#that last one is just the dog ‘this is fine’ | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thevirtualvalentine · 2 days

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TAPE SIX : DOWNWARD DOG !

Starring… ‘Black Leg’ Sanji 📸

SET SCRIPT : “ooo what about sanji and yoga?”

MATURE WARNING(S) : smut, unprotected vaginal sex, dom!reader, mirror sex, yoga teacher!reader, student!sanji, handjobs, cunnilings, semi public sex, fingering, flirting, pervy!sanji, cum eating, femme!reader, minor cum play, “miss” used as a title, reverse cowgirl.

DIRECTORS CUT : for my first tumblr mutual @sanjisjuul !!!! I had to deliver the best for the ceo of Sanji. I got off that vc and started cooking in my drafts, I thought you’d enjoy the fic going in this direction. 🤭

Sanji did not really know what to expect using his “1 free session of yoga” ticket that zoro ended up gifting him for his birthday (long story). At the very least he was hoping he wouldn’t be there alone. However, of course fate casts its cruel hand and he’s the only one there in the studio.

Occasionally, his anxieties will get the best of him. He began frantically pacing the floors like a mad man and sees you walk in, his entire mood does an immediate 180. Just a second ago he swore he would destroy Zoro, now here he was singing his blessings in fine tune.

“Here all by yourself handsome?” you say smiling while walking through the studio doors to set down your belongings. One thing you adored was teaching beginners how to practice yoga, but it is very rare to have a male student. Especially one this handsome.

To be fair, for all his womanizing it’s rare that Sanji is shown the same energy back. The second your sultry voice slipped past your plump limps and called him handsome, he thought he was going to start hyperventilating or maybe salivating on the spot. You are the most beautiful woman he thinks he’s ever seen in his life, bountiful curls tied up in a silk scarf, a matching set that accentuates your undertones, and a set of eyes that pierce straight through his heart.

If Cupid shot him, he wouldn’t mind one bit. “Is it really just me in here?” He asks turning around the room to see if anyone had appeared from thin air within the last second.

“Don’t be scared, I don’t bite hun,” a shiver runs down his spine, “I’m y/n, your yoga instructor for today, just gonna be me and you so let’s try our best!” You clap your hands in excitement as you queue up some music.

Sanji will try his upmost best to not freak you out with his habit of love bombing and undying adoration for the mere ground you walk on, but only if you knew what he was thinking, ‘A beautiful babe and so radiant, goodness you could be the sun itself… a perfect goddess here before my very own eyes. Thank you stupid moss ball, but only this once.’

As you begin to work with Sanji, you quickly realize he’s excelling at all the physical parts of yoga, just not the mental ones. So, while he may be able to hit the cleanest triangle pose you’ve seen a beginner do due to sheer flexibility, he can’t seem to relax or concentrate at all.

“Deeper breaths Sanji, relax for me honey.” Well, he can’t when you say things like that to him. He is pleased to know you can’t tell it’s a furious blush overtaking his face because he can blame it on exercise and perspiration.

“I—,” your place your hand on top of his diagram, squatting down so you’re eye level with him, “can’t..” the weight of your palm makes his heart rate sky rocket

“Let’s try something different then, yeah?” How could he deny you when you ask so nicely with a pretty smile? He nods, waiting for further instructions. Sanji is an excellent student, what a good listener.

“Kay, I want you to sit on the floor in front of the mirror. Try to breathe in, and out deeply.” You motion for him to follow you to the mats, sitting down behind him as he tries to find his centering.

You curve your body behind him like a puzzle piece, ‘helping’ him by placing your hands on him once more. “Mhm, yes. Just like that.” He’s supposed to be watching himself in the mirror, practicing his breath, not watching your hands essentially grope him. Fuck. He’s going to get hard, he can already feel the blood rushing there with the help of your hot breath on the back of his neck.

You keep talking him through it, pretending not to notice the unruly state you’re leaving him in. He shudders continuously, unable to regulate his bodily functions when your hands begin to trail down his abdomen.

“I can help you relax better y’know, just ask,” your teeth graze the shell of his eat and he can’t help himself from begging for your sweet beautiful mercy.

