#easier with prompts wink wink nudge nudge

[ashbrat488]

Candy - Chapter 9

Word Count: 1256

August invites Joe into his inner circle. Or so he thinks... Cassidy awakes from a nightmare of past trauma.

MINORS DNI TW: sexual assault

Joe's nerves were palpable as he glanced up at August approaching his desk on a Friday afternoon after lunch. "Mr. Walker..." Joe's voice quivered, his face reddening as he stumbled over his words to apologize before managing to mutter, "August."

"I'm going out tonight with a few other guys from the office. It's a special, private gathering we arrange once a month or so. Would you be interested in joining us?"

Joe studied August's demeanor, recognizing the unspoken undertones behind the invitation. He was conscious that accepting would not only mark his inclusion in a secretive inner circle but could also be a pivotal moment for his career within the company. He seized the opportunity with a large grin. "Yes, of course!" Eager excitement laced his response, and he rose from his desk, extending his hand toward August.

"Excellent. I'll text you the details. Remember, dress smartly. Jackets are mandatory, but ties are optional." August's hand enveloped Joe's, his other hand resting atop their joined hands. "Although, they could prove quite handy." A wink punctuated his words before he pivoted to leave the office, a smug grin curving his lips.

Joe entered the club, his identification checked by the front bouncer before he was led to a secluded back room. Inside, August was engaged in conversation and drinks with four other men. The room had an intimate ambiance, its arrangement featuring couches arranged in a 'u' shape, centered around a large glass coffee table. A compact stage with a pole at its heart occupied one end of the room, while a door loomed behind it.

Accepting a drink, Joe settled into a seat that faced August, causing the conversations to halt as the group's attention focused on him. Joe's gaze shifted to the man positioned at August's right, a person he didn't recognize from their office. He inadvertently met the man's gaze, eliciting a scowl from the mustached individual.

August's authoritative voice then initiated the proceedings. "What happens within these walls remains here," he declared, setting down his whiskey glass on the table before him. The other men shifted their attention to Joe. "It's a rule that everyone must adhere to."

"Alright--" His words were abruptly cut off as several women entered the room from a distant wall, their attire spanning an array of lingerie. A realization dawned on him, and he comprehended the nature of this gathering. His voice trailed off into a surprised, "Oh..."

Suddenly, his surroundings became vividly clear as an alluring dark-haired woman approached him, her presence commanding his attention as she took hold of his hands, placing them on her waist before she moved to straddle him. "I have a girlfriend," Joe managed to stammer, his gaze locked onto the woman's blue eyes.

Laughter erupted among the men, and August nonchalantly shrugged. "We're all either married or attached," he remarked. A pause followed, and he playfully nudged his friend to the left as a woman settled onto his lap. "All of us, except for Lloyd, that is. But this is precisely why I emphasized the rule about confidentiality. You understand?"

"Yes, sir," Joe agreed, his consent given just before the woman leaned in to nip at his earlobe, drawing a soft groan from him.

August's gaze shifted to Lloyd, a silent exchange between them through a subtle nod. August sought confirmation if Lloyd had executed the task as requested, and the affirmative nod he received was enough assurance. Returning his attention to the woman nestled on Joe's lap, August provided her with a subtle signal, prompting her to lead Joe toward the backroom. He had meticulously prepared, placing cameras in the room with Lloyd's assistance, all set to capture the evidence he required.

As he observed Joe being led away, August's lips curved into a bemused smile. "Easier than expected."

"Well, he's more eager for your approval than he seems concerned about his supposed girlfriend," Lloyd countered, shoving away the woman from his lap to reach for his drink.

August regarded his friend with a measured look, familiar with Lloyd's preference for beautiful women, whether they were paid or not. "Not joining in this time?"

Lloyd's nonchalant shrug carried an air of knowing, his eyes deliberately avoiding August's inquisitive gaze. "No. I'm just waiting for you to show interest in what I've uncovered about our Cassidy."

"Our Cassidy?" August's retort was laced with both irritation and possessiveness, his tone a clear declaration of ownership.

With an exasperated sigh, Lloyd raised his eyebrows in mock exasperation. "Calm the fuck down. I was just teasing. No need to get all worked up. Are you interested in hearing or not?"

"Quit beating around the bush, Lloyd..." August's impatience seeped into his words, evident in his demanding tone.

The overwhelming stench of tobacco and cheap vodka clawed at Cassidy's senses, triggering a nauseating reaction as the acidic taste of bile rose in her throat. She recognized the familiar heaviness settling on her chest, an ominous signal of what was to come even in the dimly lit room. Her mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and scenarios taking hold, while her body remained rigid, trapped by both fear and painful history.

The man, in a drunken stupor, clumsily descended upon her, and a wave of horror surged through her. Her instincts screamed for her to fight back, to scream for help, yet the bitter reality of her past experiences told her it was futile. A paralyzing helplessness enveloped her as she lay there, bracing for the nightmare she knew all too well.

A suffocating sense of dread descended, amplifying her vulnerability. The man's invasive advance, forcing his tongue into her mouth, triggered an involuntary response, making her choke and gag. His thrusts against her body were painful, each motion a searing reminder of her powerlessness. Tears threatened, forming at the corners of her eyes as she fought a losing battle, weakly struggling against his grip.

A surge of anger and humiliation fought against her fear, amplifying her desperation. His fingers dug into her skin, adding new layers of agony as he bruised her fragile form. In her torment, she finally noticed a figure lurking in the doorway, a sinister presence whose gaze conveyed indifference rather than assistance. The sight of that dark silhouette further shattered her hope, leaving her trapped in a cruel reality where there was no rescue, no salvation...

Cassidy's awakening was abrupt and distressing, her body drenched in sweat as she propelled herself toward the bathroom, where the remnants of her unsettling dream translated into reality as she retched into the toilet. She flushed it away, leaning against the cool wall as her knees pressed close to her chest, her silent tears an unspoken testament to the lingering horror of her nightmare. The ghost of that man, the one who had haunted her past, had revisited her mind once again, despite the months that had passed since she last dreamt of him.

Gathering her strength, she shook off the grip of fear, slowly rising to her feet after a few minutes. She managed to muster the courage to face her reflection, studying her own face in the mirror. Time had evolved her, transforming her from the frightened child she was when she left that dark chapter behind. Though he was miles away on the other side of the country, she couldn't entirely escape his shadow.

The first rays of the rising sun caught her attention as she returned to the bedroom, snagging her laptop on the way to the kitchen. Sleep now seemed elusive, so she opted to immerse herself in her homework, hoping to divert her mind from the harrowing thoughts that had plagued her. 

Chapter 10 Candy

Taglist If you want to be added or removed from my list, let me know 🫶🏻

@identity2212 , @alicedopey , @propelkingkitten , @critfailroll, @mrsevans90 , @carrie80reads , @thearcana-moonlight , @devotedlythoughtfulanchor , @alwayzmsbehavnn , @dangerousblizzarddreamer , @secretdream22

[catonatrain]

lets build some memories today and tomorrow too

momoi & midorima | rated g | word count: 1776 | where momoi and midorima go on a shopping trip together

for @mason-ajar for the 2024 @knbexchange !! prompt: character a and character b pick out outfits for eachother

i was super excited to see that we've been paired up for the exchange !! i haven't been able to write in a long while, but seeing your prompts gave me the inspiration needed to to write about a friendship that is just so important... and so here they are!!

read on ao3!!

Momoi was lying on her bed, mindlessly reading a sports magazine until her phone rang. It was too early in the morning for Aomine to be calling her. Maybe it was Kise? 

“Hello?” She held her phone in between her head and shoulders.

“Momoi.” To her surprise, it was Midorima. “There is something I would like to talk to you about.”

“Midorin!” Momoi practically sang. She immediately sat up, abandoning the magazine. “You rarely call first! What is it? Oh, let me guess! Do you need a lucky item? Or are you having boy troubles?”

“No, I am not having, as you say, ‘boy troubles.’” There was a pause. Momoi figured it was Midorima pushing his glasses up. “I also have acquired my lucky item for the day. I need your assistance. Could you accompany me on a shopping trip?”

Momoi felt her already wide smile go even wider. “Of course, I’ll go with you!” She loved being invited to things– be it eating lunches at Maji Burger or coordinating streetball lessons for the local kids. Usually, she was the one doing the coordinating– which, for the record, wasn’t something she minded! But it was nice having the invitation go the other way every once in a while. Especially from Midorima! 

People may think he was someone who wanted to be uninvolved, but it was not true! When luck permitted, he always came to different events like the team’s after practice ice cream trips. Sometimes he needed just a bit of nudging, nowadays in the form of Takao, but regardless, he didn’t often initiate events with her. She’d noticed that lucky item shopping is usually his excuse to hang out with others, but he already got his lucky item of the day. 

She wondered if anyone else was coming. Takao or Kise maybe? She couldn’t help but ask. “Are we going with anyone else? Takao-kun? Or Ki-chan?”

“No, it would just be the two of us, if that would be alright with you.” There was a pause. “I understand that it may be… unusual for it to be just us, but you were the friend that I deemed would be able to help me best.”

“Aww Midorin, that’s so sweet of you!” She could imagine him blushing at the compliment. “Send me the details over email, and I’ll be there in an hour!”

Momoi saw Midorima standing on the outside of the clothing store. He wore a simple dark blue t-shirt and beige pants. He tightly held onto a giant penguin plush. When his eyes met with Momoi’s, his grip loosened. 

She ran up to him, stopped right before him, and started bouncing on her feet. “So? What’s the occasion? What are we shopping for?”

“I… would like your help in choosing an outfit.” He turned his head to avoid eye contact. Momoi knew what that meant.

“So you were having boy troubles!” After everything that’s happened in the past few months, it’s been getting easier and easier to read Midorima and this was no exception. She will admit, however, that she hadn’t quite figured out who’d captured Midorima’s affection. Most people would say it was Takao who held the title as “The Boy Midorima Likes,” but Momoi had a theory she had been brewing up. It was still a work in progress, but her “Kagami Taiga: The Boy Who Has Captured Everyone’s Heart” thesis had a lot of evidence. Momoi would simply have to take into account both possibilities today.

“That would… that would imply that I am struggling, which I assure you is not the case,” Midorima’s face flushed and his voice was louder than usual. Momoi couldn’t help but laugh.

“But you’re not denying that this is a boy-related problem!” She winked. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about Midorin! I understand completely! Whenever I’m with the person I like, I always want to look my best. I won’t ask who it is, but I’ll give it my all in helping you out!”

“I… appreciate it…” 

“You’ll definitely capture his heart, Midorin!” She began urging him into the clothes store. “Let’s go!”

“I think this outfit will be the one, Midorin!” Momoi held up a green sweater with an argyle pattern. “It’ll go great with your eyes!”

Midorima took the sweater to examine it. 

“Besides the color being the same as my eyes, is there anything else to take note of?”

Momoi giggled. Midorima’s questions reminded her of a time in middle school where Midorima asked about her notes and note taking strategies. He was always serious in his studies, and this was no exception. “You want to pick clothes that fit well and that you’re comfortable wearing! Make sure that colors and patterns don’t clash. Like two very bright colors! It can work, but I’m not too sure if that’s what you want to go with.” 

Throughout her speech, she could see Midorima nodding and paying very close attention to her words. “So for the pants, should I go with one of the darker ones?” 

“Yes! Let me choose…” Momoi looked around, surveying each pair of pants until she found one she thought to be suitable. “I think those black pants should work! Check to see if they fit!”

“Thank you.” He gently placed his giant penguin plush down and grabbed the pair from Momoi. “I truly do appreciate the time you’ve taken out of your day to help me with this.” The tips of his ears were red. She found it quite cute, but chose not to comment.

“Of course, Midorin!” Momoi beamed at him. “I’m honored you asked me to help you out with this! I’ll be cheering you on!”

His blush spread to his face. He managed to mutter a thank you before shuffling off to try on the outfit. She sat down to wait for Midorima. Would this be a one time thing? While it was the first time that it’s been just the two of them, Momoi found that she quite enjoyed the experience. With just the two of them, the energy wasn’t as face paced, which Momoi appreciated. Sometimes, she needed the break from the constant running around of her daily life. And not only that, but Midorima had definitely changed. It was easier to understand him now. 

When Midorima walked out, she saw some people began to sneak glances at her friend. Unfortunately for the interested party, his heart had been taken by someone else. She bounced on over and eye’d her friend at all sorts of angles. Midorima stiffened at the attention, not knowing what to do.

Momoi laughed. “It’s fine Midorin! You look great!” She gave him a thumbs up. 

At that, Midorima sighed, finally letting the tension escape. “That endeavor was just as difficult as I imagined it to be.” He pushed his glasses up. “Thank you Momoi for making this trip much easier. Your knowledge was crucial and your guidance saved me a lot of frustration. Is there any way to repay you?”

Momoi thought about it and couldn’t think of anything she needed at the moment. Just spending time with a friend was already a gift in itself. But she knew that he wouldn’t take that as an answer. She placed a finger on her chin as she thought of her options. 

“I want you to pick an outfit for me!”

“I beg your pardon?” Momoi could see the gears running in Midorima’s head. “Do you not already have suitable clothes?”

“I want to test what you’ve learned! Let’s see if you can make an outfit for me.”

“I’m not sure if–”

“C’mon Midorin! I know you can do it! You’re not one to back away from a challenge are you?” With that, Momoi knew she won. 

“Give me ten minutes.” Midorima rushed towards the center of the score, scanning all around to find an outfit that would look well on her. She couldn’t help but laugh at the fact that his penguin plush was tucked between Midorima’s arms. 

“A brown plaid skirt, a white blouse without any patterns, and a light brown sweater that clashes with neither of these colors.” Midorima used his penguin to hold onto the clothes, as its flippers served the clothes like how there’s a waiter serving food at a restaurant. “Is this a suitable outfit?”

“There’s only one way to find out!” It was her turn to try on something new. She came out with a little twirl, “Well, Midorin? I have my thoughts, but let’s check your sense of fashion. What do you think?”

Midorima wasted no time. “For the skirt and jacket, I was hesitant at first since you chose a sweater that specifically matched the colors of my eyes, but the neutral colors appear to coordinate well. I also ensured that the blouse had no patterns. I do believe that it fits the criteria.”

She saw a slight hint of a smile. Was he proud? She hoped so, as she truly did love the outfit that Midorima chose. “But do you think I look cute? Do you think I can capture the hearts of anyone I set my eyes on?”

“You… you asked me for my thoughts and I believe I answered appropriately. Was I incorrect in this assessment?”

“I’m just messing with you Midorin!” She saw the hint of exasperation on Midorima’s face and so she finally relented. “It’s such a cute outfit! I’m impressed!”

“Hmph.” He turned away and began walking towards the cash register. “In that case, let’s go.”

Momoi followed along happily.

Outside of the store, Midorima said, “Thank you again. I found myself enjoying our time together.” There was a pause as he ruminated on what to say next. “I hope we can do this again. I’ve been told it would be beneficial to be the one to reach out more, so I will try to do just that.”

Momoi felt a tinge of tears begin to form, but she willed them away. To think only a year ago, she was wishing for a time where everyone could smile together again. So much had changed, and she hoped  that it would continue to do so. 

“And thank you Midorin,” She gave her friend a very wide smile. “Let’s definitely do this again. But before you leave, you definitely have to tell me about who you like! Come on! Tell me! Tell me!”

Midorima’s cheeks reddened as he tried to back away, but he realized fairly quickly that this was a battle he would not win. “Fine. But let’s do it somewhere else.”

“Of course, Midorin,” she said as she walked with her friend towards their next destination.

notes:

i couldn't decide if i wanted to have hints of midotaka or hints of midokaga bc i like both ships a lot! i ended up just keeping it vague on both ends, so YOU, the reader, can decide who The Boy Midorima Likes is :)

outfits are based on some merchandise art and official art! midorima's outfit is this:

momoi's outfit is this:

[ironstrangle]

Kissing Sam Wilson #16/17 - Undercover (SamBucky, 600 words)

@samsseptember prompt - Undercover | Amnsia Night Out | Madripoor

“I don’t do undercover missions,” Sam argued. He nudged Bucky in the shoulder purposefully. “You know that I’m bad at them. Everyone knows I’m bad at them. Why are they sending us into this situation?”

“It’s a desperate measure,” Bucky agreed. “Trust me, we know that you’re bad at them. But Sharon says that this guy is big money, someone who had been leaving his stink all over Madripoor since the Blip. He’s been sighted with people who aren’t Hydra, exactly, but who are vaguely aligned with surviving Hydra people, at least… We need to peg him before he takes the money and runs.” 

