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0cta9on · 7 months

Text

FFF2+4

length: +2k words

Genre: Smut

Le Sserafim Sakura x Male Reader

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Your hand lazily inserts the key into your apartment and unlocks the door. You want to slam it behind you in anger, but you’re too tired to even manage that. Working at the convenience store was supposed to be easy, just a little side hustle you can do to make some cash while you go through school. However, you failed to anticipate the long and arduous days of being yelled at by customers over things you have no power over, all for minimum wage. Your piece of shit manager doesn’t make things easier as all she does is sit on her phone while you’re the one that has to run around like a dog just to maintain the store. With a heavy sigh, you collapse face-first into the couch, just barely fighting the urge to suffocate in between the cushions and end your suffering once and for all.

“You good?”

You turn your attention to your roommate Sakura, who’s sitting on the floor, immersed in a fighting game on the TV. Sakura seldom talks and has a bit of an unnerving air about her, but she always kept the common areas clean and upheld her side of the chores so you considered her to be the perfect roommate in your book. You’ve managed to warm up to each other a little bit over the years, yet she always remained as sort of an enigma to you. You rarely talked due to always being busy with work or school, but whenever you did see her, she was always playing some kind of video game. Supposedly she makes money from streaming herself playing these games to thousands of people. You didn’t really understand, but you didn’t really need to anyway.

Your body slides off the couch onto the floor next to her, your eyes glazing over the flashing colors on the screen. “I’m fine,” you utter. “What are you playing?”

“Tekken 8,” she answers, her eyes never leaving the screen. “You wanna play?”

“I think I’ll stick to watching you.” Video games were never really your thing, but you could admire how skillful Sakura looked with the way her slender fingers quickly pressed the right buttons at the right time, her eyes glaring with focus. The blue light of the TV reflects off of her pale skin, making her look ethereal despite wearing a simple crop top and a pale blue tracksuit. Since when did Sakura look so attractive?

Before you knew it, you were suddenly face to face with the back of Sakura’s blonde head, your legs splayed out on either side of her. She was too focused on the game to notice you pressing up against her, which you took as a sign to take things further. Maybe it was the exhaustion and the stress seeping its way into your brain, but you needed some kind of release and Sakura just happened to be at the right place at the right time.

Your hands slowly snake their way up her toned abs, grazing her soft skin with your fingertips and stopping at the hem of her top. Sakura hasn’t made any move to stop you, you wonder if she even noticed you at all. You lift up her top, pleasantly surprised to see her wearing no bra underneath. Her breasts are the perfect size and shape to fit into the palms of your hands, soft yet firm like a stress ball. With each gentle squeeze, all the stress you procured over the day begins to drain from your body, and your erection starts to strain against your pants, pressing into Sakura’s lower back. Lust takes over your body as your breath gets heavier and your heart pounds in your chest. Your lips latch onto the back of her exposed neck, kissing and licking her porcelain skin.

“You’re gonna make me lose,” she says, her voice monotone. You momentarily pause to chuckle at her nonchalance. Her body was being ravished by her roommate, yet all she cared about was winning her little game. You found it oddly cute in a weird way.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, punctuating your sentence with a kiss on her neck. “How about this? If you win while I play with your body, I’ll give you $10.”

“Make it $20 and I’ll let you fuck me afterward.”

“Deal.” Almost immediately, your hand lunges into the waistband of her pants while your other hand pinches Sakura’s nipples. To your surprise, her panties had a sizable wet spot on them - despite her lack of a reaction, she was way into this. As you apply pressure against the wet spot, you hear her breath hitch in her throat, her body shivering upon contact. You had her right where you wanted her.

As much as you would love to take your time to make her feel good, you also didn’t want to easily give up the $20 you worked so hard for. You move her panties to the side to give you easier access to the honey pot lying underneath. Her lips were already coated in her slick juices as you teased her hole with your digits. A small groan escapes her mouth right as she wins the first round with a sliver of health left.

“Ooooh, that was a close one, Kkura,” you tease, chuckling into her ear. “Maybe this’ll be easier than I thought.”

Sakura stays quiet, her focus on the game unwavering. Right as the second round starts, you shove two fingers deep inside her hot, velvety core, eliciting a cute moan from the Japanese girl. The slickness of her arousal coats your fingers, allowing you to thrust in and out of her with ease. The texture of her inner walls is like silk wrapped around steel - soft and smooth, yet firm and unyielding. You watch with enjoyment as Sakura slowly becomes undone. Lustful moans continued to escape her lips, and her fingers began to spaz out with each thrust of your hand, causing her character to lose health. Her grip on the controller tightened with frustration but quickly dissipates as you continue to finger her pussy. Miraculously, she somehow managed to win the second round, albeit with a smaller margin than before.

“Hmm, I guess I should start trying now, huh?” You quicken the pace of your hand while your thumb rubs against her clit, sending shockwaves of pleasure through Sakura’s body. Her breathy moans fill the air as she tries desperately to ignore the lust threatening to take over her body. The walls of her pussy tighten around your fingers as she grows closer to her orgasm, her hips rocking subtly with each thrust, inadvertently rubbing her butt against your erection. Your breath grew heavy with excitement, but you didn’t want to end the fun just yet. Right when you think she’s about to cum, you remove your hand from her heat, denying her the satisfaction of a release. Sakura turns to you with a fire in her eyes, causing her to lose her first round.

You chuckle in her face. “What’s with that look?” you ask, taunting her with a sly smirk. From all your years of knowing her, this is the most emotion you have ever seen her display. You couldn’t help but find it cute how much she wanted to cum.

“Whatever…” She grumbles in annoyance before turning back to the screen. You place a gentle kiss on the back of her neck, a symbol of your apology. However, you aren’t apologizing for not taking her all the way. In fact, this is an apology made in advance - you’re about to make things so much more difficult for her.

Instead of pulling the trigger and assaulting her wetness like she wants you to, you decide to tease her by gently rubbing your fingers over the cloth of her crotch, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it but not enough for her to get off. Your other hand traces gentle circles on her breasts, tickling her skin with your fingernails. Sakura lets out a huff of irritation. She so badly wanted to feel your fingers inside of her, but unfortunately for her, her pride was stronger than her lust, and throwing the game for her own pleasure was just not a viable option. Her sexual frustration gets the better of her and the poor girl ends up losing the round in a complete stomp, leaving just one more round to decide whether or not you would be out $20.

“Ugh…” She groans while pinching the bridge of her nose.

“What’s the matter? Just one more win and you get $20, easy as pie,” you say, smirking mischievously. Sakura simply shrugged it off, putting all her attention into the game, but little did she know how dirty you planned on playing the final round.

Right as the in-game announcer starts the final round, you push Sakura forward so that she’s now on all fours, her perfect ass in the air. Despite the compromising change in position, she kept her grip on her controller and her focus on winning. You didn’t let her stay comfortable for long as you grabbed the waistband of her velvet sweatpants and pulled it down along with her panties, exposing her plump cheeks in one fell swoop. Her pussy stains her thighs with her sweet nectar, ready for you to ravish her hole. All your patience is about to pay off as you free your erection from its prison, lining it up with Sakura’s core. With one thrust, you completely bottom out inside of her, causing a high-pitched moan to come out of her mouth. Your fingers sink into the plush flesh of her hips, pulling her towards you with each thrust. The sight of her modest yet plump ass vibrating with an audible slap of skin against skin is worth way more than $20, yet here you are, enjoying it all for free. Sakura’s pussy squeezes your cock with her slick walls, her climax quickly approaching thanks to the work of your fingers earlier. At this point, your roommate was a complete mess in front of you, dropping her controller and letting her opponent knock out her character without any fight. Right as the big red “DEFEAT” pops up on the screen, Sakura lets out a long moan, announcing her orgasm. You hold her hips down on the base of your cock as her body shakes with pleasure, her juices spilling down your legs and staining your work pants.

Sakura collapses onto the ground as you pull out of her, giving you a moment to catch your breath. As much as you would love to dump your entire load into her pretty pussy, you decide to show her mercy in this instance. Games aren’t fun if you win them right away.

Slowly, Sakura props herself up. Her chest rises and falls with each heavy breath and you can’t help but become mesmerized by her breasts. In turn, she stares at your dick, still glistening with her nectar. She discards her disheveled clothing, and like a kitten stalking its prey, she crawls towards you with unblinking eyes. Normally, her face void of emotion would be hard to read, but at this moment, you knew exactly what she was thinking. Her lips hungrily latch onto yours as she straddles your lap, grasping onto your cock to line it up with her dripping cunt. Your hands automatically gravitate towards her hips as you pull her down onto your lap, forcing her to take all of you at once. Sakura groans into your mouth, wrapping her arms around your head and pulling you deeper into the sloppy kiss.

As she bounces on your dick, you completely forget about all the shit you faced at work. Hell, you would gladly work at the shit hole if it meant getting to fuck your cute roommate every day. The thought gets you more excited as you meet Sakura’s hips with thrusts of your own, simultaneously breaking the kiss to suckle on her perfect bouncing tits. Her shrill moans and the slaps of your skin against hers fill your ears, driving you closer to the edge.

“S-Sakura… I’m about to c-cum…” You warn her, breathless.

“I-inside… C-cum inside me…”

With your grip tightened on her waist, you slam her down onto your cock, forcing your entire length inside as you shoot ropes of your semen into her cunt. Sakura meets your orgasm with one of her own, her pussy pulsating and milking your cock. Her body collapses onto you as both of you catch your breath.

“Well, that was something,” you say to fill the empty space. Sakura answers with a hot shaky breath against your neck. Five minutes pass before her breathing finally comes back to normal. “Soooo… Same time tomorrow?” You ask, half-jokingly. Sakura gets up from your neck with the same blank expression as always.

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

#le sserafim #miyawaki sakura #le sserafim sakura #kpop fanfic #kpop gg #sakura x male oc #le sserafim sakura x male oc #sakura x male reader #le sserafim sakura x male reader #smut #sakura smut #le sserafim sakura smut

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romaritimeharbor · 6 months

Text

FAMILY, OF SORTS. — in which kafka, blade, and silver wolf are an odd but quite special found family to be a part of.

— trigger & content warnings. mentions of unspecified injury.

— pairings & notes. fluff, found family. kafka & teen!reader, blade & teen!reader, silver wolf & teen!reader. 1.3k words. reader is a stellaron hunter. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns used).

— author's notes. the sillies <3 APHE POSTING???? APHELION POSTING REAL AND TRUE????????? i had a request for this on my old blog (from my dear beloved moot @starryshinyskies <3) so i decided to finish it 💪 nd tagging @www-brontide since i know you were excited for this post HEHE anyways how are we feeling about this formatting? if you guys don't like it i'm very open to changing it back. i'm just experimenting with my post format is all 🫶

kafka seems strangely motherly to me. caring and doting in her own unique ways, but also quite strange and odd in those same ways. an enigma of sorts.

she is the kind of person to always send the stellaron hunters' youngest member texts throughout the day; these texts range anywhere from silly and inconsequential to sweet messages letting [name] know that she was thinking about them.

(her doting nature is not dissimilar to how she thinks of and regards the trailblazer... hm.)

KAFKA

My coat got stained again :(

Won't you help me clean it when you get home, little one?

[ 1:22 PM ]

KAFKA

I saw a new movie today.

It made me think of you. It was quite to your tastes.

Perhaps we should go see it together sometime, hm?

Ah, but you're probably asleep by now...

That's fine. You do need it more than the rest of us.

Sleep well, darling.

[ 11:34 PM ]

she thinks of her little one quite frequently and has been known to pick up little trinkets from different planets that reminded her of them. a phone charm, a set of rings, something more practical like a new weapon... she once returned with a nice coat that matches one of hers. her gifts are always unpredictable but nonetheless very thoughtful.

and when or if they get injured, she is the one who treats their wound(s) with a tender hand.

she does chide them, however.

"you are a stellaron hunter, little one," she reminds, pulling the bandages wrapped around their wound a little tighter, making them wince. it is akin to a slap on the wrist—not enough pain to seriously harm them, but enough to force them to take her words to heart. "if it is not a part of the plan, try your best not to get caught or injured, hm? silver wolf doesn't like to see you this way, and it causes a unique stir in bladie. your getting injured causes quite the unrest among us all! do be more careful next time."

if there is ever a night during which they are struggling to sleep, they are more than welcome to seek out kafka's company.

she would be willing to read them to sleep, if that is what they desired.

however... a far easier method that would ensure they would stay asleep? her spirit whisper ability, of course.

they know kafka would not use it to harm them.

kafka finds their earnest trust beyond endearing. the trust of a little one like them is quite an important gift! the least she can do, she thinks, is assist them when her assistance is needed.

and sometimes, that just means lulling them to sleep.

blade is quite a difficult person to read, regardless of whether he intends to be so or not.

some days, he is distant and prefers to keep to himself. others, less so.

this, though, should not be mistaken for a lack of care. in fact, he cares quite deeply. his care is simply very quiet and he desperately, earnestly, truly does not wish to cause [name] harm.

he is also most likely the one who spars with them and trains them in the ways of combat, which... he isn't exactly the gentlest at doing. training sessions can be quite frustrating in that they often emerge sore and with new cuts and bruises (but really, these injuries are small and insignificant; they are confident in saying that blade would never truly hurt them, nobody in their family would). he does mean well in his tough methods, though.

the universe is not kind or gentle. it will never treat them that way. therefore, he does his best to prepare them so that they can effectively handle the universe's cruelty and defend themselves from it.

one of the ways in which his quiet care manifests is through his treatment of the small wounds he gives them during training. kafka has said many times that she can treat them, but blade always insists on doing it himself.

out of all of their coworkers, blade becomes the most restless when they're away. he gets particularly antsy when they've been gone for a long period or when they're out there alone. kafka always giggles and points out to him how utterly restless he becomes when such circumstances occur.

(he should be assured that they can handle themselves, given that he is their mentor—there is surely nobody else who would know their skills as well as he would—but somehow he simply isn't.)

blade is also, generally speaking, the most protective.

should they come back injured... if it is anything other than a shallow scratch on the cheek, a rage hotter than the brightest star burns under his skin. in those moments, he almost does not dare to touch them, for fear that he might harm them unwittingly... but he does. his hands are somewhat rough when he snatches their face and tilts their chin around to get a better look at the blood (is it theirs? he hopes not) and grime dirtying their face. there is a terrifying threat present in his voice when he demands, not asks, "who did this to you?"

