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bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove · 5 months

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Personal Heater - T.Nott

Summary - Theo acts as his sleepy girlfriend's personal heater on the night before Christmas, much to the dislike of their friends and roommates.

Word Count - 609

Warnings - foul language, drinking, female reader, use of Y/N, brief mention of troubling family, (Let me know if I missed any!)

Author's Note - Welcome to day three! I'm hoping to stay caught up with my writing, the end of my semester is approaching so everything is kinda piling up on me. I'm trying my best!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

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25 days of fics masterlist

Enjoy!

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Spending Christmas at Hogwarts wasn’t all that bad. It was quite nice to wake up and not have the responsibility of acting civil with family that were never around or family that liked to cause problems. Theodore and most of his friends decided that they’d stay during Christmas break, the night before Christmas, the boys were all awake in the common room. Some of them were playing wizards chess and the others were just fooling around with the other boys.

As it neared midnight, Y/N and Pansy had made their way to the common room with the rest of their friends. Pansy sitting between Blaise and Draco and Y/N making herself comfortable next to Theo. Once he got a good look at her, he knew right away that she had just woken up, her eyes were red and sleepy, her body was warm against his and her eyes were watering with how much she had been yawning.

“Lay down bellissima, you look tired,” Theo whispered in her ear, she looked up at him with a loving gaze. She took his offer willingly, kissing his cheek in return as she laid her head down on his shoulder and her legs over his lap.

“Thank you, Theo,” She whispered back, a drowsy tone laced in her voice.

Within minutes, she had fallen back asleep, this time sleeping soundly in her boyfriend’s arms where she wished she was when she had fallen asleep earlier in the night. Crabbe decided that now was a great time to become obnoxiously loud for no reason at all. “Shut up you buffoon! If you wake her up I will not hesitate to kill you,” Theo threatened the boy, who immediately shut his mouth in fear.

“How dare anyone wake his bellissima! Oh it's blasphemous!” Pansy teased earning a deadly glare from the boy.

“Shut up Pans,” Y/N mumbled sleepily, snuggling herself closer to her boyfriend’s warmth.

“Let’s go to bed before you fall asleep again,” Theo suggested before urging her up from the couch and leading her to his dorm.

“Why are the dungeons so cold?” She whined, her feet freezing on the concrete of the dungeons despite the thick socks on her feet.

“We are surrounded by concrete, amore mio. Of course it’s going to be cold.”

She rolled her eyes in a playful manner as she climbed into his bed. She was shivering at this point, her teeth chattering against each other. He climbed into bed with her, holding her body close to his. She slid her hands under his shirt to try and warm them, Theo wiggling away from them. “Salazar bellissima, your hands are so cold!” He shrieked in surprise.

“And you’re so warm, Teddy! I can’t help myself, you’re like my own heater,” She told him. The two of them shared a laugh before letting out yawns. Neither of them remember falling asleep, only remembering sleepy laughter and getting woken up by a drunk Blaise and Draco as the sun began to rise. “What time is it, you heathens?” She asked her boyfriend’s drunk roommates.

“Like 6,” Blaise slurred out before collapsing on his bed. She looked to her boyfriend who had messy hair and droopy eyes.

“Happy Christmas, Teddy,” She whispered to him.

“Happy Christmas, amore mio,” He whispered back before planting a kiss to her lips. He let out a hum as he pulled away, “Your lips are cold.”

“Maybe you could warm them for me?” She winked at him causing a chuckle from him and a collective groan from his roommates. In turn, Theo closed the curtains and took his girlfriend up on her suggestion.

#harry potter #theodore nott x reader #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #slytherin #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #pansy parkinson #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott imagine

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withleeknow · 4 months

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thirteen percent.

pairing: minho x reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; mentions of drinking, cursing, hella unedited and tbh i kinda gave up toward the end but i wanted to post smth lmao word count: 1.2k note: inspired by the events of friday night in which i had 1.3 bottle of soju and promptly passed out while unmuted all night in my discord server lmfao

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation › masterlist › ko-fi

the first thing you do when you wake up is scowl.

at the sun. at the sky. at the cars and at the people going about their day on the street below. at soonie and doongie when you find them just peacefully existing in their respective corners of the room.

at minho who's looking at you from the doorway with an amused expression on his face.

"look who's finally up," he says, approaching the bed with a glass of water in his hands. "it's almost 1pm, heathen."

you groan, covering your face with your hands as you try to sink further into the mattress. "why are you so loud today?"

"this is my normal volume?"

"your normal volume is loud."

"hmm, could this be because last night you knocked back an entire bottle of soju and then some and therefore you have a raging headache right now?"

you blink, still delirious from the night before. it's obvious that the alcohol hasn't completely left your system and minho is right. there's a pounding in your head and you wish it would stop.

you ignore his sassy quip, trying to recall what happened. "how did i get home?"

it was supposed to be a cozy night in with your friends. you'd been looking forward to last night for weeks because all of you had been so busy with your respective lives, and a fun girl's night was desperately needed. to catch up, to gossip about your partners, to escape your tiresome realities for a few hours.

and of course, to unwind and drink. not to the point of being blackout drunk; just to de-stress a little.

