#(Pete's not ready for that conversation) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kingtomura · 1 month

Text

Arcade

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3

You meet him on a Friday.

The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up.

Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears.

The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched.

You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it.

The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.

You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.

“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Irritating.

You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”

He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you.

This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes.

To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud.

The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”

You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”

He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it.

“No thanks.”

This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course.

But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one.

You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage.

You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration.

“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again.

He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies.

The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”

He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun.

“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.

Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.

You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon.

It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment.

He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun.

Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral.

It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies.

Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot.

The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t.

You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.

Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him.

“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.

It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen.

You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”

He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears.

“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again.

“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round.

“Sure.”

And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.

—---------------------

The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.

The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions.

“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close.

Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.

The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.

You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain.

“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.

“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.

Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”

“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?”

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”

“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”

“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.

“Fine, I'll try it.”

Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune.

“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.”

Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely.

It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both.

“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face.

You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.”

“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.

“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.”

“I could beat you at other games.”

This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?”

He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.”

You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.”

The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”

You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.”

He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.

Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience.

You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last.

The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not.

“Oh, come on!” You shout.

“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win.

Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line.

Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again.

He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”

“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.

“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.”

“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”

Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.”

The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that.

“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place.

It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up.

“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment.

Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”

His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.

“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm.

Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks.

You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation.

But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?

“Do you want to go another round?”

“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”

You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute.

It's settled. You hate this man.

His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.

“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head,

“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now.

“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?”

You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.

“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you.

“I know why.”

You brace yourself for mortification.

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.”

He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you.

He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes.

God, maybe he’s an idiot.

You want to kiss him.

“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”

There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice.

“Sure.”

The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match.

“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up.

You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.

You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.

“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.

“Um, home? It’s getting late.”

“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”

You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.

So you do.

And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.

“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.

“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.”

Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”

You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up.

The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.

“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”

“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.

You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”

The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.

Or kiss him.

Whichever came first.

Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone.

That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed.

Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out.

“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room.

You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely.

“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.

“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips.

It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him.

He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties.

It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there.

Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today.

He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch.

But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out.

“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure.

“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver.

Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”

Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt.

“Get this off.”

You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do.

No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices.

There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine.

It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made.

Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer.

He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more.

You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.

Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours.

Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze.

“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious.

You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”

Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”

The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other.

“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?”

You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words.

There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?”

His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.”

Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake.

“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.

Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.

Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”

You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”

Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties.

“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”

And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close.

It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there.

Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild.

You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm.

Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release.

“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”

“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side.

You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them.

You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you.

It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation.

He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation.

“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.

“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”

And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket.

You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..?

“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head.

His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.”

And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out.

He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation.

“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip.

Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves.

The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure.

It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again.

You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax.

“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh—

You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you.

It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.”

You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you.

You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance.

The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt.

The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch.

Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined.

“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.”

Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.

You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.

“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside.

“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again.

Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.”

You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.”

And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words.

You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm.

“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder.

The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today.

“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”

You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family.

And they were loving! Loving and observant.

You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet.

Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out.

It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent.

You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.

“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”

And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”

Oh, god. They knew.

“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”

Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle.

“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”

Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.”

The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you.

“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”

You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you.

It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.

—-------------------------

And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you.

The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy.

It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child.

Even though you’re an adult.

Even though you can make your own decisions about your life.

It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off.

You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture.

“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”

“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way.

There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand.

“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”

Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”

She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.”

It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex.

They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.

“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”

Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?”

They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it.

To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall.

The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor.

How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks.

Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning.

It’s been a week.

A long, boring, drawn-out week.

You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried.

It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long.

You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely.

Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around.

You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone.

So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.

You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.

Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence.

It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you.

It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together.

There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.

You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind.

But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you.

Tomura.

He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization.

“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears.

You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.

“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by.

You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”

“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”

The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue.

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you.

“Then don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”

Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?”

There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours.

It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.

#shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #mha x reader #my works #tomura shigaraki smut #shigaraki smut

503 notes · View notes

jamespottersdaisy · 1 year

Text

Gold Rush.

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

"You keep a manual on how to turn down a girl?"

"Do you really want to talk about other girls on our date? I mean, I am fine with it if that's what you want, but it's rather uncommon topic for dates."

based on a request.

warnings- literally nothing, this is just pure fluff.

6,1k

author's note- no use of y/n. i kinda like this but also don't? but i definitely enjoyed writing this. english is not my first language so beware <3

The weather was warm, and the Sun was hugging you under its heat. A light breeze would caress your hair occasionally, reminding you that you were still laying on the grass.

You should move under the tree’s shadow, but there was just something too peaceful about laying down on the green, so close to the lake that wouldn’t let you move an inch.

Your eyes were closed, sun lightening the pitch black under your eyelids. Your ears were focused only on the plashings from the lake. Your senses were relaxed, letting the serene sensation take over. You were blissfully oblivious to your surroundings.

Unfortunately, you could only ignore everything till one point. You could ignore the blaring screams, but you couldn't ignore the brooms whooshing next to your ears.

Your eyes fluttered open, brows furrowing in discontent. You narrowed your eyes to adjust them to sunlight and propped up on your elbows.

"Do you ever stop, Potter?" you yelled at James, who was soaring high in the sky. You heard him laugh before disappearing mid-air.

"He doesn't," a distant but familiar voice said.

You turned at it, watching Remus walk to you. His frustratingly long stature towered over you, blocking the Sun.

You exhaled, readying yourself for another identical conversation with him that you both craved and despised.

"Lupin," you offered him a tiny smile.

"May I?" he asked, but before you could reply he laid next to you. Sunlight gleamed in his amber eyes. Your smile grew as a counter to the irritation building up in your core.

"You already did."

"Is that a problem?" he asked with a sheepish smile, narrowing his eyes from the Sun.

It wasn't a problem with you; you enjoyed having Remus close. The problem was something entirely else that you abhorred to even think about.

"I don't mind."

"What were you doing out here alone?"

You sat up and involuntarily stroked the grass, all while Remus watched you, laid down with one palm under his head. You were conscious of his gaze all of a sudden.

“I liked the weather today. So here I am,” you said, suppressing the urge to fix the skirt of your dress.

“You look nice,” he cleared his throat. You caught him glancing at your bare legs before averting his eyes to the lake.

You hated the red rose blossoming in your chest after his mere compliment. You reminded yourself that you are not the only girl that dressed nice today.

“Thanks,” you said, not letting yourself dwell in racing thoughts., “What were you guys doing?”

“Nothing of importance. Sirius and James wanted to play Quidditch.”

You looked around, finding James and Sirius easily. They were loudly laughing and screaming at something in the sky.

“Where’s Pete–”

“With his girlfriend, I wager,” Remus cut you off, “I don’t know where he is actually. I just came here when I saw you were alone.”

You cursed at the butterfly in your stomach. He only put several words next to each other and here you were, chasing after your heart that took off the moment his voice mingled in the air. Still, you didn’t let his words stammer yours.

“Did you need something?”

Remus stared into your eyes. You stared back.. His eyes were screaming the words your ears were refusing to listen.

“Yeah, no,” he chuckled dryly, “Just wanted to see you.”

‘Why?’ you wanted to ask.

Sometimes you thought maybe you knew why; maybe the echo in your heart was right. But then you would notice how many other boys and girls also looked at him the way you did and you would listen to the echo in your mind instead.

You hummed and attempted to change the topic.

“Why are you guys in the school today? No Hogsmeade?”

“James and Sirius have detention,” Remus said, watching you observe the lake as if it was the most magnificent thing you had ever laid your eyes on.

“For what?”

“For blowing up all Slytherin students’ potions that were brewing.”

“Why would they even do that?” you laughed. A frog jumped out of the water.

“I think I heard them say they were bored.”

“And now you’re stuck here because of them.”

Remus shrugged.

“It’s alright. I like it here more.”

You turned your head at him, noticing him gazing at your face.

You reminded yourself you shouldn’t let his intense gaze or implicit allusions confuse you.

He was Remus, “the Casanove of Gryffindor Tower”, Lupin.

Everybody wanted him. How could they not?

His soft, pink lips, perfect nose and messy brown hair were the first things that would alert the attention. His chestnut-coloured eyes with a fey glisten would emulate his whimsical smile, making it impossible to look away. The outworn jumpers would always compliment his hair, resulting in such a sight that a butterfly would slip right into your chest. Whenever he would chuckle, you would fight with the yen for smiling at the sound of his laugh.

And the scars.

Your friends would sometimes say they were Remus’s only flaws, which you would scoff at. You adored his scars. You loved the way they contrasted with his perfection, yet still unable to outshine it. You loved the way they dazzled under the Sun and darkened under the shadow.

He was beautiful, unblemished and gorgeous. And you wanted him.

You wanted him, but you were not the only one wanting him.

So many other girls would stare at him in the hallways; some even would confess their feelings for him. Remus would turn them down kindly but would flirt his way out if needed. Thus, you never gave your thoughts and ardour enough power to befog your mind with hopes.

You didn’t guess why he would smile at you, dressing his words with a charm that would turn your heart upside down. You didn’t guess why he would flirt with you but would refuse to talk to you explicitly. You didn’t ask. You never reacted to his flirtatious words and smiles, refusing to acknowledge them. You simply convinced yourself that he was doing the same thing with everyone. Who wouldn’t if they had his charm?

“I like it here, too. It’s peaceful.”

He hummed and stretched out his unoccupied hand. You watched him get up on his feet, his hand still offering something to you. You accepted it. A daisy caressed the skin of your palm.

“Do you care for a walk, dove?

“Why so formal?” you chuckled as you took his hand, letting him help you to stand. The daisy was between your two fingers, twirling around.

“It makes up for my charm.”

“Ah yes,” you rolled your eyes,”your famous charm.”

“Famous? I wouldn’t say–”

“Oh, please, Remus. We know you’re enjoying the attention.”

Remus’s smirk put a smile on your lips, welcoming the same butterflies you shunned a few moments ago.

“It does flatter me,” he said, “Why? Does it bother you?”

Oh, it did bother you.

It boiled your blood that you weren’t the only one whose skin was on fire from Remus’s touch. It annoyed you that you weren’t the only one infatuated with his smile. It irked you beyond comparison that you weren’t the only one getting flustered from his drawling but warm tone.

“Of course not,” you shook your head, straightening your back.

“That’s good. I wouldn’t want you to be bothered by me.”

“I am not,” you reassured, “except the times you’re reading your book loudly.”

You were not necessarily alone in this matter. Some days in the middle of your studies, you would get distracted by Remus’s voice, unable to comprehend any word on the pages.

“Library is for reading,” he shrugged, watching the twirling daisy between your fingers.

“Library is for reading silently.”

“I don’t scream, do I?”

He grinned at your scoff, stopping in his tracks.

“So, listen,” his smile ebbed a bit into something jittery. “I wanted to ask if you’d like to–”

“Remus!”

Your focus left Remus’s voice, changing direction to a feminine voice from a few steps away.

“Here you are!” she said, smiling as wide as her mouth went.

Lacey Green.

You’ve seen her multiple times next to Remus, smiling wide, stroking his arm or tilting her head as she was talking. She was an objectively attractive girl, successful in her studies and surely popular in her house, Hufflepuff.

But for some reason, you didn’t like her.

Maybe it was the way she would always beam, or maybe it was she would call Remus’s name.

“Hey, Lacey,” Remus greeted her, visually disappointed at getting interrupted.

“Oh, were you busy?” she asked innocently after throwing you a mere glance.

