#Look at how brilliant the green stands out! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

auroreliis · 4 months ago

Note

Honestly if I was batsis I'd pretend to have a crush on the batboys close friends(excluding Damian because he and Jon are still babies) just to annoy them. Jason bring Roy over? Suddenly I'm very interested in his tattoo's and I want to know all about archery. I catch kon in the kitchen in Tim? Suddenly i'm very into the conversation they're having and am making eye contact a lot with Kon. I feel liked they'd do something like this; Batsis: You know I really like your tattoos. Roy: Oh thanks. Jason: ... You gotta go, like, now. Roy: What-

Brilliant, anon!! What a great idea!! This was very fun to write :)

(don't mind the spelling mistakes please lol. i am tired out of my mind)

For starters, when Bruce first introduced the members of the Justice League to you (it took a lot of convincing), you just couldn’t help but flirt with them.

I mean, just LOOK at Aquaman. The moment you laid your eyes on him, you felt a spark. He hadn’t noticed you staring, but surely he had felt it too. Bruce, however, had noticed you staring. He didn’t seem particularly amused, almost as though he saw you daydreaming about your wedding with Aquaman. Just when you were making your way over to them, Bruce scowled and swiftly led Aquaman away. After that, you never saw him ever again…

Or that one time when Green Lantern came over. Wow. What a man. You didn’t waste a second walking up to him and introducing yourself. The giggles you were suppressing nearly slipped out after you saw Bruce’s eye twitch. Green Lantern entertained your advances, though you knew he wasn’t interested in you. Whenever Bruce started with his, “Hal. We should leave”, you would always interrupt him with more questions directed at Hal.

“So…do you like pasta? I’m actually really good at making it. You should come over, you know? I could treat you!” You all but winked at him.

Hal found it very interesting, don’t get him wrong, he thought you were very funny, but when Bruce is standing right there beside him, he felt…intimidated. So intimidated, in fact, that he can barely reply to your questions.

“Oh…um…” he nervously glanced at Bruce. “Green. You know what, kid? Your father and I have some business to attend to…so…see you next time. Good luck with the um…yeah, never mind.”

Hal sped off, leaving you and Bruce alone. You had been in the mood to laugh until your father turned to you with a serious expression. Suddenly you weren’t in the mood to laugh anymore. To put it simply, it was a clear warning: Don’t do it again, his look communicated.

Now, Constantine, he was fun to hang around with, likely because he isn’t as scared of Batman as the rest is. And also, he’s hot. “You are so cool, honestly. It’s really impressive how often you’ve escaped death”, you leaned against the wall. To be honest, you weren’t even listening to what he was saying, all you needed to hear was his strong English accent and little sprinkles of humor.

After some bribery, you had gotten Tim to tell you that Bruce was most concerned about you meeting Constantine. For some reason, you figured…

“So…I like older men, what about you?”, you batted your eyelashes at him. You didn’t have Bruce in your periphery, as you were focusing on John, but you could imagine him shaking in fury.

“Yeah, I like older men too”, he replied nonchalantly. Dammit, he got you. Well, he was a funny guy.

Bruce seemingly relaxed at that, but that’s not to say that he was satisfied with the interaction taking place. “You’re funny, are you single-”, you could barely finish your sentence before Dick dragged you away to spend time with you. Though, you believe that Bruce asked Dick to get you away just so you couldn’t talk to Constantine like that.

Bruce had way too many attractive friends. Well, almost all his friends were attractive: Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash…hell, even Martian Manhunter. I mean, he can read minds! Just imagine the potential…

“So, I heard you can read minds. Read mine right now”, your grin was…suspicious. Bruce couldn’t read minds like J’onn could, but he could imagine what you were thinking about. No, actually, he didn’t want to imagine it.

“J’onn.”, Bruce, ever so stern, called out and gestured towards the door. The J’onn in question had merely walked off in that direction silently, as though having understood Bruce’s point from one word. Martian Manhunter hadn’t read your mind that day, to your dismay. However, you had managed to make Bruce uncomfortable, so that was considered a win.

Dick himself had very attractive friends. Wally West, quite the flirt, was among them. Though, oddly enough, you had imagined him to be more flirty. It couldn’t be that Dick took a page out of Bruce’s book and told him to watch it, right?

“So, you’re fast, huh?”, you looked Wally up and down. “I happen to be”, Wally glanced at Dick.

“Okaayyyyy, Wally, you should leave”, Dick spoke with a strained smile.

“Yeah. Oh, by the way, what about the-”

“Now.”

Wally looked around awkwardly, “…right.”

And Raven—what a woman. Plus, Cyborg and Starfire filled your thoughts. Though Wally was the first and last friend of Dick’s you ever saw. A pity. He seemed to have learnt his lesson…

Now Roy Harper, Jason’s friend, was quite something. Tattoos? Archery? Hell yeah.

“Wow, so you like engineering books? Well, the manor has a huge variety. You should come by more often”, you smiled innocently.

“Um, actually, he will NOT be coming over ever again”, Jason frowned at your words.

“Why not?”, both you and Roy turned to Jason.

“BECAUSE I said so”, you and Roy made eye contact awkwardly.

“You”, Jason points at Roy, “Get out.”

“What? But you said you needed my he-”

“NOWWWW. Do NOT make me repeat myself.”

Yeah, Roy leaving was more awkward than anything else that had happened so far.

Jason didn’t have that many friends, as far as you knew at least. In other words: You would never see Roy ever again…

Now Tim, being charming himself, had many attractive friends.

For starters: Conner Kent.

You hadn’t had much contact with the Kents, however Conner had come over a few times. And wow. Despite being overly confident (and often obnoxious), he was very, very attractive. However, you have never talked to him. The reason? Tim makes sure he keeps you at arm’s length. In fact, you’re not sure you could ever find a way to interract with Tim’s friends…unless…

“Hey, Tim!”, Jason called out, “Bruce says you need to go to the cave right now.”

“What? But I have guests over…”, Tim eyes Jason suspiciously.

“I mean, if you wanna get in trouble with him, be my guest”, Jay raised his hands defensively.

“I-…fine. Conner, just a second, I will be right back. DO NOT move”, Tim sighs.

After Tim left, you shot Jason a thumbs-up and went to mingle with Superboy.

“Good evening. You must be Conner. I’ve heard a lot about you from Tim”, you say, taking it slow.

“Good evening! Hopefully you only heard good things!”, he grins.

“Oh, plenty of good things. Say, if you really can fly, then why don’t you take me for a ride? I haven’t ever seen the sky from…well, up in the sky”, you copied his grin.

“Ah, well, I would, really, but I’m not sure how Tim would feel, you know? I mean, he’s a bit of a-”, Conner started.

“A bit of a what.”, a new voice shocked the both of you.

Tim. Where the hell did he come from?

“I though I told you to leave if they started talking to you?”, Tim ignored you, only focusing on scolding Conner.

“Well, that would’ve been incredibly rude…”, Conner struggled to defend himself.

“You.”, Tim turns to you.

“Me?”, you said, though you weren’t scared of him anymore.

“Yes, you. What’s the big idea? Why did you pull that just to talk to Conner? I don’t know what you have planned, but forget it immediately. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll tell Bruce to reinstate the therapy sessions. Then you can explain to him why you enjoy sabotaging others so much.”

That was, quite frankly, terrifying. You hadn’t been this scared of Tim in a while.

Well, safe to say you won’t be doing this again…

618 notes · View notes

marauder-misprint · 2 months ago

Text

Slug Club

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

4.3k words

cw: fluff, drinking, smoking

“Did you have to take Regulus shopping with you?” Dorcas asks as you get ready for Slughorn’s party.

“You and Dory would have made me try on the entire store and then some.”

“Maybe so, but now he’s seen you in the dress.”

“So?”

“How are you going to have the moment when you walk down the stairs and he goes ‘Wow, you look dot dot dot beautiful’ if he’s already seen the dress?” Pandora asks.

You laugh and shake your head. “Someone has read too many romance novels. That doesn’t happen in real life and Regulus and I are just friends.”

“Did he not ask you to a formal party?” Pandora asks.

“He didn’t know it was formal when he asked,” you reply. “And he wanted to go with someone he could stand. I think the bar was set pretty low.”

“It’s Regulus,” Dorcas laughs. “That bar is high as hell.”

You and Pandora join her laughing. It wasn’t a secret that many people annoyed Regulus so he was picky with who he surrounded himself with. Well, as much as he could at this point. Barty had latched onto him during their first year and it was through Barty that Evan joined the group. You befriended Regulus during that year as well, bringing Pandora and Dorcas with you. So really, Regulus was friends with you and Barty, and you two came with baggage in the form of additional friends.

With your hair and makeup down, you go behind the screen to change into your dress. In classic Slytherin fashion, you had chosen a dark green dress and are pairing it with silver jewelry. You step out and do a spin for the girls. They cheer and whistle at you.

“He would so have a ‘You look beautiful’ moment if he hadn’t already seen the dress!” Pandora exclaims, standing up to fuss over you. “You look stunning, babygirl.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “Not to feed your delusions, but he’s only seen the dress. My hair wasn’t done, no makeup, no jewelry. He hasn’t seen the finished look.”

“He’ll be drooling when he does,” Dorcas says.

You give the girls one last smile and leave your dorm. It was time to meet Regulus in the common room and then head to the party. The girls, however, follow you out of the dorm. They were nosy and wanted to see Regulus’ reaction. Sure enough, Regulus is waiting for you, although his back is to the stairs as he talks to Evan and Barty. The other two boys’ eyes go wide when they see you. Barty lets out a low whistle as Evan turns Regulus around by his shoulders.

“Black is one lucky man,” Evan says, shaking Regulus’ shoulders.

“Who knew our dove could clean up so nicely,” Barty adds.

“Shut up, Junior,” you say as you approach them, although your words have no bite. You like a polite compliment, which, for once, these were.

“Wait, Junior, how are you not in Slug Club?” you ask.

“You set one too many fires and suddenly Sluggy doesn’t care how brilliant you are,” Barty says with a sigh, despite sounding more amused at it than upset.

You turn to Evan, “And you?”

“Apparently when a potion calls for frogs, he wants you to-”

“Ah,” you say, holding up your hand. “I remember that class now.”

Evan had cut open the frogs and was far more interested in its guts, muscles and other innards to finish his potion, earning him a zero for the day and detention.

“You do look beautiful,” Regulus says, not at all stumbling over his words as Pandora would have liked him to. “Shall we get going?”

You nod, take his arm and leave the common room with him.

---

“Prongs, come on!” Sirius says, annoyed that James hadn’t spoken to him all week and now was refusing to tell him which tie was better.

“You dug yourself into this hole,” Remus mumbles, not looking up from his book.

“Oh my god, it’s not a date! I just need to get into the party and Lily is my way in!”

James glares at Sirius.

“He’s only been in love with her since we were first years,” Peter adds.

“If you two had better taste, I’d be asking your opinions, but alas,” Sirius groans and turns back to James. “Please, James, I’m not trying to mack on your love.”

“What if she was going to ask me, huh?” James snaps.

“She said she didn’t want to ask anyone. That’s part of why she said yes.”

“All these years, I’ve been asking her and you ask once. Once! How the hell does that make sense?”

“Logic would say she fancies Sirius,” Peter says before immediately ducking to avoid a pillow thrown his way.

“She does not fancy me. If she did, I wouldn’t’ve had to swear on James’ broom that I would be on my very best behavior.”

James jumps up and grabs Sirius by his shirt collar.

“You damn well best be a goddamn gentleman all night, Black.”

“I will if you tell me. Which. Tie.” He holds up two almost identical ties and waves them in front James’ face.

James takes a slight step back and takes in the ties.

“This one.”

“Thank you. Was that so hard?”

“I swear, Padfoot, if you do anything-” James warns.

“She will be treated like the lady that she is, Prongsie. Don’t you worry one bit. I’m not making any moves on her.”

“So why are you so desperate for a Slug Club party?” Remus asks.

The boys had been wondering this all week, but every time they asked, Sirius changed the subject or found a reason to excuse himself from the group. He’d have to tell them eventually.

“Tryin’ to suck up to Slughorn,” Sirius grumbles, not looking at any of them. He focuses on tying his tie.

Peter snorts a laugh. “Yeah, right, sure you are.”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not. You’d be paying more attention in Potions if you were,” Remus says. “Try again.”

“I heard there’s going to be booze at this party?”

“More believable,” James says. “But you don’t need my darling Evans for access to booze.”

“Host, no. Drinks, no. Person?” Peter lists off.

“Person?” Sirius asks, turning towards Peter.

“Person,” he repeats with a smile. “You’re going for a person.”

“Oh, are you jealous, Padfoot?” James teases. “Some doll ask someone else and you’re trying to make her jealous with Lily?”

“Maybe I want an evening away from you bastards,” Sirius suggests as he finishes getting ready.

He hurries out of the dorm before they can get another word in. If they were going off the idea that whoever he was interested in was in Slug Club, hence the needing to invite someone, he had time before they figured out it was you he was going to the party for. Of course, they’d come to that conclusion much faster as soon as word got back to them that you were at the party.

Sirius was delighted to see that Lily was waiting for him in the common room.

“Evans!” he calls. “Sorry I kept you waiting. You look ravishing.”

Lily gives him a kind smile.

“Thank you, Sirius. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

Sirius spins, giving her a full 360 view. Lily stifles a giggle.

“So is James talking to you yet?”

Word had gotten out that James wasn’t talking to him fairly quickly, at least among the Gryffindors. It wasn’t hard to notice when the loudest of the Marauders were suddenly more quiet.

“Only after repeatedly telling him I’m not making a move on you.”

“A means to a mysterious end, that’s all I am to you?” she asks with a playful nudge.

Sirius shrugs. “The end is mysterious to me too.”

“Then why am I dragging you to this?” Lily asks more indignantly as they walk towards the portrait hole and out into the corridors.

“You’re not dragging, remember? I asked you.”

“You informed me, and I’m gracefully indulging you.”

“Same difference.”

“It’s not but okay.”

Lily wouldn’t tell anyone, but she actually didn’t mind that Sirius had insisted on going with her to the party. Not only did she not have to worry about asking someone, she did consider Sirius a friend, albeit using the term loosely, and she didn’t have to worry about any unwanted advances from him.

By the time they made it to the area Slughorn had reserved for the party, most of the Slug Club had congregated. The room itself was decorated to Slughorn’s taste, elegant with lots of greens in various hues. In Sirius’ opinion, it had a hint of old money flavor to it. And, to his delight, he spotted his reason for coming within a minute.

You and Regulus are chatting with Professor Slughorn in the middle of the room. Of course, there were a handful of other students around him as well, as well as some distinguished alumni. Sirius hadn’t considered that graduated Slug Club members could be invited. Lily takes Sirius’ arm and leads him in the opposite direction of Slughorn.

“Shouldn’t we say hello to the professor?” he asks as she pulls him to stand around an empty hightop.

“We will,” she says casually, looking around the room. “When there’s less people. Didn’t you see your brother’s over there?”

“Oh, is he?” Sirius asks, feigning having not noticed. “I didn’t notice. Suppose we can wait then.”

