#I dunno who would laugh at his expense

[diademreigned]

sign, sender walks into a sign and receiver sees (dataun'a cause depth perception hard)

meme

They'd only been walking through Gridania for a little bit, the stars being the only thing that could possibly guide them. Normally this wouldn't have been any ounce of a bad idea. Data had simply wanted to show Liun'a to the archer's guild, as they were still open at this hour, despite the stars lining the sky.

"It's not too far from here, I promise." Data beamed, reaching his hand out in case the other wanted to come a little closer, take his hand - whatever suited his fancy. Data wasn't ever one to pressure someone like that.

Especially not Liun'a. As timid and easy to jump from anxiousness as he was, strikingly different from how he was when they had first met of course. Time really did change things like this, time really altered whatever you thought you had known before.

"They'll love you, I just know it. We'll make sure to get you everything you need too. I can only make so much out there in the Fringes with the Gatekeepers. We won't tell them what we're doing of course."

Did that sound a little fishy? Possibly.

Normally Data would've seen the other Miqo'te at his side by now, completely at his hip as though he were glued there. When he didn't feel the timid touch of a shoulder, Data paused, turning his attention back behind him. Liun'a was back there of course, just moving at an angle. Still in his general direction of course.

"This way sweetie," Data spoke, waving his hand. "Sorry it's a little dark to see. I got you covered. I -"

Then that was it.

There was a rather large banging sound that came from behind, the lavender-haired Miqo'te slammed face-first into one of the chocobo signs that were just in passing. Liun'a must've thought it was close enough to his side that he didn't need to worry about it. Though . . . it was also on the side that housed the eye patch.

"Whoa, hey!" Data raced over, hands outstretched as the other staggered back and then forward, face in his hands. "Liun'a, are you all right? I should've warned you I'm sorry. Let me see, c'mere. . ."

Data lifted his hands until they were resting against the now brightly red cheeks. Though he couldn't tell they were red, but he could feel the heat completely resonating right off the skin, it was a little embarrassing to say the least.

Though Data wasn't going to laugh, who would laugh at a situation like this? Pulling some hair back from the other's forehead, Data pressed against the skin for anything.

"Does that hurt? Any swelling? Dizzy? Do you need to lie down? How's your head. You're tilting hold on." Data looped an arm around the other's shoulders in case he didn't quite remain standing.

They should've been more careful.

"C'mon, let's get you to the plaza, we can rest there for awhile." They knew that, Data knew that. Liun'a had only one eye, and the eyepatch was nothing more than a nuisance, especially during the night. How foolish he'd been to make him walk here. "I'll carry you when you're feeling well enough, that's on me. . . here, lay down a little. I don't think you have a concussion, and you're not bleeding."

Good thing Gridania was pretty much abandoned right now. For Liun'a sake of course.

#WARRIOR OF LIGHT // ♦︎ — › asks. #LIUN’A JAKKAYA * relations // ♦︎ despite everything; you’re still you and you’re still mine — › crystalmarred. #:: crystalmarred :: #:: queue :: #I dunno who would laugh at his expense #THE POOR PLUM HE GOT HURT ;;;

[devilfic]

part four to this series

cw: 18+ mdni, mentions of blood drinking, fantasizing about biting, miguel’s got a thing for “sir”, EXTREMELY suggestive, no explicit smut just miguel losing his mind. this is the horniest one yet.. sorry!

miguel cannot get the taste of you out of his mind. it hadn’t been the part of you he’d wanted, the part of you that overwhelmed him, but it had been close. throughout the day he’d catch himself licking behind his fangs even though he’d since flushed his mouth clean of you. sometimes, he’d nick his tongue on his canine and the taste of his own blood would remind him of you again.

jessica asked about the gauze on your arm while miguel was in the room and you’d had a quick response, though not one that would spare him the knowing look from his (other) right-hand woman, “oh, miguel and I were playing too hard.”

sure enough, jessica drew’s eyes narrow behind her glasses. she even pushes them up into the crown of curls and coils on her head so her disappointment really gets across, “aren’t you a little too old to be rough-housing, miguel?”

if it were just that, miguel could confidently say it was an accident. if this had been about the cut on your eye that had healed over weeks before, there’d be honest guilt on his face when he defended himself. but no, you had asked. you’d practically put your arm in his mouth. you’d asked for him to hurt you, and you’d liked it.

and he’d liked it too. he didn’t know if he could hide that part.

before he can think of what to say, you chime in, “he’s always careful. it was my fault this time.”

“I don’t get why you two have to fight all the time. can’t you try, I dunno, healing yoga?”

miguel tried to picture himself in a downward dog pose and almost started laughing. from the flicker of mirth across your features, you seemed to be picturing the same thing. then he accidentally pictured you in that pose, pictured himself standing behind you, pictured taking your waist in his claws and crouching over you to sink his teeth into your shoulder so he could taste you there, too.

he digs his heels into the floor to rid himself of the image. his voice is strained as he replies, “it was their idea. can’t help that it works.”

jessica is far too exhausted with life as a new mother to try to understand that. she waves a hand, her white flag for the conversation, “whatever. I just came to borrow your assistant for the day. is that alright with you?”

lyla materializes on miguel’s shoulder, one holographic leg crossed over the other, “who, moi?”

“no thanks, tinkerbell. I need a person. preferably with some muscle.”

miguel would find that funny but all he can think to ask is, “why?” but you’re already standing up and following jessica to the doors of his office. he feels a sudden queasiness at the thought of not seeing you for the rest of the day. the day itself had just started. his morning coffee hadn’t even gone cold.

he hadn’t been left alone without you since you’d started here. now, he’d spend the whole day alone?—lyla sings a goodbye next to his ear—with just lyla?

he stands, abruptly, making his desk shake and shift a few inches. the sound is enough to stop the two of you in your tracks. your eyes bore into his own, curious, and he feels silly like the first day you’d caught him mid-tantrum. he means to sound intimidating and authoritative, but his voice can’t help the weakness when he looks at you, “I didn’t say yes.”

jessica’s hard look is almost enough to make him sit back down.

but you smile, tilt your head to the side, turn fully to him, “sorry. can I go, mr. o’hara?”

in truth, you didn’t need to ask him. but he didn’t know what else he’d expected when he objected like that. he wanted to hear it. he’d wanted to hear you ask for permission, or better yet refuse jessica altogether. he wanted you to sit back down across the desk from him and crack jokes at his expense, tease him and cackle even though he was the butt of the joke  every single time. he wanted you to offer up a mini spar session after he came back from hunting down anomalies again just to get the adrenaline out of his system. he wanted you to pin him down and win, again, so he could flip you on your back when you least expected it and he could sink his teeth into your shoulder so he could taste you there, too-

miguel clears his throat and sits back down, painfully aware of where his blood was flowing to now. he waved a hand, murmured something noncommittal, but you’d really put the nails in his coffin. you bowed at the waist, smug like you always were when he was watching, and said in none too innocent of a tone, “thank you, sir.” and left.

miguel watched the doors shut. his ears tuned into the sound of jessica’s voice and yours mingling down the hallway, further and further away. he waited until you two were so far out of earshot that he couldn’t tell your mumble apart from the next spider’s. and then, he croaked out lyla’s name.

“yes?” she dragged out her response, the knowing, teasing lilt to her voice was more grating on his wound nerves than usual.

“lock the doors to my office, please. and turn off the lights.” his voice was a hair above a whisper. lyla did as told and quietly. “send the… send the society a message that I won’t be in for the next two hours.”

“shall I copy miss drew, too?”

“yes.”

“and… anyone else?”

miguel rests his forehead against his fist, taking even breaths in and out. he could feel the talons beneath his skin beginning to extend. his breath shudders, “yes.”

lyla hums, “anything else, miguel?”

“take a break for the afternoon.”

he can’t see her and he doesn’t want to see her (not right now, anytime but now) but he knows her code inside out, knows she’s questioning him. “that’s a first. got some business to take care of?” his answer is but a low, embarrassed growl, and that’s enough to send her off laughing into cyberspace.

a beat passes, then two. it’s quiet all the way up here in his office without the sounds of the other spider-people or lyla or jessica or you.

thinking about you brings back those images from earlier and when he bites into his clenched fist, he feels the sharp pain of his fangs breaking skin. the pain distracts him for all of two seconds and then he’s thinking of you on top of him, holding your arm out for him to bite you, except it’s your throat this time. you’re hovering over him, the smell at your neck and the bob of your swallowing throat overwhelm him.

you’re sitting on his lap in this very chair, hands clasped at his shoulders or gripping the arm rests or tied together behind his head as you lean in, press yourself flush against him, and bare your throat to him. he’d never wanted to bite anyone that wasn’t a threat to him, never wanted to taste the warmth of their blood as it couldn’t help but trickle onto his tongue, never wanted to hear and feel the guttural moan from you as you sink down on him.

“sir”. you’d called him “sir”. mr. o’hara, you’d done that before, but never sir. a wet and wild whine leaves his throat when he remembers how your voice wrapped around it.

before he goes any further, he sucks in a breath and removes his fist from between his teeth, collecting himself enough to summon lyla once more. the AI didn’t even bother to look in his direction when she appeared on the surface of his desk, her fingers swiping at some book she’d pulled up in front of her. this next “yes?” was just as dragged out, just as knowing, just as teasing.

“three hours.” miguel’s voice cracks out. lyla fades into thin air with a single, three-fingered salute.

part five

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @theclassicvinyldragon @marina-and-the-memes @sleepdeprived-barelyalive​​ @internal-soundtrack​​ @joceymoo​​ @x-ratedhimbo​​ @themedsaintworkin​​ @adamsloverboy​​ @giulia2372​​ @lemonrolls​​ @p1nkliquor​​ @syarblu​​ @trished​​ @serostapesweat​​ @lilith-lovecraft​ @epicy0n​

#also I'm sorry that this is the fic I remembered to tag my all fics followers on #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara imagines #miguel o'hara headcanons #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #across the spiderverse #marvel #mjwrites #i mean. what are you looking at me like that for

[d6volution]

Reader who is just as much of a jackass as Jax is. Both of you are competing for the “best prank” on the rest of the circus members. However, one day Jax decides to ask Caine for a “massager” claiming you complained about muscle aches. Jax gives it as a gift, the reader not knowing the outfit contains the toy. He wants you to wear on the next adventure and hopes to push your buttons. Whether the reader gets revenge is up to you.

i think i get it! hopefully this is okay 🫶🏽

tags: make shift vibrator, fingering, outdoors, cursing cause i didn't feel like censoring it.

more below the cut. | minors dni.

"You're kiddin' ... there's no way Zooble would sleep through that." Jax grinned, at you .. a hand on his hip as you both walked through the halls at a moderate pace.

"Mhm, wait til you see them." Was all you said, clearly confident of your own doings.

Like clockwork, Zooble appeared, "What are you two assholes staring at?" Zooble squinted.

Jax couldn't help it, a thunderous roar of laughter erupted from his mouth and held his stomach. Pointing at Zooble with the opposite hand.

"What the hell is so funny?" Zooble didn't notice , they were so used to switching and swapping parts on their body that they failed to notice the comically bouncing googly eye on their face, replacing their usual left eye.

"N—Nothing, Zoobs. You look great.." You giggled and yanked Jax away before he gave away the joke before it had its time to play out.

You guys rounded the corner, "That puts me ahead three points, bunny boy." You said smugly.

"What? No way." He rolled his eyes, and the laughing fit quickly wore off.

"What do you mean, no way? Those were the rules !" You huffed, and relished in your frustration.

"The rules, of my game, dollface."

"Should've known you'd cheat.."

"Look, how about this, next adventure we go on. Double the points. Whoever comes out on top wins. Simple." He shrugs his shoulders.

"Hmp. Fine, you've got a deal." You were planning to get the one up on him. Even if it meant humiliating the other members in the process. There was nothing else to do in this digital world, so why not have some fun at the expense of others?

You two parted ways for the night, and unbeknownst to you Jax had a devious plan already cooked up.

"Hey, Caine."

The ringmaster was cleaning up the mess from the last adventure, "Oh , hello there Jax! What can I do for you?" His voice boomed like usual.

"You know, y/n said they've been havin' some trouble with... uh, back aches. real bad back aches. Needs, I dunno.. a massager or something. Got anything like that?" He gestured.

"Hmm.. I suppose I can cook something up!" He pretened to dig in his pocket, his arm disappearing all the way down to the forearm until he pulled out a make shift massager that had multiple vibrating parts.

Jax's grins grew wide, it was almost creepy how narrow his eyes got. "Thanks , Caine. You're the best." He caught the massager such Caine tossed to him. Jax waved and quickly went to his room. He spent the entire night carefully crafting an outfit for you, though right in the crotch the vibrator was hidden inside the cloth. The things you could make happen here we almost comical. But, Jax took whatever advantage he could get. No matter how ridiculous.

Now lastly. The remote. He'd be able to control whenever the "massager" turned on and off , plus fluctuate its intensity.

The next morning came in a flash, maybe because he was up throughout the night.. no matter. It's not like they get tired anyways.

He showed up at your door, outfit in hand. He knocked until you opened it.

"Jeez, Jax first thing in the morning and— ..... whats that..?" You pointed at the clothes folded in his hands, it was a one piece outfit but it cut off to make shorts at the bottom.

"For you, dummy." He teased and shoved it into your arms.

"You must be out of your mind if you think I'm wearing this Jax." You scoffed and held it up in front of you. It wasn't too provocative..  you just didnt trust him.

"C'mon doll, don't be a loser. Just wear it,— wear it and successfully pull one prank on a member and the winning title is all yours." He spiced up the deal, grinning at you.

You knew there had to be a catch, but if he thought you weren't going to take advantage of this he'd be wrong. "Fine. I'll win, and when I do. You have to anything I say for the entire day."

"Deal." He responded a little too quickly and you shut the door in his face. His smile remained and he hummed to himself as he went looking for the others while you changed.

It was odd how well this outfit fit you, snug but not too tight.. just when did he get your measurements..? Ugh, whatever. It was a little uncomfortable in certain areas , but what were you expecting? Jax to be some master tailor?

"I can't believe I'm doing this.." You muttered before exiting your room, meeting up with the rest of the lot just in time. Caine was explaining the ins and outs of todays adventure. Something about fishing at the digital lake. You weren't paying attention, trying to figure out a quick prank to pull on an unsuspecting member so you could get out of this outfit.

BUZZZZ.

You jumped and yelped, covering your mouth as you felt something vibrating against your clit. Your cheeks went red and you tried to keep still as a few eyes darted to you, but only for a moment. 'What the, fuck?' You thought, and immediately looked at Jax. Unfortunately he wasn't even looking at you.

"Alright, now go on my little superstars! Good luck!" Caine ended his speech and disappeared in puff of smoke.

You all exited the tent and headed towards the lake.. just then you fell another buzz and stumbled to a stop, Kinger and Gangle walked past you with concerning looks... followed by Jax. You walked with him , cheeks still red.

"Jax. I'm taking this stupid outfit off."

"Fine, you'll lose immediately though.. don't say I didn't warn ya." He said and seemed completely unbothered, clearly aware of how competitive you can be.

"Th.. That's not fair and you know it." You growled under your breath.

"Lighten up doll, maybe this is just what you need. A little fun and pleasure." He shrugged before the buzzing started again, and you let a whine slip past your lips before biting down on your bottom lip.

"Whoops.. hand slipped."

"You're going down you, little pervert."

You felt like steam was going to erupt from your ears. You pushed past him, flustered and frustrated. He just chuckled as you stormed off. Clearly pleased with himself.

The buzzing stopped and you breathed , you had to come up with something.. maybe you'd hook Gangle's fishing line to one of her ribbons so when she tries to cast it, it'll go all wrong and make her unravel.

The plan was nearly perfect .. except everytime you tried to distract gangle Jax pressed that damn button and the vibrator buzzed against your thobbing clit.

Every time you tried to initiate your plans , it was always interrupted. The buzzing didn't even stay on long enough for you to reach your climax so you were constantly being edged.. you had to take a break, you could feel your lewd jucies running down your inner thighs..

"I'm going to kill him.." You said, but the words left your mouth pathetically. You leaned against a tree, far from the others.. maybe if you came then you could .. function at least.

"Oh, wondered where you ran off to. Havin' some trouble there doll?"

"N.. No, Jax you'd better not—"

BUZZZZZ.

You almost crumpled to your knees but Jax was right in front of you, holding you against the tree. "Poor thing, can't even stand. How ya gonna win like this, huh?"

Your eyes were glassy, legs shaking. "Y.. You asshole.." Your legs were trembling and you could feel Jax's hand sliding up your torso.

"How about this, give up and I'll let ya cum dollface. No strings attached." He stared at your helpless form. Eyes clearly foggy with lust.

"N.. No way, hhck..!" The buzzing got more intense and you finally collapsed to the floor.

".. O..Okay , please..! please let me cum, Jax.." You whined, your cunt puffy and throbbing with need.

"Heh, that's what I thought.. good game, y/n." He croutched down in front of you. His body pretty much blocking yours fron any eyes that could possibly end up seeing you two.. he pushed aside the shorts and your panties and plunged two fingers inside of you without a second thought.

You yelped and instinctively scooted back but the tree kept you in place.

"Shh.. someone might hear ya, babe. Just cum on my fingers real quick yeah?" He whispered into your ear and your cunt convulsed around his fingers at the thought. You grabbed his arm but he didn't stop, still hammering his fingers in your squelching cunt.

"Fuck... you're so wet." He muttered and stared at your cunt as it swallowed up his fingers.

"Jax!" You yelped and your body jolted as you came on his fingers, panting a little.

"Ya good , doll?" He asked, slowly removing his fingers from your dripping snatch.

You nodded and helped you adjust your clothes, before assisting you to your feet. "How about you go get changed.. I'll make up an excuse if the others say something." He said in a more gentle voice now, his eyes were still wild with lust but he figured now may not be the time.

"R..  Right .. thanks, Jax." You still felt numb down there, your legs still a bit shaky.

"Oh, you still lost by the way. Heh."

Of course you did.

#the amazing digital circus #ask #minors dni #jax tadc #jax x reader

[my-castles-crumbling]

The Plan

Short and fluffy Wolfstar proposal! AU- No Voldemort!

He was going to be sick.

Alright, that was a little dramatic.

Nope, he was going to be sick.

He shouldn’t have told anyone, shouldn’t have asked for James’s help with the ring, shouldn’t have blabbered on to Pete and Lily and Marlene and Regulus and Merlin-knew-who-else he’d nervously talked to about his plans.

Because he’d wanted it to be perfect. It had to be perfect. Remus was perfect, after all, so he deserved something just as amazing as he was.

But now everyone knew, so he couldn’t chicken out. Everyone knew his plans for the evening and they were all waiting to hear how it went.

Not that anyone believed it wouldn’t go well. Anyone but Sirius, who had the horrible, sinking feeling that he would mess it all up somehow.

But he pushed himself to continue. He could do this.

The restaurant was immaculate, the food divine, the waiter attentive and kind. They’d talked and laughed and bickered as only they could and Sirius almost forgot about the unnaturally heavy box in his pocket.

He knew that he had to be the one to do this. It wasn’t that Remus didn’t want to get married. They’d talked about it, hypothetically, and Sirius had seen the longing in his boyfriend’s eyes. It was that, even after years together-even longer pining for each other-and Sirius assuring him daily that he wanted nothing more than to be with Remus, that there was nothing more important than Remus, he knew the taller man would never overcome his self-doubt enough to get down on one knee. He knew that and accepted it and loved him for it.

