#this is so convenient considering i haven't slept well in a week

[heretyc]

Rest, Damn You [Val/Reader Fic + Headcanons]

As a sleep-deprived Val stan...this request is not only appreciated but SO valid :'D ILY Anon. Gonna do both HC's and a fic because I love this so much.

Kept this as ambiguous as possible so it can be either modern AU or normal AU. 🤭 Headcanons are under the fic.

Synopsis: You can't sleep. Irritation and restlessness are a cocktail that you unwillingly sip. Yet you forced a smile onto your face and tried acting like you weren't dying of exhaustion.

Warnings: Mentions of sex. But it's Val...what did you expect lol

(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------

You couldn't stop your eye from twitching. Really, it was out of your control. The hiss you made earlier as the sun invaded your sight? Out of control, too.

It's as if the sandman hated you. Sleep was an itch you couldn't scratch, no matter what you've done. Lavender didn't work. Rainy nights didn't work. Not even the sounds of nature could calm your mind.

It was killing you.

...Not really, but it felt like it.

Everything had irritated you to no end. But it wasn't anyone's fault for your sleeplessness. So you kept a tired smile on your face at all times, taking in deep breaths when something annoyed you.

No one had noticed, really.

Except for Val.

It was inevitable. They knew everything. They read you like a book when you first met, and that hasn't changed. Not one bit.

So when your eye twitched for the 50th time that day, they had raised a brow, confused. You weren't okay.

Your body language suggested exhaustion...clumsiness, a lack of reaction to anything. And yet you took it all in stride, a smile on your face as if nothing was wrong.

They confronted you after your conversation with a heretic had ended. They took your arm into their hand, gently pulling you to them.

"Are you alright, my love?"

It was rhetoric. The look in their eye suggested that they knew.

With a sigh, you shook your head. Your eyes burned and teared up whenever possible. But you couldn't sleep. "Not...really."

They hummed, their pupils scanning your face. You felt like prey with them. "And why is that? What is troubling you?"

They wanted to hear it from you.

"Uhhh..." you slowly blinked, your eyes teary once more trying to keep themselves moist from lack of rest. They stayed silent, waiting for you to finish. You huffed. "I'm exhausted."

That was obvious. But you were only ever this exhausted after a night of fun. The both of you would fall into each other and pass out, nuzzling into one another, warm and satisfied. You'd be right as rain, afterward. But you hadn't had that kind of fun in days due to business.

This was another kind of exhaustion. The kind you get after depriving yourself of sleep.

They tilted their head a bit, staring into your eyes, and a slim finger came up to wipe away at a stray tear. Silently, they urged you to go on.

Their touch was nice.

"Just can't sleep." You shrugged. You had no answers, really. Sleep was just a pain in the ass.

"Could there be a cause of your restlessness, my love?" They questioned quietly. "Anxiety, perhaps? You know you're safe..."

"No, no. I don't think so, anyway." You swallowed, your head tilting forward before you caught it. Val merely chuckled, wiping away at your forehead to push your hair back.

"Well," They hummed once more, taking your face into their hands. Your cheeks were squished. "We need to get to the bottom of this, you know. You cannot be restless...it's unhealthy."

"And what do you suggest?" You speak through puckered lips due to their gentle squeezing of your face, and they chuckle, pecking you before speaking.

"Helping you sleep, of course. I'm free of my duties." They said with a kind smile before moving to grab your hand in order to guide you back to bed.

"Val...it's the middle of the day."

They looked back at you, a brow raised with a playful look on their face. "And? Since when did we follow rules, darling?"

Touche.

It's as if Val made everything better. Because as you lay close to them, reveling in their body heat, heavy rain pelted outside, frogs began to croak, and you could finally feel the void of sleep embrace you, much like Val did the moment you nodded off.

(❁)----------------------------------------------------------------------

Restlessness is not a healthy thing. And Val wants nothing more than for you to be healthy. How else will you have orgies with them?? Joking, but not really. In general, they want you pristine.

Definitely picks lavender and will shove it into your pillow to help you sleep. I can see them rubbing it on them as well if you're sleeping in the same bed. Which is every night, all night.

Gets pissed if someone wakes you up, or ruins the calm atmosphere they crafted just for you.

Remedies whatever is causing you to stay awake. Knoth and Marta? They're irrelevant. They are far too focused on squishing some man named 'Blake' to concern themselves with you. Migraine? They'll make the whole area go silent if need be.

Mama bear 100%.

They will be physically affectionate as you try to drift off. Soft trailings of their fingers on your face, your shoulders, your back...

Not opposed to massages. Yes, they'll try and stay away from your more sensitive bits until you're feeling better.

They hum. This is a canon event. They will hum a song as they hold you tight and rock. "Oh be careful little eyes what you see..." as they lightly pet your face.

If it's due to an injury, they'll do what they can to numb the area and grant you relief. They are no doctor, but they'll do what they can.

Sometimes, restlessness is caused by emotions. Maybe you need to vent. Or get a secret out. They will lend you a loving ear if need be.

When I'm restless, it's due to outside factors, like storms. I hate storms. If you're like me, they'll put hands over your ears or put your head to their chest and hum. Their heartbeat is a nice remedy to the thunder outside.

[couldyouimagine-that]

Cuddles With Satan

Genre; Hurt/Comfort, Flufffff

Word Count; 1.2k

Warnings; None, just the reader being exhausted beyond belief and Lucifer convincing you to let him hold you while you go to sleep.