He had seen his brother. And, somehow more importantly, you. You in your dazzling green dress and silver jewelry that screamed Slytherin Royalty. He didn’t plan out all of tonight, but he knew he had to get close to you again, talk to you. The more he interacted with you, the more you’d have to like him. If you were going to claim to be a dog person, you had to like him. But until he could get close to you, he would chat with Lily. At least she was a decent conversationalist, given that in any other year, he’d rather die than be dragged to a Slug Club party.

After your initial greeting from Slughorn and the conversation turned more toward Regulus and the other Slytherins around you, you zone out. If anyone tries to get your attention, you already had planned to say you were admiring the decorations. Or that you were seeing which other guests you recognized. You cough to stop yourself from laughing when you see Sirius walk in with Lily. Regulus gives you a confused look so you gesture in their direction. His eyes go wide.

“Merlin…” he mutters.

You both quickly turn your attention back to Slughorn’s conversation, lest either of you be discovered staring at the Black sibling. You nod as the other Slytherins let out various words of agreement to something Slugborn said.

“Regulus, how is the Quidditch team doing?” Slughorn asks, changing the subject unexpectedly.

“Oh, ah, I’d say we’re doing well. Training tough like usual,” Regulus answers.

“Then you should meet Mr. Tradeswell. He manages the Magpies, as you know,” Slughorn says, draping an arm around Regulus’ shoulders and taking him to meet one of the older guests.

You give the other Slytherins a polite smile and follow them. You did not plan on being separated from Regulus at this party. If that meant suffering through a conversation solely about Quidditch with someone with professional connections, so be it. You were more than happy to be quiet and listen. It doesn’t take you long to zone out of the conversation again, only picking up bits and pieces.

“Regulus here is Slytherin’s seeker. Quite a talent, he is,” Slughorn was saying.

“Are you captain?”

“No, sir,” Regulus answers, his voice dripping with even politeness. You smile at how rehearsed his tone sounds to you. “We have a seventh year captain, and she’s brilliant on a broom. I have my fingers crossed for next year.”

Regulus shoots Slughorn a smile. He knows he’s a shoo-in for the role, especially if this conversation goes well.

“Ah, well, you know it’s more than luck to be captain,” Mr. Tradeswell says. “You have to know the game, your teammates, the positions, plays, everything.”

“Oh, sir, I do. I sub in for different positions during drills. I think that’s something a captain should be willing to do, have such a deep understanding of each position that they can fill in where they are needed most. While my specialty is seeker, I’m more than competent at chaser as well.”

“And your weakness?”

“Beater, sir.”

The man nods. “It’s good for a captain to be able to spot weaknesses. In yourself, in your team, in opponents.”

“I wholeheartedly agree.”

You scan the room. Sirius and Lily are off to the side of the room by themselves. He appears to be entertaining her, although she occasionally glances toward Slughorn. They hadn’t been to say hello to him yet and you knew that was required. It was why Regulus had dragged you up to him the moment you two arrived.

“Let’s just get it over with,” he had muttered to you.

And then you got stuck talking with him for what felt like forever.

“Are you on the team as well?” Mr. Tradeswell asks you, bringing you back to the conversation.

“Oh, no. I’m no good on a broom.”

“She’s being modest, of course,” Regulus says, wrapping his arm around your waist.

You flinch slightly at the unexpected touch, but you don’t pull away or remove his arm. It steadies you once you’re over your initial reaction.

“I can fly, but not nearly well enough to be on a team,” you say, giving Regulus a damning look. “I’m much better suited for the stands.”

The man laughs and your eyes find Sirius as he follows Lily toward the professor.

“Every team needs their fans,” the man says, giving Regulus a wink.

Lovely, he was assuming you were more than a friend. With his arm around you though, you couldn’t blame him. Mr. Tradeswell continues talking with Regulus and you’re allowed to let your attention drift. Why you kept going back to Sirius, you weren’t sure. Something about him being here was off putting. Even from a distance, you could see how uncomfortable talking to Slughorn was making him. He didn’t even try to hide it. He was looking everywhere around the room but at the professor and he kept shifting his weight. Unlike his brother, he didn’t have an arm around Lily, not even her shoulders or a linked arm.

Then he made eye contact with you and gave you a wide smile. You give him a nod in response.

“Pardon me, but I’m going to get a drink,” you say and Regulus’ arm drops from your waist.

He gives you a concerned look, but your relaxed smile calms his nerves about you leaving. He thought you were uncomfortable with the conversation, and while you weren’t enjoying it per se, you really just wanted something to hold in your hands.

You could have predicted that Sirius would excuse himself from Lily and Slughorn’s conversation as soon as he saw you leave his brother’s conversation. And that he did. He approaches the punch bowl at the same time as you.

“Darling, what a total surprise to find you here!” he exclaims, reaching for a cup.

“I literally told you I’d be here.”

“Did you?” He gives you his trademark lopsided smile.

“You didn’t seem to know what it was then. So how’d you convince Lily to bring you?”

“She asked me.”

You snort a laugh and pour yourself a drink. “Yeah, I don’t believe that.” You pause and sniff your cup. “Do you think this is spiked?”

“Do you want it to be?” Sirius asks with a cocked eyebrow.

“Godric, please.”

Sirius pours his own and sniffs it as well.

“Sad to tell you that there’s nothing good in here.” He looks around the room and then smiles. “But I see someone who definitely can help us.”

You follow his gaze to one of the younger older guests. You recognized her as an older Slytherin but you didn’t know her name. Without thinking, you start to follow Sirius as he walks toward the woman.

“Andy!” he exclaims, arms outstretched as you get closer.

Her eyes nearly double in size when she recognizes who’s approaching her.

“Sirius? I thought you weren’t in Slug Club?” she asks with smile that looks uncannily like the one on Sirius’ face. “This your girlfriend?”

You and Sirius both laugh awkwardly before Sirius hugs the girl, Andy.

“I’m not and she’s not. In Slug Club or my girlfriend,” he says before turning to you. “This is my cousin, Andromeda.”

You hold out your hand to the girl. “I recognize your face. You were a Slytherin, right?”

“Yes. As were my sisters, Narcissa and Bellatrix. However, I’m like good ol’ Sirius here. Disowned and blown off the tree.”

You recoil slightly, not knowing what that meant.

“I’m, uh, actually here with Regulus,” you say, looking over your shoulder at the younger Black. He is still deep in conversation with Mr. Tradeswell. They moved their conversation to a table and if your eyes weren’t mistaking you, Regulus was taking notes.

Andy laughs and you can’t help but hear the family resemblance. Regulus laughs like that.

“So if you’re here with Reggie, who are you here with, Siri?”

You look over at Sirius at the nickname that you’d never heard anyone call him. You give him a curious yet amused look.

“Lily Evans. Brilliant witch but not my type,” he says, ending the sentence with a more hushed voice. “Anyways, do you have anything to make this party more tolerable?”

She was definitely a Black. As soon as Sirius asked, a mischievous look shone in her eyes and she reached into her purse. She pulls out a handful of small vials of clear liquid. She claps them gently into Sirius’ hand.

“Don’t get caught, Siri. I’m still on decent terms with Horace. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Andy, you’re the best!” Sirius says, sliding the vials into his pocket but keeping two out.

He hands one to you and simultaneously, you cap them and pour the contents into your drinks.

“I’m not going to… wake up in Feldcroft or anywhere, am I?” you ask.

“They’re not that strong, darling,” Andy says with a smirk on her face. She was clearly enjoying this conversation as an unexpected delight to her evening. “But they’ll make the conversations feel less dull.”

“Okay then,” you say. You give Sirius a smile. “Bottoms up!”

You chug your drink. Sirius and Andy watch with semi-impressed looks on their faces. Once you finish, you hold out your hand to Sirius. An expectant look is etched across your face. He subtly shakes his head but hands you another vial nonetheless. You go back to the drink table to refill your cup. You don’t hear Sirius bid his cousin farewell and follow you.

“Didn’t think you’d be chugging, love,” he says.

You jump at his proximity. You automatically roll your eyes as you turn toward him and pour the second vial into your cup.

“You didn’t just suffer through a conversation with Mr. Quidditch Manager over there,” you say with a jerk of your head toward Regulus.

“Quidditch Manager? James should really meet him.”

“Whatever he wants to know, he can get from Reg,” you say. “I think he’s taking notes.”

Sirius laughs, “Of course he is… They’re a bit the same in that sense.”

“And that’s where it ends.”

Sirius sips his drink. You’re still looking at Regulus so Sirius has a moment to take in how being near you makes him feel. On his toes? Challenged? Alive?

You don’t seem phased when you turn back and catch Sirius staring.

“You like my dress too?” you ask cheekily. “So does Regulus. And Evan. And Junior. And Pandora. And Dorcas.” You smirk at him. “So join the club.”

Sirius hums and regrets what he’s going to say before he says it.

“It would look better on my dorm floor.”

You laugh. Loudly. Sirius certainly wasn’t expecting that and it draws the eyes of those immediately around you. It includes Lily and Regulus, although Mr. Tradeswell doesn’t seem to care.

“Yeah, sure it would.” You pat Sirius on the shoulder. “You’re not even one drink in and you’re saying silly things.”

“Habit, darling,” he says, trying to cover his tracks. “A flirt’s going to flirt.”

You roll your eyes at him, but he just smiles now.

“Actually, though, how about we step out to finish these?” he asks as he pats his pocket enough for you to hear the soft tinkling of glass.

You shoot a brief look at Regulus who has returned to his conversation. You were supposed to be his date. What about Sirius’ date?

“Won’t Evans miss you?” you ask.

“Don’t make me laugh,” Sirius says, already grinning. He could tell you want to say yes but are looking for a reason to say no. “As long as I… ugh, stay out of trouble, she doesn’t care.”

You purse your lips, giving Regulus one last look.

“Fine. You got any of those cigarettes?”

His grin gets wider, if that’s even possible.

“I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“Would you believe that I don’t drink either?”

You share a knowing look with him. Sirius throws an arm around your shoulder and guides you out the entrance of the room. You really hoped Regulus wouldn’t miss you too much, but he looked content when you left. You and Sirius don’t wander far. He turns into an alcove with a window. He cracks it open before leaning against the wall and fishing a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He hands you one and lights it for you.

“Just so you know,” you say, taking a drag, “I’m only out here because Reg looked okay.”

“He can fend for himself. He’s a big boy.”

You shrug. “He was pretty strung out that Sluggy wanted everyone to have a date for this thing.”

“A big boy who focuses on the wrong things… Most of the time.”

“He’s set to be Quidditch captain and his grades are nothing to turn a nose at. I’d say he focuses just fine.”

“Sure, but he’s in Slug Club.”

“So is your Lily Evans.”

“And she was friends with Snivellus until last year. Everyone has their faults.”

“Our faults are abandoning our dates to split mystery shots and smokes,” you say with a laugh. You finish your second cup, place it on the window ledge and hold out your hand for a vial. “Come on now, Black. Don’t be stingy.”

“You’re already a shot ahead of me.”

“And I’m about to be two. Give it.”

He gives you a look you can’t quite read before handing you a vial. You uncap it and take the shot.

“So,” you say after making a gagging noise, “Andy. What’s this tree she’s burned off of? You’re burned off of? Is Reg burned off it?”

“We, my parents have a family tree at home. They update it. And once you’re disowned, your face gets burned off. She’s engaged to a muggleborn so by family rules, off she goes. I ran away. Off I go.” He pauses and blows smoke out the window. “Your precious Regulus is still on the tree.”

“My precious…” you chuckle.

Sirius takes a shot. “He is yours, isn’t he?”

You immediately stop laughing.

“Regulus?”

“Yes.”

“No, Merlin, no.” You shake your head a little too fervently. “Friends. Just good friends.”

You hold out your hand for another vial. Sirius holds it out to you, but he doesn’t let go when you grab it.

“Are we friends?”

You narrow your eyes at him, trying to pull the vial from his grasp.

“Are we friends, darling?” he repeats.

“If it gets me this vial, yes,” you spit.

He lets go and you almost throw the vial to the ground with the force you were pulling it with. Almost. You uncap it and take the shot. You were beginning to feel the effects of your drinks.

“Why does it matter if we’re friends?” you ask curiously, although your face is wearing a cold expression.

“You’re supposed to like me,” Sirius says with a shrug.

“What?”

“You claim to be a dog person.”

Your cold laugh echoes around Sirius. It wasn’t the warm laugh that made his stomach flip; this one made it sink.

“You’re still on about that? I don’t get it, Black.”

“If you just gave me a chance,” he says, taking a step toward you.

You take a step back. “I did. And I decided your brother is more my taste.” You tilt your head. “He still is.”

“Why?”

“For the person he is.”

You snuff out your cigarette before it burns your fingers. You give Sirius a polite smile before turning to return to the party. You barely hear Sirius speak as you walk away.

“But I am a dog person.”

---

“Sorry I was gone for so long,” you say when you find Regulus.

You’re grateful he isn’t talking to Mr. Tradeswell anymore. He’s just sitting with other students.

“Where did you get alcohol?” he hisses, leaning toward you.

“Oh, you can smell that?” you ask, briefly trying to smell yourself.

He brings up his hand to stop you. “Yes. Now where?”

“Met your cousin officially. Andy. She gave some to Sirius and, well, he likes to share.”

“I think he likes you more than he likes sharing.”

You roll your eyes. “He just wants to be friends for some reason.”

“Yeah… Some reason…”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark, @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke

Can you tell I like ending chapters with little comments from Regulus? Also debating creating a series masterlist so I don't have to keep updating each chapter. Anyone got title ideas beyond "A dog person"?

#marauders fic #marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius black fluff #marauder-misprint #slow burn #slytherin!reader

234 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 9 months ago

Note

BRILLIANT fucking idea: SR reader insinuating/offhandedly admitting… she has never been intimate. everyone hearing it like 🧍🏾‍♀️ how do you mean. idk j the flustered bashfulness of suddenly being like “wajt wait if im her bf ,,, im her first love”

SCREAMINGGGGG

[Scarlet Ribbons index]

Giorno

Giorno is a bit strange because he almost wishes he had a predecessor to analyze (and completely outshine). He isn’t disappointed per se, he’s not that weird, but having more study material never hurts. Positive relationships are foreign to him, since he’s been distant from others most of his life. He got along with people well enough — he just preferred his own company. Now that he’s had a taste of your company, he’s keen on making it a lifelong occurrence. Overhearing this admission has him wondering if traditional courting methods don’t do much for you. Or, more realistically, that they go over your pretty head. He's witnessed you interpreting the gang's flirtations as platonic. Consequently, he gives considerable thought to ensuring this isn't a fate that befalls him. Corny as it sounds, his new dream is to stand beside you as your husband. He's chasing this goal without abandon.

Bruno

Bruno feels immensely guilty for eavesdropping on a conversation involving something so personal, but he couldn't help himself. An immense weight feels like it's been lifted from his shoulders upon learning you haven't gotten romantically involved with anyone before. This relief is followed up with sharp self-condemnation — as your leader, he shouldn't get involved with your personal affairs. Maintaining any professional distance is difficult though, especially when you're so likable. People are naturally drawn to you and he's no different. That's why this revelation comes as a surprise, albeit a good one. He tells himself he'd be happy for you if you loved someone else... however, deep down, he knows the regret would eat him alive. He struggles to concentrate the rest of the day. His mind keeps wandering back to thoughts of you, specifically, finding solace in one another’s warmth. The most innocent thoughts make his heart flutter, the man is smitten.

