#and EVERY time. it's fucking bullshit. every time it's them bending the truth to make themself look better at someone else's expense lol

[honeynviscera]

cannot stop thinking about an exchange i had with two of my roommates. 

i mentioned this in the tags of another post on my other blog and now i’m thinking about it again and honestly, now that time has past i’m like, yeah, that’s insane lmao

basically my roommate who makes a point of presenting themselves as being like The Most sexually experienced person in the household said that tgirl cock is nice bc the estrogen. and yes, estrogen does make skin softer and a little nicer. it does drastically effect the consistency of cum. but their ultimate point was that dick and balls are inherently and inextricably bad and stinky lmao. they said that shit about estrogen and i was like “mmm.... well... in some ways, yes that’s true, but... not really?” like my ex’s junk was bomb bc she kept up with her personal hygiene like nothing i’ve ever seen lol. and ofc they just talked over me (like they always do lol)

i just can’t help but think like - surely they’ve not had the experience they claim to have accumulated, because if they had, they would know that hormones nor biology have anything to do with the pleasantry of a persons genitals. it’s all about personal hygiene. like if you don’t brush your tongue, even if you brush your teeth, your breath is gonna be bad yk. doesn’t what you have, it’s what you do with it. i’ve gone down on ciswomen who’s junk stank lol like bro shut the fuck up, your immaturity and prejudice is showing lol. 

but to be honest, I’ve caught them in so many lies - both big and small - at this point I’m not really surprised. well, not by their behavior, but I am surprised by their ignorance. like there’s nothing wrong with not knowing and there’s nothing wrong with being inexperienced. but there IS something wrong with perpetuating bad generalizations that are the foundation for some of the most hateful ideology in existence towards trans women and cis men - literally hating phalluses and thinking they’re inferior and inherently bad and gross IS terf rhetoric lol. fucking stupid. 

but like... mostly???? I just am reeling so fucking hard because it was such a stupid statement, and for such a stupid argument! like WRONG. next 

dick and balls good bro, poor hygiene bad. i feel bad for you. idiot 

#honestly just tired of veiled terf rhetoric lollllll #like even if and when people don't realize that their views are terf rhetoric like.... ok. now say something true and beautiful. #like nice dichotomy what lies outside it lol #it's giving horror and shock and also befuddlement #dick and balls good. btw. if your even care. #but tbh this person has given me ENDLESS ammo to publicly humiliate them if they ever overstep to the point it's necessary. which #unfortunately i can see being a strong possibility. #they also must just think i'm stupid as fuck lol because i'm tight as fuck with their ex who is really mature and responsible and proactive #and every time this person talks shit i go to my friend and i'm like. hey #they said such and such. how true is it lol #and EVERY time. it's fucking bullshit. every time it's them bending the truth to make themself look better at someone else's expense lol #any wayyyyyyyyyy #yeah dick and balls good and if you can't understand that its sad and i feel bad for u but w/e i'll enjoy it for u

[blueicequeen19]

Broken Toy

Warnings: non-con, Dark JJ, oral, overstimulation, orgasm denial, reader got JJ fired, unprotected sex

I yank her into my bedroom, slamming the door shut and shove her against the dresser. The noise of the party is muffled but I can still feel the thump of the bass letting me know if she screams, no one will hear her. Her big doe eyes glare up at me defiantly as I crowd her space but I can see the way she’s trembling. I know she’s scared.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I growl, caging her against the door with an arm on either side. I hate how good she looks. I’ve never seen her with a speck of makeup on and I can’t be the only guy that’s noticed her tonight. She’d cause a fucking wreck.

“I was invited. If I’d known it was your place, I wouldn’t have come.” She tries to keep her voice firm but she fails. I don’t buy her bullshit. This girl is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. A snake in the grass, waiting to strike. She hides behind fake innocence and her manners but I know the truth. I plan to make her life fucking miserable for what she did.

“You don’t belong here.” I snap, letting my gaze openly descend her body in the tight little dress she showed up in. I can tell she’s not wearing a bra and it makes me wonder what kind of panties she’s wearing under something so tight.

“Then let me leave.” She pleads, her cheeks red with embarrassment.

“Where’s the fun in that?” I lean in until I can smell her sweet scent mixed with her shampoo. I bite back a groan and resist the urge to kiss her neck. I love that I can see her pulse racing. That she’s breathing so quickly, trying to catch her breath.

“JJ, please just—.”

“Tell me you love sucking cock.” I demand in her ear, loving the way her body stiffens. Goosebumps appear along her bare shoulder.

“I’ve never—.”

“Say. It.”

“I love sucking cock.” Those words mixed with her breathy whimper have my cock hardening in my sweats.

“Now say, fill me with your cum JJ.”

She swallows. “Fill me with your cum JJ.”

“Say, you own all my holes.”

“You own all my h-holes.” She sniffles and this time I can’t stop myself from kissing just below her ear, pressing my cock against her so she feels how hard I am just from her words. I don’t care if I made her say them.

“You don’t talk or even look at another dude until I say so.” My free hand finds her throat so I can grant myself easier access to her neck. She whimpers, her body rigid against mine as I leave sloppy wet kisses.

The thought of marking her makes me feral. I want every guy on the island to know she belongs to me. I don’t realize how hard I’ve bitten down until her nails bite into my chest where she’s pushing against me. One of her tears lands on my cheek and I smile as I release her flesh and trail my tongue up the side of her face.

She makes a frustrated noise, her eyes narrowing into slits as I step back. When she notices the bulge in my sweats, her eyes nearly bug out and she flushes a deep shade of pink. But not as dark as the huge hickey on her neck.

“Take your panties off.”

“No.”

My eyes widen for a moment before I take a step forward and she quickly shoves her hands under the skin tight material. She struggles but I watch in fascination as her dress moves higher and higher with her attempts until just when I think I’ll see the triangle covering her pussy, she bends to shove them down her legs and leaves them on her ankles as she works her dress back down her thighs.

“Don’t move.” I instruct just as she makes a move for the panties. She freezes before putting her back against the door, eyes wide as she watches me kneel in front of her. I carefully lift each of her high heels so I can free her panties. My plan was to humiliate her but now I’m losing it. I look up at her as I bring her cute little pink panties to my nose and sniff, making me groan from her scent alone. I don’t miss the wet spot either. She gasps, quickly looking away in humiliation but I grab her leg roughly in warning.

“Don’t look away from me again.” I growl, her wide eyes quickly finding mine again. I’ve never been more turned on in my life. I don’t even recognize myself.

I shove her panties in my pocket and quickly lean forward, burying my face in her dress just over her pussy. She whimpers, attempting to pull her hips back but it’s no use. I shove her dress up over her hips the best I can and nearly cum in my pants from the site of her shaved pussy slick with arousal. She’s glistening and I can’t stand it. I don’t know if I want more or less. Do I love it or hate it that she’s so turned on?

“Have you ever had anyone done here?” I ask, looking up at her trembling form. She shakes her head, keeping her pleading eyes on me.

“Good.” I lean forward but she bucks in fear. I slap her thighs hard, making her cry out as I push her legs open a little wider.

“If you move I’ll bite.” I hold her terrified gaze so she knows I’m serious before I dive in. Her scent and taste overwhelms me immediately. A soft sob escapes her as I lick and suck and pry her with my tongue. I use my hands to spread her lips and easily find her swollen clit. I suck it into my mouth and she mewls, her knees threatening to buckle as I suck harder and harder.

I resist the urge to make her cum. The urge to hear her cries and moans. The urge to hear her scream my name. I have to remind myself that this isn’t for her pleasure. It’s for me. So I back off her clit and lick everywhere but there. When her breathing comes quicker and needier, I move to a different spot. I tease her until her arousal drips down her thighs and my chin. Until her knees are fucking shaking and I know she’s moments away from fisting my hair and shoving my head where she needs.

It takes every ounce of my strength to pull back and meet her gaze. Her eyes are hooded, lips parted, and her cheeks are flushed. She’s fucking delicious.

“You don’t get to cum.” I don’t wipe my mouth as I slowly get to my feet and she seems to sag against the door in defeat. When my hand shoots out to fist the back of her hair, the lust is quickly replaced with fear as I yank her forward and smash my mouth over hers. She’s too stunned to put up much of a fight as I make her taste herself. Taste her desperation and need on my tongue. I devour her until she’s putty in my hands and leaning into me. When she moans, I pull back with a snarl. I don’t want her to see how much I want this. I don’t want her to get any sort of pleasure from this. This is me owning her.

“Your turn.” She blinks at me until I put a hand on each of her shoulders and force her down.

“JJ, please—.” Her begging has my cock pulsing in my sweats and I know she can see it by the way the whites of her eyes are showing.

“Save your begging for when I’m balls deep inside your sweet pussy. Now take it out.” I grind out my words, moving my hand to her hair to guide her movements.

“All this over a job?” She spats, shooting me a defiant look as she tentatively reaches for the waistband of my sweats. Her fingers brush over my skin as she peels the material down and I can’t help but shudder.

“I warned you.” I snap, intrigued with her delicate movements. I’m not wearing any boxers so when her hand slides inside the material and immediately meets my cock, she gasps, shooting me a surprised look.

“You’re not wearing boxers and you have a house full of people?” She scoffs, her voice soft as she wraps her hand around my cock and pulls it free.

“Easy access for when I’m getting my dick sucked.” I taunt, her lip rolling in disgust. “Now put it in your mouth.”

“No.” She removes her hand. I step forward, pinning her against the door with my legs. She glares at me, my cock in her face.

“Either it goes in your mouth or it goes in your ass.” My threat hangs in the air for a moment before you wraps her lips around the weeping tip, making my knees weak as I brace myself against the door. I try not to make any sounds but I can’t stop them as she works just the tip until she’s more comfortable to take more. I’m barely half way in and she’s gagging, backing off only to try again.

“Suck harder.” I rasp, unable to tear my eyes away as she moves back and forth, hallowing out her cheeks until I can hear the suction. My balls tighten and sparks shoot up my spine as she sucks. I don’t want this to be over yet so I shove her off with a growl and yank her to her feet.

“What—.” I pull her into the attached bathroom and slam the door before making her bend over the vanity.

“You want to make it up to me? You want all to be forgiven and go back to the way it was?” I demand, our eyes locked in the mirror.

“Y-yes.”

“Then pull your dress back up and spread your legs.” I’m shaking with need, hanging on to the last bit of restraint I have left.

“You promise?” She whispers, already tugging her dress up then widening her stance as she sniffles. Her makeup is running but I don’t think she’s ever looked more beautiful. I love that she looks like that because of me.

“Yes. Arch your back. Stick your ass out.” I push down on her back and she juts her ass out as I step up behind her. I palm her bare ass, my cock leaking precum all over the pretty flesh.

“Are you going to wear a condom?” She whispers.

“What do you think?” I snap, guiding the head to her wet entrance.

“I-I’m not on anything. I’m a virgin.” I suspected that but having her confirm it only lights my blood on fire more. I’m the first to have her. She’s mine.

“Then you better hope I pull out in time.” Her eyes widen and I thrust in, tearing through her hymen in one go and making her scream out. She’s so wet that there’s very little resistance but I feel it when her opening finally gives. My eyes nearly roll into the back of my skulls as her tight, wet, heat washes over me all the way down to my toes. I give her a moment to adjust, until she lifts her head and looks at me through the mirror.

“Pull your dress down. I want to see your tits while I fuck you.” I pull her upright by her hair and she whimpers, tightening around my cock and making me groan as she quickly frees her tits. I reach around to palm one, rolling the hardened bud between my fingers until she’s mewling and backing up against me.

“You’re so goddamn tight I can barely breathe.” I growl into her hair as I slide my hand up to squeeze her throat. Her hands find my waist as I slowly pull out half way then thrust back in. We both moan.

“Tell me it feels good.” I whisper, my lips grazing her ear as I give another short thrust.

“It does. It feels good.” Her breathy voice has me thrusting in harder and her sounds turn to pained whimpers, her nails digging in my hips.

“My good little broke toy.” I turn her head and kiss her hard, fucking her mouth with my tongue while I fuck her pussy with my cock. Her inner walls begin to quake and I know she’s close. Her lips wrap around my tongue, sucking it like she did my cock and I nearly lose it.

When I finally jerk away from her mouth she moans loudly against my lips, her eyes closed as she lets the pleasure wash over her. I hate that I like kissing her. I hate that I love the sounds she’s making.

I yank out with growl, noting the blood on my cock as I open the shower door and turn on the sprayer. I grab her arm and haul her in with me. She doesn’t protest as I shut the door and the hot water rains down on us. Her dress is bunched up around her waist, leaving her pussy and tits free, her heels on the bathroom floor, and her makeup now running down her face as her hair sticks to her.

She looks different now that I’ve been inside her. Like she’s no longer afraid and wants more of me.

“Legs together. Wrap your arms around my neck.” I instruct, pressing my body to hers as I guide my cock between her thighs. Her arms wrap tightly around my neck as we both watch my cock slide between her thighs. I bend my knees as I find her entrance and when I do, I thrust upwards and she cries out, her head falling back against the shower wall.

“Oh— god—.” She moans, pushing her tits against my chest as her back bows off the wall.

I don’t hold back as I fuck her hard and fast, resisting the urge to kiss her again or to lick up the water droplets running down her face. I want to taste her everywhere. I want to be inside her everywhere although I can’t get any closer. I brace one arm next to her head and grab her bouncing tit with my free hand, twisting her nipple.

She moans loudly, her hands fisting my hair as I fuck her way harder than any virgin should be fucked the first time. The sound of skin slapping skin increases along with her moans and whimpers.

“JJ!” My movements falter when she cums hard and suddenly, erupting from her so powerfully that she sucks in a breath to scream until I clamp my hand over her mouth. She shakes uncontrollably, her eyes rolling back as her pussy chokes the life out of me.

“Fucking shit.” I bite out, unable to hold mine back anymore as I step back and fist my cock. I only have to stroke it once and spurts of cum meet her tits, stomach, and mound. I love it.

We’re both panting for air and the water is starting to get cold but all I can think about is how I want to do that again. Only this time I want to fuck her in my bed until she screams my name, her nails leaving marks down my back.

She’s blinking at me, her eyes dazed with lust as she waits for my next move. I’m suddenly wishing she’d fought me more. But that just means that she gave in and trapped me in her web. I didn’t win. She did.

“Get out.”

“B-but—I don’t have any clothes!”

“Not my problem.”

#smutwarning #outer banks smut #jj maybank smut #obx2 #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #rudy pankow #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #jj obx #outer banks x reader #tw dark content #blueicequeen19 #dark!fic #outer banks fanfiction #tw unprotected sex #jj maybank #dark content #dark JJ Maybank

[pervysenpaix]

… can we consider my debts cleared since you reminded me of the fact it’s criminal we don’t talk about Monoma enough?

Incel! Monoma who’s collects all your pictures from anywhere he can find them and prints them all out, of course it’s just so he can imagine your stupid face and how utterly pathetic you look covered in cum.

Incel! Monoma who makes snide remarks about your hero suit and the way it fits so tight around your ass and tits and calls you a dumb whore for thinking he was looking because he wanted to, you put everything on display people are gonna look. Isn’t that what you wanted?

Incel! Monoma who only gets worse if you happen to be a virgin, it’s his right to deflower you. He deserves it for putting up with your bullshit games. Making him think you were completely worthless for what exactly? At least now you have some value

@mhathotfic no, no while i disagree that your debt is clear, (because let’s be real bully!kirishima will forever live in my head rentfree) you’ve certainly made progress with this thot because it’s an absolutely travesty that we don’t recognize Monoma for the utter chauvinistic piece of filth that he is!

Incel!Monoma who makes a burner account to follow your insta because he wouldn’t want to accidentally like a picture and have you under the impression that he found you even remotely attractive.

Incel!Monoma that sneaks shots of your pretty panties peaking from your too short skirt while you’re walking up the stairs or bending over. There’s literally nothing wrong with him taking a picture, you obviously wanted to be seen.

Incel!Monoma who claims that you look disgusting in the form fitting material of your hero suit but his pants get tight with each swish of your full hips. It’s only because you keep bouncing around like a whore, it’s a completely natural reaction; not like he’d actually want to fuck someone like you.

Incel!Monoma that corners you in the elevator and calls you a “cock hungry slut” or a “pathetic pass around”. Tells you that he’d never risk putting his dick in your dirty twat because it might fall off. His face is so close to yours—so close that his lips brush yours with every word. You ask if he’s blushing but he says of course not he’s probably just coming down with something from being in your diseased presence for so long.

Incel!Monoma literally chokes on air when fat tears spill down your cheek and you deny his claims. Screaming that you’re a virgin and he’s just a dumb jerk.

Incel!Monoma who pushes you against the wall , one hand on your waist while the other holds your wrists above your head. He demands for you to tell him the truth—admit that you’re the whore that you present yourself to be.

Incel!Monoma nearly cums in his pants when you repeat yourself and whine his name, begging him to please let you go. How could he let you go at this point ? He’d just found out that you weren’t as disgusting as he initially thought but it was only a matter of time before one of those class A idiots get their hands on you.

Incel!Monoma crashes his lips into yours—feverishly attacking your mouth with such fervor that you gasp, allowing him to lick his tongue against yours, wrestling it into submission.

Incel!Monoma is somewhat surprised when you moan into the kiss, you’d never showed much interest in him aside from when he was openly insulting you and now here you are sucking on his tongue and runny your fat pussy against his knee and leaving a damp spot on his pants.

Incel!Monoma wants more. Wants to lay his claim and break you in before anyone had the chance to swoop in and steal you. He’s so desperate to be in your cunt that his legs are starting shake, and just when he’s about to pull your panties to the side the elevator stops.

Incel!Monoma is able to pull away just in time for the doors to open and reveal that cursed trio from 3A. He scoffs on his way out, shoulder checking the green haired one and shooting you a glare before the doors close.

Incel!Monoma definitely has some plans for you but that’s gonna have to wait for later. For now he’s gonna have rub one out while sniffing the dampness you left on his slacks.

#monoma x reader #neito monoma #monoma smut #mha monoma #thirsty senpai #let’s chat

[short-skirt-longjackett]

Renewal Isn’t a Lie Anymore pt. 8

(I’ve had this idea for a while now and I’m acting on it 👀👀)

-Edward Nashton x gn! reader

-warnings: nsfw, masturbating, recorded sex, blowjob, unprotected sex, facial

Bruce spent the next few days away in his cave, seeing articles such as, “Bruce Wayne cheats on Y/n Wayne!” or “The Wayne Marriage and how it ended so quickly.”

He felt absolutely horrible, you were all over the news but no word from you. Bruce knew he fucked up and put your name on the line. The public was on your side, but it seems the rich men was on Bruce’s side. These men cheated on their wives all the time, now he’s just like them.

Bruce kept himself busy by working out, going out to see who the Riddler was, and be there at crime scenes to “help”. Bruce was in his cave, re watching last night’s events as he always does…But he does miss when you would come down and bring him to bed.

He kept himself busy as he heard a ping from his one computer, he pulled up his email to see he was sent a video from a unknown email address. He knew this could’ve meant one or two things. Someone was sending him a bullshit email or..the person he’s been after.

He hesitated before clicking on the email, his big screen now black was shortly cut to ‘the Riddler’ sitting there in front of a green sheet with a white question mark.

“Bruce....Wayne.. We meet again Bruce. Now I take it you saw the news where I showed everyone the truth about Bruce Wayne, but not the full truth,” he laughed, “I know you are the batman, Bruce. I pin pointed all the dots together…I solved this riddle.”

How does he know? What did he do to give it away....fuck what about Y/n? Are they okay? Though he knows Y/n couldn’t care about Bruce’s worries, he still loves them them...

“Now, now, Bruce. I won’t tell everyone just yet, I have to make a big surprise. Soon everyone will know the masked vigilante named Batman...and for you to keep your sanity, just know Y/n Wayne is in very good hands.”  he chuckled lowly. The hell did this sociopath mean by that?

The video cut to show Y/n sucking on what can on be the Riddler’s dick. He kept pushing their head down, his gloved hand gripping your hair, “Fuck....you’re doing amazing angel. Keep taking it..show Bruce how much you enjoy my cock instead of his..” the masked man groaned, his mask muffling his voice. Bruce watched you oblige, he didn’t know if the Riddler kidnapped you...or you went out to find him.

But seeing you act so obedient turned him on...He knew he shouldn’t feel this way, you’re his after all, but this was hot. He felt a twitch in his pants but ignored it.

You looked up at the camera, smiling almost while sucking the mystery man off. You kept making eye contact as you took him in all the way. The masked man groaned, his grip tightening on your hair. He kept you in that spot till you pulled away, saliva dripping from your mouth, your spit connecting from you mouth to his cock.

Bruce felt his hand slip down to his pants, palming himself through the fabric. As he watched you bob your head up and down again, he pulled himself out of his pants, his hand matching to your head movements. You pulled your head away, your hand wrapping around his shaft as you caught your breath, “Come on angel, tell me you love it..” he groaned as you smiled up at him, “I love it..I love taking it down my throat..” you moaned, going back to sucking. 