You suppressed the urge to roll your eyes. You were there, weren’t you? It shouldn’t have been that hard to take a guess.

“I–” Remus looked at you for a moment, turning back to Lacey. “We were just talking.”

“Would it be all right if I borrowed him?” she asked you, smiling as she linked arms with Remus, almost ready to leave.

You arched a brow at Remus, ignoring the annoyance luring under your skin. He looked at you, clearly weighing his options.

“It won’t be long,” he said.

Lacey let out a small chuckle, dragging Remus away.

Remus didn’t come back that day.

Professor Slughorn could be a total menace sometimes. As if the five pages long essay weren’t enough, you needed to brew a potion. Fortunately, you managed to complete everything, albeit you were now sleep-deprived.

Someone needed to tell this man that his subject was not the only subject being taught in Hogwarts.

“Don’t you look nice?” you heard your friend’s sarcastic tone as you sat beside him.

“How do you even look decent?” you asked Tom, looking at his combed hair and perfect attire in awe. “You and I both did that homework together.”

“No. Your dumbass was up until five in the morning. I was dreaming about flying cats in my bed at that hour.”

You grunted, rubbing your temples to soothe the ache. "I hate potions."

"That makes two of us," Tom announced, making you wince at his tone. “If I don’t get a nice twenty points from this, I will start strangling professors in their sleep.”

"You're a bit loud, Tom."

"Button it. Your man is here."

You looked where Tom was pointing, observing a group of four boys entering the classroom. Your eyes found Remus almost immediately.

He was walking up to his partner– Lacey– while joking with his friends. His brown eyes caught yours, offering you a wide smile.

You merely nodded and turned back to Tom, who had an extremely mocking expression on his face.

"What?”

“You’re acting like you’re not going to giggle and blush just because he smiled at you,” he smirked. “You can’t fool me. I know you too well.”

When you rolled your eyes instead of giving Tom a reply, he continued.

“He still hasn’t approached you?”

“No. I bet on my last galleon that he’s probably forgotten about it.”

Tom made a noise in his throat to let you know he wasn’t appreciating Remus’s behaviour, either.

You didn’t mind that much; you were used to it. You were used to being the centre of Remus’s attention for a moment and being totally forgotten the next day. It was simply how it had been working for quite some time now.

It would be a lie to say it never bothered you because it did.

You hated how Remus would occasionally let you soar in the sky with joy, only to crush your wings afterwards. You were sure he wasn’t even aware of what he was doing. For him, you were simply another girl that fancied him.

You stopped the train of thoughts in your mind before they dived deep, focusing on the starting class. Focusing on the class instead of Lacey’s impossible-to-ignore laugh.

As much as you wanted to prevent Lacey and Remus’s dynamic partner relationship from getting into your head, under your skin and leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, your ears wouldn’t stop hearing.

Apparently, Remus had good humour. He must be given the noises arising from his desk.

And he had finished his potion yesterday, too. Lacey made sure the whole class knew that.

You were messing up with your potion; you knew that. And you did feel guilty that Tom was clearing up the mess you’ve been making, but you were tired. People needed to cut you some slack.

You were half into the lesson when you felt shivers next to your ear.

“Psst.”

Remus’s warm breath hovered over your jawline as you refused to acknowledge him. How did he even get here?

“I have to ask you something.”

“Mr Lupin, what are you doing there?” Slughorn’s tone almost put a smile on your lips. Almost.

“I’m just borrowing some ingredients from this sweet lady.”

“Stop flirting and be quick then.”

You heard Remus’s ‘Yes, sir,’ and felt him nod before feeling his breath again.

“I don’t have any ingredients.”

“Didn’t ask, dove. I came here for something else.”

“You lied to a professor.”

“Will you come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?”

Your heart dropped to the ground or maybe skipped a beat; you weren’t capable of telling the difference. Your mind let the words sink in before raising questions behind your eyes.

“What?” you turned to Remus, stepping away from him, from an almost nonexistent distance.

“Will you come to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” Remus raised his voice, thinking that you didn’t hear him well. His change in tone attracted a few heads to the conversation.

“Why?”

Remus parted his lips, readying an answer for you. You watched him falter for a moment.

“Because I’d love you to?”

You winced at his explanation. “That’s not an answer.”

If it was some other time, you would smile at his confusion and ineptness.

“I think it’s a good answer.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it is not!”

“Yes, it is, I want you to let me take you out on a date.”

“A date?!” you blurted out, eyes widening.

You knew Remus could be awkward sometimes, but you didn’t guess he sucked at proper communication.

You couldn’t even comprehend that your heart fastened or that your pupils dilated, or that your fingertips went cold. Your mind was rounding around the word ‘date’ out of Remus’s lips.

“Mr Lupin! Please take your flirtatious nature and get back to your desk!”

Remus nodded at the professor but didn’t budge, still waiting for your answer. You, on the other hand, were extremely conscious of the looks fixated on you by the students.

“Mr Lupin, I will not repeat myself!”

Remus sighed, raising his eyebrows at you before returning to his desk. You shrugged at Tom’s questioning expression before focusing on the liquid before you.

Your head was throbbing at the end of the lesson, sleeplessness mingling with irritation somewhere in your temple, letting you know that the ache was not leaving anytime soon.

“Damn, you’ve been so helpful today,” you heard Tom from your left.

“Cut me some slack, come on.”

“Yeah, my apologies. I forgot that you were running on pure caffeine.”

“I love you, Tom, I really do,” you turned to him,”but please shut up.”

“It’s official, you’ve gone crazy,” he said, packing up his things. “I’ll let Mr Lupin handle your headache today.”

Without letting you a moment to ask what was going on, Tom nodded to you and someone behind you before leaving the class. You turned away to call after him, but Remus’s towering frame stopped you.

You watched him sit next to you with indifferent eyes.

“I heard you had a headache.”

Hearing his voice tingled your inside, but you stayed stone-cold on the outside.

“It was a disturbingly loud class today.”

He let out a chuckle. You liked when he did that, but it was neither the time nor the place to think about that.

“I didn’t notice. I guess constantly being with Sirius and James had made me immune to their hullabaloo.”

“Oh, it wasn’t James and Sirius, don’t worry.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then I must be very caught up in my work.”

You scoffed, trying to sound free from sarcasm. “I doubt that. You and your partner were the loudest ones.”

“Ha, sorry about that,” he said, and you marvelled at his bad social skills one more time. “I asked you a question earlier.”

“What question?”

Your heart may be having a race inside of your ribcage, but you weren’t going to let Remus see it.

“Will you go to Hogsmeade with me?”

“Yeah, sure. I love visiting Hogsmeade with my friends.”

You enjoyed the sight before you; Remus bouncing his leg up and down, averting his eyes around with your every word.

“No. I mean as a date.”

Here was that word, again, placing itself in your mind, mocking every thought you had ever had. It didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right that Remus was asking you out on a date.

“Why?” you asked, without intending to.

“Why?”

You adored Remus’s wrinkled brows and confused face.

“Yeah, why?”

“I’d like to spend time with you?”

“We are spending time.”

“I don’t want to spend time with you as friends. That’s the whole point of a date.”

In the next two seconds, you lost control of your lips, voice and tongue. That could be the only explanation for your reply.

“So you want to spend time not as friends?”

“See, now you’re getting it,” he said with a gentle smile. The wrinkles around his lips captured all your attention, leaving you no choice but to give in.

“Alright. I’ll go on a date with you.”

You didn’t know how the week came by, you had lost all your sense of time. You were sure you got ten points from Potions; you remembered Tom’s complaints about the points not being enough. You were also sure another girl confessed to Remus her feelings, but he refused kindly; you had heard her weep in the bathroom.

It was finally Saturday, and you were dressed up for your…date.

It felt surreal like you were being delusional, which you were sure was not the case. It wasn’t like you didn’t see yourself worthy of a date with Remus, it was that you had convinced your mind and heart that he didn’t see you; that his flirtatious comments and smiles were nothing.

You were standing in the yard, your arms swinging around your waist as you waited for Remus. Several students were also hanging out near the train for Hogsmeade, while others were seated inside. You saw him make his way to you, offering you a genuine smile.

“Did I keep you waiting?”

“Oh, no, I just got here,” you said, shaking your head reassuringly. Your eyes roamed his attire, but the only thing they lingered on was his smile, or lips?

“Moony never keeps anyone waiting!”

You frowned in confusion, watching James get on the train. Sirius and Peter followed him, Sirius saluting you. You turned to Remus, your eyebrows raising.

Was this what he had in mind when he said date? If it was, this was a whole new level of social awkwardness.

Remus chuckled at your expression, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “They are not going to be with us, no need to worry.”

Relief washed over you as you couldn't stop your smile, happy that he wasn’t that awkward.

“I don’t know. You four are like a package deal.”

“Not on dates,” he said, “But I had to get them out of my hair when I told them I was going on a date with you.”

Remus offered you his hand as you got on the train as well, walking ahead to find an available roomette.

“Why? Did they mock?” you asked, curiosity tickling your stomach.

“Of course not. What is there to mock?” oh, so did this mean he wasn’t going on a date for a prank? “They simply teased me for it. You know I don’t do this often.” but on another thought, Remus was too good to take out someone for a prank.

“Ah, yes. Why don’t you, though?”

You two finally found a place to sit, Remus closing the door. He sat before you as you chose to place yourself next to the window. You watched Remus lean in and put his elbows to his knees.

“Why don’t I go on dates?”

“Uh-huh”

“Why should I?”

“Because…” you frowned for a moment, not sure what to say. “I don’t know. I asked the question.”

Remus shrugged, his eyes moving to your lips for a moment. “There’s no one to go with.”

You let out a scoff, followed by a genuine laugh. “Are you kidding? A girl was crying in the bathroom because you refused her this week..”

Remus’s eyes widened, his mouth opening a bit. “She was crying? I thought I turned her down kindly. I even made sure to touch her shoulder and give her a smile.”

You make an amused face at him.

“You keep a manual on how to turn down a girl?”

“Do you really want to talk about other girls on our date? I mean, I am fine with it if that’s what you want, but it's a rather uncommon topic for dates.”

Your heart warmed at his words, but you shrugged, hiding the stars behind your eyes.

“I simply asked a question.”

“No, I usually come up with something at the moment. Why? Do you keep a manual on how to turn down boys?”

“I don’t get love confessions as often as you do.”

“That’s unreasonable.”

“Why?”

“You’re beautiful.”

You didn’t let the pounding in your chest get in the way of your words or your wit. Remus smiled as you started speaking.

“Beauty isn’t everything.”

“That still doesn’t change the fact that you are beautiful.”

“Stop using your irritatingly charming words on me to impress me. It won’t work.”

“That was extremely rude, but I'm glad that you find me charming.”

You arched a brow at his cheeky smile. “I said words, not you.”

“My words represent me.”

You glared at his entertained beam, knowing that you had just let your lips offer the biggest lie you’ve ever said. His words did impress you. They impressed you to the point that your cheeks were on fire, and your palms were sweating. He and his words got you all flustered.

After only a few seconds, you felt the muscles around your mouth create a smile, turning into a burst of laughter after Remus’s consistent beam blazing through you.

“I almost thought you were incapable of laughing,”

“That was just your incompetence at making me laugh.”

The few hours went like seconds as you two enjoyed every corner of Hogsmeade. Remus took you to Madam Puddifoot’s tea shop at first, but you eventually got bored. You wandered around in Honeydukes and almost got kicked out of Zonko’s Joke Shop.

Who would want to buy frog spawn soap when you can get nose-biting cups?

“They are easy to get rid of!” Remus defended his choice, his hands moving around with his every change in tone. “Frogs, on the other hand, are a nightmare! Trust me, I know.”

