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ghulehunknown · 4 months

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Mistletoe’d: Papa Emeritus III x F Reader

“Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

**WARNING - NSFW CONTENT - MDNI**

Summary: After the Ministry Christmas party, you join Terzo in his bedchamber for some festive activities.

CW/Tags: characters drinking alcohol, established relationship, clothed female nude male, blowjob, penetrative sex (P in V), condom use, cunnilingus, face-sitting, face fucking

Word Count: 4381

Available on AO3! Primo | Secondo | Terzo | Copia

Author’s Note: This is the third day of the four-part series XXXmas at the Ministry, a collaboration with @copias-sewer-rat, @molly-ghuleh, and @bupia - please read their works too!

Happy Hornidays! ❄️

xoxo, the Naughty Ghulehs 💋

Primo | Secondo | Copia

A HUGE thank you to AlexandrMcQueer on Twitter for the accompanying artwork! Check out the full NSFW version on her account.

Tonight was finally the night of the annual Ministry Christmas party, and Christmas Eve. Papa needed your help to pull everything off, so all week you were scheduling with the bakers, the cooks, the cleaning crew, and decorating.

But after this evening, you could relax. Well, aside from tending to Papa’s needs and making sure the ghouls didn’t get too soused that it ruined their unholiday in the morning. But after the party, you could enjoy the festivities.

Everyone began milling about and socializing in the main hall, picking at the large charcuterie spread and ladling punch or eggnog into glasses. It looked like everyone from the Clergy was there. Even Imperator and Nihil showed up, though they did not seem too sociable, seating themselves at a table in the corner. Primo immediately sat himself in one of the few chairs scattered around the hall with a large mug of something warm.

Suddenly the ghouls began whooping and you turned your head to see Terzo enter in a lavish looking Santa suit - it was made of crushed red velour with flecks of red sparkles and appeared to be trimmed with white feathers.

“Nice suit, Terzo,” you quipped, eyeing him up and down as he approached you.

“That’s Papa Claus to you, principessa,” he said with a snarky grin and giving you a smooch on the lips. “And you’re Santa’s little helper.”

That you were. He’d ordered you the shortest green elf dress, although the skirt was more like a tulle tutu. The outfit was a whole ensemble, complete with an elf hat with ears, pointy shoes with bells on the end, and candy cane patterned tights. You felt ridiculous, but ’tis the season.

Everyone was in their best holiday attire - anything from ugly Christmas sweaters to formal wear. The ghouls were all dressed in elf costumes, with the exception of Dew, who was dressed as Rudolph - an antler headband fitted over his mask and a red nose strapped to the front of his mask.

Cardinal Copia was wearing an old Saint Nick red and gold cloak over his red cassock, and a poorly made attachable white beard. Secondo was dressed in an all black 3 piece suit that had a subtle fleur de lis pattern, and was chatting with one of Primo’s ghouls.

The night went on, and you were actually managing to have fun. The ghouls turned one of the snack tables into a flip cup station (much to your dismay as you shuffled the catering staff carrying fresh trays of food back into the kitchen) and several of the Siblings started Christmas karaoke, with a very drunk-looking Copia taking the lead.

Terzo flitted between you and the rest of the guests, chatting with various Clergy members (and skillfully dodging Imperator each time). He snuck up behind you, squeezing your ass.

“Make sure these old fucks are having fun, eh?” he said lowly in your ear, nodding backwards to the senior members of the Clergy.

“And just how am I supposed to do that?” you said, one eyebrow raised, his hand still under your skirt.

He winked at you, handing you a bottle of opened bourbon before cupping your ass cheek in his hand and rubbing it. “We’ll cheers soon, then I can have you all to myself.” He leaned in closer to whisper in your ear. “Papa’s going to be coming down your chimney tonight.”

He clapped you on the ass then darted between people again. “Everybody - eggnog!” he shouted towards the crowd, raising his arms up. He was herding everyone to the center. You thought you might die on the spot from your cheeks burning red, but everyone was paying attention to him - thank Satan.

As everyone poured themselves another glass and gathered, you went around and splashed a bit of bourbon in everyone’s cup.

“Some bourbon for your eggnog, Cardinal?” you asked Copia, approaching him with the bottle.

“Eh, none for me,” he said, hiccuping and covering his glass. “It’s strong enough as it is! I’ve had th-three already.”

“It’s nonalcoholic, Cardinal,” you responded, blinking at him. He looked puzzled and walked away.

You made your way over to Primo who was almost snoozing in his chair. “Papa Primo?” you asked, holding the bottle out, gesturing towards his half empty mug. You weren’t sure if he was dressed like Scrooge on purpose or if those were just his pajamas but he mumbled something that sounded like “Bah,” and shook his head swiftly, the tassel at the end of his nightcap swinging around.

Everyone was standing in a semicircle around Terzo, who for once seemed just slightly lost for words. “Well, uh - shit,” he began, eliciting a few chuckles from the crowd. “I do not know what else to say, other than it’s been a fucking great year. We had two fantastic tours, and we’ll be continuing into next year… I, eh - met someone very dear.” He glanced at you briefly before continuing. “We won a motherfucking Grammy…!”

The ghouls whooped and cheered while the Siblings and other Clergy members clapped. You glanced over in the corner. Even Imperator seemed pleased - maybe.

“Sì, sì it has been phenomenal. You should all be very pleased with yourselves. So pleased in fact I think you should all celebrate, in eh, whatever means you choose to do. And if I do not see you all before the New Year, have an unblessed holiday. Now, we toast! Tomorrow morning we will celebrate our Savior’s birth. But for tonight, we sin.” He held up his glass and the others did the same. “To Lucifer!”

“To Lucifer,” you said, chiming in with a chorus of voices. You swallowed your bourbon-eggnog concoction - mostly bourbon by your heavy hand, you found as you winced slightly, the liquor burning down your throat. You didn’t drink much and this was your first holiday gathering at the Ministry. Next month would mark your first full year here, and the first time you laid eyes upon him - your Terzo.

“Eh, see you next year, Papa!” piped up Copia, still hiccuping as he nodded and ducked out of the crowd. You smiled at the Cardinal’s little joke. Terzo stopped in his tracks for just a moment and acknowledged Copia before walking away.

He rolled his eyes as he walked towards you then his face brightened. “Hello,” he said, standing very close to you.

“Hi, Papa,” you said, smiling at him and holding up the last bit of bourbon, swishing it in the bottle. “Saved the last for you.”

“Mmm,” he said, leaning in to kiss you. “How much? I need to keep my stamina for later.”

You took a swig and shuddered - Satanas, you still couldn’t drink straight liquor. “Not much now.” He chuckled at you and took the bottle from your hand, knocking back the rest. You coughed a couple of times and reached for some party punch, completely forgetting the one you reached for also had alcohol and coughed again.

He patted you soothingly on the back and asked, “Are you okay, tesorina?”

You nodded, finally grabbing the nonalcoholic punch and chugging some.

“Will Papa have to take care of his little elf this evening?” he said, trailing the back of his index finger over your cheek.

“No, Papa,” you said, clearing your throat. “I’ve barely had anything.”

“Good. I have a surprise for you tonight, amore.”

“Hm. Any hint?” you asked coyly.

“Not a fucking clue. Come to my room in five minutes just as you are.” He picked up a handful of hard candies from the snack table and popped a few in his mouth, staring at you while walking backwards a few paces before turning around and heading down the hall.

You continued to mingle with the other Siblings, trying hard to conceal your blushing cheeks but to no avail.

“Someone’s excited about something,” one said.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured.

“Come on - spill!”

“Well, Terzo and I -”

“Terzo?” said another.

“Oooooh!” the others said in a singsong tone almost in unison.

“He said he has a surprise for me, in his room.”

“So you graduated from office visits to home visits now?” asked the first Sibling, looking impressed.

“Well…I’ve seen his bedroom a few times,” you said, not willing to divulge the full truth just yet. You’d been spending most of your nights in his room and sneaking back into the Siblings’ quarters early in the morning. Even though each Sibling had their own room, you knew your Sisters would hear the door to the suite open.

“I think this is the most serious he’s been with anyone,” said the second Sibling. “I’ve been here a few years and usually he’s done with his fling after two months. But you’ve stuck around.” You shook your head, not willing to believe this hype only to be let down. You just wanted to live in the moment and enjoy what you had with Terzo. “You should go - you don’t want to keep him waiting.”

You smiled and bid your fellow Siblings goodbye as they all made lewd gestures to imitate various sex acts and waved you off, wishing you luck.

You walked down the silent and dark corridors, passing ghouls and Siblings alike shrouded in the shadows to have their midnight dalliances, no doubt egged on by the holiday cheer and the alcohol. You smiled, thinking about not having to hide in a hallway like when you first started dating him. Now you had his entire bedroom to have your sultry romps.

You opened his door and walked into his Papal suite, the familiar lush decor and smell of mahogany filling your senses. You passed by the small and elegantly decorated Christmas tree by the fireplace. You wondered just what his surprise might be when you saw him propped up against the wall, a rose in his mouth and —

What was that?

He was dressed in his Santa jacket and hat, with nothing else on - save one thing. Your eyes trailed along his upper body then snapped to what was in between his legs. On the end of his throbbing hard cock was some mistletoe, tied around his shaft by a red ribbon and a little gold bell below it. He waggled his eyebrows and at the same time isolated his pelvic muscles to make his cock bob up and down, tinkling the bell.

“How long have you just been standing there all hard waiting for me?”

His face fell momentarily and he took the rose out of his mouth. “I thought you would like it.”

“I do!” you said, suppressing laughter as best as you could while stepping towards him. You held onto the lapels of his jacket and leaned in. “I do.” He smiled again, a smug look of satisfaction washing over him.

“Good,” he said, handing you the rose. “Because you’re going to get stuffed and glazed just like Secondo’s honey ham.”

You bit your bottom lip, smiling. “But I don’t think it’ll be quite as delicious as you, amore.”

“It should be. I’ve been eating a lot of pineapple for this.”

“Really? Then I’ll have to taste it for myself,” you said, feeling the heat pool at your core.

He cupped your face in his hands, kissing you deeply, slipping his tongue in. You weren’t sure where to place your hands so you held onto the rose with one hand, the other in his hair. He swiftly brought you closer to him, his quivering cock poking at your thigh under your tulle skirt.

“Mm!” you said, surprised at feeling his hardness brush against you.

“Well,” he said, pulling away to look at you. “It’s not going to kiss itself, tesoro.” He twitched his cock again, making it bob up and down and wagged his hips side to side, making it shake the other direction and sounding the bell.

You eyed him slyly as you bent down, gently falling to your knees before him and placing the rose on the floor. You took his cock in your hand and began stroking his length, eyeing the perfect pink tip at the end. Each time you stroked him, the bell would chime.

“Oh cazzo,” he sighed, leaning his head back, his lips parted.

You flicked the tip of your tongue against the head of his cock and watched his abdominal muscles contract. He was like putty in your hands.

“You like that, amore?” you asked teasingly, his shaft in your palm.

He glared at you from the corner of his eye. “Stai zitto,” he said through moans as you continued to swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. But you could swear you saw a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth as he said this.

You closed your eyes as you took his entire length in your mouth, sliding him in and out and clutching onto his hips. The little leaves on the mistletoe tickled your nose each time the bottom of his cock reached your lips.

Clink! Clink! went the bell each time you slid him in and out of your mouth.

He started to whimper and moan quietly, his eyes closed in pleasure. His hand was on the back of your head, gripping your hair tighter the faster you went. At one point he began thrusting into your mouth, probably no longer able to contain himself.

Clink! Clink! ClinkClinkClinkClinkCLINKCLINK

“Mmm!” you mumbled around his cock as the greenery around his member assaulted your face over and over, scratching your nose and cheeks a little bit each time. CLINK.

Your eyes welled with tears as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly. CLINK. At this point you were hardly doing any work, just kneeling there and being used as a vessel. CLINKCLINK

“Satanas you’re going to make me cum like that,” he panted as he continued pushing his hips into your face.

You smiled around him - well as best as you could - and brought him closer by gripping his ass cheeks.

“Ah - cazzo!” he exclaimed, suddenly pulling out of your mouth and panting.

“Terzo?” you asked, trying to look up but you were unable to as his hand remained on your head as he used you to prop himself up and regain composure.

“I can’t cum too soon and ruin the evening, no?” he said, standing up straight and helping you up off the floor. “Not when I haven’t even taken care of you.”

You kissed his laughter lines around his mouth as he spoke, his Papal makeup smudged from your kisses earlier. “You always take such good care of me.”

He turned to face you and held you in an embrace, kissing you passionately again, his hands roaming all over your body. He began to massage your breasts through your costume, building the arousal between your legs even more. Your breathing quickened as you both moaned into each other’s mouths.

“Fuck this fucking blouse,” he said breathlessly, breaking away and tearing at the front of your green cardigan, the buttons flying across his floor - eliciting a ‘Shit!’ from you. “Mmm!” he mumbled, kissing you again, pawing at your chest.

He fumbled around your back at your bra clasp, unhooking it after a couple of tries. You urgently slid the straps off your shoulders and tossed the bra to the floor. He bent down to take your nipple in his mouth, circling his tongue around it and sucking. He alternated, pinching the other one between his fingers.

“Oh Terzo,” you sighed, running your hands through his hair, fiddling with the silver strands peppering his raven hair. He’d never admit to it, but you saw the box dye left on his bathroom counter.

Instinctively you squeezed your legs together, alleviating some of the need to touch yourself. You felt your heart race and a shiver run down your spine.

“Fuck me, please Papa,” you sighed, breath trembling.

“Mm?” he said, glancing up at you between your breasts with a glint in his eyes. He kissed all over your chest, up your neck and finally, your lips. “Is la mia principessa ready for her Papa to fuck her brains out, hm?”

“Yes Papa, please,” you said, still in a breathy whisper. “Fuck me.”

He nodded his head towards the bathroom and glanced over. “Go get a condom and meet me in bed. I’ll get the lube.”

“Why are there none in our nightstand drawer?”

“‘Our?’”

“Shit. You know what I meant.”

He grinned. “Ti stai dimenticando? We used them all last night and I didn’t have time to take some more out.”

Slightly embarrassed at your gaffe, you made your way into the bathroom and started opening drawers. “Where did you put the box?”

“Bottom drawer!” he called out.

Did he think differently of you now? Would he think you were too presumptuous and want to call the whole thing off? Or potentially, were you just overthinking things as usual? “Found it! Oh fuck, shit!”

“Sorella?” He sounded concerned and rushed over to find you on your hands and knees kneeling near the toilet.

“Almost got it!” You had dropped the roll of condom wrappers behind the toilet and had wedged yourself between it and the vanity. “Help me, Terzo!”

“Ah, I see now,” he said slyly. “Call for me in a panic just so you can entrap me.”

“What? Terzo, no, I really do need help, I drop- ”

“Sì, I can help,” he said, kneeling down behind you, his cock right up against your ass.

“It’s just, argh!”

“Argh!” he imitated you, running his hands all along your body.

“It’s right there I can’t - reach - !”

“Has anyone told you how sexy you look with your ass in the air in candy cane tights?”

You rolled your eyes but you knew he couldn’t see. “Er, no - um, thank you. But I dropped the condoms behind the toilet.”

He craned his neck to see. “Ah. This is quite the pickle we are in. You with your hand behind the toilet and your ass against my cock.”

“No, I believe it’s your cock against my ass.”

“What am I to do, tesorina? What should a Papa do when finding his lover in a compromising position, hm?” He leaned down and trailed kisses along your back, momentarily freezing your arm from the continued search of the condoms.

“Fuck…” you whispered, feeling his mouth move further south and his hands finding their way around your waist.

“What’s that, bella? You think Papa should fuck you? You called me in such a panic earlier that I did not bring the lube…mmm, what should we do?” he said, kissing you just above your ass. “Is la mia principessa ready?”

Your body ached with desire. You needed him inside you. He trailed his finger along your tights-covered behind, poking around where your entrance was. “Darling, I think your tights are just a little wet. Let’s see just how wet you are inside.” He gripped the fabric and you heard it ripping apart.

You let out a surprised gasp as the chill air hit your warm, now exposed nether regions. He entered you with a finger and your body shuddered against him as you whimpered quietly.

“Oh yes,” he said in an amused tone. “You are very ready.” He slid out and up to your clit, playing with it gently as you moaned and rocked your body back and forth to feel the friction against his fingers. “So responsive. Una così brava ragazza.”

“Please, Papa,” you said under your accelerated breath. “Please fuck me.”

“Don’t worry amore,” he said, reaching over you and grabbing the sleeve of condoms that you were having trouble getting just moments before. “I will.” He tore off one and ripped it open.

You readjusted yourself on the tile floor so you wouldn’t bang your head against the toilet or the side of the vanity as you heard the crinkle of the wrapper and the clinking of the little bell still attached to his dick.

“Oh FUCK!” you both said in unison as he entered you. He slammed into your dripping cunt with such ease, you felt him bottom out immediately. The tingle of the mistletoe against your clit heightened the sensation.

Clink! Clink! Clink! Clink! In and out, in and out. You both moaned each other’s names in pure, unadulterated passion.

“Ah - merda Sorella, you turn me into a teenager again. Fucking on the floor out of sheer desperation for one another.” Now he was so deep inside you the bell muffled against your body. CLUNK. CLUNK. CLUNK.

“So - mmm! - you’re d-desperate for me?” you said teasingly against the cold tile.

“La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca.” With that he fucked into you so hard, so fast, you couldn’t say another word. He pushed your head against the floor roughly, your cheek pressed against the cool marble so hard you could feel the grout indent. He nearly knocked the breath out of you as he hit your g-spot perfectly each time, a relentless grip on the back of your head.

“Ohhh - !” you moaned as he rammed into you over and over. CLUNKCLUNKCLUNKCLUNK. He was thrusting faster, riding out his orgasm, his nails digging deeper into your hips.

“Fuck - I’m going to - cum - Sorella - !” He pounded into you, tapering off his speed as he came, his cock twitching a final time before he slumped over your back, breathing heavily.

“Satanas,” he breathed, his chest heaving wildly as he pulled out, your body shuddering under him at the loss. You heard the snap of latex and the condom hitting the trash can liner.

