#honestly i could care less about this fucking class

[quemirabobo]

Looking back to high school, my friends and i took every opportunity we had (and those we didn't we took them anyway) to act in the most awkward way possible

#I'm not talking about behavior (although it would also be true) #I'm talking about acting #we turned every presentation as an excuse to act and deliver the most terrible performance with 98% inside jokes that no one understood #it was so fun and out of the blue i would do it all over again #we also had theater classes and we acted everytime we could but with the same principle #of course everything we did was weird as fuck or in best case scenario a comedy #our logic was 'they bully and cast us outside regardless what we do‚ let's have fun' and we did #and when our classmates stopped hating us (the group of girls who treated us like shit changed classes and then the rest realized #we couldn't care less about them and I was friend with one of them so they were chill only the last year) #so we pulled them all into the madness and every presentation ended up as a video from all the class doing the most weird shit ever #and of course with the bloopers #most times the videos had nothing to do with the assignment but since the whole class was involved they let it be #but the other 5 years when we were from 4 to 6/7 girls? i think the teachers thought that since we embarrassed ourselves it would be mean #to fail us‚ or maybe they thought we were hilarious as fuck‚ or (probably the most realistic) they knew that our lives were a complete mess #so they looked the other side #but honestly i have no idea how we passed that history class when we had to make a presentation about renown people and all we did was #print Madame Curie face (it ended up green because the printer was almost dead) cut the eyes so i could see and use it as a fucking mask #one of my friend was 'the teacher' who announced that 'look who came to today's class' and i appeared talking with an accent that i used to #make because we thought it was funny (not even russian) and started to talk about radioactivity (literally reading the paper while trying #to not laugh) while my friends were openly laughing so still 'in character' (we barely knew anything about her) i started to scold them #the teacher of course didn't understand why the fuck we were acting but she laughed either way #and thought we were funny enough so we passed 🙌 #anyways #chronicles of Yu's life

[magdaclaire]

i had the funniest conversation w my mom this morning. pov i have recently (in the past year) been notified that i qualify for disability care because of the severity of my depression. because of well. not least of all my depression but also the summation of who i am as a person. it got in my head that i tricked the government, that i pulled something over on the division of vocational rehabilitation services. because certainly my depression does not qualify for that, even if my vocational rehab lady, my therapist and my primary care all agree that it is. and so then i'm in college again now. and i'm explaining to my mother how it's not that i forgot college was work, it's that i forgot that work and labor are intensely difficult for me because of my illness. and my mom is like. forgot you have debilitating depression huh squidward. like MOTHER please

#like fuck my physical disabilities honestly who fucking cares i can take an elevator. but jesus god #i could not make myself unassume the position of being face down on my bed to go do my quiz last night #i had to do it at 8am this morning with less than two hours before class #but honestly. fuck. i forgot about her Power. her being my mental illness #mer rambles

[undercoverpena]

be good, be quiet

joel miller x f!reader | joel masterlist

GIF credit to the amazing @perotovar who i adore, and i'm grateful adores me.

summary: bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.

wordcount: 3.7k warnings: post outbreak. smut. sneaking around (so to speak). p in v. fingering. joel angst. you riding joel. jo's spelling. praise kink. joel trying to keep you quiet (by sticking his fingers in your mouth). feelings, but joel-feelings.

AN: thanks as always to @thetriumphantpanda for leaving me comments in the document that made me feel less scared about posting. and also to @swiftispunk for being a cheerleader when i threw a snippet at her like a toddler with a drawing.

All unannounced, it rumbles in. Creeping in, bringing clouds that snuff light and immense claps of thunder. It’s the kind of storm that has lightning that even the shadows can’t hide from. Makes the house creak, groan—it pleading, weeping in its persistence to stand up straight and not cower.

It’s also the only reason the two of you are allowed to stay.

Joel hears the whispers, tuned in until they grow into near shouts in a room next to the one you and him are standing in. If you’re listening, you make no effort to show it—head turned, staring out as the rain thrashes down, eyes following certain droplets as they run down the pane.

Honestly, he doesn’t even want to fucking stay.

Had folded his arms to indicate as such when it was suggested. But, as he stares at you, he knows he doesn’t want you in it—recalling not all that long ago when you had shivered for days. You’d barely been able to speak full sentences as you remained curled in a ball he couldn’t unfurl, all cold to the touch, clinging to him as your teeth rattled in your skull.

It’s the only reason he’s grateful Frank forces Bill’s hand. His tongue piercing, delivering a fine—all razor-like, cutting, his voice booming that the two of you were to sleep in separate rooms.

He could have argued, could have glared, tilted his head—he didn’t. Not as the house shook with another crack of thunder, an idea sprouting, digging itself deep and blooming out across the wasteland living inside of him.

It’s why he plays along. Taking the fresh clothes, the offering of a shower, bidding you a goodnight loud enough for them to hear downstairs, a kiss to your cheek to sign it—burying a smirk under it all.

The whim pulsating, throbbing under his skin—not doused by the cooling temperature of the shower or his hand gripping the base of his half-hard cock. Memories, tinged with blackened edges brimming as he steps from the steam, thinking, ticking—

Waiting.

Waiting for the house to go mute in between the cries of the weather.

Waiting to strike, to prowl—a champion at it, awarded best in class.

Then, he tires from it.

Throwing the covers back, the soles of his feet meet the wood on the thunder. The ticking clock in the corner syncs with his racing heart, desperate to be quiet, maintain mouse-like footsteps, careful—as silent as he is when he moves through buildings that screech and click.

The door you’re behind is at the end of the hallway—shut, closed. A metaphorical do not disturb struck across it from the glare the two of you had been given before Bill had shrunk off to bed.

He didn’t care, not as the drops of water dripped from his hair down his neck, sliding under the fabric that didn’t belong to him. Fingers reaching out for the door handle, all set to twist, when it opens, metal pulled away from him—draping him and the dull flowered carpet in warm orange.

“Jo—“

He’s quick, hand smothering your exclamation, muffling your words. Covering them with his palm, enjoying how soft your skin feels even under it, as he raises his other hand, finger to his mouth—escorted by a glare, a silent order—before dropping it to your hips, grabbing, digging into you as he begins to walk you backwards. You move easily with him, pressing yourself flush to him, all trusting, reading him like a damn book.

“Were y’coming to find me?”

It leaves his tongue in a rasp.

And the look you give him makes his cock even harder than it already had been. Reminding him he’s too worn, too old to be doing shit like this—but fuck does he want to. Lay there, thinking of only you. Mind lost out at sea, bobbing along gentle waves of how you feel wrapped around him, that whimper you make when he flattens his palm to your spine, slides in, fills you, hips flush with yours.

You’re good, because you nod, no words—not making another noise. Your hand slips past him, shutting the door as your chest remains flush with his—the door happy, gleeful to return to its frame. He slides his hand from your mouth, moving to wrap it around the back of your neck, your chin tilted up without so much as a request.

Then, you smile, soft, almost innocent. But he knows you’re no angel—you’re something carved from molten and destruction, but fuck are you pretty. The kind that leaves an outline on the back of his eyelids. The kind that he suspects would turn heads, if you didn’t look like you wished to disembowel them for even looking. Plus, you’re always with him, eyes on him, enamoured, enchanted—

You shouldn't.

Not when he’s poison, slowly feeding you with drops—rotting your insides and blackening your soul. Watching you slowly being made in the shape of his past, carved, narrative rewritten and a future fading, before you get to live it, because of his company. A price scratched against your name.

But, you chose him—leave a mark, Miller. And he did, does. He paints himself on your spine, ropes of white whenever he can; he makes the juncture between your thighs slick with the mess he makes of you. More you whine, and that’s when it changed. When it became less about mindless distraction and more about possession, care, something else fucking entirely—

He pulls your ear to his mouth, your body relaxing, going limp—catching the scent of freshly washed skin. “Ima need you to be a good girl and be quiet. Can y’do that?”

Joel catches the smirk before you blink it away. Your teeth digging into your lip, nodding, catching the reflection of him as lightning floods the room—a sight that undoes him, affects him even though he’ll never show it. Because how much you want him scares him, makes him feel something other than numb, muted grief and disgrace.

The two of you don’t kiss, but he ghosts his lips over yours all the same. Something about the room makes it more intimate, romantic, normal.

“Not like you to break the rules.”

You snort, fingers knotting in his still-damp hair. “Well, I’m sure it’s equally not gentleman-like to sneak into a lady’s room.”

He grunts, and buries it in the back of his throat. Your tongue forces his hand, making him tug on the borrowed PJ bottoms you’re wearing. Palm flattening under the fabric covering your chest, resting it on your stomach, pausing, briefly feeling your heart beating, proof it isn't a fantasy, a dream, before sliding it down.

That’s when he focuses, basks in the feeling of nothing but the softness of your skin and the stories etched into it from surviving, from living. His fingers inching under the elastic and string, your eyes aflame, an inferno, and he wants you to burn him. Singe yourself into him, leave a mark, make it hurt.

“Stopped being a gentleman a while ago, honey.”

You’re wet. A truth two of his fingers feel, sliding them into your heat, suddenly enveloped by nothing but warmth and the sweet rose scent of the soap you washed your skin in. And it’s a comfort, eyes transfixed, all in awe as he watches you try to hold back a gasp—enjoying the way your nails dig into his neck, lashes fluttering and how you part your lips in a silent moan. He can make out what you’re saying is Joel. Each letter inscribed, even in a muted whisper. J-O-E-L.

He already decides he misses the way you sound. A new craving, a new need to make you sing—make your body break out into music, remind him how sweet something can sound when the world is nothing but grievous behaviour and murder.

It’s why he likes when your back is pressed to his chest, knees sore as he pistons in and out of you on the shitty mattress in the shitty room back in the QZ.

Because you can be loud, unfiltered.

There is no need to muffle back how good it feels what he’s doing to you, you can be unhinged, hiss his name, moan through gritted teeth if you’re trying to punish him. He hears them all the same, collects them. Stores them, and uses them to keep the last shard of him intact from all the loss and survival—the part of him he occasionally shows you. Usually in the dark, more morning than night, your chest flush to his back, not asleep, but not fully awake.

But, he can’t collect them here, can’t risk it here—slowing his movements down, hearing you fight it, struggling, being strangled by the moan you want to let breathe.

“C’mon baby, you know how to be quiet. Y’so good when we’re surrounded by clickers. This is no different.”

Narrowing your eyes, you whimper as the base of his palm catches your bundle of nerves. “You’re not—fuck, Joel—usually doing this when we’re surrounded by clickers.”

The corners of his lips twitch. It slides up into one of his cheeks, making a home there—all temporary, only something you seem to pull from him. “Guess I’ll have to help y’out then, won’t I?”

Your eyes narrow briefly before he does. Snaking two fingers—index and middle—past your lips, pressing down onto your tongue, continuing the movements of his other hand, the one pumping his fingers inside of you, coating himself in you.

He learns, quickly, that the pressure applied to your tongue does little to muffle your moan, but the clap of thunder smothers the rest. The way it bleeds out, shakes everything, allowing you a chance to whimper, whine and moan. Eyes digging into his, begging, pleading—

And, he could watch you for hours like this. At his mercy, hanging on the edge—shimmered with a light sheen of sweat and desperation swirling in your eyes. It’s the only time you’re weak, that you show him you can be vulnerable, soft, your edges smoothed down.

It’s why it takes him by surprise when he feels your tongue swirl around his fingers, sucking on them, staring into his fucking soul like you could repair all it had been through. Fuck he’d let you try when you look at him like that.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he groans, sliding his palm from your face, resting it on the wall by your head.

“You’ve fucked me on a forest floor, Joel. Don’t act so surprised.”

He lets you have that one—rewarding you for it. Unable to tear his gaze away when you’re overcome with it, stilling, tensing, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you constrict, breathing laboured, rapid breaths before you slant his name across his lips. Stain it. Bury the gratitude and relief as you slide your tongue past his teeth, worming into another part of him, a place he realises he’s wanted you to own. Wants to swallow it, have you rooted under his skin—

“Get on the bed.”

“No,” you rasp, grasping his wrist from between your thighs, bringing his fingers to your lips, tongue swirling before you release them with a pop. “Floor. Bed creaks.”

Another flash, another rumble—it allowing him to take in the expression spreading over your face. The calm, sleepy edge to your smile, all thanks to him. It sears into his skull, makes a home, and buries into a crevice he’ll never be able to scrape you from.

Least of all when you turn, shedding your clothes without aid—stripping himself as you busy ripping sheets to the floor, pillows scattering, a teenager's sleepover dream strewn across the carpeted floor. One he has you lay down on, sliding his mouth over the parts of you he hasn’t yet touched—lapped and enjoyed. Leaving a trail, a path of desire against your skin, your nails finding a home in his scalp, awarding him with gasps, small medals compared to the trophy of before.

“Wanna go on top,” you mewl, hand on his, pausing his hips from connecting with yours. “Wanna ride you, Joel.”

“Think you can handle it.”

It’s perfectly timed, almost comically, the way lightning sparks through the room—your glare more than sharp, digging into him, spacing out his insides until he’s nothing but bone.

He knows you can, but he likes taunting you. Enjoys the way your eyes lick flames across his skin, that your tone can be curt with him, gaze sharpened, pointing.

Joel likes being under you. Has a fondness for the weight of you on him and how your thighs feel on either side of him. Mostly, he likes what it says—what it gives you. An assurance you never ask for and he can never provide, because he can’t give you much, a lot, anything. He’s not good, kind or soft—he won’t trace three words against your shoulder and fan his hand out over your back as he tells you you’re a tempest on two legs, a thing which takes his breath, makes him crave, makes him want, makes him wish.

“You can do it—can take it, take me.”

“I know,” you bite back, lining the head of him at your slit.

It almost makes him snigger. That fury in you, that little determined flame that won’t ever be doused, becoming an inferno in your indignation. So, he whispers your name, fingers crawling up your neck, watching the space your bodies join as you sink down on him.

And he’s in awe as your pussy swallows him, inch by inch, the lightest hiss from under your breath caressing the air as your hips go flush with his.

“Feel good don’t it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes closed, head rolled back fingers digging, half-curling into his stomach. “You always feel good, Joel.”

Your velvet wrapped around him, encasing him in warmth, all slick and needy. It tugs at him, and makes him for a moment feel like a man and not a carved-out monster who keeps fighting to live another day, for some reason or another. He supposes you wouldn’t let him have it any other way, would fight him and anyone else tooth and nail on it. You’re fierce like that, a difficult fucking thing he’s come across and now wishes to never lose.

“So big,” you whine in a whisper.

Lit up by the storm. It casts flickering shadows over your breasts over the muscles that contort as you roll your hips—if it lingered longer, he’d have been able to witness how wild your eyes were, how slick it is where the two of you are conjoined. Evidenced ruin, a sight he’d pull up in his mind when he’s alone, and you’re busy, and he pretends his fist is close to how you feel.

“Y’doin’ so well for me.”

Another flash grants him the chance to study your parted lips, the way your lashes hang over your cheek. It’s a sight, a fucking delight. An extra breath of oxygen and an anchor to keep him here all at once. A thing which didn’t cling, but had sunk its nails into him all the same—I’m not letting go, and you’re not going to ask me to.

You never say those words, but they hang—attached to string and bunting, a banner of sorts. One that isn’t wrong. A realisation that feels larger here than at the QZ. Surrounded by ornate white furniture and floral patterns, a room which has remained untouched, unspoiled—almost making him feel like a person he used to know. The one who he occasionally spots in the mirror, hanging back in his reflection.

It fucks with his mind. Makes him relaxed, and unwinds the stress from his bones as he plants his feet on the ground and rocks with you. Enjoys your moans, soft, bitten back but likely screamed in your head.

A thought beating inside him, all closed fists hammering on ribs: because he never thought he’d get attached to someone. Never mind someone who appears so otherworldly, likely created to threaten, but he finds only fascinating. A soul who unlocks things within him, finds a way through cobwebs and vines.

Someone who makes him wonder how passion and despair, adoration and darkness can all exist inside of him. Especially without losing the parts which he needs to live, to protect, to save—while keeping the parts that have you coming back to him.

He’s sure you see it, though. You understand him, having peeled back the layers in time and seen the decay which lives within his chest. You’ve even traced your fingers over his scars, ear close to them, as if they’ll spill all their secrets. Even without answers, you remain by his side.

It’s what makes this time different. So much so, he lifts your hand from his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. All tender, soft. Your eyes twinkle, shimmering with something—lit up again—before he places your hand back and rests his hands on your hips, aiding you, helping you ride him, until he has a better idea, a better thought—

His palms almost lift you off him, just the tip remaining as you hover. Digging his thumb and fingers into your skin, leaving indents he can trace when he catches his breath, and he latches his mouth in the space under your breast. Kissing, drawing a circle with his tongue, before he sucks, nips. Intentionally leaving a flaw, signing his name in a signature only he’ll be able to admire—a piece of evidence that this is real, you’re real. Knowing it will be there in the trek back to the life the two of you live; present when you strip off and change, a blight on otherwise perfection, put there by him—another ruin in your life.

Because you could do better than him. A fact he knows, has put to bed but still occasionally turns over.

I chose you because you don’t expect perfection, you’re happy with just good.

Except, you’re more than good.