But he also fucking hated him for it because now he was fighting his entire body not to throw up his very expensive meal as they strolled through Hogsmeade. He was not the most self-assured, either, when it came right down to it. Sure, he put on a confident mask and he gave less than zero fucks about what strangers thought, but a childhood with Walburga was enough to make him worry far too much about what those closest to him thought. He had literal nightmares about losing his loved ones, about them leaving him and never coming back.

He had his plan memorized, though, after going over it a million times with a very excited James, who had already 'called' Best Man, so he guided Remus up the path, toward the Shrieking Shack.

“I don’t want to go that way, Pads,” Remus protested, just as Sirius knew he would.

“Just for a minute,” Sirius whispered, pulling his reluctant boyfriend along, throwing him a pleading look that he knew would make him fold.

“Dunno why you want to go this way…” the taller man muttered. “Don’t want to be reminded of this.”

It was true, it wasn’t the best thing to remind Remus of, and was surely a risky place to do anything such as this. But he had a plan.

When they arrived at the crest of a hill, Sirius stopped, allowing Remus to take in the view of the old, broken-down Shack from afar. After a moment, Remus asked, “Can we go now? I-”

But then he turned around towards Sirius, who was on one knee.

“What the fuck, Sirius?” Remus asked, looking a mixture of shocked, angry, and hopeful. He also looked ready to bolt.

“I know this is a weird place. I know, just- just let me explain,” Sirius said hurriedly, wanting to stop Remus from yelling or running off or even saying no.

Remus nodded mutely, a hand covering his mouth.

“I…I knew, when I proposed, you would come up with some bullshit about you being a werewolf, and how we shouldn’t get married because of that. And how I was being stupid and ignoring the– I dunno, the danger, or whatever ridiculous word you’ll think of. So I thought about it, and I was like, well, then fuck that. I’ll propose in front of the damn Shack. Because then you can’t accuse me of ignoring anything. It’s right there,” he gestured to the Shack, “I see that part of you, I’m not ignoring it. I love that part of you just as much as the rest of you. I want all of it. All of you.”

Remus still stared down at him, but there were tears forming now. Sirius sincerely hoped they were good tears because he was really baring his heart, now, and his legs were starting to cramp.

“I…I really just need you to get over yourself and accept the fact that I’m going to love you for the rest of my fucking life, Moony,” Sirius shrugged. “You really can't do anything about it. I’ve never been so sure about something as I am of that. And I…I’m really hoping that maybe, you’d be willing to love me for the rest of our lives, too? Because I...really, that's all I want. And…erm… for you to marry me?”

Yes, those were definitely tears falling from Remus’s eyes now. He looked almost delirious. “Are you…are you actually serious?” he whispered reverently, removing his hand from his mouth to reveal a grin. And he must have been half-mad with emotion because he knew better than to say that phrase.

But his grin gave Sirius all the confidence he needed. He stood up and grabbed Remus’s hand, beaming. “Yeah, Moons, I’m Sirius. Sirius Lupin, hopefully.”

Remus let out a choked mixture of a laugh and a sob. “You- fucking- ridiculous- prat!” he sniffed through his happy tears, allowing Sirius to slide the ring on his finger.

-

Hope you liked it! I would love if you left comments and kudos here!

#marauders fanfiction #marauders #harry potter #marauders era #fanfic #sirius black kinnie #wolfstar #sirius black #harry potter marauders #marauders fandom #marauders fic #marauders headcanon #the marauders #remus loves sirius #remus x sirius #sirius being sirius #sirius orion black #sirius x remus #remus lupin #remus john lupin #remus being remus #sirius loves remus #wolf

[sugawhaaa]

how would you feel about writing a Jiung x Fem!Reader fic where her long time boyfriend cheats on her, she goes out to drink with Jiung who's her best friend (and has a crush on her), he finds out about what happened and because they're a little drunk they decide Jiung will help her get revenge and have a little too much fun together ;) it's up to you to decide if reader and bf will stay together and Jiung will be her secret affair OR reader will dump her bf and start a new story with Jiung OR they're scared of what they did and end the friendship or whatever finale you think would suit best the main plot

JIUNG X READER

Strawberry

🍓Warings::smut!mentions of alcohol!mentions of abusive relationships!

🍓Pairing::switch!jiung x switch!fem!reader

🍓Genre:: multiple positions, cream pie, some food involved, blowjob, handjob, praise, hair pulling, degradation, orgasm denial, he calls you a slut like...a few times but not much, squirting

🍓A/N:: I'm so close to 3k and I can't believe it like 🤯 never thought my little writing hobby would take me this far...

"So let me get this straight. He had been cheating on you for a few months and he filmed them uh doing it and thought it'd be a good fucking idea to post it?" Jiung said with his right arm leaning on the counter of the bar. You threw another shot down your throat. It burned so good. You put the glass down on the counter.

"Yeah, pretty much," you look into Jiungs big eyes. He shakes his head.

"I mean seriously," he leans back and turns his chair to you. "After like three years of dating and going out all the time he gave up all of you for someone like her?" He said as he gestured to you.

"Yup, she's so fake and plastic like ew," you say as Jiung takes a sip of his margarita. "I gave him everything he ever wanted. Can we go out this weekend? Well, I had plans but sure babe! Can you do the laundry for me I hurt my back at the gym. Sure babe! Can we fuck I'm stressed? Of course babe!" You impersonated his manly voice in a mocking tone. Jiung laughed.

"You know, I never really trusted that guy," Jiung starts as you take a swig of your wine. You shoot an eyebrow at him. "Of course, I was happy for you! You found a guy who loved you as much as you loved him! It was great but after a while, I started questioning him. He had some red flags pop up and I was a little worried," Jiung explained before taking another sip of his margarita. You nodded. It looked like Jiung had one more thing to say so you let him continue. "He even talked smack about me to my face," he said as he lightly spun his margarita.

"Wait what?" You were taken aback. That didn't seem like something your ex would do to Jiung at all.

"It was after Christmas I think. You gave me a more expensive gift than him and he got pissy about it. He said 'Don't try me punk' or something like that I dunno," Jiung shrugged before taking another gulp of his margarita. His Adam's apple flexing.

"Wow, I didn't know he said that...well, I'm glad I spent my good money on you anyway," you said as you crossed your arms. Jiung finished off his margarita.

"So, I know now might not be the greatest time but remember how anytime you and him did it there were things you were gonna tell me about it but your ex said not to tell anyone?" Jiung said as he put his glass on the table along with his elbow.

"Well...it might not be for everyone's ears. Why don't we head back to your place, it's kinda getting late," you suggested as you stood up.

"Sounds good," he nodded his head and stood up as well. You chugged the last bit of your wine and paid for all your drinks. Splitting the total between Jiung. You leave the bar and walk to Jiungs Place. You were a little tipsy but not enough to make walking around town a scare. There was some idle chit chat and making you flustered when he'd ask about what you were gonna tell him at his house.

You finally got to his house and leaped onto his couch. Jiung took off his jacket and hung it up as you stretched on his couch. The sweet smell of him filling your nose.

"So, shall we continue our conversation," he smiled as he sat on the couch with you. You huffed.

"Well, he was a little bit of a jerk when it came to sex. Whenever wherever he wanted to do it, it would happen. But if I asked to do it he would reply with some bs like 'Can't you just wait?' But he said in such a rude tone," You complained as you laid down on the couch, barely giving Jiung any room to sit. "Not to mention he had no rhythm," you say with a swing of your hand. Jiung chuckled. "The amount of orgasms I had to fake just to get him to piss off is pathetic," you sigh as you play with your hair.

"Wait what? How do you fake an uh orgasm?" He asked with pink cheeks.

"It's pretty easy really, it's kind of a girl thing," you look at him ignoring his flustered state.

"I still don't get it," he shrugged.

"So when a girl cums she gets tighter it goes like woosh," you demonstrate with your hands how it works. Jiung looks like he understands but is also concerned. "But women can intentionally get tighter, we can control it," you demonstrate with your hands again.

"Ohhh," a light bulb ignites in jiungs head. "So you just do that and act like it feels really good right?" He says as he watches your hands, his cheeks pink.

"Yeah pretty much," you shrug. "Do you have any strawberries?" You ask suddenly.

"Uh maybe? Why?" He answered and watched you get up and go to the fridge. You find the package of strawberries and take them out to the living room. You open the package and lean over the arm rest.

"Open~" you say as you hold a strawberry above Jiungs mouth. He hesitates but he opens his mouth. You slip the strawberry into his mouth and he bites down on it. You pull the stem off from his mouth and clean the juice off his lips. He blushes madly. Without thinking clearly you put your lips against his. Jiungs eyes widened. No words could be spoken. You set the package of strawberries down and break the kiss. Jiung swallows the strawberry.

"Y-Y/N?" He said as he watched you closely. Trying to read your confusing body language. "I...we should talk," he says with a quivering voice, his body shifting.

"I find actions speak louder than words," you hold his cheeks with your gentle grip. You kiss him passionately, adding tongue this time. He moans softly into the kiss. He leans back onto the couch and you rest on top of him.

"I've loved you for so long," he said between kisses. You look up at him slightly shocked.

"You were always a hottie," you chuckle before biting his neck. He moaned quietly as his hand went to his mouth. You slid your hands up his shirt and feel up his abs, tracing each one of his muscles. Occasionally you kiss and bite his neck and shoulders, leaving little marks. His long hands soon followed suit. His hands inching up your stomach. The touch of his cold hands makes your stomach fluctuate. His hands went around your back as you continued to lick his neck. You tug at his shirt. "May I?" You look at him through hooded eyes.

"S-Sure," he blushes and lets you pull his shirt off. You lick his chest down to his nipple. You feel his body jerk up into yours and he pulls at your shirt. You wanted to drag this out, tease him, graze over his cock a few times before actually jerking him off. Edging him until he screams out your name but you couldn't wait. It felt like you'd already been waiting years to feel him inside you.

"Jiung..." you say softly as you remove your hands from him, sitting on top of his thighs. He tilts his head to show you he's listening. "I know how sudden this is but...I'm so horny I can't do this," you whine as you curl up on his chest. He pats your head as he listens to you. "I need you inside me..." you whisper and wait for him to reply.

"Are you sure you want that? This early?" He takes your chin to make you look up at him. You nod with doe eyes. "As long as you're okay with it..." he strokes your hair and kisses your forehead. "I don't have any condoms on me though..." he says as he looks at the living room table, the strawberry pack still on it.

"No, no condom it's fine," you shake your head and take off your shirt. He looks at you surprised.

"As long as you're sure..." he seems a bit skeptical but whatever you want goes in this situation. The two of you stand up and take off all remaining clothes. When he sees you take off your bra his cheeks flush. He never thought he'd be blessed enough to see this view. Once prepared you lay down on the couch and waited for Jiung. He crawled on top of you and pumped his cock a few times. "Are you sure?" He asks one last time as he looks down at you, biting your lip.

"I'm sure baby, please, put it in," you whined as you grabbed his hand to stop him from prepping anymore than he had to because all he was doing was killing time. He took a deep breath and agreed to do what you pleaded. You bite your lip and watch as he teases his tip against your soaked folds. You buck your hips slightly in anticipation. He finally slowly slides inside you. You jump and grab his shoulders. He was much bigger than your ex...you felt your walls stretch to engulf all of his length.

You moaned loudly and arched your back. "So deep," you whimper draggily.

"Your so much tighter than I thought," Jiung groans as buries himself inside you. He takes a deep breath. "Can I move?" He asks as he looks down at you.

"W-Wait just a bit longer," you say hoarsly. You took a few deep breaths before nodding. "Okay," you look up at him and wait for him to start. One last deep breath between the two of you rings in the air before he slowly pulls out a bit and ruts back into you.

All the built-up tension between you and him throughout the years was finally being let out and you felt like you could see the light right then and there. He slowly continued to thrust up into you. Slow but consistent. Nothing like your ex but...your ex never made you feel like heaven anyways.

You whimper as he hits that gummy spot buried inside you. Your legs jerk up and a shiver runs down your body. This doesn't go unnoticed by Jiung of course and he continues to abuse that spot. He chuckled and threw his head down.

"Fuck you feel so good," he said raspily as he continued to hit your G-spot. Jiung's speed started increasing and you couldn't help but wrap your legs around his waist. He leaned down and kissed you. Your lips collide and tongues interlock. You break the kiss to hoarsely speak.

"I think I'm getting close," you whimper out before biting your lip. You feel your walls tighten around his length but it doesn't slow him down one bit. If anything it persuades him to go faster. You throw your head back and let out an aching moan, your nails clawing at his shoulders. Jiung shakes his head, his platinum hair hanging in front of his eyes. He's unable to move his hair due to his hands being glued to your hips.

One final hit to your g-spot and your body lunges forward. Your body shakes lightly as you cum all over him. He quickly pulls out and sprays his load on your stomach. His arms shake as he tries to hold his body up. You tuck back his hair to see his eyes glistening. You chuckle lightly as your chest heaves.

"I have never," he starts before taking a minute to breathe. "I've never felt so good," he chuckles before placing one of his hands to his chest.

"I can make you feel even better," you say as you sit up. He looks confused before you push him to lay on the couch.

"W-What are you-Ah!" He moans as you put your lips around his tip. You can see the shiver run down his body. "Wait, wait, wait, fuck!" He tries to squirm out of your hold but he ends up moaning and throwing his head back. Your hand is around the base of his cock while the rest is in your mouth. His fresh semen tingled on your tongue. Jiung grabs your hair as you roll your tongue around his sensitive tip. He swallowed hard and whimpered quietly.

You twisted your hand up and down from his base to your lips, bobbing your head as well. Due to all the blowjobs your ex wanted you were basically an expert with no gag reflex. "Y/N-ah, please god," he rambled nonsense as you started going faster. The orgasm he just had hasn't fully settled yet which made him extra sensitive and prone to cumming early. Your goal was to make him cum back to back and by the looks of it, it was going good. He tugged your hair one last time before cumming in your mouth.

You slipped your lips off of his tip and watched as he came on his stomach. Just like he did to you. You smirked and swallowed the semen in your mouth. He threw his head back and relaxed. You licked up his stomach and sent shivers down his spine.

"You little-!" Jiung tried to sound angry at you for not giving him any warning for giving the best blow and hand job but in reality, he was seeing stars. You smiled up at him with some of his cum dripping down your lips. His heart skipped a beat and he sighed. "Don't look at me like that, I'm still gonna get back at you," he said as you laid down on the couch, stretching. "Don't act so coy with me!" He grumbled before picking you up swiftly. He rolled you over on your stomach and you decided to comply with whatever he was doing. He lifted your hips into the air as you grabbed onto the armrest for support.

He spread your folds and licked up your pussy. You jumped and covered your mouth, the sudden motion catching you off guard. You then hear the leather couch squeak as he goes on his knees. He then smoothly pushes his dick inside you. You moan loudly and grab onto the armrest. This new position made every inch of your desperate cunt more sensitive. He started to thrust into you relentlessly. You moaned out mercilessly, it was like you couldn't stop yourself. Every time he thrusted back into you your voice cracked.

"You like that you little slut?" He grunted as he continued pounding into you. You nodded your head with a whimper. "Hm? I couldn't hear you, use your words baby," he smirked. 5 seconds ago he was whimpering beneath you but bow he was in charge of you.

"Y-Yes!" You shouted into the empty living room.

"Anytime you think about running back to that dick head remember this hey?" He snickered before pulling your hair back. You whimpered with a little nod. "How deep inside you I am, how I just abuse your little pussy," he groaned before letting go of your hair, drawing his attention to your hips. Grabbing them to move you up and down his length even faster.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm c-close," you stammer out as you claw at the couch.

"Your not gonna cum until I tell you," he cooes in his velvet voice that makes your legs shake. At this point he's pounding your G-spot so hard it's moving the couch. You don't know how much longer you can handle this denial and degradation. Tears poke at your eyes, your hair a mess in your face but you're too distracted by his cock buried inside you to care.

"Can I cum!? Please!" You whine breathlessly. Jiung stays silent before finally replying.

"Cum now," he says raspily. He continues to thrust rhythmically as you cum which causes you to squirt all over the couch. You moan loudly before biting your lip. This rush tips Jiung over the edge as well, his cum fills you up as your body shakes. He pulls out of you carefully and you lose all strength in your body. You lay down on the couch and Jiung lays on top of you, hugging you. "Did you just?" He asks in a soft voice. You nod your head.

"Sorry about the mess," you flutter your eyes shut and rest your head down.

"No, no, don't worry about it," he says as he pats your head. He kisses your head and plays with your hair. Jiung looks at the strawberries on the table. He reaches for the package and opens it up. He picks out a strawberry. "Open~" he hums as he holds in above your mouth.

#p1harmony #p1harmony smut #p1h jiung #p1harmony scenarios #p1harmony imagines #choi jiung #p1harmony jiung #jiung #p1harmony fluff #requests #request #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #fanfic

[ticklishraspberries]

Movies Make Ticklers More Creative (Billy/Stu)

Summary: A bad horror film leaves Stu seeking entertainment in other forms, at the expense of Billy. (Thank you to the person who suggested I use the film Ghoulies as the movie in this fic!! Here is a YouTube link to the tickle scene in this movie, it is...Something for sure!! I haven’t seen the whole movie btw, just that clip as well as reading a few articles about it, so sorry if I’ve gotten any of the lore wrong. Regardless, it has an 8% on Rotten Tomatoes, so...)

As usual, Stu’s parents aren’t home, and he is filling the silence with the sounds of beer cans cracking open, hands rustling in the bowl of popcorn, girlish screams from the television speakers, and Billy’s commentary from the couch beside him.

After making their way through all the classic horror films, the boys have resorted to watching whatever they can find, whether they end up being fantastic deep cuts, or they absolutely suck, but joking about it makes it worth the watch.

Tonight’s movie is proving to be the latter. It’s a film called “Ghoulies” from ‘85, and it’s…Well, it’s keeping them entertained, for sure, but there is nothing disturbing (nor inspiring) about it. The scares are cheap, and the dialogue is atrocious.

Billy comments that the main chick, Donna, is kind of hot. Stu hums in agreement, but his heart isn’t quite in it. When the guy takes her out by the lake, though, their interests are piqued. This should be the part where Donna loses her chance of becoming the final girl, where she loses her virginity to the first schmuck who tries, and both the teens die a terrible death for daring to engage in premarital sex.

But that’s not what happens at all. Sure, it’s PG-13, but they were expecting at least a little action. But no, Donna and Mark stay fully-clothed and…Well, Stu snorts out a laugh as the kid starts tickling her instead of trying to bang her.

“This might be the worst movie that we’ve ever watched,” Billy says. His tone is deadpan, but there’s a smirk tugging on his lips.

“Oh, by far,” Stu agrees. “It’s not scary, and it’s not sexy. You can be missing one, but not both.”

Donna on screen is shrieking, begging Mark to stop tickling her. The scene feels eternally long, and since the screaming is that of laughter rather than fear, it feels much more ear-splitting than usual.

Stu looks over and sees Billy’s face screwed up in annoyance, and that sort of moping will just not do. Sure, the film sucks, but is good company not enough to make the guy happy?