Bruce always loved to see you submissive, taking every order he gave you, now he’s enjoying watching you be obedient to another man. He watched as the gloved man lightly push your head off, “Look at you, you’re so beautiful always... but now with all your saliva on my cock and dripping out of your mouth...you look perfect..” he held your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb, as you smiled, giggling as his praise.

The video soon cut abruptly to him bending you over, smacking your ass as you yelp, “Such a perfect body...It’s all mine now...” he said lowly, smacking your ass again. He showed himself stroking his cock before slipping it into you. Bruce stroked himself fast with the pace the Riddler was moving at. 

“Fuck..! You feel so good, please go faster..” you moaned, his gloved hand gripped your waist, fucking you faster. The camera was a bit shaky since he was thrusting into you, but that didn’t matter. Bruce just wanted to get off to you being fucked, you always looked perfect when you did.

He thrusted fast into you, huffing as you moaned loudly. He slapped your ass again, “Take it angel...Show that fucker, Bruce you loved being fucked by me..” he said, pulling your hair to look back at the camera. Your face was pure ecstasy, looking so fucked out. “Tell the camera how much of a slut you are for my cock, angel.” he stated, the words grating through his teeth. “I-I’m a slut for the Riddler’s cock!.. I am! I love it sooo much!” you moaned, eyes rolling back.

Bruce was so close, his breath was heavy and low. He placed his free hand over his mouth, watching you get fucked roughly. he focused on your face, god you looked so hot.

“I-I’m close..! I’m so close, please let me cum!” you begged, sounding desperate. “Okay angel, cum from my cock..do it, now..!” he commanded, thrusting harder. You cried out as Bruce finished, cumming over his desk.

The video cut abruptly again, seeing the glove stroke himself into your mouth, “Fuck…Good angel..” he groaned, cumming into your mouth. Bruce felt drained but it was so hot to see cum all over your face and your mouth.

He switched the camera around to show the the Riddler with foggy glasses, “Well then, I’ll leave you with that Bruce..Get cucked, asshole.” he said before the video ended.

Bruce couldn’t believe he just got off to someone else fucking his partner…Even though he did enjoy it…

Did he just say “get cucked” too?

#danonation #paul dano #edward nashton x reader #the batman 2022 #edward nashton #riddler x reader #the riddler x reader #the riddler #edward nashton smut #edward nashton x gn reader

[wri0thesley]

can i request arranged marriage with toji and corruption please 🥰

wedding rings - toji x fem!reader (5k)

the zenin clan just can't stop meddling in toji's affairs. what's he supposed to do with the nervous little virgin who shows up on his doorstep and says that her family and his have said they have to get married? not fuck her?

warnings: not sfw/minors dni. arranged marriage. corruption kink. virgin reader. light cunnilingus, fingering, coming inside. light dub-con by nature of 'arranged marriage'. afab reader, fem pronouns.

[a/n: writing toji is always so much fun ;_; ]

When you showed up at Toji’s door with suitcase in hand, trembling lip and eyes all wide and frightened, he had laughed outright.

It was just like the fucking Zenin clan to be meddling in his life even now, wasn’t it? Even though Toji has abandoned them and slaughtered their ilk, their bullshit about bloodlines still leaks into every facet of what they do; and clearly the idea that Toji, even with his flawed lack of cursed energy, might be able to pass on the technique and hasn’t got a pretty little wife to impregnate yet had rankled them so badly that they’d sorted the whole situation out for him.

If he didn’t hate jujutsu society so much, he’d almost feel bad for you.

You’re clearly in the bloom of life; fresh-faced and innocent, not expecting to find yourself in Toji’s messy shithole of an apartment (why bother making it nice, when he spends so long out of it for work?). He wonders who you’ve pissed off to end up here.

As it turns out, you end up telling him yourself, a frown on your face.

Turns out, you’re . . . not quite just like him, but you’ve been fucked over by your clan just as much for not being able to be useful. You can see cursed spirits, but you’ve got no cursed energy, no technique – despite your clan usually producing good, dutiful, powerful wives. Disappointment of the family. He can understand what that feels like.

So they were probably glad to get rid of you. Might even hope you’ll bear Toji’s kid and it’ll have no technique to speak of itself, too – so both families can forget about you.

(Well, Toji thinks to himself with a grin – his family can’t forget about him, much as they want to, considering both his nickname and his line of work.)

He takes a sip of the glass of water he’s holding in his hand, green eyes focused very hard on you. You’re not in traditional clothing, like most clan members he knows would be; you’re wearing a pale blue dress that you keep tugging uncomfortably down over your thighs. Toji lets his eyes linger on your thighs, too – he might as well appreciate the view, he supposes.

Your suitcase is full of, as well as a collection of clothes in modest cut and soft, pastel colours, documents. Toji flips through some of them, nose wrinkling at the boring jargon. He does linger on a caveat about if you bear him children, they all have to take the Zenin name, and Toji and you will be ‘compensated handsomely’ for handing over the kid’s education and raising to the clan--

Bullshit.

Toji’s about to crumple them up on the floor and tell you to get the fuck out of his house, when he catches sight of you over the edge of the paper. You’ve drawn yourself in; shoulders tight, pretty mouth pressed into a tight line, eyes shining with a mixture between hope and fear. You look so lost. You look so innocent.

A little curl of heat makes itself known in the very base of Toji’s stomach; the thought of you being a good little wife, on your knees. The thought of him telling you exactly how to suck his cock.

He knows how the sorcerer clans raise women like you.

He knows you’ll be eager to please and obedient, falling over yourself to keep your man happy. He knows, too, that you’ll be pliant and agreeable – and that you’ll be pure as the driven snow. That thought gives him pause.

You’re seductive to him without realising it, in the totally guileless way you act, as if you don’t know that he’s considering how your tits would fill his hands and how tight your precious, untouched cunt would feel around his girth.

If he rejects you, what will your clan do?

You’re as fucked as him. He can see it in the shine of your eyes in his kitchen; you’re afraid he will throw you out, like he was thinking of. Leave you to fend for yourself on the streets of Japan, because there’s no way your family will want you back after even scum like Toji’s rejected you.

Would it be so bad?

He lets himself look at you critically. He takes in the curves, the dips, the contours of your body; the way you’d feel beneath him. Your face, and what it would look like lost in pleasure.

Perhaps it would be pleasant, to have someone to return to after a hit; to have someone warm his bed, curl around him, cook for him and take care of him. Perhaps it would be pleasant to take a pretty little virgin and break her into exactly what he wants in a woman. To teach her how he likes to fuck, how he likes her to act, to condition her until he can crook his finger at her and she’s bending over, presenting herself already slick and needy for his cock to use however he sees fit.

“Alright,” he says, draining the glass. “Sure, sweetheart. We’ll get married.”

Later on that night, he creeps into the spare room. You’re asleep on top of the covers in a cute pyjama set that’s all frills and froth and pale pink; elastic in the shorts digging into the flesh of your thighs, top clinging to the curve of your chest. His cock stirs in his pants looking at you. You’re so . . . innocent. There’s no mark to you; Toji wants to cling to your hips until there are bruises in the shape of his hands, wants to worry love-bites into your neck like a necklace, wants to ruin you until you’re tear-stained and whimpering and arching your hips up for him--

Calloused fingers trail along your skin. You’re so soft. Where Toji is all scars and muscle, your skin is like satin. You moan in your sleep, pretty face furrowing, and Toji wants to see your face creased in pleasure too. Your mouth drops open and he imagines thrusting his cock in it; how pretty and shiny your lips would look wrapped around his shaft, almost too big for you to even take.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, thumb skimming the exposed stomach where your pyjama top has ridden up. “Ripe for the picking, ain’t ya?”

Your eyes twitch. Eyebrows, furrow – and you blink your gaze awake, sticky-slow, to see your fiancee looming over you in the dark.

“What’re you—?” You ask, still sleep-laced, but Toji just makes a soft noise in the back of his throat.

“Just lookin’ at the merchandise, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Wanna make sure you ain’t damaged, that’s all--”

“I—I’m not!” The cute little burst of outrage is ruined somewhat by the yawn that you have to suppress in the middle of it, but Toji grins.

He didn’t think the Zenins would send you if you weren’t – they wouldn’t want to risk the precious possibility of a kid born with power and technique not really being one of theirs – but it’s nice to hear your mouth confirm what he’s been suspecting and hoping is the truth.

“Aw, baby girl,” he says, keeping his voice low and even, trying to comfort you even as his hand is sliding further up, cupping one of your breasts (his palm brushes your nipple and he feels it harden beneath his touch, stiffening to a peak – he wants to see what you look like under there so badly), “C’mon, it’s fine. I ain’t gonna hurt you--”

“M-Mr Zenin,” you say, and the tremble in your voice is so cute. His cock is straining against the boxer shorts he wore to sleep in. You’re wide awake now; your eyes meeting his. “I—I know, but--”

He’s on the bed. He doesn’t miss how your gaze strays to his veined forearms, where the muscles bulge in his biceps, the carefully sculpted and maintained abdomen and pecs – he sees the swallow in your throat, the way your cute little tongue reaches out to swipe nervously over your lower lip.

Thumb brushes your collarbone and you shudder, your eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. He sees your thighs twitch, squeeze together – he’s willing to bet if he dipped his fingers into your slit right now, he’d pull his digits back out with your slick glimmering on them.

“Just call me Toji.”

“T-Toji—” Your voice pitches, shuddering with arousal that you don’t know how to handle. He’s heard that note in women’s voice before; that desperate ‘I want to be touched, but I know I shouldn’t want it’ wobble. He’s been the cause of it more times than he can count.

“S’okay,” he soothes, his other hand rounding over your hip, his knees nudging your legs apart. “You’re savin’ yourself for marriage, yeah? We’ll get the papers signed in the mornin’, I promise, botha our families are the kind to make sure things can be rushed through quick--”

“I—” You’re a little breathless, all needy and hot under his touch. It’s adorable. “I shouldn’t, please, it’s only a few days--”

“You want to.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement, as he curls his fingers about your hip, as he settles his own muscular thighs between yours and he sees that there’s a damp spot on the pale pink shorts. Soaked through your underwear and your nightwear? He forgot how sensitive virgins can be. “Don’t lie to yourself, angel.”

He leans down, scarred lips brushing yours. You taste like his toothpaste; peppermint on his tongue as he swipes it over your lower lip and you sigh as you allow him entrance. It’s the first mark of him on you, but he knows it won’t be the last. He deliberately presses his knee against your clothed mount, grinding it just a little – and you whimper into his mouth, heated and desperate.

“We’ll be married soon as,” he murmurs to you, pulling back, looking at you with lust darkening his eyes. No man has ever looked at you quite as hungrily as Toji is looking at you right now. And he’s so handsome, his touches gentle-- “You wanna be a good girl for me, right? S’just what a wife does for her husband, yeah?”

“Yes,” you breathe, and Toji grins at you. It’s a feral, starving grin, that you feel deep inside of you as you clench around nothing and burn to be touched.

He kisses you again, hungrier. He nips at your lower lip, his tongue roughly demanding entrance – he dances against your own. You’ve never really understood the idea of kissing with tongues, but Toji knows exactly what he’s doing; hitting a spot on the roof of your mouth that makes you shudder and gasp, your hands coming up to grasp his biceps.

The muscle underneath them is so solid, and Toji can’t help but notice how soft your hands are on him. He knows you’ll be that soft everywhere else, and the thought spurs him on.

“I’m gonna undress you now,” he tells you, thick and throaty. His big fingers curve under the hem of the lacy top you’re wearing, gently tugging it up over your stomach and then your breasts. That sharp green gaze caresses every newly bared inch of you, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Fuckin’ hell. You’re a sight for sore eyes, sweetheart.”

Your skin feels hot under the compliment, Toji’s flat palm sliding along the softness of your tummy to round over your breasts. Your nipples have pebbled and stiffened in the cool air of the spare room, and Toji flicks his thumb along one (making you shiver, again, he notices) before he bends his head to suckle the bud into his mouth, his tongue lapping at it in a way that has your back arching and thighs clenching.

He chuckles at the noise you make as his lips pop off, and he turns his attention to the other side.

“Responsive, ain’t ya?” He asks. “You’re adorable.”

You give him a trembling breath as a response, which he takes as a sign to begin a trail of wet, open mouthed kisses down from your breasts to your stomach, tongue tracing the shape of your navel, teeth grazing your hips so gently that you barely feel them. He takes the waistband of your shorts in his mouth and tugs those down using your teeth, and the vision of him between your legs like that--

“Ha,” he says, as his fingers reach to tug them, expertly manipulating your legs so he can get them off without moving from between them. “Careful there, darlin’. You’re gonna soak right through the sheets.”

His mouth, again – kissing firmly against the wet patch on your underwear, his breath fiery hot. His mouth is solid enough that you feel the jolt that goes through you as his nose pushes against your clit, even through the cotton. Toji almost smirks at how much of a cliché the white cotton underwear trimmed with pale pink lace is, but the scent of you is too heady for him to want to do anything but bury his head between your thighs.

Lower. He kisses all over your slit, hard enough that you jerk, ruing the barrier between you two. His thumb strokes circles into your inner thigh--

He seems content to kiss at you through the fabric – but really, he’s waiting for you to give in. To beg him to take them off. From just how wet his face is even with the barrier in his way, he doesn’t think it will be long – and you do not disappoint. You raise your whips, softly mewling;

“Please, I –”

“Please, what, darlin’?” He asks you. “C’mon, you can use your words – no secrets from your husband, right?”

“I—” You’re so cute, squirming and feeling like a slut for him. He loves it. He loves the tremble of your body and the fact that your eyes are glassy with need. “P-please take my underwear off, I wanna--” You swallow. “W-wanna feel without it--”

“Aww, y’should’ve just said so,” Toji says. Fingers pry beneath the gusset.

He doesn’t bother manipulating your body this time. He simply tugs hard enough to split the seams, the fabric delicate from being saturated in your slick.

(Doesn’t matter, anyway. While he’s home, you won’t be wearing underwear.)

You gasp at the display of strength, swallowing – and Toji grins at you again. Oh, you like that? He’s got more shows of strength where that came from, don’t you worry.

He props up your knees with his hands and says;

“Wrap your hands around these, keep your legs spread for me like a good girl, yeah?”

You nod, shyly averting your gaze as you do just that and the position spreads you open lewdly; your velvet-soft folds bared entirely to Toji’s hungry eyes.

You’re already absolutely dripping, but Toji can see that you’re nervous.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes you, again. He can’t help but notice how small you look; the pearl of your clit nestled between curling soft petals, your pulsing hole. He knows you’ll take him, but . . . fuck, he thinks you’ll be a stretch. Not that that’s a bad thing. “I’m gonna open you up, darlin’, alright?”

“Y-yeah,” your voice is tremulous, soft – and sends a throb right to his cock. It’s been straining against his boxer shorts since the moment he saw you, but your eyes all big and glossy with trust and the vulnerable position you’re in and the knowledge you have never been touched like this are really doing a number on it.

But fuck it, he’s not gonna hurt you more than he has to if he’s really going to keep you around. He gently spreads your plump labia lips even further apart with his fingers, so your clit stands swollen to attention. You shiver under his calloused fingers, as he leans in and a hot wash of breath fans over you.

Toji’s tongue darts out to lap a long, slow stripe from perineum to clit, and though he can’t see your face any more, he hears the way you whimper.

Another. He lets himself soak his face in your slick; lets his tongue get deep between your folds. You taste so good on his tongue; honey-sticky and sugar-sweet. The tip of the wet muscle gently flickers against your clit and your hands are suddenly wrapped in his hair, your chest heaving in sensitive gasps. You keep your legs raised, so he decides to be kind. He eases his lips off of you for a moment to mumble, amused;

“Don’t pull too hard, I’m too young to be losin’ my hair--”

Before he dives back in between your legs, once more licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Your stomach explodes in fireworks, your heart beating so fast you can hear it in your ears. Toji’s mouth and tongue against you is a wet, lascivious noise that at once makes your toes curl in pleasure and cringe in embarrassment. Is it awful and forward of you to be enjoying yourself like this? Your family have always drilled into you that a proper wife isn’t a slut, but still does what her husband wants--

Toji’s not your husband yet, but this is fine, right? To have him eating you out like you’re a desert oasis? His lips lock around your clit and he sucks and your vision whites out for a second, your hands tugging hard at the dark hair in your grip--

And he comes away with a light laugh that still manages to shiver with seduction. His face is shiny with you as he looks at you with eyes half-lidded and still hungry.

“What’d I say, huh?” He teases you. “Angel, I could have fucked you with my tongue all night--” He likes seeing how the crude words make you flinch, nervous but pleased but ashamed all warring within you. Your lips are pushed forward, the moue almost petulant. His voice drops a tone. “Don’t look at me with that cute pout. You don’t know what it does to me.”

If he didn’t still need to stretch you out using his fingers, he’d take a moment to kiss you so you could taste yourself and just how needy you’d been for him on his lips. But he’s still driving a hole through his boxers, so . . . the sooner you’re able to take him, the better.

You’ve gone back to holding your legs apart with your hands. Excellent.

Besides. He hadn’t finished what he was doing, and he thinks it’ll be easier to fuck you if you’ve already come once. Your poor, swollen clit hasn’t had all the attention it deserves. You’re being so cute, so well-behaved for him--

“Relax,” he says, softly, as he eases his fingers from spreading you open, dipping them in the mess he’s made of your slit. “This might sting a bit--”

One finger finds your hole; circles the sensitive entrance, making the muscles in your thighs tremble. But you keep your legs spread open for him like a good girl, and he’s able to gently push his index finger in, first to one knuckle, then to the second, and then to the ones at the base.

“Good girl,” he breathes, barely able to breathe at how tight you feel around him. Your insides are silky and hot and wet, clinging to him like a lifeboat in the sea. He pumps the lone finger in and out of you, rubbing the pad against the inside of your walls until he finds the spot that makes you throw your head back and give him a long, choked moan. “There we go,” he keeps talking to you, softly, like you’re a spooked animal. “’M gonna put the second one in, yeah? You’re takin’ it like a champ, sweetheart. You wanted this, huh?”

You babble something that he doesn’t care enough to listen to but overall sounds positive. This one’s a stretch, his middle finger and index finger even tighter. But he needs to get three in you, he thinks, or you’ll never take his cock. You let go of your thighs, and he sucks in a breath – but your feet clearly need purchase on the bed, your fingers twisting in bedsheets now they can’t twist in his hair, and you breathe through the stretch so he figures it’d be churlish to tell you off for it now.

He keeps hitting that spot as he fucks you slowly on his fingers, until he can feel your cunt sucking him in, pulsing around him.

“Third finger,” he tells you, his own throat dry. “Next time I fuck you with this one, you’ll feel my weddin’ ring--”

You tighten around the other two at that. Cute. Three fingers opening you wide, scissoring inside of you, aches – but you’re being so good for him, the most that’s coming out of your mouth sweet little whines. Toji rewards you by crooking them inside you against that spot, his thumb coming to gently rub circles into your swollen clit.

He’s been teasing you for too long, and you are a virgin – it’s no surprise that the stimulation proves too much for you too quickly, and you arch your back at the same time as fireworks go off inside of you, your cunt fluttering around his fingers, tightening and loosening as waves of euphoria wash over you.

You soak Toji’s fingers with the rush of your release; the gush of liquid.

He whistles, low and impressed. So you’re a squirter, huh? Toji doesn’t mind that at all. It’s not like he’ll be doing the laundry – and it’s kind of hot, to look down at you and see what a mess he’s made of your little virgin cunt--

“That’s it,” he says, guiding you over the last low crests of your orgasm. “I think y’can take me now, sweetheart. Let’s get you comfy--”

He shows off his strength a bit, because he knows it will get you going despite the sensitivity of your body from your recent orgasm. You’re man-handled by him higher on the bed, so your head is on the mountain of pillows you’ve slipped down. He can pick you up as if you weigh nothing at all, despite the creak of the bedsprings clearly saying the opposite.

Your legs are urged to wrap around his hips.

“Don’t worry,” he tells you, again. He doesn’t think he’s ever reassured a fuck as carefully and constantly as he’s reassuring you; but then again, he’s never intended to marry one of his fucks before.

You, though – you’re so adaptable. So untouched. So different from women and men who come onto him at bars and flutter eyelashes and make soft little insinuations. He can corrupt you into exactly what he wants, and the thought of you knowing nothing but his cock forever and serving him like he’s the only man in the world--

It’s enough to make a lesser man come in his pants.

“You’re tired, yeah? I’ll do most of the work. You lie there and take it like the sweetheart you are.”

He’s shucked his underwear off in the man-handling, and now he shifts so that you can see the full glory of what he’s packing. Your eyes widen.

He gets that a lot. Even for a virgin who’s probably never seen a cock before, it’s obvious that Toji’s the real deal – you swallow, nervous, and whisper;

“I—what if it doesn’t fit--?”

