#bc i reckon its a nod to

[thatdeadaquarius]

"Oh my gosh do you sound like a sim to them??"

Me trying to place myself in their shoes:

"Why the fuck do I sound like a villager in Animal Crossing-- ARE THEY HEARING ANIMALESE WHEN I SPEAK?!"

(A.k.a I saw the previous ask and thought wait a minute. Two different worlds. Languages so similar but so different....... We're basically speaking animalese in another game/world lmfao)

(Bonus: Creator!Reader knows this and takes full advantage as their payback. Traveller magically understands and speaks back causing further pyschic confusion. Pretty sure soke brains have been melted among linguistic students in Sumeru)

-Vine Boom

VINE BOOM MY BELOVED IM SO LATE TO ATTEND TO YOU!! :'(

It has been a minute and yet, you remain my love!! Thank you for your patience, have a little scenario as my thanks for that and submitting the cool idea <3

Me @ you: ♥ ( ॢᵕ n ᵕ (꒡ᵋ ꒡ღ) mwah! /p

this gif is just really cute thats why its here.

also i have very little to add so its short but only bc im ✨uncreative✨ atm and ur ask alone is funny enough lmao, so once again, a scenario bc vine booms just a genius all on their own ✨️

◇

😭so you mean 😭 as revenge 😭 for this awful deed 😭 done to your speech 😭 you just start EMBRACING IT 😭😭😭PLEAASEEE-

PLEASE the traveler understands it!! 💀

Also if anyone reads this im so sorry ive flooded the sagau tag with language shenanigans LMAO

◇

Ever since you realized that the entirety of Teyvat sounds like Sims to you, (and the subsequent awful reckoning that you sound the same to them 😭) 

You have finally mentally recovered enough courage, and desperately shoved any embarrassment deep into your soul, to try and think of what to do about it

♤

You quickly found that people had 3 types of reactions to your speech,

 

1. They try to understand the nonsense like you trying to understand their Simlish, it really doesnt work, you wish you could tell them to give up and just gesture at you instead:

(ALHAITHAM he keeps trying then giving up then trying again lol, Diluc, ZHONGLI, Sara, Albedo, Candace, Dehya she thinks she’s gonna get it THIS time she swears-, Eula, Gorou, GANYU she feels bad lmao, Jean, AYAKA, keqing, kuki, Nahida, ningguang, AETHER, Thoma, xinyan, XIAO)

◇

2. They act like you when you hear animal crossing characters speak 💀 you can see the “omg so cute” sparkle in their eyes:

(KAZUHA, kokomi, barbara, KAEYA, ZHONGLI again lol he tries to hide it but you can see the tiny smile everytime you walk over and start ranting at him bc ur bored, Faruzan, GOROU, AYATO, YAE MIKO, keqing, LISA, mika, mona, KLEE literally loves you and you can tell shes always trying to get you to say something lol, Ei (archon), Rosaria she always SMIRKS and ur just- 😳, CHILDE the little shit giggles at ur misery, LUMINE AND AETHER U CANT TRUST EITHER OF THEM- , THOMA, SCARAMOUCHE BUT HE’D NEVER ADMIT IT BUT HE ALWAYS IS OBVIOUSLY TRYING TO HIDE A TINY SMILE AND GOES A LITTLE PINK-!! SAME FOR XIAO LMAO)

◇

3. You know that tiktok audio thats like Isabella from Animal Crossing singing, and then someone’s like “uh-huh! YEAH! OKAY!!” yeah like that, but to you LMAO

(ITTO, Bennett, KAVEH, heizou, VENTI, Nilou she like nods after everything you say and makes sure you’re treated well in every conversation aw, qiqi, KLEE, Raiden (puppet) + Ei (archon), SHENHE no explanation needed, CYNO too, LUMINE, YELAN, yoimiya, yunjin)

♧

Alright i got tired sorry not everybody’s there lol^

So no matter the reaction, they all are a little bummed nobody can get you, 

…but then of. Fucking. Course. 

LUMINE/AETHER as ALWAYS get SPECIAL TREATMENT 

(there’s not a single person throughout all the nations, the archons, the allogenes, doesnt matter, who hasn’t felt a LITTLE pang of envy for this- bc as cute as you sound, goddamit they USED to understand you when you weren’t physically here, before you overcame the Universal Barrier AKA the computer screen lol)

AND THEY GET TO UNDERSTAND YOU.

The Sumeru linguistics department is grinding their teeth, Alhaitham straight up glares every time they translate for you lmao, Zhongli’s eye twitches at least once everytime they do so, Kazuha is literally trying to bribe them with cool places he’s seen that the traveler hasn’t so they’ll share the secret of how to understand you, Ningguang gets 10x chillier when they’re helping convos w/ you, Ei looks like she’s fucking pouting-

☆

Aether is just like 🤨?? For what?? I’m helping???

So confused he never gets what’s going on lol

✨

Lumine, on the other hand, is FULLY aware and smirks every time she’s so smug about it LMAO 

^ the embodiment of the cat surrounded by knives meme ^

☆

Ahhhh my exhibition is April 6th u guys!

May I finally rest in peace when that day comes 🪦

Cant wait to graduate and just have a regular job and not academia + deadlines 😭😫

Hope you guys have had a nice week or two!

Look out for more posts after the 6th :>

Safe Travels,

💀♒️

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist

Short one but hope its fun my beloved!! :)

[kikosaurscave]

getting high with neteyam:

-unproffesionly use of weed

-kinda heated kissing

-remember that theyre young , high asf teens

-theres a part 3 bc i had a sudden gooder idea thats more age wise friendly

"cmon its not that far away" you whisper to the groaning boy who rubs his eyes, "y/n why in the middle of eclipse? can this not wait ?"

the look you gave him let him know your lack of patience. you js wanna get high ASAP

he walks closely next to you hand in hand to not seperate as you let the soft vibrance of the plants around you guide your way to what you craved the most for in the past 16 hours.

his fingers caress yours while you happily tell him about your current obsession "this plant , it is amazing ! and all we did was burn it ! you should have seen tsahik, talking to the walls of the peoples lab" you let out a laugh that he knows he adores. he could listen to you ramble about anything because he loves your voice

"i hope this is worth it" he grumbles to you, you rolls you eyes , excitement creeping up on you when you spot the enchanting plant of .pot

you tell him to gather the buds of the plants while you find a hooded area covered by the large bright leaves and glowing mushrooms and fruit , the spot big enough for about 5 of you to just chill out in and get smoke weed

you made the fire and by the time its lit neteyam reckons hes gathered enough , he thinks its been long enough seperated meters away from you but he js wants your presence

"throw some in nete , not to much" you smile up at him before watching as the glowing green buds spark in the orange heat , he watchesthe way the fire reflects in your __ eyes , the smoke isnt enough to distract him it just makes him want to focus on you more , just you

"it looks..cool. now what happens?" his honest confusion humors you, "come sit"

10 MINUTES IS HOW LONG IT TAKES FOR THE AREA TO FILL WITH THE FOG BEFORE YOU TWO CRAWL OUT FOR BETTER AIR

he cant tell if his laugh is louder in his head or if its just him , are you quiet ? or can you also see that bug on the tip of that leaf ?

hes def feeling it and its honestly amazing.

while yous r tripping you js keep telling eachother stories that you arent even sure are your own memories or not

you get anxieties when he goes quiet, you hear his harsh breaths from right beside you , his tail drags along yours and when you turn his way , its js immediate intense eye contact, this guy is tripping hard out.

"are you okay ?" you ask him, the worried look in your eyes js makes him fold, he moves a piece of your braided hair out of your face , tilting his head abit

staring into eachothers eyes while high js catches you both in a trance, to him your eyes glow in the different shades of the vibrant colours running around you both. the yellow coat of his irises could taint your view of all the different colours that surround pandora , there would be nothing as bright or as gorgeous as his eyes when the colour melts with yours.

"i want to kiss you" the statement is barely heard over the loud songs that the trees around you hum out , your curt nod has his hand holdinh the side of your head bringing you closer to him the other gently folding into yourown hand

the kiss is sloppy, full of feelings and passion, when you lean in and his arm moves to pull you closer, neither of you can get enough of the touch, you pull away for air but to him he js needs to feel you , suddenly your presence isnt enough like this is so rude to him js merge skins with him already- but hes gentle widit

he'll pull you closer while you both breathe heavily and he'll gently rub his hands up nd down ur back. hes never done this before, felt this before but a look into your eyes and the worry of being uncomfortable js disappears.

hands resting on either side of his face, you on his lap and his arms around your waist, both of you high as fuck

"lets go ride our ikran to ayram alusìng (floating mountains)"

youd race eachother there and suddenly you both feel like youre quieter than you really are, the day is soon and flying your ikran together feels like a dream, your body tingles as the air rushes over you body , you can both feel your smiles with your whole faces , atp you dont even bother tryna to be quiet when you return , neteyam is just a mess at this point and you wonder how he'll be able to continue his training today

unfortunately for you when you return to your tent your brother sits in front of the balazing fire, waiting for who knows how long

"tsmuke (sister) where were you ?"

is the first thing he askes you, he doesnt even ask if ur alright bro

"no where" "who were you with." "eylan (a friend) "how many? " "awpo (one individual)" "eve? evan? (girl? boy?)" "tute (a person)" "tupe. (who.)"

his voice is stern , the reflection of the fire in his eyes intimidate you , when he turns to look at you , you end up feeling cornered

"neteyam"

youre grounded from seeing him for until tsu'tey says so , you beg him to not tell toruk makto and he feels bad , the look his little sister gives him makes him feel like the worst person in the world so even though its unlike him to do so , he gives in and promises not to say anything

it wont matter in about a week though because the sky people are on hunt for the sullys , you wouldnt be able to see him for a while and it scares you

- end

ending is shit bc i kinda rushed the ending but it took longer than expected to write this , part 3 is coming

somewhat proofread

lmk what you think

[keravnous]

it's a man's world ; jim moriarty/reader (smut, 18+)

part i | playlist:you're moriarty's favourite toy

Jim likes to show off his possessions. Especially, when all the the small flies in his web are present.

word count: 10,1k

warnings: kinda non-con, power play, gun kink, public, degradation, oral (male receiving), facial, grinding on the tip of his shoes/getting yourself off, corruption kink if you blink, name calling ; sebastian moran has a cameo bc I am still mad we didn't get to see hiddleston in that role, irene is also there (besties alert), death, blood, light misogyny if you blink/power imbalance, jim has his whole army of super-criminals around for an annual gathering so beware of the stereotypes , i googled bri-ish roadman slang for this so please forgive me

inspired by that one "hello james" spectre scene

v said moriarty strikes them as the "expressive type", sooo I'll blame this on you bestie

You look down on the thin fabric in your hands. This surely isn't all, there has to be more.

You carefully drop the dress onto your bed and scram through the box and its expensive wrapping paper once more to find it - empty. Nothing, except a matching pair of longsleeved gloves and a thong in the same soft nude colour.

The material is just as sheer as the dress is, a soft rose tone, interwoven by hundreds of small crystals. They sparkle in the dim light of your bedroom.

This is a joke. He's gotta be joking.

You pick up the dress - if one can even call it that - again and give it a closer look. You are very sure that this isn't supposed to be worn on a night out, this is a bedroom-exclusive. It's long and sleeveless, with a deep neckline and a halter-neck, closed with a string of what looks suspiciously like multiple diamonds dangling from it.

You walk over to the closed door, leaning against it. You can hear Mister Moran and his colleague chatting quietly on the other side. Should you ask?

The fabric is light and soft in your hand and you tilt it in the dimly lit room. It sparkles and you can see through nearly completely, your painted nails shining through. You definitely should ask.

"A-are you, uhm, Mister Moran are you there?", you lean your forehead against the cold wooden door, taking one or two deep breaths. The low murmur ebbs, your cat meows and then there's footsteps, followed only a second later by a soft knock on the door. It rings in your ears.

"Are you ready, Miss?"

"Yeah, uh, no. I have a question, I reckon."

Silence. "Alright, Miss."

You swallow.

"A-are you sure, that this is all? All h-he bought, I mean."

There's a slight chuckle. "I was reassured by Mister Moriarty that the package is complete, Miss. So yes, this might as well be it."

"Jesus", you huff.

"Please, do hurry up."

"I am not leaving the house like this", your mouth is quicker than your brain and you can hear Moran freezing behind the door.

"I fear, that will be non-negotiable."

"I will not-"

"Don't keep him waiting."

You burst out a dry laugh, one, that catches in your throat. "I am nearly naked in this."

The other side falls silent. Where there was shuffling and rustling before and someone talking to your cat, is now dead silence.

Moran clears his throat. "I have my orders, Miss. We are already running late."

You shake your head. "Call him, then. I am not-"

"You do not wanna do this", the tone of his voice now has you falling dead silent in a heartbeat, a sudden cold creeping up your spine, "We may offer you a coat. Now, please, do get ready."

You swallow. "Are you certain?", your voice is a lot more silent now, giving away your blooming surrender and anxiety.

"Yes, Miss. I am afraid I am."

You nod and let go of a shaky breath, hand slowly lowering on the door. Its wooden surface is cold beneath your touch.

You know a warning when you hear one.

__

Even though Mister Moran and his colleague (the one talking to your cat), just as the driver, had been very respectful and discreetly kept their gazes away from you, you can still feel your nervosity rising. Jim hadn't told you where you would be meeting him - actually, until roughly an hour ago you didn't know at all that you'd be leaving the house tonight.

You had come home from work and ordered some food from your favourite Indian restaurant, readying yourself for a cosy night in - as the doorbell rang. It hadn't been the delivery service, but three men in black suits, with concealed weapons and a beige, large gift box.

You take a look out of the window as the rainy city passes by. London is pretty when it's dark out, warm lights and people rushing by, as used to the rain as they are to breathing. The driver hammers down on the gas and the engine roars, as the lights switches from red to green.

"Where are we going?", you ask as you pass Hyde Park. Moran sits next to you, the middle seat between the two of you is empty except for your ridiculously small purse. His eyes are fixed on the road ahead, visible between the two front seats. The rain patters on the roof and runs down the thick window panes, while some female singer's sultry voice, most likely from the 50s, fills the warm air. You fumble with the expensive rings on your fingers. Moran had discreetly handed them over to you while you were doing your make-up. They are made of crisp and bright, huge rose diamonds and - you recognize one of them. Monique told you, months ago, that it was sold at Sotheby's for an eight-figure sum, showed you pictures and you joked about who could possibly be rich enough to own such a piece. Now it sits between multiple other diamond rings on your ring finger, gleams in the light.

"Brompton, Miss. We will arrive shortly."

You know the district more from the colourful front pages of the tabloids - spotting their lurid guise when hurrying by newspaper stands on your way to the tub - than seeing it in person. The area is significantly above your pay grade anyways.

"Brompton?", you echo only to then - desperately scrambling for any conversation to not fall into uncomfortable silence once more - add, "Must be difficult to get a table anywhere there, I reckon. How did he managed to get a reservation?"

"Reservation?", he turns his head around and looks at you, eyebrows raised in confusion. O-kay.

"Yes?", you blink at him, once twice, "I- I thought I'd meet him for dinner?"

"No", comes the curt answer.

Oh, that's - well, odd. Jim usually takes you out for dinner and fucks you senseless on the backseat of his Aston Martin. It has become kind of a routine the two of you have fallen into, fucking once or twice a week, making you feel less lonely and taking care of the ache between your legs.

You catch yourself still looking at Mister Moran, not knowing what to say next. So much for keeping up small talk.

"May I remind you, that today is the 15th, Miss", he suddenly says, looking straight ahead, expression pretty much unreadable.

You fall silent for a moment, your eyebrows drawn together in confusion - you have no clue what that's supposed to mean. "Yeah, and -", you startle, "Oh shit. It's not his birthday, or is it?"

Now it's his turn to be silent, visibly confused. You are certain that a minute passes by, before his gaze quickly drops to the passenger seat, where the other man in a black suit sits. His eyes meet Moran's in the rear-view mirror.

"She doesn't know", the man murmurs. It's the first time you hear him speak all night, except the muted words that passed through your closed bedroom door when he was talking to your cat.

"That she doesn't, indeed."

"Where are we going?", you can hear yourself ask again, sounding far away in your own ears, rising anxiety hardening your voice.

Mister Moran looks back at you. For a split second - you won't actually be certain later that you did not in fact imagine it - a small smile tugs at the corners of his lips.

"Mister Moriarty is hosting a very special party tonight, Miss. It is not his birthday, may I add. It's more like a - well, a gala of sorts."

Oh.

You already open your mouth to ask A gala, why? What for? as the car comes to a halt in front of a massive bronze gate. A hundred years ago or so it would've gleamed golden in the warm hue of the street lights but it has turned into a dirty green-ish since then. The driver rolls down the window and exchanges some hushed words with the porter, who quickly opens the gate. It rolls open lazily, giving way to a long gravelly path. The engine roars and the car rolls forward, as you take in the scenery passing by your window.

Behind the massive stone walls, a neatly trimmed park awaits, with large trees and lush, green grass. The leaves bend under the heavy rainfall and the grass shimmers in the old lamplights lining the path. The park is divided by grey gravel that crunches under the wheels of the armoured vehicle, as it makes its way through the avenue of linden trees and warm lights.

The house - mansion, more like - that comes up on a plaza after a few minutes looks like it may have been built in the 19th century, with its adorned sandstone walls and large balconies. You didn't know such places existed, resting carefully hidden away smack in the city.

"Is this his property?", you breathe out, all anxiety swallowed by awe, as the car takes a turn around the fountain in front of the entrance portal, the engine slowly dying down. Moran hums deeply in his throat and nods. You blink.

You remember the first time you met Jim at the museum. He had something about him, apart from the way he treated you, that screamed power with every movement, every word, every gaze. He looked like money, breathed money. It's still a mystery to you, what his profession is - just as it is a mystery to you, which profession could possibly make someone that wealthy. It's got to be old money but then again, Moriarty wasn't and still isn't a name that rings any bells in that regard.

You come to realize again that you still don't know much about him - you don't know what his job is (something important by the looks of it - government, finances?), you don't know what his favourite food is, you don't know what music he likes to listen to - jesus, you don't even know where he lives.

You take another look out of the window. Now might be your chance. You're grasping at straws but maybe Moran will be of help.

"Does he live here?"

"No, Miss."

You want to know more, Where then - Does he life alone - Am I just an affair - Is he here often, but someone opens the car's door on your side. Cool air sweeps into the vehicle and you are greeted by the friendly face of an elderly man. He wears a livrée and white gloves, reaches out with one hand to help you out of the car. There's another man in a livrée, a little younger, holding a large black umbrella.

