#I handmade all the pins as well

[emerald-ocelot]

ITS FINALLY DONE

[thedroneranger]

Dine Out

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Synopsis: Mrs. Seresin packs a special surprise for Jake's first day as Lieutenant Commander.

Notes: Part of the To-do List collection.

Warnings: 18+ only; smut.

Word count: 2.6k.

Busy making sure all his pins were absolutely straight, he didn’t notice as she snuck up behind him. She felt his shoulders drop as she wrapped her arms around his waist and forced herself underneath his arm. 

That radiant smile appeared as he accepted her by his side. “Good morning.” Her voice was still thick with sleep, which made Jake immediately picture her wrapped in their sheets. 

“Mornin’, baby.” He kissed the top of her head and she leaned into his side. She watched him in the mirror. It was a rare time she got to see his candid expression as he looked at her and paid no attention to the mirror. She then looked up at him and they exchanged smiles. He pressed a kiss to her lips.

She slipped out from under his arm, breaking the lip-lock, and stood between him and the mirror. She inspected his uniform, making sure it was wrinkle free, pins straight, collar flat.

Jake took a deep breath, looking past her into the mirror. She returned to his side and also gazed in the mirror. “I didn’t think a couple extra pins could make you hotter.” She kissed his bicep as she leaned into his arm.  

He cracked a smile and leaned down. “That’s called a rank kink, honey,” he explained before again pressing his lips to hers. She gripped his arm tighter so he couldn’t break the kiss. Jake melted into her but they both pulled away, suddenly realizing they had no idea of the time. 

“I’m going to make your lunch. Can’t have you late for your first day.” She untangled herself and let her hand trail down his arm to his palm. She squeezed it before stepping away. Jake sighed longingly as he watched the bottoms of her ass cheeks jiggle as she walked. 

She was wearing one of her own crewneck t-shirts, which wasn’t quite long enough to cover her backside. He liked the view but also liked when she wore his shirts. They were oversized, so she didn’t bother with underwear. Given her shirt also didn’t cover her crotch, she was wearing a lacy thong—just enough fabric to be considered underwear. 

By the time Jake came downstairs, his lunch and coffee were waiting on the counter, and she’d ventured into the laundry room to fold clothes. Jake peeked around the counter to find her softly singing along to the playlist she selected while she folded his shirts. She also had changed into workout gear, ready to hit the gym after Jake left. 

Jake’s fingers grazed her hip as he stood behind her. She turned her head to meet his lips as he pressed his front to her back. “Mhmm, have a good day,” she said. 

“You, too.” He gave her one more kiss before separating from her. She playfully snapped the shirt she was about to fold, striking his ass. She knew it stung—the snap was loud and he stopped in his tracks. Her lip was between her teeth and mischief in her eyes as he turned to meet her gaze with feigned annoyance. 

“Bye!” She quickly became interested in the creases as she folded the shirt.

Day 1 was going well. Jake led his first briefing, which went without a hitch. He was glad his squadron respected him enough not to heckle him, especially on his first day as a lieutenant commander. 

He was glad when lunchtime came so he could take 30 minutes to joke around with the squad. Jake definitely needed to ease into his new leadership role. Going from a co-worker to a superior would be an adjustment that took time. 

Jake already knew his lunch was leftover carbonara. His mouth watered as he thought about the handmade pasta he was about to eat. Unzipping his lunch bag, he froze. Jake blinked and closed the lid. After a few seconds, he reopened it. His eyes did not deceive him. Atop the Tupperware lie the lacy panties Mrs. Seresin was wearing this morning.

He didn’t dare take them out. In slight duress, he almost missed the note. He plucked it out of the bag to read it. 

Your office. Noon. 

Shit. It was 12:05. Jake damn near fell out of his seat as he gathered his things and sprinted walked with purpose to his office. When he reached the door, he took a minute to collect himself. With a deep breath, he twisted the knob and slipped inside. 

Jake was met with red bottoms kicked up on the corner of his desk. Mrs. Seresin had made herself at home, reading the contents of one of the folders neatly stacked beside the blotter. She dropped it to look at him. He locked the door as they stared at each other. 

“Missing something?” Her panties dangled from his finger. A smile graced her lips as she dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the oak desktop. 

Jake was a simple man, and his eyes sank to the neckline of her shirt. He couldn’t see the entire outfit, but he knew exactly which one she was wearing. One of his favorites, a pencil skirt with a structured button-down. 

The first time he saw her in this outfit, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Since then, she’d worn it a handful of times to fulfill Jake’s librarian fantasies.

“I thought you might want a treat for lunch on your first day,” she replied. Eyes still on Jake, she pushed herself out of his chair and walked around the desk. She leaned against the front edge and began to undo the rest of the buttons on her blouse. “Lieutenant Commander.”

Fuck, his new title sounded even better when it came out of her mouth. Jake’s cock twitched. He began to walk toward her. She stood to her full height as she pulled the tails of her shirt from her high-waisted skirt. Even in heels, their height difference required her to tilt her head back to meet Jake’s gaze.

“Sometimes I worry these encounters are just really, really vivid dreams.” The hint of his accent, always thicker when he’s horny, sent shivers down her spine. Jake leaned down and pressed a kiss to the hinge of her jaw, and then the side of her neck. She shimmied her shirt to her elbows to expose her shoulders. Jake took advantage of the visible skin, kissing her shoulder caps. 

He dropped her panties beside her on the desk. “Turn around.” Jake’s voice was soft yet stern. He had pulled away just enough that they could exchange glances as she made a show of facing the desk. Jake took her shirt as though he were helping her out of a jacket and tossed it onto his desk chair. 

As she planted her palms on the hardwood, she was sure to shift her hips so her backside grazed Jake’s crotch. He pressed his full body against her as he leaned over top of her. He placed a kiss to her hairline, followed by another on her temple. 

Meanwhile, his hands traveled down her sides and along her hips. Finally, his fingers came to the zipper on the side of her skirt. Slowly, he pulled it as he continued to pepper her with kisses. 

Mrs. Seresin didn’t realize she had been holding her breath. A gasp escaped her when Jake yanked the fabric and it pooled around her ankles. She felt the smirk on Jake’s lips as he kissed her jaw one more time. 

She bit her lip in anticipation as Jake sank to his knees behind her. He smirked when her tiny “good girl” tattoo appeared. His thumb swiped over it as he knelt down. He tapped each of her ankles for her to lift her feet so he could completely discard her skirt. 

“Wider,” he directed. She compiled, sliding her feet further apart. Softly, he wrapped his hands around her calves and slid them up the backs of her legs to her ass. She bit back moans as Jake left wet kisses along the same path.

She whimpered as his index finger skimmed between her folds. “Awe, baby,” he cooed. “You’re so wet for your Lieutenant Commander,” he said. Jake ran his fingers along each lip, spreading her arousal. Then he quickly swiped a digit from her clit to her entrance. She shuttered, her knees giving slightly. Jake smirked. 

“I don’t want to rush you, but lunchtime is going to be done by the time you dive in,” she said over her shoulder. 

An open palm met her ass cheek. She bit her lip and dipped her head to remain silent. “Lunch ends when I say it does.” Mrs. Seresin felt the heat in her low belly build just from the tone of his voice.

Jake lovingly bit the round of her ass before he sank his face between her folds. He laved her clit and dipped his tongue into her. She gasped and shifted to her elbows, allowing him better access.

Spreading her and holding her open with the pads of his thumbs, Jake continued to lap her core, alternating between dipping his tongue into her and licking her bundle of nerves. She did her best to stifle her moans. His fingers replaced his mouth as he spoke. “If you don’t be quiet, those panties are going to end up in your mouth,” Jake warned. 

Without warning, Jake’s palm met her ass again. She bit her lip to keep quiet, and Jake smirked as he felt her clench around his fingers. He sank his teeth into her ass cheek as he continued to pump his fingers. 

She bounced her hips, falling in sync with him. “That’s it,” he commended. Jake got to his feet, and as quick as possible, he undid his pants and lowered them just enough to expose himself. 

Mrs. Seresin let herself melt onto his desk, cheek and chest flush against it, as Jake slid into her. He ran a hand along the exposed section of her spine until his fingers were at the nape of her neck. She enjoyed the light pressure. Jake listened to her practically purring as he languidly pumped. Each snap of his hips drove hers into the edge of the desk. 

Then his hand moved to her arm, skimming along the limb until his fingers entwined with hers. She pulled their hands so they were tucked against her body. Jake trailed wet kisses along her shoulders and neck, while he fed her praises. 

Her eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm built. She was so close. So close, but she wanted it a little rougher. Before she realized what she was saying, she was mid-sentence. “Is that all you got, Lieutenant Commander?” 

Jake smirked. He untwined his hand from hers and placed it back at the nape of her neck, pressing her harder onto the desk. “I’ve got whatever you want, baby.” She bit back a whine each time his hips snapped into her. Jake was doing his best to hold out until she came, but every time she clenched around him, his resolve melted a little. 

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as she squeezed him again. A thought popped into his mind. “Knee.” Knowingly, Mrs. Seresin hiked her knee onto the desk, and Jake pinned it there with his arm. 

He hissed, enjoying the new angle, and Mrs. Seresin was biting her lip so hard she was shocked she hadn’t drawn blood. However, she was successful in remaining silent as Jake continued to pound into her. 

This was it. Jake's release imminent, he moved his hand from her neck to her clit. The rough feeling of his fingers helped push her over the edge. Jake let himself go, so they came close together. She released her lip as Jake’s motions slowed to a halt. His cock pulsed a few more times. 

His body came to rest over hers. She could feel his pins digging into her back—it made her smile. After a few minutes of postcotial bliss, Jake’s body heat disappeared. Mrs. Seresin moaned as he helped her get up. 

Once his clothes were back on and in order, he helped her dress. She was buttoning her shirt when he grabbed her panties from the desk. “I want you to wear these home.” He knelt and held them out.  

A hand on his shoulder she put a foot through each leg hole. Then Jake pulled them up as he stood. He held her by the waist for a lingering kiss. She pulled away before it could become more. She smiled at him as she picked up her skirt and put it back, completing her outfit. 

“Did you enjoy lunch, Lieutenant Commander?” She winked at him. He extended a hand, which she took it and allowed him to pull her back into a hug. 

“I did.” He pecked her lips. “We may have to make it a regular thing.”

She pretended to mull it over. “I’m sure I can pencil you in.” They both smiled, and he kissed her again. 

They both froze as the doorknob jiggled, followed by a sharp knock. Jake quickly unlocked and opened the door. Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson breezed in. 

“Admiral.” Jake stood at attention. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Mrs. Seresin. “Good afternoon, Mrs. Seresin.” Cyclone’s voice was surprised. Also airer, and much softer, than when he spoke to anyone in uniform. 

“Good afternoon, Admiral,” she responded. 

“What brings you to base?” He squared himself to her, taking full interest. 

She smiled. “I wanted to see the Lieutenant Commander’s new digs and assess what we could do to spruce it up a bit.” 

“Mhmm,” he responded. An idea clearly percolating. “Next time you're at North Island, I should have you look at my office. It’s a little stale.” 

“I’d love to, Admiral.” She gave him a sweet smile. “Well, I should let you two get to work.” Mrs. Seresin closed the gap between her and Jake. She pecked his cheek. “I’ll see you both for dinner tonight?” The men nodded. “Great! I’m making short rib lasagna,” she noted as she segued to the door. 

Cyclone winked at her, thanking her for the heads up about the menu. It’d make pairing a wine much easier.  

He and Jake had always gotten along and grew to be friends. Each time he came to Lemoore, they were sure to invite the Admiral over for dinner.

Jake excused himself to walk his wife to her vehicle. “Smooth exit,” she whispered as they walked.

“Thank god you’re a charmer.” He gently squeezed her ass. 

“Jake!” She stumbled a bit. However, Jake was right behind her to keep her from falling. He put a hand on her waist to steady her and placed a kiss on her cheek from behind. 

They walked the rest of the way to the vehicle in silence. “Thank you.” She turned as they approached the driver’s side. She gave him one more kiss, and he opened the door for her to slide into her seat. He then shut it as she started the engine. He shook his head as he watched her drive away. 

On the walk back to his office, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his calendar. A month from today, he added an event, made it recurring, and sent the invite.

After Admiral Simpson had left his office, Jake was alone, sifting through paperwork. He looked over when his phone lit up with a notification. He smirked as he read accepted next to her name. Their next lunch date couldn’t come soon enough.

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[flamingo-writes]

A Dinner Invitation — Hobie x Reader

Based off my Gal In The Chair headcannons

Genre: fluff, slice of life. Plotless fluff basically.

Warnings: none. Perhaps cursing? I don’t remember, at this point my brain writes curse words like they’re not actually curse words.

Summary: Miles gets a dinner invitation at Hobie’s universe. Not only Miles walks into Hobie’s home, which is as artistic as he expected, but much greener than he imagined. And there he meets Hobie’s girlfriend, equally artistic, perfectly matching Hobie’s energy. Seeing Hobie so relaxed and affectionate feels weirdly intimate and refreshing to Miles.

Word Count: 1.2K words

A/N: I’ve been daydreaming of all sorts of scenarios revolving the Gal in The Chair. So, be ready for the spam 😩 if you’d like to be tagged, let me know.

“Home, sweet’eart!” Hobie said walking inside the seemingly chaotic place, as Gwen, Pav and Miles followed him.

Miles looked around, surprised by the amount of things lying around. It was chaotic but didn’t look dirty. Almost as if everything had been purposefully place where it was. It was a small apartment with hardly any furniture. But there were art projects, materials and plants everywhere. Plants everywhere. The confusion only seemed to grow with every step, the apartment smelled like a woman lived there, but didn’t smell like Gwen.

And still puzzled by what went on between Hobie and Gwen, specially after he’d said she’d left her jumper, among the things he’d heard, he was sure there was something going on between them. And judging by the apartment, —and the smell of girl’s perfume—, it did seem like Hobie might live with one.

As Miles felt simultaneously more confused and somewhat relieved, he saw Hobie walk up to a girl working on a mannequin, fixing some clothes. He kissed the top of her headache wrapped his arms around her waist.

“That looks cool…” He purred. “Sexy, even…”

The girl giggled and looked over at Hobie as they kissed.

Miles sighed relieved.

“Will you model that for me later today?” Hobie asked with a flirty smirk.

“I can’t. This is a personalised piece Julie asked for…” The girl said looking over her shoulder at Hobie with a gentle smile and loving stare. “How did it go?”

“Messy,” Hobie said letting go of the girl. “awful, but Gwendy and Pav are here and I brought a new friend…” He said.

Pav yelled your name as you put down the needles and pins and greeted Pav in a tight hug. You let out a soft giggle as Pav lifted you up effortlessly, as if it had been ages since he last saw you.

“Who…?” Miles whispered confused.

“Hobie’s girlfriend,” Gwen said.

“A true renaissance artist,” Hobie said before introducing you to Miles, telling him your name. “Buy her stuff. She personalises and fixes your clothes, also does that with secondhand clothes. She also designs them as well as handmade Jewellery. Brings your plants back to health, she also reproduces and sells them, if you ever want to gift your mum some pretty plants or flowers…Helps me setting up my art shows, and set up everything for a gig. She’s also my left hand, best friend, lover, and favourite person on earth,” Hobie said proudly as you blushed lightly as Pav let you go from his tight bear hug.

“I’m not as interesting as Hobes just made me sound…” You said modestly walking up to Miles.

“But she is,” Pav intervened and walked into the kitchen, parading around the place like he lived there.

“I’m…Miles…” He said with an awkward chuckle as he extended his stiff hand towards you.

“Nice meeting you Miles. Coffee? Tea? We also have plain ol’water…Juice…”

“N-no thanks…” Miles chuckled awkwardly. “I’m fine. Thank you…” He said as he looked around. “So you do all of this for a living?”

“Sadly, in this highly capitalist and consumerist society, people do not appreciate the handwork of a true artist…” Hobie said as Miles looked slightly puzzled at him.

“That’s Hobie for, I do this full time even though it’s a lot of stuff, I barely manage to make a living out of this,”

“No way!”

“People don’t buy plants nor get their clothes fixed everyday,” You shrugged.

“Hey!” Pav said defensively as he went into the kitchen.

“Pav always buys plants, though” You chuckled. “Hobie helps me a lot too, the both of us manage to keep this whole place afloat,” You sad looking at Hobie with a dreamy smile.

Hobie from the kitchen looked at you with a cheeky flirty smirk and winked at you.

“Buy your mother a nice set of earrings and a plant, kid…” Hobie told Miles as he walked out of the kitchen with a cup of chai.

“My mother really liked the flowers I bought her last week,” Pav said. “Also the necklace and earrings set you made for her!”

“I’m glad, Pav. You know where to find me…” You said happily as Hobie wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as he handed you the cup.

“I made some chai, if anyone wants some” Pav said happily.

You took a sip out of Hobie’s mug and hummed.

“God, no matter how many times I do it, it’s never as good as Pav’s…” You sighed softly.

“My man’s got a talent,” Hobie said.

“Gotta go back to that shirt I was working on,” You announced. “Are you guys staying for dinner?”

“Gwendy and I can handle dinner, you go do your thing, luv” Hobie said as he grabbed your jaw in his long fingers and kissed you sweetly. “Call you when it’s done,” He said softly as you hummed and stole one last peck from him before handing him back his cup and went back to the mannequin.

“Can you bring me my own cup of chai?”

“Anything for you, princess,” Hobie said with a soft voice as he turned around and went into the kitchen.

Miles looked at you as you went back to measuring and putting pins on the mannequin. Quickly absorbed by your work.

"Gorgeous, isn’t she?” Hobie said with a proud smirk. "C’mon, y’all wanna have dinner, y’all better help…"

Despite the chatty mess of laughs and sarcastic comments, Miles was still intrigued with how you never seemed to lose focus from your work. Even when they were being crazy loud. Blending naturally into the commotion, Miles felt comfortable between all of them. Wondering whether if it was because they all were spider people, or simply because the over all energy marched his own. He had friends before, but never a group of friends like this one. He felt absolutely free, being able to behave naturally without the fear of being judged or stared at.

Pav took over the kitchen, making most of the work himself. While the food was ready, Pav and Gwen talked about spices as Miles kept looking around intrigued. At some point, Hobie disappeared from the scene, and as Miles was looking for Hobie, his eyes dragging, looking over every detail in the apartment. Eventually, he spotted Hobie’s tall figure towering over you.

As you set down your tools, and Hobie pulled a chair next to you, he cupped your face in his large hands and pulled you close, kissing you sweetly. Something about Hobie being the badass and cool punk, a guy who was seemingly ready to start a coup d’état anywhere, now looked like the biggest softy he’d ever seen, while still looking cool somehow.

Feeling weirdly love sick and jealous, he didn’t intend to stare as Hobie and you kissed. He thought about how good it must be to have what the two of you had. He glanced over at Gwen, feeling his crush poking at him, twisting his guts as Gwen met his stare and smiled. She then looked over at the both of you.

“Aren’t they gross?” Gwen asked with a playful smirk.

“I think they’re cute,” Pav intervened.

Miles chuckled and gazed back at you, as you were now hugging Hobie. Your hand disappearing in his wicks, as his face was nuzzled against the crook of your neck and his arms around your waist.

