#i’m giggling & kicking my feet ! this is like reading a love letter <3

[garoujo]

you and deanna leggett are my greatest crushes of all time i wanna be in a sandwich between u 2!!!!!

i’ll literally faint about the fact u even put me in a sandwich w her cause she’s so hawt ໒꒰ྀི𖦹̀ ˬ 𖦹꒱ྀི১ i will gladly join ueueue <333

[bussyslayer333]

There’s a honey

summary: 3 times your aunt penny sees herself and maverick in your relationship with jake and 1 time she doesn’t.

pairing: jake seresin x penny’s niece!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: smut, allusions to smut, swearing, cheese tbh, pet names, m*verick, jake being jake >:) MDNI 18+

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

1.

“Are you sure we should be doing this?” you whisper into Jake’s ear as he drags you along a corridor towards the hangar that contains his and the dagger squad’s F-18s.

“Definitely not, but I need you to see this.” Jake chuckles from in front of you.

That does nothing to settle the nerves in your stomach as he turns abruptly, hand still nestled in yours pulling you around the corner with him.

The ‘room’ Jake has pulled you into isn’t really a room at all. It’s a large Hangar with tall ceilings that make you fear that if you speak it will echo throughout the whole building. Jake looks down at you and smiles at your awestruck face.

“Welcome to my world sweets.”

You roll your eyes at his cheesy line and walk towards the jet that has Jake’s name plastered onto the side of it.

“Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin,” you read to yourself, tracing your fingers over the black lettering.

“My two girls in one room,” Jake chuckles into your ear, wrapping his arm around your waist. He strokes lightly against the material of your sundress. It’s his favourite one, it’s cream coloured and is covered in a ditsy floral pattern. He smiles as you look up at him,

“But who do you love more?” You giggle and wait for his response.

Jake clutches his chest dramatically and whines, “You’re not being fair! I can love two things equally.”

You pout playfully and jest, “Well you won’t mind sleeping in here with her then, will you?”

Jake laughs loudly and points out your bluff, “You’d never kick me out of bed, your feet would get too cold.”

You make a ‘hmph’ noise and turn on your feet to the exit of the hangar. Jake is quick on your tail and hauls you into the air forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you look up at him now face to face.

“Don’t be like that baby, you know you’re my favourite.” He simpers.

You giggle, “I know, I just like making you sweat.”

Jake squeezes your cheeks into a kissy face and pecks you on the lips, “You’re such a minx.”

Carrying you back towards his jet, he plants you down on the ground and finally reveals his plan to you.

“Jake what if i’m sick all over your plane then you hate me forever!”

“I’ll go slow for you sweetheart, I always do,” Jake winks at you.

You scoff, as he helps you into the back seat of his jet and plant yourself down in the seat. Before Jake gets the chance to sit down, you look around the interior of the jet and something catches your eye. In the cockpit there’s a few small Polaroids. Jake had always loved taking photos, he had a small Polaroid camera which he carried almost everywhere with him, and a stack of photos building up just of you. As you look to the photos you see one of them is of him and his two nieces sat in the grass on a sunny day, another of his family dog from back home and the last picture is one of you that you didn’t recognise. You’re curled into his chest with his hoodie on and you’re asleep with a pout on your face. You want to complain about the less than flattering angle but your heart flutters from the intimacy of the picture and you can’t feel it in you to be angry at all. Instead you hum slightly and reach forward to kiss Jake’s shoulder as he finally sits in the seat in front of you. He seems slightly bashful as he realises you’ve seen the pictures.

“For luck.”

You grin and decide not to prod him further. Taking off, your stomach swoops and you worry about the interior of Jake’s jet being covered in your dinner for a brief moment before your breath is taken away.

The sun is setting and Jake is flying the jet in the direction of the beach. You suddenly understand his insistence on bringing you up here. Jake thinks he’s cheesy so he doesn’t say it aloud, but whenever flight tests run late and the sun sets whilst he’s still in the sky he always thinks of you. It’s beautiful and the colours bleed together as the sun dips lower and lower and all he can think about is how much he wants to share this with you. So he did.

“Thank you for bringing me up here.” You speak into the microphone of the flight helmet you’re wearing.

“It’s my pleasure sweetheart.”

You look down and notice you’ve flown past the Hard Deck, it was a hard sight to miss and golden lights twinkle around it in the dusk. It’s mostly empty as Penny has closed it for the night, but you think you spotted the tiny blur of Maverick’s motorcycle in the parking lot.

Maverick and Penny are sat together on the benches that stand outside the Hard Deck on the beach front. Unbeknownst to you, Maverick had helped Jake plan to sneak you into base for your sunset joyride. He understood how important it was for Jake to show you the thing he loved so dearly. It was the same for him way back when with your aunt. Penny gasps as she looks up to see the jet soar by,

“Please tell me my niece isn’t up there.” She states rather than questions.

“Okay, I won’t then.” Maverick smiles into her shoulder.

She smacks him lightly but it lacks anger, Penny would never admit this but she was glad you had fallen for Jake rather than any of the others. She can’t help but smile back as she thinks about her first time up in a fighter jet with the pilot sat next to her. She wants to be worried but she knows you’re in perfectly safe hands, Jake’s charm and incredible skill always did remind her of someone who she knew so well.

2.

You and Jake had been together for two months now but he had yet to sleep round at yours. You were apprehensive, living with your aunt and younger cousin meant a lack of privacy mostly, and said privacy was not an issue when staying at Jake’s small rented beach cottage. So it had always seemed the obvious to go to his. Neither of you had ever had an issue with this, which is why Jake was so surprised to receive a text from you half way through his day off.

baby ♥️

come to mine tonight?

pen and amelia are out btw

You and Jake had planned for you to stay at his tonight, you’d promised to cook for him and he’d been hoping to thank you in many different ways and positions. But he couldn’t help but feel slightly giddy at the prospect of being able to stay round yours. He felt a bit like his 16 year old self again when his then girlfriend would invite him round with the promise of her parents being out of town and it made him chuckle.

cowboy ❤️

sounds perfect

you want me to cook?

baby ♥️

what type of host do you think i am ?!

ofc not

cowboy ❤️

just checking sweets

As it turns out, not much cooking happened anyways. Jake had decided your attire of denim shorts and a cropped tank top were entirely too indecent for an evening in and he decided to show that to you.

“Do you know what you do to me sweets?” Jake pants into your neck. You’d managed to persuade him to make it to your bed before you defiled the kitchen counter but half your clothing had been discarded up the stairs and across the landing leading to your room.

“I think I have a pretty good idea,” you giggle breathlessly, whining slightly as Jake hits just the right spot. He continues on at his impressive pace, your back arching up so your chests meet and he kisses sloppily down along your neck. His hands have a tight grip on your hips whilst yours tangle in his soft hair, it’s silky and feels smooth against your fingers without his gel that usually neatens it out.

“Shit, I’m close.” Jake groans into your neck. You squirm as his pace quickens further and he reaches down to circle your clit. You gasp, high pitched sending him over the edge. He spills into the condom and slumps onto you, breathing hard.

You stroke Jake’s hair and he speaks, “I love you.”

You smile at his admission, “I love you too, baby.”

He looks up at you from where his head is resting on your chest and your heart clenches. You surge forward and he pulls upright so you can clash your lips together messily, it’s sloppy mostly but neither of you care. He cards his fingers through the mess of hair at the back of your head and you whimper against his lips. The kiss is heated as Jake guides you back down against the pillow and starts to lead his lips down your throat, sucking with pressure into your pulse point.

That’s when you hear the front door slam shut.

“Darling? Are you home?” Your aunt calls.

You hear a mumbling of voices, Amelia is with her.

“Oh god,” You whine in to Jake’s chest, embarrassed.

He chuckles, rolling off of you to lay next to you, he’s finding the situation rather amusing until he realised all his clothes are strewn across the stairs where he can hear two sets of footsteps ascending.

“Whose shirt is this?” You hear Amelia ask her mother, confused about the item of clothing that appeared quite masculine and nothing anyone in her household of women would wear.

You yell out in a panic, “Uh yeah I’m in my room! Just getting changed.”

Jake looks at you concerned, as your aunt replies from seemingly outside of your door.

“Okay, well we’ll be downstairs.”

You can practically hear her smirk through the door.

You exhale deeply and look at Jake, you both struggle to contain your giggles as you shush him, smushing your finger against his lips. Finally hearing their footsteps fade away, you begin.

“You’ve gotta leave, I’m the example for Amelia and now she’s gonna think I’m a total slut!”

Jake laughs but quietens himself when he realises you’re being serious.

“Doll, she won’t think that she loves you!”

You smile at Jake’s sweet attempt to cheer you up but continue, “Baby as sweet as you are you still need to leave, I can’t have the first time you’re round my house meeting my family be when they’ve interrupted our second round.”

Jake chuckles but nods, understanding your worry. He goes to stand and heads for the bedroom door but you stop him in his tracks,

“Where are you going?” You question.

“To get my clothes?” Jake replies, brows scrunched in confusion.

“You cant go out there! They’ll see you!” You whisper shout, “I’ll get them.”

You pull on a pair of cotton pyjama shorts and a large t shirt that you had discarded on your bedroom floor and tip toe out onto the landing where you grab Jake’s boxers. Jake’s grey shorts lay on the top few steps but his shirt had been discarded near the bottom steps with his shoes. You lean down and grab his shorts as realise you can’t see your aunt and niece anywhere near the living room that feeds off from the staircase. As hurriedly and quietly as you could, you race to get his shirt and shoes before one of them could appear to question you. With his clothes in tow, you creep back upstairs to where you had left Jake in your room.

When you step into your room, you notice Jake is no longer sat on your bed. He’s stood looking at your bookshelf browsing his eyes across the books stored there. He takes notice of the ones with the most battered spines and makes a mental note to pick them up somewhere to read. It’s a funny, albeit sweet sight, watching your 6’1 boyfriend stood stark naked looking lost in thought in front of your bookshelves.

“Here’s your clothes babe,” you speak, pulling him from his trance. He looks slightly embarrassed but recovers quickly and takes his clothes, stepping into his boxers first. As he dresses you admire him, giggling as he makes a show out of sliding his shorts up and pulling his shirt down over his chest.

Finally dressed he speaks, “You want me to go out the window, don’t you?”

You chuckle and shrug your shoulders apologetically, “I promise I’ll bring you here properly and introduce you soon.”

He smiles and walks over to kiss you, “You’re lucky I love you.”

You bask in his comment shyly and wait until he’s at your window to speak, “I love you too cowboy, text me when you get home.”

He nods and blows you a kiss before opening your window and making his careful exit. The drop isn’t too small by any means, but he lands rather gracefully with his knees bent. Jake stands up to his full height and makes eye contact with two women staring out from the kitchen window.

Penny chuckles at him, already aware that Jake was the man in her house when her and Amelia had arrived home earlier than schedule from their visit to Mav’s hangar. Amelia waves at him with a smirk on her face and Jake awkwardly waves back. He swears he hears Amelia speak to her mother,

“I knew she had someone up there with her! None of us would wear a shirt that colour!”

Jake laughs, knowing you’re going to get an earful later and saunters off towards his truck.

You’re pretty content with how your plan worked out as you lie back against your pillows, before your cousin bursts into your room squealing.

“I wanna know everything about him! Wait is he that cute pilot I always see you talking to at the Hard Deck? Oh my god he totally is!”

You let her gush, reminding yourself how excitable you were as a young teen and look up to the doorway to make eye contact with your smiling aunt.

She cant help but feel transported back to the first time your mother (her younger sister) had found out she had been seeing one of the hot shot pilots her father had always warned her of. She sends a wink your way and listens as you try to answer Amelia’s questions as family friendly as possible.

3.

Penny’s heart clenched as she looked to your tear stained face. You and her had decided to do a rom com marathon to distract you from your emotions but clearly it hadn’t been working.

Jake had announced to you yesterday that he would be on deployment for 90 days in a weeks time. You had put on a brave face in front of him, claiming you’d miss him dearly but be okay whilst you waited back home. Once you left his place you had cried in your car firstly, then on the drive back when a song that reminded you of Jake played, and then finally into the arms of your aunt once your arrived home.

Penny knew of the difficulties of loving a naval aviator, her father had been one as well as her boyfriend and she was well aware of the heartbreak deployment often brought. Over the years she had learnt ways to deal with how she felt and was no longer affected in such a way. However, watching you live through the stages she once had to made her slightly woeful as well.

Hearing you sniffle, Penny decides to speak up, “You shouldn’t ignore him sweetheart, you’ll regret it when he’s gone.”

You look up at her, unimpressed with what is actually good advice. You sigh weakly and let her continue.

“Tell him how you feel,” you interrupt her quickly, “I don’t want him to be feel bad for me! He has his own worries he shouldn’t have to think for me.”

It’s now Penny’s turn to sigh at your words, “You and I both know Jake, and we know that he does that anyway. You’re just worrying him, more by avoiding him.”

You look up from where you’ve been playing with your hands and make eye contact with her. You know she’s right but it tastes so bitter to admit it. She smiles slowly as she sees you come to realisation. You stand abruptly from the couch and walk to the door, picking up your keys from the table as you go.

“Where are you going?” Penny questions, already knowing the answer.

You roll you eyes playfully at her, “don’t make me say it,” you pout before admitting your planned route.

But as you open the door, you spot something you weren’t expecting. Jake is pacing your porch and looks up at the sound of you opening the door.

He smiles sheepishly at you, “I was about to knock, I promise.”

You lock eyes with Jake and the tears come flowing out, “I’m sorry for ignoring you! I’m scared to be without you for so long but I didn’t want you to waste time feeling bad about me!”

Jake pulls you into his arms and rests his head above yours, “No time spent thinking about you is wasted, sweets.”

You giggle at how he manages to be cheesy even when you’re both so upset. You press your lips to his, savouring in how it feels wary that you won’t be able to do that for the next three months. You feels tears start to brim in your eyes again but Jake flicks them away.

“I don’t want my best girl to be upset, please baby.” Jake speaks.

You give him a watery smile and he laughs. He doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to be away from you for the next few months when he can’t even let you go from the hug.

“I’ll write to you every day,” you promise him.

“Oh, I’m counting on it doll.” Jake smirks into your hair.

Jake regrets his words when a week into his deployment he receives a thick letter written in your delicate handwriting. He makes the mistake of opening it whilst sat on the bunks next to Coyote and begs him to never mention the fact that he has now seen a few more risquée Polaroids of you than he had bargained for that morning.

+1

Jake had finally allowed himself to be excited about seeing you again now that he only had one day left of his deployment. Your letters and photos could only do so much to appease how much he needed to see you and hold you in real life. You had invaded his mind wholly for the past three months and it sent his heart racing slightly at thought of finally getting to see you again.

Knowing you would have your boyfriend back tomorrow had you slightly giddy as you wiped down the bar tops at the Hard Deck, whistling a song Jake had played to you many times before.

As you wiped you thought about having him all to yourself again, having his strong hands on your hips and his lips on your mouth but also him resting his head on your chest or letting you play with his hair.

As you continued to whistle, your aunt pushes her way through the double doors which lead to the kitchen and storage area of the Hard Deck. She smiles as she notices your significant change in demeanour from the months past and speaks up.

“Ready to close up for the night?” She questions.

“Absolutely.” You smile at her.

Penny would have loved to tease you for your lovesick behaviour, but she too was elated for tomorrow. Maverick had been sent away as well, to oversee any training taking place and although she would like to think she has a slight amount more emotional maturity due to her age she was still as giddy as you were on the inside.

You link arms with her as you walk to the car both now humming the tune to the last song that had been playing on the jukebox before you closed up for the night.

Waiting with the rest of the families for the aviators to arrive back feels surreal. It’s a warm day and your wearing Jake’s favourite sundress with some wedges that are verging on uncomfortable but look great with the outfit. You cant quite believe you’re going to see him again.

You’re looking across at the sea of family members, and make eye contact with Bob’s girlfriend. She smiles at you and waves before turning back to the matured woman she’s stood next to who you can only assume is Bob’s mother. You turn back to Penny and squeeze her hand as you see the first of the aviators leave the ship.

They come out in streams of khaki uniforms and you can’t help but smile at thought of seeing Jake in his own uniform. It always fit slightly too tightly over his biceps, making it mostly uncomfortable for him but extremely worth it for you.

Maverick is one of the first to leave the carrier along with the rest of the higher ranked officers. He makes his way quickly over to Penny but not before smiling politely at you. You move to the side slightly to give them their own space as well as giving you a better view of the people still leaving the carrier.

You let anxiety eat at your stomach a little the longer it takes for you to spot Jake. You wonder if he’ll even be excited to see you, if he’s grown tired of you over the months he’s been away. But all those worries are swept away as you spot Jake leaving the carrier walking next to Rooster and Coyote. Bob is slightly ahead of them and beelines for his girlfriend. You watch as Jake scans the crowd of people for you before you lock eyes.

He zones in on you and suddenly has urgency in his steps. Jake realises he has definitely knocked over some younger pilots and at least one small child in his march to get to you but he can’t find it in him to care. Not when his girlfriend is looking radiant as ever and waiting for him after three months.

Tired of waiting on him you run as fast as your wedges allow to make up for the distance and jump into his arms. You pepper kisses all over his face and finally land one on his lips, you go to pull away but he holds you there and deepens the kiss. You allow him to for a moment but you’re still aware of your surroundings so you pull away and rest your forehead against his.

“I missed you.” You speak against his lips.

You can feel him smiling.

“I missed you more.”

You mock sigh exasperatedly and roll your eyes, “God, do you have to make everything a competition?”

He laughs like he hasn’t in months, and pulls you in for a kiss again. You signal for him to let you down but he keeps you in his grip as you make you way over to Maverick and Penny who had just been watching you.

Penny watches you and your boyfriend giggle as he spins you around, holding the edge of your dress tight to your body so it doesn’t fly up. She squeezes Mav’s hand as she remembers how her and Pete could never reunite in such ways. Her father had been strict about her not fraternising with the pilots, let alone cocksure ones like Maverick, so she had never truly been able to settle down with him.

It delights her to see you like this with Jake because it makes her realise that you aren’t her and Maverick. You’re completely different, in the best way possible.

Jake finally sets you down so you can all greet each other. He nods to Maverick and hugs Penny before returning to your side, hoping he never has to leave it again.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿

a/n: my sincerest apologies bc it took me so long to get this out but i hope u enjoy bc i love jake and his gf they are my babes,, also this was inspired by someone who reblogged one of my other jake fics and was talking about how they thought penny definitely saw jake as a young mav and i was like omg so true and immediately started writing this, so whoever you are make yourself known !!!!

also had to use charlie bc he is so boyfriend

pls reblog and comment and tell me what u think !!!

requests are open :p

ty for reading :)

- honey <333

[ecoamerica]

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 | kitten braden x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | being a peep show girl can be sort of solitary work, so it's nice to spend the day with miss kitten... and your time together proves to be not only profitable, but a chance to act on a secret crush.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 4.4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only!!), voyeurism/exhibitionism, fingering, oral sex, girldick <3, penetration/top!kitten, creampie, come eating, titty sucking, brief transphobia (t-slur), friends/coworkers to lovers, lots of filth with some feelings in there too c:

You laid back across the massive velvet ottoman, sighing as you glanced at Kitten— she was laying on her stomach but propped up by her elbows, feet kicked up and crossed as she wrote in her journal with a fluffy-tipped pen. 

“What are you writing?” you asked her.

“A letter,” she answered sweetly, tilting her head a bit, “to my friend Charlie.”

“Will you tell her about me?” you asked with a smile.

“I already did,” she answered, “just here— sometimes they have me working with other girls,” she read aloud from the page, “like today, I’m paired up with the biggest slag in the whole place—”

“Fuck off!” you laughed, grabbing one of the nearby pillows and smacking her in the back with it, and she grinned at you.  “You didn’t really say that, did you?”

“No, of course,” she rolled her eyes.  “I told her that I made a friend.  That was what I said about you.”

You felt a little warmth in your cheeks as you sat up, tossing the pillow away— the whole thing was set up to look like a slumber party, so pillows were plentiful.  Of course, you’d never actually worn lingerie and heels to a slumber party, nor had you ever had a sexy pillow fight… but you probably would have if you were getting paid then, as you were now.

Speaking of, it was only a moment after Kitten finished her letter and tucked the journal and pen away that the red light flicked on— and you knew you had a customer on the other side of the glass.

“Well, hello Mister,” Kitten greeted with that sultry voice of hers, and you smiled as you knelt on the plushy surface beneath you, turning your body towards her but keeping your eyes on the barely-visible silhouette behind the wall.

“Look at you two,” a deep, rough voice praised as you smiled and moved a little closer to your companion.

“Do you like to watch girls play with each other, Mister?” Kitten asked coyly, running her fingers up your arm delicately.

The gruff voice chuckled, a scratchy sort of sound as it came through the speaker.  “You’re a couple of naughty little birds, aren’tcha?”

You giggled as you shook your head, before tenderly laying it on Kitten’s shoulder.  “No, sir, we’re very good girls— we like to do exactly as we’re told.”

“Mm, bet ya do,” he replied.  

“Care to introduce yourself, Mister?” Kitten asked quietly.  “We like to know who we’re talking to.”

“I think you two are the more interesting ones,” he replied.  “What are your names?”

“I’m Kitten,” she answered, seeming even more coy as she said that, “and this is my friend Lovely.”

“Lovely indeed,” the man growled.  “Just a friend, eh?”

“Well,” you feigned hesitation, looking up at Kitten and biting your lip, “sometimes we… experiment.”

It was all about the innocent act— you weren’t sure why, but it drew them in like moths to a flame: Kitten had always specialised in this, looking and acting like a little naive ingénue before revealing her dirty side.  You were used to the more classic stuff… you know, just acting like the most horny, whorish creature who ever lived.  You liked this more, especially since you didn’t have to do it alone.

“And today we’re having our special playtime,” Kitten continued, moving in closer to you but keeping a teasing distance between you— for the customer’s benefit, of course, not yours.  So why was it having an effect on you?  “Would you like to watch?”

“Yeah,” the man said instantly, “wanna see you ladies kiss each other.”

You smiled and sat up to eye-level with her, both of you shutting your eyes and leaning in.  The kiss was gentle and sweet, your fingers carefully brushing over her hair and then cupping her face as your lips moved together.  It was almost routine now, with how much you’d kissed each other today… almost.  You still felt your hips shift slightly, a hot feeling gathering between your legs.