“Of course you do. You had experience with every item in the shop, it was scary,” you said, moving his hand before your face as you two were walking in the Hogsmeade streets. Who knew Remus Lupin was a gesticulating person?

“Exactly. I am more experienced, So the soap was the better choice.”

“But nose biting hurts more!” you turned to him, your voice getting high-pitched.

“Sweet, innocent girl…” Remus shook his head, stopping in his tracks, “If you want the target person to suffer, you have to hurt them emotionally, not physically. It is torture to try to get rid of all the frogs without hurting them.”

You groaned in annoyance but let Remus put his arm around your shoulder as he chuckled.

“You’ll learn, don’t fret. I am a great teacher.”

By the time it was dark, you had learned that Remus didn’t like fish, and he didn’t have a favourite colour. You also discovered that no matter how much he wanted to seem brave, he didn’t like spiders. You now knew that his hands were soft and gentle, albeit they had small scars on them. You knew it because he was now holding your hand as you two were slowly returning back to the train. You also knew purebloods had a laughable notion of the muggle world.

“Barbies?”

“James thinks only perverts would want to have a small version of a woman in their hands.”

You laughed loudly, closing your eyes. You didn’t see Remus’s long glance at your laugh.

“What about lava lamps?”

“They would probably ask if they can drink it.”

“It does look delicious.”

“It looks like lava.”

“There are people who want to taste lava.”

Remus scoffed, making a face at you. “No, there isn’t.”

When your expression didn’t budge, he nodded firmly. “There is.”

“Yes, there is. What about...can opener? They’ve never used it before, no?”

“Only once. We were trying to open a can of worms, and Sirius pitied the muggles that they had to come up with things like this to open a can.”

“A can of worms? Worms?” you crunched up your face in disgust. “What would you even need it for?”

“For fishing! What else?” Remus was smirking, despite his words. You were smart enough to know the meaning behind the smirk, so you glared at him. He shrugged, “Barty Crouch’s birthday was coming, and the Marauders are kind boys.”

“Aha, you sure are,” You chuckled, nodding several times in sarcasm. “What about eyelash curlers?”

Remus stayed silent for a few seconds. “It curls eyelashes?”

“You don’t know what that is either, don't you?”

“I have no idea.”

You giggled, greeting another boy with your head as you were close to the train. You turned to Remus, opening your eyes wide.

“Look at my lashes,” you pointed at them with your finger, stepping a bit close so Remus could see clearly. “I made them with an eyelash curler.”

Remus narrowed his eyes, leaning in. “They’re just lashes.”

You sighed in disapprovement and pulled back. “For you, maybe. I spend quite some time on their happiness, though.”

“I never do.”

“And yet you have more gorgeous lashes than I do. It’s not fair.

You felt a hand on your chin.

Your heart jumped in your chest when Remus’s fingers turned your head to him, pushing your chin up. You felt anticipation and confusion run in your veins, messing with your heart and mind. Something burst into flames when he leaned in, breathing against your lips.

“What are you–”

“Admiring your lashes,” Remus said, so casual that you almost thought you were delirious for getting jittery and impassioned. “Yours are way more beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you said, grateful that you managed to voice the words. You felt intoxicated by the lack of distance, golden sparkles rushing around your soul.

Your heart took a pace when Remus’s eyes lowered to your lips.

“You’re not looking at my lashes, Remus,” you whispered, offering him a way out. A way out if he decided that he made a mistake, if he thought that he didn’t actually want this.

“I know, I’m admiring your lips now,” he drawled.

His tone erased everything around you from your mind. The people, the street signs, the footsteps and casual laughter among friend groups. You were lost in his voice and taking shelter in that one warm breath that hit your lips.

“Let me kiss you,” he whispered.

The four words poured cold water over your body, lit a fire in your heart, and starved your lips.

You closed your eyes and parted your lips slightly.

“Kiss me.”

You felt Remus’s thumb graze your lower lip, his other hand caressing your hand, intertwining them. You tightened your hold on his hand, pulling yourself closer to him.

He leaned in, his nose on your skin, his lips ready to crash into yours.

“Remus!”

You pushed yourself away, the heat of your cheeks visible under the street lights. Remus frowned, averting his head to the voice. He didn’t let go of your hand, holding it tightly as if he was going to lose you if he did.

You steadied your breathing and heart as the voice walked up to you.

Anger sent white and red flames down in your core, your heart screaming in annoyance when you saw Lacey’s bright smile getting closer and closer. As usual, she wasn’t even looking at you and wasn't acknowledging your feelings.

“Lacey?” Remus asked. You could pick up the complaining tone in his voice.

“What a nice surprise. I thought you weren’t gonna be in Hogsmeade today.”

“I said I was going to be with someone else,” Remus said, his voice kind but firm.

Only then, Lacey glanced at you, her smile growing even more.

“What are you two doing here?”

You didn't reply, knowing that if you did, there was no way you could be kind. Thankfully, Remus did.

“Just hanging out.”

At that moment, you wished that you replied to her. Just hanging out? Like friends? Like mates? The way James hung out with Sirius? The way you hung out with Tom?

You felt annoyance itching your skin, your throat aching from the rude words building up in it. You pushed your hand back from Remus. Of course, Lacey noticed it. Her eyes peeked at your hand for a quick moment; it would be impossible to catch it if you weren’t already glaring at her eyes.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt something…?”

That was the last drop that your patience could hold.

“Is there something you need?” you asked, your manner being the exact opposite of Remus’s.

“Oh…no, actually. I simply wanted to say hi.”

“Well, Hi. Goodbye.”

You were now contemplating if you would be sent to Azkaban were you to strangle the girl.

She smiled, turning back to Remus.

“Your friend must be tired, Remus. You accompany her to the train, I’ll see you later,” she beamed, turning on her heels back to her friend group after earning a nod from Remus.

You started walking, an uncomfortable silence lurking in between your hands. You’re irritated, not only with Lacey but also with Remus. Thus, when he attempted to hold your hand again, you didn’t let him.

You didn’t acknowledge any of his attempts to get you to talk or react until you were sitting face-to-face in a roomette on the train.

“I thought this was a date,” you broke the silence at last, alerting Remus’s focus in a second.

“It is, dove–”

“Then, why didn’t you say that to her?”

“To whom? Lacey?” Remus asked, his eyes confused and his voice surprised.

“Who else?”

“Because it is…none of her business?”

“What?” your brows drew together in annoyance. “Remus, are you blind?”

“No?”

“She likes you!”

Remus scoffed, shaking his head several times. He leaned back to his heat, a mocking smile greeting you on his lips.

“She doesn’t. I would know if she did.”

“Remus, she can’t be any more obvious.”

“No, dove. She’s just a partner.”

“She just interrupted us when we were in the middle of something!” you threw hands, trying your best to make him understand.

“Yes, but-” Remus started but shut his lips for a moment to think. He exhaled. “I would know if she did.”

“And how do you know it exactly?”

“When I get a confession?”

You groaned in your seat, turning to observe the road from the window instead. You marvelled at his communication skill. It made your blood boil, all while confusing you about what kind of words you should choose to speak to him.

“Are you angry with me?”

“Why did you ask me out on a date?” you blurted out, determined to get what you wanted from him this time. This time you weren’t going to let his social ineptness and bad charm with words prevent you from him. “You said you didn't go on dates often, so why did you go with me?”

Remus’s forehead wrinkled, his mouth readying to talk. When he did, his tone was like he was speaking the most obvious truth, the most casual conversation. You, on the other hand, felt like he was opening the locked door to your mind, welcoming the warmth in your heart.

“Because I fancy you.”

You let his words’ affection embrace you, relieving your every troubled thought, reviving your every buried hope.

“You fancy me?”

“Wasn’t that obvious? I was always smiling at you, trying to talk to you, flirting with you, hopping in every opportunity where I could have you close.”

You smiled at him, butterflies invading your stomach. “You didn’t confess, though.”

“Yes, I know–” Remus stopped himself, his words coming to a halt. Something lit up in his eyes, his expression changing into realisation. “Oh, I see.”

You chuckled to yourself, waiting for him to get everything together.

“Maybe she wasn’t just a partner, after all,” he whispered, still taking something in.

“For someone who holds all of Gryffindor's hearts, you sure are a bit of an idiot.”

Remus’s eyes changed, his brown darkening, his voice lowering. “You’re wrong.”

“What?��

“I don’t want all of Gryffindor’s hearts,“ He leaned in closer, holding your hands. “I want yours.”

The walls of your heart crumbled down, opening their gates to his smile, voice, touch. His affection sneaked into the darkest parts of your mind, soothed the strongest fires in your soul. You let all the voices disappear, trusting your heart to only Remus’s words.

“Remus…” you smiled, your eyes lowering at your linked hands. “But you already have it.”

Before you could grasp the emptiness in your hands, you felt Remus’s hands on your face. They pulled you in, letting Remus put his lips on yours.

Your lips burned up at the feeling of his lips, your breath taken away from your lungs. His touch both killed you and revived you, both burning you up and drowning you down.

A few seconds were enough for you to return the kiss, devouring his soft and warm lips. You felt his hands go down from your face to your arms, tracing all the way back to your fingers. Goosebumps rose from your body, contrasting your cold fingers with your on-fire chest.

All your jealousy, anxiety, insecurity left your mind, body, soul as Remus smiled against your lips, breaking the kiss only to put his forehead on yours.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask for you to let me kiss you this time.”

“There is no explanation you can give that will convince me,” James shook his head, taking a bite from a sandwich he had stolen from the kitchen. “There is no way a normal person enjoys having a small body in their hand.”

“Little children play with it, Potter,” you said, smiling at the sound of Remus’s laugh above your ears. You, your boyfriend and his friends were scattered across the Gryffindor common room, conversing about Barbie dolls.

Remus had you under his arm, your head placed on his chest. You could feel his occasional kisses on your hair or the way he would lean his cheek on your head. You weren’t complaining, you enjoyed having him close.

“They even play with them?!”

“I will get you a Barbie doll on your birthday, Prongs,” Sirius said.

“You can’t even find your way in Trafalgar Square.”

“That’s only because there are a lot of muggles there, Wormtail.”

You smiled at your situation, listening to the boys banter about something that you didn’t remember anymore.

You were happy. Remus had made sure that you were happy for the last week since your kiss. You smiled at the memory of him bringing you food, helping you with your homework, and staying late with you because you didn’t feel like sleeping. He had put a distance between himself and Lacey. You loved her face when Remus stepped back so she wouldn’t hug her.

“What’re you thinking about?” Remus whispered in your ear, making you smile with affection at him. You raised your head to him, watching his messy brown locks hug his forehead.

“You look nice today.”

He grinned, bringing his hand from your stomach to your chin. He put a sweet but longing kiss on your lips before making use of his voice. “You look nice every day.”

I have no idea if this is ooc Remus, but I don't think it is. Let me know if it is.

Thank you for reading! Please share your thoughts so I know if I did a good or not.

Anyways. Stay safe, love you guys <3

and if you liked my writing, i would be grateful if you'd buy me a coffee <33

#remus lupin #remus x reader #remus lupin x you #remus x you #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin smut #andrew garfield #the marauders #sirius black #james potter #harry potter #taylor swift #remus lupin scenario #remus lupin supremacy

1K notes · View notes

lovelettersforthedamned · 3 months

Note

https://www.tiktok.com/@iamsmexi/video/7253633823198498090

trying to convince frat!peter that you arent drunk when you very much are -🎀

Miss. Mind Reader

--genre: sfw, fluff!!!!