Pairings; Lucifer (Supernatural) x Reader

I know that soft!Lucifer isn't everyone's thing, but I haven't found enough fics like this so I am filling the gap myself! I guess he's inherently OOC for being soft, but I've written him as in character as possible if he decided to be affectionate towards the reader. (Also comment if you think I should do something similar with Casifer, I am very much considering it). Enjoy!

Here's part 2!

Masterlist

-

“I know you don’t really believe it yourself, but you are right.”

You had told Dean, Sam and Castiel that it was okay to leave you alone with the Devil. That if he wanted you dead, you would be.

“Besides, why would I kill you? That little moral dilemma that you’ve got going on is far more interesting than your corpse would be.”

That little moral dilemma was that you liked Lucifer. And he knew it.

You were incredibly tired. You didn’t feel well, you hadn’t been sleeping or even eating properly and you had convinced the others to go so that they could get a break from Lucifer’s antics. You knew that if someone hadn’t left, you would have ended up with a full-blown fight on your hands, and you didn’t want to have to deal with the fallout of one of your friends conveniently forgetting that they were nothing more than an insect to an archangel. You’d already had the job of patching up Sam and Dean when one of them got a little too self-righteous and a flick of Lucifer’s hand had sent them both flying. Castiel at least had slightly better control, but you’d had to hold him back from starting something in retaliation more than once. Not that pushing the angel back by his shoulders would actually do anything if he had a mind, but so far it had served as a good enough reminder to stop him from antagonising the Devil.

You turned around to face him, arms crossed over his chest and head resting in one hand, leaning against the edge of the table. Utterly relaxed and confident. He tilted his head just slightly as he watched you, a smile pulling at his lips.

“I need to go and get some rest before I pass out. Please, please don’t do anything while I’m gone.” He stayed quiet, enjoying the look you were giving him, pleading him to help you out. Until you dropped it, huffing a sigh and shaking your head. You were going to fall asleep regardless and you’d rather not be in the main room of the bunker when it happened. You made for the corridor at the back without another word, heading to what had become your room. Naturally, Lucifer followed.

“How about I come with you?” You said nothing, allowing yourself a silent sigh. “What? Two birds, one stone – that way you get to rest and you know where I am and what I’m doing.”

Not for the first time, you cursed yourself for having ever opened your mouth. A few weeks back, whilst sharing some beers with the boys and reminiscing on happier times, talk had turned briefly to partners. Sam and Dean had mentioned that in each of their longer-term relationships, their girlfriends had said they felt safer being held when they went to sleep. You had agreed, saying that you usually also slept better if someone was holding you. The conversation had moved on, that had been it. Apart from the fact that Lucifer had been hanging around somewhere and heard every word, and hadn’t left you alone about it since.

“Not today, Lucifer. Please.” You could hear the smile in his voice when he answered and you knew he’d heard the defeat in yours.

“Come on, Y/N, just this one time. What harm will it do?” He just kept walking behind you when you didn’t answer. “It’s not a one-way ticket downstairs, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’ve got far worse on your resume than ‘cuddled with Satan’.” You could feel your fight draining with every passing second.

“Why do you even care about this so much?” You asked at length, leaving the door to your room open out of habit since you were still having a conversation. By the time you considered that maybe slamming the door in his face would have ended the conversation, he had already walked inside.

“Curiosity. Angels don’t sleep, as you know, so I’ve never experienced holding someone until they drift off. I want to know what it feels like.”

You stared at him for a moment, uncomprehending. You knew your powers of reasoning weren’t operating at full capacity, but that sounded so… genuine. Gentle. Usually bad things when associated with Lucifer but you were running out of both reasons and time remaining before you collapsed where you stood.

“Come on.” His voice was so quiet, so soft, that you would never again wonder how he had convinced anyone to do anything. You just hoped you were right in thinking that there were worse things you could be agreeing to.

“I- alright. Fine.” You raised your hands briefly in surrender then collapsed onto one side of your bed, faced away from him.

You felt the mattress shift beneath his weight as he laid down behind you, felt his gaze on you as he lightly traced two fingers down your spine. You had to fight to hold back your sigh. His hand moved ever so gently along your side, up to your shoulder where he applied just a little bit of pressure to push you onto your back. His expression was soft, one arm beneath his head as his eyes tracked the path of his hand. He didn’t even have to lean to reach over you and your eyes shuttered when he slipped his hand beneath your back, pulling you over to him with no effort at all. You found yourself pressed against his side, head on his shoulder and with nowhere else for it to go, your arm resting on his chest.

His hand started a gentle passage up and down your back and you gave up on trying to hold back your contented sigh. Lucifer smiled genuinely at the sight. He rested his chin atop your head as he moved his flat palm to your lower back, again pushing gently to reposition you how he wanted. With sleep already winding its tendrils through your mind, you figured in for a penny, in for a pound. You received an appreciative squeeze when you crossed your leg over one of his, and another when you wrapped your arm around his torso, laying your hand against his ribs. You played with his soft shirt for a few moments, moving the material between your fingers, before tucking your face more firmly against his shoulder. Lucifer shifted slightly and you felt the scratch of the scruff on his chin against your forehead and a gentle pressure before he moved back again. Even mostly asleep, that woke you straight back up again.

A forehead kiss? That had nothing to do with wanting to know what it felt like to hold someone as they fell asleep. You looked up questioningly to find his expression caring – caring – and his gaze already trained on you. He would only offer a minute, one-shouldered shrug in response. Just felt like it, the movement said. I don’t really care. You simply chose to lay down again rather than start another conversation, and Lucifer’s chin returned to your head and his hand resumed its path across your back. You eventually let your train of thought go so that you could finally get some rest, but you couldn’t help but wonder what it was going to mean to have Lucifer’s affection.

