#isn't that the whole point of being a protestant.

[railingsofsorrow]

Dress

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: you're dressed in red, her favorite color. and emily has a hard time wrapping her mind around that or around the fact that she wants to kiss you senseless tonight.  pairing: emily prentiss x f!reader  w.c: 2K   warnings/content: morcia & their antics; flirting; suggestive content (no smut); kissing; fluff; friends that want to be more than friends but haven't had the guts to say that to one another trope.

A/N: here is my entry for the @imagining-in-the-margins's CM Pride Challenge! The chosen prompt was “Are they... flirting?” “Big time.” with the pairing emily prentiss x reader slightly inspired by taylor swift's dress. I hope you like it! I had so much fun writing this. 

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”] 

navi masterpost 

cm masterlist 

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❝ say many name and everything just stops,

I don't want you like a best friend.

only bought this dress so you could take it off. ❞

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“Are they... flirting?” Derek squints trying to see you and Emily's figure angled towards one another in the bar. His sight isn't perfect but he can't be imagining things.  

Penelope huffs out a laugh, giving him a look of that's your question? “Big time.” 

"It was about damn time." He mumbles, sipping into his whiskey as a gasp beside him makes him direct his attention back to his favourite blonde in the whole world. She was staring at him wide-eyed as if he had just described the secret path to Atlantis. "What?" 

Penelope slaps his chest, causing him to protest in disbelief.  

"Baby girl, what the hell?" 

"You know something!" She points her perfectly done long nails at him, earning a raised brow. "You know about... them." And then, as he follows to where she's pointing attempting to be discreet, Derek finally understands. "Yeah, yeah, spill the beans. Now." 

Derek takes another sip of his drink to hide the smirk stretching out on his lips.  

"We all know they're completely head over heels for one another, that's not news." 

"But you know more and I don't need to be a profiler to notice that in your entire handsome face. Derek." She presses impatiently. "Did Emily say something to you? Is she finally gonna make a move?" 

"Oh, please," Derek chuckles, patting her shoulders sympathetically. "The move already happened. They are just attempting to pretend it didn't. And they are doing a poor job at it. Just look at that." He mentions the pair across the room from them. You were currently brushing a dark strand of Emily's hair behind her ear, a sideways smile dancing on your lips.  

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Emily hadn't been in a party mood. Or a little gathering, as Rossi likes to call it. But she was convinced to leave her house by a very compelling text that came from you, who was the only person who could really convince her to do anything, even knitting, which is something she had no idea how it even worked, but if you asked for a knitted beanie, she would buy the materials right this second. 

Joy Rossi. That is who the gathering in Rossi's fancy place is for. Emily is currently celebrating you and the dress you picked for this event because that proved to be more important.  

"Red looks really good on you, did you know that?" 

The disarming smile you send her way is enough to make her falter on her feet.  

"Yes, I do." You step closer. "And... did you know that I'm only wearing this one because I know it's your favorite color?" Her breathing fails for a long minute and her eyes fall on your red lips. It's like you're taunting her with that smug grin.  

“Really?” Emily tilts her head to keep staring at you as she takes a sip of her drink, her lips pursing around the reusable straw. She watches as your eyes travel downwards to her mouth and satisfaction bubbles inside her chest. Clearly, she's not the only one being affected tonight. “So you're wearing it for me? I feel special.” 

A smirk stretches across your mouth as your hand lifts to brush back a strand of her dark silky hair behind her ear. Emily tenses up when your fingers graze the back of her neck, but you quickly draw your hand back and she almost frowns in disappointment. 

“You are special.” You gently bump your elbow with hers when you rest back to stare at the enormous area in the backyard of David Rossi's mansion. Small groups of people shared conversations and the kids played around without a care for their sleep schedule. Alex waves at you from across the room and you watch as she starts walking over. “So special that I only bought it so you could take it off.” 

As expected, she chokes up on her drink and you caress her back tenderly while holding back a laugh. “You good, Em?” 

She gives you a look that can only be interpreted as a glare mixed with lust as she glances up and down your frame.  

“I'm— I'm perfect.” Emily clears her throat when Alex gets to where you are. She hugs you first and then Emily, you're smiling like a Cheshire cat probably. You love it when you successfully get what you want: tease Emily.  

“Oh, look at the two of you. I've missed this.” Blake comments, sipping on her champagne.  

“We missed you,” you say truthfully, squeezing her arm with a soft smile. It is the truth, Alex Blake was an important addition to the team and you will forever miss her on your daily routine at the BAU.  

She offers you a grateful smile and the conversation follows for a few minutes until Alex has to go and you and Emily are left alone. Again.  

Somehow, you don't find any complaints about that. 

“Hey,” you nudge the back of her hand to call for her attention. She had already been looking at you, when you take notice of that you feel the side of your neck warm-up. “Dance with me?” 

Emily finally diverts her attention from you and it settles on the empty makeshift dance floor.  

“Nobody's dancing.” 

You hum, dragging your hand towards hers to pull her softly with you. She follows with a groan, feigning annoyance which you know couldn't be farther from the truth. An annoyed Emily would have a permanent scowl on her pretty face and lips pulled downwards. But now she's displaying one of her award-winning grins and there isn't one single limb in her body that holds tension. Not as you're here, anyway. Not as she's in your presence. 

“We are,” you inform, guiding both of her hands to your waist and placing both of your arms around her shoulders, your fingers immediately reaching the back of her neck. “You look beautiful tonight. I forgot to say that before.” 

She pulls you closer carefully and you feel her hands move upwards, fingers drawing circles on your back.  

Emily suddenly doesn't care that she's in the public eye not trying to hold herself back from something she's wanted for years. She's been so used to hiding that whatever it is that the both of you are doing is frightening and freeing at the same time. It might be the alcohol —she hasn't had that much of it — but you're showing interest and she doesn't feel as if this is one-sided anymore.  

“Thank you.” 

“Of course,” you caress the baby hairs on the back of her neck. “It's not like you ever get out of my mind and you look beautiful every day so...” 

Emily looks away and laughs and you feel your brain burst in flames because yes, she really is beautiful and I can't think straight right now with her laughing.  

“You should stop that.” Emily warns. She's teasing you and you decide to play into her antics by pretending to be completely innocent. 

“Stop what?” 

“That.” She lowers her hands to the small of your back, tightening her hold there as you sway to the slow song. “I'm trying really hard not to kiss you right now.” The way her breathing tickles the side of your face, makes you immediately close the gap between your lips but you refrain from doing so. There's still some common sense left in your slight inebriated state of mind.  

“Why are you trying,” you croak out, voice rough, lifting your thumb to her jaw, outlining the thin scar she earned when she was a kid. You lean back a bit to be able to look her in the eye so there's no breach in your communication. “Stop trying, Emily. I'm here.” I want to kiss you too. You've no idea how bad I want that.

Her eyes fall to your lips, “are you sure?” The warmth of her hand is grounding and it is possibly the only thing keeping you upright at that moment.  

“Yes.”  

But she takes too long and you're the one who closes the small distance left between the two of you. Her arms wrap around your middle and she brings you closer to her body when your lips connect.  

It's a damn loud whistling that splits you apart. Your brows are pulled into a frown of confusion when you take notice of your friends gathered together laughing. You caught Penelope shushing Derek and this is what you need to know what's going on. All eyes are on you. Not all of them, most people had left already and now it's only whoever is part of the BAU and their partners. Even Rossi's daughter, who the party was for in the first place, had already left.  

“You couldn't have done that a month ago?” Luke Alvez whines from his table beside Spencer, who's outstretching a hand towards him. When the money is placed on top of his palm, he winks at Luke in victory.  

You hide your face in Emily's neck, cursing under your breath. She attempts to comfort you by rubbing her hands up and down your back. 

“Cut it out.” Emily rolls her eyes at her friends.

“You bet on us?” You exclaim in disbelief, disentangling yourself from her to place your hand on your hips. Emily watches you get ready to put everyone in their place and she can't even be mad about anything else when the scowl on your face is one more thing she wants to kiss. Though what you say surprises her and everyone who's waiting for you to yell at them. “Who won?”  

Derek, JJ, and Spencer raise their arms as a trio of toddlers admitting they did something wrong.  

“We bet something was going to happen tonight.” Derek wriggles his brows. “But I think I can say for everyone that we all knew you're completely whipped for each other.” 

JJ groans loudly, “yes. It's embarrassing.”  

Thanks to your friends, your face must be the same color as your dress. 

“I think half of that money should be ours.” Emily tugs you closer to her again, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. “We technically made you win.” 

“But you had no idea,” Spencer interjects, shaking his head. “Technically, you weren't even going to come tonight. She convinced you. So she should get half of the money, not you— Ow!” 

“Pretty boy,” Derek hisses. “Shut up. There are no technicalities, we won!” 

“Well, I'm just saying—”  

You block off the rest of their bickering to realize Emily's dragging you away from all the attention, something you're very grateful for.  

“Sorry about that.” Emily gives you a guilty smile as you finally get inside the house.  

“Are you sorry for kissing me, Emily Prentiss?” 

Her eyes widen comically, “wha—No! I just, I was saying sorry because of that whole thing they did—” you cut her off with a peck to her lips, chucking at her bewildered expression.  

“I'm messing with you. And don't be sorry, cause I'm not.” 

The grin plastered on her face is contagious. When she kisses you again, it's more urgent, needy, desperate.  

“My apartment or yours?” You ask breathless when your back hits the kitchen counter and she starts kissing down your neck.  

“Mine. It's closer.” She pulls you in for another passionate kiss before you drag her to exit the house. 

“Great, cause none of us is in any condition to drive and I can't wait for you to take this dress off of me.”  

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#lesbian emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x female reader #writing challenge #CM Pride Challenge

[obsessivefangirl]

Protestantism is fun until you realize each branch holds multiple different beliefs you have to believe to be one and this time there isn't an excuse of the church having supreme authority but the beats are the same

#not saying any denomination is wrong and they could totally be right #but isn't the whole point of the protestant movement to read the Bible and discuss it and through these discussions learn more and more? #I've learned multiple doctrines through exploring and sometimes i leave them behind sometimes i pick them up #and discussions with others and reading the Bible with that lens and changing more as you learn more opinions and interpretations #instead of saying 'we're Lutherans! here's our opinions on everything' :) #isn't that the whole point of being a protestant. #anyway i might be stupid and showing my nondenominational but. #protestantism #Christian #nondenominational

[multifandomimagin3s]

Realising they accidentally hurt you while making out - 141 + König

Requested by Anon

some angst, fluff, mentions of sexual themes but nothing explicit.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Gentle isn't really in his vocabulary - he's six feet of pure muscle and strength and while he tries to make a conscious effort to reign himself in, he can sometimes get a bit carried away in the moment.

For him to be physically intimate with you on any level, you'd have to be close to him; in this scenario, you'd have worked your way into his heart.

Doesn't like being vulnerable, point-blank.

But once he realises that he'd hurt you, someone he cares so deeply for, he feels guilty. Beyond guilty.

Notices the bruising on your wrists from his solid grip, when he'd been holding them above your head during a passionate kiss, and feels his stomach drop.

Even as you insist to him that you're okay, he'd be distant.

With all of his past experiences - with his Father, his Mother, and his childhood as a whole - he internally and solemnly swore that he would never lay a finger on you or hurt you, in any way.

And now? He feels like he's done just that.

Would probably take him a while to get out of that headspace - you knew that trying to push him wouldn't help but still checked up on him; which in turn made him feel more guilty, you were so kind to him and deep down he felt like he didn't deserve such kindness.

You would be cooking a meal for the both of you, when he would wrap his arms around your waist from behind, wordlessly pressing his head into the crook of your neck.

"'m sorry." He was apologising not just for the bruises, but for everything - he had been hiding himself away, and the lack of intimacy was borderline painful for the both of you.

You turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling you to him in a hug. He stiffened, before his arms tightened around you slightly, as if he was making sure that you were still here with him.

You were, and you silently promised that you weren't going anywhere.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny is your typical 'class clown' - he's charismatic in such a way that you can't help but laugh along with him, and his energy just makes him fun to be around.

The only time he really gets serious is when he's working but even then he's always one to crack jokes with the Team - namely, with Ghost (who 9/10 pretends to be annoyed at the Sergeant, rather than admitting he enjoys his company).

He always misses you so much when he's deployed - to be honest even if you were also in the military, if you both got sent on different missions or were even apart for a day, he'd still feel like he hadn't seen you in forever.

So when he does see you again, he's very passionate in showing you just how much he missed you.

It wasn't until you winced from how hard he was gripping onto your hip during a make-out session that he pulled away, panicked eyes searching your form for the source of the pain.

His eyes fell onto the slightly discoloured blotches on your hip, and he instantly frowned, scooping you into a hug.

"Aw I'm so sorry, Darlin', I didnae realise I was hurtin' ye."

The make-out session was completely abandoned, as he rubbed your hip gently, kissing your forehead.

Makes mental notes to keep his strength reigned in in future, and feels absolutely awful when he sees the finger-shaped bruises forming on your skin :(

Definitely would turn up with a bouquet of flowers for you, orders your favourite food and dotes on you for days after it - no matter how much you may protest, he's going to treat you the best he can.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Another guy who's very passionate when he's been away from you for a long period of time.

He misses you more than you'll ever know - he even carries a little photo of you in the pocket of his tactical vest.

Can get a bit excitable when making out, picking you up under your thighs, pushing you against the wall - a little bit too forcefully.

He notices your breath hitching and it takes him a second to realise that it wasn't sexual, but he had in fact accidentally knocked the back of your head against the wall with the momentum.

Immediately places you down on the bed, apologies continuously flowing out of his mouth as he pulls you to his chest, cradling your head.

It didn't hurt that much, more of a dull ache, but in his eyes he might as well have fractured your skull.

Like Soap, he dotes on you for ages after it, promising that in future he'll be more careful with his strength.

Captain John Price

He's been in the military for a long time so he likes to think that he has a good awareness of his strength, and is always mindful around you.

He doesn't treat you like you're fragile, but he's never rough with you - unless you ask, that is.

I reckon that he's incredibly good at reading people, so if he noticed even a slight hint of discomfort or pain on your features during a make-out session, he'd immediately stop and ask if you were alright.

If you voiced your discomfort or pain, he'd feel guilty for hurting you in the first place, hands delicately massaging any sore spots.

He treats you like royalty anyways, but after this? He'd practically on bended knee, would do anything you asked.

Wouldn't ask to continue with your make-out session, waiting for you to be comfortable first; he'd never want to make you feel pressured or uncomfortable with him.

All in all, he's very mature about it, apologising profusely - your happiness and safety is paramount to him.

König

König is always hyper aware of his sheer size and strength - he knows he's big and strong, it's what makes him so good at his job in the first place.

It's also why he's always so cautious around you, he practically treats you like you're made of glass.

Even if you're in the military or part of KorTac, he's still going to be hesitant to spar with you for fear of hurting you in the process.

If he hurt you while making out, he'd honestly want to curl up in a ball and cry.

Doesn't matter if it's a tiny bruise or a scrape, he's going to completely shut down; it'd be like how he was when you initially met him, the closed-off mercenary who doesn't speak to anyone and keeps to himself.

He tries to make it clear that he's not angry at you - quite the opposite, he's livid with himself for not being able to control his own strength.

Like Ghost, it would take him a while to come around - but you would have to make the first move.

He would be sitting on your shared bed, head in his hands as he licks his wounds, inwardly cursing himself; his sniper hood would be back on, as if he was trying to hide himself away from the world.

Coming to stand between his legs, you'd gently place your hand over his, encouraging him to lift his head up to look at you.

"It's okay, I'm alright."

He said nothing, hands coming to rest on your hips, as he pressed his forehead to your stomach. You encircled your arms around his broad shoulders and his tentatively wrapped around your waist.

He'd eventually come around but it would take a lot of convincing to get him out of the mindset that he was going to end up hurting you again.

Poor guy just loves you so much :(

#simon riley #soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #konig #simon riley x reader #soap mactavish x reader #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #konig x reader #cod #call of duty #multifandomimagin3s

[dustofthedailylife]

You were not supposed to hear that...yet

→ Masterlist || → Taglist

Pairing: Alhaitham x (gn!) Reader

Summary: Alhaitham reveals a secret about the inner workings of his heart to his friends over a cup of wine and in between some banter. However, he did not expect it would go this wrong...

Tags: Fluff, crack, comfort, teasing, consumption of alcohol (by characters), the whole 4ggravate crew is here, friendly banter between friends, a small sprinkle of angst because reader is insecure (but it's unjustified)

A/N: Dust posting a new fic?! Not an April Fool's joke, despite the date! Finally felt inspired and well enough again to finish this fic that has been rotting in my WIPs forever. I hope you like it. And feel free to hit me up with asks and reblogs - it'd motivate me greatly after my long break 🥺

The usual friend group of Cyno, Kaveh, Tighnari, and him - Alhaitham, was sitting at the Tavern. A gathering like it happened almost every weekend at this point.

The wine bottle on the table had been emptied around two or three times already when Kaveh ordered a new one yet again. At this point, Alhaitham had actually lost count of how many glasses of wine he'd already had, too. But one thing was for certain, he could feel the alcohol in his system and the warm blood that was rushing to his cheeks. All things considered though, despite feeling a little tipsy from the intoxication, he was still able to think clearly.

"Let me guess I'm the one who will have to end up covering your bill again?" He took sarcastic a jab at Kaveh. 

The man in question just squinted his eyes and glared daggers at him before opening his mouth in an attempt to protest before it was quickly shot down by Tighnari's hand covering it.

Alhaitham leisurely leaned back in his chair smirking to himself, training his focus back onto the TCG cards in his hands and considering his next turn of action in the game he was playing against Cyno.

"What, am I just supposed to take it all the time and be quiet?!" Kaveh retorted, directed at Tighnari. The fox's ears were beginning to droop lower and lower as his expression became more and more deadpan.

"You all know as well as I do that if [Y/N] was here he wouldn't be acting like this. He would be on his best behavior and pay for the drinks without so much as complaining or being so cocky."

"By the way," Tighnari attempted to divert the attention away from Kaveh's ranting. "Where are they? Didn't you say they wanted to stop by the Tavern as well today, Alhaitham?"

Alhaitham played his round, throwing his card Cyno's way before looking up at Tighnari again.

"They mentioned it but I suppose something must've come up instead. I will ask tomorrow."

"Isn't it strange?" Kaveh addressed the others. "Whenever it involves [Y/N] he graciously offers himself up to talk to them and seek them out but whenever someone else is looking for him he is nowhere to be found."

"Maybe you just can't find me because I simply don't have anything to discuss with you." Alhaitham threw another jab at Kaveh with a smirk, which was promptly followed by a light punch against his bicep by the blonde architect.

"What? I constantly have to talk to you already when we're at ho-"

"SHHH! Don't say that out loud." Kaveh hissed, quickly covering Alhaitham's mouth in panic, since he didn’t want him to spell out that they were currently living together. “It's embarrassing enough that I currently have no other choice, no need to add to my misery.”

A witty quip was burning at the tip of Alhaitham's tongue after Kaveh's remark yet again, but he decided to swallow it. He didn't want to upset him too much, especially since he knew he'd had it rough lately. Even if it would've been said in jest, there was no need to add insult to injury. Instead, he simply resorted to taking another sip of his wine with a low chuckle and a glance in the blonde architect’s direction.

“Aaaaanyway…”, Tighnari cleared his throat, addressing Alhaitham once more. “What is it between [Y/N] and you anyway? You've become quite close haven't you?”

“That's an understatement.” Kaveh groaned, dropping his head on his folded arms on the table dramatically. “He can't stop talking about them. Day in and day out it’s [Y/N]-this, [Y/N]-that.”

“We started working on a project about six months ago. Things are progressing quite smoothly if I do say so myself. Certainly makes things easier if you're working with someone who is both hardworking and intelligent in every way. I’ve been lucky to have been assigned to the project with them.” Alhaitham answered Tighnari’s question rationally while ignoring Kaveh’s dramatic display.

“Here he goes again.” Kaveh huffed, directing his comment at Cyno and Tighnari. “Whenever he talks about them you hear nothing but praises.”

“If someone is doing a great job, is it not logical to give them the credit they deserve?” Alhaitham added matter of factly.

“No… I mean yes, but no. It's just not something I'd see you doing. It’s so out of character.” Kaveh huffed. “And before you say anything, yes, maybe I just don't know that side of you because I don't give you any reason to praise me. No need to add that, thank you.”

Kaveh poked his tongue out at Alhaitham before taking a big sip from his wine.

“Why, if you want to be praised you just need to say so, Kaveh. I think you're quite brilliant - your shortcomings aside.” He just had to add that last bit. Kaveh was just way too easy to tease. And what would this friend group be without the playful banter and jabs at each other?

Kaveh choked on the drink immediately and slammed his cup down onto the table with a loud clang. A fire burned behind his crimson eyes when he spoke next.

“This is exactly what I meant, thanks for proving my point!”

Kaveh looked at Cyno and Tighnari gesturing in the direction of Alhaitham with a move that said “Do you see what I mean now?”.

Tighnari just facepalmed and shook his head.

“And what is your point exactly?” Cyno inquired, playing a card from his hand.

“Did you not listen to what he said?” Kaveh gasped.

“Not really,” Cyno admitted honestly, his eyes trained back on the cards in his hands.