The man groaned in approval through the speaker, but it was Kitten’s teeth brushing over your lip that made a chill run up your spine.

“Fuck, your tits are getting hard, aren’t they?” the man noticed— you hadn’t even realised it, but yes, your nipples were starting to poke up through the lace.  “Play with ‘em, Kitten.”

Slender, delicate hands ran up your body, carefully teasing your breasts at first before starting to really properly grope them; you moaned softly at the feeling, deepening the kiss and feeling yourself try to press in a little closer to her.  You were already so needy for friction of some kind, and you held on to Kitten’s thighs as you tried not to grip them too hard.

“Betcha wanna put those pretty lips on her tits, don’t ya, Kitten?” the man presumed.  The kiss broke quickly, making you almost lean in for more before you came back to reality.

“Yes,” Kitten sighed, “I do— and they’re so beautiful, do you want to see them?”

“‘Course I do, fuck,” the man groaned.

She was slow about it— she was slow about everything.  That was the idea, after all— to run the clock as best you could so they’d keep paying for more.  Her fingers delicately pulled down the straps of your lingerie, leaving little goosebumps behind as you sighed with anticipation.  She gently tugged the top down until your tits were free, and all three of you groaned a little as they were revealed.  

She held them again, and you loved the feeling of her touch against your bare skin.  Leaning down, she teasingly licked the bud as those big blue eyes blinked up at you sweetly.  You wanted to keep holding her gaze, but you couldn’t help your eyes falling shut with pleasure when she swirled her tongue around your nipple, holding tighter onto your breast before closing her lips around it and suckling.

“Fuck,” you breathed, but you smiled— not just from the feeling, but from realizing that your time would’ve run out by now if your customer had only paid once.  He must have added more coins to extend the time… teasing works, it seems.

She moved her mouth to the other nipple as you moaned louder, your hands sliding up her legs to run over her sides, her back, even teasing her tits to try to make it fair.  You couldn’t help it: you just wanted to touch her everywhere.

“You don’t quite fit in those panties anymore, Miss Kitten,” the man noticed, and she blushed a little as she pulled back from you and bit her lip.

“W-well, I can’t help that,” she defended, and you felt your chest deflate a bit at the sight of how hard she was, the tight lace looking like it was restraining her as the leaking tip bobbed up against her stomach, obscured slightly by the see-through material of her babydoll lingerie.

“Mm, maybe your friend can,” the man suggested.  “I bet you know how to use your mouth, don’t you, Lovely?” 

You tried not to seem too eager as you reminded yourself internally that you needed to go as slow as you could get away with.  You nodded and started to sink your head down into Kitten’s lap, before stopping and looking at the mirror again— almost losing your train of thought when you saw how hot you looked together in the reflection.

“Would you like to see me use it, Mister?” you asked shyly.

“Yeah— show me what a good little cocksucker you are.”

Kitten leaned back slightly, giving you a little more room to reach down and tenderly slide the panties down her pale, smooth thighs.  You tried to be real cute about it, just giving one little lick to the tip and giggling proudly when it flexed up towards you for a second.  “Oh!  Does that feel good, Kitten?”

“Y-yes,” she breathed.  You did it again, purring at the moan she let out; she watched you with that pretty mouth fallen slack and smeared with pink gloss, throat bobbing for a second when you met her gaze and even gave her a little wink that your customer couldn’t see from this angle.

You licked all the way from the base to the tip, hoping to cover the whole thing just with your tongue before you even did anything else.  You teased her for a while, trying to hear her little mewls and whimpers over the sounds of the man’s moaning through the speaker.  

Wrapping your lips around her fat tip, she bit her lip and dropped her head back with a sigh.  

“That’s good,” the man groaned proudly, “y’like that, Kitten?”

“Yes,” she panted, starting to push your head down so you would take more, “s-so good…”

“You can stop now,” he decided, and you both hesitated before you pulled away and sat up.  Poor Kitten, she looked almost heartbroken at getting cut off like that— you would’ve given anything to make her come…

Sitting up, she reached for your lips— you hoped she would kiss you again, but instead she wiped up where some of your lipstick had smeared, and you felt almost shy again as she did it.  Such a sweet gesture had no place in a job like this.

“C’mon, let’s see how wet little Lovely is after that,” the man demanded, and Kitten pulled you into her lap— your back to her chest, her arms wrapping around you— as she slowly spread your legs for you.  “Fuck, soaked through the panties, did you?”

“Did you?” Kitten repeated in a surprised whisper just to you, slipping two fingers down to tease you and feel the wet patch on the lace.  In your defence, these things weren’t really built for absorption, were they?

“Lemme see that pretty hole, then,” he ordered.  “Show me her cunt.”

Kitten gingerly pulled your panties aside, and you caught in the reflection not only how soaked and swollen you really were, but how absolutely wrecked your facial expression had become.

“Shit, s’a pretty fuckin’ pussy,” the voice praised darkly, groaning again when Kitten used her fingers to spread your slick lips and give the customer a better look at your opening.  

“Should I rub her a little more, Mister?” Kitten asked sweetly, starting before he’d even agreed to it.

Your back arched up as she ran her finger over your clit, teasing it with gentle circles.  You shut your eyes and sighed, losing control of your hips as they rocked into her touch.  “R-right there, Kitten,” you pleaded softly, but apparently your customer had other plans.

“Put two fingers inside her,” he ordered Kitten, making you whine in frustration at the separation from where you were most sensitive.  

She was careful about it— she had to be, with her nails— but it still felt intense as she pushed her fingers inside you, even just two stretching you quite a bit as you moaned lowly.  They moved slowly and deliberately within you, and her heavy breathing began to tickle your neck as your legs almost tried to push together from the sensation.

You were starting to really get into it, moaning and rocking against her as she kissed your neck and played with one of your tits with her free hand.  So, of course, he had to stop you again.  “I wanna see you fuck her,” the man said suddenly, and your heart skipped for a half-second.  It had never gone that far— you didn’t even know if she did that— but you felt your channel clench on her fingers at just the thought.

“Oh, my— you’re very dirty, aren’t you, Mister?” Kitten noticed.

“Just do it,” he insisted, “wanna see how she looks with a cock in her.”

You could hear the coins rolling in the slot, so you obeyed; it ended up with both of you kneeling a bit on the ottoman, her body still slotted behind yours, your heavy eyes transfixed on the reflection— and ostensibly on the man on the other side— as she looked down at where she was about to enter you.

“So hot,” the man praised, but you could barely hear him— you just heard Kitten softly ask you if you were ready.  Instead of answering or nodding, you just started to slowly sink down onto her, making both of you moan.  “Yeah, fuck,” he went on, and Kitten suddenly grabbed your hip to keep you steady, guiding you just how she needed until your ass was flush against her lap and your back was pressed to her chest.

“Oh,” you breathed, melting slightly against her as you both adjusted to the feeling.  Slowly, she started to move— and you moved with her, less like thrusting and more like writhing.  It was sensual, it was sexy; it was driving you fucking crazy.

She ran her tongue along the edge of your ear as she grinded against you, your eyes rolling back at the feeling.  “Fuck, Kitten,” you mumbled under your breath, arching your back as her hand slipped down over the front of your body, reaching between your legs to start teasing your clit.

“Yeah, like that,” the man agreed, breathing heavily himself.  “So fuckin’ dirty…”

You moved together in perfect harmony, her body seeming to fit so naturally against yours— and inside it.  She moaned softly by your ear, a little deeper than you were used to hearing it, and you shuddered with delight as you imagined that was how her real pleasure sounded.

“Feels good, does it, Lovely?” he prompted, his grin obvious in his voice.

“Yes,” you moaned loudly, “yes, so good…”

You were so sensitive from being essentially teased all day, from the joy of pleasing her and the effortless way she played with your body like her toy.  Still, it was a little embarrassing how quickly you became overwhelmed with the feeling.

She moved a little faster, egging on your needy moans and holding on tighter to your hips as she filled you just right.  “Oh, fuck,” you yelped, feeling the pressure start to build as you tried your best to push back against her thrusts and get her that much deeper.

“You like how she fucks you, eh?” the man taunted.

“Yes!  Yes, she’s amazing,” you panted, biting your lip as you fought the urge to beg Kitten for more.

“Never been fucked by a tranny before, have ya?” the man asked with a rough laugh.

You reached back behind your own head to hold onto the back of Kitten’s neck, pulling her closer so you could lean in to whisper in her ear— the ear your hidden watcher couldn’t see.  “Don’t listen to him, Kit,” you breathed, “you’re so fucking beautiful.  I’m so close.”

She turned her head and kissed you, sloppy and needy with heavy breaths passing between your lips to hers and back; it was all getting blurry and sweaty and that feeling just kept getting heavier and sharper as you rocked your hips back against hers.  Every movement pushed you just that much closer— 

“Fuck, I’m out of coins!” you heard the voice announce, but you were barely paying attention— until the red light suddenly went off.  Then, both of you stopped, panting and breaking away from the kiss to look up at the light.  You waited a moment to see if it would turn back on, only to glance at each other and begin to laugh as you realised you weren’t going to be hearing from your visitor again.

“We can stop,” Kitten noticed— but she didn’t move away, she only looked at your eyes, and you saw a hint of nervousness in hers.

“I don’t wanna stop,” you admitted in a whisper.

“Me either,” she smiled, speaking under her breath as one of her hands came up to hold your face sweetly.  “I don’t ever want to stop.”

You kissed her, and the whole thing felt different without anyone watching.  Sweeter, softer— you loved feeling her smile against you, and you smiled back, until she started to move again and your lips dropped to a moan.  “Oh, Kitten,” you breathed, writhing against her as her hands moved all over you, touching anywhere they could reach.  She pet and teased your thighs with one hand, pinching a hard nipple with the other, until you were shaking with desperation.

“You’re easy to please,” she noticed with a teasing laugh, trailing kisses along your neck and shoulder, and you groaned through a grin.

“Easier when you’ve had me worked up all day,” you admitted.  “Kissing and touching you for hours but never getting to come… you should see me when I get home from work, Kit, I can’t stop touching myself— beat my poor clit all night, soak the sheets—”

“Poor thing,” she clicked her tongue at you, and you shivered again.  

“You never got naughty after work?” you pressed.

“I didn’t say that,” she mumbled with a smirk, and you laughed softly.  “I thought about you… about how soft your lips are… your sweet tongue…”

“I wanted to taste you, Kit,” you blurted out, excited that she might have had the same fantasy.  “Fuck, I wanted someone to tell us to do it today— to make me put my mouth on you.  I wanted it so bad—”

“It felt better than I imagined it,” she admitted.

“God, I wasn’t— I didn’t even do it like I wanted,” you admitted with a groan.  “I wanted so much more…”

“Show me,” she begged— it almost reminded you of those men you had to listen to all day, except unimaginably perfect.

You sat up and spun around in a moment, pushing her down onto the ottoman with a sigh.  She smiled at your eagerness, only to moan when you instantly dove down and licked her again— but harder and faster this time, with a wide tongue and a dark stare up at her.

“O-oh, darling,” she praised, but could only choke on a moan when you wrapped your mouth around her and sunk down in one quick motion.  Yes, you choked, but you wanted to— you wanted as much of her as you could get, any way you could get it.  “Oh!”

You hummed happily as you sucked hard and bobbed fast, too desperate for any teasing now.

“You are a dirty girl,” she cooed, holding onto your hair as you stroked what your lips couldn’t reach and did your best to pleasure her every way you knew how.  “You can taste yourself, can’t you?”

You hummed again, agreement this time, and she tightened her grip on your hair.

You could only take a few more minutes of that— your poor cunt was dripping, flexing on nothing, desperate to be filled again.  “Fuck, I need you,” you explained as you pulled away and climbed up to straddle her lap, that grip on her now guiding the swollen head to your entrance.  She looked up at you with the slightest smirk around her open mouth, and you could tell she was aching for you, too.

Sinking down, you both moaned loudly— and you almost whimpered when she went even deeper than she had before.  Balancing your hands on her chest, you tried to adjust to it as quickly as possible because you had absolutely burned through all your patience already.

When you were ready to move, the pace seemed to pick up right away: in a moment, you were a blur on her, lifting yourself over and over as each stroke created the perfect friction against your sensitive walls.  You rode her hard and fast, desperate for release, letting your head fall back at the feeling.  “Oh, Kitten— y-you feel so good—”

“You too, dear,” she breathed, grabbing your hands and holding them tightly— your fingers interlaced with hers, and you held onto them for balance as you bounced on her.  “You too— so warm inside…”

“Fuck, fuck!” you whined.  “Wh-what if someone puts in a coin now,” you panted, “and sees us doing this?”

“Then they’ll probably blow in their britches,” she suggested with a grin, and you laughed before another movement forced her tip right up against your spot, making you gasp again.  

“G-god, don’t make me laugh, Kitten— I’m so close, I’m so fucking close—”

“I know,” she breathed, “I know— I can feel your little pussy, squeezin’ me—”

“Fuck,” you whined.

“What if we came together, darling?” she suggested as she panted under you.  “Wouldn’t it be filthy, if I came inside you?”

“O-oh, fuck, perfect,” you moaned, “it would be perfect, Kit— please, please—”

“Yes,” she hissed, holding your hands tighter.  “Let’s see you come, darling— no faking it like you do for the boys.”

“Gonna come,” you promised, nodding fervently as you felt yourself moving (inside and out) completely on instinct.  

It made you shake all over, it made you bite down on your lip and dig your nails into her hands; it was sharp and hot and you had never felt anything quite like it… probably because you’d never had the patience for being on the edge for so long.  You didn’t want to be too loud, not only to avoid getting caught but to make sure you could hear her and the precious way she moaned as she spilled inside you, her hips shakily bucking up into you when your own strength failed.

Slowly, it came to a shaky and shivery stop, and you blinked your eyes open to find the world a little blurrier, but sweeter, than it was before.

You sunk down, still holding her hands and sliding them upward as you brought your face to hers, smiling and almost losing yourself in her eyes.  She kissed you— slow, soft, both of you still catching your breath— and hummed in delight as you relaxed on top of her.

“That was perfect,” she whispered to you, and you moaned quietly in agreement before breaking the kiss to lay your head down beside hers on the velvet.  She turned her face to keep looking at you, and you must have been that way for one of those brief-yet-infinite moments, just looking at each other and trying to soothe your hearts as they raced.

“We should clean up,” you finally sighed, “before someone sees us…”

“How will we explain all that come leaking out of your pretty hole, hm?” she asked with a proud smile, making you bite your lip.

“Maybe I’ll just be very wet for our next customer,” you laughed, barely finding the strength— mental or physical— to let go of her hands and roll off of her onto your back.

You both pulled yourself together as best you could— gone soft now, she tucked herself between her legs again and slipped her panties back up, and you found your discarded lingerie top laying off the side to put back on.

You were about to reapply your lipstick when she stopped you, gently laying her hand on yours, and you raised an eyebrow.

“Kiss me again,” she pleaded softly, “before someone puts a coin in—”

You jumped forward and pressed your lips to hers, tossing the lipstick aside; she hummed against you and pulled you closer, giggling into the kiss in the most adorable way.

Neither of you noticed the light turning on, but you both jumped slightly when another man’s voice— a little higher-pitched and smoother than the last— came over the speaker.  “My my,” he purred, both of you breaking away and looking at your reflection in the glass.  “Looks like you two started without me.”

“We couldn’t help it,” you panted out as you draped your arms around Kitten, giving the man on the other side a pitiful-yet-pleading sort of look.  “We’re just so worked up, is all… do you know that feeling?”

This was your wheelhouse— needy, horny, raunchy.  Much more natural for you than Kitten’s innocent style; but she did just fine with this one, too, leaning in to nibble at your ear as she stroked your back.  “Don’t stop on my account,” the man offered, “you two look perfect together.”

“We do,” Kitten agreed in a whisper as you both saw your reflection, before holding your face tenderly and turning it to hers, kissing you harder this time.  So much for the teasing, soft kisses you’d been trading all day— you were both smiling and panting into it, falling all over each other until she was leaning back and you were between her legs, running your fingers over her hips and chest until she moaned for you.

“You do more than just kiss, don't you?" the man asked, and you grinned against Kitten's sweet lips as you nodded.

"We do whatever you want," you promised, glancing to the side at him— or, where he would be, if you could see him.

"Shit, almost out of time," he noticed, and you both grinned at the sound of more coins rolling in.

Kitten's hand slipped down the front of your body, into your panties, as she purred sweetly at you.  "Oh, right there," you moaned— certainly overdoing it for the benefit of your watcher, but not entirely lying about how good it felt.

Just when she was doing exactly what you needed her too, and getting you all needy again in the process, she pulled her hand away and smirked as you whined softly.

“She’s so wet,” Kitten informed the man with a purr.  “See how she’s soaked my fingers?”

She held up the manicured hand, a mix of your come and hers dripping down her fingers as you heard a happy moan from the man on the other side.  “Wily minx,” he scolded you playfully.

“Why don’t you clean these off for me, Lovely?” Kitten instructed you, tilting her chin up a bit and watching you as she brought the fingers to your lips and watched you lick them slowly.  You hummed at the taste, loving having a secret with her while this man watched, none the wiser.  You fluttered your eyes shut as you started to suck them properly, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around the digits inside your mouth.

"So naughty," the man praised, "can't wait to see all you girls can do."

More coins, more time; you gave Kitten a knowing look, and her expression in return was understandably a little weary and yet obviously excited.  You both knew you had a long night ahead of you, and your heart was already fluttering with excitement.  Not just your heart, of course, but your heart most of all.

[giggly-squiggily]

okay okay wait i have some non-angsty hashira hcs too <3

okay so we know it's canon that sanemi can read but he can't write and given tengen's upbringing there's no way he can't write so when he finds out i bet he uses it against sanemi, he'll tickle him and when sanemi tells him to back off he'll be like "idk what you mean, can you spell that out for me :)"

So MEAN! 😭 Call me sadistic, but I love it lols! I've gotcha covered, Rey! :D

CW: Swearing

“Gah! What the actual- TENGEN!” Sanemi whirled, glaring daggers as the grinning ex-shinobi, arms pressed tightly into his sides.

“Hey Grump-zugawa! Got a question for ya-” He reached out poking Sanemi again and again. “Is it true you don’t know how to write? Like- you read really well, but you can’t write letters?”

“F-Fuhuhuck off, you oversized rock!” Sanemi snarled, stumbling back as he tried fighting off the hands prodding at him. His face burned, both from the tickles and his weakness brought up. “Geheheht the hell oohoohoff me!”

“Can I get that in writing?” Tengen winked, grabbing Sanemi’s fist before it could collide with his face. “Okay, mean- I get it. Still, I didn’t just come over here to bully you.” His free hand shot down, wiggling along the Wind Hashira’s exposed side. “Okay, maybe I did a little.”

“Geahahhahhahaha! T-Tehehehengen, I’ll fuhuhuhuhcking muhuhuuhurder yohuhuhuhou!” Sanemi shot up with a cackle, torn between yanking himself away and throwing another fist into the bigger man’s direction. For now, he had settled on trying to yank the offending hand away from his ribs. “Bahahhahahack ohohohohoohff!”

“Nah, this is too fun. Anyway- I genuinely came over about it. See- I grew up required to write, and I’m fairly good at it.” Tengen changed gears, clawing five fingers along Sanemi’s belly and making him double over with a squeal. “I can teach you how to write!”

“I dohohohoohn’t neehehehehehd yohohohohohur hehehehehelp!”

“They all say that- but in the end, my students are master writers. Here- first lesson’s free! T…I…” He poked out the shapes along Sanemi’s skin, giggling between letters himself at the way the pale haired man doubled over. “Hold still, I’m teaching you to spell! C…K…”

“TEHEHEHEHNGEHEHHEEHEN!” Sanemi cried, unable to fight back the laughter any longer. Figuring he was screwed either way, he reeled his leg back and kicked upward. Tengen’s instincts kicked in as he jumped back, releasing the other. Sanemi was free!

For five seconds. Then his back hit the ground and Tengen was looming over him with a new glint in his eyes.

“Wow, and I thought I was mean! Did you really just try to kick me in the chin?” His hands were back along Sanemi’s torso, making the other swear and scream. “Fine, let’s work on another word. S…O…R…R…Y… Can you spell that one for me?”

“TEHEHEHEHENGEHEHEHHEHEHEN, SCREHEHEHEHEHW YOUHUHUHUHHU!” Sanemi howled, feet kicking as he flailed about. “FIHIIHIHINE I’LL LEEHHEHET YOU TEHEHEHHEACH MEHEHEHEHEHE!”

“See? Was that so hard?” Tengen grinned, releasing him but stayed hovering. “Really- I do want to teach you, Shinazugawa. I think it’d be nice for both of us.”

“Heheh…hehe..hohow so?” Sanemi groaned out, too tired to do more than push his bangs out of his face.

“I feel accomplished as a teacher, and you get to send love letters to Tomioka!” Tengen grinned, laughing when Sanemi went beet red.

It wasn’t long before their positions were reversed, Sanemi’s fingers flying over Tengen’s armpits and the big oaf cackling for mercy.

Send me a headcanon and character(s) and I'll write a short 300-500 word dabble for it!

[alphascorpiixx]

Phantom Touch - Chapter 4

Zelink Week Day 3: Letters

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Read on AO3

@zelinkcommunity

---

The sun sparkled on an expanse of water that stretched to the horizon. The lull of the waves against the shore was mesmerizing. Zelda could stare at the ocean for hours. Her heart ached to swim in the glorious blue sea.

But she had to contend with only watching. When they first arrived at Papuchia Village, Zelda had tried to swim while Link explored. Her spirit form didn’t make a splash or even get wet. She didn’t want Link to see her disappointment, so she floated by the station while Link searched for Carben.

The village hadn’t changed much since her first visit many years ago. She’d spent a summer in Papuchia and became friends with many of the locals. She couldn’t speak to the people she recognized, but it was nice to see that the monsters around the kingdom hadn’t been troubling them too much.

She spotted Link’s familiar green hat waving in the breeze. Link was walking over to Zelda, with paper and a pen in his hands and no Carben in sight.

“Aren’t you supposed to be looking for Carben?” Zelda teased.

Link blushed and ducked his head. “Yeah, but I figured the kingdom would be fine if we took a quick break. I wanted to write letters to Alfonzo and Niko.”

