#so far today is not good day I might just dip out from front for a little bit - Judas | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

boorines · 7 months

Note

Can I request an imagine for Chan, being a soft boyfie taking care of his significant other when they come back home all stressed and overwhelmed with work ✨

hi anon, here u go!! hope u enjoy it <3

i assumed this was for a fem reader but if it isn’t please let me know!!

not proofread please ignore any mistakes <3

—

you toss your bag onto the chair as you walk into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed in exhaustion. you’re too tired to manage anything but a small smile when you feel the bed dip beside you.

“hi, you”, chan whispers, rubbing small circles on the back of your hand.

“hi”, you breathe out, so very grateful for his presence.

he gently coaxes you into a sitting position, pulling you into his side softly before dropping a kiss on your head. “long day?”, he questions. you nod against his shoulder and sigh.

“not great, either. two presentations due next week and a research essay due thursday”, it sounds like one long word the way it tumbles out of your mouth.

chan squeezes your shoulder softly, lightly tracing patterns on your arm. “a movie and bed, then? have you eaten?”, his brows furrow when you shake your head no. “dinner, movie and bed”, he amends with a decisive nod.

he leaves another kiss on your forehead before leaving the room and returning with a pack of makeup wipes. he stands in front of you and gently tugs you up onto your feet before gathering you into his arms. “let’s freshen you up, yeah?”, he whispers into your hair. you nod in gratitude and thank your stars for chan, for his presence and for his unwavering support.

you find yourself sat on the bathroom countertop with chan stood between your knees. he gently swipes at the makeup on your cheeks with damp wipes, humming at his work in approval before moving to your forehead. one of his hand gently holds your chin, tilting your face towards his. as he wipes across your forehead his eyes drop to yours, your soft gaze and warm smile making his knees weak. you feel his hand move from your chin to the side of your face, cupping your cheek with all the care in the world. chan strokes your skin once, twice, before leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. you smile into the kiss, squeezing his forearm as you feel him sigh into your mouth.

“you’re unbelievable”, he whispers, pulling away.

“i’ve done nothing but sit here. you’re unbelievable”, you respond with an incredulous shake of your head.

“just sitting here and yet driving me crazy”.

you blush at his words, cheeks dusted a soft pink as you swat at his arm. the laugh you draw from him is all you needed to hear today.

the bath that chan runs for you is steaming when you sink into the water and lukewarm when you finally decide to step out. you reach for the towel rack to dry off and your brows knit together when you find no towels hanging from the metal rod.

“channie?”, you call out from the bathroom, praying he’s not too far on the other side of the door. you’d walk out and fetch one yourself but the new rug by your shared bed would take the brunt of your bath.

“yes? you okay in there, love?”, you hear through the bathroom door.

“all good! could you please hand me a towel? there’s none in here”. you hear a muffled hum of acknowledgment before the door creaks open.

chan pokes his head into the bathroom to pass you a towel. it must be fresh out the dryer, you think, when you feel how warm it is in your hands. you look up at your boyfriend and find his cheeks blazing, eyes turned to the floor.

“chan?”, you question. “what is it?”

he shakes his head softly before looking up at you in wonder. you wrap yourself up in the towel before walking towards him, stepping into the bedroom as he moves away from the door to make room for you.

“you’re gorgeous”, you hear him whisper behind you and you turn around to face a chan that looks like he’s been struck by cupid.

“this isn’t new to you, love”, you chuckle, squeezing his hand.

“might as well be, seeing how i can never get used to it”, he replies. and now it’s your turn to blush.

he sits himself down on the edge of the bed, quietly watching you in awe as you change into an old pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts. he thinks his heart could burst. “dinner”, he announces softly after you’re ready, tugging you into the living room.

post dinner, you find yourself in bed with blankets wrapped around you, head resting on chan’s chest and an arm lazily slug over his torso. his arm is resting securely on your waist, soft kisses being placed atop your head.

“movie?”, he mumbles into your hair. he moves towards the laptop on the bedside table when he feels you nod against his chest.

he’s setting the laptop on his legs, finding a comfortable place to rest it when when he asks you what you’re in the mood for. he tinkers with the laptop a little more before asking again, ready to pick what you respond with. he looks down at your head when he doesn’t hear an answer.

your eyes are closed, face pressed against his chest while yours rises and falls rhythmically. his eyes soften and he melts, fond smile growing on his face. he carefully replaces the laptop before settling further into the pillows.

he gently moves your head higher up his chest, a precaution he takes just in case you wake up with a sore neck. with a whispered ‘goodnight’, he drops a soft kiss to your head.

taking care of each other is routine. because at the end of the day, he has you and you have him.

550 notes · View notes

k4marina · 5 months

Text

— Prologue || Heart of the Dragon

synopsis: a trip to Dragonstone goes a little wrong, or does it?

game of thrones x modern!reader

4.5k+ word count

sereis masterlist || next part

"Why are we doing this during the hottest day of the year, again?" Daeron mutters, using the brochure that was given to us at the beginning of the tour as a fan.

If I could, I would've replied, but the heat was also getting to me, draining away my energy. And, on top of the scorching heat, I'd just finished the last of my water. I pursed my lips together, the line wasn’t that long and I’m sure I can buy another overpriced water bottle after we visited the caves.

The group tour guide turned back to us, just as exhausted, and somewhat bashful. He said something, but I couldn't be bothered with it as I was too focused to not tip over from the heat. It was probably something like “only a few more minutes and we’ll be outta the heat, folks,” with an awkward smile or something.

The line to the caves under the castles was stupidly long, but it's no surprise. So much history was in those caves and so many mysteries had come full circle there. And, the deeper they dug, the more they uncovered the history of the Targaryens that lived there from when Aenar Targaryen moved his entire family to Dragonstone after his daughter, Daenys “the Dreamer” dreamed of the Doom of Valyria.

"Who's idea was it to come here for our research trip?" I didn't bother looking over at him, knowing that I'd be blinded by the sun that shone directly behind his big head.

“Shut up. Your voice is giving me a headache.” I quipped. “Besides, almost everything on this island is connected to the Targaryens. It might come useful when we have to write our research paper.”

The line moved up until our group was at the front of the line. A small group of students, along with Daeron and I, were on Dragonstone for our research projects. Some of the other students had decided to stay in Kings Landing or go to other parts of Westeros for their research.

Everyone was to spend a week in their respective areas and gather all the information they needed before heading back to Kings Landing to write and then later present their topics. Some chose to do it themselves whilst others, like us, decided to go with someone else.

Today was the first day of our stay on Dragonstone. Daeron and I had decided to check out the caves and the island's beaches before we would explore the labyrinth-like castle.

I rubbed the side of my head, feeling a headache approaching. My hand reached up to my necklace that rested on my chest. The chain was long enough for it to hang in the dip of my breast.

Not only did I come here for my project, but also for me. The necklace around my neck has been in my family for generations, but no one knows from where. It’s made entirely of Valyrian Steel, which was rare back in the day, and even rarer now.

As a child, I didn’t think much of it. It wasn’t until I grew older and more curious that I started asking questions. First to my family, but all I got was even more confusing answers that led me nowhere. Then I turned towards the internet, scouring for hours until I had found it.

On the official Dragonstone website, I found pictures of the caves under the castle and possibly under the entire island. On one of the walls was a crude hand drawing of my necklace. Two dragons around a sword with a ruby in the middle –though, the ruby was replaced with a red dot. Regardless, the cave painting matched.

The line moved up and Daeron gently pushed me up while I was lost in my thoughts. “You good?” He asks. I nod, “Yeah. The heat’s just a lot.” He gives an understanding look. Once the tour guide is given the green light, he begins to lead up to the entrance of the cave.

"Ready?" Daeron asks. I nodded and we begin walking. Once we entered the cave, my jaw was on the floor. I had seen pictures of the caves, but seeing it in real life was far more beautiful.

The deeper we got we could see the cave paintings done by the Children of the Forest which Daenerys and Jon had found. As the guide droned on about the cave paintings, I could feel my headache intensify. Why was it so hot in here?

The deeper and deeper we went into the caves, the worse it got. My chest started to feel heavy. I struggled to put one foot in front of the other. The back of my throat burned and I felt like throwing up, but I pushed forward.

My eyes raked the the cave walls, Where was it? Finally, I was able to see it. The markings were next to a few unknown ones. A sign with some information was hung up next to it. Despite my head pounding I was still able to read the bold words.

Unknown markings made by who researchers believe are the Targaryens. The paint used seemed to be as old as when Aenar Targaryen moved his family to Dragonstone.

By the time I finished reading, I could feel my head pounding so loudly in my ear. It felt like an ice pick was being hammered into the side of my head. I could hear muffled voices call out, but to who I didn’t know. The room started to spin and a ringing sound filled my ears.

A hand, most likely Derons, reached out and turned me around. I could see his mouth moving, but no words coming out. My chest felt like it was overheating while my head continued to throb. Everything turned blurry and then it went black.

When I woke up, I was still in the cave. The cold stone floor had helped with bringing my body temperature down. And, my head didn't hurt anymore. After getting up, I looked around the cave. It was darker, and quiet.

Where was everyone?

Carefully, I made my way out of the cave. It was harder to walk out of the cave and the spotlights that were on the walls weren’t on. Once I was outside I was met with the night sky.

All the tents and other buildings around the beach were gone, as if they'd never been there.

Okay, this is weird.

"Hello?" My voice came out horse like I hadn’t spoken in a long time. "Hello? Is anyone there? Daeron?"

My feet moved on their own and I tried to find someone, anyone. But there was no one. How could a populated area with tents and buildings disappear within hours?

Retracing my steps, I found the stairs that would lead me back to the Help Center that were posted around for lost tourists, but like the beach, there was nothing. Matter a fact, even the lamppost that were posted into the ground, the banners, the signs –everything was gone.

"What the actual fuck?" Panic creeped up and I could feel my heart thumping in my ears. "Gods, If this is some kinda sick fucking joke..."

At this point, I was running towards the castle. For what? I didn't know, but surely there had to be something there. The grand doors seemed to be closed so I tried to find another way in. I guess you could say I found something like a side door that took a little force to open.

The inside of the castle was grand. High walls, banners held high, candles and lamps lit all around. Truly, it was amazing. As I was gawking at the architecture I failed to notice unknown voices walking towards me.

“Halt!” Two unknown men dressed in what looked like armor cornered me, pointing their spears at me. “State your name! Who are you?”

I stuttered out my name, raising my hands up so they could see I wasn’t a threat. “I’m not going to do anything, I swear.”

The two men shared a look and a few hushed words before one of them walked over to me, grabbing my arm roughly and pulling me along.

“Ow!” I tried to pull back, but his grip was too strong. “What the fuck dude. I said I wasn’t a threat.”

“Khaleesi will decide if you are or are not a threat.” The man who wasn’t holding onto me said.

Khaleesi? What Khaleesi?

“Oh please don’t tell me I just walked into those real-life roleplaying things.” I groaned, earning side eyes from both of the men.

They led me down a series of hall ways, each one intricate as the other until we stood outside of a set of polished stone double doors. Another pair of men dressed just like the cosplayers that brought me here stood in front of the doors. Without having to say any words they opened the grand doors.

Slowly, I could see the inside being revealed.

There, on the elevated platform stood the Throne of Dragonstone, where all the Targaryen heirs of the Iron Throne sat as they took the title “Prince of Dragonstone.” A light push brought me back as I was dragged closer to the throne.

“Khaleesi,” the guard called out. Before I could ask who they were speaking to, an unknown voice answered.

“What is it?”

Light footsteps were heard from behind a wall and a woman emerged from behind it. Except it wasn’t just any woman. Even a child would know who she was. Everyone around the world knows her.

She was Daenerys Targaryen.

Mother of Dragons.

The Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea.

The Unburnt.

The Breaker of Chains.

I could feel time slow down as I watched her walk over to the throne and sit down. My blood turned cold as she sat in front of me.

No.

She’s dead.

This can’t be happening.

It’s not possible.

It’s not. I have better chances of reviving dragons than traveling back in time-

“What is this?” Daenerys eyed me, confused at my appearance and why I was even here before looking at the two men.

“We found this unknown woman wandering around the castle, Your Grace.”

She eyed me, as if wanting me to plead my case, but the words died in my throat. Why wouldn’t they when Daenerys fucking Targaryen was right in front of me. A million thoughts ran through my head, but I couldn’t rack my brain to find one answer.

Daenerys squinted before speaking again, this time directly towards me. “Who are you?” The High Valyrian rolled easily off of her tongue like a true Targaryen. Those three words held so much power and conviction, like a true Queen.

“Y/n Vellarys!…” I rushed to reply in Valyrian.

“You speak good Valyrian.” She praises, but it's quickly pushed away. “But that doesn’t explain what you are doing here.”

What should I do? I bit my bottom lip as nervousness filled my body.

Knowing that if I lie, I’ll be fileted, I took a deep breath before responding. “I don't know. I.. I,” I paused, not knowing if I should continue. If this was real then I only wanted her to know, “Can we be alone.. please?”

The two men besides me visibly tense up, but don’t speak up. Daenerys looks down at us, seemingly in thought before she nodded. The two men bow before turning around to leave. The double doors closed with a loud thud.

“We’re alone now, you may continue.”

I nervously swallowed. Here we go. “This might sound weird, but.. I don’t know how I got here. I.. I woke up in the caves under the castle… alone.”

Daenerys’ face stayed neutral as I relayed the information. She seemed to take some time to process what I had just said. “Do you think I’m a fool?”

I could feel my heart fall all the way down. Fuck.

“You woke up in the caves alone?” She repeats. “Not even a child would come up with such a stupid story like this.”

“N-n-no, Daener- I mean, Your Grace. I swear to the Gods that I’m telling the truth. I have no reason to lie to you. Especially when you could get rid of me with your dragons in a second.”

She seemed to mull over my words, as if weighing her options. “Alright, let's say you’re telling the truth. Your story still doesn’t make sense. How do you just “wake up” in a cave?”

Now or never, I guess.

“Actually,” I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. “I’m not from here. I come from-” The future. Fucking hell, how cliché. “-I come from a different… time.”

Daenerys squinted and I could see the clogs in her brain moving. “You mean you’re from the future?”

Jeez. Ripped the bandage right off.

“Well –uh, yes,” I say. “I was touring the caves and then I –I fell unconscious or something, I still don’t know, I just know that when I woke up I ended up here.”

I let out a frustrated sigh. What if this was just a dream and that all of this is just my imagination running wild.

“That necklace.”

Huh? What is she talking about?

I looked up, confused. “What?”

She pointed towards my chest. I looked down and I could see my necklace was out. “What about it?” I asked.

“Where did you get it?”

“It’s mine.” I replied. “It’s been in my family for generations. Why?”

Now it was Daenerys’ turn to look a little nervous.

“I’ve seen it in my dream.”

“Your dream? Like, one of those Dragon Dreams?” I ask. She gives a nod, “While we were sailing to Dragonstone I had a dream of a woman with silver hair and that necklace. Because I couldn’t see her face, I thought it was me. I’ve turned the treasury over looking for them; however, it seems that I dreamt of you.”

Ho-ly Fuck. Daenerys’ dreamt about me. What the hell. I’m about to throw up.

“What?” Now it was my time to be skeptical of what was being said. “You dreamt about me and my necklace?”

She nodded. “It seems odd, but a Dragon Dream has never been wrong.”

“Ture, but that still leaves a lot of blanks.” My hand subconsciously went up to hold my necklace while I tried to think back.

The deeper I walked into the cave the more my head started to hurt, but that was most likely because of dehydration… probably. But then there was a burning feeling on my chest when I looked at the symbol on the wall that matched my necklace and the burning feeling got even more intense and it felt like it was about to burn my skin-

“Fuck.” I groaned, letting go of the necklace. The outburst made Daenerys frown, “Are you alright?”