You turned around and sat down, leaning against the toilet. You watched him untie the mistletoe and take it off, tossing it aside. “So how was it, with that?” you asked, nodding towards the discarded plant.

“Honestly? It was a little itchy. It might just be a novelty.” He tossed himself on his back against the floor. He looked at you, his chest still rising and falling from being out of breath. “How was it for you?”

“Honestly? It was a little itchy,” you repeated. You both smiled and laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Come here Sorella, I did not intend to leave you wanting. Hop onto Santa’s lap.”

You crawled over to him and straddled his lap, gazing into his eyes.

“What do you want this year for being such a good little girl?” He asked, caressing your arms and looking at your breasts before flicking his eyes up into yours.

“I want…endless kisses…and a mind-blowing orgasm,” you said, leaning down to kiss him.

He returned the smooch. “Mm, I did not know a present for you would also be a present for me. Come closer and sit on Santa’s face…that’s it, Satanas yes please.”

You moved up his body until you were straddling his face, then delicately lowered your body on him, doing your best to move your skirt out of the way.

He sputtered, spitting out the tulle from his mouth and pulling your hips towards his face again. He batted at the layers of fabric, cursing in Italian, before finding your cunt.

Your eyelids flitted closed as your lips parted in a silent “oh.” He took your clit in his mouth and sucked on it between his lips. He alternated between that and flicking your sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue. You looked down to gaze in his eyes but his face was completely hidden under a green tutu.

You began to buck your hips against his face as he used the flat of his tongue, building up the friction and feeling yourself closing in on orgasm. He switched up and deepened the suction on your clit, flicking his tongue against you simultaneously.

“Oh fuck Terzo - fuck, I’m so close!” You rocked back and forth as you pinched your nipples, heightening the sensation.

His fingernails dug into your hips again as he sped up his ministrations. Grabbing ahold of your waist, he slid you along his mouth faster and faster.

“Oh, Terzo!” you cried out in ecstasy, trembling on your knees above him as you came hard and fast in his mouth. He didn’t let up the motions or the intensity until you pulled away, giggling from the overstimulation. You climbed off of him and sat down next to him, both smiling at one another.

“How are you feeling? Good?” he asked, stroking your thigh.

You nodded your head. “Yes, very. But can I lay down next time? I’ve been on my knees an awful long time.” You both laughed.

“There’s Papa’s little hoe hoe hoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “Of course, amore mio. Anything for you.”

You held onto his hand, playfully caressing all his fingers. “It’s been a very good Christmas so far,” you remarked.

“Mmm. And you haven’t even opened your presents yet.”

“There’s more?”

“What, you thought this was it? No Sorella, go look under the tree.”

You eyed him suspiciously as you stood up, legs still a little shaky. You walked out of the bathroom and into the living room.

You hadn’t noticed the presents under the tree earlier, but there were a few. A lot, actually. Somehow even your gifts for him were under there. One of the ghouls or housekeeping staff must have moved them for you.

One caught your attention - a gold envelope poking out from the middle branches of the tree. You reached inside the tree, accidentally sending the package spilling onto the floor. Two plane tickets splayed out on the floor.

You picked them up in wonder - your name was at the top of one, and his on the other. You walked in a daze over to him.

“You did not truly think I would leave you with just my cock for Christmas, did you?” he said, following you out of the bathroom and now leaning against the wall. “I love you, principessa. I call you princess because to me you are. My sweet little thing. I want to give you the world, my world…would Italy be a good start?”

You flung your arms around him, tears in your eyes. “Yes, Terzo. I think that will be an amazing start.”

[Stay tuned for a continuation of this story!]

Italian to English Translations

(la mia) principessa ((my) princess)

tesorina (little treasure/darling)

amore (mio) ((my) love)

cazzo (fuck)

Stai zitto (Shut up)

Ti stai dimenticando? (Are you forgetting?)

Sorella (Sister/nun)

bella (beautiful)

Una così brava ragazza. (Such a good girl.)

merda (shit)

La mia diavoletta pensa di essere così intelligente, eh? È ora che chiudi la bocca. (My little devil girl thinks she’s so smart, eh? It’s time you shut your mouth.)

Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my future works!

227 notes · View notes

meetmyothersouls · 1 year

Note

ok ok so lee seeing the reader around town one day & starts following her. He ends up saving her from another eater? Thank you, I need more lee content!

Been thinking about this all day and I've finally got enough to write it! I hope you enjoy!

First Time for Everything

A Bones & All inspired fanfic

Warnings: stealing money, being attacked, cannibalism (relax it's a bones and all inspired fic), blood, gore, not proofread

July 1989

You’d never stolen anything before. Not even when your friends would go into a Walmart and shoved nail polish and thongs into their purses. They always called you a goody-two-shoes or a scaredy-cat. You wonder what they’d think now as you carry a K-mart bag full of cash from the register you were working at not even 30 minutes ago.

Of course, being newly homeless generated a whole new incentive to steal the money. And even though it was so out of the norm for you, it was so easy. You waited until your line was clear, pulled open a bag, popped the till and calmly grabbed every stack of bills in the register, pocketing what wouldn’t fit. Then, you flipped off your register light and walked out. It wasn’t until you made it to the parking lot that you began to run. And now, the adrenaline high you are coming down from is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. They’ll never suspect you. Not with you being the golden employee that you are. Were. You can’t go back there now.

It’s getting dark, that along with the pointy tips of crumpled up money poking your thigh from the inside of your pockets snaps you out of your thoughts. This morning, you were worried about where you’d stay. It wasn’t the first time you got kicked out of a hotel room, and it probably won’t be the last, but at least now you can afford a new room for the night. If you can find one.

It's hot, one of the hottest nights so far this July. You pull off the thick K-mart polo and throw it into woods, leaving you in your black cami and a pair of khakis. A chorus of cicadas singing from the trees in that line the street almost drowns out the sound of a flirty whistle from behind you. You walk a little faster, not daring to turn your head.

"Hey, little lady," a man's gravelly voice calls out. "Why don't you keep the show going and take the rest off." The man laughs, but it's cut short by a painful sounding cough.

You pick up speed, your Converse slapping the pavement as you quickly turn into an alley, hoping to lose him by your abrupt change in direction, but a thick hand grabs your wrist.

"Let me go!" You yell, attempting to yank your wrist from his sweaty grip.

The man seems to enjoy the struggle, he tightens his fingers around your wrist as he pushes you into a warm brick wall. A tall streetlamp shines an eerie orange light into the alley, barely illuminating the man's features. He's got dark hair, stringy with sweat and grease. One of his eyes is missing and the other is open wide. He looks hungry. Ravenous. And the laugh that rumbles in his throat is truly sinister.

"Keep goin', darlin'. I love a good fight."

Then his tongue is on your neck, tasting your skin. You sob and gag as you inhale the scent of his breath. Sour with alcohol and something metallic.

"Come on, honey. Don't fight me, I just wanna taste-"

"Hey!" A new man's voice yells. "Hey, get off her!"

The man's grip on your wrist loosens enough for you to pull away from him. You take your chance and make a run for it. You dropped your bag of money when Man Number One shoved you against the wall, but you can't risk turning back around. You just have to make it ou-

You're stopped short by a hand in your hair, pulling your head back, bending you almost in half. You scream as Man Number One drags you. He's pulling you by your hair, your heels dig into the ground in front of you, desperately attempting to gain some traction. Your only view is upside down and distorted through the tears building up in your eyes. But, in the dim orange light you see the other man. He's peeling himself off of the ground and his nose is dripping blood onto a forest green crop top. His jeans are shredded, exposing a large amount of his legs, you're not sure if it's because he just fell or if the jeans are just naturally like that or why you're even wondering about the nature of his jeans. He's got a brick in his hand that he's attempting to hide, but even upside down you can see it. You see him look down at you and for some reason he winks. Then you realize, Man Number One can't see him.

Crop Top walks creeps up onto Man Number Two, like a lion stalking his prey. Then, without warning, he slams the brick into the side of his skull with a wet crunch. Instantly, you're dropped to the ground and as much as the landing hurt, the relief feels twice as good. Your scalp throbs and you're sure you're missing a chunk of hair. A set of light footsteps run toward you, and immediate dread sets in again, but it's Crop Top. He grabs you, throwing you over his shoulder. You're not sure if you should be scared or relieved as he places you behind a dark green dumpster.

Crop Top kneels down, looking over his shoulder once to make sure Man Number One is still down.

"Is he-"

"Not yet. Stay here. Don't move until I come get you," Crop Top says. He drops a plastic bag next to you. The money. You're immediately shocked he didn't take it for himself. That's what most people would do. His knees pop a little as he stands back up. He starts to walk off but stops. "And don't watch."

Don't watch? Isn't that like an automatic invitation to watch? You think to yourself. You lean your head back on the brick and close your eyes. You could run right now. You could take your money and get a room for the night and leave this odd encounter right here in this alley, but you don't. Instead, you poke your head out, peeking from the side of the dumpster.

Immediately you wish you hadn't. Crop Top somehow dragged Man Number One and sat him up against the brick wall, maybe 15 feet from where you're sitting. How he did it, you're not sure. Crop Top probably weights 120 pounds soaking wet, but he's managed to maneuver him just right so that he can...

You pop your head back behind the dumpster, unsure of what you just saw. There's no way...

You poke your head out, peeking again. There's a squelching sound, followed by a spatter of blood coming from Man Number One's neck as Crop Top bites into it.

Okay, yeah. He's definitely eating him. This should definitely be a sign to run, right? But you aren't moving. Everything in you is screaming to run. Run the fuck away because this dude is going to eat you next. But you don't. You sit there alternating from watching and hiding. It's like one of those car accidents you can't help but watch, hoping you'll see a dead body, or some fucked up shit like that. You shouldn't want to look, but you do.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, you hear footsteps approaching. You sit up straighter against the brick. His stops in front of you. His white high tops covered in blood and gore. Why would he pick white shoes to wear if he's going around munching on dudes.

"You looked, didn't you?" Crop Top asks.

"I uh..." you risk a look at his face. It's covered in blood. His upper lip, his mouth and his chin are coated in it. You swallow hard. "What are you?"

Crop Top crouches down again, eye level with you. "A person like you," he smiles. "Name's Lee." He holds out a bloody hand. You look down at it then back at him. "Oh," Lee says, wiping his hand off on his shirt, then offers it again. Still just as bloody as before.

"Are you gonna eat me too?" The question falls out of your mouth, you can't stop it. Word vomit.

Lee scrunches up his face, pursing his lips as he tilts his head to the side, contemplating your question. "Mmmm, probably not. Unless you've done something really shitty..." Lee eyes your bag of money with an arched eyebrow and you shift a little.

"My name's Y/N."

"You work at K-mart, Y/N?"

"No," you answer too quickly.

"I've seen you there. A lot."

"I don't work there anymore," you say. "You've been watching me?"

"Every day for like two weeks or some shit," Lee says, like it's no big deal. Though up against eating a whole human, it's probably not. "That your first-time stealing from money from your job?"

You open your mouth, the urge to defend yourself creeping up your throat, but you cut it short. You just watched this man eat someone.

"It's my first time," you admit.

"No shit? Well, Y/N, there's a first time for everything." At this point you notice the grey grocery bag he's carrying. It's full and tied up, dripping slightly with thick red liquid. "Bones and shit," Lee says, and tosses the bag into the dumpster. It lands with a heavy, wet thud. "You got anywhere to be tonight, y/n?"

"Not really, no."

"Not really?"

"I'm homeless," you admit.

"Perfect, let's go."

This time Lee grabs your hand and pulls you up. You grab your bag of money and walk with him looking behind you every so often to make sure no one is following.

"Where are we going?" You ask.

"For a ride," Lee says smiling as he jangles a pair of car keys in front of your face. "Nabbed these off of fuck face back there before he tried to eat you."

"He tried to-"

"Oh, he was going to eat you real good. You're lucky I've been following you."

"How-"

"Shh save your questions, I'll answer all of them when we find his car."

"We're gonna steal his car too?" You ask. The amount of crime you've been involved in today is beginning to overwhelm you.

"You've never stolen a car?"

You shake your head.

Lee smiles. "I think we're gonna have a lot of first times, Y/N."

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @rosewatergroupie

#TIMOTHEE CHALAMET #timothee x reader #TIMOTHEE CHALAMET FICS #timothee chalamet imagine #Timothee chalamet blurb #Timothee chalamet x yn #timothee chalamet x you #timothee chalamet headcannon #timothée chamalet #bones and all #Lee x you #writing #smut #dark!timothee

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sommerregenjuniluft · 6 months

Text

@jegulus-microfic - october 31 - halloween - 745words

insp by @regscupid october 3rd microfic <3

“Say ‘I am going to abduct you, earthling.’”

“I look stupid.”

“You look properly scary.”

“I have wobbly eyes on my head.”

“Don’t see what one thing has to do with the other, love,” James grins cheekily from behind Regulus in the mirror and then gives him a loud smooch on his cheek.

Regulus rolls his eyes and hopes the green-ish face paint over his nose covers his blush.

“Ready to go, Hazza?” James calls up the stairs.

There’s a giggle from the floor above, a few quiet steps and then Harry jumps down two at a time within sight of them with a loud Grawr.

James playfully jumps in place and clutches his chest with a gasp as Harry erupts into evil snickers.

The young boy comes bounding down the rest of the stairs in his skeleton onesie and black and white face paint that’s only minutely smudged (as of now) and holds up his sweets bucket that his father told him to get from his room.

This one is distracted fighting to pull his spider legs shoulder straps over his thick coat so Regulus gives Harry a nod and a smirk and reaches his hand out to him, “C’mon. Shoes on and then off we go.”

“Yeah!” Harry yells with elation and passes his plastic pumpkin bucket off to Regulus.

It’s still light outside when they start their walk around the neighborhood.

James tells Harry to look out for the houses with Halloween decoration, anything creepy– candles, spiderwebs, carved pumpkins.

It only takes two houses down the sidewalk before Harry gasps and points at a prettily decorated front door.

James gives his son a warm smile, nodding, telling him to go on, as he snakes an arm around Regulus’ waist, pulling him closer into his side.

It’s not particularly cold but Regulus lets himself melt into James’ ridiculously puffy jacket with a sigh anyways. He’s warm and he smells good, like his cologne and their laundry detergent and the glass of mulled wine they shared before getting ready.

He burrows further into James’ scarf around his neck as he watches Harry skip up the stairs, two pointy-toothed pumpkins out front, white cotton wool and black, little paper bats adorning the railing.

Harry rings the bell and then hastily presses himself against the outside wall next to the door, holding a finger to his lips as he looks wide-eyed and breathless back at them.

Regulus’ chest feels so full he might burst.

The door opens and a middle aged woman with a witch’s hat peeks around with a bowl of chocolates in her hand.

She has barely time to look confused at James and Regulus before little Harry jumps out of his hiding spot with a shrill, “Trick or treat!”

The woman yelps in a genuine fashion and throws an admonishing look over at him and James as Harry falls into a little giggle fit. “Well, thank goodness I’m no 60 something year old with poor blood pressure,” she says good-naturedly, crouching down in front of Harry with a smile to let him choose his pick.

Regulus shifts his weight from one foot to the other a little uneasily at the thought of Harry actually giving one of the pensioners in their neighborhood a heart attack.

“As young and fresh as always, Miss Sinistra.” James says with a charming grin.

The woman grumbles a little and fixes James with a look when Harry turns his back to her to join the two of them again, “You fellas should dial it down a notch or two.”

When Regulus looks over again, James seems a little bashful as he smiles brightly, “Noted.”

Satisfied with that, apparently, she softens right up and gives them another pointed look, smug smile on her lips, “Happy Halloween to you.”

“Happy Halloween, dear neighbor,” James responds, squeezing Regulus’ waist knowingly.

Regulus curses quietly, giving Sinistra a wave, smiling strained.

“Happy Halloweeeen,” Harry shouts, racing past them and they quickly turn to follow.

Regulus gnaws on the inside of his lower lip while he feels James radiate with glee next to him, who waits until Harry is further down the sidewalk out of earshot before he leans down and rasps into Regulus ear, “Seems like she didn’t forget the way I fucked you against the window last year, after all.”

Regulus jams his elbow forcefully into James’ side.

The puffy-jacketed bastard doesn’t do much besides chuckle and pull Regulus into a kiss.

#dont you worry Harry has multiple layers on under his onsie #our boi is protected from the cold #jegulus microfic #jegulus #baby harry #jegulus fluff #starchaser #sunseeker #james potter #regulus black #regulus black x james potter #james potter x regulus black #lune’s tiny fic

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shankschewtoy · 1 year

Text

One piece characters wearing heels

a/n - my brother decided to wear heels today for the first time, ended up in urgent care with a horrible broken ankle 💀💀💀

Warnings ⚠️ - crack, g/n reader

- he is slaying it

- but his bigass stinky musty crusty dirty fucking feet don’t fit into any shoes

- his toes will break through heels 💀 and it’s a shit show because his toes REEK

- will do a model walk like the drama queen he is

- “Y/n see?! I can wear heels!”

- you are traumatized by his toes sticking out of the shoes, like no one should have to see that shit

- bro has some weird shit on there from the fact that they’re stuck in those boots all the time

- he sleeps with shoes on 💀

- “Ew Kidd- that’s gross…”

- “Fuck you y/n. I’m amazing in heels.”

- dying

- will fall every single step

- throws out his back 💀💀

- “Y/n why are they POINTY.”

- “MY TOES- OH MY TOES!”

- “MY ANKLE GODDAMIT!”

- benn is laughing his ass off in the corner as he struts with the heels perfectly, man is perfect in every way

- shanks is a DISASTER

- hair is disheveled as fuck, sweating like a pig, and he’s as shaky as a vibrator 💀

- “y/n these shoes are going to kill me- I’m only 40 please don’t let me die..”

- “ugh. Why did you even put them on in the first place?!”

- “BECAUSE YOURE SO BEAUTIFUL IN THEM SO I THOUGHT ID LOOK COOL TOO! And also yasopp dared me to…”

- you slapped the bitch and gave him positive affirmations that he was a cool old man💜

- ok but why is he lowkey good at wearing heels 🤨

- hmmm????

