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emletish-fish · 2 years

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Robby and Johnny in season 4 (how I would fix Johnny’s character arc to make it more coherent with the wider themes of the season and his narrative arc structure)

For the record - I love the hug scene. It was beautifully written and astoundingly well acted, and due to Billy and Tanner’s chemistry together, they sold it. It’s a scene so hopeful and healing that it elevates the entire final epsiode and makes me excited to see what happens next with these two in season 5. Johnny’s not magically a better father and all is not forgiven, but my god is this a very good start of what will hopefully be something better between these two. So I see this as a fresh starting point, rather than a culmination of an arc for these two this season.

Robby needed a hug and to be vulnerable so badly after the AVT, and the fact that he was able to reach out to his father and recieve love and acceptance and absolution and comfort at his lowest point ever, will always be one of the most beautiful moments in this series. Johnny’s soft lil smile at being able to comfort Robby is the second most beautiful.

Because for Robby, his over-arching 4 season arc isn’t about power, or philosophy. Robby didn’t want a trophy. He just wanted a mentor/ father figure who loved him as he was (and when he couldn’t find it, he tried to be it). In this moment, he got that love and acceptance he’s been yearning for, and from his real father. which is lovely.

BUT

but

oh but wouldn’t it have been great if this was also a culmination of a joint story-arc on Johnny’s side as well. If I cried actual tears in this, I would have sobbed like a baby and gone wailing into the woods if Johnny’s side of this story matched Robby’s for depth. it would have leant this moment so much more gravitas and taken from beautiful to the fucking epic level. it would have been perfect television.

And it just takes a little tweaking to make Johnny’s story more coherent, and make this moment more earned on his side too.

While Robby’s character arc this season is some of the strongest writing this show’s produced, Johnny’s writing was literally all over the place this season. Like, they did not seem to know what to do with him, and he was reduced to a reactive, rather than an active character until the final few eps - which given the fact that Johnny is such a pivotal character and has previously been a super active force in driving the action - felt like a weird choice writing-wise. They made him retread the same tired jealousy themes without doing anything NEW with it, which was frustrating. honestly I’d like the fix the whole daniel and Johnny shenanagins too, but that will have to be a different post.

I dont mind Johnny screwing up, but I do need him to learn. Johnny has grown in the prior three seasons and did learn from his mistakes. It was always a dance of two steps forward, one step back, occassionally a fall into a gigantic gaping pit of depression, climb back out, two steps forward, one step back with this dude. It was a rocky road, but there was progress - but season four had him act less evolved than he was in ace degenerate - all for unnecessary drama. It was a really jarring character regression.

It took me until ep sevenish to realise what Johnny’s arc was even about (and that’s something that should be obvious from about ep 1 or 2.)

Now I’ve seen the whole thing - Johnny’s storyline is about fatherhood. It was about how he can grow into the role when he has no positive examples. It’s about the inherent tension he feels when his relationship with his students merges between Sensei and Dad (because several kids look to him as a father figure and sometimes he does okay and sometimes he fails miserably and once in a blue moon, he's actually great).

If his story is about fatherhood his relationship with Robby is crucial to get right. instead of a lot of indifference and then a mad panic to stuff the back three eps with Dad trauma, concern for Robby’s safety leading Johnny to recklessly put himself in great physical danger, and a drunken breakdown, all to show he cares - that could have been apparent from the start, in a way that enhanced the narrative arcs around it. I wrote a post about Hawk’s arc and how it could be improved while still keeping the story beats the same here. I would imagine that Hawk’s enhanced arc is happening co-currently with this, so I recommend reading that post too.

If I were to fix Johnny’s arc, using the same story beats and just adding a few extra scenes, I would do this.

Ep 1 - attempt 1 and rejection.

Okay, just considering what happened at the end of Season 3. Johnny left Robby with a violent abuser, Johnny saw his son drop his tough-guy-I-don't-need-you-I-don't-want-you-act, nearly cry and say he blamed himself for Johnny never being around. and Johnny hurt Robby physically.

(This one I think is especially huge because it ties into so much of johnny’s self loathing, and all of his anxieties about fatherhood. Robby never wanted to be like Johnny, but Johnny never wanted to be abusive like his father figures, Sid and Kreese. Given that fact that even in season 1, where Robby loves to list Johnny's faults and failures, because he's lashing out and hurting, the very worst thing he can say about Johnny is that he wasn't around, not that he was abusive. neglectful but not violent. I don't think Johnny has ever come close to raising his hand to Robby. Johnny accidentally hurting Robby was absolutely devastating last season. Johnny was truly horrified at himself).

And Robby is angry.

With that kinda set up, ignoring the relationship between Robby and Johnny til ep four is weird. Also Robby's living situation was never clear this season (when did he move in with Shannon again?????). Both those problems could be solved by a short scene in the first episode. Episode one has a 'talk is cheap amd actions speak louder than words when it comes to atoning for past misdeeds'. It's the start of the season. it shows what went down last season did have a profound impact on Johnny and he’s gonna try. It’s perfect ep for Johnny to first try showing Robby with actions that he cares.

The living situation thing has to be dealt with, because Robby is technically homeless and Johnny is his parent. Johnny, fresh off telling Hawk “Actions speak louder than words”, decides to do SOMETHING practical to help Robby and begin to make amends.

He would seek Robby out, at some point before Robby’s confrontation with Kreese. In fact, I would place it right at the start. Robby being ‘late coming back into the dojo’ would be because he was seeing his father. If I had my way, I would have had Robby accept an invite to breakfast out of hunger/morbid curiosity. And he would tell Johnny that’s exactly why he’s there. I'm just hungry. I dont give a shit what you have to say. Johnny would say that he wants to help Robby, and he can’t keep living in the dojo, kreese is dangerous. He’d ask for Robby to hear him out - but Robby is ANGRY and he’s right to be. He’d go for the jugular, and say something like “Why, you going to shove me face first into more lockers if I don’t listen?”

I want Robby to be savage here, and for Johnny to feel the weight of his guilt. Johnny drops the subject of trying to explain to Robby, but still gives his offer of practical help. Robby obviously doesn’t want to be anywhere near Johnny at that point, or daniel, but he can’t keep living in the dojo, because kreese is dangerous and will just use him as a pawn until he’s no longer useful. (this would then tie into his conversation with Kreese later that day).

Robby will scoff in disbelief that Johnny cares about his living situation, and be like whatya going to do about it. Johnny would at this point offer money to pay for a motel room and groceries, so at least Robby has enough to money to have a roof over his head and food and isn’t completely dependant on Kreese. He’d ask when Shannon was getting out. Robby would say she was getting out next week, (Implying that his time living with on a dojo floor/motel would be short). Johnny would give Robby enough money to last him until he’s with his mom again. Robby would get angry and say something like just giving me X amount of dollars doesn’t make you my Dad, call him a pathetic loser (for bonus points), and then take the money anyway, saying something like “It’s all you have to give”.

Which is a direct hit, a real double whammy - because isn’t that exactly what Johnny said to Sid.

I would imply that scrounging the money together for Robby has been a finacial hit for Johnny somewhere else in the episode. He's emptied his account or he's sold his TV to Lyle, etc. He's given up something for Robby's safety.

Scene 2 attempt 2 and rejection in ep 4.

personally, I would give less space to the jealousy plot, the endless stupid montage, and the weird rivalry over styles (have them disagree philosophically over things that matter. See my Hawk fix it ideas for what these would be). The weird rivalry/jealousy took up way to much time. Like still keep the story beats, but trim the fact and use the extra time to expand on the conversation between Robby and Johnny in this episode.

You know, a lot of the doorstop conversation can stay. The setting and the way it ends I would tweak.

But Robby saying he doesn't trust anyone anymore, and he's smarter and better than Johnny, so he wont be fooled or tricked or used, and He's in control now. That his deepest, most wretched fear is being anything like Johnny. The kind of knowing, understanding and gentle admonishment that Johnny shows at the start of this conversation (because he knows how it is in CK) and his inability to articulate why Cobra Kai is poison, just that it is. The way he acknowledges that Robby DOESN'T KNOW what he's in for coupled with the way Robby immediately shuts that down with an abrupt I Know Enough!

All that is great. That can stay.

I would change the setting and the ending of that conversation.

I'd have them meet up at the same cafe/diner. I'd give them 'a place' this season, to have these conversations. I would love it to be Sal's (where Johnny was for his first grand failure as a father, and the place that clearly makes him very nostalgic for Robby, but a cute, little ice-cream eating one. He doesn't know how to deal with the big, complicated and angry boy Robby's grown into. But he's trying ... At least in this reworking).

So yeah, they've been meeting up in Sals. I'd establish that Robby is now staying with Shannon and Johnny paying child support again with a simple 'How's your Mom? She getting my checks?'

I would imply they have been seeing eachother a few times. They aren't happy meetings. They're dysfunctional as all hell and they all end with Robby storming off. But Johnny keeps showing up. (umm... I just wish the writers could Let Robby be the one who leaves for once? Let him set the terms of these meetings. Let Johnny be the one who approaches him at the start and do some emotional labour). I have Johnny ask why Robby called him down, and wonder if it was just to call him a useless loser over a milkshake again, implying past meetings and milkshakes.

Robby would announce that he called this meeting to get Hawk to stop bullying Kenny, and the conversation can preceed as it. After hearing Robby really begin to double down on the Croba Kai stuff, I’d NOT have Johnny just get bored of the conversation and close the door in his son’s face (WTF show. who was that joker. these two are emotional mascochists for eachother. They’re conversations aren’t ever ‘cold’ or disinterested. they are both highkey dramatic and emotional about each other.)

Instead, I would have Johnny ask Robby why he was so into Cobra Kai. It’s not really his style.

Robby would scoff in disbelief that Johnny would know anything about him, his style, his likes and dislikes (fair hit, there.)

Johnny would rephrase and say, fine it’s not your fight. So why you getting so involved if you don’t want to be a pawn.

Robby would shrug and give him not much to work with, and turn it back on Johnny and say ‘Maybe I love karate now. You always cared more about Cobra Kai than me. Maybe I’m seeing what all teh fuss is about. ’ He’d say this like it is a sad fact, because it’s how he genuinely feels.

Johnny would insist he actually does care, and he doesn’t want to fight Robby.

This would give Robby an opportunity to go for the jugular again. (Look Robby has a lot of justifiable anger that he needs to let out towards Johnny, and it would make that end hug all the sweeter if they had high stakes shakespearen level drama between them instead of... lazy writing.

I’d have Robby give Johnny an ultimatium. “Prove. Dissolve your dojo. Stop helping Mr Larusso. If you don’t want to fight me.. then dont fight me. Show me I’m more important to you that somw stupid karate war. Prove it.”

But Johnny can’t, given every thing that is at stake. But Robby would take that as proof that Johnny doesn’t care, and he would be the one to storm off.

I go by the rule of three; let Robby storm away from Johnny three times, which would make his decision to go towards Johnny at the end more impactful.

Cue the drive-in show down, the Miyagi-do trick and the fucked up revenge of Hawk getting violated/shaved. And Johnny taking the Eagle Fangs out of Miyagi do.

Moment 1:

This isn’t a whole scene, but just a little moment in epsiode six after hawk gets shaved.

I'd have Robby find out about the Dojo Dissolution through Kyler being Kyler. Kyler's getting into this war and enemies and no mercy stuff, and he's crowing about what he found out at school. CK has had massive win, because that loser pulled Rhea and his other losers out of Sam's dad's dojo and it's all because of Robby.

Oh Robby. He'd have this moment of brief but incredible hope, where he thinks his Dad did that for hi.

Then Nope, they split because of what happened to Hawk and Robby's savage plan.

I would then have Kyler be full-on sadistic Kyler. Let Kyler show Robby both the full extent of what a bullying douchebag he is and also make Robby uncomfortable with the magnitude of what he's just done.

Robby was the only kid who never participated in any kind of bullying until this season. He was the last pure one. And he went from never bullying anyone, to orchestrating a physical assault of someone and a complete violation of their bodily autonomy.

What Robby did was fucked up, and it should be treated as such by the narrative. Because for the first time in Robby's life he was deliberately cruel to another kid. Robby is so kind-hearted that this action SHOULD deeply affect him.

So I'd have Robby hear Kyler laughing about how Hawk's too scared to come out of his house, how without the hair Kyler and co. can go back to calling him lip cause of his fucked-up lip. Hey remember the good old days when we used to make him cry everyday? Those days are back, baby. They say he's quit karate. He's too freaked out ever fight again -

the vibe would be very “well done Robby. You've completely destroyed another person. No mercy. Here's your cruelty badge from the fucked up boy scouts.” Kyler's praise fills Robby with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

But as a result of his conversation with Robby, and Robby explicitly saying that Johnny made him feel like karate was more important that his welfare, Johnny will take two steps forward with Hawk. (see my fixing hawk’s arc using the same story beats for more details). It’s all the things he wanted to say to Robby that Robby wouldn’t accept. So Hawk obviously a stand-in replacement goldfish here, but these are words that he needs to hear too. (and Johnny using child surrogate stand-ins to help him work through his shit with Robby would have been a wonderful on-going theme this season).

Johnny would check on Hawk, and be much more sensitive to his mental state. He would make it clear to Hawk that he, as a person, matters to Johnny more than a stupid karate war, and take the fact that Hawk wants to quit graciously. He will take Hawk’s well-being seriously. When Hawk starts on his self-loathing, how he deserves this because of what he did, it will strike a chord in Johnny. He’ll think of himself as a teen, and of Robby now). He’ll tell Hawk that, yeah, he fucked up before, but he didn’t not deserve what happened. (The way Hawk’s narrative treats the non-consensual violation of his sense of self as a good thing is not my cup of tea).

Johnny would validate Hawk and affirm Hawk and remind him that he’s still a badass even without the hair. dumbo didn’t need his feather to fly. etc. It’s a sweet meeting and Hawk feels a little better afterwards.

Scene 3 - the final attempt and the final rejection.

After Johnny sees Hawk and Robby sees Daniel, I would find some space in the episode to have Robby and Johnny meet a Sal’s one last time. Johnny called the meeting this time, and Robby has come along out of morbid curiosity and also he’s still high of telling Daniel to get bent. He's wanting to reject his other father figure too.

Side note: What the hell Daniel? you only approach the kid when you might need to use him? Way to make the kid’s trauma, confusion and misdeeds ALL ABOUT YOU, Larusso. The way Daniel automatically assumes that Robby is a bad person now while saying he doesn’t judge him??

(Honestly, the way every single kid in Miyagi-do treated Robby this season was awful. He stood up for all of you and you made it clear you were only his friends when he was useful to you. Everyone turned their back on him in juvie, and no one reach out and now they’re all acting like he’s evil, without even trying to understand what he’s going through. No wonder Robby chose cobra kai. At least Tory likes him as a person. like Jeez Miyagi-dos. Miguel had so much less judgement of Robby and he was on opposite sides the whole time and was nearly killed by him.)

Daniel offers Robby no way back to the ‘good side’ and scolds him for being on ‘the bad side.’ That said Daniel’s arc is all about his own trauma, so that fact that he makes this meeting with Robby all about him fits and the scene afterwards with Terry is spectacular in a chilling kinda way. So I kinda love it.

But I would have loved it if Johnny also reached out to Robby, because he saw what happened to Hawk, and tbh it actually is really fucked up that Robby did that. But Johnny’s coming from a place of concern, because what he dreaded is happening to Robby and he's got the fatherhood arc.

They’d start talking about the new rules, and Robby is kinda hoping his Dad will do a simmilar ‘come back to us’ pitch so he can tell him to get bent too. Johnny doesn't give a crap about the rules (queue snarky comment from Robby about his Dad fighting dirty in the AVT in 84). But Johnny isn’t here to talk about the tournament , or ask Robby back. he does assume Robby is nervous though.

I’d have an almost ‘light’ moment, where Johnny expresses that he’s sure Robby will do great because he was a badass last year. (Robby will do some internal screaming at praise and be so annoyed at himself). Robby will boast that they have Tory too, so Cobra Kai is going to win, and wipe the floor with all the losers. No mercy.

Johnny will be worried, but he's also losing patience and he's more direct. He'll ask if thats Robby talking or Kreese. He'll mention that Robby said he was too smart to fall for the bullshit and he was the one in control.

Robby will insist he is in control.

Johnny will say something in frustration like "Oh yeah, just like you were in control and had five your buddies hold a kid down by his neck while he screamed. You were in complete control then? That's who you are now? I thought you were meant to be better than me?" - as a call back to their previous conversation.

None of daniel's faux "I don't judge you" while obviously judging him. Johnny is upfront that he disapproves. And Robby does not react well to Johnny trying to play 'disapproving dad' now. His unresolved feelings of shame regarding shaving Hawk make him extra defensive. Johnny reacts badly partly because being restrained by his neck is a massive trauma button for this guy, and the idea that robby did that to some other kid freaks him out, partly because he is losing patience and partly because it really is starting to see hopeless. He's actually tried over several months to get through to Robby without any success. So they both lash out.

It goes as well as you'd expect.

I’d have Johnny say something like “Really, cause you're doing the same sort of screwed up shit I used to do in high school. I tormented Daniel and now I know it wasn't right, but back then...”

(This also serves the purpose of finally acknowlegding in Cobra Kai that Johnny is aware that what he did to Daniel back in ‘84 was fucked up. He might not be able to apologise to Daniel yet for it, but at least we all know that Johnny is aware that he was in the wrong and paves the way for to realise that he is also partly to blame for the current situation with Daniel and their failure to work together. it’s not all big mean daniel’s fault, Johnny).

Robby hates the comparison and the idea that they’re simmilar in any way. his greatest fear is being like his dad, so this conversation is driving him bananas.

Robby will be all like :”No, it’s a totally different situation. You were an asshole to MR Larusso. But Hawk got what was coming to him. He messed with one of us, so then he had to pay.” and isn’t that just Young!Johnny to a T.

Then I’d bring in some dialogue from their reconciliation later, to give that scene more context. I’d have Johnny say in frustation that talking to Robby is “like looking in a mirror.” Direct hit to both their feelings of self-loathing there. and an homage to the way their stories reflect each other.

But that’s the final straw for Robby. he goes off that Dad can’t blame him when Johnny has never been there for Robby, ever. And Mr Larusso was for a bit but then Dad ruined Miyagi-do for him as well, and then Robby’s life went to shit. (this is not exactly true. Daniel’s temper ruined Miyagi-do for Robby, but to Robby’s POV, he was kicked out because of his Dad.) Robby will say that Johnny can’t blame him for Hawk when Robby blames Johnny for every single bad thing in his life. (bring in that blame bit of their reconciliation dialogue) Robby would then say “I never want to talk to you again. We're done. Let me go my own way from now on. “

Johnny finally gives up in this fix-it, because this conversation was awful for both of them and he feels like it’s pointless to try and get through to Robby right now. He’s tried, and he only made it worse. “If thats what you really want. I’ll leave you alone.”