Your fingers brush over his cheek, soft, gentle. Far too much of both in his opinion. Then he lowers you back down, pussy taking every inch, the lightest hiss fluttering over him as he stares up at you. Transfixed, lost. Almost able to live a fantasy, allow himself to fall into a dreamlike state.

Because this, right in this room, could have been plucked from the world before. It normal, could pretend the two of you were in a room in some inn somewhere or a bedroom the two of you would have built together—hand-chosen ornate furniture and pleasant knick-knacks that adorn surfaces, wooden frames with pictures he could imagine you’d fill if this was real, and not a break in the reality.

“This what you wanted when you were coming t'look f’me?”

He sounds drunk, intoxicated, maybe he is. Having drank from you for so long, he’s more you than he is rotten. He assists you as he snaps his hips to yours, burying the thought in his movements. But, he’s breathing you in—tasting the air tinged with the two of you as you both pant, hunger rearing, desperate, wanting to collide and spark out across nerves, muscles and fucking bone.

Yes, you chant. Yes, yes, yes.

M’close, Joel. So close.

It falls in breathless swirls, a juxtaposition to how tight you are around him, knotting perfectly at the base of him. Sucking him in, keeping him rooted, the head of him finding that spot that makes your body loose and boneless.

“Doin’ so good for me, my good girl.”

So he fucks you harder, uncaring if the floorboards creak, if they protest and shout, he has to. A thing inside of him commanding it. This is all he can give, so give, give, give—

He feels your nails dig, half-moons slicing in—a new scar, one he’ll be thankful to trace. Next is your thighs and muscles tautening. Then, that flutter, the one he seeks, desperate to own, his prize, no one else's.

Mine, mine, fucking mine.

And, distantly, he’s aware he’s the one who pulls you down, but he’ll tell himself later it was you. Trick himself that you required it, even if it was he who needed it. His mouth slanting over yours, clinging to your jaw and cheek, tongue swirling over the moan that is bestowed to him, that hits and fucking pounds into him. Unable to hold on, barely a handful of thrusts before he’s grunting into your mouth, spilling into you, pouring unspoken words to the place between your thighs as you grasp at the tufts of hair on either side of his face.

Something about it makes you taste sweeter. A man like him should never get to experience it now, not this version of him, the act more forbidden, prohibited. It’s what makes him want to spread you out on the floor, lick the expanse between your thighs, taste the two of you—clean you with his mouth and smear you across his face until he’s dyed with the two of you.

Instead, he grasps you close when you collapse against his heaving chest. Palm, all rough, blotched with death, pressing against your cheek as he kisses you. Knowing he should get up and clean himself from between your legs; knowing he should go back to his room.

But he wants to remain on the floor. Enjoying this, whatever the fuck it is. Hand stroking your arm, your fingers drawing shapes as your mouth parts from him, flicking a warmer gaze over him, before lying on his chest.

Stay. Because of the storm.

It’s barely that, just droplets of rain occasionally kissing the glass of the windows.

But in his head, he wants to pretend a little longer. Live in some make-believe land that this is your two’s house, he found it—safety, built ease into your muscles, allowed the callouses to rid from clutching weapons you shouldn’t know how to use. That it’s just a night where the two of you can’t sleep, rather than it being a night where the two of you just feel safe.

“Sure,” he replies in a gruff. “F’the storm.”

Sighing in contentment, rather than annoyance, even if he knows there’s so much suspended in the air—words not spoken or shared.

He almost thinks he could. Almost thinks the moment calls for it—a little whisper, a selection of perfectly chosen words that would wrap you in the knowledge you mean something to him.

But, he thinks you know.

Hopes it, anyway.

AN: shout out to G, who had to listen to me ramble about this two months ago. i hope, once you read this, it's worth the wait.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x reader smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x fem!reader #tlou fanfic #hbo the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal characters fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller x female reader

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

yellowjackets spoilers for this week’s ep but i dont see a lot of people talking about teen misty’s panic attack and it’s something i wanna talk about cause it is DEFINITELY not just because of crystal, it’s because of what crystal said to her.

less than an hour ago, the only friend she’s ever had found out that it was her fault they were still in the wilderness, that they were starving and freezing and eating their team captain, and told her she was insane. and misty knew she was right, that stranding them– whether she did or not, that was her intention– was an unforgivable act.

and misty gets confronted with that fact twice in quick succession. first when crystal fucking dies in front of her, second when shauna starts giving birth. when she looks at the blood and thinks of crystal, i think that’s when it clicks for her. the past nine months have been a fun camping trip for her, she didn’t care about the shrooms or the corpses or the blood or the cannibalism. she wanted to make bone broth outta jackie. but when crystal makes her realize it is her fault they’re there, she is suddenly thrust into a situation she is not prepared for. no red cross babysitter training class tells you how to deliver a baby.

misty broke the box because she wanted to be needed, she needed to be needed, she needed people to rely on her and depend on her and be nice to her for five fucking seconds and it worked for 8-9 months, she was happy for 8-9 months, only peeved when everyone blamed her for the shrooms, not at all peeved about the dead girl in the meat shed.

but when she’s suddenly needed and can’t do what they need from her, that’s why she panics, because that’s when it hits her that she did this and she cannot fix it. not only did she strand them and kill laura and kill jackie and kill crystal, she has changed everyone’s lives for the worse and now she can’t even do what the other girls need from her. she is a useless child in the woods full of people who hate her, and another girl is about to die in front of her, a baby is about to die, and it will be her fault.

if they were not in the wilderness laura lee would not have flown that plane, jackie would not have slept outside, crystal would not have stepped back, and shauna would not be in labor in the middle of the fucking woods– she would have either aborted the baby early or would be in a functioning hospital surrounded by adults who know what they’re doing.

she realizes it at that moment, realizes that crystal was right, and runs.

the only reason she comes back is that lottie convinces her that no, she is indeed needed. misty plays pretend at being the medic and when she cries and tells shauna she’s sorry, it’s because she failed at doing the thing she stranded them to do, and because it’s her fault they’re all here in the first place. she failed everyone and now she’s failed shauna’s baby– not that she could have fucking done anything anyway. she’s a teenage girl with no medical supplies in the wilderness and with the placenta coming out first, the baby was likely going to be stillborn no matter what they did. but misty doesnt know that and she believes it was her fault and so in the eyes of the wilderness it was her fault.

honestly i like that we don’t know if the black box was a tracker or not. if it was, all of this is hitting misty at once as everyone screams and sobs and bleeds around her. if it was not, then this is hitting misty for absolutely no reason.

both options are good fucking horror. this show is god

#yellowjackets #yj spoilers #yellowjackets spoilers #misty quigley #mine

[luveline]

Jade my dear I just had an idea for prince Steve… what if he got hurt (fencing or something??? honestly idk) & reader freaks out even though their relationship is fairly new? Or idk how your soulmate au works but maybe she can feel it too? Or idk!! I’d just love to see what you could do with that, but no pressure either way 🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! fem!reader, 1.1k

“Holy fuck!” Steve says, yanking his leg back from the doctor’s cold hands, and hurting his knee worse than ever. “Fuck!” 

“Steven,” she says with an eye roll, used to his lack of carefulness by now. 

“What the fuck.” 

“It’s not that bad. You haven’t even torn anything. It’s a sprain at worst.” 

“I will never walk again.” 

“Fingers crossed,” Robin says, kicking her legs up onto the end of his medical bed. Her hat slips down into her eyes, her naked knees red from ten minutes in the grass trying to persuade Steve into standing again. 

“It hurt so bad. Are you sure I can’t have morphine?” he asks. 

The doctor tightens the bandages one last time around Steve’s knee. “Absolutely not. I’ll make you a peppermint tea for the inflammation. You’ll be better by tomorrow.” 

It throbs evilly. Steve doesn’t believe even for a moment that his knee will be better by tomorrow, he can’t walk without help. “I want to see another doctor,” he decides. 

“Sure,” the doctor says. “Tomorrow.” 

Steve sinks down into the pillows unhappily. What kind of royal life is this? Nobody ever takes him seriously, they couldn’t care less that he’s injured, and now he’s doomed to sit inside for who knows how long in the suffocating heat and the smothering presence of his attendants. Worst day ever. 

“Where’s Y/N?” he asks, because if he’s going to suffer, he’s going to be spoiled about it. “I want to see her.” 

“She’s in her political etiquette class,” Robin says from under the hat, unmoving. 

“That’s dumb. She doesn’t like politics or etiquette. Can we have her pulled out?” 

“Sure, Steve, we’ll disrupt her entire day because you slipped on dry grass.” 

Steve tries to catch the eye of one of the serfs lining the room and by the door, but they’re smart to his ways, and they look away. He doesn’t care. He’s a prince. “Hello? Can someone go and get her, please?” 

They all stand still but uncomfortable for a moment, and then one says, “She’s coming down the hall as we speak, your highness.” 

“Aw, yes,” he says, propping up on his elbows to look out the doorway. There you are, in a pretty, breezy dress you aren’t used to wearing and your hair in one of the new fashions, silver bracelets tinkling on your wrist as you speed walk to the door.

“Hello,” you say, breathless, still shy despite having married him and kissed him more times than he can count (seventeen).

“Sweetheart,” he says, “I’ve been grievously harmed.” 

“They told me, and I–” You rub your index fingernail between the thumb and index of the other hand. “I can feel it,” you say, an embarrassed and adorable smile on your lips as you waver in the door. “Are you okay?”

“You have to sit down and have some morphine too,” he says quickly. 

“You aren’t having any morphine,” Robin says. 

You weave around servants and the dressing table to stand by his bed. He’s pleased to realise you want to sit hip to hip with him, moving over despite his screaming knee, and putting his arm behind you as you hoist yourself onto the bed. “Hello,” he says, audibly charmed by you as he kisses your cheek. He rubs the kiss with the back of his finger. “Didn’t hurt you too much, did I?” 

“It feels like I’ve had a cramp,” you say. “But it’s not– I can’t imagine how it feels for you.”

“I’m sorry to hurt you,” he says.

“Ew,” Robin grumbles, covering her face with skinny hands. 

“Sorry, Robin.” You wipe your forehead. “I freaked out.”

“Don’t say sorry to her,” Steve says, putting his hand on your hip just to watch you fluster, “she’s bitter. Let me rub your knee.”

“What about your knee? What did you even do?”

“I fell. A little. A minor fall.” 

“Will you be alright?” 

“Honey, I’m in agony, and they won’t treat me, and you’re sitting with me, so I’m already fine.” 

Confusion in your gaze melds to sweetness. You’re practically heart-eyed leaning into his side, wrapping your arm around his stomach. You rarely initiate hugs from fear of being overbearing, and he can’t believe his luck. He’ll be eating grass more often. 

“I can feel that you aren’t fine. Are you going to be okay? Seriously, Steve, are you hurting?”

Your soul mark burns a light blue. He’s narrowed your colours down, he thinks, maybe, though they tend to change. Blue means love and affection. He’s a more classic guy —when he’s in love, his soul mark burns a gaussian pink just as it does now. 

“Oh, you can feel it?” he asks.

“Don’t start.” 

“We’re so connected,” he says quietly, teasingly, a flirtation for your ears alone. “It’s almost like we’re soulmates or something. Suns, I wish. I’d be a lucky guy, huh? Connected to a girl like you?” He draws a line from just below your ear to your chin. “I’d feel like a prince among men.” 

“Stop,” you whisper, in a tone that suggests you’d very much like him to continue. 

Nonetheless, he drops his hand in favour of kissing you instead, pressing his lips softly to your cheek. His leg throbs with angry pain and a headache brews between his eyes, but he’s not kidding about being fine. Everything feels better when you’re with him. You truly are the half to his whole, no matter how new your relationship might be. 

“How was your morning?” he asks. 

“Being a princess is awful.” 

“Yes, but it suits you.” 

You turn your face to his, close enough to kiss. It’s very tempting for Steve, but he lets you say what’s clearly on your mind. “I had a funny feeling about you this morning, like something bad was going to happen, and I wanted to be with you in case but they wouldn’t let me out of meditation. Do you think I was having a premonition?”

“Maybe. They wouldn’t let you out?” 

“Morine said I need to have better discipline if I’m going to be queen.” 

He laughs and wraps his arms around you completely for a full, loving hug. “You will be queen, no ifs about it, so you need to start acting like one and have more hissy fits to visit your pathetic husband.” He kisses your cheek three times in quick succession. 

Your soul mark intensifies slowly, until it burns a beautiful, coruscating blue that dances over the skin of your wrist as you hug him back. “You’re the opposite of pathetic.” 

“No, I was. Ask Robin.” 

“He was,” Robin says. 

“But I’m totally cooler now,” he promises. 

You let your face fall into the curve of his neck, tickling him with your smile. “You’re so cool, Steve.” 

“My lovely liar.” He kisses the top of your head. 

“As touching as this is, I have your tea ready now, young Steven,” the doctor says. 

Steve pretends he can’t hear her. 

#prince!steve au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things

[agustdiv1ne]

dom!tutor!yn x sub!stoner!cocky!beomgyu who doesn't even care abt college, only wants to get in yns pants

ada. you just kinda got a lil fic out of me with this one so i made it pretty n aesthetic (might have to make this an actual fic, like. a Long one bc this concept is doing smth to me....) honestly, this turned into more of a switch!beomgyu x femdom!reader thing so i apologize for that,, HOWEVER, he is submissive for most of this <3

wc: 1.8k

(MDNI!!!!!!! and please stop asking for a part 2)

beomgyu couldn’t give less of a shit about college. his parents are rich — they could buy his degree if he asked them to — so what the fuck is he doing? why is he not in his dorm right now getting high off his ass? why is he here, sitting in this musty study room in the library? for him, that’s easy to answer: it’s all because of you, the pretty thing that he’s roped into being his physics tutor.

you’re currently trying to explain a law made by some dude named ohm and all he can really think about is how nice your lips would look around his cock, how your pretty fingers that are playing with your pencil would press so perfectly into his thighs as he thrusts into your mouth, tears welling in your eyes as he uses you to his heart’s content. you’re a cute little thing, aren’t you? a bit quiet in class, kinda submissive as far as he can tell — and all he wants to do is bend you over this desk and fuck you ‘til you’re crying for him to stop.

with half-hazy eyes from the joint he snuck a couple huffs from before this study session started and a stupid smirk, he places a hand on your thigh and watches you pause, brows furrowing as he trails it up a bit higher and squeezes the soft flesh under the hem of your shorts. your nose scrunches up as you move your attention from your notebook to him. with a scalding glare, you hiss, “the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

woah. did that just come out of your mouth? for some reason, the words only make his shit-eating grin grow wider, and he squeezes your thigh again. “nothin’. something wrong, sweetheart?”

you stare at him for a moment, gaze cold and calculating, nothing like the wide-eyed look you wear on a normal basis. all he can think about is how fucked he is as soon as he feels you wrench his hand from your thigh and slam it onto the table. he yelps at the pain that radiates through his fingers, rubbing them as he looks at you like a wounded puppy. your lips purse. “i know your stupid game, beomgyu. either let me tutor you, or get the fuck out.”

“jesus,” he sighs, hands shooting up defensively. “fine, whatever. do your worst, i guess.”

beomgyu can’t deny the twitch in his cock at your cruel words. you’re more feisty than he thought; maybe he’d let you take the lead, if you even let him get in your pants in the first place. he was wrong, you seem like the type who’d want control. of course you did. you’ve never fallen at his feet like some of the other girls in your class, the ones who know he’s rich and good in bed and friends with the best plugs on this godforsaken campus. you’ve never wanted anything to do with him; your sore lack of interest just made him want you more, so to let you shut down his attempts to fuck you right here, right now? nah, not fucking happening.

so after a bit of actual studying to appease you, his hand sneaks onto your thigh once again—

oh, he’s hit the jackpot.

you’re standing up now, hand gripping his chin so hard that it hurts. the tick in your jaw is enough to indicate that he’s really pissed you off, a fire surging behind your irises as you glower down at him. he’s leaned back into his seat because you’ve leaned in so close, caging him in — and fuck, does he like it. he’s never had someone be so mean to him. they’ve always let him take the lead, let him use them, but you? you have different plans, it seems.

“what did i say?” your tone is sharp, dangerous. the air around him suffocates his lungs, yet he smiles. he likes this game.

“to let you tutor me, and i was, so what’s your problem?” he shrugs as if you don’t look like you’re about to incinerate him with your gaze right now. your head tilts as soon as you glance down at the hard-on in his lap, that unimpressed, calculating glint returning to your eyes. suddenly, you let him go, shoving him backwards into his seat as you resume your own. you look down at his lap again.

“y’know what? fine. i’ll make you a deal: i’m gonna jerk you off as you do this problem set. if you complete it, i’ll let you cum.”

oh. oh wow. did he hear that properly? you’re gonna jerk him off? he feels a little dizzy because honestly, this is just the first step to getting you to give in to him, to lose control and ride him until he’s a drooling mess for you, ‘cause god, you’d love to him like that, wouldn’t you? he can tell that you would. so—

he gives you another one of his trademark cocky smirks, and says, “yeah, sure. i’ll get it done in no time.”

and beomgyu tries. he tries so hard to focus, but he does not, in the end, get it done in no time. it’s been thirty minutes, and all he’s gotten done is two out of the ten problems that you’ve been assigned to complete by tomorrow. how can he with your hand stroking up and down his cock so slow that he wants to cry? whenever he stops working to try and thrust into your hand, gain any semblance of pleasure, you remove it. he can’t fucking win.