"how do you think?" minho asks, holding out the water for you until you muster enough strength to sit up and take it from him. he watches as you greedily gulp down the liquid to satiate your dry throat, giving him back the empty glass when you're done and lying back down again. he sets the glass on your bedside table before he joins you under the covers. "boyfriend of the year went out in the middle of the night to drag your ass home."

"you took me home?"

"i just said boyfriend of the year, didn't i?"

despite his smartass attitude, minho still snakes an arm around your body to pull you close to him, until your head is lying on his chest while he strokes your hair gently.

"it was just soju. plum soju!" you try to justify your actions, throwing a leg over his and snuggling further into the warmth of his body. "only thirteen percent!"

minho scoffs. "that's how they get you. the fun flavors make you think that you're gonna be fine if you do just a couple more shots. next thing you know, you're sending your boyfriend gibberish messages at 2am."

to emphasize his point, minho shows you his phone, goes straight to the text thread you two share.

you mostly sent him nonsense, seemingly a lot of keyboard smashes and blurry drunken selfies of you and your friends. then came the last few messages.

you: oh naue why rom sponnign you: i wsntto go homrr you: mimo tskeeee me homeee

"oh." you purse your lips. "drunk me was a moment."

"no, she was a lot of moments actually. you stayed up for almost two hours after i brought you home."

"doing what?"

your boyfriend looks down at you, an unimpressed look on his face before he rolls his eyes and sighs, recanting the story of how you exhausted him just hours prior.

"stop squirming," minho said, trying to keep your head from lolling to the side as he wiped at your face with a cotton pad doused in micellar water.

but you kept giggling, kept trying to hold his cheeks so you could kiss him. "mimo, you're so pretty. my pretty, pr-" hiccup! "pretty mimo."

it took him thirty whole minutes just to take your makeup off, then another forty five to go through your skincare routine.

it was an entire struggle to get you out of your clothes and into your sleepwear because apparently, the feeling of him tugging your blouse over your head and sliding your jeans down your legs tickled that amorous part of your brain - your horndog side, if you will.

you instantly latched onto him, climbing on top of him to sit on his lap, attempting to trail kisses along his neck when all minho was trying to do was put your t-shirt on.

"not now," he scolded you lightly, pushing you away by your shoulders before he held your arms up just long enough to slip the shirt over your body.

"whyyy not?"

"mostly because you're about ten seconds away from passing out."

but that wasn't something that your intoxicated brain could comprehend. all you understood was that your boyfriend didn't want to have sex with you, that he was rejecting you.

you went quiet all of a sudden, your lips pouting, your eyes turning glassy before you practically sob, "you don't want me anymore."

minho could only sigh.

"what now?" he had finally managed to get your restless ass into bed, thinking you'd surely knock out within seconds of hitting the sheets. but when he returned to the bedroom five minutes later, having cleared away your clothes to be put in the washer in the morning, minho found you lying on your side, your eyes glued to your phone, your face illuminated by the blue light coming from the device. "why aren't you sleeping?"

you were going through your camera roll, watching your old videos like they were your favorite tv show. videos of you and him, videos of him and the cats, or just random videos of him that you took when you thought he wasn't paying attention.

it was cute how you were so immersed, how you kept giggling and making heart eyes at the version of minho captured on your phone. it made him smile, just standing there and watching you like that.

it was beyond endearing, but it was also fucking 4:18am.

minho snatched the device away from you and put it somewhere you couldn't reach before he settled into bed with you.

"i miss my mimo," you whined. "give me back my mimo."

he knew there was no use in telling you that you didn't need to miss him when he, the object of your affection himself, was lying next to you. instead, he just yanked you closer, tucking your face into the crook of his neck and holding you tightly so you couldn't move, hoping that it would eventually lull you to dreamland.

"your mimo is right here. now go to sleep, you menace."

"and not to mention you kept-"

"nope." you put a hand over minho's mouth so he would shut up. "i've heard enough."

he pushes your hand away. "i deserve compensation for what i had to go through last night."

"the satisfaction of taking care of your wonderful girlfriend wasn't enough for you?"

"no," he says. then, you both just stare at each another for a few minutes.

"fine," you relent. "i'll make it up to you with one hundred kisses."

