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therhythmafterthesummer · 10 months

Note

Is there any wr Chris Drabble that you can and want to share maybe perhaps

🙏🙏🙏🙏😭 * not in a pressuring way but in a I love this installment and can’t get enough way* feel free to ignore if not!

you know what??? sure! this is a fluffy one that i haven't had a reason to post, so i'll use this ask for that skdjfhskjdf

just fyi i've got a couple horny ones in the works, but they're still not complete 😭 so this is all i can offer for now. hope you enjoy~

Pairing: Werewolf!Chan x Human!F.Reader (one of the main pairings of my WereRoomies series. you don’t really need to read any other instalment to understand/enjoy this piece). | Word Count: ~1k | Themes & Warnings: fantasy/supernatural AU · fluff | established relationship | descriptors of the reader such as: being chubby · pet names · a bit suggestive, but it’s fairly tame · this is barely proof-read, so please bear with me

minors do not interact.

> Chris💕🐺: hey pretty > i know we said we were gonna go on a date tonight > but i dont think ill make it baby im sorry :(

< You: aw 🥺 < it’s ok darling < we can go out some other time

> Chris💕🐺: ill make it up to u > i promise

It wasn’t uncommon for your boyfriend to come home late at night. He’d always come through the door complaining about how they were behind on their sprint, or how one of his co-workers deleted hours worth of coding in a single click, or how the entire platform he worked on crashed and they needed to spend overtime fixing it… It worried you sometimes, but it’d become such a natural occurrence at this point it didn’t faze you anymore.

You felt like Chris didn’t even need to promise to make it up to you, you knew he would anyway, but you figured he always felt the need to set his words in stone. Sometimes he’d make it up to you the very next day, sometimes it took him weeks, but he always did, which you appreciated immensely.

By ten in the evening you just knew Chris wouldn’t be home before midnight. He always told you to not wait up for him, that you needed to rest, too. But you found it incredibly hard to fall asleep comfortably when he wasn’t there, so you’d either toss and turn for hours, or you’d drift in and out of sleep until he made it to your bed.

You vaguely registered the front door of your flat opening and closing, just like you vaguely registered the muffled sounds of your boyfriend’s steps around your home until you started to hear the shower. Stretching your limbs a bit, a tiny squeak left your mouth, and you reached for your phone to check the time.

One thirty in the morning.

With a sigh, you locked your phone again and turned to lay on your other side, bringing one of the extra pillows between your thighs for comfort.

You laid there for a while, waiting, until you heard the shower stop completely. You honestly expected your boyfriend to open the door to your bedroom right then, but instead, all you heard was silence. In normal circumstances, you would’ve let it go and gone back to sleep, but as it was, you really wanted to see him, so you got out of your shared bed, rubbing sleep from your eye with your fist as you opened the door and left the room.

Only the small lights on the kitchen were on, but they provided enough illumination to see Chris. He was sitting on the sofa, with his elbows on his thighs and his hands buried in his hair.

As soon as you walked closer, he looked up. With a small smile on his lips he gave you a “Why are you up?”

You yawned, shrugging.

“Sorry I woke you up, pretty”, Chris mumbled, taking a hold of your hand as soon as you were in front of him.

Shaking your head, you placed your free hand on Chris’ shoulder, pushing him just enough to lay back on the sofa so you could straddle him and comfortably settle on his lap. With his arms around your waist, he pulled you flush against him, just as you buried your face in the crook of his neck, mumbling a very sleepy ‘S’okay’ against his skin.

Burying one of your hands in his damp hair, you gently massaged his scalp while bringing an arm to rest on his shoulders so you could pull him close to you as well. Chris hummed, and you felt him relax under the soothing motions of your hand.

Over the years, you’d come to read your boyfriend’s body language quite well–or at least you liked to think so. When he was quiet like this, you could tell something was weighing heavy on his mind, so you’d made it a habit to ask. “Wanna talk about your day?”

Chris remained quiet for a moment, but he still moved his arms from around your waist to bring a hand under your shirt and rest it on the small of your back, while the other cradled the back of your head. After a few moments, he just shook his head, and you hummed in understanding.

You both stayed there like that, quietly enjoying your warmth for a while. Until you finally pulled away from his neck and cradled his face in your hands. Chris just leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and heaving a sigh.

He was clearly refreshed from his shower, but you could still see the bags under his eyes, and the small frown on his face. You knew it wasn’t directed at you–or at least you hoped so–it surely had to do with whatever happened at work, so your first instinct was to lean in and press a kiss right where his eyebrows furrowed.

A small smile spread on his face, and his frown seemed to have disappeared when you finally pulled back. With a smile of your own, you leaned in again to press a kiss on his forehead. Then his nose, each cheek, and finally, his lips.

Chris’ lips moulded to yours, kissing you slowly, holding you even closer to him. He was so warm, and the feeling of his fingers caressing your lower back and the ones burying in your hair to angle your head to the side the tiniest bit was quickly igniting the flame of need deep within yourself.

After a few moments of kissing, you rolled your hips. You couldn’t help it, he was right there, touching you, existing, and your body just naturally reacted to him.

Chris tensed with the movement, and he immediately brought his hands to your hips to still your movement.

“Baby…” Chris pulled away from your lips with a sigh, an incredibly tired sigh. “I’m–I’m not…”

It was rare for Chris to not be in the mood for sex, but it did happen every once in a while, usually when he was not only incredibly exhausted, but also worried about something. So you simply smiled at him, dragging your thumbs over his cheeks as if to soothe him. “It’s okay, baby”.

Chris sighed again, looking you in the eyes. His eyebrows were drawn together once again. “I’m sorry, pretty. I’ll make it up to–”

“Baby”, you interrupted him and squished his cheeks, forcing his lip into a pout. “It’s fine. You don’t have to make anything up to me”.

“But–”

“I’m serious”, you pecked his lips, and offered him a smile after. “Don’t go all toxic alpha on me now, hm? It’s literally fine, babe”.

Chris chuckled, and he pulled you down for a brief kiss. “I love you”.

“Love you, too”, you replied simply, relishing the way Chris’ body relaxed under you again. “Now… Sleep?”

Chris looked at you for a moment, mulling your words, until he eventually spoke. “I’d like to… kiss some more…”

You leaned in, not quite pressing your lips to his yet, but close enough so every word made your lips brush against his. “How much more?”

Chris held you tighter. “A lot more”.

So you hummed, right as you finally connected your mouths in a deep kiss.

This was one of Chris’ moods sometimes. He’d just want to hold you, kiss you, rile you up with no real prospect of sex. And you’d lie if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

His plush lips against yours, his teeth tugging your flesh, his tongue brushing yours… Chris was an amazing kisser, and you could honestly spend hours just doing this. Hours of his hands roaming your back, of the satisfied hums and moans spilling from his mouth, of the wet sounds your motions produced.

Of course it made you horny, of course it made him horny… You could feel his hardness under you, enticing you, but being honest, kissing felt just as satisfying regardless. You liked that you could have these moments with your boyfriend, where you could somewhat keep things intimate, but rather chaste–as much as french kissing a werewolf could be considered chaste…

“God, I missed you so much”, Chris mumbled, digging his fingers on the soft flesh of your waist, under your tee.

“Me too, baby”, you mumbled back, barely even disconnecting your lips from his.

You couldn’t really tell how long you spent there, sitting on his lap and ravishing his mouth, but eventually, he pulled back, looking you in the eyes as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ears.

His pupils were so deliciously blown, his lips all pink and plump, slick with your spit, and you were sure there was wetness making contact with your core, even with the thin fabric of his sleeping shorts separating your bodies.

“You’re so pretty”, Chris wrapped an arm around your waist, and he cupped your cheek with his free hand. “So pretty and mine. My pretty girlfriend…”

You chuckled, looking at his droopy eyes. “So are you, darling”.

“Mmm…” Chris leaned in again, kissing you briefly.

When he pulled back, you placed your hands on his bare shoulders. “Sleep?”

Chris nodded. “Sleep. Hold on tight, baby”.

As soon as you looped your arms around his neck, and with a firm hold on your thighs, Chris stood up from the sofa, taking you with him and walking languid steps to your bedroom, switching the kitchen lights off on the way.

As soon as he stepped into your room, Chris gently placed you on your feet so you could take the few steps left to the bed.

He placed a quick kiss on your cheek once you were both tucked under the covers. He pulled you close to his body and laid his head on your chest, letting out a sigh of relief once you buried your fingers in his hair and started massaging his scalp.

It was silent for a while, until you started to hear–and feel–the barely audible rumble coming from your boyfriend’s chest. It brought a smile to your face, and, soon enough, you fell asleep as well.

tagging everyone that wants to be tagged in my wereroomies instalments. if you don’t want to be tagged in little ask responses like these let me know ! If you want to be added to the tag list, you can fill in this form. be aware that you must have an indication that you’re an adult in your blog if you want me to tag you in my works

@staaa96 · @oiminho · @dundullresident · @straylightdream · @biribarabiribbaem · @100layersofdaddyissues · @alexis-reads-fics · @xcookiemonsteer · @knowleeknow · @ven-fic-recs · @liminaldaydream · @bintificreads · @notastraykid · @princelingperfect · @violetpenguinkris · @leedunno · @peepeepoopooharrie · @aestheticsluut · @skzhomiehopper · @mimzibee @hipsdofangirl · @djeniryuu · @floatingcoffecup · @minnysproutgriffinteddy · @moonmooncr · @toplinehyunjin · @goblinracha · @viviixlyy · @casualenthusiastexpert · @kileidoscope · @kpop-bbdoll · @meloncremesoda · @amaranth-writing · @fawnpeaks · @dalamjisung · @abcdefgiwsmcty · @jaiuneamesolitaiire · @goatpeople · @lilramennoodle · @vitrealisbunny · @stayconnecteed · @iadorethemskz @kalihien · @junebug032 · @cecepop15 · @meowmeowhoon · @poutypoutybin · @chai-papa · @seo--changbin · @yeetfellx

#stray kids supernatural au #stray kids fantasy AU #stray kids werewolf au #bang chan fluff #stray kids fluff #stray kids fanfiction #bang chan fanfiction #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #chan x reader #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #werewolf chan #werewolf bang chan #✨🌙✏

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fatuifucker · 1 year

Text

mockingbird

[art cr: korusakku on twt]

soft dom dottore x sub frail! childhood friend! gn reader

SUMMARY = your condition has improved ever so slightly, so you ask your husband to have sex with you

WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader receiving), protected sex (condom usage), praise, aphrodisiacs, belly bulge, use of dottore's real name, use of pet names "dear/dearest", prostitution mentioned as a joke, slight aftercare

W/C = 2.3k

A/N = dotto is softer here because I would think he would act this way to a childhood friend who has always supported him unlike everyone else :) this au was inspired my own thoughts but I did find these lovely creators who have similar aus (@/bye-bye-sunbird and @/fatuismooches) so check them out if you like dottore content like this! ty to my beta readers this time round (@child-of-plut0, @fluffyganyu, @xiaoflwrs despite your dislike for ttore) and ofc, merry christmas and have a happy holidays!

TAGS = @edenialucas, @fluffyganyu, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @teallapril

“Zandik, when can we have intercourse?”

It is an unexpected question, that’s for sure. One that catches the enigmatic doctor off-guard. “My, I didn’t expect such a vulgar request from my meek spouse.”

“It’s natural to possess carnal cravings towards one’s own husband, is it not?” you say, avoiding his inquisitive gaze. “And you said that you’ll have intercourse with me again when my condition betters.”

Through his bird-like mask, he sweeps over your frail frame, deep in thought.

“Your segments have done an excellent job in taking care of me,” you add. “The medicine, schedule, and diet you’ve prepared for me have also worked wonders in improving my condition. That is why I’m bringing it up now.”

Zandik’s chest rumbles as he lets out a short chuckle. “I must say, I’m flattered that you’ve been thinking of us in such an…intimate way these past few days. Or was my previous performance that exceptional that you’ve been yearning for my cock everyday since then?” You feel your face heat up like a burning candle. Smirking, Zandik turns his attention to a locked drawer, pulling out a key from one of his pockets. “Nonetheless, I admit that you’re not the only one with such ravenous desires.”

Your spouse places a vial in your hand; one that you recognise to be the familiar medicine curated just for you. Cursed with this incurable illness, you know that you have to stay indoors for your safety’s sake. There are days that even the slightest movement could cause a flare-up in your immune system, causing you to be bedridden with several tubes connected to your body. You know it’s for your own good, but the loneliness and longing doesn’t subside.

Ever since you were a child, you would draw scenarios that you wished to experience. Drawings of you playing with other kids, drawings of your family congratulating you for your admittance to the Academia, drawings of you and Zandik graduating together. Only one of those drawings became reality. Either way, it became a hobby for you to express yourself when you’re stuck in this mundane room while he is busy with his Fatui business.

The perceptive husband he is, he notices your longing for the outside work and conjures up a solution in the form of a drug that could alleviate your condition. Only for a few hours, but you wish you could have tackled him into a hug the first time he presented the drug to you. Unfortunately, the medicine has its side effects. Thus, it can’t be consumed regularly and has to be administered by Zandik himself; not by any of his clones.

You look up at your doctor for permission before popping off the cork and downing the liquid. There’s a carbonated burn in your throat, one that you can’t seem to get used to no matter how many times you ingest the medicine. But you do feel your strength ever-so-slowly returning to your muscles and limbs. Not that strength was ever ‘yours’ to begin with, having it snatched away from you the moment you were born.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

“I feel more energised than when I usually take it.”

“Good, good, it looks like the enhancements worked,” he hums, looking pleased as he discards the outer layers of his clothing.

It’s shameful how your core instinctively heats up in anticipation. You haven’t seen him naked in, archons, how long has it been now? The more recent occurrences were not for carnal reasons. Rather, for simple romantic intimacy. Mere skin-to-skin cuddling to make up for the lack of sexual intimacy. This is the first time in who knows how long you’re actually going to have sex with him again.

You’ve been fantasising of this day. For you to feel better, for your health to improve so you can feel him inside you again. But now that it’s happening, it feels like a miracle, an unbelievable, lifelike dream that you don’t want to wake up from.

“As today is a special occasion, we can try a little something that I’ve been saving for a day like this.” Even with his mask on, you feel Zandik’s piercing crimson eyes staring right through you, observing the quick rise and fall of your chest as he takes off his gloves with his sharp teeth. “A little potion meant to heighten stimulation, though you’ll be more accustomed to the term…aphrodisiac.”

“Oh yes pleeeease, doctor,” your words coming out in an almost moan.

Removing the bottom half of your clothing is a breeze, thanks to your airy nightwear. It’s strange that your body is always either too cold or too hot. Thankfully, your sensitivity decided to work in your favour tonight and has chosen the latter.

A shark-like grin spreads across the harbinger’s half-covered face. You wonder if it’s from arousal. Or delight that you’ve regained some life in yourself. He doesn’t make any indication to your internal query and instead pours another vial — one containing a bright pink liquid — over two of his fingers. He presses one of the lubed-up fingers against your hole, and you feel the tension around it, no thanks to your minimal experience. You remind yourself to follow Zandik’s teachings to slow down your breathing.

Your hole relaxes, and the next thing you know, you feel the finger penetrate the opening. Your body instinctively tenses up again, but the lube around his finger makes the intrusion bearable.

He didn’t want to hurt his poor, flightless bird, after all.

It didn’t take long for him to procure the first of many blissful moans out of you. The doctor plays you like one of his many laboratory instruments; his expertise in the workings of the human body coming into play as he rubs you in your most sensitive spots. You're squirming, panting as your hands cling onto your husband's shoulders, and you feel your lower half burning hotter and hotter. With little effort, the harbinger manages to draw out a second noise out of you; a mouse-like squeak that accompanied the arch of your back.

Hot air brushes against your ear, your body shuddering as he lets out a husky laugh. "It seems that the aphrodisiac is working as intended."

His lips — chapped and rosy pink from the Snezhnayan air — graze the shell of your ear, teeth delicately nibbling on the body part. He likes doing that; biting you, that is. When you were younger, you thought it would just be a temporary bad habit. A weird quirk of his destined to fade away after he grew up. Fast forward now, it seems that stabbing you with his razor-sharp teeth is just one of those things he isn’t growing out of.

Not that you mind this cute little quirk of his.

You're snapped out of your sentimental musings by the intrusion of a second finger. Thanks to the aphrodisiac, your hole is loose enough to accept it without too much give or pain on your end. The pads of his fingers rub against your sensitive walls, furling and unfurling his thick fingers that fill you up, aiming at your weak spots. His ministrations switch between scissoring and finger-blasting. It feels good, so deliciously good but–

"Zandik." A cold breeze picks up the timid, inaudible whisper of his name. "I want more."

Instead of a condescending laugh, the usual mockery that would be directed at any other person that dare voice out their opinion to the callous doctor, you feel a pair of chapped lips trailing kisses down your jawline. "Of course, my dear. Anything for you."

The weight that was pressing against your thigh eases off you, and you have to remind yourself to swallow the saliva gathering in your mouth when you notice the tent in Zandik’s pants.

Zandik puts on a show for his precious, sickly patient, peeling his belt and pants off his toned, rugged body ever-so-slowly. A wet patch darkens the front of his navy boxers, and your hole clenches watching him pull out his thick, hardened cock. He bites onto the edge of a condom wrapper, tearing it open with his teeth. He carefully puts it on himself, making sure it is thoroughly lubricated by the aphrodisiac before aligning his dick to your hole.

"Hold onto me, dearest."

You do as told, automatically tightening your grasp on his shoulders when he pushes himself in. You can already feel yourself clamping around the tip, but it isn’t enough. You’ve been anticipating this day for months. You need more. Sensing your lust, Zandik smirks to himself as he increases his speed, opting for shallow thrusts to get you used to the stretch. Despite the wintry environment, your clothes feel stifling, suffocating even, so you silently thank Zandik when he starts taking off your upper layers to peck and nib at the skin. Yet with your body exposed, it feels like every touch from his cold hands sears your skin, sending fire down to your stomach that’s scorching you from the inside out.

“Look.” You follow Zandik’s line of sight, right to where he’s resting his palm: on the sizeable bulge of his cock that protrudes your tummy. “It’s all the way in.”

“Ah…it is,” you mutter, splaying your hand on the bulge.

“Doesn’t this take you back to the first night of our honeymoon?" Zandik locks his hands with yours. In the corner of your eye, the metal band around both of your fingers catches the glister of the light, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. “I can never forget the look in your eyes when you realised how far I stretched this tight hole of yours.”

“I’m ashamed to admit that my memory has deceived me,” you giggle.

He cups the side of your face, leaning into you for a kiss. Both of your lips meld into one as you exchange saliva and body heat, wanton moans slipping in between kisses. Zandik snaps his hips forward, fucking you with the tenderness of a lover yet with that typical Dottore-like vigour. Even through the thin plastic around his cock, you feel him twitching and throbbing inside you. Big hands grab onto your thighs, thrusts becoming frenzied as balls slap against the plushness of your ass. A whimper worms its way out of your throat, the sensation of his cock moving in and out of you sending you into delirium.

The harbinger hears his given name pour out of your lips like fine wine, and Zandik growls at how sweet your voice sounds, calling out that accursed name. Funny. It seems that he, too, has forgotten the riveting melody that is your voice, strained with lust for him and only him. And oh, how it provokes the hungry beast within him. You’re the only one who can affect him in such a way. It’s you and only that can make this almighty harbinger give into mortal pleasures.

"That's it. You're doing so well, my dear,” he coos, leaving a string of kisses from your collarbone up your neck.

“Wait.” Time comes to a standstill when you place your hand on the doctor’s chest. “Take off your mask. I want to see your eyes.”

The 2nd Harbinger obeys the request, revealing crimson irises that stare into his beloved’s adoring eyes. A pair of hands cusp his cheeks, bringing him forward to look into the eyes of his dearest spouse.

“Just like garnets.”

Those hands pull him into an open-mouthed kiss. Zandik calms the flutter in his chest by shoving his tongue into your mouth, pushing the muscle against yours. Neither of you spoke for a while, enraptured in the flavour and sensation of each other. Yet, the room was anything but silent, the wet and messy sounds of skin slapping against skin deafening all meaningless noise.