Fugo

Fugo almost renounces his atheism — perhaps there is a God after all. Then he's reminded that you're completely out of his league, submersing him back into the Nietzsche headspace. His self-esteem isn't the best, so the way he looks at it is if no one else was good enough to catch your attention, what chance did he have? It's a miracle you even put him with him. He's blunt, stubborn, and easy to agitate, yet you're one of the few people alive who don't treat him like a ticking time bomb. When his initial pessimism dies down, he fantasizes about you getting flustered by things like a first kiss. It's a cute mental image. Would you fidget? Accidentally bump heads and apologize? Get sweaty palms? Before he knows it, he's invented an entire storyline in his head. It's mushy enough that he struggles to look you in the eye the next time he sees you.

Mista

Mista pretends he knew it all along, as if the Pistols hadn't kept him awake multiple nights, speculating over your relationship status. The little fellas held full-blown debates. Since he's a chill, go-with-the-flow type of guy, he wouldn't have turned green with envy had he learned you former lovers. If they brought you happiness, who is he to hold it against them? Regardless, he can't deny his budding excitement. Should you reciprocate his feelings, you'll experience all your firsts with him. Those initial milestones are the moments that stick with people throughout their life. It's your first kiss in particular that he'd like to have for himself. He intends to sweep you off your feet — literally. It's got to be like those old Hollywood flicks he grew up watching, or what's the point?

Narancia

Narancia has to stop himself from audibly cheering. The multiple abandonments he underwent in the past has him latching onto the few people remaining in his life. This includes you, naturally. You've brought him so much joy, the risk of losing that, losing you, it's a fear that eats away at him. He worries that if you had exes, you might compare him to them and determine he's subpar. Then he'd be cast aside like trash as he had been multiple times before. These insecurities nourish his possessive tendencies. Learning that he has no exes to fend off is a great relief because he would've defended you viciously. It isn't until later that he daydreams over the more innocent implications, like being your first (and only!) boyfriend. He gets so preoccupied by the thought that he walks into a few walls.

Abbacchio

He's actually surprised to learn about this. He considers using Moody Blues so he can hear the entire conversation, but decides against it, believing it to be an intrusion of your privacy. Abbacchio's of the opinion that to maximize your happiness, you should find love outside of Passione. He wants that for you, and yet... his heart physically aches whenever the possibility crosses his mind. What's the alternative, then? Would he make for a suitable partner? He finds the mere possibility laughable. Your brightness would be engulfed by the gaping maw that is his existence. He considers this an empirical truth, not some 'woe is me' sentiment. Ultimately, anytime your love life (or lack of one) is brought up, he distracts himself, so as not to fixate on his shortcomings.

#giorno x reader #bruno x reader #fugo x reader #mista x reader #narancia x reader #abbacchio x reader #jjba x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure x reader #part 5 x reader #vento aureo x reader #scarlet ribbons #my stuff

822 notes · View notes

riddleswhcre · 26 days ago

Text

a whisper of serpents

tom riddle’s hissed parseltongue isn’t just words—it’s a spell, coiling around your throat, your thighs, and your will. with sharp wit and relentless control, he bends you to his pace, fucking you senseless while you writhe under the weight of his smirk and hissed demands. when it’s over, he leaves with your soaked tights in his pocket and your trembling body aching for more.

warnings: MDNI, characters are 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, smut.

mlist

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

cool air in the slytherin common room whispered along stone walls, and the green light of the magic lamp flickered. you sat in your usual place in the corner by the fire, scratching your quill on your potions paper. the air was filled with the smell of black and sand, a smell that reminded you of tom riddle struggling with essays and exams.

tom riddle. a name that evoked both ire and admiration in equal measure. the boy was brilliant—too brilliant, you thought, the instant his black eyes darted across the room to you over the desk. he sat at his desk, posture precisely straight, lips curving in triumph, as though he knew he would best you in tomorrow's potions.

“enjoying the thrill of inevitable defeat?” he breathed, his voice cutting as effectively through the silent room like a knife.

you looked up, decided not to let him bug you. “i’ll let you know after i see the marks. should i save a seat for you in second place, riddle?”

a dark light glittered in his dark eyes, and his smirk deepened. “confidence suits you. shame it’s misplaced.” the rivalry had always been this way—sharp, laced with an undeniable tension that neither of you acknowledged. still, tonight you noticed a difference. the second time tom spoke, his voice was softer and his rhythm was more even. he muttered something very quiet and soft that you couldn't really hear.

you froze.

it wasn't english. it was something ancient, something primal.

your eyes narrowed as you leaned forward. “what was that?”

“hmm?” he looked up, feigning innocence, though the curl of his lips betrayed him.

“that. just now. what did you say?”

he shrugged, turning back to his parchment. “nothing you'd understand.”

it clicked then, the penny dropping in your brain—you'd heard rumours, of course, among quiet whispers, huddled as your classmates were on hushed subjects. tom riddle spoke parseltongue, a gift said to be rare enough that not only did they not live alongside muggle-born witches or wizards, they would think those with parseltongue came from gods. of course, you didn't, though: a tingle down the back of the spine was left as well, it seemed.

in the following weeks you became increasingly aware of him. it wasn’t just his flawless academic credentials or the ruthless intellect he wielded as a weapon. it was also the way he moved, the way his voice slithered into that serpentine language when he thought no one was listening.

finally, one night, you stepped up your game and decided to confront him late at the library. the two of you were all alone in the room, and the silence was often broken by just the sound of a flipping page.

“you know, i’ve been meaning to ask,” you said, doing your best to sound casual, “how does it feel to be a walking myth?”

tom didn’t even look up. “you’ll need to be more specific.”

you rolled your eyes and moved to stand beside his table. “don’t play coy. parseltongue.”

this time his head cocked, slight but a glimmer of interest on his face. “what about it?”

“i’ve been listening to you,” you said, your voice lower now. “in the common room. during herbology, when you thought no one was listening. you do that on purpose, don’t you?”

"maybe,” he said slickly, leaning back in his chair. your eyes met his dark eyes, and for a single moment, you forgot how to breathe. “does it bother you?”

“no.” words came out a little too fast. you cleared your throat. “well, it's unusual, but no…”

suddenly his gaze became sharp.“unusual,” he repeated, his voice lowered a shade. “that's one way to put it.”

something seemed to shift in the air between the two of you. it was slight, so fine as to be almost imperceptible; but the weight of his attention pressed against your skin, and you found yourself unable to look away.

“you like it,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

“i didn’t say that.”

“you didn’t have to.”

from then on, tom appeared to seize every opportunity to taunt you, slipping into parseltongue during your arguments or mumbling it just close enough that only you could hear. every time, your pulse raced, your cheeks flushed, and you hated how easily he unravelled you.

one evening, you’d reached your limit.

you knew you’d find him alone in the common room. and there he was, his long fingers expertly flipping through the pages of the thick, ancient tome. he didn’t look up as you approached, but you knew he sensed you there.

“do you enjoy torturing people, or just me?” you demanded.

a corner of his mouth lifted. “you make it so entertaining.”

“you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, here you are.”

you were about to shoot back a retort, but the words failed you when he spoke again.

“come closer,” he said, in parseltongue, the words coiling around you like a corporeal touch.

your knees weakened. you hated him. you hated how much you needed him.

“what did you say?” you said, though you knew perfectly well.

tom stood, the motion smooth, predatory. he moved closer enough that there was hardly space between you, breath ghosting against your cheek.

“do you really want to know?” he said, reverting to english.

“yes.”

a certain tension crackled between you, thick and unrelenting. tom’s dark eyes were locked onto yours, the corner of his mouth twitching in the ghost of a smirk. his presence was magnetic as if he had a gravitational pull, and while all logic and reason screamed at you to step back, your feet remained rooted in place.

“tell me what you said,” you ordered, but your voice didn’t follow you with the tone.

tom cocked his head and examined you as though you were some especially intriguing puzzle. “why?” he wondered, his voice silky smooth.

“because—” your words abandoned you as he closed the distance, the faint scent of parchment and dark spice encircling you. “because i want to know.”

he smiled a little wider, a little deeper, and he tilted his head down just enough that his lips almost brushed against your ear. “do you?” he said in parseltongue, the syllables curling through you like a forbidden spell.

a shiver surged through your body, involuntary and ungovernable. heat rushed to your cheeks, and your breath caught. the language was intoxicating, the sound of it vibrating in a place you didn’t know existed.

“stop,” you gasped, although your hands betrayed you, the fingers curling into the edge of the table behind you for support.

“stop?” tom echoed, half mockingly, half in wonder. his hand lifted, lightly sweeping a single lock of hair away from your face, deliberately slowly. his touch was cold, his fingers grazing your cheek before retreating. “you don’t want me to stop.”

you opened your mouth, but you couldn't deny it: the words died on your tongue; and before you could think of anything to say, he spoke again, soft and low.

“do you know what i’m saying?” he asked, his tone nearly tender now. “do you feel it?”

“i can’t understand it,” you confessed, voice barely at a whisper.

“but you like it,” he whispered, his lips brushing so close to your ear you could sense the warmth of his breath. “you like how it feels.”

your knees buckled a bit, tom’s hand flying out, gripping your waist, steadying you. his grip was solid and his fingers sprawled over the curve of your hip as though staking a claim.

“you’re flushed,” he observed, his voice nearly clinical. “your breathing is uneven. your pupils are dilated. all from a few words.”

“shut up,” you said, not without heat, but there was a tremor running through you.

“why should i?” he dared, the grip tightening just enough to get your adrenaline-fuelled. “you’re mine to unravel, aren’t you?”

the audacity of his words sent a surge of defiance through you. you threw your hands up and pushed against his chest, though it was a half-hearted attempt at best.

“you’re insufferable,” you hissed.

“and yet,” he drawled, his lips twisting as he leaned in closer, “here you are, trembling in my arms.”

he didn't waste any time; it was almost startling intense when his hand caught your chin before his lips crashed into yours, fierce and unrelenting. the kiss was searing and desperate, like a starved man. his other hand found its place at your waist, tugging you closer until even the air dared not to linger between your bodies.

his lips were demanding, his movements precise but passionate. the hand on your chin moved in your hair and tangled in such a possessive way while tilting your head to kiss deeper. an involuntary sound came out of your mouth; it was a soft whisper surrender, which tom devoured greedily. his tongue teased the seam of your lips, coaxing, commanding, until you parted them to let him inside.

he was dark and heavy, sweet and dangerous like stolen wine tempered with poison. his body pressed against your own—firm and unforgiving. his hands moved with unerring confidence, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your back, as if he had memorised every contour. it was a heady contradiction between precision and raw need, leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

the next you know, the edges of the common room table were cutting into your thighs as he turned you with a masterful grip while manoeuvring effortlessly; books and parchment flew in a frenzy, pages whispering against the stone floor, but it seemed like tom had no time nor paid any attention to it. the dark glint in his eyes promised that he was completely absorbed in you.

he bent you over the table, leaving you no time to protest or think. the cold surface was nothing like your flushed skin. you gasped when he started to push your skirt up with deliberate, unhurried hands. the sound of impact between his palm and your skin broke the weighty silence, leaving a swift sting and warmth behind with it.

the sensation sent a jolt through you, heat pooling, making your folds wet and insistent as his touch lingered. tom’s presence was overwhelming, his control absolute, but there was something in his movements—some barely contained intensity—that betrayed just how deeply you unravelled him.

“t-tom… what are you doing?” your voice trembles, a mixture of nervousness and anticipation slipping through as the words escape your lips. your body betrays you, shivering under the chill of the room’s air, your bare skin prickling with goosebumps. the vulnerable position you're in only heightens your awareness, thoughts swirling chaotically in your mind. tom noticed. of course, after all he’s very skilled at legilimens.

tom’s breath brushes against you, sending an electric charge down your spine. “so eager for me,” he murmurs, his voice dark and laced with something primal. the unfamiliar hiss of parseltongue wraps around the words, a forbidden melody that makes your body react instinctively. your core tightens in response, a flutter of sensation you can’t suppress.

“what… what does that mean?” you stammer, craning your neck to catch a glimpse of him. your breath hitches as your eyes meet his—a smouldering gaze fixed on you, devouring the sight of your exposed pussy. his tongue darts across his lips, slow and deliberate, his expression one of barely-contained hunger.

tom doesn’t falter. every movement is deliberate, exuding raw confidence. in one swift motion, his trousers fall to the floor, pooling at his ankles. his eyes stay locked on yours, dark and smouldering with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. the air between you is electric, charged with unspoken tension.

his hands find yours, firm but not harsh as he guides your wrists behind your back. his grip is unyielding yet measured, a silent promise that he’s in control, but not without care. there’s no cruelty, only purpose.

with a sharp, deliberate tug, the material of your tights gives way, the sound of tearing loud in the charged silence. he doesn’t flinch at the destruction; it doesn’t matter. he can just get you new ones later.

the other hand grips his cock, his hard cock at the sight of you like this. with deliberate slowness, he rubs it along your wet folds, blending his precum with the heat of your arousal. his lips curve into a dangerous smirk as he leans close, the whisper of his breath ghosting over your ear.

"be quiet for me, sweetheart," he murmurs, the words curling like silk, dark and intoxicating as they spill from his lips—in parseltongue.

a shiver courses through you, a mix of the forbidden magic in his voice and the wickedly possessive way he moves. your moans escape, unbidden, half driven by the sinful pleasure of his thrust, half by the raw power that drips from every syllable of the serpentine language.

he thrusts into you, rough and unrelenting, his desire consuming him like wildfire. pain and pleasure blur together, and you feel the force of his need—not just a craving, but a deep, primal hunger that won't be denied. his movements claim you completely, leaving no room for anything but him.

a low moan escaped your lips as the sharp mix of pleasure and pain surged through you, his thick cock stretching you in ways you never imagined. the absurdity of it all struck you briefly—getting off to tom riddle speaking parseltongue, of all things, while he fucked you so thoroughly. this felt like a fever dream, surreal and all-consuming. you turned your head to look at him, needing to see the man unravelling you so completely.

tom reached for the hem of his crisp white shirt, tucking it between his teeth as he pulled it over his stomach. the fabric bunched at his chest, revealing the sharp ridges of his abs and the defined cut of his v-line. the sight alone made you clench involuntarily around him. his piercing gaze snapped to yours, and the subtle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth set your pulse racing. you hated that smirk—hated how smug he always looked. but merlin, he looked devastatingly good right now.

a muffled groan left his lips, raw and unrestrained. "f-fuck, yes. just like that," he rasped, his voice breaking as the shirt slipped from his teeth, falling to obscure his torso again. his tone dipped, sliding into parseltongue as his hips began to piston into you with relentless precision. "you take me so well," he hissed in that serpentine tongue, each word coiling around you like a spell.

your cheek pressed against the cool, unyielding wood of the table, a faint sheen of drool escaping from the corner of your mouth as you lost yourself in him. "tom, please," you begged, voice trembling with need, arching your back in a desperate bid for more.

his response came swiftly, cutting through the haze of your mind. "such a filthy little whore," he growled, the final word spilling from his lips in parseltongue, each syllable dripping with sinful allure. "so greedy for me." his hands gripped your hips firmly as he withdrew his cock, leaving you unbearably empty.

a whimper fell from your lips at the sudden loss, only to be silenced as tom flipped you effortlessly, laying you back across the desk. his dark eyes bored into yours, a dangerous glint of control and desire reflected in their depths. he didn’t waste a second, shoving his cock into you with a maddening slowness.

it was torturous—the deliberate pace, the teasing stretch that left you gasping and clawing for more. "tom," you whined, the word escaping as a desperate plea. he chuckled lowly, a sound rich with amusement and wicked satisfaction. "shhh, darling," he murmured in parseltongue, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke.

you didn’t understand the words, but they set your nerves alight nonetheless. the cadence alone sent a shiver racing down your spine. unable to resist, you reached up, cupping his face gently with trembling hands and pulling him closer. your lips met his in a searing kiss, your desperation pouring into it. tom responded in kind, his hips snapping forward with sudden force, tearing a moan from your throat.

tom seized the moment, sliding his tongue into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless. his kiss was relentless, consuming, leaving no room for thought. one of his hands snaked up to your neck, his fingers curling around it. he felt the heat of your pulse, the rhythmic throb against his fingertips igniting something dark and primal within him. his grip tightened, just enough to make your breath hitch—a perfect blend of restraint and domination.

it was all you needed. tom riddle, his hand firm on your throat, his lips devouring yours, sent your mind spiralling. a delicious haze clouded your thoughts, a mix of the airlessness and the intoxicating way he kissed you. he pulled back briefly, his piercing gaze sweeping over you, satisfaction flickering in his dark eyes. then, he leaned in, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth.

the sharp sting of his bite made you gasp. you tasted blood, metallic and warm, as his tongue swept over your lip, soothing the pain while claiming every part of you. the sensation of him inside you was overwhelming, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body. his free hand drifted from your neck, trailing lower with purpose. when his fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs, the pressure made you cry out.