“do the problem,” you command, leaning against the desk with the most bored expression ever painted on your face, as if you’re not jerking him off beneath the desk right now. as if you don’t even want to be here. “you have an hour to finish these, y’know. i can’t stay here all night with your dumbass. i have better shit to do.”

his hips twitch up. fuck. fuck. he needs you to degrade him more. you sound so pretty doing it.

“c’mon,” he whines. “can’t you just let me cum? i’m never gonna get this shit in an hour.”

“sounds like a you problem.” and you go back to stroking him, thumb teasing the flushed red tip and spreading his precum all over, further lubricating your hand to make your movements smoother. he gets back to work, trying his best to ignore how fucking good it feels to be edged like this. to get so close, only for it to be torn away from him. by problem seven, he’s sniffling and whimpering for you to let him cum, “please let me cum. please? wanna fuck you so bad. wanna feel you pussy around me, fuck.”

all you do is give him a mean-spirited laugh. “you really think i’m gonna give in and let you fuck me? y’probably thought i was some submissive little bitch at first, didn’t you? well, you thought wrong — so either solve these fucking problems, or else i’m not letting you cum. and you’re sure as hell not getting to fuck me. you’re more stupid than i thought. how pathetic.”

he could cum right now, but he thinks you might kill him if he did. so he struggles through problem eight. and nine. and ten — and finally, finally he’s finished. finally, you start to pump him as fast you can, whispering mean little names in his ear, calling him a stupid little bitch for thinking you’d be that easy, a fucking idiot for even trying. twisting your wrist, you lean over with your other hand to squeeze his balls, manicured nails biting into the sensitive flesh and—

he spills all over your hand with a pathetic whine, his whimpers loud enough for you to slap a hand over his mouth and whispering to keep fucking quiet, or do you want to be caught? he doesn’t care though, it feels too good to let go after being tortured for so long, his cum spurting all over his shirt and jeans and all over your hand.

when he’s finally done, he feels you wipe your hand on his shirt, mumbling how disgusting he is as you grab some hand sanitizer, apply it, and start to pack up. wait, you’re leaving now? he doesn’t get to fuck you?

“where are you going?” he questions, watching as you slip your calculator into your bag, not even sparing a glance at his ruined state.

“home,” you bluntly reply. “like i said, there’s no way in hell i’m letting you fuck me. and i’m not tutoring you anymore. find someone else.”

okay, that’s enough to get him panicked. “what? but you’re the only one who agreed to do it!”

“you think i care? go to the professor, then.”

“wait,” he says. grabbing the sleeve of your jacket before you can walk out. you turn, judgment apparent in the way you scan over his cum-covered clothes. despite that, he pushes on, “aren’t you at least a little turned on? why don’t you let me help you?”

“as if,” you scoff, even though yes, you’re really fucking turned on and wanna ride him until he’s an overstimulated mess right now. you’ve never had a boy bow to you as easily as him, and you enjoyed it more than you’d like to admit, but at the same time, this is beomgyu you’re talking about. he’s terrible news, and wouldn’t be a good influence on your academics. you try to pull away and head towards the door. “i’m out of here.”

“liar,” he accuses, pulling you backwards. “you have to be a least a little turned on. c’mon, i know you want to fuck me, wanna see me all stupid for you. you seem like the type to like that.”

he’s stupid and cocky and infuriating, but he’s also right. you want to tie him up and use him for hours. you want to watch his pretty rich boy face twist up and turn red as he starts to sob and whine for you to stop. you want to see him brainless and pliant and willing to do anything you ask. staring at him, your mind feeds you scenarios of his fucked-out face, sweat rolling down his temple and mixing with his tears. with a deep breath, you wrench your wrist from his grip and fully turn towards him.

you’ve made your decision.

“fine,” you say. “i’ll make you another deal: get a 90 on the exam next week, and maybe i’ll let you.”

there’s no way he can do that, can he? it sounds impossible in his mind given his track record of 20s and a 15 percent on the last exam — but he finds himself nodding anyway. he has to do this, he's desperate enough.

“you have a deal.”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

#txt smut #beomgyu smut #txt x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #beomgyu scenarios #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #txt x you #txt x y/n #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu x you #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu hard hours #beomgyu hard thoughts #💌 — gyu #agust.nsfw #kinda went off i'm ngl.....

[melrodrigo]

I really love puppy love omg 😭😭 what about when puppy like reader gets really injured by someone and ends up in the clinic and tries to hide it so that wednesday wont notice? Its up to you if you wanna write it!

ty babe! i’m glad you like it

i might’ve gone a little overboard and wrote more than i thought i would, enjoy!

Okay. Maybe picking a fight with a 6’2 giant wasn’t your brightest idea.

It started in fencing class, you making your way towards Enid, for a pair exercise. Wednesday wasn’t in class today, opting instead to sneak out and work on the hyde case, she had mentioned briefly.

“Yeah dude, Wednesday is sooo into me. I can feel it. She’s been giving me so many signals.” You hear as you walk past Xavier and his hoard of friends.

You can’t help the sudden tug in your heart, and the small voice in your head that said maybe he was right.

Wednesday had been spending a lot of time with Xavier lately, but she had claimed it was for the hyde case. It didn’t help the swell of jealousy that surged through you whenever you saw them though.

Stupid feelings. Why are you jealous anyway? It’s not like you and Wednesday are together.

A voice cuts you out of your thoughts, “Totally dude, and when you finally hit that, you gotta tell me alll the details alright?”

Your face scrunches in disgust, hands on both sides of your body starting to clench into fists.

“You know I will. I swear, she’s all over me. Next time we’re alone together, it’s on.” Xavier replies, drawing an emphasis on the last word.

Nope, that’s it.

You turn sharply and bring your clenched fists up to your face, resembling the stance of a boxer.

It probably looked a little funny, since you were what, a million feet shorter than him? But you honestly couldn’t have cared less in the moment.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” You hiss, eyes hard and unforgiving.

Xavier stays quiet for a moment, then let’s out a loud laugh.

“And what are you going to do about it, huh? Wednesday’s not here to protect your ass this time.” He drawls, smirk on his crusty thin lips.

He leans in, too close for comfort and whispers, “Wednesday would never give you the light of day. You’re so pathetically in love with her, all of us can see it. But Wednesday’s in love with me.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s trying to think of something good to say.

“And when we finally fuck, i’ll be sure to send you some photo evidence.”

That does it. You snap, lunging forward and grabbing his hair, pulling harshly.

“Ow! Get off of me!”

It’s hard to remember what happens next, you’re so lost in the fury and rage of it all you can barely register that you’re suddenly on top of him, pummeling his stupid face with all your might.

You grin in satisfaction as you see blood start to make its way from his lips down to his neck.

But your luck doesn’t last very long, and he manages to kick up at a certain weak spot between your legs, leaving you to stumble and hit the floor.

Groaning, you try and get up, but he’s faster. The adrenaline is fading away, and you’re starting to realize that he is in fact a lot stronger, even if you hate to admit it.

You start to lose feeling in the right side of your face, where his knuckles have collided against your skin. Bruises form so fast you almost let out a chuckle, was your skin really that sensitive?

“That’s enough! Xavier get off YN.” The teacher’s voice booms. Could he really not have cut in sooner?

“Enid, take YN to the nurses office.”

You barely register Enid and Ajax rushing over to you, taking you in their arms and dragging you out the classroom.

You smile a toothy grin at them.

“Did I win?” And then everything turns to black.

______

When you wake up again, Enid’s at your side immediately, looking down at you, worry prominent in her eyes.

“YN! Are you okay?”

You nod, only to find out that it’s extremely difficult to move your head and not feel like you just broke every bone in your body.

“I’m good.” You croak.

You look around the room, relieved to find that Wednesday wasn’t there. You don’t think you could bear the look she would give you, so full of worry and so unlike Wednesday.

“Where’s Wednesday?” You manage out, looking at Enid expectedly.

“She hasn’t come back from Jericho yet.” Enid confirms your suspicions, sounding a little uneasy.

“Xavier’s really got to watch his back, I have no idea what Wednesday’s going to do when she finds out about this, but it’s NOT going to be pretty.” She continues, eyes wide.

At that, your own eyes widen, and you try to shake your head.

“No no, Enid, please don’t tell Wednesday about this. I don’t want her to see me in this shape.” You reach for Enid’s hand, making sure she’s looking at you.

“But…”

“Please, Enid. You don’t have to lie or anything, just tell her you don’t know where I am. I’ll be good in a couple of days.” You plead.

“Alright, fine.” She mumbles, taking your hand in hers and rubbing the back in comfort.

——

The next few days are spent in agony. The pain is starting to subside, but you still look like a beat up raisin. Purple and green bruises litter your skin, but the real sense of pain is coming from the distance between you and Wednesday.

You two had grown….very somewhat close the last few months, though the both of you would never admit it.

It was extremely hard trying to avoid Wednesday, and even harder to cover the bruises on your face. One good look and you knew she would’ve figured it out.

So for the past week, you’ve stumbled into bushes, fallen over benches, and hit the corridor walls in an attempt to swerve from Wednesday many times.

Every time she tried to approach you, you’d hang your head low, never meeting her eyes.

It was going well for the most part, until Ms.Thornhill had decided she wanted people to work in pairs.

You crossed your fingers, praying to the lord that you didn’t even worship you wouldn’t be stuck with Wednesday.

But to no avail, your luck once again ran out.

“Wednesday Addams, YN LN.”

You sigh loudly and make your way over to sit next to Wednesday, still avoiding her eye at all costs.

Most of the lesson is spent in silence, both of you lost stirring in your thoughts.

Then, “Why have you been avoiding me?” Wednesday says, hurried, like she couldn’t help it from slipping.

You sigh, for what feels like the millionth time that day, and manage a quiet, “I haven’t been avoiding you Wednesday.”

It comes out so weak, you wouldn’t have even believed yourself.

“Yes you have. I want to know the reason, have I done something wrong? Maybe I said something to hurt your….feelings?” She pauses before the last word, tone turning uncertain.

You frown.

“No of course not Wednesday, I just…” You trail off.

You turn to Wednesday, determined to give the performance of a lifetime, but forget that your face still looks like a bruised peach, and you definitely shouldn’t look her in the face.

You let out a final sigh and pull the head of your hoodie down, feeling small under Wednesdays stare.

Her eyes widen a little at the sight of you, and worry fills them. You can’t help but feel a tinge of happiness at how much she seems to care, letting the emotionless mask slip for a second.

She stands up suddenly, startling you and the 20 other people in the room.

“Ms. Thornhill, may YN and I please be excused?”

Wednesday doesn’t wait for Ms.Thornhill to answer before taking you by the wrist and dragging you out.

She doesn’t say a word until she gets to her dorm, quickly opening the door and throwing you in.

“Wednesday?” You squeak.

She turns and reaches out to touch your face, thumb rubbing just the slightest on your bruises.

A gentleness she didn’t know she possessed took over, still moving her hand in small circles all over your face.

“Who did this to you?” She murmurs, and her voice is filled with such intense worry it makes you want to break down.

Your head falls down on instinct, staring at your shoes like they’re the most interesting piece of art in the world.

Wednesday grips your chin and tilts your face back up, inches away from you.

Then she’s placing her hands on your waist, hands rigid, like she’s nervous.

You look so vulnerable, and she might’ve even say sort of adorable, she can’t help but lean forward and press a kiss to your cheek, on top of the scar.

Your breath hitches in your throat, body stiff.

She continues giving you little pecks all around the bruises, and you relax in her arms.

After a while, she pulls away, and you grab at her on instinct. She lets you, body pressing up to yours once again.

“You never answered my question.” She says.

“Xavier. He said something bad about you, but it doesn’t matter now. This is much better.” You mumble as you dig your face in her uniform.

She tenses up at this.

“He’s going to die a slow, painful death. And not the satisfying kind.” She decides, hand wrapping around your waist protectively.

You hum, “Who cares? I just wanna stay like this.”

The two of you don’t say much after that, content in simply being in each other’s presence.

-

When you get to class the next day, you bite back a smirk when you see Xavier’s positively beaten up face.

You walk over to him, acting all nonchalant.

“Yeah dude. She’s soooo into you.”

-

A/N: I kinda really enjoyed writing that, ty anon! Wednesday’s such a sweet softie on the inside.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH36

Time find out just how fucked up Toshiro got.

Hey Kabru. Chill.

That sure is a normal look to give your team mate. I'm sure you're a normal, well adjusted leader who understands when you step out of bounds.

Bold of you to assume they even care. They're too caught up in the plot of the second arc to even remember you...

So much to question here. The fact that Toshiro has retainers. The fact that they're all mildly bored. The fact that Marcille seems to hate it here. Marcille, hello??? Are you only interested in Falin? Do you just hate people that aren't her?

The fact that she's still wearing the frog costume makes this panel, honestly. What a legend.

This is so wholesome. Laios just decided to therapy this workaholic man all on his own, dangit. If he won't do it, who will? Senshi must be so proud.

Hang on, I just realized--.....is that.

Is that the cat girl...?!!? That I've been seeing? I thought it was just a hat at first, but those are ears, aren't they?! Is she the one that eventually joins the party?

Marcille, you're a beautiful frog woman to me.

If I didn't know that Chillchuck is a dad already, I would have known it at this point. What a thing to say. "oh no, which one of these kids grown men is going to cause more trouble if left unattended"

I'm sure that's fine.

...........

But when you put it that way, it seems a little.... simple?

Kabru is beginning to suspect he's in the wrong class.

"Ah yes, a little freak that scuttles around from paintings to reality and speaks in archaic and mysterious tones. GOTTA be a Sorcerer. And hella mad, too!"

The math checks out, your honor.

Her best, Karbohydrate. She did her best.

Oh Laios, you're a hoot.

Kabru, you literally said Laios is a terrible liar three seconds ago. Maybe be a little less obvious? 😂

...you've done this to yourself, mate.

Okay, you know what. I take it back. I still don't like Kabru but watching him suffer IS supremely entertaining.

Okay, I can see how he might jump to the wrong conclusions here. They did not, in fact, eat the orcs.....

Orcs are duty bound to slap ya upside the head.

I love how genuinely patient Senshi is, and how good he is at listening. Chillchuck was worried but he's just vibing with new friends.

I'm sure they're having a grand old time.

What do those ears do, hmmm?

I enjoy the fact that he says "they're all treated as heinous criminals" instead of passing moral judgement and saying 'they're beyond reproach' or the like. He knows the consequences, and remarks not at all on whether or not he agrees with the judgement itself.

I could also draw some parallels here about how Japan treats all drugs but. Well. That's another topic.

Oh, noooo. As opposed to that other way of dying, where your corpse is dragged about in a carnival fashion after you die, to dry up in the light of day forever after.

Oh wait.

This bitch is really only here for the drama. 😅

FALIN?!?!?!?! MY GIRL

WHY THE LONG......body...?

....................cool. Cool cool cool cool cool. Alright. Okay okay okay. Alright.

#dungeon meshi #dungeon meshi quick reacts #chekhov reads dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi liveblog

[lasciviouspoison]

story time: how ignored my bf and then had the best sex ever!!

omg another kinktober post?? i’m on a roll!! lol, but i wrote this so long ago and never published it, please don’t hate me :( tw: chubby!reader x eren, black!reader x eren, hate!fucking, bratty!reader, mean!dom eren, overall, eren’s a meanie and u like it!

eren had never been that good of a listener. in fact, he took pride in his ability to tune out any and everyone. 

it was something you desperately tried to rid him of. 

of course he would listen to you when you needed him, always being a supportive and attentive boyfriend. but, there were times when you could feel him drifting away from the conversation. although it wasn’t always intentional, it didn’t make it hurt any less. 

and you’d tried everything to break this habit, yet, nothing worked. however, you figured that since nothing else worked on eren, giving him a taste of his own medicine might kickstart some change.

so, you made the executive decision that if he would not listen to you, then you would simply not listen to him. 

after having a long day of classes, eren finally was able to come home to you. despite being frustrated, he just wanted to see his pretty little girlfriend and rant a bit about his day. nothing too complex, right?

wrong. 

“I don’t see why I'm always involved in these fucking group projects. it always ends up with me doing the work and everyone expecting their name to be put down. I'm so over this shit yn, you have no fucking idea”. eren explained while cooking dinner. it was something he would do to relieve stress, a useful habit if you will. 

“mhm” was all you muttered from the couch. sure, you knew you were being a bitch, but you didn't care. eren had just done something similar to you last week, so it was well within your right to break even. 

“are you even listening to me?” eren peaked his head out from around the kitchen wall only to find you staring at the book that sat atop the lavender blanket strewn across your legs. 

“yeah, sure am.” 

eren walked over to you and squatted down, capturing your jaw in his hand and forcing eye contact, “well, what did I say?” 

eren really was an intimidating man. while his green eyes bore into your own, you couldn’t help but think about how big he was. both in stature and presence, your boyfriend really wasn’t someone to fuck around with. and as each part of eren was strong and foreboding, so was your will.

you shook your head out of his grasp and returned to your book, “i’m not entirely sure, something about a project. I honestly don’t care that much.” you knew were being harsh, but you needed him to feel it. 

eren’s head cocked to the right, and you could feel his confusion, “did I do something?”

you looked up from your book once more, fixing your glasses, “no ren, you did nothing”.

he squinted his eyes, “okay …. so why are you acting like that?”