“What a way to seduce a girl, eh?” Stu says, trying to crack some jokes and lighten the mood. “Tatum would nail me in the balls if I tried that.”

Billy just exhales through his nose in amusement, and Stu decides that isn’t enough.

“I mean, dude’s got no game. What did he say to her?”

“In the creepy voice? I dunno, I think he called her a little girl though, which is fucking weird.”

“Gross. She seems to like him, though. Maybe we should be taking notes,” Stu says, placing his beer down on the coffee table. They’re basically ignoring the movie by now, and he’s overcome with the strange desire to touch his best friend in that moment, to make him laugh like the girl in the movie, and that weird-ass scene gave him perfect inspiration on how to do so.

He and Billy have been friends since middle school, and Stu’s seen sides of him that no one else has. He’s pretty sure he’s the only person who has ever seen Billy cry, other than his parents. He’s the only person that knows Billy used to be scared of the dark, or that his mom had to sleep in his bed with him until he was ten because of that fear.

And, of course, he knows about the more fucked up shit that goes on in Billy’s head. He’s seen it first hand.

Stu also knows that Billy is ticklish, something he found out by accident and rarely used to his advantage, because last time he tried, he’d ended up with a pretty gnarly bruise on his jaw. But the risk seems worth it at that moment, so Stu takes his chances.

“Quit looking so miserable. The movie is shit, but I’m not,” Stu teases. Trying to mimic the weird, high-pitched voice the guy in the movie had adopted, he continues. “Cheer up, little boy!”

He reaches out a hand and prods at Billy’s stomach, which makes Billy shove at his hand with a suppressed huff of laughter.

“Fuck off,” he says.

Stu does not fuck off. Instead, he scoots closer on the couch, effectively trapping Billy between the arm of the couch and his body, and continuing to wiggle his long fingers against Billy’s stomach.

The light of the television illuminates Billy’s scrunched up expression, trying to hold back his laugh and seem pissed at Stu’s immaturity, but it only lasts a few moments before the bright, boyish giggles that are so unlike his personality come spilling out.

Stu grins in triumph. Billy’s actually sort of adorable when you get him like this: Guard down, acting his age, letting loose. He squirms like a fish on a hook, and Stu has to dodge his flailing limbs. His hair falls messily into his face, his cheeks look flushed.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you—” he grits out, but it doesn’t sound intimidating at all.

“No you won’t,” Stu replies. “You’d miss me too much.”

Billy lets out a noise somewhere between a growl and a whine, before dissolving into laughter again as Stu’s fingers dance up his sides. It isn’t until his ribs become a target that Billy truly fights back, grabbing at Stu’s wrists and trying to shove his hands away.

Stu takes that as a sign to back off, because although it was a risk he willingly took, leaving this without injury is still the preferable outcome. He watches with a grin as Billy catches his breath, arms wrapped protectively around his middle.

“You’re an asshole,” Billy says.

“I know,” Stu replies.

Their eyes meet for a moment, and Stu feels his face flush for reasons he isn’t quite ready to confront.

By the time they look back up at the screen, Mark and Donna are dead and they’ve completely lost track of the plot. Neither of them are complaining, because it was a fucking dumb plot to begin with. Leaving the crushed cans and empty bowl behind, the two boys climb the stairs and crash into Stu’s bed for the night, a common occurrence that somehow feels different this time, like something between them has shifted, just enough to make Stu’s heart skip a beat when Billy falls asleep with his face pressed into Stu’s shoulder.

Like this, he looks innocent. He looks beautiful.

Stu makes a mental note to research other horror films with tickle scenes in them, just in case he needs an excuse to hear that giggle again. Even if the movies suck, spending time with Billy is worth all the shitty scares in Hollywood.

#stuilly #stuilly fluff #stuilly fic #scream 1996 fic #scream 1996 tickle #scream tickle fic #scream ticklefic #stuilly tickle #scream 1996 #stu macher #billy loomis #billy x stu #stu x billy #ticklefic #tickle fic #raspberry writes

[erosuguru]

Undress me everywhere

Reo Mikage X reader, characters are +18, Reo is down bad for reader, Reader is female, 1.3k words

CW: transitions that make zero sense Mirror sex but only briefly, nutting inside, very slight overstimulation, no proof reading

Note: this is literally 90% word vomit and the title is from that Barbie Girl song (not that its bad i love that song) I finished my last final today and I wanted to celebrate, have sum Reo sorry this is trash im gonna go take a nap

“How about this, love?” Reo framed another dress over your body, settling the sleeves over your shoulders as you felt the fabric settle over your current outfit giving you a preview of yourself in the garment he chose.

“It’s a little too... flashy?” You tried objecting and Reo chuckled, setting aside the dress he suggested.

“Why so humble my love? You know you can indulge with me!” He insisted, smiling at you as he sat at the edge of your shared bed. even after years of being together, he found it adorable how you uncomfortably scurried away from his wealth, any ‘gold digger’ allegations towards you would be written off as delusional.

It’s not that you hated being financially comfortable, it was bliss not having to worry about if you had enough money to order out without making a noticeable dent in your funds (curse these overly expensive yet delicious restaurants). Reo treated you so sweetly it would make lovers of legend start arguments of repeated ‘why can’t you be more like that?!, yet for some reason he would always notice you shying away from him.

He believes ‘shying away’ is the correct term because no matter how far you move from him, he’ll always see heart eyes in your gaze when you look at him. It’s that loving stare that assures him that you still love him but something is keeping you from getting intimately close.

“Come on, sweetheart..” Reo coaxed sweetly after he noticed you started folding away some of the dresses he suggested for you to wear, holding your hands and pulling you closer to him and away from the beautiful fabrics.

“I cleared up my schedule for today, we can go to a fancy dinner? Or maybe dancing?” He emphasized by starting to sway you two slowly, his hands crawling onto your waist as you let out a small laugh at his antics and settled your hands on his shoulders as if to humor him.

“And what about that interview you scheduled with that sports magazine?” You questioned and Reo only shrugged as his hands slid to more restricted territory, he only showed you a smug grin “Dunno, guess they don’t wanna interview me anymore.”

“… They don’t?”

“Nope.”

“They passed up a chance with THE Reo Mikage?”

“I love it when you refer to me like that, Is that how you talk about me to your friends?” He teased and leaned forward for a kiss only to be stopped by a hand to his lips, you had a noticeable warm hue on your face now.

“How about we clean up before you try to do anything?” You suggested referring to the countless dresses laid out on your bed.

There it is again! Reo doesn’t know if it’s because he intimidates you sexually or if this was some tactic that made him want you more (which may or may not be working), but he is hellbent on getting some loving today.

Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a dress with his signature color and an idea sprung.

“Honey, would you mind trying one last dress for me?”

“Reo—“

“Just this one! Then I’ll go back to business, okay?”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The first time Reo bought you a few dresses, you vowed to never let this man dress you as his choices were either too erotic or too extravagant. Now you had a new reason to renew that vow;

He was an insatiable pervert who loved to dress you like his little toy doll and you were just as much of an insatiable pervert that lets him proceed with these ministrations.

“Look, baby, look at how pretty you look..” Reo moved a few strands of hair from your face so your vision wasn’t obscured from the reflection you’re witnessing on the mirror on the opposite side of the room.

Reo had you on his lap with your back facing him as your dress was pushed all the way over your waist, legs separated by his knees as he painstakingly fucked his cock into you, trying to savor every squeeze and noise you would produce.

“Y’know.. out of everything I wanna see you in.. I think you look best on my dick~” He crudely whispered into your ear and grunted, bucking his hips upwards to shove his cock deeper. This position may have not been the most practical but he didn’t care- as long as he could watch his dick disappear into your cunt he was the happiest man alive.

You couldn’t formulate proper sentences as he filled you, his pace didn’t need to be fast for him to leave you speechless; as long as he was balls deep you would be slurring your words begging him to use you for his own pleasure.

“What’s that? Say that again, sweetie?” He cooed almost mockingly, leaning closer to hear your ‘commands’, although most of it was moaning and gasping.

“Please..! Ah- Reo! I wa.. want- hnnn..! Want you ta use me- Aah!” Reo bit down on his bottom lip and resisted the urge to cum inside you right then and there, one of the rare times you would ever ask for anything was during sex and who was he to deny your requests when you looked absolutely ravishing?

Begrudgingly, he pulled out and stopped himself from fucking you in that same position after hearing that adorable whine of yours. If he was going to use you he’d need a better way to fuck you deeper hence why he moved you so you were now laying on your back with your knees pushed up to your chest, your lovely boyfriend loomed over you with an excited grin.

“This dress looks so good on you baby, I don’t think you can wear it outside the house though..” Reo muttered as he leaned down towards you, repositioning himself and pushing back in where he knew his cock belonged, before you could ask he kissed you deeply as an unspoken (and debauched with the way he used his tongue) way to say ‘I love you’.

“‘Cause everytime I see you- ugh.. wearing this dress.. fuck!.. I’ll remember this..” he took a moment to breathe, picking up his pace as his dick kept getting sucked back into your pussy, he let out a happy almost drunken laugh “I’ll remember how this dress got me sooo.. hard for you.. how I… mmmh-fucked you while you wore it..”

He always got so vulgar whenever you two got this intimate, and as much as you’d deny it he knows you love it given he can feel your pussy tighten whenever he speaks like this. You could barely focus on what he’s talking about as your brain felt overloaded with the sensations around you, the sweat on your body and his, the crumpled sheets, the head of his cock hitting that sweet spot just right.

It was only when Reo was face to face with you that you could focus on him, his violet hair curtaining you both as he kissed you so sweetly in contrast to how quickly and roughly his hips fucked you.

“Can I come inside you, love? Please?”

And even as he was ruining you and any plans you had for walking for the next few days, he still had the princeliness to ask permission as if you hadn’t allowed him to do more perverse things to you in the past, you nodded rapidly and the smile that tore through his features was criminally endearing.

The rapid coiling in your abdomen had long been close to snapping as your lover intertwined his fingers through yours, cock throbbing in excitement to fill you and feel you. Feeling you squeeze him tighter and convulse around him as he watched your expression turn from realization, to pleasure, to overstimulation was absolutely addicting.

He hadn’t even noticed that his hips hadn’t slowed down their onslaught, desperately chasing his own end as it finally washed over him, he let out a loud grunt and a choked ‘I love you’ as he felt his cum fill you, he kept his dick in place using himself as a makeshift plug and ignored your complaints of being sweaty.

wrapping his arms around you he rolled over so you were draped on top of him, he nuzzled your hair and laid a kiss as you groaned feeling the aftermath of his rough treatment settle between your thighs.

"you're so beautiful, love... I love you, my little dress-up doll~"

“Reo, I love you too but seriously..!! I need to shower..!”

“What? Round 2 already? You’re such a perverted woman!”

#reo mikage #mikage reo #reo mikage x you #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x you #mikage reo x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x female reader #bllk x female reader

[klausysworld]

Not sure if you have written anything like this, but could you do something where Klaus is into reader and she doesn’t give him the time of day, he try’s to win her over by giving readers expensive gifts but she’s not impressed. Klaus overhears reader and a friend talking and she saids how she’s a simple woman, good food, good beer, good music is all she needs.

A narcissistic white man with anger issues?

(third person)

Klaus had been trying his very best to impress this girl. He had gone to all sorts of lengths. Thousands spent of jewellery: necklaces, bracelets, rings, earnings, anklets, hair accessories, anything. He bought clothes of the finest material: dresses, jumpers, jeans, skirts, tops, sweats, anything he could find. He would ask for her to go out with him: “we could go to dinner? I know this lovely restaurant up town” but she would deny his advances. “come ok now love, my family are throwing a gala, i’ll provide everything for you to wear, just show up” but once again she did not. “an art exhibit?” no. “wine tasting?” nope. “i could take you to Paris?” nah. “Italy is nice this time of year” i’m alright.

Let’s say he was getting frustrated. He could hand her the keys to house made of solid gold and she wouldn’t care.

He became a little obsessive, new things at her door everyday, he’d stand by watching for her reaction, the shrug she gave as you looked over his gift before rolling her eyes and inevitably dropping it back off at his house with a note saying “stop trying so hard” which to him meant that he wasn’t trying hard enough.

The one thing she did keep were the sweatpants and a jumper. He found it odd, she also kept some of the chocolates but not all of them, it was like the more money he spent the less she wanted him, and he was getting upset.

People loved money, he’d watched wars start over it and people die because of it, what was her deal?

So he followed her a little bit, for research purposes of course. And he managed to hear a very useful conversation

———————————————————————

(first person)

I was out with my friends down in the streets of New Orleans, we were making our way through the stalls while drinking our pints. There was some sort of festival going on so it was pretty crowded, we decided to go for it and dress up like hippies and raid the different free samples they were giving out at the stalls.

A few hours in we were sat in camping chairs in the middle of the street listening to the bands play their music, just past tipsy and passing round a blunt between the four of us

“this was fun, we haven’t gone out in a while” my best friend, just the one i was naturally closest to said quietly while looking at me, i nodded with a smile

“yep it’s been some time” i laughed leaning back in my chair

“surprised you still enjoy these simple outings, your pretty boyfriend still buying you a million jewels?“ we both giggled at that and i sipped my drink

“oh yea, he has not stopped, i get something everyday and everyday i bring it back”

“damn i wish someone would spend that kinda shit on me” she laughed

“he’s sweet but he’s also a little bit of a narcissist” i told her and she rolled her eyes

“what so he’s in love with himself? who cares he’s got cash”

“oh my gosh you’re right i should just marry him right now” i gasped dramatically

“yea yea i know you don’t want a super fancy life with a mansion and pool”

“i wouldn’t mind a pool”

“you’re funny” she mumbled sarcastic and i mimicked her

“leave me be” i muttered slapping her hand away when she went to take my drink from my hand

“i just don’t get it, the guy won’t take a hint?” she asked

“a hint? i’ve straight up told him to shove it” i laughed

“is he stupid?” she asked while giggling loudly, okay so maybe we drank a little more than i thought

“he’s a privileged white man with anger issues” we were absolutely pissing ourselves over nothing

“okay okay, so would you like ever go out with him?” she asked once calmed down

“i dunno, he’s alright”

“he’s hot” she responded

“he is, he’s also kinda funny sometimes”

“he had a good accent” she muttered nodding her head making me nod too

“he seems to genuinely like me” i pointed out

“that’s true, he’s quite nice actually, he hasn’t done or said anything offensive that i know of”

“no i don’t think so” i muttered while trying to think

“has he ever commented on money situations?” she asked

“mmm no… i don’t think so? he knows he has money, very self aware of that but i know that they give money to charity through their galas and stuff, last time they literally raised like millions and gave it to kids with diseases, like he’s good, you know?”

“mm i say try it, like he’s gotta good heart, right intentions and i’m sure if you go out with him once and then tell him you don’t want to he should quit”

“i don’t want to have to sit in a restaurant filled with snobs that turn their noses up because the flavour is just a tiny bit off, i think you need an extra sprinkle of seasoning no? Like no, literally just put some salt on it”

“i like salt” she murmured

“me too” i nodded

———————————————————————

(third person)

klaus was stood blankly listening to her conversation, he was a narcissistic white man with anger issues, a hot accent and he was funny…sometimes.

He thought it over a little before returning home, his siblings all eyed him suspiciously as he walked with purpose and a determined expression

“oh dear we’re all going to die” Kol muttered while hugging his knees, Rebekah slapped him up the side of the head

“shut up, you’ll give him ideas” she whispered

“both of you remain quiet, he hasn’t headed for the daggers…he’s in his art room” Elijah stated as he listened closely

“so he’s feeling artistic stop worrying” Freya mumbled with a wave of her hand in dismissal

“this is about the girl” Elijah smiled slightly to himself

“the one that told him to piss off?” Kol asked and Rebekah hit him again

“shut-up he can literally hear you” she growled

“oh come on he’s been chasing her for bloody months, i know he likes a chase but it’s getting pathetic” Kol whispered harshly back at her

“he loves her” Freya spoke into his book

“he might just” Elijah murmured

———————————————————————

(first person)

i woke up early afternoon, i made my way downstairs still wrapped in my duvet and opened my front door and yet for the first time in ages there was no present, i frowned slightly, not because i wanted another priceless gift but because it was odd that he hadn’t left me something, was something wrong? was he hurt? Quickly i pulled my phone out and rang his number

“love? is everything okay?” oh thank fuck he was alive

“yes, sorry i’m fine…are you okay?” i asked while closing the door and rubbing my temples

“i’m quite alright, i was actually going to ask if i could see you today… or another day if you’re busy”

“sure come on down, its already like 2pm so i have no plans” i could hear tapping on the other side, probably his fingers on his desk, he does it sometimes when he’s nervous.

“okay…i’ll get there in half an hour?”

“see you then”

Klaus arrived exactly 30 minutes later with a singular red rose and a nervous look in his eye

“please don’t give it back” he whispered and i smiled taking it from his hand

“i’ll keep it” i promised and he smiled back at me

“would you like to come inside?” i asked opening the door wide enough

That afternoon/into evening we spoke about various topics, our families, our pasts, our hopes for the future, ideas, dreams, aspirations. He showed me his art and i asked why i never received this as a present instead, he said he though that id judge him and i told him that he was being silly.

We planned to go out for coffee/tea instead of a top class Italian restaurant, and from there we spent much more time together.

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus michaelson #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus imagines #klaus m #klaus mikaelson x y/n #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #rebekah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #hope mikaelson #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson headcanon #tvd universe #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvd imagine #tvdu x reader #tvdu fluff #tvdu fanfiction #tvdu imagines

[arliedraws]

Good Godfather Sirius Black Fest 2024

Day 6 Prompt: "Dating Advice"

Summary: Sirius gets home from a terrible date and reflects on it with ten-year-old Harry who has recently moved in with him. When Sirius makes an offhand comment about parenthood, it prompts both of them to reconsider their own self-talk. (Tonks is in it for about five minutes,fyi)

Pure godfather&godson bonding/family fluff. Sequel(ish) to “The Neighbor.”

@goodgodfathersiriusblack

AO3

----

“You’re back!”

The green-haired teenager sprang from the sofa, blinking sleep furiously from her eyes. Pins on her leather jacket clinked together as she skidded into the kitchen. With an oof, she slid too far in ripped black nylons, and Sirius caught her elbow before she rammed into the cabinet.

“Well?” she said, unfazed by her own clumsiness.

Sirius pulled a face at her.

“I told you not to date women,” she said, grinning.

“Last week you told me not to date men.”

“Yeah, I stand by that too.”

Sirius fished in his pocket for the bag of coins. The bag was considerably lighter than it’d been a few hours earlier before he’d exchanged wizarding gold for quid—a few hours of his life and cash he’d never get back. He withdrew a few Galleons and dropped them into her outstretched hand.

“Don’t you want me to find love?” he said.

Tonks looked sharply at him. “Love?” she said as if the word were new. The taste of it seemed to disgust her.“You’re looking for love?”

“I—” Sirius paused. “Er—aren’t I?”

“Are you?”

Sirius stared at her.

Was it love he wanted? Or was it lovemaking? He thought about the woman who had stolen several precious hours of his life—she was a complete imbecile but she wore tight jeans and a very low-cut top. Maybe it was just a rough go of it against a brick wall behind a pub that he wanted.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “Have you ever been in love?”

