.” His eyes widen as he takes in your disheveled forms and tangled limbs. “HOLY SHIT.”

He immediately turns on his heel and starts sprinting back to the camp.

“TAE AND YN ARE FUCKING.”

The sound echoes all around the lake.

Jin smirks to himself as he climbs out of the tent and into the crisp mountain morning.

“Took long enough.”

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