“Zandik, I’m close…” you mewl.

Zandik curses under his breath, his fingertips digging into your thighs. “Good. Let it all out, my dear. Don’t you dare hold back.”

Your body spasms as it reaches its peak, walls clinging onto the cock ploughing your hole as if it doesn’t want it to leave. The sudden tightness causes Zandik to cum soon after, groaning out your name into your mouth as he ejaculates into the condom. He pulls out his dick when he feels it start to soften, taking off the condom and tying it into a knot. You lay there in silence, about to shut your eyes and catch your breath when you feel something sticky slap against your stomach.

“Wha–”

Zandik chuckles, “A few more rounds with these and I bet you would look like a seasoned whore.”

“That’s not something you should say to your spouse.” You playfully pout, making no effort to take condom off you.

As much as you are raring to go for another round, the intensity of that fucking has drained all the energy out of you. You can’t even move to kiss him again even if you want to. Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself a moment of respite as the sounds of shuffling passes by you. Peeling an eye open, you see Zandik holding out a glass of water in one hand, adjusting the angle of your body with the other. He tilts the glass to your mouth, and you slowly gulp down half of it.

“Any abnormalities?” he asks after setting the glass on the table.

You shook your head. “None. I want to go again.”

“Hmm…not yet, dear.” The Doctor couldn’t help but laugh upon seeing your expression. “Oh don’t give me that look. We have plenty of time tonight after you recover.”

You grumble, knowing that he is correct as always. Although you crave his hands to touch your sex again, your fragile body is beyond exhausted. It would take a while for you to recover and catch your breath again. But like he said, the two of you have the whole night to yourselves.

#genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #dottore x reader smut #genshin dottore smut #dottore smut #genshin dottore x reader smut

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springdaybreaks · 1 year

Text

score a date | l. jn.

how the captain of the hufflepuff quidditch team managed to score a date with a certain ravenclaw.

tags: hogwarts!au; hufflepuff!jeno x ravenclaw!reader; fluff; tiny bit of angst if you squint

note: another self indulgent piece that has been burried for months in my drafts😀 this one's a short one but the amount of plot holes makes me want to bang my head against a brick wall lol. no warnings besides inconsistent grammar and tenses.

so, lee jeno

everyone took one look at him and thought he'd be sorted into gryffindor

they may or may not saw him telling haechan to stop annoying renjun and smacking haechan for annoying him, so-

but the sorting hat sorted him into hufflepuff

his parents said it make sense that he's been sorted into the house

he's a hardworker and is loyal to the ones he's close with

he doesn't really seem to be ambitious, but he actually is!

he just doesn't chase after it like slytherin!haechan

the professors adore him

he's always offering them his help

not to gain their favor or save face but purely because he's just that kind

"professor sprout, let me carry that bag of soil for you"

“professor flitwick, do you need some help distributing the feathers?”

snape has kind of a soft spot for him since jeno came early most days for his potions class just to help set the cauldrons

when he doesn't have quidditch practice or urgent tasks he'd even stay behind to clean them sometimes

but of course snape would rather die than admit it

his friends told him to join the tryouts for the quidditch team on their second year as a joke

jeno: okay (.◜◡◝)

but he really got in

becomes hufflepuff team's beater along with the third year lucas

got chosen as the team captain in his fourth year by the hufflepuff head boy, taeyong, before he graduated

he's just THAT good

we all know he loves animals

so it’s natural that he takes care of magical creatures as his elective

and excels at it

even though everyone says hagrid kind of sucks at teaching

he’s sad that he couldn’t see the thestrals though

also it's not all weird that jeno wants to become an animagus

that's why he works extra hard in transfiguration

and mcgonagall loves him so🥴

people thought jeno is all brawns and no brain

but his grades are almost all outstanding

with some exceeded expectation and a couple of acceptable

he's quite smart actually

is dubbed as the 2nd cedric diggory because he’s handsome, athletic, and smart

but of course being friends with the dreamies, it’s chaotic sometimes

he's been slytherin!jaemin's friend since they were kids

but somehow became quite close with ravenclaw!renjun ever since he helped him to deal with slytherin!haechan back in their first year

and he shared a train car with slytherin!haechan on their first day

haechan loves bothering jeno, but became fast friends with him because they have the same tastes in games

everyone at hogwarts know them as the dreamies

a group of girls likes them and call them dreamies because they're "dreamy"

very original

but they don't mind being called that so-

when you see one of these four, the other three wouldn't be too far behind

although they have quite different tastes and interest, they get along well

jeno has this friendly rivalry with haechan over their quidditch games

they bicker a lot, but haechan would be the first one to defend him if someone speak ill of him

no one does

doesn't take muggle studies, but would get muggle music recommendations from jaemin who took it

and sometimes you can hear him humming along the latest muggle music

hangs out with renjun if he wants to relax and just enjoy the day

renjun invites him to paint together once every few weeks

and he thinks that it's nice he's friends with renjun because he'd make them do their homework together

doesn't really go to the library except for rare study times and looking for his cat

he doesn't read the school's rule book but he's pretty sure students can't bring their pets to the library

but his cat can be quite mischievous and would disappear often

sometimes she'd be walking next to him one second and gone the next, following merlin knows what

his cat is probably still very curious of the place since he's only got her last year

and that brings us to you

you are one of the smartest ravenclaw in your grade

some even said that you're the brightest student in hogwarts after the legendary hermione and doyoung, the ex ravenclaw prefect and head boy that graduated a few years ago

of course you're smart, your muggle iq test could attest to that

but you always pair it with hard work

although people do call you snobby sometimes just because you wouldn’t do their homework for them

it pisses you off sometimes because you declined because you sincerely want them to learn!!! and be able to use the knowledge in the future!!!

you don’t mind though

bc being smart has its perks, like how people won’t bother you being a half-blood

and somehow the professors doesn’t mind that you don’t use a quill to write

except for snape

you’re used to the muggle world so pens and pencils are more convenient

but just for compromise, you use a fountain pen your father got you instead

anw

you were trying to get your homework done before supper, opting to do them in the quietness of the library rather than the currently crowded ravenclaw common room

jaemin somehow got into the ravenclaw common room and is currently on a raging whining spree bc the house elfs in the kitchen won’t give him coffee with 8 shots of espresso in it

you can hear it across the common room

at least the library is always quiet

so there you are quietly working through your homework in your favorite corner in the library; where it was quite hidden from madam pince and always got just the right amount of sunlight whenever the weather's nice

you’ve been at it for quite some time so you’re stretching your body

and then you feel a furry thing rubbing against your legs

you don't know whose cat she is

but she often follows you in the halls when she manage to escape from the dorms

and somehow slips through the unpleasant madam pince

but she appears quite often these days

at first she'd be sniffing you

and then she started curling up near your chair

when she found you again after not seeing you for a few days, she begins rubbing herself against your legs, asking for rubs

and proceeds to make herself at home on your lap

you just let her be

and continue doing your homework while occasionally caressing her fur

it's been a few weeks of this happening but you still haven't found out who her owner is

but one day you were just doing your homework as usual with the cat curling on your lap

and you hear a rather loud sigh nearby

"bongshik, there you are!"

you look up and

there stood lee jeno

of course you know who he is, but it's not like you know him

you know that he's doyoung's favorite junior ever

and currently said to be one of the best quidditch players in hogwarts

and he and his group of friends got enthusiastic following

but being in the same house as his friend and mutual friends, you feel like you know him already

you hear things about him quite often bc you're friends with jaemin and renjun

and jaemin sometimes boasts that he has couple items with jeno

not to mention they almost go everywhere together

like twins

some of the professors even got their names mixed up sometimes

but now jeno's alone and is staring at his cat curled up in your lap

"oh, is this your cat?"

"yes," he sigh, "i've been looking for her everywhere"

you handed the cat over as he come close

"sorry if she's been bothering you"

you stroke her head and she purrs in content

"it's alright, she's just been keeping me company. she's a sweetheart"

well that's a surprise

because bongshik isn't really a super friendly cat

it even took like a week for her to get comfortable with jaemin, who's been friends with jeno since they were kids

"she must really like you then."

after that, whenever he realize bongshik's gone missing, all he had to do was find you

because wherever you are, bongshik's probably trailing after you

even when you're not in the library

one time jeno was just about to eat supper when he spot his cat walking in the great hall

but instead of walking to him, her owner, bongshik walked to you

when exam season's coming up, you find yourself holed up in the library almost every day

and jeno, who's always looking for his cat, found bongshik curled up next to you every. single. day.

and somehow, he got lazy of worrying and finding his cat

besides, it's getting closer to exam season

so he starts doing his homework with you in the library

he does it almost every day that he got questioned by his friends

when his friends learned that he's been holed up in the library, they weren't exactly surprised

because jeno's probably the smartest out of them

but they know there's something else going on

bc even though jeno's really smart and he likes to read books on his own,

he's not the type to stay in the library for long periods of time nor every single day

like he's been doing for the past week

so haechan-

being the mischievous little shit he is

persuaded renjun and jaemin to spy on jeno one day

even though jaemin refused and told him to let him be

and well oh well

they found out he's been hanging out with you

jeno thought you'd be teased endlessly by haechan and instinctively lied

"oh they're just helping me with some tricky spell for charms! anyway, thanks, y/n!"

you two weren't that close but it kind of hurt that he doesn't want his friends to know that you two were friends

if that's what the two of you are

anyway

somehow jeno's lies of you helping him with homework got around school

and now you have a few people asking you for help for theirs

you told them you'd gladly help them as long as they don't make you do them

so now even some underclassmen come to you for help

quite a lot that you had to make a time-dedicated study groups

"well it'd be nice to get paid for teaching you guys, a sickle for each session wouldn't hurt"

you really said it as a joke

but some underclassmen really paid you for your help and it spurs the others to do the same

but even as you decline to take their money, they somehow managed to slip it into your bag or intentionally left it behind near your work station

your favorite underclassman gryffindor!jisung even snuck in a few candies to the library for you

ever since you managed to turn tour tutoring sessions into a small 'business', of course you see jeno less and less

but you two still greet each other in the halls

and library, whether when he's looking for bongshik or just doing his homework

one day you were running late to your session

jeno was seated not far from where you usually do it

and heard some of the girls in it talking about you

"merlin, if i'm not failing in charms and defense against dark arts, i wouldn't have to ask y/n for their help."

"yes well, i had to act like i like them just to get into the tutoring session too. what a inconvenience."

"they even charge us for this! other people doesn't even charge and just help us with it"

"yes, she's such a bitch too. you know she refused to help at the start? and now she only do it because of the money"

it's not really his business

but he feels annoyed and kind of riled up to hear them talking bad about you

and he really heard from jisung how you always declined their money and how you were just joking about the fee

but people just paid you nonetheless and eventually you were too tired to decline because they kept insisting

jeno's annoyed and packed his things

he'd rather do the rest of his homework in his dorm than here with their chatter

but when he passed the shelves behind the tables, he saw you

standing there clutching your books

merlin, you must've heard them

but you just sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile

even greeting him before coming over to the designated tutoring spot and apologizing for running late

somehow the sight of it makes his blood boil even more

and admiration, really, because of how kind you are

the next time you saw jeno again was before his match when the crowded halls made you two bump into each other

"oh, i'm sorry!"

"sorry!"

"oh- it's you."

"i- yeah. hey. how are you?"

jeno mentally smack himself for sounding stupid. as if he doesn't know you, as if he didn't spend time with you for weeks in the library. as if the thoughts of you don't plague his mind

somehow he developed a crush on you

and now he's gonna make himself look stupid

you shrug, "eh. so so. kind of busy because of the tutoring though."

you eye his quidditch uniform and the broom clutched in his hand.

"match day?"

"yeah." he hesitated before asking you, "you coming to watch?"

you tilt your head in confusion, "me?"

oh hell, he is in so deep for you. how could you look cute looking confused like that.

jeno feels his ears warming

"well, i am talking to you, aren't i?"

you raise your eyebrows in surprise.

"huh."

now it's his turn to be confused, "what?"

you just shake your head and laugh

"didn't know you could sound like a jock, lee."

"come on lee!"

his teammates are waiting for you at the end of the corridor. lucas are wiggling his eyebrows at the two of you with a teasing smile. haechan, who have somehow blend in with his team, shoots him a teasing look

as if to say 'mhm, i knew you liked her'

jeno ignored them and turns to you instead

"so will you come?"

"mmmm, i dont know. what if you suck?"

you teased

well- you know you are kind of flirting rn but ssssttttt

jeno's eye light up in amusement

and challenge

"you gonna give me anything if i win?"

you shrug nonchalantly, well- tried to, "i think you already have everything you want, captain. don't think i can give you anything else satisfactory."

a smile tugd the corner of his lip

"what about a date then?"

your eyes snapd to his in surprise.

"i- you... date? what?"

"yeah. a date. with me. next hogsmeade trip?"

you gape at him stupidly, "you want to go on a date with me?

he laughs, "well, i wouldn't be asking you right now if i wasn't."

"hurry up lee!"

his teammates roars. although some did snicker when haechan made kissy face at the two of you

"so, what do you say?" he keeps his eyes on you

"you want me to say yes?"

"badly."

a shy smile tugs your lips

hell jeno would take haechan's relentless teasing any day if it meant you'd give him that smile again

you steel yourself and look at him in the eyes

"then i guess you better win, captain."

#nct dream imagines #lee jeno imagines #nct imagines #nct dream scenario #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #lee jeno fluff #jeno fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno angst

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thesparklingwriter · 1 year

Text

to love and to care

“It’s probable that your cooking would simply exacerbate my condition further.”

tags: pet names, Zhongli is very pure, soft Zhongli, fem!reader, Zhongli and reader are in a relationship, Zhongli has somehow fallen ill, reader is forcing him to take care of himself, he's fairly obedient in this-its very odd, i had a blast writing this, reader cannot cook lol

masterlist | ao3 link | taglist | next

once again, everyone say thank you rin for this chapter :)

Usually, Zhongli wakes up before you and busies himself with tasks that distract him until you rise from your heavy slumber, but not today.

You’ve woken up later than usual, and Zhongli is still sleeping, clad in his winter pajamas in the middle of summer. He can’t be cold–he almost never is, so what gives?

“Li? Are you alright?” You ask, creeping around the bed to get a look at him. Is he playing a prank on you?

“Good morning, my love,” He croaks. You almost fall in surprise as he sneezes daintily. You put your hand against his forehead, surprised to realise that he’s burning up. Do gods get sick? You ask yourself. You come to the conclusion that you do not know at all.

“You’re burning up,” you mutter. “I think you’re ill.”

“Don’t be absurd, love. I’m perfectly—” Zhongli’s reassuring words dissolve into a fit of coughs, and you run to the bathroom to hand him a cup of water. He gulps it down gratefully, thanking you afterwards. “I’m perfectly fine.”

“No, I’m not having that. Don’t move.”

“You’re being very dramatic,” Zhongli wheezes, trying to sit himself upright.

“Don’t. Move.” You repeat, and he obliges this time. He’s surprised by your sudden assertiveness and relaxes into the bed. It’s just as well—he feels like death warmed up, though he would never admit it to you.

“What are you doing?” He asks you as you dig through the bathroom cabinets, searching for a spare flannel. What do you even do when a god is sick? But then, Zhongli’s in a human body, so it should be the same as usual, right? And so, you decide you’ll do the usual. Warm soup, cold flannel, and a day of bed rest. That should work, right?

“Just be quiet and sit there. Don’t even think about moving a single muscle.” Zhongli chuckles to himself. You don’t talk to him like this very often. It’s a strange experience for him.

“That’s not particularly nice of you.” He complains as you come back with the cold flannel, resting it against his head.

“I think I’m being plenty nice.” You quip back, brushing his wispy hairs back from his forehead. “Or should I have left you to suffer?” You lift the corner of the flannel up lightly, and Zhongli seems to feel the difference immediately.

“You’re being wonderful, my love. The epitome of kindness.” He concedes, and you let the flannel rest against his head properly again, running your hand softly through his hair. That’s two things off your list: forced bed rest and a cold flannel. The last thing involves cooking—but to be completely honest, you don't want to move from this little setup you have going. Every now and then, you feel guilty for how much you rely on Zhongli. How much it feels like you never quite give him as much as he does you. And despite the fact that he vehemently opposes any notion of that nature that you voice, you still feel a little bad. Just a little.

“So do archons really never get sick?” you ask him. He pries his eyes open to look at you.

“Are you mocking me?”

“I would never do anything like that. I’m simply asking you a question. Is that permitted, good sir?” You tease, lowering your head in a way that’s meant to represent a bow of some sort.

Zhongli sighs. “Yes, it’s permitted. And no, we do not. At least, I did not, until I crossed paths with an overexcitable adventurer, who, despite being the strongest being I’ve ever had the pleasure of associating with, is always somewhat ill.”

“That’s a really long winded way of insulting me.” You scowl, pressing a kiss to the side of his forehead. He seems dissatisfied by that, but doesn’t voice it, settling for a gentle hum instead. “I’m not going to kiss you, no matter how much you sulk. I don’t want what you have.”

“You wound me.”

You ignore Zhongli’s antics, even though you find them mildly amusing. It fuels your ego to remind yourself that the man currently sulking over the fact that you won't kiss him was once the god of war, a being feared by many—even monsters.

“Are you hungry?” You ask him.

Zhongli closes his eyes and shakes his head. “Not if you’re cooking.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“It’s probable that your cooking would simply exacerbate my condition further.”

“Morax.” You fix him with a stern glare. He may be right, but that does not grant him the right to insult your culinary skills (or lack thereof). Especially when you only wanted to help him out.

“Yes, darling?”

“Stop being such a baby.”

“I object to such insults.” He replies, shivering slightly. “I suggest that we order something.”

“And who is going to make that order and collect it?” You drag the light sheet on your bed up to his neck, sliding under the sheets yourself. He’s much colder than normal, so you press your body against his in the hopes that you can warm him up a little. He smiles gratefully, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I can’t trust you to stay in bed whilst I go. I certainly can’t trust you to just teleport to Wanmin and come straight back. And there’s no one I can ask to help without leaving the house.” Zhongli hums lightly.

“I could always request aid from Xiao.”

“Stop using your surrogate son as an errand runner.” You sigh, pulling away to look at him properly. “You really need to learn your limits. You’re not in a god’s body any more. When’s the last time you ate a vegetable?”

“My body doesn’t utilise nutrients in the same way yours does.”

“It does now, Rex Lapis.” you tease. “I mean, when’s the last time you slept for longer that six hours? Or properly relaxed? You tell me to work less but work yourself to the bone instead.”

“Yn, I’m not a—”

“If you say you’re a god one more time, I’m going to take the steps necessary to remind you that you aren’t. If anything, you should be working less than I am. You’re new to this whole thing….” You continue on, unaware than Zhongli isn't listening to single word you say.

“My love, are you finished lecturing me?”

“Am I finished lecturing you? I’ll tell you when I’m finished lecturing you. You need to take better care of yourself or you’re going to die. And I don’t know what I’d do if that happened.”

“You’re as dramatic as always. Dearest, gods don’t—”

“I despise you sometimes, Zhongli, I truly do.”

“The simplest way to oppose hatred is through love.” Zhongli smiles weakly. “I suggest we take the steps necessary to neutralise these emotions you’re feeling.”

“If I give you a kiss, will you promise to take better care of yourself?”

“If you give me a kiss, I promise to take better care of myself, and of you when you inevitably contract whatever it is that I’m suffering with.”

“Deal.”

a/n this is not spell checked do not mention anything to me i am tired and hungry and will check everything over tomorrow

#[🐉]—sponsored by rin #tswzhongliflufftober #zhongli #zhongli fluff #zhongli x reader #zhongli flufftober #genshin fluff #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact #zhongli fanfic #flufftober2022 #ao3 fanfic #genshin fan fiction #fluff

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moss-selfship · 8 months

Text

Day 4 pet/zoo

When one thinks of a garden that has animals, a normal person would think of it maybe having butterflies, or perhaps birds, maybe a fish pond here or there. These would be the normal kinds of animals you would find in a normal park, But the Great Cat’s Village was FAR from a normal place and the crocodile garden was far from a normal garden, in fact this place was just as strange as everyone and everything in this strange world. Where one would expect to find small ponds with some fish, maybe some frogs and a duck or two. Instead were large ponds filled with massive crocodiles, hundreds of them littered the banks of the ponds through the garden. The wooden walkway above the ponds zigzagged and snaked all throughout the garden. The garden served as both a standard garden as well as a massive crocodile zoo. And today john had decided to take neco arc around and show her how the daily feedings and care for the gators goes. “I don't know how or where the Ahnenerbe gets shipments of meat but George has helped hook me up with various meats to give the crocs a proper diet ranging from chicken and beef to fish and birds.I want to make sure they always have good diets.” John said as his pint sized partner followed him along the trails.