“No,” she said, snorting. “Why would I do that? Have you?”

“In a way,” said Sirius. Then he frowned at her. “You do believe in love, don’t you?”

“Oh,” Tonks said. She nodded. “Yeah, ’course I do. I love my parents and friends, but I’ve never been in love. That sort of romantic stuff seems a bit…I dunno. Expensive.”

Sirius laughed despite himself and tossed the whole coin purse at her. Tonks, surprised, caught it.

“Harry’s alive, right?” said Sirius.

“Yeah,” said Tonks. She looked nervously at the coin purse as if she thought it might be a trick. “Sleeping, I expect. What’s this for?”

“Bit of a bonus. Did he eat?”

“Yeah. I’m a poor cook, though. Nearly burnt down the kitchen.”

“Ah, so that’s why it smells like charred corpse.”

“Of course you’d say that. You sound like Mad-Eye Moody.”

Sirius shoved aside memories of burned bodies as he inspected the huge black mark on the wall near the stove. Part of the drywall had crumbled onto the floor. Tonks blushed and pulled out her wand.

“Reparo!” she said. “Sorry. Forgot to do that before you got back.”

“What did you two eat, then? Charcoal?”

“Harry made us sandwiches.”

“You can’t make a sandwich?”

Tonks had moved towards the door and starting lacing up a chunky black boot, hooking each lace carefully before tying it off. “Didn’t want to risk it. Besides, Harry’s pretty good at the food thing, and I thought, well, if he wants to eat something halfway decent, let him do it. Anyway,” she said, pulling on the other boot, “we talked about going to the Puddlemere United match next weekend if you’ll let us. I’ve got an extra ticket for him if you’re all right with that.”

Sirius opened his mouth to say that he didn’t know if it was a good idea. Thinking better of it, he turned away and pretended to look at the calendar on the wall, knowing that he ought to say yes. What could happen at a Quidditch match in the middle of the day? Unfortunately, he could come up with myriad tragedies in his imagination, all of them ending with Harry’s funeral. But Tonks is an Auror trainee—she’s not stupid! Still, it churned his stomach to think about letting Tonks bring him to somewhere so crowded and so public…

“We’ll see,” he said finally.

“Well,” he heard her say, “send an owl by Thursday. I’m off.”

Sirius said farewell, and she left. Faintly, there was the pop! of Apparition from just outside the door. Pointing his wand over his shoulder, he hit the lock with a charm and it slid into place. The wards he and Dumbledore built around the house rendered a physical lock unnecessary, but locking a door never hurt.

The round clock that the former owner of the house had left behind was ticking slower than Sirius thought it should, but perhaps it was because he had simply grown used to hours that felt too long. The evening that he finally gave up on might have really lasted several days instead of three hours.

For the dozenth time, he wondered what possessed him to say yes to her. Sirius and Harry had been waiting in line at the cinema when the woman and her friend tapped him on the shoulder. Distracted by the way a long lock of her hair rested on her breast, Sirius accidentally said yes to her invitation to dinner much to his and Harry’s horror. For days, he agonized over the idea, but it was Harry who suggested he keep his word. After all, Harry had said, it might be rude to stand her up.

She was a Muggle woman whose name kept slipping out of his mind throughout their date. She was very dull. Loud, but very dull. All she wanted to talk about was how impressed she was that he was parenting his godson all on his own and how brave it was for him to take on such a burden. It might not have been so annoying if she had let him talk about Harry and explain that it wasn’t very hard to look after such a good kid, but she had no interest in that bit. In fact, she rolled her eyes and told him he ought to see how unique it was that a man could be so sensitive and so thoughtful.

Sirius went up staircase after several minutes of self-pity alone in the kitchen. The light was on in Harry’s room when he reached the top stair, so he knocked gently and poked his head in.

Harry was asleep. His glasses hung from his nose, a book about broomsticks was open on his lap, and he was propped up against several pillows, his head lolling over his chest. He was snoring. Sirius grinned and tiptoed inside. Gently, he reached for the precariously hanging spectacles when Harry’s eyes flew open.

“Sorry!” Harry blurted.

Sirius swallowed that familiar lump of fury at the Dursleys. Harry hated when Sirius told him he didn’t have to apologize, though Harry would never say so outright, so Sirius held back from saying that Harry had nothing to be sorry about.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” Sirius whispered. “Just taking off your glasses.”

Harry shoved them back over his nose. “When did you get back? Is Tonks still here?”

“Just now, and no, she left. Heard about the fire.”

“I didn’t know you could start a fire like that with just water.”

“It’s hard, but Tonks is a wonder,” said Sirius. “You can sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow morning.”

“How was your…date?”

The slur of sleep was quickly leaving Harry’s voice, and Sirius sighed inwardly. How good a parent could he be if he woke up his kid at midnight? But he couldn’t resist indulging Harry’s smirk.

Sirius flopped on his back onto the bed, groaning.

“Last week, you said you never wanted to go on another date. Why’d you tell her yes, then?”

“Cheeky boy,” said Sirius, popping his head up to glare at him. “You’re the one who said it would be rude not to show up.”

“Yeah,” admitted Harry. “But you shouldn’t’ve said yes in the first place. Why did you?”

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut and dropped his head, letting it bounce against the mattress. “Oh, Harry. Because I’m a bloody idiot. And she took me by surprise.”

“What d’you mean?”

“Well, you saw her. She had this sort of shape—” Sirius mimed with his hands “—and it seemed like a good idea for a second.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

Sirius waved his hand dismissively. “Everything…nothing… Hard to explain. Look, Harry, never go for someone just because they look like this—” again, he mimed his date’s ample figure “—or because they’ve got an appendage like this—” he spread his hands wide. “It might seem like you’ve won the jackpot, but it’ll cost you a dozen galleons, several hours of your life you’ll never get back, and a wicked headache.”

“I don’t think I’m very interested in all that,” said Harry. “Er—dating.”

“Good. Save your gold. We’ll be bachelors together, old chum.” Sirius patted Harry’s leg. He lurched forward until he had propped himself on his elbows, eyeing the bedroom that was half-lit by the solitary lamp on the bedside table. “Think we should get a few decorations in here, Harry. Bit sparse, don’t you think?”

“So wait, what happened?” said Harry. “Was it like last time?

“The one with that bloke from the department store? No, it was different. Worse.”

Sirius didn’t need to look at Harry to know the boy had probably reddened at the memory. Though Sirius hadn’t regaled anything inappropriate regarding his evening with the young man named Matthew, he knew Harry was still unused to the idea that two men could date each other. Admittedly, it was rather new to Sirius too. Before Azkaban, he had never considered the possibility he could meet another man at a restaurant, share wine and talk about romantic things… And frankly, it still wasn’t easy. There were plenty of questioning, disgusted looks shot at them that Sirius pretended not to notice. What did worry Sirius, however, was that the Muggles were battling a strange disease spread through sexual encounters, and it was slaughtering entire communities. In the end, Sirius’s date confessed that he was too nervous to take things further and wished Sirius good luck in the future. It had been difficult to explain to Harry.

Harry’s understanding of men like Sirius came from his aunt and uncle’s declarations that anyone who engaged in such depraved activities ought to be beaten by police and locked away for sexual deviancy. Patiently, Sirius had guided Harry through his conflicted thoughts.

“Your aunt and uncle also hate magic,” he had said. “But do you think magic is bad? Punishable?”

“Oh,” said Harry after a moment. “Right.”

So when Sirius blurted yes to the woman at the cinema, Harry was confused again. After the woman and her friend had gone, Sirius quickly explained that to him, it didn’t really matter to him a person’s gender.

“Then what was wrong with her?” Harry asked, rubbing his eyes before he set aside the book.

Sirius shrugged. “Didn’t do it for me. I wanted to talk about things she wasn’t particularly interested in.”

“Like what?”

“Er—well, reckon she got a bit tired of me talking about you.”

“What? You talked about me? Why would you do that?”

“It’s just what parents do,” said Sirius, dismissively. Then he heard it. His soul might have detached from his body, then, as his own words echoed back between his ears. He realized what had come out of his mouth, what it must have sounded like. His stomach clenched with guilt, and he looked very quickly at Harry. “Er—I—”

Harry tried to hide it but Sirius could see the sudden swell of emotion gleaming in those big, green eyes before they fixed upon the floor. Sirius sat upright, grimacing.

“I didn’t mean—Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

Harry frowned. “You didn’t?”

“I’m not your dad. I know that. I swear, I’m not trying to take his place. It just slipped out.”

“Oh,” said Harry.

Sirius’s heart thudded. Was that…disappointment he heard in his voice? Harry had curled his hands into fists over the coverlet, knuckles white as if he were trying his hardest to keep his face impassive.

“Harry?” said Sirius after a long silence. “Harry, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Harry…” Sirius started slowly, peering into the boy’s face. “Did you like that I called myself your parent?”

“No, I’m being stupid,” said Harry in disgust. Ashamed, he pulled the book back into his lap and pretended to read, though his eyes were staring at one spot on the page.

Sirius reached for Harry’s chin and tilted it up with a finger. Harry resisted looking at him, but after a tense moment, he dragged his gaze to Sirius miserably.

“You’re not my dad,” said Harry, more to himself than Sirius.

“I’m not trying to be, and I could never take James’ place.”

“Yeah, I know. Look, it’s fine. I’m not asking you to be him.”

“But can I tell you something?” said Sirius, lightly.

“Sirius, it’s fine—”

“—I liked calling myself your parent.”

Harry shook his head. “No, you’re just saying that.”

“I don’t just say anything, Harry. What I said slipped out because it’s what I feel. The first thing I set out to do when I was released from Azkaban was to find you. When Dumbledore told me I couldn’t take you away from your aunt and uncle, I moved in next door because I couldn’t stand the thought of not knowing you. Even if you couldn’t know who I was for your own protection, I chose to live in that awful neighborhood to be close to you.”

“I’m sorry you had to—”

“Don’t be sorry,” said Sirius, trying to quell his annoyance. “Harry, don’t you understand? When you were born, my entire life changed. I helped your parents with everything—I put you to sleep, I carried you around while you screamed, I changed your rancid little nappies. I saw you take your first steps and say your first words. I know I’m not your father, but you’ve got to believe me when I say that I think of you as my kid. Can you accept that?”

To his relief, Harry nodded.

“Good,” said Sirius. He squeezed his face, squishing the crimson cheeks. “And if you call yourself stupid again, I’ll put a tickling hex on you until you admit you’re the most brilliant person in the world.”

“But I’m not—”

Sirius reached into his pocket. “Where’d my wand go?”

“Okay!” Harry blurted. “Okay, I won’t call myself stupid!”

“Then say it!” said Sirius, pretending to search in his jacket. “Say you’re the most brilliant person in the world.”

“All right—I’m brilliant!”

“That’s not what I told you to say, Potter. I’m sure I left my wand here somewhere— Ah! Here it is!”

Harry groaned. “Fine—fine. I’m the most brilliant person.”

“What’s the incantation? Rictus—”

“I’m the most brilliant person in the world!” Harry cried, scrambling from the aim of the wand. “I’m the most brilliant person in the world!”

Sirius grinned and caught him by the leg, yanking him back as Harry laughed and tried to get away.

“Say it again, you clever little genius,” demanded Sirius.

“Sirius!”

“Say it!”

“No!”

“Say it!” Sirius jabbed him in the side, and Harry curled up, howling with laughter, wriggling desperately to get out of his grasp.

“I’m the most brilliant person in the world!”

“Again!”

“No!” Harry said. This time, he managed to escape and fell off the other side of the bed. Sirius looked over the edge at the boy sprawled on the floor and made a swipe to grab him again, but Harry artfully flung himself out of the way.

Sirius groaned and turned onto his back again. “Dismal effort. But I suppose that’ll have to do for now. Maybe I’ll make you do lines tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.” Sirius glanced at the clock and shot up. “Oh, Merlin’s balls, is that the time?” It was absurdly late, and here he was, calling himself a parent and chasing Harry around the room when they both should’ve been asleep. “Harry, you’ve got to get to bed!”

“Why?”

“Because it’s late! You can’t be running around all night like a Niffler.”

“A what?”

Sirius leapt from the bed and in a swift movement, scooped Harry by the legs, hauled him over his shoulder, and then dumped him on the bed. Before Harry could scuttle away, Sirius drew the coverlet up to his chin and pretended to sing, poorly, a very quick lullaby as Harry chuckled.

“Are you asleep now?” said Sirius when he’d finished.

“Oh yeah,” said Harry, rolling his eyes.

“See?” said Sirius, tucking the covers under Harry’s legs. “I might be a bad parent, but I can force you to go to sleep, can’t I?”

The joke, however, fell flat. To his surprise, the smile slipped from Harry’s face, and for a moment, it looked like Harry wanted to say something. His brows crumpled, and his mouth opened but nothing emerged.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t say that.”

“Say what?”

“That you’re a bad parent. You’re the—” But then Harry closed his mouth.

“It’s okay,” said Sirius, pressing a hand against Harry’s chest. He rubbed for a moment, nodding slowly, feeling a quickening pulse beneath his palm. “I understand.”

“No,” said Harry, firmly, as though frustrated with himself. “You’ve got to hear it—”

“It’s all right, Harry.”

Irritated, Harry threw up his hands and said, “No it’s not. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me! You shouldn’t—you shouldn’t make jokes like that. Don’t—don’t say things like you’re bad at the parent stuff.”

“Yeah, fine, all right.”

“Say it,” said Harry.

“Say what?”

“Say you’re good at parent stuff.”

“You can’t turn that back on me.”

“Yeah, I can.”

“Did you just roll your eyes at me, Potter?”

“Just say it, Sirius!”

“Fine!” said Sirius, sighing. “Fine—I’m—” it was actually bizarre to put into words, and he felt uneasy about it. He drew in a long, deep breath. “I’m good at parent stuff.” Feeling flushed in the face, he smiled humorlessly. “Satisfied?”

“No,” said Harry. “Maybe I’ll make you do lines tomorrow.”

“Oh, the horror.” Sirius pretended to faint backwards on the bed, still feeling the sour taste of Harry’s words in his mouth, wishing what Harry insisted about him was true. The bed shifted as Harry crawled out from his covers and flopped next to him.

“I think I’m done dating for a bit,” murmured Sirius, carding his fingers through Harry’s hair. “At least until you’re at school.”

“Why?”

“Too risky. Next time Tonks’ll burn down the house.”

Harry’s eyes closed. “Sirius…” he started quietly. “Can I give you some dating advice?”

Sirius grinned. “Yeah, what is it?”

“Pick someone uglier next time.”

#good godfather sirius black #good godfather sirius black fest 2024 #sirius and harry #sirius black #harry potter #my fic

[leejeongz]

evnne’s reaction when you pull another photocard that isn’t them? or when you have a different member in your phone case?

🫧 evnne reaction to you pulling another member’s photocard 🫧

pairing: boyf!evnne x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: jealousy

scenario: your boyfriend insisted on giving you a copy of his groups’ album and so he picked one up for you from the pile allocated for the members' family and friends. he handed it to you and watched you open it, only then realising that there was no guarantee that it would be his photocard in there.

𓆉 keita

“who is it?” keita asked, scurrying onto his knees to peep at the card that you were tilting away from him. he shuffled closer the more you tried to hide it, getting more and more excitable. “me?”

you giggled and stood from your cross legged position on the floor, “hanbin,” you turned the photocard quickly and flashed hanbin’s smiley face towards your boyfriend, almost taunting him.

keita looked up towards you, clearly slightly deflated but still up right on his knees. “don’t look so pleased!” he exclaimed, offended by your unhidable joy. “let me see,” he held out his arm and opened hand.

hesitantly, you placed the card into his hand, “don’t rip it or anything.”

“i won’t,” he inspected the card, “you wouldn’t be able to sell it if i did,” he tilted the card under the fluorescent light of the apartment, “or are you gonna keep it?” his eyes came to meet yours, searching for a truthful answer before you even opened your mouth.

you shrugged. “i dunno,” you took the card from his hands and slipped it back into the envelope, along with the other inclusions. “are you jealous?” you asked, wondering why he was being so off with you about it.

“of course not,” he stood, his hand coming to your upper arm, giving it a gentle squeeze, “it’s just a random piece of card,” he pointed at the envelope.

“yep,” you agreed, placing the envelope into the photo book before hovering your fingers over the CD and while attempting to take a long look at it just to avoid his eyes.

however, you very quickly failed when you felt his hand on your waist, hugging you from the side. “and i'm actually pretty relieved that you like all the members so much that you are happy with whoever you pulled,” he smiled to you, genuinely, hugging you closer, “just as long as you like me the most, of course.”

other members below the cut

𓆉 hanbin

“yunseo?!” he exclaimed, disgusted by your pull.

“he looks so cute, though,” bringing the card to your face, you took a closer look at the photocard. “isn’t he just adorable?” hanbin’s eyes widened, thinking you were going to kiss the card like a crazed fan.

“no!” hanbin retaliated, knowing you were just saying those things to get a rise out of him (and it was working). “mine were cuter,” he snatched the card from your hand.

“i doubt it,” you snatched it back.

“go and marry him then!” hanbin scoffed. as he tried to ignore you admiring the photocard, he pulled out his phone. “look,” he held it out to you, the screen displaying a trading instagram page, “they want that yunseo photocard, you can trade it, i’ll drop them a message right now.”

“no you won’t,” you snapped, a little too meanly for your own liking, even, “mr park hanbin, dance leader of evnne, who’s gonna believe you can’t get your hands on your own photocard?” you laughed.

in response, he slipped his phone back into his pocket, “true,” perhaps the first time you’ve won him in one of these petty fake arguments. “but what are you gonna do with it?” his eyes, dark and puppy like, were almost welling up at the thought of you keeping it.

“i’ll give it to my friend, she’s obsessed with him, and then i’ll buy one of yours, probably,” you shrugged, explaining what your plan was all along. “but they’re so expensive, hanbin, you really should consider not being so popular,” you scoffed at him again, making him smile proudly.

“i can’t help it, y/n, i’m pretty and talented and funny, the fans love me!”

𓆉 jeonghyeon

“oh,” jeonghyeon spies the unfamiliar looking card in the envelope that you’ve yet to look in.

“hey, i thought we were gonna look together?” you complain, the volume dropping as you saw his face. “what is it? is there any photocards in these ones? it’s okay, i mean, i only want one if it’s yours anyway.”

jeonghyeon pulled the card out with an exaggerated bottom lip quiver, revealing keita’s face.

“oh,” you repeat, “he looks so handsome though!” you admit, going to investigate the card in jeonghyeon’s hand further.

“he does,” jeonghyeon concedes, even though he’s so very jealous right now, he still can’t lie. “but you don’t want it, that’s what you said.”

“i did say that, didn’t i?” you bite the inside of your cheek, “maybe i could make an exception for this one very handsome man.” you tease, noting jeonghyeon’s widened eyes.

“no.”

“why not?” you pouted.

“what are you pouting for, i’m sure keita would love to be your boyfriend if you just asked him,” he rolled his eyes, quickly gathering that you were just teasing him. “but seriously, i’m going through that whole pile tomorrow and finding one with me in.” jeonghyeon placed the card back into the envelope and tossed it onto the table. “i know that you’re obsessed with me, just admit it,” he smiled innocently, “go on, admit it.” jeonghyeon’s arm tucked behind your neck, his hand suddenly on your shoulder making you burn up from shyness. “you only wanted MY photocard, so you must be.”

shuffling forward, away from the grasp of your boyfriend who was marking you blush incredibly hard, you grabbed the remote, “shall we watch some young royals, jeonghyeon?”

