#And like the collections part of this position looks sick but the rest is like whatever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faetreides · 1 month

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summary: feyd rautha x emperor’s afab oldest child!reader

cw: feet stuff, piss kink, implied eventual knifeplay/blood play, cannabalism, arranged marriage, feyd being so weird but reader lowkey loves it, facesitting but the kind where feyd would beg you to break his neck, spanking/mild painplay, very likely ooc feyd since i haven’t seen part 2 yet, use of “princes” and “wife”, wedding hunt and black cum hcs taken from @valeskafics , reader doesn’t really know what’s going on but they’re vibing

wc: 1.4k

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

Collapsing in relief has never been more appealing. You finally have a moment of respite after vigorous and exhausting wedding festivities, and you need to collect yourself. This marriage to the Na-Baron Feyd Rautha Harkonnen was only brought to your attention a week before it would take place.

Surprisingly, you didn’t really mind the man himself. It was just so sudden, is all. During any visits with his family, you had to be mindful of how you reacted to his cocky displays of ruthlessness and violence. Your father would have your head if he saw how tight you squeezed your thighs together or how much you panicked at the thought of leaving a puddle on your throne. Feyd always marked his departure with a cliche kiss to the back of your hand and a hissed promise that you couldn’t make out.

He would protect you at the very least if he didn’t love you. You’re not even sure that you love him, but this shameful crush could grow into something untamable if you lose your footing. Something… unbecoming of a member of the royal family. You wonder if it already has.

The wedding was as grand as could be, glittering decorations and finery followed by archaic rituals to please your in-laws. The Wedding Hunt in particular sent your heartbeat into overdrive, but the satisfaction on your betrothed’s face when he caught his “prize” was intoxicating. Feyd Rautha kisses like he kills, you were quick to discover, fiercely and uncaring of any blood that might be shed.

You’re brought out of your reminiscing by your now husband closing the door to your room behind him. You only have another day with your family before you’re to leave for Giedi Prime. There has hardly been time to get to know the man you will lie beside for the rest of your life, until now.

“Wife.” He bluntly greets you, awkwardly nodding his head in an effort to maintain his “tough” image. You won’t tease him about the barest hint of blush on his cheekbones, but you treasure it nonetheless.

You humor him, “Husband.” Your nod mirrors his and you take a seat at the long table in the middle of the room after Feyd pulls a chair out for you.

This was the next part of the ritual, where the newly married couple must eat a meal that one partner made for the other. It sounds simple enough that you don’t think anything of it.

Feyd makes a gesture and your food is placed before you by one of your family’s servants. They look a bit queasy and green in the face but they’re gone before you can ask if they’re alright.

“I hope you like it, princess.” Feyd says with a barely there smirk, pointing to the… pie in front of you. “I cut down many people for it.”

You raise an eyebrow at that but bring your knife to take a slice of the pie anyway. Upon lifting the piece onto your plate, you notice eyeballs, flesh, tongues, and some sort of black liquid running throughout the filling. You freeze in place, not even meeting your husband’s eyes. One blue eye seems to twitch and the black substance makes a sick sound as you move it around with your fork.

“The other men who your father considered, my concubines….. I actually can’t tell you which of them are in that slice, but they are all there.” He whispers in your ear, having gotten up from his position opposite you to feed you himself.

You respect the ritual despite your urge to throw up, so you swallow what he gives you. He grins, swiping a thumb down to your throat to feel the food travel. He squeezes your cheeks when you’re done, and you open your mouth to show him that you ate it all.

“That’s my princess.” He condescendingly croons, bending down to run his tongue all over your face before standing up and pushing you to lie flat on the cold table. “But I'm afraid that it’s time for me to have my meal.”

Your elaborate wedding gown is slashed to shreds, the cool tip of his blade moving down your flesh until it reaches your lace covered mound. He taps the hilt of his weapon on your hood and unceremoniously tosses it on the floor.

You didn’t expect the reveal of your wedding night attire to be under such unorthodox circumstances, but can you say you expected any of this?

“A worthy bride with a body to match, thank you for this gift, your highness”. He says in a half joking manner, grinning with too many teeth as he runs his hands along the delicate material. He toys with the idea of cutting this little number to pieces too, but your holes are left conveniently exposed. Maybe he’s fallen too in love with it, he’s been in love with you since you met years ago anyway.

The lingerie is a custom designed piece littered with straps and sheer fabric that leave nothing to the imagination. Your tits are accentuated by a seashell-like pattern bra and there’s even a little black bow above your pussy. The frilly strips of material wrapped around your thighs do nothing to keep your curves contained and the tiny tulle skirt frames your ass beautifully.

Your husband drinks in the sight of you before pulling your ankles to rest on his shoulders. You watch in arousal and shock as he broadly licks the sole of your right foot. He groans unabashedly, nuzzling at your heel and then dipping his tongue in the spaces between your toes. You wiggle at the ticklish feeling but you don’t kick him away.

He really gets into it when he starts sucking your toes, bobbing his head and making sure you’re watching as curls his tongue around each one. His eyes roll back in pleasure once he reaches the last toe on your other foot, and drool trickles down your leg when he’s done getting acquainted with the taste of it. He presses a kiss to the top of each toe but then the weird softness is ruined by the bite he adorns your ankle with.

Feyd’s mouth makes a slick popping sound as he pulls away from your feet. You’re at a loss for words when he proceeds to lie down on the table beside you. He gropes your breast quickly and leans over to give you a surprisingly chaste peck. The look on his face is a smug one but his eyes say something unknown to you, soft and obsessive all at once. It’s as if he knows something you don’t.

“Now sit on my face, claim your new throne, princess.”

You don’t know how long he keeps you hostage there, your cunt soaking him as he devours you to the bone. He doesn’t let you become too relaxed, nipping your clit as he sees fit and clawing the skin of your ass. Eventually your gut aches and though at first you think you’re about to cum already, the second heartbeat in your clit feels different. You come to a horrifying realization that you need to relieve yourself.

“H-husband, what the fuck- I… I need to pee.” You’d rather be dead than doing what you are and saying what you are, but nature calls.

“Yes, that’s it.” He growls and digs his nails into your ass, jigging the globes in his hands before sharply slapping them. “Piss all over my face, get me wet with it like a good wife.”

The shriek you let out when you do just that is abhorrent. Your legs shake as you spray hot pee on your husband’s skin, the gold mixing with the white of your simultaneous orgasm as it drips down his body. You try to move off of Feyd but he tightens his grip on your ass and yanks you back down. The sensation of a hungry mouth desperately sucking the fluids from you drives you wild.

“You have…… fuck- y-you have to stop, hah- i’m going to break.” You sob.

He chuckles into your piss covered pussy and then pulls away to speak, “Then break, a wife of House Harkonnen doesn’t need to be put together.”

You think you hear him say something about using his blade on your body later, but that might just be your own perverted idea.

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midastouch-zaza · 9 days

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MR is Ahn Ryujin rival and she absolutely despises him and they became roommates for some reason and she mistreats him and bully him and one day he gets his revenge by fucking her to oblivion

Ahn Yujin. A name that is able to give you nightmares. Even if started as a simple innocent rivalry, things quickly went down. A couple of your success were enough to bring out the worst part of Yujin, who simply decided to make your life an hell on earth.

And because ruining your high school years was not enough for her, she decided to join your same college just to keep bullying; and you discovered that only when she appeared at your door with her luggage and an evil smirk on her face.

The first week was the worst of your life, she was already talking shits about you to everyone she met, and even when you were alone in the room, she would just call you names and do sick pranks...until one day she touched the wrong button.

The only thing that allowed you to always act as a decent human being was sleep, you really needed your hours of rest during night, but this evil spawn just decided to ruin that with a water balloon in the middle of the night.

She was too busy laughing to even notice that you got up with eyes full of hate; she noticed when she felt you pushing her on the floor. "I'm so sick and tired of you, you asshole", you yelled, roughly pulling her hair.

"And what are you gonna do about it, uh?", she teased you with a disgusted look. "I'm gonna make you my bitch", you exclaimed, pulling your pajama pants down and slamming your cock in her face. She was flabbergasted by your reaction.

"What...no...why does a loser like you have such a big cock?", she asked, biting her lips. "You were too busy bullying me to know that, but don't worry, you won't forget after tonight", you grinned at her intimidated face.

"You won't do anyth-", her useless protest was cut off by your cock penetrating her mouth. "Shut the fuck up for once!", you scolded her, starting to fuck her slutty face. Finally you were punishing the girl who ruined your life for so long.

She flipped you off, trying to still act tough, even in that situation, so you just became rougher, pushing your cock way back in her throat. The hand which used to flip you off, was now caressing your thigh.

"Is this all what you got?", she provoked you in a rare moment when she was able to breath. "No, you're right, I can do worst", you agreed with her for once, immediately starting to fuck her mouth. For being your hater and bully, Yujin seemed to enjoy that rough treatment a bit too much.

You could swear that she had heart eyes while being choked by your shaft. She didn't miss to gulp down all the seed you released inside her throat. "Fine, you have a great dick, but you still are a loser to me", she tried to keep composure, even with her face dirty of cum and saliva.

She tried to get on her feet, but you kept her down, or better, you even brought her to the ground. "I don't have finished with you yet, whore. You have years of bullying to deduct", you warned, taking off her pants.

"Tsk, whatever, I'm sure you can't even make me cum", she teased, not trying to stop you and acting bored. Her attitude changed soon enough, she just needed to feel your girthy cock slammed inside her pussy to show her naughty side.

"Fucking hell...I was just surprised...it doesn't feel good at all", her lies were debunked the moment you started thrusting inside her. "Stop lying, bitch, you love it", you told her, chuckling at the moans that she was trying so bad to hold.

But she couldn't escape the truth, you were fucking her so good in the mating press position. "It's... ahhh...not true", she lied once again, so you harshly slapped her ass and her body told the truth on her place, with her pussy clenching hard around your roaming cock.

"No...ahhh...you can't make me cum...ahhh... you're just a stupid loseeeeeh", her curse was stopped by your hands pulling powerfully her hair, collected in a loose ponytail. She sticked her tongue out, her eyes rolled back, you could clearly see that in the mirror near you two.

"So, what were you saying?", you asked, keeping your grip on her hair tightly while keeping to pounding her pussy. "I...I...I love this cock, you already made me cum twice, please keep using me", she begged in ecstasy, totally surrendering to the pleasure.

And you did. You kept using her pussy until the second orgasm arrived, filling her inside with your white and warm semen, making your ex-bully melt on the floor. But you were not done, so you rolled her on her back.

"I wanna see your face while you become addicted to my cock", you said against her lips. She even tries to kiss you, but you avoided that, keeping her head against the floor, placing your hand on her neck.

"Don't you even try, whore, you're just my sexual toy from today, nothing more", you said with anger, reprising to fuck her sensitive pussy. "I'm sorry, I'm just a dumb slut for your cock", she cried in pleasure, her legs placed around your waist.

You spat on her face and she opened her mouth to take it. "Thank you, I'm not worthy", she mumbled, totally drunk on pleasure. From there your cock kept to ravage her until her womb could not take more cum.

That night you went to sleep again and Yujin simply stayed on the floor, too exhausted to even get up. But from the next day she would have been always attached to you, acting like a needy puppy, even sleeping in your same bed. You still hated her, but you were not going to refuse a bitch to use always ready to be used.

#kpop smut #kpop thoughts #girl group smut #kpop x male reader #girl groups x male reader #ive smut #ive yujin #ive x male reader #yujin smut #yujin x male reader #izone x male reader #izone smut #izone yujin

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undecidedravenclaw · 4 months

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Looking After You || D.M x reader

A/n: I apologize I'm using my phone en so I can't make a real title also trigger warning this deals with depression, eating disorder and just lack of self care but I hope it can provide some comfort xoxox

"Please drink some water. You need to hydrate." Draco voice gave an almost pleading tone as his eyes stare into yours before glancing at the glass in front of you still full of water. "I'm not thirsty."

"May I have your hand?" He asks politely and you thinking nothing of it, offer it to him as your eyes study the table in front of you. He turns your hand over and you feel a soft pinch as your skin was being pulled. You look over at him with furrowed eyebrows, "You're dehydrated." He was testing how soon your skin returned back to its position.

You tug your hand back, keeping it at your chest as you look at him slightly pissed off that he even had the nerve to trick you into letting him see how your body was being affected by your choices.

"I'm fine." You lie, turning your attention back to the table. "Bullshit." He sneers and you roll your eyes, collecting your books that were beside you on the bench and got up, only leaving Draco to stand up as well.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Somewhere where I can be alone." You huff, slightly glaring at him and race to the girls bathroom.

You let out a breath as you lean against the wall, staring at the bathroom floor. You didn't want to be rude to the only person that was looking after you, but you felt smothered. You felt like this was your issue only and no one needed to be bothered.

You walk over to the sinks, sitting the books down in the empty basin before looking at yourself in the mirror. It had only been a few weeks but you could notice of a slight difference in your appearance. Your cheekbones were sticking out more and your skin looked tighter. But your eyes looked so tired and bags were developing along with turning into a grey color.

You felt out of it, every few moments or so you would have to blink and focus to not faint, your fingers gripping the sink like you would fall if you didn't. You felt weak and oh, the pain in your stomach from restricting.

You didn't mean for it to go this far.

But it did, and it was getting addicting.

And the sick twisted part of you felt almost proud when you saw Draco's worried expression.

"Y/N? Draco's looking for you."

You scoff, rolling your eyes. Of course, he'd send Pansy in after you.

You spin around and look at her, crossing your arms over your chest. "I'm not going out there."

"So, what? You're just gonna live in the bathroom for the rest of your life instead of talking to him?"

"Maybe." It was an immature response, but you felt the need to be stubborn. You couldn't bring yourself to see what he would say and even though he was yours, you felt like there were some secrets and things you needed to deal with yourself.

"Bloody hell, Pansy- out." Draco orders, storming into the bathroom with fire in his eyes as he nods towards the exit at Pansy. She didn't need to be told again and gave her a small sympathetic smile before walking out.

You stood there and look at him as he waits for the bathroom door to close. He turns to you and his eyes narrow, "What do you think you're doing, huh? Think I wouldn't have noticed?" He takes a few steps towards you and you took a few back which made him stop but his eyes were heavy with worry and anger as he looked at you.

It seemed like being angry and playing dumb was your only strategy, "What are you talking about?"

He scoffs, rolling his eyes as he looks at the corner of the room. "You're not that slick and apparently you operate on patterns." He walks over to one of the counters and leans coolly against it crossing his arms.

"I'm fine. I wish you would mind your business." You spat, getting ready to grab your books once more but he crosses the room and stands right in front of you.

"You are my business, but it seems like you have forgotten, maybe the lack of food and water has been affecting your ability to remember simple things." He spoke with such venom but anyone who knew Draco knew that he had a problem showing affection due to his parents and had to lace it with such aggression so that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable.

"Oh, fuck off you asshole." You spun quickly grabbing your books but then you felt pressure against your body and next thing you knew you were pinned against the sink as he held your wrists down.

You lock eyes with each other and at that moment you were ready to just swing. You tried to raise your hands but he was much stronger and kept them down as he stared darkly into your eyes.

"If I was such an asshole I wouldn't be worried about you." He stated and then after a moment his expression softens ans he releases yor wrists.

You sigh, rubbing your wrist as it stung from his grip as he paces around the room.

"I just don't get it, why are you treating yourself like this?"

"I don't like how I look." You spoke softly, barely above a whisper as you look down at the floor. His footsteps ceased and he looks at you in shock as he couldn't believe his darling would say something like that about herself.

"But I do.." he says, walking over and this time takes your hand gently and the other one he tilts your face to look at him. His eyes looked glossy before he spoke, "I will always love how you look...I've seen you even in your worse times and I still couldn't believe that I had such a beautiful girl."

You blush dodging his eyes and once again take interest in the floor, feeling a bit shy from the words he spoke. "But thats you, Dray."

"I would do anything to make you see yourself the way I see you, I really wish I could...just try for me?" He asks softly, playing with the tips of your fingers before bringing your hand up to his mouth and kisses it.

Maybe you could try for him at least enough to make him not as worried.

"I suppose...."

"Just a little bit, if its calories you're really worried about then have some fruit." Draco suggests as he piles food onto his plate like meat and bread. He had quidditch practice coming up for the day so he was going to need to have as much food as he could stomach.

His idea was good but it was just annoying because you didn't want to eat at all and yet, everything looked mouth watering. Damn you, elves.

"-And water," he added.

You sigh, grabbing some fruit that you liked. One good thing about fruit was that it had water so you were kind of cheating.

"Thank you darling. We'll take small steps so you don't get overwhelmed." He reaches over and squeezes your hand softly before placing a kiss to your cheek, "You got this."

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts #harry potter #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader angst

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boldlyvoid · 5 months

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Bigger Than The Whole Sky | Part 5: Next Chapter

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Summary: Juliette Hale Hotchner is born

Warnings: birth, newborn phase, adjusting to being a family of 4, Aaron thinking about quitting, slight mentions of sex, being sick

Word Count: 4.9k

Masterlist

She lets out the most guttural sob the moment her baby is placed on her chest.

After almost 48 hours of labour, excruciating pain, not being able to eat real solid food, being unable to find the right position to sleep and the pain pushing with every fibre of her being… it all ended with the sound of her daughter's cry and the feeling of her warm, gooey body being placed on her own naked chest.

She’s overwhelmed with love, every hormone known to man rushes through her as she looks down at her daughter. Her. Daughter. It almost doesn’t feel real. She’s shaking with adrenaline, and Juliette is crying too, adjusting to the outside world. Aaron is sobbing, he wipes the tears off his face and leans over to kiss Y/N’s temple, “You did so good.”

“10:21,” the doctor announces and she finally snaps back into reality.

“I did it. Holy shit, I did it?” She honestly can’t believe it.

The nurses intervene and start to wipe the gunk off Juliette, her doctor is still between her legs waiting for her to pass her placenta, there’s so much going on in the room but all she cares about is her baby. She hasn’t really gotten a good look at her yet, she’s just cuddled into her chest, listening to her mom's heartbeat through her skin, collecting warmth and calming down. Two warm blankets are wrapped around them, Aaron places his hand on the blanket covering Juliette's back, gently rubbing the fabric with his thumb.

Once everything is said and done, the room calms down a lot. Juliette isn’t crying anymore, she simply makes little coos and grunts as she blinks into the new world. Aaron’s got his head on Y/N’s shoulder, looking down at their little girl, he studies her eyes, her cute little nose, the way she keeps licking her lips. He imitates her, speaks to her softly, and tells her he loves her over and over. “She’s so beautiful…”

“I want to see her,” Y/N says, getting the attention of the nurse. “Can we do all her stuff now so I can hold her longer?”

“Absolutely, we can. Come on Dad, you can help me with this,” she cheerfully takes the blankets off Y/N and carefully picks up the baby. “Does she have a name already?”

“Juliette,” they say in tandem.

The nurse lays her down in the incubator and turns on its weighing feature, she has Aaron cut the cord closer to the clip, and begins taking her measurements all while checking her APGAR score. She watches from the bed as she checks things off on a clipboard and adds a security bracelet to her ankle.

“She’s big mama, 8 pounds on the dot…” the nurse turns back to her with a smile. “20 inches too, holy moly.”

“I had a feeling she’d be tall, her brothers 10 and already almost 5 feet,” Y/N says from the bed, watching on with awe, wishing she could stand and be there, right there… she wants Jack here too.