(if kafka was not present in these moments, he might worry that his mara would get the best of him. thankfully, kafka is intentional and present in such situations.)

unless the ones responsible for the wound have already been adequately... taken care of, he will do so himself. there is nowhere in the universe that the perpetrators could hide from him.

it's about protecting them, but it is also about sending a message.

something along the lines of "anyone who lays hands on them will suffer a fate worse than death," perhaps.

death is anything but a terrible fate to blade, but he knows that it is the worst imaginable to some. he will be certain to deliver something infinitely worse, something beyond imagination, to those daring to hurt his younger teammate.

silver wolf is perhaps the least enigmatic of their little family. she isn't an open book, per se, but she's easier to read than kafka or blade... at least, for someone like [name], anyway.

she never fails to harrass them to play a few rounds (which tends to spiral into many, many rounds...) of a game or two with her. why them, specifically? she insists that blade isn't good at them and kafka is kafka. really, it may very well just be that she enjoys spending time with them, but she—of course—will not simply say that.

however... she bullies them terribly about how bad they are. it comes from a place of affection!

she is also the type to win them every single prize at carnivals, just because she likes the joy it seems to bring them. when she encounters rigged games, however, she becomes all the more motivated by her unadulterated annoyance to beat them.

what do you mean she of all people can't beat this awful and horrible rigged game? her???? the silver wolf????? seriously????????

unfortunately, it does not always end in her victory, even when she is infinitely motivated by her anger.

...and she really isn't above just taking one of the prizes when the stall's owner isn't looking. she has done so multiple times for [name].

she would definitely try to teach them hacking (keyword: try) if they aren't already familiar with it. since it has come in handy for her, she figures that they might also find use in it. it's her quiet way of looking out for them.

(her more obvious way of looking out for them is often seen when she is on missions with them. most commonly, it manifests as her snatching their arm and pulling them out of the way of an enemy before obliterating said threat.)

silver wolf is totally the sort of person to pinch their cheeks (to different degrees, kafka and blade also do this!). they are very cute to her.

overall they are a weird but very special little family to be a part of <3

please consider supporting your writers by reblogging and leaving a kind tag or comment. it really helps me out!

#✧— aphe's creations.#divider by @/cafekitsune ♡#bonus: elio is your weird uncle that shows up on holidays gives you credits and tells you enigmatic secrets /hj /lh #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #kafka x reader #blade x reader #silver wolf x reader #platonic hsr #platonic honkai star rail #hsr platonic #platonic x reader #platonic kafka x reader #platonic blade x reader #platonic silver wolf x reader

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vinomino · 3 months

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r/relationship_advice

u/vinomino

I (##F) have a crush on my boss (##M) who’s seven years older than me. He’s hot and so dreamy. He doesn’t have a wife or kids btw. Last week I overheard that he doesn't have a girlfriend either. Should I go for it?

Featuring: Umemiya Hajime x f!Reader

Contents: mdni 18+, restaurant owner!Umemiya x employee!reader, older!umemiya x younger!reader, unprotected sex, reader makes Ume creampie her, breeding, baby trapping(?), public sex, pregnancy

WC: 1.5k

You started working at Umemiya’s restaurant for some quick cash. The job pays well, but what really sold you was how fine Umemiya was. You never knew you had a thing for older men until your friend introduced you to him.

Umemiya was an enigma to you. A bunch of guys would the stop by on the daily, he told you they were his friends from high-school. It had you wondering how popular he was to have this many hard looking dudes showing him respect. Umemiya seems so perfect to you, he’s attractive, kind, friendly, and knew how to cook.

“Ugh, he’s just so dreamy.” You’re daydreaming to your friends again over some barbecue. “Do you want to fuck him or be his wife.” She chuckles. “Obviously number two, if I was his wife, I would’ve gave him three kids by now.” You sigh out making them all break out laughing. “Isn’t he seven years older than you?” One of them inquires. “It’s not that bad! Seven years is like nothing. I’m a grown woman.” You say waving your hand.

You detailedly remembered when he kicked out a customer for harassing you. The way he so easily picked the guy up and threw him out into the street. It had you fantasizing that night about how little effort he would need to put in to fold you like a pretzel. Umemiya was big, a six foot two hunk, so he was probably packing too.

Sitting around a table after the restaurant closes, enjoying a drink with your coworkers and boss. You’re trying not to stare too much at Umemiya’s biceps. “Umemiya-san let me help out! After all you treated us.” You exclaim, “Huh, sure!” He grins. The rest of the team has gone home, leaving you two alone. You’re wiping down the tables, “I’ll add a bonus pay to your check, you’ve been such a help.” Umemiya thanks you while putting the chairs up. “It’s no problem.” It’s not a problem at all when you get to spend more time with him.

Finishing up with the table, you take a step back. “Woah!” Umemiya shouts out from right behind you. “Sorry I was just trying to squeeze past.”

“O-Oh, I didn’t see you—“ You squeak out and try to move away. “W-Wait— shit— don’t do that…d-don’t move.” He grips your hips to hold you in place. “U-Umemiya-San…?” Your ass is smooshed right up against his crotch.

Umemiya would be lying if you weren’t attractive. Some customers kept coming back to the place in order to see you and he had to throw out one too many douches who got too comfortable. Hell, even his juniors ogled at you sometimes. “Aren’t you gonna settle down soon?” Hiragi asks, taking another swing of his beer. “What makes you say that?”

“Just thought you would be the kind of guy who’d have kids by now.” His old friend squints his eyes. “Nope, still haven’t met the right girl.” Umemiya scratches his chin.

“Seriously? What about her? You two look kinda close.” Umemiya follows Hiragi’s finger to you, working at the register. “She single? How old is she anyways…” Umemiya feels his eye twitch as Hiragi scans you. “She’s seven years younger.”

Hiragi eyes almost bulge out his head, “Yer kidding.” He covers his stomach feeling a subtle ache. “Well, I gotta get back to work.” Umemiya pats his shoulder and stands up making his way over to help you ring a customer out.

It wasn’t a secret some of the old Furin boy’s thought you were pretty. But to think you, a young sweet charming girl was working at a establishment in this part of town, left Hiragi wondering why Umemiya did something so out of character.

“Umemiya-San?” You turn your head to look at him. He lets out a low groan, scrunching up his brows. Your ass felt so plushy against his clothed dick. You feel his tent poke at you, was this really happening? “You’ve been giving me fuck-me eyes since you started working here.” He thumbs at your bottom lip. “Driving me crazy.”

The initial shock dissipated. “Really? I thought it was only me…” You smirk, grinding back into him. The friction had his mouth slightly parted. “You’re a vixen.” He hisses. “Wanna find out?” You stick your tongue out to lick his thumb.

He was going to find out. Your jeans were pooled at your ankles as he bent you over the table to ravage your insides. “U-Ume!” You squeal when he bring a hand down to your jiggling ass. You can probably imagine how red your cheeks were from the spanking. “Damn—pussy’s so tight…” He lets out a deep moan. You’re gurgling when he buries himself to the hilt and grinds against your sweet spot. “H-haah—!” You were right, Umemiya was packing. Atleast eight inches, girthy, and veiny. The biggest cock you’ve ever taken.

Shit, it felt so fucking good. Had your eyes rolling back into your sockets. He was skillfully rubbing at your clit too. You wonder if he was bad at anything. Dick game had to the best in you’ll ever have in your life.

You’re drooling on to the wooden table, “Ume! Ume! Fuck…I’m gonna cum!” He lowly chuckles from behind. “Yeah? You gonna cum?”

The lights were still on, if anyone walked past they could see him blowing your back out through the big windows. You wanted someone to see, for them to tell everyone you had him inside you. The thought make you clench down on his throbbing member.

His large hands groping your behind, pulling you back into him. Every harsh thrust had you inching on top of the table. “I— wanna see you when…I cum…” You plead.

Shit you were so cute, how could he say no to such a pretty thing. Umemiya easily flips you so your facing him, sitting on the edge of table. He’s finally able to see your adorable expressions. It has him harshly gulping when you look up at him all cockdrunk, gaze hazy, and your mouth agape. The sounds of skip slapping, your moans, and his grunts echoed throughout the empty building. The coil in your stomach makes you dig crescents into his arms. “Ume!”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, arching your back as you silently scream. A euphoric feeling fills your body. Gushing all over his length, soaking his pubes, and the tiles. His eyes crinkle when he sees how much of a mess you made. “Fuck that’s so hot—Squirting all over the place. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Heh, gotta mop the floor now.” He grunts out, struggling to plunge his dick into you at how hard you’re clenching. He captures your lips in a kiss, although it was more like a meeting of teeth. You’re looking at him through half-lidded eyes, “Ume—cum with me.”

“Shit, I’m close—“ He leans back to pull out and fist his cock over you. But you wrap your legs around his waist, “Cum in me!” You beg. “Fuck— I can’t. We can’t. Stop— if you don’t let me pull out—“ He’s clenching his jaw so hard to not spill into you. “No! Hngh—Wan’ it inside! Ume!” You’re imploring him, clenching down to try to milk him. “Your killing me here— if you don’t let me pull out..I’m gonna fucking cum.”

You want it so bad. You want his sperm in your womb. You want him to knock you up. Your walls are fluttering around him.

“Shit—fuck. No— ah— fuck I’m cumming—!” Unable to hold himself back, he’s creaming into you, painting your walls white with his cum. His head is thrown back as he bites back a whimper. Tightening your legs even further, you’re milking him dry.

The both of you panting, trying to catch your breathes after the vigorous activity.

。・゜・゜・。

“Papa! How did you meet mama!” Your five year old questions with a mouthful of carrots. “Chew your food before talking.” You’re scolding her, wiping her mouth. “Hmm? She appeared in-front of me like a fairy!” Umemiya laughs. “Really? Really?! Mama is a fairy?”

“Don’t say such nonsense.” You smile and pinch his hand. “Am I a fairy too?” Your daughter claps her hands together. “The cutest fairy.” He reaches over to ruffle her hair. “What about my brother? What is he?” Umemiya’s eyes soften at his bubbly she is. “A fairy knight.” He grins making her giggle. The scene has your heart fluttering. Umemiya places a hand over your large stomach, “Isn’t he, honey?” Your daughter’s eyes sparkle as she looks at you. “Yes, he is. You’re all my fairies.”

Update: Thanks for all your responses. Yes, I went for it. We have a daughter and a son on the way. Happy mom and wife now, peace!

#tw: pregnancy #tw: baby trapping #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker smut #umemiya smut #umemiya hajime x reader #hajime umemiya #mino.writes

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mamayan · 10 months

Note

Hii can I request Gyomei x prostitute fem reader nsfw.....plsss

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

cw: NSFW • Darker Themes • Attempted murder (of reader) • Fem! Reader • prostitute reader • Fluff/Comfort • Size kink • Breeding kink • Sub/switch! Reader • Edging/Denial • Overstimulation • Oral (F)

“Namu Amida Butsu. Pitiful creature.” He doesn’t need vision to understand what was going on in the lively square of the red district tonight.

Normally a bubble of carnal desires and pleasure, many forgot the festering underbelly of this part of the city. He’s on a mission, needs to focus and do his job, but something keeps stopping him.

Possibly the kakushi by his side crying softly, pitying the poor soul on a trial meant to convict whether the offending party is guilty or not. How can an upright samurai be in the wrong in any way? It must be the fault of the lowly whore which should have known her place. Such disgusting beliefs made his gut churn, but he’s aware there is little one can do in this situation.

He needs to leave, walk away, and kill the demon living just on the outskirts of this district.

So why won’t his feet move?

“This bitch is getting what she deserves, and let her serve as a warning to all the workers in the district!”

“Oh no, is he going to decapitate her?!” The kakushi beside him gasps in horror, drawing his focus away from his chants to regain his will power and instead breaking his concentration as he focuses on the slurred drunk words of a man. The crowd is thickening, attention drawn to the spectacle but most of all, the promise of blood shed. “Gyomei-sama…” it would appear the kakushi wishes him to intervene.

He can’t. He’s not supposed to anyway. He knows nothing of the woman’s crimes nor any clear indication on how to pass judgement.

“For trying to run from the great Habuyoshi who mearly admired the beauty! For daring to raise these weak fists at the great Habuyoshi! For biting the dick of the great Habuyoshi! I am putting this filthy dog down!” The crowd was cheering, jeering him on, even begging he kill her after violating her for the crowd to watch, or wanting to do it themselves. Gyomei had heard the red light district was filled with glistening gold and red, and it enrages his heart to think such an auspicious color is tied to such a festering diseased place. No one won here. Ever.

Before the kakushi could move, he’d already made his presence known, easily knocking the samurai unconscious.

The crowd stared in awe and fear of the enormous man wielding only prayer beads, defeating the well known samurai of the area so easily with only a single blow.

“Who owns this prostitute?”

None speak up for a moment, tension thick in the air as a savior appears for a once thought dead woman.

“M-me…” an elderly woman far past her prime shakily steps out, her guilty and shifty expression not seen by the man looking at nothing, but her nervous energy radiated off in waves for all to feel.

“I’ll buy her.”

“Gyomei-sama?!”

“Huh—?”

You awoke with minimal pain.

The jarring events of the night prior swirling in your mind and dumbfounding you because what was that?

You nearly died because a strange man grabbed you off the street while you were running an errand and tried to rape you in an alley way. Of course you fought back, but it seems that’s a crime if the perpetrator is stronger than you.

Tears fell despite your anger. You were no longer a prostitute, your freedom seemingly bought out of kindness but you knew not to trust anything given freely. There’s always a price, and your life thus far had taught you to be witty and at least somewhat charming. Though it hardly did much for you last night when the crowd roared for your execution like your life meant so little.

Your new owner is more terrifying than your previous house mother. At least she’d been open about her greedy vile mindset, but this man is nothing short of an enigma. Why did he save you? What is the purpose? What should you do now? It left you riddled with anxiety as you sat in a bed more comfortable than you could ever remember sleeping in, the blankets and pillows too of better quality than the red light district ever provided even for the top courtesans. You’d been given plain but high quality clothing as well, allowed to bathe alone, and then fed a vegetarian meal so delicious you wondered if the Buddhist monks had it much better than you gave them credit for.