Sanji is a big man, but he utterly trembles in your hold. His hard cock out in broad daylight as you stroke him for anyone to see if they walked into the studio by chance. You have him practically sitting in your lap with his legs spread wide open, pumping his cock in your hand as you turn his head to kiss you sloppily. He’s panting into each kiss, barely making the timing because he can’t stop moaning like a whore.

“Fu—fuckfuckfuck, ngh— wait slower slower,” he chokes out, his balls feel heavier knowing you’re watching his every twitch and whine in the mirror. You are beautiful but oh so cruel and he loves it.

“Slower? Didn’t you just say you wanted me to go faster? You don’t seem to be very smart Sanji,” you continue to pump him up and down as he feels his orgasm rearing its head already, he hasn’t gotten to feel you, he can’t cum yet.

The way you tut your head to belittle him makes Sanji want to squeal out in mind-numbing pleasure, it was just so perfect. “I’ll cum!! D-don’t wanna,” he pathetically whines.

You decide you’ll reward him for his honesty, slowing your hand to bite the sensitive skin of his neck. “Then switch places with me,” you offer, letting your eyes meet in the mirror. The pad of your thumb swirls over his oozing tip waiting for an answer.

If it wasn’t for the fact he was catching his breath, evident from the steep rise and fall of his chest, Sanji would have already been behind you. “Yes, pl..please.”

He helps strip your shirt over your head, massaging your breasts lightly and twirling your dark nipples between practiced fingers. You sigh into his touch, letting your head rest against his shoulder, “I like it hard and fast, can you do that for me Sanji? I wanna make sure it’ll all fit,” you pur.

“Fuck me,” he whispers under his breath, he’s still leaking. Yet he’s no where near as drenched as you are when he slides your panties down your legs.

Pools of it running down your ass crack, he coats his fingers in the white translucent substance. “Help yourself,” you tell him, eyeing the way he plays with it between his fingers. He spreads its before sticking it back together. What a perv.

He almost gags himself trying to taste it all, desperate for the sweetness. He plunges his fingers into your sopping cunt, sticking one knuckle deep while testing the waters. He prods around trying to see what you like, when he finds the one that makes you tighten around him, he smiles; adding in another lithe digit.

You’re leaning against him for support as he works up his pace, pounding his fingers into you like clockwork. Once he starts he can’t stop the inertia, feeling his muscles burn in his bicep and forearm.

But it’s worth it, all worth it when he hears your guttural whines and praises. Your pussy rewards him with even more slick that he stops himself to taste, gorging himself on it. “Let me taste it please, I have to taste the real thing, miss please,” oh and he begs so sweetly.

With a nod he scrambles around to wrap his arms around your thighs, strapping himself to your cunt. His tongue is hot and heavy on your lower lips, lapping at anything he can. “Augg-ahhh Sanji! Oh my god,” you can feel your eyes roll back into your skull as you prop yourself up on your elbows for some stability.

But he doesn’t stop, exploring further, pressing his appendage at your entrance. The smooth ring of muscle no match for his hunger as his tongue guts through you. “It fe—fuck—els so good, don’t stop!” If anyone else needed to come by the studio you’re sure it would sound like murder with the way he was killing that cat, no mercy.

He’ll scissors his digits, press his greedy fingers against your gummy soft walls while sucking your clit. Then maybe prod at that spot that makes you go limp. He’s just so excited he is getting to make you feel good he didn’t even realize he was also moaning. You were just so addicting, he felt at peace.

He stops when he realizes you came all over his face, coating him in the residue that he begins to lick up like an obediently trained mutt. You’re gripping his scalp with your nails to stop him from overwhelming you as he hisses. The sight of him below your mound is enthralling, so you drag his face in your cunt to work off the aftershocks. Grinding into his plush pink tongue.

You decide you’ll mount him reverse cowgirl on your feet (with help of course), he holds your hip as you find balance. You feel him start to stretch your entrance, welcoming the painful burn. He’s long and skinny, hitting a spot inside you that has you saying, “oh fuck,” as you try to take more of him.

You watch yourself in the mirror, his inches disappearing behind your pussy lips, form crumpled over trying to selfishly fit him all inside.