Once they get her settled in a diaper and swaddled in a little pink blanket, they bring her back over to her mama. Aaron places her carefully in her arms and smiles. “Look how Beautiful she is.”

“When are you going to call Jess?” She asks. “I want Jack to come see her soon and to get her picture taken before she starts to change too much.”

“She won’t change too much for the next few days,” the nurse teases with a smile. “Her swelling will go down and the colour will change in the next day or two, but she won’t look different for at least the next month.”

She lets out a sigh of relief, holding Juliette out in front of herself so she can get a better look at her. “She’s so beautiful already.”

Aaron sits beside her, a little more than half his ass is on the bed, he steadies himself with his foot flat on the floor. He leans into her, resting his head on her shoulder, “She looks so much like you.”

Juliette starts to blink, her eyes finally adjusting to what it’s like to be outside of the womb, she squints because of the lights, but she looks at her dad. “She knows your voice,” Y/N whispers, trying not to cry but she’s so overwhelmed she could cry for the next 4 days if you let her. “Keep talking to her.”

Y/N bends her knees and keeps her feet flat on the mattress, she rests Juliette there in the crease between her two thighs and Aaron starts to talk to her some more.

“Hi Juliette,” he says with the same voice he’d used to talk to her belly for all these months. “Hi sweetheart, it’s me, your dad.”

Juliette looks at him, sticking her tongue out, she starts to lick her lips along with her blinking, she’s becoming more aware, and she’s getting hungry too. She wiggles her arms out of the blanket and Aaron reaches out for her hand, her whole hand grips his index finger and he smiles so big. “You’re so pretty, so much prettier than I ever imagined. I can’t believe you’re here, sweetheart.”

She starts to fuss a little so Y/N brings her back to her chest and lets her settle there. Once she feels her mom's warmth and hears the beat of her heart, she coos and closes her eyes again, full of relief, she feels safest there. Aaron holds his hand on her back, caressing her with his thumb, the three of them are silent, content, and beyond happy.

This time last year she thought she’d never be a mom. She had almost given up… on everything. In just a week it would be 1 year exactly since Peter punched her in the face. A year since she ran to Aaron for help. A year since she moved out. And in 2 months it’ll be a year since she got divorced and Aaron asked her out. And in 3 months, a year since she and Aaron made a baby. The very baby she’s holding right now. Her baby.

“I can’t believe I made her,” she whispers. “She grew inside me? Everything about her comes from us… she’s so absolutely breathtaking.”

“I know,” he smiles, turning his head just to kiss her cheek. He rests his forehead against her temple. “I love you so much, this is the best thing that could’ve ever happened to me.”

“Thank you,” she smiles at him, her heart is so full and warm that she feels like she could melt away. “Thank you for her, thank you for taking care of me, thank you for making this a lot easier than I thought it would be…. I love you so much.”

He kisses her again, presses his lips against hers and breathes her in, staying there for a few seconds before he peppers more kisses to her lips, and then her forehead. She leans into him, resting her head on his shoulder, holding her little girl against her body, this is the life she always wanted.

—

When Jack shows up, he pushes the door open and walks in slowly, “hi,” he whispers.

“Hey,” they welcome him at the same time and Aaron gets up to walk over to him and wrap him up in a big hug. “How are you, buddy?”

“I’m good, is she here?” He says, peeking past his dad to look at Y/N on the bed.

From the doorway, Mel, Jess’s girlfriend has her camera out, ready to take a slew of photos of this family’s first meeting.

“Come here,” Y/N beckons him over.

Jack is quick to her side, standing on his tiptoes as she tilts the baby upwards so he can get a better look at his sister. “She’s so tiny and cute,” he whispers.

“Isn’t she?” Aaron smiles, placing his hand on Jack’s back. “Do you want to hold her?”

“Can I?” He looks from his dad back to Y/N, eyes wide with excitement.

They get him settled in the little chair and he sits with his arms out the way he’s been taught to hold babies. He’s absolutely beaming with excitement, kicking his feet as they dangle above the ground. Aaron takes the baby from her arms and carefully puts her in Jack's arms, supporting her head as he kneels down to Jack's level. He’s gobsmacked, jaw dropped as he looks at her in awe and all they can hear is the camera clicking with each beautiful photo Mel takes.

Jack tears up, having to remove one of his hands from hiding her to wipe his face and cover his eyes with embarrassment.

“Oh, Jack,” Aaron’s emotions get the better of him as well, making him tear up as he takes over holding her securely in Jack's lap.

“I love her so much,” he choked out, face red and wet as he moved his hand out of the way. “Can you take her off for a second?” He asks.

“Yeah?” Aaron stands and cradles her in his arms once more.

Jack jumps off the chair and rushes to Y/N’s side, pulling her in for a hug, “thank you.”

She scoots over a bit and pulls him up into the bed with her so he can snuggle into her side. Face buried in her shoulder, he shakes while he cries, bringing her to tears alongside him. She rubs her hand over his back and lets him cry, “I love you, Jack… thank you.”

“for what?” He asks, pulling back to look at her.

“I always wanted a son,” she whispers. Holding his cheek in her hand, she smiles at him. “Even if I never had a baby of my own, loving you these last 10 months has changed my life.”

“As much as I miss my mom… I’m really glad I have you now,” he whispers right back.

She kisses his forehead and pulls him in for another hug. Aaron's standing right there, his little girl is secure in one arm while he uses his free hand to wipe the tears off his face. Jess places her hand on his back, soothing him as she peaks in at her new little niece.

“She is so beautiful,” Jess agrees.

“Thank you,” he smiles. “She’s all Y/N.”

“She has Jack's little baby nose though,” she swoons, hand on her chest, remembering him as a baby.

“Can I get one of all of you?” Mel asks.

“Yeah, come here,” Y/N beckons him over.

Aaron places Juliette in her arms, Jack leaning on her shoulder as he looks down at his sister. Aaron stands beside the bed, smiling as the pictures are taken. They get a few, some with Juliette just in her arms, one with her in Jack's and possibly Y/N’s favourite photo that’s ever been taken.

All their hands resting on Juliette's tummy, her small hand slipped out of her swaddle and resting on top. All 4 of their hands together, two families become 1 right in front of their eyes. The amount of love in the room is palpable even without their faces in frame.

—

When they bring Juliette home from the hospital a few days later, she’s exhausted but also so excited. The team wasn’t home when she was born, and they never had the chance to make it to the hospital to see her during visiting hours. Penelope was able to come by after work, she brought flowers and balloons and unbeknownst to Y/N, asked for a key to their house to set up a coming home banner and fill their freezer with meals.

She sets up flowers in the kitchen, and she has all the cards from people in the office set out on their kitchen counter. Then, in the living room, there are 4 wrapped presents sitting on the coffee table as well as a yellow gift bag stuffed with pink tissue paper.

“What the heck is this?” Y/N asks Aaron, “Did you guys plan this out?”

He sets Juliette's car seat down on the couch, nodding, “I might’ve forgotten to put your push presents in the car during all the chaos when your contractions started so I had her come set this up for me.”

“Presents, plural?” She teases. “You didn’t have to?”

“I know but I wanted to. I went online and looked up some sentimental gifts and there were too many good options so I got you a few,” he explains. “And then the gift bag is from the team.”

“I want to see that one first,” she says, reaching out for it before taking a seat while Aaron works on getting Jules out of the car seat so he can snuggle her again. He loves seeing Y/N hold their baby, he knows how long she’s waited for this so he doesn’t interject or ask to hold her too often, but when she’s busy or needs a minute, he’ll take all the time he can get.

She pulls the tissue paper out of the bag quickly, she feels around inside the bag for a card first but there isn’t one so she pulls out one of the gifts. It’s a photo album with “The Hotchner’s” written on it. Inside, however, the first few pages are full of memories. From handwritten notes of how the team realized she was pregnant before she announced it, the first ultrasound photo she got, photos of her at work with her feet up and all her snacks… and the cutest photo of her and JJ with their bumps touching. It’s so sweet. And then there’s a page full of photos from her baby shower and then the photos with Juliette are already printed and laid out. There’s a whole page of Jack with her, crying and smiling and so, so happy to be a big brother. The photo of all of them smiling, all their hands together and the first photo Penelope has with her first ever god-daughter.

She cries the whole time she flips through the book. It’s just so perfect and sweet and everything she ever wanted. But the next gift… that’s where it gets good.

Inside the bag, there’s another box with a piece of paper taped to it. The paper reads, ‘for adding new memories to this book with ease’ and when she peels it off, she sees that the box holds a Polaroid camera.

“Oh my god?” She’s so overjoyed, that she holds the box close to her chest. “This is going to be so amazing! I’ve wanted to do photos of her each month to show her growth and everything, this is perfect!!!”

The last thing in the bag is about a dozen cartridges of film so they’ll be able to take photos for months. She’s quick to take the camera from the box, stuff it with film and point it at Aaron as he holds their daughter close to his chest. He smiles and blinks slightly after the flash but she gets a perfect picture of them. “I’m going to kiss Penelope on the mouth next time I see her, I swear, this is the most perfect gift ever.”

“I’m pretty sure it was also Derek's idea… but yeah, you can kiss Penelope,” he teases.

“I’m not actually going to kiss her,” she looks at him like ‘come on?’ But she smiles, so, so in love with him. “What one of yours should I open first?”

“That big square one,” he points.

The wrapping paper is cute, light pink with darker pink hearts all over it. She takes off the cute little bow and runs her finger over where he signed them all with a sweet smile. She’s so appreciative, these are so cute and she loves them no matter what is behind the wrapping paper.

Under the wrapping paper, it looks like 4 books in a sleeve, only the first two books have names on them. She pulls Jack's out to see it’s a memory organizer. There are drawers for important things, like their hospital bracelets, hat and socks, their umbilical cord stump and the trimming of their first haircut. And at the bottom, there is a bigger drawer for documents. Jack's things are already in his own, Aaron put it all together before wrapping it up.

“Juliettes only has her pregnancy tests in it,” Aaron shares before she can even say anything.

“These are so cute? Why did you get 4?”

“Well, I didn’t want them to be sold out or discontinued if we have more kids, I want them all to have one,” he explains, the sweetest smile on his face.

“You want 2 more?” She teases. “I mean, give me a couple weeks but we can start churning them out quickly.”

“Funny,” he shakes his head, not thinking she’s serious.

“I’m not kidding,” she stares him down. “We can have them close together, they’d be good friends and I could do back-to-back maternity leaves… it would be cool.”

“You seriously want to get pregnant again this soon after?” He can’t believe it.

She nods, “I have heard about people who have a baby in their 30s and then go infertile right after, so honestly I’d rather just try right away and keep trying until it happens.”

“Okay…” he’s a bit hesitant. “Can we just wait like 3, maybe 4 months? Get used to life with her and get her settled and on a schedule and everything before we change everything again? I want her to have her moment to shine. I want to shower her in love as long as I can before I have to split my heart in half again.”

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely… sorry, I’m not trying to rush I’m just— you know, I’m always going to be worried I’ll never have any more babies even though I just had one,” she rationalizes. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he assures her. “You want a big family, I want a big family, but we can wait a bit. Even if we have to eventually go do IVF like JJ and Will, it’ll be okay.”

She moves over on the couch, closer to him and he leans in closer to her so they can share a quick kiss. She presses her lips against his, breathing in deeply through her nose as the kiss lingers and then she pulls back with a smile. “Thank you for my first present.”

“Am I getting a kiss for each one?” He teases.

She nods, “That can be arranged.”

“Open whatever you want next,” he nods towards the table.

She goes for a smaller one, it looks like it could be a jewelry box for a bracelet or necklace… as she peels the wrapping off, she’s right. It’s dark blue velvet, soft and beautiful without any logo on it. That means it might be a custom-made piece. She cracks the box open, a little light turns on to make it shine inside and her jaw drops. It’s a beautiful necklace with 4 stones on it.

Her birthstone is in the middle surrounded by topaz and citrine for Aaron and Jack as well as a sapphire for Juliette. It’s beautiful. She’s quick to take it from the case and open the clasp. She puts it on herself and readjusts it, holding the stones in her hand as she turns to him. “This is so beautiful.”

“I thought you’d like it,” he smiles. “I’ll get more stones added for the others before they come.”

“You’re too good to me,” she shakes her head, unable to stop smiling as she leans in for his second kiss. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he smiles right back against her lips.

Her next present is an odd shape, he clearly wrapped them all himself and this one is… interesting. She pulls the wrapping apart to reveal a purse— no, a diaper bag. A very stylish, black leather diaper bag. “Holy shit?”

“It’s nice isn’t it?” He brags. “I also got that in LA, and kept it at the office until last week when our leave started.”

“I love it,” she says, looking inside at all the pockets and how deep it is. “I’m going to use this all the time.”

“And it’s one I wouldn’t mind taking around when it’s just me and Julie going out,” he smiles.

She gives him a third kiss and then kisses Julie on the head, “Your daddy is going to look so snazzy with this new diaper bag.”

“Okay, open the last one,” he laughs, pointing at the final gift.

It feels like a shirt or something made of fabric wrapped up in gift paper. She slowly peels it open and her heart almost stops. It’s a baby dress that looks exactly like her baby shower dress. It’s exactly the same just tinier. “Aaron?” She says with tears streaming down her face, “Oh my god?”

“I got them together,” he smiles. “I knew you’d want to match. We can do the next photoshoot in them. I know you’ll want to take some photos every few months.”

“Well, it helps having a photographer in the family,” she smiles, wiping her tears. “Aaron, these are the best gifts… but nothing is better than her and that little boy you share with me.”

—

The first week flies by and before she knows it, it’s 10:21 am on the 13th again and she’s had this baby girl in her arms for 30 days. The best Month ever. Sure, she hasn’t really showered and there’s currently puke on her shirt and she smells like spoiled milk… but she’s never been happier.

And Aaron loves it.

Aaron, who wakes up at night to change Julie and gives Y/N time to wake up before he hands her the hungry baby. Aaron, who makes her snacks and brings her breakfast in bed and keeps the house clean. Aaron, who brings Jack to school during their morning nap time, and never forgets to pack him a perfect lunch. Aaron, who snuggles his little girl so mommy can have a few moments of peace, be it in the shower or at the grocery store. Aaron, who’s replaced his weekend run with a daily walk with his little girl in the stroller.

He loves it so much she’s worried that he won’t want to go back to work… and he’s been talking about it.

They’re lying in bed, Juliette asleep between them while they watch TV on the lowest volume possible. He looks down at her and then at Y/N with a smile, “I love this.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, “and I think I’m done… with work. I felt so awful when I couldn’t do this for Jack. I had a week off, Haley assured me she was good being a stay at home mom when I went back and then the more I missed, the worse I felt—

“But Jack doesn’t remember, he didn’t even know you missed so much,” she assures him. “He thinks you’re Superman. He loves knowing you save people… but if you wanted to stop, you’re more than allowed to.”

“The first time Dave retired, he was my age,” he explains. “I think I want to take time off to be a family and when they’re in college, maybe I can go back? Or maybe I could teach?”

“Whatever you want to do, we can make it work,” she agrees, with no problem. None at all. She’d actually love to have him home. “Although, that will be in 18-24 years…”

“24?” He asks, confused.

“I want more kids, you would go when all of them are in college, right?” She teases.

He laughs, “Yeah… if I get antsy I can teach early. Or I could go back to being a lawyer. I could do family court or small claims, or teach law?”

She nods, “That sounds fun too. You’ll find something to fill your time with.”

“Are you going to go back to work?”

She shrugs, “If I wanted to be a stay-at-home mom, would you mind?”

He shakes his head, “not at all. And the same thing goes for you, when you find another thing to fill your time while they’re all at school, I’ll be fully supportive.”

She leans in and kisses him, “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” he reminds her. He thanks her every day for creating another little life with half his DNA for him to love for the rest of eternity.

“Now, the big question… What are we dressing her as for Halloween?”

—

Before they know it, it’s Christmas.

November flies by so quickly, they have Jack’s birthday, Henry’s birthday, and Aaron’s birthday all within a week. They have a huge party at a trampoline park for Jack, they go to JJ’s for Henry’s and they meet her mom and their babies get to spend some time together, getting to know one another before little Michael starts coming over for regular playdates now that his mom has gone back to work.

But for Aaron’s birthday… Aunty Penelope and Uncle Derek take both kids out for lunch and time at the park so Mommy and Daddy get some alone time. Some very much-needed, loud and obnoxious alone time.

Now, she’s standing in the kitchen at Derek's new place, holding her baby while the adults talk about work and what they’ve missed. They hired another person, Matt Simmons, who has taken over the empty spot JJ left while filling in for Derek who is filling in for Hotch. The team is pretty stacked now, especially with Spencer back on his feet and at work every day.

Savannah, Derek's girlfriend, takes a Mac and cheese out of the oven and places it on the countertop and a whiff of it heads Y/N’s way. She doesn’t like it. Something in it makes her stomach turn, she hasn’t felt this way in a while… she hands Aaron the baby, “I’m sorry,” is all she can say before running to the bathroom.

“Oh no,” Aaron’s face drops when he remembers the last time this happened.

“What, is she okay?” Derek worries.

“I’ve got her,” Penelope takes Juliette right from his arms. “Go see if she’s okay.”

“She is,” he says while handing her the baby. “I think we fucked up… oh my god.”

“What?” Derek still doesn’t get it.

“Oh my god,” Savannah and Penelope say at the same time.

“We were so used to not using protection while pregnant that… that we didn’t on my birthday,” he explains, there’s no use being secretive when the women already guessed. “Normally, it’s just boxed Mac and cheese that makes her sick when she’s pregnant, but I’m gonna—” he points to the bathroom and follows after her.

He knocks on the bathroom door and she groans, “What?”

“It’s just me,” he says while walking in. “Are you okay?”

She’s hugging the bowl, wiping her face with toilet paper. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he assures, kneeling down to rub her back. “I should be sorry, I didn’t even think about putting on a condom, it’s been a year and we never have so—

“Oh my god?” It clicks for her.

“Yeah,” he manages to laugh. “We’ll probably have two under two this time next year.”

She starts to cry, overjoyed, “Oh, my god?”

He pulls her in for a hug just as someone knocks on the door, “I have some of these,” Savannah says, tossing a pink little square under the door. “I have a box of like 100 for how many times my period is late by like a day and I freak out. They’re pretty reliable but if you need another, let me know!”

“Thank you!” They call back. Aaron reaches for the packet, tearing it open while she gets up and starts pulling her pants down.

He hands her the little test while she sits down and starts to pee. She gets it under the stream for a few seconds all while he gets some toilet paper to place it on. “It should take a few minutes,” she starts to explain but he’s already watching the lines appear.

“oh no, you’re super pregnant,” he says with a laugh. “Holy shit, that’s a dark second line.”

“It’s been, what? A month and a bit since your birthday?” She asks, forgetting how much time has passed. “I didn’t think anything of it, my period hasn’t come back while breastfeeding anyway?”

“And you were complaining the milk had changed…” he reminds her.

She wipes, she pulls her pants back up and she immediately lunges for him, hugging him so tight. “Oh, this is amazing news, Aaron!”

He laughs, “You always get your way.”

She smacks his arm as she pulls back, “You’re the one who knocked me up.”

“You’re the one who arranged to have the kids go to Derek’s for my birthday,” he teases right back. “But We wanted this. This is what we needed.”

“This is the best Christmas present you could’ve ever given me,” she whispers so she doesn’t cry. Leaning in for a quick kiss, despite being sick. He couldn’t care less. He loved her more than he could ever explain. Maybe even more so, because another little baby he gets to love for the rest of time is growing inside of her once again.