Now you slept, in a room all to yourself, with no idea of what was to come next.

Did he want you as a wife? That didn’t seem right though. He didn’t appear the romantic type, and his size alone mildly frightened you despite his soft demeanor and speech. Were you to act as a servant? Did he wish to sell you to another area and call it good karma, leaving the matter as that? It ate away until you could no longer stand it, rising from the bed you longed to stay in forever, and slipping out of your room to explore the estate.

It’s shockingly empty.

Not a soul in sight as you explored, stealing bread from the kitchen as you walked, pondering the possibility of ghost servants. You felt silly and dismissed it, but the eerie silence was begining to get to you. You turned and headed for an opening, finally finding a serene courtyard. You were awestruck by the landscape, attention quickly caught as you spot a small pond with a bridge.

Hope bloomed and then flourished as you spotted several fat pretty koi swimming about, different colored patterns moving around and hypnotizing you.

“Ssshhwink!” You jolted in shock at the loud sound of a blade being struck, eyes honing in on the source as you see a training ground of sort in the distance.

Shock was the least of your current emotions as you watched the enormous man, your supposed savior for now, swing around an axe and spiked flail attached to a very long chain. Surrounding him were multiple dummies, made from steel, as if you weren’t already shocked silly. For someone so large, he was graceful and fast, skilled in each tiny movement and it nearly made you think of a dance you’d seen long ago at a festival when you were a child.

He’s no one ordinary. That’s clear enough, and he’s not a samurai it seemed either.

He could kill you quicker than that man before and he could’ve killed that man too but chose not to. Your heart trembled, because you knew those that hesitated left empty handed, and if his goal was merely to rescue and abandon you then you’d find yourself back to being sold off or worse.

You needed him to keep you, no matter how his appearance made your knees weak.

“Are you hungry?”

One week. You’d been in his estate one week and this was the first conversation you’d had with him since that night he saved you.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Thank you.” He accepts the lunch you prepared, as you learned fast that once he’d brought you into his estate, he’d been abandoned by his cooks. His servants who cleaned or kept things in order were incredibly well trained and avoided you similarly. You’d been cooking his meals and leaving them outside his room in the morning, and he’d usually be gone for most of the day until very late evening where you’d leave his dinner outside his small study or prayer room.

This was your first chance to initiate contact with him, and it made you swallow your nerves as you came up eye level with his abdomen. He accepts the tray, sitting at the small table in the open courtyard. He repeats his chants while you observe him up close for a moment.

He is handsome in a rugged way. His scars surprisingly only adding character. His thin lips and long lashes would’ve made many woman jealous as well.

“This is very delicious. You’re a good cook.” You startle lightly from your day dream as you stare at him with wide eyes, his face still tilted down as he eats.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hadn’t expected to find your company so pleasant.

Your presence was easy, comfortable and enjoyable after you warmed up more, chattering away similarly to the love Hashira at times. It made a strange sort of fondness form in his chest as he listens to your opinion on cherry blossom season, and why mochi is best served cold.

He finds himself rushing now after missions to return to his estate, something he’d never have done in the past. If only to hear your greeting of “welcome home” which makes the estate he’d been given actually feel like one.

You held his hand a few days ago, pulling him quickly and quietly to feel the soft fur of a sleeping cat you’d taken to adopting. He remembers the feel of your skin, the fragility of your hand within his, and how tiny you are. It shouldn’t affect him like this. Yet even as he sits below the icy fall of water in a lotus pose, his aching erection won’t ebb.

He’s ashamed the first time he wraps one big calloused palm around his leaking shaft and fucks his fist to the thought of you.

He’s even more ashamed when those thoughts haunt him in your presence.

He’s alarmed however when he wakes tonight to the sound of his shoji sliding open. Not by the intruder, your footsteps much louder ironically when you attempt to be quiet, but by the timing.

He released his cock and laid still, strangely nervous to appear asleep should you check.

Why were you in his room?

He chants in his mind when he hears fabric rustling, then a plop on the floor as something slides and falls. Were you… undressing?

His room felt hotter, or it may have possibly been him, as the sound of you nearing alerts him to a reason you’re here tonight.

“I know you are awake.” You sound bemused.

“I know you should be in bed.” He replies more shakily than he’d hoped to sound.

“I am trying, but you won’t seem to move over for me.” His breath hitches, and before he can think he’s scooting aside and feeling anxious for the first time in a long time. He’s too old now to be fearful of such a tiny woman, your charms and allure certainly difficult to dismiss but you shouldn’t make his hands sweat like this.

“Fuck,” he doesn’t mean to curse, but when you press your nude figure tight against his side, he nearly embarrasses himself by finishing what he’d started before you’d interrupted. Not that he nor his cock minded your company, in fact it twitched as if excited about your presence.

“It feels better if you face me.”

“What are you doing?” He feels flustered, hands desperate to grab you but unsure exactly if he should.

“Seducing you…?” He hears now the unsure tone you speak with, the way your fingers curl into his yukata to prevent him from pushing you away. He shifts and turns, the futon thankfully custom for his size and fitting you fully as he finally touches you. Your face first at least.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I pretty?” He chuckles, smile making you press your thighs together due to the sheer masculine charm he oozed.

“You are soft.” He drops his voice as he presses a hand to the middle of your back and pulls you closer. His body radiates heat like none other you’ve ever felt, all pillowy muscles and smelling of sandalwood and sage, and something else beneath it that made your teeth ache. “You are considerate and empathetic.” His hands smooth over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. “You are cute and witty, I find I laugh most in your presence.” His thumbs lightly graze over your eyes. “You are intelligent. I feel I can confide in you and be understood.” Down your jaw and chest, over your shoulders and down your arms to your hands shaking lightly. “You are also mischievous, I never know what you’ll come up with…” his hands come back up, one loosely and easily encircling your entire throat. “Like sneaking into a man’s room in the middle of the night and climbing into his bed naked.” He means to sound chastising but his lust is difficult to mask. Your giggle lets him know you take it lightly.

“Not some man’s room… your room, Gyomei.”

It’s like you want to set him off.

“Should I go?” He can’t deny the way it ignites him to have you here.

“No.” He groans lightly, hands finally taking the dip you’d both been aching for and feeling your chest. “You don’t get to leave now. At least not until you explain what is it is you search for.”

“Relief?” He frowns, but becomes quickly distracted by the malleable flesh in his hands, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples and drawing little sighs from you.

“A-and… I guess confirmation.” He pinches on little bud, rewarded with a tiny moan and the arching of your back.

“Confirmation for what?” He murmurs, debating if you being atop him would be easier.

“That you like me.” He halts, startled by the confession.

“You thought I didn’t like you?” He clarifies, finally deciding and easily lifting you up by the hips to sit on his stomach, thighs on either side of him.

“I didn’t know if it was the sort between lovers or not…” he nods, finally understanding.

“I want you deeply, sweet girl.” He doesn’t miss the shiver which shakes you when he calls you that, smile tilting higher into a crooked smirk as he lifts his hands and runs them over your ass, gently squeezing each cheek and then moving to touch your thighs.

You don’t speak as he feels you up, quiet aside from small pleasurable mewls when he plays with your breasts or spreads your ass and let’s cool air hit your cunt.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“Y-yes…?”

“To the thought of me?” You feel your body heat.

“Yes. Always to the thought of you.” Your answer makes him groan, hips rutting up into nothing as he squeezes your hips.

“What do I do to you then, in your fantasies.” He’s desperate to know, desperate to recreate it. Your nails dig into the muscle on his chest, dwarfed on top of him like this.

“Oh, well, I… sit on your face.” He quirks a brow at the odd fantasy, unfamiliar with such an act.

“And do what?”

“Let you lick me, down here.” He allows you to guide his hand to the warmest place on your body, his mind blanking as he realizes.

“Oh.”

“We don’t have to do that though, let’s do what you want—oh!” He’s hauling you up like a doll onto his face, thighs spread on either side and your pussy spread and easily accessible now for his mouth. Gyomei doesn’t hesitate now, tongue slipping out as dragging through your folds as if he’s done this before. He hasn’t but he makes up for it with his wide and powerful tongue and eagerness to learn.

“Gyomei! I—ngh~!” Your moan when he licks at your pussy is more than he ever imagined. The wanton swivel of your hips as you grind down only make him more feral, large hands firmly on your ass and keeping you pressed down. Oxygen the least of his concerns as he licks and sucks until your writhing and digging your nails into his hair while you cry out for him.

He likes this act much more than his own daydreams of being intimate with you, the heady taste of your slick and sounds of your pleasure like a drug.

“I’m going to cum—!” You’re so close it’s a wonder you don’t tip over even as he lifts you completely off his face.

“H-huh?” You sound dazed and confused, so cute it makes him want to settle you down on his face again but he stops himself.

You’re on your back, looking up at his figure not blanketing you, one arm keeping him up as he lifts your chin and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips.

“You can’t cum yet.” You feel irritable having your orgasm denied, pouty expression unseen but tone converting your emotions.

“Why?” Gyomei smiles, kissing you again and forcing your mouth open to play with your tongue, sliding his thigh between your own so you can grind on him for relief.

He breaks away with a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, warm breath fanning over you. “It will hurt taking me, but it will hurt less if you cum while I’m inserting it.”

Oh. It made sense actually.

Except he doesn’t move ahead to fucking you like you wanted, asking you for more fantasies you‘ve had of him.

“Using your fingers…” and he opened you up more than any man has ever with his fingers alone. Two alone stuffing your poor cunt seemingly to max and once more bringing you to the edge until you felt like crying when he pulled away.

“Shh,” he cooes, mildly upset he’s causing you distress and equally amused by how cute he finds your grumbling as he rearranges you again. This time he just rolls your clit gently with his thumb and kisses you, lavishing your neck in love bites you’ll surely need help covering in the morning and then giving attention to your breasts.

“Gyomei please!” Your third denial felt nearly painful, your core cramping with the desperate need for release as you wiggle and struggle beneath him.

“You’ll be very sorry if I take you now, be good for me, little lotus.” He kisses away your tears of frustration, once more spearing you open with two fingers until you’re moaning and rolling your hips into him, then he adds a third.

He stills when you hiss in pain, concern painting his features as he moves to pull them out only for your hand to stop him.

“It’s okay! I’m alright, it just stings a little.”

“We can stop here, I’ll make you cum and we can go back to sleep—,”

“No! I want you, please.”

He feels hesitant until you begin to relax, body finally accepting three fat fingers stretching your little hole out as slick drips down his palm and soaks into bed below.

“G-Gyomei please let me cum, I can take you even if I do, I just need—!” You’re so close again, but he’s stringent as he pulls free from your soft tight walls with a pop. Your whine of frustration goes ignored as he finally reaches his own limit.

“I’m going to sit you in my lap.” You’re pliant in his hold as he sits up and drags you with him, placing your back to his front as he unties his yukata and allows himself to be free. He gives himself a few pumps, balls swinging heavy as he sits down with you.

You regret looking down in curiosity. Having known some men, despite being quite big physically, can have small penises.

Gyomei isn’t one of them apparently, his caution not without cause as you see the enormous cock he carries, the thick veiny shaft frightening and leaking pre-cum like a stream. Even his balls were ridiculously large, and you briefly pondered taking his offer of going to sleep.

You shook it off as you felt a gentle kiss to your temple, body relaxing as he began another round of torture to your clit with more gentle rolls with his fingers.

“Relax for me, you’re being so good, all mine,” he’s mumbling, body tense as he holds himself back and prepares mentally to keep calm as he lifts you up and lets the plush tip kiss your entrance. Then you’re feeling pleasure and pressure like nothing you‘ve ever felt before, mind going blank as you cum while he stuffs you to full capacity, Gyomei similarly struggling as he moans feeling your gooey walls contract and try to push him out even as gravity drags you down on his cock.

“Gyo—hah—!” You can hardly breathe, body struggling to connect the pain while you’re writhing pleasure as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up and down, still touching your swollen nub, bullying his cock into you one inch at a time. Your squeals of shock and euphoria nearly make him lose it, and when his tip finally smushes up against your cervix, he cums hard.

“I-I can feel it filling me—,” your eyes roll back as hot spurts of cum pump into your womb, Gyomei’s arm like an anchor as he groans and rocks you gentle against him.

“Feels so good…” he’d never known sex could feel like this, that you felt like this, but he’s unable to pull out despite his cock becoming sensitive. Instead he keeps you in place, plugging your little hole with his cock and keeping every drop of cum inside you where it belongs.

That thought startles him. Did he want to make you pregnant? Did he want a family?

More than anything—

Gyomei groans, hushing you as you whine and wiggle in his lap, feeling his cock swelling thick and hard again inside you. “Gyomei—s’too much,” you feel like you’ll burst, body already exhausted but he’s hardly done it seems as he begins to bounce you again, feeling more akin to a toy as his shaft splits your pussy open. The slick squelching noises blend with your moans and his grunts, his cock burying itself as deeply as possible each thrust as he murmurs praise down into your ear.

“So good for me. Taking all of me so well,”

“Do you like feeling my cum inside you? Do you want more?”

“I’m going to fill you up again, make you nice and full.”

“Going to put a baby inside you, let everyone know you’re mine now.”

You’re gone, too cock drunk to do much else but cum around him and moan, drool spilling down your chin in a thin line as he takes away all coherent thoughts.

You awake the next morning sore and groggy, face confused as you look at a room not your own.

You glance down at the arm keeping you trapped, merely draped over you but so weighted you’d need to wake him to move.

He got you filthy last night, cum coating all of you inside and out before he’d washed you and put you to bed. The memory brings heat to your face as you burry yourself into the bed and smile.

He’s yours now too.

Your story to be told as one from rags to riches.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

#Yan answers #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #gyomei himejima #kny smut #gyomei himejima smut #Gyomei x reader #Gyomei x reader smut #Gyomei x fem! reader #demon slayer smut

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incognit0slut · 1 year

Text

Right Kind of Wrong (2)

She never thought she’d be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Spencer’s late-night endeavor is teased as a new case arises. wc: 2.8k

Warnings: 18+ content, graphic detail of murder

A/n: thank you for all the love it’s very much appreciated! also i want to remind you that this will be a long series, but if you like a murder mystery with a hint of humor and smut, then by all means please continue :3

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

BEING CALLED IN AT NIGHT WAS SOMETHING SPENCER WAS USED TO. It was part of his job. The moment he accepted to be part of the Behavior Analysis Unit at Quantico, he knew the downside of it all. The long hours and pressure to perform the job while working with some of the most dangerous and violent individuals could potentially affect him physically and mentally.

