#at all times.. what about THAT hmm?? .. the ideal..
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If you had to pick which one social media to use for the rest of your life which would it be?
they all kind of suck LOL but id probably end up saying like discord (until a better alternative comes along ofc) or something because thats where all my dms with my friends are :] i wouldnt say i have a particular loyalty to any social media site though, not like i used to when i was younger
2. What game would u never get tired of playing?
hm. im not sure actually. i tend to rotate through games and if ive played them once i find it hard to replay. so maybe none?
3. kiss marry kill: the grinch, dr robotnik and the lorax
i said this before but i would feel bad killing any of them :[ maybe id kiss the lorax and marry robotnik.
4. which one of your ocs has the most of your personal characteristics?
difficult question because i think that would be easier for someone else to answer rather than me. maybe teo? but not in the ways you would think given what you know about him
5. which oc or fictional character would u pick to exist in real life?
ummmm um ummmmm. let me think. how about scorpia she ra. i think she'd have fun in real life.
6. What song would you pick to play in your funeral?
fuckk idk. maybe take care by sasami. thats a very comforting song for me
7. What's your first impression of me :3c
THATS MY FRAND!!!! hi :]
8. What media fuels your creativity the most?
hmm. reading a good book or webcomic will always inspire me i think. i really dont do that enough <- guy who reads slop to pass the time
9. If we were to hang out irl what would ideally be the best environment or activity for it?
good question. im really bad at figuring out that kind of stuff. probably just hanging out i think. with some snacks :] just chilling at a house
10. Name your five favourite things about meeeeeeeeee :3333
ok (taps chin) let me pick just 5 - you are very knowledgeable about things i have never heard of so i feel like i learn new stuff whenevr we chat
you come across as very confident in the things you enjoy and talk about which inspires me to be more like that about the things i like
your art is so lovely and has so much effort and care put into it, i always enjoy seeing it
i like your ocs!! they're still fairly new but i look forward to hearing more about them and learning about their personalities/dynamics :] i also just think they're cool in general hehe
and my final favourite thing is that you're my friend!! yayyy :] it makes me happy to remember this
thank u for the tag!
Ten questions to ask a mutual
Instructions: prev asks ten questions and you answer them, then ask ten new ones and tag ten people to keep the chain going! I’ll go first
What is the weirdest thing you’ve eaten? (For me it’s the time I accidentally drank ants)
do you like purple or green more? (For me it’s a 50/50 I love them both)
what is your favorite two color color combo? (For me it’s purple and gold)
are you a cat or dog person? (Dogs 100%)
what is your favorite painting (Miranda by John William Waterhouse)
Mountains or beaches? (Mountains)
what’s your favorite dessert? (Lemon bars)
are you right or left handed? (Right but I used to be left handed)
salty or sweet? (Sweet)
summer or winter? (Winter)
I’m tagging 11 people but it’s whatever
@wra1th-k1ng
@bladevoyager
@tragedyanddust
@kindred-spirit-93
@urfavgreekmythnerd
@sickneurotic
@ry-diggity
@we-are-but-dead-stars
@thestarryfalls
@tamaruaart
@hermesmoly
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— s1!jayvik headcanons /(>×<)\
synopsis: viktor and jayce need the help of a new investor to keep up with their research and fall in love with his daughter <3
tw: suggestive, reader is an spoiled brat, established!jayvik, not canon obv, jayce’s lowk pathetic, reader calls her father “daddy”, viktor takes the lead, choking mention if u squint, etc.
s1!jayvik who, with sky’s help, managed to find an aristocrat in piltover who was willing to meet with them and talk about hextech.
s1!jayvik who attend to your maybe-too-big mansion to discuss terms with your father while having dinner, and you were there too (๑╹ᆺ╹)
s1!jayvik who were known all over topside for being a pair of handsome inventors and curiosity peeked trough you, fixated on meeting them.
s1!jayvik who expected your father and your father alone, jayce shy at your presence and viktor already staging ways to approach you later.
s1!jayvik who, while dinner occurs, don’t fail to notice your cute curls and your lipstick a beautiful shade of crimson, you just playing a fool even though you knew you caught their eye the first second they stepped inside your house.
s1!jayce who’s mesmerized in the way your lips wrap around the fork to take a bite, on how you push your long hair aside while drinking, maybe even how your necklace decorated your throat, thinking his hand would look better (ʃᵕ̩̩ ᵕ̩̩⑅)
s1!jayce who feels the real shame every time he has to excuse himself to your father because he didn’t really paid attention to what he said. such a silly boy :(
s1!viktor who’s a lot better at hiding his lustful gazes, having the investment a priority; after getting the accord, he can worry about how he’ll get under your garments.
s1!viktor who actually listens and actually eats something at the dinner.
s1!viktor who notices deeper details about you, the moles all over your skin, the number of little diamonds your ring had, the way one of your eyebrows was thinner than the other (how your breast almost spilled out of your white dress), you know, deeper details ♡→ܫ←♡
⠀ ⠀ “so, I need to make sure my money is sent to smart hands, gentlemen, can you show me anything about this hextech thing?” your dad spoke in a deep voice that echoed the grand dining room, contrasting with the soft violin playing on the background.
⠀ ⠀ “of course! we brought tons of sketches and studies and analysis and—” jayce implied excited, always happy to talk about the project of his life, being interrupted by viktor’s skinny hand on his shoulder while the other one passed a notebook to your father.
⠀ ⠀ “that’s all you’re actually interested in, sir.” he declared with a thick accent, it made you curious to know where it belonged to.
s1!jayce who anxiously plays with viktor’s brace under the table, tracing its shape while shaking his leg, looking adorably concerned.
s1!viktor who caresses the big hand that toyed with the metal around his calf and knee, circling motions over his knuckles to calm his partner down.
⠀ ⠀ your father didn’t seem to really trust the idea brought to the table, the implication of magic clashing with his ideals. therefore you leaned closer to him, head against his shoulder as you read the notebook as well, noticing viktor’s neat handwriting.
⠀ ⠀ “oh, daddy, isn’t this just so so so interesting?” you voiced with a honey sweet tone, locking his arm with your own.
⠀ ⠀ “look, portals to quickly travel between regions? imagine all the money piltover would make, all thanks to you investing in ‘em.” you murmured now, locking eyes with viktor, who was smirking at you subtly, jayce too nervous to even hear what you said (◕︿◕✿)
⠀ ⠀ “hmm, still, darling, magic?” your father questioned with a slight disgust in his voice, putting the papers down and sighing while massaging his mustache.
⠀ ⠀ “wasn’t piltover the city of progress? this really seems like progress to me…” you looked at him with a pout plastered on your juicy lips. “i think leaving old stigmas and taboos behind is really… progressy.”
s1!jayvik who watch you leave towards the gardens after making your father deal with them a crazy amount of money with just some puppy eyes and sultry voice.
s1!jayvik who catch a glimpse of your white nightgown covering the grass of said garden while you sat down, playing around with a stray cat, it almost seemed like you were waiting for them.
s1!jayvik who approach you after viktor insisted, to thank you, and maybe have an intimate conversation with you, too.
⠀ ⠀ “thank you for interfering, my lady, if it wasn’t for you we would’ve left empty handed.” viktor confessed while siting down on the stone bench under the white pergola where you sat, the moonlight highlighting your angel-like features, leaving his cane on top of said surface.
⠀ ⠀ jayce sat down in front of you in the floor with some distance, legs crossed and arms propped behind him, tilting his head to the side when he noticed how you scooted closer to him and blushing to this right after.
⠀ ⠀ “well, it wasn’t charity, you know.” you murmur in a sweet tone, curling your hair around your manicured finger as you stood on your knees, taking support from jayce’s thick thigh to end up facing viktor from above, as if you were worshipping him.
⠀ ⠀ the skinnier man scoffed at this, noticing how your cheek rested now against his inner thigh, how your hair fell down your exposed back as jayce held your hand to take place in the empty space next to you, mimicking how you rested your head to stare at you, viktor caressing his now not so put together hair in a way he seemed to be accustomed already.
⠀ ⠀ “then, what is it that you desire from us in exchange, little angel?” he questioned with that accent that you started to fall in love with, his thin fingers coming down to hold your chin, making you look up to him.
⠀ ⠀ “mmm, i dunno…” you feigned hesitation, reaching jayce’s handsome face to scratch behind his ear slowly, noticing how he didn’t comply, such a puppy. “maybe take me to your laboratory and show me your advances from time to time.” you pouted when you felt his thumb smudge some of your expensive lipstick away.
⠀ ⠀ “wouldn’t want you two forgetting about me.” you confessed before taking said thumb between your lips, looking up to him. jayce took your smaller hand between his, inhaling your cherry scented hand cream before peppering kisses all over it.
⠀ ⠀ “we would never forget about you, bunny.” he said softly against your skin, caressing your cheek while you kept on sucking viktor’s finger, adverting your gaze to him now. “you can come over anytime, maybe we can make you find science more interesting.”
⠀ ⠀ viktor chuckled before emptying your mouth and leaving jayce’s hair be, gaining a whine from both of you. “so it is settled, we’ll see you tomorrow at the academy, correct?” he asked while taking his cane to stand up from where he sat, motioning his hand to order jayce to do the same.
⠀ ⠀ you imitate their actions, tidying your hair before grabbing their holding hands with yours, standing on your tippy toes to leave a noisy smooch against their cheeks, decorating them with the granate of your lips. “you most definitely will, gentlemen.”
s1!jayvik who don’t notice how your father stared at the whole play from the beginning, shaking his head on disappointment at you; always playing around with men.
s1!jayvik who walk towards their ride in silence, jayce still inhaling your lingering scent and the soft of you lips against his cheeks, viktor trying to not think too much about the growing boner you gave him (*_ _)人
a/n: i’m obsessed with this setting, part 2 maybe? (*^ω^)
#arcane#arcane headcanons#arcane imagines#arcane jayce#arcane viktor#arcane jayvik#jayce x reader#viktor x reader#jayvik x reader#jayce smut#viktor smut#jayvik smut#jayce headcanons#viktor headcanons#jayvik headcanons
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Yummy Yummy Eye
Finally indulged in my fantasy of licking Silco's mutated eye and decided to write a reader insert fic of it.
Not beta read, and can also be found on AO3 here.
Word Count: 2.6k
Relationships: Silco x You, Silco x GN!Reader
Tags: Eye Sex, Eye Licking, No Smut/Sex, But heavily suggestive, Some Fluff, Shimmer, Inappropriate Use of Shimmer, I guess?, Trust, Biting kink, Only mentioned though, Established Relationship, Teasing, Suggestive Themes
Summary: You’ve been dying to lick Silco’s mutated eye since the first time you both met.
A couple of months later and after some slight conversation with him, it looks like you’ll finally get your wish, and it'll help ease that itch inside you that desires the unknown.
You couldn’t stop staring at his eye. The brilliant orange and black that it was. You just needed to do this. To curb the itch that just wouldn’t go away.
Just one little lick. One little taste and it’ll all be good.
Gods you were salivating at the thought. This desire had been hounding you since the moment you had met Silco in all his intimidating glory.
A chance encounter when you decided to drink at The Last Drop and found yourself entranced by the striking man smoking a cigar in the far dark corner of the bar. What hooked you first though was his glowing orange and black eye that seemed to be staring through you. You weren’t one to waste an opportunity and had decided to join him at his table.
With a little talking and some exchange of ideals, you both hit it off fairly well.
Now months later found you both in an intense relationship of power and trust, with you currently sitting on his office’s couch, watching him read over reports at his desk. His damaged eye occasionally flickered a brighter shade of orange when something piqued his interest.
The Shimmer has to add some flavor. Hmm, fruity perhaps? No, no maybe salty with some spice? Would he even let me try?
A deep sigh brought you out of your musings, and you glanced up to see Silco staring at you with a hint of amusement and annoyed curiosity.
“As much as I generally love your undivided attention, I am trying to work at the moment. I can see that you’re thinking about something, so please, spit it out already.”
While the words were a bit sharp, you knew intrigue was overtaking the displeasure of being interrupted while working.
You glanced down at your hands, fiddling with a book you had given up reading a while ago, as you tried to stay nonchalant. Silco would instantly know if you tried to lie or avoid the question, so there was no use in bothering to bypass it. Besides this relationship was deeply built on trust and loyalty, and you weren’t about to forsake that. With a small hum and shrug of your shoulders, you replied almost boredly, “Just curious about your eye.”
Silco put down his pen and leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking softly in the otherwise quiet room. Whatever annoyance he had before melted away as deep curiosity took place with a slight gleam and flash of orange in his eye.
“You already know how it came to look this way, and the burdens that came along with it.” A slight tilt of his head as he stared at you questioningly. “What more can be ascertained from it?”
Usually, you had no qualms about what you asked about. Both of you had been open books with each other once the relationship was officially founded. It wouldn’t even be that outrageous of an inquiry compared to past conversations.
But this…felt different. Felt personal in the way that it could be too weird. That Silco may finally deny a request from you. Granted he had also encouraged any weird fantasies either of you had. Zaun knows you were both a little fucked up in the head, especially being from the Undercity. Vanilla was a foreign concept to either of you.
Yet licking the reminder of why he had become a Chem-Baron? The reminder of the life he had lost? The one noticeable physical weakness that he had? That felt too close to prying open an old wound.
But you knew this conversation would come up sooner or later. You weren’t exactly subtle when it came to your fascination with his eye. He knew how much it riled you up. How much you loved it when it glowed that deep possessive orange that occasionally flickered red. How you stroked the skin around it with an almost worshipping fervor.
Yeah, you’re honestly surprised he never questioned you about it sooner. But it seems now it’s time to own up to the fantasy that’s been looping through your mind.
Putting the now-shut book you were holding on the table next to you, you looked up, focusing on the eye that haunted and possessed you with such desires. With as much honesty and longing as you could muster you finally let it spill out.
“I just really want to taste it. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to lick your eye, Silco. It’s like an itch that’s festering into an open wound the longer I think about it.”
With that, you waited with bated breath to see what the most powerful Chem-Baron in the Undercity would think about someone licking his fucking eye.
For a few agonizing seconds, Silco made no comment, as if he hadn’t heard your question at all, but if the increasing glow of his eye was any indication, he definitely found your question very affecting.
You still held your breath in anticipation, trying to convey that you meant the question truthfully and weren’t messing with him. The more his eye glowed the hungrier you became, and the stronger that inner itch gnawed at you.
You would describe the itch as a yearning for the unknown. When you saw a carrot you knew the experience you would have eating it. You knew the feeling of it crunching between your teeth. The natural sweetness that enveloped your taste buds (or bitterness depending on if it was grown down here) but you knew what it would feel and taste like before you even put it into your mouth.
Silco’s eye (and many other past tastings) were unknown. You had no idea what the taste or texture would be like, and it ate you up inside wanting to try it. Sure you could theorize it to past things you’ve had the fortune of trying, but that still didn’t appease the innate itch to try the unknown. Yes, you knew that tears were salty, but tasting tears didn’t equate to licking an entire eye in your mind. And with the Shimmer that Silco injected into his eye, you knew it had to add some flavor.
I wonder if it tastes different depending on when it’s glowing or not?
You could feel yourself becoming frenzied at the idea. Nails bit into your pant legs where you were gripping your thighs, muscles tensed, but to lunge forward and forcibly try a taste or to run away you didn’t know.
Finally, Silco reacted, with a hum and a slight uptilt of his lips, eye still flaring brightly, he walked over and joined you on the couch. Sitting down with the gracefulness of a predator he turned towards you and patted his lap encouragingly.
You didn’t hesitate to slide onto it, facing him as he rested his hands on your thighs. You weren’t one to waste an opportunity after all, and it seemed like Silco was more than attentive to your desire.
You placed your hands on his shoulder, one of them scratching through the hairs at the back of his neck. Focusing on his face you saw him deeply looking at you, no, looking through you.
He chuckled softly in the dimly lit room, “I knew you were only interested in me for my eye. So all that desire I saw was just so you could lick it? My my I knew you were fascinated, but this wasn’t something I predicted. And an itch that feels like an open wound you say? We don’t want that now, do we?” Throughout this he had started rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs, causing you to relax into him more and release some of the tension you had still been holding.
You knew he wasn’t poking fun at you, and after he finished speaking you saw that besides the inherent interest still present in his expression, he now seemed to have a spark of his own desires showing as well. His eyes raked hungrily over your face, stopping occasionally at your mouth.
Composing your thoughts, you looked into his good eye and felt yourself curl in pleasure at the acceptance he was giving you. With some confidence from seeing your desire reflected back, you smiled softly and murmured, “You know I love you for all of you.” You paused and smirked, “But your eye is definitely a captivating sight, and the thing that garnered my initial interest in you when we first met.”
