prfctethereal - Tumblr blog

prfctethereal · 2 years

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Can I request a James potter fic with the rivals to lovers trope please ? Idk what else but I love your fics :)

alphabet boy i

༄ series summary: you and james have always competed with each other to be top in every class, so much that you now loathe each other. when an opportunity arises for the top academic student in the school to study abroad, you and james both want it.

༄ chapter summary: dumbledore announces at international exchange for one lucky student and a late night chat with james teaches you a bit more about your rival.

༄ pairing: james potter x fem!reader (academic rivals to lovers)

༄ chapter word count: 3.6k

༄ chapter warnings: language, food mention, mention of smut, as much fluff as you’d get at the start of a slowburn, a little bit of sad james :(

a/n: sorry for disappearing but i've been sitting on this request for a while and i just had this idea and i thought it would be time to act on it so here it is! likes and reblogs are appreciated!

It may have stunk like gunpowder and grime, but no other student seemed to care, as they laughed along with the infamous Marauders, enjoying the mayhem that the four boys were causing. Everyone was laughing, except for you, who held a permanent scowl to your face, as you glanced over your right shoulder to catch a glimpse at what they had just done.

A cloud of thick, grey smoke was clearing, due to Remus Lupin fanning it away with the back of his palm. It seemed that he was the closest to the destroyed cauldron, inhaling the dark fumes that were spiralling in the air, coughing out deep exhales of dirty breath. You couldn’t see what was causing the chaos just yet, your eyes squinting harder to make out what was happening.

“Watch the cauldron!” You heard a shriek from on your left, enticing you to whip your head back around in shock.

From your distraction, you had almost let the bubbling liquid boil over. It had only been salvageable as your potions partner, Marlene McKinnon, had stopped your stirring just before disaster had struck. You let loose your own breath of air, eyebrows furrowing as you mentally shunned yourself for getting distracted in the first place.

It was honestly difficult not to, gritting your teeth, and forcing yourself to tune out the devilish laughter from behind you. Torture was the best way to describe the new potions classroom arrangement for this upcoming year.

Luckily, you had been paired with a close friend, Marlene, for the entirety of your year in potions, a stark contrast to the pitiful you had had last year, paired with the incompetent, clumsy Peter Pettigrew, whose tendency to drift in and out of focus caused you to drop a few grades over the year. Marlene would be good, you came to the conclusion. Someone focused, someone ready.

Unfortunately, you had been placed at the back of the room, the only other table behind you being housed by two of the most reckless, annoying students that you believed had ever gone to Hogwarts. Remus Lupin, a well liked student, by most teachers, and occasionally by you, and James Potter.

James was not someone who you got along with. If anything, you’d choose to avoid him at any waking moment. His overinflated ego mixed with his outright cockiness made him unbearable and reckless. Yet, you had to give him some credit, as each year, his academic ability rivalled your own, with the two of you continuously competing for top place in each of your classes, year after year, after you realised that you shared a knack for academia.

Right now, you held back a smirk threatening to expel onto your cheeks. You heard the explosion erupting from the desk behind you, something that wasn’t supposed to happen with this particular potion, meaning one thing: James had messed up the potion somehow.

“Sorry Marls,” you apologised gently to your blonde friend, who still wore a frustrated mask on her face. Your apology was disingenuous though, as you didn’t regret your choices in learning that you would get a much better grade on this project than James would. “Just a bit distracted this morning.”

“Oh, I can see that alright. Downright ogling Mr Potter over there, with that amused grin, hmm?”

You laughed. “I, unfortunately, have no idea what you’re talking about.” You flicked your eyes upwards, to lock in with Marlene’s. “Can you pass the wormwood please?”

Begrudgingly, Marlene found a small vial on the table and placed it gently in your hand, yet she wore a confused look. “What is that even supposed to do?”

“It’ll hopefully react with some of the other ingredients in here.” You replied curtly, concentrating too hard to respond thoroughly.

Drip, Drip, Drip.

Three drops of wormwood fell into the cauldron, letting a fizzing sensation rise to the surface. You smiled, content with the way the concoction was turning out, charming the stirring rod to continue mixing the potion until it had changed its brown appearance to a deep maroon, exactly as the recipe required. As you let the peace rock over you, you tuned into what was happening behind you, just as another explosion emitted from their cauldron, louder than before, but less sooty.

You gave yourself the reward of fully turning around, excited to watch the disappointed look on Potter’s face as he realised that his potion was ruined, but that never came. He only looked pleased with himself, a fact that disgruntled you, but it wouldn’t last long, as Professor Slughorn made his way over to their work bench, lips pulled so tightly, they were almost translucent.

“What is going on over here?” Professor Slughorn droned, obviously not pleased with the ruckus that the boys were causing.

When none of them replied, you took it on yourself to speak for them. “It seems, Professor, that they have blown up their potion.” Annoyed, James glances up at you, irritation in his pupils, yet, still a glimmer of amusement.

“Actually, sir,” James moved his eyes back to his potion, motioning Professor Slughorn to look too, “we haven’t blown up our potion.”

Remus nodded in agreement. “James had this brilliant idea of using salamander blood as a catalyst, speeding up reaction time. It’s already complete.”

Your mouth dropped open as you watched James’ smug grin flick back towards you. Throwing you a mocking wink, his soot covered fingers pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, still not peeling his eyes away from your shocked body.

“That’s incredible!” Professor Slughorn exclaimed as he closed his face into the cauldron, watching the liquid spiral around in the heat. Your feet took you along to their table, without your head stopping you, and you saw their potion with your own eyes.

It looked exactly how Professor Slughorn had wanted the class to make it look like, when he demonstrated the practical at the beginning of the lesson: red, thick, glistening. The smell was lovely even, smelling strongly of ylang ylang flowers, the desired scent of the potion. You pursed your lips, unwilling to agree that maybe James and Remus had made the potion before you, and more efficiently than you. You wanted to scream and wipe that smug look off of James’ face.

“Well, yeah,” James smirked, “sometimes explosions can be good things.” He looked you dead in the eyes, making it well aware that he was speaking to you.

Then a soft voice spoke from behind you. “Can you come back here?” Marlene called your name.

You strolled back towards your bench, giving in to your loss of the lesson, but looking back to James once again. He wasn’t looking at you.

━━━➳

“He changed the recipe?” Lily Evans asked, incredulously, as you sat opposite of her in the great hall.

You rolled your eyes, not keen on explaining the story to your friend, sipping on your tart goblet of pumpkin juice. Your shoulders raised in a half hearted shrugged, as you kept your head down, trying not to show how obviously embarrassed you were.

You couldn’t get the way you talked to Professor Slughorn out of your head. You had been challenging James, wanting to get a reaction out of him, yet he had stayed calm, letting his charisma and charm take over, wiping you clean of any dignity you still held. You couldn’t help but feel small, embarrassed, and silly.

Often, you and James had snarky competitions, whether in small arguments or class debates. You had won your fair share of them, but you still felt a sort of shame whenever James put you back in your place.

It was hard being rivals with someone who was so effortlessly intelligent.

You swore you had never once actually seen James study, yet you slaved away in the library for days on end, just to get marks that you thought deserved better. Even with Head Girl, a position you were eager to accept. You had worked your ass off to get there, and it seemed like James had just been handed Head Boy by not doing anything. Rationally, you knew that was true, as his skills on the Quidditch pitch were unmatched and he was academically topping all his subjects. Well, sharing the top place with you.

Prefect meetings or any public appearance was civil, but as soon as doors were closed, you loathed each other, finding any opportunity to knock the other down a peg. You knew it was toxic, but you couldn’t help yourself. Some would call it jealousy, you called it rivalry.

So as you sat in the great hall, trying to ignore the retelling of today’s events, your mind drifted off, eyes glazing over as you stared off into the abyss, only to be knocked out of it once you realised what you were staring at.

James Potter sat diagonally across from you in the distance, head tilted down, as he mindlessly picked at the food of his plate with the metallic fork in his grip. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, with a touch of sadness in his eyes, as he scraped his cutlery against his plate rhythmically. You must’ve been staring for a bit too long, as James’ head shot back up, meeting your quizzical gaze, flashing his famous grin at you, but you weren’t having any of it.

Are you okay? You mouthed to James, cocking your head to your side, watching as James’ expression changes from smirking to humbleness. He had never seen you actually care before, and confusion was settling into his bones. Unsure of whether to give an honest response, you watched his hesitation with anguish, until he decided to mask it all.

Of course, darling. He mouthed back, his signature smirk back in place, yet you held your eye contact, waiting to see if he’d be honest with you. That honesty never came. Not that you expected it to. You pursed your lips, about to answer, before you were pulled back into conversation at the most awful time.

“You actually spoke that way to Professor Slughorn?” Lily smacked your wrist lightly, referencing your retort from earlier in potions class. You snorted, pulling your arms close to your body nervously.

“I actually thought that they had fucked up.” You let out a strangled laugh. “I was wrong though. That genius proved me wrong once again. I didn’t even know he knew about catalysts in potions, and I wish I had thought of that.”

Mary MacDonald, from beside you, giggled. “I know you. In all of your years at Hogwarts, when have you ever diverged from the recipe?” She paused. “You just–don’t.”

You exhaled. “I guess I’m just worried that I’ll ruin the potion and get a bad mark. It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.” You stabbed at a piece of broccoli on your plate, shovelling it back in your mouth and you huffed in annoyance.

“James always takes risks,” Lily added, always finding a way to insert James into the conversation. It just made the anger inside of you boil even more, “and James always gets those top marks too–”

You lost it. “Well, I’m not James, am I?” You projected your words a bit too loudly for your liking, those fatal words falling on the ears of James Potter himself, who looked over at you when hearing his name, whether he untimely listened to your conversation or just a bad dose of cocktail party syndrome. You had bashed your hands not so gently on the table, letting a few pieces of crockery become airborne, before falling back to the table. Luckily, no one batted an eye your way.

Taking a deep breath, you looked away from James for your own sanity. “I love you Lily, but please don’t compare me to James. I’m not James.”

Lily nodded curtly your way, focusing back towards her food. You could feel James’ eyes still burning into you but you didn’t dare look his way, anger still pulsing in your veins. Luckily, Professor Dumbledore was making his way to the centre of the stage, silencing the hall, and giving you an excuse to end this conversation.

“I’m hoping you have all had a great start to the year. The first week is done. You should all be proud of yourselves.” Dumbledore paused, letting the stray cheers from overenthusiastic students die down. “I’m sure you’ll all strive to be your very best this year, and I don’t doubt that you already have. Trying and succeeding in this school is greatly admired and promoted, with the greatest successions being rewarded.”

A soft hum of chatter washed over the hall in a tidal wave from Professor Dumbledore’s cryptic words. “What is that great loon on about?” Mary whispered in your ear, in which you replied with a short shrug.

“For high achieving Year Seven students, an opportunity has risen.” A silence ran over the hall. “After twenty years of not holding this exchange, some of the wizarding schools in the world are coming back together to host an event to celebrate our brightest student. The top student of Year Seven academically will be invited to Ilvermorny in a cultural exchange to bring our schools closer. Other schools that will be participating will be Ilvermorny, Durmstrang Institute, Castelobruxo, and Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.”

The hall became a buzz of excitement. Loud, overgrown voices echoed against the bricked walls, the words people were using flying back and forth. The reaction was mixed, with a dose of angered six year students, who believed they should have the opportunity to go on the exchange as well. Other students were exceptionally enthused, elated to have a goal to work towards for the year. Some students even tossed around words like performative, and dangerous.

Your hands twitched by your side, as your automatic response to glance over at James kicked in. He was looking back at you, a slight twinkle in his eye, as if he was offering a silent challenge, one that you accepted straight away.

Lily gasped. “I didn’t think they would still do exchanges like this.” She leaned into the table more to speak in a whisper. “I heard that the last time they did something like this, a student got extremely injured.”