I looked down at my hands and at my necklace before looking into her eyes. “I think my necklace tried to burn me, like last time.”

“Last time?” She frowned. “How can a necklace burn someone?”

“I don’t know. It happened before I passed out in the cave.” I let out a sigh. “Gods, what is going on.”

“It seems that this was the God's doing,” Daenerys says, as if it was a fact. “They’ve brought you here.”

“The Gods?” I repeat. Sure, in some sense they did bring me here. “But why?”

“That may be something for you to find out.” Daenerys stood from the throne, walking down the steps until she was right in front of me. “I was lost once, but then the Gods gifted me my children to show me my true purpose.”

“The Iron Throne.” I thought back to my history classes where I learned that for the fight for the Iron Throne, Daenerys lost her life as she fell into what historians said was “Targaryen Madness,” but I’ve always felt that there’s more to it.

“It’s late, I’ll have the servants bring you to a spare room for you to rest in for the night.” As if on cue, the guards from before stepped up to us. “We can talk further tomorrow morning.”

Daenerys turned to leave from where she came from. The guards bowed as she left. Once she was gone they brought me to a spare room somewhere in the castle, this time without having to pull me around.

The hallways were nearly empty, meaning there weren’t a lot of people living here or servants working in the castle. The most I’d seen was guards posted around. Once we were in front of two thick double doors the guards stepped back waiting for me to open them.

It took a little force to open the door, but once I was inside, my jaw was on the floor. Despite everything being made of stone, the walls were covered in rich tapestry. There was a giant bed with lavish looking furs laid atop the bed and maroon bed sheets.

Behind me, a servant walked in with a few sets of clothes and laid them on the bed. “We’ve prepared you some clothes,” she said. “Would you like to change now or take a bath?”

As if on cue, I could feel how dirty I was since I was practically on the cave floors for Gods knows how long.

“A bath would be fine, thank you,” I replied. It honestly felt weird watching servants work. Not that it was bad, just the fact that in the modern day you don’t have them. Sure maybe someone who cleans your home or makes you food, but servants?

Once they had pulled out the massive tub and manually poured in the hot water they led me to the tub. One of their hands went up to my shirt's edge and the other to my pants.

“W-wait!” They all looked at me confused.

“Is everything alright, My Lady?” One of the servants asked.

No it’s not. You’re taking my clothes off. And sure, it’s your job to do practically everything for a highborn, but that ain’t me.

“Uh, there’s no need for… all of this. I can do it myself.”

“Are you sure?” Another girl asked. “It’s our duty to serve you.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure.” I replied awkwardly. “Just not really used to all of… this. Um, anyways I can take it from here. You guys can go…”

I internally cringed at my words. Gods, I sounded like an idiot, but could you blame me?

The girls reluctantly agreed, leaving me alone in the room. Once they were gone I let out a sigh and began to undress myself. The water was hot, but it was fine since I practically liked showering in lava every morning.

Settling into the tub I finally relaxed. This entire thing was just so… bizarre. At first, I thought it was some sort of dream, but that searing pain I felt wasn’t something I could just imagine.

My necklace burned me.

And it burned me when I first saw the markings on the cave walls. I looked down at my chest and hand, but saw nothing.

Okay, weird.

That aside, why was I even brought here? Why me? What do I have that made me so special that I had to be flung into this era of time?

“Think, y/n, think,” I muttered to myself. The dream. Daenerys’ dream about the necklace. But wait, no history books said anything about her having a dragon dream. Could this maybe be connected?

For the next hour, I mulled over my options while I soaked in the tub that had turned lukewarm. Having enough, I got up and grabbed the towels that the servants had thankfully set close for me.

The clothes that they had laid out for me were a bunch of nightgowns. Thankfully, they were my size. I decided to wear a simple white nightgown.

Laying under the mountain of covers and blankets, I finally let myself completely relax, falling asleep. Hopefully tomorrow’s discussions can help this situation get better or at least easier.

I woke up to the sun glaring down into my face. Groaning, I turned to my side, hoping to get some more sleep. But the damage was done.

I could hear light shuffling in the room and things being moved around. When I opened my eyes, I was nearly flash-banged. All the windows (that are floor to ceiling length) were opened and the curtains were drawn back.

A few servants from last night and a few new faces worked around the room. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes, catching the attention of one of the girls.

“Good morning, My Lady. Did you sleep well?”

“Morning,” my voice came out a little low and rough. “What’s going on?”

“We’re getting you ready for the day,” the girl replies, matter of factly. “You will be having your morning meal with the Queen. We’ve already drawn you a fresh new bath and arranged a new set of clothes.”

I looked at where the tub was last night, nothing that was gone, along with my clothes.

“Where are my clothes?” I asked.

“We’ve sent them to get washed,” the servant replied. “My Lady, if i may…”

I nodded for her to go on. “We’ve never seen such clothes like yours before. They remind us of what the men wear however, yours are a bit more.. different.”

“Oh, that. They’re just something that I made.” I lied. Thinking back to last night, I’m confused I didn’t get as many weird looks as I should have wearing my jeans and shirt. It's not really the typical Westerosi fashion for this time.

“The bath is ready.” Another girl says.

Reluctantly, I got out of bed, following them to another room adjacent to this one. The room was a massive bathroom that could function as a bathhouse.

There was a massive tub nestled into the floor. The windows were also huge but a little higher up, letting in some natural light. I could tell the water was hot just by how much it was steaming.

Carefully, the servants began to undress me. They led me into the water and began adding what I can only assume are oils and salts. Truthfully, it felt like I was at some fancy spa with how they washed my body and hair.

Once that was done, they helped me into a beautiful white dress with a dark teal and gold design. I felt like a model wearing such a beautiful dress. I let my hair down, not wanting it in any style (or knowing any styles of this period).

A servant walked me to the dining room where Daenerys was waiting for me. She wore a light blue dress with her hair braided and her three headed dragon pin.

“Good Morning,” she greeted.

“Morning uh, Your grace.” I replied. “Sorry, I’ve never called anyone “your grace” before.”

She brushed it off, motioning for me to take a seat next to her at the table where the food was already prepared.

“How did you sleep?” She asks, beginning to eat.

“Fine, surprisingly.” I reached down to grab a fork for my food. “How about you?”

Was I really making small talk with Daenerys Targaryen?

“Mine as well,” she smiled. “I was hoping we could talk a little before I had to go meet my small council.”

“Okay, what did you want to talk about?” I wanted to smack myself. Every time I spoke it was full of nerves and anxiety.

“Let’s start with you. Your name and where you’re from.” Daenerys says confidently. “Judging by your looks, you’re of Valyrian descent.” She says, eyeing my silver hair.

“Yes,” I nodded. “My family moved from Volantis to the Eyrie. My family is known to be of the Old Blood in Volantis.”

“The Old Blood?” Daenerys says, surprised.

The Old Blood are a group of people in Volantis that have proven to be the last remaining families of Valyria. They live in a perched area of the city that only they can walk. All the families in that area still continue their Valyrian traditions and practices, just minus the dragons.

I nodded, “My father is the youngest of four sons, so he thought ‘why not move to westeros and start something there?’ knowing that he wouldn’t have to really carry on the family name.”

“And your family name is Vellarys?” She recalled from last night.

“Yes. We’re known for our jewelry making in Volantis. That’s why my father moved to Westeros, to open a shop there without having to take over the business and stress like his older brother.

“As for myself, I have two older brothers. One is working to be a doctor,” Daenerys frowned at that, confused, “uh, it’s like a Maester. The other is helping my father run the shop.”

“And what about yourself?”

“I’m in school. I go to the University of Kings Landing.”

“The.. University of… Kings Landing?”

“Well, after the monarchy was sorta let go, they turned certain parts of the Red Keep and other castles into Universites -places to go for higher studies, like the.. Citadel for example.”

Daenerys nods, understanding some of it.

“I study the era of The Game of Thrones as well as Targaryen History.”

“The Game of Thrones?” She repeats. “What is that?”

“It’s, uh, what we call this time period. It ranged from the death of King Robert to,” the death of Daenerys Targaryen, “to now, and a little later. We look into how the events after Robert’s death played out and how people fought for the Iron Throne.”

“Like a game.” She says.

I nodded. “Yes, like a game. There’s this quote that Cersie Lannister said to Ned Stark that summed it up, “When you play the game of thrones, You win or you die,”.”

“I see,” Daenerys looks down at her plate in thought. “And what about me?”

Oh fuck.

“What about you?” I say, acting innocent.

“What happened to me?”

I purse my lips together. Should I say it? I mean, it’s a good segway to what I want to really say… if this part goes well.

“You…” I nervously swallowed. “You die… before you could even claim the throne.”

The fork in her hand hits the ceramic plate with a loud clunk.

“What?”

Nervously, I looked into her. “You were killed… after you burned Kings Landing to ashes.”

She frowned. “You're lying. I would never do such a thing. Me? Burning down Kings Landing?

And the Red Keep, but I’ll keep that to myself.

“I’m not lying, Daenerys. After you died, Drogon picked you up and flew you away. We still haven’t found your or his body.”

Daenerys' hands started to shake at the information I had just thrown at her. Carefully, I placed mine over hers.

“Daenerys,” I said softly. “Breath. You’re fine, nothing has happened so far.”

Slowly, I could feel her hands stop shaking and her breathing seemed to steady.

“What do you mean so far?”

I gave her hand an encouraging squeeze although, I can’t tell if it was for me or her.

“Meaning, I can help you.”

She looks at me, puzzled.

“Daenerys, I can help you take the Iron Throne.”

okayyyy so it's finally here after many rewrites. let me know if you guys liked the first person POV. its my first time writing it like this, typically i do second POV. more to come in later chapters. also, i will be changing a few things, nothing major. one personal head cannon that i have is that jon isn't really named aegon, but jaehaerys. makes a lil more sense in my brain. also, i'll maybe be using some info from the books. and if you guys have any suggestions with y/n's character and other stuff please feel free to let me know. don't worry there will be more story and character development in the coming chapters.

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aphroditeslover11 · 6 months

Note

Hi what do you think about a Neil Lewis with a actress reader? Like they met before and he has already a crush on her and then he watch movie and see her ?

Another tought (not q request just something in my head) so I'm from Göttingen, an we have here q tradition if someone has his PhD they have to kiss the Statue of the goose Maid ( "Gänseliesel") he is not common with this tradition and so when reader ask him when he is planning do the kiss he assumed she wanna that he kiss her

I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking of. I’m not at my best at the moment so I’m sorry if there are any glaring errors. I hadn’t written for Neil before, but he’s actually very fun! Thanks for your request. Also, that is a fabulous tradition, it might get slotted into one of my other Oppie requests, I’m not sure yet though as it’s in the idea phase at the moment.

A Surprise Encounter

A/N: the classic films mentioned are all free on BBC iPlayer, go and give them a watch! I also have no idea where the store is, so I made it up.

Neil was absolutely beside himself when the invite arrived in the post. A new film that he couldn’t wait to see was premiering soon, it was low budget but contained a few big names who had decided that they wanted to promote the more independent side of the industry. He had been asked to attend an event aiming to promote smaller video shops like his rather than the huge, commercial ones that were taking over. When he read that you and the director alone were going to be on the panel he felt like he had never been luckier, finally a chance to meet his favourite actress in the flesh. Although he did admire your talents, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he also found you wildly attractive.

The next few weeks were spent planning everything. He rewatched a few of your films so that he could ask some decent questions of you at the press event and reading every article that he could on the making of your new one, a biopic of Julie d’Aubigny. He went out and bought a new suit for the occasion, had his hair cut. As far as he was concerned, there were going to be no disasters, not when he was going to meet one of his idols.

The day of the event had finally come. All of the invitees, including Neil, had been piled into an auditorium where they had been given an early viewing of the film, then being moved into a press room with rows of chairs set out in front of a platform. He was happy with his seat, about half way back in the crowd, not too conspicuous but with a good view of the stage. The previous hubbub died down as soon as the panel made their way up, the director taking his place, yet Neil’s eyes were fixed on you. Your hair was down and curly, framing your face, and that smile that everyone always talked about. You were wearing black heels a red dress that dipped down just enough to give a small view of your cleavage. He was transfixed.

Questions started being asked, the general types of how you had enjoyed working with the rest of the cast and what you had taken away from playing your character, some conversations were had about wanting to make sure that the smaller side of the film and cinema industry wasn’t dwarfed in the future. For some reason, all of the eyes in the room suddenly focused on Neil, it was only then that he realised that he had drifted off, his arm leaned on the armrest of his chair in such a way that you had thought he was asking a question.

“Uh, the gentleman in the blue suit there, do you have a question?” The sentence was coming from you, quickly drawing him out of his reverie.

“Um.. yes,” he never was much good at thinking on his feet. “I know that you’re promoting this film today, but do you feel as if classic cinema has been forgotten. My shop specialises in older, more hard to find movies and… well, yeah,” he trailed off. He was like a deer in the headlights, speaking as if he was full of terror. A few people around him were scoffing and hiding their laughter. Great, he had embarrassed himself in front of you.

“Actually, I do think that we’ve forgotten about classic cinema. Not only the thrillers and comedies, but for me the least talked about are the romance films. I grew up on Astaire and Rogers musicals, I know some people don’t like them and find them a bit politically incorrect know, but they still have a special place in my heart. If you think about their influence on modern cinema, we wouldn’t have ‘Sleepless In Seattle’ if it hadn’t been for a 1939 film ‘Love Affair”. What was your name?” Why the hell did you want to know who he was?

“Neil Lewis.”

“And where’s your shop?”

“California, its called Gumshoe Video.”

“I’ll pop in next time I’m in town, maybe you could give me some recommendations.” And that was the end of that conversation.

About three weeks later everything had returned to normal. Neil was back to running the store and the gang were still practically living there. It was a completely normal day when Lucien, who had been manning the counter, came around to the back to find him.

“Neil, you might want to come inside, there’s a customer asking for you.”

“Can’t you handle it?” He just wanted a bit of time to himself, making is response more huffy than he had intended.

“Trust me, you want to come and see this.”

He followed Lucien back into the shop, only to be caught in shock as he saw you standing there in front of him, dressed a lot more casually than the last time he saw you, but still with your hair down in its beautiful curls. He never thought that you would actually make true on what you had said, but here you were.

“Is there anything that I can help you with Miss y/l/n?” “I came by to see if you had any suggestions for me, you know, classic films like you said you specialised in.” You actually seemed a bit nervous, though he had no idea why. “And please, call me y/n.”

“Right, y/n,” it just felt so right when he said it. “What kind of thing are you looking for, any genres in mind?”

“I always love a romance movie, the press don’t know yet but I left my boyfriend last month after he cheated on me. I’m down here to get away from it all, so a romance to take my mind off everything would be good, yeah.” He could see the sadness behind your eyes as you explained.

“He must have been an idiot then,” he said, immediately regretting it and walking past the stunned Lucien towards the romance section, beckoning for you to follow.

“So, you said that you liked Astaire and Rogers, but have you ever seen ‘The Sky’s The Limit’?”

“I don’t think I have, no.” He reached out for the dvd, showing you the front of the case.

“It’s Fred Astaire and Joan Leslie, came out in 1943. A musical about a fighter pilot who falls in love with a girl who wants to make it as a journalist, sounds like the sort of thing you might be looking for.”

“I think I’ll take that then, sounds perfect.” Something lit up inside him, you were smiling and it was because of something that he had done.

“Right, I’ll go and sort out a membership card so that you can rent it then, do you have any ID on you. Driver’s licence or something?” You followed him over to the till, rooting around in your bag to find what he had asked for. He busied himself, quickly handing over the card and the movie.

“What do I owe you?” you asked, reaching for your purse.

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Are you sure, because…”

“Yeah, in return for having me at that panel a few weeks back. It was amazing.” “Well, in that case can I pay you back in another way?”