𓆉 seungeon

seungeon took one look at the photocard from over your shoulder and scoffed, “that’s not going in a top loader.”

you pulled the card close to your chest, “i thought you didn’t want to see who i got, and that you were going into the kitchen to grab a drink while i looked?”

“yeah, well, that was before i saw his face, okay?” seungeon made his way around the sofa to sit beside you and take the card from your hand. “i mean, it’s look at him, thinking he’s all cute.”

you leaned your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder to calm him, he clearly needed it. “that’s your team mate that you’re talking about, and he is cute, junghyun is the second cutest in the whole group, in fact.”

seungeon immediately looked to you, setting the card down on his lap as he did so, “who’s first? not jihoo, right?”

placing a kiss on his forehead, you answered, “no, silly.” seungeon radiated with happiness, you knew what you had to do, “it’s yunseo.”

offended, your head was shrugged off of seungeon’s shoulder before you could even laugh at your own joke, “no more freebies for you then,” with folded arms, he stood, the photocard dropping onto the sofa as he did so. “this time i am gonna get a drink and you can make your own.”

“seungeon, wait,” you chased after him as he stormed off “i was kidding, you’re the cutest! can i please get one of your pcs, ask around at work, i want one, pleaseee,” you begged as you followed your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“i’ll think about it.”

𓆉 yunseo

yunseo’s head fell naturally to your shoulder as you placed the rest of the album inserts onto the coffee table with the photocard, face down, in your hand.

“who’s it gonna be?” he wondered, his rhythmic way of speaking creating a drum roll as you flipped it. “ohhh, jeonghyeon,” yunseo pouted, looking up at you to see your response.

you didn’t give much reaction, you weren’t really too sure on how you should be feeling, but he didn’t really give you much time to process it anyway.

“you won’t be needing that, y/n,” yunseo took the card straight from your hand and chucked it back at the table with all the other inclusions, “so what do you think of the album?” he lifted his head but his eyes stayed on you expectedly.

“i love it!” you exclaimed, “your fans are gonna be super excited to see their pulls too.”

“huh?” yunseo pulled away from you even more, focus flicking between you and the jeonghyeon photocard, “you didn’t even see mine?”

“well, if jeonghyeon’s looks that good, i can only imagine how incredible yours are!” you reassured your boyfriend, who you never expected to get so jealous so easily.

he smiled in response, settling back into the crook onto your shoulder, tempted to kiss your neck, “i’ll find one for you, babe.”

𓆉 junghyun

frowning, you put the card face down on your lap. your fingers covered any writing on the back of the card, which junghyun tried to read, before he spoke up. “who is it?”

“seungeon,” you tried to smile at your boyfriend, who you expected to be extremely disappointed. normally, had junghyun not been there, you would have been over the moon to pull seungeon, but you didn’t want to upset junghyun. you showed him the photocard.

he smiled back, his hand coming to your hair and ruffling it, “it’s okay,” he laughed, “it’s just a card, i can get you another if you’re really that upset.” taking the card from your hand, he flicked it once and kissed his teeth, “it wouldn’t look that good in your phone case.” junghyun studied the pc, mimicking seungeon’s expression. “how did he even-” he puffed his cheeks more, making a kissy face before deflating them again, “did i do it?” he made the face again and held up a finger heart, opening his eyes briefly to see your reaction.

“don’t worry, obviously i love seungeon, but you’re way cuter ” you reassured your boyfriend with a nervous laugh, “and you’re right, only your photocard should be there.”

“wait,” junghyun placed the card down, picking up his hoodie instead, “let’s go out and take a picture to go there instead, baby.”

#evnne #evnne imagines #evnne reactions #keita #park hanbin #hanbin #lee jeonghyeon #yunseo #seungeon #mun junghyun

[secretgamergirl]

When Complete BS Becomes "Common Knowledge."

Someone told me they stopped paying attention to someone who reviews movies after one too many mean-spirited jokes about trans people, and it was one of those cases where the reviewer in question definitely had the vibe of someone who'd go around doing that, but I couldn't think of any real flagrant examples. Cut to me watching a movie the other day, remembering that oh yeah, I skipped that one guy's review of it because I wanted to go in blind, and sure enough, that review has this big long crappy 5 minute aside of an out of left field "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" routine. So that's a shame.

Now this particular guy rather famously Does Not Get Out Much. Pretty sure he hasn't really have any exposure to a single trans person, or to any real die hard transphobes, and most likely what happened here is he saw I dunno, an episode of South Park or a facebook post from some bigoted aunt, or some Tiktok video, something like that, and just blithely assimilated it into his world view.

But you know, the reality is... to the best of my knowledge no trans person has ever actually said this, or anything similar to this, and we sure as hell don't live in a world where anyone would have the back of someone who did? But you know, here we are.

Now I want to be clear, this isn't some kinda thing where trans people can't take a joke or anything. Literally while I was typing this, some cis guy just tossed this out, and this is a real tired old hokey one, but I cracked a smile, because oh yeah, the whole "programmer socks" bit really is a weirdly accurate stereotype.

And there's plenty of other trans jokes I'll laugh at. Ones directly at my expense. Some real dark ones even. You wanna go off on trans women all having the same like 10 names and them all sounding like we were born in the 1800s, go for it. Other stuff about how we all dress? Coping mechanisms? Low standards? Being too into pickles and sriracha? There's plenty.

But "DID YOU JUST ASSUME MY GENDER!?" and while we're at it, "I identify as..." don't even have the vague shape of something you're ever going to encounter in reality. Like if I didn't know the context of where these came from and hadn't had them posted a thousand times or so by people with swastikas for avatars and such, these probably would get a laugh from me the first time I heard them, because they sound like weird surrealist humor. Like, "don't you hate how every time you go to the laundromat, you have to play chess with the dragon before they let you in?"

But, again, I know the context. And the context is a bunch of fascists want people like me dead, and they're both too scared to pick up a gun to do it themselves and too incompetent to know who to point it at or where to find them. So they sit around with each other and go "hey, what sort of person does everyone hate? Let's all say trans people talk like them!" And because they haven't spoken to a single human being besides each other and the rich parents they're sponging off since getting banned from the Something Awful forums in the 90s/punk bar in the 80s/whatever, they settled on "rich white person calling the cops on somebody for walking down the street" and "didn't I first get into being a hatemonger because I was stupid enough to think that time I saw someone roleplaying he really thought he was a big scary dragon?" Which has honestly worked out weirdly well for them when you stop for half a second to appreciate just how absolutely ridiculous it is to ever imagine cops coming to the aid of trans people.

Like... here's a situation that actually plays out in reality. I have a bad tooth. Dentist says I need a root canal, and she doesn't do them. Refers me to another dentist like an hour and a half away. I walk in, write my Victorian sounding name on some paperwork, fill in all my various medications, wait a bit, hop into the big dentist's chair, so far so good. This dentist busts out the pick and the mirror about to have a look, and goes "hey, so I noticed on your medications you're taking a ton of something called divigel? What is that?" I say "oh, yeah, I'm trans, so I'm on supplemental estradiol." She almost drops the mirror, stares at me like she just realized I'm Venom and if she bent down to look at my teeth I was about to swallow her whole head. She stands bolt upright, says, "your teeth are fine, get out." I'm a bit confused, but I can read a room, so I say "well that's weird, but OK..." and start to leave. I get a "have a nice day SIR!" shouted at me. And then I go out, call the cab company to say my appointment ended early, and get told too bad, it's coming when it's scheduled, and someone snickers. See, at some point in having to take cabs to all my appointments, a driver worked out that this woman he'd been picking up from this address for the past year has a similar voice to and maybe vague family resemblance to who he'd been picking up from that same address the year prior, and after getting the courage to ask me, guess who's constantly having cabs show up late, or not at all, or on time with a driver staring angrily into the rear view mirror while blaring AM radio with someone shouting about all "the gays" needing to be rounded up so they can burn in hell. And I just need to suck it up and live with it. I'm sure as hell not going to pick a fight over it. I'm just gonna stand out in the cold (fortunately with nice warm knee-high socks) waiting for this cab for an hour because I sure as hell can't stay in this lobby.

But again, the whole weird myth here posits a world where trans people are all-powerful and control the government and stuff. And the basis for that is like... sometimes people refuse to pass ridiculous laws to stop trans people from doing things we only do in bigots' imaginations at great taxpayer expense, and SOMETIMES someone is responsible enough to double check what's up before they allocate the funds. Like... hell, you know what's exactly as completely divorced from reality and honestly the same people doing to same crap? That wild BS about "schools keeping litter boxes in classrooms because all this acceptance of trans people means we also have to accept kids who think they're cats!" Like... how the hell can anyone actually be stupid enough to believe that anyone else could be stupid enough to believe that they're actually stupid enough to believe such an OBVIOUSLY made-up narrative? Like... lawmakers bring that one up and try to get bills passed on it. Everyone else in the room is socially obligated not to laugh and ask whether they also want to pass legislation against Bat Boy and UFO abductions. This is Ralph Wiggum tier absurdity.

But like... what do you do about this sort of thing, really? As the person ultimately has to deal with the dentists who think I'll bite their heads off, ask to speak to their manager, and drop trou over a sandbox the state mandates they keep in the middle of the room, I'm... not in the room when this BS gets concocted, or discussed, or shared in Minions meme some film critic sees and imitates to try and be relatable and relevant. Can someone else start grabbing all these people by the lapels and shake them and shout questions about how they can be this stupid, maybe invite them back to reality for me?

#bigotry #transphobia #out of touch boomers #the one joke

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

Happy Holidaze: Electric Boogaloo║ ⒸⓄⓁⓁⒺⒸⓉⒾⓄⓃⓈ

| HAPPY HOLIDAZE: ELECTRIC BOOGALOO | part of the A Weight Off Your Shoulders collection ║ series masterlist ║ main masterlist ║ | PAIRING(s): Joel Miller x plus sized!fem!neighbor (Roxy)

| RATING: explicit material | 18+ | WORD COUNT: 7.2k | CONTENT: age gap (Joel mid 40s, neighbor late 20s), awkward conversations, angst, fluff, holiday hijinx, Tommy is a charming menace, feelings feelings feelings oh my god so many feelings

| SYNOPSIS: After a less than stellar first meeting with Sarah, you're left to wonder if you and Joel can work beyond the little bubble the two of you have been in.

✧this is the sixth installment of a oneshot collection✧ ✧◦◦║ Part 1 ║ Part 2 ║ Part 3 ║ Part 4 ║ Part 5 ║ ◦◦✧

“I cannot believe you didn’t tell me she was flying in early!” you hiss under your breath.

Joel’s hands are up and out in surrender. “Baby, I just picked her up this morning. I didn’t want you worryin’ about her gettin’ here a little early. I know how nervous you’ve been about meetin’ her.”

“Oh, yeah, screaming into the house about you wrecking my dress is such a great first impression, Joel! I’m sssoooo glad you spared my nerves and didn’t tell me she was here!”

You jump back from Joel like two wrong ends of a magnet when Sarah saunters into the kitchen. “It’s okay, guys. You don’t have to whisper. I know Santa isn’t real. Secret’s out,” she laughs.

“And you’re lucky for it, too. Know your bad ass would be gettin’ coal,” Joel shoots back with a smirk.

“I dunno, dad, ruining your friend’s dress kinda seems like naughty list behavior to me,” she lobs back.

You feel incredibly out of place in their easy back and forth. At least Joel had time to prepare for the idea of meeting your parents. You try to keep your irritation in check, but the less than stellar first impression you feel like you’ve made so far makes your stomach drop.

“I-It’s fine. I was.. Just joking about the dress. It’s fine,” you stammer.

“Oh, absolutely not. Clothes are expensive. It wouldn’t be very neighborly of him to not right his wrong,” she tuts. She is barely holding back a smarmy grin at Joel who just rolls his eyes and mutters under his breath.

The heat rises up your chest and spreads to your neck. In a panic you’d taken the route of “just the friendly neighbor next door” for an introduction, and you suppose it’s not that believable of a cover - especially where mysteriously ruined dresses are concerned. Joel’s phone rings, and he grumbles about having to take the call.

“Behave,” he warns with a jutted finger at Sarah, drawing out each syllable in a stern caution to not give you too much grief in his absence. She mimes a halo above her head, and he mutters “jesus fucking christ” under his breath on his way out. With one last apologetic look, he slips into the living room, leaving you and Sarah alone once more.

“Soooo, you’re home early, huh? What a… nice surprise!” you fumble.

She curls her lips inward, but the lift at the corners of her mouth is an unmistakable, tickled pink grin. “Yep, finished all my on campus finals, so I figured there’s no point hanging around when I could be home. Just have a paper to submit for an online class, but luckily dad’s got wifi,” she quips.

“Yeah, that’s– yeah, that makes sense,” you agree.

“So you and my dad have an open door policy, huh? I was wondering why he kept leaving the patio door unlocked all the time.”

“Uummm, open door? No. No, I uh… no,” you stammer.

She doesn’t press it further, but she doesn’t really have to when you’re being such a bumbling idiot about everything. Your stomach starts to churn when you catch her giving you a sly once over. She was probably going to tell Joel he was way out of your league in more ways than one the second you left.

With no point in delaying the inevitable, you make some awkward comment about “just wanted to stop by for a minute” and “it was nice to meet you” before shuffling out the door. You felt puny and inept, woefully out of place in Joel’s family life. You shoot him a text, some lie about having a work call to get on, and hope he doesn’t try to come over.

It’s a few minutes later when he sends you a reply.

Hey, sorry about that. Tommy acts like he can’t handle one fucking day being supervisor.

You weren’t there when I got off the phone. Sarah said you had to go quick. Everything okay?

You sigh and swallow back the warm lump in your throat.

 yeah just have a work call

sorry i couldnt say bye before i left

The bubbles pop up on your screen, and you hold your breath waiting for his response to come through.

You still upset with me? I didn’t think you’d come over during work hours. Thought I had more time to give you the heads up. Didn’t want you worrying about it.

Your breath comes a little shaky. You push all the overwhelming feelings down and type out your text.

no i was just caught off guard is all. wish i couldve made a better impression :(

He predictably replies with reassurances that you made a perfectly fine first introduction and how much Sarah has been enjoying giving him shit about you. You don’t push it and just respond okay.

Sure wish you could play hookey and come do some Christmas shopping with us today.

You lie and say you wish you could but are swamped with meetings the rest of the day. You don’t take the first full breath in hours until you hear Joel’s truck start up and leave. The buzzing static feeling in your lips starts to fade with more regulated breaths. This isn’t how you’d imagined things going. You’d been stewing in feelings and worries about how you might not fit so easily into Joel’s life once it broadened past just the two of you. You kept meaning to work up the nerve to talk to him about it, but you always felt silly at the last minute and pulled back.

Direct communication hadn’t exactly been a strength for either of you, and relying so much on a silent understanding of one another and the feelings involved wasn’t going to cut it anymore. You hadn’t even broached the topic of whether or not you wanted to start using terms like “girlfriend and boyfriend” or “partner” or whatever else. You aren’t even sure all of what he’s told Sarah about you and the nature of your relationship. The closest you’d gotten to putting a label on things was when you’d both rambled back and forth about being mine and yours when he ate you out in the parking lot after the dinner date.

You don’t text or call Joel for the rest of the day like you normally would because Joel hasn’t texted or called like he normally would. You understand of course he’s spending time with his child that lives out of state for a good chunk of the year and is probably focused on her, and you wouldn’t dream of begrudging her of that one-on-one time with him. Still, it stirred up more questions for you about how and where you fit into the scheme of things.

You weren’t used to sharing most of Joel’s time and attention, but neither was Sarah. He’d admitted before that he never really had a steady girlfriend pretty much ever, and you weren’t about to be the stereotypical younger girlfriend who showed up out of nowhere, pouting and demanding to be top priority. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt and make you a little jealous that Sarah would always be his number one priority, though. 

It’s just what parents are supposed to do, right? And a single dad, no less. They’d spent so much of their lives coexisting that you felt a bit like a splinter in the groove as you tried to shove your way into a space that you didn’t belong to, that was never meant for you to occupy.

Sarah was younger than you, but not by a whole lot. Although you were on the upswing since your bad breakup, you didn’t much feel like a professional working adult who was rapidly approaching their 30s. Sarah seemed to have her shit together, but that wasn’t much of a surprise considering she had someone like Joel in her corner to cheer her on and support her in any way she needed.

From what he had told you in passing or through stories shared, she had a good head on her shoulders, was gorgeous, and in her prime of life, ready to take on the world. She had taken a few gap years in between graduating high school before she opted to attend higher education. She wanted to take some time to consider what academic path she’d like to pursue before taking out a bunch of loans. Smart, smart girl.

You sigh and rub at the gripping headache at the base of your skull that’s starting to throb from all the overthinking. You don’t want to see Joel right now or even risk talking over the phone for fear that whatever over the top melodrama you were needlessly stewing in would bubble up and spill over. If Sarah wasn’t already telling him he could do way better than the likes of you, an emotional outburst would probably be enough to convince him that this entire thing was a fluke. You send Joel a partially truthful text saying that you’re heading to bed early because of a migraine and will talk to him later. By the time you crawl into bed, he still hasn’t responded.

You avoid Joel like the plague for the next couple of days. He’d called the morning after your migraine to check on you, and you chalked it up to a stressful end of the fourth quarter prep work for the looming Tax Day just a few months out. He believed you because why wouldn’t he? You’d never lied to him like this before, avoided him like this.

You tell yourself you’re just giving Joel and Sarah some much needed catching up time, just giving them room to breathe and settle back into their dynamic without having some awkward third wheel like you tagging along and imposing on a good thing.

But in reality, you were just scared. Old habits die hard. You can’t keep drowning in your own thoughts like this. It’s a crippling torment just looping the same anxieties over and over again in your mind. You need to put on a brave face and talk with Joel. If Sarah was there, you’d have to just suck up the embarrassing first meeting and move on.

It wasn’t doing anybody any good to avoid all of it. Even if you felt like you were leaving yourself wide open for hurt or rejection or disappointment, Joel deserved you at least trying. He deserved for you to get out of your comfort zone and give it a shot no matter how much your gut turned and pinched.

You make your way over and slide the patio glass door open. For some reason you’re almost surprised that it’s still unlocked for you, that Joel still wants you. Muffled music and voices from the TV float into the kitchen. Based on the exaggerated sound effects and hyperbolic commentary of what can only be some trashy reality TV show, you’re pretty confident it’s not Joel in the living room. You inhale a big pull of air and follow the sound.

“Hey,” you greet softly, a nervous wave to a sprawled out Sarah.

Her head snaps up from the pillow, phone in hand dropping to her chest when she sees you. “Oh, hey!”

She doesn’t seem cagey or reserved. The first of what you hope is an encouraging sign. “Is Jo–Is your dad home?” you correct yourself quickly.

Sarah props herself up on her elbows and grins. “Yeah, he’s upstairs. Said he was gonna take a shower in a little bit.” Right on cue, the sound of rushing water drifts through the walls and ceiling.

“Oh. Okay. I, um, I can just come back lat–”

“You can hang if you want?” she interrupts. There’s a more entreating slant in her tone and body language as she sits up fully. She mutes the TV and gestures to the empty end of the couch.