But you keep going, needy to hear more of what you could pull out of Sanji. Bounce by bounce you pick up the pace, swallowing his cock with each clap of your ass.

The view was unreal, your thick curls beginning to fall down your back as you worked up a sweat. Titties bouncing up and down as you rock back n’ forth on your feet. “More! More! Please, need it so bad miss!” His hands help piston you on top of him, wanting to lend you whatever support you might need from him. He’s just hoping you can’t see the way his toes curl from how tight and wet you are.

You place your hands behind you on his chest for even more balance, the new angle making you feel even fuller than before. You both felt on fire, your hot breaths began to fog up the mirror as you made love on the floor.

Sanji, desperate to feel you even deeper, thrusts up to match your pace. It makes his cock drag just right on your clit and the pressure begins to build again in your stomach. It’s not like he’s much better though, a blubbering mess underneath you even if you can’t see his face, the desperation of his hips is evident enough.

A few moments later you’re both a sweaty and convulsing mess on top of each other as he makes you cum harder than before. It knocks the wind out of you as you shake in pleasure. Sanji is left whimpering underneath you, unable to pull out.

“So, same time next week?” You ask.

Enjoy? Reblog & click to see event masterlist!

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the-kr8tor · 1 day

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Hie hie I love love your Hobie stories I was wondering if you could please could write something cute . So it’s about the twins asking their parents for a pet and they like seven but age is up to you and Hobie’s being all cheeky asking them if they would be good pet owners typical parent behaviour so they give them babydoll eyes to reader who can’t resist them and I guess the rest is up to you if that’s ok don’t wanna offend you in any way I love your work but if you can’t it’s no the end of the world thanks 😊

You didn't offend me dw dw! Thank you for requesting! ❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, No specific physical description of the reader, Mom! Reader, Dad! Hobie, Twin AU, Dad AU, Billie and Ramona AU, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The girls gasp simultaneously, a cute reaction that would have you smiling sweetly and cooing at them but when you followed their line of sight, you almost audibly groaned.

In each hand you have their tiny palms in yours, Ramona jumps excitedly, eyes sparkling at the luminescent fishes on display in the window of the pet shop. While Billie screeches unabashedly, the sound gets the attention of the nearby people who are coming out of the grocery store. Her hands tugs you towards the store. You swear that they've gotten stronger even though they're only five years old.

“Mummy!” Billie yells at the top of her lungs, pink trainers scrapping on the rough pavement. “They have a puppy!”

“Okay, okay, don't drag mommy around like your doll.”

Hobie chuckles behind you, hands full of groceries. You stare at him with a pout, wordlessly calling for help. He raises both hands, plastic bags crinkling, shrugging.

With a quick glare, he changes course from the teasing. “Listen to mum, Bee. Mon, your shoes are untied, you're gonna trip.”

“‘m okay!” Mona says, ribbons falling off her pigtails from all the jumping. “Can we see the fishes?” You crouch down to tie her shoes, an impossible feat while Billie tries to coax you into going inside the store.

Billie's voice triumphs over Mona's. “The dogs, mum!”

You inhale, wrangling the twins in your arms. “We'll go inside, only if you promise me to behave. And what did dad tell you last time?”

“Don't put your fingers inside the cages.” They both speak at the same time with the same flat cadence.

“And?” Hobie continues for you.

“Don't tap at the aquariums.” They simultaneously say, “can we go now?” Now their twin telepathy has you giggling and almost creeped if not for their cute faces staring at you, waiting for a response.

You decide to tease, hands holding onto their overalls. “Hmm, what do you think, dad?”

Hobie fakes a huff. “Dunno, love, these bags are heavy.”

“Dad!” Billie exclaims, stomping her little foot.

“Please, daddy?” Mona has a different plan, she pouts at Hobie, eyes all big, staring up and pleading with him.

The second Hobie nodded, you're sure that you won't be able to say no to a pet this time. You're already running out of excuses as to why they can't have one. The girls run off, leaving you in the dust.

“I'll just bring these to the car—” Hobie starts.