“What do you mean?”

“Maybe we could watch the film together?”

“That sounds like a fair means of payment, I think I’ll accept.” You slipped him your number, telling him to call when he was free before walking out of the store, Neil wondering what the fuck had just happened.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #fanfic #requests #classic films

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junnieverse · 8 months

Text

9:37 am ➳ S. HANBIN

➙ synopsis: mornings with your boyfriend

Hanbin

pairings: sung hanbin x gn!reader

genre: teeth rotting fluff

word count: 0.7k

warnings: not proofread so there might be typos. prepare to melt because this was too cute.

a/n: hello my angels! here's a little something new for you guys to read, my writing is a little rusty since it's been awhile but it feels great to get back at it after so long. I didn't know whether to make this a headcannon or timestamp and in the end it was the latter. :)

You're soon woken up feeling the light from the morning sun peeping through the window introducing yet another sunny summer day and you couldn't help to think what better way to spend it than with with your boyfriend Hanbin.

You both had been working tirelessly the entire week and the night before you dedicated the evening to binge watching your favourite shows and movies while snuggled up to each other.

Twisting yourself to turn to the other side of the bed which your boyfriend usually occupies, you're met with an empty bedside with nothing but his pillow and scrunched up sheets.

Looking around the room in confusion, you're left worried not knowing where Hanbin could be considering as far as you were concerned, he wouldn't be working today and even if he was going to go somewhere without saying anything, he would've left you a message or stuck a note on the pillow before leaving.

You're soon pulled out of your thoughts as a pan hitting against another pot is heard and Hanbin's cooking playlist is playing.

Quickly putting on a hoodie, you make your way to the kitchen as the relaxing music fills your ears and the light scent of coffee and bacon hits your nose.

Standing by the door, you can't help but admire Hanbin's figure as his back faces you, too focused on cooking to have noticed your arrival and it's moments like this where you thank the universe for such a perfect boyfriend.

Making your way up to him, you gently wrap your arms around his waist, feeling him slightly jump in suprise but he soon lets out his cute laugh enjoying your affection as you engulf him in a back hug.

"Well good morning to you my love," he says glancing behind at you as he continues to cook with you holding onto him.

"Good morning," you mumble tiredly as you shut your eyes enjoying just staying close to your boyfriend.

"Breakfast is almost ready so you can go take a seat by the island and your boyfriend will be serving you soon," he soon responds adding the pancakes to the plate.

You then let go of his figure but just as you do, Hanbin turns around to face you engulfing you in another tight hug before he places a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You look pretty," he compliments showing his whisker smile.

Looking at him, you immediately break eye contact feeling shy at his sudden compliment.

No matter how long you've been dating Hanbin, he always found a way to bring back the butterflies in your stomach and make you blush and smile like a madman.

Taking a seat by the island bar stool, you continue to silently admire your boyfriend who was making breakfast.

Before you knew it, he was in front of you with a cup of coffee that not only smelt like heaven but you knew it tasted just as amazing.

His mom owning a cafe and him having worked part time there as a barista and earning his license to be one meant Hanbin knew alot about how to make a good beverage and he knew exactly how to make you a good drink with a cutely designed heart in the foam.

Placing the food down on the counter, Hanbin quickly grabs the necessary utensils making sure to cut a peace of the pancake he made, dipping it in some syrup and brings it to your mouth.

At this gesture you lean in closer to try the food as it melts on your palette leaving you feeling a sense of peace.

"This is amazing," you say and Hanbin can't help but smile as you compliment his food and he feels proud for being able to satisfy your taste buds.

Taking a seat beside you, Hanbin begins to eat his own food as he tells you about his members crazy antics from the day before when he found Gyuvin and Yujin in a box.

Knowing the two boys, you knew it was better not to ask about that madness.

At some point everything else he said became a blur as you simply took the time to admire how the sun coming through the kitchen window was hitting his skin making him glow especially more and his laughter was music to your ears.

Everything about this moment was perfect, nothing felt more special than being able to spend a relaxing morning with breakfast being served to you and the great company of your boyfriend Hanbin.

Those were your favourite mornings.

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pedropascallme · 5 months

Note

im just so obsessed with dad pedro rn😓😓😓

AN: Fuck it girl dad Pedro. This genuinely made me weak in the knees. (I'm PMSing and the baby fever is insane and ???? do I need any excuses really?? For dad!Pedro??)

“Papa, hold your hands like this.” Your daughter barked orders at her father, pulling him down to her level and molding his hands into a position she could work with.

Pedro sat crisscross on the floor, your daughter across from him rummaging through a giant bag of nail polish and small stickers. It hadn't taken much convincing to get Pedro to sit for her, let her use him as a canvas, but she was far too stubborn to ever throw away any of the dry, crusty bottles of polish in the deep bag.

“What color, mija?” Pedro hummed and watched her continue to toss the small bottles over the carpet, looking for the ideal shade. She let out a triumphant huff before pulling out a bottle of purple sparkly nail polish, placing it on the floor in front of her father as if asking for approval.

“This is the one we’re using.” She nodded, before quickly reaching her small hand back out for the bottle, satisfied with Pedro’s smile at her as a form of assent.

When you had found out you were pregnant, Pedro didn’t let you do a thing on your own. He went to every doctor’s appointment with you, did all the chores you had planned for yourself—he cancelled every audition, every screentest, just to stay home with you, to rub your feet at the end of your long day of doing nothing. (“You aren’t doing nothing,” he had fussed every time you said it, “You’re growing a little baby! Inside of you!”) Pedro was gentle with you, and with her, and kind, and ever so patient; always willing to model for a fashion show, always willing to watch her school choir performances, always thrilled at the prospect of having breakfast for dinner with her. It was as if he knew from the moment you announced your pregnancy that she would be a daddy’s girl, and the love he had for you multiplied to include her immediately.

Watching them now, from the couch, going back and forth about what animals they might see at the zoo later today, your daughter occasionally reprimanding Pedro for moving, him turning to smile at you where you sat on the sofa, eyes glistening with pride at the tiny person the two of you had created, your heart swelled.

He was such a good husband. Such a good father.

“Let them dry now, papa.” Your daughter stood up, brushing her hands on her capris as if she had just finished a long day of manual labor. “Mama,” she made her way to you, both hands planted on your knees leaning into you before collapsing onto her knees and wrapping her hands around your legs, head buried in your lap, “look at what I did to papa’s nails!” She squealed and her giggle was muffled by the denim of your jeans.

“Beautiful, sweetheart. You did such a good job!” You reached down to lift her up, letting her clamber into your lap, “He’s never looked better.”

“Hey!” Pedro laughed, spreading himself out on the floor, laying his head next to the bag of nail polish.

She leaned in then to whisper to you, her small voice somehow carrying more loudly when she attempted to be sly; “Can I use your makeup to make papa pretty?” Pedro smiled up at you, anticipating your answer.

“Yes,” you quasi-whispered back, “but only the makeup in the top drawer.” It was all she needed to hear, practically leaping off of your lap and bounding to the main bedroom to root through your drawers.

“You can borrow my nail polish remover, if you’d like.” You watched Pedro get up, wiping the palms of his hands on his knees before moving to enfold you in his arms where you sat on the couch.

That’s where she got it.

“No way,” he peppered your face with kisses before dipping down to capture your lips with his own, smiling into the kiss in a show of how pleased he was with you, with your daughter, with his nails. “Want everybody at the zoo to see my new look, querida.”

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #hehe send me asks

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iluvfr3aks · 1 year

Text

it's a public bathhouse, isn't it?

a fic in which you and michael kaiser share the same bathing space.

together.

alone.

what might happen?

reader x michael kaiser bluelock ; sex, gender, alignment, and pronouns unspecified but they're in an open bath together ; reader has backstory with kaiser and doesn't like him (or at least thats what they believe) ; not as sensual as you might think ; dw bout it

it was far into the evening as you stepped foot into the building. you'd heard there was an open bath nearby, and it had good reviews and ratings online, so you decided to check it out.

after paying the lady in the front a fee, she gave you your locker key, and you were directed to take a long walk down the hall to the locker room.

thankfully, it was quite a straightforward business, and these interactions took not much time. you didn't plan on spending much of the day here. not today at least.

as you made it to the lockers, you found your locker, and started to undress and place your things inside of it. sounds of water splashing around could be heard from the next door, that was probably where the baths were, and probably where another person already was.

there weren't many people you knew around here, so it was probably a random.

at least, that was what you assumed until you opened the door and recognized immediately the unusual hairstyle of the man, whose body was half submerged in the water.

"michael kaiser?" you called out in a surprise, and he turned to look at you with discerning eyes. you could never forget the man whom you once were so close to. if it were someone even like kaiser, you don't think anyone would forget them.

"who do we have here? name?" he spoke with a light tone, calling out your name casually, as if you were still good friends. as if, you sneered and didn't waste time just standing and gawking at him, turning to walk to the showering station.

"ignoring me? well, that's okay too!" kaiser laughed, fully turning around and resting his arms on the cold tiles he was in-front of. "how have you been? missed me any bit? i know i missed you."

you nearly couldn't control your temper when he spoke in such a tone, saying such sickly sweet words, it made your stomach twist, and not in a good way.

"stop talking to me like we're close." you managed to hold back every curse that might've slipped its way into your sentence, grabbing the shower head and pouring freezing cold water over yourself.

but, maybe it was for the better, as it clearly pulled your mind from hating on kaiser to the chilling water that suddenly ran down your body.

kaiser looked at your back and rested his chin on his hand, "are we not close? did you forget all about us in the short time we've been separated already?" he spoke with a hint of ridicule in his voice, clearly not taking it seriously. taking you seriously.

in the end, you thought it was better to just not respond to him, as you put the shower head back on it's stand. you stood up and walked to a part of the bath that was a good distance away from kaiser, dipping in.

the water burned a bit at first, your body's response to the sudden change in temperature, but soon, the feeling quelled and you got into the bath without a problem. it was nice to be in a hot bath once in a while.

well, this wouldn't be the nicest experience you could have in a hot bath though.

from the corner of your eye, you saw kaiser push himself out of the water and start walking your way. you closed your eyes and didn't even hope on the chance that he would simply pass by. you knew he was making his way over to you.

the sound of water rustling right beside you incited your cold reaction, "fuck off." and kaiser's ignorant bliss, "i know you missed me." you opened your eyes and turned your head, facing kaiser's own beautiful face.

"who are you again?" you played dumb and didn't exactly flash the nicest smile at him. "are we acting like this now? i see! my name is michael kaiser, and your-beautiful-self's name is?" kaiser extended an arm to you.

even if you didn't admit it openly, you couldn't deny his pure allure.

"name." you chose to ignore his hand, and turned your face away, closing your eyes again. kaiser frowned and hummed, "you're not gonna confess to me how much you missed me? i can't believe it!" he said without a hint of shame.

how could he say stuff like that without a second thought? you thought viciously, especially after what happened between you both, it was baffling.

"who would miss you?" you responded sourly, still not looking at him, or at anything in general.

"well, if you ask me! i do know my alexis would die of heartache if he was separated from me for even a day."

you open your eyes and fake a gag, spiting out a single word, "gross."

"to you. i find it quite endearing!" he chooses to ignore your action, still speaking like it was a laughing and giggling mood.

"you're sick." you almost want to go back to the lockers and go home, kaiser pauses in his retorts and thinks. quite unlike him, you notice the silence.

"i think i'm still sick for you, doll." he says while leaning a bit closer to you.

you scoot away from him, perhaps the bath was making your face a bit redder, you've been in here for a while now, "get out of here." or you just wouldn't admit that you were blushing at kaiser's behavior and words.

he laughs at your attempt to make distance, swimming over and wrapping his arm around you before asking.

"it's a public bathhouse, isn't it?"

#michael kaiser #michael kaiser x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock #x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk #kaiseraddict

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scribbling-dragon · 1 year

Text

Watcher’s Nest Café

Chapter 4

summary:

“Morning sunshine!”

“Martyn,” he turns to face the man. The man that has, unfortunately, become a fixture at the café over the past few weeks. He’s even taken up residence along the front bar when Scott is working. Which is always. Martyn’s greeting catches up with him a moment later, brain lagging several seconds behind their conversation. “Sunshine?”

(ao3 link)

(masterpost)

(2,961 words)

The sun is bright and it’s hurting his already aching eyes. It’s enough to give him a headache on the best of days, and today is incredibly far from the best of days. Because the café is busy. Which isn't unusual in and of itself, it’s always busy, people coming and going, sitting or leaving; but it’s extra busy today, and has been extra busy for the last week.

It happens every year, every single time, and yet, without fail, he sometimes forgets that it’s approaching. That the time until the end of the year is ticking down, with the months getting colder and the days getting shorter in the lead up to the winter holidays. And in the lead up to many, many papers needing to be turned in. And the café has free wi-fi, as long as you buy something.

Thus, Scott is stuck making the cheapest drink they have, over and over, and watching people cram themselves into booths with their friends- they're always far too overconfident in being able to fit five people, plus any study materials or laptops or notes or binders they've brought with them, into a tiny booth that he’s watched struggle to take three people. It’s always funny to watch them elbow each other, at least, but he’d rather they weren't here at all.

His leg aches more during these periods as well, with both the cold weather and the increased customers taking a toll on him. He refuses to acknowledge the lack of sleep and how that’s probably affecting it too- he’s survived on less sleep and done better than this.

“Morning sunshine!”

He hopes Martyn can hear the derision he injects into that single word. He’s been told it’s a talent, his ability to make someone want to shrivel up and die as soon as he spares them a glance and a few choice words. Martyn is, apparently, immune to this as he simply throws his bag onto the front bar with a dangerous sounding clunk and leans across the counter, towards him.

“But you're always so pleased to see me?” Martyn says, grinning, “And you have that winning smile, well, you're practically beaming!”

“Flattery is not a good look on you.” The till beeps as he punches several buttons, Martyn’s order as predictable as ever. “Neither is lying.”

Martyn hums in response, noncommittal, and dips his head a few times as though agreeing. He remains leaned up against the counter, even as Scott steps away to make his drink. He should be thankful that most of their actual customers have been chased off by the sudden influx of sleep-deprived and stressed students, because otherwise he would be forced to tell Martyn to shove off and wait somewhere else.

As it is, he doesn't mind Martyn waiting there. Even if the intensity with which he watches Scott make his drink is more than a little unsettling.

“Worried I might poison it?” He asks, wiping a cloth over the steam wand.

“Oh, certainly,” Martyn’s still grinning when he turns around, which would be irritating if it didn't make him look so attractive. There is a god out there, somewhere, that gets a kick out of making incredibly attractive yet utterly annoying men, he just knows it. And as soon as he finds out which god it is, he’s going to kill them. “Timmy’s told me plenty of stories.”

“Has he?” He sets the drink down in front of Martyn, though he doesn't take it immediately and retreat to his seat. He remains leaned over the counter, forearms braced against it as he grins up at Scott.

“Oh, yes,” Martyn nods sagely, as though he’s imparting some amazing wisdom. “He’s told me that it is an incredibly bad idea to piss off the man making your drinks, no matter how curious you are about him.”

“Oh really?”

Scott hadn't missed the numerous conversations Jimmy has had with Martyn- a lot of them had been through odd facial expressions alone, but he is nothing if not skilled in the art of weird expressions, so he got the main gist of it. Especially when Martyn would sit and sulk at his laptop, not typing, whenever Jimmy won their silent arguments.

“Mhm, mhm,” Martyn continues to nod, reaching forward to curl his hands around his mug. “And I, for once, trust in his judgement.”

“He’ll be thrilled when I tell him.”

Martyn clears his throat, almost awkwardly, eyes dancing away from him. “I, uh, yeah. I am sorry for what I asked about the other day- I'm not saying that I'm not still curious, because lying to you is probably a bad idea,” it is, but Scott won't tell him that. “And I think you're quite nice really, even if your favourite hobby seems to be snapping at rude customers and then stealing a couple pounds from their pockets.”