--pairing: frat!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 0.8k

--warnings: mentions of alcohol, reader is drunk, mention of sexual activities (does not happen), reader is silly and drunk and wants to prove peter wrong (but fails).

oh frat!peter, how i've missed you...

--gif credits: @juliaroleplays

Your head was swirling, but not in the way that makes you want to throw up, not yet at least. The bass of the music bumps throughout your body, making you sway messily to the beat. With your drink in his hand, Peter carries a casual conversation with a few of his brothers. He’s not really listening, he nods carelessly as he pretends to listen. His real focus is on you. He knows that you’re able to take care of yourself in this state, that’s not what he’s thinking about. Peter’s mesmerized by the sight of you, dancing, carefree, and definitely drunk.

It’s the moment that you trip over your own feet when he decides to excuse himself from the group. A couple of ‘excuse me’s and some weaving around the crowd later, he finally makes his way right behind you. You are too distracted to notice Peter’s presence until you feel a hand slide around your waist, making you jump. “Hey! Why is your–,” your anger fizzles out as soon as you see whose hand is around you.

Peter lowers his head to your ear, speaking loud enough to make sure you heard him, “You ready to head out, bug?”

“Yeah, just give me a second,” you yell back, unaware of your volume, “I wanna get one more drink before we leave!”

“Yeah, no. You’re already plastered, babe. One more drink and you’re going to be face down on the front lawn in an hour, I guarantee it.”

Peter doesn’t even give you time to respond before he holds your hand and guides you out of the crowded room. He almost makes it out of the house before another one of his brothers calls out from the stairs, “Hey Pete! You coming back later?”

He pulls you into his side, keeping you stable as you’ve begun to rock back and forth, “I need to make sure she’s alright, so I’m going to stay the night. I’ll see you at class tomorrow.” Peter opens the door with a thumbs up from his brother on the stairs he leads you outside.

The cool night air hits you and causes a chill to run up your arms, making you nuzzle into Peter’s side. You’re still walking funny, but you’re trying to hide it to the best of your capabilities. You think you’re doing a good job, but as Peter looks down at you, he can’t help but laugh. “Are you feeling alright, bug?”

You clear your throat and fix your posture before you respond, “I’m fine Peter. Why do you ask?” You’ve stopped leaning into him, your posture is stuck straight as you toddle towards your apartment. “I’m not drunk if that’s what you’re asking,” your voice is almost robotic as you talk. If Peter wasn’t sure that you were drunk already, that last sentence really tied it all together.

You two slowly but surely make your way up the stairs of your building, Peter mostly behind you with a hand on your back to ensure you don’t fall backward. As soon as you reach your door, Peter sticks his hand in his pocket to grab your keys. Since the beginning of your relationship, Peter has always held your stuff for you, especially when you’re planning on drinking.

As Peter was about to put the key into the lock, you smack them out of his hand, “If I was drunk, would I be able to do that?”

Peter, standing there completely dumbfounded at what you just did, responds, “Do what?”

You’re in a fighting position, your hands curled into fists as you slur your words, “I was able to sense what your next move was. My mind knows exactly what is going to happen, baby. I’m psychic!”

“Mhm, okay miss. mind reader,” he bends down to pick up the keys off of the floor, “what’s going to happen when we walk through the door?”

You think for a second as Peter twists the key, waiting for your response to fully open the door. He looks at you with a smirk, awaiting your answer. You smirk as you finally find it, wrapping your arms around his torso, “So should I undress right now, or should you?”

“Yeah okay,” he kisses the crown of your head as he pushes open the door, “I was planning on going straight to bed, bug, but you’ll get me next time.”

And just like that, his response flies over your head as you’re smushed against his hold, his touch suddenly becoming extremely comfortable. As you stumble into your apartment, Peter knows that you’ve officially reached the point of intoxication to where you’re extremely sleepy.

The rest of the night is slow. You’re already tucked in bed with a pair of pajama pants and one of Peter’s shirts when he starts taking off your makeup, a glass of water, and Advil on the dresser next to you when you’re completely out. It’s nearly two in the morning when Peter slips into bed beside you. He’s not going to class tomorrow.

--author's note: FRAT!PETER IS SO BACK!!!! also, writing him comes so easy and i love him so much. another hit from 🎀 anon!!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and your fav writers! my asks/inbox is open for requests, or if you just wanna chat!! ok, ily bye<33333

#fluff #marvel #peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #frat!peter parker #frat!peter #frat!peter parker x f!reader #tasm!peter parker #college au #spiderman #peter parker

183 notes · View notes

gingerjolover · 6 months

Text

Ariana! What are you doing here? - Julien Baker x fem!reader

Synopsis: soft!gf is doing jb's makeup on halloween and she just can't sit still (hc, soft!gf is pete 😭)

G's notes: okay like always, a bunch of requests combined! also had to throw in some switch!julien for y'all, she's a natl treasure

wc: somewhere around 1k (probs like 980)

warnings: RPF, makeup!julien, ariana grande!julien, subby!julien, soft!gf as pete, smutty-ish talk, no fundamental physical descriptors?

"You're going to poke my fucking eye out, princess," Julien grumbles, moving her head away quickly, her lips in an annoyed frown.

"Are you this difficult for the makeup artists working on photoshoots, or just for me?" you reply sassily, two fingers under Julien's chin, lifting her head up.

"Don't be a baby JB," Lucy says through the phone. Julien stares at the phone on the bathroom counter to her left, glaring at it as if Lucy could see her expression.

"Are you guys almost ready? We'll be there in like 10," Phoebe's voice carries through the phone.

"If Jay stops wiggling and actually lets me do their wings, we'll be ready by the time you get here," you grumble, causing Julien to pout.

"You're going to poke my eye out!"

"Baby, I do this all the time; I'm not gonna poke your eye out," you say, exasperated.

"We'll be there in 10, and then we'll pin her down," Lucy teases, Julien shaking her head quickly.

"No you will do no such thing, I'll-I'll stay still, I swear," Julien promises, staring straight at you, eyes softening when she makes direct eye contact. You smile softly, index finger and thumb gripping her chin as you pull her into a kiss; it's a small kiss but one you've put all of your gratefulness and adoration into. Julien feels it as you pull away; she knows how badly you want to make this costume work. Originally, she was stoked...when she thought she was going to be Pete... but the way your eyes looked up at her, smile so big when you had a plan where she was Ariana, how could she say no?

You're staring at her, a crooked smile on your face when you see her lost in thought. "I'm being still baby, just...get it over with, quickly," she grumbles again. You giggle loudly, holding her cheeks and jaw, very carefully (and expertly), drawing cute little wings on her eyes.

"Julien's being quiet which either means baby's killed her or she's finally sitting still," Phoebe snickers along with Lucy.

"Shut up, I can't move," Julien grits out, impossibly still.

Lucy and Phoebe laugh loudly on the other line, your giggles soft but matching theirs. "Don't laugh when you have that shit near my eye," Julien exclaims as you step back, looking at her face. Seeing Julien with makeup always throws you through a loop. "You look pretty," you murmur, Julien's face flushing instantly.

"Blegh," Phoebe gags over the phone.

"Shut up," Julien nags.

You grab the comb to start fixing her baby hairs, Julien's hair already fitted with extensions and a ponytail, a massive sweatshirt on her body. It's like she forgot the previous conversation because she can't stop squirming.

"Julien, sit still!" "My hair feels like 8,000 pounds, babe, my fucking neck hurts!"

"Listening to this is tortuous, you know?" Lucy comments, tone even, you giggle imagining her and Phoebe's deadpan faces.

"How did you guys get on with your costumes? Luce did you find some heels?" you ask, giving Julien a look, asking Lucy to speak almost as a distraction while you hold your girlfriend's head.

Lucy starts to talk about her journey to finding specific parts of her costume, Phoebe interjecting a few times. Julien squirms when you gel down her baby hairs.

You grab her chin, giving her a stern look, leaning into her ear. "Stop moving or you can forget about fucking me tonight, let me finish this," you sneer, voice unusually dominant. You pull back, Julien's eyes are wide, mouth parted open. You look at her with mocking wide eyes, a quick shake of your head as if to say "are we clear?".

"Yes, ma'am," Julien murmurs, both of your voices quiet enough not to be heard on the other line.

"Well, I'm glad you found them thrifting Luce. I feel like you got really lucky," you say sweetly, your voice returning to its soft tone. Julien feels like she has whiplash, her entire body heating up. First, how did you even hear what Lucy was saying? And second, why did you threatening her make her sweat? She clenches her thighs together, keeping her body as stiff as a board until you spray her hair with hairspray and clip in some barrettes.

"Okay, we are like 5 minutes away, so we'll see you?" Lucy asks.

"I'm coming in to use the bathroom," Phoebe says quickly.

"No problem, doors unlocked, see y'all soon," you say sweetly before hanging up, leaving Julien sitting on the bathroom counter as you go to grab her heeled boots.

Julien sits there stunned, watching you in the track pants and big t-shirt, hair up, big flannel swallowing your body. You come back, kneeling down in front of her, unzipping the heel.

"What?" you ask, eyes looking up at her. She can feel her insides stir, hating that all you have to do is look up at her for her briefs to be soaked.

"Nothing, I'm being still," Julien says cautiously, pausing between each word as if she's never spoken before. The threat of not ending the night between your thighs enough to keep her still and quiet.

You scoff softly, shaking your head as you get her feet into the boots. You hold out your hands, helping her hop down, letting her get used to standing taller. You start to clean up behind her, her hands in the sleeves of the sweatshirt.

"I was really still there, at the end...I-I did really good," she says, almost like she's trying to convince the both of you.

"Oh, you were being good? Is that what being good is?" you say, throwing words she's said to you before back at her. Her eyes widen again, almost comically, jaw dropping softly.

You turn around, giggling, your usually dominant girlfriend absolutely dumbfounded. "Your makeup looks pretty," you murmur, kissing her lips softly. She eagerly presses herself against you, chasing your lips. You laugh as you pull away, wiping her lips with your thumb. "Maybe if you're good tonight, I'll ruin it later."

#anon cutie requested #julien baker x reader #julien baker mini fic #boygenius x reader #boygenius mini fic #ariana grande!julien #julien lowkey a switch tho #we got subby!jules tonight yippeeee #soft!gf can be a dom if she wants to be #wait i kinda feel back on my game #i like this one <3

210 notes · View notes

lightwing-s · 11 months

Note

saw your post about peter blurbs and i had to send an ask🤭🤭

imagine peter being protective at the royal balls even though you two aren’t official🤞🏻🤞🏻

he keeps an eye on you while you talk to princes from other kingdoms and while he’s stood next to you he keeps a hand around you waist omg i’m gonna pass out and susan notices and points out his behaviour making you both blush cuz your just friends right😧😧

sorry that was pretty long omg but PETER😍🤞🏻♥️🤭🫶🏻😘

If anyone asked if you preferred to fight three hundred soldiers on your own or attend a royal ball, without thinking twice, you’d pick the first option. There was nothing in this world that could make you more nervous, more anxious and scared than a ball room full of people ready to judge you for every small detail, from your hair to your shoes, and the way you speak and if you’re proper while eating and referring to the many royals in the room.

You hated it, and couldn’t count the many times you sneaked out of a ball feeling your heart beating furiously and your sight getting blurring. The many times you had a panic attack for one interaction and Peter had to rush behind you to make sure you were okay.

And Peter was the sweetest. He’d sit with you for how goddamn long you needed to settle down your heart and mind, and he’d walk you to your chambers, tuck you in bed and kiss you goodnight before heading back to his High King duties. You were surprised it had been taking this long for people to figure out you two were more than just friends, but you were glad to still have your relationship just for the two of you.

