#it works in my mind and i am rotating them all around

[systemic-chaos]

Petition to change the ship name of The Hotel/The Owner to ‘homeowner’

[kisakis-boyfriend]

might i request reader fucking boothill after they take off his arms and legs? he's got mechanical limbs, so it won't really hurt and they can be put back on again, but like. the brainrot. he'd look so cute fr fr ♦️

Author's Note: You must also be a mind reader, because I have been plagued with all sorts of scenarios like this. Either with a robot/android character having their innards played with, or robot/android reader. — All of that to say; I went with a mechanic reader doing some maintenance on Boothill, and things get a lil spicy 👀 (ended up making the reader a bit southern too??)

Pairings: Boothill x male reader

Warnings: Male mechanic!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Boothill, robo sex, robo genital functions, Boothill's goofy swearing, fingering, grinding, mild objectification

“What seems to be the problem?” You ask. The man on the other side of the desk rolls his shoulder back a few times, complaining of some joint issues.

“Alrighty, follow me. I'll take a look at'cha”

The cowboy follows you into an examination room. Various posters are taped to the walls — cheesy motivational posters and diagrams of machinery, mostly. He comments on them, saying that he appreciates a place like this, as opposed to the squeaky clean shops he'd been referred to previously. You chuckle and thank him for the compliment.

Some tools are pulled out and placed on a workbench next to the table. As you're prepping things, you tell your customer to remove any articles of clothing and have a seat on the table.

“Well shoot, at least take me to dinner first, darlin'!” He teases, smirking at you when you slowly turn your head around and playfully squint your eyes at his remark. Still, he does as he's told, and removes his cropped top, pants, hat. Literally everything is off, and he takes his seat, waiting patiently for you to begin.

“Lift this arm for me. Ok good. Now the other one.” You instruct him through a simple visual check. All four of his limbs seem to stutter through their movements, acting worse when he tries to rotate his legs.

“Ok... Um, I think this'll be an easy fix, but uh...”

“But what?”

“I... am going to need to detach all of your limbs to fix you–”

—

While your customer was clearly not used to a procedure like this one, he did a wonderful job of following your instructions so as not to damage anything while you're removing his appendages. All four of them detach smoothly, and you set them aside on a spare table until you'll need them again. With the heavy lifting out of the way, you're ready to go in for the delicate work of recalibrating his connecting joints.

“You know, you're probably one of my best customers.” you say as your fingers tug on one of the small wires buried deep within his hip socket, “Most people aren't too keen on doing it all at once. And even when it's two at a time, they squirm and babble anxiously.”

Boothill inhales sharply as the sensation of your hands literally inside of him stirs something within his belly. His lower lip is scored with the marks from his sharp teeth.

You tighten a few of the mechanisms in there, and he prays that you keep your eyes on your work, otherwise you'd see how stupid he must look as his eyelids droop and his mouth opens in a silent moan. It's taking all of his willpower to hold those sounds in.

“Geez, this one is crazy loose… do you uh, have regular maintenance done? Because you really sh-”

As you grip another wire and pull it, a compartment on Boothill's crotch suddenly opens up, revealing a fleshy, dripping hole.

If the cowboy still had legs at the moment, he'd be trying to close them and hide his arousal from you. Already, his breathing has become ragged and heavy, on the verge of making other, lewder sounds…

“Ah! O-oh I am so sorry–”

“Naw, s'okay…” Boothill slurs before the beginning of a moan, futilely attempting to hold composure that is clearly long gone by this point. He can't really buck his hips, but you can tell that that's what he's trying to do. You take the hint, and curiously move between his legs- or, what would be the area between his legs, anyway. He gives you permission immediately, almost begging to have this spot touched.

It's… strangely soft… humanlike in both appearance and touch. It's unclear whether this is human flesh or synthetic, but realistic flesh. Whatever it is, it has nerve endings of some variety, because Boothill whimpers as you prod around the edges of the opening. More liquid oozes out as you toy with him, gasping ooh's and aah's with a curious grin on your face. It's so much that you need to grab a couple towels and place them under his hips so it doesn't drip everywhere or seep into his open sockets. Seriously, it's like a waterfall after a couple minutes…

“You're sure this is ok? I'd hate to make you uncomfortable…”

The hole between his hips pulsates, opening up just slightly, as if it's inviting you inside.

“Darlin', please– you already had yer fingers inside of me today, just… put 'em back in.” The cowboy whines. And if a customer needs a little extra service, who are you to ignore them? Especially one as gorgeous as Boothill.

A rush of the sticky liquid comes pouring out when you push two fingers inside of his pretty hole.

“Fuck, not that I get around much, but I've never seen someone get so damn wet just from my fingers before. Is it always like this?”

A quiet 'mm-mm' is his response. His head flies to either side as your fingers sink in up to the knuckle, effortlessly, thanks to his built-in lube. His hair is hanging off the other end of the table, swooshing around every time Boothill flings his head around. It's so pretty, you really wish it was between your fingers right now…

For now, your focus comes back to the multitude of wet noises coming from Boothill's hole. The towels under him have long since soaked up everything spilling from his entrance.

“M-more… gimme more–!!” he moans, squeezing his eyes shut.

Removing your fingers, his hole squirts out a bit of liquid, and he resembles a sad puppy until he notices you removing your clothes. When your hard-on is more visible, Boothill drools at the sight.

You free your cock and give it a few pumps, licking your lips as your eyes flick between the cowboy's fleshy entrance and his sweaty face. He returns your gaze with his own obvious lust, lolling his tongue out once you touch him again.

It's incredibly soft and wet on your dick. You rub your length against the opening a few times, grinding against him and imagining how it will feel once you're inside–

“Shi- fuck! Mm that's tight, cowboy. Holy shit.” You exclaim, almost going cross-eyed from pleasure as his hole squeezes you so good. It doesn't take long for you to grab his hips and thrust like your life depends on it.

“Goddamn, yer like some hi-tech fleshlight! Oh yeah, take that dick! Take it, slut.” Mechanical wheezing is the only sound coming from Boothill now, unable to speak as you pound his hole mercilessly. In a moment of animalistic lust, you crawl up on the table and fuck him like a sex doll, curling over his body with your own and pistoning your hips, drilling into his gushing entrance as he squirts heavily.

You groan right into his ear, “M'gonna cum in you now- is that ok?” Boothill rapidly shakes his head, shivering at the way your breath hits his earlobe. Within seconds you're fucking your seed further into his squishy hole, ramming in so deep you make the cowboy's eyes roll completely back, and he exhales a shaky “Fork yeah~”. It's hard not to chuckle at the ridiculousness of what he said, but coming down from your high takes most of your energy — including the energy to realize that this man did just say "fork yeah" when you came inside of him……

His hole is still greedily sucking your juices in, and you can already feel yourself humping the glorified fleshlight that is your customer. Needless to say, this repair will take longer than you planned…

[songbirddoodles]

If I made a side blog exclusively for self ship purposes would you guys (all 4 of you) promise to pretend it doesn’t exist. Be honest

[alpaca-clouds]

How to cook in a medieval setting

Alright. As some of the people, who follow me for a longer while know... I do have opinions about cooking in historical settings. For everyone else a bit of backstory: When I was still LARPing, I would usually come to LARP as a camp cook, making somewhat historically accurate food and selling it for ingame coin. As such I know a bit about how to cook with a historical set up. And given I am getting so much into DnD and DnD stories right now, let me share a bit for those who might be interested (for example for stories and such).

🍲Cooking at Home

First things first: For the longest time in history most people did not have actual kitchens. Because actual kitchens were rather rare. Most people cooked their food over their one fireplace at home, which looked something like what you see above. There was something made of metal hanging over the fireplace. At times this was on hinges and movable, at times it was set in place. You could hang pots and kettles over it. When it came to pans, people either had a mount they would put over the fire or some kind of grid they could easily put into place there with some sourts of mounts (like the two metal thingies you can see above).

If you have a modern kitchen, you are obviously used to cook on several cooktops (for most people it is probably four of them), while in this historical you obviously only had one fire. Of course, as you can also see in the picture above, you could often put two smaller pots over the flames or put in a pan onto the fire additionally. But yes, the way we cook in modern times is very different.

Because of this a lot of people often ate stews and soups of sort. You could make those in just one pot - and often could eat from the same stew for days. In a lot of taverns the people had an "everything stew" going, which worked on the idea that everyone just brought their food leftovers, which were all put into one pot everyone would eat from.

Now, some alert readers might have also noticed something: What about bread and pastries? If you only have one fireplace and no oven, how did people make bread?

Well, there were usually three different methods for this. The most common one was communal ovens. Often people had one communal oven in a neighborhood. Especially in a village there might just be a communal oven everyone would just put their bread in to bake. (Though often this oven would only be fired up once or twice a week.)

The second version to deal with this some people used was a sort of what we today call a dutch oven. A pot made either of metal or clay with a lit you would put into the hot coals and then put bread or pastries into that, baking it like that.

There was also a version where people just baked bread in pans on the fire, rotating the bread during the baking process. At least some written accounts we have seem to imply. (Never tried this method, though. I have no idea how this might work. My camp bread was mostly done in dutch ovens or as stickbread.)

Keep in mind that the fireplace at home was very important for the people in historical times. Because it was their one source of warmth in the house.

🏕️ Cooking at Camp

Technically speaking cooking at camp is not that different - with the exception of course that you have to drag all your supplies along. And while in Baldur's Gate 3 and most other videogames you can carry around several sets of full-plate armor and several pounds of ingredients so that dear Gale can whip something up... In real life as an adventurer running around you need to make decisions on what to take along.

If you have read Lord of the Rings, you might remember how many people have criticized Sam for actually dragging all his cooking supplies along and how sad he was for not being able to cook for most of the time, because they were very limited in taking ingredients along.

So, yes, if you are an adventurer who is camping out in the open, you will probably need to do a lot of hunting and gathering to eat during your travels. You can take food for a couple of days along, but not for a lot.

A special challenge is of course, that while you can cook food for several days when you are at homes, you do not want to drag along a prepared stew for several days. So usually you will cook in smaller batches.

A lot of people who were journeying would often just take along one or two pots along.

So, what would you eat as an adventurer travelling around while trying to save the world from some evil forces? Well, it would depend on the time of the year of course. You would probably hunt yourself some food. For example hares, birds or squirrels. Mostly small things you can eat within one or two days. You do not want to drag along half a dead deer. In the warm months you might also forrage for all sorts of greens. You also can cook with many sorts of roots. Of course you can also always look into berries and other fruits you might find.

Things you might bring with you might be salt and some spices. A good thing to bring along would be herbs for tea, too, because I can tell you from experience that water you might have gotten from a river does not always taste very well - and springs with fresh water are often not accessible.

Now, other than what you can access the basic ideas of camping fires and cooking with them has not changed in the last few thousand years. While modern people camping usually have a car nearby and hence will have access to a lot of ingredients. But the general ideas of how to build a fire and put a pot over it... has not really changed.

So, yeah.

Just keep in mind that for the most part in historical settings until fairly recently, there was not much terms of proper kitchens. People cooked over an open fire and hence had to get at times ingenius about it.

[bigfatbreak]

more mlp au dumps

3 am palette cleanser. tis the season

additional fun for my dorky ass twibra au... twilight's friends mimic the elements of harmony in a way that reflects the magic of their pony selves (bc I said so lmao) and it's what brings her back from the brink after principal cinch grenade tosses her little magical collector in her face and blasts her with equestrian magic

details:

Chrysalis represents generosity specifically because of how she's selfish on behalf of her friends. she's absolutely willing to dupe other people and manipulate them if she thinks it'll help out anyone in the squad, even if the fallout could be cataclysmic. This has led to a really bad reputation following her around, and though its not really unprecedented, her friends still keep her around as she means well. It's a bit hard training her out of fawning over other people to try and make them stay, but she just wants everyone well-fed and happy.

Stygian has the loyalty blessing because he's the real ride or die. He would rather physically staple himself to his friends than possibly lose them, especially since he was subject to losing a friend group in the past which left him deserted at a really bad time. Meeting Tempest around that time was the only thing that kept him going, and now he's fiercely protective of his new friend group.

Spike is laughter because I love him. puppy power

Tempest gets honesty because she's extremely blunt, even though sometimes its to the point of insulting, she genuinely just wants communication to be established at any cost. Her straightforward attitude is very effective at stopping Chryssie's schemes and keeping Stygian grounded, and she doesn't mind being an anchor for the team, especially since she used to be team captain on her volleyball team before she lost her arm. The sense of "these people need me" helps anchor her as much as it anchors them.

Sombra can be exceedingly kind, showering people in gifts and lavish trips, assisting them in whatever programs they're in, and he's more than willing to put the effort in and sacrifice things of his own if it means his friends will benefit from it - but it stops there. His kindness is wonderful only to those in his close circle, and most importantly, to Twilight.

though their dynamic sometimes isn't the healthiest, they're all recovering from friendship issues of their own - some done to them, some because of what THEY did to others - and Twilight's the precious sun they seem to rotate around, as being a shut-in only focusing on her studies has given her zero inclination to have any sort of preconceived notions of other people. For friends with a bad past they're trying to work through, its incredibly refreshing, and they would rather die than lose her.

even more additional details:

Sombra collects pretty minerals, and wears a lot of jewelry as a result. He often compares Twilight to precious stones and seems smug about dating her.

Tempest and Stygian are room mates, but they're not dating, sharing a purely platonic relationship. (Stygian is gay and Tempest is a lesbian. they're each other's beards, basically)

Chryssie lives in an apartment Sombra pays the rent to, but only under the agreement that she stop dating people just to raid their houses. It's worked so far, at least according to CCTV footage

once the magic Twilight absorbed disperses into the team, giving them magic, Spike gets dragon attributes along with being able to talk. This means sometimes he eats Sombra's fancy gemstones and there's absolutely nothing he can do about it because if he yells at his gf's dog/little brother he'll get smacked. Sombra is in hell but everyone else loves it

[solarmorrigan]

( @nitro502-the-sequel​‘s tags on this post made me ugly laugh and then I had to write something, I hope that’s okay??)

Wait, no, this is hilarious, hold on

Steve drops Eddie off at home later that night, where Wayne is awake and puttering around in the kitchen making what might possibly be lunch (he tends to keep overnight hours even on his days off, so as not to completely fuck his sleep schedule, but hell if Eddie can keep track of what time of “day” it is for him).

Wayne gives Eddie a nod of acknowledgement and turns back to the pan he’s stirring on the stove. “How was your–”

“HE CROCHETED ME A SCARF.”

This was a little louder than Eddie had meant to be, but Wayne, to his credit, doesn’t even flinch. He turns back to look at where Eddie is standing in the middle of the living area, clutching the ends of the aforementioned scarf like it’s a towel at the end of the world.

“Who did?”

“Steve.”

“Huh,” is all Wayne says. “Is crocheting the thing with the…?” He holds his fists out in front of him, rotating them at the wrists like he’s rowing a very tiny boat.

“No, that’s knitting. Apparently, they’re different,” Eddie says, brows raised and hands held up in front of him, like he can fend off the ghost of Steve’s surprisingly enthusiastic lecture on the subject. “Crocheting is with a hook, like–” Eddie holds out one curled fist, trying to demonstrate, but it mostly just looks like he’s either stabbing something or failing to pick up some invisible spaghetti. He gives up and flutters his hands in front of himself, clearing the image. “He showed me – never mind, it’s – you’re missing the point!”

“And I’m sure you’re gonna tell me what that is,” Wayne says, turning back to the stove before the beans (Eddie’s pretty sure it’s beans he’s smelling) start to burn.