“It wasn't an injury.” Mary poked in, running her hands through her frizzy hair. “It was, in the nicest terms, a Fuck-a-thon.” The table of girls laughed. “Seriously! The students wouldn’t stop going at it.”

Marlene bit her lip, raising her hand as if asking permission to speak. “But surely the inter school quidditch would be amazing to watch. And maybe I’d have better luck with foreign girls”

You snorted. “There won’t be any inter school quidditch.” Marlene furrowed her eyebrows. “It’s only one student from each school. It’s hardly enough for a quidditch team.”

“So, it’s dumb, isn’t it?” Lily muttered, coaxing the other girls to look directly at her. “Only one student gets to go. It’s not an exchange. It’s an excuse to flash around a student and bring the reputation of Hogwarts back into a positive light.”

Mary rolled her eyes in agreement. “I mean, come on, top academic student? Dumbledore just wants to show the schools that we’re so smart.” The sarcasm dripped off her tongue. “And I think we all know who’s going to get it.”

One by one, you all glanced over to where James Potter was sitting, engrossed in a conversation with Sirius Black, too busy to notice the four girls looking directly at him. As the other girls looked away, you kept your eyes on James, watching his face contort with different emotions, like he was arguing with his friends. You shook your head, brushing it off.

You didn’t have time to deal with James Potter.

━━━➳

The common room was quiet as the grandfather clock chimed, barely registering in your mind that it had hit eleven in the evening. The flickering fire was burning in the corner, the small semblance of heat radiating into your body. Cushions stacked against the couch acted as something to lean on, comforting you as you poured over the pages of a muggle fiction book you always loved.

You sighed in contentment, the crackling of the fire soothing your mind as your eyelashes fluttered softly. You couldn’t feel the need for sleep slowly creep over you, yet you sat in wait, ignoring the tell tale signs your body was desperately telling you, as your thumb and forefinger met with the intricate edges of the book, flipping the page to the next chapter.

Solitude was heaven for you in that moment, but the peace and quiet wouldn’t last, as you felt the gentle pattering of footsteps come from the staircase, the floors doing a horrible job at muffling the sound. You could almost make out the gentle sound of sniffles, yet you believed it was just your mind playing tricks on you.

You only looked up once you realised the footsteps were coming towards you. Peeling your eyes away from your pages from just a moment, you were met with a sleepless James Potter, ruffled hair and misplaced glasses, his bare hazel eyes staring right at you. He squinted just slightly, trying to make out who you were. You decided to give him a helping hand.

“Hey Potter.”

James choked out a breathy laugh. “Oh, it's just you. I’m surprised you haven’t gone to bed yet.”

You raised your book just enough for James to see. “Reading, but I kind of want you to think it’s studying instead, so believe that instead.”

Letting out a humph, James shuffled towards the armchair, heaving himself down into the cushion, exhaling a massive yawn that could only compliment the dark rings around his eyes. You hadn’t noticed how tired he had looked before, but now that you concentrated on the way his eyes dulled in the light, it was the only thing you could focus on.

James noticed your staring. “Checking me out?”

You thought fast on your feet. “Strange seeing you without your glasses. Almost got me thinking you’re a different person. Someone who’s not insufferable and egotistic.”

James laughed, revealing his wand from his pocket, and flicking his wand, muttering a spell under his breath. Within moments, his glasses came flying down the stairs and into his hands, where he promptly placed the spectacles on his nose bridge. “Better?”

“Hmm.” You hummed under your breath, turning back to your book, trying to reimmerse yourself back into the pages like you had been before, but you struggled, as you felt a bare of beady eyes watching you from across the room, studying you like the book you were reading. “What are you looking at?”

James sighed, collecting his thoughts. “Pride and Prejudice? That’s not in the syllabus.” He paused, watching the way your eyes moved across the pages, entranced. “What is it about?”

“Two people who hate each other.” You said without a second thought, turning the page with a sigh.

“Ah, much like you and me.”

You stopped your reading, looking up from your book. “We’re nothing like the characters in the book.”

“Why?” James smirked. “Is one not a handsome, young sportsman and the other a moody, short-tempered brat?” He laughed, but you were not amused, shoving the book tightly between the couch cushions.

You squinted your eyes. “I am not a short-tempered brat.”

“But you agree with the moody part?”

You swung your legs around to leave, fed up with James for one night, but was stopped when a wave of guilt washed over his face, closing back down on you. He shuffled nervously in his chair, biting his lip like it was going to fall off. “Wait, I didn’t mean it.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “So, you don’t think I’m a moody, short-tempered brat?”

James chuckled. “Not tonight. Tonight, you’re just someone to keep me company.”

There was sincerity in his tone, as if he actually wanted to be civilised for the night, something that shook you deeply as you weren't expecting it. Slowly, you laid back down on the couch, not moving your eyes away from James as he fiddled with his fingertips, waiting to see what you’d do next. You could tell he was nervous, and something within you told you to be nice to him for at least one night.

“Can’t sleep?” You offered, pulling your lip between your teeth and chewing thoughtfully, watching James squirm in his chair as you awaited his response, uncertain of what it would be, yet a clear indication of where this was going.

James shook his head. “Nah, haven’t been able to since we came back here. Stressed about studying and stuff.” He looked up at you through his thick eyelashes, watching the way your face was etched with care. “And now the prospect of the exchange? I’m beyond stressed.”

“So, you’re going for it?” You sighed, pulling the blanket between your fingers in search of comfort.

“Yeah.” James breathed out. You weren’t surprised, but still, you were slightly disappointed, hoping he would move out of your way for you to shine. He had always seemed to dim any achievement that you had gotten, and you wished that this was something you could have, even if it wasn’t all that important. You thought as though you deserved it.

You hummed. “Mmm, me too.”

And with that, you pulled your book out of the crack in the cushions, and wished James a goodnight.

━━━➳

next part

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

#james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter smut #harry potter #marauders #marauders era #james potter x reader

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prfctethereal · 2 years

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chapter one of my new series coming out tomorrow morning :)

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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holy shit this is too good omg

pairing: neighbour!james x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings: slight dumbification, exhibitionism, fingering, degredation, clit slapping, almost getting caught, fucking on the hood of a car, biting, slight breeding kink, not proofread

reblogs are appreciated and encouraged, but not necessary!

don't read if you aren't comfortable!

it was days like these that brought you joy. the cool morning air, the dew that'd settled on the emerald grass, and the birds chirping their morning hellos. you loved to take a cup of tea and just sit out on your porch, taking all the glory the morning had to offer.

your morning routine became a whole lot more interesting when your new neighbour, james, moved in across the street with that damned black convertible of his. the roaring of the engine would wake you up at ungodly hours, absolutely ruining your sleep. you had half a mind to go tell him off, but you were trying to enjoy the last moments of the crisp morning.

however, when he walked out shirtless, with a dirty rag hooked through the loops on his jeans, you had to go over there. as you made your approach, you became very aware of your appearance. some of the dew from the grass had settled on your bare feet, and a slight breeze ruffled your dress, causing your hands to fiddle with the hem. don’t want to flash the new neighbour, now do we?

the walk over seemed to take ages, but you made it over there nonetheless. he was under the car when you arrived, humming while rolling back and forth on the black creeper. you walked up right next to where his legs were peaking out.

“excuse me,” you mumbled, hoping he could hear you. tinkering sounds and his humming continued, so you cleared your throat and repeated yourself, just a little louder this time. the sounds stopped, and he started to slowly roll himself out from under the black car. you looked around, growing impatient at how long he was taking.

“well, isn’t that a pretty sight?” you heard a voice come from your toes. you found the bespeckled brunette looking up your dress, smirking. “oi!” you cried, stepping backwards and holding the hem of your dress down.

“sorry, doll, couldn't help myself. now, how can i help you, sweetheart?” he stood up to his full height, wiping his hands on a rag. you found yourself quite entranced by his hands, prominent veins winding throughout the calloused fists.

“like the view, darling?” he caught you staring, smirking like an idiot. you shook your head slightly, and blinked to fully get out of your stupor. “oh, um, right,” you stuttered, face heating up. “i wanted to ask you if, um,” your gaze drifted to your feet, and your hands once again went to fiddle with your dress.

“come on, sweetheart, look at me when you’re talking to me.” you heard him say. your eyebrows furrowed. ‘how dare he? i’m not a child-”

your thoughts were interrupted by one of his fingers tilting your chin up, and his eyes locking with yours. “what’s wrong, darling? cat got your tongue?” that stupid smirk spread across his face for what seemed like the millionth time, and you wanted to smack it right off that beautiful visage of his. either that or kiss him until you both ran out of air.

“it would appear so, hm?” he answered for you, looking down at you, and tilting his head. “well, how about you go back to that porch where you stare at me from every day, and come back once you remember what it was you wanted to tell me,ok darling? apparently coming over here was just a little too much for your brain, hm?” he bent down to be at eye level with you, and tilted his head.

“i, um, ok. see you later, i guess?” you turned quickly and scurried back over to the safety of your own porch. you entered your house in a flurry, and shut the door behind you, leaning against it once you were safe from his condescending gaze.

‘why does he talk to me like that? moreover, why do i like it?’ you thought to yourself, turning around to look through your peephole. james had returned to tuning up his car, his head ducked under the hood this time. it gave you a wonderful view of his ass, but your face heated up almost instantaneously. ‘bloody hell, what is this man doing tome,” you shook your head, your mind turning to chores.

in the midday heat, the sun beat down on your back, but a cool breeze tickled your neck, giving you some relief from the unrelenting sun. you were tending to your garden, also known as your pride and joy. all different species of flower shot up around your house, giving it a friendly, welcoming feel to it.

as you were bending over, you thought you heard footsteps behind you, but you just shook it off, not thinking much of it. you were too focused on your lovely flowers.

when you straightened out, admiring your handiwork, you felt warm breath on your neck.

"hello, darling. looking delicious as ever, i see. have you thought about what it was you wanted to talk to me about?" you whipped around to meet his gaze, and oh fuck, he’s shirtless. your eyes danced across his bare chest, and he caught your gaze.

"like what you see, sweetheart? i certainly like my view."

little did you know that in spinning around so violently, that you'd soaked your white, cotton sundress. evidently, you didn't wear a bra that day, so your tits are on full display.

before you could cover yourself, he took your chin in his hand, and breathed against your lips, "wanna show me more?"

your face became hot for what felt like the millionth time, and you suddenly found your bare feet very interesting.

“i’ll show you mine if you show me yours, sweetness.” he chuckled, his eyes locked on your shy state, “of course, I mean my car; you seemed so intrigued by it earlier, so let’s go, darling.” he ushered you in front of him with a large hand on the small of your back, and led you across the street over to his car.

“you see, doll, this isn’t just a car. this is my pride and joy, the centre of all of my affections. the only thing missing would be a pretty little thing like you sitting on the hood, all spread out for me.”

you turned to face him, eyes wide at his outright vulgar nature. “excuse me,” you stared at him, eyes narrowed now. “come on doll, i see the way you look at me, and i know you want me just about as badly as i want you.” he started slowly making his way closer to you, causing you to back up until your ass came in contact with the hood of his car. thank god. the car was in the shade, saving your bare thighs from extreme discomfort.

“are you ok with this, darling?” he asked, putting his hands on his car, effectively trapping you between him and his precious ride. you nodded, but he shook his head and implored you, “words, doll.”

“yes, i’m ok with this.” you stared at him, anticipating his next move on bated breath.

“so, if i do this,” his hands slowly made their way up you thighs, his touch featherlight. “you’re ok with that, bunny?” a shiver goes down your spine, and you shift in place, not knowing why that name had such an effect on you.

“seems you’re more than ok with it, hm?” he smiled down at you. you nod, blushing.

“now, let’s pay attention to these lovely tits of yours, hm?” his hands trail up your body to the drying top of your dress. the feeling of the fabric sticking to your skin was slightly uncomfortable, but his warm hands made all the difference. the way they groped at your tits, paying special attention to your pebbling nipples had your head lulling back, and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. little bolts of electricity went all throughout your body, but all ultimately ended up going to your throbbing core.

