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soul-controller · 11 months

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The Baseball Team’s Newest Switch-Hitter II

“Hey Craig, did you not hear me?” Seth inquired, trying to get his transformation subject to respond to his previous statement. “You don’t remember being a college sophomore or the fact that we’ve been friends for years? Do you have a concussion or something?”

Sitting there for a moment, Craig tried his best to think about what the other man was saying. Ever since he first stepped foot in Seth’s dorm room, his mind has been struggling to wrap his head around the simple statements that Seth made about him. Although he thought this was just due to his dim-witted nature, the reality of the situation was that Seth was a jock who seemingly had an ability to alter people’s bodies and reality to reflect those changes. Originally stepping foot in this dorm room, Craig had been a 34-year-old average African American man. But due to Seth’s magical words, he had regressed back to 19 and gained significant muscles to turn him into a college jock.

“Oh uh, that… sort of sounds familiar,” Craig said under his breath, unaware of the fact that his memories of his old life were being replaced with the memories of a 19-year-old jock who was best friends with Seth.

“Yeah, that’s right bro, these college exams must be fucking with your head or something, I can’t believe you’d forget something like that!”

Eliciting a deep chuckle, Craig responded to his best friend’s statement. “I guess so, classes are so fucking stupid though dude,” he exclaimed, gritting his teeth as he recalled the fact that he had an 8-page English essay that he still had to do for this pompous asshole named Mr. Reynolds. Although he knew that he wasn’t the smartest student around (he recalled how ever since middle school he was always a student who averaged a C / C- final grade), Craig knew that Reynolds was just being a stubborn old asshole since he was probably just jealous of how popular and hunky he was. Clearly, the man didn’t have the best time in school, so he had to take it out on normal people like Craig just because being sociable and studly came innately for him.

“True, but not all of college is bad right?” Seth continued, breaking the man out of his thoughts while moving over to his mini-fridge and slowly opening it. Upon watching Seth reach into the fridge, Craig observed as the jock pulled out two cans of Guinness beer. “We can party, play sports, get wasted, and fuck absolutely anyone we want. You know what, take a beer and destress dude. You definitely look like you need it,” he said, extending an arm out and offering the drink to the transforming dorm worker.

Although he reached out and took the drink from the jock, Craig couldn’t fight the feeling that drinking in a dorm room was wrong. “Uh, I don’t know dude, I don’t want to get caught by some nosy-ass RA,” he said, looking down at the can and trying to fight his intense urges to crack it open and immediately guzzle it down.

“Now c’mon man, when has the threat of getting caught ever stopped you from drinking some beer? It’s in your Irish veins bro, you can’t resist getting drunk!”

In response, Craig’s mind began to undergo a severe transformation to replace his memories of being brought up in an African American household. With reality twisting and bending to match what Seth said about him, it didn’t take long before Craig’s recollection of his new life emerged. Instead of growing up in rural Alabama, the transforming man was reminded of his status as a Midwesterner that was born and raised in Michigan. Not only that, but this new life had also changed his family until he was now the descendant of some Irish immigrants that moved to the United States in hopes of a better life.

As such, the man’s body began to undergo some severe revamps to match this new identity. Firstly, the man’s skin color began to immediately lighten, starting from the man’s feet and moving up. So as Seth patiently waited for the man’s changes to become visible to him, it wasn’t until the change reached his arms that he was able to witness Craig’s racial change. Within a few minutes, his complexion underwent a severe transformation, growing from a rich brown shade to a nearly pale tone.

Upon finishing up this transformation, two more changes began in tandem: the shift of his facial features and the alterations for every inch of hair that covered his body. As his lips and nose grew narrower and he gained prominent dimples, there was a sudden change in the man’s skull as he gained a more angular jawline that left him looking incredibly masculine. While the changing of his facial features neared its conclusion, every follicle of hair from the man’s head to toes began to shift in shade. Although Craig still maintained a curly hairstyle, the consistency and color shifted until it became a lightly curled ginger-colored head of hair. This lightening in shade continued down through the man’s body as all of his body hair and facial hair lightened to turn him into a red-blooded Irish man.

Despite how his entire mind and body was altering under Seth’s phrasing, Craig believed that nothing was amiss with himself. Instead, he recalled his friend’s last sentence and tried his best to formulate a response. “Oh uh, you’re totally right bro. I could drink you under a table with ease,” he jeered, allowing one of his wide hands to slap the brunette on his thinner shoulders while the other hand used its fingers to finally crack open the beer can. Continuing to smirk at Seth, Craig gripped onto the beer can and took a long swig of beer, smiling as he savored the alcoholic flavor as it flowed down his throat.

“Yeah, it’s no wonder why you’re the biggest party animal on the entire baseball team dude,” Seth responded, returning Craig’s physical contact with his own slapping of the ginger’s broad shoulders. But as Seth continued to chuckle and wait for the man to embrace his new identity of a baseball jock, his smile began to falter as the ginger suddenly began to hyperventilate.

Upon hearing the concept of becoming a star player on the baseball team, Craig’s personality rushed back to prominence in his mind given just how far of a leap Seth had attempted to change him. Craig didn’t have an athletic bone in his body, so the concept of playing professional sports in college rather than some intramural activity for fun was a literal shock to his system. But while this was shocking in and of itself, Craig was understandably in awe as he looked down at his right hand and noted the beer can that was squeezed around his now pale and ginger-haired arms. “Uh what the fuck is happening to me, Mr. Lewis?” he cried out, immediately setting down the beer can on top of the mini-fridge and observing his now-Caucasian limbs.

Needing to act fast, Seth tried his best at attempting to get the man back under his magical suggestion. Obviously he couldn’t let the dorm worker escape the room and reveal his abilities, so Seth needed to finish the transformation as quickly as possible. “Uh Nolan, why are you calling me by my last name? We’re literally best friends, that’s why we’re rooming together. Don’t you remember meeting on the baseball team back when you were a freshman and me complimenting you on your batting average? You’re literally one of the best players on the team!”

Although in his mind Craig tried his best to remain in control and flee from this trashy dorm room, Seth’s power was too overbearing for him to prevent. No matter how many mental barriers he tried to put up to prevent the jock from completely erasing his identity, Seth was able to easily destroy them and alter the man’s mind as he saw fit. So as he felt his identity begin to lose dominance in his mind, Craig forced his eyes shut and tried to envision his family one last time before everything faded to black.

With the ginger-haired jock’s mind now completely empty, the lack of control caused his body to immediately tumble back and fall into the clothing-covered bed that he had once been sitting on. But this didn’t last for long though, as the identity of Nolan O’Connor began to quickly fill up the empty noggin. Just like Seth, Nolan was another cocky jock who loved nothing more than flaunting his muscles, flirting with any woman he met, taunting any dweeb or fag that dared to look at him longer than he liked, and being a lazy slob of a human being.

Speaking of flaunting his muscles, this became especially clear to Seth as the unconscious man’s clothing began to shift before his eyes. The tattered dress shirt that he wore faded away in seconds, leaving nothing but the man’s shirtless torso for the magically-gifted jock to ogle at. The most severe change came to his pants though as the khaki fabric shortened and changed consistency and color until they became a mesh pair of blacked athletic shorts. Continuing to look at the man’s shifting shorts though, Seth was suddenly finding himself realizing that the man was wearing no underwear as he could make out the outline of Nolan’s cock through the mesh holes.

As the new jock’s mind began to finalize its transformation, the dorm room underwent a few slight moderations to better fit in with this new reality. Posters of nearly nude Playboy models quickly appeared on his wall, while the closet was filled with a slew of tank tops and other athletic wear. However, Nolan’s bed also found a few more sweaty clothes manifest on top of the comforter, with the odor of one of those rancid articles of clothing causing the brand-new jock to finally re-awaken and sit up.

“Fuck dude, how long was I out for? I don’t even remember falling asleep,” Nolan grumbled as he stretched out his arms. As he went through a deep yawn, his closed eyes made him oblivious to his new roommate’s poor attempt at keeping a straight face.

“Oh uh, not long at all man. We were just having some drinks until you passed out during our chat about school,” Seth responded, licking his lips in delight as he watched the ginger-haired jock finally sit up and naturally grab his half-drunk beer can off the top of the mini-fridge. Before Seth could say a single thing towards the jock, he instinctively chugged the remainder of the drink before crushing the metal can with his thick and meaty hand and tossing it across the room into a trashcan.

“Goddamn bro, that shit was good,” Nolan purred, patting his stomach for a moment before abruptly stopping. Out of nowhere, the room was suddenly rocked with a loud belch as Nolan smirked to himself. Although most of his friends struggled to carry their liquor, the ginger-haired jock was infamous for being able to drink countless beers and still not feel even the slightest hint of a buzz. While he was sure that his descendants weren’t happy to see that his Irish genes were so beneficial in this regard, Nolan felt no desire to really be an outstanding individual.

He was a self-proclaimed idiot, so the only reason why he was even at college at all was due to his immense talent with baseball. He was a great batter and even more impressive when it came to working the outfield, so it wasn’t a shock that he was able to get a full-ride scholarship to this college despite his barely passing grades.

Upon moving back towards the bed, Nolan felt no inner desire to not be himself around his best friend and teammate Seth. As such, it was no surprise for either of them as Nolan instinctively reached his hand behind him and then underneath the waistband of his shorts as he squinted his face and began to scratch his ass.

Throughout the entire experience, Seth couldn’t resist chuckling as he watched his creation behave just like he envisioned him to. Despite being a fairly athletic guy due to being on the baseball team, the brunette jock wasn’t the most popular individual around. So, when that worker came in to remove him from the dorm, Seth wasn’t afraid of leaning into his family's gift of altering bodies and reality to get rid of the man while also giving himself a hunky best friend. In fact, with this new friend and roommate, new memories informed Seth about just how great Nolan was at being a wingman. With that hunky ginger jock there to help him sweet talk the various women he met at college parties, there was barely a night that went by without both of them returning to the dorm with a woman that they each eagerly fucked for several hours.

But despite their obvious attraction towards the opposite sex, Seth’s status as a closeted bisexual had also altered reality to make Nolan a dumb himbo who was willing to fuck or be fucked by anyone he deemed attractive enough. In this new reality, Nolan viewed Seth as the most attractive man he had ever seen. Numerous memories of Nolan eagerly pleasuring or being pleasured by Seth filled both of their minds, so much so that it didn’t take long before both men were instantly sporting throbbing boners as they continued to make small talk and look at each other.

“Hey bro,” Seth said with a mischievous grin, “how about you come over here and take care of your roomie?”

Upon hearing such an appealing concept, Nolan couldn’t resist flashing a dopey grin before eagerly standing up and making his way over to his roommate. As Seth reached out his hands and began to rub along the ginger’s ripped abs and pecs, Nolan looked down and bit his lip as he reveled in the man’s touch. Although he was most certainly no fag, Nolan couldn’t deny that he enjoyed spending such intimate time with Seth. Luckily, Seth said “no homo” before every time they interacted, so Nolan’s conscience was cleared from any inner torment as he remained blissfully content with his status as a womanizing heterosexual.

In fact as Seth stood up and unzipped his pants, that sacred mantra was once again repeated as he allowed his underwear and pants to fall to his ankles and reveal his average-sized cock to Nolan. Before Nolan even had time to respond, Seth reached up towards the man’s head and firmly gripped into the man’s curly ginger locks. “Be a good boy and take care of me first,” Seth sensually demanded, giving Nolan a slight wink as he pushed him down to his knees to let him immediately get to work. Although it would only take a few minutes before Seth came and shot his load down Nolan’s overeager throat, the moment would feel like an eternity for Seth as he tried to savor every second. To his relief though, this wasn’t all of the fun that the two of them would have though, because as soon as they cleaned up they’d be dressing up and heading out to another college party before finding some gorgeous cheerleaders for each of them to bring back to the dorm and fuck. Then from every day after this until their graduation in the next few years, this process would continue for Seth and his brand new switch-hitter…

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#racial change #mental changes #reality shift #Sexuality change #male transformation

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stainedstardom · 1 year

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Chad x reader where the reader is stressing about school (me fr) and Chad makes them take a break and just some cute fluff cause we love softie Chad!!

softie chad is the best chad because he's so cutesy and so bf. so nonnie thank you for this. also I'm listening to a chad playlist while I write this 🤭

STUDY BREAK

chad meeks martin x reader!!

you had been staring at the screen for the past five hours trying to understand this assignment but you mentally couldn't. how did mr.taylor expect you to understand this.

i mean its english, pure english but he wants you to explain why he did what he did and what the future is too hold in a 1000 word essay when you could say it in 200 words max. you didn't get it, it was also the fact that you hadn't even gotten to that point of the story yet.

it was now 11;30 pm and you were tried. chad laid on your bed as he stared at you. sometimes he liked to stare at you, watch you work, see the way you concentrated but now he just saw how you were struggling and he didn't like it.

"how long have you been staring at that screen for?" chads voice broke you out of the trance you had been in.

"not that long" you lied easily through your teeth.

"liar, be honest" he said and you groaned out.

"like five hours but this is due tomorrow and I don't fucking get it. i mean its english i should understand but i got nothing" you told him and he softly cooed.

"alright baby, well you need a break so come here" he said and he opened his arms. you didn't fight against him, you stood up and walked over as he pulled you down into his lap and ran his hands up and down your back.

"im proud of you , ya know. you're truly trying and no matter how hard it gets for you, you still try" he said into your neck as he kissed it up and down. you sighed

"its just too much" you told him and he nodded.

"i know baby but im here for you, you need breaks and you get breaks" he stated as he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose and then your lips.

"cuddle me, i miss you" he said on your lips as he fell back on the bed and you fell with him. he wrapped his arms around you as he held you close and you listened to his heartbeat. it felt good, nice. you didn't want to move.

"go to sleep babe, you need it" he whispered into your ear and you fell asleep. sure you needed to finish the assignment but this felt nicer and better.

all you needed was a study break

a/n: hes so cutie

#chad meeks martin angst #chad meeks martin x you #chad meeks martin x y/n #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin #mason gooding #scream 6 smut #scream #scream fanfic #scream 6

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roadkill-writes · 2 years

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Princess

Pairing | Eddie Munson x reader

Word count | 1.9k / 5.3 pages

Warnings | ooc Eddie, drug use, my bad writing lmao and also the fact that I didn’t proof read this before posting it

Character: Eddie Munson

Everyone knew that both (Y/n) and Eddie hated each other and have for as long as anyone could remember. No one exactly knew the reason why but most people speculated it’s because she’s a cheerleader and because Eddie is well just Eddie ‘the freak’ Munson known for hating all the preps and populars and for playing D&D with the so called Hellfire club. Neither would be caught dead with each other.

Walking through the halls of Hawkins high dawned in your cheerleading uniform, hair done and makeup on saying hello and making small talk with everyone you walked past making your way towards your last period English class. Continuing your way down the hall you heard it before you saw him, the grating voice of one and only ‘The Freak’ Munson, thinking he was better than everyone, boy was he wrong.

Eddie turned enough from his locker to catch the rude glare of (y/n) as she walked by just before she knocked her shoulder against his knocking him back a bit into his locker. “Watch where you’re standing next time freak!” (Y/n) spit as she went on her marry way to class. Eddie only sucked his teeth and shook his head watching as she walked away muttering something under his breathe that none of his friends around him seemed to catch.

English class one of your favorites, you weren’t a straight A student by any means you got a few B’s every now and then but English class was your strong suit wether it be public speaking or even essays you excelled greatly at it. So it was no surprise to anyone, even your teacher Mr.Hothman, that you zone off all period until the bell rang. The ringing of the bell shook you of your wondering thoughts moving to collect your things off of your desk , you stayed seated in your desk letting everyone pass you of course saying your goodbye’s to your friends in the class as they begin flying home or to their extra curricular activities, you had cheer practice after school but were very conflicted about either wanting to go or getting some much needed peace.

Finally standing up from your seat slinging your book bag over your shoulder and making your way out of the classroom, down the hall and to your locker spinning in the combination on your lock and pulling down to hear that familiar click you pulled out your little metal lunch box that contains your “stress reliever” and the remainder of the few books that you had left in there to help decrease the weight you had to lug around in your bag all day. Putting them into your book bag, you closed and locked up your locker and headed down the mostly empty halls to head out to the parking lot where your beloved car was sitting it was a Ford Escort Mk2, a gift from your dad a few years back, the beautiful cherry red that shines even at night.

Unlocking your drivers side door tossing your bag into the your passenger seat keeping a hold on your lunch box, you stood for a moment at the drivers side door you didn’t quite feel like going to cheer practice and you definitely didn’t feel like going home to get asked why you didn’t go to practice so you proceeded to shut and lock the door before heading towards the far side of the school for a walk through the woods because, seriously what could go wrong? I mean besides the mall fire that happened last summer and the weird disappearances of kids last year, you shook off the thought and continued into the woods.

The breeze danced through the leaves on the trees, you were happy you decided to wear a light jacket today if not you might have been a bit chilled. But nether the less it was beautiful out and quiet something you couldn’t ask more of, high school was always loud and obnoxious and so was the constant fighting from your parents so this almost silence was extremely needed for you. Everyone thought your life was picture perfect, perfect family, perfect house, perfect everything but that was a façade nothing in life was perfect not even you. Just like most people in life you had your demons which is the exact reason why you started smoking weed, a relaxer if you will something to cloud and fog over the constant noise that you had going through your head.

Stopping at a fallen over log you stop a seat down on it to open up your lunch to retrieve the joint you had pre rolled that morning and your lighter. Lighting the joint and tossing your lighter back into its metal prison before going back on your way through the woods at the slow steady pace so slow you’re almost dragging your feet taking small drags of your joint the whole way. That slow pace got you to your little smoke spot a little quicker than you had anticipated it would but seeing as it it seemed as it was already preoccupied by someone you stopped dead in your tracks just beyond the tree line and tried to see who it was. As you couldn’t make out who it was you started to make your walk over to see who it was finally just a few feet away it seems that they have yet to feel your presence you finally were able to figure out who exactly it was.

“Munson, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me I can’t have one place to myself in this damn school!” Eddie looked as if he almost got whip lash from how fast he turned around watching you stomp your foot down like a child. His eyes darted from your face down to your hand that held your joint and back up to meet your face, you quickly and desperately tried to hide it behind your back with no avail.

“Oh look who it is, Little miss princess holding a- spliff?” You watched him begin to form a smile no much more like a smirk. “ Shut your mouth Munson! Don’t you have some freak suicide pack to perform?” You spit angrily, you hated the nickname he decided so graciously to bless you with.

“Smoking out here so mommy and daddy don’t find out, it’s honestly quite cute don’t ya think? Don’t want any more trouble at home do you?” He chuckled, and you began to turn red his words were beginning to really get under your skin no one was supposed to know so how in the hell did he found out about your home life?

Not a word came out of your mouth you just stared at him and continued to smoke the joint because you definitely weren’t going to let that go to waste. “Exactly what I thought (y/l/n). I knew princess wasn’t as big and scary as she thinks she is walking down the halls using that fake smile and short skirt to drive everyone mad.” He muttered something else that you did quite catch while rolling his eyes just before looking back to you. You proceeded to walk over and have a seat at the table putting your metal lunch box parallel to his taking the seat in from of him this was the only place where you thought you could be alone but seems now even this has been ruined.

“Don’t act like you’re any better Eddie, seriously you live at the trailer park and drive that beat up van to school everyday and do you even have a job?” You had questioned, still angry but not as furious as you were a moment ago, while flicking the ashes of your joint off the side of the table, it was almost completely burnt out so you flicked the cherry out and stored it back into the captive prison of your lunch box.

“I know your mom moved out and who do you think you get your weed from?” Gesturing to you and your lunch box with the joint that magically seemed to appear in his hand.

“My mom didn’t move out so zip it Munson.” You answered almost calmly. How the hell did he know?

”To answer my own question, you get it from Jeremy McCoy who in turn gets it from me.” You shook your head trying to comprehend what he had just said as you were in fact stoned which could only mean Eddie was telling the truth, Jeremy McCoy was an idiot jock on the football team who couldn’t tell good weed apart from old broccoli.

“Do you know how much he’s been charging me for that? He tried telling me he’s giving me a discount because I’m cool with Carver. Double my allowance I’ll tell you!” You we’re quite honestly bewildered. “You know you talk a lot with your hands while stoned right?” He somehow managed to ask between a fit a chuckles. His laugher had brought a smile to your face which you hadn’t noticed. His was able to finally calm his chuckling to catch the look on your face.

“Woah.”

“What?”

“Nothing just you have a pretty smile that’s all.” He seemed to have finished his joint a while ago while you guys were going back and forth because he was in the middle of lighting another one. You swished your hand back and forth, “Buzz off Munson.”

“No I’m serious.” He leaned his hand forward joint between his fingers holding it out to you, the look on your was was almost dumbfounded but you took it from his hands and took a few hits before handing it back to him. “Maybe you aren’t as bad as as I thought Munson.”

After sitting together which seemed like eight joints ago it was now dark and very much time to go home the two of you both had gotten up, collected your things and made the truck back out towards the schools parking lot. Most of the walk was in silence nothing really the noice of your lunch boxes and the sound of Eddie’s wallet change smacking off of the metal, you couldn’t take it much longer about how he knew so much about your home life so you mustered up the guts and broke it.

“Hey Eddie?” The words barely sounded as if they left your mouth it was almost a whisper. “Yeah?” He returned back in a low tone. “How do you know so much about me?”

He paused mid step, slowing turning his head towards you. “Uh right, she lives next door I see her now and then. She’s a real nice lady I’m sorry for bringing that up earlier.” The sound of his voice getting lower as she finished out the sentence. “Oh- yeah I’m sorry too really I am.“ Neither of you said a word the rest of the way back until you had gotten to the parking lot where you both had split to go separate was to your vehicles. Making it all the way up to your car door before you managed to speak again. “ Hey Eddie thanks for for tonight!” You shouted from the opposite end of the parking lot at him while waving your hand in the air as to say goodbye.

