#and i’ve had to step out five times already to go blow my nose in the bathroom

[alwaysneedyforsir]

i hate being sick.

#me #my thoughts #i’m out to dinner w my mom and brother #(woo he’s back in town for the weekend!!) #and i’ve had to step out five times already to go blow my nose in the bathroom #it won’t stop running #ok yes fine you win standing outside for an hour in the semi cold was not a good idea as fun as chatting w you was #(to my friend that told me i’m being stupid for hanging out w them outside today) #(your bike is still hella cool tho) #(you def don’t have tumblr or follow me but if you do no you don’t) #oh and i’m still on my period!! extra fun #i am dyinggggg

[lifeofkaze]

Stars Above

A/N: This story was written for @hp-12monthsofmagic November prompt "Remember, remember." Warning: dealing with grief, death of a family member

Castle Combe, 1979

“Orville, Gregory. Parish constable. 1671 - 1715.”

“Okay, how about this one?”

“Weaver Penelope. Seamstress. 1748 - 1782.”

“And this?”

The voices of the two children carried clearly through the older part of the Castle Combe graveyard. It wasn’t the most common place to play but people passing them by on their way into the old church of St Andrew's hardly took notice of their presence. The Campbell children had always been odd; no one really questioned them. 

“Franklin, Edmond. Cheesemonger. 1815 - 1835. Struck dead by a cheese wheel falling onto his head.”

The little girl walking behind the rows of weathered graves stopped short in her tracks.

“You can’t possibly know that.”

“But I do.”

“How?”

The older boy, with the same gold-blond hair as his sister, drew his lips into a patient smile. “It’s called research, Ava.” 

Ava made a frustrated noise. They had been playing for the better part of an hour now, and Jamie was five correctly guessed - no, not guessed; remembered - historical dates ahead of her. Her count had been better than average but she had messed up the baker’s daughter and the old vicar. Frustrated, she sank into the grass in front of Miller, Adelaide, 1813 - 1878.

“Why must you always be so clever?” she asked Jamie with a wrinkled nose. 

“Runs in the family, I believe,” Jamie laughed, but not unkindly. “Maybe some of it will rub off on you eventually.” 

“Sometimes I’m not so sure about that.” Ava paused. Quietly, she said, “It’s going to be lonely without you, once you’re back at school.” 

“First term is only until Christmas. I’ll be back before you know it.” 

“Promise?”

Jamie raised his hand towards Ava, little finger outstretched. “I’ll always be there for you, Ava. I’m your brother, am I not?” 

Smiling, Ava hooked her little finger beneath her brother’s. “Forever?”

“For as long as there are stars above.” 

1987 

Castle Combe had gone dark. The wind had picked up earlier and was chasing heavy clouds over the sky. It lifted Ava’s hair off her shoulders as she slipped from her parents’ house unnoticed. Quietly, she walked through the deserted village streets. When she reached the graveyard, Jaime was already there. 

He stood in front of the grave of Miller, Adelaide, pensively watching the stone that had only crumbled more and more since the last time he and Ava had visited the graveyard together.

“You’re back.”

Ava had stopped a good deal from her brother, having to raise her voice not to be drowned out by the hissing of the wind. It didn’t matter. Jamie had known she was there from the moment she had stepped foot onto the leaf-littered grass. He turned, a solemn expression on his face. 

“I felt like there were some things I needed to explain.” 

“Go on then.”

“I don’t think you understand what it meant to me, Ava,” he said, taking a step towards her. “The Vaults are a mystery, a myth, to all of our kind. This was my chance to find out something nobody has before, to be looked up to for what I’ve achieved.”

“I’ve always looked up to you.”

Jamie’s rush of words ceased. He fell quiet, until eventually he said urgently, as if he wanted desperately for Ava to believe him, “I never thought it would blow up like it did but I couldn’t stop. I needed to keep everybody safe.”

“You didn’t keep Olivia safe.”

She didn’t raise her voice but her words hit home regardless. The fire that had burned behind his eyes went out.

“No,” he echoed tonelessly. “No, it didn’t. But the toll needed to be paid. There was no other way.”

“Hadn’t you meddled with the Vaults to begin with, there would have been no need.” 

“Why don’t you understand? I needed to know!”

He had moved forward, extending his hand toward Ava, who recoiled from him. 

“There are more important things than what we want, Jamie.”

“Is there?” His eyes were flashing angrily. “As if you didn’t meddle. You followed all the clues, just like I did, and —“

“To find you, to save you! Because I thought you were my brother!”

“I am your brother, Ava,” Jamie said. His gaze had an intensity to them that would have made Ava shiver if not for the sheer force of her own will. “Believe what you will, but we’re alike, you and I. I will always be your brother…”

Ava closed her eyes, not wanting him to say the words.

“… for as long as there are stars above.”

She took a shuddering breath, making herself look the boy - the man - who had once been the centre of her world and was now a stranger in the eye. Her voice was icy as she spoke.

“You are no brother of mine.” 

1988

As if to mock their grief, the sun shone down brilliantly and bright on the graveyard and the small group of mourners clad in black. 

Not many people had come. It was mainly family who had gathered, some distant relatives and the odd person from the village but Ava was fine with it. Not like there were many people left to mourn her brother’s death. 

The service in the cool shadows of St Andrew’s passed her by. Then they went outside, where the vicar continued droning on next to the hole in the ground that would soon harbour Jaime’s dead body. Ava kept her eyes fixed on it, as much to keep herself from snapping at the old man in front of her as to not look at the coffin waiting to be buried in the earth. 

When the draw of the polished oakwood became too overwhelming she shifted, letting her eyes wander over the assembled mourners. Her relatives were there, Carolyn Pendleton with Ava’s aunts and uncles. Their - her - cousin Mina had tried taking her hand during the service earlier, but Ava had drawn away from her sympathy and pity.

Behind her, Ava’s parents were standing arm in arm, looking aged beyond their years. There was an almost physical tension extending from them towards her, burning with the need to hold her, hold onto their only remaining child, but Ava remained at a distance, just far enough to not seem strange and still be out of reach. She couldn’t bear to be touched; not by anyone, but especially not by them. 

Not when it was her fault.

Everything was her fault. 

Her uncles stepped forward to help lower the coffin into the ground as the mourners sang a solemn song, and Ava closed her eyes not to watch her brother’s remains disappear. Pictures flashed before her inner eye, of a dark, dark forest looming around her, and her brother’s voice telling her not to go there alone. She had thought she was clever enough, as clever as him, that she could handle finding the last Vault by herself, that she could handle the Vaults by herself.

She had been so wrong.

Rakepick had found her in a clearing, had stepped from the shadows as if she’d been a part of the darkness pervading the trees. She had drawn her wand and pointed it at Ava, eyes hard and gleaming. She had told her something about a curse, a blood toll that needed to be paid. That was what had been agreed; that was what needed to be honoured.

She had said more but Ava hadn’t understood a word. All she had seen was the glowing tip of Rakepick’s wand, aiming for her heart. 

She hadn’t even known Jamie was there. She never heard his footsteps, or him shouting her name when he suddenly appeared, flinging himself between her and the curse, crumbling to the ground like a broken ragdoll. 

Ava and Rakepick stared at each other, then at Jamie’s body lying on the ground. Hoarsely, Rakepick whispered, “The toll has to be paid, one way or another.”

Then, she disappeared. 

She left behind deafening silence, only broken by a shuddering gasp as Ava moved forward. The gasp turned into a scream as she collapsed onto her brother’s dead body, crying, cursing, wanting him to come back, begging him to, but he didn’t, he couldn’t, he would never, never again.

Night had fallen when Ava snuck from her room and back toward the graveyard. There were flowers everywhere, left by the mourners and others who had come after the service had concluded. Ava stood over the colourful sea of petals and ribbons decking the freshly upturned earth, thinking how obscene it was to celebrate Jamie’s death in a way that his life never had been. 

She sat down before the tombstone, drew her knees up to her chest and hugged them tightly. She stared at the letters etched into the stone without really seeing them, just looking, before finally - finally - the tears were starting to fall. 

1999

The night was dark and drenched in rain. It fell from protruding roofs and hanging branches, cloaking the small village and its graveyard in a shroud of rainfall. Many fresh graves had been dug here lately but the one Ava was drawn to was older. She walked past the rows of crosses and stone angels like in a dream, her feet taking her on familiar paths, past memories of different times, a different life.

Orville, Gregory, parish constable. 

Weaver, Penelope, seamstress.

Franklin, Edmond, unfortunate cheesemonger.

Then, Miller, Adelaide. 

She stood, swallowing hard.

Campbell, Jamie. 

It had been years since she’d been here. She stared at the grave in silence, barely recognising the plants and candles that had been set into the pitch-black earth. The cold wind coming from the East hit her bare neck, making the pendant resting against her skin feel like a lump of ice. Shivering, Ava wished for something to keep herself warm but there was nothing that would help. She covered the big red scar spanning her abdomen; she hadn’t felt warm in weeks. 

“Things have changed,” she told Jamie’s gravestone. Her words rang through the silence of the graveyard, dropping to the ground with the rain still falling around her, heavy and cold. “I understand what you did now, and I’m sorry. For everything.” 

She was met with silence. Ava closed her eyes, conjuring the memory of this same graveyard filled with hers and Jamie’s laughter. The pang of longing that hit her was so sharp that it almost made her gasp. 

“I’m going to leave,” she continued quietly. “I have found a way to end it, once and for all. I have to, you know that. You always knew. It has to end. But I’m not sure if I’ll come back.” She paused. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to.”

Reaching out, Ava touched the tombstone, fingers barely grazing its surface. Tears were burning in her chest but there weren’t any left to shed.

“I’m sorry, brother,” she whispered, words picked up and scattered into nothingness by the wind. “I’ll always remember you… as long as there are stars above.” 

She took out her wand, her spell barely more than a breath. Then she turned and walked away without looking back, leaving behind a single amaryllis flower bowing its head to the rain falling from an ink-black, starless sky. 

#hphm #hogwarts mystery #ava campbell #jamie campbell #ava is coming from the shadows and I'm (not only lowkey) loving it #hp12mom #twelve months of magic

[dragonmuse]

TheARTBoss made my day by realizing the pillow Pete was gifted on his 41st birthday was the one that he bemoans not having in Sing a New Song (then discovers Lucius remembered it).  I offered them a prompt and they asked for a time when Izzy and Stede have to  kiss (mainverse).  Also honestly I’m bumming myself out writing chapter 4 of Hymn, so weeee here we go.) 

“Heya!” Lucius leaned out the window. “That’ll be five dollars, hot stuff.” 

“I can kiss you for free whenever I want,” Izzy pointed out, even though he was already reaching for his wallet.

“Sure, but this is kind of like roleplay if you think about it,” Lucius grinned. “I can be the Sandy to your Danny.” 

“Great, just what I always wanted,” Izzy rolled his eyes and passed him the five. The buzz of Bonnet’s inane summer festival was growing louder. “How much have you made so far?” 

“Why? Jealous?” Lucius puckered his lips. “Get yours before you blow the moment.” 

Izzy kissed him perfunctorily. They were in public, after all. 

“Let down,” Lucius pouted. “Come around the back here and give me a real one, huh?” 

With the flimsy barrier of brightly painted plywood, Izzy did feel more comfortable and let Lucius give him a kiss that was definitely his money’s worth and more. 

“Mmm, that’s much better,” Lucius drew away slowly. “Thanks, goblin.” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Hey, could you do me a solid and watch the booth for a few minutes? I’ve got to go to the bathroom.” 

“Absolutely n-” 

“Great! Thanks, love you,” Lucius gave him another peck and then sped off. 

Izzy stepped up to the little window, already prepared to shoot anyone who so much as tried to pay him. Then he looked down and the flyer for the children’s cancer ward they were apparently raising money for looked back. Goddamnit. 

Luckily, he must’ve been a much less appealing prospect for potential kisses than Lucius and most people in the morning crowd skipped over the booth entirely. 

“I’m telling you, I saw him head for the bathroom. I asked him three times not to leave the booth empty. I swear he never listens to me.” Bonnet’s prattle reached Izzy before the vision of him did. He was dressed casually for him, probably readying for transformation into Leda.  

Eddy was beside him, her very short shorts were low-rise, her shirt a tube top. Izzy resigned himself to looking her solely in the eye and hoping to fuck she didn’t notice. She would, inevitably. And of course, they spotted him immediately, one of their top tier ‘oiooooooh interesting’ looks crawling over their face. 

“Iz,” they breathed out, eyes dancing. “Now how’d you get stuck here?” 

“Luc had to use the bathroom,” he crossed his arms over his chest. “Fuck off.” 

“Now now,” Bonnet was clearly also delighted. Fuck his entire life. “That’s no way to get kisses. Don’t you want to raise money for the children?” 

“What? Like you two are going to pony up?” Izzy rolled his eyes. “You don’t have the fucking balls and Eddy already gave it a permanent hard pass.” 

“Hey, the kisses weren’t the issue,” Eddy was holding back a laugh so hard that it was making her quiver a little. 

“What was the issue?” Bonnet asked and Izzy exhaled messily, trying to resist the urge to grab the man by his overpriced t-shirt and introduce his nose to Izzy’s knee. Repeatedly. 

“Uh, I please the fifth?” Eddy floated. “Anyway. It wasn’t the kisses. In fact-” 

“Fuck, please no,” Izzy groaned. “Don’t, you goddamn asshole.” 

Eddy fishes a twenty out of her crop top and flatted it onto the wood in front of him. 

“Fine,” he gritted out, “let me get your change.” 

He ducked down under the wood and considered staying down there. Childish? Yes. But if it would prevent him from the complete humiliation of having to kiss Eddy, he’d do it. 

“Having trouble?” Bonne asked lightly. “Five from twenty is fifteen. That’s five-” 

“Shut. Up.” Izzy slapped down three fives from the cash box, standing back up. “Let’s get this over with.” 

He looked expectantly at Eddy.  So did Bonnet. They grinned wider. 

“No,” he pointed at her, “Fuck. Off.” 

“I paid for you, my love!” Eddy plunged on regardless. “Go on! Enjoy!” 

“Honey,” Bonnet protested as Izzy whined, “Eddy, no.” 

“Well, if you don’t want the five dollars for the kids,” Eddy pouted, reaching for the cash. 

“There is no way you’re taking that back!” Bonnet protested. “Stop that right now.” 

“But I didn’t get what I paid for.” 

“Oh for the love of- you’re ridiculous, my love,” Bonnet huffed and then to Izzy’s unspeakable dismay, he rounded on Izzy. “You better have brushed your teeth today.” 

“Excu-”  

Bonnet’s lips were very soft. That was all that registered initially. That and a hand cupping his cheek, warm and tender as anything. The kiss lasted maybe three seconds or many three years. Out of pure reflex, Izzy had kissed back and they parted with a slightly damp ‘smack’ sound. 

There was applause. Eddy and the suddenly returned Lucius were giving a standing ovation. 

Izzy reached for the change he’d put out for Eddy and snatched it back. 

“Hey!” Eddy protested. 

“Emotional damages,” Izzy spat and tossed it into the cashbox. 

“No fair charging for service unrendered,” Eddy crossed her arms over her chest. Her biceps flexed. 

Izzy was truly being tested by some malignant entity. 

“You’re welcome to come and get it -” 

And then he was getting kissed again. It was a miracle he hadn’t punched anyone. 

Eddy’s kiss was different without the beard, he thought inanely. It was softer and certainly kinder that any she’d bestowed on him before. Unlike Bonnet, she kept her hands to herself. She parted with a sparkling grin, dancing back a few steps far out of his range. 

“Yeah, I think we got our money’s worth. C’mon, my love, got to get ready.” 

“Right,” Bonnet was staring at Izzy inscrutably. 

“Stede?” 

“Yes! Coming.” 

The two of them left in a hurry, leaving Izzy to blink after them. 

“Uh, did Izzy.exe suffer a fatal error?” Lucius asked, amused. “Do you need me to give you a hard restart?” 

“If that means knocking me unconscious, I’d fucking appreciate it.” 

“Aw,” Lucius came back around and swung an arm over his shoulders and bringing him in. “Were they mean to you? Want me to go rough ‘em up for you?” 

“No,” he gritted out. “It’s. Fine.” 

“Oh...oh!” Lucius got very serious. “I mean, if you want, I can help you take care of that too. It’s the kind of festival where no one would care if I did it in the middle of the street, but we do have this nice  bit of plywood...” 

“Luc.” 

“Yes?” 

“You’re not...upset?” 

“Uh, little bit, actually,” Lucius allowed, pressing a kiss to his temple. “But it’d be pretty awful of me to expect you to have no reaction. And it wasn’t like you went running after it. I do kind of want to blow you though, mostly to make a point which is a bad reason to have sex.”

“They paid for four and only took two,” Izzy considered. 

“So they did,” Lucius said slowly. “So?” 

“So,” Izzy turned to him and tilted his head up. “I think ten gets to use teeth.” 

It wasn’t quite enough to erase the singularly shivery feeling of being kissed by Stede Fucking Bonnet or to wipe away the jolt of electricity Eddy had shot through him, but it was enough that as the day wore on, he just had to press his finger into the spectacular forming bruise and be grounded back to what matter. 

#leda house and the kraken verse #ficlet #eddy teach bonnet #stede teach-bonnet #lucius black #izzy hands

[owlixx]

CoD Notes: BO1 Finished

I had been worried that Black Ops 1 would unfairly feel like a step backwards for me since I decided to do MW1/2/3 back to back and MW3 came out a year later. This was not the case. Black Ops feels like such a revelation to the franchise. The story isn’t high art, but it feels so much more involved than anything else in the franchise up to this point. The voice cast is far more stacked than ever before. Alex Mason as a protagonist is far more interesting than any previous protagonist. I think his largest competition is Soap, who only gets to be more than silent player avatar in MW2/3 and even then isn’t as interesting as Mason.

I mean, this one game has so many more memorable characters than any other Call of Duty. Ed Harris’s Hudson, Ice Cube’s Bowman, Gary Oldman’s Reznov, Woods all stand out but even Weaver, Dragovich, Steiner, that one scientist guy in Kowloon, are all so much more vivid than the tryhard wannabe NPC’s of something like Ghosts (oops, I beat many games in a row without taking notes).

The plot twist alone elevates this game from “stupid annual release” to video game hall of fame. I’d argue that video games are the best medium for plot twists. It’s no Bioshock, but the Reznov twist is so fun and so well executed. I remember it blowing my mind as a kid and it was a ton of fun to see all the little hints as I went through this time. But I’ve already talked about the game at large twice. Let’s get into the last few missions.

Crashed plane assault mission was fine. I noticed the radio shout out a “Sergeant Blundell” which I recognized as Jason Blundell, the main Black Ops guy, this time. Also very funny and on the nose to have a section set to Sympathy for the Devil.

Snowy mountain assault was just okay. The top-down tactical part was clearly a stepping stone to the Strike Team missions of Black Ops 2. Didn’t love that section. But it was kind of funny to get to play as Hudson. This series seems to have some sort of quota to meet on having multiple playable characters. I did struggle really hard on one checkpoint in this level.

Then is the Vietnam mission where you get to fly a helicopter. I remember liking that part as a kid and it’s fine now. I’ll admit that these ‘Nam levels blend together for me.

But then we’ve got the Rebirth Island assault where you sneak around as Mason and do a gas-mask armored strike as Hudson. It’s pretty cool to get to see the same moment from two perspectives, a rare good use for having multiple playable characters. I will admit that Hudson’s breakable gas mask ended my life many times though.

Then the big plot twist as a cutscene mission, which is very fun.

Then finally the big boat assault and underwater base. Nothing too special gameplay wise, but generally a nice capper on the game.

And I love the implication that Mason killed JFK. I mean, it’s a very strong implication, but I suppose they never outright confirm it was him who pulled the trigger. I half expected the final scene of zooming in on Mason photoshopped into the background of a JFK pic to turn into a “JFK assassination simulator” for a second, but instead it transitions directly into the opening cutscene for Five, which is such a treat.