[larissa-the-scribe]

Tell Me About This Time Loop, Again?

And so it begins... @inklings-challenge

Day 12

In Zo's mind, it never felt like the day was properly begun until Lyn woke up, looked around at the room they'd been staying in, frowned, and said—

Day 13

"Where are we? And why does it feel so... familiar?"

"Well you see," Zo replied, as he always did, peeking at the underside of the egg he was frying, "we're stuck in a time loop."

Day 14

"A time loop?" Lyn swung her feet over the side of the bed, seeming to realize for the first time that she was in one.

"Don't worry, it's clean." After confirming they were, indeed, in a time loop, one of the first things he had suggested was finding a comfortable place to set up camp. Somehow it had worked, and they had ended up there every time things reset. "And there doesn't seem to be anyone around, so I don't think we're stealing or trespassing." 

Lyn raised an eyebrow. 

Day 15

"Well, we might be, but no one minds. It's a ghost town. Everyone seems to have disappeared." And since it was a time loop, they never ran out of cooking gas. Or food supplies. That, at least, was convenient. 

"Disappeared?" Lyn stood up, adjusting her shirt from how it had gotten scrunched up in the night. Despite her attempts to look bright-eyed and alert, he could see the sleepiness that still hung from her eyes. 

Day 16

"Our best guess so far is that it's connected to the time loop." Zo flipped the eggs. If this all persisted, he could open up a fried-egg restaurant once they got out; he was getting an absurd amount of practice flipping eggs.

"That makes sense." Lyn padded over to the window, still barefoot, and pushed the shutters open. "Do we have any evidence, or is that just, well, a guess?" 

Her gaze swept the view, which he knew without looking was nothing more than the empty lines of blocky, one-story buildings and the too-smooth black-top of the streets. The neighborhood was pressed together as if sheltering from the plains beyond the town, with such a veneer of newness covering it all that each house might have been churned out of a factory yesterday. They hadn't been, though, considering the subtle signs of wear and tear inside the houses. 

"Eh, a bit of both. Something weird is clearly going on with the area, and we know time is affected, too, so it's a logical guess that the two are connected. Whether that means some psycho wiped the town out before setting up their experiment, or just that their timey-wimey dealybob messed up physics in general is still up for debate. Do you want toast?"

"Yes, please."

Day 17

"Good. We have to finish the bread before it goes stale." Zo left the 'in case we get to the next day' implicit.

"I'm surprised we still have butter. I thought it would have gone bad in your pack."

"It smells a bit odd, but so far we haven't been affected by it."

Day 18

"Okay, but how do you know we're in a time loop?" Lyn asked, setting the table. 

They were in a ground-level studio apartment, so the dining room, kitchen, and bed were all in the same space. No couch, which Zo took to mean that the owner was either poor or a cheapskate. Either way, it was disappointing. Still, the carpet wasn't bad. He'd slept on worse.

"Because you've asked me that so many times I've lost track of the number," Zo said, "and you seem thoughtful every time, like you're not as surprised as you thought you'd be." 

She nodded and set a fork down carefully, wearing the expression she always did just then, brows squeezing down over far-away eyes.

"In all fairness, though," Zo clarified, "I mostly lost track because I wasn't really counting, and then it seemed pointless to start. It's been over two weeks, though, I'm fairly certain."

Day 19

She smiled, and the tension in her brows eased a bit. "This all does feels familiar. Like, I don't remember the other days, but all of this feels like I should, somehow, know what happens next. But I don't."

"I do know," Zo replied, "and it's getting a bit tiresome."

"Fair."

Zo nodded, slotting toast into the toaster. "Very. Whoever owned this place pretty much only had eggs in their fridge. I'm not sure how many more days in a row I can eat those without losing my mind."

Lyn looked up sharply.

Day 20

"Relax," he said, waving his spatula, "they respawn every day, so I don't think it's even technically stealing. If it is, we can pay them back later. There's a fully-stocked but unmanned convenience store down the road, one which we have very nobly not taken anything from, every single day."

"Good," Lyn sighed. "After all, if we get out today, we wouldn't want to be rewarded by jail for petty theft." She tacked on a fierce look at the end of the sentence.

Zo shrugged, and let Lyn interpret the gesture as she would. "Eggs are almost done."

Day 21

"Good. I'm weirdly hungry. Also, thank you for breakfast."