Silco feigned a wounded look, “And here I thought it was my rogue charm and wit that had captivated you.”
You snorted a laugh, “Those too, but there’s just something so delicious about your eye.” You gazed longingly at it, licking over your lips and teeth.
He watched amused. “I thought you said you wanted to lick it, not eat it.”
You rolled your eyes in mock offense. “Don’t worry, I wouldn’t go that far. As much as I enjoy feeling you on my teeth, I don’t desire to bite your eye.”
He looked fondly at you. “How reassuring. But you still haven’t said why the urge to lick my eye feels like an open wound.”
You shrugged, “It’s like I’ve mentioned to you before when I’ve eaten something I shouldn’t have. I can’t control it. I see something that may taste interesting and I get an intense desire to follow through on it. The longer I try to avoid it, the more it eats away at my thoughts until I can only think about trying it.” You had explained this before a few times when Silco had caught you eating stuff you really shouldn’t have, so even though it still scared him at times, he knew you were being truthful, and nodded to show he understood.
Tilting his head in thought he replied carefully, “So I’m to assume you’ve been wanting to lick my eye since the first time we met? That’s an awfully long time then. In fact, the longest I’ve ever seen you try to avoid trying something was a few days, and that was with Sevika forcibly holding you back. How have you managed this long with my eye?”
Again you shrugged like it was the most obvious answer, “For the exact reason that it’s your eye. It’s not some random thing I found lying around, and I didn’t want to possibly make you uncomfortable. We both have our boundaries and I associated your eye as part of one.”
Silco appeared to accept that answer, again giving a slight nod, but it still seemed he couldn’t help but prod a little. “I’ve let you touch it before.”
Now you were the one looking at him amused, and with a sarcastic tone responded, “Touching is quite different from straight up licking it, Silco.”
He smiled all sharp teeth. “Perhaps, but it’s just a different kind of touch, is it not?” His smile grew wider, going a little feral as his eye pulsed eagerly, “And one that I’m not opposed to either. You know me. There’s very little that I would say no to you too.” His grip on your thighs tightened before loosening slightly, showing his interest but allowing you an out if needed.
You were not about to back out now. Months of craving even the smallest touch of your tongue to his eye built up in a tidal wave inside you. Tightening your hold on the back of his neck and shoulder you leaned forward, further encouraged by Silco who had moved one of his hands behind your head, guiding you closer.
You tensed back up in anticipation, tunnel-visioned on his eye. Nothing would be able to stop this moment now, you were in too deep and had to soothe that pulsing itch inside you that threatened to claw its way out.
With no other encouragement needed, you leaned the rest of the way in, but stopped mere millimeters away, breath ghosting over your long-coveted prize. Silco’s eye was flaring so bright it was almost blinding. Instead of diving in as you assumed Silco thought you would, you lightly kissed his eye, softly uttering a thank you, before slowly dragging the entire length of your tongue along it, savoring the moment and its smooth texture.
Silco’s hands tightened painfully when you sighed in pleasure, shivering in his embrace as you experienced what it must feel like to taste ambrosia from the gods.
As you had expected, Silco’s eye tasted divine.
Unsurprisingly it was salty but not overwhelmingly so, but quite unexpected was just how mouth-watering the Shimmer had enhanced it. A slight metal tang was quickly overpowered by a natural sweetness far exceeding anything you’ve ever tried. The closest thing you could think of in that moment was the one time you had licked off the pollen from a dandelion you’d found, but this was more intense than that. More potent due to the nature of Shimmer.
With one lick you felt like you were floating on ecstasy. This had far exceeded anything you could have theorized and the itch inside you quieted to a content purr. It didn't die away fully, and while that should have been a concern as it generally left after finally trying something, you knew that the desire to taste Silco’s eye would never truly go away now that you’d indulged in it.
Pulling back slightly and glancing down at Silco with half-lidded eyes, you noticed him breathing heavily, a flush covering his face as he looked at you with more love and desire than you knew what to do with.
With a rasp, he snarled at you. “Did I say you could stop?”
With a huff and a slight shudder you finally dove in like you knew you both wanted. Lapping at his eye with no amount of finesse you moaned greedily. Each stroke of your tongue brought in that sweet sinful flavor, causing you to float higher and higher in euphoria.
By the time you had had your fill, you were both panting and shivering in satisfaction. It looked as if Silco had enjoyed that experience as much as you had.
With a content sigh and a lick of your lips you leaned back, feeling drugged. “That was so fucking good, Silco. Thank you, though I feel that this may not be a one-time thing.”
Silco leaned back resting his head on the couch, his eye fading to a low glow. His grip on you had loosed a bit and he pulled you down to lie on his chest, words still a little breathless, “I was thinking the same.” He chuckled warmly and caressed your neck and back. “It seems we both enjoyed that more than we thought we would, and from the looks of it, I’m guessing you’re feeling the effects of Shimmer, hmm?”
You grunted softly as his warmth enveloped you. It did seem that you had enacted a bit of Shimmer just from licking his eye, and as the floaty feeling fully consumed you, a wave of tiredness also fell over you. But he wanted a verbal answer, so with a slight mumble you agreed before pressing yourself closer to him and relaxing your whole body.
He took the hint. Both of you felt the drained after-effects of the moment. The lead-up plus the final climax in events left you both feeling sated and content to just rest there.
Grabbing a blanket from nearby, Silco maneuvered you both to lie along the couch with you still resting over him. He draped the blanket over you both before pressing a lingering kiss to your head.
Before you fully drifted off into a nice post-eye-licking nap, you heard Silco whisper a quiet ‘I love you’ as a hand continued to stroke your back.
#silco x reader#silco x y/n#silco x you#gn reader#arcane#arcane fanfic#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#ao3#ao3 link#arcane season one#arcane series#silco#arcane silco#not beta read#tw eye stuff#my writing
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This one is a bit different, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Some more Little Scott with Jean, and a Logan cameo at the end. (cw: Scott has an accident)
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Scott mumbled complaints under his breath as he continued to work on his pile of mission reports. The past few days had been full of back to back missions, and rest when and wherever he could, so his reports had fallen to the wayside, until today. As always, he had far too much to do, and far too little time to do it. He might have actually been able to get them done today, had the professor not scheduled them all in for a danger room session that evening. If Scott didn't finish them now- an impossible feat, he concluded, looking at the papers spread across the desk- he would either have to do them after the danger room session, when he was exhausted, or in the early morning before classes for the day started. Neither of those were ideal, but they needed to get done sooner than later.
He startled when he heard Jean's voice across the library. "Scott?" She called, and he sighed as he resigned himself to getting no further work done until the session. Even if Jean left after five minutes, he knew he would no longer be in the mindset to do paperwork.
"Over here!" He called regardless, because even if he did not want to admit it to himself, a break would be appreciated. And maybe even beneficial to his focus, instead of detrimental. He smiled at Jean as she came into view, turning to face her properly.
"Hello Scott," Jean greeted him with a kiss. Scott sighed and relaxed slightly, looking up at her as she pulled away. "Mission reports?" She asked sympathetically, turning her gaze towards the papers spilled across the desk. Scott hummed in agreement, looking towards all his work too. He had seen the look on her face, it was the look that she got whenever she decided he needed to stop working for a little while, and she never failed to get him to do so. Scott knew he would lose this battle, but that didn't mean he wouldn't put up a fight-
Or not. Jean raked a hand through his hair and Scott melted, shoulders dropping and a shaky sigh escaped his lips. It was one of his biggest regrets that he had let Jean find out about his off switch, that a hand in his hair made him agreeable to practically anything. At the very least she had yet to share the knowledge with anyone. Small mercies.
"I think you need a break, hmm? Refresh your mind before the danger room?" Scott mumbled out some incomprehensible words, and when Jean paused in her motions, pushing his head towards her hand with a small whine. She laughed and resumed, and Scott shivered as he felt tingles down his spine. "Use your words please Scott. Do you need a break?"
And this was it, because Scott knew that if he said no, Jean probably wouldn't push. She'd leave him to his work, would be incredibly polite about Scott complaining of mental fatigue later, but Scott would know and she would know that he would have felt better if he had taken a break. But having to say that he needed a break felt like admitting defeat, even though he knows it shouldn't. A byproduct of being raised feeling like he needs to prove himself constantly.
Scott weighed his options. On one hand, if he stopped doing paperwork, he would have more to finish later when he was tired, but he would probably be more collected and therefore a better leader in the danger room session. If he didn't take a break, he'd still have to do paperwork later, but it would be less, and he might be a bit frazzled during the danger room session, which could lead to someone getting hurt, or another lecture from Charles about being a good leader.
"I... um." Jean stopped petting his hair for a moment, resting her hand on his head. She had given him time to process, something he was grateful for, and now he would give her what she wants. "I need a break." Scott said in a very quiet voice, nearly silent, but Jean heard it.
"Good choice," She praised, spinning Scott's chair around and kissing his forehead. Scott squirmed, a blush spreading from ear to ear, because he hated- loved- when Jean would do that. Praise him, compliment him, it made him feel all warm and fuzzy, and like he was too full of emotions. Even after years of being together, he had yet to get used to it, and Jean loved to tease him about it. Today though, she spared him the teasing and simply offered a hand to help him up. He took it, squeezing it once as she led him out of the library, work all but forgotten, and upstairs to their bedroom.
She pushed down his shoulders to get him to sit on the bed, and began riffling through his dresser. "Jean? What are you doing? I-" His words were cut off when she tossed something at him. He caught it, and felt himself blushing again when he saw what it was. "Jean I- I don't need to... do that. The danger room session is in an hour, and I can't be all..."
"Baby mode?" Jean offered, laughing when Scot's expression soured. She softened when she noticed the genuine upset on his face and sighed. "You don't have to regress-" He cringed at the word, avoiding looking at her- "To have a cuddle with a stuffed animal, or to wear comfortable clothes, or to let me take care of you."
Scott bit his lip, he knew she was right- he didn't have to regress to do any of those things, but he feared that he might regress anyway. He squeezed the stuffed animal- a goat, unnamed- and Jean continued to go through his dresser. She handed him an outfit, which he quickly got changed into, while she picked out something to wear for herself.
He picked the goat back up after he was dressed, squeezing it to his chest and picking at its soft fur. He waited for Jean to finish changing before he got into bed, laying stiffly until she laid next to him, and started combing through his hair with her nails again. Scott sighed and pressed himself closer to her, feeling far more relaxed than he had all day.
His mind was pleasantly fuzzy, thoughts few and far between as he let himself float. He could go back down to Earth if he wanted too, probably, but this felt really nice, so why couldn't he enjoy it for a little while? He shut his eyes, all of his senses satisfied for once. Not overstimulated, not underestimated, just right.
"Scott sweetheart," Jean was saying, and Scott was being shaken awake. He dragged in a sharp breath, tears hot on his face, and memories of the nightmare already fading. "Shh, it's okay," Jean soothed, pulling him into her lap and rocking them both back and forth. Scott whimpered, clinging to her shirt tightly. "Oh baby," He heard her murmur, and Scott was suddenly brutally aware of the fact that his pants were sticking to his skin uncomfortably, cold and wet and itchy, and it flooded every inch of his mind.
He pushed away from Jean, scrambling out of her lap. He didn't want to get her wet and gross too. "S-Sorry-ee," He choked out, somewhere where he wasn't little but wasn't big either. Jean reached out towards him but he flinched back and she retracted her hand.
"It's okay Scott, accidents happen. I'm not angry at you, or upset." Jean tells him softly, reaching out again after a few moments. He takes her hand and shuffles back towards her, more embarrassed than scared at this point. He's not regressed anymore, at the very least, though he half wishes he were, because he would be far less embarrassed than he is right now.
"I'm going to go shower," he mumbles, wiping away his tears and looking up at Jean. She sighed and cupped his face, thumbs swiping away the tears still falling down his cheeks. It was a bit scary, how fast Jean could have him feeling small again, but it was only for a brief moment before she relinquished her hold with a small smile.
"You go right ahead," She tells him, kissing his forehead and climbing out of bed herself. Locking the bathroom door behind him feels like the nail in the coffin, in an odd sense, because it meant he was back to Scott Summers, leader of the X-Men, and no longer just Scott, Jean's husband.
He showers quickly, because the faster he's out of the shower, the quicker he can forget the fact that he's wet the bed again. He wraps the towel around his waist once he's dried off, and exits the bathroom to find an outfit to wear. Jean has cleaned up all evidence of the mess, which he quietly thanks her for as he changes into his regular house clothes. He puts his dirty outfit into the laundry basket, which will have to get done ASAP, and when he turns back towards Jean, she's offering him his favourite sweater. He accepts it, even though it does not go with his current outfit at all. The sweater was one he had swiped from Logan, and he wondered if she knew that. She must, because Scott refused to buy clothes that didn't perfectly fit him, and the sweater did anything but.
He didn't make a habit out of stealing other peoples clothes, not really, but he swears that Logan has a secondary mutation that let's him wear in clothes to just the perfect amount of comfortable, and stay there. It's a standard sweater, one of the ones Charles had commissioned for the team with the X-Men symbol in the corner. Scott has one too, and he hardly ever wears it because he doesn't find it all that comfortable, but Logan's... Logan's is perfect.
"We should go have something light to eat before the session." Jean says, and Scott nods along, following after her as they head downstairs. He's still embarrassed, but this is far from the first time that exact scenario has happened, and Jean was patient and kind as always. He was mentally exhausted by it, but there was still time before the session to take a break and try to collect himself in order to be the best leader possible.
Clearly, the rest of the team had the same idea, because the kitchen was nearly at capacity with everyone wedged in there. Scott immediately felt overwhelmed, but Jean grabbed his hand and squeezed, which made him breath a little easier. Gambit had made... something. He said the name but Scott could hardly hear him over the noise of the kitchen. He just took the plate Jean gave him and took his escape, into the dining room.
He did not understand everyone's obsession with eating in the kitchen, when they had a perfectly functioning dining room, but today he appreciated it. Logan was in the dining room too, and Scott blinked at him. He was not entirely surprised, Logan had sensitive hearing and that kitchen was a cacophony of sounds.
"Lo-"
"It was you!" Logan shouted after looking up at Scott as he greeted him. Scott reeled back, flinching at the sudden increase in volume level. Logan stood up and took a few steps towards him, and Scott- Scott did something that he immediately regretted, and stumbled backwards, heart pounding. He regretted it because Logan looked heartbroken for a moment before it was replaced with something more complex that Scott did not currently have the mental capacity to decipher.
"You really scared of me, Slim? Still think I'll betray ya at any second?" Logan snarls, but Scott can tell he's hurt. Betrayed, even.
"No." Scott answered firmly, because it's the truth. Logan gives him an incredulous look, scenting the air. He looks surprised, and less hurt, which is a start. "I had a nightmare, earlier. Memories. When you," Scott gestured towards where Logan's chair is now capsized on the floor. "Just reminded me of it for a moment. I'm sorry. I believe that you are a valued member of this team-"
"All right that's enough," Logan huffs, returning to his char- which he rights- and sitting back down. Scott is flooded with relief, and takes a chair not right next to Logan, but not as far as he usually would have been. Had he really just confessed about having a nightmare too Wolverine? What was wrong with him? But it had worked. Logan was being surprisingly kind in not mentioning Scott's disjointed explanation. Perhaps they were both off their game today.
He started eating. Pick up, bite, set down, chew, swallow, repeat. He ate in small bites, which might have been a mistake, because by the time he's halfway through the food he's exhausted. Eating most foods is tiring, and it doesn't help that he's far too aware of the textures in his mouth, the way it grazes his throat as he swallows, the knowledge that his mouth is wet with saliva-
Scott gags on his next bite and sets it down, breathing deeply for a moment.
"Don't you dare get vomit on my sweater," Logan grumbles at him, but Scott can hear the concern in his voice.
"You're so sweet," Scott manages to force out, swallowing back the saliva that's filled his mouth. It takes him a moment to really understand what Logan has said, and he cheeks instantly grow pink. He had not even considered that Logan would see Scott in his sweater and- well, recognize it as his sweater. "And I've had it for months, it's mine now."
"I thought I was losing it. Or that one of the actual children had taken it. But now I know it was you Slim, and you owe me for it." Scott decides not to mention the other various pieces of Logan's clothes he's stolen. He returned all of them, washed and in perfect condition, apart from the sweater which he just could not bear to part with. "Charles was passive aggressive with me for weeks when I told him I'd lost it."
Scott rolls his eyes and nods, "Sure Logan." He replies, "How ever could I make it up to you?" He asks sarcastically, pushing away his plate because he thinks if he took another bite he might lose all the progress he made getting the first half down.