I did manage to get to round, like, 9, I wanna say, on Five. Sadly died right I before I could PaP because I forgot how the weapon thief mechanic worked and ended up double buying a gun. The voice lines in this map are even funnier to me as an adult who has more context on this era.

Overall, I think this game is peak CoD as far as campaigns go. First, set out to tell a story that would work even outside of this series, then drench it in a particular era and add a bunch of fun weapons and setpieces.

In the rankings so far, I think this is going at the top.

#call of duty #CoD #black ops 1 #black ops #bo1

[rainsmediaradio]

Eminem - Lose Yourself Lyrics

Eminem - Lose Yourself Lyrics Intro Look, if you had one shot or one opportunity To seize everything you ever wanted in one moment Would you capture it, or just let it slip? Yo Verse 1 His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out He's choking, how? Everybody's joking now The clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow Snap back to reality, ope there goes gravity, ope There goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad but he won't Give up that easy, no, he won't have it, he knows His whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter, he's dope He knows that but he's broke, he's so stagnant, he knows When he goes back to this mobile home, that's when it's Back to the lab again, yo, this old rhapsody Better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him, and Chorus You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better… Verse 2 His soul's escaping through this hole that is gaping This world is mine for the taking, make me king As we move toward a new world order A normal life is boring, but superstardom's Close to post-mortem, it only grows harder Homie grows hotter, he blows, it's all over These hoes is all on him, coast-to-coast shows He's known as the Globetrotter, lonely roads God only knows, he's grown farther from home, he's no father He goes home and barely knows his own daughter But hold your nose, 'cause here goes the cold water These hoes don't want him no more, he's cold product They moved on to the next schmoe who flows He nose-dove and sold nada, and so the soap opera Is told, it unfolds, I suppose it's old, partner But the beat goes on, da-da-dom, da-dom, dah-dah, dah-dah Chorus You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better… Verse 3 No more games, I'ma change what you call rage Tear this motherfuckin' roof off like two dogs caged I was playin' in the beginning, the mood all changed I've been chewed up and spit out and booed off stage But I kept rhymin' and stepped right in the next cypher Best believe somebody's payin' the Pied Piper All the pain inside amplified by the Fact that I can't get by with my nine-to- Five and I can't provide the right type of life for my family 'Cause man, these goddamn food stamps don't buy diapers And there's no movie, there's no Mekhi Phifer, this is my life And these times are so hard, and it's gettin' even harder Tryna feed and water my seed, plus teeter-totter Caught up between bein' a father and a prima donna Baby mama drama, screamin' on her, too much for me to wanna Stay in one spot, another day of monotony's Gotten me to the point I'm like a snail, I've got To formulate a plot or end up in jail or shot Success is my only motherfuckin' option, failure's not Mom, I love you, but this trailer's got To go, I cannot grow old in Salem's Lot So here I go, it's my shot, feet, fail me not This may be the only opportunity that I got Chorus You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better lose yourself in the music The moment, you own it, you better never let it go (Go) You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow This opportunity comes once in a lifetime, yo You better… Outro You can do anything you set your mind to, man Read the full article

#Eminem

[iwadori]

Oh my God, I just saw your angst iwa fic with the pregnant reader and then looked for more fics on your blog and I fell in love with it???❤❤ + ayeee another demon slayer lover here 😭can I maybe be an emoji anon?:"D I would love to chat with you but a little bit to shy

And I hope its also okay if I request something: Can you maybe do Tendou and Iwaizumi making the reader insecure? ( maybe where the reader gets jealous/ insecure because some fangirls are flirting with them and they say something like "maybe you are to insecure/jealoue" and they are scared that they will leave them?)

Hope you have a great day <3

When they make you insecure PT 4/ Dating your brothers teammate PT3

When they make you insecure:

Part One  Part Two  Part Three  Part Four Part Five Part six

Dating your brothers teammate:

Part One Part Two Part Three

Word Count: 2.1K

Genre: angst,fluff

masterlist

Authors Note: Thank you so much for liking my other works, and OF COURSE you can message me/be a continous anonymous ask. BTW if anybody wants to privately message me just to talk or whatever or ask me questions on my asks they can!! And IK this wasn’t technically what you asked for but I hope this is good enough <3 (I will most likely do Iwaizumi in the next part) by the way this is NOT proofread (so expect mistakes)

Tendou

You and tendou have been talking since you were in your first year and his second.

So you weren’t officially dating.

He was interested in what the second ushijima would be like.

You were just like your brother, sharp and stoic but great in everything you do and it seemed that Tendou took a liking to that.

You entered your brother's dorm room in the hopes of finding Tendou, but unluckily it was just Ushijima reading his magazines. “He’s not in here,” he said before you could even ask about your crush's whereabouts.  

As you were about to leave the room, Ushijima asked you to sit down for a moment so he could to you “yess toshi?” you said already bored.

“Are you and Tendou dating?” he asked

“Umm I-” You didn’t really know what to say, since you and Tendou haven’t officially put a label on things (as much as you wanted him too.) “Not really dating per se, just going through the motions...i guess” you said with uncertainty.

“Going through the motions?” Ushijima questioned more to himself then to you.  

“Don’t worry about it Toshi” you say ruffling his hair

“I’m just checking to make sure you’re okay Y/N” he said seriously “Oh and by the way when you and Tendou are about to have se-”

“La La La La La” you say putting your fingers in your ears “I do not need a sex-ed lesson from you nii-san" you swiftly leave the room a tad bit grossed out.

“Oh and by the way Tendou is probably in Eita’s and Kenjirou’s room.” he calls.

You excitedly skip over to Semi’s and Shirabu’s room happy to see your boyfriend ‘friend.’ Walking to the door, before you open it, you hear Tendou talking to Semi and Shirabu and the conversation topic seems to be about you.  

“How are things going with Y/N Tendou” Semi asked “You’re practically dating now. Right?”

“Well Semi-sem, I wouldn’t say that...” Tendou said, making you furry your eyebrows in confusion. “Y/N is a bit, you know... what’s the right word” he thinks, “Boring.”

You step back abit from the door, shocked. ‘Boring?’ How were you boring... You were hurt. Especially since you’ve heard the insult of you being boring your whole life, you knew that you took after your brother in most aspects but that didn’t make neither you or your brother boring. You’ve even have voiced that specific insecurity (about you being boring) where Tendou always assured you that you were the most interesting person he’s ever met.

You went back into Ushijima’s room since it was the closest place and you knew you could always go to your brother whenever you were upset or just in need of someone to listen to you rant about anything. Upon your entering, Ushijima looks up at you and before he could ask what was wrong you wrapped your arms around him and just burst out crying. Awkwardly, Ushijima pats your back not really knowing what to do. He waits for you to calm down before asking you “What’s wrong Y/N?”

“h-he called me boring...” you cried again slightly, “I heard him talking with Semi and Shirabu”

“Well I don’t think you a boring, not at all Y/N” he said handing you a tissue so that you can wipe your eyes and blow your nose “Do you need me to talk with him?”

“No!” You exclaimed “Don’t talk to him...I’ll handle it.” You knew that him and Tendou talking wouldn’t turn out right, because you weren’t even dating in the first place and Ushijima would definitely deep the situation more then needs be.  

“Ushiwaka I brought some snacks for us” said a cheerful sounding Tendou entering the room. His voice faltered when he saw a teary eyed you wrapped up in her brothers arm. “Y/N-chan are you alright?”  

“Yeah I’m fine” you respond dryly “Well I’ll be going...thanks Toshi”  

You leave the room not looking Tendou in the eye leaving him confused. He thought you would be happy to see him, although he knew you weren’t officially ‘together’ or whatever so he didn’t get why you seemed mad.

“Hey Ushiwaka, what’s wrong with Y/N” he asked  

“She said I am not allowed to discuss it with you.” Ushijima replied flipping through his magazine

‘So there is a problem..’ Tendou thought trying to think of things that could spur up your problem with him.

When you were heading to your room, you bumped into Semi and Shirabu who seemed to be heading towards your brother. “Hey Y/N” they greeted simultaneously

“hi guys..” you said sniffling  

They could see that you were sad and didn’t want to pry, so in an attempt to make you feel better Semi said “One of our friends, I think someone from Karasuno is having a party do you wanna come with us.” Just then, a lightbulb went off in your head and you thought of the best idea to really show Tendou you aren’t boring and you can also make your ‘boy’ friend jealous at the same time.

You immediately perk up and smile at the boys surprising them, “Sure, I'd love to go pick me up at 8?” you ask making them nod as you rush back to your dorm room to find something to wear.  

After basically emptying your wardrobe, you find something to wear (a little black dress to be precise) you couldn’t deny that you were hot in general but right now in this dress there was no dispute about how beautiful you are.

Semi knocks on your door right at 8pm, his eyes widening seeing how you look. You gave him a knowing smirk making the tips of his ears go red, “should we be going now...?” you ask as he was stood there frozen staring at you,

“Uhm yeah sure” he said awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck feeling a little bit embarrassed.

Entering the party, a lot of eyes were on both you and Semi in jealousy and in want. You were both the most attractive ‘couple’ in the room and it was obvious that you both knew that. Tendou was already there sitting in the corner of the room with the rest of the Shiratorizawa boys, he had of bit of anger brewing in the pit of his stomach at the sight of you on Semi’s arm.

“Semi! My twin, welcome to the party!” Yelled a boy who looked kind of like Semi, making Semi roll his eyes

“Hi, I’m Sugawara but you can just call me suga” he says to you extending his hand “and you are...”

“Oh Hi! I’m Ushijima Y/N” you replied back giving his hand a shake

“I see, Ushiwaka’s little sister...cute” he says smiling in your face “Well I’ve got to now and make sure certain teammates of mine aren’t blowing up my house or anything so talk to you soon”

“You do kind of look the same Semi” you say to him teasingly

“Oh, shut up Y/N” he says jokingly making you laugh pretty loudly putting your arm on his bicep (forearm I don’t know the body part lol.) You look over to Tendou and you could tell he was getting bothered by your interaction with Semi making it even more enjoyable to you.

“Semi, do you wanna dance?” you ask batting your eyelashes at him, throwing him off. “Um okay.”

You were being a bit wild with your movements whilst dancing with Semi (since you’re obviously not the usual party-goer) but you were enjoying yourself nevertheless.  

“Are you okay Y/N?” Semi asks you  

“Yeah why wouldn’t I be” you respond

“Um...it’s just that you’ve been a bit weird tonight and I’ve seen the staring matches you and Tendou have been having” he says “Is everything alright with both of you?”

He leads you over to somewhere more private so that you could properly talk, “So what's been going on with the two of you.”

“You should know more than me Semi” you sigh “You were there when he called me boring”

“I don’t think he meant it th-” he starts  

“I don’t care what he meant to be honest, I just wanted to prove to him more so prove to myself that I’m not boring. Cause I don’t think I am.” you say

“You’re not Y/N” he says looking at you “Of course you aren’t.”

“I guess so... it doesn’t even matter I shouldn’t even be so upset, since me and Tendou aren’t actually dating.” you mumbled looking away

“Tendou really likes you Y/N” he says turning your body so you’re so looking at him “He talks about you all the time, since he thinks you’re amazing.”

You’re now staring into each other's eyes “And that’s because you are amazing Y/N” his words make you smile and look down slightly. Maybe it was just because you were both in the heat of the moment, but Semi lips up your chin so you’re both directly in front of each other and you then subconsciously lean into his face closing your eyes (with him doing the same.) And just as your lips were about to touch you hear a,

“What the fuck is happening here!” you look to your left and see both Tendou and Ushijima. With Tendou having his mouth agape and Ushijima having his usual monotone expression on. Tendou rushes over to you and grips your arm pulling your arm up, making you wince slightly and him lessening his grip on you. He pulls you into the bathroom and sits you down on the toilet (the lid is closed) and he leans against the sink.

“What’s your problem with me Y/N” he says sounding pretty fed up.

“Nothing...I don’t see why you care … It’s not like we’re dating or anything” you say mumbling the last part.

“Oh so that’s your problem!” he exclaims, kind of happy that he cracked the code on why you were mad at him.

“No my problem is that you think Im boring” you whine  

“Boring... I don’t think I ever sai-” he pauses realizing what you were referring too “Oh you heard me when I was with Semi-sem and Shirapoo... we thought we heard someone outside”

You sat there with a bored expression on your face waiting for an explanation, “I never said you were boring, well I did. But I assume you miss what I really said was ‘Boring. No that’s also the wrong word too she’s blunt it’s like I’m talking to a girl version of Ushijima sometimes it’s spooky.... but besides that, I really like her’ that’s what I said”

Oh, ‘I guess that makes sense,’ you think... because you were shocked that Tendou would call you boring in the first place so it makes more sense that he didn’t even fully mean that and you just didn’t hear the full thing.

“Oh” you say, looking down feeling a bit embarrassed  

"I really like you Y/N... and I know you’ve been waiting on me to ask you to be my girlfriend and I’m sorry for not doing it sooner, I just didn’t think we needed a label since we both knew what we were” he says kneeling down to be at your eye level “But obviously when I saw you dancing and flirting with Semi I realised what I gotta do... so Y/N Ushijima my ‘miracle girl’ will you be my girlfriend”  

“Of course,” you say giving him a hug  

“Oh, and Y/N...” he starts “were you really about to kiss semi” he asks in a jokey way “you would’ve been left with a permanent scowl left on your face” making you laugh.

After spending quite some time in the bathroom with Tendou, you finally leave and see Ushijima just standing outside patiently waiting.  

“Umm Toshi-nii what are you doing?” you ask  

“Just making sure you’re okay Y/N.” he says looking at both you and Tendou and then your hands that are holding each other's “Ahh I see you two are now boyfriend and girlfriend”

“Yes indeed we are Ushiwaka, I finally asked her!” Tendou replied

“Oh that’s good.” Ushijima nods at both at you as you start walking off to return to the party “Also Tendou, when you and Y/N have se-”

“Gosh Toshi, stop with the sex talk” you say putting your hands on your ears making Tendou laugh.

You and Tendou have so much fun in your relationship, always enjoying the time you spend together. There were no big problems with you two, besides minor arguments but if there ever was a problem you could always go to your big brother who had the best advice to give whether it was on relationships, plants or sex.

#haikyuu x reader comfort #haikyu angst #haikyu x reader #haikyu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyu #haikyu headcanons #tendou headcanon #tendou scenario #tendou satori #tendou x reader #tendo x y/n #tendou angst #tendou x you #signedwithane😌

[mypoisonedvine]

The Summer Before College | Marcus Moreno x reader

summary: just because you got some good scholarships doesn't mean you couldn’t use some extra cash.  luckily, babysitting for a family friend has been a steady side gig for you.  rule number one of babysitting: don't let your wandering eye rest for too long on the hot single dad.  

word count: 4.7k

warnings: smut (dub con elements? but she’s into it lol don’t worry), age gap (he’s 40-something, reader’s 18/19), loss of virginity, pussy spanking (like, once), lots of petnames and ‘good girl’s, not a dark fic but kinda pushing it, not explicitly dad's best friend trope but it has that energy and I've decided that he is in fact friends with the reader's dad

a/n: this has basically nothing to do with the movie.  he’s just a hot dad.  don’t overthink it.

You knew the walk to the Moreno's by now: down two blocks from your house, take a right at San Vicente, a left on Birch, a few houses down and you're there.  With your full backpack weighing on your shoulders it felt longer than usual, but you made it anyways and knocked on the front door. 

"It's open!" a voice called from inside, and you turned the knob and swung the door open.

You almost regretted wearing your tiniest jean shorts, from the way Mr. Moreno did a double take when you walked in.  But hey, it was the middle of summer and he would never look at you like that— you were just his daughter's babysitter, ever since you were sixteen; he was probably just surprised to see that you were wearing something other than your school uniform.  Maybe some part of you wished he would look at you like that… 

Missy called your name, tearing you from your thoughts, jumping up when she saw you and beaming as she rushed to give you a hug.  "Hey!" you greeted in return.  

“Thanks again for doing this,” Mr. Moreno nodded in your general direction, apparently already dressed for whatever it was he had to do, slipping on his jacket from where it hung on a hook by the door.  "She's already had dinner, so just homework and bedtime," he explained to you as you nodded dutifully.

"Bedtime?  Dad, I'm not a little kid anymore," Missy rolled her eyes.

"Okay, you're a big kid and you need to be asleep by 10.  It's a school night."

She huffed but didn't protest, and you joined her on the couch because she wanted to show you some drawings she’d done earlier that day.  "Bye, Dad!" Missy waved when he left, and he turned back quickly to blow a kiss in her direction.

Once you helped her finish her homework (frankly, you didn't have to do that much— she's a smart kid), the two of you enjoyed some video games before you finally got her to start getting ready for bed.

It was cute how confident Missy was that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep, only for her to be snoring within five minutes of her head hitting the pillow.  You were envious of how easily she could sleep; you could kill an hour just tossing and turning and readjusting your blanket.  But that wasn’t going to be your problem tonight: you weren’t going to sleep yet, until the man of the house returned, meaning all you had to do was wait.

Even in summer, having already graduated, you had plenty of work to do while you waited for Mr. Moreno.  Knowing what classes you had in the fall, you bought your textbooks a bit early and planned on reading them all before the semester began.  You’d already gotten through Philosophy Through the Ages and now you continued from where you left off in the middle of Introductory Physics.  

What surprised you was that you had time to finish that one, too.  You had anticipated that Mr. Moreno would be back before you made it to the module on fluid dynamics, but you reached the index at a quarter past midnight and he was still gone.  You shrugged and picked up the next one— A Book of Luminous Things: An International Anthology of Poetry— hoping he was alright and that he’d be back soon.

You had to make yourself some coffee when 1 a.m. rolled around; tired, anxious, and distracted, you realized this was probably not the best state to be attempting to study in, but you didn’t feel like you had a choice.  You didn’t want to fall asleep here, you’d promised to watch Missy and you couldn’t exactly do that while asleep… plus, he would probably be back any minute now.  Sure, you’d been saying that to yourself for nearly an hour and a half now, but it was more true than ever.

It was another hour and a half, though, until his car pulled into the driveway and he pushed through the front door, prompting you to set aside your textbook.

“Good evening,” you greeted, standing up.  He looked a little disheveled— but it worked for him, with that curly hair all messed up in just the right way.  Maybe it was just that it was late or that it was the rare time you saw him without Missy around, but there was a darkness about him now, not sinister so much as just purely intimidating.  It was like you hadn’t really taken him seriously before, and now you were appreciating that you should have.

“She’s asleep?” he assumed, glancing over to the hallway which his daughter’s bedroom was positioned at the end of before slipping his jacket off and hanging it by the door.

“It’s half past two, so… I really hope so,” you chuckled.

“Shit, is it that late already?” he groaned, glancing at his watch.

“Did you not notice?”

“I.. got carried away.”

You didn’t want to know what he’d been out so late for.  It was none of your business, and you figured you were better off without any secrets to keep— you’d never been so good at keeping secrets, even your own.

“Been studying this whole time?” he noticed as he glanced at the textbooks on the couch, grinning a little.  It sort of felt like he was mocking you, and it made your cheeks warm as you nodded.  “What a good girl.”

That made a cold tingle crawl up your spine.  Sure, other students had called you that before, and plenty of your teachers, but when he said it, like that… it felt entirely new.  “I try,” you managed to respond eventually.

“You’ll do well in college, I bet.”

“You think so?” you beamed.

“Yeah,” he nodded confidently.  There was something comforting about the way he smiled at you; yet, there was something predatory about the way his eyes glanced down your body and back up slowly.

As you turned and bent over to pick up your textbooks off the couch, you could tell that he had stepped closer; you could just barely hear the soft noise of his footsteps on his carpet, just barely feel the warmth of him behind you, just barely pick up on the slow, thoughtful breath he took in and out through his nose.

Standing back up slowly, you felt him do it again, right against your neck.

“M-Mr. Moreno,” you stammered, shivering when his hands gripped you on either arm.  Not a tight grip, per se, but one that made his strength obvious.