In those few months you saw your friendship grow to be something more, you appreciated every moment you’d have just Y/n and Pete. No duties, no titles, just you. But if you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him, that meant getting used to balls, to festivals, to royal duties and diplomatic meetings. If he wanted you as his queen, which he’d constantly remind you with kisses and touches how much he’d want it, you had to get used to all of it.

Hence, there you stood on your own, talking with the prince of Archenland while your dress weighed you down, sitting tight around your body and making it difficult for you to breathe. Another two nobles joined in your conversation, and you started to breathe a lot faster, feeling your heartbeat join in on the speed race.

Suddenly, a warm hand sat on your waist, Peter's strong and imposing presence making itself known behind you. He looked you deep in your eyes, full of concern over you, sky blue boring into yours and a heavy dose of tranquillisers. Lowering his chin, he checked to see if you were alright, for which you gave him a soft smile, masking your nervousness to not freak him out.

For the longest time, Peter’s hand never left your waist, thumb caressing you through your dress. He held you too close, not that you would complain, but you knew it’d raise suspicion.

As your heartbeat had gone back to normal, your hand went to your waist, touching ever so slightly the tips of his fingers as a thank you for his presence.

“You did well, my love” he complimented you once you’re finally left alone, pulling you slightly closer.

“I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t arrived in time. I was about to freak out when he started talking about politics and trade.” Peter blew out a breathy laugh, hiding behind your head and sneaking it a kiss. Lowering himself a bit, he whispers in your ear.

“You’re going to make a great queen someday.” sneaking a glance at his handsome face, adorned with his heavy golden crown, you threw him a smile when you saw him playing on his face, a warmth climbing up your cheeks as his hand climbed a bit higher to rest just under your breasts.

“If you want to hide in a ball I suggest you do more than staying on the side.” Susan warned you as she appeared at your side. “You’re not doing your best at being discreet.” she said, glancing swiftly at where your hands met. “Peter, I guess the King wants to talk to you right at this moment.”

Noticing his sister’s insistent tone, he dismissed himself with a wave of the head and left you too alone, the place where his hands had been resting on your body feeling hollow with the sudden lack of warmth.

“I’m not sure what’s going on between you two, but I support it.” she whispered, pushing you playfully with her shoulder. “Tonight, in your room, for the full details?”

A large smile growing in your face, you nod your head, excited to finally share with her your love story

a/n: i’m so excited to finally be writing for peter, keep sending in more x

#peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie x reader #peter pevensie fluff #peter pevensie blurb #peter pevensie #narnia imagine

425 notes · View notes

bowieandqueen11 · 6 months

Text

Fickle Bird / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: Would you be willing to do another spicy Izzy hands x reader ? Loved your previous stories!!

Thank you so much!! I'm always happy to see how much people enjoying reading for Izzy :) Assigned babygirl by the fandom and I am here for it,

Warning: This is smutty as heck, so 18+ only please!!! Sexual biting, sexual allusions and strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @unwanted-animal.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Izzy Hands was becoming irritatingly querulous.

It had taken him far too many hours of laboriously hard work to finally pull you away from your crewmates. Every time you turned your head, he had been right there behind you. Doing his best to throw you sad eyes, hanging his head and ostentatiously ducking out of your line of vision as if he were plagued by tenebrous shrouds. He had tugged at your collar while Stede Bonnet's crew were idly mulling around, pretending to do their assigned chores on deck; he had done his best to subtly lead you away from Lucius, growing more and more irritated by each passing second you ignored his advances and continued your conversation.

He had wrapped his arms around your waist, jutting his chin into your shoulder as you did your best to shake him off and clear up your friend's dinner plates with Roach. Even though a sharp jab at his ribs got him to take a sheepish step back. running a glove through his hair to slick it back with an imperceptible look bored into the side of your cheek, you did your best to ignore the phantom chills of his stout fingers caressing carelessly over your stomach.

By the end of the night, he was two seconds away from hauling you over his shoulder and throwing the two of you into the ball room; as clouds steamed out of his ears, the visualisation of slamming the door shut with the heel of his boot and taking you right there and then, with stupid Lucius Spriggs being able to hear, was getting far too enticing.

Israel Hands had always been flighty. Impatient. Agitated, when it came to you. You had always known him to be: ever since your tenure on the great Captain Blackbeard's vessel almost five years ago now, Izzy had been protective over you and your relationship. Fear bore jealousy: a heart-breaking self-conscious disposition masked behind layers of seething hardness spawned only the animosity of Stede Bonnet's crew, and served to hinder his plans all the more.

As much as you did enjoy teasing the man, you knew that even he had his limit.

Which is how you found yourself nearly flown, well, more like catapulted to the other side of the beach during one of Bonnet's 'stupid fucking dilly-dallies around the poncy parts of Tangerine Cove', as your ever sweet significant other had put it. Before Buttons could even step foot on the shore: before Lucius could even settle down underneath a palm tree to sketch Black Pete, who had carefully positioned his near naked body to be splayed out against the foamy bubbles like a starfish, before Frenchie had even managed to haul the rest of Wee John's gunpowder out onto the strand, Izzy hand taken your hand tightly in his, his grip ready to pop your fingers like sea grapes.

You only laughed as the two of you ran, kicking sand across your feet as you scurried after him and towards an incredibly conspicuous, raggedy looking wall of orange lichen eaten stones placed as a make-shift border between the stretches of beach. Izzy didn't say a word. Instead he almost seemed to glide in front of you, as if beaks were pecking at his feet, threatening to perch upon a bough in his heart and thrum; he knew, if he couldn't make it behind these stones right now, his frail soul was about to snap under the weight of it all.

The intensity of his gaze as he helped you step over the ring was enough to take your breath away.

He sinks to his knees before you, wasting no time in knocking you to the scything sand; his hand splays out against your stomach and pushes you gruffly, until you've fallen onto your bottom and he has easy access to your legs. He whimpers as he hitches them up, frantically lining your ankles with wet kisses and hot, open-mouthed bruises as he wraps them around his neck. His hands are soft, so tender, yet they claw into your skin as he begins to knead the muscles of your calves. You can feel him inch closer and closer - his hands winding down your inner thighs until they're resting on your inner legs, thumbs tantalisingly close to stroking your panty line.

'Is this alright... sweetheart', he asks breathlessly, pressing his fingers down into the meat of your hips until his full weight his almost exclusively leaning against your stomach. He leans forward to nip against your mouth.

'Hmm- hmph', you jolt as you feel Izzy guide his hand further down towards your growing heat. 'Oh god yes. I swear, I was about to explode on that ship. As much as I appreciate the new company, especially with how cranky Edward has been recently, it's so hard between the two crews merging and escaping the English to find a moment alone.'

'Says the little tease. 'Oh Lucius, you're so funny, and I love your hair. And you're such a great drawer. You should draw me some time, and we should skip off into the sunset'-'

The back of his head is suddenly jolted up as you grasp onto the strands of hair near his crown. His mouth shudders at the feeling, opening and closing like a blubbering fish. Like a swallow caught in a trap. You graze your fingernails down to the nape of his neck apologetically, not before chiding him with a humoured 'jealousy has never suited you, Israel Hands. Now shut up and put that mouth to better use, before I go take Pete's place.'

He growls at you, baring his teeth, but you can tell by the way he gets straight to work that he takes your jesting as light-hearted. He lets the words wash over his head: right now, he was busy burying himself within you; his nose glides across the pulse point jittering through your neck, his eyes heavy and lidded as he barely breaths. Barely moves.

The little flirt. He was trying to get his own back.

He just rests there, just lets you shiver under the short pants that roll off his tongue and fan out across your collar bone, his teeth daring to dart out every so often and graze across the skin by your earlobe. His lips continue their ghostly ravishing, finally coming to a stop by cautiously hovering over your racing heartbeat.

You were getting far too impatient. The feel of your hands scrambling down to tug at his thigh holster would almost had made him laugh, if it hadn't been for the fortuitous brush of the side of your palm against his growing bulge.

But two can play at that game. You almost want to scream when he cocks his head up to throw you a shit-eating grin, before the flat part of his tongue licks out to swirl against the top of your left bosom.

'If you don't- hmph- if you don't stop, someone is going to catch u-oh-'. Your reprimands were astutely silenced by Izzy with a teasingly light stroke of his pointer and middle finger down the thin material covering your groin. He made sure to drag his thumb behind, digging in against the material a little harsher with it, until you could almost feel the rugged tip of his fingernail inside you.

'Oh, fuck off. If you're any louder, even the fucking sirens will start popping up to see what that... titillating sound is.'

If Izzy wasn't too busy running the flat edge of his tongue up the seam of your inner leg, you would have had half a mind to shove him off you right there and then.

'Stop complaining.'

He drags his thumb along his lips before popping it in his mouth, sucking at the leather. His eyes never leave yours as his teeth clench into the material, tugging it off and throwing it blindly behind his back. The feeling of the coarse pad being suddenly replaced by a warm, firm fingertip against the outside of your folds was enough to make you buck your hips up in wild euphoria.

This man. He was going to drive you absolutely mad.

'Even I didn't think you were such a squirmy little thing', he states with a calculated grin. 'Didn't take much for you to fall apart in front of me, now, did it? Never does though, to be fair.'

'Oh, you're one to talk. One more - mmph- one more sad look in my direction and I would have pinned you to the floor in front of Bonnet's crew. You're proper needy, aren't you? Couldn't- couldn't wait- couldn't stop begging-'

He was far too impertinent for your persiflage. God, how he had wanted this-how he had wanted you for far longer than his dogged soul was willing to admit. It had near driven him to that sweet, twilight chasm of madness: sent him tumbling over the edge until he was near plagued, near driven to his knees to beg for forgiveness for his loving sin at your placating shrine. He was almost about to burn with embarrassment, but Israel Hands was too far gone to care.

Instead, he swallows thickly before taking your hand, cupping it around his neck. Then he whimpers, and the two of you are really in it then.

'I would let you fucking wreck me, you know that?', he chokes out from behind gritted teeth, trying to stop the pulsating feeling aching in the pit of his stomach.

'Sweet man', you reach up to brush his cheek with your free hand, and he almost recoils at the touch. 'You're safe with me Iz. Always. You don't have to hide what you want.'

He cups his fingers over your own: he can barely stop them from contracting over your knuckles as he throws his head back to the heavens and closes his eyes in contentment. His body starts squirming then, the heat from your fingertips making every nerve ending down the back of his spine alight, and he can't help - doesn't want to stop the way he starts rocking his hips back and forth across your legs. The lust seems to be radiating off his glowing cheeks as he furrows his eyebrows in blissful agony.

He drags his free hand down your arm until he reaches the scabbard to the right of his stomach. You poke the inside of your lip with your tongue, watching the sharp edge slice across the air to be placed, with a precision only wrought with a extensive practice, to lay underneath the cold metal bravely guarding your chest. With a quick whip of his wrist, off your blouse went: the first button soared through the air without Izzy needing to even open his eyes. But as he peeked one open and saw the line of tantalising skin grow wider down your rising breast, all semblance of restrained self-mastery fled from his brain.

The rest were ripped open by a clenched glove. You were surprised none of the rest of the crew popped their heads up at the sound: the rip of cotton material being shredded straight across your jiggling bosoms, your buttons flying off like mini cannonballs being struck into the unsuspecting shifts of sand.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing how your legs imperceptivity clenched together at the way he subconsciously wet his bottom lip, his nose scrunching up as he nearly snarled at the sight of the unhampered skin freed from your tight blouse.

