#the way he folded after being told twice...hmmm | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noteguk · 3 years

Note

bro bad influence! jk and reader are 100% the type of couple to argue mid-sex i love this culture

They are!!!!

Taglist: @ft-multi @cryinginmypromdress @kooafraid @kissestothesky @dianaaviny @ggukkieland

[ ! ] this drabble is for “bad influence” — it can, however, be read as a standalone.

— words; 1.8k

— contents and warnings; hmmm smut, semi-public sex, oral (m rec and mention of f rec), unprotected sex, dirty talk, mention of cum play, playfully “arguing” mid-sex, the endless adventures of bad boy!jk x good girl! reader

“I can’t believe you, Jungkook,” your voice came out as an irritated murmur against the warm skin of his neck, barely interrupted by a soft whimper. “We’re gonna be late for class.”

His hand grew tighter around your thigh, pushing your leg higher up. Jungkook was buried deep between your folds, filling you up in every way that you loved, and yet you were a bit too paranoid to fully dive into those sensations. “Hmmm don’t care,” he groaned, the slaps of his skin against yours filling that small cabinet in a rhythmic symphony. Twice already, a broom had fallen on top of you, knocking you right on the forehead, and so you refused to let it go. That entire scene was ridiculous. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he moaned.

You rolled your eyes, amazed at how he managed to ignore everything else but the feeling of your walls clenching around him. The fact that you two were having a quickie in the janitor’s closet, exactly fifteen minutes before your most important class, was bad enough as it was. Your escapade was far from heavenly, with the stiff air impregnated by the nauseating aroma of a hundred different chemical products, the annoyingly flickering lightbulb over you, and, as stated, the paraphernalia that was knocked over every time Jungkook’s thrusts got a little too rough.

“God, why are you like this?” you complained.

He hummed, his fingers digging into your flesh. You could tell that Jungkook was starting to lose himself in you, for the roll of his hips started to get slower, less coordinated, as they always did when he was trying to prolong his pleasure. “Like what?” He breathed out.

You leaned your head back against the wall, looking at those devilish eyes of his. Jungkook’s hair was a mess, exploding around his head like a failed scientific experiment, and you knew that one look was all it took to know that it was sex hair. “Why do you always have to pick the worst time to do this stuff?” you clarified.

He scoffed. “Excuse me, princess, I think it was you who locked us in here,” he said. He wasn’t wrong, but, to be fair, you weren’t expecting that your make-out session would escalate to that. Then again, you were often naive when it came to his antics. “Now stay quiet or people are going to hear you.”

“Fuck off,” you whispered — whispered, because he was right. You had been controlling your moans and whimpers fairly well, but your normal speaking voice wasn’t a good idea either. There was no way to lock the room from the inside, and anyone could open that door at any given second.

Jungkook smirked like he knew what you were thinking about — that fucked-out, greek god smirk that had your knees weak for a second. His face was bathed by the golden light from the bulb, dripping in shadows and lustful gazes. “Wrong answer,” he teased. “You were supposed to say ‘Oh, Jungkook, I can’t keep quiet when you’re fucking me so well’.”

As if to prove his claim, Jungkook placed his face on the crook of your neck and pressed himself even deeper inside you. The feeling of his cock stretching you open was intoxicating, and the timid moan you let out was enough to make him throb inside you, gasping against the sweet scent of your hair.

Still, you wouldn’t bulge. “Gooood, shut up, please,” you whined, interlacing your fingers in his hair. There was a thin layer of sweat on his nape, the expected result from fucking in a hot, closed-off enviroment. “Are you close?”

“Yeah, almost there,” he moaned, picking his pace back up. You had to bite your lip to suppress a particularly loud moan after one of his hands slithered up your abdomen and grabbed your clothed breast, playing with it as he continued to seek his own high. His other hand still had its iron grip on your thigh, keeping your leg up as he continued to pound himself in and out of your wet heat. “Fuck, I love these skirts you wear. Easy access.”

“You’re such a caveman,” you said. Jungkook was breathing heavy against your ear, fighting for air as he mumbled sweet nothings just for you. You were almost overtaken by him — the pounding of his cock inside your pussy, his delicious moans and curses, the praises that he threw your way for being so good for him. Almost. “Don’t cum inside.”

Jungkook visibly tensed up at your request. You could tell that some part of his primitive brain was thinking of repeating one of his past endeavours — one that he came inside you, and made you walk around campus with his cum in you for the rest of the day. It was really hard to keep an upper hand when Jungkook was always knowingly smirking at you from across the room, loving the way that only the two of you knew of that little nasty secret.

(Miraculously, it was one of the few times that he didn’t feel slightly jealous when he saw you talking to other guys, but you didn’t have to know that).

Still, you weren't wearing pants that day, so the whole ordeal wouldn’t be so easy to hide.

A small whimper left his throat as he leaned forward, placing a wet kiss against your lips. You were looking at him with those big, doll-like eyes of yours, and he couldn’t refuse your request even if he wanted to fill you up so bad. “Awn, you’re so mean,” he whined, forehead touching yours. Every shove of his cock inside you had you bouncing up and down against the wall, that stupid broom threatening to tilt once again. “Can I cum in your mouth, baby?”

You hummed, trying to torture him with a fake thinking session. “Don’t know…” You hesitated. Jungkook cursed against your shoulder, his cock throbbing inside you once again. “Do you have gum?”

“Jesus, woman,” he complained, almost choking on his own pleasure. “Yeah, I have gum. Can I do it?”

You smiled. “Suit yourself.” You had to use all the force inside you to place your hands on his shoulders and push him away. Jungkook almost sobbed when he pulled himself out of your heat, his cock glistening with your wetness, swollen and reddened. “And cum quickly or I’ll kill you.”

You got to your knees before Jungkook had the chance to respond, your hand wrapping around his base and pumping him tentatively. He bucked his hips towards you, hissing at the sensitivity. “Listen, I’m really fucking close,” he told you, “and I don’t think you’d fancy a facial right now, so stop with that teasing.”

You chuckled at his comment, fumbling closer to him. “You know me too well.”

With that, you wrapped your lips around his tip, sinking his member inside your mouth until it almost reached your throat. Jungkook cried out in delight, louder than he had the entire time, and you were sure any passing strangers had heard him.

Yet your paranoia was forgotten when he started talking.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he moaned, placing his hand on the back of your head and tugging at your hair. Jungkook guided your movements with little force, watching as you had your fun around his cock — sucking and slurping him like it was the best thing in the world, the tears that accumulated at the corners of your eyes looking like a divine gift to him. “God, I love when you suck my cock, fuck—“

You moaned around him, the vibrations feeling like heaven to the boy. With a few more pumps of your mouth around him, Jungkook was coming undone with a loud hiss and a desperate buckle of his hips, calling out your name as he released his cum inside you. “Swallow everything,” his voice was hoarse as he told you that, meeting your watery eyes as you fought to drink every drop of his cum that you could. Jungkook smirked at your efforts, fingers caressing your scalp as you finished cleaning him up. “Good girl.”

You sighed happily at his praise, taking his hand as he helped you back on your feet. You could only hope that your knees wouldn’t be red by the time that you arrived at your classroom.

“Love watching you with my cock in your mouth, baby.” Jungkook leaned closer to you, wrapping his arms on your lower back. He gifted you with a quick peck on the lips, still breathing hard against your mouth. “I hate that you don’t let me snap a picture.”

You laughed at that, running one hand through his messy hair in an attempt to save it a bit. In the end, you decided it would be better if he just pushed it back. “I’m not an idiot, believe it or not.” You smiled. “Gum?”

Jungkook nodded and reached for his jacket’s pocket. “Here you go.” He handed you the small colorful wrapping. You promptly threw a piece in your mouth, humming at the sweet taste. He pouted. “You’re going to class like this? You didn’t cum, baby.”

“I’m aware,” you told him, fixing your panties and skirt. Jungkook didn’t seem to worry about the state of his pants, though, because he didn’t follow your movements. “But I’m not gonna be late to this class, today’s topic is half of what’s gonna be on the test. Pick me up after the lesson and maybe you can deal with my delayed orgasm situation. If I’m feeling nice.”

Jungkook smirked, pulling your body closer to his. “Hmmm, love when you boss me around.”

He kissed you again and, when the kiss started to get a bit too long for your liking, you pushed him away. “Jungkook, listen, I have two fucking minutes—“

“Okay, okay, go.” He rolled his eyes, noticing that his attempts at prolonging your little escapade wouldn’t be fruitful. Jungkook stepped back so he could tug himself back inside his underwear, and you turned around to open the door. As your fingers were curling around the handle, he made sure to add, “Don’t exhaust your wrist with all those notes, princess, you’re gonna need it later.”

And of course he smacked your ass when you walked out.

Thirty minutes after your class was over, Jungkook was happy to have his face buried between your thighs, eating you out on the backseat of his car. Suddenly, it seemed as if you weren’t so worried about being caught, because he never heard you moan so loud.

He made a mental note to do that more often.

BAD INFLUENCE COLLECTION

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quindolyn · 3 years

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🦦 sub! james w/ a praise kink helping stressed reader unwind after a big exam? if these are still open??? i love u sm thank u :)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAMIE! 3/5 of my James baby blurbs for today!

Sub Jamie is my favorite, not proofread because I’m TIRED

Word Count: 971

Slamming doors were never a good thing, James may have lacked common sense sometimes, but even he knew that. Throwing his Quidditch magazine to the side he looked up to see you trudge in through the door, you’d just finished making up an exam in Charms, leaving your boyfriend to lounge around his dorm alone until you finished the dreaded exam.

“Hey (Y/N/N), how’d it go?” James asked sincerely, his long legs making strides towards you before lifting the bag from your shoulder to abandon it on the floor.

“Don’t wanna talk about it,” You grumbled, throwing yourself into his arms, “Just want you.”

James expertly lifted you into his arms, guiding your legs to wrap around his torso before you crossed your ankles over each other, anchoring yourself at the small of his back, your arms meeting over his shoulders.

“M’sure you did fine Mommy,” James comforted you as he made his way back towards his bed before laying down, still clutching you to his chest, “You’re so smart, you probably aced it.”

“It was a hard test,” You grumbled into his bare shoulder as he often walked around shirtless, “M’just really wound up now, feel all tight on the inside.”

“Hmmm,” James hummed thoughtfully, dragging a hand in circular patterns on your back, “I could help you with that Mommy, if you wanted,” He offered, wanting to make you feel better.

“How you gonna do that baby?” You asked into his skin, not fully processing the implication of his words as your mind was exhausted from your exam and even keeping your eyes open was an endeavor.

“Was thinking I could eat you out,” He offered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Always relaxes you.”

“It does relax me baby, so smart for remembering,” You praised the boy, moving a hand to grip his strong bicep, “You wanna eat me out, pretty boy? Help Mommy relax?”

“Yes please,” He responded automatically with an enthusiastic nod of his head.

With your consent, James had your clothes shed and discarded both on the floor and Sirius’ bed which sat next to his, leaving you completely naked to which he too followed suit after your insistence that you should have easy access to his ass, should you ever want it.

As James threw your bare legs over his shoulders he buried the tip of his nose in our folds, inhaling deeply to take in your distinct scent before dragging his tongue from your hole, up through your folds, to your clit where he sucked generously. Rolling the bundle of nerves between his teeth James hummed, the vibrations causing goosebumps to form on your skin as a zap of pleasure traveled down your sprint to the pit of your belly where you could feel your arousal starting to build.

“Fuck Jamie,” Your hands immediately burrowed into his scalp, allowing you to get a stronghold on his dark locks, “Feels so good, eat my pussy so well baby.”

James released another moan into the gushing expanse of your cunt at the praise, unable to control himself as your words sent blood straight down to his cock which was pressed painfully against the comforter.

“Yeah, just like that, your pretty moans make Mommy feel so good baby,” You muttered as you bucked your hips unabashedly up towards his lips.

James’ response was muffled as he didn’t bother lifting his face from your cunt but he spoke nonetheless, “Taste so good Mommy, love your pussy.”

You smiled both at the pleasure surging through your body and his sweet words, “You taste even better baby, your cum tastes like candy.”

With each praise that tumbled from your lips James humped against the fabric covering the mattress, movements that didn’t go unnoticed by you.

“Humping the bed baby?” You asked incredulously, “You that needy.”

“M’not needy,” He insisted, looking up at you with wide eyes, the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness before he returned to your clit.

“Aww baby,” You cooed at the obvious lie, “It’s okay to be needy, s’cute. You’re my favorite baby boy.”

The extolls just spurred him on more in his effort to get you to cum on his tongue until you felt yourself teetering over the precipice of pleasure until your climax was unbearably close.

“You wanna cum baby?” You managed to breathe out between gasps, “Gonna make a mess without me even touching you.”

Had you been able to see his face you were sure that it would’ve been painted in a bright red flush but all you could feel was him nodding into your pussy as he sucked your clit.

“Cum when Mommy cums baby, make a mess with me yeah?”

James didn’t need to be told twice, and as he felt your walls tighten around his tongue which lapped at your walls he sped up his thrusts against the mattress until he too was allowing hir orgasm to wash through him in wave after wave of indescribable pleasure.

You often recovered from your orgasms before James, this time being no exception you watched as he slowly came too, his head resting against the inside of your thigh.

“Hey there pretty boy,” You smiled, using a hand to brush the mussed hair out of his face, “You came for Mommy?”

Not yet having recovered enough from his climax James offered you a nod, turning onto his side so that you could see the milky white release that painted his lower stomach, cock, and thighs.

“Such a pretty mess you made baby,” You allowed your hand to cup James’ jaw, running your finger along his bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth, sucking on it like a baby would a pacifier.

“How about you let Mommy lick it up for you?”

tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @pinkandblueblurbs @greenlyblue @zzzfour @itsmentalillness @thatvenusbabe

Thank you for celebrating 800 with me, this celebration is no longer open but all blurbs and headcanons from this celebration and others can be found linked in my master list which you can find in my navigation page!

#thank you #800 follower celebration #James potter #James potter x reader #James potter smut

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slytherinwh0re · 4 years

Text

“You’re mine and you know it”

Draco Malfoy x Female Reader AU

Warnings: SMUT (18+ minors dni) and swearing

Summary: Where you’ve been sneaking around with Draco but you overhear him talking shit about you so you make him regret it.

Masterlist

A/N: request something (:

You really did it this time. You knew you went too far and now you’re going to pay for it but is it really a punishment if it’s exactly what you wanted?

For the past few months you’ve been sneaking around with none other than Draco Malfoy, the annoyingly handsome slytherin. It all started because of how embarrassingly bad he is at charms. Malfoy couldn’t do it to save his life while you’re the best in the class so Flitwick decided that you were to tutor the twit.

Your tutoring lessons started that same night in the library but you could barely speak a few word to each other before you’d start arguing. Despite this you couldn’t deny the fact that Malfoy is sexy. Of course you’ve always known but being so close to him in the empty library seemed to mess with your head, you could barely concentrate on the charm you were trying to teach him. It didn’t help that you’d caught him looking at your lips more than once while you spoke.

You’re not really sure how it happened but one second you were screaming at him for being an arse and the next he had you pushed up against a bookshelf with his hand up your skirt. Ever since you can’t seem to keep your hands off each other, whether it be pushing you into empty classrooms and bending you over a desk or him sneaking into your room so he could put his dick down your throat, it didn’t matter as long as you were with Draco.

Everything had been going great with you two, he even showed massive improvement in charms.

Until today when you walked into the library a little early to set up for your lesson with Draco. There he was with Crabbe and Goyle, telling the two bafoons that he couldn’t stand you and that if it weren’t for him needing to pass charms he would never be seen with someone like you, even if his life depended on it. He hadn’t seen you until that point and when he did all you could do not to cry in front of them was turn and walk away.

That night after crying in your dorm, you decided that you’d be damned if you let a weasel like Malfoy talk about you that way. You are going to make him regret his words if it’s the last thing you do and you know just how to do it. If there is one thing you know about Draco it’s that the boy does not like to share, especially not the girl he considers his.

The next morning you set your plan into action, spending more time on your appearance than you usually would, making sure you look flawless. As you walk into the great hall for breakfast you immediately make eye contact with Draco and his jaw drops, you just smirk and walk over to your friends, not looking at him once.

You have many classes with the slytherin and in every one of them you’ve successfully ignored him. He’s sent you many notes apologizing for his words claiming he didn’t mean it but you just read them, crumple them up, and throw them away. You aren’t going to let him get away with it that easily, even if you do believe him.

Finally your last class of the day rolls around and it’s charms, by this point Draco is seething with anger but you could care less. Instead of sitting at the table you usually share with him you walk right past the blonde to sit with Blaise. You can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head but you don’t dare turn around.

“Hey Blaise you don’t mind if I sit here do you?” You’ve always known he has a slight crush on you.

“Of course not (y/n), a pretty girl like you doesn’t even have to ask.” You just smile at him and take a seat, this is already going so much better than you had planned, you only wish you could see the look on Draco’s face.

“You know Blaise, I noticed you’ve gotten a lot better at quidditch, maybe next time there’s a game I can wear you jersey for good luck?”

“I’d love that, maybe you could let me take you on a date sometime?”

“We’ll see about that Zabini.” You wink at him, he just laughs and shakes his head. The rest of the class you joke around and flirt with Blaise loud enough for Draco to hear.

When you’re leaving Blaise grabs you, “You have something in your hair (y/n), let me get it for you.” You lean in slightly so he can get it, once he does you thank him and kiss him on the cheek, very close to the corner of his mouth.

As soon as your lips touch his face you feel two cold hands grabbing you by the waist and pulling you away from the dark haired boy. Draco dragging you down the hallway until you finally reach his dorm where he pushes you up against the door.