“Steve crocheted me a scarf,” Eddie enunciates, because putting the proper emphasis on certain words will definitely solve the problem.

Wayne just hums. “Well, that was nice of him. Lord knows I can never get you to wear anything warm.”

Eddie groans, clutching at this scalp and then running his hands through his hair. He’s at least seventy-five percent certain Wayne is being obtuse on purpose.

“But what am I supposed to do about it?” he laments.

“Wear it, I’d say,” Wayne replies. “Can I see it?”

Eddie hesitates for a second, because it’s his scarf and Steve made it for him, and he doesn’t want anything to happen to it when he hasn’t even had it for twenty-four hours, but then he decides he’s being ridiculous, because if he can trust anyone with his stuff, it’s Wayne. He unwinds the scarf from around his neck and passes it over.

Wayne’s brows go up as he looks over the close, even stitches, running his fingers over the little ridges Steve somehow made with yarn. He nods appraisingly. “It’s nice,” he says, handing it back.

“Right?” Eddie tosses it back around his neck with a sigh.

“Did you say thank you?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, before thinking back over the moment when Steve had told him that the scarf was for him. “…more or less.”

Wayne shakes his head, turning back to his food with some unfavorable mutter about Eddie’s manners.

“Okay, but I think you’re still not seeing the problem here,” Eddie insists.

“Looks like the problem is that you’re having a conniption over a scarf in the middle of the damn living room,” Wayne shoots back.

“No, that’s– well I mean– no,” Eddie sputters. “Okay, look, what would you do if a girl made a scarf for you?”

Wayne pauses, and Eddie loves his uncle with his whole shriveled heart, but it is always funny watching him try to shift gears when he realizes they’re talking about gay things now.

“Well,” Wayne says slowly, “pretty sure I’m a little too old to have any girl knitting me a scarf.”

“Oh my god,” Eddie groans. “Fine! A mature woman, then. Work with me here!”

Eddie gets a raised eyebrow at the mature woman comment, but Wayne lets it slide. He tilts his head consideringly as he spoons some beans out onto a plate by the stove, where he’s already got toast waiting. He tilts the pan at Eddie, wordlessly offering, and Eddie shakes his head.

“I suppose I’d have to get her something in return,” Wayne finally says. “Or make her something, if I was the creative type.”

Eddie gets another pointed look at those last two words, and he groans again, letting his head fall back in defeat, because he’d been afraid that would be the answer.

“I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to make. It’s not like I can make him warm clothes or do anything useful,” Eddie says, so caught up in the sudden and dramatic realization that all of his hobbies are entirely useless that he doesn’t manage to duck in time when Wayne gives him a not-entirely-gentle smack on the back of the head as he passes by into the living room.

“Stop that. The things you make are just fine. It doesn’t have to be useful, it just has to be thoughtful,” Wayne says, settling into his chair. “So quit standing around whining and go come up with something you can make to woo your boy.”

“Oh my god.” Eddie covers his face, even though Wayne will definitely already know he’s gone red. “You’re actually the worst. I don’t know why I talk to you.”

“You’re welcome for the advice,” Wayne drawls.

“Yeah, yeah.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand at him, but the quick “thanks” he throws out afterwards is entirely sincere.

He retreats to his room after that; apparently, he has some thinking to do.

[Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue | Ao3]

[makethemhoesmad]

thank you mommy- a.f.

@iminlovewithpaigebueckers and i writing duos to push the mommy azzi agenda

—

“princess, you’ve actually been working on whatever the fuck this is for houurrss” azzi whines from my bed. she’s referring to the studying i’ve been doing, which she is absolutely pissed about. 

“sorry baby, you can go to bed if you want?” i’m gonna be up for quite a while still, and there’s no point keeping her awake too.

“no,” she crosses her arms and pouts, “i don’wanna go to sleep without you princess” 

i roll my eyes and turn back to my computer. i really can’t afford to lose time, even if it’s with azzi. i’m so engrossed in the material i’m reading i don’t notice azzis gotten up and moved under my desk until i feel her warm hands separate my thighs. 

“mm, az, whatcha doin?” i whimper out. i’m only wearing a t-shirt, her t-shirt.

“shh, ignore me pretty. since all you wanna do is study, go ahead”

i try to turn back to my material, but my mind is anywhere but biology when i feel azzis tongue on my clit through my panties. the words blur in front of me as her fingers come up and pull my panties off. her tongue immediately sweeps between my folds, making me wriggle.

“ah, azzi, i can’t focus when you’re uh- doing that”

she doesn’t answer besides letting out a guttural groan that vibrates my core. i cry out, feeling something in my stomach give out. as im about to question her, beg, do something, i feel two of her long fingers stretch me open. i move my hand down to grab the back of her head, and she grabs it and puts it back onto the desk. i grumble in protest.

“a second ago you were gonna make me sleep on my own because you were studying. did that change because i made you cum? is that what i’m good for” as she spits those words out, her fingers hit a spot and im coming again. she stuffs her fingers into my mouth, and i lick them clean eagerly.

“okay, slut, listen. you’ve ignored me all fucking day to study, and now that i get so desperate for you i have to take matters into my own hands, then you decide you want me? do you want to go back to your work, or do you wanna make mommy proud?”

i try to stand up, but azzi presses her hands firmly against my thighs to prevent me. 

“i want you to tell me which one you want, alright?”

i shift in my chair, trying to hide how turned on i am. she takes her fingers out of my mouth, letting me speak freely.

“i wanna make you proud mommy, please.”

she grins, taking her hands away from me and dropping her pants, showing that she’s wearing nothing under them. 

“okay pretty, i want you sitting naked on the bed in thirty seconds, or you’ll be making love to those papers for the next week.”

she disappears into my closet, giving me limited time to rip off my shirt and lean against the pillows on my bed. azzi comes out, having discarded her top and slipped on something i know well, her strap.

“well, don’t you look pretty, mommy’s little slut all ready for me.” she sits on the edge of the bed and pulls me towards her, lifting me onto her lap, right on the strap.

“so good for me, warming my cock and looking so fuckable for me princess” i whine at her words, leaning my face into her shoulder and taking mouthful, while rotating my hips over her. she moves her hands from where they were sitting, on my waist, to cup my tits. she keeps her hand around one, and brings the other to her lips. just as she closes them around it, she jumps her hips up. i cry out, feeling a knot form in my stomach. she releases my nipple and pushes me down onto her, causing moans to fall from my lips. i come for the third thing tonight and fall against azzi, exhausted.

“good fucking girl, riding my cock like it’s fucking yours” 

i grunt against her, pressing my face into her neck as a sign that id like to go to sleep. she pulls me off of her lap, causing me to groan at the emptiness inside of me. she slips off her strap, walking it to the bathroom for us to clean in the morning. 

“okay princess, one more thing”

i groan, not sure i can take anything more,when she slowly slots our legs together as she pushes me down. I can feel our wetness pressing against each other as her hips grind her onto me. the pleasure that washes through my body is euphoric and entirely overstimulating. i can barely keep my eyes open as they grow heavy with the need for sleep and the overstimulation combating the need for her to never, ever stop. Her hands hold me down at the waist as she rides my clit with no mercy. my body quickly begins to spasm as i reach another orgasm. “baby i need you to wait for me” she whines at the pressure of our grinding clits brings her closed. Tears brim in my eyes as I hold on desperately. It takes her a few more moments to reach her finish. “Be a good girl and cum for mommy like the perfect little slut you are.” As those words leave her lips, i falll apart. While my body shakes and my breathing finally starts to slow down, i feel hers start to do that same.

the bed was made earlier, so she moves us right under the blankets. azzi tucks her arms around me and puts her face against my stomach. the feel of her hot breath on me starts to lull me to sleep, along with a dull aching between my legs.

“thank you mommy,” i whisper, running a hand through azzis hair.

“you’re so welcome, my princess.

[byechristopher]

Quiet [0.2].

-MATT STURNIOLO SMUT.

PART ONE.

Author's note: Y'ALL, I have been gone for more than a month, oof.. anyways, I still love y'all. I like to believe that I am back now.. but we'll see. I am a very spontaneous bitch, you see. Enough with the rambling. Matt smut. Part two. Let's go. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: long, filthy smut, car sex in the middle of nowhere, matt is a dom, etc. Minors dni! Also, didn't proofread.

I hated how much I wanted more, straight away. I can still feel his fingers inside me and still, that isn't enough. Once the movie ended, he retained his embrace, a gesture I welcomed. The cool touch of his silver chain on the back of my neck and the gentle pressure from the rings on his fingers created a sensation, not quite reaching the point of discomfort.

"Tell them you gotta leave." Matt whispers in my ear and I realise that he wasn't lying earlier – we're going to his car. Good God.

I don't have to respond, not even nod, I just get up (after making sure I'm wearing my pants correctly, of course) and head to the kitchen, where my other friends are.

"Y'all, I'd love to stay for another movie but I have to leave. My roommate has locked herself out."

Lies, lies, lies. But I didn't care enough to feel bad, not when I was about to get eaten by Matthew.

Speaking of the devil, "I can take you home. I have to leave too anyway."

And with that, we were out of the apartment. Not wasting any time, we almost run towards the car and Matt starts driving almost right away. Despite still looking appealing, his hair appears noticeably more disheveled than earlier in the day, and he seems slightly flustered.

My hand lands on his clothed thigh gently, rubbing it up and down, and he gives me a warning glare, "I'm driving."

"I know." is the only thing I say before my hand travels up to his crotch.

He casts me a disapproving glance, yet he refrains from stopping me; he's curious about the extent of my boldness. What he doesn't know is that, in his presence, I disregard all limits. With that determination, I unzip his pants, gradually lowering both his pants and boxers to expose him. The image of Matt glancing between me, the road, and his attempts to drive with his dick hard against his tummy, is one that I doubt will ever fade from my mind.

I spit in my hand and wrap my fingers around his cock, earning a soft moan of relief from him. I start moving my hand up and down, rotating my wrist while looking at him.

"Be careful, Matty." I whisper, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek and I know he would probably fuck the shit out of me now if he could.

"Fuck.." he grunts, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel, his hips bucking.

I lean down to wrap my lips around the tip and he almost loses control; I give it a sloppy kiss and then pull away, returning back to my seat as if nothing happened.

Matt shoots me one of his infamous death glares before abruptly pulling over. His actions unfold too quickly for me to fully grasp; he hastily adjusts his pants and signals for me to shift to the backseat, a command I promptly follow.

Without uttering a word, I observe him as he exits the car and then moving to the backseat as well, internally appreciating the fact that he owns a large, spacious car. I am sitting on the middle seat, he hooks his fingers under my panties and pants, pulling them down and then completely taking them off.

"You think teasing me is funny?" he hums, he spreads my legs wide open, placing my feet on each seat, fully exposing me to him. His hands move underneath my butt, his fingers digging into the soft skin as he pushes my hips upwards – my pussy a breath away from his hungry mouth.

"You know, I kept thinking.." he whispers, his hands caressing my thighs, "..when you came on my fingers.." he continues, his fingers dangerously close to my core, "..how much I wanted your juices in my mouth instead." he looks at me, giving me a small smile.

"Matty, please.." I sigh, I can feel my wetness dripping down already.

"And you know, I get anything I want." he nods, his index finger pressing my clit, earning a loud moan from me. He starts rubbing small circles on it, placing soft kisses on the lips.

Now teasing my most sensitive part with his thumb, he leans in, sticking his warm tongue out to lick my wet entrance, moaning. With his fingers on each side of my pussy, he spreads it delicately as he presses his tongue flat against my clit, rubbing it while letting the tip of it poke my entrance.

"Matt.. fuck.. please!" you can hear a mixture of frustration, anticipation and pleasure in my voice, but it most certainly doesn't make Matt move faster.

"You're dripping, sweetheart." he chuckles, amused. His tongue reaches all the way down, and then up to my clit, eventually wrapping his lips around it and sucking it.

I let my head fall backwards, pulling my shirt up to reveal my breasts – I quickly grab both of them, pinching the nipples while Matt is licking hungrily down there, as if he hadn't eaten for days. He pushes his tongue inside of me and I almost cum right then and there; he notices that, so he takes his tongue out slowly and then shoves it back in. He keeps doing that while teasing my clit with his thumb.

"Yes, yes, yes.. please.." I plead and whimper, I don't exactly know what I'm pleading for.

I let go of one breast to grab a fistful of Matt's hair instead, tugging at it and pushing his head towards my core even more (not that it was even possible, Matt was practically buried in my pussy, tongue inside of me, his nose pressed against my clit). I can feel him moving his tongue, still fucking me with it as he rubs and pinches my clit with his fingers – his free hand moves to my other breast, squeezing it and smacking it.

"Matty.. Matty, I – I'm.. fuck!" I cry out but he never stops, "I'm cumming.. I'm – yes.." and with that last word, I shake and tremble underneath his touch, finally letting go on his tongue, which he embraces with love, making sure not a single drop of my wetness goes to waste.

"That's my baby.." he praises and if I wasn't so lost in pleasure, I would've blushed.

He carefully grabs my legs, placing them on his shoulders as he presses kisses all over my thighs, making sure I calm down before we do anything else.

"Matt.." I moan gently, looking at him.

"Don't look at me like that. Your voice already makes it hard for me." he hums, squeezing my legs every now and then.

"Can you sit down instead? I wanna taste you." my hands squeeze my breasts.

"Can I ever deny you when you're looking at me like that, hm?" it is a rhetorical question but it still makes me laugh.

I move to the other seat while he takes my place, quickly taking his pants and boxers off, leaving his with his hoodie on. Before i start anything, he cups my cheeks and pulls me closer, kissing my nose and then my lips. I get down on my knees, in the same place he was earlier, almost drooling at the sight of his cock. It looks big and hard, and wet, and red. Hell.

"Come on, baby." he encourages, smiling while his hand grabs my chin, bringing me closer.

I nod, smiling, leaning in to grab the base with my hand, bringing his cock closer to my mouth and then eventually wrapping my lips around it. I move my mouth up and down the tip, just to tease him a little, looking up at him as I push my head further down. The more of him I take into my mouth, the more it stretches around him, making me drool all over his dick.

"Mmm, princess, that's it. You can take it." I'm not sure if it's a statement or a disguised warning but I take it either way.

He cups my cheeks and pushes me down on him, my watering eyes struggling to maintain eye contact. He looks at me with pride, almost, as he keeps my head in place while moving his hips, pushing his cock in and out of my mouth. I choke and gag around him but thay doesn't stop me, nor him.

"I'm close.. fuck." he groans, biting down on his bottom lip as he lets go of my head, moving one arm behind the seat and grabbing my hand gently with his free hand.

I move my mouth up and down, sucking his cock hungrily while looking at him, almost feeling it throb in my mouth – my free hand squeezes his thigh and my other hand, squeezes his.

"That's it.. that's it.." he moans, "..open your mouth, stick your tongue out.." he orders and I obey, jerking him off instead, "I wanna see your pretty mouth filling with my cum." he says and I moan just at the thought.

I move my hand up and down his cock, mouth open and tongue sticking out just like he ordered, looking at him the whole time. With a loud moan and groan from him, I can feel his warm cum landing on my tongue, slowly but steadily filling my mouth.

"Fuck.. baby.." he moans, caressing my hair, not daring to look anywhere else but me, "..open your mouth, let me see." he says and I know he wants to see a clean mouth. So that's exactly what I show him; he grins, "mm, such a good girl, aren't you?" yet another rhetorical question but again, it makes me smile either way.

He leans in to grab me and pull me into his lap, hugging me close to him as he lets me bury my face into his neck, breathing in his delicious scent, "you good, darling?" he whispers.