“tom…” you moaned his name, the sound drawing a deep groan from him. his lips curled into a smirk as he watched you writhe beneath him.

“i’m close,” you gasped, your body trembling. the way his fingers moved, the rhythm of his hips driving into you, was pushing you to the edge.

“do it, whore,” he commanded, his voice low and laced with parseltongue. “come on my cock.”

the forbidden, guttural language sent you over the brink. ecstasy ripped through you, your muscles tightening around him as waves of pleasure crashed down. you cried his name, your legs wrapping around his waist, trembling as the aftershocks hit you.

tom’s control faltered, a guttural growl escaping his lips as he drove himself deep, holding your waist tightly as he cums inside of you. his hips moved in slow, deliberate motions as he rode out his climax, his weight pressing into you.

when it was over, he collapsed onto you, his breath ragged, his forehead damp with sweat. for a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your shared breathing. slowly, your hand drifted to his back, tracing soft circles until the rhythm of your breaths aligned.

after a while, tom pushed himself up, his expression unreadable. he muttered a spell, cleaning himself with a flick of his wand. without a word, he dressed with practiced precision, his movements calm and calculated. then, with another spell, he tidied you up, fixing your dishevelled appearance as if nothing had happened.

you adjusted your skirt, tossing your ruined tights onto the chair nearby before running your fingers through your hair. when you glanced at him, he was already watching you, his intense gaze locked on yours.

with a surprising tenderness, tom reached out, his hand resting on your cheek, thumb rubbing against it slowly. the simple gesture sent warmth rushing to your cheeks. you blinked, startled—not by his touch, but by the realisation that tom riddle, of all people, had just done something so unexpectedly intimate.

“i suppose i should speak parseltongue in front of you more often,” he murmured, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

you couldn’t stop the blush that deepened as he stepped back, his dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

with a flick of his wand, he summoned your discarded tights into his hand. “a souvenir,” he said smoothly, tucking them into his pocket before striding out, leaving you stunned.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵—𝘪𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦.

340 notes · View notes

bhaalsbabe · 1 year ago

Text

This bed has seen everything

Pairing: afab!Durge Reader x Enver Gortash

Label: nsfw

Word count: ~2k

Summary/warnings: MDNI, afab!durge, durge is a magic user, unprotected sex, piv, creampie, some biting on both sides (and both sides like it), choking (receiving), the glove stays on, Gortash is a simp for durge but what's new, Gorty is more dominant here

Author's note: long expected part two of This desk has seen everything. Please enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3

You need to focus or you'll get yourself killed. The Emperor's stern voice rumbled inside your head, the force of his mind pushing your urge back, enough for you to see clearer again. You were standing next to an open manhole. Looking around to figure out where you were, you noticed an undead beggar you ran into after entering the Lower City a day before. You sighed, rubbing your temples as you made your way back to the room you had acquired in Elfsong Tavern. As soon as you entered the main square, however, you were stopped by one of the steel watchers.

"Citizen, lord Gortash is looking for you. Please return to Wyrm's Rock Fortress immediately," its robotic voice said.

"And what if I don't return?" You asked, not in the mood to deal with both Gortash and this annoying piece of metal.

"Then you'll be escorted there against your will."

You frowned, thinking about your options quickly. You hated having to follow anyone's orders. At the same time, you weren't in a position where you could take out the entire city's guards, and while you could turn invisible to slip out of this steel watcher's grasp, you would have to show yourself eventually and be captured then.

"Fine, I'm going there right now. Happy?" Your voice was dripping with malice that totally went over the steel watcher's head. It continued standing there menacingly, watching you as you made your way out of the city again. You walked as slow as possible, wondering what awaited you.

Gortash wanted you. That much was evident. The surprising part was that you wanted him too. This man, who was ready to doom so many people for his god and hunger for power, who hurt Karlach so much and sold her to Zariel... You should hate him and be planning his assassination, putting a stop to all of this. Yet instead, you were thinking of how familiar his touch felt on your body, how it made your heart sing in a similar way as killing did. Even without the memories that would explain the reasons for it, you craved him, his brilliant mind and his reverent touch.

As you entered the fortress, you were greeted by the mechanical voice of the steel watcher, telling you that "lord Gortash is awaiting you in his chambers". Two guards, these made of actual flesh, then lead you to what you assumed were the doors to his chambers. You waited until they left before entering, your heart speeding up in anticipation.

The room was big and expensive looking. It screamed 'important person resides here'. Currently dimly lit through various hanging lanterns, you could still make out the prevalent colours, red and black, with occasional sprinkle of green. All the way back was a king sized bed with canopy, with its owner sitting on its edge.

"You gave me quite a scare back there. I thought you'd start a bloody rampage in the open." He chuckled but you noticed he sounded almost relieved as his eyes set on you. You felt a pull towards him, your feet leading you to the bed on their own.

"I warned you I'm not as in-control as you might think." You replied, stopping in front of him. The dark lighting of the room made him look more imposing and you had to admit, it suited him. Black was his colour. His smile widened as he caught you staring at him.

"Can't help yourself? I don't blame you~" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, instead choosing to ask the question that's been burning in you.

"What exactly were we?" You winced at how unsure and vulnerable you sounded. Gone was your usual confidence. When it came to your past, you were lost and helpless and it scared you. Part of you berated yourself for showing a weakness to an enemy of such status as Gortash.

But he didn't take advantage of it. His eyes softened and his flirtatious smile changed into a melancholic one. You had a strong feeling not many people had seen this particular expression on him. He stood up, taking both of your hands into his while gazing into your eyes.

"Allies," one of his hands left yours to wrap around your waist and pull you against his lean body. You let him do it, intuitively putting your free hand around him too.

"Friends," he leaned close to you, his next word whispered to your ear as if it were the most precious secret.

"Lovers." You heard him take a deep breath, almost like he was taking in your scent, his hold on you tightening for a brief second before he pulled away, reluctantly letting you go and stepping back.

Hearing him actually say it made a bit of your doubt and guilt go away. Of course your body recognised your lover, even if your mind struggled. You weren't betraying your friends by wanting to be close to Gortash. How could they possibly blame you for wanting someone you used to love?... You could easily do more mental gymnastics to defend your following actions if necessary.

Your breathing quickened as you pushed him back, making him fall into the bed, before climbing over him. "Good. Now I don't feel so bad for wanting to fuck you."

His eyes widened as he took you in, looking up at you as if you were a god, a self-satisfied smile stretching over his face.

"Old habits die hard~" He said before using his strength to flip you over. "You should know your place, however," his voice was deeper, his clawed hand wrapping around your neck, making it harder to breathe. You glared at him in defiance, displeased that he'd dare to do this.

"Oh, are you imagining slicing me open now? Frying me with you spells?" His eyes and voice were laced with amusement. He put more pressure on your neck, the sharp claws digging into the soft skin of your neck. He leaned close to your face. "Good."

The moment your lips connected, he released his hold on your neck enough for you to be able to breathe better again. His other hand made it's way under your shirt, mapping your body to his memory again. He sighed contentedly, almost getting lost in the simple kiss-

And then you bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood and to make him recoil in shock. He pulled away, touching his bleeding lip gingerly before looking back at you. His eyes seemed to get impossibly dark as he watched you lick your lips, stained by his blood. His pants got more tight as you gave him a mad grin, one that used to be on your face so often before your disappearance.

"I didn't think you still had it in you," he chuckled, looking way too happy for someone who could've lost his lip.

"You seem to be enjoying the pain. Aren't you supposed to be a tyrannical sadist?" You teased him, dropping your gaze at his quite visible bulge before looking back at him.

"Oh I can be, trust me, dear. You're just too special." He got near your face again, scanning over your features with his eyes. You could see the imperfections on his skin in return - the soft wrinkles around his eyes, the laugh lines, the scar on his chin - and as you shared this moment, you truly felt special.

You started kissing each other once again, more passionately and ferociously, both of you needing to feel, touch, taste each other. Gortash pressed his clothed erection against your core and you moaned into the kiss, your legs wrapping around his body to pull him closer, to stimulate the spot that was crying for attention. All of a sudden, none of you had the power to continue your playful banter. You needed him, and he needed you.

He started undressing you, his nimble fingers making quick work of your clothes and he didn't even have to stop kissing you for a moment. His hands kept exploring your body, squeezing in all the right places. He knew your body well.

His mouth left yours to kiss your jawline and continue lower, to your neck, your clavicle, and even lower, to give some welcome attention to your nipple. As he sucked on that piece of flesh, one of his hands started its journey over your inner thigh all the way to your cunt. He only dragged his finger through your folds, spreading your slick, and your hips buckled.

"Fuck... Enver, just fuck me already," you panted, your chest heaving heavily, your nails digging into his shoulders. He left your nipple with a 'pop', his dark eyes drinking in the sight of you before him, all desperate and needy, although he wasn't doing much better and you uttering his name didn't help.

"As you wish, my dear," he mumbled, removing his pants and underwear hastily. He didn't bother with prepping you, knowing you enjoyed the sting of his cock splitting you open and so he inserted his dick in you in one fell swoop. You tensed up, unused to this kind of pain, trying to hold back any sounds of discomfort. Gortash noticed it, kissing you softly on the lips, before whispering into your ear:

"You're doing great, my love, just relax." His fingers started playing with your clit, mixing the pain with pleasure and soon you were urging him to move again. He didn't need to be told twice, his hips pistoning into yours immediately after getting your permission.

He was thick, making the muscles in your vagina strain as they tried to accommodate his girth. It helped that you were embarrassingly wet, the squelch audible every time his dick moved in and out of you. Gortash buried his head in your neck, letting out whimpers that made you feel less humiliated about the noises you made.

"Ah, I've missed this. I've missed you. Thought I'd never see you again..." he mumbled into your neck, his breath hot against it. He cradled you close, as if you could slip between his fingers at any moment, his hips picking up speed. He wanted to enjoy this more, he truly did, but he was desperate to state his claim on you again, make you his once more. He made sure to rub circles into your clit in an effort to bring you to climax along with him. You were so responsive to his touch, like the first time you gave yourself to him, and he wanted to make sure you'll come back for more.

His clawed hand that held you close kept leaving bleeding scratches behind that you didn't mind at all, not when everything in this moment made you feel so alive. You thought killing felt great but this was actually better than that. He then bit your neck, groaning at the same time, his hips stilling, and you felt a warm sensation in you as he filled you with cum. With the continuous stimulation in and around your cunt, along with the small bits of pain he brought you, you followed him over the edge soon after, a silent prayer of his name on your lips.

You were both breathing heavily, still wrapped in each other as you tried to recover a bit of lucidity. Gortash finally pulled out, making his sperm spill out of you onto the expensive bedsheets but he couldn't care less. He laid next to you, pulling you against his chest, and he kissed your head sweetly. It felt unreal, that a supposed tyrant like him had the capacity to be so gentle, to an enemy no less, and yet here you were.

Well, let's just say you're heavily considering your alliance now.

#after dark #bg3 x reader #gortash smut #bg3 enver gortash #bg3 gortash #bg3 smut #enver gortash x reader #gortash x dark urge #gortash x reader #durge x gortash #gortash x durge #dark urge x gortash #durgetash

1K notes · View notes

superblysubpar · 3 months ago

Text

series masterlist | chapter two

chapter summary: Steve brings his daughter to her first day of Kindergarten.

the song: My Girl by The Temptations

6,251 words | please see the masterlist for warnings! | my blog is 18+

Steve can’t be sure if the sigh that escapes his lips and clouds up in front of him is due to the anticipation of the inevitable sticky situation that’s about to occur or annoyance in himself for continuing to provide her the jam. He supposes it could just be a sigh of acceptance, finally coming to terms with the new and almost constant state of his hair lately. Most likely though, it’s just a content, tiny burst of affection.

Because that’s the overwhelming feeling that blooms in his chest when sticky, sweet strawberry smelling fingers land in his freshly styled hair. His eyes flit up from the green sparkly laces between his fingers to see her tiny lips forming her patented pout.

Hair a bit lighter than his, curls slightly in a mind of its own kind of way beneath little pig tails, bouncing just above shoulders that are tucked up to her ears as she tilts her head to look around his. Big, curious eyes that he claims are like her mom’s, but everyone is adamant are also a carbon copy of his too - just like her nose that scrunches all too familiarly, dotted with tiny freckles that seem to multiple every day.

Steve taps the side of Charlie’s ankle as he finishes the first bow, and she sticks her other foot out for him, yellow lights at the center of daisies flashing as she stomps it down on the gravel. He glances back up to find her eyes still trained on the playground behind him, the furrow between her eyebrows only growing deeper as her fingers tug in his hair - either for his full attention like it isn’t already on her, or the aforementioned jam predicament, he isn’t sure.

“Daddy?”

He finishes the second bow, and removes her hands from his hair gently, running his thumb over the back of her knuckles and he sighs again. She is so sticky.

Steve shakes his head at his own thoughts and releases her hands to search his pockets, the other chucks the side of his knuckle under her chin.

“Talk to me, Goose.”

Her pout disappears, a giggle slips past her lips just like always, but it’s not long lasting when a shriek comes from the playground behind him. Her voice lowers as she asks in a wobbly tone, “Who will do the underdogs?”

“Well, uh, I’m sure your teacher knows how to do them, cutie,” he reassures while his forehead wrinkles and he tries to determine if she’s looking for some reason not to go suddenly or if she’s just genuinely curious. She does take her swings seriously, so it’s not an out of the ordinary question.