General Taglist

@ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @reidsbookclub @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129 @squishyturtle @katsukis1wife @buckleyhans @mrs-ssa-hotch @ssavanessa22

BTTWS

@14buddy22 @spottedzebrasinpartyhats @mimischaos @rousethemouse

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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artiststarme · 1 year

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Don't Call Me Stupid Part 2

Here is Part 2 of the "Don't Call Me Stupid" story. This fic wasn't originally going to have a second part, I literally wrote Part 1 in fifteen minutes. But everyone seemed really interested in one so here you go! Please leave your thoughts in the comments!

~*~*~*~

Steve must’ve stayed in that position all night, curled up in his bed tangled with heartbreak and hurt. He woke up with a sore throat, dry eyes, and an emotional pain deep in his chest. He thought that Eddie was different from everyone else. Steve thought Eddie understood that he was smart in a different way. Less in book smarts and collecting clues, more in strategizing and connecting with people. For him to call him stupid just like all of the other people Steve had ever been disappointed by hurt him more than he had ever anticipated it could.

Steve needed a break from Eddie, the Party, and Hawkins. He needed time to himself to enjoy being a kid without any judgment or childish name-calling that always hit a little too close to home for him. Maybe it would be a good idea to get out of town for a while. It had been a long time since he’d visited his aunt and uncle in Illinois anyway, he was sure they would let him stay for some time as a vacation of sorts. All he knew was that he couldn’t face Eddie right now and he couldn’t talk about his feelings without sounding like a blubbering idiot.

With his door still locked, he pulled himself off the bed and started packing a travel bag. He didn’t expect to be gone for too long but he definitely needed a few changes of clothes and his hair care products. His mind may be swimming in hurt but there was no way he was going to take it out on his precious hair. He looked around his room one more time before nodding to himself and unlocking his bedroom door. He was good to go.

When he opened his door though, there was an obstacle he hadn’t anticipated. Laying on the hardwood floor of the hallway was Eddie Munson. He too had tear tracks glistening on his cheeks and his hair was sticking up in all directions like he’d been running his hands through it all night. Steve just shook his head at the sight. Eddie had no reason to be crying, he was the one who called him stupid not the other way around.

He tried to step over him as quietly as possible so as not to wake him up. All was fine until Eddie shifted in his sleep. Steve’s shoe got caught on the sleeve of Eddie’s jacket and he tripped which woke Eddie up immediately. He grabbed onto Steve’s legs like a fussy octopus and held on for dear life.

“Steve, don’t go! Please, talk to me!” He pleaded with him desperately.

“No, let go of me. I’m really not in the mood Eddie. I’m so stupid I probably won’t understand what you have to say anyways, right?”

“Steve, please. I’m sorry I called you stupid. It was a mistake, I don’t actually think you’re stupid. You’re the smartest person I know!” He said looking up at Steve with wide, pleading eyes.

Steve whirled around to face him, an angered glare resting on his face. “Are you serious? You’re mocking me right now when you’re trying to apologize?!”

“No! I’m not kidding, Steve! Your mind is amazing. You’re always seeing details that the rest of us miss and you’re always the first to figure out my campaigns even though you refuse to play with us. I’m always in awe of how your mind works, I really did not mean to call you stupid or to hurt you.” His words sounded genuine but they did little to chip at the festering wound Steve had been developing for years.

“Well you did. I’m so sick of everyone calling me stupid or dumb or saying I’m an idiot. I just want people to… be nice to me. The kids always make fun of me and I thought you wouldn’t but then you called me stupid yesterday when you knew it was a sore spot. It’s like you didn’t even care that you were hurting me,” Steve ranted.

“Steve, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was saying and that’s absolutely 100% my fault. You’re not stupid babe and I shouldn’t have said that you were,” Eddie apologized again. He unwrapped his arms from around Steve’s legs and stood so they were eye level with one another.

“Thank you for your apology but I don’t forgive you. You really hurt me last night and I’m done putting up with it. We’ll fix it later but I need some time to think about it on my own.”

Eddie stilled and his eyes filled with tears. “Are you, are you breaking up with me?”

“No, I just need some time alone because what you said really hurt and I need time to deal with that. I’m leaving town but I’ll be back later and we can talk about it then.”

Eddie nodded and pulled him in for a tight hug, a hug which Steve returned. “I am so sorry. Take as much time as you need, Big Boy. I’ll be waiting and when you come back, I’ll fix this.”

With that, Steve pulled away and made his way downstairs without a backwards glance. He could hear Eddie stifling his sobs and if he saw the tears dripping down his face, he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave. Steve grabbed his car keys and locked up his house before he disappeared like he had never been there at all.

As he passed the town limits, he thought about his friends. He didn’t have much in the way of family, his parents never really liked him and his aunts and uncles had other nephews and nieces that would always be placed above him. Steve liked to think that the Party was his family. That Hopper was the caring dad he never had, Joyce was the standoffish step-mom who liked him just fine but had no idea how to parent him, and the kids were all his siblings. He didn’t have many positive influences in the way of family but he was almost certain that good family members didn’t put you down unnecessarily. He understood sibling rivalries and getting on your nerves but that’s not what this was.

They knew he didn’t like being called stupid or having his intelligence (what little of it there was) questioned. He’d told them before, he tried to communicate his feelings like Robin told him to, but it hadn’t worked. Would family members continuously put him down like they did? It might be because Steve’s emotions were so raw but right then it felt like if the Party was a family then Steve was just an outsider doing anything to be a part of it but always falling too short.

He’d go back home eventually, in a week or maybe two. Once he could compartmentalize the hurt and heartbreak, he would go back to Hawkins and talk to the Party about why words hurt. Why the comments about being dumb and stupid and retarded chipped at his heart little by little. But for now, he was going to do something selfish for once and have a short vacation away from it all.

@mycouchismyotherhalf @strangerthingfanfic @bxlthazar @shoujo-goddess @paintsplatteredandimperfect @amoris-no-smut-allowed @just-a-tiny-void

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#He goes back and doesn't end up bringing it up #he doesn't want any of the kids to feel bad or angry at him #so he sucks it up and moves on but every 'stupid' comment breaks him down just a little bit more #Eddie never insults him again and yells at anyone who dares to in his presence #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson

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petitemistletoe · 1 year

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Union

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, Regulus x Reader, James x Regulus

Warnings: angst, homophobia, abuse, outing, pregnancy

Word Count: 5.4K+

A/N: Part 3 to Hate! This is a lot angstier and darker than the last two parts

Regulus had been avoiding you and James like the plague since the night of the concert. You had tried to talk to James about it but once again he had told you he wanted to forget it. You suspected this time around, though, he was more concerned with the idea of Sirius finding out. You were laying in your dark, cool dorm with the curtains drawn in the middle of the day. You had been sick for the past few days, feeling overly nauseous and sweaty. James had stopped by your dorm before Quidditch practice to check on you and ask if you wanted to come but you just shook your head, telling him you would see him at dinner.

You finally pulled yourself out of bed to go to the hospital wing to see if Madame Pomfrey could help you. You stepped into the bathroom to wash your face and saw that one of the other girls had left a tampon sitting on the counter. An icy wave of realization washed over you as you realized your period was over two weeks late. Your period was never late, you had been regular since you had gotten it so this was cause for stress. You made your way down the hospital wing, this time with different intentions. Luckily for you, the hospital wing was empty, only Madame Pomfrey was around, working like a little cyclone.

“Madame Pomfrey?” You cleared your throat.

“Yes!” She turned and gave you a warm smile, “I’ve heard you’ve been a bit under the weather, dear. Why don’t you have a seat?” She pushed back the curtain to one of the beds and gestured for you to sit down. You felt tears start to well in your eyes as you took a deep breath.

“I, um, I think I need a pregnancy test.”

“Can you tell me about your symptoms, dear?” Madame Pomfrey had a neutral expression on her face but you saw the way her eyes widened when you asked for the test.

“I’ve been pretty nauseous these past few days and my period is over two weeks late.” You said, digging your nails into your palms trying to stop tears from coming.

“Alright dear, there could be a number of things causing this but why don’t we give you the test and we’ll go from there.” Madame Pomfrey gave you a comforting pat on the shoulder before disappearing into a cupboard and reappearing with a test. She gave you privacy to take the test and then set it on the counter and told you to wait a quarter of an hour. She gave you a cup of tea and began to sip her own when a group of students burst in to the hospital wing.

“What’s going on?” Madame Pomfrey immediately had her hands on her hips. You quickly shut the curtain and pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear chatter and Madame Pomfrey ordering the students to leave, save for the injured student. It seemed that someone had been the victim of one of Sirius’ famous never ending exploding inkwells and the student could not stop vomiting ink.

“Hold on a moment, dear, this will stop the ink from coming but you’ll need to rest for a few moments to make sure all the ink on your tongue is out.” She handed the student a bucket and made her way back over to you. She opened the curtain only slightly so she could enter and then immediately closed it behind her to preserve your privacy.

“Alright then, let’s look at this.” Madame Pomfrey put her glasses on and then held the test to her eyes. She let out a small gasp before clearing her throat.

“Oh my god,” you said, your heart dropping into your stomach.

“The test is positive. However, you have many options for how you would like to proceed.”

“I think I need to go,” you said, your blood was roaring in your ears, “I need to talk to James.”

“Of course, dear. You will need to meet with a more specialized mediwitch that I can put you and your parents in contact with whenever you need.” Madame Pomfrey smiled at you. You could only nod as you collected your things and pushed the curtain open. You were exiting the hospital wing when someone else threw open their curtain and called,

“Madame Pomfrey I think I’m alright now.” The student stood from the bed and you felt the blood drain from your face. It was Regulus.

“Oh, hi.” He said, looking at you up and down.

“Hi, what are you doing here?”

“Sirius and his exploding ink well nonsense. What are you doing here?” The question was innocent enough but you felt your eyes welling with tears again.

“Hey, hey. What’s going on?” Regulus looked incredibly uncomfortable watching you break down in front of him.

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your eyes and nose, “it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Dear, would you like to keep this? Oh Mr. Black I’ll be with you in a moment,” Madame Pomfrey was handing you the positive test. Regulus looked down at the test and then back up at you and his already pale face became even more devoid of color.

“Thanks.” You said, shoving the test in your pocket and running out of the hospital wing.

You ran out to the Quidditch pitch and laid your hand on your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. You immediately realized what you were doing and your hand shot back like it was on fire. James was finishing with practice and he was on the ground, talking with the rest of the team.

“Hey! Isn’t this a nice surprise.” James said after the team dispersed and headed towards the shower. He hugged you but the smell of his leather gloves and sweat soaked skin was too overwhelming and you immediately turned and vomited on the ground.

“Oh whoa, still not feeling better? Have you gone to see Madame Pomfrey yet?” He asked, handing you his water bottle. You swished out the taste of vomit and spit again.

“Uh yes. We have a problem.” You said, your hand resting on your stomach again.

“Alright,” James chuckled, “you’re freaking me out a little. What are you pregnant or something?” He said it as a joke but his smile dropped when he saw your face drained of color. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” He said, staring at your stomach as if he expected to see the baby kick at that very moment.

“I went to Madame Pomfrey today when I realized that I was two weeks late and I took a test and she confirmed it.”

“Okay, okay,” James ran a hand through his messy hair, “Let’s go talk about this somewhere a little more private. Why don’t we go down to the lake?”

“James,” you put your hand on his chest, “before I go anywhere with you I need you to shower.”

Twenty minutes later you were sipping a cool glass of water while sitting by the Black Lake. You used to love coming to the lake, you and James had many picnics down here, you would run around with your friends down here, you would take walks down here, but now you felt nauseous from the smell of the squid and the scent of James’ body wash.

“This obviously isn’t ideal but you know that I love you and I know my parents would love to have you and while they’ll be a little peeved that this is all happening before we graduate I know they’ll be thrilled to have a little granddaughter or grandson.” James was rambling a bit but he was looking at you with big eager eyes.

“So that’s the other thing,” you said, looking at your lap, “I don’t think it’s your baby.”

“Excuse me?” James looked at you like you were trying to make some weird joke.

“You’ve never cum inside of me. Regulus did that night.” You said, looking down at your feet.

“Oh my god,” James looked sick all over again.

“What am I going to do?” You felt tears pushing at your eyes and you were fanning your face to cool it off before you really burst into sobs.

“Hey,” James grabbed your hand, “it makes no difference to me. That’s my kid in there.” He smiled and put his hand on your stomach. You really started to cry then and you buried your face in his shoulder. He rubbed small circles on your back as you collected yourself.

“There’s another thing,” you said, sniffing hard.

“I don’t know how many more things I can take,” James said with a nervous laugh.

“I think Regulus knows.”

“What do you mean you think he knows?”

“He saw me with the test at Madame Pomfrey’s.”

“Did he say anything about it?”

“No. But if he knows I imagine we’ll hear about it soon.”

“Alright, we should probably head to dinner. Don’t want to raise any suspicion.” James helped you up and together you walked to the Great Hall.

Dinner was a bit of precarious affair. While you usually loved the great selection of foods that Hogwarts displayed for you, you found yourself feeling sick at all the intense aromas. You were able to find a tureen of chicken soup which you sipped with your icy goblet of water.

“Baby, you should eat something more substantial.” James said, trying to offer you a piece of his chicken and mash.

“I’m just so nauseous.” You shook your head, pushing away James’ fork.

“You feeling okay, love?” Remus asked, taking stock of how pale and shaky you seemed.

“Just a little stomach bug,” James responded quickly.

“You’re still sick?” Sirius jokingly held his shirt up over his nose and mouth and scooted away from you.

“It’s just a stomach bug, Sirius.” You rolled your eyes and went back to sipping your soup. James was rubbing your back when you saw Regulus stalk past your table.

“I need to talk to you.” Regulus said, his intense gaze boring into your soul.

“Why?” Sirius asked, looking between you and Regulus.

“We’re, uh, partners in potions,” you said quickly, “it’s about that, right?”

“Yes. Can we talk now, please?” Regulus grabbed you harshly by the forearm.

“Oi!” James immediately shot to his feet, “Don’t manhandle her like that.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just go.” You and James followed Regulus out of the Great Hall. You could hear Sirius saying to Remus,

“They’re all being so weird.”

Regulus insisted on taking you to the room of requirement for ultimate privacy. You were going to protest but the lack of privacy was what caused Regulus to find out about this all in the first place so you figured you didn’t have legs to stand on.

The room of requirement looked like an empty classroom and you didn’t have a clue what made it so special but Regulus was pretty convinced that you didn’t need to cast a silencing charm or anything before diving into your conversation.

“That’s my baby, isn’t it?” Regulus asked.

“In a manner of speaking.” James said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regulus was on guard.

“It means,” You cut James off, “that technically it is your baby. You came inside me the night of the concert. But it’s okay, Regulus, James and I are going to raise the baby like it’s our own child. You don’t need to be involved at all. No one ever has to know.”

Regulus had an odd expression on his face.

“That’s my baby?”

“The baby will be fine as a Potter.” James said stoically. He put his body between yours and Regulus’ to signify the end of the conversation. Regulus nodded at James before lifting his head and marching out of the room.

You didn’t hear from Regulus for two more weeks. You had asked James to avoid telling his parents until you were able to tell your own. How were you even supposed to start? Every time you started penning a letter, you would get to the part where you would tell your parents about the baby you found yourself crumpling the parchment and burning it. You were currently distracting yourself from such a task by laying on James’ bed in the boys dorm and watching Sirius agonize while James was at Quidditch practice. Sirius and Regulus were called home for a funeral of some distant family member and he was going to have dinner with his family for the first time in a very long time.

“I look ridiculous!” He complained, looking at himself in his dress robes.

“You look fine,” you said with a head shake at the same time as Remus who said,

“You do look ridiculous.”

“Oh my god! That’s it. I’m not going.” Sirius flopped down on the bed and covered his eyes with his arm.

“Remus is joking!” You said, moving so you could punch Remus in the shoulder. “You look very handsome, Sirius.” You said with an earnest nod.

“What do I care that some weird racist uncle finally kicked it? Why do I have to go to his funeral?” Sirius groaned.

“Do something!” You begged Remus. Remus sighed and put his hand on Sirius’ arm.

“Stop pouting you big baby.” Remus said, “When you come back I’ll blow you. How’s that?”

“Are you being serious?” Sirius said, sitting up and looking at Remus.

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

Sirius shot up and ran out to meet Regulus in McGonagall’s office.

“I am sorry for your loss, gentlemen,” Professor McGonagall said, holding her dish of floo powder out towards Sirius and Regulus. They both flooed back to the Black Manor for the bleak affair. That evening, Sirius and Regulus were seated at the ostentatious table for dinner with their parents. Luckily for Regulus, Sirius was being his usual ridiculous self, using anything and everything to piss their parents off so the attention was off Regulus. Regulus’ brain was racing. You were carrying his child. He was going to be a father. But did he want to be a father? Did he want James Potter raising his child? Did he want you raising his child? Did raising his child with James mean that he would be able to have sex with James again?

“Regulus,” his father had been calling him for quite some time.

“Yes father?” Regulus looked up at his father. Sirius was staring at Regulus with a strange expression on his face.

“How has Slytherin been doing in Quidditch?”

“Oh, oh. We’ve been doing well. We’re due to play Gryffindor in a few weeks and it promises to be an excellent match.” Regulus said, pushing around the food on his plate.

“Don’t,” Walburga held her hand up to stop Sirius’ retort before he could say it. “Are you alright Regulus?”

“I’m fine.” Regulus brushed off his mother’s comments.

“Are you?” Walburga narrowed her eyes and before Regulus knew what was happening, Walburga had pushed her way into Regulus’ mind. Regulus forced himself to push the interaction with James out of his brain. To erase James from his mind. He couldn’t have his mother knowing about that. Instead his mother saw Regulus with you. And then you telling Regulus about the baby.

“Did you know about this? That mudblood is your friend?” Walburga screamed at Sirius.

“What are you talking about?” Sirius asked, mouth open. He looked at Regulus in confusion.

“Get out, Sirius.” Walburga commanded.

“No! What are you talking about? What is she talking about, Reg?” Sirius looked between Regulus and his mother.

“Just go.” Regulus whispered. Sirius looked like he was going to protest further but he was pulled away from the table by his father. It was just Regulus and his mother at the table. He felt impossibly small.

“You impregnated a mudblood.” Her voice was steely calm.

“Her father is a pureblood and her mother is a halfblood.” Regulus squeaked out.

“A mudblood no less.” His mother pinched the bridge of her nose, “However your brother has proven that he will not produce an heir with the disgusting lifestyle he’s chosen. Your child is the only hope to carry on the Black name. She will have tea with us. Tomorrow. I’ll have Kreacher send an owl to her parents.” Walburga dismissed Regulus and he returned to Hogwarts with a pit in his stomach.

You were on your way to charms when Regulus grabbed you by the forearm and pulled you into a closet.

“What do you want?” You asked, grabbing your stomach. It was an unconscious action but you found yourself doing it more and more often.

“I messed up,” Regulus said, wringing his hands.

“What do you mean?”

“I just…I didn’t know what to do about the baby-”

“Regulus, that’s the whole point. You don’t have to do anything. James and I are going to take care of it. Your family would probably have a coronary about the whole thing and you can barely stand me. It’ll be a little rough at the beginning but we’ll get through it.” You rested your hand on Regulus’ arm.

“So that’s the thing. My parents know.”

“What?” You felt your blood run cold.

“I’m so sorry. But they’ve invited your parents to the Black estate for tea tonight. They want us there too.”