"i want a cat tower."

permanent taglist: @onlyycb97wife @starsandrqindrops @borahae-reads @abbiestearsricochet @cutiespaghetti @anthropologykpopmultistan @moonlinos @mjnhoz @caitlyn98s @piercidh34rts @stayceebs97 @linocz @yaorzu-blog @biribarabiribbaem @kayleefriedchicken

#stray kids fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #skz fic #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz x you #lee know fluff #lee know scenarios #lee know x reader #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho x you #stray kids #lee know #lee minho

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advisorsage · 4 months

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I think I've fucked up

#i ranted to my girlfriend and i know she probably is just busy but my brain is screaming that i made her upset even though..#my rant was about my own situation and how i feel about it and then i apologized for complaining at her and said that i wasn't supposed to #and I'm worried she thinks she's not supposed to complain to me when i just meant that i don't like telling people about my shit #and i know she said i could tell her and that she wants to support me but she and my boyfriend are my first relationships #and i don't want to fuck up and i think i have and i haven't told my boyfriend about my diagnosis yet #and I'm scared I'll complain at him too when i tell him and i don't care that he's told me i can and should complain to him #i don't want to saddle them with my complaints #and i called out of work because of how I'm feeling from my diagnosis and that's what i ranted to my girlfriend about #and i'm terrified she doesn't want to date me anymore because my reaction to being diagnosed with one more thing is so fucking pathetic #and i just need to cry and scream and throw up and i can't do any of those things and i feel like everyone except her is telling me #it's no big deal when it is a big deal and i don't think i got it through to my therapist and I'm just freaked out and i don't want to cling #and and and I'm just. i hate existing right now #i feel like i shouldn't do what i want to at home because i called out from work and i know that's stupid but i don't feel like i deserve #nice things right now despite needing them and I'm just so tired but not sleepy and i feel like I'm going to have a panic attack and #i can't even do anything about it!#fuck #i fucked myself over basically #anyway #drink water you heathens

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ravensmadreads · 8 months

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Unhinged totally unasked for thots about Riding Pedro Boys

Authors Note: So this came from me chugging entirely too many energy drinks and then projectile vomiting in Taylors inbox. I'd like to warn you that: English isn't my first language, I have never written smut before, I'm not a real writer, and also I'm trash goblin levels of unhinged about this. That being said; Enjoy and uhh. Forgive me Fandom

JAVIER PEÑA

Javier Pena doesn't let you do it.

Don't @ me LISTEN! (YES I STARTED OFF WITH A CONTROVERSIAL THOT FUCKING BITE ME.)

That man does not have the time, or the patience, or the good sense (the sense is at the other end) to let you ride. He needs the control okay? And sometimes it's not even about the control ! It's the frustration. It piles and piles and piles until he snaps. He needs to do. He will bend you over and work his frustration away until he has had enough and you let him because he needs it. (And lets be real he makes it worth your while every single time)

BUT. When he finally fucking retires, and gets a ranch, and breaths air not tinged with the smells of death, cigarettes and guns for the first time in however many years, and maybe drinks some fucking water, he takes you out on a date. He fumbles through the entire thing, panics because he thinks he blew it, still manages to get you home, gets ridden for the first time in like 6 years, and can't walk straight for an entire day and stammers every time someone asks him why.

JAVIER GUTIERREZ

Javi G loves it. He loves watching you. Gets all puppy dog wide eyed (remember the pool scene face??? Thats it.) and you have to really focus because his look of straight up wonder and awe and bright eyed eagerness makes you want to cry. He's panting like he's running a marathon, running his big hands EVERYWHERE he can reach. He makes you feel worshipped and adored and so very very loved. Thanks you after. For being so amazing, and so wonderful to him, and thanks the universe that he found you. Cause he's sap. You definitely cry after.

JOEL MILLER

(Watch me be controversial again) Joel is fucking tired okay? He has old man bones and creaky joints and his back is achy. Patrol was agony, Jesse wouldn't shut up the entire time, and Tommy was giving him shit, and he has no energy to drill anyone into the mattress (as much as we all want him to). He's just plain tired. He likes you on top. Likes it slow (like a roast chicken on a sunday slow). Enjoys the gradual build up, likes to lean back, watch with half open eyes as you take your time. Wants to indulge in something beautiful at the end of the world, and that something is you. He makes sexy grunting noises, mutters a whole lot of praise ~and filth~ and just y'know. Savours it. 🫠🫠🫠 savours you. 🫠

DIETER BRAVO

Dieter is a maniac. (Leave him alone he has adhd!!) He can't still still for the life of him so you best believe he changes positions 6 times and the only way you're getting to ride is if you're also putting some weight elsewhere. To hold him down! You squeeze his neck once and he MELTS. INSTANTLY. Loses all sense. Starts babbling and whimpering and making extremely pathetic noises. Will definitely buck up and whine. PRAISES YOU. BEGGING. LOUD NOISES.

MAX PHILLIPS

Max is a heathen. He just likes watching you bounce. That's it. That's the post :p

MARCUS PIKE

Marcus P is a romantic. He will be doing the whole "lean forward and try to get kisses in between" while also "moaning and maintaining eye contact" and he's holding you so tight , squeezing your sides and also muttering declarations of love. About how he wants a life with you, and a family, and a home, and a future. How he's going to "make you so happy baby, I promise I will, I swear to you". Doesn't let you off for from on top of him for atleast a half hour after; kissing all over your face and rubbing your back and petting your hair "I meant all of it sweetheart. I want all of you." shsbzgwgsvsg ilovehimsomuch and I've only ever seen gifsets of this man what is wrong with me