But above all that, he always looked at the bigger picture. His job was to bring justice by catching all the perpetrators of each crime he was assigned with. It was a very dangerous job yet he couldn't imagine his life without lending in his time and intelligence to catch the 'bad guys on the loose'—as Garcia would often put it. So having his dearest friend call him at two o'clock in the morning was something that occasionally occurred. He really didn't mind it.

Until tonight.

For the first time in his eleven years working as an FBI agent, Spencer wished the bad news could wait at least in the morning. By then he would have more time to spend his night with the most irresistible woman he had ever laid his eyes on.

He shook his head. Guilt was a complex, powerful emotion and it was what he was feeling right now. A dead body was found and all he could think about was the beautiful stranger who was now more than an enigma than she ever was. Even when he had seen her in her barest form, tucked underneath his warm body. Even when his hands had roamed around every corner of her luscious curves, her desperate moan sounded like the most beautiful melody to his ears.

God, he needed a drink. No, not alcohol, he wasn't one to drink liquor anyway. Well, excluding a few hours ago when sitting all alone waiting for his friends without holding any type of alcoholic drink seemed rather uncommon. He was already feeling out of place the moment he entered the dimly lit bar, his eyes scanning for any familiar faces but being greeted by none.

So ordering a bottle of cold beer seemed ideal as he sat by the bar on his own. He didn't even drink the whole liquid, merely gulping a sip or two before it became a mere prop for blending in with the crowd.

If it wasn’t for Garcia coaxing him into joining her and the girls for a night out in the city, Spencer would still be at the office, his nose buried in the paperwork he needed to finish. But Penelope Garcia was a force not to be underrated. She had a way with words and persuasion, thus Spencer found himself agreeing to spend the night with his peers.

Besides, he enjoyed being around them. He considered the people he worked with as more than mere colleagues. He had spent so much time with them that the bond developed was incredibly special and strong. He considered them as a sort of dysfunctional family in some ways, but it was a family nonetheless. It was a very unique relationship and a special one that he took pride in working with and he was very grateful to be a part of it.

But it didn't stop him from being mad at the fact they had bailed on him at the very last minute.

Fine—a little bit mad. They all seemed to have good excuses for their sudden absence. JJ had to drive back home for her sick son, Prentiss was called back into the office by their unit chief Hotch, and Garcia... well, her answer was pretty vague. All she had said over her frantic call was, "I'm so sorry, boy genius, I need to take a rain check tonight. I'll call you later!"

Then Spencer found himself in a situation he would never imagine being, sitting by himself at the most sociable place he could ever think of.

He needed to leave. The music bouncing over the stereo suddenly sounded too loud, and even though there weren't too many people inside the place, it was still enough to make his demeanor shut down from the several conversations floating in the air.

And don't get him started on the number of pathogens clinging to every nook and corner of this place. He shuddered at that thought as he once again wiped down the bar surface with another pile of napkins he requested from the bartender, who by the looks of it, was starting to eye him with annoyance.

A man suddenly pushed him from behind and went on his way without apologizing. Spencer made a mental note to never agree to another social request without a companion at his arrival. He was feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute.

His fingers hastily tightened around the strap of his bag, ready to flee the scene when a sudden faint scent of chocolate fluttered through his nose.

Delicious, mouth-watering chocolate.

Spencer had always been conscious of his surroundings. The nerves in his brain would work their way into absorbing all kinds of entities that triggered his senses, and chocolate was a scent he could easily make out.

Chocolate smelled like... well, heaven. It had a sweet, decadent scent that was just divine, triggering all sorts of happy, positive emotions and reactions. He could point out a lot of facts about why roasted cocoa could trigger serotonin throughout one's body, but his brain was too busy trying to pinpoint the source of its scent.

Then he felt movement to his right and the scent lingered around the air like a delicious blanket coating his senses. And there she was—looking divinely gorgeous like heaven on a pair of legs.

Spencer knew there was no singular answer to describe one's beauty, as beauty was subjective and could be defined differently by each person. He also considered himself being very old-school as he perceived beauty through kindness and intelligence. Yet he was still a hot-blooded man and he wasn't going to lie; the woman sitting in front of him was physically attractive and pleasing to the eye.

The way her eyes lit up as they settled on him tightened the knot in his stomach. He might not have much experience with the opposite sex, but he knew when one was interested in his presence, and with that thought in mind he felt rather pleased and flattered.

His eyes roamed around her features; her glazed eyes, her high cheekbones, the delicate shape of her nose, and her plump lips that seemed to look so soft. It wasn't until later in the night he came to the conclusion that they were much softer than they looked. Because tasting her mouth was completely different than simply staring at it.

Spencer didn't know how touch-starved he was until he pressed his lips onto hers, lips that were incredibly soft yet turned every inch of his body very hard. He felt immensely dizzy with need as he nipped her bottom lip, feeling intoxicated each time she squirmed in his arms, her soft body pressing against him, making it more and more difficult to clear his mind with her hands between his legs—

"Late night?"

Spencer looked up. He could feel the blush creeping along his cheeks as if being caught having these inappropriate thoughts. Derek Morgan stood by his side, eying the amount of sugar stashed into the cup of coffee in his hand. To be fair, he really did need something that could wake him up and break him from going down memory lane again.

"Very," he murmured. He proceeded by mixing his caffeine with a spoon, unaware of how Morgan was watching him with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"My man," Morgan teased. Spencer sensed the taunting edge in his voice and turned around.

On a normal occasion, he would deny the suggestive tone Morgan would often taunt. His friend had a way of teasing him in what seemed to be simply goodhearted banter. But Spencer wasn't exactly a good liar. He was already quite flustered by the topic of conversation and the moment he opened his mouth, he knew he would only make things worse.

So instead he kept his silence and sipped on his drink, ignoring the grin plastered on Morgan's face as if an epiphany had aroused him in his wake.

"My man," Morgan repeated, wrapping a playful arm around his shoulders. "What has kept the young Dr. Reid awake on this lovely night?"

He shoved his arm away. "I wouldn't consider myself youthful anymore."

Morgan snickered. "You're the baby of the team." Then to annoy him even further, he added, “Kid.”

"I'm thirty-six." Spencer frowned as they climbed their way toward the conference room. "You know, men in their mid-thirties have prefrontal cortexes that are fully developed and they have a lot more experience throughout their lives. Their body is also fully functional so they—I am most definitely a mature, fully grown adult."

"Do you know what else they say about men being in their thirties?" Morgan threw him another one of his grins. "A very high sex drive."

"Actually, studies show that 30% of healthy people aged between 65-74 still enjoy sexual intercourse weekly."

Morgan groaned. "Don't give me that mental image."

"Reid!"

The two men turned to see Garcia scurrying towards them. How she still conjured so much energy at this time of hour would always be a mystery to him. The determined look on her face reminded him of their last conversation on the phone and Spencer quickly turned away, walking into the empty conference room before sitting himself by the round table.

Noticing the weird interaction between his two friends, Morgan threw Garcia a questioning look. "What's going on?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what's going on." She hurriedly entered the room and grabbed the remote control sitting in the middle of the table. She poked Spencer with the device. "This boy right here decided he's too cool to hang out with us."

"Garcia, you're the one who bailed on me."

"So not the point," she deadpanned. "My question is, when are you going to introduce us to your girlfriend? I didn't even know you were dating."

Morgan's brows shot up as he took a seat beside him. "Girlfriend?"

Spencer looked down as she went on, "Imagine my surprise when he answered my call and there was a woman's voice in the background. At this hour."

Morgan laughed at her emphasis on the time because it was common knowledge only certain things happen this late. Especially with an alleged female company. "Really?"

Disliking the way he was thrown into the spotlight, Spencer leaned in his chair and crossed his arms defensively. "She's not my girlfriend."

That statement only raised their interest even further.

"Oh?" That was Morgan.

"You naughty minx." That was Garcia. "Since when have you been seeing her?"

Spencer had two options. He could ignore their curiosity and remain silent, or he could flat-out give them a lie. He looked between the interest on their face and decided he couldn't escape their probing curiosity, so he answered in a very low voice, "Tonight."

"Tonight?" Garcia asked in disbelief. "Wait—didn't you go to the bar earlier?"

"Yes, before everyone ditched me."

"Oh my god," Garcia squealed in surprise. "Dr. Reid, did you spend the night with a stranger?"

There was a long pause as the grip around his mug tightened. Morgan let out a choked laugh. "My man."

"Stop saying that," Spencer muttered, his lips inches away from his steaming cup.

"I can't believe this," Garcia gasped between her giggles, clearly fascinated by this new information. "Our resident boy genius is actually a Casanova in disguise."

"Who's a Casanova?"

The three of them turned to see Emily Prentiss walking into the room followed by a very curious David Rossi. His other colleagues clearly didn't hear the beginning half of their conversation and Spencer wanted to make sure it remained that way.

He casually took a sip of his drink and replied, "Giacomo Casanova. A famous Italian adventurer and author in the 18th century. He became famous for his often complicated and elaborate affairs with women."

Prentiss scoffed as she and Rossi sat down by the table. "I know who Casanova is, I'm asking who is a Casanova."

An awkward silence settled in the room. Spencer shifted in his seat. He really, really didn't want to deal with this. Spending a very intimate night with a stranger wasn't something he would like to discuss in front of his peers. Ever.

He could feel the heavy weight of everyone's eyes and the blush slowly creeping along his cheeks when Derek stepped in, giving the room one of his charming smiles. "We were talking about me."

"You?" Prentiss quirked one of her eyebrows in mocked surprise. "I don't think your girlfriend would be happy with that."

Morgan easily laughed. "We were discussing my old Casanova days."

"Yeah," Garcia interjected. "We were talking about how bad his choices of female friends were."

"Hey!"

"Until now." She gave him a toothy grin. "We love Savannah."

Morgan rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He caught Spencer staring at him with a grateful smile and returned the gesture with an understanding nod. Spencer relaxed as the conversation rolled by and the topic of his secret escapade was long forgotten.

For now.

JJ, another member of the team, entered the room a few minutes later with a huge smile. Then the moment their unit chief, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, followed behind, everyone knew it was back to business.

Spencer placed his mug down on the table and focused his attention on the case at hand.

"Alright, so." Garcia pointed the remote towards the black screen and a moment later, gruesome pictures of a murder scene were presented in different angles. The picture of the male body covered in blood greeted them before a passport shot of a middle-aged man smiling happily at the camera was shown. "Fifty-six-year-old Kevin Marshall, a corporate lawyer, was found dead at his home by his secretary."

"At home?" Derek wondered. "Were there no security?"

"There was a sudden blackout going on in the neighborhood for about seven minutes. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at that time of hour. His wife and kids were visiting her parents and Mr. Marshall was at home finishing some work. It wasn't later on when he didn't answer his calls that his secretary found him lying in his office with several stab wounds."

"Time of death?" JJ questioned.

"A quarter past midnight." Garcia clicked on her device before another detailed picture of the scene was zoomed in on the screen. "And this was found—no, carved on his back."

The picture had a clear shot of the wound on the victim's back, a sloppy carved-out handwriting slashed across his skin. Spencer narrowed his eyes. "Exodus 20:13," he read, his brain already discerning the meaning of the words. "Thou shalt not kill."

"Quite ironic, don't you think? Given the way the Unsub just brutally acted out his assault," Prentiss wondered out loud.

"The verse might actually tie with the murder into this god-given right for someone to bear arms. The Unsub probably feels justified in murdering the victim because he feels that this man is a sinner, thus he must kill him in the name of the Almighty."

"So, what? Are we looking for a religious vigilante?"

"That's what we're trying to find out." Hotch looked over his team and assigned everyone their work. "Since the crime scene is a mere hour away, Morgan can investigate the crime scene with JJ. Reid, go with Rossi to check the autopsy report. Prentiss and I will be here for his family as they're flying straight from Michigan."

"What can I do to help, sir?"

Hotch gave Garcia a pointed look. "Find everything you can on Kevin Marshall. Bank accounts, purchase records, extended family, and also the people he worked with. Report to me when you find something suspicious. Anything."

"Right." She nodded. "Anything."

"And find any possible matches from old cases that have anything to do with carving on body parts. Solved or unsolved."

"Carving on body parts. Got it."

Everyone started scattering around the room, ready to start the investigation. And although his mind somehow drifted back to soft lips and the scent of sweet chocolate, Spencer pushed them away, gulping the last drip of the sweetest coffee he had ever made as if he was draining down all these inappropriate images running through his mind.

It was not the time.

>> NEXT PART

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kadextra · 7 months

Text

Alright explaining the new individual lore guideline and also giving my take on it

Creators will be in charge of making their individual character lore & admins won’t be able to interrupt/participate unless asked to

So, this is literally exactly what we’re having and have had with multiple character stories on the server already.