Fuck.

“Oh, thanks,” is the feeble reply you manage.

She perks up at your concession to stay. You must look like a rigid board as you sit down. Your entire body is tense, and you can’t quite get it out of “fight, flight, or freeze mode.”

“I’m gonna grab a drink. You want anything?” she calls over her shoulder, already halfway to the kitchen. You really, really wish she meant something with enough ethanol to be dangerous next to an open flame, but you just tell her a bottle of water would be great. She returns in less than a minute with a can of soda for herself and a bottle of water for you. You immediately open it just to give your hands something to do other than shake.

You attempt a casual sip but feel more rigid than the Tin Man before he was baptized in WD-40 by Dorothy. A little bit of it dribbles down your chin, and you swipe it away before Sarah can watch you struggle to even drink like a normal human being. She finishes another big gulp of her soda and sets it off to the side, settling her gaze directly onto you again. Her legs are tucked underneath her, head propped up by her elbow on the back of the couch. Comfortable. Confident. Focused. You give an awkward smile and take another sip of water.

“Sssoooo, are you and my dad, like, a thing?”

You sputter into your drink but manage to finish your sip without coughing it up everywhere.

A sly grin curves her mouth like she had uncovered a not-so-secret secret.

“Yeah, that’s what I figured. He got all weird and giggly when I asked him about you.”

“You-You asked him? About us? I mean, about me?” The wry smile lobbed your way spoke loud and clear: girl, come the fuck on. “I, uh, I mean, how’d you- why’d you think to even ask him about us-about me?” Wow, great job on playing it cool.“Oh, you mean other than him smiling like an idiot at his phone but hides the screen before I can see who he’s texting? Or other than him practically slobbering over you taking your trash cans out yesterday, watching you from the window like a creep? Or–” “Okay, okay,” you giggle nervously. “I, uh … okay.” “So, how long have you been dating?” She didn’t seem upset at all. In fact, she was in classic “girls night gossip” sitting position. “Dating? Uummmmm,” you trail off. “Friends with benefits?” she volunteers with a soft grimace.

Your whole face screws up with frenzied denial and mortification that the conversation has taken such a hard left. “Look, I get it. This is sorta awkward. I’m not trying to jump your shit. I just.. I do want to make sure my dad is, I dunno… not setting himself up for a broken heart or something,” she admits. You want to tell her that Joel is definitely the better of your pairing and would be just fine if things had to split off between the two of you, but you hold your tongue and let her finish. “I mean, I’m not gonna lie and say I was thrilled when I confirmed you weren’t much older than I am. My dad is successful enough, with the family business and everything, and it wouldn’t be the first time a younger chick has tried to set herself up in a ‘comfortable living situation’, or whatever.” Sarah’s words stung a bit, but you appreciated her blunt honesty instead of just hating on you silently.

“How’d you—”

“I figured out you were younger on my own,” she interjects with the answer to your unfinished question. She was clearly proud of her sleuthing skills.

“Oh… so….”

“I cannot begin to explain to you the level of embarrassment of having all your dormmates hear your dad say ‘bricked up’ over speakerphone,” she winces.

“Oh no,” you giggle, pressing your hand against your mouth to stifle it.

“Yeah,” she gripes with a conspiratorial laugh. “Coming from the same man who warned me not to get ‘too crunk’ at frat parties? Dead giveaway he had somebody on the younger side giving him some crazy intel.”

You wrinkle your nose imagining how it would’ve been to hear your mom or dad say “crunk” OR “bricked up.” 

Sarah laughs pointedly in recognition. “Yeah! EXACTLY!”

“Sorry about that. Totally my fault,” you confess. “And I’m- I don’t care about his money or anything like that. I’m not looking for that.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t think it’s like that,” she assures you with a dismissive wave. “I mean, you sound pretty nice. I’ve been wanting to meet you, honestly. And, my dad is..” She peered up at the ceiling in search of the right combination of words. She smiles and looks back at you with soft eyes. “I knew something was up like a few weeks before the semester started when I was taking my little mini trip with my friends,” she explained. “He sounded, like, happy. Like, actually happy. Not just trying to sound happy so I wouldn’t feel bad about leaving him all by himself back home.”

You smile a little knowing that even then he’d been affected by you just as you’d been by him.

“And then he actually mentioned you one of the next times I called, said you were helping him with finance stuff because you’re an accountant, and that made me feel way better.”

“What do you mean? Made you feel better that I was helping him or that I was an accountant?” you ask.

“Oh, I guess it’s sorta both? But mostly that you were an accountant. That’s kinda, like – I dunno – it adds 10 years or something to your age, like, mentally to me. So I knew you weren’t just some regular 20 something that bounced from thing to thing.”

The way Sarah said “that just bounced from thing to thing” should’ve had the subtitles “that just bounced from sugar daddy dick to sugar daddy dick” emblazoned in the air.

“Hey, what’s wrong with being an accountant?” you rebut.

Sarah’s hand covers over her mouth with a choked cackle. “Fuck, that sounded SO rude. I swear to god I didn’t mean it like that! Ugh, oh my god, let me try that again.” She rubbed her hand across her forehead with some well-earned embarrassment. A small part of you is grateful to not be the only one fumbling with basic social etiquette and conversation.

“What I should have said was that you being an accountant meant you were smart and, like, had your shit together. And then you helping dad with saving money for his business and getting it organized better, it let me know I didn’t have to worry about you, like, taking advantage of him or something.”

Hm, that was better, but you’re still not thrilled with her first hot take.

“No, definitely not. He’s a good guy. He’s helped me out a lot, too, since I moved here.”

“Yeah, why did you move back here? He got super weird when I asked,” she says, leaning forward with interest.

Dammit. Well, you were already in this deep, and Joel was apparently still marinating his entire body in water like a fucking fish. Might as well just get it out.

“I caught my fiance cheating on me, so I called off the wedding and moved back home.”

Her browline notched upward. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” you agree with a humorless laugh. “Just packed everything up and left. Never looked back.”

Her lips jut up and out with a frown dipping on either side of her mouth. “And that’s when you met my dad.”

“And that’s when I met Joel,” you confirm. “And that’s also when I realized my ex cheating on me was actually a blessing in disguise. Because as much as it hurt and turned my entire world upside down, it’s the reason I came back home and met your dad in the first place. And meeting him has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You swallow past the lump in your throat and command yourself to not cry like an idiot in front of her.

She nods her head and wears an easy grin. “Yeah, I think he wouldn’t say no to sending the guy some flowers as a thank you for fumbling you so bad and sending you directly his way.”

A sharp exhale mixes with a laugh. You can picture it now. “Probably hand deliver them so he could beat his ass first, though,” you joke.

Sarah’s head tips back as she chortles in agreement. “Oh my god, yes. Totally.”

“What’s all the commotion in here?”

You both turn to see Joel ambling into the living room. You hadn’t even heard the water cut off. He glances between the two of you like he’s gauging the mood in the room, and his shoulders sag a little in relief when he picks up on the levity.

“She tellin’ you embarrassing stories about me?” he charges.

“All your stories are embarrassing, dad, because they’re about you,” she mocks.

“Not gonna think it’s funny when you gotta explain to your friends that you can’t go out because you’re grounded,” comes his fake threat.

“Oh please, I almost want to keep going just to see you try to enforce that,” she snorts. She pops up from the couch with her half drunk soda and passes Joel with a soft pat on his shoulder. “Besides, I’m pretty sure you value your alone time too much to keep me locked up here with you 24/7.” She saunters away and leaves Joel with his mouth dropped open in a stunned silence. Footsteps creak up the stairs. A soft click of a door. Joel finally turns to you all pink and flustered.

You suddenly remember what you came here for in the first place.

“Hey,” you breathe.

“Hey,” he parrots with a soft grin.

His body crowds yours in a flash, taking advantage of the aforementioned and suggestive “alone time.” His nose drags up the column of your throat, and you just breathe each other in for a moment. “Missed you,” he mumbles against your temple where he makes lazy passes with his lips. You clutch him tighter and bury your head into him. “Missed you, too.”

You draw back enough to make eye contact. “We need to talk — no, not like that,” you add in a hasty reassurance when his face flashes concern. “Just need to clarify a few things I’ve been putting off.”

You let Joel guide you onto the couch next to him. You decide it’s best to just be honest about everything, even if it’s not particularly flattering or easy to say. You tell him about how you don’t want to elbow your way into his family life. You tell him all the things that make you nervous, about how you were upset that you’d made an idiot of yourself in front of Sarah. You tell him all the things you and Sarah had just discussed not even 15 minutes ago. You feel like you’ve been stringing one word right into the next, all in one breath, by the time you finish spilling your guts to him.

You finally say your last piece and wait for whatever happens next. Joel snatches you against him into a hungry kiss, tongue licking and rolling against yours. You grab fistfuls of his t-shirt to hoist yourself closer. His eyes dance, wild and fierce, when he pauses for a moment.

“You belong here because you belong with me, and it really is that simple.”

You give him a nod of understanding when he raises an eyebrow.

“I wanna shout from the fuckin’ rooftops that you’re mine. I want to knock on every damn door in this entire neighborhood just to tell people that I managed to pull the most amazing, beautiful, smart woman on the planet. I wanna tell anybody who’ll listen that you’re my girl, and I’m the luckiest son of a bitch to walk this earth.”

“Show me,” you rasp.

His pupils blow wide at your invitation. He’s ushering you out the patio door with a manic call over his shoulder to Sarah that he’ll “be back in a minute”. You barely make it through your door before you’re tearing at each other’s clothes and stripping yourselves bare as you clamber to the bedroom. Your mouth is on him before he can take control of the situation, and he hisses when you swallow him down to the root. You work him until he’s stiff in your mouth, spearing into your throat. His breathing stutters when you drag his hands to the back of your head, urging him to fuck your throat.

He makes a few deep but slow passes to test your reflex, and then his cock is disappearing down your throat in a series of rough jerks. Spit bubbles and smears everywhere, but you couldn’t care less. You want him to make a mess of you. You want him to know that he’s free to use you like this, to take any part of you he wants however he wants. He pulls himself from the pitch of your throat and gasps. 

“Get on your hands and knees now,” he growls.

You whimper and position yourself how he ordered. You’ve not completely found your bearings when Joel is behind you and cupping your leaking wet slit. “Fuck–so goddamn wet,” he groans. “You gonna let me fuck you raw? Gonna get stretched out on my cock with nothing in between it and your needy little pussy?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and your body is already reacting to the idea of it. “Please, Joel. Please! I need you so bad.”

He eases himself into your core, pacing himself as he’s pulled in and swallowed up by your eager hole. You moan in unison when he finally bottoms out. He starts rocking into you in much the same way he took your throat: fast, heavy, and savage. He drapes himself over your back but never slows his hips. Your belly hangs and sways, making a loud slapping sound every time Joel pistons into you. A feral growl rips from his throat when he grabs two large handfuls of your belly and fucks harder.

“Fuckin’—love fuckin’ you so hard— goddamn — your fuckin’— belly slaps all over,” he grits out. “Make your entire–hhnnggg shit—entire ass shake when I—fuck you this hard.”

“Keep going, keep going,” you beg. The hot tendril licking up your spine draws tighter and hotter. Joel releases one hand from your belly and uses the flat of it to slap your clit. Your entire body locks up as you start to come. You collapse onto the bed just as Joel pulls out and presses a hand down into you while hot white ropes paint your ass and back. His ragged groans turn whiny as he empties himself all over you.

He flops beside you onto his back and catches his breath. “Wanted to–last longer–than that,” he pants.

You wheeze a laugh and sling an arm over his middle. Your eyes grow heavy, your heart light. The soft sweep of a wet cloth across your back rouses you. You exhale a dreamy sigh as Joel cleans you up and settles back into bed with you, dragging a blanket around the two of you. You snuggle up close, tucking your head under his chin, and feel nothing but peace and belonging.

“Got a lotta papers over there about pressure points, massage oils, and muscle groups. Looks pretty erotic to me,” he probes.

A lazy smile forms along the line of your mouth. “Hhhmmm, yeah, it can be, I guess. It’s mostly focused on tension release, but there’s a few parts about tantric massage,” you hum.

“Mmmm, sounds like somebody’s been busy.”

“Yeah, I’ve been taking some online classes for at home massage. It’s a Christmas present for my boyfriend.”

Joel chuckles and rubs his hands up and down your back. “Boyfriend, huh? You think he might get his gift a little early this year if he’s been real nice?”

You tilt your head back and smile. “I’m a pretty good girlfriend, so I think he’s got a decent chance.”

“You are a pretty good girlfriend, I gotta say,” he agrees with a twinkle in his eye.

Joel had taken you up on the early access to his Christmas gift no fewer than 4 times already. Your entire house smelled like lavender, and you have been doused in so much oil the past week you feel like an honorary slip n slide. Joel of course introduced his own techniques –  like pouring a bunch of oil all over your chest so he could titty fuck you – and made an absolute mess of you, himself, and any surface area in a 5 foot radius of your bed. It had been a blur of fucking and snuggling ever since your little breakthrough moment, and you swear Joel was just making up situations where he could refer to you as his girlfriend.

It felt lighter and freer again. Communication efforts on both your ends had been a bit bumpy at first, but you’d manage to speak candidly about Christmas plans without any hesitation or anxiety. You opted to let Joel have his brother over and spend Christmas with just him and Sarah. You felt more comfortable giving them that space, and Joel admitted he felt like he wouldn’t have to worry about the two of them harassing you about the relationship. It was good, but all of this labeling and talking was something new – too new to risk with a mouthy brother and an even mouthier daughter. He’d be so happy you understood he wanted you to share Christmas together without the interference and pressure from his heckling family.

So when you’re sitting cozied up watching holiday movies on Christmas morning, the doorbell takes you by surprise. You check your phone, but Joel hasn’t texted anything other than from earlier that morning. The doorbell rings again, accompanied by a loud knocking.

You spring up and rush to the door. You only ever considered it could be Joel on the other side, so your disheveled, pajama wearing self didn’t think much of your appearance until Sarah and a man who looked an awful lot like Joel stood waiting on your porch. You weren’t prepared for any sort of human interaction, at least not this early in the day, and you silently blink at your surprise guests.

“Hey. Uncle Tommy wanted to meet you, and my dad said he wasn’t going to invite you over because we were gonna harass you. So anyway, we snuck over here when he went to the bathroom just now,” Sarah chirps.

“Oh boy. Hi, Tommy. Nice to meet you.” You shoot him a shy smile and gesture for them both to come inside.

“Nice to meet you, sugar. Been dyin’ to see who has my big brother all worked up on site every day,” he drawls. He winks at you, and you almost laugh at how insanely charming he is. He gave Joel a run for his money.

“You should come over to the house and do Christmas with us,” Sarah pipes up.

“Oh, I’m not sure Joel would—”

“Looks like you can see for yourself what the big guy’s got to say,” Tommy cuts in with a snicker. You follow his pointer finger until you see Joel stomping across your yard and up your porch.

“Goddammit, you morons!” he shouts through the door.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and open the door. “Sorry, invitation only,” you joke. He looks flustered and aggravated, glaring over your head at Tommy and Sarah. They pay him no mind and busy themselves inspecting the graham cracker gingerbread houses that were still sitting out. 

“Got us a real Picasso with this one,” he rags. He pokes at the tip of the toothpick nipple Joel had crafted you. He presses a finger into Joel’s house, and an entire section of it collapses. “Damn, got some poorly constructed shit over here, though. Just hope whoever slapped this thing together ain’t out in the real world buildin’ anything.”

Sarah erupts into thunderous laughter.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you both,” he growls.

“Hey.” A gentle hand over his chest draws his attention back to you. “It’s alright. I’m okay.”

His eyes search yours for any hint of discomfort or apprehension. You know he will only find warmth and amusement. Sarah announces that you’re joining them for Christmas back at the house, and Joel once again scours your expression, your words, your movements for anything other than an enthusiastic agreement. He doesn’t relax when you get dressed and walk back to his house together. He doesn’t relax when you settle into the couch next to him and watch Sarah open her gifts. He doesn’t even relax when you’re laughing along with all the little volleys of insults between the three of them.

He holds onto that worry - the anxiety that his daughter or his brother are going to put their foot in their mouths and say something that makes you feel like you don’t belong – up until Tommy misses the fourth marshmallow in a row being fired from Sarah’s marshmallow blaster. It’s then that you’re curled up into him, hand resting on his thigh, and give Tommy shit about missing so many times in a row.

“I can’t believe a horse had to be boiled down into a gelatin just to end up the marshmallow that some jackass can’t even catch when it’s launched directly at his mouth,” you quip.

Tommy and Sarah howl with laughter. You turn to look at Joel, proud of your heckling, and plant a big kiss onto his mouth. He chuckles against your lips and finally lets go, kissing you back tenderly.

“Okay, new rule. No making out on the couch,” Sarah carps.

“Shutup and open up the rest of your shit,” Joel gripes.

“Well unless your frenching partner brought me something, I already opened everything.”

You shrug and mutter “oopsie” in a feigned apology for the lack of gift.

“Wow, I can’t believe my stepmom didn’t get me anything for Christmas,” Sarah deadpans. You groan a laugh and shove your head into your hands. You can’t even pretend it’s not absolutely hilarious and cringeworthy. “Sarah, you are a fucking PAIN IN MY ASS,” Joel snips.

You, Sarah, and Tommy all share a good laugh over her comment and Joel’s subsequent reaction, and you feel like the entire rest of the day is spent being overwhelmed with joy and silliness. By the time Tommy heads out, you feel like this is the hundredth Christmas you’ve spent with Joel and his family. It’s all mirth and warmth and affinity.

Sarah is yawning and stretching as the day rolls on. “Okay, I’m gonna go nap for a little bit. Please no stuffing anybody’s stockings while I’m upstairs, alright?”

“Jesus fucking christ, Sarah,” Joel snaps.

She ignores him and sings out a loud reimagining of a Christmas classic that echoes down the hallway as she heads to her room.

“‘Tis the season to be cuffing, fa la la la la la lallaalalalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.” “What the fuck does that even mean? That don’t even make any sense, Sarah!” Joel’s exasperation was incredibly amusing.

“If you don’t know what cuffing means, just ask my stepmom,” Sarah calls down before shutting her door with a cackle.

Joel pinches the bridge of his nose, completely out of his depth trying to keep Sarah from making tongue in cheek remarks. “I know you’re sort of annoyed right now, but oh my god, Joel, I kinda adore her already,” you titter. “Last thing I need is you two teaming up against me,” he huffs and laughs, relaxing a little at your good-natured reception to Sarah’s teasing. Joel shifts his weight back and forth for a moment, staring at you like he wanted to ask something. “It means linking up, Joel. Like, being in a relationship,” you answer his unasked question. “Ohh, alright. Yeah, I was wondering. Weirdest fuckin’ slang nowdays. ‘Cuffing’?” he scoffs. “I’m just here to help interpret,” you giggle.

“Yeah, yeah, alright. You just keep your ass parked right there for a minute. I’m gonna go grab your present.”

You’d actually forgotten about a present from Joel. When he returns with a decent sized box, your curiosity runs wild. You unwrap it carefully when he tells you it’s breakable. The tissue paper parts, and you’re staring at a lawn gnome. Specifically, you’re staring at the exact garden gnome you’d seen in the airplane catalog during your weekend getaway. It was the banker passing for an accountant garden ornament that Joel had teased you about endlessly for wanting.