And that is the end of their Sal’s meetings/breakfasts together.

Moment 2 - Keep in mind, Johnny trying to reconnect with Robby is happening right in front of Miguel's salad. I'd definitely have Miguel be aware that Johnny goes to see him after seeing hawk, and have the jealousy and inadequacy Miguel feels become obvious then. Johnny’s attempts with Robby are one of the things ‘making it weird’ for Miguel.

Johnny’s failure with Robby would make his accompany made scramble to ‘fix it’ with Miguel a little more poignant, and it would give added weight to his confession to Miguel that he doesn;t think he can fix his relationship with Robby anymore, because Robby doesn’t want anything to do with him. (but once again. this is implying that Johnny does want to be involved with Robby and it’s only because of Robby’s rejection that he’s not - and this plants another little jealousy seed for Miguel. the growing idea that he is the replacement gold-fish. the stand in son.)

Moment 3 I would have a brief shot of Robby going past Sal’s, looking in window, seeing their booth empty. So he takes this as confirmation that his Dad has officially given up on him. but there is longing in his gaze too. because even though it was dysfunctional, for once he’d had his Dad’s complete attention.

Scene 4 Eli and Robby confrontation at the Prom or afterparty.

This scene would drive both their narrative arcs forward, and add a dollop of the Daddy issues and failed attempts at atonement to Robby’s otherwise splendid evening. See my hawk post for more details on Hawk’s side of this equation.

I would have Robby bump into someone in the drinks line. He doesn’t realise it’s Eli until the other boy turns around (because of the hair change), so he’s polite and says ‘sorry’. Eli is offended because sorry isn’t enough. he’d be all indignant. “Oh, you’re sorry?!” etc. Queue Kyler and Docuhebags sweeping in to give Robby ‘back-up’ and give Hawk a hard time. Robby can see how ugly their bullying really is close up.

Hawk balls his hands into fists, and they make fun of him for not swinging at them. Hawk, now in Miyagi do, will be like “my karate is for self-defense only. And it’s so much like Robby in juvie, not wanting to fight but being forced to because people would not leave him alone.

A bit of Robby’s old Miyagi side comes out and he diffuses the situation with his charm and his smarts and sends Kyler and co packing, thus putting a stop to them bullying Hawk temporarily. He doesn’t apologise exactly, but he’ll say something along the lines of ‘oh, it was just a bit of hazing. hair grows back. We were just messing around. no hard feelings.’ trying to both minimise the assualt to assuage his own guilt, and partly to try explain himself to Hawk.

I would, in this fix it, not have Eli/Hawk totally regress into being a complete timid doormat. He is genuinely trying to embrace Miyagi-do for Demetri (not Mr Larusso), but he still has a lot of fight left in him. He knows how to ‘fight smart’ and look for weakness from Kreese.

(Robby, I’m so sorry, but you Daddy issues are so obviously that they are visible from space.)

Hawk wants to do the Daniel special, of striking back without raising a fist, so he can claim the moral high ground. so he’d come for Robby’s Daddy issues like a WWII howizter.

He’d say something like “Yeah, Sensei Lawrence says I never needed the hair to be a badass anyway. He told me he thinks I’m awesome, and accepts me just as I am. So that was nice to hear. Your Dad’s been really supportive to me. He’s even okay with me joining Miyagi-do, if I think it’s the right fit for me. Mr Larusso’s been really understanding and Miyagi-do is really helping me find inner peace. You might like to try it sometime, Robby.”

For extra bonus points, Hawk could gently pat Robby on the shoulder and say something I like “I forgive you. I know how you have to prove yourself over in Cobra Kai, and I think maybe you just need to be shown a better way, and learn how to have mercy.”

Ding Ding Ding. Hawk hit on Robby’s issues with his Daddy, his replacement daddy in Mr Larusso, the fact that he is occupying Robby’s old place of pride as the Miyagi good guy and supplanted him , all while ‘accepting’ his apology. They just need to be shown a better way used to be Robby’s line, and now Hawk’s taken it and weaponised Miyagi passivity against Robby. highlighting the fact taht Robby has been cast out and rejected by all the Miyagi-dos, but they will accept Hawk in their midst.

It would also hint that while Robby has been raging at Johnny and pushing him away wall season, secretly he longs to have the support and acceptance that his Dad freely gives to Miguel and now Hawk.

Robby would show how this breaks his heart for a brief second before he covers it and storms off. Hawk would repeat Robby’s words back to him. ‘no hard feelings’ - but he would also have a split second of looking perturbed that he had been such a dick, and hurt someone so bad without even throwing a punch.

Robby’s jealousy would flare up, and while he couldn’t attack Hawk - he lashes out at Miguel in the fight by the pool. - and that would be the source behind his extreme anger when he points out to Miguel that he is the replacement goldfish and Johnny only wants him because he can’t have Robby.

Oh my god, it’s a like a reverse of the school fight, she doesn’t love you she loves me thing that Miguel said to Robby, only twice as devastaing because Johnny was the one they were fighting over all the time.

I would also let Hawk have a moment with Demetri and discuss the nature of Miyagi pasifism, because he’s still trying to understand. He’ll ask something like, is it fighting dirty if you say literally the meanest thing you can think of saying to someone, because you know it will crush them emotionally - but you don’t raise you hand to them.

Demetri will shrug and be like ‘Mr Larusso says as long as we don’t strike first, anything goes’. Because that is Daniel’s vibe this season.

Hawk will look a little regretful at being so unrelentingly mean to Robby. Sure he didn’t hit him, but what he did was equally as dickish, and I’d like him to reflect on it.

This scene would add so much weight and nuance to Robby and Hawk’s fight in the AVT. And gives Hawk more dignity and agency in how own story, and show that he actually is taking something from the Miygai teachings, while questioning Daniel’s methods and interpretations of those teachings.

While also showing that Robby, at his core, is still a kind-hearted person who does feel bad when he harms someone.

(honestly, what was with all the Miyagi-dos acting like he was suddenly satan? Robby spent most of the season chilling with Tory and being a big brother to Kenny. The worst thing he did was shave hawk. and that didn’t even effect any MD kids.)

Robby’s failed attempt to make amends with Hawk would mirror Anthony genuinely trying to apologise to Kenny at the AVT and being unsuccessful. It would also fuel his determination to still act respectful and fight fair during their AVT match, because he doesn’t want to prove all the MDs and Hawk right about him.

-0-

Johnny’s side of ep 8 can stay unchanged. I actually loved the implication that Johnny and Shannon are on better terms. Shannon can sense when something is really off with a guy and Terry Silver’s over the top gifts of the suit and the car to her son have sent off all her alarm bells.

She goes to Johnny, and because he’s not home and he doesn’t have a phone - she just waits. How long did she wait to talk to him. and She seems sure that Johnny will be able to do something to help/ keep the creep away from Robby.

And Johnny does - or tries to, at least.

This scene showed that Johnny and Shannon, while completely hopeless, do genuinely love their kid and can try work together to help him.

Johnny, aware of a problem with Robby, having an immediate ill-thought out emotional response, rushing off with a half-cocked plan and no forethought, and putting himself in a pyshically dangerous situation before an emotionally dangerous one (trying to talk to Robby again? Nah, easier to wander blithely into this incredibly obvious trap set by a psychopath). This Johnny is a welcome relief. this is what I’m talking about. Complete disaster ma with no plan, but he actually does care.

note: Silver is obviously fishing for weaknesses, just like we saw hawk do earlier. and Johnny and Robby’s biggest weakness is often each other. and both those predators zeroed in on that.

extra note: The silver kreese Johnny fucked up thing in the old dojo was interesting on so many levels, but especially the level where Silver wonders why Kreese sent him after Daniel back in ‘85, when Johnny was the one who ‘betrayed him’ and left Cobra Kai, and Johnny’s departure made all the other students leave too (on account of that little strangulation issues).

Silver’s assumption that Kreese wants to beat Johnny to a pulp/to death (lets face it, neither of these men are great at restraint) for the crime of betraying his father figure - and Kreese is resulting discomfort. I haven’t quite figured out what was going on, but damn it was compelling.

worried note: Silver sure does love kicking a lawrence, and the fact that he used the exact same moves on Johnny and robby sends me insane.

The I love you/ I love you Robby scene fucking took me out. that can stay too.

-0-

The AVT

Honestly, I wouldn’t change that much. The way Johnny and Robby could not stop staring at each other. Like Robby was so over-the-top in the first AVT with the constant staring, but now it’s happening on both sides.

I would have Silver give Kreese a questioning look/hard time when he returns from talking to Johnny in the hallway, and Kreese get defensive. Silver will make some off hand comment about how Kreese still can’t be mad about what he did to Johnny the other night.

Robby is right there, and will wonder what they did to his Dad. he’s getting more disillusioned and vocal in his questions. Silver will same something about how the lessons he taught Robby can be used everyday. He was merely conducting an excerise looking for a weakness in their opponent. I would then have him put an hand on Robby’s shoulder posessively and eye-ball Johnny like the creepy mofo he is. Johnny’s reaction is predicatbly devastated.

Johnny and Robby have been having staring competitions all day, and he’s a cluey kid. so I’d want him to put it together, that despite all his assertions that he was in control and he was choosing his own way and he wasn’t anyone’s pawn - in the end he still was. He’s been used as a chess peice against his father but Kreese and Silver without even being aware of it.

But that is just one extra ingredient in the horrible-no-good-day of disillusionment for Robby. oh, Robby. I felt for him so much in the AVT. They way his sweatbands looked like manacles - like he’d chained himself through a series of crappy decisions, thinking he was making himself free and powerful and finding what ‘worked’, but in the end he was just being trapped in a no-win situation and used and discarded - again.

I would have Robby’s reaction shot when Miguel collapses and cries out for Johnny. Look, I think Robby was perfectly content hating Miguel and not feeling guilty when it looked like Miguel had fully recovered and was living the perfect life. But I think it would be another thing all together, for Robby to be reminded that he has actually caused a devastaing and still on-going, (potentially life-long) injury. Seeing Miguel writhing in pain and knowing that he was ultimately the cause should have affected Robby. and it’s another extra ingredient in his horrible day.

Lastly, I would have Robby also see how gentle Daniel and Johnny are with Sam after she loses. Sam gets comforted by both of them. I’d have Robby here his Dad say something like “it doesnt matter who wins or loses, the point is you did your best and you were a total badass. You kept going even after an elbow to the eye, and if you can get through that, you cam get through anything.”

Poor Robby, - how bad did he want that comfort that Sam was getting?

Enough to follow his Dad, and for the first time after a seaon of actively pushing Johnny away, Robby reaches out. then we’d have our hug scene.

I feel like if we’d gotten an extra handful of scenes, their whole hug would have been off the charts. It doesn’t need much changing, just four scenes and a few extra moments and reactions shots. And that is what I would do to ‘fix’ Johnny’s arc so it drove the other characters forward, while still working with the same story beats.

Edit to add: I have now started a fic based on this concept.

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once-upon-an-imagine · 3 years

Text

I Bet My Life - Severus Snape

A/N: ahh xD so here it is! I have no idea how this happened but I really liked it! hope you guys too :) I have been in a very Snape mood lately so feel free to request him xD Professor!reader

Warnings: use of Sectusempra and mm mentions of sex? I guess, idk better safe than sorry

Disclaimer: I don’t own Harry Potter :) gif isn't mine :)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

I Bet My Life

I've told a million lies but now I tell a single truth There's you in everything I do

"Professor Black, what can I do for you?" Severus Snape said, looking up from the assignments he was grading, but only for a minute before he went back to his task.

"Don't 'Professor Black' me, Severus Snape!" you said, annoyed, making him look back up again. "Why did I have to hear from some third-year students that you are dueling Gilderoy Lockhart tomorrow at noon?"

"Because I am" he simply said.

"Why?"

"Because he wanted me to help him demonstrate different spells against the Dark Arts... obviously."

"Severus!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!" he said, getting up, towering over you.

To anybody else in this school, with the exception of a few of his colleagues, that would have been enough to intimidate them and make them drop the subject. But not you.You had known him for way too long. Plus, you grew up with Sirius and Regulus. And your parents were Walburga and Orion Black. You were their only daughter and had been placed in Ravenclaw. Needless to say, in their eyes, you were no better than Sirius. So, there were very few things that could intimidate this woman. Let alone, Severus Snape who had been your friend since you were in school and who had been your partner (officially) for the past year.

"Why are you doing this, really?"

"Why would you think I have an ulterior motive?"

"Oh, so you're helping him out of the kindness of your heart?" you said with a small chuckle. "Don't make me laugh, Sev. You even make me do something in return whenever I ask for a favor" you told him with a smirk.

"Who says I didn't ask Lockhart for something in return?"

"What did you ask him for?" you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Excuse me?" he said in his same, usual tone, but you noticed him tensing up.

"What did you ask him in return for your help?"

"I asked him to stay away from you" he mumbled, but you heard him.

"You did what?"

"You heard me, Black" he glared at you and you glared back at him. He only used your last name when he was mad at you, no matter how many times you had told him you hated it.

"So you would rather duel Lockhart than admit to him that we are a couple?"

It was exhausting. Ever since he started teaching DADA this year, he had tried to get you to go out with him. He was becoming increasingly insisting with each passing day. He sometimes even did it in front of Severus, but he was astoundingly good at pretending he didn't care. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he wasn't pretending. You had wanted to let Lockhart know so many times, but you had agreed with Severus to keep your relationship private from the very beginning. Although you were positive that Albus and Minerva had a bet going on about when you were going to get together with the other professors.

"What goes on between you and I is nobody else's concern. We have talked about this" he said in his same monotone voice.

"It does if it helps me get rid of him!" you snapped back. "Do you have any idea how frustrating is to enter my class each time with a stupid note that has his photograph signed by him, every day? Have you not noticed how much I try to not sit next to him during every meal or appear to be busy so he won't come talk to me? Or do you simply not care-?"

"OF COURSE I CARE!" he yelled back, making you jump a little. "Do you think I don't notice how he looks at you? How he talks to you? How he talks about you?" he said, furious. "I do and it drives me insane!"

"Then why won't you just tell him instead of staging this whole duel-?" you stopped mid-sentence when you realized something. "Wait a minute" you said looking back at him. "What happens if Lockhart wins?"

"How dare you? You don't think I'll win?"

"Of course you'll win, Severus" you said, rolling your eyes. "But what if for some weird twist of fate he beats you? I doubt he'll agree to stay away from him if he won, would he?" you said, walking towards him and making him walk backwards.

If any student were to walk in, they would not believe that their sweet, kind, Charms professor, head of Ravenclaw, had such power over the dark, scary Potions master. He was terrified of you. Not that he'd ever show it, even to you, but you knew.

"It does not matter. I will defeat him" he said, calmly.

"Severus" you glared at him. "I am not going to ask you again" you threatened.

"The same thing" he muttered looking away.

"Excuse me?" you said even angrier than before, making him walk back until he hit his potions cabinet.

"I can explain-"

"No!" you snapped, raising your finger at him. "Are you meaning to tell me that you and Lockhart are dueling for me?"

"I didn't say that-"

"You said that if you win, he will stay away from me and you just said that if he wins... you have to stay away from me?"

"He is not going to win-"

"That is NOT the point, Severus!" you yelled at him. He had to admit, he had never seen you this furious. "How could you agree to this?" you whispered, your eyes filling up with angry tears. Severus felt his heart breaking. You never cried. He had seen you cry twice in his life. Once, when Regulus died. And the second time, when Sirius was sent to Azkaban. "Does our relationship really means so little to you?"

"No!" he said, quickly. "How could you think that-?" he said, trying to walk closer to you, but this time, you walked backwards.

"How could I not?" you said, your voice breaking and one tear falling down your cheek. "You chose to gamble me away like some disposable thing to you!"

"No! It is not like that! Love, listen to me-" he tried again but you placed your arms around yourself like a protective shield against him as more tears fell down.

"No" you said, stepping away. "Don't call me that" you said, knowing he rarely used pet names and he was doing it to wear you down. "You don't get to call me that" you glared at him before wiping off your tears. You then started hearing the ruckus outside and you knew it was time for his next lesson.

"Love-"

"Your next class is here" you said, composing yourself as some sixth-year students started walking inside and sitting at their desks. "I won't keep you any longer, Professor Snape" you said, making Severus' heart break.

You never called him that. Not even before you started dating. You had been friends for over a lifetime (sometimes more) and you loved teasing him since he said you were in a professional environment but you never cared. He watched you walk out the door and composed himself, before turning his wrath towards his students.

You walked out of his class and composed yourself before you made your way to your next lesson. You were too occupied with every thought floating in your mind, you accidentally bumped into two identical redheads.

"Professor Black" they said at the same time before they both hid whatever they were holding behind their backs. "Sorry, we didn't see you there" George said with a warm smile.

You could tell them apart. Not so much by their physical appearance but more by their personalities. If you were careful, you would be able to notice it.

"We were just on our way to Transfiguration" Fred said quickly. "Lovely seeing you, Professor" they both finished at the same time as they walked around and past you.

"Stop" you instructed and, even if you had your back to them, you knew they listened to your command. You slowly turned around and smiled when you saw you were right. "What are you two hiding?" you asked with an arched eyebrow.

"Us? Nothing, of course" they said at the same time with smiles so innocent, anyone that didn't know them, would think they were just as well behaved as their older brothers.

"Are you two placing bets about Snape and Lockhart's duel for tomorrow?"

Both of them sighed, looking at each other, impressed. "How do you always do that?"

"Let's just say, I have seen my fair share of... mischievous boys" you said, with a smirk. They had always reminded you of James and Sirius, especially the many times you had caught them in your times while being a Prefect.

"Are you going to tell on us?" George asked as they both pouted their big brown eyes at you.

"Not if you give me 5% of your winnings" you said, shrugging your shoulders.

"5%?" Fred asked outraged.

"Well, is either that or I would have to report you boys to Professor McGonagall and then... no winnings" you explained with a sweet smile.

"Fine" they both said defeated. "Would you like to place your bet?"

You let out a small sigh. You might as well have some fun with this. "Fine" you said taking out your money. "Put me down with fifteen galleons" you said, handing them to George, who had the jar of money.

"Fifteen galleons?" they said at the same time. Most likely nobody had bet as much. "On Lockhart?" Fred asked.

"Lockhart? No, on Snape, obviously" you said, rolling your eyes a little and they looked even more shocked. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just... well, you're the only girl that has bet on Snape" George informed you.

"Yes, well my judgment is not clouded by Lockhart's ridiculous charms" you said, crossing your arms over your chest. "Now... I believe you two were on your way to Transfiguration?"

"Of course" they said at the same time. "You look lovely today, Professor" Fred continued.

"As usual" George added.

"See you in class!"

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You were pacing around back and forth in front of the Great Hall. It was almost time. You saw the second-year of all houses walking inside, talking about the duel that was about to take place as if it was the best thing that happened in this school. You could feel your heart beating so heavy, you were almost certain everyone could hear it.