“Nuh uh” you grab him by his sleeve. “I need backup, I know they're gonna ask again. ‘sides, you can handle the bags, right?” Hobie scrunches his face, a resemblance of both girls when you ask them to eat their veggies. “You're my big strong spider—”

“Fine!” He says before you could finish your teasing. “I am strong.” He murmurs, pecking your cheek before following the girls inside.

“You are so strong!” Ragging him on, you race after him, quickly reciprocating the kiss by smooching his cheek with a resounding smack.

Hobie's lips curl into a sly smile, eyes roaming around the shop for his gremlins. You loop your arm around his own, carefully not adding to the weight. Hand kneading softly at his skin. He grins wider from how you lovingly hold him close.

“Ooh!” Billie's voice acts as a beacon for you and Hobie to follow. You see them both crouched down, eyes big and curious at the lonesome angel fish swimming in the tank.

“She's so pretty!” Mona adds, you're wishing that you brought your camera with you to capture the moment.

Sure enough, when you peek at the aquarium, the cobalt scales of the angelfish has you mesmerized too. “She is gorgeous.”

Both girls turn towards you simultaneously, smile all toothy with a few missing teeth in between their milk teeth. You already know what they're about to ask.

“Please?” Mona starts.

“We'll take good care of her!” Billie finishes with the perfect puppy dog eyes that you know the girls got from Hobie.

“Angelfish is a bit hard to take care of for a first pet. Maybe we should start off with a goldfish?” Hobie joins in unexpectedly, smile identical to the twins. You sometimes think it's unfair that you carried them for nine grueling months only for the girls to end up looking almost exactly like their father. This day is one of those days, because you know you cannot say no to that face. You've even joked about it to Hobie, to which he always replies with a ‘maybe the next one will look like you more.’ When you're too flabbergasted to reply, Hobie brings the other bag of groceries to his other hand to hold yours and then to bring your knuckles to his lips. You've lost, again. “Ain't that right, love?”

You sigh, surrendering to the whims of your adorable yet menace of a family. “Only if they promise to take good care of the fish.” The girls gasp, Billie even embraces Mona like they've won the war. “And it has to be a goldfish, okay?”

The girls can't hold their excitement any longer, they shriek happily, bounding over towards the goldfish section. Hobie kisses your hand again, this time longer, you can feel his smug grin through it. You shake your head with a groan, but you still peck his hand back.

“Wait, girls!” Hobie suddenly calls for them back. They both come hopping over to you. Billie and Mona getting what they want has turned them more obedient. Or they're just biased because their dad finally convinced you to agree. They look up at you sweetly, they know the effect of their cuteness, probably because of uncle Ned who gives them whatever they want if they just look at him all adorable like. “What do you say? Especially to mum?”

“Thank you, mummy!” Mona hugs your leg, while Billie joins in a second later.

Billie looks up, “kiss?” She asks, pouting her lips. No DNA test needed, definitely Hobie's kid, like there was any doubt.

“Of course, baby.” With a quick smooch, she smiles gratefully.

“Thank you, mummy, love you.” She murmurs into the denim of your pants, she's bringing out her big guns for this fish.

“I love you too!” Ramona joins in, puckering her lips too. You give her the same amount of smooch. “Thank you, love you.”

“And I love you both.”

“Okay, stop hounding mum, go pick out your fish.” Hobie pats them both on their curly heads, then both girls give him a not so sly thumbs up.

Mona gestures for her dad to lean down, Hobie obliges. She whispers in his ear but she still doesn't understand the concept of whispering so her tone is as loud as her usual one. “A doggy next time, daddy.”

Billie pipes up, of course hearing the entire thing. “Or a kitten!” You can see from Hobie's face that he wants the monitor lizard in the corner to eat him up.

Your family has played you like a fiddle.

They walk away giggling, talking about what name they should give their fish. Hobie looks back at a glaring you. “I love you so much—”

“You’re cleaning the tank.”

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shadowqueenjude · 2 days

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For @azrisweek Day 2: Familiars

Eris leaned forward on the couch, hand propped beneath his chin as he stared at Azriel in shock. “Don’t tell me you don’t have familiars in Night.”

“No, we don’t,” Azriel grumbled. “What the fuck is a familiar?”