“you like it when i play with these delicious tits of yours, don’t you? well, why don’t i see for myself, hm?” he smirked, his pupils blown. while one of his hands kept tweaking your nipples, the other went down to you panties.

“ah, there they are. those adorable panties i saw earlier today. so fucking sexy, doll.” he growled, his eyes focused on a growing wet spot. a whimper escaped your lips at his words, causing his head to snap up.

“oh, you liked it when i saw you, huh? you like showing this pussy off to everyone around you, don’t you, you little slut?” he grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. you yelped at the sensation, but your cunt fluttered around nothing all the same.

his fingers slowly traced your wet slit through your panties, and you whimpered, and bucked your hips into his hand. he tsked, shaking his head. “ah ah, don’t do that, sweetheart. you only get what i give you alright?”

you nodded, stilling your movements and letting him do all the work. all that time he spent on his car gave him god-like skills with his hands, making you shiver and arch into him. the way his skillful fingers circled your clit and teased your entrance had you groaning, wanting him to touch you more, to make you cum. but he had other plans.

“darling, stop whining and lie back. you’re ready for my cock, aren’t you?” he pushed on your shoulders, making you lie down on the hood of his car. you realized that you were out in the open, and that anyone could drive or walk by and see the two of you fucking. you voiced your concerns to james, and he just shook his head and smiled.

“come on, bunny, i thought you liked being caught, being watched.” he nipped your earlobe, and lined his cock up at your slit. he teased the head of his dick along your cunt, paying special attention to your throbbing clit, making your head hit the metal beneath you.

“you know, i’ve always wanted to fuck a little slut on my car. now look at me, having a little whore all whimpery and squirmy for me. dreams really do come true, don’t they, princess?” he waited for you to start answering, then bottomed out inside of you, relishing in your high pitched squeals.

he throbbed inside of you, grunting in your ear. his cock grazed your g-spot with every stroke. your moans echoed all around the block, and the sound of your wet cunt getting absolutely ruined could only be heard by those in closer proximity.

“fuck, sweetheart, you’re so tight ‘round me. gonna make me cum so hard.” he bit your neck to stifle his moans, unlike yours which were still flying out of your throat at a volume that was just a tad too loud.

“oi, james, what’s going on?” you hear a voice call from across the street. james’ movements stilled, but his fingers found your swollen clit and drew fast circles on it. “hey, pads. nothing much, just working on the ol’ car.” he called back, his unoccupied hand on your mouth to silence your weak whimpers. “could’ve sworn i’d heard a girl moaning; don’t have anyone with you over there with you, ya filthy dog?” you could hear the smile on the mans voice, and james chuckled. “nope, sirius, not in a million years. and you’re the dog, mate,” sirius must’ve flipped james off, because the hand covering your mouth gave it right back to the man across the street.

“well, i’ll see you around, james,” sirius shouted. “see you around, mate.” james replied. while the two men had been talking, his fingers’ pace had been unrelenting on your clit, and you’d almost gone over the edge. he’d taken notice, and halted his movements, leaning down, and whispering in your ear, “naughty little slut, you don’t get to cum unless i say so, got it?” he gave your clit a little slap for emphasis, making you yelp. “got it,” you whined, wanting him to resume his movements.

“good, now shut the hell up and let me get back to work.” he growled, and he started thrusting into your wet cunt once again. this time around, he kept his hand on your mouth, for fear of someone else walking by and actually realising what was happening. you moaned and screamed into his hand when he bit down on your shoulder, evidently getting closer to his release. your walls fluttered around his throbbing cock, and you felt him smile against your neck.

“getting close, doll? can feel you squeezing me. do you wanna cum?” he breathed in your ear, his trusts getting speeding up, albeit sloppily. “yes, please, wanna cum so bad.” you whimpered breathlessly, your answer slightly muffled by his hand. “yea? wanna cum around my cock while i fill you up? oh, fuck, squeezed me so tight when i said that,” he laughed, apparently enjoying your reactions. “‘m gonna fill this pussy up so full,” he groaned, dangerously close to his release.

he came with a grunt, and you came around him, back arching off of his car. your body quivered with after-shocks, and he pulled out slowly, eliciting a whimper from your throat. he helped you stand, and supported you when you wobbled a little. he grabbed your panties, and helped you put them back on. you gave him a slightly confused look, to which he replied, “want you to feel my cum leak out of your pussy all day, got it? want you to feel how wet your panties get with my cum.” your eyes widened at the prospect, but your straightened yourself out all the same.

when you started to walk away, he gave your ass a quick swat, and called after you, “nice discussion, doll. let’s do it again sometime.”

general/hp taglist: @mollysolo @midgardianweasley @horrorxweasley @batcat46 @nerdyblogger06 @ildm4ev @marimorena06 @slytherclawbitch @chaoswalkinq @amphxtrite

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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wildest dreams. | pietro maximoff

fic-tober 2021: day one

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been dreaming about pietro, your best friend, but in a way a best friend should never.

word count: 2k

warnings: fluff, suggestive making out at the end, food mention, some practice fighting

A cascading light warming your eyelids woke you from your peaceful reverie. With a hazy memory, you tried to recall the exact moment you had gotten to the time and place, but the featherlight touches of someone’s delicate fingers distracted you.

You were lying on something, or rather, someone, who felt as soft as the fullest cloud on a warm day. It was an inviting feeling, something unexpected, but welcomed nonetheless. You struggled to remember who it was you were lying against, but you felt nothing but relaxation as you matched your breathing with the stranger behind you. The natural rhythm of their beating chest ebbed you in and out of a conscious state, light streaming in the corners of your eyes.

Your fingers found their way to the arm of the mysterious stranger, running across the smooth plains of their bicep muscles. Raking your nails gently across the crystal light skin, a gentle hum creeped out of the stranger, followed by a sigh of contentment from yourself.

Keep reading

#timezone reblog

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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wildest dreams. | pietro maximoff

fic-tober 2021: day one

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem!reader

summary: you’ve been dreaming about pietro, your best friend, but in a way a best friend should never.

word count: 2k

warnings: fluff, suggestive making out at the end, food mention, some practice fighting

“I could get used to this.” The stranger spoke in a strong but distinct accent, one you recognised. It wasn’t long before you turned your head, straining your neck backwards, to lock eyes with the sapphire-like one of your Sokovian lover.

“Mmm, every morning is better than the last.” The words rolled off your tongue without a conscious thought, taking you by surprise. It felt right, you and Pietro, lying across a bed, bathing in the morning sunlight. This is how it always is.

“Draga mea, I wish the mornings would never end. I wish the days would never bleed, pulling us into the night. I wish to spend every morning, holding you, kissing you, loving you. Take me as an honest man; hold the afternoon off for me. For us.”

His words were unnatural, but most gentle, like something a poet would sing from the rooftops. You melted into Pietro’s embrace, never wanting this moment to end, as he continued his spoken word.

“Some wish for riches, some wish for gold. My wish is for you to never leave me hold.” After he finished his crisp syllable, he started humming, a tune you could recognise but couldn’t quite name. Yet, his words resonated within you, more than you thought.

“Wow,” you were sure your face was a vibrant scarlet by now, “who said that?”

Pietro chuckled, running his fingers through your hair, massaging your scalp. “I did, dragâ. Don’t act so surprised.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, so light you could’ve missed it. “One day, when we have wed, I’ll speak more words to you. Every day longer with you by my side will be a new prose from my tongue.”

“Sounds like the dream.” You hummed affirmatively, before your own words settled in.

Dream. Dream.

This was just a dream.

And as soon as the world formed around you, it dissipated into the golden skylight, fading into a numbness of senses. You felt yourself being shaken from your dream, the reality around you changing to the darkness of your bedroom. The last picture in your mind was the smile on Pietro’s face. Pure happiness.

Your eyes flickered open, a strange sensation as it only just felt like you already had your eyes peeled, trying to memorise every last detail on the Sokovian’s face.

Your bedroom was dark, cold, empty. Beneath you, the only thing that was warm was the pillow that you had been clinging onto for dear life, nearly crushed between your arms. The arm around you echoed with silence, the dead of the room calling for someone else to be there, next to you.

Bring your legs up to your chest, you sunk your head onto your knees, pondering your most recent dream. Pietro was your friend. Pietro was your best friend. Dreaming of having your best friend kiss your head in such a loving way was not apart of the job description. You shivered, deep disturbed with yourself, but also melancholic.

It was just a dream, but why had it felt so right? You had never thought of Pietro that way, never even wanting to, but now here you were, in the dead of the night, wishing that you were laying next to a certain speedster, and not your cotton pillow.

––:––:––:––

You hadn’t wanted to sleep after your dream, but you had to. It was a dreamless sleep, only an hour or two of pitch black nothingness, only yourself in the empty cavern of your own brain.

When you had woken, your thoughts immediately went to Pietro again. The break of daylight was streaking through your curtains, reminding you of what could’ve been. You reached out, stroking the spoke next to you on your bed, hoping that he might’ve been there to kiss your fingertips and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but alas, he was not.

You couldn’t afford to feel miserable unfortunately. You had a day of training with two people; the devil who could read your mind and the devil on your mind. All you hoped is that you could push down any realisation that was beseeching your heart.

Conflicted, the only thing you felt as you made your way into the Avenger’s compound kitchen to grab something to eat for breakfast. Sitting alone on one of the bar stools was the very silver-haired man who had been plaguing your thoughts all morning. Hoping you could avoid conversation, you slinked around the corner, feigning ignorance. Unfortunately, it hadn’t gone to plan.

“You look like shit.” Pietro softly chuckled, placing down the sandwich in his hand. “Bad night sleep? Bad dreams?”

Your blood ran cold as he mentioned dreams. There was no way he could’ve known, a thought that calmed you down, even if it was so slightly. Opening the cool fridge gave you the opportunity to calm down, recomposing yourself before giving a clipped answer.

“Thank you for your observations, roadrunner.” You rolled your eyes, taking out the bottle of orange juice, resting in the cool condensation from the glass. “But my dreams weren’t that bad, just–” You paused. “Wild.”

Pietro let out a half hearted laugh. “Wild? Who was the lucky person in your dreams then?” Tugging a small smirk to the corner of your lips, you stuck your tongue out at him in retaliation.

“Not that type of wild.” You debated, tracing a heart in the condensed glass. “Think wild, as in strange, out there, unnatural, but calm. A peaceful wander into a maze of your own mind.”

“Who said that?” Pietro took another bite of his sandwich, looking you dead in the eyes with his own, genuinely curious.

You flushed red. “I did, can’t believe it? The person in my dream taught me to speak with my heart, not my mind.”

“Smart person.” Pietro quipped back, recognising the venom in your tone. “Did this mystery person give you any other advice? Any learning experiences from your dream?”

Resting for a moment, before smiling, letting serenity flood you. “Enjoy your mornings.” And you skipped off.

––:––:––:––

“You have an elevated mood this morning.” Wanda made the offhanded comment, throwing another punch your way, which you expertly dodge, toppling her off of her weight, pushing her forward, so you could hitch your knee up to her stomach.

You had been training with Wanda for about half an hour now. Sweat had been falling from your forehead for quite a while by now, your heart rate up and your smile permanently fixed to your smug face. Of course you were happy. Ever since your dream, it was like you were always happy.

Pietro had yet to join you and Wanda in the gym, a fact you didn’t mind. You were still trying to find a way to confront him, especially with the hidden feelings you seemed to possess, something that only fuelled you further, as your threw another punch to Wanda, only narrowly missing her face.

“Prințesă, you may be my best friend, but that does not give you permission to go mauling up my sister, no?” Pietro’s voice was sultry smooth, a fact you were only just realising now after your revolutionary dream, but, he said best friend, something that was getting harder and harder to ignore.