Bad’s lore, with Dapper and Pomme participating from the start. The ghostie cam streams where he invited all the egg admins to come and build their characters. His glowing eyes custom model

Philza’s hardcore lore with Chayanne & Tallulah participating. Admins building places like Rose’s sanctuary, affecting the environment & making a custom crow wings item & Enderking corrupted model

Fit’s lore with admins playing Madagio’s spycats, Cucurucho, and building unique locations he visits

Quackity’s lore with various characters played by admins

Cellbit’s murdering the federation workers arc with admins making the enigmas & acting as fed workers, custom knife item

Roier’s ratoier and Doied lore

Antoine’s whole *gestures* thing going on with Cucurucho

Aypierre’s Ayrobot lore with the Federation

Maximus’ code infection & nuke lore with custom models and items

The great Tazercraft prison escape from back then

Luzu’s radioactive lore and his other character Arin

Probably more I’m not thinking of

It’s not a new thing with players driving their own lore and in all honestly these stories are some of the best we’ve ever had on the server. and ofc CCs are able involve whatever & whoever they want into it (like Fit involving Pac, Cellbit involving Bagi) without any worry, and improv roleplay as usual

We’ve had situations in the past where stories like this were intervened in by administrators / sudden events, without communication, and we lost what could’ve been- like Cellbit’s murder arc. We’ve had creators get put in lore jail unable to log into the server. These new changes Quackity is making are gonna prevent that kind of thing from happening now

Lores “affected” by this change are ones that were made only by the admins. These are ones like:

The Resistance

Foolish federation worker arc

Baghera’s experiment backstory with the federation

Etoiles code warrior lore

Bagi’s backstory

Some of Tina’s demon lore

But I don’t think this is anything to worry about. Even if these plotlines were started by the admins, it’s still become the characters’ own lore. Now that these CCs are in control they can choose to keep it if they want! They can decide to continue having the admins’ support with it like before, push it forward themselves, or do a different idea. it’s up to them now

And honestly let’s be real, things like the Resistance weren’t going anywhere anyways. If say- Bagi liked this plotline enough, talks with Etoiles/Fit/Pac + the admin team and wants it to continue for her character then she can do that now, and we won’t have to sit in limbo wondering what’s going on with that whole thing for months as we’ve been doing

All in all I think it’s really good :D

#qsmp #qadmin situation #discourse #also this likely won’t affect the invidual lore of admin characters either #they can approach the creators with it and if the creators want to help build it then boom play ball #take dapper’s lore with the soul vultures #bad was introduced to the idea he really liked it and then helped to build it #even working it into a MAJOR part of his own lore #<- literally the reason he died

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strwberri-milk · 3 months

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Heyyy💟

Since your ask is open I was wondering if you can write a fic with the same concept as your "Finding Mc and leaving you" but for Zayne or Xavier? I'm a sucker for angst 😭

unfortunately xavier like. of the three i see him just not being able to date ANYBODY else but mc. tbvh i dont see ANY of them getting into realtionships but rafayel i think of it as like. release for him and just stright copium while dating someone and using them as a substitution for mc, zayne dates someone bc he thinks its 1) what hes supposed to do and 2) hes too dangerous to be around you and 3) doesnt think you return his feelings anyway whereas xavier is just a cryptid and idt you can make slenderman date anybody if he didnt want to so his is. a little diff than the other two

You met Zayne during med school. He was so singularly focused on his career that you don't even know how everything happened. You were somehow lucky enough to find him when he was free, confessing that somehow, over the sessions he was tutoring you for as review for his own lessons, you fell in love with him. You had a good feeling that he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings but you just wanted to confess to him to say you did your best.

Surprisingly, he accepts and manages to carve out some time for you to go on a date. The entire ordeal almost seems transactional at first and you're worried he said yes only to let you down easily during the date. Somehow, one date turns to another date, then a third, then suddenly you find yourself in a committed relationship with Dr. Zayne, the youngest Cardiac Surgeon in Linkon City.

He chose not to speak too often about his childhood, telling you that he grew up in the same way everyone did. Sometimes, he'd mention a childhood friend that he had and that she often came to visit him as he was her primary physician for her heart condition. You never worried about her and had often run into her while meeting up with him after work. She had always been nothing but kind to you so you never would suspect anything.

Zayne was always kind of reserved around you but you never had to doubt that he cared for you. It's not until you're talking to your friends who are starting to get married or discussing their own relationships that somehow, the two of you just fell into a routine. Zayne was never affectionate with you but he always returned your affection. He remembers your birthday and anniversaries and always gets you the sweetest gifts. You know he's looking out for you but you get the sense that things aren't...this isn't what you want in a romantic relationship.

You ask him if he sees the relationship going anywhere, if there's any shared goals that the two of you want to work towards together or if you even make him happy. He's glad you're being honest with him but he asks you what brought it about and you have to confess that your friends seemed so much happier in their relationships whereas it felt like the two of you had grown stagnant. Hell the two of you don't even live together, moving in being something you had waited to bring up to him.

After a lengthy discussion and few days for the two of you to sit with the decision you end up having to break up. You aren't getting what you want out of a relationship with him and somehow, you know that you aren't making him as happy as he deserves.

You're glad you don't work at the same hospital at him but a year later you're invited to an event at his hospital. You're over him, for the most part, at this point but your heart still aches a little at the sight of him. On his arm is that friend of his, holding him tightly as she kisses his cheek in congratulations of whatever it was you were invited for. You know now as you watch them he never loved you as much as he loved her and for your peace of mind you decide to leave it at at that.

Xavier was an enigma. The two of you had been dating just a few months when suddenly everything changed. You were planning a date with him when he apologised for cancelling, saying that a new hunter at work needed his help and he was going to stay late to help her out.

You couldn't do anything really except realise that Xavier was cancelling more and more on you. You knew he felt bad because he'd call you or text you an apology but it seemed more like he was doing it out of obligation. You don't think he's cheating on you with her because even if you randomly called or texted him he'd always pick up and was open about where he was - he just wasn't there, with you like you wanted him to be.

He breaks up with you fairly quickly after that and it doesn't take you long to put two and two together. You followed some of his colleagues on social media and out of desperation starting stalking all of them to see if he was cheating on you. Once you found that the page of that new hunter he was working with you thought you'd find your smoking gun, only to be sorely disappointed.

She posted about him occasionally but everything was purely platonic. She never commented on anything he posted romantically and he didn't for her. It's not until months later that you see her post something about a first date with him, forced to come to terms that he didn't technically cheat on you but clearly he fell in love with her far sooner than he fell into like with you.

#love and deepspace x reader #lnds x reader #lads x reader #l&ds x reader #xavier x reader #zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lnds xavier x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #lads zayne x reader #lnds zayne x reader #l&ds zayne x reader

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frvnkcastles · 2 months

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Hello, I hope you are having a great day (English is not my first language, sorry) I've had this idea for a while now... frank x reader where she also doesn't have English as her first language but learned a lot from dating him. They are in a restaurant and she accidentally says the name of the order wrong and the waiter is very rude to her and this makes her very embarrassed and apologizing but Frank defends her and says it's okay... ❤️

THE BEST WORST THING ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re not a native English speaker and a waitress ridicules you for it, only for Frank to step in.

Warnings: Reader speaks English as a foreign language, hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.8k

Author’s note: The plot kinda got away from me at the beginning and I ended up giving more backstory than I meant to but I like how it turned out! Anyway, I’m sooooo here for Frank being head over heels for a foreign reader because I also don’t speak English as my first language and I have thought about this so many times before. I think Frank would be so supportive and fascinated and !!!!!! I love him so much. I hope you like this, anon and I’m sorry if you’ve gone through this before! You’re amazing <3

Not being a native speaker in English but living in New York was a great source of stress for you. You felt like you were in the belly of the beast, forced to learn under the circumstances, and you tried very hard to do exactly that. Still, you couldn’t hide your accent and there were situations where a mysterious word confused you or the pronunciation of another would make you nervous. It was a long journey to be on, but for the most part, people were nice about you trying to learn.

Nonetheless, when you met Frank, you were terrified. Even though you didn’t know him that well, only through brief encounters in the hallway that you shared, you had quickly put together him being an all-American kind of guy with a military background serving as proof of his loyalty to the country. And you were… not that. Well, you were trying to be a good citizen, but you couldn’t match his level, and that made you anxious around him.

But you were brought face to face with him, anyway. It was a particularly rainy day, with the sky opening up and releasing a hellish storm just as you were making it home. You were relieved to arrive at the front entrance of the apartment building, but you were soon slapped in the face with the disappointing truth — you had forgotten your keys at home.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to stand in the rain for long.

”Locked out?” his gruff voice startled you out of your thoughts, and flinching as his tall frame loomed over you, you turned to meet Frank. He was sopping wet, hair slicked back and his jacket drenched through, but he seemed more worried about you in your t-shirt and little skirt.

”Uh, yeah. Forgot keys at home”, you stammered out, standing aside as he whipped out his own set and unlocked the door for you. He graciously moved to give you space to walk in, and you snuck inside for shelter from the rain. He followed you, running his hand through his soaked hair before stepping into the elevator, and you did the same.

”Thank you”, you sent a smile his way before turning to stare at the elevator doors and twisting your sleeves uncomfortably. He made you so, so nervous, and he could tell, causing an amused smile to tug on his lips as he watched you avoid eye contact and tap your foot impatiently.

”Where you from, ma’am?” he broke the silence, and instinctively looking over to him, you found him narrowing his eyes at you, like he was trying to decipher an enigma. You felt the same way about him, like he was a complete mystery except for his Marine background, but that had been enough to make you wonder if he was a dangerous man.

You told him where you had moved from, earning a curious nod from him. ”Like the accent. Don’t let this city take it away from you”, he noted, and stunned by the compliment, you didn’t know what to say. You had no time, either, when the elevator doors opened with a ding, and he stepped out.

You went after him, unable to dodge him considering your apartments were across the same hallway, but a small smile was on your lips now. Only when you got to your door, you realized your keys were still inside and Frank couldn’t exactly let you in this time.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion, hesitating at his own doorstep. ”I have the landlord’s number. I, uh, could make some coffee while you wait”, he suggested softly, trying not to seem too menacing. He noticed you debating for a moment, but eventually, you agreed.

”Landlord?” you queried carefully, and chuckling, Frank nodded.

”Yeah, he’ll unlock the door for ya. He ain’t exactly fast, though, so you might get a lil bored sitting in the hallway waitin’ for him”, he explained, and a little embarrassed that you hadn’t put the pieces together, you made a sound.

”Alright. Well, you’re kind. Thank you, Frank”, you spoke, taking a shot in the dark — he had introduced himself once, but you had been so shaky sharing the same space with him that you couldn’t be sure you had memorized it correctly, at all. He didn’t correct you, though, so you took it as a success and stepped into his apartment.

He found a lot of excuses to bump into you after that. He helped you carry groceries inside and he fixed your leaking faucet, and in doing so, he taught you a lot of words you hadn’t had any clue about. He had a very specific way of speaking, you noticed, and you didn’t always understand his phrasing, but he encouraged you to ask. He didn’t do it to confuse you, it was just a habit, and one that you actually enjoyed. He had a nice voice and you liked listening to him even if he was lecturing you about keeping yourself safe in the city. In return, you taught him some words of your own language, and he was eager to understand your background better.

Through late nights teaching each other in your kitchen, you fell for him and he fell for you. Neither of you expected to find something so special in a neighbor, but the spark between you was impossible to deny or ignore, and so, he asked you out on a date, a real one. He was a little old-fashioned that way, wanting to take you to a fancy restaurant and spoil you, even though he had already made an impression on you. But you liked the idea, so you agreed.

On the night of the date, you felt a ball of nerves in your gut. The restaurant was, indeed, fancy, almost too much. You felt like a fish out of water — you were dressed the part, sure, and Frank had praised the way you looked with his eyes constantly scanning you over and over again. But as soon as the menu was put in front of you and you took a look at all the options, your heart sank. You weren’t sure you understood any of the intricate details on every order, and panic slowly reared its head in your chest as you tried to find anything you could actually pronounce.

”What’s this one?” you asked Frank repeatedly, your voice just a hushed whisper to avoid anyone realizing how clueless you were. Frank didn’t mind, though, and he made sure to clarify everything as thoroughly as you needed, his hand holding yours over the table as he described the options for you.

With his help, you found a meal you liked, and when the waitress arrived to take your order, you hyped yourself up to say it out loud. And when you did… it didn’t go so well.

As your misspoken words hung in the air, the waitress’ smile dropped and annoyance dawned on her face. You didn’t even fully realize you had said anything wrong, until she made a point out of it.

”This is America. Shouldn’t you know how to at least speak the language? I have no idea what you just said”, she scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. You blushed furiously and wished the ground would swallow you whole, shrinking in your seat as the shame flooded you.

”I—I’m sorry”, you began, not sure what else to do except apologize for your incompetence, but Frank cut in quickly.

”Don’t apologize, sweetheart. You did good and I know exactly what you meant”, he rasped, giving you an affirming nod before turning to the waitress with a scowl. ”You ain’t gotta be so rude, for Christ’s sake. The lady’s tryin’, can’t you tell? Have some goddamn respect for the effort”, he continued, not bothering to hide his frustration as he glared at the waitress. You smiled faintly, feeling comforted by Frank standing up for you, and it almost made up for the embarrassment itching inside you.

The waitress turned on her heel and left the table, and as soon as she was gone, Frank was reaching for you, a concerned look in his eyes. ”You okay, darlin’?” he asked, all his anger gone — or at least, in hiding. He was gentle with you, and you appreciated it, but it didn’t stop a tear from slipping from the corner of your eye.

”Just a little embarrassed”, you admitted, wiping your eyes and sniffling. You didn’t want to cause a scene, but you suspected the waitress had already done that, and you were too scared to look around you in case you’d find judging stares everywhere.

”Hey, hey, hey. You got nothin’ to be embarrassed ’bout. It’s fuckin’ hard to learn a new language. The fact that you’re doin’ this well is real impressive, sweetheart. Everyone makes mistakes and that waitress is a piece of work for bein’ so hard on ya”, he insisted, trying to catch your gaze but you struggled to look at him.

”I guess. Thank you, Frank”, you sighed, but despite your gratitude, he could tell it bothered you — which meant it still bothered him, too. He thought you were so admirable for trying, and he absolutely adored your accent, and he hated the idea of anyone attempting to put you down for not knowing everything perfectly.

The waitress returned with your plates, and you felt uneasy, but stayed silent. ”Can I get you anything else?” she asked, and without skipping a beat, Frank piped up.

”Yeah. A goddamn apology”, he nodded towards you, and with a defeated nod, the waitress turned to you. She apologized, and you weren’t entirely sure she meant it, but it was something. And what really mattered was that Frank defended you to the end.

When she left once again, Frank squeezed your hand. ”I’m sorry that happened, darlin’. You’re tryin’ hard and I see it. I think you’re doin’ a fantastic job, yeah?” he frowned, and feeling a little better by his encouragement, you gave him a smile.

”Well, I’ve learned a lot from you”, you reminded, making him snort.

”Yeah, bunch o’ swear words, huh?” he smirked, his eyes full of something warm and soft as he looked at you. He got you to giggle, so he considered his job done.

”We can still make this a damn good date, sweetheart. Whaddya say?” he asked, wanting you to walk out of the restaurant with a smile, and you didn’t doubt that you would.