She floated by his side as he sat down. His legs hung over the edge of the island, and his feet kicked the water. “Who’s Niko?” Zelda asked to distract herself from a pang of jealousy. Something as silly as splashing in the water hardly warranted the reaction.

“He’s my friend from back home. He’s known my family for a long time, and he loves telling me stories of all his adventures, so I wanted to do the same.”

Zelda watched Link write his letters. He narrated as he wrote, and Zelda offered important details of their travels to include. Link also told her of his life in Aboda Village and of Niko’s fondness for paper cutouts.

“His favorite story is the one of the Great Sea, where a hero teamed up with a pirate crew to defeat—”

Zelda shot up. “Wait, a pirate crew? Is this the same Niko who served with Tetra’s crew?”

Link blinked, startled by her interruption. “Uh, he’s the only Niko who served with Tetra’s crew that I know of, so . . . yes?”

Zelda laughed. “I can’t believe he’s still alive! Tetra was my grandmother, you know. The founder of Ferrovia. And she also told me stories of their adventures.”

“When this is all over, and you have your body back, I have to introduce you to him! And then he can tell you all the stories of your grandmother that she would never have told you.”

“Oh, and what would those be?” Zelda leaned over him, her hands on her hips.

Link stammered, and they both dissolved into giggles. She sat down again—or as close to sitting as her floating body could get. They fell silent and stared out at the sea. Link placed his hand over hers. They couldn’t touch, but their hands occupied the same space, and Zelda imagined she felt the weight of his hand on her fingers.

“Niko’s favorite story was of my great-uncle,” Link said. His voice was wistful, and his gaze remained fixed on the horizon. “He was a boy from a small village, like me, but he traveled the Great Sea and saved the world from evil. I’m actually named after him.”

“He was the Hero of Winds,” Zelda said. “That was also my grandmother’s favorite story. Her real name was Zelda, and I’m named after her, too.”

“Since our ancestors knew each other, I’m glad we got to meet, too.” Link smiled at her. Zelda loved the way his eyes softened and dimples appeared in his cheeks.

She smiled back. “Yeah, me too.”

Link folded his letters and sealed them in envelopes. “Do you want me to write a letter for you? Maybe to your Teacher, to let him know you’re okay?”

Zelda stared down at the paper in Link’s hands. She knew she should send a letter to Teacher. Surely he was worried sick about her absence.

She shook her head. “No. I don’t want Cole to find it somehow and use it to figure out what we’re doing.”

“We haven’t seen any trace of him, maybe he doesn’t care what we’re doing about the Spirit Tracks. He already has your body—um, I-I didn’t mean, I . . . Sorry.”

Zelda winced. She curled her fingers, wishing she could just have the simplest touch of holding someone’s hand. “It’s okay. I know what you mean. I think . . . I think I’d like to write a letter, but not send it. Not yet.”

Link’s face brightened. He tucked his own letters into his tunic pocket and grabbed a fresh page.

“Just tell me what you want to say.”

---

A/N: the idea for Ferrovia as the name of the kingdom is from this post

I also have a headcanon that Link is descended from Aryll

[astrobei]

oh my god hello so. i was the anton that send the flirty will touch prompt n thought it was time to reveal myself bc i could not be more delighted that not only did u like my prompt u turned it into a whole fic ??!! :0 fully got the ao3 notif and smiled in public. n then read it. n then i went to your blog and saw that I WAS THE ONE THAT PROMPTED IT ???? this is basically just a love letter fan mail to u but i am so obsessed w everything u write and this one made me giggle blush kick my feet etc. u are literally the captain of confident flirty will. the ceo. i’m ur assistant if ull have me.

HI OMG !! ok i need u to know that i saw ur ask and was like hmmm ok what can i do with this and then the idea popped into my head and simply Would Not Leave,,, so thank u thank u i had so much fun writing it !! so so glad u enjoyed it too because it was honestly just so self indulgent (flirty will UGH) and just. i just need more fics where byler are comfortable w each other and their sexualities n it’s just goopy gushy fluff of them being so into each other <3 this is such a sweet message thank u so much for dropping by and for the reveal !! and of course i will have u ! u can sit next to me and witness firsthand just how much i have to lie down and breathe and shove my face into a pillow and scream and kick my feet while writing a kiss scene. special privileges <333

[ecoamerica]

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

[rubyreduji]

i am unwell :,)))))) your newest fic Timeless had me in actual tears I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND 😭😭😭 the way how you were able to use language according to the different eras that jihoon loved the main reader def caught my eye and made his letters even more enjoyable (which i do gotta say that all the letters had me giggling, twirling my hair, and kicking my feet). i absolutely adore how love sickening the two characters were and the way how you were able to tell three different love stories in one fic is def something to applaud about!! this fic had me smiling throughout and brought me to tears (in the more emotional bits bc i’m a sucker for their romance) and was overall such an enjoyable read :))

congrats on the new milestone!! <3

OH MY FUCKING GOD???? THANK YOU SO MUCH this message is so sweet like ahhhh

so actually writing the letters was the hardest part becasue i didn't want them sound too repetitive so im glad that you liked them

[daughterofdrearburh]

hey sharky 💕💖

please know you have me blushing bright red with every ask you send me. it's also usually accompanied by a fair bit of giggling and kicking my feet (picture me laying on my bed and twirling my phone cord 80s girl style as i listen to what you have to say)

i cannot for the life of me focus on writing a response to you the other day because i just sit and smile at your asks instead of like. thinking and being able to process words (i know the moots are gonna come for me for being "down bad" or god forbid even "down horrendous" but yk what. yeah. i am) (edit: they are Actively bullying me in the voice channel rn) so i thought i'd head over to your waters to say hi 💕

how has life been treating you? ik i get the behind the scenes in the gc but im always down to listen to what you have to say 😌 plus i heard you had your first practice today!! i hope that went well 💖 also excited to hear your thoughts on frankenstein if you've gotten any further into that

signed, sealed, and delivered with a kiss

- 👑

hiii my love 😌

hehe i’m glad to hear you like my messages so much. i’m certainly not above admitting that there is a fair amount of rolling around giggling and screeching into my pillow rom-com style on my end…

you know what, i am down atrocious and if anyone has a problem with it i will simply rend them limb from limb. i’m so so sad i missed that call!! i hope i get to say hi and hear your voice soon <3

life is pretty good, a lot better when i get asks like this and a lil sideblog action (i know i’m super subtle but that may be my fave 😳) practice was great, i’m so happy to be riding again!! i’m pretty sore from yesterday and atm VERY sleepy, but i just have one discussion and a zoom meeting left and then i’ll be done for the day (aka ready to pay even more attention to you)

frankenstein is unfortunately still on the back burner as i struggle to catch up with all the readings i missed in week 1 😭 it’s still on my mind (not as much as you are ofc)

i am so tempted to send you something in return but i think there may be a love letter of mine still sitting in your inbox so i will attempt to restrain myself… unless you’d prefer otherwise?

😘

[tobitofunction]

Oh baby Pt 3

more to come as I really love the idea of dad daichi 

Part1 Part2 Part4 Part5 Part6 Part7 Part8 Part9 Part10 part11 part12 Part13 part14 part15 part16 part17 part18

You slowly made your way downstairs, both of your parents seemed to be back from their trip.” Yes dad?” you asked, your dad quickly turned around, “What is this?” He asked holding up a piece of paper,” I..”,” It’s a letter from the doctor for the bill for an ultrasound. Are you pregnant?” he asked failing to stay calm, you didn’t answer but just started at your feet playing with the hem of your cheer skirt,” ANSWER ME”,” Yes” you gulped a tear falling from your eyes,” How stupid can one person be, getting yourself knocked up like street Whore” he continues to shout. Meanwhile, your mom stood in silence, she didn’t look at you, no attempt to keep her husband calm,” You have two options, getting that thing removed from your body and never seeing that boy again or to leave and never contact us again. If your adult enough to get pregnant you can also live on your own” he said,” Please Dad, I’m sorry Daichi and I -“,” CHOOSE NOW”.

Meanwhile, Daichi came out of the shower when he saw your voicemail, a small smile spread on his lips, he quickly called you back but was just hit with your voice mail. “Hey baby, I heard your message. I’m excited to hear your answer, I love you no matter what. Call me once you hear this”, Daichi then got dressed when he heard his phone vibrate,” Hey-”,” Daichi, can you come and get me, please? My parents found out and kicked me out of the house. I don’t know where else to go” you said, hiccuping thought the sentence. “ Of course meet me at Ukai’s shop,” he said.

You readjusted your bag while walking towards Ukai’s, it was slowly getting dark again and the weather in Japan was still cold. You arrived at Ukai’s and saw the coach reading his newspaper, he gave you a wave which you returned. You hoped that he didn’t see your tear-streaked face but he apparently did when a box of tissues appeared next to you. “You must be Daichi’s girl, wanted to talk to you at practice but never got the chance to,” he said sitting down next to you,” Daichi told you?”,” Well, he bought some pregnancy tests from me, so it’s either you or he got someone else pregnant but from how you look I guess it’s you and that your parent’s kicked you out” Ukai patted your head sympathetically,” You properly will need a job and luckily for you, I’m looking for staff and from what specs keep saying about you I trust you not set the store one fire while I’m gone” your eyes widen,” Wait so you're saying I’m able to work here?” he nodded with a smile,” From next week on, we can work around your school and club activities, the same with Daichi if wants it”. Before you knew it, you threw yourself at Ukai, letting out a grunt,” Okay kid, let go of me before people start getting the wrong idea” he said, gently peeling you off him. “ I know it’s not my place to ask, but will you keep it?”, you were about to open your mouth when you saw Daichi running towards you. “ Daichi” you mumbled running into his arms,” I’m so sorry, how could they do this?”,” My dad said he didn’t want to have a whore at his house and gave me an ultimatum either I get rid of the baby and never see you again or I never come back home,” you said,” I guess who went with the second option”,” I love you too much to never see you again Dai and I want to keep this baby and raise them with you” you smiled making his eyes widen with happiness, he swung you around gleefully,” Dai, careful” you giggled, he then carefully let you back on your feet and kissed you,” As I told your girl, you two can have a job in my store, we will work something out but now Y/N needs to rest”.

Daichi grabbed your bag and with his other he grabbed your hand, rubbing the skin softly ” Is this everything?”,” they only gave me 10 minutes to back up my stuff, you still have that spare key right?” Daichi nodded,” We can go directly after school to get the rest, they won’t be there until much late” Daichi hummed,” Yeah and tomorrow is teacher’s conference so there won’t be any training for us” he said.

Arriving at Daichi’s house-made your hands become sweaty, what if they also kick you out and Daichi, where would your live?.” I’m home again and Y/N is also here” before you could register Daichi’s two youngest siblings came running in and jumped at you,” Y/N, we missed you. Are going to stay for dinner?” his sister asked, as his brother still was hugging you,” Where is Mom?” Daichi asked peeling his brother off you,” Cooking dinner, Dad is helping her”. Daichi gave your hand a squeeze before walking with you towards the kitchen.

“Daichi, your back where did-” Daichi’s mom began but stopped once seeing you and your tear-stained face.” Honey, what happened?” she asked worriedly making Daichi’s dad turn as well.” Mom, Dad, we have something to tell you” Daichi began as you clang to his arm, Daichi took a deep breath,” Y/N parent’s kicked her out because....because she is pregnant and, and we are planning to keep the baby,” Daichi said, silence filled the room, only the sound of the rice cooker filled the room. “ I’m so sorry for ruining your son's life but-”,” Honey you didn’t ruin anything, I won’t say I’m happy about this but what happened happened and we can't change that,” she said walking over to you and drying your tears. Meanwhile, Daichi’s dad still stayed quiet, which made both of you nervous,” Y/N, did my son force you to have sex with him without a condom? Or what happened?” he asked taking you back,” No, sir. He didn't, we were always safe..maybe the condom broke, it happens” you said nervously. Daichi’s dad looked between the two of you,” Son, can we speak for a while alone?” Daichi nodded.

The two men went to the corridor, leaving you and his mom talking in the kitchen.” Did you do anything to that-”,” What no? Why would I and before you ask neither would Y/N” Daichi hissed,” Okay, I believe you but you know have a responsibility for her and the baby, I don’t want to hear that you two broke up and that she is raising the baby by herself, got it? I didn’t raise you like that?” Daichi nodded,” I would never leave her or the baby”. Daichi's dad smiled and patted his son’s shoulder,” She can stay here, don’t want my grandchild and daughter in law to be in some kind of danger. However thanks to you we now have to talk about safe sex with your siblings. As I don’t want a repeat of this”.

[yellowsuitcase]

In the Prefect’s Bathroom Part 4 // Draco Malfoy

A/N: Guys!!! It's the FINAL part, yay!! I'm super proud of this and I think it's super cute and just AAHH I really hope y'all like it. Lemme know what you think of it and if you expected any of it. Thank you so much for reading, and Happy Thanksgiving (if you celebrate it)

Summary: Draco has been trying to get Y/N to talk to him since he confessed, but he hasn't had any luck. Until, he finds something she left in his dorm.

Warning(s): SMUT! Unprotected sex, lots of fluff, swearing, angst

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist & Taglist

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Three weeks had gone by, and now Draco was on his bed, toying with the idea of giving up. Y/N had been avoiding him ever since that day he confessed. No matter how hard he tried to get her to warm back up to him, she kept her distance. He had tried everything. He'd sit next to her in class; she'd move seats. He'd wait outside the Gryffindor tower; she'd strut right past him. It seemed as nothing was working, so of course, he was getting a bit discouraged.

Just a couple days ago, the two of them had been in Charms class, and on his way out, Draco noticed that Y/N had dropped her book. This is my chance, he thought to himself. He quickly bent down to pick it up since he assumed she would've been already halfway down the corridor by the time he got back up. But when he arose from the floor, she was standing right in front of him. His heart pounded in his chest. Draco knew he had to stall for time, try and get her defenses to weaken. He turned the book over in his hands. "The Tales of Beedle and Bard," he read aloud. Y/N blushed and averted her eyes. He opened the cover and read the first few lines to himself.

There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot.

Draco shut the book and said, "I've actually never read them. My father didn't permit me to. Said it was written by a muggle lover. Supposedly he filed an official request to remove it from Hogwarts's shelves." Draco chuckled as he ran his finger along the spine of the light blue book. But his laughter died when he glanced up at Y/N. She looked rather upset, causing Draco to panic and quickly backtrack. "That isn't to say I don't want to read them now. I mean, I'm sure they're not as bad as Father thought they were," he sputtered. Y/N remained silent. "Perhaps... we could read them together, maybe?" he asked hopefully. He knew it was a shot in the dark, but he did it anyway. Draco hadn't heard Y/N's voice in weeks, and it was making him grow desperate.

Softly, she reached out her hand, and Draco held his breath. But then her fingers grasped the book, and the Slytherin felt his heart shatter. He cleared his throat, trying to push away the lump that had formed in it. His grip loosened, and Y/N pulled her book towards her chest. She didn't even look at him before she turned around and rushed down the hallway, leaving Draco feeling stranded, hopeless, and, quite frankly, stupid for even trying.

Since then, he hadn't put in nearly as much effort into rekindling their friendship. It was painfully obvious Y/N wanted nothing more to do with him, and as much as it hurt, Draco had to accept that. But that didn't stop his thoughts. It couldn't. Every night, he would lay awake, worrying. Worrying about Y/N's wellbeing. Was she happy? Did she make any new friends?

Did she still feel alone?

Draco didn't know. From the little he'd seen of her, he assumed she was alright. He hoped she was. But he had no real way of knowing. He had tried reaching out to her roommate multiple times, but all Stephanie would tell him was that she thought Y/N seemed fine, just a bit quiet. That answer never sat well with him. During those few weeks, before he confessed, he had learned so much about Y/N. One of those things being that she was not quiet. She had talked his ear off many times, telling him funny stories from her childhood. Like how, after one of their study sessions, she told him about the time she had made her pet fish turn yellow just by looking at it. Draco remembered that day clearly.

"My mum was terrified! One moment my fish was blue and the next he was yellow! I mean, imagine that." Y/N laughed. Draco shook his head in disbelief. "Sounds like you were quite the little mischief-maker," he replied as he twirled his wand between his fingers, it was becoming a bit of a habit. Y/N continued giggling, kicking her legs as she did so. "You should've seen the look on my dad's face when he got home. That was the day he sat her and me down and told us he was a wizard. My poor mum. She had no idea."

Draco sat up in shock. "Wait, wait, you're a half-blood?" he asked, eyes wide. Y/N cocked an eyebrow. "Is that a problem, Malfoy?" she questioned as she began to sit up. Her tone was somewhat threatening. Draco raised his hands to show his lack of ill intention. "No, no. I was just surprised," he quickly explained. Y/N chuckled and waved her hand towards him. "Relax, I'm only playing with you," she assured him. Her words piqued Draco's interest. He wiggled his eyebrows and licked his lips, staring suggestively into her eyes. "Well, I'd sure like to play with you," he husked. Y/N gasped loudly and swiftly removed the pillow from behind her back and chucked it at the blonde boy sitting across from her. "Draco!" she screeched. "Joking!" he mumbled. "Just joking...unless."

Y/N crossed her arms, and obnoxiously shook her head while clicking her tongue disapprovingly. Draco snickered before throwing the pillow back at her, making her giggle. His heart skipped a beat as he watched her eyes twinkle. She looked unreal to Draco, ethereal almost. However, he was torn from his trance by her continuing the story. "Anyways, as I was saying, my lovely mum had the shock of her life. I was surprised as well. I mean, I had just found out I was a bloody witch. Although I was much more delighted than she was. Come to think of it, she might've cried," Y/N said with a small frown. "Wow..." Draco muttered. "But what does she think of it now? What with you being at Hogwarts and all."

Y/N hummed to herself, recalling that last time she and her mother spoke about Hogwarts. "Well, I think she thinks it's a bit surreal, you know? She always imagined I'd graduate and go off to university to become a doctor or something, but here I am at a school for wizards and witches," she said while gesturing to the castle walls around her. Draco nodded although he was a bit confused. "She just doesn't understand, right?" he asked. Y/N pursed her lips. "I think she will, with time. Maybe I can introduce her to you and your family. Now that would be really fun," she suggested with a mischievous glint in her eye. Draco furrowed his eyebrows. "And why is that?" he questioned, staring at the giggling girl. "Just imagine me introducing you. I'd say, hey mum, this is my best friend and his wizard parents who dress like they're going to a funeral every single day. Oh, and they also own a mansion in the countryside because they're rolling in galleons!" Y/N bellowed, nearly falling over as she clutched her stomach, erupting in laughter.

Draco would've berated her for the slander towards his parents, but his mind was fixated on three words, "My best friend." He waited until Y/N ceased laughing before asking her, "I'm your best friend?" She looked at him as if he had grown a second head. "Well, duh, you're my only friend, Draco." The Slytherin did his best to hide his blush as he looked to the floor. "You're mine too," he mumbled. But Y/N didn't hear.

Draco sighed as he sat on his bed. He missed her. He wished so badly that she'd walk through his door. But she wouldn't, and he knew that. Slowly, he pushed himself off the green covered mattress and walked over to his wooden desk. A piece of parchment was already on top of it, so he took a seat, and he reached for his ink bottle and quill. His nimble fingers unscrewed the cap, and he dipped the point inside it, drenching it in black liquid. He'd written letters to Y/N many times, but every time he finished one, he'd get scared and chuck it into the bin. Draco knew he'd probably do the same tonight, but he wanted to try. So he pressed his quill to the paper and began.

"Dear Y/N, I hope you are doing well. I'm writing to you to give you my apologies. I should've known better than to confess my feelings for you at such a time. I really hope..." he stilled his hand, not knowing what to say next. His head was reeling as different thoughts and feelings flooded his brain, none of which he knew how to convey in words. She made him so dizzy. But, ever persistent, Draco started again.

"Dear Y/N, Are you doing well? I truly hope that you are. I write to you to tell you that I'm sorry for everything. I said and did so many foolish things that day, and if I could take all of them back, I swear, I would. I know I must've frightened you that day, but Y/N, I fear you don't know how much I miss you. I've never felt this empty before. But I know it's because you're not here. I need you..." Draco, in his frustrated haze, crossed out the last line and crumbled the parchment in his fist. He then tossed it across the room, watching as it hit the wall next to his door, and bounced on the foot of his brass coat rack. He stared at it, thinking about donning his coat and taking a walk around campus. But then, he noticed something underneath. He jumped to his feet and rushed over to the rack. Curious, he lifted his black coat off the hook to reveal a brown cardigan underneath. His chest tightened; it was Y/N's. She must've left it in his room after one of their study sessions. Come to think of it, it was probably from the night before Draco confessed.

Hesitantly, the boy reached out and touched his fingers to the cardigan. It was soft. He lifted it up and held it in his hands, letting his emotions settle. Then, he brought it to his nose, breathing in deeply. It still smelled of her: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon. Draco felt tears begin to gather in his eyes, but he hastily blinked them away. With care, he hung the cardigan back up and retreated to his desk. He got seated, pulled out a new sheet of parchment, and began writing for the third time that night.

------------

Dear Y/N,

I hope this letter finds you well. I'm writing to you to inform you that I've discovered your cardigan in my room. The brown one that is. I suppose you left it after our last study session. I can return it to you tomorrow morning at breakfast, or if you'd prefer, you can fetch it tonight. The current password to the Slytherin common room is Jobberknoll. Hopefully, you remember where my bedroom is, but should you have forgotten, it's at the very top of the stairway on your left. Please knock three times before entering.

There's no need to send an owl with your reply. Just make sure to come before 9:30. If you don't, I'll assume you wish to receive the cardigan at breakfast, in which case, I shall wait for you by the door.

Draco

Y/N clutched the parchment tightly in her hands. She had been scared half to death when an owl landed right beside her while she was sitting by the open windows. But now, she was more afraid of getting her cardigan back. She glanced around her room frantically, as if she'd find an answer to her dilemma upon the walls. Her eyes then drifted back to the parchment in her hands. She looked at where Draco had signed his name. Above it was a dark scribble as if he had scratched something out. What did he write there? It was probably just 'sincerely,' but what if it was something else. What if it was 'with love'? Y/N wondered. She closed her eyes; she needed to calm down. There was no way she'd be able to make a rational decision with such thoughts running through her brain.