(There’s a tremble of fear in there, that you’ve fucked up; that he still might throw you aside if you can’t take him, and now you’ve been utterly ruined.)

“Hey,” he says, all comforting and appeasing, “I ain’t hurt you yet, have I?” You shake your head, but your bottom lip is still trembling. “I’m gonna go slow with you, I promise.” He shifts forward again, the head of his cock catching against your entrance. “Just keep your eyes on me, darlin’. I promise, it’ll feel so good . . . you wanna keep your husband happy, don’t ya? I’ve already got you all stretched and prepped. Just breathe--”

He keeps up the steady stream of talk as he urges his hips forward, your cunt swallowing the head of his cock first before he’s able to push more of his shaft in. You keep your eyes on his, green eyes locked against yours – and though he can hear the shake in your chest, you don’t make any noise louder than a huff when he gets two thirds of the way in. He pauses there for a minute, letting you adjust – he can feel every minute tremble of your body, swears he can hear your heartbeat.

“Good?” He asks, and you nod – and he slides the last third of himself inside you in the same unhurried pace, until he’s settled hot and heavy entirely inside of you.

His eyes map your stomach, pleasure rushing through him at how big he must be inside of you; there’s the lightest shadow on your pelvis, as if he’s big enough to make your stomach bulge. He takes in the sight of you with all nine inches of him buried inside of you; the sore, spread-wide stretch of your cunt around him, the creamy ring of your pleasure where you’re joined.

He can’t fuck you vigorously – he thinks he’d fucking breakyou - but you’re tight enough that he’s getting plenty of stimulation just from keeping his cock in there.

“P-please,” you manage to form, through your swollen lips and your glassy eyes and your dry throat. “W-want you to fuck me, Toji--”

Oh, fucking hell.

You’re perfect.

“I will, sweetheart, don’t you worry,” he instinctively leans down and presses a kiss on your sweat-soaked forehead, flexing his hips so they withdraw the smallest amount. “Just lie there and take it for me--”

You do.

He doesn’t fuck into you with abandon, though he wants to more than he can say; plenty of time for that in the future, as your cunt moulds to his cock and it isn’t such an effort to get it inside of you. Plenty of time for you to learn just how hard he wants to rail you, until you’re covered in his bruises and there are friction burns on your knees – plenty of time for him to show you every depraved thing you make him want to do to you and make sure that you enjoy it.

He fucks you with slow, shallow strokes, taking most of his pleasure from the way you feel around of him; your eyes, your mouth, your heaving chest. You’re hot and tight and wet and grip him perfectly – his fingers digging into your thighs where they’re wrapped around his hips.

He’s been hard for what seems like hours, so it’s no surprise, either, that he feels his orgasm come quickly up on him like a steam train – it’s not like you’re going to shame him for coming quickly, you’ve never even been fucked before. So he lets the heat all gather low in his belly until he can feel himself teetering on the edge – and then, he dips his head and pulls you into a heated kiss as he grinds his hips in a circular motion inside of you and feels himself tip over the precipice.

His cock shudders and judders inside of you, shooting rope after rope of his come deep into your body; thick and hot and full. His teeth worry at your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood, the groan vibrating through you as he comes and pushing you into another short, trembling orgasm as if trying to milk him dry of everything that he can give you.

(You like him coming inside? He can work with that too.)

Your thighs are tight around his hips, your arms draping loosely about his neck as he kisses you. Your tongue nervously probes at the scar; the slightly raised line bisecting his mouth, and though he usually doesn’t like it being noticed or touched (he knows it gives him an air of danger, but sometimes the events surrounding it’s acquirement sting), he finds that with you he doesn’t mind.

With you, his eyes flicker closed and he just enjoys the closeness and warmth of your body, even as he gently pulls his cock out of you (you leak slick onto the bedsheets, again. He’s gonna have to buy some more laundry tablets).

“How’s that, darlin?” He murmurs to you, not moving from his comfortable place on top of you. “Glad y’didn’t save it for marriage now, huh?”

Your cheeks radiating heat is enough answer for him, Toji’s smirk so wide and smug that it threatens to split his face in two. He flops to one side of you, pulling you in, cradling you against him like a little spoon. He can’t help but notice that the curve of your body fits perfectly against his.

The two of you will fit even better in Toji’s bed, he thinks.

“We’ll get all the paperwork and shit sorted tomorrow,” he tells you, as he feels your breathing begin to even out, the tremors from your orgasm begin to fade. He could get used to this too. Someone warming his bed. Someone to cuddle up to on cold nights. Someone soft, to ease the loneliness he hadn’t realised he was feeling.

He doesn’t want to get sappy on you, though. He lowers his face to the shell of your ear, breathing gently, murmuring in a voice that’s still dripping with desire for everything you represent to him;

“The other stuff that goes with a marriage too. I wasn’t kiddin’ about wantin’ to finger you with my wedding ring on, darlin’.”

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji x you #toji fushiguro x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #not sfw #writing #afab reader #fem pronouns #dub con for ts #jjk writing #5555 follower event #jjk posting

[erodasfishtacos]

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

-

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

#cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #Harry styles smut #Harry styles angst #Harry styles au #cheating!Harry blurb #blurb

[kiridarling]

𝐂𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐃𝐞𝐤𝐮, 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐨

𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

→ Okay. Izuku Midoriya? A sadist.

→ And you've been a brat all day, because he's been busy fighting crime as a newly debuted pro hero, and you can't help it if Izuku's new suit fits him a little too well.

→ And of course, the one day he finally has time to take you on a date you two go to the mall, only to be swarmed with thousands of Pro Hero Deku fans buzzing with requests for photo's and autographs and other bullshit and you just want to clobber them in the head and spit the ugly truth in their faces—that at the end of the day, their lovely Deku comes home to you, and sleeps next to you, and the fact that they can steal his attention away from you is absolutely outrageous. Blasphemy.

→ So naturally, you start acting up. You roll your eyes at the next fan who asks you to take the picture and you scoff at the next fan that announces their love. You pile them on, offense after offense, and by the time you get into the car, Izuku's practically vibrating with anger.

"Say one word and I'm bending you over the hood."

→ Oh.

→  Needless to say, you're squirming the whole ride; though you're unsure if it's from his words, the dead silence, or the tight grip Izuku has on your thigh but either way, the trip back home feels painfully long.

→ The second you two get through the door, he's cornering you into the living room and bending you over the arm of the couch without a second thought, big hands yanking your hips back so your ass sticks out just the way he likes it.

"Bratty doll...you wanted my attention that bad, huh?”

→ Izuku exaggerates every other word with a harsh spank that has you whimpering behind a bitten lip. Though eventually, he deems your muffled moans not enough and aggressively yanks your bottoms off,  stuffing his fingers into your mouth.

→ Once they're wet enough, he slides a finger in, (because no matter how angry he is, you’re still his baby). But once you're ready? It's game over.

→ You figured Izuku was going to be a tease about it, but once he sits you on his cock and doesn't move, it has you squirming in confusion. What the hell could he be waiting for?

"Awe, what's the matter, doll? Did you want me to move?"

→ The hold his hands have on your waist is tight enough that you can't even twitch your hips—and the grip only gets tighter the more you wiggle in protest. Izuku tuts, landing a slap to your bruised ass that makes one thing clear: You’re not moving.

→ The green-haired bastard turns on the tv, for fucks sake. And has the audacity to pretend like he's paying attention to whatever's on—because it's not like you're paying attention, too preoccupied with the cock in your guts. You can't squirm because something tells you that'll only lengthen the punishment you've been sentenced to, but by the end of the first episode, it's a little hard not to.

→ Izuku caves the second you start begging. Mostly because it was what he was waiting for, but also he's probably struggling worse than you while he watches you whimper and squirm in his lap.

“Fine, doll. Since you waited so patiently, I guess I can make you feel good.”

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈.

→ 100% your idea

→ And he had absolutely no warning. The Bakusquad decided to hold a movie night in the common room on a random Saturday evening when the dorms were pretty much empty. Katsuki didn't even want to be down there in the first place, but after you winked so prettily and promised he'd get a treat if he came, he didn't grumble nearly as much.

→ But what he didn't know was that you meant right now.

→ Katsuki knew something was up the second you sat in his lap and asked Denki for a blanket—that's rarely your Bakusquad move night cuddle position, plus you're always saying how you never need a blanket because Katsuki runs so warm.

→ And he definitely knew something was up when you started grinding against him, not even ten minutes into whatever shitty action movie Denki and Eijirou convinced the group to watch this time. His hands rush to your hips because if Katsuki Bakugou is anything, he's not a goddamn exhibitionist.

"Oi, the fuck are you doing, dumbass? They're gonna fuckin' see."

→ But as always, you take his words with a grain of salt, already blindly fiddling with the buckle of his belt despite his threats (AKA, I'm gonna fuckin' kill you, you fuckin' heathen). The metal clinks for a second and both of you tense, but it seems no one hears it over the movie, so. You relax.

→ Katsuki does not.

→ You wait for a loud crash from the television speakers and you're sinking down on Katsuki's cock, his teeth tearing into your shoulder as he holds back a moan. Both of you let out a shaky breath when you bottom out.

"W-Well? You gonna fuckin' move or what?"

→ You shake your head.

"No? Fuck."

→ And honestly, all is well until about twenty minutes into the movie. At this point, Katsuki's semi-comatose, eyes half-lidded from the surprisingly peaceful warmth you're both encompassed in. But unfortunately, this peace is disturbed by a rude awakening that comes in the form of none other than Denki Kaminari.

→ All he does is mention how Katsuki looks much too out of it, owing it all to "y/n's juicy caboose," but it has your boyfriend practically rearing on his hind legs in fury either way.

→ In the middle of all the commotion, you take the opportunity to wiggle your hips a bit, rendering the majority of Katsuki's arguments repetitive and ineffective. The bickering blond's shut up once Mina calls for it, and Katsuki returns to whisper-yell threats in your ear again.

"Do you want us to get fuckin' caught? Huh? I ca—fuckin' hell—stop movin’!"

→ But you giggle, having a little too much fun with this. The death grip Katsuki has around your thigh implies he’s closer than you thought, and the moment the action in the movie starts to pick up again, so does the steady roll of your hips.

→ Katsuki practically whimpers into your ear, body shaking with restraint because he lacks the proper space to “put you in your place” or however he wants to put it. You know he’s teetering on the edge when he resorts to something Katsuki Bakugou never does—begging.

“Babe—babe c-c’mon please, I don’t wanna—”

→ Katsuki’s nails dig into your thigh and he shivers as he fills you up, bottom teeth digging into his swollen lip. His quiet moans push you off the edge as well, adding to the mess under the blanket as fake explosions emanate from the tv screen.

→ That was...something.

“I hate you so goddamn much.”

→ You snort, rolling your eyes at his overdramatic ass. But?

“...But that was the hottest sex of my fuckin’ life.”

𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀.

→ You and Hanta definitely do this once a month. At least.

→ Getting high with Hanta as your boyfriend is probably one of your favorite things. He's got snacks, cool LED lights, a monitor that constantly plays animal planet while the speakers play lofi. It's an experience.

→ And of course, you two get horny—though sex is a little hard when you're feeling fuzzy. Hanta's a high-functioning stoner but frankly, you're not, and even he gets a little fumbly when it comes down to it. Cockwarming seemed like the only viable option.

→ Half of the time, it's not even that sexual. Watching otters chase each other with his back pressed up against yours as you bask in a familiar warmth that only comes from true human connection is nice. Feeling his lips place butterfly kisses against the column of your neck is nice. Just...being with Hanta is nice.

→ But tonight? Tonight it's definitely sexual.

"So warm, Princess. You know your body does things to me, don't you?"

→ You didn't, but the way he says it definitely makes you believe him, and so does the way he rubs his hands up and down your sides. Hanta bites into your neck and you stifle a moan, balancing yourself on his knees.

→ You jump when his hand ghosts your inner thigh, and he chuckles when you bite your lip, eyes trained on the hand moving between your legs.

"Like it when I rub you like that, Princess? Like it when I turn you into a messy little puddle in my arms, hmm?"

→ You whine and nod, chest shuddering with the threat of an impending orgasm. Hanta curses behind you, the hand holding you steadily by the waist tightening.

"Shit—keep clenching like that and you might make me cum, Princess."

→ Hanta huffs out a laugh but you can hear the genuine implication behind it, can feel it in the pant of his breath against your neck. The thought of making him cum from something so simple has you hurtling towards your orgasm at an alarming speed, nails digging into his forearm as the weight of your marijuana-laced orgasm hits you like a fucking freight train.

→ Hanta moans breathily, eyebrows knitting as his own orgasm catches him by surprise. His hips twitch and it almost sends you flying off his lap but somehow, you don't go tumbling—though you might owe that to the vice grip Hanta has on your hip.

→ You two come down, basking in the gentle blue of the ocean as the chatter from the Australian narrator about the Humpback whales and their baleen teeth fills the room. You move to get up but Hanta whines, hands keeping you still via your waist.

"Lemme stay inside for a bit...'S warm."

[a/n: thanks for stopping by angel, and let me know who you want to see next <3. see you soon!]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀 #— 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔 #bnha headcanons #bnha smut #bnha fanfiction #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #bakugou x reader #deku x reader #deku headcanons #deku smut #sero headcanons #sero x reader #sero smut

[kohakuarisaka]

Untamed (chapter 1 of 5)

Takami Keigo x (fem!)Reader

[ SUMMARY ] Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, and then again in early spring. He would honker down up north in a secluded cabin. For the first time, he brought you with him.

[ WARNINGS ] R18+ for graphic sexual content and language. Non-canon compliant: Hawks’ quirk does not work like this. Reader is a hero that works at Hawks agency. Pre-existing relationship. Reader is a female with female genitalia. Feral behavior. Rutting. Biting. Spanking. Slight BDSM. Consensual sex. Wing kink. Oral sex. Romantic relationship.

Chapter 1 • Chapter 2 • Chapter 3 • Chapter 4 • Chapter 5

[ My BNHA Fanfic Masterlist ] ~ [ Also on my AO3 ]

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Most people knew that animals were in tune with the changing seasons: migrations, sensing weather patterns, and the likes. Sometimes, that extended to people with animal-like mutations, too. For some, that meant being able to feel approaching rain. For others, that meant bodily changes in relation to the weather.

Every year, without fail, Hawks went into a rut: when autumn began, when cool air swept over and the trees began to turn gold and orange, and then again in early spring, when the snow began to melt, and the sun shined bright in midday, warming the air.

He owned a cabin in the north, secluded up on a hillside in the woods, where he would honker down for the week-long occurrence. It was much more tolerable alone, far from society, where his sensitive feathers could only pick up the sounds of his abode and the wildlife outside.

The cabin smelt like amber and pine trees. He always kept the fireplace stoked. The crackling created a soothing ambiance and it gave him a worthwhile distraction. As opposed to a traditional heater, the fireplace gave him something to focus on: something to worry over so he couldn't drown in his own thoughts.

Without fail, he would go to bed at the kiss of darkness, usually in a mess of blankets and pillows in front of the fireplace, on his front with his wings stretched out beside him. Then, he'd wake in the early morning hours and watch the sunrise as if he had never seen it once in his life.

As poetic as it all sounded, it was more so for the sake of soothing his urges than anything else, to calm the animal side of his brain that was irritated at the very obvious thing missing from this.

But, at the same time, Hawks enjoyed it, in some ways. As stressful as a rut was, there was something soothing about the experiences. For a week, he could let go of everything.

In this cabin, he wasn't pro hero Hawks, winged hero, number 2, or anything like that. In this cabin, he was just Takami Keigo, even less than that at times. When lost to his senses, barely processing a proper thought beyond the warmth of the fire and the smell of the trees, he was just a man.

That time was approaching.

He could feel it, prickling at the base of his wings. His teeth were aching subtly with the desire to bite. Every little sound was setting him on edge. He heard your voice down the hall and it made him flinch with a sort of excitement, as if he hadn't heard you in weeks, when it had only been a day.

He already had an acute sense of smell as it was; but, it was intensified during this time. One of the trainees had burnt coffee and it nearly made him throw up. One of the sidekicks was wearing an ordinary cologne that never bothered him before; but, that morning, when he walked by, the smell made him want to punch them.

When he became irritable like that, was when he knew, especially, that time was dwindling and he needed to leave before it apexed.

"I'm heading out in a couple days," Hawks explained hastily when you stepped into his office. "I'll be gone for a week."

His harsh tone made it sound as if you were intruding on him, and he could tell that you noticed because you halted in the doorway. You were, actually, intruding. He had paperwork he needed to get done before he left. But, that wasn't the only reason.

Your presence swarmed him with thoughts; mainly, that he could bring you with him, show you the cabin. Would you like it? Of course, Hawks knew it was a natural desire to have, considering his physiological changes; but, still, the intensity of that desire was nauseating.

"Oh," you blurted, feeling nervous in his heated gaze. You weren't new to that hypnotizing, gold stare; but, it seemed a little different than usual, more intense.

"Uhm. Okay," you continued. "Was it a mission? I didn't see any briefing?"

Hawks blinked and the heated expression dissipated as if you had slapped it off him.

"No," he replied softly. "No," he added on, a little more sincerely. "I'm... going up north for a week."

He wanted to lie to you; really, any sort of bullshit would have sufficed. You had stumbled into this relationship knowing that he couldn't always give you everything, including the truth. But, for some reason, the truth felt right in this moment.

"That's good," you replied, stepping into his office to set some papers on the corner of his desk, adding more to the already impressive pile.

"You could use a vacation," you added on, stepping back, away from his desk.

It was in his nature to be perceptive, both in the way his quirk operated and by the man he chose to be: a hero, a spy, an assassin. Yet, his eyes were watching you with a sort of intensity that felt fiercer than it normally was.

Your sincerity was what bothered him. It would have been easier to blow you off if you were irritated by his secrecy. However, you, who knew better than anyone, what he endured day in and day out, was just happy that he was getting a break from it all: from being a hero.

Most heroes had a life to go home to, a family, a place where they could take off the cape for a little while. Most of the time, Hawks didn't.

He had found some solace in you. You gave him the breaks he so desperately needed; but, it was never long enough, barely a night, before the visor went back on. It wasn't fair to you, a fellow hero, to be expected to carry such a burden; yet, you seemed happy at the thought of making him feel ease, if only for a little while.

"I'm sorry," Hawks apologized.

The startled look on your face told him what you were thinking: that there was nothing to apologize for.

You didn't know about this side of him, this aspect of his mutation. That behavior sometimes seeped through. He'd get a little possessive, touchy, mouthy; but, you passed them off as just kinks. Maybe, they were kinks, and he was just making excuses for himself.

"It's something I gotta take care," he explained, as if he was rejecting something you hadn't even asked.

"Ok?" you replied softly. "Whatever you need to do, Hawks?"

He smiled one of the most pathetic smiles you had ever seen.

"Is something wrong?" you asked, tilting your head a little, looking down at him, across his desk, to where he sat opposite to where you were standing.

"You don't have to tell me," you continued. "But, you never have to do anything alone, you know?"

"Ugh-" Hawks laughed nervously. "This, I think I do."

You stared back at him with a gentle gaze; yet, he could easily catch the bit of attitude in your eyes, like you wanted to call him out, but was holding back.

Yeah, he knew. He fucking knew. You had been there through some of the hardest battles, dragged him out of burning buildings, took bullets for him.

Your first kiss was in a hospital room.

His broken arm was slung up in a cast and poking painfully into your chest, and the bandages on your neck were itching at his skin. Still, neither complained. Not when you finally, finally had each other. Not when the truth came pouring out and almost a damn year of tension boiled over.

Barely a week had passed since that moment. You didn't give your broken bodies enough time to heal before crawling into bed together. He had made love to you, so softly, with gentle words and careful touches, before flipping you over and ramming you until you saw God, wings flapping and breaking things all over the room.

"It's not a mission, or any hero business," Hawks answered, scratching at his neck nervously.

Now, you were really concerned. 'Hawks' and 'nervous' were not usually uttered in the same sentence. He knew he shouldn't tell you; but, fuck it, he wanted to. It was especially difficult when you were looking at him like that, like you would do anything for him.

"Okay?" you uttered, as if ushering him to continue.

"It's... biological," he answered carefully.

Seemingly catching an unspoken queue, you closed the door to his office and leaned against it, staring at him with a calm, inquisitive gaze.

"My... mutation-" he began, breaking off in a groan.

He leaned back in his chair, dragging a hand across his face. That nervous look etched across his handsome face, was something of a spectacle, and you had to bite back a smile.

"I go into a rut twice a year," he explained hoarsely. "It's more tolerable somewhere secluded; so, I got a place up north where I tough it out."

Some feral, sick part of his brain wanted you to stupidly ask him what that was, so he could explain the insatiable desire to take you like there was no tomorrow. But, of course, you knew better than that, blinked slowly, and leaned back, a thoughtful look on your face.

"You do that alone every year?" you inquired.