“What the hell are you playing at (y/n), think you can ignore me all fucking day and then flirt with Zabini right in front of me?”

You just smile, “I don’t know what you’re talking about Draco.” You’re surprised he doesn’t have steam blowing out his ear with how angry he looks.

“You know exactly what you’re doing (y/n). I’m really sorry okay? I shouldn’t have said any of it, I didn’t mean a word..”

“Hmmm, I don’t know, I don’t think Blaise would say what you did about me, I think I’d rather go talk to him right now.” You push him away slightly but don’t get far before he has you on the door again, this time with his hand wrapped around your throat, just the way you like it.

“You’re mine and you know it.” He’s an inch away from your face this time.

“Prove it.”

He responds instantly with his lips on yours, his other hand grabbing the end of you hair to tilt your head up while the one around your throat tightens slightly. He pulls away to take off your shirt and bra, immediately putting one of your nipples into his warm mouth while massaging the other one making you moan.

“Get on your knees. Now.”

You don’t need to be told twice, you know if he has to repeat himself there will be hell to pay. You start working on his belt while looking up at him through your eyelashes. Once you get the belt off you waste no time taking off his dress pants and boxers. You begin to slowly pump him in your hand, never breaking eye contact.

“Don’t tease me (y/n).” You immediately flick your tongue over the tip and hollow out your cheeks, taking as much of his dick into your mouth as you could. You bob your head at a steady pace using your hand to pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, making sure to run your tongue down the base just the way he likes.

He’s breathing heavy as he tangles his hand in your hair pushing himself deeper down your throat making your eyes water.

“You look so fucking pretty, you take my dick so well baby girl.” You look up at Draco and the sight almost makes you cum, you’ve never seen someone sexier in your life. Next thing you know he’s yanking you up and tearing off your skirt and panties. He takes his shirt off as well but you notice he’s still holding his green tie in one hand.

“I want you on the bed face down, ass up, arms behind your back. Do you understand.” All you can manage is a slight nod. You do as you’re told when you feel him come up behind you, pulling your hands together and tying them behind your back.

You jolt slightly when you feel his fingers start running up your slick folds, making you moan his name. That’s when he smacks a hand down on your ass and all you can do is yelp.

“You’ve been a bad girl (y/n),” another smack, “Did you really think I would let you get away with what you did today?” You shake your head furiously as he smack your ass again.

Draco leans in until he’s an inch away from your ear making you clench. “I want you to beg for it.” he whispers.

“Please Draco.” You’re barely able to get it out, the feeling of his finger brushing against you driving you mad.

“Please what love?” He teases. Yet another smack, followed by a loud moan.

“Please fuck me, I’m begging you.” With that he pushes into you, grabbing your hair and pulling you up so your back is against his chest. You feel his hips slamming into your ass with every thrust and all you can do is moan. He reaches around you with his other hand and starts massaging your clit making you scream his name.

He kisses up your neck and you can tell he is purposely leaving dark marks everywhere so everyone knows who you belong to. He lets go of your hair and you fall back down onto the bed, him smacking a hand on your ass again.

“Fuck.” You can’t help but moan.

“You like that (Y/n)? Let everyone know who’s making you feel this good.” And that’s exactly what you do. You scream Draco’s name over and over again.

“I’m about to cum.”

“Cum for me sweet girl.” He speeds up and you feel your walls tighten around him making him moan your name and that’s all it takes for you to let go. He rubs your clit as you ride out your high, making you see white. You feel his thrusts become sloppy and shortly after he’s spilling into you.

Draco unties your wrists, kisses both of them, turning you around and pulling you into his chest.

“I wasn’t too rough was I?” he looks at you a little worried.

“Perfect as always Draco.” You smile at him and he just chuckles softly pulling you in for a sweet kiss.

“Good, don’t ever pull that shit you did with Blaise again.”

“Trust me, I don’t plan on it.”

#draco malfoy smut #draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #request something #slytherin #draco malfoy x you #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #harry potter smut #hp smut

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wanna-do-bad-things · 4 years

Text

Command and Obey.

Word count: 4113 Warnings: Oral (male and female), restraints, throat grabbing, edging, dirty talk, use of toys, public teasing, Daddy!kink, unprotected sex. A/N: this is a continuation of Be Told Twice, though it doesn’t have to be read to understand this! Not BETA’d so all errors are my own.

tag list: @luclittlepond @fcgrizi @henrythickcavill @mitzwinchester @mary-ann84 @littlefreya

If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know.

Henry Masterlist.

___

“Why don’t you open your mouth, suck on this for a little bit while I...” he trails his fingers up your inner thigh and brush them over your clothed core. “get you nice and wet and if you’re a good girl, I’ll let you cum and ride my cock. How about that?”

His words had been true, just like you knew they would be. Henry didn’t lie when it came to something like this. He rarely lied at all but especially not about something like this.

You’d sucked the small vibrating egg between your lips as his hands had made quick work of your clothing, stripping you down to just your underwear. His fingertips had stroked over your covered folds, parting them through the fabric of your panties. He’d quickly located your clit, the swelling of it at the top of your slit was too much for him to ignore and his middle finger alone had started an assault against it with such speed all you could do was grip his biceps so hard that thin crescents were imprinted within his skin.

You’d reached your orgasm quickly, your thighs trembling and your knees almost giving out. Had he not caught you, you’d have fallen to your knees without intentionally doing so.

Henry had lowered to his own, pulling your underwear down your thighs and pooled them at your feet. Your wetness had coated your inner thighs, the smell of you brought him to kiss and nip at your skin, press his mouth to your damp lips and force his tongue between them - licking away at everything he’d just caused.

He’d cleaned you up using only his mouth, before reaching up and holding out his palm to you without stopping the new waves of pleasure which rippled through you by that skilful tongue. Obediently spitting the egg out, it had plopped onto his waiting hand and you’d felt the smooth curve of the egg at the entrance to your core and the pressure of it as he began to push it inside.

Once inserted, he’d driven you to the edge. Made you call his name over and over as the toy was switched on, stimulating you from the inside while he continued to lap at you externally. And each time you’d almost reached your second orgasm, he’d stop, wait for it to drain away and he’d start again.

You were eventually given your second orgasm, but not until he was ready and not before you were begging.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I could get you a glass of water?” You can’t remember her name, but she has a friendly face and her perfume, a flowery musk scent, is far too overpowering. Had your attention been elsewhere, you may have considered taking a step or two away from her, just to be able to breathe.

“I’d love a glass actually,” you reply, realising this may be your opportunity to gulp down a few moments of unpolluted air. Your skin was starting to heat, your heart rate was speeding up, your muscles were tightening and you were struggling to put together a sentence that wasn’t please just let me cum.

For three hours he’s been doing this. For him, you assume this is amusing. Watching you squirm under his touch. Henry may be cruel tonight, but he wasn’t cruel enough to turn the settings up full. He kept them low, as a warning, occasionally ramping it up when it was just the two of you. You’d be forced to keep the smile on your face, your teeth clamping down against one another as you do so as he would ask you a question, knowing perfectly well you couldn’t answer as the vibrator sent stunning pulses throughout your pussy.

You’d felt your eyes grow heavier, unable to focus and you’d wanted to bend slightly, reach for him and let out of a series of low pants as you worked your way through the stream of vibrations, but as the two of you are in a crowded room, you’d been forced to keep it together and appear as though Henry wasn’t edging the fuck out of you.

Only minutes ago whilst up on stage to present an award, you’d watched as his hand had slipped into his pocket and you knew what was coming; and sadly it wasn’t you. The vibrations had turned on and you’d been forced to stand and attempt to keep a straight face for the duration of his speech. His eyes had locked with yours throughout it and it wasn’t until you’d made a noise, bringing the attention of the woman beside you, that you realised you were losing control.

Henry noticed, without breaking his presenting stride, and switched it off flawlessly without the crowd being any wiser of his quick in pocket turning off the vibrator trick. You’d tried to brush off your reaction to having a bit of heartburn, but she’d insisted on looking after you.

“He’s quite the man, your Henry.” She comments as she hands you the glass.

“He is.” You find yourself agreeing. Had he not decided to play this shitty game, you may have said it with a little more enthusiasm and a little more kindness.

“I’ve wanted to see him settle down now for quite some time. The way he watches you tonight, it’s as though there’s never been another woman in his life. That you’re the one for him.” You’re tempted to ask her how long she’s known him to be making such statements but before you can, he’s making his way back over to your table. One hand is tucked into the pocket of his trousers, those beautiful fingers of his no doubt wrapped around the controller.

He smiles as he passes other tables; making a show as he shakes the hand of some of the men who stand to greet him. You watch as he leans forward, his free hand pats them on the back of their shoulder as they exchange pleasantry jokes before he moves on again. He has the attention of the room and it’s clear to see why.

“Andrea,” Henry beams as he comes into earshot.

“Henry,” the woman beside you replies, a broad smile stretches her painted pink lips. She’s on her feet before he’s within reach, smoothing down her dress before she reaches an arm out, wrapping it over his shoulder as she stands on her tiptoes to pull him into a brief hug. “I was just telling your lady friend here that I’ve wanted you to settle down for many years now.”

“And here we are.” He gives her a closed-lip smile, but the warmth remains. “You’ll be very pleased to know I’m incredibly happy with my girlfriend,” he corrects her, “and I don’t plan to let go of her any time soon.”

“That is wonderful to hear.” She gives his hand a squeeze. “You absolutely deserve all the happiness.”

“Do you mind if I steal her away for a moment or two? I’ve spotted the two of you speaking and I’d hate to interrupt.”

“Not at all,” she gestures for the two of you to slip away, but not before she places the water into your hand. “For her heartburn.” She explains to him.

“Heartburn hmm?” He asks as you move away from her.

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Ahh yes, she does like to fuss.” He says in a quiet voice as he leads you from the busy room. “Though you are looking beautifully flushed tonight,” he says, tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear.

“I can’t imagine why,” you resist the urge to lean into his touch, even though you’d love to feel the brush of his knuckles over your cheek, the swipe of his thumb over your lips.

“You make it very difficult for me to not want to just take you home right now. Especially knowing what’s under this dress,” his fingers slowly trail up the sides of your dress, feeling where your stockings and suspenders are, attaching to the lace bodysuit that he’d bought you for your anniversary several months back. You enjoyed arriving on set, wearing nothing more than a flashers mack, heels, stockings and this very bodysuit. His hands had traced the soft black chantilly lace, marvelled at the way it had covered your body like a second skin before having his wicked way with you. When he was in that mood, your polite mild-mannered Henry didn’t give a shit who heard as he fucked you into next year.

“I can’t say the thought hadn’t crossed my mind.” You remain where you stand, not allowing your hands to wander as you’d want. Throughout the evening, you’ve tenderly stroked his face, cupped his jaw as he leant in for the lightest of kisses and fixed his tie, you’ve managed to keep them to yourself. Though right now, your gaze is drawn to the thick outline of his swelling cock and you want nothing more than to stroke him until he’s fully hard and leave lipstick marks upon the silky skin of his shaft. “You better hope that tonight passes quickly.”

“Princess, I know you’re not telling me what to do after everything tonight.”

“And if I am?”

He grins down at you, “I hope you are.”

“Hmmm, what to do with you?” Henry asks in a quiet voice the moment the two of you are home. Both of you behaved for the rest of the evening. He didn’t abuse the controller, though he had made a gesture once or twice when you’d ignored him. The barely there seconds which he’d switched it on, sending low pulses throughout your cunt had been both divine and a warning. Your attention had once more pulled to him and he was happy once more.

The journey home was pleasant, small talk in front of the driver about the evening, the conversations the two of you had indulged in and though you had suspicions about what was to come, it was perfectly lighthearted. Certainly a calm before the storm, and when in this mood given his words earlier, it doesn’t rain, it pours.

Henry locks the door behind you both, shrugging out of his jacket and unties his shoes as you walk towards the kitchen.

“What to drink? Red? Champagne?” You call out as your finger traces over the bottles.

“Red.” He replies, his voice much closer than you’d anticipated and you jump a little. His footsteps are now beside you, his back is to you and through his shirt, you can see the way his muscles knit together as he reaches for two glasses.

You take them, choosing to take this moment to observe the way his shirt tightens as his muscles flex beneath the fabric as he selects a wine, pulls the cork from the bottle, and requests a glass back and pours a more than healthy amount before handing it back to you.

“Excellent choice.” You tip your glass towards him in a silent toast and he does the same once his own glass is full. After taking a sip, he places the glass upon the countertop and moves, standing with his feet on either side of yours, his hands grasp the edging of the counter as he stares down at you.

You can smell his aftershave, musky, amber and something else, almost pine like, as it fills your nostrils. “You’ve got some making up to me.” He tells you.

“Me? Make it up to you?” You want to scoff and it shows in your tone. “After what you pulled tonight?”

His movements are fluid, ridiculously so as the knuckles of one hand stroke up your neck and his wrist flicks, turning his hand so that his palm covers your throat, his fingers applying the right pressure to stop your movements.

“Keep talking, and your words won’t be the only thing you’ll be choking on.”

You don’t notice the other hand moving but he must have done so because you feel the low setting of the vibrator kick in once more. He waits for you to say anything, and when you remain quiet, he turns it up another notch.

“Good girl,” he whispers as his lips ghost your own. When you remain quiet, he nips at your bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth and nibbles on it. His tongue swipes over where he’s bitten down, alternating between sucking your lip and nibbling on it, drawing a long moan from you before he kisses you properly. His kisses are urgent, deep and demanding. His lips prise open yours, his tongue enters your mouth and claims it.

His hand keeps you from moving, though you’re desperate to grind yourself against him. You could of course try and maneuver your lower body, try to capture his thigh between yours and grind against it. You’ve rode his thigh before, dug your nails into his shoulder as he’d watched you rocking your hips back and forth, your clit pressing against his muscular thigh until you’d climaxed and shit, did you want to come now. Fuck did you need to.

Henry breaks the kiss, though his lips barely leave your skin as he trails them down your neck, sucking small barely there love bites gently on any skin he can reach along the way until he reaches the curve of your dress at your breasts. His fingers reach behind you, tugging down the zip. His lips leave your skin as he steps back, pulling you forward by your throat to pull the zip fully down before stripping the dress from you.

His fingertips trace over the center of your panties, a smirk appears as he feels just how soaked your underwear is.

“I’m going to need to feel that mouth of yours.” You’re pushed to your knees as the vibrations continue, feeling a little more intense as you kneel before him, your thighs clamped together and your pussy tight. It keeps your body on edge, it keeps you in check, it keeps you wanting and needing more. You lean forward, your hand running his length until they reach the zipper, working the button of his trousers and pull his erection free, stroking him from base to tip. It’s now you realise why he’s keeping the vibrator on and not using it intermittently like before - it’s driving you crazy and you move from side to side, rubbing your thighs together with frustration. Sinking your lips down over the first few inches, you whine around him as the shift in your position has the egg pressing against your g-spot and you palm the inches which you can’t fit in your mouth.

Locking eyes with him as your lips sink repeatedly over the velvety head, you move your hand lower each time as another inch of him works its way into your hot mouth. There’s a tug at the corner of his lips as he leans back, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows and watches you take a little too much before you’re fully ready.

Bastard.

His smile spreads further as you choke, your gag reflex kicks in, tears begin to spill down your cheeks as you close your eyes and your throat muscles tense around him but you persevere and he finally lodges himself within your throat.

“Mmm,” he hums, “I love it when you take it all.”

Henry’s hands lace through your hair as you drag your lips back up to the head and you circle the tip with your tongue, gulping in as much air as you possibly can before enveloping his dick into your mouth once. Once he knows you’re comfortable, he rocks his hips back and forth, fucking your mouth exactly as he wishes, occasionally pushing all the way in until your throat bulges with it. Despite the controlled persona he tries to maintain, you can feel himself beginning to lose it.

“Upstairs,” Henry hisses, tugging on your hair and pulling you from his erection, a long thin trail of spit dangles from the tip to your lips. “Now.”

You’re yanked to your feet and your ass is given a slap as you’re urged forward, heels clicking on the flooring as you make your way to the bedroom, noticing the way he stops the vibrations, leaving you unsure if you’re relieved or disappointed. You’re barely inside when you feel Henry’s lips at your neck, his hands stroking their way along your skin before slipping over, feeling the soft skin of your inner thigh. Your pussy clenches, needing to feel his touch there finally.

“I want to give you everything you want. Everything you need.” He whispers against your skin, nipping at your sensitive spots just under your ear. “But I’m going to need you out of this. Leave the stockings and shoes on.” He instructs and you move, undressing yourself not too slow but enough to have his interest completely as you pull the soft material from your body and step out of it. “You’re being a good girl. Why is that?” He asks as he unbuttons his shirt and begins to undress.

You’ve answered previously on another occasion, only to be told you were demanding and wouldn’t be getting what you wanted. He’d edged you for several days, touches here and there, his fingers deep inside your core, bringing you to the most beautiful orgasm before stopping just as you get there, just as you can begin to feel your juices soaking his knuckles as you almost climax. No, you know better than to risk this again.

“I asked you a question,” he says and places both hands on your shoulders, turning you around and presses his palms to you, pushing you back against the bed.

“I’ll take what you wish to give me.”

“What happened to me owing you? What happened to that smart mouth of yours?” He asks as he pushes open your thighs and rests his hands on either side of your ribcage. His erection presses against your soaked core and it takes everything within you not to lift up and grind against it.

“I’ve learnt my place again.”