Eris slapped his forehead with his palm. “An animal that attends to you, obeys you, and is in-tune with your emotions. Like my dogs, or Lucien’s phoenix, or Mama’s bunny.”

Azriel scowled. “I don’t like animals very much.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Everyone likes animals.” Eris got up from the couch, threw open his closet, and chucked some clothes at Azriel. “Quick, change into this,” Eris said without looking back. Azriel watched Eris as he stripped his clothes right there, his fine back muscles and ass on display. Azriel had no desire to go out; no, his only desire was to fuck Eris until they were both panting like.

Eris snorted as he began putting on his pants. “Yes, I know I’m glorious Azriel, but quit staring at me and put on your clothes!” Sighhhhhh. Azriel reluctantly turned around and began shucking off his own clothes. Just as Azriel bent over to reach for his clothes, a force came down on his butt with a massive THWACK!

“That’s for ogling me instead of getting dressed,” Eris said casually, practically floating to the door. Azriel glared at him. “Are you fucking serious?” Eris only winked before he waved his cloak and disappeared. Eris and his theatrics.

Azriel sighed as one of Eris’s bloodhounds licked his arm. “Did you have to bring all twelve of your dogs?” Azriel demanded, watching the little runt snoring on Eris’s shoulder.

“Obviously,” Eris replied. “They’re like friends; this one on my shoulder, Maya, she’s my familiar.” As if in response to Eris’s words, Maya barked politely at Azriel.

“I don’t like dogs, and so many? Ew,” Azriel complained. To his irritation, however, his shadows seemed to have a mind of their own. Each shadow has chosen a dog as its steed, his naughtiest shadow curled up beside Maya.

“Seems like your shadows disagree,” Eris retorted. Azriel scowled. His shadows were usually on his side, but they were still a separate entity; they were sentient and had minds of their own; sort of like familiars, actually.

Eris and Azriel scrolled through the animals on display, seeking the ideal animal for Azriel. “How the fuck do I know which one is my familiar?” Azriel asked.

Eris shrugged. “When you know, you know. You get this strange feeling. Like you’ve somehow met this animal before.

Azriel nodded. He hadn’t felt anything like that yet. He cringed away from a lionfish who stared at him with googly eyes. No, he did not like animals. Perhaps he should just stick with his shadows.

Just then, Azriel’s rebellious shadow leaped off of Maya and began running away.

“Hey! Wait!” Azriel began chasing the shadow across the store.

“Azriel! What are you doing?” Eris shouted, running behind them. Azriel expertly weaved between customers, using a beefy man’s shoulders to catapult him into the air and over an aisle as he chased the shadow. Sweat began to bead over his face. At last, finally, he leapt upon his shadow and caught it.

“Naughty boy,” Azriel scolded the shadow. “Don’t run away like that again.” He was just about to leave the aisle when he heard a little sound.

“Meow!” Azriel turned and saw the saddest little orange cat ever. His fur was all matted and there were red lesions all over his body. Tentatively, Azriel reached a finger through the bars. The kitty put two paws on his index finger and began licking it. So Azriel pulled out the cat, cradling him in his arms as he asked the front desk person about him.

“We found him like that,” the three legged faerie said with a shrug. “Worse, actually. He’s only been here a day, but keep him if you want. No charge; you’d be saving us money, actually.”

Finally, Azriel approached Eris, who had opted to walk to the front of the store and simply wait for Azriel. “Let’s go.” Eris raised a brow. “You got your familiar?”

As if in response, the orange kitten meowed again. Eris’s eyes slid down to his. “Oh, you’re so small.” His eyes then turned to Azriel, understanding shining there. “Excellent choice. Time to go home now!”

Eris and Azriel took the best care of that cat, and within a few weeks, his natural fluffy orange coat began to return, his eyes became brighter, and his spirit returned.

#azriel #azriel shadowsinger #eris vanserra #pro eris vanserra #azris #azrisweek2024 #azris supremacy #do not judge me this is stupid

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trappolia · 1 day

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SOMEWHERE IN NORTHERN ITALY...

HOW TO BEGIN?