"Professor Black?" you were snapped out of your thoughts by the voice of one of your students.

"Hermione, hello" you replied kindly.

"You came to see the duel?" Ron asked, excitedly.

"Well, I just want to make sure nobody's getting murdered" you muttered, but apparently the trio of friends heard you. "Oh, I'm only joking. I am certain Professors Snape and Lockhart are merely dueling for educational purposes" you said, smiling nervously at them.

"Who do you think it's going to win?" Harry asked you, curiously.

"Why don't we... move along?" you said, pushing them inside the Great Hall. "You should go take your places" you instructed them as they discussed which professor was going to win. "What are you two doing here?" you asked when you saw the Weasley twins close to the entrance. "This isn't your class! You know what? I don't even want to know" you said, before walking into the Great Hall.

It was set up to have a fair dueling match with all the tables lined up as one long stage. You spotted Severus at the end of the tables that were going to be used for said match. He caught a glimpse of you and made the man he was talking to turn to you as well.

"Darling, how wonderful!" Lockhart said, happily as he stepped onto the table. "You received my invitation to come and see what I do best" he said flirty, making you roll your eyes.

"It's Professor Black, as I have told you many times, Professor Lockhart" you said, firmly. "And I have come to make sure that neither of you two buffoons hurt yourselves, or a student for that matter" you said, walking between the crowd of students, taking your place.

"Why we would never" he assured you with his famous charming smile. "Now gather round!" he yelled, making all the students take their places. "Gather round. Can everybody see me?" he asked, walking up and down the tables. "Can you all hear me?" he asked, having everyone's attention on him. "Excellent" he said, smiling. "In light of the dark events of recent weeks, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves" he explained, stopping in front of you. "Or a damsel in distress" he said winking at you as you rolled your eyes once more. "As I myself have done on countless occasions" he said as he kept on walking. "For full details, see my published works" he said arrogantly before taking off his cape and throwing it at you, but you stepped out of the way, and a couple of girls behind you started fighting over it.

"That Lockhart's is really something, isn't he Professor?" Justin Finch-Fletchley said smiling up at you. "Awfully brave chap" he added.

"I think he fancies you" you heard on your other side, Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, and Hermione Granger all grinning at you.

"You are so lucky" Hannah added.

You decided to remain quiet and then looked back at the other fighter in the duel. He hadn't been able to take his eyes off you. He had tried ever since the day before to get you to talk to him but you had managed to avoid him every single time.

"Pay attention, kids" you told them.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape" Lockhart continued. Snape slowly walked up the tables and closer to Lockhart. Arms in front of his chest, unfazed by this whole situation. You couldn't help but feel your heart clenching as he got closer. Merlin, how you hated him. And how you loved him. "He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration" he said, before winking at you. "Now, I don't want any of you, youngsters, to worry. You'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him. Never fear" he said, smiling at the room.

Without meaning to, you let out a laugh, followed by a loud snort. You widened your eyes and felt your cheeks burning when you noticed everyone had turned to look at you. You cleared your throat and composed yourself, missing how the corner of Severus' lip lifted only slightly.

"Oh, I am terribly sorry" you apologized, faking a cough. "I think I am coming down with something. As you were" you motioned for the two men to continue.

The two men walked into the middle of the tables, facing one another, raising their wands, before swinging them to their sides. They bowed to each other before they turned around and started walking in opposite directions. Nobody dared to take their eyes off the two men on stage. Your eyes followed Severus until he turned around and stood in his pose as Lockhart counted.

"One... two... three!"

"Expelliarmus!" a blast had come out of Severus' wand, before Lockhart could process it, sending the DADA teacher flying backwards. Most of the male students seemed amused, but the majority of the female students looked worried as Lockhart tried to sit up straight.

"Do you think he's alright?" Hermione asked.

"Who cares?"

You froze for a moment. Did you say that out loud? But it was Ron Weasley next to you. Thank Merlin.

"Mr. Weasley" you scowled him. You were still a Professor. You at least had to pretend to be concerned so you tried your best to hide your smile.

"An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape" Lockhart said, composing himself once he stood back up. "But if you don't mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. And if I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy" he said cockily.

"Perhaps it would be prudent to first teach the students to block unfriendly spells, Professor" Snape said in his classic condescending tone with his classic condescending smirk. You forced yourself to stop grinning at the scene in front of you.

"An excellent suggestion, Professor Snape" Lockhart said, forcing a smile. "Let's go again" he said as they resumed their positions.

The two of them kept on going a few rounds, Severus easily beating Lockhart for most of the rounds, except one or two where he had gotten distracted. You started noticing that Lockhart's frustration made him escalate each round with a new spell. Snape managing to block it each time, however, you knew it would only be a matter of time until he started escalating his spells as well.

"I believe that should be enough of a demonstration for the students to-"

"Nonsense!" Lockhart interrupted you as he stood up once again. "We are settling this once and for all" he defied Snape as he stood in front of him.

"My pleasure" Snape said from his place.

"No!" you said, stepping on the table as well. "This has gone on long enough! You two are turning this into an egotistical battle instead of an educational activity for students to learn charms and spells that can help them protect themselves!"

"Pardon me, my dear, but this is my class" he said, slowly shoving you out of the way. "And we're going to finish this like men" he said, making you let out an offended scoff.

"Excuse me?" you said with an arched eyebrow and then you turned to look back at Snape. "Are you just going to stand there and let this continue?"

"If Professor Lockhart would like to do one last attempt of demonstration" he said in his monotone voice. "I don't see what the problem is" he finished.

"Fine!" you let out a sarcastic laugh before you climbed down the tables. "Go ahead and finish yourselves then, see if I care" you muttered.

"Oh I will finish you alright" Lockhart said to Snape. "And when I do, you will finally have to stay away from her and I'll have her all to myself-"

"You talk a lot for somebody who has lost the last few rounds, Lockhart" Snape said calmly.

The two of them remained in their places and were talking only within each other's earshot, but you had a pretty good idea of what was going on. And you knew it wasn't going to end well.

"I already have planned our first date" he taunted him. "I'm going to take her to the Three Broomsticks, then Madam Poodifoot's perhaps, you know how women love that place" he kept on rambling on. Snape made his best to show that he was not getting to him but you knew that whatever the DADA teacher was saying, was upsetting the Potions master. You knew by the way he was gripping his wand. And you also knew he was close to losing it as Lockhart went on. "And then back to my chambers with a bottle of Firewhisky-"

Lockhart was sent backwards, much as he did earlier in the duel. The students gasped shocked. Snape hadn't even said a spell out loud.

"Oh no" you muttered to yourself. It was happening.

"Right, students. Professor Snape has just demonstrated how a non-verbal spell can also be helpful-" Lockhart didn't get to finish because another spell was sent his way, Snape pointing his wand directly at him.

"That is enough!" you yelled, as you tried to get the students to back off the tables, but the two dueling men barely acknowledged you; it was useless.

The dark-haired wizard kept on throwing spells and cursed at the blonde one, who was trying with all his might to avoid them, as he got his wand back in his hand. He walked over to Snape, managing to dodge the spells coming out of his wand.

"Did I touch a nerve, Professor Snape?" Lockhart mocked him, once he was in front of his face again. "I have noticed the way you look at her, you know?"

"I advise you, Lockhart to walk away right now" he said in a low voice. He knew he could not lose his temper in front of all the students, and in front of you.

"The only way I am walking away out of here is Professor Black in my arm" he said with a smirk. "Maybe I'll have a little celebration with her afterwards-"

"I am warning you" Snape said feeling his hand start to shake.

"I bet you she'd love it. To be with someone like me. I bet you I can have her scream my name in no time-"

Lockhart flew backwards once more, but he was getting quicker at recovering and he was back on his feet before Snape thought he could, so he quickly threw another spell at him. You knew that face too well. You had only seen it once in your fifth year when he used it against James Potter. You knew what it was. You were genuinely surprised when Lockhart managed to block it, deviating its way. You saw it making its way through the students and towards Neville Longbottom. Why did it always have to be Neville Longbottom? Everyone quickly dispersed, avoiding getting hit and before you could think of anything else, you pushed Neville out of the way, making the curse hit you instead.

"LOVE!" Snape yelled, feeling his blood run cold. He saw you fly across the room and hit the stone-cold wall before you landed on the floor, screaming in pain, blood spurting from your face and your body as if you had been slashed with an invisible sword. He instantly ran to your side and he could barely register the noise of scared students around him. He heard Lockhart saying something about that's how you block a spell. "My love, look at me" he said, holding your hand, and cupping your cheek with his other hand, not even caring about who could hear or see him. "It's okay, love. I'm here" he said, stroking your trembling hand with his.

"S-Sev?" you said, breathing heavily and looking him into his dark onyx eyes with your frightened ones.

"GET EVERYONE OUT!" Snape yelled directly at Lockhart, who was now at your side too. "And go get Madam Pomfrey!"

"Right, I should-"

"NOW LOCKHART!" he snapped again. You started feeling lightheaded as you saw the Great Hall clear in less than two minutes. You felt him move and tightened the grip on his hand.

"Don't leave me, please" you begged, crying as you tried to normal your breathing.

"I'm not leaving you, love" he said, kissing your forehead. "Ever" he assured you. "I am so sorry, angel" he whispered before he grabbed his wand. "This is going to sting a little" he warned you and you nodded gripping his hand harder.

Severus drew his wand and traced it over the deep wounds on your body, muttering an incantation that sounded almost like a song. The flow of blood seemed to ease. He then wiped the residue from your face and repeated his spell. Now the wounds seemed to be knitting. His heart breaking with every pained whine and tear that came out of you. Never in a million years would he ever want you to experience such pain. Pain that he created nonetheless and pain that came from his wand. From his mind. He did this to you.

"D-don't cry, l-love" you said, cupping his cheek with your free hand. He hadn't even noticed he was until you wiped the tear away with your thumb. He was about to reply but you started closing your eyes.

"No, no. Stay with me, love" he begged. "Love, please" he said with his voice breaking. "I love you" you heard him say before everything went black.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

You woke up a couple of hours later and saw that you were in the Hospital Wing. As your eyes adjusted to the light, you noticed you were at the furthest bed and there was some kind of curtains, separating you from the rest of the beds. You sat up, regretting it the second you felt every small cut on your body making you let out a pained sound.

"What do you think you're doing?" you heard the familiar voice you loved so much, walking inside your little room and placing the tray of food on your nightstand. "You should be resting" he said, sitting down next to you.

"Sorry" you said with a small smile. "Is that for me?" you asked pointing at the tray.

"Of course it is, love" he said in an incredibly soft tone. One you were sure you had never heard him use before. "But you have to drink this first" he said, handing you a small bottle with a potion in it. You grabbed it and did as you were told before you spat it back out. "Hey!"

"That is bloody disgusting" you said, cleaning yourself up.

"Excuse me? I brewed that potion myself" he complained. "And you have to drink it to heal faster" he instructed.

"I'm sorry, love but it tastes horrible" you argued.

"I don't care. Drink it" he said with a firm tone, grabbing it and giving it to you again. You hesitated and tried pouting your way out of it, but finally gave in since Severus wasn't budging, and you drank it down. Severus tried not to laugh at the face you made but you managed to finish it.

"There, are you happy?" you pouted. "Hey, what's wrong?" you asked when she saw him frowning. "I'm fine, Sev-"

"I'm sorry" he said, taking a sit on your bed and holding your hand to his lips before kissing it. "I am so sorry about everything" he whispered. "You were right" he said, cupping your cheek with his free hand. "I am so sorry, my love-"

"Sev, it's okay-"

"No. Is not okay" he said, with his voice breaking. "I did this to you. I have never wanted anything to hurt you and I-" he stopped, looking away. "And it could have been a student. This is all my fault" he said, taking a deep breath. "I should have never agreed to duel that imbecile" he kept going. "I should not have let him get to me, making me lose my temper" he added. "But most importantly, I should have told him that we are a couple" he said, making you smile slightly. "I should have told anybody who would listen that we are a couple. I don't want you to think that our relationship means little to nothing to me. Our relationship means the world to me" he assured you, kissing your hand again. "It always has. You have no idea how proud it makes me feel to call you mine. The only reason why I said I wanted to keep our relationship private is because... because of my past, love" he said. "I don't want anything in this world to harm you. And being connected to me will-"

Severus was cut off when you pulled his face and crashed his lips against yours. He tried to stop you but gave in since he knew how stubborn you were and knew better than to stop you from doing something you wanted to do.

"I don't care about that, love" you said, with a smile once you broke apart. "Whatever happened in the past, is over. And whatever comes..." you sighed. "We'll figure it out, together. There is nobody else that I would want by my side" you whispered before giving him a peck on the lips.

"But I am-"

"I know what you are" you said, smiling. "And I am a Black, Sev. You know what Regulus did and Sirius..." you stopped. Sirius was still a touchy subject for you and he knew that. "Nobody is really safe for what's to come, love" you assured him. "I just know that I want to spend as much time with you as I possibly can... if you want to" you said, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

"You deserve better-"

"I deserve someone who took care of me when I wasn't able to take care of myself after I lost my two brothers" you told him with a serious expression on your face. "I deserve somebody who helped me throughout my first year at teaching here so I wouldn't make a fool out of myself" you continued. "I deserve somebody who makes potions for me whenever I get sick, no matter how horrible they may taste" you said with a small giggle. "I deserve someone that cares about me the way you do, Sev" you assured him.

"I just don't want you to get hurt-"

"I won't" you assured him. "You won't let that happen" you said smiling. "I know you won't" you said, kissing him once more.

"You really trust me that much?"

"Are you joking? I even bet fifteen galleons that you would beat Lockhart today" you said giggling. Severus widened his eyes in surprise and arched his eyebrows at you. "What? I believe I won" you smirked. "Tell Fred and George they owe me my money" you told him, making him laugh a little. "I'd bet my life on you, Severus Snape."

"You really are something else, Professor Black" he said, rolling his eyes before he kissed your forehead.

"Thank you, Professor Snape-"

"No" he cut you off. "Don't call me that, please. Ever again" he begged, making your smile grow wider.

"So..." you said looking innocently at him. "Does this mean that everyone knows we're a couple?" Severus let out a small laugh and nodded.

"I imagine that if they didn't hear me on the Great Hall when you fell, they did when I yelled it at Lockhart in the Hospital Wing" he told you. "Minerva and Albus were there so..."

"Oh, so by now the entire school probably knows" you said laughing a little.

"Most likely, yes" he nodded. "Did you know Albus and Minerva had a bet going on with the other professors about when we would get together?"

"I knew it!"

"You did?"

"Well, I suspected it, really. Minerva and Pomona kept on asking me if we were already together every month" you admitted.

"Apparently, it started when we were students" he informed you.

"Really?" you said with an arched eyebrow. "Who won?"

"I think Hagrid" he admitted, making you laugh a little as he took his seat back next to your bed. "You should eat something, love" he said, pointing at the tray and you did as you were told.

"Sev?"

"Yes, my darling?" you blushed a little. You weren't used to him calling you lovely pet names but you were not complaining.

"I don't know if I was delirious because I hit my head or if I imagined it but... I think I heard you say something to me before I blacked out?" you said with a small smirk.

Severus cleared his throat before he looked at his Daily Prophet. "You did."

"Hmm... and what was it?"

"You’re pushing it..."

"Please?" you pouted. "I just hit my head and almost bled out-"

"I love you" he quickly said, not wanting to remember just hours ago, when he had never felt more frightened in his entire life. "I love you, Miss Black. I always have" he admitted.

You bit your lip, trying to prevent your smile from getting bigger but it was basically impossible. You sat up, ignoring every pain in your body, and brought him closer to you.

"I love you too, Severus Snape" you said kissing him again.

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: aahh xD I hope you like it! I don’t get much Snape requests but I love them so... please ask away ;)

#marauders #marauders imagine #severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus snape x reader #severus snape oneshot

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senorarelojes · 3 years

Text

Excerpt from ‘Your Favourite Slave’

This is an extremely belated Christmas present for the very lovely @pinksyndication. Since Mo wanted to take a peek at their present, I’ll post an excerpt here. I swear I will finish all the WIPs floating around!

Notes: Fantasy AU, themes of slavery/sexual slavery (but no non-con or rape).

. Alan knew he wasn’t alone the moment he shut the door to his chamber. He’d been on guard ever since he - and the rest of their entourage - had set foot in this foreign kingdom. There was something not quite right in the land of Essex, a seafaring kingdom that was rumoured to be established by pirates. The more Alan saw of the coarse land and even coarser people, the more he’d been tempted to head straight home to Londinium. But he couldn’t let his brothers and his people down; they needed access to the well-equipped, strategically positioned ports of Essex, so Alan had led the Londinium delegation here without a complaint.

Now, after a whole day of fruitless negotiating with the frustratingly tight-lipped Prince Martin, Alan just wanted dinner and a hot bath.

The chamber given to royal visitors was far more luxurious than Alan had expected. Upon opening the door, one was greeted with a neat and cosy solar, equipped with a lush couch and an oak desk that provided ink, parchment and candles for Alan to do his work. The solar had a secondary door that led to the main bedchamber, where a massive four-poster bed draped in the lushest silks awaited him. The windows overlooked the sea too, which was a view Alan admittedly enjoyed.

Although there was no one in the solar, there must have been someone waiting in the main bedchamber. The air was spiced with traces of a sweet, musky perfume meant to entice, and Alan could see the flickering light of the fireplace already lit. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, Alan stepped into the bedchamber, his eyes widening at what he saw.

A man was reclining across his mattress on his side, his head propped up with an elbow on the bed. One look at the man’s attire and appearance told Alan all he needed to know about why he was here; the man was dressed in white silk pyjama bottoms that looked soft to the touch, his upper body covered only with an indecently sheer tunic that left nothing to the imagination. Even then, Alan didn’t miss the black slave collar around the man’s neck.

They’d sent a pleasure slave to his room.

The man raked a hand through his hair, which was dark as a raven’s wing. It was a nice contrast against his pale skin, and his lips were the lushest Alan had ever seen on a man. At this point he licked them, leaving them even more moist and inviting.

However, that all paled in comparison to the main focal point of this astoundingly pretty picture: the man’s eyes. They were a warm greenish brown in the candlelight, framed by a set of long, dark lashes and full, masculine brows. There was an amused glint in those eyes too, which meant that Alan had been caught staring.

“What is this?” Alan kept his face as calm and impassive as possible.

The man shot him a knowing smile with just a touch of slyness. “The king sent me, my lord.” His voice was surprisingly sweet and husky, the vowels curiously elongated and rounded - typical of the Essex accent.

Alan arched an eyebrow at him. “Prince Martin told us the king is occupied with other matters.”

“So he is.” The man stretched out on the bed like an indecent feast. “Doesn’t mean the king can’t make sure his guests aren’t well taken care of.”

“Is that what you’re supposed to do?” Alan washed his hands in the little basin with the jar of water waiting for him. “Take care of me?”