“Any time princess!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #Eddie Munson X reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things season 4 #eddie munster #eddie the freak munson #princess #eddie the banished #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #x reader fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

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kirishoshego · 3 years

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Confidental Composition//Bakugo

!!!MINORS DNI!!! 18+ONLY !!!

This is the first part of my little 'Teachers Pet Series' (I will add the link once I got all parts covered and the right ideas).

Summary: A simple task fucked up late at night as you send the wrong version of a piece of homework to your English literature teacher Mister Bakugo. Of course, he would want to see you after class the next day. But not for the reasons you might think. Pairing: Docent!Bakugo x afab!student!y/n // Words: 4.2k+ Side note: Insert a friend or random name you want for X :)

TW: nsfw: slow burn (sorry), spanking with a ruler, hair pulling, being bend over a desk, calling him sir, spitting, choking, dirty talk, degrading, slight praise

„Write an essay about the worst description of a woman or coitus. In the essay, explain why it is bad and then rewrite it. At least 30 pages, max. 60 pages (sources and any other extras you please to include, excluded). Due Date: 8 weeks from now on, 35% worth of your end grade. Questions can be asked per E-Mail, or, if you must, I’m free every Wednesday afternoon for meetings strictly for this essay and this essay only.“

A sigh left your lips as you starred at the piece of paper for the tenth time today ever since he handed it out to you and your classmates. The options you had were endless, you knew so many bad pieces about both topics and could write more than 100 pages about them as well. Everyone in class you talked to had decided on their topic already, some were even further. It was X who told you to just write the topics on a piece of paper and let fate do its work.

Black ink on a badly ripped blue note decided that you were going to write about a sex scene. Just now that you thought about it, rewriting something like that for your professor to read was an awfully stupid idea, yet you decided to listen to a small piece of paper.

At first, you were going to go with Fifty Shades of Grey but you felt like the choice was chewed up and spat out. It took you three days to finally decide on a book and once you settled there was no turning back. Considering your ignited interest in this topic you weren’t surprised when you were done within the first four weeks. Knowing the editing is going to take another week, maybe even a week and a half, you decided to take a small break, just one or two days off. On your second day, you decided to visit the new coffee shop that had just opened up around the corner.

Never had you expected to see your professor near your living spot. You were about to greet him when you noticed his pissed-off expression on his face and only now did you spot the woman behind him. She grabbed his arm and made him turn on the relatively small and empty street.

„Suki you can’t be serious,“ she was angry and hurt, while he seemed to be angry and annoyed. Not much of a difference than to how you see him on the daily, to be honest. „Are you fucking stupid? Of course, I’m fucking god damn serious. It was your choice to cheat on me and now I choose to throw you on the streets where you apparently belong, go ask one of your little boy toys to take you in for all I care,“ you were frozen in place, not entirely sure what to do. Right now your eyes were glued on his chest that was clad in a tight, black pullover, rising up and down heavily as his nostrils were flared caused by his anger. „Because you gave me no choice! If you like that sort of weird, rough shit then paddle your own canoe! I need something soft and tender-,“ before she could finish her sentence he laughed. Cold and slightly maniac in a way.

„Then get some fucking chicken! If you don’t like how I’m in bed then break up with me and piss off but don’t send my best friend a nude to ask him to come over. Even a ten-year-old would see how stupid that is,“at that moment your eyes met. His eyebrows were furled together, red eyes expression furry and disgust. Blond hair usually styled like he was going to be on the cover of Vogue, like he had been before, now slightly messy. Plump lips slightly apart to let his teeth shine through slightly before wetting them with his tongue. Your eyes widened and before you knew what you were doing you waved at him, making him cock his eyebrows in confusion for a second before noticing it was you who he was looking at. Turning on your heels you walked past busy crowds of people as you walked back home, trying to understand what you had just seen and why your angry professor had turned you on more than anyone had done before.

It was a stupid idea to ditch the next teaching unit of his but you had absolutely no clue how you were going to look at him. You knew teachers had a private life themselves, but never would you have guessed that you would run into one of them in your small area. As far as you knew he lived across town according to the very, very few private stories he had shared in magazines.

„Dear Professor,

down below is my finished project as an attachment in form of a PDF. I know you request it to be printed as well and I had planned to hand it in today, but sadly I came down with the flu. I’m looking forward to attending your next unit in the following week.

Have a nice week,

Y/N Y/L/N“

Maybe he had forgotten that you were there already and you were worrying too much about it. You were his student, nothing more, nothing less. Bakugo could care less about you, right? The flu did go around a lot right now, so it wouldn’t be completely unthinkable that you were sick. Itching eyes signaled you that it was time to go to bed now, so you closed your laptop and went to bed, not knowing what the next day will hold for you.

X had waited for you at the main entrance the next day to give you all the information you might need and ask why you weren’t there, considering it was obvious that you had the flu for one day only. At first, you were hesitant to explain what you had witnessed, it was messy already and you doubt Mister Bakugo would want the fight to go viral at his workplace. „Just one of those days you know? I had my mind completely full and felt like crap,“ that was the best excuse you could come up with, a white little lie that wouldn’t harm anyone. „Glad to see you’re doing- Oh, hello Professor,“ X smiled at someone behind you. There was no need to turn around to know who it was, the scent of his very expensive and extremely beguiling perfume clouding your mind. „Hello,“ his gruff voice greeted your friend shortly as you turned around, met with his muscular chest. You didn’t expect him to be so close to you, but here you were, tilting your head slightly as you looked up to him through your lashes, feeling not just your cheeks growing hot. „Good morning Sir,“ your voice sounded a lot more confident than you were feeling. Bakugo clenched his fist around the fake leather of his bag, his red eyes starring right into your soul as you had no chance of escaping whatever was going to happen next. „Miss Y/L/N, just the person I was looking for,“ fuck. „You were?“ X and you said at the same time, but your friend decided to excuse themself after a single glare from the older man. „How may I help you, Professor?“ You asked after swallowing down the anxious feeling that threatened to rise. „I received your Mail yesterday, with the PDF,“ okay, why did he search you just to tell you he got your assignment? Was it that bad? „But I’m relatively sure that it was the wrong one, considering I doubt that you want your teacher to know that 'this shit is so bad, but I wouldn’t mind being bent over a writing desk like that' with a smirking emoji at the end,“ only when his finger pushed your chin upwards gently you noticed that it was agape, shame filling every molecule in your body as you already planned your escape out of this country. Nobody was near you to see the weirdly intimidating scene happening between you and your teacher.

„Also I know you didn’t have the flu. I don’t appreciate being lied to. Tomorrow five p.m. in my office, don’t be late or you will get in more trouble. Send me the actual version tonight so I can grade it. I won’t let something as unprofessional as this slide again, understood?“ You nodded, taking in all of the information given to you, and somewhat in all of this mess felt thankful that he was giving you a second chance. The man in front of you rolled his eyes and clicked his tongue, ordering you to speak up. „Yes Sir, thank you,“ you sounded more confident than you felt inside. „Good,“ was all Bakugo said before he turned around, leaving you behind in the big hall dumbfounded and confused… And horny.

As if Chronos himself felt immense joy in your misery, minutes appeared to be hours and the panic inside of you only grew the closer you came to five in the afternoon. You tried everything, watching a show, listening to podcasts and audiobooks, reading a book you had put of for so long, went outside, cooked something, worked on another assignment, stopped yourself from destroying your hair, made the phone call you so desperately had put off and it’s still only ten p.m on the same day. How was that even possible? As you laid in bed you tossed and turned, the thought of your really hot teacher all angry, breathing heavily, his hands roaming your body. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when those thoughts turned into a very lucid dream, but when you woke up in the morning, already an hour too late to your first period, all you wanted to do was scream into your pillow.

Considering first class is canceled, you wanna go grab breakfast? X texted you.

Canceled? Checking your mails you saw your teacher had sent out a mail, excusing themselves and explaining they came down with the flu. A blessing in disguise. You let X know that you would meet up at the building and go grab something near it. Once agreed, you took a quick shower, a moment of peace given to you as water hit your body. There was no way you could do anything between your last class and the meeting with Professor Bakugo, so you tried to look your best possible for the next upcoming hours.

Suddenly time flew by and the closer you got the more you begged for a little bit more time, for him to postpone it, anything. But no, here you were, five minutes early and looking around to spot the blond man with no luck. „Miss Y/L/N. Step inside,“ you jumped slightly as his voice boomed up behind you, not expecting him to be in the office already.

Once you walked inside you were stunned about how clean everything was, no matter where you looked it was neat. His books were sorted alphabetically with marks between them to let him know when a new letter began. As far as you could tell he used cherry wood for his pieces of furniture, a big, black carpet in a corner underneath a small seating area, and some books placed on the table. Even his paperwork was stacked in order. Big glass windows allowed the evening sun to fall into the room, its warmness kissing your skin while you were seated in front of him, a big writing desk between the two of you, on it your work.

It was quiet for a short moment, before he leaned back in his chair, red eyes mustering you up and down which didn’t help at all. „What would you like to talk about first? Your assignment or the fact that you lied to me?“ Why was he so bothered by your lie? You knew plenty of students calling in sick every once in a while even though they aren’t. „I apologize for both of it. It shouldn’t have happened and I learned from my mistake,“ you were hoping that it would ease his anger a little bit but he seemed more worked up than usual. „Although I don’t understand why you are so angry at me for it? Plenty students lie-,“ „Yes, but they aren’t stupid enough to make it so obvious,“ he interrupted you. „I could care less about who’s missing my class, it’s their fault in the end if they decide learning is unnecessary. However you are one of my top students, I expected better from you. You could have excused yourself with no explanation. But you chose to add the feeble lie about being sick for what?“

You took in a deep breath, feeling as if another lie would be caught immediate, so you had no other choice but to tell him the real reason: „I heard the fight you had with the woman you were with, in the café, and I didn��t know how to react when I see you in your class,“ there was a small moment where he looked honestly confused before something clicked in his brain. „So it was you who I saw. What did you hear?“ „I can’t really rem-,“ „One more lie and I will lose my temper, don’t test me,“ shit, why was he turning you on so much right now. He’s your teacher for god’s sake and angry at you, this wasn’t the right time. „That she doesn’t agree with certain things in your private life,“ „Like?“ he knew you tried to talk around it, yet he wanted you to talk about, to see you embarrassed again, he liked that look on you. „The way you fuck,“ it was said before your brain could even comprehend the words, another apology laying at the tip of your tongue but his next question cut you off before you could say something else. „Why were you there in the first place? I’ve been there a few times and never saw you or any other student,“ he explained. „Because I live close by?“ It sounded more defiantly than you had wanted, causing your opponent to cock his eyebrow.

„I feel like you’re forgetting who’s the authority figure here,“ he walked up to his door, locking it before coming back. Now he was right in front of you, slightly sitting on his desk and the sleeves of his button-up shirt pushed up a little. „No sir, I’m sorry,“ „You see, the problem is, I don’t really believe you,“ with that he pulled you up, bodies pressed against each other, letting you feel his toned torso while the muscles in his arms flexed slightly.

„You lied to me once already, I think I have to teach you a lesson,“ everything happened so fast and you suddenly found yourself face down on his desk with his hand between your shoulder blades, the other one grabbing his wooden ruler. „If I recall correctly this is what you wanted right?“ His voice was low, slightly above a whisper as his upper body was pressed against your back while he pulled a few hair strands from your face. „Yes, but Professor I don’t think this is a good idea,“ your inner voice yelled at you, saying this was the best idea ever, angry that you possibly ruined your dreams coming true.

„Tell me to stop and I will do so immediately. Your choice. There will be no consequences if you worry about that,“ he reassured you, waiting for you to get up and run, but you didn’t and the current position allowed him to feel you clench your legs. „So?“ He asked again, the ruler in his hand basically burning with the anticipation of hitting your skin. „No, don't stop,“ you breathed, awaiting his next move.

„Good,“ with that he exposed your raised ass, your underwear the only thing between your bare skin and the wood that came down upon it, one foot raising in the air because of the sudden pain. „From now on if you say stop I won’t listen, you will tell me how you feel through colors. If it’s too much you tell me red and I will drop everything, understood?“ Another spank was delivered to the same spot.

„Yes,“ another one. You weren’t sure if he hit harder or if your skin turned more sensitive with every blow.

„It’s sir to you,“ you could feel him lunge out but shortly before the ruler came down he stoped, laughing slightly at your small jump.

„Yes sir,“ another one.

„You’re going to apologize every time my ruler paints your cute ass even redder, got it?“ You nodded your head, a moan escaping the back of your throat as he spanked you yet again.

„One more thing, be a good girl and stay quiet, wouldn’t wanna get caught now do we?“ He knew it was going to be torture for you to follow his order the more he continued and in a way he wanted you to fail. There was so much build-up inside of him and it appears that you were willing enough for him to use you as he pleased. That’s why you were his favorite. Bakugo knew what he was doing was wrong and he never expected to feel this way for one of his students but forbidden fruit tastes the best.

You stopped counting after the seventh blow, sorries, sirs and small whimpers fall from your lips as if they were your whole vocabulary. At one point you started crying, tears mixed with mascara running down your cheeks. He tried to remember something that turned him on more than the sight of your messed-up body with no luck. Everything build up inside of him, everything itching in his hands, the inner desires he had to soften for his ex, it all was going to come down on you. His thick girth twitched at the simple thought of finally being surrounded by your dripping wet cunt.

A warm soft hand rubbed over your bruised flesh while the other one found its way into your hair to pull you up to him, your back arched.

„What are you sorry for?“ Your mind was clouded with pleasure and pain, the only thought right now was the feeling of his dick print right between your sore cheeks. „I asked my little bitch a question, I expect you to fucking answer,“ this time he spanked you with his hand but it was just as intense as his ruler. „I don’t know,“ you breathed, a soft moan slipping out of you when his thumb barely circled your throbbing clit. „You’re just apologizing because you want me to use you?“ You could hear him chuckle lowly before he pushed your underwear to the side, his middle finger now playing with you. „Yes sir,“ Katsuki couldn’t hear a single ounce of shame in your voice and he wondered how long you had been thinking about him like this before.

„I never expected you to be such a dumb, cock hungry whore,“ The sound of his belt hitting the floor was dull like it was far away from you but at the same time, you felt him closer than before. Strong hands around your waist turned you around and once again he lifted your head with his finger underneath your chin, studying your ruined make-up as if he was memorizing every little detail he never wanted to forget. The blond, muscular man lifted you with ease, your behind getting a small moment of cooling as it hit his wooden desk.

Bakugo dried your tears slightly with his thumb, smearing it even more. „Only for you,“ you whispered and in that moment he couldn’t stop himself, he just had to kiss you. Not sweet and gentle, but passionately and hungry, like he was poisoned and your kiss was the antidote. The hand behind your head traveling to the front as you were laid down completely.

„If I had known before I would have fucked you so much sooner,“ with one hard thrust he was buried deep inside of you, one hand over your mouth because he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep quiet and the other one around your throat, squeezing shut and watching you struggle against it slightly. Your professor was thicker than what you were used to and you didn’t know how good it would feel until now. With the first few snaps of his hips, you knew you never wanted to feel something else anymore.

Your hands went to his arms and you tugged on them, causing him to let go as the blood found its way back to your brain. „Color?“ he asked, afraid you weren’t able to handle him. „Green,“ was all you could get out before another moan cut off your ability to talk.

„Good girl,“ he whispered into your ear, kissing down from your earlobe to your shoulder before sucking on a rather sensitive spot. Both of your wrists were held over your head with his left hand, with the explanation that he doesn’t appreciate being stopped while using you however he pleased. The right hand was going from between your chest after he admired your bouncing tits thoroughly, to your stomach to connect with your most sensitive bundle of nerves. Bakugo switched from circles to eights, from fast to slow, but the harshness of his hips never haltered.

„I know you wanna scream right now, but I can’t allow that. Can’t let others hear what a dirty slut you are for me right now. I promise I will fuck you in my house if you behave now. You can moan my name as much as you want. Or maybe I will gag you, watch you drool all over yourself. Maybe I will tie you up and edge you for an hour straight until you’re begging me to fuck you, you like the sound of that, huh? I can feel you squeezing around me,“ another chuckle left his plump lips as he watched you struggle to stay up on your feet.

„Maybe I will let you choke on my dick while I work on something for the next lesson. Gonna use you as my little cum dump. Let you think about it again when I talk about it in front of the whole class. Do-,“ you were so close when a sudden knock on the door startled you both, but he never once stopped what he was doing, if anything he went even harder, whispering into your ear to be quiet for him.

„Hey Kat, your ex is outside and says she wants to talk, want me to send her in?“ It was the psychologist professor Shinso, his voice as done and deep as usual. „No, I’m occupied,“ Bakugo saw your mouth open after you fought so hard against it, he couldn’t let you moan, not right now. He did the first thing he could think of, spitting into it and watching you swallow. Oh, he would definitely film you do this with his cum covering you everywhere and the thought brought him slightly closer to his release. „Still grading papers huh? I don’t get where you got all of that energy from,“ his voice was blurred out by Bakugo whispering into your ear. „Do you want me to tell you what we're doing right now? Let him know I’m fucking my little toy stupid right now?“ And while you were shaking your head no it was the last straw for you and you found yourself grabbing his hand to put over your mouth, biting your lips until you tasted blood to muffle the scream you couldn’t stop. Bakugo cursed under his breath when he could feel you throbbing around his dick and your nails digging into his arm. „Tell her to leave me the fuck alone, she’s already forgotten,“ his voice sounded strained and you knew he was close as well. „Ah, I see. Well then have fun,“ his laugh was fading away the further he went.

„Can’t believe that made you cum, you’re even more perfect than I thought, such a dirty girl, tsk,“ both his hands are on your hips and he pulled your body against him with every thrust. You were still coming down from your orgasm when you felt his thrusts turning sloppy before he stopped completely, his dick now pulsing while he was holding you tightly. Breath uneven and getting stable on his feet again he turned you around, careful so he wouldn’t hurt you.

„Next time I gonna make sure you can’t walk but right now I need you to be able to leave the building,“ he pulled his pants back up and added: „Sadly,“ before walking around his desk.

It was still hard for you to stand so you sat down, wincing as the usually soft cushion now felt like thousand of tiny spikes on your bruised ass. Before you pull your bottoms up again he grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, once again with a stern expression on his face you were so familiar with.

„I apparently really fucked you stupid if you think I let you leave like this,“ having him put cooling cream on your bare bum felt more intimate than having him be balls deep inside you. „Sorry I just thought-,“ „Well, you thought wrong. I don’t know what kind of boys you had in the past but now that you have me there are going to be changes, got that?“

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captainsophiestark · 2 years

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Trust Me

Matt Donovan x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: The Vampire Diaries/The Originals

Prompt: "Is that fake blood? Please tell me that's fake blood." "That's real blood..."

Summary: Matt and Y/N have been dating for a few years, through all the ups and downs of Mystic Falls and, later, Whitmore. Their relationship almost didn't survive Y/N being turned into a vampire, but through some miracle (and a lot of love and hard work), they managed to stay together. They're still working through the different challenges that come with their new relationship, however, and every so often something new comes along to threaten the stability they're fighting for.

Word Count: 1,716

Category: Angst, fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

I walked with my head down, trying to find my phone in the absolute mess I called a purse. I was supposed to meet my boyfriend, Matt Donovan, ten minutes ago at the Whitmore Halloween party, but I'd been working on an essay with my phone completely turned off and totally lost track of the time. Fortunately, Matt knew enough other Whitmore students that I knew he'd be fine, but I still felt bad.

I told him I was on my way, then sprinted out of the house. I'd been so tempted to use my vampire speed, but I didn't want anyone to see me, so I managed to keep myself in check. Caroline, Elena, and I were trying to live normal college lives, and nothing got in the way of that like outing yourself as a vampire.

I finally put my hand on something that felt like my phone and moved to pull it out of my bag, but before I could I ran headfirst into something rock hard. I stumbled backwards a step then looked up to see what'd I'd hit. A man stood in front of me, leering down at me with an ugly smile.

"You mind?" I snapped, straightening up to my full height and putting my hands on my hips.

"Not at all." He grinned at me, creepy as all hell, and then I saw the black veins start to grow under his eyes before he rushed at me.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I groaned. The guy used his super speed, but he was still way too slow for me. He must have been a very new vampire, especially since he didn't even realize I was one. I'd only been one for a year and I was way smarter than him!

I grabbed the guy's wrist and snapped it as he rushed me. He cried out in pain, then whirled around and tried to grab me with his other arm. We were close enough to the same vamp age that I didn't actually have much of a strength advantage, and I kept being forced to back up as our fight continued.

I grit my teeth, sparing half a second to glance around for anybody I could call for help. There was no one, which meant it was up to me to handle myself.

I took a deep breath and tried to remember the deputy training stuff Matt had been trying to teach me. I ducked and dodged a few wild swipes from my attacker, then when I saw my opening, I shot my hand forward as fast as possible and plunged it into the guy's rib cage.

I ripped out his heart before I could second guess myself, and his skin turned ashen gray before he collapsed to the ground, dead. I'd never been as comfortable with killing as Damon and Stefan, but I wasn't too upset about this guy, since he'd clearly been trying to prey on women he thought couldn't fight back. The world was better off without him.

I took a deep breath and dropped the heart on the ground next to the guy. I needed to do something to get rid of the body to keep the entire campus from lighting up about weird things going on and a dude being killed, but it was going to make me so much later than I already was. I sighed heavily. There was really nothing I could do about it.

I looked around for some kind of inspiration and the fastest way to take care of this thing and move on, and then I noticed Damon's car in the parking lot. He was here to attend the party with Elena, but he'd also told me a while ago he was willing to help me if I needed him in my vampire transition process.

This counted, right?