"I have a few ideas," Logan grunts, and then- honest to god- winks at Scott. He sputters, jaw drops and face turning a vibrant red as Logan laughs and pushes his chair away from the table. "See you in the danger room, Slim." He whispers as he walks past. Scott shivers, and once Logan is gone, holds his face in his hands and groans. Will he ever learn to just tell Jean she's right as soon as she says something? Instead of putting up a protest for months- years- and then having to tell her she's right and know she'll be smug about it.
Scott sighs. Despite it having been an emotionally intense past hour, he is glad Jean convinced him to take a break. He certainly feels better than he would have after doing paper work, even if the first attempt of relaxation had ended poorly, Jean's suggestion to get food had ended fixing Scott right up.
#diap stuff#star writes#agere#age regression#fandom agere#sfw agere#Scott summers agere#Scott summers#cyclops agere#cyclops#jean grey#logan howlett#wolverine#x men agere#x men#scogan#jott#scogean
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I can't do much productively during the heat wave/health issue flare up/etc. like work on my games or anything where I have to sit at the computer/type for long periods of time, BUT.. I did passively sculpt a few tiny foods lol. I wanted to do one of my bigger usual sculptures, but those take so much more time and concentration, I thought something small just to keep my hands busy would be better.. close up photos look kind of weird and blurry from my camera settings or something, but overall they came out okay, especially in person.. Nearly the only reason I ever wanted to buy dolls as a kid was to get my hands on the miniature foods and plates and stuff that came with them, I've always just been obsessed with small versions of things like that, so.. why not make some! lol
#sculpture#ooops.. i could have posted this on the art blog but I forgor and do not feel like reuploading everything#into a new drafted post on a whole other blog.. not in this heat.. i have no patience lol#items are: tomato. asparagus. a four leaf clover (not food lol). some sort of folded bun or dumpling with meat inside (not based on#anything specific. I just wanted to fold a flat sheet of clay into a shape). pomegranate. cheese wheel. lemon slice. some sort of mushroom.#fish (not a real one. just made up. if it looks like any specific fish that'd be interesting). and fig.#I haven't been able to get many avocaodo pits to carve again. so sculpting. then is good for a tiny craft#WISH I COULD DO COSTUMES OR SOMETHING.. i have some pikced out. bundles of clothes laying on the floor of the closet#but GODS even before the heat wave it's just been so warm.. I know.. it's the summer. of course it's warm#but WHYYYyy............. what if it just snowed all year around and was awesome and beautiful and i was so cold and could wear 25 blankets#at all times.. what about THAT hmm?? .. the ideal..#anyway.. my favorite is the pomegranate and the mushroom maybe#The fig is hard because in the pictures of figs I googled a lot of them have that sort of white powdery type of thing on the outside#that grapes and plums and stuff have sometimes and it's hard to convey that weird like.. sheen.. plus the purple with almost powdery blue#and little lighter specks plus streaks of light green and a little orangey on some of them.#It's okay in person I think but this doesnt show up as much in pictures. The cheese also looks betterin person than images. you can't tell#the slight shine in the pictures lol. but the pomegranates look cool and also photograph decent.. hmm#I should have made toast with an egg on it or something. that would be a nice addition#OH ALSO ASPARAGUS MY BELOVED.. though they look a little wonky. the cuticle pusher tool that I sculpt with in leiu of any actual sculpting#tools has a kind of triangle edge that was suite for the little leaf details of the asparagus so that was cool. its like..ALMOST right lol
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oksies hi starting a new thread of get to know you
haii I'm moth and also thea you may call me any nickname as well <3
I love musicals so so much (niche and popular!! basic-shaming is lame)
I am superhero obsessed (augh pied piper)
doctor who is my autism (yay river sonf!!!!)
good omens heoughhhhhhhh
super excited to meet you <3333333
Hi moth!! You can call me tetra. Don't worry that's not my real name or anything tho. I took it from the concept of tetrachords in music.
If we're generous about what we call superheroes, then maybe most of the things I like are superhero based. I mean obviously there's marvel and dc, but then there's stuff like dpxdc, sonic the hedgehog (idk if I've ever heard him called a superhero but he kinda is), if we count magical girls then like. Sailor moon and madoka magica
I haven't seen any episodes of good omens, but I read a really good fanfic of Crowley going to therapy a while back, and a couple funny ones with like yelp reviews of Aziraphale's bookstore. Plus I love the good omens analysis posts on here. I feel like maybe I half know some of what's happened in the show but also probably haven't scratched the surface. I'm kinda bad at watching TV shows, so there's a lot of stuff that I know from fandom but haven't seen. For another example of that, I've only watched one or two episodes of Sonic Prime. I reblog posts for it and it sounds good but idk. Just bad at it.
I'm a much more casual fan of musicals, I think for the same thing as above where I just struggle to sit and watch something on purpose. But I listen to the music from them sometimes, I've read transcripts online of a couple, and i swoon whenever I see a post analyzing the meaning of a musical song, especially when they go beyond lyrics and start going into the music theory in the tune. I don't have the skills or knowledge to do that myself but I love it so much
(when the singer changes their technique to enhance the meaning,, when this or that chord is a step outside the key to symbolize change or isolation or anything,,, using instruments as symbols for this or that character,,, tbh it doesn't have to be a musical even shout out to that youtube video by Scruffy on how fnaf's audio and sound effects make it scarier)
Lately I've been bouncing back and forth between Sonic and DPxDC. With hints of Slay The Princess in there bc I saw part of a playthrough of that awhile ago and loved the concept. I reblog madoka magica stuff whenever I see it (except magia record bc I know next to nothing about it) because that stuff makes me lose my mind. The love the pain the hope the despair!! Homura is probably like my ultimate blorbo but I love all the five girls they're so cool. I actually read the manga instead of watching the show though so I'm not as familiar with all the music. Plus I think the show had some extra scenes. Although it's a little confusing bc I think some of the extra scenes I see are magia record so idk.
Also I'm a fan of arts and crafts and will reblog that kind of thing once in a while, along with cute cat stuff.
Super excited to meet you too!
#sorry about the late response. got nervous and then put it off for awhile#hopefully it's a good one though?#it's unedited bc if i think stop and think harder/worry more now i'll never escape the think stage and i will post nothing#and i don't wanna do that#if there's anything you wanna know just ask#actually maybe i should think of some questions for you#oh like who's pied piper? i haven't heard of a superhero with that name just the child-stealing legend#unless you consider that guy a hero which like. i guess you could interpret it like that? teaching the value of not exploiting your workers#and i've read at least one story based on the legend where he takes the children somewhere nice#i feel like stealing children is not the ideal solution to that issue but it is a bit iconic if you think about it right#maybe he couldve taken some crops instead tho like thats the village income. it'd be more similar to money than kids.#i mean i guess in those days kids were also workers. and somewhat exploited generally.#so i guess i could see it as the guy getting exploited and then grabbing all the other exploited workers in town#i'm not really a history buff am i off base with this theory completely#i know kids used to have to work to help their families and that there are child labor laws for a reason#but also. not like there was a ton of free entertainment in the olden times.#i mean the parents almost definitely didnt pay kids money but chores aren't exploitation#maybe i should leave this up to interpretation#or just say it depends on situation and some kids probably were exploited while others weren't#hmm. this whole thing is probably just bs. i don't know what i'm talking about#oh well i hope you didn't mind it
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#so I have officially been to a club/bar now#tag talk#it was a country bar which was actually cool cause they played like. actual old country none of the post-9/11 shit#except everything else about it was ugh awful. music too loud drinks FUCKING EXPENSIVE holy shit stay home and drink instead pleaseeee#it was a work thing but none of my coworkers I'm friends with actually knew what they were doing so while I wasn't actual awkward they were#and the thing about social interaction is that if no one knows what they're doing it's not very fun#I grabbed someone and started a pool game because the table was open and both of us were absolute garbage at the game#but I was laughing about it and they were like... apologetic about being bad?? d#I did have the classic experience though where your friends disappear and you end up alone because you don't know where they went#all in all an interesting experience but not one I'm eager to repeat.#I did get invited to someone's Christmas Eve Party though which is cool and they gave me their number to make sure I have the info#so probably worth going just for that I think. got their phone number so we can communicate so that's like. successful social connection.#we're already friendly at work but easier to talk to someone when you're both not busy on the opposite side of the store with customers#anyway. who tf out going to clubs. awful environment.#I was like.. twenty percent of the way to being comfortable going out and dancing but hard to just swallow your hesitation#and a) alcohol as liquid courage is hmm not ideal and b) it was expensive anyway#oh well. it'll take more time to come out of my shell and I'd literally never been to a bar/club before in my life.#so I'll have some patience with myself and not be annoyed with how I could have done better or been more confident.#literally totally new environment. also... country music was nice but not a group of people I could really be comfortable around yaknow?#Lotta old white straight couples dancing the country two-step so I didn't really feel like I fit in.#anyway. interesting experience. neat to have. if I ever have a reason to go to a bar again I'll know more about what to expect#also... no one carded me. no one asked for ID? aren't they supposed to#oh wait. comment about the yodeling cause it was actual old country but they didn't do the voice register changes for it#I was like WAIT ARE THEY GONNA YODEL FOR REAL??? but then he didn't he just jumped intervals without shifting voice.#was a little disappointing but maybe a lot to expect from a random stage show at a bar.#wait wait I'm also proud of myself because the bartender asked open or closed and my mind scrambled for half a second to figure it out#but then I realized it meant open tab or closed tab like ordering more drinks and then paying at the end and so obviously closed#cause I ain't buying more than the one drink holy fuck it was so expensive also they mix them way stronger than I like#I like my drink weak ass and pathetic. alcohol is like spice I like a little to taste but not a lot. complimentary not overpowering#I drank it and then remembered I never ate lunch so I was like fuck and immediately went and ate something (work party so free food)
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the black female experience is so crazy like. we’re supposed to be perfect all the time except when we’re unjustly vilified then we’re evil and we suffered through microaggressions from literally everyone since birth to the day we die like nobody got our back except us
#idk i just been thinking a lot#like what my idealized life is vs what it actually is#and i have to be cautious of the fact that i am a black woman literally everywhere i go#ive stopped apologizing for the things i do and the things i like a long time ago#but there’s always that nagging feeling in the back of my head that somebody put in there since i was a child#and the fact that i have alopecia and got made fun of for having it in elementary school#now im 80% bald and its like hmm. do i love myself this way?? should i love myself this way??#i think about what jada pinkett smith went through last year and i get mad all over again
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Doctor's Orders | [Wriothesley x Reader]
Summary: “Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.” In which a simple tea time turns heated, and you get caught up in the consequence of Wriothesley not listening to his doctor. Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Aphrodisiacs, fem!reader Word Count: 7.9k
Sigewinne is evil.
You would have never suspected that such a tiny, cute body could contain so much malevolence. (Although, Sigewinne would personally argue that you’re confused, and that the word you’re looking for is actually benevolence. But, you digress.)
It all starts a few weeks into your employment at the Fortress of Meropide.
You’d spotted a job listing for a “personal assistant” in passing one day, and had immediately become interested thanks to the very generous salary listed on the paper. Seeing the job was located in Fontaine’s unofficial prison had, of course, caused you to have some second thoughts about applying, but at the end of the day, money is money.
Which is how you’d found yourself down on the ocean floor, waiting with a few other candidates outside the Duke’s office.
You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t nervous—waiting there to meet the head honcho of the prison. That when he stepped out to call you inside for your interview—all tall and beefy and scarred—your heart didn’t nervously flutter inside your chest.
…but to your surprise, he’s actually much softer than he appears.
“So,” he says, sitting down across from you at his desk. He folds his arms and smiles at you. “Why should I hire you? ”
Having been through this process before, you had immediately rattled off your qualifications and experiences. A few of which Wriothesley had proceeded to comment on and inquire about further. But it wasn’t until he asked—
“What benefit will I receive from picking you specifically?”
And you’d responded with—
“Errand girl.”
“What?”
“I can run errands for you. I’m sure the guards can be slow, going back and forth. But if you’re my direct employer, I can do whatever you want. Drop documents off, check in on things…pick up more tea.”
—that Wriothesley finally makes up his mind.
“Hmm. Very convincing.”
The next day, you receive a letter with the terms of your employment, and your official start date.
So, since then, you’ve been working for Wriothesley. Which is actually kind of…nice.
Your job mostly consists of going back and forth between the prison and the surface, so that Wriothesley can stay in the Fortress and better monitor his domain. The autonomy the job grants you is very rewarding, and in the same breath, Wriothesley also feels rewarded by how you take care of things without him needing to ask more than once.
Safe to say, the two of you get along.
…which Sigewinne notices.
You, of course, meet Sigewinne on your first day. Wriothesley makes a point of introducing you and showing you where the nurse’s office is located, in case you get hurt, or need to drop something off.
The human-like melusine enthusiastically welcomes you, and, at first, you see her as…someone sweet, and caring. A treasure of the prison.
However, over time, your opinion of her slowly starts to change.
Because she keeps looking at you. Specifically, whenever you’re standing next to Wriothesley.
“Why is she doing that?” you ask him one day, nudging him gently with your elbow. He immediately looks up from his meal, over to where Sigewinne is waiting in the lunch line, her pink eyes boring into you.
“She’s probably just double checking that you’re healthy,” Wriothesley responds, paying her no mind. “I often catch her staring at me, too. You must be growing on her.”
Despite his reassuring words, you can’t help but feel a little…put off…by the look in her eyes. Like she’s plotting something.
The second weird thing you notice is when you walk into the infirmary to drop off some herbs she’d asked for, and find her drawing. At first, you assume she’s doodling, since she seems kid-like a lot of the time.
But instead, when you lean over her shoulder and look, you see that she’s writing words. A big, black “DO NOT DISTURB”...with pink hearts and a few flowers drawn around it.
“What’s that for?” you ask her, forcing a smile.
“Oh! It’s just for a project I’m working on,” she responds, swiveling in her chair to face you. She happily kicks her feet, her eyes darting to the herbs you’re carrying with you.
“Ah, are those what I asked for? Thank you!”
You hand her the small bundle of dried flowers and grasses, watching as she immediately turns and places them on her desk next to some string, and cheesecloth.
“You’re welcome,” you respond, taking a small step backwards. “If that’s all, I’ll keep working on the rest of the tasks on my list—”
“Wait,” she says, grabbing your wrist. You instantly freeze, your eyes going wide as you turn back to face her. There’s a serious look on her face.
“How do you feel about Wriothesley?”
Her question makes your heart skip—heat rising on your skin.
“What?”
She doesn’t bother elaborating or giving you context, just waits for you to respond. You cough a little, feeling awkward, and wondering what kind of answer she’s looking for.
“Well…I mean. I think he’s a good boss. He’s friendly, and devoted to his job. He runs the prison well.”
Sigewinne nods, but doesn’t comment. Just keeps…staring.
Feeling pressured, you force yourself to think of more to say.
“Um…he’s deserving of his title and the respect he garners. I…enjoy speaking with him? Like when he invites me to partake in tea breaks. I dunno…he just kinda reminds me of a big, fluffy puppy. He looks scary but he’s actually pretty…cute, y’know?”
Finally, Sigewinne smiles. She takes your hand in her tiny ones, giving it a squeeze.
“Thank you for answering my question. You can go now.”
You blink at her dumbly, but nonetheless excuse yourself from the room.
Two days later, Wriothesley invites you to his office for tea. And to your surprise, when you walk in, you find Sigewinne waiting there as well.
“Thank you for coming!” she says as you enter the room. You flash her a smile, taking a seat in one of the open chairs around the table.
“Of course!”
“Sigewinne has a tea she wants us both to try,” Wriothesley explains, a fond look in his eyes as he watches the resident nurse flit around—pouring hot water into the teacups that have been set out.
You nod.
“I see.”
“Although, I don’t know why you won’t just steep the tea in the pot,” Wriothesley complains to her, just as Sigewinne places individual tea bags in each cup. “Are we not all being served the same tea?”
She cutely huffs.
“For your information, no we are not. Your and Y/N’s tea is unique.”
“Oh?” Wriothesley leans forward to look into the teacups as the colors from the herbs begin to bleed into the water. “What’s so unique about it?”
“You’ll see,” she responds with a playful look, one that causes Wriothesley to amusedly raise his eyebrows. However, he doesn’t say anything more—simply waiting for the tea to appropriately steep.
“...are you using the herbs I brought you?”
You can’t help but notice the smell wafting from the cup in front of you is a little familiar. Sigewinne nods.
“Wow! I’m surprised you noticed.”