“Regulus,” you were trying to keep your voice level but there was icy sweat rolling down your neck, “I haven’t even told my parents yet. What the hell did you do?”

“Listen, I don’t really know what they want but maybe they’ll have a good idea about what to do. Let’s just hear them out.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “um, until we know more about this situation with your parents, we’re not telling James.”

“I think that’s for the best.” Regulus nodded.

It was difficult to get rid of James that evening. You told him you were going home for the evening to tell your parents about the baby and he had insisted he come with you. You convinced him that it would be better coming from just you and that you would let him come back the next time. You were dressed in your dress robes as you and Regulus used the floo network to enter the Black estate. You wiped your sweaty palms on your dress as you entered the drawing room and took in the bizarre sight of your parents and Regulus’ parents all sitting and sipping tea.

“Hi Mum, hi Dad.” You said, nervously twiddling your fingers. Your parents immediately ran out to embrace you. As you pulled away from them both your father immediately started,

“What the hell is wrong with you? Getting pregnant? We sent you to Hogwarts to study! Not to mess around with boys,” he gestured wildly at Regulus.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Your mother asked, looking at you with a pained expression.

“Obviously that is all moot,” Walburga said, gesturing for you all to sit, “the Black family is one of the oldest and most noble in Great Britain and we will not allow for shame to cloud our reputation. It’s already difficult enough with Sirius. Regulus Black is the Black heir. His child will be the next.”

“I’m sorry,” your father interrupted Walburga, “weren’t you dating James Potter? What happened to him? Kind family, bright future, could keep it in his pants?”

It was interesting the way that your parents contrasted Regulus’. The Blacks were stoic and serious and void of emotion. Your parents were the opposite, louder, more intense, absolutely brimming with emotion.

“Regardless, we have a proposition.” Orion said, looking at your parents warily.

“At that is?” You asked.

“You and Regulus will marry. The ceremony will be next month over the Christmas holiday. Then you will tell the world of your pregnancy two weeks after the wedding and we will announce that baby was born prematurely.” Walburga explained.

“What?” You spat.

“How could you allow such a marriage? She’s not a pureblood! Wouldn’t that hurt the bloodline?” Regulus asked, grasping at anything.

“All documents that would indicate such blood status have been removed.

“We aren’t even graduated from Hogwarts yet! How can we marry?” Regulus asked, his fingers pulling at his hair.

“Surely you think this is a ridiculous idea.” You said, looking at your parents.

“I think given the current situation it would be beneficial for our family to have ties to a family as noble as the Black family.” Your mother said, looking at her lap.

“Oh I’m going to be sick.” You said, your hand over your mouth as you ran from the room. You luckily found a bathroom and were able to stumble in and lean over the toilet just seconds before losing your lunch. You stayed slumped over, vomiting and sobbing, cursing your damn pregnancy.

“Are you alright?” Regulus could be heard just outside the door to the bathroom.

“Peachy,” you replied, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and forcing yourself up. You flushed the toilet and washed your hands and face before opening the door. Regulus’ eyes were rimmed red as if he had been crying too.

“I don’t know what to say.” He said, staring at his feet.

“It’s all your fucking fault.” You spat, “Why did you have to tell them?”

“I didn’t!” Regulus blurted out.

“Excuse me?” You had an eyebrow raised.

“My mother…she’s trained in occumenacy. She knew something was on my mind and she found it,” Regulus’ face was red and he was looking everywhere but at you.

“Oh Regulus,” you shook your head and sighed, “how the hell are we going to tell James?”

“I have no idea.” Regulus’ face went an unnatural shade of white, which was disturbing considering Regulus’ resting tone was already an unnatural shade of white. You both returned to the parlor. There were four sets of eyes watching you and Regulus.

“You understand no one can know about your child until after the wedding,” your father said.

“Yes.” You nodded.

“You will announce tomorrow that you and Regulus are engaged. We will meet again to discuss plans for the ceremony.” Walburga said. She narrowed her eyes at you and said something to you that you could somehow only hear in your own mind: You will produce the finest heir this family has ever seen.

You looked up at Walburga and nodded, icy fear washing through your body. Before she let you go, Walburga made you and Regulus pose for a photo. It was painfully awkward and you couldn’t help thinking about how uncomfortable it would be to spend the rest of your life with Regulus. You supposed, however, it would only be the rest of Walburga’s life. And then you would be able to go back to what you wanted.

You were able to make it back to the girls dorm without running into James. You had no idea how you were going to tell him about this. You loved James more than anything in the world but you weren’t given much of a choice.

You sat down at breakfast in the morning and James immediately was at your side.

“How was it? How did you parents take it?” He whispered. Sirius and Remus looked up at you, trying to make out what James was whispering.

“Not here. Not now.” You whispered back before taking a piece of toast and spreading butter on it.

“Reg had to go back to my parents house last night. Something weird is going on with him,” Sirius shook his head. You tried not to look panicked.

“What do you think happened?” You kept your voice as even as possible.

“No idea. But I think it has something to do with someone I know. My mother said something about my friend.” Sirius shook his head.

“Is he back yet?” Remus asked as the owls flew over dropping everyone’s mail.

“Yeah, yeah. He’s at his table. Do you think he got a howler?” Sirius was sitting straight up and trying to see over at Regulus. You turned as well to look and then you heard,

“Oh my god.” It was James. He was holding open a copy of the daily prophet. On the page was the picture of you and Regulus from last night with the announcement of your engagement.

“What? WHAT!” Sirius ripped the paper out of James’ hand and flicked his eyes back and forth between you and the engagement announcement. The entire great hall broke out in chatter as everyone stared at you and then at Regulus.

“You’re engaged to Regulus? Aren’t you dating James?” Remus asked.

“Yes, I’d quite like to know about this.” James asked. His knuckles were white as he gripped the edge of the table.

“Not here.” You said again, running from the great hall. The marauders followed you back to the Gryffindor boys dorm. You were pacing and wringing your hands as the boys stared back at you. You were about to start when you heard a light knock on the door.

“Who the fuck is that?” Sirius demanded, whipping open the door. It was Regulus. “Oh perfect!” He grabbed Regulus by the forearm and pulled him into the dorm before locking the door and casting a silencing spell. “Talk. Now.”

“So you remember the night of the Queen concert?” You said, wringing your hands again.

“I knew we shouldn’t’ve gone to that concert.” Remus shook his head.

“Well…we all had a bit too much to drink and-”

“You foul little slut! You cheated on James with Regulus?” Sirius snapped. You shot back like you had been slapped. You knew Sirius was upset but he had been one of your closest friends since your first year at Hogwarts. How could he speak to you like that?

“No, not exactly.” James said from his place on his bed.

“What does that mean?” Sirius’ head snapped towards James.

“James, please don’t.” Regulus begged quietly.

“We had a threesome with Regulus. Regulus has been in love with me for a long time. But he messed up and got her pregnant. We told Regulus that we would raise the baby like it was mine. I’m not sure what happened exactly.” James glared at Regulus.

“What the fuck? You had sex with my two best friends?” Sirius turned to Regulus.

“You just called one of your so-called ‘best friends’ a slut.” Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Oh I’m going to kill you.” Sirius lunged at Regulus and Remus and James had to separate the two men.

“Can someone please explain the engagement business?” James demanded. He was holding Sirius back and glowering at Regulus.

“My mother found out and this is what our parents demanded. They thought this is the best way to avoid scandal. They want the child to be the next Black heir.” Regulus said, staring at his hands.

“You told her? You disgusting little slug.” James spat.

“No. He didn’t tell her. Our mother poked through his mind.” Sirius’ rage seemed to have dissipated as he looked at his younger brother in pity.

“So what then? You’re my girlfriend!” James grabbed your hands. “I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I know,” you said, tears running down your cheeks, “but I don’t have a choice.”

“When is the wedding?” Remus asked.

“During the Christmas holiday.” You said, resting your hands on your stomach. James sniffed harshly and stormed out of the room. You moved to follow but Remus rested his hand on your shoulder.

“Let him go. He needs time to process this all.”

“Well, welcome to the Black family.” Sirius said with a sad smile.

The semester ended and you were off to the Black estate with Regulus, your fiancé. Your nausea came and went and the wedding gown Walburga had given you felt very tight. Kreacher had already let it out twice and you were afraid to ask for it to be let out again. Sirius was to be in attendance as Regulus’ best man. James and Remus had also been invited but you weren’t sure if James would be in attendance. You couldn’t blame him. You wouldn’t’ve wanted to watch James marry someone else either. Lily, Marlene, and Mary were not allowed to attend so your bridesmaids were women you really didn’t know. They were all Black sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix. They were both a little frightening and you tried not to speak to them more than you had to.

At your engagement party, you felt yourself getting overwhelmed and you sat on the balcony with your feet dangling over the edge so you could breathe in the cool air outside. James sat down next to you and handed you a glass of water.

“How are you doing?” He asked.

“I’m alright. Surprised to see you.” You said, accepting the water and drinking it gratefully.

“So,” James sighed heavily, “you’re getting married tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I am.” You looked out at the gardens that stretched out behind Grimmauld place.

“I don’t think I ever apologized to you.” James said.

“Apologized for what?” You asked. You couldn’t believe how kind and sweet James was. It was the reason you had fallen for him in the first place.

“I never should have had that threesome with Reg. I put you in this position and I ruined all three of our lives forever.” James hung his head.

“Hey,” you put your hand on James’, “If I didn’t want it, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s a shit situation but things could be worse. And it’s not like we won’t see each other all the time,” your eyes were brimming with tears, “you’re my best friend, James. I love you.”

“I love you too,” James’ eyes were full of tears as well, “I, just, I don’t think I can be there tomorrow. I want to. But I don’t know if I can.”

“I know,” you whispered, “it’s okay.”

“Is everything alright out here?” It was Orion, he was staring at both of you.

“Fine,” you said, sniffing hard and wiping your eyes. You took Orion’s outstretched hand and stood up. “I guess I should go enjoy my party.”

You woke up the next day with a pit in your stomach. You took another pregnancy test, just in case you weren’t pregnant and you could tell everyone to call the wedding off. The test was positive, as you expected, and you were helped into the dress by Narcissa, Bellatrix, and your mother.

“Have you thought about children yet?” Bellatrix asked.

“Don’t be silly, Bella. Her and Reg haven’t even graduated yet. Surely they’ll wait a few years before having kids.”

“Well, who knows. Regulus feels strongly about producing an heir.” You tried to say casually. Your mother shot you a look.

“I’m going to check on your father. I’ll see you in a bit, darling.” Your mother pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving you alone with the Black sisters.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” Narcissa asked, staring down at your stomach.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“No, no. It makes sense. The rapid wedding to a Gryffindor? But you and Regulus look excellent together. And you’ll produce a beautiful heir.” Bellatrix was tracing her finger over your hairline and you had to resist the urge to shiver.

“It’s time,” Narcissa said, the organ playing the beginning notes of your wedding march. Narcissa left first, her arm tucked into Sirius’ elbow. Then it was Bellatrix, who looked a bit odd as she walked Barty Crouch Jr. Then it was you. Your stomach was flip flopping as you walked with your father and mother until you saw James and Remus sitting the back row. A smile spread across your face and you held your head high and regal as you made your way to the alter.

Regulus looked nice in his dress robes with that brought out the deep colors in his eyes. You took his hand as Orion, who was conducting the ceremony, spoke loud and clear.

“Please be seated.” He ran through the standard vows and then what it meant to join the Black dynasty. He talked about blood purity that made your mother shift angrily in her chair and then he stated, “If anyone objects this holy union, speak now or forever hold your peace.” He waited for a few beats before looking between you and Regulus and smiling.

“Now-”

“I have something I’d like to say.” A voice from the back of the room rang out. Everyone turned and you saw the defiant face of James Potter staring back at you.

Taglist:

@skyesayshi, @urdad6900

#James potter #James potter x reader #James potter angst #regulus black #regulus black x reader #jegulus #jegulus x reader angst #regulus black angst

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godesssiri · 26 days

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Thrifting for the ⋆⭒˚.⋆Experience ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Today I saw a reel on Instagram of things that the OP likes to thrift for the experience. I’ve done lists of Décor items I am constantly looking for in thrift stores and Thrift First things I will always try to thrift before I buy new, but that reel got me thinking about the things I buy from thrift stores because the experience of looking for and finding them is so much better than just buying new.

Décor. Yeah, you can go to any number of stores and buy brand new décor items at just about any price point. And I used to do that, but the décor items I bought new in the past have gradually been donated to make space for thrifted treasures. Because the things I bought new had no meaning to me. The vast majority were just pretty things that sat on a shelf and had no emotion attached to them, so it meant nothing to me when I got sick of them and got rid of them. But almost all of my thrifted décor (and as a Maximalist I have A LOT) has memories attached. I could tell you what thrift store I got almost every piece at, if I had a friend or family member with me I could tell you who was with me and their reaction to the thing I picked up. Some of those shopping trips have become family legend which gets told over and over and every time I look at the item involved I experience a fond memory of either finding the item or my loved one telling the story of me finding the item. I remember the thrill of discovery, the triumph if it was a piece I’ve been looking out for, the excitement if it was something I’d never even imagined and now can’t imagine not owning. I’m constantly discovering things that I had no idea I needed in my life until the exact moment I laid eyes on them in a thrift store. I discover manufacturers and artists and art styles I would never have been exposed to otherwise and I have so much fun researching them and discovering more about them. When you buy new décor you rarely feel the need to research and discover who made it and when and why, but when you thrift something amazing it’s part of the fun to do a deep dive and discover something new.

The perfect piece to fit in a particular place or do a particular job. I looked for the right side table for next to my couch for over a year, I could have found one the exact size and shape I needed brand new, but I know I wouldn’t love it a fraction as much. I have so many pieces like that in my home and I just enjoy being able to use these perfect pieces. When you wait and watch and finally find something that just serves your purposes so so well, the whole hunt from beginning (deciding I need a thing to go here and do this) to end (positioning the thing and standing back to admire it) is an experience. You can get that experience buying new, but to me it always feels a bit like cheating – not to mention going the new route will cost a lot more, my solid oak side table was a whole 35 bucks and the fact I got such a high quality piece for so cheap is a part of the experience that still gives me a buzz every time I think of it.

Original art. I love thrift store art so much. Galleries feel inaccessible unless you’re above a certain income bracket. But anyone can have amazing original art if they’re willing to scour thrift stores and build up a collection of things that speak to them. The number of times I’ve stood in the art aisle in a thrift store and tried to talk myself out of buying a piece because I have so much art and I’m running out of walls. But I’ve never regretted a single piece of original art I’ve thrifted and I’ve never re-donated one. Because if I like it in the thrift store I looooove it my home. I can’t help but browse the art even though I know I’m running out of space because I never know when I’m going to come across something amazing that will be with me for the rest of my life.

Antiques. I love antiques so much. I love old things. They have a weight and gravitas. They feel like survivors, because so much of what humans create, we then destroy. Things that survive to become antique were treasured or lucky and I feel like if they survived because they were treasured by someone you can feel that, and if they survived because they were lucky then bring that luck into your home. Finding true antiques (things that are 100+ years old) in thrift stores requires patience and an eye and it’s always such a wonderful experience to stumble across something and know that it is old and precious, and it can be yours for thrift store prices.

Collections. I’m a collector, have been my whole life, I have so many different collections of things. I have a theory that if you have one of a thing then it’s just a thing you like, 2 is a coincidence, 3 or more is a collection. I often find myself going: Whoops I guess I collect that now. It’s such a thrill to spot something in a thrift store that fits one of my collections and to swoop on it. I even love to stand in a thrift store and hem and haw over a piece before ultimately deciding I don’t need to add it to my collection because it’s not the best example, or doesn’t quite fit, or I’ve got something too similar. That’s part of the experience. I have many vestigial collections, things I used to collect but I no longer get a thrill from so I’ve re-donated all but the pieces I couldn’t bear to part with. I love to imagine, when I send an old collection off to the thrift store, someone else discovering my treasures and adding them to their collection of that thing.

Really high-quality stuff that is very expensive new. Sometimes people buy something expensive as a gift and the recipient doesn’t want it and donates. Sometimes someone will drop a lot of money on something, then never actually use it and donate it. Sometimes someone will buy something expensive and they will use it for years, but because they’ve taken good care of it and it was such good quality to begin with, it will still have years and years of use in it when it gets donated. When you come across something in a thrift store that you know cost $$$ and you could never justify buying it new, then that my friends is an experience. Years later, every time I pull it out of the drawer, I still ride high on the thrill of my stupid expensive potato masher that was in its original packaging with its original $80 price tag. Who spends $80 on a damn potato masher? Sure as hell not me, but I own a $80 potato masher that I paid 3 bucks for.

#thrifting #thrift shopping #solarpunk #solarpunk tag #fuck capitalism #sustainability #eco home #reduce reuse recycle

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ficbrish · 1 month

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Part of my Flufftober Spring one shot collection

"The Pale Elves"

cw: Sickness, teasing, cptsd

Tav Vistri, Shadow-Cursed Lands, near the end of Act II

“You look a little pale.”

“Rich. Coming from you,” Vistri chortled.

It was true, Astarion’s skin was a colorless white. It used to shine with the kiss of the sun, but then he died, and in rising again, kept death’s pallor. Vistri didn’t have much room to talk though. She had a lavender, periwinkle sort of tone, which was rather light for a drow.

But even more so tonight. Her coloring was different, more silver than purple.

Which, in turn, colored his response. Usually he’d play along, tease her for being just as pale as he was. Instead, Astarion fretted over her with a surprising amount of concern. He didn’t consider himself to be a particularly empathetic person, and yet here he was, hurting at even the prospect of her discomfort. Worrying like a mother hen! It was wrong. All of this was wrong.

“No, I mean it,” he said, “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted.

No more than a second later, she sneezed.

There was a handkerchief dangling in her face when Vistri opened her eyes; a frowning Astarion at the other end. Grudgingly, she snatched it out his hands, furious at her sinuses for their poorly-timed betrayal.

No one ever passed her silk scarves from their pockets when she needed one. His thoughtfulness landed in her heart like a burn on frozen skin. He also wasn’t allowed to be right. They were in the midst of the Shadow Curse Lands, hot on the tail of those Absolute cultists. Of course, she’d rather stay at camp and rest! Her muscles ached to the bone, and the power of the curse this close to Moonrise made her head pound. Grumbling, she blew her nose with an unfortunate honk.

“What in the hells was that?!” Astarion asked, laughing.

Come to think of it, he’d never seen Vistri blow her nose before. Such a normal thing. He wasn’t prepared for her to do it so abnormally.

“What?” she asked, genuinely confused, having lived with that sound her whole life.

“It’s like a…” his laughter cut off his words, “Like a fucking foghorn! What is that?”

Offended, she answered, “I’m blowing my nose!”

Astarion fell back, laughing, into his bedroll. He tried to right himself, but this newly discovered quality of hers kept him too weak to sit up.

“It’s not funny!” she pouted.

“Yes!” he was struggling to speak normally, “Yes, it is!”

He was lucky his uncontrollable laughter was so precious to Vistri. It made it almost not matter that it was at her expense. Almost. Her pride still prickled, hardening the casing of her chest. But he broke it so easily. The sound of his beloved laugh lifted her heart, like a hearth roaring on a snowy night.

She tried her best to sound serious, “Keep that up and maybe I’ll start feeling less generous.”

“You don’t mean that!” he chuckled warmly, crawling his way back to a sitting position.

“Yes,” she crossed her arms, “I do!”

“No, please!”