But Y/N had nobody to consult, nobody to refer to. Ever since she'd pushed Draco away that day, she'd been alone. Her roommate spoke to her on occasion, but only about school-related things. Almost the entirety of her house had shunned her. And the whole school knew what she did, so making friends had proven to be difficult. But because of this, Y/N had been able to do a lot of thinking. Truthfully, she missed Draco. She hated herself for rejecting him that day. She hated herself because she liked him. The only reason she had rejected him was that she knew she wasn't ready for another relationship. And on top of that, she didn't think she deserved one. Draco wasn't someone she deserved, not in her mind.

But here she was, being forced to make a decision. Should she just wait until tomorrow, or should she go to his room? Her brain was telling her to wait until tomorrow; that way, she could take the cardigan, thank him, and be on her merry way. But her heart screamed at her to go to him. Go to him, confess to him, bring him back into her life. Y/N glanced at the clock; it was nearly nine. "Fuck," she muttered before pushing off the window seat; her loneliness had gotten the best of her.

She rushed towards her closet and flung the doors open. Her eyes scanned the array of clothing for a few moments before she pulled out her favorite pair of light grey sweatpants along with her pale green crewneck. She threw them on and tucked her wand into her pocket. Then she checked herself in the mirror. Her hair was already pulled back, and she had light mascara on. It was good enough, in her opinion, so she slipped on her shoes and turned her doorknob with a shaky hand.

--------

Draco was sitting in his armchair with a blue book in his hands when he heard three distinct knocks at his door. His breathing began to hasten; surely, it couldn't be... Only one way to find out. "Come in!" he called. The door swung open to reveal Y/N. She looked nervous as all hell but nevertheless, stepped inside his room and closed the door behind her. Neither of them said anything. They simply stared at one another. But luckily, Draco came to his senses. "Right, your cardigan," he said as he dropped his book and stood up. He grabbed the cardigan off the back of his chair and walked over to her, holding out the garment. "Here you are." Y/N took it into her hands and examined it. "Thank you, I thought it was lost forever," she told him with a smile. Draco faltered for a moment. He'd forgotten how sweet her voice was. But then he nodded, and the awkward silence returned. It hung in the air for a few moments before it was broken by the two of them simultaneously blurting out, "I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry, Y/N," Draco insisted while shifting his eyes to the floor. "I acted like a fool that day a-and I frightened you, and I made you so overwhelmed. I should've known better, and I am so sorry...I've missed you so much," he said, whispering his last few words. Eventually, he found the courage to look up, and when he did, he saw that Y/N was crying. His heart clenched, and he felt regret pool in his gut. But before he could apologize again, Y/N spoke up.

"I've missed you too, Draco. And I'm not sorry I rejected you that day, I'm sorry that I kicked you out of my life. I thought I was protecting myself because I just knew I would've gone back on my decision if I had let you stay. I liked you too, I still do, but I just wasn't ready. You're too good to be true. I don't deserve a second chance; I don't deserve you. But you didn't deserve to be shut out, and I really hope you can forgive—"

Y/N was cut off by Draco smashing his lips against hers. He held her face in his hands as she gasped, allowing him to sneak his tongue out and run it along her lower lip. She moaned into his mouth as he started to nibble. His hands traveled downwards until they settled on her hips. He pulled her closer and groaned when his hips touched hers. God, how he had missed this. Then, Y/N reached up and ran her hands through his hair, successfully messing it up. Draco knew he wanted more but pulled away from her lips. She breathed heavily and looked into his eyes, puzzled as to why he stopped.

"You're mine...right?" Draco asked anxiously. Y/N smiled and pulled him close for another soft kiss. "I'm yours," she whispered. Draco kissed her again, and she eagerly returned it. Hesitantly, Draco sneaked his hand underneath her shirt, merely letting it sit there against her hot skin as he slipped his tongue into her mouth again. Then, he began to slide his hand up her torso, all while paying attention to her reactions. She seemed to be kissing him harder as he gently ran his thumb along the underside of her breast. He took that as a sign he was doing good, so he placed his hand on top of it and squeezed. Y/N let out a loud moan and pulled away from the kiss. "Draco, please," she whined. He snickered as he studied her pleading face. "What do you need, princess?" he asked in a sultry voice. Y/N squirmed and continued to whine. Draco clicked his tongue. "Always so scared to tell me what you want. There's no need to be embarrassed. I'll give you whatever you want. I just need you to tell me," he reminded her gently. She bit her lip and stared at the floor before finally answering.

"I wanna have sex with you," she whispered. Her face was crimson. Draco felt his heart squeeze; she was too cute. He put his hand underneath her chin and tilted it upwards. A gentle kiss was planted on her lips. "I wanna have sex with you too, darling," he murmured. Y/N couldn't hide her smile as she swiftly took his hand and led him to the bed. Draco smirked and, with sneaky hands, pushed her onto the bed, making her squeal. "Draco!" she yelled with her back now pressed against the mattress. The Slytherin wasted no time; he jumped on top of her while mimicking a roar, causing Y/N to burst into laughter. Her laugh was music to his ears.

Draco tugged her shirt up and off her body, throwing it to the floor. His hands immediately traveled to her back where he unclasped her bra, throwing that away too. Draco felt his dick twitch in his pants upon seeing her nipples harden in the cold air. He leaned down and latched his lips onto one of them while twisting the other between his fingers. Y/N's gasp sent a shiver down his spine, and he sucked her even harder.

"Draco..." she moaned. Draco let go of her tits and sat up, admiring her flushed face. Then Y/N suddenly sat up and grasped the bottom of his shirt and proceeded to yank it off him. Draco only watched as she did this. Her hands then traveled to his pants. She unzipped him and pushed his waistband down, exposing his briefs. He helped her out by maneuvering himself off his knees so that he could kick his pants off.

Once the pants joined the rest of the clothes, Y/N reached for the top of his underwear. But before she could go any further, Draco stopped her. She looked at him, confused as to why he wouldn't want her to touch him. "Tonight is about you, darling. Lie back for me now," Draco instructed. Y/N's face turned red, but she did as she was told and lowered her body onto the bed. Draco's hands grasped her pants, and he slowly pulled them down, stopping to press kisses to her thighs as he went. They were both in only their underwear now, and he could see Y/N was getting impatient. "Speak princess, what do you want?" Draco asked. Y/N pressed her thighs together and rolled her hips a bit before she spoke. "Finger me, please," she begged. Draco smiled at her and immediately pressed his fingers to her pussy, still covered by her panties.

"So polite," he purred as he gently rubbed her clit through her underwear. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure. "That feel good, princess?" Draco asked. Y/N nodded and opened her mouth to reply, but a long moan quickly replaced the words on her tongue as Draco applied more pressure to her nub. He continued to swirl his finger around it for a couple minutes, then he slid a different finger past her panties and slowly pushed it inside, feeling her thighs clench as he did so. "So tight," he mumbled before leaning down and giving her a sweet kiss. The intrusion of another finger caused her to gasp into his mouth. Draco groaned and pressed down on her clit, making her hips jump.

"Did you miss this? Did you miss my fingers inside you and my kisses on your body?" he questioned as he thrusted into her. Y/N clenched her walls around his digits and nodded eagerly. "So much. So fucking much," she mewled. Draco added another finger and increased his pace. He noticed Y/N's breathing beginning to get quicker, and he knew she was close. So he finger-fucked her hole for a minute more before withdrawing his hand. Y/N cried out in frustration and glared at him angrily. "Why did you do that?" she whined.

But then, without warning, Draco lifted up her shirt and pressed his lips to her soft stomach, blowing a raspberry onto it. Y/N instantly screamed and wiggled violently underneath him. "STOP, STOP!" she shrieked, trying to get away as her giggles became uncontrollable. Eventually, Draco took mercy on her and ceased his torment. He leaned up to see Y/N was out of breath, and her hair was a mess. "Quit playing games and put your dick inside me, you twat," she ordered. Draco's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "If you say so," he muttered, taking his cock out of his underwear. Y/N's eyes widened, but before she could say or do anything, Draco slid all the way inside her, burying his dick in her pussy. "Ohhh, fuck," she moaned. Draco grunted as he adjusted to the tightness of her hole. He had the instinct to begin slamming into her, but he controlled his urges and allowed her body to adapt to him as he positioned his hands next to her head.

Y/N's walls clenched around him, and she bucked her hips. "Move, please," she pleaded softly. "As you wish," Draco said as he slowly pulled himself out and thrusted back in, setting a slow but consistent pace. Y/N let out quiet mewls as he moved in and out. Her legs found their way to his waist, and they quickly wrapped around it. This pulled him closer and forced his dick deeper inside her. "Fuck," Draco moaned as he leaned down for a kiss while continuing to thrust. Y/N hummed into his mouth and flicked her tongue against his. "Shit, you feel so good," she purred. Draco's cock twitched at her words, and he increased his pace. A harsh grunt escaped him as Y/N reached up and dug her nails into his back. "You're so gorgeous, Y/N," he breathed. "So goddamn gorgeous."

Suddenly, Draco's sensual thrusts were halted by Y/N calling his name. "Yes, darling?" he replied. "You can be rough, I don't mind," she told him gently. Draco smiled down at her and pressed quick kisses along her jaw. "I know, but I can do that another night. Right now," he angled his head so that his lips were by her ear, "I'm making love to you," he whispered, feeling her shudder beneath him.

Y/N's eyes grew soft, and she moved her hands to his face. "You're perfect," she mumbled before pulling his lips to hers, where they shared a passionate kiss. "So perfect." Draco started to thrust again, resuming his slower pace. The force of his cock rocked the couple back and forth on the plush pillows. But then, he had an idea.

He moved his hands from their spot beside Y/N's head, slid them underneath her back, and lifted her up. "Shit," she cursed as she was now on Draco's lap, his dick still buried deep inside her. Slowly, Draco raised her off him and turned her around so that her back was facing him. He then repositioned her hips above his cock and gently lowered her onto it. "Ohhh," she moaned as she once again became full. She was about to lift herself up and fuck herself on his dick, but Draco's hands stopped her. He pushed her legs wide and placed his hand over her pussy. This didn't please Y/N. She started to squirm and buck her hips forward, causing Draco to groan as she stimulated his cock. "Stay still, princess. I'll take care of you," he assured her. His fingers pressed against her heat and slowly spread the upper lips, exposing her clit. With his other hand, he touched his fingers to her nub and slowly began to circle it. Y/N's head fell back onto his shoulder, and a long, deep groan escaped her throat.

"Oh my god," she whimpered as her breathing became ragged. Draco's hands never stopped or stuttered, not even when Y/N's walls squeezed him tight. He just kept rubbing and rubbing; her soft pants sounded like heaven to him. Suddenly, Y/N's thighs began to tense. "Draco, fuck, I'm close," she muttered. Draco turned his head and once again hovered his lips next to her ear. "Cum on me. Cum with me buried inside you," he ordered. Y/N gasped and rolled her head on his shoulder. He could tell she was almost there. "Oh, god. Fuck, fuck, fuck, just a little more," she begged.

Draco kept circling her clit until finally, she inhaled sharply, and her walls clenched him hard. His finger didn't stop; it continued to rub her throughout her high. It only ceased when Draco felt her body jolt from overstimulation. He then pushed her forward onto her hands and knees and began pounding into her, chasing his own climax. The sounds of skin slapping combined with the tightness of Y/N's pussy lit a fire in Draco's abdomen, and soon, he was pushed over the edge. "Cumming," he warned her before he released inside Y/N with a deep groan. The couple remained in that position for a good minute, breathing heavily. Then Draco pulled himself out and laughed as Y/N immediately collapsed face-first onto his bed. He gently flipped her over and kissed her cheek. "You alright, darling?" he asked. She smiled and turned to him. Then, without thinking, she blurted, "I think I love you." Immediately, Y/N slapped her hand over her mouth. But Draco only grinned and said, "I love you too, Y/N."

She lowered her hand and averted her eyes as blush filled her cheeks. "Draco, are we..." she trailed off, looking apprehensive. "Boyfriend and girlfriend?" he asked. Y/N nodded. "I'd love to be your boyfriend, darling," he said sweetly. In less than a second, Draco was attacked by a forceful hug from Y/N. He wrapped his arms around her still naked body and held her close, breathing in her scent: apples, hazelnut, and cinnamon.

"Thank you for not giving up on me," she said softly. "I don't know what I would've done with myself if you had just stopped caring one day," Y/N confessed. Draco gently pulled away from the hug and cradled his girlfriend's face in his hands. "I never  would've stopped caring. Y/N you were all I thought about," he assured her. He watched as her tears began to fall from her eyes. "Don't cry, sweetheart, I'm here now; I've got you. There's no need to cry," he said sweetly, trying to comfort her. But Y/N kept on crying, so he dragged a blanket over his lap and pulled her on top of it. "Look at me, darling," he instructed lightly. She rubbed her tears away with her arm and looked into Draco's eyes.

"I love you. I love you so much. Do not waste your tears on the mistakes of the past. All that matters is that I've got you, and you've got me. Alright?" Y/N continued to wipe her tears and nodded. "Alright. I love you too," she replied.

Draco pressed a quick kiss to her forehead, slid her off his lap, and stood up from the bed. He grabbed some tissues and cleaned himself off before doing the same for Y/N. Then he pulled on his underwear and tossed Y/N hers. As she was getting dressed, Draco strode over to his armchair. In the seat of it sat a small blue book. He picked it up and took it with him as he went back to bed. Y/N was already under the covers; she looked at him quizzically when she noticed the object in his hand. Her mouth opened to speak, but Draco quickly shushed her. He slid under the covers and cozied up next to Y/N. Then, he cracked open the book, cleared his throat, and began to read.

"There was once a kindly old wizard who used his magic generously and wisely for the benefit of his neighbours. Rather than reveal the true source of his power, he pretended that his potions, charms and antidotes sprang ready-made from the little cauldron he called his lucky cooking pot."

The End

Taglist: @beiahadid @pastelpuffbar @cutie1365 @dracoxmgg @lumlfy @sambucky8 @emilianamason @orangecrayon @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @hustlinhufflepuff @goddessofgames @dracocanslytherin8 @superbturtlemakerathlete @raplinethereal @mllzhxrrz44 @dixiethemorab24 @prongsandprancer @azkabanlexi

[wizardofrozz]

Welcome to Westview!

Warnings: swearing

A/N: Thank you all for sharing your opinions and love for this story ❤ 

Chapter 3

Clint POV

I kicked my boots off and rolled over the back of the couch; unfortunately, I kept rolling and landed on my face in front of the couch.

           “Will you ever learn?” Nat laughed. I lifted my head, finding her leaning against the doorway into the kitchen with a smirk on her lips.

           “No,” I deadpanned. Nat barked out a laugh, pushing off the doorframe, stepping over me to plop onto the couch.

           “Dinner’s going to be cold by the time you’re done pouting,” Nat stated. I groaned into the carpet but pushed myself to my hands and knees; I went to stand up, but a weight settled on my back, stopping me. Nat’s arms snaked around my neck, her legs wrapping around my waist as she clung to my back, giggling softly.

           “Can I help you?” I snorted.

           “Free ride,” Nat giggled. I shook my head, hiding the smile spreading across my face as I got to my feet; I grabbed the back of her knees, holding her in place. I spun in circles around the living room, loving how Nat nuzzled into my neck, shrieking with every spin before bursting into a fit of laughter. By the time we made it to the kitchen, we were both out of breath from laughing; I backed up to the counter, sitting her on the edge. She kept her arms loosely around my neck as I turned around, not moving from between her knees.

           “How was your ride, m’lady?” I quipped.

           “It was fun, birdie,” she snarked with a smirk.

           “Shit head,” I laughed, kissing her nose.

           “Give me the real thing,” she snapped, pulling my head closer. I chuckled softly but complied, connecting our lips in a searing kiss; Nat hummed happily, running her tongue along my lower lip.

           “Oh no, I want to eat,” I laughed, pulling away from the kiss.

           “You’re no fun,” she whined, kicking her legs like a child.

           “I’m loads of fun, but I’m also starving,” I explained, kissing her nose again. Nat grunted but let go of my neck, bracing herself on her hands, watching me. I moved around the kitchen, getting plates ready for us; I leaned in for a kiss as I passed her, whispering a ‘love you’ against her lips.

           “Thank you,” she said with a smile when I set her plate on the counter next to her.

           “Of course, sweetheart,” I replied, helping her off the counter.

***

After eating dinner and changing out of my grease-covered clothes, I lounged on the couch; one leg kicked up on the cushion and one arm resting on the back of the couch as I read through the paper. Nat crawled into my lip, leaning her back against my chest, her feet resting on the coffee table, flipping through a magazine; I rested my cheek against her head, my eyes scanning the tiny black and white letters. Nat hummed along to ‘Hey, Good Lookin’ that was playing in the background, filling the otherwise quiet room with her soft noises, making my heart swell. The sudden pounding on the door made us both tense; I groaned deep in my chest, closing my eyes.

           “Can’t we pretend we aren’t home?” I whispered into her hair.

           “Natasha! I know you are home!” Agnes yelled through the door. “I came to drop off that recipe for you.”

           “Apparently not,” Nat sighed. I quickly wrapped my free arm around her torso, holding her against my chest.

           “Don’t go; you’re warm,” I whispered against her ear.

           “Clint,” she giggled, shaking her head. I reluctantly let her go, throwing my head back against the arm of the couch, groaning loudly. “Stop it, you baby.”

           “No,” I grumbled, dropping the paper on my chest.

           “Hi, Agnes!” Nat chirped as she opened the door.

           “Hi dear!” Agnes greeted.

           “Come in,” Nat offered; I heard the door creak open farther. I swallowed a disgruntled groan and kept my eyes closed, highly irritated that Agnes interrupted the quiet evening.

           “I have that recipe for you,” Agnes stated, her voice getting closer. “Hello, Clint.”

           “Agnes,” I grumbled, lifting my head enough to shoot her a tight smile, my eyes still closed.

           “He’s grumpy today,” Nat whispered.

           “Yes, I am,” I sneered. I lifted my head, opening my eyes to glare in Agnes’ direction, but she was facing Nat. Agnes turned towards me again, her eyes widening slightly as her gaze quickly flicked over me. I glanced down at myself, noticing that my shirt was hiked up, revealing a strip of skin, my pants rumpled from Nat moving around, trying to get comfortable, and I could guess my hair was sticking up in random directions from running my hand through it.

           “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Agnes mumbled, looking at her feet. I opened my mouth to confirm the assumption that she came too, but Nat shot me a deadly look, so I clamped my jaw shut.

           “We weren’t doing what you think,” Nat chuckled.

           “It’s none of my business,” Agnes snorted, turning back to Nat.

           “Trust me, if we were, I wouldn’t have opened the door,” Nat assured, smirking.

           “Good to know,” Agnes huffed, looking relieved.

           “Did you stop for anything else?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.

           “Well, I did want to ask about the new addition to the neighborhood,” Agnes confessed, looking at Nat. I rolled my eyes, knocking my head against the side of the couch a few times; I caught Nat trying to stifle a laugh.

           “What about them?” Nat wondered, smiling slightly.

           “What do you know about them?” Agnes probed, glancing at me.

           “We’ve been friends with (Y/N) and Loki for a few years now. I’m closer with Wanda, (Y/N), and Bucky, so I can’t say I know Loki as well. Clint, you’re closer with Steve, Vision, and Loki. What’s Loki like?” Nat shifted her gaze to me; I swallowed an irritated sigh and plastered a fake smile on my face.

           “Loki’s a nice guy. He’s pretty good at his job and loves his wife very much. He’s better friends with Vision, though, so if you want more information, you’d have to ask him,” I lied, continuing to smile. I wasn’t going to gossip with our nosey neighbor about my buddy; Agnes could find out for herself. Nat knew I was lying and shot me a dirty look over Agnes’ shoulder.

           “And (Y/N)?” Agnes asked, turning to Nat. The smile fell from my face, and I stuck my tongue out at Agnes, rolling my eyes, picking up the paper again.

           “She’s closer with Wanda and Bucky, honestly,” Nat offered. I faked choking on my spit to hide the snort threatening to burst my lips; I pounded on my chest a few times to sell it.

           “Hm, well, I told her to come along to the meeting with Dottie we have coming up, so I’ll do some recon.” Agnes glanced at me, thinking I didn’t notice because I was reading the paper. “There’s something different about that couple,” she whispered to Nat.

           “I haven’t noticed anything,” Nat defended, trying to hide her irritation.

           “It’s probably me being overprotective of my neighborhood,” Agnes laughed, smacking Nat’s arm gently.

           “Of course, I can’t blame you,” Nat replied, smiling tightly.

           “Well, I should let you two get back to your evening,” Agnes sighed. Nat shot me a look before I could even open my mouth, and I tried to hide the smile pulling at my lips.

           “Thank you again for the recipe. I’m sure Clint will appreciate it,” Nat said, looking at me again.

           “Yes, thank you, Agnes,” I piped up, lifting my gaze from the paper.

           “It was no trouble,” she said with a smile. Nat led her to the door, making small talk as she opened the door.

           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Nat stated.

           “See you tomorrow, dear,” Agnes called. Nat shut the door a few seconds later, pressing her back to it; I threw my head back, letting out a loud, frustrated shout.

           “Why do you talk to her!” I shouted, rubbing the bridge of my nose.

           “Clint, she is not that bad,” Nat snapped, smacking my arm as she walked around the couch.

           “Yes, she is,” I mumbled. “I already know she visited (Y/N) and Loki, then went to bother Bucky and Steve, came here, and I know she’s going to harass Wanda and Vision about the information she got.” I huffed out an irritated sigh, closing my eyes. “Nosey pain in the ass,” I muttered.

           “Clint!” Nat scolded, hitting my leg harder.

           “You know I don’t like her,” I snapped back.

           “Really, it’s not obvious at all,” Nat deadpanned. I shrugged, lifting my head to continue reading the paper; Nat huffed in irritation as she dropped onto the opposite end of the couch. I glanced over the top of my paper, sighing at Nat’s angry expression; I dropped the newspaper in my lap, sighing again.

           “Natasha,” I tried.

           “No, you were an ass,” she snapped.

           “I’m sorry, I know she’s your friend,” I apologized.

           “Really, Clint? I don’t care because she’s an acquaintance. I care because if you piss her off, we may as well move!” she snapped again.

           “You’re worried about our reputation?” I snorted.

           “It’ll be pretty miserable if the rest of the town hates us,” Nat mumbled.

           “We have Bucky, Steve, Wanda, Vision, (Y/N), and Loki,” I reminded her.

           “That’s six people. If everyone else hates us because we pissed her off, our lives will be hell. Trust me,” Nat explained.