MARCUS MORENO

Marcus M is A MENACE. He wears his stupid glasses, and has his stupid shirt off, while he does stupid taxes/meeting plans in bed. You keep throwing side glances and getting increasingly wound up and he just has this gentle smirk but he's mostly ignoring you. You sidle up to him and maybe start kissing his jaw, laying gentle pecks down his neck, and he's still fukcungh working "Baby. I need to finish this. I'm sorry, you need to wait." But that smirk is still there and it's driving you crazy and maybe you keep kissing until you reach his *coughs* and then you're working on getting him interested. You can still hear the fucking pen scratching though and so you go deeper, and he raises an eyebrow. "be good now honey" You're settling in his lap and he has you sitting there until he has finished his paperwork with you whimpering and trying not to squirm because you want to be good you really do and you know he'll make it so much better but he feels so good and when he's finally finally done you get to move but you're so wound up you can't pull yourself together enough to find a rhythm and you're nearly in tears and he has to grip your sides and murmur instructions in your ear and help you until you're satisfied and just when you think he's done, and about to flip you over, he adjusts his grip and starts moving from underneath you until you're crying and he's finished ~which doesnt happen until you've come 2 more times~

DAVE YORK

Dave. Oh my gosh Dave. Dave is a strict dom if ever there was one. With him it's a punishment. He'll tell you to hold off until he's done which is freaking impossible with how deep he gets, and how he likes to warm up his hands on your butt while you're trying desperately to hold onto that last thread of control. He is muttering absolute filth, holding your arms behind your back with one hand while the other is either laying smack after smack or rubbing you furiously all the while he's got the smuggest look. "Don't you dare baby. Be a good girl now. Listen and obey for once". But you can't because he's not fair and he knows it. And when you do finally fall apart he's clenching his teeth trying to hold back himself and his hands are holding you up as you gasp his name like it's the only word you know. He's running his hands down your back and kissing you softly and helping you catch your breath and when you finally get your heart to stop pounding and look up at him, he's watching you with this dangerously soft smile and he goes "oh you're in for it now aren't you honey?" and kisses your forehead while you try not to whimper.

FRANKIE MORALES

Frankie is a soft boy. He loves it. Craves it. He loves giving up control. Wants you to tie him up and have your way until he has no thoughts left in that pretty little head. He is swearing like an absolute sailor the entire time, calling you ma'am, begging to be released so he can kiss you and touch you, absolutely nearly breaks the head board once he was so desperate. Wants to be edged but also is the biggest WIMP about it. Will pout and swear and beg and plead but then want you to deny him again. Will definitely be mumbling absolute nonsense once you're done. Needs all the aftercare. Blushes pink when he gets it. Wraps himself around you like a HUGE koala bear after. ~and returns the edging favour 3 times over when he gets in his Captain Francisco Morales Mood~

JACK DANIELS

BONUS TWO I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT and tumblr won't let me put gifs for:

Jack makes every single cowboy joke known to man. You have to put your hand on his mouth to get him to shut the hell up. His eyes get all glassy when you do. He puts his hat on top of your head and busies himself in your neck (dual benefits: A. He shuts up and B. HICKIES) will definitely drag you on top of him in his Bronco (he likes to show off) will pull up on the side of the road almost 70% of the times you drive together. Bites you over your clothes. Loves the way you grab desperately at this leather jacket. Definitely makes you bend over and 'clean up the mess sugar' before driving like the hounds of hell are after him all the way back home and doing it all over again because "we gotta make you a mama now love"

PERO TOVAR

Pero got married after he came back and retired as a sell sword. His wife is a soft but sassy thing who's a little (read: not at all, she returns his snark twice over) intimidated by him but also thinks he's a good man because he saved her village from raiders. She has seen him grumble and snark at but then also share his food with the orphans who works at the village inn. She's inexperienced (let me live my victorian life) and he doesn't really think he deserves her but also he's not so much an idiot to say no to someone like her. She's the village "healer" and he met her when he got stabbed by one of the raiders (arm wound: not serious.) He has to teach her. She gets shy and flustered, which is a total 180 from her sassy self, and Pero loves it. She makes the most amazing sounds that have him thinking that maybe he did something right in his life to end up in her arms. She wants to please her new husband and asks her married friends for advice and they tell her about this new position. So she asks him, stuttering and tripping over words, if she could try something she heard about? From a friend? She straddles him and Pero loses his mind. He's closing his eyes and clenching his jaw so hard and she's whimpering in the most DELICIOUS way and he's trying so hard to hold back and let her take her pace and she's so worried "am I not doing it right?" Pero has to take 3 deep breaths before he's centred enough to answer and then he helps her. Puts his hands on her hips to guide her. Puts one of her hands on his shoulder "steady now pequenita" and puts the other low on her belly and presses in so she can feel him. Loves the way she cries out. Bends forward to leave little marks everywhere he can reach. She's scrambling at his chest, leaving nail marks he loves, and finally grabbing his hair and pulling until he groans. And when they're both done and sated and sweaty he kisses her, looks her in the eye and winks. "I'm going to have to go thank your friend now, mi esposa."