Steve finds a napkin, and decides it’ll have to do for now, grimacing as the paper material hits his tongue.

“But what if she can’t, daddy?” Her voice whines as he continues his stand off with the sticky residue.

That’s it. He’s suing Smuckers.

He hums, squeezing her fingers that wiggle between his and the napkin doing absolutely shit all.

“Then we’ll just have to teach her, right? Everyone’s gotta know how to do the underdogs.”

Charlie huffs, but she shrugs her shoulders in some sort of agreement it seems. He wonders how someone so tiny can be full of such complicated emotions, curious thoughts, and brains that he absolutely can’t keep up with, yet still need her shoes tied and someone on jam removal duty most mornings.

Steve stares at her tiny hand in his palm, green sparkles on clear nails that make him swallow down something stuck in his throat, make his free hand run down his nose and swipe underneath it.

Don’t you dare cry, you fucking loser.

But he can’t help but feed the worm that’s been digging deeper and deeper inside of him for months: What if she’s not ready?

And he knows, he really knows, after all the long talks and preparation for this very moment, that it’s him who’s not ready, not her.

She’s so ready, and going to wow the socks off of every teacher with her brilliant and funny little brain and she is the greatest, most precious thing in the world and nothing bad is going to happen to her, dingus.

He recites it to himself over and over, verbatim what Robin told him as he tries to move on to her second hand. But as the gold heart shaped locket dangling from her neck hits his forehead, all he can think is, that starting today, the room full of people he trusts with her safety is expanding. And the problem with opening that door to the room is not Charlie exploring beyond the safe wall’s he’s built, it’s who can get in when he’s not there 24/7 to guard that door.

Visions of flashing Christmas lights, baseball bats meeting gray flesh, Russian guard’s hands and their beady eyes, potentially rabid bats and, you know, just the earth cracking in half and the world almost ending multiple times, while losing people he really cares about, threaten to overtake his mind and he huffs in then out, a quick and calming breath.

Steve wets the napkin with his tongue once more, but pieces of it stick to it this time and he sputters and blows a raspberry, and Charlie’s giggles soothe any worry that was climbing over him like writhing vines.

He let’s go of her hands and makes a bigger show of removing the wet clumps of cardboard tasting napkin from his tongue and coughs loudly. She laughs harder and his eyes widen and his mouth drops in a dramatic gasp.

“Are you laughing at your dad?” He jabs at her sides lightly, tickling and poking her while the napkin falls to the ground and she giggles harder. “Huh? That’s not very nice!”

Steve picks up Charlie, squeezing at her wiggling and gasping body as she laughs so loud he can’t even remember what he was so worried about. He blows a raspberry into her neck so she shrieks in a laughing protest, “Daddy! Too much…” she laughs and wiggles more, gasping around her words, “Too much happy!”

He’ll take the sticky fingers and messed up hair and cardboard taste in his mouth and worrying about another human more than he ever could about himself every day if it means he gets to hear that every once in awhile.

“Mr. Harrington?”

Steve spins at the sound of his name, slowing his tickling. As his body turns and he’s met with your smile, he nearly drops his kid.

You are so pretty.

His mouth goes dry, like the entire napkin is balled up inside of it. He’s sure his cheeks are turning pink from how warm he feels while staring at you. Your fingers wrapped around a bright yellow thermos tap at it while a clipboard rests wedged between your side and elbow. Your light gray tshirt is decorated with sparkly planets and the slogan “Kindergarten is out of this world!” and is tucked into a bright green skirt that he can sense Charlie eyeing appreciatively, though apprehensively from her new residence tucked into his neck.

He runs a palm down Charlie’s spine, reassuring her as you tilt your head and smile wider at her, your nose scrunching up when you do. It takes your kind eyes turning their gaze to him again for him to realize you’ve never met and you were asking if he was Mr. Harrington.

“H-hi. Yeah, I mean yes. I’m Mr. Harrington. I mean, I don’t, kids at school call me that, and I guess parents, but I mean that is my name. I’m Steve, Steve Harrington.”

He squeezes his eyes closed shut as if to erase that moment from existence forever. He can practically see Robin drawing a line on a whiteboard in the ‘You Suck’ column.

Your laugh drags his eyelids open, and it tugs at something inside of his chest that he thought disappeared a long time ago. Your hand extends and he bites his cheek, cursing all jelly and jam brands. He raises his hands up almost in surrender and Charlie clings to his neck harder, her face hidden in his shoulder as the back of her thighs balance in the crook of his elbow.

“I’m afraid we had a bit of a sticky jam situation this morning, so I don’t know if you want to proceed with a handshake.”

Proceed? With a handshake? Dude, you’re killing me here.

Your shoulders shrug, your voice all soft and smooth and a little sleepy as you joke, “They literally make us Kindergarten teachers take a class where they simply throw sticky substances at us, and if you flinch or grimace, you’ll never graduate. It’s all a part of the job.” Your hand clasps around his gently, but in a firm shake, as you introduce yourself, “I’m Miss Honey.”

He can’t help but notice the Miss not a Mrs.

Charlie perks up at your name, her forehead knocks his chin and he blinks rapidly from the sensation and her shout directly in his ear, “You’re my teacher!”

“I am?” You gasp, excited and smiling at her when you do and he thinks he might already be in love with you.

Charlie nods and then exclaims, “Daddy calls me honey!”

Steve fights a smile and his arm wrapped around her waist squeezes as he whispers, “How do we introduce ourselves?”

Charlie beams at him and slides down his front, foot pushing off of his thigh for leverage. She jumps to the ground forcefully, and almost trips and falls face first into the cement.

Steve’s already moving forward in anticipation of big crocodile tears, but stops himself when he sees you don’t move a muscle and simply watch her find her balance. He watches as you bite your lip in a way that tells him you’re hiding a smile as Charlie sticks her hand out towards you.

When you take it, she shakes it and takes a deep breath before slowly reciting, “My name is Charlotte Maxine Harrington. I live at six eight two Poppy Lane and my daddy’s phone number is seven six five four two…five-“

“Woah cutie,” he stops her, hands resting on her shoulders, and kisses the top of her head. “We don’t have to give her the whole speech, how about just the name?”

Crouched down to Charlie’s level now, you tilt your head at her, eyes widening as the tone of your voice turns to something syrupy sweet that he recognizes in the way he talks to her himself sometimes as you ask, “You memorized all of that Charlotte? That’s amazing! And there’s more? A whole speech?!”

She nods, eyes big and wide and voice excited as she hums, “Mhm. For policemans like Mr. Jim and firesmens like Uncle Eddie and teachers like Auntie Robin. Cause every-eveybody calls me Charlie, but if I’m scared and I need help they need my whole name and daddy’s phone number and if any food makes me itchy.”

Steve knows without a shadow of a doubt that not only are his cheeks pink, the tips of his ears are now too when you look up at him with raised eyebrows and something twinkling in your gaze. He clears his throat and focuses on his hand running through Charlie’s curls instead of you.

“Daddy’s gotta make sure his right hand gal’s got all the facts, right?” He kisses the top of her head again, inhaling her L’Oreal mangoes and strawberry and something distinctly his daughter that he is certain would be what the sun smells like if it could be bottled.

She tilts her head back, resting against his dark Levi’s so she can see him. Her grin is wide, showing off dimples she didn’t get from him as she nods again. “Right. Always be pepared.”

Steve brushes his thumb down her nose, and something stings behind his eyes again. He looks back over at you, slowly standing from your crouch with a fond gaze staring back at him. He swallows before his lips part, prepared to tell you that it’s all wrong. He’s not Steve Harrington, this is not Charlie Harrington, and no way is anyone starting Kindergarten today, but Charlie’s shriek never lets the words leave his mouth.

It’s like a bucket of ice cold water dumps over his head as he spins to watch Charlie race towards the parking lot, about to yell far too loud from fear, when she comes to halt right at the curb. Impatiently bouncing as her favorite person waves and runs towards her.

The familiar honey tinged red waves bounce as Robin scoops Charlie up in a hug that can only be comfortable for the two of them, all squeezing and no grace, kissing all over her face as she gushes and fawns over her like she literally didn’t see her last night.

“Hey babe! You look splendidly spectacular this morning! Did you do something different with your hair?”

“No!” Charlie giggles and spins once back on the ground, as if to show off her outfit. Which is pretty cute, if he does say so himself. Robin taps a finger to her chin. She holds up curls and circles Charlie, inspecting.

“Not the hair, not the hair…aha! Your nails! Green nail polish!”

Charlie shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips, and Steve relaxes as she tells her that Auntie Robin you painted them last night and how could she forget already, no it’s not that.

You’re watching him closely when he turns to look back at you, rubbing the back of his neck under your appraisal. Your smile all knowing as you reassure, “She’s gonna be fine, Mr. Harrington. Stopping to look both ways and being aware of cars is first week stuff, she’s a natural. And that speech? Time for you to relax.”

He knows he was never one for hiding how he felt from his facial features, but after having a kid and becoming a teacher, he’s had to learn to keep himself fairly composed. So he’s not sure if you can already read him that well or this is just the speech you give to all the parents. Nonetheless, he smiles back at you.

“I’ve never heard of that word before, what does it mean? Relax?”

Your laughter at his terrible joke makes something in his chest swell, almost as sweet of a sound as Charlie’s. He glances over to see Robin smacking her forehead and exclaiming that oh of course it’s the fabulous new green overalls.

“Also, call me Steve, please,” you smile politely and he knows you won’t, because he does the same thing to parents who tell him the same thing, “And I think it’s in that packet we had to fill out, but I’m a teacher over at the middle school, um, art, and so I’m only like ten minutes away if something happens, and she should be really good, she’s a great listener, but I know how she can be so please tell me. Seriously. And I know she didn’t do pre-school, but she’s so smart, she’s just struggling with her R’s and H’s sometimes, but I honestly think it’s because she talks so fast she just doesn’t care to slow down-“

Your fingers touch his wrist, catching it as he talks with his hands and he stops immediately, blinking at you with a held breath.

It’s like touching his skin shocks you and your fingers release from around his wrist quickly before you take a step back, shaking your head while biting your lip.

“Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

“No, it’s oka-“

“Dingus!” Wing woman extraordinare interrupts, “Why on earth did cutiepie here just tell me she did not get a picture in this fabulous first day of school outfit?”

He focus’ on the pair walking towards him hand in hand with a scowl he quickly hides, rolling his eyes at Robin when Charlie quips, “Yeah, dad!”

Steve rubs the side of his cheek, glaring at Robin as you make yourself busy with your clipboard. “Because, we were gonna be late after we were so focused on finding the green overalls, and the green hair ties, and the green shoelaces and the green-“

“Because green is the best,” Charlie interrupts while putting her hands on her hips as if it weren’t clear how exasperated she was with him from her tone.

Robin snorts from behind her and mirrors her pose before sticking her tongue out at him. “Yeah, dad!”

Your laughter reminds Charlie of your presence and she tugs Robin’s matching polished fingers with her own forward.

“Miss Honey, this is Auntie Robin. She lives at…um…oh yeah…four one three-“

“Woah kiddo!” Robin whispers and crouches down, looking around dramatically like a spy. “Does Miss Honey know the super secret password? ‘Cause, remember, only the friends who know the super secret password get to know where Aunt Robin lives.”

Charlie gasps like she’s just recalled this important fact and nods, face seriouos. Robin mimes zipping her lips, locking, then throws the invisible key over her shoulder. Charlie copies her, then promptly steps towards you and loudly whispers: “Pickles.”

Steve bites his cheek and Robin laughs, running a hand over her curls. “We’ll keep practicing the whole locking of lips thing, huh?”

“Kay,” Charlie shrugs before she tugs on Steve’s pant leg. “Daddy?”

“Yeah?” He watches her grip the side of jeans in her little fist and stare at the swings with that pout on her lips again.

“Can I swing?”

A lump in his throat forms when he looks up at you, you glance at your watch and nod with a smile.

“Sure, cutie.” He starts to take off her back pack straps and she’s already racing across the gravel and he calls out loudly, “Don’t forget to be nice to new friends! Take turns! Say please!”

“Tank you!” She shouts back over her shoulder.

Steve groans at it all, her racing away, her forgotten H. He watches her slow down as she reaches the swings and point to an empty one next to a boy already pumping his legs. He nods eagerly and Charlie talks animatedly with her hands as she climbs into the swing.

He lets all of his weight drop against Robin, Charlie’s backpack limp in his fingers when his temple knocks hers and he whispers, “I can’t fucking do this.”

Robin sniffles and his head whips up.

“Are you crying?”

She swats at his chest and avoids his gaze, “No. I have something in my eye. Both eyes. Like a branch or something. Just…” she holds out her hand and blinks blue eyes that have turned a little more shiny, “Give me your keys so I can go get the polaroid, ‘cause I know you brought it, you sentimental idiot.”

He drops the car keys into her palm and she quickly turns away from him before he can catch the tears slipping down her cheeks. When he turns back around you’re hiding a smile behind your thermos again.

Steve clears his throat and runs his thumb and forefinger down his nose, squinting at the playground.

“It’s okay to cry you know, most parents do.”

“I’m not,” he clarifies, words thick in his throat and a struggle to get out.

“Okay, I believe you,” yours easy and tinged with laughter.

“I’m not,” he begs, pleading with someone in the universe so the burn behind his eyes doesn’t fully form and fall.

You must hear it, and decide to give him an out, because you pull up your clipboard. “I actually did need to ask you a few questions, you were my last parent to snag before we all go inside. We never got your authorized pick up list? Just if you can’t ever pick up Charlie, who we’re allowed to send her home with? We tend to also use this as an emergency contact list if there was ever some reason we couldn’t get a hold of you.”

The word emergency makes his heart beat harder and he looks over at Charlie swinging to make sure he can still see her.

“Oh,” he nods, licking his lips as he thinks through it. “How many people can I put?”

“As many as you want,” you shrug before adjusting your coffee thermos in the crook of your elbow so you can write on the clipboard.

“Here,” he grabs the thermos, “Let me. I feel like if I let you spill coffee on that skirt, Charlie might actually never forgive me, as you heard, we’re in a green phase.”

He’s awarded that laugh of yours again before you whisper a quiet thank you. Your lashes kiss as you blink at him, pen poised on the paper. It’s when your eyebrows lift expectantly that he realizes you’re waiting for him to say something still.

“Oh! Um…honestly…” he looks at Charlie who’s smiling at Robin holding up the camera now and nods towards her. “Robin Buckley,” he lists her phone number before adding on, “She’s a teacher here, music, um, honestly she might be picking her up most days. I coach soccer here in the fall after school, so I should make it, but in the spring I’m over at the high school for baseball.”

“Okay great,” you smile as you finish writing her number and look up at him, “Anyone else?”

“I guess Eddie Munson?”

“The ‘firesmens’?” You ask as you write the name.

Steve laughs, fiddling with Charlie’s backpack in his hands, “Yeah, and I guess I should do Nancy too…”

He gives you both of their numbers along with Hopper and Joyce and he doesn’t even want to imagine what would be going on that you couldn’t get a hold of him, Robin, Eddie, or Nancy and had to resort to calling them. And what’s worse, if you couldn’t get a hold of them either.