"Don't mention it," Zo smiled. "It's nothing I haven't done many times before."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for avoiding my husband on purpose, like, all the time? my husband (m36) and i (f34) have been married for almost 10 years (anniversary in a few months). we have 3 kids (m10, f8, f1) and he works full time while i stay at home. even before we got married i didnt really have friends other than him, and i always had a hard time finding excuses to get out of the house. frequently, he gets to hang out with his buddies who he also works with, and ever since we had kids he's always going out and leaving me home alone even when hes not at work just to idk. hang out at bars and pretend we don't exist. well lately ive been making time for myself to go out when the kids are at school (my youngest is pretty well behaved so i just take her with me instead of paying a babysitter) and i had managed to get kinda friendly with some of the wives of my husbands coworkers (theyre all members of the same union, so we see each other at those functions every once in awhile). i thought it was all going well and i was having fun and enjoying getting to be social for once, but about 2 weeks ago, the whole family was invited out for lunch (a picnic type thing) with his buddies from work's families. all was going well and for the most part even the kids were having fun, but then my husband got absolutely fucking trashed for no reason. none of the other guys were acting like that, and we've had conversations about him not doing that sort of thing, but he NEVER listens. he's always acting like this, but usually i dont have to see when its in public. well he embarrassed me so fucking much. he was trying to start fights, messing up his clothes, and wouldn't listen to me at all. just in his own world as always. i should've known because its been a decade of this, but i could have sworn it wasn't this bad before. he wasn't like this when we dated you know? so we got home and i was just. grossed out and annoyed. i slept on the couch and pretty much ever since then, i haven't been talking to him. i got a text from one of the ladies saying that a wednesday hangout thing i had been invited to had been canceled, but i pretty much KNOW 100% that it wasn't, and that they just don't want to be associated with me now. the kids don't really seem bothered by the tension around the house (i think its sort of normal to them since hes frequently not around anyways). i wouldn't be near as annoyed if there wasn't a part of my brain telling me "he did it on purpose". i know that's just how he acts but i could SWEAR its almost like he just doesnt want me to have friends. he doesn't want to hear about it, he just wants me THERE at home, watching the kids and existing solely for his convenience. i used to consider divorce, before we had our youngest. but i haven't had a job since high school, and i couldnt put the burden of asking for help on my sisters. they hate him, but i couldnt ask them for that support. and i dont even know what the kids would think, i cant do that to them. but yesterday, my husband brought it up (cornered me in our room pretty much) and asked why i was ignoring him. what if he really didnt know why? i TOLD him, but its like he forgot or just expects me to be "over it" by now. all i wanted was just this one thing, to HAVE FRIENDS, have that time away from being just "mom" and do what i want. he gets to do that so why cant i? or AT LEAST he could put some more effort into being around and doing things as a family? but i still wonder if im being the asshole, for giving him the cold shoulder for this long. he didnt have a happy childhood or good examples for parents so maybe he just thinks this is normal? i never asked because i assumed he knew it wasn't. and he does seem like, disappointed that i wont come to bed. maybe ive been driving him off and that's why he doesnt like to come home? idk at this point, im at a loss. aita?

[izels-writing]

r. lupin — strange [2/2]

Pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

Summary: you know remus lupin now, and you love him anyway

Warnings: a little fast-paced, confident and blunt reader (?), awkward remus (?), pregnancy toward the end, physical punch (not intentionally violent)

PART ONE, PART TWO

it had been weeks since your 'almost-kiss' with remus lupin. no one really knew about it from your side, because y/f/n knew better than to try and pry it out of you. despite what you tried to convince yourself, you were upset about it.

but remus still talked to you as friends, but nothing more. he never even mentioned the kiss or walking around the corridors. he just didn't. you acted as normally as you could, but it honestly only made it sting worse. especially considering james, sirius, and peter brought it up when remus wasn't around. you mainly pretended to be too immersed in whatever was at your best convenience.

yes, you had started hanging out with the mauraders. and they were becoming fast friends. you expected to feel the same connection you had with remus, but you didn't. it was strictly the same connection you felt with y/f/n.

remus was different. strange but different.

—

you sat in front of remus, who was diligently working. you were looking at him over your book, taking notice to a few things.

the bags under his eyes had gotten worse, much darker definitely. his usual ill appearance was looking worse as well, with him looking really pale.

as he wrote, his hand was shaking, as if trying to maintain focus too much. and his posture looked much more exhausted, like he hadn't slept in days. you had also noticed that he had been skipping dinner the past couple of days.

he was now impossible to read.

"remus?" you said softly.

he looked up at you, a concerned look on his face when he noticed the concern on your own.

"are you alright? you haven't been eating dinner, you look more tired than usual, you're visibly shaking—!" you rambled.

"y/n! i'm fine! just, stop worrying, okay?" he said in an reassuring tone, but to you, it was anything but.

"alright..." you trailed quietly.

you both quickly went back to your silent study session.

——

it had been approximately three days since you tried to confront remus, and he had now started to avoid you. normally, you would've left it alone, but this time...you couldn't. it was too much on your mind to even think away from it. seriously, you had started having dreams about remus falling so ill that he'd die.

so, now, you were in the library, looking up anything that it could be in a quiet, hidden corner of the library with stacks of books surrounded you, making you even more invisible.

"moony, are sure you can go to class today? today's the rough day, you can rest up for tonight—" sirius' voice said.

"i'm fine, pads. honestly, you're starting to sound like y/n. minus the part that she doesn't actually know." came remus' voice.

"wait, y/n noticed?" said james. you nodded, as though they could see you.

"yeah...so?" remus questioned.

"she fancies you, mate! that almost kiss that you really wanted wasn't your imagination!" sirius said. you felt a deep blush rise to her face.

no, i don't! you thought, i just care a lot for remus.

"look guys, just because i fancy someone, it doesn't mean they'll automatically fancy me back." remus said exasperatedly.

"still, she noticed, and she's a close friend now. lily knows, aren't you going to tell y/n?" james asked.

"lily figured it out. y/n hasn't and i hope she doesn't. i don't need her getting freaked out and never speaking to me again. i really fancy her, and even if she doesn't fancy me back, it's nice to have her in my life. so please don't say anything."

remus' words made you feel warm inside, but also jittery. he fancied you. the one person you could talk to about anything fancied you.

then it dawned on you. the extensive research. the worrying. the pretending. the way you could feel your heart jump every time remus smiled at you.

sirius was right, you fancied remus just as much as he fancied you.

replaying the conversation in your head, knowing the boys had left to class, you tried to remember anything that could hint to what exactly was going on.