“I think they’re cute. Perhaps slightly gross…” Miles joked.

“It makes me kinda jealous. I wish I could get the courage to ask Meera out on a date…” Pav sighed.

“We can hear ya talking over ‘ere, lads…” Hobie chuckled.

“You’re so nosy,” You chuckled kissing Hobie’s head.

“We knew that,” He replied as he pulled away from the hug and stared at you, cupping one of your cheeks in his large hand. “Absolutely gorgeous,” He said as he leaned forward and stole a peck from your lips. “How’s dinner, Pav?”

“Basically done. One or two more minutes,” He said.

“C’mon, Miles. Let’s set the table,” Gwen said gently bumping her elbow on Miles’ ribs.

~~~~~~~

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[sister-lucifer]

The Things That Find You 

Laughing Jack x Male Reader 

Genre: Smut 

Summary: Reader finds an antique Jack-In-The-Box at a yard sale, unaware that by purchasing it they would also be taking home an unwanted guest. 

Content/Warnings: Dubcon elements, horror elements, LJ being a stalker creep (so some non con voyeurism), LJ is just fucking weird in this one, clown fucking shenanigans, big stripey clown dick and also long stripey clown tongue, comically large clown penis, LJ eats ass, LJ is massive so big size difference, tummy bulge, that dick should NOT be able to fit in you but it’s my story i can bend the laws of anatomy however i wish, LJ is very mean in this one and doesn’t really care if he hurts you, some degradation, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is kind of a slut boy (same), there’s a lot of build up but please it’s worth it i prommy (but also feel free to skip to the porn that’s totally fair)

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio (request rules + masterlist in pinned post)!

Also, please reblog! it’s free, takes two seconds, and really helps me out 

Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

A/N: Jack is british just fyi so if you’re like me and you read with accents there you go!

The antique jack-in-the-box was certainly an odd find at a garage sale, but there was no denying that it caught your eye the moment you saw it. It was incredibly ornate, clearly hand painted in all black and white and decorated with balloons and candy, not to mention it was preserved wonderfully for a piece that had, presumably, been stored in an attic for who knows how long. You could run your fingers over the edges and feel every detail of the tediously carved borders. You carefully turned the wooden box over in your hands, looking over the large, carefully painted words on the front:

“Laughing Jack In The Box!”, surrounded by all sorts of patterns and shapes.

Your face immediately lit up. Everything about this box screamed one of a kind. You could already see it sitting on your collectors shelf, safe behind the glass for you to keep and observe. You absolutely had to have it. 

“Excuse me miss?” You called, looking around for the old woman who was running the garage sale. She got up from her lawn chair and made her way over about as fast as you’d expect from one as antique as some of the items currently being sold. 

“Could you tell me about this jack-in-the-box?” You asked, trying to hide your elation. 

“Oh, this old thing…” She began, looking at you over her comically oversized glasses. “It belonged to my great, great grandfather, Isaac, and was handmade by his father. It was given to me as a young girl, and I was keeping it in the hopes I could pass it on to my own children.” 

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of sadness at the comment, but it seems the woman had no qualms about selling it. 

“Well, it may please you to know that I’m an antique collector,” You explained in an effort to reassure her. “This is a beautiful piece. If you’ll sell it to me, I can promise you it’ll be safe on my shelf.” 

“Oh, I have no worries about that. No one would pick this old thing up unless they knew what they were buying. So, what’s your offer young man?” 

You thought for a few moments, weighing the box in your hands. You didn’t want to completely rip her off, but a one of a kind antique like this could go for thousands in the right place, and you weren’t looking to break the bank for this thing. Besides, who else would possibly buy it if you didn’t? 

You pulled your wallet out and flipped through it, debating with yourself. 

“How about…a clean fifty?” 

And with that, a deal was made. Before you knew it you were proudly walking back to your car with the box tucked under your arm. You placed it carefully in the front passenger seat where you could watch over it, glancing back one last time to the now empty place on the table where the box once sat before driving away. 

Immediately upon getting home you rushed to your room and swung open your shelf, eyes scanning over every row as you tried to find the best place for your newest treasure. It took a bit of rearranging to keep the shelf organized to your liking, but eventually you were able to place the box neatly right in the middle. You carefully closed the glass door and took a few steps back to admire your work. It was absolute perfection, and you couldn’t stop yourself from happily clapping your hands together. You deserved to applaud yourself a bit, after all. 

You flopped down on your bed and grabbed your phone, eager to share your find with anyone who would listen, giddy with excitement. You really couldn’t believe how lucky you were! No one else would ever lay hands on a jack-in-the-box like this one, and now it was all yours. 

As the hours of the afternoon dissolved into the night, you found yourself peeking into your room just about every time you walked past. You smiled wide whenever you saw the pristine box sitting on your shelf. It was especially beautiful when the sun hit it just right and made it shine. Your chest was still swelling with pride even as you climbed into bed for the night, able to peacefully fall asleep knowing that you’d filled another spot on your shelf today. 

Unbeknownst to you, you had just given up the privilege of peaceful sleep. 

That night you had one of the worst, most vivid nightmares you could remember. 

You were standing in your room late at night, and everything seemed deathly silent, as if all the birds and insects that would normally be chirping outside had up and died off. A shiver ran down your spine as you looked around in confusion. You tried to turn on your lamp, but it wouldn’t come on. Trying the light switch yielded the same distressing result. You moved to open the door, but the moment you reached out for the knob it disappeared as if it had never been there in the first place. When you turned back, your bedroom window was gone too. Both of your escape routes had dissolved into thin air without so much as a sound. 

The hair on the back of your neck stood up as your eyes slowly wandered to the jack-in-the-box. It was the only object left on your now open collectors shelf, but it seemed to take up so much more space than before. It had captured your gaze in an iron grip, and no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t look away. A terrible feeling began to bubble in the pit of your stomach, becoming heavier and heavier until you felt as though you may collapse from the weight, but nothing was happening. Something about the box itself felt so…malicious, so threatening, but it was simply sitting dormant on your shelf. 

What were you so scared of? 

That was the question replaying in your mind when you woke with a start, nearly falling out of your bed in your disoriented state. You shot straight up as you fought to catch your breath, taking a look around just to make sure your window and door were still there. Fortunately, they were. It really was just a nightmare. 

A wave of relief washed over you as you slowly laid back down. You took an extra minute to catch your breath, silently scolding yourself for being so easily scared. You turned your head to look out the window, now noticing the very first little shreds of the dawn coming up over the horizon. 

However, you noticed something else as well. Something that set off just a bit of unease in you. 

The glass door of your shelf was open. 

Not wide open, or broken, just slightly cracked as if it hadn’t been closed all the way and was now just barely ajar. You could’ve sworn you shut it all the way, you could even remember hearing the little click.

But we all make mistakes, don’t we?

That seemed enough of an explanation to calm you as you slipped out of bed to close the shelf once more. This time you double checked, just to be sure. When you were satisfied you went back to bed, finding sleep rather easily and this time without incident. 

When you awoke some hours later you couldn’t help but question which parts of the night were a dream and which were reality. The memories of when you had woken up the first time were hazy, not to mention you were still shaken up from the nightmare. You tried to push it out of your mind, though, when you found your shelf securely closed and seemingly untouched. That was really all that mattered. 

It seems you had the green light to go about your day as usual. 

First thing’s first: you need to change out of your nightclothes. The stained band tee and baggy sweats would not cut it for running errands. You decided on something that would be comfortable for the day, but still made you feel confident and happy with yourself. 

As you undressed you couldn’t help but take a moment to appreciate yourself in the mirror, standing there in just your boxer briefs. You ran a hand over your sides, turning around halfway as you admired your own figure. It was a silly habit to have, really, but what was it hurting? After all, you were one handsome man. You deserved to be seen. 

You weren’t the only one who thought this, and you certainly weren’t the only one who enjoyed admiring you. 

Completely hidden out of your view, just how he liked, two achromatic pinwheel eyes spun manically behind the shadows of the jack-in-the-box. He only had to lift the box just slightly, so little that you would never notice, and even if you did you would likely brush it off as your imagination. Jack was skilled like that, able to slowly lure his victims into madness in such a way that they wouldn’t notice until it was too late. 

You, though, had caught his attention in a slightly different manner. 

You had piqued his interest the moment you picked up his box, handling it with a curious yet careful manner. For generations he had been packed away in dusty attics and grimy basements and long forgotten storage units, completely disgraced by the family line that was supposed to cherish him. But you had plucked him from that miserable cycle, dusted him off, and placed him carefully on your shelf in a secure little spot where you could see each other every day. 

This was certainly unusual behavior. 

That ache of contempt that he felt for nearly everyone else somehow had yet to creep in. On some level, Jack was just as curious about you has you had been about him, and now he was safe behind the glass to keep and observe you as he saw fit. Human bodies in particular had always been an odd interest of his seeing as they looked so different from his own. Seeing you flaunt yours so proudly with no one else around was honestly a bit amusing. 

He watched silently as you slipped on your day clothes, turning around a couple more times in the mirror and adjusting your outfit a bit before finally deciding you were happy. He didn’t slip back down into his box until he heard your car pulling out of the driveway. 

He sat there with himself for some few hours while you were gone. He had lost any sense of time at this point, used to spending his days alone in his box. Although, this time, there was one reoccurring theme that all his thoughts seemed to circle back to: 

You. 

What made exactly you so interesting, hm? He could venture a vague guess, but something was just…different. His affinity for humans had long since waned to nothing nearly two centuries ago, and yet a small part of it was beginning to stir in him once more. 

It seemed this would require further observation, which was certainly no issue to him. 

You, on the other hand, were blissfully unaware that you were currently sharing your humble abode. There were a few times when the events of the earlier night managed to worm its way back into your mind, but you always managed to push it away. You were simply being silly, that was all. It was a random occurrence with absolutely no significance. 

Yeah, sure, that made enough sense. 

By the time you were unlocking your front door, you had been lucky enough to truly forget about your nightmare. It seemed that you had finally calmed yourself and managed to stay grounded. 

At least you had until you stepped through the door. 

The second you had both feet in the doorway, the nightmare came rushing back in vivid flashes. It felt like your grocery bags were filled with cement, your limbs suddenly going weak. Your entire body had gone stiff, paralyzed with an indescribable sense of anxiety, the feeling that something was terribly, deeply wrong in your home. 

You swept through the whole house and found not a single thing out of place, though every time you turned a corner you were sure you’d see something you didn’t want to.

No smashed in windows, no kicked in doors, nothing taken or broken, no other sign of an intruder. Nothing that would indicate anything out of the ordinary.

Then why was your stomach churning with the same heavy dread you’d felt in the nightmare? 

You wracked your brain as you tried to figure out what could possibly be making you feel so uneasy in your own home, but nothing came to mind. Even as you put away your groceries you were mumbling and muttering to yourself, attempting to fetch any semblance of an explanation. 

Nothing. 

Absolutely nothing. 

Jack was more than happy to watch you spin yourself into a tizzy over his little tricks. He giggled to himself when you paced back and forth where he could see you outside the doorway of your room, proud to see he hadn’t lost his mischievous touch. 

You felt absolutely exhausted by the time you were trudging your way to your room, the subtle thrum of an oncoming headache already threatening to floor you for the rest of the day. You were so drained, in fact, that you had to do a double take to realize that your collector’s shelf had been completely opened. 

Not just creaked open like last time, completely opened. If it had been pushed any farther, the hinges would’ve snapped. 

You stared in disbelief, mouth hanging half open. You couldn’t even will yourself to move. It felt someone had just lit a match to the pile of questions that had been accumulating in the back of your mind. As if on autopilot, you walked over numbly and shut the glass door of the shelf. This time, you triple checked that it was shut. 

Of course, this time you weren’t satisfied with that. 

The first thing you did once you had thrown on sweats and laid down was go to order a lock for the shelf online. You even paid extra to make sure it would be delivered the next day. After all, the last thing you needed was one of your prized possessions falling out and breaking. 

Yes, that was the very normal, rational reason why you needed a lock. 

You sighed with exhaustion as you struggled to get comfortable in your bed, figuring maybe a nap would help you recharge a bit. By some miracle you actually managed to fall asleep, and by another you slept peacefully for a full hour uninterrupted. 

Damn, you needed that. You actually felt better when you woke up, stretching and cracking your back a few times before getting up. 

Suddenly your fearful reaction earlier seemed so silly! Why were you so upset anyways? Because of a bad dream and a dingy old shelf? How stupid. Really, you were lucky you lived alone. If anyone had seen you like that they’d think you were crazy, irrational, completely out of your—

The shelf is open again. 

The fucking shelf is open again, and the box has moved an entire shelf down on its own. 

The box has moved on its own. 

You were suddenly feeling light headed. 

You sat back down on your bed, your head already beginning to ache once more. You were dizzy, confused, struggling to find your bearings in reality. You held your head in your hands as you tried to take a breather. Part of you hoped that if you simply looked away then back up, maybe the problem would fix itself.

No such luck. 

You groaned with frustration, practically stomping over to your shelf. You moved the box back to its original place in a quick and jumpy manner, as if it was burning hot and it would hurt to hold onto it for too long. This time you quadruple checked that it had been closed properly, and even threw a blanket over the shelf to cover it. 

It wasn’t a fix, but it could at least give you some semblance of security. 

“Stupid broken thing…” You muttered to yourself, speed walking out of your room to head to the kitchen where hopefully a snack could distract you. 

Jack was giddy with excitement, unable to stop himself from snickering with smug self-satisfaction. It had been so long since he had someone to play with, and you were so fun to scare it almost felt too easy. 

He would have to play his next cards perfectly, though, if he wanted to keep this up. 

He didn’t mess with you at all the rest of the day, even when he really, really wanted to. You peaked into your room every time you walked by, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw the shelf was exactly as you’d left it every time. 

Maybe, you thought for the umpteenth time, you really were just being irrational. You didn’t even have another nightmare that night, and when you awoke the shelf was still closed with the blanket untouched on top of it. 

When the lock came in that day you wondered for a bit if you really needed it, but ultimately decided it was better to be over-prepared than under. You could finally remove the blanket cover on the shelf, feeling much better now that you could properly shut and lock it. You stored the key away in the drawer of your nightstand where you knew it would be safe. 

For you, it seemed like everything was finally back to normal again. 

For Jack, this was the perfect opportunity to increase his antics tenfold. He was becoming more and more impatient, wanting to badly to properly greet you, and with each scare he only felt himself grow stronger. He was feeding on your anguish, allowing it to fuel him until eventually he would be ready to come out and play. 

For the next few weeks, Jack made you sure you found absolutely no peace. He was relentless and cruel, even by his standards. He broke your stupid little lock, and the two others you ordered after that. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’d made you shut the glass door to the shelf again. Whenever you tried to cover him with the blanket, he let you know he was particularly upset with you by not only swinging the shelf door wide open, but moving his box right to your bedside table. That way, he got to see your terror up close when you jolted awake, nearly tripping over yourself to get away when you saw the box a mere couple of feet from your face. He made the house creak and jump every time you got a moment of quiet. Hell, he was petty enough to mess with the thermostat when you were out, meaning you got to return home to a freezing cold or blistering heat that was surely running up your bill. Speaking of running up your bills, it wasn’t unusual for Jack to leave the water running either. 

The thing that got to you the most, though, was the incessant nightmares.

God, they never stopped. 

They were almost all the same: 

You’d be trapped somewhere familiar, like your room or a store you’d been at that day. You’d be completely alone and no lights would work, and when you tried to leave all the doors and windows would disappear. And every time, every goddamn time, that jack-in-the-box would be sitting there to greet you when you turned around. That was by far the worst part. Just looking at it would make you weak and nauseous, but you always woke up just before you’d collapse. Whenever you awoke from your nightmares you tried to take comfort in the sunrise beginning to slowly come up over the horizon, but deep down you knew the daylight could no longer save you. 

Each day you woke up more exhausted than the last, too tired to go anywhere but not able to stand being in your house with whatever entity was making your life hell. 

On the contrary, Jack was merely becoming more and more energetic every day. He hadn’t felt this eager in a long, long time. He was even feeling a bit bold, working up the courage once or twice to open the shelf while you were in the room. That scared you the most, making you jump with fear and scramble out of the room as fast as you could. 

He knew you didn’t really have anywhere else to go. You could leave for the day, sure, but sooner or later you’d have to come back home. The stars must’ve aligned for him to find you, the perfect little plaything that could never really escape and gave him endless entertainment. You were certainly a funny one. 

Although, there were times he enjoyed simply watching you just as much as tormenting you. 

Countless times he’d find himself occupied with quietly observing you as if you were a completely foreign creature. He’d peak out of his box to watch you toss and turn at night, to watch you dress in the morning, and he even got to see you walk back from your showers a few times. You looked so soft, even from this far away, with so many places for him to grab and squeeze and wrap his massive claws around. 

It was shameful, really. Or it should’ve been at least. Jack didn’t know the meaning of the word. All he knew was that the urge to reach out and grab you in his claws was growing stronger, and fast. His already minimal patience was beginning to thin, and he knew that soon it would run out completely. Watching you from afar wouldn’t be enough. 

But that was okay. 

He was finally ready to properly greet you, and he knew exactly how he’d do it. 

That night you experienced one of the usual terrors, but this time you couldn’t recognize the room. It looked to be the bedroom of a victorian mansion with tall wooden walls decorated with dusty paintings that seemed to go up forever, closing you in on all sides. A child’s toys were scattered around the room, and the blankets on the bed had been tussled and pushed around. It was clear someone had been living here, but who? And why were you in a room you had never seen before? 

And why, God— 

Why was that jack-in-the-box still sitting on the shelf? And why was the crank turning on its own, playing the quiet, foreboding tune of “Pop Goes The Weasel?” 

The feeling of dread that filled you was nothing new, but what you didn’t expect was to see the box slowly open as the crank continued to turn.

The movement wasn’t sudden, but it was absolutely shocking, so much so that you fell back onto your hands. You tried to scoot backwards, to somehow get away, but you couldn’t move. All you could do was watch as the lid of the box clicked into its open place, and a dark shape began to emerge. 

It took a moment for you to figure out what you were looking at. The shape had sharp edges and moved slowly, in a controlled manner. It wrapped around the edge of the box and tapped against it. 

It was a hand. 

A massive hand with pitch black claws, each nearly as large as your palm, much too big to belong to something that should’ve been able to fit in that box. 

A second clawed hand reached up, grabbing onto the opposite side of the box. They looked to be pulling up the rest of the body. 