“You don’t have to call me that,” he breathed.  “Not when we’re alone.”

Not that you really had any plan on how to respond to that, but if you had, it would've been forgotten as his lips brushed over your neck, leaving teasing kisses in a trail over your pulse.

"Wait—" you blurted out instinctively when his hands moved to your waist, cut off by your own shaky sigh and suppressed moan.  “What if she wakes up?” you questioned anxiously, glancing down the hallway and hoping you wouldn’t find Missy there, watching her dad feeling you up— and you letting him, not just that but enjoying it.  Of course, the hallway was deserted, but you couldn’t feel certain it would stay that way.

“She won’t,” he assured.  “Not if you can be a good girl and stay quiet.”

You made a little whimpering noise as you wondered if you could.  You didn’t know how, really; you were good at being quiet when you were alone, but being alone had never felt like this.  Forbidden, sexy, terrifyingly wonderful… nothing had ever felt like this.

“Do you want me to stop?” he purred, sounding like he already knew the answer.

“No,” you answered a little too quickly, “please… please don’t stop.”

“Yeah, I thought so,” he grinned.  “Tell me what you do want.”

“I want…” you sighed and started over again, willing yourself to speak your thoughts aloud even though they made a pit of guilt sink in your stomach.  "I want you to make me feel good."

You knew it was a sort of childish way of putting it, even before he laughed at your statement, but you weren't sure what else to say.  "Yeah?  I can do that," he decided.  "But I can make you feel good in so many ways…" he trailed off as his right hand slipped lower and lower, finally landing between your legs as you gasped.  Two fingers slid over the crotch of your shorts, and somehow he managed to bump against something that made electricity shoot up your spine and your hips buck into his touch of their own accord.  You felt his smile widen as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin of your neck.  "You'll have to be more specific," he finally finished.  "How do you want me to make you feel good?"

"Inside me," you whined, "I want you inside me."

There was a sudden shift as it seemed like the control he had over you suddenly did not extend to himself; he growled a bit and pulled you into him, and you could feel the hard shape of his cock, through his trousers and your shorts.  You could feel it pressed just above your ass and it made you squirm against his embrace.  "Feel what you do to me?" he grunted, and you nodded quickly.  "Good."

He spun you around quickly, pulling you close to him and burning right through you with those brown eyes darker than ever, but just as you thought he might kiss you, he spoke instead.

“My bedroom’s upstairs,” he informed you quietly.

You just nodded, following him as he pulled you along through the house, up the stairs and past the door to the master bedroom of the house.

Now that you hadn’t seen it coming, of course, was when he chose to grab you and kiss you suddenly.  It was rough and passionate and nothing like you could've imagined; you were certain you'd never been kissed like this, like he needed to kiss you more than he needed anything.  

Your arms slipped around his neck as he pushed you back against the wall, lifting your legs to wrap around his waist as he kicked the door shut behind the two of you.  Little moans were muffled by the kiss— and it took you a minute to realize they were yours.  You didn’t even sound like yourself; probably because you’d never felt like this before, and therefore had never had any reason to sound like this.

You could feel his cock between your legs, though unfortunately not in the way you wanted.  Still, it drove you wild to have him so close like this, to try to imagine how the thick shape you were feeling would ever fit inside you.

His hands were so strong and thick that you worried they’d stretch out your tank top just by reaching under it— well, that is you would have worried about that if you could think about anything else but his hands reaching under your tank top.  He didn’t even waste his time touching you over your bra, instead making quick work of the clasps with one hand before coming back to grope one breast in his palm, then the other.  Just that was enough to make you run your fingers into his hair, but a little pinch to your raised nipple made your fists tighten and pull— you didn’t mean to, and you were just about to feel bad about it until he growled a little.  It seemed like a growl of approval, considering he pinched your nipples harder to make you do it again.  

“Feels good?” he asked with annoying (yet arousing) confidence.

“S-so good,” you slurred, stumbling over your words as you tried to think as clearly as possible through the thick haze of pleasure clouding your mind. 

As he guided you to set your legs down and unhook your arms from around his neck, you felt a bit like a doll being posed; when he pulled your top over your head and your bra from your arms, you felt like a doll being undressed.  You sort of didn’t mind it; you were happy to let him take the lead, confident he knew at least 100% more about this than you did. 

He knelt down before you as he roughly pulled at your tight jean shorts, his knuckles nearly bruising your hips as he stripped you.  Your underwear were not the pair you would’ve worn if you had known somebody was going to see them, just a plain dark blue color that made you feel so drab as he came face-to-face with them.  He didn’t seem to mind much, grinning up at you as he slipped his fingers under them and pulled them down, too.  Your face was so hot and yet your legs were breaking out into goosebumps simultaneously, and a shiver rolled up your body when he growled at the sight of your body laid bare for him.  Before you could even process it, he stood up and grabbed you, tossing you back onto the bed and spreading your legs.

“Fuck, what a pretty little pussy,” he praised with a smile that made you feel a little light-headed, swirling a few fingers over your swollen button until pulling them back to spank you there— it wasn’t even that hard, but you yelped and jolted and he laughed darkly.  “So sensitive,” he purred, his words walking a fine line between a compliment and a taunt, “so wet.”

Another finger slipping down to your entrance proved him right, your arousal plentiful as his touch glided through your folds.  

Suddenly overcome with a moment of bravery, you sat up and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, making him smile down at you.  “Let me help you,” he offered as he worked the buttons instead, freeing you to try to open his belt.  “Look at you, acting so desperate…”

At this point, you weren’t even offended by that; you wanted him so bad that you didn’t have the energy to be embarrassed by it anymore.  

He slipped the shirt off of his shoulders just as you finished opening the belt.  He pushed your hands away, and now you could see the muscles in his arms flexing as he held you down by your wrists.  “You’re getting ahead of yourself, señorita,” he purred.

Why did feeling powerless to him turn you on so much?  There was no real fear to it— you knew and trusted him, you would never have developed your misguided crush on him if you didn’t— and yet there was a strong edge of uncertainty as he kissed your neck and moved down your chest, between your breasts before he stopped to kiss those, too.

“Oh god,” you breathed, and he smiled against your skin before sitting up and staring down at you.  It wasn’t apparent if it was distant streetlights or the moonlight shining in through the window, but either way it cast a cold blue light into the room that reflected as a glimmer in his eyes. 

“Not gonna make you wait any longer,” he promised in a low voice, reaching down to push his unbuttoned belt and trousers to his thighs— those thick, muscular thighs that made your lip catch between your teeth.

Your breath caught, too, but in your lungs this time as his cock was exposed: thick, swollen, veiny… it looked picturesque, if thoroughly intimidating.  You couldn’t figure out if you wanted to move towards it or sheepishly crawl away.

"Why do you look scared?" he asked, his voice so much deeper than you remembered it from before, even if there was genuine concern somewhere in his tone.

"Is it gonna hurt?" you asked instead of answering.

"Baby…" he sighed huskily, "are you a virgin?"

You bit your lip and looked away, irritated that you hadn't managed to hide your fear enough to keep your secret.  

He sighed, your silence apparently answer enough.  

"Do you not want to, anymore?" you asked anxiously, afraid you had completely killed the mood.  Part of the reason it'd taken you this long to lose it was specifically because people seemed intimidated by the idea of being your first.

"No, no, I— no," he asserted sternly.  "I just need to… change my approach, slightly.”

He leaned down a bit, hovering over you as he trailed his hand up your leg, rubbing the inside of your thigh before finally drawing circles over your aching clit with his thumb, causing you to shiver and moan quietly.

“And, to answer your question, it won’t hurt.  Not if I get you good and ready for me,” he explained, pushing just one finger into you— and even that small of a stimulation made your eyes flutter shut, with his fingers being so much thicker and stronger than yours.

The second made your fists clench around the satin-y sheets beneath you.  You didn’t dare open your eyes, knowing you’d find him staring down at you and you weren’t ready for that, weren’t ready to see his reaction to your body in such a vulnerable state.  You could hear his reaction, though, with the rough groans and satisfied sighs he let out as he pumped his fingers into you.

When three fingers filled you, your eyes shot open.  “Fuck!” you yelped.

He smiled but slowed down, apparently taking some pity on you— but not enough to stop him from pressing down harder on your clit.

Just when you figured he’d warmed you up enough and he’d fuck you like he promised, he slid lower and the bed and bent down, adding his tongue into the mix with his fingers.  It was… overwhelming, and hot, not just psychologically but literally: it was physically hot, as in temperature.  How was his mouth so warm against you, and his fingers so warm inside you?

When he latched his lips around your clit and sucked on it, you saw stars.  Energy gathered in your gut and burned so bright that you thought you might explode.  Really, it was more like an implosion as the coil inside you snapped and your thighs accidentally clamped down on his hand.  It didn’t faze him though, it didn’t even slow him down as he moaned a little against you and curled his fingers even harder.  You didn’t remember reaching down to grab his head, you just felt his hair between your fingers as you pulled it roughly, gasping his name.

When he did stop, sitting up and wiping his face with the back of his hand, you just looked back up at him as you caught your breath.  He laughed, and you realized you were gawking unintentionally.

“I’m guessing you’ve never come like that before?” he ventured.  You didn’t know if ‘like that’ meant from oral or just so suddenly and intensely, but it was true either way so you nodded.

When he reached down to grip his cock with the same hand still wet with your slick, you held your breath without realizing it.  “Please put it in me,” you whimpered.

“I will,” he assured as he guided the head of it through your slick folds, stopping to tease your clit as you jolted from the contact on the sensitive nerves.  Something surreal and indescribable tingled under your skin— you could hardly believe that this was happening, let alone with him, with Mr. Moreno.  Or, Marcus.  You were on a first-name basis by now, surely.

He pushed forward in one smooth, slow stroke until he was all the way inside you, his body filling yours to the brim as you quivered from the sensation of being stretched so wide.  

“Am I hurting you?” he asked roughly.

“...almost,” you answered hesitantly, unsure how to describe the sensations you were feeling; not exactly pain, but not not pain.  The favorite pain you’d ever felt in your life, easily.

He chuckled as he gripped your hips a little tighter.  "I'm gonna move now," he announced.  You nodded your approval, sighing shakily as he pulled his hips back and you felt the intoxicating friction of his cock against your walls.  

"Ffffuck," you whimpered, gasping when he slammed his hips forward again.  Your eyes rolled back in your head when he pushed as deep into you as he could with each thrust, still measured but not exactly gentle as he set a pace faster than you’d prepared for.  But it was good, god it was so fucking good you weren’t sure what to do with yourself.  "Marcus," you sighed, barely recognizing your own voice when it was heavy with need and arousal like this.

He grinned when he heard his name cross your lips, grinding his hips against yours for emphasis until you were forced to arch your back.  "You like it rough, don't ya, honey?"

You nodded, confident that you liked it however he was doing it.

"Fuck, I knew it.  Knew as soon as I saw you."

Before you could wonder what he meant by that, he was already moving fast enough to make your head spin.  You had never had anything so deep inside you before, and when he pushed your legs up and back against your chest, you had no choice but to scream with pleasure.

Just before you reached the peak of it though, his hand clamped down over your mouth to muffle the sound.  "Gotta be quiet," he reminded you through his teeth before relaxing his hand a bit so you could still be heard somewhat

"I can't," you whined, "Marcus, please, I can't stay quiet—"

"You have to."

"Feels too good," you whimpered your excuse.  "F-fuck, slow down, I won't be able to stop it—"

He cut you off with a kiss, slow yet dominating, and your moans were muffled by his lips.  You still sounded so loud in your own head, but at least your cries weren't echoing against the walls of his room anymore.

What was echoing were the sounds of skin slapping on skin as he pounded into you, roughly finding every delicate spot within you and making the backs of your thighs sore as his hips slammed into them.  It forced your hands to grip at his muscular shoulders and your nails to dig into the skin there.  You hoped there would be little half-moon shaped marks there tomorrow, maybe one would even scar so he'd have your mark on his body forever; after all, he'd carved a permanent space in your body by taking your virginity.  Even if you couldn't dream of being as special to him as he was to you, you liked the idea of giving him something that he couldn't give back.

That energy was building again, different from before but no less powerful and persistent.  "I'm gonna— fuck, I'm gonna come, I'm so close," you whispered.

“Yeah?  Go ahead," he encouraged.  "I wanna see you fall apart just for me, wanna feel you come around my cock."

You hadn't realized he'd be able to feel it, and the idea of that was so filthily beautiful that it pushed you over the edge, your whole body tensing up in sudden waves of pleasure so intense that it made your eyes water.

Through the static filling your ears, you heard his low, husky voice encouraging you: "Good girl, just like that, don't fucking stop."

You'd always been powerless to his voice, but this was another level.  It was as if your body understood and met his demands, continuing to ride the peak of your sensation so long as he growled in your ear just right.  

It was much too tender, the way he brushed the stray hair away from your face, the way he kissed your slack mouth again, the way he held you tighter and mumbled more praises to you.  It was more romantic than it had any right to be, and you had to bite back the words of affection threatening to spill out of your mouth.

I love you, you wanted to tell him, I've loved you for years, but it was beyond inappropriate.  You didn't want to play the role of the innocent virgin who thinks sex means being in love and lets herself catch feelings for the older man who is just taking what he wants and, at best, doing her a favor so she doesn't have to go off to college and get her cherry popped there.  Maybe that was accurate, but that wasn't who you wanted to be.  

You wanted to be sexy, and mature, and in control.  You wanted to play a new rule, one that still felt foreign and yet closer than ever.  So you wrapped your legs around his hips and held him deeper in you, smiling with a little growl of your own.

"I want you to come inside me," you informed him with a purr, loving the little moment of shock that passed over his face before he groaned, fucking you a little faster and more erratically.

"Fuck, really?" he rasped.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes and nodded.

"You're on the pill?"

Another nod, this one finished off with a shiver as you wondered how much more of this your body could take.

He grinned and picked up the pace again, his moans getting a little louder with each movement.  "Fuck, I'm gonna come— gonna fill up your tight little pussy, is that what you want?"

You nodded feverishly, already close to the edge again as you imagined what it would be like to have his come in you for the rest of the night.  Was he going to make you walk home with it leaking out from between your legs?  Why did that idea make your inner muscles involuntarily tighten around him?

With a string of curses and a grip on your thigh tight enough to bruise, he reached his own peak and you felt his cock flex and pulse inside you, a new warmth filling your gut from the inside out.  

It's hard to say how long the two of you stayed like that, since you were busy basking in the afterglow (and, less enjoyably, worrying about the consequences that tomorrow morning would bring).

When he pulled out and collapsed beside you, you wondered if you should get up and get dressed.

"Stay here tonight," he instructed you, as if somehow a response to your internal thought.  "Your folks won't freak out if you're out all night, right?"

"I'll just tell them I slept over at your place," you shrugged.  With a confused look from him, you clarified: "on the couch."

"Right," he nodded as he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you closer, letting you rest your head in the crook of his neck.  In this way and in so many others, it was how you expected (and hoped) losing your virginity would go: someone you trust and who cares about you, with enough attention on you that you didn't feel much pain, plus cuddling afterwards.  But, in even more ways, it was unlike what you'd ever thought possible: it felt incredible and you came so hard that your ears were still kind of ringing, you didn't use a condom or even think to mention it, and finally— and most absurdly— it was with Marcus fucking Moreno.

Frankly, considering his performance earlier, "fucking" very well could be his middle name.

"You should sit for me again next week," he suggested quietly.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

"No," he grinned, "but I'll be sure to come back real late, after she's gone to bed, so I can show you all the other ways I can make you feel good."

"H-how many ways are there?!"

He just laughed, pulling you closer and placing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.  “Oh, sweetheart… so smart, but so innocent.  We can fix that.”

You weren’t sure entirely which of those two things he intended on fixing.

#marcus moreno x reader #marcus moreno smut #marcus moreno x you #marcus moreno x y/n #pedro pascal x reader

[wondernimbus]

meet the weasleys — george weasley

pairing: george weasley x female!reader

summary: george takes reader to meet his family.

requests are closed for now. please refrain from plagiarizing my work!

"I’m nervous."

"Well, don't be."

"Thank you, George. That somehow just alleviated all of my worries."

George snickers and squeezes her hand in reassurance. “Just relax. My family doesn't bite—or, well, Ron used to, but that was back when he was, what, five? And besides, you already know him, and he's never bit you before, has he?"

"Not helping."

"And you've met most of my family already."

“I haven't met your mum. Or your dad. Or Bill and Charlie,” she argues, eyes worriedly darting from George’s own to the wooden door in front of them.

George laughs again. His eyes don’t fail to catch onto the way she’s frantically tapping her foot against the ground, how she keeps worrying at her bottom lip. The sight has him grinning widely; he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t horribly endeared.

“Listen,” he says, removing his fingers from her own in favor of turning her around to face him. George’s hands go to her neck, cradling the sides of her cheeks. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t—well, I can always find a different family.”

”George,” she sighs.

”Only joking,” he grins, and leans in to press a very brief kiss to the tip of her nose. “But I mean it. They’ll adore you. Possibly even more than I do, although that’s up for debate.”

She lets out a long breath, pursing her lips together in a feeble attempt at a smile, but George commends her for trying. He drops his hands back to his sides and laces his fingers through her own again, turning to face the door like they’re about to venture into some sort of grand adventure and not into his family’s living room—and George is about to twist open the knob, until [Y/N] goes, “Wait.”

He glances at her. Her eyes are wide and the look on her face still so uncertain. Sucking in a breath through her teeth, she asks him, “How do I look?”

The grin on George’s face is so impossibly wide. “Like a billion galleons,” he tells her. Just because he can’t resist the urge, he swoops down to press one more chaste kiss to her lips. And then finally, he twists the knob.

The moment George steps foot through the door, he’s immediately enveloped by the wafting scent of something being cooked on the stove. It smells familiar, like he should know what it is, but George has never been much of a chef. But he recognizes the sounds—the voices—coming from the kitchen despite all of them mingling together to form one raucous chorus of chatter. He knows exactly which voice belongs to who—knows that the loud shriek is his mum reprimanding one of them, knows that the sound of someone whining is very likely Ron. That laugh is Bill’s, too, mingled with Fred’s voice. George just knows, automatically, without even having to think about it. George knows, too, without looking down on the “welcome” mat in front of the door, that there are going to be muddy boots on top it—and there they are. He steps around them. George knows that there is going to be a quilt magically knitting itself together on the couch without even having to look at it—and there it is.

And just like that, he knows he’s home.

Something about having [Y/N] in the vicinity of a place so important to him—a place that’s part of him—has his heart feeling full. He pauses for a moment in the doorway, taking it all in, but he’s snapped out of his brief spell of inexplicable happiness when his father comes lumbering out of the door leading to the kitchen.

“George!” his dad exclaims loudly, and just like that all chatter from the room behind him ceases (“They’re here?!” he hears his mother panic). “We didn’t hear you come in!”

”Likely because mum was too busy screaming,” George grins, and walks forward to envelop his father in a hug.

”Ah, yes—Fred arrived half an hour ago and terrified Ron out of his wits with some sort of fake—no, actually, nevermind that! This must be [Y/N].”

Arthur’s eyes have landed on her, and George actually has to give her a little nudge for her to say something. Her eyes widen like she’s surprised at being addressed (as though the entire point of this gathering hadn’t been to get to introduce her), but then her lips break out into a smile and she steps forward to shake his father’s outstretched hand.

”It’s really nice to meet you,” she says, eyes crinkling at the edges. George stands to the side watching the scene unfold, feeling oddly proud.

”Yes, of course!” Arthur nods with remarkable enthusiasm, smiling just as wide. “I’ve heard so many wonderful things about you! You’re Muggle-born, correct?”

She lets out a tinkling laugh. “Yes, that’s right.”

”Brilliant!” he claps his hands together—but George knows exactly where this is going, so he cuts his father off and says, “I think we can address the function of a rubber duck later over dinner, dad.”

Arthur pauses, seemingly dejected, but then gathers himself and nods. “Oh, right, well, I suppose—“

”[Y/N]!”