“I didn't know you were watching me so closely,” Scott can work with this. Oh, he can absolutely work with this. He grins, leaning a little closer. “One would almost think you liked me, Martyn, hm? Focusing on me rather than your rather important essay that you need to have finished by the end of this week.”

“It’s drafted, it’s fine,” Martyn waves it off, though Scott doesn't miss the momentary panic that crosses his face at the mention of his essay. “Besides, I was more than a little worried about you actually poisoning me, gods know what you actually have under that counter- Timmy says it’s a bunch of tea, but I trust him as far as I can throw him sometimes.”

“I’d better make you a new drink, then.” Scott sighs, going to pull the coffee away from Martyn.

“I- huh?” Martyn jerks his hands back from the mug as though he’s been scalded, eyes wide and lips slightly parted as he looks between Scott and his mug then back again. “What do you mean?” He lowers his voice to a hiss, leaning closer, as though someone might overhear.

Scott is almost disappointed that Cleo isn't here today, but they’d cited something about not being able to focus with the amount of chattering in the café currently, and Pix had agreed with her. Meaning he was being abandoned for the foreseeable future.

“Well, I was going to just let you drink that, but then you apologised and I’ll feel bad if you start frothing at the mouth now.” He frowns at Martyn, then grins as he notices the man’s eyes drop to his lips, linger for a little too long to be just friendly, then look back up to his eyes.

“You actually poisoned it?” Oh, man, now he wishes he’d recorded this. Just so he could replay how Martyn’s voice squeaked.

“Of course not,” he scoffs, pushing the mug back towards Martyn. “That’d be a quick way to lose my job.”

“And stealing from customers isn't?”

“Not if they don't catch me,” Martyn seems more than a little reluctant to take the coffee now, eyeing it warily as though it might jump out of the mug and bite him. “Besides, only customers that are never going to come back leave with their pockets a little lighter.”

“There’s something wrong with you,” Martyn says, but he has a teasing glint in his eyes as he finally takes the mug and retreats to his seat.

“G’morning.”

“Hey G,” he looks up, takes in his friend’s appearance. “Rough night?”

“Rough week.” Grian doesn't even bother to order anything- Scott knows his order off by heart by now and can just ring him up before he leaves. Technically not something he’s meant to do, but Grian also knows that Scott will hunt him for sport if he leaves without paying. “Do you know how terrible I feel right now?”

“I can probably guess.” Scott is trying his very best not to judge, but Grian is wearing his sweater inside out and back to front, and it also looks like it hasn't been taken off in several days, rumpled and with a small stain on the front. “You look like you just rolled out of a bin.”

“Thanks.” Grian snorts, head still resting on the front bar. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

“I have something that might help in feeling better,” he hands Grian his drink in a takeaway cup. He’s seen how Grian, and most of his friends, get around this time of year and there are several regulars he will not give their mugs to, out of fear of breaking them and having to explain the damages to his boss.

“You're the most wonderful person I know,” Grian croaks out, absolutely putting it on for show now.

“I’ll remind you of that next time you complain about me.”

“Go ahead,” Grian sips at the still burning-hot drink, grimaces, and then takes another mouthful. “You won't remember it either.”

Scott works in silence for a few moments, wiping down the counter, stacking the boxes of coffee and tea back where they're meant to sit. He then leans against the counter, cloth still clutched in one hand as he looks over at Grian.

“I beat your record.”

“What?” Grian squawks, head shooting up. He sounds almost like a bird, which is something Scott’s pretty certain he’s picked up from Jimmy (and the host of other avian friends the man has- seriously, he collects them like cards) because the man is human as can be. “How?”

“You underestimate how rude students are at this time of year.” He shrugs, wiping at a non-existent speck of dirt on the counter. “And how little they notice before they've had some coffee. And by then it’s already in the tip jar.”

Grian sighs, then laughs a little, murmuring, “The pupil has become the master.”

“I was always better than you anyway.”

Grian’s head shoots up. “No you were not-”

“Afternoon, sunshine.”

“You need to stop calling me that.”

“I think it fits you,” Pearl chimes in, from the other side of the counter.

“You don't get an opinion, Pearl.” Scott shoots back. “What can I get for you today? Ready to branch out and try new things?”

“Same as always,” Martyn grins. “Though, I might try one of your brownies, I've heard they're rather nice.”

“Pearl puts whatever she can find in them, so it’s your funeral if it was out of date and she didn't notice.” He rings Martyn up, holding the card machine out to the man.

“Hey!” Pearl pops up beside him, eyes narrowed playfully. “I’ll have you know that you are the only person to have eaten something funny in any of my brownies ever.”

“So it’s special treatment?” He uses the tongs to grab one of the brownies from the top of the stack, sticking it on a plate and sliding it towards Martyn. “I feel honoured.”

“As you should,” Pearl sniffs, attempting to look down her nose at him, which would work better if she was taller than Scott. But alas.

“That’ll be ready for you in a moment,” he tells Martyn. “Feel free to grab a seat.”

Martyn does so without complaint, though Scott notices that he doesn't pull his laptop out, nor does he retrieve his textbook - marine biology, Scott had managed to catch a glimpse at the cover two weeks ago while the man was lugging it around - instead, he simply sits and watches.

It would be unsettling if he wasn't already used to it. And besides, having an attractive man watching him like that? Scott is hardly going to complain. But Martyn’s stare is far more intense today, threatening to burn a hole straight through his head with how hard he’s staring at him. Normally, Scott can ignore it pretty well, put it out of his mind as he makes his drink and then get on with his business easily enough.

Martyn’s still staring when he turns around, watching him with his brows furrowed, eyes narrowed, as though thinking. He doesn't react when Scott looks at him, nor does he react when he gives him a questioning look. His eyes continue to be fixed on that spot of air, not following Scott around as he adds the last touches to his drink.

It’s only when he sets the latte down in front of Martyn that the man seems to startle free from his reverie, blinking several times. He then looks down at the coffee, and back up at Scott, as though he’s unsure how he got here.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“You're not sorry at all,” Martyn laughs into his drink, already raising it to his mouth to take a sip. If Scott were a nicer person, he would remind him that it’s hot, but he’s not, so he watches him burn his mouth instead. Martyn coughs and then swallows it, taking another sip, as though Scott didn't notice.

Pearl is washing the dirty dishes in the sink, so Scott is on the till. Which is right beside where Martyn is sitting. Martyn chances a glance over at him from the corner of his eye, probably trying to check if he saw him burn his mouth, only to find Scott already watching him.

He grins.

“You know,” Martyn says. The hand resting on the table taps an irregular rhythm against its surface. “You never responded to my apology.”

“What response did you want?” Scott tips his head to the side, watching from the corner of his eye as a group of students starts packing up. “Me to fall over, swooning, at you giving an apology for prying into my personal life?”

“That…makes it sound a lot worse than it actually was,” Martyn frowns.

“Maybe.” He shrugs. Some of his hair is coming loose, swinging in front of his face. He sees Martyn’s eyes follow it, watching as he tucks it back with a gloved hand.

“Sorry about that, again,” Martyn winces. “But I was thinking,”

“Oh dear,”

“I was thinking that I could make it up to you, maybe, like, take you out for coffee somewhere? Smooth things over all nice- maybe share several embarrassing stories about Jimmy?”

He stares at Martyn. He’s not actually sure if the man is being serious.

Martyn’s face twists in confusion, brows furrowing as he stares at Scott. Scott stares back. “Uh, you alright? You can just say no if you want to, I won't be offended, I swear.”

Scott stares at him for a moment longer.

“Okay, that’s kinda freaky. Can you stop?” Martyn’s leaning back in his chair slightly. “Please?”

“Sorry, I was just trying to figure out how you got into your marine biology course.”

“How do you know I do- actually, nevermind. What do you mean trying to figure out how I got in?”

“How someone so stupid got into a science course.” Pearl is listening now. He can tell, even though she hasn't actually moved from where she stands at the sink. He can tell, because the clinking of mugs and plates has stopped, meaning she isn't washing them to listen better.

“I'm not stupid.”

“Yes you are.” He holds up a hand when Martyn goes to protest. “No, you just asked a coffee shop manager to go out to coffee with you. Tell me how any part of that is remotely smart.”

Martyn blinks at him for several moments. Several, very long moments. “Okay. Maybe not my best and most thought out plan- I'm not exactly going to invite you to a bar am I?”

“Well no, you wouldn't be able to afford it.”

Martyn makes an offended noise in the back of his throat at that, mouth opening to speak. Before he can make another suggestion, Pearl interrupts, resting her chin on his shoulder to look at Martyn.

“Why don't you invite him to the party we’re having?” She asks, “That’s next week.”

“I, yeah, actually,” Martyn nods, “that’s not a bad idea at all.”

“You're having a party next week?” He turns on Pearl. “And you didn't invite me?”

“I was gonna!” Pearl insists. “But it’s a good thing I didn't, huh? Because otherwise Martyn wouldn't have a good excuse to spend more time with you.” She then blinks very hard, which Scott is pretty sure is her attempt at a wink. He swallows down a laugh.

He turns back to Martyn and says, “Sure. I’ll come.”

“Oh, really?” Martyn looks actually surprised that he’s accepted. “Oh neat, well, you're gonna have to bring a drink of some kind.”

“One of those parties?”

“Yup!” Pearl nods, “We’re celebrating surviving the last week of this term.”

“Proud of you for doing that.” He pats Pearl on the shoulder, “It’s a miracle you didn't kill anyone.”

“How do you know I haven't already?”

He laughs, because he’s not sure what else he’s meant to do when Pearl gives him her best dead-eyed stare and he’s reminded of that one time they bumped into each other outside of work, at night, and her eyes shone like a cat’s.

Martyn starts laughing after a moment as well, but it’s got a faintly worried note to it and when Scott looks at him, his eyes are a little wider than normal, smile a little strained around the edges.

He leaves the conversation there, because there is no good way to continue it after someone says that. Pearl seems pleased with herself, at least.

#juno.writes #watcher's nest café au #scott smajor #martyn inthelittlewood #majorwood #coral kids #mean gills #trafficshipping #trafficblr #traffic smp #traffic series #life series #ls4 #inthelittlewood #trafficfic

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rosalinewintrell · 10 months

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Starting Over

Part Fourteen of Opposites are a Perfect Match is here! I really really loved writing this part and I hope you still like me at the end of it.

As always, please enjoy and like, comment, or reblog if you do!

The next morning Rosaline received Sharp’s list of supplies during breakfast, a smart little Tawny owl with remarkably dark coloring swooping over her head and dropping the envelope directly onto her eggs. It was still rather early in the morning, especially for a weekend, so Rosaline was one of very few students sitting in the Great Hall. Professors Weasley and Ronen were sitting together on the raised dais at the front of the room chatting quietly over their own plates.

She chewed slowly, reading through the list as she enjoyed her last few bites of her breakfast. It wasn’t too extensive, but Rosaline was still impressed with its length. It included seeds, ingredients, equipment spellcrafts, and even a few cauldrons of very specific size. A shrinking charm and a little creative packing and she should be able to fit nearly everything in her satchel. The shops would only just be opening at Hogsmeade, and Rosaline thought she had a few moments before she would need to head back to her dorm to change into more presentable clothes before heading out for the day. She was hoping to beat the weekend flood of students that often left the quaint village an absolute mess on Saturdays.

Rosaline took a sip of her tea, something a bit darker than she would usually drink, though there was a citrusy spice in the flavor she found she quite enjoyed. Her eyes fluttered shut and she sighed into her cup, quietly soaking in the heat of the sun where it slanted through the windows and over her form.

The early light lighted her with a halo, a bright lighting shining from around her head, the curve of her shoulder and dip of her back. She was wearing a cream kitted sweater over a pale pink collared shirt. Her black skirt was belted around her waist, paired with cream stocking and comfortable ankle boots. She even wore her hair pulled back in slim pink ribbon, most of it falling over her shoulders. She looked lovely sitting in the morning sun, finger loosely gripping her teacup, staring into the distant nowhere.

She was the first thing Garreth saw when he slipped into the Great Hall.

Most people might assume Garreth Weasley, like many of the members of his house, slept in quite late on the weekends, but the farm hours he kept at home had him waking with the dawn almost daily. Most of the time he lounged around the Gryffindor Common Room until late in the day, often catching up on schoolwork, reading up on experimental potion brewing, or even poring over his own notes.

Today he’d wandered out of the Common Room early in hopes of finding the exact girl he was now staring at. It was not unknown that Rosaline was an early riser, having been seen heading out to the Quidditch pitch with Imelda most mornings. Garreth figured the brown-haired Slytherin was trying to help Rosaline with flying, though he didn’t think it always went well. She didn’t seem to notice him as he approached, continuing to stare at some floating spot far in the distance.

“Good morning,” he greeted quietly, resting a hand between her shoulder blades as he settled himself beside her.

If she was surprised by his appearance, she didn’t show it, turning to look at him, tea still held in her hands close to her chest, a sleepy morning smile on her lips. “Good morning, Garreth,” she replied, “I’m surprised to see you here so early.”

Garreth shrugged, reaching forward to scoop a bit of breakfast onto his plate, “I had a reason to be out of the Common Room early today.”

Rosaline blushed and looked away, eyes focusing into the distance once more. “Oh really?”

“Indeed,” Garreth said, take a quick bite of his eggs, an amused smile curling on his lips.

“And what might that be?”

“You, of course,” he replied, cheeky smirk transforming to a grin as Rosaline’s flush deepened and spread up to her ears. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, though a smile of her own appeared. “What?” Garreth asked, a chuckle in his voice, “Too cheesy?”

Rosaline hummed and shook her head, “Maybe a little, but,” Rosaline finally looked at him again, eyes alight with laughter, “that’s okay.”

Garreth returned to his breakfast, the pair sitting on silence, and though it might have been easy, there was an untouched tension between them, unsaid words, and unknown expectations. It didn’t take the boy long to finish his meal, he had grown up with four older siblings, two of them very quick, competitive brothers. He had learned to eat quickly at an early age. He pushed his plate away from him and leaned his arms on the table, turning his head to look at Rosaline, who was swirling the sip of tea left her cup.

“I’d like to take you to Hogsmeade, if you have time today,” Garreth finally said, causing Rosaline to pause and place her cup back onto its matching saucer.

“It’s awfully last minute,” she said, eyebrow raised.

“I know,” Garreth said, “I thought about sending an owl last night, but I remembered that the only windows on the Slytherin Common rooms are underwater, and birds can’t swim, so,” Garreth shrugged, a flush heating his face as Rosaline giggled and shook her head.

“There is a house elf, Torta, who helps deliver mail if it’s necessary. It doesn’t happen especially often,” she explained.

“Really? There always seem to be owls ferrying notes out of Gryffindor Tower.”

Rosaline offered a small shrug and a tight, subdued smile, “Must not be many sent to Slytherins, I guess.”

Garreth’s smile fell from his face, a heavy breath released through his nose. “I’m an idiot.”

“No,” Rosaline said quickly, “No you’re not. How were you supposed to know?” She tried to offer her companion a light smile, but it didn’t seem to help. He looked at his hands in his lap, shoulders slumped.

“I’ve been an awful friend to you.” He whispered.

“What? No!” Rosaline stuttered, turning in her seat to face him fully and leaning towards him. “You’ve been a fine friend. A wonderful friend, in fact.”

Garreth scoffed and shook his head, “How could I be a fine friend and let Leander do as he does? Let him slander you and your friends.” Garreth paused to take a small quick breath, “How could I believe it?”