You watched, mouth agape in silent horror as the claws were followed by long striped sleeves, then a head and face covered by long black hair that fell past broad shoulders, until eventually the entire body had dragged itself out of the box. The creature sat there limply with its limbs bent unnaturally as if its own body was too heavy for it to move. There was one thing about it, though, that made your blood run cold: 

Above a sharp toothed smile that was stretched impossibly wide were two achromatic pinwheel eyes, spinning manically behind a curtain of dark hair. They pierced your soul with their stare, almost seeming to glow in the dark.

There was a split second where you knew you were about to wake up, but the sight before you when you forced your eyes open was so similar to your nightmare that you weren’t sure it had worked. 

That…thing from your dream was hovering over you. 

Its visage was completely clear to you now, hair falling around its face and on either side of your head as it peered down at you. A single glance towards its body showed it was even bigger up close, easily twice your size. It resembled some sort of clown, in line with the theme of the jack-in-the-box, but nothing about it seemed comforting or humorous. 

Your first instinct was to thrash, but you couldn’t move. The clown had pinned your arms down with its massive claws, not even flinching when you tried to fight it off. It took no effort to hold you down. 

Its razor-toothed mouth began to crack open, and for a second you expected it to lunge forward and end it all with one fatal snap of its jaws. 

But that didn’t happen.

No, instead… 

It laughed.

The laugh itself didn’t even sound malicious or evil. In any other context it could easily be mistaken as an innocent giggle, a sound you might make when you saw something particularly cute. 

That was what you were to Jack: 

Cute. 

But not in the way you’d think. 

You were cute in the way a helpless, injured animal is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you could hold in the palm of your hand is cute. 

Cute in the way that something you knew you had complete control over is cute. 

Cute in a pathetic, pitiful way that Jack loved. 

He had waited so long to have his fun with you, he was trembling with excitement. 

“Oooh, there you are!” Jack spoke in a lighthearted tone, drawing out his words in a playful manner. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to sound like, but it definitely wasn’t that. You couldn’t decide if his oddly happy demeanor and sing-song tone with the cartoonish lilt of his accent was more or less frightening than the classic demonic voice of a supernatural killer.

Suddenly something uncomfortably wet slid from your shoulder to your cheek, and it wasn’t until he pulled back that you realized it was his tongue. 

It was impossibly long and had the same striped pattern as his sleeves, moving in a much too articulated manner, as if it was another limb. You watched with wide eyes at it slowly retracted back into his mouth with a sickening wet sound. You could imagine it coiled up in there like a snake; after all, that was the only feasible way it should’ve been able to fit back in his mouth. 

“You taste even better than I imagined…” The clown continued, taking no notice of (or at least not caring about) your discomfort. “You’ve been teasing ol’ Jack, haven’t you?” 

“J…Jack?” You echoed in a whisper. You could hardly hear your own meek voice. 

He only chuckled in response, taking great delight in hearing you say his name. 

One of his hands released your arm, though you didn’t dare move either way. It slowly slid its way under your oversized nightshirt, pushing it above your chest and exposing your entire midriff. Both of his hands ran along your sides slowly, two claw-tipped thumbs barely scraping over your skin. Just a bit more pressure could’ve drawn blood, and it wouldn’t even take much effort on Jack’s part. 

You tried not to move, to not even breathe, terrified that one wrong move would get you torn to shreds. You could imagine one razor sharp talon digging into your chest and dragging to your stomach, slicing you open in a mess of gore and intestines and oh, God—

You winced when Jack’s tongue unfurled once more, this time running from your navel all the way to your chest. It left a cold trail of saliva that made you shiver. You had to turn your head away, unable to look at Jack any longer, only to yelp in pain when you felt the sharp sting of a bite.

When you looked down again you were greeted with Jack’s smug grin. 

“Pay attention to me and I won’t have to do that again.” He ordered, unblinking stare piercing through you. The tone of the demand was almost whiny, like he would throw a tantrum if he didn’t get his way.

“Wh…What the hell do you want?” You choked out. 

Jack didn’t answer. It would be more fun to watch you figure it out on your own. 

He adjusted you in his hold, allowing him to sit up as he moved to grasp your thighs. It was then you realized you’d neglected to put on any actual pants before bed, your lower half clad only in your boxer briefs which were doing very little to keep you modest, especially as Jack lifted your clothed bulge closer to his eager mouth. 

“W-Wait—!”

But your plea came a moment too late, and any other attempt at words died in your throat when you felt Jack’s tongue run over your cock through your boxers. 

“Shit—! Jesus Christ…” You huffed, “What the fuck…are you doing…?” 

You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and watched helplessly as Jack’s tongue ran over you once more, making you tense as you felt your cock twitch. Damn, that felt good…

You really shouldn’t have been enjoying this. Especially not this much. You expected to be much more disgusted, and yet you weren’t. In fact, there was a little voice in the back of your head that was eager to take much more. 

But what choice did you have, really? 

Jack certainly had no intention of stopping, and you certainly weren’t going anywhere. Besides, for all you knew you’d wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a shameful wet dream.

You tried to relax a bit in his grip, which proved difficult when he was staring at you like he wanted to eat you alive. 

Before you could blink Jack had suddenly flipped you onto your stomach, making quick work of your boxers with one swipe of his claws. The sound of ripping fabric caught you off guard, and everything happened so fast you weren’t sure what had happened until you felt Jack’s tongue run over the bare back of your thighs. 

“Oh my God—!” You cried out, barely managing to muffle yourself with a pillow. You held it tight against your face, and even had to bite down on it in an attempt to stop yourself from screaming when Jack slipped his tongue inside of you.

It felt even longer than it looked, squirming inside of you and leaving absolutely no spot untouched. Every time you thought he couldn’t possibly go any deeper, he somehow did, filling you with his tongue until you couldn’t fit anymore. A shame, really; he had lots more to offer, but he couldn’t expect much from such a little human. 

His hands were easily large enough to grasp your waist and hold you against his mouth. You had no way of knowing, but Jack was more than aware of his own strength, even taking care to make sure he didn’t pierce you with his nails. You’d be much for fun alive, after all. Although, this didn’t mean he didn’t have a bit of fun scaring you, occasionally giving a rough squeeze just to feel you flinch. He was thoroughly invested in tasting every inch of you, but that didn’t mean he’d stop toying with you at every opportunity. 

Despite his hold on you, you couldn’t stop yourself from writhing desperately in his hands. You weren’t trying to fight him, but the sensation of his tongue wriggling around so deep inside of you was certainly an odd one. Your cock was already throbbing between your legs and dripping precum onto your sheets. There was a nagging urge to reach down and give your needy member some much needed attention, but you couldn’t force yourself to release your painful grip on your blanket. It was the only thing providing you any sort of purchase. 

Jack was making quite the show of eating you out as well, moaning and slurping in a rather dramatic manner. He certainly wasn’t afraid of being noisy, though he made sure to stay quiet enough to listen to your encouraging noises. You sounded so desperate and needy, he just couldn’t get enough. You became especially loud when he began to slowly move his tongue in and out. He could even feel you squeeze around it, and it made his cock ache as he imagined what it would feel like to finally be inside of you. 

You shuddered when Jack finally retracted his tongue, his saliva completely soaking your hole and beginning to run down your legs, leaving you now feeling thoroughly stretched but unpleasantly empty. He only let you rest as long as it took for him to close and wipe his mouth before he was manhandling you once more, this time flipping you into your previous position on your back. It happened so fast that just the impact of your head on the pillow made you dizzy. 

When you looked up again Jack had leaned back a bit, looking down at his hands as he unbuckled his suspenders and soon after his pants. You followed his gaze just in time to see his own massive length spring free from his trousers. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

It was bigger than anything you’d ever even imagined, and suddenly you felt embarrassingly inadequate. It too was striped, and shaped in such a way that you could easily tell it was a cock but definitely not a human one. He laid it over your stomach and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer size. It was thick and heavy too, throbbing eagerly against your skin. 

“W-Woah, wait, no way—“ You stuttered, attempting to crawl backwards and away from Jack. “That’s fucking giant, holy shit…You can’t— T-That won’t—“ 

“Shhhhh!” Jack interrupted as he roughly pulled you back to him, “Calm down, you whiny little thing. You’ll be fine.” 

You only whimpered in reply, watching with bated breath as he spread your legs wide to make room for his cock. He groaned with delight when his leaking tip brushed against your waiting hole.

“A-At least be careful…!” You pleaded in a last-ditch effort to earn yourself some mercy. 

“I make no promises.” Jack replied shortly, as if he was annoyed with your request. Maybe it was a bit cruel to be so careless, but surely you were being dramatic. Humans were meant to stretch, right? Surely you weren’t that fragile.

The noise that struggled out of your mouth when he forced himself into you was downright inhuman, followed by a string of curses and other equally nasty exclamations of the sort that could’ve barred you from getting you into heaven all on their own. Not that you were going either way at this point. 

When Jack had finally filled you as much as he could, only about two thirds of his cock had managed to disappear inside of you. That was still rather impressive, all things considered, and it’s not like he could complain. Your tight hole squeezed around him in all the right places. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” You repeated under your breath as you tried to adjust to Jack’s size, a borderline impossible task. 

“Foul mouthed one, aren’t you?” He scolded, grabbing your chin roughly. “Behave, or I’ll have to wash your mouth out.” 

He seemed to find that hilarious, laughing to himself as if he’d never heard a funnier joke in his life. 

“You…fuckin’ freak…” You spat back at him half-heartedly. It was hard to sound angry when you were trying to catch your breath after being filled to your limit. Jack feigned a gasp of disbelief at your lackluster insult. 

“Naughty, naughty thing you are! Someone simply must teach you to behave!” 

He squeezed you in his grip, testing his hold one last time before he began to pull back. You thought he’d stop halfway or at least start slow, but you were left speechless as he pulled out nearly all the way, leaving just the tip still nestled inside of you. You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to brace yourself for what was sure to be a brutal impact.

“Brutal” was an understatement.

Shit, it felt like he fucking impaled you. You choked on what would’ve been a shriek when he pushed into you again, nails digging into his shoulder so hard it would’ve drawn blood if he had any. You felt unbearably full as his cock bullied its way back inside of you until it was laying heavy in your stomach. 

Jack let out a shuddering moan that dissolved into a breathy laugh as he watched you struggle to keep it together. Your mouth hanging open in a silent scream and eyes going wide with panic was exactly what he wanted to see. 

“Aww, did that hurt?” He asked, and honestly the condescending tone stung a bit. You only glared in reply. 

He pulled back again, slamming into you with even more force than the first time. You could feel the bed swaying beneath you from the sheer strength. You could only hope he didn’t wind up breaking it after he broke you. 

Jack was never one to take things slow, and as soon as he had gotten the hang of his thrusts he set a brutal pace. Each movement made your head spin with the impact. You really weren’t built to take something so massive, you shouldn’t have been able to, but you were taking it despite your body’s protests. You didn’t want to look down, unable to even stand the thought of seeing his gigantic cock disappear inside of you. 

Desperate, animalistic noises spilled through your gritted teeth and out of your mouth. Each thrust hit deeper than the last and there were times you swore he was literally rearranging your guts. Of course you would eventually adjust to Jack’s size and strength, but that didn’t shake the fear that this encounter could land you in the hospital. This fear would fade as he continued though, the overwhelming fullness and ache soon melting into a pleasure like you’d never felt before. You grasped at anything you could, whether it be your sheets or Jack’s sleeves or hair, hopelessly clawing at anything you could get your shaky hands on. 

Jack’s tongue laid limp out of his mouth as he panted, shamelessly rutting into you like a toy. You were nothing but a rag doll in his clutches for him to hold and use to his black heart’s content, and then some. While you couldn’t bring yourself to look down, he was more than happy to watch his cock thrust in and out of you. The wet squelching sounds made by each little movement were like music to his ears. 

He knew he must’ve been hitting deep when he noticed the bulge he was making in your stomach. 

Oh, you simply had to see this! 

He grabbed your hair roughly and forced you to look down. 

“Ahah! Do you see that? Do you?” He asked eagerly. He took your choked noise as a ‘yes.’ 

“You’re so small, ahah…I wonder how deep I can go before you break in two!” 

He tugged on your hair once more, this time pulling it back to expose your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he dragged his tongue slowly up your neck before pulling you into a messy kiss. It only took one second of your surprise to allow him to slip his tongue into your mouth, and it quickly found its way down your throat. You were caught off guard and nearly choked, which only made Jack laugh against your lips. You could feel every little twitch or jerk it made as it explored your throat with no regard for your comfort. 

Jack didn’t pull away until he could tell you were struggling for air, retracting his tongue incredibly quickly. You were coughing and heaving to catch your breath, which he apparently found very amusing. It seemed to send him into a giggling fit every time he scared you half to death. 

Suddenly Jack came to an abrupt stop. You looked up at him in confusion, but he wasn’t looking at you. He was focused on something else. You felt yourself being jostled around as he shifted his position, sitting up on his knees and lifting you from the bed with one hand still around your waist and the other under your back. You were entirely supported by his hands now. 

What the hell is he thinking?!

You felt him retracting once more, but this time he wasn’t moving his hips. He was moving you. 

He showed no signs of struggle or even the slightest strain as he began to thrust into you again, your weight practically nothing to him. He was using you like a goddamn fleshlight, nothing more than a sleeve for his cock. 

And honestly…It wasn’t so bad. 

That seemed to be your breaking point, any sense of dignity you had before completely going out the window as you gave into him fully. If he was going to use you like a toy, you could at least put in the effort to be a good one. 

“F-Fuck! Ah—! Jack, m-more…!” You begged, and for a moment a look of surprise flashed across his face. The last thing he was expecting was to hear you pleading for him so shamelessly, but it was a welcome surprise. His signature grin returned quickly, stretching from one pointed ear to the other. 

“Oh, more he says?!” He replied, “More, more!  What happened to ‘wait, Jack!’ and ‘you can’t, Jack!’, huh? Sudden change of heart?” 

He was mocking your voice, degrading you so blatantly that he expected you to recoil at his nasty words, but instead you tightened around him. 

Oh…you liked that. 

He was more than happy to keep going. 

“What is it then, hm? Or have you already gone too stupid to answer me? Aha, you really do love this!” 

You nodded quickly in response, managing to push out a slurred reply that sounded vaguely like an agreement. 

“Fine then,” he conceded, “I can give you more…” 

And just when you thought he couldn’t possibly go any faster or shove in any deeper or make you cry out for him even more. 

He fucked you like his current life and the next depended on it, each thrust slamming the headboard into the wall so hard it left a mark. Your legs trembled as you began to get lost in the pleasure. It all felt like a blur, a wonderful blur only broken up by the realization that you were much closer to your orgasm than you realized.

“Jack, J-Jack—! I’m close, I…I’m…” You couldn’t even choke out a single sentence of warning. Jack was more than aware of what you were trying to tell him, but he was content to let you pathetically struggle for words. 

“Go on, why don’t you? If you need it so bad I won’t stop you.” 

His attempt at an impartial tone was greatly hindered by his obvious excitement, a result of how close he was to his own peak and how much he desired to see you cum. He wanted so badly to see you make a mess for him, to feel you spasm around him and know that he was the one who brought you to that. 

“Oh, please—!” You whined, “Please, please, please…” 

You had no idea what you were begging for. You didn’t have to, though, because it seems like your pleas worked anyways. Every muscle in your body tensed on instinct, your back arching up into Jack and one last high pitched cry managing to leave your throat as you came. The force of your orgasm hit you like a truck, more intense and prolonged than any other you’d had, helpfully hastened by Jack’s increasingly erratic thrusts. 

“Ahah, you squeezed so tight!” He gushed, “You feel so, so good…” 

Faster, faster, faster, he had to go faster. He was so close, so close. He had to fill you, he had to. He had to see his cum dripping out of you and to know that he’d filled you with all he had and you had to be filled. 

He went silent for a split second, and you knew what you were in for when his hips stuttered before going still, but you weren’t ready for the sheer amount of cum he pumped into you. He held you on his cock until he was completely done, continuing to make small ruts with his hips until he’d ridden out his orgasm to the end. There simply wasn’t room for it all inside of you, but even as it flowed out of you and down your legs and onto your sheets he continued to spill into you. You’d gone limp in his hands by the time he was done. 

You barely processed the feeling of being laid back down on your bed, but you definitely winced when Jack pulled out of you. Damn, you were already sore. Not to mention your forehead was drenched with a thick layer of sweat and your thighs were soaked with a multitude of bodily fluids that you were trying not to think about right now. 

You managed to crack an eye open when you heard Jack snickering. 

“Tired already? A shame. I had fun.” He said casually, as if the both of you had just returned from an outing and he hadn’t practically jumped you in your own home. Your only answer was an exhausted sigh. 

Jack cocked his head to the side as he stared down at you. Were you really so worn out already? He wasn’t tired at all! Then again, “tired” wasn’t really something he felt…

Humans are so strange. 

He laid down beside you and draped an arm over you. When he leaned in you expected him to lick you again, but instead he brought you into a kiss. An actual kiss, the first real gesture of affection he’d given you, even if it was rather brief. He pulled away to nestle his face into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his laughter against your skin. 

“You’re a funny one, do you know that? I hope I get to play with you a lot more…” 

Oh, fuck. 

He wasn’t leaving, was he?

[fannyrosie]

Autumn in summer, and summer in autumn.

These pictures were taken on a cool (18°C) July day, when the only things reminding us of summer were the sunlight, the sky colour and the flowers. That day, I felt like dressing in autumn colours. Today, it's October 4th, but the temperature has reached 29°C, which is quite abnormal in Québec. Is it a bit concerning? Definitely. I guess it's once again my cue to encourage you to thrift durable things instead of buying new, at least, when you can. And durable means you can keep your loved things for a long time! I know we all have a big footprint on our poor planet, but we might as well try our best to reduce it in ways we can for the short time we are here.

Outfit rundown Apron dress: second-hand Pink House Turtleneck: second-hand Cecil McBee Bag: second-hand Emily Temple Cute Shoes: second-hand Queen Bee Spice rack brooch: handmade by me Fox pin: gift from Little Rose Planet Earrings: handmade from real nuts by a friend Pretzel: handmade from a real pretzel (Design Festa) Anko toast and basket brooches: Artists from Design Festa Ladybug on leaf brooch: gift from a friend Flowers are all from my flower comb/pins collection (no brand) Umbrella/parasol: some shop in Montreal over 10 years ago (I can't remember)

[lokisgoodgirl]

A Lot of Boning [Asgard!Loki Oneshot]

A Link to My Masterlist is HERE Summary: Asgard!Loki loses bet and must wear a corset on a night out. Loki is very pleased about this. (w/c 2.5k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki/corsets. Smuttish. Language. Heavy petting. Spoiled, flirty prince behaviour. Stupid stuff. Ridiculous HC lore. Asgardian crones. A/N: That tik tok wouldn't leave my brain. Sorry folks.

“A-HA, brother...you have been bested most thoroughly!” Thor’s voice boomed around the pillars, spilling over the balcony. Loki raised an eyebrow, stiffening and clenching his fists while a smile threatened to betray him.

“Indeed, brother” he purred bitterly, making sure he sounded surprised. "How awful."

In the training courtyard below, Sif held Volstagg pinned to the ground, her sword inescapably pointed to his throat. “It seems I underestimated her.” “And what of the bet, then?” Fandral coo-d, his face emerging between the brothers shoulders. Loki shot a questioning glance at the thin fingers now curled around his triceps, before looking to their owner. “I shall adhere to the stakes agreed. Obviously.”

Thor clapped Fandral on the back, chuckling loudly and shaking his head.

“Brother no one expects you to parade the Asgardian night taverns wearing a corset. Norns, Fandral was only joking. Weren’t you, Fandral?” Fandral smirked, reaching for his goblet. He tipped it briefly towards them both, before sipping.