I decided to go with yes. I dragged the body and the heart to Damon's car, then quickly shoved both in the back under some blankets. He'd find it and figure out something to do with it.

I brushed off my hands and smiled at my handiwork, then shut the door to Damon's car and vampire-sped the rest of the way to the party. It was dark, and no one else was out, so it felt worth the risk of speeding to avoid being a single second later.

I walked through the doors and immediately started looking for Matt. I got a few compliments on my costume (a stereotypical nurse's outfit), and I smiled and waved to a few people I knew, but I didn't stop to chat. Finally, I heard Matt's voice filtering through the crowd from the edge of the room. He was talking to Caroline, and he looked worried, so I rushed over there as quickly as I could.

"Matt! I'm so, so sorry I'm so late!" I called as I got to him. He looked relieved when he saw me, but then his eyes trailed down my costume and the smile dropped off his face.

"Is that fake blood? Please tell me that's fake blood..."

I glanced down at myself and noticed for the first time that my cute outfit now had dark red blood stains on them, definitely from the vampire I'd killed outside.

"Uh... That's real blood..."

"Y/N, are you kidding me?" cried Matt. I blinked at him in shock, and Caroline took that pause as her moment to escape.

"Well, I better go check on the punch, make sure we're not running out!" she chirped. "Good to see you Y/N."

With that, she disappeared into the crowd. Matt was still staring at me with a scowl on his face, so I quickly took his arm and headed somewhere more private.

Matt followed, but I could tell he was still pissed. He'd had some serious issues coming to terms with dating a vampire after I'd been turned, but we were in love, so we'd been making it work. Still, we had our rough patches, and we were still working out how trust worked in the new version of our relationship.

"Matt, listen to me-" I said, trying to get ahead of what I knew was coming.

"No, Y/N, you listen!" Matt cut in. "I put up with you running around biting people when you'd first been turned, even though it made me question every moral I've ever had. And I got over it when you and the Salvatores and Caroline ran around trying to kill people, insisting that was the way it had to go. But that part of your life—that part of our lives—was supposed to be over. And now you're showing up to a party late, covered in blood! What the hell, Y/N?"

"I got attacked, Matt," I said. The music pulsed behind us, but our attention was solely on each other. "I got stopped on the sidewalk by some dudebro vampire who didn't realize I was one too. He tried to drain me, and when he realized he couldn't, he tried to kill me. So I fought back and killed him first."

All the blood had drained out of Matt's face as I spoke. His demeanor completely changed, and he hung his head and shook it once I'd finished speaking. Finally, he looked back up at me with a grimace.

"I'm sorry. I should know you better than that by now. I do know you better than that, I- I just saw the blood, and..."

"Matt, I get it. You've got a lot of trauma, bad memories, and broken trust in most of your other relationships with vampires. But I promise you, that's not me. And it's not going to be me. We've talked about this before, but if we're gonna work, you have to believe that."

"I know. I know, you're right. You're completely right. And I'm going to believe it. I believe it right now, I just... I need to get better at remembering it. I'm so sorry, and I'm glad you're okay."

I gave him a small smile. "Perfectly safe and healthy here."

"Good." He smiled back, looking incredibly relieved. He took a step forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, and I slowly snaked my arms around his neck.

"You know, if you want me to go change out of the bloody clothes before you kiss me, I get it," I said. Matt just grinned.

"Nah, it's fine. It doesn't bother me if it's some guy that was harassing you. He deserved what he got."

I absolutely beamed at him, then pulled him to me and kissed him hard. I could feel Matt smiling into the kiss, and I wanted to deepen it, but he pulled back before I could.

"Can I ask one quick question before we keep doing this?" he asked.

"If you must."

"Did you just leave the guy's body in the middle of the quad?"

I grinned. "Nope. Remember how Damon got guilted by Elena into offering to help me if I ever needed anything?"

"You called him for body disposal?"

"Oh no, I didn't think he'd leave Elena even to uphold the promise she made him make. Nah, I just broke into his car and left the body in the backseat."

Matt burst out laughing, and it took him a while to calm down. When he finally did, he looked at me with one of his best dopey smiles.

"Have I told you lately that I love you?"

"Yeah, actually. But I'm always down to hear it again."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you too. Now let's head back into the party before we get completely sidetracked over here again."

"Probably not a bad idea. As long as we can get back to it later?"

I smiled and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek as we headed back into the crowd, then I leaned in to whisper in his ear, so only he could hear me.

"Promise. Trust me."

#the vampire diaries #matt donovan #matt donovan x reader #The Vampire Diares #the vampire diaries fanfiction #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries oneshot #matt donovan fanfiction #matt donovan oneshot #matt donovan imagine #TVD #tvd fanfiction #tvd one shot #tvd imagine #tvd x reader #Mystic Falls #whitmore #damon salvatore #caroline forbes

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wooteena · 3 years

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technoblade speedrunning adopting ranboo (high school edition): the fanfic

also on ao3!

hey remember this post? well i got so attatched and impatient that i wrote over 1k words for a pilot type chapter for it <3

chapter one: officer in my defense i punched that guy because he deserves it

Techno Blade-Minecraft would call himself smart. He got good grades without trying, learned second, then third languages with ease, read textbooks for fun, etcetera etcetera. Wisdom without experience was a rare thing to possess, especially in a high school senior but techno had it tight in his grasp, easily making him a ‘Model Student’. He understood he got unneeded attention from that, which sucked, but it was an easy trade-off to be the automatic teacher’s favourite.

But Techno was a man of wisdom, not a man of sense. So naturally, he remembered a fact about baby birds he learnt when he was six years old:

‘Classical "imprinting", as seen with for example, ducks or geese, means that the animal's instinctive programming says "the first big animal you see after hatching is your mom, follow them and look to her for food, warmth, love and learning’

Actually, Techno decided he was the man of Most Sense because at that very moment, the tallest, yet somehow weakest looking freshmen he’d ever seen was being cornered by a group of hefty looking seniors.

And the baby bird, with its innocent, scared eyes was looking right at him.

He looked around the hallway, a desperate scan for other students he could push his growing parental responsibility on to. It was a ghost town, as empty as the remakes of towns from the old west he saw on childhood school excursions.

‘Fuuuuuuuuuuck.’

Technoblade took a deep breath in through his nose, then released it out of his mouth like if he breathed hard enough, his empathy could be taken away with the non existent wind in the soul-crushing grey hallways. It obviously didn’t work because Jesus Christ that kid looked helpless.

As quickly as one could without compromising a freshmen’s still intact nose, Techno examined the seniors. They all wore the school football team’s letterman jacket (‘what is this, Heathers?’), a classic pointer for internalized insecurity, toxic masculinity and most importantly unrightfully self diagnosed Strong Guy syndrome, which meant that they definitely were only beating up a freshmen because that was the most they could actually fight. One point to Technoblade. They also were all at least a solid five inches shorter than him, which Techno would have laughed at if the situation wasn’t so dire. Point two for Technoblade.

Catching himself before letting his wandering mind think up a full five paragraph M.L.A sighted essay to why he could crush these nerds, he decided that two points was enough leverage to still crush these nerds, but with slightly less confidence.

With as much patience as he could, he slowly walked up to the group like a silent lion hunting his soon to be, very dead* (maybe not dead, *slightly bruised) prey. The baby bird, trapped in one of his prey’s chokehold, stared at him like he was a madman. Techno’s objective changed: knock out the dickhead choking a kid.

They stood in a corner, the choker in the middle, the other two blocking off the only escapes and laughing cruelly at the baby bird. Completely distracted.

Techno curled his fist, aiming to punch that asshole’s teeth in or at least break his nose. He starts to run, about five feet away from his target and oh god this is a terrible idea he does fencing not hand to ha-

BAM.

Choker’s nose made a resounding crack and fell back onto the jock on the left. Probably because it’d be ‘too gay’, or whatever, the guy sidesteps and lets a knocked out, nose broken, probably popular kid by comparing his ego to the size of his dick, fall onto the ground

The two awake bullies look between their knocked out friend, then at Techno, then at each other.

“MISS NIIIIHACHUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU!!”

Techno knew they’d call a teacher because they’re cowards but really? Nihachu?

That lady is TERRIFYING what did he do to deserve this.

He let out a long, disappointed ‘bruh’ before with a jolt, remembering the whole reason he punched that jock in the first.

The child.

He doesn’t bother trying to pick up him up because holy hell he’s tall, but pulls one of the kid’s arms over his shoulder, and with his other arm holds their waist and sprints as fast as he can down the hall.

“What the…” murmurs the half dead lump on his back, and while Techno’s surprised his vocal chords aren’t dead? Not even a ‘thank you’? Techno thinks he should start doing charity work at this point.

He continues to run though, because he’s a generous soul, until slowing to open a door that opens the blinding sunlight of the free world outside their prison.

Despite himself, Techno lets his mouth slip into a big enough smile that actually shows his teeth because he just did that. His celebratory moment is cut off though, because the weight on his back suddenly felt even heavier and-

Oh my God the baby bird just fell asleep on me.

Am I a father now?

What do I tell Phil? Does this make him a grandfather?

I can’t just take him home.

What’s stopping you?

Oh my God, I’m a genius.

Techno may be a proclaimed genius, but he is not immune to the inherent propaganda of cute children, so he sets down the kid on the least grimey part of a battered metal bench to get his first proper look at the sleeping giant.

Apart from his injuries (a bleeding nose, bruises forming on his arms, a black eye and a red handprint on his neck) the kid looked… Weird. Techno had subconsciously noticed it while carrying him, but only now the complete oddity of him. His skin from the jaw down was a uniform, warm, dark brown, which was decidedly normal, but his face was… different. Not ugly, no, he looked average, if not perpetually awkward, even in his sleep. The right side of his face was a similar, if not slightly darker tone than the rest of his skin, but where it got weird weird was from the middle of his face and leftward, his face was pale. As pale as Techno, which is saying something because Techno himself has albinism; he has no melanin in his skin.

He found himself sympathizing for the kid again. Techno himself got bullied for his reddish eyes - a symptom of his albinism, and his naturally stark-white skin and hair. It got to the point that he dyed his hair pink, which decidedly made it worse because a guy dying his hair pink ? apparently high school treason to both students and the school rules. His bullies had a colourful range of insults, at least; Techno’s personal favourites being from after he died his hair: homophobic slurs. The teachers had constant complaints and even a couple suspensions, which didn’t stop Techno, obviously. What a wonder public school is.

So yes, Techno understood the baby bird, because despite Techno’s only weakness being himself (and apparently non-threatening freshmen?) as of now, it wasn’t like he came out of the womb a scary pink haired senior. He knew bullying like the hair dye aisle at his local department store.

He knew that helping the kid would make him more attached to the point of no return, but he’d accepted it. It felt like feeding a wild animal more food after making the mistake the first time, it’s not like it’ll get less annoying to have it following you around.

The moment Techno processed his own thought, his face blanched - somehow getting whiter despite literally being the textbook definition of a white boy.

He’d fallen into the ‘senior adopting a defenseless freshmen’ trap.

Shit.

Even more embarrassingly, this didn't deter Techno from pulling his first aid kit, for once his anxious over-packing doing some good.

acording to tumblr statistics, only a small percentage of people who like the post actually reblog it. so if you liked it, give it a reblog! it takes five seconds and you can always delete the reblog later.

#mcyt #mcyt fanfic #mcyt au #technoblade #ranboo #nihachu #dream smp #mcytblr #sleepyblr #philza #homophobia tw #bullying tw #violence tw #minecraft youtubers #baby bird au

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sareyen · 2 years

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Are you a magnet? Because you’re attractive as hell (Cherik)

Read on ao3

Summary: Charles Xavier and Erik Lehnsherr are famous on campus. Or infamous, really. Their heated rivalry is well known amongst both the staff and students of their university, and it was a common occurrence to see the two of them duking it out all over campus.

When the university tells them to either play nice or say goodbye to their degrees, Charles and Erik decide to give them exactly what they asked for, and more.

So, instead of screaming insults at each other across campus, they shout bad pick-up lines at each other instead – something that everyone decides is infinitely worse.

“Oh no, here we go again,” a student sighed, leisurely picking up their books before dropping to their knees and scuttling under the desk. Other students also groaned, putting on their headphones and joining their classmates under desks, or plastering themselves out of the way against the walls. Some even just straight up left the lecture hall.

“Do you think they’ll just cancel class?”

“I hope they do – I haven’t started my mutants in politics essay yet, and it’s due on Friday.”

“Nah, this one only looks like DEFCON-3 at the most. Probably a few tables will be thrown, maybe Xavier will get pinned to the wall by some chairs, but that’s it.”

“No, it may even be DEFCON-4. Lehnsherr looks like he’s about to kill Xavier.”

The professor, a meek, mild-mannered man that wasn’t paid enough for this, dabbed at the sweat beading on his head as he looked between the two most out-spoken students in his class, agreeing with the gossiping students. Xavier and Lehnsherr were famous on campus – or infamous, really.

Whether it’s in their Mutant History class, or their Mutant Law class, or their Mutant Politics class, they were always at each other’s throats. On the good days they’d just spit arguments at each other in the middle of the lecture hall. On worse days, they’d have to be pulled off each other by other students before someone got injured. And on the worst days, Erik would almost pull all the metal pipes from the walls while Charles’s anger would give everyone on campus and surrounding suburbs a migraine.

They were both were brilliant students, of course. Their essays on mutant politics and law were top of the class, and Xavier definitely had the chops to become a future professor himself, while Erik could become a high-powered CEO, politician or… hitman, judging by the murderous gleam in his eyes at the moment.

“If you want a fight, Erik, I will give you a fight!” Charles Xavier hissed, grabbing onto the front of Erik’s shirt, staring up at him with angry blue eyes.

“U-Uh, guys…” Hank McCoy stammered, pushing his glasses nervously up his blue and furry nose, Erik just raising his hand with a wide, almost feral smile.

“Let him come,” Erik said, grinning, teeth gleaming under the trembling lights.

“Mutant U Daily! I saw today’s publication. I cannot believe that you called me a… a…” Charles seethed, usually rosy cheeks turning a bright shade of red that matched his ruddy lips as he shook Erik’s shirt, the taller man just smirking.

“Cowardly integrationist who’d rather bend over backwards on President McKenna’s desk in the oval office than stand up for the rights and safety of his fellow mutants?” Erik said, quoting his own prose verbatim, relishing in how Charles’s eyes only hardened. “Come on, Xavier. Tell me I’m wrong. The fact that you support the Mutant Registration Act just proves that you’re-”

“You twisted my words, you separatist imbecile,” Charles retorted, dropping his hands from Erik’s shirt to run his fingers through his hair in angry exasperation, like Erik was snipping at his last straw. If Xavier ever went bald, it would definitely be because of Lehnsherr – that everyone agreed on.

“Oh? I believe you said that, and I quote, ‘the Mutant Registration Act has its merits’,” Erik drawled, mimicking Charles’s thick English accent and then some, Charles groaning.

“Yes, I said that, but I’m unsure if you oh-so-conveniently forgot that I also said that while the act has its values, there are severe issues with it, which put mutants at risk of persecution and discrimination. So, considering a modified version of the act could have many benefits.”

“Oh, benefits. The only people it benefits are the humans, who would round us up and-” Erik spat out, Charles jabbing a finger into his taut chest before crossing his arms over his own.

“It could help track developing genealogical data, help identify likely mutants early and allow for education and preparation prior to manifestation, and if a mutant commits a crime – and only if they do – then their powers could be registered for monitoring and prevention of future crimes,” Charles ranted, shushing Lehnsherr with another stab of his finger when the man opened his mouth to retort. “Similar to the currently existing sex offender’s list. Lehnsherr, if you actually read my column on the Daily, you would have understood that, but apparently you are an illiterate buffoon-”

“Illiterate buffo- Is that the best you’ve got, Xavier? Because if you’re lowering yourself to petty name-calling then you must be running out of intelligent arguments,” Lehnsherr snorted, though the squealing from the pipes in the walls showed that the insult grated on his nerves. Charles merely raised a brow, expression cool, though the brewing headache everyone began having at the same time was proof that the usually sunny and cheerful man was pissed.

“You called me a cowardly integrationist slut first!”

“Oh no, I never called you a slut, Xavier. Freudian slip on your part?”

“Well you insinuated that I’d happily bend over for our dear Mr President just because I’m able to logically think about both the pros and cons about something instead of going straight to threatening domestic terrorism!”

“If you think that something that supports a second Holocaust has any pros, then there must be something wrong with your brain!”

“The only thing wrong with my brain is that it allows me to hear all of the insanity that’s rattling inside your brain!”

“Well listen all you like, Xavier, because unlike you, I actually support mutants since I don’t condone the use of suppressants or power-dampening collars,” Erik continued, glancing at Charles’s neck, where he often sported the thick, black collar during exams. The pipes in the walls rattled more intensely, enough to make even Charles look away from Erik’s eyes and to the quaking classroom around him.

Charles opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted when the door of the lecture hall burst open, revealing a very, very angry Professor Shaw, Dean of the Mutant Studies faculty within Columbia.

“Xavier! Lehnsherr! My office, now!” Shaw roared, glaring at the two most promising yet troublesome students, before whirling on his heels and stomping down the halls, the weight of his steps likely leaving potholes in his wake.

“Oh, thank God,” the weak-willed professor sighed, wiping his brow again before collapsing against his lectern with relief, only until he looked at his watch and slumped.

There was only 15 minutes left of the lecture left.

Guess another class had to be cancelled.

***

“This is the last straw, gentlemen,” Shaw said, smiling chillingly at the two students sitting in front of him. “I know you two despise each other, but enough is enough!”

“Professor Shaw, I assure you, this will be the last time-” Charles tried with a pleasant smile, Shaw shutting him up with a sharp look as Erik just rolled his eyes.

“Ass kisser,” Erik muttered, Charles turning to glare at him.

“I would have believed that the first time, Mr Xavier. And the second time. But this is the umpteenth time you two have caused trouble, and not only in Professor Jacob’s class. All of your professors have complained that your constant arguments are disruptive, not to mention the destruction of school property by Mr Lehnsherr, and your violation of the school’s telepathy restrictions-”

“Restrictions which are bullshit anyway,” Erik suddenly interrupted, Shaw slamming his hands down on his desk and angrily jerking an accusatory finger at the two students.

“Last straw! If you two are at each other’s throats and disrupt any further classes, then say goodbye to your degrees,” Shaw said, Charles and Erik’s mouths dropping simultaneously.

“Goodbye?” Charles echoed, standing up in alarm. “Goodbye, as in-”

“We fail?” Erik finished, Shaw smiling with false geniality, eyes like icicles.

“Indeed. You’ll have to repeat the year. Such a shame, considering you only need this semester’s credits to graduate. Like I said, gentlemen. Considering your behaviour these past two and a half years, you should be grateful that we haven’t expelled you outright,” Shaw said, waving his hand. “Now, get out of my office. It would be in your best interest to either get over your hatred for one another, or learn to deal with it. I’d better not have to get the two of you back in here again.”

“But-” Charles tried, Shaw ignoring him and just pointing to the door. Charles looked helplessly at the professor, but Erik just snorted and stomped out, Charles following glumly behind him.

“We need to talk, Charles,” Erik said as they left, Charles nodding. “My place or yours?”

“Mine,” Charles said, smiling a little now. “I have the good Scotch, remember?”

***

“I cannot believe Shaw’s audacity,” Charles complained, pouring two glasses of expensive scotch and sliding one over to Erik, who was sprawled across Charles’s couch and nursing a very unamused expression on his face at the mention of the Dean. “He’s punishing us for actually speaking up in class and debating very relevant subjects related to mutant issues. Last I checked, we’re paying to get a Mutant Studies degree.”

“Agreed. If our professors were actually qualified enough to teach us, we wouldn’t have to be the ones picking up the slack in class,” Erik said, swirling the amber scotch in his glass. “No one would learn anything if we didn’t discuss things so thoroughly in and out of class.”

“Precisely! And we both have the highest GPAs in the class. If Shaw fails us while Sean gets to graduate, it would be a gross failure of the American education system,” Charles said, Erik snorting and holding up his glass, the two of them clinking cups and drinking.

“Not to mention Summers. I caught a glimpse of his essay, and it was honestly such a train wreck. I wish I could unread it, my quality of life would be much better that way,” Erik said, Charles shivering at the mere thought. “Apart from you, the only people with more than one braincell in our class are Hank, Armando and Moira. Emma doesn’t count because she plagiarises everything.”

“Huh, surprised you added Moira there, since she’s a mere human and all,” Charles said with a small, teasing smile. Erik just rolled his eyes, patting the couch beside him. Charles let out a soft laugh, putting his glass down and sinking down on the couch next to Erik, who wrapped his arms around his boyfriend’s belly and buried his head in his muscled thigh.

“I can’t fail this degree, Erik. You know my mother. She already thinks I’ve screwed up my life by studying mutant arts instead of something ‘useful’ like business management or ‘glorified pretentiousness’ so I can take over Xavier Pharmaceuticals. If I actually screw this degree up, it’ll only prove that she was right,” Charles mumbled, Erik nodding. Erik knew all about Charles’s less than pleasant childhood, and despite his boyfriend growing up in a grand house and immense material wealth, he knew about the pressure and coldness that came with it.

Having met Charles’s mother on multiple occasions, it was still a wonder how Charles grew up to become such a wonderful person. In this case, the apple flew far, far, far away from the tree.

“Same here. I can’t afford to pay for another year of school if I have to repeat. And no, Charles, I’m not going to let you pay for my degree,” Erik said, kissing Charles into silence knowingly, the man just responding wordlessly with a huff. “Yes, yes, you could pay off my student debt with your monthly allowance, but I don’t want you to.”