“How did you manage that?” He asks, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip, only to clench his jaw as you circle your tongue over it and suck it between your lips. “That’s teasing, not learning to control your bratty mouth.” He tells you, pulling his thumb from you and climbing from the bed. You know where he’s going before he’s reached it and you bite your tongue in an attempt to muffle any groan that may sound.

It’s fair to say that your small box of goodies has grown and Henry ensures each new purchase is fully tested and categorized. Foreplay, for solo, for the both of them and during. Restraints, in many variations had seemed like a good idea until you found yourself within them. Henry drops his chosen pieces onto the bed beside you, along with the vibrator remote and gives you a stern look.

“Hands,” he demands and you hold them out, wrists already together before he can ask for that too. His eyebrow raises ever so slightly, barely there but you catch it and you know you’ve pleased him by doing so. The restraints bite at your skin; a combination of a heat and stinging sensation but you remain quiet. He re-positions himself, his lips closing over your nipple and tongues it to a hardened peak as his finger and thumb pinch and tug at the other. You hadn’t felt him move to touch the controller, but the vibrations quickly start up again, ranging from the lowest to a mid setting within ten seconds. Your legs extend, your toes curl within your shoes and your back arches, pressing your tits closer to his face as you cry out his name as your orgasm takes shape once more.

The embers within your belly from earlier ignite once more, heat spreads throughout you as he tongues at your other nipple; the light stubble of his jaw scrapes over your skin and you can’t hold back the whimper that forms in your throat as he pulls his kisses south, his tongue swiping your folds apart and tastes you for the first time this evening. His lips close over your swollen clit. He licks, swirls the tip of his tongue over the sensitive nub, flicks at it mercilessly until you shake, reaching an orgasm with such intensity that as it rolls into a second one almost instantly. He slips two fingers within you and pulls the egg out with ease.

The buzzing quietens as he switches it off and runs his hands up and down your outer thighs until they reach your ankles. He lifts your leg, placing one at his shoulder and raises your knee of the other leg until it presses against his chest as he kneels before you, tugging down his boxer shorts and palms his cock. Pre-cum drips from the slit and the way your chest rises and falls at the sight of it, doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Want Daddy’s dick?”

“Yes,” you pant pathetically before him.

“Yes what?”

“I need your dick, Daddy.”

“Want me to taste me?”

“Yes Daddy.”

“You should be so lucky. Say it again, do you want my cock?” he demands as he runs the head of his cock along your slit, from your soaked entrance up to your clit and back down again.

“Need your di-” you’re unable to finish your sentence as he pushes inside, bottoming out and begins thrusting without giving you a moment to adjust to his size. Your swollen walls suck him within you until his balls slap against your ass. He feels as deep as you feel tight in this angle. Every drag of his length within you feels blissful as he stretches you open completely.

The more you mewl and whine, the more he fucks you harder until his name drips from your tongue like your cunt drips with wetness. Your gaze switches from watching Henry’s face, admiring the way he bites his lip as he stares transfixed on his cock entering you, reveling in the sight of it as well as the sensation of entering your tight hole and dropping your gaze to watch the very same thing.

Henry was by no means small, he was both perfectly long and thick. The first time you’d felt him, you’d hoped it was smaller than it felt. Seeing it had your panties drenched, your pussy throbbing and your heart racing wondering how you’d remain in one piece. Seeing him enter you so easily, his large size dominating your smallness in comparison is incredible. Your breathing is shaky, it catches in your throat as his pace picks up. Your body rocks with his, your tits bounce with every hard thrust and for the first time, it’s what grabs his attention from the way he pounds into you.

He lowers your legs and your back arches instinctively, lifting your chest upwards and groan as he closes his mouth around your pebbled nipple and alternates between nibbling and sucking. It’s exactly what you need, driving you lift your hand and suck two fingers into your mouth. Once completely slick with wetness, you push your hand between your bodies and play with your clit once more.

“Harder, fuck me harder.” You moan as your fingers quickly match the pace which he takes you. You last, minutes or seconds? You’re not sure anymore. One wave of pleasure is barely finishing when another begins to lick. “Yes, yes, yes,” you repeat, his name quickly following as a mantra as your climax spurts around him. Your pussy throbs, sucking him in deeper. He barely pulls out before he’s pushing back in and this is what he needs to reach his own which follows quickly, his hips coming to a halt, balls pressed against your ass and every inch he has to offer is inside of you as thick ropes of cum paint your core.

Lifting ever so slightly, Henry captures your lips. His kisses are soft and tender, a total contrast to the hate fuck he’s just given you. You reach up and grip his hair, holding him close to you as you kiss him back. He adjusts his body weight and you feel him slowly begin to pull out. Leaning on one forearm, you feel a brief sensation at your opening but it’s gone just as quickly as you feel it. He breaks the kiss, only for his fingers to take its place as he smears your lips with a wetness.

“You wanted a taste, now open up.”

#henry cavill one shot #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x reader smut #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x you smut #henry cavill x ofc

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pixie88 · 3 years

Text

Oxford to the Cotswolds

Chapter 23 - Always the Bridesmaid.

A/N: So here it is the LAST chapter of Always the Bridesmaid. I kinda feel sad but I know it’s not the end of H&L.Thanks so much @aussieez for proof reading. Thank you again to all those following this story and continue to follow it, you have no idea how much it means to me that you take the time to read.😘

I’m finalizing my tag list for this over the next few days, so again if you like to be tagged just let me know!

Read previous chapters HERE!

Warnings: Fluff & NSFW

Word Count: 2914

Pairings: Laila x Harry

Enjoy! 😘

A week later.

After their little spat, Harry decided maybe now was the time to take up his parents offer of using their cottage. They had their trip planned out, they would leave London on the Sunday morning stop at Oxford for a day or two and get to his parents' cottage on the Tuesday afternoon. "We are staying in an old prison that has been converted into a hotel?" Laila asks as they drove along the M40 "Yeah, I thought it was unusual and right up your street?" he takes his eyes off the road for a second to wink at her "You know the whole cops and robbers thing"

She rolls her eyes and laughs, "I'm guessing you're the criminal?" he smirks. "Nah, I'm a law abiding citizen, my love. You seem like the troublemaker here!" she laughs, "I've been looking up all the sites we need to visit while we are there"

He knew she wouldn't be able to visit a place without doing her research.

"Where do you need to visit then?" she smiles at the fact he asked "So, there is the obvious Bridge of Sighs, which is kind of a copy of the Rialto Bridge in Venice, Carfax tower the views of Oxford, from there are supposed to be amazing, Martyr's Cross which is a cross they have in the road where two Anglican bishops and the Archbishop of Canterbury were burned, oh and there is a Harry Potter tour around the University as some scenes were filmed there and Oxford Castle which is right next door to our prison hotel!"

"Sounds like a couple of days of learning!" he laughs at her "NOT just learning! There is a bar with magical cocktails, ones in test tubes, with fire and even smoke!" she's excited.

Harry doesn't know it, but Laila is a bit of a history buff, if she goes somewhere new she will research the hell out of it. Not long after they moved to London Laila was still adjusting to life in the city, Ezra could see his granddaughter struggling, so he planned a day out with her.

They stood on platform 5 at Harrow and Wealdstone Station "Grandad, where are we going?" she asked him "You will see when we get there!" he smiles at her. The train ride wasn't long. Fifty minutes later they pulled into Bletchley Station "Grandad, why are we here?" he chuckled "And I thought you knew everything about World War 2!" he winks at her, but it doesn't click until 10 minutes later when they were standing outside Bletchley Park.

Laila's eyes are wide "Oh my god!! This....this is where Alan Turing cracked the enigma machine!!" she squealed with excitement before hugging him. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" she's beaming, she takes his hand and drags him through the doors.

This was one thing he and his granddaughter had in common, was their interest in World War 2. They spent hours looking around the huts where it all happened. He never saw her face light up so much as she looked around at the artefacts. They had a look around Station X (National Radio Centre) and when they finally reached the Mansion Laila was overjoyed "Grandad, just think all those people that helped crack the code have been in this very room...no house!!"

They spend hours looking around, before grabbing something to eat at hut 4 "Grandad, just think this is where they would get lunch or even dinner!" she looks around the hut "Laila, just think while they were here no one knew! They had to lie about working here, they couldn't tell anyone even family members. They had to take a vow of silence" he said.

This rang true, as years later Max was building an annex for a couple at the end of their garden and when he got talking to the Nan, whom the annex was being built for she told him how her mum worked at Bletchley Park and had to take a vow of silence which she kept until the park reopened as a museum in 1994.

When it was time to go home Laila couldn't thank him enough for taking her there "Just don't tell your brothers!" she laughs, "I've taken the Bletchley Park vow of silence!"

They finally arrived, Harry pulls into a parking space outside the hotel and a valet comes over Harry hands him the keys and they head in with their cases. They check in; "you will be on the fifth floor in room 135, so take the lift to the right once you go through those doors. Here is your room key and enjoy your stay!" she smiles. "I'm sure we will!" Harry grins at her before they make their way to their room.

"Did you ever watch the TV show Bad Girls?" Laila asks him as the lift takes them to the fifth floor. "I did! Izzy made me watch it with her. That woman that played Yvonne plays Shirley from Eastenders now, doesn't she?" she laughs, "I thought you don't watch it?" she nudges him as the doors open "I don't but when you put it on what am I supposed to do?" he winks.

"129...130...4 more rooms to go," she calls behind her. "Actually 5 more my love," he laughs, she turns to look at him "No! You don't include our room!" she protests. "I think you do," he laughs at her. "NO! No, you don't," he doesn't argue with her.

They dump their bags and head out to look around the city "Oh, they have a Harry Potter tour" Laila's tone is ecstatic, Harry sighs "Don't you want to do it?" she asks "If you want to we will do it" her eyes scan his face "Did the kids in school use to take the piss out of you in school because you had the same name?" she asks, he laughs, "No, if anything they used to call me...oh what was his fat mate called?"

"Crabbe?" she looks at him. "Yeah, that's the one," he offers a weak smile, she runs her fingers through his hair before her arms cling around his neck "Well, who's laughing now? I bet a lot of the girls and boys that bullied you regret it now! You are handsome, fit, funny and you are mine" she winks, he can't help smiling at her "And I have a drop dead gorgeous girlfriend" he says making her blush.

"We'll do something else," she smiles at him and kisses his lips "No, we'll do the tour if you want to!" she looks how long the tour is "2 hours, argh, I'd rather be doing some kinda cardio" he looks at her confused and she laughs, "use your imagination, you are a personal trainer" she winks. He quickly gets the hint "Right, what do we need to look at before I drag you back to the hotel?" he grins at her.

Later.

After dinner, they had back up to their room, "I'm going for a shower" Laila winks at him "OK, I'll grab one after you," she smirks "I was thinking more along the lines of you joining me," she doesn't have to ask him twice, he picks her up and she wraps her legs around his waist as he walks them to the bathroom.

After their shower, Laila notices the chocolate on the bed as she's drying herself. "Oh wow! They're shaped like handcuffs!" she giggles "Hmmm.....that reminds me," he wanders over to his case in just his towel and pulls out a pair of metal handcuffs. "And what do you intend to do with those Mr. Taylor?" she bites her lip "Oh, maybe make an arrest," he winks at her, she notices his arousal through the towel "Oh, on what grounds?" she asks.

"Hmmm....for being stubborn and sarcastic, but also gorgeous, funny, adorable and extremely impossible not to fall in love with" he stands in front of her, pulling off her towel until it drops to the floor. He cups her face, his thumb runs over her lips before capturing them with his, he lifts her arms above her head and his hands run up her arms before he suddenly cuffs her hands.

She smirks against his lips "Oh, PC Taylor, what do I have to do to get you to uncuff me?" his kiss becomes more intense. She drops her hands, so they are wrapped around his neck, he moves them until the backs of her knees hit the bed. They fall onto it with Harry landing on top of her "Well, Miss. Carelli, I think you can convince me somehow" his fingers finds her core.

She hisses at the contact, his other hand comes up and pins her arms above her head as he found her slick petals. "I thought I was the one who had to.....oh shit...convince you to free me," she can barely get her words out, his lips find her pulse line "How exactly are you planning on doing that?" he smirks against her neck.

"Stand up and I'll show you," he does as she says, she sits up and pulls off his towel. Grasping him, she works her hand along him a few times before her mouth follows the same path, he groans as his hips thrust forward in need. Her pillowy lips work along his hardened member, he grunts as her jaw slacks, taking him in further "Fuck...." he mutters.

He rocks his hips back and forth as her tongue runs along the ridges of his cock, he grips a fistful of her hair. His head fell back as he groans, "That's...it gorgeous! Fuck...". She hums against him and her pace moves faster. His knees bucks, her apex is throbbing as she feels him nearing the edge "Laila....I'm...gonna....fuck!" he jerks as he hits his climax and he groans.

She releases him from her mouth and looks up at him. "Are you going to uncuff me now?" she asks as she's sat on her feet, he looks down at her with a grin. He lifts her up and throws her onto the bed, making her giggle "Hey, you said would take these off!" he has a mischievous grin on his face. "Well, Miss. Carelli! I prefer to have you like this, sorry." he captures her lips.

"That's not fair......." she protests, but she soon cuts off as he moves down her body to her centre, his hands grasp the back of both her thighs. His tongue moves apart her folds "Oh Harry!" she moves her arms to run her fingers through his hair. He pulls away, lifts her arms above her head again and kisses her lips "Keep them there!" he tells her before moving back to her core.

Her breathing hitches, he sucks against her clit, making her cry out "Ohhh"

A little later.

His legs are entwined with hers beneath the sheets, she's cuddled up against him as her head rests on his chest "When we get back do you think we should look at properties?" she lifts up and places her hand against his chest stroking his chest hair, looking up to him. He smirks at her, "definitely!" he strokes her hair away from her face "What if we have a look online now?" she stares into his ocean blue eyes and bites her lip waiting for his response.

He reaches for his phone "Let's have a look," he loads up and scrolls through the properties. "What are we going for?" he asks "Somewhere with gates, private drive and pool," she laughs, he digs his fingers into her ribs and she tries to wiggle away "Ahhhh! Harry! Stop!!" his phone is discarded, he cups her face and claims her lips.

His body covers hers and he takes her against.

The next day.

They are back in the car on the way to Harry's parents cottage in Wyck Rissington, Gloucestershire.

Along the way they find a supermarket and grab a few essentials before they continued their drive. They arrive at the cottage 10 minutes later "Aww wow! This is cute!" she smiles as they get out the car. "And it's ours for the next few days" he winks at her.

They head inside, "wow, look at those beams!" she points up at the ceiling. "Have you been here before?" she looks to Harry. "Nah, Mum and Dad haven't let any of us use it...well until now" he winks.

Once they bring in their bags inside, he takes her hand and they have a look around when Harry spots a hot tub outside "Oh, what do we have here?" he nods as he opens the door "I didn't bring a swimsuit!" he has a devilish grin. "Who said anything about swimsuits?" she bit her lip and shook her head at him.

Harry runs Laila a bubble bath with candles around the tub and told her to relax while he cooked dinner. The water was warm against her skin as she sinks into the bathtub, a minute or so later there is a knock on the bathroom door before Harry wanders in with a glass of wine "Here you go, my love," she smiles up at him as she takes the glass "Thank you! So, what's for dinner?"

He leans over kisses her nose and winks "You'll find out when it's on the table. Now enjoy." He leaves her to it.

34 minutes later.

Laila walks into the bedroom and Harry has laid out a dress grey dress on the bed for her to wear. She smiles and starts to get dressed, underneath she puts on some lacy lingerie she had brought for the trip. When she's dressed, she goes in search for Harry, as soon as she saw him, she blushes but can't help but laugh.

"Harry!! What are you doing?" he's stood in the kitchen in just an apron and his boxers, he looks up at her and grins. "You've heard of the Naked Chef right?" he winks. "But he isn't actually naked!" she laughs at him. "I'm not either! I was thinking about it but I thought that would be unsanitary. I see you're wearing the dress I picked out for you." She makes her way over to him.

"Yeah, but the view would be...very sexy," she squeezes his behind "What's for dinner?" she looks around him on the kitchen side "Ah, ah, ah go and sit down," he moves, so she can't see, she sighs, "Fine!" Laila pulls out her phone and sends a picture she took earlier.

Laila looks over to Harry, biting her lip and he catches her checking him out. "You realise I'm not dinner right?" He says. She looks up catching his eye, "might not be dinner, but there is always dessert!" She winks twirling her hair. He chuckles turning back to cooking.

She puts down her phone as he comes over with 2 plates, placing them on table. "Ooo spaghetti and meatballs!" he pours them more wine, Laila twirls her fork collecting the spaghetti "Did you ever see the film The Lady and the Tramp?" she looks over to him. "I have. Mila made me watch it once." He laughs. "Do think we can do a Lady and the Tramp kiss?" she hold up a a string of spaghetti and he chuckles "We can try. Let me put it in my mouth first" Laila cracks and can't help but laugh "OH MY GOD!!"

"Come on, let's give it ago!" He takes the end of the spaghetti and lifts the other side to Laila, she takes it in her mouth and begins to get closer to Harry until their lips are just above each other's. He brushes his lips lightly over hers before pulling away. "Come on, eat up" he smiles at her and she rolls her eyes at him.

After dinner, he takes their plates. "I'll wash them up," she offers. "You can or I can put them in the dishwasher," he jokes, "Actually, you load the dishwasher. I'm going to start up the hot tub!" she gets up from the table "Already done, my love!" he winks at her. "Oh OK!" she stands and lets her dress fall off her shoulders until it's a puddle on the floor.

He looks her up and down. "I didn't bring a swimsuit, but this will do?" say asks as she makes her way to the back door. His eyes never leave hers, she grins, knowing she had him hook, line and sinker. He quickly closes the dish washer and chases after her, she squeals running from him and towards the door.