Loki studied the man’s face, watching a tinge of pink creeping up his neck. He tilted his head.

“I very much think he was not joking, brother” Loki said calmly, seeing Thor’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye. “But never let it be said that a son of Odin reneges on his wagers.” “Loki you can’t be ser-” Loki held up a hand, eyes closed towards his brother’s protestations. “But your reputation...the scrolls of gossip which will circulate. Father." Thor's eyes widened. "Brother I implore yo-” “Enough,” Loki murmured malevolently, shooting Thor a silencing stare. The blonde’s lips hardened in a thin line, as the god of mischief shook dark hair back from his shoulders.

“The usual place?” he drawled, pushing himself away from the balustrade. Thor nodded reluctantly.

“Very well,” said Loki, with a feigned sigh of lament.

When he arrived to his chambers, the staff were dismissed with a wave of his hand.

All save one.

“Wait here,” he soothed as he passed her, trailing a knuckle down her bare bicep. Every goosebump he left in his wake was a promise. “I will have need of you.”

He smirked as she smoothed the front of her silken apron. Loki licked his lips at the memory of the taste of what lay beneath those skirts, already soaking for him he’d wager. That is a bet I wouldn’t intentionally lose, he mused as he threw open the ornate doors to his garment-room. Arms spread wide, he basked in the pungent smell of leather which overcame him. It was warm, and rich. Decadent, just like that chambermaid’s sweet little quim.

He clasped his hands ceremonially behind his back, pacing slowly forward. Loki enjoyed every faint rustle of his leather trousers, each measure thump of his boot on polished marble. The sound of his velvet-gloved fingers brushing together was like the flurry of a lovers skin. All these things and more, he always noticed in the moments before he disrobed. He could feel himself hardening already at the prospect of what was to come. The god smoothed his hair behind his ears and stretched in front of him, lacing his fingers. His knuckles cracked. He stretched his neck to one side, then the other; and with a parting of his digits – a secret compartment blossomed into view.

This was his very favourite selection of garments, each handmade by only the finest knobbled fingers among the Asgardian Crones.

Although responsible for all the royal families more intricate ceremonial costumery....these...they made only for him. For his cabinet of debauchery. And they were well rewarded.

He trailed the pads of his fingertips across displayed fabrics as he moved. Robes of chiffon and silk and leather which cut and hung to his body like honey, so much so that the very sight of his immortal frame wrapped in their embrace had been known to make his lover climax. Into every sinful negligee, every blindfold, every erotic ensemble, every fluttering tail in a well-worn crop; the Asgardian Crones had worked their spells.

‘Are you certain, my Prince,’ one had crooned doubtfully, craning closer to his sketch. Her fingers shook as she did so, tracing the lines of his elaborate request.

“Quite,” Loki had replied with the air of one who did not expect to be asked twice. She observed him craftily, creased skin trembling as one decrepit eyebrow rose. She’d always been a flirt.

“I’m not sure there’s time – tis a lot of boning, Prince Loki-” she hummed, coy undertones fresh even in the creak of her voice. He waved his hand dismissively with a sultry chuckle.

“The tales you could tell about boning, eyh Lagartha?” he purred wickedly. “I’ve heard the songs.” Lagertha’s wrinkled skin had flushed a pale pink as he’d leant across the large cutting table, ensuring to spread his fingers against the wood, making the veins she enjoyed in his hands flex.

She would be able to see down the loose tie of his tunic neckline, to the shifting ropes of muscle beneath. To his naval, most likely. The scent of him, the warmth, the pure essence of masculine, sexual power that flowed from his skin to her nostrils. He watched her cloudy pupils dilate.

A wolfish grin had spread his lips. “Or if you prefer...I could tell you some of mine” he’d winked.

The crone cleared her throat suddenly, hacking. “Are you alright, darling?” the Prince said with excruciating sensuality.

Lagertha hacked louder.

Two new crones had rounded the corner at an alarmingly slow pace. Loki rolled his eyes as they shuffled towards their ailing sister. Loki returned to a standing position. “I shall return next solstice to collect it,” Loki had said pointedly to Lagertha, making a show of stretching out each leather glove before pulling it on. He arched a brow.

Lagertha, close to expiration in her chair, nodded.

The other weavers shot him dirty looks as they began a lacklustre, synchronised fan of her face.

Loki had almost skipped back to his chambers that day. And now, as he rested his thumb beneath his chin in wonder at the finished article, he felt the same elation. He had waited for the perfect debut for this most treasured piece. Oh, how he had waited.

And finally, here it was.

Fandral thought to cast tarnish on his masculinity? On his virility? On his very power and reputation in this realm? Well, Loki thought with a smile as his eyes tracked every immaculate detail of the corset; he thinks wrong. His brother might be excused for being blinded to Loki’s ability to outplay any trickster-like attempts, but Fandral? Loki had given him far too much credit in the past, clearly.

To save time, Loki peeled the clothes from his body with magic. New garments unfurled around his limbs, having been drawn from the everyday closets outside. Tight dark chinos, and a thick cotton shirt; such a depth of green it was almost obsidian.

The thrill of unfamiliar Midgardian clothes on his body sent a shiver of anticipation up Loki’s spine. They were so light. Almost like being naked. If not for the tightness. His cock ached, heavy desire throbbing with renewed vigour. The demon thickened against his leg, each wince from the cotton pants making him hiss as he screwed his eyes shut in pleasure.

Migardians and their fascination with tightness, he mulled as he spun towards the flickering doorway.

“Girl?” he called expectantly. There was a pause, before the chambermaid’s brisk footsteps sounded, stopping abruptly in front of the door to the concealed portion of Loki’s closet. Her eyes were wide in wonder, gazing around until they stopped at his feet. She worked her way up his statuesque body, legs wide and triangular; arms crossed and straining against the shirt. “My P-prince,” she stammered, covering her eyes. Loki chuckled. “Come now, you don’t look this bashful when I come to you with sword in hand,” he teased as he straightened his back. She lowered her hands, revealing only her eyes. They shone. I really should move these ‘suits’ to the cabinet of debauchery, he pondered; watching the chambermaid squirm.

He suddenly wondered how she would fare on her knees, fumbling with the other-wordly zipper, biting her lip as she salivated impatiently for his cock. No time, he chided as he raised a hand, beckoning.

“I require your assistance with this,” he gestured to the side.

He didn’t. Not truly. But Loki Odinson knew how to wring every last screeching sliver of drama from a production. And after the time he had waited for this debut, he would make it drip until its last drop.

Her eyes grew wider. “Loki...” she murmured in awe, protocols forgotten.

The corset handcrafted by his loyal crones hung perfectly lit, showcased on the wall. Exquisite boning curved the sides, cutting inward at the perfect dimensions to cinch the sluttish nips of his taut waist.

The bodice was boned to perfection, thick strips of Nilfheimian narwal tusk holding shape. Golden flashes glinted at the shoulders, down the deep V of the neckline. His richest shade of royal green adorned the bodice, silken threads stitched so close it slid beneath the fingertips like polished glass.

“For what do you require my assistance, my Lord?” she murmured, letting her eyes fall wantonly to his curled lips. Loki slipped the corset from its display, swirling it elegantly over his arms and slotting it in place, much like a reverse waistcoat. “For this,” he said, spinning slowly on his heels. He raised his arms, raking his hair into a messy bun; fingers fastened to his scalp, exposing his neck.

The back of the corset splayed open. A long thread of ebony silk unfurled in Loki’s hand. One end of the ribbon poised upward from his palm like a snake, head pointed to the maid. It lunged towards her before stopping abruptly.

“Take it,” Loki smouldered, “it won’t bite.” The chambermaid’s trembling hands diligently wove the silk through the intricate holes of the corset, each pull of the length together making her groan gently against his back in spite of herself. She was taking her time, wondering at the creases of shirt beneath the boning. Wondering at him.

Loki’s eyes closed, the press of her fingertips between his shoulder-blades making fucking her over the nearest chaise greatly tempting. She pulled the binds tighter, looping strands with a final flourish. Loki hummed quietly, clenching. “I hope this is acceptable, my Prince” she murmured, trailing her fingers wilfully down the criss-cross of ribbon. Her breasts pushed flush to his spine, her words low and sultry. “I have not laced a corset since my lady Frigga’s.” “Do not speak of my mother,” Loki moaned quietly as he guided her hand to the crook of his thigh. His cock met her palm, the resulting squeeze rewarded with a buck of his hips. He spun towards her and guided her to the wall.

Her lungs emptied as he pressed to her, feeling her digits tugging gently at her handiwork. Loki could feel the boning press against her curves, the tight outline of his glamorous armour making her struggle for breath. His lips traced hers with the lightest of touches, her hot breath filling his throat. She thrust against the thigh pressed between her legs, gasping like a virgin as he nudged upwards to her sex.

“Pretty thing,” he whispered warm and wet into her ear. She whined, bucking against him. Loki released a dark chuckle. “Be here to undress me on my return.”

In Asgard’s busiest tavern, the evening’s festivities were in full swing. Thor stared into his tankard, watching thick bubbles pop lazily on the surface.

“Oh Fandral, what have we done?” he lamented, sliding a meaty palm further up his cheek. “He will be here at any moment. Reputation? Ruined.” Fandral scoffed, glancing at the door for the third time in as many minutes. “Do you think he’ll wear a garter?” announced Sif, swinging a leg over the bench with two large tankards in each fist. Volstagg spat ale in a cloud of laughter. "I bet he wears a garter," Sif continued seriously. "I hereby claim first attempt to rip it off with my teeth." "No fair," Fandral whined. “-Tis no matter of mirth,” Thor snapped loudly. Plates on the table rattled. Fandral patted his hand with a sigh. “Your brother knows us well enough. He is Asgard’s biggest tease. He will not wear ladies underthings - not in public anyway..." he paused, momentarily taken away. " I am most sure of it," he continued breezily. "Fragile masculinity, most likely.” But as he spoke, his face simmered with excitement.

Sif narrowed her eyes at him warily, realising in tandem with the others that the raucous tavern had grown quiet. The four of them spun to face the door, where a hundred other patrons also stared, transfixed.

“Brother?” Thor murmured disbelieving. But there, in all his splendour, was Loki.

The figure cut against the star-littered sky, the outline of his body as crisp and clear as carved marble. Thick curls spilled over his shoulders, fluttering in the nights chill. Long limbs strode rakishly over the paved floor, the click of his heels making onlookers jump as their arousal fizzed like malevolent static.

His cheekbones slashed, the determined set of his smoulder making him look like a king. A demon of the night.

Simply the sight of him moving across the floor made the captive audience hold its breath. The tight grip of the unfamiliar style of shirt to his muscles, the mercilessly cinched nip of his waist which exploded the breadth of his shoulders. A golden brooch in the crest of a snake was pinned to the centre of his chest, complimenting the lavish glint of the corset piping. The god of mischief's ordained colours were saturated by the auburn glow of candlelight. Loki smiled wickedly, winking at an unsuspecting woman grasping feverishly at her friend’s shoulder. He stood at the end of the table, spreading his arms wide before clasping them behind his back. “Well?” he asked smugly, giving them a slow spin. There were a series of thumps as members of the Asgardian public hit the floor. “You know midgardian garments are frowned upon,” Thor grumbled, casting glances over his shoulder. Loki rolled his eyes. “It’s about the ensemble, brother” he snipped. “Although I wouldn’t expect you to understand that.”

Fandral cleared his throat, standing and raising his cup towards the ceiling. “Prince Loki you look-”

“-Ravishing,” Loki drawled. “I know.” He cast a scathing glance down Fandral’s body, making his way leisurely back to his face. “Smarts, doesn’t it? To see me the victorious antithesis of your childish plot to humiliate me.” Sif snorted. “He just wanted to see you in a corset” she remarked, pushing her tankard from one hand to the other. Loki’s lips pursed, folding his arms as he spoke. “The evident stirring in his breeches betrays that much.” Fandral sat down immediately to the sound of raucous laughter round the table.

A crowd had begun to gather at a respectful distance around the dark prince, dozens of eyes combing over every deliciously wrapped inch of him. The air was bubbling with sexual energy. Hair on Loki’s arms bristled. He was just about to bestow greetings upon his inflamed public when Thor tugged his shirt sleeve.

“Brother, the gossip-scrolls will still remark on this…”

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes. “What care have I? I look incredible brother, as you well know. Desist with your petulant jealousy.” He straightened, enjoying the wistful longing in Thor’s gaze as it swung from Loki’s cinched trunk trussed in boning to the feral, shifting stares of his lustful devotees. And tonight, that was everyone it seemed.

Loki paced around the table, settling his hands on his wary brother's shoulders. “It was supposed to be funny” Thor grumbled, shaking his head while Fandral squirmed beside him. Loki’s mouth twitched in a knowing smile as he watched the man run his palms down his thighs repeatedly. Trying to distract himself. He lowered himself, hovering between Thor and his misguided best friend.

“The wager did not include that we were to wear lace and brassiere and frill and garter. Although I do have those effects in my personal collection, too.”

He winked at Fandral, who flushed crimson.

The god of thunder folded his arms. “It’s just very...you” he whined. The envy, Loki mused, is palpable. His fingers curled around Fandral’s bicep, giving him a knowing squeeze. “Exactly, brother” Loki whispered with finality in his siblings ear. The triumphant god straightened before raising his arms. Dying embers nestling in the tavern fireplaces roared to life at the command. Tonight, he was a king. And the squeals of the crowd grew to a roar.

-

Tags (contd in comments x) @lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @fandxmslxt69 @icytrickster17 @multifandom-worlds @morgan-wolf @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @vanilla-daydreaming

[crazyunsexycool]

My Little Love

💖It's Valentine's Day 💖

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word count: 2.1K

warning: none this is just some pure fluff. Maybe Lottie trying to play cupid....

A/N: I wasn't going to write anything for Valentine's Day but I was inspired by @jvanilly 's ask so here it is.

Series masterlist

“Dada no wook.” Charlotte says loudly as she hides around the corner from the living room. 

“Should I close my eyes, doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

“Ok, they’re closed.” Bucky says with a smile at whatever it is that Lottie is up to now. He can hear her footsteps although they’re light against the hardwood floors. 

“Ok wook it.” 

Bucky opens his eyes to find Charlotte standing in front of him wearing a white shirt with a big pink heart, a pink tutu and white fluffy wings that look like they belong to angels on her back. Her hair is up in a twist held up in a heart shaped clip.

“Who do we have here? Are you Cupid?” 

“Mmhhmmm. You wike it?” She asks as she does a spin for him to see the whole outfit. 

“You’re the prettiest Cupid I’ve ever seen, doll.” 

Lottie gets bashful and giggles at the compliment. 

“Habe suwpwise.” 

“For me?” 

Lottie nods her head and holds out a handmade card for him. It’s a heart cut out of red construction paper glued to a white piece of paper and so much glitter. 

“This is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen. Did you make this yourself?”

“Yeah.” She says shyly while looking up at him with those big blue eyes of hers. 

“Thank you, doll. I love it.” Bucky picks her up and gives her a chaste kiss on her forehead.

“Dada?”

“Yeah, doll?” 

“Dada be my vawentine?”

Bucky smiles down at his little girl. “I would love to be your valentine. Are you going to be mine?”

“Yeah. I be dada’s vawentine.”

“Good. Your first valentine’s day has to be special.” 

****

“Hi mama.” Henry said almost as soon as you stepped out of the master bedroom. 

“Hi sweet boy. What are you up to?” 

“Nothing. Well something.” Henry gives you a sheepish look. 

You narrow your eyes in his direction with a bit of suspicion. But his innocent smile let you know whatever he’s up to isn’t anything mischievous. Henry holds up a construction paper heart, and a few paper flowers. 

“Will you be my valentine’s mama?” 

“I would love to be your valentine.” You accept the flowers and the cards before giving him a hug. “Are you going to be my valentine’s too?”

Henry nods against your midsection before pulling away. 

“Well we have to make your first valentine’s day super special, sweet boy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

At Charlotte’s request you had curled her hair, pinning half of it up with heart shaped pins. You even let her wear a pink tinted lip balm and some soft pink eyeshadow. She was all smiles as she looked in the mirror. 

“Do you like it, sweet angel? You look beautiful.” You said from behind her. Looking at her through the mirror.

“Is so pwetty mama.” 

“I’m glad you like it. Now come on, let's get your dress and shoes on.”

“Kay.” Lottie hops off the stool she was sitting on and gets dressed up in her pink tulle dress with hearts all over. 

“Alright, I’m going to finish getting ready ok.”

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

“Alright bubs.” Bucky fixes the collar of Henry’s shirt so that it goes over his graphic tee. Then he smoothes out the cardigan Henry was wearing. “When we knock we give them the flowers and chocolates ok? Also remember to tell them how nice they look.”

“Yup.” 

“Let’s go get our girls then.” Bucky smiles as Henry grabs the flowers that he had picked out himself. 

Bucky follows suit and they walk out of Steve’s apartment where they went to get dressed. Giving you and Lottie privacy to have your own girl’s day as you got ready for the family date. 

At the door Henry knocks and waits for someone to answer the door. Lottie opens it with a huge smile on her face. It’s obvious she’s more than ready and excited for the evening. She lets Henry and Bucky in to wait for you to finish getting ready.

“Hi bubba. Hi dada.” She says. 

“Hi baby. You look so pretty.”

“Tank you bubba.”

“Hello my valentine. You look like a princess.” Bucky takes a knee. 

“Tank you dada.”

“These are for you.” Bucky holds out a small bouquet of flowers for her and a box of chocolates. 

Charlotte gasps as she takes her gifts. She buries her nose in the flowers and inhales just how she has seen you do so many times. 

“Is so nice dada, tank you.” 

“You’re welcome, doll.” 

You walk out a few minutes later, just as Bucky is putting Lottie’s flowers in a vase for her. He lets out a wolf whistle as he watches you reach the living room. You wore a red dress, the sleeves were short but puffy. The bodice hugged your curves and the skirt flared out with a slit up one leg. You smile over your shoulder at Bucky before turning your attention to Henry. 

“Hi my sweet valentine.” You tell him.

“Hi mama, you look very pretty.” 

“Thank you, sweet boy.” You smile before giving him a chaste kiss on his cheek. 

“These are for you.” 

Henry holds out a box of chocolate and a bouquet of flowers similar to Lottie’s, just a bit bigger. 

“They’re beautiful. Thank you so much. I love them. We have something for you too.” 

Lottie runs off into your room coming back with some boxes of candy for them as well. It’s obvious that Henry and Bucky weren’t expecting anything so it was nice to see their matching smiles.

“Here,” Bucky offers you a vase with water in it already. 

“Thanks baby.” 

You place the flowers in the vase and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“We should get going.”

“Yeah,” Henry adds. “We have reservations.” 

“Oh you do?” 

“Yup. It's for our date.” 

“I thought we were just going to Tony’s party?” You look up at Bucky who is already helping Lottie into her coat. 

“Well it wouldn’t be a proper date if we didn't take our girls out first now would it?” 

You smile and grab something from your purse. When you stand in front of Bucky you place a red pocket square into his suit pocket. As usual he dressed in an all black suit and a more casual black t-shirt. The red added a little pop of color to tie in everyone’s outfit together. 

“Here mama.” Henry, following Bucky’s lead, holds out your coat.

“Well what a little gentleman.” 

You put on your coat and let them lead you and Lottie out.

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

It was still new, the four of you going out as a family. The kids were always excited going out to new places and experiencing new things. Bucky stopped the car at the entrance to the restuarant. The attendant makes his way over quickly to the driver’s side. Bucky steps out and gets the door for Lottie who was sitting behind him. Henry quickly gets out of his seat and gets out to open your door. 

“Thank you my sweet boy.”

“You’re welcome, mama.” He says as he takes your hand. 

The four of you walk into the building. Before you can say anything Henry steps up to the hostess stand.

“Hi ma’am.”

“Hello, how may I help you?” The young woman asks with a smile.

“We have a reservation under Barnes.” 

You couldn’t help but beam as Henry started to get more comfortable interacting with strangers. 

“I see the reservation for four people here. Please follow me.” The young woman walks you through the restaurant to a booth in the back. “Enjoy your evening.”

Lottie sits with Bucky and you sit with Henry. While the restaurant is full of couples you wouldn’t trade being here with the kids. You knew you’d share more than enough one on one time with Bucky later. The four of you have the time of your life at the restaurant. The kids try new foods and get loved on by you and Bucky. They also have the attention of the server that’s taking care of your table. She makes sure to ask them questions, getting the most interesting questions out of Lottie for sure. You can’t help but look across to Bucky and share that magic little moment in which you both relish in being able to enjoy this moment with them. Soon enough though dinner is over and you head back to the tower. 