“Maybe, if you arrived on time, she wouldn't have to.” Wanda joked back to her brother, using the opportunity to grab onto your leg and swinging it around, tipping you off your weight, sending you hurtling to the ground.

Luckily, Pietro saw this coming, quickly looping his arm around your waist, pulling you close to his chest. It was like deja vu how your heart fluttered, remembering the similar moment that you shared in your dreams last night. With a drifting mind, you didn’t even notice the gentle caress on your face.

Pietro was looking right at you, eyes laced with concern, breathing heavily himself. You must’ve lost sense for a moment, because your confused expression confused the two twins as well.

“Are you okay?” Pietro asked, his fingers still running down the side of your face. Subconsciously, you leaned into his palm, nuzzling your cheek and exhaling.

“Just– mm, dizzy.” You muttered, before taking back the situation. With a rush of self control, you parted from Pietro, flashing him a cautious smile, readjusting your weight, closing your shaking arms into your sides. “I’m probably just tired.”

“Tired?” Pietro scoffed, running his hands through his hair. “Better keep those dreams at bay tonight then, eh?”

––:––:––:––

There was a bright light, shining down on you like a spotlight. It warmed you, spreading a relaxed feeling of joy pulsating through your veins. Clinging onto the sheets beneath you, you clawed at your surroundings, grounding yourself in the cocoon of never ending clouds.

Lips were attached to your neck, a fact that you only just realised then and there. Just above your pulse point, a mystery someone was sucking with fervour, nipping and pulling at your sensitive skin, eliciting soft moans from your mouth.

Having enough of this foreplay, you laced your fingers in the hair of the mysterious person, guiding their lips to your own. As soon as your lips collided, you etched further, deeming the kiss by rolling your hips up to theirs, dragging their chest closer to yours. You were bare, feeling the naked skin on your chest, the warmth of the connection soothing.

Your hands traced the shoulders of the mysterious stranger, mapping out every inch of their skin, drinking them in with your eyes. Their torso was tight and defined, making them look like a Greek god.

Humming with affirmation, you looked your stranger in the eyes, welcoming the familiar cerulean of your best friend. Pietro was panting slightly, a bit out of breath from the strenuous kiss. He was holding himself up just a little, hovering over you. You could tell that he was itching the touch you, so you rolled both of you over, so you were laying on his chest.

Kissing his pecs, Pietro cupped your face, guiding you across his body, just ever so slightly. His touch was familiar, something you craved, something you needed.

“You look like a dream.” Pietro muttered under his breath, but just loud enough for you to hear. Your face fell at his self aware words, but as your realisation crept in, you noticed the world around you, still holding up, not breaking aware into the great abyss of your mind.

“You are the dream.” Your thoughts still swirled in your mind, but you pushed them back as you crawled back up Pietro’s torso, placing a passionate kiss against his lips, drawing an elongated moan from his throat.

“I hope this never ends.” Pietro muttered against your lips and you pressed on, diving your tongue in past his lips, taking whatever you could get. It was intoxicating, addicting. You also hoped this would never end, but questions still had to be asked.

“Am I dreaming?”

Pietro smirked against your lips, letting out a low chuckle.

“Of course,” a pause, “but I still mean what I said.”

- @prfctethereal 2021

#pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader #pietro maximoff x you #marvel #fan fiction

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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im gonna try put something out every day in october. wish me luck

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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please i'm obsessed with this

A done deal (2.3k)

summary: james and reader makes a bet. if reader wins, she wants james to set her up with sirius. reader wins. feelings are all over the place

warnings: some swear words

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

a/n: im #obsessed with the rivals to lovers trope so enjoy!! also I think the grading scores aren't right for quizzes or schoolwork I used in here i don't really care tho lmao it's kinds confusing n so this was kind of shite too but wtv

You shoot up almost immediately after Mcgonagall announced the dismissal, grabbing your bag and quickly packing up your stuff. You could feel James' stare from across the room, cold, stiff, and utterly annoyed. You look upright and shoot him a condescending grin, making sure all your pearly white teeth was shown while you held the paper up so he could see.

On top of the paper was a giant O that stood for Outstanding. James gives a mocking smile as he grabs his own bag and heads for the door. He tries to make a quick exit before you show up in front of him, hands in place each ends to trap him from going out.

"Sorry Potter, not done rubbing it in your face yet." You quip, smiling at him and quickly patting his shoulder.

James gave a pity groan. "Oh I swear to Merlin, one of these days I'll have enough courage to actually ram through you."

You gave a shrug, lifting your hands away from the door ends and letting him pass through. You followed as he went, "So, new bet." You said simply.

James lifted his eyebrows in question. "What the hell else do you need Y/l/n?"

"Silly question Potter, humiliating you is never enough for me." You hum as the both of you matched footsteps. "However...' you said while dragging the word out 'This time it doesn't require you humiliating yourself." You said with click of your tongue.

"Well now." James said, his voice full of haughtiness. "You finally caving in the Potter charm, darling? I must say I didn't ex—"

You shoved him before the words escaped his stupid little mouth. "Never Potter, believe me. Not ever." James let out a scoff, then put his arm on your shoulder, patting you softly like a toddler.

Yet again, you shove his arm away from your body and put some distance between you two. "Deal or not deal? We have a Charms quiz on Thursday. I'd love the sweet taste of victory. Again." You say with full confidence.

"What do you get if you win, and what do I get if I win?" He asked suspiciously, looking down on you with his full lips pursed.

"What do I get when I win?" You questioned, "You set me up with your friend Sirius Black." You said with a smirk up at him.

It was as if someone had pinched James on both his cheeks, turning red on cue as the words escaped your mouth. "What?" He asked, voice shrill. "Ha! What? You— Sirius?" He spluttered out, clearly missing out on a chapter. James tried to gather his composure, it didn't work and his cheeks only turned even redder. "Since when have you fancied Sirius Black?" He asked as if it felt impossible.

You didn't take much from his response, only shrugging "I mean, everybody fancies Sirius Black. And I dunno— we did chat a few times. He was pretty nice, shouldn't hurt to give it a go." You said, ever so casually. James had to furrow his brows and move closer to see if you were fucking with him. But your expression was put together, it didn't look like scheming to him.

James faltered just a little, "Alright then." He agreed, "But if I win, you forget about him."

It wasn't clear then to you, how he said it with a low tone. Like he was hoping you wouldn't question it, but it was weird after all, you couldn't help "But why—?"

James interrupted just before you finished, putting a finger in front of your face to shush you and then shoving his palm to the soft line of yours, pressing them firmly against each other in a handshake. "Deal."

—

Thursday arrived in a flash, you still couldn't figure out why Potter wanted you to forget about Sirius. Maybe it had something to do with Black's attitude, but he was pleasant to you the few times you've talked. And he was friendly too, talked a lot— but friendly. So it was … just questionable. And Potter didn't seem the type to protect you or anything. You shook the disturbing thoughts from your head and quickly got ready for the day.

You walked inside Flitwick's classroom, already locking eyes with James Potter who had his spectacles on a bit wonky and his hair was all mussed up. Weird, he was usually neatly composed with his hair all tucked up nice and his smirk growing bigger with confidence. You shrugged it off anyways, the more weary Potter became, the better.

You were serious about this bet, you've been quite alone these past few months. Well, except for Potter with you all this time. But that didn't count, he was only there to torment you after all. Always showing in front of the doors of classes he didn't even attend, only to hold a stack of well marked papers. You laughed at the memory, your relationship with Potter was quite weird actually. But it was also ... calming.

It was hard to explain, but the ease of being with him was unlike anyone you've ever been with. Yes, Potter likes to go on and on about how easy the Transfiguration quiz was, casually flexing his ability to finish it in less than 30 minutes. 'Record time, I must say.' His words, not yours. But he also unintentionally keeps cheering you on, always encouraging you to work harder on the quizzes, pushing you to do your best.

So maybe if you thought about it ... — wait no. No. Stop thinking about him, Y/n. Merlin, get your head out of there. Fucking focus.

You quickly pull yourself together, glancing again at Potter as you took your seat next to Marlene. You shoot him a proper smile, watching the apple of his cheeks blend red as he bites his lip to lock shut.

You could've sworn Marlene let out a small chuckle next to you. But before you could question it, Flitwick had already charmed the papers to float in front of each student. A quill and an ink pot appeared out of thin air. Then, "You may begin, students."

You took a last look at Potter, dipped your quill inside the ink pot, then began writing as quick as your brain finished reading the first question.

—

"So, as you know.' Flitwick cleared his throat, 'Last week, I held a quiz to review the materials we've learned this past few months. Now I'll be handing out the papers with your results on it. Note that if you have received a P on it, you must retake this quiz right after your last class is over." He finishes.

You sat upright, Potter did too. As Flitwick began passing the papers around, Marlene whispered in your ear. "Got some real serious eye-fucking going on here with Potter, eh Y/l/n?"

"Shut it, Mar." You said in a hushed manner.

"Ask him out, why don't you? You two have been like this for ages. Merlin, everybody knows you're both obsessed with each other." She said in a matter-of-factly tone, making you want to walk her across the room.

"What? Everybody—" You stopped yourself short, smiling properly as Flitwick handed you your paper. After he'd gone away you then continued to Marlene, not even bothering to check your score. "Everybody who?"

She only rolled her grey eyes at your question, "Practically everybody. You've always been so close to him. And no, don't tell me it's because you're both so competitive with each other and only ever spend time doing schoolwork. Because no."

You stared at her, "Mar you really should stop listening to what 'everybody' is saying." You said with an easy smile.

Marlene gave you an unimpressed nod and you took a deep breath. Across the room, James was looking at you intently. His gaze fixed on the paper that was still unturned by you. He pointed his finger towards the door, signaling you to meet him right after the lesson ends.

—

"Well I've never been truly mad at an exceeds expectations before." James spoke in a low voice while looking at you with an expression that was clearly not impressed with how you were smiling widely at him.

"Yeah, yeah. Lead me to your friend, it's a done deal Potter." You laughed lightly. James nodded once, twice, then he finally seemed like he just remember what you were talking about.

It took maybe a couple minutes for you to reach the Gryffindor common rooms. The classroom wasn't far from it anyways, and you were quite excited too. It was in the middle of your walk did Potter falter in his steps and stopped just for a quick minute.

"Hey could I just ask why Sirius?" It was so sudden that you had to check your steps and stop in place to join him.

"Well ... why not? He—he's quite the charmer. And I know he's not really seeing anyone at the moment so I was just curious is all."

"Curious, really?" James asked with a snort, a sort sort offending one actually.

"Look Potter, I just wanted— to want—" You sighed heavily, covering your face with your hands now. It all just seemed to quick. In one mere minute, James Potter had quickly stripped you off everything you've built.

"Want what?" He asked, voice so light. He shifted so he was closer to you, body leaning against one of the pillars in place.

"Just—"

"Okay Y/l/n at this point, I'm really questioning your debate skills. I thought you were proper—"

"I'm just a little lonely! Alright?" You practically shouted, a laugh then escaping your lips to hide away the crack in your voice.

James was no longer leaning on the pillar anymore, staring at you so intensely now that you felt the need to back up. He pursed his lips and let out a small sigh.

"Stop it! Stop staring at me like that! I know, I know I'm a stupid little loner alright? Just stop it." You said, already feeling so drained by this interaction. "And I know being with Sirius would feel ... I dunno— heard? He's friendly and he's alright and I just wanted a friend even, so I thought that if you would introduced us officially then I'd have a chance to expand my social life."

James laughed. He laughed! And you were this big mess in front of him, so you wanted nothing but to shove him aside. And so you tried that, you bought your arms forward to try and push him away. But it was no use, James Potter turned out to be more built than you expected. All those Quidditch training must have shaped him so well.

Your hands were still on his shoulders, his palms quickly encircling your wrists to hold them back from shoving him. But then he ... then he did something. Then he took your hands and bought them closer to his body, letting them slot between his arms.