@lem-20 @aussieez @secretaryunpaid @irisofpurple @khoicesbyk @txemrn @gloriousalmondvoiddreamer @tea-me-kah @casualpostqueen @beautifuluknownvoid @wombatsxkookaburras

Their moans fill the night sky, both are blissfully happy.

Series 2 - Chapter 1

#atb #Always The Bridesmaid #final chapter #original writing #harry x laila #oxford #oxford castle #oxford martyr #oxford university #malmaison oxford #Original Work #original character #original story #@pixie 88 original

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syilcawrites · 3 years

Note

A prompt (dunno if I should've messaged or sent a note, but eh, I'm used to asks):

Following the defeat™ of Ganon à la Link and Zelda, our favourite pair have settled in Kakariko Village for a bit as a temporary reprieve.

Then disaster strikes.

It starts with spaced-out sniffles. Then as hushed whispers come on the light snorts of a nostril attempting to impede the flow of an oncoming river of muscus. Rising to a crescendo, a throat reddens and sputters in an attempt to relieve an unending roughness that hinders speech and catches on food.

Link has the common cold.

Never has the hero felt so demeaned, so disrespected by the gods. His bones and blood and mind were forfeit the moment he drew the Sword as a child, of that he came to know and accept. But to now be impeded by snot and sebum - no affront could be greater.

So, stubborn as he is, he attempts to go on about his day, training, cooking, collecting - but, of course, fails spectacularly, his condition worsening. Looking from afar, Zelda finds that she's had enough and tends to the matter directly.

Ensue whatever great stuff you wanna write about.

TL;DR: Link gets mildly ill, worsens it by overexerting himself and Zelda has to force him to rest; magic ensues.

Sorry if that was way too detailed or exact for a prompt... I just have so many ideas of my own that I want to write but I just don't have the time right now. Sho, I'm keeping to plans aplently. ☺️

a/n: i loved this prompt and how detailed it was thank u for sending me this it was so fun to write sfauihhaifs sobs... I hope to see your writing someday!!! And hope you enjoy this lil fic (’:

ao3

to chase away a cold

It's been a little over two months since Calamity Ganon had been defeated. Paya had been kind enough to let them stay in her room for the time being, while Zelda recuperated from… well, everything. And it had been quiet around Hyrule since—the significantly decreasing amount of monster attacks had been a blessing for their short trips; they had run into little to no problems, fortunately, ever since they reunited.

But then, it started with a sound that Zelda could only affiliate with to a mouse squeak.

Her wide eyes flit to the ground, where Link was sitting atop of a futon that Paya had laid out for him. He didn't look at her as he continued shining away at his weapons, his back still facing her, pressed against the mattress of the bed Zelda was on.

She shrugged it off, resuming to mess around with the Sheikah Slate in her hands. Perhaps she was just hearing things… it wouldn't be surprising, since she hadn't officially settled into being back in her own body yet—

Zelda's ears perked up as the peculiar squeak happened again. But this time, the bed shook a little. She quickly lowered the Sheikah Slate from her view once more, her eyes narrowing.

"Link, was that you?" she asked, poking his back with her big toe.

He shook his head and shrugged.

Suspicious.

——————————————————————

The next morning, Zelda awoke at noon.

Which was, of course, normal for her. She was never an early-riser to begin with, even before the Calamity.

But Link? He was always up the moment the sun rose. She was a light sleeper, and always heard him get up, despite his best efforts to be quiet. And he never missed a day to leave a couple of fresh wildflowers in the vase next to the bed for her before she would get up to start the day.

But today, the wildflowers at the bedside had been the ones from yesterday—beginning to grow flaky and brown.

And Link was still sprawled on the futon next to the bed, obliviously sleeping away.

"Link," Zelda whispered, leaning over the bed. But he didn't budge. Weird. "Link!" Zelda leaned over a bit further to shake his shoulder. "Get up!"

"Hah?" He flinched, startling himself awake. He sniffled as he looked over at her with glazed, sleepy eyes.

"It's past noon. I thought you were going to help Cado—"

"Noon?" he gasped, scrambling up from the futon. "I told him I'd come by at eight," Link mumbled, fumbling for his tunic and trousers. "We might have to go to the Great Fairy Fountain tomorrow instead, I promised I'd help him find his cuccos today." His voice sounded a bit heavier than she remembered.

She waved her hand at him, shrugging as she stifled a yawn. "It's okay, go help him. I'm sure he's waiting." Zelda quirked an eyebrow up as he sniffled again—he was doing that a lot more recently. "If you need a hand, I can help."

"No, you're still recov—" Suddenly, Link's face contorted up in a way that she had never seen before—he whipped around and sneezed into the crook of his elbow.

"Did you catch something?" Zelda asked, shifting off of the bed to place a hand on his forehead. But with each step she took closer to him, he took one away from her as he shook his head fervently.

"I'm fine," he insisted, pulling his cloak over his shoulders, still facing away from her.

Suspicious.

——————————————————————

Zelda sat outside on the steps of Impa's home, eating pickled plum with her as the both of them watched Link run around Kakariko, trying to find Cado's precious, missing cucco's.

"It is beyond my understanding as to why Link even tries," Impa scoffed, handing Zelda the plumpest pickled plum of the batch. She still didn't have much of an appetite, but Impa had been as observant as she always was, and usually only offered Zelda bite-sized foods that she knew she wouldn't have trouble eating. "Cado loses his cuccos as least twice a month."

"Maybe we should build him a bigger fence," Zelda murmured, giggling as she watched Link wrestle with a cucco he was trying to drag over to Cado's little coop. "They wouldn't be able to fly as easily."

"Those little buggers will always find a way," Impa scoffed, shaking her head. "And—"

A loud sneeze caused the both of them to flinch—Link's well-fought battle against the cucco ultimately failed, and Zelda watched the aftermath of it with pity. He stared in defeat as it scampered away, back into the bushes.

"Link's been a little weird, hasn't he? He hadn't even stirred by the time I was awake," Zelda inquired, plopping another pickled plum into her mouth, chewing slowly. His jog was a little slower than usual, and he had to pause every five minutes to catch his breath—that never happened before.

"He's been staying up a little later than usual, hasn't he?"

Zelda nodded—he wanted to take her to several locations that were a bit further than their usual trips, so they had been mapping out the most efficient way to go about their mini excursion. While Link was an early bird, Zelda was more of a night owl… it did make sense that he would be a little off recently, with a shift in his sleeping schedule.

After he spoke to Cado, probably to apologize for not getting them all today, Link stumbled—he stumbled—a bit on his feet as he made his way to the cookpot, since dinner was just around the corner.

Suspicious.

——————————————————————

By the time Link went into the room to retire for the day, Zelda had already situated herself on the futon. She was lying on her stomach, humming, as she plotted out the last of their destinations for the upcoming trip. She craned her head to the door when she heard it creak open; he looked even worse than earlier.

"How was your bath?" Zelda asked, sitting up.

"Good…" he said, sniffling, a little confused. He pointed at her, quirking an eyebrow up.

"You're sleeping in the bed tonight—and!" Zelda pointed at the cup of tea sitting on the desk next to the bed. "You should drink this up before you go to sleep. The trip can wait until you get better."

"What do you mean? I'm fine," he muttered, rubbing his nose.

"Link, having a cold is a perfectly normal thing to catch—and you just made it worse by trying to hide it. Which you were terrible at doing, by the way." Zelda grabbed the cup and held it out to him, waiting. "Plus, I added some extra ingredients that I think could possibly increase the potency of the medicine—"

"I'm not sick," he said, shaking his head with noticeable effort. "I don't need it, I'm fine. I—I feel better than I've ever had before, actually." He sneezed—and the cough that accompanied it sounded just as painful.

"But I made this specifically for you," Zelda muttered, lowering the cup a bit. Before she could continue to convince him to drink it, he had already grabbed it out of her hand and taken a large gulp out of it.

"You didn't put something weird in this, right?" Link asked, sniffing it. At least he tried to sniff it, but his nose was closed up. She laughed at his scrunched up face as he continued to try to smell it.

"It's a secret," she said, patting the top of the bed. "It's been a long day, you should rest."

He took one more long gulp before handing the cup to her with a satisfied sigh, his smile a little woozy. Zelda quickly grabbed it from him and stared into it—he had drank the whole thing in two gulps. He was supposed to drink it slowly.

He flopped over on top of the bed, burying his head into the pillow.

"This bed is really comfortable," he said, his voice muffled as he rubbed his face into it.

"Hey, you're going to get snot all over my pillow if you do that!" Zelda scoffed, tugging at his sleeve as she twisted around.

"It smells like you," he murmured, looking at her with half-lidded eyes as he strained to keep them open.

"Oh? And how do you know what it smells like if your nose is clogged?" She brought her arms over the bed and folded them together to rest her cheek against them. She had never witnessed him getting sick, even before the Calamity. And to see him acting a little aloof brought warmth into her chest—even though he hadn't recovered every memory, he still treated her with familiarity, which she appreciated. She was afraid of being thrown into a world so familiar, yet different.

But he stayed, even though he didn't have to.

"Hmmm... I can just feel it," Link muttered as he closed his eyes, pressing deeper into her pillow.

"You can feel what my pillow smells like?" Zelda snorted, trying to hold in her laughter. Instead of responding to her, he began snoring.

Zelda would have to remember that including a few sprinkles of nightshade acted as an excellent way for someone to fall asleep quickly.

#zelink #botw #breath of the wild #yes I will be making graphics for the prompts #because they're fun asfhjvf #syilca answers #my fanfics #zealouslinkage

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alirhi · 3 years

Text

I don't even know where half of this came from XD

Here's another chunk of that weird BuckyNat fic. I really should probably give it a title at some point... maybe.

Anyway, just so we're clear here... Warnings! 18+ There is smut in this one! sorta lazy smut lol I stalled out and cut partway through, but it's there. (sorry. I haven't written explicit sex in years) Also some angst and a random Stucky reference that kinda wrote itself in there

Down here...

As Bucky set her down, sprawled across her bed, the full implications of what he'd said finally sank in and she stopped him with a hand on his chest, pushing him back. "I never said I would have sex with you."

"That's true," he agreed with a smirk, grabbing her wrist and pressing a wet, open-mouthed kiss over the vein. "You didn't. And I didn't ask. So..." Never taking his eyes off of hers, he nipped her wrist and purred, "Do you wanna have sex with me?"

Charming. Bastard. She felt his tongue against her skin and had to hold her breath to stop herself from whimpering. There were so many reasons this would be a bad idea; they weren't blood-related, but they were supposed to be siblings, Bucky was a wounded soldier who'd just gotten home from an overseas field hospital, they didn't even really know each other... But then his lips were on hers and his tongue was sliding into her mouth and all of the logical, sane responses she could have come up with were just gone. All Natasha wanted was for the painfully gorgeous man on top of her to keep touching her.

"Fuck me, Bucky," she whispered, clinging to him as his metal hand slowly drifted, feather-light, down her body.

He chuckled, nipping her neck, and promised in a low rumble that set her body on fire, "We'll get there, doll. Eventually."

Nat grabbed his hand, pulling up up to her face. She nipped at one shiny steel fingertip and then pressed his palm to her cheek, nuzzling it. "Can you feel anything?"

"Not really," he admitted, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "There are pressure sensors that let me know when I'm touching something or how hard I'm gripping, but..." He freed his left hand from her grip and used it to brace himself up while he brought the other up to brush his thumb over her lips. When she bit him, he smiled. "It's not like this; not like real human contact."

His hand trailed down, sliding over her breasts, down her torso, to settle between her legs. "If I wanna feel your warmth, your skin, how deliciously wet you are..." One finger slipped effortlessly inside her, then a second as Bucky mumbled, "Left hand is useless."

Moaning softly as she felt his fingers curl and scissor inside her, Nat bucked her hips up and ran one hand up and down the hard metal arm still bracing him up over her. "I still think it's kinda hot." His thumb brushed over her clit and she whimpered. "Bucky...!"

"Hmmm?" The smirk on his face made her want to cry; he was so beautiful, and on the surface so perfectly in control... But there was a shadow behind those piercing blue eyes that told her he wasn't even fully there in the room with her. Something was on his mind, something that made him hold himself back even as he kept pushing her forward.

It was hard to think clearly enough to truly read him - fuuuuck he was good with his fingers! - but by the time he moved down and buried his face between her legs, one thought finally made its way to the surface: He was deflecting. Whatever it was, it was eating at him but he didn't want to talk about it, so he was using sex to keep his inquisitive stepsister from asking.

"Bucky, do you even want me?"

He stopped and looked up at her, licking his wet lips absently. The look of confusion that crossed his gorgeous face made her wonder for a split second if she'd read him wrong, but then it faded to a sort of vaguely amused resignation and he nodded, pressing a kiss to the tender flesh just below her navel. "Yes. Yeah, I really do."

That was good enough for the moment. With a little half-smile, she tugged him up for a kiss and whispered against his lips, "Then be here with me." Whatever was bugging him, she'd get it out of him after.

Bucky struggled, though he did his best not to let Nat see it. He had the most unsettling feeling that she could see right through him, but mercifully, she didn't stop him again. They had a minor scare when they heard the front door open and realized they'd lost track of time, but Bucky hastily clamped his metal hand over Nat's mouth and waited. Their parents' voices got lower as they came up the stairs, and he just barely heard his mother musing aloud to her husband, "They must already be asleep."

A door closed down the hall, cutting off their barely-audible conversation, and both Bucky and Natasha heaved sighs of relief. Figuring it was best not to push their luck, he started to pull out, but Nat stopped him with both long legs wrapped tight around his waist. With a grin he could just barely see in the dark, she whispered, "You're not going anywhere."

He glanced at the door, straining to hear every tiny sound, any indication that they were about to be caught. There was nothing. The looming threat of it was oddly exciting; smirking, he leaned down and murmured against her ear, "Think you can stay quiet for me, sweetheart?"

Her hand closed around his left wrist and squeezed as her lips brushed his ear and she purred, "I think you can make me."

It took him about half a second to figure out what she meant, and then his metal hand closed around her throat. He made sure to keep his grip light, to avoid actually hurting her, but every time she failed to keep her voice down as he pounded her into the mattress, he squeezed just a little harder for a second.

He had to bury his face between her breasts to muffle his own groans as he came deep inside her a few minutes later.

"Oh, fuck..." Nat's voice was raspy from the abuse her throat had taken as Bucky collapsed beside her and she immediately curled into him. "That was... fuck, Bucky, that was amazing!"

"You liked that?" Even as he held her close, metal arm curling around her protectively, he gaped at her. He'd thought he was psychotic, getting off on controlling her like that, but... she liked it, too?

"Pretty sure the last two times I came were just from you choking me," she half-joked, nuzzling his chest. "So... yeah."

"Good to know, I guess."

"Hey..." She was just as tired as he was; with a little grunt from the effort of moving, she rocked up onto her elbow and stared down at him. "What's wrong?"

Bucky rolled his eyes. "You're interrogating me now?"

"Tactically, it makes sense. You're as vulnerable as you're ever getting." She smiled and kissed his cheek. "But no, I'm not interrogating you. I care. What's wrong?"

"You are going to make a terrifyingly good spy, Nat. Jesus..."

"That's the goal. Now talk to me."

"I'm broken." He didn't even have to look at her; he could feel her perplexed, curious stare. Keeping his gaze locked firmly on the ceiling, he told her flatly, "I could have stayed overseas. I was supposed to. Not to fight, but to help in the lab, with the..." He lifted his hand and waved it a little so she'd know what he meant. "With the tech. But I couldn't take being there after..." Jaw tightening, he trailed off and turned his face away from her.

Nat didn't let him. With a gentle hand on his jaw, she forced him to face her again, though she couldn't make him look directly at her. "You're not broken, Bucky. You've been through Hell. I wouldn't want to stay, either. As cool as the new bionic arm thing is, it's gotta-"

"That's not why." Shrugging, Bucky glanced at his hand and added, "I mean, yeah, it's taking a lot of getting used to, but the arm's not why..."

She winced, sitting up and folding his metal hand between both of her own. "You lost someone." The pain he was radiating, so strong it was clearly visible on his face even in the dark, told her she was right long before he reluctantly nodded. "Who?"

"...His name was Steve," he told her after a long moment, voice thick with grief and tears he fought not to shed. "He saved my life over there, twice... And he died in my arms."

"Oh." Well. She'd read that situation a bit wrong, hadn't she? "I'm sorry, I thought... Well, it doesn't matter. Bucky, I'm so sorry. That's awful."

"You thought right, Nat," was his gruff reply as he sat up and started scanning the shadows for his clothes. "I was - am - in love with him."

Natasha sat back on her heels, stunned. Unsure what to do or say, all that came out as she flicked the light on for him was a soft, confused, "Oh."

#fanfiction #mcu #au #buckynat #stepcest #smut #18+#stucky #angst

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Caught in his web, Chapter 41

‘Spread them wider.’ Loki commanded. Pleased when Chloe did as she was told. ‘Good girl. Now pull harder.’

Chloe huffed as she pulled on the handle after pushing the curtains open more to let all the light in. But the sliding door still wasn’t budging.

Loki chuckled and crossed the room to try. ‘It sometimes gets a bit stuck. Needs a good tugging.’ He moved in behind her and reached around to pull it open, rather easily in comparison to Chloe’s attempts.

‘Stop with the innuendos.’ She folded her arms over her chest and glared up at him, making him laugh.

‘You love it.’ He winked at her and went back to finish getting dressed.