DIN DJARIN

Din and you dont have time. The razor crest is finally in hyperspace, you got shot at for the 50th time in 2 weeks, (because Murphys Law seems to be the only law Mando never breaks), you're exhausted, sweaty, and the giggly green monster of chaos only made you chase him down from the top of a weapons cabinet twice before he finally decided to take a nap. You're frustrated, and in desperate need of a shower, and a nap, but also you can't get the image of Mando fighting out of your head. Before you know it, the hormones have taken over and you're attacking him in the pilot seat. The bucket is off (I refuse to look at my own reflection in the tin cans helmet while we do the do), he's got you arching into him, your shirt is half torn from the top because Din refuses to wait for "so many fucking buttons Meshla" the gloved hand is squeezing the back of your neck, his mouth is on your chest, his other hand (you only managed to get one glove off) is splayed out on your back. You're riding him like you're trying to break him and his thigh holster? thing (do i look like i can figure out what they're called?) is digging marks into your skin but you're too turned on to care. It's frantic, it's messy, you're PRAYING the tiny green menace stays asleep as you do your best to muffle your sounds. The refresher isn't big enough for a round two, (you still do your best), and your legs feel like jelly, when you finally pass out; curled up on top of the human space heater while he hums Mando'a in your ear.

*****

TAGGING: @chronically-ghosted (you are a menace but ily)

@fuckyeahdindjarin (here I go trying that writing thing again, stop me pls)

#raven writes #i apologize for all of this #idk what came over me #i was possessed #and taylor refused to sedate me #javier pena x reader #dieter bravo x reader #javier gutierrez x reader #joel miller x reader #marcus moreno x reader #marcus pike x reader #dave york x reader #pero tovar x reader #din djarin x reader #max phillips x reader #frankie morales x reader #jack daniels x reader

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fornasedensgudar · 7 months

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A starter guide for new norse polytheists.

1. There are manny gods, you dont have to like them all or give offerings to all of them, work with those you feel close to and vibe with. If you dont like a god, then dont work with them, no shame. Try things and dont be afraid to do things wrong.

2. There is no such thing as a bad offering, or to little. A poor mans grain is worth more to the gods than a kings gold. Its about what the offering means more than the offering it self.

3. You dont have to drink or offer mead, its good, but if you cant or dont want to have anything to do with alcohol then thats fine, I recomend honey water and Milk mixed with honey as non alcoholic toasting.

4. Tbh, the gods are not that important for every day, the animistic is more. And if you have a hard time to conect to the gods, then trying to conect and work with with your local nature and house spirits is a good start. They are in no distant realm, but right there with you.

5. You dont have to know evrery myth to have a strong connection to the gods and nature, its good to read and know things but its not a who can read the most contest.

6. You dont have to follow or litsen to others, walk your own path in the heathen forest, and when you feel ready, walk with others if you like, but dont feel like you have to join a group or follow some "spiritual leader".

7. The less money you spend the better, your spirituality should be personal and grounded in what you feel is important. Buy the mead horn and god statue if you like, but your not a bad heathen for not having the space or wealth for a sick as altar.

8. Every forest is a temple and evey stone is a altar, and for you city heathens out there, remeber, the gods are not magically band from city parks and towns. You can conect to them wher ever and when ever.

9. Dont be a natzi!

#norse mythology #polytheism #heathen #pagan polytheism #norse polytheism #pagan #paganism #fornsed

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el-tur-el · 2 months

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like a heathen clung to the homily.

Pairing: Harper Geraldus x F!Tav

Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content. 18+, Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1,102. Read it on AO3.

Little bit of a schedule swap - Rolan piece should be up on Sunday. Have this in the meantime, the brain bees said 'must write sad wet cat man'. (This is not the fic I have planned that involves edging, that will be coming later.)

Warmth. Patchouli and some kind of flower that she doesn’t know the name of, essential oils pooling in little slicks on the surface of the water. She sees herself in them, iridescent and raw, constantly changing shape. Home can be whatever you make it; she learned that during her time fighting the Illithid threat, when it came in the form of purple robes, of quietly murmured prayers. Of the flash of a silver sword, the peek of fangs from between pouty lips. The most elegant horns she had ever seen. The smell of peat moss and petrichor. Brimstone and something sweet.

It looks a little different now. A solid torso, a wiry frame; his back pressed against her stomach, his head tilted against her shoulder. His eyes are closed, and she can’t help but think that it was all worth it. For this. Just this. To be able to hold him, to be able to contort herself into the shape of his home.

She loves him, she loves him, she loves him.

She presses her lips to the crown of his head, and he smiles, slow and lazy. Sweet in that sort of way that makes her heart seize up behind her sternum. He deserves the world - she only wishes a human being could be capable of offering up something of that magnitude. She would move mountains. She would write sonnets. She’d kiss every freckle, trace the constellations mapped out on his skin, document them all to memory.

What a beautiful, fragile thing a heart is. What a privilege to be able to cradle one in your hands.