Even the affectation of anxiety and regret in Astarion’s voice tugged painfully at her heart. She leaned in and kissed the side of his head, whispering, “You know I could never deny you.”

His remaining giggles stilled into a soft, happy smirk.

“You couldn’t?”

“Never, ever.”

“Well…” He paused, stopping himself from admitting something painfully sincere. Then continued with a teasing brow, his tone changed, “I’ll have to remember to take advantage of that, won’t I?”

Vistri leveled her brow with his, “I thought we were learning how not to take advantage of each other.”

“Ugh! You’re quite right,” he pouted, then cheekily bent his frown into a warm smile.

They joked around about it, but theirs was a sacred promise. An experiment.

Is love real?

Are they worthy of it?

Wrapping her arms around Astarion’s neck, she purred, “That doesn’t mean you have to keep your hands off me.”

He chuckled softly and drew her in closer, holding her tighter. Caressing her nose with his, he savored the lightness in his head at her proximity. His nose flicked hers aside, tilting her head up to align her lips with his, leaning forward to gently meet them.

This was the new world they were exploring. One where they kissed for the sake of a kiss.

She felt his hands cradle the back of her neck. Everything in her relaxed. Tensions she didn’t know she held suddenly let go into his embrace.

“Lucky us,” he spoke against her ear.

#vistarion #tav x astarion #astarion x tav #wip wednesday #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #BrishFics #astarion #astarion ancunin #fluff

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firefly-sky · 2 months

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I totally agree with your post on censorship of Israel and Palestine. Obviously what is happening between them right now and tragic and disgusting. Lately people have been grouping all Jewish people into being zionists which is so harmful, I’m Jewish and my father was beaten in the city to the point where he was hospitalised just because he was wearing the Star of David. I was with him when it happened, he didn’t do anything aside from being Jewish, my family isn’t even from Israel, we are in full support of Palestine but people want to label us Zionist for a culture we were born into. Jewish and Israeli people can’t control their heritage and calling all of them zionists for it is insane, real zionists are terrifying and to throw the term Zionist around waters down the impact of them. They want to erase history of Jewish people and make us collectively look bad, comparing current tragedies to the holocaust, no violence should ever be compared like it’s a competition. Of course there are Jewish people who are bad and hold radical beliefs but that also goes for every other culture, ethnicity, and religion. I do not condone Israel’s actions in any way but I strongly disagree with showing prejudice towards Jewish and Israeli people who have nothing to do with the war and do not support it.

Tw Antisemitism, politics mentions of the Israel/Palestine conflict, read at your own risk. Come after me all you want. I don’t care. But I need to talk about this because it’s important.

First off, I’m so sorry that that happened to your family. Nobody deserves that at all. I send my deepest condolences and I hope that your father (and the rest of your family) is okay. It is absolutely disgusting that that happened. I’m assuming by ‘the city’ you mean NYC, and I know that antisemitic hate crimes have risen 200%, and it’s just vile, especially because Jews in places nowhere even near Israel are hiding blamed. It’s not their fault.Its not even the Israelites’ faults. It’s the Israeli government’s fault.

Secondly, I agree whole heartedly. There are good Jewish people in Israel. Good, innocent Jewish people who haven’t done anything wrong and absolutely do not deserve to be censored. Although I do not condone what is going on there right now, I absolutely do not condone October 7th either. You could argue that none of this would have happened if October 7th never happened. If you’re gonna talk politics, you have to look at both sides, not just the one you support. That goes for any politics, be it this, your position on the left/right spectrum, whatever. You have to look at both sides.

Words can’t even describe just how awful it is that Jewish people in places that have nothing to do with Israel are being blamed and harassed mot just on the internet, but in r3al life too. Watching it just makes me feel sick. Again, while I do not and will not ignore the fact that what the Israeli government has decided to do is absolutely disgusting and tragic, I also cannot and will not ignore the fact that innocent people are being labeled such harmful terms and their voices aren’t being heard. That’s like saying every American ever is anti immigrant or that every American in the world supports what’s going on in the government there, albeit on a much less extreme scale.

But yes. I absolutely don’t think that Israel should be censored while Palestine isn’t. If you want to censor one you gotta censor the other. What happened with me was that the person said they n didn’t want pro Israel people finding my post’. The thing is I don’t care who sees my posts. People aren’t always going to agree with me and my opinions and that’s fine. People aren’t always going to enjoy what I say. But I can take it. I don’t need a group of people to be censored for the sole sake of ‘protecting me from “the bad guys”’ (putting that in HEAVY quotes).

Again. I’m so sorry that that’s happening to you and other people on the internet. I’ve seen it happen. One blog I like in particular had been labeled a Zionist when they aren’t. And I feel awful for them because it isn’t fair. They’ve never even indicated that they are. In fact they’ve heavily denied it and I feel awful that so many people get this sort of traction on the internet. Everyone deserves to feel safe online, including Jewish people.

I don’t expect anyone to really listen to me though. I myself am not Jewish so take what I say with that in mind. I’m also a technical minor and nobody listens to minors so you know. People are probably not gonna care about what I say. But I’ll still say it because I wanna raise awareness

(Sorry for the rant)

#important #skipper speaks #antisemitism #israel #palestine #another thing i’ve noticed is that people never spell israel right when censoring #like they can talk politics when they can spell both parties right #i’m sorry this happened to you #you don’t deserve that treatment #nobody does #tw antisemitism

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genshinlover101 · 2 years

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I have no words for how much I love your two modern high school AU seven minutes in heaven posts 🥰💛💛💛 If you don’t mind, can we get a part three with Jean, Yoimiya, Beidou, Sara and Yae. Because I‘m dying to hear your thoughts on these ones as well! Thaaaank youuuuuu💋

[for some reason I feel like pointing out that I‘m neither the person who requested this in the first place, nor the person who requested the second part. I‘m just a the third one you left giggling and needing more 😉💛]

Seven Minutes in Heaven with Her Prt. 3

Modern High School AU!

Character: Jean, Yoimiya, Beidou, Sara, Yae Miko x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Original Request: Modern highschool au where the girls and their crush are mutual pining one another, however their S/O's friend group is sick of them not making a move with each other and decides to set them up by going to a party and playing party games (Like seven minutes in heaven or spin the bottle) and that's where the fun part begins since we know the girls might confess or even kiss their crush ;))

A/n: Don't mind if I do, I hope it’s not too early for a prt. 3

Link to Prt. 2 (Not connected, only if you want more)

• Jean is the overworked class president. You’d watch her from the back seat being trudged through the mud by your lazy excuse of a teacher. “Jean, can you collect the homework?” “Jean dear, can you check up on your classmate?” “Jean, can you carry this to my office for me?” You made yourself a recurring figure in her life by helping her out every now and then.

• Your friends grew tired of watching you carry a burden without any merit. Sure you were a helping hand, but nothing more to Jean from their eyes. Every now and then you’d disappear before anyone else could to help the girl carry a huge pile of papers across the school.

• It was a struggle to get Jean to go to the party, she always had another excuse. Whether it was homework, afterschool circulars, or chores, it was a neverending pile of responsibilities for her. Your friends had to go so far as to make you yourself invite her while you were on one of your ‘missions’.

Jean arrived tired and worn from school and clubs, just wanting a couch to lie on or a chair to rest her eyes. The moment she walked through the door it was like you were waiting just for her, grabbing her arm with a big smile. “Jean!” You howled with a warm smile. A familiar face was just what she needed. “You kept your promise to me, I’m glad you could make it tonight.”

Your friends gave you specific directions, to grab Jean and meet them in the upstairs living room, where they had a surprise for you. So that was exactly what you did, so gullible. The moment you appeared they shoved you into a small closet barely big enough for a single person. Claiming they were going to play seven minutes in heaven, you two being the first test subjects as you seemed glued to the hip.

The room dimly lit as you rolled your eyes. Seriously locking the class president in the same room as you was the best idea they had? Jean looking mutually awkward and nervous as she had never been in a situation as such. “Jean, will you forgive my friends for their rudeness,” you huff and puff. Your bodies connected from the front, her hands resting on your chest to create some space from your torsos.

As much as she hated the position you were forced into, Jean might’ve enjoyed it a little. The excitement of something that wasn’t getting a good grade or impressing her parents, the feeling of your bodies together, the rush of being a young girl for the first time. “No worries, I’m often told I need to calm down and take a break. Maybe these seven minutes will be beneficial to me after all.” She said calmly.

She had never noted before, so distracted by math problems and writing essays. But your lingering scent was nice, it was what she had smelled passing in the hallways before when you rushed to help her. It was grounding and comforting, almost as if it wasn’t there she’d feel anxious and regret even coming to this party. Maybe if you weren’t there for her she’d feel this constantly.

Her lips parted slightly and a blush on her face, her heart racing upon realization. She was a smart girl, knowing instantly this feeling wasn’t platonic, yet confessions certainly weren’t her thing. “I-,” she uttered. Before she regretted not taking a stab at you, she clenched her fists against your shirt, ready to speak up. “I don’t want to regret not saying this in the future and I may not be up to your standards, but- I may have taken a liking to you. Something more... more than just friendship.”

• Yoimiya wasn’t particularly proactive in school circulars, but for a good reason. She was busy helping her father run the family business, helping light the night sky one firework at a time. Because of this, she had a keen eye for decoration, the student council would often go to her for her opinion on a school event decor. Her answer always leads to fireworks.

• Your friends grew tired of watching you butt into her affairs. Often at times fireworks grew costly and boring, she’d need a reliable person with more trust from the student council to advocate for her cause, you being her main victim. You’d beg the student council on her behalf, listing all the pros of the appearance of fireworks.

• It was fairly easy to get Yoimiya to the party. Partying, dancing, free food? It was all she needed to hear to get involved. She might even bring some cheap drug store fireworks and sparklers to liven up the night. You attending was just a perk for her because she’d know who to shadow around.

Yoimiya arrived with pure smiles on her face and sparklers in hand, the young woman popular among her classmates. As she made her way through the crowd she greeted many briefly, however she only had eyes for one target, you. Leaving a box of sparklers on the counter for others to grab like a party snack, carrying one so she could specially hand deliver it to you.

When she saw you from behind, her face lit up, smiling from ear to ear as she gave you a great big hug from behind. “I knew I could find you here,” she said loudly in your ear. Surprised you returned her affection with the same energy, a big fat smile on your face, your hands interlocking as you both stared at one another in content small talk.

That was until your friend snuck up behind you, asking you to join them for a little game. Yoimiya was invited too, following closely behind you as you were both dragged into a silent room yet dark room. It was like your life flashed before your eyes, being jammed into a cramped closet by a bunch of hands, Yoimiya joining closely behind you.

In a panic, you apologize deeply to her “I-I’m sorry,” you told her without knowing when you’d be able to be free from this cramped closet. Looking anywhere other than in her eyes, a bead of sweat dripping from your forehead, your hands by your side even if her body was pressed against yours. You felt like reaching out to hold her, to be closer to her, but your fear of rejection was too overwhelming.

Yoimiya’s social intelligence could see clearly through your awkward demeanor. Remembering in her pocket she had a sparkler just for you that she forgot to deliver. “Hey look,” she said softly, hoping it would distract you from this situation she lit it up, the small light gleaming in the dark and damp closet. Your eyes fixated on the burning stick in awe.

The lighting made the tensions high, instead of watching the sparks like normal, her eyes were focused on you only. Your cute eyes looking at the object in her hands, your lips slightly agape in surprise, your skin like glass. ‘What’s wrong with me,’ she thought to herself. She had a perfectly good distraction in her hand to avoid such awkward air, but.. she didn’t want to be distracted from you for some reason. For the first time, she wanted to focus on more than just the flames in the dark. “Has anyone told you how attractive you are?” she said so casually, unaware of her own words.

She normally just spoke from her mind without a second thought, but after saying such embarrassing words a bright red blush on her face was to be seen. “I-,” she was ready to apologize for mentioning such a brash topic, but on second thought she didn’t want to. Thinking this was a once in a lifetime opprotunity “I think you’re always the most attractive in the room, you know that right?” she said with confidence, hoping something more than friendship might ignite from her words.

• Beidou is the classic bad girl stereotype. If she disappeared during lunch breaks she most likely went to go have a smoke in the bathroom that nobody went to. Sometimes you’d follow behind her, not to smoke, but to keep her company along with her gang of delinquents. She found it strange most times, you were like her little dog following her around.

• Your friends grew tired of watching you throw your reputation down the drain. The student council didn’t trust you anymore because the people you hung around associated with Beidou. They wouldn’t try and pry you two away, but maybe you could ‘change her’.

• It was easy to get Beidou to attend the party. It was a pain however, having to invite half of the school’s delinquents in order to convince her. They might as well have turned your friend’s house upside down, the smell of smoke and alcohol strong in the neighborhood streets.

Beidou arrived alone, half of her ‘crew’ already there in separate rooms doing whatever illegal activities. Her strong manly appearance scares most of the people away from the doorstep, all except you. The crowd cleared so you could make your way to greet her like a good puppy dog. “I see you’ve come just to greet me huh?” She asked, patting your head, a smoke already in her mouth seeing as she didn’t have to hide it in this environment.

It didn’t take long for her to put you in a headlock and drag you alongside her. If your friends didn’t know you liked her, they’d assume you’d be getting bullied. She glanced down at your stare fixated at her, the loud music pulsing through her mind causing a headache. “Hey, let’s get outta here? Take me to a room alone, this music is causing a migraine,” she let you wander free as she had you on a leash.

Asking your friend if there was a room vacant for your special friend, they led you to the closet, pushing both of you into the confined space. Not listening to a single word you said in objection. Your hands glued to your side in fear to touch her in a way that would get on her nerves, sweat dripping down your forehead. “I-I’m sorry Beidou, I know you don’t prefer to be this close to me,” you apologized anxiously

Despite the uncomfortable position, she couldn’t seem more okay with this, a sadistic look on her face. It almost seemed like she was the only one in this cramped space. “You seemed a little too troubled to be in this space with me? Do you hate me that much, sport?” She asked you with a toothy smile. Her hand wrapping around your head.

A scared look on your face as you trembled in her grip, she seemed to soak up your expressions. “Say- you always seem to follow me around don’t you? Would you do anything for me?” The lack of personal space gave her a confidence boost. “Would you even bark for me hmm?”

“You don’t think I’m a big bully, don’t you? It’s all in good fun,” the adrenaline pumping from her contact, you couldn’t reply properly to her questions. “I would hate to admit I enjoy this game between us too, I might even reward you if you keep up the good work,” a red glimmer in her eye as she seized a golden opportunity.

• Sara was the teacher’s pet with straight As. Reminding the teacher of the homework last night and snitching on every juvenile delinquent in here premise. Secretly she was a big nerd, she had posters, body pillows, stuffed animals, and action figures of her idol the Raiden Shogun, her favorite cartoon. You were the only one who knew her secret.

• Your friends got tired of her stealing you from them on lunch breaks or after school when they made plans. Since you were the only one who knew her secret you were the only one she could confide in, she was normally very shy making it hard for her to interact with others.

• Your friends thought getting her to the party would’ve been hard, but it was surprisingly easy. Since Sara didn’t have much going on at home, her parents always working and focusing on her other siblings she was frequently lonely. When they told her you’d be attending it lit her world up that she’d be able to spend time with you.

Sara arrived with a smug yet uncomfortable look on her face, her arms folded as she searched through the crowd of eyes for you. With a panicked mind, she looked back down at her phone, “I texted them four minutes ago I was here,” she mumbled to herself, the sound of loud music drowning her out. Impatiently she huffed thinking she should’ve never even come.

“Looking for me?” she heard, she turned her head with wide eyes to see you with a smile on your face. It was like a dog who hadn’t seen its owner in months as you two went in for a mutual hug. “Let’s go somewhere quiet,” you whispered in her ear. A similar smile on your faces as you read each other’s minds.

Looking around for a vacant room you funneled your way into one, a small yet comfortable and quiet living space. She revealed in a small bag she carried she had her comics, a hobby like this was something she could only share with you without worries of judgment. That was until you heard the door screech open, without hesitation you shoved her into the small closet nearest to you knowing it would be bad news if someone discovered your little hobby. “I’m sorry,” you whispered to her silent as ever.

Your bodies pressed together, holding her waist in a tight hug, her arms glued to her side in awkward habit. You heard your friend’s voices, searching for you two, waiting for the coast to be cleared. “It’s okay I guess,” she told you, looking down at her feet she stood as still as a statue.

With time she was worried about the small things that she’s never thought twice about before. In times like this, she should be panicking about her little secret becoming public, but she was scared whether her perfume would be to your liking. If she looked good in such dark and dim lighting. If you thought she was fat because your hands on your waist felt her stomach roll. When the door shut and it was clear no one else was in the room she became irrationally agitated. “Stop holding me weirdo,” she ordered you aggressively when she became a little too conscience.

A shy look on her face as her teeth ground together, her ears a bright red when she realized her crush on you. “Recently you’ve been so irritating, I just don’t understand,” She bit her lip to punish herself for spitting such cold words to you. Mustering up all the courage she had before quickly giving you a peck on your lips, short but sweet. “Idiot,” With no clear destination in mind, she wasted no time running out of the closet to hide from your sight.

• Yae Miko was the popular pretty girl who sold snacks during lunch breaks that the cafeteria didn’t have. She always made sure her hair and outfit were perfect even if it broke the dress code. You had an exclusive deal with her that if you bought her your mom’s fried tofu every day she’d give you a free snack.

• Your friends got tired of you bickering with your mother every week to make a batch of fried tofu every week all for the sly girl. You’d do anything for the smallest interaction or glimmer of attention from her even if she gave everyone else the exact same treatment.

• Getting Miko to the party was easy, they just bribed her with a large sum of money. Having close friends present or being lonely wasn’t a worry for her, she just saw it as a business investment. She might even bring a secret stash to sell to her peers.

The moment Miko walked through the doors she had girls and boys alike greeting her like a human magnet. In the back pocket of her jeans, she carried a small snack-sized candy bar she bought from the corner store, your favorite, just for you. A smug look on her face she tried to make her way to you, every conversation she struck up she asked if they had seen you.

Eventually, she was led to you, your presence making this little high school party seem so much more appealing to her. Running up to you with her hands covering your eyes from behind, “Guess who?” she played with you with no concern about who you were initially talking to. She wanted to steal your attention away, your eyes would only meet hers tonight.

That was until you were dragged from the wrist behind, a friend guiding you to another room with a “game” in mind. Miko could only roll her eyes as she followed you with her arms crossed. In return, when your friend was distracted she yanked you from behind into a small dark closet in the hallway, trying to hide from your friend’s invitation.

A superior grin on her face as you trembled in the cramped dark space. Before you could question her actions she put her finger to your lips. “Shh- you wouldn’t want them to find us hmm?” she whispered to you. She planned to stay in that closet until they gave up looking for you.

“Look I even brought you a special gift, I didn’t do this for anybody else you know,” To make light of the situation she pulled the small candy bar from her pocket, wiggling it in front of your face like you were a fish staring at a worm on a lure. Miko had always been flirty you thought as she insisted on feeding you, unwrapping the candy bar for you, making an airplane motion. “Say ahh~,”

When you bit down your lips grazed her fingers, sparking an emotion in her of excitement. “You know you have such soft lips, what’s your secret?” Reaching for another touch, her finger traced your lower lip, her hand gripping your chin for stability. Her face approached closer and closer as you braced yourself for an impending kiss from her. After a few moments with no feeling, you opened your eyes to a grinning Miko.

“Did you honestly think I was going to kiss you?” she giggled. “I mean, do you want me to...? I will.”