Chloe stepped out onto the patio from their bedroom. The ground was already warm under the sun, feeling nice on her bare feet. She looked down at the ocean, it looked so peaceful and calm.

‘Hey, Loki.’ She called in.

‘What is it, doll?’ He asked, coming outside. He was wearing black shorts and an unbuttoned green shirt.

‘I know you planned for us to have breakfast out here. But could we have it down on the beach instead? Pretty please?’ She begged, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

Loki smiled and slipped his arms around her, he pulled her into him.

‘Hmmm, I guess we could.’ He grinned, kissing the tip of her nose and making her stomach flutter.

‘Yay! Thanks!’ She hugged him tightly. Loki pressed his face into her hair and enjoyed the moment, having her in his embrace, willing to be there.

Loki grabbed a picnic blanket and put their breakfast into a box to carry down to the beach. Chloe went ahead slightly, excited to get onto the sand. She ran straight over to the ocean and dipped her feet in.

After setting up the picnic Loki went to join her, playfully splashing her. She laughed and splashed him back, then she went running up the beach in the shallow water. Loki gave chase and soon caught up to her, but she tricked him by quickly darting back down the sand towards the blanket.

He reached her just as she got there and grabbed her, they tumbled down on the sand. Loki playfully bit her neck and growled, then kissed her hungrily. ‘Mmm… I would just take you right now. But we should get on the blanket, as I do not fancy getting sand into places where sand should not be.’

Chloe started laughing as Loki sat up and pulled her onto the blanket, brushing off as much sand as possible, then they had a quickie before tucking into a delicious breakfast.

They spent the day relaxing, mainly on the beach or in the pool. Chloe enjoyed just floating in the pool with the sun beating down on her. Loki had to keep calling her out to re-apply sun cream. That he did for her, of course. She was sure he took his time on purpose and put on much more than was really needed, but she didn’t complain. She rather enjoyed feeling his hands gliding all over her.

After coaxing her out of the pool for what felt like the millionth time, once he’d lathered her in more sun cream, he didn’t let her leave the sun lounger this time. He sat back and pulled Chloe between his legs, to rest back against his chest.

‘You’ve had enough swimming for today.’ He chuckled. ‘Are you enjoying our little getaway?’ He asked, sliding his hands and up down her arms.

‘It’s amazing.’ She craned her head back to smile at him.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ He purred and captured her lips, kissing her softly.

In the evening, Loki had Chloe tied to the bed by her wrists and ankles. She was blindfolded, gagged and obviously naked, just as he liked her to be. Loki had also treated her to an orgasm already so he could get a small butt plug into her, he was delighted with how well she took it.

‘Look at you, bound and naked, in the dark. Just waiting for something to happen… So many things could be done to you.’ He chuckled wickedly, stroking up her inner left leg, stopping mid-thigh.

‘I could do anything, really. And you would be completely helpless to stop me.’ He slid his hand from her naval right up between her breasts and to her neck, he wrapped his hand around her and squeezed, making her gasp.

Her breathing was heavy already but with his hand there, it became a little more erratic. Wondering if he was going to squeeze or not…

‘Such a pretty little thing you are.’ He brushed his thumb up and down at the side of her neck, enjoying the way she squirmed as best she could in her bonds. ‘I could so easily take your breath away… I own every bit of you, doll.’ He growled.

Loki gave her a brief squeeze, watching her closely as her hands balled up into fists since they couldn’t grab hold of anything.

‘Good girl.’ He slid his hand back down her chest, stopping on his way to stroke her nipples that were hard little peaks from arousal.

She whined around her ball gag as he toyed with them in turn, then he couldn’t resist leaning down to suck on them, moaning at her taste.

Her body was starting to get quite flushed as he turned his attentions further down her body. He started with soft, light touches. Just ghosting over her clit. Then he put his attention further down and tapped the butt plug a few times, making her jump at the feeling.

‘You’re taking to anal play very well.’ He purred, climbing on the bed and moving between her legs, she could feel his warm breath against her cunt. ‘It won’t be long before you’ll be taking my cock up here.’ He took hold of the plug and really started wiggling it about, making her whine.

Loki chuckled and took a teasing lick from the bottom of her cunt right up over her clit. He repeated the action a few times while still moving the plug about, egged on eagerly by her moans and cries that were spilling out through her gag.

Unable to resist any longer, Loki sat up and positioned himself between her legs. He stroked himself a few times then lined up with her and pushed in, moaning loudly as her body welcomed him in.

Chloe found the feeling of being filled in both holes absolutely wonderful. She didn’t really want to admit to enjoying anal play, but Loki was taking it so slowly with her and always made sure she was nice and aroused and that anything going in there was lubricated enough, that it was difficult for her not to enjoy it. Especially when added with his cock in her cunt.

‘You feel so much tighter with your ass filled.’ Loki grunted above her as he started moving faster. His movements against her was causing the plug to move with every thrust, giving her stimulation everywhere.

Being restrained, blinded and gagged was taking everything away from Chloe. All she could do was feel. And take whatever Loki decided to give to her.

Luckily for her, he didn’t tease or push any limits, instead he just fucked her good and deep. Sucking her nipples and nibbling on her neck, making her cum twice before eventually cumming himself.

Though he wasn’t quite finished with her yet. When he pulled out, her cunt was clenching in desperate need for more. Wanting to be filled again, missing him. But he didn’t leave her wanting for too long.

But she was surprised and squeaked when she felt a silicone vibrator being pushed into her instead of the warmth of his cock. It was a delightful surprise though as he started to fuck her with it, even more so when he turned the vibrator on and pushed it deeper so the clit stimulator was pressed snugly to her clit, almost encasing it as it buzzed away.

Loki bit his lip as he watched her writhing, he turned the vibrations on higher and chuckled at the scream she let out as she tried bucking her hips up, but couldn’t because of the restraints. He reached over and pinched her nipple, grounding her a little more with the pain.

He made her cum another twice with the vibrator, then he finally had some pity on the poor girl and turned it off. After slowly pulling the butt plug out, he untied her and took off her blindfold and gag.

She took a moment to come to her senses, the light quite bright after being in darkness for so long. Loki lay down next to her and cupped her cheek, turning her face towards him as she curled up a little, her muscles aching from being spread.

‘Are you with me?’ He smiled, stroking her face.

She opened her mouth but said nothing, unable to find her voice. She closed her eyes and leaned more into his touch. Loki chuckled softly and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. She nestled her head into the crook of his neck and relaxed, getting her breathing back under control while he stroked her hair soothingly.

He knew she was experiencing sub drop. So he just let her be, allowed her to take all the time she needed with him just talking softly to her and holding her.

She placed her hand on his chest and swallowed hard, looking up into his eyes.

‘Are you ok, doll?’ He asked, rubbing her back.

‘Yeah.’ She said quietly, nodding.

Loki kissed her forehead and smiled.

‘Do… Do you love me?’ She asked, her voice almost inaudible. But of course, Loki heard her. He also heard the uncertainty and slight nervousness in her tone, too.

He took hold of her hand that was on his chest and enveloped it with his, squeezing her.

‘I do love you, Chloe. Very much.’ He said honestly, bringing her hand up so he could kiss the back of it.

She smiled, still in a bit of a daze. But then she put her head back down on him and snuggled in closer. Her heart feeling happy.

‘I love you.’ She whispered as she closed her eyes.

Loki buried his face into her hair and smiled. He fell asleep with her rather quickly, but with a smile on his face.

#Loki #tom hiddleston #fan fiction #caught in his web

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frostsinth · 4 years

Text

Siren at the Lighthouse : One-shot

They didn’t have to lift their head at the knock on the wooden frame of the apartment. They already knew exactly who it was by the strong rush of the salty brine that breezed through the open door. Stronger than that of the ocean waves crashing against the cliff below. A grin filled their face as they set the last of the ingredients on the counter.

“Hey! Come on in! I just started prepping everything-”

They jumped as a large, sopping wet fish was heavily slapped on the counter beside them. As long as their leg and twice as fat. Their nose wrinkled up at the beady little eye winking up at them, and they turned with their hands on their hips to consider their best friend.

He gave them an answering grin, mirroring their own, save for his sharp teeth glinting in his elongated jaw. The siren had long ago discarded keeping up his glamour around them; he knew they didn’t care. Actually, if they were being honest, they preferred him in his natural skin. So that was how he stood before them, the sea-foam colored hair at the top of his head nearly scraping the ceiling of their lighthouse apartment. The rest of the silky soft curls spilled about his shoulders, still damp from the ocean spray. They knew if they reached out to touch it, they would find sand trapped amid the thick locks too. His skin was a shade not too unlike their’s, but his was flushed with deep blues and teals instead of pink. Perhaps due to his blue blood, though they had never bothered to ask. He had a long lavender frill that raised and lowered like a bony sail along his spine with his moods. The edges and creases of his muscles boasted tiny glimmering scales of green, sapphire, and a deep magenta that flashed pink in the light. Had he his tail, the scales would have matched its kaleidoscope of colors perfectly. They were pleased to see he had at least politely donned a pair of torn trousers over their shore legs this time, rather than marching about bare naked as he usually did. Though they’d be more concerned if they had any neighbors closer than three miles away; and if he was more comfortable walking around in his own skin, who were they to stop him? His eyes, a solid purple with only the twinkle of light to distinguish where he settled his gaze, turned their attention on them.

“You said you wanted cod.” Roque teased with a grin.

They rolled their eyes, shoving him with their elbow. “I meant the fillets… not the whole damn fish!”

He shrugged, pushing his hair back out of his eyes. Sending a fresh salty scent washing through the air between them. Their nose twitched, and their heart sped up a little at the sight of his athletic frame flexing with the movement.

“Be more specific next time.” He shoved them back, more gently as he was much larger than them, still baring those sharp, pointy teeth in a wide grin as he leaned over. “Want me to clean it then?”

“The recipe I have is for fillets.” They paused, flicking their gaze over the ingredients on the counter to avoid meeting their best friend’s dark glimmering eyes. Ignoring the dryness settling in their throat and the tickle at the back of their neck at his sudden proximity as he stepped a little closer. “I’m not sure how to adjust it for a whole fish.”

His soft “Hmmm” answered them, and they swallowed to chase away the lump in their throat. What was wrong with them!! How many times had he come up to visit since they had met years back on the shore below their lighthouse? The siren had washed up, his tail shifting to legs as he dried in the sun, badly wounded. It had taken all of their strength and ingenuity to get him up to their bed in the lighthouse. It had been weeks of them nursing him back to health, and they had formed a fast friendship during that time. Their smile flickered at the corner at the fond memories of reading to him and talking late into the night about his travels in the great expanse of ocean beyond their modest little house.

He visited them often now, so much so that they missed their quiet sunset talks and sunny afternoons on the beach as soon as he left. Being a lighthouse owner wasn’t supposed to be a very friendly, social job. Which is why they had taken it. They had been very pleased and content being alone. They preferred it; others’ company was taxing. There were so much etiquette to maintain and expectations to meet. So many silly things for people to worry about, and they were expected to worry about it too. It was stressful, and they had never found they quite fit in. No, they much preferred their own company and a good book. Drawing in their sketchbook while listening to the gulls and writing up some of their own adventures (the ones they imagined, anyway). At least, up until Roque had come along.

They turned from considering the ingredients they had lined up on the counter and these memories to find the siren in question waiting patiently for further instruction. They sighed, waving their hand.

“You know how to clean it?” They asked, a little skeptical.

His grin grew. “But of course.”

Without further delay, he hoisted the fish easily by the base of its tail, despite how much the huge thing must have weighed. They had to dodge to the side to avoid the thing smacking into their shoulder as he swung it loosely. They scoffed at him, but he just returned a teasing grin, grabbing a sharp knife and the fish scaler from the island counter behind them. They could hear him scraping and slicing, but set their mind to their own work dicing the vegetables and prepping the other aspects of their meal.

The pair fell into comfortable conversation. Roque told one of his big tales about his latest adventure; something to do with a pod of whales that had gotten stuck inland of a bay and he had shepherded them back out to the open ocean. There was probably more than a little embellishment, not that they minded. They liked the musical lilt of his voice, which always seemed so peaceful and lulling. Likely by design, they realized, but Roque had never tried to use that against them. Well, unless they counted that time he had really wanted the last piece of cake. But they could almost picture the siren guiding the whales, and their hand itched to try to put the image to paper.

Soon everything was set to cook, the fillets seasoned and set into the oven. The vegetables roasting on a spit over the open flame. The rice set to steam in its covered pot. They gave them one last gentle brush of the seasoning, a mixture of oils and spices, then sighed.

“We have some time.” They decided, wiping their hands on their apron. “Though not long.”

“Let’s go to the porch.” Roque suggested. “The sun is setting.”

They offered him a smile, and thought they saw the gentle glint of his eyes shift slightly. But it must have been their imagination that he stiffened at their movement as they led the way out to the porch off the front side of the house.

The waves crashed and resounded below them, and a sea breeze whipped up their hair as they came to stand at the edge. Leaning over their elbows on the railing to look across the long stretch of open water beyond their tiny peninsula and rocky outcropping to the horizon beyond. He was right, the sky was washed in beautiful purples and reds, trailing across the heavens like ribbons. The crests of the waves were dotted with gold from the setting rays, and they gave a deep, happy sigh.

“Moving here was one of the best choices I ever made.” They told him as he came to stand behind them at the railing. “I’ll never get tired of that view.”

They straightened slightly as his hands came down, one resting on the railing on either side of them. The motion brought them startlingly close together, and they could feel the heat of his body at their back. It wasn’t uncommon; Roque seemed to like to be close to them. He said it was because they used to be oceans apart. Why stay that way when they were together, he reasoned. They smiled slightly at the memory. At how comfortable they felt with him. They couldn’t remember ever having been this comfortable with anyone else in their life before, save for perhaps their own family. They enjoyed these moments of closeness. But this time, after a few breaths, his hand moved from the railing to the small of their back. Then slowly snaked around their middle, until his body was delicately folded against theirs.

Their heart bounced sporadically. “Roque…?”

“I am glad you moved here too.” He murmured, his lips next to their ear. His sing-song voice sent a ripple shivering down their spine, but despite the proximity of his sharp teeth to their cheek, it was not one of fear. “...I cannot imagine my life without you now.”

They let out a soft breath, the sunset before them forgotten. Surrounded by his warm body and the soft scent of ocean spray. His long hair trailed down around them, draping over their shoulders as he brought his other arm to wrap around them as well. Enveloping them in a body twice their size. At first, they hesitated, the air in their lung fluttering, and their pulse putting a hummingbird to shame. But he was softer than they would have imagined, standing this close to them. And so very warm. After a few moments, they slowly leaned back into his embrace. They heard him give a gentle sigh of contentment. Their heart leapt, and a tiny smile crept onto their lips.

“...I brought you something.”

Their smiled widened, “Yeah, the fish. I saw that.”

He chuckled lightly. “No, something else…”

They curled slightly, not willing to fully break the tender embrace of the siren but wanting to see his face. To see what he meant. Startling lavenders met their own eyes, an uncharacteristic timidness in the depths of his. Their smile became more puzzled, their heart skipping yet another beat as he unwound one arm to dig deep into the pocket of his trousers. Fishing about for a moment. Finally, he pulled out his prize, but kept his fist big balled around it. He shuffled his feet, his other hand lingering about them, and looked down at them.

“I have been… doing a lot of thinking...” He started, and they were surprised that his dark lavender eyes searched their face so fervently. Looking for something, though they couldn’t say what. They noticed the frill along his spine drooped, and his fork ears twitched. They couldn’t recall a time they had ever seen him this nervous. “And…” He sighed, then held out his hand, opening his long fingers from around his prize.

Nestled in his large palm was an oyster, larger than their own fist, its shell looking a little battered but still bright and polished. He held it out to them, shuffling his feet again.

“I thought you might like this… Humans like these kinds of things, yes?”

They took it from him, turning it over and running their fingers over the smooth surface. “It’s pretty.” They offered, feeling a little heat rise to their cheeks but unsure what to think of it.

He gave a small, crooked grin, baring the tips of those endearingly sharp teeth.

“Open it.”

It took a moment of digging their nails deep into the cracks of the shell. Then a surprising amount of effort to crack it open. But it had already been opened before it seemed. With a soft SCHWICK, it finally gave. Revealing a soft purple pearl in its center.

Their eyes widened, they had never seen a pearl so large. And the color was a beautiful deep lavender that shimmered and shone in the light. Speechless, they slowly plucked the stone from its soft home, the smell of the sea wafting up from the freshly cracked shell. They held it up, smiling. It was just like him; same color as his eyes, the same briny scent.

“It’s beautiful!” They exclaimed.

He watched them out of the corner of those eyes. “I thought you might wear it… so that everyone knows…”

They blinked, turning to look at him properly. “Knows what?”

His big hands came up, cupping around theirs, closing their fingers around the pearl in their palm. Electricity zipped under their skin, and their breath fluttered in their throat.

“... So that everyone knows you belong to me.”

They forgot how to breathe in that moment, and his hand at their back skimmed up, gently pushing their hair out of their face. His thumb grazed along their temple, sending goosebumps skittering across their skin. He hesitated for a moment, then trailed it down along their jaw, until it touched their chin.

“... I-If you want.” He added shyly, and his face flushed blue.

Their smile returned, and their hand shook a little as they lifted it up to his face. Cupping his cheek in their palm. His dark lavender eyes finally met theirs again. They glanced down at their other hand, turning the purple pearl about, admiring the way it caught the setting sunlight. Their fingers closed back around it, and they looked up. Seeing the golden rays catching in his eyes the same way. His smile creeped back to his lips, answering theirs.