- man is training while in heels it’s amazing

- doing weightlifting with heels? Fuck yeah

- he will wear anything you give him 💀

- he literally could not care less, and it shows

- man’s a girl boss all the way through, Sanji WISHES he could slay like him 🤪

- “y/n these are uncomfortable, can I go barefoot?”

- “take a shower first then.”

- “Fine I’ll wear them jeez!”

- “SHOWERING IS NOT THAT BAD!”

- “YES IT IS!”

- “… is it because you get lost on the way-“

- “SHUT UP SHHHH NO DONT SAY ANYTHING!”

- the cheeky ass grin that spread across your face at that moment..

- oooooo… blackmail 😏

- he was forced to wear heels in his battle against mihawk and I swear mihawk was lowkey like: where did he get those? I would like a pair, perhaps perona would know, she seems to be very knowledgeable about fashion. 🤓

- you rn: 🤪✌️

a/n - I am so high right now 😂

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batterygarden · 2 years

Note

I really like ur denji reader stuff!!

Was wondering if you can do a shy reader one who's just as horny as denji but is too nervous to show it

Sticky

18+ MDNI College au Denji x F!reader: Denji's first date with the shy girl from class has an unexpected outcome.

cw: vaginal sex, cunnilingus, creampie w birth control, quite a shy reader but she's a perv, she wears lingerie and a dress and jewelry, teeense of cockwarming, aged up characters. wk: 3.7k

thank u so kindly, @akicore for beta read

Denji thinks it’s weird how tense you are when you set foot through his doorway. Tugging off your shoes with shaky fingers then greeting him with stiff shoulders. You talk so quiet he has to ask you to repeat yourself twice when you ask how his day’s been. Are you nervous? He wishes he could read your mind to know why; you seemed really excited to meet over text, not to mention it was your idea to have a movie night at his place. I guess she might just like me so much that she’s… nah. Too out of my league. She’s gotta just be shy. But then…

Denji takes in your outfit. Certainly not something he’d picture the quiet girl from his class wearing to a first date. Your dress is downright tiny, Denji thinks it could fit in his pocket if he folded it, and you’re wearing thigh-high lacy stockings and is that–Denji has to force his eyes away from your thighs and the apparent garter belt hooked beneath your skirt.

Shaking his head to clear it, Denji gives you a warm welcome, smiling his big, pointy smile before giving you the grand tour of his humble apartment.

“Okay and that’s all the rooms! So uhh…” Why’s she gotta pull the dress down! Fuck what was I talking about! Denji narrowly stops his hand from pulling the fabric back above your cleavage so he can focus. You blink up at him with big puppy eyes while he pauses, smiling real coy like your brain’s the one moving half a mile per hour.

“Ice cream! I got some ice cream we can eat while we watch the movie..if…uh…if you’re down.” Your grin gets a little bigger and you nod, so Denji spins fast for the freezer, glad to escape your eye contact for a second.

You take this time to fidget with your jewelry and try to compose yourself. The truth is, you’ve had a giant crush on Denji since the beginning of the semester, and being alone with the man you’ve been fantasizing about for months now is making you feel like a deer in headlights. He seems a bit nervous too, but he’s definitely handling it better than you are; you’re worried your shyness is scaring him away. He likely went into this date knowing nothing about your personality–you’d actually been the one to ask him out after gathering the courage for a while. His answer was a quick and resounding yes, but you’re still feeling a little insecure.

“Ya like strawberry?” Denji calls from the kitchen.

“That’s–yes!”

Denji returns with a pint of Ben & Jerry’s and two spoons, leading the way into the living room.

“What were you sayin’?”

“Just, that’s my favorite flavor.”

Denji sits in the middle of the couch. “You’re kidding! Mine too.”

He hands you a spoon while you sit next to him, much closer than he was expecting. Denji heaves a sigh and grabs the remote, turning on an unexpected arthouse film you’ve never heard of. The silence of the title screen almost vibrates in your ears.

Denji glances at you with pursed lips, you still seem on-edge, but maybe a little calmer.

“Can I put my arm around ya?” He suddenly asks. He’s never gone out with a shy girl before; he figures the safest bet is to be super forward.

You nod, then his arm is over your shoulders, warm and big and surprisingly toned beneath his button up. You rest your head on his shoulder–it’s an awkward position but you focus on steadying your breath and try not to move.

He puts the ice cream container between his knees so he can open it one-handed, digging in while a character on screen writes a letter. But then he’s looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“...No chance you’re comfy like that.” He scoots his torso down a little lower. “‘S that better?”

You hum, making stupid eyes at him again. What is she thinking about??

“For real? Your shoulders are like made of wood right now.”

You internally cringe. You try to relax your body, nuzzling your head closer to his in a way that feels more natural and whispering the quietest sorry that was ever whispered.

“No no it’s… uh it’s okay. Just was worried about your neck.”

After a while of Denji silently watching the movie and you silently watching him through your peripheral, he holds the ice cream out to you. It’s getting slightly melty in the warm room. You go in with your spoon, but your hands are still a bit shaky and of course you end up with runny ice cream coating the front of your dress when you spill.

Denji immediately sits up, grabbing the pint and spoons while sucking air through his teeth.

“Shit. I’ll go grab a towel.” He half-jogs out of the room while you sit, suddenly cold from the ice cream and lack of extra body heat.

Maybe this is actually a good thing, you tell yourself. You’d honestly set out with the intention of getting fucked tonight. You just had to steel your resolve–this spill could be your opportunity to get the ball rolling. Denji returns quickly with arms bundled full of big towels. Then you’re giggling.

Giggling? This is a breakthrough for Denji.

“Never heard ya laugh before. What’s so funny?”

“I don’t think I need three bath towels.”

Denji blushes, “Oh…yeah. Guess maybe not.” He giggles with you. Then you’re standing as he wipes off your tummy, carefully avoiding your tits, despite the glob of ice cream still on them, as he tries to get as much pink out of the fabric as he can.

“Thanks Denji, I can get the rest.”

You take the towel and Denji averts his eyes as you thoroughly scrub your chest. You feel a little rueful, maybe you should’ve asked him to lick it off you. You shove the thought from your head; you definitely weren’t confident enough to pull that line yet. You put the towel down.

“Actually…Denji, I think I’m just going to take this off. It’s all gross now.”

Then it’s his turn to make stupid eyes. “Oh, like do you want a shirt?”

“No.”

You bite the inside of your cheek while you stare at each other for a beat. Then you’re slowly turning around.

“Unzip me?”

The gears in Denji’s brain just about stop. Like you’re pouring honey in his head, or no, melted strawberry ice cream, and now the cogs are all sticky. He stares at your back long enough for you to ask if he’s alright, but he doesn’t respond before his warm hand is on your shoulder, then he’s tugging the zipper down so slowly the dull click of the slider reaching the bottom makes you flinch. You face him again.

“Um. Is this okay?”

Denji nods vigorously. You hum while Denji’s brain goes on red alert. Okay. Okay, this isn’t what I expected to happen. Fuck what do I do.

You stare at the couch while you slide the dress straps off your shoulders, and somehow Denji is pulled back to his senses.

“Here-” he helps pull the dress off your arms then slides it to the ground.

“Oh my god.” Denji takes a second to look at your lingerie-clad body, unable to stop himself from staring. Matching bra and panties? Coordinating stockings all strapped together? He’s never seen a woman dressed like this besides in porno mags. What do I do??

“You can touch me,” You answer his thoughts. And Denji doesn’t think twice. His hand finds your shoulder first, tracing its way down the lacy garments like they’re a map leading somewhere important. The movie plays on in the background, forgotten, as you place your hands over his and smooth them over your bra, letting your body move based on instinct and desire instead of anxiety. If Denji was caught off guard by your stripping, he doesn’t show it as his movements become more confident–holding your tits together then letting them fall, running his hands over your soft tummy and sides, squeezing your curves.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbles, looking back to your face. Then you’re kissing him, tasting the light strawberry flavor that still lingers in his mouth. He's much gentler than you’d expected—most “desperate to please” men turned rough and assertive once you took your clothes off in your experience. He’s being sweet—it’s got you rubbing your thighs together and pouncing on him, shoving him clumsily back onto the couch. You don’t miss the small “woah” that falls from his lips when you straddle his lap immediately after.

Then you’re on his lips again, and he’s gripping your waist for stability while your kiss finds a rhythm. It’s so desperate—both of you—clinging to each other like you can’t get enough. You eventually move your mouth to his neck, finding his pulse point and marking him with a love bite, making him whimper, before pulling away to admire your handy work. And to catch your breath. You’re both struggling for air.

“…To be honest, I’m really surprised you’re wearin’ all this,'' Denji pants. “You didn’t seem like the type.” He takes your hand in his while he talks, playing with your rings.

“I always wear rings…”

Denji rolls his eyes and tugs on one of your garter belt straps, softly, like it might tear. He smiles up at you when you laugh.

“Oh, the lacy stuff? Just thought you might like it…”

You avert your eyes as it dawns on you how bold you inadvertently were. Denji groans and abandons your hand to touch your bra again.

“I do. Like it so much.”

Then he’s kissing your collar bone, gentle and shy, following a bra strap down with his lips. You don’t see the blush that floods his cheeks when you push his head a bit lower, guiding him so he’s sucking your tit through the sheer fabric. You feel sticky again, this time from saliva, as Denji licks and nibbles and sucks. This is cloud 9, he thinks.

You keep letting out little moans as he suctions onto your nipple, and soon he’s moaning with you when you tug his hair. Denji eyes you for a moment as if he’s asking for permission before scooping a hand into your bra, freeing a breast before resuming his nipple worship, and doing the same to the other one not long after.

Then he pulls away to grab your face and hold it close to his own.

“Y’’make the cutest sounds,” he breathes. You feel your face warm.

“I’ll make them cuter if you take your clothes off too,” you say. A light bulb practically flickers on above Denji’s head as his eyes widen. You giggle again.

Then he’s swiftly undoing his shirt buttons and ripping his arms out of the sleeves. He takes your hips in his hands, sliding you off his lap and onto the couch next to him so he can pull off his pants, too, leaving him in just his boxers. You give Denji a hungry look that leaves him dumbfounded. ‘S like she’s got two personalities.

Then you’re gripping his hand, pulling him down on top of you so you’re both laying on the couch, capturing his lips and wrapping your limbs around him.

Denji kisses like he’s savoring the taste, you kiss like you’re starving. Like you’re trying to steal the air from his lungs. Denji loves it—you make him feel flattered. It’s nice that you seem to want more of him just like he wants more of you.

So Denji drops his hips forward, brushing against your clit deliberately while you whine into his mouth. He’s so hard, and it makes sense that he would be, but it boosts your confidence to feel it confirmed. He grinds against you again and again, making your brain cloudier with every movement.

Soon he’s moving to your neck, trailing love bites beneath your jaw while you claw at his back, his fingers quickly tracing their way down to your panties. He rubs over them, lightly at first then with more pressure, circling your clit. It makes him happy how vocal you are throughout; he kinda expected you to be the silent type during sex stuff.

“Hey can I take these off?” Denji asks, playing with a bow on your underwear.

“Mhm!”

He begins tugging the fabric down eagerly, but is halted by the belts on your stockings. Denji pulls away from you, looking down at the garter like it’s a puzzle. He tries a few more tugs then scratches his chin.

“Could ya help me?” He mumbles.

You smile and reach down, swiftly unhooking the straps from your thigh highs before Denji is ripping your underwear down completely.

“So pretty,” he says. He sits and stares at you for a moment, hands kneading your thighs and practically drooling at the sight before him. You’re glistening.

“Denji. Do something…” you whisper, barely audible over the volume of the tv.

“Okay,” he breathes. Then he’s leaning down so his face is level with your pussy, sliding his hands over your hips and squeezing reassuringly. First he kisses the crease at your thigh, making you think he’s planning to tease you and take it slow, but then he immediately licks a fat stripe right through your center. You whine his name repeatedly as he starts licking in earnest, and Denji has to hook his arms around your legs to keep you still.

It’s so sticky. Everything tonight is sticky. Denji wouldn’t want it any other way, though. You taste tangy and a little sweet, and Denji wouldn’t mind dying with this flavor on his tongue. He’s so turned on and it shows! Sucking your clit like it’s his last meal, grinding into the couch and moaning into you—it’s perfect. Like Denji was made for eating pussy. Between your thighs, Denji’s certain he was.

When you start rocking your hips and panting, he knows you’re getting close, so he digs his fingers into your skin and rubs with his thumbs to try and soothe you throughout.

“Can’t-can’t take it, Denji,” you almost slur your words.

He just groans in response, sucking at the same pace he knows is working. You finish in record speed, crying out, and Denji doesn’t waste a drop of your release; he doesn’t stop licking till you have to ask him.

Then he’s kissing his way up your body to meet your lips again, making you taste yourself. You grab and scratch at his back while you return the kiss, surely leaving him marked with red streaks. And he must like your clawing because that only makes his kissing more feral. It’s still sweet, but now he’s using his teeth. At one point he bites your lip so hard it almost hurts.

Ugh you like him so much. He’s charming in a stupid way, like he could never trick you or treat you wrong on purpose—that’s why you asked him out. And now that you’re here you feel that energy confirmed; like his intentions are lewd but somehow still innocent. His bite only serves to make you feel yummy instead of scared… and like you want to bite him back.

Suddenly your hand is on his chest, pushing lightly so he pulls back before he’s letting you flip him over. His grin is shit-eating when you situate yourself atop him, straddling his clothed length. But he’s blushing ear to ear.

“Are you gonna ride me?” He asks. His tone holds the unveiled excitement of a kid unwrapping an Xbox on Christmas.

“Mhm.”

How you’re still managing to sound a little shy at this point is beyond Denji. But then you’re scooting back and palming his erection through his boxers, making no comment of the wet spot you left on them where you sat, and causing him to suck in a sharp breath. Then he whines when you pull down the fabric to spit on his dick.

There, Denji has his second lightbulb moment of the evening; you don’t have two personalities—you are really timid—you’re just also really horny. Horny enough to throw away your inhibitions and line him up with your entrance after just a few lazy strokes of your hand. She’s an angel.

“‘M putting it in now,” you murmur, locking eyes with Denji. He nods with a squeeze of your hips. You sink down slow on his length, one palm flat against his chest as you hold your breath due to the stretch. You both release a shaky exhale when you finally bottom out.

“Fuck.” Denji breathes, digging his fingers into your curves and resisting the urge to buck up into you. So wet.

“Y’feel… you feel.. so soft.”

What Denji really wants to say is that you feel like relief. He was verging on painful levels of hard during foreplay—it’s a wonder he didn’t cum from grinding on the couch. And it’ll be a wonder if he can last long now. From your pretty expression and warm walls, to your cute breathing, to your outfit—all Denji would have to do is think a little harder and he could finish before you even started moving. He has to take a few steadying breaths and hold you down a moment so he’s certain he can last longer.

When he lessens the pressure of his hands holding you down, you know you’re good to move.

So you try a hesitant rock of your hips, biting your lip to hold in an early moan. You’re so full! Denji just verges on too big—but with how drenched you already are, his size is fitting perfectly. So perfect that you find yourself instantly addicted.

You roll your hips a bit faster the next time, making Denji swear under his breath. Then again, then again, till his grip on your sides grows bruising and neither of you can hold in your whiny moans. When you peek at his face, Denji seems to be enjoying himself but he’s still holding his composure well… and what you really want is to see that composure break.

So you switch up your movements, pushing up with your knees and hands instead of rocking, then letting yourself fall with a wet slap. It feels so nice that you can’t stop. Now you’re tucking your feet so your weight is on your toes to go faster, gaining a rhythm while Denji spasms below.

He can’t stop himself from bucking up into you anymore, he can’t even control his voice, whimpering how you’re so hot and so tight over and over. You’re no better; your whines are probably heard throughout the whole apartment complex. Not that you care by now—Denji may be losing his composure but so are you.

Every bounce feels delicious, his cock hitting a deep spot that has you seeing stars while his rough hands play with your tits. You can’t hear the movie anymore; it’s just fuzzy background noise behind the clapping. You can’t even feel the pain of Denji’s fingers turning aggressive, tugging and pinching your nipples, you’re too caught up in the animalistic fucking.

“You f-feel... s’good,” Denji says, leaning forward to capture a nipple in his mouth. You look down when he pulls it gently between his teeth, making lidded eye contact. You slow down a bit and lean forward, resting your burning thighs for a moment.

“H-how... how good?”

Denji’s mouth pulls away with a soft pop.

“Like-haah!” He throws his head back when you start picking up speed again. “Like soo good. Like ‘m getting swallowed up. Your pussy’s just.. it’s just..”

You lean down to meet his lips sloppily before pulling back again.

“It’s- perfect,” he slurs. You smile and sit up, using your feet for stability again to fuck him harder.

“M’getting… I don’ think I can.. last much longer..” Denji says, wrapping his hands around your hips to guide you up and down.

You can only whine in response, leaning back on one palm and lifting a leg a bit while you bounce. The new angle is deep, pounding your g-spot and knocking the wind out of your lungs. It feels too good, too fast—you know you won’t last long either.

You find your voice to say his name. Over and over until you're almost yelling everytime Denji meets your hips. Denji subconsciously notes that this is the loudest he’s ever heard you talk.

Then you’re coming—groaning and gushing—and you lean forward again to dig your nails into Denji’s ribs. It’s the kind of release that hits you like a truck, dulling all senses but the one between your legs, dulling all senses but him.

Denji squeezes his eyes shut as you clamp down on him, overwhelmed by the sweet pressure but scared to come inside you. Till you’re mumbling, “s’okay.. okay.. in me,” and Denji doesn’t question it.

You sigh as you feel his hot cum fill your womb, thankful for the birth control you painstakingly swallow every morning.

Then you’re collapsing on top of him, still twitching slightly from orgasm, and tired beyond belief.

You both lay for a while, panting—you staring at the purple love bite left on his neck while he traced shapes on your shoulder, his soft cock still inside you. The movie is reaching its resolution in the background. Then he’s shifting to grab something off the floor, and holding up your lacy panties that you wore earlier.

“Can I, uh… keep these?”

You’re a little caught off guard; Denji’s been a better gentleman than most men you’ve had the pleasure of hooking up with, and none of them ever asked to keep your used underwear before. But you’re a little happy… it’s satisfying to know he’s as much of a perv as you are.