Rosaline dropped her hand, a bit stricken by the thin cadence of his voice. It was quiet and not just in volume; the full, robust depth that distinguished Garreth’s voice among the rest, the light bouncing rhythm of his words had vanished. Rosaline wasn’t sure that she would know it was Garreth speaking if she wasn’t watching him. It was this sound that dropped sorrow deep in her chest, weight crushing behind her lungs more than his furrowed brow and drooped, glossy eyes.

Part of her sadness settled deeper as she sat, unable to comfort him because she hadn’t believed it herself. That Halloween night she had retreated to the Slytherin dormitories and sank in a large chair next to a window looking out into the lake. For hours she pondered every moment she had spent with the boy. Combing every word and gesture and breath in search of something that might have suggested she was untrustworthy, that might have caused doubt, that would validate Garreth’s stubborn belief in the things Leander said about other people; about Ominis, about her. She wasn’t an idiot; Leander wouldn’t have been forgiving in his description of their encounter. She was sure he had warped things to make her look exactly the way he saw her; a Slytherin pureblood, a villain in his perfectly crafted inner monologue.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, rubbing her hands under her eyes, wiping away evidence of unexpected tears with a loud sniffle.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” Sebastian startled her, his voice playful in its concern, if a bit hesitant. They were fine friends, but they didn’t often spend much time together without Ominis, and never in such serious moments.

“Sebastian!” Rosaline sniffles one last time before turning to face him. “What- what are you doing here?”

“Ah, party wasn’t that great.” He answered, hand scratching the back of his head, “The punch wasn’t even spiked.”

Rosaline nodded, staring at the floor right in front of his shoes.

“Someone giving you a hard time?”

Now Rosaline laughed, the sound harsh and a bit wet in her throat. She could feel the brotherly protection inching into his tone. “No, no. I’m…just being stupid.” Rosaline shook her head and turned away, sinking back into her chair, gazing at her distorted visage in the dark glass. It isn’t long before Sebastian settles into the next chair with a soft breath.

“Is it Garreth?” He asks quietly.

Rosaline’s head whips around to look at him, a confused and almost panicked look on her face. “Wh-what?”

“Oh stop,” Sebastian said, waving his hand at her, “Ominis and I both know how close you’ve gotten with him. I can’t imagine what he has that we don’t,” Sebastian rolled his eyes then, leaning back in his chair with a huff, “but if you have to be friends with a Gryffindor, he’s probably best choice.”

Rosaline is silent for a while, just watching their reflection in the window, the way it rippled with the movement of the water. “We’re all so dreary, us Slytherins,” she finally said, tilting her head to regard him. “Not one of us is happy. Not really. By the time we turn sixteen we’ve been…fucked in one way or another; by other students, by our families, by each other.” Rosaline shook her head and averted her gaze. The low candlelight across her face revealed wide sad eyes, rimmed red and still wet, white, streaky tear stains over the curve of her cheek. She sniffled again.

“I’d never been around someone so…whole before.” A small smile flashed on her face as she regarded the first few interactions with the Gryffindor. He was so innocently sure of himself, pretenses shattered as soon as the introductions were done. “He was always so light, and happy and good, and I—” Rosaline looked away, burying her face in her knees which were pulled into her chest. She took a few deep breaths, heaving them in through her nose and releasing them from her mouth. She forced the gathering of tears to dry. Finally, she turned to look at Sebastian again, a small smile on her face, eyes cloudy and wet, but bright with truth, “He made me feel so joyous. All the time.” Her smile faltered. “He wasn’t like the rest, or at least he wanted not to be, tried not be…but in the end, he’s just like the rest of them.”

As she spoke, Sebastian felt like his own heart was crumbling in his chest. He had never seen the pureblood girl so stricken, so out of sorts, for any reason. He resonated with her, as she revealed her thoughts, but they were still young, their future still waiting for them, but the hopeless quiet of her voice soaked him completely. “Whose them?”

Rosaline scoffed and jerked her head towards the Common Room exit, a clear indication. “Anyone one who sleeps outside these dorms.”

“What did he do?”

Rosaline shook her head again “He believed Leander.”

“What?” Sebastian spluttered, “About what? That you attacked him?”

“That I attacked him, that Ominis tortures muggles for fun, that he would hurt or kill people based on blood status.” Rosaline rolled her head over and looked at Sebastian, mirthless smirk on her lips. “He believed him, over me.”

Sebastian simply nodded, turning stare out into the dark lake, eyes dark. They sat together in silence late into the night, until the bustling of returning partygoers bid them to return to their beds. The next day, Rosaline tried to apologize to him, embarrassed, asking him to forgive her overreaction. Sebastian just shook his head, a hand on her shoulder. “It’s not an overreaction if it’s how you feel.” He hadn’t convinced her. She was still embarrassed about her behavior for the next few days. It didn’t matter how she felt, what mattered is what happened and what was true, and what was true was that Garreth simply didn’t believe her word of Leander’s, but they were best friends; Garreth had only known her a couple of months.

Could she really blame him? No, she had been out of line with her reaction, and Sebastian wouldn’t convince her otherwise.

Now, Rosaline just smiled, trying to catch his eye. “It’s fine, really,” Garreth loved over at her, shocked expression on his face, though the furrow of his grow and down on his lips were edged with disbelief.

“What?”

Rosaline shrugged and stood, wiping down the front of her skirt. “You’ve known Leander since you were young. I shouldn’t have been so surprised you believed him.” She shrugged. “Now, I need to run to the dorm to grab my coat and change—”

Garreth’s hand caught her wrist, holding her firmly where she stood. It tightened just a bit as she tried to question him. His face was almost distraught, as though he didn’t truly believe she was acting this way, that she had forgiven him, that she didn’t care. “Are you—are you sure?”

Rosaline smiled softly and nodded, “Yes, Garreth, I’m sure. Now let me go change!”

“You don’t need to change,” he replied quickly, still holding her wrist.

“Oh I—really?” Rosaline looked down at her clothes, far from an appropriate walking suit, “Even though we’re going out?”

“Godric’s heart, no” he said, “You’re gorgeous as you are.”

Rosaline’s face flushed a deep pink, the color appearing even at the edge of her ears. “O-okay,” she agreed, “But I still to get my bag. Meet me in the Courtyard?”

Garreth nodded and let her go, watching as she jogged away. He had brought his own jacket with him, a thin wool coat with a contrasting collar. “Hey Weasley,” A voice called as Garreth stood. The Gryffindor looked towards the door, seeing Sebastian waving him over. He followed Sebastian into the small hallway outside the Great Hall who allowed the doors to shut loudly before whipping around and corning Garreth against one of the walls, his forearm pressed hard into his collarbone.

“Ow! Sebastian what the hell—”

“What the fuck are you doing?” the Slytherin spat, brown eyes flaming as they locked with Garreth’s wide stare.

“What are you on about, Sallow?”

“I’m on about Rosaline you stupid git.” The Slytherin continued, voice just as venomous upon Garreth’s confusion. “I don’t know what you said to her on Halloween but if I ever find her in such a state again, I will ruin you.”

Garreth seemed to deflate, all fight draining from his muscles, accepting the hard weight of Sebastian’s arm against his chest. “What was she like?”

Sebastian stilled for a moment and then stepped back. Folding his arms as he regarded the Gryffindor, who was rubbing at his chest. “Like she’d just gone five rounds with a Dementor—or a Boggart I guess—like all her greatest fears had all come true, all at once. Like she had no more joy.”

Garreth didn’t say a word, only nodded, his eyes firmly on his feet. Sebastian finally sighed and clapped the boy on the shoulder.

“You better fix it. You’re the only Gryffindor good enough for her.”

Garreth huffed and shook his head, though he flashed a grateful smile, “Thanks.”

***

Rosaline was waiting for him by the Bell Tower doors. She hadn’t changed, but she was holding what looked like a beige knitted cardigan over her arm. She was looking down at her shoes while she waited, but as he approached, she looked up, dark irises meeting his and twinkling with her smile.

“Are you ready?” he asked, opening the door. Rosaline nodded and took his arm when he offered it. He couldn’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu as they walked over the bridge towards Hogsmeade. The weight of Rosaline’s hand on his arm was the same, as was her light lilac and vanilla perfume. The weather was cooler, and the leaves were falling steadily from the trees now. It would likely start snowing in a few weeks. He couldn’t believe how quickly Christmas was coming. Had it really been two and a half months since he met the girl walking next to him?

Rosaline seemed content to walk with his in silence, eyes roaming over the red and yellow leaves as they fell to the ground. A light breeze hastened their descent. Rosaline shivered and then chuckled, letting go of Garreth’s arm so she could slip her cardigan on. There were small pink roses embroidered into the sleeves, pink petals bright against the green stems and leaves. The yarn was soft and warm where it sat against his skin once she had lopped her arm through his again. He’d rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows, the brightening morning sun proving to be a bit warm.

The couple spent a wonderful few hours together in Hogsmeade. Rosaline stopped in a couple of shops, purchasing what she needed using Professor Sharp’s list. Garreth helped her pick out a couple of small cauldrons from Cerridwen’s and handed her ingredients when they were perched on high shelves. They popped into The Three Broomsticks around noon and shared a small plate of fried sweet potatoes for lunch.

Rosaline followed Garreth as he walked her through Zonko’s Joke Shop. His own delight at the silly toys and prank paraphernalia was infectious, and she found herself chuckling along as he told her about a few of the larger pranks he had participated in since starting school. Her personal favorite was learning that he had tossed a potion of unknown effect into the Wyvern bush in the Greenhouse garden. The potion had somehow given the shaped hedge sentience and it proceeded to chase students out away from the gardens for three days before returning to normal.

“I haven’t thought of a practical use for that one yet,” he said at the end of the story while Rosaline laughed.

“Ah, do you mind of we stop in here?” Rosaline asked as they walked by Gladrags Wizardwear. “I noticed my gloves are getting a bit thin.”

“Of course,” Garreth said, opening the door for her. While Rosaline walked towards the counter, inquiring about their selection of gloves, Garreth walked around, finding himself stepping into the metal-and-glass-works shop connected to the boutique. His eyes glanced over the small trinkets and telescopes that lined the walls, they lingered on a display of jewelry behind the counter. Laid on a small velvet pillow, one of a collection, was a small gold-chained flower pendant. Pearlescent pink petals lined with gold spiraled out of a gold beaded center.

“Ah, my wife actually makes those.” The man sitting at a workstation in the corner said before standing and retrieving the pillow so Garreth could see them up close. The boy carefully picked up the necklace, running his thumb over the enamel petals.

“Their beautiful,” he said.

***

Garreth stepped up beside Rosaline as she finished her conversation with the proprietor of Gladrags; a fashionable middle-aged man with penchant to gossip idly with all of his customers. “Find what you needed?” he asked, placing a hand just under her shoulder blades, a bright smile on his face.

Rosaline raised a small bag she was holding with a small smile and a nod. The duo bid goodbye to the man still chatting behind the counter and hurried out the door. They chuckled as they left the store, Rosaline’s arm folded around his as though it was meant to rest there.

They made one final stop at Honeyduke’s.

It was nearing teatime, and they both agreed they could share a snack before heading back to the castle. Garreth purchased their snacks, two small slices of a cherry tomato quiche and two berry tartlets to share between them. They also opted to try a Bertie-Botts inspired tea.

“Only the good flavours,” The store clerk promised.

Garreth found them a bench under one of the ever-blooming cherry trees that dotted the gardens around the village. They sat with two cups of tea and their box of treats between them. The food was delicious as usual and the tea…well the tea was alright. Rosaline disliked it outright but Garreth was sure he could improve on it.

It wasn’t long before the two found themselves walking back towards the school, having disposed of their rubbish in one of the many waste bins along the path. The were still high up on the hill, able to see the black lack spread out into the Horizon, the school rising high into the orange-tinged sky. Their daylight was starting to fade. Garreth slowed to a stop, grabbing Rosaline’s wrist.

She turned towards him, face and nose flushed pink from the light breeze and cool air. Garreth had even pulled his light coat on. Her dark eyes were wide, orange sunlight sparking in their depths. He pulled her closer, a hand coming to rest on the side of her neck, thumb stroking along her jaw. The other circled her waist, palm firm against her lower back. He watched her face for a moment, saw her dark eyes flick between his own. Their misty breaths mingled in the air between them.

“I want you, Rosaline.” He finally said, a small, closed lip smile on his face. “I want you like I’ve never wanted anything before, and when I kissed you yesterday and when I asked you here this morning, I intended to ask you to be mine.”

Garreth closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. He felt her breath brush his lips and cheek, and he had to resist his urge to press closer, to kiss her once more. Garreth almost expected her to question him during the silence, but she remained quiet, allowing him to gather his thoughts, as patient as ever.

“But I haven’t even been a friend to you.” He whispered, the words bouncing off her parted lips, “How could I ask for more?”

Now Rosaline took a breath, obviously ready to defend him, but he hushed her, his thumb coming to rest over her lips before she could open her mouth. He pulled away just enough to look at her once more.

“You may have been my friend, but I have not been yours.” He said staring into her flickering eyes. “I don’t deserve more. Not right now.” There was a moment of silence as Garreth moved his hands, cupping both sides of her jaw now, tilting her head so he could look down at her fully. “But I swear on Godric Gryffindor’s grave that I will earn the right to love you.” Garreth’s thumbs barely grazed the underside of her bottom lip. “I swear on Godric Gryffindor’s grave that I will kiss you again, Rosaline Sophia Alexandra Wintrell. I swear it.”

Rosaline remained silent, only reaching up to grasp Garreth’s forearms, stroking her own thumbs over the thin will of his coat. She could feel his warmth through it still. His eyes were dark with fierce determination, a shocking switch from the light, teasing softness they usually held. The witch sighed and nodded, just the barest tip of her chin so that she could continue to watch him.

***

Garreth escorted Rosaline back to campus and all the way to the Slytherin common rooms. They chatted lightly, nothing more serious than the next week’s classes as a topic. Garreth even remarked that he hoped they offered something pumpkin flavored for dessert at that evening’s dinner service. Given the time of year, it was nearly certain.

When they reached the dungeons, Rosaline removed her arm, but before she could walk away, Garreth stopped her. He retrieved a white velvet bag from his coat pocket and held it out to her. “I thought this might suit you,” he explained. “I had to buy it. Sorry if that’s weird.”

“Not at all,” Rosaline said with a small smile and taking the small pouch. “Thank you.”

Garreth bid her a quick, but friendly goodbye before leaving, jogging up the dungeon stairs.

***

It was past dinner before Rosaline was able to open the small bag. She was sitting on her bed, brushing through her hair after her bath. She was starting to get cold, but as she was reaching for her cardigan, her eye caught the bag’s shiny ribbon drawstrings.

She tipped the pendant into her hand, a soft gasp escaping her lips as the shiny metal caught her dorm’s low candlelight. A soft smile curved Rosaline’s lips and she clasped the pendant around her neck. The flower laid right between her collarbones, the gold chain winking. Rosaline ran a finger over the petals.

“Is that new?” Imelda asked, having entered the room. Rosaline just hummed, turning toward her roommate. “We’ll com’on Sebastian and Ominis are playing chess in the common room. Things are starting to get interesting!”

Rosaline chuckled, but grabbed her cardigan, throwing it on as she followed Imelda. She could hear Sebastian cursing already.

#garreth weasley #hogwarts au #hogwarts legacy #garreth weasley x mc #garreth x mc #garreth x you #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #aesop sharp #garreth x reader

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deans-baby-momma · 2 years

Text

The Story of Us-Chapter 14

A/N: This is a rewrite of a story my good friend @spnbaby-67 allowed me to take and rewrite. All mistakes are mine. This is canon divergent, meaning some things that happened in the show will still happen here but with my own twist to it.