“It's the fact that he can praise others too, but never without also pointing out their faults in the same sentence. Did no one ever notice that? However, he never does that when it's [Y/N].” Kaveh explained.

“And?” Tighnari and Cyno replied in unison, looking puzzled as to where Kaveh wanted to go with this.

Kaveh put his head in his hand and groaned in frustration. “Sometimes you all make me feel like I am surrounded by idiots.”

Now everyone raised their eyebrows at him.

“You're all so clueless… anyway.” He sighed dramatically and accusingly pointed a finger at Alhaitham. “This guy. This admittedly handsome but blockheaded, know-it-all, stoic, annoying-”

“Get to the point.” Alhaitham chided, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine, fine." Kaveh spread his arms like he was holding a presentation and Alhaitham his canvas.

“This guy's right here, as alien as it may sound – has fallen in love.” 

“You're in love?!” Cyno exclaimed his eyes widening. “With who?!”

Tighnari rolled his eyes, knowing full well Cyno hadn't listed at all the past ten minutes because he had been so absorbed in his cards, and gently slapped the back of his head.

“[Y/N], of course!” The Forest Ranger exclaimed with a huff.

Cyno, now rubbing the back of his head just ushered a “Wait really?” while Kaveh and Tighnari just curiously began eyeing Alhaitham in the hope of seeing any type of confirmation on his face. However, it stayed as unreadable as ever.

He nonchalantly took another sip of wine from his cup while leisurely looking back and forth between the cards on the table and the ones in his hand before playing another turn as if this conversation just now hadn't happened.

“So!?” Kaveh asked, almost hysterically at this point. “Do you intend to enlighten us?”

Just how had he gotten into this situation now? Alhaitham suppressed a sigh before turning to Cyno: “Your turn. Two of your cards are down.”

“Archons!” Cyno cussed, immediately attempting to go back to study his cards but a fist slammed the table harshly, drawing all attention to it.

Tighnari flinched in shock and Cyno, too seemed to be pulled back to reality. Kaveh’s hand was trembling slightly, visibly agitated.

“Stop changing the subject, Alhaitham. The more you keep avoiding answering the question the more I think I am right in my assumptions.”

Alhaitham pinched the bridge of his nose beginning to truly feel a little stressed by Kaveh’s insistance. The man was truly too nosy for his good.

“Kaveh, just let it be if he doesn’t-” Tighnari began before being cut off by Alhaitham.

“And what if you are right? What then, Kaveh?”

Everyone at the table fell silent and everyone was staring at him with a mix of disbelief and shock.

He hadn't planned to reveal any of this yet, especially since he feared they would try to become his wingman. Which, admittedly, may be a nice gesture on paper but with them it could only end in disaster. Plus he would prefer to deal with his feelings alone first and think them through thoroughly, before talking about them with anyone. Besides, it should be you, if anyone, who should hear about them first - alas he was too deep into this now to weasel his way out.

“What?!” Kaveh’s mouth hung open in shock.

“So it is true then?” Cyno inquired, putting the card in his hand down on the table, now suddenly fully hooked on the tea that was being spilled.

“Hold on. Pause.” Kaveh sat upright, before quickly gazing over Alhaitham’s shoulder. “So you-”

“For Archon’s sake.” Alhaitham was beginning to get annoyed because he didn't know how much clearer he had to become for them to get it. “Yes - I’ve been in love with them. For a while now-”

“Alhaitham-” Kaveh tried to interject.

“No, don't interrupt me now, you pestered me about it for the past twenty minutes now you'll have to listen. I have never met anyone who is so hardworking, intelligent, and stunning in any way. Of course, I would be infatuated with a person like them. It would be hard not to fall for them.”

“Uhm Alhai–” Kaveh laughed awkwardly before being interrupted by Alhaitham’s ongoing monologue once more.

“At first I wasn't sure about it but I am now. I am thinking about them first thing in the morning and last thing when I go to sleep - unless you're hammering away on some project again that keeps me awake, Kaveh.”

Kaveh waved for him to shut up already but Alhaitham didn't let that bother him. If he wanted the full story with all the details - he'd get it. He hoped that would get this discussion out of the way once and for all.

“And guess what? They even remembered how I liked my coffee just after I told them once and gifted me a book that I had been trying to find for weeks. So yes, Kaveh. I love [Y/N]. There, does that suffice now, or?”

Kaveh let out a squeal as soon as Alhaitham had stopped speaking but upon further inspection of his expression, it hadn't been one of excitement but rather pure terror and awkwardness. 

“Alhaitham…” Cyno and Tighnari said in unison and he only then noticed as well how their gaze was trained on a spot behind him.

“What?” Alhaitham inquired, curling a brow up in confusion before all three men pointed their fingers at something behind him.

When he turned his head around to look at what they were trying to show him, he felt his heart drop to his stomach for the first time in ages.

To his utter shock, you were standing right behind him. Or rather, you were frozen in place, your hand still half lifted in greeting as if you had just been about to greet the lot of them. Your mouth was slightly open in shock still and your pupils were but the size of pinpricks and transfixed on Alhaitham.

And judging by your reaction you must've heard every last word he had said.

“I-I…” You started stammering, clearly confused about what you had just heard. “I uh-, I'll head back home.”

You abruptly turned around on your heel and marched straight out the Tavern door you had just come through as if someone was chasing you.

Alhaitham hadn't moved a muscle ever since he had spotted you standing behind him and he looked like he was frozen in place. Everyone at the table had fallen so silent, one would've been able to hear a needle drop.

Alhaitham's eyes were still fixed on the door you had left through. The little bell that chimed every time the Tavern door hit it on the way in or out was still dangling lightly from the impact. But the movement was dying down slowly but surely - just like Alhaitham, who felt like someone had dropped a boulder on his chest.

You were not supposed to hear that, yet.

“You uh…, Alhaitham you should probably follow them.” Tighnari was the first to speak again. He awkwardly scratched behind his ears. Cyno hummed in agreement while Kaveh just sat there with his mouth wide open.

Alhaitham exhaled in frustration, unable to properly place his emotions. But they were somewhere between unsettled, nervous, and discomforted.

When he got up it felt like someone had tied heavy iron blocks to his ankles that were weighing him down.

“Yeah, I guess I do,”  Alhaitham muttered before marching off.

When you stormed outside the Tavern the cool evening breeze gnawed at your skin and made goosebumps erupt all over. Although you weren't quite sure if it was the temperature or your emotional turmoil at play here.

There was no way Alhaitham had just said that and actually meant it. He wouldn't be the type of man to flat-out admit that he had feelings for anyone. Or would he? He had been talking to his closest friends after all.

You were questioning your sense of reality and thought you must've fabricated it all in your mind. Or maybe you misheard what he said and he was talking about something else entirely.

But no, he said your name, and the others looked panicked when you entered the tavern and approached the table.

As you rushed through the streets of Sumeru City the chilly wind kept whipping in your face. Not even you knew where you were going at this point. You simply went where your feet were carrying you.

But eventually, you realized you had run up the Akademiya and to the blue-green mosaic pavilion that glistened in the last rays of sunlight. The spot at which you and Alhaitham often spent your lunch break together. 

You sunk down on the bench exhaustedly and stared holes in the ground.

No way.

There was just no way.

Alhaitham. The man you had fallen for so hard that he had begun to occupy every waking thought you had. That man was supposed to have feelings for you and had just flat-out admitted it?

No, this simply had to be a dream. A bad joke. Or maybe even a bet between the group that they orchestrated to prank you.

You could feel your heart thumping in your head and it felt like your head was swimming. It was as if you had downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself, but you were as sober as one could be.

Yes, that had to be it. It was a bet between the boys over one too many cups of wine and they had all acted their parts out flawlessly.

You got up again walking to the railing, overlooking Sumeru city that shone majestically in the last remaining rays of sunshine that the day had to offer. Another gush of wind blew your way, making tears well up in your eyes. Although it may have also been your emotions who were to blame for that instead.

You inhaled deeply. Once. Twice. But nothing seemed to help calming the rapidly beating heart in your chest.

In your daze, you completely missed how someone had quietly come up to the pavilion as well.

Alhaitham leaned against the railing himself, looking over the city in silence, too. He was clearly ringing for words. Although you assumed the wrong reason for his struggle.

“Look,” you began, trying your hardest to suppress the tremble in your voice. “If you came here to apologize - please, spare me your words.”

He looked at you opening his mouth before closing it again right after with a silent nod. His cheeks were dusted in a light pink shade - you assumed it was caused by the alcohol he had downed at the tavern with the others.

“I hope that we can go back to normal tomorrow and just finish our project. I’d prefer if we kept our distance after that. I think it’s for the best” The words left your mouth at normal speed, but it felt like you had to force every single one out. They felt tenacious, like old chewing gum that you tried to pull out from in between your teeth.

“I understand.” He stated calmly before retraining his gaze back into the distance. 

You both kept standing next to each other in silence for a long while before you decided to confront him about it directly. You eventually decided it was for the best if you got things off your chest now so that you could get over him quickly. Ripping it off like a band-aid would hopefully give you the relief you so desperately craved right now.

“You know,” you began. “I don’t know who came up with the idea and I also don’t care, no need to tell me. But you guys should never do this to anyone again because you never know how much it might end up hurting someone else’s feelings.”

Alhaitham stood upright and turned to face you directly. He crossed his arms over his chest and slightly cocked his head like he always did when he was thinking about something you said.

After a momentary pause, he asked: “What do you mean?”

“I mean that you shouldn’t toy with someone’s feelings as a prank. It’s never actually funny for anyone but the people who orchestrate such a prank. No matter if the other person reciprocates the feelings or whether they believe the statement, they always end up being the one who is being ridiculed.” You explained as rationally as possible, which was a stark contrast to the tempest that was raging both inside of your heart and mind.

“Especially when the person hoped to hear those exact words for the longest time, too…” You added. It wasn't more than an utterance under your breath - so quietly it was barely audible. But Alhaitham heard nonetheless.

“But I meant everything I said.” He stated matter of factly, seemingly catching on to the fact that you must’ve assumed the wrong things about the whole situation.

“What?! Alhaitham, please, there is no need to add insult to injury. You had your fun now–”

“No.” He gently took your hands in his, exhaling heavily. “Archons, you weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

He rarely swore which made the impact of his words even stronger.

“I wanted to tell you face to face and was waiting for the right moment to do so. But, just know that every word you heard and everything I said back at the tavern was the truth. No bet or scheme made me say it. Not that anyone would be able to make me say these things in the first place.” He sighed once more, giving your hands an emphasizing squeeze. “I meant it.”

“You did?”

“Every word.”

You felt the blood rush to your face and immediately lowered your gaze in an attempt to hide your flusteredness.

“Had I known this would happen, I would’ve told you everything right from the start. I don’t like how this went now but–”, he moved his hands up to cup your face. His beautiful turquoise eyes trained on no one but you. 

“I’m absolutely certain I like you. You drive me crazy. And I love and hate how much you occupy every waking thought of mine because I can’t focus on anything when you’re around. And when you’re not, you’re still always on my mind. So please – be mine.”

Do not repost, copy, translate or edit - © dustofthedailylife || reblogs, comments, and asks about Genshin or my fics are always greatly appreciated and motivate me! Maple dividers are mine - do not copy.

#genshin impact #astronetwrk #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x y/n #genshin fluff #genshin crack #genshin alhaitham #genshin x y/n #genshin impact fanfic #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin brainrot #genshin headcanons #🍁 dust writes #🍁彡 gi

[unclewaynemunson]

Pt2 of the badly kept secrets of Eddie's heart monitor

After the first two weeks, Steve seems to have suddenly decided to stop visiting Eddie. No explanation, no goodbye: one day he's there, and then he... Isn't. It takes a few days, sometimes, Steve has a life of his own after all, but a whole week goes by with nothing. And another one. Eddie only knows he's alive – and in town – because the others told him when he asked. Maybe Steve's gotten tired of being surrounded by all that hospital sterility. Or maybe he's gotten tired of being around Eddie. Or maybe... Eddie groans and takes up a stare-down with the fucking heart monitor that's still attached to him at all times, his biggest enemy.

Unfortunately, he has way too much time on his hands, alone in this room and unable to do anything but lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. It makes it far too easy to let his thoughts spiral. Maybe – no, probably, certainly, undoubtedly – that goddamn heart monitor was the ideal help for Steve to decipher Eddie's biggest secret without any difficulties.

Yes, that must be the reason why Steve is staying away. Sure, the guy could tolerate being around “the freak” for a few hours a week out of pity, but of course he wouldn't want anything to do with him anymore upon finding out exactly what kind of freaky thoughts he really has about Steve. Steve was polite enough to pretend like he didn't notice the heart monitor speeding up every single time he got in Eddie's proximity, but of course, of course he noticed. He noticed and now he hates Eddie.

And honestly? He has every right to hate Eddie, with the way Eddie has been exploiting every opportunity to get Steve to touch him. Even though he'd regret it right away whenever the heart monitor couldn't shut the fuck up, Eddie never learned from his mistakes. He was even stupid enough to find meaning in the way Steve's touch would linger after helping him lie down or sit up, stupid enough to find tenderness in the way Steve held his arms when helping him out of his bed and to the bathroom. Obviously, Steve never wanted any of that. Obviously, that only made Steve uncomfortable, but the poor guy was too polite to lash out to the dude chained to a hospital bed healing from having all his organs chewed inside out.

Eddie sighs and closes his eyes; not because he wants to sleep, but because the staring contest with the heart monitor isn't really getting him anywhere. Maybe it's for the best that Steve is staying away. That way, Eddie might be able to get over him more easily. He doesn't deserve Steve's friendship anyway.

***

“I wanna visit Eddie today.”

“Alright, have fun,” Steve answers. “Tell him I said hi.”

Robin sighs dramatically. “No, dingus, you're coming with me. I need a ride.”

“No!” It comes out of his mouth a little too quick, a little too loud, and Robin raises her eyebrows at him.

“No, I can't,” he explains in a calmer voice.

Robin raises her eyebrows even further, making them disappear beneath her bangs altogether. “You literally just told me you don't have plans after work.”

“Yeah, but...” He lets his voice fade out and settles on muttering something incomprehensible.

“I did not understand one single word of what you were saying,” Robin points out. She sounds annoyed, but there's a vaguely amused smile playing around her lips, betraying how she really feels about the whole thing. “Seriously, what's up with you and Eddie? Did you have a fight or something?”

“No...”

“Until two weeks ago, you were at the hospital basically every spare minute of your time. You even canceled two dates just so you could spend more time with Eddie! And now, all of a sudden, you'd rather spend your evening on your own at home watching TV than visit your friend?”

“He's not my friend,” Steve protests.

She gives him a punch against his shoulder.

“Okay, I'm pretty sure he hates me, Rob.” Steve finally caves in. “He gets, like, very uncomfortable whenever I'm around. And I don't wanna add to his discomfort any more than necessary, so it's better I stay away from him.”

“Well, I don't know what on earth gave you that idea, but that is by far the biggest load of bullcrap I heard all week,” Robin says matter-of-factly. “He's asked about you every single time I visited him. He'll be happy to see you, dingus, you're coming with me today. No excuses.”

***

Like clockwork, the steady beeping of the heart monitor falters as soon as Eddie locks eyes with Steve. To make things even worse, what little color that is on Eddie's cheeks leaves his face immediately.

Despite the paleness of Eddie's face, Steve can't help but notice how good he looks in comparison to when he last saw him two weeks ago. He's sitting straight up, leaning against a pillow, and the look in his eyes is far from drowsy.

“S-Steve,” Eddie stutters out. “Hi.” He clears his throat. “And – and Robin, of course, hi! Good to see ya, Buck.” He stretches out his arms to embrace her, and Steve awkwardly comes up behind her. It feels weird not to follow Robin's example and give him a hug, but when he bows over the bed and wraps his arms around Eddie, the beeping immediately picks up speed again. To make things even worse, Eddie quite literally recoils from his touch, leaning away as far as possible and letting his arms hover in the air around Steve more than actually hugging him back.

When Steve looks at Robin, he notices that her eyes have grown about twice their normal size while they flash back and forth between Eddie, the machines around his bed, and Steve.

He locks eyes with her and tries to silently convey a See, I told you so about Eddie resenting him. She answers with a barely visible nod and relief fills Steve's chest. He's lucky to have Robin right by his side, his best friend, the one person he can always count on understanding him. She'll get them out of here in no time and leave Eddie in peace and –

“Oh shoot, sorry, I forgot I need to get a, um, a thing from the car,” Robin says. “I'll be right back.”

As she stumbles out of the room, Steve wants to scream at her that that was very much the opposite of what he wanted her to do, but she disappears before he can do anything about it, only leaving an awkward silence in her wake. So Steve has no choice but to turn back to Eddie and take his familiar place in the chair beside his bed.

“I kinda didn't expect to see you anymore.” Eddie is the one to break the silence. He sounds more distant than the last time Steve saw him. It must be worse than Steve thought: Eddie had been happy to be rid of him and now here he is again, after a meager two weeks of peace.

“Sorry,” Steve mumbles. “She insisted I come with her.”

“So you didn't wanna come?”

Steve chuckles darkly at the irony in that question, not really knowing how to answer that.

“Alright, I'm just gonna say it,” says Eddie when it becomes clear that Steve doesn't quite know what to say. “You figured out what I – how I felt about you, didn't you? Cause of the heart thing.”

Steve looks away, stares intently at the ugly dark blue linoleum carpet under his feet.

“Yeah,” he quietly confesses. There's no use denying it now, he figures.

Eddie heaves out a long sigh.

“For what it's worth: I'm really sorry, Steve, I didn't mean to make you-”

“It's fine,” Steve quickly interrupts him. He doesn't think he could bear Eddie's pity right now. “Don't worry about it. I just wanted to give you some space, y'know, get outta your hair for a bit. I didn't want to make this any more painful for you than it has to be.”

“Really?”

The heart monitor stutters again and Eddie's voice sounds weirdly strained. Steve can't help but look up. He's met with big brown eyes that are looking at him like Eddie actually cares about him. For a moment, Steve imagines to see tears, but then Eddie blinks and the illusion is gone.

“I um... I appreciate that, man,” Eddie says.

Another awkward silence dawns over the room.

“Wait,” Eddie says after a few seconds. “So you're not angry?”

“No!” Steve immediately replies – and it's true. He understands why Eddie doesn't like being around him, that too much has happened in the past for them to just move on and hold hands or some shit.

“It's not your fault,” he tells Eddie. He looks away again, back to the floor in front of his sneakers. “If it's anyone's fault, it's mine, right?”

Eddie huffs out a sound of disbelief. “Why, cause you're just too damn sexy, Harrington?”

Steve frowns. “Well, no, cause I was an asshole and I was mean to your friends during all of high school and it's stupid of me to expect you to just get over that shit and-”

“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”

There's that stutter in the heart monitor again. It makes Steve wonder if he's putting Eddie's health at risk by simply existing next to him. Maybe it would be better to leave Eddie alone and wait in the car until Robin is done with her visit. What the hell is taking her so long anyway?

He keeps his eyes stubbornly focused on the blue floor. “Isn't that why you got so uncomfortable having me around?” he points out. “Look, I get it, man. I was an asshole, it's true. And it was selfish of me to keep showing up here only because you were too polite to say to my face what you thought about me. I was only thinking about myself and about how much I liked being here with you, it wasn't fair.”

All of a sudden, the soft touch of a hand lands on his shoulder. He hates how that makes his own heart speed up. If he were the one attached to a heart monitor, Eddie would've seen right through him in an instant, that's for sure.

He looks up and meets Eddie's wide-eyed, somewhat shocked face.

“You - you thought you were making me uncomfortable?” Eddie asks him, sounding like he's completely gobsmacked.

Steve frowns. “Isn't that what we've been talking about for the past five minutes?”

“Steve,” Eddie says. “I am so sorry. I didn't – I never – Look. Listen.” He removes his hand from Steve's shoulder and roughly wipes it over his face. His heart monitor accelerates even further. “Please don't hate me for what I'm about to tell you, okay?” He doesn't wait for a reaction, only uses his pause to take a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again and looking right into Steve's.

“I'm gay, Steve. And that evil computer over there-” He points towards the heart monitor, “-keeps betraying my big, fat, gay crush on you. Every time you walk in here, or read my book to me, or do so much as smile at me, I just – God, I'm such a goner for you and there was no hiding it because of that stupid fucking thing.”

This time, Steve is quite sure he is not at all imagining the tears in Eddie's eyes.

“I thought that's why you stopped visiting. Cause you figured out how gay I am – about you – and you didn't want anything to do with that. With me. Being gay. For you.”

Eddie swallows. He lifts a hand and pulls a strand of hair over his face in a poor attempt to hide the truly terrified expression that's all over his features.

“Jesus, Eddie,” Steve breathes out. He can't even begin to comprehend how spectacularly wrong he has been about everything. It's almost like he's in shock. Only a minute ago, he thought Eddie despised him. And now, he has to process the revelation that the guy in fact has had a crush on him – a “big, fat, gay crush” – all along. That the reason his heart was behaving so weirdly was because Steve's proximity made him lovesick. That he recoiled from Steve's touches out of fear that the monitor would give him away and make Steve realize he was gay and in love with him.

“Please say something?” It sounds like a question, small and so afraid of what is about to come.