Deuce Spade was never planning to stay over at the Trappola’s family villa this summer, really. Most people would have jumped at the chance to vacation in that opulent little property (their friend group had, once, in their second year; leapt at the chance like feral dogs the moment Ace Trappola mentioned free lodgings and proper food cooked by his doting nonna), but Deuce is polite now — too polite to impose even on his closest friend’s vacation home with a formal invitation, in fact, and so he was fully prepared to gently decline the proposal and suggest dropping by for a visit in a few weeks time instead—

But then his sweet mother was onto him, smacking the underside of his head gently and chiding him for being so withdrawn. She’d given him a few good reasons why he should go too, the main one being that this is your fourth and your final year as NRC students, and thus the last year he will ever be in the same school as the two of you. When put into perspective like that, she has a point. Deuce has rarely seen the two of you during your final year, work studies and internships having taken over the space and time that was once so easily dedicated to you and your other friends (Is that why it was almost too easy for him to decline the invitation? Are you already on the path to becoming strangers?)

So here he is now.

“My brother was s’posed to stay here too, just hangin’ around while we do our own thing — like some glorified chaperone or whatever — but he’s got himself engaged now, and they’ve been all over the place with wedding preparations,” Ace is saying, walking ahead of him and down the tree-lined driveway. Deuce’s trunk is held firmly in his palms, the slope of his shoulders uneven as the thing drags his weight down some. Deuce had meant to carry it himself, but you had smacked Ace and said something about how his nonna would be rolling in her grave to see him teaching guests with such disrespect.

He’s always been always better at listening to you anyway.

“So we’ve got the whole place to ourselves?” Deuce wonders aloud, trailing behind; billowy blue shirt, the exposed skin of his wide-open collar already prickling under the heat. He should have applied an extra layer of sunscreen while he was in the cab.

“We invited the others too, but Sebek and Ortho are both busy at home, and Jack’s staying over with Ruggie at his hometown to help out with the children’s grant,” you say, terra cotta linen hanging loose around your shoulders. Deuce had seen you first when he stepped out of the cab, your sweet smile and sunkissed face and that shirt he swore he’d seen Ace buy from the thrift last summer, but he can’t remember. Your arm comes to sling itself around his shoulders, and his sunburnt skin prickles at the contact. You barely wince, even though the sun’s mark has been kissed to your skin akin to a birthmark.

“And Epel?”

“Taking care of his Meemaw,” Ace says solemnly. "She isn’t as young as she used to be, you know."

Deuce says nothing. He’d heard of Nonna’s passing while he was still in the early months of his work study; and the condolences he sent Ace through the phone had been left on delivered for a little over a week before the other man had responded with a curt: thanks. it’s fine. He had not seen Ace when the fourth-years returned to NRC for school events — not until the later part of the year, at least; even then, there had been an uncharacteristic solemnity to his old friend that even you, not as touched by the loss of someone so close to you just yet, had no idea how to comfort.

“Well,” Ace grunts as they pass through the threshold of the family villa. He squares his shoulders back, sighing. “No point mopin’. Epel’s got his Meemaw to take care of, everyone else is busy, and Nonna will rise from the grave to give me a fuckin’ beating if I’m not a good host.”

“Damn right she will,” you grin, dragging Deuce over to fall in step beside Ace. Your other arm slings over the redhead’s shoulder, squeezing both men to your side with you sandwiched in the middle. “What d’you say we drop Deuce’s stuff off and then go make us some snacks? I’m fucking starved.”

“We literally just ate,” Ace grunts, and Deuce shifts his hip to accommodate for his arm when it wraps around your waist — then, to Deuce’s utter, utter surprise, Ace leans over to give you a friendly little kiss on the cheek. Despite his earlier statement, Deuce hears him mutter: “You’re helping me with the arancini this time.”

“We’ll get Deuce to help out in the kitchen too, won’t we?” you chirp.

“Did you just invite me to help cook food?” Deuce asks, and it’s meant to be a familiar tease because that’s how the three of you have always been; all sharp wit and teasing jabs and nasty comebacks that none of you actually mean. But the words slip out of Deuce’s mouth strangled, an odd lump in his throat as he becomes hyperaware of the distance between the two of you.