"Potter—"

Pure shock barely registered in your mind before his lips came crashing down to meet yours in an enticing kiss. Your lips didn't move for the first few seconds because of how frozen you were.

So James was pulling away from you, your arms free from his hold. His cheeks were so red that any bit of his skin was hidden behind that crimson tinged softness. "Oh. Oh Merlin Y/n—"

Your eyes widened at its own accord. James was muttering all these kinds of 'sorry's, his head shaking in regret. But it was all too overwhelming for you, so you just grabbed his warm face in your hands and pulled your lips close to his and kissed him so hard you'd think his soul escaped.

You could tell the shock from James had died down because soon he was pushing you against the pillar. And his hands came to your neck, cupping your jaw and your cheeks and never seeming to want to stop. You felt the same, snorting into his mouth but not enough to stop your actions.

Your hands come up to his neck, then grazing through his hair to pull at the dark curls. His hair felt softer than it looked, you pulled at the strands as he groaned right in your mouth. He was pushing you harsher against the pillar until you were laughing softly and pushing him to stop and catch a breath.

Two people. A mess. Both of you were an utter mess. You were biting your swollen lips now, the taste of him still so prominent. James laughed nervously, his hand going to scratch at the back of his neck. "Y/n, that was a— uh—"

You didn't know what to say, mouth bound speechless as the new sight of James stood in front of you. Black curls everywhere, spectacles resting crookedly on his face, and his cheeks painted wildly red. You laughed nervously and formed a content smile.

"You're not a stupid little loner, Y/n." He said softly.

"We kiss once and you're officially obsessed with me huh?" You asked playfully while raising your brows at him.

"No. No I've always been obsessed with you." He says with a small chuckle. Just when you were about to talk, James interrupted yet again. "This is why we have a stupid rivalry anyways. I mean, I'll admit it was fun the first time. But then you got so competitive Y/l/n, and I couldn't help but play along with this game because ... well because I love this side of you. And it also meant having you interact with me, I couldn't pass up that opportunity. You know?"

Red crept up to your skin so fast after hearing his words. You mouthed a 'What?' to James, to stunned to even use your voice. He nodded with an eye roll. Then you chuckled and grabbed his arm that was in front if you, hooked it around your neck and leaned in to kiss him again. As soon as your lips connected, it was as if no one could bring you apart anymore.

—@ wrathspoet

#James potter #fic recs

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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writing again

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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Will there be any more just another horror movie? I'm hooked on the series !!!

yes! this week is my last week of prelims and then i’m on break so i’ll be able to put out the next chapter then (as well as some other things). thank you for patience :)

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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i think i might be in love with this story

Hi can I just say first I’m in love w every one of your fics!!

Can I make a request for the reader being a childhood friend of the Maximoffs who gets healing powers and saves Pietro when he’s shot by Ultron, but it takes a lot out of her. They’ve liked each other for a while but never admitted it until weeks later at the compound when she’s finally getting back her strength and he confesses? + maybe some smut after years of pining 😩

saved - p.m.

pairing: pietro maximoff x fem! reader

summary: you didn’t know anyone you were closer with than pietro, and you’d do anything to save him. even if it takes everything out of you.

word count: 5,613

tw: kissing. mention of blood and death.

a/n: hi anon! thanks so much for the request! i love this idea!!! i'm such a whore for some mutual pining. i didn’t do much smut stuff, only because i’m in a place at the moment where i feel like it wouldn’t be adequate writing... and my schedule is swamped so i didn’t really have time. i hope this was alright!

GROWING UP IN Sokovia had shaped the way you lived your life. Some might suggest that it was the culture; the holidays you celebrated, the food you consumed, the values instilled upon you, even the way you greeted your elders. But you always knew it was the people that had done it all. Specifically, your two best friends: Wanda Maximoff and Pietro Maximoff.

Fraternal twins, they were, and special ones at that. Wanda was a little bit more timid that Pietro was, and she had a sharp tongue that could cut you real bad if you weren't careful. Pietro was personable, flirtatious, and effortlessly charming; he could get you out of any situation, and had always been able to make your heart skip a beat without moving a muscle. That was the only part that had never changed after missiles came in.

When the STARK missiles came in and bombed Sokovia, you had been one of the lucky ones. One had struck right in your backyard, and you had managed to escape unscathed (for the most part), but the rest of your town had not been so fortunate. Both your parents and Olek and Iryna, the two heads of the Maximoff family, were killed in the attacks. Wanda and Pietro, the only two in the house that survived, had to hide underneath a bed for two whole days in fear that one of the remaining missiles would be set off.

Both of the twins changed significantly after that. The three of you stayed close friends, and grew closer after the events, but something shifted; whether it be the decreasing frequency of Wanda’s witty comments or the halting of flirtatious winks and gestures from Pietro, you knew that each of them had suffered greatly from the traumatic events they were forced to go through at such a young age. You, too, had gone through it, but your experience simply could not compare to theirs. You had enough sense to recognize that.

Thus, the three of you were orphaned at age 10. You were not a Maximoff, but being their closest friend, it seemed you might as well have been. This tragic event lead Pietro and Wanda to grow up slightly more rebellious, being only loyal to one other, however that held one exception — you.

You did everything with one another. Wanda was like a sister you never had, a girl with a powerful soul and a passion for her friends and family like no other. It would be strange to say Pietro was like a brother, for there had always been something different about him. He was like a puzzle waiting to be solved, however he was one of the most genuinely good people you had ever met, and you seemed to always feel safe around him. Not to mention he was cute.

And then came H.Y.D.R.A. When you had all turned 18, you decided to volunteer to be apart of their official experiments. They had told you that they were fighting for the future of Sokovia, and would change the world. They explained that although not everyone was on their side, that they could be trusted and were the good guys in the end. Foolishly, the three of you believed them.

In the end, the three of you miraculously were the only ones who survived the experiments they did; they used the Mind Stone, striking you with it and trying to see what effect it might have on you. Wanda seemed to connect with it the most, but that didn’t mean it didn’t change something within you and Pietro, as well.

Whether this wad good or bad, you weren’t sure, but the three of you ended up with enhanced, superhuman powers. Wanda was gifted with telekinesis, energy manipulation, and some form of neuroelectric interfacing that allows her to both read thoughts (and control them).

You and Pietro, however, did not get as fancy ones as hers. Pietro was gifted with the ability to move at a superhuman speed, as well as strength and durability (it had also turned his hair silver). You were gifted with powers to heal and to grow; the grass sprouted when you walked, flowers blooming, wounds healing. You started with paper-cuts, then scraps, then gashes, then bullet wounds, and so on and so forth.

Despite the three of you gaining special abilities, it did not help much with your current situation in Sokovia; the country was poor as can be, and those who had money did not do much to help others with it. So you and Pietro decided to use your powers to an advantage. It helped that you made a great team.

“Go, go! I can only cover it for so long!” you whisper-hissed to him, as an array of leaves and other vegetation formed almost a barrier over the security cameras and windows; Pietro sped around the house, grabbing everything he could, whether it be food, clothes, toys, you name it.

“Got it!” he called, and with your free hand, you tossed him the backpack you carried. He unzipped it with fervor and stuffed all of the stolen items inside. “Okay, that’s it, I think.”

“Okay, let’s go, then,” you said, and when he bent his knees, you hopped onto his back. You dropped your hands, causing the leaves to slowly uncover the cameras and windows, but before anything could catch sight of the pair of you, Pietro sped the both of you out, leaving not a trace behind.

Later that evening, you unpacked the things in one of the many plazas of Sokovia, where the pair of you handed the items out to the other citizens. Many times it was medications for the elders, however sometimes it was balls and toys for children, or warm coats for when it got cold (God knew it got cold in Sokovia!).

“There you go,” Pietro said politely, handing a stack of winter clothes to an older looking couple. They thanked him and went on their way. While you handed a beat-up looking soccer ball to a young boy, Pietro grabbed one of the medication bottles and looked at it. “Ah, those the right ones?”

“Yeah,” the old man confirmed.

“The doctor who refilled it... no more insurance hassle,” Pietro reassured him, closing the mans fingers around the bottle with a warm expression. “I made a house call.”

“How much?” the man asked. You got to your feet and shook your head.

“Oh, no,” you told him. “Just take it, okay?”

“Thank you,” the man said gratefully. “Thank you so much.”

“This is for your brother,” Pietro said, holding a soccer ball, this time speaking to a younger blonde woman with smooth skin and rosy lips. Your eyes flickered between Pietro and her for a moment before turning back around with a frown.

“Thank you,” she said graciously.

“And this,” Pietro started. He then handed her a skimpy, silver flapper dress. “Is not for your brother.”

“Oh! No, this is...” the woman said, taken aback, grabbing the dress by the straps with a flustered expression. “This is too...”

“Is every girl in Sokovia getting as dress from Paris?” Wanda interjected as she walked by. “At least Gertie’s looked warm.”

“At least Gertie got a dress,” you commented, stepped past Pietro so you could walk alongside Wanda. Pietro pursed his lips at you. “What?"

“Erm...” Pietro scoffed, shifting his eyes to the blonde woman. “She’s kidding.”

You snickered under your breath, trading sly looks with Wanda as the pair of you walked away from the scene. Pietro, however, jogged to catch up with the pair of you, looking smug.

“You’re just jealous you’re not getting a dress,” Pietro told Wanda.

“You two keep stealing, and you’re going to get shot!” she told the pair of you, and the sly look left your face. You frowned, glancing up at Pietro, who only scoffed. Wanda whacked him on the shoulder. “I mean it. At speed, nothing can touch you, but standing still...”

“Do you think I want to be?” Pietro halted walking, stopping right in front of you and Wanda. “You said ‘Wait.’ I’m waiting. I don’t know for what! We had Stark helpless, all these years, and you—”

“Costel!” called a woman’s voice from behind the three of you. You turned your heads to look, to see the blonde woman from earlier running up to her young son, who had been coming back from the opposite direction. “Costel, where did you go?”

“The Church,” Costel replied. He then shifted his eyes to the three of you. “The man says you need to come to the Church.”

“What man?” you asked him skeptically. He shifted anxiously to his left.

“The Iron Man,” he replied. Pietro turned his head to face the pair of you, surprised. You pursed your lips and traded a glance with Wanda; she nodded.

The walk to the Church was not long, considering most large buildings in Sokovia where moderately close to one another, and the biggest Church in the country was only a ten minute walk from the plaza. You shivered from the cold night’s air, goosebumps raising on your arms and neck. Pietro glanced down at you; the pair of you had fallen behind Wanda, who seemed to be walking like she was on a mission.

“Are you cold?”

“Huh?” you shifted your e/c eyes to look at Pietro.

“Are you cold?” he repeated gently. He gestured to your bare arms. “You look cold.”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you reassured him, but it seemed he didn’t care abut your answer, for he was already shrugging off his jacket. He handed it over to you, and when you didn’t take it, he draped it over your shoulders.

“Put it on,” he told you firmly. “I know you are cold.”

You tilted your head up to look at him (since when had he gotten so tall?), sending him a look, and begrudgingly you slipped your arms into the sleeves. It was more oversized on you than you imagined, but you supposed the amount of muscle he had grown over the years was more extreme than you had realized. The jacket was warm and smelled like the cologne he had probably stolen; you pulled it closer to you as the three of you entered the Church.

Inside of the Church was Ultron, an Iron Legion created by the combined efforts of Bruce Banner and Tony Stark in an attempt to achieve world peace. When the three of you spoke with Ultron, he claimed to be on a mission to destroy the Avengers, saving the world in the process. With your hatred for Stark, the three of you agreed without hesitation, for it would be the perfect opportunity to avenge your parents as well as help others in the process. What could go wrong?

Turns out, a lot. In the end, after various fights with the Avengers, you learned Ultron’s ulterior motive: the iron legion had decided that mass extinction was only way to achieve true world peace. He sought out to destroy all of human life, and replace it all with that of metal.