#jean x reader #yoimiya x reader #beidou x reader #sara x reader #yae miko x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #jean gunnhildr #yoimiya naganohara #beidou #kujou sara #yae miko

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feelingsick · 2 years

Text

((First part of another NSFW fic from my Patreon))

Azzy and Lark had been excited to finally have a night off to spend together, and had decided to take advantage of the occasion by going to their favorite restaurant for some stuffing play. It had been going great, but it seemed that Azzy had pushed his boyfriend a little too far this time.

Lark’s face had gone pale, perspiration collecting on his brow as he shifted and moaned, trying not to make a scene. One of the best parts of doing this in public was how naughty it felt, how careful they had to be to avoid anyone catching on. Now, though, poor Lark looked positively ill, and as hot as the idea was, Azzy knew that Lark would be mortified to get sick in front of the whole restaurant.

“Deep breaths, baby,” Azzy cooed. Beneath the cover of the table, his hand rested on his boyfriend’s distended stomach. “I’ll get the check, and we can go back home, alright?”

Lark tried to draw in a breath. He shuddered, swallowing hard. “I don’t think I can move right now,” he said, his voice sounding thick. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“Okay,” Azzy said sympathetically, “there’s no rush. We can sit until your belly feels more settled.”

Lark nodded slowly, letting out a breath. He wrapped his arms around his middle with a soft groan, his face contorting in pain. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby.” Azzy brushed a hand through Lark’s hair. “Just breathe. You’re okay.”

He watched Lark’s throat bob as he swallowed back a hiccup. “It’s trying to come back up.”

“Maybe try sipping some water?” Azzy suggested. Lark looked hesitant, but his stomach hurt so bad he was willing to try anything. He grabbed his glass and brought it to his lips with a shaking hand. He managed to get a couple sips down before his entire body suddenly tensed. He set the cup down hard, bringing a hand to his mouth as a sudden heave burst out.

“Easy,” Azzy soothed, but Lark shook his head.

“I can’t keep it down.” He heaved again. A couple sitting at the next table looked over, expressions concerned.

“Okay, that’s okay.” Azzy stood, pulling Lark to his feet. With Lark tucked under his arm, he hurried towards the bathroom, keeping his own hand hovered over Lark’s to catch any mishaps.

“Almost there,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Just keep it down for a few more seconds, baby.”

They’d just barely made it through the bathroom doors when Lark doubled over mid-step, vomiting up a gush of half-digested food onto the dingy, tiled floor.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, tears springing to his eyes. “I couldn’t keep it down.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Azzy said, calmly steering Lark past the mess. His boyfriend shivered.

“There’s more,” Lark gulped, but Azzy was already expecting as much. He led Lark into one of the stalls, guiding him gently to the ground just in time for him to heave up another flood of vomit into the toilet.

Azzy crouched behind him, rubbing Lark’s sweat-dampened back as he continued to vomit.

“That’s it, baby,” he murmured. “Just get it all up.”

#sickfic #my writing #emeto #vomiting #stuffing fic #azzy #lark

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thedevillionaire · 2 years

Text

Best Served Cold

≈ 3,000 words of Underworldian shenanigans - Cerberus and Kia and some guest appearances; any and all questions, please do ask! And as always, thank you so much for taking the time to enter in; my ridiculous little heart loves you all. ---

Seriously?

He’s somehow managed to resemble an outtake from a baroque portrait, an array of plush blankets slung over the chair and side table in what certainly wasn’t artful arrangement but has fallen that way all the same, much like his own position, like he’s been purposefully styled to be all long, sculpted limbs, curtain of silken ebony hair falling just so, shirt semi-unbuttoned as if for an intentional, dramatically splendid unconsciousness. The grandeur of the room itself brings its own measure of import, and a claret-stained wineglass and tissue box, both notably empty, lending further subtle touches to the vista – of indulgence, of necessity. An almost bacchanalian, luxuriantly rich chaos of classic beauty gone vaguely awry, a haphazardness in paradox, perfectly disordered.

And he’s got no right to be this beautiful, not under third-day ravages of a heavy headcold, asleep in the fireside chair that he swore to her he wouldn’t fall asleep in, he’s just going to review some papers, it’s no problem, darkling, and it needs to be done.

He’s a little flushed; could be the wine, could be a touch of fever.

Kia sighs. He may indeed be an unfair triumph of aesthetic debauchery, but right now the stunning Demon king is also just her sick husband, his formidable dominance quieted under blanket pile and sleepthick congested breaths, domestic everyday mundane, which is somehow the most surreal and incredible part of all of it.

Picking up one of several scrolls strewn across the table, she glances over a complex and bloodthirsty looking collection of daemonological whatnots she mostly doesn’t comprehend. Okay, pretty sure that’s ‘evisceration’…

Alrighty, then.

She takes a brief detour to the kitchen, collecting the tissue box from the countertop there, and returns.

“Hey, hon,” she says as he blearily wakes to her soft stroking of his hair, the contours of his face. Her briefly reproachful expression is entirely a work of fiction, though, and she tilts his head towards her for a loving kiss.

:You’re the worst self-medicator I have ever met.:

Cerberus murmurs a congested, hoarse and not quite awake yet Mm, hello, love with a sniffle and nose rub against an itch that wastes no time in reasserting itself; with an urgent gasp he collapses into crooked elbow and a couplet of heavy sneezes he doesn’t even consider fighting. “Ah-TSSCHH-uu! Huh-hhAHTSSCHhuu!” He excuses himself breathlessly a moment before an immediate third, powerful and possessing. “HHAAHTSSCCHU! Ugh, pardon me. *SNFF!*”

“Bless you, sweetheart. Here,” Kia says, passing him a couple of tissues from the new box, which briefly confuses Cerberus before he gathers enough wherewithal through coldhazy tiredness to work it out. He presses his hand to his temples, the bridge of his nose, a series of ineffectual, wet sniffles in the wake, pushes his hair back from his face and makes a halfhearted attempt at rearranging both himself and the blankets into a slightly more put-together fashion.

Another sniffle. “Thanks, love. Sorry.”

She touches a kiss to the top of his head,running her fingers through his hair even as she gently pushes it aside, her hand resting a moment on his brow, noting with slight concern a heat beyond his norm. Another kiss as she drapes her arms around him. “How’s the cold?”

“Flourishing.” He sniffles again, particularly emphatically, and groans as he notices that he’s not, in fact, completed the work he meant to do – work that he thought he had done. “And apparently I’ve had—” he says, as much to himself as to Kia while running through a rapid double check of several scrolls, definitely incomplete, “—the world’s most tedious dream.”

He looks up at his bonded as if she’s going to know the answer, though he’s asking himself more than asking her. “How have I not finished this?”

“Well… You did finish the wine, so...” She gives him a good-natured, gently teasing smile.

“Ah, no, that was shared with Lilith during a delightful impromptu argument earlier,” he says, examining a particular scroll for a third time, “and… *snf* Oh, I…” He frowns, breath sharpcatching, and raises an index finger in urgent necessity of pause, turning from Kia with haste. “Hhh-AHTSSCH-uu! Hh...hh-HH… Ah-HEHTSHhuu! Ah, gods.”

A tired exhalation follows and he sniffles thickly in the wake of it, grumbles something about barely know what I’m doing thanks to this pestilential nonsense and excuses himself to claim a fresh sequence of tissues. He blows his nose, which does little more than reignite the itch with extra heat, burning insistent relentless, and he sneezes again immediately. “Huh-AHSSCHuu! Honestly, this has been… hpt-XCH! all damn… hhH! *snf* All damn day. Excu… hh-ah…AAHTSCHUU!! Gods, excuse me.”

“Aw, bless you, babe.” Kia gives him a moment of recovery – such as it is, his breathing still somewhat erratic – and runs her hands through her bonded’s hair with one hand, passes him some more tissues with the other. “So, want my news of the day? Yeah, you do,” she says with a kiss to his cheek and no pause for an answer. “You know how I had my crash course in Mortal Studies instructing? Okay, well, oh my god it’s a whole lot harder than I expected. Like, some of the stuff you have to explain is just really…really weird. Ash has been super helpful, though. Except he did give me all the assignments to mark, which is definitely less cool, but fine, I guess. At least it’s a small group.”

She stops to regard Cerberus a moment in a sudden, slightly delayed curiosity. “So what were you arguing with Lilith about?”

Cerberus scoffs as he vaporises the used tissues. “Gods know. Haven’t a clue. I’ve willfully forgotten, or today’s medication came with some creative side effects notably more effective than its purported effects.” He clears his throat and sniffles again, rubbing his nose with a determined firmness, and subdues the most recent of the recurrent itches – almost. “She came around here and said some things at me. *snf!* I’ve no idea what.”

“So what did you say, then? You must have said something.”

“Probably did more sneezing than talking,” Cerberus mutters with clear touch of bitterness, more to himself than to Kia, though she offers a nod of agreement and wry chuckle all the same. “Be that as it may, though, I really have very little idea of what the problem actually was. Something about the damned Nuit and Arcadia issue.” He frowns in thought, pressing a hand to his forehead, and sighs. “I could have sworn we started out holding much the same opinion on the matter. Though I’m sure she’d be more than willing to let me know exactly where, why and in which way I was completely wrong about everything.”

“If you don’t remember what you said,” Kia says with a playful wicked grin, “you really can’t be sure that you weren’t wrong about everything, yeah?”

“Honestly, darkling. Are you actively trying to make my day worse than it already is?” Cerberus raises an eyebrow at her and shifts his position to rest his head against hers, murmuring, “I couldn’t have been wrong about everything. I never am.” He turns slightly to give a fleeting, knowing smile at her resultant incredulous laugh, coughs in reflex and groans quietly. “Ugh, I feel appalling.”

“Aw, honey.” Kia touches an affectionate kiss to his temple. “I know.” She glances over her shoulder as a knock sounds at the door. “Huh. Are you expecting anyone?” she asks, already moving to answer it.

“Dear gods, no. Although Lilith didn’t let that stop her from turning up earlier.”

Kia opens the door.

“Guilty co-worker reporting for duty.” Ashtaroth smiles in apology and hugs her in greeting. “Also here’s some bribery so now you have to forgive me,” he adds, proffering a particularly decadent-looking box of dark chocolates.

“Oh, I am totally bribed!” Kia laughs, accepts the box, and closes the door behind him. “I didn’t think you did guilt,” she comments with a grin.

Ashtaroth gives her a sultry look from underneath velvet eyelashes. “I do everything,” he purrdrawls, exaggerated and playful, following her along the hallway, and waves cheerily to Cerberus in an affable greeting which isn’t acknowledged further than a cursory nod.

:Huh. His Majesty not playing the friend game today?:

“Be nice to him. He’s sick.” Kia picks up the stack of assignments from atop the side table she’d left them on and hands roughly half to Ashtaroth.

“I’m always nice to him, Kiki, he’s lethal.” Flicking through the papers, he picks one out of the pile and flaps it at Kia with a groan. “Can you take Jezebel’s? Please please please. Her handwriting’s a nightmare and I may actually die of mental anguish.”

Kia laughs. “Okay, but what about if I swap you with Auror…” A second knock sounds, startling her, and she fumbles the assignments she’s holding, nearly dropping them. “Oh my god, why is it rush hour all of a sudden?” Her hurried attempts to neaten the stack result in not a lot of effective neatening at all, two papers falling to the floor, one of them now looking particularly unprofessionally rumpled.

Aera, impatient, becomes very quickly tired of waiting and lets herself in.

“Hey. Sorry,” she says, not sounding especially so. “I’m not staying, it’s just a fly-by visit to pick up my coat. Pretty sure I left it here last week. I’ve looked everywhere else, so…”

“I really should rescind your threshold entry permissions,” Cerberus remarks, vaguely regretting doing so as his voice cracks with the effort.

“Wow, you sick, Cerbie? You sound like ten buckets of shit.”

“Astutely observed. *snf!* Thank you for your concern.”

Aera rolls her eyes at his expected prickliness about it but he really does sound terrible, his usual satin cadence and crisp enunciation ruthlessly blunted by congestion, and she can’t help but soften a little, offering a somewhat more empathic pat to his shoulder as she walks past him to meet Kia, retrieving one of the stray papers from the floor as she does so. She hands it over. “Mortal Studies, huh? Well, once you’ve done a few of them, it definitely gets more dull than difficult. My coat is here, right? The purple one?”

Kia thinks on it for a moment. “Uh…well, it’s not in the loungeroom... Oh!” she exclaims in a sudden flash of memory. “I put that in the study, I think. Ohh…it’s probably locked, though.” She turns to Cerberus. “Babe, is the top study open?”

“No.”

“Any chance you could open it, then? I’d like my coat,” Aera says, adding with a smirk, “You’ll get rid of me, think of it like that.”

True enough. And not inclined to argue – or engage further at all, come to that – Cerberus pushes the blankets aside with resignation and a thick sniffle, stands and leaves the loungeroom in favour of the staircase.

He makes it up a grand total of three stairs before another knock comes at the door.

Cerberus stops in situ, and the heaviness of his sigh speaks of an exasperation verging on the very, very last straw. “Do we have a ‘vacancy’ sign up that I’m unaware of?” he says tersely.

“I guess it could be Levi, although I doubt he’d just turn up unannounced,” Ashtaroth muses, sidestepping Aera neatly in a lithe move back towards the entry foyer. With a quick glance at Cerberus, who is leaning on the banister looking thoroughly unimpressed, he adds, “I’ll get rid of him if it is," opening the door as he does so.

Therion, his expression gravely serious, looks straight past Ashtaroth to make immediate eye contact with the Demonics Leader.

“It’s for you,” Ashtaroth quips, leaving the foyer forthwith to rejoin Kia and Aera.

Cerberus wipes his nose and returns Therion’s gaze warily, raises an eyebrow in inquiry.

“Your archives have been destroyed.”

Quietly. “What?” Cerberus, stunned, releases his grip on the banister and sits, slowly, on the stairs. He covers his mouth with his hand, a cacophony of thoughts and questions insistent, only one of which is clear at this stage. And neither blunted consonants nor congestion can detract from the barely restrained fury, the certain, darkest finality unmissable in his tone. “So…who gets to die?”

“Um, well, I…” Therion starts hesitantly – rather too hesitantly, as it turns out, and he abruptly breaks off at the immediate rampant fireball Cerberus produces, taking a reflexive step backwards and raising his hands in surrender. “Fuck, man, not me! Shit.” He exhales shakily.

Cerberus murmurs an apology, Fire dissolving. “I have had…quite an exceptionally bad day.” He sniffles again, and looks at Therion again in expectation. “You might want to reconsider your phrasing.”

Therion half-smiles, just briefly, in wry accession. “Thing is, you might want to reconsider the death threat.”

“Why would I conceivably…” Cerberus doesn’t need to complete his sentence, nor confirmation, as the realisation strikes him in an icy flash of betrayal. “Nuit.” He bows his head, ebony hair curtaining his face momentarily, before returning his gaze to Therion, pure storm and inferno reflecting vivid in emerald. “Does she know that you saw her?”

Therion shakes his head.

“Good. Find her. Now.” He stands, gives Aera a cursory glance. “Your coat can wait.”

Aera doesn’t argue, doesn’t question; it was a spur of the moment thing anyway,and she nods in agreement; she knows just how calculated, how targeted Nuit’s treachery actually is. And she knows how deeply this will cut. :Look after yourself, you idiot: she Mindsends Cerberus, lacing it with as much gentle affection as she can manage, and vanishes.

As she does so, Ashtaroth takes Kia’s pile of assignments and adds them to his own. “Okay then, plans have clearly been changed. My karmic debt, I suppose.” He kisses her cheek. “Take care, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, and vanishes also.

“Find her?” checks Therion. “How am I…”

“Mindsend override.” Selecting a jacket from the hallway coatrack, Cerberus caresses Kia’s hair as he passes her, touching a kiss to the top of her head.“Make something up. I don’t care what. But you don’t know that she did anything and neither do I.” He sniffles again and wipes his nose, excusing himself with more than a touch of irritation, clears his throat. “Incidentally, who the hell is running Fire?”

“Till I get back? Shadow.”

“Shadow?” With a brief shake of his head, Cerberus moves to the front door, opens it. “Find her, please.”

Therion nods. :Nuit, where are you? I’ve got you listed for an instructional lesson with level 3 in ten minutes.:

Kia, not entirely sure what’s going on, nevertheless knows one thing as certainty: there is no way she’s not letting her beloved leave the house tonight. Hopefully. Shit. She hurries down the hallway to takes his hand. “Babe, don’t you want to, you know, maybe just, like, think about this a bit more?”

“Darkling—” Cerberus cups her face in his hands and kisses her on the forehead. “—the only reason she chose to incinerate my archives instead of you is that she knows I’d find over six generations of research more difficult to bring back.”

Kia’s expression is briefly pained as she recognises the truth in this, that this destruction was geared not just to do damage but to hurt. She’s not going to be swayed from her goal, though. Not this easily, at least. “Honey, please. I just really think this isn’t a good id…”

“She’s at home,” Therion reports, “and will be leaving for a completely fake lesson in about five minutes. Your choice where you meet up with her.”

“Thank you,” Cerberus manages just moments before the state of his health takes precedence again, and he turns to rapidly cover with tightly bent elbow against the needful, demanding tickle, recognising the cause as lost, and with deep inhalation doesn’t fight it. “Huhh-hhAHTSCHH-uu!” He sniffles sharply and shakes his head in irritation, flicks some disarrayed hair from his face. “Goddamn it. *snf* Pardon me. *SNFF!* Go and relieve Shadow, mm?” He excuses himself and blows his nose, for all the little good it does.

The moment Therion accedes and vanishes, Kia steps in front of Cerberus, her back against the door as she closes it, and resumes her entreaty, this time with no maybes about it.

“Sorry, but you need to be home, babe, you need to be by the fire under a blanket with a bowl of soup or something and…and chamomile tea and honey and...” She trails off as all focus falls from her bonded’s expression and he capitulates to insistent need again, again.

“Ah-TSSCH-uu! Hh-HH... Ahh-TSSCH-uu!”

“Sweetheart, you are not going on a vengeance mission tonight, you’re just… You’re just not.”

:Bless you, by the way.:

And he’s touched by her passion, and he knows she’s probably right, he feels truly wretched, but the fact of it is not negotiable. “I cannot let this stand, love,” he says, and blows his nose again, Mindsending a thank you and an apology as he does so.

“No, no, you don’t have to! You can totally do the deliver justice thing, you can, you will, just not now.Just wait a day. One day.” Or two, Kia thinks, and…probably three, really. “Please, babe. Please look after yourself. You’re running on adrenaline and…and honestly not a whole lot else right now. You’re not well.”

“Darkling, I could have the plague and she wouldn’t be able to match me.”

“You do have the plague. Well, you have a plague. You literally called it pestilential,” Kia reminds him. A thought strikes her then, and she gasps with deliberate melodrama. “Oh-ho-ho, hang on, now. You’re not about to tell me it’s just a cold, are you? No way.” She can’t help but grin, just a little wicked. “This is not the time you actually say those words.”

She waits for him; she knows he won’t. It’s never “just” a cold, after all.

They hold one another’s gaze for some loaded moments; she knows she’s right. And she knows she’s won.

So does he.