Summary: She and Dean met when they were kids. Even at such a young age, she knew that he was her soulmate. Being the daughter of a hunter, Michaela (Micki) Singer knew the life he led came with a price, but she was up to the challenge.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/Michaela Singer

Warnings: Flashbacks are in italics, fluffy stuff, angst stuff, character death, kidnapping, depression, semi-dark themes

A/N2: This chapter has what is known as an inception flashback, or in layman terms, a flashback within a flashback……I learned something new today because I didn’t think it was possible. LOL

Summer 1997

Dean stayed at Singer’s Salvage after prom, telling John that he was taking on a hunt of his own when, in reality, he stayed back to spend time with Micki. Bobby, of course, never said a word to John because he thought the kid needed to be a rebellious teenager anyway. It’s a rite of passage for children; to disobey their parents’ rules and learn some lessons ‘the hard way’.

Dean and Micki were inseparable day in and day out. The only time they were apart was at night. Bobby might have been okay with his daughter and Dean dating but he was in no way going to condone them sleeping in the same bed. Not under his roof!

It’s been six months since prom and Dean was still living in Bobby’s basement. At breakfast one morning, he walked up behind Micki while she’s cooking breakfast-bacon and egg of course- and informs her that he is taking her out on a date that night.

“Really?” Micki asked, turning her attention from the pan of frying foods to look at her boyfriend. “Where are we going?”

Dean smiles and bends to peck a kiss to her lips. “Just out. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, beautiful. I have it all planned out. Just meet me out front at 5.”

After eating the delicious breakfast that she had prepared, Dean went out to help her dad in the garage so Micki went about cleaning up. She was giddy and excited that Dean had made plans and they were going out, like a real actual couple.

Not that they hadn’t had dates before, or as far as Bobby knew they were dates, but most of the times while her dad thought his daughter and Dean were at the movies or out getting dinner, the two lovebirds were parked on some deserted, backwoods road, fucking and giving each other immeasurable pleasure.

Micki sighs as she remembers just last week, they were in the backseat of one of the old jalopies from the junk yard, and they’d done something new but scary; had sex without a condom.

Flashback

Dean begins kissing down Micki’s neck as his hand snakes between her thighs and up to the hem of her shorts, his fingertips dipping under the material. Micki moans as she throws her head back.

“Why don't I help you take those shorts off?" Dean mumbled against her skin. With a bit of maneuvering and accidentally bumping their heads together once, the two lovers eventually succeeded and Micki laid back against the backseat of the Chevy.

Her legs were spread to accommodate Dean's body as he leaned forward and captured her in a passionate kiss, one of his hands finding purchase on her breast while his other was holding onto the back of the cushion.

After kneading her tit and flicking her nipple until it puckered, Dean's hand traveled south slowly but with purpose. As soon as his fingertips met her sodden folds, Micki moaned into the kiss.

"You like when I finger you, dontcha sweetheart?" Dean asked with a smile. "You like these-" he continues as he taps his digits against her core. "- rubbing all over this sweet little pussy, inside and out, hmm?"

"Yes, God yes!"

Dean uses his forefinger and ring finger to open her lower lips and rubs her clit with his middle one. He can already feel the nub swelling and pulsing against his touch.

"Baby, look at me."

Micki opens her eyes, she didn't even realize she had closed and looked into his viridian irises. Dean smiles down at her before telling her, "I like watching you as I do this."

His finger slides down and into her entrance, crooking at his fist knuckle to flick at the spongy part just behind her clit.

Micki whimpers and grates her hips but Dean doesn't falter as he keeps pushing and pulling his finger out of her, ultimately adding another and another until Micki's walls are stretched around his three thick digits.

"Fuck, look at how well you take it Mick! That pussy is squeezing my fingers."

"Dean," Micki groans as she feels her first orgasm approaching. "Don't stop! Please don't stop!"

The moment his thumb grazed across her turgid clit, Micki's back arched off the leather and her limbs tensed as her release flowed out, soaking his hand, wrist and interior of the vehicle.

"Damn baby," Dean says, astonished. "You squirted everywhere."

Before Micki could respond, Dean had removed his fingers and covered her whole pussy with his mouth, sucking and locking the remnants of her climax from her.

He spent what seemed like hours down there, nibbling on her clit, locking into her entrance and sucking hickey's onto her labia. Micki thought she'd go mad!

When he finally relented, she had had another orgasm from just his mouth and it was evident on his lips and chin when he pulled away from her.

"I gotta fuck you now before I explode!"

Dean hurriedly unbuckled his jeans and pulled them down, his hard dick bouncing up against his stomach.

"Shit!" He suddenly exclaimed. "Shit. Shit. Shit."

"What-" Micki asked.

"We don't have a condom. Fucking hell! I forgot to replace the one we used the other day."

"Oh. Well I could suck you off?" She suggested, sitting up and wrapping her hand around his shaft, pumping her fist up and down his length

"What if," Dean began and then swallowed. "What if I promise to pull out? Please? I kinda want to fuck you bare. See if it feels different, better."

"You promise?" She asked as she continued jerking him off. "You cannot cum inside me!"

"Pinky promise," Dean said, holding his free hand up, the pinky finger extended. As soon as Micki's wrapped around it, he smiles. "This is gonna feel awesome!"

Sweat was beading on his forehead as he plowed into Micki's welcoming body. Dean could feel his release but didn't want this to end, so he stayed it off. He bit into his bottom lip until he tasted blood, his hips thrusting without abandon.

"Oh fuck! That feels good. God, I'm gonna cum. Oh god, oh god!"

Micki starts pushing against his chest. "Pull out Dean! Pull out! Now!"

But it was too late. Dean had already discharged a few spurts into her body before he could remove himself to finish on her stomach.

"Goddammit Dean!"

End Flashback

The sound of the screen door creaking open and then slamming shit brought Micki back to reality as she watched her father stroll in to refill his coffee thermos.

"Hey sweetie," he says as he pounds the liquid. "Dean tells me y'all are going out again?"

"Yea.Probably just going into town for a burger at the diner," Micki says, shrugging.

"Well, don't stay out too late."

"We won't Dad," she smiles as her Dad comes over to kiss her on top of the head before disappearing out the door again.

Present Day (2008)

Bobby goes to rush to Dean, realizing the boy is devastated as he's been lied to-by an angel, no less- and that Micki isn't awake.

But as he glances past the man on the floor to the younger Winchester, he is confused by the smile on Sam's lips

"She woke up about an hour ago," Sam explains.

Bobby hurries to the bedroom door, stepping around Dean and looks inside.

Michaela is sitting up, against the headboard with her feet planted on the mattress and her daughter laying against her raised knees.

"Hiya Dad!”

@lostinaseaoffictionalbliss @spnbaby-67 @tftumblin @sea040561 @delightfullykrispypeach @larajadeschmidt13 @atc74 @vicariouslythruspn @squirrelnotsam @sandlee44 @blacktithe7 @hoboal87 @mogaruke @deanwanddamons @supraveng @deandreamernp @akshi8278 @lyarr24 @maggiegirl17 @chriszgirl92

#dean winchester #sam winchester #micki singer #bobby singer #the story of us #dean x micki #flashbacks

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amoreemioo · 1 year

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@idleds

ares wasn’t crazy. he wasn’t a suspicious lover, he didn’t lack trust or spend his days worrying what his boyfriend was doing. not like that. it was one thing to track his every move and wonder who he was hanging out with — which he wasn’t! his thoughts were innocent, even if he was currently looking at his boyfriends location.

which … yeah, he turned the location on himself. weeks ago. before he left. days before he left, considering he had to take the chance when he had it. he didn’t want to get caught! that would have been so embarrassing.

which! ares would be turning it back off, and telling seunggi all about it once this was all said and done. it wasn’t a secret, it was just a necessary evil, or something. it had to be done so he didn’t have to ask too many questions. what’re you doing today? any events coming up? how’s work, baby? all perfectly normal questions, sure, but what if seunggi started asking why ares was asking? he was just paranoid over nothing, is all.

but for now he needed it, okay? he needed to make sure the other man was in the city, but not home. it was … hard to set up, really. if anything ares was just putting a lot of faith into hope, here. simply hoping that it would line up and work out.

the good thing? it wouldn’t matter if it didn’t work, you know? well — if seunggi didn’t come home at all then that would suck. but that wasn’t going to happen. ares was going to will it into existence. manifest it, if you will. and if it didn’t work out he’d just sleep in his own bed for a day or two, and leave his boyfriend a cute note before he left.

but maybe … maybe ares was manhandling his faith a little, forcing it into place — he was doing his best to make this happen. they might only have a weekend before ares left again, after all, and he planned on making the most of every single second.

which meant calling in help in the form of his sister, bless her. not only did she pick him up but she already had everything ares needed. nyx went above and beyond, even, considering she was helping him carry stuff in. though maybe she had ulterior motives, too, if the way she started looking around said anything — not that ares blamed her. the man he was dating was probably … a little shocking. or he’d think as much if it was new news. she didn’t seem shocked at all, even went as far as laughing. of course she knew! didn’t everyone?

her words, not his.

words that ares was huffing under his breath as he finally ushered her out of the apartment, some may call it shooing.

and then? then ares was getting down to business, so to speak.

music? on. tv? on. lights? down — or most of them, the kitchen was still bright as could be. it had to be, he was trying to melt chocolate and peel an orange. all of which came to an abrupt stop as the front door opened. he was looking up from where he was dipping one of those very orange slices into chocolate, his quiet humming getting caught in his throat as he saw him.

“seunggi —”

sure, ares was the odd thing out right now. he shouldn’t be here! he should be halfway across the world right now, doing his thing. but still, his eyes were widening a little in surprise.

“i thought i had at least an hour —“ god, his fingers were chocolate coated and he didn’t even have time to play romantic music. he didn’t even get the flowers out of their bag! he didn’t even get the movie ready! he didn’t even —

“ — surprise, baby.” despite the fact that ares felt like he just got caught with his pants around his ankles (he was fully dressed, thank you) he was still all smiles. how could he not be? na seunggi, live and in person. of course he was going to smile. it was like a surprise for him, as if the other man coming home unexpectedly was the same thing as ares being here, too. surprises all around!

#idleds #i love them i do i do #💕 : ag #🎞 : ares & seunggi

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xxsarcasm · 1 year

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Soap x Oc Alison.

A/N: ok so this is a story I wrote for the wonderful Soap on twitter I love their art so much and aaaaahh they are so sweet. Their twitter handle is @.RenegadeSpector Alison is the name of their adorable oc. She has shoulder length brown hair and she's got a little pudge, just makes her a cute lil teddy bear.

7 November 2022 7:05am

It’s just this one here, just pullover there. Thanks for lift. Johnny says as he points at his girlfriend’s house.

Good luck, See ya in a week yea. Price says as he drives off with a wave out the diver window.

Soap walks up to the front door and fiddles with the junk in his pocket till he finds his key and opens the door slowly with a creek.

Soap gets startled as something is thrown towards him but he ducks behind the door quickly to dodge it. It's me Ali!! he says with a surprised concern.

Johnny?! you're home! Alison says with surprise and shock in her voice as she rushes to the door from the kitchen opening the door for him.

Hey babe. he says as he steps through the doorway and puts down his bags. hugging Alison tightly around the waist and kissing her neck. Why are you up it's so early.

I was writing about a certain event that just so happened in Chicago just the other day, you know the one you called me about but had to go because you were all rushing about? I’ve gotten a fair few requests for whatever scoop I might have on it. CIA did a shite job covering that up. Alison says as she pulls away to let her boyfriend in.

You’re telling me. He scoffs as he walks over to the couch not so far away and flops onto his back gesturing for his girlfriend to lay on him.

I missed you, how long are you here for? Not long I assume.. Alison says as she lays on top of Johnny.

I get a week.. Gotta deal with a Russian dip shit. But we can do whatever you want to do for the week, I don’t care what I just want to be with you. He whispers as he holds her tightly and kisses her head.

There's a carnival just in town if you want to go? I know you like their dumb humour. She says as she snuggles in.

There is? I didn't see it, though I came through the boring way. It's faster and I couldn't be away from you for another second. Do you mean today or another day? he asks while playing with her hand with one hand.

Today is the last day so yes, If you aren’t too tired, if you are even a little tired you have to rest. Alison whispers.

I’m not tired, I guess it's a date then. He giggled with an unearthly thicc accent.

A date? I haven’t been on a date in like 2 years! she says teasingly.

2? I’ve been gone longer than that, who you seeing? He says as he teases back.

Oh just the Irish fellow down the road. She jokes as she moves to sit on him now.

You didn’t just say that, did you? he says as he rolls her onto her back and starts kissing and tickling her.

Stop, stop it it's too early for this.. I can’t Johnny staappp. She tries to fight off his tickle attack to no avail.

You are so friggin perfect you know that? he says as he stops tickling Alison so she can breathe.

I’m aware sweetheart, you only tell me everytime we speak. Says Alison in a soft tone as she brushes his mohawk out of his face. Your hair is getting too long.

I thought you liked appropriate hair? he says with a grin.

You are the only man in the whole world that can pull off this hair and still be as sexy as the day I met you.

I’m hungry, got anything good or we gotta go on an early morning date too? Soap says with a sheepish grin as he gets up to stretch his back

I’ve got left overs, a spinach and cheese pie. I’ll make you a plate, want tea? she asks knowing his response.

Babe… For the last time, coffee please. He says with a sigh, Bloody britts.

Oh right of course I forgot you are so much of a baby you can't have the healthier option. She smirks in response.

Time skip of about 7 hours - at the carnival.

That's a big ass ferris wheel, aye? soap says with admiration in his voice.

Sure is, bigger than the one last year, but I want to do the stalls first, I hear they set all the guns off by 2 vertical clicks to the right. Alison says.

Where’d you get that info? We have to go play a few rounds! I’m gonna win every single one! Soap says happily as he walks off in the direction of the stalls.

infact Alison was correct about the configurations of the guns and Johnny proceeded to win every stall he played which was about 30, after which they both got some food at the only remotely good food stall and went to line up at the ferris wheel.

Finally, it was such a long wait! Soap says as he hops into the ferris wheel cage and extends a hand to Alison.

That’s what we get for doing this last I guess. Alison answers, taking his hand to get in and sits on the other side of him to face him.

Oh one more thing, he says as he pops his head out of the cage before they close the door and whispers something to the attendant and the attendant nods to him with a smile.

Ok lets see this view! he says with a clap.

What was that? Alison asks.

What whas what? he asks with fake confusion.

Fine don’t tell me I’m in too good a mood for your childish humor to irritate me in the slightest. she says with a pout.

Childish, my humor is not childish. he says with a jokingly hurt pride.

as the ferris wheel goes around it comes to a stop at the top of the wheel.

Oh nice we get a real view for a bit. Says Alison as she leans over to see the beautiful view of the lake.

Yep, a real sweet view. Soap says with a crack. I.. um I have something I want to ask you.

Yea, what is it? Are you ok? What do you need? Alison asks now full of seriousness.

Well first, your shoe is untied. Let me get that he says as he gets on his knee to fix Alison's shoe and as he finishes he pulls out a little box from his coat pocket.

Alison, you are the most amazing, beautiful, spectacular, gorgeous, kindest, smartest, sexist, most wonderful person in the whole world and you are my world and I don’t know what I would do without you in it.

Will you marry me?

Johnny says as he looks up at his girlfriend with nerves that could kill.

Alison sits there in pure shock with her hand over her mouth.

YESS! she says as she grabs him and hugs him tightly.

Johnny leans up into her hug with tears in his eyes.

How long have you had that ring for? Alison asks.

It's my grandmothers, I asked my father if I could give it to you. He was thrilled that I actually got the guts to tell you. as he puts the ring on her finger and sits down again.

Ok you two love birds time to get off, says the attendant with a big grin seeing Alison's ring.

As the two of them step off.

Johnny, I love you so much. Alison says as she pulls him into a passionate kiss.

I love you more.