“I love you.” She murmurs against the soft black of his hair, slick with sweat and water and oils that were far, far too expensive. Indulgence breeds complacency, but he’s worth it. “Can I take care of you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.” He rasps, all wet-eyed wonder, thick and tempting, pools of honey.

Her palm splays out flat between his pectorals, soapy and damp, and she drags it down the dip and curve of his stomach, his flanks. Past his navel and southward, to somewhere warmer. Yielding. Her fingers loosely wrap around his cock, and she swears she will take him apart piece by piece with the reverence he deserves.

He lets out a shuddering breath, tilting his head to press his lips against the soft column of her throat. Such a pretty thing, soft and pliable against her. Malleable like clay, something to shape with her hands, make and unmake. She moves, slow, and he whines against her skin. She could bottle that sound. Drink it down every night. Headier than wine. Sweeter than mead.

“So good for me.” She breathes out, praise and prayer all in one. “Just like that, sweetheart. Look at you.”

His hips shift against her grip, the water in the tub sloshing with the movement. She’ll have to wipe up the floors later, but she cares little; another act of tenderness, another reminder of a love that she never once thought she’d be blessed with.

“Tav.”

“I’ve got you, lovely.” She moves at an achingly slow pace. There’s no rush anymore. Not now, not here, in this space she’s made for him. In the yawning canyon of tenderness that she’s so carefully crafted. A house of worship. A church, an altar, a prayer. Communion.

He’s always been a restless thing, and this time is no different; squirming against her, pushing up into her hand. Needy. Wanton. Debauched. She studies his face, the furrow of his brow, the bow of his lips. Memorizes it, pockets it for later. Savors every little detail, every whine, every moan.

“Does that feel good, Geraldus?” Something about this man, this bright and beautiful and brilliant man, has put her in a state of perpetual motion. The movement of her lips wrapping around every syllable, the innate need to be touching him at all times. Frenetic and frenzied in her need to prove devotion.

“Y-Yes, Tav, Gods.” His voice cracks, trembles. A low heat pools in her stomach. “I want - I -”

“Anything.” She whispers, and she means it.

“I want you, please.”

And really, truly, who is she to say no to that.

She’s silently grateful that she splurged on the ornate tub for their home, nearly the size of a pool; one of the few things she’d allowed herself to be selfish about. He gently disentangles himself from her grasp, turning over so he’s facing her, his cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink. He presses his lips to hers like it’s the first time. Does this every time. Still so soft and unsure of himself, even now.

Her hands come to his shoulder blades, and she sighs into the tentative press of his mouth as he pushes into her. She feels weightless, here, underneath him, the heat of the water around them. He traces a fingertip between the valley of her breasts, down to her hip bone. Exploratory. Cartography. Venturing landscapes made of flesh and breath. Two fingers slowly press against her clit as he ruts into her - shallow, languid.

It is not heat and fire and fury. It is home.

“I love you.” He sighs, his forehead pressing against hers.

Even now, with him settled against her, she is sick with yearning. It’s cloying and syrupy and saccharine, the way she loves him. Her friends regularly rib her about it. But she doesn’t care.

Happy. For the first time in a very, very long time.

His breathing grows ragged, his noises a little breathier, a little higher. Her muscles tense, anticipation thrumming under the surface of paper-thin skin, bursting at the seams. To watch him unspool like embroidery thread, to hold the weight of him against her as he falls apart.

“I’ve got you.” She breathes out again. “Let go for me, sweet thing.”

He shakes against her, a thin, high whimper spilling past his lips. His fingers press against her clit a little more firmly, still so eager to please even as he dissolves into little more than broken sounds before her. She keens, heat rushing through her veins, spilling forth. Her head tilts back and her eyes flutter shut, caught between the here and not, weightless.

They settle against one another, arms wrapping around skin spattered with rivulets of water, his face tucked into the crook of her neck.

Would that she were a church, so that she may bless and keep him always.

The silk swallows her up that evening. The thought haunts her, rattles about her mind.

Milk and honey. A crown of thistle and thorn. Royalty. Deity. Lover.

#geraldus x tav #bg3 geraldus #geraldus bg3 #harper geraldus #harper geraldus x tav #bg3 smut #bg3 x reader #bg3 fanfiction #bg3

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icycoldninja · 5 months

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Dmc incorrect quotes

Nero, tearing up the room: Where are they? Nero, looking under a pillow: Who moved them? Who moved my children? Nero: Somebody moved my M&M's, and now I am going to start killing.

Dante: Then either Sonic is a god or could kill god, and I do not care if there is a difference.

V: Why shouldn't you put a toaster in a bathtub full of water? Nero: Because your toast would get soggy!

V: Let’s not Dante this into a worse situation than it already is. Dante: Did you just use my name as a verb?

Dante: Can you pass the salt? V: Can you pass away? Dante: Too much salt.

V: I drink to forget but I always remember. Nero: You're drinking orange juice.

Dante: I got an idea! V: Does it involve breaking the law? Dante: By now don’t you think that’s a given? V: I was just trying to be optimistic. Dante: Don’t bother.

Dante: I'm gonna nickname my child "Lil Bitch". Nero: I see you're passing on your name.