“I’ve always been yours.” Their own face flushed, and he leaned down, his hair falling like a curtain around them. “Since the moment I found you on that beach…”

He pushed their hair back again, sliding his fingers deep into the curls at the base of their neck. “And my life is yours, ever since you saved it that day… In more ways than one. I could give it to no other.”

The two stayed liked that for a long moment, breathing in each others scent. The ocean crashed below them, and the sun slowly sank below the horizon. Neither wanted the moment to end.

“Come on,” They said finally, their voice breathy, “Dinner’s probably ready.”

As he followed after them into the house, grinning from ear to ear with his twisted, elongated smile, they felt as though they were walking on air. Already dreaming of the long summer days combing the beaches, and the late nights drinking hot tea up in the light room and watching the stars. Of the cold winter watching snow fall into the ocean, and laying together on the deck and listening to that honey sweet, melodic voice telling them tale after tale. Maybe they could teach them to read, and they could share their favorite passages with each other. If he was willing, they’d love to do some sketches of him. Try to capture the elegance of his scales. They imagined the delicious baking aromas and the echo of laughter in the apartment.

Because even though they really did enjoy being alone, they didn’t fancy being lonely.

....

Here’s the Second Place Winner Monster Commission by the lovely @dragoninthemoonlight, who requested a male siren x gender neutral reader. I hope this is something like what you had in mind!

I had a lot of fun writing this sappy fluff! I could see revisiting these two in their cozy little lighthouse.

If you are interested in your own Monster Match commission, DM me for prices and availability! And read some of my other work on my MasterList.

Best wishes!

#siren lover #siren x human #merman x human #gender neutral #monster x human #monster lover #monster boyfriend #siren boyfriend #citrus #monster match #monster doodles #terato #exophilia #one shot

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theladyofdeath · 4 years

Text

Rags & Riches {5}

Summary: An A Court of Thorns and Roses Fanfiction. 19th century AU. Based on the prompt sent in by @cat5313 All characters belong to SJM, I am just a fan with a plot.

Warning: Mature content strung throughout.

A/N: Oh snap.

Leave a comment to be tagged & tell me what you think! :)

It had been a week since Cassian had managed to get Nesta back to her room unseen. She had woken with a pounding headache with her dusty shoes removed and placed neatly beside her bed. She had still been in her gown, but she was tucked in snugly.

However, she did notice that she had been missing her bracelet and assumed she had lost it somewhere in her drunken endeavors. She tried not to feel too disappointed, considering who had gifted it to her, but it was her own fault.

Nonetheless, the stableboy had taken care of her, even though Nesta only remembered glimpses of their night out at the tavern.

Yet, she had purposely been avoiding him at all costs. Not that she went to the stables often.

When carriages were drawn, she waited indoors until it was pulled up front, ready to be loaded. She did not take Marigold for any rides, unless she was one hundred percent certain Edward was in the stables, not Cassian.

Perhaps it was petty, but she could not face him, not after what she had remembered.

She knew she had drunk far too much, had confessed far too much. She was even certain that, at one point, she had called him handsome.

She had called the stableboy handsome.

And he had taken care of her.

Nesta pushed the thoughts from her mind as she chose an unread book from the master library and trailed through the house.

“Miss Nesta! I have been looking everywhere for you.”

She froze, looking over her shoulder to find Alis trailing after her down the long hallway. “Yes?”

“You have received a letter, my Lady. Also, your father will be leaving this evening, after supper, for his journey north. He wishes you all to have a lovely dinner together in the main dining hall, promptly at six.”

“Thank you,” Nesta said, taking the letter from their maid.

Alis curtsied. “Good day, Miss.”

“Good day, Alis.”

The moment Alis had disappeared around the corner, Nesta broke the seal and unfolded the letter. It was in that old familiar handwriting, the same handwriting she had seen all too often.

My dearest Nesta,

I hope you do not think too poorly of me. You will always have a piece of my heart, more so than my betrothed could ever have. Could we meet soon? I surely hope so.

Nesta was fuming.

He still wanted to meet? After he had led her to believe he would propose, then introduced her to his new fiance? Ha! Absolutely not. Tomas was an even greater fool than she thought to have written her such a thing.

“You look angrier than usual.”

Nesta’s head jerked up to find her youngest sister leaning against the railing at the end of the hall, overlooking the main entrance. “I didn’t see you there.”

“Of course not,” Feyre said, simply. “You were too busy reading whatever that is in your hand.”

Nesta quickly crumpled up the paper in her hand. “It’s garbage.”

“Hmmm,” Feyre said, then brushed it aside. “Excited for our big dinner with papa before he heads up north?”

Isaiah Archeron’s trip to the northern territory was his longest business trip of the year. This year, it was crucial, as they were running low on funds. He typically stayed just under a month, leaving the girls alone with Alis.

Now that they were old enough to raise themselves.

Or something like that.

“I suppose,” Nesta said, Feyre making her way toward her. “I am certain we will be eating a pork roast since it’s papa’s favorite.”

Nesta was not a fan of pork roast.

The two went into the library and sat next to the windows where they could see Elain hovering over her garden.

“Has she been acting strange lately to you?” Feyre asked.

Nesta took a moment to sort her words. Yes, she had, but Nesta wasn’t going to mention it. “I am not certain she is fond of Lord Lucien.”

“I don’t know why,” Feyre began. “He is handsome and kind. Out of all of us, Elain had always been the most excited to marry. At least, that is how it seemed. And, I thought father had chosen the perfect match for her with Lucien.”

Nesta agreed. “She hasn’t said a word about him. I would have thought she would be bouncing off the walls, already making wedding preparations.”

Feyre chuckled, looking out the window at her sister. “Perhaps she’s just nervous. Once Lucien asks for her hand, her entire life will change.”

Nesta mumbled her agreement, but couldn’t take her eyes away from where Elain sat on her knees, plating her newest seeds to some plant Nesta had never heard of.

She wore a dress, although it was hiked up to her knees. It was the only time she was unladylike - when Elain was in her garden. Yet, she still made it all look graceful.

“All I know is out of the three of us, Elain deserves to be happy.”

Nesta looked at her youngest sister and met her eyes, their mother’s eyes, the eyes identical to her own.

And she couldn’t agree more.

~~~~~

Elain loved her garden.

It wasn’t the sunniest of days, but Elain still thought it a great day to plant her chocolate cosmos. She had been waiting for her seeds to be delivered, and once Alis had announced that they’d arrived, she couldn’t wait any longer.

Besides, she loved the peace and quiet being outside in her garden brought. It was just her, and sometimes Alis. Her sisters didn’t find the same appreciation in gardening that she did, which was fine. It was Elain’s thing.

She stood, once her planning was done, and dusted off her hands. She admired the plants that were already sprouting stems above the top layer of dirt and took a deep breath. A few flowers had even begun to bloom, and she found herself awfully proud.

Her garden allowed her to display her talents. She brought life from seeds, created something from nothing.

Once her hands were clean enough, she pulled the note she kept tucked into her dress pocket. After unfolding it, she looked at the simple signature and couldn’t stop her grin.

El,

I watched you in your garden today. You look cute with dirt smudged against your cheek. In my dreams, we live in the countryside and you have your dream garden. You grow flowers, and vegetables, and I always tell you how amazing you are at it.

Which you are. Incredible.

But you are incredible at everything. Surely you know that.

I miss you.

I love you.

I can’t wait to sneak a kiss goodnight.

The note had been pushed beneath her bedroom door in the middle of the night. She awoke at dawn to find it sitting against the wooden floorboards, and found her soul lightening at its words. As expected, they had not seen much of each other since their night together. Their wonderful, amazing night together. Elain had fallen asleep thinking about it every night since. His hands against her skin, the way his breath felt against her neck as he pushed himself inside of her. Every now and then, she caught his eye and blushed, wildly, only earning a small grin in return.

They had to be careful.

But it was so damn hard.

She loved him.

And he loved her.

So why couldn’t they be together?

Then there was Lord Lucien.

He had written to her twice within the last week and she had felt obligated to send a reply, although her heart was not in it. She felt guilty, horribly guilty. He was so kind, so deserving of a woman who found him charming and worthy.

It wasn’t that Elain did not find him charming nor worthy, it was just that someone else had already captured her heart. Then again, she knew that she could not marry Azriel. She knew that she was meant to marry Lucien, was supposed to marry Lucien, would be a great match for Lucien. And, more so, Lucien would be a great match for anyone. He was kind, gentle, handsome, wealthy.

He was everything she was supposed to want.

Everything she was told that she should have wanted.

But everything she wanted was in a man that she would never be able to have.

And at that thought, she slowly folded up the note and put it back in her dress pocket.

~~~~~

Nesta was right.

Supper’s main course had been pork roast.

The four of them ate in silence, unsure of how to fill it. It was always that way when they chose to eat as a family, which was few and far between since their mother had passed. Yet, Isaac thought it necessary, especially before he left for a period of time.

Three butlers stood against the walls, silent after serving their course, waiting in case one of them needed anything. Two of them, Feyre recognized. The young, dark haired one. Azriel, she believed, was his name. And Anthony, who had been around since Feyre was a little girl.

Then there was a third, who Feyre thought she had seen in the stables. After stirring her mashed potatoes and gravy for the tenth time, she looked to the young man and asked, “Aren’t you the stableboy?”

“Feyre,” Isaac chastised.

The man simply smiled politely and nodded his head. “Yes, Lady Feyre. Oliver was feeling unwell this afternoon, so I offered to take his spot during mealtime, just until he was feeling better.”

“That was kind of you,” Elain smiled.

Feyre and Isaac agreed, although Nesta said nothing, staring at her pork roast.

“Have you heard more from Lord Rhysand?”

It took Feyre a moment to realize that Elain had been speaking to her. She cleared her throat, “Yes. He wrote just yesterday, in fact.”

“Ah,” Isaac smiled, setting down his fork. “And what did he write?”

“That he hopes to visit soon,” Feyre said, “in which I replied that he shouldn’t.”

Isaac stared as Nesta snorted. “Feyre, that is rude. You should write him again, inviting him to call.”

“Why?” Feyre asked, completely forgetting about her food. “He is selfish and wants me as a wife because I am beautiful.”

“Conceited, much?” Nesta mumbled.

Feyre ignored her, continuing to stare at her father. “He has not even asked you for my hand so I owe him nothing.”

“He is a Lord,” Isaac shot back.

“He is insufferable,” Feyre snapped, taking a large bite of potatoes. “And he can kiss my-”

“Feyre,” Isaac scolded.

“Hand,” Feyre finished, staring at her father. “He can kiss my...hand.”

Nesta snorted, but remained quiet.

“Well, I talked to Lord Rhysand and thought he was quite lovely,” Elain chimed.

“And what of Lord Lucien?” Feyre beamed. “Have you heard from him?”

Elain’s cheeks turned pink as she hesitated. “Yes. He has written twice since the ball.”

“And?” Nesta asked, as Feyre stuffed her mouth with more mashed potatoes.

“And,” Elain began, glancing toward the butler against the wall before continuing, “he is excited to visit us here again soon.”

“Any mention of a proposal?” Feyre asked, mouth full.

“Feyre, do not talk with food in your mouth,” Isaac scolded. “You know better.”

Elain cleared her throat. “No. Not yet.”

“Shocking,” Nesta said, picking at her food without really eating it. “I would have thought he’d be outside on one knee waiting for you to accept after he charmed you at the ball.”

Elain’s cheeks reddened further, but she said nothing.

Isaac cleared his throat, having already cleared his plate. “As you girls know, I will be leaving tonight. I should not be gone any longer than four weeks. Although, if I am, it means that business is booming and I cannot leave. In that case, I will write. Edward will be joining me.”

Nesta’s eyes shot to the stableboy, then back to Isaiah. “Well, we wish you luck and look forward to your return, papa.”

Feyre and Elain chimed in their agreements before resuming their meal.

“At what time do you leave?” Nesta asked.

“When we are finished here,” Isaac proclaimed. “Alis will watch over you, of course. However, you are all women now and can look after yourselves, no doubt. I expect you to write often, especially if anything goes amiss.”

Feyre grinned, finishing off her plate. “I assure you, we will be fine.”

Indeed, they were used to being stuck at the manor. They had not left much during the last few years, since their mother’s passing.

Isaac smiled and took a look at his three daughters. “I know. I have raised you well.”

Feyre smiled, although she had to admit that her heart wasn’t in it. Everything had been off since their mother died. As she looked at her sisters, she could feel it. They were both hiding something, although she had no idea what. Nor did she care to find out, since she was hiding a secret of her own. She couldn’t wait until her father left so that she could go into town and play cards with the locals.

Once they were done, they all rose from the table and saw Isaac outside, where Edward was waiting with a packed carriage.

Isaac kissed each of his daughters goodbye before he closed himself inside and was off, nothing more than a shadow being erased by the growing distance.

~~~~~

“You have a girl, don’t you?”

Azriel froze where he sat atop his bed. “What?”

Cassian nodded to the pen and paper in his lap. “You’re writing to someone often. I assume it’s a woman.”

“Ah,” Azriel chuckled, glancing down at the ‘E’ written on his otherwise blank sheet of paper. “Yes, I suppose so.”

“A fling?” Cassian asked, kicking off his muddy boots and plopping down on his cot. “Or someone you intend to marry?”

Azriel took a moment to think about it before responding to his roommate. “She is the love of my life.”

“Congrats, mate,” Cassian said, wholeheartedly. He had grown to like Azriel within the recent weeks, since they had become roommates in the servant wing. Azriel was quiet, but he was kind and held no judgement. Cassian tried his best to be the same toward him.

“What about you?” Azriel asked. “Is there a girl for you?”

Cassian chuckled and shook his head. “No. Just my mother and sister back home. I write to them often, although i haven’t heard from them yet this week.”

“Oh?” Asked Azriel. “How old is your sister? Where do they live?”

“An hour’s ride south,” Cassian began. “I grew up in a small village there. My sister just turned seventeen. She has her eye on one of the local farmer’s sons. Although, if you ask me, he’s not worthy of her one bit.”

Azriel chuckled. “No? Why not?”

“I knew the guy, growing up,” Cassian explained. “I know too much about him, if you know what I mean. He’s been with too many women. Loves himself too much.”

“And your sister?”

“Kind,” Cassian explained. “But can take care of herself. Stubborn, just like my mother. Has very strong opinions, which many think women shouldn’t have, but I beg to differ. I grew up in a home full of strong-willed women, and wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“What about your dad?” Azriel asked, writing on his sheet of paper as he spoke.

Cassian took a moment to answer, realizing he and his roommate had never had a truly deep conversation before. “He left when my sister was young. He was a prick, horrible to my mother. I was eight when he left, but I was glad.”

Azriel nodded, but didn’t reply.

Cassian watched as Azriel wrote his letter to his lover. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Azriel laughed, short and quiet.

“Your family?”

Azriel took such a long time to reply that Cassian almost thought he hadn’t heard.

“I was abandoned as a child, adopted by an older couple. Diana and Renald. Diana was kind, but she was terrified of Renald. As was I.” Azriel talked slow, as if finding it difficult to remember. “He was an ass. He instantly knew I was different, knew of where I had…” Azriel paused, as if having trouble finding the words. “Come from. He treated me the worst. Partly because of my background, I assumed, and partly because I was the only other male. He...abused me. Often. And I ran away the moment I could, promising Diana that I would earn enough to get her free of Renald someday. That I am still working on. But I shall get there, soon. Diana writes to me often.”

Cassian cursed. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Azriel shrugged, not taking his eyes off the letter he was writing. “That’s life.”

Cassian supposed so. Although if that was life, he was certain that life was not fair. He thought to Lady Nesta, when he had escorted her the week before. She had given herself to a man who thought nothing of her, then left her completely alone in their holier than thou circle. Cassian firmly believed that life was not fair, and only they had the power to change such a thing.

“Do you enjoy working here?” Cassian asked.

Azriel took a moment to think. “I would not trade this experience for the world.”

Cassian nodded, remembering his night a week before with the Lady Nesta.

“The Archeron sisters are an interesting trio, aren’t they?”

Cassian swore Azriel tensed, but then his roommate nodded.

“Yes,” Azriel said, quietly, folding his sheet of paper into a neat square. “They are.”

~~~~~

Feyre tugged on her trousers and waistcoat before tucking her long hair into a newsboy hat. The boots in the bottom of the chest at the foot of her bed slipped on easily.

After one last look in the mirror, Feyre stuck her head out of her door to make sure the halls were clear. Once she decided it was safe, she hurried down the hall and down the main stairway. Once she had reached the floor, she tiptoed into the sitting room, toward a side window, where she could slip out and easily reach the ground, knowing to keep it cracked so that she could get back in later.

But she didn’t open it. Just as she was about to, she froze.

Just outside was Elain, hurrying away with a tall, dark haired man, hand in hand.

She was smiling.

It wasn’t until the man turned to look down at Elain that Feyre recognized him.