SOAPS ART! WANNA SEE MORE FOLLOW THEM ON TWITTER @.RenegadeSpector

#call of duty #mw2 #ships #cod #hc #headcannon #soap mw #john soap mactavish #oc #x oc

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sarcasticdolphin · 1 year

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“Dreamer” Sequel to “Oath” NB: It used to be normal to (platonically) share a bed with a sibling/servant/cousin/etc. That is what the bed-sharing refers to. It’s not so common these days

Rudolf wakes to movement beside him.

“Rest.” A gentle touch at his shoulder accompanies Tod’s soft voice.

The prince turns over, nuzzling into the warm sheets and pillows. It feels like a warm hug. The dip in the bed disappears and Rudolf drifts back into his dreams.

His father and Taaffe disheveled in front of a mirror, his father’s hand dripping blood. His mother weeping amidst the dying flowers of autumn. His father shouting impotently into the blank mirror. Tod at a desk, scribbling, a matching mirror hanging in an alcove. His host looked up, slightly puzzled.

Rudolf snapped awake, breathing hard. Tod entered a moment later and stood by the end of the bed.

“How are you?”

“I-” Rudolf felt a little better than yesterday, but utterly disgusting. When was the last time he bathed? Did that rainstorm two - no three days ago count? “Do you have a washroom?”

Tod nodded to a door Rudolf hadn’t noticed earlier.

The shower was hot, life-giving. Rudolf purred with pleasure as the heat went through him, the grime of his journey washing away. Part of him wonders why Tod didn’t throw him in last night.

Rudolf ends up throwing on clothes that must be Tods - black on black on black. They are big on him, but not overly much.

Tod is scribbling away as Rudolf enters his office.

“Better?” Tod gestured to a sofa before joining him. A bell jingles and Tod calls for the servant to enter. The young man - not, Rudolf notes, one of Tod’s angels - brings sandwiches and drinks. Rudolf’s stomach suddenly decides to make a reappearance.

Tod watches as Rudolf eats, only nibbling at a single sandwich himself. As Rudolf finishes he finally breaks the silence.

“You are a dreamer.”

Rudolf’s brow furrows in confusion. “I- what is a dreamer?”

Tod’s expression hardens momentarily before softening. “You see things while asleep. Things that are, things that were, things that may come to pass.”

Rudolf shifts. “Sometimes. You make it sound much clearer than it is. How did you- How did you know?”

“You were projecting a bit, just now. I could feel your mind before me even though you were still sleeping. Do you mind me asking what you saw?”

“You writing in your office. That mirror.” Rudolf nods to the alcove with the mirror in it. “My father and Taaffe with a similar mirror. They looked frustrated. My mother, sad in a field of flowers.”

Tod smiled as the mirror vibrated. “Your father has tried to call me five times already today.”

“How did I become a dreamer, as you called it?” Rudolf remembers his odd dreams, rarely helpful. When he can draw links to reality, which is not all that often, it is always far too late to use the few visions of the future that dance before his eyes. Often he can’t even pinpoint a timeline, let alone understand what is happening.

“Dreamers do not become, and they are not really trained. They are born. It is your mother’s and grandmother’s Wittelsbach blood you have to thank for your gift.”

Tod is looking at him as if he is a fallen star. He reaches out almost hesitantly, as if Rudolf might break from the faintest touch.

“And you probably had nightmares as a child. Severe ones.”

Rudolf looks warily at the other, but nods.

Tod’s expression is sorrowful as he scoots close to Rudolf, taking the prince’s hands in his own.

“I’m sorry. All of those with gifts of the mind-” He draws Rudolf’s head in and places a kiss on his brow. “Usually do unless they have someone to proxy for them.”

“Proxy?”

“It’s not a good word for it. Someone to share a bed with. Two minds weather the turbulence of the otherworld much better than one.”

“I never had a bedmate. I only have sisters. And father never did like my uncle. He always sent him - and my cousins - far afield.”

“Not even a servant?”

“Rudolf shook his head. Grandmother thought it improper.”

“And your mother?”

“My mother-” Rudolf heard the icy shift in his tone “took no part in raising me.”

“Rudolf.” The sorrow on Tod’s face is beyond evident. He pulls the prince into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Tod just holds him tighter. How long they stay like that, Rudolf is not sure. “Was last night your first time?”

The question seems a non sequitur to Rudolf. He blushes before nodding, not trusting his words.

“Just with a man or ever?”

“Ever.” Rudolf’s voice is quiet.

“Powers above, Rudolf.” Tod leans back to look Rudolf in the eye and cups his face. “You will sleep in my bed and let me proxy for you. You could use some decent sleep for once in your life.” He says it with a tone of humor, but the sorrow and seriousness in his words hang clearly in the air. “And when you feel ready, I want you to come to me. So I can give you a proper first time.”

Rudolf blushes, but nods to that as well.

#oath au #todolf #my fic

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orangeboulevard · 4 months

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An idea of mine. A cowboy in LOTR as like a Tenth Walker AU. I... Should be focusing more on schoolwork. 😔 anywhoo, here's the first chapter unpublished so far, may be subject to change if I actually publish it.

Expect historical inaccuracies. I'm not a cowboy. Or from middle earth.

BORN DAYS... (Tenth Walker AU)

First chapter under the cut...

Chapter One: Change Of Terrain

There were three things Jesse Bennett knew for certain: one, he had woken up in an entirely different place to which he had fallen asleep in- two, he no longer dwelled in the vast New World's desert- and three, Doc was kicking up a goddamn fuss.

"Hey, Hey! Woah there!" Jesse rose to his feet and wrangled the stallion to a still, he cooed calming sounds to comfort the spooked equine.

He stroked his horse's back as he checked his saddlebags, all his effects and food were untouched; supposing he was stolen away in the night by bandits- they weren't very good bandits.

Jesse contemplated his odd predicament as he examined the surrounding environment; he found no sign of his group nearby, and how unfortunate because he'd kill to have that Bean Master around now.

He had fallen asleep last night under the American stars with the nye-unbearable summer heat of Texas. Now, he was shrouded by thick trees and flora, a cool breeze ghosted through his vest and cotton shirt, he readjusted his rifle strap. He had not drunk much last night, surely this extremely vivid dream could not be a product of the bottle.

"What are ya' supposin' we do, Doc?" Jesse said as he mounted his steed, the horse whinnied and stepped, "Ain't you just a blatherskite today? Righ', find a town and ask for directions. I got some actual, you hungry? I'm hungry." He fixed his hat before setting off.

Deciding to find a town was the easy part, Jesse had to travel several miles of woodland before chancing upon a road. From there, he rode until the sun started to set and still, he had not reached a town or a village. His canteen was running dry and his food supply (which was hardly a supply to begin with) was bare- he dared not venture into the words for sustenance for fear of becoming lost; nor did he know the lands and its fruits.

Jesse's absent-minded narration to Doc stilled when a coolness traced his spine, a dreary downpour had swept into the skies, and the clouds became dark and troubled.

"Hey, 'least we don't gotta worry 'bout water," Jesse fastened his vest closer to him, he opened his canteen and let the rainwater fill it.

He didn't travel much further when he encountered a group of children. One unexpectedly rushed in front of his steed, the horse startled and almost threw Jesse from his back. He held down the reigns, forcing the horse to stay still, Jesse jumped down, and water splashed around his boots. He carefully approached the child, who lay frightened on the waterlogged path.

Jesse couldn't make much of the child's features from the dark but he offered a hand, "Hey, there, you alright? I'm sorry that Doc, here, scared ya'."

A small hand took his own, and Jesse helped the child to their feet. Their friends, he supposed, ran from the roadside and gathered around the one that had fallen.

One spoke up in an odd accent, Jesse reckoned he might be British, "Do you know how far Bree is from here?"

"I'm sorry, chap, but I'm as lost as you are. Hey, 's awfully dark out, where are y'all's parents at?"

"Parents? I'm twenty-eight Hobbit years old!"

Jesse's brows shot up, "shit, I jus'- pardon me, mister. If Bree be a town, would it trouble ya' if I joined ya'? I'm quite lost."

The vertically stunted men chattered to each other in a hushed tone, Jesse questioned the word 'Hobbit' to himself- those over the pond most likely had different idioms. At last, one of the fellows declared that he could. He dipped his hat to them and decided not to mount his horse again, lest he accidentally trample one of the short men underfoot.

They quietly made their way forward, the group in front of him, he and Doc walking behind. One of the men fell in step with him and eyed him carefully, "You speak funnily, where are you from?"

One of the other men snapped at him, "Pippin!"

"What?"

"Nah, 's okay," Jesse chuckled amused, "I'm from Texas."

"I have never heard of such a place."

"It's further inland, are ya' from England?"

"No, I'm from the Shire. I have never heard of a place like that either."

The conversation ceased at that revelation, Jesse thought that perhaps the man was uneducated or mistaken but seeing as this place, its terrain and climate were wholly like nothing he had encountered before, maybe it was he who was mistaken... or sun sick.

The men travelled a few miles before reaching a brick-walled place, one of the small men knocked upon the wooden door. A hatch swung open and an old man levelled Jesse with a glare- "What do you want?"

"Uh, me and these men were hopin' to get outta the rain."

The old man looked around him and seeing no others, he closed the hatch. Jesse almost sighed disappointedly but then the wooden door swung open, and out came the old man, "Hobbits? Four Hobbits and a man? What business brings you to Bree?"

"We wish to stay in an inn, our business is our own," one of the short men stated.

"Alright, young sir, I meant no offence." He moved to let them in, and Jesse led Doc in after the Hobbits. "Talk of strange folk abroad, can't be too careful."

Despite the heavy rain, there were many people outside in the small town. Jesse made his way to leave the group, in search of stables, when one of the short men grabbed his vest, "Would it be possible for you to escort us to The Prancing Pony?" He watched as the group looked around warily at all the people who towered over them.

"I don't see why not. If 's an inn, I'll be headin' that way, anyway."

Quickly finding a stable nearby, he securely tied Doc inside and offered some coins in payment, the stable master eyed the currency oddly but accepted it.

#fanfic #fanfition #the lord of the rings #lotr #lotr fanfic #Tenth walker #lotr au #hobbits #cowboy #wild west #old west #male oc

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regulatedstrawberry · 11 months

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Tails' Solo Adventure - Prologue

Rating: T (But so far, it's reading as G) Summary: Tails decides to embark on his own journey, without Sonic. Takes place after the events of Sonic Frontiers. Chapters: 6/? (In-progress) Total word count: 5.4k Read the Prologue on AO3!

“Alrighty everyone, prepare for landing!”

After what had been hours flying above the ocean, and a pit stop at Angel Island to drop off Knuckles, Tails, the trusty pilot of the Tornado, began preparing for descent towards their home. In some ways, this was his favorite part about flying, after takeoff and maintaining altitude. Aside from the stunt of it all, it was nice to see the detail of the world below come into view - the sparkling waves of the ocean, and the outline of Green Hill, just in view. “Sonic, you might want to hold on!”

“Hold on?” Sonic, standing on the left wing of the plane, looked over at Tails with that charismatic grin of his. “But I’m having such a great time up here!” Playfully, Sonic spread his arms out in defiance. With the wind blowing through his quills, and the sun glowing against him, it was as if he had never been touched by the cyber corruption that had nearly taken him over just earlier.

“Sonic, be careful!” Amy pleaded from the passenger’s seat. While Sonic was quick to move on, for Amy, their adventure in the Starfall Islands literally just ended about five hours ago. Sure, they were used to saving the world by the skin of their teeth, but the last thing she needed was for Sonic to meet his end just because he was acting reckless. “You know there’s just ocean below us, right?”

“Eh, fiiine,” Sonic sighed, rolling his eyes but not really - he knew Amy was just looking out for him. With an easygoing smile, he lowered himself from standing to sitting on the wing of the plane, hands gripping the edge. “But even if I fell, Tails would’ve caught me, right buddy?”

Tails caught Sonic’s mischievous smile in a brief glance, before focusing on the skies ahead, keeping his eye on the nose of the plane. “Mm, if I felt like it,” he joked, shooting Sonic another glance. “Nah, I’m kidding- of course I would!”

The three of them laughed, as the plane flew steadily towards their island home. The air felt sweet with the scent of the ocean, the sun beginning to dip towards the horizon. This ending felt so good, Tails thought, that he wished he could stay like this forever.

---

After what was a solid four hours of tuneups, minor repairs, and refueling, Tails slumped himself into the chair of his workshop’s hangar, hands and face covered in sweat and grease. It was pretty standard routine after an adventure, but it didn’t make it less taxing.

Besides, he needed to make sure the Tornado was in tip-top shape before he left tomorrow morning. His duffel bag was packed with all the essentials — some food and water for the road, toothbrush, some advanced weapons, and a jacket just in case, to name a few. It was going to be one of his first adventures on his own, without Sonic, or really, anyone he knew.

In some ways he was dreading it. Was he really ready for this? The decision to call this off was tempting. But no, he needed to do this. He can’t keep relying on Sonic to save him forever. He needs to put everything he’s learned to the test, and see what he’s truly capable of.

The weight of it all was coming down on Tails as he sank into the chair. Slowly, he closed his eyes, letting out a deep, full body sigh. This chair felt softer, more comfortable than usual. He could almost fall—

“Hey Tails!”

Sonic’s voice rang out from the front of the hangar. It jolted Tails awake, as he sat up straight with his heart racing, a fox in the headlights. “Amy’s heading out soon!”

That’s right, Amy was coming up today to say goodbye. Not even four days after they’ve arrived back, Amy was headed on a road trip with Sticks and Cream towards Spagonia. Although, according to Amy, ‘We’ll see where we end up!”

“Coming!” Tails called out, pulling himself up from his chair. He quickly made his way to the sink in the back of the room, washing the grease off his hands and hastily wiping it against the towel, before heading to the entrance.

---

Under the midday sun, Sonic and Amy watched as Tails ran out to greet them. Amy was all set for the occasion, wearing a straw hat and neck scarf, accompanied by her hammer and a singular large briefcase.

“Tails!” Amy smiled, dropping the suitcase to approach him first. The two were quick to give each other a big hug — Tails could feel Amy squeezing him more than usual. “Oh Tails, I’m going to miss you so much!”

“Oof- I’m going to miss you too!” Tails’s voice was muffled, as he was getting crushed under Amy’s killer hug. Once she loosened her grip, he pulled away to look up at her sunny face. She really was like a big sister to him, in some ways. He wasn’t going to cry, because he knew they would see each other soon, but his heart was hurting just a little. “I hope you guys have a lot of fun! I wanna see all of your pictures!”

“You know it!” Amy beamed, her voice giddy at the taste of adventure. “We’re going to have so much fun.”

“Tell Sticks and Cream we said hi!” Sonic added, giving Amy a warm smile. “You guys are gonna have a blast. I’m excited for you.”

Amy smiled wistfully at Sonic, her shoulders lowering slightly. “I will, Sonic. Thank you.”

She walked over to give Sonic a gentle hug, and Tails could see Sonic look down in slight surprise. Then, after a moment, Sonic let out a small sigh, and put his arms around her lightly, reciprocating the gesture. It made Tails smile a little, knowing how awkward Sonic normally is to physical affection.

“I should probably get going,” Amy sighed wistfully, bending down to pick up her suitcase and hammer. “I told Sticks and Cream I’d be there soon to pick them up.”

“Don’t let us hold you back, Ames,” Sonic reassured. “We’ll see you soon.”

---

As they watched Amy drive off, Tails felt a pit in his stomach, realizing that this would be some of his final few moments together with Sonic for a while. He looked up at the hedgehog with a sad expression on his face. Sonic was like a big brother, having practically raised him. His heart was racing with anxiety, the thought of just ditching the plan taking over in his brain. Maybe Sonic would ask him to stay! And they wouldn’t have to say bye.

“You doing okay, buddy?” Sonic asked, snapping Tails back to reality. Sonic reached over to put a hand on Tails’ shoulder. “You look like you got something on your mind.”