Nero: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. V: Wasn’t Dante with you? Dante: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Nero, Vergil, and Dante are playing poker. Dante is winning by a long shot. Nero: Aw, come on. Vergil: It’s not fair! He doesn't even know what we’re playing! Dante: Go Fish?

Nero, holding an antique bottle: Is this whiskey or perfume? Dante: grabs and chugs the entire bottle Dante: Dante: It's perfume.

Dante: What is wrong with you? Vergil: Many, many things… Vergil: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Dante: I can’t do this, it’s against my moral compass. Nero: YOUR MORAL COMPASS IS A ROULETTE WHEEL! Dante: …Your point?

Nero: I can be your partner for the next race. Vergil: Sorry, Nero. It's a sibling race. Dante: Maybe there's a contest for lonely children after this. Vergil: It's only children, Dante. A lonely child is what you're gonna be when I sell you!

Dante: They called me the B-word. Vergil: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’.

Nero: If you’re going to suggest I try dropping twenty feet down a pitch dark tower in the hope of hitting a couple of greasy little steps which might not even still be there, you can forget it. Vergil: There is an alternative, then. Nero: Out with it. Vergil: You could drop five hundred feet down a pitch black tower and hit stones which certainly are there.

Vergil: If there’s one thing I learned from Dante, it’s to set people’s expectations real low, so you end up surprising them by practically doing nothing at all.

Nero, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Vergil, standing in front of Nero: bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen Nero, crying: Please…stop…

#incorrect quotes #dmc incorrect quotes #That last one tho #He eats KitKats with motivation #Dmc #Dmc1 #Devil may cry #Dmc5 #Devil may cry 5 #Funny #Vergil #Dante #Nero #Sparda boys #Vergil sparda #Dante sparda #Nero sparda?#Lol

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dickmedowndc · 11 months

Text

Sour - Jaime Reyes x Reader

Word Count: 1,686

Summary: Of all the things Jaime expects to find in his partner's fridge, a whole bag of seedless lemons certainly is not one of them. At first, he thinks it’s for food and drinks as a garnish or ingredient, but then he never sees them used for such things. It isn’t until one afternoon when he stays over to study that he finally finds out how his chaotic partner eats them.

Notes: Requested by @pink-lemonadae-san. Okay, so this is partially based on me as a heathen; my roommate bought seedless lemons for her water, she then offered me one and I just scarfed it down, flesh and all, which concerned her.

…★…

“Did you already get the keys? I can’t find mine!” The voice of his partner rings down from whichever room they’re scrounging around in, and Jaime snaps up at the sound. A moment of patting down his own pockets confirms he has picked up the keys already and he yells back as much before opening the fridge, like he had been going to do only moments before.

He just needs a quick snack. They’re running late for the show already and won’t have time to eat until later. But Jaime knows that if he doesn’t get something in his body now then he will either be forced to endure Khaji Da’s lecture or his stomach singing the song of its people. Whichever unfortunate outcome would make itself known first.

All he does is grab a quick snack; one he knows that his partner sets aside for him. That should be the end of it. And it is. At least until he is closing the fridge door when a large splash of yellow catches his eyes.

At the bottom of the fridge sits a large, open bag of seedless whole lemons.

It’s a strange enough sight, but Jaime has no time to consider it further when you round the corner in a huff and usher him out the door, assuring him that he can eat on the way there.

By the end of the night, the unnatural resident fruit of the fridge is forgotten by Jaime as he enjoys the show that they just barely make it in time for.

And it remains forgotten until a week later when he makes his way back to their place after a long and grueling fight had cancelled date night. At almost 1 in the morning, he’s knocking on the door, only for his very tired and sleep deprived partner to open up, confusion on their face until they see his weary state and move to let him inside.

He can’t even manage to make it to the bedroom to collapse on the comfortable mattress, instead barely making it to the couch before falling over its arm and laying face first into the cushions. He has class in the morning, and his partner’s home is closer to his school as is – so with Khaji Da already sending off a notice to his family that he was okay, Jaime has little to worry about.

Before sleep can overtake him however, his partner has jostled him, moving to lay his head in their lap and he complies. He flips over to look up at them blearily. They offer a small smile before running their fingers through his hair, leaving him to close his eyes and enjoy the soothing sensation.

Khaji Da will wake him with enough time to take a shower and get ready, and for the moment, Jaime relaxes enough to go to sleep, lulled by the quiet humming of his partner.

When Khaji Da finally rouses him, he finds himself curled around his partner in their bed – how they managed to pull him there was beyond him, but he’s thankful for it. The scarab gives one more warning for him to get up that Jaime ignores, arms wrapped around his significant other as he curls tighter against them. He’ll enjoy this for a moment longer. At least he will until he squeezes a bit too tight, causing them to stir.

Needing to get ready for class, and not wanting to wake them, he pulls himself from under the covers after giving the top of their head a quick kiss and moves to get ready. Silently thankful for the spare clothes he leaves behind and the hot water of the shower against his sore body.