:Therion.: Cerberus looks again to Kia as he Mindsends both his Understudy and his bonded simultaneously, her hopeful hint of a smile, the depth of concern apparent there solidifying his decision. Not to mention the fact that if he tried to leave, she’d follow him and get as much in the way as she could; he chuckles slightly at the image, despite himself. And it’s almost relieving to step away. For now, at least. What with the focused rush of initial purpose dissipating, malaise and lack of energy returning with force, his head feeling full fathom five and this ridiculous, endless itch still refusing to be sated – he presses a firm hand against irritated nostrils as it rises anew, sniffling just as uselessly against incessant drip that seems counterintuitive to the cloying congestion but somehow isn’t – the picture of roaring fire and enveloping blankets, hot tea and his beautiful bonded by his side is sounding…immensely appealing, truth be told.

:Tell Nuit…that her lesson has been postponed.:

Kia’s delight is tangible as she Sends him a heartfelt Thank you, sweetheart, souldeep and sincere, before adding a much more notably salacious, “I will absolutely make it worthwhile, you know.”

“Darkling, I’m not sure whether I’m…”

She interrupts, first with a gently placed finger to his lips to silence him, then wrapping her arm around his waist she stands on tiptoe to purrwhisper in his ear, “If you had enough energy to go do the whole Demon lord retribution thing, you have more than enough energy to lie on the bed and get magnificently sucked off.”

His eyes widen, briefly stunned into blankness. “Wh…”

“See?” Her smile is sweetest victory as she slips a hand inside his shirt, her touch covetous, descending.. :I’ve taken your mind off it already.:

---

#does the tiny dance of long-term WIP completion #Nuit is his protege #there's quite the backstory there but hopefully I haven't left out anything critical #and if i have please PLEASE let me know #i get so nervous that i haven't made sense #And thank you so so much for reading #it's the very bestest thing #cerbia #cerberus and kia #cerberus #supernatural soap opera #my OCs #my writing #snzfic

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violetnerves · 8 days

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Bully: Battle Royale, Chapter 1 -

Nothing will ever be the same again.

So I finally got this done, been struggling with feeling inspired to write for a while since my dog fell sick and couldn't walk without help anymore. We were forced to put her to sleep yesterday, and I only just got the inspiration to finish this a few hours ago.

It's a shame, she was a good dog, but all good things come to an end. I feel like I'm taking it rather well, but i'm also the type of person to have the grief hit later on rather than immediately.

It seems rather gruesome to write a fic like this considering all that, but I also feel like it kind of helps... in a weird way.

Anyway, Content warning for the following, I'll also put some of it in the tags too:

Death of a Major canon character.

Blood, like, a lot of it.

Graphic descriptions of injuries/wounds (Might be more applicable in future chapters, not so much here.)

Some foul language.

Honestly, if the deaths of teenagers/children is something that you have a difficult time reading about, you'll want to avoid this fic.

Word count: 2657 (It's short, but I consciously wanted to avoid what happened with the other fic where I had to split chapter 1 into two parts. Future chapters will be longer.)

Like my other fic, I'll also be posting this on Ao3.

Jimmy hated Mondays.

No, really. He did. There was just this suffocating atmosphere of suckage that, well, sucked any and all kind of positive feeling that you could get throughout the day. Besides, what good thing ever happened on a Monday? Exactly! Absolutely nothing!

Sunday was second to it as far as terrible days went, but that was only because the next day after that one was Monday.

Sure, it wasn't an unpopular opinion, but saying it out loud was dumb. It was like saying the sky was blue or that water was wet. The only appropriate response, in Jimmy's opinion at least, for saying you didn't like Mondays was the following:

*"Well, obviously no one likes Mondays **moron**. Who does?"*

...

Why did that sound exactly like something Gary would say?

Why would he even think about that *snake*?

He shook his head, trying to force his thought process onto something else.

This wasn't an ordinary, typical Monday at school, no, of course it wasn't. The entire student body of Bullworth Academy were shoved onto two garbage heaps of buses - Aside from the Preps, who got their own, new and fancy private bus - both of which might as well have been 20 miles away from breaking down and stranding them all in the middle of nowhere.

Jimmy sighed and leaned his head on the bus window as his classmates wreaked havoc all around him. Trent and Wade were throwing Bucky's glasses back and forth to each other across the left section bus seats while Bucky himself tried - and failed - to catch them. Johnny and Lola were - not so quietly - making out with each other in the other seat in the aisle next to him, and the rest of the Greasers were busy yelling at some passing drivers about how shit their cars looked. Several of the Jocks were tossing a mini toy football all around the bus, occasionally - most likely purposefully - hitting one of the nerds with it. The Nerds didn't have much of a way of defending themselves since they weren't allowed to bring any of their gadgets along.

Jimmy was left without a lot of the stuff he'd collected as well, having decided to just leave it all back in his dorm room. It's not like anybody could mess with anything there. The whole school was allowed to go on the field trip, regardless of grades. He'd thought that was a little odd, but he figured it was because the trip was meant to be educational rather than actually fun.

He wasn't sure what the Preps were up to. Most likely, they were all enjoying the experience of having their own bus to their inbred, spoiled rotten selves.

"You boys! Cut that out! You're old enough to know better than to throw things at people!" Mr. Galloway could be heard yelling from up front, his tone of voice sounding more irritated and tired than usual. The Jocks must've noticed his irritable tone as well, or they might've cooperated out of respect for one of the few nice teachers at the Academy, because after that, the toy hadn't been thrown around anymore.

Where Jimmy was seated, he was able to make out some irritated grumbles from Galloway, muttering about needing another drink, and Ms. Philips coaxed him off of the idea.

Galloway was clearly having a pretty bad hangover. This caused Jimmy to feel a bitter disappointment in the man, something that he was unfortunately used to feeling when it came to the adults in his life. He was miffed that Galloway was still drinking despite everything the boy had been doing to get him to stop. But he guessed there was only so much a kid like him could do. It was saddening that one of the few teachers who actually gave a damn about his students acted like a mean and irritable drunkard half of the time.

At least Ms. Philips was along for the trip as well, sitting right next to Galloway. She'd be an extra pair of eyes to make sure the English teacher didn't try and sneak a drink during the trip.

"Hey Jimmy?" Pete Kowalski said, concern in his tone. As Jimmy's friend, maybe the only real friend he had so far that hadn't been made by brute force, he sat next to Jimmy on the bus. Jimmy wasn't sure if he liked sharing a seat all that much, but he supposed it being Pete was better than anybody else.

Jimmy lifted his head up slightly from the window, looking over at his slightly younger friend.

"Yeah, Pete?" Jimmy said, slightly grumbling the first part of the sentence out.

"Are you ok? I dunno, you just seem kind of distracted by something."

Jimmy shrugged, leaning away fully from the window and sitting up in his seat. At first, Jimmy wanted to stay quiet and avoid answering, but he felt that Pete would think he was ignoring him. Which... well, that's pretty much what he would be doing.

"It's nothing, just..."

Jimmy knew he shouldn't look back at part of the source of his bad mood, but...

Well, there was something bothering him. Ok, not something, *someone*.

Jimmy turned in his seat to glare at the occupant of the last bus seat at the back of the bus. There, Gary Smith sat alone. His gaze faced the window, watching the scenery as it passed by and ignoring the shenanigans of the rest of their group.

It was stupid, Jimmy had hardly known Gary for barely a month, and they'd been enemies for longer than they'd been friends. Yet... aside from the fact that it was a Monday, as well as the dumb crap the other students were doing around him... Gary's betrayal still nagged and scratched at him the most.

Mainly from how spontaneous and, frankly, stupid it was. Gary seemed to pride himself on his intelligence and how he always thought ahead compared to the "morons" around him. But... he was by himself. The only other kid that actually sat alone was Russell, who was forced to since his size caused him to take up the entire bus seat. In Gary's case, it was because nobody in Bullworth actually liked him enough to sit by him. How could he even think he could become king of the school when no one even liked him?

"It's Gary, isn't it? He's still bugging you."

Jimmy turned to Pete, who seemed to lean back at his intense gaze.

"What! No, I don't care about that chump! Screw him!" Jimmy replied, following it up with a scoff, "Though i'm sure Gary *wishes* I cared that much about him. You remember how offended he got when I called him *boring*?"

Pete seemed to relax a bit more.

"Ha, yeah. I actually thought he was gonna hit you right after that. I'm surprised he didn't, then again, Gary's always been kind of hesitant about getting into an actual fight."

"Yeah, cause he's a coward. If he wasn't such an asskisser to Crabblesnitch, I'd beat the crap out of him."

Bucky's glasses flew just above Jimmy's head, and he snatched them out of the air. Wade, who'd been the one to toss them, yelled out:

"Hey Hopkins! Toss those to Trent!"

Jimmy frowned, turning around with his knees on his seat and his arms laid on the back to face Wade. He got a side eye from Constantinos, who sat right behind him, but he didn't care much. It's not like his respect mattered much. The kid was no better than Gary, except he happened to be a lot less bold about insulting people.

"Will you dumbasses cut it out! What'd I say about picking on the nerds? Do you want me to kick your ass *again*?"

Wade frowned, but rather than actually do anything, he sat back in his seat. Trent flipped Jimmy off but got back in his seat just as quickly as Wade did.

Jimmy smirked and looked over to Bucky.

"Here, catch."

From 3 seats away, Jimmy tossed Bucky's glasses back to him. Rather than actually catch them, though, the glasses slipped from Bucky's hands and fell to the ground, cracking the left lense right in the middle.

Jimmy noticed but didn't much care, sitting right back in his seat.

"I swear, some people just never learn."

Pete nodded, yawning. Jimmy thought that was kind of odd. Did he not get enough sleep last night? Then again, he did have Gary for a roommate, Jimmy wouldn't be surprised if that weird mumbling Gary had kept him up late.

"Yeah... The kids around her are... So stubborn... man, I'm kinda tired..." Pete mumbled, already appearing half asleep. He looked like he was struggling to even sit up. "W-What about you?"

Jimmy was about to say he wasn't until he himself had yawned before he could. Suddenly, it seemed he was also on the verge of dozing off. This didn't seem right, Jimmy knew he'd gotten plenty of sleep last night. He'd clocked out at 7:30, right after a whole day of running around and doing errands for some extra spending money.

"Yeah... It's weird, I was gonna say no, but for some reason, I'm just feeling like I could pass out at any second... Weird... Huh?" Jimmy looked over to Pete, finding the latter boy passed out... along with Lola and Johnny, who were also passed out in their seat in the next aisle.

Jimmy had a bad feeling bubbling inside him, and despite being on the verge of passing out, he grabbed the back of his seat and struggled to lift himself up to get a look at the rest of the bus.

Every single student, as well as Mr. Galloway and Ms. Philips were in a deep sleep in their seats. He glanced over to Gary, who had his fingers gripping the window, as if he'd been trying to open it before succumbing to whatever had caused everybody else to pass out.

*'What the... Is there some kind of gas leak in the air? What's going on here?'*

Jimmy attempted to get out of his seat to reach the aisle, but his drowsiness won out. He fell, barely catching himself with his arms before even those had failed him. On the ground, he tried to get up again, but his eyelids grew heavier and heavier until he couldn't keep them up anymore.

*'What...'*

The thought barely registered in his head before he lost consciousness.

***

*Jimmy sat alone on a park bench.*

*He wasn't sure what he was doing there, but he had a feeling it didn't actually mean all that much. He was dreaming after all, and as far as he understood it, dreams and nightmares were just your brain throwing out stuff from your memories and smashing them together in your head to sort things out. At least that's what a therapist had told him once, in the one time he went.*

*He'd only gone once because mom had only really paid for one session. CPS had only really required her to take him one time, so that's the only time he'd ever seen a therapist.*

*Suddenly, he wasn't alone, and he turned to find his father sitting with him.*

*Well, not his dad, more like his dad's tattooed body from the shoulders down that Jimmy had only seen from a photo of him as a baby. From the neck up, it was Mr. Galloway's head, which... was a weird sight to look at, given how his bio dad's muscular frame compared to the rather gaunt Galloway was mismatched in the most uncanny way.*

*Jimmy grimaced.*

*"Ew."*

*"Look, I'm trying to work with what I've got here. It's not my fault your mother's taste in men is terrible." The voice that came out of Jimmy's pseudo father figure belonged to the hobo who lived behind the bus. Man, surely he could've had more to work with than that?*

*"Fine, but do you take constructive criticism?"*

*"Sure."*

*"You did a bad job."*

*"Aw, c'mon."*

*Jimmy frowned.*

*"What's up with all this, by the way? Why are you here? Or is asking that question just pointless?"*

*Jimmy's pseudo dad sighed, scratching his head.*

*"Who knows? I guess your brain felt like you needed a father figure at the moment to prepare you for what you might see once you wake up."*

*Jimmy leaned forward, rolling his eyes. So he wasn't even sure why he was here? Great.*

*"And why is that? I fell asleep on the school bus on the way for a friggin field trip to a museum. What could be so dangerous about that?"*

*Pseudo dad went quiet for a bit, sighing.*

*"I guess we'll figure that out soon enough. God help you James," as he called Jimmy "James" he briefly sounded like Galloway for a moment, and he began to disappear.*

*The dream began to break up, and as soon as Jimmy had arrived -*

He woke up.

Jimmy found himself sitting in a school desk, his head laying on the table. He lifted his head up and looked around. The rest of the class was in the room... as well as the townies? None of the townies were sat at a desk, instead the group were laying in a pile at the other side of the room. Mr. Galloway and Ms. Philips were nowhere to be found, something which gave Jimmy pause... as well as a terrible feeling to take over him.

He looked around the room, trying to get a sense of the area in case he could make a quick escape.

The room itself appeared to be an abandoned classroom, left to decay and be ravaged by God knows who. Some plants had grown in through the broken window panels at the right side of the classroom. The floor had visible holes in it, the stone broken either by disrepair or by anyone who explored the building.

"What the hell..." Jimmy muttered, turning his head as he heard someone mumbling. Just one row and two seats behind Jimmy, Russell lifted up his head. It was only then that Jimmy noticed the metal collars everyone in the room was wearing, and as he held his hand up to his own neck, he realised he was wearing one too.

Russell noticed his collar immediately, touching it.

"Huh?" Russell said. His fingers began to curl around the collar as if he was about to rip it off.

Without hesistation and fully going off of his gut feeling, Jimmy yelled out to Russell:

"H-hey Russell, don't pull on that!"

Russell didn't listen, didn't even really register Jimmy's voice at all. He gave the collar a hard tug, and Jimmy heard a loud crack as the pressure caused the metal to break.

Before Russell could even realise the repercussions of what he did, the collar *exploded.*

The sound of the blast woke everyone in the room up, and those in front of Russell got the worst of it as they were sprayed by Russell's arterial blood from his burst open neck. The big guy fell over on his desk, his life literally draining out of him and spewing out on the dirty, decrepid tile floor. The Townies awoke and scrambled to their feet at an almost unnatural speed, their eyes widening at Russell's corpse.

It only took a second of realization, before the scream of one of the girl's caused a panic, and all hell broke loose in the room as desks and furniture were toppled over and people scrambled and ran blindly around the room.

Jimmy hated Mondays, and this time, he felt that he had a good reason to at this very moment.

Nothing good happened on Mondays, and it didn't take Russell's gruesome death for Jimmy to realise that after today, nothing would ever be the same again.

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trickster-jpeg · 3 months

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I’ve Got Soul But I’m Not A Soldier.

Summary: Marc’s feels like he’s failed Steven now that the Brit knows about their past, Layla’s there to try and help put his mind to rest with reassurance.

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1412 It's On AO3 -> Here

“I feel like I’ve failed him.”

Marc watched as Layla’s head snapped up from the book she was quietly reading, confusion crossing her face at the lack of context.

“Failed who?”

“Steven.”

Within a split second of his words, he saw his wife’s expression melt into a sympathetic look. Uncertain of where to tread, not exactly sure as to where Marc was taking the conversation, but willing to hear him out nonetheless. She looked conflicted for a moment, a desire to move close and give the man her undivided attention to show that she was listening. But that was the last thing that her husband wanted or needed.

After years of emotional repression and being unable to open up or talk about even the simplest of troubles filtering through his head, having someone watching him made him feel almost as though he were a bug under a microscope just seconds away from being pinned in a frame. He could never get the words out under visible attention being shown to him, so one of the best things Layla could do was to continue reading and wait for Marc to carry on talking. Or at least fake something to make it appear as though she wasn’t waiting on him. Watching him.

Marc shifted his position uncomfortably from where he sat on the opposite end of the sofa. He’d spent the last ten minutes or so just watching the fish swim around in the tank, even going so far as to count the bubbles from the filter whilst trying to psyche himself up to speak. He’d been working on getting better at sharing things. For his sake, and for Layla’s sake. He wanted to be better for her and this was one of the ways he could do that. Even if he’d rather peel off his own skin and barbecue it than talk about his demons.

With a shaky inhale, he flickered his eyes upwards to briefly glance at the woman sitting opposite to him before moving his focus back to the goldfish and speaking.

“I just- He was never supposed to know the things he knows now. Was never supposed to see them or learn about them or me. I know it’s good that he knows that there’s communication and it’s for the better overall but- A part of me just feels like it’s all been for nothing. That I've put all this effort into trying to give him a good life and it’s just crumbled.”

He swallowed hard and took a deep, shaky inhale in the hope that it’d help squash the almost instant regret of starting the conversation that had began to well up in the pit of his stomach. A part of his mind berated him for speaking, taunting him with cruel words that tried to disregard everything he said. To make him doubt whether any of the words he’d spoken had any validity. Whether they’re actually worth anything or he’s just wasting someone else’s time and making himself seem damaged for pity points. Telling him that he’s making up fake issues for attention because he’s a selfish brat. It’s a voice that parrots the words that sound distinctly like his mother’s.

And so in a panic, he continues to ramble in an attempt to drown out his own thoughts.

“Like- I know logically he’s got a good life now. Here. With us. But I- It’s- I can’t-“

He cuts himself off with a frustrated noise and clenches his eyes shut, his face pressing firmly into his palms as he tries to collect himself.

Layla was probably so fed up with him, so sick of his petty and meaningless bullshit. She probably regretted ever even thinking that she wanted to know his thoughts. His feelings. Such a waste of space. No weight or merit at all, just there to make everyone else feel like utter shit because that’s all he was good at doing. He couldn’t even say the right words to form a phrase let alone piece together a coherent sentence. Why couldn’t he just speak like a normal person? What kind of person gets overwhelmed and feels like fleeing across the ocean at the thought of saying two or three fucking sentences?

‘Hey, I feel like a huge fuck up and just a complete waste of space because I can’t even keep my own alter from experiencing and remembering the trauma we went through as a kid, even though that’s the only thing I was good for. How’s your day been?’. He was such a fucking failure, it’s no wonder his mom started to hate him. She was probably looking for a reason to, even before he’d killed his brother. It’s probably why his father didn’t waste his breath trying to stick up for his son or defend him against his mother either. He just wasn’t worth it.

“…c- Mar- MARC-“

His head jerked up in surprise, violently snapping out of his own self made mental spiral. He felt Layla’s hands gently holding his own, having just been cupping the sides of his face before he’d moved his head away. She had a concerned look on her face as she scanned her eyes over him, searching for something he couldn’t quite figure out. Faintly, his mind made a comment about how he’d gone and made her worried for no reason, but the gentle grip she had on his hands grounded him enough to focus on that rather than his own thoughts. He watched her hesitantly for a second, his eyes darting away from making contact with hers every few seconds just to scan around the apartment and look at something else.

They sat in silence for a few more minutes before he decided he should say something and tried to awkwardly clear his throat. However, as he went to open his mouth to speak, he found himself being cut off by her.