“Yeah, I guess…” Tails looked down at the ground, his ears flattening. It was getting harder to speak. “I dunno.”

“Hey, look at me.”

Tails looked up to see Sonic with that same, warm smile on his face, although there was definitely something hidden behind it.

“You’re gonna do great,” Sonic said confidently, putting his other hand on Tails’ shoulder. “I definitely wanna hear all about your big adventure when you get back. I'm gonna miss you buddy, but I know you’re ready for this.”

Tails felt his eyes turn bleary. It wasn’t fair how easy Sonic was able to clock him, but Tails knew he wasn’t doing a good job of hiding it. “I know,” he sniffed, quickly bringing a wrist to his eye. “I guess— I guess I’m still kind of nervous,” he admitted.

“That’s okay,” Sonic reassured. “But you’ll be fine, I know it. It doesn’t matter where you are, I know you’re smart enough to figure out a way.” He put his right hand on Tails’ head, playfully messing it up a little. “And if you need anything, you can call me. I’ll be there before you know it. I promise.”

Tails laughed a little, feeling comforted by the gesture. He was going to miss it. “Thank you, Sonic,” he said, more strength in his voice. He looked up at Sonic, standing a little taller this time. “I’ll be so much stronger when I get back. You’ll see.”

“That’s the spirit,” Sonic grinned, giving Tails a healthy pat on the shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

Interested? Please give kudos and read Chapter 1 on AO3!

#sonic the hedgehog #tails the fox #miles 'tails' prower #sonic fanfiction #sth #sonic frontiers #sth fanfic

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primofate · 3 years

Text

Kinktober: Doing it raw for the first time [Modern AU] (Minors do not interact) Not SFW

Notes: And so it comes to this. I’m just jumping in >_> I don’t usually write smut but I guess I was in the mood?

Warning: gosh I don’t know where to start. no protection, rope play, breeding kink, overstim, size kink, praise kink, not proofread, giving head, established relationship. Pretty soft for Albedo and Diluc then it goes a bit hard for the others >_>

Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Kaeya, Tartaglia, Xiao, Zhongli x fem!reader

Juicy stuff below the cut

Albedo

Albedo was not one to push you into doing things. Even when your bodies were pressed up against each other, the warm touch of his bare skin on yours almost sticky, yet intoxicatingly so.

“Bedo, please,”

You whimper under him as he slaps his cock against your glistening folds. So pretty, he thought to himself. Even the subtle slap of his cock on your wetness was making him shiver.

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him easily, his stature might seem small but his work with the fencing sword proved him to be strong and able. He leans in to whisper in your ear, his tip lining up to your opening. “Ready?” His husky breath tickles your ear, but before you could reply, you can feel him stretching you open.

You close your eyes and throw your head back at how painfully slow he was going. You could feel every inch of him push through you and you hear him stifle a groan. “B-Bedo...!” you mewl his name, feeling him fully for the first time, as he does you.

“Shhh...” He whispers out, trying to concentrate on the tight squeeze of your cunt around him. Trying to ground himself. Trying not to just plow you through your orgasm. He bottoms out, his whole length buried into your damp hole. He looks down to see how connected the two of you are, face flushed into one of bliss. “...Beautiful, Y/N,”

Still, he’s calm. He’s calm as he takes his hand and starts rubbing on your sensitive nub. You jerk up and you clench around him, earning another groan. “T-Tight...” He pants, unable to wrap his head around the fact that he’s getting squeezed by you.

And suddenly, both his hands are on your waist again, he pulls out nearly completely, leaving only the tip inside and you lift your head up giving him a questioning look, until he thrusts his hips forward, sheathing himself in one swift motion. “A--aghh!” A strangled moan leaves your mouth as he ruts into you almost violently.

He can’t control himself. It’s different. His bare cock in you. “I-I can’t stop--” the bed creaks, his hold on your waist nearly bruising, pistoning himself. Grunting, groaning, hitting you in all the right spots as he hears you cry out “Mmggh! A-Albedo! There, right there!”

It’s like fuel for him, chasing his own high and yours. The friction on his cock is unreal. The wetness. The vice-grip. His head is spinning and you watch as he throws his head back in a beautiful moan. “Y/N...!” You watch as his hips continue in a magical pace, your hands suddenly gripping the bedsheets as you arch your back, reaching your orgasm before him, “-t’so good, so good! Albedo I’m cumming!” he thrusts a few more times, you can’t even feel him stiffen, just coming down from your high. He quickly pulls out and fists his cock, spurts of white shooting out to your stomach, grunting “Wish I could cum in you...”

He rarely says such things, but you grin when he does.

“How about for next time...?” you suggest.

Diluc

He’s a gentle lover...for the most part. But there are days where even he loses control as he stands above you, worshipping your body. How could he not? It was a divine gift from God. Every time the two of you tangled in the sheets, it was a little piece of heaven for him, just seeing you bare and open.

The moans that you give out are even more of a blessing. He loves to please you. Loves to hear his name in whimpers and in squeals. So, his first order of events is tasting you. Letting you cum on his face as much as he wanted, it wasn’t your choice.

Now he towers over you, your face already flushed out from the two orgasms he has licked out of you. He smiles at the look on your face, hair sticking to your forehead with sweat. He lays over you and starts peppering kisses up your jaw, stopping at your ear. “On your front, darling,” He helps you turn, your ass is now grinding against his hardness and he ruts into the smooth surface of your skin as he kisses your neck. He’s deliberately slow, but you’ve anticipated tonight for far too long. “Diluc, I want you...”

He chuckles behind you, but moves up, and prods your opening with his tip. “...You’re...extremely wet...” he whispers in awe. He could guess that you were a lot more excited today than usual. So was he, the tip of his cock seemed a lot more enflamed than usual.

He pushes in, there’s some resistance but he manages to slide it halfway.

SLAP.

You yelp as you feel his hand smack your ass. “Y/N... God-- Sorry, I--” It was just too good. It was entirely different from usual. You can feel his hands grip on your ass, squeezing it as he finally rests fully inside you. You can’t see it, but he shivers. The way your walls are clamping down on him is sending him to a high.

Slowly, he pulls out halfway and thrusts in again. His pace is mellow, but you can feel every inch of him all the same. His perfect cock curves in the right places, hitting you just as you like it. “Love you, Y/N,” He has his eyes closed as he says this, reveling in the feeling of your warmth. “Love you so much,” and yet his hands are gripping your ass tighter, his pace is quickening. The control he once had is slipping fast and before long all you can hear is the loud slap slap slap of his skin hitting yours.

The feeling is intense, your face smothered on the bed as he gradually drills into you. “Diluc! Diluc!” that’s the sound he loves. The sound of your fucked-out voice moaning his name. “Ohhh feels so good... your cock feels so good... Don’t stop!” you whimper as his hips thrust at the same time he pulls you down.

He grits his teeth as he groans, “Cu-cumming!” every thrust he sends you feels like fireworks in your tummy. You stiffen up as the pleasure you feel peaks, you moan into the pillow as you orgasm, a little embarrassed at the feral sounds you were making. “Mine, all mine,” he grunts as he bottoms into you, cumming deep into your walls, and collapsing on top of you, his arms barely able to keep him propped up. He kisses your shoulder as he comes down from his high, still grunting and panting until he slips out of you, spent.

“You’re a goddess, Y/N,”

Kaeya

There’s a red blindfold round your head, and your wrists are tied up above it. Kaeya watches as you squirm a little. It’s his favourite type of play, for a special type of occasion.

Your folds are already glistening for him, and although he didn’t tie your legs up he’s got them spread wide open with his strong hands. He’d been fingering you, getting you ready for his cock. “Please,”

Of course, he doesn’t make it easy. “Please what, love?” a smirk on his face that you can’t see. “Want you in me...” you whimper out, lifting your hips up a little in hopes that you would find what you were looking for. His cock on your folds. “Whose cock do you want, Y/N?” he continues to tease you with his hands, his finger running a circle around your clit, completely avoiding it. “Yours Kaeya, just yours, please...”

He chuckles at this moment, “Good girl,” and you can feel him shifting his weight, can feel him pushing your knees up to your chest in the breeding position. Then, without any warning, he ruts into you all in one go. “Oh my God!” you keen at the painful and sudden stretch, but a few seconds later as his length pulses in you, fills you up in every corner, stars erupt in your eyes. “More, please, more!”

You’re not quite sure how loud you’re being, but he’s in total bliss at the raw feeling. “Shit...That’s my girl,” he hammers into you relentlessly, almost painfully but the pain hurts so good. “This pussy’s officially mine,” he grunts as he fucks you out, the rough in and out earning stuttered moans from you. “You cumming, pretty?” his eyes trail down towards your pressed back head, open mouth wailing him praises. “Ohh yes, yes! S-So close!”

He crouches over you and presses your tied hands onto the bed, hips blindingly fast. “Mm, such a good pussy for me. Take it, take it all...” he starts to grunt more, head dipping lower into your neck as he feels the pleasure grip all around him. “Fuck,” he spits out as he stiffens, an animalistic growl escaping his lips just as you grip tighter around him and reach your own high. “Fuuuck, you’re so good, Y/N,”

He slips out, handfuls of cum spilling out from your hole as he leans his body over yours.

Tartaglia

“Relax babe, you’re always so good at this,” He’s laid out on the bed, arms behind his head as he watches you grind your clothed pussy on his bare cock. Such a sight for sore eyes. Your lids are shut, cheeks are flushed and your mouth open in silent gasps. “You like that, huh?” His smirk is obvious, thoroughly entertained, as if watching a show that was made just for him.

“Mmhmm...” You whimper, feeling your clit rub against his long, veiny cock. Your voice seems to spur something in him as he reaches out and pulls your panties aside. “Lift up,” he commands you and you follow, propping yourself up on your knees. “Go on now,” his shit-eating grin is almost teasing, but when you line yourself up on him, tip slipping past the tightness allowing you to fully sit on his raw cock for the first time, his grin disappears and is replaced with a strangled, guttural groan. “Oh shit,” his hands grab your hips and stills you, glues you to your sitting spot.

You watch with half-lidded eyes as he closes his eyes and struggles. “Oh fuck it’s better than I thought,” he inches his hips up a little, provoking a moan from you. “I-I like this better too...” you murmur. You can feel every vein on him, every curve and thickness rubbing against your walls. Slowly he takes his hands away and places it on his side, rutting his hips up, making you bounce slightly and squeal, a signal for you to start.

You waste no time in bouncing up and down on him, hands on his chest, balancing yourself. The only sounds in the bedroom is the slap of skin on skin, your wanton moans and his animalistic growls. “Y/N, fuck,” one of his hands grips your thigh, he can feel his cock grow warmer, feel the knot in his stomach tighten. He’s nearing his orgasm and he can’t keep still anymore.

He starts plowing up against you. Your bouncing is now fueled by his hips and not your own accord, you scream at how rough he’s going, how his dick kisses your cervix with every hard thrust up. “So deep! More, don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop” your words string together and are hardly coherent. He takes that as a sign to keep pulling your hips down just as he thrusts up, somehow, one of his hands manage to rub at your clit despite all the bouncing and you tighten up almost immediately.

“Childe!”

“SHIT!”

The two of you scream out at the same time, reaching orgasm mere seconds apart from each other. You collapse on him, and he wraps his arms around you. He takes a few seconds to recover before he flips you over onto the bed. “...You can’t expect me to just go one round... I’m addicted now...”

Xiao

“You want to do it...without this?”

He already has the condom in his hand, and you’re laid out on the bed prettily. “...I’ve been taking birth control instead,” those words has him on top of you in seconds. He’s kissing you fervently, the bulge in his boxers seem to keep growing. Xiao is well-endowed and you know it from the countless times you’ve taken him deep in your throat.

“I love you, you know that? If you don’t want to it’s okay,”

“I want to,” the words between kisses are fast and heated. He wants to make sure you’re alright with it. He seems gentle now, but the truth is he’s insatiable in bed. He has a hunger for you that doesn’t end. As with any other session, he preps you for his cock with his fingers. One, two, up until the third one stretches you out so well and good that you start asking for more. You start asking for him.

“Xiao...Want your cock..”

He takes his fingers away and rubs your wetness on him, hoping that the slight lubrication would make it easier for you today. But it’s never easy with him. Every time is like the first time, the painful stretch of his massive girth, the way you feel so full even when it’s just halfway in.

“C’mere,” he pulls you easily towards the edge of the bed and instructs you to flip over, your ass is hanging on the edge and he thumbs in gently, positioning himself into your damp hole and slowly pushing in. “X-Xiao! S’too big... too much!”

Dear Gods the sensation is a hundred times more intense. He doesn’t even hear you talking about how big he is, he’s lost in the velvety folds of your cunt, in the way your walls stretch out to accommodate to him. He doesn’t answer you and he’s lost in the pleasure, pulling your hips back to make you stretch out all the way and take him all in. “XIAO!”

You feel like cumming just from him being all the way inside and truthfully he feels the same. He’s afraid he might cum in just a few pumps, so he takes it slow, reaching in front of you to play with your clit, to ease up the stretch you feel. “A-Ah! No! Too much!”

You start to squirm as his fingers find the sensitive nerves. This time, he hears you and replies. “Shhh... You’re doing well, Y/N,” his fingers rub faster circles on your clit and finally, he feels that he can move a little better now as you keen and rut your hips against his hand. “That’s it...” he whispers and starts at a demonic pace. He can’t help it, it’s too good. “I won’t last long, Y/N,” but you’re already at your orgasm, you’re already reaching your second, his fingers still relentlessly rubbing on you. “The best, it’s the best!” you moan and he watches as your ass bounces on his big cock. “Mmmrghhh... Fuck, so fucking tight,”

His last few thrusts are brutal. Deep, strong and forceful, until he freezes and unloads inside you with a groan.

Zhongli

You look at him as you finish up your blowjob. You see him looking down at you on your knees, obediently bobbing your head up and down. Today though, he doesn’t let himself finish in your mouth. He pulls your head back gently and looks you in the eyes. “...Y/N...Let me make you feel good,”

He gathers you in his arms and places you on his office desk, the papers are strewn around on the floor already. He kisses you hungrily, hands roaming up and down before settling on rubbing you through your underwear. “Zhongli...” He’s a lot stronger than he looks, and this time he pushes your legs apart, his cock is right at your entrance, just waiting for his pushing motion. “Last chance to say no,” he mutters and you answer with a lewd “Fuck me raw,”

He pushes through the muscle of your opening, groaning as he does so. “Gods, Y/N, you’re tighter than usual,” he doesn’t hold back. He knows you can take it and fucks into you rough. He picks you up in his arms as he fucks you and your legs wrap around his waist automatically. He’s making you bounce on his cock at a vicious pace. He can hardly steal a glance at his cock as it disappears right back into your hole. “Zhongli, c-cum in me,”

You wrap your arms around his neck, as if trapping him. Something snaps inside of him at your words and he maneuvers you onto his office chair and starts pistoning inside of you, his hands gripping the arms tightly. “O-Oh my God. Give it to me, pleasepleasepleaseplease,”

He’s never been this rough before, and you wonder if it’s because of what you said or the fact that he’s doing it raw. He isn’t a very vocal person but today he promises to give you his all. “This.is.all.yours.” he says in between hard thrusts. “Take it all, Y/N, take it--” he stops talking when his pleasure cuts him off, fireworks going off in his head and he shivers on top of you. He growls under his breath and suddenly slaps your cunt, right above the clit and your jerk up with a howl. “FUCK!”

All of a sudden he’s starting again, he’s fucking into you hard even through your orgasm. “Oh shit! Li! fill me up!” You’re shuddering under him, body out of control at the sheer amount of pleasure he’s giving you, his fingers continue to rub and tap on your clit. “C-Cumming! I’m cumming! OH ff-”

You feel him stop inside of you, and by his low groans you can tell that he’s released his thick strings of cum inside. You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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