It’s in the act of grabbing a quick breakfast that has him pausing and jarringly reminded of the bag of lemons – sitting at the bottom of the fridge still, more than half of them gone. But once again, he has no time to think about them, prompted to move by the sentient technology attached to his spine.

He really needs to pry about it – from what he knew, there had been no food and no desserts you had made requiring that many lemons. In fact, he had yet to see you use them at all.

It’s something he can ask about later, he reasons once more.

But the opportunity never arises, because three days later he gets his answer without asking.

You’re curled against his back. Doing what? He isn’t sure, eyes too busy scanning the page of his textbook as he studies. He needs to use whatever time he can to stay as far ahead of his course work as possible, his busy lifestyle leaving too many opportunities to fall behind.

So that was the plan for their day. Jaime would stay over for the evening until he was satisfied with how much work he had completed, or he had met his study goal, and afterwards, the pair would order out pizza and enjoy a movie or maybe just cuddle.

Cuddling sounded better, if Jaime was being honest. Life had been even more hectic recently, and the chance to just relax, and maybe catch up on the affection the universe had stopped him from receiving would be the best course of action.

And that plan would have gone just as well, if not for your next choices.

“Hey, do you want a snack?”

The current Blue Beetle gives a little hum of no, too focused on his reading. But it doesn’t stop him from seeing you roll off the bed and make your way to the kitchen.

In fact, he doesn’t even notice what you bring back to eat until Khaji Da speaks up after you have already made yourself comfortable again.

“Your partner has just taken a bite out of a lemon.”

That causes him to pause.

Khaji Da was just messing with him. Right?

Slowly he turns so he can see you from the corner of his eye. And sure enough, you’ve dug your nail into the lemon and peeled some of the skin away, taking a bite of the yellow flesh and letting the excess juice drip onto the plate in your lap.

It has him reeling, and Jaime forgets to hide that he’s spying, closing his book before turning to face you.

“Are you just... eating a whole lemon?”

It has you making eye contact, lemon in hand and bewildered expression on your face – like somehow, he’s the weird one for asking.

You glance between him and the lemon before nodding your head. “Yeah? I’m having a snack.”

Jaime furrows his brows, lips pursed as he studies you for a moment. “That’s a lemon.”

“It is.”

“Just a whole lemon.”

You say nothing, only nodding once more before turning back and taking another bite of the flesh.

Jaime can only struggle to find the words he wants before he gives up, shoulders dropping. “At least you don’t eat the skin,” he comments, before he sees the look that crosses your face.

You say nothing, but make direct eye contact, and he can already imagine what is about to happen – he just prays to be wrong.

But no, it seems that his comment had been taken to heart, and without breaking eye contact or changing from that same serious expression, you take a bite out of the lemon, skin, flesh and all, before chewing and swallowing.

Jaime looks horrified, and if you didn’t feel so defensive over your snack, maybe it would be funny.

Okay, it’s still a little funny. You can just laugh later.

He takes one deep breath, eyes closed, then turns towards the ceiling for a moment before adjusting to face you.

“Did you eat the skin just because I said that” is the first question out of his mouth when he finally looks back at you.

“No, sometimes I just like eating the skin last, but you started this.”

“Is this what you’ve been doing with that bag of lemons in the fridge?”

“Actually, this is from a new bag, I finished off the others.”

The look on his face is too good – so concerned, and so distraught at the same time, that stopping the laugh bubbling up from you is almost impossible. An action that makes his indignation all the funnier, causing you to laugh even louder.

“It’s good, I promise.”

He grimaces at that, “I’ll take your word for it.”

“Do you want some?”

Before Jaime can even respond, an aggressive clicking is sounding out. Looks like Khaji Da has already cast a vote for no.

It has you laughing all over again.

“Even Khaji agrees this is unnatural.”

“You come into my home, on the day of my eating a snack, and insult my choice of food?”

“Don’t misquote 'The Godfather' at me! Who does this?”

“Me!” You chime, letting yourself fall forward until you’re almost face to face with him. “But I'll let you off easy if I can have a kiss.”

Jaime really has to think about it, and you can see the gears turning before he resigns himself. “I'll kiss you, even if it tastes like lemons.”

“Forgiveness has a price, mi héroe.”

Jaime rolls his eyes at that before leaning forward and stealing a kiss, until he pulls back, betrayal and utter defeat on his face.

You’re cackling too hard, almost wheezing out your question: “what’s wrong?”

“It’s more sour than I thought.”

The sheer disapointment in his voice has you cooing at him, pushing his book aside – which has him only mildly complaining as you pull him towards you. “Oh, poor baby, let me make it up to you.”

“You’re laughing at my pain.”

“Hmm, only a bit, I’ll make it up to you.”

“Well, forgiveness has a price.” He turns your own words back on you with an amused grin, looking like the cat that ate the canary.

His smile is wiped clean when you pick your plate and half-eaten lemon back up.

“It does, and I'll pay you back in full,” you purr, “after I finish my snack.”

#dc x reader #nicole writes #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle #blue beetle III #Jaime Reyes

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