“like what?”

he stood to his full height and placed his hands on his hips, “like you don’t care about what I'm saying.”

you closed the book, lifted the blanket from your legs and stood up, “because I don't”.

you began walking to the bedroom, knowing that eren was hot on your heels. you had to speed walk to prevent him from catching your arm. 

after finally making it into the room, you didn’t realize that you had given eren the perfect opportunity to cage you in and make you speak.

“fuck you mean you don’t care? what I do to you?” the bass in his voice was causing reverberations to go through your chest but you held your ground. you were tired of him not listening to you and if it caused an argument to break him out of it, then so be it 

“you don’t listen to me, so why the fuck do I gotta listen to you?! that shit aint fair to me and I'm tired of being fair to you”. 

suddenly, eren stiffened and your heart dropped. while tension hung heavily in the air, he was looking you up and down, almost like he was sizing you up. you could tell he was staring at your tits through the sheer material of your tank top, but you made no effort to hide. if anything, you felt like puffing your chest out more to show that you weren’t fucking around. 

“so you decided to act like a fuckin brat because I don't listen sometimes, is that it? you’ve suddenly decided that you don’t care about me or the things I say anymore, is that right?” he was nothing but an arms length from you, yet eren made no move to touch you.

“eren I never said I don’t care about you-”

eren put both of his hands to your face, squishing your chubby cheeks together, “nah, nah, don’t try to back down now. you wanna act like you don’t care about me, then I'll act like I don't care about you.” he was talking to you like a child with his voice slightly over a whisper. it scared you more than him yelling. 

“what does that mean?” your eyes were a little teary, so eren knew he had to wrap this up before you started to get the wrong idea.

“it means I'm gonna fuck you like I don't care about you, just for now. and then, when we’re done, we can talk about my lack of listening. okay?” his eyes were dark and his nose was brushing yours. you weren’t sure whether to be turned on or angry. 

before you knew it, he pushed your body onto the bed and removed his shirt. hurriedly, he pulled down your sleeping shorts and pulled up your tank top. 

“eren can you slow down-“ was all you could get out before he drug your body to the farthest edges of the mattress, causing your butt to hang off the bed. he threw your legs over his shoulders and gripped your ankles tightly.

he was looking down at you in a way you’d never seen before. it was almost like he was looking through you, like you weren’t a person, but an object to take his frustration out on.

“not even g’nna get to kiss u. see what happens when you’re a brat?” he swatted his hand down to the side of your right thigh, causing you to hiss.

you opened your mouth to talk but eren simply filled it with his fingers. you gagged a couple times from the pressure, but he was unfazed. he simply collected the spit from your mouth and slathered it over your pussy, making you wetter than you already were.

he dropped to his knees and drug his nose over your panties. you started to reach down towards his hair, but before you could fully grasp him, he pushed you away and bit your thigh.

“stupid fucking girl wants to try and ignore me. i’ll give you something to ignore. ion wanna hear shit from that mouth, understand?” you can feel his warm breath fan your pussy and it’s making you dizzy.

he slaps your pussy and you whimper, “i asked you a question little girl, answer it.”

you shake your head yes, not wanting to anger him any further by speaking. he barely acknowledges you and rips your panties off. you wanted, so badly, to moan at his aggressiveness, but you opted to keep silent.

meanwhile, eren was eating your pussy like a man starved. while he claimed to wanna fuck you like he didn’t care about you, he couldn’t help but to lick on the all spots that made you whine. he knew your pussy better than you did, and he was determined to show you.

he pulled his head back, shiny from your slick, and pushed his middle and ring finger into your weeping hole. “ya think ion listen? think i don’ care? you think id know how to make this cunt cry if i didn’t?”

you could barely see eren due to the tears blurring your vision. you wanted to scream out his name and apologize, but you held your tongue and continued to writhe in pleasure on the bed.

eren could feel your pussy clench and gush on his hand, so much so that a little puddle began to form in his palm. he laughed at the sight and ducked his head back down to lick at your clit. he knew just how much you loved to see his head between your legs, so he wanted to put on a show for you. he made a point to look you dead in your eyes while his tongue glided over your puffy clit, watching you bite down on your pretty lips to prevent any noise from spilling out. he watched you grip those pretty titties he loved as your head pushed further into the pillows. if he wasn’t so hell bent on punishing you, eren knew that he’d be fisting his cock at the sight.

he could feel you hold your thighs back from clenching around his head and he chuckled into your pussy, the vibrations causing your back to arch off the bed. he took the hand that wasn’t inside you and pushed your body back down, ensuring that you wouldn’t be able to run away from him.

just before you reached your orgasm, eren pulled his mouth and hand away, slapping your pussy a few times before standing up again.

without talking, eren gathered up some of your essence and slathered it along his dick. little groans and moans were making their way out of his mouth and you stared up at him starry eyed. he looked so pretty standing over you. pretty pouty lips open slightly, eyes sitting slow with his long lashes fanning his face. even the small and slightly out of place hairs on his head were perfect in this moment. before you knew it, you began to whine and rub your thighs together. if he was gonna fuck you like this, you at least wanted him to be quick about it.

he opened his fully eyes and sneered, “thought i told ya to keep quiet? and you say i don’t listen”.

his tongue ran over his teeth and he bent down to your face. without a word and nothing more than a stare, he slid his dick between your pussy. hitting your clit with every move he made.

finally, you reached your breaking point, “oh eren please. i’m sorry! i swear i’m sorry, i wont do it ever again just please fuck me!” the desperation in your voice was hurting him. he knew that you were showing him how you felt and it’s why he’s been trying to work on his listening habits. but, his internal growth isn’t all too important at the moment.

instead of responding to your pleas, eren covered your mouth with his hand and brought his face closer to yours. “keep talkin and i’ll shove your panties in your mouth. take this dick and shut up”, was all he said before he gripped his dick, tapped it on your clit a few more times, and slipped it in with a pop.

with a muffled “fuck” leaving your mouth and a slight groan from his, eren’s head lulled into your neck. finally, he started fucking you with a furry you’ve never felt before. granted, eren is great in bed. he’s rough sometimes, gentle on others, and is willing to try anything once. but for some reason, his lack of respect for you has turned your body and brain into nothing but mush.

“ah fuck princess, you’re squeezin’ too tight” he said before gripping your hips with both hands, removing the one placed on top of your mouth.

even though he told you to hush, you knew eren couldn’t stay mad for much longer. “can you, fuck - ugh, eren can you please look at me?”

he took his head out from the crook of your neck and hovered over you, all the while never slowing down his thrusts. with him still giving you this look of carelessness, he gripped your face hard and let out a severely stern “open”.

you opened your mouth and he spit into it, softly groaning after feeling you immediately clench around him. you swallowed and stuck your tongue back out just how he likes it, and you swore you saw a bit of a smile flash over his face.

“‘m gonna cum rennie. can i please?” you said as your eyes rolled back. you never had to tell eren when you were gonna cum, he always knew. the slight shake in your legs and the slight twitch of your eye were tell tale signs of a quickly approaching orgasm.

still keeping with his angry facade, he gave a quick “do what you want”. not before coating his thumb with spit and rubbing quick circles on your clit. just how you like it of course.

“oh fuck ren…i’mcummingi’mcummin- ah!” he kept going despite your pleas and the feeling of your cum splashing onto his stomach. his all time goal was making his woman feel good and if overstimulating, see borderline killing, her was the case, then he’d do it.

after feeling your body calm down, eren pulled out of you and flipped you onto your stomach. “stick your ass in the air”.

still coming down from your orgasm, your movements were a bit delayed. moving too slow for eren’s liking, he picked your hips up and propped you up on your knees himself, quickly fucking back into you.

it didn’t take long before his strokes got sloppy. you felt him grip your hair and pull. as your head flung backwards, very hard, if i may add, you could feel eren’s cum shoot deep into you, slowly filling you to the brim.

after a few seconds of heavy breathing and slow grinding, eren pulled out of you, gave your pussy a kiss, and left. he returned shortly after with a rag and began to wipe you clean.

as your body fell to the side, you were able to face eren once more. no longer were his eyes empty, but they were full of care and concern.

“do you need anything? water or a snack? i was more rough on you than usual so i wanna make sure you don’t feel funny”. his eyes were so expressive, voice so soft, and his hands were so warm. it’s crazy to think that this soft and sweet boy was just fucking into you with no remorse not even five minutes ago.

you shook your head, “no, i’m alright”. the sudden raspiness of your voice caught the both of you by surprise, causing your hand to immediately grab at your throat.

eren picked you up and sat you upright. he ran his hands over your neck, checking your lymph nodes and general neck area. “your throat feels fine, it’s probably just really dry from not talking. i’m gonna grab you some water, don’t move!” he said before running off. ‘typical nursing student’, you thought to yourself, trying not to laugh.

when he returned, he held the bottle to your lips, refusing to allow you to move a muscle.

after taking down some water, eren soon began, “listen. i know i’m not the best listener. i’ve been trying to get better, but i know it still upsets you and i’m sorry. i’m not mad at you for acting that way, it just shows me that, that’s how it feels. i’m gonna get better, i swear i am. so please don’t be upset with me anymore”. his green eyes were so sad looking, it was like looking at a puppy.

you ran a hand over his cheek and smiled, “promise im not upset baby. thank you for telling me you’ll try harder. i can’t wait to see it”. he tucked some of your hair behind your ear before pulling you into a deep kiss.

soon, the two of you fell back into your peaceful afternoon routine. after your shared shower, eren went back to the kitchen and started back with dinner. thankfully he was cognitive enough to shut the stove off before hand. finally, you returned to your spot on the couch, book in hand and a newly positive attitude.

#eren #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x chubby reader #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren jeager smut #want him to make me cry so bad :(

[jsluvtzu]

location

im nayeon x fem!reader

summary: there’s no point in hiding, she already knows.

cw: hs!au, smuttt, mentions of killing, cursing, nayeon is soso jealous, men dni

wc: 2.7k

a/n: this took forever to come out i’m sorry!! but jealous/possessive/toxic nayeon.. i need you…

“wait, so you’ve never gone anywhere without letting her know first?”, your friend was appalled at hearing how nayeon kept tabs on you at all times.

“no, never. i always have to call her first and tell her exactly where i’m going and when i’m gonna be back home. it’s fucking ridiculous.”

you were beyond frustrated with your girlfriend’s possessive nature and borderline stalking.

“well.. except for today.”

“holy shit?? she doesn’t know you’re here? what if she kills you..” your friend’s eyes widen at her sudden realization, “what if she kills me??”, she points at herself and watches as you smack your forehead and lean back against her couch, cackling at her ridiculous question.

“mia, she’s not gonna kill you, relax. she’s just a little protective.”

honestly you were trying to convince both her and yourself. there was always a small possibility that your girlfriend could actually kill somebody.

you knew how carried away she got when it came to you.

—

nayeon was the captain of the cheer team. the popular superstar who ran the social scene at school. she was always getting hit on by random boys and no matter how many times she rejected them, they always came back desperate for more.

people basically kissed the ground she walked on, willing to do anything to please her and make her fall for them. it was an honor to get even a second of im nayeon’s attention.

you however, couldn’t care less even if she was in the same class as you.

in your 6th period physics class, being able to have nayeon as a lab partner was like a dream come true. boys would swarm her desk like bees immediately at the mention of a partner lab, but you never understood the big deal behind it.

of course you thought nayeon was pretty.

her daily pinked-out outfits, perfectly styled hair, not too heavy makeup, and the skin-tight cheer uniform she wore every friday. everything she wore accentuated her proportions insanely.

she was beautiful, but losing your mind over her like everyone else was just pointless to you.

you had one person you were willing to be friends with out of the whole class. mia.

she was just like you. normal and not nayeon obsessed. the two of you always stayed towards the back of the room and kept to yourselves. nayeon noticed that.

well more specifically, nayeon noticed you.

she noticed the way your hair was always a little messy, your oversized shirts always had a little wrinkle to them, your pants were always too baggy, and your worn out converse were caked in with dirt and childhood memories.

she could fix you.

when nayeon first approached you about her overdue homework in the halls, you acted as if she was bothering you instead of granting you the privilege of her presence. it wasn’t the usual interaction she would have with somebody.

unlike the rest of the school, you were the only one able to make eye contact with her and not fold in half.

for the first time, nayeon could have a genuine conversation with someone without being treated like a celebrity.

you were special to her. and she wanted you all to herself.

when you two started dating, word spread around like wildfire. everyone wanted you dead.

the football team threatened you everyday, calling you a lowlife loser and confidently describing the ways they would steal nayeon away from you.

it’s not like you were worried about nayeon being “stolen” from you. it was bound to happen given her popularity. but nobody knew that it was actually nayeon who was worried about you being stolen from her.

she was terrified of losing the one person who could actually love her for who she is and not just what she looks like.

nayeon was worried about one person in particular. your friend, mia. you were always oblivious to the fact that she had a slight thing for you.

the subtle touches here and there, the way she complimented you, the way she looked at you. it was all just platonic to you, but to nayeon, she was a threat.

now imagine how she feels when she finds out you’re suddenly at mia’s house. alone with her.

—

there was a random movie playing in the background while you both sat on the couch sharing a blanket, talking about your girl problems.

mia listened to you with a heavy heart, knowing she could definitely treat you better than nayeon can.

“is she just protective or is she crazy..? i mean you deserve to go places without her knowing your whereabouts 24/7 right? it’s your life, you can do whatever you want. if i was your girlfriend, i wouldn’t be so fucking insane.”, mia was disappointed at how long you’ve had to put up with this.

“hey, she’s not insane okay, it’s all just new to her.. the whole authenticity thing with another person. she doesn’t know how to handle it yet.”

you were slightly offended at mia’s harsh words about your girlfriend, but you agreed with her nonetheless. it was draining having to constantly tell nayeon where you were all the time.

a sudden buzz on your phone made you jump and freeze at the fear of facing your reality.

nayeonie 🎀 1m ago i’m outside.

“what is it, y/n?” mia asked with a hint of concern in her tone, seeing how your demeanor changed.

“she’s.. outside.”, your heart dropped reading your girlfriend’s text, scrambling your brain together to figure out how she tracked you down.

“what do you mean she’s outside??”

“i don’t fucking know, mia. okay?! she just found out somehow, and now she’s fucking here.”, you didn’t mean to yell at her, but your anxiety overtook you.

“i have to go.”

you threw the knitted blanket off your legs and grabbed your bag, racing out the door without saying another word.

nayeon’s car was parked along the curb and her almost illegally tinted windows blocked you from seeing her face.

you slowly walked towards her car, clutching your belongings tightly. a weak attempt at stopping your heart from beating out of your chest.

when nayeon was angry, it was like a flipped switch. she became explosive and aggressive.

but surprisingly, when you opened the door, nayeon kept her eyes straight ahead. she didn’t say a word to you. she had her left arm hanging loosely over the top of the steering wheel, and her right hand gripping the gearshift, fingers tapping a frantic beat.

you were afraid to break the silence. the atmosphere was suffocating and filled with nayeon’s concealed, but obvious irritation.

“how.. how did you know where i was?”, your leg bouncing restlessly and your voice hoarse from nervousness.

nayeon didn’t respond and that only worried you even more. usually she would be screaming in your face about something like this, but today? pure silence.

“nay.. answer me? please?”, you turned to look at your girlfriend and saw her stoic expression. you hated this. you would rather just hear her go off on you instead.

“i’m sorry for not telling you, okay? i just needed some space.”

nayeon slammed down on the brakes and your whole body jerked forward. your mouth fell open, shocked and unable to form any words. you were just glad it was a secluded road with no cars behind.

“space? you just needed some fucking space?”

nayeon stared daggers into your soul, her eyes darkened by her jealousy.

she pulled over to the gravelly side of the road, taking her key out and clicking off her seatbelt.

somehow she appeared on your right side in the blink of an eye, yanking the door open and forcefully grasping your arm.

nayeon peeled you out of the seat, simultaneously opening the backseat door with one hand. she guided you forward until you reached the perfect spot for her to shove you down into the hard leather.

you winced at her roughness and caressed your head in pain, composing yourself enough to sit up and scoot yourself back against the window.

“thought you could just go to some other bitch’s house and i wouldn’t find out hm?” nayeon slid into the seat behind the passenger’s and slammed her car door shut.

she was smiling like an absolute psychopath. her face contrasted her words drastically between her soft tone and bared teeth.

“was the ‘space’ you needed in her bed? huh? needed some space between your fucking legs?”

nayeon surveyed the skimpy clothes you wore, messing with the thin fabric of your skirt.

“you even dressed up all nice and pretty for her baby. you were tempting her weren’t you? hm? just wanted her to see all your pretty parts?”

nayeon rubbed her warm hands along the length of your legs to the insides of your thighs, squeezing them lightly on the way up.

“please can we just talk about this, nay. i don’t wanna fuck right now.”, you were trying so hard to fight back the urge to give in when you felt your girlfriend’s hand get dangerously close to your clit.

nayeon hummed and moved her hands up to your waist, rubbing her thumbs over whatever was exposed from your tight crop top.

“but there’s nothing to talk about, is there, pretty girl? you knew this would happen. you knew i would find you.”

nayeon moved to the middle of the seat and grabbed your legs, pulling you over to straddle her lap. her hands flew to your ass, rubbing and grabbing at your flesh under your skirt, making you whine.