'today's the rough day, you can rest up for tonight—'

today was november 25th. november of your seventh year...you tried to think of anything else.

'tonight'

'i don't need her to freak out'

'lily figured it out'

"miss l/n, while i appreciate how much you appreciate my library, you're going to be late. honestly, too many kids came in today," madam pince sighed, "something about the full moon makes people act funny."

full moon! tonight was the full moon!

"yes, i understand, madam pince, can i just have a couple of more minutes?" you asked quickly. she sighed, "very well. but get to class soon."

you nodded and stood up, waving your wand to put up the books you had checked out. you quickly rushed over to the magical creatures section, stopping at the vampire and werewolf sections, which were the most active creatures during the full moon.

remus wasn't a vampire. if he was, he'd have to have killed a couple of students by now. but he was too innocent to be a werewolf. he was so lean, but also gentle and kind. then again, he had always been so hard to read.

out of pure gut feeling, you grabbed the werewolves book. you flipped through it, before finally stopping one important section. you felt stupid, but didn't put too much blame on yourself, considering you haven't studied werewolves since your fourth year.

'Symptoms

• before full moon (days or exact day)

  - fatigue

  - override in senses

  - shakiness

  - restlessness

  - loss of appetite (unless raw meat)

  - paleness'

the list went on and on. it was starting to make sense. most of these described remus almost to the tee. it was like reading a book on remus.

remus lupin was a werewolf. and he was transforming tonight.

you wanted to tell him you knew, so that he didn't have to hide anymore from you, but you didn't want him to freak out on you.

sure, it was surprising to know he was a werewolf, but you have seen him get into an argument with james over stupid subjects. it was hard to see him as anything other than what you always thought he was. it didn't change.

"miss l/n!"

"going!"

you shut the book, pushing it back into its rightful place. you gathered your things, slinging your back over your shoulder, and took a deep breath.

and to class you went.

——

after dinner, you waited by the entrance to the gryffindor common room. everyone went in, and surprisingly, the last ones to enter were the boys you were looking for, except remus wasn't with them.

"y/n! what's up?" james asked, pulling you into a hug, as he usually did. you returned it, before quickly letting go.

you made sure no one was around before you finally gave the boys a deadpan look.

"i know."

"you know?!" the three of the sputtered.

"i know." you nodded.

"but are we sure she knows what we know?" sirius questioned.

"no, i know that you know that i know." you replied. you all blinked at each other, having become confused at this point.

"okay, listen, how do you—"

"i overheard you guys in the library. but don't worry, i'm not freaked out or anything. honestly, at least he's not a montrose magpies fan, we're good." you said. james nodded in agreement.

"i mean, there's a reason we have quidditch and that ruddy muggle sport football separated!" james whispered harshly. you nodded quickly in agreement.

"anyway, have you to told remus you know?" sirius asked. you shook your head, "i need help telling him. i don't want him to freak out and get upset that i know. i fancy him too, you know." you mumbled.

the boys smirked. "we knew it."

"are you going to help or not?" you asked in annoyance. james sighed, "listen, tomorrow morning you can visit him in the hospital wing. he usually spends a day or two there to make sure he's healthy."

you nodded understandingly. they bid goodbye, and headed to their dorms, while you waited outside for a moment.

——

the next morning, you brushed your hair and teeth, got dressed, and made a beeline for the hospital wing. james was waiting outside already, but right as you were going to enter, madam pomfrey stopped you.

"mr. potter, you know that mr. lupin only allows three visitors." she said promptly.

"but madam pomfrey—"

"mr. potter." she interjected sternly, "she simply cannot come inside unless she is injured."

you took a deep breath and turned to james. you thought of solutions, but only one thing came to mind.

"punch me." you said bluntly.

"what?! no! i'm not—"

"just do it, james!"

"no! why would i—"

"oh my god! just punch me!" you exclaimed. you could see james panick internally, but he gave you an apologetic look, and swung at you with his fist.

it collided with your cheek, and damn it did it hurt.

"ow!"

"i'm sorry! i'm so sorry!" james rambled, you shook it off.

"it's fine. am i allowed inside, madam pomfrey? this'll leave a bruise for sure." you remarked. she huffed and nodded, going to the back.

you and james shared an accomplished look, but you quickly rushed over to remus, who was lying down.

before you could think about it, you pressed your lips to his, cupping his face gently.

you quickly pulled away. "i'm glad to see you're alright..." you trailed nervously, not meeting his eyes.

he gaped at you.

"...also, i know your secret." you added quietly.

"but don't worry! i still fancy you back! in fact, it's not really that bad! well, i'm sure it's not ideal, but i still see you as the same person i fancy? wait, did i say that out loud? forget that part, but i still see you as the same remus—"

he laughed, "just kiss me, you idiot."

you smiled and kissed his face repeatedly, mainly going for the scars if possible.

"yeah mate, she's a piece of work. made me punch her just so she could see you." james chuckled, "also, y/n, you have very strong cheek bones."

you waved him off, pulling remus into another kiss.

"okay, we should probably go..." sirius trailed. james chuckled and dragged the other two out.

finally, you pulled away and sat down next to him. he chuckled, looking at your cheek in concern.

"does it hurt?" he asked.

you rolled your eyes, "remus. poor sweet, innocent remus. i got a plate to the head. don't tell him, but james hits like my baby cousin."

remus laughed, clutching his stomach. you grinned, feeling a sense of relief.