“Look at my pretty boy being attractive AND smart, of course i'd pick the best partner it's only natural.” Neco arc said, placing her sunglasses on and swirling her glass of wine before taking a sip of it as she trotted along behind her boyfriend before tossing the glass aside, the distinct sound of glass shattering as they continued on. “This pond has the largest croc we have here at the garden, safe to assume due to his size he is also the oldest as well. I've named him Sarge.” John said motioning towards a massive crocodile that was napping close to the walkway that happened to be missing one of its legs. Neco arc looked at the mighty reptile. “Well well sarge, from one powerhouse to another its a pleasure to meet you!” Neco arc said, holding out her hand towards the reptile past the walkway that was still napping on the beach. When the gator didn't wake up neco arc let out a huff of annoyance. “You know it's rude to ignore a powerful cat like myself!” She said angrily as she started to make her way towards the crocodile before John quickly scooped her up and started carrying her away. “Darling please don't try and fight the crocodiles in the garden, I need to take care of them and I don't know how resistant to beams they are.” John asked, patting neco arc on the head as he put her down, she crossed her arms and huffed. “Fine, but only because you're my pretty boy…still you should teach that lizard some manners!” John sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “How bout this, lets head to Ahnenerbe and ill pay for us to get some food, how's that sound?” John said smiling down and holding his hand out, neco arc smiled and took it. “Burenyuu! It's a date.”

link to the prompt here

thanks to @huntinglove for making this

#melty love #my writing

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jegmegoganne · 2 years

Text

Damn it

I remember the first time I met Jack. He was the first person to tell me I was beautiful without expecting anything from it. He was easy to talk to. So sweet. So kind. I could literally feel he had a big heart just from the way he looked at me. We developed a natural connection. We even talked about pet rabbits.

My friends said I looked like I was going through heartbreak or heartache the two weeks after I met him. I was so sad I didn’t know when I got to see him next.

But I saw him a few months later, when I finally got my ass on a plane to London. It was early in the morning and I was grinning the whole way. I originally only planned on seeing his band but added an extra day to my “vacation” to see another band I absolutely loved.

Anyway. He recognised me right away. I was in the front row, because of course I was. And he was just as magical as I remembered him being.

After the gig he spent a long time talking with me. That night I remember I was so happy. He was shirtless but that’s not why I was happy. I was happy he remembered me and that he wanted to spend time with me.

We shared an extremely intense moment that night. It was so intense the security guards turned their backs to us so we could have some privacy. We didn’t do anything about it but we knew we both wanted to.

That was the last time I saw him. By that point I was sick with cancer without knowing.

I didn’t see him for four years.

I finally saw him last night.

The people around me in the crowd didn’t believe me when I said I knew the opening act. They didn’t even think I had good taste in music. ...how dare they?!

Jack waved at me from the stage and gave me one of his best smiles. He knew how sick I’d been and we’d spoken the night before (and a few days before that too).

When the gig was over, a random old British guy tried to hit on me so security let me out back stage. And that’s when I spotted the other members of Jack’s band outside, and I got out there extremely quickly. I talked with the bass player and he was so sweet I couldn’t stop smiling. I asked him to get Jack for me and two minutes later he came jumping out the door yelling “Found ‘im!”

Jack gave me the biggest, warmest hug. We stood there just holding each other for the longest time while saying “mh” and “I love you”. And he kissed the top of my head and my cheek. And then we talked for a long while about everything and nothing. It was so nice. Like coming home somehow.

But now I’m stuck feeling the same type of sadness again. I have no idea when I’ll see him next. Brexit sucks. Cancer sucks. Chronic illness sucks. He’s a champ for touring with Crohn’s just so we’re clear.

I was told afterwards that a few girls had come out because they saw him outside. They were jealous. Whispering so no one could hear what they said. But like... he’s my friend. One of my favourite people. And no one can understand unless they meet him and experience exactly how good and sweet and kind he is.

Jack is very special to me. And in another universe, it would be us. We’d take over the world with all our weird poetry and punk inspired songs. And it would’ve been amazing.

And I realise now that my friends were right. This is what heartache feels like. A heartbreak feels less painful than this.

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suicidal-bitch-countdown · 2 years

Text

The world without Alisha

Some of us are never meant to live too long.

Look at the sunshine, listen to the birds sing, watch the water's waves, touch the grass. Live in harmony with nature. All while this planet hasn't been ruined yet.

But some people, let's call them demons, kill that vibe, mess up the natural order of things, and it's best if they are eliminated. Earth becomes so much a better place without them. You will see. World without Alisha will be amazing and your troubles will end.

I wasn't even meant to be here. My Parents considered aborting me, and started their series of fatal mistakes by choosing to keep me after all. A duo unfit to raise any kid, let alone a vulnerable one. They hurt me badly, and doubt ever realised the true extent of it, even though I vocally cried out many a time.

When the timeline gets disrupted in such way, the natural order goes out the window, and everything around that afflicted person goes wrong. Don't tell me you haven't noticed.

I had to live with it, daily reality of it putting so much guilt and self hatred upon me.

Questioning sense of life and my purpose since my teenage years, I've concluded that I am a nobody. A piece of nothing who must earn her right to oxygen and taking (stealing) this planet's resources. And often failed to, making me a mere parasite and oxygen thief.

That's why I tried so hard to be a good person, do useful things, and help people.

But when you're unable to help the one you love the most, that's when trouble starts.

I guess how much I love Her may be incomprehensible to most people. Doubt it is for Her. But that's Love for you, it's beyond any bounds, rules, and you're only a fool to try to stop it. I should've when I still had the chance in the early days, but I was addicted to the feeling too much, and only fell more day by day, like an avalanche.

There's nobody I hate more in this world than I hate myself. I have so much love to give because I've got no love left for me. I could not ever love myself, the mere thought alone makes me feel sick, and brings Narcissus to mind, that arrogant prat who fell in love with his own reflection. That could never be me, and I went out of my way to avoid being branded as selfish. It didn't always work out, because people are often unable to distinguish an aspie's struggle to relate to other people from egocentrism.

And that brings me to my next point, how many mental afflictions can one suffer from? Autism, Depression, Emotionally Unstable (Borderline) Personality Disorder, ADHD, Complex PTSD, and heck knows what else?

It's clear somebody as troubled as me has no place in this society. I don't and never will fit in. Every day is different suffering. Nobody can come close to understanding me.

The only person I thought was close gave up on me. Thought I was too negative and bad for Her healing and mental health. She had to put herself first. And I can't blame Her, and neither should you.

I am putting Her first too. And myself last. Because that's how it works. Natural order of things. Love is about sacrifice.

And trust. She once told me I am one of 3-4 people She truly trusts. So to go from this to where we are now, is beyond crushing. It goes to show what a disappointment I am. I scared Her off and that's my fault. I must pay.

It's exactly a year ago when I've had my mental breakdown, self-harmed and tried to overdose on painkillers. This failed to physically kill me, but the aftermath sure killed me emotionally. I was called a liar and manipulator. What She thinks of me is all I care about, other people's views do not hold as much weight, sorry. If that's how I made Her feel, then I must be all these things. A monster.

This year I will do it properly.

I won't let Her down.

If She thinks She is better off without me, the only true way to get rid of me is to kill me.

Don't try to stop me. Would you deny a terminally ill cancer patient euthanasia, would you refuse to put down your suffering sickly pet? This is no different. Sadly humane ending of life is outlawed in this country. In Netherlands a severally mentally ill girl was given a chance to leave in dignity. Sadly I won't, so must take matters into my own hands.

Take responsibility for your actions and words, this is what I'm going to do.

I told my Love I cannot live without Her, and meant it. I also apologised to Her over what I'm going to do, strongly hinting suicide. I will not tell the woman I love the most that I'm going to kill myself, torment Her that way, and then back out of it. No, that's not in my code of conduct. I'm not allowed to break the word I gave to my Love. This is the only way we can both be free. Her, a world without me to haunt Her. And me, not feeling anything anymore after all the suffering I experienced being cut away from Her. I cannot take it anymore.

Whatever potential people claimed I had, would've never been realised anyway. Not in my mental state. Which never truly seems to calm down. There's no way of saving somebody this damaged and scarred.

There's also nobody in this world who could ever take my Love's place. Even mere idea that somebody could ever substitute Her is beyond insulting. There is only one. I don't want anyone else. Anybody else would just be a creepy Poundland clone. I don't settle for second best. There's nobody in this world coming to close to what She is. I'll never find anyone better. Not that I want to, no. I could never be with someone I don't love. And my love, when true, is eternal. And time has shown my feeling did not fade away. Quite the opposite, it got even stronger as I slowly come to terms with what and who I lost.

I'll never forgive myself for letting Her down.

The only right punishment for that is death.

I'm sorry if I've let any others down too. But then again, what to expect. A waste of space was never going to deliver. Trust me, you'll all be better off without me.

Family too. I was the black sheep anyway. Chasing women more than men, something that'd boil most Poles' blood. Clearly something mentally wrong about her if she was so queer. A shame in the family it's best not to talk about. Main purpose of granting a grandchild failed.

And somebody like me shouldn't ever breed anyway. Just imagine! Passing on all the ugliness and defects down! The mental illness!! Imagine suffering from all the stigma. Setting up yet another child for failure just like she was. That's unfair. No child should ever go through with what I have.

So I'll make sure nobody with my genes is brought into this world.

But hey, I am ending my life today.

So smile. It'll be over really soon.

Hopefully is by the time you read it.

And if I failed again, I'll do it again. And again. Until I succeed. There's nothing else left out there for me.

Goodbye.

Welcome to the world without me.

Enjoy

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messers-moony · 3 years

Text

Moony Wants, Moony Gets | R.L

Paring: Young!Remus Lupin X Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Summary: Moony has a natural wanting for his mate making his possessiveness visible the closer it gets to the full moon.

He was always jealous. Blame it on the wolf in him, if you will, but Remus Lupin was highly possessive. Especially over what’s his - maybe not even what’s his but what he wants. She was gorgeous and his perfect mate—long tuffs of h/c hair and gleaming e/c eyes that glittered in the limelight. There was one problem with her, though—one major flaw in her mess of perfection.

Y/n L/n, cunning, ambitious, resourceful, and charismatic.

That was the problem. Y/n was a Slytherin, and Remus was a half-blood Gryffindor. To make matters worse, her closest friend was Regulus Black - Sirius Blacks brother. Remus’ best friend's brother. But Remus couldn’t help it. Her voice was like a siren's call, and her beauty was a rival to Aphrodite, but she had the wisdom of Athena. Y/n was a perfect balance of everything.

Closer to the full moon, his possessiveness became more of a problem. Sirius was noticing the low growl that would erupt from Remus whenever someone stepped close to Y/n. James saw the lingering glares left on any male within a six feet distance of her. Even Peter observed his green eyes turn a shade darker as if someone mixed black paint into his usually bright eyes.

Y/n sat at the Slytherin table, a cup of coffee beside her as she spoke intently with Regulus. Meanwhile, a Gryffindor across the Great Hall was glaring daggers at the younger Black brother's head. Sirius nudged him, grabbing his attention.

“Mate, you’re growling again.” Sirius whispered, and Remus’ cheeks turned pink, “Am not.”

James gave an unconvincing grin, “Mhm, totally.”

“I was not growling.”

“I think you were.” James replied, “Definitely was.” Sirius added.

Remus sighed, pushing his plate away to lay his head on the table, “What’s got Moony all wound up?” James queried, Remus, deadpanned looking at the laughing girl across the room.

“I think I know.” Sirius simpered, “Do you now? Don’t be a tosser.” James stated teasingly.

“Turn around. Slytherin, talking with Reggie.”

He turned and looked back at Remus with his jaw dropped, “No- fucking- way.”

“What?”

“She’s the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team, you tosser!”

“Oh…”

James snorted, “Yeah, oh.”

“Looks like Moony found his mate.” Sirius winked, and Remus groaned, “Shut up about it, will you?”

“Never.”

It felt weird. James wouldn’t shut up about how brilliant Y/n was, how the Slytherin’s Quidditch team was able to make plays that no one else would’ve even thought about. Sirius wouldn’t stop offering to talk to Regulus to see if maybe he had any intel on her. Strangely enough, Peter was silent but had a guilty look on his face. Guilty sufficient for Remus to comment.

“Why do you look guilty, Wormtail?” Remus inquired, and Peter's cheeks flushed pink, “She- Y/n isn’t- um….”

“What do you know that we don’t, Peter?” Sirius queried, his voice harsh, “She isn’t what you think. That’s all I’m saying.” Peter stammered out nervously.

James tilted his head at the blue-eyed boy, “And you know this how?”

“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Woah! Hold on a second!” Sirius exclaimed in shock, “When did this happen?!”

“Back in fourth year.” Peter informed, “She seemed nice enough until you start to get serious with her. Y/n’s sharp-tongued and extremely ill-tempered.”

Sirius sniggered, “Sounds like Moony.”

“Oi!”

“Sorry!”

“So, what does this mean for Remus?” James questioned further, “It doesn’t mean anything. Just be careful. I don’t care if you date her. Means nothing to me.” Peter replied, putting his hands up in innocent.

Remus stared at Peter with curiosity swirling. How much did he truly know about Y/n? How did he manage to date her? Nonetheless, it didn’t mean anything to Remus because Moony wanted her. What Moony wants is what Moony gets. Later that evening, after prefect patrol, he padded into the library to dismiss any working students. But there were only two students inside. They sat in a secluded corner of the library. Regulus Black and Y/n L/n.

Was it envy? Was it jealousy? He didn’t have time to ponder. Y/n had her head laid on Regulus’ shoulder and both her arms wrapped around his one arm. Regulus had leaned his head on top of hers, wavy black hair intertwined with her h/c hair. Both their eyes were closed, apparent they were asleep—potion and Transfiguration books placed on top of the wooden table along with an open sketchbook.

What was he supposed to do in this situation? Wake them up? If it was just Y/n, perhaps he could’ve, but Regulus was with her, and Regulus wasn’t too fond of Remus for being friends with his older brother. Madam Pince had already left for the night, either choosing not to disturb them or didn’t notice them. Remus saw the inkpot beside the Potions book, almost empty. It was Y/n’s inkpot because the ink wasn’t black. It was a deep grape color.

Remus sighed and grabbed the ink from his bag, charming it the same color. Discretely he took hers and swapped it out with his. Leaving a piece of parchment on top. Remus left the library without another word. Waking them up was a risk he’d rather not take. But now, he laid in his bed wondering how she’d feel about the new ink on the table.

The sun began to rise, and Y/n’s body felt stiff. Carefully she began to stir awake after noticing a body beside her. Opening her eyes, everything seemed blurry, but after blinking a few times, she recognized the library books and the person's scent beside her. Regulus, her best friend. Y/n yawned and pulled away from him, about to begin packing their belongings, but she noticed a piece of parchment that lay on top of her ink.

“Noticed you were out. You can have mine.“

Y/n hummed appreciatively. She didn’t know who gave her their ink, but she was eternally grateful for them saving her a trip to Hogsmeade. Y/n poked at Regulus’ right side, and he eventually stirred awake. His curls disheveled and his body just as stiff as she was. Regulus opened his eyes and met her e/c ones.

“Did we fall asleep?” He groaned, and Y/n scoffed, “What do you think, dingus?”

“No need to be mean this early in the morning, Merlin.”

“Someone saw us last night, though.” Y/n stated, and Regulus noticeably jumped, “Who?”

She shrugged, “Not sure, but they left me a new pot of ink.”

“Lucky you.”

“Lucky me.”

Both best friends cleared their table. Y/n put her Potions books away, and Regulus put his Transfiguration books away. Y/n stared at the writing on the parchment she had received earlier that day. The handwriting was almost unrecognizable. It was messy and sprawled. Whoever this was did not have good handwriting or was in a rush. But the day carried on. In Potions, Y/n sat in the front while the Marauders sat in the back. Remus stared holes in the back of Y/n’s head.

“She’s gonna notice if you keep staring at her like that.” Sirius muttered.

Remus sighed and continued to write his notes. If he tried hard enough, he could make out her elegant purple ink from here. It always baffled him why she chose purple over traditional black - suppose it wasn’t really any of his business, but he couldn’t help but wonder. The familiar sketchbook sat on top of the desk as well; he could see doodles in the same deep purple color. Occasionally Regulus - who sat beside her - would nudge her to pay attention, gaining an annoyed groan.

Potions class always smelt weird. It was a mixture of glue, seaweed, and salt. It was also constantly humid. It brought shivers down Remus’ spine. He noticed it doing the same to the Slytherin girl at the front. Remus craved nothing more than to wrap his robe around her, but he was too late. Regulus was already doing the action, which earned him one of her jaw-dropping smiles. Unconsciously he began growling again. This time, James smacked his arm.

“Mate!”

“Sorry…”

Dinner was even worse. Y/n had yet to remove Regulus’ robes leaving him in a button-down white shirt and the usual uniform. Sirius was surprised at his younger brother's chivalry but didn’t speak much. The full moon was that night, and as dinner progressed, Remus only gained more possessive. James and Sirius gave up on trying to scold him. It was apparent Moony wanted - no - needed her. Slytherin captain be damned, Y/n was going to be Moonys.

A dry winter night. As usual, Remus walked to the Whomping Willow with his three friends following him. Tonight was normal in the sense of his friends turning into their animagus,’ but the odd thing was letting him out of the shack. The werewolf and the dog ran around the forest together. The rat and stag lagging behind, allowing the two animals to play together. But a stick-breaking brought the attention of the werewolves to the new person.

He could smell them. Hear their blood running through their veins. Their heart pounding at a standard rate. The dogs barking could be heard, trying to distract the werewolf. The scent was female, and she wasn’t scared. Instead, the girl approached with confidence sticking out her hand to the wolf. Padfoot barked loudly. Prongs backed down, looking nervous. Wormtail squeaked loudly. But she came with confidence and assurance.

Moony growled, “Shh, shh, it’s okay.” She cooed, “You’re safe with me.”

The h/c haired girl knelt on the grass, “No need to be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Moony hesitantly put his snout in the girl's palm, making her grin. His fur was soft to the touch, and his eyes turned soft. Her smile was beautiful, and Moony nuzzled his hand into her soft palm. She chuckled and patted him more. Padfoot barked excitedly and ran to her, but the werewolf started to bare his teeth again.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m yours.”

The wolf seemed to calm down at her words allowing Padfoot to approach her. Smiling brightly, she pet both animals, “It’s okay, love.”

“My name’s Y/n. I didn’t know that there was a werewolf here.” Y/n greeted as Moony curled up beside her, his head on her thigh, Padfoot doing the same on the other side.

She caught sight of the other two animals and whistled for their attention, “C’mere.”

Prongs and Wormtail approached nervously, but Moony gave no sense of protectiveness. Y/n’s words resonated in his head over and over again, “I’m yours.” The wolf fell asleep beside her, Padfoot doing the same. Prongs approached, and Y/n patted the top of his head. Wormtail sat in front of her knee. They seemed at peace. It was the first time Moony ever felt at ease. They’d be lying if it didn’t make them happy.

Y/n stayed up all night with the animals. Despite the animals not knowing, Y/n knew that the stag, rat, and dog were animagus’. The werewolf was unknown to her. The following morning when the stag turning into James, rat into Peter, dog into Sirius. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to find out who the werewolf was. When he turned back into a human with his clothes tattered. Y/n continued to run her fingers through his hair as he slept.

“Morning, Marauders,” Y/n commented.

“You’re- you-“ James stuttered.

She laughed, “Apparently, your moony really likes me.”

“Would you mind petting me again?” Sirius teased, “Maybe.” Y/n retorted, winking.