“nayeon, i’m serious. i’ve never told you mia’s address before, you’re fucking scaring me.”, your hands wrapped freely around her neck, feeling her warmth radiating against your fingertips. your faces were impossibly close together in her cramped car and your lips grazed each other faintly.

she smiled at you again. “i have my ways, sweetheart.”, nayeon leaned in to kiss you, but you pulled away.

“i’m not giving you anything until you talk to me.”

you weren’t going to deny the fact that you were unbelievably horny right now, you just wanted to clear the air beforehand.

“i don’t think you have much of a choice in this position, angel.”

throwing your head back in annoyance was a bad idea.

nayeon took that opportunity to attack your pulse point with her soft lips and wet tongue.

her arms held your body tight against her, locking you in with no escape.

your whiny moans only gave nayeon the primal urge to nip and suck on your perfume soaked skin.

she kissed her way down your throat to bite the point of your shoulder and ran her tongue back up to your ear, whispering in a deep, raspy voice that sent chills down your spine.

“g’na mark you all up for that desperate little bitch to see exactly who you belong to.”

bruises and bite marks immediately formed on every inch of your neck, evidence of your girlfriend’s sadistic message to mia.

nayeon shifted her hand underneath your skirt and palmed your pussy through the damp fabric of your cotton panties, cooing and mocking you for being turned on by her teasing.

she kept one arm wrapped around your lower back, her middle finger tracing circles lightly around your clothed clit.

soft moans escaped your lips and you found yourself subconsciously grinding against nayeon’s hand.

“aw, is my pretty baby getting all needy for me? does she need me to fuck her that bad?”

you nodded your head and whined in nayeon’s ear, trying your best to sound as sweet as possible.

nayeon’s lips made contact with your neck again, sinking her teeth into your flesh, driving you absolutely crazy.

she quickly moved your panties to the side, giving herself free reign to make you feel good.

she ran her fingers through your slit a couple times before inserting herself inside you slowly.

nayeon’s fingers were long. everytime you compared hand sizes, the length of them next to yours triggered the most sinful thoughts in your mind. the way she could palm your full asscheek with one grab drove you crazy with need.

the tips of her two fingers kissed the deepest part of your cervix when she bottomed out inside of you. she kept her movements still and allowed you some time to adjust to her length.

you let out a drawn out moan and brought your own hand down to grab at nayeon’s wrist.

nayeon pulled out of you slowly, staring at you with nothing but lust in her eyes.

when she left your pussy feeling empty, you mewled and gave her your best puppy eyes, pleading for her to continue fucking you with her stupidly long fingers.

“please.. just fuck me already, please baby, ‘need you..”, your hips chased her fingers in search of your own pleasure, but to no avail. nayeon just tsked at you and gripped your hip to stop you from squirming.

“you know what i want, sweet girl.”

it took you a moment to realize what she was asking for, but you quickly remembered how much nayeon liked to watch you fuck yourself on her fingers.

you nodded and sank yourself down slowly onto nayeon’s digits, keeping eye contact with her the whole time. you forced your eyes to stay open, letting out short, breathy moans.

“that’s it baby, that’s my girl.”, nayeon praised you as you moved your hips in a rhythm, riding her fingers and pressing your forehead against hers.

“just keep looking pretty like this for me. fuck.. all for me. you’re all mine, right baby?”

your eyes were squeezed shut, but you could tell that nayeon’s gaze never left yours. her tongue running across her lips, licking them to keep herself together.

she helped you out by thrusting her fingers in sync with your movements, matching your pace. your clit landed perfectly on her flexed palm every time you lowered your core back down.

“yes, fuck- ‘m all yours nay- only yours.”

nayeon could tell you were getting close when she felt your walls tightening around her and your pace getting sloppier.

“yeah? you mean that?”

“mhm, fuck- nobody else can fuck me like this. god, you feel too good-“

you were so, so close to cumming. the built up pleasure in you was ready to release, but nayeon had a different idea in mind.

hearing you reaffirm that you were hers made it incredibly hard for her to control the urge to just fuck you senseless, but she didn’t want you to have that sweet release. not after the stunt you pulled. you were just lucky she was even touching you right now.

nayeon snatched her fingers out just when you were at the edge of your high, steadying you with both hands back at your waist.

“aw, did my dumb little baby really think she was gonna cum after she tried to be sneaky like that? poor thing..”, she was taunting you now by slapping your clit harshly, knowing it would make you finish anyways.

you gripped at nayeon’s shoulders, bunching up the sleeves of her shirt in your hands and hiding your face in the crook of her neck, mumbling out small apologies in between choked whimpers.

nayeon heard another alert ring on your phone. you were too fucked out and tired to be aware of it, so she hugged you with one arm and leaned forward to reach for your phone in the cup holder up front.

she typed in your password and went to your messages to see a text from her.

mia 🧸 2m ago u good?? hope ur gf didn’t get jealous or wtv lmao

your “gf” laughed at mia’s audacity, tapping the camera icon next to the message bar.

“smile for the camera, baby.”

nayeon lifted your head off her shoulder and adjusted the strands of hair that stuck to your forehead with sweat, angling the phone to capture every freshly purple mark she left on your neck and your cutely flushed face.

you heard the sound of the photo being sent and looked down to see nayeon with a big smile on her face, typing something along with it.

“ 'd you really have to do that, nay?”, you shook your head at her while wiping the sweat off your top lip.

“it’s either this, or i kill her and her whole family.”

and she meant every word.

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop gg #nayeon x reader #nayeon smut #im nayeon

[piratefishmama]

Fake It 'Till You Make It | Part 7

“Are you sure we’re ready for this?” Eddie didn’t feel ready for it. Although they’d definitely spent the better half of the morning and a little of the afternoon getting used to kissing, something Eddie would remember for the rest of his life and maybe thank Dustin for at a later date, and maybe curse him a little for because Steve wouldn’t take it any further than kissing.

Dude had some impressive self-control. No handsy behaviour, no leading, didn’t even follow when Eddie tried subtly nudging it. They had a goal in mind, and he wasn’t getting side tracked for anything.

Eddie might have felt self-conscious about that, had he not kept feeling Steve’s grin against his lips whenever he tried, or those little warning nips which both told him to stay on track and fed the mischievous little gremlin that was his brain. He was growing his confidence!

Steve was helping him be confident!

“We’ve gotta be, sooner we get this over with, the better.” They were sat in his BMW in the Harrington driveway, engine off, psyching themselves up. Steve climbed out of the car,

Eddie following shortly after with a grumbled “Better for who exactly?”

Steve wished he had an answer for that. But the longer he sat with the idea that they had to reveal this ‘relationship’ to his parents, the more daunting it became. It’d be fine. He knew it’d be fine, the worst case scenario was that they wouldn’t like Eddie, okay no worst case scenario was that their behaviours had been performative in an attempt to call his bluff, but that was looking less and less likely.

They could just… not like him. Not think him good enough. Judge his clothes, his hair, his social class, they could be mean, out of touch rich people so easily. But at least if they got this over with quickly, he’d know if it’d work.

“…The plan I guess. If they don’t like you then—”

“Jobs off?” At least Eddie could say he’d gotten to make out with Steve Harrington, to approximately zero people because who could he brag about that with? It was a personal victory for himself.

“Mmhm... that’s ok right?” Slowly they made for the door.

“Sure, no harm no foul, I got to make-out with Steve Harrington and I’d get to go back to bed, I’m calling that a win.” He didn’t care if it went to Steve’s ego, and from the smile lighting up his face it did a little, he got to make out with Steve Harrington. “Let’s get this over with, Stevie.” He could handle a little rich person judgement if they didn’t like him.

His whole shtick was aiming for parents to not like him, he wasn’t made of glass. He could handle it. And as such, he gave Steve’s perfect ass a light smack because honestly when else was he going to get the chance to do that, and went off in front headed for the big, over the top red double door entry.

Steve, only momentarily stunned by the smack, shook himself out of it and jogged to catch up, hissing a harried “wait up, Eddie!” That only served to earn an over the shoulder grin from his ‘boyfriend’ before he was turning and walking backwards, amusement dimpling his cheeks and lighting up his face.

He really was attractive, wasn’t he? Not a thought Steve figured he’d be having at random but... it wasn’t unwelcome. Eddie was... pretty. Pretty and fun.

Maybe the kids were right, maybe Eddie was worth the effort to get to know.

So it wasn’t as much of a surprise as maybe it should have been that... he actually really hoped they would like him.

Wasn’t that an interesting thought?

“Okay just... be—”

“-haaaave? Be pleasant? Beeee polite?” Be anything but himsel—

“Yourself Eddie. Be yourself.” Oh. His surprised must have showed because instead of opening the front door, Steve paused and decided in a moment of sheer ‘fuck it’ cupped Eddie’s cheeks and just held his face. “Be yourself... you’re not unlikeable, you’re charming, and funny, and goofy, and they’re going to like you” God he hoped so. His thumb caressed the soft, warm cushion of Eddie’s cheeks taking in those big brown doe eyes so wide, full of surprise “so just be yourself, alright?”

“... Kiss for good luck?” Maybe it was just a bid to lessen the tension, the feelings bubbling within from being touched so gently, but it worked about as efficiently as a chocolate fireguard, because Steve kissed him.

It was soft, and chaste, quick so the neighbours wouldn’t see, but it chased any nerves Eddie might have had right out the metaphorical window. Didn’t help the feelings from erupting like goddamn Vesuvius but, the nerves vanished.

“It’s gonna be okay” it’d be okay. “Walk behind me alright? I’ll introduce you and we’ll riff from there” they were doing this. He was about to out himself to two complete wild card strangers in shitsville Indiana.

It’d be okay, it’d be okay. It’d be okay.

“Okay... promise me they’re not gonna turn on me, like... they can hate me but...” hurting him was... a real risk.

“Eddie... I’m with you. Okay? They turn on you... I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe.”

“Even though they’re your parents?”

Steve tucked a stray curl behind Eddie’s ear and offered him a warm, comforting smile “I’ll side with you long before I side with them, I swear. They wanna get to you, they’d have to go through me.” He was both younger and stronger than his parents. They tried anything and he wouldn’t hesitate to get between them. “And trust me, they wouldn’t be able to.”

Steve may not have been known for winning fights but... he was still pretty damn big, could definitely overpower a couple of older rich people. “...Okay.” He’d be safe. Steve would protect him.

He could be brave.

Steve opened the door and stepped inside, Eddie following behind him trying not to think too hard about how the last time he’d been there it’d been at night and it’d been heaving with teenagers being stupid.

There’d been alcohol, he’d been selling drugs, it looked different during the day.

“Steven?! Is that you?!” Came a feminine voice from somewhere within. Steve seemed to know where though, because his hand found Eddie’s, lacing their fingers together to gently tug him in that direction until they reached the dining room door where Steve let him go to make himself known

“Yeah it’s me, is Dad home?” Eddie remained out of sight as instructed, feeling the nerves bubble in his gut again, kind of missed Steve’s hand around his, it felt nice.

“He’s in the living room with me, is something wrong?” She sounded pleasant, inquisitive, Eddie had never met Lynda Harrington, never seen her before in his life, not even photos as the house didn’t seem to have them.

The Harrington’s didn’t like clutter.

They could do this. They had their bare bones story, they were comfortable kissing, and apparently holding hands was easy too, definitely didn’t make his chest do a wibbly little thing. Didn’t make his chest do that at all. Steve had him wait just to the side of the doorway as he entered, definitely the bravest man Eddie had ever met in his entire goddamn life.

Didn’t know a single person capable of a more ballsy move than what Steve Harrington was about to do.

Even if the roles were reversed and he was telling Wayne about Steve it still wouldn’t be as ballsy! Steve was a catch, it’d be like the Jester had bagged the King. The other way round… Steve was clearly way out of his league.

“Nothing wrong, no. I uh… I wanted to talk to you about something.” Eddie leaned back against the wall, let the flat surface of it ground him as he listened. It’d be okay. He’d be okay. “You know how I’ve been… less than… enthused, about all the… ehem, potential people you’ve been trying to introduce me to?”

“How can we forget? Speaking of which, Heather, you know Heather, the Holloway’s daughter?” Eddie stuffed the bend of his thumb into his mouth to stop himself from making a noise, yeah, good luck with Heather, she was busy with Megan.

“Heh, yeah, yeah I know Heather, we got our life guard certification together, but she’s irrelevant, not—not irrelevant I don’t mean it like that” god what were their facial expressions like if Steve was stumbling so much “she’s… not—okay, heh, start over. The reason that I’ve been against all this is… well you know how I said I’m… I’m bisexual?” Eddie assumed at least one of them nodded during the brief pause “w-well, I’m… already seeing someone. And I have been for a few weeks now…”

“What?! Steven! Why didn’t you tell me, heavens now I have to cancel with—”

“With whom, mom?” Maybe Steve’s fears weren’t as unfounded as some might have thought them to be.

“…Nobody. Go on.”

“Well… I didn’t tell you, because… he… was nervous about being known, which y’know, fair, he doesn’t know you, it could be dangerous for him, frankly I didn’t even know you’d be totally okay with it, but—but with the week away coming up I was hoping that maybe… maybe you’d let me bring him with us?” There it was, the in, it was coming, he’d have to be seen soon. Breeeath, it’d be okay. He’d be okay.

“Oh!” Oh? What did oh mean? Was oh bad? Would oh be—

“Could we meet him first?” Masculine, Steve’s father. Holy shit. His dad. His dad. John Harrington. Fuck.

“Yeah! I uhm… he’s here actually. Uh… one second.” Steve dipped back out into the walk through where Eddie looked at him through wide, slightly panicked doe eyes. “Hey… it’s okay…” could have paid him millions, it wouldn’t erase the fright that seemed to settle into his bones when the time to shine arrived. He’d never had stage fright before. Maybe he should have given Greg, the kid playing Hamlet more of a break during that school production of Hamlet he’d flipped out just before. “Eddie… c’mere” he drew Eddie in, coaxed him away from that wall and drew him into his embrace. “It’s okay, I’m right here, it’s safe, nothing and no one is going to hurt you while I’m here, okay?”

“Steven, is he—” Steve turned his head to look back at his father in the doorway, Eddie just about visible in his arms, wide eyed and frankly freaking out just a little “Oh Steven…”

Part 9

#PirateWrites #FakeItTillYouMakeItFiclet #Steddie #No Upside Down AU #Fake Dating AU #Eddie's scared kitten mode: activated

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ SUPER SHY

ft. sae itoshi

tags. highschool au, a bit of cussing, gn!reader, the word ‘pretty’ is used but i still believe they're gn, all fluff ! / author's note. based on the song, super shy by newjeans!! another no skip album from the newjeans girlies!!! :3 I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. proofread, but i'm dumb and notice errors a month after i post something so </3 is he ooc? probably, but i love him so it doesn't matter

“do you even think he even knows my name?” you pout as ask your long time best friend, mai, if she thinks sae itoshi, someone you've developed a tiny crush on, at least knows your name.

you've sat in front of him since the beginning of the school year in your math class, but never mustering up enough courage to talk to him. (you personally think you've “talked” to him when he asked you for a pencil, but mai thinks otherwise, “it only counts when you actually have a full on conversation with him.” she tells you.)

“hmm, typically i'd say yes because of how long we've been in school, but you haven't even talked to him. ever. so, no.” mai smirks, she's sure he knows your name because of attendance being taken verbally daily, but decides to tease you so you finally decide to talk to him.

“you know for a best friend, you're really great at reassuring me.” you sarcastically say as your dramatically lean back into your chair.

mai was actually great at comforting and reassuring people, but at this moment in time, she seems very annoyed that you haven't made any moves on sae and seems to be pushing you to more and more to everyday.

mai laughs before confidently saying, “i know!” with a flip to her hair.

you have no idea if you're dreaming or not.

did you really just get paired up with the sae itoshi for the upcoming partner quiz?

did the gods finally answer your prayers every time there was a partner quiz to get paired up with him?

honestly, you could care less the reason. but you swear this is a dream and your heart started racing so fucking fast the moment your teacher said your's and sae's name in one sentence.

you swear you're about to pass out when sae gives you a small nod as he moves to the seat next to you so it's easier for the two of you to work together. wait—did he just give you a small smile too?

fuck him for being so pretty and smelling so good. it is so hard to concentrate on your review for the quiz while sitting next to him. you hope he doesn't see your side glances every few seconds and how your face is ever so slightly burning up.

“hey, you okay? you've barely done any problems..” sae suddenly says, breaking the awkward silence as he looks at your paper.

“yeah!” you nearly jump at his words and immediately sit up, composing yourself as best as you can before turning your attention to your practically blank paper.

sae chuckles before placing his paper on your desk for you to copy his work. who knew the genius (on the field and academically) would let someone copy his work?

“you're a mess,” he laughs, how dare he laugh at you and how dare he point out how flustered you were. “but you're cute, y/n.”

you swear you stop functioning.

sae has been on your mind all the time after getting paired up with him. he even starts talking to you in class even after he's not required to. he's a little bolder than he gives off to be. maybe you're being delusional, but is he ever so slightly flirting with you?

but, nonetheless sae is actually a sweetheart and even starts hangs out with you at lunch, (and buys you lunch if you ever forget yours!) and walks you home from school.