Letting out a dirty laugh, the man grinned at Alan as he let his legs fall open. “All that and more, handsome.” He patted the bed. “Come here, I’ll make you feel good.”

Alan would be lying if he said he wasn’t tempted. He’d always preferred the company of women, although there were a few men who’d managed to turn his head. The man in his bed was leagues above them, in possession of every single attractive trait Alan liked about men.

Unfortunately, the collar on his neck reminded Alan that the man wasn’t in possession of his own free will. Alan’s brother, King Stephen, had outlawed slavery in Londinium fifteen years ago, but it wasn’t surprising that a kingdom like Essex - with a history steeped in piracy - would still be in favour of such an antiquated practice. In Alan’s opinion, sexual slavery was even worse. Forcing someone to warm your bed was a deplorable act. “No,” he said.

The man’s eyebrows jumped upwards. “No?” His mouth flattened into a thin line. “Does my appearance displease you?”

Alan couldn’t help his scoff. “On the contrary. If you only knew how pleasing you are to me, then you’d know how difficult it is for me to turn you away.”

The man’s face brightened. “So what’s the problem?”

Alan splashed his face with water before drying it with a towel. “I do not wish to force you.”

Now it was the man’s turn to scoff. “Believe me, mate, nothing about this is forced.” He eyed Alan with a slow, lazy smile as he began tugging down the hem of his silk harem trousers. “Just come over here. Then I can report to the king that I made you happy, and you’ll be in a good mood for the negotiations tomorrow.”

Alan flashed him an understanding smile. “I suppose the king wouldn’t be happy if I sent you away without...partaking of your services.”

The man shrugged. “He would be most displeased, yes. But you don’t have to worry about me.”

Alan had no idea what gruesome punishments awaited pleasure slaves who had not carried out royal orders. He didn’t want to get this poor man into trouble. “Look, what’s your name?”

“My name doesn’t matter,” the man said.

Alan fixed him with a steady look. “It matters to me.”

Surprise bloomed on the man’s face, followed by something that looked like curiosity. “Dave. My name is Dave.”

“Well, I’m Alan.”

Dave’s mouth curled up a little at the sides in amusement. “I’m well aware of who you are, Prince Alan.”

“No need to address me as so.” Alan gestured at the door leading to the solar. “I’m going to sleep on the couch outside. You can sleep in the bed and leave in the morning, if you like. So the king thinks you’ve fulfilled your duties.”

This actually made Dave bolt upright in astonishment, the sexy and coy act forgotten. “Wait-- you would let a lowly slave take your bed while you slept outside?”

“You’re not lowly.” Alan nodded at him in farewell as he shuffled out of the room. “Have a good night’s rest, Dave.”

As he suspected, the couch was far more comfortable than it looked. Alan unbuttoned his tunic before settling in on the couch’s soft cushions. He was so exhausted from days of travelling and the day’s pointless negotiations that he found himself nodding off quite quickly. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he thought he felt someone carefully draping a blanket over him.

When he woke up in the morning, the blanket was still there but Dave was already gone.

#dalan #pinksyndication #your favourite slave #will delete after posting #fanfic

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the1918 · 4 years

Photo

“put you on something new” - part 2

The frat!Steve x jock!Bucky College AU by @the1918 and @howdoyousleep3

Read Part 1

tw: mentions of drug use for this part

Steve is frozen. He is objectively aware that he’s still breathing but doesn’t totally remember what lungs are.

“With lips like those? Well, that’s a goddamn cryin’ shame…”

He knows he’s staring. He knows that Bucky’s eyes are a grayer blue than his own because they’re all Steve can look at, knows that those same eyes are gleaming with mirth more and more by the second.

Steve is frozen, because... Steve has lips that are suitable for sucking dicks? Preferable, even, for sucking dicks. Cocks. Steve knows this, because a future NFL first-round draft pick just told him as much.

And then a few seconds or weeks or something of the like pass by in silence and locked stares before Bucky breaks out in a fit of deep laughter. He throws his head back and his eyes crinkle at the edges, and even though Steve still feels like a deer in headlights he finds himself smiling, too, like a mirror that can’t help but reflect what’s in front of him.

“You’re something else, punk,” Bucky says, shaking his head with a chuckle.

Bucky looks into his near-empty cup before tossing back the last of the contents, stubbled neck exposed, and Steve’s brain is like a circuit board underwater. Bucky swallows and smiles, chucks the red plastic cup into a nearby trash can before slinging his arm around Steve’s shoulders like it’s something they do all the time. Before Steve can even react to the gesture, Bucky raises up his free hand, slides the index finger under Steve’s chin, using the leverage to tilt Steve’s face up half an inch. He does all of it like it’s the most casual thing in the world. It makes Steve’s spine melt like an ice cube.

“Relax, Rogers. Let’s get back to your party.”

***

They do return inside, and Steve spends the next hour in a near catatonic state. Bucky separates from Steve but never strays very far, always in the same room, always within eyesight. Steve watches as Bucky falls back into all the easy conversation he’s demonstrated all night long, and Steve makes himself return to some half-assed version of his regular kegger hosting duties. He throws out a couple of Pi Kapps that aren’t supposed to be there. He yells at Tony for Iron-Man’ing Rhodey for the second time that semester because “tin foil ain’t as cheap as you little rich boys think it is, dumbass.”

But Steve’s attention is never on any one thing for too long, because Bucky’s eyes are on him. Bucky’s eyes are on him. From his place across the room Steve watches someone hand Bucky a bottle of the good craft beer and Bucky takes it with a charming smile, and then Bucky’s nodding and chatting but he’s looking over his companion’s shoulder until he’s staring right at Steve. Steve looks back.

Bucky’s lips wrap around the neck of the bottle. He swallows a healthy gulp, and his throat bobs with it. Steve watches. Bucky winks. Steve likes pussy and lipstick and big tits. His feet trip over absolutely nothing.

Steve’s night doesn’t get any less confusing after that. He always makes a point to never get completely smashed at his own keggers, but tonight he finds himself maintaining nothing more than an even buzz. He doesn’t feel the usual need to constantly heft a drink up to his mouth, to imbibe and numb his mind to anything but fun. But he does find that he feels drunk in a completely different way, knows it’s not from cheap alcohol but from the weight of Bucky’s attention. Steve certainly does stumble like he’s drunk when Bucky comes up behind him and cups a warm hand at the back of his neck as he’s passing by, on his way to the bathroom.

He’s so caught up in living his bizarre new reality that Steve is floored when he looks at his phone to find that it’s already one in the morning. The party is by no means over but it’s definitely winding down, so it’s no surprise when he sees Bucky’s crew start to group up again and pat each others’ shoulders, obvious exchanges of ‘you ready to roll?’ passing between them. Steve’s stomach sinks with an explicable volume of disappointment.

And it’s like Bucky must sense what Steve’s feeling, because when he walks over to Steve to say his goodbye he’s got this look on his face that could almost be apologetic, if not for the odd twinkle in his eye.

“Stevie,” he drawls. His voice is deeper and throatier than it had been early in the night. “I know I said it before, but you throw a hell of a kegger, punk.”

Before Steve can respond Bucky throws an arm around his shoulders, for the second time that night. He does it exactly like he had earlier on the porch, right after he had ruined Steve’s life with the news that Steve’s got lips made to slide a dick between.

“Yeah, uh. Thanks, man.” Steve can feel the absolute meatball expression on his own face.

Bucky doesn’t take his arm away like Steve expects. He tightens it instead, bringing Steve’s body in closer, and Steve falls into it easily. Bucky acts like they’re the only two people in the room when he moves his lips in until they’re just inches away from Steve’s ear.

“Really, though. I had a real fucking good time tonight.” Steve can’t see Bucky’s face from this angle but he can feel the breath against his cheek, the way it clearly takes on the shape of Bucky’s smile. “I seen you been quiet for awhile. Gettin’ sleepy?”

Steve laughs nervously, shakes his head. “Nah, just--” He hiccups, for some ungodly reason. “Opposite, actually. Never can sleep after these things. Probably gonna go upstairs soon and light a spliff just so I can shut my eyes.”

At that Bucky makes a low, interested noise into his ear before pulling back a little, leaving the hand on Steve’s shoulder but moving so he can face him. His left eyebrow has an astoundingly charismatic arch to it.

“That so, Stevie?” he says. Steve starts to wonder if it’s possible to die from a nickname. “Don’t suppose you’d wanna share some of that bud, would’ya?”

The hand on Steve’s shoulder squeezes down on his flesh for one full second longer than meets the definition of a regulation Bro Squeeze. Bucky’s lips are tilted sideways into a smile that says that he wasn’t actually asking Steve a question. Steve’s brain feels like it’s lagging behind reality in a way that makes him think he might already be high.

“Uh, sure-- for sure, yeah. Bro. For sure.” Steve’s mouth is so, so dry that when Bucky licks his own spit-slick lips it feels like he’s just bragging. “Come on up, if you wanna. S’ plenty.”

Bucky’s half-grin grows. It splits his face. The hand on Steve’s shoulder falls away and brushes against the entire plane of his bicep and forearm on the way down.

“Yo, Dum-Dum!” Bucky hollers back towards the door. He turns his head to get his crew’s attention. “You guys head on out.”

A couple of ‘o-kay’ hand signs are thrown their direction and the front door is opened, the entourage that Bucky had arrived with hours ago shuffling out.

When Bucky turns back to Steve his blue-gray eyes look darker than before. His lashes are lower. Steve feels like he’s about to be told a secret, something that Bucky didn’t want to say until there were fewer eyes on them. The points of Bucky’s canines look sharp when he smiles.

“Lead the way, Stevie.”

(credit to the incredibly resourceful @mareviils for the perfect DSL photo find)

---

@howdoyousleep3

UPDATE: Read Part 3

#BRO #stucky #stevebucky #steve x bucky #steve/bucky #steve rogers #bucky barnes #captain america #put you on something new #collabble #tw: drug use

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copper-wasp · 4 years

Text

Jesse McCree x Reader: Missed Call

Rating: E

Words: 4,395

Tags: Accidental Voyeurism, Cunnilingus, Face Sitting, Blow Jobs, Praise Kink, Creampie, This Turned Into Daddy Kink and I’m Not Sorry

Also posted to AO3!

For my fellow McCree fucker, @amicitiayes 💖

With a groan, Jesse McCree rolled over to angrily gaze at his phone in the darkness of his room, the device ringing loudly at the very appropriate time of two in the morning. Picking it up, he looked at the screen, wanting to know who he was about to chew out before answering.

Jesse gave a puzzled look to the phone when he saw your name and picture - you never called him, well, not unless you were in trouble. Not that he would’ve minded if you did, but he wasn’t expecting the first casual call between you to be at 2 a.m. Usually the only contact he had with you this late was if he was thinking about how good your ass looked in those tight leggings you liked to wear, or how you’d winked at him when he joined you in ribbing Reyes over his botched haircut, or when you’d rest your head against his shoulder if the meeting you were in was horrifically boring. He was completely smitten with you, especially when he discovered your prowess with firearms rivaled his own, and he would’ve been lying if he said he didn’t think about you in less than appropriate ways sometimes.

A little pang of worry flitted across his chest, hoping that you were okay and thinking maybe you were just out drinking and accidentally butt dialed him.

“You okay, darlin’?” he asked after tapping to answer your call. He didn’t know what to expect - your voice either whispered and harried if you were in trouble, or cutely slurred just enough to make him smile if you weren’t. Jesse though, definitely didn’t expect what actually met his ear through the speaker of his phone.

“Oh, Jesse,” he heard you say, far-away sounding, like the phone was away from your face.

“Darlin’?” he repeated, but was answered only with a breathy moan that went straight to his cock, his length twitching in his pajama pants. Jesse’s eyes widened as he’s realized what was happening, mixed feelings of arousal and guilt as he realized you were pleasuring yourself... while thinking about him.

You said his name again, followed by a sharp intake of breath, and he bit his lip to keep from cursing. His cock jumped, blood rushing into his length with every little moan he heard you make.

He should hang up. Hang up the phone and put it back on his nightstand and try to get the desperate way you moaned his name out of his head. But he couldn’t, not when he heard you start moaning in rhythm, steadily panting as you fucked yourself with some unknown toy while pretending it was him.

“Fuck, Jesse, please,” you begged, and McCree’s hand slipped beneath the waistband of his pants, closing around his astoundingly hard cock. One hand worked to push his sweatpants down over his thighs as he kicked off the blankets, letting the cool air of his room swirl around his too hot member. He cradled the phone awkwardly between his shoulder and ear, your moans a little louder now as they came through the speaker. He imagined every move you were making against yourself, knowing you hit your sweet spot when your breath would hitch or your voice would fail you, and he couldn’t help but picture how your body might contort beneath his, his lips sealed over yours to swallow your climax. Jesse stroked himself the rest of the way hard, trying to catch up to you, wanting to come when you did.

“So... close.... Fuck! Fuck, Jesse, I’m so close,” you whimpered, and he could hear you, hear the delicious squelch of you fucking yourself through the phone. He wanted to taste you, drink up every drop of your slick, memorize your scent and how it feels when your thighs squeeze tight around his head before you’d come in his mouth.

Jesse’s grip around his cock was tight, stroking with each moan. You cried out, nearly a sob, devolving into a repeated whisper of his name, and Jesse tugged hard on his length just a few more times, his hips arching off the mattress as he came along with you. He had no idea how he managed to keep quiet, considering it’d been months since he came that hard, thick spurts of white pooling in the dips of his abs and dripping down his fingers.

Coming down, he tapped his phone to end the call, guilt immediately filling in the gaps in his brain where his arousal had fled. He had not only made no effort to get your attention or tell you that he could hear everything, but had gone so far as to orgasm to the sound of your voice.

“Fuck,” said Jesse flatly, staring at his ceiling. He got up after another long moment, hoping he’d be able to think of some way to explain or apologize while he cleaned himself up.

-:- -:- -:-

You jumped when you felt Jesse’s hand on your shoulder, not realizing he was walking towards you in the dining hall. You promptly choked on your food, taking a big swig of water to wash it down. You hoped it would wash down your shame too, but the heavy feeling in your gut was still there after you calmed down.

“Oh, uh, hey... McCree,” you greeted lamely, trying not to look at him.

“You got a minute, sweet pea?” he asked, and the rock in your stomach grew to the size of a boulder. You clung to the small probability that he was just asking you about an upcoming mission for Blackwatch, or if you wanted to train with him later, but in all likelihood, he was about to ask why exactly you had called him while you were fucking yourself on your vibrating dildo. Oh, and maybe also to ask why you cried out his name when you came.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Commander in a bit, but yeah... sure,” you replied, swallowing thickly before following McCree to an empty meeting room near the cafeteria. He gestured for you to go in first before closing the door behind him. You had to say something first, before you lost your nerve. But how did you apologize for accidentally calling him in the middle of an intense masturbation session? Or, even more pressing of a question; how did you apologize for moaning his name the whole time?

“Jesse-“

“[Y/N]-“

You laughed nervously, Jesse rubbing the back of his neck with a hand simultaneously.

“I’m sorry,” you blurted quickly, a little surprised at Jesse’s confused look. ”I, um... called you pretty late last night by accident... and I was doing something really inappropriate, so if there’s a voicemail from me on your phone, I’m... I’m just really sorry, Jesse.”

Jesse carefully considered what you had said; you had unwittingly just given him an out. He could say that he got the message but didn’t listen to it, or even say he didn’t even know you’d called, and that would be it.

But he couldn’t let you think that. It would gnaw at him if he didn’t come clean, constantly carrying around that shame that he knew what you sounded like when you climaxed. He’d been on a personal mission for quite some time now to always do the right thing, and he wasn’t about to break that promise to himself to lie to you.

“[Y/N], I... picked up when you called me last night,” Jesse began, making only minute eye contact before looking away. “And I heard you... uh, heard what you were doin’ but... I didn’t hang up.” Jesse looked incredibly guilty, but you didn’t interrupt him. “And hearin’ you... shit, say my name like that, all breathless and so goddamn sexy, I... I couldn’t help myself, darlin.’”

Was Jesse saying what you thought he was saying? “So... I’m sorry too, and I understand if ya hate me or... don’t trust me anymore,” he finished, running a hand through his hair, obviously nervous over what you were about to say.

“Jesse, no. I absolutely still trust you, I trust you with my life,” you replied, stepping towards him. “I just never thought you’d think about me like I do about you,” you admitted, imagination going crazy envisioning Jesse’s eyes squeezed shut as he jerked himself off, your face in his mind.

“So you really do think about me when ya-“ He wagged his eyebrows at you, smirk turning up one corner of his mouth, and you felt heat rush into your face.

“Jesse!” you said, falsely appalled, and you playfully punched him in the shoulder. “I’d think it’s pretty obvious that I do, considering you were listening....”

You laughed, and Jesse laughed along with you, the nervousness between you evaporating.

“Darlin’, would you mind terribly if I asked what... specifically... you were thinkin’ about...?”

You pursed your lips at his question, but were unable to stay annoyed at the cowboy when he had that playful look on his face. The heat blossoming between your legs was too strong to ignore, especially now that you knew Jesse was most likely more than willing to help you feed the fire. You walked slowly over to him, making a grand show of pressing your mouth next to his ear, letting your cheek brush against his beard on the way.

“I always think of how it would feel with you inside me, Jesse. Would you feel better than my toy? Would you fill me right up?” Jesse cleared his throat and swallowed hard, but you felt his hands grip onto your hips. “Would you be gentle or rough with me, cowboy? Would you go down on me, Jesse? I hope you would, so I can feel that sinful tongue of yours inside me too.” You were laying it on impossibly thick, just waiting for the sharpshooter to break.

And break he did, pulling your body flush to his by your ass, two healthy handfuls of it in his palms. You squealed a little in surprise, your hands hooking over Jesse’s shoulders. Now his mouth was by your ear, hot exhales of breath on your skin.

“I’ve been dreamin’ of what you’d taste like, sweet thing,” Jesse said, low and dangerous, “And I’d make you ride my face so I wouldn’t miss a drop.”

“Oh... fuck, Jesse,” you said, warmth growing stronger at your center at the thought of his head between your thighs.

“Say my name again, gorgeous,” he rasped out, grinding the bulge in his pants against you.

“Jesse, shit....” You were rapidly losing control, his name an aphrodisiac on your lips. “You wouldn’t wanna come back to my room, would you?”

The man was nuzzling at your neck, wet lips dragging sloppy kisses down your pulse point, rapid and hammering in your throat. “Don’t you have a meetin’ with Reyes?” he asked, trailing his hand up your side.

“Fuck Reyes,” you said, turning his head to capture his lips, but Jesse pulled back.

“I’d prefer if you fucked me, bein’ honest,” he replied with that gorgeous smile, and you tried and failed to stifle your laugh. But McCree wasn’t having any of that, placing a stiff hand on the back of your neck to direct your mouth to his.

You pulled yourself against him, letting Jesse keep you upright as you lost yourself in his kiss. His facial hair was surprisingly soft, nearly as much so as his lips, which gently worked against yours until you had to break apart to breathe, your arousal completely stifling you.