“Eddie, I – Jesus. This is... A lot. To process,” Steve manages to choke out.

“I know,” Eddie says. “I'm sorry I made you think I hated you. But... Please don't hate me. I really missed you visiting. We can be friends, right? You won't even have to touch me ever again, we can just hang out like bros, and I'll try to get my feelings for you under control, and you can-”

Steve finally gains control over his body again: he leaps forward and presses his lips against Eddie's with slightly more force than he had meant to do.

A surprised yelp escapes from Eddie's mouth, and the beeping of the heart monitor goes even crazier. It makes Steve's own heart do a goddamn cartwheel, that audible proof of what he is making Eddie feel.

He completely understands why the heart monitor is going batshit crazy right now; everything about this is fucking amazing. One of his hands finds its way to Eddie's surprisingly soft hair, and he revels in the feeling of touching Eddie again and in the taste of Eddie's lips against his own, and maybe he should just climb into Eddie's bed to–

“Thank God for that.”

They quickly jump apart to find Robin standing in the doorway, an annoyingly smug grin on her face.

“You two could really not be more stupid if you tried, huh?”

Steve squints at her while his hand blindly finds Eddie's on top of the sheets and curls itself around it. He feels his cheeks heat up, but he doesn't care. Nothing matters anymore, except for Eddie's hand warmly resting in his own.

“Did you even need anything from the car at all?” he asks Robin, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No, of course not,” Robin scoffs. “Just needed you idiots to finally get your shit together. I don't think I've ever met anyone more dense than the two of you, seriously! There were at least three moments when I almost barged in here to just smash your faces tog-”

“You were eavesdropping on us?!”

“Obviously.”

Steve opens his mouth, indignant and ready to tell her exactly how mean and evil she is, but she merely raises a hand and the look in her eyes is terrifying enough to shut him up before he has even started speaking.

“Hey, listen,” she says. Something in her face softens. “I'm really happy for you guys. Seriously, no matter how stupid you are, you two deserve every bit of happiness in the world.” She takes a step backwards towards the door. “I'll go wait in the car, dingus. Go kiss each other some more.”

And before Steve or Eddie can say anything, she winks and closes the door behind her.

Taglist: @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @saramelaniemoon @lololol-1234 @carlajim98 @7-starboi @acedorerryn @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @zoeweee @resident-gay-bitch @my2amgaythoughts @didntwant2come @steveshairspray @noodle-shenaniganery @thedragonsaunt @finntheehumaneater @queerriotgrrrl @co5m0 @dino-nuggets-posts

#in which robin is all of us #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #they're idiots your honor #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #fruity ficlet

[ifangirlalot]

if ur still taking requests i would love to see submissive miles fairchild or sal fisher, the thought of either writhing under u, whiny and needy is just too good

˗ˏˋ 𝐓𝐎𝐏!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐒𝐔𝐁!𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 ˎˊ˗ | starring miles fairchild & sal fisher

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: sub boyfriend, dom reader, tip rubbing, edging, degradition, orgasm denial, dick riding, face sitting

OMG! FINALLY I WAS HOPING I'D GET A SAL REQUEST! nnnnyahhh

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Miles Fairchild ˚ ☁️

Miles is sputtering beneath me, his eyelids fluttering almost helplessly as he babbles incoherently with every up and down motion of my body. Despite how controlling and demanding he is, how intimidating he is, it surprisingly wasn't very hard to turn into a whimpering, stuttering mess. Turns out, it's a lot easier to do so when he isn't actually in the house. Quint's influence can't touch him if he's not on the property.

Now, don't get me wrong. I love Miles fucking me into submission and degrading me to the fullest, but it's so amazing that I could reduce a headstrong, controlling, dominant force into nothing more than a pile of whimpering, begging filth.

Slowly, I reach my hand down and wrap it around his throbbing cock, pressing my thumb against his clothed tip. In response, Miles let out a surprisingly high pitched whine, his back arching slightly. "A-ah.. oh no, Mistress.. n-no, not there, I don't wanna cum yet.. n-no please.." he begs softly, eyes still squeezed shut as though he's afraid of he looks at me his cock will explode with cum.

"Hush." I say gently, yet firmly. I've quickly discovered that Miles prefers to be praised, which fits well with the person that he is. Miles normally doesn't like to be told he's doing something wrong. It wounds his otherwise enormous ego. Which is what I want. Ignoring him, I go back to rubbing his leaking tip through his boxers.

"No, Miss! P-pleaseeeee..! Oh please, I'll do anything just please don't make me cum.. I want your pussy, I want your boobs, please.. oh GOD please!" Miles continues to beg. I roll my eyes like it's a chore for me and slowly pull his boxers down to his knees, allowing his fully erect dick to bounce out, almost hitting his stomach. For such a skinny guy, Miles is packing some heat down there. If Miles were in charge, he'd be making me tell him how big it is. Except now, I'm the one in charge, and that brings a smirk to my face.

Miles let out another tiny whimper, and I can feel him watching my face, trying to gauge my reaction to his cock, so hard and ready for me. But I keep my face blank and impassive on purpose, just to beat his ego a little.

"I-it's big.. right Mistress?.." Miles finally asks, tentatively.

It is big. It's really big, actually. But the point of this whole scenario is to humble him, so I shrug, which damn near brings Miles to tears, based on his hurt look. But he very noticeably doesn't use the safe word I gave him, so... Maybe he kinda likes being put in his place?

"Size doesn't matter, my love. Now shut up and I'm gonna ride you, okay?" I smirk and reach for the pack of condoms in Miles's nightstand. Miles doesn't like to use condoms, he says he doesn't like the feel of latex on his cock. But, just tonight, I'm going to make him wear a condom. In all seriousness, if he's going to accidentally knock me up, I'd rather it be on one of the nights he's railing me straight into his bed.

When he sees where my hand is going, he whines in protest and starts to squirm. "Oh no.. n-no, ma'am, please no condom, y-you know I don't like them, please.."

"You'll wear it and you'll fucking like it or you'll have to use your hand." I say firmly, my jaw set.

Miles whimpers and squirms more, begging a little more feebly now. "B-but.. you like t-to.. f-feel my.. my cum.." He gulps as I pull out a single packet and rip it open. He whimpers again, knowing that he's lost.

"Shut up, or I'll stuff my underwear into your mouth to shut you up myself." I say, my voice low and commanding.

Miles's face goes bright red and he moans lowly, a shudder ripping through his body.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

┊ ˚➶ ｡Sal Fisher ˚ ☁️

"Pleasepleaseplease, just.. just let me.. please I want to, I-I want.." Sal's words are coated with a whimper. Drool pooling out of his heavily scarred mouth. His prosthetic lays on the bedside table, the straps hanging limply over the edge. Without his mask, he can't stop drooling, due to the hole torn into the side of his cheek. Most people would think his face is grotesque, but to me it's weirdly beautiful.

Sal's hands are tied together to the bedframe, his lean body squirming underneath mine.

"Shh.. shh.. not right now, we're only just starting, baby.." I say softly, cupping his cheek as my thumb caresses his cheek. My affection makes him whine quietly as he pushes his face against my hand, seeking more. I smile and slowly pull my hand away. I put my hands on his sides to hold him steady as I slowly start to ride him a little harder. He writhes under me and moans out loudly, pushing his hips quickly against mine.

"Mommy.. mommy.. pleasepleasepleasepleaseee.. Gonna.. gonna cum.. m-mm.. I g-gotta.." Sal's adorably pathetic whines almost make me want to give in... but no. That would be too kind. I can see his hands struggling against the restraints, trying to reach out to touch me. His one real eye is glazed over with tears, like he's trying to coax me into untying his hands so he can grab me and hold me against him while he fucks himself into me.

I wrap my hand around his wrists and hold them tight while I bounce my hips quickly. "Don't you cum, Sally. If you cum we'll have to keep going until I want to stop."

He moans loudly and shakes his head in a somewhat lazy way. "N-nuh.. nuh.. oh please no, c-can't take it.."

Eventually, I slowly pull myself off him. His cock is so coated with fluids, both his and mine, that it's shiny with it. I smirk and grab a handful of his electric blue hair and hold his head down as I slowly sink onto his face.

Sal is really good at having his face ridden.

His tongue immediately gets to work swirling around. I moan quietly and tilt my head back, my mouth dropping open in pleasure. "Oh yeah.. that's my good boy.."

His tongue is coated with moisture and it's cold, which makes it all the more better. I rock my hips quicker, clutching his hair harder, causing him to whimper muffledly against my pussy.

Oh, this is going to be an incredibly fun night for me.

#💭 ۫⠀DRABBLE.⠀୨୧⠀· ˚ #miles fairchild #sal fisher #miles fairchild x reader #sal fisher x reader #miles fairchild smut #sal fisher smut #miles fairchild x you #sal fisher x you #the turning #sally face #finn wolfhard #finn wolfhard smut #finn wolfhard x reader #finn wolfhard x you

[sunkissed-zegras]

𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 ─ LH⁴³

౨ৎ ─ summary | requested ! can u write rough car smut with luke hughes please 🫶🏻🫶🏻 -> luke storms out of your friend's party because of a "good-natured" comment, causing you two to get into an argument in his car but quickly make up.

─ word count | 2k

─ warnings | SMUT with teensy bit of plot!!!!!!! slight angst, car sex (obvs), jealous!luke, rough!luke (not too much tho), unprotected p in v, no prep, dumbification (pls idk if this is the right word for it) but like VERY LITTLE, praise, luke being PUSSY DRUNK, choking (but not really), and pretty sure nothing else.

─ taglist | @dancerbailey @maryleclerc @valluvsu @bowen-power @bunting58 @daisysnhl @daisysthings @hearts-4-luke @iminlovewithtz11 @jackhughesily @literatureluster @lvrzegras @lxvelyzoe @ru-kru

─ ev's notes | this is quickly turning into a luke hughes fan-page (even tho i'm supposed to be in MY QUINN HUGHES ERAAAAA) request some stuff!!! my requests are open rn!!!!!!!

ALL IT TOOK WAS one backhanded comment and Luke was out of there.

He was practically dragging you at this point, his hands gripping yours as he walked out of the room. It didn't take a whole lot to realize he was angry ─ he was fuming. His jaw clenched, and his steps were sharp and quick, he needed to remove himself from the situation before he said or did something he might later regret.

You struggled to keep up with his fast pace, feeling the tension radiating off him like heat from a flame. His grip on your hand was almost painful but you knew better than to protest or try to slow him down. When Luke was in this mood, it was best to let him cool off on his own terms.

You reached the car and he dropped your hand, opening the driver's door and getting inside. He didn't bother saying anything as he started the car as soon you got into it. You wanted to say something but you knew if you did, you will never hear the end of it.

You and Luke had gotten invited to one of your friend's get-together. Now this would be a normal occurrence if it weren't for the fact he strongly dislikes your friend. You knew why but it honestly didn't seem that big of a deal ─ your friend wasn't really a big fan of sports.

You knew the root of Luke's dislike for your friend stemmed from their differing interests. Luke, being a professional hockey player, lived and breathed the sport. It was his passion, his livelihood, and his identity in many ways. On the other hand, your friend couldn't care less about sports.

Now this all would not be a problem if your friend had a weird thing with teasing Luke. He really enjoyed getting a rise out of him but it wasn't like he targeted Luke, that was just how he was.

As the car hummed along the road, the tension inside it seemed to thicken with each passing mile. Luke's knuckles were white against the steering wheel, his jaw clenched so tightly it looked like it might crack.

"Luke, we need to talk about this," you spoke up (despite your better judgement). You couldn't really find the words to put it lightly. He was being too sensitive, you wanted to say.

But of course, you couldn't. That was mean. You glanced back at the brunette, sympathy written all over your expression.

Luke shot you a sharp glance, his eyes flashing with anger. "What's there to talk about?" he snapped, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. "Your friend was out of line, and I'm not going to stand around and be disrespected like that."

"He wasn't trying to disrespect you, Luke," you countered, your voice rising slightly. "He was just joking around, like he always does."

"Well, maybe his idea of a joke isn't as funny as he thinks," Luke retorted, his grip on the wheel tightening even further.

You shook your head, feeling your temper flare. "You're being too sensitive," you shot back, unable to hold back your frustration any longer. "He's my friend, Luke. I'm not going to just cut him out of my life because you can't take a joke."

You knew you'd stepped over the edge, crossed a boundary you shouldn't have. Regret seeped into your expression as Luke's anger seemed to triple, if that was even possible. Your mouth hung open, trying to say something, anything but nothing came out.

Luke's expression darkened at your words, his jaw tightening even further as he processed your response. The silence in the car grew heavy, suffocating, as both of you grappled with the weight of your words.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Luke spoke, his voice low and laced with barely-contained fury. "So that's how it is, huh?" he muttered, his gaze burning into yours.

"Luke, I'm sorry... I just-" You stammered, desperately trying to backtrack. "I just..."

But before you could finish your sentence, Luke's words cut through the air like a knife, his anger now laced with a bitter edge.

"He's a little bitch, why are you trying to defend him so badly?" Luke's gaze bore into you as he spoke. "I bet you he can't even skate correctly and he's over here talking about hockey like he knows anything about it."

As he continued to speak, his voice was filled with something more than just mere anger. You could practically feel the jealousy radiating off of him and finally, it made sense ─ he was jealous. Your heart almost did a flip, it was... kinda cute.

Despite the venom in his words, your lips began to curve into a small smile. Luke looked over and his anger seemed to turn into utter irritation.

"Why are you smiling?" His words came out harsh but you just shook your head.

You shook your head, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your lips. "I'm not laughing at you," you assured him, though your tone was light. "It's just... you're cute when you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He repeated, angry coursing through his body. "Of him? Why? It's not like he stands a chance against me in anything. Jesus, Y/N. Jealous?"

"I didn't mean it like that," you said quickly, reaching out to touch his arm in a gesture of reassurance. "I just meant... it's cute when you get all protective. Like you care about me."

Luke's expression softened slightly at your explanation, though the tension in his shoulders didn't ease. "Of course, I care about you," he said gruffly, his tone still tinged with irritation. "I hate that guy. So much, I don't think I've ever hated anyone more. And seeing him flirt with you-"

"What?" You interrupted. "Luke, he's not flirting with me."

Luke glared back at you, trying to suppress an annoyed groan. "Trust me, Y/N. I can fucking tell. You're just too friendly to get it. But you're my girl, I don't why he wants to one-up me. You're already mine."

"I am, I am yours." You repeated, your gaze softening slightly.

Luke looked back at you, his gaze filled with smugness and a maybe even desire. "Yeah," he replied breathlessly. "You fucking are." His voice was low and you felt his voice go right down south.

He pulled over the car and you felt your whole body burn up. He put the car in park and looked over at you, his gaze filled with desire. You knew you couldn't have him waiting so you just crossed over to him and straddled his lap.

Luke didn't waste any time ─ he grabbed your jaw and kissed you harshly. You let out an uncontrollable whimper at that, his touch almost bruising on your jaw. His lips drew lower, letting go of your jaw as he began kissing your neck.

You couldn't help but let out quiet whimpers, letting your head fall back.

"Mine," he mumbled against your neck with each kiss on your neck. You began grinding your hips against his and you felt his hard-on right on your clothed cunt, your whole body shaking with desire.

He stopped his actions and you let out a huff of disapproval. He gestured for you to move in the backseat and you did with no question, laying back as Luke got on top of you.

He slid your hips upward before taking ripping your leggings off. His touch was harsh but you didn't mind ─ Luke usually took his time with you and was much softer but you knew his mind was racing with jealousy. And you didn't wanna admit but you were kind of hoping for this outcome when you had first got into the car.

He pulled down his sweatpants and you could see his cock bulging out of his boxers. His head fell back in pleasure as he pulled himself out, the tip an angry red as pre-cum was leaking out of it. Luke let out a groan as he gave himself a few pumps before he slid your underwear to the side.

Usually, Luke was patient enough to stretch you out with his fingers but not tonight; he just needed to fuck you dumb, til your legs were shaking the only thing playing in your was him.

He leaned forward so he could pull you into a needy kiss before he slid his cock inside of you slowly. His kiss was sloppy as you let out a moan into it as he slowly bottomed you out. You felt the burn, Luke was pretty big and the lack of prep added some pain but you knew it would dissipate.

"Ah, fuck." Luke moaned into the kiss before he pulled away. He bottomed you out pretty quickly, you were so wet that he just slipped right in. "Fuck, baby. You feel so fucking good."

You whimpered in response before Luke slid his hands up to your neck, holding you tightly before he began thrusting in and out. His other hand was planted right on your hips, his grip firm. Your eyes rolled in the back of your head as you arched your back in response, the previous mentioned pain quickly turning into pleasure.

"You're mine," he grunted as he quickened his pace. He pulled your legs all the way to rest on his broad shoulders, fucking you from a new angle.

He was hitting in all the right spots, you could barely see straight. All that was coming out of your mouth were moans and unintelligible strings of praises and curses.

"Feel so fucking good, Jesus." Luke felt himself slip, your pussy felt so good and knowing that you were only for him, that he was the only one who's ever been this deep inside of you, made his knees weak. "Ah, fuck baby."

He began fucking you into the backseat, harsher and rougher than before. You couldn't even think straight anymore, your cries louder and your legs shaking as he did. Luke felt like he was on cloud 9, you were squeezing him so good and you were so perfectly made for him, not to mention how fucking beautiful you looked; your eyes closed, your head back, your face sweaty and your mouth slightly open as you took him ─

God, he was so fucking close. He closed his eyes because he knew if he kept looking at you, he'd cum. Luke held you down by your neck as he brought down his fingers to rub on your clit harshly and before neither of you knew it, your orgasm hit you like a truck.

Your cunt tightened against him, he let out a loud groan as he head fell back. A few more deep, messy and harsh thrusts and he was spilling inside of you. He fell on top of your heaving chest, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

Your fingers found his curls and you began to run your hands through them. Sure, it'd make them all frizzy but you knew it made Luke relax. The whole car was fogged up, making your lips curve up into a lazy smile.

With a gentle sigh, you pressed a warm kiss to the crown of Luke's head, relishing in the quiet intimacy of the moment. "I love you, I'm sorry-"

"No." He interjected, finally sitting up so he could face you entirely. "I'm sorry for... being all being all possessive and jealous back there. It's not fair to you, especially when you've done nothing wrong."

You reached out to gently cup his cheek, your thumb brushing against his stubbled jawline. "It's okay, Luke," you reassured him, your voice soft. "If I'm being honest, it was kind of hot."

"Yeah, I figured." He smirk as gestured to your legs as you rolled your eyes in amusement.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling a warmth spread through you at the sight of his playful expression. "Yeah," you admitted, your voice tinged with a teasing tone. "I mean, it's nice to know you care so much."

Luke's smirk widened into a full-fledged grin, his eyes sparkling with desire. "If being jealous always ends in us fucking like that, then maybe I should do it more often." he quipped, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. You giggled as he did so, relaxing in his touch.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nhl imagine #nhl #nhl fic #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #luke hughes smut #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes #luke hughes fanfiction #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes imagines #nj devils imagine #njd #nj devils #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils #n

[queers-gambit]

Simple, Easy, Effortless

prompt: ( requested ) from across the dance floor, Felix locks eyes with you and is instantly smitten. is it love at first sight? lust? he's determined to know.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.1k+

note: this man is a SLUT but i'm sluttier in theory

warnings: the ducklips in the gif, obviously cursing, sexual tension, "love at first sight", author def uses her own university roommate experiences for inspiration, Lord's name in vain, mention of illicit drug use. REMEMBER: don't run from cops unless with Felix - or absolutely necessary - or you KNOW you can get away.

song featured in the movie and request: Murder on the Dance Floor

Humid. Sweaty. Pulsing. Overpopulated.

All good adjectives to describe your first university party with your roommate, Polly Schwartz. She had already been to loads of parties already, probably more than her actual classes, but being as you were a "scholarship kid", you took your education much more seriously than she did. Perhaps being why you spent your weekends studying, and she spent hers getting drunk, sleeping with randoms constantly, and partying nearly every weekend. You didn't think there was anything wrong with her habts, in fact, you encouraged her to go out most of the time; but after midterms, you were burnt the fuck out and Polly recommended you have a night out with her.

When she needed it, you helped Polly study, and now, it was time for her to return the favor in her own area of expertise. Tonight's party was hosted in an off-campus flat, making you worry about the authorities being phoned, but Polly assured you that nearly the entire complex was composed of Oxford students and there was barely a threat of this party being busted.

The moment you stepped into the humid, sweaty, pulsing, overpopulated flat, a drink was shoved into your hand by a barely-standing boy with a nose ring. He was decently attractive, but the belch he let out made you grimace and follow after Polly. He might've yelled something after your retreating form, but who could tell with the noise level?

"You need to loosen up, bitch! Jesus Christ, you're as stiff as a board, and trust me! No guy is gonna wanna approach you!" She laughed, missing your protest that you didn't care for male attention. "Wait," she gasped, "where'd you get that?"

"Uh, that lad over there," you pointed, blinking in mild shock when she snatched the drink from your hand and poured it out in a dying houseplant.

"I thought you were the brains of us," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Never accept a drink you didn't see being made! That's how you get drugged!"