"More than good." I mumble against his skin and I can feel him chuckle, his hands rubbing up and down my back, his lips placing kisses on my head.

"You taste amazing." he whispers to tease me and it works; I can feel the blush creeping up my cheeks and I'm glad he's not able to see me.

"So do you." he pulls away just a bit to give me a kiss on the lips.

[actiniumwrites]

hiya! if your requests are still open could i request a scenario any of the “immortal” characters (e.x: the archons & adepti) with a mortal!reader who exchanges a part of them to become immortal so that they don’t have to worry about leaving the character? the reader’s gender is up to you!

𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋 (𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄)

synopsis: in which you exchange your vision for immortality, determined to live an eternity with your lover

characters: venti, zhongli, scaramouche, and dainsleif x gn!reader

warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, crying, mentions of death and mortality, fear of death, mentions of morbid conversations, scaramouche might be a little ooc here, purposefully inaccurate depictions of how celestia and visions work

notes: um so this request was sent to me back in november of 2022, so, anon, i am very sorry it took me so long to write this. i loved the idea a lot so i hope you enjoy this. also i’m not 100% sure scaramouche is immortal, but he’s been around for centuries and isn’t human so we’re just going to assume he is 👍

Venti:

The wind was blowing softly as you walked up to the giant tree, Vennessa’s Tree. You could hear the faint sounds of a lyre playing an alluring tune among it. If your boyfriend was anywhere, it was here…or the bar.

An off key note made your eyes snap up from where you were watching the ground, not expecting him to have heard you so easily.

“Hello, my love!” Venti cheered.

“Hi, Venti,” you lovingly spoke softly, moving to sit down next to him. Your head carefully moved to rest upon his shoulder and he continued to play softly, although this time around, it was a different song — one of your favorites.

A smile pulled at the sides of your lips. It was the first one since you’d gotten back from your journey. The very same journey your boyfriend was unaware of.

When he finished playing it, Venti set the lyre down next to him against a tree root. His face turned serious, “Something’s wrong.”

“Is there?” you played dumb, unsure of how to bring up the topic at hand. Venti didn’t fall for it. He never did.

He began to scan over your body for any sign of injuries, afraid something bad happened. When he saw there was nothing there, his hands gently placed themselves on the sides of your cheeks so he could rotate your head. He smiled the whole time, but you knew he was just masking his concern.

“I can feel it,” he said slowly, eyes squinting as he looked far off into the distance, “something’s different.”

You tried to hold it back, but tears sprung to your eyes. There was no hiding it now, “Venti, I…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he hurriedly wiped your tears as you looked up at him, “it’s okay, I swear! You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just,” you sniffled. The tears weren’t from injuries or hurt feelings, but simply because you were overwhelmed. The entirety of your future was now uncertain aside from the fact that you could no longer face death. You had centuries ahead of you, and it wasn’t something you had before, “my vision. I traded it.”

“What? Why would you…” he mumbled, mind racing back and forth. You loved your vision. It was something you had worked so hard for as a child, a representation of your dedication. It wasn’t like you needed money or anything, so why would you get rid of it?

Through your tear filled eyes, you smiled, “You don’t have to worry anymore, Ven. All those years ahead, we can spend them together.”

“You…you’re…?” he breathed out heavily, realization hitting him all at once. A smile broke through his lips, happy tears of his own were beginning to form, “you did that for me?”

You nodded and he threw himself against you, embracing you tightly. In all the years he had been alive, Venti was sure he would be alone forever. But in life and death, you were with him forever.

Zhongli:

Zhongli hadn’t noticed right away.

He was perceptive, yes, but there didn’t seem to be anything amiss with you at first. You often hid things very well. It was one of the only things he didn’t like about you. If something were to go wrong because he wasn’t observant enough with you, Zhongli would feel perpetually guilty.

It wasn’t until weeks after your journey that he had finally realized something had changed.

You seemed normal for the past few weeks. There were a few moments where you were oddly fidgety or anxious, but he chalked it up to the fact that you had just gotten back from a work trip. Perhaps you were tired out from it. Plenty of people came back a little on edge from trips, he had seen it first hand.

When it became continuous, worries began to whisper in his ear. No, he hadn’t thought you cheated or did something bad. Zhongli knew you well enough to know you weren’t that kind of person. If anything, he was worried that something bad had happened to you. That maybe someone hurt you or there was something you couldn’t tell him.

So, he brought it up at dinner one day.

His hand reached across the table, warmly cupping it around yours. His thumb gently traced over the back of it, a soothing action he knew you loved. He inhaled and pursed his lips before bluntly asking, “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did, I want you to know you can tell me and I will take care of it.”

Your face morphed into confusion, awkwardly laughing at his wild assumptions, “I’m sorry, what? Where’d you get that idea?”

Zhongli retracted his hand from yours slowly. His face was now equally as confused as yours, “I apologize, my love. You have been acting rather off since your trip. I thought maybe something bad had happened or someone may have hurt you. Am I incorrect?”

Another awkward laugh fell from your lips before you sighed and averted your eyes to look out the window of the restaurant, “Yes, but nothing bad happened. I’ve just been a little…down about something.”

He furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head a bit to the side, “If you were feeling upset, you could have come to me. You know I hate to see you like that.”

“I know, I just,” you started hesitantly, “I wasn’t ready to tell you yet.”

“Tell me…what?”

The whirlwind of emotions you had been feeling over the past few weeks began to hit you harshly and you couldn’t stop the tears from forming in your eyes, “I traded my vision, Zhongli.”

He took a few seconds to process, but his hand grabbed yours again. He wasn’t sure what you were talking about, but the fact that you were crying was enough to scare him, “I…I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I made a deal with Celestia…to be come immortal. In exchange for immortality, they took my vision,” you explained slowly, staring down at the table.

Zhongli rose from his seat slowly before walking to your side of the table. He kneeled down beside you, a few tears springing at his own eyes as he looked directly into yours, “Why would you do that?”

“For you,” you breathed out happily, cupping his face as the tears fell from your eyes “I want to be with you forever, Zhongli.”

Zhongli rose a bit from his place on the floor. Cupping your face with his hands, he kissed you softly, yet eagerly. You could feel the love and passion with in it. All the sadness melted away in an instant.

He had witnessed so many of his friends and past lovers parish before him. Victims to time and mortality. But here you were, willing to sacrifice something you cared for so much to spend an eternity with him.

And in that moment, Zhongli realized he’s never loved someone as much as he’s loved you.

Scaramouche:

You were used to Scaramouche pushing you away when things got rough. Not because he was angry with you or tired of you, but because his emotions were too much to handle. The sadness was too much to bear.

The conversation of immortality had come up very often. A worry of his that he just couldn’t seem to shake.

What would happen when you were gone?

How was he supposed to move on?

Love someone else?

If Scaramouche was being honest, he knew there was no way he could love another. Not after you, the one person he’s ever truly loved and the only one he hasn’t lost. You understood and cared for him in a way that no one else ever had or ever could. Despite not having a real heart, his love for you was so strong enough to make him feel like he did.

When you left for some sort of trip, Scaramouche hadn’t been suspicious of anything. You claimed it was for your job — just a week long trip out of Sumeru to take care of some business. It seemed urgent, according to you at least. He understood and didn’t question any part of your story, even if it did have holes in it.

Although he didn’t show it outwardly, the week without you was rather miserable for him. Anytime you were gone, everything seemed to remind him of the centuries that he had been alone. The people he had watched die or turn on him and how weak he felt. It made him wonder, once again, how he could ever live without you.

When you returned days later, it was late at night. The lights to your shared home were turned off and everything was silent. You dropped your things inside, but before you could head to your room, you caught a glimpse of your boyfriend through the window. His hat was cast aside on the grass next to him where he was lying down. The wind was blowing his hair softly across his face as he gazed up at the stars, something you frequently did together.

Coincidentally, it was during those times that the topic of immortality would come up. The stars made Scaramouche sad when he peered up at them. Despite not believing in their genuine existence, he would hate to look up one day and find you among them. Far away from him. Mortality permanently holding you in its grasp.

You silently walked outside to where he was lying down, careful not to disturb him. You laid down next to him, gently taking his hand in yours. His fingers interlocked themselves with yours, but he didn’t bother to turn and look at you, already knowing who it was. When you looked to him, however, his eyes were glistening with small tears, the stars reflecting in them. He looked ethereal, but you hated how sad he looked — eyebrows furrowed, a frown pulling his lips downward.

“I’m not ready for you to leave,” he whispered painfully, voice cracking a bit as his eyes finally met yours.

You send him a fond smile, eyebrows turning upwards, “I’m not leaving anytime soon. You don’t have to worry.”

“But you will,” he started, a hint of anger laced his voice, directed at those who dared to take away the one thing he loved, “You’ll leave eventually. Just like everyone I’ve ever known. It’s only a matter of time.”

You sat up slowly, reaching into the pocket of your pants and grabbing something out. A flash of metal caught Scaramouche’s eye. He sat up instantly, recognizing what the mysterious object was.

It was your vision. The bright shining blue light it normally had was entirely gone, drained of power. Wordlessly, you handed it to him. He grabbed it, but looked up into your eyes with confusion. When he did, he finally noticed the exhaustion and dried tears all over your face.

“What is this?” He angrily inspected the grayed vision in his hands, “What happened to you? If someone hurt you, I swear to you, I’m going to kill them.”

“No!” you quickly exclaimed, interrupting his oncoming burst of anger, “No one hurt me. I did this myself.”

“Start explaining,” he demanded. Although he looked angry, you could see the worry and fear in his eyes.

“I’m tired of these conversations,” you hesitantly started, averting your eyes to a tree in the distance. You could feel your own sad frown pulling at your lips as you fidgeted with the vision he had returned to you. Inhaling, you continued, “If I’m being honest, I’m not okay with leaving you either. It tears me apart to see you like this, Scaramouche. It sounds selfish, but I…I don’t want to think of your life without me. Not when it’s already hurting you this much and I’m not even dead yet.”

You paused to wipe the tears that had unknowingly began to fall from your eyes. Gesturing to the vision, you explained, “The trip I went on wasn’t for work, and I’m sorry for lying to you about it. It was to make an exchange. By trading this with Celestia, I’m no longer mortal.”

Scaramouche’s eyes flickered back and forth between yours and the lifeless vision rested in your hands. A mix of anger, sadness, and relief hit him all at once. Years of memories flashed in his head from all the mistreatment in Inazuma, the Harbingers, and to his newfound life in Sumeru. But most importantly, he saw you and all the ways you’ve loved him ever since you found each other. His voice wobbled a bit, dancing between the lines of neutrality and sadness, “Why would you do that for me?”

You tossed the vision to the side and held his hand again, “My vision may have meant a lot to me, but nothing will ever mean as much to me as you do. I would trade everything I’ve ever owned to be with you forever if that’s how it had to be.”

The two of you laid back down together against the cool grass, staring back up at the stars. This time, however, his arms embraced you tightly. The stars seemed to shine a little more brightly, a little more beautifully. There was no chance for them to take you away from him anymore, and Scaramouche was forever grateful for that.

Dainsleif:

The burden of immortality sat heavily on Dainsleif’s shoulders. It was a curse he bore, but not one he would wish onto anyone else. It was painful, unkind, and often struck those who deserved it the least.

When you had found him, you were not originally aware of the fact that he had been among those who were affected by it. You knew he originated from Khaenri’ah, but you supposed he was like your old friend Kaeya, who was also from there, but was not a bearer of the curse.

Admittedly, it was difficult to be in relationship with Dainsleif at times because of it. He trusted you wholeheartedly, but there was always this lingering sense of doom in his eyes. There were times when he would get close with you, share his past and his deepest desires, but then he would pull away. It was a constant game of back and forth with him.

You were aware it was because he was scared, terrified even. Dainsleif had lived a long life of loss and sadness. He had failed in his duties as the Twilight Sword and, because of that, he was forced to witness the death and destruction of everyone and everything he loved around him. Anyone he had ever loved he had lost, and he couldn’t stand to watch that happen to you too.

You couldn’t bear it equally as much. Dainsleif was the best person to ever have come into your life. Someone you knew could never hurt you. Someone who showed you more love than anyone else ever had. Your love for each other was like no other. The only thing that could truly separate you from him would be death, and he would love you until that day came.

As painfully beautiful as that was, it saddened you to a degree that nothing else could. You did not want to lose him as much as he did not want to lose you. And so, you decided to lessen his punishment. Immortality was supposed to curse him with loneliness and suffering, but that loneliness wouldn’t exist if you were by his side for the rest of time.

You left as soon as possible, vision stored away in your satchel and a notebook in hand. It was your notebook that held your recipes. As a chef, there were all sorts of ingredients across Teyvat that you had to often import or travel to obtain. It was the perfect excuse to leave without him raising suspicion. Because, although Dainlsleif detested the Gods and Celestia, he would never let you do what you were about to do. Not for him, and not for anyone else. Not even for yourself.

It took you about a week to return.

Dainsleif noticed instantly something was different when you returned. It was a little past midnight. He was sitting at the table of your home, window open to his left to let the cool breeze sift through the house. He had been scribbling away at a map when the door walked open, and in walked you.

There were dark circles around your eyes, a conflicting look swirling within them. Part of you looked relieved, while the other part looked saddened. His eyebrows furrowed as you stumbled in through the doorway, whispering a small greeting to him. Quickly, he was by your side and hugging you dearly.

“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly, voice just barely above a whisper. You leaned against him, head tucked gently into his shoulder as you wrapped your arms around his abdomen. Silently, you nodded.

Dainsleif carefully brought you to the couch in the living room, sitting you down gently and setting your belongings on the small table in front of you. The breeze from the window drafted through again, strong enough to make you shiver. In an instant, Dainsleif was up and moving to shut it quickly so you could be warm and comfortable.

“Something’s wrong,” he started, hand moving to cup your face as you gazed into his eyes tiredly, “I know you aren’t just tired. So please, tell me what happened on your trip.”

You crumbled in an instant, unable to lie to his face, “I traded my vision. I’m sorry, I wasn’t actually going to get ingredients.”

Confusion settled even deeper into his blood as he stared at you, unable to comprehend what you were talking about, “Trade your vision for…what? Why would you need to trade your…oh.”

When he realized, you nodded carefully. The silence that followed suit scared you. You often had a hard time reading him, especially now.

His next reaction shocked you, however. Tiny traces of tears sprung to his eyes, threatening to pour over at any second. Your eyebrows furrowed, but before you could say anything, Dainsleif quickly leaned in and kissed you. Your eyes closed and you returned it, feeling the sadness, desperation, and love behind it. When he pulled away, you could see two or three tears had fallen from his eyes.

Gently, you wiped them away and hugged him tightly. He held you tightly in return, and silently, you both laid back against the couch. Exhaustion hit the two of you at once, knocking you out as you slept within each other’s arms. You had been exhausted from your trip and all the emotions you had felt from it. As for Dainsleif, his exhaustion from being cursed had eased up a bit on him. It him all at once, the realization and the lack of loneliness or worries he would have to deal with from now on. There was no more till death due you part, because finally, Dainsleif had you for forever and you had him.

[thenerdykneazle]

The Scriptorium

Summary: After a harrowing journey through Slytherin's Scriptorium, Ominis helps MC recover from being subjected to the torture curse. After all, he has personal experience dealing with its effects.

Ominis Gaunt x GN!MC

A/N: The fact that I haven't written and posted an Ominis one shot before this is a crime, honestly. Almost as much of a crime as it is that after the trauma that is the scriptorium, both boys just walk away at the end of the mission. So, I fixed it. Also, the first 2.4k of this is a description of the scriptorium mission. Most of the events/dialogue are straight from the game. So, feel free to skip ahead to the middle of this (once they're out of the scriptorium) if you don't need the refresher.