“But this?”

“What’s wrong with this?”

Sam and Bucky were masquerading as a couple. Apparently, they were affiliates of their target, but he had never met them face to face. Sharon believed that he would tell them about his business affairs. All he knew about them was that they were a couple and that the man Sam was portraying was sort of a ditz. He was flighty, frivolous and flamboyant. This, Sharon assured, would be easy for Sam to play. 

Sam came out of the bathroom wearing a green silk shirt with a pattern resembling neon butterflies. He was wearing actual eyeliner, alongside the makeup and prosthetics that they’d used to render him unrecognizable. 

“I hate this very much, just so you know. I can’t act. Hell, I couldn’t even act when I was ten and playing a tree in the school play.” 

“Oh come on baby,” Bucky said, eyes wide and eying him up and down appreciatively. There was a mischief in his eyes that was, more or less, wonderful. Seeing that lighter side of Bucky always made him smile. He took a step forward, took both of Sam’s hands in his and planted a kiss on him. “Be a good baby doll for your husband.” He winked.

~~~

It was worse than his first foray into undercover work. Sam still couldn’t believe the ditzy character that he’d played. He had more-or-less been Bucky’s trophy husband. He had sat with Bucky, batting his eyes, as the man in front of them went on and on about his conquests in Madripoor. 

“It’s all about letting people know who’s boss,” he said, as Sam fluttered his eyelashes and let Bucky rub his hand up and down his thigh. Bucky had been, of course, enjoying the deception far too much. Sam found it a lot easier than he expected, but he’d just never been made for intrigue. “Letting them know that if they cross you, there is going to be a consequence.

“I see,” Sam said, using a higher register, an almost ditzy tone. “That sounds so scary, I can’t believe you’re doing that…”

It felt so silly, so foolish. He was wearing enough prosthetics to mask the fact that he was a well-known figure, but who was buying his near giggles as Bucky half groped him. 

“Come on,” the man said, putting his hand on Sam’s arm. Sam had to fight not to recoil at the touch. “I’ll show you what I mean if your husband can spare you for a few seconds.” 

Bucky then leaned over and planted a huge kiss on him.

“Sure thing. Come right back to me sweetheart.” 

This was ridiculous. But Sam giggled and followed him out of the room. He could do this. At least he got to kiss Bucky in front of bad guys, right?

[jmrothwell]

Christmas dialogue prompt! "Will you be my new year's kiss?" Rulie

Reggie exhaled a sigh of relief as the cooler night air hit him. The fact that this club had an outdoor patio area on their roof was severely underutilized. It was nice to get a break from the crowds.

Sure he could have probably taken his jacket off while he was inside but that wouldn’t change how close everyone was to each other. Or remove the overwhelming smell of alcohol that permeated the air. 

Plus it was quickly approaching midnight and he’d rather not be surrounded by couples at the moment. He had tried flirting with a few people earlier but that hadn’t really gone anywhere

He’d found a good spot leaning against the railing of the patio area, attempting to see any form of starlight in the sky above. His search was interrupted, “this spot taken?”

He turned to see a curly haired young woman about his age. Her dark eyes shined bright like the stars he couldn’t find. 

She looked vaguely familiar but Reggie wasn’t quite sure why. 

“It’s all yours,” he gestured to the open patch of railing beside him.

“You were in the band that played earlier, right?”  She smiled-a beautifully breathtaking smile that showed off an adorable gap between her front teeth-as she leaned against the handrail. “You guys were really good.”

He stood a little taller at her praise. “Tell your friends,” he echoed himself from on stage earlier with a wink, his crooked smirk a little cheekier than before.

“Right, I’ll tell all my friends about you guys,” she said with a nod. “Sunset Swerve, right?”

“Sunset Curve,” he pouted as he mimed drawing a crescent shape in the air. Then he caught the way she was biting her lower lip, shoulders subtly shaking. Wait, had she done that on purpose?

It’s in this moment of shocked confusion and her stifling giggles that he remembered why she looked familiar. “Oh!” his shout caused her to furrow her brows, “You were in my intro to Psych class.”  

“What?” She laughed out, nose wrinkling.

“Yeah, Psych 101 with Hidgens.” He tried his best to not shout in his excited explanation, “You normally sat up front near the lectern, your laptop has some purple flowers decorating it.”

Her bewildered smile was overtaken by an excited look of recognition, “Were you the guy who fell out of his chair because he fell asleep?”

“God, remind me to never take another 8 am class.” He groaned as he hid his face, or more specifically tried to hide the blush setting his face aflame. 

“That’d be easier if I actually knew your name.” She laughed as she nudged him with her shoulder. For some reason his neck and ears caught the wildfire that was his blush. 

“It's Reggie.”

“I’m Julie.” she said, her smile unwavering as someone's muffled shout came from inside announcing five minutes until midnight.  “You got anybody you need to get back to?”

“No,” Reggie admitted. He swallowed hard around the sudden nest of butterflies settling in his chest at the glimmer in her eyes before he asked, “you?”

She shook her head with a soft no of her own, then leaned a little closer. “Will you be my new year’s kiss?”

“Sure,” Reggie squeaked with an emphatic nod.

Neither of them returned to the party, enjoying the rest of their new year on the roof. Reggie even let Julie borrow his jacket when she began to shiver slightly. Even if the kiss they exchanged to ring in the new year was only a brief chaste press of lips it wasn’t the last kiss they shared that night.

[bekalawson]

VEINS

October 6, 2023 - 31 days of prompts! 🎃

You take another bite of your garnished meats and swallow the dregs of the red liquid, but not before swirling it within your little glass, taking in its sweet aroma. It’s one of the few things that brings you joy anymore.

Until you realize that was the last of it. Not just on your plate, but also the last that was stored away. Now what will you do, stuck inside your little home with nothing to entertain your mouth with? 

Outside the window, your people prance around without a care in this world. All the while, you muck about filled with disgust and an insatiable hunger. Take this dipshit for example. In their fluffy clothes and their idiotic little black hat. Where does one even find such a horrible fashion statement? 

There is no need for fashion in this world. Especially not when they try so hard to dress and act like those people across the waters. The fools even try to emulate the people of the mountains. We are not them! These things attempting to call themselves people really know how to piss one off.

You look over to your bed. Well made. Empty. Nothing to entertain your body either. Well, it's time to go out.

Tender meats and red drinks that make your head spin are what you live for. Well, that and… the chase of it all.

On your way, you spot an old friend. Like too many others, Raiden finds enjoyment in keeping his toys at his hip. But you rarely see Raiden and his… pet separated. At least he knows to keep them on a short leash. Underneath their outward feelings of faux love and admiration lies a dark fear. And it’s that which attracts you.

You decide to cross the waters and dine amongst them there. 

When you shore, you take in the air deeply and soak in the moonlight. It’s fresh with prospects; they’re walking around, just waiting to be plucked for your entertainment. You breeze through flowing scents, each unique to whomever brushes past.

Left to right, all delicious faces, gleaming with the promise of joy and debauchery. You follow their gaze to a place nestled in the shallow wood. The exotic, rhythmic vibrations reverberate in your chest all the way from where you are. 

Swirls and whirls of movers and shakers dance around you; synth drums pound your ears. You revel in the moment, intoxicated by the way they all throw themselves at you. Choosing entertainment tonight will prove to be overwhelmingly easy. 

You flow with the movement until there is only one. Or… maybe two, you think. Well, you haven't had fresh entertainment in such a long while. Too long, in fact.

Their inebriation makes coercing them that much easier. And they must be friends. The way they meld together in the winks and smirks and giggles they share; they think it’s a secret between them.

Feeling their full attention upon you, you lead them across the dance floor, out the door and through the shallow wood, over the waters and into your home. It amazes you how smitten some could be, to retreat with a perfect stranger, but it works for you. Filling your every desire is all people are good for.

You go through the movements; peppered with kisses, slips of the hand and tongue. One of them, the girl, just barely ruins the moment by speaking. It reminds you of the time when your people and theirs attempted to understand each other's language. 

We grew tired of them hunting our kind for sport. And they grew weary of our kind, whisking them away at night. We wanted to form some type of understanding. And peace.

A treaty was created. Your kind was allowed only to target those people within a certain radius, and their kind was to only hunt those who crossed that line. 

It was all in vain. It worked for a time, but humans are liars. 

And you are insatiable.

You throw the thought away to fully cement yourself in the moment. You place a finger on the girl’s lips and hand her a black cloth. She only needs a little wordless nudging to do what you want. She secures the blindfold on the boy, and they both lie down on your bed— or as you like to call it, your bedroom table.

The girl's whimpers turn into quiet, struggling gurgles as you enter her. Down her throat you go, and up come her sweet plump insides, filling your belly. 

Her eyes begin to bulge. She is just on the cusp of fear, of realization. She’s begun to sober, but it's far too late for her. You relish the flavor of her insides, consuming her from the inside out. 

The boy lays smiling, blitheful and unaware of the soul that’s filled your belly, her body lifeless right next to him. It makes the taste that much sweeter. 

You move on him quickly. You can't have him aware. Not yet. Fear will be your appetizer. You enjoy it more when they’re a little scared. Like ordering a slice of pie after a big dinner.

You feel your face stretch into a devilish rictus. Tonight you will be sated.

[poiwritesnstuff]

The One Where Richie Patronizes A Bar

Inspired by this post by @coldplaysongsonrepeat.

Richie “Trashmouth” Tozier was finding it harder and harder to frequent bars since he started being actually recognized. Comedy clubs were places of work, and it was generally considered bad practice to vomit where he ate. Clubs were an overpriced headache full of drugs he was too old to keep up with. Sports bars were usually full of the kinds of guys who would want to get chummy and laugh about stupid broads and masturbation jokes, which was masturbatory in and of itself. It was like... mastur-ception. Incept-urbation.

Maybe there was a reason he didn’t write his own material.

So it was with this reasoning that Richie ended up in a dive bar almost forty minutes from his house, nursing a glass of something alcoholic in the corner of a building that a clown car would call cramped. The lighting was dim with burnt out lightbulbs, the bar made of actual wood, and the stool just unbalanced enough for him to nearly fall off twice. In a word, perfection.

It was so dingy and forgotten that Richie hadn’t noticed the faded pride stickers and graffiti until the bartender struck up a conversation with the charming opener of “Should have figured a guy with a name like Trashmouth Tozier would be gay.”

Richie blinked up at her. “Yeah? What tipped you off, my incredible sense of style or the giant bear railing me as we speak?”

“Are you serious? Right in front of my salad?” She asked, her eyes wide with mock shock as she lit a cigarette. Richie laughed

“I think I might love you,” Richie said. “Forget dick, I’m all about you now, baby.”

“Too bad, since mine is bigger than yours,” she said. 

She offered him the cigarette. Richie didn’t normally smoke, but there was something comforting about the act of smoking with this stranger. They continued on like this, throwing nonsense back and forth until Richie was stumbling out of the bar and into an uber she had called for him at 2AM.

Richie woke up every day for a week and when his sexuality wasn’t plastered on the front page of TMZ, he went back. The same redhead was tending bar and smiled when he came in.

“The prodigal son returns! I thought you might have died last week.”

“That was just the warm up, baby. You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

--

Four months later, Richie had been coming to this place at least once a week and nobody bothered him except to wrinkle their nose at his shirt. He couldn’t tell if he liked it or hated it, but he couldn’t stay away, so he continued sitting in his corner where nobody could bother him.

On one such night. when he was full of whiskey and contemplation and the clock struck 1, he looked up at his redheaded bartender. “Bess.”

“You know I hate that nickname,” she said lightly, collecting her tip from the last customer to depart.

“Besserly!” he insisted.

“Stop calling me th--” She turned around and saw him sitting with his cheek on the cool surface of the bar. “Richard, that’s disgusting, get your head off the bar.”

“It’s fine.”

Liz filled a glass with water and put it in front of him, and Richie lifted his head just enough to slurp water from the glass.

“Richie, I’m gonna close up early so I have to kick you out soon, okay?”

“No!” He jolted up, panicked. Liz paused in her movements to look at him. “Not just-- I have to say a thing.”

“Okay,” Liz said cautiously. She stopped wiping the bar and watched Richie carefully. “What is it?”

“Okay. I’m... It’s a thing. I just am saying the thing. To you. Because you’re my bartender. Isn’t it funny how people will just say so much shit to their bartenders? Like, I know it’s easy to get a bartender confused with a therapist, you give both of them money to give you shit that makes you feel better and maybe makes you cry a lot-- oh, hey, you’re smiling! I knew I was funny, deep down.”

“You were gonna tell me something, Richie,” Liz prompted, idly wiping down the counter around him. “You don’t have to deflect if you don’t want to say it.”

“No, I just need to do it, you know? I just need to... get it out. Admit it. And then the world will keep turning and I can move on with my life. So, Besserly. Good old Queen Bess. Queen Lizzy-Lizabeth. Lizzy.” He drew in a deep breath, took her hand, and looked her right in the eyes. “Liz, I... I am... Uh. I’m, uh... The-- The thing is that I have to, uh, say that I’m... I’m just really.... I’m...”

His heart clenched so hard that his eyes watered. He wondered if he might be dying. Could be preferable to whatever was about to happen.

“Liz, I’m...” He let go of her hand and dropped his head to the bar, his voice muffled by the bar. “A dick. I’m a dick. Just figured I’d say it. First step is admitting you’re a problem and all.”

Liz patted his head and continued to clean, and Richie’s stomach sunk as he thought that she may have understood him after all.

--

It took a record seven months for someone in the bar to finally approach him.

Richie had to do a double take, and then a triple take when the boy sat down. He had clear, light skin and giant brown eyes, his hair combed down into the dorkiest haircut he had ever seen. His heart hurt at the sight.

“You okay, Richie?” The boy asked, his cheeks round and flushed.

“Uh.” Richie cleared his throat and tried again. He couldn’t work past the whisper of a memory that was begging to be unlocked. “That is... um.”

“You’re Richie Tozier, right? The comedian?” The man tilted his head, and the brief vision Richie was having disappeared. Still, this man was young in a way that made Richie feel every second of his thirty-eight years. He tried to shake off the feeling, but it slid like water through the cracks in his armor and settled into the marrow of his bones. He was suddenly too tired and not drunk enough.

“Debatable, but yes.” Richie smiled halfheartedly. “Richie Tozier, here to entertain.”

“It was just a question, dude,” the young man said, brow furrowed. 

Richie laughed suddenly and finished off his drink, then smiled politely as Liz refilled it. “Sorry, that was weird. You just... You remind me of someone. This boy from my hometown...”

Richie trailed off, studying the man, ignoring the painful clench in his stomach as he returned the gaze with a little heat in his enormous eyes, large and expressive and the stuff of his particularly curious nightmares.

“Yeah?” The man prompted. “Where is he now?”

“Well, I don’t... Don’t really know. Honestly, I don’t remember much of my childhood. It’s mostly, like, blurred pictures and shit.” He laughed. “Well, that sounds fucking stupid. Never mind.”

“It’s not stupid, Richie,” the man said, emphatic.

“Yeah?”

“No, it’s, like, fascinating. I mean, maybe it’s a good thing you don’t remember him.”

“Yeah, see, the thing about that is,” Richie said, sitting up straighter on his wobbly stool, “is that at least people who remember the shit they do, they get to know they don’t want it. The thing about forgetting is that you’ve lost a piece of the puzzle. You don’t get to decide you didn’t want it. Even if it’s super fucked up, you don’t get fucking trigger warnings or whatever. Just blankness. Like whiteout on your brain.”

“Yeah, well, knowing isn’t so much better. I broke up with my boyfriend three weeks ago and I wish I could pile up all his shit and set it on fire. I blocked him on everything and like, deleted all of his pictures on my stuff, but I can’t delete them up here.” The man tapped his temple. “Kind of wish I could. He was such an asshole.” A beat, and then-- “Maybe yours was, too.”

“Yeah, I wish. Having trauma would be great material for my stand-up, I wish I could remember it. Maybe my therapist will tell me after another ten thousand dollars.” He let out a rueful laugh, caught sight of the guy grinning at his joke, and laughed more genuinely.

“So you think this person was your friend?” The man asked. “Someone important?”

“Probably not if I can’t remember him,” Richie said with a shrug. “Must have just been some random dude I hung out with before I moved for college.”

The man gave Richie a searching look that Richie missed, and then put his hand over Richie’s. Richie ought to have reacted; he did not.

“Well, listen, maybe... if you want, we could finish our drinks and get out of here. I live close by.” He paused and lowered his voice to whisper into Richie’s ear. “I could be this guy for you, if you want.”

Richie should have been turned on by this twenty-something virile specimen with puppy-dog eyes and luscious lips breathing at his ear, but all he could feel was panic. He jerked back, though not fast enough to be unkind, and smiled as wide as he could.

“I mean, hey, who could turn down a proposition like that? Damn, you’re good at this, wow, but I kind of gotta get back home, can’t get back too late or else the missus is gonna have my ass for waking up the kids and it’ll really piss off my friend if he wakes up to me fuckin’ his mom so uh yeah sorry I’m just gonna”