"I'm not sure how this is supposed to work, Polly, for fuck's sake," you whined, hugging your arms as you gazed around nervously. "Maybe I should just go back to the dorms, this isn't really my scene - "

"Nope, you're staying," she shook her head, leading you by the hand to the kitchen. "Here - hang on, I'll get us something. Farleigh, my love!"

The handsome lad with a head full of fluffed coils turned with a small glare, but softened when he noted Polly's appearance. "There you are! I was wondering when you'd get here, darling!"

She giggled obnoxiously and you understood, this must've been the lad she was seeing on-and-off for the whole semester. "Well, I finally got this one out of the library, so we're a little late for a reason," she laughed, pointing her thumb back at you and making the boy eye you with judgement.

You gave a small wave, and he instantly offered his hand, introducing himself as, "Farleigh." After giving him your name, Polly was insisting you both needed a drink and Farleigh was nodding in agreement. "Here, drinks are this way - but it's self serve."

"Nobody made juice?" Polly pouted, the three of you approaching a decent-sized table that was full of bottles of liquor and mixers.

"Not this time," Farleigh laughed, and you let Polly make your drink because you were busy trying not to get run over by the other party goers.

"Christ Almighty, surely the floors will cave in with this many people?" You frowned when another drunk bumped into you and sloppily apologized.

"Only if we're lucky," Farleigh laughed. He directed at Polly, "Oh, remember Stephen's party? Donovan put a hole through the wall!"

Polly laughed as she handed you a fresh drink and all but ignored you in favor of this boy that was tapping a bit of suspicious powder onto his hand. Your eyes rolled and you turned away from them, slowly stalking around the room and taking in the scene - hating the way your ears felt as if they were bleeding from the terrible music selection.

But after you skulled your drink, you ran into a few classmates from your anthropology class. "Here, you can have this," Chelsea took the drink from Cara, "she's had way too much already."

You figured this exchange was safe enough after seeing Cara taking several gulps; not even noticing her hands were empty because she was dancing to the floor-shaking music in a daze.

"Who're you here with?" Pablo asked, bobbing his head to the beat. "We all came as a group, don't tell me you're alone!?"

"No, no, love, I came with Polly," you shrugged, feeling looser than when you first got there.

"Ew," Pablo rolled his eyes, the other girl snickering.

"Wait, what? What am I missing?" You asked with a small whine.

"Polly Harrington?" He asked, watching you nod. "Yeah, no, your li'l friend's the one who sucked off Professor Lorde."

"What?" You gaped.

"Why do you think she's here?" He gossiped. "Surely, not for her grades."

You just shook your head, "Maybe we shouldn't throw stones, it's rude to speak about others behind their backs."

"Doll face, it's not like it's a secret," Pablo laughed, nodding at your drink. "C'mon, bottoms up, buttercup, we've gotta get you dancing. You look way too cute to be a wallflower all night, c'mon, let's go! Chug! Chug!"

You gingerly took a gulp, but Pablo and Chelsea were encouraging you to just finish it off. When you did, they cheered with pride, laughing when you began giggling, "That's the worst taste! God!"

"Oh, sweetie, we don't drink for the taste, we drink to make us better dancers!" Chelsea beamed. "Want mine?"

"No, no - "

"Down it!"

You shrugged, inhibitions already significantly lowered, and with ease, finished your third drink. "I should get us more!" Pablo laughed.

"You do that, we're gonna dance!" Your friend waved him off, snatching your hand, and leading you to the dance floor. It was hard to distinguish where it was since there was wall-to-wall college kids stuffing the place, but you weaseled your way between people and let the alcohol take control. "Hey! By the way!" Chelsea spoke in your ear, "You look really hot! I adore this skirt!"

"Me? Babe, look at you! Can I borrow this dress?"

"Only if I can borrow those shoes!" She squealed.

You giggled and took her hand, spinning her around before joining together again. When Pablo rejoined, he handed you both a drink before jumping in front of you, throwing his reasonably fat arse back into your crotch - which forced you back onto your girlfriend in a dancing train. You three cheered through your laughter, smacking the lad's bottom playfully as he put his heart and soul into his dance; hands on his knees and hips bouncing.

However, Pablo only pulled away when Farleigh reappeared and stole him away to a darkening corner; only briefly making you wonder where he had left your roommate. You looked at Chelsea, who giggled in your ear, "They've been fucking recently. Pablo's whipped."

"I don't blame him," you mused. Cara had stumbled closer to you two, throwing her skinny arms around your neck and starting on a drunken ramble about how much she loved you - despite only sharing the one class together and knowing each other from a distance. Still, you appreciated the sentiment and let yourself feel loved; taking a sip from the plastic solo cup in hand and swinging your hips to the pulsing beat. In that moment, you just happened to look up, gasping, "There's a stripper pole!?"

"Go get on it!" Cara laughed. "Oh, wait, Felix is on it - oh, shit, Felix!"

"Who?" You asked.

"Felix, you know!? Felix Catton? Felix fucking Catton!" Cara blinked, then offered you an incredulous look and turned to Chelsea. "She doesn't know Felix?"

She waved Cara off, instead explaining to you, "He's that tall lad, in the white button up."

When you looked, Felix happened to glance over and your eyes connected. You were absolutely done for.

"Oh, yeah, she knows Felix now!" Cara giggled loudly. "Go! Go talk to him!" She encouraged, making your eyes bug widely.

"What?" You looked at the two girls, shaking your head, "No, no, I don't even know him!"

"Babes, 75% of the people you see paired up right now didn't know each other before this party!" Cara rolled her pretty eyes. "But hey, if you don't, India definitely will. Girl basically lives on his cock, it's decently pathetic - but just look at him! God took his time with Felix!"

"Oh, are they dating?" You asked innocently, looking back over to the tall boy in a white, linen button up. He grinned at you from the short distance.

"No," Chelsea laughed, seeing the way you two just stared and smiled softly. "Here, finish your drink and let the liquid courage do its job!"

"It's literally my first party," you laughed, "I'm not interested - "

"Oh, fuck off! Everyone's interested in Felix," Cara interrupted. "And I do mean, literally everyone."

"I can understand why," you mused, taking a long pull from your cup. "Cara, that lad, there, has been staring at you," you distracted, her swinging around instantly and thanking you before dancing over to the boy leaning on the wall.

He smirked when she reached him.

"She's a social butterfly," her roommate, Chelsea, giggled. "Do you need a refill?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm okay!"

"Okay, don't go too far - I'll be right back!" She grinned, knowing something you didn't, and disappearing into the thick crowd.

You swallowed another drink before you felt a hand on your waist, making you jump in surprise and turn. Before you towered the object of seemingly everyone's desires: Felix Catton.

"Haven't seen you around before," he spoke in your ear over the music.

"Oh, first timer," you nodded back.

"Doin' all right? Yeah? Havin' fun?"

You agreed, "Yeah, 'course. This your party?"

"No, no, uh," he glanced around the heads of students, "honestly, I'm not really sure who's flat this is."

"Oh, well, I guess as long as it's not damaged, it doesn't matter much, right?"

"Exactly," he smirked, offering his cup to yours. You clinked them together, both taking the obligatory sip, and swaying unconsciously to the music. "Who're you here with?"

"Polly - "

"Oh, Christ, yeah! Yeah, you're, uh, you're her roommate?"

You nodded, "You know her?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Oh," you frowned in discomfort, brows pinched.

"No, no, I just meant, she's popular, innit she? Not that - that she's sucked me off or anything like that!"

You laughed, "Wasn't thinking that, but good to know."

His cheeks flared a bright red, "That was a bit brash of me, wasn't it? Sorry, love, I should know better than to use such vocabulary with a pretty lady."

Your eyes rolled, "This 'pretty lady' has both heard and used much worse vernacular."

Felix slowly grinned, "You want a smoke?"

"Dying for one actually, yeah."

"This way, c'mon," he offered his free hand, and without thinking, you accepted and let the tall, slender lad lead you through the crowd. All of a sudden, you felt as if every eye was on you - watching, stalking, clocking you like predator does prey. You were directed to a balcony, a few lingering smokers standing around.

The moment the glass door slid shut, the music was semi-silenced and you breathed in slight relief. "Christ, 's always this loud?" You asked, leaning on the railing beside your companion while rubbing an ear to relieve the ringing sensation.

"Usually, yeah," he smirked, handing you a cigarette before placing one between his lips.

"You looked real natural on that pole," you teased, leaning in when he flicked a lighter to life.

"Oh, God," he laughed, watching you inhale. "Saw that, did you?"

You hummed, holding the smoke in your lungs, "Kinda hard t'miss. You were really into it."

He shrugged, lighting the end of his own nicotine filled stick. Upon exhale, he eased, "Was a really good song, wasn't it? Easy t'dance to, you know?"

"Hm," you nodded, "actually, I wouldn't know - I don't know half these songs."

"You livin' under a rock, love?"

"No, just with my nose in a book."

"Smart girl, are yah?"

"I would hope so, considering my scholarship."

"Even more impressive," he grinned. "You know Oliver, then? Oliver Quick? He's on scholarship, too."

"No, not quite, us scholarship kids don't all know one another," you shot back with a smirk.

"Fair enough," he agreed, eyeing you up and down. "So, why tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"Why come tonight?"

"Polly thought I could use a little stress relief," you answered, taking a long puff. "Not exactly the way I saw my night going, though."

"How's that?"

"Look at you!" You laughed. "Of all the ladies here, you danced your way over to me? Now you're having a conversation instead of working that pole?"

"I like to think that I just had to introduce myself to the prettiest lass in the whole joint," he flirted.

"And yet," you inhaled, "you've haven't made introductions."

"No? I haven't?" He smirked, watching your head shake. "Apologies, love. I'm Felix, uh, Felix Catton," he offered his hand, and when you shook it, you told him your own full name. "Now that that's outta the way," he took his own inhale, "how's about we go dance?"

"Oh, I might need to finish this drink before all that," you lifted your cup to your lips.

"Nah, I saw you earlier," he chuckled, stomping his cigarette out under his boot. "C'mon, love, not letting you get outta here without at least one dance."

"Surely, India would be a better option?"

He scoffed, "Oh? And how would you know that?"

"Chelsea and Cara might've made mention earlier. I wouldn't want to steal someone's man - girl code, and that shit."

For whatever reason, this made Felix snicker, "No, no, you've got it wrong, India and I are just friends."

"That's what guys say when they're sleeping with their 'friend'."

"Either way, she's not my girl," he smirked. "C'mon, love, one dance. If you're not convinced after that, I'll let yah go - no fuss."

"Oh, well, that doesn't sound remotely creepy," you laughed, dropping your own cigarette and stomping it out. "All right, yeah, one dance."

"Just one."

"A single dance."

"No more, but no less," he smirked, lacing your fingers together when you laid your hand in his. "Deal?"

You nodded, feeling absolutely giddy by his attention. When you reentered the party, it was almost as if it had grown in population, and suddenly, you wanted to be back on the balcony just to breathe. But Felix had a secure hold on you, and after downing the last of your drink, you set the cup on a random end table you passed before taking position on the "dance floor".

What you absolutely did not anticipate was that Felix wasn't the best dancer, but holy shit, did he not care; letting go and having fun. You let the alcohol in your system propel you, and soon, one dance turned into two, and two turned to three. It was like nobody else was there, it was just you and Felix; dancing like fools, letting your hair down, and you actually found yourself enjoying the music that vibrated the entire flat.

The song that played wasn't one you recognized, but the lyrics felt strangely appropriate for your current situation. Though there was no groove to be killed, no moves to steal, and no murdering on this dance floor, there was a whole lotta tension that fueled your movements together.

"Oh, oh, here we go, c'mon!" He laughed, tugging your hand after him to approach the stripper pole the flat's owner had installed. "Go on, love, show me how it's done!"

"Oh, fuck no!" You barked in laughter. "You're the master, let me take notes."

"I'll warn you, once you see my moves up close," he planted a hand on the pole and swung around it once, "you won't be able to resist!"

You waved him on, eyes widening when he danced around the pole as if nobody was watching, but in reality, he had an entire audience. Not that you noticed, you were solely focused on the boy putting on a show for you; both wearing goofy grins. When he got REALLY into it, you had to admit your stomach knotted in attraction when his lips pushed into a slutty pout. Never had you wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life before, but it increased ten fold when he swung around and grabbed onto your waist; effortlessly pushing you onto the pole as he released it.

"C'mon, then!" He beamed, watching you stand for a single awkward moment before figuring, why the hell not?

So, you swung yourself around before shocking Felix to his bloody core by holding the pole and grinding down it - giving a teasing peek at your panties when your legs spread slightly to accommodate your dance moves. His jaw slackened, eyes raked up and down your form, lips pulling in a smirk the longer he watched you go. Your hair flung around, hips gyrated in movements that made his pants tighten, and when he couldn't stand it any longer, he caught you in another swing.

Hips against yours, arms around one another, he danced you back onto the crowded floor; a hand raising to caress the side of your face as if he was mesmerized by all you were, all you are.

It was so simple to lose yourself in his dancing, in his scent, in his aurora. It was so easy to move against him. It was so simple to exist with Felix fucking Catton.

He was intoxicating, making you feel more drunk on him than the alcohol you had ingested. And while the moment felt serious, once you were surrounded by peers again, you melted into a sense of silliness. Any care you had, any worry - it all melted away, it evaporated, got swept under the rug because Felix commandeered your entire attention.

From the side of the room, Cara and Chelsea squealed in excitement for you, high-fiving when they noted India's jealous glare. Farleigh and Pablo even snickered, wondering how long it would take for Felix's charm to get you into bed; a bet being placed between the two lads before taking another bump of cocaine that distracted them for the rest of the time.

On the dance floor, your laughter was genuine and a little loud when he swung you around before dying in your throat when he pulled you in close. Again, the party melted away and it was just you and Felix; his hands on your hips, head bowed to corral you close, his warm brown eyes intense as they flitted between your eyes and lips.

You knew what he wanted, but didn't want to give into temptation yet. Keeping an air of mystery, you smiled coyly and pushed back slightly - but he was yanking you right back in.

When a friend of his came around with a tray full of shots, his arm coiled around your waist tightly to keep you anchored as he accepted the Jell-O concoction. You still buzzed from your earlier drinks and nicotine, bobbing and humming to the song playing, Felix instantly moving with you.

And just like you worried earlier, from deep in the party, someone shouted, "IT'S THE FUZZ! GO! SCATTER!"

"Oh, shit! Oh, my God!" You gasped in worry, the music cutting and students rushing for the exit.

"C'mere, c'mere, 's all right," Felix rushed, pulling you back into a wall to let the stampede rush around you as he planted you in front of him. Your hands held his waist, watching those around you run away, and when you looked up, Felix was already staring at you.

The moment your eyes met, you both snickered in amusement before bursting into full-on laughter. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" You mused, leaning your forehead to his pectoral. "I knew it - of course my first party is busted, hey?"

"Just makes it all the more memorable, yeah?"

"You were doing a pretty good job on your own with that," you met his gaze again - feeling coy and playful.

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Well, I try."

"I think you succeed."

He opened his mouth to respond, caressing your cheek, but someone else shouted, "GO, GO, GO! Felix, c'mon, mate! The fuck you doin'! We gotta go! I can't get another citation!"

"Let's go," he told you instead, lacing your hands together again and joining the last of the stream filtering out of the flat.

"Where're we - "

"This way, trust me," he dodged down a separate hallway, a few others following his lead. Down a flight of stairs, turning down another hall, and you two were bursting into the chilly night air.

The lights of the copper's cars flashed from around the building and you realized you were at the back. Others were rushing from the door, scattering into the night, but Felix just leaned on the brownstone and waited, checking your surroundings.

"What now?" You worried, panting lightly from the rush of adrenaline.

"We go that way," he nodded, "walk slow and calm, we don't know shit about a party. We're just walking back to campus, yeah?"

"Oh, like that'll work," you snickered, but again, laced your hands together. "On your lead, my lord," you joked.

"That make you my lady?"

"Hm, nah," you refused with a smirk, "I don't do well with sharing and you seem to be well liked, aren't yah?"

He hummed, letting go of your hand to toss his arm around your neck, still subtly checking around you for any police officers. Your arm latched around his waist, reaching up to hold the hand dangling from your shoulders. "I might be well liked, but for you, I'd drop everyone," he flirted easily - as if second nature, as if he didn't even have to think about the words that oozed out of that slick mouth.

"Oh, how flattering."

"I would hope so," he breathed, leading you out of the back garden. "Swear, love, never been so caught-up before. Just saw you and had t'come talk - had t'know who you are. I mean, just look at'cha, sweetheart, can you really blame me?"

"That line usually works, does it?"

"More often than not," he laughed, you joining in as you slipped from the back gate.

"HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE! STOP!"

"Oh, shit," Felix gasped, snatching your hand in an instant as two officers started to clumsily rush towards you two.

"What do we - "

"Run!" He laughed, yanking you after him.

"Felix!"

"HEY! STOP! STOP! COME BACK HERE!"

You couldn't stop laughing as you both sprinted down the street and around an alley, taking three more turns before coming to a panting halt; pausing to listen.

"Hear 'em?" He whispered, keeping you on the inside so he could peer down the alley you had escaped down.

"No...?"

"I don't either," he nodded, glancing down at you and chuckling. "You're fast, you on the track team?"

"Oh, please, you should be fast when running from the law, shouldn't you?"

"Knew I liked you," he barked in humor. "C'mon, love, 's a nice night, innit it?"

"Nice night for what? Breaking laws?"

"Well, yeah, but I meant for a walk," he mused, walking backwards, snagging both your hands in his to pull you off the wall you were hiding behind. "It's a bit of a hike back to campus, might as well make the most of it," he smiled, turning to keep pace beside you with his arm around your waist. "Not every night I get t'walk in the moonlight with a beautiful lass."

You pulled his arm up to your shoulders again, holding his waist comfortably, and being as you weren't familiar with the area, trusting him to lead you back. After a beat, you admitted in a sigh, "You know, tonight wasn't what I expected and yet, it's exactly what I thought."

"Was it better or worse than you could've planned?"

You laughed, "Well, running from the cops wasn't on my bingo card."

"How's it feel? 'T be such a bad girl?"

"You tell me."

Felix laughed, "Ah, love, not my first time, but it's just as exhilarating."

"Jesus," you rolled your eyes in humor. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear, you having other run-ins with officers."

"Oh, you like it!"

"I might," you agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk of a main street. "Oh, shit, oh, my God!" You halted, looking nervous and frantic. "I left Polly! Fuck!"

"Nah, nah, nah, don't worry, love, I saw her leave earlier while we were dancing."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, she left with Johnny."

"Who the fuck is Johnny?"

He grinned, "Yeah, that's it, you're hanging with me from now on. We'll get you aquatinted with your classmates, yeah?"

"Maybe I have no want nor need to know people," you spoke softly. "I'm here for an education, not t’socialize."

"Doesn't hurt though, does it?"

"After tonight? I don't know if you can make that case."

"You seriously telling me you didn't have fun? Oh, sweetheart, that hurts. I'm hurt, honestly," he pouted dramatically, free hand to his heart; glittering gold ring winking at you under the street lamps.

"What's that?" You asked, alcohol making you easily distracted. He glanced at his hand and held it out for you, showing his ring. "What's the design? It's real pretty - didn't think I'd see it on a guy."

He chuckled, "Ah, it's a signet - my family's signet, actually."

"Jesus, I knew it," you groaned. "No way you were just a regular somebody! A bloody signet? What? Related t'the Queen, are yah?"

"No, not exactly," he snorted. "But my father is knighted..."

"Holy shit," you blinked. "What's that like?"

He looked down at you, brows slowly furrowing, "You really wanna know? Most people just, I don't know, kinda assume I'm rich and that's all there is to my life."

You felt a single pang of empathy, smiling up at him, "I really wanna know, Felix. C'mon, what's your family do? Both parents still alive? They still married? Where's home?"

For the entire walk back to campus, you and Felix talked as if old friends. Sure, you were getting to know each other, but it felt as if you'd known one another for ages by how easy it was to talk to him. And he seemed enthralled by your questions; wondering about his life, not just the pretty face he bore. Not just the money to his name. You seemed genuinely curious as to who "Felix Catton" was... Something he hadn't known his entire time at Oxford.

When you got back to your dorm, you felt sad by the idea of parting ways, something that genuinely shocked you. Yet the obscene sounds from behind the thin, wooden door alerted you to Polly and her guest, making you pause and sigh. "Well, that's awkward," you mused, leaning on the opposite wall. "Uh, thanks for walking me back, but I'm just gonna crash in the common room."

"Oh, bollocks to that, love," he shook his head, offering his hand again. "C'mon, you can crash with me."

"Hm, sounds sketchy."

"Oh? How's that?" He laughed.

"We just met!"

"C'mon, sweetheart, it's just a bed t'sleep in. Promise, nothing's gonna happen - even if you beg."

"Oh, what a gentleman," you laughed, much to his amusement. "All right, yeah... If I can borrow something to sleep in? Not entirely comfortable sleepin' in this..."

"I've gotcha," he nodded, leading you from your dorm and to his. Which, to your surprise, was the housing beside your own.

"Oh, Felix, NO!" You gaped when you entered his room. "Oh, darling, no, no, no, what's this?"