“We almost never have to call even the second person on the list Mr. Harrington, she’s gonna be just fine.”

“Right,” he nods, but doesn’t really believe you.

“For relationship, Robin is Charlie’s Aunt is what I gathered?”

“Oh,” he laughs and rubs at his temple, “Um by blood? No. She’s just my best friend, but I mean, I guess, to Charlie, yeah. Closest person to having a real one I think.”

“Oh, okay, gotcha” you nod, glancing down at the list and writing.

Steve feels the need to clarify when you hover over Eddie and Nancy, and he isn’t sure why. “They’re married, shouldn’t have said that. And again, family friends I guess, but Charlie calls them Aunt and Uncle. And Jim and Joyce, do you know Hopper? The chief? Anyways, they’re just Mr. Jim and Mrs. Joyce, but they’re essentially her grandparents I guess? I don’t really know…”

Your face does that thing that he hates, the look like you wanna tell him you’re sorry, or you want to comfort him but don’t know how. And it’s not like he doesn’t appreciate where it comes from, he just hates anyone thinking he can’t handle it, can’t handle her, all by himself, or feeling sorry for him in any way. Because there’s nothing to be sorry for, not when he has her.

Your mouth parts, but before you can speak, thunder rumbles loudly overhead.

“Oh, shit,” Steve groans, looking up at the angry clouds. The clear morning sky slowly turning gray without him noticing and he looks over to see Charlie already running for Robin’s legs.

“Not a fan of thunderstorms?” You ask as you watch her and several other kiddos get scooped up by parents.

Steve shakes his head, lips turning down in a frown as Robin whispers in her ear and starts back towards him. “No, she really doesn’t. No matter what I say or do, nothing helps. I honestly don’t know where it came from, I don’t think it’s the loud noises of the thunder, we’ve never lost power…I feel so helpless. Or useless. Like I can’t fix it for her. ”

The smile you offer attempts to reassure, but Charlie’s eyes fill with tears and Robin rubs a hand down her back, looking over her head at Steve with worried eyes.

“Sorry, I gotta…” he apologizes but he’s already moving towards her and he hopes you understand.

Charlie’s sniffles grow louder as another rumble cracks overhead, burrowing her head into Robin’s sternum and kicking her shoes against her thighs so hard, the little daisies light up.

Robin grimaces at the rough kick, and Steve gives her a mouthed apology as he relieves her of her comforting duties. “Hey, calm down honey. I’m right here. It’s just the rain being a little loud, announcing it’s coming soon, remember?”

He watches you and Robin and some of the other teachers start to gently guide parents and kids inside, smiling and distracting from the incoming rain, and he starts to follow but Charlie wails in his ear as he gets further away from the car.

“Dad-dy, nooo,” she sobs, shaking her head, “I don’t wanna go.”

His eyes blur as he sets her down in the entryway, kids running past as parents give him kind smiles when they walk around them.

“What?!” He tries to sound excited, but he’s wavering, throat too tight and eyes burning, “Why don’t you wanna go now? You get to color, and meet new friends! You get to go play music with Robin!”

“But,” she hiccups around a big sob and his thumb catches a new fat tear trying to trail down her pink cheeks. “You-you leaving and and I don’t like the storm and-“

“I don’t have to leave yet! We get to go put your backpack away, and see your new classroom together. Can we do that? I was so excited to see where you get to sit and draw me pictures every day.”

He’s grasping at straws as she shakes her head no and tries to climb into his lap. And he doesn’t even care if he shouldn’t, he lets her. And he squeezes her and kisses the top of her head as he cradles her, walking deeper inside.

Steve whispers in her ear about how Miss Honey must be magic cause guess what? Char, your cubbie is green. How’d she know? And oh my gosh, no way, someone has a sleeping beauty lunchbox. All the while humming her favorite lullaby between the exciting things he hopes grab her attention. And soon she’s not crying anymore, wet lashes tickling his neck as she peeks at the things he’s pointing out. Soon she’s climbing off of his lap as he forces his voice to sound happy about her hanging up her power rangers backpack she just had to have, and holding his hand as she walks to the doorway of the classroom.

All the parents are gone, aside from a few taking last peeks at their kids drawing or playing and Charlie clings to his knee as he hesitates in the doorway himself.

You’re knelt on the ground pointing at some books with two kids when you spot them. He’s not sure what you say to them, but then you’re walking over to them and not even looking at Steve as you crouch in front of Charlie hiding behind his leg, your sole focus on her and making her feel better.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Charlie!” You tell her, thoroughly relieved, “I have the biggest hugest favor to ask you, will you help me?”

Charlie looks at you, and takes a step forward as she quietly asks, “Help?”

Your nod is so enthusiastic, and you reach out your hand for hers, waiting until she rests her fingers in yours to lace them together. “I heard you are your dad’s best helper, and I need help finding all of the green crayons, can you do that with me? There’s so many in this bin! We need them for a special project we’re going to do later.”

She’s about to nod, he knows she is, when lighting flashes outside, and despite the blinds being closed, she knows. Charlie flinches and starts to retreat but you sigh, and nod your head, smiling still. “I know, rain can be scary sometimes. Do you know what I like to do when it rains?”

Charlie shakes her head no, and you smile encouragingly at her as she gets closer and places both of her hands on your arm instead of holding your hand, squeezing close to your side. “I love to bake cookies. They make my house smell so good. What’s your favorite kind of cookie?”

“Um…” Charlie swipes at her cheek and looks around the room at kids playing and laughing. “Monstermashes.”

“Monstermashes? What are those? I’ve never heard of them, can you tell me what all goes in them while we find all the green crayons?”

She let’s you lead her to the table with the bin where two other kids coloring smile at her and say hi. She sits and you squeeze her shoulder as she tells you all about the cookies. It’s when you risk a glance at the door that Steve realizes he’s just standing there, crying.

Your smile is kind, but your head tilts ever so subtly, telling him to slip out while he can and he knows he should, but the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her goodbye or say have a great first day or I love you is ripping him apart and he squeezes his eyes closed.

He’s not sure how he makes it out to his car with how clouded his vision is, but he does. Thankfully he doesn’t have a sob leave his lips until the maroon door is slammed and his forehead presses to the leather wheel. He notices a little stack of polaroids under an orange post it that says “You sentimental idiot” on the passenger seat. He cries more when he sees the curled fingers around his. He cups his cheeks and slaps them, clearing his throat while muttering under his breath to get a grip.

And he does, eventually.

He goes to teacher workshop and sets up his own classroom and lesson plans and catches up with his co-workers. The thunder only lasts about a half hour, and then it’s just a normal rainy day, which he hopes you’ve managed alright with her. He only calls Robin once but that’s only because she yells at him that of course she’s fine, you think she’d let anything happen to that sweet angel? And he only grabs his keys to go early three times, but never makes it fully out to the car. He does have to take something from his little orange bottle when his breath isn’t quite right when lights flicker for no reason, but turns out it was just the custodian doing some checks. And then finally, it’s already time to go pick her up, and he’s not proud of this, but he speeds at least ten over the whole way there.

So maybe he’s a little early.

He’s slow to approach the classroom, and leans against the wall on the other side of the doorway, just out of sight. He hears your voice singing some sort of clean up song and the kids responding, he closes his eyes and tries to focus on if he can hear her. When the song is over, he opens his eyes to find you smiling at him from the doorway. Your shirt is stained, your hair messier than it was this morning. You’re clearly exhausted but absolutely overjoyed that this is your job as you call for anyone who’s favorite color is green to come grab their back pack. Charlie races towards the door with a few other kids and waves excitedly at him from her place in line.

When you tell them to grab their backpacks, she exits the room and leaps into his arms when he crouches down, expecting the hug. He squeezes her tightly, “Hey cutie, did you have a good day? I missed you so much!”

“So so so so good daddy, we played with cars and colored planets and Auntie Robin taught us a new song and and oh my gosh there’s too much happy to tell you.”

He gets a little choked up at that, a sob threatens to hiccup out of him that he tries to cover up with a laugh, kissing her cheek. “That’s so great! Go get your backpack, I think Miss Honey is waiting.”

“Oh!” She jumps out of his arms and skips to her cubbie, and brings it to you where you slip some papers into a folder, notably sparkly and green, into her backpack after you do the same with three other kids and three different colored folders. The others go sit down on a rug and you smile at him.

“Hi Mr. Harrington, Charlie had such a great first day! She was my awesome helper and she has some art projects to show you that I think you’re really gonna like. There’s also a note about what we did today for you in there, that also has some dates to keep in mind and it’ll always have announcements for things like snack rotations.”

Charlie tugs at his pant leg as Steve smiles at you, “Hold on, sweetie.” He runs a hand over her curls before turning back to you and lowering his voice, “Thank you. For this morning, but also, you know, the whole day.”

“It’s literally my job,” you joke, but you smile warmly at him, “But, you’re welcome. You just need to sign Charlie out and then you’re all set!”

You grab a binder from it’s place by the door and flip to the H’s, and hold it open for him. Typed up information about Charlie on top, and the dates of the month in a calendar for signatures, and at the bottom, the list of names. He gets a little emotional seeing: ‘Robin Buckley - Aunt’ and all the other relationships you’ve given instead of family friend.

Charlie tugs harder, this time on his belt loop and he laughs, picking her up. “Hey, I said hold on, what’s got ants in your pants, huh?”

She taps at his cheek, big eyes blinking at him as she whines, “Daddy, this is so impotant, I promise. No ants.”

“Okay,” he laughs, signing his name in the today’s box, “What’s up?”

“What are the crunchies?”

She asks it so seriously and he has no idea what she’s talking about, he looks to you for help.

You’re thanking the kids for the calm and listening bodies before you’re calling up kids who’s favorite animal is a penguin, so he looks at Charlie who’s waiting expectantly. “What are what?”

“The crunchies daddy. What are they? Miss Honey doesn’t know them.”

“Cutie, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are crunchies?” He bends down with her to grab her backpack that’s still on the floor and he hears you laugh.

“Daddy the monstermashes,” Charlie whines, like he should know this.

“Oh,” he draws it out, “The M&M’s? The chocolate candy I put in?”

“No,” Charlie whines, and she turns to you with a pout. “Daddy doesn’t know too. It’s no use! Hopeless!”

He doesn’t know how or where she learns these phrases so quickly and how she uses them so correctly but he does know that he’s not alone in thinking it’s the cutest thing ever when you smile at her.

“Hold on, I bet we can figure it out together!” You tick off on your fingers as kids who love potato chips go to their cubbies and get their equally different folders and a second parent enters the hallway. He starts to wonder how many folders you bought to be prepared for all their different interests. Colors, animals, shapes, characters, sparkles and no sparkles. He wonders what else you did today.

“Let’s see, we have peanut butter…” Charlie nods and you gasp, “Is it crunchy peanut butter? Peanuts?”

She makes a face, much to his dismay they’re a creamy peanut butter household, so Steve shakes his head no and you tap your chin. “Okay, and it’s not the m&m’s or…” you smile at Steve, emphasizing the R’s in a way that tells him the very important letters were left out of the word, “Butterscotch.”

Charlie nods and the two of you are silent so he chimes in with, “Rice Krispies? The cereal?”

You smile and Charlie nods, “That’s it! Krispies!”

Crunchies, krispies, he has to give it to her, that’s pretty close. And from the way you react, he knows you knew all day, you just wanted to keep her distracted.

“I’m so glad we figured it out! I had such a great time learning with you today, Charlie, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Charlie nods and waves, shouting in his ear, “Bye Miss Honey!”

You wave back, smiling at the two as the next parent takes his place and you call up a boy named Matt.

Steve heads down the hallway, looping her backpack over his shoulder as he whispers, “Should we make Miss Honey some Monstermash cookies tonight? You can bring them tomorrow?”

Charlie shouts yes directly in his ear again and his hair gets trapped under her hand in her excitement and all he can do is sigh.

A content, tiny burst of affection, for sure.

#superbly subpar's writing #My Girl universe #steve harrington #singledad!steve harrington #teacher!steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington fic

254 notes · View notes

glaciernaut · 2 months ago

Text

All Yours. Only Yours. (Short story)

(It took me forever to draw this because I couldn’t get the damn hands right 😭)

Shimmering blue waves crest and fall at a soothing rhythm. The distant call of Seagulls can be heard over the gentle crash of the ocean against the dock. Standing in the light of the setting sun, Shadow closes his eyes and inhales deeply, taking in the moment. An ear swivels backwards as he hears the sound of soft footsteps coming closer.

“You doing alright?”

Shadow glances to his left. It’s that irritating blue hedgehog. The one with a smile that outshines the sun, gentle green eyes as brilliant as a chaos emerald, azure fur that practically glows in the sunset, a voice like a golden melody that can speak straight to his heart, that irritating blue thorn at his side, that he would give anything for to see that smile, to hear his laugh.

“Yes. I am simply… taking a rest from the commotion”

“I get ‘cha. It gets pretty loud in there, but I’m thinking most marriage parties can get pretty loud…” Sonic said, looking back at the indoor section of the venue. “It’s pretty peaceful out here though! And that sunset view is unbeatable!”

Shadow simply nods. Taking another quick glance at his newly wedded husband. Then scanning the horizon once more.

“Man” sonic said, throwing an arm around him. “If someone had told me 6 years ago I would be married to Shadow the Hedgehog, I think I would’ve laughed so hard, I’d cough out my lungs” Sonic chuckled. Shadow simply scoffed beside him, flashing him a small smirk. He closed his eyes once more taking in the gentle ocean breeze and the warm half embrace from his partner beside him.

He felt Sonic shuffle around and mess with the plants on the gazebo above them before he heard the snapping of some leaves and branches. Sonic was looking at him with half lidded eyes, a tiny pink flower held in his lips.

Shadow rolled his eyes and smiled softly, now fully turning towards Sonic to give him his full attention.

“What are you doing? You look ridiculous”

“A flower for the good gentle sir?” Sonic said in an exaggerated childish tone, making a show of bowing deeply for extra extravagance…or silliness.

Shadow, once again rolled his eyes. “This is really what I agreed to marry?” He asked mockingly, though there was no malice in his tone, but rather a fondness and gentle kindness that only Sonic and Rouge could ever pick up on.

“Yup, and you better count yourself lucky too!” Sonic countered

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I mean you’ve got ‘thee’ Sonic the Hedgehog for a husband right next to you. You know how many ladies would die to be in your position right now?” Sonic asked with his signature cocky smirk.

“And how many of those ladies can beat you in a race? Did any of those girls reach the 50 mile mark on Apotos beach faster than you?”

“Ok first of all, you had a 5 second head start, second, your route didn’t get blocked by a truck, forcing you to take the long way around, and lastly! You totally used those rocket skates to throw sand at me on that last stretch!”

“Just sounds like excuses a sore loser would make”

“Alright! Thats it! C’mere you!” Sonic launched himself at Shadow, quicker than the hybrid could react, near tackling him over in a tight embrace. But years of experience keeps him firmly planted on his feet as he holds sonic by the thighs wrapped around him. Sonic nuzzles into his cheek, letting out a soft, quiet purr. “I love ya Shads” he whispers softly into an ebony ear. Shadow pulls his head back just slightly, bumping their noses together, before Sonic is met with a warm, loving gaze, that has his heart melt, the mushy leftovers singing a melody meant only for Shadow.