           “Fine, I’ll try to do better,” I sighed.

           “Thank you,” Nat whispered, a smile spreading across her face. I shook my head, going back to reading; Nat picked up her magazine again but stayed on the other side of the couch. After a few minutes, I glanced over the paper again, watching Nat read, dragging her thumb against the curve of her bottom lip. I licked my lips, tossing the paper onto the coffee table, pulled my leg closer, and reached for her ankle closest to me. “Clint!” she shouted. I dragged her across the couch, stretching her out on her back, and crawled over her, caging her under me.

           “Hey, darling,” I chuckled, trailing soft kissing along her jaw.

           “What are you doing,” she giggled, running her hands through my hair.

           “You looked too beautiful sitting over there. I couldn’t resist,” I mumbled against her neck. I moved my way up her jaw again, finally slanting our lips together, running my tongue against her lips.

           “Mm, let’s take this upstairs,” she giggled against my mouth.

           “As you wish,” I whispered. I snaked an arm under her back and gripped her thigh with my other hand, lifting her off the couch easily, pushing a surprised yelp from her. I laughed against her shoulder as I wrapped her legs around my waist, connecting our lips again. I carried her across the room. Nat giggled into the kiss as I hurried up the steps.

Chapter 4 | Series Masterlist 

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld @imagine-yourself-happy @alluringshawn @lovelokiqueen @neenieweenie @somegeekychic @shadowolf993​

[j-pankratz]

The Slumber that Creeps to Me

Geraskefer. 7208 Words. Rated T.  Jaskier pulls an extreme all-nighter (read: 60+ hours) to finish a paper he procrastinated on, and finds at the end of it that sleep does not come as easily as he’d hoped. Tags for: Sleep Deprivation, Self Destruction/Lack of Self Care, Hallucinations, Nightmares, Overstimulation, Hurt/Comfort, Whumping the Bard, very loving partners, and a happy ending. <3 AO3 link in the reblog!

As with most disasters spurned by his own cockiness, Jaskier felt as thought that all in all, the situation could have been worse.

The idea to have Geralt and Yennefer spend the spring holiday break at Oxenfurt was, in his defense, ingenious. His students weren’t around, the weather was gorgeous, they all had varying degrees of business in the city, and they could fuck each other senseless at any hour of the day. In a bed. A nice one, provided he was a legitimate professor, now. Well, visiting. Well, it was complicated. But they were his rooms, and that’s what mattered.

When Jaskier gotten the prestigious offer to write the season’s main article for the Continent’s most respected Bardic Journal, he’d just sort of figured he’d… fit it in, somewhere. He had seventeen months, which was plenty enough for him. Then he’d just work with the editors, and have a centerfold piece. It was an honor. He was excited about it! He’d meant to get to it sooner, but decided the summer before that he’d devote the winter to it. But… he’d… he’d been distracted. It wasn’t often the entire family gathered at Kaer Morhen. So, he thought, he’d do it later.

But the first few weeks after winter were, of course, spent with Geralt. And the week after that, a trip to the coast, where he’d played a festival and met up with Ciri, who was becoming an amateur critic herself. And then by pure, absolute happenstance, after 3 more weeks of travel he happened to end up at an inn that he definitely hadn’t heard Yennefer was staying at. So that more time gone. And then he’d arrived in Oxenfurt, and he’d really meant to get to work on it, but there was so much to prepare for! He wanted things to be right for them.

And then Yennefer and Geralt had actually arrived, and the idea of anything possibly being more important than their presence flew his mind.

And now, here he was. If he wanted to get it in on time (unfortunately, that wasn’t a suggestion in this case, more of an actual, terrifying requirement,) he’d need to submit it in… gods above, less than three days. 60 hours, if he was doing the math.

There was no word limit, nor a minimum. But, ever the maximalist, he knew it was going to be… long, if he was going to do it right. They’d edit it down, but it was the focal point of the journal, they’d been leading up to it for ages now. Ahh. Well. There was only one thing for it, he supposed.

“I’m working through the night on my paper!” He’d announced that morning, sitting straight up in bed, jostling his sleepy lovers. “No one bother me! I will be at the dining table until further notice!” He swung himself out of bed and made for the door.

“Pants,” his lovers chorused together.

“Right!” he'd said, and marched back into the room.

He’d pulled all-nighters in his youth. In fact, he couldn’t count the times he’d worked through the night, deposited a composition or essay on his professor’s desk with some polite conversation and maybe a wink, and then promptly fallen asleep during the lecture itself. Just a 15-minute power nap, really! Then he’d be back up and at it again, working through another night just to sleep through the weekend. He’d done it before, he could do it again.

Well, it’d been 25 years ago, but that didn’t change much, did it? He still felt spry, agile, hearty— hell, he’d spent the better part of the last twenty odd years chasing after a Witcher, and later an additional princess and mage— surely he should be in better health now!

This was completely accomplishable. Admittedly, he could have written this sooner… but he hadn’t, and here he was.

Geralt and Yennefer both set out early on different errands, leaving the bard to some peace and quiet. Relatively.

He spread his work and references out before him. 7 books, 4 pamphlets, his favorite quills, a hundred fresh pieces of parchments, his lute at his knee. “Alright,” he said aloud to his empty Oxenfurt apartment, “Just sit down and write the damn thing. Sitting part, definitely done. Writing next. Just… write.”

He stared at the page.

“No! No, no, do not be impossible about this. Just start the thing.”

The page stared back.

“Ah, blast,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. This was fine. Just… do the awful, disgusting part of beginning, and then he’d be off. The sooner he started, the sooner he’d finish, after all! He took a breath, and put his pen to paper.

xx

Yennefer returned a few hours later, a book and small parcel in hand. Jaskier looked up to see her sweep through the room, a commanding presence, though she didn’t acknowledge him yet. A few waves of her hands and a pot of tea was put on to boil, her hair was put in a bun, and three mugs were floating down from a shelf.

“Lovely to see you too,” he smiled as Yennefer poked through the tea collection. He could practically hear her fond eye roll. She neatly plucked two from one box and looked back at him in question. “Ah… peppermint, if we’ve got it?” and she turned back to the cupboard grab it.

“Any progress?” She finally asked.

“A bit, actually!” Jaskier said cheerfully. It didn’t look like much, but he’d done half a page with almost no errors, and he’d made plenty of notes in the margins of the books he’d need later. It was better than he’d hoped it’d be going by this point, at least. He was kicking academia’s ass. Or, he would be.

The kettle whistled and Yennefer poured the tea, bobbing all three of the tea bags up and down as they steeped. He watched her lean against the counter, casual, relaxed, gorgeous, before realizing she was staring back at him. “Um! Yes, no, definitely good. Got a lot of… those words, you know, they are definitely here. Looking very sexy. The words! The writing is looking… very sexy, very curvy… letters. Sensuous words, you know.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sensuous words.”

“Yeah, yes. Like… contemporaneous… and… iguana.”

“Iguana.” She let out a little huff of a laugh and something in Jaskier’s chest tightened and loosened in quick succession. And in a moment she was there, sliding him a large mug with the carving of a rather playful looking bear on one side, batting at a butterfly.

“Oh! My favorite. Thank you, thank you.”

“Mmm,” she said before waving a hand to cool down their tea a bit. She took a seat opposite him, scanning an eye over the table. “Think you’ll be done by tonight?”

Jaskier laughed. “Darling, I’ll be lucky to be done by tomorrow morning.”

“You’re planning to stay up all night, bard?”

“Unfortunately.” He took a sip. “Should be done by tomorrow afternoon, if I keep steady at it.”

“After tea, of course.”

“Of course.”

Yennefer stretched out a bit, kicking her feet onto Jaskier’s lap and rolling her neck. They sat there a moment, sipping, pausing, drinking in each other. There was something nice about taking a moment of stillness with someone just as frenetic as he was, someone who was usually just as itching for something to do, even if she went about it differently. The grace of choosing stillness, he thought, was not something to ignore.

Yennefer reached the end of her mug and tapped its ceramic walls lightly.

“What’s next for you?”

“I have to refresh my potion stock, so I’ll be at the market for supplies. You sure you don’t want to take a break and join?”

Rat’s ass. He fucking loved the Oxenfurt markets. “I’m afraid I can’t. Academia calls.”

“Who does it call for, exactly? What’s that I hear…” She cocked her head and listened intently. “Who is it calling for… is that… V… Val… Valdo?” Jaskier hefted her feet off of his lap in protest, and she laughed. He plucked his quill from its stopper, and went back to hovering over his paper. Introduction mostly accomplished, now he had to really lead in to his point, give some proper context. He flipped through a book beside him.

Yennefer rose smoothly from the table and went to move her mug to the sink. “When Geralt gets in, tell him I need toadflax and bluebells from him? Might as well put him to use.”

Jaskier flipped through the pages, thumbing through for a note he’d sworn he’d made ages ago, when he belatedly tried to register his mage’s words. He could have his fun, too.

“Blue…Yennefer, you want me to tell Geralt that you need blue balls from him?”

“Bells! Bells, you absolute child!” she said. “Honestly. Blue balls? Really, Jaskier?” He was giggling. “I don’t need to ask to give either of you blue balls.”

“Exactly, Yennefer, you provide that service for us anyway, free of charge!” A balled-up napkin hit him in the head and he laughed joyfully.

“I can’t stand you. I’m leaving, you’ll never see me again.”

Jaskier looked up through his grin and met her twinkling, happy eyes. “Tonight then?”

“Tonight,” she agreed, and left with a quick ruffle of his hair.

xx

“Still working?” Geralt said as greeting later in the afternoon. The desk was neater than Jaskier expected it to be this far in, only a few books open, dog eared and marked in colored ink. He’d written a page and a half since Yennefer left, and it was good, it was, but he’d need to go back and make edits later. His long empty mug of tea sat far across him.

“Mm,” he agreed, continuing to write. “Ah, Yennefer came through earlier,” giving a gesture to the waiting mug of tea on the counter. Geralt made his way over to the mug, and gave it a small igni to warm it. He smiled fondly down at the drink—what a terribly lovely sight he was. Warm here, and safe. Couldn’t it be like this always? The three of them here, comfortable and happy? No, he supposed, but gods how he wanted it.

“She’s at the market now,” Jaskier continued, “wanted me to ask you about...” He lifted his pen and squinted. “Ah, toadflax and bluebells.” He looked up at Geralt, smiling. “Blue balls,” they said together, sporting matching shit-eating grins, Geralt’s albeit much smaller. “I made the same joke myself,” Jaskier added.

Geralt snorted. “How’d she take that?”

“Oh, as well as you’d hope. We’ll never see her again, of course.” He turned back to his work, reading over the last paragraph. He could feel Geralt approach to stand behind him, and while he’d normally shoo his witcher off, he was too deep in concentration to bother.

How long was too long to linger on the progression of oral storytelling to bardship? It’s not like he could ignore it, (Geralt’s hand came to grip his shoulder, a thumb rubbing against it tenderly) as it was a crucial tenant of the argument— but there was plenty to be said for assuming the literacy and foreknowledge of the reader. (He leaned in to get a closer look at Jaskier’s page, the soft warmth of the tea in his other hand bouncing off his chest) But this was to be in a journal often referenced by first years, and he knew how much he would have loved a paper that had everything all in one—

“How’s it going?” Geralt asked softly in his ear.

Jaskier waved a hand over the mess before him. “You know. It’s fine, I’m just not sure at what point I’m lingering on points to excess.”

“Mm,” Geralt hummed understandingly. “Tell the story. Trust your gut.” He gave Jaskier a nuzzle and light kiss against his cheek before taking up the empty mug off the table and walking off further into the apartment.

“I always do!” Jaskier called back. Mm, if only this were as simple as telling a story. Well…Oh—if he spent this paragraph referencing the progression it would end up taking up more room, be a run of the mill lead-in, but if he wrote the actual history as a short story itself, now there was an idea, he could make his point and give the context. Oh, fuck, brilliant—

“Back soon,” Geralt was saying as the front door slipped shut, but the bard was too lost in his work to do more than give a small nod of his head.

The sun was falling, making a graceful bow into the horizon. Warm light spread out over the streets of Oxenfurt like the last pushes of tide, ebbing, and flowing, and sinking back into night.

“Ah, fuck,” Jaskier muttered, crossing out a spelling error with a snarl.

His shoulders ached, and his lower back was going to be the death of him. He was on page 7. All he could see was the work ahead of him, winding off ad infinitum. If he didn’t pick up the pace, he might have to go 60 hours straight—he shivered. Not ideal. He took a breath, stood up and stretched a bit, his muscles groaning in thanks. A quick bathroom break later and he was sliding back into his chair, still warm, his papers grinning up at him, sardonic.

He’d take a meal break at 10 pages, he told himself.

He stood to stretch and his head swam. Well. Plenty of reason to stay seated, he supposed.

Geralt and Yennefer returned at 12 and a half pages. He turned his head in greeting, and when he looked back he got the first real look at the table in hours—it was a disaster, crumbled pieces of parchment, empty quills, and little notes strewn everywhere. Some books propped open, the pile of parchment looking more like a mountain slope, an empty glass from when he’d chugged water hours ago.

His loves were clearly a few drinks deep as they came through the door, and completely unmarred by the woes of academia. Bastards, honestly.

“Hi, hello, hope you had a good evening, I—”

“Come to bed,” Yennefer said, suddenly right behind him. Two small but firm hands came to his shoulders, rubbing deeply.

“Ah! Oh, fuck—oh, yes, darling, right there—”

Geralt came to his other side, tipping his head up for a kiss, which he moaned into. His witcher’s tongue was soft, pleading, tempting him—his mage’s hands pushing almost painfully against his aching muscles. He wanted to cry, it was so good. It was so different than the last… however many hours it had been that he had been sitting here. Geralt pulled away, and Yennefer’s hands came to rest as well.

“So?” Geralt asked, his voice deep and velvety. “Bed?”

“I…” gods, who had he become? “I can’t. I want to, I just—”

Yennefer placed a kiss to the top of his head. “It’s fine,” she said, and he knew it was, but he hated denying them something they all wanted. “Have you eaten?”

Jaskier frowned. “Fuck. Not really.”

Geralt sighed and went to the pantry. “You’re getting a sandwich,” he grumbled.

“Ooo, Geralt, dear heart, would you heat it up? Use some of your,” he wiggled his fingers “your witchery magic?”

Geralt turned and glared. “You’re getting a sandwich.”

“He’s so mean to me,” Jaskier muttered to Yennefer, “I can’t believe he’s so mean to me.”

His mage snorted a laugh into his hair. “You’re really staying up all night, then?” She waved a hand and the curtains around the room swept shut, and his lantern began to burn steadily.

“Looks like it,” he sighed. Geralt retuned a moment later, plated warm sandwich and glass of water in hand.

“Fuck. Thank you.” He took it and took a bite, suddenly ravenous. He looked up at both of them, staring down in fond amusement. “Fank—” he swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. “Thank you both, truly. I’ll be up a bit. If you need something, call, yes?”

They rolled their eyes. “He tells us to call if we need anything,” Yennefer muttered. “Don’t get into any trouble,” she said, and with a peck on the cheek from both of them, they disappeared into the bedroom.

He looked back at his work.

Okay. 12 ½ pages in. He could do this.

x

At 15 pages, he felt ravenous again, and made a second sandwich. Not as good as Geralt’s. Geralt’s sandwiches weren’t even that good, but they were made by Geralt, which added a certain kick, a novelty he adored.

He drank another glass of water and shook his head. Back to work.

At 17 pages, sometimes the world swam before him. He gripped the edge of the table. Fuck.

He was so tired. 23 pages. He kept writing.

It was terrible. The whole paper was a mess. Nothing made sense and people were going to laugh at him. 25 pages.

He heard a sound. Was that Geralt rising for the bathroom? Was it an intruder? Light crept in through the window. 27 pages.

There was a ringing in his ear. His writing was getting increasingly larger. 27 ½ pages.

Geralt gave him a soft nuzzle to the top of his head before padding through to the kitchen. Jaskier’s heart ached. His bones ached. Writing was hard but right then it felt impossible. 27 ¾ pages.

Geralt lingered, and Jaskier felt his nose twitch. He tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for him to leave. He couldn’t have any distractions right now. He shut his eyes tight until he heard the bedroom door close once more.

Yennefer entered hours later, sweeping the curtains over with a flick of her hand. Bright light flooded the room, painting the desk in all its full, disgustingly messy glory. “Well—”

“Could you ask next time?!” Jaskier snapped. “Some of us need consistency to concentrate!”

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, and they stared at each other. Some part of him wanted to slap himself but the rest was just so irritated. Who’d she think she was, anyway?

After a moment, the mage turned and left with a flick of her hand to sweep the curtains shut again.

“Headed out,” Geralt said at 30 pages. “Contract.”

“Good,” Jaskier muttered. “I mean. Good that you’re—fuck. Whatever.”

Geralt stared. “You need rest. It’s been more than 24 hours.”

“I need to fucking finish.”

“Yen said—”

“I’m sure she did,” Jaskier muttered, driving his heels into his eyes. Gods, his eyes burned. Silence hung.

“She portaled out this morning.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Great. Love that. I’m a fucking disaster, thank you for the reminder, Geralt.” He waved toward the door. “Don’t you have a contract?”

He turned back to his papers, shifting around to look for page 11, and didn’t think about how long it took before Geralt left the apartment.

His hand was shaking but he was at 34 pages. He still had so much to say. Fuck. But he was in it now.

He scarfed down some soup that was mostly broth at some point, and he’d under-salted it, but it was something. His eyes kept going blurry; traitorous things.

The bear on his mug was plotting his downfall.

38 pages and Jaskier felt like the gods themselves had gifted him with the knowledge he now bestowed onto meager commoners. He was a genius.

At 43 pages, he had stopped to lay out the entire essay on the ground, so he could see it all. The words sometimes swam before him, and he had trouble remembering what he was meant to say next. Once, he looked up, confused as to where he was. And then, at 44 pages, the guilt of snapping at his dearest loves, the weight of this behemoth paper he wasn’t even sure he could finish, and his own self-doubt crept in and seized him up, leaving him breathless and in tears for… awhile. Everything hurt. He had to keep going.

At 48 pages, he saw a griffon fly through his window, and he named it Kalvin. He turned whatever color Jaskier wanted him to turn, which was very considerate of him. Kalvin was his only friend now, and with a little convincing, might become his editor, too.

At 55 pages his chest seized, and it was hard to breathe for a moment. He closed his eyes but—no, no, couldn’t do that. If he fell asleep now, he’d never finish in time. He tried to relax, got some water, leaned against the counter. Everything was a mess.

He sat back on the floor, his work around him. Keep going.

“I don’t think there’s anything about anything that I have to be doing right now. Kalvin, you’ve… you’ve got to understand, this could be my finest work! It’s good. It’s pretty good here in… in this part, here. In that other part it’s just okay, but that’s why you come in with your big claws and you’re gonna. Rip up the bad parts. Don’t rip up the good parts. Right? Yeah. Do you think they’ve forgotten about me by now?”

He looked down. 57 pages. Took a long blink.

“Yeah,” he said softly, “That’s fair.

He had to write two extra pages so that he could skirt around referencing Valdo Marx’s work as anything other than a contradictory point. Maybe it would have been fun to use his own writing against him but he didn’t want to give the satisfaction of being referenced positively in a centerfold piece.

He lost the essay.

“Fuck—oh, gods, where did—”

He turned around, looked down. Oh, there it was.

“Thank fuck.”

The curtains were still closed and the charmed lantern was still burning, but Jaskier knew it was night by the time he reached 63 pages and Geralt came in.

Jaskier looked up from his spot kneeling on the floor. Geralt looked fine. He was a little dirty. There were some gushy bits. Probably blood. He was tired. Or just mad. Maybe he hated Jaskier.

“You’re still—?!” Geralt asked, looking at Jaskier like he’d just said a griffon named Kalvin had flown in the window earlier and now they were friends.

“I met a griffon,” Jaskier heard himself say. Geralt stared. “We’re friends now.”

“…You need to fucking sleep.”

“No.” Jaskier went back to the margin he’d devoted to drawing circles in. “Sorry ‘bout earlier.”

Geralt sighed. He might have talked but Jaskier didn’t hear, just kept writing.

“How often has that been happening?” he heard Geralt ask.

“What happening?”

“Where you fall asleep for a moment.”

“I haven’t! Fallen asleep.”

“Fuck,” Geralt said. He looked very nice, except for the goop all over him. Well. Even that wasn’t so bad, when the underneath bits were Geralt. His Geralt. Looked so warm, so strong, so able to carry him.

“Later,” Jaskier replied, and went back to his words. The familiar pop of a portal sounded in the bedroom. Their eyes lingered on the direction it came from, but Yennefer didn’t open the door. They looked at each other, and then back at the door which remained very much shut. “She’s mad.”

“Yep.”

“At me.”

“Yep.”

There was a pause. “Are you covered in blood?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Oh.”

“Not mine.”

“That,” he said pointing to the Witcher, “is good.”

“Mmm.”

“Sticky though.”

“Definitely sticky.”

Yennefer came out of the doorway, and Jaskier blinked. When he opened his eyes again she was much closer than she’d been and was in the middle of talking. Magic, he assumed.

“—yourself very lucky, bard.”

“Yeahh,” he said. “Sorry. ‘Bout… Sorry.”

She huffed and crossed her arms. There was a look in her face. Eyes? And her mouth. It was hard to name. Words were hard, when they weren’t the words he desperately needed to write.

“—for a while,” Geralt was saying. “Jaskier. How close are you to finishing.”

“Soon!” Jaskier said. “Soon! Soon. Due… 1pm tomorrow. What time is it?”

“10pm.”

“Fuck. Psshhh. I can… I can do it.” He looked up at Yennefer. “Sorry. Really. I… I’m just tired,” he admitted. “Shouldn’t have snapped. Not fair to you.”

Yennefer stood there, arms folded, emanating some emotion Jaskier had lost the concept of around page 41. Geralt walked further into the apartment, into the bedroom. Oh right. Blood armor. Ick.

He went back to writing and tried to ignore the desire to cry again, and then suddenly Yennefer’s shoes were in his line of vision.

“Let me read it,” she said.

“Oh.”

They stared at one another. She had such a pretty face. He might have been smiling. She rolled her eyes and then came to sit next to him. She quickly found the first page and began.