”I trust you, Frank”, you promised, meaning every word.

He was right — it was a great date even, especially when he finally kissed you at the end of it, after having daydreamed about tasting your lips for weeks. And the next day? He went right back to that restaurant and made a complaint to the manager, determined to shield you from any further bad experiences.

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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astralnymphh · 10 months

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can we have some caregiver Ellie comforting u when you’re stressed cuz of school cuz I have an exam tmrw and I’m about to break down like ims erioisly about to start tweaking

first try at some reallll fluff, SFW!! lovey dovey!! ♡.

caregiver!ellie who will legit prepare a whole damn sauna for you to relax in. yes, going bath route. will cosset you and plant you in a warm basin of bubbly water, letting you soak up the suds on your skin whilst she undresses, speaking under the muffle of her shirt being tossed over, "can't let that bath go– mph– to waste so.." shimmies her jeans off to her ankles, "joining you." with the most loving smirk that you probably can't even see cause ur eyes are locked on the blank bath wall, thoughts running amok about that doomed exam. then the swish of water snaps droplets onto your back as her ankles sink in, swerving around your body and slouching down fully to koala–cup herself over you. now that would sever any blight of vexing thoughts, her touch. her calves glissade on each side of yours, her steely fingers meld into the flesh of your waist and pulls your backside plane to her groin, then imparts that exact pressure to your chest, asking you to lie against her non–verbally. goddess hecate, please save me cause her SKINN– ughh her skin would feel like a plush layer of cashmere under the water. her chest just radiates an enigma of flurrying heat that no electric heater could ever compare to, a kind of calidity that stems from the beating ballad of a heart. ౨ৎ anyways I went a little off beat there. her biceps, they hug yours, and her arms lank down to your belly, holding the curve of it (els especially loves belly pouches dont even get me started on els who loves ur body) and just brushing her thumb over the tender skin. does some dorky foolery like plunking her finger in your belly button for a second and going "boop." with a wrinkly smile you can hear– and feel on your nape. bespeckles your neck with kisses and licks, suckling every drop of water beelining from your head, bumps ur body lightly with her nosy nuzzles becked onto your scruff, whispering thickly, "fuck school, yeah? just hang out with me, so I can kiss you like this–" a puckered kiss to your lobe, "and this–" another given to your jaw, only sneaking closer n closer to ur lips, and with every kiss sewn her cute pointy nose just wriggles as it nudges you– random thought. sways you with her body, humming a raspy rendition of 'take on me' while her wet lashes bat on your nape, fucking melting in the existence of such a fragile moment living right between her arms. ౨ৎ

so what do we think of my fluff skills. it was so hard to not think of ellie fingering you in the bath AHHHHHH.

#ellie williams #⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks #⋆ .fleshhunger #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #lesbian #sapphic #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie williams fic #ellie williams concept #ellie williams headcanons #caregiver!ellie #ellie williams blurb #ellie williams drabble

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rebouks · 7 months

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Brodie Sampson was a foreboding man, but he somewhat reminded Robin of his father; tough and weathered on the outside, with a soft, gooey centre reserved for those who knew him closely. His voice was gruff when he finally decided to speak.

“I thought I told you not to wander off-.. and who is this?”

Alex rolled her eyes, resenting the way her father constantly scolded her for leaving the watchtower, despite the fact that he left for hours and hours every day.

“I was bored, and this is Robin-.. but he can’t talk.”

Brodie scoffed, “That’s convenient.”

“He’s fun and nice, don’t stress over it-.. please?” Alex asked, or rather, demanded, throwing a dusty notepad and a pencil in front of Robin. He’d promised to write his address down for her so she could write to him, they were going to be pen-pals!

Brodie grumbled, immediately dropping any misgivings, just as Alex had asked. “What do you want from the store?”

“Gummy worms!” Alex shouted.

“You’ll have no teeth left…” Brodie tutted, grabbing his coat.

“They’ll grow back.” Alex shoved a finger in her mouth, prodding the exposed gum where her front teeth used to be.

“Hm-.. you better get yourself gone soon, son. I’m sure your parents are wondering where you are.” Brodie squinted at Alex as he headed out, as if to warn her against convincing Robin to stay any longer; she stuck her tongue out at him.

Robin nodded as Brodie left, hastily scrawling down the rest of his address. He wondered if he ought to write anything else, an apology perhaps? He felt bad that he hadn’t managed to speak to Alex yet, but he was going home soon, so the opportunity had already passed. Maybe he didn’t have anything interesting to say, anyway.

“He’s nice really, he’s just-.. moody, or whatever.”

Robin forced a smile as she continued.

“It’s so not fair, having to stay cooped up in here all day-.. what does he expect?”

Robin supposed he expected his daughter to listen to him, though he also supposed it wasn’t fair that she had to stay here alone every day either. Did she go to school? Were they on some kind of permanent vacation? He’d have to remember to ask her when they wrote to one another, they’d have more chance of getting to know each other that way-.. especially since he still seemed unable to talk like a normal human being.

Alex hovered at the top of the staircase, blocking Robin’s path.

“I don’t want you to go-.. home, I mean.” She clarified.

For some reason, Robin found it hard to read Alex, but he could sense enough to know that she was lonely. She seemed much more present than anyone else he knew; often avoiding thinking about the past or the future, or ruminating on her thoughts for too long, instead acting on contagious, frivolous impulsiveness.

He couldn’t decide whether it was refreshing or frustrating. He’d gotten used to knowing what went on in people’s minds, and whether he liked it or not, Alex was an enigma. Robin would’ve done anything to avoid going home-.. and back to school, but since he couldn’t say so out loud, he did the next best thing.

“Ough!” Alex squeaked with surprise as Robin yanked her off her feet, wrapping his arms around her in a vice like bear hug.

Since he was so awkward with his words-.. or lack thereof, she’d wrongly assumed he’d be weirded out by physical affection too. Giggling slightly, she decided it was quite nice to be wrong. Her father wasn’t exactly a hugger, and it wasn’t as though she had anyone else she could randomly accost with her need for affection, people would think she was odd or clingy.

“I guess you don’t want to go either?” She asked, almost rhetorically.

Robin shook his head vigorously, tilting backwards precariously until Alex squealed again.

“Okay, okay, you can put me down now.. I promise I’ll write!”

Previous // Next

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #robin finch #alexandra sampson #brodie sampson #helppppppp they're too cute #i need to go lay down #let's just stay here forever #😭#forever in between is now forever camping fkjdkfj

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yellow-berrys · 2 years

Text

he's like that | sirius black x fem!reader

summary: Sirius Black is colder than ice, and you are not. where you slowly melt down his cool physiognomy and find your way into his heart. all good things come slowly, and surely. fluff.

warnings: references to an abusive household, disowning, alcohol, food.

navigation | masterlist

Sirius Black was not the friendliest person you had ever met. In fact, his general disposition was somewhere middling carelessness and ice, a combination many people found irresistible. Sirius did have emotions, though. You had seen him laughing with Marlene, one of your best friends. When you had bounded up to her to talk with them, he vanished.

Oh, he was an enigma, that one. One time, he was in the library, laughing with Remus. You had waved to Remus and he had stopped laughing. You frowned and Remus rolled his eyes, walking up to you.

“He’s like that. I’m sorry.”

You had waved him away, “It’s okay, Remus.”

And that time in Charms left you bitter about him.

Flitwick had ordered you to partner up with Sirius, and you had. He hadn’t spoken a word to you, never.

“Now, class,” Flitwick had noticed your very one-sided conversations, “Remember that no matter what, you must all get along. I don’t understand, we’re all from the same house here. Well, except me. But not all of us can be intellectually gifted. Now swivel and tap!”

Sirius still didn’t spare you a glance. Shrugging, you remembered Remus’ words.

You were great at Charms and socialising anyway, you didn’t need some no-good, high and mighty aristocrat to excel. You caught the eye of Lily, “Wanna get out of here?”

“Sure.”

“Professor,” you raised your hand in the air, “May Lily and I be excused for prefect duties?”

Flitwick was very kind, “But first, please show me the Protego charm.”

You both casted it flawlessly and he nodded, “Have a nice day.”

“You too!”

Sirius just rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry about Sirius, he’s like that.”

“Not your fault, Lils, I don’t mind.”

“It’s never personal.”

“I don’t mind.”

“Early start on Transfiguration?”

“Sounds good.”

“He is just like that, you know.”

“I know,” you said as you sat into your Transfiguration seat, taking out some parchment and beginning to write. People filed in soon enough.

Sweeping a glance of your whereabouts, you caught the eye of Sirius Black seated close to you, who was currently grinning at the mess of Lily’s hair he had just made casting a spell to straighten it. Immediately his grin was wiped off, replaced by an indifferent stare, but your eyes kept moving. They found the deep brown of Marlene, who just smirked at you in an attempt to look cool as a cucumber for Dorcas.

The class was usually interesting– McGonagall always had the most rigid and demanding lesson plans, but she filed in with a murderous gaze today.

“Jeez, she looks like she’s on a warpath,” James whispered to Sirius.

“Yes Mister Potter,” McGonagall drawled, “In fact I just found a sixth year frolicking in the corridors, they had the nerve to talk back to me! Nice to see you Miss Smith, how’s the knee?”

“Well, thanks Professor,” Gertrude Smith adjusted her cast underneath the table.

“Right, page 679 of Transfiguration Advanced, I want you to pair– would you stop causing that ruckus, Mister Malfoy! And Miss Brathburt, please readjust your tie! Where was I at, yes, I will put you into pairs seeing as you, Miss Holt, cannot stop chatting. We can talk about Potions later, yes I can hear you Mister Crabbe. Your goal is to turn a piece of the other person’s hair curly and turn it back. Make sure to flick, not swish, contrary to Charms, Mister Black, we don’t want to cause a static mess. I dread to see what your Charms work is like.”

As she spoke, she flicked her wand in the direction of Lily and her hair went impossibly tidy.

“Mister Potter and Miss Mckinnon. Mister Malfoy and Miss Meadowes. Mister Pettigrew and Miss Brathburt. Miss Holt and Mister Lupin. Miss Smith and Mister Gerard. Mister Black and Miss L/n. Miss Evans and Mister Diggory. Mister Samson and Miss Perdentio. Miss James and Mister Gideon Weasley. Mister Fabian Weasley and Miss Rembrandt. And Miss Kane and Mister Rembrandt. Chop chop now, let’s get a move on. I don’t want to see pink hair or any frizz or trust you will be staying in next period.”

You grimaced. You turned to Lily, and asked her only half jokingly, “Wanna swap?”

McGonagall shot you an amused look, “No swaps, Miss L/n. We must all learn to get along.”

“Funny,” you snarked to Lily, “I remember Flitwick saying that too.”

Huffing, you point your wand at Sirius, who was taking his sweet sweet time talking to Peter. You muttered the spell under your breath and Sirius felt his hair coil up. Then you turned it back.

You turned to the professor, a small smile playing on your lips and she looked approvingly at you. “Page 256 for extension work, class.”

Sirius was apathetic, and continued his conversation.

You had already completed the work on page 256, so you chose to take out a piece of parchment and continue your Potions homework, glancing at Marlene occasionally to see her gazing fondly at Dorcas.

“Mister Black,” McGonagall warned, “Mister Pettigrew.”

“Minnie, you know my hair’s already perfect.”

“This is not about the charm,” she drawled back, “It’s about the practice, discipline…”

“And skill,” Sirius finished.

“Well, show me then.”

Sirius waved his wand casually and your hair turned impossibly curly, more curly than it had ever been. Then he waved his wand again and it was normal. You were grinning at Marlene, mouthing encouragement as she glared back.

McGonagall frowned. He shrugged and returned to his conversation.

The bell rang and she strode out, stopping at the threshold, “Class dismissed. Homework is three feet of parchment,” groans rung from all around the classroom, “on the use of Transfiguration within the cosmetics industry and its impact,” more groans, “It will count for your final grade, and it is due next lesson.”

“But the next lesson is in two days, Professor!” someone called.

She gave them a scathing look, “And whose problem is that? See you all in two days.”

Lily was furious after class. She stormed into Sirius’ dormitory, a whirlwind of ginger and red.

“Sirius Black,” she started calmly, “You are acting like the biggest grinch since Christmas,” her top lip curled, “I don’t want to say this but, you’re mean, Sirius.”

Sirius startled. He sighed. “Am I really?”

“She thinks you’re mean. I would say that’s a pretty good indicator.”

Sirius knew exactly who Lily was talking about.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. Sirius, you can’t keep on doing this,” she replied softly, “You’ve gotta let people into your life.”

“I can’t, Lily.”

“You can. And you will. I hate to do this to you, but you have to, Sirius. People are inevitable.”

“I’m scared.”

“I know you are, love, but you won’t be any less scared if you ignore everyone for the rest of your life. And I know it’s hard, but you’re strong, Sirius.”

“I don’t want to turn into them.”

“You’ll never, Sirius. You’ll never be them. Just, don’t be mean.”

“Where should I start?”

“Be yourself, but be nice, Sirius. You’re a great guy.”

Sirius started trying harder. When you bumped into Remus and him at the library, he didn’t glance past you, but nodded at you, like men did, he said to Remus. He started looking passively gentle, less cold. There were a few changes, but they became bigger.

He was headed to Potions after smiling at Flitwick in the courtyard. Flitwick, with his usual assuming nature, which came with being very very advanced intellectually, had seen right through him.

You had your arms linked with Dorcas, going the same way.

“So much homework,” she sighed and you nodded, catching sight of Marlene in your peripheral vision.

“Marls! Over here!”

You offered your free hand to her and she snorted. “I don’t do physical contact, remember?”

Dorcas’ head peeked out on the other side. “Really?” she asked softly.

Marlene went red and you smirked to yourself. She stuttered, “I guess I could make an exception.”

Dorcas hummed. You wracked your brains, trying to figure out how to leave them alone. You spotted Lily and James walking, swaying in a romantic embrace. I’m gonna break it up, loverboy and girl.

“Lily, where are the Muggle Studies notes?” you clashed Dorcas’ and Marlene’s hands together haphazardly, running to her.

You had never seen Marlene so flustered. Dorcas just looked surprised, doe eyes looking up at Marlene in confusion. It made Marlene shudder, but she regained her composure and linked their hands together.