Shadow then meets Sonic’s lips in a soft kiss. Sonic, more than happy to return it, tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and gently licks Shadow’s bottom lip. A silent question, with parting lips as the response. The two melt into each other, touching, tasting, feeling. Every run of their hands across the other’s body a precious memory, every sensation of their lips, a buzzing jolt of excitement. They break apart after a few minutes, their minds hazy from the rush of emotion that never seems to settles no matter how many years they’ve spent together.

“So then…” Shadow starts slowly setting Sonic back down. “Who are these ‘ladies’ you were talking about?” he asked teasingly. Sonic, with his head still not fully back on the ground yet exhaled shakily before responding.

“No. No girls. Just you…Only you”

Shadow smiled genuinely at that. “And I, am only yours”

Sonic smiled brightly in response.

“Boys!” A cheerful voice called from across the dock. Amy quickly stepped out from the venue doors, camera in hand waving the newly weds down.

“Yo Ames!” Sonic called back.

“Aren’t you gonna come back to the party? Rouge bet Knuckles 20 bucks that he’s so drunk, he couldn’t even land on his feet if he jumped from a chair.” Amy said chuckling tiredly.

“Oh man, I can’t miss that! We’ll be right there Ames, just give us a few” Sonic assured, looking to Shadow for a nod in agreement.

“Alright then!” Amy said. But before she turned back she gazed silently, at them, and the sunset behind them. “You two look so cute in this light!” She squealed, causing the other two hedgehog to turn their faces with a small blush growing on their cheeks. Amy gingerly lifts her camera before tilting her head curiously. “May I?” She asks softly.

“You kiddin’ me? With a sunset this gorgeous, it’d be a crime not to!” Sonic laughed.

“Alright get close” Amy urged quickly. But Sonic decided to take this as an opportunity to throw himself straight over Shadow’s arms. Shadow, unprepared, startled before quickly righting himself.

“What is this about hedgehog?” He questioned. “Whaat? I can’t throw myself into my Husbands arms?” Sonic countered.

“Besides you did say I’m yours and only yours… My husband” sonic replied with a sultry smile.

Shadow’s own shy smile slowly making itself show.

“Ooh, that’s perfect! Just like that!” Amy exclaimed.

“You heard the lady!” Sonic answered. “Keep that smile shining bright shads!”

Amy readied her camera, and sonic flashed his ring at it, showing the world that he was Shadow’s . All his. Only his.

Author’s Note:

This is literally the first fanfic I’ve ever written so sorry if it’s too corny or not at a good standard.

I’ve always wanted to try writing a fanfic but my anxious thoughts would never let me. 6 months of Anti-depressants and therapy later (normalize mental health treatment. It shouldn’t be taboo to say you’re medicated or getting therapy) and I now have enough self confidence to give it a try! Let me know how I did!

#sonadow #shadonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic #shadow the hedgehog #sonic the hedghog fanart #sonic fanart #theyre in love your honor #theyre gay and in love #marriedhegies #babysfirstfanfiction #first fanfic #sonadow fanfiction #theyre husbands #romanceismykink #imasuckerforfluff #sonadow fluff

167 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 11 months ago

Text

Power of the Sun

Summary: You're Doc O'Hara's assistant A/N: tentacle pron? Art: vencipality on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little violent/screaming, Angst?, Word Count: 3,004

Miguel was a man of science. He took pride in his work but was always humble about it. He was a kind mentor, encouraging young brilliant minds to pursue their passion in science and math, connecting with his peers and exchanging ideas to enrich and evolve humankind for the greater good. Knowledge is not a privilege, it’s a gift, he would say. Like any other one of his colleagues and apprentices, you admired him and his work. You followed him around as his assistant and confidant. Miguel trusted you after many years and you had fallen in love with him after many years. For a while, it had remained one-sided. A love you kept to yourself and didn’t believe that a man so brilliant as him would ever fall for someone like his subordinate. He deserved someone equally as knowledgeable–capable of keeping up with him. “Dr. O’Hara, I’ve printed all the documents of the latest experimentation process as well as sending a copy to Osborn.” You walked in his vast lab, heels clicking with each step against the marbled floor. Miguel was all the way in the back, only a dim fluorescent light highlighting him and whatever he was working on. His face was scrunched together as he focused on the task at hand. However when he heard your voice, he looked over his shoulder and his scowl melted. He called out your name gently, now a small smile on his face. He joined you in the middle, hands out as he collected the papers from your hands. He briefly flipped through the pages, scanning with his eyes before looking back up at you. He patted the front pages with the back of his hand and nudged his glasses up further his nose. “What would I do without you?” You flush, scoffing and looking to the side before reverting back to him. “You’d be fine, Dr.O’Hara.” You shake your head and swerve around him to take a look at whatever he was working on.

Miguel turns. “I beg to differ. For years, you’ve been a great asset at my side.” You hum. “And for years, you keep telling me that. But really, Doctor, it’s you who does the actual revolutionary actions.” He meets you at your side once he’s placed the papers securely somewhere. “Miguel.” He corrects you. “We’ve been together all this time. You know what else I keep telling you? That honorifics is unnecessary. Call me Miguel.” You clear your throat. “Okay, Miguel.” No matter how many times he reminded you, you would always say his name before reverting back to calling him Doctor. Perhaps habits are hard to break. “How’s it coming along?” You turn your head to see what he had been working on for a long time now. Miguel brightened up, standing straight and walking around the device. Four long green mechanical tentacles held up on their own all attached to a long spinal machine. He grazed his hands over the tentacles, admiring his own work. “We’re close, darling. It just needs some testing.” “Well if you’d like I could set up a volunteering headline for–” “No, no, no!” He stopped you by shaking his head and hands. “No, I–we can’t let this get out to the public yet. This is for the expo next month where Osborn will be. Perhaps he can finally understand why I’m doing this…” He mumbles to himself. You’re taken aback by his outburst but you rationalize it by thinking how exhausted he might be. Ever since Norman Osborn had disregarded Miguel’s research, Miguel had been working on crunch time to prove the CEO wrong. “Then how will you test it?” Your hand comes up to hold a claw from one of the tentacles. You examine the carbon fiber skeleton that Miguel used, trying to find the details of the prosthetic. Miguel admires you from the side, his eyes longing and far as he watches.

“I’ll–” He sighs. “I’ll think of…someone.” He murmurs. He feels an ache in his chest and looks back at his invention. The green of the arms glow softly against his brown skin, reflecting off his glasses. He looks over at you and sees the same for you. The curve of your cheeks and the light in your eyes tinged with green. “You know, um. It’s been a while since we’ve-eh- hung out?” Miguel stammers, taking off his glasses and cleans the right lens with his lab coat. “Maybe later tonight we could–if you like, of course– to join me for dinner?” He coughs and quickly places his glasses back on to hide his blush. He fails. You turn your head to face him, surprise evident on your face. “O-oh. As…colleagues?” Your voice pitches higher with nerves. Miguel gulps, Adam's apple bobbing with the action. “Well, no–it’s–what I’m trying to say is I’d like to have dinner with you as…more than colleagues.” Miguel burns brighter. He could solve the hardest equation, understand quantum physics and talk to scholars and billionaires with no sweat but when it came to you, you turned him into a babbling idiot. He glances at you from his peripheral vision, hoping you would not reject him. “Oh..! Then,” You give him a small smile. “I’d love to.”

What started as one date, began another and another until a series of dates had been planned and enjoyed before it blossomed into a relationship with your boss. You never thought it possible. You always thought of Miguel as someone out of your reach, someone who would rather focus on winning awards and gaining money–helping humankind–before ever thinking of settling down with anyone. For months, you had been going out with him, and establishing your relationship and for months you were helping him with his invention. Miguel screamed as he threw everything he had on his desk aside in anger. Pens, papers and other tools flew to the floor and he gripped his hair in frustration. He tugged on his long curls hoping that the pain in his strands would outweigh the pounding in his head. You ran to his side and placed a hand on his back while he curled into himself, heaving heavily. “You need to rest.” You urged. “These damn billionaires,” He growls, ignoring you. “Can’t they see we’re just trying to help people? Can’t they see beyond something as worthless as the money they want?” He stomps away from you, heading to the pinboard that held all his drawings and calculations. He ripped them off their pins and clips, tearing them to shreds as they fluttered to the floor. “This is the next step to human evolution! And they want to dump my shit, my life’s WORK, just because of what?” He laughs hysterically. “Because that malparido Osborn doesn’t believe in it? Are they so far up that elitists ass?” You watch terrified behind him. You feel your heart pumping, your eyes trained on him in case he hurts himself. “Miguel…” He slams his fists on the now bare pinboard, papers strewn across the floor around him. He heaves out another sigh, his anger simmering. “I just want to help people.” He whispers, resting his forehead on the rough surface. While he takes in shaky breaths, you decide to approach him. Placing your hand on his shoulder, you turn his head towards you. Your heart breaks when you see the defeated look on his face. Eyebags had grown deeper, his eyes bloodshot and half lidded from sleep deprivation. “It’s okay.” You whisper.

“It’s not.” “It is. You’re a smart man, Miguel. You’ve done unimaginable things on your own. Your mind is what they need, but you? You don’t need their money. You have that brain of yours.” You tap his forehead and give him an encouraging grin. Miguel’s face falls into a relaxed smile, chuckling when you tap his forehead. “And you.” He whispers. “I have you.” He takes your hand off his shoulder and brings your knuckles up to his lips to kiss them. He keeps your hand against him until he breathes in and out slowly, looking up at you. “Thank you.” He mumbles, kissing your hand again before standing straight and moving his arms around your waist. “What would I do without you?” He grins tiredly. Your arms snake around his neck. “Probably die without me.” You giggled and he giggled with you. “Probably.” He hums while you look at each other, basking in the calm after the storm of emotions. “How about I bring us some tea?” You offer.

“No coffee?” “I think caffeine should be the least of your worries right now.” You roll your eyes playfully when you see his smirk. “English Breakfast?” You pat his chest before sliding away from his embrace, looking over your shoulder as you walk towards the exit. Miguel smiles and nods. “You know me so well.” He sighs and stuffs his hands in his pockets after watching you leave. His smile drops from his face and he looks over at the giant green robotic tentacles. With a gentle hand, he caresses the silicon with care. Then, he moves onto the spinal cord of the device, wondering if Osborn just saw what he could do–then it would all be worth it. With a glance at the door, he makes sure the coast is clear before taking off his lab coat and shirt–and attaches the tentacles to his body.

You loved Miguel, honestly. The man you met was the sweetest. He was kind and caring, always patient and encouraging for new minds that wanted to learn. He was gentle. Was. You wondered where it all went wrong. Maybe you should’ve seen the signs. It seemed like everyday he would get slowly more agitated. Not at you. Never at you. More like, at the situation–at least you’d tell yourself that. You remember waking up one day in Miguel’s apartment. With your growing relationship, you decided to move in with him but it seemed like you were alone again. Miguel was sleeping at the lab more often than not. Other times you would have had to drag him out of his burrow, him snapping with red eyes that he needed to continue working. With a sigh, you shuffled out of bed, the other side being freezing cold, and got ready for work.

After clocking in, you found Miguel exactly where he was last night—hunched over and murmuring to himself. You place the tea you brought down onto the table along with a sleeping pill right next to him.

“Mi amor, you need to get some actual rest. It’s been days. You’ll wear yourself out.” You speak as quietly as possible to not scare him. Miguel doesn’t flinch, only shrugging you off.

“I’m almost done.” He grumbles.

“You’ve been saying that for weeks now.” You frown deeply and nudge the tea closer to him. “At this rate everything will be in vain. It won’t work if—“

“IT WILL WORK!” Miguel screams, slamming his fist onto the table enough to shake the cup of tea's contents, spilling the sleeping pill. “It has to!”

You jump back, heart racing at his outburst.

Miguel huffs and collects himself, anxiously running his hands through his hair. He drags his hands down his face and rubs his eyes.

“Sorry, shock, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t mean to yell at you. You're right—it’s the, uh, lack of sleep.” He sounds exhausted. Every word slurring and when he relaxed even for a moment, his body drooped forward.

“You know better than to do that…” You whisper and he looks up at you with heartbreak in his eyes.

“I…I know, mi cielo—pero—“ Miguel gives you a weak smile, some light coming back to his eyes. “Look. Look! The—the arms! They’re almost complete!” He rushes towards you, ignorant to the way you step back and flinch when he takes your hand in his.

Miguel leads you to where the tentacles stand and presents it to you with a wide smile. “You see here?” He points to the spinal cord of the contraption. “All these ridges really gave me a run for my money. When trying to attach it to the body, they would stick and often fall. If these are to be used for prosthetics then it needs to not just be connected to the body but a part of it. As if the limb never left—or-or better—made better.” He laughs to himself, placing a hand over his mouth as he stares adoringly at the machine.

Meanwhile your eyes squint. “How…how would you know that? How would you know how they react to connecting to the human body? I thought…this was unstable for human testing.”

Miguel scoffs, waving his hand at you. “No one gets far in their inventions by worrying about the dangers, mija! THINK!” He shouts.

You’re horrified, darting your eyes between his bloodshot eyes and the tentacles. “You didn’t…”

Miguel is already on his way to the device and stands in front of it. The spine digs into Miguel’s back and he grunts, the vest he added secures around his waist, lighting up a soft green. The chip snaps into his neck and Miguel stumbles but regains balance. He slowly stands back up and the tentacles come to life, swirling and curling around him. In the midst of the tentacles wiggling around, it slammed against tables and chairs—knocking the tea you had gotten him to the floor.

“Think about how many lives we could save. Mi amor, mi vida, mi corazón, we’re at the brink of the next stage of human evolution!” His tentacles whip wildly around him as if cheering along with him.

“What…are you talking about?!” You yell, exasperated. “‘Human evolution’? Are you insane?!”

The bottom two green arms slam into the ground, breaking the floor as it’s crushed under the weight of Miguel. They lift him higher so he’s well above you—more than he already is. You take a step back, his height and strength becoming much more prominent.

“Do you think I’m insane, corazón?” Miguel asks softly. There’s a hint of green in his eyes.

“We’re—“ You gasp. “We’re meant to make prosthetics. Legs, arms—I thought this was a test to the future but this…” You run your eyes down the arms of the green silicon. Its claws are digging firm into the ground, holding up a six foot nine man’s weight with ease. Miguel’s face is contorted in a scowl, a burning rage underneath his beautiful brown eyes—a light green glowing in the highlights.

“This…is not you…” “What would you know about me?! You’re just some assistant that doesn’t know jackshit other than printing a few papers! All while I worked on this myself!” One of his upper tentacles slam next to you which makes you jump and lose your balance so you could fall to the ground.

“Day and night, all you did was be some aching headache, forcing me tea and pills when I should be wringing Osborn’s neck with my bare hands to show him what exactly he missed out on!” Miguel cackles, his tentacles lifting him higher like a God.

You’re afraid. Very afraid. It all happened so fast. Who was this man?

The tears well up in your eyes and for a minute—if you said another word it would trigger Miguel to kill you.

Miguel must’ve seen the terror on your face, tears bubbling at your water line and falling down your cheeks while you shivered. He must’ve because his sinister smile dropped slowly, his arms lowering him down.