"Good evening, Miss - Mister Moran, good to see you, as always", he has a strong Irish accent, "Mister Moriarty is awaiting your presence in the Grande Hall. May I show you the way, Miss?"

You nod, taken aback by the sight that opens up to you as soon as both your feet stand on the gravel. There are at least thirty men - armed men - alongside the massive stair case. They look like they are guarding the place - straightened back, guns at the ready. You don't know much about firearms but you do watch the news so it's not that difficult to spot an assault rifle when you see one.

"Oh, don't be bothered by them", the elderly man smiles and seemingly means it, "They are here for everyone's safety. No need to be nervous, Miss."

Your hands close in around your purse until your knuckles turn white, arms wrapping tightly around your own figure. You don't necessarily feel safer with a few dozen of heavily armed men sporting semi-automatic weapons.

A thought creeps up on you, a little voice whispering in the back of your head, growing louder with every second that you look at the armed security guards. This is not what a private gathering of an investment banker or finance mogul looks like - there's only really one possibility left and you'd really rather not think about it.

"Shall we?", the elderly man turns towards the entrance and you don't really feel like having much of a choice left. Thus, you nod and make your way over the gravel and up the stair case. The gravel crunches wetly underneath the heels of your shoes and Moran follows right behind you, carrying his own umbrella. The armed men lining the staircase don't look at you, fingers resting on the trigger of their guns, suits wetted by the rain. Your head swims a little and you feel your fight or flight kicking in. But there's nowhere to run, with thirty automatic guns surrounding you and Moran right behind you.

"Oh, but where are my manners!", the elderly man suddenly stops and rips you out of your thoughts, his smile tearing the dark clouds apart. He looks genuinely friendly and it calms your nerves the slightest. "My name is Charles, Miss. I am Mister Moriarty's butler - since Dublin, may I add", he sounds proud and you wonder why, since you have no clue what happened in Dublin - but Charles seems to think, that you're familiar with whatever happened back then. Luckily, Mister Moran also seems to be a psychic.

"He has served as Mister Moriarty's butler since he's been a little boy."

"Exactly", Charles nods and beams, "I was once responsible for the whole family. The master was still a child when his parents had this horrible accident."

Something tells you, that it maybe wasn't much of an accident.

"I was responsible for his brother as well, but he moved out early", he starts to climb the stairs again and you hurry to follow, trying not to be hit by the steady downpour of rain.

"It was right after that boy from his swimming class drowned, such a tragedy", the elderly man suppresses an exhausted groan as he reaches the top of the stairs and Moran is quick to pass by and hold open the door. You can't help but notice that they all - the driver, Moran, the colleague, the butler, the small militia - seem to work like a well-oiled machine. They could be blindfolded and still find their place on this large, strange chess board. You enter behind Charles and are greeted by a warmly lit entrance hall. The walls are high and covered by old tapestry, adorned by solid golden panelling. There are low hanging, gigantic chandeliers with sparkling stones and seating groups of Mies van der Rohe's design classics. The low glass tables are full of empty champagne glasses and opened bottles, a few cigars still gleaming.

There's no one here.

"The meeting is already in progress", Charles says - more to Moran than to you, "He will not be pleased that she's late. Not to mention your absence, Sebastian."

"Well, he didn't really give us much time to prepare accordingly, now did he?", Moran smiles and it looks charming but is so so cold that it runs a shiver down your spine. There's something very predatory about him, something you noticed earlier, too. It's in his movement, his voice, his stern gaze - he's like a bloodthirsty animal on a leash. It hits you like a train: the sudden realization that he's one thing and one thing only - dangerous.

"Well, of course", the elderly man bows a little and nods, turn around to you, "May I take your coat, Miss?"

Your hands are shaking, as Charles offers you a hand. You really rather wouldn't. The thick, dark wool was like a shield and you don't feel comfortable taking it away. Your gaze is caught by Moran.

"You're late", he simply says and you actually fear him and thus, you comply.

You take a deep breath, anxiety crawling up your spine as you slowly take the fabric off. Charles is very respectful, keeps his eyes on the ground and so does Moran.

You are certain, that they aren't only doing it for you, for your comfort. They are doing it for themselves as well, frightful and knowing of what would happen if you were to tell Jim, that his men can't keep their gazes to themselves.

"Thank you", you can hear yourself say through the thundering of your heart, power surging through your veins at the thought that somehow, only just a little, they are at your mercy, too. It makes your head spin, the strangeness of the thought mingling with the surge of adrenaline that comes with it.

"You're welcome, Miss", Charles takes your purse, too and you want to protest - Don't take it away, I need to hold onto something - but you don't, inner resistance already beaten to death, spitting blood and crawling on the floor of your brain, "Sebastian, why don't you bring her inside?"

Moran nods - "Over here, please" - and offers you his arm. You carefully place one hand in the crook of his elbow as he walks you over to the massive wooden doors that nearly reach the ceiling. There's this feeling again, that you felt at the museum all those months ago, as your colleagues straightened their backs, checked their clothes. Like it's a familiar automatism you do it now, too - shoulders rolling back, your free hand straightening the dress. The diamonds lightly bounce against your naked back, reminding you of how little of a garment you're actually wearing.

"Don't disappoint him", Moran says before he opens one wing of the massive doors. There's warm, dim light streaming out of the room and you can hear someone speaking. As you enter the room, Moran carefully lets go of your arm.

There are a few dozen people sitting around a huge oval mahogany table, its polished surface shining in the dim lights of the huge, low hanging chandeliers. It's mostly men, just two of them are women. A young man, wrapped in street clothes that probably cost more than your yearly rent, is currently leaning forward on the massive wooden table, box braids falling into his face at the sudden movement. He's the one you heard speaking, thick south-side accent swirling around his sentences.

"-wasteman, y'know like, from my ends, innit? I'll hook'em up wiv you, guv -"

The door behind you falls shut as Moran closes it. Their heads snap up at the sudden sound and around to you.

"Whew, shit", the man next to one who had been speaking - wrapped in expensive street wear as well and in even more expensive jewellery, shimmering in the light - leans forward, "Fuckin' peng ting."

There's someone clearing their throat, the sound echoing from the walls. You know the sound, by heart. The man's head snaps around.

"Shit, sorry Big G, she wiv you?", there's no further reaction coming from Jim and the man raises his hands in a defensive manner, voice breaking a little, "Aight, man, aight. Cool, imma back off, don't be vexed."

You don't know what to do, hands folded uselessly in front of you.

The room is larger than you would've ever imagined and your first guess is, that it had been a ball room once, a couple of hundred years ago. Now, there's only the large, oval table standing right in the middle of the room. The walls are high, with dark wooden panelling that only breaks to give to way to a long gallery, which has balconies reaching into the room. There are, what you guess are at least a few hundred people, standing up there, vanishing in the dark of the gallery. Their gazes burn on your skin.

You look back straight ahead. The table in front of you is a few dozen feet long and at the end, hidden partially by shadows, sits Moriarty. You don't have to see his face to recognize him, feel his gaze on your body.

"That won't be necessary", his voice cuts through the silence and you blink as you realize, that he isn't talking to you, "You" - he lazily points to another man sitting at the far end of the table, right infront of you and you can only see the back of his head - "Wasn't that supposed to be taken care of by your people?"

He's scrambling for words, obviously coming up with an excuse, but you don't bother to listen, gaze flickering over the people sitting at the table. One of the women is still looking at you and you catch her gaze.

She has a stern, cold look in her eyes - the one of a matriarch, with her dark hair pulled back neatly in an impressive updo, lips painted dark red. You can't help being transfixed by her as she slowly tilts her head and - smiles.

You blink. Is she -? She is, expression thawing a little as she looks at you with a mixture of pride and approval. Her gaze and its implication pools around your brain, seeps into it and sets a fresh wave of adrenaline free, that runs straiiight into your legs. She's encouraging you.

Your body takes over your brain as you start to move. The sound of your heels meeting the polished wooden floor echoes from the wall as you make your way over to Moriarty. Step by step you can feel yourself growing more and more confident, arms gracefully resting at your sides as you strut through the room. You can feel a couple of eyes following you and, as you pass the lady with the red lips, she nods.

It has pure, raw power pumping through your veins, erupting in your stomach and spreading between your shoulder blades, has your chin rising up a little. You come to realize, that he's brought you here for a reason and you're ready to meet - no, to exceed - his expectations.

As you come closer you can see what's on the table in front of him. A notepad and an expensive fountain pen, a glass with what looks like hard liquor and -

a gun.

There's a gun on the table, in an arm's reach.

If you'd be a little more familiar with firearms, you'd be able to classify it as a Glock. It is loaded, clip snugly pressed to the base. It's his gun. It's got to be.

You swallow. He has a gun. The next thought makes you go dizzy, knees going a little weak: he most likely knows how to use it, too.

Moriarty doesn't look at you as you approach him, eyes still fixed on the man at the end of the table. The man, who had been stumbling over words and rushed excuses, falls silent as you make your last few steps over to Moriarty.

"Go on", Jim says to him, hand gesturing lazily and he already sounds bored.

You know that a bored Jim, is a dangerous Jim. They all look at him, frightened, tense. There's only one person not transfixed by Moriarty.

It's the lady with the red lipstick. She's still smiling, eyes roaming over your face. And then her lips move, mouthing something, passing on Jim's words to you - go on.

There's this feeling surging through your veins like electricity again - power. And like a puppet on her strings, you straighten your back, leaning down towards Moriarty, one hand resting on his shoulder, arm flat on his back. He's warm beneath your touch, breathing slowly. The gloves on your hands and their little crystals shimmer in the dim light, like a nebula against his dark blue suit, the diamond rings its little planets.

"Honey", you rasp, tongue taking over brain, "I'm here." Your lips dance over his cheek as you speak and his slight stubble prickles on your lips. You press them down, the sound of a soft, short kiss filling the quiet room. His scent wraps you around like a thick cloud and you close your eyes, take it in. It's your favourite cologne of his- warm and rich, vanilla, musk and herbs. It makes your stomach tingle and has raw, utter want pooling in your lower body.

There's a warm hand sneaking up your hips and waist, that rubs along your curves and then forcefully grabbing your figure and pushing you back. A small surprised noise escapes your throat and then he's looking at you - finally.

Moriarty's eyes roam over your body, thumb caressing your ribs, right below your breast. He hums deep in his throat and then presses his thumb against your left tit, lets it bounce a little. The material of the dress rubs over your slightly hardened nipples and the sensation pulls at your strings, sends shivers down down down your spine to your loins. Jim hums once more and your blood sings with it: sings with the unspoken praise, with his unspoken approval.

You hold his gaze, cheeks growing a little warm with his attention, as he suddenly speaks up.

"You, I said go on", Jim snaps the fingers of his free hand in the direction of the man on the other side of the table. His other hand is roaming over your tit, coming to a rest on your shoulder and then presses down.

"Kneel", his voice is deep and you blink, transfixed by his gaze. He looks cold, colder than usual, his face hardened and unmoving, gaze distanced and demanding. You swallow, ears ringing.

"Kneel", he says again, a lot more forceful this time and you obey, slowly but surely - like your body isn't yours anymore - sinking down on your knees right beside him, facing his side. The diamonds dangling at your back clink as they are being thrown against each other by the sudden movement.

Jim's eyes hold your gaze on the whole way down and for a short moment, they gleam. Boredom torn at the edges with excitement.

His hand crawls up your cheek, warm but it makes goosebumps spread across your body like his touch is freezing cold, patting you a little. And then he smiles, before looking away and at the stranger, again.

Your heart is racing as you follow his gaze and notice that they all stare at you. Not just them, the people on the gallery as well. The lady with the red lips still smiles, lowering her head a little in approval.

"I told you to go on, didn't I?", Jim sounds cold and one of your hands, obediently resting in your lap, darts out, stretches itself out on his left thigh.

His gaze momentarily drops down and to your hand, adorned by crystals and diamonds and then towards you. The look in Moriarty's eyes and the fact that he doesn't swat your hand away makes your stomach flutter. He looks away again and you take the chance, let your eyes roam over the sharp profile of his face, across his cheeks as they take in his slight stubble, dark lashes and the one loose strand of hair that falls into his face.

"I-", the man clears his throat, "We are certain that within the next month - that there will be a solution to the issue, w-within in the next month."

Jim leans back in his chair, spreading his legs a little. He's silent for a long moment.

"The next month?"

"Yes, Sir."

"And d'you think, that will do?"

Silence. And then: "N-no, Sir."

"Good. Then why exactly aren't you doing something about it?"

"There's nothing I could-"

Moriarty's expression shuts him up. He falls silent and so does the room.

"This keeps happening", Jim sighs dramatically and then lets his gaze roam over the gallery, where a hundred or so men and women stand, looking down at him in obedience, "Look at them. They would kill to sit where you are. And yet, you disappoint me."

Moriarty tilts his head and looks at the man on the other side of the table.

"I think, I'll do them a favour", he sing-songs and then suddenly, with a speed you didn't expect, grabs his gun. It clicks and then the gunshot rips through the silence, bullet tearing through the man's forehead with military precision.

You jump at the sound and can barely contain a sharp scream escaping your lips, starring down the hall at the now dead body.

The man slumps in his chair and then sacks forward, his upper body falling onto the table with a loud thud.

No one flinches at the sound. You're the only one.

He killed a man.

Shot him.

In cold blood.

Didn't even think about it.

You want to scream, to run, to -

There's a little noise on the gallery. "Come down", Jim sighs, "And do better. I hate wasting bullets." There's a slight rustle upstairs, like they're fighting, but you can't really hear anything else over your heartbeat thundering in your ears.

You want to throw up. Your hands start to shake, palms growing wet with cold sweat.

"Oh poppet, are you afraid?", he sing-songs, pouts at you playfully, "Don't be" - there's someone screaming upstairs, right after what sounded like a knife being drawn - "Daddy would never hurt you", Jim's hand darts out, fingers spreading over your scalp and slowly caressing your hair and the skin beneath, rubbing his hand in a soothing, circular motion. It messes up your hair but it feels - good.

"Are you quite done up there?", he raises his voice - bored bored bored -, "I've got better things to do."

His hand drops to you neck, rubs over it, thumb carefully pressing against the nape of it. It does calm you down, surprisingly so.

You turn into puddy under his soft touch, head spinning and breath slowing down, the thundering of your heart turning into a slow rumble.

"Good girl", he whispers, "I'd never hurt you."

And with the way his voice rings in your head, like it's slooowly starting to creep its way into the curves and alleyways of your brain, you start to believe him.

You hum - safe with him safe with him safe with him - and lean into his touch. The sound of a pair of sharp footsteps echoes from the tall walls and as you look up, a man hoists the slumped body up - blood drips down the dead man's forehead and it squeaks as he lifts him from the red puddle on the dark mahogany - like he weighs nothing, throws him out of the chair and onto the ground. The body falls to the floor like a heavy pillow. This time you don't flinch.

"Here I am, Sir", he has a French accent.

"I can see that", Jim sighs and the gun clicks again as a bullet snaps into the barrel. The gun dangles from his hand as he gestures with it.

He doesn't need to say more, the French man understanding immediately what is asked of him. "I can assure you, that we have the most secure routes from Mexico to Marseille. That means roughly - uh, how do you say - cent-soixante tonnes de poids a month."

"160 tons a month, Sir", the other woman says and you can hear papers rustling, "We had 70 tons coming in over Felixstowe last month."

"Any contesters to that?", Moriarty sing-songs and looks around the room, slowly lets his gaze wander over the balconies. There's only silence.

He seems content. "Sit", he gestures with his gun and you hear the screeching of a chair on the other end of the room, "Looks like we won't need this anymore." You watch the stranger sitting down, a servant rushing over to clean the table. The cloth quickly soaks up the blood, white linen replaced by red red red. "Merci", the man says and the servant bows, before hastily returning to the shadows of the room.

Moriarty's head turns towards you, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Would you mind to open up f'me, sweetheart?"

You look at him, blinking - once, twice. Your eyes dart over to the gun he's still holding. You know what he wants. His gaze bores into you.

Your head's a little dizzy, like your brain is wrapped in hot cotton candy that slowly but steadily seeps into every single remaining pore of your body. Your stomach flutters a little at the thought, the implied danger has your breath hitching in your throat.

You know what he wants. And - as you come to realize - you start to want it, too.

And thus, you nod - "As you wish, Sir" - and part your lips, tongue darting out willingly, as he smiles and pushes the barrel of the gun into your mouth - safety still off, his finger on the trigger. The metal is still warm by the fired shot and heavy on your tongue, the taste of it spreading in your mouth.

Moriarty presses it in deep, the movement forcing you to lay your head back, until you can feel it hit your palate and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose. It gets you hot all over and you know, you should be afraid since he just bloody shot someone but you can't bring yourself to care. Your blood sings with being at his mercy, with the way he looks down and at you - all glory and gore, a king with no crown.

They all stare at you, but you only have eyes for Jim - looking up at him through your lashes, gun resting between your lips.

He hums deep in his throat, clicks his tongue. "Mhm", he rasps, "Atta girl."

You beam. "Keep it warm f'me, yes?", Jim tilts his head a little and you nod as best as you can.

His left arm rests calmly on the arm of the chair, slightly bend with the gun resting in your mouth, trigger pressed against your chin. Your heart races in your chest, gaze set on him, who orders the next henchman to report on his business.

There's something about him, how leisurely he lounges in his chair, how casually he handled that gun, how he shoved it into your mouth that makes your loins grow hot. Jesus, you're fucked.

"Edith."

"Yes, Sir", it's the woman again, "Next on the agenda is the usage of the Aquarius Software since we took over the NEA company last march. Since then, we've gained access to at least ten different governments, their respective leaders and a handful of influential politicians - just in the past two months. But maybe we should hear Mister Sharev about this, if you wouldn't mind, Sir?"

"No, no. Go ahead", Moriarty's hand tilts the gun and shoves it even deeper in your mouth and you gag around the barrel, saliva gathering around it and dripping down your chin. Your eyelids flutter and you relax your chin, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. Your hand, still covered by the thin glove, slightly presses into his thigh, desperate for leverage.

It's like someone put a spell on you, with the way you look at him, watching how he tilts his head as the CEO starts to announce his company's goals and aims to furthermore undermine the world's leading governments. His thigh is still warm beneath your touch and you can feel his muscles clench a little beneath the thick, expensive fabric of his slacks. Odd. Your gaze drops down to your hand and - he's hard. His dick is hard, pressing against the dark blue of his pants.

You wish you could move your head, just to look at it . The palm of your hand starts to tingle, as a familiar pulling sensation pools in your lower stomach and travels further down, right between your legs.