And there’s George’s mum, Molly, coming from the kitchen, hurriedly pulling off her oven mitts to rush straight towards [Y/N] and envelop her in a big, warm hug. “Oh!” [Y/N] exclaims, obviously taken a bit by surprise given that the two of them have never met before, but eventually she breaks out into light laughs and hugs her back. [Y/N] meets George’s gaze over Molly’s shoulder; he gives her this encouraging sort of smile, and then jokingly complains, ”Blimey. S’pose I’m not missed here anymore.”

”Oh, quiet, you!” Molly frets, waving a dismissive hand in the air (George laughs) and then pulling away from [Y/N] to grip her by the arms and gush, “You’re far prettier than I could have ever imagined!”

[Y/N] flushes a shade of vibrant pink. “Oh, no—but thank you—“

”Have you gotten your vision checked lately, [Y/N]?” It’s Fred, leaning on the kitchen doorframe with a toy snake dangling from his hand. “Or do you really want to be with Georgey despite his baffling similarities to a mountain troll?"

”We’re twins, you prat.” George smacks the back of Fred’s head.

“Ah, right.” Fred is grinning despite having received a blow to the head. “It’s lovely seeing you, future-sister-in-law.”

Fred and [Y/N] have known each other just as long as she and George have, having gone to Hogwarts at the same time all those years ago. All three of them had bonded over their mutual love for pranks, although [Y/N] had always been their babysitter of sorts—the one who made sure none of their jokes went too far out of line. George loved her for it; loved how considerate and gentle she was despite her undeniable mischief. But he’d only really gotten himself to tell her after the war; one brief visit of hers to the joke shop turned into two, and then three, and then suddenly [Y/N] was always hanging around somewhere in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, helping the business run along. It was Fred who convinced George, only six months ago, to confess his admiration for her after five years of holding himself back.

After the war, George had all the time in the world to take as many risks as he could. So he told her—and now here they are: [Y/N] ruffling Fred’s hair fondly, George trying to fend off his mother’s hands trying to fix his hair (“don’t you think you need a haircut, sweetie?”), and Ron making his grand entrance from behind Fred.

”Ron!” [Y/N] exclaims, catching sight of him, and then jokingly she adds, “I haven’t seen you in ages—last time I saw you you were the size of a Pygmy Puff.”

Ron scoffs out a laugh. “You’re only two years older than me, you know,” he huffs, but lets her hug him, anyway.

Brief introductions are made as Bill and Charlie enter the room. George watches as [Y/N] shakes their hands—Charlie hugs her, as he’s always been big on affection—and just like that George knows that she’s won all of them over, the way she’d done to him. The way she still does to him, after all this time.

Five minutes later they're being ushered into the garden behind the Burrow, where a long wooden table has been set up. There are golden streamers draped all around the bushes and hanging from the branches of trees, but that's hardly what captures George and [Y/N]'s attention first because at the very end of the long table, a large banner is floating in mid-air: one that says "WELCOME TO THE FAMILY!" in glittering silver letters.

George doesn't miss the look on [Y/N]'s face when she sees this; her eyes almost seem to well up with tears, and despite the picture-perfect setting in front of him—despite the golden streamers and the balloons and the faerie lights hanging in mid-air—it's that look on [Y/N]'s face that has his breath catching in his throat and his heart doing odd little double-takes inside his chest.

He loves her, he realizes. It’s nothing new—shouldn't be anything new to him, as he's known it for quite a while now—but still there are moments like this one where he pauses and has to take a while to let it sink in; the fact that the woman next to him, whose smile reminds him of every single happy moment he has ever lived through, loves him just as much as he loves her.

Knowing that is absolutely surreal.

"We didn't expect you to arrive so early!" Molly says, obviously harried as she passes by them bearing a cauldron of steaming soup. “The cookies are still baking—and [Y/N], honey, I sent Ginny upstairs to go fetch your sweater, she should be down any time soon—Ron, Fred, will you stop that!”

The two, who had been wrestling with the toy snake Fred held in his hands earlier, immediately drop their hands to their sides. “T’was Fred who started it,” grumbles Ron.

”And I plan on ending it!” Fred emits some sort of war-cry, but stops when he spots the look on his mother’s face. “Kidding, mum.”

—

It takes a good half-hour or so before the last of the dishes are finally set on the table and everyone is seated. There’s food of all sorts in front of them—treacle tarts, cakes, pudding, pie—and [Y/N], who initially thought she’d feel too nervous to eat anything, eats with ease. Like everyone else around the table, she’s wearing a fuzzy red sweater with her initial sewn in front; a gift to her from Molly. The moment she’d laid eyes on it she knew it was her favorite thing in the entire world.

She tells this to George, who raises his eyebrows and replies snarkily, “I’m gonna have to ask for you to return the necklace I gave you, then.”

”Oh, sod off,” she laughs, rolling her eyes, but she lets him spoon pie into her mouth.

“Gah, get a room!” complains Fred.

”It’s not like they’re snogging,” says Charlie.

”Would you like us to?” grins George, earning him a slap to the shoulder from [Y/N].

”There are children here, George,” she scolds.

”You’re only two years older!” protests Ron.

No one really notices, but the sun has long since sunken below the horizon. Everyone around the table is immersed in chatter; Ron, for example, has been roped into a passionate debate with Fred and George about the true purpose of Pygmy Puffs. (“They only exist to ask for food and jump around and make annoying little noises!” says Ron, to which George responds with, “That sounds like you, Ron.”) [Y/N], meanwhile, is offering an explanation to Arthur about the rubber duck.

“They don’t do much of anything, really. They float and squirt and sometimes they make noises.”

But Arthur looks disappointed, as though he’d been expecting something much more grand. So [Y/N], not wanting to bring down his mood, decides to add, ”I believe they’re also used to keep—um—Grindylows away from your bathwater.”

Mr. Weasley positively beams with joy. “Is that right? I told you, Molly, rubber ducks are magnificent little things!”

Molly gives her husband an exasperated look, but it disappears the moment she turns to [Y/N]. “We’re so glad to have you here, sweetie,” she tells her, reaching over the table to grasp her hand and offering her the most motherly smile [Y/N] has ever seen. “We’ve heard so many good things about you. George speaks so very highly of you—and he was right, you really are perfect for him!"

[Y/N] flushes, smiling. “Thank you, Mrs. Weasley.”

”Oh, no, no, call me Molly,” she laughs, waving a hand in the air. “You’re part of the family now, dear. No need for formalities.”

And [Y/N] does feel like it—like she’s part of this table. This family. Not just the girlfriend of one of their sons but someone who actually belongs.

It’s odd, in a magical sort of way, how all of their random conversations blend together to form one harmonious burst of chatter, how everything and everyone in that table just works. Like puzzle pieces from different sets, she thinks to herself. And they shouldn't fit, but they do.

So this is home for George. This is the place he grew up in. This is where his heart lives.

She can't help the way her eyes stray to him every now and then, noting the sheer joy reflected in his eyes, the way the smile on his lips never really goes away. How, even when Ron flicks a strawberry at his face—even when George threatens to send a whole army of pygmy puffs after him—there's still that joyful glint in his eyes.

With the end of winter right around the corner, surrounded by the family that has welcomed her with open arms, holding the hand of her very favorite person underneath table, fireflies flitting around above them as laughter echoes around the table: [Y/N] feels safe. Happy.

So this is home.

—

The next morning, [Y/N] and George find themselves walking along the edge of the woods where meadow rues grow, a little ways away from the Burrow. They walk unhurried, the soles of their feet swishing against the blades of grass with each step, hands hanging loosely intertwined between them.

They’d woken up before anyone else, when the sun had just barely begun to rise. George had told her to "Get up, I want to take you somewhere" and admittedly she'd whined a little, claiming to need five more minutes of sleep, but George, laughing, threw her over his shoulder and threatened to carry her all the way there if she didn't oblige.

But now, she's glad she came with.

At one point she stops walking, lifts her face to the sky and closes her eyes against the warmth of the sun, taking a deep breath and soaking in everything that the morning wants to bring her. George watches her without question, a fond little smile already tugging on the edges of his lips without him even realizing. [Y/N] is beautiful in the sunlight—or any light at all, actually. George isn't entirely convinced someone like her—someone so breathtakingly beautiful and gentle and patient—would want someone like him. But when he tugs on her hand, turning her around to face him, and when he cups her jaw and guides her closer to press their mouths together, she lets him. She doesn't even think about it. Just melts into him like it's the only thing she knows how to do.

And then she pulls back slightly but stays close, runs a palm down the length of George’s arm and links their fingers together.

"It’s not much," he tells her, voice uncharacteristically quiet. A little unsure. "But it's home." Because, now that the excitement from yesterday has faded, George knows what his house could look like to someone who hasn't lived there all their life—knows that it looks messy, like pieces of it were thrown together haphazardly. It’s not a manor. Nothing like the kind of houses you see featured on Witch Weekly. He knows that [Y/N] isn't the type to care, but still—

"I love it," she pulls away, throwing her head back in an actual laugh—the kind that reminds George of everything good in the world. "I love this place, George. And your brothers and Ginny and your parents. Yesterday was.." she pauses, calming down a little, taking in a deep breath as she squeezes his hand in her own. "It was magical."

Quietly, with her eyes skittering away to look back at the Burrow behind them, she tells him, "I'm really happy, George."

George knows he'll remember this moment forever. The day is just beginning, and he is standing on the edge of a forest-line with a girl who looks at him like in spite of however many weird things he does, whatever dumb things he says, however embarrassing and difficult and painful some days might be, George is still worthy of being hers.

#harry potter #harry potter oneshot #harry potter oneshots #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #george weasley #george weasley oneshots #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff/Reader - The One Where You Punch Tony Stark - Part II

Part 1 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Read on AO3 (Complete Work)

Thanks to @gingerbreadcookieforlife for letting me know i did not upload the entire work here.

Summary:  When the rumors that you punched Tony Stark in the face spread around your school, some interesting events unfolded. Or enemies to Lovers in high School.

Warnings: 18+; Enemies to Lovers;  Angry Sex; Underage Sex; High School AU;  Violence; Fights;  Inappropriate language; Fluff and Smut; minor mentions of Reader x Carol and Reader x Jessica Jones.

Notes: This work was already finished on AO3, but i forgot to continue this on Tumblr. I hope everyone who thought that was a one shot, enjoy the rest of it.

//-//

Sometimes is just a kiss

The news that Steve Rogers and Tony Stark kissed behind the bleachers spread quickly through the school. And it was only 10 o'clock on a Monday morning.

You had no idea who had spread the rumor around the campus, but knowing your luck, you were just waiting for the bomb to drop in your lap.

Besides, you hadn't spoken to Wanda since you gave her an orgasm against the walls of a locker room. You saw her briefly in the hallway between history and biology class, but she looked away quickly, and you rolled your eyes without patience.

It had been good sex, and you repeated that it was just that. Sex. That it shouldn't have happened, mainly because you were incompatible, and there were too many social barriers between you.

You should have known that Wanda would not break the expectations they had of her, to stay as someone as broken as you.

Closing the locker with more force than necessary, you walked out toward the history room.

Taking your place in the last chair by the window, you sit down as you wait for the class to begin. You have about five minutes of peace before an angry Tony Stark enters the room and walks toward you pointing his finger in your face in a threatening manner.

- I told you to mind your own business.

- What have I done to deserve this, Lord. - You grumble without patience, ignoring Stark completely. He lets out an angry exclamation and punches the table, making you jump with surprise.

- You'll pay for this, bitch. I'm going to-

You cut off his speech by pulling his hair and forcing his head against the table in a blow that makes a loud noise. He staggers back, shocked that he has been hit again. The room erupts in a hubbub and someone holds Tony back to stop him from jumping on you.

You stand up, gathering your notebooks, seeing that the history teacher was already signaling for you to talk to the counselor.

- You never learn, Stark. - You sneer, taking one last look at the boy's bloody nose before you leave the room, most of your classmates laughing.

- I'm so angry with you right now. - said your mother as soon as you both left the school. You didn't respond, walking with your hands in your pockets to the car. She started mumbling to herself, and only when you had been in the car a few minutes did she speak to you again.

- And the worst of it is that you hit my boss's son!

You let out a wry laugh as you looked out the car window at the view.

- I doubt very much that Howard Stark knows any of his employees, Mother.

- It doesn't matter. - she retorted, turning the wheel. You watched the landscape change as you turned the corner.

- At least I didn't get expelled. - You commented, your mother let out a wry laugh.

- Suspension is not a good thing! - she replies in an irritated tone. - And I even had to miss my shift to come get you. I honestly didn't raise you for that.

- That's the point, isn't it? - You retorted angrily, finally turning to face your mother.  - Did you ever raise me? Last time I checked, I've been raising myself for a long time.

Your mother assumes a disapproving expression, denying it with her head. You throw yourself back on the seat with your arms crossed.

- You've always been so unfair, you know. - She begins. - Who's picking you up from school now, huh? And who puts a roof over your head? Food on your plate? You raised yourself, that's a joke.

She grumbles again, but you just ignore it, shutting yourself off from your surroundings.

You barely register when the car pulls up in front of your house, startled when your mother slams the car door as you get out. You take off your seat belt, and step out.

- You are grounded, three months. - she says, and you just nod. It's not as if she was present enough to know where you were going anyway. - And you are going to help your aunt in the store while you are suspended.

You let out a protesting grunt.

- Really, there's nothing worse for me to do? - You ask, throwing yourself on the sofa in the living room, your mother giggles.

- Weren't you the one who was thinking that suspension is better than expulsion? Well, you're not going to be sitting around this week. - She said as she left her purse on the kitchen table, and walked towards the small office table in the corner of the room. - Now go to your room, I'm working from home today.

You roll your eyes, getting up. Dragging your feet to your room, you slam the door as you enter, throwing yourself against your bed.

You hope Tony Stark's nose is hurting.

You are very surprised to see Natasha Romanoff enter your aunt's mercenary, shortly after school hours. She smiles at you with amusement, walking over to the counter.

- Wow, interesting look. - She jokes, commenting on the blue uniform combined with a sailor's hat that your aunt makes her three employees wear. You laugh at Nat.

- How can I help you, ma'am? - You asked in an amused tone, she leaned her arms on the counter.

- I'm looking for a fighting dog. Do you sell these here?

You laugh at the insinuation. And then a customer enters the store, Nat moves aside for you to attend to a lady buying tomato sauce and noodles, and then as you check out, she speaks again.

- You caused a fuss at school with your fight. - She remarks, and you just grumble, counting the money. - By the way, how did you find out about Rogers and Stark's secret affair?

You shrug, smiling. - I saw them kissing the night of the game. Stark freaked out, by the way, typical.

Nat laughed, and began to look around the store. - It is nice here. I didn't know you worked.

- It's my aunt's. - You say, finally finishing counting the money in the cash register. - And I worked at the junkyard on Avenue Two until last year.

- Aren't you going to tell me that you were fired for fighting? - Nat teased, making you laugh.

- No, I asked to quit. - So you say. - I wanted a quiet senior year.

Nat nods, and walks around the store, stopping at the magazine section. You see three more customers before she returns.

- I have to get home before my mother freaks out. - She announced as soon as she reached the counter. You nodded. - But I want to know if you want to do something with me?

- I thought you had a boyfriend. - You joked, and Nat rolled her eyes humorously.

- Don't be a smartass.

You laugh.

- I will be helping out in the store during this week. - You say. - Because of the suspension. I leave at seven.

Nat nodded, assuming a contemplative expression for a moment.

- Do you know where Avengers' Bar is? Three blocks past the municipal hospital?

You nod, smiling.

- Sure, Nat. - You say. - I've already driven past it.

- Why haven't you ever gone inside? I'm always there.

- I wasn't in that area to drink. - You remark with a suggestive smile, and Nat just laughs and rolls her eyes.

- Well, I'll be there on Wednesday. Some colleagues from State are playing there. - She says, and writes down a phone number on one of the papers on the counter. - Text me if you're going to show up.

- Are you sure it's not a date? - You joke and Nat just winks at you before you leave. You keep her number in your uniform pocket.

Even from outside, you could hear the music from the bar muffled against the windows.

Avengers's Bar was a popular place in town, but only for a certain kind of people. Mainly frequented by punks, bikers, and artists, it was exactly the kind of place you liked but should avoid. With its history of fights, it wasn't exactly the kind of place you went to anymore.

A dark-haired girl in metal-working attire smiled at you from the doorway, looking at you mischievously as you walked through the door. You just nodded slightly.

Inside, you looked around for Natasha and her friends, but with the amount of people in the bar, it wasn't so easy to find them.

- Y/N! - shouted Thor when he spotted you in the crowd. You smiled, walking over to where he was standing. - We're on the top floor, Nat got a table. Come on, I just came to get some drinks.

You followed him to the bar, and helped him carry the drinks for the others. You didn't recognize any of the drinks they were making there, so you decided to just drink from everyone's glass, which made Thor laugh.

- Look who I found. - announced Thor as soon as you two arrived at the table. The group smiled when they saw you, and you greeted everyone with a kiss on the cheek and sat down next to Nat.

- We heard that you were suspended. - commented Clint, but he seemed almost proud. You shrugged awkwardly.

- She wasn't content to just punch Stark, she also slammed the bastard's head against the table! - Said Natasha excitedly, and the group laughed. You laughed half embarrassed, as you took a sip of the pink drink Nat had ordered.

They started talking about some scandal that happened at the federal school, and you did your best to react to it, not really knowing who the people they were talking about were. And then Valkyrie let out an exclamation, as if she had spotted someone, and stood up. A very pretty girl approached, smiling and hugging Valkyrie.

- I'm glad you could make it, Carol. - Valkyrie said the girl who waved to everyone. When you looked closely, you finally recognized her. Carol Danvers was an ex-student of your high school, having graduated last year. She used to be very popular, and you noticed the military silver necklace around her neck.

Carol sat down next to Valkyrie, and the two of them seemed so close that you thought maybe they were dating.

When the show started, everyone exclaimed with excitement, quickly getting up and walking to the stage area. You smiled as Nat dragged you by the hand, liking the feeling of having friends.

The band was surprisingly good, and you danced with excitement, feeling the alcohol make you lively and loose. You were surprised when Carol began to dance with you, her hands on your waist.

She was very attractive, so you didn't mind her kissing you. And you pushed away the feeling that she wasn't the person you wanted. When she pulled you into the bathroom, her hands roaming over you as she tugged off your clothes, you ignored every part of your body screaming that this was wrong. When she made you cum, you bit your lip to keep yourself from screaming Wanda's name.

Your suspension was finally over, and you gave the key to the store back to your aunt before you went to school.

You tried not to think about it too much, about how many college opportunities you had missed with that stain on your record. But if you were honest, you didn't even know if you wanted to go to college anymore. Every day the possibility of buying a motorcycle and traveling aimlessly getting closer to your real calling.

Many people stared at you when you arrived at school. The vast majority didn't even bother to look away. You rolled your eyes impatiently, reaching into your jacket pockets as you walked through the main doors.

You were slightly startled when Jessica Jones approached you in your locker, but you smiled awkwardly, taking off your headphones.

- Girl, you are a legend! - she said excitedly, pushing you lightly by the shoulders against the lockers. She stood close, and you thought maybe that was flirting. - By the way, I didn't have your number to text you.

She took a pen from her bag, and grabbed your hand, writing down her own number while flashing you a mischievous smile.

- Text me, let's do something this week. - She says as she lets go of your hand. You blink slightly, and nod, a little awkwardly. Jessica doesn't seem to notice, and smiles, leaving afterwards.

You hear a whistle, and Nat looks at you with curiosity.

- You are stealing hearts, huh. - She teases, and you feel your face heat up, still surprised by the whole interaction. - By the way, are you and Carol on a real thing?

- What? - you ask in surprise. - No, I don't think so. It was just sex in a concert restroom, Natasha. I don't think she even knew my name. - You remark as you turn toward the redhead. She laughs, finishing putting her books away.