“Ah, so this must be the reason you wanted me to lend you Y/N for a task the other day,” Wriothesley chimes in, his icy blue eyes once again shifting to Sigewinne.
“Do I get to know what herbs you requested Y/N to bring you, exactly?”
The resident nurse shakes her head, quietly laughing when Wriothesley sighs and deflates back into his chair.
“It’s meant to be a surprise! I want to see what you think about the taste without knowing the ingredients.”
“I suppose that’s fair.”
Folding your hands on your lap, the office descends into silence for a brief moment, the three of you intently watching the teacups in front of you. Then, Sigewinne finally claps her hands and declares—
“Okay, they’ve steeped long enough. Go ahead!”
“Finally,” Wriothesley happily mumbles, reaching forward to pick up the pristine little plate on which his cup of tea resides. He brings the cup to his nose, inhaling deeply, and then takes a tentative sip.
“Hmm…”
He frowns, his brows pinching as he tries to discern the flavors he’s tasting.
Curiosity getting the better of you, you take a sip from your own cup—wincing as the hot liquid accidentally burns your tongue.
“So?” Sigewinne prompts, staring excitedly between the two of you.
“It’s…pleasant,” you respond, clearly not as big of a tea connoisseur as the Duke. “It has a hint of sweetness.”
“It tastes like a Rainbow Rose smells,” Wriothesley adds, taking another sip. His gaze slides to you. “Did you pick some for her?”
You shake your head.
“No, I didn’t. Or…at least I didn’t pick any fresh ones. I did go to a vendor and purchase something in a bottle that looked like crushed, pink dust.”
Sigewinne cutely laughs.
“As expected of you, Your Grace. Yes, one of the ingredients is dried Rainbow Rose petals. Do you like it?”
Wriothesley makes a pleased sound.
“I do. The taste is light, but pleasant—like Y/N said.”
“Good! I want both of you to drink up.”
Sigewinne finally picks up her own tea, and you can’t help but notice the difference in color when compared to yours and Wriothesley’s. She really is drinking something different…but why?
“Aye aye, captain,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne laugh. You smile at the cute interaction between them, and have some more of your tea as well.
Together, the three of you engage in friendly conversation—catching up about recent topics while indulging in tea and a few different snacks that Wriothesley had pulled out for the occasion. As you drink, you can’t help but notice you feel…warm. A heat that spreads out from your stomach, and slowly creeps into your limbs.
You’ve never felt this way before but…maybe the tea is just extra hot today?
You glance up to Wriothesley and notice that he’s a little flushed as well. Which is…reassuring? You think. Since you’re obviously not the only one affected.
“Oh! Y/N!”
Sigewinne’s sudden call of your name draws you from your thoughts, and you look over at her. She smiles.
“I forgot to ask, but are you dating anyone?”
“Sigewinne,” Wriothesley gently scolds. He leans forward and sets his teacup on the table, the cup now empty.
His tone practically says “It’s not appropriate to ask questions like that” without actually saying it. Sigewinne pouts.
“Aww, c’mon. We’re all friends here! I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
Hearing that the melusine considers you to be a friend, you decide to grace her with an answer—ignoring the tingling of the taste buds on your tongue.
“No, I am not seeing anyone,” you inform her with a polite smile. Sigewinne nods happily at your answer, which makes your smile waver.
Is she happy you’re single?? Ouch.
“Okay, good,” she says. “I’d feel a little bad, otherwise.”
You blink in confusion at her words, watching her as she pops off her chair and heads towards the door. Wriothesley raises an eyebrow at her.
There’s sweat beading on his brow.
“Where are you going?”
“Away,” she responds. “To give you two some privacy.”
You and Wriothesley glance at each other, mirroring each other’s confusion.
Your tummy starts to ache.
“Why are you leaving us alone, exactly?”
Stopping just in front of the office doors, Sigewinne turns on her heel to face the two of you. There’s a smug grin on her face.
“This is what happens when you don’t follow doctor’s orders.”
You frown, raising a hand to your chest, wondering why your heart is suddenly racing.
What’s this about doctor’s orders?
You glance over at Wriothesley…only to see that he’s frozen in shock—his eyes wide with realization.
His pants feel too tight.
“Sigewinne, you did not—”
There’s an edge to his voice when he speaks, his eyes narrowing. He plants his feet on the floor and prepares to stand and confront her, but before he can blink, Sigewinne has drawn her pistol—a tranquilizing bullet hitting him square in the chest, where a little patch of skin is showing.
He makes a noise of surprise, and quickly flops back into his chair to avoid falling on the floor—his limbs immediately going numb.
“Sigewinne!” you gasp. You’re not sure what’s going on, but the fact that she’d just shot Wriothesley is…
“It’s okay,” she says with a little sigh. “The effect will wear off in a few minutes. And…I’m sorry I scared you. Let me explain…”
She holsters her gun and smiles at you, trying to calm you down.
“As the nurse of the Fortress of Meropide, it is my duty to look after all residents, including Your Grace. And over the last few months, I’ve noticed him becoming more… irritable.”
“Sigewinne…,” Wriothesley mumbles, but the girl waves him off.
“After observing him for a while, I realized that his stress levels were getting high. And as his doctor, I recommended him a way to manage his stress, but he refused. He insisted tea was enough to soothe his nerves, but that’s simply not true. So…when you started working here, and I saw how well the two of you were getting along, I…got an idea.”
Sigewinne glances over at Wriothesley, noticing how he’s begun to shift his boots against the floor.
Her tranquilizers won’t be in effect much longer. They never work as well on people Wriothesley’s size…
So, she decides to cut to the chase.
Reaching into her pocket, Sigewinne pulls out the DO NOT DISTURB sign you’d seen her making the other day. She holds it in front of her, and beams at you.
“Simply put, the Duke needs to have sexual intercourse to relieve his tension. After watching the two of you and seeing you interact on both physical and intellectual levels, I determined that you would be ideal partners for each other. So, I invited the both of you to partake in an aphrodisiac made from the herbs you gathered for me.”
“You…you drugged us?” you gape, completely thrown by everything she’s just told you. She immediately gets defensive, her cheeks puffing.
“I medicated you,” she corrects. “And in the end, I’m only acting as a doctor. This all could have been avoided if Your Grace had just taken care of his own needs, as I’d insisted. Since he didn’t, I could only logically assume it's because it’s his preference to have a partner, rather than going at it solo. So, if you want to blame anyone for this, please blame him.”
“Sigewinne—”
Gripping the arms of his chair, Wriothesley breathes out a heavy sigh and begins to push himself up. You can’t help but notice his face is much redder now, and you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment, the effects of the drugs, or both.
Seeing that Wriothesley has nearly regained his strength, Sigewinne hurries to exit his office.
“Anyway! The effects of the tea should wear off in a few hours, but only if you relieve yourselves. Otherwise, it will last much longer. So I suggest you let loose and indulge yourselves. You like each other! Enjoy this time!”
Wriothesley opens his mouth to say something, but his words catch in his throat the second Sigewinne opens his office door. He doesn’t want anyone outside of his office walls to hear him or know what’s going on.
“I’ll hang this sign on the door,” Sigewinne continues, her voice hushing. “So no one comes in while you two are…busy. Just remove it once you’re done, okay? Have fun!”
With a supportive little fist pump, Sigewinne then closes the door, leaving you and Wriothesley alone.
A few long beats of silence pass, then Wriothesley finally sighs.
"I…apologize for this. I never meant for you to get roped in."
You turn to look at him, only to find that he's standing with his back to you, his hand raising to rub at the back of his head.
You can see his muscles flexing as he does so, and you hate to admit that it causes the heat inside you to grow.
"It's…not your fault," you respond, laughing a little awkwardly. "I doubt it's easy to follow directions when your doctor tells you to jack off to rectify your hardass-ness."
Wriothesley glances at you over his shoulder.
"Have I been acting like a hardass?"
"You've been a little snippy at times," you tell him, smoothing your sweaty palms down your legs. Seriously, your clothes are starting to make you feel claustrophobic…
"Not to me, specifically. But I've noticed it towards some of the prison residents."
"Shit," he sighs, rubbing his temples. You continue to watch him, your eyes wandering the expanse of his back. For a second, you don't understand why he won't face you. Then it clicks.
"...are you…hard? Is that why you're not turning around?"
"It's…pretty bad," Wriothesley admits, his shoulder sagging in defeat. "I don't know what all was in that tea but…as an aphrodisiac, it's doing its job."
"Yeah…," you agree, swallowing heavily. You can feel wet arousal pooling on the fabric of your panties. His office has also started to feel like a sauna, but you're not sure if it's the air that's hot, or your body.
However, you're still not willing to breach the topic of "relief" with him. You haven't reached that level of desperation…yet .
So, you think of something else to carry the conversation in the meantime.
"So…Sigewinne said you like me?"
"Ah, you caught that."
He laughs a little, and begins pacing around the room, still careful to keep his back to you. You can't help but notice his stride is a little…impeded.
"If I'm being frank—yes, I do. You've been…a pleasure to have around, since I hired you. Actually, one of the reasons I picked you in the first place was because of how you acted during your interview. Most people are scared of me and therefore talk cautiously. You're certainly respectful, of course, but…you're a bit playful, as well. And I found that quality to be attractive."
"Ah, so I charmed you," you respond playfully. "Remind me to add that point to my resume later. "Managed to woo the Lord of the Fortress of Meropide". That sounds pretty good—"
"And there you go again," Wriothesley laughs. He steps behind the chair he'd been sitting in previously, and then finally turns to face you—the back of the chair tall enough that his lower half is out of sight.
"Although, if I recall her words correctly, Sigewinne stated that we "like each other". So, is there something you'd like to say as well?"
Your eyes go wide, and you feel more blood rush into your head. Wriothesley smiles, wide enough to show teeth.
"C’mon now. It's not fair that I praise you and get nothing in return."
You pout.
"To be fair, I didn't know why Sigewinne suddenly asked me what I thought of you…"
"That’s understandable, but still. I'd like to know what you told her."
Wriothesley maintains his playful demeanor, despite the way his knuckles begin to turn white at his sides—a deep-seated need slowly sinking its claws into him.
You sigh.
"I just…told her that you're a good boss, and are deserving of your titles and the respect you garner…"
You trail off, suddenly remembering the last thing you'd told Sigewinne during that conversation. Wriothesley clearly notices there's something you're leaving out, one of his eyebrows raising.
"And?"
You take a deep breath.
"That you're a cute puppy."
He blinks in shock.
"...excuse me?"
Oh god, you wanna phase through the floor.
"I said that even though you look scary, you're really just like a big…cute…puppy."
For a moment, Wriothesley can only stare at you. Then, he throws his head back and laughs.
Embarrassed, you plant your palms on your thighs and push to your feet, instinctively wanting to run away…only to realize that your legs have gone weak.
With a distraught noise, you flop back into your chair.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wriothesley notices.
He coughs, pulling himself back together.
"Well, I've certainly never heard myself described in such a way before. I can't say I totally hate it, but I'm not sure if I agree with the term "puppy"."
You force an awkward laugh, finally losing steam as the arousal inside you begins to cloud your thoughts. Sigewinne obviously wasn't messing around when making her aphrodisiac…you've never felt so horny before that it has literally hindered your mental and physical faculties.
The office is silent for a few tense moments, but finally, Wriothesley heaves a heavy sigh. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, his shoulders slumping as he hangs his head.
"You may revoke your good opinion of me, considering how inappropriate it is for a boss to even consider such a thing, but…I think my dick is gonna explode soon, so I'll just come out and ask."
You swallow, anticipating his next words.
"Would you be…interested in having sex?"
Your body shivers in excitement at the idea, the lustful part of your brain screaming at you to jump him already.
"I…would," you admit, managing to keep it together. Wriothesley's entire body jolts impatiently at your words, but he’s able to keep himself grounded.
"I don't think I'll be able to survive…this without some relief. And…I trust you. So…"
"So we're in agreement," Wrioslethely supplies, waiting for your confirmation. You nod your head.
"We are."
In the next beat, he's is crossing the space between you, a "thank god" barely making it past his lips before he crashes them into yours.
Immediately, you’re groaning into him—your arms wrapping around his neck and his hands finding the backs of your thighs. He lifts you from your chair easily—your chests pressing together as he holds you close.
You’ve always been acutely aware of how large Wriothesley is, but you don’t think it fully sinks in until now—as he manhandles you with ease, quite literally carrying you with one arm as the other sneaks beneath your shirt and tugs it over your head.
You’re forced to break the kiss as he does so, but the second the fabric has been discarded, you’re tangling your fingers in his hair and dragging him in for another.
Your action evokes a pleased little rumble inside his chest.
“You taste sweet,” he mumbles, his palm roaming over the exposed skin of your back. The warmth of his skin against yours makes you ache.
“It’s probably the aphrodisiac,” you reply breathlessly, a shiver raking your spine when you feel his fingers toy at the waistband of your pants.
“Hmm, shall we posit your theory?”
Before you can even think to ask what he means, the room is spinning—too many things happening at once. However, it’s nearly impossible to miss the feel of your pants being shucked down your legs.
When everything settles, you find that you’re no longer chest to chest with Wriothesley, but rather, face to dick.
“Wh—”
Your cheeks heat up as you finally digest the position he’s put you in—your ass in his face, and his crotch in yours—his body now firmly planted in a chair as he spreads his thighs and makes himself comfortable.
“Wriothesley!” you say in shock, your palms gripping his legs for support as you attempt to turn and face him. However, you quickly realize with the position he has chosen, you’re fairly helpless to do anything—completely at his mercy as he locks his arms around your legs and grips your ass in his hands.
“Hm?” he responds nonchalantly, one of his fingers slipping under the edge of your panties. You shift a little, trying to glare at him, but only succeed in having his clothed dick poke you in the cheek. He tenses at the sensation, and you feel his cock strain helplessly against the fabric of his pants—begging for more friction.
“I’m just testing your theory, like I said,” he continues, a surprised mewl tearing from your throat as he leans his head forward and nuzzles his nose in the damp fabric of your panties.
“If you think it’s the aphrodisiac making you sweet, let’s see if it’s also having that effect elsewhere—”
Before you can protest, Wriothesley is tugging the crotch of your underwear aside—his tongue licking a hot, languid strip between your folds. You gasp at the feeling, your nails digging into his thighs through the layer of clothes that he wears.
Above you, the Duke makes a pleased sound, repeating his previous action—noting the way your body writhes against his hold. His fingers grip your ass tighter, his brows furrowing as he presses his tongue inside your entrance—your arousal quickly coating his taste buds.
“Yep,” he mutters after a moment, his voice tight and his throat bobbing as he harshly swallows. “You taste…addicting.”
His words have your cunt squeezing around nothing, although he quickly dives back in and rectifies that problem—stretching your walls out around his tongue.
“Fuck…,” you pant, your head dropping as your strength wanes. Your muscles progressively start to feel like jelly, thanks to his ministrations. Especially, when he moves his mouth to your clit and begins rolling his tongue around it—a whine escaping you as the desire inside of you sears white hot.
And yet, despite the way Wriothesley presses on—groaning into your pussy as he eats you out—you’d be remiss to forget about the fact that he’s currently affected by the aphrodisiac as well, and has his own needs that need to be taken care of.
So, gathering what strength you have, you manage to push yourself up onto your forearms—your hands moving to the waistband of his pants. You frantically work open the button and zipper of his slacks, and then hook your fingers under the elastic of his underwear, tugging the band down.
…only to have his freed cock immediately spring up and smack you in the face.
Your eyes go wide, and in normal circumstances, you’d expect Wriothesley to laugh at the comedy of what has just occurred. However, too immersed in the way your cunt tastes and feels, and the way your body continues to twitch in his hold, he doesn’t even notice. And, too amazed by the sheer size of Wriothesley’s dick as you finally lean your head back and get a good look at him, you don’t bother saying anything.
No, instead you simply part your lips and take the head of his cock into your mouth—sucking lightly, your tongue teasing at his slit. The groan that’s immediately torn from his throat is involuntary—the sound becoming muffled by your pussy as he momentarily stops to savor the feeling of your mouth on his dick—your tongue flattening on the underside of his shaft as you slowly take more of him into your mouth.
Then, he goes back to eating you out with renewed fervor—your eyes nearly rolling back into your skull when he sucks at your clit.
The room quickly fills with the sound of sloppy and messy oral, your head bobbing up and down Wriothesley’s cock. Saliva drips down his length, his pre-cum smearing against your tongue, and you can’t help but moan.