"It's not that bad - "

"No, I'm talking that!" You laughed, not phased by the mess, pointing to the Manchester football flag. "Don't tell me - "

"Nah, hey, don't do that, 's my father's team," he chuckled. "It reminds me to watch, gives us something t'talk about..."

You cooed, "Well, that's actually sweet of you. I guess I can let it slide."

"Oh, you're a saint."

He tossed you clean boxers and a tee shirt, letting you change in the adjoining restroom as he quickly changed in the bedroom. When you joined him again, you both got comfortable on the bed, but sleep evaded you... Leading into a long night of chatter, jokes, and establishing friendship that would eventually turn romantic.

But for that night, it was simple. It was easy. It was effortless.

You both crashed around 4 am, and when you woke the following afternoon, your head was on his chest, his arm tight around your waist, and there wasn't a single concern in your heart or head.

"Jesus, fuck," Felix groaned when he woke, tightening his arm to constrict you against his warm body on the teeny, tiny dorm bed. "Ah, Christ, remind me not t'drink again, yeah, love?"

"You and me, both," you grumbled, nestling closer.

He sighed, "Yah hungry?"

"A bit."

"Wanna go t'yours, change, get something t'eat?" He offered, rubbing your waist. "C'mon, my treat."

You lifted your head to check his bedside clock, grunting as you laid back down, "It's past noon."

"So? Stomachs don't open or close."

You let your chin prop on his chest, smiling, "Food sounds nice."

He nodded, eyes once more dancing between yours. "Know, you look real good in my clothes. Might have t'let you keep it."

"Much appreciated, pretty boy. C'mon, food helps with the hangover, doesn't it?"

"Very much," he nodded, reaching for his cigarettes. "Hmm?" He offered.

"Mhm," you accepted, both settling on your backs, but he pulled you in close to light your stick. "You always like this?" You whispered, smoking swirling in the air above you.

"What's that?"

"Charismatic?"

"Ah, if I could turn it off... Well, bein' honest, I wouldn't."

"Oh, shove off," you both laughed lightly at your words, looking up at him. He seemed ethereal in the morning light, and then - it happened. He set his cigarette to an ashtray to free his hand, caressing your cheek and making you go still.

"Would you think less of me if I kiss you?"

"I'd think less if you didn't, I think..."

He smirked and curled over, lips finding yours in a searing, breathtaking kiss that tasted like the previous night's alcohol. Yet he still tasted so pleasantly spicy and unique, making you inhale sharply and hold onto the back of his neck to keep him close. He hummed lightly, tongues swirling like the smoke that still hung in the air, and when he pulled back, again, you both just laughed lightly before he was swooping in for another kiss.

It was like I said... Simple, easy, effortless.

requesting rules and masterlist

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[pizzapottah]

runaway

summary: you and james grew up together, being best friends since childhood, but after you get sorted into slytherin in your first year at hogwarts, it was only a matter of time until it all crumbled down.

pairing: james potter x slytherin!slughorn!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3.6k

warnings: like two swear words, sirius and regulus' feud (they're both menaces), kinda mean james, sirius' a dick too, THEY'RE ALL DICKS BUT REMUS YOUR HONOR, a bit angsty

author's note: inspired by runaway by kanye west (don't worry, there'll be homecoming too). slughorn as granpa is going to have a bigger role on the second part i swear (i love granpas and he woud be so sweet) i swear the timeline piece for young love is coming. i don't know when but i'm trying ;-;

runaway | homecoming

To Sirius, it looked a bit obvious that you and James had somewhat of a history. 

They were just in their second year, and as soon as “BLACK, REGULUS” is called and gets put to Slytherin, he turns to his friend, about to start a bashing on his brother's House. “What did I tell you? Of course he would be put there. A little snake, he is, tried to drown me in the bathtub when he was five, Merlin knows what he will be capable of now…”

But as another name gets called to the Hat, James looks like he isn't listening. And as Sirius goes on, stubborn, the boy puts a hand on his mouth. “Shush, I wanna hear.”

Well, that's surely something new. Prongs wanting to listen? That has to be the news of the decade. So Sirius tries to hold back his wounded ego and looks at the chair where the students sit, one by one, to be sorted. There's a girl sitting on it, and as the Hat takes a moment to debate with himself for where to put her, James looks at the girl like she holds on her shoulders the sky and the stars. 

Sirius doesn't really understand - right now he just thinks that yes, she’s pretty, but not that pretty to break his neck just to look at her. (In a few years time, he’ll realise that it’s not because she’s not that pretty. It’s just because he doesn’t really like girls - and maybe, just maybe, at that time he had an itty bitty crush on his friend, but was too young and oblivious to know.) 

James stares dreamily at the girl. “She's the daughter of my neighbours - the girl I grew up with, remember? I told you about her.”

No, Sirius actually doesn’t remember her, but he stares at her and the Hat, waiting for the sorting. “Why is it taking so long? It never takes that long.” At this point he’s just trying to go on like nothing happened, like James didn’t just shut him up to stare at a girl - what happened to the bro code?

“The Hat’s probably settling between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor,” his friend tells him. “To Gryffindor because, well, I'm here, but also to Ravenclaw because she’s so smart- oh, Sirius, when she gets put here, you’ll have to move- could you give your seat to her?”

Sirius stares at him with his mouth open. In front of them, Peter and Remus assume the same horrified face of their friend - James Potter asking Sirius Black to give up his seat beside him? They’re not even sure if they ever saw them sitting apart. The latter seems horrified at the thought of his best friend asking him to move.

And before Sirius can start shouting mouthfuls of insults that a twelve year old surely shouldn’t know, the Hat declares his sentence. “SLYTHERIN!”

A sudden relief fills Sirius. Oh, thank Merlin. James, unlike him, looks outraged and is probably about to have an aneurysm. “WHAT?” he shouts, his protests unheard as the Slytherins claps fill the room as you go sit at their table. “I demand another sorting! The Hat’s broken!”

Professor McGonagall takes no more than a few seconds to shut him up, opting to use magic instead of discussing with a twelve year old with a too-big ego, and James has to sit still, almost chained to the table, for the whole evening, not muttering a single word. Sirius looks at him smugly, silently thinking that he deserves that for even thinking about putting a girl before him, as he glares at her and his brother quietly chatting on the green and silver table.

You don’t exactly remember when you and James Potter actually became friends.

You know your dads went to school together, his in Gryffindor and yours in Slytherin, and your family's cottage and the Potter's farmhouse being only a flower field away, for most of your childhood you were each other’s only friend. But as you grew up and he went to Hogwarts, merely a year before you, you two drifted apart.

It wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. James was a year older than you, already growing faster, and probably needed more friends than just you - not that he had difficulties at that. He was an enthusiast, and put his heart in everything he ever did. During the summer he told you about his new friends - and the strange nicknames they’d given each other - and expressed his excitement over you meeting them.

It all went downhill when you got sorted to Slytherin.

For you, or your family, it wasn’t a big deal. Slytherin is a Hogwarts House as much as any of the others, and many of your family members are Slytherins. But as for you it’s not a problem, James surely doesn’t think of it like you do, and makes no effort to hide it from you. 

(In the first weeks of school, a rumour that he had tried to protest to professor McGonagall and even Dumbledore about your sorting spread around. You just hope it was a bad joke.)

More times than you’d like to admit he has complained about your friends, saying that you should just stick to staying around him and his friends. 

“Yeah, and then what?" You’d say, getting angry. “Spend six hours of lessons alone, not talking to anyone? Spending all my time at the dormitories by staying silent? If you found some friends, why can’t I? You’re not my mother, you can't tell me what to do!”

“It's because they’re bad for you!”

“Oh, so you mean to tell me that Regulus is worse than Sirius?” you’re not sure if he has seen the way Sirius treats you - like a rival, a nuisance that he has to endure until he manages to get rid of it. Just yesterday, when you were by the Black Lake, he made you trip by the river and almost fall in the water. When you confronted him about it, he shrugged it off, blaming your bad balance. James did nothing about it - not that it is his place to discipline his friend, but if he tries to scare off all your friends just to make you stay with his, assuring himself that he treats you decently is the least he could do.

It’s no secret that you and Sirius don’t get along, and as now he’s apparently James' best friend, it’s a problem. Sirius despises you because you’re friends with his brother - who, by the way, never speaks ill of him - and you despise him for the way he treats you. You wouldn’t have anything to do with him if it wasn’t for James insisting on you spending so much time with his friends. 

Peter? Sure, nice guy. Remus? Your favourite. But Sirius? He’s hated you even before you even met, you’re certain. It’s like you were made for hating each other.

But at this time, it’s still just the first year. You and James are both just kids who love each other very much, and surely none of you is ready to give up on the other. Somehow you compromise - you stay with your friends, James stays with his, and you try to avoid the Marauders, especially when you're with Regulus. Him, in fact, is even angrier about the whole situation than you.

“I can't believe it,” he said, once. “He's bashing you for befriending me and a couple of other Slytherins? Sirius goes around the school saying I'm not his brother and that our parents found me in a dumpster. I think it’s him who should revise his priorities.” 

Sure, your friends and his friends hate each other, but for your first year at Hogwarts, the friendship with James somehow remains intact. So by the time summer break comes, it’s like you never argued at school and never grew up from the kids you used to be, spending all your time in the field between your houses and constantly having sleepovers. 

It all comes crashing down in your second year. 

You befriend Severus Snape, a guy in James’ year, while the latter falls head over heels for Lily Evans. The arguments get more heated and frequent, you both just getting mad at each other over nothing, and it’s like all the time you spent together in the damn field is forgotten. 

“Why him, but not my friends?” is a frequent question he asks, worried about you, since Severus wasn’t one of the people he wanted to be around you. 

“Well, go ask Sirius, James!” you would always reply, getting meaner every time this question was asked. Now, basically every time you see each other, you argue, him too proud to admit his wrongs, you too stubborn to give in. 

And, one day, you’ve simply had enough. There’s no energy left in you, and it’s like you’re the only one caring about your friendship, fighting for it. So, since the only times you and James interact it’s for arguing, you start ignoring him. You ignore him when he tries to talk to you during breaks, you ignore him when he greets you in the hallway between classes, you ignore him when he tries to start an argument again.

Soon, the only signs of recognition he gets are from your friends, who send him dirty looks every time they see him. 

James honestly feels even more enraged than before, sure that it’s them who are conditioning you - especially Severus, who never liked him or any of the Marauders, always staring at him up and down like they were superior to him. 

“I think Snivellus’ putting strange ideas in her head,” James announces to the other Marauders one evening, while they’re all huddled in their room. Sirius huffs dramatically as Remus sighs, while Peter just frowns. 

“You have to let her go,” Sirius insists, never having liked you. You’ve never actually done him any wrong, but your House and the fact that you’re dangerously close to James are enough for him. “If she’s ignoring you, that’s her loss, ‘innit? She loses the only good friend she has. Once my brother and the other Slytherins get bored of her, she’ll be alone and will come crawling back.”

Remus and Peter stare at him with their mouths open. “Sirius, that’s horrible,” Lupin says, shocked. He turns to James, not understanding all of this drama, “Why can’t you just accept that she’s made new friends aside from you? Can’t you just be happy for her? Is it that hard?”

James crosses his arms. Right now, he looks like a spoiled kid who’s used to having everyone at his mercy. “I can’t be happy for her knowing what horrible people she is friends with,” he grumbles. Sirius nods, agreeing. “Just leave her alone and give her time to understand her mistake. And once she does, it’ll be too late.”

So he did, leave you alone. Stopped saying hi to you, hoping that like Sirius predicted, you’d come back - except it could never be too late for you. James is sure he’d welcome you back a thousand times, if necessary, even if Sirius is sure that you should learn your lesson by him never talking to you again. 

A week passes, then two, then a month’s passed and you only seem happier, always surrounded by a big group of friends, who now consist of some Ravenclaws, too. They stop glaring at him, finally, but Regulus doesn’t look like he’s going to stab you in your back at any given moment. You two look closer, even.

And when the summer break finally arrives, James thinks that maybe, now that your friends aren’t there to condition you, everything will go back to normal - it already happened last year, no?

Well, nothing goes back to normal.

You don’t show up at the Potter's saturday barbecue - your parents do, though, and say that you simply didn’t feel like coming. James is more than confused - you used to love coming to their barbecues. His confusion only strengthens when later that week he goes to your house to ask you if you want to come with him to take a swim by the lake, and he gets greeted by your apologetic mother, who simply tells him that you are at a friends’ house. 

Defeated, James goes back home, immediately writing a letter to Remus for advice - he’s learned not to name you in front of Sirius - and then slumps in bed, convinced that you’ve started to hate him.

It's monday. On mondays you always go to the lake together. Never missed a day since now.

But James doesn’t surrender. He isn’t ready to give up on this friendship yet. 

He goes to your house the next day - tuesday, usually you play Quidditch. Your mother probably pities him, at this point. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, she’s still at her friend’s house. Her name’s Pandora - a sweet girl from Ravenclaw, you surely know her. She's coming back next week, and the girl will stay with us for a while, too. Hasn’t my daughter told you about it? She probably just forgot.’’

James has actually never heard of this Pandora girl before, even if the name does sound familiar. He's hurt by the fact that you didn’t tell him you’d go away, even if it was for a week, but Remus’ reply to his letter is quick to snap him back to his senses. 

Dear Prongs,

Please, stop thinking that the poor girl is your property. Let her live her life. You don’t have to do everything together and she doesn’t owe you anything. Besides, I'd like to remind you that during the last months at school you two stopped arguing just because she started ignoring you, and you complied, instead of finding a sane solution. She was probably too exhausted to keep fighting with you, and thought that maybe not starting a conversation would be best. If you didn’t like that, you could’ve simply told her. 

In hope that you come to your senses,

Moony.

James' newly return to his senses doesn’t last long, though, as apparently, Remus told what happened to Sirius, too.

Dear Prongs, 

Let her stew in her own juice. You’ll do just fine without her. You still have me, Remus and Peter. Plus, it’s not that big of a loss. In your position, I would never talk to her again. 

Please listen to me, 

Padfoot. 

James is torn. Why are his friends like this? 

He ends up going to your house again, but this time he's sure that you're home and can't avoid talking to him. It's tuesday again, Quidditch again, so he brings his broom and all the equipment you'll need, in hope that you’ll just become friends again without a big fuss. It always was like that - in the past years, the ones before Hogwarts, you two rarely argued, and everything was forgiven without even saying sorry, not even the day after. A kiss on the cheek, two cookies and back to being friends like nothing ever happened.

(James hasn’t brought the entire jar of cookies that his mother just made. No, no, absolutely not. He would never try to bribe you like that, who do you take him for?)

Your father opens the door and forces himself to smile at the sight of Iames. It's kinda hard when he knows the kid has insulted the House he was in for almost two whole years now. “James,” he greets, rather formally than usual. “Good morning. How can I help you?” it is strange talking to a boy he’s seen grow up like this, but he can’t help the awkwardness, especially knowing how James made you feel.

“Is she home?” James doesn’t have to specify who, since he’s always come here for you.

“Well-” 

Before your father can articulate an actual sentence, a familiar voice comes from the hallway, “Who’s at the door, son?”

Your father shifts so that professor Slughorn can see James, clad in Quidditch uniform, looking smaller than he’s ever been. “Oh, it’s you, Potter! What a nice surprise! Why don’t you enter?” not sparing a look at your dad, who’s staring disappointedly at his own father, he welcomes the boy in. “I see you brought cookies! Is your dad home, perhaps? We’re making potions here, thought that maybe he would like to join…” 

In the living room there’s five people seated on the carpet: you, who James recognises immediately, Lily Evans - his heart skips a beat just by seeing her -, the girl who he barely recognises as Pandora and, to his absolute horror, Regulus Black and bloody Snivellus. You’re all seated in front of a cauldron each, and the potion inside them is the colour of an astonishing purple. You’re all laughing and chatting like nothing's wrong.

The fact that you would trade Quidditch tuesdays just to do extracurricular potion lessons with Snape makes him want to vomit. For Lily Evans? He understands, he would too, but Severus?

Once you all notice him, the room becomes silent. Professor Slughorn blinks, not understanding the sudden tension, remembering all the times you and the Potter boy would play outside in the garden with him watching over. He thought you were good friends - and you still are, right? 

You huff, getting up and taking him by the wrist. “Feel free to go on without me,” you say, “I'll walk him home.” 

“Hey, that’s not-” 

But it’s too late, since you’ve already passed by your father who just nods in an approving manner. You get to the door, and James thinks that never, never in almost thirteen years of friendship has he been thrown out of your house like this. You two always tried to spend the most time you could with each other, and when time to go arrived, it was not easily that his parents were able to bring him home. 

It's only when you’ve surpassed the porch that James is finally able to snap out of your grasp. “I don't need you to walk me home like I’m five!” he bursts. You don’t even blink, going for the flower field that sits between your houses, and he has to speed up to catch up to you. “Could you tell me what is going on?”

This time you frown, stopping. “What’s going on?” you ask in disbelief. Letting out a small laugh, you ask, louder, “What’s going on?”

James falters. “Yeah,” he breathes. “You’re not the same.”

He stares at you and for a moment, hoping it’s all a bad dream, because something tells him that this time you won’t go back to being friends thanks to some cookies and a kiss on the cheek. 

Your eye twitches. “I'm not the same,” you mutter. “What nonsense are you babbling about? James, I've tried my best to keep up with you, but I don't think I can do it anymore. At Hogwarts you treat me like I'm a pet, expecting me to do what you say, and when I rightfully don’t - because mind you, I am my own person! - you get mad at me saying I'm stupid!” 

You start walking towards the Potter's house again, letting out a frustrated groan. “I start ignoring you because I'm so tired of the fact that we’re constantly arguing about my friends - people I care about - and every time we talk we just end up fighting again!” you point your finger at him even before he opens his mouth to protest, “And don’t say that’s not true, Potter, it’s been months since we’ve had a decent conversation and now that we’re talking, we’re back to arguing again.”

James stops and suddenly thinks that holy shit, you’re right. He barely remembers the last time you’ve had a civil conversation that wasn’t a screaming match, or the last time he made you laugh or even barely smile. 

But pride is an ugly thing, and he isn’t ready to admit his faults - but is more than ready to point out yours. “So you do admit that you started ignoring me!”

You seem to lose it. “Yeah, douchebag!” you yell. “Don’t you get it? That's why we haven’t fought lately! That’s why we’ve been so peaceful! Because we didn’t talk!”

First James, then Potter, then douchebag. He's about to have a heart attack - he once was JJ and Jamie to you. “Maybe it’s best if we just… stop talking. Like, at all.” he murmurs, almost hoping that you will protest. It’s never really been him the one fighting for this friendship - since the Marauders entered the picture, it’s like he stopped fighting to maintain a good relationship with you, but started to fight to make it crumble to the ground. He’s realising it now, but it’s too late, and unlike him, you’re not that keen on letting him come back. 

Please, he thinks, don’t let me do this.

But instead of protesting, you spitefully murmur, “Yeah, I thought so.” 

And the same field that has seen you two grow up is seeing you two split up, probably for good. 

#harry potter fanfic #james potter #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #pizzapottah's writing #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #james potter x slytherin!readeer #james potter x y/n #marauders era fanfic #james potter x you #james potter imagine #marauders era

[peachsukii]

unbreakable bonds ꒰ no quirks au | childhood friends | friends to lovers ꒱ ⇢ a collective of family bonding and little moments between you and katsuki.

『♡』  k.bakugo x fem!reader ꒰ tags & content ꒱ emotional hurt/comfort, fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, happiness all around ⋆ ˚ʚɞ — just wanted to write something sickly sweet and it’s been sitting in my drafts forever. reader has a little sister that helps bond the two of you together over the years. cross posted to ao3 | word count; ~3kish? -`✧ katsuki bakugo masterlist

You were too young - a little over three - to understand the day your mom brought home your little sister. You'd been secretly asking the universe for a sibling, someone to share everything with. Ask and you shall receive! But, you never knew just how much she would shape your life into what it is today.

The Kingdom - Elementary School

Fourth grade is when you and Katsuki started to play after school together on a daily basis. Him and Izuku would come by and grab snacks from your mom while you went back to the park around the corner, playing pirates and super heroes with the other neighborhood kids. Every so often, your mom would ask for you to bring your sister along. You never minded, even though she was your baby sister in first grade. The boys would pick on her - lovingly, of course - to make her feel included with the rest of the pack. She loved being around you, cooing and giggling away as she'd hold your hand and squeal with delight.

One day at the park, she'd declared herself to be queen of the castle as she stood on the slide, proudly puffing out her chest with her hands on her hips.

"I am the queen, and what I say goes!" she pointed to you and Katsuki. "Sissy will be the princess and you will be our royal guard, Katsu!"

You chuckle. "Isn't the older sister supposed to be queen?"

She does her best impression of a royal laugh, projecting her voice theatrically. "Not in my land! It's my kingdom and if you don't like it, I'll send you to the brig!"

"You're confusin' pirates 'n princesses again,” Katsuki taunts playfully.

She stomps her foot on the slide. “Silence in my kingdom! Izu will be my knight!”

Katsuki pouts. “Hey! Why don’t I get to be the knight?!’

“Cause I say so! You’re the royal guard cause you’re tough. Izu is the knight because he’s brave!”

You can’t help but let out a loud ‘hah!’ at her comment. Your sister never failed to push Katsuki in the cutest ways - he probably was thankful to be an only child whenever you guys would go home for the day.