He almost sprinted out of the bar, leaving his tab and an astonished, rejected man behind.

Richie leapt out of the uber the moment it got to his mansion and he sprinted inside to the bathroom. Richie conjured up the impossible image of this young man looking at him with want, his features changing just enough to push Richie over the edge with a forgotten name on his lips. 

In the aftermath, Richie panted in the dark, leaning on the counter for support as his legs threatened to give way. He finally lifted his head to look at himself and saw, for a moment, two glowing yellow eyes peering back at him.

[acciojaeyun]

magnetic field | ron weasley smut

pairing: ron weasley x fem!reader warnings: smut, nsfw (18+). i was listening to line without a hook while writing this. does that say something??? THIS IS ALSO A FUN SMUT kinks: mummy kink, sub!ron, dom!reader, oral (male and female receiving), innocence kink of some sort (if you squint), humiliation kink, spitting, getting caught sksksk prompts: "i'm bloody half-naked in my horrific pants, y/n -" "yeah, makes things easier for me."

a/n: IDK FSDUFHSDJKFHDKSJFH i hope i did this justice i WANT TO MAKE THIS FUN and i was running out of product ideas but hey the weasley twins and weasley sister had a cameo here. thank you for this request, anon!

summary: if there was a pair known for mutual pining, it would be ron weasley and y/n y/l/n. the magnetic field was two strong, just like two opposite charges in an electric field - however, they act as if they were the same to repel each other. but just like any law, it was time for fate to finally step in - through a product from the weasley's wizarding wheezes which also defied physics laws.

To say that Ronald Bilius Weasley is shy around Y/N Y/L/N is an understatement. He was at the borderline between intimidated and completely, utterly, head over heels attracted in all plausible ways to her.

Such is the reason he tried everything and almost anything to impress the lady she was absolutely smitten with - which included the aspects of the physical, intellectual, emotional, and well, sexual.

Not that the both of them had reached that level of their relationship. No, Ron was too shy to admit his liking towards her — and still continued to divert topics whenever he was asked about it. However, they were both aware of the feelings they held for each other. Just really a bit too stubborn to seal whatever they have right now.

But just like how fate meddles with things that are meant to be when it decides it is — fate had decided to act upon the withholding pair.

“Y/N’s here!” Ginny announced as she opened the door where Y/N outside at.

Other than Y/N was a potential love interest of one of the Weasley’s, she was loved and accepted as if she was Molly and Arthur’s own child; protected and annoyed by Fred and George; adored and looked up to by Ginny.

One way or another, it had placed an immense amount of pressure to Ron.

He, Ginny, and Y/N were invited by Fred and George to their shop one afternoon for them to try out their new product. And Y/N, being muggleborn and the one who had explained to the twins about gravity and its possibility to be defied after endless queries from the duo, was considered as the key person for the production of the prototypes. It is only required for them to invite her over for her initial thoughts as well as her criticism.

"Ah, there is the woman behind the amazing madness!" Fred grinned as he nudged George who was busy making a run-over at the couple of hats which Y/N assumes as the prototypes.

Y/N rolled her eyes, "You flatter me too much, Fred."

Fred winked at her and smirked knowingly at Ron, making the youngest brother to roll his eyes out of annoyance. He dare not say it, but Ron had always been a tad bit jealous of Fred, knowing how the older twin knew his way around girls - a part of him is convinced that his charm could be effective on Y/N.

"You brought us here for hats?" Ginny narrowed her eyes at the two, her train of thought clearly not following whatever her older brothers had in mind.

"Ah, not just any hats." George smirked as he stood up from where he sat on the stool beside the counter where the hats were stacked upon each other. "You see, Y/N here," Fred starts as he flashes yet another wink at Y/N - which, annoyed Ron to an infinite extent - none that Fred didn't know, though.

"Had explained to us about the existence of gravity and we've decided to defy it."

"Like the muggle scientists ourselves -"

"Who believes in fun rather than science itself."

"Well, what does it do?" Ron asks as he leans forward to reach for the hat before George takes a hold of it to put down. "Might wanna be careful playing with these, ickle Ronniekins."

"You don't want to float away - though, we wanna ruin your day."

The twins exchanged 'hey's' as they shared a high-five over Fred's hint, making the three exchange confused looks at what they're trying to imply.

"I think we would be much more of use if we knew how it works." Ginny rolled her eyes as she takes the then-seat of George, getting a candy from the counter for her to chew on as she starts to think how she had just exchanged Quidditch training just for the sake of visiting her brothers.

"Ah, right!" Fred beams, giving a hat to George. "George will be demonstrating the product."

George placed the hat on his head, and sooner enough, it flew as if someone was pulling the hat way from him. And George, being the 'best demonstrator' as Fred complimented, acted though as if he didn't know about what the hat does; gasping as if he was intensely distressed at his hat floating upwards whenever he tries to reach for it.

"Anti-Gravity Hats," Fred starts.

"A perfect gift for every gentleman."

"Makes them really ungently, if you ask me."

Y/N smirked at the magical item, and as the twins looked over her, they were immensely satisfied by the look of approval which Y/N exuded. "Well, I've got to say, you defied gravity there."

"Are you going to try it out on someone?" Ron asks as he steals the candy which Ginny was opening for him to eat. "I mean, you've gotta try this on at least not you - because who knows if it's faulty on anyone."

The twins and Ginny raised their eyebrows at Ron's comment, as if they did not expect the words coming out of his mouth. The younger brother rolled his eyes at the trio as Ginny slow-clapped at the idea.

"Oh, ickle Ronniekins!" Fred exclaimed, wiping non-existent tears with his finger.

"What a lovely idea coming from a lovely gentleman!" George adds as he gets a hat that sat on the counter.

Almost as immediately, another hat was placed on Ron's head, making Ron exude a look of worry and shock.

"What the bloody hell, Fred?! George?!" he exclaimed as he started feeling his body be stripped of the existence of gravity as he felt his clothes being sucked out of his body.

As the idea that it was not the hat floating through space but rather Ron's clothes being flown upwards along with the hat dawned upon the twins, and quickly coming to their brother's help, Fred and George had raised their wands in attempt to stop the faulty prototype.

"Arresto momentum!" Fred casts.

"Descendo!" George follows suit.

The hat, along with Ron's clothing, had decreased velocity and sooner enough floated downwards. But the items descended, a sheepish look was all Fred and George mustered as they walked towards the two girls and a scarred, confounded, and almost frozen into place Ronald Weasley.

"That was a faulty prototype." Fred starts as he discards of the hat with a shake of his head.

"We're sorry for that, Ronnie." George looks at him, trying to not laugh as Ron stood in nothing but a pair of boxers - but not just any ordinary boxers.

"Now, that, my friend is a prank!" Fred exclaims, snapping Ron out of his shocked state as he realises that he was only in his pants which had multiple, red hearts patterned nicely across the fabric. And while Ron was used to being put into embarrassing situations because of pranks done by his brother - he certainly didn't like the fact that he was almost half-naked, not to mention, in front of Y/N.

"Bloody hell, you two!" Ron scowls at them before hurrying up the stairs to the twins' flat at the floor above the shop. The twins and Ginny had erupted into amused laughter as Y/N blushed over what she had seen.

Though she thinks it might have been traumatising on Ron's part, she couldn't help but feel herself getting turned on at the exposure of Ron's body - which, Y/N notes, had been toned due to excessive Quidditch training in their schooling years - as well as Ron's flustered state when their eyes have met.

Y/N excused herself from the trio and followed where Ron had ran upstairs. Pushing a door which was slightly ajar which had notified her that Ron may be inside, she was met by a frantic ginger trying to scurry in closet after closet in the hopes of trying to clothe himself with.

"Ron?" Y/N asks as she steps inside in with a light knock, and as Ron turns around he lets out a small shriek as he covers his torso with a rather small shirt which he throws away to replace with a much smaller one.

The girl laughs at Ron's attempt to shield himself from her eyes, which makes Ron flustered even more. Much to Ron's objective to free himself from an embarrassing exchange with the girl he is head-over-heels attracted to, he finds himself running towards George's bed to hide his body underneath the thick duvet of his brother's bed.

"I - er, bloody hell, Y/N. That was embarrassing, I'm sorry -" Ron apologises, refusing to look into Y/N's eyes which, had Ron been closer to look at it clearly, had darkened in lust at his incessant humiliation.

"Something I like," Y/N smirks as she walked towards Ron who scurried backwards until he found himself reprimanded as his back hit the headboard of the bed.

"Y/N, what are you doing?" he asks as Y/N never ceased in walking slowly towards him. "Testing out the waters," Y/N replied casually as she takes a seat on the bed, "you're taking an awful lot of time, Ron."

"I'm bloody half-naked in my horrific pants, Y/N -"

"Yeah, makes things easier for me."

Ron lets out a breath as Y/N towers over him to finally taste what they had been withholding themselves from. Her hands tugging firmly on the duvet which reprimands her from being able to take in the sight before her, she pulls it down from Ron's body as the boy reciprocated the action by pushing himself out from the doubling warmth erupting from the kissing as well as the thickness of the duvet.

"Y/N -" Ron objects as he realises Y/N was a virgin.

"Ron, I'm ready," she states as she straddles his waist, hands reaching for Ron's wand that had fallen at the ground to cast a locking spell on the door before ridding herself her upper garments.

Unbuttoning her blouse, she rocked her hips back and forth on Ron's clothed crotch, making his cock harden underneath the feeling of her warm, clothed cunt running over it.

"Oh, mummy, that's it," Ron nods as he takes a hold of her waist, pushing her down on his crotch to increase the pressure on his dick, making the both of them moan in the euphoric feeling.

Something about what Ron had called her clicked inside of Y/N, and though she was nothing but innocent and inexperienced, she clasped the claw clip that held her hair in a bun to let her locks flow from her head, leaning forward to hold on the headboard as she meets Ron's eyes which held the same lust and love as that of her's.

"Yeah, you like what mummy's doing to you, Ronnie?" she bites her lip as she increases the speed of her rutting on Ron's crotch, making moaning as Ron unclasped her bra for him to suck on as she towered over his body.

Ron let out a moan of approval to her question as his nails dug deep on the skin of her waist as he sucked, bit, and licked her perky nipple in his mouth, eliciting a long moan from Y/N.

"Mummy likes her tits being sucked, baby," Y/N whimpers, feeling herself pooling in arousal as she started not just to rut but also to hump on him, "you're being such a good boy for mummy, Ron."

"Oh, fuck," Ron moans as he lets go of her right breast in order to bite on his lips as he feels his climax approaching him faster than expected. "Mummy, don't stop - please, gonna come - n-not gonna last - ah!" he exclaims as his hips meet the thrust of Y/N, chasing his orgasm.

"That's it, fall apart for mummy, darling." Y/N taunts, as she brought Ron's hand on her breast for him to pinch as she watches him fall apart in her hands.

"Y/N, mummy -" Ron gasps as he came inside of his pants, cheeks reddening at the thought, but he couldn't care less. "Merlin, fuck, I - that was -"

"The hottest thing I've ever seen." Y/N commented as she leaned forward again to push her tongue on Ron's mouth. This time, harsher and much more passionate than the first.

Ron's hands tugged on Y/N's trousers, making her chuckle, "Wanna see mummy naked like you, don't you, baby?" she asks breathlessly.

"Mhm," Ron agrees, "don't want to be the only one half-naked, mummy."

Y/N pulls herself away from the kiss as she tugs her trousers down, arousal in her underwear pooling at Ron's hungry stare over her exposed body. "Mummy's so beautiful," Ron murmurs as his hand went to her neck to pull her in a loving kiss, the endless pining finally coming to a resolve.

Sooner enough, all of their clothes had been discarded on the floor as they devoted themselves in kisses and tongue. With the tip of Ron's cock teasing her entrance, and with every rock of her hips had her moaning at the unintentional teasing, she pushes herself up from her leaning over Ron.

"Gonna try something, baby, is that alright?"

"Do whatever you want, mummy,"

Ron watches Y/N swivel her body around as she pushes her underwear down. In about a matter of seconds, Ron was in between of her thighs that held such a small confinement to his head.

"Shit," Ron gasps as he felt her hands holding his erected cock. "Baby's firm. Who did this to you, baby?" she asks as she ghosts her fingers over his member, making Ron shiver in delight.

"You, mummy," he replies as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around her legs to push her farther to lick a bold stripe on her dripping cunt, "you."

Y/N moaned as she finds the strength of her knees failing her when she relishes in Ron eating her out as his hands knead her ass. "Oh, Merlin, Ron - right there - oh, my god," she drawls as her right hand comes to her breast for her to pinch her nipples.

"Doing so bloody good for mummy, aren't you Ron?" she tries to ask as her left hand takes a firm grip on Ron, making him reply in a groan. She opens her mouth to spit on Ron's dick, spreading her saliva around him as she tightly jerked Ron off who soon became a whiny mess as he tried so hard to lap on her pussy.

A gasp from Y/N and a groan from Ron was heard as she takes his length inside her mouth when Ron pushed a finger inside her with his hips snapping up which made Y/N choke on his dick.

Moans and groans, as well as the wet slapping of skin, were heard throughout the room as they desperately tried to chase their high.

"Doing so good for mummy, Ron," Y/N moaned as she felt the third finger being inserted into her after Ron felt like she was being accustomed to the constant addition of fingers, the idea of her being new to all of this (much to Ron's disbelief), "Fuck!" she drawls as she halts from giving him head to dwell in the pleasure, her hand replacing her mouth.

"Mummy, you're so bloody amazing - i'm about to -"

"Yes, baby, I am, too."

As they continued on bringing each other over the edge, they both soon came, the coil at the pits of their stomach snapping as Y/N let out a squeal as she feels Ron lapping on her pussy as she came.

"Fuck," she whispered as Ron decelerated in his movements, his head falling limp on the pillows. She licked Ron's cock in the attempt of having a taste of his cum, making Ron squirm at the sensitivity.

Y/N hoisted her body up as she turned around to lay down on Ron's body as he still recovered from his orgasm. As they laid in silence, Ron leaned down to kiss on her hair as his hand ran through her hair.

They were about to completely doze off and completely forget where they were until they heard George's voice inside the room, making the couple shriek and Ron cover the duvet around their exposed body.

"Cast a silencing charm the next time you decide it to do it in our room," George chuckles as he gets something from the dresser. "Also, I expect my bed to be clean the next time I'm here."

"I've got to say, ickle Ronniekins," Fred suddenly joins as he eyed them whilst leaning on the doorframe, "our Anti-Gravity Hat did so much more than defying gravity, don't you think?"

"Sod off," Ron grumbled, while his heart fluttered at Y/N's laughter.

"About time they did something, though." George nodded at him as he still continued rummaging through his dresser. "Could you please hurry up, George?" Ron groaned, running a hand over his face.

George turned around to throw him a shirt, "Hey, I didn't interrupt you having sex," he turned around as he took a hold of his beanie, "this is the only way you could thank me."

"Oh, Georgie, we're expecting more than words of gratitude." Fred laughed as he pushed himself away from the doorframe, receiving the beanie and scarf which George gave him, "We'll be at the Apothecary, Ginny went to training." George says as he takes a hold of the doorknob.

"Congratulations, also, Ron and Y/N." Fred winks.

"And Y/N," George called out, "take care of our ickle Ronniekins, yeah?"

[undersero]

addicted

this is my (several days late) piece for @seita's corrupt-a-virgin collab! thanks a bunch for letting me participate!

pairing: toru oikawa x fem reader

contains: unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, swearing, corruption and corruption kink, loss of virginity, very light dacryphilia.

word count: 3036

**this work is intended for 18+ audiences only. minors do not interact. do not repost my work or recommend it on any other platform**

“Oh, it feels good though, doesn’t it?” he chuckles, breath wafting over your face as his fingers press against your crotch through the fabric of your panties.

It does feel good and you think that’s the worst part of it all. Toru’s fingers feel good, they feel so fucking good in fact that you’re embarassed at the memories of your own fingers between your legs like this, desperately trying to get yourself off to no avail.

“Hey,” he murmurs, nudging your noses together gently, making you catch his gaze; his eyes are so dark now that they look like molten dark chocolate. It’s only seconds until you’re lost in them.

“Hm?” you mumble, face horribly warm.

“Does it feel good?”

“Yeah,” the response tumbles from your mouth without any prompting from your brain. Toru smiles at you, dazzling and breathtaking as ever.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips. His fingers continue their slow circles against the fabric and it isn’t long before you feel wetness spreading around, making the fabric heavier and sticky.

It feels good, it really does- so good. He knows what he’s doing, that’s clear, but you try to push that thought from your mind with moderate success; he’s here with you now. That’s what matters. Someone as handsome and charming as Toru couldn’t go without pussy, and what was the harm? You’re enjoying it, reaping the benefits of his experience-

“Getting lost in that pretty little head of yours?” he coos, smiling against your cheek. Before you can answer, he’s speaking again. “I need to up my game, then,” he sucks slightly on your earlobe before pulling away. Long, elegant fingers hook underneath the flimsy fabric of your panties and he pulls down, exposing your glistening, aroused cunt to him.