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, talks of child abuse, descriptions of being crucio'd, awkward teenagerness in general, MC is naked for part of it but it's not sexual (they just needed a bath, okay?), Sebastian is a walking red flag in this mission but that's not my fault

Word count: 4880

You wound down the dark staircase, descending into Slytherin’s scriptorium. Sebastian entered in after you.

“Dark ominous corridors. My favourite,” he quipped.

“No comment,” Ominis replied coolly as he followed you both.

“Come on, that was a good one,” Sebastian said jovially.

You held back a snicker.

The ancient corridor at the bottom was littered with shattered stone and ended in a sealed door. You found a note left by Noctua Gaunt. She had been here. You repaired the stone into a relief, which Sebastian pointed out showed a person facing a snake.

Ominis shifted anxiously on his feet. He explained the sinister voice he heard telling him to speak to it. He told you how he was a Parselmouth – someone who could speak to snakes. He was certain that speaking to the door would open it, but he was hesitant.

“I’m hoping you’re having second thoughts,” he admitted.

“I see no reason we should stop now,” you replied, unaware of how much you’d come to regret those words.

Ominis breathed out a defeated sigh. “It’s ironic. When I left home, I vowed to leave the Dark Arts behind. And yet, here I am…Stand back.”

You took several steps backward, and Ominis turned to face the door. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he muttered to himself.

You stared in awe as a low hissing came from your friend’s lips. The eyes of two of the snakes carved in the door illuminated with green light, and they slithered up around the frame. The door opened.

“It worked!” you said, stunned. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

“Between the two of you, I’m starting to feel left out,” Sebastian whinged light-heartedly.

Ominis’s brows drew together. “Between the two of us?”

“I – never mind,” Sebastian stuttered, realizing his slip.

You weren’t sure yet if you could trust Ominis with your secret. Professor Fig had asked you not to share details with anyone, and you’d already gone against that advice with Sebastian.

You entered into the next room and were met with a locked gate. Next to it was a dial with a statue of a snake atop it. Once you were all inside, the door you’d come through shut behind you. That was the first moment where you thought this might be a mistake. Sebastian pointed out another sealed gate. Ominis suggested inspecting them for clues on how to proceed forward.

You ducked through a half-opened gate and found another note from Noctua. Her description of feeling unwelcome in the scriptorium didn’t inspire confidence in you. Nearby was another dial. You lit the torch beside it and turned one of the large metal discs. A hissing emitted from the statue as it began to rotate. You flicked through the dial, studying the symbols. Both discs had the same pattern.

In a flash, the snake lunged at you, biting your jaw as you stumbled backwards.

“That didn’t sound good,” Ominis said.

“It’s fine,” you asserted, frustration edging into your voice as you wiped the blood from your face with your sleeve. You really should’ve expected something like that.

“Salazar Slytherin didn’t make this easy,” Sebastian observed.

Obviously, you thought as you rolled your eyes. You’d be more than happy to let him take a stab at the dial.

You returned to the other dial. The gate next to it had symbols carved into it, as well. You illuminated your wand and saw that they matched some from the dial. You wished you’d noted that earlier.

“I think matching the dial to the symbols on the gate will open it,” you said.

“It seems Slytherin liked to play games,” Ominis said thoughtfully.

“Must run in the family,” Sebastian quipped.

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian,” Ominis replied irritably.

You quickly aligned the symbols on the dial to the ones sealing the doorway next to it. The serpents on the metal gate shifted, and it raised automatically.

“Matching the symbols did open it,” you said, relieved. You had half expected to be bitten again.

“Was about to do that myself, but you got to it first,” Sebastian said.

You just shot him a waspish look.

He coughed awkwardly. “Nice work,” he said.

You shook your head before continuing forward. In a pit at the end of the corridor, you found a third dial along with another note from Noctua.

I failed the dial, and it struck my face as if it were a real serpent, she started. You scoffed to yourself. Yeah, thanks for the warning, you thought sarcastically as you dabbed at your stinging jaw. She continued on in her letter to decry the way their family forced dark magic on their children.

“Ominis, your aunt wanted to change your family’s traditions,” you said.

“She did,” he confirmed in a wistful voice. “And she was my favourite person in the world for it.”

You felt a pang of sorrow for your friend. He’d lost the only member of his family that had ever been decent to him. You hoped for his sake that this adventure would provide answers as to what happened to her.

You went back to the main room, checking the symbols on the other gate that was still sealed. You went back to the dial that’d bitten you. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you shifted the discs. There were two dials and only one door. You couldn’t be certain which went with it. You were relieved when you heard the metal clanking of the gate opening, letting out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

“That sounded promising,” Ominis said.

“Another dial solved,” you replied gleefully as you searched for another door.

“Impressive. Nice work,” Ominis’s silky voice called out almost reverently from the dark.

You chuckled at how similar yet distinct the two Slytherins were, complimenting you with the same words but in entirely different ways.

You entered the newly opened archway. You read yet another note left behind by Noctua, warning of painful challenges but telling of rewards, as well. You relayed the information to your companions.

“Painful – that’s the part I’m wary of,” Ominis said, sounding nervous.

“All I heard was rewards. Keep going,” Sebastian replied with a flippant fort of confidence.

Sure enough, there was another gate at the back of the new room. You wound your way back to the remaining dial and shifted it to match the final gate. Once you aligned the discs, the gate opened with a hiss. You downed a wiggenweld to heal your gashed chin now that you weren’t likely to be bitten again. Hopefully.

“Excellent work,” Sebastian said brightly. “We’re another step closer to the scriptorium.”

Sebastian was just outside the archway when you made it back. “I spotted something ahead,” he said, fear edging into his voice for the first time. “Looks troubling.”

“This whole place is troubling, but, for my aunt’s sake, we cannot stop now,” Ominis replied.

You noted privately that you couldn’t really stop even if you had wanted to. Having only one way forward, the three of you crept into the newly revealed corridor. You had a sinking feeling in your stomach as you stepped inside.

Curiously, the torches lining the space were already lit. More clanking rang out behind you.

“The gate!” Sebastian said in a panicked tone. “I think we’re locked in. Again.”

“Then Salazar Slytherin is not yet finished with us,” Ominis said dismally.

You were inclined to agree. You couldn’t help but think that Noctua’s optimism about the Hogwarts founder was misplaced. You approached the door at the end of the corridor, feeling a cold wash over you like walking through a ghost.

Your heart dropped as you spotted the bones lying in front of the door, right next to the word ‘crucio’ in glowing letters. On the other side of the skeleton, you found another note. With shaking hands, you reread how to proceed. You looked again at the remains of Ominis’s aunt. You felt like you were about to be sick.

“Ominis. A skeleton…And Noctua’s last journal entry. She mentions being trapped here – blocked by an Unforgivable Curse,” you said, unable to bring yourself to put it more directly.

Ominis looked shattered. “This…is where she died,” he said in disbelief. He began pacing in anger. “This is where we’ll die. I shouldn’t have listened to either of you.”

His words struck harder than you would’ve expected.

“Ominis, I’m truly sorry about your aunt,” Sebastian said. “But, I know what to do. It’s going to be difficult.”

You raised an eyebrow at the brunet. You discussed the matter with him. He voiced aloud what you already knew. The only way out was casting the cruciatus curse. Something only one of you had done before. Sebastian implored you to talk to Ominis.

You had already convinced him to go into this despicable place. You couldn’t ask him to cast an unforgivable, too. Sebastian steeled himself to confront him.

“Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do–” Sebastian started.

“Yes! It is! I thought you knew me better!” Ominis spat back.

“But this is different,” Sebastian insisted. “Whoever you cast it upon will have agreed to it first. It wouldn’t be an innocent ‘victim.’ We have to open the door.”

“The spell won’t work unless you mean it,” Ominis said. “That’s true of all unforgivables. If it must be done, then one of you must cast it.”

“What do we do now?” you asked Sebastian. “Ominis is not going to cast the cruciatus curse again.”

“Ridiculous!” Sebastian groused. “As if dying in here is a better option than casting a damned spell.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s up to us. I can teach you crucio, or I can cast it on you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait – you didn’t say you knew how to cast crucio,” you said.

Sebastian pursed his lips. “Because I’m not sure I do,” he replied. “Ominis knows that, yet he’s left us no choice. I don’t yearn to follow in Noctua Gaunt’s footsteps.” He glanced down at the remains. “I think I can cast it if I have to.”

Your stomach twisted at the thought of casting the curse. The hatred required. “I don’t want to learn the curse, but I can handle the pain,” you said more confidently than you felt. “It’s fine. Cast it on me.”

“I shan’t forget this,” Sebastian vowed. He swallowed thickly. “Ready?”

You nodded. “I’m ready,” you said, though your trembling voice betrayed how untrue that was. How could you be ready for such a thing?

Sebastian raised his wand. “Crucio!” he said quickly, before he could lose his nerve.

A red bolt erupted from his wand and struck you. You crumpled to the floor as blinding pain flooded through your whole body. You cried out. It was like molten shrapnel had exploded out from within you, shredding your muscles, tearing apart your organs, and splintering your bones.

“Are you all right?” Sebastian asked, his voice was scared and distant.

You could barely make sense of the words as your senses were overtaken. The red jet arced from you to the door, and it melted away. Jolts of pain still crackled through you as you pushed yourself onto your feet. You struggled to pull air into your lungs.

“A-are you all right?” Ominis asked, clearly shaken.

“That pain,” you groaned. You looked at Ominis’s horrified expression and felt guilt stab into you at the trauma he must be relieving. You couldn’t imagine going through that so young. “It was excruciating, but I’ll survive. Let’s keep moving.”

You just wanted out of there.

Sebastian was enraptured as he entered the room – as if it were sodding Honeydukes and not the lair of a dark wizard. Ominis edged cautiously inside, as well. For once, the door didn’t slam behind you.

You found an old tome and informed Sebastian and Ominis.

“You found something?” Sebastian asked excitedly.

“You two go ahead – let me know what’s in it,” Ominis said, voice still quavering. “I’ll wander around a bit.”

You were about to check on him, but Sebastian appeared at your side. “May I have a look?” he asked, gesturing to the book in your grasp. You handed it over.

“What do you think?” you asked.

“Looks like a spellbook of some kind,” Sebastian replied eagerly. “This is incredible! A Hogwarts founder’s possession – what an honour.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe Ominis never told me about his aunt and what she found.”

You could. In fact, you wished he’d never brought it up – and that you’d never pushed him on it. “What will you do with Slytherin’s spellbook?” you asked, aiming for a casual tone. Really, you were nervous about his intentions.

Sebastian gave you a playful grin. “What I do with every book – read it! Having professors as parents ingrained that habit early on,” he said lightly. “But I can do that later. For now, I say we explore this room. It’s breathtaking.”

You didn’t feel the same eagerness Sebastian showed – perhaps because he wasn’t the one who had just been tortured. Still, it was a bit shocking to see him so chipper after casting an unforgivable on you mere minutes ago.

“I’ve been getting an uneasy feeling about this place,” Ominis called anxiously up to you both. “We shouldn’t linger here. Let’s find a way out, please.”

Sebastian chuckled. “I don’t want to leave, but I owe you – both of you,” he said. “Without both of you, we’d never have made it this far.”

“We were lucky – we could have died!” Ominis said seriously. “We must swear never to do this again.”

You saw Sebastian roll his eyes. You picked up a note lying on the desk as you tried to shove down your irritation with the boy.

“I see a way out!” Sebastian announced.

“Best news I’ve heard all day,” Ominis replied, breathing a sigh of relief as he climbed the stairs.

You all exited through the hidden doorway.

“Ominis, about your aunt–” Sebastian started as he emerged from the wall back into the dungeon corridor.

“Please, Sebastian,” Ominis cut him off. “I meant what I said before. We swear right now never to engage in anything to do with dark magic again!”

“Understood,” Sebastian replied immediately, much to your surprise. “I’m truly sorry about your aunt, Ominis.”

“I suppose, after all this, I am grateful to know what happened to her,” he said quietly. He turned to you. “Thank you.”

You didn’t know what to say. Sebastian hurried off, probably to go delve into the book. Ominis leaned against the wall, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as he tried to process the night’s events.

You chewed your lip. “Ominis, I’m so sorry I dragged you down there. I hadn’t imagined we’d end up trapped like that,” you said sincerely.

He pushed off the wall, stepping toward you. “Salazar Slytherin did,” he replied darkly. “He’s to blame for many unimaginable things.”

You felt a new wave of fear at Sebastian having his spellbook.

“I’m just glad we made it out of there,” he continued. “How are you doing? The cruciatus curse is pure torture – I would know.”

You nodded. “I’m fine. Sebastian told me a little of what happened when you were young,” you said. “Sounds as if you had no choice.”

Ominis sighed. “Should’ve known he would’ve told you,” he muttered. “And one always has a choice. I’m as guilty as the worst of my family. Like I said, unforgivable curses won’t work unless you really mean them. I had to want to cause pain, and for that I shall never forgive myself. I will regret casting it forever.”

You flinched as you thought of the pain that had surged through you less than half an hour ago. Sebastian had wanted you to feel it. You couldn’t imagine feeling that way toward him or Ominis, especially now that you knew what it was like.

Warm fingers slipped into your hand, and you looked up to see Ominis’s brow furrowed in concern. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I should’ve insisted we found another way out. Really, I shouldn’t have told Sebastian about the scriptorium in the first place. I am glad to know what happened to my aunt, but…not at your expense.”

You swallow thickly as you stared up at his kind face. “I’m all right, really,” you said.

He arched a brow at you. “Don’t lie to me,” he said firmly. “I can feel your hand shaking.”

You realized he was right. Your muscles were twitching with aftershocks from the curse. You suspected they had been since Sebastian’s curse released. You were just so out of sorts that you hadn’t noticed. “Oh,” you said dimly.

Ominis laced his fingers with yours. “Let’s get you some tea and a blanket. You must be freezing,” he said.

You were freezing, you realized. Ominis led you into the Slytherin common room. You just followed him numbly. It was like your body had reacted to the pain by shutting off your senses. Your mind had been overwhelmed. You felt like you were moving through fog now.

Before you knew it, you had a hot cup of tea in your hands and a blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Ominis rubbed slow circles on your back. His touch grounded you, keeping you from slipping into the recesses of your mind.

“Is this how you felt after?” you asked, turning your glazed eyes toward Ominis.

He stiffened, his hand freezing in place, as his features contorted in a grimace. You could see his throat bob as he swallowed.

“Sorry,” you said quickly. “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Ominis shook his head. “I expect so,” he said thoughtfully, answering your question. “I would have a tremor and feel a numbing cold. One of our elves tended to me after the first time. My mother locked me in my room, and he brought me tea and tucked me into bed with extra blankets even though she’d instructed them to leave me alone. He…He also knew how it felt.” His jaw tensed. “My family distributes their cruelty quite generously.” He spat out the last sentence like venom.

You felt tears prick your eyes. “I’m sorry you both went through that,” you said.

He just nodded.

“The numbness wears off after a while,” he said as he resumed the languid circles on back. “Then it’s like…your senses are frayed. Everything is just…too much. Noise. Scents. Everywhere is too hot or too cold. Even clothes are…Well, you get the idea.”

His cheeks were coloured pink.

“How long until that starts?” you asked. It sounded dreadful.

“Maybe an hour from now?” he said. He cleared his throat. “I found that a warm bath in a quiet room helps. Not hot but body temperature. It’s almost like floating in nothing. I expect you’d want the room dark, as well, but I really wouldn’t know.”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but laugh, as well. You sipped your tea, and you felt yourself relax slightly as the warm liquid slid down your throat. A shiver ran through you, and you tucked into Ominis’s side, resting your head on his shoulder.