~~~~~~~~~

Before heading to the party Charlotte insists on going back to the apartment for her cupid getup. Soon enough there’s a four year old running into the main living room with wings and bow and arrow. Her first stop of course is her favorite person ever.

“Steebie am cupid.” She says as he picks her up. 

“And a very cute cupid at that.” 

“Hi.” Lottie calls out to Bruce’s assistant. 

“Hello Charlotte. You look very pretty in your dress.” 

“Tank you. You pwetty too, wight Steebie?” Steve goes beet red in an instant.

“Of course. Your dress is very pretty.” Steve looks at her.

“No Steebie.” Charlotte sends a small glare in his direction. Lottie says her name, “Is pwetty.”

“Please don’t.” She mutters.

“No is kay. Steebie?”

“Yes, you are very pretty.” 

She opens her mouth ready to sass him back but decides against it due to Lottie’s enthusiasm. 

“Thank you, Steve.” 

Lottie feels as if she’s done her job so she wiggles her way out of Steve’s arm’s and does her usual round through the party. 

****

Bucky holds you close as he leads you in a dance. One hand around your waist, the other holding yours against his chest. His cheek rests against your temple. Both of your eyes are closed as he hums along to the song. 

“Hold me close and hold me fast

The magic spell you cast

This is la vie en rose.

When you kiss me heaven sighs

And though I close my eyes

I see la vie en rose.”

You smile as Bucky continues to serenade you. The song ends but another quickly starts up. Your dancing is interrupted though. 

“Daddy, mama is my valentine. I should be dancing with her.” Henry looks up at him, arms crossed over his chest.

“Ok, ok. Do you happen to know where your sister is?” 

Henry points to the other end of the room. You and Bucky look over to find Charlotte sitting on the bar sharing a cupcake with Sam and laughing. 

“I guess I’ll go get my valentine. Thanks for the dance, Sugar.” Bucky gives you a quick kiss.

“Wanna dance mama?”

“I would love to.” You say as Henry takes your hands and swaying side to side.

****

“Is so yummy Sammy.” Lottie holds up a cupcake with red frosting up for Sam to try. 

Sam narrows his eyes in her direction causing Lottie to giggle. “Are you trying to play a joke on me?” 

“Noooooo. Habe some.”

“Ok.” Sam leans in to take a bite out of the sweet treat but Lottie boops him in the nose with it leaving frosting behind. She throws her head back laughing while Sam playfully grumbles. 

“Is so funny.” 

“Oh you think that's funny?” Sam asks and Lottie nods. “What if I do this?” He takes a big bite of the cupcake she had in her hand. “No cupcake for you.” 

Charlotte is a giggling mess as she grabs another treat from the tray Sam had taken just for them. 

“Are you trying to steal my doll?” Bucky asks as he walks up to them. 

“Maybe I am.” 

“Habe one dada?” Lottie holds up another cupcake for him. He’d seen what she did to Sam and was sure she’d do the same to him. But the laughter was worth a little bit of red frosting on his nose. 

“I would love one.” 

Lottie pulls at the cupcake liner with heart designs on them, then offers it up to Bucky. He’s surprised when Lottie doesn’t try to get the frosting on him so he just eats it.

“Hey,” Sam says with a faux annoyed expression. “Why didn’t you get him?” 

“Dada my vawentine.” She looks up at her dad with so much love that it makes him weak in the knees. 

“Yeah Sam, I’m her Valentine’s go get your own.” He looks back at his little girl. “Wanna dance, Doll?” 

“Yes, pwease.” 

Lottie gives Sam a kiss on the cheek before going into her father’s arms. Bucky walks over to the dance floor and begins to sway. Not too far from him, you stand with Henry in your own dance. You catch each other’s eye and smile. He mouths an I love you which you return. 

All in all it was a very good Valentine’s Day. 

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[onsunnyside]

So while stepdad!aus aren’t my cup of tea I will posit the question to the group….

Isn’t Lloyd Hansen a very stepdad type of guy that gets into the family for some work purpose but ends up walking away with you? He’s just giving the vibe 😳

dear goodness… all holy beings look away

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | stepdad!Lloyd Hansen x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | age gap, stepcest, possessive behaviour, smut - minors dni, unprotected sex (p in v), daddy kink, spitting, lots of cum, breeding kink, overstimluation, p*ssy slapping, finger sucking, some praise, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, smidge of tear licking, squirting, creampie(s). 

𝗪/𝗖 | 1510

🍆 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“T-Too full,” you try to get away, clawing at the bed sheets as his thick, red tip prods at your creamy hole, “can’t—not again.”

“You can,” Lloyd spits on your cunt as if you weren’t already a wet, sticky mess. His head traces up and down your slit, paying extra attention to your sensitive clit. “Remember? You promised me a special gift for Father’s Day.”

Through blurry vision, you spot the handmade card and photo album on his nightstand. That was the gift you spent weeks making, between fussing (and failing) with the card multiple times, and collecting and arranging the perfect album of your stepfather, Lloyd has been in the back of your mind in more ways than one. 

The gift wasn’t your idea, it was your mother’s. She wanted Lloyd to feel welcomed to the family despite it all being business, just a marriage between two of the city’s most influential people for security, power and status. 

She wanted him to feel at home and ultimately, like he belonged. And to do that, she wanted you to be a sweetheart, to create and gift it to him yourself. 

“He’s your stepfather and the reason we aren’t back in that terrible place again.”

You know she didn’t think he’d fuck you in their shared bed. 

“Remember when you used to avoid me? Go out whenever I was home, I heard you even wanted to skip the wedding.” He whispers in your ear, the low creamy tone makes you melt. “Thought you hated me—now look at you, taking my cock like a good girl.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down as he pounds into your sloppy cunt. “So full of my cum, you gonna let me fill you up again, sunshine?”

“Didn’t hate you…” You trail off to a moan as he kisses your jaw, slowly working down your neck. 

“Well, you didn’t like me either.” Lloyd murmurs against your skin, groaning as your legs wrap around his hips and pull him deeper. “Fuck—you were such a daddy’s girl, huh? Didn’t want me taking his spot?” 

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sold on the newest addition to your family, especially so soon after your parents divorce and your father’s arrest. Regardless of how grateful your mother, and the rest of your siblings were, and Lloyd’s reputation and wealth, this new man would never amount to your father. 

But as your mother stated, you needed the label, protection, and image. 

She was a woman who never faltered, even with the rumors of her cheating husband, and his untimely arrest for fraud. She will stand unwavered, and unaffected by the publicity. 

She remains steady with resolve, and will happily marry another high status man within a few months. Even if that man happened to be far worse than your father, neck deep in shady businesses and bad things. To the public, Lloyd was a clean, sophisticated CEO who was the perfect replacement for your cheating and lying father. 

Right now, he’s your stepfather fucking you into the bed he shares with your mother, pumping you with another load while you squirt all over his length. He doesn’t stop or slow down, if anything, the oversensitivity makes him more ravenous. He loves watching you tremble on his cock, caught between begging for a break and pleading for more. 

Your arms shoot out, yanking him down for a messy kiss full of clashing teeth and warm breaths. “Wanted you so badly. Please—don’t stop.” You moan, twitching under him when he pulls out, plugging you with the heavy tip before ramming forward. 

With every thrust, your head brushes the headboard. Lloyd fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat girth, he wants to mark you from the inside out. Your cries are music to his ears, he wishes he could watch his cum dribble out around his dick, and smear down your ass to the once-clean sheets. But, he doesn’t want to move, this position with your breasts against his chest, your fingers digging into his shoulders, and your pulsating walls milking his cock—if he had a choice, he’d never move. 

“I know, your new daddy knows, baby.” He coos, lowering his body until his balls touch the filthiness between your thighs. He’s pressed to the hilt, you can practically feel him in your guts. With slow grinds, he watches as you sink into the mattress, small hiccuping breaths escape your parted lips. “Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to fuck you. They don’t know how to stretch out this little pussy, make you a stupid mess—bet they leave you high and dry.” 

You can’t do anything but take his pounding, tears trailing down your face as he rams into your spot. Your whole body tenses, and your cunt sucks him deeper, hungry for more despite there being no room left. Squelching noises bounce off the walls and make you cover your face, weeping into your hands as he splits you apart. 

He leans back, and between your fingers, you watch his abs flex and his neck tense. A guttural groan rumbles from within his chest, a stark contrast to your blubbering of daddy, daddy, daddy. Lloyd moves your hands and brings one to his mouth, sucking your fingers and swirling his tongue. 

“You’re going to come for me again.” 

You immediately shake your head, but make no movements to escape, all too lost in the pleasure. Your hand is pulled from his mouth soaked with his salvia, and as if in slow motion, you watch him bring it to your cunt—and that’s when you try to get away. 

Lloyd easily tugs you back, pounding harder and deeper. He’s rearranging your insides, pulling you to meet his thrusts, then reaching down to collect your cream that’s formed a ring around his base. He shoves his fingers between your lips, fucking your mouth as a mixture of your salvia and arousal drip from the corners of your lips. 

“Look at you, getting fucked from both ends. All that’s missing is something in your ass.” He hooks your knee over his shoulder, stretching your sore hole, and exposing yourself to the hot air. You can only imagine how filthy you look down there. “Slap your clit before I do it for you.” 

The next few moments have faded into one. Between his unrelenting thrusts shoving your sweaty body higher on the bed, and his demands of harder, and to spank your clit until it hurts—you fall over the egde again. 

“I know no one knows how to make you do that. That’s it, such a good girl for daddy.” He leans back, watching you squirt and cover his lower half in your release. Your whole body convulses as a silent mewl pours from your mouth, tears of pleasure and pain stream down your face. His thrusts have slowed into thorough grinds as sticky strings connect your most intimate parts. 

You allow him to move you as he pleases, dragging out your orgasm as it bleeds into another—you can barely breathe as he rubs your sore clit, his rough fingertips are cruel on your overworked button.

His face his inches away and blush blooms over his skin. “I’m going to leave your mother, and you’re going to come with me.” He promises, swooping down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks. Lloyd can’t reisst licking a few. “You’re going to be my little wife, and I’m going to fuck you like this everyday, fill this tight cunt with my cum, and you’re going to make me a real daddy.” 

His hips rail forward as you lay a limp mess, still crying as he pumps you full. His cum spurts along your sore walls, trying to find space but there isn’t any left, and it seeps out around his girth, leaking down your ass and his heavy balls. These sheets will never be saved.  

Then, the door downstairs opens, and your mother’s voice rings out. 

Lloyd pulls back with a smile, sweat brimming at his hairline. “Looks like it’s time to share the news, pumpkin.” He takes pride in your dazed expression, you probably can't even hear him now, let alone process his words. Slowly, he starts fucking his cum into you, desperate to knock you up for the final nail in the coffin of his marriage to your mother.

Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your Lloyd-filled thoughts. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt so good. 

Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your core, marking you with his scent and presence. Each grind sends shocks throughout your body, your pussy is a pathetic mess—there’s no doubt that he’s got you pregnant already—and that brief realization shoves you deeper under the surface of pleasure. 

Lloyd groans as you start to meet his motion, although weak and stuttering, you silently tell him you want him too. “Or maybe, she should catch us, hm? Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

[celtic-crossbow]

The Rhythm of this Trembling Heart

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France)

Warnings: None

Summary: There isn’t anything Daryl wouldn’t do for you.

A/N: Happy (late) Halloween. Sorry it’s late. Regardless, the song attached is what I imagined toward the end. You’ll know it when you read it.

Halloween was in full swing! The community was alive with music and activities and best of all: costumes! Some were brought back from supply runs while others were handmade. Kids were out engaging in the age old tradition of trick-or-treat. It was surreal. 

It was just past dark, the activities for the younger ones winding down while celebrations for adults were just beginning. Several smaller parties were happening in individual residences but the masquerade ball— Ezekiel’s idea, of course— was where most were attending. 

But not Daryl. 

He was out making sure everything was safe while the adults of the community were otherwise occupied. There were guards on duty but he had special people here that he just couldn’t leave their safety to anyone other than himself. Jude and RJ were at their individual friends’ homes. Carol was at the ball. He didn’t know if you were going. While everyone else had been planning their attire, you had volunteered to help sew costumes for the kids. 

He had never been much for Halloween. No costumes or candy, just bruises and shouting matches. When he was older, it was pizza, beer, and maybe a movie. He could see the appeal if he really thought about it. One night to be anyone or anything else. He could definitely get behind that. 

“Yo, Dixon!”

He paused mid-step, hoping to god that the voice he’d heard was in his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Princess. She was a good person with a good heart. She was just… a lot. 

“I know you hear me, man!”

With a sigh, he finally stopped and turned, giving her a nod in greeting while she bounced up to him with her usual attempt at a hug, stopping with her hands up when he stepped back. 

“Still not a hugger. Respected.”  She was dressed in a black gown, frilly and lacy, but with her own Princess touch of pink rhinestones pressed into the waist and collar. Her hair was pinned up with a pink ribbon weaving throughout. “You’re not really dressed for the party. I mean, I guess you could wear that as long as you have a mask but it wouldn’t take much to guess who you are and that’s kinda the point of—”

Daryl raised his palms as well as his eyebrows, already exasperated. “Ain’t goin’ but hope ya have a good time.” With a squeeze to her shoulder and a curt nod, he turned to take his leave. 

“Y/N’s gonna be there.” 

He found himself stopping again, looking back over his shoulder. Princess was leaning out like she had expected his reaction, a huge grin on her pretty face. 

“So?” He tried to act like he didn’t care when he really wanted to know everything. Daryl cared deeply for you, having been close to you since the quarry. You had been the only person other than Carol to refuse letting him isolate himself, the only difference being Carol encouraged him to be a part of the group whereas you plopped yourself right down in his space and refused to leave. 

His feelings toward you had only intensified over the years. It used to make him uncomfortable because he didn’t understand it. He feared it. So, he had pushed you away, but you never strayed far. You had always been waiting for him with open arms, ready to forgive and forget. 

He was still scared, truth be told. It was the only reason he hadn’t had a very important conversation with you and asked you to be his. 

“So.” Princess mocked in a deep voice before laughing at herself and waving a dismissive hand. “I’m just playin’, man. Anyone with eyes can see you got it bad, dude!”

“I don’t got—”

“Don’t even try.” She shook her head with a little more enthusiasm than necessary. “Go change. Come to the party. She’ll appreciate the hell out of that.”

“Don’t do costumes. Even if I did, I ain’t got none.” He shrugged. Daryl and social events were not allies. He wouldn’t even know where to start for something like this. 

“Oh, I gotcha, man.” She held her Venetian stick mask up over her eyes with a daunting smile. “Just leave it all to me.”

How had he let Princess, of all people, talk him into this? 

She had all but dragged him back to her apartment, telling him to shower while she went through the rejected items she had picked for Mercer. He had never felt more uncomfortable in his entire life. 

Well, that is, until he was standing in front of the mirror while she adjusted the white mask, hiding the bands expertly within his hair, which she had combed and slicked back. 

“This is a masterpiece.” She was staring, wide-eyed and big-grinned, rubbing her hands together like she had just successfully animated Frankenstein’s monster. 

Daryl’s eyebrows shot up, though he could only see one. The mask covered the right side of his face. She had him in a white button-up and black slacks. The black boots were shiny and he hated that the black gloves actually covered his fingers. Almost everything was at least one size too big but manageable. Still, nothing made his lip curl more than the cape she had secured beneath the collar of the shirt. 

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere in this shit.”

“Oh, come on, man. It’s very Phantom of the Opera!” Princess beamed. 

Daryl scowled even harder. “I definitely ain’t goin’ nowhere in this shit.” 

“Dude, I’m telling you, she’s gonna swoon when she sees you. And you’ll match her!” She argued, absently plucking at the edge of the cape. 

“Ya seen her?” The archer met her eyes in the mirror. 

“Oh yeah. She looked—” Princess kissed her fingertips and thrust them outward in a chef’s kiss. 

Daryl’s eyes moved back to his own reflection and he sighed. He was about to make an absolute fool of himself, but at least he was doing it for you. 

He was on his third cigarette. Princess had wished him luck and already disappeared through the door to find Mercer, leaving Daryl alone with his thoughts and anxiety. What if you were there with someone? Princess didn’t seem to think so but the last thing he wanted to do was fuck up your evening. 

He tapped his gloved fingertips against the wall behind him, the other hand plucking the smoke from between his lips to flick it away. It was time to find his balls and go inside. If he didn’t, he looked like an idiot and he was a pussy. 

With a deep breath, he ascended the stairs to the door, nodding back at the guy who opened it for him. 

“Hey, Dixon. Have fun in there!”

“Fun. Right.” Daryl saved his confused expression for once the door had closed behind him. The guy had worked with him under Mercer. He couldn’t understand why there hadn’t been immediate laughter and punchlines at his expense. 

“Daryl?”

He raised his eyes to find Carol lowering her stick mask. She looked beautiful, her blue gown simple but elegant. Her hair had been styled delicately, the short curls even more defined than usual. 

“Uhh, yeah. S’me.” He scratched a nonexistent itch on the back of his neck. “Ya look pretty.”

“Thank you but let’s talk about you. Who did this cause I know it wasn’t you.”

The archer tried to wrinkle his nose in a sneer but it was difficult with the mask pressed to one side of his face. “Ya don’t think I could do this myself?” Carol put her hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. “Was Princess.” He admitted rather quickly, his nerves wearing a hole through his chest. 

The silver haired woman gave him a gentle smile, reaching out to squeeze his bicep. “She did good.” Her name was called from somewhere in the crowd, her head turning so she could search. “Try to have some fun.” She took his hand and gave it a squeeze before heading into the main room where people were all standing around talking, aside from those dancing in the very middle. 

He watched as Carol made her way around the outside of the crowd, pausing to lean into a tight circle. He recognized Gabriel immediately. Even at a masquerade party, he wore that god awful hat. Daryl could barely see who Carol was speaking with, but she was leaned in close and, to his horror, was looking directly at him as she spoke. She winked and held her mask up, walking away just as you leaned out and locked gazes with him. The way your face lit up made his heart stutter and his stomach do cartwheels. 