Everything feels so good—from Wriothesley’s tongue on your cunt, to the way his cock fills up your mouth…
“Fuck,” Wriothesley growls. His fingers move to pull at the folds of your pussy, spreading you open wider. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he moves his mouth back to your clit, where he then stays—his tongue flicking rhythmically against the sensitive bundle of nerves.
The pace and motion he settles on is one that you know will very quickly damn you, and he figures this out as well based on the way your thighs begin to shake in his grasp. Your body attempts to jolt away from him—trying to escape the onslaught of pleasure he intends to give—but he leaves no wiggle room. He holds you tighter, enjoying the feeling of your mouth on his cock, and how your efforts slowly start to crumble along with your sanity.
“I…,” you mumble the word around dick, trying to warn him of the orgasm you can feel quickly approaching. Your entire body swims with arousal, your head feeling light.
“Keep going, sweetheart,” he pants. “Let’s cum together.”
You feel his cock throb against your tongue, and, dutifully, you do your best to continue sucking him off—your lips once again suctioning around his shaft. Your actions immediately evoke a pleased groan from the Duke, and you feel his thighs tense in your grasp—his own orgasm quickly approaching.
However, despite your best efforts to continue, everything falls apart the second your climax finally crests.
With a cry, you come undone—your body writhing in his hold. You go brainless almost immediately, the strength in your arms wavering, and Wriothesley’s cock stuffing into your cheek—your hot breath fanning over his length.
Luckily, the vulgarity of the entire situation is enough to push Wriothesley over the finish line—his dick painting the inside of your mouth with his cum. And to his surprise, once he’s spent, you actually pull your head back, close your lips, and swallow.
Shit, he thinks.
His dick is just starting to soften, and yet somehow, it’s also already getting hard again.
There’s a few beats of quiet that are filled only with the sound of you and Wriothesley panting. Then, once he’s caught his breath, he says—
“Let’s get you right side up.”
—and the world spins again.
Honestly, the fact that he can manhandle you this easily is criminal.
“You okay?” he asks, sitting you on one of his thighs. He brushes a few stray hairs from your face, staring at you with a hint of concern.
You nod your head, grateful that the carnal desire you’ve been afflicted with is clearly less, now that you and Wriothesley have both gotten off. But…even despite that, you still feel hot and tingly. Like you want more.
You glance down at his lap.
“Mmm. Seems like you’re in the same predicament as me.”
“Think you can handle another round?” he asks. You meet his eyes, playfully raising your eyebrows.
“I’m almost tempted to say no, and see what you do.”
Wriothesley rolls his eyes, his hands grabbing your waist, and in the next moment, you find yourself slung over his shoulder.
“Hey—!” you protest, attempting to look at him, but he only caresses your ass with his free hand.
“If you have that much spunk left in you, you can handle another round,” he says, carrying you down the nearby staircase, to the floor below his office. “But, I’ll be kind this time and make you more comfortable.”
His boots echo against the metal floor as he walks, and for a second, you wonder where exactly he’s taking you. But, soon after, Wriothesley pushes through a nearby door, and you find yourself in a moderately sized bedroom.
It must be his, you realize, feeling a little silly that you’d never pondered before now where the Master of the prison actually sleeps.
“Here we are.”
Wriothesley gently deposits you onto his bed, and then immediately reaches for his tie. You watch him with bated breath, your heart doing a tiny flip as you realize that he’s finally stripping out of his clothes. He opts to leave on the leather belts encircling his arms and neck, instead focusing the bulk of his time on shedding his suit, and undoing the many buckles on his boots.
By the time he’s finished—his erect cock once again sitting heavy between his legs—you’re practically drooling at the sight of him.
His lips twitch into a little smile.
“I’m happy to know that you like what you see. However, in the time I spent undressing myself, you couldn’t be bothered to remove what little clothing you have left? C’mon now, are you waiting for me to wrestle you out of them?”
Still feeling cheeky, you flash him a grin.
“Hm, I’d like to see you try.”
Wriothesley immediately cocks an eyebrow, his eyes glinting at the challenge you’ve just issued, and your attitude wavers, realizing what it is you’ve done. You open your mouth to say you’re only teasing—your hands already raising behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra—but it’s too late.
In one swift motion, Wriothesley grabs your ankle and twists you onto your stomach—his weight settling above you as he kneels onto the bed. You shiver when his knuckles brush against your skin—his fingers swiftly undoing your bra.
“You’re just a little brat, aren’t you…”
He speaks the words fondly, with a hint of amusement, and yet, they still go straight to your cunt.
“Don’t say things like that,” you respond, instinctively raising your hips when Wriothesley hooks his fingers on your underwear and begins tugging them down your thighs. He stares intently at your backside as he does so, an idea popping into his mind.
“Why? Because you like it too much?”
He discards your panties on the floor along with the rest of the clothes you’d both shed, and then grabs your knees, forcing you to spread your legs, so he can properly settle between them.
Another blush rises on your face at his words, your tongue feeling heavy in your mouth. At your lack of response, Wriothesely continues.
“In my understanding, brats tend to like it a little rougher, so…”
His hands ghost up your thighs, to your hips, and he grips you tightly—forcing your lower half off the bed until you’re propped up on your knees—his cock sitting heavy against your ass.
“...what say we continue like this, hm?”
Bracing yourself on your forearms, you turn your head back to look at him—your body tensing as you watch him fist his cock and drag it downward, between the lips of your pussy.
His icy eyes catch yours.
“Any objection?”
“...no,” you mumble, your fingers anticipatedly fisting in the sheets.
Wriothesley nods—
“Good.”
—and then presses the head of his cock inside you.
Immediately, you drop your forehead against the mattress—willing your body to relax for him as he slowly inches inside of you.
His tongue had certainly been enjoyable, but this? Fuck. Nothing compares to the sensation of him slowly stuffing you inch by inch—the girth of his cock positively delicious as he forces your cunt to stretch to accommodate him.
It’s so much that by the time he’s fully seated inside of you, your body is shaking—your breath coming out in quick, desperately little pants.
Seeing your reaction, Wriothesely soothes a hand up your spine, his warm palm settling between your shoulder blades. He decides to start slow—to give you a little more time to adjust to him.
And honestly, he’d love to take his time in general—to really savor the sight of you beneath him, your cunt swallowing his cock so perfectly, but alas. The effects of the aphrodisiac make him impatient with need, and it’s not long before he’s moving faster—little gasps and whines finding their way past your lips as he begins fucking you back onto his cock.
“Ahh…seriously you’re…so fucking tight,” he curses. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip—his jaw clenching, and his racing heart pumping lust through his veins.
Your cunt clamping on his dick seriously might be his personal slice of heaven.
“Wrio, I—,” you can’t even get the words out, your brain short-circuiting. You can’t think straight anymore—not with his cock rubbing you in all the right spots, making a mess of your insides, and quickly rocketing you towards another—
Wait, no, it’s only been a minute—!
“Fuck! ”
You choke the word out, your spine curving and your knuckles turning white as your second orgasm of the night is unexpectedly forced out of you—your pussy spasming around Wriothesley’s dick.
The last of your strength officially drained, you collapse forward onto the mattress, your cheek smushing into the covers.
…however, Wriothesley doesn’t allow your lower half to fall along with the rest of you—his hold on your hips keeping your twitching pussy firmly planted on his still-hard dick.
“We’re not done yet, sweetheart,” he reminds you, his cock continuing to languidly drag between your walls, drawing out the tail end of your pleasure.
You can’t help but whimper at his words, already feeling a bit oversensitive thanks to two consecutive orgasms. Wriothesley does his best to soothe your frayed nerves.
Leaning over you, he gently tangles his fist in your hair—coaxing your head off the mattress so he can kiss you.
The kiss is messy, but sweet—the angle of your bodies forcing his cock deeper inside of you, his hips completely flush against your ass.
“You’re doing so good,” he tells you, peppering a trail of kisses against your cheek, and across your jaw. His praise causes you to whimper, a shiver raking up your spine when his tongue drags across your skin—his teeth nipping at the nape of your neck.
His actions successfully get you to relax—your body becoming more pliable in his grasp as he once again begins to move. And soon enough, the wet sound of sex fills his bedroom once more.
Wanting to help him cum (and to feel his seed fill you), you do your best to help Wriothesley along—purposefully flexing the walls of your pussy as he fucks you. However, in doing so, you accidentally start yourself down the path of yet another orgasm…
Feeling the familiar, aching pleasure beginning to build inside of you once again, you quickly stop what you’re doing. You think that a third orgasm honestly might kill you, but…it’s too late.
Wriothesley has already noticed your growing arousal, and decides that he likes it better when the two of you cum together.
So, he sneaks one of his hands between the apex of your legs, and begins rubbing at your clit.
The garbled, desperate cry that leaves your mouth immediately becomes seared in his mind for a long time to come.
“No, Wrio, I…I can’t. I—”
Your words come out jumbled, tears beading on your lash line.
Momentarily removing his hand from your clit, he once again reaches forward and grips your hair—pulling your head back so he can kiss you. His lips swallow up your worries.
“You can,” he insists, his voice whispering in your ear, and his hot breath fanning over your skin.
“I want you to cum with me, pretty girl. You can do it.”
You give no protest aside from a cute little whine, and that's good enough for Wriothesley.
Releasing your hair, his hand finds your clit once more.
He then proceeds to fuck you into the mattress—pursuing his orgasm with abandon. A groan leaves his mouth at the way your pussy starts clamping on his dick once again—tightening up with each pass of his fingers across your clit—your pussy slick and messy with your own arousal.
Unable to think straight, you can only hold on for dear life—clinging to his sheets like a lifeline. You can’t even process the sounds that are coming out of your own mouth—a damned, desperate symphony moans.
To Wriothesley, it all sounds like a siren's cry—beckoning him closer to the edge.
“Shit,” he pants, feeling his cock throb, and his balls tighten. The motion of his fingers on your clit quickens—your toes curling as the coil of pleasure in your tummy continues to wind—so close to snapping.
Sweat beading on his brow, Wriothesley leans forward, curling his body against yours. His teeth nip at the shell of your ear, his husky voice sending goosebumps across your skin.
“So good for me…,” he breathes, his hips smacking into your ass. His broad strokes deteriorate into needy rutting, and the sensation has you quite literally sobbing—his cock now incessantly grinding into your g-spot.
You can’t take it anymore.
Shoving your face into the mattress, you bite the sheets and scream—your entire body shaking as you cum for a third time, your cunt milking around Wriothesley’s cock.
He curses at the feeling, his face burying in your neck. Wrapping his arms around you, he hugs you to his body—fucking inside of you a few more times before finally joining you in ecstasy.
His teeth sink into you as his orgasms peaks, a heady groan muffled against your skin as his balls empty—pumping you full of his cum.
It’s not until the intensity of his pleasure has died down that Wriothesley ultimately releases you from his hold—your lower half immediately flopping down onto the bed, and his softening cock slipping out of you.
The Duke takes a moment to simply look at you, and how fucked out you are. Your eyes bleary, skin flushed, and the imprint of his teeth engraved in your flesh.
He grunts at the sight, and settles in beside you—his arm curling around your waist as he tugs you back against him. His tongue immediately begins lapping at the bite mark he’d inflicted, attempting to soothe the sting.
After a few seconds, you begin shaking, and Wriothesley immediately pauses, scared that he’s hurt you in some way.
…only to realize that you’re laughing.
“...puppy…”
He props himself up, glancing at you.
“What?”
“You really are like a puppy,” you giggle, your finger lifting to brush a stray tear from your eye. “The way you bit me, and then immediately started licking at it in apology. So cute…”
You break into another tiny fit of laughter, and Wriothesley rolls his eyes, yet can’t help cracking a smile.
“Well, I’m glad to know I didn’t break you, at the very least.”
His hand rubs against your waist.
“...right?”
Finally getting ahold of yourself, you roll onto your back and smile at him, your hand reaching out to cup his cheek. He immediately leans into your touch, and it makes your heart flutter.
“I’m not broken, no. Just…sore. And gross. And sweaty.”
Wriothesley chuckles.
“Well, I think I can rectify some of those issues. I do have a bathroom, with a tub.”
“Wow,” you respond, watching him as he scoots to the edge of the mattress and gets to his feet. He waits a second for you to join him, but you don’t move.
“My…limbs feel like jello,” you admit, raising your arm and flopping it back down bonelessly for emphasis. Wriothesley rolls his eyes, but nonetheless leans over the bed and scoops you into his arms.
You rest your cheek against his chest, admiring for the first time how soft it really is.
“Whatever shall I do with you,” he playfully sighs, carrying you into the adjacent bathroom. He sets you on the vanity, moving over to the tub and turning on the tap for the hot water. You hum.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things you can do. The first of which is helping me into the bath once it’s ready.”
Wriothesley quietly chuckles. Returning to your side, he takes your hand, and brings it to his lips.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the tub has filled, the Duke keeps true to his word—once again carefully cradling you in his arms as he seats himself in the tub basin, before positioning you in the space between his legs.
The steaming water immediately soothes the ache of your body, and you sigh in relief—sinking back against Wriothesley’s body. He lightly wraps one arm around your waist, the other resting on the edge of the tub.
For a few long minutes, the two of you bask in silence, simply enjoying the refreshing feel of the bath.
…then, you start to notice something beginning to grow—pressing at your back.
“...really? Is the aphrodisiac still getting to you that much?”
“No,” he admits after a beat, leaning forward to kiss your neck. “I think this one is actually all me.”
You roll your eyes, but nonetheless crane your head to the side—allowing him access to more of your skin as his mouth begins to wander.
“I thought I made it clear that my limbs are jello right now.”
“I can work with that,” he responds, and you feel him grin. His hand slowly trails down your stomach, and between your legs.
“I’ll do all the work. You just get to make pretty sounds and feel good.”
His fingers slide between the folds of your pussy, and you jolt as he passes over your overly-sensitive clit. But seriously…how are you going to say no to him?
“What am I going to do with you?” you sigh, echoing his earlier words. His chest rumbles with laughter, and he grabs your chin with his free hand—turning your head so he can kiss you.
“Mmm, I can think of a few things.”
The next morning, you find yourself in a back in your clothes, standing beside Wriothesley just inside his office door.
“I’ll go first,” you say, to which he nods. “I have some errands to run anyway. You can wait a minute and then come out after me.”
“Sounds good.”
The two of you stare at each other for a second, before you finally square your shoulders, and reach for the door handle.
Before you can twist it, Wriothesley catches your wrist. When you look back at him, you find that there’s a blush on his cheeks.
“So, I’ll…see you later?”
His suddenly bashful demeanor causes you to smile. Pressing onto your toes, you cup his cheeks and softly kiss him. He immediately grabs your waist—deepening the kiss.
“You’ll see me later,” you promise.
With that, the two of you finally separate, and you disappear through his office door.
Wriothesley takes a deep breath at your departure, combing a hand through his hair as he waits for the right moment to make his own exit.
To be safe, he decides to wait a good few minutes. But finally, he opens his door—preparing to venture into the main area of the fortress, and make his normal rounds.
…however, he only makes it a step before remembering the sign Sigewinne had made.
With a sigh, he immediately backtracks and tears the DO NOT DISTURB sign off of his door, crumpling it between his palms.
When he turns back around, he nearly jumps—Sigewinne standing right in front of him.
“So,” she says, a pleased grin on her face. “How’d it go?”
Narrowing his eyes, Wriothesley only stares ahead, and walks past her. She easily follows after him.
“The fact that you’re out and about this early in the day means something likely happened between you and Y/N.”
“No comment,” Wriothesley responds, which makes Sigewinne giggle. They pass by a few prisoners as Wriothesley makes a B-line for the elevator to the production zone. Once there, Sigewinne squeezes herself in along with him.
As the elevator begins to descend, only a few seconds pass in silence, before Sigewinne asks one last question.
“As your doctor, it’s my recommendation that you continue to regularly relieve your stress. So, are you going to be dutifully carrying out my orders from now on?”
Wriothesley makes a little face, glancing away from her.
“...maybe.”
Sigewinne smiles.
That’s good enough for her.
[A Dragon's Constitution] ->
#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley smut#wriothesley genshin#genshin fic#bean fic#fic#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin smut
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Sylus remembers clearly the day he found out you were both having twins. Twins, as in two babies as yours and his first children.
How you almost passed out when the doctor delivered the news, but he was quick to tell you that everything would be okay.
He's going to be the best husband for you, and for the twins..?
they sure were going to be a handful.
“Sylus!” Sylus' head snapped towards the kitchen, where your voice had come from, “come get your son before i cook him!”
He knew that you were joking. Probably.
the kitchen, one hand holding his little girl's hand guiding her along. "Now, now," he called out as he entered the kitchen, "No cooking the children, sweetie.”