“And I won’t, if you don’t want me to,” Charles said, understanding Erik’s need for his independence, knowing that his boyfriend’s upbringing had made it difficult for him to rely on people. To trust people. Apart from his mother Edie, Charles had been the first person Erik could open himself up to, because Charles always understood. Maybe it was partially because of his telepathy, but it was also because it was Charles. Kind, patient, lovely Charles, who didn’t mind Erik’s barbed words and cold exterior, allowing him to slowly reveal small facets of himself until he was ready to give Charles everything.

“I don’t know why Shaw is getting his pants in a twist now. It’s not like we’ve ever actually been mad at each other. We’re just debating…” Erik said, before pausing and looking at Charles, peeling his head up from the telepath’s thigh. “You weren’t actually offended that I called you a cowardly integrationist, were you?”

Charles laughed, shaking his head and leaning down to plant a reassuring kiss on Erik’s lips.

“Only if you’re not offended that I called you a separatist imbecile… or an illiterate buffoon,” Charles replied, Erik’s eyes sparkling with mirth and fond affection, sitting up only to push Charles down against the plush fabric of the couch, hovering over him.

“Not at all,” Erik said, before frowning. “But I am offended by the fact that everyone thinks we hate each other. I overheard someone saying that if anything ever happened to you – which I would never allow to happen, mind you – that the police should question me first. Like I’d ever hurt you.”

Erik scowled at the memory of what he overheard in the university halls once. He knew he could come off as intimidating, especially with his menacing smile and taciturn demeanour, but the fact that they thought him capable of hurting Charles was insulting and ridiculous.

He loved Charles, and would rather die than let anything happen to him.

Charles caught that thought, blue eyes softening as he raised his hands to cup Erik’s cheeks, thumbs rubbing gentle, affectionate circles over the man’s skin.

‘I love you too, darling,’ Charles pressed into Erik’s mind, soothing some of the frustrated knots building there. Erik sank into Charles’s touch, nuzzling into the palm of his hand. ‘I also find it ridiculous how anyone can think that I despise you. And trust me, they think that a lot.’

“The fact that they haven’t even realised that we’re dating is also beyond me. It’s been two years! Idiots, the whole lot of them,” Erik scoffed, groaning when Charles began running his fingers through his hair.

“Darling, they wouldn’t notice unless we started having sex right in front of them in the lecture hall. And even then, they’d think it’s just hate sex. Everyone genuinely thinks we detest each other, which is why we’re in this predicament in the first place.”

“But I don’t want to stop arguing with you in class,” Erik grumbled. “Arguing with you is the only enjoyable thing I get to do all day. Without it, class would be boring as fuck, and everything you say makes more sense than whatever nonsense our Professors keep spouting, even if you’re an integrationist idiot.”

“Yes, yes, my frustratingly sexy supremacist. Alas, as much as I agree, if we don’t tone it down then we’ll be in the horrible position of repeating the year. I suppose we have to ‘play nice’ for Shaw until graduation,” Charles sighed, the two men sinking into a glum silence, before Charles perked up. “Unless…”

Erik raised a brow now, eyeing the mischievous curl of Charles’s lips.

“Since the university wants us to play nice, why don’t we play really nice?” Charles said, Erik beginning to catch on, lips spreading into his signature grin.

“Oh? Care to share what ‘playing nice’ would consist of?”

“Well, to start…”

***

Students and professors alike ogled at the unfathomable scene in the university parking lot.

They saw Erik Lehnsherr park his rust-bucket car like always, stepping out with his trademark glower and long legs. And, like always, Charles Xavier walked in through the gates from the bus stop, satchel slung over his shoulder and wearing his characteristic tweed.

But, unlike always, instead of hurling an insult at Xavier, Lehnsherr smiled instead and… whistled.

“Hey, Xavier! Are you a parking ticket? Because you’ve got ‘fine’ written all over you!” Erik called out, and everyone’s heads immediately snapped over to Xavier, expecting him to begin writing up a sexual harassment lawsuit.

Instead, the man just beamed and flushed a pretty pink, licking his lips before speaking.

“Really? Well, in that case, if being sexy is a crime, you’d be guilty as charged,” Xavier said back, even adding a charming wink at the end of it. Lehnsherr actually laughed – laughed – before walking into the building after Xavier.

Everyone had the same collective thought, almost like a telepath had put it there in everyone’s heads.

What the actual fuck?

***

Later that day, everyone expected for Xavier and Lehnsherr to begin duking it out in class as per usual, especially after their fight was interrupted by Professor Shaw the day before.

Lehnsherr sat down in his usual seat in the mid row by the window, but Xavier had yet to arrive. They noticed Lehnsherr’s long leg bobbing up and down as he continuously glanced at the door, as if waiting to murder Xavier the moment he walked in.

Just before the professor hobbled in, Xavier arrived, blue eyes immediately zeroing in on Lehnsherr and skipping over to him with intent. Lehnsherr just leaned back in his chair and smirked, ready and waiting.

‘Oh, thank God, they’re going to yell at each other and everything will be back to normal,’ everyone thought, until Xavier spoke, that was.

“You know, someone should really call the cops, because it has to be illegal for someone to look this gorgeous,” Xavier said confidently, Lehnsherr’s smirk only deepening as his gaze on Xavier became even more intense, before he suddenly blinked, rubbing at his eyes.

“Oh, sorry,” Lehnsherr said, gesturing to his eyes before grinning. “There must be something wrong with my eyes, Xavier, because I can’t seem to take them off you.”

Xavier giggled, settling down in his seat after giving Erik another dazzling, flattered smile, while everyone else wondered if the world began spinning backwards today.

Because Xavier and Lehnsherr were not only being civil, but they were…

Flirting?

***

Like many students, Charles and Lehnsherr spent their free period in the library, catching up on assignments or revising for exams. Xavier was there first, lips pursed in thought as he perused the well-stocked shelves for obscure texts about mutant origins. When Lehnsherr strode into the library like he owned it, eyes immediately spotting Xavier, everyone held their breaths.

Lehnsherr walked over to the telepath quickly, long legs swallowing up the distance between them.

“Hey, Xavier,” Lehnsherr said, leaning on the shelf beside the shorter man, who turned to him with his head tilted to the side, curious. “Are you a library book? Because I’d like to check you out, take you home and get to know you a little better.”

Xavier’s lips twitched, clearing his throat as he approached the metal bender, reaching up and bracketing the taller man between his arms.

“Well, fancy that. Did you know that I’m writing a book myself?” Xavier said, voice almost a purr.

“No, I didn’t know that. What kind of book?” Lehnsherr asked, Xavier hopping up onto his tiptoes, leaning in.

“It’s a phonebook, and it’s missing your number,” Xavier concluded, everyone in the library simultaneously choking on their own breaths as Lehnsherr grinned, flicking his wrist up and making a student nearly screech when their marker levitated out of their hand and into Lehnsherr’s.

Lehnsherr scribbled a string of numbers onto Xavier’s palm, their fingers lingering far too long against each other for anyone to feel comfortable.

“If you need help writing it, I’m great at rearranging the alphabet. Of course, I’d put U and I together,” Lehnsherr said, Xavier biting his lip before stepping back, humming thoughtfully.

“I might just have to take you up on that, Erik.”

Everyone was silent, pretending to stare at their laptops or books, but unless their mutation was stealth it was obvious they were eyeing the two most high-profile mutants at the university. Xavier left first, checking out a large stack of books, and moments after Lehnsherr followed him, grinning widely and looking far too pleased with himself.

***

“A library book? Really, Erik? And you wrote down the pizza place’s number on my hand with a permanent marker,” Charles gasped through a breathy moan as Erik kissed and nibbled at his neck, tongue lapping at the freckles there.

“It was thematically appropriate, at least. The library line, not the pizza thing,” Erik defended himself, smiling as Charles just huffed and tugged at his hair, pulling him down into a dirty kiss. “I was just really craving pizza.”

“I wish you could’ve felt the way everyone’s minds imploded in the library,” Charles said when they broke for air, flipping the two of them over and straddling Erik’s body, pushing him down onto the mattress and peppering kisses down his chest.

“Oh?”

“Mm. They were all wondering why we weren’t at each other’s throats like usual. Wondering if the world was ending and all that.‘The apocalypse is nigh’ someone very eloquently put it,” Charles continued, kissing his way back up when he got to the dipped V that disappeared into Erik’s jeans, sucking a dark red welt on his boyfriend’s neck and finishing it off with a cheeky bite.

“Not at each other’s throats, huh? The evidence here begs to differ,” Erik echoed, voice rough as he tilted his neck to the side so Charles could admire his hard work that blossomed darkly on Erik’s, Charles’s own eyes darkening.

“Seriously, if you come to class with that, people would have to realise that we’re fucking, right?” Charles sighed, reaching down to undo Erik’s fly, the metallokinetic flicking his fingers to help him out, the zipper sliding down on its own accord. Erik drank in the small smile Charles couldn’t fight back at the sight of that, even now. Charles always loved the little ways Erik used his powers, that spark of wondrous delight never dulling no matter how many times Erik lifted a forkful of spaghetti or turned on a tap when his hands were full.

‘Well yes, you’re quite brilliant, Erik,’ Charles spoke reverently into Erik’s mind, licking his lips before grinning. ‘Even if your pick-up lines are terrible.’

“Oh, just you wait,” Erik chuckled, pulling Charles down as he ground his hips up, the telepath gasping at the friction. “There are plenty more where those came from.”

“Oh, I so look forward to it. And to everyone’s reactions,” Charles purred, reaching down and slipping his hands into Erik’s briefs. “Now, since you were craving pizza for dinner, what are you desiring for dessert?”

‘You,’ Erik projected, arching up when Charles began palming his hardening cock.

“Same here,” Charles said, winking, and Erik pre-emptively rolled his eyes. “You must be my dessert, because I’ll be pudding it in you.”

“Charles, just shut up and fuck me.”

***

Erik glared at his laptop, the essay he had been reading and re-reading over and over beginning to blur in his eyes. If there were any telepaths or empaths having lunch on the grass outside the school buildings, they would likely feel the waves of frustration and exhaustion wafting off him right now.

At least, until the scent of sugar exploded in front of him, his essay obscured by a box of colourful donuts, a blinding smile and ocean blue eyes.

Charles tried not to burst out into laughter as someone on the grass thought very loudly ‘Oh shit, here comes World War III’.

“Erik,” Charles chirped, plopping himself down next to the German, who closed his laptop and pushed it off his lap with his powers.

“Charles,” Erik replied simply, looking amused when his boyfriend picked up one of the glazed donuts, holding it out to him. Erik took a large bite, Charles laughing and rubbing some of the crusted sugar off his lip.

“Are you a doughnut? Because you’re just a-dough-able,” Charles said with a straight face, Erik almost choking on the sugary treat, but managing to swallow it and pinch Charles’s thigh.

Picking up another donut – the sickeningly sweet caramel one that Charles favoured – Erik pressed it against Charles’s lips. Charles licked it slowly, sugar coating his tongue and lips, before taking a languid bite and letting out a low moan.

Erik squeezed the telepath’s thigh again, making him smile.

“Charles, you must be a donut, because I’m ready to glaze you inside and out,” Erik said, Charles unable to hold back the peal of laughter that escaped his lips. The telepath almost wheezed as he careened into Erik’s chest with laughter, the metallokinetic catching both him and the forgotten box of donuts.

‘Oh, someone just thought that they’d rather us try to murder each other than hear such bad pick-up lines. Apparently us blowing each other up is far more tolerable than us blowing each other on the grass,’ Charles pushed at Erik, who just grinned and looked around the grass, everyone who was staring suddenly turning their gazes away.

‘Good. Maybe if we’re even more sickeningly sugary sweet Shaw will tell us that we should go back to arguing instead,’ Erik projected back, Charles raising an eyebrow.

‘You know what, darling? You are a genius. On another note, if you’re as sick of your essay as your mind says you are, shall we go back to mine so you can glaze my donut hole?’

***

“Erik! Come and feel my new shirt! Do you know what this shirt is made out of?” Charles yelled from the top of the stairs, all of the students, including Erik, stopping and turning their heads up to look at him. “It’s boyfriend material!”

Charles beamed as people groaned in their minds, while Erik just ran up the stairs and swept Charles off his feet obnoxiously.

***

“You, Charles, must be a magnet, because you’re attracting me like crazy,” Erik said as he sauntered up to Charles in the halls, the telepath backing up into some lockers as Erik caged him in, both men smiling at each other as everyone else collectively gagged.

***

Charles burst into the classroom, holding his phone out and then thrusting it towards Erik.

“Hey Erik. Cupid is on the phone. He wants to tell you to give me my heart back,” Charles said, the students around them dropping their heads in their hands and wishing that their disgust-induced migraines went away.

***

In the men’s bathroom at adjacent urinals, Charles and Erik continued, the students around them wishing they were anywhere else because they knew what was about to come.

“Charles, my love for you is like diarrhoea – I just can’t hold it in.”

***

For the next two weeks, any time, any place, no matter who was around, Charles and Erik were unrelenting. What had once been yelling matches about mutant rights became pun-ridden flirtation filled to the brim with horrible pick-up lines and even more horrible eye-sex.

“Erik! If you were a vegetable, you’d be a cute-cumber.”

“Charles! Do you have a Band-Aid? Because I scraped my knees falling for you!”

“Erik, my secondary mutation is actually precognition, because I definitely see you in my future!”

“Charles, no wonder the sky is so grey today – all the colours are in your eyes!”

“Erik, we must be in a museum, because you’re a work of art!”

“Charles, life without you is like a broken pencil, completely pointless!”

“Erik, are you a campfire? Because you’re bloody hot and I want s’more!”

“Charles, you need to take me to the doctor, because I broke my legs falling for you!”

***

Everyone only lasted another week of Charles and Erik’s constant pick-up lines and bad puns, and on Monday morning they found themselves sitting in Shaw’s office once again, the Dean scowling at them with, what Charles could feel, a killer head ache.

“Okay, you two win. I’ve had enough. We’ve all had enough. You two can graduate, whatever, just stop with the… stuff you’re doing,” Shaw spat out stiffly, Charles sitting there with faux confusion while Erik just smirked, both of their reactions grating on Shaw’s already thin nerves.

“But we’ve done exactly what you told us to. Play nice, wasn’t it? In fact, I think Charles and I have been beyond nice,” Erik said, Charles’s lip twitching.

The vein bulging in Shaw’s forehead pulsed.

“No, I think I can speak on behalf of the entire campus that we’d rather you stop being nice to each other. I’ve had enough emails being sent to me regarding complaints about your… conduct. I had far less emails bombarding me when you two were about to tear down university infrastructure. So, for everyone’s sake and sanity, please go back to hating each other,” Shaw said gratingly through gritted teeth, before waving the two of them out and rummaging around his desk for some painkillers or hard alcohol.

Or both.

Together.

When Charles and Erik left, they grinned at each other, before Erik leaned in with a suggestive nudge.

“So, what do you want to argue about in class today?” Erik whispered, Charles laughing with bright eyes, hopping up to peck Erik’s lips.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll think of something. We’ve got weeks of arguing to make up for.”

#cherik #charles xavier #erik lehnsherr #x-men #xmen #fanfic #ao3 #fluff #humor #pick-up lines #groovy flirty mutants

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the-dream-team · 3 years

Text

Can I Try Again

Another ridiculously fluffy one-shot for @efkgirldetective's summer of jily week four prompt: picking berries // I know I've kissed you before, but I didn't do it right // the entire song, pink in the night <3

She is beautiful and he is in a perpetual state of falling. Down and down and down the goddamn rabbit hole, but somehow the further James plummets, the brighter his life becomes. It’s the kind of brightness that blinds him- somewhat painfully- and leaves his vision spotty, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lily Evans walks ahead of him, a spring in her step, sunshine pouring through her hair. She’s cut it short for the summer, just above her shoulders, and he’s mesmerized by the way it bounces around her neck as she walks through the gardens of his family’s home. It’s an image he’s played over in his head an infinite number of times, but his rosiest daydreams don’t hold a candle to the real thing. The afternoon light hits his glasses just right and suddenly there’s a halo of glowing stars framing her as she tucks a dark red strand behind her ear. He can’t even see her face, but it doesn’t matter. I could stare at your back all day.

He is the luckiest boy in the world and every moment is made up of the sweetest form of torture. Agony and exuberance whipping his heart back and forth like a rogue Bludger.

She must know, he thinks. Must have some sort of clue that she’s occupied every corner of his mind for well over a year now. Even more so now, after the platform. He wishes more than anything for the ability to read minds as she glances over her shoulder with those startlingly green eyes, that friendly grin.

He can’t help but smile back- or maybe he was already smiling before she even turned around. It doesn’t matter. By some miracle, she’s here, and he can only marvel at the kindness of fate.

***

It had been a passing comment. One of those early morning conversations as his friends frantically scribbled out unfinished essays while shoving waffles down their throats. Chatter muffled by mouthfuls of eggs and yawning. Remus had commented offhandedly about the fruit bowl being passed around, and then-

“Oh, raspberries are my favorite.”

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t already looking at her when she spoke. But truthfully, he was always looking at Lily, a habit he’d long since stopped fighting once he realized how fruitless his efforts were. She was beautiful and he was hopeless. Simply lucky to be in her presence. She was the sun, and he, but a lonely planet, entirely reliant on and endlessly seeking out her light.

Sirius spoke the words James should have if his mind hadn’t gone fuzzy from hearing her voice.

“You know, the Potters have a raspberry patch in their gardens.”

“Oh, really?” She glanced from Sirius to James with a brilliant smile and excited eyes, so purposefully glued to his that he had to duck his head and rake a hand through his hair to hide his heating cheeks.

“That’s right,” he said more to his plate of sausages than to her. “They’re usually ripe to pick by early August.” When he peered back up, she was still looking his way.

“You should come over this summer and take some off our hands,” said Sirius casually, turning towards James as if it had been his idea.

“Yeah,” he jumped in a little too eagerly. “I mean- if you’d like, you’re more than welcome.”

Her smile widened, rounding the apples of her cheeks in a way that made his stomach flip pleasantly. “That sounds like fun.”

He assumed she’d forget the conversation, it had been just another morning, just another casual chat among housemates, but that didn’t keep him from daydreaming about the potential of a far-off day in August rather incessantly during the following months. But then as the school year ended and summer rolled on painfully slowly (and Lily-less), an owl arrived. And her handwriting crawled across the page like a message written in the clouds.

***

Lily swings the woven basket back and forth in her pursuit of the best raspberries. There’s already an impressive bounty growing in her basket, far more than he’s managed to collect- too busy watching her kneel down and pluck berries off their delicate branches to pick any of his own.

He turns to a leafy bush, green and lively and swaying slightly in the warm breeze, and quickly pinches off a handful of berries in an attempt to catch up with her. When she spins around, he’s thankful for the distraction. A minute earlier and she would have caught him staring. Again.

She smiles pleasantly and brushes her fringe off her sweaty forehead with the back of her wrist. James’ heart leaps into his throat.

“You’ve been quiet,” she says, but not accusingly.

“No I haven’t,” he responds, voice gravelly from underuse. “Just been busy picking raspberries.”

She glances at his measly basket, then back to his face with arching brows and an amused smirk.

He can’t help his own guilty grin. “Alright, Evans, I’m sorry we can’t all be unreasonably talented at everything we do.”

“It’s berry picking, Potter,” she laughs, “not advanced Arithmancy.”

In retaliation, he plucks a raspberry off of the nearest branch and playfully throws it at her. She somehow has the gall to lean her head back and catch the goddamn berry between her teeth. His brain short circuits. He’s quite certain his jaw is on the ground. She acts as though this is no big deal, swallowing the fruit with a satisfied smile, her tongue brushing her lower lip before tossing another into her mouth.

“Oh, these are delicious!”

He can’t form a response even if he wants to. Even if it was a matter of life or death, which it sure as hell feels like. He can only stare at her mouth, at her lips stained raspberry-pink, and lose himself in the knowledge that he knows how they feel against his own- even just briefly.

***

The platform teemed with students stretching their legs after the long journey home from school, saying their goodbyes to friends as their families greeted them for the summer.

A pit sat in James’ stomach- heavy and demoralizing- the entire train ride back to London. He knew she’d be gone soon. Back with her parents in Cokeworth for two excruciating months before their seventh year began. He’d taken their close proximity for granted during the school year, and as he faced a summer without the promise of her warmth, he wondered if it was even possible living in the dark.

He laughed loudly at a joke Peter told, overcompensating for the fact he’d missed the punchline while his thoughts were spiraling over her. Sirius shot him a look that suggested he wasn’t doing a great job of masking his emotions. Had it been so obvious the entire way home? Could she have noticed the despondency in his eyes, heard the heavy thumping of his heart? He rolled his eyes at Sirius and mustered up the most unbothered smirk he could manage.

But then, without warning, she was in front of him.

“Alright, Potter, don’t let your head overinflate while I’m not around to keep you grounded.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Evans,” he laughed, thankful his voice sounded steadier than he felt. “Just so long as you promise to consider switching your loyalties to Puddlemere. There’s no way the Harpies even make it to the semi-finals this season, and I can’t bear seeing you heartbroken again.”

“Oh, piss off, Potter,” she replied, but the way she threw her arms around his neck seemed to argue she didn’t mean what she said. Instinctually, he hugged her back, and thank Merlin he had her to hold onto as the wind was knocked out of his lungs at her touch. An overwhelming warmth sparkled across every surface their bodies met, and it took every ounce of control he had to restrain the truly pathetic sigh that threatened to escape his throat.

“And I haven’t forgotten,” she spoke into his shoulder, breath hot thorough his t-shirt, “you promised me berry picking this August.”

It would be impossible to miss the rapid beating of his heart through his chest pressed up against hers. “I’m already counting down the days.”

When she pulled back, hands resting on his shoulders for a beat longer than expected, his body moved faster than his brain could keep up with. He leaned forward, aiming for her cheek, but miraculously landing against her mouth- connecting for the briefest of moments before parting again, as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. If it weren’t for the ghost of her lips still burning against his own, he might have thought he’d dreamt it.