“hey.” sae muttered as he plopped down next to you at the lunch table.

“hi.” you say, as you swallow a bite of your food. the food was actually his from home, but he insisted on giving you his and it would be fine and that he could just buy something from the cafeteria.

coincidentally, the cafeteria was selling something you didn't particularly enjoy, so you were grateful sae gave you his. but, still denying it at first about how you didn't want to take his because of how frequently he buys you lunch.

weird, you swear you're luck has increased like crazy ever since you started hanging out with sae, getting higher scores on tests, (he's been studying with you when you're having trouble on a unit) and getting things you've been talking about wanting for a while out of the blue. (he's the person you've been ranting about wanting these things and he secretly places them in your locker the next day)

hey, maybe he was a lucky charm. and he was stupidity handsome too. and he had the sweetest personality ever, and—

you feel that you only fall for him more everyday. you were so fucking shy around him at first, but now you feel comfortable around him, hell even at the level of comfortable-ness you feel with mai.

sae itoshi was odd, but he was special.

it's been a while since you became friends with sae. summer was nearing and your relationship friendship is at an all time high.

one day though, sae asks you to meet up with him at a nearby park; a park that you enjoyed visiting while on walks, the flowers still somehow just as beautiful as when they first bloomed even as the heat reels in.

you throw on a cute outfit before heading out to meet sae. it wasn't strange that sae brought you to breathtakingly beautiful spots, but this one felt particularly special.

“hey.” sae greets in his stupidity smooth voice. he looks as handsome as ever, except his hair a little different which makes him look all the more handsome.

he's sitting on a bench under a flower tree that has lost a majority of its petals, somehow it still looks beautiful.

“hi.” you wave and smile before taking a seat next to him under the tree.

“so, why'd you bring me here today?” you know why, simply just sitting and talking was sae's favorite way to spend time with you, but something inside you urges you to ask.

“just the normal, i guess.” he shrugs, before ushering you to start talking about whatever was on your mind.

whenever it was gossip, something that has been bothering you, or a new show you started watching, sae loved listening to you talk. he looked at you with the most intense expression ever while you blabbed on about whatever, carefully listening to every word that comes out of your pretty mouth.

he isn't even listening anymore. something about you today that just.. makes him stop listening. you looked so fucking pretty today. don't get the wrong idea—he thought you looked pretty everyday, but something about you today that pushes him to finally say the words he's been dying to tell you for a while now.

“earth to sae—hey! are you even listening?” you call out to him, your voice snapping him out of the trance.

how long was he not responding to you? oh god, it seems like a quite a bit since you were touching his shoulder.

oh. you were touching his shoulder.

sae takes a deep breath before calming himself and averting his gaze back to you.

“be mine, idiot.” sae blurts. okay, he didn't mean to say idiot, but he knows you don't take it seriously, so he stares at you with his stupid pretty eyes, waiting for your response.

you are suddenly taken back to the emotions you felt when you first finally talked to sae—a flustered mess, shy as hell.

if anyone passed by they would've guessed you two were having a staring contest because of how long you were staring at each other in silence, either of you not seeming to blink.

you two stay in silence before you finally talk after what seemed like a century.

“what?” is all you manage to breathe out. not an ideal response, but hey, you need to absolutely be 100% you heard him right.

sae huffs before speaking again.

“you heard me. be mine. i'm tired of you not being mine.”

you feel so warm inside and you swear you're gonna pass out.

before you can say anything, sae gently pulls you close to him and kisses you. and holy shit, his lips are so so soft.

you can't help but melt into his kiss and touch, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in a little closer.

he pulls away smirking.

“guess that's a yes?” he knows the affect he has on you and you hate it.

“no.” you jokingly roll your eyes, knowing sae knows you don't mean it at all. your shyness—whenever it had been around him or someone else, sae had always thought it was so cute.

“you wish.” he chuckles, before pulling you into his chest.

your shyness wouldn't drive sae away. never in a million years.

#blue lock x reader #sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #sae itoshi #blue lock #blue lock fluff #im extremely normal about him…

[raeofsunrise]

skate to me

pairing: clapton davis x gn!reader

summary: !BASED OFF A REQUEST I FORGOT TO ATTACH THIS TO! clapton was absolutely astonished when he saw that the person who skated right by him in the hallway was right here, next to him, in his science class.

warnings: light cursing, i think?? i’m not fucking sure at this point

word count: 1.0k

author’s note: so sorry it took me like a whole month to get back! 😭this has been crazy ass couple of months, and i just couldn’t get anything out if i tried. i honestly think that i might take a break on writing for clapton and characters like mike, simply because i don’t think i have any motivation to write for them. i don’t wanna let you guys down, but i also don’t wanna write crappy fics, either. i’ll say on a separate post who i’ll be writing for. thanks so much for your guys support! and with that, enjoy ☆

clapton thought he was the only one who skated through the hallways of grizzly lake highschool. it wasn’t like he gatekeeped it or anything, but it was his thing. and everyone knew that.

so when he felt you brush against him in the hallway this morning, he barely got a glimpse of your shoes and purple hoodie before you skated away. it frustrated him—

wait, skated?

he thought he was crazy. he had to have hallucinated those rollerskates. but the sound when you rushed by him, those had to have been rollerskates. but nobody else but him did that. that was his thing. besides his ego being a bit affected, he was more excited than anything. maybe he could make a new friend. he’d never met anyone else who skated, especially at school. but where did you go? no, more importantly, what class were you in? clapton was not famous for being patient, so this would be difficult.

he begrudgingly made his way to science class, upset that he might not see you until passing period, where the hallway would be filled with what felt like thousands upon thousands of people. no way he was gonna see you during that. and if he tried to find you during lunch? he’d definitely look like a total creep. so this was a lose lose situation. he’d never be able to talk to the stranger with the skates.

this made clapton’s walk to class even more frustrating. throughout the whole day, all he could hope for was to hear your skates against the ground. but he didn’t. not once. it was the end of the day, and he was heading to his last class. clapton was just about done with everything when he saw a pair of skates next to a desk. and just above that desk was a purple hoodie. and even more above that was probably the most gorgeous person he’d ever seen.

he was practically just standing and staring in the doorway. of course you weren’t staring back at him, he thought. you were busy listening to music and getting ready for class, getting your notebooks and everything.

clapton didn’t move until another student shoved him out of the way so they couldd get through, muttering something under their breath in the process. clapton couldn’t care less, though. because there was an open seat next to you and what perfect timing was it that he was the only person who hadn’t sat down yet? this coincidence made him believe that maybe there was a god. maybe it was you.

his mood an entire 180 from how it was less than 2 minutes ago, he sat down right next to you, waiting for you to notice him like an excited child.

not noticing someone had sat next to you, you weren’t expecting someone to be right next to you. normally, as far as first days go, people liked to haze the new kid. so someone looking eager to talk to you was not a good sign.

“hi,” you say slowly, going to look at him.

“hey there, gorgeous.” he said. as soon as that came out of his mouth he knew that was a big yikes. (ayo?? 😟)

your eyes widened. what the hell was his problem?

“woah, coming off a little strong there, aren’t we?” you ask.

how could he save this already trainwreck of a conversation? if he could even call it that.

“sorry, don’t know why i said that. i just, uh,”

shit, shit, shit! think of something clapton!

“you skate, right? that’s pretty cool. i do, too.” he held up his skate board.

still suspicious and not at all buying this “no ill-intentions” act, you pull your skates closer to your desk.

“yeah, i do.”

he continues, “well i just thought that since we both skate we could—“

but he was cut off, as class had apparently started while you two were conversing and your teacher was not happy with either of you.

clapton heard the teacher say both of your last names, followed by a very stern “detention!”

this wasn’t anything surprising to him, but one look at you told him that this was not how you were expecting your first day to go.

you rolled your eyes and shot him a dirty look.

“thanks a lot, davis.”

so instead of a trainwreck, his attempt to talk to you was a total and complete fuck-up.

great.

——————

the end of class came painstakingly slow, and he saw you hurrying to head out so you didn’t have to walk to detention with him. i mean, could he blame you. he practically screwed over your entire day.

clapton always took himself as an optimist, so maybe he could still save this. right?

as you put on your skates, unaware that this might land you in even more trouble, you felt someone tap you on your shoulder.

there was nobody else left in the classroom besides you and the person who you did not wanna see. so you turn around, and with no surprise, there was the douche who landed you in detention.

“oh, are you here to get me suspended, too?” you ask.

he couldn’t help but laugh a bit.

“yeah, i deserve that. sorry about all…this, by the way. i really didn’t mean for you to get in trouble.” he said.

damn, you thought. he’s not a bad actor.

you smiled a not-so-friendly smile back at him. “sure, you didn’t.”

you try to skate away and out of the classroom, but he catches up to you on his skateboard.

“no, seriously! i just wanted to talk to you. i’ve never met anyone who also skates, and i just thought you were really cool and pretty and—“

you stopped skating ahead of him a while ago, but he didn’t notice that, so he kept skateboarding right into an open locker’s door.

you let out a laugh that definitely let every teacher in the vicinity know you weren’t where you were supposed to be right now, but you couldn’t help it.

clapton got up, rubbing the side of his face.

you walk up to him and pat him on the cheek.

“okay, i believe you.” you say, crossing your arms afterwards.

he lets out a smile that you’re pretty sure you’re gonna have to get used to.

“anything i can do to make it up to you?” he asks.

you take off your backpack and shove it in his arms.

“carry this for me?” you say.

“that’s the least i can do.”

#josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #clapton davis #clapton davis x reader #josh hutcherson x reader #josh futturman x reader #peeta mellark x reader

[qprstobin]

Stobin Different First Meeting AU where they go to prom together. This was meant to be an au post and turned into a mini fic oops (written completely within a tumblr post so sorry for the poor quality)

(edit: realized I should link the fic I was inspired by for those who don't follow me and so didn't see me reblog it earlier)

Steve doesn't necessarily want to go to prom, right? Like yeah, he'd been imagining it for a while, but now that he was very, very single it just didn't have the same shine that it used to. And he really wasn't ready to start dating yet. However, he didn't want to just, not go to prom, and also knew it would seem really weird (and pretty fucking sad) if he didn't go.

Which leaves him in a conundrum.

He thought for a while that maybe he would go with one of the junior cheerleaders. While he didn't have any close friends anymore, he was still friendly with plenty of people. There were girls that wouldn't be going to prom unless they had a senior boyfriend - some he had even gone on dates with in the past who wouldn't think a single prom date meant that he wanted a new girlfriend.

However, he is pretty sure most of those girls would have... other expectations for the night. And honestly? He isn't quite sure that he was ready to get back on that horse either.

... Not that he thought women were horses.

He's pretty sure men are normally the ones called horses in riding metaphors.

Anyway.

That left him stuck. He couldn't just not go to prom, but also didn't want to wind up trapped on an actual date with someone. So who could he ask?

His solution ended up coming from an odd place.

Robin Buckley was... quite honestly, kind of a weirdo.

She was cute, in an alternative sort of way. She never took any of his shit (he wasn't completely sure she even liked him) but also reluctantly laughed at the snarky shit he said under his breath during their Film History class. And not in the fake giggly way girls did when they were flirting, but didn't actually care about what he was saying, just the way he said it. She actually seemed to think he was funny. Even if that revelation seemed to piss her off.

The only reason he was even in Film History that semester - and therefore, knew who she was - was for the easy A. He got to watch movies in class, and watch movies for homework. He was willing to plow through a couple of shitty essays in exchange for a class that he didn't feel like a complete idiot in.

(Well, he was pretty sure Robin thought he was an idiot about movies, but just because he had trouble remembering the names and shit of characters, didn't mean he couldn't analyze the themes, fuck you very much, Buckley.)

They had gotten assigned a project together early on, and it hadn't been completely terrible. She had quickly taken over doing most of the writing portions, but hadn't thought all of his ideas were terrible. By the end of the project he thought they were even sort of having fun together.

He'd always been one to try his luck, take a little more than he was given. So, after that assignment was over, he started sitting next to her in class, not wanting that easy, if sharp, camaraderie to end. Robin rolled her eyes at him and asked him what he thought he was doing the first time he did it, but she never sent him away.

They ended up chatting more and more during down times, passing notes to each other and sharing sly comments under their breaths during the movies. Steve often had trouble paying attention at school, his mind easily wandering away, and it was almost as bad during most movies, but Robin helped keep him on track.

The class turned into one that was done for the easy grade, a last ditch effort to improve his already hopeless GPA, and became one he actually enjoyed.

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea of going to prom with Robin. It made the night seem a little less unbearable.

He thought about making a big deal out of asking her, because he knows that's what girls (and even Nancy) had enjoyed for past dances. He quickly scrapped that idea, however, because not only did he not want to put pressure on her like that, but also she seemed to hate public spectacles like that.

Or at least when aimed at her, they both enjoyed watching drama unfold in the halls a bit too much to say she hated it completely.

So Steve waits until the end of the day, their film class being their last, to pull her into an empty classroom. She follows him without question in a show of trust he didn't realize she had in him. The notion warms him, and for some reason makes it more difficult to get the question out.

"Why do I feel like you're about to try to sell me drugs or something?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow at him. He squints at her in offense.

"Why is that your first assumption?!"

"I don't know! Why else are you pulling me out of the hallway all secretive like, making sure no one followed us, into an abandoned classroom," she asks, throwing her arms into the air.

"The classroom isn't abandoned, it's the end of the day! Also, who does drug deals on campus, that's just stupid?" He asks rhetorically, before waving one hand through the air, as if trying to erase the current thread of conversation. "That doesn't matter, you're distracting me."

"Well then, get on with it! Some of us have practice we need to get to."

"It's like talking to the kids," he mutters to himself, "Whatever. I wanted to ask - will you go to prom with me?"

That stops Robin up short. There's panic in her eyes now, though Steve isn't sure what exactly put it there. Was his reputation that bad that even band geeks are terrified of getting asked out by him?

"You want to go on a date? With me?" she asks slowly, disbelief coloring her voice, though it doesn't hide her unease.

"No, I want to go to prom with you," he scoffs, "Not go on a date with you."

"That is a date, dingus! The person you go to prom with is literally called your date!"

"Okay, sure, maybe, but I don't actually want to date you," he said, rolling his eyes at her.

Like, okay, he understood his reputation for being... what did she call him last week? A 'huge effing rake'? But that didn't mean that he was trying to date any girl that looked in his direction. A lot of girls looked in his direction. That was too many women, even for him.

Robin relaxes a little at that.

"Then why are you asking me to prom instead of someone you actually want to date?"

"Because!" he says, resisting the urge to flail his hands back at her. "I don't want to date anyone right now. Most people I ask are going to expect all these things from me - they're going to want dinner, and at the very least a kiss at the end of the night if not more, or another date the very next day. Because Steve Harrington is supposed to want those things!" He takes a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair to calm himself. "But right now? I really don't."

"Well then, what does Steve the Hair Harrington actually want?" She had relaxed fully at this point, a smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"I want to go to prom with someone I consider a friend, someone who makes me laugh," he says after a moment of silence. "I want to dance badly to really corny pop music and drink just enough spiked punch that I don't remember how much I hate wearing any sort of tie. Then I want to go get milkshakes or go see a really trashy midnight horror flick, just because I'm having so much fun I don't want the night to end."

That small smile has grown into a reluctant grin on Robin's face. It makes her eyes shine and her freckles pop. Steve thought that if he was in a better place, if they had met at a different time, he could have fallen in love with her.

But they had met now instead, in some shitty public school elective course, and she was the closest thing he had to a friend that wasn't a snotty middle schooler.

"That sounds... like a lot of fun, actually," she says, mischief sparking on her face. "Who would've known the hidden depths hidden behind all that hair."

"Hey!" he protests half-heartedly, unable to keep a grin of his own off his face. "So what do you say? Wanna go to prom with me?"

"I guess," she sighs, acting like it was such a trial to go to prom with him. Him! But her next words make up for it. "Since we're friends, and all. However, I still expect you to buy me dinner, though you can keep the kiss goodnight to yourself."

Steve can't help the giddy laugh from spilling out of him. For the first time in weeks, he is actually looking forward to prom.

#stobin #platonic stobin #st fic rec #mini fic #steve #robin #my writing #writing tag #this was got out of hand #all of the stuff about prom is pulled loosely from my own experiences with prom #both from it being seniors only (juniors at my school had their own dance) to what people did after prom #(i went to two proms and one group went and saw a bad horror movie after prom and i went to a diner with the other group) #also this is barely editted so there is some weird tense switches in here im sorry! #this wasnt meant to be an actual fic i had just meant to throw out the idea of steve asking robin to his prom #and steves voice got away from me quick #this was inspired by the fic i reblogged earlier today about steve taking robin to her prom

[patrophthia]

triwizard tournament | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

genre: fake dating, fluff, angst, pining¿?, OOC james?? basically the plot of goblet of fire if it took place during the marauders era, not proofread!

wc: 7.4K

originally posted on wattpad

"plus, you're incredibly pretty, i'm really not opposed to keep telling people we're together."

"keep?"

"yeah keep." james lifted his head up and looked at her sheepishly. "she's going to run the story which means we'll need to keep the story going, i'll pay you, anything, i'll take you to your favorite shops and buy you whatever you want, just help me with this."

"with what money?"