Long forgotten is the dead man lying on the floor and bleeding out, shot with the gun you got between your lips - all you can think about is feeling him. Jim's leg is unbearably hot beneath your fingers and you experimentally let them wander up his thigh a little.

Jim doesn't react and thus, you feel tempted to try further, fingers dancing over his thigh where the flesh grows warmer, on its way up to his crotch. Your fingers dart out and you find what they seek, digits dancing over his hard dick, pressing firmly against the dark blue fabric and straining it. You wish you could really look at it.

Your eyes flash up to Moriarty's face and you can see him grin and it sets a wave free, hot shivers running from your scalp down down down over your back to your loins until they're ignited in your crotch and erupt in wetness between your legs.

Your fingers close around the bulge, his cock hot and thick and long, pulsating underneath your hand and your eyelids flutter. You can feel saliva gathering on your tongue as you come to realize that you miss its taste. The gun still presses against your tongue and your brain surrenders itself to the wetness pooling between your legs and the steadily growing want crawling in your stomach, clawing at your skin. It's better than nothing and your brain willingly conjurs up the illusion.

Your tongue rubs alongside the rough surface of the gun's barrel, metallic taste slowly being replaced by your brain with Jim's usual musky and salty taste. You whine, thighs clenching a little, as you suck the barrel deeper into your mouth. Your tongue finds the muzzle and rubs over it, imagines it to be smaller and warmer, giving away first drops of cum, not thin air.

The man is still talking but you can't be bothered to listen to him. The thought of Jim's dick makes you wet, aching for him to just touch you, fingers running over his clothed dick, thumb rubbing over its bottom. You can feel it twitch beneath the expensive fabric.

Your head starts to move, back and forth on the gun barrel like it's Moriarty cock and you feel him up as you do, hand closing in again, massaging him through his pants until -

"Shut up for a second", and Sharev does, clasps his hands in front of him, "Someone's down here has been a bad bad girl." He turn his head around and pouts at you playfully and leaning in closer.

"You want the real thing, don'tcha?", he murmurs and slooowly pulls the gun out of your mouth. There's a string of saliva connecting it to your lower lip that eventually riiips and dribbles down your chin. His dick is hot and pulses against your palm, underneath your thin gloves. Your jaw already hurts a little, a bit sore with keeping your mouth open but you nod, a small whine escaping your throat. There's nothing else left on your mind but his dick, feeling him, tasting him, making him feel good and being rewarded with bitter-sweet praise.

"Look at you, little dumb whore - can't even listen to the grown-ups talking for half an hour."

His thumb strokes over your swollen lip, corner of his mouth tilting up a little, while it wanders up up up, over your cheek and into your hair where he grabs a fistful of it and pulls. It stings, as he roughly manoeuvres you in front of him and you scramble on your knees, hands darting over his legs and the chair for any sort of leverage.

"Off you go then, sweetheart", he hums as you're finally kneeling in front of him.

It feels like someone pulled the plug to your brain as you dash forward - ready to please please please. There are a few hundred pairs of eyes set on you - on your body, visible and exposed in the sparkling dress, eyes hungry and hair a mess - but you don't care, can't bring yourself to. What are they going to do? Tell someone? He'll have them executed. The certainty of the thought makes your blood sing, your thoughts swim and you look up at him.

Moriarty's expression is unreadable, masked by his usual coldness, corners of his mouth tilted like he's bored.

Don't be boring don't be boring don't be boring his sing-song echoes in your skull and as your hands make haste with the fly of his slacks you come to realize: you turned into his private version of a pavlovian dog. Drooling, panting, desperate for attention and praise.

You don't even flinch as the damp barrel of the gun suddenly presses down - riiight onto the middle of your forehead. He could blast your lights out right now, execute you on the spot. It should terrify you, grab you by the throat and pull you out of that fucking trance he's lured you into but it just - doesn't.

Instead, you moan.

The sound echoes off of the walls and Jim chuckles, low and deep in his throat.

"Oh, ain't you just pretty", he grins and it gets you going, spurs you on and makes your cheeks turn red as your blood sings with the only thought your mind's able to conjure up - worship him worship him worship him.

One of your hands, still wrapped in the expensive gloves, darts out and takes his hard dick out of his pants, his boxers. It's hot and heavy in your palm, tip glistening with precum.

A thought creeps up on you. He let's you do this, he let's you suck his cock in public, puts on you in the spotlight. He could've picked someone else; you're convinced he could've - but he didn't.

He chose you.

Your eyelids flutter as you become aware once more of all the eyes boring into your back and it turns you on, knowing that he's showing you off, publicly marking you as his.

Moriarty hisses as the soft material of your gloves starts to stroke him, lips curling up in a smile, all teeth and gleaming eyes. He's looking down at you, brown eyes so so dark and you feel like falling into the void, barrel of the gun pressing down harder on your forehead.

Oddly enough, you trust him.

"Atta girl, suck Daddy's cock real good", he sing-songs, mischievous grin tugging at his lips and you obey to him, saliva pooling around your tongue as you lean in, licking a fat stripe from the base of his dick to the top.

"Sooo", he nearly sighs as he watches you taking the tip of his dick into your mouth, before he looks back up at Mister Sharev, "My secretary was so nice to inform me about the status of the current project. All still in order?"

"Yes, Sir. We are currently-", you can't bring yourself to listen, with the taste of his dick fogging up your mind in rapid speed. You swirl your tongue around its tip, lips wrapping around the warm flesh before they wander lower, peppering his dick with wet, open-mouthed kisses, tongue darting out and licking along the thick vein on the bottom.

The gun at your head shifts, leaves your forehead and presses against the side of your skull instead, has you groaning against Jim's cock. The present danger has your blood singing and the desire to please - be good, be good, be good - blooming in your chest, as pleasure shoots riiight between your legs.

Your lips move further down, hand darting out and pulling his boxers lower which has him chuckling deep in his chest, a low rumble that barely reaches you through the haze. The barrel of the gun presses down more firmly, has dull pain shooting through your skull and Moriarty spreads his legs a little further, giving you more space. He's enjoying this and it makes your head swim, heart missing a beat or two, spurring you on. Your tongue follows the newly revealed trail, dancing over his balls, before you wrap your lips around them, sucking on them. His neatly trimmed pubic hair prickles on your cheek and you moan quietly, as his scent wraps around you, a musky, salty taste filling your mouth pulling you down down down into his lair.

One of your hands holds Moriarty's dick, thumb gently rubbing slow circles over its tip, precum wetting the soft, sheer material of the glove. You suck one of his balls into your mouth, heavy and warm on your tongue, hand stroking his cock. He's still talking, voice steady and cold like you aren't kneeling between his legs, sucking him off and it makes you hot all over. You lick a fat stripe over his balls, growing wetter at the sudden twitch of his dick, the way the thick vein pulses against your palm. Your lips wander back up, tongue spreading your saliva on his hard dick as you realize that you need more.

The thought has you whining, gloved hand giving Jim's dick one last stroke before you dive in, tongue resting on your lower lip, welcoming his cock home. You take him in deep, lips wrapping around him, saliva pooling on your tongue. You move your head around him, moaning against his cock as you suck him off, feeling his vein pulsing and dick twitching on your tongue. Suddenly, like you're momentarily snapping out of it, his voice reaches your ears.

"And 221B?"

"We're at it, Sir. The doctor's security system is rather underwhelming, even for government standards." You have no bloody clue of where or what 221B is, even though it rings a tiny little bell waaay back in your mind, but gets Jim fucking going.

"Good", his voice is deep and coarse and his dick hits the back of your throat as he rolls his hips once, twice, has you sputtering around his cock.

"Hold still or I'll shoot you", Moriarty says plainly, barrel of the gun painfully pressing against the side of your skull, as his slim fingers press onto your neck, holding you in place. Your nose is buried deep in his trimmed pubic hair and his musky scent wraps around you, as you try to breathe through your nose. His cock hits the back of your throat once more and you gag, tears filling your eyes at the sudden lack of oxygen.

You try your best to relax your jaw but he doesn't give you a break, rolls his hips, ruthlessly fucks into your mouth. You can feel saliva pooling at the corners of your mouth, obscene and wet squelching sounds filling the air as he pushes himself deeper faster and faster. Your hands press into Jim's thigh in a desperate attempt to hold onto anything, fingers digging deep into the muscular flesh beneath the dark blue, until their knuckles turn white. It has his hips bucking and a growl rumbling in his chest, his throat. It momentarily takes your breath away and one of your feet kicks a little, as your slowly but surely are running more and more out of breath - dress rustling and diamonds on your back clinking. The rising anxiety of hypoxia, mixing together with his scent and the feeling of his dick fucking your mouth raw, using you has you spiralling deeper and deeper into cloudy subspace, hazy lust taking over your brain. It has your body going a little limp, your throat relaxing and wet pussy clenching around nothing.

Be good be good be good - and you are, fingers relaxing and instead of clawing into them, now moving along Moriarty's thighs and up up up, over his lower abdomen. You know you're making a mess of his shirt but you also know that he likes it, likes your hands roaming over his body whenever you suck his dick or ride him. He likes it when you worship him. And thus, you feel him up, feeling his muscular stomach contracting with each thrust into your throat.

The hand on your neck fists into your hair, pulling you away from him.

You're panting, chin wet with your spit dripping down your chin, lipstick smeared as you look up at him with teary eyes, mascara blotchy around the edges. His cheeks have the faintest of a flush of redness and there's a little sweat on his forehead as he presses the gun against your temple.

Moriarty gives himself one, two firm strokes and your eyelids flutter as thick, hot ropes of white hit your face, a few drops going into your eye. He groans as he comes on your face, intense gaze boring into your eyes, tip of his dick resting a few inches away from your eye. Small tears run down your right cheek as you blink the cum away. They mingle with it and run down your soft skin, dripping down on the dress.

"Ain't you m'pretty little slut?", he asks, gives your clean cheek a little slap and you nod, while he takes his flattening dick in the other hand and rubs it along your cheek, smears his cum across your face and lips. "What d'you say, hm?"

"Thank you, Sir", you croon, hands roaming over his knees and thighs, looking up at Jim, beaming with his praise. You're still wet, pussy aching and pulsing between your legs.

"Be a good girl and put it away", your hands move to his pants, carefully pulling his boxers up, straightening his shirt and closing the fly of his pants, while he shoves one foot between your knees instead, gun still pressing against your skull, "C'mon, take what y'need."

The tip of his shoe is pressing against your wet thong, material coolly pressing against your hot skin, right beneath your clit. You don't have to think twice, brain lost to the hazy fog of pleasure and you roll your hips back a little. The hard, polished leather rubs over your clit and you gasp, hips stuttering a little. One of your hands darts out, grabbing his knee. The pain of the hard surface, mixed together with your absolute need for stimulation has your abdomen clenching.

You bite your lip as you experimentally roll your hips forward, clit brushing over the leather and you can fell your pleasure crawling up up up, spreading in your chest, making your skin tingle with want. It's not enough, the lack of touch and the way you just need more and thus, your free hand wanders up your thigh, cold rings tingling your skin through the thin fabric as you run them up your leg and higher higher higher, over your stomach up to your tits. You grab one of them and feel yourself up, kneading it while you grind down on Moriarty's shoe. You eyelids flutter and you pant with the way it feels, hard and cold and degrading, but also so so good, has fresh wetness pooling between your thighs. Your pussy's swollen and hot and aching, sensitive the the smallest touch and the sudden stimulation has you moaning, breath speeding up.

Jim tilts his head a little, looking down at you. He seems amused, one hand lazily dangling from his armrest, as he watches you getting yourself off on his expensive leather shoes.

"Such a pretty show for our guests, hm?", he chuckles at the sight and you blush, redness and warmth spreading on your cheeks and your chest at the thought that they all still watch you but you can't bring yourself to care. You just don't, with pleasure spiking high and Jim - his words, his demeanour, the gun - fogging up your brain.

It's an intoxicating combination that has your pick up a faster rhythm, grinding down faster on the leather. At first, it stings a little but has pleasure rolling over your body nonetheless and you gasp, as lust floods your system once more.

You throw your head back in pleasure, missing the table by mere inches, a high pitched and needy whine escaping your lips as you rut down onto his dressing shoe.

The gun vanishes from your skull, only to press against the bottom of your chin a second later, keeping your head laid back. Your eyes roll up up up and your hands dart out, fingers spread wide on the polished floorboards behind you, as their tips hold your bodyweight. Your back's delightfully stretched and your upper body is on full display to him, chest heaving with every breath you suck in as you roll your hips on his shoes, hard nipples pressing against the sheer gown.

His other foot rises up and presses down onto your chest with quite some weight, has you deepen the stretch and a high pitched whine erupting from your throat, born out of lust and pleasure and the slight pain that ignites your back. It's delicious and shoots down down down right between your legs, has fresh wetness pooling in your thong, dripping down onto the black leather of his shoe. You know exactly what you look like: draped in an expensive dress and millions worth of diamonds like a billionaire's wife, but rutting against him like a cheap whore, a bitch in heat instead. You know it gets him going as much as it has you squirming, squirting on his shoes. The gun's still pointing at you and if he were to shoot you now - bored, bored, bored - he'd paint the floorboards and the table red.

Your hips stutter as you wet the expensive material at the thought - at the utter power Moriarty has over you - has fresh wetness running down the leather and your thighs as well, and you gasp, eyes falling shut. You keep grinding on his shoe, high pitched moans falling from your lips every time your clit brushes over its surface. He adds more pressure to the foot resting on your chest and you gasp, pain and slight asphyxiation making you dizzy, speeding up the rhythm of your hips. It's not enough, you need to feel him inside of you but it's also way too much, with the endings of your nerves on fire and

You can feel your thighs and abdomen contracting and your hole clenching around nothing and-

"P-please", you whimper.

Moriarty's eyebrows shoot up in surprise. "Oh, did I teach you that well, poppet?", his accent swirls around his tongue and it has you nearly going wild, "Of course you may come."

And you do, body reacting to him like he just has to press a single button, release washing over you as your orgasm rips another loud moan out of you, followed by heavy gasping as your pussy releases more fluid, which drips down his shoe and onto the wooden floor. Your hips buck and you moan, chest heaving with the sudden breaths you're sucking in, pressing against the shoe that's still resting on your chest.

"'S good, very good", Moriarty sounds satisfied and you can feel his foot lifting from your chest, giving your ribcage free. Your legs shake from your orgasm as you desperately suck in a few deep breaths, sacking forward. You feel the need to rest with the ache of your muscles but there's also something else. It's like your blood sings with it, like it lays on your body thick and heavily and sinks down on your brain like a blanket: you need him.

You crawl towards Jim and sink between his spread legs, left cheek falling lazily onto one thigh, right hand spreading out on the other. Your other arm softly wraps itself around his lower leg as you press yourself against him. You can feel his cum on your face, your own juices between your thighs. Your eyelids flutter, chest still heaving from ragged breaths and post orgasmic bliss, as you feel his warmth radiating beneath your skin once more.

"Obedient, little whore", he hums and you can hear his gun clicking quietly, as he takes it away, leaves it dangling lazily in his hand over the armrest. You're exhausted, your whole body hurts while your limbs are growing heavy and thus, you sink against him like ragdoll.

The silence in the room is deafening now that you're coming down from your high but it won't stop your blood from singing with Jim's praise and the utter power that seeps through every single pore of your body. Only you can make him come, only you can please him like that - only you only you.

It is much later, after they all left, when Jim bends down to you, tilts your head up and presses his lips onto yours - soft and warm and for a long, lingering moment - his hand gently stroking your cheek and his fingers brushing through his own, sticky cum, spreading it across your cheek. It's the first time he kisses you, in all the weeks you've known him. You know that you've earned it. His eyes are dark dark dark, swirls of green barely visible as he looks at you, visible affection flickering through his gaze.

"You are mine", he rasps against your lips and you nod nod nod, his stubble gently poking your soft skin, "I own you."

And, much to your own disbelief about your lack of mental resistance, you realize: he does.

__

"So, how was your weekend?", Monique and you are rushing through the city, hot take-away cups warming your hands. It stopped pissing Sunday evening and London decided it was time to start with the freezing temperatures. It's your lunch break and the two of you went out for coffee, now hurrying back to the museum's office floors.

You open your mouth, but the words get stuck in your throat. You have no idea how to answer that without landing at Scotland Yard for questioning within half an hour.

She looks at you. "You saw him again, didn't you?", she looks so enthusiastic. You'd hate to break the news to her - Yeah uhm, about that, well, he's criminal and he's using the museum to launder some money, charming, innit? - that's absolutely off the table.

Oh, and don't forget the classic: Yeah, and he shot someone, mind you.

But there's also no hiding from her and thus -

"I did", you can't fight your lips tilting up, remembering the way he manhandled you, shoved his dick into your mouth and showed you off.

Monique, of course, has (for 48 hours at this point) lived in a different world than you. Of course, her trees are still as green as yours and she reads the same newspapers as you do, but she hasn't witnessed a secret organisation discussing organized crime, nor has someone been killed in front of her eyes, wasting away in a puddle of his own blood - and thus, she squeaks with joy. Some snobby banker rushing by turns around in surprise at the sudden sound and curls his lip. You throw him a look. You might be seeing things differently than you did just last Friday night but you still know a wanker when you see one. You can't fight the thought of I know someone who can shut you up for good, boy creeping up on you. You must wear the thought on your face, because he hurries to get going. You take another sip from your coffee. You feel oddly good.

"How was it? Did he take you out?"

You sputter, pressing a hand onto your mouth, trying not to spill any of the hot coffee. "Oh jesus, oh Monique", you cough, half laughing-half fighting for air. It shouldn't be funny, it really shouldn't. You're a little tempted to hit her back with an: Oh, not me.

But you don't, because you're - again - not really keen on paying Scotland Yard a visit. So, you just put on your most innocent smile, trying real hard to imagine a peaceful, normal dinner to successfully sell her the story.

"He did, it was very", you can feel your cheeks reddening suddenly as his voice starts to echo in your skull -

I own you I own you I own you

- ,"Romantic."

[as-i-watch]

if your upstairs neighbor happened to be a strawhat, who would be the best? worst? most concerning? etc?

I liked this ask so much i'll do them all for free. From worse to best:

Luffy: the loud neighbour. He would stomp around and yell and sing out loud a lot. But he would also be super caring and you know you could ask him anything. But he's def not having my key not even for emergencies, all my food would be gone

Sanji: a regular neighbour but maybe a bit too dismisive or simpy if you're a woman. Delicious cooking smell 24/7 (that can be good or bad, is up to you). The worse part are the sex noise. Loud ones too

Zoro: probably the one of best neighbour? But bc he is an absent one, lets be honest half of the time he wouldnt be able to find his own place. Otherwise he's quiet, little noise, no cooking smells, just some training noises. However no way im asking him to take care of my plants.