“Sure.”

Hehe anon i hope you like this, i appreciate u!!! yay csm premiere tmrw!!

#denji x reader #csm x reader #denji/reader #denji x you #denji x f!reader #chainsawman/reader #denji smut

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larmegliamori · 23 days

Text

Imagine asking to ask your followers what do draw and then picking the less voted option first.

Anyway here's my design for the one and only Magnifico Giganticus ✨

(Some design choices and symbolism rant under the cut, feel free to skip)

Ahhh, Magnifico, Magnifico... What can I say? He may not be my specific cup of tea, but I can definitely see where the appeal comes from.

If anything, I can thank Asimov for making him so distinguished in Foundation and Empire because I started drawing with a clear idea in my mind: make him as jester-y as possible.

I tried various outfits on him but all the trousers option didn't seem right on him, so I stuck with a pre-modern-like vest with added collar, belt, undervest and stockings. And, just in case you're wondering: yes, he's meant to have pointy shoes too.

This obviously meant a split design, which fits him like a glove: sure, he's the man who upset the Universe and broke the Seldon plan, he's a mutant wuth powers unheard of, he has ruled to Galaxy for as much as he could... but he's also a reject, someone with a frail body and that, after all, wanted nothing more than to be loved genuinely (and I guess that it doesn't necessarily romantic love... more like charity, iykyk).

This is also reflected in the sun/moon dichotomy I've tried to incorporate in his clothes: namely, the sun on his hat and the hem of his vest, but also the moon-shaped collar and the star pattern on the blue fabric (because after all we're in a Galaxy).

Also thanks to @the-l-spacer for pointing out he has a symbol -a planet being split in two by lightning- that I added at the end of his hat. It fits him but not the goal of his plan: guess graphic design isn't his passion (cit.).

Physically speaking, I guess I leaned more on his *sad* aspects: I really wanted him to look frail, hence I've tried to make his as thin as possible and gave him a long face to match his long nose, plus I gave him downturned eyes to make him look even more sad.

As for the short hair, I admit I just vibe with it more.

Last but not least, the yellow rose he's holding represents Bayta and the platonic feelings she had for him.

If you made it this far, congrats! I hope you liked the drawing, and if so remember to like and reblog and subscri-[BLASTER SHOT]

#come get your magnificunt everyone #and yes dors is coming too please bear with me #isaac asimov #foundation series #magnifico giganticus #the mule #fla does art

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marvelswinterfrost · 7 months

Text

Force of Gravity - Chpt. 1

Pairing: Loki x Bucky Barnes (MCU)

Summary: After the magician performs his last trick, it's time to go home. So when Loki plays his last card, he needs someone to protect him from the dangers of the realms. There is nowhere left to go but earth where he is looking for someone just as broken as him.

This story does not follow certain MCU plots after CACW - Bucharest.

... Barnes looked at him rather curiously.

"For someone in need of protection, you don't seem to be frightened." he growled as he mustered the man in front of him. He was taller, sure, but slimmer than he was, and probably weaker as well from how he looked. Not everyone had the perks of having a metal arm and super human strength.

"I suppose you are correct." Loki, as the man had claimed his name to be, said with a small but indeed noticable chuckle. It seemed to be genuine but had some arrogance to it. Seeing as he wore a nice suit with shiny, pointy shoes, Barnes thought it to be quite fitting.

"Listen, I don't know who you think I am, but I am not a bodyguard. Nor an assassin. I don't do these kind of jobs. And I don't kill people. You have to go and find someone else." Barnes said and tried to walk away once again. But instead of letting him past, Loki grabbed his upper arm with an unexpected strength. Barnes' look was alarmed, his eyes fixated on the big, veiny hand that gripped his biceps tightly. A barely audible 'what the hell' escaped the brown haired man's lips.

"But you used to." was all he said. Loki's voice wasn't cold. It was warm and his eyes seemed to softly glow in the afternoon sun. Despite the words bringing harsh and painful memories back to the soldier, he didn't feel as threatened as he thought he should be.

There hung a long silence between them.

"Please." to James it almost seemed like he was starting to desperately beg. The man in front of him tried his best to hide his fear but in the end his eyes betrayed him.

Barnes took a deep breath but nodded.

"Fine." His eyes narrowed and his head close to Loki's, he whispered threatingly. "But if I find out you are not who you told me to be, I will kill you myself."

With a sigh of relief, Loki nodded understandlingly. A few "thank you"s left the mans lips as he trotted after Barnes, supposedly taking him somewhere save.

After a while of walking, Barnes looked over his shoulder, making sure that his new dependent was still following him. As suspicious as he still was of this strange man, the thrill of being in charge pleased him immensely. It has been a while since anyone had come to him for help let alone ask him to play a personal bodyguard.

"You need to keep up."

"Yes, very well." Loki said as he jogged to Barnes' position. But the man in front of him didn't slow down.

"Would you be so kind and tell me where we are going?" Loki asked. To be fair, it was a valid question since he stood under Barnes' protection after all. Not knowing where they are headed was indeed reckless.

"Somewhere save." was the only answer he got.

They arrived at a run down apartment complex. Some of the windows were shattered and covered with plywood and paint that looked like it had been on the building for over 100 years was chipping off the wall in various places. They walked up the stairs, that seemed to never end, until they reached an old apartment door.

"We're here." Barnes said as he pulled a single key out of his pocket. The door creaked but didn't open fully due to something blocking it. They squeezed past it, entering a one bedroom apartment, that didn't have a single furniture in it. The only thing was an old matress on the floor. The windows were covered with newspapers from months ago.

"You can not be serious." Loki said in disbelieve. How could this man promise him safety when this - disgusting - room was in plain sight and easily accessible for everyone?

"This?! This is how you want to keep me save?! This is outrageous!"

"We're not gonna be save if you keep yelling like that. Be quiet." Barnes took his cap off and put the earlier bought plums onto a makeshift table made from a cardboard box.

"This apartment is disgusting!"

"But your only option from what it looks like."

"You promised to keep me save." Loki was on the edge of hopelessness. But Barnes remained silent. He opened the brown bag and pulled out two plums. He took one and carefully placed it onto the cardboard table and ate the other. For a short while everything was silent. Loki was still standing in the middle of the apartment, waiting for Barnes to explain himself and this joke he was brought into. But nothing came. He just kept staring at Loki.

"Alright, if you are certain, I think I need to trust you." Loki said defeated. He hated the fact that he had to accept... well...this.. but as Barnes had said, this was his only option and he couldn't take any risk.

Bucky was still silent but offered Loki the second plum with a mere glance. A little irritated and still furious, he grabbed it and inspected it.

"You need to lose your suit." Barnes said seemingly out of nowhere.

"Excuse me?" Loki asked in disbelieve, not liking the dorection this was headed in.

"It draws attention. We need to avoid it. It's best for you to change your look entirely. Cut your hair, change into normal clothes and look less like you're about to make a billion in finances."

"Absolutely not. You will not touch my hair."

"Suit yourself then." Barnes said and walked past Loki with an uncaring look. It really wasn't his problem if this man's stuborn mind wanted to act up. He threw away the plum's core into a plastic bag that probably was his trash bin.

"I can't believe I - a god - am forced to do this." he complained once again. But that sentence caught Barnes off guard.

"A what?" he scoffed. "I figured you had some sort of god complex but I didn't know it was this bad." at this point Barnes had to laugh. The conversations with this man seemed to get more and more ridicolous.

"I AM a god, you fool."

"Then why don't you protect yourself? I am sure a god can do that just fine."

Loki was silent. Yes... he could have, if he hadn't been getting weaker and weaker by day. Although there was still some magic and power inside of him, it was far from where it had been. He used to be above any midgardian, as it should be.

"Your midgardian brain wouldn't comprehend, Sargent Barnes." he said, staring at the floor. The heat in his tone was gone, replaced with painful memories.

But Barnes remained silent. He didn't know what to say. Loki seemed to share some of his pain but hid it behind his arrogance. So maybe he should let Loki play god a little and feed his own illusions.

"So you say that me changing my appearance will keep me save?" Loki interrupted his thoughts, sounding a little bit more hopeful then before, although still annoyed.

"It won't insure it, but it will help."

With a nod, Loki straightened his back. A green light engolfed his slender form and blinded Barnes in the process. Once the light vanished, James opened his eyes again. The once snobby looking man with long black hair that stood in front of him was now clothed in a simple black hoodie, with black jeans. His hair was now shoulder length but still looked greasy. The fancy shoes he wore were replaced with regular black sneakers as well. Loki hated it.

"My god." James whispered. Maybe this strange man really was a higher being.

"Well, if you want me to be." Loki said with a smug grin.

TBC

...

Prologue

#winterfrost #loki #marvel #bucky barnes #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #bucky #fanfiction #bucky/loki #lokixbucky

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milune-vox · 1 year

Text

The Dawn fo Redeeming Grace (chapter 2)

previous chapter - next chapter

You can also read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43003029/chapters/111238186#workskin

Chapter 2:

Hob has been alive for a long time. He went through many ways of life, many ways of keeping a place. Derelict, messy, pristine, outsourced.

Nowadays, he thinks he has managed to find some sort of balance. The place might be overcrowded, but it is relatively ordered, and thoroughly clean. Many artifacts line the shelves, relics of his past lives he has kept and lost and found again, a large collection of books among them, overflowing from the shelves in high piles on the ground.

From a Londonian perspective, this place truly and well is luxury : 70m2, modern appliances, a balcony, a bathtub the size of a small jacuzzi (running hot water was one of mankind's best inventions, and he'd been remiss if he didn't enjoy it as thoroughly and as often as possible).

Maybe now is not the time to think about the fact he has enough room for two people in his bathtub.

He removes his vest, hangs it, removes his shoes as well.

He had spent a bit of time in Japan this century, and had picked up on a few habits, namely that of having several pairs of slippers at the ready for guests. Dream follows his lead silently, with a focused look on his face as if he were doing these gestures for the first time (which, with how otherworldly he looks and is, might be the case).

Seeing his regal, otherworldly, proud friend in a pair of fluffy cat-faced slippers, with googly eyes, pointy ears and all, is making his heart go really fast in his chest and a grin creeps up on his face.

A bunch of colorful woolen birds are perched on the coat hanger, and Dream stares at them curiously.

"Ah, yeah, guess they clash a bit with the dark academia theme going on, but a student felted them by hand and gifted them to me, so I definitely had to give them the limelight they deserve.”, he laughs quietly.

A faraway look on Dream’s face, a wistful smile, as he says:

"There is a raven among them."

"Oh, yes. He's got the cutest little eyes doesn't he? My student is quite talented, eh?”

"Hmm," comes the wordless acquiescence.

"Coat?" Hob asks politely.

Dream seems to hesitate, for a second, and Hob, noticing his discomfort, is about to tell him he can keep it on– but then the man- god- being, removes it and places it by Hob's vest on the hanger. He is left in nothing but a very closely fitted t-shirt. His arms are pearly white, his skin completely smooth, reminiscent of a marble statue. He can see a bit of collarbone and tries not to picture himself tracing its sharpness with his fingers. The thought escapes his grasp nonetheless, so he looks away, trying to collect himself.

Right.

What now?

He remains an Englishman, through and through. When in doubt…

"Tea?" he asks with a smile, projecting a confidence he thoroughly does not feel.

A beat. Dream has a calculating look on his face. Then, he swallows, in a disarmingly human way, and his eyes escape to assess the trinkets lined on the shelves.

"I would be amenable." he says, and it has the ring of an admission, voice low and soft, and Hob should really stop shivering every time his friend opens his mouth, shouldn't he?

“You can sit down on the couch.”

Swiftly, Dream does as ordered, and he sits back fairly relaxed, reminiscent of the posture he had adopted downstairs. Hob, having felt a bit of hesitation in his friend before, almost expected to have to guide him to the couch, and to find that he would comply so readily makes him feel a tad unbalanced. He stands there for a second, in a half-aborted movement, looking at Dream, his Stranger, his centennial Friend, seated on his couch, in his living room, like it is the most normal thing in the world, like they do that every other sunday.

Life really does take a turn for the best, sometimes, does it not? For the strangest, also.

His head is vaguely spinning. It’s brilliant.

“Hm, yeah, right. Tea,” he reminds himself, and leaves for the open kitchen a few steps away.

He feels Dream’s gaze following him, boring in the back of his head. Shivers run down his back. Miraculously, he manages to fall back into his routine, retrieving his fanciest tea, a high quality blend of black tea, spicy and citrusy, that he always reserves for guests, and pouring a decent amount in his fanciest tea-pot (a china with blue, intricate floral motifs), he assembles a decent tea tray, retrieving some biscuits from the cupboards as the water boils.

He glances over at the street from the windows above the sink. Condensation grips the edges of the glass. The sun, below the horizon, sheds its last rays to turn the world a beautiful eerie pink. The glow engulfs the streets and provides a sense of unsettlement and wonder. The familiar sights are so impossibly foreign to him now, as if things of his daily life couldn’t coexist with the fact that his oldest friend, the very one he'd thought he might have lost forever, is at this very moment casually sitting in his living room.

The water has reached its boiling point, and he retrieves it, pouring it from high into the teapot, to try not to burn the leaves.

“Here you go” he announces softly, making his careful way to the living room, focusing on not messing up the tray and putting it on the small table in front of the couch. His hands are a bit shaky, he notices.

His friend’s presence is doing things to him, alright.

He sits at his side, struggling to know exactly what distance to put between them, but the need to have access to what is on the table doesn’t leave him with much of a choice. Their thighs almost touch, and to his relief, Dream doesn’t recoil from the proximity. He racks his brain for something to say, the unreality of it all getting under his skin. The air feels electric.

His brain does provide. His curiosity has always been his best flaw, after all.

“So. Bit of something I picked up from what you told me downstairs.” he starts, leaning back, as casually as he can, putting on his most carefree smile, which, he knows, probably comes out more timidly than usual. “You have subjects? Actual subjects?” He raises his eyebrows and a glint of amusement shines in his friend’s eyes. “Always thought you looked posh enough to be nobility, but-”

“I am Dream of the Endless.” Dream interrupts, as if it were answer enough.

“Of the Endless’” he ponders, linking it to what he knows of particle names, “-that a place?”

“It is what we are. Endless.”

“We?”

“Me and my siblings.”

Siblings. He sits with this new information, trying to picture his mysterious friend with… a family. He’s delighted. Confused. Having the time of his life. Unconsciously, he gets closer, leaning forward like he is discussing the best gossip in existence.

“... So. Okay. You belong to this, hm, Endless family, and you rule over-”

Dream’s lips curl up in an amused smirk.

“Dreams.”

He looks mightily self-satisfied. Hob scoffs.

“Yeah, pretty obvious that one I guess.”

His eyes drift back to the table and he remembers the tea.

“Ah, right.”

He pours a generous amount in both their cups.

“So, You’re the King of Dreams.”

“And Nightmares.”

“... I assume those are less easy to rule.”

Dream’s face contorts into something akin to a grimace.

“They can be… challenging. Unruly.”

“The way you talk about them… They sound like people. Are they- people? The Dreams, and the Nightmares?”

“In a way. They may be my creations, and under my rule; however, they can show agency. Which can prove… unfortunate, in some instances.”

“Ok. There’s definitely a story here."

The playful tone of his voice is met with a faraway look, and he feels worry start to crawl back into his abdomen, feeling instinctively that, once again, he is breaching a difficult subject, and that he ought to tread carefully. Dream lets him agonize in his anxious musings for a while longer, pursing his lips at the edge of his cup, and, carefully, taking a tentative sip. He swallows it down, his Adam's apple rising and falling, and Hob feels a part of himself try to throw him off his concerns and on better, nicer, hornier thoughts. He lets them slide like water on his skin, taking a deep breath, focusing back on the matter at hand.

After a few seconds of deep thought, seemingly finding the taste satisfactory, Dream takes another infinitesimal sip, and, keeping the mug near, nearly shielding his face with it, he finally says in a soft, equal tone:

“I was looking to retrieve a dissiding nightmare when I was summoned. … I wouldn’t have been able to be captured had I not been roaming your world in his search."

Hob swallows a lump in his throat. Dream adds with a distant look about him, like he is quoting someone else :

"Dreams rarely survive in the waking world.”

These words infiltrate his mind and crack at his bubble of safety. Was this the reason why they only met once every hundred years? A sense of impending doom catches him by the throat, and he freezes, tense:

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

“Yes. The knowledge that has been used against me has since been erased from this plane.”

There is a finality, a gravity to the words, and Hob's mind pictures a razing fire annihilating every last bit of forbidden knowledge, leaving only ashes in its wake.

He relaxes, letting go of a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. He then catches Dream watching him with something akin to affection in his gaze, which triggers his laugh, a quick, flustered little thing, and a sigh- he's too full of, of,- too many things. Information, fear, anger, anguish, relief, joy. He nods determinedly.

“Good.”

Swirls of smoke from the tea catches his attention. He watches the particles rise up in the air, dancing with the dying light of the evening. He absentmindedly thinks he ought to turn the lights on, it is starting to get dark. He grants himself a bit of reprieve sipping at his cup. To his surprise, Dream mirrors his movement and does the same. The synchronization makes his stomach flutter. He pushes himself back to the conversation, trying to think of something other than the marvelous feeling of contentment and peace he gets by simply sitting alongside his friend like this.

“So, did you find him? The nightmare.”

Dream's expression sours again, answering in his stead before words leave his lips.

“I did not. He is not the only one missing. I have yet to start looking for them. Many left during my captivity. Few remained. They believed I had abandoned them.”

He remains cold, impassive, but his eyes, as always, betray him. Hob feels his heart break all over again.

"But you wouldn't have."

"You would be certain of it, when I have left you in the past."

The muscles in his jaw tense minutely. This is not a memory he wishes to revisit, not when his friend, which he can now, truly indeed, call his friend, is spending an evening drinking tea in his flat. He breathes in and out, and, staring at his overcrowded library, gaze brushing aimlessly on the spines of many loved stories, finding comfort in it like one would by grazing the fur of a cat, he admits painfully:

“I did believe you would return, at some point. … I’m… sorry I did not believe it enough to go look for you when you didn't show up.” His fists close in shame. “If I had-"

“You need not apologize. I gave you no reason to believe otherwise. ... Perhaps my people also did not have reason to believe I would return.”