- Actually she asked me for your number. - She says, and you look at her in surprise. - But then I see you with Jones, and I have to admit, it's a tough choice. - Nat teases, making you laugh. You start walking down the hall together, walking towards the classrooms. You think Nat has said something about the show, but your attention is elsewhere. As you walk past Wanda and Peter Maximoff, everything seems to slow down, you notice the slight flush on Wanda's cheeks when her gaze meets yours, and you both hold your breath as you walk past each other. But the next second everything is as it was before, and you sigh, focusing your attention on Nat.

When you arrive in the literature room, you are happy to know that Nat sits next to you.

You hate the cafeterias. So when Nat invites you to join her at the outside tables you think it's the best lunch you have ever had.

The outside courtyard is relatively less crowded than the other places in the school, and you are in the middle of a discussion about the new TV series that launched over the weekend, when Nat signals to something behind you.

Coming out of the school, and heading towards the table where you were standing, was Sharon Carter, accompanied by her pet friend, Pepper Potts. And you really thought you could have a quiet lunch.

- To what do I owe the honor, Carter? - you asked ironically as they reached your table.

- You stay away from my boyfriend. - She spoke in a serious tone, and before you could say anything, she tipped the glass of soda she held over your head.

You felt your whole body boil with irritation and you stood up abruptly, seeing red. But Natasha tugged on your forearm, whispering something about your suspension. Sharon and Pepper seemed to be slightly startled by your posture, but they let out a wry chuckle and went back inside the school.

You tugged on Nat's arm, then left the courtyard and headed for the changing rooms. You needed a cold shower to calm yourself down, or you would do something that would surely cause your expulsion.

Since the athletic games period had not yet started, the gym locker room was empty. You sighed with relief as you found your spare change of clothes in your locker.

Walking toward the bathroom stalls, you quickly undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting the cold water wash all the soda and anger from your body.

Leaning your head against the wall, you let out a sigh, thinking about all the shit that was going on in your life in less than two weeks. And then your mind went back to Wanda, and you let out a breathless groan, laughing humorlessly. The cold water didn't help to chill the new heat that settled under your stomach. You turned off the shower, then stepped out to put on your clothes.

On your way out of the locker room, you saw something you would rather not have seen. The universe seemed to be testing your anger today.

Wanda was being pressed against the wall of the indoor bleachers, which at that time was empty and perfect for those who wanted to make out in a secluded spot. It was a tall boy, but you couldn't see his face, which was buried in Wanda's neck, kissing her. And then she opened her eyes, and looked straight at you. You saw him pull down his pants and enter her, and she moaned with her mouth ajar, without taking her eyes off you. She had a gleam in her eyes that made your whole body tremble.

You gripped the strap of your purse tightly, controlling the impulse to go over and beat the boy until he passed out, and spun on your feet, walking out the back door.

Fucking day, you thought as you walked back to school.

Eventually, you thanked Nat for keeping you from hitting Sharon. She shrugged, saying that she didn't want you to be expelled now that you were becoming friends, and you tried not to be too happy about it.

On Wednesday, Carol Danvers showed up at the door of the school on a motorcycle. This is sure to be a long-lasting gossip, you thought as you and Nat greeted her on the way out. Several students looked at you, many of them impressed by Carol's motorcycle, others impressed to see her back at school, but the vast majority trying to ask how you knew her.

- What's up, Danvers? - You say to her with a slight nod. Carol looks at you as if she wants to undress you right there, but you have your gaze on her motorcycle, attentive to the details of the vehicle.

- Hey, pretty girl. - She answers while leaning against the vehicle.

- Jesus, you are not even seeing me. - Nat teases and Carol just laughs, giving her a kiss on the cheek. - Tell me, what brings you back to your beloved school?

- I came to say hello. - says Carol. - And to invite you both to a concert on Saturday.

- And you didn't text me because you missed me. - Nat rebuts in a provocative tone, Carol smiles, and then looks at you, before confirming. You don't really know what to say.

- If the music is good, I'm in. - You joke and Nat agrees. Carol takes two tickets out of her pocket and hands them to you.

- I'll pick you up, okay? - She offers it to you. You think about refusing, without really knowing why. But you nod in agreement before you can think about it too much.

- Okay, lovebirds. I'll leave you two alone because I'm starting to get the urge to puke. - Nat jokes one last time, before heading out toward the parking lot. You imagine that she will use the break time to smoke a bit.

You shift your weight between your feet before turning your gaze back to Carol.

- I was surprised to hear that you asked Nat for my number. - You comment, and Carol smiles.

- I like to talk to pretty girls. - She says, and you roll your eyes humorously at the flirtation. She laughs, biting her lips, and you allow her to rest her hands on your waist, perhaps too low.

- Are you looking for something serious, Danvers? - you ask with a slight irony. Carol looks at you in mild surprise.

- You don't think it has anything to do with me, do you?

- Sorry, the motorcycle and the leather jacket gave you away. - You respond humorously. - I get it, because it's my game.

Carol laughs.

- I'm enjoying our time together. - she confesses. - But I'll be back at the station in a few weeks. I can't make any promises.

You nod, without really being bothered by it. Carol is not the one you wanted to be with. And to push those thoughts away, you kiss her. She smiles, deepening the kiss slightly. You think she squeezed your ass, but you're not really paying attention.

And then you break apart, and she smiles at you.

- I'll see you Saturday, right? - she asks, and you nod, letting her kiss you one last time.

When she finally starts the motorcycle and drives away, you notice the mischievous and suggestive looks you receive.

And you try not to let your anger peak, but then you notice Stark's group in the corner of the school, laughing openly. You'll need to walk past them to get inside, and you really hope that none of them will test your patience.

- Hey weirdo, who was your girlfriend? - shouts Tony Stark. You know, you really think maybe he is brain damaged. His friends laugh at the joke, and you think you will ignore it, but then he shouts again. - I'm talking to you, dyke!

He throws something at you, missing you by inches. You watch the red liquid run down in front of your feet.

You think, this is it. This is how I'm going to get expelled. By sticking a straw in Tony Stark's eye. You wondered if prison life was worth it.

But then the laughter died down in the next second, and you watched Tony turn pale.

- Mr. Stark, please come with me. - A male voice sounded behind you. The school principal was a scary man, and he was hardly ever seen outside his classroom. He never witnessed his students' conflicts, and Fury never bothered him with such matters. Tony's paleness was understandable.

- P-Professor Thanos, I don't...

- Now. - says the man finally, and Tony stiffens his jaw as he follows him. He gave you an angry look before leaving.

The buzz started as soon as they entered the school, but you didn't really pay attention to anyone. Ignoring the middle finger Steve Rogers threw at you, you went back inside the school.

Tony Stark was punished with detention. You rolled your eyes when the rumor reached you. They had also said that his father refused to pick him up and that the driver was the one who talked to Fury. You would have sympathy for Stark if he wasn't a complete imbecile.

You had chemistry again, and you really weren't in the mood to see Wanda, but you had no choice.

And then Professor Agatha was feeling particularly inspired today, and decided to switch lab partners. You ended up on the same bench as Darcy Lewis and Pietro Maximoff, you being the only trio due to the odd number of students. You sighed against your bad luck.

The experiment that Mrs. Harkness performed was not difficult, but it could be dangerous if you didn't pay attention. So you just listened to Darcy's instructions, and everything was working out fine. Then Pietro Maximoff decided that his attention was better placed on a girl sitting behind him, and started flirting. Darcy rolled her eyes, smiling at you.

In the blink of an eye, you heard a scream of pain. Pietro had forgotten the limits of the counter itself, and stretching his arms most likely to impress the girl behind you, he slammed his hand against the chemical glass jar behind him. Darcy stepped back to avoid being hit, but you were quick to help Pietro, pulling his arm into the sink on the counter, turning on the faucet as you hurried to get as much of the acidic liquid off his skin as possible.

Pietro sighed with relief, probably feeling the pain disappear as you rubbed the soap into his skin. He was extremely surprised, as was the rest of the room.

- Very efficient reaction, Miss Y/L/N. - commented Ms. Harkness as she approached you, holding a cloth to dry Pietro. - I'll add an extra point to your average for that. Mr. Maximoff, please go to the infirmary.

Pietro wrapped the cloth around his injured hand, and looked at you with a mixture of hesitation and confusion in his eyes, but he nodded in thanks.

Harkness asked someone to call the janitor to clean up the shards, and then continued the class. You found it hard to concentrate when you noticed Wanda's gaze on you.

Jessica Jones kisses you against the wall of the second floor locker room.

You exchanged a few messages, mostly innocent jokes. And then Jessica said she had something amazing to show you, and when you met her after third period, in the not-so-isolated locker room, she pushed you up against the wall and kissed you on the mouth.

Jessica tasted like coke and something sweet, and she likes to bite.You had to remind yourself that you were kissing someone while you were doing it, not feeling connected to her really.

And then two girls came into the bathroom giggling and she let you go.

- Sorry for the scare. - She joked, her lips swollen. You shrugged, smiling slightly.

- What inspired you to do this? - you teased, putting your hands on her waist.

- You of course. Punching assholes and saving people. It's hot. - She says and then she checks her cell phone. - Damn, I have chemistry now. I can't be late.

She steals a kiss from you and quickly leaves. You blink, not really understanding what has happened.

As you go downstairs, you realize that the cheerleading squad is coming out of the locker room, and Sharon and Potts give you a death stare as you walk past them. And then, as you pass through the door to the women's dressing room, you hesitate. All your logic tells you to go on your way, but then your feet are turning and you walk into the dressing room, looking around.

You let out a sigh as you find who you were looking for. Wanda is changing clothes, wearing only her cheer skirt, and a bra. Your intimacy pulsates with the image. Wanda lets out a surprised exclamation at seeing you there, but then she lets out a mischievous smile, and continues undressing.

Slowly, she lets the skirt slide down her thighs. You bite your lower lip hard as it falls to the floor.

And then two other cheerleaders come out of one of the aisles behind you, and the giggles die down when they see you. One of the girls turns to Wanda:

- Is this girl bothering you, Wandy? - she asks in a honeyed voice.

- And what are you, a watchdog? - You retort before Wanda can answer. The girl gives you a death glare. - Mind your own business, nosy.

The other girl approaches you, looking at you with disdain. - We don't like street trash here. Why don't you go back to your junkyard?

You swallowed dryly, trying to control your anger. The smaller girl giggled, and you looked at Wanda, who looked in shock, before you stormed out of the dressing room slamming the door.

You knew you shouldn't do that, but your feet dragged you out into the field of trailers.

You walked a long way until you arrived. And when you entered the courtyards, many of the residents looked at you with a frown. But you ignore them, as you walk between the houses. You knock hard on the door of one of the trailers farthest away. It takes a moment before a tall, muscular boy answers it.

He lets out a wry laugh when he sees you.

- Visiting old friends? - He teases, you don't smile.

- I need to break something, Erik. - You say simply, and he sighs. And then he closes the door, and you walk together in the opposite direction, out of the trailer park.

You have known Erik Killmonger since kindergarten. His life wasn't exactly the easiest. You used to hang out together in high school, but then Erik started getting into a lot of fights, and it was rumored that he joined a gang. He didn't tell you anything, and when you asked, he told you to mind your own business. And then, in the second year, he was expelled for breaking the jaw of Johann Schmidt, one of the seniors at the school. You remember never seeing Erik so angry. But you never knew the reason for the fight. And then he drifted away, and even though you missed him, you didn't push him.

- Here it is. - Erik said as you reached an abandoned area a few feet beyond the trailers. He handed you a wooden stick, and you took a deep breath before you started smashing through the abandoned objects there, most of them junk.

- Fuck that fucking school. - You shouted as you hit a bottle, the glass splattering through the air. Erik just stood at a safe distance, his hands in his pockets. - Fuck Tony Stark. - You shouted, a wooden box shattering with the blow of your bat. And then you noticed a tall dead tree trunk a few yards away, and you stepped forward, aggressively slamming your bat several times against the tree. - Fuck Wanda Maximoff. - And the staff shattered with the force of your blow. You let out a sigh, throwing the object to the ground, as you sat down down on the grass.

Erik walked over to you, and he said nothing about the tears streaming down your face.

- Do you want to talk about it? - he asked as he sat down beside you. You nodded in denial.

- I want you to tell me something about yourself. - You said, wiping your face.

- Um, let me think. - He says, putting his arms behind him and leaning back, he looks relaxed. - My mother is in town.

You turn your head to him in surprise. He smiles.

- Yes, I know, that's nice. - He comments. - But I won't get my hopes up. She could leave at any moment.

- I hope she stays. - You say.

- So do I.

You stand there in silence for a moment, then Erik stands up, then offers his hand to help you stand. You sigh and accept.

- Let's get something to eat, you're paying. - He says, causing you to smile ironically.

You end up at one of the dinner stands across the main road from the trailer park. You buy Erik a hamburger and fries, but you decide to just have a milkshake.

- This is all about a girl, isn't it? - he asks after a while, and you almost deny it. But you just shrug your shoulders in agreement, taking a sip of your milkshake. - Is it someone I know?

- Maybe. - you say, and Erik frowns humorously. He eats some chips, assuming a thoughtful expression.

- That's hard, I've never seen you paying attention to anyone at school. - he says. - What about that redheaded girl in the locker next to yours?

You laugh and nod your head in denial. Erik smiles, thinking again.

- What about that girl in your chemistry class? The one you said was smart?

- Darcy? - You ask and he confirms, you just smile. - No, I wish. Darcy would be less complicated.

Erik laughs, and then pushes the rest of the potatoes to you.

- Why don't you just tell me? - he asks, but his tone is not accusatory, just provocative.

- Because I don't want to admit it. - You confess, accepting the potatoes. It takes a moment, and then you speak. - I think I'm falling in love with Wanda Maximoff.

You don't look at Erik, fearing his reaction. But then he lets out a sigh, and drags his hand across the table, offering it to you. You accept, and he holds your hand warmly.

- You, my friend, are totally screwed. - He teases, making you laugh. - But keep calm. Passions go away as fast as they come.

You nod, squeezing his hand before letting go. You eat in silence, and you can't help but think how much you missed him.

Debates test your patience. And as if that weren't irritating enough, you still share this class with Wanda.

You don't look at her when you enter the room, but you feel her gaze on you. Throwing yourself on the last chair in the room, you stand with your headphones on and sink your head into your arms on the desk, wishing for the school year to end soon.

When Professor Hill enters the room, you are surprised that one of your classmates nudges you to warn you, and you smile in appreciation as you straighten your posture and put your cell phone away.

- I hope you have read the book I asked for, children. - She announces as she puts her bag on the table, and walks to the front of the cabinet, leaning against the wood as she looks around the room. - We will discuss it in class today.

The room lets out a chorus of displeasure, but the teacher lets out a chuckle. Her debates were famous for ending up in heated discussions, plus they made up about fifty percent of the grade. If you didn't say anything, you had to write a report of the discussions.

The teacher took a copy of the book from her purse, and held it with both hands.

- "It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man, possessing a good fortune, must be in need of a wife." - She read, walking around the room.  - Who can tell me what the line implies about women?

- It's the old-fashioned way of saying that women prefer rich guys. - Steve Rogers sneered, drawing giggles from his teammates in the room. Mrs. Hill, however, just sighed with disappointment.

- No, Mr. Rogers. - she said, cutting off the laughter immediately. - If you have no intention of participating seriously in the debate, I suggest you remain silent.

Steve let out a lame laugh, shrugged, and whispered something to his tablemate. You rolled your eyes impatiently, resting your face in your hand. And then you watched Wanda Maximoff raise her arm up.

- Yes, Wanda? - nodded Mrs. Hill waiting for the answer.

- I think it's about a reaffirmation of the status of the man. As if the woman is a trophy to prove his status and position. - She says. - It objectifies women completely.

You blinked, slightly impressed. Wanda was always smart, after all. But then the boys in class giggled, and the redhead seemed to shrug her shoulders. Professor Hill, however, smiled at her.

- Interesting position, Miss Maximoff. - she said, and walked back around the room. - Let's talk a little about the main romance of the book. - She says, and looks reproachfully quickly at two boys who are whispering, and they fall silent. - I'd like to know what you think about Elizabeth and Darcy's relationship, and how we can bring the book's issues into our current society. Do you believe that the same prejudices are faced today?

The room explodes into excitement, and you feel like going home. Mrs. Hill looks around, and waves to calm the students.

- Please, class. Raise your hand who believes that Elizabeth and Darcy would easily marry today?

The vast majority of the students raise their hands. And someone makes a comment that they would get laid on the first date, and many laugh. You play with your pencil, twirling it on your finger, and then feel a light elbow on your arm. Your classmate nods her head forward, and you blink in confusion, realizing that Ms. Hill has called your attention.

- I'm sorry, Mrs. Hill. What is it? - you ask, straightening your posture. She smiles tenderly.

- I asked why you didn't raise your hand. - She repeats. - Could you share with the class your position?

You let out a sigh, thinking about it. And then you lean back in your chair, putting your hands in your pockets, and trying not to get intimate with the stares in the room.

- I really don't understand how everyone here can say that we no longer have social rules for relationships. - You say. - If Darcy and Elizabeth were from the present day, the prejudices portrayed in the books would only be different, but they would still be there. We have many ways of forbidding people to relate to each other, even in this school.

- Interesting. Please continue. - the teacher said, leaning back against her desk. You let out a sigh, trying to organize your opinion into words.

- I can give an example of how we divide the social groups around here. - you say. - It's not like the jocks are seen hanging out with the kids in the theater. Elizabeth would definitely be one of the smart girls, and Darcy would be the dumb brat. Sort of like a Tony Stark.

The room erupted in giggles, and you watched Steve Rogers lock his jaw, commenting something to his classmate. Professor Hill gave you a warning look, beckoning the class to be quiet.

- So you believe that Darcy and Elizabeth would not be together in the present days? - she asks you, and you shrug.

- I don't think Darcy would break the expectations people have of him for Elizabeth. - You state. - And besides, she can do better than that.

Some students laughed at your comment, and Mrs. Hill smiled at you. And then she asked if anyone had a different opinion, and you were slightly surprised to see Wanda raise her hand again.

- I think they would end up together. - She says. - They are really in love, and just like in the book, I think Darcy just needs time to understand everything, and to build up some courage.

- And Elizabeth should expect him to have some guts, then? - You cut Wanda off. The room looks at you in surprise, and Wanda turns in her chair, a look of mixed defiance and surprise, but you don't back away. - While he decides whether she is worth it, should she just wait around?

- Elizabeth needs to understand that Darcy also has his own issues. - Wanda retorts. - That it's not easy to let go of all the expectations people place on you.

You laugh lightly with irony.

- Of course Darcy would be quite comfortable keeping Elizabeth waiting. - You say with mild irritation. - Besides, Elizabeth is also going through a lot. She deserves to have someone who chooses her.

- That's not what we're arguing about. - Wanda replies. - No one is questioning Elizabeth's worth. I'm saying that they would be together, but that they need time.

- And I'm saying that Darcy has to stop being such a gutless pussy and make a decision soon. Elizabeth is not going to pause her life just to wait for him.

- She would do that if she really liked Darcy. - Retorts the redhead, you blink in disbelief.

You think the room held its breath with your debate with Wanda, and you would have continued if the teacher hadn't interrupted.

- Okay, I think we're getting a little nervous. - She cut in, and you blinked awkwardly, stopping to look at Wanda. The room murmured quietly again as Wanda turned back to face the front. - Thank you for your opinions, ladies. Now let's move on, who can offer a reflection on marriage in the book?

The class continued for a while, but you completely disconnected. Your heart was racing and you realized that the discussion you had was not about Darcy or Elizabeth. Wanda was asking you to wait for her. And you felt a strong urge to punch something. And then you focused your attention completely on the literature report, ignoring the debate completely.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #wandaxreader #wandaxyou #wandamaximoffxreader #wandavision #wanda #wandamaximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x dom!reader #The One Where You Punch Tony Stark #enemies to lovers #high school

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

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

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

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

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

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

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

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

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #thomas walker #talker #james potter #lily potter #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #sick fic

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Something hoochie with Luke and working on his solo album

Taking limited requests. 4 slots left.