You turned to apparently excuse yourself and then you were heading to him. Princess had been right. 

You were a fucking vision. 

Your dress was black, with a bouffant style skirt and corset top. The thin straps could be seen under lace that covered your arms and dipped into a v at your neck. Your hair was piled atop your head with elegant curls hanging down in places, accenting the black lace Venetian mask attached to your face with a ribbon that disappeared into your hair. 

“Daryl?” You beamed, your heels click-clacking on the shiny floor. “Daryl, you look amazing!” You laughed, the smile brighter than he’d ever seen it. The archer had utterly forgotten how to form words, completely lost in the ethereal beauty standing in front of him. You laughed again and touched his forearm. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah!” He answered suddenly before clearing his throat. “Yeah, m’good. You, uh—ya look—” He trailed off when suddenly words like ‘beautiful’ and ‘gorgeous’ didn’t seem good enough to describe you. “Wow.”

“Pfft.” You chuckled, closing in to give him a hug. “I can’t believe you came. This is the best Halloween ever!” Daryl didn’t waste any time returning the embrace. He could smell your shampoo and whatever product you had used to style your hair. Vanilla. “Come on, let’s go hang out with everyone! They’ve gotta see this!”

You took his hand in yours and pulled but he didn’t move. When you looked back, he was staring at the crowd behind you with a painful look of uncertainty. Your eyes softened, understanding that just standing where he was had to be ridiculously outside of his comfort zone. You weren’t sure why he had come but you were damn sure not going to let it be a bad experience for him. Biting your lip, you glanced at the door leading to the upper level. 

“Do you trust me?” You asked him, squeezing his hand. 

“More than anyone.” He replied quickly but quietly. 

“Good!” You pulled him toward the door and away from the crowd, leaning out to make sure the security guards weren’t watching. Finding them agonizing over what hors d’oeuvres they might want from the tray, you opened the door and ushered Daryl in first before following and quietly closing it. You couldn’t suppress your hushed giggles as the two of you ascended the stairs, even finding yourself shushing him when he hadn’t made a single sound. “How’s this? Better?”

The upper level balcony overlooked the ballroom below, the acoustics allowing the music to be heard clearly but not the chatter of the crowd. Daryl leaned over to look over the people below, but quickly stepped back so as not to be noticed. 

“Much better.”

“Good.” You said, plopping down on an expensive looking chaise sofa to remove your heels. “My feet are killing me.” When the archer simply nodded, you pursed your lips over a barely contained smile. “Come here.” You said, actually moving toward him before he could comply. “I know you are hating this thing, so since I took off my shoes…” you trailed off, pulling the string that secured the cape. It pooled on the ground behind his feet. 

“Feel at least like I may deserve my balls back now.” He gave you a small half smile when you laughed and smacked his chest. When silence fell again, you found yourself just watching him and him, you. 

“Dance with me?”

His eyes widened, the side of his face that you could see turning a pale pink. “I don’t dance.”

“Can’t?”

“Don’t.”

“You do now.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him a little closer to the middle of the balcony, encircling your arms around his neck. He gave you a look that lasted only a moment before his hands landed on your waist. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a simple slow rocking like you see teenagers do at prom. Still, it had your heart fluttering. “I’m glad you came.” 

“Me too.”

“What made you decide to, anyway?” You tilted your head, looking up at him while your fingers toyed with his hair. He didn’t answer. He just stared at you. 

Oh. 

“You did all this for me?” 

He didn’t trust his voice so he simply nodded. 

“Daryl?”

“Yeah?”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” Your eyes flitted down to his lips and back up to his eyes. He didn’t give you the chance. He closed the distance between you and pressed his mouth to yours. It was gentle, almost seeming shy, but it was perfect. All too soon, you separated, your wet eyes sparkling as you watched him for any signs of regret. 

You found none. 

Throughout, you had never stopped dancing. It was maybe the most perfect first kiss you could have ever imagined.

“I lied. Now, it’s the best Halloween ever.” You sniffled with a smile, laying your head against his shoulder. 

“Yeah. It sure is.” He agreed. You felt his cheek rest on the top of your head. “Tell anyone an’ I’ll still hafta kill ya.”

“What? That you kissed me?”

“Nah, that I was dancin’.”

You laughed and kissed him again. 

[speakeasyaoi]

Rocky Rickaby x GN!Reader

> Requested by @d144-catzie | A bit shorter and messier than I'd like it to be, schoolwork got in the way :P

PROMPT: Rocky is in a close friendship with the reader that looks more like a couple at first, and has the beginning buds of a romantic relationship.

Rocky has a tendency to be extremely clingy and attached from the minute he meets you, especially so if he finds himself attracted and crushing on you. He ends up finding every excuse he can to spend some quality time with you, be it skipping out on work at his own expense and following you around at your heels like a stray pup, or dragging you along by your scruff on his chaotic escapades- He's constantly craving your presence, and he'll scrape together any opportunity he can to get it.

Rocky just adores both giving and recieving physical affection, and it's fit to make him burst with excitement nearly every time without fail. He tends to avoid things like chaste kisses and handholding in fear of seeming too forward, but he's more than open to ruffling your hair, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, patting your back or walking by your side with your elbows interlocked. Maybe he sneaks a hand on your waist or your hip as you're walking together, or hugs you for just a little longer than what might be considered platonic, but nothing too drastic. When he hugs you, he totally does the thing where he sways you side to side or lifts you up and spins you around.

He tries to talk you into getting some kind of matching article of clothing with him; matching neckties with your initials on them, matching bracelets he can wear under his sleeve or lapel pins he can wear alongside his Lackadaisy pin, he really isn't picky. Though, doesn't have the money to afford to buy you something of the quality he thinks you deserve, so it's probably going to be handmade. ...Or stolen. One of the two.

It's a fun pastime of his to tell you long, over-exagerrated stories of his life- including anything during his youth, adolescence, his time spent travelling around the states in search of work, and earlier years spent working for Lackadaisy with Zib's band. His storytelling skills are nothing short of grand and over-the-top, and he'd be ecstatic to ramble on to you over a shared platter of pancakes or a brisk walk through St. Louis if you'll let him. Fair warning, you're not going to be able to shut him up.

It's often he'll invite you over to Lackadaisy to watch him play his violin, and if not there, he just takes you to a nice, secluded area where he can show you without interruption. Most of what he plays is upbeat, spritely instrumentals or brief little tunes, but every once in a while he'll work up the confidence to sing you a ballad with vague lyrics that seem to apply to you a bit too well.

Similarly to how he calls Calvin Freckle, Ivy Miss Pepper, and Mitzi Miss M, he can't help but come up with a fun, sweet little nickname to call you, mainly serving to take the place of the more romantic terms of endearment he wishes he could call you without coming on too strong. But for now, what he's chosen works.

There's a 100% chance that Rocky's going to try and sweet-talk his way into staying with you in your home instead of continuing to live in his car. He'll beg and whine and plead and hug you tight once you finally give in, agreeing to crash on the living room couch. Though, if you aren't careful enough, he's probably going to end up sleeping in your bed one way or another. Oh well!

If you're able and willing, Rocky takes to teaching you how to play the violin. In all honesty, he makes a pretty shitty teacher, but he tries his damn hardest to help you with the very basics at the least. He also can't help but use it as an opportunity to be close with you, laying his hands over yours as he guides you into playing the right notes and holding the violin in the right position, peppering words of praise an encouragement all throughout.

Other notes: I struggled to keep this one not overly romantic, but still close and fluffy enough to stick to the prompt, this should be fine. I'm also probably going to keep to a range of 8-15 bulletpoints moving forward to speed up the time it takes to get to each post and keep me from burning myself out lol

[bruisedboys]

hey, congrats!! totally deserved AND your celly theme is super cute!! So so so sorry this is super long

SPIDERHEAD, drabbles ─── send in a thought/headcanon you have about a character and I’ll expand on it in a drabble!

This is totally self indulgent but!! Hobie is such a craft guy. It’s totally punk, obviously, DIY that shit!! He maybe won’t call them dates out loud, because labels or something, but he invites you on crafting dates, he’s got boxes of materials and trinkets—beads, buttons, bottle caps, sewing supplies, glue, you name it. Crafting dates are the greatest because making things with/for people you really like can be so intimate

I’ve also been spending my last few days making pins, and tonight, I accidentally sliced my fingertips with an exacto—I think Hobie’s crafting supplies and his suspiciously well-stocked first aid supplies are near eachother for convenience when crafting and totally not because he has a super secret spider-man alter ego

no because ur so right anon

hobie brown is such a crafty guy!!!! you would think he thinks it’s lame and nerdy cos he’s such a cool guy but honestly he thinks it’s totally punk. he for sure is always cutting up his clothes, adding pins to them, making them look better and more unique because why would you want to dress the same as everyone else? he has a bunch of unfinished projects around his place, a vest he was adding patches to or a pair of jeans he was drawing spiderwebs all over in permanent marker but never got round to finishing. sometimes he’ll buy something just for the sake of cutting it up and ruining it (aka, making it better).

when he finds out you’re into crafts too — maybe he compliments a piece of jewellery you’re wearing and you beam, all thanks!! I made it!!! — hobie is immediately smitten. he’s like woah! that’s sick, can you teach me? (cos he’s totally smooth like that. he’s been watching you from across the pub all night and this is the perfect excuse for a ‘date’), and of course you say yes — if a pretty boy like hobie is asking to spend time with you you’re not gonna deny him.

you end up going to his place, and you bring some of your own supplies of course, but he surprisingly already has so. much. stuff. beads and wire, buttons and string, scraps of fabric, a janky old sewing machine that was probably second-hand but it does the job!! you teach him how to make earrings and you both end up making a whole bunch of them and then when you’re done he gives you his favourite pair, claiming pretty jewellery needs a pretty face to go with it :))

after that, craft dates become a regular thing with you and him. you make all sorts of things together, taking turns teaching each other the skills you already have. or sometimes you’ll be doing your own separate projects but in the same room, hobie’s music playing in the corner while he works on a pair of patchwork jeans and you work on a crochet top. after a few of these ‘dates’, hobie asks you out with a handmade necklace that holds one of his guitar picks on the chain. of course you say yes and keep the necklace forever and ever!!!!

also yes he absolutely has a first aid kit on hand. not so much for himself, usually when he cuts himself or pokes himself with a sewing needle he’ll just let it bleed lmao. but once you start coming over more he’ll make sure it’s always fully stocked. and when you hurt yourself, even if it’s just a tiny paper cut or something, he’ll dote on you, kiss it better, and wrap it in a spiderman bandaid <3

[autismnation]

Scare

Summary: You and your friend go to a haunted house, expecting scares but recieving romance.

Pairing: Scare Actor Hobie Brown x Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Not beta read + wrote this at 1am so if it sucks that’s why. Fluff (I guess?). 2nd person POV. Hobie Brown wearing a skirt. Reader’s friend is terrified of everything/Reader is fearless. Reader simping for Hobie in internal dialogue. Flirty Hobie (kinda?).

Words: 900.

You rarely got scared.

You could watch a million horror movies and fall asleep through them all, people could jump out at you all day long and you would laugh; you went to every haunted house available and only managed to yawn.

Your friend, on the other hand, was the complete opposite. They were an utter scaredy-cat, hiding behind pillows before the horror movie even began and unable to even enjoy kids’ scares.

But you promised to fix that — and that’s why you were at the new haunted house that recently opened up.

“Let’s do the worse one and get it over and done with,” You suggested.

Your friend shook their head firmly, looking like they were already a few moments away from shrieking in fear, “No! Let’s work up to them. That way, I won’t, you know, pass out in the first one.”

You stared at the map in your hand and gestured to a ride beside you, “Well, that one’s supposed to be the least scary but—“

Before you could finish, your friend had grabbed your hand and dragged you along with them as they got on the ride. It was only a few minutes long and you sat in a cart that looked like a coffin.

“Cute,” You hummed at the ride’s decorations as it began.

You didn’t expect much to happen. The only people you’d seen get on the ride were pre-teens so you expected cheap jump-scares and awfully annoying creepy music. And you were pretty much right — it made you yawn, and sometimes wince when your friend squeezed your hand too hard.

Finally, you had reached the end, bumping into an empty cart that seemed to have been left behind.

“Okay, you can stop screaming now,” You said as you grabbed your friend by their shoulders and gave them a rough shake.

“I’m going to pee my pants,” They whispered.

You let out a snort of amusement, “You probably already have. Now, let’s wait for these restraints to lift so we can see something that’s actually—“

And that’s when they got you.

Someone jumped out of the cart in front of you. They lunged forward, sharp and spiked teeth bared, as they let out an ear splitting shriek.

You jerked backward involuntarily and let out a small yelp. It was nothing compared to your friend’s reaction since you had to physically muffle their scream with your hand, but it surprised you nonetheless.

The restraints finally lifted and you both got out of the cart. Teeth still bared, the actor that scared you started to walk forward.

You had to admit, their costume was pretty cool: one of the scariest you’d seen, actually. Their makeup was a pattern of bold and sharp spikes and they even had white contacts in to erase their pupils, as well as piercings that flashed different colours under the lights of the haunted house. It seemed like their outfit was handmade too. They wore a t-shirt made out of other different t-shirts, safety pinned together and splashed with fake blood. Their long red skirt that looked very much like real organs sewn together made shivers run down your spine. The actor also wore ripped fishnets and had big clunky boots on.

A smile came to your face as you pointed at your own identical shoes, “Hey, me too!”

The actor tilted their head, sticking their tongue out. Somehow, it had been stained red too, adding to the whole killer aesthetic that was going on. For a moment, it seemed like they were going to say something…Then they darted straight toward you.

Your friend screamed and leapt back, but you stood your ground, used to the fake-outs the actors usually pulled.

The actor stopped a few centimetres away from you. They raised their hand, waving it in front of your face. You realised they had silver rings on too, some plain silver bands and some horror-like such as a skull or a realistic human heart.

You stared up at the actor, opening your mouth to say something, but became absolutely speechless as they chuckled.

A low, deep chuckle.

Your eyes widened as you realised the person in front of you was a man. A man with a very attractive voice.

“Nice costume,” was all you managed to get out, almost tripping over your words, as you shifted on your feet. Suddenly, it felt like every nerve of yours was on fire.

The man chuckled again, “Thanks, love.”

He had a British accent. You chuckled awkwardly, trying to ignore how hard your heart was pounding. The man leaned forward, waiting for your response as he smiled softly.

“Your rings are really cool,” You finally said before quickly walking past him, accidentally knocking his shoulder with yours.

Before you could leave, his hand was gripping your wrist tightly and turning you around. He took your hand and placed a ring inside — the one shaped like a skull.

“See you around, yeah?” He grinned as he closed your fist around the piece of jewellery, tapping it gently, “Name’s Hobie, by the way.”

The next few moments seemed to go by in a blur. You told him your name, learnt he’d be on break soon, got told to see him. You left the ride with a goofy grin on your face, your friend complaining in your ear about how unfair it was that you got such a good guy in such a small amount of time…

But you couldn’t focus on anything other than Hobie and his attractive voice and his pretty ring wrapped around your finger.

[ioniansunsets]

Hello yuno! As vday is coming i have an idea or scenario if every heartsteel kayn were to receive handmade chocolates from his f-crush how would he react to it or feel or whichever way you would like owo!!! Feeling like the young kayn in high school moment ♡♡please take your time and its ok you dont have to rush it

✖ Valentine’s Confession Highschool Kayn ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.2k Words

✖ Tags: Mutual Pinning! Awkward young love.

✖ A/N: I wrote a mutual confession thing cause I thought it’ll be cute! I really put my whole IonianSunsussy into this please enjoy it. [Actually the idea of highschool sweethearts Kayn is also really cute. Like imagine the gap moe. He never talks about it and then during Paranoia’s debut he’s just like “ hey can I get an extra VIP ticket? My partner wants to watch.” and everyone is like ??????? and he’s like ??? “ Yeah I’ve been dating them since we were like 15. 6th year anniversary is this weekend.”]

✖ Wrote This Listening To: He just wants to be Somebody to You. I think the whole lone wolf that fell head over heels in love is cute for him hahahhaha

----

Kayn isn’t sure if he should be laughing or crying. Here he is, standing outside your club room at what, 5pm in the evening? Guitar strapped behind his back and a little gift in his hands. Ok, so he had liked you for a while now, so what, nothing wrong with love. Love was badass. So he decided to do something about those irritating feelings and bought you chocolates. So what! So, he decided it was just not hardcore enough, and went to melt and make his own fucking valentine’s chocolates for you. So What!

Maybe he baked cookies too huh? Is that so bad! Is it so bad that he got Akali to lend him some fancy stationery to write you some shitty fucking love letter! Its hardcore, its over the top! It’s how The Shieda Kayn should confess. Nothing subpar, none of that weak, half-assed work. Only the best. You only deserve everything and then some. You deserve the handmade chocolates. You deserve the expensive store bought ones he got too. You deserve that nicely wrapped box with the fancy hand cut crinkle paper in the pretty gift bag. You deserve the handmade cookies that he painstakingly made in your favorite flavor, with the cute icing of Rhaast and the matching handmade sprinkles (that Zed so kindly helped him with). You deserve the effort he took, the countless nights of planning to write down a very well written rap (confessional love poem) for you. You deserve the scented paper (his cologne) and the cool stickers on the envelope (its holographic hearts).

You deserve someone better than him.

He winces as he accidentally bit his lip too hard. Suddenly brought back to the reality of how long he has spent standing by this door. Another click of his tongue, he continues irritatingly tapping his foot while he reconsiders all he’s about to do. Was it creepy? Waiting for you after club activities? What? People should call it romantic right? It…it Was romantic…right? Waiting an extra hour or two after his own extra classes for Your own club activities to finish? I mean, he worked hard growing the balls to ask you to wait for him after school. You said yes earlier too! This is not creepy, this is just him living up to promises he made with you. This is. Normal. Yeah. Totally normal. Romance will die when he lets it. Kayn swallows hard, hand gripping tighter to the ribbon handles of the beautiful gift bag he spent his allowance on. The contents on the bag feeling heavier and heavier by the minute.

Knocking the door with his other hand, Kayn slowly peers into the club room. Slowly opening the door, he enters silently. The sickly blinding white fluorescent room lights mixing with the oranges of the late afternoon sun streaming in from the open windows. Kayn looks around, catching sight of you standing by the closet in the corner of the room packing up whatever it was that you did after school.

" Hey. I’m here like I said." " Kayn!"

He watches as you jump, fumbling as you try to hide whatever it is that was in the closet. Raising an eyebrow, he stands there, giving you an awkward smile as his eyes narrow to discern just what it is you were hiding from him.

“ Oh? Oh~ What is that huh?”

Kayn teases you, hiding his own gift behind his back as he walks over, trying to peer in and see what you’re so desperately hiding from him. As you look back at him with feigned irritation on your face, some quick maneuvers later you managed to hide whatever it is on the shelf behind your back.

“ You first. What’s that huh?”