“Lily, I’m not waiting any longer, we’re leaving, now,” came the unpleasant voice of her sister from across the platform.

Lily’s disoriented smile faltered slightly before she composed herself again, meeting his eye. “I’ll see you in August?”

“Yeah, August,” he somehow said with his mouth still tingling, forever changed by what they now knew.

***

The memory of her lips, how they feel pressed between his smile, is harder to ignore when they’re in front of him. He can remember the warmth where they touched him over a month ago and absentmindedly he brings a raspberry to his mouth so he can imagine how she must taste.

His emotions were hard enough to control before he knew what he was missing, but now they are impossible to reign in. He forgets how to breathe, and as a result, his head spins maddeningly. Unsure of how much longer he can stand up straight without making a fool out of himself, he walks forward and lays a hand on Lily’s back- partially to lead her forward, partially because the desire to be connected to her in any way is driving him mad.

She lets him guide her through the rows of bushes, under an ancient wooden archway, and across a courtyard of blossoming poppies and forget-me-nots enclosed by walls of hedges. Yellow and purple petals reflect brilliantly in her green eyes, creating their own fields of wildflowers within her irises. He walks her towards a wide, circular fountain in the middle of the grass where bubbling water spills over onto stone tiers and pours into the basin below, its floor littered with glinting coins, dancing under the water’s rippling surface.

He sits down and she follows suit on the stone ledge surrounding the water, partially shaded by an impressive plum tree. Cool droplets spray off the fountain, refreshing like summer rain singing I love you, I love you, I love you. Lily glances his way and he wonders if she can hear his thoughts.

“Are we finished picking berries?” she asks, eyes squinting and nose crinkling in the sun.

“I figured you had enough to feed a village.” He reaches over and grabs a raspberry from her basket and she gasps in faux outrage.

“Are you really stealing my raspberries, Potter?”

He adores his name on her tongue. “My apologies,” he says, pulling a silver Sickle out of his pocket and sliding it over to where she sits. She looks at him like he’s lost his mind. “For your troubles. Go on then, make a wish.”

“Oh!” Her eyes light up and she takes hold of the coin, lifting it to her heart as she closes her eyes in search of a wish.

He thinks he could look at her forever. Happy, sunkissed, an unconscious smile playing across her lips. With her eyes shut, he uses a minute to take a deep breath, attempting to calm his racing heart and compose his dopey grin. They’re sitting close together, knees almost touching with the basket of berries between them. As she tosses the Sickle behind her shoulder, he smells the faint scent of her vanilla shampoo.

She noticeably tries to hide her smile when her eyelids flutter back open.

“What did you wish for?” he asks, unable to stop himself.

She freezes with her eyes locked on his. A pink blush spreads across her cheeks, growing darker the longer he stares back at her. “I can’t tell you,” she says, words sounding choked, “or else it won't come true.”

Her flushed face awakens something in his chest, a confidence that blooms magnificently, turns his nervous, pattering heartbeat into a steady, powerful drum.

His voice drops to a hoarse whisper when he asks, “Can I guess?”

Her breath hitches. “I think you might already know, James.” Her words, the sound of his name, melts him down to a puddle. By some miracle, she continues speaking. “Look, I know I’ve kissed you before-”

“But I didn’t do it right,” he says frantically, his hands finding her face and brushing through her hair. He starts to understand why people advise against looking directly at the sun because being this close to her fills him with such astounding emotion he thinks he might explode. She stares up at him, blush deepening, lips parting, and he takes a ragged breath. “Can I try again?”

This time, when she smiles, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

He leans in slowly, letting their breath mix together, their noses bump lightly before he closes the space between their lips. She’s soft and warm and beautiful and radiant and he’s never felt a happiness quite like this one, never experienced a kiss this perfect. His fingers travel over her scorching skin and brush her neck as he deepens the kiss, tasting the raspberries on her tongue, his heart soaring as she responds blissfully until they’re both left breathless.

“And again?” she asks, pulling him back with a smile against his lips.

“And again,” he smiles back, marveling, once again, at the kindness of fate.

#summerofjily #look guys #i have never written present tense before so take that information as you will #and of course i switched to past tense for the flashbacks because I guess I want everyone to suffer #have some sickeningly sweet fluff to make up for it lol #i do not love writing kisses!#but I know you guys like when jily seals the deal so I do it for you #absolutely love this prompt and mitski is that glareingly obvious?#plus picking berries is all i've thought about for 24 hours #<3 #who is reading these tags #seriously lmao #jily fic #jily #lily evans #James potter

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theladyofdeath · 3 years

Text

Tempting the Fates {Chapter 6}

Summary: It’s the final semester of Aelin Galathynius’ collegiate career and she is so beyond ready to be done. Her schedule is packed full of nursing classes and labs designed to test her knowledge and hone her skills for the real world and her “big girl” job. However, she needs one last elective to graduate, so she decides to study a subject she’s always been fascinated by: Mythology. Who would have thought that a class about gods and goddesses living complicated lives would end up complicating her own in such an unexpected way?

A @snelbz x @tacmc collaboration.

Word Count: 3080

** N S F W **

Chapters will be posted every Wednesday.

Tempting the Fates Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Aphrodite

– Goddess of love, beauty, and desire

The second Aelin stepped into Rowan’s apartment, silence ensued. With the door shut behind them, Aelin felt like his apartment had significantly shrunk in size since the last time she had been there.

Granted, everything looked the same. The blanket that was draped across his leather sectional in his living room still laid in the same spot, his television was still quietly playing a hockey game, and his laptop sat on his coffee table. Only, this time, there wasn’t a mug of coffee next to it but a nearly-empty bottle of beer.

“So,” Aelin began, just as Rowan said, “Sorry, it’s a mess.”

Aelin blinked, looking around at his pristine apartment. “This is what you consider a mess?”

Rowan looked around before chuckling, nervously. “Yeah, well, there’s….dust.”

Aelin nodded, slowly, continuing to look around. “Well, here’s your clothes,” she said, at last, holding out the bag.

“Thanks,” Rowan muttered, taking the bag from her outstretched hand before tossing it aside. “Do you…want a drink or something? I was just doing some grading.”

“Grading and drinking?” Aelin asked. “Quite the combination.”

Rowan shrugged. “Only makes the shitty papers a little bit better to read.”

“Have you read mine yet?” Aelin asked, before she could think better of it. Rowan hesitated, and Aelin shook her head. “Wow, that was an inappropriate question. Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could have asked me that in class and I’d have answered it. I have.”

When he didn’t go on, Aelin cleared her throat awkwardly. “I’ve never taken a mythology course, so I don’t know much about it, save for what Disney taught me. Which apparently was all wrong, anyways.” She tucked a loose hair behind her ear and cleared her throat again. Maybe coming here was a bad idea. “But music, I do know a lot about, so Apollo seemed like a safe bet. Even if I’m sure I sounded stupid and-.”

“You didn’t,” he interrupted, leaning against the counter. “Your essay is the only one I’ve read that seemed like a real opinion piece, and not like you’re trying to blow smoke up my ass and impress me with your knowledge. This is an introduction class, remember? You aren’t supposed to be a scholar of mythology yet. I liked how honest it was.”

Aelin blinked. “Really?”

Rowan nodded, his eyes remaining on hers. It made Aelin’s heart beat a little bit faster. “Yeah, it was great. I love to hear your thoughts, and I’m excited to hear more of them.”

Aelin nodded and took a deep breath. She should have turned and walked out, told him goodbye, but she couldn’t. Her feet were glued to the floor, her heart nearly ready to beat out of her chest. Her thoughts trailed to the last time she was here, when she’d met the most abundant amount of pleasure she had ever received, and left smitten and wanting more.

From the way the light in his eyes shifted, Aelin knew that Rowan was thinking the same thing.

“I should go,” Aelin said, quietly.

“Yeah,” Rowan agreed.

Neither of them moved.

“You could’ve kept the clothes,” Rowan continued, swallowing. “You didn’t have to come all the way here.”

“I thought you’d want them back,” Aelin said, even though she wasn’t really sure that she even truly believed that.

Every second more that Rowan stared at her, and she stared back, a throbbing formed between her thighs. Rowan said, “You look better in them than I do.”

Aelin swallowed. “I should go,” she repeated.

“Do you want to go?” Rowan asked, hardly more than a whisper.

Aelin remained where she was, watching him, her chest rising and falling, rapidly, with each heavy breath she took.

She slowly shook her head, and before she could form an intelligible thought, Rowan was coming toward her, taking her waist into his hands, and claiming her mouth with his.

She melted into his touch, her hands diving into his hair, holding her against him. He wasted no time, lifting her and setting her on the counter behind her, and stepping between her legs. Aelin gently nibbled on his lip and he opened for her, his tongue sweeping into her mouth just as hers did the same. His hands were still sitting on her waist, but hers were less than idle.

Finding the hem of his shirt, her fingers ran over the abdomen muscles she couldn’t get out of her head. He pulled his lips from hers as a shudder wracked through him and he let out a shaking breath.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he admitted, pulling her to the edge of the counter and grinding against her.

Aelin’s lashes fluttered as she let out a soft moan. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, either.”

His lips were on hers again, hungrily, longingly, and all conversation faded away as Aelin pulled off Rowan’s shirt and ran her hands through his messy, short silvery hair.

Rowan muttered a curse against Aelin’s mouth, and she felt a fire ignite within her core. She wanted it. Gods, she wanted it, wanted him. She knew it was wrong, knew there were boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed, knew the schools had rules, knew employers had rules, but as his mouth trailed from her lips to her neck, just beneath her jaw, Aelin had a really, really hard time caring about any of that.

His hands slid beneath her top, feeling cool and needy against her skin.

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop,” he murmured between the kisses that trailed down her neck. She knew he would, too. One word, and it was done, over.

But, despite the rules, she begged, “Don’t fucking stop.”

That was all Rowan needed to hear. He pulled her shirt over her head, his lips immediately finding her skin again. His kisses trailed from her neck to her shoulder and he pushed the strap of her bra down. His hand did the same with the other and as soon as the straps were free, he reached behind her and unclasped it.

Dropping his head, his mouth closed around her nipple and his tongue circled the sensitive peak. Aelin’s moan was louder than she meant for it to be, but Rowan didn’t try to stifle it. Instead his hand found her breast, rolling her other nipple between his fingers.

Aelin swore, and it had Rowan moaning, muffled, palming her breast as his teeth tugged on her nipple as his free hand made its way into the back of her leggings.

When he realized that she wore no panties, he was about to combust.

Aelin’s hands dove into his hair and she pulled his head back. “I need you. Now.”

Rowan’s only response was finding Aelin’s mouth again with his own, and shoving his sweatpants down onto the kitchen floor. His hard length was on perfect display inside of his boxer-briefs. When Aelin palmed him, he grabbed her off of the counter and carried her into the living room, dropping her down onto the couch. Before he covered his body with hers, he yanked off her leggings and tossed them aside.

He groaned as she continued to rub him through his underwear until he finally couldn’t take it anymore, needing to feel her skin on his. He intended to take them off, but only got as far as freeing his length before she wrapped her hand around him and stroked once, twice. His head fell into the crook of her neck and he did his best not to look like an inexperienced teenager, but he bucked his hips into her hands, groaning again.

This was all he’d been able to think of for the past few days, ever since he saw her in his classroom. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of taking her against every free surface in the hall, as well as in his office. He didn’t have a chance to explain that to her though, as she shifted beneath him and lined him up at her entrance.

She was all slick skin and warm, soft wetness and he pushed into her. With a breathy sigh, her head fell back, eyes rolling back, and he took advantage of her attention elsewhere to look down at where they were joined. Watching as his hips rocked into hers, he breathed her name, gripping her hip and fighting the urge to press her down into the cushions with his weight.

Aelin’s hands snaked around the back of Rowan’s neck and she pulled him against her, kissing him, urgently. Rowan pulled out slowly before thrusting himself back into her, over and over and over again, relentlessly. It felt so good, so right. He kept his pace, pushing into her harder each time, until she was screaming, his name falling from her lips continuously.

Rowan’s moan became muffled against her neck as her knees began to quiver around him. As he felt her come, he knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on much longer.

When he came, Aelin was clinging to him, still coming down from her high.

Rowan’s body fell against hers, and her body remained wrapped around his as they caught their breaths.

She was unable to stop herself from running her fingers up and down his back, even going so far as to brush them through the short hair at the nap of his neck. There was no question what he would say after he pulled out and cleaned her up.

This was a mistake.

We shouldn’t have done that.

You need to go.

Aelin wasn’t sure which it would be or if it would be some mixture of the three. All she knew is that it would hurt.

Seeing him in class every day, knowing that this connection existed between them, aside from just sex, was going to hurt.

Pulling back, his green eyes found hers and she braced herself for him to ask her to leave.

But then he kissed her again.

“I was going to order dinner,” he said, lips still brushing hers. “If you want to stay.”

Aelin hesitated, but not because she didn’t want to stay.

Rowan picked up on it, though. “Or, if you don’t want to…” he began, pushing himself up off of her.

Aelin shook her head and held onto him, pulling him back down on top of her. “No, it’s not that, it’s the opposite.” She laughed, quietly. “I was just…preparing myself for you to say…anything but that.”

Rowan’s eyes softened as he nodded, slowly. “So…you do want to stay, then?”

Aelin brushed his damp hair off of his forehead. “Am I allowed to stay?”

“Right now, what we’re allowed to do is the last thing on my mind,” Rowan breathed, leaning down to kiss her softly. “Right now, all I’m thinking about is ordering dinner and having you here with me.”

She nodded, smiling softly. “That sounds nice.”

“Okay,” he replied, returning her smile. “Stay here. I’ll be back.”

“Okay.”

Just as he did the last time, he returned with a warm rag, wiping her off and cleaning her up. He also returned with his shirt, the one she’d intended to return, rather than her clothes.

“I’m on the pill, by the way,” she said, glancing over at him as he pulled his own sweatpants back on.

He blinked once, as if he’d just realized they hadn’t used a condom.

And he’d come inside her.

“I…really should have asked before I just assumed.” He rubbed at the back of his neck again. “I’m sorry.”

Aelin chuckled, quietly. “Don’t worry. If I wasn’t prepared, I wouldn’t have let you inside of me to begin with.”

“Fair enough,” Rowan said, sitting next to her on the couch. “In my defense, our last…encounter is still a little fuzzy when it comes to the little details.”

When they’d been together last, there had been a lot of alcohol…and Rowan couldn’t remember if he’d used a condom then, but he couldn’t imagine that he had.

He sent up a quick thank you to the gods for the creation of birth control.

Now, he put his arm around Aelin as he pulled up the menu to a little local Mexican restaurant a block down the road. “What’re you in the mood for?”

Aelin hummed and looked through the menu as Rowan scrolled through it. “Chimichanga. And a taco. Make it two. With a side of rice. And a bowl of queso.”

Rowan gave her an amused glance as he entered all of her requests into the cart.

“What?” She asked, huffing a laugh. “You’re the reason I worked up an appetite.”

“Fair enough,” he laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple. He ordered their food, thankful that his favorite restaurant down the road was still serving margaritas to-go, and then set his phone aside.

It was quiet for a minute and when he glanced over at Aelin, she was brushing the end of a lock of her hair over her lips.

He loosened it from her fingers and she looked over at him. “What’s on your mind?”

She shrugged. “I’m trying to figure out where we’re going from here, what we’re doing…”

She was still only wearing his shirt, her leggings and own shirt still strewn somewhere around his kitchen. He turned to face her, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. “It’s been less than a week and I can’t get you off my mind. I’ve tried, but… I don’t want to.”

Aelin hesitated. “I feel the same way. But….your job-.”

“I’ll keep my job-.”

“And my future-.”

“I won’t ask you to do this if you don’t want to do this,” Rowan said. “I’m more than willing to keep us a secret. I just want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too,” Aelin breathed. “But is it really a relationship if we have to hide all the time?”

“You won’t be in school forever,” he said, taking her face into his hands. “Soon, you’ll graduate and then we won’t have to hide anymore.”

She was quiet for another moment, so he added, “You wanted to date me before you found out who I was. If you’re not interested anymore because of that, I get it—.”

“It’s not that,” she replied, leaning into his palm. “I just worry about the consequences.”

“Damn the consequences,” he murmured, leaning in to kiss her. “And we’ll be careful, to make sure nobody knows. Not a soul.”

She made a face and for a second, he got worried, but she said, “I may have gotten wine drunk on Tuesday and told my roommate. But she’s my best friend, and she wouldn’t tell anyone.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “I got whiskey drunk and told mine. So we’re even.”

That made her laugh and the sight and sound loosened the strain in his chest,

“How do we do this?” She asked, covering one of his hands with hers.

“Carefully,” he said, and kissed her, slowly. “And one day at a time.”

“I can do that,” she said, and climbed into his lap, straddling his waist.

“Me too,” he promised.

“We’ll have to lay down some ground rules,” he replied, his hands immediately finding her ass. He hadn’t forgotten she wasn’t wearing underwear. “Like minimal contact in class. We can’t seem too…familiar.”

She nodded. “That’s reasonable. And no special treatment from you. I’m still your student, whether we’re having sex or not.”

“Special treatment?” He chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, like you can’t grade my papers or exams easier because we’re sleeping together.” She was running her hands over his bare chest, following the lines of his tattoo. Her eyes met his and went wide. “Or harder. Not unless you’re willing to give extra tutor sessions.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, but leaned up, capturing her lips in a kiss. “I promise, I’ll treat you just like every other student I have. Except for the fact that we’re having sex. That is just for you.”

“So,” she mumbled, acting shy all of a sudden. Rowan thought it was adorable. “You’re saying we’re exclusive?”

Rowan’s eyes softened. “I sure as hell don’t want to be seeing anyone else.”

“Pretty sure that’s the definition of exclusive,” she said.

Rowan huffed a laugh, his fingers gripping her ass a little tighter. “Then yes, smart ass.”

Aelin’s grin widened. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Rowan pulled her closer into him before kissing her, yet again.

He liked kissing Aelin.

He didn’t think he would ever grow tired of kissing Aelin.

“So what excuse should I give to women when they throw themselves at me?” Rowan asked. “You know, since I can’t tell anyone that you’re my girlfriend.”

She snorted. “Do women throw themselves at you often?” His raised eyebrow was enough of an answer. That and Aelin was living proof that, yes, women did throw themselves at him. Chuckling, she said, “Right. Maybe the old, generic excuse of I’m working on myself right now. Don’t really have time for a girlfriend.”

She dropped her voice an octave when she said it, doing a horrible impression of Rowan’s deep voice, but he laughed. “I guess that would work. And you’re obviously so focused on your studies,

since it’s your last semester, that you don’t even have time to think about dating.”

“I do take my studies seriously,” Aelin said, and though her tone was stark, her eyes were playful.

“I can tell you do.” Rowan was leaning in to kiss her again when there was a knock on the front door.

They both jumped, Aelin going so far as to climb off of his lap, when Rowan realized it was their dinner.

She blushed as he went to retrieve it, grabbing two glasses for the margaritas.

“Are you going to jump every time we order food?” Rowan asked, sitting next to her with a pile of to-go boxes. He handed her a margarita.

Aelin chuckled as she took it. “Are you?”

Rowan sipped from his glass as he grinned. When he set it on the coffee table, he said, “I guess this will just take some getting used to.”

“I guess it will,” Aelin agreed, pulling her knees up on the couch as she began to flip open the boxes. “But I’m okay with that.”

Rowan leaned over to kiss her, softly, as he said, “Me too.”

#rowaelin #fanfic #snacmc ttf #rowaelin ttf #rowan #aelin #tog #modern au #college au #fanfiction #sjm #snacmc collab

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hopelesshunny · 3 years

Text

the love languages part i: gifts (f.w.)

pairing: fred weasley x fem!reader

summary: fred doesn't like to admit that he gets jealous when it comes to his girlfriend, after a overhearing a conversation where the love of his life is the topic he goes shopping.

warnings: jealously, slight possessiveness, greasy comments from greasy guys, kissing, fred playfully slaps y/n's butt once.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: this is the first instalment of my love language series, i'm hoping to update it over the next four mondays!! i'm starting a taglist for this series and for my future writings in general which you'll find here, i'm so excited to keep writing for this series and i'd love to hear what y'all think of it - my ask is always open and i can't wait to hear your opinions!!

*all photos are from pinterest*

series masterlist // part ii // part iii // part iv

Fred laid back on his bed, his hands clasped behind his head as he watched his girlfriend adjust her uniform in the mirror. Fred had known Y/N for years but she had become a Weasley family staple after she rescued a very stressed Ron in the library who was pouring over a potions essay that Hermoine had refused to help with. It wasn’t until they had convinced Y/N to spend the summer at the Burrow with them this past year that Fred had finally worked up the nerve to express his feelings for her, and now here she was flashing him that sunshine smile in his dorm room, his mirror, making her way over to kiss his lips.

“You’re staring Freddie.” She giggled, as she plopped down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Can’t help it angel.” He replied, pressing a sweet kiss to her forehead. “You’re just too good to be all mine.”

“Well-” she started “I can assure you that I am, my love.” He chuckled as he placed another kiss to her lips. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of his lips on hers for a little longer than she probably should have. In all honesty, Y/N had been crushing on Fred for years, long before he had even known who she was. She had simply intended on observing him from afar, sneaking in quiet chuckles at the jokes he and George cracked in class, stealing quick glances at him across the Great Hall as he teased his siblings. But when she developed quite the unlikely friendship with his younger brother and they had invited her to their family home, Fred started to see her in a different light. Y/N had been at the Burrow for over a month when Fred finally realized that maybe the reason he always wanted to be close to her and that he laughed the hardest at her jokes wasn’t just because he wanted to be her friend, he wanted to be her boyfriend, he was in love with her.