He was caught by surprise, but he quickly wrapped his arm around you, holding you tightly to himself. He even rested his head on top of yours.

You stayed like that for a long time. Ominis traced his wand down a schoolbook with the hand not holding you. He checked in every once in a while to make sure you hadn’t run out of tea, casting a charm to refill your cup when needed. Slowly, your tremor subsided and your body warmed. The cold nothingness that had enveloped you was eventually replaced by a sort of static. It was barely noticeable at first, but it grew more and more grating. You felt stifled between the fire, blanket, and Ominis’s warm body next to you. You had to set your tea down because it was scalding. Your uniform scratched like sandpaper over every inch of your skin. The crackling of the flames and students speaking in low voices grew louder until the noises pounded in your ears. The dim common room seemed blindingly bright. Even the usually calming scent of Ominis’s cologne was an attack on your senses.

You groaned as you curled into yourself. Ominis scooted away from you, and you felt a pang of guilt at the relief it gave you.

“Let’s get you that bath,” Ominis said quietly as he tucked his book into his bag.

He grabbed your sleeve and tugged you to the lavatory. You cast a charm to block the windows. Only the faintest light filtered through. You sagged against one of the sinks, holding your frazzled head in your hands. Ominis filled a tub with a water-making charm, knowing the rush from the taps would be deafening. He heated the water with another spell, dipping his hand it to ensure it was the right temperature. He even set out a towel for you.

“All set,” he said gently. “I’ll relock the door on my way out so no one disturbs you.”

“Could you…stay?” you asked sheepishly.

You could just make out Ominis’s eyes as they widened. “Oh,” he squeaked. “Erm, yes, I suppose so. Are you sure you want me to?”

“I’d rather not be alone,” you admitted, wincing at your own voice as it seemed to boom out from you. “And, well, it’s not like you can see anything…right?”

He chuckled softly. “You’re correct,” he whispered.

He moved to a window seat on the far wall, and you slipped out of your robes. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, your cheeks flushed as you stood naked in a room with Ominis in it. The cold air was like ice on your skin. You quickly climbed into the bath. It was like applying a balm to a sunburn. You really did feel wrapped in nothing as you were surrounded by water exactly the same temperature as you. You closed your eyes, shutting out the last bit of light.

You felt the tension that had been mounting melt out of your body. The only sensations aside from the cool air on your face were the sound of your own breathing and occasional turn of a page as Ominis read. You couldn’t even hear his breaths from where he sat.

With time, your breathing stopped seeming so loud and you stopped noticing the temperature of the room as much. The water in your tub was exactly as warm as it’d been when you slipped inside. You realized Ominis must’ve charmed it to stay that way. He was quite a talented wizard.

You sat up a bit in the tub, leaning your head back on the edge of it, but you kept your eyes closed. You weren’t ready to take in visual stimuli again just yet. “Ominis?” you asked, pleased when the word didn’t ring in your ears.

“Yes, MC?” he replied quietly.

“Thank you. For helping me. It…it would’ve been awful to go through this alone,” you said.

There was a pause before he answered. “I’m sorry you have to go through it at all.”

You opened your eyes to look at him. “It’s not your fault,” you said. You turned, hooking your elbow over the side of the tub as you faced him. “I’m the one who convinced you to go down there.”

“Yes, but I should’ve known better,” he said sadly. “I just…I was so consumed by the need to know what happened to my aunt. I went against my better judgment. It won’t happen again.”

“Same here. I have no interest in investigating anything to do with Slytherin again,” you replied. “I hope Sebastian meant it when he said he’s done.”

“He’s never lied to me before,” Ominis said confidently. “But…if he does mention anything to you, tell me, okay?”

“I will,” you promised. To be honest, you felt like you could tell Ominis anything.

“Good,” Ominis said with a small smile, but it was quickly replaced with a look of concern. “How are you feeling?”

“Much better,” you said truthfully. “Is there another phase after this?”

Ominis pressed his mouth into a thin line. Even when upset, his features were as handsome as ever. It really wasn’t fair. “No, but this one tends to linger. You’ll feel on edge for a few days. Maybe a week, even. It tends to last longer the more times you’ve been cursed, so hopefully it’s just a few days for you,” he said, forcing a hopeful smile onto his lips.

You blinked rapidly as a thought struck you. “Did your family curse you multiple times?” you asked, aghast.

He turned his face back toward his book as he schooled his features. “Yes,” he said in a barely audible voice.

“Oh, Ominis, that’s awful!” you said. You wished you could give him a hug, but as you were naked and sopping wet, it wasn’t exactly an opportune time.

He gave a mirthless laugh. “That’s the Gaunts for you. We specialize in ‘awful.’”

“Not all of you,” you argued. “Not your aunt. Not you.”

“Recent evidence would suggest otherwise,” he said. He hung his head. “Not to mention my past mistakes.”

“But that’s just it. It was a mistake. It doesn’t define you, Ominis,” you insisted. “Do you think the rest of your family would’ve cared enough to help me?”

He scoffed. “Certainly not.”

You just waited, letting him consider the facts for himself.

He sighed as he turned back toward you. “I suppose you have a point.”

You smiled. “I know I do.”

Ominis chuckled, and it was a beautiful sound – if a bit loud at the moment.

You decided you’d soaked long enough and got out of the bath. You cringed as you patted yourself dry. The towel wasn’t quite sandpaper like your clothes had been before, but your skin still felt raw. “How long until clothes feel normal again?” you asked, hoping the answer was soon.

“It all progresses together, so it’ll take a few days,” Ominis said with an apologetic grimace.

You let out a groan. “I was afraid you’d say that.”

He held out his hand. “Here. Give me your clothes.”

You wrapped the towel around yourself before scooping up your uniform and padding over to him. You set the outfit in his open hand.

He cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said. Standing so close now, you could see the blush spread over his cheeks.

Your face flushed, too, when you realized you could’ve just levitated the clothes over. You cringed again, but at yourself this time.

Ominis waved his wand as he uttered an unfamiliar incantation. He handed your outfit back to you. It was silky smooth against your skin. It took what was left of your good sense not to drop your scratchy towel and change immediately. You shuffled off to the other side of the room to get dressed.

“That’s so much better!” you gushed once you’d donned the silk ensembled. “Thank you, Ominis.”

“Of course,” he replied. “I’m happy to help you with anything. I mean, anytime! I’m happy to help anytime.”

As you walked back over to his window seat, you could tell he was still blushing. You couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’ll help you with anything, too,” you replied.

“Yeah?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

You chewed your lip, butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you looked down at him. You raised a hand to cup his cheek, and his chin tilted up slightly as his eyes drifted shut. You leaned down, brushing your lips softly against his. In your current state, his lips felt a bit rough but pleasantly warm on yours. Nevertheless, the tender kiss sent a jolt of excitement through you. “Yeah,” you replied.

His tongue flicked out over his lips, and he smirked up at you.

The door rattled as someone tried to enter the locked lavatory. The sudden noise made you jump back.

“Ugh! This is the second time this week!” a muffled but clearly frustrated voice grumbled from the other side.

“Come one, let’s use the one upstairs,” another, much more defeated, voice replied.

“We should probably get moving,” you said, unable to stop the grin that graced your lips.

Ominis chuckled. “Yes, I suppose we should,” he agreed.

You both made your way toward the door. Ominis was much more graceful in the dim lighting than you were, and you almost stumbled right into one of the empty tubs. Fortunately, Ominis either didn’t notice or politely pretended not to. He turned to you right in front of the door, his fingers resting on the handle. He shifted nervously between his feet.

“Once you’re feeling like yourself again, would you like to get dinner with me at the Three Broomsticks?” he asked with an endearingly anxious expression.

You beamed at him. “I’d like that very much.”

He grinned as he pulled the door open for you. “It’s a date, then.”

Of all the things you’d thought you might find in Slytherin’s Scriptorium, a budding romance hadn’t been one of them. Not that you were complaining. Not one bit.

[autumnalmoons]

Truth or deal (sfw)

this was hard to figure out kldjfjf perhaps i'll do a second part with explicit rating, but for now :D

Viktor x fem!Reader | 1.4K

Notes: Academic rivals to allies to lovers, Fake dating, Mutual pining, Allusions to spiciness but nothing descriptive, Pre-Arcane timeline.

If it’s an arrangement simple enough, then why it's getting so difficult to follow through?

Viktor looks toward you, feeling the faint touch of your arms around his neck. You’re dancing too close to his body; not that he minds.

Not that he’s going to tell you so, of course.

Viktor can’t say he fully trusts you—after all, your charms are the reason why he sought you out after the Student Knowledge Contest last year. He can’t help but gaze at your eyes and get lost in them sometimes, perhaps more than he’s willing to admit.

 You’re a brilliant student whose name has appeared in the first places of the grading rank since your enrollment to the Academy. Sometimes atop his, sometimes under.

This reminds him of what you two were doing last Friday night…

“Viktor?” you hum, snatching him out of his fantasies—his memories. “You’ve stopped dancing.”

His grasp on your waist relocates on your hips, feeling the supple skin underneath covered by the soft silk of your green dress, so familiar by now.

“I just saw Robert Yean passing by,” he says. One of your failed suitors, now that he’s here with you. It isn’t possessive behavior, Viktor repeats himself between mumbles against your hair.

“Very insistent man,” you mutter with a smile, sensing Robert’s gaze glued on your back as Viktor and you gently sway side to side with the music flowing around the ballroom.

“Luckily I am one, too,” Viktor says teasingly, his thumb brushing along the apple of your cheek before leaning toward your lips. He understands the nerve of the man wishing to whisk you away, with such a newly established family, a whole future ahead more than the dark, smoky sky in Zaun could ever offer you.

For the deal to work, Viktor had to convince you that trust could run both ways.

Sure, you were competing to be the top of the class, but contrary to the rest of Piltovans side-eying Viktor—silently reminding him of his place under all of them, back to Zaun—you have such soft, caring eyes. Curious, even, once he took a seat next to you at the table in the library.

“I talked with Mr. Xilas about your prototype to clean chemicals from the dam,” you say, taking a glass of wine from a passing waiter, your eyes sweeping over Viktor’s features, to the pearls of sweat sticking to his forehead.

You offer him a sip, rotating the rim of the glass where you left a stain of your red lipstick.

“Thank you, moje sluníĉko.” He takes a sip, locking eyes with you as he places his lips in the mark of your lipstick over the rim’s glass.

Feeling you all flustered, you settle your hand atop his over the cane’s handle. “You should go and talk with him,” you add. “Sweet-talking him a little, hmm?”

Viktor sighs. “Unless it’s you, I don’t think I can do it that well.”

Your giggle makes him smile, loving the way your eyes crinkle in happy crescent moons, a warm feeling of pride extending inside his chest.

"Ow, my tooth hurts!" you say, fingers pressing your left cheek. "From so much cheesiness."

Viktor pokes at your sides, holding you close to feel the curves of your body against his when you try to wiggle out of his tickling grasp. "You little troublemaker, you scared me."

“You’re so silly.”

“You hurt me, my love.” He says, giving you back the glass of wine, brushing your fingers with his in a premeditated movement that makes your stance feel all wobbly. "But perhaps you could help me with the sweet talk, hmm? I don’t think it’ll be a good idea to call the merchant ‘my sunshine’, or ‘my love,’ don’t you think?”

“Hmm. No, unless you’d want me to be jealous?”

Viktor kisses your temple. “Perhaps later tonight. I might need some nibbles.”

Taking him by the hand, you two settle on the windowsill overseeing the balcony, with the breeze of the afternoon making contact with the bare skin of your back. Viktor’s right hand rubs gentle circles in there to soothe your shivering.

“You should’ve brought a sweater,” he muses.

You look at him, eyes pleading and mouth in a pout. “Aren’t you going to give me yours?”

He smirks. “No. I’m cold, too.”

"Such a meanie." Viktor laughs, opening his coat to envelope you within, almost against his chest. "Mmm, better—some nibbles, you say?” You smile, your lips brushing the edge of his collar, putting a red mark of your lipstick over the ivory dress shirt.

“Don’t,” he muses, pretending to be annoyed, yet his heartbeat jumps at smelling the sweet perfume of fruits and lilies. His hands shake slightly the stem of his wine’s cup. “Those stains are difficult to wash.”

“What can I say? You look handsome, Vikky,” you say, playing with the congratulatory badge reading 1st place Engineering Contest: 45 Edition. “I’m lucky for you to be my fake boyfriend.”

“You’re also breathtaking today." Though he doesn't repeat your phrase. He can't still decide if he tells you that.

At first, it’d been a clear enough arrangement—a fake boyfriend to keep you away from the annoying suitors, and for him, a charming socialite who could push his ideas around the wealthy Piltovan minds sponsoring the Academy. But the simplicity had worn out as month passed and Viktor wanted to invite you out to more dates.

To simply sit down outside the library to talk until the sun dipped in the horizon. And it didn’t help you let him get so close Viktor has memorized the features of your face so he could imagine it at night when you’re not in his bed.

Because it wasn’t part of the deal, you’re lovers only when the doors are open and the curtains withdrawn. And yet that faithful rainy day, you two stumbled over the threshold of his apartment soaking wet, the fine-crafted clothes of the academy uniform glued to your curves.

He couldn’t look away, and you didn’t mind it, either, settling your back against the cold entrance door as Viktor’s lips sought out yours, trying to impregnate himself with your taste.

"Perhaps we should return home today?" he says before he's even able to tell what just got out of his mind. Not that he could lie to you, only hide.

"Before Heimerdinger' speech about the Academy Anniversary?"

“I’d rather hear your voice.”

You laugh. “Vikky…”

“Everyone here thinks I’m whispering loving things to your ear,” Viktor says, nuzzling his nose against your neck when he sees one of the suitors sent by your mother watching you from afar. “Might as well sell the part.” So much, he’s starting to believe it.

“You do sell the part really well,” you mutter, liking how his now familiar hand always cradles the small curve in your back.

It's a straightforward deal, really. Even if you come from the Undercity, your parents had built quite a reputation behind them; not only a family rising from the abyss to the riches above by mere luck, no, this was a hard-work endeavor paired with an endless list of qualities you must master if wishing to have the family last name.

If it's so easy, why does Viktor dread the day when the deal will end?

Even when he wishes to hold you forever…

“Alright,” you say, looking at the sky turning orange. “Let’s go to your place, maybe? I like your mattress the best.”

Viktor chuckles. “It’s not like we’re going to have much sleep tonight, I assume.”

You poke his cheek, Viktor’s fingers wrapped along your wrist that he slowly drags toward his mouth, where he settles to brush his lips against the sensible skin there.

“You’re taking advantage of my inability to say no to you.” Your hands are by now yearning to cup his cheeks, reminiscent of how the amber in his eyes becomes burnt umber once your body is flush against his. He cradles you between his arms as if you were made of porcelain; as if you were a dream that would slip with the first light of the morning sun. "Shall we go?"

Viktor settles your hand on the crook of his elbow, the movement fluid and gentlemanly mastered by repetition.

"Hmm, we shall, my love," he says, giving you a seemingly innocent peck on the lips, though, at the end of the motion, Viktor decides to get a playful nibble on your lower lip. A promise of what is to come. "We shall."