"Huh?" Hawks blurted, not expecting that to be your concern.

"Is it better that way?" added on softly.

Hawks stared back at you with a stupid look on his face, eyes wide and lips parted, unblinking with the faintest tinge of pink coloring the tops of his ears.

Fuck no, it's not. He would love to have you there, to show you the home he's made over the years, to snuggle with you in front of the fireplace, to make you breakfast, to bend you over every god damned surface-

"Probably," he answered.

"Hawks," you scolded him gently.

He laughed quietly and adjusted his posture, trying to sit upright instead of slouching back in his chair. He ended up settling for placing his elbows on his desk.

"It's fine," he said reassuringly, waving his hand around. "It's like a posh camping trip."

"A high-strung posh camping trip," you corrected him softly.

Hawks stared back at you silently, as if he was mad that you saw through him so easily. 'High-strung' was a nice way of putting it. His ruts made him mean, irritable to an irrational degree, carelessly crude, and shamelessly possessive.

"Do you want..." you trailed off.

For all Hawks knew, you were going to say something completely different than what he was thinking; but, the mere thought of what you could offer had him at the edge of his seat.

"Would you want me there?" you asked.

Yes. Holy fucking shit, yes.

But, that wasn't what came out of his mouth.

"It's probably not a good idea," he protested softly.

You frowned at him, tilting your head a little, and tightened your arms where they were crossed over your front: a silent gesture telling him that you expected an explanation.

"I don't wanna hurt you," he explained, his normally calm and suave voice lowered. It was clear that this wasn't just caution or worry; this was a warning.

"How would you hurt me?" you dared to ask, voice soft, more so trying to soothe his worries than agitate the beast.

Hawks let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. "I don't know," he breathed. He looked away, and you watched him drag a hand through his hair, pushing wispy blonde bangs out of his face.

"I get really... worked up," Hawks continued, his warning tone still present. "Pissed off and horny and-... shit. Not like normal. I don't think right: it's consuming."

When he turned back to you, and saw that you still looked relaxed, eager to listen, to understand, Hawks' tense shoulders relaxed a little.

"I don't know what I would do to you, and that scares me," he warned in a low, harsh whisper. "The only thing I know is that, if you come with me, after you enter that cabin, I won't let you leave."

"Okay," you uttered back.

"What?" Hawks gawked. "Fucking hell - you realize what I just said, right?" he asked, clearly irritated at your casual response.

"Of course I do," you retorted sharply, snapping at him a little.

He released a sharp exhale through clenched teeth. "I don't think you fucking do," he growled. "I won't let you leave. I'll take you whenever I want. That's - you know what that is."

The word felt so heavy in his mouth, weighing down on his tongue, like he wanted to spit it out. It tasted awful, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.

You, surprisingly, glared at him like he had just insulted you. Maybe he had, in some way. Hawks rarely ever underestimated you; but, this wasn't a battle or heroism. This was raw, animal nature, him and you reduced to instincts.

Through his perspective, it was challenging his humanity, his love for you. But, through your perspective, it was an aspect of his nature, of something he was born with, that he couldn't stop or change; and you wanted to guide him through it, to be there when he needed you, regardless of the feral implications of it all.

"It's not rape if I want you, too," you snarled at him.

The glare he was wearing dissipated in an instant. Hawks gawked at you, stunned at the bold proclamation, his hands slipping limply off the edge of the desk and onto his lap. You watched his wings shutter faintly behind him before relaxing against his back, as if they were resisting the urge to fan out.

"You don't have to do it alone," you began softly.

"You don't-"

"Let me finish," you interrupted him gently.

Hawks obeyed, smacking his mouth shut. You doubted you would ever forget the expression he was wearing in that moment, gold eyes bright and shiny, staring at you almost in disbelief, with some awe and admiration.

"I know I don't have to," you continued. "I'm not offering out of some kind of obligation. I want to - to go through this with you. Hawks, I - I want to get to know this side of you, too."

He was, as you had come to know, a man of many faces. There was the silly, cocky hero he showed the masses, and the calculating, cold assassin he showed villains.

Those few who got close, heroes he trusted, knew he was kind and selfless, always willing to take the front lines, to risk it all. Behind closed doors, you knew he was charming and equally demanding as he was giving.

"If it's what you want, Hawks?" you added on softly.

Hawks blinked slowly. "Yeah," he exhaled heavily, like he had been holding his breath. "Fuck, I do. But, if I hurt you..." He trailed off, leaving the words unspoken, though the implication was obvious enough.

You fumbled nervously against the door, not because you were afraid of what he might do, but because you were surprised by your own emotions, by your lack of worry.

Maybe, it was just unwavering trust for the man who had been by your side for so long. Or, maybe, Hawks had managed to unlock some feral desires inside you that you never knew existed before him.

"Few months back, when you left so suddenly, it was for this, wasn't it? We were together then, but you didn't tell me," you uttered.

Hawks nodded, silently answering your question. It had come on so suddenly that he had no choice but to make a quick getaway, and let the planning fall on the wayside.

He at least made the time to tell you, albeit over a quick phone call, that he would be gone for a week and not to worry. You hadn't pressed him, figuring it was a sudden, unexpected mission.

"When you're in your rut, I - well, what am I to you?" you asked.

Shamelessly, Hawks recalled that he had thought of you, even before you came together. The beautiful woman whom he trusted with every fiber of his being, sometimes his sidekick, always his fellow hero, someone who had been there for him.

"My... mate," he answered quietly, as if he didn't want you to hear him.

Mate... not as eloquent as a lover and with a feral and obvious implication. Maybe, that should have been degrading, disgusting, being reduced to such a thing. But, it felt strangely tantalizing. As lewd as it might have sounded, mates were still equals, partners in love and war.

"You know..." you began, pausing briefly as you approached Hawks' desk.

His gold eyes followed you closely, looking up at you with a sort of softness that didn't quite fit with the conversation. But, if you were being honest with yourself, you liked it that way.

"-partner, lover, friend... You called me your 'personal pain in the ass' once," you said, laughing softly. "I... want to be your mate, too, Keigo."

You were careful about when and where you said his name: it was a sacred secret, something he trusted you with so dearly, so cautiously. But, sometimes, he really needed to hear it, especially when you needed him to know you were serious.

"-if you'll have me?" you added on quietly.

Rather suddenly, one of Hawks' feathers zipped across the room, wrapped around the door handle and flung it open.

You were so distracted by that flying plume that you almost didn't notice Hawks reach for the pile of papers, grab a few off the stack, and angle them at you.

Someone stepped into his office: one of the lawyers, by the look of their expensive suit. As they did, Hawks pulled the papers back and offered you a soft smile as he set them on the pile.

"Thanks. Is this all of them?" he asked, bright and cheery, a forced voice you were quite familiar with.

Somehow, you managed to catch up to him before you did something stupid. "I think so," you replied, matching his bubbly tone.

"Thanks," he chirped. "Oh, and your time off request has been approved, in case you missed the email?" he added on in a flawlessly professional tone.

You stepped away from his desk and carefully walked around the man, who had completely ignored you and was staring down Hawks like a starving, ravenous animal.

"Thanks, Hawks," you replied sweetly.

"Of course. Have fu-!" he cheered as you stepped out, barely cut off as the lawyer slammed the door as soon as you were out of range.

#takami keigo x reader #takami keigo smut #takami keigo x you #takami keigo fanfiction #hawks x reader #hawks smut

[sparetimeimagines]

Hi! Can you pls do Sugar daddy Osamu miya Smut😙💕👻Daddy kink and Osamu being a hard dom thanks! 😊❤️👻(just wanted to use the ghost emoji tbh😪)

Manners | Miya Osamu

Tags; Daddy!Osamu, Dom!Osamu, Sub!Yn, Anal, Cheating, Dd/Lg, Assplay

Masterlist

You were never the one to pay good attention.

To the details? Yes.

To your surroundings? Of course.

To your Daddy threatening to punish you if he catches you with another guy?

Ab-so-luelty not.

A regular Friday night out; Osamu decides he wants to show off his fine baby girl. But there’s only one condition, your attention belongs to him.

You liked to play games with your dom.

He watched you like a hawk, his eyes following your every move, and you were aware of that.

He’d watch with his brother in a booth as you danced in the body of people. Arms crawled around your waist, men desired you, especially because you paid them no attention.

They thought it was a chase, hard to get.

But in reality, your dom was watching, and you wanted to see how far you can get.

So there you were, grinding your hips on anyone who dares come in your radius. Any brave soul who was ballsy enough to make contact with you could handle the wrath of your Daddy.

You felt him watching you, that much was obvious. His beautiful dark eyes followed you, his cock semi-hard from the jealousy he felt seeing you dry fuck these random strangers you’ve never met before.

He liked to watch. Of course. Bring another girl home and he’s all down for it. Whatever makes his Baby Girl happy. That is, as long as it’s not another man’s cock.

The guy hovered over you, his dark hair with the undercut was enough to make Osamu focus.

He’s behind you, those hands on your hips, letting you break your concentration with your boyfriend. He whispers some joke full of perversion in your ear, letting you flush and laugh at his pathetic excuse of a pick up line.

Osamu watches this, his palm flexing into his fist, and he’s not happy about this.

Not at all.

So the intruder invades Osamu’s person space, and to be frank, it’s pissing him off. He wants to walk down there, bend you over his knee, and turn your ass red for being a brat. Because you’re testing him.

He gives you everything you could ever ask for. Those beautiful diamond earrings from the department store. That overpriced handbag with the checkered pattern and engraved logo across the front. That flashy blue sports car you never drive because you’re always at his side.

He wants his baby girl to be happy.

Then why are you receiving neck kisses from this man you never met before? Why aren’t you pushing him off, telling him you have a boyfriend?

You look your dom in the eye for a brief second, before nodding to the stranger, following him out of the club.

Now, this infuriates Osamu. He knows exactly what you’re doing. You want a reaction from him. You want him to get angry so you can tell him he’s overreacting.

“She’s back on her bullshit again.” Osamu sighs.

“Are you going to let her get away with it this time?” His twin turns into him where the younger man shakes his head.

“What do you think?”

Down your hallway past the foyer, you let this man into your home. Your candy trail leads to the bedroom, the absolute place of no man’s land when it comes to another man’s property, and he’s trespassing.

Your bare breasts hang out, those large hands massaging one and sucking on the other. He hovers in between your legs wrapped around his waist.

Not many words are shared, except for the basic “Fuck, you’re so hot” and “you like that don’t you.”

Until he looks up. He had to look up.

One your bedside, you framed a picture of you and Osamu. A selca, your hands cupping his face as you kissed him.

“You have a boyfriend...”

“Oh yeah, but don’t worry about him.” He watches the frame uncertainly as he continues on to your core. Kisses run up and down your hips until he hikes up your dress, leaving nothing but the ring of fabric around your waist.

“No panties.” His brows rise in surprise and you nod.

“My boyfriend doesn’t like them.”

The dark headed man chuckles running his tongue over your slit, inhaling sharply with a moan, having you dangling from the side of the bed.

He leans forward, taking in your juices when he asks another question.

“What else does your boyfriend not like?” He kisses your clit, reaching for his belt buckle.

“Sharing.”

It isn’t you who answers him, but Osamu, who stands in the doorway.

The guy jumps to his feet, hand still on his belt when Osamu stops him.

“No, continue fucking my pet. Please.” He growls unamused while you smirk. The stranger back up, away from Osamu; however he doesn’t let him leave. “No really. Sit down. You’re not leaving.”

He runs a hand through his grey hair and glares at you.

“Do you like bringing men here into my home like some whore?”

He pulls your naked legs into him as you nod.

“Answer me, you fucking brat.”

“Yup.”

“Excuse me?” He grasps the chunks of your hair pulling you into him. “Would you like to correct yourself?” He blinks in disbelief.

The intimidating glare from your dom was enough to make you sweat. You were pushing his buttons lately, but all you wanted was a little attention.

“Yes I do, Daddy.”

The extra man stands to his feet, inching towards the door.

“Stay.” Osamu says without breaking his hold on you. Your eyes flicker to the man held captive, Osamu notices pulling your hair more.

“No way, man, I’m not getting caught up in your games. I’m out.”

He runs past you two out of your house, the door slamming.

“Look what you did, Baby Girl. Causing all this commotion because you’re a selfish brat.” He clicks his tongue, his handle gently cradling your face as though you were made of porcelain. “You ruined that kid’s life.”

A smirk stretches across your lips and he pulls you up to his level.

“Do you think this is funny? Acting like an ungrateful brat? After all I give you? This is how you repay me? By bringing some loser in my bed to fuck you?”

He grips your cheeks with other hand, forcing you to look him in the eye.

“You’re unbelievable.” He drops you onto the bed. His strong hands unbutton his shirt throwing it off to the side. “So tell me. What should your punishment be?”

The smirk resides across your lips; fear building with time along your core. The fear makes you sweat, beads dripping down your back because you know you’re in trouble. You know he’s going to tear you a new one.

But what you also know, is he sees how your pussy is glistening with your slick.

“Spread them.” He slaps the inside of your leg as you’re hesitant. “Now don’t be shy... you had that nobody touching your naked body and you hardly knew him for fifteen minutes.”

He slaps your leg once more, the red burn stinging with his pleasure. “Keep them spread.” Your pussy exposed for his liking, he pulls his phone out, daring you to move them.

“Samu...” you whine feeling the cold air touch your clit.

He types away on the screen, no response beckoning his lips.

“Osamu.” You call for his attention once more, though he continues to type.

“Daddy.”

“What you ungrateful brat?” He tucks his phone away. “Tsumu’s telling me to take it easy on you, Baby Girl. However right now, you’re making it very hard with the way you’re behaving.”

He leans down closer in between your legs blowing cool air across your cunt.

“Don’t touch it.” He warns observing your drying folds. “Tell me, who owns this pussy?” He eyes you from down below, daring you to get the answer wrong.

Those dark orbs watch you with his patience running thin.

“Answer me.” Osamu says with a quick smack across your clit. The yelp from your lips satisfies him into waiting an extra second.

“Y-yours?” You whimper with that smile never fading.

He attacks your cunt once more with a quick snap of his wrist.

“What was that?”

“Daddy’s. It belongs to Daddy.”

“That’s right. It sure does.” He rubs your clit in circles making you relax your hips. “Hey. Open them.” He smacks your thigh. “So if it belong to me, can you tell me why there was someone else in between it?”

You shake you head no and he smacks it without hesitation.

“You liar!” Two powerful smacks has you sobbing from the burn. “Tell the truth.” With each second he has you trembling against his skin.

“Because I’m a bad girl.” Tears threaten to continue leaving streaks.

“That’s right. You’re a bad girl. Do you know what happens when bad girls don’t behave?” He grabs your neck pulling you into him. “Can you tell me what happens, Baby Girl?”

“They-they get punished?” You stutter against his finger tracing your lips.

“They get punished.”

With that, he flips you on the bed, his hands roughly pulling you into him.

One, two, three smacks on opposite sides as he picks the favorite on the left.

“Why do you misbehave? I’m so good to you.” Osamu rubs your reddened cheek with a smack. He runs a hand over your soft exposed cunt. “And you’re dripping.”

He smacks your cunt enough to make you cry out.

“Don’t enjoy yourself too much, Baby Girl. We’re just getting started.”

His fingers trace along your lips red from attention, shoving a finger into your sensitive hole earning a moan.

“Oh does my baby like this? Should I make her cum?” He’s taunting you, and you’re well aware.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Oh now you have manners!” His manic laugh echos throughout the room whilst he removes his finger, replacing your hole with the tight fleshy ring inches upward.

“No, Daddy, not there.” You beg looking back at him.

“And now you’re telling me what to do!” He smacks your already bruising ass, spitting on your hole. “I believe you don’t have a say In what I do. Especially when you’re misbehaving like a brat.”

He shoves his finger into your tight hole causing an outburst from your lips.

“Ow, fuck Daddy.”

“Yeah that tight hole needs to be punished!” He begins to pump into you, making you lose all your will.

Your knees weaken and you’re at a standstill without a thought of your own. This is what you wanted. You wanted all his attention. You wanted to be used by Osamu in unspeakable ways.

Your head falls to the bed as he pulls his finger out.

“Fuck! That tight little hole...” He moans reaching into a drawer. “Why so stiff, Doll Baby?” He smirks while his fingers grasp a metallic jewel, lubing it nicely and reaching down to generously coat your hole. “You see, I don’t think I want that filthy pussy of yours anymore. Who knows who’s been in there?”

Osamu inserts the thick plug into your ass, letting it slide in with a hiss from your lips. Sharp breaths circulate from your mouth and you try to adapt to the new found pressure.

“However that hole... that precious, tight asshole... that’s mine.” He flicks the plug making you jump with a yelp. “Shh shh shh, Baby. We’re just getting started.”

He unbuckles his belt, dress pants becoming loose as he pulls you to your feet.

“You know the rules.” He shoves you to the ground. Your wrists find each other and you offer them to Osamu. “Good girl.”

Taking the belt, he bounds your wrists together, having you kneel together for your submission.

“I’ll show mercy, only because I’m a nice Daddy.” He unzips his pants, dropping his cock onto your hands. “Although, it does seem like you need remission, considering you’ve gone stupid on me and forgot your manners.”

You take his cock in your mouth without your hands, allowing those lips of yours to meet him at the brim of his length. He watches you intensely whilst you keep his eye contact. Tongue circling his length, you listen to his voice thinking out loud.

“Or perhaps, I should get a new Baby.” He remains emotionless watching your eyes grow wide.

“Nnnnmh.” You disagree shaking your head. You take his cock whole, he hitting the back of your throat.

“Oh? Why not? You don’t appreciate me anymore. You bring another man into my bed.”

“Mmmmbegud.” Your muffled promises are hardly audible.

“Hmm? What’s that? You’ll have to speak up.”

As you pull off him to speak, he grips the back of your head shoving his cock deep hitting the back of your throat. His thick cock fills your mouth with his ease, you gagging on him enough to earn a smirk on his lips. “You sound better with my dick in your mouth.”

He pulls out and claps your face twice.

“What’d you say, Baby Girl?”

“I’ll be good, Daddy?”

“Yeah? Be good?”

“Mmhmm. I’ll behave.”

“Prove it. Turn around.”

You climb back on the bed, presenting yourself for him to pull your plug.

“Good girl.”

With your hesitation, he pulls the pink jewel from your stretched hole, replacing it with his cock.

His head much thicker than the plug, he stretches you into full submission.

“Fuck, Baby. That’s my fucking hole. You’re my fucking hole.” He lets out moans, allowing his cock to slide in and out of you still being stretched.

“Nngh .” You cry out from the overstimulation. “Daddy, you’re hurting me.”

“You hurt me, Baby Girl. How do you think that made me feel?” He smacks your ass, thrusting deeper inside your body. Your breath is caught in your throat feeling him take control of you. He pulls your hair forcing your body into an arch, watching him from behind.

Osamu bites his lower lip, thrusting faster to bottom himself into you.

“So full.” You cry as he pulls himself out. Your breath is instantly replenished as he caresses your cheek.

“Aww your hole is so stretched Baby Girl.” He spits in your asshole. “I don’t think anyone will want you now.” He returns his cock to you, bottoming quickly, forcing you off your fours and lying flat in the bed.

Osamu increases his speed pushing your shoulders into the mattress.

“I’m considering giving you another chance, Baby Girl.” He pants, his hand pushing your head down. “You seem to prove you can listen.” You feel his cock begin to twitch inside you. “How- however.” His hot seed begins to fill your hole, he collapsing on top of you, his lips close to yours. “If you ever pull shit like that again, I will leave your sorry ass on the side of the road, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Now what do you say?” He kisses your lips pulling out of you.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” You gasp at the release of pressure.

“And?”

“Thank you for fucking my hole, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now stay here, I’ll be right back with a towel.” He kisses your forehead brushing the hair from your face while untying your hands.

He almost makes it to the door when he turns around.

“Hey.”

You turn your head to him and he leans against the door frame with a soft smile.

“I love you. You were perfect.”

#osamu x reader #miya osamu imagines #osamu miya #Osamu smut #daddy!osamu #dom!osamu #haikyu smut #sub!reader #haikyuu smut

[sideblogformindtrash]

CW: Pet whump; dehumanization; conditioned mindset; classism; some nasty coping mechanism; food whump/forced diet; restrains; 

...Sweet Pea stops banging on the door when it actually hears someone coming. He has been screaming until his voice becomes hoarse, from the second he was shoved in there, alternating between begging and demanding to be let go.

But now that someone is actually coming… He doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to see them, especially not that man. Young Master was bad enough - Stealing him from Master, making him shut down and forcing him in the car… - but that man, that man was worse. There was something wrong about him.

It wasn’t just that he was a peasant, someone who should never have a pet like him, and that was daring to take him from Master, no. That man was off. Sweet Pea pressed his heels on the floor when he was dragged, making the man fight him every step of the way, especially after Young Master stopped at a little sign saying ‘No Farlan Zone’. But that’s when he saw it, as the man frowned as he struggled, revealing a roll of sharp teeth, eyes that are a little just too green, a faint smell he cannot place. Wrong, wrong, wrong, every fiber of his body screams.