"i can't believe you made him punch you when you could've faked an injury."

"oh shut up, it seemed reasonable at the time."

bonus;

you began to stir the potion, watching your baby play in his playpen. you finally took out the stirrer and used a pipette to put some of the potion in small vials. your husband wouldn’t need much of it, but you had made a large batch anyway. you never wanted him to go without the one potion that actually made him feel better.

despite being horrid at potions at times, you’d do anything to help remus, even going as far to make a potion that was more than just complicated to make.

remus’ footsteps descended from the stairs, before making his way inside your kitchen.

he came down with a small smile, trying to hide the fact that he was so obviously tired and hungry. it wasn’t as though he could keep much down. if it wasn’t raw meat, he felt like he would vomit.

“hello, my beautiful wife,” he smiled, kissing your cheek gently. he rounded the island and picked up your baby boy, tossing him and catching him. he held him close, your son bursting into a fit of giggles at his dads antics.

“remus, put our baby down and eat or so help me god—!” you began irritably. although you loved your husband, being pregnant with your daughter didn’t exactly help your mood swings of irritability.

“sorry, buddy,” remus whispered loudly to your son, “your mummy happens to be very strict,”

“she’s a piece of work,” he told your son, making you roll your eyes and fight back your smile. “but she’s my piece of work, you’ll find your piece of work one day,”

“hey, james warned you when you met me! you knew who i was!” you replied.

he put your son down in his playpen again, grinning at you as he rounded the corner and brought you close to him. he kissed your head, brushing your hair back.

“of course, why do you think i married you?” he grinned.

“very suave,” you chuckled. “eat your damn soup,”

“yes ma’am,” remus grinned, kissing you swiftly.

[viktuurionice]

Venting /// sorry gkdkksksk

I told my sunt that on week's where I'm working 39 hours a week, that I don't want to do dishes. I only have to do them 2 nights in a week, which isn't a lot but considering I'm exhausted and working so I can get my own place and get out of everyone's hair I don't think it's too much to not want to do dishes.

But after taking a 3 hour nap I got a lecture about how the teenagers are out of the house for 12 hours a day for school and extra curriculars (also mentioning they like and enjoy their extra curriculars. They've chosen this) and they still get their chores and stuff done. Which... Is a fair point. But they're not disabled. Neither of them are disabled. They're both fully functioning and have been doing this for years. Again, they're not fucking DISABLED. And ARE CHOOSING THINGS THEY ENJOY.

I'm disabled and this is the first time I've managed anything other than part time in VERY short increments in about 10 years. My fucking disability no one believes in is disabling and I'm not spending an hour on dishes while I've been on my feet all day.

Also wanna point out this is conveniently ignoring her son that's in his mid 20s and has never worked a job in his fucking life, who went to bed 30 minutes after I got up this morning.

I'm not spending 12 hours a day doing shit for other people. Make the NEET do it. I'm not even spending an extra hour after a full shift doing it, make the fucking NEET do it.

"what exchange are you going to give?"

Idfk me being rested enough to not be a raging cunt? Me moving into my own place as soon as I'm able? Dude I'm in PAIN. And you bitch when I take ibuprofen like it's a hard drug. I'm too tired to even remember the non over the counter pain meds. But that's sure what my family acts like ibuprofen is. Well, if I'd been able to go to a fucking urgent care for my wrist they probably would have told me to take fucking ibuprofen. Jfjskskdkdkks

Don't complain about me acting drugged, I just flipped my sleep schedule on its head and I haven't slept through the night without a sleep aid for as long as I can remember, and I don't like taking sleep aids because they make me drowsy. Lower your fucking expectations. Of course I'm fucking tired.

I'm allowed to read or draw for a bit if I have the energy, not spend an hour on dishes. I will, not be doing that. Especially after standing and moving boxes and stocking shelves and otherwise moving around for over 8 hours.

If I'm not able to do something to keep my head on straight soon I will simply kill myself and let that be your problem. I was going to do that a few months ago anyway, I am not attached to survival. If you make it unpleasant I will simply peace out. I'm done. I've been done. "Well that's life." Cool!!! I don't fucking want it. I don't care. "Cook all your meals! It saves money! All your doing is paying for other people's labor! Everyone still does their chores! Dogs are loud, so are kids!" I DO NOT CARE. I can buy ready made meals to save time! I value my time more than cheap food! I value my time more than organic food. I was able to do all my own chores before, it's called a fucking dishwasher and not having to hand wash everything before putting the dishes in. Your dog barks a lot because you treat her like a human toddler when she's a dog. You haven't trained her NOT to bark. In fact you've trained her to bark in order to get whatever she fucking wants. So SHE BARKS ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Every human child I've been around since becoming an adult is quieter than your fucking dog. "Dogs bark" yeah, no shit. I'm pretty sure I've had more dogs than you. I at least know how to train them better, but I'll never own one again.

Like lower the fucking bar for fucks sake.