“What the hell?” you breathe.

“It’s the accountant gnome you wanted. From our trip? Remember?”

“Yeah, of course I remember, Joel. I– You actually remembered that? And got this for me?” You didn’t have crying over a garden gnome on your Christmas Day bingo card, but here we are.

“You never wanna to spend money on anything, and so I got it for you since you liked it so much,” he explains. He shrugs like it’s obvious and no big deal.

It wasn’t some grand gesture or crazy expensive gift in your hands, and yet it was probably the most meaningful and thoughtful gift you’d ever received. Joel, who listened to all your little comments. Joel, who took inventory of the things you said and the way you react. Joel, who sees you for who you are and celebrates every last detail from massive to miniscule.

Joel, the man you love.

“I’m in love with you,” you whisper.

His breath catches. His hand grips tighter around your arm and back. Time feels syrupy and slow as he stares at you with an incredulous expression that morphs into a slap happy smile. “I love you,” he whispers back. 

He watches your face, drinks in every little tick and lift and change, and breaks into an ear to ear grin. “I love you,” he says again.

“I love you, Joel,” you sniff. “I know it’s so soon, but I can’t help it.”

“I don’t care. I don’t care if it’s too soon or not because I wanna be with you. I love you. I’ve loved you for a while now,” he says in a hush.

You embrace and melt into each other’s mouths. It’s a captivating thing, thrumming with the frenetic energy of two people burnt up with the fire for one another. You only pull away when the gnome starts to press into your torsos from where it rests in your lap. Joel takes your hand and stands, pulling you up with him.

“I wanna show you somethin’.” He sounds shy, unsure maybe. He takes the gnome and hold it as you walk hand in hand up the stairs. He stops outside a closed door near the end of the hallway and guides you inside. It’s too dark with the door closed to make anything out. A light flickers on with the flip of a switch, and your eyes adjust to the layout of what looks to be a home office. It’s not heavily furnished, but all the necessities are there to signal it as a workspace.

“Baby, I was gonna wait to ask you, but I don’t think I can wait anymore,” he starts.

He walks you to the desk and sets the gnome on an empty space in the shelf above it. “I think it would look real good right here, lookin’ at it with the window behind it and all.” He laughs under his breath to himself. “But if you’d rather it be someplace else, I guess I could accept it bein’ in the front lawn.”

You shake your head. “I’m not following?”

The heavy look he pins you with makes your knees feel wobbly. “I want this to be your office, darlin’. I-I want for this to be your workspace. I cleared it out and got it set up a bit, but we can make it into whatever you want.”

“I still don’t—”

“I want you to move in with me,” he bids. “I want you to live with me. I want to–I wanna live together.”

Once it clicks, there’s no hesitation. “Yeah,” you agree.

“Yeah?” he repeats, voice notching up in excitement.

You shake your head yes and find your way back into each other’s arms.

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,” he asserts.

You find yourselves wound together in his bed – your bed? – unwilling to be apart now that you’ve so decidedly melded into a single, solitary unit. You’re drifting off for at least the sixth time when Joel pipes up again.

“Here, I got one for ya. Just made up a new slang term. 'Gonna have a quickie with my thickie.'” He wiggles his eyebrows and gropes at your ass, just to stick the landing of his peak cringe dad humor.

“What is wrong with you?” you snicker. “Your dad jokes are ten times worse since Sarah got back. It’s like her presence gave you a power-up or something.” “I’m not hearin’ a no?” he grinned against your neck.

“You're gonna have to do better than that if you want to get in my pants.”

“Alright, get ready for some holiday themed pick ups.” He clears his throat theatrically, and you are already trying not to break.

“Santa ain’t the only one who needs to unload his sack,” he purrs into your ear. “I’m calling the fucking cops,” you mutter, trying desperately to not let your amused hum turn into a laugh. “Your left leg is Thanksgiving, and your right leg is New Year’s Eve. Can I spend Christmas with you in between?” “Huh? Spend Chris– Oh my god. Longest and most confusing eating a pussy joke ever,” you groan. “Santa ain’t the only thing coming tonight?” “That doesn’t even work anymore, Joel. It’s not Christmas Eve.” You can’t help but let out a tiny tittering laugh. “Your name must be winter because you’ll be coming soon.” “Again, doesn’t work. Winter started, like, last week. And now you can never be mad at Sarah for her awful puns because I see exactly who she got that from.” You were in a full blown fit of giggles over his crude dad jokes that weren’t quite hitting the mark. Joel was laughing at himself, trying to stick the landing on at least one joke. “Wanna see my North Pole?” You both had to cover your faces to keep from laughing too loud.

“Okay, alright alright. Christmas ones ain’t doin’ it for ya. How about New Year’s?” he suggests.

“I swear to god, Joel, if you say something about watching your balls drop or something about getting stroked at midnight…”

His whole body shakes with laughter at being called out so accurately and quickly. “Alright, I’ll cut the stupid puns, but you hafta promise to be my midnight kiss.”

“Always,” you vow.

You don’t get a chance to decipher the fleeting look of something wishful across Joel’s face before he’s pulling you in for another kiss.

I cannot believe I actually managed to finish this two parter before the year was up. It is probably riddled with errors, but fuck it lmao. I hope you all enjoyed this next part of their story!

catch ya later, ♥Puddles♥

#fic: a weight off your shoulders #joel miller x plus size reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters

[mediocre-daydreams]

𝐭𝐰𝐨.    𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐞

remus lupin x animagus!reader

𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚢, 𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠

summary: you and the marauders find out about remus' condition. you tell remus you love him and he friendzones himself. despite remus' protests, the four of you plan on secretly becoming animagi.

notes: no warnings except a few swears and mention of werewolf attacks? use of y/n (i'm sorry i've given up it's so hard to write without using it), crackfic moments

w/c: 3.9k

･ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

and if it were an open-shut case, i never would've known from the look on your face; lost in your current like a priceless wine

“he’s been like this all week,” peter grumbled to sirius. the two boys were spread out on james’ bed (he was at quidditch practice and the two wanted to take advantage of his lush jaberknoll feather comforter).

“if you mean bloody irritating, then yeah, for sure.”

“talking about me, are you?” a squeak of the door hinges alerted the two gossipers of their fourth roommate’s presence. remus grinned. “irritating, am i?”

sirius pinched the bridge of his nose. he sat up so he could face remus. “yes, irritating! you’ve been snippy and i still have a damn bruise from when you punched me!”

“you took my chocolate! the expensive stuff too!”

“in my defense, it was-”

peter rolled his eyes. “but seriously, remus. you don’t talk to us at meals, you run off to the library every time we’re all free, and you weren’t even excited about tuesday’s prank! you love transfiguring things!”

remus sighed, sitting atop his own bed. “i suppose you’re right. i’ve just been… stressed, that’s all.”

sirius perked up and he looked at remus sneakily. “what is there to stress about, lupin? your grades are fine. unless it’s not about grades, but something else that starts with a g…”

remus furrowed his eyebrows. “gastrointestinal issues?”

peter slapped his forehead. “no, you bloody idiot! girls.”

remus frowned. “well, for your information, madam pomfrey gave me this potion that really helps with my stomachaches. so…”

sirius shook his hands, similarly to how a stereotypical italian chef would pinch their fingers together and shout mama mia! “don’t be daft, lupin. we’re talking about y/n. now that’s a gastrointestinal issue if i ever saw one.”

“sirius… what are you on about?” peter looked revolted.

“uh, i dunno. it sounded better in my head. does she give you butterflies, or what? that could be… a stomach problem, yeah?”

sirius was saved from further mocking about his unfortunate comparison by the door slamming open to reveal a damp-haired james. james, who was holding his glasses in one hand, ran up to sirius and peter and shook his head, spraying water all over them. he slipped on his glasses to get a better look at his annoyed friends and smiled proudly.

“someone’s got stomach problems?” james hopped onto his own bed with a bounce of the mattress. “y’alright, remus?”

“seriously, i’m fine.” remus shot sirius a warning look before the latter boy could make a pun about his name. “it’s nothing.”

“it’s not nothing! we’re talking about y/n!” peter interjected.

james was surprised. “y/n? what’s she got to do with remus’ stomach problems?” james thought for a moment. “merlin, did she poison you or something?”

sirius jumped to his feet, wobbling slightly from all the shifted weight on james’ mattress. “lupin has a crush on y/n, you wanker! girl! problems!”

james’ confusion immediately bloomed into a smug set of raised eyebrows. “well, well, well, if it isn’t our new resident casanova.”

sirius was slightly offended.

remus blushed, his knee beginning to bounce rapidly. peter laughed at remus’ obvious discomfort.

james’s eyebrows raised as he remembered remus’ reaction to you sitting in his lap; the way he’d blushed when you whispered in his ear and how he stammered in front of you at the library. he leaned in conspiratorially. “so, tell me all about your relationship with the lovely y/n…”

--

“damn it!” you hissed, scooping up your dropped books as quickly as possible. you weren’t doing anything wrong, per se, but your plan for afterward was bordering illegality and life-threatening.

well, you thought, i’m living in a castle of blood supremacists amidst a potential war, so isn’t everything illegal and life-threatening these days? that was pretty sturdy logic, right?

“mugwort!” you all but shouted at the fat lady, who scowled at you. “sorry,” you tacked on as an afterthought. 

you clutched the books tightly to your chest, wary of dropping them or having somebody see what exactly they were about. bounding up the stairs two at a time, you banged on the the gryffindor boys’ dorm with a demanding fist.

james opened the door to find you, chest still heaving, with a look of determination so strong and furious that he had to take a step back. “woah, what’s goin’ on? y’good?”

you nodded impatiently, pushing james aside so you could walk into the room. “sirius, peter, i need- oh! remus! i didn’t- ha, what are you doing here?” you laughed awkwardly.

remus looked at you oddly. “i- i live here?”

you wanted to slap yourself. “of course, yes! whoops, i forgot about that,” you chuckled breathlessly. “my bad! uh, do you think you could… leave? i have to talk to peter, sirius, and james about something important,” you cringed. “alone.”

remus’s lips parted slightly and you could see the sadness flooding his eyes, though he didn’t voice it. he took a deep breath and pursed his lips into an uncomfortable smile, before nodding wordlessly. swinging his satchel over his shoulder, he left without a goodbye.

“what in godric’s great grandmother was that about?” peter huffed, eyes still on the door that remus had just exited from.

“i say this with so much love, but shut the bloody hell up.” you slammed three books onto the dorm’s floor dramatically. waving at the remaining marauders, the four of you gathered around the pile in a loose circle. patting the thick hardcover at the top of the stack, you cleared your throat. “boys, this right here is the culmination of three and a half sleepless nights.”

“and a half? how can you have half a-”

you glared at james. “what did i say? anyway,” you flipped open the cover of the first book, which the boys recognized as the book that remus had helped you find on the top shelf. “it’s newt scamander’s focused encyclopedia on transformative magical creatures! he does fantastic work, by the way; you must take a look-”

sirius opened his mouth to interrupt but you slapped his knee. “sorry, i’m focused again. right, so i was nearly finished with the book—just before the due date too—when i got to the second to last creature in the W section. werewolves.” 

peter squinted at you. “i don’t mean to- sorry, why are you showing us this?”

you groaned. “are you all stupid? read the damn page!”

you waited as the three boys skimmed through the scarce pages that comprised the werewolf section. well, you tried to wait. “do you see what i mean? it’s a little odd, don’t y’think?”

the three marauders were completely puzzled. “oh my godric, doesn’t that sound like remus?”

sirius burst into laughter. “are you- are you suggesting that remus lupin is a werewolf? that man won’t even kill a spider! he folds his damn socks! you think he’s a werewolf?”

you cracked your knuckles anxiously. “i’m not joking! don’t you see? things line up—he gets sick at least once every month, and it’s always around the full moon-”

peter studied you suspiciously. “how do you know that about him?”

you faltered. “i- i just pay attention. a lot. to people, in general. it’s not that i pay extra attention to him or anything, that’d be so creepy. i’m just observant, s’all.”

james shrugged, satisfied with your answer. “okay, but there have never been werewolf sightings on campus. how would that even work? he obviously can’t become a werewolf in our room, but it’s not like he can sneak out to the forbidden forest every month and not get caught. plus, there’s never been any mangled animals or anything. there’s just no proof.”

sirius nodded. “and even if he was a werewolf, there’s just no way he could hide it for 5 years. not if dumbledore’s around! the only way any of this could even remotely be true is if dumbledore knew about it, which he definitely doesn’t.”

you wanted to tear your hair out at your friends’ blind loyalty. “look, i’m not saying being a werewolf is bad, but dumbledore must know and he must be helping remus! dumbledore’s always been… unconventional, and if he trusts remus, then we should trust him too. i’m just saying, this all feels a little too coincidental, that’s all.”

peter exhaled loudly. the three of you turned to him sharply. “what? i’m just breathing.” he looked around nervously. “okay, fine. i hate to say it, but i agree with y/n. we can’t be sure for certain unless we ask him, but she’s right. this could actually be something.”

“have you asked him?” sirius stared you down, stone-faced.

you gulped. “uh, no. no, i have not.” taking another look at sirius’ icy glare, you threw your hands up innocently. “i’m sorry! i just put everything together, and my book is due tonight, so i had to tell someone before i returned it to madam pince, and you lot are his best friends so i thought that-”

“it’s alright, y/n,” james reassured, placing a hand on your shoulder. the pressure was comforting. “we’ll figure it out together. what are the other books for?”

you brightened, more than happy to share your findings. “this one is an autobiography of one of greyback’s survivors, and this is Level Five: XXXXX Ministry Classified Beings.” you flipped through to different pages you’d flagged, passing them around.

“this looks… where’d you get this? it looks pretty official,” sirius wondered, flipping through the second book with reverence.

“um… the restricted section?” you squeaked.

“nice!” james raised a hand to high-five you. you’d never been more grateful to be friends with boys who found toeing the line of magical legality as underage wizards entertaining before.

“see, it says that when not in werewolf form, the person could take on any characteristics. so it would be perfectly possible for remus the human to fold his socks and for remus the werewolf to howl, and whatnot. plus, the wolfsbane potion allows the person to retain their human memories during transformation! so if we asked him, he’d be able to tell us.”

“but should we ask him? do you really want to?” peter grimaced, sucking air between his teeth. “isn’t this slightly invasive? i feel like we’re reading his diary, or something.”

sirius, who’d been adamantly against the mere notion of remus’ possible lycanthropy, was surprisingly silent. you studied him, trying to gauge his thought process.

“remus is our friend. he’s a marauder. if he is a werewolf—if—we’d support him, right?” sirius’ gaze flickered through each of his friends’ faces questioningly, lingering a little longer on yours.

you nodded. “lycanthropy is painful and isolating and if he truly is a werewolf, wouldn’t it be better to have people on his side? people who could help and take care of him?”

peter and james nodded affirmatively.

looking sirius straight in the eye, you concluded. “i swear to merlin, i would never betray remus’ secret. i lov- i love him as a friend and i didn’t do all this reading for nothing,” you gestured to the books. “but i have to know. i- i’m going to ask him.”

--

“rem?” you whispered. you’d snuck out of the girls dormitory after your roommates had fallen asleep to sit on one of the common room couches in hopes of catching remus returning from his prefect patrol. a creaking of the portrait alerted you to his presence. “rem!”

“lumos,” remus muttered, moving his wand through the air to investigative. “y/n?” 

“yeah, hey! it’s me.” you patted the cushion beside you. “c’mere, i need to talk to you.”

remus’ heart began pounding in his ears. how did you find out about his crush on you coincidentally timed interest in magical creatures? hesitantly, he lit a candle and sat stiffly beside you.

please, remus pleaded, can we just get this over with so i can avoid you forever and mope in peace?

“sorry for keeping you up so late. i wanted to see you as soon as possible and i wasn’t sure when the next time i’d be able to catch you alone would be.”

oh shit, remus cursed. here it is. the rejection. she’s letting me down easily by doing it in private. godric, she’s so kind. even when she’s friend-zoning me…

“it’s alright, love. go on.” why did i call her- argh, screw me.

you broke his gaze, cheeks heating at the sweet nickname. “uh- you remember that book i checked out last week, right? the transformative magical creatures?”

remus nodded. how could i forget? you were going to read about class 5 beasts—me—and i accidentally suffocated you with my jumper. unfortunately, it was very memorable.

“right… so i was reading it, of course, because books were meant to be read,” you giggled nervously, fiddling with your fingers.

remus’ eyes jumped to your hands. nerves were either a good sign or a really bad sign. knowing his luck, it was probably the latter.

 “there’s this section on werewolves—it’s very brief, despite scamander being an absolute genius; oh merlin, he’s just incredible—sorry! i checked out a couple more because of… personal interest. and- fuck, i’m so sorry. this is going to be so awkward,” you fussed. “ack, alright. i just noticed that there are a lot of similarities in… lycanthropic symptoms and- and you.”

you couldn’t meet remus’ eye. he couldn’t tell though, because he wasn’t looking at you either. the two of you stared at the ground. you noticed that remus was tapping his foot again.

remus choked, only bouncing his leg faster. your face scrunched in concern and in an attempt to reassure him, you placed a gentle hand on his knee as an encouragement to relax. when you made contact with him, however, remus practically jumped from his seat and scampered away from you, creeping backwards with his hands in the air.

“no- no, i’m not- why would you? where did you get that idea?” he breathed, eyes big and terrified.

“i’m sorry!” you wailed. “i’m sorry, i don’t want to invade your privacy. you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to. i just want you to know that… even if you had lycanthropy, i would still- it’s okay. i’m still here for you; i’ll always be.” you took a shuddering breath. “i love you lots, rem.”

remus bit his lower lip, tugging at the skin which had begun to peel there. what did he ever do to deserve such a loving friend like you?

“you- you don’t understand.” remus paced, tugging at the roots of his hair. “no, it’s not okay! i could fucking kill someone! you read those books, so you know just as well as i do that i’m a beast. i’m a class five monster.”

your eyes darted across remus’ face as his expression slowly sunk, realizing he’d inadvertently given himself away.

“fuck!” he hissed, collapsing into an armchair and burying his head in his hands. “fuck.” his voice came out watery and weak.

your heart cracked. “rem, can i- can i touch you?” you inched towards him cautiously, hand slightly extended. “please, i’m not going to hurt you.”

remus flinched away and you pulled back instantly. “i’m not scared that you’ll hurt me,” he murmured. “i’m scared that i’ll hurt you. you should be scared of me too.”

you pouted, crossing your arms. “remus lupin, damn you! damn you if you think i’d be scared of ya’, you ol’ softie. mr. gramps, who annotates his cookbooks and has a teddy bear. i’m sorry rem, but you couldn’t be scary if you tried.”

remus smiled nervously, peeking at you from behind his fingers. when he saw you staring him down relentlessly, he lowered his hands. “you have to promise not to tell anyone,” he whispered hoarsely.

you froze. “well, funny story…”

--

“absolutely not!” remus barked. then he winced at his own volume. “absolutely not.”

“but whyyy?” sirius whined, batting his eyelashes.

“don’t give me your damn puppy eyes, it’s not going to work,” remus huffed.

the four marauders were standing around remus’ bed, as if they were judges in a courtroom and remus was the defendant.