Nami: Also a really good neighbour bc, well she would be just a normal human being. More clean than Zoro for sure. I dont know if i would ask her to water my plants

Usopp: also a good neighbour bc he also has a normal meter of how to be fucking normal. But he would be the neighbour that has the roudy friends, again, normal stuff except his crew includes the moster trio. Nevertheless I would ask him to water my plants when im away

Brook: he is good neighbour as long as you dont mind the music. Personally i dont but i know some people do. It might be concerning your neighbour is a giantic skeleton, but i think he would spend most of his time at home chilling so its ok. I would not let him enter my place tho

Franky: he has good intentions but Franky is so loud too. Like Luffy, you too can count on him for anything, and he could probably be more useful too bc he can fix ANYTHING. Also fire hazard bc he will try to barbaque in normal oven he modified into a transformer oven. However i think i would like him to have a key? I feel he would still respect my privacy and water my plant if im gone and would be good in an emergency. Def the most concerning one, i think i would hear explotions coming from his place.

Jinbe: bless him he would be the perfect neighbour, he respects boundaries and is polite, calm and responsible. I trust him to water my plants and have a key for emergencies. But the fact you said upstairs neighbour...those geta wooden sandlas man, worse than high heels i reckon. Just imagine that sound walking around all day, bless him i would go insane

Robin: the invisible neighbour. For me she would be the ideal one bc im a very reserved person but is the one you never hear from, you never see her come and go. From her appartment there are just smells of coffee and her balcony/windows are covered with plant. If you ever see her you just nod at eachother and carry on. Sadly i would not dare to ask her to water my plants bc we would never manage to stablish a relationship of any kind.

Chopper: THE BEST NEIGHBOUR. He is kind and attentive. He would really like to be a present neighbour, like a little comunity sense but not in a pushy way. Like you could def ask him for a cup of sugar and take him food if you baked too much, he would water your plants when you're gone. He is a fucking doctor too. The only bad thing i can think about is the noise he makes when he walks but that not his fault.

[starkettes]

you have inspired me . and i am indeed a child with figurines that i will absolutely show off to you even if you just nod and give a thumbs up at the end <33 my love language is pulling up a blackboard and sitting whoever im talking to down for The Talk and this will happen. you cannot refuse it <33333

(for real tho it took me months to also learn how to discern the links from each other AJSJSJAJ so yes to make it as simple as i can i will only deal with the canon 3D games . im listing them by order of their game release, but definitely not in the correct order of their place in the timeline(s). ily so so so much and im sorry in advance for the long infodump of an ask)

Ocarina of Time + Majora's Mask

the original 3d little man <33 hes like . the only 3d (adult) without chainmail bc he lived in a forest full of immortal children for his entire childhood (we dont talk about his age in majoras mask bc its complicated but just trust me hes a literal manchild) so AJSJAJAJ i differentiate him by that and his pants being distinctly white. the entire franchise and lore did him SO dirty but thats not the point of this (frothing at the mouth to rant about it but at another time)

Wind Waker

littlest of little men <33 hes the easiest link to distinguish from the others mainly bc of the art style, to the point that the fandom also calls him toon link. you can also tell ww link by the little swirly belt buckle thingy he has. also ALSO his tunic having a combo of dark + light green. literally forced the gods to choose him as his era's hero (he never held the hero's spirit in the first place) all bc his sister got kidnapped. absolute force to be reckoned with but still has voice cracks and Will Not Swear in front of his grandma in my hcs. all links are gremlins but this one literally sails with pirates so he has the background AHSHSHAHH

Twilight Princess

I WANNA BE A COWBOY BABY

fr tho hes so <333 AUGH. can literally turn into the goodest of good boys (wolf link). hes the disney princess of links bc animals Cannot And Will Not Hate Him. differentiated by the chainmail and his pinchable cheeks in game <333333 (also one of the only links imo that is absolutely not compatible with their zelda bc midna is rIGHT THERE. once again not the ask for this but i have. thoughts and things about tp zelink and tp link in general)

Skyward Sword

HES SO SOFT AUGH IM CRYING I WANT A PLUSHIE FRFR AJSJSJAJA but fr . absolute himbo and dumbass but vv much in love with his zelda <33 he has such a similar design with tp and its hard to be sure its him bc both tp and sksw link wear chainmail, but the art style of the game makes it so that the one who has the brighter and more pastel green is sksw link. his hair is also kinda diff and more soft looking, and hes also right handed <33

Breath of the Wild

do i need to explain. im so sos sos ssoss s9 r9rbf mentally ill over this reincarnation specifically <33 i really hope that i ruined this character for you now with my ability to not shut up about him for more than one (1) week. distinguished by blue and gender and hair and literally just everything bc im crying nintendo really hit peak character design with him and if somebody were to ask me to give a ted talk on him i wouldnt even know where to start bc hes just so PERFECT and augh look ok his character is so complicated starting wi-

okay it’s currently 3:30 am i will read this when i wake up

okay good morning im putting on my glasses cracking my knuckles and reading this like a grandma reading the news

the first two and twilight princess is crazy who the hell needs a hat that long i wouldnt be able to resist i would yank that thing off his head and run away jack sparrow style

wind waker link is so damn small he using a needle or something for a sword like he's desperaux 😭 😭 also didnt know he had a sister always assumed he was only child bc..well idk he just seemed like it to me

i was aware of wolf link (bc of how much u like him :3) but i didnt actually know anything so again i went to the fandom wiki and read it he's so cute (and midna rides on his back they look so cute 😭 <33) i am putting him in a puppy carrier and taking him with me

yeah breath of the wild is the main link i know of like that is the representative of the links to me thats the guy i know ALSO HE'S 4'11 I AM JUST BARELY TALLER THAN THIS GUY well a win is a win when ur short

this was great to learn actually and just know that if i ever get around to writing my head (1968) essay i’m gonna do this to you too <3

[purrvaire]

First, thank you for the tag and sorry for the delay🙈 I’m gonna post mine soon!

For the wip tag, I don’t know if you’ve been asked about it already but… Any snippet/info on obi wan is clearly galahad in this one? 🌚

Hello <3 OF COURSE so basically it's the kingsman au i've been writing since march!! idk if you're familiar with the movies but basically Kingsman is a spy agency whose agents have the knights of the round table’s namees as codenames; Obi-Wan is Galahad (Colin Firth in the movie) and Anakin is his protegé (Taron Egerton in the movie)👀 I've already written around 17k words, which is a lot for my standard, but you know * waves hand * life, so it's still a work in progress sigh

Anyway, a snippet for you <3 it’s set while Anakin is training, featuring Ahsoka (his baby sister bc im very soft for that trope), briefly Mace Windu/Merlin, already 100% done with the gays AND a lot of flirting bc I can’t help myself lmao

“She’s a charmer, innit?” he praises. “Hey, I’ve just picked my puppy, actually. Wanna meet him?”

It turns out that the pup is a pug. 

“Interesting choice”, Obi-Wan offers tactfully, watching the tiny thing yapping excitedly at Ahsoka and wagging its tail. 

Anakin groans. “Yeah, yeah, make fun of me all you want.” He nudges him with his shoulder. “Look, I didn’t know he would stay this small forever, okay? ‘Sides, I think he’s alright.”

“Can we call him Artoo?” demands Ahsoka. “Mr. Threepio likes it.” 

As she speaks, the newly named Artoo gives an experimental lick to the plushie. 

“Well, it seems they made friends already.” Anakin shakes his head. “This girl, bruv,” he says fondly. “So, I thought big spies like you don’t have time to stop by.”

“I said I would see you around, didn’t I?” Obi-Wan replies immediately with a smirk. “I like to keep my promises.”

Anakin ducks his head a little, a hint of a smile on his face. 

“I do have a mission, actually. I reckon I won’t be long, but I wanted to see you first, see how it’s going.”

Anakin smiles. “You don’t have to worry ‘bout me, Obi-Wan. Yesterday was mental, but it’s part of the job, innit?” He shrugs. “Better get used to it.”

Obi-Wan nods. “Still, it’s a big adjustment.”

“Been through worse”, Anakin quips. “Anyway, you better come back in one piece from your mission, hear me?” The boy steps further in his personal space, patting him on the chest. 

From up close, their height difference is even more evident; Obi-Wan doesn’t mind it. It makes it easier to spot every single change in Anakin’s expression. 

“Is that an order?” Obi-Wan smirks playfully. “May I remind you who’s in charge here?” 

Anakin blushes prettily. Obi-Wan shouldn’t enjoy it so much, but he can’t help it. It’s too easy to fluster him. 

“I know that”, he replies, his voice just a tad higher than usual. Anakin darts his eyes to the side, almost coy. “Would be a real bummer if you didn’t come around anymore.”

“Cheeky”, Obi-Wan murmurs, glancing up at him. 

Anakin, still a bit red on his face, holds his gaze. 

“If you’re quite finished flirting,” suddenly Mace’s voice crackles in his earpieces. Obi-Wan does not startle, thank you very much, but he leans back a little from where he was basically plastered to Anakin. 

"Merlin", he says out loud for the other's benefit. "What is it?"

Obi-Wan can't see Mace but he can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose. "May I remind you that you're on the clock?"

"Yes, thank you." Obi-Wan looks at Anakin who's more than a little perplexed. "Duty calls."

Anakin nods. “Good luck, Obi-Wan.” 

He retreats toward his sister, who waves at him with a toothy smile. 

“And you with your training. I’ll see you when I’m back.”

[uuujeewriting]

you can do it! [albedo, kaeya, childe, zhongli and diluc]

s/o has been going through a depressive episode and lacks motivation to finish their work and is getting anxiety because of it

tw: none, mentions of depression/anxiety, nothing too much. fluffy comfort <3

albedo x gn!reader, kaeya x gn!reader, childe x gn!reader, zhongli x gn!reader, diluc x gn!reader

a/n: self indulgent bc i'm way behind school and in the middle of a depressive episode so motivation's been lacking ;-; hope you guys are having a good week tho!

i would like to clarify that if any of these scenarios/hc's of mine are similar to other writers' works, it is unintentional and i apologize

albedo

oh? unmotivated you say.. self depricating thoughts? intrusive ones too?

albedo was never one to mope around when he was stuck on some problem he's yet to puzzle together, but seeing you exhausted, anxious and so... dull–he desperately wants to take all your worries away

he's a bit slow, failing to realize your depressive episode for a few days. as it prolongs, he notices how you seem to talk down to yourself and give up easily

sometimes, you don't even start work at all

this is due to your anxiety, he assumes as you think you're incapable of finishing or doing the work satisfactorily enough.

pulling you into an embrace from behind as you work on the projects you've been stuck on for the past few weeks, he gently whispers into your shoulder

"darling, have you been alright recently? are you in need of assistance?" he asks

he presses a loving kiss on your neck and you stifle a chuckle

"it's that apparent, no? i've been under the weather for quite a while now.."

as you explain your reasons and all your troubles to his end, he nods and hums ever so often

"you must be feeling drained, hm? well, frankly enough, i seem to need a break myself."

"eh? albedo where-!!”

he pulls you away from your working place and carries you to the couch, laying you down gently as he smiles at you

"aside from your unmotivated self, i reckon you need reassurance for those intrusive thoughts of yours."

and that, ladies, gentlemen and folks, is how you end up cuddling with albedo until the sun sets and you fall asleep

bask in the comfort of his words as he calls you his everything and more :')) <333

kaeya

my, oh my. what's gotten into his precious little love?

he's sharp, quite easily takes notice to your frantic and dim self.

he sees you sitting outside, head in your hands and sighs leaving your lips every now and then

unbeknownst to you, he creeps behind you and presses a careful peck on the nape of your neck, causing you to flinch and look back quickly

he was about to laugh at your cuteness, but as soon as he's reminded of your troubled state, he sits beside you and takes your face into his hands

sir we're in the plaza-

"oh archons, why is my sunshine so dim these days?" he pouts

rip u probably after this

"kaeya.. well, you see-"

and as you explain your current doubts and anxieties, he strokes your cheeks softly and looks into your eyes fondly

when you're finished, he nods and presses a light kiss on your forehead, a silent promise to accompany and help you on your endeavors to face your troubles

"i'll always be here for you, my love. if there's anything i can help you with, do not hesitate to come into my arms, hm?"

"noted, mr. suave"

jkjk o r a m i

he laughs and kisses you on the edge of your mouth

"what say you we head into the tavern for a bit? you could use some relaxation, right?"

as if you had a choice other than to say yes

childe

this man would know the second it started

having a bunch of siblings has its benefits huh

when he walks into your shared room and sees you on the edge, tears brimming your eyes he sits you down on your bed

"hey, hey.. i'm here, it's alright."

as you cry in his embrace, he rocks you gently, shushing you softly in an attempt to hinder your tears

"you can tell me if you're up for it, honey. i'm never too busy for you."

"i-it's just that-"

mhm. oh? why, how dare they treat you so harshly. really? why must you have to be burdened so heavily?

he acknowledges your struggles and worries with gentle strokes and brushing through your hair

"you have it really rough, don't you? ah well, nothing we can do but-"

"childe?"

he stands up and leaves the room for a second

he comes back with food, drinks, your favorite clothing of his, a scented candle you bought and some books you have yet to finish reading

the action warms your heart as you sniffle and smile at your lover

as soon as he lays down with you, prepare to never see daylight again as he won't let go for the longest, and i mean longest time ever

"i love you, y/n. you're strong and don't let anything, not even yourself, make you think otherwise."

zhongli

dearest, must life be so unfair to you? why you out of all people?

zhongli is wise–he knows something is bothering you when it does. that being said, he isn't sure whether or not he should approach you so directly

especially if it seems like a sensitive topic

instead, in your depressive state and anxious fiddling, he calls you over to him

he pulls you into his lap as he takes your face into his hand and kisses you tenderly

"my dear, has anything been bothering you? might i offer my hand in dealing with them?"

you'd think kaeya's mr. suave then this man pops up with his broke ass

"as a matter of fact.."

as you go on and state your dealings and troubles, he listens with an almost solemn look

he looks at you with utmost affection and concern when you finish

"the terrains of life have been steep and intimidating, you have been very commendable for braving through these, my dearest."

he places his lips onto your own and strokes the back of your head lovingly

for a reserved man, zhongli easily expresses his affection for you in multitudes of ways

his kisses being one of them

after parting your lips, he peppers your face with his kisses and you laugh quietly at his ministrations

"might i suggest a quick stroll to take your mind off things?"

you agree, thinking that once you head home, you'll be back to work with a clearer mind

little did you know mr. no money in his pockets got a liiiittle surprise for you as you won't be returning to your work any time soon :DDDD

by 'surprise' i mean he's taking you out to dinner

yall nasties

diluc

diluc is a busy man, dealing with a winery and all

along with his night profession (which he has only admitted to you and the traveling duo)

you did your best to hide your troubled self and aid him in his work, but you can only hold the facade for so long before it eats you up inside

when you break, he is slightly taken aback but is quick to comfort you

he sees you shaking and situates you on his couch as he sits beside you, rubbing your back as you curl into his figure

he's very warm

"sweetheart, would you mind telling me the problem?" he asks

he waits for an answer as you're still trying to find the words

"diluc, i'm sorry for bothering you.. i know you have plenty on your schedule and-”

"y/n, you're my top priority, no matter what. my work is nothing compared to what you mean to me."

and it's true, you're really his top priority

woohoo !! :DD

when you explain your anxieties and doubts to diluc, he's very understanding and listens to you earnestly

"-and that's why i've been so.. down, let's put it."

he strokes your face and presses his forehead to your own, looking you in the eye softly

he pulls you in tighter and closer, pressing kisses to your jawline and below your ear

"thank you for expressing your troubles with me, my love. i'm sorry for not noticing earlier."

"no need, love, you're very busy and i can't thank you enough for taking the time to understand me."

he pulls away for a second and shakes his head

"again, my work is nothing compared to you. i am willing to put aside all my responsibilities for a week in order to ensure your happiness."

uh wh a t

"ah," you laugh concerned, "sure–"

"which is what we're going to be doing this week." he smiles

welp. no turning back now

enjoy ur week with the redhead you utter s i m p

[pufflyhallows]

Getaway

Gif not mine

Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader

Summary: Business is going bad after the war and Fred is not feeling so great, so you decide to cheer him up with a special trip.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, language, tiny tiny bit of angst, still fluffy tho

a/n: this is my FIRST smut EVER so... be nice? also, Fred fucking LIVES bc I’m in denial forever lol

Word count: 4,3k

********

You wanted to surprise Fred.

He had been feeling down lately. Ever since he and George reopened the shop after the war, things had been a little tough. The movement was still quite slow, given the fact that people were still recovering from the war, mourning their lost ones and starting new lives. It was a difficult time for everyone, and of course it affected Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes as well.

What ached your heart the most was the fact that there wasn’t much you could do to help him. Every day you watched as he took longer to get out of bed in the morning, how he sounded slower and quieter when talking to you and, the worst part, how he acted quite mechanic when doing his chores around the shop, the same ones he enjoyed so much in the past and had always gotten done with a bright smile on his face. And although he never stopped caring for you or being loving to you, the bedroom had become… inactive. And you missed it. You missed being intimate with your boyfriend, but every time you tried to initiate it, he would softly decline, claiming to be too tired. You believed it. You could see he was indeed exhausted. And not only physically, but mentally too. Perhaps the latter was actually the one weighing more.

George, however, was quite the opposite. He kept his optimism high and was always the first to wake up every morning, excited with the new day and new possibilities. He would often go out and promote the shop, talk to people and sometimes even manage to bring a customer in.

This big difference between them worried you. No, you did not expect the twins to act the same, but you hoped in secret that Fred would follow his brother’s steps and cheer up a bit.

Cheer up. Yeah. That was exactly what he needed. And what better way to cheer up someone than a surprise trip? That’s how you were going to take his mind off of work. With Hermione’s help, you planned a very romantic weekend trip out of town. You talked to George beforehand, of course, but he assured you he could take care of the shop by himself for two days. He agreed Fred needed this.

“It’s not like we’re getting many customers anyway,” he had said.

So, as Friday approached, you felt the excitement building up. You managed to act completely nonchalant around him, making sure he didn’t suspect a thing. It wasn’t a big, expensive hotel because you knew he would worry about money and that was the opposite of what you wanted for this trip. Hermione had helped you pick a small, comfy hotel that was quite charming and fit your pocket perfectly. You wanted to make sure Fred felt loved, cared for and relaxed. There was also a little extra surprise inside your suitcase that you really hoped he would like…

What you didn’t know was that Fred felt guilty. He reckoned he hadn’t been the boyfriend you deserved lately, but he couldn’t help it. The stress was almost eating him alive and his mind was always wandering back to the shop, worrying about its future. You had been so kind and patient with him, he knew you deserved better than that. The whole thing was snowballing and sometimes he couldn’t see it ending.