He's voracious as he bites down like a starved stray and pierces the edge of your right breast with his front teeth. The faint sunlight blinds your eyes and makes you see pockets of stars as he begins sucking like his very soul depended on it, burying his head right in line with your sternum.

Wanting to return the favour, you let your free hands wander down. Hiking up the fringes of his shirt, you let your hands wander over the taut muscles of his abdomen, smiling to yourself as you feel goose bumps prick up to meet your cool palms. Izzy pants against your nipple, which in turn makes it harden as his hot breath breezes past. Giving you an idea, you run your hand up past the fine silver hairs of Izzy's happy trail, to experimentally roll the pad of your thumb over the man's left nipple.

What you weren't expecting, however, was for him to collapse on top of you.

The groan that muffled out past the fist he tried to shove into his mouth was inhuman. Was damn sinful. All he can do while he lets the overpowering rush of desire coarse through his veins is to quieten the sound with your awaiting lips; he's trembling against you, and so you reassure him with a languid massage of your tongue against his own. His hand tried to flail away as he finally feels you probe around his teeth, but you catch it easily, pressing it firmly against your fluttering heart. With a final tug, you finally manage to stumble your way through the loops of his trouser buttons.

His hips judder forward until he prods awkwardly against the bottom of your abdomen, leaving a slick wetness smeared against the buckle of your belt. He grimaces, a thin line of saliva glistening between you as he pulls his head back to look down at the disturbance. His nostrils flare as he buries his hands into two clefts in the rocks either side of your head, and does his best to try and control the painful contortions of his face. A low whistle still manages to catch in the back of his throat as he gazes down at the milky seepage he has left behind, running in smooth drips down your bellybutton and smearing it with each jolt of your desperate hips against his, further and further down against your hip line. The muscles in his face fall as if he were in a trance: as if he were a man possessed.

'I-I care for you. You know that.' He can barely meet your eye in fear that you'd be repulsed by the sweetness - by the fondness that has flooded through them, feeling the gilded shadows that veiled his sight begin to lift.

You reach up and let your pointer finger gingerly trace over the outline of the swallow tattoo inked into the side of his neck. 'I know. I love you too, Israel Hands.'

God, you were going to be the end of him. And if he weren't so blinded by it, he would have been more than satisfied to sink into the depths of oblivion with you seared into his irises: the last mirage, the last vision of a life he had could never have. Of a love he had not earnt.

But he was stubborn, and his talons refused to stop clinging onto hope.

It must have been quite a sight: the perched rocks quaking as something pounded sloppily against them, the cacophony of breathless, gasping whines as your clawed hand tried to reach back and hold desperately onto the sharp jags above your head.

'Should we... should we do something about that?', Roach asks, looking quizzically around at his friends and dropping the stick he had been chasing the Swede around with a moment before onto the beach.

Lucius, squints his eyes warily, and shakes his head in disgust. 'Nah. I'm leaving that one for the Captain to handle.'

'I think he's too busy getting his own, uh, stuff handled by Blackbeard', Jim pipes in, doing their best to hide their roguish smile as the sound of you screaming Izzy's name grew louder and louder, no matter how well you were trying to stifle it by shoving your mouth into his shoulder blade and biting down, and no matter how well Izzy was drowning it out with the harshness of his own grunts.

'Actually', Lucius thumps the end of his pencil against his chin and begins to grin menacingly. 'This might come in very useful. Looks like Dizzy Izzy, or should I say Izzy the Rasper won't be making poor old Lucius scrub anything else while he's on board.'

248 notes · View notes

topazy · 26 days

Text

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood and violence

Chapter: 6.01

You try your best to pay no mind to those staring while you explore the different streets of Alexandria. Carl doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes Judith in her pram, or if he does, he doesn't let on. The first few weeks in your new home have been hard on everyone. Noah was dead. While on a supply run, he was torn to shreds by walkers. A few others had died, including Jessie’s husband Pete, whom Rick shot for killing Deanna’s husband, which resulted in your group getting the cold shoulder from a lot of people who had lived in Alexandria since the beginning, and they no longer thought your people belonged in their home.

“I’m glad Maggie isn’t making you go anymore.”

Since Carl was no longer going to ‘school' Maggie said you didn’t need to either, on the condition you help out with different chores, one of them being looking after Judith. “Me too,” you say, leaning down and tickling the baby’s cheek. “It means I get to hang out with my favorite girl.”

“Carl, Hope.”

You turn to see Father Gabriel walking over. Maggie had overheard him telling Deanna that your people were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed in the community a few nights prior, so it was surprising he would speak to any of you.

Carl’s tone is sharp. “What?”

“You heard what I told Deanna about your group.”

“What is it you want?” You ask.

“It was about me, not you or your group. I know that now.” Gabriel admits, “I want to help. You tried to reach me back at my church, but I’m ready to learn now.”

“I think you need to tell everybody.”

The older man’s eyes gloss over slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Carl starts to push the pram again, but strops and sighs. “Come by around three. We’ll start with the machete.”

When Gabriel is out of earshot, you say, “That was nice of you.”

He shrugs, “Suppose we gotta keep being nice to each other since we are all going to be living together. Besides, I think he’s still struggling with what happened at his church.”

You smile softly. Carl has always remained kind to others, even when he’s angry. “Yeah, I think you're right.”

—

“Hope, Hope!”

Hearing your name being called, followed by a thumping noise coming from the bathroom door, you turn off the water and go to step out, but slip on the shower, stubbing your toes on it and letting out a string of curse words.

The banging continues. “Hope! Hope! You need to get out of there now!”

Hearing the urgency in Carl’s voice, you grab a towel, and you step behind the door and open it a crack to hear him say, “What’s going on?”

“We are being attacked; you gotta help me keep Judith and Enid safe.”

The fear in his voice causes your heart to start beating faster and faster. Scrambling, you start pulling clothes on, doing your best to ignore the blood coming from your toe. When you open the door, you see Carl looking towards the staircase, directly at the front door, one hand tightly wrapped around his gun. Hearing you flinch while putting shoes on, his gaze jumps between you and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying your best not to whine in pain as you tie the laces on the dirty, worn-out white converse. “Who’s attacking us?”

“I’m not sure. They climbed the wall and just started killing people. Enid saw a man kill Shelly with a machete. They are worse than the dead.”

A large part of your new community, including Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Abraham, had left Alexandria to lead a herd of walkers away, meaning you were lacking fighters to defend your home. At least you still had Carol, Rosita, Maggie...

“God, Maggie!” You hold onto the banister and pull yourself up. “I need to find her.”

“You can’t go out there; it’s not safe.”

“But she’s my sister.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I can’t lose her too! I’ve just lost Beth; I can’t, I can’t.”

Attempting to comfort you, Carl holds you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Maggie is one of the strongest people I know; she will make it. I promise.”

You knew Carl couldn’t promise you that, but you needed to pull it together because right now nothing was more important than keeping Judith safe. You wipe away a fallen tear. “Okay, let’s do this.”

—

When you went downstairs, Enid informed you that the group invading Alexandria was called the Wolves. It wasn’t clear what they actually wanted; some members of the Wolves were looting houses, and the others were tossing petrol bombs and destroying everything they could.

Sitting back to back in the hallway, watching the front and back doors while Enid kept an eye from upstairs, Judith slept blissfully unaware of all the chaos going on in her crib.

Hearing a loud noise, you flinch. “What was that?”

“It sounds like a car horn.”

You chew on your bottom lips, and the blast of the horn would draw any nearby dead to the scene. “This is just going to keep getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No, my dad will be back soon, along with everybody else, and we will all be fine.”

You let out a deep sigh. You didn’t want to be so negative, but the fear of something bad happening to those you loved weighed heavily on you. Slowly, you look away from the back door and face Carl’s head. A few seconds pass before you lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

He blushes, and you return to watching the back door. You’re unsure of how long you will wait for something to happen when Carl jumps to his feet and runs out of the front door.

You catch a glimpse of a wolf chasing Ron. Just as you reach the front door, Carl shoots the man in the leg and aims his gun at him, but the wolf tearfully starts begging for his life and for help with his leg. You watch in horror as Carl hesitantly lowers his weapon, and the wolf viciously grabs the barrel of his gun. You sprint to them and pull the trigger, shooting the man in the head.

You just killed someone.

You offer Carl your hand and help pull him to his feet. “Oh shit, your foot.”

You look down and see blood soaking through your shoe. Gulping down, you say. “It’s fine. Ron, you need to come inside with us now.”

“Come on, man, it’s not safe out here.”

Ron thinks it over as you go back towards the house, with a slight limp in your step, and Ron goes to follow but spots Enid in the doorway and storms off.

—

Carol came by to check on you, Carl, and Judith. She informed you that they had taken one of the men prisoner, but the rest of his group had either run off or been killed. You were even more thankful when she told you your sister was fine.

“Thank God,” you say sincerely.

Carol smiles at you and says, “I’m glad you kids are alright. I’m going to go let Maggie know you are here; she was looking for you.”

Just as she leaves, Carl comes back into the room with a first-aid kit in one hand and a note in the other. “Enid’s gone; she left a note sharing, ‘Just survive somehow.’”

He sits on the edge of the couch. You go to grab the first-aid bag from him, but Carl keeps a tight hold of it. You roll your eyes playfully at him and say, “I can do it myself.”

Carl gives you a doubtful look. “You won’t do it right because you’ll not want it to hurt.”

He had a point.

After you were sure there was no more immediate danger, you removed your shoe and sock to assess the damage you had done coming out of the shower, and to your disgust, one of your toes had bruises and was swollen, and one of the nails had split, causing the bleeding.

Not wanting to seem like a big baby, you bit down on your tongue as Carl cleaned your foot and wrapped your toes together with a bandage.

“You know, I really could have done it myself.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I don’t mind. I remember watching my mom bandage a woman called Jacqui’s foot up after she tripped and fell in camp one day.”

“What happened to Jacqui?” You ask curiously, since you hadn’t heard him mention her before.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She had given up.” Carl shakes his head. “I sometimes think about the camp I stayed in when the outbreak first started and miss it. The day my dad found us was probably the best day of my life.”

“I miss the farm; I miss my daddy.” Feeling your eyes start to tear up again, you pat at Carl’s hand. “But if you hadn’t left that camp, then we never would have met.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Carl moves closer to you, saying, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t thank me; you would have done the same thing.”

Closing your eyes, you try to push the memory of what happened to the back of your mind. You take a sharp intake of breath when you feel Carl press his lips against yours lightly. He pulls away after a few seconds and says, “I…I… shouldn’t have...”

You kiss him back. You remain lip-locked with Carl, your best friend, until someone clears their throat. You jump back, and Carl stands up, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “Hi Maggie,” he says nervously. “I’m just going to go and check on Judith.”

Maggie has a wide grin on her face; she found it amusing how awkward you looked. “I came as soon as Carol told me where you were; she said you'd hurt your foot.”

“I hurt it earlier, but it’s fine now.”

“Really?” She sits down on the edge of the table across from you. “Carol said it was bleeding and bruised.”

“It was, but Carl bandaged it.”

“With his mouth?” She laughs.

“Don’t.”

Maggie tries her best to hide her growing smile with her hand. “Okay, so I gotta ask, do you know how protection works?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Because I remember what it’s like to be a teenager with raging hormones. You are both smart kids, but you’re almost nearly sixteen.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god, Maggie, seriously?”

“Hope, I’m being deadly serious. This is an important subject, and I just need to know how much you learned before.“

You cut her off. “Of course I know how babies are made. Why the sudden interest in my sexual education, aside from trying to embarrass me to death?”