...He lost it for a second, and the man made a big progress on pushing him towards the house. He went back to fighting even more - he hated it here, he wanted to go back, how dare these people take him? These fucking peasants, living like a fucking ogre in the middle of a forest… 

Those thoughts kept the fear at bay, a placid, but fragile, surface of anger that kept all of his panic hidden.

Still, the man managed to drag him out inside the house, where he saw someone familiar… He recognized that pet. He did. He saw pictures, the pitch perfect hair, falling in white curls around the freckled face… A good pet, like him, who once belonged to his Master. And what not… if he dug further up on his memory… He could remember him from the school. The prodigy of the musical side. 

He fell limply. These was… where the pets Gerard discarded went to, then? But… Master didn’t say anything about sending him away, and he would, right? Was this… a test? or maybe he just didn’t care enough… after all, it was his son who took him. He would steal from his father, would he?

The pet made some weird gestures, Sweet Pea didn’t understand why. But they meant something to the man dragging him.

“...This is Sweet Pea. He will… stay with us for a while”

The man tries to appear cheerfully, and the pet gestures again.

“...Because he isn’t happy about it. It’s like a sleepover, except he has no choice” He narrows his eyes “No, of course I didn’t know. I would have told you and Blue about it”

...Blue. So there is one more here, and that is pet name. He whimpers, and the man’s grip softens a little, so he takes that chance and pushes him off to run for the door, but it has been locked.

No, no, no, no please, open up... But it was in vain. As the man tried to approach him - with scissors, fucking scirssors - he curled away in fear. He couldn’t let himself be damaged - he was Master’s property, not for anyone to hurt. He didn’t believe it when the man said it was just for the retrains… But he waited until his feet were freed, and he dragged the first thing he could get ahold of, clumsily throwing a chair at him. He didn’t quite hit, since his hands were till tied up, but he got some time to run through the house.

In the living room, he found himself face to face with the other pet - must have been a Mutt of the worst kind, his face awfully scarred. And Sweet Pea screamed, terrified of that happening to him, as well.

He didn’t realize he was led right onto a trap, as he ran upstairs and hid in a closet. He stays there… For a while. When he finally gets the courage to go out again, when the house seems silent and dark… He tries to escape again. But the bedroom door was locked. He noticed some food and water had been left for him. He didn’t dare touch any of the food. It was nothing he was allowed to eat, anyway. He took only some small water sips, afraid it was drugged. 

He didn’t feel anything different, but didn’t want to risk his luck. He tried to sleep in the closet but it was small and cramped, even though it felt safe. He… decided to sleep on the bed. He was a pet, he wasn’t supposed to. But then again, this wasn’t his Master so why should he care?

...He… Stopped near the window. The curtains were open, for once. He didn’t resist peeking outside… 

The stars were beautiful, as always. Even more so here, surrounded by a sea of trees and alway from the city lights that surrounded Master’s house. And they blinked in the distance, carrying the weight of something he had lost and forgotten.

That’s when he finally allowed himself to cry, sobs echoing and getting lost in the silence of the woods. He cried until he felt empty… And almost in peace.

He curled up and on a blanket, not really caring about punishments anymore, and fell asleep.

He woke up to a soft morning light, and a knock on his door. It made him jump awake, grabbing the closest thing he could find - a bedside lamp - to defend himself with. In truth, it was just to appease his anxiety. He wouldn’t dare hit a person, no matter how lowly and filth.

“...Morning, dear” The man said, with a soft smile. Sweet Pea flinched, backing away against the wall. He had another tray, and smiled sadly when he saw Sweet Pea hadn’t touched the other one.

“...I… Want to apologize for yesterday. I was not prepared for this at all… But I guess is no excuse” He says, setting the trail down “...I guess we started on the wrong foot. But I think we should try and talk this through. I’m-”

“Take me back” He demanded, with as much authority as he dared to use, shaking like a leaf as he held the object. If the man was afraid, he didn’t show. He probably looked pathetic like this “Take me back, take me back to Master”

“...I’m sorry, love. We can’t do this now. It’s important-”

“Don’t call me that, don’t call me love” He shouted, and to his surprise... the man… nodded.

“I apologize. A habit I guess, since my boys like it. But I’ll watch out for it” He smiled still, disturbing and creepy and awful and, and, he hated here, hate here.

“Take me back. Take me back, I don’t belong here. I’m Master’s property, please, please”

“...Sweet Pea… I know this is scary… But trust me, we are trying to help you-”

“No, no, no!” He shouts, throwing the lamp away. It breaks on the side, and he regrets it immediately, as now he didn’t have a lamp anymore and there was glass on the floor. A very quick flash passes his mind, a time where he was forced to dance over the broken shards. He pushes it away, under the surface of anger “Shut up, shut up, take me back”

...The man still didn’t seem bothered, but he hated that more. He was being bad, so bad, and the man had that calm, mocking, scary fucking face. He clenched his fists.

“I don’t want to be here” He screams, knowing pets don’t have wants “I’m not going to obey you. I’m not a pet for someone like you. I’m from the best academy, I’ve been trained for years, I’m not going to just bend down a for a simpleton such as you”

...And the man lifted an eyebrow. 

“...That’s… A lot of classism for someone who is technically under me” He seems… disappointed.

...And Sweet Pea gasps, opens his mouth… But what can he possibly say? He is lower than the lowest of men. Yet he is better than the other pets, made to serve men like him. The man shrugged, tilting his head a little.

“Sorry. Don’t worry too much about it. It’s all man-made bullshit anyway. Want to eat something? You must be hungry after yesterday”

He shook his head, crossing his arm and looking away, back at the window. Is good because… Because to him it looks like he is being dismissive. He is actually looking out the window. Sunlight, sunlight. He hopes he isn’t locked away from it.

“Master would never allow me to eat that”

“Well he isn’t here is he?” He doesn’t look, but feels the smile on his voice. No, no good, no good. It 's a test. He knows this game.

“...Are you proposing me to be bad? That’s not gonna happen, I will not fall for your tricks, peasant”

He looks this time, and again, he gets eyebrows raised and a shrug.

“Well… Can you tell me what you can eat? I can try to adapt it for you. Haru is a really good cook, I’m sure he can pull it off”

...This… This made his guard crumble, just a little, as he let his arms down, frowning. Was he… really going to adjust things this easily? It… It should be a test, right? Maybe this was all a test. Master testing him to see if he would remain loyal and good? But… Gerard had never pulled anything like that before. He was usually very clear about his rules. And if it was a test… why would the man give up that easily? Why would he make any change to accomodate a pet?

He bit his lips, he felt blood.

“Hm… Ahnh… Okay” He whispers, going through the list of foods. The man smiles, and sits on the bed beside him. At a space he feels… safe, at least. As safe as you can be on a room with someone you don’t trust.

“...No sugar? Like none? Ever?”

“...He gave me cake!” Sweet Pea smiled proudly “...Once”

The man’s expression is… Sad?

“Well, for now, I’ll get you some fruits so you don’t go hungry. I’ll do what’s possible to follow that… But, just so you know… There is no rule about that, here. You are allowed to eat whatever you want” He then smiles, chuckles “...Well, Blue isn’t allowed coffee. Not that he listens”

Blue. He only saw that pet for a second, staring at him from behind the sofa. The image still haunts him.

“...Is that why he has those scars?” Sweet Pea hugs himself, slightly more confident after… After the man seemed at least willing to respect Master’s Gerard’s decisions a little.

“...No. Blue has a messy past. He was owned by some really cruel people”

“He must have been a really bad pet to end up like that”

...He catches a brief, brief sigh from him, before he puts back the soft expression.

“...Nah. He is a sweetheart. Those were only bad people”

“Bullshit” Sweet Pea whispers, still hugging himself. The man decides to drop that subject.

“Hm, I… I’m not confident about letting you out of the house yet, so… I’ll allow you out of the bedroom when I’m home, but when I’m not, I’ll have to keep you locked for now. I hope that’s fine. Again, just for now” ...The man seems nervous “But it’s a matter of your own safety. Temporary.”

“...Bullshit. Do what you want” he looks away and refuses to answer anything else. He knows he is a prisoner here. He has no intention of even leaving his room, unless it is for escape. At least there is a window.

#pet whump #whump #Sweet Pea the whumpee #orfeu and haru #blue needs a tag #whorefeu

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating Mike Damone

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- Mikes pretty infamous at your school. Pretty much the entire student body knows who he is; mainly because they’ve bought tickets off of him at one point or another.

- Everyone knows Mike and Mike knows everyone so it’s no surprise that you’d encounter him at some point; even if your initial meeting was a memorable half a second of him checking you out while you both walked to your separate classes.

- When Mike first sees you, he honestly doesn’t think twice about you. He sees you, he processes that you’re decent looking, and then he moves on. He only starts to take real notice of you when you seem completely disinterested in his existence.

- That sounds pretty harsh but it’s the truth. Later that day, he sees you at your locker and he approaches you, introducing himself and making his usual charming conversation. And while you’re arguably incredibly polite, you’re just not into him.

- And for some reason that bothers the hell out of him.

- If it were anyone else, it would have never mattered, and he sincerely does not understand why you’re any different. But the more he thinks about it, the more it bothers him and the more he wants you. Which leads to his pursuit of you.

- Mike likes to act like he doesn’t care; he really does, and he’s gotten pretty good at playing the part, so he always seems pretty nonchalant whenever he approaches you and tries to start a conversation; no matter how little time of day you’ll give him.

- But inside, he is losing his mind. His smile always drops whenever you aren’t looking at him and he lays in bed at night thinking about every tiny amount of attention you give him. He wants to hate you, and maybe he does, but more than that …he thinks he loves you.

- Your usual “avoidance” of him leads to him feeling like a kid on Christmas when you finally talk to him on your own accord; though it’s definitely just to try and purchase tickets. He gives you a ridiculously good deal and is on his best behavior the entire time, trying to charm you as much as he can while you’re actually paying attention to him.

- And to an extent, it does work. He was really sweet and did you a big favor so you felt a little more obligated to play nice. So instead of completely blowing him off, you made an effort to greet him in the halls, sometimes willingly talking with him for a few minutes or giving him a compliment every now and again.

- He’ll talk a big game around other people; mainly Mark, telling him that he’s got you in the bag or somewhat jokingly saying that you’re all over him, but it’s just to save face and keep up his overly confident façade.

- Regardless, you finally agree to let him take you out around a year or so after the two of you first meet. He’d probably asked you out or tried to hint at the two of you potentially hanging out dozens of times but this was the only one you actually accepted which made him do an internal double take.

- There was nothing different about his approach, he played suave, he told you what he was planning on doing that Friday night and then he invited you to join him. But this time you actually agreed, as though it were totally normal, he was compelled to ask if you were feeling all right.

- For your first date, he takes you to the mall and you spend the afternoon/evening going into different stores, grabbing a bite to eat at the food court and so on and so forth.

- You didn’t expect it but the two of you actually hit it off pretty well once you gave him a chance and kept an open mind. He was frustratingly smooth most of the time but he was also sweet and made you laugh.

- And he was on cloud nine; especially when you absentmindedly grabbed his hand while leading him somewhere or walking through a crowd. He enjoyed your company so much that trying to kiss you completely slipped his mind until after you were already back inside your house later that night.

- You share your first kiss after he walks you home from school one day; maybe after the two of you go on a few more dates. You’re standing at your front door and you’re trying to say goodbye when you sort of just look at each other and begin to lean in.

- After a minute or so, you pull away and when you do, you invite him in for a drink; an offer he eagerly takes. So he comes in, you get him his drink and the two of you spend the next half hour making out on your bed; but that’s besides the point.

- You kissed him and now you’re gonna see if you’ll regret it.

- There’s a lot of Pda in your relationship but a good amount of it is sexually charged or the sort of affection that fits his cool guy attitude. He’s proud of you and wants to be touching you at all times but he doesn’t want to look like a wuss while he does it.

- He puts his arm around your shoulders a lot. He’d probably try to do it even before the two of you started dating so it barely even phases you at this point.

- Neck and jaw kisses.

-  Soft, sometimes sort of clumsy kisses. Mike acts like a ladies man but he’s been with very few girls so he doesn’t have a whole lot of kissing experience under his belt.

- You definitely have the capability to make him drunk with your kisses. You put him in a daze and get him wrapped around your little finger the minute your lips touch his.

- Making out a lot. It’s pretty much his favorite thing to do; though he secretly really likes all your innocent and doting affection.

- Sitting in his lap.

- He doesn’t use a ton of pet names but he does throw a couple of them at you from time to time, namely babe, sweetheart or princess.

- He likes to pretend that he doesn’t care for cuddling but he isn’t convincing anybody with his halfhearted complaining and nonexistent resistance while you pull him in. When you do cuddle, you’ll usually lay facing each other with your head tucked under his chin; or occasionally with his tucked under yours.

- He’s definitely a lot sweeter and softer with you when the two of you are alone together. He feels the need to keep up a reputation while you’re out in public so you only get to see his real, loving personality when you’re by yourselves.

- Su casa es mi casa. After his first visit to your home, you might as well consider him a roommate because he sure as shit acts like it’s his house.

- He’s usually too shy or embarrassed to tell you that he legitimately missed you and just wanted to see you so whenever he drops by, he’ll make up some excuse for him to be there; even though it would be perfectly in his right to answer “what are you doing here” with “I just wanted to see you”.

- He knows how to appear cool; whether it’s a conscious effort for him or not, so he usually has little trouble when trying to impress you. Either way, you’re pretty proud to have him for a boyfriend and your praise consistently makes him wanna to act up.

- He definitely tries to act like people he think you’d find impressive are his friends; even though you probably already know he’s bullshitting you. You just halfheartedly let him believe he’s fooled you.

- Sitting around sorta bored while he tries to swindle people. You get interrupted by his business quite a lot.

- Getting walked home from school.

- If you’ve got a car then you’ll usually pick him up and drive him to or from school; or wherever else, because fun fact: that wasn’t his car that Linda spray painted, it was his moms!

- He has a habit of “fixing you”. He’s always plucking things from your hair or clothes, adjusting your shirt, smoothing out your jacket, etc. Sometimes he pretends like he’s doing something just to annoy you or have an excuse to touch you.

- Consistently looking at your ass.

- Whenever you ask him for a favor, he’ll always tell you that you owe him before begrudgingly doing whatever it is. That being said, after he does it, he’ll usually “forget” that you owe him or tell you to forget about it; or settle for a kiss as payment.

- No ones allowed to know but he’s legitimately whipped for you. It might not seem like it but behind the scenes, he’s bending over backwards to make sure that you’re happy.

- Mall dates. It’s your #1 hangout spot. He’s the boyfriend who shamefully holds your hand as you drag him from one girly shop to the next.

- Concert dates.

- Renting vhs tapes and watching them together.

- Mike has a full on bar area in his room so if you’re down to drink, he has the liquor. Although, to be honest, I think he’d secretly be one of those guys who wouldn’t let you get drunk because you’re his girlfriend and he cares about you. He’d teasingly refuse to give you any before allowing you to have a tiny glass.

- I feel like his parents aren’t home a lot during weekdays; because of work or what have you, so you’ll probably hang out more at his house than yours; unless your parents also usually aren’t home.

- He usually ends up eating dinner by himself and spending most days at home alone so he’ll oftentimes call you up and have you come over. You mostly just end up hanging out and eating in his bedroom while watching television together.

- He lowkey likes stupid old tv shows so the two of you marathon them whenever they’re on tv.

- Going to his house to listen to your favorite music because it’s the 80s and he’s got a whole fucking music station set up in his room. He’s also got more albums than anyone you know.

- Occasionally, he’ll fiddle around with his keyboard while you’re at his place and you’ll convince him to teach you a few little jingles while he’s at it.

- I think that every now and again he’d surprise you with a little gift, oftentimes nonchalantly telling you not to mention it or not to worry about it. He’d probably say something like “how did that get there” and teasingly pretending like it wasn’t him, secretly reveling in the smile on your face and the way you kiss his cheek.

- Him stealing your food.

- Trying to hold back your laughter as he jokingly serenades you.

- Stealing and wearing his sunglasses.

- Ratner third wheeling. The boy gets to see a whole new side of his friend; a side that makes him seem much more down to earth, because even though Mike will pretend like he’s the same playboy, it’s easy to see that he really loves you.

- Giving Ratner advice when he needs a different approach to girls or anything else in life.

- Motivational talks. He might not be the most eloquent but he’s definitely the most supportive when it comes to people he cares about.

- Lots of teasing. It’s his favorite thing to do besides make money.

- He loves messing with you so expect to be annoyed with him quite a lot: whether it be because he threw you in the pool, shocked you, or pretended like you had something on you.

- Defending him when people insult him. Quite a few people don’t understand why you’re with him so expect a few comments from your friends, family, or just random people you know.

- He tries to act nonchalant whenever he’s jealous but it rarely ever works. He usually ends up either having a smug look on his face; because he knows you have no interest in them, or he’ll try to get information out of you about them, maybe making fun of them a little while he’s at it.

- Mike isn’t incredibly protective, he’ll usually leave you to solve things on your own, but if the problem is serious enough, he’ll get involved. He’ll try to walk away with you, maybe say something snide to the other person or about the situation, but he isn’t scared to throw hands if need be.

- Mike is pretty good at keeping his composure but certain situations just make him lose it so sometimes he’ll say something he doesn’t mean in the heat of the moment and regret it later.

- He tends to avoid his problems rather than try and fix them which might lead to him avoiding you after a fight. That being said, he isn’t above apologizing and will always do so is he knows he did something wrong or made you upset.

- He’s a bit embarrassed to tell you that he loves you so he’ll usually only say it after you say it to him.

- Mike certainly isn’t the best boyfriend, he definitely has some maturing to do, so it’s up to you to decide if you want to stick around and wait for it to happen. Just know that he likes you a lot; even if he doesn’t always act the greatest.

#mike damone imagine #mike damone imagines #mike damone headcanons #mike damone headcanon #fast times at ridgemont high imagines #fast times at ridgemont high headcanons #fast times at ridgemont high headcanon #fast times at ridgemont high imagine #80s movie imagines #80s movie headcanons #80s movie imagine #80s movie headcanon

[johnkrrasinski]

illicit affair;

full masterlist

Pairings: Professor!Andy Barber x female!reader (AU) 

Word count: 2,898

Warning: SMUT!!!! fingering, blowjob (male receiving), dirty talk. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: you had been crushing on your sexy professor, Andy Barber since the beginning of the semester but he made it hard for you to focus in class. lucky for you, he was willing to give you the best lesson in your life though. 

a/n: this one’s written for @stargazingfangirl18​ and @navybrat817​‘s shameless hoes for chris writing challenge. i picked the prompt “your professor has a different kind of extra credit in mind.” hope you like it! leave a like and comment. enjoy! 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

There he goes again, captivating the entire room with that dashing suit and tie, making it difficult for you to breathe. Andy Barber was the professor of your criminal law class. To say he was attractive would be an understatement. The man is the living embodiment of every girl’s wildest dreams. When you first took the class, with the hopes of becoming a social worker, you didn’t expect it to be this challenging. You were confident in your own work ethic and in being a fast learner. No major was too onerous for you to ace.

Until Andy Barber walked into the class on that first day and you realized he was going to teach you for the entire semester.

You had never had a man spellbinding you this badly before. You had a few crushes here and there, but not once did they make you feel the way Andy Barber does. And you knew that it was inappropriate to lust after your professor but, it wasn’t a crime if he is a divorcé and the whole class could relate, right?

It wasn’t only wrong but it was also cruel and unfair that he succeeded in making you lose every bit of your focus whenever he was around. No matter how hard you try to pay attention to what he is lecturing about, your mind would always drift away to nasty places that you shouldn’t even be thinking about visiting. No matter how hard you try to simply open your laptop and type away the vital points that you would need to memorize for final exams, you just couldn’t. It’s like you were paralyzed by his magnetism and oh, how well did he do it.

Like how you currently had a pen stuck between your teeth as if you were fellating it because you were imagining what it would be like to have those plump lips of his on yours and so your pen had to take the beating.

You didn’t know whether he noticed you at all from where you were sitting, you always choose to sit in the middle row, where you could still see things clearly on the board but you didn’t have to feel so exposed because sitting on the front row means everyone who sat behind you could see every movement you make and you would have to deal with the uneasiness of the proximity between you and your professor gave you and you had no wish to make it worse for yourself.

It wasn’t only that he was insanely good-looking but he was also a gentleman. He always charmed the class with his humorous comments and witty jokes while he was doing a lecture or simply when he called out a student who fell asleep. He always made himself available for his students who were confused about the subject or needed guidance on some complex topics. He always greeted the class with a warm smile and he always tried to understand the struggles of being a college student.