Sirius laid down on her other thigh that Remus wasn’t laying on, smiling; she ran her fingers through their hair, “You’re a godsend, lemme tell you.”

James and Peter sat in front of Y/n, “What made you want to take a walk in the forbidden forest last night?”

“Just wanted some air.” Y/n answered.

Remus groaned and began pushing his head onto Y/n’s hand, “Morning, Remus.”

The Marauders and Y/n had never seen him jump up that fast, “What- you- I- uh-“

“Didn’t know you were a werewolf.”

“I- uh…”

“Sirius, for the love of God, get off her lap.” James interject, slapping the boy on the head playfully, “But it feels so good.” Sirius drawled.

James grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the grass. In the process, Sirius got a mouthful of dirt and grass, “You wanker.”

“Did I- erm- hurt you?” Remus questioned shyly, “Nope, I'm completely unscathed.” Y/n smiled reassuringly.

Remus turned to his friends, “Nope! Y/n saved us all.”

“Are you hurt?” Y/n inquired to Remus, who took a quick look at himself, “I- I don’t believe so….”

Sirius blew a raspberry, “Thank Merlin! Dragging you to the hospital wing is bloody exhausting.”

Silence filled the forest until Sirius smirked, “You know, mate when you were talking about Moony wanting her. I thought you were joking. Turns out you weren’t.”

“Oi!”

“Oh, Merlin…”

Y/n chuckled, “Well, Moony is rather cute if I’m honest.”

Remus’ cheeks blasted with pink, and Sirius laughed. James shook his head with a big grin, and Peter looked amused with Y/n’s confession. Without hesitation, Y/n leaned over to kiss Remus’ cheek, making him hide his face flustered. She stood up and ruffled Sirius’ hand, gently rubbing her nails across his scalp, making Sirius try to lean into her palm. They all stared at her except for Remus, who was equally embarrassed and flustered.

“If you’re looking for a fifth Marauder, I know the Slytherin common room password.” Y/n winked as she walked to the castle.

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caroldantops · 3 years

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note from silver: this was not written by me but my lovely 🔑 anon!!! I had zero involvement and am just posting on their behalf ❤❤❤❤❤❤ and i would just like to say omg. omg its very good. so all praise should be directed at them!! [but u can send my way and ill post so they can see :)]

nothing i do better than revenge.

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

w/c: 2.8k

***= time skip

cw: 18+, mentions of cheating, brat reader, mean natasha (comes with her own warning), mdlg, mommy kink, d/s themes, choking/breath play, impact play (face slapping & spanking), crying kink, face riding, strap on use, orgasm denial, degradation, pet names, implied legal age gap, strong language

you had long forgotten about the consequences of what you were about to do, because all you cared about was revenge. you knew they were cheating on you, with someone you didn’t even care to think about. but it didn’t matter right? you loved them, or you at least did. the only advantage you had right now was that they had no idea that you knew.

you approached their house and braced yourself for what was likely to happen. you weren’t there for them, no. their mother, natasha, was always incredibly sweet to you, arguably too sweet. but you could hardly say you cared. you felt the effects she had on you every time her eyes lingered on you, every time she was obviously making excuses to be close to you, to touch you, every time she called you “honey, angel, sweetheart” your heart sped up so quickly, it made you dizzy. you had known for a while how you felt about her, it was obvious. but naturally you pushed it away, of course you did. at least now, what you truly wanted makes for perfect revenge.

“hi sweetheart!” natasha said excitedly when she saw it was you at the door. walking through her house, you heard her call out “they’re not here, is that okay? you can wait for them if you want.” you attempted to resist her offer, but it was quickly followed with her worry and fear that something had happened.

“they cheated on me,” you finally admitted. natasha’s shoulders dropped as she let out a sigh. “i’m so sorry, honey. if there’s anything i can do-“ you quickly cut her off, trying to change the subject to anything but them. “it’s okay, honestly. i’m not even here for them.” natasha raised an eyebrow at you as she leaned against the kitchen counter, “oh? then who are you here for, sweetheart?” she responded, smirking at you. ”oh, i, uh-“ you started, struggling to explain. natasha walked over to you and grabbed your chin to look at her. “come on, y/n, tell me why you’re really here. i know you didn’t come all this way to talk.”

in all honesty, you didn’t know where to begin, but you knew there was no getting out of this, “i just noticed some things about you, things you do” you felt natasha smirk at you again. “oh yeah? and what do i do, sweetheart?” you let out a nervous laugh at what seemed to be her favourite pet name. “that, you call me things like that and you always stare at me- i just thought-“ you felt natasha move impossibly closer to you, “such a clever girl, aren’t you? did you figure that out all by yourself?” she chuckled at the way you responded, all flustered and blushed. something in you couldn’t stop ranting before it came out, when it did, it was too late to backtrack. “i just- i think about you a lot, i can’t stop actually. i can’t stop thinking about touching you and-“ the words came out so quickly, you could barely make sense of them. “so,” she began. “let me get this straight, you came all the way here in hopes that i’d fuck you?” you could try and deny it but you knew it was pointless. you knew exactly what you wanted and so did she.

“would it be so bad if i did? you asked so softly, you doubt she even heard. gripping your hips and pulling you into her, natasha starts kissing and biting your neck softly, “no, sweet girl. it really wouldn’t.” you have to remind yourself to breathe, as this whole ordeal feels like a dream. it’s hard to believe you actually went through with it. natasha’s hand gets lost in your hair as she pulls your head back to look up at her.

“do you want this?” she said softly, and you quickly responded with “yes. i want this, i want you.”

“good,” she sighed. because once i start, i don’t think i’ll be able to stop.” you stared back into her eyes and whispered, “i don’t want you to stop.”

***

you left natasha’s house in the early morning, before she woke up. it felt like the right thing to do, but you couldn’t stop thinking about her all day. the teasing, the biting, the way she praised you, the way she had you whimpering “mommy… please, mommy i need it” over and over again. you were certain that the previous night was ingrained in your brain forever, and you adored every minute of it.

but right now, you had more pressing things on your mind, like exactly how this revenge on your, now ex, partner would go.

***

you felt natasha’s hand grip your shoulder and drag you to her car. you had just performed, a rather fitting, song in front of your ex partner, natasha, and most of the townspeople. your song of choice was “i fucked yr mom,” and maybe it wasn’t the smartest idea, but it did get you what you wanted.

once you arrived back in natasha’s house, you knew it wouldn’t be long before she snapped. she took you by surprise as she pinned you against the wall with her hand around your throat. you barely had a chance to speak before she did. “what the fuck was that, huh? what the fuck are you playing at?”

“didn’t you like it, mommy?” you said with your eyes gleaming up at her, leaving her trying to calm herself before she spoke again. “you know exactly what i’m talking about, princess. you can’t just do shit like that.”

“oh can’t i? you didn’t seem to mind when i was-“ you spoke out, but was quickly cut off by her slapping you across the face. “this is not the time to play games with me, little girl. i’m gonna give you one chance to-“ you interrupted her with something that resembled “when will it be time for that, then? cause this is really boring.” she almost looked offended, shocked even, that you were talking to her in such a way. you honestly don’t think you’ve ever seen her angry. definitely not like this, or directly at you. her sour mood could be felt from all around her, everything about her demeanour screamed “i’m furious and you’re making it worse for yourself.” granted, you probably should’ve stopped there, toned it down a little. but for some reason, you just couldn’t. you had to see how much it would take for her to snap. you wanted to see how far she was willing to go.

you watched as she tried to compose herself, taking deep breaths and almost trying to block you out. “when the fuck did you become such a brat, huh? i bet you thought about this every single time you came here, didn’t you?” you genuinely contemplated submitting for a second, but where’s the fun in that? “i don’t know, natasha. can’t you figure it out yourself?” you responded, blatantly yawning and mocking her. you knew you’d fucked up when you were met with her sweetest smile, “if you’re not in my bed and ready for me in two fucking minutes, this entire city is gonna know my name.”

***

it felt like an eternity before you heard natasha walk upstairs, and towards you. you figured that was a part of her plan, keep you waiting and needy, right? she definitely knew the effect she had on you, and knew how to use it to her advantage.

you knelt in the middle of her bed, and she seemed somewhat pleased that you followed at least one of her orders. apart from that, she continued to ignore you, shuffling through drawers. finally, she turned to pay attention to you, and gripped your face to look at her, “look at that, my little brat can obey me.” she almost scoffed at the sight of you, “you’re pathetic, you know that?” “not really, are you about to enlighten me, natasha?” you snapped back.

“you’ve got everyone fooled, haven’t you, angel? they all think you’re so fucking innocent. i guess only i know the truth.”

“worked for you didn’t it? so what’s that then, natasha? you’re boring me again.” you watched as she reached for something you couldn’t see, “you know what, if you wanna act like a brat, i’m gonna treat you like one.” she huffed, before she put you over the edge of the bed, and cuffed your hands behind your back. “oh, fuck.” you mumbled in reaction. “see, here i thought that you were a precious, innocent little thing. turns out you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention.”

“aw, natty, did you figure that all out by yourself? you retorted, repeating last night's words back to her.

natasha’s hand came down on your bare skin with a slap, making you let out a whimper. “oh pretty baby,” she started. “let’s see how much of a brat you are when you’re all red and raw for me. you’re gonna count every single one, angel.”

she pulled you back up close to her chest, whispering “and trust me, sweetheart, we can keep recounting all night if you feel like messing up.” you accidentally let out another whimper, much to natasha’s amusement. “something to say, baby?” you couldn’t see her face, but knew she was almost laughing at you.

“are you gonna count for me?” you let out a small mumble that she couldn’t hear. “what was that? speak up, brat.”

“yes mommy!” you sounded so desperate, you both knew it. but what you didn’t know was how much natasha wanted this, had waited for this. you looked so perfect to her, bent over her bed and tied up just for her, and her alone. she knew getting you to submit to her would be oh so easy. sure, you’ll put on the act of the disobedient slut for a while. but she knew it was just that. an act. one that she will gladly force you out of.

“twenty!” you exclaimed, with tears streaming down your face, after she spanked you over and over again. “please, it’s too much, mommy.” natasha hummed and undid the cuffs, “aw, my poor baby. did mommy make you cry?” she cooed while turning you on your back. she had removed most of her clothes at this point and pushed you down onto the bed. she stroked the hair out of your face before asking, “can you tell me your colour, angel?” “green, mommy. i don’t wanna stop.” you whined. “that’s my good girl, because i am far from fucking done with you yet” her response made chills go down your spine, and you watched her straddle your face. “now, you’re gonna be a very good girl and make me cum before i even think about touching you, am i clear?”

“yes mommy, wanna make you feel good.” you whined, and natasha chuckled at how pathetic how sounded. “what? no bratty remark?” she teased before lowering down to your mouth. as soon as she did, you could swear this was heaven. her pussy looked so pretty glistening above you, you were almost proud of how wet you made her. you gently licked and sucked her clit, “cmon my slut, i know you can do better than that.” she groaned. you licked long stripes through her folds and became completely lost in her, the way her thighs lightly squeezed your head, the way she gripped your hair, the way her taste and scent was intoxicating. she was perfect, you were sure of it. she began to buck her hips and grind against your face once you sped up your pace. “oh fuck, angel, that’s it, right there, don’t stop.” she rambled, as if you would ever stop. “you see what happens to bad girls that disobey me?” she said, tightening her grip on your hair. “bad girls get used like mommy’s toys until they learn to be good again.”

“oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, princess. you wanna mommy to cum all over your pretty face? you gripped her thighs and pulled her pussy even closer to you as you sucked her clit, “oh my god, right there, don’t you fucking stop. i’m gonna- fuck!” she moaned and whimpered as she came above you. you continued licking and sucking her pussy while she rode out her high.

natasha climbed off you and reached for something. once she was back in front of you, she had a strap attached to her hips, and smirked at you as you whimpered at the sight. “see something you like, princess? she teased. you looked up at her and nodded, with heavy eyes and slightly open mouth. “you look so pretty like this, sweetheart.” she hummed, lightly slapping your face “mommy’s pretty slut.”

natasha teased your slit with the strap, not quick pushing in yet. “you’ve been such a bad girl, haven’t you? i’m almost disappointed in you.”

“please, please mommy, i need it.” you begged. “oh, now you think you have the right to beg? i guess you’re dumber than i thought.” she teased as she pushed the strap all the way into you, making you whimper loudly.

“i’ve barely started, angel.” she cooed. “put on such a big show for me, and the brat can’t even take mommy’s cock. how pathetic.“

“no, no, i can take it, i swear, please! please give it to me, mommy.” you pleaded. natasha let out a low growl at your words, and began to thrust her strap deep into you. “where did my brat go, honey? you had such much to say earlier.” she was taunting you now, she knew it too.

“i just- fuck! please mommy, i’m so close. i just wanted your attention i swear.”

“oh i know, baby. you’re just a whore for mommy’s attention aren’t you? she continued to rock her hips into you, knowing exactly how close you were. “do you wanna cum, sweetheart? you wanna cum for mommy?” she asked.

“mhm yes, please mommy. please let me cum, i want it so bad.”

“no.” she abruptly pulled her strap out of you and stopped all her movements, making you whimper. “why did you do that, mommy?” you whined.

“why? did you really think i’d let you cum that easily? after the stunt you pulled tonight, you’ll be lucky if you cum at all.” natasha leaned in close to you, and whispered “show me how desperate you are for it.”

“no mommy,” you whined. “don’t wanna beg, please just fuck me.” she almost laughed at how pathetic you were. “i could fuck you all night, honey. that doesn’t mean i’d let you cum. now, come on, princess. don’t make a fool of yourself, tell mommy how badly you need it.”

“please give it to me, mommy, please. i’ll be your good girl, i promise. you don’t understand how badly i needed your attention, how badly i needed you. i won’t be bad ever again, i swear!” you could almost sob in desperation, you needed something, anything. “shhh, love. i’m right here, let me take care of you.” she whispered, before filling you all the way up with her strap. “mommy, it’s so so good, please i need- fuck” you whined, barely able to speak anymore.

“what, precious? what do you need?”

you tried your best to speak through breathy moans, “please play with my clit, mommy i need it” and natasha quickly obliged, circling your clit with her thumb. “oh my- fuck.” you gasped. natasha’s title left your lips like it was a damn mantra. you were completely intoxicated by her, the only thing left in your head was “mommy mommy mommy.”

“want you to cum for me, sweetheart. make a fucking mess on my cock right now.” she commanded. the world around you collapsed as you came, and you shook so hard, that you clinged onto natasha for any kind of stability. you felt her move around you, but couldn’t make out where she was, until you felt her lay next to you and pull you close to her. “there are you are,” she smiled softly at you. “hi mommy” you responded in a whisper. “hi precious girl, are you doing okay?” “yes mommy, i’m so good. can we sleep now, mama?” natasha pulled the blankets over the pair of you and placed gentle kisses on your forehead. “of course we can, sweetheart.”

you knew tomorrow would come with all of the questions, and none of the answers. but all that mattered was that you had natasha, and she had you.

#submission #natasha romanoff x reader #not mine #fic #smut #c: natasha #ITS VERY VERY GOOD KEY ANON #OH MY GOD #i love.#i feel like i got like an exclusive vip first look at this

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imagines-mha · 3 years

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⭒ haikyuu x exam season ⭒

Daichi- when i say he is the MOODIEST person when studying. It’s all fun and games until you interrupt him one too many times and he fucking explodes. Needs 2 chill

Suga- his goal in life is to be an aesthetic studyblr like this man will go and get iced coffee, order the prettiest stationary and then spend 20 minutes organising it for his instagram. As for ACTUALLY studying? He’s amazing at it. Literally the person we all aspire to be

Asahi- anxiety crams before tests. He does more than like 70% of his classmates but is always convinced he’s fallen behind on everything. Cries a LOT when he doesnt understand smth

Noya- another one who cries only he does it SO easily. Personally victimised by anything past question 1. Gets literally everyone to do his work for him

Tanaka- tries so hard he really really does. His handwriting is a mess and his notes look like something a 7 year old would do. Gets everything wrong but doesnt let it stop him

Ennoshita- did someone say pretentious straight A student??? Offers to help his friends just so he can flex his pretty notes and intelligence. Seems like he has everything under control but really? He cries like once a night in the lead up to exams

Kageyama- he doesnt have any room for anything in his head that isnt volleyball. Hes hopeless

Hinata- LACKS COMMON SENSE SO BAD. He’ll finally understand EVERYTHING but write the answer in the wrong place or leave out a decimal place in the exam. Stupidest mistakes

Tsukishima- he sticks to a study schedule like what? Who tf sticks to a schedule? Doesnt like to flaunt his grades around anyone who isnt hinata and kageyama, but akiteru and his mom are 100% the type to post his grades all over facebook like “so proud of my son !!!!!!”

Yamaguchi- the king of saying he hasn’t done much for exams, but then stays up every night til 2am studying. He HATES people having any expectations of him so keeps all his preparation secret lmao.

Kuroo- hes smart and he flaunts it so bad. 100% a teacher's pet, especially for science. Around exam season he lives in the library. Motivates kenma to study with him too tho hes so supportive

Kenma- hes naturally smart, which is like 70% of the reason his grades are good bc he does NOT study. Leaves it all to the night before/ when hes with his friends in the library but other than that nope he doesnt have energy

Lev- doesn't fully register he’s taking a test until he’s 3 questions in and hasn’t written a single word. Then he starts panicking.

Bokuto- he goes through the 5 stages of grief every single time he has to study. Gets frustrated as hell when he cant understand something, gets distracted by everything, a mess. Always leads to him slamming his textbook shut and sulking for an hour

Akaashi- the only one in fukurodani who actually spreads his studying out over the year so he doesnt have to cram. He has pretty notes and diagrams but still gets so stressed smh

Konoha- “yeah ill study in ten minutes” *cue him 6 hours later only starting* studies mostly at night and doesnt care about grades , yet still manages to score really good on every test

Oikawa- if this man is anything he’s dedicated. Actually finds balance between volleyball and studying when exam season’s in full swing, but that doesnt mean he still doesnt overwork himself. Surviving on 40 minutes of sleep and coffee lmao

Mattsun- doesn’t take school seriously at all. Hes like “who cares im gonna die one day” “if i dont know it now ill never know it”. So fucking chill

Makki- tries to be like issei so bad but it fails every time. He’s like “yeah who cares about biology anyway lmao”. He is a liar. He cried for 2 hours over biology last night smh. Biology is actually his number one care.

Iwa- naturally smart and follows a routine. The only healthy studier in seijoh tbh. Motivates his friends so much though hes the only reason mattsun and makki pass smh

Ushijima- sounds pretentious but he doesnt mean it. The worst person to study with because hes so naturally smart and makes everyone feel stupid. Hes like “how do you not understand this? Its easy?”

Tendou- hes so average when it comes to studying i cant even explain it. He goes home and studies, has dinner, watches some anime and studies a little more, then just goes to bed? Never overly concerned about it but hes the best for calming nerves. Makes you really believe things will be okay

Goshiki- CHRONIC WORRIER OH MY GOD. definitely gets the shakes before an exam and almost has a fuckin panic attack every single time, never feels prepared but he really is. Needs tendou for emotional support

Atsumu- too confident in his abilities lmao. He’s like “yeah ive got this i totally know it” then acts shocked and appalled when he fails. Thinks he’s the main character, therefore he HAS to pass. He’s not. And he never learns.

Osamu- the slightly smarter twin yet still not exceptional in any way. Doesnt really care about grades, he knows there’s more to life but still studies enough to pass

Kita- hello mr “whats a failing grade”. Never stresses and never fails. Actually the top of his class in basically everything. Manages to study and still find time for hobbies.

Aone- i am convinced a hug from him would get me through exam season every single year. Another person who just? Doesnt stress? Follows a routine and doesnt mind if he doesnt know something in the test. wow

Futakuchi- “i dont care about exams at all fuck them” *gets 53% and cries*. He doesnt have the patience to study and feels betrayed when all his friends actually do the work

Koganegawa- hes like hinata only he actually passes most of the time. Works SO hard and gets so happy when it pays off!! Always treats himself to mcdonalds after an exam thats self love babie

Terushima- you need to be cautious around this man. He’ll spend every night of exam season partying and ignoring any responsibility, yet still come out with 100% in everything. Where does he find the time? How does that work? What the fuck?