She was everything he had ever wanted, the perfect girl for him, but her being perfect made her quite the center of attention. Fred would never admit that he was jealous but the stares she attracted as the pair walked down the hallways always got to him. However, she never noticed the way other people looked at her, probably because she was too busy staring at him, too focused on the feeling of his hand in hers.

“Freddie.” She whined, wriggling in his grasp. “I’ve got to get to the library and you’ve got practice.” She giggled as he buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent.

“The library isn’t going anywhere and they won’t mind if I’m late.” He mumbled which earned a playful scoff from her.

“I have a feeling that your lateness will not be excused.” She replied as he groaned into her skin.

“Fine.” He spoke before placing a playful smack to her butt, signalling for her to move off of him so he could reluctantly get ready for quidditch practice.

“Don’t worry Freddie, I'll find you once you're done.” She cooed, placing a kiss to his lips before making her way out of his room and down the hall, leaving him breathless, once again.

Fred quickly got dressed and started the trek towards the pitch, his head flooded with the thoughts of Y/N, a smile seemed permanently etched on his face. Until he overheard voices from around the corner; there stood two Ravenclaw boys leaning against the wall, and the topic of discussion happened to be his girlfriend. Fred gritted his teeth at the sound of her name coming from such mouths, his jaw becoming tight as he felt his hands ball themselves into fists.

“No, I’m telling you, she knows how to fill a uniform.” One of them groaned as the other laughed in agreement. The thought of someone staring at her, making such comments about his girlfriend made him angry, but the fact that they were looking at her like that, like she was nothing more than a body, infuriated him. She was so much more than that, sure she was gorgeous but she also helped his younger siblings with their homework when they couldn’t figure something out, she baked bread with his mother on Sunday mornings and always reassured him when he felt like the entire world was against him.

“You’re right.” The other remarked. “Don’t know what she sees in Weasley. Merlin, she could do so much better.” He added, running a hand through his hair. Fred couldn’t listen any longer, couldn’t handle the garbage he was hearing.

“And I assume you think you’re better eh?” Fred spoke as he sulked his way out of the shadows, causing the two boys to jump at the sound of his voice. “Quiet now, are we?” He chuckled.

“It’s only the truth Weasley, she’ll leave you at the sight of someone better.” The braver of the two spoke. “You’ll be tossed out soon enough.” Fred could feel the anger bubbling inside of him, but he knew that Y/N would despise the thought of him fighting, especially over her.

“We’ll see about that.” He breathed, feigning a lack of bother, the two boys stared at him, shocked at his response as he simply walked past them.

The week had melted itself into the weekend and the thought of his conversation in the hallway still plagued him, he knew Y/N wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t simply drop him if someone better came along. He knew that she loved him, knew that she barely even noticed those who were interested in her no matter how persistent their efforts in pursuing her were. But he needed something, something to prove that she was his, something that could show that she was proud to be his. After seething over this for the past week, thinking about constantly pulling his jumper over her head or maybe just never letting go of her hand in an attempt to keep greasy eyes off of her, it finally hit him and after a sneaky visit to a jewelry store he had a solution.

“Hey princess.” He spoke, excitement evident in his tone as he took his spot next to Y/N in front of the tree she was leaning against.

“Hi, my love.” She replied, abandoning the book she was reading to lay her head in his lap. He sighed with content, running his fingers through her hair as she gazed up at him, nothing but pure love gracing her features.

“I got you something.” Fred said softly as he ran a thumb across her cheek, she looked up at him, taking the hand that wasn’t occupied on her face into her own, interlacing their fingers.

“Freddie-” She started, but he stopped her, pressing a finger to her lips.

“No, no, no.” He protested. “I know you always say you don’t need gifts but this one means a lot to me.” She stared at him curiously as he continued to speak.

“I overheard these guys talking about you and I tried to not let it get to me but I- I couldn’t.” He spoke, her face softening. “I know you love me and I love you more than anything, I just wanted to get you something that could show everyone that, that could show you that.” He ran his fingers through his crimson hair and let out a shaky breath as she brought his hand to her mouth, gently kissing each knuckle. He was so nervous, he had planned exactly how to go about this in his head, but here in this situation, with her staring up at him with those eyes, all previous thoughts of smooth words and flirting were abandoned. He wanted nothing more than to spill his guts to her, tell her every single reason why he loved her, kiss every inch of her body.

“I always say I don’t get jealous when it comes to you, but I do, I hate it when other people look at you the same way I do.” Her lips quirked into a smile. “You’re the love of my life Y/N, there is absolutely no one out there better for me than you, I’m all in.”

“I couldn't agree more Freddie, all my bets are on you.” Y/N said, rising from her spot in his lap to straddle him. She placed her palms against either side of his face, resting her forehead against his closing her eyes and feeling the heat of his cheeks against her hands. Fred reached into his jacket pocket to reveal a small velvet box, Y/N’s eyes grew wide at the sight. He chuckled, sensing her surprise.

“It’s not an engagement ring angel.” He started, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “At least not yet.” He opened the box, where a simple silver necklace sat, four letters sat in the middle, his name in plain script. Y/N gasped, her hands flying to her mouth as Fred pulled the necklace out of the box and loosened the clasp.

“May I?” He asked, a grin etching itself on his face.

“Of course.” She whispered as he placed the chain around her neck.

“There.” He spoke, leaning back to admire her, she looked so pretty with his name lying against her skin. “What do you think?” He asked, his voice quiet as he searched her face for some sort of indication into how she felt about the gift. She stayed quiet for a moment, simply staring down at the necklace, she ran a finger across the letters as Fred bit his lip, nervous at her sudden silence.

“I love it Freddie.” She whispered, pulling his face to hers capturing his lips with her own before kissing his forehead, both his cheeks, his nose, his eyelids, his lips again and again. He broke into a full fledged laugh until he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

“Oh no princess, don’t cry.” He chuckled, wiping away stray tears.

“They’re happy tears Freddie.” She giggled. “Just love you so much.”

“I bet I love you more though.” He retorted, resting his hands on her waist as he buried his face in the crook of her neck. “I’ll have to buy you more gifts if you keep kissing me like that.”

Y/N sighed in response, her fingers twirled in the hair at the nape of his neck. They both knew that Fred could never buy her another gift for as long as they both lived and she would still love him as much as she did in this very moment. There was so much uncertainty in the future but right now, with his name around her neck and his arms wrapped so tightly around her waist she knew that no matter what happened in the next month, the next year and for the rest of her life, her love would be completely and utterly Fred Weasleys.

taglist (join here!!)

@onlyfreds

#fred #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fic #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley series #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fluff #hp fic #hp

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mandoalorian · 3 years

Note

Agent whisky (Teacher) x New agent (student). As you’re both fighting, you both get hot and bothered and reader throws him against a wall and the rest in folds. (Fem reader)

After Class [Jack Daniels x Reader] SMUT

Word count: 2.4k

Rating: 18+

Warnings: SMUT, p in v, creampie, choking, teacher x student, exhibitionist kink, implied age difference

Masterlist

He was insufferable. He was your teacher — and oh, you hated him. You hated how he'd come into class smelling like sweet, honeyed cologne, causing all the girls to swoon at the mere sight of him. It was laughable, really. He wasn't anything special. He was attractive, sure. He had the charm of a king and the politeness of a saint. But it didn't matter because you hated him, and you wanted him to know that you hated him. So you'd talk during his lectures and you'd roll your eyes whenever he tried addressing you directly. He had this know-it-all attitude, he had these deep, chocolate brown eyes that were so easy to get lost in. The Statesman Academy shouldn't have even hired him. It was so easy to get lost in those damn eyes.

His eyes were just a few shades darker than his hair, which he kept hidden under a cringe-worthy cowboy hat. But you'd be lying to yourself if you said you hadn't dreamt of wearing it while you ride him. The dirty fantasies about Mr Daniels (though he'd have you call him 'sir') didn't become regular until a few months ago. Now it was every single class where you became hypnotised by his attractive looks.

You hated his perfectly groomed mustache and how the thought of it brushing against your cunt haunted you during his seminars. You hated the perfect curve in his nose and how you imagined it nudging against your clit as he performed the most life changing oral on you. If only he knew about the things that went on in that filthy little mind of yours.

You practically gasped out loud when Mr Daniels dropped your assignment on the desk in front of you, a circle with a big red 'F' marked on. He quirked an inquisitive eyebrow at you, before moving on to hand out the rest of the essays. No way— there was no way that your essay has been marked fairly. You might have been slacking just a little this semester (due to Mr Daniels obnoxious handsome looks), but not to the extent of getting an F in your finals!

"Well done class, we all performed exceptionally well this term. There is however one person I need to see after class, she knows who she is," Mr Daniels glanced briefly at you and you narrowed your eyes, folding your arms over your chest. "But have an excellent vacation and remember don't party too hard." He winked cheekily before dismissing the class. Once the students filed out of the room, and the bell rang, signifying the end of the day, Mr Daniels stalked back into the classroom. He said nothing, didn't even spare you a look. He padded over to his desk, sunk into his chair and began to go through paperwork.

You waited for something— anything. The silence was deafening, and you began to tap your feet against the floor impatiently. Why the hell was he holding you hostage in his stuffy classroom on the last day of term? You assumed it was due to your abysmal grade on your essay, but he hadn't even mentioned it. He was ignoring you and once again, you hated him for it.

You were staring him out with absolutely no shame, taking in all his features. You admired his broad shoulders and watched his bicep flex as he wrote comments on the work he was checking through.

He'd noticed your staring too. He always had. He tried to contain the blush that crept up on his cheeks as your eyes burned into his body, watching his every move. You could cut the sexual tension with a knife. If he was going to speak to you about your essay result, he'd need to have a drink first. After a few more minutes of silence, he excused himself and left the classroom. Each professor at the academy had their own affinity for alcohol, Mr Daniels' beverage of choice being a glass of warm whiskey. He poured it into a small tumbler, admiring the amber liquid as he dropped a few cubes of ice in, letting it clink against the glass. The mere thought of you in his classroom, waiting for you, was enough to make his cock stir. He sighed, gulping down the liquid and made his way back to the classroom. It was the first time you and Mr Daniels had some one on one alone time. He hadn't drank enough to get intoxicated, but it was enough for him to lower his inhibitions.

He walked into the classroom and locked the door behind him, before turning to face you.

"Why am I here?" you asked with an unamused frown.

"You went from being a straight A student to getting an F in your most important exam of the year," Mr Daniels huffed with a disappointed shake of his head. You didn't care— no, you couldn't let yourself care about your professor. But seeing the despondency written across his face was enough to make your heart yearn with guilt for letting him down. "What happened?" he quizzed you eventually.

You considered his question. You weren't a dishonest person, and you knew exactly what had happened. You had been so distracted by your professor's ravenous demeanor, that you'd become too overcome with sexual desire to even focus the slightest in his lectures.

"You happened." you said, regretting the words as soon as they left your lips. Your voice broke slightly— you sounded pathetic.

"Excuse me?" he asked, raising both of his eyebrows in disingenuous surprise. You wanted to wipe the smirk that you saw creeping up on his lips. Your education wasn't a joke.

"I was doing fine in Agent Tequila's class," you acknowledged. "Maybe it's your teaching." you shrugged.

"My teaching?" Mr Daniels gasped incredulously.

"Oh quit playing dumb," you said, suddenly rising to your feet. Your chair scraped against the floor as you stalked over to your teacher. "I know my worth Mr Daniels, and it's not an F."

"Please, call me Jack." He hummed, reaching out and caressing your cheek. You subconsciously leaned into his smooth hand as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your jaw. You hadn't even realised how close he had gotten to you as he admired your face, and the intimacy began to take effect down below.

"Oh, first name basis?" you spat sarcastically, pressing the palm of your hand against his chest, threading your fingers through the buttons of his white shirt so you could gently graze the skin of his tan chest. "How polite."

"Manners maketh man," he smirked, quoting the Statesman mantra, and you wanted to wack that dumb cowboy hat off his head. "Let me translate that for you," he pouted condescendingly, letting his hands fall to your own chest.

He squeezed your tits through your blouse, drawing a few wanton moans from you. "Wh- what makes you think I need that translated?" you asked your professor, trying to keep your cool. This is exactly what you had dreamt about for the past three months. His thumb rolled over your hardening nipples, pinching them now and again so he could watch you squirm underneath his touch.

"The F on your paper?" he shot back. Your eyes widened and you pushed him into the wall, his back slamming against the concrete as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on him. He would be lying if he said it didn't feel good though. It was rare he'd have a lady take charge — especially not one as young and bright eyed as yourself.

"I hate you," you snarled as his fingers dipped under the hem of your short, pleated skirt. He chuckled darkly, sending a frenzy of butterflies erupting in your stomach.

"Oh sugar," he drawled, the smell of scotch lacing his breath as he pressed a soft kiss into your jaw. You couldn't contain the small whimper that escaped your lips. He smirked, knowing exactly what he could do to you— how he could make you feel. "Look at you… got me pressed against the wall. I'm your teacher." he reminded you with a small tut.

"You drive me crazy," you admitted in a fluster, your hand falling down his button up shirt and resting at his oversized belt buckle. The coolness of the metal stung your skin as you parted your legs slightly, rubbing what you could on his jean clad thigh. "When you stand up there, in front of the class, talking all that shit about, about-" you couldn't even get your words out as his fingers graced your cunt, feeling out your clit under the material of your dampening panties.

"What?" Jack murmured, his teeth grazing your jaw as he sucked softly against your skin. "What is it?" he urged you to continue, your breathing jumping as he continued to softly press his thick fingers along your aching core. You tried to answer but nothing except lewd moan came out, and you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment. "You joined the academy. You wanted to train as an agent. Maybe you'd prefer it if I transferred your classes to, let's say, Agent Champ? Or the sweet Ginger Ale?"

You curled your fingers around his leather belt. "N-no," you growled. "I want you," you revealed as you unclipped it and tossed it to one side. You groaned wantonly as you felt his erection press up against your thigh. It was clear that your professor wanted you too. "You know if- if Principal Champ finds out about this…" you moaned, working your fingers at Jack's zipper.

"He's not going to find out about this," Jack snapped, his harsh tone causing your eyes to snap open.

"O-okay cowboy," you bit your lip seductively, finally pulling his zipper down and freeing his hard, aching cock. You immediately wrapped your hand around him, smearing his precum down his length and started to pump at his erection, satisfied with the string of curses falling from his tongue.

"Fuck- so good," Jack praised as you worked his cock with your hands. "But I want more… I want to bury my cock in the warmth of your pussy. Would you like that baby girl?" he hummed, both his hands grabbing on your shoulders as he turned around and pushed you into the wall. You gasped as he ripped open your blouse in one swift manouver, the buttons popping and falling everywhere. His hungry lips pressed against yours as he slid his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly and with passion.

"Someone could just walk in." you gasped as Jack yanked your skirt down, letting it pool around your ankles.

He groaned longingly as he played with the waistband of your panties. "Lace? For school? I knew you were a dirty girl." he chuckled darkly before pulling them down. He wasted no time, pressed two fingers into your weeping cunt and rubbing between your folds. He stroked tight and precise circles into your clit, desperate to pump an orgasm out of you before he even entered. Your eyes snapped shut as you pressed your fingernails into his still clothed back. "Oh, you like that don't you?"

"Mm don't stop," you begged, rolling your hips against his fingers.

"Is this what you think about during my lectures?" Jack cooed. "Or do you imagine my cock?" He pressed his blunt tip against the inside of your thigh, pushing himself in between your legs. "So fucking wet and all for me." your professor shook his head in slight awe. You pushed the hat off his head and tangled your fingers in his dark brown hair, tugging teasingly in attempt to gain a reaction out of him.

Without warning, two of his fingers pushed inside of you and began to scissor you open. "If you want my cock I gotta make sure you're able to take it," he whispered huskily.

His fingers worked like magic and it wasn't long before your walls tightened around him and you reached your climax. "Greedy pussy." Jack sighed, removing his fingers and sucking them clean.

"Please sir, fuck me," you begged, your hands cupping his face as he lined himself up with your entrance.

"I told you, call me Jack," he growled before pushing himself deep into your quivering hole.

"Fuck Jack," you whined once he was fully seated. He was bigger than you had ever taken before, and he set a brutal pace. The classroom filled with obscene wet sounds as every single thrust became harder and sloppier as his balls slapped against your dripping cunt.

Jack kept up his pace, not halting once. "You always- you always fucking answer back," he whispered, digging one hand into your hip and bringing the other to your neck, squeezing it just enough for your eyes to widen slightly.

"Mm you always give me a reason too," you shot back and Jack's grip around you tightened as he fucked you senselessly.

"Shit, gonna cum. Gonna cum inside you and you're going to take it— understood?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded in affirmation and it only took a few more messy thrusts before he spilled his salty seed inside you.

He carefully sat you down on the edge of his desk as you came down from your own high. "Are you okay?" he asked you as he tucked himself back in his pants and adjusted his tie.

"That better have earned me an A," you muttered, biting your lip and shooting a seductive glance towards your teacher.

"Fair is fair," Jack shrugged. "You can leave when you're ready. Have a nice vacation." he smiled, back to his usual polite professor self. It made you sick— the way he could just fuck you with no remorse against the wall of his classroom and then pretend like nothing happened.

You stood up, taking your clothes from the ground and lazily sliding back into your skirt. "I don't have a fucking blouse," you mumbled, your eyes following the abundance of buttons that trailed across the floor. "You ruined it."

Mr Daniels took his suit jacket and wrapped it around your naked torso, buttoning it up gently so you were all covered up. "Do you need a lift home?" he asked.

You bit your lip, remembering your parents weren't home and smiled. "Actually, yeah please." you told him, wondering if he'd be interested in a round two.

Taglist — let me know if you wish to be added!

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja190 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey #jack daniels #jack daniels smut #agent whiskey smut #kingsman

681 notes · View notes

stickyy · 3 years

Note

I loved what you wrote about student! college! aizawa,if it's not too much trouble,I would like to read a second part but it contains a sub!aizawa,dom!reader,mommy kink and pegging please. I have to take advantage of the fact that you are the first blog with dark content that I see that accepts pegging,an opportunity that I will not miss,but if it gets complicated for you oh you don't like it,you can reject my request.

DISCLAIMER: always ask for consent first!

warnings: DUBCON, sub!aizawa, edging, verbal abuse, bondage, pegging, gn!reader but light mommy kink is used in reference to, praise kink if you squint?, slightly unrealistic depictions of pegging, reader is fed up but that doesnt excuse their actions :P

word count: 3489

notes: sorry for the delay, i hope u like anon! :D there should always be more pegging fic out there

part 1 here

EXAM SEASON

Finals season is quickly approaching, sending the entire campus into a frenzy, students scrambling like displaced ants trying to finish last minute assignments, novel-esque essays, merciful extra credit projects. The workload takes its toll on everyone, even the star students. You found Aizawa in even worse moods more frequently; a schedule consisting of all nighters spent studying old material followed by early classes and a job on the side, he was absolutely exhausted. You sometimes sneak a peek over at him during class to see his head bobbing slightly, bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open as he fights sleep. A small part of you feels bad for him; he’s a diligent student, and you were sympathetic to his exhaustion.

You still hate the asshole, though.

You found yourself snagged in a twisted sort of arrangement with Aizawa after midterms. There was always a half-assed attempt at tutoring you before giving up and cramming his cock down your throat or deep inside your cunt, leaving you sore and dripping with his cum, all the while spewing insults targeted at your intelligence (or lack thereof). In exchange, he’d complete your assignments and allow you to copy his answers on exam days. Ignoring the situation is where you make peace with yourself; you feel used, but you also have no other option if you want to pass this class.

What you hate the most is the way you roll over and take it. You’re more than just a hole to fuck, you know that, but you’re helpless against his searing abuse and venomous scowls. Even when you try to be nice, it only makes him crueler, your soft pleas and offers of peace an invitation to tear you down and make you cry. You want to fight, to claw and tear into him out of spite. You don’t want to feel so weak anymore.

So, you decide to do something about it.

It’s late, campus illuminated by street lamps and headlights of cars passing by as you make your way into the dorms. After your first encounter, Aizawa began inviting you back to his room instead of the library, deciding to “study” in his personal space as opposed to possibly getting caught in the library with his cock down your throat. You didn’t complain, but it’s especially convenient today, with what you have planned. Knocking on the door softly, you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, anxious for what’s to come.

“Open,” he calls out from inside, prompting you to enter. You pass through the messy common room he shares with his roommate and enter his bedroom, opening the door quietly. Aizawa’s room is tidy compared to the outside, bed made, tousled only where he sits with his laptop, typing.

“You’re late,” he squints at you from behind the screen, shutting the device. “Not surprising.”

“Sorry,” you mutter, placing your book bag on the floor and taking out the very heavy law textbook (that you hadn’t bothered to open since midterms). You take your seat next to him and open to the most recent chapter you read over. He’s silent, only speaking to answer your questions as you focus on the text. You can tell he’s sleepy, his responses slurred and delayed, and you glance over to see him dozing off. Late study sessions and Aizawa’s recent exhaustion meant more often than not that he fell asleep before tormenting you. The first time was startling, but you learned that it was a regular occurrence.

You prefer Aizawa when he’s drowsy. His usually hard features were softened, quiet snores rumbling from his chest. His dark hair messily framing his face as he leans back against the headboard of his bed, arms folded over his chest. He’s good-looking, no doubt. If his personality matched, you could see yourself falling for him.

His eyes open, shooting you a questioning look, and you duck your head back into your textbook, embarrassed at being caught staring.

You keep quiet for another 20 or so minutes, waiting until he’s truthfully asleep and not just resting. You have to be careful not to wake him, as you aren’t keen on being reprimanded for what you're about to do.