You let out a sigh when you watch the boy run away while letting out giggles, his face and hands full of white flour.
Seeing this, Sylus let out an exasperated sigh as well, his gaze shifting from his running figure to the mess of flour on the floor. "Sorry about the mess he made," he muttered before looking over at you, a sheepish smile on his face. "Go to your brother,” he urges the girl next to him, she nods slowly before running off to him.
“I'll feed him to the ducks one day.” You say with determination, still focused on trying to make this dinner a success after the mess.
But Sylus chuckled at your threat, knowing all too well that you were only half-serious. He could see the twitching in your eyes, but he also knew that you loved both of your children dearly, even if they could be a handful sometimes.
”Though I suspect he would probably find a way to befriend them and make a mess with them.”
“.. why are you right?”
“because i know my children,” he says proudly, then makes slow steps from behind you to not alert you so suddenly, his arms snaking around your waste with his chin resting on your shoulder, “what are you making?”
You smile, “dinner.”
"Smartass," he teased, "I meant what kind of dinner are you making?” he whispers calmly, a soft conversation between you two, with his thumb rubbing ideally on you.
“hm, i could be dinner… but oh well.” you sigh dramatically and he laughs quietly.
You couldn't even continue because you hear a faint “ewwww.” Coming from the corner.
You both glance back at the two heads peeking out from the wall, and you roll your eyes.
"and here I was, having a moment with your mother," he said to them, his voice still low yet amused. "You two really have a knack for interrupting, don't you?”
Your little girl was the first to speak, “it was his idea.” She started quietly, her fingers fidgeting together, but her brother only gasped, “she's lying!”
"Oh, really now?" he’s skeptical, and he approaches both of them with his arms crossed, “Hmm, it's always the innocent ones who lie, isn't it?”
“but I'm not—”
“liar.” The little one huffs and looks away with annoyance, but the minute he could hear his sister im the verge of tears, he knew he messed up.
Sylus was quick to notice her distraught demeanor, his heart clenching slightly at the sight of her on the verge of tears.
"you," Sylus pointed out at the other twin, his voice firmer and authoritative, "did you cause the mess?”
…
Sylus let out a deep sigh, his stern expression softening slightly. He knew he was just being a mischievous little boy, but he also had to nip such behavior in the bud.
"You know better than to blame others for your pranks,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Apologize to your sister.”
The girl sniffled, the threat of tears subsiding as she accepted her brother's apology. She wiped away her stray tears with the back of her hand, a small smile forming on her face.
Sylus nodded approvingly, he patted both of them on their head gently. "There we go, now go back and play together.”
This whole time you were watching the scene with the biggest smile on your face, and Sylus was already prepared for your upcoming teasing words.
“and the father of the year goes to.. you.” ... except he didn't expect this rare sweet statement of yours. He's reminded of why he put a ring on it in the beginning.
"What can I say?" he replied, his voice filled with pride. "I have a talent for handling troublemakers." He placed both of his arms on the counter to your sides, boxing you in, "though, to be fair, they get their mischievous streaks from their mother," he added, and you gasp before turning around. burnt dinner it is.
#Sylus x reader#sylus#sylus fluff#sylus x reader#love and deepspace#lads sylus#lads x reader#lads fluff#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x you#love and deepspace x reader#lads x you#sylus x you#he would still be a girl dad loll
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the birthday boy
- fushiguro megumi x reader
your boyfriend is indifferent towards his own special day, but with you, he actually finds it worth celebrating
genre/warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff with a teeny weeny dash of angst
notes: loosely based on this fanart. pls just give my boi back gege you awful one-eyed cat how could you hold him hostage even on his birthday
listen to: sakura koi by mosawo don't mind me i just get all soft for this poor boy *sigh*
general masterlist
Megumi never really liked birthdays—his own birthdays, specifically.
"Come on, Megumi... just what is it that you want for your present?" you pleaded, pursing your lips together as you faced your boyfriend. "I don't want to give you a surprise only to find out it's not something you'd enjoy!"
However, ever since Gojo went and took him in, ever since he began attending Jujutsu High, and ever since he started dating you, to his chagrin, everyone started making a big fuss over it.
With the straightest face ever, he glanced at you and muttered, "I'm telling you, you can get me whatever."
"That's not an answer!"
"Seriously, you can pick anything. I'm good with anything."
You huffed in exasperation. "You're so unbelievably uncooperative, sheesh."
"On the contrary, I think I'm being quite amiable," he deadpanned. "You don't have to think about it that hard."
In a way, you should've expected this. Your boyfriend was never one who made a big deal over anything, and he probably meant it when he said that he was good with whatever. Your soft boy was just wired that way.
Meanwhile, to Megumi, his birthday was more of a remainder of good old days he spent with his kind sister and Gojo—when times were much more simpler. When Tsumiki was still alive and well. Call him an emo, but he was just feeling bittersweet.
Tsumiki would craft him this makeshift party hat, and Gojo would get him an overly sweet birthday cake with an even more over-the-top frostings. They'd join in singing him happy birthday, and Gojo's singing would be intentionally and especially awful while at it.
But now that he thought back to it, he kind of missed those times.
You threw him a narrowed-eyed look. "Forget it, I half-expected this anyway—" but then, suddenly struck by an idea, you exclaimed, "—oh! Wait, I know!"
Your enthusiastic exclamation caught his attention, and he silently observed as you furiously tapped away on your phone, scouring Google for standard gift ideas for boyfriends.
For the next half-hour, you continuously sought his feedback on each of suggestions. However, Megumi only nodded or agreed with evident disinterest, which didn't really answer your question at all.
“You’re seriously going to be like this, huh?” you sighed, frowning in total indignation, but in your boyfriend’s eyes, you were the height of absolute cuteness.
As you grumbled inwardly about how dull he was, Megumi wore a small smile. Truthfully, if asked, his ideal birthday would revolve around spending time with you. You didn't have to lose your head over this.
Needless to say, you were still trying to make it an event to remember. And Megumi knew, because you were so obvious it was giving him secondhand embarrassment.
"Itadori! I'm telling you—" you were rebuking a sheepish Yuji on broad daylight regarding which color for balloons to be placed in the class on the day of his birthday. Earlier, he saw you and Nobara huddled together, talking about cakes and pastries, then also animatedly discussing with Inumaki, Panda and Maki, pulling out all the stops for a celebration plan without missing a beat.
Megumi could only facepalm at your attempt to maintain secrecy—in which you were failing miserably, almost as if you hadn't really made an effort at all.
"Isn’t it nice, Megumi?" suddenly Gojo slid beside him, with a stupid grin on his face. "Someone who exclusively goes this far for you, hmm?"
"It's embarrassing..."
"Ha! Don't be shy," Gojo barked, leaving him with a friendly pat in the back before stalking away with a snicker, and Megumi wasn't the least bit amused. He was certain that at least, Yuji and Nobara would tease the heck out of him after all was said and done due to your antics.
Even so, he didn't have the heart to stop you, appreciating your well-meaning efforts. He felt somewhat soft too inside, as he didn't expect that there would be someone who cared about this way too much like you did. Just it felt strange—
—because last he remembered, the only person who was hellbent on making his birthday a nice memory was Tsumiki.
. . .
So you were organizing a surprise party for him alongside others. Megumi already knew that, he had anticipated it and frankly, he didn’t actually expect much, but when he actually stepped into the classroom and was greeted with a literal bang, confetti, colorful banners, balloons, and a crowd of well-wishers, he was floored.
“Fushiguro! Happy birthday!”
“Look happier a little, would you?!”
“Look! Look! We got you a cake!”
Yuji and Panda almost hugged him—but before he could, Megumi shoved them away, Nobara handed him a paper bag tied with a pretty bow with a cool smile—believing her gift to be the best, Inumaki gave his hand a shake, and Maki wished him only the best.
All of this was within his expectations. He knows, and yet…
"Hey, Megumi! Smile!" your voice stood out the most, along with your widest smile, beaming and gesturing towards the camera as you were about to take a group picture.
Megumi swore his heart skipped a beat. His pretty, sweet girlfriend. Your affections reached him, and it dampened the hardness that he always carried inside his heart. In that fleeting moment, he felt you were radiant, just like the sun.
Then he turned his gaze and found the person he knew he could never thank enough in this lifetime. Gojo, for the first time in a while, wasn't the clown he made himself to be for his sake. Standing with crossed arms, he quietly watched over him, nodding towards the camera as well with a meaningful smile.
Megumi felt warm, he felt loved, and he wouldn’t admit it, but this might be the best day of his life—surrounded by you and his friends like this. And he actually felt more than just that, but no words could do it justice, because nothing could have ever captured the overwhelming fullness inside his chest.
Tsumiki... You see... I'm doing well, you know?
Later, after all festivities are done, you managed to pull him into a secluded corner of the dorms to give him your one-of-a-kind gift, while fidgeting nervously.
"What is it?" he questioned, gaze squarely fixed on you. "At this point, there's no need for you to be this nervous. Nothing could've surprised me any more than Panda's giant panda earlier."
You laughed, recalling how he nearly got squashed by the life-sized stuffed panda earlier, but then you averted your gaze, feeling your face flush and turning into the cutest shade of pink.
"Well! To be fair, it was because you were so uncooperative when I asked what you wanted for your gift! And since I have gotten you the cake, I figured it'll be fun if you want to play this game..."
You huffed, and Megumi simply blinked in confusion when you handed him five pieces of papers—tickets? He turned them over to find the words "Free Pass" written on each one.
"Sooo you can use each ticket to ask me to do anything! Anything at all, be it me dancing to the worst song you can think of, or whatever!" your cheeks were burning so hard, but your resolute gaze kept him captivated as you continued, "So yeah, you get five free passes to make me do things I wouldn't normally do."
Lips pursed, eyes sparkling, cheeks ablaze. All in all, you were irresistibly adorable that Megumi had this overwhelming urge to scoop you up and put you inside his pocket if he could.
And really, free passes? Did you not consider the numerous exploitable loopholes he could subject you to?
"Okay, here, I want to use my first ticket."
"Huh! Already? What is it?"
He chuckled then, his lips tugging into the warmest of smiles, and you felt your heart soar, seeing that rare carefree expression on him.
"I want to kiss you."
#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader fluff#fushiguro x reader#megumi x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk imagines#fushiguro megumi fluff#fushiguro megumi x y/n#jjk#megumi fluff
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Regulus' Crush
Regulus Black x fem!Slytherin!reader (Sirius Black x reader is endgame)
series masterlist
4k words
cw: swearing, fluff, drinking, Y/N
Regulus knocked on Sirius’s door, knowing he would be in there. There was no answer. He knocked again. Silence. He gave the knock one more try, louder this time.
“Sirius, I know you’re in there,” he called through the door. “Can I… Can I talk to you?”
More silence. But then Regulus heard the thump of Sirius’s feet as he slid off his bed. There were some muffled grumbles before he unlocked the door.
“What’s up, Reg?”
“Those are some nice posters you have on your wall,” he said, looking past his brother to the girls in swimsuits or clad in leather, leaning over motorcycles.
“I’ve had ‘em up…” Sirius gave his brother a look. “You wanted to talk about my posters?”
“Ah, no,” he chuckled. “I was just wondering if you knew, possibly, how to ask out a girl?”
Sirius laughed. Regulus felt his face turn pink. It had been a while since his brother had laughed joyfully in their house. It had taken him all summer to work up the courage to ask Sirius about this and that was his response. He must’ve been as much as an embarrassment of a brother to him as Sirius was to the family as a whole.
“It’s stupid, I know. I’ll leave you alone.”
Regulus turned to leave when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Come in, doofus.”
He turned around and Sirius was already halfway back to his bed. Regulus closed the bedroom door behind him and sat in the chair at Sirius’s desk.
“Hogwarts girl, I’m assuming?” Sirius asked.
“Yeah. Um, she’s in your year. She’s really cool.”
He laughed again. “Sorry, I just wouldn’t describe girls I ask out as ‘cool.’ Nothing wrong with it. Just… not me.” He paused. “So, Reg, you like ‘em older?”
“It’s only one year!” he defended quickly, making Sirius laugh louder.
“Okay, so you like her! No need to get so worked up… Are you two friends? Do you talk? Obviously you don’t have classes together.”
“We’ve talked a few times. Study hall, Common Room, Great Hall. Quidditch games! When I’m not playing. She doesn’t know it all that well and asks a lot of questions despite being at like every game.”
“So she might refer to you as a friend. How come you’re the one answering her quidditch questions?”
“I just happen to be next to her during games.”
Sirius smiled at his brother, holding in a laugh.
“You sly dog.”
“Don’t laugh again!” Regulus pleaded. “How do I ask her out?”
“Well, being next to her at quidditch games might be a start for this. Destinations are key. You could go to a game together.”
“Together…” he repeated.
“Yes, together. Quidditch games are good. Low stress. People are around you but you hang out before or after. More of a testing the waters type of thing.”
Regulus watched his brother as he reclined more.
“A next move would be a Hogsmeade weekend. Can be a group or solo thing.Those usually turn out with following her into all of her favorite shops. Be prepared to be bored. And, if you get this far, you start going with her to all the quidditch games. She’ll expect you to be around more, but you should want to be there. You’ll get to know all her friends. And it’s more ideal if you don’t kiss them.”
“Sirius,” Regulus interrupted,making a face. “You didn’t.”
“Went to Hogsmeade with MacDonald and she caught me kissing McKinnon that night after dinner.”
“I need you to circle back. How do I do the actual asking?”
“What do you mean?”
“What words do I use?”
“Do you want to go on a date with me?”
“That seems… too formal? I don’t think she’s that formal. She might laugh at me if I ask that way.”
“Hmm, they usually just say yes if I ask them… Okay, how about ‘Oh fair maiden, dost thou wish to bless mine with thoust company when the twilight star is in the sky?’”
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Now you’re just being mean.”
“Hey, we should go to the quidditch game together.”
“Oh.”
“Or, hey, I was thinking we could go to the game together. What do you think?”
“OH.”
“Yeah, they like it if you ask their permission or how they feel about it. But, depending on the girl, the first option might be better. I’m assuming I won’t know who it is until you ask? Although my options are pretty limited with Slytherin girls in my year…”
“Yeah, I’ll write you an owl with her response,” he said sarcastically.
“Get out of my room.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Regulus said, standing up. “Thanks.”
“Close the door!”
The door closed with a soft thud and a click. Sirius chuckled softly and moved to his desk. While it must’ve taken Regulus some time to ask him about this, Sirius thought it was amusing. And he must really like this girl to ask him how to ask her out. He wondered why he hadn’t asked his friends. Although, they would’ve known the girl right off the bat, and that seemed like something Regulus didn’t want the whole school knowing before he got an answer.
Sirius pulled out paper and his quill. He had to write to James, Peter and Remus about this. Speculation about who Regulus fancied would be entertainment for all of them. Sirius was growing frustrated as he wrote since he couldn’t remember a single girl’s name. In general, the Slytherin girls were less abhorrent than the boys, thus making them less impressionable. All he could seem to remember is that they never seemed to be anywhere without at least a second one. And with that, he groaned. He couldn’t even remember how many of them there were. Should he care? Not necessarily, but if he could use this to torment his brother for a month or two, it could be useful.
---
Regulus hugged his parents at the train station. He promised he would write and keep them up to date on what was happening at the school. He always did. And he knew he especially needed to now that Sirius had run away. He turned and spotted his friends climbing onto the train. They were a few cars down. He boarded at a car closest to him, hoping he might pass by your compartment on his way down to them. It was purely wishful thinking and he didn’t know if he would say anything if he did pass it.
Younger students pushed past him as he slowly walked down the corridor. He listened to conversations as he passed. One group of first years eagerly was talking about how much magic they were going to learn and worrying about which house they would get sorted into. Various other groups were rehashing their summers to each other. Neither of the groups he was looking for. And then he heard your voice. A girl was standing in the doorway of the compartment, chewing gum. Your voice was floating out of it.
“... was the worst! In case you’re blind, I grew a bit over the summer and Mum insisted on purchasing new robes. I was bleeding in multiple spots by the time we left Madam Malkin’s. Sure, Mum healed me right up, but it’s the principle. I shouldn’t be subjected to such torture!”
“Regulus,” the girl in the doorway said as he approached.
She popped a bubble right in his face.
“Beatrice, pleasure,” he said, pausing to look into the compartment.
You were sitting with your back to the window and your legs stretched across the seat. Across from you sat the two other girls from your year, Pandora and Dorcas.
“Y/N, girls,” he said warmly and then continued on his way to find his friends.