That Friday, when you got home from work, the shop was still open and there was actually a customer inside, talking with George. You felt relief wash over you, because you knew what that meant: Fred was probably in a good mood.

You walked straight to the flat, not daring to interrupt George, but you stopped in the middle of the stairs to watch. He was speaking with such enthusiasm, showing and explaining his products to the young boy, that it filled you with pride. You caught his eyes for a brief moment and noticed the smallest of smirks appear on his lips. Smiling back, you nodded at him. Fred was nowhere to be seen, though, so you went upstairs.

There was a delicious scent coming from the kitchen. The older twin was there, cooking. You smiled to yourself at the sight. His favorite The Weird Sisters record was playing somewhere in the flat, adding a familiar, comfortable feel to the whole scene. Fred’s back was facing you while he chopped… carrots? on the counter. He didn’t seem to notice your presence just yet, so you took advantage of that. Placing your bag on the nearest chair, you walked in quiet steps towards your boyfriend. The fresh mint aroma coming from him meant he had probably just showered. Oh, and how you missed showering with him.

You couldn’t refrain your smile from growing even bigger once you noticed Fred’s body was swinging from side to side, so imperceptibly that you almost missed it. Carefully, you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek on his back. You felt him tense up for a mere second before realizing who it was. He soon relaxed, letting go of the knife and placing his clean hand on yours.

“Didn’t hear you coming in,” he stated, voice low and raspy.

You hummed in response and placed a soft kiss on the nape of his neck. Fred turned around and briefly met your lips with his.

“It’s gonna take a while. Why don’t you go take a bath?”

“I will,” you nodded, running your hand from his chest to his shoulder and squeezing it gently. “How was your day?”

He shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay”, you repeated. “Well, I hope I can make it better. I have a surprise for you after dinner.”

“A surprise?”

“Yes. I have an idea of how we can spend your days off.”

“Hm… Making plans already, are we?”

“Very good plans, yes. But you’ll have to wait until dinner.”

“Or you could tell me right now so I won’t have to.”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You smirked and gave him another peck on the lips before rushing off the kitchen and leaving your boyfriend to his curiosity and imagination.

The warm bath made you think about a lot of things and you came to realize you were very lucky. The war was over and there you were, taking a bath in your boyfriend’s flat, the person you loved the most in the world. So many people lost their loved ones, their homes, their entire lives in that war. You knew you had many reasons to feel happy and should not take them for granted. Life was good for you right now, and you acknowledged it, promising to yourself that you were going to enjoy it the best you could, with Fred by your side.

George joined the two of you for dinner, which turned out to be the best you had in months. Not because of the food, although it was perfect, but because it felt like everything was back to normal, like all the meals you had shared before the war. Maybe it was the idea of a day off and the mention of a surprise from you, but you could see that Fred was already less gloomy or aloof.

After the meal, as if sensing you wanted to reveal your plans to Fred, George excused himself to his bedroom, claiming he still had to finish some work. You wished him goodnight, not missing the discrete wink he gave you.

“So…” you started, watching as Fred emptied his glass of pumpkin juice. “Remember when I said I had an idea on how to spend your days off?”

“Oh, yes. The surprise.”

“Well… I figured you could use a little rest from everything, so I made a reservation at a very nice hotel for the two of us to spend the weekend at.”

“You what?” Fred asked, a small smile starting to grace his lips.

“The portkey is set for our departure at 10 a.m. tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Nope. No buts,” you shook your head. “I have already packed our bags.”

“Y/N, doll, I don’t know what to say.”

“Tell me I’m amazing, the best thing that ever happened to you, an angel sent from heaven…  Something humble like that.”

Fred chuckled, that contagious sound you missed hearing so much. “You’re amazing. You are the best thing that ever happened to me, a true angel sent from heaven.”

“I know! We’re gonna have so much fun,” you smiled excitedly, clasping your hands together.

“What exactly are your plans for us, though?” your boyfriend questioned, curiosity dripping from his lips.

“Oh, you’ll find out once we’re there.”

“The surprise doesn’t end here, I see.”

“Exactly. I have everything planned, baby.”

The look in Fred’s eyes seemed to indicate he had an idea of what you had planned, but he did not say a word about it. He would like to see the surprise reveal itself in the right moment. He wasn’t going to spoil your plans in any way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always had your doubts when it came to ads, but this time you had to admit this was spot on. The hotel looked exactly like its pictures and descriptions.

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley?” the receptionist asked as soon as you stepped in the lobby.

It was something so small, so simple, but it made your heart flutter and stomach fill with those restless butterflies. Mrs. Weasley. Were you ever going to become that? You wondered if Fred even noticed the little misunderstanding.

“Um,” you cleared your throat. “Actually, it’s just one Weasley. Fred Weasley. I’m Y/N Y/L/N.”

Your slight flustered manner didn’t go unnoticed by Fred. Despite the obvious nervousness, he thought it was rather cute. In fact, he liked to hear you be called that. Perhaps he should do something about it…

“Oh, I apologize. Mr. Weasley and Miss Y/L/N,” the receptionist corrected herself as she checked the reservation’s book. “You’re right on time, your room is ready for you. I just need your wands for ID confirmation before I give you your key.”

Both of you handed your wands to the young woman behind the desk and she did as she was supposed to. Sooner than you had anticipated, you were in the lovely suite you had reserved.

Fred placed the small handbag on the bed – blessed be the extension charm, that’s all you had to carry for that trip – and walked around the room curiously. You went straight for the big window and opened the curtains. There it was. The view you had seen on the ad and that had made you instantly choose this hotel.

“Fred,” you called softly, looking behind you. “Come see.”

Your boyfriend let go of the catalog on the nightstand and approached you, eyeing the outside in awe.

“Wow,” he breathed. “It’s beautiful.”

“Isn’t it?”

When making the reservation, you were met with the question: would you like a room with view to the street/village or to the beach? And you chose the beach, although the village was a lovely sight. Now, seeing Fred’s reaction, you were absolutely sure you had made the right choice.

The hotel was in a small village where both wizards and muggles lived. With a little help from magic, the wizards could go unnoticed and the muggles lived everyday life without a single clue of the existence of such peculiar neighbors. The beach was right behind the village, and your room being in the back of the hotel, you had a wonderful privileged view of nature’s beauty.

“Wanna go down there?” you asked.

“What’s in your plans?” he asked back, switching his gaze from the window to you.

“Beach,” you replied with a small smile. “Basically the entire day at the beach, lunch at a muggle restaurant down there too. But dinner here.”

“I’ll follow your script, doll.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer, pressing his lips ever so gently on yours. You instantly let go of the curtains so you could run your fingers through his soft hair. The light fabric fell back to its place, covering the windows again and leaving the room a little darker than before. Fred’s gentle kiss wasn’t so gentle anymore.

No, not yet.

You broke the kiss and pulled back, biting your lip as you started to feel that you might not be able to wait until the right time for your surprise.

“I’m starving,” you whispered against his lips.

“Me too,” he pulled you closer again.

“Let’s go, then.” You managed to get out of his embrace and grab the handbag before heading to the bathroom to change into your bathing suit.

A hungry Fred was left standing by the big window.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been hard.

It had been hard seeing you in so little clothing, dripping wet, skin glistening as droplets of water reflected the sunlight. But Fred managed.

All he had in his mind every time he saw you leaving the water was how he wanted to take you then and there. He had to distract himself from those thoughts, paying attention to what you were saying but not too much to your moving lips. He knew you had something planned and he was appreciative of how much effort you had put in this weekend for him. That was the only reason he wasn’t indulging to his not-so-pure thoughts.

Lunch was a good distraction too, specially since you had to convince a muggle child she had imagined it when she saw Fred stop his falling fork mid-air.

Now, as the two of you walked hand in hand back to the hotel, he wondered if he was going to be rewarded for the self-control test he had just passed. You were humming a song as you observed the houses, trying to guess which ones were muggles and which ones were wizards.

“What’s next?” he asked.

“Dinner!” you answered excitedly. “But, if I were you, I wouldn’t go overboard.”

“Why, if I may ask?” but Fred already suspected why.

“Well… there might be plans for after dinner as well.”

Fred held your hand tighter and pulled you towards the hotel in a faster pace. You chuckled, feeling the excitement grow bigger and bigger.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Dessert?” the waiter asked as he took the empty plates from your table.

“No, thank you,” Fred replied before you had the chance. “We’re calling it a night, aren’t we, sweetheart?”

“Actually,” you smirked at your boyfriend before looking at the waiter. “I’d like chocolate pudding, please.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As soon as the waiter left, Fred gave you a look.

“What?” you asked nonchalantly.

“I thought you said we wouldn’t go overboard.”

“I’m not going overboard. I had a small plate,” you shrugged.

“Right,” Fred sighed, bouncing his leg under the table.

When your chocolate pudding came, you grabbed the spoon and took a small amount to your mouth. Fred watched your every move, arms crossed and brows slightly furrowed as he saw you slowly lick the spoon. You pretended you didn’t know he was watching, eyes on the tiny bowl in front of you, and you mouthed another spoon, unintentionally getting pudding all over your lips.

Your boyfriend gulped as he watched you run your thumb over your lower lip, getting rid of the chocolate there, and gently suck on it.

“For fuck’s sake, Y/N,” he mumbled.

“Hm?” you looked at him innocently.

“Just eat the damn thing.”

“You want some?” you raised the spoon at him.

“Yes, I want some.”

You felt your cheeks burn just a little bit with his remark, heart begin to race as the ideas for what you wanted to do to him tonight started to flood your mind.

“If you wait patiently, you might get what you want,” you teased, looking back at the bowl and already serving another spoon, which you quickly brought to your lips, licking all the content off of it.

Fred shook his head, one corner of his lips going upwards ever so slightly, eyes glued on you.

“You sure you don’t want to taste it?” you offered again, lips glistening as you cleaned them with your tongue.

“I will taste it,” his eyes pierced through your body and suddenly the hotel was too hot.

You had barely served the last spoon of pudding when Fred stood up and let the waiter know you were headed to the room.

“I haven’t finished yet,” you protested and he immediately took the last spoon from your hand and into his mouth.

“Now you have,” he said as he pulled you from the chair.

The way back to the suite felt much longer than it actually was, but as soon as you reached the door, Fred’s lips were on yours. You had trouble to get the key with your boyfriend’s hands all over you, pulling your body hard against his.

“Fred,” you breathed, stepping back. “There’s another surprise.”

Before he could say anything, you unlocked the door and went inside.

“Sit down,” you slowly pushed him to the bed. “And close your eyes.”

Fred complied with no protests, but you could see he was getting flustered, probably guessing what was coming.

You blew out most of the candles illuminating the room and left only a few to create the romantic atmosphere you wanted. You went to the bathroom and changed into the expensive lacy lingerie you had bought for this exact occasion. It was red, a color you had learned Fred was very fond of when it came to this kind of clothing, and had one small, delicate bow right between your breasts.

“Are your eyes closed?” you asked from the bathroom, hand on the doorknob.

“Yeah,” you heard in response.

“No peeking ‘til I tell you to,” you warned.

“…‘kay.”

You opened the door and stepped out of the bathroom. Fred was still sitting on the bed, one leg bouncing impatiently, and a slight frown between his eyebrows.

Slowly, you approached the bed and stood right in front of him.

“Open your eyes,” you whispered.

As soon as he did, Fred sucked in a shaky, quiet breath. He eyed you from head to toe, not hiding his astonishment.

“Baby,” he mumbled in a deep voice, already feeling his pants get a little too tight as his eyes still traveled through your entire figure.

“Do you like it?” you asked.

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded, biting his bottom lip.

“Good,” you smiled, placing your hands on each of his shoulders. “Now let me show you how proud I am to be your girlfriend.”

Your lips met Fred’s in a slow, deep kiss as you climbed the bed and straddled him, your arms thrown around his neck. Fred let out a soft moan when he felt your weight against his lap, his hands going up your back, fingertips sending shivers down your spine as they searched for the bra clasp. However, you stopped them and placed them back on your hips.

“Not so fast,” you whispered against his lips.

Before he could protest, you kissed him again, now pushing him all the way back to lay down on the bed. Hovering above him, you started pulling up his shirt, which he quickly got rid of for you. You chuckled. Maybe you weren’t the only one who had missed this.

Now that you had free access to his torso, you began to place soft, wet kisses on his neck, slowly moving down to his chest and stomach, painfully taking your time.

You could feel Fred’s breathing get deeper and deeper as you kissed his abs, working your way down to his pants. Once there, you stopped the kisses for a brief moment, so you could focus on getting rid of that piece of fabric. Again, Fred quickly helped you out until you were both just in your underwear.

The sight sent goosebumps through your body and you inevitably bit your lower lip. He was already so hard, you felt the anticipation building up inside you.

You decided to torture him for a little bit – just a little bit – and carried on with the kisses, not taking off his underwear quite yet. However, Fred’s impatience was growing and he didn’t think he would manage to wait for too long. His hand found your hair and he started stroking it, running his fingers through it, a disguised way to guide your head to where he needed you the most. You realized his intentions, but you did not stop him. You let him take you where he wanted and soon your lips found his still covered length.

“Shit, Y/N.”

You smirked.

Slowly, you started pulling down the last piece of clothing until you completely freed him. He was so beautiful. You still had a silly smile on your face as you ran your tongue all the way up from the base to the tip, where you placed a gentle kiss. Fred’s soft moan reached your ears, a beautiful sound that made you even more wet.

You took him in your mouth and started sucking the tip in a slow, teasing pace, while your hand loosely stroked him. You didn’t want him to cum yet. You wanted him to last. And you were going to make him last.

Fred’s hand never left your hair, and he began to slightly pull it, asking for more. He needed more.

“Y/N,” he moaned. “Y/N, please.”

You ignored him and kept going in that insanely slow pace, taking your time. What was the hurry?

You heard a low groan, and felt him move his hips against you. You stopped.

“Behave yourself, Weasley.”

“Baby… Please.”

You smirked again, giving him one last stroke, and you let go of him.

Fred looked at you in a way you hadn’t seen in a while. His eyes were dark, full of pure lust. But also desperation and discontent with the sudden lack of touch.

You crawled on the bed until your face was right above his, and you kissed him. It was a deep, passionate, hurried kiss between two people who were eager for each other. This time, you didn’t stop Fred’s hands from going up your back and unclasping your bra. He took it off and you quickly felt his left hand on your right breast, squeezing it. His right hand, however, was going up and down your side, sending shivers through your bare skin. He rested it on your waist for a little bit before going down to your ass and squeezing it tightly. You moaned against his lips, your own impatience growing.

You only stopped the kiss to get rid of your panties, the last piece of fabric separating you from him.

Fred watched as you got off of him and started to pull it down your smooth legs. He could feel his cock throbbing at the sight of your completely naked body. You were breathtakingly, heart-racingly beautiful. He loved the lingerie, he really did, but he loved your body a thousand times more. And he would never get tired of looking at it.

When you straddled him again, skin to skin now, he thought he would cum right then and there. You smiled at him, that beautiful smile that never changed, and kissed him one more time. Fred placed his hands on your waist, squeezing it gently, as if to encourage you. Not wasting another second, you guided his tip to your entrance and slowly sank down on him, allowing him to get all the way inside you, quite easily given how wet you were.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he moaned.

Letting out your own whimpers, you placed your hands on his chest and started riding him, still slowly, still teasingly. Fred’s moans soon turned into groans, complaints. He was getting tired of the teasing, he was already on edge. He couldn’t take it anymore. With a swift move, Fred shifted the both of you so now he was on top. He started thrusting into you, quite roughly, earning a loud approving moan from you.

“Fred,” you gasped, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He kept going, pounding harder and harder, moaning as he did so.

You started kissing his neck, biting, sucking, anything that would leave a mark.

“Yes, baby,” you cried out as he thrusted even deeper.

The bed was making a discreet creaking sound that you weren’t sure if the people in the other rooms could hear. You hoped not, but honestly? Right now you didn’t care. The sound of Fred’s heavy breaths, moans, groans and whimpers were all you were paying attention to. Beautiful sounds that had the power to shut down anything else in your mind.

The rhythm he had created was sending you to heaven with every motion. His lips soon found your own again and he kissed you as if he hadn’t done it just minutes before.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m close.”

“Me too.”

As you felt your body tense, Fred came inside you with a low groan, slowing down just a tad bit. He kept thrusting, however, knowing you were about to reach your climax too. And not long after him, you felt a wave of pleasure wash over you, and your body relaxed completely.

Both of you were panting against each other’s neck, your arms still loosely around his shoulders as he slowly pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

Hugging him more tightly, you felt Fred leave small kisses on your neck, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the extra-tingly sensation. You started to run your fingernails up and down his back, the other hand caressing his hair.

If you concentrated hard enough, you could hear the waves crashing on the beach, the giggling of children playing down there, and the muffled music coming from the muggle restaurant. You felt so at ease.

After a long moment of peaceful, comforting silence, Fred looked up and smiled. “I love you so much.”

You smiled back. “I love you too.”

Not bad for round one.

********

[its-deputy-caleb]

haiiiiiiiiiiiiii can we get a john x fem reader wherein the reader is the doctor and a friend of the macfarlanes and they patch him up after getting shot by bill LOL (rdr1!! i’m not sure if you’ve played that but if you havent it’s ok to ignore this tysm :3)

WOAHH this is long overdue but I haven’t played the first (don’t kill me) so I decided to watch a 10hr play through— I’m yet to finish it cause its long and I’m watching it in short segments but I think I could tackle this. I really hope this doesn’t flop bc idk what I’m doing lmao.

-----------------------------------

It’s just a regular afternoon when Bonnie returns back to the ranch, you’re cleaning some of the medical cabinets, making lists of what needs to be topped up when you next take a trip to town or the Ranch’s general store. It’s light work for an easy afternoon but that all change pretty quickly when Bonnie came storming through the door, asking you for help on a man who’d been shot and needed urgent medical attention.

The list of medicines is dropped to the floor as she shows you to one of the units where he was currently laid out in the bed. You sat down, clearing his shirt and jacket to stop the bleeding and clean the wound. You were well focused on your work, stitching up the wound with practiced ease and addressing his other minor injuries like the small cut to the back of his head from hitting the ground and the bruising to his ribs from the bullet wound. Unbeknown to you, Bonnie has taken a stand behind your shoulder to watch you work.