You whimper, gasping slightly as your panties are slid away and the cooler air of the room hits your flushed skin. Out of instinct, you try to close your thighs, to hide your soft pussy from him, but he’s quick to keep your legs parted with his hands.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he chides playfully, smirking at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Keep these pretty legs open, baby. Can you do that? Be a good girl for me, now.”

Slowly, his index finger slides up and around your folds, the sensation eliciting a whine from you immediately. Your nerves alight with pleasure, tingling in a way you’ve never been able to feel from your fingers alone. This was better than anything you’d ever tried, and at this point you’re too far gone, too given in to the pleasure, to care if Toru knows that or not.

“Mmmmf,” you whimper, pressing your lips together tightly, and you hear a kind, amused chuckle from your lover.

“Sounds like you’re purring for me,” he tells you, leaning in to steal another kiss from your sweet lips. “Must mean you like this, huh?”

He tilts his head at you, waiting patiently and adorably for an answer. You’re able to nod, mouth suddenly too dry to let him know by speaking. But that seems to be okay with him, in fact, he seems to really enjoy the fact that you can’t speak at the moment.

“So if this feels good,” he continues, talking out loud to himself like you’re not even there, “then this must feel pretty great, huh?”

As he speaks, his fingers part your folds and he circles the pad of his finger against your clit. A loud cry tumbles from your lips immediately, pleasure surging through you at a dizzying pace as Toru plays with the acing, hard bud.

“Well, lookie here,” he says in that slightly mocking sing-song voice, “I’d say you like that, don’t you, baby?”

You don’t answer. You can’t. It feels so good, too good, and your toes are curling, back is arching, wetness spreads through you like you’ve never felt it before.

And then it’s gone. Toru takes his hands off you completely, causing your cunt to throb almost violently with the loss.

“Toru!” you whine, sounding more pathetic than you meant to, and if you weren’t so desperate, you would be embarrassed by how it sounds.

“I asked you a question, little girl,” he tells you, and though his voice is light and playful, there’s an edge underneath it. His eyes are hard. Looking back on this in hindsight, you realize he’s molding you here, shaping you into exactly what he wants.

The next words out of your mouth show him that you’ll allow this.

“It feels good, I like it,” you whimper, lips quivering, suddenly upset at the thought that you may have upset him or disappointed him in some way. Your hips move downward, sliding down the bed toward Toru, seeking out more of that pleasure.

“That’s what I was looking for,” he approves, sliding his hands back between your folds and returning his fingers to their work of circling your clit.

“I expect you to answer me when I ask you questions, princess,” he says, “otherwise I’ll have to punish my sweet girl… and we wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

You bristle. No. You don’t want that.

“Right,” you whimper, voice shaky and unsturdy with the pleasure he’s giving you, “don’t want that.”

And then he’s his normal self once more, sweet and teasing and mocking you in a sweet voice; completely being the Toru you know and love. This had been an experiment, you’ll realize later, to see what he could make you do, and to see what all he could get from you. You played right into his hand. Like taking candy from a baby...only easier.

“I’m gonna put my mouth on it, ‘kay?”

His next words pull you from your blissed pleasure quickly, like yanking you out of a warm, wet dream.

“Gonna do what?”

He laughs at your slurred words, settling himself on the floor between where your legs have draped over the side of the bed.

“I’m gonna put my mouth on this pretty little pussy,” he repeats, letting his lewd intentions drip off each letter as a triumphant grin spreads over his lips as you become visibly more flushed and shy and turned on than you were before.

“Why would you do that?” you want to know. Your question is met with another chuckle.

“Why don’t you be quiet and let me do it,” he replies, “and then you’ll know the answer to that question.”

You nod, face burning, and he winks at you, long lashes framing beautifully dark eyes, and then he bows his head and all you can see are the chocolate waves of his hair, where your fingers quickly find purchase once he slides his tongue over your folds, licking in one long, sloppy swipe.

It sends shivers up your spine, your mouth falls open, a whimper falling from it before you can register what’s happened. He repeats the action, using his strong hands to pull your thighs up to hook over his shoulders. All you can focus on is his tongue, is the way it feels like magic. It makes you cry out with each stroke over your folds.

His right hand is spread out at the bottom of your belly, beautiful fingers over soft skin, and his thumb starts swiping at your clit intermittently, in time with when he’s sliding his tongue over you. The added stimulation makes you groan and whine, catching your teeth harshly between your lips as you have to close your eyes from pleasured tears welling behind them.

Your back nearly snaps in half when he swirls his tongue around your clit. It sends every nerve alight with pleasure, his soft, wet, delicious tongue working against the sensitive nub is a dream, and the feeling of it makes you damn near lose all your senses.

At that moment, you don’t know your name. You don’t know how old you are or where you’re from, and you don’t even remember what you had for dinner that night. All you know is Toru and his tongue and his long, beautifully expert fingers and how they can make you feel like a goddess and bring you into a world of pure pleasure. Your brain is mushy, unable to string together a thought, let along a sentence, so the only thing falling from your lips as you rake your hands through beautifully styled trusses of Toru’s hair is broken syllables of his name.

It’s not long before you feel a different kind of euphoria creeping around the edges of your pleasure, blurring it, bringing it to zenith, the likes of which you’ve never known before. Your fingers haven’t brought you pleasure like this before, nor did your vibrator; no, this was unparalleled and uncharted territory.

“To-ru!” you cry out, voice hoarse and strained as you tug on his hair. “I’m go-nna,” you try to tell him, words failing you completely. He pays you no mind, continuing to slurp and suck and lick at your cunt and your clit, humming against your skin as though he’s completely unbothered.

One final sob leaves your lips before you cum harder than you ever have before. It washes over you like a wave so powerful that it nearly drowns you. Your vision spots white as tears fall from the corners of your eyes, and somewhere deep inside, you know that you’re addicted now, addicted to Toru and his tongue and what he can do with it. There’s no hope for you to ever escape, but it’s a good thing you don’t want to.

Your entire body, each nerve, sings with pleasure so bright and golden that you feel like you’re glowing, and from Toru’s perspective, you are. You look gorgeous in your bliss, and he’s so lucky, he thinks, to have such a wonderful seat from which to see it.

“Think you’re ready for me to put it in, babe?” Toru asks you, his voice now deeper than it had been. You blink at him, not comprehending, and he grins. The now familiar heat on your cheeks continues to burn as you see his slicked chin, clit throbbing as you know what he did to you to make such a mess of himself.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks , tilting his head with a slight blush on his cheeks, which only makes you heat up more.

“Yeah,” you whine out, causing his lips to pull into a grin. He kisses you again, and you taste your cunt on his mouth, much to your embarrassment and arousal. The slick of his chin slides over yours, but you’re unbothered by it. If anything, it excites you more because it’s messy and it’s sexy and it’s naughty.

“My good girl,” he coos affectionately, smirking at you. His fingers slide down your thighs before he speaks again, “I’m gonna finger you open now, okay?” He asks, concern evident in his tone.

“Yes,” you murmur, feeling the heat of arousal begin to pool again in your stomach as he begins touching your folds with his fingers. Then, he slides his index finger into the warm cavern of your cunt.

It feels weird. Good, but weird. Your body tenses a little bit, and you mewl, but he’s quick to soothe you with soft words.

“It’s okay, babe,” he murmurs, curling his finger gently as he fucks you with it. So slow. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” you groan, feeling wetness spread through you once more as his finger continues its slow, thorough path into and out of you. It’s another moment before you relax.

“That’s a good girl,” Toru says proudly, grin pulling at his lips as he slides another finger into you. Quickly, his hand is slick with your arousal, it’s dripping down his fingers and to the back of his hand, staining the sheets below you.

The second finger is easier to take now; it slides in easier and the pressure against your walls is delightful. As he hooks his fingers, you arch your back, feeling the soft pads of his fingers press against soft, spongy spots inside you that you never could have dreamed to reach with your own hand.

Toru’s third finger has your eyes prickling with tears of pleasure. It’s good, so good, to feel so full. Spit is dribbling from the side of your lip, but you’re unable to feel it, unable to realize you’re drooling for this man and his fingers. Arousal rushes from your cunt like a waterfall, the sheets underneath you will have to be changed because you’ve made them so wet. Never in your wildest dreams did you believe there were so many glorious spots within your walls, but now that Toru’s found them, all of them, you can’t imagine not having this again. You’re addicted to this feeling, too, to his fingers just as much as his mouth, and--

His fingers are gone.

It takes you a moment to register the loss, but when you do, you whimper, and it is so amusing that Toru huffs out a laugh through his nose. He’s standing now, pushing your body further up the bed and crawling over you. His cock, which is as pretty as his fingers, is red and throbbing from his own arousal. You’ve done that to him. You’ve made him that hard.

“Gonna fuck you now, sweet thing,” he rumbles in a deep voice. His hand fists around his cock and he tugs at it, grunting at the semblance of relief he finds in the action. “‘S it okay if I do that?”

“I think if you don’t fuck me, I’ll lose my mind,” you tell him in a slurred voice that feels disconnected from your body.

And he does. You’re wet enough that his cock splits you open with ease, although the size of it isn’t something you expect. As he hovers over you, his hand slides over your hair, petting it in a soothing gesture. He’s speaking to you softly, but you can’t hear the words because your heart is beating too loudly.

“Sweetheart,” he says, firmly now as his hand slides around your jaw. This brings you out of whatever reverie you’re in, and you’re able to look at him, albeit with a bleary gaze.

“Hm?” you mumble.

“Does it hurt?” he asks you, brow furrowed. You consider for a moment. No, it doesn’t hurt… you don’t want it to stop. It’s just...weird.

“No,” you say, shaking your head, “feels weird.”

His face relaxes and the line between his brows disappears as he smiles at you.

“Can you let me keep going?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

Soon, his pelvis is flush against you as his cock is fully inside your cunt. The heat, the stretching, the intimacy of it makes your body and your insides feel hotter than the surface of the sun.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, rubbing his hands over your belly. “Taking my cock so well baby. Fits so nice in that little pussy, doesn’t it?”

“Yuh-yeah,” you whimper, holding onto his arms so tightly that your nails are cutting crescents into his skin, but neither of you can be brought from the moment to care.

“Still feel weird?” he wants to know.

“Al-m-ost good,” you pant out with great effort, cheeks burning with heat.

“You feel so good…” he starts kissing your jawline toward your ear, nibbling along the lobe and the cartilage, tugging gently with his teeth, just enough to make you whimper out, “...gonna start fucking you know, ‘kay pretty girl?”

“‘Kay, Toru.”

His hips move slowly, and it only takes two or three thrusts before almost good starts feeling a little good; and in mere moments, a little good morphs into really good. There’s a slight wet noise coming from where you’re coupled, and if you weren’t so high on your lover you’d be embarrassed by it, but you don’t care and neither does he.

His cock fills you even more perfectly than his fingers. It drags along every inch of you, rubbing, stimulating, enchanting your cunt and entire body with pleasure you’ve never known before.

“Toru,” you groan, hands finally releasing his arms to slide up and brush through his hair.

His face is flushed, a pretty pink color, and his eyes are so dark you don’t see any difference between pupil and iris. Sweat gleams on his forehead, and he’s staring into your eyes with the most intense, loving, needy gaze you’ve ever seen directed at you. His gaze makes you feel known. It makes you feel seen. It scares you and delights you, all at the same time.

“Taking my cock so well, baby,” he praises. “Like a little pro, you were made for this,” his words are cut off by a groan and he presses his face into your shoulder, hips moving slightly faster now as his own orgasm comes closer to his grasp. His balls slap your ass more frequently, the bed frame starts creaking and smacking against the wall, and your wails of pleasure are louder. Toru’s fingers are no longer calm and practiced as they swipe over your clit; now they’re frenzied and shaking.

“Gonna cum,” is the only warning you can say before you cry out, back arching as his cock presses against that particularly wonderful place inside you, as his fingers swipe just right.

You’re cumming, tugging his hair and whimpering out pathetically. Your walls clamp around his cock, milking it, and soon, his hips pause. They press in once more, and he moans, cock spurting ropes of hot cum along your walls.

Both of your breathing is ragged. Your heart is pounding so hard you can almost see it through your chest, and as Toru slumps against your body, you can feel heart battering his ribcage, too.

It’s quiet for a long time, but you don’t know how long it really is. Time moves slower now, it doesn’t make as much sense. All you know is that Toru’s hair smells wonderful. His weight on you is out of this world. His softened cock, his cum, his fingers, all are things you’re addicted to now.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

[verfound]

Congrats on 500 followers! 🥳 Can I request "hiding their face in the other’s neck" for the hug prompt? 🥰

The kwamis have been taking over everywhere, even here.  Oops?  😂                                           

The fire alarm started beeping again, and Luka groaned as he pressed his face harder against Marinette’s neck.  She giggled as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, one of her hands reaching up to brush through his messier-than-usual hair.  She was pretty sure the white stuff dusting his tips was flour, though she couldn’t for the life of her figure out why it was there.

…actually, no.  She could – she knew exactly why the flour was there.  She just couldn’t figure out why he had thought he’d needed it.

“Luka,” she said, as patiently and sympathetically as she could.  He actually whimpered as he held her closer.  Which…was nice, ok.  Normally she loved Luka’s hugs.  But this was starting to get a little ridiculous.  “Lu.  Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

“Because that would mean exxxplaining why he needed to learn to bake,” Sass said, floating over from where he had just turned the smoke detector off.  The kwami’s presence wasn’t helping matters: she knew for a fact that Sass knew the recipe by heart, and he had still let Luka blunder on like…well, like the little shit he was.  “And burning his flat down sssseemed an easier option than admitting he knew your identity.  Sssomething about broken trussst and hypocritesssss or sssome sssuch nonsssenssse.”

“Traitor,” Luka grumbled into her neck.  Sass rolled his eyes before joining Tikki on the counter.  Marinette bit down on her smile when Tikki winked at her.  She turned her head, nudging Luka’s forehead with her nose.

“Hey,” she whispered, smiling as he peeked up at her.  “I kinda suspected you knew.  It’s part of why I asked you to take Sass full-time.”

“…you trusted me,” he mumbled.  She pressed her lips to his forehead, smiling when she heard his breath catch.

“I still do,” she said.  She giggled as she lifted her head, looking around the wreck that used to be his kitchen.  “Though maybe not with baking.  Seriously, Luka, what happened?”

“You entrusted me with a kwami that likes eggs,” he said.  He stood straighter, wincing a little when his back smarted after so long bent over her.  He sighed as he surveyed the kitchen.  “Meringues seemed more…portable?  Handy?  Than hardboiled eggs.  I was trying to be responsible.”

“Perish the thought!” Marinette gasped.  “A Couffaine?  Being responsible?  What would the Captain say?”

“She’d say I didn’t try hard enough if they just started smoking instead of burning,” he said dryly.  Marinette hid her face in his chest to muffle her laughter, her arms slipping from his shoulders to wrap around his middle.  He sighed and rested his cheek on the top of her head.  “If I get this mess cleaned up, can you please show me where I went wrong?”

“I would love to,” she said, snickering.  She looked up at him and bit her lip, grinning when she saw the smear of white beneath his eye.  She reached up to wipe it away, and he caught her hand and held it there.  Her heart stuttered at the look in his eyes.  “They…they take a while to bake, though.  Hour and a half at least.  Think you can put up with me that long?”

He was bending his head to hers, leaning closer with those eyes still locked on hers.  She sucked in a breath as he paused just shy of…

“…think you can put up with me?” he murmured, his eyes dropping to her lips.  Her tongue slid along her lower lip, nervously wetting it, and she would swear he pulled her closer.  He was moving closer still, closing that last bit of distance, and then…

…the freakin’ smoke detector went off.  Again.

[samstree]

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (1/3)

In which Jaskier chooses to lie, until he can no longer tell the truth.

(lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, geralt apologizes, post mountain, miscommunication, rated teen, read on AO3)

A big thanks to @wanderlust-t and @a-kind-of-merry-war for the prompt! <3

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4]

“You are gonna run after him again, just like that? Don’t you remember what he did to you? What you went through?”

Essi leans against the doorframe, her arms crossed in front of her chest, watching as Jaskier packs a second bag.

“Come one, poppet. Geralt was having a hard time back then, and now he’s come all the way to Oxenfurt to apologize.

“So what?”

“So I’m forgiving him.”