As you ask him the question, a slow red blush creeps up his cheeks. Slowly you lean over to him, trying to see what is it that he’s holding behind His back. It can’t be right. No way life would treat someone like him this well. No way, no way. You were too close way too close. He swallows hard, leaning back to try and hide what he can behind his guitar case while also leaning away from you. So close to him that he could feel not only your presence in his personal space but the delectable warmth radiating off your skin. As your eyes meet his with that mischievous glint, he freezes. Stunned by both your beauty and the sudden realization that he should get this done and over with before he backs out. A shakily smug smile creeps onto his face as he tries his best to tamp down his anxiety with his Kayn branded cockiness. Was this something everyone went through? Were first loves and confessions this bad for everybody? God, he could feel his palms sweating again. Kayn coughs lightly to clear his throat before proudly thrusting the fancy bag in your face.

“ I…worked really hard on a little something for you. I hope you like it.”

Barely audible, Kayn whispers as he looks away shy. Contrary to his earlier actions, he gently lowers his hands and places the gift into your embrace. His eyes dart around the room, not able to meet your gaze, Kayn seemingly shrinks away from you with the realization of his past few days worth of effort all hitting him at once. The Valentine’s day gift was literally out of his hands now. A breathy laugh escapes him before he finally finds the meager courage to look at you again. And of course, he was instantly awestruck. How could he not be with you. Looking back at him with that tender look, the way your own lips slowly curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eyes as you look from him to the gift in your hands back at him.

“ Kayn…”

” No. Don’t say anything, just…go read the thing when you’re home alone. I don’t wanna hear it! I’m going!”

As he turns to leave, you quickly grab his arm, pulling him back with a quick jerk. Eyes closed, you press your lips against his. Kayn’s own eyes go wide as he looks, unblinking, back at you in shock. He was now suddenly very, very aware of what it felt like when people talked about time feeling like it's stopping.

“ And this is for you.”

You quickly return a similarly lovingly wrapped box into his hands. Kayn frozen in place, his heart working in overdrive, thumping so loudly he was sure he would get a heart attack right here right now. His face such a bright red that the blush reaches up to his ears and also spread down his chest. You could see it peaking through his unbuttoned collar when your gaze trailed down. Before his brain could even begin to regain function you quickly wave to him, scrambling to pick up your bag you run off. Leaving Kayn flustered and alone in the empty classroom as the sun begins to set. You too had to leave his presence before the embarrassment of what went down caught up to you too.

There would be a lot for you guys to talk about tomorrow at school.

Link to fanart for this!

[bumblebeehug]

Gave him her heart

Ship: Natsu Dragneel x Lucy Heartfilia Summary: Lucy worries about what to get Natsu for his birthday, not knowing how ridiculously easy it actually is. Day 5 of Nalu Week 2023 - prompt: gifts Ao3

***

Natsu was a good man. He was wild, fun, crazy, but most of all: good. Lucy was very aware of this and knew that such a good man truly deserved the best. So, naturally she felt slightly panicked when she realised his birthday was coming up.

Lucy liked to believe that she was good at giving gifts. She was observant, both on the battlefield and off, so she knew what people looked a little extra at when they browsed shops or went by markets. Wendy turned to sweets, cute dresses or jewellery, something Lucy was relieved over when she noticed it – Lucy was nothing if not good at picking clothes and accessories, and Wendy was transparent with her tastes (sweet = good, savoury = fine, if there was a good reason to why it was gifted, otherwise a little weird, and sour = danger zone. It could be risky, but citrusy tastes were appreciated in sweet desserts). Erza was also easy to please with gifts – either go the sword and armour route, or go the girly route, possibly with some suggestive books. Gray appreciated nice soaps and clean décor for his house, and if she wanted to be funny with him she could always gift him underwear, seeing as it was the only clothing that stayed on for a while (though since him and Juvia got together it wasn’t really an option – Juvia didn’t care too much about what Lucy gave him, underwear or not, but Lucy herself felt weird about it, so nowadays she kept to soaps). Carla liked tea and pretty dresses as well, but appreciated flowers and other handmade things, and Happy was never happier than on his birthday, when he practically could get buried in the number of fishes he’d be given.

Natsu, however? Lucy wasn’t too sure what she could give him. He liked loads of things – food, fights, adventures, funny hats, board games: few things were off the table with that guy. If she gave him a bouquet of flowers he’d probably smile and say thanks (and maybe he’d try to eat them once he got home), if she gave him tea, he’d probably set the leaves on fire and accidentally get high or something – she didn’t want to risk it either way. He’d be thankful for any clothes she would give him, but would most likely only wear them when he really had to, or to sleep if they were comfortable enough. He really liked his special made ones, that managed to stay intact no matter how hot his fire was. He would definitely try to eat the soaps, and that wasn’t worth it in her opinion, and if she gave him a fish he’d very likely think she was either giving Happy a gift through him, or that she was confessing her undying love for him, since that’s what it meant when Happy gave fishes as gifts to the opposite gender (of the same species, might be important to add).

Point is: giving Natsu gifts was hard when you knew him too well. She had even considered giving him jewellery that matched with the ones she had gotten from him recently, but it once again came down to him only wearing them as a chore, and her pride couldn’t really take that. She would have to put a pin in this challenge though, because she was expected at the guild to help cover a shift for Mira as she dealt with one of her requested missions.

As she entered the guild hall, she was relieved to see that it was rather empty. It had its perks, working at a bar in the middle of the day, and since she saw some of her closer mates, she knew she could take her chance to dig around and find out what others would be gifting him.

“Hi Master,” she greeted Makarov, still using the title he had tried to give over so many times already. Though technically he was still in charge, so Lucy thought it only appropriate to keep calling him master until he truly was off the position. “I’m covering for Mira this afternoon.”

“I heard,” he grumbled from his position in the wheelchair. “You’ve been behind the bar before, so you know the drill. In fact, could you bring me a plate of fried squid and a beer? Just put it on my tab.”

Lucy took his order and sent a note into the kitchen per his request. Normally Mira would help out in the kitchen as well, but since Lucy had limited experience with cooking the meals they were serving, she was excused to just manage the drinks and easier snacks, like nuts and chips. As she waited for the staff in the kitchen to finish the order, she poured a glass of beer for Makarov. Half with light alcohol, half with none. He was currently cutting down on his alcohol intake, Porlyusica’s demand, but to not make him fall back immediately from quitting cold turkey, they slowly made him drink lighter and lighter.

“So, Natsu’s birthday is coming up,” Lucy said, trying to cover it up as small talk, but realising it was obvious what she was trying to do.

“I’ve heard.” A smug grin graced Makarov’s face. The relations between the mages in his guild were always amusing, especially in the stage that Lucy’s and Natsu’s had been in the last couple of years.

“I’m a bit curious…” She gave him his order. “What do you think he wants? You’ve known him for longest.”

“Child, I’m too old to remember all my guild members’ gift preferences, and I’m definitely not rich enough to give away gifts like it’s nothing. For a long time now, I’ve allowed myself to forget who likes what.” Lucy smiled, ready to brush the topic off and take another order across the hall, but he continued. “I do, however, know that you could give him a stick or a pebble you found on the sidewalk, and that boy would treasure it like it’s his most sacred, most valuable item in his possession. Do what feels right, Lucy.”

She thanked him, but within she felt like she was back at square one. She knew he would be happy about getting any gift, but she didn’t want to give him just any gift. She wanted it to reflect how much she appreciated him and their friendship, and she wanted it to stick out. Maybe it could even suggest that she appreciated him more than a normal friend, but only if he started overthinking the gift (which she doubted he would do anyways). It was meant to be subtle, but not subtle enough for it to never be discovered by him. And if it needed to be discovered by him, whatever this little message it was she was trying to convey to him, then it would have to be flashing in neon lights above his bed when he woke up in the morning.

So, she spent a few hours continuing to ponder on what to do, as she was taking more and more orders as people kept dropping in. At around 6:30pm her true saviours arrived at the guild hall. Her team, plus a few other closer friends and minus Natsu and Happy, who were camping today and tomorrow, were back from one of their shorter missions, and they were probably starving for some dinner. Lucy was quick to come over and take their order, also grabbing her chance to question them about their thoughts on this conundrum.

“Hi guys, did the mission go well?” She greeted them, preparing her notepad.

“It went great!” Wendy beamed, and Lucy made a quick mental note to ask about the mission more in detail at a later date. She must have done a good job if she allowed herself to be this proud – Lucy always thought she was too harsh on herself when they fought on missions.

“Gray even kept his clothes on,” Erza added, praising the man on her right.

They took a quick moment to chat, and as they finally decided on what to eat, Lucy seized her moment.

“So,” she started, already knowing she would never live down asking a question like this, considering that many of the people at the table were quite transparent on their opinions on Lucy’s and Natsu’s relationship, “Natsu’s birthday, huh?”

The silence her sentence brought made her regret it immediately. She could already see how their brains were working on new ways to tease her for whatever she was going to say next, but she would have to swallow her pride once again. It’s for a good cause, she kept telling herself.

“Have you gotten your presents yet?” She chuckled awkwardly, hoping their answers would be enough to inspire her, so she could get their food and forget she ever brought it up in the first place.

“Mhm.”

“Yep.”

“I have too.”

“And I’m with Wendy on her gift,” Carla added, still making it painfully obvious that nobody was elaborating their answers. They were making Lucy work for it; she just knew it. They loved grabbing their chances to make her say embarrassing things, and today was no exception.

“Really…” She forced out a laugh. “So, what have you gotten him?” She tried again to prompt anyone at the table to speak up, but they knew she would have to continue pressing, and that it would sound more and more desperate the less information they gave her, so after they all stayed silent for another minute, Lucy gave in.

“I’ve just completely blanked out; I can’t even remember a single thing he likes! Please, help me! Give me some inspiration!”

Erza exchanged a glance with Wendy before she answered.

“Well, he likes fire.”

“And fighting.”

“And ugly tourist shirts,” Gray chimed in. Lucy groaned.

“I can’t exactly give him a clip card for sparring matches, and I’ve already considered a bonfire, but I wanted to have a get together later with all of us where we make a bonfire and drink hot chocolate and stuff.” She spared Gray a short glance as well. “And he only wears his special made clothes, so I can’t give him a shirt to frame for 200 jewel.”

“Then we can’t help you,” Erza said, flipping her bangs as she always does when she lies. Lucy pouted.

“I’ll get you your food, please help me afterwards?”

“Deal.”

After 30 minutes she finally had four hot plates balancing on her arms, ready to serve to her stubborn teammates. They were chatting along just fine now, so hopefully the would have forgotten their silent agreement to keep themselves clammed about their gifts. Lucy hurried to place out their food, hoping that they would notice her way of bribing them by giving them extra big portions.

“Now please...! What should I give him?” Lucy sat down at the table. She wasn’t going anywhere until she got an answer she was pleased with.

Wendy gave her an apologetic smile.

“Well… We can tell you what we think, but don’t you think he’d like it better if it truly came from you?” Erza nodded along.

“I’m going to give him a sword that’s enchanted with endless fire,” she revealed. “But you know, it’s not really a gift that screams ‘Lucy’.”

“Erza’s right. I’m giving him some scrap wood I found in the woods because I can’t really bother, but no gift we tell you to get will be as appreciated as the one you come up with,” Gray said, taking a sip from his beer.

“And we’re getting him a small cupon at a restaurant,” Wendy added.

Lucy sighed.

“I know it won’t be the same, but my creative well has completely dried up. Nothing I think of feels like enough. If I get him something I’d appreciate it would be like I don’t know him at all, and that doesn’t feel fair.” She started to feel hopeless. She didn’t like how drained she got from worrying about this – she loved Natsu! And she would love to properly show him how much she loved him, because he truly deserved that. Platonic or not.

“Hey, you look like you’re giving up, that’s not like you! Think of it like this, we’ve all combined our own interests with Natsu’s interest: Erza with the sword, Wendy and Carla with the food, and me with the scrap wood that shows that I have zero interest in him. Why don’t you write something to him? It may not look like it, but I think he know how to read. At least simple words.” Gray gave Lucy a half-hug from his seat in an attempt to comfort her.

“So… you think I should write him a letter? Would that be enough?” She felt sceptical, but it could work.

“You spitting on him would be enough,” Carla snorted, almost offended by her obliviousness.

“Carla!” Wendy burst out, not before Lucy raised an eyebrow in confusion. Her gut told her not to ask, and for once, she decided to actually follow that gut feeling.

“Do you really think a letter would be enough though?” She asked.

“How about you give him an experience? A friendly date of sorts,” Carla suggested.

“An experience?”

“Like going to the movies, or to a restaurant, or maybe picknick or stargazing?” It was Erza who spoke up this time, and Lucy thought she could see a sparkle in her eye. If she didn’t know better, she would almost think that Erza had been on dates like that herself.

“Hm… I guess you’re right. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll just have to ask him directly, I suppose.”

Lucy stood up from her seat at the table and bid farewell to her friends, along with her thanks. A letter would have to do, and she had a gut feeling that told her that she would figure out a good topic to write about. She hurried to end her shift so she could get to her gift-making. A good idea rarely stayed for long in one’s head.

When she finally sat at her desk, pen in her right hand and paper in front of her, she knew this was the right thing to do. What better way was there to tell Natsu how much she appreciated him, if not through words on paper? It was her speciality, after all. She had even lighted some candles to keep her company, since she knew she would sit there for a while. There was a lot of things she wanted to tell him and thank him for, and the letter would be the perfect way to convey these feelings. Right. Feelings. That could include her less platonic ones, and even if this was a great opportunity for that as well, she didn’t know if she was quite ready to go that far yet. In the meantime, she would just have to tell him she loved him in every way except the straightforward one.

Four hours and 16 pages later, she had her letter. It was ridiculously long, she knew that, and he probably wouldn’t be able to read it in one go, but her heart felt light. A letter was the perfect gift. She had even included multiple invites to ‘experiences’ she wanted to give him, and if he took as long to read it as she thought he would, then those experiences would be experienced with about one week in between them. Lucy gave the thick envelope a quick lick to seal it, and after that she couldn’t help but to give it a soft kiss. She had poured her heart out, and though it would be embarrassing for her to know that he would read such things, it also felt very right. It wasn’t a love letter, but in a way, it felt like it was. She had told him all the things she loved about him, all the moments she especially appreciated him being there, and how great her entire life was thanks to him. If read with the intent of reading a love letter, it could very well translate into one, and maybe, someday in the future, he could look back at it and see the hints she left him.

Lucy leaned back in her chair with a big yawn. It was well into midnight hours by now, and she really needed a refreshing shower. A thought went to how Natsu and Happy were having it right now, in a tent somewhere in the woods. Though she was happy to get to sleep in her soft bed, she was missing them. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough. To speed time up she hurried to the bathroom so she could get into bed as soon as possible – her apartment wasn’t the same without those two.

Lucy cursed herself. Why, why, why had she written that letter? It was the most obvious love-confession anyone could ever read, how on earth had she not realised that when she read it through yesterday? She was dragging her feet behind her, because if the embarrassment wouldn’t kill her when he read it later, she would have to kill herself, and no one non-suicidal would ever look forward to something like that. So, her feet dragged. The letter felt heavy in her hands, and she knew that as soon as it would be opened, she would feel naked. Her gut was begging her to turn back, but her heart told her that celebrating Natsu today was more important than her pride. Him and Happy were coming back from their camping trip, and they promised her they would stop by the guild to say hi before heading home, and that’s when they would be surprised with a small celebration. Nothing like other events, where people went completely wild, but a celebration big enough to show him some appreciation.

Checking the clock one last time, she made sure that she was there before they arrived. They woke up pretty late generally and their favourite camping spot was about an hour into the woods. 10am. Maybe they hadn’t even woken up yet, but Lucy didn’t want to risk it. She wanted to prepare and decorate the guild, and then she would grab something to eat, considering she hadn’t eaten any breakfast yet.

As she entered the guild, she was relieved to only see her team and a handful more people. They were chatting and blowing up balloons, and they had turned one of the tables into a gift-table. Lucy hurried to put her letter amongst the others, eager to get the gift out of her hands.

“Good morning, Lucy!” Levy greeted her with a hug. “You’re pretty late, did you stay up last night?” Lucy chuckled lightly.

“Yeah, I had something important to finish.” She felt her team’s eyes in her back – they knew she had stayed up writing, and though Lucy knew she hadn’t written a love confession of any sort (other than platonic) she still managed to feel a blush creep onto her cheeks.

“So, do you need help with the balloons?” She offered, greeting the rest of the group.

“It’s fine, you go ahead and grab some breakfast instead,” Mira smiled.

“How did you know I haven’t eaten?” Lucy sat down at a table.

“You have a tendency to forget to eat when you have other things on your plate,” Mira just answered, placing down a yoghurt bowl with homemade granola and fruits. Lucy could only smile sheepishly, slightly embarrassed how obviously nervous she was about this event. She was sure Erza had told her about her moment of weakness yesterday, so she reminded herself to try to keep herself under the radar. She’d just be here, sing a happy birthday song, eat a piece of cake and watch Natsu open his presents, then the day would be over and the whole Lucy-confesses-her-feelings-though-a-letter thing would be over! No unnecessary teasing from her friends, if all went well.

“I’m back!”

The guild door shot open with a noise loud enough to give the untrained ear a heart attack. Lucy however had a trained ear, so she just turned her head and met Natsu’s happy gaze, her heart fluttering at the fact that his eyes immediately searched for her and no one else.

“Happy birthday!” The guild cheered. Lucy stood up from her place at the table, not really knowing why until Natsu stood in front of her, just an arm’s length away. If she reached, she would be able to bring him into a hug, and it truly itched in her arms to do exactly that.

“Hey,” Lucy smiled softly. “Happy birthday.” Watching Natsu’s smile go from surprised and generally happy, to soft and caring made Lucy lose what little control she had, and she caved into her needs to hug him. As soon as she felt him hug her back, she knew that whatever the others thought about the content of her letter contained, as long as Natsu read it and took it to heart, all would be fine.

“Thank you,” he whispered, tightening the hug for a second before he went ahead and thanked the rest of his friends, never straying far from Lucy.

The birthday party was overall a quite big success, everyone had a great time, and Natsu, who not so secretly had been itching to open the presents, finally gave in and announced what he was planning to do.

“Time to open the presents!” He cheered, almost jumping in place in excitement, clearly not representing the age he was turning (400-something years old) but making everyone smile regardless. Everyone except Lucy, whose heart flew up in her throat, suddenly getting the strongest urge to grab her letter before he got to it so she could throw it away or burn it. Not because she didn’t want him to read it – she would just prefer it if he read it somewhere more private, where the burning eyes of her much beloved friends could read it and jump to conclusions. So, she hurried close to whisper her plan to Natsu – despite him being the cause of these nerve-racking feelings, he was still her partner in crime, and she knew he would break his neck to achieve whatever she asked him to do. This time, what she asked him not to do.

“Psst!”

Natsu shot a glance to Lucy, who was whispering just quietly enough that no one else would notice, unless they had dragon ears and paid attention to her. Lucy, who saw that he had heard her, hurried to shoot her shot.

“My gift is the letter, I would kinda like it if you read it after the party instead? It’s just – it’s quite long and it won’t be any fun if you sat down and read it here, you know?”

The ball was in the air, and now she could at least sleep well knowing that no matter the outcome, she did try her best to steer the situation into best case scenario – all to her means of course.