After a rather detrimental fight, one that risked your lives more than once, you teamed up with the Avengers — something none of you would have dreamed of doing the day before. Pietro and Wanda may have been siblings, but when in the heat of the battle, you and Pietro made the best team; you worked fluidly with one another, no hiccups, no trips. Even Steve Rogers had complimented the pair of you on your ability to rely on one another.

“Guess we were made for each other,” Pietro had commented, shooting you a wink. Your face had heated up, and you grinned back at him before averting your eyes downwards. Even after everything, it seemed he could still make you flustered with just a single comment. Couldn’t he see what it did to you?

Pietro was often rather impulsive during a fight. You were used to looking after him, which was why the two of you worked so well with one another, but it was often an issue due to his ability to run off and do things so quickly. You had not talked to him about shooting a gun into the air in an attempt to get people to evacuate, nor did you think telling the citizens to, “Get off their asses,” was a very wise idea. But it worked, so you supposed you couldn’t complain too much.

“The city is… falling apart,” you had said, pressing a finger to your earpiece. “Like… literally…”

“Really? I didn’t notice,” said Steve’s voice sarcastically. You scoffed.

“Do you see?” came a booming, technological voice from above. You and Pietro shifted your horror-filled gazes upwards, inside the sky, where Ultron hovered above. “The beauty of it, the inevitability. You rise, only to fall. You, Avengers, you are my meteor, my swift and terrible sword and the earth will crack with the weight of your failure. Purge me from your computers, turn my own flesh against me. It means nothing. When the dust settles, the only thing living in this world will be metal.”

“Oh, god,” you muttered. Pietro said nothing. “Robots. Taking over the world. Never actually thought this would happen.”

“It won’t, and it isn’t,” Pietro reassured you lowly. And then, stepping towards you, he placed an arm tightly around your torso and said, “We need to move.”

And then, you were off. Pietro ran the both of you towards a different part of the city, and although it wasn’t much safer, he pulled off to the side into a nearby alleyway. When he stopped running, he doubled over, clutching his abdomen and panting.

“You alright?” you asked him gently. He nodded his head, still panting, but looked up at you and gave you a charming grin.

“Yeah,” he breathed. “Just need to catch my breath.”

“Come on, then,” you told him, “We kind of have to save the world, now, so catch your breath later.”

“Anything for you,” he said in response, winking, before running the pair of you off again.

“Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely. The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart,” said Steve’s voice from within your earpieces. Pietro had opened his mouth to reply to you, but clamped it shut at the sound of the Captain. “You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed, walk it off.”

“Y’hear that?” you said to Pietro, who squinted up at you, still panting. “Gotta walk it off. Let’s move.”

“You’re tough!” He breathed, grabbing her again and letting out a sharp exhale. “Okay, whatever you say.”

“All right, we’re clear here,” said Clint’s voice from the earpiece.

“We’re not clear!” said Steve. “We are very not clear!”

“Wanda,” you heard Pietro’s voice said as you sped along and caught sight of Clint and Wanda. “Dragă, I need my other arm so I can grab her, okay?”

“Fine by me,” you let go of his other shoulder, and he sped up to his sister so he could let her hand onto him as well before he sped the both of you off.

“The next wave's gonna hit any minute,” said Steve’s voice. “What have you got, Stark?”

“Well, nothing great,” said Tony. “Maybe a way to blow up the city. That'll keep it from impacting the surface if you guys can get clear.”

“I asked for a solution, not an escape plan,” said Steve.

“Impact radius is getting bigger every second,” Tony told them. “We're going to have to make a choice.”

The three of you Steve and Natasha, who were standing right at the edge of the city. But as they approached, you caught sight of a giant sort of jet, with tons of people on it, and you could see life-boat type vehicles shooting out from the sides. Pietro stood beside Steve, watching the ship with giddy, almost childlike eyes.

“This is S.H.I.E.L.D.?” He asked in awe.

“This is what S.H.I.E.L.D.’s supposed to be,” Steve replied as you and Clint jogged up to join them.

“This is not so bad,” Pietro said with a chuckle. You ran up to his side where Clint went… elsewhere, you weren’t really paying attention. You glanced up at Pietro, only to see a rather large wound on the side of his arm.

“You’re bleeding,” you said, eyes widening. He glanced at you, and then at his wound, and then back at you, still grinning.

“It is not bad,” He told you. “Like a paper-cut, really.”

“You’re okay, though?”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to worry about me?” Pietro gave you a lopsided grin. “My cuts heal extra fast, remember? I don’t even need you to heal them for me.”

“Just making sure,” you muttered, looking away from him. He bumped shoulders with you.

“I am fine,” he reassured you. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

“Sure thing,” you grinned at him. “Nerd.”

“You’re the nerd!”

“Let’s load ‘em up,” Steve announced. They began loading up as many Sokovians as they could into the boats and onto the jet, ushering them inside and off of the crumbling land.

“Avengers,” came Tony’s voice in her earpiece as she shut the door to the jet full of people and waved it off. “Time to work for a living.”

You cursed under your breath, slinging up vines and swinging yourself towards where the rest of the team was. When you arrived at the abandoned church, you saw Thor, Tony, and Vision already there. Just as you arrived, Pietro had too, as well as Wanda, Cap, and Clint.

“You good?” Pietro asked Wanda just as she arrived.

“Yeah,” She breathed, touching his arm for a second as though to make sure he was still there before they began the fight again.

“Romanoff,” Tony said through the earpiece. “You and Banner better not be playing ‘hide the zucchini.’”

“Relax, shellhead,” said Natasha. “Not all of us can fly. What’s the drill?”

“This is the drill,” Tony said as Natasha jogged in, gesturing towards the whirring metal machine in the center of the church. “If Ultron gets a hand on this core, we lose.”

“Uhm...guys...” you said uneasily, glancing over on the opposite side of the church, where not only did Hulk crash in, but Ultron had flown down from above, hovering a few yards away.

“Is that the best you can do?” Thor asked in a fit of rage. Ultron simply lifted a hand up, causing all of the Iron Legion’s to turn away from the city and rush towards the Avengers. You huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of your face.

“You had to ask,” Steve said to Thor, gazing up at all of the Iron Legions.

“This is the best I can do,” Ultron told them dramatically. “This is exactly what I wanted. All of you, against all of me. How could you possibly hope to stop me?”

“Well,” Tony said. “Like the old man said. Together.”

And with that, a fight. Stronger than the last, the gravity of it waving over their heads as the team fought back against the tens of Iron Legions barraging them. You didn’t even have time to think about anything you were doing; you just had to do, and if you didn’t, you had to get yourself together. It was getting to the point that no one could say anything, and no one could even tell what the others were doing. They just needed to have enough trust in one another that they’d know they were doing the right thing at the right time. There were lasers and beams and blasts and red wisps and vines and flashes of blue and silver. And miraculously, all of them were still standing.

You turned your head to the outside of the church in a moment you had been able to gather yourself, to see Vision, Thor, and Tony each sending a blast right into Ultron, who’s metal skin was melting and burning off of him. He then stood up, panting (could Robots lose their breath?)

“You know,” Ultron began. “With the benefit of hindsight —”

The robot was cut off, however, by the Hulk sending a mighty punch into its face, catapulting him off into the sky to land in a place none of them could see. The other Iron Legion bots, at the sight of Hulk, fled, running off to the edge of the earth and flying off.

“They’re trying to leave the city!” Thor said.

“We can’t let ‘em leave, not even one,” Tony said feverishly. “Rhodey!”

You saw Rhodey in the other suit flying above, but soon Vision joined him, finishing off the last of them. You could’ve laughed; at least Rhodey would have another story to tell.

“We gotta move out. Even I can tell the air is getting thin,” Steve announced. “You guys get to the boats, I'll sweep for stragglers, be right behind you.”

“What about the core?” asked Clint. There was a beat of silence.

“I’ll protect it,” Wanda volunteered. Clint, taken aback, glanced up at her. “It’s my job.”

“Nat,” Clint said, jerking his head to the side. “This way.”

“Get the people on the boats,” Wanda commanded Pietro, who stood below her helplessly. You waited by the edge of the church.

“I’m not going to leave you here,” Pietro told her.

“I can handle this,” Wanda said, blasting a stream of red at another Iron Legion. Pietro sighed, knowing she was right. “Come back for me when everyone else is off, not before.” Pietro rolled his eyes, grunting in annoyance. “You understand?”

“You know,” Pietro told her, sauntering over to join you. “I’m twelve-minutes older than you.”

“Go,” Wanda said, laughing a bit.

“Good luck, Wanda,” you called to her, sending her a kind smile. She returned it.

“Okay,” Pietro said to you, grabbing onto your torso again. “Let’s go.”

“What about — agh!” you tightened your grip on him, your fingers digging into the silver and blue material of his shirt. “Y’know, Cap was right… we do make a pretty sick team…oh, right there! Onto the boat!”

“Hold your horses, Dragă,” Pietro told you sassily, slowing down as the pair of you reached the jet. You rolled her eyes as you let your arms fall from him.

“Don’t need to sass, Maximoff,” You told him, pointing a finger at him playfully. He continued to grin. “Cause — wait, Clint! Oh my god!”

Pietro turned from beside you, eyes wide. And then, suddenly, he was gone, rushing off towards Clint, who was clutching a young kid and preparing to be shot by the thousands of bullets that were being shot at him from the jet above.

“No, Pietro!” You called out, losing him within the explosion. You froze, e/c eyes frantically searching about the fog, and as things cleared up, all you saw was Clint, clutching the kid for dear life, and Pietro, holes through his body, seeping blood onto the ground as his knees buckled from below him. He collapsed onto the pavement. “No, no, no!”

And then, you were running. Running faster than you really thought you ever had before, ignoring the shouts of Steve from behind you. Falling to your knees beside his body and ripping off the mask that sat around your eyes, you rolled him over so his stomach was facing the sky, and with tears pricking your eyes and a surge of energy flooding through your body, you placed your hands onto his bleeding chest and closed your eyes.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon,” You blabbered, not evening seeing that Clint had run off with the kid before running back with Steve, presumably to get her onto the jet.

“Y/N, he’s —” Steve began in a solemn voice.

“No!” you protested loudly, focusing all of your energy onto Pietro. Your eyes were squeezed closed, not even able to see what was going outside of her and Pietro. You could just feel it. Feel him, that is. “I can do this, Rogers. Please.”

Silence. You continued, despite the wetness of your cheeks and the blood coating yours palms. There was life within him, you could feel it. Right on the edge, groping, grasping, choking for a chance — a hand to grab, to help pull itself up. And then — a loud, gruff gasp.

“Holy shit,” Clint muttered. Your eyes popped open. And your e/c iris’ met blue ones.

“Come on,” Steve said, his voice filled with shock although he tried to keep his head. “Onto the boat, come on!”

Wrapping a copious amount of vines around Pietro, you scrambled to your feet and lifted Pietro along with you, tugging him forwards and onto the boat, where you set his body down and sat right beside him. His breathing was jagged, and his eyes were brimmed with tears of pain, but he was looking at you in pure shock nonetheless.

“How…?” He choked out, staring up at you as though you were some angel from heaven to come down and grab him. “How…?”

“Don’t... don’t ever do that again,” you breathed, slumping your shoulders and bracing your hands behind you to catch yourself. Taking a deep breath, you could feel various cramps in your abdomen as well as your chest; your head began to pound like you were getting the biggest migraine of your life, and you suddenly felt as though your energy was being sucked out of you.

“Y/N?” Pietro asked, his voice still groggy. You waved a hand, telling him to lay back down because he was still recovering, but the words never seemed to get out. You let yourself lay back for a moment, your eyelids feeling heavy as the pain of your headache began to surge. And then, all at once, you shut down.

━✾━

BLINDING LIGHTS BEAMED down into your dilated pupils, and at the intensity of it, you squinted, eyelashes fluttering until you could get yourself used to your surroundings. Your arms felt cold and your legs felt warm, but your head still seemed to feel like it weighed a thousand pounds. With a groan, you turned it over to try and bury your face into the pillow beneath your head.