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bluejayblueskies · 3 years

Text

an ill-fitting definition

rating: M words: 4.3k relationships: jongeorgie, jontim, jonmartin, background wtgfs additional tags: canon compliant, pre-canon, scottish safehouse period, canon asexual character, fluff, kissing, implied sexual content, rumors and misconceptions

written for weeks two/three of @archivalpride for the prompts identity and doubt!

cw for misconceptions about asexuality, assumptions made about somebody’s sexuality, rumors and outing somebody without their knowledge, non-explicit/implied sexual content, mention of canonical character death, mention of canonical stalking and paranoia, gossip (including of the sexual nature), food, very mild blood, mild internalized acephobia

ao3 link in source

It’s three weeks and two days after they began dating, when Georgie picks up Jon’s hand where it’s clasped in hers and asks with plain curiosity in her voice, so does the ring, y’know, mean anything?, that Georgie hears the word asexual cross Jon’s lips for the first time.

It’s not a word she’s unfamiliar with; she’s run in enough LGBTQ spaces in her time in uni that she has a good idea of the breadth of identities that are out there. She rubs her thumb across Jon’s ring and thinks, in the voice of the gender and equality training instructor with sharp red heels and a “fun” black dress who’d stood in front of the seminar she’d been mandated to take for one of her courses:

Asexuality. A lack of sexual attraction. An aversion or repulsion to sexual activities.

It had been a small word on a large black-and-white slide, crammed in next to aromanticism and overcrowded by a myriad of other sexual identities discussed at length. It had been… quite a comprehensive training, Georgie thinks as she quits fidgeting with Jon’s ring and instead threads their fingers together. For a moment, she considers asking what he means anyway, but she quickly dismisses the thought. She wants to be supportive, and as Jon looks at her with open, trusting eyes and a faint smile, she decides that she knows enough. She doesn’t want to make it awkward, and with things like these, she’s found that asking Jon to explain his feelings in plain terms can be… well, awkward is certainly a word for it. Best just not to bring it up, she decides.

Still, she feels the need to ask, “Can I kiss you?” because the red no sex sign blinking on and off in her head is frustratingly vague on what, exactly, is contained within that stipulation. When Jon voices his assent, she tips her head up and presses a quick kiss to his chin before kissing him on the lips, wiping the disgruntled look off them.

So yes to kissing, she thinks, tucking that away next to no sex. Yes kissing, no sex. Yes holding hands, she adds as she squeezes Jon’s hand in hers and he smiles at her, warm and soft, that special side of Jon that she only sees on occasion. No pet names, she adds a week later when she tries out sweetheart and Jon’s nose wrinkles with displeasure. No foot rubs, when Jon swats at her and says, between giggles, that he’s awfully ticklish. Yes back rubs. Yes cuddling. No PDA. No touching with wet or sticky hands. Yes brushing hair.

That’s as far as she gets before, one year and two months after she begins dating Jonathan Sims, she stops. After which point she stops keeping track, because, well. There’s really no point anymore, is there?

“I’m sorry,” Jon says, burying his head in his hands.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Tim says quickly, holding his hands in the air in a placating gesture. He scoots a few inches away from Jon on the couch for good measure, unsure just how much space Jon needs right now. “It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize—I should apologize. I should have asked first.”

“It’s just—” Jon makes a frustrated noise, and when he takes his hands away his cheeks are dark and he won’t meet Tim’s eyes. “It’s complicated.”

“It’s okay,” Tim repeats, watching with a twisting feeling in his stomach as Jon apparently notices that the button of his trousers is still undone and quickly goes to redo it. His eyes follow the movements of Jon’s hands automatically, and just as automatically, he notes the distinct lack of a tent in the front of Jon’s trousers. The same… cannot be said for his own. Particularly after nearly twenty minutes of kissing, which Tim had very much enjoyed.

Christ, had Jon been uncomfortable with that as well? All in a rush, Tim says, “Was the kissing bad too?” Then, he winces—fuck, that sounded accusatory—and adds, “It- it’s okay if it was, I just- I didn’t know, and I don’t want to do something that makes you uncomfortable, Jon.”

“No, the- the kissing was fine, it’s just...” Jon makes an aborted motion with his hands, like he’s trying and failing to find the words.

“... complicated?” Tim supplies.

Jon nods mutely.

“That’s okay,” Tim says, and he finds that he means it. “We don’t have to do anything more than kissing if you don’t want to.”

“I- I don’t…” Jon worries his bottom lip between his teeth. He opens and closes his mouth a few times, like he’s searching for the right words, the crease in his forehead deepening every moment he fails to find them. Finally, he lets out a long, labored breath, pinches the bridge of his nose between his fingers, and says, “Yes, that… that might be best.”

Tim studies Jon’s face. It’s pinched and a bit stiff, like Jon would very much like to crawl out of his skin or melt into a puddle and disappear. “You sure?” he feels compelled to ask, placing a hand carefully on Jon’s knee. “You, uh. You seem a bit unsure.”

Jon sits there a moment more, spine straight and rigid, before melting slightly against Tim’s hand, his face slipping into something more relaxed but no less unhappy. “Yes.” He hesitates a moment, then says, a bit stiltedly, “I’m, um. I’m asexual. Since we’re already talking about this, I… I may as well get that out in the open as well.”

Oh. A few pieces slot into place, and Tim says with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than necessary, “Oh. Why didn’t you tell—?” He cuts himself off and offers Jon a sheepish smile. “Sorry, sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for telling me.”

“We’re dating,” Jon says bluntly. “It was going to come up eventually.”

“Still.” Tim shrugs, then reaches for Jon’s hand and holds it tightly in his. “Thanks.” He hesitates only a moment before leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to Jon’s nose. Jon makes a disgruntled noise, which Tim thinks is adorable. Then, because it feels appropriate, he says, “Y’know, Danny… Danny was asexual. Aromantic too, actually. We had a big talk about it a few years ago where he sort of… laid it all out for me.” No sex, no romance, no thank you, had been the overall gist of it. Tim makes a new box for Jon and fills it in with the words no sex, yes romance, it’s complicated.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly, with that same sort of sadness in his eyes that he gets every time Tim mentions Danny, something much gentler than pity and significantly less cloying. If Tim notices the faint discomfort that accompanies it, something that whispers that isn’t my definition of asexuality, we’re not the same, you don’t understand if one were to listen closely enough, he doesn’t let on.

Tim does, however, notice the discomfort in Jon’s eyes—now mixed with anger—when two years, six months, and seven days later, he accuses Tim of murder. But by then, their days of hand-holding and nose-kissing are far, far behind them.

“Maybe he just needs to get laid,” Melanie says with a groan, lying on Georgie’s couch and staring at the ceiling. The Admiral is curled up on her lap, purring contentedly. She scratches absentmindedly under his chin.

“What, Jon?” Georgie appears in Melanie’s field of vision, wielding a damp wooden spoon and frowning.

“No. No.” Melanie shakes her head emphatically. “Martin. He’s been all… sulky lately. I think he’s still upset that Jon came to me instead of him for help, but I don’t know why he has to be all… touchy about it.”

“Ah. Well, you know, he is a bit hung up on Jon. At least, according to you.”

“I don’t see how that’s my problem,” Melanie says grumpily. “Besides, didn’t you say that Jon went on about Martin, like, all the time? Sounds like he’s got it bad as well. Maybe they could just… y’know.”

“Melanie.”

“What?” Melanie tries to shoot Georgie a glare, but it’s obstructed by the back of the couch. “I’m on my last nerve, Georgie!”

“I know, honey. But Jon’s really not… well, he’s not very open about these sorts of things. Getting him to talk about his feelings was like pulling teeth when we were together.”

“It still baffles me that you used to date.”

“He’s very sweet when you get to know him!” There’s a pause, a few clatters from the kitchen. “Besides, even if he and Martin got around to talking, Jon… well, he doesn’t.”

Melanie frowns. “Doesn’t what?”

“Have sex.”

“Really?” Melanie sits up, disturbing the Admiral, who lets out an irritated mrpp before adjusting himself accordingly and curling back up on her lap. “So when you were together…?”

Georgie shakes her head. “Nope. Never.”

“Huh.” Melanie thinks for a moment. “Is he like… religious or something?”

Georgie chuckles. “Jon? No, not at all. He’s asexual.”

“Isn’t that like… that thing that sponges are? Where they self-reproduce?”

“Seriously?”

Melanie scowls at the incredulous look Georgie’s giving her. “What? I’m not being a- a dick, I’ve just never heard of it before.”

“You were a YouTuber. Your job was to be internet famous.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.”

Georgie shoots Melanie a grin. “Sorry. Basically, it means that Jon doesn’t do sex. Like… at all. He just… doesn’t.”

“Huh,” Melanie says again.

“Yeah.” Georgie turns back to the stove. “Now, come here. Tell me if there’s too much salt?”

“Sorry Admiral,” Melanie whispers as she deposits him onto the floor and crosses the room to wrap her arms around Georgie’s waist from behind and take the bite of sauce on the spoon Georgie holds out for her. “Mm, tastes great. As always.”

And in the back of her mind, Melanie adds another line to the section labeled Jonathan Sims and writes, with careful handwriting, he doesn’t.

Although… according to Georgie, Jon doesn’t.

Martin pauses the tape and rubs his hands over his eyes. His cheeks are burning red, and he takes a few minutes to just breathe.

Doesn’t what? Doesn’t date? Doesn’t kiss? Doesn’t—

Martin stops that train of thought before it goes any further, the flush on his face growing in intensity. It’s none of my business, he tells himself as he ejects the tape and turns it over in his hands a few times before sliding it back into the small box it had come from.

He still can’t help but think about it. He thinks about it before the Unknowing, when Jon hesitates just a moment before wrapping him in a tight hug and whispering, I… I’ll be back, Martin. Then we can talk. He thinks about it when Jon’s in his coma, when Martin sits at his bedside and loses himself in daydreams and what-ifs. He thinks about it when Jon’s hand is clasped in his and he’s leading Martin out of cloying white fog and sea-salt air, his shirt speckled with bits of dark liquid that Martin tries to pretend isn’t blood. He thinks about it on the way to the safehouse, Jon leaning against his side, Martin’s hand clasped firmly in his.

He thinks about it a lot, in the confines of the wooden walls that let in the growing chill of the Scottish countryside.

Jon doesn’t.

He knows what Jon does. Jon makes him breakfast most days, eggs and toast and sometimes waffles, which Martin’s always considered a guilty pleasure but that he’s had more times in the past week and a half than he’s had for the past ten years. Jon puts his head on Martin’s shoulder when they sit on the couch and read, flipping through the dusty novels they’d found tucked in cardboard boxes underneath the bed that Jon had wrinkled his nose at but has been slowly making his way through nevertheless. Jon clings to Martin like his life depends on it when they sleep, and Martin will wake in the morning with one arm slung across his chest, a leg between his, and a sizeable portion of hair tickling at his nose.

And, nine days into their stay, Jon smiles at Martin as he shuffles into the kitchen in the morning, stands on his toes, and presses a soft kiss to Martin’s lips.

“Um,” Martin says eloquently, still half-asleep and trying to process what he’s 98% sure is their first kiss. He’d be 100% sure except for the fact that Jon kissed him like it was nothing, like it was easy, like it was something they do every morning.

The smile slips from Jon’s face, and he looks nervous. “I- I’m sorry, I should have asked first—”

“No, no, it’s- it’s okay,” Martin hastens to say, taking one of Jon’s hands in his and squeezing gently. “Just- just surprised, that’s all. I, um. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to kiss me, given that we haven’t…” He gestures absently, his face heating up. Stop talking, Martin. “Yeah,” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” Jon says with a frown. “I… apologize for giving you that impression. I- I love you, Martin—I have no problems with kissing you.”

Warmth courses through Martin, as it always does when Jon tells him that he loves him. It all feels so unreal sometimes that he’s here, with Jon, away from it all and living in quiet domesticity. “Oh,” he says, face flushed. “A- all right, then. Great!”

“Great,” Jon echoes.

“Just- just thought maybe you didn’t—”

Martin clamps his mouth shut, face heating up more, this time in embarrassment. Shut up, Martin.

Jon raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t… what?”

“Um.” Martin rubs a hand across the back of his neck. “Kiss?”

Jon looks at Martin blankly. “Oh. Well, I- I do.”

“Right, yeah, I- I put that together. When we, um. You know.”

Jon looks amused. “Kissed?”

“Yep, that,” Martin squeaks out.

They look at each other for a moment before dissolving into giggles. Jon presses another kiss to Martin’s lips and finishes making the waffles and kisses Martin again when he hands Jon his tea, and it’s really quite lovely indeed.

So Martin adds Jon kisses to his mental list of Jon does and finds a sole remainder on the list of Jon doesn’t. And it’s fine with him, he decides, if Jon doesn’t want to have sex. He just wants Jon, in whatever way Jon will have him.

Jon doesn’t do sex, he thinks as he kisses Jon goodnight.

So, three days later, when they’re on the couch and they’ve kissed until Martin is red-faced and breathless and Jon pulls back with a pinched expression on his face, Martin assumes—with hot embarrassment coursing through him—that he’s somehow gone too far and strayed into sex territory and made Jon uncomfortable.

Then, Jon says with cheeks dark and eyes focused resolutely on Martin’s chest, “Martin, would… would you like to move to the bedroom?” and Martin’s thoughts grind to a halt.

“Sorry, what?” is all he can think to say.

Jon’s cheeks grow incrementally darker. “I am asking,” he says slowly, like the words are clunky and unwieldy in his mouth, “if you would like to have sexual intercourse. With me, of course, I- I hope that was implied.”

Martin’s aware that his mouth is quite literally hanging open in shock. He closes it quickly before swallowing and saying, “I… yeah, Jon, I- I’d love that, but I thought you—”

He clamps his mouth shut again, a touch too late. Jon’s forehead creases in confusion and he says, “I what?”

Martin hems and haws for a moment before biting the bullet and saying, all in a rush, “I thought you didn’t like sex.”

Jon’s frown deepens. “What? Why?”

And god, Martin doesn’t want to admit that he’s been thinking about office gossip for nearly a year, but he’s dug his grave—he may as well lie in it. He sighs, worries his hands on his lap, and says, “I… may have listened to a tape where Melanie said that Georgie said that you… didn’t.”

Jon looks at Martin blankly for a moment before his expression flattens into something that’s equal parts irritated and resigned. “Ah. Right. That… that makes sense, I suppose.”

“I’m sorry, Jon,” Martin says emphatically, placing his hand atop Jon’s and squeezing. “I- I didn’t mean to hear it; I was listening to the statements and it was just there.”

“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.” Jon sighs and rubs a hand across his eyes. “If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine.”

“What?”

Jon makes an aborted, dismissive gesture with his hand. “I’ve… never been good at explaining my own preferences. I never did with Georgie, just… told her I was asexual and left it at that. I suppose she took that to mean that I, er. Didn’t.”

Asexual. Martin has a vague notion of what that means—he’s been in enough online LGBTQ spaces to have encountered the word before, but he’s never really looked into it much himself. If pressed, he thinks he’d also assume it meant that Jon didn’t. Something a bit guilty twists within him at that thought, amplified by his next thought that Georgie shouldn’t have assumed, because, well, that’s a bit hypocritical, isn’t it? Still, he feels the need to voice it; he squeezes Jon’s hand again and says, “It’s not your fault that she just- just made assumptions about what you wanted, Jon.”

“Yes, but it’s my fault that I never corrected her.” Jon makes a face. “Or Tim, now that I think about it. I… I suppose I’m just not very good at talking about these things. Particularly because my own preferences are…” Jon’s pained expression deepens. “Christ, I don’t want to say complicated again, but there really is no other word for it.”

That’s not your fault either, Martin wants to say, but he knows Jon will just contradict him again, and he’ll repeat himself, and then they’ll just be talking in circles, and that won’t help anything. It’s frustrating, but it’s the truth. Still, Martin finds the words waiting on his lips when he opens his mouth, so he shuts it again and thinks for a moment, promising himself later. I’ll tell him later. Finally, he says carefully, “Do you… do you want to talk about it? We don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I don’t want to assume.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “Well, I don’t want to keep assuming, I suppose, given that I’ve already assumed quite a lot.” Quieter: “Sorry, again.”

“It’s fi—” Jon cuts off, takes a breath. “Th… thank you, Martin.” He hesitates a moment, then says haltingly, “I- I do want to talk about it, but I don’t—” He makes a frustrated noise. “—I don’t know how.”

“Okay,” Martin says after a moment. “You said it’s complicated, yeah?” When Jon nods mutely, he continues, “Would it help if you described how you feel right now? That’s- that’s less complicated, right?”

Jon’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “I… suppose.”

“All right, then.” Martin makes a go-on gesture, then rests his hand atop Jon’s and applies a gentle pressure.

Jon takes a few deep breaths, squints at nothing, makes a few wordless noises, then says bluntly, “I want to have sex with you.”

Martin tries really, really hard not to blush, but he doesn’t think he quite succeeds given how hot his face feels when he says, “Right, okay.” His voice is a bit higher-pitched than normal; he hopes that Jon doesn’t notice. “And, um. Do you always… want to have sex with me? Or just right now.”

Jon grimaces. “That’s where it gets complicated.” He makes an I-don’t-know gesture with his free hand and says, “No? Yes? I don’t know, Martin. I’m told that not wanting sex all the time is- is normal, that- that you have to be in the mood, but apparently I’m just supposed to know when I’ll be in the mood and when I won’t be, and that- that doesn’t really work for me.”

“Are you—” Martin cringes internally, but forces the words out. “—in the mood right now?”

“Well,” Jon grumbles, “not anymore, but I was. And it’s complicated, because even if I am, I- I don’t always want to be touched, but how do you explain that to someone, how- how do you tell someone that it’s mostly no but sometimes yes and there’s a very good chance that I might change my mind halfway through and decide that it’s no after all?”

“I think,” Martin says patiently, “that you just say that.”

Jon gives Martin a look. “Martin.”

“What? It’s true!” Martin gives Jon as reassuring a smile as he can muster. “It made sense to me, at least.”

“Yes, but that’s not—” Jon makes a frustrated noise. “It’s not whether or not it makes sense, it’s whether or not somebody is willing to put up with a sexual partner who doesn’t know whether or not they’re going to want to have sex on any given day, whether they- they’ll be repulsed or interested or want to give but not receive or the other way around or- or something else that I haven’t thought of but that will likely happen because consistency is, apparently, off the cards for me entirely.”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says gently, placing a hand on Jon’s shoulder and rubbing gentle circles with his thumb. “Jon, look at me.” When Jon looks, albeit reluctantly, Martin continues, “I can’t speak for other people, and I- I can’t tell you how to feel, but I can tell you how I feel, and I… I’m willing. No, more than willing—I love you, Jon, all of you, and if this is how you feel, then I love that about you too. Whatever you’re willing to give me, it… it’ll be enough. You’re enough.”

Jon’s cheeks darken and he looks away. After a long moment, he says in a stiff voice, “Well. Thank you, Martin.” Then, a bit softer: “I… I love you too.” He looks at Martin then and offers him a small, weak smile. “It’s… well, it’s still awkward, but it’s not quite as bad—talking about all of this—as I thought it would be.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Talk to me about it, that is.”

Jon’s smile turns a bit hesitant. “So you would really be okay if I… if I never asked again? To, er. To have sex.”

“Yes,” Martin says, without hesitation.

“Oh,” Jon says quietly. “And- and if I said that I did? Want to? That… that would be okay too? Even if I’d already said that I didn’t?”

“Yep.”

Jon looks down at his hands where they’re twisted tightly in the hem of his jumper, then back up at Martin. “All right.” He hesitates a moment, then says, “And if… if I said that I wanted to have sex… now?”

Ah. It looks like Martin’s not done blushing quite yet. “Yep, that- that’s fine with me,” he squeaks out, then cringes internally. Fine? Really?

Thankfully, Jon doesn’t seem offended; if anything, he seems amused, his mouth quirking up into a small smirk. “All right, then.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Martin’s lips, soft and chaste and ever-so-slightly lingering before he pulls away. “I, er. I think I’d like to just kiss for a bit, though.” His smile turns teasing. “Foreplay is very important, after all.”