“Let’s go, Jesse,” you said, wishing him luck in hiding the promisingly huge bulge in his pants as you made your way back to your room.

-:- -:- -:-

Jesse barely even registered how much bigger your room was than his when you started tugging off your clothes.

“Hey now, let me do that,” he said, playfully slapping your hands away from the button of your jeans.

“Sorry,” you said quietly, and Jesse smiled, trying not to become too entranced with your chest, covered now by only a lacy little bra that didn’t leave too much left to the imagination.

“No need to apologize, I just wanna... enjoy all of this,” he said, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples on top of the lace. You whimpered at his touch, the soft noise making him nearly ravenous for you, but he held back, not wanting to go too fast. He dipped his head down, pressing soft kisses to your chest as he fiddled with the clasp of your bra. You let your head drop back, your arms linking around Jesse’s neck as he released the hooks.

Dropping the garment to the floor, the blood rushing to his cock at the sight of you bare for him made it necessary that he get you on your bed, and you took his direction willingly, laying so nicely on your back, feet planted on the floor. Jesse pulled his own shirt over his head before stepping between your thighs, and he felt your palms caress up his abs and chest, all the way to the sides of his neck where you pulled him down into another kiss. Your fingers scratched at his scalp when he pressed his tongue to the seam of your lips, gently entreating entrance. Yours met his at the gate, another tiny whimper from you as they touched enough to spur him on.

Jesse pulled away, smirking at the look of betrayal on your flushed face, deciding to rid you of the rest of your clothing. He delicately unbuttoned your pants, dragging his lips down your skin as he peeled off the fabric. When his fingers gripped at your underwear, he paused, looking up at you.

“You okay with this, sweet pea?” Jesse asked, and you nodded nearly before he finished his question, your hand closing over his to start pushing the last piece of clothing you wore off of your hips.

Jesse wolf whistled when he held your panties in his hand, knowing it would make you blush, and he quickly stowed the fabric in his back pocket while you were trying to squirm out of his gaze. Grabbing your hips to keep you still, he kissed below your navel, creeping down slowly until he kissed right above your slit, his beard tickling your skin.

He moved away with a wolfish grin, flopping on his back next to you on your bed. When you looked at him with a confused stare, he patted his chest. “Come on, darlin’. I did say I’d make you ride my face, didn’t I? Though from how you’re lookin’ at me, I’m thinkin’ I won’t have to make ya.”

You looked like you had a moment of disagreement with yourself, wanting to fight him, but your arousal won out, and you crawled over Jesse’s body, sitting gently on his chest, your slit just inches away from his mouth. Jesse moved you into position, his tongue immediately darting out to taste you, and he hummed low in his throat. He figured you could tell, but having your slick cunt hovered over his mouth and his head boxed in by your already quivering thighs was like heaven for him. His cock was rock hard and pushing against the unforgiving front of his pants, but he didn’t care. All that mattered was getting you to cry out his name while he wrecked you.

Any shyness you had was stripped away once Jesse’s tongue found your bud, and your hips started rocking against his face, stuttering when he’d wrap his lips around it, sucking hard before soothing over it with another flat lick. He lapped up your slick, your cunt pressing insistently now against his mouth. You reached forward to grab onto the headboard, giving Jesse access to tease a fingertip around your entrance before sliding it inside. You keened, arched your back and whispered his name, and Jesse slid his finger in all the way to the knuckle, his other hand still gripping to your hip to keep you steady.

“Oh, fuck, Jesse,” you moaned, inner walls clenching around his finger and he hummed again, lips clasped on your nub, letting you cry out and shiver as your climax neared. Jesse’s cock was now painfully hard, but he wasn’t gonna deny you, not now when he had you balanced so precariously on the edge. He quickly slipped another finger inside you, crooking it perfectly against that sweet spot, his tongue flicking over your clit.

He watched your mouth fall open, heard the creak of the wooden headboard as you gripped it for dear life, relished the cry of absolute pleasure that burst forth as you came. He withdrew his fingers, replacing them with his tongue to lick up your sweet nectar. He kept your hips rocking against him, relishing the fact that the real him, not your imagined version, just made you come in his mouth.

“Fuck! Ah, fuck... fuckfuckfuck....” you moaned out, cunt twitching with aftershocks of your climax, Jesse’s tongue still swirling over you. You heard a muffled chuckle from between your legs, and you hoisted yourself up with shaky thighs, swinging your leg over and practically collapsing onto your mattress.

“I hope ya don’t think we’re done, gorgeous,” Jesse drawled, voice thick as honey, as he stood from your bed. He locked eyes with you as you shook your head in reply, taking off his pants with a teasing slowness. He grunted in relief as his tight pants drug down over his length, now only held back by the soft cotton of his boxer-briefs. You bit your lip, desperately wishing he’d just take them off already, and Jesse laughed, like he read your mind.

“There somethin’ you want?” he asked, taking a step back over towards your bed. You scooted to the edge, sliding off the mattress and kneeling so that your lips were just inches away from his straining length. Pushing his boxers down over his hips, your eyes widened at the impressive organ in front of you. You couldn’t appreciate it too much, as your mouth had a mind of its own, lurching forward to capture his head between your lips.

“Fuck... holy hell, darlin,’” Jesse cursed, fingers weaving into your locks. You wrapped your hand around the base of his shaft, taking more of him into your mouth. You moaned at the tang of his precum on your tongue, Jesse’s grip in your hair getting a little tighter while you inches down his length. You reached up with your free hand to cup his balls, kneading the sac gently as you sucked hard. Jesse was mumbling, a mixture of curses and praises while you worked him over.

“Fuck, baby girl, mmh... feels so damn good,” he said and you hummed, pulling off of him with a pop to lick a long stripe up his length. He tugged on your hair, the tingle on your scalp just perfect, pulling you up to slam his mouth against yours.

You found yourself on your back a moment later, Jesse covering your body with his, ravenously kissing you again. You hooked your thighs over his hips, urging him to let his cock slide against your wet folds. Jesse stood tall, stroking himself to spread your slick over his length. He gripped your hips, pulling you down so your ass was perched precariously on the edge of the mattress before fisting himself once again, gaze focused on your entrance as he lined himself up.

He pushed in gently, watching your face for any discomfort, but you were more than ready to accommodate him, walls silky smooth as he slid home. Jesse was much, much better than your toy, you decided, when you felt him bottom out, a sinful groan sounding from his chest.

“You feel so good, so goddamn good, baby girl. You’re so good for me, aren’t ya, darlin’? So damn good,” Jesse said, every word a shock to your core.

“Please, Jesse,” you whined, lifting your hips so he would start to move. “Please... fuck me, Daddy.”

Jesse’s grip on your hips became monumentally stronger, and when you caught his eyes you swore they were glowing with arousal. You didn’t mean to call him that, to say that out loud, but you were glad you did when Jesse started to move, slight little thrusts that kept him mostly seated inside you, just enough to keep the embers lit in your belly.

“You want me to fuck you, baby girl?” he asked, voice raspy and dark.

“Yes, Daddy... please, I want you,” you replied, “I’ll be good for you.” Jesse stopped holding back, beginning to pound mercilessly into your pussy as you fisted your sheets, needing something to ground you from his magnificent cock.

It was a whirlwind, Jesse fucking you hard as your heels dug into his lower back, before he grabbed your thighs to lift your legs straight up, holding them against his chest as he thrusted. You were going to come again, Jesse’s relentless fucking bringing you right up to the edge again.

“Touch yourself, darlin’,” he said, and your hand slid down your sweaty abdomen, your slick guiding your fingers right between your lips. You took a selfish moment to touch where you were joined, Jesse’s cock hot and slippery as it disappeared inside you. Your clit was crying for attention, throbbing beneath your fingertips as you circled over it. “Good girl,” Jesse praised, and you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

You pushed harder against yourself, Jesse pushing your legs towards your chest as he continued to thrust. You gasped, the precipice of your climax right in front of you. “I’m s-so close, Daddy,” you near whispered, arching your back to get his cock to rub against your most sensitive spot.

“Come on, baby, come for me. Come for Daddy,” Jesse said, his voice helping you over.

“Jesse!” you cried, each breath a gasp as pleasure clouded your vision. Your hand went limp between your legs, tears sliding out of the corners of your eyes.

He came soon after you, lifting you up off the mattress just a little, as he clung to your legs like a lifeline. You felt every stutter of his hips as he emptied himself inside you, imagining his come painting your insides white.

Jesse lowered your legs down slowly, helping you to adjust your position so all your limbs were on your bed. You managed to flop onto your stomach, body feeling like jello as Jesse sat up next to you. His breathing was still coming in pants, and your gaze trailed down his chest as he stretched his arms up over his head. He leaned down to press a kiss to your temple, nice and gentle in comparison to your rough fucking.

His eyes trailed down your back, a very self-satisfied smirk forming on his lips.

“Looks like I made a mess of you, darlin,’” Jesse said with effort, taking in your sweaty skin and wet thighs as his release started to drip out of your pussy. He caressed a hand over your ass, dipping it between your legs to gather the thick fluids there. You turned onto your side, opening your mouth for him to deposit his wet fingers. The lewdness of it all was nearly overwhelming, Jesse watching his fingers disappear into your hot mouth as you sucked him clean.

He followed his fingers with his mouth, kissing you hotly and pulling you back on top of him, big hands gripping your ass to grind against him.

A loud, hurried knock on your door made you yelp, both of your heads turning to look where the noise originated.

“Hey, [L/N]!? You in there? Are you sick?” Reyes shouted from the hall.

“Oh shit, I forgot about Reyes,” you whispered to Jesse’s amused face. You cleared your throat to respond, but he clapped a hand over your mouth.

“She’s a bit busy right now!” Jesse hollered back, already bracing for the punch to his shoulder, along with a yell of his name muffled by his hand.

“McCree? Goddamn it,” Reyes replied, continuing to curse in Spanish.

“I’ll clean her up and have her presentable for ya in just a minute, Boss-man,” Jesse added, and you truly wanted to kill him now.

You managed to pry his hand off of your mouth with a curse. “Jesse! You’re a dead man,” you said, exasperated and he had the audacity to laugh.

“Sorry... uh, Commander,” you managed to get out, “Can you give me a couple minutes? I’ll be right there for our meet-“

“We can reschedule, [L/N]. Find me when you’ve got... McCree washed off you,” Reyes interrupted with a resigned tone.

“I’m sorry, sir!” you called out before burying your face in your hands. “I can’t believe you did that....”

You felt Jesse grab your wrists, moving your hands down to look at him. “Got ya out of a meeting, didn’t I?” he replied and you rolled your eyes.

“Just got my meeting rescheduled, you big jerk.”

“Oh, come on sweetheart, don’t be mad. Daddy’ll make it up to you,” Jesse teased, tilting your head to press heated kisses to your neck.

“Jesse,” you replied with clear annoyance, but he wasn’t deterred, gently shifting you onto your back to continue lavishing your skin with kisses.

“Say, baby girl, why don’t ya show Daddy what ya were doing when ya called last night?” Jesse asked and you scoffed at his audacity. He looked up at you, eyes on fire, a similar heat starting to pool in your center.

“Do you enjoy torturing me?” you asked with a grin, letting your eyes flutter shut as he kissed the dip between your collarbones.

“Is it torture if ya enjoy it?” he asked back, shooting you a look. You reached over to your nightstand drawer, pulling it open by the handle.

“Shit, darlin’, how many of these d’ya have?” Jesse asked, eyes wide at your toy collection. You pulled out the toy you’d used last night, pressing the button to turn it onto the lowest vibration setting.

“You gonna be good and watch?” you asked as Jesse shifted off of you, his eyes flicking between the toy and where you were about to put it.

“‘Course. I got me a front row seat.”

-:-

Thank you for reading!!

Find me on:

AO3: copper_wasp

Twitter: copper_wasp_

Discord: copper_wasp#1545

#overwatch #jesse mccree #mccree x reader #one shot #smut #copper-wasp writes

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megan0013 · 4 years

Note

Hey, are you still doing unwritten scenes? I would kill for the scene of Walter and Barbara in that bar, you know, *all the way back then* if you catch my drift =)))

TACO TUESDAY, or: a fallout prologue

(mature, but not explicit)

“We could… get out of here? If you want.”

Walter nods, emerald gaze drawn to the redhead’s mouth as she nervously sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. It’s a clear invitation. One that – oh, yes – he’d very much like to accept.

Even if he knows he shouldn’t.

But that’s the thing about tequila – it has an innate ability to suppress all rational thought when presented with temptation such as this. Or any temptation, really.

Not that it would be easy to turn her down sober, either. Because, goddamn, this woman – this, Barbara – is amazing. Clever and gorgeous, she’s managed to keep him utterly enchanted for hours now with seemingly no effort at all. He wonders if she’s a witch. Or, maybe some other type of fae? How else could her touch make him feel so… astoundingly alive?

“I’ve got roommates,” she continues softly. “But you said your apartment is just a few blocks away, right?”

Her hand slips from the edge of the bar to his knee, and it takes every ounce of inebriated self-control he can muster not to kiss her right there in front of everyone. Shameless flirting is one thing, but snogging a student with his cantankerous old department chair’s granddaughter slamming margaritas three seats away is certainly a no-no.

“Yes, that’s right,” he says instead, unable to stop the grin that tugs at the corners of his mouth as his hand covers hers. She feels like fireworks under his palm – which makes it all the more difficult for him to relinquish his hold on her to dig through his trouser pocket for his wallet. “Let me just…”

He stuffs a handful of cash into the glass containing their tab – not even a little concerned with leaving a 53% tip – and tosses back the last of his Dos Equis, then eagerly leads her through the bar.

“So.” Barbara’s grin is wide and infectious as they step into the cool winter air. “What do I owe you?”

Walter smirks. “Not a damn thing, love.”

“Uh-uh,” she tuts with a playful waggle of an index finger. “I am a big girl and I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much.”

“I don’t doubt that.” He winds an arm around her shoulder and leans down to whisper suggestively into her ear, “However, I think you deserve to be absolutely spoiled tonight.”

And, ooh, he could get used to that delightful little gasp. The blush, too.

“Fine,” she says after a beat, brow arching. “But drinks are on me next time.”

Next time, huh?

His eyes sparkle as he guides her forward, away from the raucous bar and this week’s live cover of Mambo Number 5. He supposes he’s not overly opposed to the idea of a ‘next time’. He could use a distraction from Bular’s incessant bullshit – though, pursuing her after tonight would be a definite departure from the way he lets these things usually play out.

Relationships are… messy.

Not that he’s envisioning a relationship with her. A good time or two, sure. But certainly not a relationship. Those are reserved for humans and trolls – whole creatures – or, for lowly changelings with a much shorter fall from the Pale Lady’s grace than himself. And, anyway, there aren’t enough hours in the day as it is without adding something as frivolous as a…

Fuck. No. Stop thinking about that goddamn word already.

One night, that’s it: get in, get off, get out.

Her head tilts to rest on his shoulder for the remainder of their walk, and – okay, fine – maybe two nights. Three, tops.

“I, uh…” Walter clears his throat when they come to a stop outside the old brick building he calls home a few minutes later. “I understand if you’ve changed your mind. We can always just… have some tea? Or I could call a cab. I don’t want you to feel obligated – “

“Walt?”

He swallows, suddenly nervous. “Yes, Barbara?”

“Shut up.”

And then she’s kissing him – fingers twisting in his lapels, body pliant against him and mouth impatient – with such fervor, such intensity, that any doubts of her desire are instantly quelled.

He snakes an arm around her waist and easily avoids stumbling as he treks backward, pulling her with him all the way to the doorstep. It takes three tries to yank the house-key out of his pocket and another four more to fit it in the lock, but he somehow manages to get them inside without breaking the kiss for a single second.

“Nice place,” Barbara breathes, pushing the changeling’s jacket over his shoulders as he kicks the door closed. “How ‘bout a tour?”

“Of course.” He nips her bottom lip and tugs her sweater over her head. “We’ll begin with the bedroom, if that’s alright with you?”

She grins against his ear, nimble fingers working his belt as he kicks off a shoe. “Funny you should mention it. That’s the room I’m most interested in seeing.”

“Great minds…” He groans when she pops open the button on his trousers, “think alike.”

His other shoe is sent sailing right before Barbara pulls him into another insistent, sanity-stealing kiss. Fine, fine! Four nights. He can spare four nights just like this – with a very slim chance of more.

“Wait.” Her hands suddenly still on his waist. “I don’t have any, uh…”

He squints at her, confused.

“I mean, I wasn’t really planning on something like this happening, so I didn’t bring any…” The blush is back, and Walter has to force himself to focus on her words instead of the shape of her lips. “Do you… have… any?”

“What?”

She gives him a pointed, yet shy look. “Protection?”

From what? Is his first thought, which is quickly followed by, Oh, right – condoms.

Shit. When was the last time he’d needed one of those? There’d been an assigned fling with that governor a few years back, but it’s not like they needed to worry about contraceptives and changelings are immune to most human diseases.

“I… don’t. No.” His shoulders slump. “It’s, uh, been a while and I didn’t think – “

Barbara’s fingers twitch, determinedly. “Are you clean?”

That perks him up. “Yes.”

“Okay, well…” She bites her lip and waggles her eyebrows, and shoves his pants over his hips. “I’m on the pill, so we’re all good.”

(they are not all good)

#trollhunters #stricklake #fallout fic prompts #meg answers

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aziraphales-library · 4 years

Note

I'd love to recommend "Of Hummingbirds and Albatross" by BabyHoldMyFlower! It's their first fanfic ever posted and it's astoundingly good! The terrifying vulnerability of accidental confession! The shocking revelation of reciprocated love! An incredibly good NSFW ending! It's got it all!

Of course love!

Of Hummingbirds and Albatross by BabyHoldMyFlower

How do you tell a person you want to press your foreheads together and feather kisses along their hairline? How do you tell a person you want to watch them arch their neck as you take them into your mouth, or feel their fingers in your hair as you suck kisses into their soft belly? He doesn’t feel like that’s a thing you tell your best friend after 6,000 years. He’d like to shrug it off. Can’t. He’s trying too hard to keep from snapping his fingers and miracling away all of Aziraphale’s clothes in one fell swoop so that he’s naked and glowing in the soft light.

Crowley is starting to fall apart after Armageddon and needs someone to hold him together.

~Mod M

#adult omens #good omens #fic rec #good omens fic #babyholdmyflower #anon #mod m #emotional hurt/comfort #ineffable husbands #under 10k

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patricianandclerk · 5 years

Text

Replete and Ponderous

Aziraphale has a kink.

Crowley thinks it's funny, but that doesn't mean he's not going to indulge it to the nines. For @azfellandco.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale sighed against Crowley’s mouth, and Crowley smiled, pushing the angel’s hair out of his eyes, where a few strands had come away from his bun. It had started out loose, but rhythmic activity had rendered it a mess, and Crowley wondered what it would be like to have the angel’s hair untied entirely, to grab him with a fistful of it and see him writhe.