“Damn fool thought he could take out Bill Williamson.”

“Bill Williamson?”

You could only stare down in surprise at the unconscious man before you. A man like Bill Williamson was not to be reckoned with, especially in a shootout if the evidence before you is anything to go by.

It took a few more hours of care but Bonnie stayed with you to make light of the situation and keep you company, only coming and going to bring back any supplies you needed. Once you’d properly bandaged his abdomen you stood from the shabby wooden stool you were sitting on and dusted your hands. You collected your tools into your bag and placed a soft hand to Bonnie’s shoulder.

“He should be fine now. He’s going to need lots of rest while his wound heals and he’ll probably be disoriented and dehydrated when he wakes but nothing more, you’ll find me if his condition worsens?”

Bonnie gave you a short nod in agreement, happy to stay with him for a few hours while you went and got some rest.

-

John woke with a splitting headache and a burning pain in his side. The events of the last few days coming back to him. He didn’t get time to think about it much however, when a golden haired woman came through the door, instantly giving him a light hearted lecture about chasing after Bill Williamson and getting shot at.

“Well while you may have done something stupid— we got to you in time and the Doc fixed you up real fine, got the bullets removed a few days ago. You’re a lucky man Mr…err?”

John made his way to the edge of the bed, sitting up and groaning at the pain that is usual for a bullet wound.

“Mr. Marston— John Marston and I suppose I should be thankin’ him for fixing me up.”

The woman leaned against the handle of the door, watching him shuffle on his feet awkwardly as she smirked at him.

“Bonnie MacFarlane. Miss, Bonnie MacFarlane and I hope you do thank her. She did a real fine job of takin’ care of you. She spends her mornings up on the hill by one of the large oak trees by the paddock, I suggest you pay her a visit before you start working off your medical bills.”

And with that, John picked up his hat from the wooden table that Bonnie had saved for him and started making his way over to you.

-

You were standing over by one of the smaller sheep paddocks off to the side of the MacFarlane Ranch and took in a deep breath, basking in the morning sun and leaning your elbows against the fence. You usually took the mornings to yourself, having half an hour to wake up slowly and enjoy yourself before you tented to a range of injuries and illnesses. Having been longtime friends to Bonnie and her father, your family had always been respected at the ranch and that came with certain privileges such as time off work in the morning.

Your peaceful moment was distributed, but not unpleasantly as you noticed the man who Bonnie bought in yesterday walking towards you. When he reached a certain distance his hat came off and held it in his hands, flattening his stringy hair as he addressed you.

“Pardon me ma’am, I didn’t mean to disturb you. Miss MacFarlane said you were the one needed thanking for taking care o’ me— so thank you.”

You noticed how he fiddled with the brim of his hat in his hands, trying not to look what you’d guess was embarrassed.

After you two introduced each other and you accepted John’s thanks, you offered for him to come and stand beside you by the fence.

“So who does a man have to be to go after an outlaw and bandit such as Bill Williamson?”

Your question was supposed to be lighthearted and fun, ready to tease him just as Bonnie had done for waltzing into Fort Mercer alone. You didn’t expect for John to answer you honestly

“An old friend…”

You stared at him in shock but he didn’t seem to notice as he stared out into the paddock of grazing sheep.

“Wait you know Bill Williamson?”

He could only nod for a moment, giving you a polite but almost sad smile at what seemed like a painful memory.

“Yes ma’am. There was a time when Bill and I weren’t so different.”

-

You actually spent a lot longer than you’d anticipated talking to John. For some reason unknown to you, John seemed to open up a fair bit. Maybe it all came down to the fact that you were approachable and kind, a quality you needed as the ranches doctor. Nevertheless he spent hours telling you about some of his time with the old ‘Van Der Linde Gang’. John spoke of train robberies and homesteads, what it was like to steal from folk and live wildly. He even mentioned gang rivalries and the epic tale of surviving a wolf attack.

He told you of some of the best times and even the worst but all of them were distance memories and he seemed quick to change the topic about why exactly he wanted to ‘reunite’ with Bill.

“What about you, Miss? How’d you end up here? Don’t see many female doctors around— w-with no offence intended ma’am.”

You let out a small laugh, hearing his curiosity turn to something desperate as he realised he may have been offensive. You kept your weight on one elbow, facing towards him and smiled.

“Well my daddy is the head doctor but he’s now semi retired. He’s a good man but he wasn’t always a doctor. A long time ago, when I was just a little girl our family were ranch handlers just like Bonnie’s family, but well… one season all the cattle got sick and were dying so my father moved to medicine. The MacFarlane’s are old friends and we’ve been with them ever since.”

John hummed, turning his gaze from you to stare at the vast Ranch that was almost a village in his eyes.

“Seem like good people— real decent folk.”

You nodded in response, growing up on this ranch became your home and you loved the MacFarlane’s very deeply.

“Indeed they are Mr.Marston, decent folk are hard to come by these days.”

Your pleasant conversation with John was suddenly interrupted by Bonnie who whistled down by the stables, clearly signalling for John to come and assist her with chores around the ranch. You could only hope that meant seeing more of John.

“It seems Miss MacFarlane will be needing my help. Thank you again ma’am, you saved my life.”

You didn’t get to say much as John took your hand in his, brining it to his mouth in a polite kiss to your knuckle before walking down the hill. He didn’t get far before you stopped him one last time.

“Oh Mr. Marston! I need to ride into town tomorrow to restock on medicines that they don’t stock at the general store. Would you be so kind as to accompany me?”

You eyes were full of hope and joy as he nodded and gave you a warm smile.

“It’s John, and I could think of nothing better than to help you ma’am”

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto your face as you watched John load his horse and ride of with Bonnie and a few others to work at various places around the ranch. You couldn’t stop the fluttery feeling in your stomach either at the anticipation and excitement of getting to see the mysterious but intriguing man John Marston.

(I will do a part 2 since i need more time to get a feel for rdr1!!)

[mcyt-imagines]

halu ^_^ i randomly stumbled across your blog at like 3 am and i couldn't stop reading all of your posts ;-; honestly they're so hecking good !!! tysm for giving us these hq fics <33 anywayy, can i request for another tommy or tubbo fic wherein reader is like this badass chick and everyone is intimated by them but then get soft when it comes to tommy or tubbo :00 you can use any pronouns !! also feel free to make it platonic or romantic :>> thank you <3333

I’ve decided to put both Tommy and Tubbo in bc they’re really a one package deal. Also this can be read as either platonic or romantic I tried to leave it ambiguous for you guys! And it’s set in the DreamSMP universe bc both Tommy and Tubbo need protecting on that damn server. And thank you so much for the kind words! I hope you enjoy it :)

At Face Value

“Tubbo come with me and see the egg, it’s so big now! I’m sure you’d love to see it.” Bad’s bright eyes blink widely at the young boy, “Uh, I don’t know Bad. I’m kinda busy working on rebuilding my bee farm, maybe later?” He tries to excuse himself from the conversation but Bad merely follows him, continuing to try and convince the brunette. Tubbo stumbles with the wooden planks as Bad explains how The Egg works, “If you join our Eggpire, the egg will grant you any wish you desire! Surely you have goals you wish to meet Tubbo? Perhaps to bring L’manberg back to its former glory? The Egg can do that!” Tubbo grounds himself but Bad notices too quickly, Tubbo is considering his offer.

Bad picks up his tone advancing so that Tubbo back up until his back hits the wall of his bee farm, the boy cowering. “Tubbo, you know how important the egg is-“ Tommy suddenly exits from the remnants of the bee farm head in the clouds, oblivious for a few moments until he spots Bad and Tubbo. “Hey! You’re not supposed to be anywhere near us Bad.” Tommy bounds over with unbridled energy, eyes wandering the expanse of land around them searching for Sam. He stands a little in front of Tubbo, trying to shield him from Bad in case things got violent. Which knowing this guy and his Eggpire bullshit, it was likely to.

Bad laughs cruelly in Tommy’s face, moving closer to pinch one of his cheeks with a clawed hand. “Oh, you poor sweet thing. You don’t intimidate me or scare me, and-” Bad cackles only to be cut off as an arrow pierces the ground between them. 

“But I do.” Your voice echoes off the walls of the ruined bee farm, your silhouette cast in the afternoon shadow tightly clutching your bow. Bad’s expression sours immediately, “I told you to leave us alone Bad.” You glare as you advance towards them, jumping down from the structure your lips upturned in a snarl.

You confidently place yourself between the two boys and Bad, the tall demon across from you only sighs deeply. “I’m disappointed in you. I thought you would understand what the Eggpire is trying to do. The Egg could make sure the three of you would always be safe if that’s what you wish.” He pauses for a few moments, “However, if you refuse my request who knows what kind of danger you could fall into!” 

A gleeful smile crosses his face, his tail flicking out from behind his back. “Are you threatening us?” Your scowl deepens with each word, “Of course not!” He defends voice dripping with sarcasm, “I am going to take such joy in setting that weed alight.” You finally growl chest puffed futilely as if you could size up this 9ft demon. His demeanour shifts almost immediately, his posture straightening as he reaches his full height. Towering over the three of you, refusing to look weak you all stand your ground.

“Do not threaten The Egg again, or I will have to start taking some pages out of Dream’s book of tricks.” Bad snarls lowly, jagged teeth barred at you in particular. But his words sting Tubbo and Tommy the deepest, their gazes drop. No one speaks to them like that. “Yeah, taking notes from a guy who is going to spend the rest of his life rotting in jail. Sounds like a great plan to me, dumbass.” Tommy speaks before you can even open your mouth, you hope your expression conveys your barely contained fury, eyes glaring holes through the pitch-black skin of his face. 

Bad’s grin widens sickeningly, the ends reaching too far along his cheeks to appear normal. “Watch your tongue before you lose it. The Egg enjoys such a muscle, finds it a delicacy actually.” Bad’s arm moves quicker than you can swing your blade, his hand clutching Tommy’s face roughly.

You raise your blade high to slash it down on the demon’s arm when a trident beats you to it. Bad lets out a cry of pain as the trident is recalled back to its owner, and out of his arm. “Sam!” Tubbo cries, the young man stands triumphantly just over the hill. “Care to pick on someone your own size Bad?” His voice booms, advancing steadily towards you all as Bad stumbles back clutching his punctured arm. He growls in the back of his throat, “I’ll be back!” And he pearls away, like a coward.

Sam eventually reaches the three of you and he implores you all to recount what happened with Bad before he had arrived. Afterwards, Sam decides to cut his visit short to keep an eye on Bad and make sure he doesn’t come back with any backup. You all bid him a thankful farewell before moving into Tubbo’s nearby house and starting a blistering fire. You all sit around it, trying to warm up as conversation flows comfortably between the three of you.

“You were really cool out there y’know.” Tommy suddenly pipes up, “I wish I was that brave.” Tubbo adds with admiration. Your cheeks flush a light pink, “I-It was nothing, really! That Bad guy is all bark and no bite.” You stammer before chuckling awkwardly, sweat gathering in your palms as the two boys watch you with amusement. “How can you be so cool with Sam, and then act like this with us?” Tubbo muses smirk evident on Tommy’s face. “I, uh, I don’t know!” You gesture wildly with your hands, trying to distract yourself and the two ahead of you with anything. “I reckon it’s cause they’ve got a soft spot for us.” Tommy teases, tone light and airy as he eyes you. “Ohhhhh.” Tubbo nods affirmatively, “I see, that makes a lot of sense.”

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence, Tommy and Tubbo look at each other for a few seconds, then look back and you, then back at each other.  Their smiles widen and your stomach sinks. The two pounce on you, arms wrapping tightly around you in suffocating hugs from both sides. “Hey!” You cry as you topple over, the two following you helplessly as they too lose balance. The three of you end up in a pile of tangled limbs, laughter roaring along with the bright fire across from you.

“Seriously though, without you, Tommy and I would’ve been goners.” Tubbo admits from your side, smile bright on his cute face. “I would’ve been fine! But I didn’t mind the backup.” Tommy blurts blush bright on his cheeks, you find yourself giggling in response. “I’m happy to be back up anytime the two of you need it. I don’t plan on going anywhere.” You grin at the two, “Good! Because we weren’t gonna even give you the choice.” 

Tommy smirks, “He’s right. You’re stuck with us for good.” Tubbo nods solemnly, “Oh, how tragic!” You gasp dramatically hand meeting your forehead as you pretend to swoon. The two only burst into laughter at your reaction, “Hey we aren’t that bad!!” The two cry from your sides as finally, you join the two in their laughter. Grins bright on all of your faces as the fire continues to roar and lick at the logs adjacent to your still intertwined legs.

~Requests are always open!~

[vibraniumwing]

be with me, always.

a george weasley x reader blurb wherein after an exhausting day at work, george offers the reader to rest and when they wake up, the ginger asks a very simple question.

 WARNING: none !!! 

A/N: akdjfkjf these blurbs are making me so soft !! thank you so much for requesting @accioxreparo​ !! i hope you like this, i absolutely loved writing this !! again, this is for my 100-follower celebration !! honestly is this still a blurb bcs i was carried away once again

request: “Would I be able to do 🥳 with George with the phrase “Why don’t you stay the night?””

---

Being best friends with an aspiring owner of a joke shop had its pros and cons, but who would even have a con if your bestfriend was George Weasley? 1/2 of the Weasley Twins. 

Over the course of their last year at Hogwarts, you’ve always helped the twins with ideas, being their first customer to almost all the products they have before actually selling it out to the public. With that being said of course, you helped along with the building of their shop after leaving Hogwarts.

With you being a graduate, it meant that you can focus on doing whatever you please; which of course meant you could help the twins full-time now. 

---

You entered the shop that was half-way done, your eyes scanning through the boxes that was scattered on the floor as the sun shone through the windows of the shop. The aroma of fresh paint intruding your nose almost immediately as you walked further into the shop.

“You’re quite early, (Y/N). Missed me already?” Fred’s voice resonating through the shop as he went down the stairs. You looked up to see the ginger lean by the railing, a knowing smirk plastered on his lips. 

Scoffing lightly, you playfully flipped him off as you settled your bag down by one of the shelves, “Sorry Freddie but you know I want the other Weasley.” you joked half-heartedly, laughing softly. He gave you a somewhat sad gaze as he picked up one of the boxes laid out on the floor. 

“You should really consider telling him how you feel, (Y/N).”

“And ruin our friendship? No thanks, Fred.”

And that’s what you’ve been struggling with since the day you’ve realized that you’ve harboured feelings for the ginger, the fear of you losing him because of how you feel holding you down from telling him how you really feel.

---

Months have passed since the grand opening of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes and you couldn’t have been more proud of what the twins have achieved in such a short span. 

The products they’ve made hitting it off almost immediately with kids who were just about to go back to Hogwarts and to wizards and witches who just want a good laugh despite of the dark times rising. 

Exhausted from handling rowdy children all day, you gently flicked your wand and the misplaced toys, candies and other products started to rearrange themselves as you lazily grabbed the broom from the back and started to sweep the floor. As much as you love interacting with the customers, it drains you immensely at the end of the day.

“Hey (Y/N)” George’s voice greeted you, emerging from his and Fred’s shared office. Your eyes meet him and widen at the sight; him clad in just his button up and waist coat with his sleeves rolled up. “H-hey, George, how you doing?”

“Doing alright, yeah. You on the other hand, seem really miserable. What’s up with you?” He asks, crossing his arms as he raised an eyebrow at you. 

You leaned against one of the shelves and sighed softly, “I’m just exhausted, talking to children all day is an absolute way to get you to sleep earlier because it drains the light out of you.” He laughed gently and walked towards you, grabbing the broom from your arms.

“I reckon you need a second to rest. How about you go up to our apartment and rest in my room for a bit, yeah? I’ll wake you up as soon as I’m done here.” He said, patting your hair gently, the gentle action causing heat to flare up your cheeks. “You know better than to argue with me and say no on this one, love. Go on, go get your beauty rest.” He nudged you gently.

Having no energy to argue with him, you decided to just opted to nod and trudge up the stairs and into their apartment. Upon entering his room, you just flopped down on the bed and passed out, cuddling the pillows that bear his cinnamon-like scent.

---

You stir lightly and noticed that you weren’t in your room- nor that you weren’t even in your work clothes anymore. Sitting up straight, you looked at the clock next to George’s bedside and see that it was almost midnight. “Shit, I overslept.” 

Standing up, you noticed that you were clad in George’s old quidditch sweater, making you blush. 

You made your way out of the room and see George sleeping on their couch, huddled up with a rather tattered blanket. The sight hitting you with guilt, did he really sleep out here so he won’t disturb me? 

You approached his sleeping figure quietly and sat down in front of him, hair patting his hair gently as you whispered, “George, Georgie wake up. You can go back into your room now, I’ll apparate back into my apartment.” As you stood up to leave, someone held unto your wrist, causing you to look down and see him look up at you with a rather somber gaze.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” George asked, his voice quite raspy from waking up. You stood there in surprise, did he really just ask you to stay the night instead? “It’s almost midnight, love. You could get hurt out there.”

“How about you though? Isn’t the couch uncomfy? Let me sleep here instead then.” You answered, realizing that going home this late is indeed a bit dangerous considering the fact that you lived with a muggle flatmate. 

“We can always share the bed, you know. Why? Afraid of not keeping your hands off of me?” He teased, a lazy grin on his lips as he pulled you in, instantly cradling you in his arms. “Besides, mum would kill me if she found out that I let you sleep on the couch.” He continued, laughing softly at the thought.

The close proximity that the two of you are in made your breath hitch, stunned beyond words that he’s openly affectionate with you like this. You turned to face him, eyes looking over his features, intaking how beautiful his freckles were under the moonlight that seeped through the curtains, how warm his breath his against your face.

The next thing you knew, your lips was on his. You immediately backed away and covered your lips, eyes as wide as his at the sudden action, “George! I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-” and you were cut off once again, with his lips now on yours. 

Your eyes were still wide, George, your long time crush was actually kissing you and you didn’t even know how to react. He pulled away and hugged you even tighter. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that, (Y/N).” He whispered, face hidden on the crook of your neck.

“The feeling’s mutual, Georgie.” You mumbled back, still in disbelief that the two of you just kissed. 

“Move in with me, love.” He suddenly said, looking up at you with a serious look. Your head whipped to his direction, face confused as ever. “Excuse me, what now?”

“Move in with me, love! So that you don’t have to travel too far after you work here! This is brilliant!” His voice was now dripping with excitement at his proposal. “Alright, I’ll move in then.” You answered quietly, your lips mirroring the smile on his face.