Katsuki huffs at her declaration, taking the challenge with stride. “Fine! I’ll show you who’s tough and be the best dang guard in the whole world.”

“Do I get a cool set of armor, queen?” Izuku asks, bouncing up and down at the bottom of the slide.

“Of course! Only the best armor and ponies for my royal kingdom.”

She sits and pushes herself down the metal slide, rocketing off the edge past Izuku and barreling toward Katsuki. She trucks into him at full force - but, being small, that force isn’t much for him to withstand.

“What the heck was that for?!” he yells while catching her before she hits the wood chips.

“A test of your toughness, Katsu! And you passed! You’re deserving of a spot in my kingdom,” she giggles, mashing his cheeks together with her tiny palms. He protests her closeness and tries to fight her off, setting her feet back on the ground while she’s wiggling in his hold. Watching the two of them act like siblings themselves always made you feel so warm and fuzzy inside, knowing your two closest friends also adored your sister as much as you did.

You meander over to grab her from him. “Alright, I think you made your point, queen. Your guard and knight have other duties to get to.”

She waves goodbye to the boys over her shoulder as the two of you stroll home for dinner. She gleefully remarks how cool they are and that she can’t wait to marry them someday.

You can’t help but giggle at the thought. “Both of them? Wow, all to yourself, huh?”

She pouts and whips her head upward. “No, sissy! We both get one!”

”Oh yeah? Because you’re the queen of the kingdom, you get to pick?”

“That’s right! They’ll have to fight to see who gets to pick you!”

You roll your eyes, shaking your head at the thought. You’re only ten years old, the thought of boys fighting over you was hilarious.

”Promise not to tell Izu, but I think Katsu would win that fight,” she whispers, tugging on your hand to get you to lean over closer to her face. “He’s taller and faster!”

The thought of marrying Katsuki flashes in your mind - you have zero clue what that even looks like, but you imagine him bringing you flowers on the playground or giving you a bite of his ice cream. A blush creeps over your cheeks and nose at the thought. Your sister catches your reaction and gasps dramatically.

“You like Katsu?!” she exclaims.

You shush her. “No! Don’t go yelling that!”

That’s a big fat lie. You liked him a lot, he was your favorite person, but you’re kids.

It’s just a harmless crush.

───

An Enchanted Afternoon - Elementary School

A week later, the four of you returned to the playground after school. Snacks from your pantry in hand, the bunch of you sit on the swing set to eat. Your sister seemed extremely eager today, more so than usual. Once you all finished eating, she demanded your attention.

"Gather 'round! Your queen summons you," she declares, arms raised above her head. You and the boys huddle around her.

"Katsu, go fetch flowers!" she orders as she points to a nearby patch of grass. "Zuzu, clear out the sandbox of any villagers."

There wasn't anyone else here today, so that job was easily done. Izuku doesn't say anything and smiles as he heads over to the sandbox as ordered. Katsuki is confused, nose scrunched and arms crossed.

"Why do I need to get flowers?" he asks, tapping his foot in the wood chips.

"Do you dare defy your queen?!" she shouts, grinning wickedly. He obliges, sauntering over to the grass to find a few spare daisies.

"What's all this for?" you ask, genuinely curious to her plans. She doesn’t answer you as she grabs you by the wrist, dragging you over to the sandbox.

A few minutes later, Katsuki comes back with a handful of daisies, picked and pruned clean of any dirt and weeds. Izuku stands on the edge of the sandbox patiently.

”Perfect! Katsu, Sissy, please approach your queen.”

You play along and stand in front of her with Katsuki. It’s amusing how small she is in comparison to the two of you, easily shadowing over her figure.

“With my knight as witness, I give the blessing to the princess and royal guard to be married forever!” she exclaims, waving her hands around to mimic casting a magic spell.

You're pretty sure she got that line from a princess movie, but that doesn't make the sentiment any less adorable. You begin to chuckle to yourself, smiling ear to ear before turning toward Katsuki. You're expecting him to be disgusted, repulsed by something so sickly sweet, but are shocked to see him standing with the flowers outstretched in your direction. He's biting his bottom lip and avoiding eye contact by staring directly at your feet.

"H-here," he whispers meekly, pushing the flowers into your hands. You've never seen him so shy before - that's usually Izuku's demeanor. His unexpected affection makes your little heart flutter in your chest.

"Thank you 'Suki," is all you can muster up the courage to say, your mind running blank on the right thing to say. It's just an imaginary scenario...It's not real, not like you're actually marrying him. Katsuki exhales, turning his back to you to hide his strawberry colored cheeks.

"Now you're together forever!" you sister raves, dancing on her tip toes with satisfaction.

Maybe that was the moment she bound you two together with some unknown magical force, or it was a mere coincidence. The sappy part of your young brain believed in fairytales and chose to believe she was weaving your golden string to him, binding you two for life.

───

Leftovers - Middle School

”Yo, brats! Come eat already so I can get the hell outta here,” Katsuki called from your doorway. He’d come by with leftovers from his mom for you and your sister, since your own mom was working later that day. The two of you were still…friends? You weren’t sure. Being in seventh grade and all, he started acting like you weren’t cool enough for him. He did the same to Izuku, starting to ditch the two of you for other kids in class to hang out with at lunch or walk home with. Did it hurt your feelings? Absolutely. But you didn’t own him, he was allowed to have other friends, even if it did suck to see him less outside of class.

“Coming!” you called back, skipping down the hallway with your sister in tow. She happily ran into the entryway, hugging Katsuki by the waist. She was taller now, but still much smaller than him as a fourth grader.

“Hiya Katsu!” she gleamed up at him, rubbing her face against his uniform jacket.

He grunted, uncomfortable with her sudden affection and poking her in the forehead to release her grip. “Let go, squirt!”

He turned his attention to you as your sister finally let go of him. “Here, take these. I gotta get to practice.”

”Thank you! Tell your mom we said hi.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

You hand the containers to your sister as she wanders off to the table. Before Katsuki opens the door, you tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, are you alright?”

He scoffs at your question. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just seem distant lately. Wanna come by sometime for a movie marathon?” you ask, tilting your head and giving him a warm smile.

“We’re not kids anymore. Got better stuff to do.”

Ouch, that stung. Your smile fades away as you reply. “Well…I know. I just miss hanging out with you.”

“You have Deku an’ that other group of bitches you hang out with, ya don’t need me.” His harsh comment has notes of jealousy intertwined in his words. He goes to put his hand on the door again before you take a step forward to stop him.

“Kat, they’re not a replacement for you. You’ve got your own friends now, too since you’re on the soccer team. You’re saying we can’t hang out 'cause we have different friends?”

He glares at you before pushing past you and pulling on the front door.

“Hey!” your sister shouts from the dining area. “Katsu, that’s not nice. My royal guard doesn't act like that!” She’s always thought of Katsuki as a guard since your elementary school playground days.

“Cut the shit! We’re not kids anymore!” Katsuki rebuttals with a growl of frustration.

He makes eye contact with you. “We’ve grown apart, end of fuckin’ story. Get over it.”

He slams your front door closed and leaves you standing in the entryway, your eyes stinging from the urge to cry. You feel a small gust of wind rush by as your sister is sprinting to the door, throwing it open and running outside without shoes on.

“Hey!” She calls after Katsuki. “Get your butt back here, Katsu!”

He turns on his heel. “Hah?!”

She stomps on the ground, fists balled at her sides. “Apologize to her!”

Katsuki cackles, a little too manically. “For what, brat?”

“You’re being a mean jerk to her! She doesn’t deserve to be yelled at like that. Friends are friends forever, idiot!” she yells, her cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched together.

You can’t help but stifle a laugh at her calling Katsuki an idiot and turn your head to hide your amusement.

”That’s not who you are, Katsu. That’s not how you treat your princess!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and screws his eyes shut in annoyance, exhaling dramatically. He locks his gaze on you, storming back up to the doorway. He roughly ruffles your sister’s hair as he passes by her as a pseudo apology. Katsuki sucks the air through his teeth and shoves his fists in his pockets as he stops in front of you.

“Look, ‘m sorry for yellin’, okay?” he sighs, kicking a foot against the pavement. “I'll come over Saturday, we’ll have that movie day ya wanted.”

"You don't need to if you feel forced to hang out with me." Your eyes shift to your feet to avoid looking at his reaction.

" 's fine. I'll be here at noon, don't pick anything lame."

With that, he turns to leave for a second time in silence. You watch him disappear around the corner and can't help but feel like a burden for asking him to make time for you. As if reading your mind, your sister shakes you out of the negative train of thought while walking back to the house.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just being a dumb boy. That’s what my teacher says when boys are mean for no reason.” She grins a toothy smile up at you and grabs your hand. “Come on! Foods getting cold!”

Katsuki rounded the corner and waited to be out of sight before palming his face in anger. He had no idea why he said those things to you. None of it was true, especially that you’d grown apart. If anything, he was jealous of your friends and missed seeing you all the time. But he couldn’t bring himself to say so, like always. Ever since middle school started, he’d harbored some unknown rage inside of him that lashed out every chance it could. He hated it and didn’t know what to do to stop it - hence trying out for the soccer team, looking for an outlet for the pent up emotions in his body.

Katsuki secretly hoped you wouldn’t end up despising him for it. Even after all this time, he still thinks of you whenever he sees a patch of daisies.

Maybe one day he’d be brave enough to tell you about it.

───

Running Late - High School

The front door to your home opens as Katsuki slips inside, kicking his loafers off by the door. Your younger sister peaks over the kitchen counter while spreading jam over her toast and nods in his direction.

"Hey Katsu, pretty sure she's still asleep upstairs," she calls, rolling her eyes. "I tried to get her up three times, maybe you'll have better luck."

It was hard to believe that she was already in her freshmen year of high school - shit, it’s crazy that you and Katsuki were seniors. The age of playground days and summer adventures went by in the blink of an eye.

He makes his way to the kitchen island, leaning over to ruffle your sister’s hair - some things never change.

"Thanks, bean. I'll get her ass movin’."

“Stooop! You’ll mess up my hair!” She whines as she pulls away, fixing a few stray pieces of her fluffy mane.

“Ya look fine, don’t sweat it,” he compliments while heading for the staircase. He makes his way to your bedroom on the second floor. The door is surprisingly cracked open - he taps on the doorframe to grab your attention.

“Come in,” you call, lying on your bed facing the wall above the covers while scrolling on your phone. You presume it’s your sister until a soft kiss is planted on your cheek.

“Mornin’ sweets,” Katsuki whispers, rubbing your shoulder to turn you to face him. He sits on the edge of your bed beside you. “You wanna be late for our last first day of high school?”

You shift to sit up and drop your phone to your bed, reaching to cradle his face in your hands.

“No, I just wanted to steal a few kisses first,” you mumble as your lips quietly meet his. Katsuki places one hand on your cheek while the other lightly grazes your back. After a few moments, the two of you part with a soft smack. You stand and straighten up your uniform skirt, flattening a few of the panels to work out any stray creases.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, spinning around for Katsuki and showing off your uniform. Your hair was pulled into a pretty ponytail with a few pieces framing your face. The only make up you had on was some lip gloss - you valued sleeping in over doing a minimalist makeup look today.

“Y’always look good,” he sighs, standing to his feet. “Let’s get movin’ before bean suspects somethin’.”

You hadn’t told your sister about your relationship with Katsuki. Sure, you guys had been friends since you were children and he’s always around…how would she know the difference?

The two of you patter down the hallway and skip down the stairs to the kitchen. Your sister is waiting for the two of you, arms crossed and tapping one foot impatiently.

“Finally! Get your damn shoes on,” she orders while pushing you toward the door. She does a double take at Katsuki while you’re putting on your shoes, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Katsu…are you wearing lipgloss?”

Oops.

Katsuki’s searching for something to say as his face glows scarlet. He puts a hand on the back of his neck and turns away, grumbling while attempting to hide his embarrassment.

“Oh come on, you two. I knew you guys started dating months ago. You think I didn’t notice?”

You spin around to face her, cheeks puffed and eyebrows scrunched. “You never said anything?!”

She laughs, walking up to Katsuki and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“If you ever hurt her, Katsuki, I’ll knock your lights out. I know where you sleep,” she threatens, grinning mischievously. Katsuki pulls her into a headlock, ruffling her hair a second time.

“Deal, but I plan on stayin’ alive.” He lets her go, chuckling as he smooths out the pieces of hair he messed with.

Seeing the two of them get along never fails to make your heart swell with joy. Katsuki has always treated her like his own sister - one that he could easily give back at the end of every day, anyways.

She turns with a huff with her hands in the air.

“You both have my blessing, you should know that. I didn’t marry you two in a sandbox for nothing!”

───

Today Was A Fairytale - Current Day

“It’s an honor to be doing this for a second time. You’re in luck, my vocabulary has grown exponentially since our sandbox days.”

There’s a wave of laughter through the crowd at your sister’s lighthearted joke. You can’t help but smile as Katsuki’s fingers dance across the back of your hand to regather your attention.

God, he looks so damn handsome in that tux. His usual wild hair is slicked back and tamed - an extremely rare sight. Carmine eyes stare back at you, full of devotion and excitement for this next chapter in your fairytale.

“By the power vested in me, and these people as my witness, I pronounce you two as king and queen of the kingdom!”

Friends and family alike cheer and whistle as you and Katsuki intertwine, kissing each other for the first time as husband and wife. He spins you around and dips you low, kissing the tip of your nose playfully.

“I love you,” he mouths, a silent profession of adoration - reserved just for you.

The two of you strut down the aisle to the dance floor in the reception hall, the DJ already queuing the first dance song. Katsuki gently tugs you by the waist, pulling you closer to him as he begins to sway side to side when the music begins to fill the room. You rest your head against his chest and get lost in the moment.

Right now, the world belongs to the two of you. Every worry, struggle, and hardship is stripped away from your lives to give you the peace you deserve.

There’s one thought that lingers in your mind as you catch a glimpse of your teary-eyed sister watching you from the corner of the dance floor, latched onto Izuku’s arm for support.

She tied that golden string with an unbreakable knot.

tags 💥 @slayfics @maddietries @queenpiranhadon

#bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader fluff #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo #my hero academia #bakugo fluff #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #☆.rei writes

[jasontoddsdarling]

perihelion

— pairing: red hood x female reader

— words: 2,9k

— tags: smut 18+, naked female clothed male, cunnilingus (jason is a pussy eater and i meant it here), size differences*, size kink, rough sex, vaginal sex, belly bulge, overstimulation, creampie, fluff at the end

*❗content warning: repeated (and i meant repeated) descriptions about their size differences, so proceed with caution! it's going to be excessive lol so if it's not your cup of tea you can skip this one :)

"Red." 

She whimpers pathetically, eyes blurry with unshed tears as she looks down at the man situated in between her wide open thighs.

Red Hood's tongue delves into her pussy, eating her out like a man starving. Maybe he is. Because it's been… what? Thirty minutes? And he hasn't stopped. Not even for stretching his massive body or something. Not for one second, even.

His lips keep making out with her cunt. 

She's overly sensitive. 

But by hearing her mewling his name it spurs him on, for he's sucking her clit hard with a low groan.

Her hips shot high. She will probably reach the ceiling of her room if Red Hood's hands on her hips aren't holding her down.

"Red! Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!"

She sobs, orgasm wrecking her body like a ship against gigantic waves. Tears falling down her face in rivulets, dampening her soft pink pillowcase.

She can hear Red Hood shuffling now, by the sound of the fabric of her bedding against his clothes.

"You said you want to take my cock whole and not just half to three quarters," he says, voice hoarse, "I should prepare you thoroughly to make that possible. And multiple orgasms seem to prepare your tiny pretty pussy better indeed."

He proves his point by sweeping his fingers around her pussy opening, gathering her arousal.

"Look at this."

He's showing his shiny fingers to her. 

"Look at you gushing for me. All for me, isn't that true, princess?"

"Yes, Red. All for you."

Red Hood smiles, eyes glittering with wickedness and blown wide with lust behind his mask.

Red Hood quickly works, removing his belt and thigh holsters and dragging his trousers and briefs down above his knees.

He positions his leaking fat cock on her entrance, moving it up and down that at some point the angry red tip catches inside her.

She jerks at that, letting out a gasp. Her body always seems to forget how big he is compared to her.

Red Hood doesn't seem to notice because now he's placing his cock on her entire mound, his tip rests right above her navel. She shudders at the image both of them create. 

He is so massive. It should make her feel wary or something, she thinks, but she just feels that she's being taken care of and protected by this masked vigilante. A man that's capable of eradicating crime without mercy in Gotham streets is also able to worship her body and make her feel safe whenever she's with him, making her feel so wanted.

See, her thoughts have wandered into deeper territory she doesn't wish to visit—at least not right now anyway, when the man above her is about to be balls deep inside of her.

She directs her mind to the present.

Red Hood rubs his cock on her pussy, slathering the underside with her arousal from the orgasms he has drawn from her. 

"I'm not doing my job well if you're able to leave me alone and busy with your thoughts."

"Huh?"

She doesn't think Red Hood realizes that, she's pretty sure she was just lost in her mind for some milliseconds.

Red Hood removes himself from the top of her. She is about to protest but he swiftly sits on his haunches and pumps his cock with his precum and the wet underside of his cock from her arousal, slathering the moistures all over his cock.

Before knowing it, he has positioned himself back above her body.

She knows if hypothetically there's a mirror on her ceiling, she's only able to see his broad shoulders and toned body on the reflection—maybe her thighs if she opened them wide but that's it—because this massive man just simply covers her smaller torso with his. And she likes it more than she ever should.

Red Hood eases his tip inside of her and she feels the relief of having a part of him in her.

She closes her eyes as he keeps feeding her pussy with his cock. 

She can feel the slight pleasant ache that indicates he's working himself deep inside of her. He's probably almost all in now, she thinks.

But when she opens her eyes he's only about halfway inside.

Red Hood's expression indicates that he's holding back, pleasure written all over his face. 

But he is nothing if not relentless, keep pushing hips and drawing back, trying to ease the process. He keeps stuffing her with the rest of his cock centimeter by centimeter.

When he's like four fifths inside her, he groans her name.

"Princess. You're–" he groans, "you're always so tight. But I think this is the tightest you've ever been." 

She preens at his dirty talk. 

"It's you that is so big, Red. Why are you so big, so so big."

Tears gathered in her eyes at the sensation of his fat cock almost fully nestled inside of her. She has never felt like this, so full and whole. And he hasn't even all the way in.

And it's true. He's very considerable, and definitely the biggest one she has ever taken. The first time they're doing this—it was two months after he was wounded in her fire escape and kept visiting her weekly since then, just hanging out and mindlessly talking with her after his patrol—Red Hood was only able to put one third of his cock inside of her because he was afraid he was going to break her, even though she was begging him to just put the rest of it inside. Afterwards he was making it up to her by eating her out until she couldn't feel her thighs because of how he was holding her down so she couldn't squirm away from his ministrations.

Red Hood growls in her ear, cupping her tit and harshly playing with her nipple.

"You're flattering me so much, my sun."

My sun. Her nickname from him after learning the meaning of her name. It makes her feel buzzing that has nothing to do with him currently working his cock to be buried deep inside of her body.

Red Hood swaps his fingers with his hot mouth, his teeth pulling at her peaked brown nipple. 

"Ah!"

Red Hood puts his forehead on hers.

His minty breath fanning her hair as he stuffs the rest of his cock while also keeps distracting her from the stretch by circling her areola with her tongue and sucking on her nipple and globe of tit—leaving hickeys, switching between right to left.

Until he accomplishes the thing that she has wanted since the first time they slept together: the entirety of his fat cock inside of her pussy.

"Redredredredoh."

She feels intense stretch and pleasure she has never felt before, feeling his cock stretch her and the length of it reach a part inside her no one has ever been able to go. 

She feels so incredibly full.

"That's it. It's all in. You take all of my cock. Your tiny cunt is able to swallow all of me."

Red Hood kisses the rivulets that sliding down her cheek away, licking them clean.

She squeezes her inner muscles at the praises and the gesture and he groans, deep rumbles of sound from his chest.

She can feel every ridge of his cock, his veins rubbing deliciously against her walls. 

She has to bite her lips to contain her mewls.

"We're a tight fit. You're so good for me, so perfect."

She moans at his praises. 

Curious, she looks down at the part where they're joined.

A tiny gasp leaves her at the sight. 

Her lower stomach has a bulge from his cock residing inside.

Red Hood touches the indentation on her lower stomach, pressing on where his cock is nestled deep in her. 

"Look where I am inside of you."

He says as he keeps the pressure on her skin.

"You're–you're so deep."

She breathes out, seeing the proof of how different their bodies are—how big, how massive he is compared to her regular size, sending minds into so many directions.

He caresses the bump with his hand like it's the first time he has ever witnessed this. 

"It's the first time I have ever left something like this."

He says as if he knows what she's thinking about. 

"You're so beautiful like this."

She whimpers, her blown wide dark brown eyes seeing his beautiful rugged face above her. Even though he's always with his mask, his beauty has never been able to be obscured by it.

Red Hood kisses her deep, his mask digging on her face. His arms beside her head are strained, holding his body from crushing her smaller one.