She grumbles a few rude words regarding the witcher’s lineage.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

“And this is way too easy! Why can’t you see a disaster waiting to happen until it hits you in the face?” Essi exclaims. “Do you know what I would have done? I would make him grovel! Give him the cold shoulder. Or…or at least play it cool for a while longer so he knows not to take you for granted again! Sorry, but I’m…not like you.”

“Um…excuse you. I am plenty cool!”

“There’s nothing cool about being utterly in love and then getting cast aside over and over again, Jaskier. You know that.”

Jaskier sighs, walks to Essi and pulls her into a tight hug, all his scattered doublets ignored.

“I’m going to be okay,” he tries to tuck her curls away from her eyes but fails.

“Are you?” When she pulls back, there’s something inscrutable in those blue eyes, the curtain of blonde hair obscuring her emotions. “When you came down from the mountain, the way you couldn’t even … I don’t know. I just need to make sure it won’t happen again.”

“It—” Jaskier opens his mouth to make an easy promise, but finds the words choking in his throat. “I, um—”

Essi squeezes him on the shoulder. “He’s apologized, profusely from what you told me, and he’s being nice now. He will certainly be nice for a while, but what happens after he wins you back? What’s preventing him from hurting you again?”

Jaskier has no answers for her, so he resorts to giving her another hug.

“At least, think about my cold shoulder tactic. Sometimes people need the reminder, just so they know what they can easily lose.”

“Essi—”

“Think about it.”

She presses a small kiss on Jaskier’s cheek and leaves him to his packing. Outside the window comes the familiar sound of Roache’s hooves, clicking against the cobblestone.

Jaskier straightens his tunic and lets out a heave. He can see Geralt is being good now, friendly even, after all these years of denying their friendship. Now, the witcher is even waiting downstairs to begin their next journey.

Essi is just being overly protective, Jaskier decides.

He winds down the stairs and finds Geralt cooing at Roach. The urge to melt in those golden amber eyes is overwhelming.

“We good?” Geralt takes Jaskier’s bags and secures them on Roach, side by side with his saddlebags.

“Good,” Jaskier lies.

 ---

The truth is, Jaskier has heard of this so-called “cold shoulder” tactic. He’s even contemplated it for longer than he’s willing to admit. Every time Geralt dismissed him as a friend, brushed him off, Jaskier couldn’t help but want to retaliate with equal measure.

What if he’s the one to give Geralt a time-out? What if when Geralt tells him to fuck off, he just…leaves? The same idea churned in Jaskier’s stomach for two decades, but in the end, he knows the answer—he can never bring himself to go through it. His feet would carry him back to Geralt before even taking a step away.

He was left anyway.

But now…

Jaskier can’t afford to be left again. Essi was right. He isn’t sure if he can pick himself up again. He barely managed it the first time.

Jaskier lets out an audible scoff as he comes to the realization. He’s going to do it. The cold shoulder tactic. It’s so cheesy that it feels like something only school girls would use to get attention from a crush. Keep your distance, string him along a little. That’s how you get him to notice you exist—

“Something funny?” Geralt turns on horseback, sunlight peaking through his silver hair, a curious frown between his brows. He’s towering, beautiful. He has always been the most beautiful person Jaskier knows, even if he doesn’t know it.

Jaskier strums an absent chord on his lute. “Just something Essi said.”

“Hmm.” Geralt nudges Roach forward. “I was thinking… You’ve never seen a basilisk, have you?”

“No?”

“There are rumors about a nest in the next town. Want to see it?”

A hint of smile hints at Geralt’s lips, and Jaskier’s heart almost leaps out of his throat. A basilisk hunt is one he’s been dying to watch for years, if not decades. He’s drooling with excitement just thinking about the ballad that will certainly sweep the continent off its feet.

“Of course I want—" The sentence stops in its tracks. Jaskier bites his tongue to hide the slip. “You know what, I think I’ll stay in town. This new song needs some polishing before its debut. I’m sure a big witcher such as yourself doesn’t need a bard’s moral support for a meager basilisk, right?”

Jaskier adds a wink for good measure, but Geralt is not amused. He’s staring from his vantage point, his expression inexplicable. Is it really so shocking that Jaskier will turn Geralt down this once, after all this time?

“I understand.” Geralt pauses before continuing, almost too carefully. “Perhaps I can help? Sing it for me tonight?”

“Sing it…for you?” Jaskier asks, dumbfounded. The lute in his hands suddenly feels a lot weightier than it is.

“You wanted my review for so long, Jaskier. I’m giving it to you now. I’m sure your playing will be…nice.”

Geralt looks at him with hope in his eyes, and Jaskier can’t help but let his ego grow a little. It’s unbelievable that a simple refusal is what got Geralt to finally say anything positive about his music. The tiny triumph fills his chest with unexpected giddiness.

“Maybe I will. We shall see,” he replies. His fingers strike another chord.

Jaskier feels a spring in his steps, urging him forward to the mare’s steady gait. Golden amber eyes are burning a hole into his back, but he doesn’t dare to look back lest the tiny bubble of this perfect moment break.

 ---

Night falls, and Jaskier scribbles down another line. The door opens and Geralt drags his feet into their shared room.

Jaskier makes no effort to get up.

Once upon a time, he would have raced across the room to greet Geralt, checked for injuries and fussed over any scrapes and cuts, all the while getting dismissed with the witcher’s grumbled words. He’d help remove those heavy armors when Geralt’s muscles ache from exhaustion and get ichor all over himself.

He will not do that tonight.

Play it cool, Essi’s words echo in his memory. Right, he’s doing things differently now.

Jaskier fixes his gaze on the notebook in his lap and listens as Geralt shuffles around the room, putting everything back in place. One by one, his armor pieces drop in the corner of the room.

“How was it?” he asks with the most nonchalant tone as if he’s just noticed the other man’s existence.

“Fine. The basilisk’s dead.”

“Hmm.”

Jaskier chooses the single hum uncharacteristically as Geralt puts his swords against the doorframe and sits down on the single chair.

He’s so still, hovering even.

“What?” Jaskier finally looks at him. Geralt, as he claimed, looks fine, with only a smudge of a black ichor sticking to his hair. A frown appears between his brows.

Adorable.

Jaskier shakes the thought quickly.

“Your new song?” Geralt prompts.

“Oh yeah. Never mind. I don’t feel like singing.”

It’s another lie. A necessary one, Jaskier tells himself.

“You,” Geralt says, raising an eyebrow, “don’t feel like singing?”

Jaskier clutches the notebook to his chest almost defensively, not sure what to do with the accusation. Is it a tragedy that Geralt knows him like the back of his hand? Or is it a shame that Jaskier is indeed buzzing with excitement to test out this song, with the most important person in his life?

“Well, I don’t.”

Jaskier keeps his chin up and scrambles off the bed to put away his books and pens. Geralt’s intent gaze is on his back again.

“Twenty years, and I’ve never known you to turn down an opportunity to sing.”

“I guess you don’t know me that well,” Jaskier bites back with a force that seems to come out of nowhere. “The bard may not want to entertain all the time, darling.”

The endearment sounds false, more like a jab. He lets out a dry chuckle and hopes to ease the tension but to no avail. Geralt’s eyes are wide with surprise. So Jaskier reaches for his bedroll as a distraction, but only serves to make the confusion deepen on Geralt’s face.

“What are you doing?”

Jaskier lays it by the fire, on the soft rug that magically seems clean enough. It should be self-explanatory, but apparently not because Geralt is still staring quizzically.

“Sleeping.”

Geralt looks at the double bed and then back at Jaskier. “On the floor?”

“Thought I’d give you the space. I know how keyed up you are after the potions.”

Jaskier can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the nervous energy buzzing as more words he doesn’t mean comes out of his mouth. He crosses his legs on the bedroll and pulls the blanket onto his lap to hide from Geralt’s scrutiny. But then, something dawns on Geralt’s face.

“Jaskier…” Geralt rubs his forehead, his face pinched. “What I said in Oxenfurt, I meant it.”

“You do?”

“You can count on me now. It won’t be like…before.”

Their gazes meet, and Jaskier bears the intensity of it with everything he has. He feels bare, seen through by the amber gold he’s missed and cursed and loved so much.

“I’m here, and I’m all here, Jaskier. Please believe in me.”

“I do.”

It’s not the truth despite how much he wants to believe it. Jaskier wonders if lying to Geralt ever becomes easier.

He doesn’t know what is not convincing him. Geralt looks so genuine, and Jaskier wants more than anything to trust him again, but the smile on his face feels too stiff.

The plan is going as Jaskier wanted. He’s showing Geralt that his friendship doesn’t come freely anymore, and the witcher needs to make more effort, meet him halfway, somehow. Then how come as the quiet night creeps in, Jaskier only finds a hollow space in his chest?

The roaring fire in the hearth warms his back, but Jaskier clutches his blanket tighter. It can’t stave off the coldness left by the lack of a witcher’s body by his side.

 ---

Jaskier continues with the same scheme the next day.

Ignoring Geralt is not a difficult task in the beginning. The barmaid is a beautiful thing, doe-eyed and curious, has too many questions for her own good. She keeps asking about Jaskier’s ballads, and wouldn’t quite believe any crazy stories in them.

“Is it true that the White Wolf fought a sea serpent on the Skellige Isles? Surely, those creatures only exist in legends!”

She’s getting familiar, pressed up against Jaskier on the bench, almost pushing him back into Geralt’s side—the real subject of the topic, but it’s obvious her fascination lies only in Jaskier. Her brown eyes stay on the bard alone.

“Why don’t we find somewhere more private and I’ll tell you all about it?”

“Is it a good one? It must be a heroic tale, isn’t it?”

“Heroic, of course. There’s also a twist. I won’t spoil it for you, but—” Jaskier winks, his fingers brushing past her wrist. “—it’s a love story that holds more heartbreak than you can bear.”

Her giggles are like soft wind chimes, and Jaskier guides her away from their table. He takes two steps and turns back, smacking himself on the head as if he’s only just thought of it.

“Oh, shoot! I know I promised to go the market with you, Geralt, but you see…” He gestures to the girl waiting expectantly in the near distance. There’s nothing I can do about it, he says with a shrug. “Have a good time, will you?”

Geralt is holding his tankard, his knuckles white and his face ice-cold. It’s like Jaskier is looking at one of those ice sculptures made by Oxenfurt’s art students every winter.

“You said you’d come.”

Geralt’s voice is so gentle, so full of dejection that Jaskier’s resolve almost breaks. He clears his throat and darts his eyes elsewhere. Those acting coaches back in school would have been disappointed in him for letting his emotions peak through, but Geralt doesn’t seem to notice what’s underneath this front.

“Surely you can find a new bridle for Roach by yourself,” Jaskier waves his hand in dismissal. “You are a big witcher.”

Geralt opens his mouth and closes it, before speaking again. “And the pastry shop you wanted to visit?”

Jaskier thinks of the lemon cakes he’s been itching to try and swallows the yearning in his throat. Gods, being with Geralt all day with not a care in the world, and with the best sweets on the continent. What is he doing turning all this down?

“Well,” he insists, “Better company comes before cake, my dear.”

With that, Geralt lets go of the topic. His amber eyes drop back to the half-finished ale. “Better company. I see…”

“Surely you understand, Geralt.”

“Just—” Geralt purses his lips in an attempt at a smile. “Don’t exaggerate too much.”

Jaskier should feel bad as he walks out the tavern door with a beauty on his arm, he should, but instead, a pang of anger rises in his throat. How many times did Geralt abandon him at the sight of Yennefer in the past few years? How long did he brood on top of that mountain, recounting every bad choice he’d made in his life and decided that it was all Jaskier’s doing?

For once, Jaskier doesn’t want to put Geralt first in everything, waiting for a bone thrown in his direction, and the witcher—this infuriating man—is going to act like a kicked puppy.

Horrified at this burning rage, Jaskier turns only to watch helplessly as Geralt walks down the street in the opposite direction. He’s planted to the spot, unable to chase Geralt down, and clueless as to whether this plan is doing him any favors other than the fleeting satisfaction of getting back at his friend who was at fault.

Was.

Geralt was at fault. Jaskier has forgiven him, or at least, that’s what he said at first sight of his witcher’s travel-weary face back in Oxenfurt.

And yet, he’s punishing him still.

The barmaid is still waiting for Jaskier’s stories, her cheeks still round with a timid blush and her eyes gleaming with expectations.

The colorful adventures taste stale on his tongue and she loses interest too quickly before returning to her post. His mood sours further as the day stretches on.

Jaskier ends up wandering around town without an aim in mind. The only place he’s carefully avoiding is the market, and the stable, and the smith’s shop. Anywhere he might bump into Geralt. When night draws in, a sudden downpour catches him off guard and drenches him from inside out.

Great. Just the perfect ending to the worst—well, the second worst day of Jaskier’s life.

Candles are still lit as Jaskier enters the room. He finds Geralt fast asleep already, and on the table, right next to his writing supplies, is a lemon cake.

It’s drizzled in honey and looks just as enticing as he imagined.

Jaskier picks it up and finds a lump forming in his throat, choking him with guilt. He wants to scream, to let out the frustration at all the mistakes made in the past and haunting him still. He wants to cry. It’s just…

Now, he doesn’t know if he still deserves to.

---

Okay, I know I'm being mean to Geralt here, but don't worry, I’ gonna be mean to Jaskier in the next one ;) 

Also, whatever Jaskier is doing here is very unhealthy. Don't try this at home.

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[endlessymphony]

only one || s.b

sirius black x non gryffindor reader

summary - who isn’t in love with Sirius? messy love confessions and awkwardness. wc - 1.4k

based on this prompt — “I chose you. I’ll always choose you, no matter who comes in the way. There’s no one else.” found here

warnings - the usual cussing

a/n - ngl, this is purely self-indulgent. also had to make a reference to my favourite headcanon- french speaking Sirius.

Sirius Black was notorious for having people fawning over him constantly- it often seemed like everyone wanted him, but how could you blame them?

not only was he utterly charming, bred and born to have perfect manners and an eloquent way of speaking that would have anyone weak in the knees. he was also incredibly attractive, but it wasn’t like that went unnoticed.

everything around you faded away, as if there was a singular spotlight pointed at Sirius, illuminating him. in that moment, he was all that you could see. voices around you were muddled, all of your attention focused on this boy, you had long forgotten about your dinner by then.

“merlin, it’s like he was carved by the god’s himself.” you mumbled to Lily, who was seated next to you at the dinner-table. you couldn’t take your eyes off him, almost like you were deep in a trance, eyes trained on the way he carded a hand through his gorgeous dark hair. you could’ve died then and there.

Lily chuckled, nudging your shoulder, knocking you free from your trance. “stare any harder and you’ll burn a hole into his head.” you snapped out of it and felt heat rushing to your cheeks, eyes flickering down to look at your plate. “you don’t think he noticed, right?” you mumbled, biting at your bottom lip- a nervous habit you picked up. “not this time, y/n.” she answered, picking at her food, pushing it about the plate with her fork.

“why don’t you just go talk to him? just the two of you this time?” it was common for you to hang out with Sirius and the other marauders, but never alone.

“no!” your voice was a little too loud, people briefly glancing at you, “why would I do that? he wouldn’t even want to talk to me.” you were practically whisper-screaming at Lily, stumbling over your words. “he could have anyone in this school.”

“you could be that someone.” she quipped, giving you a wink. you sighed, turning to fully look at her and raising an eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing that, Evans.” shaking your head, you looked back at your plate and mirrored her- pushing your food about with your fork before setting it down. “don’t think he would look at me like that.”

“well… surprise! it seems like he’s doing just that right now, again.” Lily’s voice was sweet, but almost mocking. your eyes widened slightly, “why would you play with me like that.” you looked up, ready to roll your eyes at her but made eye-contact with Sirius instead. “fuck. he is looking at me, isn’t he?” you were frozen, face managing to get even hotter as he flashed you a smile. his eyes were soft, gaze almost… fond?

it felt like you were in heaven. you gave him a small wave, fingers trembling as you raised your hand. looking away just as quickly as you had looked at him in the first place.

“what the fuck.”

“careful, y/n, I think you need to breathe.”

“no shit.”

the next few days were uneventful; the moment that you had shared with Sirius on repeat in your brain, head feeling dizzy whenever you recalled it. that wasn’t the first time you had caught him staring at you, but you just brushed it off as him zoning out, or something along those lines.

you were sitting on Lily’s bed, running a brush through her hair- she always had you do her hair for her. “just wanted to let you know that you’re invited to tonight’s study session.” she turned to look at you, and you paused. “you’re coming, right?”

“I can’t leave you stranded with Potter.” a chuckle passes your lips, “and for that, you’re a saint.” Lily hums, turning back to face the wall so you can finish helping her with her hair. “you like him, don’t you?” you mused, teasingly. “maybe I’m growing a bit fond of him, but if you tell him that, I’ll hex you.” “my lips are sealed, Evans.”

you found yourself lounging in the chair closest to the Gryffindor fireplace shortly afterwards. the warmth kissing at your skin as you stared at the flames, tuning out the conversations happening around you, that was until you felt a hand on your shoulder. it must’ve been an hour or two that had passed. you looked up, a bit startled by the sudden pressure against your skin.

“Sirius.” you said with a smile, attempting to contain the nerves, feeling like you could possibly vomit.

“y/n.” he replied, a smile coming to his face as well- almost like he was mirroring you. “mind if I?” he began to sit on the arm of the chair, “not at all.” you replied.