“Please,” Ace snorts, rolling his eyes as if he’d just said something silly. “Don’t be ridiculous. We called you here to do hard labour too. The pool needs some cleaning, and it’s been such a bitch trying to pull out the weeds in the garden— Ow!"

You bristle at that, smacking Ace over his head to chastise him for being so mean. Deuce watches Ace yelp, giving you a nasty look. “What the hell was that for!?”

“Don’t be fucking rude,” you snarl, screeching when Ace frees his arm from your hip to wrap it around your neck in an unceremonious headlock instead. It's a scene reminiscent of your youth, somewhere in between the spring of your first year in NRC and the summer before your group split up for work study, and something churns in Deuce’s gut; not quite nostalgia or even melancholy, but a strange sick that twists and turns somewhere near the bottom of his ribs.

Something had changed this summer, Deuce knows this now as he looks at the two of you, so entwined in such casual intimacy that for the first time in years, Deuce feels out of place.

What he doesn’t yet know is that that “change” is not quite finished yet.

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hxlda-hxlda · 1 day

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snippet! tagged by my darling @fiddleleafedfig <3

“Alright Loony–”

“Fuck you, Crouch.”

“Lupin, darling,” Barty drawls, tongue curling along his teeth, “don’t threaten me with a good time.”

Remus catches the sound of Sirius huffing an irritated scoff.

“Fuck, marry, kill,” Barty goes on with a hum, surveying the room in what can only be a sign of trouble. Remus prepares himself for the worst. “Potter, Pettigrew and,” he stretches the syllable out, “Black.”

Regulus punches Crouch in the arm, hard enough for him to cry ‘Oi!’.

“They’re already at each other’s throats as it is, you idiot,” Regulus hisses.

“It’s an innocent question!”

“Remus, you don’t have to–”

“No, no, it’s fine.”

Remus clenches the beer resting on his thigh, deciding to drain it in one long gulp; weighing his options. He feels bad, almost, for the way James has been fidgeting uncomfortably for the last thirty minutes - something that has only increased since the game began. For Lily’s grim look that shows she thinks there are much better ways to spend their limited time.

Not, however, for the way Sirius glares pointedly at him. No, Remus relishes that part, actually.

“Fuck James,” he says.

Remus’ eyes flick over to him but James hardly acknowledges Remus, staring down into his own beer.

Evan raises his drink in apparent concurrence.

Remus scans the rest of the circle before coming back to look at Sirius Sirius. Always fucking looking at Sirius. Well, it pays off this time, when he catches the slightest of flinches after annoucning:

“Marry Peter.”

A cackle of laughter that can only be Barty. Remus can feel Regulus’ own glare now. He’s being purposefully bitter, petty, whichever other synonym you might enjoy putting here. If only he cared.

“And kill Black.”

The game continues, must do, but Remus cannot make out the jumble of words. Not with the deafening way Sirius is still, silent, angry – so, so angry. Remus can hear it in the pump of his heart, a beat he would recognise anywhere. He told them he’d forgotten it (he was lying).

It becomes a staring contest then, in a way. Unwavering, steely grey eyes. Those fucking grey eyes.

They used to do this, Sirius and Remus, Padfoot and Moony.

Slum dogs in the depths of a darkened alleyway. Fierce, as though in a stand-off, they growl over the last bone. The meat is already rotted, but what else do they have?

“Just gotta let him know he’s boss, that’s all the big puppy wants. I just roll over, show him my tummy and voilà, there you have it. No need for a big fuss. Besides, Moony always remembers me.”

“I’m impressed you can handle that. You hate not being the one in charge.”

“Yeah, well, I always make the exceptions for you. Don’t I, Moons?”

Sirius snatches his eyes away first, to his lap, to James, briefly at Regulus. It breaks whatever spell that held them both there. Conversation resumes, time resumes, it could have never happened in the first place.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Black.”

“You know what, Remus? I finally fucking believe that.”

open tag to anyone who wants to share a snippet!! i have hardly been writing while overseas, so here is something i wrote quite a few months ago (and am still rather fond of). it’s from the death eater remus fic, if you’re curious!!

#fic: i won’t believe you #writing tag #marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar

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