Before Feyre could fully process what she was seeing, she was running back up the staircase, straight to her eldest sister’s room.

~~~~~

@throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @mariamuses @a-happybird @amusicalbookworm @manoncrochanblackbeak @alifletcher2012 @candid-confetti @fandoms-everywhere-united @mis-lil-red @littlehoneyybee @abillionlittlepieces @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @awesomelena555 @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @tswaney17 @jemma-nessian-and-elriel @rhysandsrightknee @gendryaforthemasses @dayanna-hatter @thebluemartini @welcometothespeaknowworldtour @julemmaes @christiashadows @sleeping-and-books @itsme-malin @agnez312 @cat5313 @amren-courtofdreams @chemica @empress-ofbloodshed @islamonna @illyrianbeauty @sleeping-and-books @queenofxhearts @sleeping-and-books @aedionashryver-wolfofthenorth @queenofillea1 @mynewdreamwasyou @levivlio @hellolenas @burritowithfeels @that-other-pineapple @girl-who-reads-the-books @raghad-50725 @musicmaam @rowaelinforeverworld @negativenesta

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #elriel #nessian #feysand #r&r #tara writes

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modecaisnow · 4 years

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The Best Gift for the Big Guy

**This story contains themes suitable for those 18 years or older. This story contains themes of: Extreme Weight Gain, Farting, Sweating, and Size Difference. No relations in this one. HAPPY NEW YEARS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS TO ALL MY WATCHERS! (and to those who lurk ☺ )**

Malcolm, a freshman in college, comes home for the holidays hoping for some new workout gear for Christmas. Turns out the bulking powder his parents got him might not work the way it is expected to. Instead, it seems to almost double his weight with each shake! At first, Malcolm is disgusted by the weight gain, and the farting. However, with a supportive family of fitness lovers, and his two older brother's Chris (a heavy weight bodybuilder) and Dan (a fitness instructor), Malcolm might end up falling in love with his size.

Malcolm was the youngest out of three brothers. His older brothers – Chris and Dan, were both out of college and pursuing careers in Health and Fitness. Chris was a heavyweight bodybuilder, and Dan was a fitness instructor – their entire family took fitness very seriously. Malcolm always looked up to his brothers; he especially wanted to become a bodybuilder like his oldest brother, Chris. Malcolm had just finished his first semester at college, and wanted to start exercising so by the time he reached Chris’ age, he could be big like him. For Christmas, Malcolm wanted all new fitness gear: new workout clothes, protein powder, BCAAs, Pre-workout, and bulking powder to help speed up the process. On Christmas morning that was what he got. However, instead of the bulking powder, he asked for, his parents bought him a strange brand from a different country. “It was cheaper, and a worker at the GNC in town suggested it,” Malcolm’s dad said. “That’s okay! I’m sure it’ll work fine!” Malcolm said. Malcolm was never a muscular guy like his brothers. He grew up as the scrawny, geeky kinda kid. He was picked on throughout high school, and when he graduated college he found that people didn’t really seem to notice him when he went out with his friends. This, as well as his admiration for his brothers, is what really pushed him to try and beef up a bit. Right before bed, Malcolm decided to take a scoop of the bulking powder and make himself a shake. After drinking it, he quickly passed out on his full-sized mattress and dozed off into a deep slumber. He woke up the next day feeling heavy all over. His muscles felt strong, but his body was incredibly warm and wobbly. After rubbing his eyes, Malcolm finally woke up and saw that his hands had gotten fatter. Not just that, but so were his arms. Sagging, doughy ones replaced his once boney arms. He quickly threw off the blanket and got a better look at his body. His flat torso was now a landscape of rolls and blubber. His belly button was now a deep cave with a large fold of blubber sagging above it. Malcolm’s chest flopped down over the crest of his belly. He ran his fat fingers over his nipples – they were plump and sensitive. As he hoisted himself out of bed, the frame groaned and the floor creaked slightly. His thick thighs rubbed against each other as he rushed into the bathroom and hopped on the scale. Malcolm leaned forwards and looked over his belly as the scale hesitated and eventually showed the number “423” on the screen. “Holy shit, Malcolm?” Chris yelled as he walked in the bathroom wearing nothing but boxers. His blocky abs flexed as he looked at his now overweight brother. He walked around him and laughed, “Damn! How is this possible? You’re so fuckin’ fat, bro!” “I know!” Malcolm blurted. His now fat-sounding voice took him by surprise. “I’m disgusting!” “Shit…you’re ass puts mine to shame, Malcolm!” Chris put his back against Malcolm’s. Malcolm felt the individual striations of his brother’s gorilla-like back flexing against his wings of back fat. His brother bounced his bubble butt against Malcolm’s fat ass cheeks, making them ripple. Both of Malcolm’s ass cheeks were each double the size of Chris’ muscular, rump. Malcolm felt an air bubble build in his gut and it slid out his backside. A wet sounding fart spewed out and stunk up the bathroom. Chris gagged, “Shit, bro! That was a nasty one. Anyways, you go put on some clothes, I’ll go get mom.” Malcolm tried to put on some clothes, but nothing fit. Chris broke the news to his family, and they all went to Malcolm to see. They were all shocked at Malcolm’s size. Never in his family history has someone been overweight like that. At 423 pounds, Malcolm was a large boy, he wasn’t the largest in the world, but he was rather big. Luckily, his caring mother decided to take his measurements to try and get him some clothes. In the meantime, they told Malcolm to not use the bulking powder anymore. However, that was all he could think about all day. Malcolm’s mouth watered as he thought about making another shake. Chris was able to find a comically sized speedo that his friends bought him as a joke back when he was bulking. It was meant for someone really large, so he lent it to Malcolm in the meantime. The speedo was bright orange and covered up his fat ass nicely. Some mounds of gelatinous lard sagged down from the bottom of it, and part of his ass crack was exposed out the top, but it worked. Malcolm did his best to cover up his front with the speedo. It was hard to see over his large belly, so he had to just feel around to make sure his junk was concealed. From what he felt, it wasn’t like his junk was really exposed anyway given his fat thighs and sizeable belly, but he tried to hide as much of his fatpad as possible inside the speedo. The front of the speedo dug into his blubbery fatpad right down the middle instead of holding it. He sat on the couch all day with his brothers and played video games. Periodically he would shift over to let out a fart, and his brothers would tease him for the stench. Malcolm would laugh as he would rip a fart on Dan, and Dan would cough and fan the air, making him an easy target in the game. Dan kept saying that Malcolm was cheating by farting, but Malcolm would just elbow him with his flabby arm, knocking Dan over off the couch. That night, Malcolm broke out in a cold sweat. All he could think about was the bulking powder. The taste was euphoric the last time he had some, and he really wanted more. He figured it wouldn’t hurt, so Malcolm hoisted himself out of bed, and waddled off to get another shake. He passed out the minute his chubby face hit the pillow. Malcolm woke up the next day feeling twice as heavy as before. Low and behold, he was. Malcolm lifted up his arms, even more, saggy flesh hung down from them. Even with his arms lifted over his head, he still felt doughy beef flopping against his armpits. He tossed off the sheet and got a better look at himself. Well, from lying on his back, all he saw were his saggy tits that were almost suffocating him, and his massive belly several feet in the air. He rolled onto his side, and his belly sloshed off the side of the bed. His ass fat inched over the opposite end of the full-sized bed. Malcolm huffed and puffed as he rose out of it. The bed frame groaned and sagged painfully. His massive body now flattened the mattress itself. Malcolm panted as he widened his stance and he shifted all of his mass. His belly flopped far over his lap, all the way to his knees. His fat thighs forced his legs to spread apart, and even as far apart as they could go, the folds on the insides of his thighs still swallowed his crotch in deep mounds and warm blubber. Eventually, with a few huffs and puffs, Malcolm made it onto his fat feet. The wooden floor beneath his feet sank downwards and groaned painfully as he waddled out of his room, squeezing out of his door, and into the bathroom. He stepped on the scaled and looked down. No matter how much he tried to suck in his flabby gut or look past it – Malcolm could not see what the number said. He just relaxed his blubbery belly, and let it all hang down. His belly was incredibly heavy, pulling down on him in the front. It sagged down towards his knees, flopping over most of his thighs. When he waddled, his thighs would not only need to swing around each other, but they needed to push against the heavy, flesh skirt that was his belly. Malcolm sighed, as he couldn’t see what the scale said. As he shifted his mass the scale let out a loud series of beeping sounds before snapping in half from his weight. Malcolm’s body ripped and wobbled as his fat feet slammed onto the floor. Malcolm felt a huge pain arise in the pit of his belly. He quickly applied pressure on it, by pushing down with his fat palms. Malcolm then moaned as a long, fog-horn fart belted out from behind him. The bathroom felt slightly warmer as a massive blast of gas polluted the bathroom air. His ass cheeks rippled like pond water as the humid scent spewed out. “Jesus Christ! What’s that smell?” Chris grunted as he waltzed into the bathroom. Chris was wearing nothing but a tight, blue poser. His bubble butt was stretching the back of it. He rubbed his eyes then got a good look of Malcolm, “Holy fuckin’ shit, bro! It happened again?” “Yeah!” Malcolm’s voice felt heavy and thick. It took a lot of energy to continue talking, “I don’t know why!” “It must be that bulking powder. Did you have any more last night?” Malcolm thought to himself. He was starting to like being massively heavy. He was now much larger than both his brothers combined. Malcolm figured he would have to lie, or else his family would throw away the bulking powder if they knew he was still making shakes with it. Malcolm panted, “No…no I didn’t drink any, Chris…” “Hmmm…Well, let’s go tell mom so we can get you some more clothes, okay?” Malcolm agreed. Chris helped guide him out of the bathroom and down the stairs. By the time Malcolm made it downstairs, his face was beat red and was sweating profusely. He panted and flopped down onto the tiny couch. Malcolm easily took up half of the 4-person seater. The cushions were squashed downward and the frame sank. His mom walked in and gasped at the sight of Malcolm’s doughy, naked rolls of blubber. He leaned to the side and ripped a massive fart. His entire body rippled as the blast of air spewed out from behind him. For the entire day, his mother figured out what size clothes he would need by measuring Malcolm. They also contacted a doctor to come to check up on him tomorrow morning. Throughout the rest of the day Malcolm consumed more foods than they could cook, his brother Dan made trips to Malcolm’s favorite fast food joints, and Chris played video games with him all day. Malcolm continued to pull the same tricks he did yesterday by farting on his brother to take his attention away from the screen. Chris would just slap Malcolm’s flabby ass shelf and push back playfully. Being a heavyweight bodybuilder, Chris was quite strong. However, Malcolm, being so substantial and viscous, wasn’t even moved by his brother’s retaliation. His body just rippled and wobbled. The feeling of Chris’ hands sinking deep into his lard felt kinda nice to Malcolm. He loved being so large. Taking up most of the space on the couch felt really euphoric. He wondered how it would be if he got even bigger. That night, Malcolm made himself another shake, but this time he added two scoops of the bulking powder. Right as his flabby body hit the sunken mattress, he passed out. The next morning, it was very hard for Malcolm to lift his hands up to reach his eyes. In fact, his entire face felt heavier. As his eyes opened his chubby facial cheeks blocked the bottom part of his view. He looked down at his flabby hands, which now looked almost unrecognizable. Malcolm’s arms were incredibly heavy. His forearms were now the same size that his massive, flabby upper arms were yesterday. Malcolm’s chest rose and fell with each laborious breath. The floor groaned as he shifted his gigantic mass around. Massive, undulating waves rocked through his body with each subtle movement. Eventually, with some maneuvering, he made it into a sitting position. Malcolm gasped at the sight of his gigantic rolls and folds of doughy flesh. His entire body looked like a gelatinous, tan mountain. He could feel the crushed mattress and bed frame somewhere deep under his gigantic ass cheeks, which spilled out behind and around him by several feet. His belly was now a series of folds piled upon one another with two, sagging tits flopping down the sides. Malcolm could no longer see his fat thighs; he could feel them deep under his massive belly, which spilled around and over them, spilling onto the floor. However, he could feel that his thighs were now covered in gelatinous rolls much like the rest of him. With a massive heave and all his strength, Malcolm rose up onto his fat feet. The ground beneath him groaned painfully and the floorboards popped and cracked. He stomped his way towards his door; his wide body knocked pictures off his walls and pushed his desk and dresser away. The entire room trembled with each movement. As he stood in front of the door, Malcolm noticed it was not just impossibly narrow, but also somewhat shorter than him. He had to sink his already flabby head down into his shoulder blubber. Malcolm then reached his arms through and went through at an angle. His belly quickly spilled out of the doorway, but then mounds of fleshy dough were caught on the sides of the entryway in his bedroom. Malcolm pushed harder and harder. More of his belly oozed out into the hallway along the floor. His ass cheeks rose up higher and higher as he slowly eased his way through the doorframe. The gelatinous consistency of the blubber made it simpler to squeeze through the doorway, but it was still too much flab to get through. The frame cracked and chunks of the wall on both sides collapsed as he shoved in harder. Malcolm ripped a massive fart before sliding out of the hole in the wall. FFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHHHRRRRRRTTTTT His ass cheeks clapped together as a massive blast of hot air spewed out. Malcolm moaned as his entire body jiggled and rippled from the force of the blast. The walls around him all shook violently from the deafening fart. Out of his room came Chris, covering his ears. “Earthquake!” Chris yelled as he stood in the doorway. He quickly gagged and realized what was actually happening. “Oh… my… god!” The family all gathered around as Malcolm’s last farts bubbled out of his blubbery ass crack. Chris and Dan teased him a bit and compared their toned rumps to his massive one. Chris even brushed his tight butt against Malcolm’s and it sank deep into the blubbery flesh. They helped Malcolm down the stairs, which was difficult given his massive belly was sliding along the ground, and his ass cheeks were flopping against the stairs behind him. Eventually, they guided him into the living room, where he parked his gigantic ass down on the couch. Malcolm immediately farted again as his ass cheeks spilled out over the armrests on both sides of the couch. FFFFFFUUUUUURRRRRRHHHHHHTTTTTTT “Nice one, big guy!” Chris said as he elbowed one of Malcolm’s many rolls. The other members of his family all gagged and coughed. “Thanks…I’m getting hungry!” Malcolm grunted. His family quickly went to work on feeding the gelatinous mound of flesh taking up a considerable amount of space in their living room. He continued to fart and rub his doughy flesh, or what parts of it he could reach, as they all continued to gather food for him. Dan tried to get Malcolm to play video games with him, but Malcolm couldn’t quite get his hands close enough together for the controller. Not that the controller even lasted long in his massive, blubbery fingers – it was crushed to pieces almost immediately. Malcolm just laughed it off. His brothers eventually played video games together and Malcolm would just watch. They sat on the ground leaning against the base of his belly. Malcolm would shift to his right or left, making his flab slosh heavily against one side of the couch, so he could fart and let the air escape from deep under his flab. Some of the rancid odors bubbled out from under his belly after being trapped in some of his underbelly lumps. Dan and Chris gagged as the potent fumes polluted the air around them. Soon, the entire house was stained with Malcolm’s rank farts. By the time the doctor came, Malcolm’s body was covered in sweat. The doctor examined every aspect of Malcolm possible and took skin, blood, and sweat samples to run some tests. The doctor also took a sample of the bulking powder. He told Malcolm that the results could take some time, and suggested staying away from any more bulking powder until they find out what caused the sudden weight gain. The doctor floated the idea of scanning Malcolm’s brain to see if there was a pituitary tumor. However, the thought of not only getting the giant blob of doughy flesh out of the house but also squeezing him into a machine made it impossible. The doctor left leaving everyone in the family optimistic. Malcolm, on the other hand, was optimistic about the lifestyle he was going to start leading. Malcolm continued to eat all day long, requesting more and more food. His rolls and folds undulated in powerful waves with every subtle movement. Sometimes the ripples would collide and slap together loudly. He leaned back on the couch and the frame of it gave out one last pop before snapping into pieces. The massive blob of lard flopped to the ground. The entire house shook viciously. Malcolm’s rolls spilled out farther around him, flopping against the back wall and knocking over his brothers who were leaning against his belly. “Mmmpph… my bad” was all Malcolm said. ---EPILOGUE--- Malcolm now lives in the family’s garage. There, he had a huge entrance and exit for when they back up the truck to take him places. It was also well ventilated so he did not need to hold back farts, not that he ever did. The entrance to the house from the garage was also expanded so that Malcolm could still waddle in and spend dinner with the family. Not that he could sit at the table, but he could sit near enough so his belly sloshed against it. Usually, he sat in the living room and for dinner, he would wobble his gelatinous rolls to face the dining room. Malcolm ended up getting clothes that could fit him. He wore a massive, jockstrap, the straps of which squeezed his ass cheeks so much that they could not be seen from all the lard. On top of that, he wore large sweatpants and a massive t-shirt. Both of which were stained with sweat and food grease. Sweat stains had completely soaked the deep ass crack on his sweatpants. Every fold of blubber produced so much heat and sweat that they too stained his clothing. Malcolm spends his days now eating from his trough and farting non-stop. The gas had become so bad, that his brothers had to place a tube in his ass crack to displace some of the farts outside. From the outside, it looked like a smokestack for a factory, but instead of producing smoke it produced a rancid, dark green haze. His brothers also kept him fed the entire day. When his brothers stopped hearing him grunting and snorting from inside the garage, they would come in and dump wheelbarrows full of fattening slop for their brother to eat. Malcolm would then return to shoving his face deep into the trough, letting his folds and rolls spill out all over the cracking, cold cement floor of the garage. His body rocked back and forth as he grunted and oinked loudly while he ate. The force of his blubber’s powerful undulations caused the entire garage to tremble. The life Malcolm started to live was not what he expected. He thought that he would be able to get people’s attention by becoming a large, muscular bodybuilder. Someone that people looked up to, and did not dare mess with. However, he found that gaining mounds of lard had the same results, but it was much easier – no pain, but plenty of gain. Malcolm loved his massive size and was excited for his friends in college to see what he looks like.

#maleweightgain #weightgain #weight gain fiction #extrememaleweightgain

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

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chapter twenty five: house of mirrors