Halfway through it, he spilled ink on the bottom half of page 64, and wept. Yennefer gave him an attempt at a comforting pat on the back.

Yennefer had read the pages and risen; “It’s good. You need edits, but it’s somehow decent. Good. Whatever. A little… loose, toward the end, though,” made herself a cup of tea, and entered the bedroom.

Either a few moments, or 20 minutes later, Geralt emerged.

“What are you at now?”

“69 pages.”

“Nice,” Geralt said.

“Ha. Yeahhh,” Jaskier agreed.

“That’s not what I—” Geralt sighed the sigh that meant his face was going all pinch-y. “Close to the end?”

“Mmm. What is the end, really?” Geralt made a different pinch-y face. “Soon.”

“Come to bed tonight, Jaskier.”

“I’ll try,” he said. He blinked, and Geralt was gone.

There are a lot of words in an essay that are very hard to spell.

Jaskier ate the rest of a loaf of bread.

For a while, he swore he walked the streets of Oxenfurt while still warm in his professorial housing.

Kalvin’s accent changed three times and at one point he was on fire.

85 pages.

Geralt woke first, as always; There he was! That was his love. So much of his heart.

With shaking hands, Jaskier had brought himself up to sit in his chair, and sat staring down at his work. He looked up at Geralt with a lopsided grin. “I did it,” he said weakly.

“Need help putting it together?”

The tears fell so quickly he didn’t realize it was happening. “Really?”

Geralt sighed softly and knelt down, organizing the papers.

Yennefer emerged a bit later—There she was! His love, a chunk of him was hers entirely. He smiled. “Look!”

“Mmm. And now you can sleep.”

“NO!” Jaskier cried and leapt to his feet, “No, no, now… now is presenting time. To… the editors. Not Kalvin. But I turn it in… and then sleep,”

He had a sudden burst of energy, and tried to step over Geralt and the papers, but fell into the table instead, before the Witcher steadied him from below.

“Ohhhh, thank you dear. It’s time for… presentation! Mm.” He leaned into Yennefer’s warmth at his side, though she did not wrap her arms around him as he’d hoped. “Help me pick out an outfit.”

He blinked. Yennefer was in front of him now, looking at him with a frown, her hands around his waist. Geralt’s hand was against his forehead. “No! Stop that! I’m fine. I’m fine! See me! Fine. It’s action time. Let’s go!” and he marched off to the bedroom.

The floor was suddenly very close to his face.

“Did I—”

“You fell on your face.”

“Have I—”

“You’ve asked three times now, yes.”

There should have been fanfare when he turned it in, but there was only the grateful smile of Edmond, the young new assistant, a firm handshake, and a promise he’d hear back from them very soon, for a quick summarization of their initial thoughts. Or, he’d used all those words, Jaskier forgot which order they’d come in.

The three returned to the apartment, and everything happened very slowly and so quickly he found it hard to keep track. There was definitely a bath drawn for him—gods, it had been days, hadn’t it— oh, fuck, he was gross, wasn’t he—a full meal, and a celebratory drink. He’d made a few good jokes, and all he could see were Geralt and Yennefer, smiling at him. An empty glass. A bar of soap. A long quill. A messy table. A pile of books and an empty mug. They deposited him on the bed for sleep, and left together.

Jaskier lay there, waiting for sleep to take him.

It did not.

He was so tired he could cry. He did, a few times. He couldn’t think straight. All of it, everything, hurt. His body ached. He tried to soothe himself down alone, rocking himself in the hopes it would work. But nothing.

What if he could never sleep again? What if he would always be awake, forever? What if this was how he died?! Oh gods, he didn’t want to die! He still had edits to approve!

Eventually, he could feel himself getting closer. He adjusted himself, lay on his back and took deep, measured breaths, kept his eyes closed but relaxed. Okay. Okay. Sleep.

He was falling, so violently and so fast that when he jolted awake, he forgot he’d been lying on a bed in the first place.

Fuck.

He tried again. It happened sometimes, it was fine. He’d be fine.

He tried breathing deeply once more, trying to let the distant scents of Yennefer and Geralt now embedded in his pillows overtake him.

A fear so powerful it gripped his heart and twisted, whispered to him, ‘this is what dying is, you’re going to die’ and he once again jolted awake. He threw his head back against the pillow and winced; even that hurt.

Fuck. Fuck.

He kept trying. Over, and over, he’d get so close to sleep and then right at the precipice, something would yank him out of it.

Once, he saw Yennefer falling off a cliff. Another time, he saw Geralt stabbed through the chest. At some point, he saw Ciri screaming, and his hands flew out to pull her close, only to find nothing there. Sometimes it was himself falling, and sometimes it was the world below him falling instead.

He’d really done it this time. Stayed awake so long, sleep had abandoned him entirely.

It felt like twelve years before Yennefer and Geralt returned, slipping into the room quietly. He sat up in bed, startling them both.

“Please,” he said quietly, “I can’t. I don’t know why I can’t I just—I can’t. My body won’t let me, I want to but I can’t—”

“How the hell—” Yennefer started, walking over to him with a palm out to check for a curse, maybe? It didn’t matter. He wrapped her hand in his and clutched it to himself, desperate for her. She was so warm. So alive.

“Fuck,” Geralt sighed, “It’s been nearly 70 hours already, Jaskier.”

“Let me just put him down with magic,” Yennefer started, but Geralt put a hand up.

“We can’t. It’s a temporary fix. if he can’t fall asleep on his own without magic, it’ll get harder and harder for him. We need to get him to fall asleep without it.” They looked down at him. What a disgrace he must look like, how pathetic he was. He turned his face away in abject shame. He couldn’t even fall asleep right.

While he looked away, Yennefer tore her hand from his as she and Geralt discarded their clothes into heaps beside the bed, crawled beneath the covers on either side of Jaskier. They hated him. They must. How could they not?

“It’s fine, you don’t—fuck, sorry—”

Geralt shrugged. “Don’t be. I know how bad it gets. It’s different for a Witcher, but no sleep is the whole reason we met Yennefer.”

“Oh, yeah,” Jaskier said softly.

“As I recall, the solution then was to have vigorous sex on the floor.” Yennefer ran a finger along Jaskier’s chest. “Sound appealing?”

“I—yes, Yennefer, it sounds appealing.” He fidgeted, tried to focus on the feeling of Yennefer’s delicate touch. He was oversensitive enough that it felt like fire, but nothing… stirred, and each word he spoke felt like he was pulling honey from his tongue. “I don’t… much as I’d like, I’m not sure I’d be... up for it right now.” Yennefer’s head fell against the pillow and she flattened her hand, ran the palm up his chest to rest above his heart. Pressed a kiss there.

He closed his eyes and tried to breathe deeply, but they were looking at him, he could feel every inch of their gazes and it was all too much. He whined in agony. “I can’t do this. Fuck. I can’t, just put me out. We try it again tomorrow, I—”

“Jaskier. You can. Tell us what you need and we can help you,” Yennefer said, sweet but firm. And that was her, wasn’t it?

He couldn’t think. Wanted to. Wanted so much. Wanted to be asleep.

Jaskier curled up on his side, exhausted of being exhausted, when he felt Geralt slide up closer behind him. “Can I hold you?” he murmured into the bard’s shoulder. Jaskier nodded, and felt Geralt’s arm come around him and under his own arm, felt it slide up his chest and cross it protectively.

“Feel good?” Jaskier nodded, and then cracked his eyes open, met Yennefer’s, concern palpable.

He lifted one arm just slightly. “C’mere?” And she did, curled into his arms and around him, tucked her head under his, kissed the top of Geralt’s fingers. He held her close, and was held by the two in turn. Breathing, somehow, felt easier between them.

“Breathe, bard,” Yennefer urged him softly. Geralt buried his nose in Jaskier’s hair, took in a deep breath, and Jaskier tried to follow.

They breathed softly, all together, slow and safe. Soon, he was drifting into sweet oblivion.

‘You,’ Fear said, wrapped around his sternum, ‘will crumble, the moment you let go of wakefulness.’ It gripped him, and tugged him back to reality.

He jolted again. “Fuck, dammit, cock wringing—”

Yennefer pulled back to look at him worriedly. “Is that what’s been keeping you up?” she asked.

“It’s, I don’t know, something just pulls me back, I try to fight it but…”

“Mmm,” Geralt agreed. “Sleep starts. Happens sometimes.”

“The hell are sleep starts?”

“They’re… when you’re too on edge to sleep, or just haven’t in too long, brains… fizzle. Keep you awake. It’s a survival instinct—it makes you think you’ve got to stay awake to stay alive. Feels like falling? Or… a shock. Sometimes other things. Hallucinations.” Geralt pressed a kiss to the back of his head. “It’s scary. It’s meant to be. Your body thinks it’s fighting for its life.”

“I am never letting you doom yourself like this ever again,” Yennefer said, and while it was probably meant to come out angry, she just sounded worried.

Geralt hummed and agreement. “Try again, we’ve got you. We’re not letting go.” Jaskier took a breath. They had him. They had him.

Yennefer lifted a hand to Jaskier’s temple. “May I?” And he let her in, easier than breathing. She gave him Ciri laughing, wind chimes on the breeze, the soft roar of the coast. Geralt hugged him tight, ran his other hand through Jaskier’s hair, tried to keep the bard’s breathing aligned. Now, what had he ever done to earn these two?

Soon, sleep came to him again, and he could feel Yennefer ready to soothe anything that came for him in his mind, Geralt ready to defend against anything that dared hurt his resting body. The darkness crept in, and he felt peace.

Geralt was reaching for him, falling, bleeding, screaming.

“FUCK!”

“Shh,” the real Geralt hushed him. “We’ve got you.”

“Fuck, there’s got to be something else,” Yennefer groaned. “What’ve you tried so far?”

“I have tried… to fall asleep.”

Yennefer and Geralt both huffed small laughs. “No. Positions—”

“Only the good ones.”

“Meditating?” Geralt asked.

“Darling, I haven’t had a thought in my head in hours. This is meditation.”

“Drugs?” Yennefer asked.

“I will try the drugs!” Jaskier said with a drowsy cheerfulness, as Geralt replied “No drugs. No.”

“Ugh,” Jaskier groaned, and shifted to lie on his stomach. Oh. This was… better. He nestled into the pillows, and a soft contented sigh drifted from him.

“That feel better?” Geralt asked as he ran a hand up and down Jaskier’s back. “Mmm,” Jaskier replied. Yennefer’s hand joined Geralt over his chest. Oh, they were going to make him cry.

And then it was too much, too much feeling, like his brain couldn’t handle all the sensation, and he felt Yennefer come to pause, and a moment later, Geralt’s hand as well. ‘That better?’ Yennefer asked in his mind. Jaskier gave her the memory of his favorite hug with her, warm and happy as her legs wrapped around his waist, and his favorite with Geralt, crushing and firm and full of too many emotions to speak aloud.

“Could…” he said softly, “Just. Talk? Not to me. Just… to each other. Just wanna hear you.” He could almost hear their smiles, and felt as they settled in on the pillows beside him, arms and hands intertwining on his back. Yennefer’s head on his shoulder, the gentle planes of Geralt’s chest on his other side. “If you need us, Yennefer and I are here. We’ve got you. You’re safe.”

He nodded into the mattress, cool and soft below him.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

“G’night Yennefer.”

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

"G’night, Geralt.”

He started to fade into oblivion, but stopped himself before he got too far. Not fear, not anxiety, a conscious stopping. Somewhere above him, Geralt was telling Yennefer about the contract from… sometime in the past few days, and Yennefer was telling her own story about some town gossip with a woman and her hens, which, it might have been a metaphor, but he’d basically forgotten what those were by now. He breathed deeply, felt their words flow through him, and when he felt brave enough, he let go, trusting they would catch him.

He could have sworn he heard wind chimes, somewhere.

x

The small amount of light filtering in through the curtains was golden when he awoke. His head both ached and felt light as a feather, his muscles screamed and cried but half of it was in relief. He gave a small stretch and yawned. “G’morning,” an amused Geralt said to him, lounging in a chair he’d brought beside the bed, reading a book. His legs were propped up on the bed beside the bard’s and Jaskier stretched to bump their toes together.

“What time…?”

“You slept 13 hours.”

“Fuck.”

“You probably need more.”

“Yeahhhh.”

“Feel alright?”

“Like a real human being,” he said. “Hungry, though.”

“Mmm.”

Yennefer slipped in the door, but, noticing Jaskier was awake, rose a hand. “May I?” she asked, voice dripping in sarcasm, gesturing to the curtains.

“You may,” Jaskier offered, covering his face with his hands. “Ohhhh, gods, how bad was I?”

“Genuinely awful,” Yennefer said, as Geralt was saying, “There’s been worse.”

“Normally I’d withhold this,” the mage said, withdrawing a small envelope from her pocket. “But, under the circumstances…” she cleared her throat.

“To one Julian Alfred Pankratz. We were extremely pleased to receive your manuscript yesterday afternoon. Our editors are will have their notes to you by the weekend, but we wanted to reach out and extend our most sincere compliments on your work. It is—oh, a flood of adjectives, I’m skipping these. Etcetera, etcetera, sucking your dick, etcetera alright, here—and meticulous in construction. We can tell,” Yennefer said, dragging out the final sentence, “you made good use of your year of writing time to complete the work.” Jaskier and Geralt by this point were holding back true howls of laughter.

“And won’t you believe it, there’s more. Ahem; we have a number of suggestions and questions already, but encourage you to get your well-deserved rest as we prepare our feedback. We are grateful to work with you, and thank you again for your stunning entry. There’s a postscript,” Yennefer added. “As a quick and personal note, we cannot have helped but notice the nature of your penmanship; we mean no offence, but would encourage you to see a doctor of the eye to fit you with some spectacles.”

“My—my penman…? What’d—” and Yennefer, who had clearly been waiting for this moment, brought out a rather crumpled piece of parchment with an ink stain at the bottom—ah, yes, the original page 64— and showed it to him. His eyes were… gods, they were aching, but he was clear minded enough now to see that each line had become at least twice it’s normal size. The lines were far from straight, dipping and bending toward the edge of the paper, the letters changed directions at random points, and a fair amount of the words were smudged so completely they were hard to make out.”

Jaskier stared in horror.

“They. Is that. Is that what it looked like? Really?”

“It’s worse than most of the ones that made it in,” Geralt said, carefully.

“Most?!”

“You drew pictures on one of them,” Yennefer said.

“Oh my god. They…they must…”

“Adore it, clearly,” Yennefer said, setting aside the paper. “It wasn’t worth the strain, and you’ve definitely firmly embarrassed yourself, but they’re either embarrassing themselves by fawning praise on you,” she said, sliding onto the bed, “Or you’re actually just… very knowledgeable and talented, even when addled by sleep deprivation.”

There was a pause, Jaskier soaking this in; it hadn’t been worth it, exactly, but it wasn’t all bad. In fact, it was quite good, and Yennefer was complimenting him outright, so, very good.

“Or both,” Geralt added.

“Definitely both,” Yennefer agreed.

Jaskier groaned. “You can’t be mean to me. You’re in my house and I am extremely tired, which means that you, by law, must kiss me and tell me nice things about myself.”

Geralt laughed, light and free, and Yennefer slunk slower down into the bed. “You get no kisses,” she said, “You get sleep and rest.” She grabbed a pillow from under her head and plopped it delicately onto Jaskier’s face.

“Boo,” Jaskier said, muffled beneath the thing. He closed his eyes. Geralt muttered something, and Yennefer gave a snort of laughter, and then there was silence.

“Are you two kissing up there?!”

More silence.

“UGH,” he groaned, and sunk into his soft, sweet mattress. Oh, beautiful mattress. How he adored it, how he adored his two loves on top of it. He listened to their kissing, soft, and sweet, and knew he’d join them soon. But it was so warm down here. Even as one of them removed the pillow, he could only bring himself to open his eyes for a moment, to see them both leaning to kiss his face gently, before returning to each other. He took a long, deep breath, and listened to them swirl around him, until all he could feel was their love and the sweet caress of his pillow.

[rhysismydaddy]

After Midnight pt. 4 (Feysand)

I have the strongest urge to reread ACOWAR just to read the part where Cass and Azriel like “slam into the ice” or something when Feyre’s running from the Autumn Court. That scene is so good for absolutely no reason I love it. 

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

_________________________________________________________

~Rhysand~

As usual, thoughts of Feyre invade my head the entire week. 

I can’t believe I told her about Mor. 

My cousin’s treatment is my biggest secret, and I haven’t even let it slip to my closest friends. They all think I’m too busy with teaching to see them. And Mor... I told her I’m paying for her care by finance work online. 

And yet I told Feyre. 

The one person on the planet I probably shouldn’t have told. 

Except I don’t regret a moment of what happened last week. 

Even the goodbye kiss. Oh, yeah, that’s played a prominent part in the memories that flood through my head in the seven days between our appointments. 

I couldn’t resist it. She was standing there looking painfully beautiful, and thoughts of what she’d done an hour before were practically suffocating me. So I kissed her. 

Which was stupid as hell, because goodbye kisses are something couples do. Couples who have feelings for each other. 

And we don’t. 

We have a connection--that’s undeniable at this point--but we definitely don’t have feelings for each other. 

I ignore how that statement feels and get off the elevator, then use the key Feyre left at the desk for me and swing the door open to our standard Friday-night room.

As soon as I see her, I feel my face stretch into a wide, genuine smile I hardly use anymore. I’d feel ridiculous if she weren’t smiling back at me. 

“Feyre,” I greet, brain only able to produce one word. Usually I’d say something else, perhaps ask how her week was, but I can’t hold onto any solid thoughts as I drag my eyes appreciatively over her frame. 

Her typical jeans and tank-top have been replaced with a black work dress, and while it’s not provocative in the slightest, she manages to make it look like the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. 

“You have your horny eyes on, Rhysand,” she teases, taking a step towards me. 

Probably because I’m horny. 

I manage to keep that bit of truth in and scoff instead. “How do you know these aren’t my artist eyes?”

Her lips twitch as she takes another step towards me. “Because I’m about a thousand percent sure you have no idea what the difference between surrealism and cubism is.”

I find myself walking towards her, too as I reply, “I could probably come up with a pretty good lie if you gave me enough time.”

She shrugs, and I notice we’re face to face now. Our little banter’s immediately forgotten as we look each other over, and my ego goes almost through the roof as her eyes go horny, too. 

I don’t know why, but I’ve never been so attracted to someone in my entire life. I’ve been around more than enough women, and it’s never been like this. I’ve never felt so... out of control. 

All I want to do is throw her down on that bed and kiss every inch of her skin until she begs me for more. 

Feyre’s apparently having similar dirty thoughts, because she tilts her head back and makes a request. And for the first time, she doesn’t even blush. 

“Kiss me, please.”

Always so polite. 

Grinning, I brush her hair behind her ear and cup her jaw. Then I lean down and press my mouth to hers in the softest, barest kiss possible. 

Pulling back, I meet her clear blue eyes and smirk at how annoyed she looks. I know what she wants, but I don’t want her to ask. I want her to kiss me like she wants to be kissed. 

And after calling me a “total asshole,” she does. Her hands pull my face back down to hers, and then her mouth is claiming mine in a slow, heated embrace. 

I really could kiss her all night. 

Especially when she’s like this, kissing me like it’s the last time she’ll ever get to do it. 

My hands pull her hips to me, then sneak around to her backside. She’s on her tiptoes, giving me plenty of access, but it somehow isn’t enough, so I lift her clear off her feet. 

Feyre gasps into my mouth, even as she wraps her legs around my waist. And it feels like fucking heaven. 

I remind myself once again that she's paying me to be here. I don’t deserve her. I shouldn’t enjoy it like this. Shouldn’t think about her all the time. Shouldn’t crave the taste of her skin. But, gods above I do.

And for once, I’m going to just let go and stop caring. 

So I walk us over to the bed, then flop down on my back with her on top of me, keeping in mind her panic at confinement. 

Then she surprises me by rolling over, gripping my shoulders so I come with her. I find myself between her thighs, braced on my elbows, looking down at her in confusion. 

Before I can speak a word, she beats me to it. “I trust you.”

She whispers the words, but I hear them loud and clear. And I don’t know why, but it makes my chest tighten to the point it hurts. 

Maybe because I know how big of a deal trust is to her. Maybe because in my mind, it makes me different from everyone else. Maybe because... I trust her, too. 

We’re kissing again, and even I have no idea who’s kissing who at this point. It feels like we’re both desperate for each other, like we can’t get enough. 

Her hands are all over me, and when they slide under my shirt, I lean up to tug it off. I don’t know if she just gave up trying to be polite or doesn’t care anymore or knows I’d say yes to anything she wants, but I’m not complaining.

A hand on my chest pushes me up a few inches, and then she’s reaching behind her back to unzip her dress. 

Because I’m a gentleman, I help her out of it, and then my hands are on her skin, callouses scraping across her abdomen, up her legs, down her arms.

I move to kiss her neck, smiling when she moans softly. Her hands slide down my abdomen, then the buckle of my pants flicks open. 

Pulling back, I look down at her and scan her face for any sign of hesitation, not wanting to do anything she doesn’t want.

But there’s none. 

And Feyre confirms it a second later when she smiles, cups my face, and says, “Please.”

She should never, ever say that word again, since she obviously doesn’t know what it does to me.

“Feyre,” I warn, knowing that once I start down this path, I won’t be able to stop.

She just nods and pulls me back down to her. “I’m ready. But only... only if you want to.”

Because even though she’s paying me more than most people make in a month for being here, she’d never force me. 

“Silly woman,” I tell her, and she smiles at the words. 

Her legs fall open further as I kick off my pants and briefs, but even as I sink back down on top of her, I don’t make a move to take things further. 

I don’t just want her to be ready; I want her to be desperate. 

So I keep kissing her. 

And then I run a hand down her stomach and slip it between her legs. She makes a helpless, indignant sound, but I don’t stop. 

Leaning down further, I tug on her earlobe with my teeth as I push a finger inside her, and she mumbles my name. I think I could listen to her say those four letters on fucking repeat. 

My mouth makes its way down to her chest, and I start teasing her there, too. Gods, the way her skin tastes is like a drug to me.

“Rhysand,” she warns, her back arching off the bed. 

I switch to her other breast, and her hands tug my hair in a way that makes my resolve start to crumble. 

“I know you told me to never tell you what to do, but I’m going to anyway,” I tell her with a smile, moving to press a kiss to her cheek. “Come for me.”