“Hm.”

“You seem to disagree?”

Hob runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it up a bit. This might be too forward, but, he has always been one to run his mouth. It has served him well, and badly, and such is life, and such is he. He takes a deep breath and explains:

"Call it a hunch, I guess. You just seem to be... dutiful? Like the kind of person married to their jobs. I can't really see you-” He tries and fails to find an adequate comparison and just goes for the first one his mind provides “-fucking off to Las Vegas and leave your responsibilities behind."

"I would, indeed, not do as such."

Dream nods solemnly, and Hob is pretty much certain that the incongruity of the comparison has gone over his head. His obliviousness is… endearing. He continues, succumbing to the pull to tease:

"See, after a few hundred years, I got a tad perceptive. In my next life, I might become a private detective. Get a southern accent and brightly coloured neckerchiefs." He stops, scoffing at himself. "... You probably won't get that reference, sorry. Great movies, though. You should watch them, sometimes."

With me, he doesn't add.

Dream blinks slowly at him. Hob feels judged, much in the way he does when a cat stares at him, secretive, regal, and yet, soothing. In the space of this silent staring, he takes further notice of their closeness, and his skin tingles with the realization. If he were to hunch over but a few centimeters on his right…

“... You are welcome to stay as long as you’d like, you know.”, he offers a bit weakly, pretty much certain he is far too close to crossing a line –again.

To his surprise, instead of a polite, short decline and an abrupt exit, Dream relaxes further into the couch, and, crossing his legs, he hangs his left arm on the back of the couch, almost encircling Hob’s shoulder. It brings him naturally closer to him, whose heart promptly goes into arrhythmia.

“You built me an inn, Hob Gadling.”, and his smirk reminds him too much of this particular, obscenely attractive facial expression he had made on their 1789 meeting. Hob swallows and readily admits (he would have admitted to anything in this moment, let alone to the truth):

“... Yes? Yes I did.”

“You awaited my return.”

Can he drown in someone else’s eyes, literally? It seems like maybe he is experiencing precisely this. The deepest ocean, distant stars reflected on its waves.

Truth spills out of him, as sure and steady as a stream.

“As long as I live… I always will.”

There’s a moment in which he imagines getting closer still, and his eyes briefly flicker to plush, pink lips, and-

“You proved more faithful than most of my subjects.”

At this, Dream seems genuinely confused, and intrigued.

Hob scoffs, his cheeks insufferably warm. Right. He scoots a bit on his left, trying to escape the powerful pull to get closer. He feels like a planet ripping himself from its sun. Lost in the vacuum of space. A part of him scolds him for being dramatic. He manages to put his mind back in place, after a small coughing fit.

“Well. Not a subject." He waves dismissively. "My loyalty doesn't come from feudality.”, he reclaims his mug to try and busy his hands, his lips, restless.

“Where does it come from, then?”

Hob is positively hiding behind his cup now, facing straight in front of him. He feels Dream leaning closer to him, and the weight of his unfathomable, otherworldly eyes on him. The air is heavy, he cannot breathe properly anymore. His brain is going in too many directions at once -can he see me blushing-can he read thoughts-why would he ask then-why would he stay then-what if he were to pin him to the couch-what then-

“I just... like your company." He manages to say, shrugging in the most casual way possible. "Even if you can be...”, he adds, feeling compelled to add something less positive, to tamper his ecstatic state.

“Speak freely.”

He can now see Dream's face in his peripheral vision, for he is much too close to his own.

“Even if you can be a bit too prideful for your own good. Or mine.”, Hob mumbles, lips almost pressed to the ceramic, knuckles white in their grip around the mug.

He feels a puff of air on his temple, and shivers. Then, Dream’s silhouette retracts, going back to his side of the couch.

“I suppose this is a fair assessment.” He begrudgingly admits with a rather adorable- banish the thought- pout.

The distance between them is reestablished, and Hob can breath again. He is still terribly unsettled. Grappling for a bit of familiarity, he asks:

“You are not going to ask me the question?”

He turns briefly to watch his reaction : Dream frowns, seemingly confused.

Time to elaborate. Hob makes his posture rigid, his face severe.

“Do you still wish to live, Hob Gadling?” he says, in a frankly piss-poor impression of his friend's low, deliberate tone, but it is worth it for the genuine smile that graces his beautiful features, accompanied with a small huff that, for anyone else, would have been a laugh. The immortal man breaks himself into a chuckling mess, too happy to have been the one responsible, and coming down from the previous tension.

“Didn’t we establish that this inquiry was not my reason for coming?” Dream teases back, chin up in a challenge, and were he not seated, Hob would have felt weak in the knees.

“Yes, but I find myself eager to answer.”

“Hob Gadling. Do you still wish to live?"

"Yes. Even more so now. I must say, though, it is indeed a terribly stupid thing to ask when we’re meeting. Why would one want to cut short a meeting with you by accepting death? Agreeing never to see you ever again? Nah.”

“... I hadn’t thought of it this way. I suppose… I too would be rather disappointed for our meetings to be interrupted by my sister.”

“... Your sister?”

“Death.”

“... Your sister is Death.”

He lets Hob simmer in his bewilderment, unbothered, and sips quietly at his tea. Then, he briefly freezes, seemingly thinking of something.

“She says hi.”

He goes back to drinking, as if he hadn't shaken up Hob's world to its foundations.

“... Okay. Well." Hob clears his throat, feeling something he cannot describe with words. Apathy? Euphoria? Horror? He couldn't possibly say. "Say hi back, if you see her sometimes.” He answers tentatively, a bit too high pitched. Dream doesn't seem to notice his small panic, or he is ignoring it on purpose. He simply nods dutifully and promises:

“I shall.”

Hob then erupts in laughter. He has to put down his mug lest he splashes them both with how bad he is shaking. Glancing at Dream and being faced with a look of quiet confusion, head tilted like a curious bird, he feels his amusement redoubling. He tries to breathe, to explain:

“Sorry, small existential crisis here- or, ah, paradigm shift, if you will-ah, I’m going to get over it soon, no worries.” He rubs his eyes, practically crying from the sheer absurdity of it all.

Dream simply stares at him, cup low for the first time since they had started drinking. An open, amused expression softens his sharp features.

“I understand, knowledge of the Endless isn’t meant for your kind.”

"Oi, I'm sure I could blow your mind too if I wanted, with my pitiful human knowledge!"

"Is that so?"

"Yeah! ... "

He has no idea what he is going to do, or say, next. Suddenly, realizing that the light has dimmed much too significantly, he draws out his smartphone, and, opening the smarthouse app, he prepares himself to click on a button, raising it with great showmanship.

"We've got magic now."

He taps on the screen. The light fixtures above them light up.

Dream blinks. There is a beat. Another. Then, his jaw detaches itself ever so slightly, and he seems on the verge of words, but they do not come. Hob knows to recognize the sight of victory.

"Ah! Told you!"

"This is not magic."

"What is magic but misunderstood science?"

He thinks, perhaps, he has offended him, but, slowly, Dream shakes his head in disbelief, another smile, genuine, if a bit confused, creeps up on his lips.

A bird caws. Hob wouldn't have noticed it, if it hadn't felt so weirdly close.

Delicate, pale hands put the mug down slowly onto the coffee table. He looks more tense, but a small smile, shadow of the one he had arbored so readily all along their meeting, remains. Slowly, dragging his words with something like regret, he bows his head towards him, announcing:

"I must take my leave of you."

Hob tries not to wince. The choice of words makes him feel uncomfortable. He hears, as clear as if it were yesterday “Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong.”. A blizzard of fear seizes his chest, and he is compelled to do something, now, before it is too late.

"I... We are friends, are we not?"

"We are."

"I am quite certain friends meet each other more often than once a century."

Please do not leave me again, please do not leave me again, please do not-

"I suppose they do, yes."

The bird caws again, louder. Dream rises to his feet. Hob gets up too, on wobbly knees, already feeling the loss of his presence like a gaping wound in his chest.

"I shall see you soon, Hob Gadling."

The wound fills itself with the honeyed warmth of hope.

"Dream." He nods back.

They stare at each other for a few more moments.

There is yet another caw, even closer, somehow, and the distinct sound of something sharp tapping on his kitchen's window. Hob frowns and turns around, quite pissed off about the interruption. ... Is that a raven?

When he turns back around to his friend, he is gone.

His eyes search for him in vain.

He looks down at his feet.

… Sand?

Dream... The King of dreams… Realization strikes him like a freight train.

"Oi, my friend is the actual Sandman."

He lets himself have a minor breakdown here and there, and falls to his knees a bit dramatically.

He has, after all, a lot to process.

And most importantly, he has this unending joy to feel : "Soon" he had said. "I shall see you soon." Hob repeats to himself, delighted tears threatening to spill over.

And as always, the immortal man would be waiting for his dearest, oldest friend. However long "soon" would turn out to be, as long as he lived.

Always.

#the sandman fanfic #dreamling #morpheus x hob #hob gadling #morpheus #dream of the endless #the sandman

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annieandro · 4 months

Text

Alfred is a boy with the best of sneezes; He says, "a'choo" When He Pleases. We all sneeze and just say, "choo," but he says, a, a, a, a'choo.

Beautiful buttons are all you see; The brightest buttons are on Ben. His buttons are better than any you'd buy Because they're his body, his back and his eye.

Cotton candy, sweet and thin, Makes Cassie's soft, sticky skin. And her cotton candy bones Are giant cotton candy cones.

Duchess had no appetite, Though she tried to eat with all her might. Then Duchess decided if she had to eat, Delicious doughnuts would be her treat.

Edward likes exercise so well He always carries his barbell; He exercises an exciting way; With exercise energy he saves the day.

Frank has feet that are funny. His feet make him hop like a funny bunny. His feet don't fit into any shoe. Poor Frank! What shall he do?

Gooey gum, gooey gum, goes with Gabby. Goodness gracious, Gooey gum is a sight to see! Gobs and gobs of gooey gum-chewing it all day. Her gooey gum is sugarless: She'll have no tooth decay!

Hayley has horrible hair. Haircuts are too much for her to bear. Her hair is horrid and always a mess; But she is quite happy that way, I guess.

Ichabod is very, very bright-He's been inventing day and night! Imaginative ideas pop into his head And he never stops thinking Till it's time for bed.

A junky jewel or junky' toy Makes Jeffery jump for joy. Anything that's thrown away is a joy for Jumbled Jeffery.

Kicking Kevin, Kicking Kevin, Kicking games are he'll play. Kick, kick, kick, kick, Kicking games are all he'll pick.

Lovely lemon lollipops just for Lila; Lila love lemon lollipops very, very well. Lollipops lollipops lovely to lick, Lollipops lollipops on a lollipop stick.

May must munch and munch; Sandwiches make a marvelous lunch. Her mouth is munching all day long; She eats so much She's mighty strong.

Nayomi's nose is a nose that is had by no others; Not even her nieces or nephews or brothers.She has nifty fingers and very nice toes, But she has a noise instead of a nose.

Owen, the Optimist, is so nice, that's so! He's the most optimistic optimist, you will ever know. With such a cheerful outlook, No room for gloom or doubt look That's our Owen!

Pointy Patches are all we see When we peek at Pearl. Her patches of blue and patches of yellow Make Pearl a pointy-patch fellow.

Poor Quiet Quillinda has nothing to do. She just hangs around Not making a sound.

Rubber bands, rubber bands: That's Richard. He winds up rubber bands to drive his car. Rubber bands, rubber bands, ripping down the street. Regular racing drivers think his car is really neat.

Sara has super socks; She keeps them in a secret box. Super socks need special care, But super socks are great to wear.

Tiana's Teeth are terribly tall. Her teeth are the tallest teeth of all. Tiana's toothbrush must hold tight or fall, Brushing the top of teeth so tall.

Usher's Umbrella goes upsy-daisy; It tells us all not to be lazy. Under and over, around and through, Fly with the umbrella and Usher.

Her Name Is Velma, and she's very vain. Her vests are never dull or plain. She wears velvet vest of varied blends To visit with her very best friends.

Wally with your wonderful wink, We are wondering what you think. We wish you could tell us when and why You will wink your winking eye.

Where does Xavier belong? His parts are altogether wrong. Is he singer, clown, or dancer? He doesn't seem to know the answer.

Yawning Yogi is his name, And he plays a yawning game. When he yawns, you'll find it true that you, yourself, are yawning, too.

Zoe uses zipping zippers To zip her coats and gloves and slippers. Zoe won't have laces for her shoes; A zipping zipper is all she will use.

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frilly2023 · 10 months

Text

A Complete Evening 🚼📸👘🍼🧬🎩🐠🐠🐠🪼🫧🫧🥩🌱⛲️💘

The orchestra were dining at a fancy restaurant, so happy to share comradery in comfort and delight. Love seemed to be falling on them, like grace and glitter.

Frilly was lying in a slightly reclined babyseat by the smaller girls of the orchestra, some chitchatting, some eating some of the appetizers. Frilly didn't have a blanket on. She had on her party dress. The girls of the orchestra had evening gowns on, slightly thinner than their performance dresses. They were different colors and some with glitter. Frilly's party dress was like a skater's dress and below her knees. It was a cross between bubblegum and rose pink. It was thick, soft, and shiny. The edges were dark rose almost maroon. She had a sash in front of shiny rope, also dark rose almost maroon and a little shiny. Her stockings were also dark rose almost maroon, and she had thick shiny knee high socks over them, also shiny, a little glittery, and a dark rose almost maroon. She had boots that buttoned up, which were a pale, shiny pink with darker buttons. They were a little rounded a little pointy to fit her little baby's feet. She didn't have gloves since she was going to finger some of her food, probably. She had her nice, little drawstring bag with some money of hers, her toothbrush and toothpaste neatly ceiled, "dental floss," hair things of a brush, comb, spray, and glitter, perfume, tissues, and probably not much else. Andre Rieu had her baby bottle, neatly ceiled, since no one else either was trustworthy and responsible enough or were too little and therefore invalid to request. Her hair was more bent today, like big crimps. She has glitter on it and her perfume. She has her jewels around her neck like a choker and around her wrists and now even anklets but no rings and ears not pierced. She started to wiggle her shoes and looked up and perched up, feeling a little better than before. Andre Rieu came over, since he already knew, and picked her out of her seat as she squirmed some but aroused to him as he cradled her and carried her over to the area he was seated and decided to hold onto her while he talked to some of the people of the orchestra. The restaurant brought her a high chair with a nice tray, and she asked to sit with the girls of the orchestra. She had something fancy and a smoothie and juice and water with ice. She had a nice dessert. The girls were having fun and looking over at other people at the table. When it was time to leave, the waiters and waitresses helped Frilly down. They all used the bathroom successfully. They exited and walked along a fancy area with nice plants. It was in Southeastern Florida in November.

Andre Rieu was bombarded with lots of offers to flirt, as any famous person does, today. So, he took his opportunity to look down to some of the little girls of the orchestra and they knew he was their father. He took them one by one and comforted them and touched them and they were so close.

Frilly, at one point found herself by Andre Rieu, again, and he said he missed her but saw she was having fun. He embraced her, in his arms, part of the walking and said, "I know you're tired, little girl." So, he stroked her as he held her comfortingly as she fell asleep.

They went to sleep at an inn in a village together. Frilly had to be dressed for bed and crawled over to the little girls but had to sleep in a bed alone.

They took a cruise home.

0 notes

moneymasnn · 2 years

Note

Part two for ‘an audience’ were like a day later or so you and Mason can hear noises coming from the living room when you enter the house after date night and you shush Mason to listen and the both of you realise Nathan must have someone over and haven’t made it to the bedroom either and you two walk in on them, causing the same scene Nathan did but for fun and Nathan just can’t believe what just happened when Mason says they are now even 👀

Pay backs a bitch...|Mason Mount

This is Part 2 to 'An Audience', you can read part 1: here or part 3: here

Notes: Its a little bit short, but I loved this idea omg!!!!

Warning: Swearing, suggestions to sex.

"Shut up!"

You say, lightly hitting Masons shoulder as you both tumbled out of your Uber and into his front door.

It was date night, so you were both slightly tipsy and managed to find absolutely anything funny, since you both spent the last 5 minutes outside, laughing at the funny looking plant pot outside his house.

When you walk though the door, trying to stifle your laughs incase Nathan was home and asleep, you plop your self on the small stool by the door as you go to untie your high heals.

When you grab the lace that was wrapped around your ankles your eyes avert to the back pointy pair of heals that were thrown on the lobby floor.

You look up at Mason and back down to the shoes, a smirk appearing on your face as you realised Nathan must have some female company.

"What?" Mason giggles as he laughs at your little smirk, clearly not noticing the obvious pair of heals on the floor.

You look back at him and back at the shoes, raising your eyebrows, causing Mason to turn and look at the two shoes sprawled out on the floor.

"You really shouldn't leave them pointy things on the floor you know, bet that would go right through my foot like a nail-"

"Mase." you interrupted him, "They're not my shoes."

"What?" Mason questions, his brows furred as he looks back at the shoes. He then notices Nathans jacket thrown on the floor by the door to the living room, realising there was a trail on clothes.

"Oh. My. God." Mason says, as he slaps his hand on his face, trying to hold in an excited laugh.

You quickly sit up as you tip toe next to him, "You know what this means?" you whisper to him.

And in unison you both say, "Pay back."

You and Mason tip toe over to the door, as Mason places his ear against the wall, you both cover your mouthes at the noise of what was clearly Nathan and a girl, and the faint muffled noises of giggling and moaning.

"Be as dramatic as possible." Mason wipers as he points to the handle.

"Oh who said GCSE drama wouldn't come in handy." You wink at him as you stand up straight.

With that Mason pushed the door open as you try carry on your convocation to make it seem more realistic.

"So anyways, that when I was like-" but you were interrupted by a scream as Mason starts to yell, dramatically turning around and covering his eyes.

"What the fuck Nathan!" Mason shouts, repeating Nathans words from the previous week.

"Nathan, ewwwwwwwww, not the sofa." You shout after Mason.

Mason throws his head back against the doorway as he holds his hands to his face.

"My eyes, My eyes!" he yells, being just as dramatic as Nathan was.