Martin groans and gives Jon a look, his face likely fully tomato-red by now. “Jon.”

“Need to make sure we’re fully in the mood before beginning proceedings—”

“Yes, yes, you’ve made your point,” Martin says, a giggle slipping out around the words. Then, because he’s nothing if not a little mischievous himself, he leans forward and captures Jon’s lips in a kiss, significantly less chaste and a touch more insistent, pressing until Jon is leaned back against the arm of the couch and Martin is hovering over him. Martin disengages from the kiss so he can marvel at the flushed, wide-eyed expression on Jon’s face. “Like that?” he says innocently.

Jon blinks up at him for a few seconds, like he’s not entirely sure how to process everything in front of him, before he smiles, a warm, happy thing that captures Martin’s heart entirely and steals it away. “I do believe that was adequate, yes. Perhaps you should do it again though, just to make sure.”

So Martin does. I love him, he thinks as he kisses Jon on the couch and kisses him again on the bed, kisses him in the spot between his shoulder blades where he always carries tension and in the dip of his clavicle and on the inside of his thigh. And when he’s curled up next to Jon after, he presses another kiss to the crown of Jon’s head and wraps his arms around him and quietly discards his mental lists of does and doesn’t. He’ll start from scratch, he decides, and after a moment’s thought, he comes up with two more lists, upon which it’s surprisingly easy to add item after item after item.

Jon likes to be kissed. Jon likes eggs and toast, but not jam, and likes his tea black and slightly oversteeped. Jon doesn’t like wool because he finds it itchy. Jon doesn’t like white wine, but he likes red, the kinds that are too dry for Martin’s tastes.

Jon likes Martin, and Martin likes him too. So, so much. And even when things change, when Jon finds a white wine he likes at a restaurant they visit and he takes his tea once with honey and enjoys it and he goes through a period where he doesn’t enjoy open-mouthed kisses and Martin adjusts his lists accordingly, that remains.

#archivalpride #the magnus archives #jongeorgie #jontim #jonmartin #tma #jonathan sims #tim stoker #georgie barker #melanie king #martin blackwood #my fic #my writing

205 notes · View notes

peachiimilquetea · 3 years

Text

𝐛𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 boyfriend has never been too sexual of a guy... or so he thought

this authors note is gonna be a bit longer so bare with me pls. so this is the very first request im doing! woo! tysm to @m0chilattae for this request it was so good and i had a lot fun fleshing it out! this is also my first scenario so its not gonna be in my usually bulleted format. I hope you guys like it and please let me know if you have any preferences for legibility or anything like that!

length: 2.6k

contains: sub!bf x dom!reader, afab/fem!reader, light b0ndage, edging, teasing, use of baby boy, use of miss/mistress, light degradation (m!receiving), face sitting/ oral (mostly r! receiving), light overstimulation (m! receiving), 69 technically?, vibe play

“wow you didn’t even flinch,” you murmured

you and your boyfriend sat on the couch cuddled up together, the dim light from the tv softly reflected on your faces. this movie almost was unbearably long, but he had insisted you had to see it and so here you were almost an hour later.

“what?”

you pulled your eyes away from the screen to look at your boyfriend.

“this woman is getting some of the best dick of her life on screen and you didn’t even miss a beat,” you giggled.

you weren’t even trying to be funny. the actress on screen let out an exaggerated moan as the man in front of her practically plowed into her, almost to prove your point. the scene wasn’t really your cup of tea but even you were a bit affected, feeling heat prick your skin as you watched the sex scene unfold.

your boyfriend, however, seemed extremely disinterested.

“hey can we skip this scene?” he asked and you grabbed the remote to fast forward.

the rest of the movie went pretty well. your boyfriend made a pretty good choice for this week’s movie night, but you were more focused on what he said earlier.

“babe?”

“hm?”

“so that scene really didn’t make you feel anything? not even a little stomach flutter?”

“nope,” he said popping the p for emphasis, “its just not my thing i guess.”

it wasn’t a secret in your relationship that your boyfriend had a significantly lower sex drive than you did. it was a running joke among his friends and he was almost notorious for not really being too interested in the cultural narrative of traditional sex.

you didn’t hold it against him of course, you loved him all the same and he even got you some toys for the times that he just wasn’t feeling it, but something was always off about his apathy towards getting down and dirty with you. there was, however, one thing you had not tried yet.

you were a switch, but you had never tried to turn the tables on your boyfriend. it could be the missing piece you thought, as you cleaned up the living room. as he took the dishes to the kitchen to wash them you made the executive decision to test your running theory

“you know, i think we should try something later this week,” you came up behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

“yeah? something like what?” he turned off the water and sighed, leaning into your touch.

“hmmm its a surprise. but you do have to come up with a safeword for me.”

“ill think about it”

and thus your plan was set into motion.

on the days leading up to the finale of your master plan, you decided to start small with the teasing. you had never attempted to turn the tables on your boyfriend and you were extremely curious as to how things would go.

you had asked him to go out and pick up some things for dinner.

“im home!” he called and you directed him to the kitchen with his bags.

“i was just about to start cutting up veggies, so perfect timing babe. did you get the salmon i asked for?”

“yup! i got the last fillet.”

“good boy! you’re so helpful baby i was afraid there wouldn’t be any left”

your boyfriend paused mid-action as he processed what you had just said to him. he didn’t notice the way you were subtly taking note of how his face heated up slightly and how he began to fumble over his words just a little.

the pet name made his stomach do flips, but why was that? did he like that? he didn’t even know himself, but he pushed it down and continued to help you unpack the groceries and set up for your meal.

the second time you teased him was when he was doing some work for school. he had managed to give himself a huge papercut and came out of his room to find you for help.

“what the hell happened?” you gasped as you saw the state of his finger. he would live but you had no idea how he managed to do this with one sheet of paper.

“s’just a papercut but it stings like crazy. do you have a bandaid?”

you hurried to get him fixed up so he could get right back to work,

“you have to be more careful, baby boy, you only get 10 fingers,” you smiled at him, knowing your words would have an effect on him again.

he sputtered, whatever he was going to say becoming a jumbled mess in his mouth at the casual way you called him baby boy. it was so natural for you, and it sounded so so good to his ears.

“what?” he croaked out, desperately hoping you would repeat yourself.

“are you feeling ok? you’re looking a bit flushed, babe. i just said you need to be more careful, how much blood did you lose?”

“n-not too much,” he ran a hand through his hair to subtly calm himself down, “it was just a paper cut.”

“well ok, if you need anything else you know where to find me.”

the smile in your voice was a new kind of torture to him. he didn’t even know he could feel so hot all the time, let alone from words alone.

you, on the other hand, were growing more and more excited as the days passed. the build-up would make the end of the week that much sweeter and you were determined to make it good for him.

the end of the week couldn’t come fast enough for the two of you. your boyfriend had never been this horny in your life and you had never been so ready to help him out.

as you gently adjusted the restraints around his wrists he felt all sorts of anticipation bubbling in his stomach. he didn’t know what you had planned but he was almost itching to find out. so much for not being too interested.

“do you remember the safe word?” you asked, tugging the chain to check its security to the bed.

“yes,” he breathed.

“good.”

you left the room to collect yourself and to give yourself the element of surprise. you had to make this a performance, and a damn good one at that.

giving yourself one last look over in the mirror, you stepped back into the room and put on your dominant demeanor. it felt good to be back after such a long time.

“you know,” you started, circling your boyfriend on the bed, “i almost feel silly for not picking up on this sooner.”

your boyfriend said nothing verbally, but his eyes followed you like a starved animal, mind holding onto every word you said for dear life. his mouth was so dry and he was so turned on.

“its funny really, i never did anything because i didn’t want to scare you. isn’t that ironic, baby?” you mused out loud, “the one thing you wanted all along has been here the whole time.”

he finally found his voice, asking, “and what’s that?”

you came closer to him, hooking your leg around his other side and sitting on top of him. you teasingly rubbed your hands all over his chest and stomach, reveling in how he squirmed for you made such small and cute sounds.

“you wanted someone to take control.”

he screwed his eyes shut and let out a low “fuck” at your words as you rubbed over his nipples lightly. he stared at your tits, desperately wanting to grope you back but being stopped by his restraints.

he bucked in surprise when you pinched them, letting out a loud gasp and throwing his head to the side.

“awww, my baby boy is so sensitive,” you crooned and you swore you watched him die and go to heaven when you called him that.

“you like it when i call you a good boy?”

he groaned, nodding his head feverishly. you caressed his face and kissed him on the forehead, getting off his lap and getting out your box of toys from underneath the bed. it was time to really make him see stars

“as glad as i am that we’ve gotten to the root of your issue, you still need to be punished for not being truthful with me.”

“but _____ i didnt-”

“who?” you asked, voice turning icy in a split second, “you call me miss or mistress. do you understand?”

“yes miss,” he shivered.

“now, are you going to behave?” you asked, vibrator in hand.

he eyed the toy down but still nodded. you motioned for him to lift his hips up and got his pants off, leaving him in just his underwear strapped to your shared bed.

it was a sight you never thought you were going to see, so you savored it, drinking in his naked and flushed form, and really enjoying how antsy he got under your gaze. it was truly intoxicating.

“you always told me your sex drive was low, and yet here you are, practically keening at the thought of me using you like the toy you are. do you want me to touch you?”

he began to nod but you grabbed his jaw, making him look you in the eye, “use your words like a good boy.”

“yes mistress, i want you to touch me so bad”

“where do you want me to touch you?”

“o-on my c-chest and stomach. a-and on my… you know,” he mumbled shyly towards the end.

“you have to say it, baby boy,” you grinned pinching and twisting his nipples again. he cried out in surprise and pleasure.

“my cock! i want you to touch my cock! please miss!”

you smiled as he started to crack and looked down at where his dick strained in his underwear. his cock head was practically dripping, leaving him with a dark patch right on the front of his underwear. you hadn’t even properly touched him yet and he was almost cumming in his pants.

you pulled his briefs down, enjoying the view of his cock bouncing back up and hitting his lower stomach. grabbing it with some force, you started to stroke him, thumbing his slit to spread his precum around and use it like lube.

“we’ll have you get you a cock ring soon because this won’t do,” you said, making a fist for him to buck up into.

he was moaning pretty loud now, the loudest you’d ever heard him outside of receiving head. there was a familiar but searing heat blooming in your stomach but you pushed it down. right now the focus was on him.

turning on the vibrator, you concentrated it to the underside of his head. he let out a yelp, then a hiss and a whine as he felt the waves of pleasure crash over him.

“t-this- its too much! s’too much!”

you let it continue for a few seconds before turning the vibrator off and moving away from him.

you watched as your boyfriend fought against his restraints, bucking into the empty air for even a semblance of friction.

“i was on the edge! w-why did you stop?”

“you thought mistress was going to let you cum that easily? you’re working for this baby,” you stepped back up to him and grabbed his cock again, turning the vibrator to a higher setting than before.

back and forth you went edging the boy on the bed. as you teased him more and more, he became more restless, thrashing around more and really letting himself feel every stroke, change of pace, and new vibration.

after a while, you couldn’t take the pangs of white-hot need shooting through your abdomen so you decided to put him to good use. you turned the vibe off, leaving the poor boy at the edge and climbed back on top of him, scooting yourself over to where his face was.

his eyes widened as he looked up at you, realizing what you had planned for him in real time.

“do you think you can handle me sitting on your face?”

he audibly groaned, “yes mistress. i would love- mmmph!”

you cut him off by lowering yourself down on him, relishing in the relief of his tongue on your cunt. he moved in long and languid strokes at first, almost teasing, but then began to really eat as if his life depended on it, sucking on your cl!t and fucking you with his tongue.

you could feel your legs shaking as he went to town. you grabbed the headboard and unconsciously began to grind against his face, giving him little pockets of air now and then. you then got an amazing idea.

you completely dismounted off his face and turned around so you were facing his cock. he was still tied up very well, and he bucked his hips up at the view of your ass right in his face.

he lifted his head to take a bite out of it and you slapped his thigh, chuckling at how eager he was. he had earned the right to be a little bit playful at least.

“do you want me to make you cum? you’ve been a good boy so i think you’ve earned it.”

“yes yes! i wan- i want it more than anything- i-”

“but,” you grabbed his cock, “ you have to make me cum first.”

“i-i can do that,” he moaned and you lowered yourself onto him and let him take over. it felt so good you almost forgot that his cock was right there.

you pressed a few light kisses to the head and almost immediately came his muffled moans from being deep in your pussy. you were so close you just needed a little but more.

he sucked on you with vigor, finally tipping you over the edge with a harsh suck to your clit. you cried out and braced yourself on his thighs, riding out your orgasm all over his face. he groaned as he tried to keep up with you, licking up everything that gushed out with vigor and you spasmed in slight overstimulation as he cleaned you up.

“you’re such a good boy,” you sighed.

you flipped around once again, catching him in a searing kiss before sinking down on his cock without warning. you swallowed a garbled moan of his as you continued to kiss him and leave marks on his neck and chest, riding him slowly.

“miss, im not gonna last long at all,” he whimpered and you ran a hand through his hair to push it out of his face as you looked at him.

“that’s ok, baby boy. just let go”

two more strokes and he was cumming in you with a loud groan. his heavy breathing fanned your face as you continued past the threshold of pleasure he was prepared for.

“m-miss- i-ah! i finished- finished!” he babbled as you rode him into an overstimulated frenzy

“hurts-it hurts! please mistress no more!”

you finally slowed to a stop and let him just calm down inside you. after unsheathing him and taking off his restraints, you laid in your bed together in comfortable silence.

“what was that?” he asked and the both of you dissolved into post-coitus giggling.

“well i’ve always been a domme, but i never thought you would be into that kinda thing. you never seemed like you were into any kind of thing.”

“that is true. i just didn’t know i was into… that”

he sighed as you played with his hair, “well now that we know, we can do more. a lot more.”

he looked up at you with a lazy smile, “most definitely”

𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @kixa

#[🍑]peachiiwrites #[🍦]#[🍑]peachiimilquetea #peachiileafrequests #dom!reader #sub!bf #scenario #oneshot #request #overstimulation

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thetravelerwrites · 3 years

Text

Alexei (Part 2) Lemon

Rating: Mature Relationships: Female Human/Male Satyr Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Satyr, Arranged Marriage, Fake Marriage, Strangers to Lovers, Reader Insert, Illness Words: 6143

A commission for @thebimess! A sudden illness changes the nature of the reader's and Alexei's relationship. Please reblog and leave feedback!

The Traveler's Masterlist

You left the next morning before Alexei woke, as usual, but the walk to the bathhouse, which was only across the street, was more difficult than it had been before. Within an hour, you felt exhausted and weak, as if there were steel bands constricting your chest, preventing you from taking a full breath. There was a sharp pain in your side every time you breathed in.

“You don’t sound well,” Your work neighbor, Ellie, said. “There’s a nasty whistle when you take a breath. Are you alright, lovie?”

“Yes, I’m alright,” You lied. “Don’t worry about me, I can carry on.”

“If you say so.”

At some point during the day, you were called out of the laundry room.

“Am I in trouble?” You asked the matron.

“No, dearie,” The matron said, looking concerned. “We went and called on your husband to take you home. You’ve looked like you’re going to fall into the tubs all day.”

“I can work, Madam, I’m fine,” You protested.

“Nonsense,” She said. “Let your husband take you home. The last thing I need is a corpse on my working floor, you got me, missy?”

“Yes, Madam,” You said.

Alexei stood up from where he was sitting in the front room. As soon as he saw you, his face pinched in concern.

“You’re terribly pale,” Alexei said, coming close. “What’s happened?”

“Nothing,” You gasped. “I just have a little cold or something, it’s nothing to worry about.” It was unfortunate that at that moment, your feet decided to trip over themselves and you stumbled into him.

“Oy, oy,” He said, helping you right yourself. He put a hand to your head. “My word, you are boiling, pet! Let’s get you back home and lay you down. Madam, thank you for sending for me. Will you need compensation for the time she’s not working?”

“We’ll figure that out later. Get that child in a bed.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Alexei managed to drag you back to your room and helped you out of your short cloak and shoes. He steered you toward your bedroll and lay you down in it. As soon as your body hit the blankets, it gave out and you lost consciousness.

When you woke, it was dark. You had a wet rag on your forehead, your body feeling as though you’d been trampled by horses. Though you were bundled up, you felt like you were going to freeze. Breathing was like being stabbed with knives. As you inhaled and exhaled, there was a gravelly rasp that you could feel in your lungs. You made a sound of discomfort, and suddenly Alexei’s face came into your field of vision.

“You’re awake,” He said, taking the rag from your head. “Can you sit up? You need to drink.”

“Help me,” You croaked. He wedged his arm under your shoulders and lifted you. Your body screamed in agony and you gave a pained cry. “I can’t breathe,” You told him. “I feel like I’m drowning.”

“I know,” He said, his face scrunching in sympathy. “The physician has been ‘round to see you. You have pneumonia, he says.”

“Pneumonia?” You repeated.

“Yes,” He said, tipping a cup of water for you to drink. “He doesn’t think you’re infectious, since no one you’ve been around has developed symptoms. He left me some medicine to give you, powdered willow bark and peppermint.”

“That must have been expensive,” You wheezed. “How much did it cost you?”

“Let me worry about the expense,” He said, urging you to drink more. “Just concentrate on getting better.”

“But my job…” You protested. “I’ll be sacked...”

“Stop fussing,” He admonished. “I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of everything. Just rest.”

“I’m cold,” You said piteously, beginning to cry.

“I know,” He said again, stroking a strand of your hair from your forehead. “It’s the fever. I can’t make you warmer or you could die.”

“It hurts,” You said. “Let me die.”

“Don’t say that. You’ll be alright,” He soothed, laying you carefully back on the bedroll. “Let me get your medicine.”

Every day, Alexei woke you four times a day for your breathing treatment, which consisted of steeping the peppermint leaves in boiling water and having you inhale the vapor, and to take some fluids, usually water, tea, or broth. He stuck to this schedule without fail, and while it irritated you, you knew somewhere in your subconscious that he was saving your life. The peppermint vapor helped ease your breathing some and the willow bark prevented the fever from becoming dangerous, but it still felt as though you were dying.

Five days in, he woke you for your treatments.

“No, I can’t,” You cried weakly.

“Yes, you can,” He said patiently. “But I want to show you something first. Let’s sit you up, pet.” He lifted you up gingerly and sat behind you so that you were resting with your back to his front and your head on his shoulder. “Can you open your eyes?”

Your eyes felt glued together, but you managed to pry them open. “What do you want to show me?”

“Look,” He said, pointing at the wall where the fireplace was. “Can you see?”

It took a moment for your eyes to focus, but when it did, you saw flowers. Hundreds, thousands of tiny flowers painted on the wall. It was a field, a meadow, and a sweet little cottage sat in the middle next to a small pond. Every color you could think of waved in the painted breeze. It was dusk, and the sky was pink-gold with fluffy clouds of silver floating along it. Little ducks, chickens, and baby goats gathered around the steps to the cottage, and there, a woman who looked much like you stood scattering seeds from a basket on her arm. She wore a crown of flowers on her head.

“Oh,” You breathed, a tear rolling down your cheek as your body trembled weakly against his. “It’s beautiful.”

He rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “I’m glad you like it. I worked on it while you were sleeping. I was going to just paint a small piece of wood with flowers and fruit for you to carry in your pocket, but… it didn’t feel good enough.”

“I would have loved that, too,” You said. “Won’t you get in trouble with the landlord for this?”

“I asked permission,” He said softly into your hair.

You began to sob. “It’s the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I just wish I weren’t dying so I could enjoy it properly.”

“You’re not going to die, love,” He said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and rocking you gently side-to-side. “I won’t let you. You have a fiance to piss off; you can’t die before then. I’m looking forward to the day when I can watch you tell him to stick that contract where the sun don’t shine.”

You laughed through your tears. “Why couldn’t I haven’t been promised to you instead?”

He laughed, too. “You’re too independent and headstrong for me, love. I like women who can’t fend for themselves. They don’t realize what I twat I am.”

You chuckled. You spent a few minutes in silence, staring at the lovely gift Alexei had made for you. And then it was time for tea and treatments before he let you rest again, all the while he stroked your hair and hummed a soft tune under his breath.