You had lost count on how many filthy dreams you had about this man, and how many daydreams you had lost yourself in during his class or simply when you were wide awake. He truly got you on a chokehold. A part of you would sometimes wonder, how could anyone divorce this man? If he were your husband, you would feel like the luckiest woman on earth. You wouldn’t ask for anything else in life.

“Any question…?” He ended today’s session by allowing the students to raise their hands if they needed some enlightenment.

Several students raised their hands and presented their questions and he answered them all eloquently. When there was no more question asked, he dismissed the class and all of the students got out of their seats and exited the room. You were still stuck amidst of your fantasy where Professor Barber was devouring you like you were the last tasty meal on earth and he hadn’t been fed for a month. The thought of his mouth lapping your juices as his beard creating delicious friction on your inner thigh alone was enough to soak your panties.  

You didn’t realize that the class was over until everyone had left and your professor called out your name. There were only the two of you now in the room.

“Y/N? Y/N! Class is dismissed.” He shook you out of your daydream with the gentleness of his voice.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, sir I was- I’m gonna leave now.”

“Are you alright? You zoned out a little there.”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just- I… I was thinking… of… finals. Yeah, I was thinking of finals.”

“If you need a brief tutor, I wouldn’t mind.”

“No, no! It’s fine, really, I’ll manage. Have a good day sir.” You hurriedly pack up your laptop and stationery and you immediately ran for the door. But you were abruptly stopped by his voice that had slightly shifted its tone.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, Miss Y/L/N, do you have a minute?”

Oh shit. This is it. This is where he is going to interrogate you for always being absentminded throughout his entire session and you are probably going to say something really idiotic and you are going to embarrass yourself or you might even spill your own secrets and he is going to get you suspended and then-

“Yes, sir.” You swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Come here, have a seat.” He pulled a chair from one of the tables and placed it across his seat.

You nervously approached him and sat down as your hands trembled because if there’s another word to describe Andy Barber, it would be intimidating. His charisma isn’t only appealing but could also conquer his interlocutors.

“I’ve noticed that your grades have been slipping lately, why is that?”

“I just- I don’t know, maybe I’ve been really tired, sir. College can be really stressful.”

“I understand. But what puzzles me is that I did some background check on you and your grades in other subjects are doing really well. In fact, you had kept a solid 4.0 GPA for two years in a row now. So, what is the problem here, y/n?”

You gulped. Fucking hell, how the hell were you supposed to answer that? “Oh, don’t worry, it’s simply you being so ridiculously hot that you have been distracting me every time you’re lecturing. Maybe, I don’t know, if you could just bend me over on your desk and make me your girlfriend, that might help me take my mind off you.”

“I just- I’ve had a lot in my mind, sir, and it’s just- this subject is really hard,” you spoke meekly. “I promise, I will work really hard on my finals, sir. I won’t let you down.” You hoped that it was convincing enough so that you could carry on with your day and not sit here like a scared mouse.

“Final starts in two weeks,” he reminded you. “How are you going to convince me that you could wrap an entire semester within only two weeks when you have other courses demanding equal attention, y/n?”

“Um, I don’t know, maybe I’ll ask a friend to help me study. I’ll do whatever it takes to pass the test, sir. I give you my word.” Goddamnit, what the hell was he doing to you? Of course, you weren’t going to ask for anybody’s help, you were always the one who was giving help to your fellow classmates instead of needing one. Now you were just making silly excuses to get you out.

His brows furrowed. You knew he wasn’t going to buy your answer so easily. Andy took his job very seriously and it disappointed him to the extreme when one of his students wasn’t doing well in his course. It made him feel like he didn’t do enough in educating these young people. So when one of his students didn’t fulfil his expectations, he was going to address it and solve the problem together.

There was a silence that lingered between the two of you until he broke it off, “how far are you willing to go to pass this class, y/n?”

“Anything sir, I-, I care about my grades. I know I don’t show it enough but I won’t fail you this time.”

“Anything?” Suddenly, the expression on his face transitioned into something impish.

“Yeah, anything at all, sir.”

“How about I offer you a proposition?” His tone was sultry.

“You do something for me, and I’ll make sure you get an A+ on your test. You don’t have to worry about failing.”

“What do you have in mind, sir?”

Instead of giving you a direct answer, he stood up from his seat and sat on the edge of the table. His hands were folded on his propped up thigh.

“I’m gonna ask you one more time, y/n and I want an honest answer. No bullshit or the deal is off.”

You were taken aback by the word that he just used. It wasn’t very in-character of him to cuss, especially in front of a student. You didn’t know if he was a completely different man outside of the university, so this was certainly something you weren’t used to.

“O-okay…”

“Why are you failing in my class, y/n?”

You bit your lip so hard you thought it might bleed. Your lips quivered as tears began brimming in your eyes. You were scared of telling him the truth but you knew if you lie again, he would see right through you and you would end up failing his class for real and there will be no second chance. You refused to retake the same course next semester when you could be getting closer to getting your degree.

You drooped your head down in defeat. The eye contact was overwhelming you and you sucked it up and gathered every last bit of dignity you had in you to give him an answer.

“I… I’m attracted to you, sir.”

He nodded. What you didn’t see was a wicked smirk forming on his lips, as if he knew what he was going to hear when he made you confess. “Go on.”

“I can’t stop thinking about- about making love to you, sir.” you stuttered your words. You cringed at your own words. There was no way to unring the bell now. You just humiliated yourself in front of the person whose attention you wanted the most. He disclosed your dirtiest secrets and this was going to be your doom.

“Good girl. Now, we better not stall any longer, yeah? I’ve got another class in twenty minutes.” He sat back on the chair and ordered, “get on your knees.”

“Wh… What?”

“You heard me. On your knees, I won’t tell you anymore.” his tone sent a shiver down your spine. You didn’t know what was happening but you were excited. You got on your feet and before you could even take a step, he stopped you. “No, no. Crawl.”

You stared at him incredulously as if he had just told you a joke. But you did what you were told to anyway, fearing that you would disappoint him before the act could even begin. You got on your knees with your hands on the floor and crawled to between his spread knees.

You waited for his next instruction with your hands on your thighs as your head hung low. “Take off my pants.”

Without further delay, you undid the zip of his pants and pulled the waistband down along with his boxer briefs, just enough to let his enormous cock spring free. “Good girl. You listen well. Now… you know what to do.” He rested his forearms on the arms of the chair and leaned back on the headrest nonchalantly whilst still maintaining his gaze on you.

Shit, you always fantasized about him using your body but you weren’t actually experienced. Yes, you’ve had a few casual hookups now and then, but it was nothing like this. Your professor who seemed to really enjoy turning you into a puddle by simply commanding you around like his own personal sex slave.

“C’mon, sweetheart, don’t act like you haven't watched porn.”

You start by doing what you had learned from a few pornographic videos which is by stroking him with your hand and then you wrap your lips around his shaft. The taste of his pre-cum mixing with your saliva made you moan. His hand then went to grab a fistful of your hair to push you forward until his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Ah, fuck. That’s better.” Then he took the wheel from there, using your hair as leverage to guide you up and down at a moderate pace. He grunted as he threw his head back against the headrest. “Shit, that’s good. Keep going, baby.” A part of you was a tad elated when he praised you for something you had very little experience in. The ecstatic look on his face amplified the dampness in your panties, your body begging for more. He kept using your face to get himself off and you felt him convulsed in your mouth. He quickened his motion and then released deep inside your throat.  

A few seconds later, he pulled himself out after his cum painted your trachea. “Get up and bend on the table,” you did what he says and pressed your cheek on the wooden surface. “Who knew a 4.0 GPA student like you would be such a dirty slut? You might fool everyone but you can’t fool me, baby.”

He lifted the hem of your plaid skirt and smacked your buttocks with both of his hands, leaving a fiery red handprint on your buttcheeks. You yelped as it echoed on the walls. He pushed aside the crotch of your underwear, and he inserted two of his fingers inside soaked holes, scissoring you wide open for him. You moaned in pleasure as you gripped the edge of the table.

“Fucking slut. I’ve barely touched you and you’re already this wet for me?” You didn’t answer as you continued to cry out. He smacked your left bum once more, “answer me!”

“Yes! Yes, sir.” You stammered between your ragged breathing.

“Is this why you can’t get your shit together? ‘Cause you keep fantasizing about my fingers buried deep in your needy cunt?”

“Yes sir…” your voice quaked.

“Extra points for honesty.” He retreated his fingers and replaced it with his cock. The unwarned intrusion sent a jolt through your body. You squealed in shock as you closed your eyes, trying to adjust yourself to his size. “Ah fuck, you’re so tight.” His hand went to your hair once more and grabbed a fistful of it as he began driving his hips forward. The friction in your G-spot sent electricity through your veins.

He didn’t waste any time by picking up the pace as he lifted your head and brought it closer to his, making you look up to him. “Does that feel good, baby? Is this how you imagined?” He kept thrusting brutally in between his foul words. “yes… Sir. You feel so good around me.” He pecked a brief kiss on your lips and kept pounding you like an animal.

A few more violent strikes and you clenched around him, pushing him to the edge along with you. “Cum baby, show me what a dirty whore you are.” You shut your eyes as you felt the tightening coil in your belly and then it burst, your orgasm dripping all over your thighs. Andy was so close to his climax and a few more deep-seated thrusts, he reached his own and he ejaculated deep inside your womb.

You tried to regain control over your breathing with Andy still engulfed in you. A few minutes later, you both came down from your highs as Andy pulled himself out of you. He put his pants back on and threw himself back on the chair. You stood up on your wobbly legs as you felt your panties squelch with both yours and Andy’s cum blended.

You straighten your rumpled skirt and shirt, as Andy did so with his tie. “You should go, don’t you have another class?”

“I do, but… Did I pass the test, sir?” you batted your lashes at him. The fear and agitation that were there ten minutes ago had dissolved.  

He chuckled at your coquettish remark. He stood up from his chair and closed the distance between you. “Yes sweetheart, you passed the test.”

You beamed as you bit your lip once more. “If you got another test for me, I wouldn’t mind…” you spoke timidly.

“You really are something, aren’t you?”

You shrugged, “I’ve got layers, sir.”

He looked at his watch and realized that he only had five minutes left for his next session. “You are dismissed… For now. I’ve got more lessons that I’d like to teach you, baby.” He winked at you and pecked your lips.

“I’ll be looking forward to our next class, sir.” You packed up your bags and exited to the hall. Looks like you just bent every rule of the university, but you had no doubt in mind that you would do it over and over and over again for your favourite professor.

#andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber au #andy barber smut #andy barber fluff #andy barber fanfic #andy barber imagine #andy barber fic #andy barber one shot #professor!andy barber #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfic #chris evans imagine #chris evans #shamelesshoesforchris #defending jacob

[putseraphinaonthaphone]

Groupchat pt. I

CW// recreational drug use, group sex, poly dynamics, virgin reader, queer reader who uses she/her pronouns and feminine descriptors, intoxicated sex

It was an interesting group of friends that you had. Well, 'friends' was a stretch, but you had a groupchat. The name was simply 'fuckers' because for some reason Bakugou was allowed to name the chat. You had the same group of stoners you ended up partying with every weekend, getting high off the strongest shit you could buy and letting loose to work off the stress of the week. It was cliche but true, you blew off steam getting high and dancing like a slut-- self care. Somehow it had evolved to more of a four person party that wasn't really a party, but you played music, smoked, and the boys watched you dance while devouring the healthy but tasty food you prepared because when you're high everything tastes 100 times better and you'd been on a restricted diet because of your chronic health issues since you were a teenager. When you'd explained this in the group chat, the most concise response you got was "so you'll cook for us?" Stoners were just your people honestly. Or maybe it was these stoners.

Bakugou mellowed out considerably after a few blunts, and he offered to blow up whoever made you cry the first time you met coming out of a party to smoke after you had a call with your best friend from back home. He'd told you that your dynamic as friends only worked if he was single. You didn't know if you'd ever have another friend like him. And there was Bakugou, offering you a blunt and violence that seemed like just the kind of friendship you craved in that moment.

Shinsou was one of the few people who came to the party simply to find people to smoke with. He rarely talked, but he was really good company you thought. He always brought indica strains-- your personal favorite as well as his you found out. Sometimes you guys talked about how it was cruel to have so many dreams but so little energy to pursue them. Sometimes you guys went back to his place and smoked yourself into a sleepy haze that always ended up in the warmest cuddles you've ever experienced.

Dabi had a viper's tongue and an even worse attitude than Bakugou. But he was cool, you bumped into him at a party when you were looking for another smoker to borrow a light from. You were feeling caustic after a phone call from home. "You got a lighter bro?" He seemed a bit amused by your masculine energy wrapped in a lush femme presenting form, like he was relieved to finally seeing someone interesting. "You look like you got all sorts of daddy issues, why haven't we met before?" His tone was both flirtatious and condescending at the time. "Whatever gave it away?" You snorted as you lit up your blunt, white grape game wrappers. But your tone was flirtatous as well as you handed your blunt to him, "We're meeting now. To shitty dads who deserve to sleep in the bed they made."

Shoto was the anomaly. You saw him around your department, guessing he was an upperclassman in your major. And one day he was at Dabi's place when you all got together to celebrate finally getting an off campus hangout spot. Apparently Dabi was an old friend, kind of like an older brother to Shoto. They definitely had a thing going on, but thinking about it too long made your face burn. His preppy appearance was shattered when he wore a short sleeve shirt instead of his usual button downs, and you saw the traditional japanese tattoos that made a full sleeve in white ink. You also noticed his silver gauges that were almost hidden by his white hair and when he pushed his hair back you saw more piercings on his ears. But when he smoked you under the table you decided you were almost in love.

If you happened to hope that one day at least one of the hot but dumb fuckers you smoked with took the hint of your many personal dance shows and fucked you, that was no one's business but your own.

You worked through the week, bullshitting assignments- but well because you were a fucking genius in your field, and on friday you decided to just wear a bra, shorts and an over shirt to the party with a beanie on your shaved head to complete the look. The pregame was at Shoto and Dabi's place this time, a short walk if you thought about the liquor and weed waiting for you. You weren't prepared for the brisk wind to meet you when you stepped out of your dorm.

"Hoes don't get cold." You chanted under your breath as you started walking. Your construction boots kept your feet warm, but the black booty shorts that were frayed at the edges left your lush thighs and your entire legs exposed to the cold wind. But after a few more minutes of walking you gave up- you weren't a good enough hoe, and you were cold. So you bit the bullet and put into the group chat:

smokerdeepthroat 11:19pm

Someone come pick me up, I'm freezing my literal ass off.

blueflamer 11:22pm

Walk bitch.

boomboi 11:24

Cash gas or ass, you know the drill.

smokerdeepthroat 11:25

Y'all can run a train on my ass if someone just picks me up before I freeze to death.

sleepystoner, icyhot, boomboi, blueflamer | read

Shit. You hadn't actually meant to send that. And of course the one time Shinsou checks the chat had to be now. "Fuckers," you grumbled under your breath. At this point it was almost like calling them your boys in a fond tone, and that thought had you almost puking onto the concrete. The fact that you were blushing was completely irrelevant.

Before you could freak out too much- internally of course, you were not going to be caught simping with one of them on the way to pick you up- you heard the familiar roar of Bakugou's car coming down the street. The bass of his emo ass rock music shook the street and you were climbing into the car before he could yell at you to get your ass inside.

You might have moaned at the heated seats, rubbing your hands over your freezing thighs. "Thanks Bakubro. It's cold as fuck and I was too excited to pregame to bring a jacket."

"A jacket isn't the problem. Your ass is hanging out." His words as usual were followed by a plume of smoke. His crimson eyes trailed over your body and a heated smirk curved his lips. "But that just means easier access for us."

"Y'all dusty ass hoes know I was joking-" You tried to bluff, tried to deflect with bravado as you took the blunt from him. But your hands shook, and Bakugou met your gaze with a quiet intensity that was somehow worse than his explosions.

"You dance like you need a dick in you. And only for us. We waited for you to make your choice, but this is less complicated." Damn it, he was smoking the horny weed. But if you were honest all weed was horny weed to your squad. There was an eroticism in the craving just one more hit. Just one more epic high. Just one more shudder of pleasure, as touching yourself to the thought of the boy's eyes on you when you got back to your dorm was as much a part of your friday night ritual as the weed.

Whenever you started smoking you felt yourself happily descending into hedonism. Bakugou's voice certainly wasn't helping. Your throat was impossibly dry- from the smoke, from desire- as you admitted quietly,

"I'm a virgin." You weren't going to apologize, compromise or argue. It was a statement and he could take it or leave it.

Bakugou wasn't an idiot. But he also was a possessive bastard in a way that made you wet even though you rolled your eyes at it.

"I'll make it good for you when I pop your cherry. I met you first, I'll take you first. I got you." It wasn't a promise, it was confident statement you knew he would stop at nothing to make a reality. His relentlessness was something that drew you to him in the first place if you told yourself the truth. He shifted gears smoothly and rested his warm hand on your bare thigh as he drove you back to the off campus house. You smoked half the blunt listening to his music and getting wet from his hands wandering higher and higher up your thigh.

You walked in to the house and realized how much you'd underestimated how serious Bakugou's words were. It seemed like it was a long time coming when you walked into Dabi's low lit living room to find him with his hand on Shoto's dick, Shoto's hand on his, and Shinsou lazily palming himself.

"It's about time you got here, you can't just drop shit like that in the chat when you're not here to bend over for us." Shoto's white and red hair was a mess, and given that it looked like the two of them were edging each other (sadists), his fucked out face made sense.

"She's a virgin, Icy Hot, you're gonna have to wait. I gotta open her up first." You in the mean time were going to start the music while smoking a bit hurriedly, hoping you were well and truly high before they actually started to run a train on you.

"Play the dick down playlist." Shinsou rasped from the couch and you wanted to cry at the head assery you had to put up with from these morons. (/s) But they're your morons, some lonely part of you whispered.

"It actually better have good music on it." You griped, but yeah, you were feeling the impact of whatever Bakugou had given you to smoke because your words weren't as harsh as you meant them to be.

"I call dibs on her ass cherry." Dabi's low voice cut throat the soft grunts from Shoto.

"Next time." Bakugou muttered watching the way you started to dance, having shed your overshirt to simply dance in your shorts and bra. None of the boys danced with you, a rule you'd had to put in place when they literally started fighting like children over who's turn it was to dance with you. Somehow it hadn't gotten better, these jealous bitches would sulk if you didn't give them all equal attention during your provocative performance. You solved this by closing your eyes and not looking at any of them while you let your body follow the nasty beat of the playlist. Sometimes you murmured lyrics if you remembered them and all four men were enraptured by the sight of you surrounded by smoke and dancing like a ancient goddess that could command them all in an instant.

It was moments like these that made you think maybe you were all a little more than friends by now. More than just groupchat contacts. But friends. Maybe more?

The blunt you finished yourself, until you were light headed and craving more. More music, more bass to move your hips too, maybe something to move your hips against. You didn't hesitate when Bakugou patted his thighs.

In fact, the weed in your system convinced you it only made sense to take your shorts off before straddling him. Better that than having to stop just when you're finally getting what you want right? You forgot you were just wearing some lace boyshorts with pale pink roses framing your luscious curves and dusky skin until you heard;

"Slutty girl." It was a groan as Shoto's grip on Dabi's cock tightened from the view of your fat ass sitting on Bakugou's lap.

"Nah, not yet. She's just needy." Katsuki smirked when you blushed from his words, even as you started grinding down on him in revenge. The choked moan that escaped him and the cocky glare you turned on all of them made all of them crave you that much more.

"You're needy to fuck me too, you all are. Don't forget that, explosion bitch."

"Point made. But watch it, little girl. It's gonna be a long night." His words were low and raspy from smoke, and even thought it should have been a threat your pussy gushed and soaked your panties anyway.

Four pairs of eyes watched your every move, drinking in the sight of you half naked, boldly staking your claim on all of them-- which only made them want to return the favor. Claiming you over and over until you wouldn't deny you belonged to them.

A long night, huh?

To be continued.....

#bakugou x reader #shinsou x reader #dabi x reader #shoto x reader #tw dubcon #tw dark content #tw: dubcon #tw: pseudoincest #tw: recreational drug use #tw: degradation #tw: kink

[prongssmrrcury]

a very bleak christmas

wolfstar fic /// one shot

word count ( 6.2k ITS LONG SORRY)

fluff, not much smut

this turned out awfully long IM SORRY😭 having that said i hope you enjoy <33 ily mwahh

"you ready wormy?" james said, shutting his trunk and looking at his bed and around the dormitory to make sure hasnt forgotten anything. he looked over at the shorter boy with sandy coloured hair who was bending down apparently trying to get something he dropped from under the bed, but struggling a great deal. he nervously shot his head up giving james a weak smile and said "yes, im ready, i just dropped something here im not sure what-"

"just tell moony to fetch it for you while we're away" james said and peter just agreed and left the dormitory trailing after james with his trunk, shutting the door on his way. the gryffindor common room was emptier than usual, but the fireplace was lit with a couple of people huddling around it to shield themselves from the ruthless cold of december. despite this however, peoples spirits were as light as ever as almost everyone was departing for two weeks to spend christmas with their families, even lily evans stopped rolling her eyes every time james breathed, and started spending more time with him and ( to james' great delight) enjoying his company. speaking of lily, she was standing by the fireplace with her hair up in a ponytail with a furry winter cap on her head. james noticed her at once and made his way down the flight of stairs and tapped her shoulder softly, she turned around and gave him a warm smile, a short hug followed.