“You’ll move here right away, I’ll help you! Fred wouldn’t mind at the very least-” “Is there a real reason why you want me to move here though, Weasley?” you asked him teasingly, raising an eyebrow as you cut him off. 

Now this caught the ginger off guard, his cheeks now flushed pink. “Well, I just want you to be with me, (Y/N). Be with me, always.”

You laughed softly at his answer, your hands cupping his cheeks as you rested your forehead against his. “You know that I love you, right?”

“Of course I do, I love you too.”

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part II/VII)

"candy floss"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, feels, brief mention of Fred x Reader ig?

A/N: I decided to name the parts bc why the fuck not so keep an eye on the titles 👀. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue :the aftermath

Part I : sleepless nights

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The moment the last group of customers decided it was time to call it a day and exited the shop, I left the till counter and grabbed my wand from my pocket, instantly turning the sign in the door so it could be read from outside 'closed'.

A sigh escaped my lips as I leaned against the multicolored wooden rail.

I was drained.

The shop helped our minds to get distracted and stray from the grief, yes, but it was also exhausting.

We had been subconsciously overworking ourselves to the point where it was borderline self-destructive.

It didn't help that I was throwing myself into comforting George, either. I could not be blamed for doing that, though; he was broken.

A part of me, the rational one, knew he would pick up the pieces and build himself up again, it would just take a lot of time.

There was another part of me, though, that depressed, drained part, that was beginning to think he would never heal by himself —maybe he wouldn't heal at all— but still held onto the hope that, if I tried hard enough, I would be able to mend what had been broken in him.

A terrible idea, really, because I started to dismiss in its entirety my own miserable, damaged state.

And George, ever the caring, sensible one, would have noticed that; he would have made me realize I was not doing nearly as well as I thought, he would have talked some sense into me, but he wouldn't— he couldn't, because George was lost in an ocean of grief, trying so hard not to drown that he wasn't able to notice I was trying to aid him from my very own sinking boat.

It also seemed to be working; he was more animated, slept more soundly, and his smile was a bit brighter even —at least the one he had for me.

"Rough day?" My eyes, which I didn't know I had closed, fluttered open at George's voice.

"Very."

He walked to me with a tinge of guilt in his face. "You know we can switch places, right?" I had been working as the public face of the shop since we had reopened, and George had taken on the task of doing the paperwork and shippings instead, showing up from time to time to help me and to let people know there was still a Weasley running the business.

I had been the one to suggest this, since I knew George had compromised with reopening only because of me, and he was clearly not ready to put up a sociable, positive attitude for dozens of people every day.

"Nah, it's fine like this." I assured him with a reassuring smile.

He measured me with his eyes for a second; I couldn't really tell if he saw through me or not. "So I was preparing the today's shippings," he rocked a tiny purple basket I quickly recognised in front of me. "I found this in the back of the stockroom."

"Are those—?"

"Candy floss cupcakes, yes." A year and a half ago we had bought five baskets of candy floss cupcakes from Honeydukes per George's request in order to unsuccessfully try and implement them.

"Are they even edible anymore?" I couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope so?" He chuckled too, tearing the film covering the sweets. "Thought we might as well finish them."

My eyes travelled from the basket to him and viceversa before stating, "well I'm hungry so..."

"Same here." He was the first one to pull out a pastel colored cupcake, though he handed it to me. "Wanna get food poisoning together?" Laughing, I gave him a nod as he grabbed his own cupcake. "At the count of three?"

"One"

"Two"

"Three." We said in unison right before taking a bite of our respective madeleines.

I frowned at its surprisingly good flavour. "Am I delirious or are they actually edible?"

"Dunno," he shoved the rest of his cupcake into his mouth with a shrug. "maybe we're just starving."

"Go big or go home, I guess." I finished my cupcake before leaning on the basket to pick another one. My head snapped up with my brow quirked when I heard a soft chuckle. "What?"

"Nothing." George shook his head, motioning at the stairs. "Shall we sit down?" I followed his lead, sitting on the stairs and waiting for him, who had stepped towards the drinks aisle to grab a couple of juice bottles, to do the same.

We stayed there, eating and drinking in a comfortable silence until the basket was empty and our eyelids threatened to shut.

"I think we should head back to the flat." He spoke, leaving the half empty juice aside so he could stretch.

"I'm gonna learn how to cook." I stated, getting up. "We can't get by based on most likely expired sweets and whatever is in the Leaky Cauldron menu."

"Aight." He mimicked my actions, picking up the stuff we left on the stairs. "We will learn the basics tomorrow." He got behind me and began to gently push in the flat's direction. "But now we're gonna get some sleep, miss."

I would be lying if I said my heartbeat didn't pick up when his hands landed on my shoulder blades and made their way to rub both my arms reassuringly.

I would be lying if I denied I leaned back when he did that, letting myself get closer to his chest.

And I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't crave going back to my room so I could cuddle him all night.

One Week Later

"—right in the cauldron, love." I pointed at the cauldron besides me, giving a sweet smile to the kid in front of me, visibly going to be sick thanks to the free sample of Skiving Snackboxes.

"Y/n!" I spun around at the loud calling of my name above the shop's racket. I was able to discern a long, red mane flowing fast towards my position right on time for the owner to wrap her arms around me.

"Glad to see you too, Ginny." I laughed, trying not to lose balance due to her enthusiasm. "How come you're here?" I questioned, pulling away.

"We heard you were open." Harry walked up to me, appearing from behind the girl, "And thought we'd pay a visit to our friends, right?" Ginny nodded, looking around while Harry gave me a quick, yet comforting hug. "Where's George?"

I motioned up to the small office, redirecting the couple's eyes to the second floor. "Doing paperwork—AH!" I jolted when a pair of hands tickled my sides, my head snapping to see the towering ginger standing behind me. "Speaking of the devil."

"I thought I saw Gin through the window," George explained, his hands lingering on my waist for long enough to his sister to stare, before pulling Ginny into a tight hug. "And came down to check if she was distracting my employee."

"You got her all bored here, mate." Harry pointed out, a light joking tone in his voice.

"And you're the one supposed to help with that?" George rolled his eyes dramatically. "Pfft... What a world we live in." With the said, he gave the boy a side hug. I heard Harry murmur an 'We missed you' before they pulled away with a pat on the shoulder.

My gaze landed on the youngest Weasley, whose welled up eyes were trained on her older brother's half smile. I only averted my eyes and waited for her to discreetly wipe away the unspilled tears while Harry and George catched up.

By the letters she had sent me, I reckoned the last time she had been near George, he had been lifeless; seeing a glimpse of who was once one of the most cheerful, funny and charismatic people in her life, was probably poignant to Ginny.

I hadn't realized she had moved closer until I didn't hear her soft voice. "Thank you." I offered her a confused smile, though deep down I knew what she meant.

Two Days Later

George was having one of those days.

We both knew it was coming soon; it had to happen sooner rather than later, since he had been in a surprisingly good mood for almost a week. I suspected seeing Harry and Ginny had brought back the events of the Second of May.

I suggested to close the shop for the day, since he was unable to move out of bed; he refused to do so, but I convinced him to stay in the flat and rest —it was Tuesday, anyway; I wouldn't have to handle many customers.

Due to that, when I saw Hermione, Ron, Bill and Fleur entered the shop, it was understandable that I hadn't become the happiest person in the world.

I greeted them, there were hugs, kisses, and even a joke or two, and when Bill asked about George, I excused him without giving much detail.

They understood.

Fleur was the one to restart the conversation, lightening a bit before requesting a tour for the shop, since she had not yet been there.

It was when we reached the love potions that Hermione, using the fact that Fleur was very much interested in the product, held my hand and pulled me aside.

"So... how are you doing?" The frown in her face, the fact that she was whispering, the squeeze her hand gave mine, let me know she had read me the moment her eyes met mines.

I sighed with a shrug.

"You can tell me." Could I? "No one's asking you to put on a happy face, Y/n." The girl assured me, her eyes digging into mines. "It's not just George, we all lost—" she shook her head at her own words before correcting herself. "you lost him too."

I lost him too.

I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering.

The memory of Fred's broken smile as his corpse laid on the stretcher, that memory that haunted my dreams, appeared vividly before my eyes.

My lips started to burn with the ghost of that kiss he gave me before we split up, him with Percy and me with George; it hadn't been meant to be a goodbye kiss. It was meant to be a good luck kiss.

I covered my mouth to muffle a sob, and Hermione's arms were quick to be wrapped around me, reassuringly rubbing my back.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I saw them entering from Y/n's balcony; I wasn't emotionally ready to face them all at the same time, but when I didn't see them exit, I figured Y/n hadn't been able to dismiss them.

I decided I owed to them all to bite the bullet, so I threw on a shirt and the first trousers I grabbed, cleaned up a bit and left the flat.

With a deep breath, I made it to the second floor and mentally prepared myself to go down to the first one.

As I began to climb down, though, I noticed Hermione and Y/n talking in private, closer than the others to the stairs.

I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but all my senses were automatically focused on Y/n whenever we were in the same room; she just stole me away from reality.

"You lost him too."

Hermione's words visibly triggered something on Y/n.

'Something', as if I didn't know what they had triggered, as if I didn't know what— who was on her mind.

I guess he was always on her mind, though.

What was left of my heart shattered in a million pieces when she broke down to tears —for several reasons—. "I miss him." She whispered in Hermione's shoulder. "I miss him so much."

If I had any tears left, I would have cried my eyes out right there. Had I been so selfish that I had disregarded how she was feeling? So blinded by the light and love and warmth she was constantly giving me that I had forgotten about her grief? Was I that bad of a person, that I would have rather live in the illusion that she had not lost the boy she was dating?

My mind told me I didn't want any of those questions answered.

"George!" As Ron yelled my name in surprise, Hermione and Y/n pulled away, the latter rubbing her eyes while both of my brothers jogged upstairs to hug me. "Ginny told us you're open—"

"But Y/n said you weren't feeling well." Bill finished, squeezing my shoulder. "We only stayed a little longer for Fleur to see the shop."

"Yeah, we'll come back tomorrow," Ron assured me. "So you can rest and..."

My brother's voice sounded further and further with each word; I felt myself drifting off, getting lost in my own mind and gravitating towards the same thought over and over.

She deserves better.

[windebris]

roman: princy or princess?

ok i know the title sounds like crack, but hear me out:

Roman’s whole deal is being a prince. Hes got the costume, he plays up the gimmick, he even has a fricking sword. We know this, we’ve seen the ups and downs of this in the series, and we know the black and white, prince vs evil mentality is about to explode in everyone’s face (more so than it already has, that is) because who everyone expects/wants him to be doesnt line up with his real self, and he’s still not at the point of truly accepting himself for who he isnt (a cookie cutter, perfect prince) and is (a mess) (via @beauty-and-passion bc i love their analyses so fricking much), but we’ll come back to that

Roman’s primary inspiration (via c! thomas’ perception) is disney princes, so lets take a look at their usual jobs in the films.

Vanquish evil 

Advocate true love

simple enough, right? just like roman, at first it seems that way. Im sure at the beginning of sanders sides we all thought he would be a showy, pretty boy prince who wanted thomas to be ‘good’. Because princes always get rid of the evil in the end, right?

but we know how thats worked out for roman. Mean to virgil, backfired awfully. Condemned janus, everyone’s against roman now. Separate from remus, it came back to bite thomas. And it was fine, roman would have put up with anything so long as it only hurt him, but because thomas got hurt everything is worse. (of course, this is the case with janus too, but i’ll come back to that)

everyone knows by now that there’s going to be a reckoning next episode. We’ve seen thomas costumed as remus, so he’s gonna be in there. Roman had a breakdown last ep, backed into a corner and a confrontation, so if he isnt there when his twin is i am going to riot. Janus is definitely going to be there bc the last ep saw jan fINALLY being accepted (also a part of that confrontation), and i’m just dying to know where virgil has been as well so he might also show up. The whole gang’s gonna see what chaos goes down if patton even sneezes in their general direction

where was i going with this, i had a point

RIGHT

So vanquish evil has failed every which way for roman. Whats left? True love. Now, in most films this refers to a princess, but i think roman’s focus always has been and always will be thomas. He was heartbroken when the whole ‘thomas was lying about roman being his hero’ (or at least roman interpreted janus’ nod that way), his whole theme is because thomas needed a prince to save him from the ‘bad thoughts’ ie remus (which is irrelevant to my point so we dont have time to unpack all that rn- /ref)

But because he failed to vanquish evil the ‘right’ way (even though literally everything patton ever said led him to believe he was doing the right thing-), he’s failed to show thomas the ‘true love’, hence he is no longer thomas’ hero. No longer his prince.

whaBAM, entire basis of his identity no longer exists

So what’s left?

disney is still there, its a core part of roman and no amount of anguish will lessen that it was a core part of c! thomas’ creative development

on that note, roman still has to be his core functions. creativity, passion, ego, hopes, dreams, etc

Thinking on it though, none of those ever fit neatly into the prince persona in the first place. A prince is there to serve his ‘kingdom’ (ie the sides + thomas) and to complete the above values, not to be an artist or performer or any of the things thomas dreams of. And there is no room for passion or ego in the life of a prince because he is always looking out for his people (what should be the others’ job). Which begs the question: why was roman a prince in the first place?

The obvious answer goes back to disney being c!thomas’ first forays into storytelling. the princes were perfect examples of ‘goodness’, which as we know is key to what thomas pre-the newer episodes wanted to be, and existing already in familiar stories with killer songs to match, it was an ideal match for a ‘good’ creativity

But deeper than that, i think roman is a prince because thomas needed a placeholder to be his protector. He wasnt yet aware of janus (the metaphorical protector, saving thomas from what he wasnt yet ready for), lying to himself about the dark other sides altogether, and virgil was too busy playing the ‘bad guy’ at the beginning to show his true colors (looking out for thomas is virgil’s purpose, as we now know), but back then? Roman was the one barricading virgil the most, ‘protecting’ thomas from his influence

Therefore! The reason roman was the prince was to ‘save’ thomas from the others, and unconsciously, the ‘dark creativity’. Without the ‘prince,’ thomas would have accepted the darkness all to easily (from roman’s perspective, which once again goes into the subconscious protecting from remus’ stuff)

But, returning to the point (i keep getting off track lol), now the prince is gone. He’s failed in his pursuits, there is nothing else to protect from (ignoring orange), he isnt thomas’ hero

I think, bear with me, he’s going to become more of a princess now.

✨metaphorically✨

Princes, in the typical disney movie, are black and white. Theyre either good (eric, phillip, etc) or bad (see hans). Fight evil, get the girl love interest, live happily ever after, or… dont.

Living happily ever after by fighting evil has gotten roman absolutely nowhere; in fact, it got him ostracized and rethinking his entire self concept, so thats not an option now.

princesses, on the other hand, have gone through a fricking renaissance. Where they used to be as black and white as princes minus the possibly-evil bit and delicate as flowers, now they can be hard-working, law-breaking, dream-chasing, yet still people-saving girlbosses, which is essentially roman on a can label.

im mixing my metaphors, but what roman really, truly needs right now is that metamorphosis. He’s crumbling under the pressure his prince persona puts on him (ha, alliteration). Thomas’ moral dilemma is making his two creativities split at the seams even more than they already have, because if morality is such a spectrum, then why is his creativity so seemingly (forgive the overuse of this phrase) black and white?

If roman could shed the princeliness and take in more princess qualities (ie a certain disregard for the rules, doing whats right [for thomas, that is, which is being himself {a theme in many princess-centric films} despite expectations] by ignoring pre-set rules and expectations), he’d be so much healthier in the long run

Thats not to say he should be a princess aesthetically. Dude said himself- he is a manly man who is manly, but the free spirit so many disney princesses seem to envelop could better not only roman, but thomas

this way, roman doesnt *have* to be perfect to be ‘good’ (something thomas still values, but in a different way now as we see in SvS redux). He can be his truest self (ego, passion, dreams and all) without contradicting who thomas sees roman as. He can go back to being his hero, if he wishes -- just in a new way

Because all the things that dont fit into being a prince fit perfectly into princesses (and he still gets to keep the innate disney-ness for the aesthetic)

[00gangfriend00]

I was tagged by @jade-marie and @bourbon-ontherocks to list my top 10 books  fics I read in 2020.

and lemme tell you..

i’ve been WAITIN’ for this one!!

This IS a bit tricky because I spent most of 2020 just lurking on AO3, no acccount, no commenting, no kudos. so there are just so so so many fics that I remember pieces of, and have little headcanons that LIVE with me but I have no idea who the author is or what the fic is called.  

so.. that being said, the top 10 is ever changing and could never be fully complete. I just love every author and every fic, you are all so wildly talented. 

❤  a song inside the halls of the dark - ms_scarlet  (@mego42 )

This fic has everything!! a sexy ex-lover rival gang leader, relaxed rio, angry rio, angsty kitchen sex rio. LOFT rio. AND it’s my favourite post-S2 reckoning of all time. There are moments in this fic that I just want to SPAM the gg writing room with. like scrap ur plans. DO. THIS.  Overall, this is such a creative and well-written series.  The characterization is superb, the smut has.... so many feelings, and the angst is AMAZING. There are a couple chapters (I wont give spoilers) that involves Beth in a hotel in Canada that I legit could not stop reading. it’s just all... so damn GOOD. favourite line: You thought I could be something, right? Well, this is that something. The bitch you trained bit back. 

❤  we’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks - BourbonOnTheRocks  (@bourbon-ontherocks)

Whew! this fic has EVERYTHING. safe house brio. KARMA. brio ignoring each other. snippy, cranky brio. baking shows. mick overhearing loud shower sex. zero communication. brio getting high and giggling! all the feelings. I looooove this fic. like I LOVE it.  it's so creative and it feels so real!! I can play it like a movie in my head. There is so much fun smutty build up, so much tension, anxiety and a very, very, good Thaw Of Feelings which is my fav. I will forever have a soft spot for safe house fics, but this one hilariously twists the trope by doubling down on their idiot stubbornness. genius. favourite line:  He's using her and she's using him. Maybe it's the only thing they're truly equal at.

❤  my girl - elizabethmarks (not on tumblr?)

This fic has everything!!!!!!! (but TW that everything is not for everyone, as the plot primarily revoles around a rape scene.) This fic sets up some of the most soft, emotional, protective brio moments. I also adore how this author handles the delicate subject matter. I work from time to time as a crisis advcate for women and ...... this fic is so accurate and well written. All the emotions beth feels, the way rio reacts to her. everything. I have read this SO many times. It also inludes a Mick POV that will TUG at your HEART.  favourite line: *When on route to Rio’s loft* Rio nods, with that gentle look he has. "Alright, mama. Let's get you home." There's a beat, they both catch it, but neither of them make the correction.