“Hey, hey, hey,” came a careful voice from above you; it was familiar one, deep and gentle, and when you slightly tilted your head back up to look at the source, the flash of various tufts of white-blonde hair let you know it was Pietro. “Y/N?”

“Mm,” you hummed, shrugging your blanket further up to your neck and snuggling into it further. You went to close your eyes and drift off, but Pietro stopped you.

“C’mon, don’t go back to sleep,” he asked softly. “You’ve been sleeping for ages...”

“Ages?” you murmured groggily, still keeping your eyes gently closed. “How long is ages?”

“Like forty-eight hours,” Pietro told you, and your eyes bolted open. And then, in a flash, it all came rushing back to you; Ultron, the fight, Clint, the kid, Pietro, the bullets—

You sat upright. Your head began to throb in pain, and you grimaced at it, but you stayed upright to look at Pietro. Your eyes scanned his torso, searching desperately for any sign of a bullet wound or some other remnant from the attack back in Sokovia.

“I am fine,” he reassured you, lips curling up in a smile. “It’s you that I’m worried about.”

“I’m fine,” you told him dismissively. “What happened to your wounds? I didn’t heal them properly, you were bleeding so much—”

“I’m all healed, Dragă,” he placed a hand on your upper arm; his hands were warm and calloused, and the touch sent a shiver down your spine. “You took care of me.”

“But... but you—”

“Relax, okay?” he told you, pushing you by the shoulder to guide you back down to your pillow. “Saving me took a lot out of you... I don’t want you straining yourself.”

You let out a small breath, softly nodding your head without a word. Pietro stared at you for a very long moment, cerulean eyes tracing across the dips and curves of your face, his hand twitching where it rested on the edge of your bed.

“I thought I was dead,” He began in a quiet, fragile tone. You blinked up at him. “In Sokovia. All those bullets right through me…” He paused, running his tongue over his lips. “But… you... you were there.

“It was just darkness. Nothing else, just… empty space,” Pietro shared, staring down at his hands, fiddling with the single ring on his left hand. “And then… I could feel you. Like I was drowning and there was a hand there, pulling me up… and then I opened my eyes and saw…”

His eyes shifted up to look at you, staring blatantly. Your heart skipped a beat, blinking twice and becoming much too nervous to shift your gaze away. There was something within his eyes, flickering about his pupils and swimming through his iris’; whatever it was, it was a genuine gratitude — or, perhaps, admiration.

Pietro suddenly reached forward and grabbed you by the hand. You made no move to deny his action, letting him take it and fiddle mindlessly with your fingers for a moment before intertwining it with his own.

“Y/N, you...” he began, looking unsure on what words to say. You stared at him wordlessly, waiting patiently and watching carefully as though his nexts words were the most important ones you’d ever hear. “I love you.”

You blinked. “What?”

He blinked. You watched waves of red wash up his cheeks and ears. “You heard me.”

“You—?”

“Yes,” Pietro nodded firmly, brows furrowing. “I love you. I have since we were kids. Almost dying gave me a wake up call that I have to tell you. And then you passed out, so... I had to wait to tell you, but... you get it.”

You opened your mouth, words not falling out. You loved him, you were sure you did, but the shock of knowing the feeling was mutual made you feel like you were going to pass out again.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he muttered. “I just wanted you to know. You’re always looking out for me, even if I don’t see it all the time... and you draining yourself to save me proved that you have to be the strongest person I’ve ever had the pleasure of being best friends with.”

“I love you, too,” you managed to say. His brows lifted, eyes brightening. “I would’ve saved you a million times over, even if it killed me. You mean the world to me, Piet, I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself if I hadn’t done what I did...”

“You were knocked out,” Pietro told you, squeezing your hand and sandwiching it with both of his own. “You wouldn’t wake up, it was... it was scary. I’m glad you’re awake, now.”

“Me too,” you offered him a smile, lips curling up shyly. He blinked down at you, and you watched with pride as his cheeks began to turn scarlet; he grinned and shifted his gaze to your intertwined hands. “Sit.”

You scooted yourself over, giving him room to sit down beside you. He complied, snuggling closer to you so your shoulders were pressed against one another. He turned his head to the side, staring, before he took one of his hands off of yours and brought it up to your cheek.

“Can I—” He began, but you shut him up rather quickly by pressing your lips against his, letting your eyes flutter close until all you could feel was him.

The antiseptic scent of the hospital room was hastily overshadowed by the aroma of his cologne, and the shivers you had from the intense A/C of the room were replaced by his warmth. Your stomach flipped as you pushed yourself closer.

You could feel him grin through the kiss, lips curling upwards as his hands tightened their hold on you; with one palm resting gingerly on the small of your back to push you towards him, the hand that had originally been on your cheek had now tangled itself into your hair, fingers grasping at your scalp. You could have melted.

His tongue swooped across your lips, and you hesitated for a moment before accepting his invitation; there was no battle of dominance between your tongue and his, the pair danced in harmony, and you simply accepting that he would be the one taking over.

When his mouth lifted from yours, you parted your lips to ask him why, but when you felt him begin to lightly trail kisses down your jaw, you fell speechless and simply sighed. He stopped right at your pulse point, nipping at your skin for a moment before continuing down until he reached the upper part of your collarbone. You sighed contently, letting your head tilt back and bringing your hand up to grip at the back of his hair.

“I’ll... return later,” came a voice from the door. You and Pietro jolted apart and whipped your heads to the door. Vision stood there rather awkwardly, Wanda at his heels. Wanda was grinning, and you watched her give a thumbs up to Pietro; he returned it.

“Finally,” Wanda drawled, pushing past Vision and settling herself into the room. Pietro’s face had turned scarlet, but he was beaming so brightly you almost didn’t mind Wanda’s interruption. He locked eyes with you, still grinning, and you smiled back. “Took you eighteen years!”

✾✾✾

a/n: my school starts so soon guys i’m genuinely kind of excited... i’m gonna regret saying that once all my homework starts piling in tho LOL

#fic recs

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prfctethereal · 3 years

Text

i have thought a lot about censorship and what is “appropriate”. not a lot of people know this, but lolita was written to show what we allow on our bookshelves: there being no swear words in it meant it was free from censorship. a book about child molestation was allowed because it didn’t explicitly use the word “fuck”. he wrote it to show we don’t really care about protecting children, and it ended up being seen as a romance.

someone once told me - actually, many people have - that lgbt content isn’t appropriate for children. any content. not just kissing. i’m drowned in questions: “won’t the parents have to explain it?” “kids shouldn’t be thinking about sex at this age, or do you think differently?” “what will the kids think?”

at six i saw disney movies. people kiss and get married. i didn’t ask “what does that mean.” i didn’t ask “are those people going to have sex?” i didn’t ask anything, because i was six, and no six year old thinks twice about these things. nobody ever “explained” being straight to me, it was a fact, and it existed, and i was fine with that. why would being gay require a thesis, i wonder.

someone once told me that the one of the reasons people hate lgbt individuals is because they can’t see us as anything but sexual. we’re not people, so much as sinners. that they don’t see love, they see sex. just sex. it’s perversion, not a matter of the heart. only of the body.

i think i was in my early twenties before i saw someone like me.

how old were you, though, before you saw violence? before you saw sexual assault on tv? i think something like that is only pg-13, and if it’s implied, they can get away with anything. i remember watching things and learning about blood, but knowing sex - sex was what was really wrong. sex was always rated r. sex was always kind of a bad word. i was told a lot that i wasn’t ready.

i had a dream last night that i made a site where people could ask any question they wanted about sex and get answered by a professional. it was shut down in moments because 15 year olds wanted to know if it should hurt, if “double-bagging” was a real thing, if this, if that. we shudder. don’t let the children know about that!

but at thirteen i had seen enough violence it no longer struck me. i couldn’t say “fuck” but i knew that if you break your femur, you can bleed out internally in under half an hour. in school i wasn’t allowed to write about loving girls because what would the administration think - but i could write about wanting to kill myself and people would say how lovely, how blistering.

i have thought a lot about censorship. sometimes people on this site try it with me: don’t write this, don’t be so nasty. some of it is intrinsic. we know as people with a uterus not to complain about “that time of the month”, we know better than to talk about sexual assault (how shameful), we know that talking about a vagina is somehow scandalous. i can say “dick” and nobody questions me. some people only refer to the bottom half of me by “pussy”. they won’t wrap a mouth around “vagina” like it’s poison to them. even discussing this, that the language halts, that there’s an intrinsic desire to say “girls” instead of “women” - feels naughty, illicit. not for children.

the other day someone suggested i make my blog 18+. i said, okay, it deals a lot with depression and other problems that might be for a mature audience. oh no, they said, that’s not it, i think that’s helpful. i said, okay. so what is it then. well, you’re gay. you write about loving women. and i said, i don’t write about sex often and they said. it’s not about the sex. but wlw isn’t for a general audience. teenagers aren’t ready.

oh.

lolita is recommended for high school and up. i think about that a lot. i know girls who love it, who say it speaks to them on a deep level. it’s beautiful prose, after all. that was the whole point of the novel. something that looked like a rose but was intrinsically awful. i think about how if i was a model they’d want me to look young, thin, prepubescent. how my body would be sold and how through the mall i walk by images of barely-clothed women while mothers cannot breastfeed in public without fear of retribution.

i think about how i can write a novel about violence and it will be pg-13 but if my characters say “fuck” twice it’s inappropriate. i said fuck three times so far in this post, which makes it only appropriate for adults.

i think about that, and how my identity is something that people suggest lines up with a swear word. that people shouldn’t talk about it. that it’s a vulgarity. bad for children, harsh, confusing.

fuck. i love women. which one makes this only for those over eighteen.

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prfctethereal · 3 years

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can you write more of your horror movie james series? <3

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: two

warnings: NSFW, smut, vaginal fingers, dirty talk, more dom!james ish, talk of dead bodies, talk of blood, talk of vomiting, talk of blowjobs

word count: 3k

read the previous chapter here

summary: you and james have fun in a police station

The next few hours were a blur. A police car and ambulance arrived at the scene of the crime first, pushing through the cluster of the three of you. It was loud, sirens blaring and men talking. You felt as though you couldn’t get a single thought out. Every wail or movement hurt your already fragile body.

You had yet to see the face of the body, but you weren’t sure if you even wanted to. You could tell that James had, as he had fallen silent. Any conversation you tried to make fell on deaf ears. He was frozen in place, not daring to communicate, a ghostly pale his new default form.

For you, you just felt it drag on. It wasn’t as if you were apathetic; it’s just that you got over it relatively quickly. Before you knew it, you were sitting in the police station waiting room, picking at the dried skin around your fingernails, trying to keep yourself occupied. Through your headphones, the loud blaring of a random rock song blasted your ear drums, blocking out your surroundings, as though you weren’t in a police station.

But you were, and someone had just died.

You had yet to be questioned, but you weren’t allowed to leave the station until you had been. It seemed as though hundreds of police officers had trickled into the station since you had arrived a few hours ago, yet none of them had requested to see you. All of them had turned to look at you, pity in their eyes, and had given you a curt nod, as if that would make everything better.

It hadn’t. You had just given your boyfriend a blowjob a few feet away from a dead body. For a lack of more eloquent words, you were disgusted.

Not just disgusted though. You felt like there was still a churning fire in your lower stomach, a flame that hadn’t been distinguished. Crossing your legs over each other had eased your desire, but not for long. Your mind kept drifting off to the raw sex appeal of your gorgeous boyfriend sitting next to you.

James’ head was in his hands, his eyes turned downwards, scrolling through twitter on his phone. He never stopped to read anything though, his mind obviously somewhere else. As you watched his chest rise and fall with his steady breath, you couldn’t help but salivate. His fingers, and especially thumbs, flexed with every scroll, his muscles on display. You couldn’t help but imagine what other things those fingers could be doing.