As you and mason both turn to each other and giggle at the sight Nathan shuffling around in embarrassment.

"Guys get out!" Nathan laughs, as he caught on to what you were doing.

You and Mason pull the door to almost close it, as you both stand outside making gagging noises that he can clearly hear.

When Mason finally fully closes the door you both high five as you're both in fits of laughter.

But Mason knocks on the door opening it slightly as he shouts something to Nathan.

"Ive got that controller you wanted by the way, you look a little busy right now so where should I leave it?" But Mason never received a reply as Nathan juts huffed loudly.

"Fuck the both of you!" You hear Nathan shout through the door.

"Pay backs a bitch Nathey!" you shout back as you and Mason run up the stairs, your stomachs hurting from all the laughter.

Updated Master list

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount fic #mason mount smut #mason mount x reader #chelsea #england nt #ben chilwell #chelsea fc #footballer imagine #football #footballer x reader #football imagines

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sourwulf · 3 years

Text

best friends — isaac lahey x reader

༄ word count — 1.7k

፨ characters — isaac lahey

☓ tw — none

⊹ cw — none

✎ masterlist

─

staring in the mirror at your features made you realize how little you actually liked them. they fit together like an intricate puzzle, but not one you were satisfied with. you thought you were fairly pretty, but not beautiful, and you wished you were beautiful because you wanted to be enough for isaac.

isaac was your best friend, and had been for about three years. you’d met freshman year and had been inseparable ever since. you had been through everything together — his dad’s death (and abuse), him being bitten by derek hale and turned into a werewolf, and everything that came along with it.

you knew he never considered you more than a friend. you could feel it in your gut. but, despite that, you were madly in love with him. you had been for two and a half years. about seven months went by before you realized your feelings, but when you did, they hit you like a brick wall.

it was halloween of your freshman year of high school. isaac was big into dressing up, even if he didn’t go out. usually they were just small costumes, but this time, he went all out. he dressed up as a wizard, wearing a purple and black cloak, and he carried a staff. he had a tall and pointy hat that matched the cloak, and he wore a fake gray beard that hung down to his belly button. he was a huge dork about it and did his best to speak in only old english the whole night.

when you saw him in it you cracked up, and he put a “spell” on you to make you like it, and you played along.

since then, every day had been absolute hell for you. every single thing he did only made you fall more and more in love with him. sure, you had been through rocky times — like when his attitude shifted to him being a cocky twerp after being bit.

but he had you wrapped around his finger and won you back within a week. you couldn’t stay mad at him, as much as you hated to admit it. after all, you were in love with him.

you two stayed at each other’s house a lot, which started rumors amongst your friends, who teased the two of you about it. at first, your parents were wary about allowing it but became more lenient after a little while when they realized you were just friends.

and fast forward to tonight, isaac was coming over to your house to stay with you. you were already laying in bed reading a book when he knocked on your door.

“hey,” he said as he walked in, laying his stuff down on your desk.

“hey.”

“whatcha reading?”

“oh, the book thief.”

“haven’t you already read that, like, a million times?”

“yes, but it’s a good book.”

he nodded as he kicked his shoes off. “how was your day?”

he always asked this question, genuinely interested in how your day was every time, which only helped you fall in love with him.

“eh. it could’ve been better. yours?”

“same.”

“how’s scott?”

“he’s good. studying with stiles and allison.” he sat down in front of you, leaned against the footboard of your bed.

“i’m surprised they’re not running from a ghost or something,” you joked, making him laugh.

“don’t jinx them.” you just smiled, redirecting your eyes back to your book. “oh, i have some news,” he said with excitement suddenly prominent in his voice.

“do you?”

“i met this girl.” as soon as the words came out of his mouth, your heart dropped. “in one of my classes. we got paired for a project and i made some dumb joke and she thought it was hilarious. she gave me her number. i spent like three hours on the phone with her before i came over.”

you nodded as nicely and convincingly as possible. “th-that’s great! what’s her name?”

“crystal. she’s super sweet.”

“wow. i’m-i’m happy for you.” sadness was laced in your voice, and he seemed to notice.

“you okay?”

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine. all good.”

“y/n, i’ve known you long enough to know when you’re lying. did i say something?”

you sighed. “isaac, really, it’s fine. i don’t feel like talking about it.” he reached over and snatched your book out of your hands, and you groaned. “give me that back.”

“not until you tell me what’s bothering you.”

“i said i don’t want to talk about it.”

“well, too bad.”

you sighed. “fine, just... just give me the book back.” you reached out and he handed it to you.

“now, tell me what’s up.”

“we’re best friends... right?” you asked after a few seconds.

“yeah, of course, we are.”

“just best friends?”

“uh... i don’t think i follow.”

you stared at your book for a moment. “isaac...” you physically couldn’t make yourself say what you were trying to. ‘i’m in love with you,’ you thought. but your brain refused to make your mouth form those words.

“what?” you didn’t answer. “what is it, y/n?”

you closed your eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly.

“isaac... i... i’m in love with you.”

as soon as the words left your mouth, all you wanted was to take them back. you knew you had just ruined your friendship with him, which you didn’t want.

you finally looked at him to see a shocked and empathetic look on his face. and as soon as you saw it, you knew he didn’t feel the same.

“what?”

“i’m really sorry. i just... i needed you to know.”

“how long?” he asked simply.

“almost three years.”

“y/n-”

“and-and i understand if you don’t feel the same, but... god, i’m in love with you. desperately, hopelessly, deeply, madly... fucking in love with you. and i’ve tried to suppress those feelings, i really have. but every time you sing along to whatever song i play in my car, or drop something, or trip over your own feet... I can’t help it.”

“y/n-”

“and i know we’re supposed to just be best friends, but... it’s like a pit or a void in my heart that’s only filled when i’m around you.” you could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “and it’s embarrassing because the moment I realized it was freshman year halloween. when you dressed up as that wizard and refused to talk normally. and when i realized it, i went home and cried. because i knew you would never feel the same about me.”

you looked over at him to see he was staring at the bed in front of him. he was silent, which made you nervous.

“jesus. what a bombshell.” he reached up and rubbed his eyes. “i-i’m sorry, y/n. i just… i don’t feel the same.” you nodded and let a tear drip down your cheek as you looked back up at your book. “you have no idea...”

“don’t do that.”

“what your friendship means to me.”

“no. i don’t want to do that, isaac. i wanna be more than that.”

“i’m really sorry if you misinterpreted things, y/n. it’s probably my fault.”

“not your fault. i’m sorry i… misinterpreted our friendship.”

“i should get going,” he said softly.

“yeah,” you choked out.

“i’m sorry.”

and with that, he was on his feet, his shoes were on, and he was out of your house. the energy in your room was smothering, leaving you alone to soak your pillow in salty tears.

two weeks had passed since you’d seen isaac. you weren’t even sure he was coming to school, to be completely honest. you had three classes with him, and he was in none of them. not seeing him was weird, like something was missing.

it wasn’t until you stayed late after school one night to work on homework that you saw him again. you were walking past the locker rooms when a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into the boys’ one, making you gasp in surprise.

you tore your arm from their grip but let out a deep breath when you made eye contact with him.

“jesus, isaac, you don’t just grab a girl and yank her into an empty room.”

he didn’t answer, he just looked at the floor. you were both silent for a moment, and you crossed your arms.

“what do you want?” you asked finally.

“i’m sorry,” he whispered. “look, what you said... that was a wake-up call for me. after i left-”

“abruptly, without warning. leaving me all alone.”

“when i was driving home, i started thinking. you’ve always been there for me, through thick and thin. when i fuck up, you’re always there to comfort me. i always have a pair of arms to hold me when i’m sad and a bed to sleep in when i don’t wanna be alone, or when my dad was being a dickhead. always. and i’ve been too stupid to look in front of me and see that. and, now that i think about it, i remember that when we met... i had the biggest crush on you.”

“you don’t have to say that to make me feel better.”

“i’m not. i swear. i figured you didn’t feel the same, so i forced myself to move on. i thought about you every night for weeks after. i thought about how i wished i had even a sliver of a chance with you. and, through all of this, i guess i forgot all that. but now all those feelings are resurfacing. and they’re hitting me hard. you’ve been there for me from the start, and you’re everything to me.”

“how do i know you’re not just saying this out of guilt?”

“because if i was saying it out of guilt i wouldn’t do this.”

“do what-”

he stepped closer and cupped your face in his hands, pulling you closer and connecting your lips. you instantly kissed back, wrapping your fingers around his wrists.

two and a half years. you waited two and a half years for this, and you were finally getting it. you savored every single millisecond of it, kissing him like you’d never kissed anyone before.

when he pulled away, you looked up at him. he smiled at you before pecking you quickly on the lips.

“i’m sorry,” he said. “i should’ve done that sooner.”

“yeah.”

“i love you, y/n. so much”

with a smile, you repeated, “i love you, too, isaac.”

#fanfic #fluff #isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey imagines #isaac lahey fluff #isaac lahey one shot #isaac lahey x reader #isaac lahey x y/n #daniel sharman #daniel sharman imagine #daniel sharman imagines #daniel sharman fluff #tw #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #mtv

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yanderenightmare · 3 years

Note

Hi I have no idea if requests are open, but how would our yandere boys (of your choosing) react when their come home to their pets wearing their hero/villain outfits? I know many of them would be amused, but I feel since they're each a different type of yandere they'd have a various dark thoughts.

yandere ! BNHA thirsts

goodiebag WARNINGS: nsfw, dubcon/noncon, profanity, dumbification, condescension, degradation, FLUFF, obsession

BAKUGO KATSUKI - KACHAN

She looks like a little ninja in that mask. She wasn’t able to put any of the other things on because of the sheer size of them compared to her. She wouldn’t really ever call herself petite, given she’s a clumsy mess, but standing next to Bakugo, it’s safe to say she felt like a mouse next to a bear. And though she was standing in his great big boots, swimming in them, the mask was the only thing that fit. Resulting in her standing there, in her underwear, in his massive black heavy combat-boots and his menacing black mask.

Scratch the first note. She looked, briefly, like a ninja in that mask, but as she noticed him lurking in the threshold of the door, she made the mistake of trying to jump like the skittish bunny she is, her feet caught in the trap of his shoes and tripping before she could catch herself, all graceless and clumsy and not at all like any ninja. No worries though, seeing how Katsuki’s quick on his feet, she was never even close to hitting the floor before she was hugged tightly to his chest.

He’s amused, it’s the first thing she notices, that great big sun-swallowing grin stretched on his face, the gleaming glint in his eyes, so bright she’s forced to giggle in her unbalanced yet secured embrace. She looks like a little rookie sidekick, in desperate need to learn a thing or two from him, or an amateur cat-burglar who thought she could poach one or two things from him, caught red-handed, trapped. He can already feel his dick perking, twitching in his sweats, growing warm and heavy just at the sight of her stupid giddy smile. She’s only wearing his fucking mask, but holy fuck, why does she have to be so fucking cute all the goddamn time?

TAKAMI KEIGO - HAWKS

She doesn’t often think about how much bigger Keigo is than her. Sure, she knows it, he’s bigger, taller, stronger, faster, but they’re not facts he opts to make abundantly clear. Keigo is like a child more often than not, he’s ridiculous, pouty, petty, always pulling pranks, cracking jokes through sarcasm and a sly smile, where other times he’s just a horny spaz. He’s not really one to exert dominance, not really a personality that screams alpha. Yet, as she treads on his suede flight jacket, she realizes just how small she is in comparison to his lean frame.

They were fresh out of the shower, towel wrapped around her to dry, Keigo still in front of the mirror fixing his hair to look neatly disheveled, but as she stepped out, leaving Keigo to his vain antics in the bathroom, she caught eye of something that would be way more comfortable than her towel. The fur was stupid soft, and warm, and smelt so undeniably like Keigo, and felt really nice against her sensitive ripe raw skin after having been taken by her wild animal in the shower for hours.

She was so lost with her eyes closed, holding onto the feeling of the softness wrapped around her to even notice Keigo leaning in the threshold of the bathroom-door. His deep chuckle brought her back to reality fast enough though. Drowsy blissed eyes looking to his amused ones, smile stretched into a toothy smirk at the sight of her cuddling with his hero-jacket. She shouldn’t be surprised to find herself tackled to the bed. He had a towel wrapped around his torso, but it fell to the ground in the tackle, naked body pressed against her nude frame, warm flesh and the softness of the fur, his darling giggling at his absurdity as he peppers kisses down the valley between her breasts.

MIDORIYA IZUKU - DEKU

Seeing her in that bunny-mask alone is enough to spark an obsession, no mind to the boots and gloves. The hero-costume is supposed to act disarming to the public, given how bunnies are a sign of good-luck and seem cuddly and cute and not at all like they could have your skin and flesh ripped from your bones with the mere flick of a wrist. But his darling is just that, isn’t she? A harmless little ball of sweet precious softness. This brittle breakable dainty little thing, flimsy and frail and feeble and all his. Safe to say he fucked her stupid that night, had her seated on his lap, hopping up and down the length of his cock like a precious little bunny for hours.

He doesn’t care much for the rest of the outfit, but he does take it upon himself to buy a series of other bunny-inspired accessories. Cute ears in all shapes, both large and pointy, and short and strutting, as well as long floppy ones. She looks so precious, what with that adorable fluffy pompom tail behind her, so chaste and innocent looking despite the sheer lace and mesh of the lingerie, leaving all her tender bits on display for him. Especially cute with those fluffy handcuffs around her wrists, and that slightly anxious look on her face as he completes the outfit with a collar around her throat and a leash trailing to his hand.

His little pet, she looks like such a playboy picture, placed so perfectly on his bed, large pillows placed around her, other bunnies in the form of stuffed animals, such a pristine cotton-flavored pastel-hued paradise, all for him to destroy with those hands of his and those teeth and that dirty depraved mind.

CHISAKI KAI – OVERHAUL

He doesn’t usually appreciate being made fun of, but when his darling clasped on his plague-mask, opting to intimidate him with the most calculating stare she could manage, he couldn’t help but crack a smile. And when she drummed her white-gloved-fingers up his chest, climbing to sit in his lap, eyes still holding his gaze with a witch’s spell, her voice the most ominous rust she could muster, telling him how she could destroy him with one mere measly touch, mocking him so much so he didn’t need to see under the mask to know how wide she’s smirking, he’s livid with thrill, only barely holding himself together, hanging onto every single movement she made.

He hadn’t known he was such a narcissist, but he had to admit seeing his darling in his moss-green bomber-jacket, large enough to reach under her ass, hiding her body like a tease with indigo-fur splayed thickly around her shoulders and up around her ears, nestling her head that had his mask protruding like a bird-beak out towards him, that tantalizing look in her eyes, it was turning him on, madly so, he could barely sit down as her hands, clad in his surgical gloves, danced up to undo the zipper to the jacket in one agonizingly slow movement, only to reveal she wasn’t wearing anything but his white tie. He was about to lose it.

He pounces, like a vulture, mask thrown to some unknown corner of the room, her body pressed firmly into the mattress, tie used as a collar and leash as he presses his firm lips into her pillowy ones, kissing with desperation, with hunger, with need. Hands so harsh in their worship, grabbing onto her, pushing her knees apart, granting access to the tempel between her legs, where he can plant even more kisses.

AIZAWA SHOTA - ERASURHEAD

He’s seen her tangled up in his scarf more times than he’s seen her with clothes on, but as a capture-weapon it’s been unwillingly and meant to immobilize and secure her more than comfort her. Most times she’d whine when being handicapped by the tight bondage, looking like a kitten who’s managed to tangle herself up in a ball of yarn, but now she’s wrapping it around her naked body like a blanket, cuddling with the tresses, head sunken inside the nest laid thickly around her shoulders, hanging off and falling around her bare arms and breasts.

It reminds him of Halloween. A poor attempt at trying to look scary, wrapping herself in like a mummy, or trying to pass as some wraith, or as though having bandaged cuts and bruises, meant to look so scary but not at all able to hide how she’s simply a small adorable little soft cuddly kitten, incapable of achieving anything remotely scary-looking. He scoffs and grins as he looks down at her, needing to touch what ridiculous display she’s conjured and intertwined herself in.

She threw her head back with a strange smile on her face, trying to imitate him, stopping him in his pursuit of grabbing her as he had to slap his face with a groan, a smile forcing itself up on his own face at the feel of his heart warming, throbbing, in his chest, butterflies causing a ruckus in his stomach. How he wished he could digest those feelings, stomach acid melting the wings of those bothersome insects. He doesn’t have the time for such pleasantries, but his darling doesn’t seem to mind being a distraction whatsoever. She should know... there are consequences for being such a little tease.

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spoopy-fish-writes · 3 years

Text

—Rating Ikesen characters based on their shoes <3

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Tw: Swearing, I'm literally just bullying them, someone stop me

Notes: @mllorei I don't know why it took so long but I finally did it! || Just saying that these opinions are all based solely on how aesthetically pleasing and comfortable I think they are/ would be for me personally and this is written with no intention to offend anyone. My comments on their clothing are not in relation to the actual historical aspect of them

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Nobunaga

Wait, are those socks with sandals?

I've been staring at them for 10 minutes and still can't figure it out but they look like socks and sandals to me and that in itself is awful to me because that combo is simply unbearable to me. I cannot stand how they feel together

Like, the sock is just- eeeeh

I can vibe with the colours and the design though

Armoured and protecting the shin from me kicking him and suits the rest of the outfit, keeping it mostly monochrome and simple

The knots on the foot look actually well done and suit the rest of the design so it works

Also points for historical accuracy though, that I can applaud even if I personally find the design uncomfortable

Mitsuhide

The longer I look at them, the more I hate the very obvious contrast between the cold colours of his outfit and the black of his sandals

Otherwise, I have very few complaints?

The straps are thick so it more practical and less likely to let his feet get messed up and plus he's more of a long distance fighter so it kind of works???

They're also black which only matches with the half gloves that he wears which shouldn't bug me as much as it does because of the really stark contrast between the really cold colours of his clothes and the sandals

Then again, it's like, half a shoe at the top and a sandal at the front which really doesn't make any sense to me. At all

I don't really know what's going on there

Hideyoshi

Dude, don't you often fight on the front lines? These shoes are gonna get really scuffed and that's gonna be so sad

THEY'RE WHITE FOR FLIPS SAKE! He has clearly never heard of grass stains

Also hating the shade of green used

Other wide the design is really good

Feet are protected and the shoes look flexible and look like they can move easily

Also vibing with the silver accents and armour

Also, what's up with the grass (?) pattern on the armour shin pad thing?