❤  working on things - odenkirk (not on tumblr?)

THIS fic, now this fic has everything!!!!!!!!! masturbation! sexting! weed-smokin horny rio! DEAN?!??! in a way that didnt repulse me???? SEX. kinda threesome??? a heck of a lot of things that I didnt think id be into but then read it and was like HUH, guess i AM. and last but not least, deliciously perfect characterization. This is a fic I ask you to take a risk on. It will pay off. Its fun and oooh soooooooo sexy. Yes, dean goes to pound town too, but I promise- odenkirk makes it WORK.  Blush meter: off the charts. I had to put my phone down and reckon with Jesus.  favourite line:   Rio: Don't get precious, sweetheart. It's you cuz it's you.  AHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

❤ miles before you sleep - FakePlastikTrees (@nakedmonkey)

THIS AUTHOR has EVERYTHING! FakePlastikTrees is one of those authors where... I read one fic - then buckled my seatbelt and clicked on her account so I could systematically read through every. single. fic. They are often short scenes that feel so true. Her Rio characterization makes me green with (benevolent) envy. and her smut?? oof. top notch.  This fic in particular lives in my heart because it really truly feels like a missing GG scene between Beth and our favourite tattooed babysitter. The atmosphere is tangible and the author slows time down for these two, it stretches out like you are smokin in the suburbs with them. I love a MickFic and this one is top tier. 

favourite line: “Oh come on. He’s a little unhinged.” “Takes one to know one.” 

❤  people can be so cold - s_t_c_s (@sothischickshe)

ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh this fic has EVERYTHING. scrabble competitiveness! annie speaking truths! christmas beth! christmas rio?!?! delicious bickering! CABIN isolation!  gift giving perfection! I could go on and on and on.  This fic just pulls you straight in. stcs crafts the timeline so effortlessly, and weaves it with so many endearing and authentic feeling details (beth has her own ‘guys’ now, and we know this bc she gives them sweets and food. OF COURSE) The longing between her and rio is so RICH. if you want your heart to swell a million sizes - this is the fic for you.  favourite line:  They hadn’t – been intimate yet, back when she got him arrested, or the first few times he’d shoved a gun in her face. And the sexual part had been all done and dusted prior to their, god, kidnapping and shooting fiasco. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t present throughout – a hovering spectre, forming a treacherous spine through all their endeavours.

  ❤ listening through the air shaft - ms_scarlet (@mego42)

now this fic. actually for real, has everything. because its every POV you never knew you NEEDED.  and mego42 absolutely nails each and every one. especially Dean. Its a complicated look into his blubbering sexist mind, and misguided fixations that is really well-written. The way in which brio has their own arc throughout the chapters, but told through the eyes of those around them - is amazing. this fic just makes you love every character even MORE.  favourite line: well.. annie, mick and ruby have a group chat and thats all you need to know. anytime that comes up = favourite line.

❤ instigator - nomind (@inyoursheets)

be still my bisexual heart. this fic has everyONE! Yes, this fic dissolves into perfect threesome smut BUT before you get there, you get this awesome set up of a dangerous-feeling connection between Rhea and Beth. They are honest, open and fully acknowledging the fuckedupness of their desire. For how small a part Rhea has in the show - this author NAILS her voice, it’s uncanny. Both of them talking about rio? sign me up. Rio coming home to it? sign me UP.  favourite line: “Jesus,” she hears behind her. “What am I looking at right now?” Rhea smiles down on her, ignoring him, running her fingers through Beth’s hair.

** shout out to another be-still-my-bi-heart fic : @sothischickshe​’s “its a dirty, dirty, game”

❤ do not pass go - linzackles @mrslackles

this. fic. has. every. thing.  I am currently putting every single important thing in my life on hold to PLOUGH through this series. like full speed ahead. UGH. marcus!!! beth and rio at an event! a fancy one! big bad business dudes! betrayal! beth making bad choices! rio unable to fully communicate the weight of his desire for her! angst! just excellent, excellent, excellent plots. i like everything!!!!! favourite line: truly impossible. they are all art. but this one made me cackle.  Shrugging, she responds. In the bathroom, eating nuts.Annie’s reply comes through instantly. Rio’s???????

❤  meet me under the mistletoe - sdktrs12 (@sdktrs12)

this fic.... has.... everything. I want to include this not only because I loooOoOOOved it, but also because this author just has a talent for creating holiday themed brio fics that are not in the slightest cheesy, or forced. which is... hard! to! do! I read her halloween series while in quarantine, and it became apart of my little daily routine. each fic containing at least one moment that made me go AHHH these two!!!!!  so in short - thanks for infusing all my holidays with stellar brio. then christmas comes around and she nails it again! beth and rio begrudgingly working late?   YES. they migh each have a date but they dont DARE talk abut their jealously? YES. Bourbon as a third character? haha YES! Beth looking smokin hot? YES.  favourite line: “Is that your move? Meet me under the mistletoe?”  “Oh baby, you know my moves.”  

and PHEW. there ya go! 

Thank you amazing fanfic authors for making my year 10000000% better. 

I TAG @whiskeyjack @purplemagic @sdktrs12 @joeyjoeylee @ama-ssiempre @roxy206

[narumi-gens]

ukai decides to propose. you've already talked about it, you KNOW you want to spend your lives together, he knows hopes you'll say yes.

(his heart might never recover if you don't)

so he goes about buying a ring. he steals a ring of yours when you're asleep for sizing purposes. selecting a ring wasn't as hard as he'd thought it would be — he knew his budget, he knew what you liked (he's known you your whole life). so he goes out and buys a pretty little silver band inlaid with three tiny diamonds. it's a little heavy on his wallet, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime thing. you deserve nice things.

then came the planning of the actual proposal. this was, he realized, significantly harder than he'd thought it would be.

maybe he should keep it simple? dinner followed by a walk under the stars. he'll get down on one knee and—no. isn't that too cliché? he can do better.

an elaborate treasure hunt throughout your house? maybe he can make up clues based on all the memories you've made together: eating dinner on the floor the first night of moving in because the dining table was too hard to assemble, or learning the importance of separating whites and colours when your favourite white blouse comes out the washing machine stained a murky blue because of that damn t-shirt of his. or something to do with that time you'd had a stomach bug and he'd nursed you through it, staying by your side even after you'd thrown up on him.

no, he decides, it'd be bad if you couldn't connect the clues to these events. besides, he's no literary genius. coming up with elaborate prose for the clues is not a task he considers himself capable of.

then what?

ukai is standing in the karasuno gym, thumbing at the ring box sitting snugly inside his jacket pocket. he'd taken to carrying it around with him after you'd almost stumbled upon the ring hidden behind the plants you'd insisted on keeping in the house.

he's exhausted his creativity racking his brain for ideas. everything he could come up with seemed too cliché, or too cringey, or just downright stupid. he's suddenly brought back to reality when takeda clears his throat next to him, 'is everything okay?' falling from his lips, tone polite as ever.

fuck, he shouldn't be zoned out during practice. he really needs to put a stop to this. ukai looks at the man standing next to him. maybe he could help? takeda was a poet at heart, after all, so he should be able to come up with a romantic proposal.

ukai confides in him, accepting the congratulatory pat takeda gives him. by now, this little interaction has attracted the attention of the nut more curious of his boys. tanaka, nishinoya, hinata gather around him with kageyama creeping up behind them. he can tell that the other members are listening in too, just not as obviously.

'what's the matter, coach?'

ukai eyes his team. it wouldn't hurt to tell them, right? they don't really come into contact with you all that often, and when they do, it's for brief moments only, when you're popping in to drop off his keys or his wallet that he'd forgotten at home.

'i'm, uh, thinking of proposing. bought the ring and everything, just need to come up with a plan now.'

dead silence echoes throughout the gym before complete mayhem breaks out.

he's being congratulated simultaneously by sawamura, azumane, and ennoshita while tanaka and nishinoya are huddled together on the floor, weeping tears of happiness (at least, ukai thinks they're tears of happiness. you can never tell with these two.) tsukishima goes back to sipping at his drink, while yamaguchi's eyes light up, much like yachi's. shimizu, too, offers him a soft smile and a congratulations before tanaka pipes up.

'can we see the ring?!'

well, they already know, so ukai reckons it wouldn't do much harm to let them see it. he reaches into his pocket and takes out the box, flipping it open to reveal the silver band wedged inside. the team crowds around him, oohs and aahs falling from their mouths. tanaka nods somberly, a finger stroking his chin, as he mutters, "excellent choice, coach. she's going to say yes."

"who's going to say yes?"

fourteen pairs of eyes land on you, holding so many emotions in them, from amusement to sheer panic. you stand at the door of the gymnasium, holding ukai's lunch. he'd accidentally taken yours today, so you thought you could pop in to exchange it and see your boyfriend while doing so. but the scene you happened upon was completely unexpected.

ukai scrambled violently with something in his hands, while takeda looked like he'd seen a ghost. the kid with the goatee was panicky, his eyes flitting around for an escape. the two shortest of the bunch were fidgeting with whatever keishin was holding, apparently trying to help him with it.

keyword: trying.

all the jostling and shoving they did managed to knock the thing out of keishin's hands. you squint as it flies through the air — was that a box? — as keishin desperately tries to get to it before it lands in front of you.

he draws on every single diving receive he'd ever done in his entire life and swoops across the gymnasium, towards you.

he does not get there in time.

the box clatters to the ground in front of you, keishin landing there a second later. you're still stuck trying to process the situation, but you have enough presence of mind to lean down and pick up the box, finally being able to see its contents.

oh. oh.

keishin thumps the ground with his first before he looks up at you, eyes filled with resignation. he's quite the sight - his hair had slipped out of his hairband and his nose was bleeding. yet he drags himself to sit up on one knee.

you've already seen the ring. might as well get it over with.

keishin opens his mouth, ready to launch into an unrehearsed speech, cursing the universe with every fiber of his being for making things turn out this way. but you don't give him a chance to say anything.

his eyes widen before he's knocked to the ground by you flinging yourself on top of him. you're hugging him, face buried in his neck, whispering 'yes, yes, yes, always, a thousand times yes' and suddenly he can't bring himself to care about the awkwardness of the situation.

keishin laughs before sitting up, bringing you with him. he gently separates you from him before taking the ring tightly clutched in your palm and slipping it onto your finger. the whole scene feels a little too intimate for a high school gymnasium, but it's only fair that it happens here, he thinks. after all, this is where he'd realised he loved you, all the way back when you two had been first years.

he blinks back the tears suddenly clouding his eyes and restrains the urge to kiss you senseless right there. the two of you had created enough drama for the day. instead he settles for kissing the inside of your wrist as he laces his fingers through yours, before lifting them up in the air, as if announcing his victory.

the entire gymnasium burst into cheers once again. this time it was asahi and kinoshita in tears while hinata and nishinoya jumped around in joy. takeda was grinning ear to ear when he gave you his congratulations, followed shortly by daichi and sugawara. and you could've sworn you saw the senior manager's eyes flit to the bald-headed boy, a blush coating her cheeks. but that was something for another day.

today, right now, you would celebrate. sure, the proposal had been far from ideal, but keishin was yours and you were his and you found yourself wishing it would be this way forever.

i do not know what this is but this scenario refused to leave my mind unless i wrote it down aaaa

sorry for the long ass ask!! please feel free to ignore i just wanted to share ❄️

....anon....I am SPEECHLESS!!!! what did do to deserve such a wonderful anon who drops such amazing things in my inbox 😭😭 (and while I may be slow to reply bc...life...ugh... don't worry anon, I would never ignore something like this!!!! god, nothing gets me more than dorky, lame, grumpy ukai who's such a sweetheart and so soft and I'm just DYING over this.

everyone be jealous of my amazing anon 💕

(also don't catch me going through all my ukai wips that haven't been touched in a year+. nope, definitely not doing that... 👀)

[bl597]

Hey Again~! May I request a Sirius x Female Fifth Marauder? Thanks and also you wrote my last request beautifully 🥰

hello, dear! thank you so much 💞 of course, I'm sorry for the wait!! also, I didn't know what exactly you wanted to so I just wrote it, hope you enjoy it! 💖

warnings: the words 'fuck you' like twice, (Y/a/n) stands for your animagus name, Sirius becomes (Y/n) and (Y/n) becomes Sirius, the plot is a little ??? but yeah it worked, it's not revised bc I'm lazy, fluffy, english is not my first language, so I'm sorry for any mistakes!! also, requests are closed for a while, but I'll open them soon!

my masterlist ♡

Sirius was bored and for some unknown reason you had a small bottle of Polyjuice potion on your dorm, so what could go wrong, right? You decided it would be funny to pretend to be each other and Sirius thought the exactly same, so here you were now: in the girl's bathroom with Sirius, a little bottle on both your hands.

“You ready?” you asked and he nodded, smirking before you two drank it together.

It was a weird feeling, you felt like your skin was wax and it was melting, stretching your skin so you could look just like the boy right in front of you. You felt your legs growing, and you had the impression that you were taller now, your hands bigger than usual and your torso didn't have boobs anymore, it was just flat. “Wow” you said, looking at the mirror and seeing none other than Sirius Black.

You were glad you had changed clothes before, or else it would be a little bit weird to change someone else's clothes – even though you knew it was you, it still was Sirius' body, and that would be uncomfortable for both of you. “How do I look?” he asked and you finally looked at him; he was exactly like you. The same eyes, same face, same hair, same everything.

“Hot” you answered, sweeping your hands through your hair just like Sirius does and he chuckled. “Do you reckon they'll believe it?”

“Definetly. We all only share one single brain cell, and we're using it now. They won't even notice” he replied with a mischievous smile.

The both of you then left the bathroom quietly, being careful not to let someone see you leaving it at the same time, or else it might earn you a detention. You two then headed to the Gryffindor tower, excitedly talking about your plan and what their reaction would be.

“Password” asked the Fat Lady with a charming smile.

“Bowtruckle” you both said in unison, giggling as the she opened the door to the common room.

“You think they'll notice?” Sirius whispered and you shook your head with a small smirk as you two sat down on the couch next to the other boys.

“Hello, lads” you said, wrapping your arms around Remus' and James' shoulders just like Sirius does.

“Night, losers” Sirius said, throwing a pillow on you with a cheeky smile.

James and Remus exchanged knowing smiles, speaking to each other with their eyes. Remus looked at the stairs to the boys' dorms and then at James, who nodded with a wink.

“Hey, Pads, can you help me with something? It's on our dorm” he asked and you nodded a little confused, following him to the boys' dorm.

You have been here a few times before with them, so you gladly already knew the way to it. When you entered the room, he closed the door and turned to you with a smirk. “So, how was it? Did you tell her already? You both entered the common room giggling and all happy, I bet you two were kissing before its” he asked and you frowned.

“Oh, no, I'm actually planning on telling her later. When we're.. alone, you know?” you smirked, hoping he would believe you knew what you were talking about, which he apparently did. He gave you a big smile and patted your shoulder before you two left the dorm again.

Remus was talking to Sirius about a book you had told him while Sirius was confusedly saying things that definitely were not on the book and you laughed quietly at his face. They both looked up when they heard footsteps and saw it was you and James, Sirius sighed in relief and Remus looked at James with a curious look, but Prongs just shook his head.

“Hey, Pads, can we talk for a sec?” Sirius said almost desperately and you nodded, leaving the common room with him as Remus and James encouraged you, a big smile on their faces.

Once you were out of the common room again, Sirius turned to you with wide eyes, blushing slightly “What did Prongs tell you?” he asked nervously.

“Apparently I have something to tell you, (Y/a/n)” you replied with a small smirk, watching as he face palmed himself “Hey, stop, don't hit my pretty face”

“He didn't mention anything else, right?” you shook your head and he sighed in relief again “Great” he murmured, a satisfied smile on his lips.

“Actually, he mentioned something else” you said with a mischievous smile and paused for a while, pretending to think. His eyes widened as he looked at you, a blush painting your his face “He mentioned something about us kissing before entering the common room. Don't know what he meant with that”

If possible, Sirius became even redder than a pepper. You had never seen Sirius so flustered like this, and that made your eyes widen in surprise, a smirk forming itself on your lips.

“I'll kill him” he groaned, his confident self vanishing away.

“Mind telling me what's so special you had to tell me?” you asked, kind of already knowing what it was all about, but you just wanted to see how long it'll take for him to finally admit it. You raised a brow at his lack of words and he groaned again, still blushing. “Cat got your tongue, Black?”

He then approached you, eyes fixed on yours and you felt your knees go weak, but you kept the smirk on your lips. He got so close to you that your noses were brushing against each other, your lips a few centimeters away from his. “I always wondered how it would feel to kiss myself” he spoke quietly, his voice with a hint of tease as his lips mirrored your smirk.

“Why don't you do it, then?” your voice was barely above a whisper when it left your mouth and you soon felt his lips meeting yours in a kiss you've been dreaming about for years.

Your hands cupped his face to deepen the kiss and his hands rested on your hip as he pulled you closer to him, your mouths moving in synch as your tongues fought for dominance. He pulled apart a few minutes later to breathe, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. “How was it?”

“Better than I expected it to be” he confessed smiling.

“So the oh so important thing you had to tell me was that you always wanted to kiss yourself?” you asked, holding back your laughter as he playfully rolled his eyes.

“No, you idiot. I wanted to say that...” he murmured the last part shyly, which made you smirk.

“Sorry, I didn't hear you, Pads” you teased, with a fake innocent expression as you looked at him.

“Fuck you” he mumbled before pulling you by the colar of the shirt you were wearing and kissing you again, this time rougher than the kiss you shared a few minutes ago. When you were about to deepen it, he pulled apart and you groaned as he proudly watched your swollen lips. “I hope that answers your question”

“It didn't” he looked at you in disbelief and you smirked before speaking again “But I'll accept it anyways. You can tell me you love me later when you're not looking like a human pepper.” you winked at him before pulling him by his hand to the common room, where Moony and Prongs were excitedly waiting for you two.

They looked up almost immediately when they heard the footsteps and their smile widened even more when they saw your red faces.

“What do you think, Moony?” asked Prongs.

“Hmmm, Pads' lips are really swollen” he pointed at your lips and then at Sirius' face “and (Y/a/n)'s face looks like it's on fire which means they were snogging. Besides, they're holding hands” he pointed with a cheeky smile at your laced fingers.

“Fuck you both” Sirius groaned, dragging you to sit down on the couch next to him.

~

taglist ♡

@bwitchd @fific7 @iamak20 @msmimimerton @grierpilots @idontknowwhatthisisfam @imseeinggred @kashishwrites @tsuukichan @mischiefsemimanaged @just-a-dreamer23