Once you’ve deemed it safe, you stealthily open your bag and retrieve the small plastic bag stored inside. With the help of online shopping, you bought some handcuffs, lube, a dildo, and a harness. You aren’t all into pegging, but this was less about the sex and more about proving yourself, forcing him to respect you, in some perverse way. You retrieve the cuffs, gripping them carefully as to not make any sounds. This is the most crucial part; as long as you could get him restrained, you’d could dish out any revenge you desire. You slip off of the bed and tip-toe, almost comically, around the other side of the bed. You test the waters, snapping your fingers near Aizawa. He doesn’t stir, chest rising and falling with his deep breathing.

You steel yourself with a deep breath; this was your chance. You make quick work with the handcuffs, gently yet hastily clicking the metal around one wrist and looping the cuffs through the headboard before securing his other wrist. A grin spreads across your face; you’re thankful he’s such a deep sleeper.

Now that you had him where you wanted him, you were paralyzed by the sheer amount of possibilities. You climb over him apprehensively, hovering over the unconscious man, who only shifts minutely. The peaceful look on his face puts a small pit in your stomach; this was wrong… right? Technically, this was assault. You frown, a small chill running down your spine. Is this what you had become? It was almost enough to convince you to stop, but you force yourself to remember the first time Aizawa had his way with you, the way you choked and gagged and had to hide your face until you could find a bathroom to wipe off the dried cum that adhered to your skin.

This was his fault; he made you like this.

“Fuck it,” you say aloud, bracing yourself before grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking, hard. He awakes with a surprised gasp, wrenching his head away from the assault.

“The fuck?” He bites, eyes drowsily scouring the situation. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Just waking you up,” you smile, releasing your grip. “It’s kind of boring watching you sleep. I thought we were supposed to be studying.”

Aizawa gives you an agitated look, disoriented as he tries to move, only to find his range of motion limited. “You fucking handcuffed me?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t wake up,” you chuckle, sliding your hands under his shirt and running your hands over his taut stomach. He keeps his eyes on you with an expectant expression, waiting for an explanation.

“You know, I like you so much more when you're asleep,” you continue, idly tracing patterns on the skin of his abdomen. “No insults, no curses, no glaring. You’re pretty handsome when you’re not being a total douchebag.”

“Let me go,” he ignores you, yanking the handcuffs. “This isn’t funny.”

“I think it’s pretty funny, actually. You’ve spent all semester treating me like shit, and for what? All I’ve done is be nice to you, even after you call me names and abuse me. It hurts my feelings, you know? It’s not like I’m trying to fail this class, I just needed a little extra help, and you take advantage of that every week. So I do think this is pretty fucking hilarious. Maybe you’ll see just how great I feel when you bully me.”

If looks could kill, your heart would have stopped right then and there. Rage burns behind his glare when he meets your eyes, still struggling to break the cuffs. You’d never seen him like this; at his worst, he seems moderately annoyed in your day to day. Despite being an insufferable asshole, he always manages to keep a cool air about him. Never giving anyone much of a reaction, he’s only nasty when he desires. Watching his face take a red tint and his eyes narrow in frustration send waves of satisfaction rippling through your chest.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he grits out, “If you let me go now, I’ll forget all about this. I promise that you don’t want what’s coming for you once I get out of these cuffs.”

He did have a point; you had no idea what you were doing. That wasn’t going to stop you, though.

“Aw, it’s not so fun now, isn’t it?” You coo at him in a demeaning tone, pouting dramatically. Your wandering hands slid to his crotch, where you could feel his length stirring curiously. You bark out a laugh.

Pulling down his sweats and boxers, your mouth waters at his hardening length. Normally, your stomach would drop at the sight in anticipation for physical abuse you were about to receive. But this? This was different; knowing that you’re the one in control is absolutely captivating. You take his cock in your hands, slowly working your hand up and down. He stays silent in defiance, steady in his glare in an attempt to intimidate you. It would work, usually, but with his hands bound there was nothing he could do to you. He’s betrayed by a pleased noise that slips from his throat.

“Don’t tell me you like this? You want to be taken advantage of, is that it?” you taunt, basking in his agitation as you speed your hand up, thumbing the pre gathering on the slit.

“Watch it,” is his only response, voice dangerously low. He keeps quiet, not willing to surrender to the reactions you’re trying to draw from him. It’s a challenge, if anything, and you weren’t going to back down..

He’s fully erect in no time- you’ve spent enough time as his cocksleeve to know exactly what he likes and responds to. His eyes fall shut as you squeeze tighter, hips canting up into your hand, chasing his own release. You keep it up until he gets a little louder, close to release, and you pull your hand away, watching his dick twitch helplessly.

“Fuck- why’d you stop?” he asks groggily, opening his eyes.

“You didn’t think that I was just going to let you cum that easily, did you? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” you shuffle off of the bed, smiling over your shoulder as you hook your thumbs in the band of your leggings. You make a show of sliding the material down over your ass, purposefully leaning over and arching your back. You hear a pleased growl from the bed, causing you to giggle as you pull your underwear down as well.

“You could still let me go,” he offers, giving you a once over as you climb back over him, “I could forget about this if you let me fuck you.”

“Nice try, but I’ll be the one doing the fucking tonight,” you grab your bag from the floor, retrieving the lube but leaving the dildo and harness obscured in the bag. You squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers, causing Aizawa to give you a puzzled look.

“You don’t need lube, you’re always so wet for me,” it’s more of a question than an observation, since your previous trysts never included anything but his spit and your own juices. You just give him a smile before nudging his thighs open with your own, trailing your hand slowly beneath his balls, settling in between his ass and your lubed fingers circle the muscle there. The look on his face is priceless, absolutely shocked at the prospect of you inside of him. He thrashes in protest but you’re steadfast, pinning his hips down with your other hand.

“You can’t be serious,” his voice is alarmed, almost erring on the side of anxious, “you’re dumber than I thought if you think you’re just going to get away with any of this shit.”

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you sing-song, using your dry hand to tug playfully on the cuffs, “You’re a little tied up at the moment.”

“I’m going to beat your cunt up when I get out of these,” it’s a threat, and you ignore the way your stomach flutters at the words, eyes trained on his as you push two fingers inside.

He grunts, his face scrunching up, almost cutely, at the burn of the stretch. You expected him to be tight, but given how tense he is, it’s difficult to push all the way inside. You take it slow, savoring the pained expression on his face; it’s a stark contrast to his cocky demeanor when you’re being subjugated to his abuse. His chest is heaving, a lovely red flush spreading across his skin, eyebrows knit tight, lips bitten red- you’re obsessed. You move your fingers in and out slowly, scissoring just gently enough not to seriously hurt him, but enough to watch him writhe. His dick twitches despite (or maybe due to?) the pain, still red and dripping.

“This is priceless,” you laugh, “if you wanted to get fucked so badly, all you had to do was ask, you know? Mommy would’ve taken care of it for you.”

“Mommy?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you’re insane.”

Any further insult is cut off with a sharp gasp, eyes shooting open in shock, and you know you’ve found it.

You stroke his prostate with a heavy hand, grinding your fingers into the spongy spot inside of him as he struggles to breathe, back arching deliciously. You can’t help but smirk; you kind of get it now. If this is how tormenting you makes Aizawa feel, then you understand why he was so cruel.

“Fuck,” he chokes on a whine that sends heat down your spine, . Your wrist is beginning to strain, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s cute; he’s writhing, his hips seeking the stimulation he was previously avoiding as he moans openly, loudly. His cock is an angry purple, pre pooling on his stomach from where it’s leaking. He looks like he’s close, eyes beginning to roll back when you pull your fingers out, laughing as you ruin his orgasm for the second time.

“Please,” he’s breathless, a betrayed look on his face as his hips rock on nothing, desperate to cum.

“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten started yet!”

You reach over into the plastic bag, pulling out the dildo and harness. You can clearly see the fear on his face this time as he moves to sit up, the fog of pleasure clearing quickly.

“Wait,” panic sets in his voice yet again. If you were him, you would be scared too; the toy is thicker than the two fingers you used, something you chose purposefully. You stand and slip on the harness, ignoring his attempts to reason with you.

“What’s wrong? I thought I didn’t know what I was doing?” you ask innocently, forcing your hips between his legs and drizzling some lube on the toy, warming it up with your palm.

“That’s the fucking problem, you idiot, you don’t,” he seethes, pulling on the restraints again, “It won’t fit, and you’re not sending me to the hospital.”

“Exactly, I won’t send you to the hospital. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,” you coo, settling between his legs.

“Just let me go,” it’s the first genuine plea you’ve heard from him, the sincerity pulling your attention to his eyes where you see a look you can’t quite place. He looks… afraid? Remorseful? It’s enough to give you pause, equal parts consideration and schadenfreude. You settle for leaning forward and placing an uncharacteristically saccharine kiss on his forehead, your humanity getting the best of you.

“All you have to do is relax, okay?” you whisper, resting the tip of the toy against his entrance. He shuts his eyes in anticipation, resigned to his fate, and you push in gently, watching his hole swallow the silicone. The way Aizawa contorts, back bowed to scoot away from the pressure of the toy is salacious, drawing a moan from deep within your chest. He can’t get far due to the restraints, and he lets out a soft sob at the stretch of the toy, face scrunched tight. You push slowly until you bottom out, your hips pressed firmly against his, grinding in small circles to alleviate your own ache. He exhales shakily, unaware that he was holding his breath.

“See, it’s not so bad right?” you soothe, rubbing your thumb against his hip soothingly. “You should be grateful; I’m so much nicer than you are.”

“Fuck you,” it comes out weaker than intended, his voice strained as he tries to adjust to the girth of the toy.

You pull out slowly, experimentally, watching his stomach clench from the sensation of silicone caressing his insides. His dick gives an interested twitch, despite his demeanor, and that’s the invitation you need to start moving. It’s a little awkward at first, but your enthusiasm combined with the size of the toy more than makes up for your inexperience. He’s breathless, still uncomfortable, but you can see his body slowly relax as he tries to make sense of the sensations coursing through his body.

“You like this, don’t you?” you dig, eyes transfixed on his face, “Is that why you're so mean to me? You strut around like an asshole, just to hide the fact that you’re just a little bitch?”

You focus on angling your hips, searching for his prostate again, and when you find it, you commit to fucking him. He’s loud, stray tears sliding down his face as his body struggles to comprehend both the pain of the stretch and pleasure of the abuse.

“Fuck, you’re cute like this,” you sigh, “you’re meant for this, aren’t you? Meant to get your ass bred by your Mommy? You’d be so much more tolerable if you were sweet like this all of the time.”

His dick jerks violently but he shakes his head with a weak ‘no’, too lost in the sensation to retort any further. You’re soaked by now, the pressure of the toy on your end combined with the power trip pushing you to the edge. It takes all of your self-control, but you suddenly stop, unwilling to let yourself finish so quickly; there’s still unfinished business here.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” it comes out before you can even really think about it, but the words hang heavily in the air.

“Huh?”

“You’re never nice to me, so if you want me to even consider letting you cum, you better start kissing up.”

He hesitates, but when you shift slightly and the blunt head of the toy rubs against his prostate, he changes his tune very quickly.

“Fuck- you’re cute, ‘s the reason why I’m mean to you. So cute when you’re about to cry-” you give him a particularly hard slap on his ass and he winces, muttering a quick apology.

“You’re pretty even when I’m not fucking you, too,” is all you get, but it’s the first genuine compliment you’ve gotten out of the asshole since you’ve met him, and your heart soars. He’s awful and mean and evil but the simple statement is enough for you.

“I’ll let you cum if you beg for it,” you grunt, rutting your hips enthusiastically. You’re close, but you refuse to finish first. He’s needy, thanks to being edged twice, and he’s unable to resist your promise.

“Please, fuck, please let me cum,” he whimpers, voice wet and eyes watery.

“Please what?”

“Mommy! Fuck, please mommy, just let me cum, it hurts, fuck, please,” he babbles, and it’s enough for you. You wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it firmly, hips speeding up as you chase your own release. It’s quick- he finishes almost embarrassingly fast, and the whorish wail that rips from his throat sends you right over the edge, your vision blurring at the corners as you stay trained on his face, obscene and submissive.

It’s quiet after you stop, both of you catching your breath. You pull out slowly, watching the way his hole flutters and you giggle, your body and ego fully satiated. You look back to his face; he looks more fucked out than you’ve ever seen him, almost like he’s about to fall back asleep.

“Can we call it a truce?” You break the silence, grinning as he cracks open an eye to give you a scalding look.

“Fuck. You.”

455 notes · View notes

dracowars · 3 years

Note

I was wondering if you can write one with harry for me? Where harry and reader are dating around when sirius died in order of the phoenix and harry is very depressed about the stiuation and slowly disassociates from the reader and when he/she wanted to talk about it and lighten the weight on his shoulders harry says sth to reader along the lines "you are not my family and you are not my home" and a big fight eventually harry realises what he has done and gets very upset bc he loves her/him so much. They eventually make up but i want drama and tears you know lol i will be very happy if you can write this!!

don't shut me out | harry potter

pairing: harry x gryffindor!reader

word count: 2,5k

summary: where harry shuts y/n out after sirius' death

a/n: my first harry one shot, yayy! thank you for sending in this request <3

warnings: angst, cursing, mentions of death

universe: harry potter

"Please write an essay about the effects of the Anti-Paralysis Potion until next week", Professor Snape grimly finishes his lesson and immediately chaotic murmur breaks out in the classroom when all the other students pack up their things and leave for their well deserved break.

You on the other hand calmly close your book and slowly slide it into your bag before getting up from your seat with a sigh, but not without taking another look at the empty seat in front of you first.

Harry did not show up for class again today. This is the third time this week and even when he is in one of his courses, his mind is not there with him.

A week ago he returned to the common room, devastated, and Ron and Hermione even had to support him so he would not fall over. The only thing you knew at that time was that they were on a secret mission at the Ministry of Magic, but you did not know what a terrible disaster happened.

Harry did not exchange a word with you and went straight to bed that evening, leaving you behind confused and ignorantly until Hermione told you about the recent events. Sirius Black, Harry's godfather and last living relative, was killed right in front of his eyes through his own cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange. While Hermione told you what happened, tears were already uncontrollaby streaming down your face.

You knew exactly how much he meant to Harry.

Now that Harry has also lost the last remaining member of his family, he has shut himself off completely, hiding from the world, from his friend and also from you. Any attempts to talk to him have failed, but you keep a close eye on him everyday.

If he does not shown up at dinner again, you bring him a plate full of his favorite food to his room, even if it is without his consent, just to find it barely touched in the morning. If he misses another of his lessons again, you always take even more detailed notes than usual that you later give him so he is able to catch up on what he has missed so far, just to watch the pile grow bigger and bigger.

Every time you enter his room, it breaks your heart when you have to see how your boyfriend, whose face has lost all color by now, looks at you with such sad eyes and cannot even utter a different word at you than a simple 'thank you'. It pains you to see him like this, but he won't let you get to him anymore, he won't let you or his best friends help him.

He shuts himself off the world completely.

"Ms. Y/L/N", Snape suddenly approaches you as you are about to make your way out of the classroom. You look up at your grouchy professor, full of expectation and also a little scared.

"Tell Potter if he does not show up for my class one more time, he will fail", he explains seriously and you can only nod while his cold stare is fixed on you. "Very good."

Turning around, you quickly run out of the door and meet Ron and Hermione in the hallway in front of it, waiting for you.

"What took you so long? I am starving", Ron asks you oblivious as you make your way through the crowd of students in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Snape held me from going. If Harry does not show up for class soon, he will fail in all of his courses", you mutter and your thoughts immediately wander back to him and how he is doing right now.

"Snape can't do that! Dumbledore will not allow it anyway. Everyone knows what happened and no one is this cruel", Hermione breathes out in shock.

"We are still talking about Snape, you know that, right?", Ron replies, only catching an annoyed look from her at his words.

"I will talk to Harry again. Well, at least I will try", you sigh exhaustedly and just before reaching the Great Hall, you leave your friends alone and run up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room, entering it after saying the correct password.

Waisting no time, you walk up the stairs to the boys' dormitories and timidly knock on the door. Nothing, not a single sound comes from the inside when you knock a second time.

"Harry? It's me, Y/N. May I come in-"

"Get out!", his voice angrily shouts at you through the door and you back away in shock. There is so much sorrow in his voice, so much pain, so much fear.

So much hate.

"I am not going anywhere", you answer firmly and stand your ground before carelessly opening the door.

The sight that greets you when you enter lets your eyes widen to the maximum. The entire room has been demolished, your carefully written notes scattered in snippets on the floor, his books torn apart next to it and the whole furniture turned over.

And in the middle of it all there is Harry, breathing heavily, as emaciated as you have never seen him before, his hands clenched into fists, his fingernails already painfully digging into his palms. The expression on his face blank when his gaze meets yours.

Without saying a word, you slowly and carefully walk towards him, trying not to stumble over anything on the floor until you stand in front of him. And then you wait.

Wait for him to finally open up to you, wait for him to finally let everything out.

But he turns away.

"Harry", you breathe out barely audible and reach for his hand, which he pulls away in the last second, his eyes on the ground and his back to you.

"Go", he orders, now without any emotion in his voice.

Refusing to listen to his words and let him push you away another time, you circle him to stand right in front of him again.

"I said go!", he aggressively yells at you, but you are quick to catch his face between your hands and lift it up so he has to look at you, taking a good look at him while softly pressing your palms to his cheeks.

His cheeks are still damped from the numerous tears that have flowed over them, and his eyes are glassy, almost fragile.

"I am here for you", you claim in a low voice to not scare him away while you look deep into his eyes, in which you discover nothing but emptiness. "I can help you if you would just let me, Harry. Please don't shut me out."

For a brief moment there is silence, somehow pleasant and safe as it has always been between the two of you. In the next moment, however, your hopes are destroyed.

"I don't need your damn help!", he yells at you again and pulls away from you, running his hands through his hair desperately while you stay frozen in place.

You almost had him.

"You do need me! You can't just lock yourself up here for weeks, Harry!", you raise your voice as well, desperation evident in it.

"You can't tell me what to do!", he loudly shouts and the look he throws at you is again full of nothing but hatred.

"What happened to Sirius is horrible, but you have to move on some day and you can't do that if you do not talk to someone about it. I am your girlfriend and-"

"Exactly. You are just my girlfriend and not my family!", Harry angrily spits out all of a sudden, his words catching you off guard and you could swear how your heart has split into half right at this second. "You are not and never will be my home, get that into your head! I am sick of you, Y/N! How you pamper me like I am a fucking child and never know when to stop!"

"A-Are you serious r-right now?", you let out a trembling sob, the strength to scream at him gone when a tear rolls down your cheek. You look at him with complete disappointment, at the boy whom you love so much, who just hurt you so deep as you would have never imagined him to.

"Get the hell out of here!"

"Do you even hear what you are saying? You do not really mean that. Tell me that you do not mean that, Harry!"

"It is the only thing that I want", he grinds his teeth and you nod understandingly while wiping away your tears.

"Fine. If I can never be your home anyway, then I guess this is where it ends", you sniff and walk past him, your gaze lowered as you go out of the room and let the door slam shut behind you.

And he does not even follow you.

Deeply hurt and with a broke heart, you barely make it to your dorm room, where you slide down the closed door with your back and pull your knees close to your shaking body, weeping bitterly.

You do not know how long you sat there and just cried your eyes out, but when you hear Hermione's worried voice behind you, it is already dark outside and you missed all of your classes.

Exhausted, you let yourself fall into your soft mattress, hiding your tear stained face from your roommates, but of course Hermione immediately senses that something is wrong.

She approaches you carefully as to not frighten you and sits down next to you on your bed, stroking your back up and down soothingly, which in return only makes you cry harder into your pillow. After several minutes you finally manage to calm down and sit up.

Hermione looks at you speechless, does not urge you to tell her about what happened at all, but you do it anyway as it almost gushes out of you. And so you spend the whole night in your bed talking.

The next morning you are sitting in the Great Hall at breakfast, completely exhausted. While Ron allows himself another joke with Hermione, you stare down at your empty plate, your stomach not wanting to be filled.

"Did you finally got Harry back to his senses, Y/N?", Ron asks you out of nowhere, pulling you out of your deep thoughts, and you interpret a teasing tone in his voice.

Your eyes filling with tears in a matter of seconds, you abruptly get up and leave the hall, leaving a confused Ron and an angry Hermione behind as you run back into the common room and into your own room.

Again you let yourself fall to the floor behind the closed door, your arms crossed over your drawn up knees, your forehead resting on top. Without meaning to, your sobs get stronger by every second, shaking through your body while your breath speeds up to an unhealthy pace.

Your head and your heart just do not want to understand that what you and Harry once had is over, once and for all. That you will never wake up in his cozy, warm arms again. That you will never feel his tender touch again. And above all, that you can never look at him the same way you did before.

You lost him for good this time.

The sudden knock on the wooden door behind you causes your head to jerk up in surprise. Not sure if you just imagined it, you stay silent for a moment and hold back your crying.

Another gentle knock.

"Please leave me alone, Hermione", you sniff and lower your head again.

"Y/N", his voice sounds muffled from the other side unexpectedly and your heart leaps painfully.

You always loved the way he pronounced your name, how easily it slides off his tongue. Since your first meeting, back then on platform 9¾ where you immediately fell in love with him head over heels.

Speechless, you are unable to move or say anything, just blinking away your tears.

"I know that you are in there. I can hear you crying", he softly speaks to you through the door and finally causes you to get up from the ground and open the door with a swing.

"What do you want?", you calmly ask him, trying not to show the emotions going through your head right now, and avoid eye contact while playing with the hem of your sweater. It takes a moment for Harry to contain himself, the sight of your fragile figure like pure horror in his eyes.

A sight for which he is guilty. He alone did this to you.

After clearing his throat, he searchs for the right words to make everything alright again, to fix everything he said, anything just so he does not have to see you this devastated. However, there is not a single sound coming out of his mouth.