Hoochie, but make it soft. So soft. CW: NSFW 18+ Content.

______________________________________

Dealing with things positively sucked and Luke was sure that his plan previously to keep living, keep burying was the best for him. But there was progress--and he couldn't deny that. He could actually talk to you about things. The wall that made it seem like it was always going to be on an emotional island or emotional hell was cracking and it felt good.

But it fucking hurt--to realize so many mistakes he made. Knowing that's not the kind of person he wanted to be, not anymore. And right now, he fucked up. You asked him to help you clean the kitchen taking the trash out and help you clean the top of the cabinets. Easy work really in the grand scheme of it all. If it had just buckled up and got fucking down to it, he would be done already.

But the house is way too silent. At first he doesn't hear it due to the guitars and keys in his ears, but in his pause and stretch in the computer chair, he realizes in fact the house is too quiet. When he looks up to the time in the right hand corner of his laptop, his jaw drops. He asked for five more minutes before helping you. And you agreed--because five minutes was reasonable. But not this. This was far from reasonable.

"Holy fuck," he mutters, spinning around in his chair. "Babe, I'm so sorry," he shouts, only realizing the door is closed and most likely keeping his voice from carrying outside of the makeshift studio. "Babe!" he calls again, taking the hallway in a half job.

How had an hour passed? One moment he was just importing tracks, fully intending to stop there and but then he wanted to check them to make sure the takes were as clean as he could get them before cutting anything else together.

When he skids to a halt in the kitchen, you're at the table, a plate of crumbs in front of you. "I know I asked for five minutes and then I totally spaced. And it's not an excuse. I should have set a timer. I'm very sorry," Luke says, approaching slowly from your left.

"I'm trying hard not to blow my top, Luke. I just--I agreed to the five minutes because that was reasonable. I figured I could do something else in that time until you were ready. And then I tried to knock and call your name. And you didn't answer."

"My headphones were on. But really, I should've set an alarm. I can help now. Do you still need help?"

You shake your head. "No, I finished it up."

"Baby, that's not safe. If you had of fallen--"

"I didn't fall," you interrupt, staring into the glass in front of you. The water glistens in the sun and for a moment you hate it. Hate how pretty it is, how much it doesn't care given all the shit you're going through right now. And you know it's not right to blame sunlight and water. And you're trying not to blame Luke. You're trying not to make him into the villian.

Luke doesn't like how sad your voice is. "Let's talk about it?" He walks around the table and settles across from you. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just--" you start and then stop. "I feel like this has been happening a lot. And I don't want to feel like I'm being neglected."

He never meant to make you feel that way. But just because he hadn't wanted to, didn't mean he hadn't. "I'm very sorry I've made you feel that way. I know I need to do better. Do you think you have that kind of capacity? To give me time to get better?" The language is awkward on his tongue but his therapist says not making assumptions and using language that gives others choice is going to serve best. So he's careful as he speaks to make sure he's not making any assumptions on your behalf.

You sigh, but nod. "I do. I think that maybe putting household stuff on a schedule can help?"

Luke nods. "I like that idea. It would force me to track of time too." The silence envelopes the two of you and you look up to his face. Luke looks pensive, as if trying to decipher something.

"Is-is there something else you want to say?"

Luke blinks, turning his icy blue eyes back to you. "Not right now. But when I get the right words later, I'll let you know."

You nod, picking up your plate and taking it to the sink. Luke's voice floats up from behind you. "Do you need help with anything else?"

"No, I think I'm going to take a nap."

Luke hums, to let you know he's heard you. And when you shuffle just over to the couch, Luke walks back to the sink, washing the plate and a few sparse cups left by the two of you.

You curl up around Petunia and drifting into sleep isn't hard. Luke watches your breathing slow and become steady. He keeps his distance in the kitchen, watching you from the table. If you already finished cleaning the kitchen, he wonders if cleaning the bathrooms were next on your list.

Yeah, he can do that. Clean the bathrooms, and do the laundry. And once that's done if you're awake, he'll draw you a bath. First he checks to see if your favorite sweets are in the pantry. If they aren't he'll go out and get them and a few other grocery. But you're well stocked. So he careful goes down the hallway, grabbing all the cleaning supplies.

Luke's careful to shut the door to the bathroom so the running water doesn't wake you. He sprays down the tub and walls and let's it sit for moment as he clears off the counters and the top of the toilet cover. Once those are clear and cleaned he turns his attention back to the tub. With that clean he wipes down the mirror and lines the inside of the toilet with cleaner.

It gets a little stuffy, so he cracks the door just a smidge. His har flops in his face, and he pushes it back with the back of his hands. He can't keep letting this kind of stuff happen. Maybe Mondays are kitchen days. A way to reset after the weekend. Then Tuesdays could be laundry. Or maybe Tuesday's can be bathroom days and then Wednesdays can be laundry.

Done with the the first bathroom, he carries his supplies to the master bathroom.

Something about laundry on Wednesdays feels better to Luke. Right now it's being done on as needed basis, and there wasn't anything wrong is that. But he felt like sometimes because of this he was constantly running the bottom of the barrel for his own clothes. So doing it more consistently would help him with that.

Luke finishes the master bathroom quicker than he anticipated and then heads to the half bath and cleans that quickly. By the time he's done his shirt is just starting to cling to him. He feels off the gloves, puts all the buckets and cleaners back up. You still sleep peacefully on the couch and Luke grabs the laundry pins from the closet--both yours and his.

While laundry wasn't always Luke's favorite, mostly because separating out the delicates, darks, and lights, made his head hurt, he threw together a little chart that you got lamented and hang up in the laundry room to help whenever he's not sure. And it feels stupid sometimes, but at this point it's just about making sure that he can do things done, no matter how they get there.

Luke runs the light colors first with only a handful of delicates. The darks is a larger pile, but he's worried if he runs them first something will get left behind and stain.

By the time he gets lights out of the dryer and starts to transfer over the darks into the machine, you knock on the door modeling. Luke smiles as he looks up, letting the few things in his hand, drop into the dryer. "How was your nap?"

"It was good." You spy the basket full of light colored clothes and go to pick it up but Luke's vocalizations to get you to drop the basket stop you.

"I got it. How about I draw you a bath once I get all these into the dryer?"

"Luke, you don't have to."

"But I want to," he counters, head dropping to make sure the shirt in his hands can go into the dryer. It can't so he drapes it onto the pile on the side of other things that need to get hung up to dry.

"Will you join me?" you ask, hiking up the basket in his distraction.

"If you'd like."

"I would."

When Luke turns, he sees the basket in your hands. "Hey, I told you I was going to do that."

"Well if you're joining me in a bath, you're going to need help folding clothes."

For a moment, he glares at you, but when you don't back down he hiccups out a laugh. "Fine, I guess."

*****

The water's warm as you step into it, Luke's already submerged, pressed up against the back wall. You settle between his legs and let the bubbles lap up against your chest. Luke encases your waist once you're under the water with his arms. The bubbles smell like lavender as the scent softly creeps up your nose.

There's not many words. Not even as Luke kisses across your shoulder and his fingers skate across the skin of your side. You sigh at the feeling and sink further into him. "I'm sorry again," he whispers against your ear.

"I accept your apology," you return just as quiet. "We'll just have to figure something out. Like we always do."

Luke smiles for a moment. Like we always do. Because you two always do. You manage to work things out and come out better. He just wished it wasn't always something to fix. he wished that he could get it together without it falling apart. It felt like a leaky boat sometimes, just scoping out enough water to keep afloat.

He just barely catches the feel of your hands running over his thighs and he shivers. And it's just stillness for a moment, maybe even two. But you stretch up and turn just a hair to kiss him. And Luke lets himself go into the kiss. His hands wander your body, gripping at the flesh and it's just enough pressure to make you moan, just enough of squeeze to make you give into the tingly that runs down your spine.

The water sloshes just a little as you spin all the way around, climbing onto his lap. You're thankful for such a large bathtub right now as your arms wind around his neck and you find his lips again in a kiss. It's slow, not rushed in any sense, but still dizzying. You pull away from Luke and he chases you down.

A giggle falls from your lips. "Thank you," you whisper. "For doing this. But for also working hard to make this relationship work."

Luke should be used to the patience, to the gratitude. But it still blows him away everytime you are firm, but willing to help. "Thank you. For, like, literally everything."

You two share another kiss, deeper than the last and you ever so gently rock against Luke's length. Luke groans into the kiss. "Please," he says so softly against your neck, his lips barely closing around your skin to give you kisses.

"Hmm," you start with a devilish grin crossing your lips. "Please, what? I need words."

His fingers dig into your hips and the air's leaving his lungs at the feeling of you against him. With a firm grip onto his hair, you tilt his head back. His eyes are blown but he smiles at you. "Of course you need words," he finally responds.

You quirk an eyebrow--a warning. But Luke's never needed more than that to get back in line.

"Please fuck me," he finally returns.

"That's more like it," you smile and seal his lips in a kiss briefly. "I'm more than happy too."

#luke hemmings #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings smut #luke hemmings imagine #luke hemmings fluff #luke hemmings 5sos #5sos #h writes #5sos fanfic #luke hemmings fanfic #luke hemmings fic #5sos smut #5sos fic #5sso blurb #5sos imagine

[fluffywings13]

Five Seconds

This is for @wolfiegirl625-2

I hope you like it friend! Sorry it took so long to get out!

                                                      ...

Izuku’s learned many things in his time as Hawks assistant.

One, the man is weak to jump scares, seriously, hide behind a corner and jump out and yell ‘BOO’ and the man would shriek like a little girl on Christmas morning.

Two, the man is terrified of spiders, he’d been going through old files once and pointed at a spider (no bigger then his pinky nail mind you) and the hero shrieked and jumped out of his chair, literally, he lifted himself completely from the ground.

Three, the man was convinced that, A) Izuku was going to get himself killed before he reached twenty-one, and B) Izuku would cause him to go gray prematurely, and C) Both.

Four, the man is a brutal tickle monster who took pleasure in watching him suffer (even if he did enjoy it) and went out of his way to take him down.

And, five, the man gave the best cuddles. A+++++ grade cuddles. He’s talking wing blanket, head scratches, nuzzles, the whole enchilada.

Izuku has also learned that when he hears “You have five seconds to run” you skiddoodle skidaddle your self outta there.

Which is where we find him now, running through the halls in the hero’s agency, the man chasing after him shouting for those they pass to catch him (which was cheating but he’ll digress that he probably deserves it), as fake blood drips down his face.

He pranked his boss.

That’s right, he pranked him, how you might ask, he pretended to be dead. Was super convincing too, the man admitted so many things to him while he thought he was dying in his arms. It was cruel, but hilarious at the same time, so, in his opinion, ten outta ten.

Bursting through the Agency’s front doors, he takes a sharp right and dives into the crowded sidewalk, weaving between people, bumping shoulders with some of them, and cackles when he hears his hero swear up a storm when he loses sight of him. It’s a brief moment, before he feels the calculating predatorial eyes on his back, and the sound of boots smacking the pavement as the chase is restarted.

It takes about ten minutes before he hears Keigo say—“Wait, I can fly.” Which makes him cackle again because the winged hero forgot he could fly.

Ducking under the hands that reach out for him, he makes another sharp right into an alley, hears the man yelp as he almost flies into a fire escape, and the strong beats of his wings as he corrects himself.

Izuku screams when hands curl under his arms and the ground drops out from under him, kicking his feet, not so much out of terror of the fact he was just whisked off the ground, but by the fact that he knows what comes next. He kicks the man in the shin when they land on the balcony to his office, the hero yelps and lets go instinctively, and Izuku darts forward, for the door, shrieking when he’s swooped off his feet by a flurry of red feathers, and carried back to the hero who’s mercy he’s left at.

Keigo grins at him, hands on his hips, and leans forward when they’re face to face. “You had your fun, you little shit, now it’s my turn.”

“Come on man, can’t we talk about this?” The greenette pleads as he’s dangle upside down. “It really wasn’t so bad, was it?”

The hero pinches his nose and he yelps. “You made me think you were legitimately dying, it is that bad, you’re in for it this time, Eyas, you got me good, I’ll admit, and now it’s my turn to return the favor.” He turns around, gesturing for him over his shoulder, and the feathers follow after him as he steps around his desk for the oasis in the back, Izuku struggles, kicking out and flailing his arms, yelping when the feathers give out, and he drops unceremoniously into the work nest. “This is gonna be good.” He struggles again when the hero flops down into the nest with him, the feathers keep him from moving all too much, hands catch his ankles and guide them back around behind the man and he yelps when he’s tugged forward, legs resting over the hero’s thighs as he’s settled between his legs. “It’s been forever since you pranked me, remember how bad it was last time, need a reminder maybe?”

“No! Nononono!” The teen shakes his head frantically. “I don’t! It was a lapse in judgement!”

“It sure was.” Keigo nods as he pushes his shirt up to uncover his belly. “A huge lapse in judgement.” He raises his hands and the teen giggles frantically as the man’s talons grow out, he’s got a few bad spots, but all around, the talons, anywhere with the talons, was the worst. “One I’ll make sure you regret.”

Izuku sucks in his belly when the hero rests his talons on it, on his lower belly, giggling frantically despite the lack of movement, the talons are the worst, one thousand percent the worst. He shrieks with giggles when they start to scratch lightly, soft feather light scratching, and it’s enough that it drives him insane, as he giggles crazily and yanks at his arms restrained by a number of feathers. “Kehehehehei nohohohoho! Nohohohohot thehehehehee tahahahahhaalons! Ihihihihi’m sohohohohorry!” (Kei no! Not the talons! I’m sorry!”

“Not as sorry as you’re gonna be.” Keigo scratches up the boys belly slowly, nothing harsh, nothing over the top, just light scratching with his talons, and the teen’s already dying, not even a minute into his revenge, and the boy’s already gone. “By the time I’m done with you, you’re not gonna be able to stop from giggling at the mere thought of pranking me again.” He rests at the teen’s lower ribs, scratching lightly, tracing small circles with his index finger talons, and the teen shrieks and squirms, arching to one side, then the other, and arching his back as he presses his chin to his chest. The man scratches over to his sides, and spiders down slowly, before heading back up again, down once more, up again, and down. “Coochie coochie coo, cutie bird.”

The teen squirms from side to side, like a little worm, giggling and shrieking, and shaking his head.

“Wanna play the spider game?”

“Nohoho! Nohhohhohoho pleheheheheease!” (No! No please!) Izuku shrieks and squeals at the mention of that game. “Noohohohohot thehehehehee spiihihihiiider gahahahahhaaame! Pleheheheheease!” (Not the spider game! Please!)

“The itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout.” He spiders his talons up the teen’s sides lightly and scratches lightly at his lower ribs, smiling at the way he shrieks with giggles and struggles against his feathers, shaking his head fondly as he spiders his talons back down. “Down came the rain and washed the spider out.” The man scratches at the boy’s hip bones with his thumb talons and the teen squeals brightly. “Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.” Keigo spiders his talons back up the teen’s side and the boy shrieks, biting his lip against his giggles, before bursting. “And the itsy bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.” He scratches back over his ribs and slowly down his belly, pausing in the middle, scratching at the sides of his tummy. “This is just the warm up, Eyas, we haven’t even gotten to the real punishment and you’re already losing it.”

Izuku is very much aware of this, sir, you don’t need to tell him.

“Okay, I’ve played nice for long enough, let’s get our hands a little dirty now.” The teen shakes his head pleadingly when the hero changes positions, laying over top of him, shrinking his talons for this next part. “Now comes the real punishment.”

He squeals and cackles when ten fingers claw into his left side, twisting up, the hero’s braces his left forearm around his back, and those ten fingers move over to claw into his right side as he squeals with laughter and feels a sense of instant regret. “Keheheheheheeieieieiaiaaahahahhahahahahaha aahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahaha nohhohohohohohohohoho! Pleheheheheheheheeeease! Eieieaiaiaahahahahahahahahhahahahaahaaa aahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahaa aaaahahahahahahhahahahahahhahahahahaaa!” (Kei no! Please!) He falls limply against the arm curled down his back as the hero claws his fingers over his side, up and down, deep and sharp, and he howls, cackling madly, before the arm around his back moves and he makes the mistake of twisting up again, allowing those ten fingers to claw into his left side uninhibited again. “Nohohohohohoo! Eeieieiaaiaahahahahahahahahhahahahaa pleheheheheheease! Pleheheheheheease! Eeaiaiaiahahahahahahhahahahaa ahahahahahahahahhahahahahaa Keheheheheheheheei! Nohohohohoho mohohohohoore! Nohohohohoho mohohohohohore!” (No! Please! Please! Kei! No more! No more!)

“Why not? Does my little cutie bird have ticklish sides?” Keigo smiles at the kid’s bright squeals. “You sure do, cutie bird, you sure do.” He lets the boy fall back onto his back and rests his fingers on his belly. “Now it’s time for this tummy.” The hero pokes around the teen’s belly. “Oh, I’m gonna get this tummy something bad, real good.”

The hero takes a deep breath and bows his head. “Eeieiaiaaiahahahahahahhahahahaa!” Izuku squeals before the man even touches him, watching his blonde head closely, and squeals again when he tilts to the side. “Eeieaiaiahahahahahahahahahahaha!” And again when he tilts to the other side. “Eeieiaiaahahahahahahahahhahhaaha Keheheheheei!” (Kei!) The hero’s just enjoying himself at this point. “Eeieiaiaiaaahahahhahahahahahaa!” He bows his head over his belly button and he squeals louder. “EIEIAIAAIAAAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHHHOHOHO!” (NO!) Keigo blows out lightly over his belly button and he squeals as he arches his back into the man’s lips, to which he curls his arms under him, takes another breath and finally blows the raspberry he’s been teasing him with. “EEIEIAIAIAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHHEHEHEAIEAIAAIAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOOOHOOO KEHEHEHEHEEIIEIEIEIEAEAHAHAHAHHAAHHAHAHAHAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOREEIEEIAIAEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA IHIHIHIHIHIHI’M SOHOHOHOHORRYYY EIEAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHHAHAA NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHEHEERREEIEIEIAIAEAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA NOHOHOHOHOHOT TTHEHEHEIEEIAIAIAIAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!” (No Kei! No more! I’m sorry! Not there not there!)

“Oh,” the hero rubs his nose over his belly and the smile is evident in his voice. “You’re getting at least a dozen raspberries, at least.” He presses a kiss to his belly button and the teen shrieks. “Over this button alone.”

“No! Nohohoho!” Izuku squirms desperately when the man slowly takes a deep breath. “Nonononono! Kei no! Plehehehease! Nooo!” There’s no forewarning, no teasing, the blonde merely buries his face over his belly button and starts on his promised raspberries. “EIEIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEEIEAIAIEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAA PFFFFAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AEEEEIEIAIIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAAA NOHOHOHOHOHOHO PLEHEHEHEHEHEEASEEIIEIEAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA IHIHIHIHHIHI CAHAHAHHAHAAAN’T STAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAND IHIHIHIHIT NOHOHOHOHO EIEIEAIAEIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHA AAHAHAHAHHAAHHHAHAHAA AEIEIEIAAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA HOHOHOHOHOLD IHIHIHIHIT KEHEHEHEHEEI HOHOHOHOHOLD IHIHIHIHIT EIEIEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHA EEIEIEIIAIAEAIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” (No please I cant stand it no hold it kei hold it) Seven in and Izuku feels tears gathering in his eyes. “EIEIEAIIAEAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA EIEIEIAIEAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA KEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEEEI NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHORE NOHOHOHOHOHO MOHOHOHOHOHOREEEIAIAIAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA AEIEIEIAIEAIAAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAAA! NOHOHOHO EIEIEIAIAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA AHAHAEHEEIEIAIAIAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAA WAHAHAHAHAHHAHAAIT YOUHUHUHUHUHUHU SAHAHAHAHAHAAID DOHOHOHOZEEEEIEIEIEAIEAIAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAA AHAAHAHHAHAHAHAEEEIIAEIAIAAIAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA!” (No more no more! No! Wait you said dozen!)