It took eight days for the fever to break. Thankfully, you were unconscious for most of it, since consciousness was nothing short of torture. You couldn’t eat and could barely swallow. Every breath was like your lungs were catching fire over and over again.

Once the fever broke and you were able to stand up, Alexei paid a substantial amount to rent you a private bathing room with soaps, shampoos, fruit, cheese, and wine. Every luxury had been seen to and Alexei had spared no expense. When you offered to pay him back, he simply ruffled your hair and told you not to worry about it, saying that you’d earned a nice day for yourself.

He asked your coworker, Ellie, to help you wash up and to watch over you, since you were still weak and had a terrible cough. It was nice to have another friend sitting with you to talk; you hadn’t really had a girl-friend before.

Thanks to Alexei, you didn’t end up dying, but recovery was painfully slow. By the time the six months of the marriage was up, you’d only just started to feel like your old self again, but you still tired easily and couldn’t push yourself for too long.

The two of you packed your room to travel back to Red Landing, selling the furniture you’d purchased when first arriving in Dunmountain.

“Are you ready to go back?” Alexei asked as he helped you up into the driver’s box.

“Not really,” You said. “I’m not looking forward to facing my parents. Or Gregory. Just because I know he’ll be utterly obnoxious about it.”

“Well, don’t worry about a thing, pet,” He said. “If the bastard tries to make off with you like a prowler in the night, I’ll be there to stop him.”

You smiled at him. “Thank you. I’m glad to have you as a friend, Alexei. I’m sorry if I ever insinuated that you weren’t.”

“Water under the bridge, my pet,” He said, patting your hand before trotting around the mule and hopping up to sit next to you. “Shall we?”

“Eh?” You said with a noncommittal shrug. Laughing, he took that as a yes and snapped the mule to movement.

The trip back was comfortable, despite your nerves, and took far less time than the trip to Dunmountain had, since you were walking for half of that one. The two of you either slept in the vardo or rented a room at an inn. After six months of sharing a space, sleeping in the same room was second nature by now, so there was no reason to rent two rooms.

When you reached the boundaries of Red Landing, you wrapped your arms around yourself and took a large breath.

“You’ll be alright, pet,” Alexei said. “If things get too badly out of hand, I have no qualms about loading us back up and doing a legger.”

You smiled. “That’s good to know, I’ll keep it in mind.” You pointed at the crossroads. “Take a left at this fork.”

He nudged the mule left, and it took you out of the marketplace and down the residential track.

“Here. We’re here.”

He stopped the wagon in front of a modestly built wooden house with shuttered windows open in the breeze; your mother had always said that glass was an unnecessary luxury and not worth the cost. There was a simple garden and an apple tree planted next to the walkway up to the front door surrounded by a low stone wall and a wooden gate, which was open.

“That’s odd,” You said as Alexei helped you down. “The gate is never left open.”

“Could they be expecting someone?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” You replied. “All of the windows are open, too. That’s unusual.”

“It’s a nice day,” Alexei said. “They could just be enjoying the fresh air.”

You shook your head. “No, this isn’t like them.”

“Do you think something could be wrong?” He asked, taking you by the forearm and stopping you cautiously.

Before you could respond, your mother appeared at one of the windows, crying out.

“Oh!” She said, her hands to her mouth. “You came back! John, she’s back!”

She disappeared from the window and a few seconds later, the door flew open. She launched herself out of it and into your arms, brushing past Alexei to do so.

“Oh, I’m so happy to see you!” She cried into your shoulder. “I didn’t know if you’d ever return.”

Your father, a gruff looking man with a short beard, came out too. He was less talkative than your mother, but he gathered you up in his arms and held you tight for a moment, releasing you with nary a word, though a small tear fell down his cheek and disappeared into his whiskers.

“Hi, Papa,” You said. “Hi, Mama.”

“Oh, darling, we were hoping you’d come back! We left the windows open, so we could hear you coming. They’ve been open every day since you disappeared.”

You sighed, feeling guilty. “I’m sorry I vanished on you without saying anything. But you understand why I had to do that, don’t you?”

You mother regarded you warily. “Darling… you know how important the investment is for us. We had so many plans.”

“Mother,” You said sternly. “I’m not marrying that man.”

“Be reasonable,” She pleaded. “We can do so much once our business gets off the ground. For you, as well.”

“I don’t think there’s anything unreasonable about wanting to be treated like a human being and not a possession to be sold,” You said, your voice raised. “What happened to you two? What happened to working for what you want? What happened to never trusting a gift? Do I mean so little to you that you’d make a deal with the devil so that you don’t have to work anymore?”

“I can’t believe how ungrateful you are!” Your mother replied, scowling. “Do you know how long we had to wait for this? Do you know what we sacrificed for you?”

“I never asked you to sacrifice anything for me!”

Your mother slapped you. “Don’t raise your voice to your mother!”

Suddenly you were yanked back. Alexei had pulled you behind him and stood between you and your parents.

“I understand family matters can get heated,” He said evenly. “But I must insist that you not strike my wife. She’s still recovering from being quite ill.”

“Wife?” Your father repeated, the first thing he’s said since you returned. “What’s this about a wife? Who are you?”

You heard that but not that I was ill? You thought bitterly.

“My name is Alexei,” He said, his voice deep and imposing. “I’m your daughter’s husband.”

There was an awkward silence as your parents took that information in.

“Why don’t you come in and we can… discuss this,” Your father said, motioning for your mother to follow him inside.

Before you could follow after them, Alexei stopped you. He touched your chin and tilted your head, examining the cheek where your mother had struck you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” You replied. “Let’s get this over with. It’s going to be painful, either way.”

He grimaced and opened his mouth to say something, but thought the better of it and shut it again, stepping aside to let you pass.

Inside, your mother was setting out tea. Your father sat in his usual chair with his arms folded, looking at Alexei unfavorably. You frowned at him. It’s a little late to be playing the concerned father, isn’t it, Papa?

Your mother sat down next to your father across the table from you. You took the marriage license from your bag as she set out the teacups and unfolded it showing them.

“You can inspect it and send a letter to the magistrate, if you wish.”

Your mother cleared her throat, not looking at the document. “So… how did the two of you… meet?”

You tried to answer, but you felt your mouth dry up.

“She took shelter from the rain in my carriage one night, actually,” Alexei said, laughing a little. “I didn’t even notice her until the next day halfway through my journey. But when I did, it was love at first sight. I did everything I could from that moment on to woo her.”

“How soon after you met did you marry?”

“Three days.”

Both your mother and father’s eyes shot to you suspiciously. You felt the weight of their scrutiny, but didn’t flinch.

“What is it about our daughter you fell in love with?”

You were slightly concerned that Alexei wouldn’t be able to come up with anything, but to your surprise, he answered without hesitation.

“She’s a self-starter, fiercely independent, and has an amazing work ethic, which I imagine is thanks to you.” He gestured at your parents. “She’s headstrong and funny and makes faces when I tease her and is genuinely fun to be around. Not a dull day since I met her.” He turned to look at you fondly. “She’s spent all of our marriage taking very good care of me. Better care than anyone ever has. She’s the only family I’ve ever had, and that means more to me than I can ever express. I count myself blessed to have met her, and doubly blessed to be her husband.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly. He sounded so sincere.

“What about you, dear?” Your mother asked, still looking unmoved. “What is it about Alexei you fell in love with?”

You sat and thought. “I’ll admit, when first the idea of marrying Alexei was presented, I didn’t want to do it.” You didn’t mention that it was you who brought it up. “But Alexei has never been anything but kind to me. He’s silly and talented and he laughs a lot and is never bothered by anything. Not until…”

You stared at your hands, trying to recall the time you’d been ill. “I got sick. Very sick. I almost died, I think. He took care of me. It took a long time for me to get better, and he was there the entire time. He painted an entire wall with flowers and ducks and pretty things for me to look at, just because I’d said I wanted a little painting to brighten up our room. He spend a lot of money for several months on medicine to help me get better. He never got mad at me, never impatient, never frustrated. He didn’t give up on me even when I wanted to die so that the pain would stop. He’s my husband, but he’s also my best friend, and I’m lucky to have him as both.”

That was a hell of a revelation to come to sitting right in front of your parents being interrogated about your fake marriage. Without looking at each other, Alexei flipped his hand and reached for yours, and you took it. He squeezed your fingers firmly. Don’t worry, He seemed to say. Just say the word and we can run.

“So, are you a man of means, Alexei?” You mother asked. “Can you take care of our daughter financially?”

“She’s more than capable of doing that herself, you know,” He said levelly. “But yes. I’m a fairly well known painter and I have a decent nest egg set aside to build a home. If the underlying question is, ‘am I going to give you money in exchange for your daughter as if she were goods to be bartered for,’ the answer is no.”

Your father got red in the face and your mother sputtered. You didn’t even try to hide your smug smile.

“Darling,” Your mother said, turning to you and pleading. “It’s not too late to fix this. You can still annul the marriage and marry Gregory. He’ll straighten up after he’s married, most men do!”

You sighed and rubbed your temples in frustration. “Look,” You said, pulling out your coin purse. “This is all the money I took, plus a little more. Since money seems to be the only thing you care about, take this. I don’t owe you anything anymore.”

“I can’t believe you’re doing this to us,” Your mother said angrily, shoving the license back across the table. “After everything we’ve done for you.”

“What? What have you done for me, Mother? You did what you were supposed to do when people have children? Had a child and then raised that child? You don’t get a reward for doing what you’re supposed to do; you taught me that, for God’s sake!”

Your father slammed his hand down on the table and you jumped, letting out a startled squeak. He stood up, his eyes dark.

“Perhaps…” He said slowly. “It’s best if you leave.”

You felt stung. “Happily,” You said, snatching the license from the table and stuffing it in your bag. “I have a feeling that I won’t be back this time.”

“Are we off, then, my pet?” Alexei asked casually, standing and reaching to take your bag.

“Yes,” You said through your teeth. “For good.”

“As you wish, pet,” He replied, taking your hand and wrapping it around his arm. “There’s a lovely tavern a little east of here we might stay. It’s less…” He turned back and looked your parents up and down pointedly. “Money-hungry.”

You asked Alexei if you could ride in the vardo and he was agreeable. As soon as Alexei snapped the reins and the mule lurched forward, you began to sob. You knew he could hear you, because the window near the driver’s box was open. He whistled loudly as the cart rolled, perhaps to disguise or drown out your weeping so you felt less awkward about crying noisily on a crowded street. You appreciated it.

The vardo stopped, you assumed in front of the tavern Alexei spoke of, though he didn’t hop down right away, simply sat in the driver’s box and continued to whistle as you cried. After a time, you pulled yourself together and forced yourself to stuff down the rest of your tears.

“Alexei, I’m alright now,” You said faintly.

He stopped whistling. “I’ll give you some coin. Would you mind getting us a room while I see to the mule and wagon?”

“Sure,” You said tonelessly. You climbed out of the vardo as he came around and held out your hand. Before he handed you the money, he took your chin and tilted your head up, looking at you in concern.

“Are you sure you’re alright, pet?”

You nodded but you didn’t meet his eye.

“I’ll see you inside. Wait for me downstairs and I’ll buy us dinner, alright?”

You nodded again and walked off wordlessly.

Inside, you paid for the room and bought two mugs of ale. Alexei came in after a few minutes and bent down.

“Anything you want specifically?”

“Doesn’t matter,” You replied flatly.

He walked off, and after several minutes he came back, picked up his mug and took your hand, pulling you to your feet.

“Come on, pet,” He said. “I’m having it sent up to our room. You look like you need rest. It’s been a long… trying day, and you’re still not well yet.”

You didn’t argue and allowed yourself to be led upstairs. Once inside, he put your mugs on the provided table while you sat down on the very small bed. You pulled the license back out and stared at it.

“I suppose we should find a magistrate in the morning,” You said. “Six months is up. You held up your end of the bargain. We can have this annulled as early as tomorrow afternoon and be on your way.”

He sat next to you. “Is this a conversation we should have now?”

“There’s no reason not to. I have to think about where I’m going to go.”

“Go?” He echoed.

“I’m not going home, clearly,” You said. “I have an aunt up north, but I don’t know if she’d be any more interested in taking me in than my parents were at listening to me.”

“You could always stay with me,” He said. “Annulling the marriage doesn’t mean we stop being friends.”

“It’s improper for a man and a woman to live together if they’re not married.”

“Who cares what’s improper? We’re adults, we can do what we like.”

“It’s alright, Alexei, I’ll figure something out. I’m resourceful, you know that.”

“I do know that,” He said, reaching over and taking the license, inspecting it. “What if…” He said slowly. “What if we didn’t annul the marriage? What if we stayed married?”

“What are you talking about?” You asked looking up at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but was saved from answering by a knock at the door.

“That’s our dinner, I expect.” He stood up and opened the door, taking a tray from whoever delivered it and closing the door again, putting the tray down on the table.

“Alexei,” You said, standing up. “What do you mean, stay married?”

“Well…” He said, not looking at you and bending over the table, busying himself with placing the food out. “It’s a mutually beneficial arrangement. And we’re good friends, we take care of each other. I can’t think of a single good reason not to stay together.”

“Well, I mean…” You started. “It’s not like we love each other, right?”

He didn’t answer, just continued fussing with the food. You stopped him by putting a hand on his shoulder and gently pushing him upright.

“Right?” You asked again.

He met your gaze, his face a little sad and anxious, and took a big breath.

“When we first got married,” He began slowly. “It was a laugh, something funny and silly to occupy my time. Teasing you was amusing, and I got someone to cook and clean for me as a bonus. I figured that at the end of the six months, I’d just walk away with the money having done my part and never have to see you again. I’d be one step closer to my goal of building a house for myself. I didn’t expect to end up as friends.” He dropped his eyes and took one of your hands in his. “I grew up alone. I expected to live my life alone, and I was happy with that. But when you got sick…”

“Alexei, it’s okay,” You said softly, squeezing his hand.

He shook his head, grimacing as if in pain. “When you got sick, I know I kept telling you to keep your chin up and that you’d be fine, but deep down I was panicking. I wasn’t sure if you’d make it and I was terrified…” His voice shook. “…that I was going to lose the only family I’d ever had. I didn’t sleep at night and watched you all the time to make sure you were still breathing. Whenever I’d try to rouse you to drink and you wouldn’t wake, my heart would stop. I was willing to spend every penny I’d ever earned to fix it. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, and I wanted more than anything for you to live. I wanted you to stay with me. I still do.” He looked up at you again, and there were unshed tears in his eyes. “So stay with me.”

Stunned and moved to silence, you nodded slowly.

He swallowed hard, leaned in, and kissed you. He seemed jumpy, as if he worried you might slap him and he’d need to hop back quickly, but you didn’t slap him. You stepped closer and put your arms around his shoulders, pulling him to you. He sighed in relief and deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling your body flush with his. He was only slightly shorter than you, so you had to tilt your head down a little to kiss him, but it was nice. It was comfortable.

Ignoring the food now, he took you to the bed, shedding his vest, tunic, and undershirt. He’d worn his best clothes to meet your family, but now they were left in a pile with your dress on the floor. He unstrung your bodice and you slid it off, pulling your chemise off after it. God, why did being a woman come with so many damn layers?

Finally, you were both undressed and crawled into the bed together, your limbs tangling together. He laid you down on the threadbare blanket and kissed you deeply, touching your body and spreading your legs with his knees. After a moment, though, he stopped and popped up in his hands, peering down at you.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asked, looking concerned. “I may have been a little overeager when you didn’t push me away, but are you well enough to… do this… with me? Are you feeling tired or sick?”

You giggled softly, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “I feel incredible,” You said. “Better than I have in a long time. It’s alright, Alexei. I want this. We never had a wedding night, after all.”

He laughed. “I think you’d have thrown a pan at my head if I tried.”

“You’re right,” You replied, pulling him down for another kiss.

He took his time exploring your body, touching and kissing and sucking. He nipped at your skin as he made his way down your belly, tickling your sides to make you giggle and squirm.

“I wish I’d known how soft your body was,” He murmured. “And how warm. I’d have confessed my feelings sooner if I could’ve just curled up next to you at night.”

“Flatterer,” You said, smirking down at him.

“Honest,” He said, kissing your hipbones. “To think, so many cold nights with this beautiful body lying mere feet away. It’s enough to chill a man’s heart.”

“Or something else,” You snickered.

“Speaking of which,” He replied, spreading your legs and kissing lower. His lips touched your… lips… and you inhaled at the new sensation. It wasn’t a bad feeling, just strange since you’d never felt it before. You looked down at him as he teased you, and he looked back up at you. You bit your lip and watched him as he finally pressed his tongue to your pearl, and he watched your flushed, thrilled reaction with fascinated intensity.

Shivers rippled through your body and you let your head fall back onto the pillow as he went to work pleasuring you, gripping your inner thighs tightly to keep your legs wide open. His beard tickled the sensitive skin as he pressed his face firmly into the hollow, pushing his tongue deeply inside you and wiggling it up and down. You moaned and tilted your hips so that he could get even deeper.

“Alexei, please,” You rasped, pulling his hair.

He raised back up, wiping his beard and reaching between his own legs to gently stroke himself. He kissed his way back up your body and braced on one hand as he pressed his cock to your entrance, pushing inside you. Your body opened to his eagerly, taking him in to the hilt. He moved slowly at first as he kissed you over and over, making a loose fist in your hair, but when you wrapped your legs around his and thrust your hips up to meet him, he began to speed up.

His lips never left your skin and neither did his hands. It was as if he couldn’t touch you enough, couldn’t get enough of how your skin tasted, and gripped you as if you’d evaporate if he let go. There was a strange, anxious tension in his body that you could feel in his muscles as he slammed into you over and over.

You were getting closer to the peak of your pleasure, you could tell he was, too, because he buried his head in the crook of your neck and clung to you as if he were drowning. His movements were precise and rigorous. His grunting grew louder and faster, joining with your moans and gasps. You gripped his back and dug your nails into his skin, whimpering “yes! yes!” over and over.

He suddenly popped up on his hands, thrusting frenetically before giving a shout and going completely rigid, his forehead pressed against yours. You cried out right afterward, grinding your clit against his body and riding out your orgasm as he released inside you.

The two of you were locked in place, gasping for air. He finally collapsed sideways, sliding wetly out of you, and drew in deep breaths. When the two of you had cooled down and caught your breath, he pulled you into his body, your back to his front, and locked his arms around you.

“Pet?” He said softly.

“Hmm?”

“In case I hadn’t made it clear, I do love you,” He said.

You laughed. “You couldn’t have done much more to make it plain short of shouting it out the window.”

“Do you want me to? Because I will!” He made to release you and reach up to open the window, and you grabbed him back, giggling.

“You silly thing!” You told him, rolling over to look at his face. “In case you were wondering, I love you, too.”

“Oh, that’s good,” He said with a smile, stroking your hair. “Was a little worried.”

“Well, don’t be.” You went in for a soft kiss, and then another, and another. “I’ll stay. Wherever you go, I’ll be with you. Because I want to be.”

He cuddled you in and the two of you slept.

A short few hours travel brought you to a meadow with a small pond. The field was full of flowers of all sizes and colors.

“I know this place!” You said as Alexei helped you down off of the driver’s box. “This is from the painting!”

“Very perceptive, my love,” He said, grinning. “I’ve owned this little stretch of land for a while. I think I finally have enough money to build our home. We might be sleeping in the vardo for awhile until it’s finished, though.”

“I don’t mind,” You said, turning and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I love it here. I wouldn’t even care if we slept in a tent as long as we could live here.”

He chuckled and kissed your temple. “I think we can do better than that, Pet,” He said. “Welcome home.”

Since my work is no longer searchable, please do me a favor and reblog this story if you enjoyed it. Help me reach a wider audience! To help me continue creating, please consider becoming a Patron or donating directly to my PayPal!

Thanks for reading!

My Masterlist

The Exophilia Creator’s Masterlist

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #satyr #strangers to lovers #Fake Marriage #arranged marriage #reader insert

331 notes · View notes

raziroo · 3 years

Text

Cotton Candy

Pairing: Lotor x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Saying "Shit" twice

Word count: 2,076 (yay) (also, I edited this, I still need to update the word count)

Author’s Note: I'm crap at writing dialogues, and this is my first time writing for a gay couple. I'm so sorry if it seems forced or unnatural or shitty. Don't be afraid to call me out.