[reallyromealone]

Part 3 of the alpha Spencer Reid x male omega reader? ~ 🌸

Accidental mating 2

Fandom: criminal minds

Characters: criminal minds OG cast +reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: male reader, omegaverse, mpreg, enemies to lovers

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

(name) was nervous, feet tapping against the speckled carpet of the waiting room after finishing writing his information, Spencer awkward beside him though reading a book to pass the time "what do you think the pup will be? Morgan is absolutely dead set that they will be a girl" (name) tried to make small talk and Spencer almost didn't reply, the Omega the one to nervous ramble instead of Spencer, the Alpha remembering what Morgan said about building relationships for the pup "I'm happy with either or, as long as they're healthy"

"I just want them to be happy"

"(Name), (last name)?" The nurse spoke up and (name) got up, hands shaking slightly and he was thankful he didn't have to make awkward small talk with the doctor that was the father to his kid, the lanky alpha not sure how to comfort the other or if he should even do so but his alpha begged him to comfort the Omega. "Turn around" (name) grumbled as the Alpha, slightly startled turned around quickly as (name) began changing "...are you excited to meet them?"

Spencer paused at the question and fidgeted slightly before answering "... yeah, I kind of am"

"I am not doing those 3d ultrasounds though, those things scare the hell out of me"

"Fair enough" Spencer chuckled, (name) didn't say anything but it was his first time hearing Spencer laugh around him.

Nope.

He's just here for the pup.

(Name) shoved his omega down as he sat on the bed, shirt covering his chest "you can turn around now"

"All that to cover your chest? You know we're guys right?"

"And I'm an Omega, it's taboo if I do it remember?" (Name) grumbled out and Spencer made no comment as they waited for the doctor who seemed to be taken their sweet time "I find that stupid" "so do I but it's what has to be done, male or not I'm an Omega"

"So, Any luck with an apartment?"

"None, no one wants to rent to a single pregnant Omega" (name)s words were simple as if he said them hundreds of times before and he probably had, calm and collected as Spencer thought about it.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Powell, here for an ultrasound I see?" The middle aged doctor said as he sat in his stool "you must be the father" Dr. Powell said to Spencer who nodded "Dr. Spencer Reid" the Alpha said calmly as the doctor began the ultrasound, the cold gel feeling weird.

"There they are! Size of a grape" (name) was in wonder as he looked at the blob of cells "oh wait, there's another!" The doctor said and (name) looked panicked "twins? How are they gonna fit in my apartment... Oh god how are they gonna fit in my body?!" His voice shaking as Spencer placed a hand on his shoulder "your body will adjust and I have space at my apartment, you can stay with me till you find a place of your own" his voice serious as (name) looked worried "would there even be enough space?!" He said and Spencer pumped out calming pharamones, thanks to their mating bites it worked as intended since (name)s Omega thought they were mates.

The rest of the ultrasound went smoothly, (name) and Spencer walked out of the clinic together and (name) halted Spencer "I know it was just to calm me down, but you don't have to have me at your apartment, I know it's the last thing you want" (name) though he couldn't stand Spencer, didn't want to make a further enemy of him, his omega already upset they aren't in the same bed and being in the same apartment would just hurt, (name) didn't feel like fighting with his Omegan side like that "oh I was serious" Spencer said simply as he looked at the omega calmly "you're statistically not going to get an apartment that will accomodate a single Omega and their pup let alone two, two sets of hands are better than one especially with twins and we could do rotations..." He listed off why it was a good reason, each point making (name) fidget more and more.

"But don't you hate me?" (Name) asked barely above a whisper and Spencer bit his inner cheek "I'm learning not to" Spencer said back, words truthful as (name) laughed a bit "I'll.. I'll consider it"

When the two got to the office, Penelope was excited to see the ultrasound photos and damn near dropped at the fact they were having twins "two smart asses? Between the two of you, that kids gonna be a menace to their teachers" Morgan teased them as (name) stuck out his tongue "wings up in 20, we have a case" hotch walked in seriously as the team stopped their joking and immediately went to get their go bags, Spencer looking confused as (name) held his go bag "what?" (Name) asked inquisitively and Spencer looked expectantly at him and (name) placed a hand on his hip and glared "I'm going, Reid" he said simply and went to leave the bullpen.

"Absolutely not!" Spencer followed behind angrily "you're not my alpha, I may be carrying your child but I still get to do as I please" (name) said confidently as Spencer looked annoyed "I'm well aware you're a free person with free will but as you said, you're pregnant with my child! This is a homicide case, you're to early in your pregnancy to put this stress on yourself!"

"It almost sounds like you care" (name) teased and Spencer glared "of course I care" Spencer quickly rebutted as they walked to the jet "yes because I am carrying your pup, if I wasn't pregnant with another person's child would you have given a damn if I got on that plane or not?" Spencer was quite for a moment before answering carefully "though we have not cared for one another, the last thing I want is you in danger"

(Name) stared at him carefully before stepping onto the jet "then I'll be sure to keep out of danger, come now we can't leave the others waiting"

Spencer was pouting as (name) looked over the files, paying the Alpha no mind "why are you so mad?" Prentiss asked amused at the other "he's upset I went on this plane, I am Hotch's assistant and until I medically cannot fly I will follow him dutifully like an assistant should" Reid looked the others and Morgan chuckled "I am not getting into this mess"

"Hotch.." Spencer said to his boss who sighed "I would rather him not be on the field but do long as he doesn't go leave specific areas as agreed when he announced his pregnancy to me, I have no issue" of course he did have issue but he knew better than to start a war with (name) over this.

(Name) wasn't deaf to the comments about him when he went places, he was an Omega after all.

He was putting things together for Hotch in a private room of the police precinct when he heard it "an Omega? Imagine he slept his way to get here" an officer commented as the other scoffed "he's mated, who would let their Omega do this shit? This isn't a place for omegas" (name) kept quiet, pointless to cause a scene over things he heard all day "you know degrading comments like that is a surefire way to get suspended" hotch said as the officers sputtered something out before walking off with their tails between their legs "you know you don't have to take that, right?"

"If I got angry at every person who disrespected me, I would be dead" it was honest, sure omegas had rights but it didn't mean they had respect.

Hell (name) knew half the team didn't fully respect him till he proved himself, showing that he was worthy of being Aaron Hotchners assistant "I organized everything by date and by method, there seems to be a pattern..."

"You asked him to move in with you?" Morgan repeated as he and Spencer drove to the crime scene, the genius sighing "he can't find an apartment and no one's gonna take a single Omega with twins!" He said and Morgan smiled "you're apartment isn't big enough for all of them though" and that's when Spencer looked flustered and annoyed "I may have used the money I earned and saved from not just here but the other things and purchased a four bedroom house just outside the city..."

"And you're hoping he agrees"

"Well yeah, it would save one money"

Morgan wasn't even gonna comment about the fact he knew Spencer wanted (name) closer, bonds are crazy things and eventually if enough contact happens... The two will fall for each other... Which was really tragic sometimes but in this case, Morgan rooted for them.

"Thats true, maybe take him to dinner and present the pros of living together" aka a date, thankfully Spencer was too in his head to realize Morgan's little plan "food is a good bribe" Spencer said methodically and Morgan laughed at this as they continued their drive.

(Name) was crocheting plush toys on the hotel bed as a show played in his laptop, waves of nausea coming in waves and he just tried to distract himself as best as he could.

KNOCK KNOCK

(name) was always in edge when people knocked, keeping his gun in him as he walked to the door and looked through the peephole "Spencer?" He opened the door to see the Alpha standing awkwardly "I was wondering... If you wanted to go eat? Talk about plans for the pups" (name) raised an eyebrow, dressed in comfy clothes but not quite pajamas "sure, lemme get my stuff"

(Name) was a simple guy with simple tastes.

So Spencer shouldn't have been surprised when they ended up in a McDonald's booth "I think, we should know the gender so we can plan accordingly" (name) said as he ate his fries and Spencer looked confused "don't omegas typically want it a surprise?"

"Depends on the person, usually it's so they don't get unsolicited advice"

Fair, Spencer thought "if one of thems a pup, we should put aside a fund for nesting as omegas usually start making little bests at around two" (name) explained and took a bite from his sandwich "and collars, those are important" he was a prime example of their importance and Spencer looked sheepish at that "I do have one demand for if we have An Omega" (name) said seriously and Spencer looked confused "what demands?" "The Omega gets treated the exact same as the Alpha, same opportunities and gets to pursue higher education"

"If course, why would that be an issue?"

"Because I had to cut off my family to do so" he said it like it was nothing, just a normal thing but Spencer was horrified "you're smart, you know the statistics" (name)s words cut a bit and Spencer looked serious "I would never deny my kids opportunities for any reason"

"Good, I'll castrate you if you do"

"So about the living thing"

"Yeah, I had a viewing for next week but they canceled in me" (name) grumbled and Spencer sighed "I'm serious though, stay with me"

"Spencer, that's-- that's a thing mates do! We aren't mates! I know because if we were it would make things considerably easier!" (Name) said stressed out, frustration clearly visible on his face " you hate me"

"I want to get to know you, I want to get along with you... We wouldn't be more than roommates" Spencer said earnestly, patience running thin but he had to keep his chill for the other who was so exhausted and stressed "can I think on it?"

"Of course"

(Name) went back to his hotel room, hand on his stomach as he stared off "what do you think?" He asked his belly to no response, after all the pups barely developed enough to be good conversationalists "it would be better for your development..." (Name) whispered as he thought it through...

"Do it for the pups" was (name)s new motto as he got up and walked to his door, housecoat on and made his way to the alphas room.

"I agree... So long as we have equal terms and agreement" Spencer was over the moon as he heard this, his alpha wanting to hold the Omega but he frankly felt he did enough holding of (name) "I'll send you the address when we get back"

[dira333]

Imagine

You learn of Sakusa Kiyoomi at a sports event. He attracts your interest by answering the insanely dumb questions of interviewers with more than the average intellect required. He's funny. Thoughtful. Way out of your league. You don't get a chance to talk to him.

Your friend is friends with him. Everything she tells you of him makes him look better until you grab another friend and take her to MSBY Game in the wild hopes you might get to talk to him. He's not playing that day.

Months pass. There must be some weird psychological trick working because wherever you go, Sakusa's there. You see his face on the covers of newspapers, hear him or his team mentioned in passing conversations. Your mind is the moon rotating around him.

"Hey," Kuroo stops you in the hallway. "We need a commentator for the event next week. Can you do it?"

"Uh," you hesitate. "Sure, but am I doing it alone?"

"Well, we've got someone covering the first half. You'll do the second half."

"Oh, who is it?"

"Sakusa Kiyoomi, you know him?"

"You've got to be kidding me." The words slip out of your mouth before you can hold them back. Kuroo's eyebrows wander up his temple.

"Do you have a problem with him?" Kuroo asks, half amused, half curious.

"I... I'm not sure. I haven't technically met him yet. But the Universe seems intent on pushing us toward each other."

"Oh, don't worry. You're not his type." Kuroo jokes, turning around when someone calls his name. "I gotta go, okay. If he gives you any trouble, just remember that, okay?"

"O-okay..." You're left behind, blinking as you try to make sense of his words. You're pretty sure he did not call you ugly just now. Kuroo's a good friend, has tried to set you up more than once.

But never with Volleyball Players.

You hesitate, try to fight insecurity raising its ugly head. Your only defense is anger. But not at yourself, or Kuroo, or the Universe for doing its thing. No, you're angry at Sakusa.

Who is he, that he dares to think you're beneath him? He's not attractive anyway. The moles on his forehead look like buttons. What is he, a robot? A computer, ready to be turned on? He's way too lanky for your taste anyway. You prefer your athletes muscular. Like Basketball Players.

You sigh. Who are you kidding?

You're Elizabeth Bennett and he's Mr. Darcy and he just called you barely tolerable.

Well, at least now you'll have no problem facing him next week. After all, he's not your type either.

....

My Kofi if you want to tip me

[riofann]

3. tempestuous

Authors Note: I am trying something new. I like this story line please give me your feedback. Only reposts and likes please don't steal my work. XOXO Rose

Tempestuous: characterized by strong and turbulent or conflicting emotion.

Previous Chapter

Sunday September 8, 2019 

You step outside to see Rio standing by his G-Wagon truck. 

“Hey mama” 

“What do you want?” you hadn’t heard from Alejandro since he showed up to your restaurant nor were you seeking him out. 

“Where you going?” he looks at your outfit a dress with sandals

“It's Sunday and I have things to do. What do you want?”  you ask again

He shrugs “Mind if I ride a long?” he smiles 

You look at him as he walks up to you. It's only when he's standing directly in front of you looking down at you is when you respond “Why do you want to ride along?” 

He shrugs “just want to. Is that a crime?” 

You roll your eyes not in the mood to try and decipher in between the lines “get in” you say as you open the door

Your Sunday reset was now going to be with an annoying company 

You link your phone to car and select your Sunday playlist, 90s RnB something that was a must for Sunday reset

You wait for him to adjust in his seat before you pull off 

First stop- Target to restock on things you noticed this week you need laundry detergent and while there you saw some cute bathroom items that you grabbed. You don't speak to Rio in fact you forgot he was there until you turned to see him observing you  

Second stop- The international store you needed some ingredients for your meals this week

Third stop- The nursery/flower shop

“Y/N!” You hear behind you, you both turn around “I got some new Lillie's...” she pauses realising you and Rio were indeed together  “oh I'm sorry” 

“Julia this is Rio, Rio Julia” Julia the owner of the nursery a mid 60s woman who could talk for hours about plants 

“Nice to meet you” he says nodding his head 

“Nice meeting you too Rio” Julia links her arm around yours and pulls you through the nursery 

Last stop- Groceries you had to make sure you meal prepped for the week 

You and Rio still haven't said much to each other. When you pull into your driveway you turn off the car and turn to look at him “Sooo...”  

He smiles “We got things to unload don't we?” 

You turn back to face your home and remove your keys "Right" You get out the car and grab your purse, open the trunk, before you reach for the heavy items Rio stops you “I got you," He puts his hand to block you “here”  he hands you the flowers “you go inside I got everything else” 

“Okayyyy”

You look back at him gathering the groceries in his hands, before opening the front door. He was acting bizarre today/

After all the groceries are in Rio closes the door and makes himself comfortable by the kitchen island.

You watch him from your peripheral while you put your items away and keep him in your line of sight as you rotate the floral arrangements in your home as well. 

When all of that was done you feel uneasy because he wasn't speaking nor were you aware of the purpose of this visit. Was he going to kill you? Was he going to harm you? Why was he just around? 

He becomes distracted with his phone texting. It gives you some time to look around your purse was far away and it would be weird to go pick it up and carry it around even though it had your gun, the knives were in the drawer near him and you can’t just pull them out for no reason nor can you sneak and hold one behind your back.  You get the idea to pull items out of the fridge for dinner at least you would have a reason to hold the knife then. 

You hear his phone hit the counter indicating he was done, with your back to him facing the fridge you ask “are you staying for dinner?”

He clears his throat “Am I not welcomed?”

You turn to face him “who said that? ”

He smirks “Then why are you asking ma'?” 

You want to slap him who the fuck invites themselves to someone else’s house?

You roll your eyes and pull out the marinated meat “since you invited yourself to dinner you're on grill duty”  you give him a sarcastic smile placing the dish in front of him

He nods and smirks accepting the role

He doesn't say anything as you speak “the charcoal is outside, grill was cleaned yesterday, here are tongs, a grill fork, and spatula, marinade to put on the meat” you pause to think “Oh! and the brush the lighter is on the grill lighter fluid is out there too. Any questions?” 

He,shakes his head “Nope” 

“Okay have fun!” 

You watch as he steps onto the patio before you turn around to prepare the sides and salad. In between you begrudgingly make a drink for Rio, a sign of appreciation 

You walk outside which makes him turn to face you.