“so…” you started, looking down at your lap, beginning to fidget with your fingers. “do you often stare at me like that?” Sirius cut you off, the smile on his face growing playful. “stare? like what?” your face was flushed once more, he had quite a talent for doing that to you.

“like how you were staring at me in the great hall.” his voice was like honey, sweet and thick. you felt his words choking you, pressure building in your throat and chest. “I was just zoning out, Lily was talking my ear off.”

you brushed him off, like you always do. it’s easier to run from situations like this, rather than confronting them head on. what if he was making fun of you?

“mhm, sure.”

Sirius hummed, his hand trailing down your arm, coming to rest on-top of your hands which were interlocked. you looked up at him, puzzled as to what he could possibly be doing. “that’s a shame, you know I often find myself staring at you.”

it felt like you were choking for real this time.

“you what?”

“I stare at you, y/n.” he said cooley, nonchalant. “when you look as pretty as you do, it’s hard not to.”

“cut the crap, Sirius, you’ve gotta be joking with me.” your tone was icy, eyes sharp as you stared at him, attempting to analyze his facial expression. he was completely serious- eyes soft as he stared back at you.

“you’re right about the fact that I can have anyone I want.” Sirius started, thumb brushing against the top of your hand. “but, I chose you. I’ll always choose you, no matter who comes in the way. There’s no one else.”

before you could reply, he stood up, offering a hand out to you. “can I walk you to your dorm?”

a “that would be lovely.” was all you could manage.

the walk was mostly quiet, the only thing making much noise was your footsteps against the tile flooring. Sirius’ hand gingerly brushed against yours, his eyes meeting yours once again, seemingly asking for permission without speaking. you nodded, and he smoothly slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining.

you reached your dorm, hands still clasped together. “thank you.” you stared down at his feet, feeling awfully shy all of a sudden. “about earlier-“ he begins, you look up and chuckle. Sirius’ face flushes, were you laughing at him? “I like you too, if that’s what you were gonna ask.” you managed to contain yourself despite the butterflies that were bumping around in your stomach, making you feel like you could fall over any minute, your knees threatening to give out.

he cupped your face gently, eyes flickering down to look at your lips.

“may I?” “you may.”

Sirius leaned in and kissed you, the both of your eyes gently falling shut as your lips met. you couldn’t contain the giggle blossoming in your chest when you bumped your nose against his- Sirius much more experienced compared to you.

in this very moment, to him- you were all that mattered.

he pulled away and your eyes fluttered open to reveal him staring at you through half-lidded, dark eyes. “wow.” you were breathless, speechless, lightheaded.

Sirius released your hand from his, lips pressing sweetly against your forehead- close to your hairline. "Goodnight, mon amour.” he mumbled, breath hot against your skin. you noticed the pet-name he gave you, smiling like an idiot.

“Goodnight, Siri.” you cooed, leaving him there dumbfounded as you turned on your heels to open the door, and walk into your dorm.

every part of you felt like it was on fire.

you smiled even wider to yourself, arms wrapping around your chest as you spun yourself around, giggles bubbling into the air.

“goddamnit, Sirius Black, you’re the only one who could make me feel like this.”

tags 🏷- @miss-starkov @wizardwheezes @seekinglumos

click here to join my taglist!

[inviouswriting]

Apron

This will be one of my better smuts. Showing what I am capable of~

Simeon x fem!reader.

Prompting for an apron idea. This might have multiple parts.

Themes - Smut, naked apron, established relationships, size kink, overstimulation, descriptive stuff, nipple play, temperature play, all that entails to smut. An excuse to write some Simeon smut.

There is a serene quiet of the morning, you had gotten up earlier than you normally would like to. You smile to yourself as you work to get out of the dark brown arms that had you secure in them. They even grasp for you, you supply Simeon with a pillow to bury his face into. You don’t miss the finger that runs down the middle of your bare back.

“Come back... My lamb...” Groggy is Simeon’s voice as he seeks you out snaring your waist to pull you back into his arms, the pillow not sufficient enough for the angel.

“Simeon, my angel. I want to do something for you.” He succeeds in pulling you back down to him. His head pressing into the crook of your neck with happy hums of approval. Even nuzzling his cheek into yours. You almost want to give up your plans and let him have his way.

Almost. 

“A little longer please?” A simple kiss pressed along your ear, and you feel your legs hot. You steel yourself against his charm, and start to move out of his arms again.

“Simeon, please let me up? I’ll make it up to you.” You bargain with him, if you had to guess his blue eyes would be looking at you with that pout he manages. 

“Alright my lamb... I’ll be cold without you.” You look at him over your shoulder with a wink, and he lowers his eyes to your back, sheepish, you see his face lighten up with a blush on it. You reach a hand to his head and rub through his hair earning more happy hums. 

The grip on your waist lessens, and you slip out of his arms entirely. You hand him back the pillow he had shoved aside for you instead. He takes it, resting his head back on it, enjoying your scent.

You tug on a robe and leave your angel after he closes his eyes to get some more sleep. An idea was given to you by Asmodeus, to spice things up with your Celestial lover. You had made a special request the day prior for Barbatos to take care of Luke, and Solomon. Keeping the two out of the Purgatory hall for what you had in store. 

You set about making breakfast for you and Simeon. Something simple but to give you both energy. In fruit crepes and eggs. When you had finished making some of the food, you hear the quiet shuffling of Simeon’s feet, finally roused enough to find out what you were doing and what you made. You feel shy for what you were about to do.

Carefully you remove the robe you had on, and checked the ribbon for the apron holding it together in back. A light green sheer silk apron that went down to your thighs. You fiddle with the hem to make sure it is in place, you shed the last piece of clothing you had underneath in panties while tugging up stockings that went with the apron. Your face burned in embarrassment as you kept your attention on the food to not burn it.

“Lamb? This smells nice, eh!” You hear his voice hitch. You have your back to Simeon, and you turn off the stove now that the last of the food cooked. You look over your shoulder to your angel, he is more than just blushing, he even covered his face. Sometimes you wonder if he is too innocent, fitting as an angel. You almost blush more, but keep your nerve as you turn back to collect the plates.

“I hope you like what I made, I remembered something from my home world. Strawberry crepes.” You carry on non-chalant like you weren’t parading around half naked to him. You note he is shirtless but wearing his white pants. 

“Ahh... I’ll like anything made by you.” Simeon uncovers his face, and takes a deep breath getting a better look at you. You set down the plates, purposefully leaning over to allow the sides of the apron shift down to expose a breast to his eyes. He had taken a seat, and now his hands go down to his lap.

“That outfit... where did you get it? Asmodeus?” You beam at him and nod, the avatar of lust providing you ways to keep things spicy between you and Simeon. You see Simeon looking off to the side to avoid his rising problems. A devilish idea pops into your mind as you tap your angel’s shoulder getting his attention.

“Yes my lamb?” His voice sounded pained, while you two have been intimate many times, it doesn’t take much to get his attention in that area, all you have to do is look him in his eyes and he knows. With the space he creates between the table and himself, you slip onto his lap. Deliberately choosing to seat your rear on the bulge of his pants. You hear him groan at having his straining erection sat on, specially when relief for it is separated by his clothing.

“We should eat before it gets cold.” You say cheerfully, you even bring a fork up for him to take a bite. Simeon’s hands touch at your waist to shift you down to not have you seated just so on him. You only shift grinding down against him, his mouth parts and a moan slips out. You press the fork to his lips and he takes a bite of the offering. Focusing on the sweetness over his tongue, anything other than the heat of you on him like this.

You repeat this, taking bites of your own food in between forkfuls to Simeon. When he announces he is full, you lean in and give him a reassuring kiss. You are met with equal passion, even him pressing forward to you to feel softness. You indulge him, letting Simeon deepen the kiss, tongue dancing around yours, you feel bare hands slipping underneath the side of the apron to feel your skin along your inner thigh.

You taper the kiss off with tugging his bottom lip, hidden promise, he chases after your lips only to kiss your shoulder as you get up off of him.

“I should clean these~” Simeon stares at your back as you walk away from him. The angel more than just a little turned on, he needed you now. So when you return and collect more dishes, you feel Simeon grab for you much like earlier in the bedroom. Snaring you at your waist to tug you into his arms. But you are fast as you swat his hands off.

“Lamb! Please!” Simeon’s gentle voice is a hair sharper, you lock eyes with him and see how much he is desperate for your touch. You are almost merciful, but you needed to clear the table before he could even touch you.

“Patience is a virtue.” Your voice reminding him. Simeon turns his head away to hide his further blush, his hands going down to palm himself through his pants to relieve some pressure. You finish clearing the table and wipe it clear of any syrups or crumbs. 

Simeon has been watching you move about gracefully, looking away a few times that he is surprised when you nudge him to scoot his chair back so you can fit in his lap again. You loop your arms around his neck, meeting his eyes when he turns his gaze on you. He barely registered the sound of things being set onto the table, he eyes a glass of ice, but his attention is on you fully.

“I know we just ate, but would you like a little extra?” You play it up, and Simeon eyes you weary at the idea of more food, only getting it when you roll your hips forward to his own. 

“Very much... I would love extra, Please, my love, I am aching.” You are merciful on him with how his voice is pleading to you now. You lean up to kiss him full, and are met with an equal press back, almost like he is drowning for your kisses.

 You hum into the kiss distracting him with quick and small pecks. His hands at your waist tugging the apron up so his fingers could delve along your sensitive folds. He spreads them apart with two fingers while his middle dips in, Simeon parts the kiss to eye you at how wet you are. 

“Looks like someone was enjoying this too much.” Gentle rubs of his finger around your clit that you wiggle in his lap to push his hand closer. You sheepishly give him a wink only to bury your face in his shoulder when the long finger slips inside.

“You’re very warm this morning... I want to feel more.” Simeon presses kisses along your neck, following the trail of marks he left the night prior. You turn your face to press into his neck; leaving a few soft kisses of your own against it. You both bump heads gently, earning a soft scoff in your cheek when you both wanted to kiss the other’s face.

You rock your hips with Simeon’s hand when he adds another finger inside of you. Your face visibly flushes dark from feeling so hot, that you almost forgot about the ice. You squeeze your thighs to trap Simeon’s hand there, giving small movements with his fingers curling.

“Simeon? Would you kiss me please?” You request, and he happily obliges, pressing a series to your lips. Enough to distract the angel from your hands reaching behind to the glass, you pull two ice cubes from it one you hide in the palm of your left hand, the other you bring up along side your faces.

Simeon parts from the kiss when he feels cold on his cheek, the ice cube being traced from the edge of his jaw, to between your lips together. You hold an end and give him a quiet stare. The angel catches on, and meets your lips on the other end of the ice. 

You tilt your head to kiss him easier, Simeon takes the ice into his mouth and you chase after it as he draws your tongue in to dance with his. You feel his free hand move to the back of your head to hold you in place. You grind down on his hand wanting him now, but you press your left hand to the center of his back. 

Simeon jolts a bit from the sudden cold on his back, and you both break the kiss for air. You hear the ice on the table move as Simeon grabs two, and holds one in his mouth like you did. The other one he runs his palm down your arm. You sigh out and lean forward to kiss him again.

You grind more on his hand till Simeon adds a third finger, you whine into the kiss at the stretch. You feel his thumb brush your clit as Simeon nudges your legs apart to have better movement with his hand. You moan off of the kiss when his fingers press that one spot that has your legs trembling. 

You meet his blue eyes, and Simeon looks proud of himself for the sight that is only his. Your face twisted in pleasure, and eyes now pleading him like his were you earlier. You look away only for him to tilt your head back up to his, a sweet kiss pressed to your lips. Simeon withdraws his hand that had been pleasing you and you feel empty without him.

“My lamb, patience is a virtue.” He uses your words against you, and you feel him shift against you to undo his pants down enough. Simeon helps you lay back on the table, hanging your lower half towards his own as he stands. 

Pushing the chair he had been sitting in away. Simeon kneels down much to your surprise of him almost ready to take you on the table. Instead you feel him rest your legs over his shoulders, while he uses his hands to spread your folds apart. 

“You’re very wet. Do my fingers feel that good?” You almost answer him if it weren’t for the lick around your clit. You dig your heels into the center of his back to pull him closer. Simeon didn’t need to be encouraged twice before his mouth presses full to your pussy, his tongue delving between the folds to lap from opening to clit then back down.

Your nails scratch at the table, and you bite back moans as Simeon holds your legs apart from you trying to close them on him. You noticed the glass of ice missing from the table, and yelp when something cold presses along your hole. Simeon’s hot mouth catches the ice cube and draws it along your folds using his tongue to press the cube around your clit. Your legs shake; Simeon feels your heels digging into his back more when he breathes a hot breath over the path he drew with the ice.

He does this long enough to ensure you are relaxed and thoroughly soaked for him. With one last kiss to your clit, Simeon rises back up, keeping your legs apart as he sets the glass next to your side. The ice in it almost completely melted, save for a few stray cubes and water now.

“Ready for me my love?” Simeon asks, grinding his cock along your folds slicking himself. He exhales a breath feeling the slight difference between hot and cold. 

“Of course I am.. please Simeon? Love me?” A smile crosses his face as he looks at you.

“I already love you.” You wanted to shove him for being sweet and sexy at the same time. But any words you were about to say die on your tongue when he presses inside. A sharp gasp pulled from you for pushing in swift, only to still and be seated full inside. Simeon reaches his fingers into the glass for any remaining ice and presses a melting cube to the front of your chest circling a nipple, watching the already sheer material expose more of your breast.

Simeon settles into a rhythm with you, slow pull backs, with quick thrusts in. He feels good, and you enjoy his size, thick enough to be a reason for alot of foreplay, while long and curved enough that makes you see stars every time he pushes in.

“Love me... please love me... more.” You manage, your arms going to loop around Simeon’s neck as he buries his face into your shoulder, breathy pants against your ear. You wrap your legs around his waist at his urging, and dig your heels into his hips to pull him to yourself.

A shock of cold hits your front, you snap your attention to Simeon who smirks as he had emptied the glass of cold water on you. The angel raises up as he admires your chest fully visible to his eyes. You almost scold him about not ruining the apron, but his hands grabbing your chest to squeeze your nipples makes it hard to do anything but moan out for him.

“Simeon...” You call his name, as his pace increases, he feels like he is in a further heaven than his home in the Celestial Realm. 

“My name, lamb... say it again... please.” Your hands go to the back of his head when he lowers it down to circle a nipple with his tongue then engulfs it through the fabric to suck on it. Gently tugging with his teeth, enough that you arch off the table beneath him. 

“Simeon! Please!” You were teetering on that edge, and Simeon feels it in the way you are alot hotter and squeezing him when he thrusts in. Your nails scratch at the middle of Simeon’s back when he came up to be within your arms. His own arms working underneath you to hold you to him. 

Simeon focuses on the building pressure in his own pending orgasm, while you cling to him, yours hits you hard; your nails scratching fine lines down his back that will have the angel wearing full shirts for a bit. 

Simeon feels immense heat and tight around his cock, that makes it hard to thrust in for himself. He pushes in and you hear him moan out in pleased sighs at feeling you so tight around him that he releases inside. Simeon lays on top of you, pressing kisses to your face. You sigh content and run your fingers through his hair petting his head to earn hums of approval. 

“I love you..” You hear muffled in your neck.

“I love you too, Simeon.” You return his affections, he lifts his head to meet your stare. A kiss shared between you both. You purr into it happily. Simeon tugs you with him to sit back in the chair, you groan a little as he pulls himself free of your folds.

“You want to do more right?” You ask, Simeon’s eyes widen at your question, and you see his face pink up.

“I would love that. We still have a while before Solomon and Luke are back?” You nod.

“They’ll be back in the evening.” 

“Then let’s take advantage of our time together, it’s rare that we get such alone time.” Simeon’s voice sounds happier at the idea of spending the day with you like this.

“I knew you’d be happy.” You begin to undo the apron, wanting it off your skin. You even look at the table to see the mess of water.

“We should clean up first.” You mention.

“We will, after we make more of a mess. May I ask something?”

“Yes? Simeon?” You can see his mind working for something.

“What do you say to something sweet?” 

“I could use some sugar.” You smile up at him, and his eyes seem to shine from the idea of something more.