Story Moodboard!

It’s with a grunt of effort that I manage to lift the carton containing the cotton-candy-maker.

‘Here, dad,’ I say as my dad takes the box from my hands. ‘That’s all?’

‘Yep, that’s all of it. We’ll conquer this carnival with our delicious cotton candy,’ I nod, doing jazz hands while saying the last part. Dad chuckles. I grin.

‘Hey, Honey!’ I turn back, squinting to spot where my other dad is in the crowd of bustling people. Where, where…? Yep, there he is – in his embarrassingly brilliant sunshine yellow and bottle green striped shirt and hot pink trousers, a sharp contrast to his natural bright red hair. Don’t say that it can’t look that bright; you’ll never know just how blindingly bright bottle green can really be until you see the shirt my dad’s wearing. And trust me, he usually dresses in simpler tones; such bland tones that you’d be surprised to know he was capable of wearing colourful hues as well. It’s only that he’s very passionate about his job, and so whenever we set up a booth in fetes such as the current one, he never misses to match the shop logo.

‘Hul-lo, father dearest, how seems to go your day?’

‘Oh, quite lovely, if I do say so.’

‘Well, that’s simply charming –’

‘Alright, enough,’ my other, not redhead dad snaps with an exasperated sort of smile on his visage. You see, my not redhead, a.k.a. brown-haired dad happens to be British. And that means that me and dad would rather paint our teeth blue than to not tease him. ‘You both need to shut it and start helping me with the decorations, now. You know I’m trash at all that.’

‘Aw, now don’t get discouraged,’ I say, patting dad on the back. ‘After all, not everyone can be as blessed as me, can they?’

‘Hey, why don’t you go look around for a bit? You’ve been helping out since before I have.’

‘Yeah, he’s right, pet. You should.’

I huff, rubbing my palms on the fabric of my jeans. ‘You guys sure? I’m not tired, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘We’re not worried, we’re just saying you should also get a look, you know? There’s a lot of surprising booths this time around. I mean, there are aliens participating too, so…’

‘Hmm,’ I play with my bottom lip a little, then, ‘yeah, okay. I’ll be back in like, an hour? Forty five minutes? Sound okay?’

‘Sounds great.’

‘Bye, then.’ And with that, I turn on the heels of my Converse, wandering about the pretty stalls and eager children and kissy couples and aliens with curious features.

It really feels bizarre, just how astonishingly fast mankind has accepted the existence of aliens. It seems simultaneously ages and just a day before when conspiracy theorists raged all around the world, presenting baseless theories and concepts as to why and how the three-man squad on the Kerberos mission disappeared. Then came the Galra, bringing along with them global terror – because alien life, intelligent alien life existed and humanity remained oblivious all these millennia, and now they were actually attacking us. It could’ve been, perhaps even was, in some other dimension, the end of Earth. But then a defender appeared; Voltron appeared in all its glory, bringing along with it proof that however much these purple aliens claim that humans are scum of the universe, humans were, in the grand scheme of things, the ones that saved the universe too.

It feels even more puzzling to actually be on a first-name basis with the leader of Voltron; that’s right, I’m personally acquainted with Keith Kogane. It was around six months after him leaving the Garrison did I come across him. He’d been loitering around the neighbourhood, had ended up in a fistfight with some other kids, and along with that a split lip and bruised cheek. I’d been watching. When the fight ended, I (somehow) persuaded him to come along so that I could at the very least provide him with a band-aid.

Long story short, we’d bonded over how our moms were no-shows and how dads were the best and we became surprisingly close friends; the only difference was that after the death of his old man, he lived alone. I’d been adopted by my two current fathers. I told him about how when they’d initially adopted me, I was excruciatingly shy. I wouldn’t even come out of my room except meals. It was only when I came to know that they knew how to make candy floss had I timidly approached them if I could have some, because previously I’d always been grossed out at the thought of having to eat that. I’d overheard this group of kids saying that cotton candy was actually just dyed granny hair, so that’s where that came from.

I love cotton candy now. So much so, that even at the age of twenty-six, I will pout if someone takes some of mine without my permission. As if I’d ever allow them to.

Speaking of Keith, I haven’t seen him in years. We lost all contact when he turned eighteen, and then he went off into space, and even when he came back, I didn’t get a chance to meet him. I bear no ill will, though. He must have formed some close relationships. Our past friendship is comparatively much more trivial.

I spot a booth selling grilled corn. I instantly head there.

As I’m about join the crowd of humans and aliens who also want corn, a familiar call of my name leads me to pull a three sixty.

Lo and behold. Keith Kogane.

Despite him having obviously grown a lot, the face was still the same. I’m sure that, if he gets a split lip and bruise on his cheek right now, he won’t look all that different.

There’s a questioning hesitance on his features; he’s probably wondering if he’s got the right person. My pleasantly surprised smile and raised eyebrows assure him. As I step away from the grilled corn stall, I notice a motley crowd behind him; some are purple, some are holding Voltron plushies, and some look way too curious to be in a carnival. The introduction is going to be fun.

‘Keith! You're gonna live a hundred years - I was just thinking about you. But anyways, it’s – it’s great to see you,’ I say with a little giggle. ‘Though I am kind of surprised you actually approached me. The sixteen-year-old you would never.’

He smiles awkwardly in return. ‘Y – yeah… I, just… oh God, this is – I’m sorry,’ he says, his inner turmoil evident.

‘It’s all good. I know you’re shit at small talk, so… like, introduce me? Maybe?’

He nods rapidly, brows furrowed. ‘Yeah, um,’ he turns to the people behind him, telling them my name, how we met, the whole affair. I give them a wave. Most of them greet me back.

‘And, this is Shiro and Curtis,’ he points to the tall, white-haired yet young man, holding hands with a tanner guy, ‘Lance, Pidge and Hunk,’ he points to a lanky, bright-smiled guy, a buffer, kind-seeming person, and a short chestnut-haired woman who, despite wearing baggy jeans and a baggier tee, looks somehow better dressed than me. ‘Then that’s Allura, Coran, and Romelle, they’re Alteans,’ a woman with enchanting beauty and a regal aura surrounding her, a redhead who’s significantly older than the rest with an impressive moustache, and a youthful appearing girl with a big grin, ‘and Lotor, he’s Galran. The Galran Emperor, in fact.’ Lotor is a tall, lilac-skinned man with aristocratic features who shares the same cheek markings as the Alteans. Oh, and he’s unfairly gorgeous, his hair a luscious mane of white which I just know will be soft. It’s hard not to stare. You remember how I said Allura looked like royalty? Yeah, the way this man carries himself, he has the aura and visage of a God. Even in a white tee-shirt and jeans he looks way better than should be legal.

I rip my eyes away.

‘So…are Noah and Oliver here too? I’d love to see them. I mean, I never did get to thank them to permit a possible criminal to sleep in their house.’

I laugh. ‘Never mind that, but we actually sit up a stall here. I could, you know, maybe even get you guys something to eat.’

‘Free? Please don’t.’

‘It’s nothing, really, just… I don’t know, accept it as a small thank you present for not letting the planet go to shit.’

A bit of thinking. Even after a nod from Shiro, it was Lance who said yes. Good ol’ Keith.

When we reach the stall, my British dad is the only one we find there. He looks up, about to say something to me, when he notices Keith.

‘Dad. You remember Keith?’

‘Your possible criminal friend who turned out to be the saviour of the universe Keith?’

‘That Keith. He wanted to see you.’

‘Oh? Well then,’ he dusts his hands, stands up, and greets Keith. Both of them engage in a conversation.

‘You guys wanna try something?’

‘What do you got?’ asks Pidge.

‘What do we got? Um, we got chocolates, candy, marshmallows, jellybeans, tortilla chips, ice cream, popcorn – butter, cheese, caramel, peri peri – Lays, like, a lot of Lays, and the good old cotton candy. What d’you want?’

So, after providing the humans with two Cream n’ Onion Lays, a pack of tortilla chips, a double scoop of butterscotch and chocolate, a small tub of popcorn, and three cotton candy sticks, I turned to the aliens.

‘I’m assuming you guys aren’t familiar with a lot of this stuff, so you could either pick whatever looks to be good, ask your friends, or I could recommend something. What’ll it be?’

Romelle was the one who asked, ‘What’s ice cream like?’

‘It’s sweet. It’s cold. And it’s like… heaven in mouth.’

‘Ooh. I want an ice cream. The… pink one?’

‘That’s strawberry. You can eat it in a cone, or in a cup.

‘What’s the difference?’

‘Well, the cup you can’t eat. The cone is like a crispy biscuit,’ judging by her face, she didn’t know what biscuit was. ‘I’ll just give you a cone. It’s all on the house, so no worries if you don’t like it.’

I watched eagerly as she licked the ice cream. An unreadable look crossed her face. Then – ‘This is almost as good as Hunk’s cookies!’

‘Really?’ Coran asked, twirling his moustache. ‘Well, then…’ he squinted to read the names of the various flavours. ‘I would like “cookies and cream”. Yes.’ A cone of cookies n’ cream was served.

‘Allura?’

‘Do you have something that isn’t sweet?’ That was a plot twist. I’d have taken her as someone who appreciated sweeter foods.

‘We do. You want spicy?’

‘…Sure.’ Peri Peri popcorn was given and enjoyed.

And last… ‘Lotor. What would you like to have?’

It takes me a lot of will to not laugh at Lotor’s way too analytical expression. ‘What would you recommend?’

‘Me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Out of all this stuff, candy floss is my favourite.’

‘Candy floss… the item that looks simultaneously like a cloud and an old woman’s hair?’

‘Yeah.’

‘I would like a helping of candy floss, then.’

As I hand Lotor a stick of cotton candy, I wait with anticipation for his reaction.

‘How am I supposed to eat this?’

It takes me a moment to process that. ‘Uh, you just… pinch a little of the stuff in between your fingers, then eat it. Or you could just, um, go in directly, which I’m thinking isn’t really your style.’

He narrows his eyes, but follows my instructions nonetheless. Only a second after putting the stuff in his mouth, Lotor purrs.

Everyone around him, being me, Coran and Romelle (Allura’s off telling Lance how great Earth food is), looks with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Lotor appears as if he’s just died inside. The berry-shaded blush on his face is adorable, though.

'I didn't, like, poison you or something, right?'

'No. It's that... I would never in my lifetimes have expected something so tooth-rottingly sweet to be this delicious.'

'So you're okay?'

‘Yes. In fact, I quite like… this cotton candy.’

I grin.

190 notes · View notes

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

Hi!! So I was listening to paper rings by Taylor Swift today and the lyric 'I like shiny things but I'd marry you with paper rings' made me think of coops and o'knutzy. Could you write a prompt about this?! <3

This song is so perfect for Coops and it’s the best way to start of the long-awaited wedding series! Yay! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

Combined with:

1. Domestic Coops

2. Remus making fun of Sirius’ initials

3. Sirius trying to make Remus moan while he’s on the phone with his folks

4. From @colored-rain: Taking Hattie to the vet

TW for mild smutty content, taking a pet to the vet, and the inherent stress of wedding planning

I: Six Weeks Before the Wedding

“Where are we even going to do this?” Sirius asked, running a hand through his hair.

Remus shook his head silently, pressing his forehead into the wooden edge of the table. “What if we elope?”

“Celeste would skin us both.”

“True. Oh, god, my dad would cry if we did that.” Remus slid down in his seat and stared up with sad eyes. “Can’t we just be married already?”

“I could get tinfoil from the kitchen and just…” Sirius mimed wrapping it around his ring finger and Remus snorted.

“Baby, I would marry you with paper rings, but I think we want them to last.”

“You like shiny things!”

“I do, that doesn’t mean I want tinfoil on my hand for the rest of my life,” Remus laughed, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Alright, let’s go through our list again. We agreed on small, right?”

“Just the team and families. We still want it to be outside?”

“Yep.” Remus checked off two boxes on the piece of paper they had been grappling with for the past four days. “Rings have already been ordered?”

“I’m doing that this afternoon. What kind of cake do we want?”

“Uhhh…an edible one?” Remus shrugged. “I don’t have a huge preference. Chocolate is really good but all the ones from the store are spongy.”

“Wow, an edible cake, so original,” Sirius teased. “We can ask Celeste what she thinks.”

“Good plan.” He paused for a moment. “Where outside will we do it? We need an actual venue. I think people would be upset if we just had a wedding in a public park.”

“The media would be all over it, too.” Sirius scrunched his nose up in thought just as their timer went off and both sighed as they headed for the door. “It’s going to be hard to focus on practice when we know next to nothing about the wedding we’ve been planning for over six months.”

“We’re disasters.”

II: Four Weeks Before the Wedding

“We’re not putting that on the cards.”

“Why not?” Sirius frowned and looked down at the mock-up invitation. “It’s our initials. It’s cute.”

Remus blinked at him. “Sirius. Your initials.”

“Do you not want my initials on our joint wedding invitation?”

“I would love to have your initials on our joint wedding invitation, except for the part where it’s the same acronym as ‘son of a bitch’.”

Sirius paused, then groaned and put his hands over his face. “Fuck, I forgot about that.”

“You forgot your own initials?”

“I forgot the son of a bitch thing!”

“Okay, I clearly don’t tease you enough for that,” Remus snickered, wrapping an arm around his waist to kiss his cheek. “Alright, attempt number eight is a bust.”

III: Three Weeks Before the Wedding

Sirius ran his fingers gently through Remus’ hair, feeling him shift in the darkness. “What’s on your mind, mon amour?”

“Are we changing our last names?”

“Did we…not discuss that?” Sirius wracked his brain, but it was so exhausted from wedding topics that he came up empty.

“I don’t think so.” Remus scooted around so he was on his side, facing Sirius. “Both our names are super connected to our jobs. Plus, Lupin-Black might be a little long for jerseys.”

“I’d rather not go through the whole name-change process.” There was a beat of quiet. “Though I do like the sound of Sirius Lupin.”

Remus’ breath audibly caught and he leaned closer to Sirius, nuzzling against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

IV: Eighteen Days Before the Wedding

Remus’ back hit the mattress with a soft bounce that was quickly stilled by Sirius’ weight pressing him down by the hips, his mouth skimming along all the right places on Remus’ neck. “Yes,” he hissed as Sirius ground down, their bare chests bumping together. He dipped his hands beneath the waistband of Sirius’ sweats and he shivered, nipping the hinge of his jaw.

“Wait,” Sirius gasped, pulling back to straddle Remus’ waist.

“What? Is this a flamingo moment?” Remus panted, still buzzing with arousal.

“Did we invite your parents to the wedding?”

Remus stared at him in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

“I don’t think we did.”

“Sirius, you are literally about to—holy fuck, did we invite my parents?”

“I don’t know!”

Remus groaned and let his head fall back against the pillows before tapping Sirius’ hip and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand and dialed his mother’s number, taking a few deep breaths to collect himself as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mom, how’s it going?”

“Oh, it’s going fine out here. How’s wedding planning?” Hope asked. Remus could hear her smiling.

“That’s what I’m calling about, actually. Did you—” He bit his lip as Sirius’ fingertips trailed up his thigh. “Uh, did you get an invitation?”

Hope was silent for a moment, save for a few rustling sounds. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think so. Lyall! Honey, did Re send us a wedding invitation?” There was a low humming noise as his father responded. “He says we didn’t get one.”

Remus winced. “Sorry about that. I can text you the details, if you want.”

“Will you mail one as well? I want to put it in our memory box.”

Sirius’ hand slid further along Remus’ leg, growing closer to his inner thigh by the second and doing nothing to quell his frayed nerves. “Yeah—yeah, mom, we totally can.”

“Are you alright? You sound a bit out of breath.”

“Hattie was running around and being a little crazy.” Remus covered the speaker with his hand and turned to glare at Sirius, who grinned and kissed his cheekbone.

“Okay,” Hope sounded skeptical. “So you’re not getting sick or anything?”

“Nope. Healthy as a horse.” The last word came out a little breathless as Sirius licked a stripe up his neck and bit down on the junction to his shoulder, making Remus’ eyes flutter closed. He smacked Sirius’ hand halfheartedly and felt him grin.

“How’s Sirius doing?”

“Fine, he’s fine. We’re a little stressed with the wedding planning and everything, but things are good here.” Really good, he thought as the heel of Sirius’ hand pressed down just next to his dick. He swallowed down a moan and squeezed his eyes shut. “Alright, I’ll text the details to you this afternoon love you mom bye.”

“Love you t—”

A millisecond after the call ended, Remus slammed his phone into the nightstand and pushed Sirius into the sheets, bracketing his face with his elbows. “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m just keeping things interesting.” Sirius tugged his lower lip between his teeth and smirked, which really left Remus with only one option: kissing him senseless until he couldn’t even remember his own name.

V: Three Days Before the Wedding

Sirius’ leg bounced up and down nervously and he gripped Remus’ hand as they waited in the lobby of the vet’s office. “She’ll be okay.” His voice was noticeably higher than usual and he cleared his throat. “She’ll be fine. It’s just a cough.” A cough that’s been going on for four and a half days.

Remus hummed his agreement, though he hadn’t stopped twisting Hattie’s leash in his hands since they arrived. “Just a cough. Probably a cold, or—or something like that.”

The doors ahead opened and both of them stood as Hattie trotted out next to the vet tech, who looked rather amused. “What’s wrong with her?” Sirius asked, scanning her for any signs of illness. “Is she alright?”

“She is a very talented actress,” the vet said, rubbing Hattie behind the ears. She whined pitifully and cuddled into Sirius’ side. “Have you two been busy lately?”

“We’re planning for our wedding.” Remus looked as confused as Sirius felt. “Why?”

“Because Miss Hattie here is one of the healthiest, snuggliest dogs I’ve ever seen.”

“But she was coughing.”

“She was faking.” The vet knelt next to her and petted down her back, raising an eyebrow. “Weren’t you, munchkin?”

“Hattie!” Sirius exclaimed, torn between relief and shock. “You little monster!”

Remus frowned and tapped her forehead lightly as he slid her leash on over her head. “We were so worried about you! Why would you do that?”

“She’s probably been sulking because you’re busy with wedding stuff,” the vet said with a smile. “Quite the drama queen you’ve got there.”

“Tell me about it,” Sirius huffed as he kissed her head. “Don’t ever do that again, young lady. You’re in big trouble when we get home.”

“Thank you for your help,” Remus said, shaking the vet’s hand. “We really appreciate it and we’re so sorry for wasting your time.”

“Are you kidding? She was the best part of my day,” he laughed. “All the other techs can’t stop talking about Hattie cuddles now. Have a good one, you three.”

+1: The Lions, the Media, and the Locker Room

Word spread like wildfire in media circles, and the rumor mill had never worked harder once news of the Black-Lupin wedding came out.

Naturally, the Lions decided to have a little fun with it.

“Pots! Pots, what can you tell us about Black and Lupin’s wedding?” Four different microphones were shoved into his personal space, but James put on his best confused face.

“What wedding?”

A wave of murmuring spread through the reporters. “So you weren’t invited to Sirius Black and Remus Lupin’s wedding?”

“There’s a wedding?”

Across the room, two other interviewers mobbed Thomas Walker in his stall. “Talker, do you know anything about Black and Lupin’s wedding?”

“Who?” he asked with a perfect act of innocence.

“Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.”

He bit his lip. “I don’t think I know them, sorry. Are they fans?”

“Talkie!” Remus tossed him a towel from the adjacent stall, and he caught it with a grin.

“Heads up, Loops!” Talker threw it right back and headed toward the ice baths with a wink to the cameras. “Good chat, guys.”

One of the interviewers muttered under their breath and hurried over to Pascal, who was still unlacing his skates. “Dumo, when is the wedding between Sirius Black and Remus Lupin?”

Dumo frowned. “Quoi?”

“The wedding. You were invited, yes?”

“Desole, je ne parle pas l’anglais,” he said regretfully. “C’est un…wedding?”

“Yes, the wedding between your teammates.”

“These words, I don’t know them.” His French accent was almost comically thick as he shook his head. “Desole.”

Out of view of the cameras, Sirius gave him a thumbs-up and reached over to high-five Pots.

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