The teenage assistant continues to squeal with laughter as the hero continues blowing raspberries over his belly button, struggling desperately against the feathers holding his arms in place, it takes a few minutes of button raspberries before he starts screaming for help, which makes the man laugh into his belly, which makes him squeal again.

“No one’s coming to help you, little bird.” Keigo turns his head slightly. “It’s just you and me.”

“Keheheheei plehehehehease! I cahahahahan’t! I cahahahahan’t tahahahaake ihihihit!” (Kei please! I can’t! I can’t take it!) Izuku pleads through his giggles. “Nohohoho mohohohore! Ihihihit tihihihickles! Ihihihit tihihihickles sohohoho bahahahad! Nohohoho mohohohore raahahahahhaspberries!” (No more! It tickles! It tickles so bad! No more raspberries!)

“No more?” He wiggles a finger in the teen’s belly button and the boy squeals with laughter once more, squirming from side to side, arching his back into it, tears finally falling from his eyes. “Fine, fine, no more raspberries, but you get six minutes of this before I’m done.” Was it a tad mean, yes, yes it was, but so was making him think that the kid he was so incredibly fond of, his little baby bird, was dying and dead. “You better think twice before you decide you’re gonna prank me like this again.”

#ticklish!deku #ticklish!midoriya #parental hawks #deku and hawks #tickle monster hawks #tickle fic #hawks #mha hawks #ler!takamikeigo #ler!hawks #lee!deku #lee!midoriya #pranks #fake death #Dont prank hawks #Youve been warned #request

[just-here-for-the-moment]

Congrats on the followers my friend!! You deserve all of them and many more!

I'd like to request a little something with Javier Peña, with the prompt "I can't stop thinking about you" (from dialogue prompts to make readers swoon). I'll let you decide how sweet or spicy it is, just however it strikes you. 😘

Thank you, and congrats again!!

Oh my gosh, JEN!!!! I love you so much! I hope you enjoy this slow-burn, sprinkling-of-angst-with a happy ending!

Here is a sweet "confessional" story for Javier x female DEA agent under the cut!!

The bar was half-empty, or half-full, you weren’t quite sure. And maybe it didn’t matter anyway, since you only had eyes for the man with the mustache across the table from you. He stubbed out his 5th (or was it 6th?) cigarette of the night into the amber glass ashtray on the table. You watched him purse those perfect lips and blow the stream of smoke up and away from the booth. His coffee-brown eyes came back to yours, the depths of them muted in the blue neon lights. You stared just a beat too long, and then blinked.

You shifted your attention to the table and stirred the last of your drink with your straw, watching the half-melted ice swirl in a lazy circle. Maybe tonight you would tell him how you felt. You lifted your eyes just in time to see Javier turn his head away from you to watch a very attractive woman walk by. He followed her with his eyes until she was out the front door.

Maybe not.

Javier turned back to you and waved over your head at the waitress for another round.

“You really want to stay?” You couldn’t hide the little bladed edge of irritation in your voice. Whether you stayed at the bar or not, you didn’t want to be around Javier any longer than you had to. You saw enough of him at work, and you weren’t interested in being his ‘pity date’ on a Friday night just because Steve couldn’t make it out for drinks.

Javier frowned at you, “I thought we were supposed to be celebrating tonight, amiga. Big win with the arrest warrant this week, remember? Why are you so cranky?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, and then rubbed your tired eyes. “It’s been a long week, and I just don’t feel very festive tonight. Okay?”

The waitress brought your drinks and Javier tossed a few bills on her tray. You picked up your third drink (fourth?) and watched Javier watch the waitress walk away. You downed your drink in record time and stood. “Right, I’m going home.”

“Already? We just got here.”

You snapped, “No, you just got here, I’ve been here all night, watching you watch other women. Not as much fun for me as it was for you. I’m done.”

You made for the ladies room and peed, then sat there for an extra two minutes, hoping that Javi would be gone by the time you got back out. You only got up when another woman needed the stall. You washed your hands as slowly as you dared, then dried them carefully and reapplied your lip balm at a snail’s pace. The face in the mirror looking back at you was your own, just sadder and more tired than you had seen her in a while.

When you finally emerged, Javier was right there waiting for you. He was leaning back against the wall opposite the ladies room, arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. Anyone who didn’t know him well would have thought he looked casual. You knew he was pissed off. The moment you swung the ladies room door open and stepped out, his dark eyes were on yours. It took your breath away, just for a moment, but that was long enough for him to unfold himself and take your upper arm in his strong grip.

“I’ll make sure you get home safe. I can’t let you travel home this late by yourself, Agent.” Agent. Fuck, he really was pissed.

You didn’t argue, partly because you knew he was in that mood, and partly because of the sensation of his hand, large and warm, wrapped firmly around your arm just above your elbow. It wasn’t painful, but something about feeling how strong his hands were, how he gripped you sent your mind running to the same places it had been running to for months.

Javier propelled you out of the bar to his car, opening the front passenger side door and standing like a sentry until you were tucked in and belted, then he closed the door with a pop. Neither one of you spoke until he parked the car on the ground floor of the garage at the DEA apartment block. Your apartment was just down the hall from Steve and Connie, two floors up from Javier. It was cozy, mostly. Nice to have neighbors who you already knew. Not nice when someone had a crush on someone else and couldn’t avoid them.

Javier turned the engine off and broke the silence first, “I’ll walk you to your door.”

You bit your lips together and nodded, sucking in a deep breath through your nose. Bad idea. The smell of Javier settled deep in your sinuses and stayed there: his cologne and cigarettes and the breath mint he was chewing, and something uniquely him, all of them mixing and intensified in the still air of the car. You blew the long breath out through your mouth and it took most of your hurt feelings with it.

You turned to him but you both spoke at the same time and chaos reigned for a moment.

“Why didn’t you want me looking at-”

“I’m sorry, Javi, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, you go first-”

“No, you can- Wait, what?”

Normally you would have laughed together and cleared the air, one of you deferring to the other to speak first. This time there was something tense. You had been on the verge of apologizing for snapping at him, a means of smoothing things over while sweeping your own discomfort under the rug. You’d hoped that if you could apologize for being sharp, you could get back to ‘normal’ and just be work partners. Like how it was before your heart got in the way. You thought maybe if you just did that enough, buried everything deeply enough, Javier would never guess how you felt.

And if Javier had been any other man, that might have worked. But he wasn’t the type to feign shyness to help ease your own shyness. Another man might have chuckled and looked away from you, played with his hands on the steering wheel to pass a few awkward seconds. Javier used those deep brown eyes to pierce your defenses and asked you the direct question you had been dreading since your outburst at the bar.

“Why didn’t you want me to look at other women?”

You paused, keeping your breathing even. You blinked a few times but you didn’t look away.

“I don’t care. Look at whoever you want. It’s none of my business.” A lie. And he knew it. And worse yet, you knew that he knew it.

“No amiga, you do care. Or at least you did half an hour ago.” You hated how intense he could be, so calm on the outside while he drew secrets out of panicked people via interrogation. “What is it that you don’t want me to know? What are you not telling me?”

“Nothing.” You put a hard backing to your next words. “Drop it.”

You turned and opened your door, not waiting for Javier to follow as you speed-walked from his car across the parking garage. You slammed through the door to the lobby and took the stairs two at a time to your floor, telling yourself it was necessary exercise, part of staying in shape for foot chases… not avoidance, not the fear of facing Javier and telling him your embarrassing truth. You heard his footsteps land a moment behind yours, and you didn’t bother holding the stairwell door for him. He caught it on the backswing and was just a step behind you as you approached your door.

“I can get inside from here just fine. Good night.” You spoke your words to the keys in your hand, to your doormat, anywhere but to him.

He reached a hand out to hold your wrist, and it was the most gentle touch he had ever laid on you. It matched his low murmur of, “Hey. Wait…”

You turned to face him, and you opened your mouth to repeat the lies, the denials, to try to say something that would brush over tonight’s embarrassment with a clean sweep and let you face yourself and him in the morning. But the look on his face, the way his eyes were soft instead of probing, the whisper of his touch on your wrist when normally he was rough with his high fives and his handshakes… suddenly your voice didn’t work.

Javier looked at you the way that you had hoped for months that he would look at you, but it wasn’t how you wanted this to go. This painful reveal of innermost secrets and feelings. You wanted him to want you, to be bowled over by you, not to pity you or treat you like an idiot. But still, that look on his face, it struck something deep within you and you decided that you would take that look however you could get it.

You opened your mouth to speak and so did Javier, but this time instead of speaking at cross purposes, instead of a jumble of words tumbling into each other, you both said the exact same thing...

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Heat rose in your face at your own admission, at your absolute sureness that he would peel away from you, be upset at you for feeling too much, but the minute you realized his own words had matched yours, you felt the heat in your face ebb away, and before you could process it, before you could think, Javier mumbled a quick, “Fuck it,” and then his hand was on your waist and you were being pulled into his arms and you just went limp and let him kiss you.

The instant his second kiss landed, your brain came back to life and you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him as deeply as you could, not breaking off even when your next-door neighbor’s apartment door opened, not when it closed again with a soft bang, and not until you felt Javier’s erection grazing your hip.

You finally broke the kiss, breathing out a high-pitched, “Inside?”

Javier grabbed you firmly around the waist and pulled you tighter. “Inside.” His voice was nearly a growl, and you felt your panties get hot and wet.

You took Javier inside your apartment, slamming the door behind you. And you finally confessed everything, with your lips and your body and your legs wrapped around him until the small hours of the morning.

#JHFTM 300 followers celebration #you ask and JHFTM delivers! #javier pena x female reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x reader #Javier pena x reader #javier pena fic

[hoe-doroki]

Can I have a bakugou smut where he had just come home from a hard day and he needs to blow off some steam and the reader has been horny all day so she/they do whatever he says. Sorry if this was long, it's ok if you don't do it. Thank you 🙏❤

Omg, not too long at all! Seriously, for requests for me, generally the more details the better, especially for what kinks you may or may not like, because then I can better cater it to you! Since you didn’t specify, you’re stuck with choking, degradation, and exhibitionism, because I like them, oops. Sorry it’s taken me so long to write this—I’ve been so excited about it the whole time but…there’s no but, I just didn’t write it until now 🤷‍♀️

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, degradation, choking, biting/marking, slight possessiveness

wc: 3.1k

a/n: Thanks to @dymphnasprose for making this gorgeous banner for me!

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You heard him before you saw him.

It was the ding of the elevator that was first audible from the dining room table where you were working on your computer. Then you heard the heavy clomp of Katsuki’s boots coming down the hallway, already painting a picture of a frustrating day on the job.

When he shouldered his way in the front door, you saw that he was still in his full hero uniform. The roots of his hair were dark with sweat and Katsuki’s ire seemed to have made it all the way down to his fingertips, where he was clumsily batting at his shoelaces. As if anger and a glare would force them undone quicker than a nimble touch.

“Rough day?” you commented, standing up from the dark mahogany table and walking over to your boyfriend. Your hands were on your hips as you looked down at where he was bent over in the entryway.

He grunted as he cast his boot off. If he were outside, that shoe would have been flung halfway down the block, possibly with smoke coming off it. Inside your home, however, even the angriest Katsuki could only manage an angry shove before moving onto his next obstacle.

You didn’t press for more. You just watched as the second boot came off and your boyfriend stood up, knees cracking. He probably hadn’t so much as stretched at the end of his shift. He looked wound tight in every way, from his clenching fingers to the tension scrunching his face.

“Fucking cops stole the villain from under my nose,” Katsuki said.

The kitchen was just a few steps away, so you filled a glass of water and offered it to him. He downed it in a few gulps and was probably just a couple measures of force short from breaking the glass as he smacked it back down on the counter.

“But they were captured?” you asked. “That’s good.”

“The only good thing about it is that now they’re the ones that have to do the paperwork,” Katsuki growled. “I told fucking five-head that if I’m not needed, I might as well come home.”

Five-head was the name Katsuki used for his manager—with a deeply receding hairline—at the agency. Fortunately, Katsuki had only let the nickname slip to the guy’s face…a handful of times.

“Sounds like a rough day,” you said as Katsuki took his gauntlets off, treating them with more care than he had his boots. “You know, I’ve been a little bit…frustrated today too.”

Katsuki’s eyes, piercing when outlined by the dark cling of his mask, flicked towards you, hearing your intentionally placed drawl immediately. “That so?”

His tone was suspicious. Maybe it should have been, by the upward pull on your lips as you leaned in close to him, stroking his arm, still hot and damp from a day on patrol.

“Yeah.” You pouted, making your tone intentionally whiny as you blinked big, round eyes at him. “Or do you not remember this morning?”

That morning had been on your mind all fucking day. Katsuki’s alarm had woken you up, as it always did, and after the ringing had faded from your ears, your body had honed in on a different sense. Specifically, the morning wood that had been pressing hard against your ass. The boner that you’d wiggled back against, moaning as you trailed your fingers up and down your boyfriend’s arm—not unlike you were right now. Katsuki had kissed you on the cheek, and then on the mouth, and you’d expected a quickie before work. You’d felt yourself growing wet at the possibility, your cheeks heating at his touch.

But then he’d pulled away and left the room before you could so much as whimper in protest. It was like he hadn’t even noticed. Like his dick hadn’t been the one to start it.

You watched the memory from many hours ago work its way onto Katsuki’s face. An eyebrow rose—you could tell even from under the mask—and a low fire lit behind his eyes. “That?”

You leaned into his ear, latching yourself around his side so that your thigh just brushed against his groin and whispered, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“Always so fucking desperate for me, huh?” Katsuki rasped, grabbing your thigh with his gloved hand and wrapping your leg around his waist. “You’re lucky I’m not cooled down yet.”

When his lips met yours, they were aggressive, pent up. You could taste the salt of forgotten trails of sweat that had run from his mask down his lips. He smelled manly with it, and smoky from his quirk.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard you forget about this morning,” Katsuki said roughly before digging his teeth into your neck.

“All talk?” you asked your voice coming out as a gasp.

You were met with Katsuki placing both of his large hands on your ass, pressing your core against his hardening length. The pants on his hero costume were loose enough that he had room to grow and tent—or he would, if you weren’t grinding down on him without any pretense hiding your desperation.

Then, he let go of you. His hands were gone from your ass, mouth abandoning your neck. Without his support, you stumbled back, looking at him in confusion.

Katsuki, however, was grinning at you, lips shiny and flushed pink. “Strip for me, baby.”

After Katsuki’s inadvertent tease that morning, you hadn’t been able to help yourself and had dressed a little sexier than usual. You weren’t going to let Katsuki ignore you this time around.

You took off your clothes piece by piece, your eyes lingering on the garments and then flicking up to Katsuki, taking him in as he unzipped his pants and pulled his fat cock out. He stroked himself until you were left in nothing but a matching bra and panty set. Both were orange, matching the X over his chest and the palms of the gloves he’d just slapped to the floor.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, taking a step toward you, hand never leaving his cock, “this is just what I needed.”

You were prepared to drop to your knees, stretch your mouth around that juicy cock, already glistening with precum right at the tip. Katsuki followed your gaze and caught your chin with just one finger, forcing your eyes up to his.

“There’s no need for that, sweetness,” he said. “Apparently, you’ve been patient all day. So if you’re a good girl and do what I say, you can have this cock right away. How’s that sound?”

“Good,” you said, nodding eagerly.

“Right answer,” Katsuki said, moving his hand to run his thumb under the band of your bra. His hand was feathering over the clasp when, suddenly, he snapped the elastic, earning a yelp out of you. “Now fucking strip.”

You removed your bra in a hurry, then your panties, leaving yourself totally bare to Katsuki’s roving eyes. Meanwhile, he was still dressed in the entirety of his hero costume, save for his boots, gloves and gauntlets. The spikes behind his mask were still in place, as was his belt. The only thing unusual was his thick cock hanging out of those black pants.

“Good girl,” Katsuki whispered. “Now be a good little slut and open the curtains.”

You stared at Katsuki for a moment. The windows took up the whole wall, floor to ceiling of your main living space. You lived near the top of your building—with the curtains open, you would barely be visible to the street, unless someone had a zoom quirk. But there were neighboring skyscrapers that would offer a view right into your apartment.

However, Katsuki didn’t have patience to spare today.

“I’ll go into our room and cum on my fucking hand if you don’t open the curtains.”

His eyes were stern, but not hard. Behind his mask, there was enough openness that you knew if you said your safe word he’d pull you into him, apologize into your neck just loud enough for you to hear, and make love to you slowly in missionary on your bed with all the windows drawn.

But this wasn’t a missionary kind of day.

You cocked your chin and walked past the leather couch and dining table over to the window. The curtains were drawn so that there wouldn’t be a glare on your laptop, but now you opened them, slowly but steadily. On your high floor, the afternoon sun was on the same plane as you. It was catching those late afternoon shades of bright orange that draped you in strands of golden luxe.

“You like that?” Katsuki asked when you looked over your shoulder, looking perhaps a little too self-satisfied. “You like everyone seeing what a slut you are? How fucking gorgeous you are?”

You could only moan as Katsuki came up behind you, catching your bare breasts in both hands and rocking his cock against your ass, just like that morning, but without the separation of your clothes.

“The thing is, sweetheart,” Katsuki whispered between kisses on your already bruising neck, “if anyone’s gonna see you like this, they’re gonna haveta see that you belong to me.”

One of Katsuki’s hands drifted back to his cock and slid it between your legs, through the stickiness that was already clinging to your thighs. He kicked your legs wider to make room for himself, thrusting between your pussy lips, forcing you to lean forward against the window for leverage. His dick dragged against your clit very intentionally, pulling groans out of you as your hips naturally rocked with his.

“So wet already,” Katsuki commented. “You really have been desperate for my cock all day, haven’t you? Did you touch yourself waiting for me?”

You’d thought about it. When Katsuki had left and you’d still felt that initial heat between your legs, you’d considered pulling out your wand and cumming against its rumbly, reliable vibrations. Your fingers had been itching for it, pussy craving the speedy finish it would provide.

“No,” you whined. “I didn’t.”

“Good girl.”

Your forehead fell against the window, eyes closed in the bright sunlight as the meaty head of his cock began to split you open.

“This what you wanted?”

“Yes,” you breathed, leaning your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as he sunk into you. He claimed to be rewarding you for your patience all day, yet was going slow enough for you to feel every inch. You squeezed around him purposefully, trying to suck him in faster. He acted like he didn’t notice.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Katsuki said when he finally bottomed out. He sat there for a moment, kissing your neck as you continued to flutter hopelessly around him. Then he pulled out and rammed back into you in one go, nearly knocking the wind out of you.

Katsuki cackled, squeezing the meat of your thighs in both hands as he pounded into you. “Do you really think I’d do this for everyone to see if I was going to do anything less than fuck your brains out?”

All that powerlessness that Katsuki had felt at work was now being turned around into sheer might—metabolized frustration being taken out on your poor pussy. He hadn’t been able to capture that villain, but now he had you in his clutches. That unutilized strength was forcing your breasts and one cheek flat against the glass as he let your body have it.

“Katsuki,” you whined. “More.”

“So desperate and needy today, aren’t we sweetness?” Katsuki said, driving his hips forward even harder. You could feel one of the grenades on his belt smacking dangerously against your ass. It was like Dynamight had found you on the street and dragged you down a back alley to fuck while on patrol. “Lucky for you, you’re asking for something I want too.”

You’d riled something up in Katsuki. In a mood like this, he might use you, cream his cock deep inside you and let you think that he was gonna leave you like that for a good few minutes before finishing you off on his tongue or his fingers, or going another round. But it seemed as though you’d just managed to maneuver yourself onto his good side today. He wanted the satisfaction of you squeezing around him, milking his cum out of him at least once.

One of Katsuki’s hands crept up your side until it reached your neck, gripping around it but not yet pressing in. His lips were on your ear, biting your lobe before whispering, “Is this what you wanted?”

“Yes.”

The end of the word came out as a hiss as Katsuki’s thick fingers closed around your throat. His other hand crept to the front of your pubic bone, flattening the hair there as the tip of his pinky reached just above your clit. Intentionally not making contact under the guise of just being able to hold you closer to his driving hips.