His kiss is bruising, his teeth scraping against her upper and lower lips equally. He swipes his tongue, demanding an entrance to her mouth that she immediately grants. His tongue swipes hers, their saliva strings connected and messy between their lips.

Red Hood starts to move his hips, drawing his cock in and out of her in an experimental thrust, his fingers rubbing on her engorged clit. She lets out a pleasurable sigh.

Seeing her body has adjusted to the feel of his entire length intruding her slick walls, he repeats the motion much quicker and she screams at how her throbbing pussy being speared over and over again by his thick cock, always managed to be balls deep and bottoming out inside of her tight cunt everytime.

Her hand tugs on the silky strands of his dark hair.

"You're created for me, made for taking my cock nice and whole."

Red Hood says each word in between each of his deep thrusts. He grunts on her ears, the sounds making her cunt gushing. 

Her eyes roll to the back of her head by the carnal pleasure of his heavy thrusts and his dirty praises. 

She sobs on his shoulder, long black hair wildly fanning on her soft pink pillow and her bed.

But instead of telling him to slow down, she tells him, "Harder, please. Give your all."

Red Hood always obliges her, she doesn't have to ask him twice. That's what he wants as well, but he wanted to build up the pleasure. But her asking him to do so without his initiative, it just spurs him on.

He plows her cunt roughly, the drags of his thick cock and its ridges sets her nerves on fire. She accepts the pleasure borderline on oversensitivity gladly. She takes them all like a champ. Partly because it's a hassle to thrust up her hips against his powerful one but also because she wants this, badly. 

Beads of his sweats rolling down his cheeks, dropping on his light stubble and dropping on her tits. He swipes it away, fondling her tits and squeezing them. He pinches the erect peak and then closes his mouth on one of them, biting it hard. She cries, an orgasm tearing out of her by him, again for the nth time tonight.

"Red, you're so big, so deep. So deep." 

She babbles the only words she can only think of at this time. 

Her mind is completely blank with the way his cock keeps making space inside of her deeper and deeper as if it's still possible. 

"So big, oh God. Big. So thick… my tiny cunt." 

She looks like she's delirious with the height he brings her, the words that will make her hide her face with her hands if she ever remembers she ever speaks of them. 

His chest rumbles at her mindless dirty praises to him, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head, his sacks drawn tighter, preparing to blow his massive loads. 

If she keeps praising him like this with the cute and ethereal blissed out face of hers, messy but glowing black hair tangling on his fingers, and glistening skin of hers, he isn't sure he's able to hold on longer. He has been holding his orgasm since he was eating her out hours ago.

"Where do you want me, angel?"

Red Hood asks, grunting and panting above her. 

"Inside, please. Please cum inside of me, Red."

Red Hood growls at her consent and then draws his hips for the last time sending a deep, deep harsh thrust—that will send her head knocking against her headboard if he isn't currently clutching her hips to the point of bruising—until he's fully sheathed and bottoming out inside of her, the deepest he has been tonight, both of them sure—then losing himself in the height of his powerful climax.

A bodily shudder goes through her, her teary screams of pleasure are sure audible for her nearest neighbors.

Red Hood chants her name as his hot, thick white cum flows inside of her cunt, flooding her insides.

It's so much, too much. 

The streams of his hot cum is somehow a relief but also making her oversensitive. She doesn't think anyone is able to give that much of cum in one climax, but she thinks—as her mind cleared by her most powerful peak tonight—he must have been holding his orgasm since he ate her out hours ago. 

God knows if she were in his place—giving him blowjob multiple times until he climaxes—she wouldn't be able to hold hers and would probably orgasm alongside him with his cock deep in her throat. She shudders at her imaginative thought, not entirely against it—but Red Hood sure is, he likes the act of giving more than receiving.

She squirms because he hasn't stopped pumping his seed inside of her—balls still half drawn tight—but he shushes her and flicks her clit to calm her down from oversensitivity. 

She's just there, lying blissfully where the broad shouldered man above her cooing at her and praising her for doing so good for him and but she's in between wakefulness and sleep. She feels it when his cock sends the last spurts of his cum inside of her, but he doesn't move until he has softened in her, then carefully pulled out of her.

Red Hood is lying down beside her, hasn't drawn his pants and briefs up. 

He can feel the heavy stare of eyes in between her thighs, so she looks down on her body too.

Their combined fluids are a sticky white mess between her thighs, the blob of it peeking out from between her folds—not to mention the rest of his massive load inside of her cunt that probably will dribble down if she is as much as sitting down, she can't imagine if she tries to stand or walk, if she's able to in the first place, which she thinks she doesn't. 

The man beside her has wrecked her pussy with his cock and taken her ability to stand for at least until this morning, the feeling of it will definitely last for a week though.

As if senses that she needs to clean up but can't, he stands, drawing his pants and briefs up without zipping the former—probably for easy clean up—and walking to her bathroom. He's there for two minutes—she checks her bedside clock—and then comes back with his pants zipped up, hair much tidier, and a wet, warm soft towel on his hand.

He sits on the edge of the bed, cleaning the stickiness on her thighs and the white blob of cum that peeking out from her labia—the latter carefully because he knows she is overstimulated after everything—and then goes back to the bathroom to deposit it in her basket of dirty clothes.

When he's back again, she's slightly moving her body up—still laying down, though—holding her stuffed animal in her naked form in between the shallow valley of her tits, the sight making him smile. He sits at the side of the bed, drawing her blanket up until it covers her navel. 

He reaches for a bottle of water she has on her nightstand. Opening the cap, he offers it to her and because her head is only leveled up by her pillows at the back of her head and neck, some of it spills down her torso and slightly dampened her stuffie. 

"Pengu!"

"Pengu is okay, she's a penguin."

He retorts before drinking the rest of the water. 

She gives him her playful stink eyes, but says nothing and tries to rub the water with her blanket, even though it's obvious has been absorbed by the material of her stuffed animal.

She is still drying Pengu, so it surprises him when she asks, "Are you going to go, soon?"

"Do you want me to?"

He usually goes right after cleaning up, no hard feelings and anything.

But something is different in the air today, and he doesn't want to examine it further, but he knows he wants to stay here at least for some more hours.

"No."

She still hasn't looked at him, holding Pengu to her chest, so he pinches her chin up and kisses her.

"Okay, I will stay. Maybe until you sleep?"

She nods at him, her little smile is everything to him.

He lies down beside her, heads on the stack of her fluffy soft pink pillows that smells so her—peony and lychee scented perfume she wears—clothes intact and all, just without his belt and holster that are lying on her bedroom floor, but that's his problem for later. 

For now, he caresses her hair and holds his head close to his chest until she falls asleep.

mariea's notes: wow, you made it here! technically, this fic is crossposted from my ao3 account, i wrote it in september 2023. slightly modified. and i mind slight. you can head to my account (link on my pinned) if you're curious about the change i made lol. anyway thanks for reading <3

#jason todd smut #jason todd x reader #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x fem!reader #red hood smut #red hood x reader #red hood x fem!reader #red hood x female reader #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #mariea's fics #mariea's writing #mariea's works #queue <3

[ghcstao3]

Born!werewolf soap and Turned!Werewolf Simon.

Simon was turned into a werewolf during his time with Roba, tied to a man so horrible he never associated lycanthropy with anything but pain, and lack of control. It only ever reminds him of a time when he was always hungry for affection, yet violent without it. He never shifts without choosing to, and purposely ignores his needs as long as he can, until it’s debilitating.

Soap who has been a werewolf his whole life, knows his pack’s history like the back of his hand. He’s extremely attuned to his instincts, and to other wolves. It’s almost more comfortable for him to be a wolf, than go through the pain of humanities stiffness.

Them finding eachother and hurt/comfort <3

Initially, upon meeting Ghost, Soap is more than glad to finally have the opportunity to work with another werewolf, let alone one known for his skill, his precision, his deadliness—but then Soap is just as soon finding out that there's far more than meets the eye about Ghost's own condition.

Ghost, like most werewolves, was born human. There's a faint but distinct smell about him that tells Soap this, and initially, it's really no concern of his. Outside of his family, most other werewolves Soap had encountered in his life were turned at one point or another.

What separates Ghost from them, however, as Soap soon figures it out—is that Ghost never shifts. Not unless he has to, anyway. And that makes Soap curious more than anything.

Because shifting is such an integral part to being a werewolf. It's natural, freeing, and it's one of Soap's favourite things. It's a new kind of powerful that's so important and special to a werewolf, that Soap could never understand why Ghost would ever want to stave off such a thing. And being that Ghost is so tight-lipped about his own life, Soap has no idea where to begin guessing.

It isn't until months of knowing each other that Soap starts to get a hint.

The mission is tough. The team is in a tight spot, and only Soap's claws and teeth and strength aren't proving to be enough. So with a look Soap can't quite decipher, Price pleads silently with Ghost to do the one thing they all know he hates.

But because it's necessity, Ghost follows through. Soap should have clocked something was wrong in hearing pained groans and too-loud cracks of shifting bones, but he can't do anything to stop it. Can only watch as Ghost is released and begins a massacre, and Soap can only trail behind to pick off stragglers.

Once everything is said and done—it takes an hour to find Ghost, who had taken on the unfortunate task of shifting back alone, and who is discovered curled up and staring ahead at nothing in a far corner of one of the warehouses they'd been assigned to raid.

He bares his teeth when Price moves to approach him, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. Price pauses and glances back to Soap, whose hesitant attempt is met with no protest.

Huh.

That distant look still glazes over Ghost's eyes, though the fog clears ever-so slightly when his attention is called to Soap sitting beside him. Where Soap feels more alive than ever after a shift, Ghost looks... small. Afraid.

Hurt.

Soap begins to suspect the circumstances of his turning had been less than favourable, and his heart breaks with that realization.

Ghost, as touch averse as Soap has known him to be, tucks into Soap's side without prompting, leeching off his warmth and comfort while, in witnessing the scene, Price and Gaz turn and head out to meet exfil and explain the situation.

Whatever had happened to Ghost to have his shifts be this way—Soap determines then, in that very moment, that once they're back to safety and Ghost is back within himself, Soap is going to find a way to help him make peace with this inescapable part of his being. He'll find a way to turn bad into good, or neutral, at the very least, because Ghost doesn't deserve to be a stranger to himself.

Soap will take that pain away if it's the last thing he does. Because he doesn't think he could ever stand seeing Ghost so broken again.

He wraps his arms around Ghost's broad frame and lets the lieutenant bury his face in Soap's chest with a vulnerability Soap only gets to witness as a cause of animalistic instincts still not having worn off. It'll be inevitable, when Ghost comes to only to back off and shut everyone out for a little while, but for now, Soap selfishly indulges in the comfort as much as Ghost needs it.

Soap will make that pain his own, if he has to, he thinks.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #writing

[gaiathemexicanbeauty]

surprises | zoro drabble (18+)

18+ POST SO MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

zoro eating you out but he's much more skilled than you initially thought ♡

warnings: cunnilingus, some making out, degradation if you squint, afab reader!, this is mostly for anime zoro but this is up for interpretation tbh lmao, doesn't slap you around directly but kind of slaps your pussy LMAO

"lay down. on your back." zoro grumbles as he hooks his thumbs under the backs of your knees. your eyebrows raise in surprise as you nod softly. you were used to him wanting to get straight to the point, foreplay normally not lasting very long but now he was very nonchalantly about to eat you out; not that zoro didn't always have a face that was a mix between disinterest and annoyance, save for when he was looking at you like he was going to devour you whole. like right about now. your back arches slightly in anticipation when you see zoro's head in between your legs, acutely aware that he's never actually been as close to you as he is now. you let out a small gasp of surprise when his thumb brushes your clit, gently rubbing over it; the mix of his breath so close to where you want him and the pressure of his thumb sent goosebumps over your body.

he doesn't even warn you before his lips meet your pussy, your jaw dropping open in a mix of shock and pleasure. "ooh, fuck.." is all you can manage when his tongue presses against your clit and stays there for a minute, your hand instantly going for his hair and pulling on it as you try to ground yourself. he looks up at you with those same eyes, those eyes that finally show something other than being annoyed; he looks like he could eat you and he is. he doesn't take his eyes off you as he moves away a bit to let his tongue drag against all of you, making your head tip back as your hips stutter against him. you can barely lift them all the way with the way he has one of his arms wrapped. even still, you try to squirm out of his grip, soft whines of protest and pleasure leaving you when his mouth completely envelopes you and his tongue eagerly pushes into you.

zoro grunts as he pulls you impossibly closer to him, hips flush against his lips and chin as his brows furrow up at you; he was clearly not in agreement with your attempts to get away. "t-too much.." you whine, making him pull away to catch his breath. "since when is a-anything too much for you?" he says with a hint of a smirk, a look that would normally make you shove him away. you'd sooner die than feel him any farther way than he is now. "always so wet for me.." he grumbles under his breath, leaning down every so often to leave a wet kiss on your clit that makes you hiss through clenched teeth every time he pulls away. you yelp when he leaves a quick slap against your pussy before diving back in again, this time holding the backs of your hips in an almost bruising grip. your breath comes out less steadily as you feel the warmth in the pit of your stomach grow almost unbearable, your legs shaking around zoro's head; with the way he hasn't stopped, you can tell zoro isn't going to let you down so easy.

you start gasp out zoro's name like a mantra, one hand threading through his hair and the other balling up the sheets underneath you until your knuckles turn white. he only lets out a soft moan when you're finally unable to control yourself, your back arching off the bed as you push his mouth up against you and let out a long string of moans. your chest rises and falls hard when you've finally come down from your orgasm, eyes fluttering closed when zoro finally pulls away. before you can even think, his lips meet yours, eagerly kissing him back at the taste of yourself on his tongue. your legs haven't even regained feeling by the time he's tossing them over his shoulders and starting to stroke himself.

I HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THAT ONE AS MUCH AS MY SANJI ONE LOL that one is close to 1010 notes and its INSANE

#roronoa zoro #zoro #one piece zoro #zoro x reader #one piece smut #one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x you #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro smut #zoro x reader smut #op smut #op x reader

[david-talks-sw]

When a Star Wars writer engages with the material but not the narrative.

I'm writing a long post about the Jedi and the clone troopers and there's a whole section that I had to remove because it was too long:

Karen Traviss' take on the Jedi and the clones.

I already wrote about why Karen Traviss' take on the Jedi and Yoda doesn't track with what George Lucas had established in his narrative of the Prequels. Since then, I've been able to do more research.

It's no secret that one of the reasons Traviss listed for criticizing the Jedi in the Expanded Universe books she wrote is their treatment of the clones (or at least what she understood it to be).

In 2008, she wrote a now-deleted blog post about it (it was really long, so I'm only including the part relevant to my point, if you want the full context you can look it up, this is old stuff).

So if you ask me, in the above quote, Traviss is essentially doing the equivalent of saying:

"Batman is a psycho elitist who beats up the mentally ill and indoctrinates kids, turning them into child soldiers for his unending crazy vigilante war on crime, and if you can't recognize that then you scare the living crap out of me."

Like... you can argue that, and a couple of comics have argued that.

But by and large, the general consensus is that Batman is a superhero, the Robins are his sons and daughter, and the "mentally ill" are in fact the Joker and Two-Face aka mass murderers.

So if you make that argument, that's you applying your real-life values and conclusions to a narrative that deliberately doesn't acknowledge those points, in-universe, in order to tell the story it wants to tell.

It's counting on your suspension of disbelief, defined as "the avoidance—often described as willing—of critical thinking and logic in understanding something that is unreal or impossible in reality, such as something in a work of speculative fiction, in order to believe it for the sake of enjoying its narrative."

The Jedi accepting the clones and the clones being slaves isn't a "delicate point". It's barely a point at all!

It's never addressed in the film (because of course it isn't, the Prequels are about Anakin and the Republic, not the clones).

It's only addressed once by Slick, an unreliable narrator, in The Clone Wars.

That's it. Hell, in 2008, when The Clone Wars writer Henry Gilroy was asked to comment on the relationship between clones and Jedi, he explicitly said he'd "rather not get into" that particular point.

I recently got Mythmaking: Behind the Scenes of 'Attack of the Clones' and nowhere is that detail touched on by Lucas at any point.

Nobody wants to touch on that point with a 10ft pole, because it's not relevant to the story.

So while Traviss acknowledges the Jedi are fictional characters, she doesn't follow that thread through to the end by acknowledging that fictional characters don't have free will, they must abide by the story and the whim of the writer.

She's engaging with the material, but refusing to engage with the narrative. She's having her cake and eating it too.

My reason for saying all this is that in the book Star Wars on Trial, she elaborates on her thought process upon discovering this detail.

Shortly before to this, she acknowledges twice that she knew nothing about Star Wars, beside seeing the original films in her youth.

Another writer who saw the new films and saw Mace Windu argue against there being a war...

... the worry on his face at the prospect of the Jedi being thrown at the Separatists...

... and the sheer melancholy on Yoda's face upon announcing the Clone War had begun...

... might have instead wondered how the Jedi, so opposed to war, could've ended up being generals.

Because while we don't see the Jedi openly protest the use of the clones in the film... they're not exactly giddy about it, either. All they can do is watch powerlessly as it gets voted by the Senate.

"The Jedi are there. But the Jedi aren't really allowed to be involved in the political process. They're there, but they can't suddenly step up and say, "No, no. You can't do that." They have to let the political process go." - George Lucas, Attack of the Clones, Commentary #2, 2002

We also don't see them take on the role of generals, either.

We only see them begrudgingly lead troops on Geonosis, specifically.

But they're not referred to as "generals" yet.

Another writer might have imagined a scene where after Geonosis, Mace Windu talks to Palpatine thinking the Jedi will go back to their roles as diplomats, and that what we saw in Attack of the Clones was a one-time thing to save Obi-Wan, but Palpatine politely goes:

"Ha! No. Didn't you hear? The Senate was so impressed by your performance on Geonosis that they voted to make you all generals in the GAR. Now, get back to the front."

Another writer might've elected to write them having that "big moral debate" she mentions.

Instead, Traviss immediately jumps on the "Jedi are elitists" train.

Because her personal experience with the military makes her sympathize with the clones and her personal belief is that - while the story may frame the Jedi as "the good guys" - nobody is that good a guy, real life people aren't that pure and selfless. There's gotta be something off about them and aHA! That's what it is!

That's her choosing to take that line of thought instead of one more in-line with the story, because she perceives it as unrealistic. But like... Star Wars isn't real life, it's a fairy tale.

That's like saying:

"The hunter in Little Red Riding Hood commits animal cruelty by cutting the Wolf open. He should've let nature take its course, the wolf earned that meal fair and square. If you think the hunter should've saved Red Riding Hood and her Grandma, then clearly you're the kind of monster who thinks one life is worth more than others."

... no?

The story's narrative clearly portrays the wolf as the villain of the tale and frames the Hunter saving Red Riding Hood as a good thing.

Disagreeing with that narrative is absolutely fine, but anybody who acknowledges the wolf is the bad guy in the story isn't automatically an animal hater and/or a bad person. Just because you say "the wolf is the villain" doesn't mean that you think that, in real life, killing wolves for shits and giggles is good.

Conversely, the narrative of the Prequels asks you to suspend your disbelief and not consider the implications that having a clone army entails. Because the use of clones doesn't have a direct impact on either Anakin or the Senate's stories.

Edit: I finished the post this one here originally spun out of!

You can find it here:

#Karen Traviss #clone troopers #jedi order #in defense of the jedi

[dadsbongos]

i eat your skin - f.megumi

part of the jjk movie marathon event / movie selection … warnings - cunnilingus (fem reader), title sounds like vore smut but it isn't i promise word count - 3.7 K / rating - R

Megumi braces his hands on his knees, brows pinched tight in preemptive annoyance. Satoru spindles over him, shadowing the younger man almost completely - and it only serves to irritate Megumi that he’d refused to sit down. Furiously determined to forever humiliate his former pupil, Megumi assumes.

Or, he would, if Satoru hadn’t actually agreed to give him advice about a little… situation.

“Alright, now when you see her, look at me- seriously, look at me, Megumi,” Satoru’s face is lethally drawn, usual bright grin tugged low and serious with furrowed brows to match, “Megumi, you cannot let her intimidate you,” Megumi opens his mouth, a vile retort slithers back down his throat when Satoru interrupts, “No, I know you, and you’ll feel all sick,” he mocks a frown, even pretending to wipe tears from his eyes, “You’ll get all nervous. But you cannot let her intimidate you out of it.”

“I’ll hardly die asking her out,” Megumi rolls his eyes, one hand lathering the sweat in his palms against his sweatpants and the other scratching the back of his neck, “Maybe this just isn’t a good idea…”

“And what? Be a miserable wimp the rest of your life?” Satoru folds his arms across his chest, “You’ve liked her since you were first years.”

“And?”

“You’re graduates now!”

“So?”

“‘So,’” Satoru mimics Megumi’s sulking nature, voice deep and neanderthal-ish in nature, “Be greedier, kid!” he flicks the younger man’s forehead, “You’ll die one day. You’ll die. Whether it be on a mission, or in your hospital bed as a diseased old man - you can’t stop it. So, why deprive yourself of something you really want when it all ends the same?”

Megumi can’t exactly pinpoint the reason he even came to his old legal guardian for help over, say, Nanami. He definitely should’ve gone to Nanami, at least he could’ve given Megumi genuine advice that isn’t some children’s show morale of “just tell her how you feel!” - he could’ve done that any day.