“I’m pregnant.”

#carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x you #teen spirit #teen spirit 6.01 #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

89 notes · View notes

qedart · 1 year

Photo

Thanks to everyone who voted in the poll! I hope this qualifies well enough for the ‘Something Sweet’ category. Also please be gentle, this is the first fic I’ve written in years.

---

They were supposed to be having dinner. That had been the plan at least.

After flying multiple cross-country trips (consistently with his least favourite first-officer too) Ron had secured himself some well-earned and very-much-needed time off. He’d decided to spend it in San Diego, catching up with Ice, Mav, and the kids (both the actual kids and Mav’s strays). Tonight was his first night in town and the intention was for the five of them to go out, grab a nice bite to eat and properly catch up.

Unfortunately before they even set foot in the door of the nice little Italian place they’d picked out, Ice’s phone began to ring. The grimace that had pulled at his face upon glancing at the caller ID made it clear to all of them it wasn’t a call he could dismiss either. 10 minutes in, Tom was still talking outside but hadn’t made moves to leave for the office yet. Unfortunately he also didn��t look like things were wrapping up either.

At the five minute mark Mav and Pete had gone to order the table drinks, but promptly got distracted on the way by the ping-ball machine that had been pushed into the back corner of the shop (a shiny ball, flashing lights, and the prospect of a pointless competition - the poor little morons never stood a chance). They were now vying, loudly, for the top score instead.

Rolling his eyes at the Mitchell show, Ron turned back to the only person who had the decency to stick around. But where Tom had been idly reading through the menu when he’d looked away, the kid now looked all the world like he was trying to work up the nerve to do something, or say something.

Arching a brow, Ron nudged the boy's shoulder, grimacing apologetically at the flinch it earned.

“You alright there, Buddy? " he asked, as gently as he could manage.

Tom shot a fleeting glance his way before turning back to the menu once again, humming and nodding stiffly in response.

Others may have pushed the subject, but Ron had been handling Icicles for a good long while now, and knew that the best thing for situations such as these was to give it time. Rushing it only led to walls going up or conversations stalling because Tom wasn’t completely ready to say what he needed to say but felt pressured to say something regardless. Neither were productive ways to spend one’s night.

So picking up his phone and tapping through to his newsfeed, that’s precisely what Ron did. He’d managed to get most of the way through the major headlines when Tom started fidgeting in his peripheral.

“Uncle Sli?”

Giving himself a quick mental pat on the back, Ron put down his phone and turned his attention back to Tom, who was looking over at him with an expression that he hadn’t seen in decades. That was to say the Tom Kazansky special blend of being intensely anxious while desperately trying to mask it behind cool indifference. Not necessarily a unique combination but one Ron could pick out of a line-up any day of the week.

“What’s up, kiddo?” he replied.

Tom faltered for a moment, before clearing his throat and drawing a deep, steadying breath.

“This is going to sound stupid,” he said, eyes fixed down on the menu in front of him but pushing through with all his might. “All things considered, it’s probably blatantly obvious. Doesn’t need saying. And… maybe… I don’t know… it’s just….

“I know it’s silly, and that it’s not a big deal anymore really, and everyone who properly matters here is already fine with it. I just… I’ve never actually told anyone and I feel… I sort of just want…”

“Want what?” Ron gently prompted.

Dragging in a deep, shuddering breath Tom turned to face Ron properly for the first time that evening.

“I’m gay,” he uttered, fingers clenching at his arms so hard the nails had started to go white with the pressure. “I-I’ve known for a while, but I’ve never actually… said it. Or told anyone.”

Ron blinked.

Well, that wasn’t what he had been expecting. But in retrospect it really really should have been. He’d had this conversation before after all. Not quite word for word, obviously, but the open mix of fear of a poor reaction and quiet hope of acceptance battling for dominance on Tom’s face made it feel pretty damn identical all the same.

Smiling warmly, Ron wrapped an arm around the kid's shoulders and tugged him closer, just like he had his little brother all those years ago.

“That’s still a big thing, Buddy. Definitely not stupid at all,” he said, smiling a little wider as he felt Tom lean properly against him. “Thanks for trusting me.”

“S’alright.”

“Love you, kiddo.”

“...Thank you,” Tom whispered, so quietly Ron almost didn’t catch it. These damn kids really were out to break his heart it seemed.

Sighing deeply, he pressed a firm kiss to the top of the boy’s head and held him tight until the moment was broken by a loud, indignant squawk from behind them.

“You’re a damn cheat!” Pete cried from the pinball machine.

“You are a sore loser,” Maverick jeered back.

Slider rolled his eyes and muttered, “Those idiots are going to get us kicked out before we even order.”

Tom laughed quietly and nodded, before pulling away from the hug and getting to his feet.

“Back in a sec,” he said, before strolling over to, presumably, pull the Mitchell’s back into line.

Ron arched his brow when Ice dropped back down at the table not a moment later, like he’d been waiting to do so. He was off his phone too, miracle of miracles.

“Everything good in the Pentagon?” Ron drawled, leaning back in his seat.

“You know I can’t comment on that,” Ice replied, taking a sip of his water as he stowed his phone away.

Ron rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Yes yes, you’re a very powerful and important man.”

“That goes without saying,” the smug little shit retorted, smirking - before shooting him a knowing look. “You’re 2 for 2 now, huh?”

Slider blinked innocently, leaning back a little further in his seat.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Ice,” he replied smoothly, because even in this very peculiar situation it wasn’t really his news to be spreading about, was it?

Ice’s smirk gentled into something a little warmer as he nodded his understanding, before reaching over and nudging Ron’s arm gently. “Thanks for being there for him too, Sli.”

Ron smiled, ducking his head as he nudged him back.

“Any time, little brother.”

—

#tom iceman kazansky #ron slider kerner #pete maverick mitchell #in the background this time #Time Warp AU #top gun #art

392 notes · View notes

thegreatstoryteller · 1 year

Text

The Great Shift: Reunion

The Great Shift is a well known event that had swapped over 90% of the world’s population! However, after the initial fallout and chaos, a few years later people began to acclimate to their lives. Though there were still moments where people were confronted with just how much they’ve changed.

“Ok Ned Nuno. No one is gonna remember you as Ned the know it all. It’s been years. People are mature and have their own lives.” Ned said to himself in the mirror.

The young man looked back at his model like reflection. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe it was him. Only a few years ago he was looking at his own bespectacled face with his receding hairline. Sure he’s what some would call cute and charming. He always had a knack for intelligent conversation. After college he embraced his intelligence even more and had the luxury to travel as he got older... but he couldn’t deny that his former body wasn’t turning any heads romantically. They’d haver to notice the 5 foot tall waifish man for that to happen.

But now... that was no longer the case. All those years ago he was traveling at an airport when the Great Shift happened. One moment he was departing his plane, the next he was in a boarding area waiting to be seated!

Needless to say it was a shock. He’d gone from a smaller and dark skinned to a clearly white and very in shape young man! He later found that this guy was named Connor Duval and was just 21 years old at the time! Still in college too. And... well those first few days he certainly had a lot to learn about his new form.

However he couldn’t reminisce any further. He needed to get ready for his school’s 10 year reunion. He wasn’t the same timid nerd that people would pick on. He was braver! He’d seen the world! And wasn’t afraid!

- One ride to the school later -

“Ok. I’m afraid! Jackie! Are you here yet? I know this is the 2nd message I left for you on your phone, but I don’t want to be the only one here I know! You were always my best friend and I’m sorry I’m so nervous and-” Ned was pacing nervously outside of the building he once learned at, waiting to go in with his friend.

“Easy there poindexter. Your bestie is back.” A deep voice says spooking Ned as he jumps.

“J-Jackie?” Ned asks nervously seeing the towering muscular figure beside him.

“In the flesh. I though I told you that I shifted into that big Ukrainian construction worker? I mean all the better for it right? None of your old bullies ever messed with you when you butch lesbian bestie was at your side.” Jackie said with a flex.

“I know. I know. You were always so open and brave with yourself It’s honestly inspiring. I’m sorry i was so shocked. I’m just nervous and it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other. I hope your girlfriend is taking it ok.” Ned offers sympathetically.

“Yeah she loves it. She swapped into this bi goddess of a woman and works out with me a lot. Good thing too! I’m still only attracted to women and I have the best one sucking me off every night!” Jackie bragged. Previously her normal crude humor always let out a laugh from Ned, but now Ned trembled a bit as Jackie sounded just like those macho straight guys that bullied him.

“Aren’t you a little under dressed without um... a shirt?” Ned asks.

“Ha! Well you know. I thought about going nude. But I did pack a polo so i can be decent. Aren’t you over dressed Ned?”

“What!? I couldn’t decide what to wear! I just chose one of my body’s outfits that still fits...” Ned blushes in his nice suit. Sure he was a 6 foot tall model with abs, but his indecision in outfits was ever present.

“Neverminded that anymore. Let’s get in there! You’re a tenured professor for Pete’s sake. And I’m a well known LGBT author. We got a lot to talk about.”

Jackie pulled Ned in with his surprising strength and they began to hear the music and mingling. Inside they were given name tags and soon saw the crowds of people that none of them recognized! One of the perks of the shift was that no one was ever mad when they didn’t recognize one another. In this case though Jackie and Ned’s eyes zeroed in on a few key people.

Stacy Skarsgaard was always known as the head cheerleader and total B. Her platinum blond hair and perky breasts getting her through life and landing her a cushy secretary job somewhere in the city, from what Jackie had heard. Now once again, as she was so many other times, she was blasted drunk and taking her top off. Only this time it revealed a powerful dark skinned chest with curly black hairs. Her perfectly shaved face saying, “And like. I”m already on my 4th husband and he totally worships me. Takes care of the kids and still tops me like a champ. Like. I totally see why gay guys do it all the time. I can’t stop. Any more martinis?”

Jackie snorts. “Where was that open mindedness when she tried to get student council to take down the LGBT Support Club? Freaking hypocrite. Their eyes then drifted to three men chest bumping and laughing.

“Are those guys Chad, Thad, and Grad?” Ned asks surprised. “Weren’t they... like the biggest guys on the football team?” Ned recalled the days when those beefy fat bodies would pound through the halls and shove him against lockers.

“Oh yeah. I heard they were working as assistant coaches at some college and ended up swapping with their respective school’s freshman swim team. They... certainly lost a lot of that freshmen 15 that we saw them with in university.” Jackie laughed admiring how they both towered over their former bullies, though Ned once again felt insecure about how much their abs looked better than his. Those three guys kept messing around but in different ways. Instead of belching and arm wrestling they were doing some handstands and showing how flexible they were.

“Ok. Ned. Stop sulking and start catching up. You wanted to prove to yourself you could stand up to your past. Now is your chance. Next person to walk through that door is gonna be a new person you have to say Hi to ok?” Jackie commanded.

Ned gulped and looked at the door nervously and was in awe of who stepped in.

“Paul Bailey?” Ned said astonished. He’d recognize that familiar leather jacket anywhere.... he could still smell it as the closeted athlete wrapped his arms around him all those years ago under the bleachers after a big game. Neither have them had mentioned the night since, but that hadn’t stopped Ned from cherishing that memory.... as well as stalking him occasionally on social media seeing who he swapped with.

Ned hadn’t realized he’d been staring that long as Paul immediately saw him and walked over. “Holy... Ned? Is that you. Wow you sure changed.” The man joked. His voice was different... but still so deep and smooth Ned nearly swooned.

“H-hey Paul. Guess we all have since the switch. You’re um... looking good.” Ned admitted, blushing. He missed his previous heritage that made these embarrassing actions less noticeable with his former darker skin.