~~~~End Part 1~~~~~

I’ll continue this! I just want to separate sections~

[rayslittlekitten]

Truth

"You Got This” Masterlist

A/N: For this week's FanFic Friday for @rebelwrites, here's a cute little cheesy scene from the You Got This universe. I kinda miss them. If you haven't read anything from this universe, quick background info: reader is Opie's sister and Jax is 15/16 years old and and reader is 14 and they're kinda like lowkey BFFs.

Rating: T

Word Count: 643

Pairing: Teenager!Jax Teller x Teenager F!reader/OFC

Plot: During a game of truth and dare, you and Jax find out your feelings for each other.

Contains: underage drinking, fluff

Photo prompt:

“Never have I ever... eaten a pickle," you say.

"Really? Never?" Jax asks.

"Nope. They look slimy and gross."

Jax takes a swig of the 40 ounce malt liquor bottle he stole from a convenience store you both are sharing while hanging out at the pier watching the sun set. You're usually the third wheel to him and Opie but Opie's got a girlfriend now and he's been spending less time with you and Jax.

"Never have I ever... bled from between my legs." Jax chuckles.

"That's not fair!"  You playfully punch his arm.

"Ow! Okay, fine. Never have I ever... kissed a boy." Jax hands the bottle over to you. You glance at it and then back at him.

"I never have either."

"Really?!" Jax asks with wide eyes. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

You shake your head.

"Wow. Princess of SAMCRO hasn't had her first kiss yet?"

"Shut up, Jackson!" You shove him, but he barely budges. "This is getting boring. Let's play truth or dare," you tell him, trying to change the subject.

"Fine, you go first since it's your turn next," Jax laughs.

"Truth or dare?"

"Mm... " Jax has one eye closed and he's looking up to the sky thinking about his decision. "Truth," he chooses before taking a swig of the cheap alcohol.

"Who do you like more? Me or Ope?"

"Really? That's what you want to know?" Jax asks.

"The game's not over. I have plenty of opportunity to ask other questions."

"Well, you're definitely easier on the eyes," Jax laughs. "But you're definitely my favorite Winston. Don't tell Ope." Jax winks.

You smile at his answer.

"Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Truth." You answer immediately.

"Who do you have a crush on?"

You look at him, not sure how you want to answer. "I change my mind. Dare!"

"Nah uh, you can't do that. Those aren't the rules. You gotta answer the question."

The butterflies in your belly are so active, you feel like you're going to hurl.

"Come on, you can trust me with it." Jax nudges you. You grab the bottle from Jax and take a huge swig.

"Who is it that you can't just tell me? Is it me?" Jax jokes. The deer in headlights look on your face answered his rhetorical question. "Seriously? You have a crush on me?"

"Your turn! Truth or dare?" You spit out quickly and down more of the malt liquor hoping to get drunk quicker to forget the last 30 seconds even happened.

"No, wait, you didn't actually answer my question." Jax backtracks and then grabs the bottle from you.

"Okay, fine, yes I have a crush on you, okay?" You confess. dreading his reaction.

"Dare."

"What?" You look over at him and he's smirking.

"I choose dare," Jax repeats. "Dare me to kiss you."

You just stare at him like he has five heads.

"What are you doing?" you ask, confused.

"I chose dare, not truth."

"Jackson, I can't dare you to--"

Jax cuts you off with his mouth, his soft lips over yours. So many thoughts are going through your mind and new feelings are coursing through your body. Jax pulls away but you want more. You look at him, speechless.

"I like you too, Y/N." Jax tucks your hair behind your ear and cups your face.

It takes you a moment for his words to sink in. Jackson Teller, the cutest boy in all of Charming High likes you? That sounds insane.

“Why do you look so surprised?” Jax asks.

“Because you’re Jackson Prince fucking Charming Teller.”

“And you’re Y/N Princess fucking Charming Winston.” Jax leans in and kisses you again. He drops the bottle that he was holding in his other hand, not caring that it spilled and grabs the other side of your face, not wanting to let you go.

[writing-imagines]

Hi! May I request from fluff trope/scenario prompt number 19 with Wanda. Thank you!

Hi! Sorry it took so long! Hope you enjoy it!

Fluff trope/scenario- 19. Secret dating

Little note: this is set up in the 70s episode of WandaVision. To make this easier to write and less angsty, Vision has ‘disappeared’, but Wanda and reader keep things secret.

Warnings (?): Agnes being Agnes, slight alluding to mind control (if you squint hard enough)

Prompt from this list

You stood at the kitchen counter, watching impatiently as Agnes explained to Wanda what renovations she wanted Ralph to complete around the house. Wanda’s dinner party had ended about two hours ago and Agnes couldn’t take the hint to leave. Just as you began thinking of a plan that would get Agnes out of your hair, the phone rang.

“Y/n, can you get that for me?” Wanda called out from the living room.

“I sure can.” You responded in a fake happy tone. It only took a few steps for you to reach the phone mounted to the kitchen wall, you tried to prepare yourself to sound a little more cheery.

“Maximoff residence.”

“Hello, this is Ralph, Agnes’ husband. Is she still there?”

“Hi, Ralph. Yes, Agnes is still here. Would you like to talk with her?”

“Oh no, I just wanted to make sure she was still there.”

Before you could get another word in, Ralph hung up the phone. You shrugged before placing the phone back and walking into the living room.

“Agnes, your husband called. I think he’s worried about you.”

“Really? He must be hungry, otherwise he wouldn’t notice I was gone.” Agnes let out her unforgettable laugh before getting up from her position on the couch.

“Well, I better get going. Thank you again for the dinner party, Wanda. It was amazing!” Agnes threw her arms around Wanda for a hug. Wanda, being the darling she was, hugged Agnes back.

“Thank you, Agnes. Have a safe walk home.”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Agnes gave Wanda a wink before finally leaving the house.

Once you watched her reach the sidewalk, you practically ran to the front door to lock it.

“I thought she’d never leave.” You let out a sigh of relief and rested against the door.

“I know. Usually she doesn’t stay too long after the party starts.” Wanda strutted towards you and wrapped her arms around your neck.

“But at least we’re alone now.” Before you could say how happy you were to finally be alone with your love, she pulled you into a kiss. You couldn’t help but fall into your girlfriend. After a few blissful moments, Wanda pulled away from you slightly.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

“You want me to stay the night? But what will the neighbors say?” You asked in a exaggerated tone with widened eyes. Wanda rolled her eyes before allowing a smirk to tug at her lips.

“Don’t worry about the neighbors. I’ll take care of them.”

“Are you sure?” You sincerely asked. Ever since Vision disappeared, Wanda became the target of neighborhood gossip. The last thing you wanted was for more gossip to be brought up.

“Positive, dear. Come on, let’s get to bed.” Wanda gave you a quick kiss on your cheek before taking your hand and leading you upstairs.

The next morning, you woke up bright and early to avoid being seen by anyone. Wanda tried to convince you to stay a little longer by nearly smothering you with kisses, but you knew it would be better for both of you if you left early. So, you carefully snuck out of the house and out into the barely light street. You were just feet away from reaching the fence that surrounded your home when you heard her unmistakable voice.

“Well, good morning, neighbor! Wild night at Wanda’s?” Agnes questioned rather loudly while marching up to you.

“Uh...yeah. I had a little too much to drink last night and Wanda suggested that I sleep in her guest room.”

“Isn’t Wanda just the kindest woman? Some of the ladies around here could take a few notes from her.” Agnes playfully nudged your shoulder while you anxiously chuckled.

“Yes, they sure could. I hate to run, but I have a lot of work to get done before the sun comes up.” You attempted to take another step towards your home, but Agnes kept talking.

“Really? What’s so important that you have to get it done before the sun comes up?” She cocked her head to the side like a curious child.

“Um...well...stuff...for...work.” You nervously rubbed the back of your neck, silently praying Agnes would leave you alone.

“Stuff for work? On a Sunday morning?”

“Yep...”

“Hm, well good luck with it! I’m gonna see if I can get Ralph to finally fix the lawn mower. Bye now!”

“Goodbye, Agnes.” You waved goodbye before finally opening the gate. But, just as you closed the gate, Agnes approached you again.

“Oh and don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” She gave you that trademark over exaggerated wink, leaving you dumbfounded.

[chudleycanonficfest]

A Million Possibilities

Day 3, Story #1 is by @honouraryweasley12

Title: A Million Possibilities Author/Artist: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Arthur/Molly Prompt: First Date Rating: PG Trigger Warning(s) (if any): None

"So, is today the big day?" Rodney sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, clapping his friend on the back before grabbing a slice of bread.

Arthur Weasley stared down at his porridge, a sickly look on his thin face. He glanced slyly down the table at her, before returning to his breakfast with a sigh. "I suppose so."

"That's the spirit. The first Hogsmeade trip is at the end of the week. You don't want to miss the opportunity again, do you?"

"No, I don't." He'd badly wanted to ask her last year, but couldn't summon up the courage, fearful of the rejection. Over the summer, he'd resolved he would do it this year, but it was far easier to make those promises to himself when she wasn't so close, like she was now.

Rodney grinned. "Everyone knows you fancy her anyway, so you might as well get it over with and stop moping."

Arthur looked up at his classmate and frowned. "Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"What's the worst that could happen, eh? If she says no, you move on." He puffed out his chest. "We're Fifth Years now, we're practically adults. You've got to have some confidence."

Arthur shook his head and gulped. "I think it would be far worse if she said yes."

Just then, a boisterous laugh rang out from the end of the table, causing Arthur's head to shoot up and take her in.

"You've got it bad," Rodney remarked. "When do you think you'll do it?"

"After classes today. I hope I can catch her alone. That way when she rejects me, at least it won't be in front of her friends." The thought of it caused him to push the bowl away. "I'm suddenly not hungry."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so." He suddenly stood up, needing a breath of air. "I'll see you in Potions."

Had he looked back, he would have spotted two pairs of eyes watching him with great interest.

~*~

"I can't believe how many assignments we've got. When are we supposed to study for OWLs with all of this extra work?"

"Mmm," was Arthur's reply, his mind clearly elsewhere.

"Did you even hear a word in any of our classes this morning?" Rodney asked, a smirk on his face. "Or were all your thoughts on one Miss Prewett?"

"Shut it," Arthur replied through tightly pressed lips. "Someone might hear."

"Too late for that."

The two boys spun around, only to find the identical grinning visages of Fabian and Gideon Prewett. Arthur gulped; the two Seventh Years were known for their magical prowess.

Fabian motioned to Rodney. "You go for lunch; we want to have a quick chat with Mr. Weasley here."

Rodney wished him good luck, and hurried off.

Gideon threw an arm around the younger boy's shoulders, even though they were about the same height. "We understand that you fancy our little sister."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play dumb with us, we know you want to ask her to Hogsmeade. You really shouldn't talk about such sensitive things in the Great Hall—you never know who might be listening."

Arthur knew his charade was pointless, his shoulders slumping. "I was planning on asking her. But you don't have to worry, I don't think she'll say yes."

"That may be, but we were coming to warn you about her."

Arthur pulled out of Gideon's grasp, affronted. "What?"

"Don't misunderstand us, we love our sister and would do anything for her, but she has a very… strong personality. We came to warn you not to get bullied by her. She can be rather overpowering, downright scary even."

"But you're two of the most powerful wizards in the school."

Fabian smiled. "Yeah, but we can't exactly duel our little sister every time we get into a sibling argument. There's actually very little we can do when she's made her mind up about something."

"That's one of the things I like about her, that she is very strong-minded, not to mention caring, and beautiful." Arthur was smiling but was broken out his thoughts by the gagging sounds the twins were making.

"Look," Gideon said. "You seem like a nice enough bloke, so we'll leave you to it. I will say this though—if we do hear anything about you being less than respectful to our sister, then you will have to deal with us. Do you understand?"

Arthur nodded quickly.

"Oh, and don't tell her we said anything. It wouldn't be good for any of us. Now, hurry along."

They watched as the lanky redhead turned the corner.

"Poor bloke," Fabian remarked. "He has no idea what he's getting himself into, does he?"

"He certainly doesn't."

~*~

"What was that about?" Rodney asked as Arthur flopped down and let out a groan.

"If the asking wasn't bad enough, now I have to worry about those two."

"Well, you can't be surprised, they are her older brothers. I hope it's worth it."

Arthur happened to look up, and that moment, caught Molly's eye. She flashed him a quick smile, but all he could do was grimace awkwardly before looking away. He missed seeing the flash of disappointment on her face.

"She's definitely worth it. From all the time we've spent together in class, or studying, or even just chatting in the Common Room, I really like her company. I just don't know if I can ask her out without losing my lunch."

~*~

Arthur exited their last class of the day with great reluctance, knowing that his time was up. As he walked to the Great Hall for dinner, he spotted the object of his affections walking in front of him with a group of her friends.

He felt a nudge against his shoulder from Rodney. "Now's your chance."

"Here goes nothing." Arthur took a deep breath. "Molly?"

She stopped and turned, giving him a smile before signalling to her friends to go on without her. Rodney sped past them as well, nodding at Molly before disappearing down a nearby stairway.

She patted her hair before addressing him. "Yes, Arthur?"

He surreptitiously wiped his hands on the back of his robes, before running a hand through his ginger hair. "H-how are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. How are you?"

"I-I'm fine."

There was a long pause, but Molly's encouraging expression was enough to spur him on. "As you know, there is a Hogsmeade trip coming up. Sometimes, that is, some people like to go to Hogsmeade with other people, not their friends."

He knew he was babbling now but couldn't stop himself from getting flustered. "I thought maybe that could be something you might be interested in."

She let out a small laugh, her cheeks rosy as she placed her hands on her hips. "Arthur Weasley, are you asking me on a date?"

"Yes, I am. Molly, will you go to Hogsmeade with me?"

"I would be delighted to. In fact, I've been hoping you would ask for some time."

Arthur was incredulous, his eyebrows flying up. "You have?"

"Yes, I have." She reached out and squeezed his forearm, letting her hand linger. "I thought I had been rather obvious in my attempts to flirt."

"Oh," Arthur blushed. "I assumed you were just being friendly. I did almost ask you last year, but I didn't think you'd say yes. Blimey, I didn't think you'd say yes now!"

"You had nothing to be worried about. You've always been sweet to me, and I've noticed."

He grinned at her, relieved to hear her say so. "So shall I meet you in the Common Room on Saturday morning?"

Her joyous expression mirrored his. "That sounds lovely."

He let out a breath. "Great! I'll see you then." He didn't know what possessed him to do so, but he stooped down and kissed her gently on the cheek, before walking away and smacking himself on the forehead.

The red in Molly's cheeks deepened, and she lifted a hand to her face, letting out a sigh of her own. Saturday couldn't come quickly enough.

~*~

He watched in awe as she descended the stairs into the Common Room, her flaming red hair pulled elegantly over her shoulder. A thin coat and a nice jumper were perfect for the fall weather, and she wore a long, loose skirt to complete the outfit.

"You look wonderful," Arthur complimented her as she reached him.

She beamed. "You don't look so bad yourself," she replied, sliding her arm through his. "Shall we?"

He nodded, dumbstruck that he was going out on an actual date with Molly Prewett. From the corner of his eye, he saw Fabian and Gideon watching the two of them, and he quickly looked away.