“Awwwhh!” you heard Sirius, walking with his group of Marauders bar James, “You guys are so cute!” he teased Marlene, making kissy faces at her. Dorcas blinked innocently.

Marlene unleashed her most gnarly vocabulary at Sirius, glaring at him.

“He’s a little confused,” she smiled at Dorcas, “He means that we are both, individually, cute.”

Dorcas nodded, “Makes sense.”

You were busy chatting to James and Lily, “This older lady came up to me, and I was looking for mothballs for my wardrobe, right?”

“Huh?” James frowned at the same time Lily said, “You could’ve just asked me, I have heaps,” she turned to her confused boyfriend, “They’re the little jasmine balls you were juggling with the other day, remember?”

Realisation washed over James, “Ohhhhh.”

“Yeah, okay, continue.”

Sirius was stone-cold on the outside.

“So, Pads, you got an eye on any ladies?” Peter asked.

He laughed, “Don’t think so, Wormtail.”

“Any gentlemen?”

“Nope.”

“Shame. Well, Mary and I went to the ice rink the other day.”

“How was it?”

“I’m not really good on land, who was I kidding to go on frozen water?”

Sirius guffawed.

“I was waddling like a fricking penguin whilst Mary looked like the snow queen.”

You kept a firm eye on Marlene and Dorcas. It was a magnificent contrast, Dorcas so quiet and tidy and sweet and Marlene so fiery and hot-headed and rude. Dorcas made Marlene more mellow and more open to love, and Marlene helped Dorcas to be heard more often. You smiled to yourself. What a pair.

The cohort swarmed into Slughorn’s potions class, who was smiling that same old pretentious grin.

“Please,” he held out a top hat upended, with little slips of paper, “It’s random tuesday!”

The whole class were used to his antics by now and put up with him begrudgingly. You reached in, and pulled out a slip of paper.

It read, “34E” so you sat in the seat. James Potter was behind you, and he tried moving a spot to his right but he was glued into the seat.

“I know he’s beyond cooky, but this is madness,” he whispered.

You laughed, “I think it’s funny.”

Marlene walked in and you crossed your fingers she would sit next to you, but she sighed and sat next to James.

“Seat buddy!” James put his hand up for a high five that was ignored.

You giggled, and saw a hint of a smile on Marlene’s face. She herself began to smirk slowly as you caught sight of Sirius, nonchalant and handsome.

You had a general disdain for his aloofness, though you did secretly hope he would treat you like he did his friends.

“Hi,” you greeted him and he gave you a nod, taking out his quill and parchment. He swore under his breath when he realised he had forgotten his textbook. You glanced at him in confusion, half concern and apparently he’d been looking at you too. Inwardly, he melted. He loved nice people. But as he had come to learn, some nice people weren’t nice at all. Remember what Lily said, he thought. His eyes remained a cool, distant grey.

“Textbooks to page 420,” Slughorn boomed, “Ha! Get it?”

You laughed, he was more childish than any of you, flipping open your textbook. Surprisingly, Sirius enjoyed the sound. It was certainly different to James’ big loud laughter, Remus’ quiet chuckles or Peter’s hysteric giggles, but it was a good change.

Beginning to copy down the notes, you looked to the side to see Dorcas with her head in the clouds, as it usually was. Dorcas was the dreamer of the year. You finished writing and look around. Sirius was glancing at your textbook casually and you made a startled noise.

“Here,” you whispered, moving the book more to his side than it stayed in yours. He was unmoved, nodding again. Maybe you were worth letting into his life.

“Dorcas,” Slughorn called, “Tell me what the main component of the Healing Draught is.”

Dorcas looked at him glassily, “Pardon?”

Slughorn repeated the question, tapping his fingers on the table in an impatient rhythm.

Dorcas looked around, relieved as you mouthed “Wrathspurt,” scribbling it discreetly on your hand and showing it to her.

“Wrathspurt, sir.”

Slughorn looked sceptical. “Very well.”

Sirius admired you a little more after that. He was close with Dorcas, who was best friends with Regulus.

Slughorn dictated what you were to do next, which was to make a simple Healing Draught. You popped up quickly, retrieving ingredients, hauling a cauldron and juggling a knife, which you ordered Sirius to carry for you. He did so compliantly.

He was impressed. You were complete competence mixed with modesty and a little charm, good humour. You made jokes which he found very funny but only ever smiled slightly at. He wanted you around more.

Once the healing draught was made, you gave it a sniff and stared at it satisfiedly.

“We did it, partner!” You held out a high five but then remembered that like Marlene, he didn’t do physical contact either, retracting it awkwardly and giving him an awkward smile to match.

It’s the first time you’d seen him smile wide. It was the prettiest smile you’d ever really seen, his teeth flashing dashingly and his eyes lighting up. His aristocratically poised face turned into something boyish and warm.

“Okay stop smiling now, it’s getting weird,” you laughed and he shook his head.

You bottled up the potion and handed it to Slughorn, who approved.

“Best of the lot,” he murmured and you bounded back to Sirius.

“Sirius, he said it was the best of the lot!”

He smiled again.

It was a few hours later, with him and James lying on their beds.

“Hey Prongs?” he asked James, who was flipping through a Quidditch playbook, swinging his legs, like a Muggle girl in a rom-com.

“Mm?”

“Can I invite someone to our Friday night funnights?”

James peered at him, surprised, “Of course, Padfoot! Who is it?”

Sirius told him and James raised his eyebrows.

“I thought she might be a good friend.”

“Okay, whoever you like, Pads.”

“Will Remus and Peter mind?”

“She’s in Remus’ book club and Peter, well, as long as Mary’s there, Peter doesn’t notice a thing.”

“Cool. Cool. I’m excited, Prongs, I think she might want to be friends.”

“I’m proud of you, Pads.”

Friends were good for you, Sirius came to learn. James was there for his brotherhood and support, Remus for his knowledge and his wisdom, Pete for a sense of innocence and boyhood. They were his closest friends but he had Lily, a kind, furious, motherly addition to his list of friends. Marlene for his ability to relate to whatever situation she had going on at home and how they both hated love, and Dorcas for her ditsy humour, and dreams. Dorcas inspired Sirius. There was also Amos Diggory, he was the golden boy and on the rare occasions he and Sirius met, they got along like a house on fire. Maybe you, too.

And here that opportunity sat opposite him, head leaning on Mary’s shoulder as you giggled. You had complimented his choice of music and the questionable room decor that consisted of two broomsticks and a suspicious stick. It was Sirius’ night, James had insisted, toasting his glass of orange juice to new friends and enemies.

Truth or dare was being played, though by now it had turned into Truth or Truth, a bottle of Veritaserum sourced by Lily half empty. Red cups of orange and apple juice were sitting all around, Firewhiskey discarded. It had been because you opted for orange juice, and everyone else had joined you, not wanting to keep you responsible for all of them when they were past their limits drinking booze. You were sticky with joy and warmth, laughing and crying.

“Prongs, what’s your hot take on Lily?” Remus asked. James took a swig of his orange juice, dosed with Veritaserum.

“She’s secretly a world-class ballerina.”

Sirius snorted, “Evans? No way.”

“Thanks, idiot. I would be offended but I remember that you have less than two brain cells and pity you.”

Sirius pouted.

“Y/n, who’s the prettiest person in the room?” James asked.

You sipped your orange juice, “Marlene.”

“Awh, love you my little hermit,” Marlene smiled at you and you smiled back.

“I didn’t need orange juice for that, Marls.”

“Okay, quit it.”

Sirius began to see why Marlene hung around you so much. You made Marlene happier, more rounded. She was grinning into her cup of apple juice.

“So, Y/n, you gonna hang out with us more often?”

“One question only, Potter, but I guess. I already spend lots of time with Lily and Marls and Dorcas. If it’s okay with you.”

“It’s great.”

“Yay! New friend!”

“What about me?” Peter blinked at her and you smiled, “You’re my friend too, Peter.”

“Do I get a ‘Yay’?”

“Yay! New friend!”

Laughing. Sirius looked weirdly meek, weirdly emotional. You noticed, and he was surprised.

“You too, Sirius.”

He nodded, grateful. Inside, he was elated. His walls were coming down slowly.

The night began to wear away after the clock hit 11 and Lily had to go, so James had to go. Then Remus went down to pack away the common room. Peter and Mary sneaked off to her Ravenclaw dormitory. Dorcas fell asleep on Marlene’s shoulder, leaving her stunned.

“That means she feels comfortable around you,” you whispered and Marlene broke into a wide smile.

Sirius was sitting, and he was quiet.

“You alright, friend?” you asked him.

“The orange juice is warm,” he made a face at you and you laughed.

“It’s better than hot cola.”

“Cola?” he asked.

“What? You don’t know what cola is?”

“He lived a restricted life,” Marlene chimed in.

“Oh no, no, Merlin, no,” you replied and Sirius thought for a second that you were rejecting his whole existence. His heart dropped, “That simply won’t do.”

You left and re-emerged with two cans of something red. They were cool against Sirius’ skin and he smiled at you.

“What do I do with these?”

It was opened, and let out a strange hiss. You passed it to him, and he took a sip.

“Oh.”

You warmed one up by the fire and passed it to him.

“Ew.”

“Here, give me a sip.”

You poured it into a cup, took a sip and grimaced. “Gross. That’s really gross.”

Marlene laughed, “Me next.”

You were about to pour her some, but she just grabbed yours and chugged, shrugging, “It doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Marls, it’s Coca Cola.”

“What? You mean rum and coke.”

“I keep a family friendly household. I don’t drink.”

“Prude,” Marlene retorted.

“Dependent on alcoholic substances.”

“She isn’t wrong, Maroon.”

“Maroon,” you said, thoughtful, “That’s nice. Mar is kept and it’s her favourite colour. Maroon. Maroon. Maroon,” you tested. Dorcas stirred, eyes bleary as she blinked up at Marlene.

“Someone kept saying the names of random colours in the dream I was having,” she mumbled and Marlene shhed her, “It’s okay baby,” you looked at Sirius and faked gagging which made him chuckle. It was a deep and pleasant noise.

Marlene looked annoyedly at you and you giggled, “Think I’ll stick with Marls.”

Dorcas drifted off again.

It was a few days later and you were sitting in the library, legs crossed over each other as you lounged, reading a book. Dorcas sat opposite you, sketching a picture.

“So, Sirius, huh?” she asked, tone far away and feather light.

“We’re friends,” you said happily.

“Really? He seems to have taken a liking to you.”

“We’re friends,” you repeated.

“He’s different.”

“We all are.”

“When you met him, what did you see?”

“He’s detached to everyone outside of his bubble. Cold. But when you do see him start to open up, he’s very warm. I wonder what he’s seen.”

“Interesting. You feel the temperatures. I see colours. He’s a purple to me, deep purple.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’s royalty. He’s a mix of blue, for his calm and cool, and red for his emotions and pain. A dash of yellow, because he’s soft when you get to him.”

“What am I?’

��You’re so nice you can be whatever you want to be.”

You laughed. Dorcas flipped her sketchbook around and there was a picture of you, sitting peacefully.

“Wow. Wow.”

Suddenly the wind, as if heaven sent, gushed through the window in an urgent rush. It blew the pages of Dorcas’ sketchbook, which were mostly filled with one particular face. Marlene.

Dorcas blushed and you smiled to yourself. Again, the weather changed. Heavy droplets of rain began to fall through the open window and you and Dorcas squealed as she shut it. You both giggled and laughed as you ran back to the dormitories through the corridors. Thunder crashed as Dorcas began to look a little scared. Then a strike of lightning hit not far away, and she shrieked. She was scared of thunder. You felt out of your depth here, but were relieved when Marlene came thudding down the corridors with Sirius.

“Hey!” you called, “Marls! Over here!”

Marlene took care of the situation. Sirius was standing, observing, quiet.

Marlene turned and gave you a very specific look, which made you start walking back to the common room. Sirius followed.

“Is she okay?”

“Marlene’s got her. She does like Marls, you know. And guess what I saw in the library?”

“Mm?” His eyes peeked over to you.

“A whole sketchbook. Filled with Marls’ face.”

“I wonder why,” Sirius smiled.

“Marls is very pretty, Sirius.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Anyway, they’re gonna be at least two hours, I’m going to head to the Prefects’ common room.”

“Hey,” he stopped you, “Marlene usually watches the game with us on Saturday afternoons, which is where we were headed. Do you want to come?”

“As her replacement?” you shook your head, amused.

“Well- I- no, you’re our friend. And I heard you went for the Cannons. They’re playing tonight.”

“I’ll come.”

A pleased look came onto his face. It was warm and interesting.

You followed him to a small little nook where James and Lily were huddled around a wizard’s television, bright colours flashing.

“Pollarck!!!!!” you squealed as you sat down on a beanbag, admiring the Cannons’ Seeker.

“Pollarck?” James looked bemused.

“I know, he flies under the radar a lot and is such a humble sport, but he’s my favourite ever made.”

“Um?” Sirius looked at you, confused.

Lily translated, “He’s got a boyish quiet charm that she admires.”

You nodded, “He gets the job done, no fuss, no bravado.”

Sirius smiled, “I’m a fan of GK myself.”

“He’s funny too.”

“Butterbeer- never mind. Apple juice?” James offered and you accepted.

“Thanks.”

“We always keep it around now,” James smiled warmly at you.

“You’re nicer than Lily lets on, Jimmy.”

“She’s just in denial.”

You learned that an afternoon of watching quidditch whilst taking tiny very noble sips of coca cola was the way Sirius enjoys spending his Saturday.

“Pass the coke,” James said, and Sirius passed the red bottle. You choked a little on your apple juice as Lily and you shared glances.

“Sweet,” Lily began, “That phrase isn’t what you think it is.”

After a quick explanation, you started laughing at James’ bewildered face.

“What’s-”

“Nevermind.”

Sirius was looking just as confused.

Eventually, the game did end, with your favourite player collecting the Snitch very quietly and hurrying into the changerooms just as soon as he did, the rest of the team trampling in after him to pour electrolyte drinks all over him. You winced.

“The crudeness.”

“Marlene plays,” Sirius smiled at you.

“The crudeness.”

“She’s been scouted for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“I know. The crudeness.”

“Sirius and I have been scouted for the Cannons,” James said. Lily was smiling.