Surprisingly, she listens to the demand, arching into me and squeezing my shoulders hard enough her nails dig in. 

It’s only when she’s coming down from the high that I reach between us and bring us together. 

Feyre moans, and I let out a curse that would make a sailor blush, unable to help it. 

Because I was right: having her on my hand is absolutely nothing compared to having her beneath me. 

Even though my body begs me to move, I stay still until her eyes open and peer up at me. “Rhys.”

It’s just one word, but I understand exactly what she’s saying. “I know.”

I start to move, hips going slow enough to make us both crave more. Her legs are tight around my waist, and I grip her hip with one hand, bracing myself with the other. 

We’re kissing again, her hands in my hair keeping me where she wants. When her hips start to churn against mine, I pick up speed, and she groans into my mouth. 

Her name falls off my lips and she smiles against me, seeming to like it as much as I do. Her fingers run through my hair, and she moves to kiss down my throat, across my collarbone. 

It’s too much, just like I knew it’d be. She’s moving against me in an effortlessly sexy way, and I’m close to begging her to stop because it’s driving me fucking crazy. 

She definitely doesn’t feel like a client right now, that’s for sure. 

That thought threatens to ruin my happiness, so I shove it away and move a hand between her legs. 

Her head tilts back on the mattress, and I know she’s close because she starts murmuring all sorts of nonsense. 

Smiling, I kiss her again, moving both my hips and my hand a little faster. 

And it’s a good fucking thing she finds release, because I don’t know how much longer I could’ve made it. 

She’s tight around me, and it’s an effort to keep going as both of us groan and clutch at each other. I keep kissing her thoroughly as the aftershocks work their way through my entire body, unable to pull myself away. 

Even when I no longer feel like I’m falling off a cliff, I press kisses to her bottom lip, her cheek, her nose. It’s completely unprofessional and emotional, but I can’t stop myself. 

She looks goddamn edible, all flushed and happy and smiling up at me. 

Eventually I force myself to stop and roll off her, and then we both lay looking at the ceiling as our breathing returns to normal. 

“Thanks,” she giggles, the sound so adorable I chuckle, too. 

“Ditto,” I respond honestly, smiling when she rolls toward me and puts her head on my chest. 

Apparently she’s feeling a little unprofessional, too. 

I’m suddenly too tired to worry about it. 

My eyes drift close as one of my hands finds its way to her hair, pulling the soft strands through my fingers sleepily. Normally I don’t pass out next to clients, but it’s been a long ass week, and she’s so warm, and I’m so comfortable. 

I hear her murmur something, feel her lips press against my cheek softly, but I’m too tired to keep myself awake. 

~

I wake up with a start, sitting up in the bed and looking around the dim room in confusion. 

Feyre isn’t occupying her side of the bed, and a slight panic works its way over me as I run a hand over the cool sheets. Did she have a panic attack? Where is she?

I kick the covers off and run to the bathroom, but she isn’t there either. She’s nowhere to be found, because she’s not here. 

I’d think she went to get room service or something from the bar, except her bag’s gone, too. And suddenly, I realized what happened. 

She left.

It’s confirmed a second later when I see a white envelope sitting on top of my backpack. 

Heart working overtime in my chest, I trudge over and pick it up. It’s heavy, like there’s a lot of paperwork inside. 

Gods, she isn’t suing me or something, is she? 

That happened once, and it fucking sucked. 

Tearing open the envelope and looking at what’s inside, I realize it’s so much worse. 

I throw the thick stack of papers on the bed, focusing instead on the handwritten note in my hands. 

Rhys, 

I meant to give you this when you showed up tonight, but like you said, I have no self-control. It really is pathetic, but I blame you. 

I know we had another appointment, but I can’t see you again. I’m slightly embarrassed to say you were right to worry about repeats getting attached. I can’t see you as just an escort anymore. 

Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. You’ve given me my freedom back, and I can’t thank you enough. All I can try to do is return the favor. 

-Feyre

What does she mean, she can’t see me as just an escort anymore? Does she have feelings for me? Why the hell did she leave?

And what does that mean, return the favor?

Remembering the papers in the envelope, I pick them up and scan over pages and pages of legal documents. It’s only when I get to the very last one and read the handwritten words do I understand. 

You’re free. 

Holy fuck. 

She paid for it. 

She paid for Mor’s treatment. All of it. Every last penny. 

That’s... she can’t have done that. It would’ve taken me at least two more years to finish paying off the debt. 

Holy fuck. 

She... I’m free. 

The words should be celebrated, written on a cake. They should be shouted off the rooftops at two in the morning with a big smile and a glass of champagne. 

But where the joy and excitement should lie is just a pit of sadness and confusion. 

Why’d she leave? She should’ve just told me this in person. Especially if she has feelings for me. 

Hell, she should’ve known that I... I don’t see her as just a client, either. I don’t know when exactly--maybe ever since that first night--but I haven’t for a while. 

She’s gone, and there’s no way to get her back. She’s given me this incredible gift and disappeared before I can even thank her. 

But despite all the confusion and frustration and helplessness is one undeniable emotion: resolve.

I want her. I want her to be mine without either of us owing each other a thing. I want her to know I care about her, too.  

I want her back, and I’m going to go get her.  

________________________________________________________

Part 5

@perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @savemesoon8 @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace @trinitybailey2003 @zukos-simp @that-other-pineapple @booksofthemoon @stardelia @awesomelena555 @queen-of-glass @whilma-warfstache @highqueenofelfhame @spyofthenightcourt @samcortlandisaginger @city-of-infernal-dauntless @verypaleninja @nikki1288-blog

[beckydoesthings]

various fics of hxl that i adore reading! this list is quite lengthy, but feel free to message me if you have any questions!

*will continue to be updated. also, if i mistagged you, i apologize, i do not know how to tumblr*

Love Is a Rebellious Bird

E | 134k | @100percentsassy and gloria_andrews

AU in which the boys still make music. Louis is the concertmaster of the London Symphony Orchestra, Harry is the New! and Exciting! interim conductor/ex-cello prodigy who "has made Mozart cool again" according to Esquire Magazine (Louis hates him immediately, which is definitely why he internet stalked him in his dark bedroom late at night that one time), and Niall is the best. Zayn and Liam are around too.

Don't hum Bolero.

i think this tickled every bone of my musical self and also made me cry (are you seeing a theme here??) one of the first fics i fell in love with and one i keep coming back to.

Collision

E | 226k | @tequiladimples

Mythology/Fairytale!AU in which Louis is a dainty fairy with a temper who wants to be intimidating and Harry hurts people. Naturally, they hate each other.

(Featuring Liam, the big and not-so-bad wolf who’s got a thing for humans, Zayn, a human with supernaturally good looks, and Niall, the cupid who just wants his job to be easier.)

the world building in this one is insanity - so much good mythology mixed in and it made me screech with joy. i think i can firmly say that i did not expect where the plot went, but that made the story so much better.

Flour and Chocolate

M | 145k | @danosphere91

It was nice, for a bakery he supposed.

Then he approached the display cabinet.

And the foreboding slammed into him. Because every product had letters next to it. Letters. GF, DF, V, O, VGN.

What. The. Fuck?

Lifting his eyes to the chalkboard menu spread across the back wall Louis felt physically ill. ‘Gluten-free’, ‘organic’, ‘vegan’, ‘paleo’, ‘dair-…’ Wait, what the fuck was a paleo? He had entered some hipster-trash establishment and it was more than time to get out.

OR

Louis is a single dad and Harry works at the newly opened bakery down the street.

the miscommunication in this fic is SO REAL and makes for a good read. the rest of the flour and chocolate series is also fantastic. i thoroughly enjoyed both the ziam and ed/niall arcs that bring the whole story together.

run away home

E | 106k | @hattalove

Louis stands, in the middle of a clearing with his hands in his pockets, and stares. This boy—God, this gorgeous, gorgeous boy. He seems so clumsy, confused at the best of times, but there’s a wisdom about him as he speaks, a maturity that belies his age.

Louis is hopelessly, wildly attracted to him.

or, louis is a successful jockey down on his luck, struggling to get his life back on track after an injury. harry has a horse, a house fit for a prince, and a broken heart.

it takes them a while to figure out that they need each other.

this makes my inner horse girl extraordinarily happy - even if i don’t know anything about horse racing. louis’ story in this is beautiful and makes the whole piece worth a read.

waiting for the tides to meet

E | 60k | @nauticalleeds

Louis lets out a deep breath, thinking about Harry’s soulmate. Thinking about how Harry’s soulmate is probably as beautiful as Harry, some person that Louis cannot compare to, and how the universe has chosen them to be Harry’s. Fuck the universe. “Fuck you,” he calls out to the universe. He’s aware of how crazy he sounds.

Maybe he is crazy, with how he’s falling for Harry. And fuck that, too.

Soulmate AU. Everyone is born with heterochromia — one eye is their own eye colour, while the other is the colour of their soulmate's. It's only when they meet their soulmate for the first time that their own eyes match properly. After a hazy night at a frat party, Louis wakes up to blue eyes and the shocking realization that he had met his soulmate, without any sober recollection. Seven years pass where Louis comes to terms with the fact that he'll never know who his soulmate is. Then one fated summer, a beautiful green-eyed photographer arrives at Louis' workplace, with promises of endless laughter and a familiar feeling in Louis' heart.

Featuring a lovely cup of OT5, a road trip down the coast, and a scene where Harry eats a whole head of lettuce. Don't ask why.

gorgeous soulmate AU that gives me summer cruising vibes. worth the read for the lettuce scene alone (i kid, i kid)

Do Not Go Gentle

E | 70k | @afirethatcannotdie

“This is all a game to you, isn’t it? Well, it’s not for me. This is a real life or death situation,” Louis says, spitting the words at him. “And I just don’t think you’re cut out for it.”

For a moment, they stare at each other in complete silence. Harry can feel his blood thrumming between his ears, can see Louis glaring at him, feels red-hot anger. And then all he feels, oppressively and desperately, is lust.

Suddenly Louis is surging up to him to press his lips against Harry’s. Harry walks the two of them backwards, pressing Louis back against the door. Louis oomphs in surprise and brings his hands under Harry’s scrub top, scratching at his lower back.

“Lock — oh — lock the… fucking door,” Louis mutters.

When Harry Styles starts his first day as a surgical intern, he expects a lot of things: to treat patients, to observe a surgery, to feel a bit overwhelmed. What he definitely doesn't expect, however, is that the handsome guy he kicked out of his bed this morning is also an intern.

A Grey’s Anatomy AU where tensions are high, Harry and Louis are hooking up in secret, and no one has time for love. Or do they?

okay i’ve watched maybe 3 episodes of Gray’s Anatomy, but i feel like this encompasses the vibe of the show: medical stuff with a hefty dose of angst and sexual tension

Falling For Me Won’t Be A Mistake

M | 58k | @all-these-larrythings

Harry is married to his job and so overworked that he doesn't know how to stop. All it takes is a forced Hawaiian get-a-away, the warm tropical breeze of the island, and the most beautiful, elusive man he's ever seen to make him remember what living is like outside of work. Well, that, and the little souvenir he accidentally takes home with him.

one of my favorite mpreg fics so if that’s not your cup of tea, then don’t read it. i love surgeon harry with a vengeance, but honestly Gems and Niall are iconic in this one.

Watching the World Fall

E | 11k | @crazyupsetter why won’t it let me tag :(

This segment has been going on long enough that Louis knows what’s coming before James starts in on it, trying to sell him on something he knows that Louis wouldn’t normally be buying. But there’s four cameras surrounding him, and an audience watching him expectantly, so if Louis wants to continue convincing people that he’s doing just fine, he’s going to have to go along with it.

“We have a whole host of single men backstage waiting to meet you, Louis,” James tells him. “We want to help you find love tonight, on Late Late Live Tinder. Is this okay? Do you want to play?”

It actually kind of makes sense that his first date after the break-up is going to be just as public as said break-up. Something like coming full circle.

“Alright, James,” Louis agrees, hopping down off his stool.

“Okay, come down to the stage,” James says. Louis can’t even tell whether the excitement in his voice is genuine or not. “Right now, come on down!”

i have a soft spot the size of Antarctica for Late Late AU fics (we stan James Corden) and for exes to lovers so this checks all the boxes.

autumn leaves

E | 27k | @suspendrs

“Brave?” Harry frowns, caught off guard. “No, not particularly.”

“You seem brave,” Louis decides, pushing off the wall and stepping on the butt of his cigarette. “You are strong, and you are not mean. That’s good,” he assures, touching Harry’s arm gently.

“Thank you, but that’s not true,” Harry smiles ruefully. “I’m really not anything special.”

Or, Harry is an American soldier in France during World War II, and Louis is a French waiter that doesn't mean to fall in love with him.

love love french AUs and while this one isn’t sunshine and rainbows, it’s a beautiful yet heart wrenching piece. warning for period typical homophobia

caught up in your love affair

NR | 8k | @disgruntledkittenface

“And the corgis took to you straightaway,” Harry remarks.

“That’s true,” Louis chuckles.

 “I’ve spent the last 29 years being barked at,” Harry deadpans, jerking his hand toward Louis, “this one walks in, absolutely nothing.”

Louis outright giggles at that, saying, “They were just lying on my feet during tea.”

“Wagging tails,” Harry says, shaking his head.

“It’s because they don’t understand flirting,” Louis tells him, “you can’t charm them the way you do everyone else.”

Royal AU. Prince Harry announces his engagement to Louis Tomlinson in an interview with longtime friend and BBC host Nick Grimshaw. Inspired by Prince Harry and Meghan Markle.

just. 8k of royal fluff. that’s literally it and i adore it so much.

Apples Always Fall (As I Do For You)

M | 54k | @rainbowsandgucci

”Due to unforeseen circumstances, help is needed here at the orchard for the impending apple season. Looking for someone able to start within the next week or two at the most, is willing to do whatever miscellaneous tasks are needed, such as picking & packing apples, running the cash register, and other handywork that may need to be done. Must be good with customers, and able to lift up to 50lbs. Help will be needed until at the least the end of October. Please contact the number found on this page, or come out to the orchard and ask for Harry. All the love xx” --- Louis is staying at his Aunt's farm in a small town in Minnesota for four months. To deal with the boredom that sets in a week into his stay, he starts working at the local apple orchard, owned by twenty six year old Harry Styles. Louis quickly finds himself falling in love with the orchard, and he finds a family in Harry's friends Niall, Liam, and Zayn. He also starts to fall in love with Harry. Falling in love with him turns out to be the easy part.

i never thought i would enjoy an apple orchard fic?? but it’s so good?? farmer harry makes me laugh to think about, but the heartbreak in this fic is so. real.

Mine Would Be You

E | 114k | @crinkle-eyed-boo

Louis blinks his eyes open, his eyelids fluttering as the room swims around him. He takes several gulps of beer once he confirms that he’s definitely not hallucinating, that the very first portrait Harry Styles ever painted of him is hanging on that wall.

Louis stares at the wall, his heart jackrabbiting in his chest as he realizes that there’s not just one painting of him, there’s five, the portraits lined up like they’re some sort of storyboard depicting the rise and fall of his deepest love. His greatest heartache. A pain that cut him so deep that he left the fucking country, severing all ties with his life in New York, now suddenly surrounding him as if he’d never left.

Fucking shit motherfucker fuck.

Louis returns to New York City five years after he left it – and the love of his life – behind. He didn't intend to see Harry again, but fate has a funny way of pulling them together, whether they like it or not. After making a begrudging truce, they both start to wonder: Would it be so bad if history repeated itself?

exes to lovers drama but make it extra sad. the fact that we see so many facets to this story just makes it all the more painful, yet beautiful. this fic also reminds me of how much i love one mister niall horan.

One for Luck

E | 96k | @leavingonatrain

The very first time Louis remembers hearing Harry Styles' deep, deep voice, he's just won gold at the World Equestrian Games and he's officially back on Great Britain's Olympic team. He's also three sheets to the wind, drunk on victory and champagne, and there's a gorgeous boy whispering in his ear. Life's grand.

(AU: Louis and Harry are professional riders on the British Olympic team.)

again, i know nothing about horses, but i like to pretend i do for the sake of this fic. it’s beautiful, it’s smutty what else could you ask for?

Nothing But You On My Mind

E | 83k | @absoloutenonsense

Louis Tomlinson is a PR manager hired to improve the image of royal bad-boy Prince Harry Styles. Unfortunately for him, that means being faced with the Prince's constant innuendos, incessant dirty jokes, and relentless flirting. Louis just wants to make it to Princess Gemma's coronation; once she's crowned Queen, his contract is up and he never has to see the Prince again.

i absolutely. definitely. sobbed tears at this fic. it’s just so beautifully painful to read. don’t want to spoil anything, but this is a must.

Adore You

M | 67k | @isthatyoularry

“We invited our new acquaintances from uptown. You’ve simply got to meet their oldest son!” said his mother with a flourish, and suddenly it became abundantly clear as to why his parents had so adamantly demanded he join them in Deansville for the entirety of the summer.

Against his wishes, Harry spends the holidays at his family’s summer estate, and is reluctantly pulled into a courtship he didn’t ask for. Harry doesn’t want to get married, but Louis does. They don’t fit, but then again they really, really do.

Vaguely set in the 1920’s. Headpieces, jazz, fashionable canes, and flapper dresses, and that.

i strongly relate to harry in this one! one of my favorite historical AUs and honestly i love the thought of louis in well fitting suits.

leave it to the breeze

E | 81k | @hattalove

Louis couldn’t be prouder of his bake, but there’s something—there’s something. Something about Harry Styles and the earnest way he measures, pours, mixes, scrapes. Something about the tip of his tongue poking out of his mouth as he knocks the air out of his batter.

or a great british bake off au in which louis cares about winning and winning only, harry is made of sunshine and rainbow sprinkles, and niall sticks his nose into other people's business. also featuring liam as louis's best friend-slash-concerned mother, and zayn as a macaron connoisseur.

i. love. the. great british baking show. baking + h&l is amazing. and another reminder as to why niall is the absolute best.

Paint The Sky With Stars

M | 62k | @icanhazzalou grrr let me tag

On 10 April 1912, Harry Styles boards the finest ship the world has ever seen. Still grieving the death of their mother, he and his sister are being sent to America to live with a callous uncle who cares more about his business connections than family. Harry prepares himself for a long, disappointing voyage alone in his stateroom.

Louis Tomlinson has borrowed and saved, and finally has enough to purchase a Third Class ticket to America. With all of his belongings in a single ruck sack, he boards the Titanic filled with hope for a brighter future. Never one to sit still, he can’t resist exploring the massive ship, and soon goes sneaking into First Class in a stolen steward’s uniform.

By a twist of fate, Louis finds himself in Harry’s stateroom, entranced by the most attractive man he’s ever laid eyes on. He keeps returning day after day, even if he doesn’t understand what it is about Harry that continues pulling him in. That’s all right; Louis has a week to figure it out, and Harry is plenty willing to help.

Except they don’t have a week. They have four days. Because on 15 April, their entire world will be turned upside down.

Or, the historically accurate Titanic AU with a happy ending.

gorgeous historical fic that’s so accurate and painstakingly written. i keep coming back to it!

When It’s Late At Night

M | 25k | @all-these-larrythings

Louis has zero interest in an ex-boybander turned solo artist when his appearance on the show gets announced, but that's exactly who he gets stuck with when Harry Styles shows up at the Late Late show to promote the release of his debut album. For an entire fucking week.

Or

The Late Late prompt that we all need to get through this excruciatingly hard time.

remember when i said i love Late Late AUs? yeah. i love that louis gives absolutely zero shits in this fic until he gives all the shits.

Chasing Empty Spaces

E | 79k | @domestic-harry

The year is 1934 and Harry Styles was to inherent the largest tobacco firm in the south. His parents have picked out the “perfect” girl for him to marry and he has the privilege of receiving the highest education possible. The problem was, Harry hadn’t realized he didn’t actually want any part of that future until he met a mechanic named, Louis Tomlinson.

gorgeous historical AU that goes through Harry’s struggle with his sexuality wonderfully. this one also made me cry.

Resist Everything Except Temptation

E | 100k | @domestic-harry

The lethargic sound of heels clicking against wood resonated across the sea. Footsteps descended the staircase, every assured step creating a menacing aura as it grew closer. Perspiration gathered along Louis’ palms as the rhythmic sound halted in front of him.

“Captain,” Malik greeted.

Louis watched out of his peripheral as Malik’s boots shuffled back a few steps. Sweat matted the hair along the nape of Louis’ neck as he waited for something to happen. He felt as if a sharp blade was twisting his gut as the silence became tangible. There was a metallic slide of a sword being pulled out of its sheath, the sound startling Louis out of his cocoon of sterile shock. His shoulders jumped as the tip of a blade flattened underneath his jaw. Louis’ distorted reflection stared back at him in the polished metal. Engraved rose petals twisted his appearance as they crawled up the length of the sword. The sword lifted and took Louis’ chin with it.

Standing in front of Louis was Captain Styles.

OR

The one where Louis is the commodore's son who is forced to become a part of Harry's crew when he is captured.

love this pirate AU that’s got one badass gemma styles. also, harry as a super cool pirate in gorgeous clothes makes me super happy!

i’ll make this feel like home

E | 49k

Harry to groans himself and then takes a deep breath. “Okay, well. Here’s the thing. I peed on a stick.”

Louis isn’t able to get more than a shocked “What!” out before Harry’s steamrolling on.

“I peed on a stick and it says it’s positive, but you always prattle on about how it’s best to go to the doctor’s before you get excited, you know to confirm it because sometimes hormones are off or you have like a tumor or some shit and get false positives and what if I’m dying and-”

“You’re pregnant?!” Louis shouts out, stomach dropping as the words leave his mouth.

“Um, yeah… maybe.”

[the one where Louis' hopelessly in love with his best mate... who just happens to be pregnant with another man's baby.]

baby momma harry with hot mess!Louis is a recipe for disaster, but this one has plenty of fluff to make up for it.

Hands Clasped Tight

E | 44k | @afirethatcannotdie

“What am I looking at here?” Harry asks.

“This, my friends, is a ‘proof’ Instagram account, run by your students,” Liam announces.

“It’s got all this stuff about how the two of you are together,” Niall adds.

“I heard about that,” says one of the math teachers. “Confiscated a kid’s phone today when they were looking at it. I have to say, the evidence that you’re dating is pretty damning.”

“Really,” Louis says dryly. “Do you think being married for three years might have something to do with it?”