He was nervous but found making idle chit chat with her as they walked into the village to be rather easy. As the minutes ticked away, he felt himself getting more and more comfortable. It certainly didn't hurt that every few minutes she gave him a cute smile or laughed at one of his jokes. He felt drawn to her.

"Would you mind if we stopped at Scrivenshaft's?" Molly asked, breaking him out of his reverie.

"No, of course not. Running low on quills already?"

"No, nothing like that. I wanted to get some yarn. I took up knitting over the summer and want to continue practicing. I made this jumper, in fact."

"You did? That's incredible! I was admiring it earlier."

"You were admiring it, were you?" She winked at him, causing him to flush. "I'll just be a moment."

Arthur wrung his hands as paced outside of the shop, taking some deep breaths. Everything was going pretty well in his estimation, and he still couldn't believe that she seemed to like him as much as he liked her.

"Miss me?"

He nodded, reaching out a hand to take the bag from her. She grabbed his other hand and their fingers locked. He looked down, and then looked at her.

"Is this alright?" She asked.

He nodded again, and smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze which she returned. It seemed like a big step, to be holding hands so that everyone could see, and yet it felt right.

Molly's cheeks were glowing, and her eyes were sparkling. "Where to next?"

"I thought we might sit down somewhere. How about Madam Puddifoot's? It'll be quiet there. If that's fine with you, of course?"

"That sounds perfectly fine to me, Arthur."

The two walked through the village, enveloped in a bubble of giddiness. Arthur kept looking down at their joined hands. He already knew he was smitten with the red-headed witch.

The décor of the establishment was far simpler in the fall than at other times of the year, like Christmas and Valentine's Day. They were quickly ushered to a booth in the back and took their seats, facing each other. Once they settled in, Arthur took her hand in his again, resting them on the tabletop.

"This is nice, isn't it? Just the two of us?"

"No meddling family is a nice change, though it wouldn't surprise me if my brothers were in the next booth, listening in."

Arthur peeked at the next booth over and saw a couple snogging. "Don't worry, we seem to be safe here."

"You know about my brothers. Tell me about your family, what are they like?"

Arthur launched into a few tales about his family, which seemed to enthrall her before they were interrupted for their order.

"We don't have much, but we get on quite well."

"That's nice to hear. Some of my more distant relations on the Black side are quite… eccentric in their views of certain things."

"Oh, me too. I have some relations in the Black family, but we're not involved with them. I've heard their ideas on Muggles are rather disturbing."

"You're quite interested in Muggles, aren't you?"

"Oh yes," Arthur replied. "I find them absolutely fascinating, the way they come up with creative ideas and make things to make their lives easier without magic. They seem to come up with a million possibilities to solve a problem. Did you know American and Russian Muggles are trying to fly to the moon? Imagine that! I don't think wizards and witches would ever contemplate such a thing."

"It's rather cute to see you get so excited about it. Most wizards wouldn't."

"I know most people in our world would find it silly, but it is really interesting to me. I wouldn't mind working in Muggle Relations one day. I'm aiming for an Outstanding in my Muggle Studies OWL."

"Oh, don't remind me. I'm not looking forward to sitting those. It's going to be a difficult year, isn't it?"

He squeezed her hand. "Well, the year has started out brilliantly."

She waved him away but couldn't hide her pleasure. "I never took you for such a romantic."

"It's the truth. I've been hoping for this for awhile now. I've known you for four years, and I've fancied you for at least half that time."

She looked at him curiously. "There's something I've been meaning to ask you about that. I know I'm not the prettiest girl in our year, and I know I have a reputation of being somewhat bossy and strong-willed. Those don't seem like typical qualities one would be looking for."

Arthur grabbed her other hand in his.

"I happen to like the fact that you speak your mind and have your opinions. I've also seen you helping the younger students, and you're so generous and caring. I think those are especially important qualities in a person. I don't know what it is, but I feel so comfortable around you, like I can be myself."

"That's very nice to hear."

He leaned forward. "I also happen to think that you're quite fetching."

"You're a charmer, if I've ever met one."

"I'm serious. You are the prettiest girl in our year. At least to me you are."

She scoffed and shook her head. "I'll take your word for it."

At that moment, their server arrived with their tea and snacks, forcing them to let go of their hands and end their conversation. After a few bites, Molly continued.

"What did you get up to in the summer?"

"Well, we can't really afford to go on any fancy trips, but my family has a plot of land out in the country, near Devon. It's nothing special, but it's ours. We spent a lot of time there, cleaning things up. There's a small house on the property, so we fixed that up as well. I think my parents mean for me to have it when I'm older."

"Oh, isn't that nice! It sounds like a wonderful place. It must be beautiful out there."

"It's very peaceful. It seems like a nice place to raise a family. Not that I'm insinuating—" He dropped his fork with a clatter at that moment, causing her to giggle.

"You are a surprising one, Arthur. In a good way, though. I don't know of many sixteen-year-old boys who are thinking about such things."

"Oh, well, I guess I am a little bit odd then. I think it would be nice to have a big family one day, lots of little red-headed children running around."

"Who said they would have red hair?"

"Well, we both—" His eyes popped open, and he choked slightly on the scone he was eating, before gulping down his tea.

"Do you usually plan your entire future on your first dates? Is there a proposal coming?"

He shook his head, mortified. She let out a laugh and grabbed his hand again, entwining their fingers. "I'm only teasing."

After he recovered his wits, he couldn't help but respond. "I guess your brothers aren't the only troublemakers in the family."

"Certainly not," she replied, eyeing him mischievously while taking another sip of her tea.

They bantered on, talking about school, gossiping about their friends, and complaining about their teachers. The conversation flowed naturally until Arthur noticed other couples drifting out of the teashop.

"I think it's getting late; I suppose we should head back to the castle."

"Yes, we wouldn't want to get detention. Though I wouldn't mind it if I got to spend it with you."

As Molly finished up her tea, Arthur signalled to the server that they were done. After proudly paying their bill, he clasped Molly's hand again and led her out of the shop.

He peered around for a moment before setting off through the village, swiveling his head every few seconds.

"Arthur, is everything alright? We still have plenty of time."

"Y-Yes, of course."

"Then why do keep looking over your shoulder?"

"Oh… I don't want to say."

"I'd really rather you did."

Arthur stopped and sighed. "Your brothers threatened me if I did anything disrespectful toward you."

She frowned. "Those brothers of mine are going to get a piece of my mind. I'll have you know that I've had a lovely time, and you've been a complete gentleman."

"That's the problem, you see." He smiled down at her. "I would really like to kiss you right now… and not on the cheek this time."

"Don't concern yourself about Fabian and Gideon, I'll take care of them—and I'll decide what is disrespectful. Now, are you going to kiss me or not?"

He pulled her to a secluded area, away from the prying eyes of the other students. Cupping her face with his hands gently, he pressed his lips to hers. She responded and deepened their kiss, her arms wrapping around his narrow waist. It was bliss.

After they broke apart, they shared a smile and resumed walking back to the castle, hand-in-hand.

"Molly," he stated suddenly. "Will you go steady with me?"

"Go where?"

"Oh, it's a Muggle term. Would you like to be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, I would like that very much, my boyfriend."

His laughed bubbled up, unable to hide his happiness at the prospect. He was walking on a cloud as they made their way through the castle and up to the Common Room.

He realized his mistake too late, forgetting to drop her hand as they entered through the portrait hole. The were immediately set upon by Molly's twin brothers.

"What do we have here?"

"Well, you see—" Arthur began, only to be cut off by Molly.

"Arthur is my boyfriend now, no thanks to you two. Any attempts to threaten him in the future will be met with… a response. Do I make myself clear?"

Arthur was amazed at her gall and was even more amazed that they cowered at her words. If he wasn't already completely taken by her, that would have done it.

The two looked thoroughly chastened and agreed.

"Right then." Molly reached up and deliberately kissed him on the cheek in front of her siblings. "Thank you, Arthur, dear. I had a wonderful time. Shall we go study in the library? I'll go get my books."

He nodded, giving her hand a quick squeeze before they separated.

"Arthur, dear?" Gideon said after she left, his face screwing up in disgust. "I hope you're looking forward to a lifetime of that, Weasley."

That didn't sound so bad to him. He suddenly felt like the Muggles he was talking about earlier; it was like he had a million possibilities—now that he had Molly in his life.

[whatisthiswritingthing]

The Photographer - Tobin Heath x Reader

Prompt: Hey, I love your writing. I was wondering if you could do Tobin X reader where the reader is a photographer who's helping out taking pictures for re-inc?

Note: This was option B yesterday! 

“That’s the third time you have tripped over that case,” Christen laughed as Tobin stumbled again.

“Then we should probably move it, shouldn’t we,” Tobin grumbled, shy, embarrassed.

“I think it has more to do with who owns the case and not the case itself,” Christen shot her knowing smirk.

They had hired a new photographer to help them with the Re-Inc photoshoot. It was one of their biggest product launches yet, so they decided to bring in a new photographer, give the new launch a new look too.

The new photographer was incredible. They were on day two of the shoot and the pictures they had were phenomenal, it was going to be difficult to narrow down which ones to use. She put all the models at ease, earning genuine smiles, describing what she wanted casual and well. She confidently ran the shoot, politely directing everyone around, eagerly taking critic from Christen and Tobin about what they wanted for the products.

“No, it’s the case, we should move it,” Tobin blushed, looking away from Christen.

Christen grabbed her elbow before she walked away, Tobin let herself be pulled back but refused to make eye contact. “Tobs, just talk to her.” She said softly

“Hey guys,” Y/N approached with a smile, leaning into the case at their feet, starting to switch out lenses. “Shit, is this in the way? Here, let me move it.”

“No, no, no, It’s fine, definitely not in the way. You can leave it wherever you want. All good,” Tobin rambled quickly. Christen turned, smirking at Tobin.

“You sure Tobs? Someone might trip.”

“Oh no, Y/N obviously needs it right here. It’s perfect right here,” Tobin rambled again, “you don’t need to move it, you’re perfect,” Tobin directed to the photographer. “umm I mean your equipment. Perfect where it is, I mean.”

Tobin spun on her heel and walked away without saying anything else.

Y/N slowly stood up, watching the soccer player walk away smirking at the interaction.

“So, I’m good?”

“Perfect apparently,” Christen laughed, shaking her head at her best friends’ actions. “Tobin does some photography in her free time.” If Tobin wouldn’t do anything about her obvious crush, Christen would have to step in.

“Yeah? This your way of telling me I just got fired?”

“What? No, not at all! You are doing a great job!”

“I’m kidding Christen,” Y/N reached over and placed a hand on Christens forearm. “Tobin is welcome to mess around with some of my stuff if she wants.”

Y/N began to walk away, camera in one hand, additional lens in the other.

“She would love that!”

Y/N motioned for one the models to come over, so she could begin to shoot again. Christen turned to go find Tobin.

“Tell me how much you love,” Christen shook Tobins shoulders when she found her.

“What did you do?” Tobin challenged.

“Told Y/N that you do photography.”

“You did what?” Tobin looked at her with wide eyes.

“And she seemed pretty impressed, said you can use some of her equipment,” Christen continued as if Tobin hadn’t spoken. “you should totally do it, go ask her about what she uses or what other projects she has done. Her coffee order. Something Tobin!”

“Christen I can’t believe you!”

“I’m helping Tobin, you like her, talk to her. She is approachable, she’s done great work with our launch, she offered to help you,” Christen rubbed her hands up and down Tobin‘s biceps. “Y/N!” she called over her shoulder, causing everyone to stop what they were doing and look in their direction.

“Yo!” Y/N turned around, grinning.

“Tobin is getting coffee, she wants to know what you want,” Christen pushed the midfielder towards the photographer.

“I hate you,” Tobin mumbled under her breath as she walked towards the photographer.

Y/N could see how uncomfortable Tobin was as she approached.

“You don’t have to get me anything Tobin,” she offered sympathetically.

“No, I’m just heading out now.”

Y/N gave her her order, “why don’t you give me a hand when you come back? I’d love some of your insight.”

Tobin took a deep breath as she approached the photographer after returning from her coffee run.

“Ahh thanks Tobin, let’s take a quick break,” Y/N took the offered coffee, setting her camera down on one of her cases.

Talk to her Christen mouthed over Y/N’s shoulder.

“So, uhh, which camera do you like?” Tobin rolled her eyes at herself.

“I’m mostly using the Nikon D850 for this shoot. It’s perfect for a fashion shoot like this; it’s small, has a quick auto-focus. So, I’m able to get a bunch of rapid shots and poses easy. Fashion shoots can get a little chaotic, lots of people, lots of movement, this is pretty durable,” she lit up at the opportunity to talk about her camera. “Plus, it’s pretty good when I do action shots for sports too, but I usually switch between Nikon D500 for those.”

Tobin nodded along.

“Christen said you do a little photography?”

“Oh yea, but nothing like what you do. Your stuff is incredible!”

“Nah, it’s all you guys. You have great products and people to shoot,” Y/N motions around the room. “You know exactly what you want, so that makes it so much easier. I’m just shooting what you guys envision.”

Tobin blushed at the sincere compliment.

“You’ve done such a good job with our stuff, really brought out our vision and made an effort to listen to what we wanted.”

Now Y/N blushed, then began to pick up her camera, motioning another model over to resume shooting.

Tobin awkwardly shifted on the case she was sitting on. Christen came from behind, placing her hands under Tobins arms and lifting her up.

“Ask to help,” Christen whispered in her ear.

“Want to help, Tobin?” Y/N called over her shoulder before Tobin could even think of it. Christen pushed her forward.

Y/N stretched out her arm holding the camera, offering it to Tobin.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course! It’s your shoot, it needs to have your guys’ touch on it too,” Y/N nodded with a smile.

Tobin stepped forward and took the camera, stiffly taking a few photos. Y/N slid up next to her, placing a hand over Tobin’s.

“Relax your grip, you’re too tense, the camera won’t focus as clear.”

Tobin nodded to herself, taking a steadying breath, focussing on loosening her grip. Y/N applied a small amount of pressure to Tobin’s hand, guiding it to a new position. She leaned back to glance at the screen while Tobin kept snapping pictures.

“Those look really good Tobin!” Y/N encouraged, “step to your left a bit, and drop down. It will give you a better angle up and shift the lighting.”

Tobin shifted a little bit, still taking pictures. Y/N nodded along, tilting her head focusing on the screen and the photos as they came up, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Tobin risked looking at the photographer, her jaw dropped, camera dipping down as she looked at the photographer.

Y/N’s face relaxed, looking away from the screen to Tobin as the photos stopped showing up. Christen rolled her eyes as she saw it occur.  Tobin quickly brought the camera up and rapidly took pictures.

“Want me to take back over?”

“Uhh yea, probably for the best,” Tobin handed the camera back.

Y/N stepped back over, taking the camera back, shifting around the space taking more pictures.

“Smooth Tobs, real smooth,” Christen whispered into Tobin’s ear, nudging her shoulder.

“Was it that bad?” Tobin cringed.

“Nah, it could have been worse. I do suggest you ask her out, I’m guessing most photographers don’t let just anyone touch their cameras.”

“True,” Tobin nodded along, “so you think she would say yes?”

“I would be amazed if she said no Tobs,” Christen squeezed Tobin’s arm reassuringly.

The two stood and watched while Y/N continued to work, seamlessly adjusting people, patiently directing them where they needed to be. Tobin couldn’t take her eyes off the photographer; the subtle flex in her forearm while she gripped the camera, her tongue sticking out as she concentrated, the one piece of hair that wouldn’t stay behind her ear. Tobin took it all in, wanting to learn what other quirks she had.

“I think that’s good for today,” Y/N smiled, beginning to pack up her camera and the additional lenses she had been using. “Thanks everyone, great work!”

Tobin confidently took steps toward Y/N as she snapped one of her cases shut.

“Hey, I’m thinking of going for a drink now, maybe go for supper. Want to join?”  

The soccer player tripped over her own feet. She had planned on asking out Y/N, she had not been expecting Y/N to ask her out first.

Y/N misinterpreted Tobin’s stumble as being uncomfortable and began to back track.

“But you’re probably busy. Or I total misread this,” the photographer trailed off, focusing intently on packing her things.

“Shit, no,” Tobin took two large steps to finish closing the distance. “Supper sounds perfect. I was actually on my way over to ask you the same thing.” She awkwardly chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh,” Y/N’s head shot up, “umm great, that’s great.”

This was the first time Tobin had seen Y/N unconfident in her actions.

“Great,” Tobin winked, earning an unexpected blush, “why don’t I help you pack up and we can leave from here?”

Y/N grinned and nodded in return.