"If you have nothing to say, get out", you order with all your might and try to sound as serious and emotionless as possible, trying to hold back your rising tears.

At least until you suddenly end up in his warm, safe arms after he pulls you into a bone crushing hug before you could close the door on him. A hug you both needed more than necessary.

"I am such a stupid idiot", Harry whispers in your ear, also having trouble to hide his sadness. "You just wanted to be there for me and I pushed you away even though you could have given me exactly what I needed."

His words only make you more emotional and turn you into a crying mess, your face hiding in his chest. His hand slowly rubs over your back to calm you down. Your legs begin to tremble harder and Harry has to hold you upright with all his strength to not let you fall.

"I-I just could not accept that I was alone", Harry sighs as he listens to your sobs until you finally push yourself weakly away and stand in front of him, an arm's length apart.

"You are not alone", you choke out and Harry gives you a small, tender smile before closing the gap between you and gently placing his hand on your cheek. With his fingers he strokes the strands of hair out of your face that are already stuck to your skin due to the tears.

"I realized that too, sweetheart", he confirms and tilts your head towards him to leave a soft kiss on your forehead. "I can't erase what terrible things I said to and threw at you, but please believe me when I tell you that that I did not mean a single word. I just did not know how to move on and you were there to receive all of my anger.. Do you forgive me?"

"Only if you never shut me out like that again. I will always be here for you and take care of you, Harry. No matter what, I will stay", you answer, also with a tiny smile on your lips and when he returns it before connecting your lips you, the world around you suddenly becomes more colorful and bright again.

"I promise."

370 notes · View notes

wreckofawriter · 3 years

Text

Bubblegum

pairing: remus lupin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: language, none fluffy

summary: you know you annoy remus but that doesn't stop you from trying to get close to him

a/n: i actually like this fic more than I thought I would... anyway I'm actually motivated again so posts should be more frequent. I plan on writing the next part for pulled apart next

Remus has always been very good at ignoring distractions. Considering who his best friends were that was really no surprise to anyone around him. He had ignored parties and screams and fights and pretty much everything else you can imagine. He could probably read through a tornado if one happened to strike the castle. But we all have that one thing.

The classroom was quiet. The scratch of quills on parchment and the occasional shuffle of feet filling Remus’s ears as he did everything in his power to focus on the test in front of him. Potions was a subject he excelled in, yet he had barely finished the first three questions and now sat practically fuming in his chair, his mind clouded with irritation.

A pop once again resonated through the room and no one else blinked, the quills continued their march. Remus gripped his own feather so tight he thought it might break in two. A few moments later the sound greeted his ears again and he whipped around. His eyes fell on you, your hair bouncing lightly as you tapped your foot to some inaudible rhythm. Soft pink bubble gum lined your lips, the corpse of a bubble being tugged back into your mouth for rebirth.

“Would you cut it out?” Remus hissed drawing more than one pair of eyes.

You tilted your head in confusion, reminding the boy slightly of a puppy. You glanced behind yourself quickly and then pointed a finger at yourself in a silent question.

“Yes you.” Remus scorned, “Stop popping your bloody gum.”

Maybe it was because of how rude he had been or maybe it was the cute red tinge of anger on his cheeks, either effect led you to the same action. You gathered the treat in your mouth inflating one of the bigger bubbles you had made that day, popping it between your teeth. The noise was loud like the snap of a whip. You smiled softly at the boy's stiff reaction, “No.” You hummed turning back to your work.

Remus was pretty sure you had verbally slapped him across the face.

The library was crowded with people, almost every chair was taken, faces shoved into books and fingers stained with ink.

The quiet atmosphere was broken by James’s loud groan, “Godric, that test Slughorn gave us was dreadful.” he complained, his head hitting the table in front of him. A chorus of hushing which he paid no mind to followed.

“Tell me about it.” Remus mumbled his mood still sour from the period before.

Sirius snapped to attention, “Since when do you have trouble in potions?”

Remus sighed, rolling his eyes at his friend's amusement, “It wasn’t the test you idiot.”

James turned his head, his cheek now squished against the wooden surface, eyebrows scrunched.

“There was this girl.”

“A girl!?” Both boys shouted in unison, James’s head popping up from the table. They both were shushed aggressively.

Remus scoffed, “Not like that-”

“Was she just so hot you couldn’t focus?” Sirius mused, the smirk on his lips mildly irritating.

“Did she have the top few buttons of her blouse undone? I damn near fainted last time Lily did that.” James chimed in.

Remus felt his cheeks go hot, “What? No-”

“So who's the lucky lady Moony?”

“Yeah I can’t believe you didn't tell us.” James pouted.

“I don’t fancy her, you idiots!” Remus snapped, earning multiple glares.

James and Sirius’s smiles dropped, disappointment finding their faces as all the excitement they had just been tempted with washed away.

“I knew it was too good to be true.” Sirius mumbled halfeartly.

“So what was it then?” James asked, “If you don’t fancy this girl what’s the issue?”

Remus huffed, “She was being bloody annoying that's the issue. She wouldn’t stop popping her gum, it is one of the most infuriating things I've ever experienced.”

Sirius quirked a brow, “That's it?”

“James was there.” Remus continued, “He gets it, it was absolutely dreadful.”

James shrugged, “I don’t remember hearing any popping.”

Remus gauffed, “Seriously? It was so loud.”

“I probably just tuned it out,” He hummed, “Why didn't you just ask her to stop?”

“That's the problem.” Remus groaned, “I did and she was totally rude and popped it right in my face.”

“Sounds kinda bitchy.” Sirius mumbled, “Any chance you know who she is?”

Remus racked his brain, “I think her name is y/l/n something, I'm not sure.”

Sirius paused, “Y/n y/l/n?”

“That sounds right.”

Sirius whistled, “She is wicked hot.”

Remus scrunched his face in mild disgust, “Is that all you have to say on the matter?”

Sirius nodded returning to Transfiguration book,

Remus sighed, “You guys are no help at all.”

If you had heard the conversation that had just taken place you would have been sorely disappointed. In fact you probably would have stormed up to your dorm and pouted fiercely.

Remus Lupin was someone you knew well. Probably too well considering he had never even looked your way until the period before. It's not like you were a stalker or anything, he was just… really cute.

He had caught your attention in 4th year and never seemed to let go as he slowly reeled you in with hazel eyes and soft smiles.

You would count his freckles in charms and imagine running your hands through his hair in potions, he never seemed to notice the pair of eyes boring into his curls. You were pretty positive that your crush was hopeless. I mean this was Remus Lupin you were talking about, sure he wasn’t as sought after as Black but he definitely had his fair share of admirers.

Your friends, the few you trusted with important information that is, were always pushing you to take some sort of action on your crush. You ignored them for the most part claiming it was useless and he would probably end up with someone else anyway. Yet year after year he was still single. It was a bit shocking in fact. Almost as shocking as the words you had spoken to him earlier that day.

You buried your head in your hands for the third time that minute, embarrassment and regret were eating you alive. What the hell is wrong with me? You thought.

Adrianna, who was one of your closest friends and the one seated next to you for the horrific event was snickering behind her hand attempting to turn it into a cough as you glared at her.

“I mean at least you talked to him.” She chidded and you threw your book at her. It was her turn to pout.

You groaned, your head hitting the table infront of you, “I’m a fucking idiot.”

Adrianna shrugged, “Well yes.”

“Why did I say no? Why couldn’t I just say yes and apologize like a normal person?” You complained.

She shrugged again, “Maybe it’s just in your blood to be a dick?” This time she caught a quill on her forehead. “Sorry, sorry,” a pause, “You know you could use this to your advantage,”

You raised an eyebrow, “How the hell would I manage that?”

“You could apologize, you know like a normal person.” she giggled.

You cringed at the thought, “Why would I do that?”

Adrianna rolled her eyes, “Because you were an asshole. And most people apologize after being an asshole.”

You scrunched your nose, “Do you have any idea how awkward that would be?”

“You’re helpless.” She mumbled returning to her work.

You pouted, “Well you're not very helpful.” your mind began to turn as she continued her essay, one you had already finished the night before. Then suddenly an idea struck.

You marched up to Remus with confidence you didn’t actually have. Your anxieties buried beneath a blanket of boldness. Your hands shook, stuffed deep in your pockets.

“Yes?” He repeated reminding you that you had indeed called his name.

You glanced around at his friends, their eyes locked on you with amused smiles. You put on an uncaring mask and rolled your eyes at Potter whose smile only grew, “Could we talk away from your goons?”

Remus grinned a bit as Sirius gave an over-exaggerated gasp, “Yeah sure.”

You nodded quickly turning and starting towards the staircase. You didn’t catch Remus raising his eyebrows back at his friends and he didn’t see you release a shaky breath.

Once you both stood in the narrow staircase leading to the deviations room you turned back to Remus who stood two stairs below you, the height advantage made you feel powerful.

He didn’t seem particularly bothered by it, “You here to apologize?”

Your eyes widened, he seemed snarkier than he had been in potions, almost like he was challenging you, “I was, but now I don’t believe I will.” you clipped back.

Remus rolled his eyes, “Can I leave then?”

Panic struck you, this was not going well, “Actually I need a favor.”

Remus was surprised, that was definitely not what he had expected.

You huffed, praying to whatever god was up there that this would work. “Can you tutor me in potions? I’m actually not all that good at it and I know for a fact you are.” One of those statements was a blatant lie. Potions had been one of your better grades for a while now but he didn’t need to know that.

“Why should I help you?” Remus asked, taking a step towards you, the height advantage lessening.

You weren’t really sure how to answer that, “I suppose you shouldn’t.” You sighed and Remus smirked, “But you will.”

He raised his brows, “And why's that?”

You popped your gum enjoying his flinch, “Because you are just so sweet.” you said it with a slight coo like you were talking to a young child.

Remus didn’t respond as you brushed past him.

“Meet me at the library tomorrow after lunch and don’t be late.” You called over your shoulder.

Remus stood in the stairwell staring where you had just stood. He let out a heavy sigh , his heart beating louder than it should have been.

Part of you thought he wouldn’t even show and that instead you would sit in the library like a fool as Remus laughed about you with his friends. So when you entered the library and found the boy already seated at a table, textbooks and notes placed neatly around him you were surprised. You fought a wide smile skipping beside him and reaching for the book in his hands. Before you could snatch it away Remus snapped it shut and moved it aside.

“Take a seat y/n” He spoke, smirking at you, clearly happy about his quick reflexes.

You rolled your eyes sitting beside him and glancing at the papers in front of you. They were notes, neatly taken, no doodles in the margins.

Remus leaned over your shoulder, “I think we should start with the basics and see how much you already know.”

It was only then that you realised you were going to have to pretend to be terrible at potions. You swallowed thickly, “Sounds good.”

You surprised yourself with how easily you lied. You slipped up only twice, brushing both off as lucky guesses and contuinuting with your stupid little curade.

Remus ate it up, showing you simple questions and walking you through them as one did a child. It would have bothered you if he wasn’t leaning over your shoulder with his breath soft on your neck. He smelt like chocolate and fresh parchment, his curly hair so close you could reach out and run your fingers through it if you wanted to.

You walked back to your common room in a slight haze, your stomach full of wings.

Remus peered after you curiously. Your actions confused him, he could’ve sworn you had already known the practice problems he gave you. Yet you had struggled, almost comically. He supposed you were just really good at pretending to be smart.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to pretend to be stupid?” You groaned.

Adrianna shook her head too focused on the note sheet in front of her to really care about what you were saying.

Your rambles continued regardless, “Do you think I’m going to have to fail my next test so I can keep Remus as a tutor?”

She sighed fed up as she tried to study over your speaking, “You know you could just ask him out like if you weren’t such a pussy.”

You glared at her lacking real malice, “I’m not a pussy, I’m just creative.”

“Pussy.” Adrianna coughed quietly and you rolled your eyes, she was only a little bit right.

As your study sessions continued Remus found himself growing strangely fond of you. The banter you offered was entertaining, despite the fact you took every chance to annoy him. Your sarcastic comments made his lips twitch into a grin. Your response to his own remarks; a scrunch of your nose, making him chuckle. You still seemed a bit off and for the first week, Remus wasn’t sure what it was. It was clear that you were hiding something, faking something but he just couldn't place it.

A pattern began to settle in front of him quickly. Your slip ups became a bit repetitive. And by slip ups he really meant your success. You were good at potions. In fact probably better than he was. Remus wasn’t sure why you were pretending to be terrible at a class you clearly were doing well in, but he was even more confused on why he didn’t call you out on it.

For some reason he was dead set on keeping you at those study sessions. In fact he used a nearing test as an excuse to meet you daily. He debated his actions in his own mind most nights, why did he keep wasting his time to teach you things you already knew he wondered. He always came up empty, even more lost than he had been before.

You had thought Remus to be smarter than he was. The fact that he hadn't picked up on your seemingly obvious act was astounding. You supposed it only helped you if he fell for it hook line and sinker, right? You started meeting him everyday in the library, he was very adamant about you passing the upcoming test and you weren’t going to complain, it gave you more time to count the freckles that dusted his nose anyway.

You hummed quietly to yourself, fiddling with your quill. It was the night before the test and Remus had been insistent on you studying late into the night. So now you sat in the Gryffindor common room under the hazy light of candles with notes you had memorized ages ago.

The crack of the fire was a pleasant background noise to your tune as your eyes locked onto Remus whose hair had fallen in front of his eyes yet again. You smiled softly watching him scribble final notes onto his Transfiguration assignment. Your gum was slowly losing its flavor on your tongue.

Feeling your gaze he looked up, “You want me to quiz you on them?” He asked, gesturing to the notes under your arm.

“Sure.” You reposed picking up the paper and passing it off to him.

Remus watched you carefully, answers came easily most of the time but every once and while you would struggle, himming and hawing as you pretended you didn’t know how to respond. He played along until you finished the note sheet.

You were confused when he put it down, “Aren't we going to go over the ones I got wrong?”

Remus sighed, “Why would I do that when you already know them?”

You furrowed your brow, “I got them wrong.”

“You know them though don’t you?” He smirked, “You know all the stuff that I’ve been teaching you.”

You laughed but there was no humor to it, “I don’t know what you mean.”

He only smiled more, “Yes you do.”

You just sat there, your mind was spinning, you hadn’t really planned for the end of it all. You had no clue how you were going to explain this.

“I’m curious.” Remus said, “Why go through all this trouble?”

You just started at him opening your mouth to answer only to close it again.

“Come on y/n don’t leave me hanging.” He grinned and you felt like you were going to throw up.

“How long have you known?” You asked quietly.

Remus shrugged, “About a week.”

You hesitated, “Wait, why didn't you say anything sooner?”

He shrugged again, “No reason.”

It was your turn to smile “No really Remus, why waste your time with me?” You questioned.

He sighed, “It wasn’t really a waste of time.”

“It wasn’t?”

Remus felt weirdly trapped, “You still haven't answered my question.”

“Fine you really want to know?” You said chewing your gum anxiously.

He nodded.

“I wanted to hang out with you, and I wasn't really sure how to ask.” You huffed picking at your nails.

There was a beat of quiet, the fire popped behind you.

“Now you tell me why you didn’t say anything earlier.” You said trying to divert from your embarrassing confession.

Remus pondered his answer for a moment, “Because I like you.”

Your eyes widened, “I thought you found me annoying.” you laughed lightly.

“Oh no I do.” He grinned leaning closer to you as you scrunched your nose in annoyment. “You know you could have just asked me out instead of pretending not to know anything about potions.”

You ignored the heat in your cheeks as Remus leaned just inches from you, “Where’s the fun in that?”

He chuckled, “I supposed there isn't any.” his breath was warm on your skin and your eyes slipped shut as he closed the distance between you.

Remus’s lips were smooth and soft against your own, his hand cupping your cheek lightly. You ran your fingers through his hair as he tilted your chin back, deepening the kiss.

He hummed lightly, you tasted like bubblegum.

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jasontoddiefor · 3 years

Text

I wondered about aquatic species who are not capable of fulfilling land-dwelling Jedi tasks, but it’s actually just an excuse to write Mermaid Anakin.

Ahsoka knows that not everyone is meant to be a Jedi Knight. A few of her crèchemates even disliked sword fighting or diplomacy. They weren’t bad at it, they all took their studies seriously, they just weren’t interested in it, not the way Ahsoka was.

She knew she was meant for the battlefields of the galaxy, soaring through the skies above and guiding leaders of planets through their decisions. She’d seen it in her dreams and visions, drawn it on flimsi ever since she could hold a pencil.

Ahsoka Tano, Jedi Knight.

Never before had the future been so certain for her and never had it seemed so impossible. Ahsoka was getting older, and while she didn’t want to be jealous and resentful of the Initiates younger than her being picked as Padawans when she wasn’t, she couldn’t help it.

“It’s not fair,” Ahsoka complained and kicked the fruit from the tree as hard she could, watching as it flew into the pond and sunk below the surface.

Frustrated, she sat down on the grass. The Room of a Thousand Fountains wasn’t deserted this late into the evening, but the little alcove she’d found while exploring was empty enough. From experience, Ahsoka knew that the multiple ponds surrounding her were connected through underground tunnels. She’d gone through this part of the Temple only recently when deciding to take a class on aquatic life in the galaxy. The course had been in the middle of the night in one of the bigger pools, but they’d gone playing here during the break.

Ahsoka tugged at the grass, ripping it free. There had to be something she could do to make a Knight pay attention to her! Just when Ahsoka was trying to think of what essay or kata display might attract someone, something solid connected with the back of her head.

“Hey!” She jumped up, rubbing the back of her head. Down in the grass laid the apple she’d kicked away just minutes before. It was round and wet and had a large bite mark, all sharp edges. Whatever or whoever had bitten it must have canines like her.

Not wanting to waste another minute, Ahsoka grabbed the apple and threw it back into the water. She watched as it disappeared into the dark, then began to count. Not even thirty seconds later, the apple was thrown at her again from yet another direction.

Was this a group of younglings playing a trick on her? Stretching her senses, Ahsoka couldn’t make out a larger group. It barely felt like one person was there. Their presence felt just as muddy as the waters below, was likely attuned to it. Frowning, she tossed the apple and was nearly hit by it again moments later. With each time, Ahsoka became more skilled at evading the apple and eventually predicting where it was coming from.

“Got you!” she yelled when just after throwing, she turned around and saw a hand reaching out of the water, holding the apple. Instead of throwing it, the person disappeared again.

“Oh, not this time!” Throwing all rational thought of the wind, Ahsoka rushed through the edge of the pond and jumped right in. It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the changed light. Above was the slight green of the pond, illuminated by the lanterns, below was the dark and two glowing eyes.

Ahsoka lost her focus and let more air escape than she’d wanted to. Before she could swim to the surface to take another breath and potentially use the person she’d just tracked down, the water moved away from her head, leaving her an air bubble in which she could breathe.

“Uh, thank you,” Ahsoka said, still staring down at the person.

Slowly they swam up, and it was only then that Ahsoka saw how massive their body was. Their tail, darker than Coruscant’s night sky, reached further down than Ahsoka could make out even with her sharper eyes. The only reasons he could make out its end at all were the slight golden flickers at the very bottom, where the light had to reflect on golden scales.

The person didn’t say a word until they were face to face with Ahsoka, bright blue eyes scrutinizing her.

“Isn’t it dinner time?” the person – Padawan going by their braid – asked. Their braid was pretty, had pearls and shells instead of the common wooden beads. “My Master left earlier to grab some and I’m pretty sure you should eat too.”

“I’m not hungry,” Ahsoka said.

The Padawan didn’t look very impressed by her reply. “Right, Snips. And that’s not your stomach.”

Ahsoka was going to protest when her body betrayed her and grumbled in hunger. Victoriously, the Padawan grinned, showing off sharp teeth. Trust a fellow carnivore to point out when it was mealtime.

“I don’t want to eat right now. And my name’s Ahsoka, not Snips, you fishface.”

The look the Padawan shot her wasn’t very impressed. “It’s Anakin,” the Padawan supplied. “Or Padawan Skywalker if you want to be formal. And I was getting my food when your apple landed in my dinner.”

Now Ahsoka was starting to feel a little guilty. A single Jedi’s struggle was never supposed to bring another pain. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I was just… not having a good day. I didn’t mean to ruin your dinner.”

“No harm done,” Anakin replied. “If you want, you can have dinner with my Master and me. He should be back now.”

And then Anakin promptly disappeared in the depths again before returning to Ahsoka’s side with a box of fishes. “C’mon.”

Together, they swam to the surface. When they broke through, Ahsoka found herself staring at another Jedi, one she definitely recognized on sight.

Obi-Wan Kenobi.

There was no one in the Temple who didn’t know him. He’d lost his Master in a duel with the Sith and then defeated the Sith in turn, was Knighted and immediately took a Padawan, whom they’d rescued—

Oh.

Ahsoka glanced back at Anakin, who was pulling himself up onto the soft grass. She hadn’t recognized his name because, well, Ahsoka focused on impressive Knights not… Huh. She actually had no idea what Padawan Skywalker specialized in. She knew of him because he was renowned for being strong in the Force and because he’d been rescued from the Hutts when he was much older than other Initiates, and there weren’t too many interspecies Master-Padawan teams.

“And who is this?” Kenobi suddenly addressed her.

“That’s Ahsoka,” Anakin introduced her. “She’s not having a good day, so she’s gonna eat dinner with us.”

“And by us, you mean I ought to share?” Obi-Wan asked amused but handed Ahsoka a plate and a bit of his meal anyway. “It’s nice to meet you, Initiate Tano.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Ahsoka returned, smiling.

Anakin and his Master talked about nothing in particular, but they still made an effort to include her. Slowly, Ahsoka felt all tension bleed from her shoulders until she was laughing along with Obi-Wan’s jokes and let Anakin drag her back into the water so they could pull his Master right in.

Maybe she needn’t worry about becoming a Padawan at all.

#ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #mermay #fanfic

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