Sam and Joey stood side by side to each other as they watched Ronnie and his band go forth on that stage. His voice, much like Joey's, soared high and out into the black sky overhead. He really was like a wizard, a man who crafted potions for the world of metal and saved them for the only special ones of the grand scheme of things. She touched the pendant upon her chest and she closed her eyes and she took in the sounds before her. Testament had gone off into the trees behind them, but she was more focused on the things going on before her and next to her.

She was at a heavy metal show that took place in front of a castle, and she stood next to Joey all the while.

That castle to the right, right behind the stage all the while. If only there was a way inside of there.

The castle needed a moat of sorts, and a way down to the water from the front door as well. A moat and a stream of its own so she and Joey could go swimming about in there together. She pictured herself laying on her back down by the water's edge as Joey took to it for himself. They could have their own palace, their own place together in those woods and they would have no one else who could bother them because she was queen and he had made himself her king.

She envisioned herself in a big ballroom gown and Joey himself in the fanciest of tuxedos. He stood there at the altar with his hands cupped before him, and their rings right inside of his palms. She gave her hair a toss back and she realized that it had been styled up into a snug beehive upon the crown of her head. She glanced down at the white lace gloves upon her hands and she knew that she had been given the ultimate wedding for herself as well as Joey. He stood there before her, with his inky black curls nicely combed back from the sides of his face, and his bangs tufted up from his forehead. His brown eyes as deep and rich as the earth, as the deadly nightshade that brought him forth onto the earth itself.

Deadly nightshade. Born out of the plant on the Iroquois grounds.

He lifted the black and white lace veil from her face and he showed her a little smile.

He was in love with her. He was in love with her and now they were about to make it official between the two of them.

She lifted the bouquet of flowers before her: a cluster of beautiful pearly white and deep black carnations the size of her fist. White and black. She turned her head and there was Alex, there in the row before her with his black hair nicely combed and dangled down over his shoulders, and his arms folded across his chest. He bowed his head a bit and he gazed down to the cold stone floor beneath him.

“Please don't unwrite me,” he begged to her in a small voice: a small enough voice to be heard despite the noise of the crowd. Sam opened her mouth to say something back to him, but Alex stood up and he walked out of there with a pained look on his boyish face.

“Alex—” she called after him. “Alex!”

He paid no attention to her. He just kept on walking with that inky black hair streamed behind him.

Sam returned to Joey and the rings cradled in his hands. Those dark lips in that warm little smile. He clinched the barren of the two and then took her hand with his free one: he slid on the diamond ring for her and she swallowed.

“You may now kiss the bride,” said the priest next to them. Joey leaned forward and kissed her lips, which thus sealed their fate together. He led her back down the steps, past her parents and everyone else in the audience. She hadn't even met his own parents at that moment, but she strode past them as they welcomed her into the family.

She was a Belladonna now. A new sprout of deadly nightshade for all the world to see for themselves. Misty eyed and barefoot all the while, and without a shred of irony either. Her whole life now revolved around him.

And their children.

Their children.

She swore that Joey didn't want children. But by some black magic, she found herself big and heavy with their spawn. The throes of giving birth. The rite of passage into being a mother. All the blood, all the agony, all the tearing flesh, all the pain; the entire transformation, all for bringing a new life into the world. A new series of lives. She couldn't imagine it, or she could but it ached her to imagine it. She wished to think about the wedding again, but it was too late at that point.

Then there came holding onto the pile of jaded flesh, what was left of her body. Joey not wanting to touch it or give her what she wanted anymore; and his long black curls shorn away into something that she didn't want to imagine. His venom gone. His inability to go out with Anthrax again, just like what happened to Louie.

Exactly what happened to Louie.

“You've got red eyes all the time now,” Joey would say to her all the time now. “All that's happened to you, Sam—I wish I could do something.” She watched him walk out of that door again, and for all she knew he was going to visit Zelda, or worse: her mother. It made no sense.

“Huh?” She shook her head and she realized she had returned to the stage next to Ronnie and his band. Joey was still right next to her, but that time he had a concerned look on his face.

“D'you hear what I said?” he asked her.

“I'm afraid not,” she confessed.

“I said you're gonna haveta take the red eye in a bit,” he told her. “Red eye back to the States 'cause we leave, too.”

“Oh. Oh!”

“Ronnie's gonna do 'Man on the Silver Mountain' here and then I'll walk ya back to the hotel.”

The look of concern turned back into that lopsided little smile on his round little face. She brought her attention back to the stage, where Ronnie stood there before his microphone stand and his arms held out on either side of him as if he served as Jesus on a cross. His long dark curls at the back of his head dangled down like the mane of the biggest boldest noble horse in existence. His white leather jacket shone under the bright rainbow colored lights over them.

Joey put his arm around her and held her close to his body as if she was in fact his girlfriend for real at that point. Sam kept her eye on Ronnie while he crooned out to the crowd before him. It was hard to imagine Bon Jovi following up with this big powerful voice. She then realized where Joey pulled a great deal of inspiration from, even if he never admitted it to her right away.

The rainbow colors all around them. The darkness beyond. She turned to him with her eyebrows raised.

“I want to paint you for real now,” she begged to him over the sound barrier that formed all around them.

“On a better canvas, I assume?” he teased her.

“Of course!”

Ronnie put his arms up and let out the strongest note in the form of the loudest howl she had ever heard a singer do before. Joey even gaped at him.

“Wow!” Dan exclaimed from right behind them. Ronnie then stood back and jumped in the air in the form of a high karate kick. The man really was a wizard.

Sam raised her arms and clapped hard for him.

“Thank you, England!” he declared. “Have a good night and don't stay up too late—”

He bowed back into the shadows on the other side of the stage; Sam felt something hold onto her arm.

“C'mon, Sam I am—”

She followed Joey past Frank, Dan, and Charlie into the darkness once again, back towards the tent and the trees.

“You got your guitar with you?” she asked him once the whirring in her ears started to subside away.

“It's back at the room,” he assured her once they cleared the tent. That little pathway amongst the trees. They were literally right there by the road: she thought of Alex as he saw them making out there under the trees. She wanted to explain to him, but she also wanted to see him again.

But there were so many things she wanted to do with Joey as well.

“There's of course, the real thing I wanna do with you,” she added as he moved a tree branch out of the way for her.

“What's that?” He lingered closer to her, such that he almost nudged her right off of the pathway.

“And I hope Bel can show me a thing or two about it this upcoming quarter here—glass.”

“Glass? You wanna blow me into glass?” That coaxed a laugh out of her but then she straightened herself out.

“No, I just think of those stained glass windows Marla and I saw on the first day of school—these big stained glass windows in the front wing of the school. I just pictured myself making a window in your likeness, kind of like how I made that one drawing of you in order for me to get into school.”

“Oh, I see. You wanna like translate it over into the realm of stained glass.”

“Exactly!”

“Hmmm...”

They reached the street once again and they stood there with a bunch of dead leaves strewn out on the sidewalk before them. The black sky hung high over their heads like a velvety tapestry.

“It might definitely have to be sump'n to set aside for a weekend,” Joey confessed in a low voice.

“Yeah, and you have to got to sit still for me, too,” Sam insisted.

“Well—look at it this way. You've already seen me nude twice—and you've had your lips locked onto me, too. You've seen me as I am already. It's just a matter of doing it for a simple li'l sketch. I assume that's what you do.”

“Just makes sense. I mean, Belinda works on glass projects all the time and she constantly staggers them, too. They're just time consuming for her.”

They lingered there on the sidewalk for a few seconds more before Sam moved in closer to him. Despite having smoked a little bit from a joint, despite having performed before thousands of people, despite having made out with her in the trees, and despite standing there on the side of the stage for Ronnie, he still smelled excellent. Fresh out of the shower and fresh with a spritz of cologne. Marla and Belinda themselves were back there somewhere to see Bon Jovi but she fixed more on the man on the silver mountain right there next to her. That daydream was still so fresh in her mind, and all it took was the view of the castle right behind the stage.

“So—you don't want kids,” she muttered to him.

“Nah.” He froze right in his tracks. “Why? Do you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno, to be honest.”

“Well, understand, you're not my girlfriend.”

“What if I was, though?” she asked him, to which he knitted his eyebrows together.

“What if you were?”

“If I was your girlfriend, would you want kids with me?”

He nibbled on his bottom lip at that. “And why are you asking me this?”

“Well, 'cause Aurora had that little bit of a pregnancy scare and well—if I'm honest, I'm just curious about it now.”

“Oh, I see, kind of a, uh—” He cleared his throat. “—an aware of yourself kind of thing.”

“Exactly, right! Becoming more aware of my own body. So, if I was your girlfriend, would you want kids with me?”

He nibbled on his bottom lip again, but he never said anything back to that.

Instead, he strode forward to the other side of the street, and those black curls streamed behind his head. Sam followed right behind him; she clutched onto the bracelet he had given her before the show. She looked over to the front window of the hotel: inside there, Alex had taken his seat on a stool and sprawled a book across the table before him. Joey held the door for her as she recalled what had happened in the trees before Ronnie's set.

“Joey, I'll meet you back at the room,” she told him. “I gotta do something real quick.”

“Bring back ice, too?” he asked her, still with that crooked grin on his face.

“Of course!”

He then walked on to the corridor, towards his room. Sam turned back to Alex, who looked as though he had fallen asleep sitting up, but then he raised his gaze in her direction. Still serious and with a bit of pain in his eyes. She walked on over to him and he raised his head a little bit to her.

“Are you okay?” she asked him in a soft voice.

“Yeah, I just—I wasn't really expecting to see you with Joey in the trees,” he confessed to her in a near whisper even though there was no one else in there.

“It's okay—I just—kind of sort of lost a bet.”

“You lost a bet?” he chuckled.

“Yeah. It's—It's kind of a long story.” She knew what he meant by it, but she couldn't help but feel that she had crossed a line. He and Joey didn't like each other, and it was all the more obvious now with her having softened things with Alex. There had to be something to rectify it more.

“What'cha readin'?”

“Do you know the story of the Wandering Jew?” he asked her. “Or—as it's often referred to as—the Flying Dutchman?”

“It's a—It's a ship, isn't it?”

“The Flying Dutchman is. The Wandering Jew is a man—banished to walk the earth for eternity. Or at least Jesus comes down during the Second Coming, I don't really know the full details if I'm perfectly honest. But the Flying Dutchman is the same story, but with a ghost ship instead. It's what I'm reading about here, and I mention this because sometimes I feel like I'm actually the Wandering Jew. The little Jew boy meant to walk the earth for eternity.”

“Why's that?” she asked him. He sighed through his nose and he bowed his head. He never replied to that, but she had a feeling that she had hit a nerve with him at some point during that weekend. She glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was eavesdropping on them. So much left unsaid between the two of them, and his seeing Joey in the trees there with her only left even more unsaid.

She then cleared her throat before she said anything more to him.

“So—what'd you think of those pen and ink drawings that Charlie had mentioned to you?”

“Oh, those were cool,” he replied with a nod of his head; he then closed that book and gave his jet black a little toss back. “Do you know the artist at all?”

She shook her head. On one hand, she couldn't hardly believe that she had just lied to Alex not once, but twice. But then again, she had her own problems to deal with, especially with her getting back to Joey soon enough. He squinted his eyes at her as if he knew something that she didn't.

“Well, I hope you can find the artist soon because I kind of want to see more from that person now,” he confessed to her.

“I hope I can, too,” she assured him. He kept his eyes fixed on her for what felt like more than a minute.

She thought back to that drawing in her journal, the one of the mysterious man from her dreams and the streak in his hair. Those deep eyes had something more to them, something more that he wasn't telling her.

“Listen. About Joey—” But then he raised a hand to her and he shook his head.

“It's alright,” he assured her in a low voice. “Sometimes things just happen.” And yet she could make out the absolute pain in that boy's eyes, that sad disappointed look in those deep eyes. Her own eyes looked up to that little plume of gray over his brow, once a little sliver of a pearl now a plume: she never realized as to how feathery his hair was, feathery and light like the wisps that followed the Wandering Jew everywhere he went.

She thought about that daydream she had had before, and the look of pain on his face there.

“Are you guys gonna be following them around more on their tour of Europe?” she asked him, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I don't really know, to be perfectly honest,” he confessed. “I might just take the red eye home, or the next flight tomorrow morning, I dunno. I don't know what's going on. I heard Chuck and Eric talking about it, but who knows really.”

He ran his fingers through his dark hair and that streak glimmered a bit all the while. He then scooped up the book and stood to his feet, and towered before her all the while.

“So—keep an eye out for that live album?” she recalled, and he nodded his head.

“Yeah.”

But her attempt was useless. Even though the two of them didn't really know each other, Sam could see it in his eyes and the way in which he walked back to the other side of the hotel. It was as if she had betrayed a good friend. He stopped in the middle of the floor at one point so he could hitch up those jeans but Sam knew what he was really doing. He kept on walking to the other wing of the hotel until he disappeared behind the corner.

Sam turned her attention back to her side of the hotel, where Joey awaited her and where she had gather her things so she, Marla, and Belinda could head on back to New York City. She had no idea what Aurora and Emile planned to do for themselves, but as she gathered a small cup of ice for Joey, she realized that she didn't really care, either. She cared more about Alex than she did them, and Aurora was her best friend to boot. But she and Emile had gotten drunk and did the very thing that she wanted Joey to stop doing, and as a result, they missed that show back there. They missed Joey's grand performance on the guitar and Anthrax's new chapter as a quartet, and up to that point, Aurora had been faithful in going to work and going to shows with Sam and Marla.

Like she had skated by without having to do anything there in England. The very thing Alex disliked about Joey, as if he himself had skirted by as well.

It was all so round about and like such a house of mirrors that by the time she arrived back at her room, and there was Joey there on the edge of the bed with no shirt on, that she almost burst out laughing at him.

He glanced back at her with a flick of his hair and that lopsided grin plastered across his face as if it had genuinely became a part of his make up.

“The next time we get together, we oughtta go long,” he told her as she shut the door behind her. Sam sauntered over to him and handed him the cup of ice.

“We'll head on back to my parents' house soon enough,” she assured him.

“I do hope so. I really wanna be at your folks' place again. Just so long as your mom doesn't hit on me again.”

“I'll get to the bottom of that,” she told him. “Positive.”

“Just how I'll get to the bottom of your bottom?”

She scoffed and then rolled her eyes at him.

“You really wanna go there?” she demanded. “Right now?”

“While we still have time. Marla and Belinda aren't back yet, either.”

“True.”

“So, c'mon.” He beckoned her. “Let's finish what we started in the woods.”

“Finish the wood in the woods?”

“See the forest for the trees and see the world as you please.” He then snapped his fingers. “Ooh, that's cool. Write that down when you're on the plane.”

He leaned back onto the bed with the cup of ice right next to him. She hovered right above him and her hair dangled right over his face.

“C'mon, give it to me,” he begged her.

“Just so long as I don't have to call you 'daddy' like Frankie does.”

“Nah—I'd have to wear that fucking puffy as hell shirt that he's got.”

“Puffy as hell shirt? How exactly is hell puffy?”

“It'll be puffy as your snatch is about to be—” He showed her his tongue as he undid his jeans for her. “—I—kind of need a little bit below the equator if ya don't mind.”

She hesitated as it stood there right underneath her. She had touched Cliff before, and she had gone a little bit there for Joey, but something didn't really add up to her. She just looked on at it as if it was part of his body: it was part of his body, nothing more. But he wanted it, and he wanted it from her in particular, to finish what they had started back there.

Thus she bowed forward and put her lips down. Salty. Such that it made her throat dry and parched, more so than the midori sour she and Marla had had the two days before. But he smiled and groaned in his throat at the feeling. She held onto his hips to better steady himself.

“Can ya feel it?” he croaked.

“Yes—” She ran her tongue along the taut skin, but she wasn't feeling much of anything on her end. If anything, she was thinking about the encounter she had had with Cliff in the subway. They were in the dark and yet she put her hand down his jeans to feel him. Maybe it was the darkness and maybe it was the fact that she had done it to Cliff, but the empty feeling only persisted once she closed her eyes. For a second, she swore she was back with him again, especially since Joey's heavy breathing only added to it.

“Cliff—” she whispered under her breath.

“Huh?” Joey breathed back to her.

“Joey—” she whispered back to him, and she returned her lips onto his tight skin once again. He gasped at the sensation, and then she sank her teeth down. He grunted at that feeling.

“You don't like that?” she asked him in a broken voice, and he shook his head.

“Okay—but you want to know something, though?”

“What's that?” He propped himself up on his elbows for a better look at her.

“I can so get used to this,” she whispered to him.

“You wanna know sump'n?” he whispered back to her, complete with that slithering tongue about the edges of his teeth.

“What's that?”

“I can, too.”

She moved herself down onto her forearms so she lay right next to his hip.

“What're you saying?”

“Well, you're blowing me right now,” he pointed out. “Blowing me after you suggested a bit of glass on your part. I've become a part of your world now, Sam. I really do.”

“It's funny I—I feel like I'm part of your world now,” she confessed.

“Would you be my girlfriend?” he asked her in a small voice.

“Well, I'm here now, aren't I?”

He clicked his tongue. “Yeah.”

“Then the answer is 'yes', Joey," she replied without hesitation; suddenly Alex's reaction to their being in the woods meant nothing. "I'll be your girlfriend. Would you like something else?”

He looked down at himself, and that lopsided grin turned into a thoughtful little smile.

“Nah, I think I'm good, to be honest. For now, anyways. I've got a tour to do the next bunch'a dates.”

“And I start school soon.”

“And you start school again soon, right.”

“Sam?” Marla called from down the hall.

“Time to head on back home, babe.” Joey flashed her a wink at that.

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imagine-loki · 4 years

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Caught in his web, Chapter 41

TITLE: Caught in his web CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 41 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki is a crime lord, a very dangerous man in the city. He is owed money, but the man is unable to pay Loki back, so Loki takes his daughter as payment instead. RATING: M