“What, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, shifting the angle of his thrusts just slightly and thrilling at the way Aziraphale moaned, his lip quivering. “Not enough for you?”

“You really do— Oh, you really do blow my insatiability out of proportion, you know.”

“Do I? Did you or did you not, angel, beg me to have you until you were ripe as a new peach?”

“Yes, but—”

“To ride you ‘til your belly was, what was it, replete and ponderous?”

“Yes, but—”

“In short,” Crowley said, dragging his spit-slick thumb over Aziraphale’s clit and watching his stomach jump, feeling his cunt clench, “to fuck you until I couldn’t anymore?”

“I don’t know why I bother with poetry,” Aziraphale mumbled, his cheeks flushed an astoundingly rosy red, “you always render it rather moot when you cut through it with such direct language.”

“You don’t want me to be direct?” Crowley asked, with a little mock pout, and he rolled them over, tugging Aziraphale on top of him. Aziraphale cried out at the sudden shift of positions, and Crowley listened eagerly to the slight slosh inside him, where Crowley had filled him right up… He pressed his hand to the swell of Aziraphale’s belly, markedly rounder than usual, and he pressed down, feeling where the angel was taut and full. “How’s that, darling?”

“Oh, Crowley, you beast,” Aziraphale gasped out, shifting slightly on Crowley’s cock, his thighs a beautiful weight on Crowley’s own, and Crowley watched his face, watched his red cheeks, his heavy breathing, and he thrust up, delighting in the movement of Aziraphale’s belly, stuffed so full as it was. “Aah—”

“You see, angel, I think you lied,” Crowley purred, dragging his palms over Aziraphale’s stomach and making him whimper, but he was rolling his hips down against Crowley’s cock, taking what he wanted, what he needed, and Crowley let his cock grow just a little bit thicker, just enough to stretch—

Aziraphale heaved in a gasp, his pretty eyes going wide, and his fingers pressed tight against Crowley’s hairless chest, trying to grab for purchase there, as if that would steady him.

“Lied, dear boy?” Aziraphale asked, leaning forward, and he moaned at the way it pressed his belly between the two of them, putting pressure on the swell, but Crowley noted he didn’t pull back. So much pressure… “What about?”

“I don’t think it’s about my come, that’s all.”

“Oh, well, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, breathing laboured, eyes closed, “I’m sad to tell you, dear boy, the world, in fact, does not revolve around your ejaculate. Not even my world.”

“I think,” Crowley continued, ignoring the slight burn in his own cheeks, “that it’s about what my come can do.”

“And what’s that? Make flowers bloom? Mend furniture? Run for M.P. in Hackney North and Stoke Newington?”

“No,” Crowley said, trying not to laugh, “I think it’s because it could get you pregnant.”

Aziraphale froze, staring down at him, and then his face twisted, his lips parted, his eyes widening, his brows— Oh, yes. Yes, Crowley was familiar with that expression, and he moaned as he felt Aziraphale’s cunt clench around him, twitching as he came: he thrust up into Aziraphale as he did, squeezing the angel’s hips, his thighs, and he committed very little hitched, keening moan that the angel let out to memory, burying them deep where he’d be able to come back to them later (and come back to them he would, with frequency).

“That’s it, huh, angel?” Crowley asked, grabbing at Aziraphale’s arse, laughing when the angel jumped and gasped. “You want me to fill you up with my come until it takes.”

“No, Crowley, dear boy, you’re being patently – aah, Crowley! – patently ridiculous, I don’t know what you—”

“You do! You want me to breed you! You want me to get you pregnant!” Crowley crowed, pressing their bellies together and grinning savagely when Aziraphale choked. “Huh? Yeah? That it, angel? You want me to come deep inside you, keep it stuffed up in you, make you fat and heavy and pregnant with it? They’d really know there was a demon on top of you then, wouldn’t they, carrying my infernal—”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale wailed, and Crowley held his tongue, watching him, but Aziraphale only whined and smacked his chest. “No, don’t stop talking, I just can’t get enough of you into me like this, I want to go back—”

“You want me to take you on your hands and knees?”

“Please,” Aziraphale said plaintively, and Crowley let him get up, falling forward on his forearms, although the little whimper he let out when Crowley’s cock slid out of him was more than gratifying. Crowley was up and behind him within a few moments, fucking into Aziraphale again in one smooth shift, and Aziraphale moaned, his back arching, and like this, his belly hanging down, Crowley could hear it, could hear the wet shift of his come inside the angel, could see the way it swung, just a little, and he couldn’t help but feel a little hot under the collar himself, imagining Aziraphale with a belly just like this, all the time, all the time—

He lay kisses all over the angel’s back, between his shoulders, against the blades, against the back of his neck as he pistoned his hips, and was all but babbling as he went on, “Sss’that what you want, angel? Be nice and fertile for me? Let me get you pregnant, look after you like I look after my plants?”

“My dear, I should hope you’d treat me a lot better than you treat your plants,” Aziraphale moaned.

“What, you don’t want me to take the spray bottle and get you right here?” He gave a particularly vicious thrust, and Aziraphale’s laughter was muffled into the mattress before it trailed off into another moan. “No, no, I know, sweetheart, you don’t need watering, you just need filling up.”

“My dear—”

“Breed you, angel,” Crowley said, biting the back of Aziraphale’s neck and feeling his whole body shudder. “Fill you up with me, fuck you ‘til you can’t walk straight and then watch you waddle when this belly blows right up again—”

He was grabbing at it, not too roughly, but just grabbing, squeezing a little, and Aziraphale put more of his weight on one of his arms, the other coming up to land on top of Crowley’s hand, both their palms against the side of his stomach, and he could hear Aziraphale gasping, hear his tight little noises, feel him jump, twitch, hear every single noise…

“I’m going to,” Aziraphale gasped out, “I’m going to again, Crowley, I need, I want—”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” Crowley asked, nipping at his ear, the hand that wasn’t tangled with Aziraphale’s stroking up his back. “What can I give you, make you happy?”

“Oh, please keep talking,” Aziraphale said breathlessly, “and my— I can’t reach my cl— Can you…?”

“Sure I can, sure I can,” Crowley promised, and he shifted his angle again, laying kisses over Aziraphale’s back as he reached his spare hand underneath, pushing underneath Aziraphale’s belly, and that made it move, made the flesh give just a little bit less than it usually would, so full as he was, and Aziraphale whimpered. “That’s what I’m gonna do, angel, my beautiful angel, gonna make you as replete and ponderous as you want, gonna stick a plug in you, keep my come in you ‘til you can’t stand it anymore, let everyone think I’ve already got you pregnant, with everything I have stuffed in you, the way you’re toddling around—”

It wasn’t so spectacular as the last one: Aziraphale sighed, this time, and he didn’t feel so urgent as he rode through it, but Crowley couldn’t help but grin, nipping his satisfaction up the length of Aziraphale’s back, gently playing over Aziraphale’s clit as he rode it through, making sure it wasn’t too oversensitive.

“You ready, angel?” Crowley asked, and Aziraphale nodded, then sighed again as Crowley came, grunting and closing his eyes tight shut as his grip tightened, feeling the pressure dissipate as his cock pulsed, felt Aziraphale take him in.

They fell to the side, after, and when Crowley moved to pull away, to go get Aziraphale something to drink, maybe a little something to eat, and a wash cloth, he caught hold of Crowley’s wrist.

“You said,” he said, his cheeks pink, “you said, erm—” He trailed off, and Crowley watched him, pressing his nose into Aziraphale’s hair, and nuzzling it.

“Yeah, angel, I know. You don’t really want to get pregnant, it’s just a game, just talk. You haven’t even got a uterus, right? Or Fallopian pipes, or any of the rest?”

“Fallopian tubes,” Aziraphale corrected him. “Fallopian pipes, indeed, it’s not plumbing, Crowley. And— No, no, that’s not what I was going to say, although, er, you’re quite right. Very much just a game. No, just… Er, well, that is to say—”

“Ssspit it out, angel.”

“You said you’d put a plug in me,” Aziraphale said. Spoilt brat, Crowley's angel was.

“You know what you are, angel?” Crowley asked, in his most long-suffering tone.

“The love of your life, your husband, your most beloved one?”

“A pest. You’re a pest.” He finished this sentence by blowing a raspberry against Aziraphale’s neck, and the angel laughed and struggled, squirming, but Crowley conjured a plug into his palm all the same, and held it up for Aziraphale’s perusal. There was a moment’s pause, and then, in a very good – if he said so himself – impression of Aziraphale’s own voice, Crowley said, “My dear, could you make it just a smidge bigge—”

“You’re so cruel to me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said, pouting just slightly, and Crowley laughed, widening it a little before he pulled out, gently sliding it into place, so that the flared base was flush against the angel, stretching him nice and wide, keeping everything in.

“Am I, angel?” Crowley asked. “Am I cruel?”

“Dastardly, my dear.”

“Good,” Crowley said, and kissed his cheek. “You want some of those truffles in the fridge?”

“Oh, yes, I would love some, and— some cocoa?”

“Your wish is my command.”

My Ask | My Ko-Fi | My Ao3 | Requests always welcome!

#as defined by dictionary #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #fanfic

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eliannaa · 4 years

Text

Caffeine

A RTG fanfic

Summary: Isobel Laurel kept on convincing herself that those were just simple coffee dates with his ex-husband, but she can't fool herself forever.

Author's notes: I do not own RTG, it is writtern by beeyotch on wattpad

Rated M for mature content.

Those were just small talks over coffee, she tried to convince herself. Just innocent escapades while reminiscing things that happened in the past. Sure, they were had their history but it’s all in the past. Sure, she had already remembered him, how they were, but she cannot undo things. She wouldn’t want to. She has her Sandro. And that is enough… or is it?

Perhaps it is not, she admitted, shivering, outside a bachelor pad. Praying to heavens that he is home unlike those days when she had to stand for hours and go home dismayed.

He married his work after all, she giggled, feeling light. She closed her eyes and heaved a sigh before pressing a finger to his doorbell.

“Please be home. Please be ho—“ the door swung open revealing a dishevelled man in his naked glory. He had his white pants on, but that’s not the point.

“Isobel?!” he exclaimed as if seeing an apparition—a soaked and tipsy apparition.

She gave him a small smile. “Hi.”

“Jesus, why are you wet?”

“Because you’re dry?” she answered dumbly and giggled again. “There was an outpour. I did not watch the news.”

“And why are you drunk?” he added and pulled her by her arms inside.

“Why aren’t you?” she asked back and laughed. “I’m not, though. Just a glass of beer. Relax, Doctor, I drove here.”

“Fuck.” He whispered while trying to sit her still on his couch but she kept on melting down like a Jell-O, clinging to his broad shoulders as if her life depends on it.

“Yes, let’s.” she replied on her sultriest voice. He stiffened and looked at her droopy eyes. It’s probably the alcohol, he chastised himself, get a grip, Sean Denver!

“Let’s do that, fuck”, the vixen added

Before he lost his cool and jump unto her like a wild animal, he stood up and went inside his room to rummage for some dry clothes and a towel to dry her up.

“Damn, why does she have to show up in her most vulnerable and alluring state?” he exclaimed to no one and pulled his hair in frustration.

How long has it been? 20 years? Right. 20 antagonizing years of thirsting over her… of longing to feel her silky skin and have a taste of her sweetness.

Then, a wave of guilt came rolling unto him. He should’ve been more patient. He shouldn’t have been too greedy to ask for more than she could give. Things would’ve been different now. There were plenty of times when he would blame everything to himself. It was his entire fault.

Things happened, things that couldn’t be undone. He had Sammie, his sweet princess and she had Sandro, her treasured son.

Considering all things said and done, Isobel Lyana Laurel is still the girl he loved and will continue to love with all of him. Yes, he’s not a Saint. There will always be the constant longing but he chose to content himself with just a glimpse of her and her life.

Just hearing her sweet laughs is enough to keep him going. He would be very careful with her.

He would wait for her even if it takes a lifetime.

Sean’s train of thought was interrupted when his door opened, revealing an almost naked, smiling Isobel.

Before he could formulate any logica

Before he could formulate any logical thought, she kissed him good and hard just like the way she always do.

Her warm little hands were in his hair, grabbing and tugging in sync with her rosebud of a mouth. He could smell her sweat of frustrations and a hint of alcohol, thighs wrapped around his waist as her moans echoed down his throat.

“Isobel, Isobel… baby, wait.” He protested and stumbled upon the edge of his bed and fell on it, bring his frustrated vixen on top of him. He could feel her tremble, or was it him?

He tried to align his messy thoughts but all he could feel was her, her warm hands, her sweet demanding lips, her wonderful cries…

“Baby, please, let’s not do something you’ll regret when you’re sober”, he whispered looking into her orbs and found himself drowning unto them.

He shook his head when her face turned sour, obviously thinking unnecessary thoughts.

“And yes, I want you. For the longest time, I do. But I wouldn’t take advantage of your drunken stupor, baby, if we do something like this, we’ll do it when we’re both thinking straight.”

The corner of her lips began to tug upwards, eyelids dropping down showing a lopsided grin. Her hair was wet, her eyes bloodshot, her nose swollen red and she is still the most beautiful thing her eyes ever laid upon.

But of course, that is a well-known fact, ever since he saw her under that lamppost. She smiled some more and touched his temple, then traced the line of his brow.

“Silly. Doctor. Sean”, she uttered, planting a rainbow of kisses on his face. She kissed him fully on the lips. Once. Twice. Thrice… and latched on his lower lip like it’s her favourite candy.

“One, I just had beer at Kitty’s but I’m not wasted. I even managed to drive here. Two, I want more than these silly coffee dates but I’m scared because after all the things that happened, I don’t deserve you anymore—“

“Hush.” He placed a finger on his lips.

“I love you. No buts, I just do. And don’t talk like you’re the only one wronged, we both are. But it’s all in the past. And to me, you are more than enough. So much more than enough, Isobel. God. You have no idea. I just thought that we may be rushing things.”

Isobel snorted at his last statement. “Silly.” said she. “I love you, too. And we’re both almost fucking Fifty, how is that rushed?”

Her declaration left her dumbfounded. Damn, she’s just astoundingly gorgeous.

“Now, kiss me.” Sean obeyed her command, helpless against her eager face.

And he knew this was the beginning of something new, something amazing. “Isobel, fuck. My sweet Isobel. You’re home. Damn.”

She went there with his fingers first. Limbs splayed on his duvet, her skin shining with sweat from the glorious climax. Second with his teeth and tongue, devouring her swollen clit and shy dripping hole.

He had her crying his name, delirious from her high. Then he found himself underneath her, impatience written on her face, she straddled her hips.

“We can stop—“ “For the love of god, shush. I want this, I want you. Now.” His length was pressed against her belly, hard and ready. She held it and slid unto her, lips parted, revealing her swollen clit. He tried to hold her waist in attempt to stop her.

“There’s a condom in my drawe—oh!” “Too late.” She giggled and bit her lip feeling full and complete. He was inside her, balls deep and raw. She leaned in and kissed his neck. “At my age, I don’t think there is a need for that, anyway.” She whispered and his face flushed red in embarrassment. What a big baby! She thought.

She moaned, gripping him. Trying to get used to his size. It’s been ages. Damn. Then she moved up again, slowly letting him go, feeling herself hollowed missing him, then welcome him again inside as she moved down.

It stung a little but it didn’t hurt. It was a good hurt. She found a rhythm and arching her back, she found out she could press her clit against her pelvis on each down stroke.

“Oh, Sean, this is so good.” He was doing well, hanging in there until she rotated her hips, that’s when he knew, he’s doomed. He wouldn’t last long, no matter how he try but he will even though it killed him. He sat up straight and held her waist still.

“Baby, hold on. Sshh. I got you. That’s my girl.” He held her hands, stroking her hair, dropping hot kisses on her neck and collarbones. She sighed when he moved her slowly upwards and downwards, so slowly, it almost hurt. So slowly, she had her toes curl in pleasure.

“My gorgeous Isobel, your cunt is amazing. You are amazing.” His voice was low and soothing.

“Oh, god!” she cried out. He bent her back until she was laying on his bed, her eyes lost in passion and muscles tremble in excitement.

Now on top, he held her knees and pressed them on the mattress. He pulled his shaft and thrust with all his might. He couldn’t help but groan. She’s so tight. So warm. So soft. Unbelievably so.

He began his controlled pace, leaving her whimpering and clawing on his back.

“Sean, oh I think I’m—“ He kissed her full on the lips and quickened his pace. “I know baby, shh… I got you”

Minutes after, perhaps hours, she came, her insides gripping on him like vice, mouth hung open for a silent cry of pleasure, until then, Sean decided to let himself go, feeling his seed explode on her insides and flowing outside of her swollen hole.

“I love you, Isobel. Welcome home.” “I love you, Sean. I’m home.”

#Sean #Isobel #Reclaim the game #May asim pa si tita isobel #Dilf si doc sean #Menopausal baby soon #Reclaim the sanity

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eggman-empire · 5 years

Text

Dr. Eggman’s Good Deeds

by Dr. Mechano

Dr. Ivo "Eggman" Robotnik: Nemesis of Sonic the Hedgehog and would-be conqueror of the world. For almost thirty years, this man's turned animals into robots, unearthed ancient monsters, and threatened the planet with doomsday weapon after doomsday weapon. In short, he's a villain's villain. A true bad egg.

But rather than celebrate his feats of villainy, I wanted to talk about the rare times across the franchise that Eggman has performed truly good acts. Eggman's capacity to care, to show kindness, to help others.

Now, I want to clarify what I mean here. For the sake of this list:

I will not be including Eggman teaming up with the heroes to save the world. These acts of "goodness" inherently carry an ulterior motive; That being to save himself and make sure there's still a world for him to conquer. Plus, half the time it's one of his own schemes going out of control anyway. So just saving the world in and of itself won't make the cut for the purpose of my post.

I will also not be including a mere lack of cruelty as "goodness." You don't get a cookie for feeding your prisoners or not torturing people. So while I do think the times where Eggman's lack of cruelty has been pointed out (such as in Unleashed) are important, they're not what I'm talking about either.

I'm specifically talking about times when Eggman does something kind, or helpful, or selfless toward others without some villainous ulterior motive. I will also be including spinoff material, since the majority of these examples come from those rather than the games. So! With that out of the way, let's begin!

Sonic Lost World - Eggman saves Tails

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Now, I mentioned that merely teaming up with the heroes doesn't warrant a mention. But I think this goes beyond that.

Tails attaches Cubot's head to a Crabmeat, which causes Cubot to become very aggressive, attacking Tails. Eggman - without a moment to think or evaluate the situation - immediately leaps into harm's way and shoves Tails to safety, honoring his truce with his enemies by putting his own safety on the line to protect them.