"happy holidays james!" she smiled so widely it watered james' eye. she called him james, not potter.

"happy holidays" he managed to respond, taken aback by the sudden affection she just showed him. she looked around furrowing her brows slightly then spoke, "wheres your trunk? have you not packed?"

"oh no i have! i left my trunk with peter to um, you know, come and say hi" he said the second part of the sentence quietly, she let out a soft laugh, god he just wanted to kiss her so bad. "wheres yours?" he asked quickly. she turned around slightly to show him her trunk which was standing behind her, tapping it twice.

"alright then, lets go down to breakfast, minnie wouldnt want us to be late" he told her, taking her hand and leading her out of the common room with him. he looked back at peter who was struggling with his own trunk and james' but peter just shot him a thumbs up as if he got everything under control.

"alright wormy, dont be late" he muttered. the pair of them walked down from the gryffindor tower to the entrance hall and right to the great hall where elaborate christmas decorations were encapsulating the place, giving the entire castle a more homey vibe. the four house tables were emptier than usual, james and lily made their way to the gryffindor table where they were met by a handsome boy with long hair that he managed to scruff in a very messy pony tail, and a taller boy sitting across him who seemed to find his buttering his toast to be a very intriguing activity. lily and james took seats next to them.

"morning" sirius spoke, looking at lily then at james.

"morning sirius, how are you" lily replied, who also began buttering her toast. sirius didnt respond right away, instead he eyed her then finally spoke, "oh im, im very good" it didnt really seem like it, sirius didnt seem to be in his loud, arrogant and flirtatious mood today, instead a rather dull and quiet one. lily looked at james silently trying to understand what had caused the sudden change in sirius behavior, she was met a mere shrug from james. the four of them sat in silence for the next ten minutes, no one breaking silence that seemed to have swallowed them. remus then looked up for the first time and sighed loudly, which made sirius look very attentively at him, waiting for him to say anything.

"im gonna go, im in the dorm if you want me pads. enjoy your holidays james, you too lily" he said lowly, also clearly in a dull mood in contrast to everyones mood right now. he got up and left, shooting them a weak smile before disappearing out of the great hall.

sirius watched him so closely even when he had gotten out of sight. it was common knowledge that the pair are in love and clearly fancied each other, almost everyone in school knew that. maybe its because of sirius' shameless attitude, cuddling with remus in the common room, sitting on his lap in the middle of the great hall, or pushing remus against a wall and just stand in front of him doing god knows what. the only problem was... neither sirius nor remus knew they liked each other. they obviously knew they had a different relationship than anyone else but they were so oblivious to the fact that theyre in love that it sometimes made james just want to scream it in their face.

"you okay pads?" james said mockingly, sirius had been staring at where remus left for at least ten minutes completely transfixed, he came back to his senses at once and looking abruptly between james and lily then back at his doughnut, fiddling with it slightly. he then shot james an alarmed look and said, "dont call me that james". he spoke so firmly, he knew james knew this is what remus calls him. no one was really allowed to use that nickname with him, even he and james who had a light hearted friendship that was basically based on jokes and pranks, sirius pronounced the words looking into james' eyes, which made james know he was being one hundred percent serious. james didnt respond, feeling a rush of guilt in his stomach, he just took a bite of his oatmeal.

"how are things with you two" james asked. sirius once again didnt respond right away but instead took time to ponder his answer.

"what do you mean how are things"

"you know, have you guys had a row or anything?" james asked, stuffing more oatmeal in his mouth.

"oh- um yea no. not really no" sirius hesitated a bit. the truth is that remus and him didnt have a row, but today was one of these occasions where sirius woke up finding himself on remus' bed not knowing how or why. it had happened a couple of times before and when it did, remus would immediately smile warmly at sirius and pamper him with kisses here and there on his cheek and his jaw. however, today, remus woke up a bit more shaky to the fact that he was in the same bed as sirius. he straightened his pyjamas quickly giving sirius an awkward smile and leaving without a word.

james dropped his oatmeal and looked at sirius looking serious for the first time, giving him a smile that carried something between sympathy and support.

"are you ever going to tell him?"

"tell him what" sirius said bluntly

james smirked. even lily suppressed a knowing look. sirius rolled his eyes.

"you guys are not onto that bullshit the whole school talks about right?" he asked cringing slightly.

"if the bullshit includes you and remus being blindly in love then yes" james gave a small laugh.

"literally blindly" lily mumbled, but sirius heard her and gave her a look.

"guys- hes my best mate"

"doing a lot of canoodling with your 'best mate' ?" james smirked rolling his eyes.

"first of all, what the fuck is canoodling james, this isnt the eighteenth century" he ppinted out the weird choice of wording.

"whatever, point is, people dont sleep on their 'best mates' chests every day padfoot" sirius opened his mouth to protest but james cut him again "just save your breath will you. im trying to help"

sirius sighed heavily burying his head in his hands and shaking it.

"i dont fucking know what to do prongs. fuck ugh i hate this so much why cant it be simpler" sirius' voice got weaker.

"mate just talk to him, remus cant read your mind. and its pretty obvious the feelings mutual" james tried to convince him.

"i dont know if hes into- you know, into me" sirius tried to explain. sirius had come out to the entire school three years ago so it was common knowledge that was gay.

"oh he is" lily said

sirius blinked.

"i mean, i spend a lot of time with him in our prefects meetings and in the library and stuff" she explained. sirius blinked again.

"i mean" she began again, "he talks about you an awful lot and seems to be quite fond of you" she smiled.

"look, you'll never know if you dont ask" james said again. "look at me, i had to ask lily out at least fifteen times-"

"james what the fuck this isnt the same, why are you even comparing it" sirius interrupted

"oh of course its not the same, but communication is key, no matter what the relationship is"

"yea and when i ask him out and he just says i misunderstood all his soft affectionate gestures, then stops hanging out with me because im gay and he would know i have feelings for him, that clearly arent mutual. i'll just ruin everything, and i'll lose probably the only person that likes me in this lousy world" sirius spilled, laughing bitterly.

"sirius! you know remus would never stop hanging out with you because of that, you know it!" james said, his voice getting a bit louder.

"yea but it'd be a sticky situation when your gay friend has feelings for you" sirius said, his eyes filled with tears that he wiped right away hoping james and lily didnt see that.

"sirius.." lily said lowly

"lily can you please check up on peter and help him if needs any assistance" james told her firmly, she didnt need telling twice, knowing he wanted to be left alone with sirius. she made her way out of the great hall until she was out of sight, then james look at sirius again who had his head buried in his hands once again.

"sirius i dont know whats gotten into you today, but you know damn well that neither moony or i would ever think of you any differently because you're gay. stop saying that as if its something that hinders you" this was one of the rare occasions where james was serious and firm. he wanted sirius to know meant every word that left his mouth. at this moment he heard a sniff followed by a weak sob.

"james, i sometimes wish i wanst- wasnt, you know, gay" he managed to say between sobs. james' face fell suddenly.

"no dont say that. please dont say that, you know we love you the way you are and we dont give two damns if you're gay or not" james got up and made his way across the table to sit next to sirius rather than in front of him.

"you're me best mate, i dont like seeing you like this. i love you a lot sirius and nothing your little overthinking brain comes up with could change that" he said, pulling sirius into a hug, so hard that he mightve broken a few ribs. he wasnt gonna let go before sirius does, he could stay here all day until sirius was ready to let go. he heard strong sniffs and felt his chest going up and down. sirius broke the hug after a few minutes, looking a lot more content than he had a few minutes before. james gave him his usual cheeky smile.

"your fucking snout sirius" james laughed, picking up a handkerchief trying to clean his shoulder.

"fuck off" sirius managed to laugh, sniffing again.

"thank you" sirius said quietly

"come off it, dont thank me" james smiled at him. he watched him grab a cigarette and right when he was about to light it with the tip of his wand james stopped him hesitantly. james never really liked to mother him about smoking or give him lectures about the effects smoking had, but he noticed sirius was eating less and smoking more the past couple of days. sirius shot a "what-do-you-want" look to which james responded, "um, can you please just eat something before you smoke" james said. he knew this was a touchy subject, he never liked to mention it but they were alone and he knows he's the only one sirius would listen to. sirius gave him a hesitant look, before stuffing the cigarette back in his pocket.

"just for you prongs" he rolled his eyes, taking a bite of his doughnut. james however was filled with so much joy seeing his best friend do that just for him.

"what are you smiling so much at you prat" sirius said between bites. james shook his head softly before saying, "im very proud of you sirius, i hope you know that" sirius smiled and laughed dismissively at that statement, james knew it touched him but sirius never really knew how to respond to affectionate words.

"you're very sappy you know that" sirius laughed slightly.

"whatever" james felt his cheeks go red. "anyway i have to get going before i get minnie mad on christmas" he said, getting up, swinging his backpack on his back leaving the hall.

"tell moony i say merry christmas" james called, leaving the great hall also disappearing out of sight.

~

later that night, james and lily departed home to spend the upcoming weeks with their families to celebrate christmas, so did most of the school. as homey and welcoming as the school felt, everyone loved going back to their family, everyone except sirius. sirius was never fond of his family, he never had a good relationship with them and all they did was make him more miserable, he would take any chance to be away from them. sirius was sat in the library that was emptier than usual (but the ceiling was enchanted to fake snow) he was sitting with two giant books opened in front of him, yellowed by age. he looked over at the books, he hadnt read a single word despite being here for nearly an hour. he came here in an attempt to distract himself from the intensifying amount of nerves and stress, however, he was so lost in his thoughts that not even that gigantic book can save him from his exhausting overthinking. he sighed heavily, feeling the weight of the world on his shoulder, shutting the books that made a loud thud and put them back in their place. sirius swung his backpack on his back and left the library making his way to the gryffindor tower. he just wanted to sleep. yes, sleep, thats what he needed. he went through the fat lady's portrait and climbed up the stairs to his dormitory, finding remus sitting on his four poster bed completely engulfed by a book. remus shot his eyes up the second he heard sirius walking in and gave him a wordless smile, going back to his book. sirius' stomach did a funny lurch.

"i was starting to think youve forgotten your way around the castle" remus said, flipping the page of his book, still reading it. sirius looked at him nervously, not sure what he meant by that.

"what?" sirius asked, he was going to take his shirt off and get in his pyjamas but stopped abruptly. he didnt wanna make remus uncomfortable around him, especially after what happened this morning. they always had a very intimate relationship though, changing in front of each other was never a problem. remus suppressed a chuckle which made sirius look at him, unsure what he found comical in this very intense atmosphere.

"you can take your shirt off if you want sirius" remus said, still poured into his book.

"how can you even see me?" sirius couldnt stop himself. remus looked up from his book and gave him a is-that-even-a-question look. sirius slipped his undone tie, unbuttoning his buttons his fingers shaking horribly for a reason he didn't understand. he knew remus was looking in his book (not that he didnt want remus looking) but he still felt like all the worlds eyes are on him. a couple of awfully long minutes passed and sirius finally was in his pyjama and got into his bed under his blanket and stared absentmindedly into the wall. remus flipped the page once again, he hadnt read a word on the previous page. how could he? he was so preoccupied by sirius changing in front of him. remus did freak out when he found himself on the same bed as sirius this morning. he doesnt know why he freaked out the way he did, its not like its the first time. he knew that this had made sirius extremely self conscious the whole day, he was wearing a very dull look. he had to make up for his unexplainable actions, he cant stand seeing sirius this upset, especially if he was the reason hes feeling like that. he couldnt stand seeing him in such a bad mood on breakfast this morning that he had to dismiss himself early. but sirius' loss of his loud flirtatious attitude was what stirred the pot for remus. he didnt walk in the dorm and try to slip in bed with remus, or get a kiss from him, or remotely try draw any attention to hismelf from remus rather than that book in his hand, which was as un-sirius as one can get.

"why were you late?" remus asked sirius, knowing hes not asleep. sirius mumbled something inaudible from his bed that remus didnt catch onto. remus furrowed his brows slightly. he shut his book and put it on the bed side table, the sound he made when he shut his book made sirius shift in his bed to face remus who was staring back at him.

"where were you?" remus asked

"in the library" sirius said simply, avoiding any sarcasm or any joking around. remus face wore a surprised expression.

"oh- by your own will?" he said with a breathy laugh.

"yea" sirius replied

"what were you reading?" said remus, sounding excited. sirius didnt exactly know why he wad being interrogated by remus about his absence.

"um, i was just doing homework"

"oh, thats actually nice pads" remus smiled. sirius' stomach did another flip at the nickname. god this was so awkward and tense, sirius thought.

"sirius are you mad at me?" remus said, going straight to the point. every muscle in sirius' body went tense and completely still.

"no" sirius said bluntly.

"sure?"

"yea"

"okay. great then. um do you wanna come lay here with me?" remus offered, this was quiet foreign for remus as it was never him who initiated anything sexual or intimate. but he was willing to go out of his comfort zone for sirius. just for sirius.

"uh- sorry moony im really tired" it pained sirius to say these words, if he was being honest, he wanted nothing more than to lay in remus' chest right now and give him soft pecks and kiss his stupid plump lips.

"oh, okay" remus said lowly. "okay then" sirius wasnt sure what he meant by that tone, and before sirius has any other second to think about it, he felt his bed dip slightly and remus climbing on him, placing himself on top of sirius with his legs wide opened around his waist. sirius felt like all the oxygen in the world had escaped his lungs.

"tired, you said you are pads? want a little massage?" remus cooed softly. he leaned down on sirius' chest undoing his pyjama buttons revealing his tattooed chest.

"remus-" sirius tried to stop him. sirius promised himself he wasnt going to do anything like that with remus because he doesnt want to make him uncomfortable or possibly hate him more, however, this is different. its remus thats initiating it. it remus that did it.

"what pads?" remus continued cooing softly, completely stripping sirius of his shirt and attaching his lips on sirius' neck. at this exact moment, sirius moaned louder than he intended. he shifted slightly in his bed and put his hand through remus' hair. remus continued nibbling sirius' neck. he bit and licked at all the right spots, leaving a soft trail of kisses all over his neck and made his way up to his chin and on his lips, where he left a soft peck. sirius however pulled remus' head back towards him to kiss him properly, remus licked sirius' bottom lip which made sirius moan approvingly into the kiss. remus slipped his tongue in sirius' mouth and deepened the kiss, he felt sirius' hand wandering around his shoulder and slipped in his shirt to touch his bare skin.

"god this is so" remus moaned breaking the kiss only to attach his lips on his once again.

"remus-" sirius stopped him abruptly. remus looked down on sirius, his eyes mobing fast between his godly features, furrowing his brows slightly not understanding why sirius stopped him. did he make him uncomfortable? was sirius really not in the mood and remus overstepped a boundry? remus felt a horrible tingling feeling in his stomach as his brain raced between all the possibilities.

"remus im sorry- i cant do this" sirius said, as soon as the words left his mouth he felt horrible, reading the shocked and bewildered expression on remus face, he looked very hurt and unsure of himself.

"oh- fuck okay im sorry" remus said quickly, getting off sirius and leaving his bed, but sirius held his arm to immobilize him and not make him leave. they stared at each other for a few seconds that felt painfully long. both of them felt confused, upset with themselves and unsure of what to do or say next.

"can you please stay" sirius said quietly avoiding remus' eye. remus didnt respond which made sirius feel a horrible pit of nerves in his stomach.

"i- i don't understand. you just asked me to stop and told me you cant do this" remus spoke lowly with a soft rasp in his voice. sirius buried his head in his hand, he was on the brink of tears, he honestly didnt know what or how to explain his confusion to remus. how could he explain it or put it in cohesive words when he himself didn't understand.

"sirius please talk to me" remus said softly, holding sirius' hand

"rem i dont know how-"

"do you trust me?" remus cut him off.

"what- yes of course" sirius said sternly.

"then please tell me how you feel"

"how i feel about what?" sirius asked

"about doing this" remus tried to explain, sirius knew at once he was referring to all the sexual stuff they do.

"remus i love it. i enjoy it a lot, i sometimes just want the day to end only to get in bed with you. i- i dont know how to word my feelings because it's honestly just all a mess inside me" sirius spilled. this was the most he'd spoken all day. remus smiled at the last sentence. "what about you?" sirius asked, feeling the same horrible pit of nerves in his stomach increase. remus however smiled.

"i do things for you pads that id never do to anyone" he said, smiling more. he leaned closer to sirius' face and brushing a few strands of his hair out of his face. "but, if you feel unsure about this, we can stop and just be friends. i'd completely understand"

"no what the fuck moony" sirius said before he could stop himself, remus looked in his eyes. "no im unsure about your feelings to me, not about my feelings to you" he tried to explain.

"you think i dont like you?" remus asked quickly.

"well not exactly but im not sure how you feel towards me". at this, remus leaned down to kiss sirius lips a soft and tender kiss. he took his time to savor every bit of his mouth he could.

"maybe this would give you a good idea about how i feel about you" he smiled at him. "we're both exhausted, its best if we just go to sleep"

"right okay. can you sleep with me?" sirius asked, remus gave a breathy laugh at his sweet request.

"yes darling i can" he said with his usual rasp apparent, getting under the blanket and spooning sirius playing with his hair for the the next foreseeable hours until both of them were sleeping.

soft sun rays illuminated through the window of the gryffindor tower and on the entire hogwarts grounds. the translucent curtains that were in the dormitory were not doing any shielding from the sun rays whatsoever. it fell gently on the two boys that were sleeping together, tangled together, their bodies almost intertwining so perfectly with each other as if they were jigsaw pieces. sirius' head was on remus' chest, remus hugging sirius' body towards him and their legs just tangled. they looked so peaceful, their chests raising and going down every couple of seconds, it was all so perfect that one could confidently bet that even their heartbeats were in sync.

an owl came knocking its beak on the window above the bed theyre on, breaking the gentle yet majestically peaceful the state they were in. sirius shifted slightly in his sleep, opening his eyes to find uninvited sunlight penetrating right through his eyeballs. the owl made another knock on the window trying to grab their attention.

"fine okay" sirius said rasply, he got up sitting upright opening the window for that stupid owl that interrupted his sleep. the owl had two parcels tied on its leg. sirius untied them and the owl flew out at once.

"whos that from?" a raspy voice spoke he immediately knew it was remus.

"um, i think its" he turned the parcel around to see if there was any name, he smiled when he saw the senders name.

"yep, its from prongs" he said looking at remus who also smiled warmly.

"well, we'll open it later, lets just get up quickly now before we miss breakfast" he said, sitting up right and sliding his legs out of the bed. the two boys changed into their normal clothes. remus got into a hand knitted sweater and pants, sirius also got into a baggy sweatshirt and sloppily tied his hair up.

"pads is that mine?" remus smiled looking at the sweater sirius was wearing.

"maybe" sirius replied with a cheeky tone.

"course it is" remus rolled his eyes. "you literally have the biggest closet out of all of us, yet youre never wearing your shit" sirius gave him a weird look.

"not that i mind it darling" remus said softly, playing with sirius' hair slightly. they both left the dormitory and walked down to the common room with the intention to leave to the great hall, however they were met by a small table that was put in front of the fireplace with breakfast food laying on it. they looked at each other exchanging weird looks.

"there was no point of making you leave the common room only to go down and eat when its only you too in the whole school" professor mcgonagall's voice spoke. she was sitting on an armchair wearing her usual green dressing gown. "well anyway, im going down to have breakfast with the rest of the teachers. you two have a merry christmas" she smiled slightly and left the common room.

remus and sirius were just left there standing stupidly in front of the food table.

"well, i guess we're not leaving. sit down lets eat im starving" sirius said sitting himself down and starting to eat toast. they both ate until they were full and just laid on their armchairs to take their breath.

"wanna open the parcel prongs sent?" remus asked after ten minutes of silence.

"uhh sure" sirius said, getting the parcels, handing remus one box and he opened the other one. he tore the wrapping and opened it, a smile breaking on his face.

"he got me a wand polishing set. oh and look, he got me some hair bands" remus laughed a little. sirius put the hair bands in his wrist.

"what are you laughing at, i love it" sirius smiled "what did he get you?"

"he got me part six of 'crows or crowns'. its my favorite book and he knows i couldn't find that volume anywhere" remus' face wore a very big smile from that present. "oh and look! he got me a vest, it's beautiful"

"i'll be wearing that" sirius said at once

"of course darling you can wear it whenever"

"remus open my gift!" sirius said with so much excitement, remus held the huge box wondering what he has inside. he stared at sirius before opening it, unsure of what will meet him when he opens it. his suspicion grew larger when he was met by a cheeky smiling sirius.