“Drink for you and dish for the meat"

He smiles “Good looking out” he raises the glass as a toast to you, you nod and walk away 

When dinner is done you serve him food and sit next to him on the kitchen island. You focus on the music playing and think back to your childhood to not accept the reality of what was happening right now. 

After dinner is over and you’ve put the dishes away in the dishwasher you’re both now just staring at each other as you finish off your drinks. 

“I’m sorry” he says out of nowhere

“Excuse me?” you weren’t expecting that 

He sighs and straightens up so he can face you square, he doesn’t say anything for what seems like forever, your heart spikes as he stands up and walks towards you. You assume he is getting ready to kill you right then and there dammit you had let your guard down again and now there were no weapons to use but your very heavy whiskey glass you were holding. 

“I said I’m sorry” he speaks standing in front of you “For letting Nick get in my head” 

Ahhhh he was apologizing for the kidnapping “okay” you hadn’t forgotten about it but you most certainly weren’t expecting an apology 5 months after, you weren’t expecting any apology actually 

He chuckles lightly “come on ma, you gotta give me something” 

“Apology acknowledged” you give him a tight lipped smile He nods “I’ll take that” he finishes off his drink, rinses the cup and places it in the dishwasher “see you around yea?” you nod and watch him leave your house. 

God did you wish you could call someone and talk about how strange your day was, how strange the apology was. Wasn’t really an apology more like an admittance of fault if anything he hadn’t atoned for what he put you through. 

Thursday September 12, 2019 

“Have a seat” he speaks to you. You slide into the seat next to Mick “We need to expand the business”, your mind flashes back to two Sundays ago. Is this why he spent the day with you? To butter you up to do more work? 

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’re so good at what you do, we’re expanding our territory we will need to wash more money” “Why don’t you have other people do it for you? You have a big network surely I'm not the only one that does this for you” He sighs “You’re not but you’re the best” “What if i say no?” you hypothesize “That’s not an option darling” 

You sigh and start sliding off the booth to leave

“I’m not done”

“You’ve already made the decision what else do you want from me?” He remains silent “Right”

He lets you go and texts you the details later on 

Rio: We have 3 spots we want you to look at confirm which one is the best, see you next week 

Friday September 20, 2019

“Cariño!” you hear as you walk to your car at night scaring you “Oh my god! Alejandro!”

“Lo siento mi dulce, Que Paso?!” he gives you cheek kisses, it was the middle of the night the bar was closed everyone had left 

“Hey whats up?” you keep your hand in your purse 

He shakes his head “No need for that senorita. You think about what I said?” 

“How do I know the 30% you offer is more than what I will get from Rio?” 

“How do I know you won’t screw me over?” 

You smile “you don’t” 

He returns your smile “Same” 

“So what do you say huh? You want to give it a try?”

“I don’t want a blood bath” He shakes his head “there won’t be como se dice?? Ah scouts honor, si scouts honor. We will talk to the Serraño family tell them this is for the best” 

“I still need to think about it” He sighs “You know I offer you something good and you don’t take the offer?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to take the offer. There is a lot hanging and i just need to make sure” you appease to him knowing things could turn out bad for you

He interrupts you “I told you the Guerrero family will take care of you” “At what cost?”

He beams “We can and we will eliminate any obstacles you have”

You roll your eyes “I need to time to think and you’re gonna give me the time I need” you go to open your door and throw your purse in He throws his hands up “Si senorita but time is running out I can’t convince my boss that this is a good idea if you keep turning me down” You stop to look at him “I thought you were the boss?” He adjusts his belt loop “Si soy el jefe pero again we are a family other people have to approve” “What do you want from me?” He shrugs “what we want is the same service you provide for the Serraño family, that is all” 

“Why won't you find another bar?” you ask, because why was everyone acting like you were the only person who knew how to wash money in this big city

“No we want the best of the best, you're the best of the best” you look at him taking it in “consider my offer” 

Saturday October 5, 2019 

You weren’t meeting him at your bar, you were meeting him at an upscale winery where all they served was charcuterie boards, fine wines, and spirits. You dressed the part with heels, dress, etc. 

“Hello stranger” he comments to you not responding to his texts. 

You sigh and finish the details you were drawing in the tablet “Rio”

He waves down the bartender “Halloween season not spooked out to be out at night?” he jokes

“If there was ever a boogey man I’m in business with him so no” He chuckles accepting the insult “What you got?” 

“I’m almost done” you comment, finishing up the wine in your glass along with the finishing touches on the drawings. He remains silent, phone always distracting him of course. You look at him from your peripheral, taking him in an all black attire, nothing new. You also hadn’t told him about Alejandro paying you a visit recently, so you have been contemplating brining it up to him or wait for him to bring it up to you “I’m done, here you go” 

“Cool, aye my man get her another” “Oh no it's fine I am done, I’m going home here you go, keep the change”  you say paying off the bartender 

“Oh come on, I just got here, can't we talk?” You turn to face him “About what Rio?” 

He sits back and places his hand under his chin “anything, the expansion, your flowers you picked up from Julia? That's her name right?...any recent visits”  he confirmed 

You scoff “fuck off” 

“I’m being serious”

“And I am too! Fuck off” 

He sits up straight “I would expect you to be happy about an expansion, it's good for our partnership that I’m giving you more” “Partnership?” You mug deeply “This” you emphasize gesticulating between you two “Is NOT a partnership! This is an authoritarian relationship you say jump and the only thing I get to do is ask how high” 

He sighs “That’s not true” “Then what the fuck happened in June if it’s not?!” He remains silent “Right fuck off Rio! You always get what you want, you don’t care what that means for anyone else! The designs are in there the passcode is on the tablet, have a nice evening” with that you grab your purse and walk out of the restaurant. You don’t know why but you got so upset you wiped the tears away as you made it to your car. 

Wednesday October 16, 2019

You slide into the booth, this time you both don’t even mention each other’s names the tension still thick from the last meeting

“What do you want?” you ask him 

“Oooh what's going on here?” Nick comments he wasn’t a stranger to your bar but he also wasn’t a frequent customer 

“Nothing” “Lovers quarrel?” You turn to face Nick “I should shoot you” He grins “Oooh she’s feisty today brother” “Cousin” Rio corrects

Nick scoffs “We grew up as brothers, why try to get into the semantics” Rio glares at him and he chuckles, picking up a wing from the basket. It remains silent as you and Rio just stare at each other “Well since no one wants to talk I will, we would like for you to tell us the best spot” he hands you the tablet 

“Does it matter what I think? Or you just want to hear me talk?” you ask Nick “It matters, I’m not like my baby brother, I listen” Rio scoffs You sigh and open the tablet. “First option is in a commercial strip mall, there’s limited parking so the other businesses will not be happy and it will affect their customers as well driving away businesses” “Right” Nick nods

“Also getting food delivered there’s not much space for the delivery trucks that would mean that they take up parking spaces or block people in for at least one hour. The second location there’s not enough space inside the capacity will be limited to 100 people total that's including staff and patrons so any major sport event or event like Fourth of July, Christmas night, New Years Eve we will not be able to accommodate people” 

“Okay” 

“Also given the space is small the most we can do is standing tables and limited menu”

“Ohhhh” “The last option is probably the best out of the three, it's a stand alone building with a parking lot,  although the lot is small, parking can be easily located across the street on the deck or on the side. This one allows for expansion if necessary as it stands it can accommodate over 200 people and that comes in handy during large events or busy nights, for safety reasons we can add more exit doors, for design purposes the space can accommodate both booth tables and standing bars and maybe even a pool table area. 

“Niccceeee”  You roll your eyes “so you like the 3rd option but what about location?” “The location sucks for the third one but people will drive for good food and a good environment, 20-30 minutes from the city uber/lyft will not cost more than 40 bucks back downtown on a busy night. The other 2 are located perfectly within the city however because of the other factors I don’t consider them the best place to be.”  

Nick nods enthusiastically “understood understood, bro got any questions?” You both turn to look at Rio, he looks at you and says “no” 

“Okay well I have a bar to run” “Wait before you go we want to tell you which one we’ve picked” “Okay” you say apprehensively “Given all you’ve said the first location is the best” 

Rio looks at him you don’t say anything you assume that was a shock to Rio as well

“Its actually the worst of all 3” you comment 

“But its in the middle of all the action people will shop and stop by the bar”

“You’ll piss off the other businesses local businesses at that” 

He shakes his head “No dear, YOU, will piss them off not us” he smiles 

You sigh defeated “alright whatever I gotta go”

“Brother you have been really silent, it will help if you could show support this is what we discussed remember” If looks could kill then Nick would be dead

You stand up and look Rio in the eye “well I guess the boss has spoken hasn’t he Rio?” you give a half smile before turning to walk away 

“Oooohhh she called me a boss” you hear Nick comment rubbing it in as you walk away

Authors Note: Please leave your feedback, again please don't steal. Only repost, like, or give credit.

XOXO Rose

Taglist:

@katymae12344, @yinmaggiorebass , @flirtyjen, @wnbweasley, @meadows5, @belezaya

[rosieofcorona]

In the Blue Morning

Sharing this gentle little fic here again since the Solavellan girlies (genderless) are so back!!! In my mind I am sliding this across the table to you all. Also on Ao3, if you prefer. As always, thank you for reading! 💕

She cajoles him, some mornings, away from his office, from his maps and his books and his paintings and out among the newly-planted gardens, all their tight, unfurling blooms. 

It’s always empty at this hour, when most of Skyhold is still asleep, save for the guards in their high towers, the recruits in the practice yard. The only sound is the clang of their swords through the mist like distant bells, the only light the pink and gold of the nascent sun.

They have been careful, desperately careful not to draw undue attention, not to generate rumors that could harm the Inquisition in the future. It is easier on the road to find a quiet moment alone– to steal a kiss or hold a hand or put words to their love– but the castle, however safe, is full of eyes, forever watching.

It is only in the narrow, muted hours before dawn that Solas weaves his fingers with hers as they orbit the courtyard, side by side.

He names the blossoms as they pass, first in the trade tongue and then in Elvish, the softened syllables like music on his tongue. She repeats them half as gracefully, but he smiles at every attempt, correcting her gently now and again, praising her efforts.

“Gail’lealis,” he says, pointing out an elegant bellflower, its blue-white petals bundled tightly in green sepals.

It sounds off, even to her ear, when she says, “ Ga’lealis,” back.

They pause for a moment, and Solas turns and bends and plucks an early bloom from the same plant, rotating it slowly between his fingers, holding it up for examination. 

“Ga-il,” he repeats softly, separating the sounds. “Meaning ‘bell,’ in the common parlance.” 

“Ga-il,” she says again, correctly this time. 

“Followed by lealis , meaning ‘glass.’”

“Gail’lealis.”

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, tucking the flower behind her ear, the meaning vague yet all-encompassing. It is all beautiful– the morning, the garden, how she catches the light, his ancient language in her mouth, her mouth– 

Solas kisses her in the empty courtyard, parts her lips with a linguist’s tongue, and she kisses him back again and again as if each time might be the last. He wants to stay like this forever, wants the sun to forget to rise, wants the castle to sleep and sleep in an endless dream.

But the light keeps coming, every moment. The castle will wake, and they will see. 

And this will cost them, in the end. 

She is pink as the sky when they finally come apart, and continue their long walk around. 

“I hear you were out here yesterday,” she says, breaking the silence as they turn a corner. “Cullen says you beat him soundly at chess.” 

“It was a closer game than he thinks,” Solas says, but she has learned when he’s just being modest.

“Must not have been that close, because Bull says the same. As do Blackwall, and Varric, and Dorian, though he swears that you cheated.”  “I did no such thing!” 

When they turn again, the chessboard in question comes into full view, set and waiting on its table beneath an awning. 

“He seemed very certain,” she shrugs. “Though I suppose I could find out for myself.”

They stop again before the table, and Solas looks at her intently.  “Is that a challenge, dear Inquisitor?”

“That depends on your level of skill.”

She’s teasing him now, enticing him, a dynamic he’s come to enjoy. There are so few who impress him with thoughtfulness, who make him work at being clever.

“Very well, but you should know that I am merciless,” he warns, a contradiction to the chivalry of pulling out her chair. “Even to one I love.”

He takes the seat opposite her, the board and the pieces adorned in glittering dew. 

“I believe the Lady Inquisitor moves first.”

He sets a dozen little traps for her, a dozen clever gambits, and she evades them every time, to his astonishment. Where he moves to attack, she counters; where he baits her, she defends or retreats. By the end, with the sun fully risen overhead, they reach a deadlock, both depleted, neither victorious.

“Again?” She asks cheerfully, when they’ve finished. Already she is freeing her captives from his end of the table. “Don’t look so stunned, my love. Unless you’re trying to offend me.”

“Forgive me, vhenan,” he says, shaking his head. “You surprise me as always. It is rare to find an opponent so…discerning.” 

His beloved laughs with the morning breeze, a sound like air that surrounds and envelops him. 

“Rare to find one you can’t beat, you mean.” 

She’s right, of course– it is rare that he loses, even rarer that he plays against someone so evenly matched. He still can’t quite puzzle through it, where he went wrong, where she figured him out. 

He had gotten a lead on her early on, or so he thought– he had taken a tower, a mage, and two pawns– and left his queen open for the taking, which she had entirely ignored. She caught onto him quickly, though too late to win, and when she realized she couldn’t beat him, she had blocked him instead. 

Solas leans thoughtfully back in his chair, replaying their game in his mind. No matter how he tries to beat her, he finds no way through. She sees his scheming, sees him coming, cuts him off. 

“Why did you not take my queen, given the chance?”

“Because you gave me the chance,” she reasons. “You wouldn’t do that except to win.” 

“It could have been a tactical error.”  “It wasn’t,” she says assuredly, resetting the pieces along their battle lines. “If I had taken her, it would have left my king undefended from your mages.”  “You could have moved him.”  “For a turn or two. Then your knight would have circled back. Isn’t that right?” She looks up at Solas, her eyes smiling and sharp, affirmed in her answer already. “Or shall we call that a ‘tactical error?’”

“Mm,” Solas nods his approval. “You’ve become quite the strategist. Have you been spending time with our Commander?”

“I’ve been spending time with you,” she counters. “Learning all your little tricks.”

Not all, it occurs to him, but Solas smothers the thought with a laugh. “It seems to me you have a few of your own.” 

“Our Keeper used to call me harellan,” she tells him. “Trickster. Though I needn’t explain that to you.”

He fights to keep the easy expression on his face, feeling suddenly caught in the snare of her gaze, as if she sees directly through him, sees him fully, all he is.

Harellan, his mind echoes. How could she know?

The wait for her judgment feels infinite, inevitable– but it does not come, and does not come, and does not come. She only moves a white pawn toward the board’s center, the leaves rustling softly around them. 

No, he decides. She does not know. She only means he knows the word. 

Solas mirrors her opening move, their pawns face to face on the battlefield. “And still, your Keeper named you her First.” 

“I was more troublesome as a child,” she says, with a grin that implies that the mischief has never left her. “I’ve settled down a great deal since. Can’t you tell?”

This time, when Solas laughs, there is nothing else hiding beneath it. No uneasy feeling, no great fear that she will discover him, cast him out. There is only happiness for a moment, the war reduced to a board between them, as if sorrow and death are nowhere, and the end of the world is far away.

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 1

Kink(s): Scratching

Pairing: Johnny Storm x f!Reader

summary: You’ve met Johnny Storm a handful of times but enough to know one thing: you hate him. His smugness, his attitude, his everything. Well… almost everything

warnings: SMUT, dom!reader (kinda?), sub!johnny, P in V (wrap it folks!), oral (f recieving), multiple orgasm, Creampie, scratching, lovebites

distant!reader, not much aftercare on reader's part (that’s a warning), I wasn’t kidding when I said you don’t like him haha

word count: 3.2k

AN: I was editing this the other day in app and accidentally lost 3 hours of work. Almost broke my phone. Learned my lesson. Never again.