When Megumi opens his mouth to protest, Satoru flicks him again.

“You think your special one,” Megumi gags loudly at the title, and Satoru pays it no mind, “is gonna sit around her entire life not having fun and being young? Getting dates?” Satoru nods to himself when Megumi doesn’t reply, “Duh.”

“I want this to be special,” Megumi insists, both hands coming to rest in his lap now, he squeezes them together, lacing his fingers and imagining how yours would look with him instead, “I want- “

He wants and wants and wants and does nothing.

He needs to be someone you simply can’t fathom saying no to, he needs it so bad his stomach churns just like Satoru said it would.

“Alright, I know it can be difficult for you - not being me, after all,” a large hand claps on Megumi’s shoulders and he looks up to see the beaming face attached, “But trust me, kid, this whole idea of a ‘special’ confession is archaic bullshit compared to just being yourself.”

“I thought girls liked special confessions?”

“Sexist: not all girls automatically like the same things,” his former teacher shakes his head, sighing out each disappointed fiber trapped in his soul, “And if she doesn’t accept a plain, Megumi-style date proposition, then her shock and awe over a sick-as-hell graphic novel confession isn’t going to make for a healthy relationship.”

“Hm,” Megumi bites back frustrated curses, taking the words and molding them into a more conventional way that actually makes sense. He nods, “Okay.”

“Exactly,” Satoru stands back, giving Megumi room to rise from his bed, “Oh, but one thing that does help?” the older man grins wickedly, “Eat her out. Direct line to a woman’s heart is through eating her pussy.”

“Shut up,” Megumi huffs, pointing at his wide-open bedroom door, “Shut up. Shut up and get the hell out.”

“Jeez,” Satoru yanks at the already loose collar of his plain black shirt, “I thought we left teen angst behind. Just give it some thought! And also, I wanted to ask- “

Megumi huffs, falling back onto his bed, still pointing at the door.

“If,” and in true fashion, Satoru continues, maybe even a little louder (just to prove a point), “you wanted to watch a movie?”

“No,” Megumi immediately answers.

“C’mon! It’s this or paperwork I have to do.”

Megumi’s eye roll gives Satoru no more room for pleading, and so he stalks back to the living room. Dragging his socked feet over a shaggy black rug towards the door, he takes a final peek over his shoulder at the boy on his bed. Stupid mouth in a stupid pout and stupid nose forcing stupid crocodile sniffles, Satoru acts out a picturesque performance. And if his blindfold were off, Megumi is certain he’d catch big blue eyes framed by batting white lashes.

“No, “ Megumi rolls his eyes again, “‘m going out.”

…

Blushy top with faded blue bell bottoms and a shiny, thin chain that dangles across your chest, Megumi’s eyes flit away from your figure just as quick as they’d found you. Everything’s a little murky under the purple LEDs, but he thinks you’ve worn that before. He thinks you’re somehow more beautiful now. He looks away, snaking through a narrow, picture-framed hallway at Yuuji’s back to this house’s kitchen. There are no light strips strapped across the kitchen walls, simple and plain and unflattering fluorescent bulbs send a gentle cream wash over the walls.

With only a handful of straggling bodies leaning against peeling-edged faux wood cabinets and spotted countertops, there’s more room to breathe than in the hall. Red Solo cups from every teen movie nightmare decorate hands and unnerving corners. Some more anxious part of him wants to reach out and push every precarious ruby further back into secure landing, but he doesn’t.

Two women in complimentary spaghetti strap dresses flounce out of the kitchen with looped arms. They’re sunk into the plum tank until Megumi can’t see them at all anymore.

“Oh, like that!” you muse, nudging your chin towards a pair in matching floral print dresses that reach about mid-thigh, “Exactly my point.”

“That’s hardly 70s influenced,” the man in front of you - Jirou? Junto? Jouji? you don’t really recall - shakes his head, “Just flowers.”

“No, no, look at the trim,” you’re trying your hardest not to point but this guy just cannot pinpoint the details in your mind to save his life, “It’s flowy and mesh. Sort of. That’s a little more flower child era, right?”

“I guess, if your only experience in that fashion was movies,” you huff at the response and he laughs in the face of such exasperation.

“Whatever! You’re so difficult.”

“Hobby,” it’s so plain out of his lips. Like you should somehow be expecting that snark.

“Oh my God…” you can hardly believe someone could be so obtuse. A contrarian just for the fun of it, “And are you normally invited to parties for that?”

“Oh, no,” his tone, again, betrays some delusion that you should already know the answer, but this time you do already know. Who invites a conversation killer to an event? “I got dragged here by a friend. Don’t even know who the host is.”

You snicker, one hand smothering the sight of your mouth, “That makes more sense.”

Megumi can see the hand that binds, you usually don’t string it up around those you’re close with. Like Yuuji and Nobara and Maki and Miwa from Kyoto and your friends that live closer to the coast and the friends that don’t and your parents and him. So you’d think he’d know better than to let a big, gangly, clawed, green beast sprout and grow and suck away at his gut.

Even though that hand is a sign of some rising desire to be out of that conversation, he still hates being across the room when it happens. Because that’s still some semblance of a shining star behind the flesh. Some laugh or smile he’s not next to.

And it isn’t like he hates when you’re out with others. What he hates is being in the same room with someone potentially more captivating than he is.

He hopes you like him best because he’s the most familiar and drawing, and it’s disturbing when someone else might be more homely and more charming and more absorbing. He hates the curdling illness of jealousy and he hates to be this way when you two aren’t even together, but most of all he hates that maybe you’ll prefer someone else simply because they’re better at his craft than he is.

So Megumi watches and rots quietly with thick, spindling vines spreading and tangling him to the kitchen doorway as you talk to a guy whose name he doesn’t know. It’s pathetic and waning most unbearably.

“Stop staring, it’s weird,” Yuuji chastises, chunking part of his weight against Megumi’s side, an elbow shelved on Megumi’s shoulder, “Just go up and say something, if you wanna talk to her.”

“Yeah, it’s that easy,” Megumi jerks through the vines and into the hungry waters of a living room party with a snapping, starved crowd before finding the optimal spot: a plain wall with no posters or pictures to snag and smack down.

Yuuji trails after, his white shirt reflecting a blinding shade of lavender from beneath his puffer jacket. Much easier to track down than Megumi’s gloomy, funeral-grade attire. Yuuji capitalizes on the empty space so ugly at Megumi’s side, staking claim to the wall with a huff, “It is, by the way. You two are friends. Go tell her you’re here.”

“But then I’d have to,” Megumi’s mouth zips shut, head tilting as he snakes a hand through some imaginary crowd.

“I guess,” Yuuji wants to shake Megumi at times like this. He wants to shake you too, sometimes. But mostly he imagines squeezing Megumi’s shoulders and smacking him around, but he never does.

Maybe just the first part.

All out of love.

“Okay,” so Yuuji pivots, swerving in front of his best friend and taking one shoulder in each hand, “You need to do something or you’re going to sit here and be pouty, dude.”

“I’m not pouty.”

“Biggest lie in Tokyo, brother,” Yuuji purses his lips, eyes flitting to where you are, “I’ll get her over here if you really don’t want to.”

“Hm?” Megumi’s brows furrow, neck craning closer as if he could somehow mishear the man.

“Just pretend to be busy or some shit and I’ll brave the crowd,” Yuuji goes to walk away, suddenly pausing and placing a hand over Megumi’s heart, “And if I don’t return, sing songs for me by a nice lake every anniversary.”

“Whatever,” Megumi knocks away the hand but is already pulling out his phone to perform the charade. His eyes lock onto the screen and he soldiers on to not rip them away and give slight that this was planned.

…

“Do you think I could maybe get your number?”

“Oh!” no, God no - you wish you were better at saying that, “Uh,” it’s not even as if you dislike this guy, you just don’t think any conversation with him could amount past what it has.

Wow, you’re a pain in the ass! Yeah but it’s funny, right? Not if it’s on purpose. Especially if it’s on purpose! Sure, if that’s what you think. You do think it’s funny, right? Sure. Come on, it is! Sure.

And dry replies make you want to claw your eyes out more when you have to give them than when you receive them.

So when the bony fingers of Yuuji creep upon your side, it’s like the first drink of water after sifting through thick bowls and hills of sandy desert. He leans his head down into your peripheral, grinning brightly, “Miss me?”

“Yuuji!” you cheer, turning to… Junsei? and laying a flat palm under Yuuji’s chin, “This is my buddy, who I didn’t know was coming.”

“I texted you,” he pinches your side, “Fushiguro’s busy, so I’m fetching you for the night,” and you wonder if he might feel the stiffness of your muscles and the rigid air, “Sorry, man, but she’s got serious business tonight!”

“Oh,” Junzo! Junzo’s forehead crinkles, nose wrinkling at the bluntness of this cocky new stranger, “Uh…”

“See you around,” maybe it’s a lie, maybe it isn’t. You wave and let Yuuji keep you pressed to his side. You wait until you’re certain the surrounding affairs of other people drown whatever you could say to Yuuji, “Thank you for that. He was asking for my number and I just didn’t know what to say…”

“No,’” he shrugs.

“Oh, like you could’ve done that.”

“I could’ve!”

But Yuuji can do anything, so that isn’t fair.

“‘gumi!” you cheer upon getting close to the boy, arms splaying wide before wringing yourself around his neck, “I was worried you weren’t coming!”

He hesitates before having the misfortune to hear Satoru’s words once again. Be greedier. Be greedier. So he gently settles both hands on your back, pushing you chest-to-chest, “Yeah, well, Itadori wouldn’t let me stay in.”

“Poor baby,” you step back, and Megumi takes notice in how you maintain your hands’ position over his shoulders, nails picking at fluff on his shirt.

Megumi, regrettably, can still hear Satoru in the back of his head. Greedier, greedier, greedier. It chokes him up, the idea of selfishly taking you for himself. But what really grips him is the terrible way your gaze flits from his face to other men - unintentionally, he’s sure. But it drives him wild all the same.

“I hate big parties,” Megumi boldly cradles the bend of your waist with his hand, fingers splaying wide over the curve. He tugs you closer, thighs nearly brushing, “Crowd’s a pain in the ass.”

“Ah, no, c’mon, what’s that Great Gatsby quote?” who’s to say, he hasn't read that book, “‘I like large parties. They’re so intimate…’” you shrug, bottom lip tugging between your teeth when he doesn’t show any recognition, “‘At small parties there isn’t any privacy.’”

“You actually remembered that shit?”

You titter coyly, “Maybe I saw it on one of those book quotes videos. Maybe I remembered it.”

“Well, it’s a stupid quote. There’s too much noise at big parties, it’s hard to hear people.”

“You hear me just fine,” that’s just because he’s leaning closer and trying harder than he does for most people, “Besides, I like it. At big parties you can just fuck off and do your own thing, you know? At small parties there’s this expectation to be around everyone and interact with everyone and be having fun with the group.”

Finally, it seems to click, he nods slowly, “You like to get away from the crowd?”

“Yeah,” you scratch the side of your arm, then your neck, and it’s so odd how just thinking about how uncomfortable your skin is that you can get so itchy, “Hard to do that when the crowd’s five people and a dog.”

“Well,” Megumi can feel Yuuji’s stare, and it takes everything in him to not knock the kid up his skull, “If you wanna get away, I’m sure - uh,” he’s suddenly humiliated by his own hubris, “I’m sure there’s room… upstairs…”

You grace him with a patient nod, hands lowering from his shoulders to lace your fingers together, “I’m sure there is.”

…

“So…”

“So…”

Megumi nods, head slowly tilting so he’s staring up at you through his long lashes, “So.”

You lean closer, shoulder pressing and nose bumping against his, “So?”

The heat from Megumi’s cheeks wavers over you, his flesh ripe with crimson. You want to bite him. Leave a terrible mark that he couldn’t possibly cover up; maybe he’d let it bleed through his dark shirt. Maybe he’d let you lick it clean.

“You look nice,” he tucks his face down, heated skin now flush against your top. His brows furrow, uncertain, “Really nice.”

Megumi wonders what Satoru or Yuuji would do. They’re greedier than him by nature. More outgoing.

They would’ve done something years ago.

Suddenly, you grin. All sharp teeth and nails pricking over his thigh, through his pants. Your eyes stare down at him over the bridge of your nose, and you lean closer - smothering any space he’d initially put between your bodies.

“Are you gonna do something about it?”

Megumi’s eyes widen, warmth beating over his face and the back of his neck. He flails for a response, trapped under your piercing gaze, before finally settling on a response that he hopes pleases you.

“Do you want me to?”

You frown; something in his chest stings, a chord pulled awry. The tug of your lips is all a ploy, a mesmerizing color to disguise venom, “Don’t you want to, ‘gumi?” you pull away, leaning back with your hands pressed to the mattress below, “Don’t you want me?”

A cold breeze from this stranger’s open window takes up residence across Megumi’s sweltering skin. He hates it. He wants to get up from the bed altogether and slam the window shut. He wants to take you in both hands and sink himself into the softness of your skin. He thinks you’d be savory.

He wants to be certain.

So both of his hands mold to your hips, melting his exposed skin to yours.

Fingers dipping into the waistband of your bottoms, he bats his eyelashes and tucks his lower lip between fangs. He may draw blood. He cares not.

The oxygen is thin; hardly refreshing.

Megumi swallows the pooling want on his tongue, his fingers twitch against you, “Can I- “

“‘gumi…” you flatten yourself onto your back, hips tilting up into his palms, “Show me you want me.”

“Okay,” Megumi nods, air forced out of his throat through swollen hunger, “Okay.”

Once he’s gotten your pants off, Megumi presses open kisses against the inside of your thighs, following the swell to its natural apex. He digs the jab of his nose into you, lips impolitely fluttering against the seat of your panties before dipping his tongue out. Lolling the soft, soaked muscle over the clinging fabric, he feels his chest clench at how you rock your hips down into his face.

He feels one of your hands wind into his messy hair, carding through the softness. He wants to make you tug it - pull cruelly and grind against his face. Take what he gives and selfishly demand more.

Megumi groans heartily into your clothed cunt when the slickness of his saliva pulls your wetness from the cloth; when the unabashed taste of you meets his tongue.

He nearly rips your panties down your legs, settling it in a ball at his side. Heart leaping up into his jaw at the mere thought of getting his tongue into you.

Laving his tongue between your folds, Megumi licks up to your clit and circles the bud - his hips jerking down into the plush mattress when you jolt up and tug his hair. He pulls his head back only to pucker his lips and drool onto your hole, adding to the sloshing wetness before steadying his shaky fingers against you.

Sucking your clit into his mouth, Megumi begins softly. Caressing the bundle of nerves with his warm tongue, blending flat, broad strokes with precision dances of the muscle over you. Meanwhile, he slicks his middle finger into your hole and moans in response to your gasp.

When he’s sure you’re wet and stretched enough, he adds a second finger and curls them both upwards. The muscles in his arm will be aching tomorrow, but he shoves that to the back of his mind. He presses and scissors and dips inside you until the pads of his fingers find sponge, and he hits there, and there again. And again. And again. And again.

He hits there until you’re fully babbling, gushing against his swollen, pink lips and chin. And he’s starting to babble back.

Vibrations are loosely strewn together as ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and ‘cum on me’ are bound against your clit as he nuzzles closer into your heat. Burying himself between your thighs and finding himself releasing a moan into your cunt when your thighs clenched tightly around his head. The fat of your thighs snug over his ears.

Releasing your clit from between his lips with a soft ‘pop’, Megumi flays his tongue onto the exposed nerve. Hot puffs of air leave him with each groan and whimper as his desperation to make you cum hammers over him.

Finally, you yank his hair again and snap your hips into his tongue; cunt sucking his fingers in even deeper. You squeeze around him, back arching, and his name singing from your lips.

Megumi unfurls his fingers as your cum splashes out onto his waiting tongue and chin, riding you through the hurls of pleasure until your twitching legs crash back onto the mattress. Slowly, he slides his fingers out of you before licking up your excess release from the divots in your thighs and your cunt.

Unwinding your fingers, you settle for soothing his stinging scalp with gentle pets.

Eventually sitting up, Megumi gasps for air as you do, staring down at his fingers. Shining with your wetness.

“Still hungry?” you tease, voice ripped at the edges.

“Actually?” Megumi shrugs, “A little.”

The cocky air has dissipated from your body. Once tense and lively limbs were now useless against the bed.

Megumi jams both fingers into his mouth and sucks off your cum.

“Insatiable!” you huff.

Rouge has overtaken Megumi’s cheeks - worse than before - and he can’t meet your eyes after having swallowed what remained of your soak. He leans over onto his elbow to avoid crushing you, “Only when it’s you… I don’t,” he waves his hand around, “do this often…”

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.”

Megumi has to hide his grin, almost embarrassed to enjoy being praised, choosing to take up time looking around the room you’d shoved him into.

Idol posters with one constant member litter the walls. Pink concert tickets cover the desk. And many pictures with the same two people overwhelm Megumi’s sight. He feels an unsettled chill scrawl over his skin.

“Todo is going to kill me,” he grimaces.

“Was it worth it?”

Megumi doesn’t take long to respond, already trying to think of where and when he can get you under him again, “Definitely.”

Megumi’s proper death is drowning via punani tsunami *thumbs up emoji*

#jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #megumi x you #megumi fluff #fushiguro smut #fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen movie marathon event

[codenamesazanka]

more Deku bashing, if you'll forgive me

Seeing lots of shocked tweets and posts that Deku seems so cold and distant about Shigaraki dying in front of him; that Deku doesn't seem to care much at all; that Deku isn't devastated he wasn't able to save that little boy.

I have to point out that Deku never cared in the first place. He really didn't! It's why he needed to see The Crying Child to feel any bit of empathy for Shigaraki, and why ever since then, he only yammers on about saving the Crying Child and only the little boy. He never gave a shit about the Shigaraki in front of him. Never treated Shigaraki like someone real to engage with. That Shigaraki is unforgivable; and it was impossible to have ever bring the Crying Child into reality because the Crying Child was a memory, it happened 15 years in the past that cannot be changed, so all Deku can do is comfort the Crying Child then beat the shit out of Shigaraki.

I mean, just look at the imagery and the word choices:

Are those the words and expressions of someone who's trying to be careful about not hurting Shigaraki? Actually trying to help someone in pain? I remember when people were excited that Danger Sense would tell Shigaraki that Deku doesn't want to hurt him - turns out nah. He was so ready to make Shigaraki throw up blood.

Deku never tried to talk to Shigaraki. He never asked any questions during the whole time they were fighting. Mirio asked a question and got a response; but Deku? Nothing. Even in the memory-realm, when Shigaraki via memory-villains ask Deku what his plan was, Deku just shouted 'No!' and that was that.

When Deku said 'Somewhere inside of you is a person' he literally meant that. Inside of Shigaraki is the Crying Child, who is the actual person. Did he catch Shigaraki saying 'Spinner will be looking forward to this' and think, 'huh, Shigaraki has someone he cares about, I think? Then he wouldn't want to destroy Spinner, would he?' No. The fan-translation got everyone's hopes up that Deku wants to 'shred the rug' of societal failures, but the official translation was correct - Deku wanted to pry the lid off Shigaraki's trauma, accusing Shigaraki of repressing himself.

If he cared about Shigaraki at all, he would've protested when Gran told him he might have to kill Shigaraki. Instead:

He would've opposed the construction of something called a SKY COFFIN DEATH ARENA. He would've spoken up when Heroes talked strategy about how AFO is the better opponent to fight, implying that it's better if AFO had taken over Shigaraki, despite Shigaraki being the victim of AFO here.

Even when he ends up saving Tenko from Decaying the Shimuras, he's utterly lackluster there. Tenko's in tears, saying that he must have wanted to kill his family, he was born with a quirk like Decay, who could ever validate his existence the way he is??? And Deku's response? "Well. Holding my hand might make you feel better. So here." Saying something like, 'No, you're a child! It's not your fault!' or 'Your quirk isn't meant for harm, it can be useful too' or 'It's okay. You're not an evil existence' seems obvious, but Deku doesn't.

and really, all this has been obvious since the Mall Encounter in Chapter 69. Remember when Shigaraki point blank told him that All Might's smile is stupid because he acts like there's no one he can't save? And it's clearly full of resentment? And Deku picked up on this, which is why next chapter he asks All Might if it's true there are times where All Might couldn't save someone.

But once Tsukauchi said, don't worry about it, Deku did just that. When he does think about it one time, it's this absolutely nothing of a reflection

"I guess we just have to agree to disagree!" Come on. And this kid has a 'drive to save that eclipses all common understanding'??? for real?????

Deku has never given a crap about Shigaraki or Villains. Honestly, him wanting to save that sad little boy might as well be just Horikoshi putting lines in his mouth to move the story along.

If Deku really did care, I think he would've wanted to save the entire person that is Shigaraki. The Crying Child is a phantom - Shigaraki is real and solid and there. The Crying Child is innocent and easy to care about because it's a cute baby and it's openly weepy; saving hand-monster junji ito twink Shigaraki who laughs and talks about destroying everything Deku loves would've been an actual challenge. But clearly we couldn't have that because even the Crying Child was too far gone for Deku to save.

#character bashing #warning #nalslastworkingbraincell #again #i'll take it all back if next chapter proves me all wrong #sorry