“Really?” you clapped your hands, “That’s wonderful!”

“They don’t even need to sit NEWTS,” Lily grumbled and you raised your eyebrows.

Sirius was quick to explain, “Pollarck and Jeffreys are retiring next year.”

“Noooooooo,” you cried, “Pollarck!!!”

“He’s well beyond his peak,” James grinned, “He told me.”

“And after our careers, a commentating or coaching job is practically guaranteed,” Sirius joined in. He didn’t sound like he was bragging at all. “Want me to get Pollarck’s autograph?” he asked softly.

“Oh, please!” you grinned at him, “Pretty please!”

“I’ll get everyone else’s too for you.”

You squealed, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!!!” Sirius smiled. Being nice was nice.

And that’s what he told Minerva McGonagall, lying back in her sturdy armchair in the living room of her quarters.

“That Lily Evans does have a way about her, doesn’t she?”

“Prongs did fall in love with her, I’d say she’s a great lady.”

“What about you and Y/n?”

“C’mon, Minnie, I just made a friend and you want me to start falling in love. Impossible.” Sirius did not get it. Neither did you, really. He thought there was nothing and wouldn’t ever be anything between you and him. Right now, he just really wanted to be friends. He wasn’t looking for more.

“I know, but you both work.”

He shrugged, “I work with everyone, if I try hard enough.”

“That is true. How’s the Cannons?”

“Excellent, Minnie, I think I can get you a broomstick that once belonged to Heather Proud.”

“Really? Oh my Merlin, that is exciting,” she lilted.

“Oh yes, and it only comes off my fantastic charm.”

She rolled her eyes, sipping her tea, “I did receive a letter from your parents the other day.”

Sirius’ face dimmed. He turned tense.

“They paid out your tuition here and left you the trust fund from your, I quote, ‘greatest grandfather who enclosed that all grandchildren must have access to the fund, bound legally and within familial bonds.’”

Sirius blinked confusedly.

“Basically, you’re financially steady, which is guaranteed by Perseus Black,” Minerva spoke softly.

“Why do you seem so uptight though, Minnie? Isn’t this good news?”

“Sirius,” she choked up, handing him the letter. His eyes skimmed the words.

“Oh Merlin,” he leaned back into his chair, “They’re disowning me!” He chuckled, before burying his head in his hands, “They’re disowning me.”

Minerva put her arms around him, “Oh son.”

“Why am I still sad about it?” he sobbed.

“Son, no matter who they are, they’re your family. That’s not going to change. You’re bonded to them. It’s normal. It’s completely normal.”

There was one thing that was not completely normal though, Sirius thought, much happier than he had been a week ago. It was Sybil Trelawney. She was strange, odd, elusive. Her big eyes bore into Sirius’ as she examined him.

He gulped, widening his eyes at James. Something was about to happen.

“Sirius, my dear,” she stared off into the distance, “Is there someone new in your life?”

He shrugged, “Depends. What do you call ‘new’, Professor?”

“A young lady. Lovely smile. Ooh, she looks rather like that girl who dropped out of my classes. I understand. She told me she had bigger priorities, and with that lovely smile I could not be mad. We all tend to go our own ways…” Trelawney drifted off.

She recollected herself. “I see, paths will collide and never separate. Interesting, interesting.”

All Sirius saw was that the tea leaves had drowned underneath his tea. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Maybe he should’ve dropped this class too.

“Ooh, professor, I think I see a heart! Oh, now it’s a gigantic 65 headed monster that has red hair. Merlin it looks like Lily,” James giggled from opposite Sirius.

“Lovely, Potter,” she sighed, “I do not get paid enough.”

Sirius smiled at her awkwardly.

“Well, Sirius, there are open ends in your life currently. But I foresee– I foresee a feminine force.”

She moved on to another pair.

Sirius facepalmed and James laughed. “Bro, I don’t know why I signed up for this class,” Sirius groaned.

“Eh, don’t complain, you barely try and you’re first.”

“I made up all of my homework!”

“You know Trelawney likes imagination!”

“Surely there should be a limit to how much freedom of speech someone has! Feminine force, my foot. I have you and Lily, that’s enough feminine force to last me a decade.”

They both laughed.

“Maybe she was talking about, about your new friend,” James wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and Sirius laughed.

“No way she would.”

“Paths converge, never to diverge again,” James mocked.

“I’m done,” Sirius sat back in his chair, eyes flickering around the room.

“Well, Sirius,” Trelawney observed, “You may be dismissed.”

Sirius “Yippee!”d and James muttered something that sounded like, “Handsome old teacher’s pet.”

He strode out of the room and into the corridor, immediately blasted with the sound of quiet wailing. It was a first year boy, looking so very distressed in his too-big cloak and clutching his wand. Sirius felt very sad, so decided to approach the kid.

You were clicking through the halls, from the library to your next class. You heard his voice, it ricocheted through the walls, and stopped, sneaking your head around the corner. Sirius was bent down, talking hushedly to a young boy. You could piece together their conversation.

“Little guy, what happened?” Sirius asked.

A small voice sniffled, “I got lost. And- and my term hasn’t started well. Mrs McGonagall glared at me today, my potion blew up in my face and Mrs Trelawney said I might fall ill. All my friends ditched me to go play Quidditch and when I was tying my shoelace, none of them waited for me. So I’m here now.”

“Oh, I am so sorry. But let me tell you, Mrs McGonagall has this thing- have you heard of it? It’s called a resting,” here he swore and the small kid laughed, “face. Don’t worry about Potions, it hasn’t mangled you up at all. I don’t know what you looked like before but you’re very handsome,” he said, tender, “As for Trelawney, why today she said that I would have a feminine force in my life. You don’t take her for real, my dude. Your friends? They’re not nice, little dude, you shouldn’t put up with them. You deserve someone who will wait for you whilst you tie your shoelace. I can show you to where you want to go, which would solve your last problem. I can be your friend too.”

You felt something swell in your heart. It was earnest and deliberate, warm and you wouldn’t ever live the same way ever again. Oh no, you thought.

This is how you would justify it- this impending crush on Sirius Black. He was so sweet and very beautiful, with those gorgeous eyes. You couldn’t help yourself. And it would be kept aside, you’d leave it alone. You wouldn’t harass him, no, you would continue on building your friendship with him. You wouldn’t act on your feelings. You turned on your heel, nearly crashing into Professor Trelawney.

The last time you had seen her was her crying over your departure from the Divination class. It had been a lachrymose affair. She looked jumbled, all over the place. Her eyes widened, larger than you thought they could ever get.

“Ah! It is you!”

“Yeah, afternoon! I’ve got to rush, I have Arithmancy, professor, bye!”

“The very Arithmancy you left my class for!” she yelled.

“I regret it!” You smiled back. You didn’t.

“You don’t, dear, good luck with your NEWTs.”

Your NEWTs did come and go, and after them you and your friends went out to celebrate. A Bacchanalian affair, and even you had decided to take a tiny sip of Butterbeer, recoiling in disgust and viciously trying to drown the bittersweet taste with your orange juice.

The mood was joyful. Basically everyone had been offered a job after graduation, despite their NEWT outcomes. There were a lot of people crowding in the tiny bar, most being seventh years. Sirius was sitting with James at a counter, cautiously drinking his orange juice. Like always, everyone was staring at him. It wasn’t his dress- he had just put on a simple crewneck sweater with the little triangle under the neckline and some sweatpants. It was his whole physiognomy, you thought. Every day you had spent with him meant he became more and more stunning. He had the loveliest face, sculpted true to Aphrodite. Where did I come from? you smiled to yourself.

And he was observing you, through his hair. He had a cool enough disposition to offset the amount of staring he was doing. Like him, you weren’t dressed up at all, but you were still pretty. Sirius had forgotten exactly how beautiful you could be whilst he was busy being friends with you.

Pretty? he thought, Am I out of my mind?

James tapped him on the shoulder, “You okay, Pads?”

Sirius blinked, hard. “Yeah.”

“Right, well I’m going to go talk to McGonagall. You’ll be okay?”

“Excellent.”

Sirius played with the handle of his cup. How does Prongs do this love thing?

He felt the seat next to him shift and turned. It was a girl, upon a closer glance at her, it wasn’t you. Why does that even matter? You dolt.

“Hey baby,” she shuffled close to Sirius. Her arm came to hook around his tricep, “You know, you’re really hot.”

He was physically pained by the interaction, prying her arm away. If she felt rejected, she didn’t show it.

“Thank you,” he said stiffly. He glanced at his fingers, placing them under the table and shifting one of his rings to his ring finger. You caught sight of the strange sight before you. Sirius looked uncomfortable.

“A drink for the hot man,” the girl declared to the bartender, “And then you can come back to mine.”

He grimaced, “I’m sorry, but-”

“No buts, handsome. I know how to have a good time.”

She went to touch his face but he caught her hand.

“Stop.”

“Will I? You’re far too manly of a man to really make me.”

“Stop,” he repeated.

She trailed her hand down his chest and he shifted back.

You were quickly shuffling through the crowd and he felt relief as you approached them. His eyes flickered to yours. They very obviously flashed in discomfort.

“Hey!” you rushed over to him, hugging him very lightly. He whispered a thank you, “I’ve been looking for you everywhere, gosh. And who is this?”

The girl supplied her name.

“Sorry, but we have to go, don’t we?” you tilted your head at Sirius. He knew this was all a ploy, but he melted, nodding, dipping his head down to whisper another thank you in your ear. You laughed and shook your head. Outside, he enveloped you in a hug. It was lovely and mellow.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Why?”

“I’m supposed to be strong. I’m a man.”

“No, you aren’t supposed to be strong all the time, Sirius. No one is. Men are manly even when they cry and it doesn’t make them any less if they are girly or like pink or any of that. She was forcing herself onto you, and it isn’t fair that if it were a girl, people would be all over it.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s warranted. Does this happen all the time?”

He nodded.

“Gosh that is terrible, Sirius!”

“You’re right. I need a bodyguard. You up for the spot?”

“Of bodyguard?”

“Of course.”

“Not cut out for it, I’m ‘fraid,” you grinned. You were already friendzoned, you were sure of it, you didn’t want to be bodyguard-zoned too.

“Shame.” He didn’t know why he felt disappointed.

–

Sirius was struck with the burning revelation the day after. With no NEWTs to worry about anymore, you were always with him, some way or another. He liked you. More than he should, maybe. He thought you were gorgeous and so, so, good to him. Good for him, too.

“Minnie, I think you were right.”

“Mm?” McGonagall barely looked up from her newspaper.

“I do like her.”

The woman let out a triumphant ‘ha!’

“I like the way I feel with her.”

“What are you going to do about it, then?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t think she knows, Sirius.”

“I know. Do you think she cares, though?”

“Oh, definitely.”

You peeked your head around the open door of McGonagall’s office. Sirius could recognise you from anywhere. He slunk down in his chair but McGonagall gave him a nod. From the angle you were at, you couldn’t see him.

“Hi Professor!”

McGonagall smiled at you, “Well, good afternoon!”

“I was just here to ask if you could switch Lily and I’s Prefect Duty for tomorrow. I know it’s a short notice, and I’m sorry for that.”

McGonagall swivelled to the calendar on her wall, flicking her wand.

“Your shift?”

“8am with Connors.”

“Her’s?”

“8pm with Reginald.”

“Why the switch?” McGonagall’s blue eyes pierced through you.

“There’s a dance tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to be attending?”

“Oh, it’s a couples event only.”

“Aren’t you- Don’t you have a plus one?”

“Unless you can find me one,” you joked, “But no, it starts at 7 and Lily has to be there. You know how James gets.”

“I do,” she said curtly, “He’s terribly pouty most of the time.”

You nodded, “Exactly. And mine is nice and early! And I don’t have anything on in the evening. You do know, Professor, Dorcas and Marlene got together so that wipes out half of my dormitory. Alice is with Frank, Mary with Peter. Oh gosh, I must sound so miserable. Anyway, enough about me, are you going?”

“I’m supervising,” McGonagall laughed.

“Exciting! Right, so we can switch shifts, right?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you so much! Have a great day!”

“You too, sweetie.”

Sirius waited for your footsteps to recede to huff, “How come you call her sweetie?”

“That is beside the point. Young man, she doesn’t have a date for tomorrow’s dance. Do you?”

“No. I was just going to flirt my way in.”

McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Now you don’t need to. Go.”

Sirius rose, unsteady, making his way out already. He stopped at the door, turning around and flashing his million dollar smile, “Thanks, Minnie.”

Then he sauntered out.

He found you in the common room, laughing in a corner as the girls showed you their dresses from above the stairs.

“Oh my gosh Mary that’s so stunning! I love the detailing. Oh let me go up there, you are so hot, gosh!”

He heard vaguely a voice, a dreamy one, “So, you’re really not going?”

“Yep.”

“You know Diggory well, he’s hosting. I’m sure you could get in.”

“And be the only single around? I’d be third wheeling everywhere. Cas, don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Let’s see your dress.”

Sirius assumed that Dorcas stepped out, and you squealed.

“You are so pretty, Marlene will be stumped when she sees you. Oh my golly let me take photos.”

And Sirius was left smiling at you, as you rushed to get a camera. He remembered he needed to make a move.

“Actually, that won’t be necessary,” he stepped in, “Do you want to go with me to the dance?” he asked, gentle.

You whipped your head around.

“I noticed you didn’t have anyone to go with, and all your friends are going.”

You beamed, he was so sweet, sacrificing his own time for you.

“You are very kind, Sirius, but you should be asking someone you actually do want to go with instead of putting up with me just so I don’t feel left out,” you laughed.

“Actually, it’s killing two birds with one stone. I get to ask someone I actually do want to go with and you don’t feel left out.”

“You want to come with me?”

“Yep.”

“As friends?” An opening. Sirius took it.

“Nope.”

You looked at him, unreadable and quiet.

“As more,” he said.

“Okay then.”

That was it. Sirius smiled, so brightly at you, so warm and lovely that you blushed and turned your head away. He climbed up the stairs.

–

Oh he had never seen anyone more beautiful. He offered his arm to you and you took it happily.

“We never talked about what we were.”

“Sirius, do we need to?” Your lips were ghosting his, so close.

“You’re right. Can we go slow?”

You tippy-toed, pressing your lips to his. He's like that, you thought.

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