I am usually a big ol’ sucker for a romance but, decided this Reader needed to keep Johnny at arms length. Who knows. Maybe I’ll revisit 👀

Likes, reblogs and comments are always appreciated - this is my first time writing something like this so feedback is appreciated. And obviously, I do not consent for my work to be reposted, copied or translated!

Next | Masterlist

Johnny was stood smiling and chatting to at least three women on rotation. You were convinced they were tagging out with other women at the party just to take turns to speak with him. Bask in his presence or whatever it was that made them want to stand next to such an asshole.

You grimace hearing his loud laugh booming dramatically at something one of the women said to him. You didn’t think it was possible for you to hate someone so much for merely existing, but Johnny was living proof of that. You sip at your champagne flute and scan the crowd, looking for literally anyone else to occupy your mind, when Johnny laughs again somehow louder this time.

You grumble and move away from the crowd of women around him and make a bee-line for the buffet, idly picking up canapés that did not taste as nice as they looked. The murmur of obnoxious laughter was still grating your nerves in the back of your mind as you chewed a piece of bruschetta angrily. Why was he like this? How did he manage to rile you up by just existing.

“Hey, beautiful.” A voice from behind you purred. An arm reached around you, picking up a bruschetta and when you followed the arm back around you, you were met with the charming smile of Johnny Storm. And you visibly recoiled.

It, somehow, made Johnny chuckle as he popped the bruschetta into his mouth. He pulled a face, clearly unimpressed by the taste but the expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared, charming smile back in place.

“Why didn’t you come say hi?” He asks, his blue eyes shamelessly roaming over your figure.

You couldn’t hide the disdain for him from your face. “You seemed busy.” You huff out.

“Oh that,” he looks over his shoulder at the women and waves before looking back at you. “I wouldn’t worry about them, sweetheart.”

You click your tongue and turn away from him. “I’m not.” As you move up the table, Johnny follows closely. Your temper flares when he moves in front of you, blocking your path, leaning against the table with an arrogant smirk. What you wouldn’t give to wipe that smirk of his face.

“What do you want?” You growl, scowling at him.

“You.” He says it so smoothly that, had it been anyone else, you might have felt a little weak in the knees. But it’s Johnny. It makes you cringe.

“Ugh. Please.” You hold up one hand to stop him from continuing. You look so disgusted, anyone would think you’re about to puke from gorging on one too many canapés. Johnny chuckles and with a shake of his head, inches a little closer.

“Come on , beautiful,” he bats his eyelashes at you, looking incredibly irresistible – which irritates you more. “One night’s all I’m askin’.”

“You ask me that every time you see me,” you grumble with a frown. Maybe you wouldn’t hate him do much if you didn’t have to be in the same room as him so often. “The answer is still no.”

“Why not?” He sounds and looks genuinely confused as to why someone, anyone, could refuse him.

“Because I cannot stand you,” you finally snap at him, looking around quickly to make sure you weren’t loud enough. You sigh softly when you see you’ve not drawn any extra attention to yourself but continue to glare at Johnny.

“Hmm.” Johnny says thoughtfully with a theatrical hand on his chin, unperturbed by you clear intense dislike of him. When he glances back to you his eyes glimmer with a mischief.

“Well, if you can’t stand me,” He begins, dropping his voice lower. “How about we go somewhere where you can sit on me instead?”

You blush and to your frustration, your pussy throbs at the thought. You can’t decide if you want to slap him or throw your drink in his face, or both. But then again, if he’s the one to frustrate you it’s only fair he relieves you. Besides; who speaks with their mouth full?

You take a deep breath, weighing your options before hissing, “Hotel Creche. Room 206 on the second floor. Leave fifteen minutes after I do. I don’t want anyone to see you leaving with me.”

Johnny looks utterly smug, watching you storm away with a lick of his lips. Tonight would be fun.

Johnny does exactly what you ask – which is surprising. After fifteen minutes, he attempts to follow suit but gets stopped multiple times by the various women he had been flirting with earlier in the evening when you were ignoring him. This adds another ten minutes to his journey – then another ten when he’s stuck in traffic. He’s tempted to flame on and just fly to the hotel but he’s wearing one of his best Armani suits. Plus, the anticipation was going to add to your excitement.

When he reaches room 206, he knocks hurriedly and loudly. You throw the door open, scowling at him. He tries to smile and say his sorry excuse but he’s cut off. You’re no longer in that lovely tight dress you were in at the party; you’re in lacy red lingerie that he is just drooling over.

“You’re late,” you snap, grabbing his tie and yanking him viciously into the room. You half drag him onto the bed and Johnny is too stunned and turned on to even muster words.

“Lie down,” you command releasing his tie.

Johnny wastes no time clambering onto the bed and loosening his tie excitedly, eyes hungrily watching your every move as you stalk around the bed impatiently. The ire in your eyes makes him feel out of his depth for once. You’re looking at him like how a lioness looks at a gazelle before ripping it’s throat out and he is loving every second of it. Once he’s where you want him, you step out of your panties quickly, kicking them to the side.

As you kneel onto the bed, Johnny watches you with wide eyes and reaches out to touch you, only to be swatted away.

“’M sorry I’m late. I-“

“Do you ever shut up?” You growl, straddling his head between your knees. His hot breath on your cunt makes you shiver. You curse when you feel a wet, hot stripe along your folds as Johnny licks you teasingly in response.

“Only when I’m eating.” He mumbles into your cunt, licking again, slower and more precise this time. Johnny’s tongue takes it’s time tasting you, teasing you; and when you finally grind yourself along his face, he tilts his head ever so slightly to suck the sensitive flesh of your clit.

You gasp out at the sensation but you don’t give him the satisfaction of moaning his name. No, never that. You’d die before you do that. You still can’t stand him – even when he eats you out so good you see stars.

One of Johnny’s hands grips your hip, tugging you closer onto his mouth. The sounds he’s making beneath you make your breathing hitch; he’s good at what he does, there’s no doubting it. You can feel your thighs tighten, pressure building in your core already. You thought you’d last longer but Johnny’s expert tongue is hell-bent on making you cum over his face.

Johnny seems to take note of your quivering legs around his head and smirks into your folds as he takes another long, slow drag with his tongue.

“You’re such a fucking dick,” you breathe out, grinding your wet cunt over his face when he halts his movements. Johnny latches onto your clit again and hums, vibrations shivering all the way up your spine and you gasp, jerking forward splaying your palms across the wall in front of you.

“You were saying?” Johnny mumbles, using his free hand to sink two fingers easily into your soaked pussy, continuing to kiss, lick and suck at your hot flesh. You stifle a moan, gritting your teeth despite your glassy eyed expression. You were ready to cum but you wanted everything out of your system.

“Arrogant. Egotistical. Attention whore.” Each word is punctuated by a moan as you get closer and closer to your first orgasm of the night – but it’s those final two words that make Johnny moan around your clit, sending vibrations to all of the right places again. You curse loudly as you cum, taking a few moments for your breathing to steady before lifting off his face briefly to look down at him with a wicked smile. Johnny is panting and breathless, eyes blown to saucers as he stares back at you; licking his lips and covered in his own spit and your cum.

“You like that, huh?” you taunt. “Being a whore?”

“Fuck.” Johnny’s hands grip you tighter, trying to feebly pull you back down onto his face. You allow it, for a moment, the delicious heat of his tongue more feverish than before. You sit up again, making him groan out for you.

“Say it.” You say, voice dangerously low. Your body thrums with excitement – with power you have never felt. Johnny’s cock twitches desperately against his slacks and his chest heaves as he looks up at you. Fuck. That look you give him makes him want to cum in his pants right then and there.

“I do,” he breathes out, eyes never leaving you. “I like being a whore.”

His admission makes your cunt pulse with excitement. “Thought so. Only whores know how to eat pussy like that. Tongue out.”

Johnny sticks his tongue out immediately with a short moan, muffled by your pussy on his tongue again. He wastes no time continuing where he left off; swirling your clit with his tongue and two fingers working your pussy relentlessly. He lifts his head to envelop the silky flesh around your clit with his lips, sucking gently as he rolls his tongue over the sensitive bubble of nerves as he finds the spongy velvet of you g-spot. Your pussy convulses – second orgasm creeping up on you as you almost yell out. Your thighs shake around his head and the sound – the sound - you make; stuttering out a long, loud moan as Johnny continues to suck and lick everything you can give him. He thought he was close before but damn – he was wrong. He couldn’t remember the last time his dick was this hard.

You sit up, allowing him to breathe. For a few moments, you relish at the state he’s in; flushed, covered in your cum and rock hard. You’re tempted to leave him like that, however, you’ve got an itch you need him to scratch.

When you catch your breath, you inch down over his torso, settling your wet pussy against the hard on in his slacks. You pull at his tie and make quick work of the top few buttons of his dress shirt, revealing his sleek, unmarked neck.

“So pretty,” you purr, leaning down to pepper kisses along his neck. Johnny moves to kiss you but you duck away, splaying a clawed hand over his face and holding him in place. “Ah – ah – ah,” you chide. “You’re not allowed to kiss me.”

Johnny huffs, settling to kiss the finger closest to his mouth instead, wishing he could have your lips – either set – on his again. You dip your head again, nibbling at the soft flesh experimentally. You can smell your cunt on him and it makes you want to lick him clean. But you won't. Not tonight, anyway.

Taking a small portion of skin between your teeth you bite down slowly, feeling a bruise blossom. Johnny feels so utterly powerless as he mewls beneath you. His hips jerk upwards at your words and he was right before, lioness is the perfect word to describe you. You leave another love bite and Johnny moans louder than before and grinds your hips against his to feel the sweet friction he so craves.

“Want you.” He pants. “Fuck me, please. Jesus Christ.” The frustration is killing him. His cock his so hard it hurts.

“So fuckin’ needy,” you snarl, huffing angrily.

Johnny then does something he’s never done in bed before; he whines. God, you on him using him like this was driving him wild and he was starting to hate how good it felt. And you were just starting to love it.

You shuffle back and rake your clawed hand down his chest, five raised red lines appearing in its wake. Johnny watches in wide eyed awe, chest heaving as he follows your hand . He thinks his heart stops when he feels you reach between you both to palm his cock.

Another curse falls from Johnny’s lips as he shudders. He’s used to getting what he wants, taking what he needs, but you’re just toying with him. The thought of being balls deep inside you, making you come again and again until your resolve breaks and you beg for more is what makes him snap. And you seem to read his mind, because you smirk and ask, “Still want to fuck me?”

Johnny nods desperately.

“Then, fuck me like the whore you are.”

He pushes you back and you squeak, falling a little roughly to the pillows. You can feel Johnny trapped between your legs, gripping your thighs with a look of primal need. He runs the tip of his cock through your wet folds, expecting you to moan out. When you don’t, he pouts slightly.

"What’s wrong?” You taunt, meeting his eyes. “Need a hand?”

You don’t expect Johnny to rut into you, burying himself deep within your slick cunt with ease, and your face conveys as much. You’re wide eyed and your mouth hangs open in silent moan as you look up at him. Johnny places his hands either side of your head, looming over you and setting a brutal pace; burying his cock into your pussy again and again.

You groan loudly as you clench around him, latching your nails into his back to ground yourself. Your nails dig into his skin so tightly you think you’ll draw blood. Johnny moans at the sensation of being inside of you and your nails – no claws – feel so good digging into his skin he thinks that maybe he should do this again with you. Maybe more than once. Definitely more than twice.

“So. Desperate.” You pant out. “Everyone was right; you are a good fuck.”

“Fuck, so are you.” Johnny uses his right arm to hook your left knee, raising your leg up over his shoulder. His left arm wraps under your right shoulder, anchoring himself to you before fucking into with newfound fervour. The new, deeper angle makes you curse loudly and it’s not long before you cum over his cock.

“Feel so good,” he grunts into your neck, leaving sweet kisses along your exposed skin. “I knew you liked me. I fuckin’ knew it. This is exactly where you wanted to be.”

“I hate you,” you correct swiftly, trying to glare up at him but the pleasure you’re feeling makes it hard to stay focused. “You’re such an ass. At least you’re good for something.”

Johnny groans, hips faltering for a moment at your words. His cock throbs inside you and he moves to kiss you but you hand grasps his chin millimetres from your lips, halting him in his tracks.

“I meant it when I said you wouldn’t kiss me.” You say firmly.

“But – but I wanna kiss you,” he whines, picking up pace again. “Feels so good, fuck.” His head drops to your shoulder, grunting as he listens to your breathless moans. The wet slapping sounds of his sac against your soaked cunt as he pummels you into the bed fill the room. You can feel pressure building again and you know your orgasm is close.

“Please.” Johnny begs again, pushing your leg over his shoulder up towards you. “Shit I don’t know if I can hold out much longer baby.” Johnny’s eyes meet yours but it’s brief. Your eyes roll back into your head, legs shake and you moan loudly. Your pussy clenches around his cock, milking him as you soak his precious Armani slacks in your cum. Johnny’s orgasm follows closely after with a stuttering groan, watching your blissed out expression as he spills into you.

His hips still and he collapses on top of you, mumbling sweet nothings and kisses to your neck, whilst you both come down from your respective highs. Once your breathing levels out, you look down to your neck to find Johnny’s blue eyes looking up at you, a shit-eating grin on his face. He expects you to smile back, wrap your arms around him and thank him, praise him. Maybe even throwing in a line about wanting to see him again and getting his number.

But you don’t. You raise an eyebrow at him and offer a wry smile, patting his back gently. You lie back into the pillows with a deep, exhausted from the frustration and from your orgasms. Your eyes flutter closed – floating away on the plush, soft pillows.

“So,” Johnny says, trying to keep the bafflement from his voice when you offer him nothing. “How was that for you?”

Irritation nags at the corner of your brain and you try not to scowl. Stupidly, you’d thought he’d slink out – head back to the party. Leave you to your slight shame of the events of tonight – and surprisingly relaxed demeanour – and not either you again. You had thought wrong.

“Good.” You say, trying to sound at least marginally happy.

“Just good?” Johnny presses, shifting a little to try and see your face. Now you you’re really trying not to scowl.

“Uh...” You search for words, trying not to be sarcastic and mean. “Amazing?”

Johnny smirks, looking incredibly smug despite reading your expression wrong again. “Good.”

You hum, pulling a small face of disgust and shift in the bed, turning away from Johnny. You cosy down and your eyes flutter again. Then you feel Johnny’s warm arm drape over your waist and he wiggles forward, holding you close against his chest. Your stomach turns. It’s so.... inviting, so caring, it makes you sick. It’s fake.

“You were amazing too, by the way.” Johnny murmurs, pressing a kiss to your ear. You can feel him still smirking and you shiver. Your annoyance level is rising again. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. You didn’t realise tolerating him after would be something you had to worry about.

“Mmhmm.” You attempt to zone him out, letting him babble to himself whilst you get to sleep.

“I’d like to do this again – see you again.” He whispers, settling into his own pillow.

“Yuh huh.” Sleep is tugging at you now and you’re not paying attention. It’s not all bad you suppose – you have someone you will, and quite literally, keep you warm for the night. But you do wish he’d stop talking.

After a few more moments of soft murmurs, Johnny finally sighs into your neck, lulling himself into sleep with you not far behind. You fall asleep dreaming of anything but him and he falls asleep dreaming of you.

Day 2