It isn't bad and suits the rest of it but :////// idk

Masamune

I'm sorry but the fact that they're both not the same hurts me so much but if you get rid of the silver armour on the right leg, it actually really works and looks really good

The gold accents around the ankle are really pretty and I like how the shoes are black and white

The grey also goes really well with the rest of the clothing and the gold is still a really nice accent to the rest of his clothes

Honestly can't find much to hate about it

Then again, still trying to understand what the pointy thing at the back of the shoe is

I mean, I'm not the one wearing them but I'd probably stab my hand on it at least 7 times a month at the minimum trying to take them off but I suppose it fits with his vibe

He does after all have that pointy moon thing which I am unable to name at the moment so it does work

Ieyasu

Ngl, I spent more time staring at the poofiness of his trousers than the actual shoes because it's so cute to me

Anyways!

They're very simple and seem to be sturdy, not made of a material that looks too easily scratched up or ruined so that's a good thing

Shape and colour also work really well but kind of iffy about the brown tint that I may just be imagining because of the brown armour but it still works since his outfit is comprised mainly of oranges, browns and yellows

Also looks like they are fairly thick so they're definitely provide his feet some protection though the comfort is questionable

They look like of chunky and uncomfortable though that might just be me but you gotta be comfortable if you're gonna be moving a lot and riding a horse

The armour on his shins also looks like it would hinder his movements in his ankle a little so still questioning it's flexibility but otherwise liking it

Mitsunari

I love them

They're perfect

I know for a fact that I am biased but I don't care

The colours match, they're boots so the design isn't painful to look at, they aren't difficult or complicated

What more could I ask for?

I can't even rag on him for his boots being white like I could with Hideyoshi because he's the tactician

His fighting is done behind the front lines

Plus he fights intelligently so, if he were to be fighting anywhere near the front lines which is doubtful because he isn't the most efficient with a sword, he wouldn't be likely to get into a situation where he would happened to get off of his horse as you can see in Kenshin's route

Then again, he's Mitsunari, so I have to take into consideration the fact that he'll get them messed up outside of the battleground but, with Hideyoshi mothering him, I don't think he'll have too much of a problem

Shingen

Dude, are you really wearing these kinds of sandals into war? 😃

You're gonna get shot in the foot and there's gonna be absolutely nothing to even minorly protect it because the straps and shit are too thin

You're gonna be walking in a field of corpses and fighting on it

Everything is gonna be all over your foot because you fight upfront!

Blood, people, horse shit

Did you not think this through???

Like the design is kind of practical in the sense that they won't be coming off too easily but I've got experience with those kinds of sandals

They don't come off too easily at least the kinds that I've worn but the likely hood of them getting displaced is very high and that shit will be digging into your foot and let me tell you that that hurts like a bitch and you'll have to take the whole sandal off guys to get it back into place. No ankle support whatsoever

I don't think you wanna do that in the middle of a war

Otherwise, I very much like the sandals

Looks like something I would wear in Egypt when I feel pretty and decide to wear a half decent outfit

Kenshin

I love and hate them

On the one hand, sleek, practical, not sandals, not flashy, suits the rest of his clothes, definitely the kind of thing that I would wear because it's not complicated or overly difficult

On the other hand, looks very scratchable, kind of like leather, and looks like it's gonna get all marked up

Knowing Kenshin, he's gonna be on the front lines, messing up his sleek shoes and that honestly really bugs me because it's gonna get all messed up :/

Like, yes he's rich and can buy as many pairs of them as possible but they look like they're made of some kind of bendable plastic and it hurts me

Otherwise, really good taste but the fact that they're really likely to get scratched up hurts me :/

Yukimura

I can't be the only one who thought they were heels when they first saw them

I just immediately thought "STILETTOS!" and it still won't leave my mind

They look like boots my mum bought a while back and why are the toes pointed???

Dude, you're gonna be running around and shit, believe me, riding a horse and sitting down for that long with pointed shoes does not end well

YOU'RE FEET ARE GONNA HURT LIKE HELL

For that reason alone, I hope they hurt

However, the colours work really well

The red black and silver seem to work and the design isn't half bad

However, I can't get over just how uncomfortable they look

I'd probably cry of I had to wear boots like that for extensive amounts of time

Sasuke

Ah yes

Sasuke

The one man whos clothes and sense of style are a constant subject of my scrutiny

I'm sorry but I hate your outfit so much

Anyways! The shoes! The only half decent thing about the entire outfit

They look so shiny like Kenshin's so I also feel like they'd get easily scratched up

Same with the gold soles (?) and the green and gold thingies at the top

The thing at the top I guess I can understand but wouldn't gold soles hurt???

Like, the shoes look really uncomfortable

Might just be because of how it looks so shiny but they look like they'd be so stuffy and difficult to move in which is bugging me to an unnecessary degree

However, they're the only half decent thing about his whole outfit so I cut him some slack for this because at least the colours almost work

Wait a minute, isn't he also supposed too be a ninja?

They look kinda like they would squeak so wouldn't that give him away really quickly???

The practicality is slowly (very quickly) plummeting

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Do not repost, edit or claim. Only reblog 💜

#ikemen sengoku #ikesen #bullying ikesen characters #rating ikesen characters #ikesen masamune #ikesen nobunaga #ikesen mitsuhide #ikesen kenshin #ikesen hideyoshi #ikesen shingen #ikesen mitsunari #ikesen yukimura #ikesen ieyasu #ikesen kennyo #spoops rambles about ikemen

130 notes · View notes

embrassemoi · 3 years

Text

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars • 16

Pairings: Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors Author’s notes: Thanks for the support! xx (also kinda personal but I just got accpected into uni?! Crazy!)

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 16: Everything Goes According to Plan

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

January 30th, 1976

“Where’s my camera?”

“Be careful — Oi! Don’t step on me!”

“Ouch!”

“Shush!”

The squeaking of floorboards creaked throughout the small room as everyone kept on stumbling into each other, all fidgeting from excitement. That morning, they’d all woken up earlier than usual, decorating the room with streamers, leftover Christmas decor and a large banner that hung above the entrance of the doorway that read, Happy Birthday, Petals! (which was Y/N’s idea — she was very proud of the nickname). Even Mary snuck into their dorm, making everyone wear small pointy party hats as they huddled around Lily’s bed, circling her like vultures and raised their hands high. With a quiet count of three from Marlene, their hands lowered, hovering over Lily’s arms and legs, then shook.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” They bellowed.

Lily woke with a jolt; her eyes flew open as she let out a scream. Her back slammed against the bed frame while Toulouse swiped at them, specifically at Marlene and hissed.

Lily’s heart hammered against her chest and she felt the small prickles of needles subside all over her body. Her hand clutched her nightgown, attempting to even out her breathing. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”

“Happy birthday, Lils!” Mary repeated before climbing into her bed, hugging her.

She grunted at the impact as a smile replaced her features. Her eyes hopped from person to person before landing on Y/N who gave a sweet smile which had Lily blushing as she averted her eyes back to Mary.

When the group realized that Lily’s birthday fell on a weekend, it left them giddy and beyond excited for the endless opportunities that lay ahead of them. Not only did it leave the entire group to have a small break from their ruthless studying, but they could thoroughly celebrate the day and have enough time to spare for any last-minute plans for the surprise birthday party that night.

“Get your arse up and get ready to start the day!” Marlene declared, already trying to tug her crimson blanket away.

Lily yawned, rubbing her eyes, “Do we have to? I’m tired…”

“Come on! Life is short! It’s time we make memories,” she cried, “You never know when you’re going to die! Would you rather celebrate your birthday as a ghost or six feet under?! I, for one, will not visit your grave.”

Lily rolled her eyes, getting up with a stretch. Dorcas moved to turn on Marlene’s record player, settling a record by Nancy Sinatra as everyone continued with their usual morning routines. Lily got dressed in her favourite long sleeve lilac dress, pulling on tights to prevent herself from freezing. Mary wore her usual gold eyeshadow and wore a red jumpsuit while Marlene dressed coolly in all black. Although, Dorcas decided to stay in bed, still recovering from her nasty flu.

“You look very pretty today,” Y/N told Lily while detangling her hair from the loose braid she had it in. She took a brush and hair styler, primping her hair to Lily’s usual style and placed a headband in her hair.

“I — I, er — thanks!” She replied somewhat flustered.

“No… problem — there! Finished!” She handed Lily a handheld mirror, letting her go over her appearance. Pleased, she turned around to the group.

“So, first order of business, what did you want to do today?” Dorcas asked before going into a fit of coughs. Marlene rushed up to her side and popped off a cork from a nearby potion for her to drink.

Everyone had been slightly worried. It had been four days now and Dorcas still wasn’t recovering from the flu despite the ad of magic and potions. Thankfully today she seemed to perk up, even just a little, but they worried she was pushing herself.

“How about we just stay here, with you? We can all up a Healer and —”

“No,” Dorcas coughed again, she waved her hands in front of her, “I’ll be fine. Don't worry about me. What do you want to do?”

Lily remained quiet for a moment and Y/N assumed she was going to suggest staying in their dorm with Dorcas again, but her eyes gleamed with unusual mischief. Her eyes hopped from person to person before landing on Y/N. “I want to do a prank and I think you’ll love it.”

Everyone’s brows rose. Lily, the goodie-two-shoes prefect, Evans and pranks?! Those two do not belong in the same sentences.

“Okay…” said Mary, nodding her head despite being confused, “We’re listening.”

Lily sat down on her bed, crossing one leg over the other as she motioned everyone to sit. “Do you think it’s possible if we can dye someone’s hair? Obviously, safely,” she used her prefect voice, “But do you think we can?”

A beat went by — that was strangely out of character. What happened to the Lily they knew?

“Yeah,” Marlene begins, “What colour are you thinking?”

“Orange — bright orange with a bit of green.”

Then, Lily turned over to look at her again, a ghost of a smile appearing that told Y/N that whatever she was planning was going to be worth it — especially if Lily out of all people, was going to pull it off.

“Someone's going to be sorry for calling me Carrots.”

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

At breakfast, they arrived later than usual after they all planned out their prank. Marlene, who had been a part of too many pranks with Sirius and James, helped the most, while Y/N and Lily created a hair-changing potion using one of Dorcas’ old cauldrons — but unlike James, they stuck to a potions textbook with a reversal potion. Since it was Lily’s idea, she would be the one to slip the potion into Sirius’ drink. So, she tucked the vital into the sleeve of her dress, hidden from prying eyes.

They all huddled around her as they entered the Great Hall; their hands were pushed forward protectively, guarding Lily as if she were a celebrity being swarmed by adoring fans and they were her bodyguards. They paved her way from students while shouting:

“She’s declining photos at the moment!”

“Birthday girl coming through!”

“She’s a very busy lady! Out of the way!”

Lily kept on protesting for them to stop, hiding her face in her hands. As they reached their table, they sat beside the marauders while Lily made sure to take a seat next to Sirius. But, that wasn’t the end of Lily’s humiliation. Mary stood up, clapping to gain everyone’s attention. Once she realized what was about to happen she quickly got up, but Y/N and Sirius clapped a hand on Lily’s shoulder, shoving her back down on the bench.

They opened their mouths, singing,

“Haaaaapppppy birthday to you!” The six of them hollered before the rest of the hall caught on and started singing. “Haaaaapppppy birthday to you! Haaaaapppppy birthday dear Lily —” “CARROTS!” Shouted Sirius at the top of his lungs.

Lily kept shaking her head, blushing incredibly hard — even the tips of her ears started to turn pink. She covered her ears, attempting to muffle out the singing.

Y/N snapped a few photos of her, shoving them into her pockets.

“Haaaaapppppy birthhhhdaaaay tooooo youuuuuuuu!”

The Gryffindors and any Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs that knew Lily cheered loudly. A few teachers, like Slughorn or McGonagall, made their way over to her, congratulating her along with a few other of her friends from different houses. Well wishes could be heard, along with a few people even handing her cards too.

Even an owl came swooping by when she had her back turned, dropping off a small package addressed from her parents and her sister, Petunia.

Swarmed and distracted, this left the group to huddle together as they leant over the table, forming a small circle of sorts. James was excluded as he sat back and drank a cup of tea flicking through the Daily Prophet.

“Operation: Lily’s birthday party,” said Marlene, “Let’s go over what our positions are for tonight.”

Mary was assigned with Dorcas to decorate the common room while Remus distracted Lily tonight during their rounds. Marlene and Sirius were in charge of drinks and snacks, leaving Peter and Y/N to bake a cake and bring any additional food.

They all quickly pulled apart once the crowd around Lily subsided. She settled back down, nodding and faking a cough. This signalled to the girls as Marlene quickly roped Sirius into a conversation about a New-Maj band he liked; Y/N talked to James about the upcoming Ravenclaw and Slytherin Quidditch match which left Mary to distract both Peter and Remus.

When none of the marauders were looking, Lily popped the corkscrew from the vital and grabbed a bowl of muffins on Sirius’ left. While she lent over, the potion poured directly into Sirius’ cup and she sat back down, smirking to herself. Y/N gave a discreet small high-five to her as they waited.

After a few minutes, parched from his talk with Marlene, Sirius picked up his goblet and tipped back the drink. He took a large gulp, wincing at the taste as he pulled it away from his face, but returned to his conversation like normal.

For several minutes, nothing happened. The girls kept quickly glancing upwards to check out his hair, but nothing: still bleached blond. They sighed, dejected that their plan hadn’t worked and Y/N nudged Lily underneath the table and gave a small smile, trying to cheer her up.

Another ten minutes went by and only then did the root of Sirius’ hair begin to tint into a bright orange colour rather than his dyed hair. This caught the girl's attention, however, the rest of the marauders who were still engaged in their conversations, did not notice as their heads were turned away from him.

His hair rapidly turned into orange as the tips were tinted green. Sirius didn’t seem to notice until James laughed, quickly turning to him to tell him a joke until his eyes widened at his hair.

“Ugh — Padfoot?!”

Sirius looked at him bewildered at his worried tone and expression before catching his reflection in James’ glasses. By now, Peter and Remus looked at him, their eyes widened, leaving the girls to force down their laughter, showing false concern.

“What the fuck?!” Sirius exclaimed, running a hand through it. She’d never seen Sirius this panicked before. More than anything, he looked shocked and even a bit… happy? No — definitely not happy. He continued to chuckle nervously before fretting over his appearance. For once, his laughter did not bother her.

Students began to take notice, pointing over at the Gryffindor table while some even began gossiping with others about the prank. As soon as the bell rang, everyone got up from their seats while the marauders surrounded Sirius, trying to help him out. The girls, on the other hand, got up and ran out of the Great Hall, practically howling.

“Oh my god! I can’t believe I just did that! I did that! We did that!” Lily exclaimed in disbelief before taking a seat down at their usual hangout near the library. “Did you see his reaction?! Jeez! I see why they pull so many pranks now!”

Y/N was about to burst into tears. That was by far the funniest shit she’d ever seen before. Marlene was in a similar boat as she clutched her side. Her stomach hurt from how hard she laughed.

“Lily! You little minx!” Mary cried as flopped beside Lily, her head dropping into her lap.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Their day was jammed packed. They went skating on the black lake, hit up the library, walked around school grounds which ended up in a huge snowball fight. After a bit, they decided to take a moment to separate themselves to give each other a bit of space while Lily went to find Snape.

This left the rest of the group two hours tops to themselves.

Y/N walked over to Honeydukes, buying a bunch of Jelly Slugs and a couple of other things before dashing back to the castle; she needed to wrap all of her presents and she promised to help Dorcas wrap hers too.

Before she entered Hogwarts again, Y/N took a moment to herself and enjoyed the small moment of peace around her. The soft crunching of snow, the cold breeze and the stillness — how quiet it was — there was hardly a moment since the break that Y/N had felt the comfortable peace Hogwarts had to offer.

Stepping inside the corridors, the atmosphere suddenly changed with the torches ablaze and a constant bubbling ambience that never seemed to settle.

In the distance, to her right, she could hear distant shouting and a rush of footsteps nearing. Out of nowhere, James seemed to come barreling towards her.

“Whiskers!” He yelled, sending her a fast wink as he continued to run down the corridor, making a sharp turn. Then, Marlee popped out, dashing after James.

“Marls?! What’s happening?”

“Running from Filch — get him off my trail!”

“What did you do?!”

“Told me to cover up, so I hexed him — Potter called him a rent boy!”

“Are you going to miss the party?” She yelled as Marlene’s body kept getting smaller and smaller as she ran. Y/N began to panic, without Marlene, surely things would take a lot longer than planned.

“Like hell I am! I won’t be late!”

Marlene disappeared, shortly being replaced by Filch who ran in a strange mixture of running and hopping.

“Where did they go?” He breathed, bending down and clutching his knees. “I heard them over here, where are they?”

And so Y/N decided to have some fun. “Who?”

“You know!”

“Um — you mean the one with blond hair?” “And the boy with black hair!”

“Oh! Yes, I know who… What’re their names again? Severus Snape and —” she paused, trying to think of another blond person, “Ugh — Sirius Black?”

Well, he used to be blond.

“No! The Potter boy and McKinnon! Where are they?!”

“Hmm… Oh! Oh! I think they went,” she pointed outside to the thick, cold snowy path, “That way!”

Filch didn’t even question her and ran off. Laughing, Y/N ran away from Filch; the last thing she wanted to do was face his wrath once he knew she lied.

Opening the door to her dorm, Dorcas was asleep. She walked up to grab a nearby folded blanket and placed it over her body to keep her warm before starting working.

She cleared off a table, unfolding her wrapping paper and wrapped the sides before creasing them, taping everything down with a pretty bow.

❉───────•~❉•᯽•❉~•───────❉

Nobody had seen Marlene or James for the past couple of hours — they’d even skipped dinner which caused everyone to go into a state of panic. Without Marlene, Sirius would be in a lot of trouble completing his task alone.

The common room was filled with fighting in hushed whispers as Lily and Remus were set to leave for their rounds in a couple of minutes.