"with the money that i'll win from the tournament." there's that confidence. "so... yes or no?"

there was a crash somewhere close to her, before she could even look up to find out what the ruckus was about; four boys found themselves around her seat.

"i'm so sorry." a voice whispered from her left. "hey! this is my girlfriend, [name]. bug, this is amy reid."

"hi," 'amy' greeted. before she could even wrap her head around what was going on, she smiled at amy, a short brunette woman who looked roughly in her thirties. "how long have you been together?"

"since last year." one of the other boys answered.

"oh." amy turned from the boy and back to her. "how charming young love is."

"so." amy clapped her hands. it was only then did she realized that amy had someone following after, short and timid; the boy had a notepad in his hand, jotting everything down word for word. "tell me about your love story."

"my love story?" she repeated under her breath.

amy nodded frantically. "your love story of course, how you met, how you started dating, all that good stuff."

"right." she glanced to her left and was no where near surprised when she realized it was james potter, of fucking course, it was james potter who she was in this situation with. "our love story."

sitting opposite both james and her was sirius and remus with peter hovering behind them. she must've made a face, one that was amusing, seeing as sirius grinned at her once their eyes met.

"well," amy murmured. "it seems as though you don't know where to start." amy turned to the boy behind her before she turned back around. "how did you two meet?"

"we share the same classes." that wasn't a lie. "and i thought she was incredibly pretty so i asked her out." liar. "it's quiet a boring story, actually."

"and you?" amy turned to her. "what did think about james?"

"i thought he was—" annoying, loud, dramatic. "charming." amy seemed to like her answer, smiling as she turned to tell the boy to note it down verbatim. "and he was handsome too so it's a plus."

"isn't that just adorable," amy cooed, then her entire behavior shifts. "so what's your opinion about this whole triwizard tournament thing? are you worried, excited? how did you feel when you found out james would be competing?"

honestly? she didn't really give a fuck. she'd hoped that he won the tournament for hogwarts but she couldn't have cared less. "i was really worried, you know. i didn't want my boyfriend to die."

amy smiled, seemingly satisfied with her answer. "well it was nice meeting you, [name]. all though i've got to catch up with the other two contestants as well, i hope we can meet again soon."

"you too." and with that, amy and her minion left. once she was finally out of their sight, the four boys huffed out a long dramatic breath. "girlfriend, huh?"

james collapsed on the table, hiding his face in his arms. "i'm sorry." was this the confident gryffindor everyone had a crush on? "i panicked and you were the only girl i recognized, everyone else was a third year."

sirius bit his lips, hiding his laughter as james dug his head deeper and deeper into his hands. "plus, you're incredibly pretty, i'm really not opposed to keep telling people we're together."

"keep?"

"yeah keep." james lifted his head up and looked at her sheepishly. "she's going to run the story which means we'll need to keep the story going, i'll pay you, anything, i'll take you to your favorite shops and buy you whatever you want, just help me with this."

"with what money?"

"with the money that i'll win from the tournament." there's that confidence. "so... yes or no?"

•••

amy did run the story. along with the story that she might or might not be one of james many lover —this was because, sirius had thought it would be funny to have the other seventh years tell reid that they've all slept with james (how he got them to agree, she didn't know).

james was the first person she saw the next morning (besides her dorm mates). he invited her to have breakfast with his friend, an invitation that she accepted and had found herself quiet fond of everyone he surrounded himself with.

they were all so . . . gryffindor. and she meant that as a compliment.

james walked her to her first class, then her second, then any other that she had after it. once dinner time came, james was the one who awaited her by the great hall.

"hi," he said once he spotted her.

"hi?" she knew they had to keep up and image but she didn't expect to be keeping it up so constantly. "what are you doing here?"

"waiting for you," he answered, james reached forward for the strap of her bag, taking it with ease and began walking into the great hall. "how was your day?"

"it was good." she then proceeded to tell him how everything went, trailing behind him as she tried to ignore the stares that followed her. "how was yours?"

james opened his mouth, an answer already at the tip of his tongue before he shut it quickly, looking perplexed. he was quiet for a second; feeling so so stupid and stunned. for, the only thing he had thought about all day was her. "it was good."

•••

the first task was coming up and with how nosy the marauders are, it was only a matter of time before they found out what the first task was: "dragons." and peter said this enthusiastically because, it was something he never thought he'd ever see in real life.

"that's easy then," said sirius, digging into some yorkshire pudding. "you can just use the conjunctivitis curse, a dragon's eyes are its weakest point."

"yeah but it could end violently," she pointed out. "what if the dragon lashed out and kills him."

"what about a broom then?" lily suggests whilst passing the salt to marlene. "if he flies fast enough, he'd be able to maneuver his way around."

"around what, though?" remus murmured. "we know that the task involves dragons. but what to do with it exactly, we have no clue."

"no matter what, i stick by it," said lily. "broom stick."

broom stick turned out to be the best method. james had gone last after he picked the hungarian horntail. from behind the tents, james wasn't able to watch his competitors —soren from beauxbatons who had gotten the welsh green and amerie from durmstrang who confronted the chinese fireball— attempts but he knew what he needed to do.

steal the golden egg from the clutches of the dragons they'd picked. james had finished the fastest, maneuvering his way around on his broomstick like lily had suggested.

once the tournament wrapped up, amy reid spared no moment before she started bombarding him with questions. how did you feel? was it ecstatic? how does it feel to be the best? and when [name] went down to see him, why isn't your girlfriend giving you a celebratory kiss?

"uhm—" what the fuck does one say to that "—we're not comfortable with showing much PDA."

amy frowned. "oh c'mon you two look great together, it's only just the couple of us. just a kiss for the front page shouldn't matter."

james looked at her skeptically, pushing his glasses upwards. "i don't think us kissing has anything to do with the task i've just finished."

"it doesn't," amy concurred. "but the viewers wants to know more about to the two of you. you've only said that you were together but no single living person have seen the two of you on a date. we're starting to suspect that you're faking it."

"then kissing wouldn't make a difference," remus chirped in. "wouldn't the viewers just make up some crap about them kissing just for the sake of faking it."

"i suppose they could," amy said, smiling patronizingly. "but why should we risk it when you two are so obviously in love." 

"it's—" remus sputtered but it was obviously that he had no counter argument.

james only shook his head, stopping remus and took a step forward. he leaned in slowly and with his voice low, lips brushing against her ear. "can i kiss you?"

he waited, one, two, three seconds, before she nodded. james head tilted backwards the slightest bit before his lips crashed onto her. his arm snuck around her waist and held onto her, bringing her close to his chest almost desperately. his lips lingered until finally, the camera clicked and he pulled away.

and, with a twist of her stomach, she was bitterly reminded that this was all for show.

•••

"wait—" her desk partner called after her, his hand wrapped around her wrist, halting her in her place. "wait, please."

so she did, she waited and turned to face him. standing six feet tall, looking as bright as a golden retriever, smiling his best smile, and her new desk mate. soren edmé. her 'boyfriends' competitor.

"there's the uhm—" he paused, hand scratching the back of his neck shyly. he was handsome, extremely so, handsome enough to rival dorian gray himself. "the yule ball. would you like to go?"

"together?"

"yes -uhm, yes together." his accent was oddly enough, extremely welsh despite coming from france. "as a date."

fuck. on any other day she'd have said yes with no hesitation, but when you're in a relationship —albeit a fake one, with the competitor of the person who was asking you out on a date. saying yes is just straight out betrayal.

"oh." soren sounded deflated and she hadn't even replied yet, was her face really that expressive? "you already have a date, don't you? potter right?"

at her nod, soren smiled softly, accepting his rejection with grace. gosh, he's basically blond sirius.

soren bit her goodbye, muttering something about the golden egg and quickly rushed to catch up with his friends.

she made her way out as well, meeting marlene in the hallways as she greeted her with a large grin. "guess who just got a date for the yule ball."

"lily?" she teased.

"har har you're so funny," marlene said with a roll of her eyes. "anyways, i asked dorcas and she said yes! isn't that just adorable?"

"it sure is," said lily, joining the two of them as they passed by. "it was getting unbearable with how much you were pining after her."

"anyways." lily handed her wand to marlene and pulled her hair up into a ponytail. "have you gotten a date yet?"

"no, i'm waiting on james to ask." she made sure not to mention a single thing about soren.

"why don't you just ask him?" said marlene easily, handing lily her wand back. "why wait?"

because, she wouldn't be able to handle rejection as elegantly as soren did. "asking's too much work. i'll just wait."

"what about you, lils?"

lily shrugged. "a pretty french boy asked me to go with him," she said easily, once she noticed the look on their faces, she quickly clarified. "laurent, his name is laurent, he's as handsome as his friends. he's nice too, so i said yes."

"so you both got dates then?"

"and you." marlene looked at her with false sympathy. "nothing."

"actually, i got asked—"

"what are you pretty ladies talking about?" cut in james. he had his glasses off, opting them out for contact lenses. why he chose to do so? she didn't know.

"yule ball dates." said both lily and marlene.

james' brows raised dramatically. "really?" ignoring the daggers marlene stated through him. "must've slipped my mind."

"aren't you going to ask her to be your date?" no more subtleties then. thanks lily. "she's your girlfriend, isn't she?"

"about that." james drawled, a hint of a smile lingering on his lips. and as she thought he was going to ask, she watched him patiently. "i'm not going with you."

right.

of course.

why would he?

it's not like they were actually together. this was for show and that was all to it.

one for the money. two for the show. james was getting ready so she should let him go.

she hadn't planned to ask him furthermore. she already knew why he didn't want to go with her but if she had planned to. marlene beat her to it. "why not?"

"don't you need a date to the ball? you're a triwizard champion and all?" lily added on.

"i never said i didn't have a date," said james.

it shouldn't have bothered her, really, it shouldn't have. and yet, she couldn't help but feel —for the lack of better words— stupid for expecting other wise. of course, james potter of all people wouldn't go to the yule ball with her. he was the leading man after all.

"then what's about [name]?" lily asked, eyes wide with offense. "you're just going to leave her alone?"

"she doesn't mind." james turned to her. "do you?"

"no." she shook her head. "it's nothing, of course i don't mind."

•••

"aren't you coming with us?" jolene asked as she got ready to start the day. "don't you need to pick out a dress for the ball?"

"no." not when she had no plans in attending it in the first place. "i don't want to go."

"why not?" jolene moved away from her own vanity and onto her bed. "this happens once every eternity, how can you not go."

"i just—" am dreading seeing james with someone else, dreading being near his mere presence. "—don't want to."

"not a good enough reason," jolene told her. "you're coming with us to buy a dress, and you're coming with us to that god forsaken ball."

jolene was persistent, she knew that for a fact. and now, as she stood in front of rack stacked with pretty dresses, she was once again reminded about just how persistent jolene was.

"how about this one?" she lifted up a blue dress that was mostly made from tool and lace. "it's pretty."

"it also looks like her tits could pop out any second," rose (their other roommate, and jolene's long term girl friend) murmured, dismissing it with a wave of hand. "why don't you just let her pick something for herself?"

"because, she won't," jolene said sharply. "she's convinced herself that she doesn't want to go. where's the fun in that?"

rose's eyes shifted between the two girls, biting the inside of cheek until finally, she stopped. "why don't you want to go?"

"because, i don't want to," she answered simply. when jolene made a face, she felt the need to add on. "and i don't have a date."

"you don't?" rose asked, surprised. "what about potter? he's not going with you?"

"no."

"why not?" jolene sounded infuriated. "what kind of shit boyfriend doesn't take their girlfriend to a ball?"

"it's complicated."

"just how complicated?" jolene followed up. "c'mon, explain," she demanded, sitting down on the shop's many waiting chairs. "we have all day."

so she did. from to start to finish. "jesus," jolene muttered once she finished. "what kind of dick move is that? no wonder i like women."

rose pursed her lips. "what about soren? does he still want to go with you?"

"i dunno," she answered honestly. "and even if he did i don't think i'd be able to go with him, not when i rejected him."

"then you'll go with us," said jolene, standing up. "the three of us can go together."

•••

the entrance hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the great hall would be thrown open. those people who were meeting partners from different houses were edging through the crowd, trying to find each other.

jolene had found lily and led her to where rose and [name] were waiting. the oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the durmstrang students entering with their professor. amerie was at the front of the party, accompanied by —oddly enough, peter pettigrew in dark robes that matched her dress.

how the two got together, she'll figure that out later.

she still hadn't seen james or soren, but buried the thought and went into the great hall like the rest of her friends.

the walls of the hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. the house tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

they found themselves by one of the many tables, chatting along as they waited for the ball to kick start itself.

once everyone in the hall settled, the champions and their dates walked in in lines. first to come in was amerie and peter —and odd couple that looked honestly cute with one another in a way she couldn't explain. the second to walk through the door was soren and a pretty girl in purple robes.

then —at last, was james potter. and his date. dates, actually. james had brought two dates. his dates who were wearing bright red dresses. ones that matched james' cut for cut. james potter and his dates were wearing the same dresses. james potter was wearing a dress. and so was his dates, sirius black and remus lupin.

"they're taking the piss out of this," jolene cackled loudly, a domino effect that soon spread throughout the hall: each students laughing loudly at the sight before them.

the three boys grinned, —well two really, james and sirius; remus was plain out grimacing— happy to have created such an uproar. searching hazel eyes met hers through the crowd, watching the most minuscule of her reaction with his lips curving upwards.

then he mouthed something, and despite being a shit mouth reader. she thought he told her to: "save me a dance."

the three boys started walking up towards a large round table at the top of the hall, where the judges were sitting.

when all the food had been consumed. dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. then, at a wave of his wand, tables zoomed back along the walls, leaving the floor clear, and then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right hand wall. a set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello and some bagpipes were set upon it.

the weird sisters now trooped up onto the stage to enthusiastic applause; they were all extremely hairy, and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. they picked up their instruments, and came to realize that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the champions and their partners were standing up.

the band played a slow song and she could see her friends separating. jolene and rose. lily and laurent. and finally marlene and dorcas. they looked reluctant in leaving her alone but with multiple shakes of her heads, they left towards the dance floor.

"hello." was the first thing soren said once he found her. "can i have a dance?"

she was skeptical, not wanting to steal him away from whoever his date was. soren, seeming as though he'd read her mind, smiled.

"we only came as friend." he told her. "she fancies this guy and wanted to make him jealous. it's the least i can do when the girl i wanted to come with already had a date."

she laughed, the irony of her coming as her friend's third wheel not lost. "poor you."

"poor me," he repeated, smiling charmingly. "now about that dance?"

she opened her mouth, ready to agree when someone came before her. drowning in red tool was james potter, positively beaming.

"hi." james smiled, and she noticed that once again, he had opted his glasses out for contact lenses. "can i have this dance?"

she turned to soren, watching as his face drop. his expression quickly shifts, rose-colored lips tugging into a small smile as he shrugged and sent her off.

at her nod, james' grin widened. offering a hand out, she placed her hand onto it and james made use of it by holding on tightly as he tried navigating the dance floor.

before they had gotten far, soren stopped them by calling out james' name. james turned, so did she, and found the blond looking hesitant.

finally, soren let up. "have you figured out what's inside egg yet?" he asked james directly.

james shook his head, brows knitted. "no."

"you should try putting it in water—" he paused, licking his lips. "—you'll find it very helpful if you did so."

"okay," james murmured, clearly skeptical. "how'd you find out?"

"laurent is very clumsy," soren said off-handedly, his eyes then briefly glanced towards her. "but you should look into it, i think i might need some help when it comes to it."

and with a fond smile, soren left the pair alone. james shook his head, only then realizing that their hands were still intertwined. james didn't make a move to let go, only continuing on his journey to finding the perfect place for their dance.

once they found a good spot, not too crowded and yet not too bare with the music loud enough for them to be able to hear one another. james guided both her hands to his shoulders —bare due to the off the shoulder cut he wore, and placed his hands on her waist.

"you didn't think i would come with someone else did you?" he asked, swaying. "because, quite honestly i couldn't even dream of it. it was you or no one else."

she didn't know what to say. didn't know how to control the fact that his word had sent butterflies to her stomach so she settled for an easy: "really?"

james smiled, and nodded bashfully. "really. it was the only think i thought of when minnie told us about the ball."

"right," she murmured. "but then i had to compete with two pretty lads wearing dresses so i obviously lost."

"obviously." his tone was light and teasing. "how could one compete with this pretty dress?"

she glanced down, finally taking the piece in and giggled. the dress was a bright red, off shoulder, princess dress. he looked charmingly ridiculous save for his handsome face (despite it losing its iconic presence).

"why aren't you wearing your glasses?" she made sure not to step on the tools of his dress as they dance. "you haven't been wearing them for a while now. why the change?"

james shrugged. "why not the change?" with a roll of her eyes, james answered honestly. "because, i thought you'd like it."

"why?"

"a couple weeks back, whilst working with lily at her dorm, i took my glasses of to clean them and mckinnon told me i looked handsome." he stopped for a second, gulping. "i'd thought you'd agree so i started opting for contact lenses instead."

"i guess i did it to impress you."

heart: melted. "james."

"bug," he said in return, using the same pet name he had called her when he first painted himself to be her boyfriend.

"thank you for doing this. i do think you look nice with contact lenses." she smiled, an action that he reciprocated. "but i think i preferred it more when you don't have to worry about your contacts drying up."

"i'll keep that in mind."