It wasn’t a long walk, only a few compartments down from the girls. He passed a compartment filled with girls from his years. One of them said hi to him as he walked by so he nodded to acknowledge her. His mind was beginning to overthink his saying hi to you. Had addressing Pandora and Dorcas as ‘girls’ been weird? Saying your name singled you out. But he also said Beatrice’s name. Although she said hi to him first and was standing in the door.
“Black, you with us?” Avery asked, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, I’m with you now. Sorry,” he muttered.
He had to put the thoughts out of his head for a bit. Girls can wait. It wasn’t like he was planning to ask you out while they were on the train. That would’ve been suicidal and a recipe for failure. Horrible.
---
A fifth girl walked into your compartment. Beatrice followed her in and closed the door behind them.
“Took you long enough,” Dorcas said.
“Little sisters wouldn’t leave the fucking house. Father was furious,” Cora defended, distaste in almost every word.
“Almost missed the train,” you told her. “We would’ve missed you at the sorting and you mock the firsties the best.”
The girls laughed.
“Oh, Y/N, is there something going on between you and Black?” Beatrice asked.
“Sirius?” Cora coughed in disbelief.
“Ew, no. Regulus!” Beatrice corrected. “He passed by earlier. Barely noticed Cas and Dory over here. Only saw me because I was in the way.” She smirked. “So, Y/N, yes or no?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Do sources say otherwise?” you responded, a bit confused. “And by sources, I mean reliable ones. Not your imagination.”
“It’s not my imagination! It’s my eyes!” Beatrice retorted.
“You may be reading into it, Bea,” Pandora said. “I mean, maybe he didn’t get a good look at us. Or blanked on our names. Don’t think too hard.”
“Classes haven’t even started. Brains don’t work yet,” Dorcas added.
“Does your brain ever work?” you asked.
“Hmm… No.”
The girls burst into fits of laughter again. Beatrice asked Cora about her summer and the conversation shifted away from Regulus. Your thoughts drifted back to the thought in dull moments of the conversation, but those moments never lasted long. You weren’t sure if Regulus has “more than friend” material. You even thought about Sirius briefly. Regulus’s brother. You didn’t share the same immediate “ew” that Beatrice had. But the sentiment of lacking “more than friend” extended to Sirius too. They weren’t even friends to begin with. So, why be distracted by boys who aren’t worth pursuing when you could be entranced by other things?
“Y/N, you said your mum bought you new robes, right?” Dorcas asked, bringing you back to the conversation.
You nodded.
“So, what else did you get from Malkin’s?”
You smiled and pulled back your sleeve. A silver tennis bracelet covered in diamonds glittered around your wrist.
“Snagged some sapphire earrings for Mum’s Christmas present, too. It was a successful outing,” you gloated. “Well, except for the bleeding. But if that’s the price, I suppose it’s cheap considering…”
“You’ve got to get me a present sometime!” Beatrice gasped.
“Oh, me too!” added Pandora.
You laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
The group talked more about your summers and vague plans for the year.
“Do you think someone will throw a ‘back to school’ party?” Dorcas asked, adjusting her tie as the girls changed into their uniforms.
“No doubt,” you answered. “The question is when.”
“Friday or Saturday, I’d assume,” Pandora said as she pulled her hair into a ponytail.
“Well, duh,” you laughed.
“Y/N, you’re in charge of getting us drinks!” Cora declared.
“Again, duh.”
The train pulled into the Hogsmeade station. The girls had decided that Saturday was better for the party. It would give them time to claim an empty classroom and set it up. And you would be able to get drinks. Cora was in charge of talking to a house elf to get food, or at least ingredients. If she failed, you would be able to pull something off, but that would push back the start time of the party.
You slid the compartment door open with force. You opened the boys’ compartment and poked your head in. It was deadly silent and all eyes were on you.
“Saturday, after dinner. We’re finding a sixth floor classroom to party in. Y’all invited. Do your part and invite people. Limited fifth years and no one younger,” you told them.
Regulus smiled. ‘Limited fifth years’ meant he could go. Plus, he was in the compartment that you specifically invited. Wilkes nodded at you and you stalked off.
---
Professor Slughorn passed out schedules to Slytherin students at breakfast the next morning. Regulus watched as he stopped near you and your friends. The professor handed out the timetables without saying a word and continued down the table.
“Who makes this schedule?” Cora groaned, looking it over. “History of Magic isn’t the class to teach first period!”
“Ew, gross!” Dorcas sneered.
“When will they learn to include who we have classes with on these schedules? I like to know who I have to put up with before I walk into the room,” Beatrice said, looking over her own. “Like, my electives, I have a general idea from last year. But do we have Transfiguration with Hufflepuff? Gryffindor? Ravenclaw?”
“Me, myself, and I would like to know!” you added.
Across the hall, Sirius was being handed his schedule by Professor McGonagall. He scanned it and then grabbed the rest of the groups’ schedules to compare. They hadn’t all chosen the same electives going into their third year so sometimes there were differences.
“Okay, not bad. Not bad…”
“I’m not sure why you think we won’t have most classes together,” Remus said.
“Maybe they decided they wanted to mess with us.”
“Can’t separate us! We’re the Marauders!” James exclaimed and slammed his mug down on the table.
The seventh years next to them shot him a dirty look. He made a face back at them.
“Grow up,” Remus laughed. “But, yeah, it’s kind of difficult to separate us.”
“Unless I get left behind,” Peter mumbled before shoveling pancakes into his mouth.
James threw his arm around him. “You’re stuck with us, little Wormtail. Until the very end!”
---
Three days of classes was enough time for word to spread about the party the Slytherin girls were planning. They picked out a classroom and figured out how to replace the desks with couches, squishy chairs and beanbags. Cora managed to convince a house elf into making a few snacks for the party. She had gone in with low expectations and left with guarantees of a second feast.
“Anything for an inter-house activity!” she said, imitating the elf.
The girls were walking to the classroom. Various students from other houses lingered in the corridors and in stairwells. They had been instructed to stagger arrivals to the classroom so they didn’t all descend on the room at the same time. The girls made sure to be the first ones there, as good hosts should be. They enchanted a speaker to play endless music. Cora set up the food trays as the elf had instructed her so they could fill from the kitchens. Pandora clapped as cream puffs and eclairs filled the trays. Slowly, people started to arrive. The room steadily got louder. Dorcas and Beatrice kept glancing from the door to the empty drink station to each other and repeat.
You had left dinner early to retrieve several bottles from your stash. You didn’t let anyone know where you hid your stuff, nor what was all hidden there. You removed a painting from the wall and then tapped your wand to the wall. Bricks melted away like the entrance to Diagon Alley. A small room lit by an oil lamp was revealed. You grabbed the bag you left earlier and resealed the room. You hung the painting back up and hurried up to the sixth floor. You heard the party from down the hall and smirked. The party had started without you and the drinks - a sign that drinks maybe weren’t needed.
When you entered the room, Dorcas and Beatrice almost tackled you.
“Be careful!” you yelled at them, holding up the clanking bag.
They took a step back.
“I just… need a drink,” Dorcas said.
They wasted no time setting up the drink table. Students gathered around them and helped hand out drinks.
“How did you get stuff stronger than butterbeer?” a Ravenclaw asked.
“I’ll never tell,” you said.
You grabbed a bottle of flavored vodka. You had to do your rounds of the party. You liked knowing who showed up, who spent time with who and did whatever else with. Some call it gossip. You called it blackmail ammo.
Prefects were dancing with each other. Seventh years were making out on a couch. Mary and Lily were on a couch, talking. The Gryffindor boys had found the drinks and were chugging them. Pandora and Cora were trying to get some of the Slytherin boys to dance. They didn’t seem to be too successful.
You walked up to them and whispered to Cora, “Get them some drinks. Once they loosen up, try again.”
Cora nodded and went to grab cups. You continued to walk around the party alone. You took small sips from your bottle. You spotted Regulus sitting in one of the squishy chairs. He looked bored. You smiled and waved at him. He smiled back, but it quickly disappeared from his face when you walked toward Beatrice who was standing against the wall at the other side of the room.
“It’s a party, Bea,” you told her. “Go dance! Talk to someone! Be stupid!”
“I am being stupid,” she hissed back so that you could barely hear her above the music and talking. “I can’t socialize.”
You held out your bottle.
“Have a few sips. I’ll dance with you.”
Beatrice did as told and took your hand. You dragged her out to the middle of the floor and you danced. You liked dancing, but you also liked being aware of your surroundings, which you couldn’t do as well if you were dancing with a friend while trying not to drop your bottle. After a few songs, a Hufflepuff came up to you and asked to dance with Beatrice. Blushing, she accepted. You left them and went to take Beatrice’s old spot on the wall.
Before the song ended, Sirius approached you with a cup full of firewhiskey in his hand. Remus’s eyes widened as he saw who Sirius was approaching. His other friends were elsewhere in the room, unaware that Sirius was trying to make a move on a Slytherin he had never talked to before.
“You’re pretty,” he said confidently like it was a smooth pick up line.
He stood directly in front of you with his non-cup hand placed on the wall above your shoulder. You raised your eyebrows at him. You could smell the whiskey strong on his breath. This wasn’t his first cup.
“And you’re in my personal space,” you stated calmly. “Care to get out of it?”
“Hmm, I’d prefer to be even more in it.”
“Yeah, not happening,” you responded, giving his chest a push.
It was just enough to make him take a step back but not stumble. He looked a bit shocked, but didn’t say anything as you walked away from him. You took a long swig from your bottle and headed over to Regulus. You sat on the arm of the chair and handed him the bottle.
“Were you just talking to my brother?” he scoffed before taking a drink.
“Not by choice,” you groaned, leaning back.
You placed your hand on his shoulder to balance yourself. He liked the feeling of your fingers grasping him, but he wouldn’t dare say anything. Not now, at least.
“Yeah, he does that.”
Regulus took another drink out of the bottle before handing it back to you. He watched as Remus walked up to Sirius and threw his arm around him to drag him over where James was twirling some seventh year. She was giggling. Peter joined them shortly from the direction of the food table. A Ravenclaw girl was quick to grab Sirius from under Remus. And the two of them were dancing. Regulus chuckled as Sirius kept a polite distance from the girl. She was obviously more into it than he was.
He wanted to ask you out now, but Hogsmeade and Quidditch weren’t for weeks. He looked up at you as you took a drink. Your eyes scanned the room. You smiled. You brushed a stray lock of hair behind your shoulder. Regulus’s brain had gone blank except for the thought ‘She is so pretty.’
He was jolted back into reality as you slammed the vodka bottle into his chest.
“Don’t touch me, mudblood!” a seventh year Slytherin shrieked at a fifth year Hufflepuff in the middle of the room.
You were between them within seconds with your wand out, pointed at the seventh year, who had also drawn her wand. Other students moved the Hufflepuff into the crowd. The air was tense. Someone had turned off the music.
“Was that necessary, Williams?” you asked, your voice steady and firm.
“Protecting mudbloods? Really?” the girl responded with annoyance.
“Protecting the party,” you corrected. “Head out or get hexed.”
“I could disarm you.”
“You won’t. You don’t want to be the reason Slytherin drops into negative points.”
Williams shoved her wand back into her pocket, made a face and grabbed the boy she had been dancing with to leave. She could be heard muttering rude comments about you and the Hufflepuff boy to the boy she was leaving with. You put your wand back in your waistband. Everyone at the party was staring at you as you stood in the middle of the dance floor.
“Either turn the music back on or clear out,” you commanded before heading over to the drink table.
Music started playing again, but some students did leave. You understood that the moment kind of ruined the vibe, but that was the way Williams was. You were planning on leaving too, except you wouldn’t leave without your drinks. You grabbed your bag from behind the table and started to place the bottles back into it. You refilled a few drinks as students came up to you.
“Way to handle that…” Regulus said, appearing next to you and holding out your vodka bottle.
“Blood status is bogus,” you muttered.
You then realized that you were talking to a Black, a family known for caring about the purity of wizard blood. You felt your face get warm as you looked up at him. You couldn’t quite read his expression.
“Don’t hex me ‘bout it?” you offered, causing him to laugh.
“I’m not going to hex you. Just like how you stood up to Williams.”
You gave a soft smile and swung your bag over your shoulder, bottles clinking within.
“Well, then I’ll see you later, Reg,” you said.
He watched you walk out the door. He sighed. He should have asked you to hang out or do homework or something.
“Y/N leave?” Beatrice whispered into Regulus’s ear.
He jumped and nearly punched her.
“Fuck, Beatrice.” He shook his head. “Yeah, she just left.”
“Boo,” she said, looking at the empty table. “She took all the drinks with her!”
“Yeah.”
He walked away from Beatrice and went back to his chair, glad that no one had taken it. The party wasn’t nearly as entertaining now that you were gone.
Across the room, Sirius had been watching. He saw Regulus approach you at the drink table and the brief conversation. He saw his brother’s facial expression drop as you walked away and him jump when another girl talked to him. Regulus’s aura darkened as you left the room. He was drunk at that point, but he was still able to connect that the girl he had called pretty was the one his brother wanted to ask out. To him, that was obvious.
#marauders fic#marauders#marauder-misprint#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#sirius black fluff#regulus black#regulus black x you#regulus black x reader
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Ortho: Hello, Mr. Leviathan!
Levi: Hello, Ortho-kun! *chuckles* Good morning!
Ortho: Are you here to play with my brother?
Levi: Yes. And I also need to talk to him about something.
Ortho: In that case, I will wake him up.
Levi: Eh? Why? Is he not awake yet?
Ortho: Well, you played games with him until 4:07AM.
Levi: *awkwardly smiles* Sorry...
Ortho: It's fine! But please try to decrease your game time. My brother is still a human and his health is important to me and everyone else here in Ignihyde.
Levi: Yeah. I'll keep that in mind.
Idia: Huh? Leona has teamed up with Belphegor? What does that mean?
Levi: You know what it is!
Idia: Yeah, I get you. But I don't think it would be ideal for the Prefect to add another lover to their existing number of husbands.
Levi: Do you honestly think that is the case?
Idia: What?
Levi: Seven avatars of hell, the future king of Devildom, the demon butler who can manipulate time and space, the most powerful sorcerer, one archangel, and one reaper wife who likes to set up traps.
Levi: And on top of that, there are two who are crushing on them from both Devildom and Celestial Realm.
Idia: ...
Idia: Geez.
Levi: Right? And I can't blame them because MC is so amazing and you couldn't help but to love them—
Idia: Time, time!
Levi: Huh?
Idia: You're not helping your case, Levi. Every time you say MC is amazing, the listener will be interested and it would urge them to know them better, to form a relationship with them.
Idia: And with the way you rant right now, it seems to me that you are recruiting me to be their boyfriend.
Levi: If you can't beat them, join them.
Idia: Noo! MC is already tired with all of these things! They don't need another socially-awkward gamer lover and a lazy lion prince!
Idia: Give. Them. A. Break!
Levi: ...
Levi: Idia-kun... You really care about MC... *sniffles* *smiles* Are you sure you don't want to be their boyfriend?
Idia: Ask someone who's more willing and wouldn't mind sharing a relationship with a bunch.
Levi: If you're referring to that dragon guy, no way. Nuh-uh. I don't like him.
Idia: Malleus? Why?
Levi: He's got a long lifespan.
Idia: ...
Idia: Wait.
MC: *has finished the necessary steps to become a noble and has gone straight to their third year's class*
MC: *didn't notice that they're still wearing their formal demon outfit*
The third-years: ...
MC: Do you have any questions before we start this class?
Trey: *raises his hand*
MC: Yes, Trey?
Trey: Um... Are you forgetting something?
MC: Hmm... No. I think I have everything here.
Trey: O-Oh... Haha... Okay.
MC: ...
MC: What are you all staring at? *raises an eyebrow*
Rook: *raises his hand*
MC: Yes, Rook?
Rook: Beauté, Trickster! Admirably sinful even!
MC: Huh?
Lilia: *who's giving Malleus a teasing look*
Malleus: *his cute, little expression while staring at them*
MC: Cater, why didn't you tell me that I looked weird earlier?
Cater: I was busy admiring your pact marks.
MC: You were staring at my leg?
Cater: And shoulders. 😩🙏
MC: ...
MC: Did I really look that good?
Cater: Yes, bestie~ We almost kneeled in front of you.
MC: ...
MC: You're exaggerating.
Cater: But it's truue~. *chuckles*
#twisted wonderland#obey me mc#twst mc#twst idia#obey me levi#twst ortho#twst trey#twst lilia#twst malleus#twst cater#twst x obey me
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Hi there,
I love your writings! I never sent an ask before, and I'm sure you have plenty of requests, but your works are incredible, so anything you choose to write about is bound to be amazing!