[venerex]

chérie

pairing: duke! minghao x reader

word count: 2.5k

contains: oral (f receiving), fingering, virgin!reader

a/n: ooooh boy. hi @97-liners. based on this au idea i thought of. i was honestly going to write a very small drabble but i just....kept elaborating. written in one sitting in the middle of the night, not proofread at all. i'm sorry if this is too wordy :')

part 1 (chérie) | part 2 (the poet) | part 3 (mon amour)

considering how much you drank, you wake up with a remarkably clear head.

you also wake up alone, an occurrence that hasn't happened since you and your husband started sharing a bed - in the literal sense. you didn't think you'd ever sleep in the same bed as the duke, seeing how your marriage was one of convenience - but a particularly thunderous night had changed that course, and you've slept in his arms ever since.

not for the first time in the last few days, you wonder where your relationship with your husband stands. the two of you had kissed last week after attending a local farmer's party, both elated with the improvement in yield that the crops had shown - largely as a result of your plans. you haven't talked about the kiss since then, both of you pretending it didn't happen - until last night.

you had had a little too much wine when your husband came out from his art room, having worked on a painting since noon. "you have such beautiful lips, hao", you had said when he smiled, using the nickname you had been itching to call him by. he was a little taken aback by the unfamiliar display of familiarity from you, but had recovered quickly and gently taken you in his arms, carrying you to his room.

you don't know if you're glad or sorry that you remember what happened next. you had kissed him when he placed you on his bed, aggressively pulling at his shirt while biting his lip. "not now, love", he had pulled back and said, "i want you, but you need to be in your right mind". you had tried again, but to no success. he then helped you change and held you as you drifted off, crooning the lullaby he sang the first night you spent in his bed. and now you're here, alone in his bed, left to stew on your drunken actions.

sighing, you get up - you know trying to go back to sleep is futile. you clean up and set off to the place you know he'll be - in the balcony connected to the art room, the most secluded place in the castle, immune to disturbances from others.

you walk through the door of the art room, taking in the paintings against the walls and the half-opened lid of the piano in the corner. you stop at the balcony door, admiring your husband's silhouette under the moonlight - his thin shirt giving away the shape of his back, his hair waving lightly in the wind.

"you're not supposed to be awake", you always thought he was a bat in his previous life.

"i could say the same about you, your grace".

minghao turns, and you stop breathing for a second. one might think that living with him would've made you immune to his beauty, but no - you're only more enchanted by your husband, finding him more magnificent with each drop of familiarity.

"that's not what you called me last evening", there's a teasing glint in his eyes.

we've come so far, you think. you remember your first conversation with the duke, when he had proposed an unconventional marriage of convenience to you - you were a bored socialite in need of a husband who didn't expect you to sit at home and look pretty, and he was a new duke who inherited a failed estate and didn't know how to revive it back. you've grown comfortable with each other in the last few months, spending hours together everyday, pouring over reports and talking to the local community - going from strangers to spouses to friends to, well, whatever you were now.

you walk towards him, stopping two steps away.

"i apologize for my behavior last night", you fight the urge to look away from his intent eyes, "it was most indecent".

"most indecent, indeed", one hand reaches to hold yours, "seducing your husband". he pulls you close, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"your very willing husband, at that", the whisper in your ear makes you shiver.

"not willing enough, apparently", you mutter before you can help it.

minghao pulls back to look at you, a hand moving to cup your reddening cheek.

"i meant what i said", he says, his eyes tender, "i want you", his fingers move a stray strand from your face, "in every way a man can want a woman".

you blush, not expecting his earnest confession. it appears you're not the only one who has been brewing over your relationship in recent days.

"then take me, hao".

he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, and you only have a second to see the storm in them before he kisses you, your eyes shutting automatically at the sensation, your sighs melting into the kiss as he pulls you close. this is only your third kiss, but you're already addicted to the feeling of his lips against yours.

you raise your hands to his hair, reveling in his low groan when you tug slightly, his arm around your waist pulling you even closer as his tongue enters your mouth.

he pulls away and you whine at the loss, pouting slightly at his giggles as he leads you somewhere. it's to the sole table on the balcony, you realize, where you've shared many meals and discussions about estate taxes - and the knowledge almost makes you moan.

minghao lifts you on the table, his lips finding yours as soon as your bottom touches the cotton spread. you pull at his shirt for the second time this night, and he obliges you this time - pulling it off in a smooth move as he chuckles at your impatience. you manage to catch a glimpse of his bare chest before his lips latch on to your neck, sucking lightly as they trail down to the neckline of your dress.

later, you think, when we're more patient, i'll trace every line on your skin.

"may i?", he murmurs against the neckline of your nightdress, his hands gently pulling at the front.

"please, hao", you can barely hear your voice.

"do you know", he undoes one button, his lips tracing the newly revealed skin, "how many times", another button, "i've imagined", another button, "doing this here?"

his hands pull your almost-undone nightdress, and you moan at the sensation of cold air hitting your nipples. you look up to see minghao staring at you, his breathing slightly heavy as he takes you in.

"you're so beautiful, ma chérie", he murmurs, almost in wonder - and you feel yourself flush.

the years he's spent in french society don't show themselves very often, but you've realized that his french learnings slip out when he's shocked or spellbound - and the knowledge makes your heart beat faster.

his hands lightly push the thin straps of your nightdress down your arms, stopping when there's enough slack for him to pull the garment down to expose your stomach. his hands lightly trace up your body - slowly moving up from your stomach to your breasts, squeezing the mounds gently as your nipples rub against his palms.

you gasp, your head tipping back as you try to hold your position, your hands bracing against the wood. minghao's hands leave your breasts and he pushes you slightly, coaxing you to lie down as one of his hands gently places your head on the table.

he moves to hover over you, his lips softly kissing the the top of your breasts as his fingers circle your nipples, before flicking them lightly. he takes one nipple in his mouth, licking slightly before sucking, his fingers gently pinching and twisting the other. he repeats the motion with the other nipple, groaning slightly against your chest when your hands fist in his hair, the vibration making your clit ache.

if you weren't so desperate, you might've been worried about your moans being audible to anyone in proximity of the balcony.

he pulls up and kisses you harshly, his hands squeezing your breasts as you buck your hips for some relief.