“Thanks. I guess I traded in my older pasty body for a new more bronze kind. I wasn’t expecting to swap with an Asian bodybuilder, but hey I was at the airport. Right or wrong place depending who you ask for the shift.”

“Really? I was at the airport too when I shifted. It was kinda funny. I’d been traveling a lot since I got tenure as a professor, but the first thing I did when I shifted was trip. I guess no amount of travelling prepares you for suddenly having size 14 feet.” Ned laughs.

“Really? They do look big... dang. Those are like twice the size of your old ones.” Paul laughs too!

“Y-you remembered me that well?” The nerd felt touched.

“Of course,” Paul replied as it was his turn to blush. “Though hey! I got you beat with these size 17 wide feet. With these heavy muscle I nearly took out an entire cart of luggage.”

The two continued to laugh, comparing bodies, stories, and catching up. Jackie suddenly took her leave to be ogled by all of the female attendants.

Ned and Paul were having a great time walking around, having fun, and enjoying each other’s company.

Ned didn’t know that their bodies had met previously. That Connor was on the way to visit his boyfriend at the time... that miles away their original bodies were holding hands and laughing too... Ned couldn’t know that Paul had also been secretly keeping up with Ned after feeling bad about kissing and never calling...

But there are some things a know it all doesn’t know. Maybe it’ll be fun for him to start learning again. This time with someone both old/new.

#body swap #thegreatshift #The Great Shift #Great Shift #thegreatstoryteller #race change #racial change #height change #gender change #female to male

497 notes · View notes

jaylienpotter · 9 months

Text

Part 3 of Let them be | 1.9K words

> Part 2 | Part 4 <

Let people want both

Remus, James and Peter were outside already, waiting for Sirius to join them to go to Hogsmead. Remus was getting impatient (it was getting close to that time of the month), it was unbelievable the amount of time someone could take to get ready. They always expected him to take longer, hence why not waiting at the dorm. But that day Padfoot was taking especially long.

Lupin's frown became something else entirely. Thin lips parted, brown eyes wide and cheeks most certainly darker than usual. Siri looked absolutely gorgeous, hot, perfect.

"Looking good Pads!" Prongs greeted the last marauder with his usual cheerful grin. But he didn't have the tall boy's slightest attention.

"You think?"

"Yeah! Girl day?" Sirius hummed affirmatively and got closer. Fuck did he she look even better.

"Where did you get the clothes?" The short blond boy was still getting used to the whole gender thing, but it had gotten better since the protest they did for Regulus.

"Well, Marlene gave me the skirt, said it's a tad too big on her. The top is mine but I cut it to be cropped. Not bad, I'd say. Definitely not the straightest but it's me after all. And I don't know, it gives it a grungy style. The fishnets are Mary's. I was expecting it to be uncomfortable but it's not, really. The accessories are all mine except for the bracelet, which is also Marlene's. The boots are mine, obviously. It would be fun to maybe get heels at one point but I don't think they exist in my size."

"You can always try spells. You look wicked, anyway!" Potter turned to Remus, who was very much panicking on the inside. "Y'alright, Moony?"

"Huh? Oh- yeah, yeah." Was that suspicious? He was quite collected in general but something about that man - or woman, person, didn't really matter - made him feral. He wanted Sirius to be his. He needed it. But he was far too awkward and shy to ever make a move. I mean, what if it ruined their friendship?

"Look!" Pads lifted her rectangle black sunglasses to show an amazing eye look (not that Remus knew much about makeup) that made her grey eyes pop. "I did it myself! Lily has been teaching me how to make different looks with makeup."

"You're on a first name basis, now? You're not stealing Evans from me, Pads, are you?" He squinted as if threatening, not that he would ever hurt his best friend.

"No, don't worry. I'm still very much into blokes."

"Good. Anyone you got your eyes on?"

"Maybe. Maybe not." Suddenly focused on the conversation, a million thoughts raced through Rem's head. Did Padfoot have a crush? Who could it be?

"Secretive. I'm onto you, Pads. And how about you Moony? We all know Pete is devoted to the Ravenclaw boy-"

"Merlin! I've told you already, Benjy and I are just friends."

"Sure." Round glasses turned to Moony, who, for once, was feeling somewhat brave.

"I guess you could say I fancy someone." He hoped to get a reaction from said person.

"Ooooo! Who is she?" This was his moment.

"Why are you assuming it's a girl?" There it was. Pads looked up, interest peaked. It could only be from curiosity, she always enjoyed some drama. Or maybe, hopefully, it could be deeper than that.

"Am I the only straight person here?"

"Well I'm not gay, because I don't fancy Benjy. I don't fancy anyone." Poor Pete. James wouldn't leave him alone about it, constantly teasing.

"Whatever you say, Wormy. Who's this person, Moony?"

"Ain't telling." He was feeling brave and maybe even impulsive. But not even the full moon made him an idiot.

"Aww, come on! Why don't you lot tell me anything?!"

"Perhaps because you're extremely obvious and embarrassing." He did have a point. Although that wasn't the reason in this case.

"Awn, do I embarrass you in front of eagle boy?"

"You're insufferable!" Potter chuckled, deciding it was enough teasing.

"Well, where we off to first? Zonko's?"

"We should go there last. We will need quite a lot of things, we're running out of stock for pranks."

"What would we do without you, Moony?" Get in a lot more detentions, that's for sure. "Three broomsticks?"

They all agreed and went to the pub, ordering butterbeer. After a while of talking about nothings, Peter got up.

"I have to go for a bit."

"Meeting a certain someone whose name starts with a B?"

"Sod off, Potter. I'll see you later." He was barely out the door when James got up too.

"Oh shit! I also need to go. I want to buy Lily some flowers. See if this time she'll accept going on a date. Sorry mates." He took some coins from his pockets (most of them galleons, rich prick) and messily left them on the table. "Uh this should cover some of the drinks. I'll meet you at Zonko's in like 30, yeah?"

"Just go, lover boy."

"Thank you, you're the best!" And then it was just them. It's not like they were never alone, but it was especially hard to focus when Sirius looked like a hot rockstar. No matter where Lupin looked, he could easily get flustered. Face? Amazing makeup that he wanted to kiss. Top? You could see her abs under the crop. Bottom? Obviously the mini skirt. There was no way out.

"You seem distracted."

"Hm? Do I?" Fuck.

"Yes. Is it because of the person you fancy?"

"Maybe." Absolutely.

"I didn't know you were bi." The lanky boy just shrugged, afraid to say something stupid. "Do I know him?"

"You know everyone."

"You know what I mean." Another non answer, a sip of the butterbeer that was near the end. "Do you know if he's gay? Or bi or whatever."

"He is."

"What does he look like?" They were getting into dangerous territory. There weren't many males at hogwarts with fucking grey eyes. Join the long black hair and it was a given.

"Why the interrogation? You also didn't give us much closure."

"Ask me things, then." He pondered. He desperately wanted to find out if Padfoot had any interest in the boy across from her.

"Do you fancy someone?"

"I do." Could be anyone.

"What's his house?"

"Gryffindor, of course. I have high standards, Moons." Siri was the only person that called him that. Got this man on his knees every time.

"I mean you dated a Ravenclaw."

"Shhhh we don't talk about him."

"Right." Brown eyebrows came together "Is it- is it James?" It made sense. They were always together, after all. And Potter was always complimenting his best mate.

"Prongs?! Fuck no! He's my brother. Why? You don't fancy him, do you…?"

"No, no!" Different Marauder.

"What's his house?"

"Also Gryffindor. What does your crush look like?" It could go downhill from there very fast.

"Brown hair. Brown eyes." Matched… "Bad sense of style." Listen. Remus didn't have a bad sense of style. He just liked to be comfortable. Although he could be the one in the description since Black said he looked like a grandfather.

Before Rem could answer, probably ask something that was more specific, a crash and shouts were heard a few tables over.

"Let's go somewhere else?"

"Sounds good."

After paying, Moony awkwardly followed his crush to a secluded area in the street.

"How about you? What does your crush look like?"

"Dark hair…" Pads hummed, encouraging to continue. "Light eyes…" Bastard was smirking. Smirking at the pink cheeks across the scarred face.

"I see…" She got close. Very close. "You know, Lupin. I couldn't help but notice you get particularly shy whenever I'm wearing a skirt. Any reason?" He didn't say anything. I mean, what was he supposed to say? Sirius obviously knew the answer already. "I'd say you simply like short skirts but I don't see you staring at other girls like that." His cheeks matched the colour of their house and he could be playing quidditch with how fast his heart was beating. "What is it, Remy?"

"Siri…" His voice was pleading, his eyes were pleading, his heart was pleading, he was on his knees and she was well aware of that.

"No no." She took his chin and made him look into those grey eyes. "Say it."

"I…" Shit, he was nervous. "I… like you…"

"Was that so hard? If all I needed to do to get you to like me back was to wear a skirt, I would've protested a lot sooner."

"It's not since the skirt… It's been longer." The Black smirk. Annoying and hot. He just wanted to kiss it, aware the bold red lipstick would get smudged on both of them.

"Remus John Lupin, you fool." And just like that, their lips met. Pale arms around the taller one's neck. Moony put his arms around her and pulled her closer, feeling her bare skin and melting into the kiss.

Merlin knows how long the kissing lasted. Time didn't exist between those two. After what seemed like an eternity and yet not enough, they parted.

"You have some lipstick on you." She chuckled and cleaned some of it with her finger. "I'm making it worse…"

"That's okay. I'll wash my face."

"Woooooo!" Turning around, there was a short Filipino blondie cheering them, holding hands with her dark skinned girlfriend. "Fucking finally! You better tell me the details, Black!"

"Fine! Now sod off Mckinnon!" She laughed and pulled Dorcas, walking away. "Well…"

"I uh… I'll wash my face at the pub."

"I'll walk with you." The silence was a tad awkward. At least to Remus. His crush took his hand and broke the ice. "So, since when do you fancy me?"

"I'm not sure… A year, maybe? You?"

"Awww really? You should have come out sooner. I've liked you since fourth year. Never made a move because I thought you were straight. And even after the protest, I wasn't sure if you just found me attractive because I look like a girl."

"No, I like you when you're masculine too. The skirt just… I don't know, has a different effect. Wait here?"

"Is my lipstick smudged?"

"A bit."

"I'll go too." They went back to the pub they had left some minutes ago. Pads went to the girl's bathroom while Remus cleaned his face and grinned at the mirror in the men's. When they met again, the red lips were as lively as before. They stained Moony, the shape of a kiss on his left cheek. "Sorry. Had to."

It had been over 30 minutes since James left to fetch Lily a gift. So naturally, he and Pettigrew were already waiting at Zonko's.

"There they are! Where were you two- Is that lipstick?!" The werewolf blushed and looked down while his partner held up their hands grinning.

"We're dating!"

"What?! You were each other's crushes?!" Wormtail shook his head.

"You are so oblivious, Prongs."

"Wha- You knew?!"

"Everyone with eyes and some common sense knows those two have been pining over each other. Congrats on figuring it out, it was getting painful to watch."

"Wormtail!" Pads gasped dramatically, her hand over her chest. "How could you stay quiet?"

"Wasn't my place to say anything. And it was quite entertaining to watch how stupid you both were." Sirius seemed offended, but Remus couldn't help but find the whole situation hilarious.

#Another part of the lil series hehe #wolfstar #genderfluid sirius black #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #harry potter marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #remus john lupin #remus lupin #remus x sirius #sirius black #james & peter & remus & sirius

177 notes · View notes