Natsu, the king of pranks and someone who was surprisingly good at sneaking around, despite his usual love for the “let’s just barge in and fight anyone who tries to stop us” approach, still managed to keep up his gleeful demeanour as he had listened to Lucy’s request. He once again met her gaze and gave her a quick nod, ensuring that she had scored. The rest of the evening would manage to stay calm and uneventful. All thanks to their ways to keep down low. It was really convenient to have dragon hearing at times like these – though usually she had that thought on missions, and not happy, meant to be uneventful celebrations and parties.

The birthday boy himself didn’t mind opening Lucy’s gift later. In fact, he was just happy he was getting something at all from her, considering how stressful most birthdays could be for her. Sure, she already knew what genre people liked, but getting down to picking the actual thing and managing prices was a hard task for Lucy to tackle without stress. So instead, he went ahead and opened the elongated, wrapped gift that said “Happy birthday, from Erza” on the card. He would make sure to ease Lucy’s mind today, considering how stressed she clearly had been the last couple of weeks.

Natsu couldn’t stop grinning. He truly had the best friends ever, and despite him not being a big birthday celebrator when it came to himself, it felt good to be appreciated. There had been good songs playing, yummy food to eat, and most importantly: good company. He especially loved the presents he had gotten, since they clearly were gifts that his friends had carefully thought through and taken into consideration before giving them – yes, even Gray’s gift was appreciated, because though it seemed silly, he did sometimes need firewood after hard missions to speed up his recovery. Everything was dear to him, so when he finally got home with that thick letter in his hands, he couldn’t wait a second more to open it. This, you see, might be the dearest gift of all.

The softly written “To: Natsu Dragneel” on the front of the envelope made Natsu’s heart beat harder. He knew that the content in it probably wasn’t anything out of the ordinary stuff the two of them said to each other, but still. He liked that Lucy had put extra thought into whatever she had written. Or, at least he hoped she had, seeing as he didn’t actually know what the letter said yet.

Happy peaked over Natsu’s shoulder, closing the door behind the two.

“So, what are you waiting for? Open it!” Happy urged, eager to see what Lucy wanted to say to him, but clearly couldn’t since she had to write it down. In his opinion a speech would be quicker, knowing how slowly Natsu read.

Carefully Natsu parted the sealed wax from the paper, making sure not to tear anything. If he could make some space, he’d want to hang everything on his memory wall later, and in that case he didn’t want to ruin it.

Still standing just inside the door, Natsu began to read. The letter started out rather normal. She was writing the obligatory happy birthdays and saying hi to Happy, who she knew would read over Natsu’s shoulder despite it being a private message. That part piqued Natsu’s interest a little extra. What did she have to say to him that not only had to be written, but wasn’t meant for Happy to know? It sparked some hope in his heart that she possibly could feel something special about him – special-er than what they already had. He continued down the page. She started reminiscing about the past, and about halfway through the second page, Happy gave up on Natsu’s slow reading and told him he’d simply read it after Natsu was done with it. Natsu took a seat as he joined Lucy’s trip down memory lane, enjoying the new information on how she saw him when they first met, during their first missions and more. He especially liked learning that despite his foul mood the first days together, she still had fond memories of him, like when he included her in his list of friends when they fought Macao (before they knew it was him, since he had turned into a Vulcan) and how the reason she didn’t refuse to get along with him after he had seemingly deceived her for a mission, was because he had managed to get a few lucky words in. Something like “because we thought you seemed nice” had made her stick, and Natsu could only thank his past self for accidentally pressing the right buttons.

As he continued reading, he was struck by the wonderful realisation that he truly mattered to Lucy. It’s not like he didn’t know that she enjoyed his company, but seeing in in black and white was completely different. It wasn’t just that she had written something along the lines of “I care about you, your existence matters to me” (though that would have worked as well), but the fact that she could remember so many small details of what he had said and done, that she may as well have written a complete book with all those moments, and it would probably be at least 200 pages long. He knew she had been cutting down on what memories she brought up in the letter, because enough talks with one person made them show how much brain capacity they had, and Natsu knew that her brain capacity was way longer than a 16-page letter. This was her way of being concise. Yet she still managed to bring up moments he only vaguely remembered, sharing almost exact quotes of what was said and by who. Mostly the who was either Natsu or Lucy, but it was still impressive.

Natsu had never been interested in reading. It was a chore he had to go through to get the money he needed for food, had never been any more interesting than that. Except for two occasions: Lucy’s first published book, and this letter. Sure, he had been reading it for almost double as long as it probably took to write it, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested. This letter was so far the greatest thing he had ever received, which wasn’t an easy thing to manage.

At 4am had he gotten to the last line of the letter. His eyes were trying to force him to rest, but his mind fought it like never before. He had skipped dinner for this, and he was not planning to give up last minute, just to succumb to something so superficial, boring and unnecessary as sleep. No, he gathered up some extra will power and pulled though. “Though you probably understand this after reading this letter, I am simply eternally grateful for everything you are, and what you’ve just read is the best I could do at describing my gratefulness in words. Thank you for all you’ve done, and for being unapologetically you. No one else could make me as happy as you have, so once again: Happy birthday, Natsu Dragneel.” She had signed it with her signature at the very bottom, ensuring that all he had just read was completely and wholly from Lucy. After reading the whole thing, he felt his legs itch. No, maybe it was his arms. Feet, hands? No, it was most definitely his soul that had started to climb inside his body. He wanted to go to her, and he wanted to see her. Preferably five minutes ago. He threw another glance at the clock. 4:50am. He had been tossing around, unable to even do as much as close his eyes, for the last 40 minutes, and he knew he wouldn’t feel better until he was within a 20-meter radius of Lucy. Or rather, 2-meter radius.

Not bothering to sneak around the heavy sleeper that the exceed was, Natsu jumped out of the bed and pulled on his slippers. In less than 3 seconds he was out the door, and in another 3 he noticed that he was running. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do when he saw her, especially considering that she most likely was asleep in this hour, but he simply had to get to her, quickly. The time was ticking, like he was a bomb soon to explode, like he was going to run out of time if he didn’t arrive soon. Wind blowing in his ears, he could barely make out the sound of his heavy breathing. He hadn’t run this fast in Mavis knows how long, and he might actually had made it outside her apartment in record time. His chest rising and lowering in big breaths, he managed to make something of a sigh in relief to see her window slightly opened. Climbing the wall quietly was no challenge with Natsu’s experience, so he swiftly pulled himself up, making sure to fully open and enter the window as quickly as possible – though this time with less success since he didn’t have as much experience with that part. Usually he just barged in after scaling the wall, seeing as the time he did it at was most often a time where Lucy either was away or awake.

Either way, he didn’t manage to sneak in as stealthily as he’d like. The window creaked and his body almost fell limp after getting a whiff of Lucy’s calming scent – that he had been running like a maniac to get there didn’t help either, and after a loud, nongraceful landing, Lucy was already awake.

“Natsu? ‘s that you?” She mumbled, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

“Yeah, sorry for waking you,” he whispered, finding his balance on his legs again as he stood up.

“No worries.” Lucy had now swung her legs over the edge of her bed and sat in a more upright position. “Did you need anything? Is Happy alright?”

“Yeah, he’s at home sleeping. I just felt like coming here,” Natsu said, full transparency.

“Alright,” Lucy said, now taking a better look at his face. He looked red and flustered, but with his heavy breathing it might just be the fact that he ran to her place.

“I read it.”

Lucy’s face started getting hot as well.

“The letter?”

“The entire thing.”

“Wow. Uh, so what do you think of it?” Had the hour been normal she might not have asked him such a bold question, but something about the way the streetlights and moon illuminating the room made her feel brave. Perhaps she still thought she was dreaming, but this felt much too real to be just a dream.

“It’s perfect.” Natsu took a few steps closer. He could now make out most of her facial features, sleepy yet alert of his presence.

“I’m glad.”

A few more seconds went by, though it felt like minutes.

“Is it true?”

“Is what true?”

“All of it. All the things you wrote?”

A soft smile graced Lucy’s lips.

“Of course. I would never lie about those things.”

Natsu knew he could be dense in most situations. He couldn’t always read the room, and he wasn’t good at subtext. This time however, he had felt something the whole time as he read that letter. Maybe it was what other would call “reading between the lines” but he suddenly had great confidence in something that could change their relationship forever. Of course, it was a very long shot, but perhaps the adrenaline from all that running was just what he needed to gather the courage to take it. He did, however, decide to test out the water first. Running headfirst was usually his go-to method if he could choose, but he wasn’t blind to the delicacy of the situation he was putting himself in.

“Can I assume things?” He tried.

“Assume things? From what I wrote?” Lucy asked, curious where he was leading this conversation. She was very aware of her heartbeat, but she didn’t know that she didn’t have to be this time, considering that all that Natsu was hearing was his own.

“Yeah.”

“It depends. What do you want to assume?”

Natsu swallowed. Did he always have this much saliva? If so, maybe something was wrong with him. He swallowed again, clenching and unclenching his fists. Had he ever been this nervous in a situation as calm as this? No bandits, no monsters, no big wild animals – not even an annoyed Erza was around.

“That…” he started, his tongue thickening as he spoke. Not literally, but it sure felt like it. He could barely concentrate on what he wanted to say, gazing into those doe eyes. She was so, ridiculously pretty. He knew that before, of course, but he almost found it unfair. How could he think of any words when she sat there, looking all nice and pretty. “That you like me?”

He had said it as a question, though it sounded more like a statement right now. Lucy’s heart must have skipped a beat or two. She was still sleepy, but the tiny possibility that this wasn’t just a perfect dream made her stop herself from straight up answering yes.

“Well… I hoped my letter was clear on that. You’re my best friend in the whole world, how could I not like you?” She let out a small chuckle at the very idea of disliking a friend. She didn’t, however, predict what he would say next.

Natsu reached out his left hand, touching a piece of her hair that had fallen out from behind her ears.

“But can I assume…” He put it behind her ear, “that you like me more than a friend?”

Natsu’s eyes were darker than usual in the dimmed light, but Lucy saw clearly that he was being serious. Though, this exact facial expression was one she had never seen before. She had seen his tender look, his soft look, his happy look, his loving look, but she had never seen this combination of all. And it was her he was showing it to. In fact, maybe it was exactly this expression that made her admit the truth for once. For so long she had been scared that he would feel bothered or surprised by the very idea of “liking beyond friendship”, or love, as she would prefer to call it. She had been afraid that he would find her fantasies of the two of them living their life together as a couple weird, or even mildly repulsive. That her confession would lead to their friendship breaking apart forever. That, however, could no longer be the case. Lucy wasn’t blind, and she certainly wasn’t dumb. If Natsu looked this… happy? To even assume that she likes him beyond friendship, then the outcome from telling him the truth couldn’t possibly be bad. She tilted her head lightly towards his hand, sharing another smile.

“Yeah. I do like you more than a friend, or a best friend.” Natsu took another step closer, now close enough to make her feel his hot breath on her face that he had tilted upwards, towards him.

“Then…” He bended down slowly to come closer to her sitting position. “Can I kiss you?” His words didn’t come out louder than a breath, but Lucy knew what she heard. Her heart had never danced as wildly as it did when she nodded and closed her eyes as Natsu closed the space between them.

The kiss itself was probably nothing special to someone watching. It was plain and soft, just two mouths pressing against each other. For them, however, it was nothing short of magical fireworks. Lucy’s cool, soft lips against Natsu’s hot, slightly rougher ones sent shivers throughout both of them, as if the small touch had opened a completely new door, a way for them to connect and become closer than ever.

Inexperienced as they both were though, they soon had to break it off to breathe. After less than 20 seconds, Lucy pulled their faces together again. How could they have been missing out on this awesome experience for all the years they had known each other? Natsu knew that this already had topped the list of his favourite activities – even placing higher than eating and fighting. The next time they went up for air, they couldn’t stop themselves from giggling.

“Can this count as a birthday gift if I haven’t slept since yesterday?” Natsu asked, more energetic than reasonable after his long day.

“If that makes you happy,” Lucy smiled, giving him another peck on his lips. Whatever they decided to do from this point on, Lucy knew they would figure it out. After all, if they had managed to overcome the obstacle of going from friends to whatever this was, then they could definitely manage anything and everything else thrown at them. What’s important was that they from this point out, took on every challenge together.

[strsburn]

sngä'ikrr [begin] ━ ˓𓄹 ࣪˖  neteyam

pairing - neteyam x fem! na'vi reader

synopsis - in which you do not realize how your life began the moment you met neteyam.

see also - in which neteyam is enthralled by you, and you are just trying to do your duty and fulfill your sense of purpose.

warnings - tba

notes - i am so excited to write about this, i would like to turn this into a series but that depends on how well this does and my motivation lol. hope you enjoy and thank you to @anm3mi for your enthusiasm to read this!!

full disclosure, in this fic, the events of the second movie have already taken place, however neteyam survived, and instead of staying with the metkayina, the sully's have returned to the forest. neteyam and reader are age eighteen. i will not write smut for these characters however bc it doesn't make me comfortable at all, please respect this and do not ask for it.

Growing up, you had felt a disconnection between yourself, and the other na'vi kids. You didn't find any enjoyment in playing their games, nor did you feel like joining with the weavers and singers of your people.

You felt shamed as your mother, Ninat, a clan favorite, and beautiful singer, expressed her disappointment in you constantly as you did not show signs of following in her footsteps. Instead, you talked of becoming a warrior, sneaking off to train with a handmade bow you had made from the remains of a kelutral.

As a result, your mother and your relationship splintered, leaving you to become independent.

You continued to train, leading you to becoming apart of the 'tìhawnu si' a group of warriors that defended your clan from harm and more importantly the Olo'eyktan and his family.

Ta'hlu, leader of the tìhawnu si, had taken you under her wing, raising you as her own, and continuing to watch you flourish under her tutelage, for one day you would take her place as leader.

"Are you paying attention, 'evi?" Ta'hlu questioned, pulling your attention away from the tree from where you had been staring blankly, deep in thought. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in shame, at losing focus especially during such important tasks and you stood up straighter, tail flicking behind you with nerves.

"Yes, sa'nok. I became distracted, it will not happen again, I swear it." The smile that Ta'hlu wore at the title you gave her, dimmed as she saw how tense you were, your ears flailing with nerves as your tail curled around your leg.

While she admired how mature you had become, you were still just a kid, eighteen and striving to make those around you proud. Little did you know how proud she was of you, just for who you were. She wanted you to not grow up too fast. Sadly, war took everything from the na'vi, including the innocence of children who should not know loss.

"That's enough practice for today, 'evi. Go have fun." She dismissed you, causing your ears to flatten as you sheathed your blade.

Before you could protest, a familiar na'vi who you recognized as Pa'yi broke through the clearing, her ears pinned down in worry and tail lashing with distress. At her expression you stood to attention, Ta'hlu turning towards the na'vi with a confused frown.

"What is it, Pa'yi?"

"Please, hurry. Tuktirey te Suli Neytiri'ite is in trouble, she strayed too far past the barricades of home tree and we can't find her." The na'vi announced, you immediately looked to Ta'hlu who was already staring at you, gaze expectant and trusting.

You pushed down a smile as your tail relaxed and your ears stood alert. Pa'yi seemed surprised that the leader was waiting on you for command, but relaxed as she saw the determination painted on your face.

"Gather the other warriors, we will meet at hometree and discuss our strategy with Olo'eyktan'." You decided, meeting the pleased gaze of Ta'hlu.

"Oel ngati kameie." You greeted the Olo'eyktan and his family, hand meeting your forehead before curving down towards your chest. The Chief did the same, eyes unfocused and ears down in worry for his daughter. Not wanting to waste any more time you cleared your throat and walked forward to meet him, the warriors following behind you, spears and bows at the ready.

"With your permission Toruk Makto, I plan to lead the tìhawnu si, to find your daughter." You spoke clearly, meeting his eyes. You could see the worry in his gaze, just as he could see the resolve in yours. He knew of your strengths, having heard much praise from Ta'hlu and he decided to trust her, and her training, that you would find his little girl.

With a nod, you stepped back, gesturing towards your fellow sisters, protectors of the clan and your people.

"We will split into three groups, I will lead my group north, and the other two groups will head east and west. We will not rest until Tuktirey te Suli Neytiri'ite is back with the clan, understood?" You directed, feeling a deep happiness as your fellow sisters watched you with pride in their eyes, nodding in respect to show that they would fight by your side.

You took one glance back, catching the gaze of Neteyam te Suli Neytiri'ite, his eyes frustrated at most likely not being able to seek his sister, and while he did not say a word, his eyes relayed everything he could not.

Find her

You dipped your head into a nod and turned, your hair swinging with the movement as your heart beat steadily in your chest. Everyone was counting on you, you could not, would not let them down.

tìhawnu si - protector(s)

'evi - kid (affectionate)

sa'nok - mother

sngä'ikrr - begin

[hidefdoritos]

Today's Mending

I'd really hoped to be well enough to sit up at my sewing machine today and knock through a pile of mends that are waiting on the machine. No such luck; my temp went back up today. Two steps forward, one step back.

"I will no longer berate myself for resting," I said as I laid in bed for three hours after waking up. "I will no longer berate myself for resting," I chanted as I sewed while bending in strange positions on the floor. "I will no longer berate myself for resting," I promise myself, taking cough syrup and ibuprofen and lying down again.

So here's what's been done today. I enjoyed it. I don't need to punish myself for doing less than yesterday. Anything I get to take a needle to is a blessing and a joy.

First up is my brother's suitcoat. Yep, the brother with the 30" waist and the 40" hip. He asked me to take it in. I've never messed with tailoring coats, but I gave it a shot today. I basted the center back seam in sort of a diamond shape. So far I don't like it and it makes weird bubbles.

I watched a tutorial that takes the jacket in at both side seams primarily. I'll have Joe try it on first, once I'm well enough to be around people, and then see what I can do to the jacket.

I found two random little cuts in the hem of this hoodie. Can't imagine what did that, but there they were. I mended a tiny cut in this same hoodie's sleeve yesterday with blue thread, so I carried on with the blue mends.

So, I got some blue fabric from a free bin! The tag shows 4.67 yards for $4.67 and a purchase date in 2003. I also found two GORGEOUS pillowcase tops in that same bin. The yellow isn't usually my color, but since they're handmade, I just had to take them.

I like to think that these came from the same sewist. Maybe they never put the fabrics together--the yardage seems more fitting for a dress--but I hope they'd be happy to see their hard work being used. They're going to become my primary pillowcases.

Today I just cut out the backs. Some other day I'll sew all the seams.

I was out thrifting, on my way to the register, and this miniskirt jumped off the rack, bit me, and asked to become a tote bag. Well, not quite, but that's essentially what happened. I have serviceable sewing and crochet project bags, but I don't have one big enough for a swimsuit, towel, sunscreen, and change of clothes. This will be it!

I've thought of every way to add a bottom to the bag, and eventually I settled on sewing it shut. I have scads of heavy-duty cream-colored blue-striped canvas (from the same free bin! I'm saving it to make a corset), so I'm making the straps out of that. Today I just cut and pinned them. I'm finally coming around to the trend of stripes with flowers, I guess.

I cut out a couple more patches for these awesome summer shorts. Then I remembered that I'm sick and exhausted. And that somebody else has my iron right now. So, they can wait.