“because i said so!” remus rubbed his temples, wishing he’d paid more attention to madam pomfrey when she explained the spell she used to alleviate headaches.

“lupin, we’ve done dodgier things before. we’re making an illegal tracking map, for godric’s sake. that’s pretty damn illegal. this whole animagus thing is like a walk around the black lake,” james reasoned. he looked, in no way, disturbed by this conversation or the severity of the marauders’ plan. (well, the marauders minus remus.)

“i would rather give up chocolate than have the three of you gits get yourself killed.”

“really?” peter chirped. “i call the chocolate frogs then! i’ve got a good card collection going.”

sirius slapped peter’s arm.

james rolled his eyes. “alright, grumpy. someone’s been particularly moody of late. oh my godric—my astronomy homework!”

“what in the-”

“this is not the time-”

“the full moon is in five days! aww, is our little moony moody?” james teased, pinching remus’ cheek. remus did not find this very funny.

“moody moony! that’s a good one, james!” peter chortled.

sirius nodded slowly, an appreciative grin slowly growing on him. “moony. i like that. right, well here’s the deal, moony. we,” sirius waved at peter and james before pointing to himself, “are going to visit you in the hospital wing after every transformation—and i don’t want to hear any protests—and you are going to let us know how we can help you. we’re brothers; marauders. we’d rather die than leave you.”

peter steeled his resolve. “moony, i’d sooner die than betray you. your secret is safe with us.” he pressed his hand to his heart, and the other boys followed suit. remus turned his head to subtly wipe away tears that threatened to spill and turn into a full-on sob. though the other marauders noticed, they didn’t comment.

when remus turned back, he had a dark, intense look to him. “no matter what,” he muttered gravelly, “you do not let a single word of this slip to y/n. you tell her nothing about what we just discussed. it’s enough that she knows about… my condition. i don’t want her to get swept up in all your stupidity. she’s a smart girl—stubborn, though. i don’t want her doing something she’ll regret.”

sirius’ eyes jumped to peter, who seemed to understand. as usual, james was not on board. “but-”

“nothing. she’s to know nothing about this. i don’t want her coming to the hospital wing, knowing about the whomping willow, or the shack, or- or anything. do you hear me?” remus stood straight to his full height, which was greater than any of the other marauders. he appraised james with no trace of humor. “do you understand me?”

“yes, sir!” james smirked, saluting sarcastically.

remus sighed. it was just like his friends to turn a life-threatening affliction into another reckless display of comradery for the sake of this “marauders” title. he appreciated it, he really did. he just wished that the four of them could prove their loyalty to each other in a way which didn’t potentially end in remus murdering or mauling his brothers.

--

“y/n!” james yelled, waving his hands in the air to catch your attention over a sea of students rushing to their next classes.

“what?” you stood on your toes to catch sight of him. there, with his glasses crooked and arm around sirius, was james. “what is it? i have potions!”

from your distance, you could make out peter chastising james and sirius. james shook his head. you assumed peter had told him to shut up, or something along the lines of “save your theatrics for after the school day.”

“fine! meet us in… the library! don’t tell moony! i mean, remus!”

you shook your head, perpetually lost at their childish antics, and continued on with your classes as if nothing had happened.

the library was busier than usual. fifth, sixth, and seventh years were beginning to prepare for their exams and mock exams, which meant a scarcity of available seating and a crabbier-than-usual madam pince.

“over here!” sirius whispered loudly, beckoning you with huge arm movements.

throwing yourself onto sirius’ lap and knocking the air out of him, you stared at him pointedly. “what’s so important that you had to make me late to potions?”

james mumbled words under his breath, probably to mimic you. “you’re just as bad as mo- remus is.”

“oh yeah, and what’s up with ‘moony?’”

“uh… nickname!” james squeaked.

“really? and it has nothing to do with- wait,” you narrowed your eyes, scoping out potential ears. “it has nothing to do with his lycanthropy?” you whispered, so softly that you might as well have just mouthed it silently.

“alright, smartie. you caught us.” sirius mussed up your hair and you swatted his hands away. “so moony told us not to tell you this, so naturally, we’re telling you this. basically-”

james gasped. “wait, we’re telling her this? you never told me that!” peter punched himself in the head multiple times. “that’s the whole point of meeting here, james? godric, are you alright? i’m getting a little concerned at this point. ‘ave you been hit by a bludger? do y’have a concussion?”

james pursed his lips and looked at his lap, scorned.

sirius raised his eyebrows at you and mouthed “ignore him.” sirius hit his chest a couple times as if he was about to make an important announcement, but he kept his voice quiet as he spoke with his lips against your ear.

“the full moon’s in four days. the night before, remus goes up to the hospital wing and pomfrey takes him down to the whomping willow. there’s a secret passageway that leads to the shrieking shack—y’know, the one in hogsmeade. he stays there for the night and pomfrey brings him back in the morning.”

you frowned, swallowing thickly. “and he’s all alone? for the whole night, trapped in that dilapidating shack?”

peter tutted. “yup. however, we have a plan.” he waggled his eyebrows, and you knew you were going to be roped into the most outrageous plan you’d ever heard, regardless of whether you wanted to be involved or not. you didn’t need to hear what peter was going to say. if it was for remus—for moony—you’d do it in a heartbeat.

“animagi!” james exclaimed, wanting to be involved. he slapped a hand over his mouth, head whipping around to check if anyone had heard. sirius looked at him disdainfully.

“animagi? what do you mean, you want to ask animagi about their transformation rituals? mcgonagall’s an animagus, but i highly doubt it’s anything similar to a full moon transformation-”

“no, we’re becoming animagi,” peter stated factually.

your jaw dropped. “we? who’s we? you lot? or all of us, including me? ‘cos i dunno about you, but i don’t think the ministry’s going to take well to four underage wizards asking to become animagi for no apparent reason. they’re going to poke around; that is, if they even approve the process in the first place…”

james beamed. “and that’s why we’re not going to tell anyone about it!” your jaw dropped further. “you’re going to commit an azkaban-level crime?” the three marauders nodded confidently. you shook your head. “you’re all insane… i’m in.”

none of you noticed remus' figure pass by between bookshelves.

･ﾟ⋆☾*･ﾟ.・。.*゜✭・･ﾟ✫・⋆。.

taglist:

@yourallihave @cowboibeepbeep @im-a-slut-for-fluff @bambamwolf87 @emmaev

#wherever you stray i follow #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x reader fluff #remus lupin x reader angst #remus lupin x you fluff #remus lupin x you angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin angst #remus lupin series #marauders series

[book-place]

The story of us

"The poison of an oleander" The umbrella academy! :D

[Celebration]

OMG I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I GOT THIS BC YOURE THE FIRST PERSON TO DO THIS VERSION OF MY EVENT FOR ME <333

The Story of Us

The Umbrella Acadmey- The Poison of an Oleander

“Do you think he’ll like it?” You inquired, smiling dreamily at the thought of your father being happy with something you did.

“I dunno.” Poor Ben was struggling to stay upright as he tried to balance the heavy pot in his arms, nearly toppling over onto an expensive looking statue when turning a corner.

You and your brother had been leaving a mission the two of you had been sent out on when a plant store had caught your eye. Immediately, you had perked up and dragged Ben into the store, claiming that a plant would be a perfect gift for your father.

The boy wasn’t so certain, but one puppy-dog look from you and he- ever a good brother- had given in, sighing to himself before helping you pick out what you deemed to be the ‘perfect’ plant.

“Here should be good.” You told your brother, pointing to an open spot in the courtyard.

Ben grunted, setting the plant down before stretching out his sore arms.

“What’re you doing?” A voice asked from behind, making the two of you turn around.

You grinned at Diego, “We got dad a plant!”

His eyebrows furrowed, “Why?”

“Cause it’s a gift- duh.” You rolled your eyes slightly.

“Yeah, duh.” Ben mocked.

Agitation took over your brothers features, “I get that,” He snapped, “But why’re you getting the old man a gift?”

Before you could finish rolling your eyes and open your mouth to retort, yet another voice cut into the conversation.

“Mom told me to tell you that it’s time for lunch.”

Luther stepped out into the courtyard, falling short and warily eyeing you and Diego, who looked about a moment away from burning holes into one another with your hard glares.

You both ignored him, though, “It’s a plant, Diego. Can’t I get our dad a plant?”

With a small sigh of frustration out of your nose, you looked away from your brother and back to the prized gift.

Without knowing what possessed you, you reached out, as if to touch the plant, only for your hand to be harshly and promptly slapped away.

All four of your heads snapped up, staring wide eyed at your father, whom none of you knew was there in the first place.

“Number eight.” Reginald chided, his ever-present frown set upon his lips, “Don’t you know a poisonous oleander plant when you see one?”

Yours and Ben’s mouths dropped open.

“P-poisonous?” The boy squeaked, paling at the thought of what he had been holding in his arms.

A hard look was set upon your fathers face, “A poison that could lead to sickness, as well as even death.” His tone was clipped.

“I-we-“ You stuttered out, “The lady that sold it to us didn’t tell us!” You cried.

Reginald clicked his tongue in annoyance, “And what were you planning on doing with it, anyway!”

“We got it for you!” You told him, “We wanted to get you a plant! We had no idea it was poisonous!”

Your father stared at you in silence for a moment before turning on his heel and striding back inside, “Chop, chop, children. I believe Grace has already told you that the meal was ready.”

You and your siblings stood in an awed silence for a moment following your fathers departure, none of you quite knowing what to say.

“Holy shit,” Diego finally breathed out, “You tried to poison dad.” A grin slowly spread on his face, “You tried to poison dad.” He repeated before letting out a cackling laugh.

Luther glowered at him, “It’s not funny, someone could’ve seriously gotten hurt-“

“Hey, Klaus!” Diego ignored him, walking back towards the manor as he called out to your brother, “I dare you to come touch this cool plant outside!”

Luther paled, running after the boy in hopes of putting an end to any madness before it even began.

You and Ben looked at each other. Blinking once. Twice.

“Next time…” Ben mumbled, “Maybe we should just get him a cake or something.”

#book place’s 2k followers event #speak now: book place’s version #the umbrella academy #tua #tua x reader #the umbrella academy x reader #ben hargreeves #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x sister reader #ben hargreeves x reader platonic #diego hargreeves #diego hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader platonic #diego hargreeves x sister reader #hargreeves siblings #hargreeves siblings x reader

[mandyyvibes]

7! for Stucky, please! :D 💙

7- stucky; a kiss to shut them up

“Did you know that the scientific name for mandarin oranges is Citrus Reticulata?”

Steve couldn’t help but laugh, overwhelmed with emotion and affection for the boy curled up next to him. This was the first Christmas morning since he lost his Ma, which was harder on him than he could ever put into words. But he’d woken up to the front door closing softly, and Bucky trying to be sneaky as he tiptoed in with a whole sack of oranges.

After a month of lamenting over how expensive they were, and gentle teasing about how they were going to get scurvy like pirates, Bucky had brought him oranges for Christmas.

Bucky had then climbed back into bed next to him, warming him better than fancy electric heat ever could, and started rambling off every relevant piece of trivia he knew.

“Are we gonna keep talking about the oranges, or are we gonna eat them?” Steve asked, voice muffled where he had his face resting against the top of Bucky’s hair. The smell of his hair product lingered despite the morning bedhead. It was a smell that Steve had come to associate with Bucky, despite the thousands of other men who probably smelled the same.

“I was trying to build the anticipation,” There was a coy smile in Bucky’s voice.

Steve sat up properly so that he could see the beautiful smile, and so he could retrieve an orange from the bag set at the foot of the bed and get to peeling.

Bucky looked like a damn angel with his white undershirt against sunshine-golden skin, dark hairs loose against his forehead. Steve found himself watching his lips as he spoke, not really processing what he was saying as he floated off into a hazy daydream, one where he could kiss sweet orange juice off of those soft pink lips.

“-from China, all the way on the other side of the world. I swear it’s true, I read it in a book. Are you listening, Stevie? Are you alright?”

Steve blinked and coughed a few times, out of habit more than any current ailment.

“Yeah, I’m alright.”

Steve’s bony fingers worked deftly across the orange peel in an attempt to remove it all in one piece, taking extra care over the parts that tried to stick, even though it made his joints ache.

Bucky was talking still, off the subject of oranges entirely, going on about some fantasy story that he had read recently. Steve’s tongue darted out from between his lips, wetting them, then licking the tart and sticky substance off of his own fingers.

Bucky wrinkled his nose.

“Gross.”

“You’re gross,” Steve quipped back, pulling off a section of the orange and offering it to Bucky.

Bucky leaned forward to take it out of Steve’s hand with his teeth, eyes glinting in a way that knocked the wind out of Steve. His lips ghosted across Steve’s thumb and holy hell, they were softer than they looked.

Desire festered deep in Steve’s stomach, sending goosebumps across his arms. He quickly put another slice into Bucky’s mouth, recoiling his fingers quickly as if scared of Bucky’s lips.

“And in Chinese culture oranges represent good luck, and prosperity,” Bucky continued even around a mouthful of fruit. “Do you feel lucky yet?”

“I dunno,” Steve took a piece for himself, relishing in the burst of sweet citrus across his tongue. A stray droplet of juice ran down his chin.

Before he could move to wipe it away, Bucky’s hand was on his face. The work-calloused fingers were gentle against his pale skin.

Steve thought his heart might stop beating. He was going to go into cardiac arrest right then and there, and then Christmas would be ruined.

“Thanks, Buck.”

“Your face is red, are you alright? Do you have a fever?”

Steve nearly choked. “I think I’m okay…my circulation. Or something. Probably.”

“Oh. Here,” Bucky pulled the blanket off of his own lap and draped it across Steve’s shoulders, already starting on another tangent. “Dad has to work today, but Mom wants to bring the girls over later, she’s bringing dinner. It’s been a while since you’ve seen them, huh? Alice is so big now, nearly as tall as you-“

“Buck,”

He just laughed, putting his hands up. “Okay, I won’t give you any crap about your size. But-“

“Buck,” Steve sighed, growing frustrated that he couldn’t get a word in. His annoyance and the way that Bucky’s plush lips formed a pretty, kissable pout had his stomach turning over.

“Stevie,” Bucky mimicked his breathless tone, nudging his knee affectionately. “I-“

“Shut up,” Steve groaned, and it felt like something finally broke within him. It was sort of like when he snapped and threw the first punch, except so much sweeter.

Before he could process what he was doing he was moving, placing both hands on Bucky’s bare shoulders and pulling him in. And then they were kissing fervently, and Bucky was making this delicious groaning sound in the back of his throat, lips parting to allow Steve’s tongue inside.

Steve knew that Bucky was a good kisser, had seen girls go weak in the knees from his kisses. He knew what he was doing, but he let Steve take the lead anyway. And if the noise that he was making was any indication, he didn’t mind sitting back and let Steve kiss him stupid. m

Steve sucked sticky orange juice off of Bucky’s bottom lip, and then sucked on it some more, only pulling away when it was visibly kiss-swollen and Bucky was breathing hard.

Steve sat back, putting some space between them, and slowly withdrew his hands, folding them in his lap. They shook with the adrenaline of it all.

“I…I’m gonna be insufferable if you’re gonna do that every time I piss you off,” Bucky managed finally, meeting Steve’s gaze with wide eyes. “Or was that your way of thanking me for the oranges?”

Steve felt so much lighter, knowing he could kiss Bucky, like he’d been carrying tension and he didn’t even realize it.

“Both, I guess. And merry Christmas,” Steve gave him a wide grin and leaned in once again to plant a peck on his flushed cheek.

#finallyyyy it takes me so long to do anything #i know that this is objectively bad but any writing helps improve ur writing or whatever they say #ask game #stucky #stucky fanfic #steve rogers #pre serum steve #pre serum stucky #pre war stucky #bucky barnes #tw food mention

[tiressian]

Happy SatoShoko couples day/mid-birthday! Here's a ficlet on the house.

Fluff. Rated T.

.

Confront enough supernatural horrors beyond human comprehension and you developed an immunity to fear—at least, Satoru assumed that to be the case, right up until he found himself face to face with the front gates of the Ieiri estate. Estate, not home, which looked to be in the full swing of preparations for a huge celebration. Everywhere Satoru looked, people were setting up things, or cleaning things, or offloading trucks loaded with things. Children—and holy shit are there a lot of them, Satoru thought—darted in and out of the chaos in a game of tag, oblivious to the scoldings and pleas to play somewhere less hazardous. 

A boy paused in his chasing just to stick his tongue at him. 

Satoru crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue back. The boy squealed  and scampered behind the closest adult, who had been in the middle of sweeping leaves off the pathway leading from the front gate. The woman laughed and Satoru was relieved to find he recognised it. 

Shoko glanced over her shoulder where the boy was pointing and smiled. She left her broom with the boy and walked over. Behind Shoko, the boy was now brandishing the broom like a sword, engaged with an invisible enemy. 

“Should’ve known you’d find the biggest kid here and try to take his spot,” Shoko said, arriving in front of him. She took his carry-on in one hand and his hand in the other and started tugging both down the path. 

“It’s about making a statement,” Satoru replied. “‘Quiet dinner with the family’ my foot. What’s all this for? You expecting the Emperor himself to show up?”

Shoko rolled her eyes. “We’d have brought out the expensive sake if that were the case. No, this is for you, loser. Take it in.”

“Feel like I’m missing a few steps here.”

“I’ve never brought anyone home before.”

“Oh?”  

Shoko smiled self-deprecatingly. “My great-grandmother, she’s got this… I suppose you can call it intuition. She’s never been wrong. She said the person I bring home would be my one and only.” Shoko briefly let go of his hand to put air quotes around the words. 

“‘One and only,’” Satoru snorted. “I take it this is an engagement party then?” 

She nodded. “My great-grandmother’s got a petty streak. For years I’ve been telling her I’ve joined a convent. Technically true. Sorry for getting you mixed up in this, but I’ve got an idea to get back at her and I think it’ll be worth it to see the look on her face when she realises she’s wrong for once in her life. I mean, she's not wrong, but I want her to wallow in being wrong for a bit.”

Satoru only took a few seconds to catch what she was tossing out there. 

“A public breakup party?” he guessed. He scratched his neck. “Man I dunno about that. What if she has a stroke?"

“My family will respect you if you go along with it, trust me. And if she has a stroke it’s fine; I’ll heal her.”

Sometimes the apple fell not too far from the tree, and other times the apple never fell at all, Satoru thought. “Would they really respect me though?” he said dubiously, because already so few people did. Somehow it stung a tiny bit more when it was non-sorcerers.

Shoko shrugged like that settled the matter and continued down the path. The boy paused in his sword fight to stick his tongue out at Satoru as they passed and Satoru, naturally, stuck his out in reply. Shoko chuckled and simply ruffled the boy's hair.

“Still… kinda feel like I should leave a good impression,” Satoru said. 

Shoko waved it off. “Don’t worry; we can get ‘caught’ making out in a broom cupboard after, promise. I just wanna fuck her up for a little a bit. Plus if you do this for me I’ll let you…” she stood up on tiptoe and whispered the rest, and Satoru’s ears were on the verge of melting right off his head by the end of it. 

Satoru did not need further convincing after that. In fact, it was he who led them down the rest of the path, a spring in his step.

Any and all fears neutralised. 

#satoshoko #my fic