Now, you could make the argument that Eggman is only keeping Tails around because he needs him for Sonic to take care of the Zeti (which could also be an argument for Eggman saving Sonic himself later in the same game), but consider: A.) How spur-of-the-moment this was; Eggman didn't have time to calculate how he could use this situation to his advantage, and just leaped as soon as Tails was in danger, and B.) He put himself at risk to save someone else.

Yes, by the end of the game - after the terms of their truce were met, with the Zeti defeated and the machine disabled - Eggman goes right back to fighting them. But during their time working together, Eggman is an honorable ally who ultimately saves Tails's and Sonic's lives. I feel like this goes beyond simply helping them out of necessity and warrants mentioning here.

As Eggman himself put it, he's "a complicated guy."

Sonic X - Eggman talks an enraged Sonic down, and has his crew save Chris and Cosmo from the Metarex

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In Sonic X, the Metarex commander Black Narcissus attacked Chris and Cosmo, which nearly drove Sonic into an unstoppable rage.

Cue Eggman stepping in to provide Sonic with some perspective and remind him not to lose his cool. He manages to calm Sonic down, informing him that he sent Shadow to rescue Chris and Cosmo, and that they're fine. Eggman then proceeds to berate Black Narcissus for his cruelty, saying in no uncertain terms that hurting innocent people is wrong, and humiliates the commander by having Decoe, Bocoe, and Bokkun beat him to the curb.

Eggman didn't have to do any of this. Saving Sonic's friends or even calming Sonic down didn't really provide him any strategic advantage. But he did, and then explained why: Because Black Narcissus crossed Eggman's own personal moral code, and the Doc wasn't having it.

Sonic X Comics - El Gran Gordo

After initially becoming a luchador as part of a get-rich-quick scheme, where the Doctor won matches by cheating, Eggman eventually grew to love the spectacle and public adoration of being a hero. So for a time, he stuck with the wrestling gig, without any villainous intent this time.

This lands him in trouble when the hulking Andes the Ginormous challenges Gordo to a fight and completely mops the floor with him. Without his robots and gadgets to help him cheat, Eggman is no match for the might of Andes, and is just about to tap out to save himself any more pain or humiliation... when suddenly, from the stands he sees the tears of his number-one fan, Chris, and hears him say exactly what Eggman has perhaps always needed to hear: "I believe in you."

Despite the pain, despite his exhaustion, and despite being ridiculously out-matched, Gordo gets his second wind, and through pure raw determination, defeats Andes the Ginormous, claims the championship belt, and lives up to Chris's idealistic expectations. Chris's hero refused to let him down, and even in a moment of weakness, found the strength to win.

The El Gran Gordo arc is also my favorite story in the entire Sonic franchise, and I know that over the past decade I've gushed about it enough times already. It's just so good.

Sonic X Comics - Eggman the Hedgehog

In Sonic X issue 37, Sonic and Eggman swap bodies.

Blessed with Sonic's newfound speed and power, does Eggman attempt to use the hedgehog's body to take over the world? Nope. Just the opposite: Eggman loves being Sonic, and being seen as a hero to the world (which echoes his temporary stint as El Gran Gordo), and - upon hearing the president was kidnapped - attempts to rescue him. He actually seems content being the hero, and wants to use the fame and glory Sonic already has as a jump-start to his brand new heroic career.

Now, this begs the question: If X comic Eggman wants to be a beloved hero to the masses so badly, why doesn't he just reform? Why go through the middleman of luchador disguises or hijacking your arch-enemy's body to live out a life of heroism? He could just be Eggman and be a good guy, especially since this particular version of Eggman is so driven by wanting love and adoration, which heroism gives him in droves.

Ah well, he's a complicated guy.

Sonic Boom - Eggman chooses Amy's friendship over personal gain

In "Fuzzy Puppy Buddies," Eggman and Amy discover that they share a mutual interest in a collectible tabletop game about adorable dogs. They spend the episode bonding and actually striking up a genuine friendship over their newfound hobby, working out an arrangement to still be enemies on the battlefield, but friends in their off time.

At PuppyCon, Eggman steals a puppy figurine, and Amy demands he do the right thing and give it back. So she challenges him to a game, wins, and gives Eggman an ultimatum: He can either return the figurine, or their friendship is over. Eggman hesitates at first, but relents, ultimately choosing Amy's friendship over the rare figurine he wanted. The episode ends with the two of them happily playing another game of Fuzzy Puppies in Eggman's base.

I like this episode, because it really gets at who Boom Eggman is. He's a lonely guy who wants friends more than a serious conqueror or evildoer. And when actually given friendship and positive reinforcement, he become a slightly better person.

Sonic Boom - Eggman the Wingman

In "Tails' Crush," Tails has a crush on Zooey the fox, and keeps getting astoundingly bad romantic advice from his friends about how to ask her out. Tails ultimately makes a fool of himself and gets no closer to truly expressing his feelings.

Eggman witnesses this shameful display and, declaring that "the bro code trumps the enemy thing," gives Tails some solid romantic advice: Be confident in yourself and quit trying to copy others. He then immediately launches into an attack on the village - he is a villain, after all - and Tails, taking Eggman's advice, regains his confidence and saves the day. He gets a kiss from Zooey and ultimately ends up in a long-term relationship with her for the rest of the show; and we can thank Eggman for giving Tails the push he needed.

Sonic Boom - Eggman saves Beth the Shrew

In "Don't Make Me Angry," Eggman's experiments go awry and lead to him temporarily transforming into an adorable little creature every time he gets mad. In order for the effects to wear off, Eggman must avoid getting angry for an entire 48 hours.

When Sonic realizes Eggman's condition, he takes pleasure in mocking Eggman for it - hoping to goad him into getting angry. Eventually he succeeds, causing Eggman to become the purple creature as the village laughs at his transformed state. But the young scientist-in-training, Beth the Shrew, takes pity on Eggman and doesn't mock him along with the other villagers. She shows up at his base with cookies a couple of days later to try to make him feel better; a gesture Eggman is touched by, despite the cookies themselves being rather unappetizing (they were made with toothpaste).

While exploring Eggman's lab, Beth accidentally falls into the trash compactor, which is automated and set to go off soon. Eggman frantically tries to save Beth from being crushed, but is too large to fit into the compactor himself. So he does the only thing he can: He goes out of his way to become angry so that he can morph into the purple creature, fit into the trash compactor, and pull Beth to safety. Initially, he has trouble doing this, and can't find any way to get angry in time - the futility of which itself ends up making him angry, allowing him to transform and save Beth from being crushed just in the nick of time.

This entire episode revolves around Eggman going out of his way - seriously doing everything he could, including morphing into a form he hates - to save a child's life. I think that's great.

__________

So, these are some of the immediate off-hand examples I had of Eggman doing outright good things without any villainous undertones.

Share your opinions! Do you like stories that show some of Eggman's nicer side? Do you prefer takes on him that are just evil without any redeeming qualities? Maybe somewhere in the middle?

Or maybe you just feel like talking in-depth about any of these specific examples? Or you'd like to add some of your own that I didn't cover? There's a lot to talk about here, so feel free to chime in from whatever angle you want! Reblog and add your own thoughts, or just leave a comment!

As for me, I love this stuff. Eggman showing a nicer, more humane side to himself is something I pretty much always enjoy seeing. So it's no surprise that X and Boom are my favorite takes on the character overall; even if I do also enjoy his more sinister incarnations in their own way. In the end, I love that Eggman's a character with as much range as he has. Some stories can make him borderline-monstrous, while others give the impression that he could make a great hero if he'd just give up on world domination. And those latter stories are among my favorites in the Sonic franchise.

This is Dr. Mechano, hoping to bring you more Eggman Editorials in the future!

#articles #eggman editorials #eggman #robotnik #articles dr mechano #sonic x #sonic boom #sonic lost world #el gran gordo

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drarry-please · 5 years

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The eighth year common room is noisy and boisterous in a charming way that reminds Harry of the Gryffindor one, it`s only lacking a coat of burgundy red paint and several in your face Gryffindor posters. This common room is a much more calming colour, the walls are bricked and painted white, the couches and arm chairs are random colours and the whole room is so random it portrays the personalities mixed into the year perfectly.

Tonight the eighth years have a fire blazing and are crowded around slouched in arm chairs and sprawled across sofa`s sipping whiskey that Seamus had somehow managed to sneak past the charms on the entrance hall.

“Oi Seamus,” Harry shouts across the room, his voice i laced with alcohol and he doesn`t sound like himself. “How`d you get the firewhiskey into the castle?”

“It`s because he`s Irish!” Dean announces loudly.

“You can`t argue with that logic.” Draco quips from his seat next to Harry.

Harry snorts and raises his glass up, “To the luck of the Irish!” He says before downing the remaining liquid.

“Careful Potter, we both know what happens to you under the influence of alcohol.” Draco says plucking Harry`s empty glass out of his hand.

Harry leans in and presses his lips to his sort-of-boyfriends ear. “I get unbelievably horny?” He mumbles quietly.

Draco smirks and consider this, “I was actually going to go with you throw up everywhere but you`re not wrong.”

Harry leaves his lips against Draco`s ear and nibbles gently on the fleshy earlobe.

“Stop mauling me, you barbarian.” He says and pushes Harry further back into the lumpy arm chair.

“Wanna go up to the dorm for a bit before everyone goes to bed?” Harry asks.

Draco shoots him a glare and shifts away from him on the sofa, “Stop being so astoundingly obvious, Potter.” He hisses.

“Oh come on I just mauled you in front of everyone, they already know!” Harry says rolling his eyes.

“Whatever,” Draco makes to stand up before turning back to face Harry. “Come on then, or do you want me to start without you?”

“I`m coming.” Harry says getting up from the couch.

“You will be.” And with that Draco makes his way to the stairs.

Once Harry reaches the dormitory door the nervousness begins to creep in, his Dutch courage fading slightly. He swallows and reminds himself that he is a Gryffindor before pushing the door open behind Draco. Once inside he locks the door and casts a privacy charm that should send the other boys back to the common room if they go to enter the dormitory.

Taking a deep breathe Harry turns around to face Draco, he`s standing somewhat awkwardly by his four poster bed, the entire lanky six foot of his struggling to stand up straight beneath the hangings. He looks almost as nervous as Harry feels.

“Come here.” He says his voice wobbling.

Nervously, Harry steps away from the threshold of the door. Draco couldn’t have been standing more than ten feet away but the distance between them felt a mile wild. Harry swallows before striding forward to stand directly in front of Draco.

Once the gap between them had been closed Harry was on Draco in a matter of seconds. He pushes his body up against him and desperately pressed their lips together trying to push Draco back onto the bed. Draco goes with the weight of their bodies and is soon lying sprawled on his back with Harry straddling his hips.

Summoning all the courage lurking inside him Harry leaned forward and aligned his lips with Draco`s ear. Their cheeks we pressed together intimately.

“I want you to fuck me,” Harry whispers into Draco`s ear, “I`ve been thinking about it. Practicing by myself at night wishing you were there.”

“Harry..” Draco realeses a shuddering breath and gently tugs Harry`s hair to get him to lift his head and look him in the eye. “I want you, you`ve no idea how much. But you`ve been drinking, and-”

“I`m not drunk!” Exasperation fills Harry`s voice as he frowns down at Draco. “I just needed a little Dutch courage to get in the right mood. Honest, ask me anything i`d only know sober.”

“Okay, well tell me does a billywig root act as an acid or an alkaline in the base of an elemental potion?”

“Something i`d know sober you prick!”

“Ugh fine i believe you, i reckon if you were drunk you would`ve said acid.” Draco laughs as Harry continues to stare at him blankly.

“Right enough potions talk.” Harry mutters smiling fondly at the blonde. “Kit off.”

They`d seen each other naked before, and of course they had done things together. They`d even had sex before but Harry had never been confident enough to bottom.

Draco hesitates with his hands on the buttons of his cotton shirt before apparently changing his course of action and pulling Harry into a sweet kiss.

He locks his lips with Harry`s and threads his pale fingers into Harry`s wild hair. He then opens his mouth and begins to lick into Harry`s deepening the kiss. Harry makes a soft noise and tightens his hold on Draco`s hips. Gently he bumps up, his cock is half hard as it hits Draco`s and they rock together sweetly. Their mouths are locked together and tongues intertwined they rock into each other making soft noises only for one another to hear.

Soon their grinding becomes too much too bear and Harry pulls back panting breathlessly. Draco looked wrecked, his blonde hair was sex tousled and they haven`t even started yet, his lips are red and shiny with spit and his eyes are glazed over.

Harry wandlessly removes both of their clothes, vanishing them to some far corner of the dorm and they both moan as their bear cocks come into contact. Draco moves as if to begin grinding again but Harry presses his hips down into the bed, using the leverage to push himself into an upright position on Draco`s thighs.

He rakes his hand through his damp hair and grabs his wand from where he had dropped it on the bed.

“Lubricus.” Harry casts before gasping and arching his back as he feels his insides suddenly become slippery with too much lube. He glances down at Draco to see his mouth hanging half open uncharacteristically.

Harry reaches behind himself keeping his eyes on Draco`s face and locates his slick entrance with his index finger. He pushes gently and feels his face screw up a little at the resistance he feels there. Draco`s hands come up to rest on the tops of his thighs and he uses his thumb to stroke the inside of one as Harry works a finger inside himself. He gasps at the feeling and Draco`s hands tighten on his thighs. Once in the pain has subsided a little Harry twists the finger. He pushes in further and Harry gasps again at how full he feels. He wiggles the finger gently and the tightness begins to ease off a little, he pushes and massages until it begins to feel good. He pulls it out and lines up two to push in, gently he begins to work them inside. Both fingers immediately sink in to the knuckle and Harry eases himself down even further. It is a stretch and it stings but he holds his breath and waits until the stinging calms down. The muscle begins to gradually relax until he is able to push and pull both fingers in and out.

Suddenly, as he pushes them back in his fingers brushed a spot inside himself that make him moan out loud as pleasure spirals through his body.

“Jesus Christ,” Draco whispers his eyes wide and pupils black as he watches Harry ride his own fingers.

Harry scissors his fingers inside himself and stretches the muscle, he gasps at the sensation his eyes still locked with Draco`s. Draco grips his cock brutally hard and bites down on his bottom lip viciously, to stop himself coming Harry realises, which is bloody hot.

“I`m ready,” Harry says pulling his finger out with a wince. He reaches for his wand and casts a protective charm which feels like a bubble popping in his belly.

He begins to reach down to grab Draco`s cock but Draco`s hand stops him. He pushes Harry`s hands out of the way and gently rolls Harry over onto his back.

“Trust me,” Draco says sincerely while looping Harry`s legs around his waist. He casts his own lubricant spell and slathers his cock. Draco fits himself comfortably between Harry`s legs and thumbs down his aching, flushed prick and prods at Harry`s loosened rim making him gasp at the sensation.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” Draco`s voice is high and breathless as he pushes forward meeting Harry`s green eyes.

Harry sighs out a moan and bites his lip arching into Draco and he presses in and begins to slide in. “Oh shit, don`t stop!”

Harry loops his legs more firmly and he tips his hips up encouraging Draco to thrust in harder. Above him Draco is shuddering and trying to restrain himself as he presses into Harry`s unbelievably tight quivering channel.

Finally, Harry lets his eyes roll back and his head tip up, his whole body flushed and trembling and Draco bottoms out.

Draco slowly begins to grind his hips without pulling out, letting Harry get used to the feeling. Soon Harry is bucking up into his slow gentle ruts, trying to encourage a faster pace.

“Yes Draco, so good, faster.”

He begins to pull out a few inches before thrusting back in making Harry loll is head helplessly. Harry rocks up into his repeated thrusts moaning his name on a loop that has Draco wild with lust and fucking Harry into the mattress before long.

Harry makes soft desperate noises and fists his hands in the sheets when Draco begins to nail his prostate. Draco plunges faster and harder trying to entice more of these delicious noises from Harry.

He begins to grind into Harry faster, angling for his prostate on every rough thrust.

“Yes come on Harry.”

Harry scrabbles at the sheets and makes a noise that sounds oddly like a sob before crying out. “Touch me!”

Draco quickly obliges causing Harry to tighten even further which has them both shuddering.

Harry makes a delicious sound and breaks over the edge into climax digging his heels into Draco`s back as Draco thrusts into him ruthlessly. Draco spills over the edge moments later.

They lie together still connected eyes locked together. They don`t have to state how they feel, or label what they have because right now they have each other and after everything they have been through that`s all that matters

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #harry/draco #harry potter draco malfoy

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vanaera · 6 years

Text

Sober (M)

Synopsis | Every night, you live and die in different beds of different men but tonight, you'll give yourself a chance to live and die in the arms of Park Jimin. Characters | Jimin x you Genre | angst, smut (Friends with benefits AU) Wordcount | 2,138

Play Sober by Lorde

There will always be things that will be divided by lines. Limitations, boundaries, fine lines. It's easy to perceive them when you're rational, head cleared of any obstruction that could blind you. No pretenses, no facades; it's easy if you were the third person. But tonight, you are your own person and you're drunk. And in love. At least that's what you thought when you met his eyes under the flashing colored lights.

It was Park Jimin's steadfast independece that has always stirred your heart. How he lived life as if he was its sole architect - his terms, his rules, his lines. He sits on the bar stool, legs crossed, back relaxed, eyes tenacious and calm. Always in control. Just like an unfamiliar specimen in an exploited world, you were drawn to the gleam of his eyes you’ve never seen in anyone. Just like a moth to a fire, you encircled yourself in his flame and tried to see more of his beauty. Just like the sun to Icarus, he was beautiful from afar, painfully scorching too close, but it didn’t deter you to reach more of him.

Even if it would lead to your demise.

"What are you doing here, alone? Again, might I add." Your red-lipsticked lips pulled in a tight stretch of a smile.

He chuckles, almost throwing his head back, fingers sweeping his bleached blonde locks. He always come in different colors and like always, he’s astoundingly ethereal. "What, am I not allowed to be alone?"

Your words cross the line you drawn on your tongue before your mind could process them. "No, but I wish you were."

"What do you mean?"

The glint and gleam of his eyes seemed to taunt you. Goddamn it, he knows what you were talking about and his rotten self had the nerve to feign innocence. Sheep in wolf's clothing, an abomination of the ideal man you declared was your taste but he's Jimin, your Park Jimin. His horrendous trail of open-ended relationships and hanging promises to countless of girls, like you, begs to differ but the night was yours and it was your reality - tonight he's yours. Nobody else’s but yours. With the way you could sense his eyes melting your own, grazing every bit of your curves and edges the lights have colored in the dark, you knew you were his.

You laugh, the sound hurting your throat and your head. You sit next to him, crossing your legs to hike up the tight red dress on your thighs. "Don't mind me, I'm just drunk." You adore the way his eyes instantly fleet to the skin you exposed. Only you could do this to him.

"I don't mind," he smirks, hands waving off whatever misconstrued statements exchanged. What you said meant the world to you but you know they won't change a thing. "Why don't you sit down, baby girl and let's get acquainted again, hmm?" He says as if he was a stranger who hadn't had you screaming his name the night before. His eyes stay too long on the luscious expanse of your thighs. You smile. You already know what will come.