“You’re not a failure, Marc. Sure, you tend not to deal with things in the healthiest of ways, but it’s understandable given everything you’ve had to deal with on your own before.” She pauses for a moment to read his expression, checking that he was listening and that it was alright for her to continue talking. “You’ve protected Steven from the trauma you all went through for decades. You made sure he knew he was loved and cared for and looked after. You let him know he wasn’t alone, the same way he did by just being there for you. Even if he knows things about your history now, that doesn’t take away from the fact that you did so much for him just so he could know that he had someone there for him in a way that you didn’t when you needed one. That doesn’t sound like it was all for nothing to me, does it?”

Hesitantly, he shook his head slightly as he still tried to process her words in full. Even if he didn’t believe some of the things she’d said about him, there would probably always be a small part of him that doubted he could be anything remotely decent, he could admit that she was right. He’d done everything he could to make sure Steven could be as content as he could be. Writing him postcards from his mum, setting up a voicemail so he could chat to her, taking on the memories he didn’t have and the symptoms that he wasn’t supposed to know he experienced, or even doing small things like making sure he always had snacks he liked in the flat.

Even if Steven knew now, he’d still grown up with the support that Marc never had. That he’d hoped and prayed for and craved. He’d been able to surround himself with his passion of egyptology, his love of poetry, being able to buy the books and items he wanted without any shame or hesitation. Never having to worry about things like not having enough to pay rent, or deciding whether he needed to ration his food or just go hungry for a few days to make ends meet. Because that was something Marc had made sure that he’d never have to go through or struggle with, because Steven had saved his life and the least he could do was make sure the other man had a good one of his own to live. And despite knowing the things he does now, that must count for something.

#moon knight #moon knight system #moon knight fanfic #marc spector #layla el faouly #my fic #writing #ao3 #hurt/comfort

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delirious-donna · 2 years

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Hello there,

I just read your Obito NSFW Alphabet and it was simply… breathtaking 😳 Furthermore your writing style is amazing 💕

Could I ask for another alphabet with either Tobirama or Itachi? 🥹

Thank you and have a wonderful weekend 🥹

NSFW Alphabet [Itachi Uchiha]

an: hi sweetie! Thank you so much for the kind words, it means more than you could ever know. ^^ I decided on Itachi, I hope you don't mind? I have quite the soft spot for the Uchiha men with Itachi being number one by a country mile!! (2023 update - no longer correct! Obi is my man)

Masterlist

A - After Care

Itachi is the softest man, he is just all kinds of sweet once he has well and truly satisfied both you and him.

Would you believe he owns an entire range of aromatherapy oils? Well, he does…

“How are you feeling my beloved? Would prefer peppermint or sandalwood?”

His eyes light up as he gazes at his collection, already rubbing his hands to warm them in anticipation of the smooth glide across your velvet skin.

Itachi will work out every knot and stress point on your back, shoulders, and thighs - wherever you ask. You will be a boneless puddle on the bed while he hums happily.

B - Body Part

This is a touchy subject for Itachi.

Without hesitation, it’s his eyes, but as well as being his favourite body part, they are also his most hated.

A constant reminder of the hardships that his clan has faced, an identifying marker that means he could never be considered as anything but an Uchiha.

However, there is also a deep reverence in his eyes, especially as he was gifted one by his most trusted friend - awakening his Mangekyō Sharingan in the process.

For this reason, he values his eyes extremely highly despite the price he and others have had to pay for their unique abilities.

To lighten the mood a little, he does enjoy putting you under genjutsu - willingly, of course - to indulge in the pleasures of your flesh endlessly.

C - Cum

Itachi is quiet when he cums, you’ll know he has found his release as every muscle stiffens, his teeth gritted and the searing heat that coats the walls of your cunt.

Uchiha cum is sacred, not a drop is to be wasted so you best believe that it is either ending deep in your pussy or down your throat.

Let even a single drop fall from your lips and he’ll tsk softly.

“So wasteful, my beloved. I’m wounded, how do you plan on making it up to me?”

You’ll spend the next thirty minutes bringing him to orgasm again, simply so you can demonstrate that you won’t make the same mistake twice.

D - Dirty Secret

It only happens when he is sick, but he still doesn’t want anyone to know. Itachi loves to be babied.

This strong Uchiha male just wants to be rocked in your embrace when he isn’t feeling too good. He wants sweet forehead kisses, cooing melodies and no control.

He doesn’t do well when he is ill, pouting and whining that his throat is sore, his head hurts and he needs a tissue every ten seconds.

Considering how much pain this man has gone through, you’d be surprised by how easily he is floored by a common cold.

The man is close to sucking his damn thumb as he rests his head in your lap, nudging you gently to play with his hair.

How could you deny him when he looks this adorable and dependent on you.

E - Experienced

People seem to think that Itachi has bedded his fair share of women, but it’s not true.

He is far from a virgin, but he had little time for distractions such as sex.

Now that he has you, he is making up for lost time.

Itachi wants to experience everything and is very open to trying new things - well, he won’t know what he likes and dislikes if he doesn’t try everything once.

He’s a quick learner though and has never failed to make you a quivering mess.

The notches on his bedpost might be very low, but to say he is inexperienced would be an injustice to your man.

F - Favourite Position

He has to be in a certain mood for this position, but nothing beats how it makes Itachi feel as well as giving him the best view of your beautiful body.

He knows that you sometimes feel self-conscious about yourself, and it is completely unfounded in his eyes - he adores every inch of you.

What’s better than sitting with you on his lap at the edge of the bed, your back pressed to his chest as you both face the standing mirror that rests in the corner.

In this position he can caress you, narrating the journey his hands make before lifting you to slide his aching cock in your tight cunt - what a sight.

His whispered words are like magic, his lips feather light as he kisses your neck and shoulders. Itachi makes sure you watch the sinful image reflected in the mirror, forces you to recognise how fucking sexy you are and uses his hands to play with your tits and clit until you cream around his cock.

Nothing beats this position - nothing.

G - Goofy

Itachi will look at you with the most bemused expression when you try to make jokes. He doesn’t necessarily find them funny but he laughs because he finds you adorable.

He has a sense of humour but it is wickedly dark, like the most razor-sharp sarcasm - you will feel physical pain from his burns.

Goofy isn’t quite his thing, he has no interest in looking silly so he simply steers away from it. He can be lighthearted in other ways that suit his nature better.

H - Hair

Boy, does that man have good hair. His long hair is silken black gold spun by the Gods themselves.

He uses expensive hair care products, the price tag is enough to make your eyes bulge but he just laughs and waves you away. His shampoo smells like exotic orchids and it only heightens the mysterious air that surrounds him like a cloak.

Only you know the true Itachi and you love that he trusts you so implicitly.

He likes to let you comb out his lengthy locks, enjoying the gentle tune you hum whilst you work and now and then he will indulge your pleas to let you braid it.

Itachi is so pretty for you.

As for the rest of his body, the man is smooth and silky all the way down to his happy area. Short hairs nestle around the base of his dick, neatly maintained for your pleasure.

I - Intimacy

Intimacy with Itachi is unlike any other kind you have experienced. It can be either intense and soulful or light and irreverent.

He understands his emotions well, and although they may be very complex, he shows every facet of his soul.

Used to concealing his thoughts and intentions, it is cathartic that he does not need to hide anything from you. Itachi can bear his soul and still find unconditional love in your arms.

On the other end of the scale; he loves to spend hours in bed with you, chatting about nonsense, comparing hand sizes whilst you giggle at his reaction to how much smaller your hands are in his own and sharing hopes about the future.

Intimacy is an important part of your relationship, not a day goes by where he doesn’t let you know how cherished you are - make sure to return the gesture.

J - Jerk Off

There are times when Itachi finds himself parted from you, missions that mean nights spent alone.

He hasn’t told you, a little embarrassed by the ritual that has become a part of his nightly routine when away, but he strokes himself to the thought of you.

Itachi has so many moments of you and he stored away in his memory that it is like his own personal porn collection. It’s his way of feeling close to you even when the distance might be great.

The Uchiha is also a fan of fisting his long cock whilst he watches you get ready for the day ahead. You look so irresistible as you fasten your earrings. He knows you are watching him through the mirror and if the way you’re chewing your lip is any indication, he is about to find you crawling onto his lap.

“Am I doing it wrong beloved? Show me how to stroke it just right.”

K - Kink

We have to talk about the well-known breeding kink of the Uchiha men, and although Itachi is fairly unique amongst his clan, he is not unaffected by this trait.

He tried to hide it from you at first, he was pretty ashamed to already be obsessed with the idea of making you round with his child early in the relationship.

The way he would stare at your cunt once he had cum deep inside, his cock jerking and twitching was the biggest clue to his thoughts. He would practically growl if any creamy seed would dare to try to push out, pulling himself out just to gather it all up and press his cock back in to stuff you full. It was arousing, watching him so determined in his mission.

You’re on birth control, it was an agreement you made with Itachi so he could fuck you raw - nothing compares to the feeling of his naked cock dragging against your clenching walls.

Feeling especially bold one night, Itachi has you held tightly in a mating press, his mouth planting open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder as he ruts into you, and you decide to toy with him.

“Tachi, mmm. Wanna make you a daddy.”

He stops.

Blazing orbs of crimson stare into your soul, tightness lines his jaw and he looks absolutely feral. Perhaps you’ve made a mistake…

“Is that so?”

Itachi bends you even further in half, a hand flying to grip your chin as he resumes his thrusts.

“Get comfy beloved, you’re not moving even an inch until I’ve filled you to the brim.”

He is true to his word, pounding you into the mattress until you are sweat-soaked and delirious.

“You’ll look so beautiful carrying my child… when the time comes,” he says, stroking your belly gently.

He knows it was a game, but he will follow through when the time is right.

L - Location

Anywhere.

Itachi is down for fucking literally anywhere.

He’ll whisk you deep into the forest to brace you against a tree and take you furiously. He’d happily let you suck his cock in the shadowy recesses of Konoha, ever vigilant for prying eyes and teasing you about it.

“So hungry for my cock beloved? Couldn’t wait til we got home? I hope no one finds you looking so desperate.”

Itachi especially likes to fuck you in the kitchen. Slipping his hands around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder whilst you prepare food.

You already know what’s gonna happen, it is inevitable. He’s eaten you out on the kitchen island and now you’re bent over it with his cock drilling into your mess of a cunt, the lewd squelching making you blush like a ripened tomato.

“Stop squirming.”

M - Motivation

Itachi is a complex man. He has a lot on his mind, what feels like the weight of his clan on his shoulders and a rather pesky little brother to keep an eye on.

This means that every now and then, he isn’t in the mood and it’s down to you to change his mind.

So what sends this sinfully sexy man into feral beast mode?

He really gets a kick out of domesticity, add in a sexy twist as you slink around him completing chores in outfits that are best described as lingerie and he’ll be a slobbering mess in no time.

Did you really just bend over right in front of his face wearing that skirt, and fuck, are you wearing a garter belt and stockings?

You won’t make it to the bedroom, there is no time for that. Not when he could lift you against the nearest wall and slide straight into that needy little pussy.

“Am I neglecting you, beloved? Let me make it up to you.”

N - No

He won’t hurt you - and this includes emotionally and mentally, as well as physically.

Mind games are his speciality, but this is not something he would even contemplate with you. He couldn’t bear to see your face twisted in any kind of pain.

A few spanks to your butt are different, same with making you cry as he brings you orgasm after orgasm, but he’ll never cause you any kind of anguish.

He’d have no hesitation in slaughtering anyone that dared to even look at you in the wrong way.

O - Oral

Pleaseeeee, Itachi lives and breathes to bury himself between your soft thighs. He’d worship every inch of your juicy pussy for hours on end, pushing you closer into the realms of overstimulation.

You’d think the man was starving and you were the only thing that could slack his voracious hunger.

Itachi has serious oral game, he is packing a punch when he plays so sweetly with your aching clit. Rolling the nub between his lips in search of more of your nectar.

He is practically making out with your cunt and he won’t stop until you’ve gushed all over his mouth at least twice.

Why does he have to be so damn pretty? Thick black lashes fanning softly as he stares at you with those blazing carmine eyes, and the knowing smirk is enough to make you huff.

He’d rather give than receive, although he does enjoy you sucking him off. It’s more that he knows he can be a little rough when you wrap your cute lips around his cock. It’s such a sinful sight.

It will end in him face-fucking you, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he grips your hair and makes you deepthroat him. His hips thrust up with every bob of your head.

Itachi can’t bear wasting cum, get ready for a hot load right down your throat.

P - Pace

Itachi prefers a combination when it comes to pace.

He wants every stroke of his cock to be impactful, therefore he is gonna set a rhythm that is powerful but languid.

Even if you are on top, he is dictating the pace with his steely grip on your hips. Making every descent mind-numbing, lustful groans escaping both your throats and enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

This is a marathon, not a sprint so expect this to be drawn out until your muscles have dissolved into pure jelly.

Q - Quickie

He can take them or leave them.

If it’s a choice then he’d rather spend hours lost in the comfort and solace of your body, nothing quite takes the edge of his anxieties than making you blissfully happy.

Urgent mission? He needs to leave like ten minutes ago? Get ready for some steamy quick fucking.

Itachi makes it his personal mission to leave you adorned with his marks all over your throat and shoulders, just a reminder of who you belong to.

Losing himself in a bubble of pure lust that can only last minutes if he doesn’t want to be late.

“Be good, my beloved. I love you.”

R - Risk

Itachi Uchiha is not risk averse, in fact, he gets quite a kick out of seeing how far you’ll go with him.

Can he get you to bend to his lustful will in this crowded cafe?

His hand slips beneath the pretty tablecloth, resting gently on your knee. He feels you tense so he waits, Itachi is patient.

As soon as you relax he’ll be easing that hand up your thigh, tsking softly as you try to deny him entry. He can feel the heat radiating from you, he knows you are aching for him but you’re shy.

Not this time, but soon.

Itachi continues this game every time you visit this spot, and soon enough he is knuckles deep in your cunt as he tells you to be quiet.

“Aren’t you going to order, beloved? What would you like most?”

You almost say him, he says it’s flash through your eyes and he smirks - yeah, these are the risks he likes to take.

S - Stamina

When it comes to foreplay and building the tension, Itachi’s stamina is limitless. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, he can spend hours drinking your nectar. Making your lips puffy and swollen from his kisses, your clit far too sensitive.

If he is in the mood to put you under genjutsu, which is a rare treat, it’ll feel like he has spent hours with his hot wet mouth claiming your cunt. In reality it’s been five minutes, and you’ve much more to endure before he is willing to release you.

Itachi is good for a few rounds of sex before he is truly spent, and even once he knows he has no more to give, he is still so hard for you.

Before he pads away to grab a washcloth, he sinks into you for a final time, holding you still as he peppers your face with such sweet kisses.

T - Toys

Nope.

Hard pass from Itachi.

Why would he have something else bring you pleasure when he can do it himself?

His fingers are long and slender, perfect for reaching into your depths and coaxing the most delicious sounding moans from you. He’ll concentrate his chakra into the pads of his digits and stroke the energy straight into your g-spot.

A hand clamps on your thigh as you try to close them, your nails scrambling at his wrist but he refuses.

“C’mon my gorgeous girl, cum on my fingers. I can feel you clenching them, so needy.”

He can take care of your every need, no extras required.

U - Unfair

This really divides him.

On the one hand he loves you dearly. Itachi wants to lavish you with his time and attention, to make sure you truly know just how cherished you are.

But he really enjoys winding you up, it is like cat nip to an especially playful kitty.

He taps into his predator instincts, ready to pounce when you least suspect it.

Itachi will kindle your fires for what feels like an eternity before he give in, and sometimes he’ll even leave you to go to sleep entirely frustrated and furious with your lover.

The pretty yet smug smile that decorates his beautiful face is so infuriating. You’ll whimper, you’ll beg, make the cutest faces at him and he’ll still only kiss your forehead and wish you a good night.

He wants you raw, a tigress ready to bring down your prey and in the morning, he is more than happy to be your victim.

Is Itachi unfair? Yes.

Always? No, definitely not.

V - Volume

Itachi is not loud, not by any stretch of the imagination. He is softly spoken at the best of times, his tone low and laced with authority.

He’ll for sure groan as he sheathes himself in you for the first time, he’ll moan quietly against your sopping folds - the vibrations only heightening his actions - and he’ll hum appreciatively in his throat.

What he will do is narrates his actions, praise your heavenly body and make you feel like the most attractive girl in the whole damn world.

Itachi has an innate way of zoning in on the areas you hate the most, and loving them for what they are - they make you unique.

Stretch marks on your thighs? He is nuzzling them with his cheeks. Feel like your tummy is too soft? Itachi is lightly biting your velvet flesh. He is telling you how wonderful you are at all times whilst you lose your sanity to this man you love just as equally.

“I’m lucky to have found you, you saved my soul, my beloved.”

W - Wild Card

Has and will continue to fuck you in any onsen, at every opportunity he gets.

How mysterious that every other patron within the gently steaming waters all decide to leave or return to their rooms at the same time. It’s almost like some kind of spell has been cast. True enough, Itachi appears with glowing coals for eyes and the intent is clear.

He loves to play with you in the water, your pebbled nipples slick and delicious as they graze against his own chest.

Itachi will take you with your legs wrapped around his hips and then again with your upper half against the tiled edge. One hand on the small of your back as he arches you just right.

Don’t accept an invitation to the bathhouse from Itachi unless you are ready to get railed.

X - X-Ray

You’ve managed to find yourself sat atop your absolutely gorgeous man, Itachi’s head rests against the pillows with his raven hair fanning him like a dark halo.

His smile is cunning, knowing of your intent as you look down on him. His dark eyes shine with humour, sparking to scarlet when your nail grazes against his nipple. Itachi’s jaw is angular, with cheekbones many would kill for and you enjoy tracing it with your tongue. His lips are as soft as petals and simply perfect for kissing you soundly.

Itachi is lithe; strong but not in a bulky way. His strength is honed to perfection and it shows through the small muscles that define his stomach.

You could spend an age caressing his pale skin, committing every inch to memory. He is hairless right until you reach the happy zone, short black hair nestles around his cock.

Now this is an area you know intimately. He’ll groan as your dainty fingers grasp his base, he is thick but it’s length that really makes him stand out of the crowd - he is big in a “I’m gonna pound your cervix” way.

The shaft is fairly smooth except for the prominent vein that wraps around the underside to curve his left side.

“You like what you see?”

You nod fervently, and he crooks his finger until you are draped over his chest, shifting his hips and a hand curls around your ass to part you. Before you realise, he is spearing into you with a soft growl.

“Thought so.”

Y - Yearning

Itachi wants you, but he can be secretive.

Often he will make himself wait patiently, driving himself slowly insane by denying him your tantalising taste and feel.

It is almost as if he uses it as a form of training his mental defences, this man is practising torture on himself and there is no need.

He knows you’d be down for his loving as often as he wanted to give you it, but good things come to those who wait - words that Itachi lives by.

Why give in so readily when he can wait until you are both coiled springs ready to pop from the tension?

Z - Zzz

Itachi loves to sleep, sadly it doesn’t always love him in return.

He finds solace by wrapping a protective arm around your stomach, his hand resting over your heart and one leg draped over your waist.

To make up for the sleep that alludes him at night, he is more than willing to nap with you during the day.

“Come here,” he purrs, patting his lap.

You curl up like the cutest kitten and Itachi slowly sinks back until you are both cocooned on the bed and asleep in minutes.

#delirious writes #uchiha smut #itachi #itachi uchiha #itachi smut #ask game #itachi x reader #itachi fluff

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