Your face grew hot as Katsuki pressed against your windpipe, against the veins so that you felt your throttled heartbeat begin its desperate dance. As your breath grew short, everything became sharper. Katsuki’s cock hitting right against your g-spot suddenly hit less like sparks and more like a thick stroke of fire with every go.

“You like that, huh?” Katsuki taunted as he pulled your neck against his shoulder, his thumb and middle finger nearly meeting behind your neck. “You like me fucking choking you for the world to see? So everyone can see what a dirty whore you are?”

It wasn’t like you could respond with his hand that tight around your throat. You could do little more than whimper, the vibrations buzzing against the rough calluses on his palm.

“Heh, that’s what I fucking thought.”

The power trip only seemed to be stoking Katsuki’s spirit as he pounded you unabashedly in the window. You were bracing yourself with one forearm but used the other to rest on top of the hand he had just over your sex. You just wanted to urge him just a few more millimeters south. A few blessed moments of contact on your aching clit would tip you over the edge, you were sure. But Katsuki only pushed you forward, trapping your hand and his against the cold glass, condensation framing around your hot touch.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice low and so far from apologetic. “I thought it was this cock you were so desperate for? And here I am, already so generous with my hand on your beautiful throat. ‘S that not enough for you or something?”

It wasn’t, and he knew it. His cock hitting your sweet spot and his hand keeping you just on this side of passed out would edge you from now until eternity. It would leave you burning in your core, dripping down your thighs, and desperate to cum until your dying breath. But it would never have you squeezing around him, never falling boneless against his chest. Not if he didn’t touch you.

Just when you were giving up, just when you were able to focus on little more than your head growing light, your vision narrowing on the blades of orange light on the buildings in front of you, Katsuki’s last three fingers came together, threading through your fuzz before they swiped furiously over your clit.

You jerked forward so hard Katsuki lost his grip on your neck, allowing you to cry out full throated as your orgasm took over, crashing into you with more power than you’d felt in months. Air felt like water as you gasped, nonsense falling from your lips as your thighs shook and Katsuki wrapped his now free hand around your waist to keep you upright.

Your raucous orgasm had Katsuki was groaning too, barely leaving your cunt as the last couple thrusts urged his seed out of him, painting your walls before you were done quivering yourself. Your cheek was flat against the glass as Katsuki leaned his forehead against you, breathing heavily once his orgasm had washed over him.

“Shit, how’s a guy not supposed to bust when you do that,” he said, slipping out of you and placing a chaste kiss on your shoulder. “Clamping around me like a fucking vice and screaming like that. If the neighbors didn’t see you, they sure fucking heard you.”

You might have mindlessly apologized, if you weren’t still struggling to get your breath back under you, your own recovery taking much longer than Katsuki’s. You felt him leave your back, your eyes blinking open to see the translucent reflection of him leaving the window as the sun fell behind one of the city’s many skyscrapers.

A moment later, you felt a washcloth between your legs, swiping at the combined cum that was already dribbling down your thigh. The cloth slowly trailed up and you shivered when Katsuki softly swiped it over your too sensitive pussy. Then the washcloth was gone from his hands and he was on your shoulders, gently kneading out the tension there as you lolled your head side to side to stretch.

“God, I needed that,” Katsuki said quietly. “You alright?”

“Yeah, that was amazing,” you replied, your voice raspy but dreamy as you began your slow descent back to Earth.

“Course it was.”

You turned around, raising an unamused eyebrow at Katsuki’s smirk and then walked back over to the corner of the room to pull the blinds back in place. Now that your lust was receding, you had no interest in flashing your tits and wrecked pussy to the neighbors.

“God, I need to take a fucking shower,” Katsuki said as he started dismantling his costume, starting with his mask. He hardly seemed to notice as he took off his neck brace and then his tank that he was giving you the exact same kind of strip tease that you’d given him just a few minutes ago.

“A shower?” you asked coquettishly as you sidled over to the dining table he was placing his costume onto. “Might there be room for two in this shower?”

“No,” Katsuki answered quickly, placing his grenades one by one on his shirt so they wouldn’t roll away. He didn’t so much as glance at you.

“No?”

Katsuki looked serious as he kept his eyes focused on his task, bending down to unstrapping his knee pads. When he stood up straight again, his grin was devilish.

“I think I like it better when you’re frustrated.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #ask ana #not/sfw #katsuki smut #mha smut

[vukovich]

peculiar prompts: fuck or die, but their dicks get bigger every second

A Mounting Problem

"Don't eat those." Ron came around the bend in the trail. Draco scoffed and picked several more scarlet berries, adding them to the pile in Harry's outstretched shirt.

"They're wild cherries," Harry said.

"This," Ron swept his arm out over the lush valley, "is an old wizarding land preserve." He pointed at the thorny bush. "And those are twiggenberries, not cherries."

Draco stuck his tongue out and blew a raspberry. "Are, too."

"What would you know about foraging, Malfoy? You hadn't eaten a meal outdoors until this week."

Draco scrunched his face up and mimicked Ron.

"Fine." Ron adjusted his pack and side-stepped around them. "Don't be late to the top of the rise. And don't eat those berries til you're back home. Alone."

"Yes, Father," Draco said snidely to Ron's retreating back.

Harry pretended to gag.

"Heard that!" Came Ron's voice.

--

Harry swatted a mosquito against the inside of the tent and shot Draco a triumphant grin, but Draco's attention was on the bag of berries in his lap.

"Ron said not to eat those here."

"Ron says a lot of things. I'm hungry." He crossed his outstretched legs over his sleeping bag and Harry wondered if he shouldn't hand-feed Draco.

"Someone failed to guard the camp from raccoons." Draco popped a big, glossy berry in his mouth. "And someone cost us what smelled like a wonderful crockpot of chili."

"I said I was hanging back to take a nap, and I did. I didn't know none of you latched the crockpot." Harry rolled onto his side and clicked a small lantern on. "Give me one."

Harry opened his mouth and flicked his gaze back and forth between the berries and Draco's eyes. Draco let him look like a confused fish for a few moments before selecting a berry.

They were large, for wild berries. Almost like small plums, but a bit more pointed at one end, and deep red. Draco traced it over Harry's bottom lip before shoving it in, and then followed with his fingers for good measure.

Harry grunted in surprise, but sucked Draco's fingers clean before biting into the berry. It popped open in a rush of cloyingly-sweet bubblegum, and broke against the roof of his mouth like an overripe grape. He grabbed a bottle of water from the foot of his sleeping back to dilute the overwhelming taste.

Draco smirked and shoved what had to be his fourth or fifth one into his mouth.

"You can have the rest," Harry said, capping his water and laying down.

He clicked off the light, and Draco sealed the bag and laid down next to him. Harry started drifting off almost immediately, but Draco tossed and turned.

Harry cracked an eye and was met with Draco's eyes glinting in the filtered moonlight. "Do you think they're awake?"

"Ron and Hermione?"

"No, the wampus cats. Of course Ron and Hermione."

"Probably not. I think they hiked twelve miles today. Why?"

Draco walked fingers over their sleeping bags toward Harry's chest, and then diverted southward.

"No reason..."

"They're heavy sleepers."

"Mm hm..."

Draco tugged at the drawstring on Harry's pajama bottoms. Harry bit back a smile and let him pick at the knot until Draco started muttering swear words under his breath.

Harry rolled on his back and unceremoniously shucked his pants and pajamas off, and threw his t-shirt on the pile at the foot of his sleeping bag.

He couldn't read Draco's expression, so he clicked the lantern back on. Wonderment. Draco was staring at Harry's dick in absolute wonderment. Harry was flattered, then aroused, but then mildly alarmed, because Draco just kept staring.

Harry glanced down and didn't see anything more interesting than his own erection, and still Draco watched it, and Harry watched him. But... why would he be hard already?

Harry wrapped a hand around his semi-hard dick, but his fingers only just met around it. That wasn't right.

Draco tilted his head to one side. "I think those were psychedelic berries."

"Oh, shit," Harry whispered. He worked his fist over the head of his cock, just in case this turned out to be a really good trip. "Oh... shiiiiit. How many did you eat?"

"Five?" Draco licked his lips. "Your dick looks bigger."

Harry stopped stroking. "I think it is bigger."

Harry's thumb and middle finger couldn't touch, and felt like they were actively being pushed way. The skin of his cock grew achingly tight and over-sensitive.

"Shit. What do we do?"

Draco scooted closer. "I can think of several things to do."

Panic rose a cold sweat over Harry's chest. "What should we do?"

"Again, I can think of-"

"RON!" Harry shouted.

A rustle in the other tent, followed by a groan, and "Wassit?"

Draco leaned down slowly, eyes on Harry, sneaking his mouth closer to Harry's dick and fooling no one.

"What do those berries do?" Harry shouted, then swallowed a whimper as Draco's lips spread over the head of his cock.

"The fuck you think a twiggenberry does?" Ron grumbled. An owl hooted nearby. "You didn't eat one, did you?"

"Uhm." Draco's tongue against the tight-stretched skin was already too much. "Yes."

"Guess it could be worse. You gotta get somebody to help you blow your load before your dick drains your blood supply." The owl hooted again, and it sounded rather concerned. "Doesn't work if you do it on your own."

Draco slurped enthusiastically and winked.

"Sounds like you've got it under control. And I've got ear plugs. Good thing you only ate one. G'night."

"Ron! RON!" Harry tugged Draco up by the hair. "Shit. Now what?"

Draco held Harry's gaze while he slid his tongue out and prodded Harry's dick with the tip. "Mm?"

Harry nodded and tried to relax as Draco's mouth enveloped him. He blew out a long breath and forced himself to not think about anything but the wet heat sliding over his cock. Not about dying with an enormous dick hanging out. Merlin help him if Dumbledore met him on a platform in this condition.

Draco shifted, snuck a hand in his own pajamas, and moaned around Harry's cock.

"Fuck," Harry whispered. Draco's shoulder shook as he stroked himself in time to his mouth on Harry. He moaned again, and tension build at the base of Harry's cock. "Fuck, I'm gonna come."

Draco wrapped both hands around Harry's thick length, and the pressure in his hips broke, spilling into Draco's mouth. Harry's breath shuddered out as Draco slowed, swallowed, and grinned at him.

"I've got something for you." He rose up on his knees and Harry's dick gave a feeble throb at the size of the tent in Draco's pants. "Roll over, size queen."

It wasn't that Draco wasn't well-endowed. He was... fine. But Harry's tastes ran... larger. A lot larger. Like the bludger bat of a cock Draco was wrangling out of his shorts.

Draco reached into a bag, then tossed a tube of lube on Harry's pillow. That dick was so perfect Harry could have cried. And he did.

Tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. Draco straddled Harry's thighs and plopped down, massive erection slapping against Harry's spent cock.

"Uhm... What's wrong?"

"I ate-" Harry sobbed. "-the chili."

"Okaayyyy..." Draco shook his head and waited for Harry to explain, but comprehension bloomed over Draco's face. "There were no raccoons?! Harry James Potter, you ate half a crockpot of chili and blamed raccoons?!"

Harry nodded and hid his face in the crook of his elbow.

"I HAD TO EAT BONER BERRIES FOR DINNER AND NOW YOUR VERY FUCKABLE ARSE IS FULL OF CHILI?!"

Harry nodded again. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, I am not putting my dick in that."

"I'm really, really sorry."

"I'll bet you are." He felt Draco's breath against his ear. "Sorry you're not getting your greedy little hole stretched open by this."

Draco pressed his cock along Harry's abdomen for emphasis. He ran his chin down Harry's jawline and sighed. "Wanker."

Harry moved his arms, sniffled, and snuck a kiss on Draco's nose before he sat back up. "I guess wanking, it is. I don't think I can fit it in my mouth."

Draco walked his knees up to Harry's waist and sat on his flaccid dick. Hard.

"I always had a theory that Parseltongues could unhinge their jaws like snakes."

Harry only half-heard Draco, because the dick sitting on his chest was fucking amazing. It was still Draco's, but huge. He would have gladly impaled himself on this beast of a dong, but no. The chili had smelled too damn good.

Draco flipped the cap on the lube open and emptied it out on what was rapidly becoming a third leg. Harry wrapped both hands around it, and the overlap of his fingers shrank as he watched.

He stroked, slow and steady, trying to keep a familiar routine in a very new situation. Draco's head lolled to the side, and his lips pressed against his own shoulder. Harry smiled softly and tightened his grip. Even full of dick-enhancing berries, Draco couldn't come without his lips against bare skin, even if it was his own.

Draco tilted forward, but caught himself. He wavered above Harry.

"I'm dizzy."

Harry looked up and met glassy, vacant eyes. His fingers barely met around the dick in his hands.

"Oh, shit." His mind raced. "Lay down. Lay down on me right now."

Draco fell forward, chest on Harry's face. Harry grabbed Draco's hips and pushed him down until their lips met. "Shit. Draco, stay awake."

Draco hummed against Harry's lips, and Harry stroked dick like Draco's life depended on it. Up and over the swelling head, thumbs working the underside of Draco's cock until Draco's back stiffened.

Cool lips found Harry's, and Draco whimpered, hitched, and the dick in Harry's hands throbbed. Hot rivulets flowed through his fingers, and he absently thought a cock that big should put out a whole lot more come than this.

Draco sighed into Harry's neck. "That was good."

Harry slid his hands out from between them and wiped them on Draco's arse. "That was close, is what that was."

"Mm hm."

"Are you just going to fall asleep on top of me?"

"Mm hm."

--

Harry woke at dawn to a startled owl hoot, a scuffle outside his tent, and then the walls of the tent shaking violently. He popped up on his knees to look through the mesh window.

The sun was just peeking over the treetops, and Hermione stood outside, hands on their tent, hair in a tight braid, dressed for a hike already.

"Get up, losers! We're going berry-picking!"

#peculiar prompts #drarry #drarry smut #drarry crack #fuck or die #size kink #hbd fwoosharoo

[mmvalentine]

Hi, it's CoN rhys and First Kiss anon, come to terrorise you with more weird promp requests😈haha. Okay so like no pressure at all lol, but would you consider maybe writing a Hades/Persephone type fic for Feysand? You're such a brilliant writer and I love all your fics. But seriously no pressure at all. Bye! 🖤

Hello sweet thing! I finally got inspired to start on this after reading @asteria-of-mars's latest masterpiece, and I have to say I'm enjoying it! I think you're my lucky charm anon because your other prompts First Fall and Fuck You, Feyre Darling are now two of my favourites. Anyway here's a soft and Gods inspired piece x

Pomegranate Part 1

Rhysand strolls through along the border of the Spring Court and gazes over the fields of flowers. Although he will always favour his own territory, even the Lord of Night has to admit that Spring is pretty.

It is twilight now and the dusk is settling in. The girl in the field notices Rhys watching her, and smiles shyly. He lifts a hand, and she walks over to him.

“Hello you,” she says. Her voice is soft and high, like falling petals, and it seems to reach right into Rhys.

“Hello little one,” he says back.

“I’ve seen you walking around here,” the girl tells him. “Do you come to see the wildflowers?”

“Yes,” Rhys replies, “although there is one particular blossom that is much more beautiful than the rest.” His eyes wander to the fresh bloom on her cheek, and he is not lying.

The girl drops her gaze as she smiles, and the loss of her blue-grey eyes is more than Rhys can bear. His hand darts out of its own accord, and gently lifts her chin.

“You have such stormy eyes, for a season so tranquil,” he says. She ignores him.

“I know who you are,” she tells him. “My father says to stay away from you.” Rhys’s brow furrows.

“Your father… did not like my father.” His face lightens. “Then again, I did not much like him either.” He grins, and the daughter of Spring tilts her head to one side to watch him. “And you?” he says. “What is your name?”

The girl feigns scandal. “What a question!” she says in mock horror. “Give you my name, so you might enchant me to follow you?” Rhys’s lips curl upward.

“I could just steal you away right now. No one would know.”

“My father would come after you.”

“How would he know it was me?”

“Because he didn’t like your father.”

Rhys’s eyes light. “But he might like me if he got to know me. Many find that they do.”

“I can’t imagine why.”

Rhys is grinning again now, despite himself. He puts his hands in his pockets.

“But you know my name?”

“Yes Rhysand, I do.”

“Mm. It sounds so good when you say it.”

“Well maybe I’ll have you follow me around.”

“I might do it anyway.”

“Still think my father might like you?”

“I’m not scared of old Tambourine.”

The girl giggles at that, and the sound of it rings in Rhys’s ears for minutes after.

“I’ll tell you what,” she says. “Come and see me tomorrow. If I spend a bit more time with you I might decide to trust you with my name.”

“Spend time with me now, I’m not doing anything.”

“Well I am,” she says. “Now go away and leave me be.”

“I don’t think I can leave my court two evenings in a row.”

“Then you’ll never know my name.”

“But that’s hardly fair!” Rhys protests. “You already know my name, should I not have something of yours?”

“Fine,” she says, and steps in close. Rhys barely has time to be surprised, before she stands up on her tip-toes and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Now you have something of mine too.”

And with that she wanders off, leaving Rhys standing in the field of flowers with his fingers on his face.

//

The next day, Rhys walks through the Spring field but didn’t see the girl. He thinks about the way that he had teased her, and wonders if she might have stayed home and laughed at him. Then something grabs his ankle, and he almost falls.

“Hello you,” the girl says. Rhys stares down at where she is lying amongst the long stems.

“My favourite flower,” he said. “I almost stepped on you.”

“The evening is warm, come and lie down with me.”

Rhys glances around, and finds the field empty again. He gets down on the ground and lays his long legs out beside her. Above them, the sky is peaches and cream.

“Why are we lying on the ground?” Rhys asks. The girl surprises him again by taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his.

“Because from here you can hear things growing in the earth,” she says. “Listen.”

She closes her eyes and breathes deeply. Rhys tries to listen too, but is distracted by the freckled serenity of her pale face in the stretching shadows.

“You’re not listening,” the girl scolds, without opening her eyes. “Don’t you know it’s rude to stare? We hardly know each other.”

“But you’re holding my hand,” Rhys points out. Now she does look at him, and he could drown in the ocean of her eyes.

“I’m a child of Spring,” she says, and then gives him a smile so lovely his heart breaks. “And Spring is the season for love.” He falls for her, just a little, right then and there.

Rhys rolls onto his side, and brings his thumb to her lower lip without letting go of her hand.

“My court is Night,” he said. “No wonder we’re friends.”

The girl shoves Rhys lightly in the chest. “Night is for lust, not love,” she teases. “And we’re not friends yet.” She goes to pull her hand out of his, but Rhys catches it back and she lets him.

“Then tell me how I can be your friend.” The girl’s eyes sparkle.

“Visit me again,” she says. “My father is very… protective. And I am lonely.”

“I can do that.”

The girl picks up his other hand now. “Visit me everyday.”

Rhys laughed. “I’ll visit you every day, for a month. If you tell me your name.”

She frowns at his fingers, even as she strokes his knuckles.

“For six months,” she says.

“Two.”

“Five.”

“Three.”

“Four, and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Rhys grins at that. “Deal,” he says. He untangles his hand from hers, so he can slide it behind her hair and cup the back of her skull. The daughter of Spring looks up at him through lidded eyes.

“Your cheek, Rhys,” she whispers.

“But nights are for lust,” he says, and then kisses her open mouthed and hungrier than he meant to. She tastes of rosewater and sweet pear. The girl’s arms twine round his neck and pull him closer, and without thinking he rolls her on top of him. Her weight is delicious along the length of his body, and the evening breeze blows her honey hair across his face.

Finally, the girl pulls back and looks at him from above. He tucks a curl behind her ear, and she flicks his nose for taking more than she had offered. Rhys thinks she might tell him off, but instead, she just says, “Feyre. My name is Feyre.”

****

Read Part 2

PS Big time thanks to everyone who reblogged some of my fics after I asked for some extra love for them!!! I appreciate it so much and hope you enjoy this new thing. I reckon there might be... seven parts.

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