Or the one where Harry and Louis are high school teachers and their students have been playing matchmaker for over a year. Little do they know, Harry and Louis are already married.

love love teacher harry and louis that’s mostly funny fluff with a little angst. just a teeny amount. reminds me of my own experiences with meddling students haha.

*updated 2/16/21*

[vintagedolan]

mixtape: b-sides (#2)

welcome to mixtape, the b-sides! these are little blurbs/bonus content related to mixtape, which you can read here. these little snippets are just for fun, and you don’t have to read them to follow the story! but, if you want to see all of them in one place, check them out here

track: I like me better by lauv

Author’s Note: some cute indy gray fluff from a random day in Jersey to offset all the sad recently haha. This probably happened around track 5/6!

“No fucking way.”

“You forget that I was a scrawny fucking kid.”

“I don’t care, there is no way you ever fit in this thing,” Indy argued, holding up a light blue wrestling singlet that looked like it was made for a 3 year old.

“It’s stretchy. Actually, that one might be Ethan’s, he was a little smaller than me anyways,” Grayson offered with a laugh.

“Uh huh. Okay. You were both tiny.” She pointed to the matching one in the storage bin with a raised eyebrow. 

“It was good to be smaller - made it harder for your opponent to get a hold of you.”

“I never understood wrestling. I mean, I get the basics. Grab and hold down until the ref says you won.”

“Grab… and hold down…” Grayson choked out the words like they hurt to say, trying his hardest not to laugh. Indy rolled her eyes.

“Shut up, I just mean that I don’t understand the strategy. Like the way you do it.”

“Takedowns. Those are called takedowns babe.”

She smacked his shoulder instead of smacking the smirk off his face.

“I played basketball, sue me.”

There was a mischief in Grayson’s eyes that had Indy bracing her feet. She knew something was going to happen, she just didn’t know what. 

Luckily, he took the nice route and grabbed her hand instead of her legs, pulling her into Lisa’s living room and quickly moving the coffee table out of the way, leaving an open rug that would have to do as their wrestling mat for the time being. They walked onto it and turned to face each other. 

Indy squared her shoulders and looked at his, which were much broader than hers. And more muscular. Just like everything else on his body. She swallowed.

“Why do you look like you’re about to pounce on me?” Grayson raised an eyebrow, laughing when Indy ignored him and put on her most serious face, raising her hands up. 

“Okay, be that way. I was gonna help you,” he said. “This is gonna be a squash.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“You’re about to find out. C’mon, show me what you got,” Grayson jeered. 

Indy took a deep breath, and then she was moving. 

It was quick. She tried to move her arms down to his legs, the only hope of getting him to the ground somehow, and she was met with a strong arm around her waist before she was squealing, her legs flying into the air. When she got oriented, she was upside down, staring out at the living room as Grayson’s laughter shook her whole form. 

“Good try baby.” His voice was as cocky as ever and she huffed, holding her shirt so it didn’t end up around her neck.

“I don’t know anything about wrestling but this is definitely illegal.” 

“You’re so green,” he mumbled just to hear her huff again at a term she didn’t know.

“Put me down.”

“Yes ma’am,” he laughed, maneuvering her slowly and keeping a hand on her waist as the blood rushed back from her head when she got back to her feet. Her competitiveness was shining through whether she wanted it to or not, and she crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I can still kick your ass in horse,” she muttered, frustrated.

“Giving up already? C’mon, that’s not my girl,” Gray teased, pulling her to him and wrapping her up, arms still crossed between them. He bit back his laughter and peppered kisses to her hair until she relaxed. He’d gotten used to this Indy - the one who got defensive when faced with something she didn’t know much about, which wasn’t often. It made him smile, knowing something that she didn’t, and he found it adorable that it embarrassed her slightly, got her frustrated enough to rest her head against his chest. 

“You had the right idea you know, going for the legs. Good strat.”

“Good strat,” Indy laughed, shaking her head against his hoodie as he rubbed her back.

“Lower your weight, get a good grip, then lift up and try to get me off my feet. Grab around my leg, and then one around my torso as best you can,” he instructed.

“Show me.”

He smiled at her and waved her forward, taking her hands in his. 

“Okay, lean forward.” She did, and he leaned down with her. He guided her hand to the back of his knee, and she nodded, knowing she was looking for the weak spot. “Now, reach up here,” he guided her other hand to his ribs - “and p-”

She yanked as hard as she could, pulling his leg with all the force she had. Using her shoulder for leverage seemed to work just enough to get him unbalanced and all 190 pounds of him went falling to the floor, his back smacking hard against the rug. 

“Oh shit!” Indy gasped, letting go of him and covering her mouth with her hands. It took a moment for her to register that he was laughing, his hand over his chest, eyes squeezed shut.

“Sorry!” She dropped down to her knees, hands fluttering over him for a moment. 

He laughed again. “Why are you sorry? That was good! Really good actually.”

“Did that not hurt you?”

“No, but you’re hurting my ego if you think I’m that weak.” 

“I hated that,” she admitted with a sigh. “Thank god you don’t actually wrestle anymore.”

He smirked again, and then he was a blur, arms wrapping around her and pulling her around until he had her pinned down without a hope of moving. She writhed under him and giggled; he just smiled.

“1….2….3,” he whispered dramatically, kissing her nose before he let her up. She used her freedom to grab his shirt and pull him back down to kiss him, humming when he dropped more of his weight down onto her. 

“This is so much better than wrestling Ethan,” he murmured into her lips, rolling slightly to the side to rest. Indy closed the space again, scurrying up so she was resting on his chest - her favorite place to be. 

“What’s a squash?”

“Um… a vegetable?” Grayson said. Indy rolled her eyes. 

“Vegetable!” Gizmo called from the kitchen, making them both jump before they laughed. 

“A squash in wrestling, babe” she mumbled, tucking her hand under his shirt and tracing the letters. “You said it earlier.”

“Oh, it’s when you absolutely demolish somebody. Like not even a chance of winning.”

“Green?”

He chuckled and lifted a hand to her back. N-E-W-B-I-E.

He paused and kissed her again, then went back to tracing. F-A-L-L.

“What’s that mean?”

“Guess,” he said.

She sat up and quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll make you start guessing medical terms.”

“It’s what you call the countdown at the end,” he gave in. “The 1-2-3, when your opponent’s shoulders are on the mat.”

They went on like that for a while, with Grayson tracing wrestling jargon on her skin and explaining it all to her. She half listened, more caught up in the excitement in his voice and the warmth of his skin against hers. They lulled down eventually, breathing together and looking around the room from the new perspective of the floor. 

“I love you,” Grayson said in a moment of silence, squeezing Indiana closer to him with the arm he had wrapped around her, kissing her forehead. 

“Love you more,” she hummed.

“Nope,” he countered, shaking his head. She knew it wasn’t worth the argument, so she let him believe it and pushed herself up off his chest. 

“Hey,” he pouted, trying to hold onto her.

“C’mon, you owe me a game of horse. Gotta school you on my turf,” she grinned, reaching a hand down to help him up. It took all her weight to counteract him enough to get to his feet, and she was glad he thought to catch her, helping her balance out when he stood. 

“School me huh? Do I get to see you in a jersey then?” 

“Not a chance,” she grinned, taking his hand and leading him outside.

[iicytodoroki]

Childhood Friends to Lovers - Kageyama Tobio x Fem! Reader NSFW

Warnings: explicit language, fluff to smut (explicit), drinking (legal ages), unprotected (pls use it though!) please don’t read if you’re uncomfortable or too young, this stuff is dirty

WC: 3.1k

A/N: ah ha haa, what if i make a cute fluffy and domestic pt 2, a full 180 from this unholy piece

7 years ago

Dear Diary, 

I met this funny boy in my class, he was really quiet and always looked angry. Since we were sitting next to each other in the back corner of class, we were assigned as partners for the rest of the year. During our first lunch meeting for our project, I caught him trying to shake the vending machine screaming, “Argh! Stupid machine ate my money and won’t,” *kicks machine* “give me my damn milk.” Luckily, I knew where the other vending machine was, which was kind of hidden behind the gym of our junior high. So when we met up at the benches facing the empty tennis courts, I was able to see such a cute blush on his face when I gave him strawberry milk. Turns out his name is Kageyama Tobio and he loves volleyball.

5 years ago

Dear Diary, 

I was so sad today. I found out Tobio and I aren’t going to Shiratorizawa together. We met up at the park that meets halfway of our houses and read our letters. I was able to get in with my grades, but regardless of Tobio’s abilities, his grades were just not enough. I knew he was the most frustrated, but I ended up crying so much. He kept hugging me saying that “It’s okay, we can still see each other, we know where we live.” But I kept saying it’ll be hard for me to make friends since Tobio was the only one I really connected with. I couldn’t see his face, but he just kept hugging me harder. He just said that I’m smarter and stronger than him because I’m brave enough to cry for both of us and get into Shiratorizawa; “Go there for both of us and I’ll meet your school’s team on the court and show them what they’ve missed out.” Tobio always had an odd smile back then, but the gloss on his blueberry eyes told me he meant it. So I smiled too and we just stayed there enveloping each other’s warmth. 

2 years ago

Dear Diary, 

It was the week of our graduations. Shiratorizawa’s graduation happened before Karasuno’s. But Bateyama (exhausted Kageyama) had to oversleep. Luckily, the previous third years from my first year came over to congratulate me since I was their manager. Tobio forcing me to learn volleyball seemed to come in handy, plus I was able to see them in their matches. Anyways, my closest friend Wakatoshi came. He brought me my favorite flowers and gave those rare smiles for me for graduating as Top 3 in my class! Ah, to make Waka proud and smile. It’s so rare just like Tobios, they’re both volleyball idiots but they're my volleyball idiots. 

After about an hour the third years had to leave for their trains and Tobio was then running towards me! I was so ready to yell at him for almost breaking his promise, but I kinda choked when I saw he was red-faced in a cuffed white button up and tie, black slacks, and a belt that definitely accentuated his upper build. He kept on apologizing for sleeping in, but he said he’d make it up by taking us to our usual restaurant.

Boy, did he feed me well. I really wanted to confess to him when we were walking home. His side profile looked so handsome with the orange and gold glow behind him. But then he told me he was going to the city, either Chiba or Tokyo to train for the volleyball team. So I stopped myself, I mean he’s going to be so busy and I’d just hold him back, right? What kind of friend would I be to stop him from his dreams after working so hard for it since second grade?

So we agreed to keep texting each other of course, and have the occasional meet up since I’ll be going to Keio University near Tokyo. 

Today

Dear Diary, 

I’m finally on break!!! And I got plans to meet up with Waka for dinner! Geez, I haven’t seen him in ages. He’s been constantly keeping me up to date with his matches and training and always checking in if I have food. He’s still the same back in high school, always looking out for me like a reliable captain. He also told me Tobio got in the Schweiden Alders! So maybe I get to finally see my blueberry boy. To be honest, I am kinda nervous though, we rarely text and haven’t seen each other in over a year. 

Checking the time, it read 3:20pm. You had to get ready and leave by 4pm, so hopefully you can make it to the gym by 4:30pm when Waka finishes up practice. Now that you knew you’re likely to run into Tobio, you thought maybe you should dress up a little. So putting on a long straight skirt that flattered your ass in the best ways and a short sleeve blouse that matched your natural makeup, you checked yourself out in your mirror. You for sure grew into a beautiful young woman, each feature on your face was no longer the “sweet, lovely YN”. You could take on any person you’d want. One you’re hoping to make an impression on after you meet him today. 

Awkwardly standing at the entrance of the gym, you can see a crowd of really tall and muscular guys patting down with towels and drinking water. Finally your eyes met with the stoic face of the olive-tone man. Waka started walking towards you, still clad in his sweaty uniform but you didn’t care. You went up to him and hugged as much as you could of his sports model torso. 

Waka gave you a small chuckle at your attempts and returned your hug. As you two were recapping your plans after he cleans up, you see at the corner of his bicep tufts of the same black hair you wanted to run your hands through. The blueberry boy was busy patting the sweat off his face with a towel. 

“Tobio? Tobio!” Hearing his name, Tobio looked in your direction as you jogged up to him. He looked to be in a state of shock that you were actually here. He staggered a bit when you hugged him, but after a moment he wrapped his arms around you.

Wow, he sure trained hard.

Pulling you out from deeper--inappropriate--thoughts, Tobio pushed your shoulders at arms length giving you his dopey smile. The dopey smile just for you. 

“What are you doing here, YN?”

“Oh, I’m here to meet up with Waka. I’m finally on break and he’s off this weekend, so we wanted to get dinner together.”

Looking behind you, Tobio sees the walking Super Ace coming towards you guys.

“Ah! You should join us Tobio! Right Waka?” you smiled looking up at Wakatoshi.

“Mm. If he’d like,” he stoically said.

“Sure, let me just get in the shower and I’ll meet you at the foyer.” 

Happy at the answer you wait for the two giants. While walking to the restaurant with a Koshitsu (private room/booth) you were in between the two, making you feel much smaller than you are. You kept talking since both of them were mostly listeners. Waka gave the hum for acknowledgement, but Tobio would keep his eyes on you. More specifically your hands. He could just easily grab them, but you guys weren’t like that. 

Dinner ended right when the skies were turning into a rich dark, blue. Almost like his eyes.

You thanked the heavens you didn’t pay because those two literally ate for a whole family. Each of them. Nonetheless, it was fun catching up with the volleyball fanatics.

“Would you like for me to walk you home Yn,” Waka asked.

“Um,” you hesitated since you wanted Tobio to ask you first. But then, “Ushijima-san, I understand your sleep schedule is at 8:30pm, it’s 8:00pm now. It’ll ruin your biological clock, so I can walk YN home. Also, she and I live in the same direction.” 

Waka looked at you for approval and you gave a reassuring nod, “I’d appreciate that Tobio and don’t worry Waka, Tobio and I have been close friends since middle school!”

At that, Wakatoshi bid both of you a good night and safe walk back home.

Reaching the doorstep to your flat, you turned around to face Tobio. You and him both awkwardly looked down at your feet until you broke the silence. 

“Would, would you like to come inside for drinks? You know since it’s my break and your weekend off?”

Snapping his head up, Tobio meekly nodded his head. Now you both were drinking at your kitchen counter laughing at the old memories before graduation. The giggles finally quieted down until there was a pregnant pause. 

“You know, I’ve always liked you since that day you bought me that milk,” he said softly. 

Now alert and cleared of your foggy thoughts, you stared at Tobio.

Tobio continued, “I didn’t realize how much I loved you until I saw how close you were to Ushijima…”

“Wait, do you mean it?”

Tobio quietly nodded his head and looked right into your eyes. Searching for an answer.

Instead, you lunged at him holding his face in your hands as you kissed him. Tobio titled his head and rested his hands on your hips. After a few chaste kisses, he wrapped his arms around the small of your back and deepened the kiss. 

Tobio prodded at your lips for entrance which you gladly gave into. His wet muscle forced yours down quickly and focused on exploring your mouth. Muffled moans from his tongue touching the roof of your wet cavern and suckling of your own wet muscle. Your knees literally became weak and were about to give out. Sensing this, Tobio’s firm, vein-decorated hands grasped your ass to hold you up against him. Gasping at his rough kneading you moaned, “T-tobio…”

Hearing his name falls from your lips was like flipping a switch in him. Next thing you know, he lifted you so you were now sitting on the edge of the counter. He became more aggressive and desperate to have his lips meet the rest of your skin. He started to trail down your neck, leaving deep red marks at the junction of your shoulders.

“Nghh--more Tobio…”

At this, he lifted and threw your blouse somewhere over his shoulder and started leaving new marks until Tobio’s lips grazed the edge of your bra.

“Off,” he huffed, “Now.” 

Seeing the dark, lust in his eyes caused your lower abdomen to tighten. So complying to his demands, you unclasp your bra revealing your supple chest to him. Then you suddenly feel the calloused fingers tweaking at one nipple while massaging and the lapping of his tongue on the other. Tobio growled at the newfound source while you curled your fingers at the base of his hair behind his head. After whimpers and moans from him interchanging between each nipple, you feel his hard-on grinding into your inner thigh. 

“A-ah, T-tobio…” his teeth tugged, “pl….mm, please!” you shouted

Releasing his mouth with a wholly pop, he huffed and looked at you with his overcasted bangs, 

“Do you really want to?”

Even after all that he still had that crease of a frown and genuine concern in his eyes.

Smiling at his question, you looked at him through your lashes before meeting your foreheads saying, “Of course I want you Tobio, I want you so bad…” 

Hearing the air choke up inside his throat, you decided it’s your turn to play with him now. 

Nearing his ear, you whispered, “I want to feel every,” you hands trail down his stomach, “ridge of you,” now at the edge of his track pants, “inside me,” he feels your fingertips shadowing over his, “as your cock bruises my cervix for a week,” as you grab his dick.

“Hgnh, YN…” you heard him moan into your ear. The temperature rising after hearing his voice become an octave deeper saying your name, “Where’s--,” you knew what he meant. 

“The l-last door,” he kept grinding into you as he worked on your boobs again, “d-down...Mmm...the hall..ah!” At that moment, Tobio reached under your skirt and rubbed through your underwear. 

Finally knowing his destination, he lifted you with your legs wrapping around him as he kicked your slightly opened door to your room. At the soft bounce of your bed, you can see the moonlight illuminate on Tobio as he hurriedly took off his clothes. The shadows intensifying the curves of his abs and pecs. The moonlight highlighting the buff muscle on his arms and...his thighs.

Practically salivating at his sculpted body, you hear him chuckle a little before saying, “You like what you see?”

Confidence and heat now pumping through your veins, you got on your knees before slowly wiggling out of your skirt, giving him a show of your wet, laced underwear. 

“Do you like what you see,” you questioned as you propped your hands on his shoulders. 

“Yes, very much,” he smugly said. 

Tobio and you were now heavily locking lips. All the while, two of his cold rough fingers slipped through your underwear, being slicked up by your wet arousal. 

“Ahh...Tobio, please….I need you….inside,” your breathily moaned. 

Grunting at your plea, he quickly ripped off your underwear so that you both can clearly see the pool of your arousal staining it in the center.

Shoulders pushed down on the comforter, you gazed up at the lusted blue eyes. You both were panting and gleams of sweat could be seen glistening from the moon’s light. 

“Do you still want to,” Tobio asked again, with more seriousness than ever. 

“Yes, I want you Tobio,” as you pushed back his bangs that were dangling above you. 

Smiling at your response, he locked lips with you again. This time with so much love and passion knowing that you guys can finally be together after so many agonizing years. 

Distracted with his lips, Tobio used his hand to guide himself at your entrance. Feeling the tip, you both looked at each other one last time for approval before you gave him a nod. In your quiet room, you can hear the sound of your arousal gliding his cock inside you while Tobio huffed into the crook of your neck. Grabbing his shoulders and shutting your eyes, you can feel the girth of him widen you more and more, “T-tobio you’re,” your moan was caught in your throat, “so--” that’s when you felt the tip poking at your cervix, “...b-big”

Hearing your confession, you can feel the smirk grow on his face. But then you hear him let out a strangled grunt, “And you’re,” he grunts again, “shit...too t-tight…”

As you adjusted, Tobio used everything in him to stay still at your fluttering walls. You signaled him by nodding your head that you’re ready.

Tobio started at a slow pace, which slightly burned, that is until pain turned into heated neediness. Whimpering for Tobio to “go faster” the room was filled with your hitched wining and his hot panting on your collarbone. Your walls constricted around him, making you feel every vein and curve of his. The soft patting of the bed and wall only increased with Tobio’s need to hear more of your voice. 

So he took one of your breasts into his mouth and started flicking his tongue on it. The other hand which was gripping your hip was traveling down south. Through your folds, his thumb met with your sensitive nub. He began to make figure eights resulting in a rush of pleasure go through you. Shivering at it, Tobio’s tongue stopped for a second. He felt you tightening around him, making him release a deep throaty moan, “Anghh, Y-YN…”

Hearing his panting and increased pounding against your tightening muscles, you gripped his shoulders and arched your back when Tobio gave an extra hard thrust making you feel it all over the inside of your pelvis. 

“Nghh, I’m gonna---” you moaned until you hitched your breath because Tobio began pressing harder figure eights against your nub and he started to suck to bruise the junction of your shoulder again.

“I-I know, baby, just,” he let out a hot release of breath when you thrusted up to meet your needs.

“Tobio, I-ahh…!,” you couldn’t finish your sentence because Tobio used both his hands to lift your waist against him. Unfazed by his own need to have you released first, his dick was able to reach inside you in new depths you never thought were there. 

“I need you to cum first, princess,” he grunted as he brought you to him in a new angle.

With his bruising grip at your sides, your hands clawed and clenched at your sheets. You needed something to ground you as Tobio kept railing into you. The sound of skin slapping against each other and the feeling of your breast moving in rhythm of his thrusts pushed you at the edge.

“I can feel you almost s-snapping YN,” Tobio looked down at you, sweat shining on his forehead. With his shit-eating grin he continued, “Princess, I need you--ngh-- to cum now…” 

At this, everything just broke inside you. Your body released everything that was pent up resulting in a shake go up your spine. On Tobio’s end, you had a death-grip on him, your walls were so tight and were milking him of his impending orgasim. Your walls pulsing in waves. No longer able to hold it, Tobio released a guttural moan while leaning forward, as his warm cum splattered your walls white. Still riding out both your highs, you guys caught your breaths. 

Sitting back up on his heels, Tobio slowly pulled out from you. You wincing and clenching at the emptiness, and him hissing at the loss of warmth. Looking down at your womanhood, Tobio smirks in pride of seeing both your cum leaking out. Proudly, he used two fingers to slide the liquid up from the bottom of your fold, back into your abused hole. 

“Angh! Tobio!” You shouted at him from oversensitivity. He only chuckled at your reaction and leaned forward. He plopped right next to you and brought you up against his broad bare chest.

He kissed the crown of your head. After a few moments of basking in silence you asked,

“So does this mean we’re dating?” cheekily tilting your head up to him.

He scoffed at your question before he looked away with a tint of a blush, “G-go to sleep already.”

You giggle at his reaction knowing well enough what he meant. “I love you too, Tobio,” you said before shutting your eyes. 

Before you fell into a deep sleep you remember his dark-blue eyes gazing at you. 

He quietly said, “I love you too, dummy,” as he stroked the hair of your now sleeping form.

tag: @sugawalmartwobble​ @gulfwanq​