I was wondering if you would consider doing more 18+ headcannons for the ROTTMNT Boys, like you did for Leo? The idea that they all fall for the reader for different reasons sounds intriguing 🤤
Random Headcanons About Donatello (18+)
Rise!Donatello x reader
A/N: I decided to write one for Donnie, because other than this, I have nothing one Rise Donnie😭 Hope you’ll like this, and will satisfy some of you Donnie people out there💜
Warnings: Talk of masturbation, a little bit of intimate instints.
Donnie was never been much of a big flirt, nor had he ever had much interest in anything romantic. To him, it felt like a waste of time. Those kinds of feelings never came easy to him, so it was kind of hard for him to fit it into his life.
But of course Donnie felt bodily needs. He was a living being after all. But he had never tied it to any emotions of love or attraction. No, to him it had always been a natural thing he needed to get done. Something his body needed, a part of his nature. Science and biology in its natural habitat. So when he felt the need, he would hide himself away in his room, and make quick work with his hands on himself, until he didn’t feel the growing neediness in his member anymore.
He never bothered to spend much time thinking about these things. He never bothered spending time thinking about what he was into, when it came to a partner. Because why would he do that? He wasn’t looking for a partner, so why would he try to figure out what his ideal partner would be like? Sounded like a stupid thing to do in his opinion.
These things didn’t change straight away when you entered Donnie’s life. Donnie did not feel any different when he and his brothers started to hang out with you. You were a nice friend and Donnie did enjoy spending time with you. But that was just that. You were just a friend, and Donnie didn’t want it to be any other way. No more. No less.
But slowly but surely, things between the two of you would change.
As time went on, you and Donnie would get closer, slowly becoming best friends. That meant you and the purple genius would often spend time alone together, getting to know each other on a deeper level. You just understood Donnie, and you never struggled or clashed with his way of being, like his brothers would from time to time. However, there would be small things that you did, that slowly would make Donnie’s heart flutter. It was how you seemed to understand his sometimes non-verbal communication, how you easily learned his way of organizing, and his other small quirks.
The realization that Donnie had developed feelings for you, hit him like a wall of bricks. It happened one late night, as Donnie sat in his lab, hunched over his work, his thoughts running as he worked. His thoughts floated towards you and your beautiful smile… Hmm, odd… But you did have a beautiful smile. Anyway, back to work… You also did have a very nice voice… Donnie really liked your voice. It made him happy to hear it whenever you were around… Snap out of it Donnie! You’re working!... When did Donnie last see you anyway? A few days ago, when you and him had decided to watch that movie together. And you were wearing those jeans that really fitted your butt and thighs so well. So well that Donnie for a short moment, wished he could just reach out to touch them. That was the moment Donnie dropped what he had in his hand, his eyes wide when he realized what was going on.
Donnie, much to his own surprise, now found himself spending much time dreaming and wondering about love. He thought of you, what it would be like to be with you, both emotionally and physically. He wondered what you liked, and if you would ever look at him in the same way. And for the first time, Donnie found himself touching himself, not just because of his needs, but because of what your beautiful being did to him.
And for the first time Donnie found himself interested in romance, and it wouldn’t take long before he slowly put in the work, in order to win you and your love over.
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt donatello#tmnt donnie#tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt donnie x reader#tmnt donnie x reader smut#tmnt donatello x reader#tmnt donatello x reader smut#rottmnt#rottmnt x reader#rottmnt donnie#rottmnt donatello#rottmnt donnie x reader#rottmnt donnie x reader smut#rottmnt donatello x reader#rottmnt donatello x reader smut
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🍒 — FRUIT ASK GAME
( reblog … send a fruit … get an answer !! what will the fruit oracle tell you about other realities hmm )
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ .
— 🍋 TERRIBLY SOUR LEMON … who’s your least favorite person in your DR? a poisonous ex, a toxic professor—maybe someone who tried to straight up murder you. who do you truly go sour in the face at the thought of?
— 🍎 SHINY RED APPLE … what are you the absolute best at in your DR? the thing that, when people need help with it, they let out the most gigantic sigh of relief when you walk in the room—everyone knows you do it best
— 🍓 SUGAR SWEET STRAWBERRY … what’s the most romantic, sugar-sweet moment you’ve had or will have in your DR? something so terrifically soft and perfect it could’ve come straight from a wild strawberry patch
— 🍆 DEEP UMBER EGGPLANT … what’s the most thrilling fantasy you have about your lover in your DR? no information is too much or too little, it’s all according to your comfort—a midnight rendezvous, a sudden vacation for two, or maybe just a night in with one-or-two extra glasses of wine and hanging out :)
— 🥝 FUZZY BURST KIWI … what’s something about you in your DR that people wouldn’t expect to be true? it doesn’t quite line up, some fabulous detail about you. when people find out, they’re positively shocked
— 🥭 TROPICAL LUSH MANGO … what adds the most dynamic, vibrant color to your DR? a person, a place, an activity, a part of your identity—its presence lights up your existence there like sun rays on a blank canvas
— 🍏 CRISP GREEN APPLE … what’s a memory from your childhood in your DR that stands out amongst the others? the edges of the picture are crisp, it may not be particularly good or bad—but intricately memorable
— 🍈 HONEY BLISS CANTALOUPE … what’s your favorite season in your DR? do you enjoy sun-drenched summers, an exhilarating back to school time in autumn, or perhaps some particularly festive Christmas traditions that make the wintertime special?
— 🍒 BLOODRED CHERRIES … what is your biggest fear in your DR? you don’t have to get deep if you don’t wanna—it can be as small and horrifying as a spider or the dark. something that truly rattles you to your bones
— 🥑 EARTHY AVOCADO … what’s the most comforting part of your daily routine in your DR? it’s grounding—something that no matter where you are or what you have going on, will always give you reprise and solace
— 🫐 DEWY BLUEBERRIES … what’s your comfort meal or dessert in your DR? maybe it’s something your parents make for you, something you order from room service while you’re reclined in a hotel room, or something simple you prepare for yourself—it makes you feel better the second you sink your teeth into i
— 🍑 OVERRIPE PEACH … what kind of a future do you imagine for yourself in your DR? white picket fence material, with marriage and a couple kids? perhaps childless but continuing on your adventures til old age, or all of the above?
— 🍌 SUNNY BANANA … what’s a piece of art, literature or music that truly moved you in your DR? perhaps something that shaped your identity, something that you enjoy for purely academic reasons, or just your favorite
— 🍅 SCARLET TOMATO … what’s the juiciest secret you’ve ever kept or will keep in your DR? the kind of scandalous thing that would positively burst into drama if revealed
— 🥥 SUN-KISSED COCONUT … what would your ideal vacation be in your DR? a tropical getaway, with white sand and bungalows? a secluded retreat into the foggy mountains? where would you go, and who would you bring with you?
— 🍉 JUICY WATERMELON … what’s your favorite thing about your lover in your DR? the way they smell like home, how they make your chest hurt with laughter, how they take care of you. maybe the way their hair falls in their face just so
— 🍍 SPIKY BOLD PINEAPPLE … if your life in your DR had a color palette, what would it look like? perhaps pastels, or a range of jewel tones? maybe a collection of shades that seem totally random, but that make perfect sense just to you
— 🍐 MELLOW PEAR … what’s a dream or goal you’re pursuing in your DR? it could be as small as reading more often, or going out with your friends more, or as large as saving the entire cosmic universe. whatever you’re working towards!
— 🍇 TART PURPLE GRAPES … if you could bottle the scent of your favorite memories in your DR, what would the notes be? base notes of parchment and ink for your academic pursuits? middle notes of jasmine and rose petals for a lover you hold close to your heart? perhaps top notes of sea salt and sand for a place you find solace in?
— 🍊 SUNSET CITRUS ORANGE … what’s your favorite kind of outing to go on in your DR, with your friends, family, or your partner? whether it’s a classy art gallery, a carefree rocky beach, or an urban jaunt to the mall, you know you’ll have a good time every time
— 🍋🟩 ZESTY SOUR LIME … do you have any scars in your DR? a little mark on your knee from a childhood mishap on a scooter, or some gigantic mark left as proof of your world-saving tendencies—one that tells a story, big or small
. ˚ * ✦ . . ✦ ˚ ˚ .˚ ✦ . . ˚ .
#shifting motivation#reality shifting#hogwarts dr#shifting to hogwarts#shiftblr#shifting antis dni#hogwarts scripting#shifting blog#shifters#shifting script#shiftinconsciousness#shift#shifting consciousness#shifting realities#shifting#shifting community#shifting to harry potter#shifting diary#ask game#shifting ask game#harry potter dr
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the other way | zhong chenle
chenle x fem!reader summary: chenle finds you really endearing. c/w: fluff, very short because i'm sleepy 😴 a/n: because @sinisxtea broke my weak heart.
You like Chenle.
You like Chenle very, very much.
Everyone knows it, even Chenle himself, and that was just so amusing to him.
It was a delight for him to watch you try to hide your feelings when you were so obviously smitten. At first, he didn’t see you as his ideal type; to him, you were just a very… peculiar person who struggled to contain their emotions. But as he spent more time by your side each day, he couldn’t help but grow fond of you, inevitably developing feelings of his own.
Yet, how could he confess his feelings when it was so entertaining to watch you grow flustered after an affectionate gesture? Or when you gathered just enough courage to let your actions reveal what your words could not? He wasn’t ready to give up those moments, not yet. He wanted to savor them a little longer.
“Oh, I’m feeling so tired, Chenle,” you said with a dramatic sigh, letting your head tilt back slightly. He looked at you with a small, knowing smile and a raised eyebrow. By now, he was familiar with that tone—today, you were feeling bold.
The two of you were sitting side by side on the floor of a dimly lit practice room, the faint glow of city lights filtering through the large windows. The soft hum of a distant song played in the background. He had invited you to join him there after you texted him, saying you were bored, fully knowing you’d accept his invitation in a heartbeat.
“Hmm, really?” he replied, a teasing edge to his voice. “Why are you feeling tired when all you’ve done is sit there watching me practice the entire time?”
“I mean,” you cleared your throat, “i’m feeling so dizzy, Chenle,” you corrected yourself with another exaggerated sigh, earning a barely restrained laugh from him. How could you be this bad at lying?
“Oh no, dizzy?” a mock tone of concern in his voice. “What should we do now? Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” he leaned back, propping himself up on his hands, palms flat against the floor, his legs casually spread.
As he didn’t question you any further about your little lie, you didn’t feel the need to come up with more reasons or details to back it up. You simply watched him for a few seconds, quietly admiring his beauty. He was dressed in casual, comfortable clothes, perfect for moving around, though today he had spent more time talking and having fun with you than actually dancing. Even so, the simple sight of him made your heart race.
It wasn’t unusual for him to catch you admiring him like that. He didn’t mind; in fact, he liked it—a lot. It warmed his heart. He often found himself doing the same to you when you weren’t paying attention or when you were too absorbed, just like now. He loved noticing the little details about you: the way your lips would purse in excitement whenever he was nearby or when he complimented you, the way your pupils dilated when your eyes locked on him, the coy smile and soft giggles that followed his words. Everything about you was utterly endearing to him.
“I think it would help a lot if you let me rest here,” you said, pointing to his chest. “It’s just that lying down on the floor would be way too uncomfortable, you know…” you shrugged casually, as if it were no big deal.
He raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, is that so?” he asked, leaning in slightly as if trying to gauge your true intentions. “Well, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable, of course.”
He shifted his position, leaning his back against the wall. Then, he patted his chest lightly, his arms opening in a small gesture of invitation. Naturally, he wouldn’t deny you something like that, he never had before. Whether it was letting you rest your head on his shoulder because “it hurts”, holding his hand because “it’s too cold”, or sticking close to his arm so “he wouldn’t get lost in a crowd”—he always let you.
You happily welcomed his words but tried to mask your excitement with a small pout, as if wanting to appear like a poor, sickly person. Without hesitation, you crawled into him, settling comfortably between his legs and resting your head on his chest. A delighted sigh escaped your lips at the feeling. You couldn’t wish for anything better, being this close to him, listening to his steady heartbeat, so calm and in contrast to your own, which was hammering against your chest.
The same held true for Chenle. He looked down at you, all cuddled up on him, with adoring eyes. His hands moved instinctively: one gently caressing your hair while the other traced slow, soothing motions up and down your back. Those small, tender gestures made you melt into him even more, and this time, he couldn’t hold back a soft chuckle. It was nice, having you like this.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked, the smile never leaving his face as he tilted his head slightly to have a better look of you. “Better?”
“I don’t think so,” you replied, your eyes closed and a serene expression spreading across your face. “I need to stay like this a bit longer.”
“Are you sure that wasn’t just an excuse to hug me?”
“No, no, of course not. Why would I do that?” you replied, not even bothering to make your words sound convincing.
He chuckled softly at your response, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on your back. “Hmm, I don’t know... Maybe because you like me?” he said with a teasing lilt, his voice dripping with playful confidence.
Your eyes shot open, and you quickly lifted your head to meet his gaze. “W-What? That’s not—” you began, but the smirk on his face told you he wasn’t buying it.
“Relax,” he said, cutting you off with a grin. “I’m just joking… unless?” His playful tone made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but bury your face back into his chest, groaning in embarrassment.
“Ah, stop teasing me,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his shirt.
How could he stop when you acted so adorably?
“Then, I guess you don’t like me at all, huh?” he said with a dramatic sigh, pretending to sound disappointed. You quickly caught on and lifted your head to look up at him again.
“I mean, I like you, yes, but not like… you know, the other way. Just the normal way,” you stammered, trying to explain, as you always did whenever he confronted you like this.
“You’re always saying you like me the normal way, but what even is this normal way?” he asked, pressing further. His hand moved to cup one side of your face, his thumb brushing absently against your cheek. The sudden gesture made your heart race, and you panicked slightly as you struggled to find the words to respond.
“Oh, just, you know, like, um, for example, like this and that and… you know, when we like something…” your voice trailed off, getting quieter with each word. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t like him in a romantic way, but you also didn’t want him thinking the opposite.
As you wrestled with your thoughts, Chenle could only gaze at you with those amused, affectionate eyes, taking in every detail. He watched the way you unconsciously leaned even more into his touch. His gaze drifted down to your lips—slightly parted and as inviting as ever, perhaps even more so now.
As mentioned before, it was fun keeping this friendship status between you two, he enjoyed teasing you and drawing out those adorable reactions. But now, you had him wondering: what would it be like if he finally let things happen? Would you be even messier than this?
He wanted to find out.
In a subtle movement, taking advantage of your distracted state, he leaned in and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. The sudden warmth and softness of his lips against yours made your eyes widen in surprise. You blinked a few times, your mouth slightly open in shock as you tried to process what had just happened. It was as if you were frozen in place, your heart pounding so fast you thought you might be on the verge of a heart attack.
“Oops, did I break you or something?” he teased, though his lighthearted words were tinged with genuine concern as he took in your stunned expression.
“Now I think I’m really dizzy,” you said, your lips trembling ever so slightly. “And this time, I think the only solution is another kiss,” you had no idea where this sudden burst of courage came from; you were simply blurting out words at this point.
It was Chenle’s turn to look at you with a surprised expression before suddenly bursting into laughter, leaving you feeling as though you’d just said something ridiculous.
“Why are you laughing…?” you asked, shrugging your shoulders and looking away, your stomach twisting with embarrassment. “You’re the one who started it.”
Instead of replying, he cupped your face in his hands, pulling you toward him in a fierce, urgent kiss. Your startled gasp was swallowed by his lips as his tongue gently explored your mouth, moving in soft, teasing caresses. You found yourself gripping his shirt tightly, your body melting into his, kissing him back without thinking. One of his hands slid down to your hips, pulling you even closer, pressing your body fully against his.
He hummed softly against your lips, finally giving in to something he had wanted for quite some time. It felt nice, better than he had imagined. The wait was worth it, especially if it was going to be like this.
He only pulled away because you did first, needing to catch your breath. Your lips were swollen and glistening slightly, and your breathless state, combined with the mix of confusion, satisfaction, happiness, and desire in your eyes, made his heart pound.
“I like you,” he said, slightly out of breath. “Not in the normal way. But the other way.”
There was no way you could be more surprised than you already were, so you just went with the flow, your mind too clouded to think before speaking.
“Me too,” you nodded fiercel. “I like you. So, so much. I really like you, Chenle.” It felt so nice to finally say that out loud, directly to him.
“I know you do,” he giggled, leaning in to plant another soft kiss on your lips. you could feel the warmth of his smile against your lips, and his fingers gently brushed your hair back, his touch as tender as ever.
He preferred to have you like that after all.
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