•••

"wormie," james called out. "lock the door, will you?"

peter did as told, locking the prefect's bathroom door whilst watching as his friends —sirius and james, to be specific— strip into their swimming trunks with remus, and james' pretend girlfriend standing by the edge of the pool. 

remus had the golden egg in hand, passing it down to james once he settled into the water. the tub was clear for the most part, the group had decided that that was best.

any bubbles would obscure the view of what happens to the egg.

james with the egg in hand, shot her a playful look. "you sure you don't want to come in, bug? the water's very nice."

with her back pressed against the wall and her arms crossed in front of her chest. she quipped, "never have i ever before."

with a final smile, james turned to sirius who was watching them with careful eyes. james then proceeded to slowly lower the egg into the water, scared that this might be soren's plan on ruining james chances in winning.

but james had always been trustful. so once nothing happened after submerging the egg, james' hand reached over to open it and this time —unlike the several other times, the marauders attempted to open it— it did not wail.

instead a gurgling song was coming from it, a song who's word they could not distinguish through the water. "put your head under," remus told them.

sirius and james took in a deep breath, and slid under the surface —and now, sitting on the marble bottom of the tub, they heard a chorus of eerie voices  singing to them from the open egg on james' hand.

come seek us where our voices sound. we cannot sing above the ground, and while you're searching, ponder this we've taken what you'll sorely miss, an hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took, but past an hour - the prospect's black too late, it's gone, it won't come back.

"note this down," said james, rising up from the water. peter scrambled to his book bag, grabbing the first piece of paper and quill he could find and waited for james to recall whatever the song was.

it was barely days before the second task, which meant they were running on borrowed time. after dressing as quickly as they could, the five of them began their way towards the library.

they ended the first and second day empty handed, not having a single piece of formation at their aid. the third, which was one day before d-day, was almost repetitive of the last two days. keyword: almost.

as the sun began setting and the five grew tired from the lack of findings, the sight of lily evans and frank longbottom was practically god sent.

lily was the first one to speak, noticing their miserable expressions. "still nothing?"

"nope," james concurred, head buried into his books. "absolutely nothing."

"honestly, after million of years of magic there ought to be at least one or two charms that helps you breathe underwater but there's absolutely none."

"what do you mean there's none?" lily asked with confusion.

"there's absolutely zero." james exaggerated. "we've been here for days and still haven't got a thing."

"do you think maybe you've been looking for it in the wrong books?"

"no." james drawled, then he turned to lily. "do you know something i don't?"

"a few," she murmured. "like the scuba spell and the bubble head charm both of which are used to breathe underwater."

"and gilly weed," frank added.

"brilliant," james said sarcastically. "why have we been here all day when we could've asked this two geniuses. why are you even here anyways?"

"professor mcgonagall sent us to fetch those three." lily pointed to [name], sirius, and peter.

she hadn't done anything wrong if she could recall. so why did professor mcgonagall want to see her?

"why?" sirius asked before she could.

"she wouldn't tell," frank shrugged. "she was looking a bit grim when she asked for you three, though."

"we're supposed to take you down to her office," said lily.

the trio stood, standing side by side. "we'll meet you back at the common room."

when morning came, james had somehow acquired gilly weed by sneaking into one of the many green houses on the school's grown. he put on his contacts —seeing as it would be better for him to not worry about losing his glasses— and hoped for the best.

he remembered a brief conversation he had the night before. frank longbottom was half asleep and half delirious; his words mumbling with one another. "do you know how to swim?" he'd asked.

"yes, no. well— well enough for me to complete this task," james answered.

"okay," frank murmured, nodding off from his bed. "just remember, if you forget how to swim, just wiggle like a worm and you'll be alright."

remus and james shared a look, hiding their laughs. "thanks."

neither sirius, peter nor her had return —or maybe they did but he had missed them. maybe they had gotten back after he'd went to bed and gotten up early for whatever mcgonagall needed. or maybe they hadn't returned at all.

james shrugged away those thoughts as he had breakfast, his head interpreting the song as many way as he possible could.

they had taken something from him that he'd surely missed and he had an hour to retrieve it, if the hour passes and he had yet to retrieve it, whatever it was would be gone.

and now as he stood on the edge of the platform, upset that neither his best friend or girl friend was there to cheer for him, james took a great breath, ate his gilly weed and dived in.

the lake was so cold he felt the skin on his legs searing as though this was fire, not icy water. the first gulp of icy lake water felt like the breath of life, and james realized then that he had grown gills.

james stretched out his hands in front of him and stared at them. they looked green and ghostly under the water, and they had became webbed. he twisted around and looked at his bare feet - they had become elongated and his toes were webbed, too, it looked as though he had sprouted flippers.

the gryffindor smiled to himself; he was partially a merman, brilliant

he swam deeper and deeper —and mentally wondered if he looked like a worm. he turned full circle in the water, the silence pressing harder than ever apainst his cardrums. james thought he must be even deeper in the lake now, but nothing seemed to be moving except for the rippling weeds.

he swam on for what felt like at least twenty more minutes, passing over vast expanses of black mud now, which swirled murkily as he disturbed the water. then, at long last, he heard a snatch of haunting mer-song.

an hour long you'll have to look, and to recover what we took,

he swam faster, and found a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead that had paintings of merpeople on it. though terrified for his life, james pushed it aside and swam forward, following the mer-song.

. . . your time's half gone, so hurry not lest what you seek stays here to rot . . .

a cluster of crude stone dwellings strained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom of all sides. here and there by the windows james saw faces.

all of which had greyish skins and long, wild, dark green hair. their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and in, wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. they leered at james ,as he swam past, one or two of them emerged from their caves, to watch him better, their powerful, silver fishtails beating the waves with spears clutched in their hands.

james sped up and a strange sight met his eyes.

a whole crowd of merpeople were floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. a choir of merpeople were singing in the middle, calling the champions towards them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. three people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

[name] was tied between sirius and peter. all three of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths.

james froze briefly, not knowing who exactly he meant to be saving. he cared for the three of them deeply, his two best friends and the girl who had helped him more than he could've asked for.

james shook away his thoughts and sped towards the hostages, half expecting the merpeople to lower their spears and change at him, but they did nothing. the ropes of weed tying the hostages to the statue were thick, slimy and very strong.

he looked around. many of the merpeople surrounding them were camping spears and wondered if he could've borrowed one of their spears but, he knew that they wouldn't let him.

this was his task, he needed to finish it himself.

so james swirled around, looking for anything that would suffice. then it hit him —quite literally, an object hit his head and he turned as quickly as he could to find soren watching him.

the object fell to the bottom and james registered it as a covered butterfly knife, he was unsure what to do with it. what was he playing at?

"get him." soren told him, his voice was clear; the bubble-head charm was useful when it came to this. soren grabbed another knife from his pocket, opening it up to hack at the ropes on [name]'s ankle, when they broke soren spoke once more. "hurry."

so she was what he would've missed most?

when soren left and amerie came, her making quick work at peter's rope. james was reminded that he was soon to run out of time. james dove down, picking up the knife soren had thrown at him and began cutting at sirius' ropes.

once they broke, james wrapped an arm around sirius' torso and began swimming upwards. when he felt his head break the surface of the lake, he pulled sirius up with him.

amerie and peter came up just seconds after, making the crowd in the stands let out a great deal of noise, shouting and screaming, everybody seemed to be on their feet. james had the impression that they'd thought that sirius, peter and amerie might be dead but they were wrong.

sirius expelled a great spout of water, blinked in the bright light, turned to james and said, "i've never had someone make me this wet before."

james ignored him, too preoccupied with the fact that not only was soren's price possession his girlfriend but that soren had helped him twice now. and the lad didn't seem to be expecting anything in return.

he removed his arm from sirius' torso and swam towards the platform. his entire body ached, his previous fish-like feet and hands turned back to their normal state, clearly human as days.

amy reid was quick at rushing towards the pair of them once they rose. asking james question after question about why soren had saved his girlfriend, why soren was looking at her with so much concern and affection as he tried to help her recover from the task, and finally, why wasn't he angry that soren was doing so.

james didn't know for one. and for two, he really had no rights to be angry. she wasn't his girlfriend and as much as they pretended that they were, he could never lie to himself about that. not when he had always been to scared to make a proper move.

"james." her voice was familiar to him, he turned around. she looking at him with wet hair and even wetter clothing. she then pressed a hand to his cheek, turning to gaze at each side. "are you okay?"

james gulped, nodding. "i'm fine, bug." he forced himself not to lean into her touch, warm and welcoming despite the coldness on her fingertips. "brilliant even."

he nodded his head forward, and found soren watching the pair of them; james smiled weakly, an attempt at thanking the blond. "how's he?"

"he's fine," she answered. "he's very ecstatic that he got first place. i think he might implode any second now."

"from what?" seeing her touching james so intimately when she was the thing he'd missed most and yet, he couldn't have her?

"excitement." she told him. "what else would it be?"

•••

as the day of the third task creeps closer and closer, so close that it was a night away. she can't help but feel worried for what's about to come.

the triwizard tournament has quite a record when it came to death. and she really didn't want to see her 'boyfriend', the guy who saved her life —albeit him being the cause of her possible death, and her friend's new girlfriend dying.

still, as the day approaches, all she could bring herself to do was help them every single way possible. james had gathered that the task had something to do with the quidditch pitch so he told soren as a form of repayment.

the five of them —it being her, james, sirius, remus and lily, for peter was helping amerie out— had found themselves in a secluded classroom, practicing spells after spells.

james had been acting mechanically lately, that she noticed. she wondered if it had anything to do with what happened during the second task— more specifically, soren. she decided not to ask, whatever was going on with james was not her problem.

she shouldn't want to know unless he decides to open up to her about it.

"bug." when she started responding to that pet name exactly, she couldn't pin point. "we're just about to leave, aren't you coming?"

"oh." she stood up from where she'd sat. "yeah, 'course."

"on second thought," james murmured, glancing between her and his friends who were stood by the door. "just go on without me, i need to speak to [name] for a bit."

the three bid their goodbye and left. james turned back to her when he could no longer hear their footsteps and almost smiled at the confused look on her face.

"i . . . kind of have to tell you something," he told her, swallowing hardly. "it's just that— the final task is tomorrow and the triwizard tournament is quite notorious for its deaths."

he then continued. "i suppose i'm telling you all this so i wouldn't regret it if something where to happen to me."

as james did everything and absolutely nothing at the same time, she can't help but think that this is it. this is where james decided that he'd used her until she was powerless, that he didn't need her anymore, that this was where it all ends.

and she didn't know/can't differentiate whether she feels happy or miserable over this. or if she felt both. but to her surprise, james confessed.

"i think i like you."

it took her one, two, three seconds to process this. i think i like you. he thinks he likes her. he thinks he fancies me. "what?"

"i lied," james began. "there was a reason i ran to you that day. i didn't know why i chose you then and still don't now but what i do know is that alice was there and we both know she's nice enough to help my lie to reid and yet, i chose you to help me out."

james took in a deep breath. "i couldn't stop thinking about you the days after, i didn't know why but i chose not to dwell on it for two long. and then the ball happened, you look so beautiful that i felt stupid for even considering going without you."

"i should've figured it out sooner but i didn't," he mumbled. "i still haven't figured it out now."

"what i have figured out is that i don't like seeing edmé look at you the same way i look at you. i don't like knowing that he cares about you as much as i care about you. i don't like that he's sure about his feelings for you while i'm not."

she put the pieces together then, it was so nice for him to lay it all out in front her.

"i think i fancy you, bug." he looked at her, really looked at her this time and said, "and i don't know what to do about it."

•••

whoever was running the tournament is a dumbass. who decided that putting a maze in a quidditch pitch was a good idea. who decided that making the final (and probably most important task) almost unwatchable was a good idea.

all she could make out from her seat was some random heads of hair, running round in every direction; all trying to reach the middle where the cup sat prettily on a platform.

both soren and james had gotten head starts. james for being the fastest during the first task and soren during the second.

it was about forty minutes into the task when the crowds started up, murmuring about a champion's return with the cup in hand.

everyone watched with baited breath, each school hoping that their school champion would pass through the maze as if they were the flash themselves.

and after a few more apprehensive minutes, the hogwarts students shoot up from their seats; screaming, yelling, shouting loudly in celebration. chanting the name potter over and over again when james walked out with the biggest grin he'd ever worn in his life.

lily pulled at her hand, leading her way down the stairs and onto the pitch where james stood handsomely, turning from cameras to cameras and to more cameras until he finally spotted them.

her more specifically.

james was practically beaming by then, turning to reid and told her kindly. "excuse me, i need to go kiss my girlfriend."

james passed the trophy to sirius on his way to her and grabbed onto her wrist, he led the way towards a secluded area and before she could even say hi; james had pressed his lips onto hers.

his bottom lips tugged between his teeth when he pulled away, looking at her with nothing but adoration in his eyes. "i won."

"you did," she concurred. "congratulations."

it didn't occur to her then what exactly had happened. they had kissed before, this was nothing new.

"i told you i'd win," he told her. "i'm never wrong about those stuff."

she only hummed, smiling and nodding as she let him take his win.

james, seemingly high on victory, told her almost breathlessly. "you are the most beautiful girl i've ever seen."

her eyes shot to the ground without intending to, mouth dry with no good response. james' hand found her chin, gently tilting her face upwards so he could get a good look at her.

"i like you," james said lowly. "that i'm sure of now. i really really like you, bug."

"and i would really like to kiss you and be your boyfriend for real this time." he finished.

james waited, one, two, three seconds, leaned in and when she made no move in pushing him away, he pressed her lips onto hers. kissing her with so much passion she would've fell if it weren't for him wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her desperately close to his chest, holding her tightly in place.

and this time, this time, she realized that there was no one watching. there was no cameras clicking, no one forcing him to kiss her to prove that it was all real because, this time james is kissing her because he wanted to. because, james was sure he likes her.

—from bee: this fic was one of my longest fic of all time sksksk i love james very much hehe

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter x yn #james potter scenarios #james potter imagines #james potter fluff #james potter humor #james potter fanfiction #james potter au #Spotify #🧳: my writing

[planet-dusk]

i have so many pervy jisung thoughts 😵‍💫 about things he does to his girlfriend while she’s sleeping. the way he touches her, touches himself. a dubcon pervy sungie lives rent free in my mind

feel free to share them with the class, anon. perv!jisung is so so good. honestly one of my favorites. and when he's a bit subby...

🏷️ perversion, dubcon/noncon, panty stealing and sniffing, masturbation, unprotected sex, somnophilia

he'd promised he'd be your good boy. and he tried. he really did. but he'd broken a rule and now he's suffering the consequences: he isn't allowed to touch himself for a week.

it's torture for poor sungie. he's always horny, needs to be inside your pretty cunt as often as he can and on the days you don't have time for him he jerks himself off until his balls are sore.

he steals your panties from the laundry basket sometimes. loves sniffing them while he fists his cock. he likes the lace ones the most; they feel rough against his swollen tip, almost painful when he rubs himself until he cums all over the fabric.

you've noticed your underwear disappearing and when you catch him in the act your punishment is more severe. no more pussy for jisung.

for an entire month.

if he thought not being able to jerk off was bad enough, not being able to get off by himself and not getting to be inside of you is like hell on earth. he'd rather die. but he made a promise. he'll show you he can be good for you.

not even two weeks in and jisung is getting desperate. he isn't allowed to touch you but your body feels so warm lying next to him at night. he can see the outline of your shape in the darkness.

his cock leaks painfully.

your chest rises and falls with every breath, slow and steady. you'll never find out if jisung touches himself a little, so where's the harm in playing with his balls for a bit? he won't cum. he can be strong.

it takes him less than a minute to blow his load.

now the floodgates have opened and things are quickly spinning out of his control. at first it's enough to tug his aching cock while you are laying next to him.

and then it isn't.

so he starts touching you. he slides his slick cock between your thighs and fucks them slowly. he's careful not to wake you even though the friction isn't enough to make him cum. he just needs to feel you.

slipping his cock into your warm, wet hole is only a small step up from the shameful acts he has been indulging in at night. he's lucky you're a heavy sleeper. sometimes he can only get the head in, staying there with his throbbing cock lodged inside your cunt. unmoving. what if you wake up?

he can only imagine what punishment you'd come up with this time.

one afternoon you'd fallen asleep on the couch. your lips were slightly parted, a small puddle of drool forming on the throw pillow underneath your head.

jisung hadn't been able to stop himself. he'd rubbed his cock on your lips, staining them with his precum. he'd nearly blown all over your face when you had suckled on his tip in your sleep. the involuntary reflex made him groan and he'd dashed off before you'd opened your eyes.

one more night left.

he didn't plan on touching you tonight; his punishment would be over tomorrow. he could go one night without. no need to pursue the risk.

but the thrill feels too good.

so here he is again, cock slipping in without resistance. how is he supposed to stay away from you when you're always so wet and warm? even in your sleep.

you're lying on your back while he kneels awkwardly between your legs. adrenaline and arousal runs through his veins as he sinks into you slowly.

just a little deeper.

jisung freezes when your hand suddenly comes up, grabbing him by the throat and squeezing hard enough to have him gasp for air.

"you've been using me as your fucktoy for long enough, baby. now it's my turn."

#answered #anonymous #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids hard hours #skz hard hours #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #tw: dubcon #tw: noncon #tw: perversion #sub!idol #dom!reader #;skz blurbs