"i want to taste you", he murmurs against your lips, "will you let me taste you, chérie?"

"yes", you gasp against his mouth, too desperate to feel embarrassed at the obscene request.

his lips leave yours, trailing kisses down your body until he reaches the fabric of your nightdress at the bottom of your stomach. with a quick tug and a rise of your hips, he pulls the dress off, the thin fabric pooling on the floor as you lie naked under the moonlight.

he continues kissing downward, his hands gently separating your legs slightly when you close them, his head looking up when you whine in embarrassment.

"let me see, chérie", he places a soft kiss on your thigh, "i want to see my wife".

you relent, your legs relaxing as he rubs your thighs, his languid eyes looking at yours as you nod slightly. in this moment, you don't think you can deny him anything.

he pushes your legs further apart, feeling no resistance from you. you whimper at the feeling of cold air hitting your wet cunt, his hands pushing your hips back to the table when you raise them for relief.

"i know, my love, i know", he coos, his eyes transfixed at your cunt, "you're so lovely, chérie. and so wet, mm?"

you bite your lip and whimper, pleas of minghao's name escaping you - to do something, to do anything.

he must've thought you've had enough, for he moves to kiss your inner thigh lightly, his arms firmly holding down your thighs as you feel his lips so close to where you want him.

"please", you whimper, "please, hao. i can't - want something - "

your pleas turn into moans when you feel his lips on your clit, placing gentle kisses on the throbbing nub while you moan lowly. then, he looks up to you - his eyes meeting yours as he touches his tongue flat against your clit. your hands claw at the cotton spread, your moans getting louder at the unfamiliar and overwhelming sensation.

minghao pulls back and dives in again - this time focusing on a particular part of your clit, licking the spot repeatedly as you feel yourself getting closer to a release, your pleas sounding increasingly incoherent.

you feel somewhat unsatisfied even as you sense your orgasm, and you realize that you feel empty. you wouldn't even think of voicing something so lewd in usual circumstances, but you're too far gone to consider propriety.

"hao", you garble, hoping he can understand you, "feel empty".

minghao stops and looks up, his hands holding your thighs apart as he raises a brow. you hear the silent order: repeat that.

"i - ", you gulp, feeling suddenly shy under his stare, "i feel empty".

he looks at you for a second before attaching his lips to your clit, his tongue finding that spot again as you feel your orgasm creeping back. his eyes meet yours and you feel a finger circling your entrance, slowly prodding your hole as his tongue gentles on your clit.

his finger glides in easily, your wet hole putting up little resistance as he massages your walls slowly. the feeling is very slightly uncomfortable, but any pain is overtaken by the relief of feeling full. he curls his finger upwards, hitting the sensitive spot inside you, his eyes taking in your reaction as his tongue fastens its ministrations on your clit.

you're coming before you can alert your husband to it - your hands clutching the cotton spread under you, your thighs shaking under his arms as he softens the licks to your clit, his finger slowly massaging your walls.

he pulls away when you whine from sensitivity, his eyes meeting your hazy ones as he sucks on his finger to clean your wetness. you feel your skin heating up at the action, your cunt twitching slightly at his moan of appreciation.

he grasps your hands and pulls you up gently, his lips lightly tracing your ear as he hovers over you.

"how do you feel?", his hands rub your sides soothingly.

"good", your voice is raspy, "i - uh - i liked that".

he gives you a sweet smile before kissing you slowly, pulling you closer by the waist, letting your bare chest touch his.

"i'm glad", he whispers, "you deserve to feel good".

you don't know if it's your post-orgasmic state, or the feeling of minghao's heartbeat against yours, or the vision of his gentle face under the moonlight - you have an epiphany.

you've never understood what drives the painters and the poets to be so inspired by someone that they dedicate themselves to creating immortal art for their muses. you get it now, you realize.

you can't paint and you can't write poems, but you want to do both of those things - and the hundred other things lovers do - for minghao.

"what are you thinking, chérie?", his voice is soft, as if to not disturb the night.

"i love you", you're more comfortable with the notion than you would've thought. you suppose you've known it for a while, even if you haven't consciously acknowledged it.

it seems rather obvious to you now. how could you not love him? you've seen how he cares for the people he's responsible for - even though he's never wanted the title and was never given the appropriate education. you've seen how he remembers the birthdays of the village kids, and never fails to send them gifts - but never under his own name because he doesn't want anyone to feel indebted to him. you've witnessed how magnificent he is in his element as a painter - his passion visible through every stroke of his brush.

how could you not love him? you've seen him respect your decisions and your autonomy even when he's expected not to. you've watched as he defended your opinion in subjects where women aren't supposed to have opinions. you've seen him bring you cupcakes that you like at parties when you're bored. you've felt his arms around you when you break down, comforting you when you doubt yourself.

how could you not love him?

"i love you too, chérie", he says softly, his hands tenderly cupping your face.

you smile. he smiles back.

you move to kiss him softly, your hands tracing his chest, reveling in his small sighs. you stop at the waistband of his trousers, tugging them down slightly before he stops your hands.

"not here, my love", he sounds slightly breathless, "on our bed. we can christen this table later".

a/n: if you'd like more of duke!minghao x reader, check out the au masterlist.