Jimin talks about his life lately, and you do too, liquors held in fragile glasses between your fingers as you speak about volatile engagements you had to fill the voids on your chest. And as you do so, you can’t help to arouse the emotions you’ve always kept at bay for him – “maybe it would be different with us”, “maybe we won’t be as toxic as other people has termed us”, “maybe if you looked at me the same way I look at you, you would finally feel what you’ve always been seeking for.” But you know you can’t say them yet. The only thing you could do was placate the hard feelings bubbling on the banks of your chest was hard liquor. “One shot”, “two more”, “another round.” The harder the better, the drunker much better. No obstruction of morals and reason at play, no pretenses that you're alright and fine are needed to be held up. You could only get what you want when you're inebriated - him and you, you and him. And it seems like he thought so too, because he ordered for more before he caressed the soft, hot flesh of your hands as if he was your lover. You didn’t need to count anymore because soon, his lips landed on your own, lines of your chapped lips softening each other, hands grabbing and pulling - strands of your hair, seams of your clothes, you didn't care. The buzz of the alcohol has painted the both of you in a new shadow. Now, you are lovers loving each other as if it will be your last day. With him, you always tend to live like it's your last.

You knew Jimin like the back of your hand, mapped his character and body in every corner of your mind that his name slips so easily between your parted lips when you sleep, when you dream, when you kiss. You whispered his name to the wrong men for so many nights and now he's finally here, legs entangled in the sheets of the motel, body encased in the cradle of your hips, lips on the juncture of your jaw. He’s lying in wait, about to ravish you. You're home and you hope you are his.

He pins your arms above your head before he settles on top of the continents of your body, cock teasing the entrance of your slick, wet cunt. He’s already made you lose yourself when his long fingers fucked you raw, but you know it’s not enough. The wetness pooling in your folds, now messing the sheets was enough of a sign. "I'm gonna fuck you now," he rasps, breathing labored at the sight of your arousal. "And you're going to cum only when I tell you to."

Your back arches into him, lungs gasping in wonder. "Y-yes, Jimin." Oh, how you love it when he takes control.

He sinks into you with no resistance and he thrusts hard, fast, and deep just like he knows how you want it. Of course, he'll give it to you. He’s already chartered the rivers and plains of your body to know you inside and out. And no one has compared yet to his navigating skills. Your legs wrap around his hips, drawing him impossibly closer to you so you can feel the thudding of his heart and compare it to yours. Its rapid, thunderous momentum is an addicting sensation. You graze your teeth on his naked chest as if tasting his rib-caged heart. You're going to take every opportunity you can while he's laying them out to you.

In the haze of pleasure and euphoria that he pounds to the marrow of your bones, you relive everything that has always been on the back-burner of your mind. With every kiss he splays on the blues and violets he lovingly painted on your skin, you wish you were your own architect of your life so you wouldn't have to repeatedly wish and hope upon things you know you can only partially have. His hand has already drawn the lines on your chest the moment you attempted to cross it two years ago, always in control like how he said it in the tiny motel room. "We'll fuck but we'll never kiss." You had no qualms about it. If this is how you'll own a part of him then so be it. Jimin has scattered his parts in awaiting hands of people who wished to have him and you are only one of the many. But you’re the only one he considered was his friend. Titles and labels are something you wish you could put on dotted lines for it to be official between the two of you. Even though what he written on yours can’t satisfy your hunger and desire, at least you got something close enough.

And each day you tread on the line in hopes to cross it someday.

It seems like your yesterday prayers were being granted when he’s lenient today on your boundaries. You tilt your body upwards and catch the plush of his swollen lips between your teeth. He returns the same magnitude and prods his tongue between the space, searching for yours, locking it with yours. You gave him more entrance and he drives deeper, your hips spreading more to have more of him. You mewl at the sensation.

In the heat of your love-making, you hear his breathy sighs, almost inaudible but your heart refused to ignore them. "Why are you always like this Y/N?"

He drives a hard thrust against the spot that makes you see stars and your voice breaks. "L-like what?"

"You drive me insane," he fastens his space making you gasp. He growls obscenities as he drills his cock in your tight walls and you cry out his name. "Fuck, you make me want to love you." You felt his hold loosening around your wrists, setting his elbows beside your head, caging you in his arms. And you see nothing but him and you. He’s never been this close that you could trace the constellations of his freckles on his milky skin. And you’ve never been this close to be able to look at the reflection of your face in his eyes: debauched, wrecked, happy.

The corners of your eyes started to wet. How can he see you like this? "Then do so."

His breathing hardens, eyes dilated, the muscles and sinews on his arms looked as if they're trembling. His lips are quivering. "You-you'll let me?"

You wrap your swollen lips on his to warm them up and you detach just in time to see them spread into a smile. "Of course I'll let you. It's you. It has always been you."

His reaction was instant. He drops his elbows and wraps his arms around your shoulders, molding you against him to compliment his ripped seams – hips to hips, chest to chest, his heart against yours. His thrusts go sloppier and for the first time, you finally get what you really want. "Fuck, I-I love you, Y/N, I love you, I love you."

The tears have already welled down on your cheeks. "I l-love you too."

And then he cums, searing your insides with hot white ropes of his love. “Cum for me, Y/N. Let go now, babygirl.” You scream, the stars behind your lids burning bluish white as you fall apart. Your walls instantly clamped on his throbbing length, milking him, dragging out his high and he moans. He lets out a broken littany praises of how good you took him, how good you made him feel but what only registers in your mind is how he breathed "Only you could make me feel, like this," in the shell of your ear when he ruined you in his arms, when you've reached the utopian euphoria you've only came short of for countless nights. He loves you, finally. He loves you.

But will he mean it when he’s sober?

Deep down, you know all of this could be nothing but a heightened melodrama. You didn't want to stain your state with impermanence but it is inevitable not to do so.

Daylight will break and the warm colors will sink the gray ceases of the empty duvet by your side that has always been familiar. You're already used to the cold absence hogging to the sheets, nothing will be different. You already knew he wouldn't remember by the clear dew of the day anything spoken and hidden in the messed up blankets of the night. Lines have always been drawn and they will always be clear in the scorching daylight. A night that passed so fast will not be enough to smudge the line he already marked on your chests: "We're just friends."

This is how it ends and you’ve fucking relived it countless of times. But you still try. Maybe this time will be different.

Jimin has already wrapped your naked body pressed to his under the white blanket. Your head is placed against his chest, fingers entwined with his calloused ones. "Do you mean what you said?" your breath ghosts against his warm skin.

“What did I say?” your fingers felt him stiffen in your hold and you didn't want to look at his eyes. Before he could speak of anything that could instantly destroy this reality you fixed in your mind, you back-pedaled to your words and replaced them with something he can answer. "What will we do when we're sober?"

"I don't know. Maybe us?"

You smile. Closing your eyes, you sunk further into him.

You'd like to believe him someday.

View more songs here

A/N | HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE ONE AND ONLY MOCHI, PARK JIMIN! Keep pursuing your dreams and endeavors and know that in every step of the way, us ARMYs will continue in supporting and loving you. I hope you enjoy your day, birthday boy. Thank you for teaching us how to love ourselves and letting us help you love yourself too.

Jimin,you nice, keep going! i LOVE YOU!

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nanasses · 6 years

Text

why the hell does tumblr change words into emojis

Hi! I made a lil drabble based on this post:

And I’m kind of excited to share it with you guys! My writing may need a little more work, but it was difficult to fit this all in. I might make this a whole fic posted on AO3, but we’ll see.

Hope you all enjoy!

Makoto was a pleasant man, as defined by his relatives and close friends. He had never missed the opportunity to open the door for someone, leave large tips after eating, or lend them his things in case of need. It was more of a subconscious habit he’s never grown out of, and never will grow out of. Somewhat like a personality trait.

He had hung up from a phone call with his mother, ambling through the cramped sidewalk of Tokyo. University has ended for the day, and Makoto was heading to the small cafe he works in. He was at his third day, and would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy it. Makoto smiles at an old lady beside him.

The light turns green and Makoto jogs across the street. A ginger cat lazing in front of a closed shop opens its jaw in a soundless yawn, stretching its limbs. Makoto crouches down and scratches under its chin, grinning lightly. It purrs at the contact.

Makoto continues his journey, humming a tune. He spots Nagisa in front of the cafe, writing on the chalkboard. Makoto calls out his name with a wave, and Nagisa beams.

“Mako-chan! You’re here!” he exclaimed, dropping the pink chalk onto the ground. Nagisa spreads his arms and tackles Makoto into a tight hug. Makoto laughs.

“Good afternoon, Nagisa,” he greeted, patting his head. Nagisa pulls away and grabs onto his wrist, leading him to the back. The chalk is left on the sidewalk unattended. “N-Nagisa! Hold on!”

Nagisa shoots Makoto a stick of his tongue out and rummages through his apron pocket, pulling out a brass key.

“Come on, get ready! It isn’t so easy in there,” Nagisa warned him, waggling his finger. Makoto shoots him a bemused look, but Nagisa has left completely. He lets out a puzzled huff and unlocks the back door.

The kitchen was mayhem. Employees run back and forth, fumbling with desserts and spilling drinks. They whiz through the kitchen doors and come back only seconds later, shouting out orders and picking up new ones. Aiichirou turns to Makoto with a pleading look, wiping off whipped cream on his forehead.

“T-Tachibana-san! We really need your help!” he squeaked. “It’s...it’s crazy out there!”

Makoto stands, still in shock. He shakes his head and nods, rolling up his sleeves. Makoto swiftly picks up his apron from a hook and puts it on, tying it in double knots.

“What do you need me to do?” Makoto asked, slipping on his matching beret. Aiichirou stumbles and picks up a stack of yellow post-it notes, shoving it into Makoto’s chest.

“Orders,” he wheezes, pointing to the doors. Makoto takes them and pulls out a ballpoint pen from his jean pocket, nodding.

Makoto slips past his coworkers, pushing the door open with his back. He almost drops his pen when he sees why everyone is panicking.

The cafe is packed with waiting patrons. The line by the counter stretches ‘til the very back of the room, and at least four tables have hands raised. Customers look unsatisfied and grumpy waiting for their turn. Makoto turns to Rei, their manager, who seems to be muttering theories to himself while he prepares the perfect cup of coffee.

“R-Rei! Why...why is there so many people?” Makoto squawked, sweating despite the air-conditioners in full blast. Rei gives him a drained, haunted look, mechanically operating the coffee machine.

“Rush Hour,” he whispered fervently.

“I—what?” Makoto stammered.

“Every Monday...from afternoon to evening...ev-everyone i-is...”

“Rei! Where’s the matcha tea!”

“ROGER!”

Makoto stumbles backwards as Rei gets back to work on auto-pilot, ignoring his existence. He gulps and scrambles out, taking orders from disgruntled groups of friends and exasperated couples. Makoto apologizes to each of them deeply, bowing at an exactly forty degree angle. Their expressions softened.

He dashes back into the kitchen, yelling out the orders without breaking a sweat. Momotarou shoves a pineapple cake to his chest and pushes him out the kitchen violently.

“Table fourteen!” he yells before slamming the kitchen doors shut. Makoto twists back incredulously, then forward, holding the ceramic plate carefully with both hands. He gasps for air in the claustrophobic cafe, trudging through the crowd. He carves a way through with his arm forward, glancing at each table’s number. Makoto suppresses a shudder at the breach of personal space on all ends.

Makoto almost sinks to the ground in relief when he spots the number, but shock holds him intact. A lone person with black hair sits unfazed, fingers interlaced on his lap, and a peculiar coat of some type is draped over his armchair, which Makoto could identify was made of animal skin. He swallows and approaches the table, putting on his best smile.

“I heard you ordered pineapple cake?” Makoto said unsurely, holding it out. The man turns around slowly to regard him, and it almost knocks Makoto out breathless.

The first thing he notices was his eyes. They were a brilliant blue shade, and Makoto already knows he would get lost in them voluntarily. His skin was ashen, contrasting to the blue hue of his irises, but they compliment each other astoundingly. Makoto swallows a second time, forgetting the use of words.

“...Thank you,” he whispered, taking the plate with a brush of fingers. Makoto’s heart skips a beat.

“I-um...I...call me if you need anything!” Makoto laughs nervously, dashing back behind the counter. The boy doesn’t look amused, or annoyed, even. His face stays stoic, unknowing, uncaring. He was trapped in his own little universe within his mind, filled with different tales and thoughts Makoto would never be able to perceive.

Asahi shakes him frantically to remind him of Rush Hour, and Makoto is back to working, struggling to keep the stranger off of his mind.

***

Closing time nears in tedious seconds ticking excruciatingly slow. The remnants of Rush Hour have gloriously thinned out to a few patrons sipping drinks, eating desserts, and conversing with one another. Makoto wipes off the sweat on the arch of his brow and leans leisurely against the counter, supporting himself with his aching hands. The man he’s served is still on his seat, staring out into oblivion at blinking traffic lights and blaring car horns. He has finished his cake long ago, but makes no attempt to leave his spot.

Makoto would glimpse at him from time to time, engrossed with his mysterious aura and natural beauty. He would have to wipe the corners of his mouth in case he drooled, because just one look at that boy has got Makoto wrapped around his finger. It was almost humorous.

The boy tilts his head upwards, gazing at the moon in wonder. It was the most emotion Makoto has caught him expressing, and it was astounding. Makoto smiles to himself, looking down at the cracked tiled floor.

A couple raise their hands and Makoto quickly scrambles over to them, dusting off the flour on his apron.

“May I help you?” Makoto asked, clasping his hands together behind his back. The couple ask for their bill and Makoto nods frantically, skipping over to the counter. He glances once more at the man he served, then skids to a halt. The table was vacant, save for the ceramic plate and spilled crumbs, but what caught his attention was the coat draped on the now empty armchair, swaying with the breeze of the air-conditioning. Makoto looks between the couple he was supposed to attend to, and the forgotten valuable. He chewed on his bottom lip, cursing himself.

Makoto grabs the coat and dashes out into the moonlit sidewalk. Streetlights illuminate the outline of passing cars and trucks, whizzing by in a flash of red orange. Makoto looks from side to side, desperately seeking for the dark-haired owner. An abnormally green headlight irradiates an eloquent silhouette in the distance, and Makoto sucks in a breath, sprinting for the patron.

“W-Wait!” he shouts over the roar of air in his ears. The man looks back in confusion, tilting his head in an insufferably adorable manner. Makoto catches up to him and grasps his knees, panting and heaving. He raises up the coat and looks at the man who stares at him in astonishment. Makoto straightens his back, towering over him with a minor height difference but extremely little confidence as he grips the coat even tighter. “Y-y-you...you left...this...”

Makoto looks away, cheeks tainted pink. His slimmer, longer hands brush with Makoto’s larger, warmer ones for a second time, and his heart skips a beat once again. Makoto finds the confidence to look back at him again, puffing up his cheeks.

“I...I need to go,” the stranger whispers, holding the coat tight in his trembly hands. If Makoto squinted, he could perceive a faint blush tinting the pale of his skin. He slowly turns around, ready to leave.

“Wait!” Makoto repeats, holding his hand out. The man’s foot hovers over the ground, casting a dark shadow on the hard concrete. Makoto swallows away the negative thoughts swirling through his mind like a whirlpool, and his arm stiffly drops to his side. “What...what is your name?”

He doesn’t turn back, but his foot is firmly pressed onto the sidewalk. Makoto crosses his fingers behind his back, blinking furiously.

“Haru...” he pauses. “Haruka.”

Haruka. Haruka. Makoto likes the way it rolls down his tongue. He mouths the name a few times, getting used to the tingly sensation that crawls up his back. Makoto tilts his head upwards to look back at him, but Haruka had disappeared from sight, no trace left of his appearance.

Makoto looks down to his palms, frowning.

***

“Strawberry shortcakes and green tea!” Makoto said happily, placing the order down on the round table. The girls ogle him shamelessly and giggle to each other. Makoto laughs nervously, crossing his arms protectively over his chest. Nagisa whistles from behind the counter and a blush spreads across his face.

Makoto quickly leaves the situation in a flustered mess, slapping his freckled cheeks to get rid of the unmistakable red contrasting to his sun soaked skin.

“Mako-chan’s really popular with the girls, huh?” Nagisa teases, elbowing him on the stomach.

“Nagisa...” he whines, sticking his bottom lip in a pout. Nagisa chuckles and steals a cookie from the display.

“You get too embarrassed too easily,” Nagisa said over a mouth full of diabetes. Makoto shudders.

“Yeah, well it’s not my fau—“

“You get too embarrassed too easily,” Nagisa said over a mouth full of diabetes. Makoto shudders.

“Yeah, well it’s not my fau—“

The bell hanging over the front door chimes, and Makoto and Nagisa straighten their backs, plastering a customer service smile.

“Hi, and welcome to—“

Makoto’s words die in his throat when he makes eye contact with blue eyes staring directly at him, gleaming with wonder and astonishment. Makoto blushes harder this time, but he keeps his gaze.

“Haruka,” he whispered airily.

Haruka steps forward gently, keeping his hand firmly behind his back. He has on a hoodie three sizes too big and khakis shorts. The colors clash with one another, but Makoto barely notices as Haruka stands in front of him, only separated by the counter.

“H-Hi,” Makoto stammered intelligibly.

Haruka tips his head, pulling his hand away from his back. Makoto blinks in interest at the black, velvet box he carried on his palm.

“What’s this?” he asked, leaning over the counter. Haruka blushes to the tip of his ears, looking away, and it was the most endearing action Makoto has witnessed. The chatter of customers and Nagisa’s teasing slowly die down into background noise when Haruka opens the box, revealing a silver dolphin curved into a perfect ring. It sparkles under the rays of sunlight. The colors were iridescent and rainbow prisms dance over the intricate design, resembling a kaleidoscope. Makoto’s mind blanks.

“I-I came back be-because I thought we should get married by...human customs as well...” Haruka muttered almost inaudibly. A woman on the nearest table gasps, and unhooks her finger from her cup. Makoto’s eyes widen when she stands up and claps for them.

“I—wait, wha—?”

More and more patrons stand up to clap, and some even whistle for the two. Makoto backs away from the counter slowly, shaking his head. The blush is furious, obscuring his skin color with a deep crimson. Rei stands a few feet away, brushing away a tear. Nagisa hoots and wraps his arm around Makoto’s shoulders.

“Mako-chan, you never told me you were dating!” he hollers into his ear deafeningly.

“I-I’m not...”

He trails off, looking at Haruka who seems to be just as embarrassed and... disappointed? Makoto’s trembling, and he clenches both hands into a tight fist. The crowd and staff chant ‘YES OR NO’, holding in their breath while they wait for the fateful answer. Makoto is overwhelmed to a high degree. He takes a deep breath and swallows dryly.

“I—uh, er...we...” Makoto almost slaps himself.

“...Y-yes?”

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