“No, no, no—bella—no. That’s—it wasn’t me—“ Miguel’s feet finally touch the ground and when he does, he hisses, gripping his head as an agonizing headache surges through his mind. He groaned and moaned and took several steps back away from you.

“No! Don’t make her look at me like that! She’s afraid! Don’t scare her! Don’t make her fear me!” He screams, hyperventilating as his legs shake beneath him.

“What? No! I want Osborn! Not her! She didn’t do anything! Leave her alone! Please!” Miguel’s releases tears, giant globs flowing down his face as he faces an internal battle and the tentacles go haywire.

Finding your chance, you shakily get up from the floor, scrambling to your feet to the exit. You scream and fall after just a few steps, Miguel’s tentacles zipping past your head to break through the wall by the door. Another worker outside screams, peering through the hole and witnessing Miguel looking down at you with fury. They run off and it creates a domino effect for an evacuation.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Miguel growls and hovers closer to your shaking body. You turn over your shoulder, heart hammering in your ears and chest. You feel like you can’t breathe.

“Miggy…” You whimper. Miguel’s eye twitches and he looks like he’s struggling between himself and whatever it is that’s in his head.

He stutters your name out before his face is webbed and he groans. Four separate webs wrap around Miguel’s tentacles to attach to his body. Miguel glares up and sees a familiar red and blue suit with big white eyes.

“Don’tcha know it’s rude to be mean to a pretty lady?” The hero quips, standing front of you to protect you.

“Spider-Man…” You gasp—relief filling your chest.

“Spider-Man.” Miguel growls and rips himself free from the webs only to be hindered again once more—this time with stronger webs and with a force strong enough to stick him to a wall.

“Nope! Not yet! I’m still trying to figure out what exactly you are, so give me like five minutes to save some civilians. Thanks, you’re a swell guy!” Spider-Man winks and picks you up in his arms and quickly swings you away to safety.

You look over Spider-Man's shoulder while he swings away and you could barely hear Miguel scream in frustration, his body fighting against the webs. Inside, your heart breaks as you wonder if maybe there was a chance to save him.

A/N: i dont see doc ock miggys. i would like to see more.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara #atsv x reader #atsv x y/n #miguel o'hara imagine

558 notes · View notes

radiance1 · 7 months ago

Text

Unintelligible chanting echoed in a warehouse. A perfect summoning circle drawn on the ground with one cultist standing before it with a group more standing behind them.

Even thought the chanting was unintelligible, it was perfect. Not a clipped word or uneven tone out of place as they all, in unison, chanted the words to summon an almighty being from beyond.

Even as interlopers broke in the warehouse, they didn't stop chanting, only the cultists who weren't chanting and were previously standing around the room, broke away in an attempt to stall.

The circle glowed a toxic, unnatural green before growing dark yet darker. A black, mist like substance spreading from its focal point and out into the bounds of the circle before twisting and twisting as the temperature rose and grew into a sweltering heat that could be felt all throughout the warehouse.

They did not stop chanting.

Even as the last of their guard fell.

They did not stop chanting.

Even as some of the cultists at the back of the group started to engage in combat.

They did not stop chanting.

Until finally, the black mist twisted into a brilliant, unnatural black flame as the heat soared and shaped itself in the giant form of a bird before larger than large wings snapped themselves open.

Black flame slide off of the being's form like water, small flickers of deceptively harmless looking flame trailed down the bounds of the summoning circle as the phoenix lowered itself.

"So we meet again." The being spoke, its very presence demanding attention and respect. Impossibly red eyes focused all of their intent on the cultist and the helm. "What do you want this time? I am quite busy, as I'm sure you should be aware."

"O'h' great one," The cultist fell to their knees, hands spreading up and out reminiscent of a prayer. "The deepest flame, the guardian of the blackest fire, rival of the-"

"Enough of that nonsense." The being snapped, scoffing as it turned its head in disdain. "I did not answer your pitiful call just to hear you praise me. Make your demand, now. I have an appointment to keep."

The cultist seemed to deflate, for but a mere moment, before lowering their hands and clasping them in front of their chest. "O' great one, I have sowed the seeds and cultivated a cult in your name through the ages, we are might in number and consistent in our worship."

"I do not need a recap." The Pheonix said, blandly. Looking utterly disinterested in the cultist's words. "Your demand."

"After all of this, surely you would not mind parting with but a bit of your power?" The cultist asked and finally, the Pheonix seemed to stare with something more than mere disinterest before snapping its head up. "Do not interfere, mere interlopers." It snapped.

The heroes froze as, suddenly, they felt held down in place.

It then disregarded them, staring back down at the cultist before him with some level of interest and clicked its tongue. "Already blessed with immortality yet you wish for more? How..." Its eyes seemed to smile. Amused. As it purred. "Ambitious."

"Please, O' great one. Just a bit. A mere fraction would be enough."

"Oh all alright," The Pheonix said, holding up a wing as it plucked off a feather with its beak. "I suppose you have done enough to be worthy of a bit of my power."

The feather flew down from its beak, encased within a ball of black flame that, as the cultist spread their arms, fused into their chest.

"Do try not to be consumed by it. As I do expect noteworthy things from you."

With that, the Pheonix disappeared in a puff of mist like fire. The circle instantly losing all vibrancy and the sweltering heat snuffing itself out.

And the heroes were free of whatever magic kept them bound in place.

The cultist slowly stood up, back facing them as something bubbled up under the back of their cloak before large, flaming wings burst through the cloth of their cloak. They slowly turned around, and the movement almost looked serene, and faced the heroes.

The cultist slowly spread their hands. "I would have thought the Justice League would have handled this matter themselves, not send their younglings after me." They spoke, calm and measured and holding no feeling whatsoever. Black flame spilled from their hands as they stretched their wings.

"Come. Young heroes. You would be the perfect steppingstone to test my new abilities."

#dc x dp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp crossover #In case you didn't know #The Pheonix is Vlad #The cultist is an immortal #Young Justice was sent to check it out #Not gonna lie this seems like a boss fight #And the dialogue between Vlad and the cultist was like some kinda cutscene #Lawl #You have no idea how much I considered making the cultist some immortal child #Who was saved by Vlad on a whim and has been summoning him through the ages like a child would #To excitedly show their parent their progress #Also probably not important but the cultist is gender-neutral because idk I just didn't feel like gendering them

281 notes · View notes

curi0us-gh0st · 1 year ago

Text

Unexpected Love (Ha Do-yeong & Jeon Jae-jun)

pairings: Ha Do-yeong x Fem!Reader, Jeon Jae-jun x Fem!Reader.

word count: 1.904

genre: fluffy, smut.

summary: In unusual situations, love can arise.

warnings: shy Do-yeong, drinking, kissing, grinding, blowjob, cum on face, annoying Jae-jun (start), swearing, groping, riding, shy reader running away from Jae-jun, romantic Jae-jun (?).

a/n: hey guys, I'm placing orders now... I had no internet these days, so I'm late! patience sweethearts 😭🤲🏻

request: yes, I just forgot to reply 😭

Ha Do-yeong

★ Do-yeong saw you for the first time at a business meeting, you were a partner in one of the companies that wanted to partner with his company. You looked stunning in a tight knee-length skirt, a gray blazer and a white blouse, simple but in Ha's eyes it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He was so shy with her presence that he had to gather strength to talk to her about the company, her sweet and gentle voice made the hairs on his skin stand up and his heart beat faster in his chest.

★ After several formal meetings between business partners, he asked you out, you smiled at how he seemed nervous and was denying that he wanted to take advantage of you, that he wasn't that kind of man. He said he would pick him up at home and he did, wearing one of his expensive suits, he stopped in front of his house; Do-yeong went out to open the door for you and when he saw you leaving his house in a long dress that perfectly hugged your body, his jaw dropped to the floor, struck by your beauty, if you were already beautiful at work, imagine casually. He opened the car door so nervous that his hands were sweating, him praising how you were doing, the drive to the restaurant was him trying to stop praising you with every word that came out of your mouth as you giggled softly at his cuteness.

★ Dinner was something magical, the restaurant was so elegant and luxurious, there were candles on the tables in the room, music softly playing in the background, orders were made while you talked about your personal lives and ended up talking about work. The minutes you spent together, full of laughter and compliments, all very polite and romantic, you realized that there was something about him that attracted you, you liked him and his gentlemanly way.

★ He took her to a more private area of the restaurant, where there was a deck, the moonlight shining along with some candles, comfortable armchairs, couples hugging each other because of the cold while holding a glass of wine. Do-yeong ordered two glasses, standing up next to you in one of the armchairs and saying that he loved meeting you, how brilliant you are and an excellent worker.

★ With the arrival of the wine, he felt really shy, becoming more smiling and flirtatious, he noticed that you were starting to shrink, he took off his own blaze and placed it on your shoulders to keep you warm. In a moment, your eyes met, smiles on your faces, your hearts beating in sets, warm and excited, then, you separated the distance between you, kissing his lips, him feeling your soft and plump lips on his, a kiss calm and passionate, followed by several other kisses.

★ He quickly paid the bill and took it home, his hand on your thigh as he drove. When they arrived in front of your house, you pulled him inside and started kissing, this time being more hot and needy, you looked into his eyes to see if he wanted that too, when he gave the green flag, devouring him. You became so fierce, maybe it was because of the glasses of wine you drank. He almost died when you took off your dress and threw it away, just stripping down to your lingerie and sitting on his lap, your eyes on his and saying, "I know I'm not that kind of person, just like you, but you're so sweet that I need it. You seem so right." you whimpered into his ear.

★ You started rubbing against him, so softly. Some murmurs came out of his mouth as she kissed him and his hands wandered around his waist. He kisses down her neck and his hands go to her breasts to massage, pressing them against her bra. Your hands unbuttoning his shirt, reaching his belt buckle, you got up from him and knelt in front of him, pulling down his pants, so submissive to him, his thick and big cock, barely closed in your hand, you almost worried if would fit you. You licked his glans, which expelled pre-semen, making him moan, licking the length to his balls, leaving no part unattended.

★ Your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock and swallowed it, putting it down your throat and taking it out, his head moving up and down, him murmuring how good you were doing, he grabbed a handful of your hair, starting to pump it into your mouth from behind of your pleasure, when his hips stuttered and you took him out of your mouth, cupping the valley of your soft breasts and stimulating him again until he released jets of cum covering your breasts and your chin.

★ He mumbled something watching you lick your chin until he got up and climbed onto you making you let out a little scream, lying on your back on the soft sofa, without delay, stuffing your insides and starting to pound you, your moans being music to his ears , begging him to go faster as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her nails hurting his shoulders and back. The sound of their skin slapping together, their sweaty bodies, sloppy kisses, their stained skin, panting and needing an orgasm.

★ He pounded into you more, feeling on edge as he shed a few tears as he moaned that he was close. You came in a strong orgasm, screaming loudly as you arched his back, pressing your chest to his, he hit it a few more times until he withdrew and came on your thigh. Silence filled the place, as he looked at you, brushing a few strands of hair off your sweaty face and gave you a gentle smile, saying: "I never imagined you would do something like that. You are unreal.", leaving you shy as you hid the face on his neck and he laughed in his own way.

Jeon Jae-jun

★ When you met Jae-jun, you found him irritating and presumptuous, thinking that the world revolved around him and he could have everything he had whenever he wanted. But you wouldn't say that, because he was his boss. The way he treated his employees was that of an arrogant and annoying boss, you and the others always had to swallow the complaints coming from Jeon in silence.

★ He wasn't the sweetest person in the world, but I must admit that he was handsome and seductive, it depended on what he was using that charm for, he was actually nice. Good, kind. One night, it was raining a lot and you were the only one there to close the store, there was no way to go with the storm on the other side of the window, it was heavy rain.

★ His eyes were looking outside when suddenly his boss came out of the "fitting room", upon seeing you he turned off his phone and put it away. "What the fuck, this all of a sudden!" He complained seeing that he couldn't get out of there so soon. "Are you still here? Oh, why?" Jeon addressed you. "I was closing the store, I didn't know you were there." She answered his question shyly.

★ He mumbled a few more things, walking side to side, until everything went dark. The light went away with the storm, of course; Bad place and time for this. "What the hell- We pay the power bill this month?" He asked again, receiving a nod. He took off his blazer with the heat that was starting to form, you swallowed hard seeing his muscular body, quickly looking away.

★ He sat next to you, his cell phone went dead and if he walked a little further it would ring louder. The silence was occupied by the sound of rain outside, not knowing what to do, nervous. You always denied that you had a crush on your boss, even if he was a scumbag, he was hot. Jae-jun looked at you, taking in your features and realizing how beautiful you were, his eyes traveling down the side of your face to your breasts trapped in your work blazer. "You're pretty, wow." He praised without thinking and you gasped. "What?" You asked and when you went to turn around, you felt his lips on yours.

★ He held the back of your head, kissing your lips in a rough, therefore delicate, way. At first, hesitant until you reciprocate. Just pulling away when he was out of breath, seeing his bruised lips, starting to kiss down, leaving open-mouthed kisses on his neck, unbuttoning his blazer and throwing it in some corner of the floor. So confused and excited that your shaking hands didn't know what to do, what were you doing? His hands quickly moving up to take off their clothes.

★ You barely remember how you got to the dressing room, sitting on your boss's dick while he said dirty things in your ears, fucking your brains out until your brains were mush. The rain falling heavily, the heat of the room and their bodies feeling as if they were on fire from the lack of light, their sweaty, thrashing bodies causing sounds that filled the room, their stained necks, messy hair, dizzy with pleasure and eager to reach its peak.

★ "Fuck! I never thought your pussy would be so good to fuck. I should have done it sooner Y/N, you're so hot." He said thrusting his hips into you, moaning together and kissing your lips in a way that made your hearts catch fire. Why is he saying these things? You thought, he wasn't that kind of person, but you weren't caring at the moment, feeling her dick kiss your cervix, making you moan louder. Both tired and overwhelmed, reaching their limits, so sensitive and weak, their bodies becoming limp until they lay down straight on the couch.

★ In the following days, you didn't speak to each other, you barely looked into his eyes, out of shame and shyness, you had sex with your boss, at the place you work, you just wanted to get into the ground even more because you couldn't get him out of own head. Intrusive thoughts causing excitement as he worked, flash of him fucking you in every position imaginable, abusing and filling your pussy perfectly with his thick, robust cock. When he would appear when you had these thoughts, making you blush and dizzy, always finding a way to escape.

★ Until one day, he cornered you. "Why are you running away from me?", quickly responding saying that he wasn't and that he was just doing his job, until an: "Um… Are you still thinking about me fucking your pussy?", his head shaking negatively, completely flushed and embarrassed. "It's okay. I hope you are, because I haven't stopped thinking about you since that day." Jae-jun whispered until he kissed you in a different, passionate and unusual way, your heart melting in your chest until he pulled away and smiled. "Tomorrow, at 8pm. I'll pick you up at your house, wear your best clothes." he said before kissing your lips again and leaving, leaving a red and confused you, almost bursting with happiness.

#👻 gh0st headcanons !#fluffy #smut #the glory #kdrama #kdrama fic #kdrama smut #ha do yeong #ha doyeong x reader #jeon jae jun #jeon jaejun x reader

853 notes · View notes