“I’m going to kill her,” Mary fumed, “The one day they’re not supposed to go mucking around, they pull this!”

“How about we find them —” “And lose the little time we have now?”

Sirius, in particular, was on edge, aggravated, as he turned towards Y/N, “Why didn’t you think of saying anything sooner?”

“Because I didn’t think Marlene and James would be stupid enough to get caught! Not today!”

He closed his mouth, his lips pressed into a tight line. Even he hadn’t expected them to be that stupid either — not today.

“Everyone, shut up. All of you! Why don’t we take a moment to breathe?” Remus said calmly, effectively shutting the entire group up. In moments like these, Y/N understood why he was a prefect. He breathed in and looked to Sirius, “You can do this by yourself, can you?”

“Course not, Moony. Have a little faith in me!” Sirius gave a tenacious laugh, although forced.

Remus’ eyes then flicker to Y/N and Peter, “This shouldn’t affect you, will it?”

They shook their heads.

“Okay then, we’ll continue as planned. I’ll buy you as much time as —” He quickly cut himself off as everyone’s ears perked up. They all heard it, Lily’s footsteps. With that, Y/N, Sirius and Peter weaved their way out of the common room, walking quickly to avoid Lily and Remus from catching up to them. Unfortunately, Sirius took the invisibility cloak before she or Peter had the time to ask for it.

They sneakily made their way down a flight of moving stairs, passing several empty corridors and made their way down to the kitchens.

Once they began working on Lily’s cake, Y/N instantly knew why Peter was assigned to the kitchens.

He instructed her most of the time, telling her which ingredients or utensils to find. Currently, she grabbed a metal ladle and watched as Peter churn the ingredients, watching as they blend into a seamless, smooth mixture. She sat back most of the time, baking and cooking was never something she was great at.

Y/N rifled through the cabinets, searching for a cake tin. “Ah-hah! Found some!”

They were heart-shaped, rather than the usual circular ones. She placed them onto the counter before turning her attention to grease the pans and focus on making a couple of sandwiches.

“So,” she started, trying to make small talk, “Where’d you learn to bake so well?”

Peter went pink as he wordlessly flicked his wand; the cake tin and floated it into one of the pre-heated ovens and turned to make the frosting. “Erm — it was James’ mum, Euphemia, who taught me. She’s a great baker — honestly she’s good at everything.

“James and I grew up close to each other; we’re childhood friends. He never did fancy baking — liked cooking more and I felt bad he never wanted to help out Euphemia. So one day I offered to help and now whenever I’m at their house, I help around — like a tradition — and I do it in my spare time now. Helps clear my head.”

Just then, two house-elves popped in, each holding a cup of tea for each student. Y/N gave her thanks while Peter turned to talk to them, making them laugh and asking questions that seemingly were a follow-up from a previous conversation. A light dust of flour scattered the side of his cheek while he smiled with them. The more he spoke with the elves, the more Y/N grew fascinated.

Out of all the marauders, even beating out Sirius and James who were amongst the most popular students at Hogwarts, Peter was the most liked out of all of them, especially amongst her friend group.

He wasn’t James who at times was a bit too much and talked an awful lot. He wasn’t Sirius who was dramatic, nor was he Remus who was quiet and intimidating. Peter was just Peter — who was a bit skittish, insanely good at Wizard’s chess, bold enough to sneak into the Slytherin's common room all by himself and loved to bake, clearly was in the kitchens often enough to have full-blown conversations with the elves when most people would so much as spit on before walking away.

It spoke volumes of his character, especially since he was from a Pureblood family; bound to grow up entitled and look down to his inferiors.

She noticed Peter had quite a lot of friends, mostly women, always seeming willing to help someone in dire need whether it be listening, giving advice or comforting another person. It only made her recollect the time Peter had engaged in small conversations with her, seeking to make her feel more included. Like that one time he’d mentioned the Holy Harpies. Small, ostensibly insignificant, but contemplating it now; he'd been trying to make her comfortable — settled — welcoming her with open arms into his group; into the marauders and the girls.

Within moments, there was a newfound appreciation towards the boy.

The sandwiches they made, along with pork pies stolen, were stuffed into a bag, ready to be transported. Y/N boredly spun her wand between the length of her finger while Peter whirled around in his seat until the ring of the timer went off. The elves were already gone, zipped away into thin air as they grew tired with sleep.

Placing a cooling spell onto the cake to avoid the icing from melting off, Peter began layering on a thin layer of icing.

“What’s Lily’s favourite colour? Is it still purple?” He asked. Y/N gave a curt nod.

“Never been a fan of purple. One time I walked into my Grandmum’s room, she only wore purple knickers for my Grandad. Makes me shiver all the time — honestly, the woman traumatized me. S’pose it might be my Boggart.”

Peter also had a sense of humour.

While diligently working, she marvelled at his creation. A two-layer heart-shaped cake, decorated all in light purple icing covered the surface before Peter piped small designs and swirls onto it.

“Wow. I feel like I can barely hold my wand at times yet you —”

“My, my — what do we have here? Students out of bed?” A voice came from behind them. “Tut, tut, tut.”

The two craned their heads backwards where Peeves smiled and let out a squeal of delight.

“Peeves,” Peter began politely. He slowly set down his piping bag and put his hands up in a submissive, yet defensive manner, as if he’d encountered a feral animal. “Please — please, we’re doing something for a dear friend. Don’t get us thrown out.”

“What would happen if I told Filch about you,” the ghost responded in a saintly voice, but his eyes glimmered wickedly. He brought a finger to the side of his face, tapping his index finger to his cheek, thinking.

“What to do, what to do…”

“Psst, Pete, what’s happening?”

Nobody answered her. With Sirius gone with the cloak, it left her and Peter completely out in the open wishlist a ghost threatening them — not to mention the lie she told Filch earlier, there was no way she nor Peter were going to get out of this unscathed.

“Please,” he pleaded.

She looked at him, wide-eyed and started panicking. She repeated louder, “What’s happening? What do we do?”

Peeves then grinned largely and started doing large loops into the air. His cackling rang through the empty corridors, becoming progressively louder.

“Shit. Run.”

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE HALLWAY! I REPEAT, THERE ARE STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE HALLWAY BY THE KITCHENS!”

Peter grabbed the cake while Y/N swiped the bag filled with the rest of the food, piping bags and a small jar of edible decor. They ducked under Peeves, dashing out of the kitchens leaving a huge mess for the unfortunate elves to clean up the next morning.

Peeves floated behind them slowly as he watched them run. Peter ran slower, trying to make sure he didn’t face plant into the cake while Y/N urged him to run faster.

“He usually helps us,” Peter grits out, “But he’s a two-faced git! Never trust him unless you’re doing a prank! Never!”

Just then, Peter lost his footing and tripped over his feet, letting out a half-shriek, mixing in with Peeves’ evil laughter. They sucked in a sharp breath, watching as the cake flew through the air but Y/N, quick on her feet, grabbed her wand, casting a quick non-verbal charm and watched as the cake and plate froze mid-air before the plate clanked down first, the cake following and settling ontop. She ran up to it, cradling and wrapping a protective arm around it to prevent the cake from dropping again. She called out for Peter to get up before he took the cake again, this time with a shout from Y/N to not drop it, before leading her into a secret passway down the corridor.

Peeves could be heard laughing maniacally down the hall before they both could hear Filch’s footsteps running towards his shouts.

Peter maneuvered through the passage while Filch’s voice became more and more distant as they continued to hurriedly walk. Lily and Remus’ shift was going to end soon and it would be a lost cause if they didn’t make it up to the common room.

They both turned sharply, about to exit before Y/N crashed into a shadowy figure, tripping but being caught swiftly by the figure. They cradled her head to keep her from falling, but the sudden scare caused both students to open their mouths to scream, loudly.

“It’s me! It’s me!” Sirius’ familiar voice runs out, waving a hand to shush Peter while the other was still on her back. Y/N felt herself relax and erratic heartbeat to calm. She’d never been so happy to see Sirius before. Until she realized that they were still touching and they both ripped away.

Her heart spiked, and she felt oddly light headed. Soon enough, her eyes then immediately went to his hair and held back from chuckling — perhaps right now was not the time.

“I came once I heard people shouting and I figured it was you two. You okay?” His eyes darted to her at the last part.

Perhaps her eyes tricked her, that she was too tired or bumping into Sirius too hard, but it felt like he’d been making sure if she was alright. Since when did Sirius care? Although, Peter didn’t seem to notice or he’d ignored the interaction entirely.

“F-fine,” he wheezed out, “Peeves… Peeves caught us while we were decorating the cake. We’re not done yet.”

“What time is it?” She asked.

Sirius placed his wand in his mouth while pulling out a silver pocket watch from his trousers. “Ten to ten.”

“We have time then.”

Peter placed the cake down gently on a nearby ledge in the passage, causing Sirius to cast Lumos. Sirius kept a watch out, his head moving from side to side every so often as he listened for anyone or anything walking past them.

Pulling out the icing bags and sprinkles, Peter began to finish his work. He continued to create flowers as Y/N wrote on the cake (although with help from her wand), ‘Happy 16th Birthday, Lily!’ and then placed a couple of candles around.

As Peter continued to add his small touches, Y/N’s eyes drifted around, not landing on anything in particular but zoned in on the shining of Sirius’ rings. Her eyes slowly drifted upwards, studying him. The remainder of the full moon that recently passed spilled a muted milky light onto the stone floor and touched Sirius’ face. He wasn’t wearing his normal school robes but dressed in Muggle clothing. Black jeans, a nice sweater, notable messy hair and his body language was relaxed. This Sirius was tolerable, likeable even. She liked this Sirius — but perhaps it was because he finally wasn’t talking. This Sirius gave her an insight into what he was like aside from his annoying, bitchy self. Loose, wild, messy in an elegant way, confident — in his prime — looking for a thrill, sneaking around; mischief.

Suddenly, Sirius’ wand went out as he ducked down, huddling beside her and Peter.

“What —”

They met each other’s eyes, locking, as he brought a finger up to his lips which made her flicker down to look at them, quickly.

Their eye contact was brief, so brief, nonetheless, it contained a flurry of emotions too complicated for Y/N to process.

But being up close for those brief seconds, she was able to examine him — truly, for the first time. Her eyes traced over the singular scar on his face, hidden by his hair that made her wonder where he’d gotten it from. Soon the questions enclosed her mind like an overflowing river.

His small, unexpected gesture had been one of many which had been nicer and oddly thoughtful recently.

Sirius’ brain was written in cryptic code — so advanced and intertwined — too complicated for her to understand. She wanted to understand his actions.

Even if she didn’t like to admit it, Sirius had a depth that greatly attracted her. She had so many unanswered questions.

And since her brain ran a mile a minute, her emotions weren’t filled with that annoyance of ranger — no, for once she didn’t feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Maybe it was because they both had one goal in mind: Lily’s party and that working against each other during something as high stakes like this would fail a good friend of theirs. Or maybe it was that instead of her or him starting something — or maybe — maybe it was because the boy was so close to her, closer than they ever had been before. Or maybe it was the adrenaline that set every fibre of her being on fire — making her feel like honey-dipped in tea — or the odd thunderous throbbing of her heat spiking suddenly; Y/N grew warm all over.

It didn’t help that Sirius didn’t look angry either, but rather a sudden cognizance filled his gaze, looking both shocked and calm.

But quickly, she just chalked up her flurry of emotions to adrenaline or wanting to hex him — either worked.

For Sirius, he felt utter disdain as his gaze fixated on her. He was tempted to flicker down to her lips but her eyes, bright and filled with glittery stars, were enchanting. It scorned him — made his heart beat in an iambic pentameter, creating its own sonnet that would make even the most accomplished poets jealous.

He wanted to refuse her presence. Wanted to focus on anything but her.

But Sirius was a weak man. He failed. He always did.

Their eyes ripped away and they heard the familiar sound of footsteps and voices neared them as they spotted the familiar red hair and tall figure.

Their voices were slightly muffled.

“— times have changed! You aren’t a second year anymore.” Lily chimed while they walked.

Remus shook his head, instead of flicking his wand as a dozen torches lit up in mere seconds. “Whatever you say, Red.”

She swatted at his shoulder while Remus ruffled her hair, his smiling becoming genuine.

“Seriously, I support it.

“Merlin, Evans — it’s not going to happen. Look at me!”

“Not with that attitude and you look more than fine!”

Peter shifted his eight onto his other foot which made an audible scuffle. However, it was so quiet that neither she nor Sirius caught on but Remus, whose head swirled in their direction, did. He took a deep inhale, a look in his eyes, confusion melting into realization — there and gone — as if he knew they were there despite being hidden by the shadows of the night. He turned his head once more and started walking faster while Lily skipped down, trying to catch up to him.

Remus Lupin was an odd one alright.

Nobody moved until they were positive they were gone.

The entire night had been a shitshow.

“Okay,” Sirius exhaled, he felt his entire body tense up, “Let’s get out of here.”

“Do you think the cake is okay?” Y/N asked Peter as Sirius tossed the invisibility cloak over their bodies, hiding them from onlookers.

“Bloody well hope so,” he grunted, “We didn’t get caught almost three times, freeze our arse, almost get a month's detention, and probably destroyed the kitchen for it not to be great.”

Without another word, they made their way back to the common room where everyone made a fuss about how late they were. Quickly, Peter placed any last-minute designs, Mary handed everyone small party horns, Dorcas put up last-minute balloons while Y/N and Sirius helped each other layout all the snacks and drinks — this time, civilly.

“God… How’d you even get this much? Me and Peter were in the kitchens and we couldn’t even get half of what you got.”

At this, Sirius smirked before collapsing into the plush velvet couch behind him, an exhausted sigh as he sank further in. But as soon as the smirk was there, it was gone as everyone heard the clicking of the portrait open.

“Hide — HIDE!”

All the lights were blown out as they all hid behind the couches — they heard quiet footsteps — someone shuffling towards the middle — footsteps getting louder — louder — and —

Sirius lit the entire room as they all sprung up and Y/N quickly held her camera to her face and snapped a photo as everyone shouted,

“SUPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHD —” “Godric fucking Gryffindor!”

“... I’m going to KILL YOU MCKINNON! POTTER!”

Everyone groaned in disappointment at James and Marlene’s arrival before they heard the faint sounds of footsteps outside of the portrait again. Mary yanked Marlene down, shoving her behind the couch along with forcing a party hat on her head and confetti in her hands. Sirius grabbed James by his red sweater and rushed him up the stairs before getting back into place.

“Told you,” Marlene whispered into her ear, “Wasn’t going to be late.”

The real Lily could be heard as she spoke excitedly with Remus. The portrait swung open — everyone waited before she stepped inside — they put most of their weight onto their toes, waiting to jump — Sirius’ wand was about to light up the room — Y/N held her camera — Dorcas and Marlene were going to throw up the confetti —

“Why is it so dark —”

“SUPRISE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LILY!”

Light rushed back into the room and Lily’s face lit up brighter than the sun. Mountains of sweets were piled into bowls while a small table was lined with drinks. Sirius outdid himself, seemingly raiding Honeydukes; there was taffy, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans, Chocolate Frogs, sherbet lemon, caldron cakes — plus the food Y/N and Peter had hauled from the kitchen; sandwiches, fruit, crisp (she made the mistake of saying chips in front of James and Marlene only to then be hassled by them for it) and pork pies.

ABBA played in the background, much to Remus’ demise as her purple cake sat in the middle on a table, all the candles lit. They all ushered Lily to blow out the candles while they all held wrapped gifts, cards and small gift bags.

“You didn’t need to do this!” Lily said, although there was a thankful look in her eyes, “This is too much! Thank you!”

“Anything for you, Evans!”

“You’re lucky we didn’t bring fireworks!” Marlene and Sirius grinned.

“You would have all gotten detention —” “Stop being a goody goody, not today, Lils!” Sirius slung his arm around the redhead.

Gifts went around; Lily had gotten so many cards from other teachers and students, handmade jewellery from Dorcas, Remus knit her a sweater with hearts, Mary and Marlene gave a joint gift, Peter bought her a small yet overly fancy tea set Lily had mentioned offhandedly before, Sirius gave her a first edition books she loved while Y/N gave her the gifts she bought from that old book store. Alice had even dropped by and given her a small package before heading back up for the night.

They all smiled widely at her and were thrilled to see her so happy. Y/N lifted her camera and took an abundance of photos throughout the entire night, before shoving them into the back pocket of her pants.

By the time everyone reluctantly returned to their dormitories, it was three o’clock in the morning and everyone was beyond tired, deciding it was time for bed.

“Night,” Dorcas called out. Marlene yawned loudly before falling into her bed, muttering out another round of happy birthdays to Lily. They were out the fastest — soft snores filling the room.

White specks seemed to blur through her vision as Y/N rubbed her tired eyes. She was about to call over to Lily, say goodnight, roll over and sleep before the creaking of her bed altered her to Lily padding her way to the bed. Y/N looked up at her, confused before scouting over for Lily to slip in, under her blankets.

“Are you okay, Petals?”

“Beyond perfect,” she replied with a wistful voice, “I’m so thankful. Thank you.”

Y/N chuckled, although she was a tad perplexed, “Y’know, it wasn’t just me who helped.”

“I know, but still. This birthday feels different from all the other ones I’ve had and I can’t help but think it’s also because of you.”

Lily Evans never ceased to amaze her. “Well, I hope you mean that in a good way,” she teased.

“Obviously!”

Silence fell around them before Toulouse hopped onto Y/N’s bed and settled himself between the two friends.

Y/N’s eyes wondered to the banner: petals... “What’s your favourite flower? Surely it’s not lilies, are they?”

Lily gave a small huff of amusement and shook her head, “No. Peonies or irises. What about yours?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll just say lilies for now.” She said absentmindedly before her eyes shot open. “Shit! I forgot —” Y/N reached over Lily and opened her drawer with the pouch of Jelly slugs before placing them into Lily’s hands. “Forgot to give you these.”

There was a soft look in Lily’s eyes and something Y/N couldn’t quite place. Her friend was acting quite strange.

“It feels like I’ve known you forever,” Lily says softly, her face flushed a rosy colour.

She stayed silent for a while, at a complete loss for words. Even a slight look of confusion crossed Lily’s face.

“Yeah, you too.”

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