But, this wasn’t the right time. You were in a police station. Someone was dead. So, why were you so horny?

“You okay?” You turned to see James, eyes fixed upon you, concern in his eyes. He knew it was a feeble question, but it was the thought that counted. You nodded at an attempt to ease his mind, but it didn’t work. His mouth pursed at your cold demeanour.

“You don’t look okay. You seem…” James’ voice trailed off, his eyes raking up and down your body, in a way that you couldn’t establish what he exactly wanted. “…clammy?”

You scoffed. “I’m a little on edge, you could say.” You waved your hand around, showing your faux calm and collection, as if it was a coveted prize that you had one. James bit his lip, obviously not convinced. His fingers rested upon your thigh, his hands rubbing up and down soothingly. You knew it had only innocent desires, but you couldn’t help but admit how turned on it made you feel.

“I’m here darling,” James’ hand stalled, as he noticed your breath hitch at the nickname, “if you need to talk, and all.”

“Thank you.” In a way to mimic James’ comforting nature, your own hand found its way to James’ muscles thighs, resting there. You smiled sweetly, before turning away from him and closing your eyes.

He must’ve thought the conversation was over, because he turned back towards his phone, his left thumb penetrating his lips, his teeth gnawing at his nail, and his right thumb continued its scrolling adventure.

With your eyes closed, you could still feel the heat of James’ body with your hand, which made a naughty thought pop into your brain. Grinning, you started trailing your hands higher up his leg, stroking the inside of his thigh. A deep exhale from James’ nose was the only sign that you knew he registered your presence. Your heart fluttered as you watched his nostrils flare up in arousal. He must've known what you were doing by now. Biting your lip, you trailed higher, until your hand was resting just under his crotch area.

“I know what you’re doing.” James’ whispery tone was husky and deep, trying not to bring any attention to the two of you. Battering your eyelids, you jutted out your pouty lip, scrunching your nose up in confusion, although you had already formulated a plan.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.” You whispered back to James, letting your hand fall loosely to his side. He thought your teasing was over, letting out the breath he was holding, but you couldn’t avoid the way his pants tightened just slightly. He was enjoying your teasing. Smirking, sadistic ideas came to you, as you felt your hands twitch with desire.

First, you dropped your phone on the ground, the loud clattering on the case onto the concrete floors catching the attention of James and a few passerbys. You gasped slightly, parting your lips just enough to remind James of how you look during more intimate moments. Bending over, you let the edge of your shirt ride up just enough to flash James with the smallest amount of skin. A teasing amount. You could hear his laboured breathing from next to you.

You made a real show of it, poking out your tongue and letting it glide over your bottom lip, your eyes focused on the ground, completely - well, not completely - ignoring James beside you, who was getting more and more flustered by the minute. Cheekily, you let your hand fall past your calf, accentuating your smooth skin. The more skin you showed, the more desperate James acted.

“Aha!” You spoke louder than usual, making sure James’ attention was entirely on you. Curling your fingers around your phone with one hand, you used your other hand to push yourself back up in your chair, until it sat innocently in your lap. Realising James wasn’t going to make a move anytime soon, you attempted a more direct approach.

Your hand was back on James’ crotch instantly. You heard his voice hitch and you knew you were doing something right. Biting your lip, you flexed and unflexed your hand over his growing bulge, teasing ministrations getting him riled up. The material of his pants was the only thing protecting you from his member, and it was getting in the way. Exhaling from your nostrils, a fed up sigh escaped your lips. This was getting you nowhere.

The good thing was, James had finally decided to take initiative. Frustrated with your teasing, you cleared his throat, grunting into his fisted palm, before holding his other hand out in front of you. Smirking, you laid your hand in his, right before he shut his hand tight, tugging on your hand.

“Let’s go.” James grunted under his breath, pulling you to a standing position, wrapping his arm around your waist, he guided you through the hallway until he locked eyes with a stray cleaning closet.

James tugged you into the hallway closet, desperate to get his hands on you after all your “teasing”. You had to give him the benefit of the doubt though, which was that you weren’t playing nice. It was definitely on purpose; your naturally flirty personality shines through once again.

His hands were in your hair in seconds, pulling on the roots, craving something to ground himself. His succulent lips found the softest point of your neck, earning a small growl from the bespectacled boy. The softest bits were always the easiest to mark up.

Shiny, pearls of teeth scratched at the pulse point of your neck, with the tiny ounces of pain, sending tingles of arousal down to your core. You could feel your panties slowly becoming more and more damp, the pleasure getting to a point of being uncomfortable.

James was sucking ferociously now on your neck, persistent on having your skin decorated in hues of blues and blacks for next period. Satisfied with his first mark, he moved south, just slightly, applying more pressure.

“Oh darling, your skin is just divine.” His words were soft and sultry, making you whimper against his lips, the vibrations of your moans able to be felt by James himself. “Keep making those pretty sounds, my love. I love hearing how desperate you are.”

“James, please.” Your words came out as a breathy whine, something that was less and less foreign to you as your relationship with James grew.

“Come on, love, use your words.” James sucked another small bruise into your neck in the short pause. “You know you need to use your words.”

Contradictory to his words, James’ hands traveled southwards, smoothing over the curve of your back, sitting just above your arse, rubbing small circles into the surface. It was too hard not to let everything go. James removed his mouth from his neck, bringing his lips up to the shell of your ear.

“Is this okay?” James asked for consent, which you granted by nodding, bucking your hips unconsciously into James’ growing bulge. Smirking, he moved his hands more, stroking the curvature of your spine. Teasingly, he traced the hem of your skirt, before tugging it down, just enough that the tips of his fingers could dip into the crack of your arse. To convince his to continue, you let out a needy whine, letting James take the reins this time.

His wandering fingers trekked down the side of your thigh, sending pools of arousal straight to your core. With all the teasing you did before, you guessed that this was James’ idea of pay back. HIs fingers were practically ghosts as his lips reconnected with yours, melding together in perfect syncrasy.

It wasn’t long before James’ sneaky tongue found its way into your mouth, sneaking past your bottom lip, arriving unannounced into the castle which is your cavernous mouth. You didn’t even want to put up a fight as James’ tongue took dominance, pushing you deeper into the wall behind you. His hand reached upwards; one hand on your cheek and one hand cupping your arse. As he squeezed your butt gently, you moaned into his mouth, letting James deepen the kiss even more, the vibrations sending blood down to his dick.

Within a few minutes, you both were practically dry humping each other, both being bitches in heat. Tugging needily at James’ neat shirt, you begged him for permission to take it off. Knowing deep down what you need, James pulled away for just a moment, pulling the shirt over his head, flexing his tight muscles. You were mesmerised by his abdominals, the canyons upon canyons creating a tsunami of pleasure in your panties, something you didn’t realise was possible.

Wanting him as soon as possible, you lifted your own shirt over your head, exposing your lace-cladded tits to the horny boy in front of you. James was basically salivating. Instantly, his hands went to cup your tits, squishing and melding them like stress balls, his pupils dilated like raven saucers. “All mine.” He whispered underneath his breath.

“Yes, all yours. I'm all yours. Do what you want with me.” You were panting at this point, as James swiped his thumbs under your bra, teasing your pert nipple. “All yours and only yours. Forever and always. Just fuck me already.”

“Nuh uh.” James removed his hands from you, leaving you flabbergasted, and James breathless from laughter. He went to his belt, tugging it off and letting his pants pool around his ankles “You were the one teasing me. You don’t get to call the shots. This is a little punishment for bad girls who think they know best.”

James’ erection was straining from inside his boxers, desperate for attention, and he knew that punishing you by making you wait was also punishing himself. Your needy whines were just too good to not satiate. Licking his lips, his hands found their way under your skirt again, cupping the bottom of your ass cheeks. “Is this alright?”

“Yes, please.” You needed him. With consent, James pulled down your panties so they were resting on your thighs and swiped his finger through your drenched folds. You really must’ve been aroused; it was like a swamp. Shockily, when James teased your puffy clitoris, he felt you getting even more wet and even more desperate.

Gently, one of his finger’s teased your entrance, before probing inside. Even with just one of James’ thick fingers, you felt full. A hearty moan escaped your lips, before James drank it up by connecting his lips to yours, not wanting to get caught. Inserting another finger while connected, he hushed you, keeping your quiet from any prying ears that might walk past. You didn’t mind; you weren’t new to exhibitionism. You proved that this morning.

This morning. You had forgotten about this morning. The blood on your knees which James had kindly cleaned up, the vomit left in the forest, the dead body in which you had given James a blowjob only a few feet away. You clenched around James’ fingers from the memory, not because it was a particularly nice memory, but because you were still a little frightened.

James, on the other hand, relished in the feeling of your cunt tightening around his fingers and the way your sweet juices dripped onto his hand. Wanting to take you to the edge, he pumped further and harder, making you whimper more and more into his mouth, turning you into a moaning little whore.

“You like that, huh?” James asked, his sickly, sweet voice condescending, dripping like soft honey over your ears. The pleasure was building up fast and you knew that you would have to cum soon, yet you doubted that James would let you, especially after your cheek from just early. So, you tried to suppress it, but he just felt too good.

“So good Jamie.” You muttered, the words spilling out from your mushy brain. “So, so good. Right there.”

“Right,” his fingers curled perfectly at your G-spot, making you arch your back in surprise, “there? Is this what you want?” Menacingly, he slapped his palm against your clit, gifting you with a spark of extra pleasure as you tumbled closer and closer to your edge. The stimulation was becoming too much. You needed release.

“Jamie, gonna cum.” You breathed out, as his fingers continued to pump in and out of you. You relished in the feeling. “Please, please, please let me cum.”

“Oh, you want to cum?” James mocked your innocent expression. “But bad girls don’t get to cum? Weren’t you being so bad before when you were teasing me, hm? Teasing me in front of all those officers? I knew what you were doing all along, baby doll. Your mean demeanor was futile. You were being naughty. Naughty girls get punished.”

James’ monologue was spoken in his husky voice, not helping your little problem with needing to cum. His relentless torture on your cunt was stopping anytime soon and you knew that he would want his release of his own. You knew you wouldn’t be able to hold on for that long. Any attempt would end with your backside covered garnet red hand prints from a domineering James.

“Please.” You were begging at this point. “Please let me cum. I’ll do anything. I beg of you.” Your needy hands were climbing all over James’ torso, needing something to grip onto. It seemed like this motion softened him a little bit, his nice personality showing through once again.

“Fine.” James spat. “Cum. Now.”

And you did. It tumbled over you like a waterfall, hurtling you into a bright white light. You leaned onto James, gripping onto his biceps with due force, trying not to topple over. His hand that wasn’t still neatly tucked in your cunt was holding your torso up, keeping you from falling onto the dirty, public police station floors.

As you caught your breath, you ran your fingers through your hair, trying to compose yourself. It didn’t help with the fact that you saw James’ sucking your remaining juices off of his fingers out of the corner of your eye. You shuddered, your arousal coming back.

“Wow, I’m going to need you to do that ag-”

You were cut off though, by a sound from outside the door. In an instant, James had his hand wrapped around your mouth so you wouldn’t make a sound, as you listened to the police officers that had conveniently stopped right in front of the cupboard you were both in.

“Autopsy report came back. Stab wounds all over the poor bugger’s chest. Died a slow death, apparently. Killer must’ve been some sick sadist.”

Another officer spoke, her voice softer than the other. “My heart goes out to the family. I would never want that to happen to my child. Poor Walburga. The Black kid deserved a better way to go.”

Your breath hitched. Was Sirius dead? You knew Sirius to be James’ best friend and you couldn’t imagine how he must’ve been feeling. James had been brave though, not shedding a single tear since stumbling across the body, something that definitely shocked you now hearing that it was his best friend. Or…

“Poor Regulus was on track for doing great things.” Oh, it was Regulus. From beside you, you felt James reach for your hand, squeezing tightly.

You now knew who had been killed, and for some reason, that felt worse than not knowing.

#timezone reblog

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