"its not gonna blow up in my face right?" remus laughed a little

"only one way to find out" sirius shrugged

"oh god" remus joked. he opened the box and the first thing he saw was a big box inside labeled 'book polishing kit' remus' face fell with shock.

"sirius! sirius is this a book polishing kit? oh my god" he was gasping. sirius felt his cheeks burn by the fond expression on remus' face.

"holy shit pads where did you get this, these are so rare and expensive" he held it close to his face examining it with so much excitement.

"shhh its a gift" sirius was kind of embarrassed fora reason he doesnt know. "theres more stuff"

remus looked inside the box and laughed out loudly when he saw at least a doesnt bars of chocolate.

"what are you laughing at! this is the muggle chocolate you told me you like" sirius said flustered a little.

"yes yes i love it" remus smiled. "thank you"

sirius shrugged, not knowing what to say in situations like this.

"um, right open my gift" remus said looking nervous. remus' gift was something a little different and not very expected, he spent a lot of time thinking whether its a good idea or not. hes so nervous for sirius to see it, he felt his stomach lurch so badly he might vomit. he handed sirius an a4 piece of parchment that was folded into quarters. sirius gave him a confused yet excited look.

"are you giving me your transfiguration homework as a christmas gift moony" he joked.

"oh shut up and open it" every fibre in remus' body was screaming in anticipation and nerves. sirius unfolded the paper and read:

"dear sirius,

i am writing this in the dormitory for the fifteenth time at least. i thought so much about this and decided that its perfect. six years ago when i laid eyes on you for the first time, you had this aura that carried so much charm, something about your stupid gorgeous personality was so seductive and made me in complete lust for you. there aren't enough words in the english language to explain how you make me feel, nothing will come close to describing how i feel when you slip in bed with me every night, when i play with your hair, when i hear your heartbeats, when i hold your hand and stroke it with my thumb, when you kiss my scars, when you sit next to me in class sit there looking pretty doing nothing. i came to the conclusion that every little thing you do has me in utter awe. no one has ever made me feel like that, for a long time i was so confused as to why and how you could do that so effortlessly. i was confused about how i felt about you for so long, i was so confused about myself, and you helped me come to terms with who i am, by being so unapologetically you. at the end of a hard day you're always there to cheer me up, even in my darkest days, when nothing felt like it'll be okay ever again, you're always fucking here to change that. the number of times you've saved my life sirius, i couldnt tell you, by just merely being here. i figured that no matter what happens and no matter where life takes me, i want to always be with you. i never want to see that day i have to depart you, i dont ever see it coming because not even the strongest force from the gods above will make me leave you. im in love with you. im so fucking in love you idiot. im in love with the way you talk, the way you tie your hair, the way you dress, the way your eyes crease when you smile, your bark like laugh, your stupid jokes that i find funny unironically, your chirped nail polish... just in love with you. so sirius, this is me asking, do you want to be my boyfriend?"

sirius read the letters at least three times to make sure he wasnt missing anything, to make sure he was reading it correctly. was remus asking him out? was remus actually in love with him? none of this felt real. sirius felt like he's seeing stars in his vision, like he was going to pass out any second right now. he looked up at remus who was staring attentively on him and watching his every reaction. he met eyes with him and felt like all the worlds oxygen was being drained.

"so?" remus asked, his voice quivering.

"so?" he repeated as if this was a incredulous thing so say, " fuck yes i wanna be your boyfriend" sirius threw himself on remus on his armchair and splattered him with kissed everywhere he could reach.

"i never thought id be the lucky person to actually end up dating you" sirius breathed

"please, im the lucky one here" remus rolled his eyes.

"i mean hell yeah you are" sirius said sarcastically.

the pair of them spent the rest of the day sitting on the armchair cuddled up with the heat of each other, sharing soft intimate touches every now and then. they spent the whole day in peace and delicacy and made the most out of each other’s company. soon enough before they knew it, the holidays were over and students were returning to hogwarts for their second term.

“hi remus! hey sirius, good holiday? how are you two?” james showered them with questions enthusiastically when they saw him come in the gryffindor common room, he seemed to be in a cheerful mood.

“yea, great holiday” remus mumbled finding himself an armchair and sitting in it. the rest followed and sat on armchairs around him but sirius sat on his lap which remus scooted over a little to make space for him. james and lily looked at each other rolling their eyes playfully but happy that theyre on good terms, unlike the last time they saw them.

“what about you two? and you wormy? how was ur holiday” remus asked calmly, playing with sirius’ hair absentmindedly.

“great we had a great a time, i invited lily and wormy over, wormy couldnt make it though. but lily and i had fun, my parents liked her a lot” james smirked looking at her. “obviously they knew her because i always talked about her to them, but they’ve never really- woah WOAH” james’ speach was cut abruptly when he saw sirius attach his lips to remus’ and remus kissed him back fondly. they all exchanged shocked looks but they werent too shocked, they knew something was happening between the pair of them.

“woah guys” james laughed as they broke the kiss apart and giggled at their reaction.

“yea um, remus and i are dating” sirius said, lookinh flustered slightly. remus was still playing with his hair softly.

“does that mea we can go on double dates?” james said at once

“james potter i am not going on double dates with you and sirius thank you very much” lily said sarcastically.

“suit yourself, james and i are going on dates” sirius shrugged

“james and you are what-“ lily looked confused but cant help a laugh.

“thats right evans” sirius said in a dignified tone.

“dont you talk to my girlfriend like that black!” remus said at once. they all laughed at the sitiuation but lily said with a serious voice, “guys im so happy for you, youre finally together” she smiled wamrly. remus and sirius scooted closer next to each other smiling back at her.

“really proud of my mates” james said, trying to keep a serious tone but smirking at the same time.

#the marauders #incorrect wolfstar quotes #hp marauders #incorrect marauders quotes #marauders headcanon #marauders era #sirius orion black #siriusxremus #sirius x remus #remus lupin #sirius black #padfoot #moony padfoot and prongs #wolfstar #wolfstar fic #wolfstar one shot #james potter #lily evans #prongs #jily

[silvercrystalwhump]

Sometimes you get called a Bitch at 6 AM

(Vincent and Kauri belong to @ashintheairlikesnow and Dmitri belongs to me)

This is based on an ask for Ash on her page. I decided to write a thing on it. Just cause tiredKauri is just mwah.

-

Vincent at his dark granite counters, whisking at some batter for pancakes. He did not have to be anywhere until noon today since the Director wants night scenes today. Since Dmitri had to be at his shop, Vincent thought to make him pancakes before he left. It is a quiet morning. Vincent can hear the morning bird chirping their little hearts out outside.

Everything is nice and quiet.

Then, his phone rings.

Vincent presses the answer call on his phone and brings to his ear, "Hello, Shield speaking."

"Bitch."

"Oh hello Kauri, How was your morning?"

"Fuck you, I need your help," Kauri says, voice slightly groggy from sleep most likely. Vincent can hear the sound of water running in the background and the tapping of a shoe on the floor.

Vincent tosses in some chocolate chips and holds the phone between his ear and his shoulder, "Whatcha need?"

"This stupid fucking fine, I can't pay for it and if I tell Nat she might have my neck and Jake is still drugged up on the damned futon that almost closed on him two fucken' days ago!"

Vincent sprinkles a bit of oil on the pan and turns the volume down on his phone a little before replying, "Futon? Did something happen because I'm fairly certain he has a bed because I bought Nat one for Christmas a few years back and she said that she didn't need one so she gave it to Jake."

Kauri rustles something and the sound of probably pots and pans falling onto the floor resonates through the phone. HE listens to Kauri hiss out curses as he shoves stuff away.

Vincent just flips one of the pancakes he poured. Leaning over and starting the coffee, he slides out a few things onto the counter for Dmitri and eventually himself. "Did something happen with Jake?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second!" Kauri snaps before muttering, "Why does Antoni insist on rearranging the whole kitchen once a month." Some more rustling later and Vincent glances over at the clock on the wall, 6:14 am.

Why is Kauri up this early?

Vincent sets the oven to warm and slides his plate inside and Kauri rips apart the house through the phone. Once the noise dies down on Kauri's end, Vincent asks, "What's the fine?"

"Something about unlawful protesting and trespassing but I wasn't even on the damn premises for crying out loud. Fifteen hundred dollars over some fucking fliers and some spite. I should've decked him!" Kauri rants as he walks around and goes through a door, "Fifteen hundred dollars!"

Vincent sets some of the pans quietly in the sink. Then, the sound of tumbling down the stairs and a groan rips his eyes upward. Dmitri stumbles off the stairs and props an arm up on the table.

"I hate your fucking stairs," Dmitri groans as he slides into the chair next to him.

Vincent stifles a laugh and slides the pancakes towards Dmitri, "Good morning, I'm on the phone I'll be back in a minute." Vincent grabs his coffee and steps out into the living room.

It's quiet on the other end for a moment before Kauri chuckles, "Who's that~"

Vincent sighs, feeling the curious mockery he through phone, "Nobody important."

"Nononononono that's not how that works. When NAt told me you were becoming more like me every time she saw you I thought she was joking," Kauri chuckles, "Apparently she was not."

"Kauri..."

He hears Kauri laugh on the end of the phone and the sound of a couch creaking, "So tell me, was he good?"

Vincent takes a sip of his coffee and shakes his head, "He's not a hookup, Kauri. He's just a friend."

"Hey, I'm not judging. Out of my," Kauri pauses, "Alot of hookups most of them I didn't even know their name. So I get it."

"He's not a hookup Kauri, I'm telling you the truth," Vincent mumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose, "Do you want me to send Nat the money so she can help you with that or what?"

"Somebodies in denial," Kauri sing-songs, "If he's not tell me his name."

"It's not important Kauri, who do you want me to send the money to or do you want to give me your transfer numbers for your bank," Vincent groans as he leans back into his couch.

"I'll send them later, so what's his---" Kauri says as the sound of knocking dances through the phone "---Who the fuck is here at six in the morning?" Footsteps are followed by, "Laken? What are you doing here?"

"To apologize, for the argument," Vincent hears their voice through the phone.

Vincent looks up to see Dmitri leaning over the couch above him. He gives his tall boyfriend a drowsy smile and pulls the phone away from his ear. Dmitri places a kiss on Vincent's forehead and whispers, "I know you're busy but I'm headed out and I'll call you when I get back."

Vincent smiles, "Looking forward to it."

He returns the phone t his ear to listen to the tail end of, "-He's not even awake yet Laken. Something happened yesterday because he fell asleep with Jake so have a blanket and sleep on the couch I'll wake you when Chris' awake."

Kauri sighs and Vincent can hear him walking up the stairs. Kauri starts a computer and Vincent listens to an old chair creak under Kauri's weight.

"So, Mr. InDenial, what's his name then, Hmmm?" Kauri pokes.

Vincent buckles slightly, "Dmitri." He immediately regrets letting the word slip off his tongue.

"You hooked up with a guy named Dmitri, so was he any good?"

Vincent, now bending under annoyance and tiredness, spills, "No Kauri, he's my boyfrie--- why is this important?"

There's quiet behind the phone and then Kauri laughs, "You. A boyfriend. Holy shit! That... was not something I thought you were capable off."

"Ouch," Vincent mutters, "Please don't tell anyone, we're trying to keep this on the down low, please."

Vincent can figuratively see Kauri rolling his eyes, "Why would you need to do that? Publicity?"

"Publicity is the least of my concerns when it comes to that," Vincent whispers, his voice lowing unconsciously.

Once again, the ear-splitting silence echos through the phone before, "Almost forgot about him."

"Yeah."

The sound of the keyboard clicking brings Vincent back from his memories and into his living room. Vincent's fingers wrap around the edge of one of his pillows and his knuckles whiten.

"I pulled up my details, let me find the routing number- Jake what are you doing out of bed!" Kauri quietly yells.

Jake says something but the words don't register through the phone.

Kauri sounds annoyed when he answers, "I've already dealt with it, get your ass back in bed. I'll join you when I'm done with this bullshit. No- Go back to bed."

Vincent sets down the phone so Kauri can tell Jake what to do in peace. He exhales and now really wants Dmitri to come back.

"I don't know how Jake does this shit, every damn day," Vincent hear Kauri groan through the phone. He picks it back up and listens, "Getting up every day at the ass crack of dawn... and this isn't even the hardest part of the day and I already wanna sleep."

"Yeah," Vincent says breathless, "I can't imagine having to care for that many people. Hell, I can barely for the couple I have."

I can barely care for myself.

"Nat's gone dealing with Jameson. Jake was fucking stabbed! Chris is off in college and back for some reason, something happened too. Laken just materialized. Antoni hasn't been acting right and- fuck I just need a break," Kauri says, "I'm not good at being the one everyone relies on."

Vincent sighs, "It's not fun, having to worry about so many people and, at the same time, them worrying about you. I can't really help you directly with that but I know a place that doesn't ask questions. They serve coffee and scones there and, if you want, I can get you coffee one morning. To get away from the madness for a morning."

Kauri says nothing for a moment. A few breaths pass before Vincent hears a mouse click.

"No."

Click.

A second later, Vincent receives a text with a handful of numbers. He makes a mental note to send over the money as soon as possible. Standing up, he walks back to the kitchen and grabs his breakfast.

Kauri stayed on his mind for a while after that.

#vincent shield #dmitri o'brian #vince tries #kauri is also trying #just at something different

[fallingoverharrypotter]

Torn a New One

This is based on the @drarrymicrofic​ prompt for pretend, and got very long. Heres the ao3 link :).

The shirt is supposed to make Harry look like that one Bratz doll meme; you know the one. 

Thanks for reading <3 <3

Harry is a stoic man. That’s what Hermione calls him.

He’s sitting on Ron’s plush carpeted floors in his shiny new flat. Ron himself is passed out on a couch that costs more galleons than a year of Hermione’s tuition, with Hermione herself teetering on the edge of both her couch and hers and Ron’s refusal to bring up that they’re still fucking on the side of their tumultuous breakup. She brings up Harry’s problems to distract herself, and Harry tells her not to bother. Harry also tells her that she and Ron should just own up to their idiocy and sort their crap out sooner rather than later, and then Hermione yells loud enough to wake Ron with: Harry James Potter, you’re a complete and utter hypocrite. Ron does wake up when their voices raise like this, and then cordons Hermione off to the main bedroom leaving Harry to pretend that he’ll floo home, before the three of them end up eating cereal whilst sitting at/on Ron’s granite countertops the next morning.

All three look a right picture. Hermione is staunchly refusing to acknowledge that she’s wearing a t-shirt of Ron’s – old Canon’s merch that she’s absolutely swimming in. Harry, in solidarity, is also wearing one of Ron’s shirts without pants – the newest Wheezes rollout collection, classic stylized lettering (Ron’s got this beautiful flat because every single Witch and Wizard between the ages of 14 and 37 owns Wheezes now). And Ron himself is shirtless and in nothing but underwear.

They’ve seen more of each other than is completely normal over the last 15 years, but they’re still indulgent enough not to bring up any of the shit they refuse to talk about. They need a balancing force, Harry often thinks, someone who is outrightly honest and refuses the stupid little games that the golden trio fall into to avoid talking about their true feelings. That’s what Harry thinks inside his head, but his body ends up groaning and bending forward so his forehead smacks the countertops none too gently. His consciousness sounds more and more like someone he refuses to think about whenever he’s been drinking. Merlin save him.

“Oi,” Ron admonishes without looking up from his bowl. He’s leaning atop the counter on forearms and staring into his cereal, swirling the spoon around the stodgy mess and eating no longer.

Harry grunts first, and then says “gonna sick up, Ronnykins?” and gets glared at by Hermione who is onto her third bowl of cereal at this point. Right. Can’t joke about Lavender either, apparently. That fling definitely didn’t help the dynamic, Harry reminds himself.

“Jus’ don’t wan’ you bruising my bench with your fat head.”

Harry kicks out at Ron with his closest foot and makes contact, gets an immediate groan for his efforts, before Ron’s pulling up from his slouch and getting Harry into a pretty tight headlock. Harry resorts to elbowing Ron in the gut over and over. Ron groans and releases, making a mad dash for the fancy powder room into which he projectiles.

Hermione, for all she looks dazed and noncommittal this early into a hangover, manages to give off an air of created aloofness about the violent noises coming from down the hall. Harry smirks at her, and gets his own kick in response that makes him exclaim “ow, fuck. You two are so bloody violent.”

Before she responds, there’s a tapping at the window. Owl. Hermione stares at Harry to let him know that there’s no way she’s moving from her lounging for the bloody post, so Harry straightens up to open the window for the tawny. Efficient things these post owls are this morning; just drops the paper on the countertop near Harry’s bowl before flying right out the window without even waiting for a treat.

Harry’s shaking his head to brush away the last fuzz of the evening with the assistance of the scent of fresh air. Hermione gasps out loud. That makes Harry turn around quick enough for whiplash, and then he wishes fervently for death by sustained head trauma when the figure on the front of the paper, unfurled and sepia, winks right at him.

“Fuck,” Harry says. His gut churns, and then he’s running down the hall, past the occupied powder room to Ron’s master bath, and vomits up his guts.

 ***

Ron’s back in the kitchen by the time that Harry stumbles back in. Three strong cups of tea are quick-brewing under Hermione’s wand, even though both her and Ron’s attention is maintained by the Prophet’s front page. Because that is Draco Malfoy wearing a Wheezes “I shagged Harry Potter and all I got was this stupid shirt” collectable.

“It’s ironic!” Ron and George had insisted on its’ inception 4 years back. Only 100 had been made, a necessity: scarcity is key. They resell for a lot of money these days. Harry would rather die than see another in person. His face, a terrible photo of him caught by photographers during a pretty brutal night out, is plastered right on the middle along with stylized fireworks that go off every couple of minutes. He’d been convinced into making them, to try and control the narrative or whatever bullshit the Weasley’s had spouted just a couple of days beforehand when Harry had started stomping around the burrow or the floor of the joke shop or Hermione and Ron’s old shoebox apartment in anguish. It worked, he guesses, and he doesn’t see many of them anymore, as they’re kept in the strongest of imperturbable charms and modified protegos by anyone lucky enough to get one. But this one. This one he didn’t know about.

Hermione’s been muttering to herself as she read the accompanying story, when her voice perks up. “Merlin, listen to this: ‘this intrepid reporter asked what I’m certain all our readership will be most curious to uncover now that we are sitting down with the one and only Draco Malfoy. When we had sat down in Mr. Malfoy’s beautifully appointed drawing room, I too was especially shocked at his choice of attire,’” Hermione pauses here to roll her eyes and mutter “oh here we go,” before continuing in a higher and haughtier voice. “‘We all know the poise that Mr. Malfoy holds, one of Wizarding Britain’s most darling Stars, his performance in Wizarding Wireless serials having taken our world by storm the past 6 years. I must myself mention the serialisation of the modern take on the Wizarding classic story of Millicent Mimbletonia’s Marvelous Manor; captured this reporter’s heart, it did.’ What a load of absolute nonsense.”

“Oh, come on, Herm,” Ron says and knocks into her arm to get her to continue the story.

“Fine, but this is all absolute tripe. What was Draco thinking! Okay. Blah blah blah, you can’t believe how long this person goes on about Draco’s drawing room, blah. Okay here. ‘On questioning Mr. Malfoy’s choice to wear the now famously collectible Wheezes’ Harry Potter shirt, the gentleman seems to look slightly pensive.’

“‘‘Monsieur,’ our Star addresses me, ‘when you have been in the business of telling stories for as long as I, you start to have a great fondness for truth. I must now admit to you, and all of your lovely readers, that I bought this shirt on release and whilst under Polyjuice’. Now readers, you must bear with Mr. Malfoy here. Yours truly was very shocked-’ Good God, can this man obfuscate. Okay, then Draco says, ‘‘I’ve kept my ownership of such an item close to my chest, and away from my closest relationships. I have found over the years that true mutual affection, friendship, and love, have foundations built on beds of uncertainty and trust simultaneously, and thus I was afraid to expose myself.’ I but in here and ask what we must all be thinking at this admission: is he such a big fan of our Saviour that he is ashamed? But Mr. Malfoy continues: ‘No, monsieur. In all honesty, I am the man’s biggest critic.’’” Harry ducks his head, his hands shaking as he reaches for the now over-brewed tea.

Hermione looks up at Harry and Ron with wide eyes. Ron looks back at her wide eyed too, glancing small looks at Harry every now and again when he finds something particularly salacious, but he says nothing. Harry is hiding his trembling hands and trembling mouth behind a blisteringly hot cup of tea. She receives no objections, and continues. “‘‘I am livid that he’s been out of the public eye for so long regardless of his exceptional ability to bring about change in those around him; Potter has worked the same archival job in the Ministry for 5 years, with no end in sight, I fear. He refuses to allow those outside of his closest friends and family to know him in any sense, and I would argue that this is truly detrimental to his relationship with the Wizarding community. Although I disagree with the man on many things, I will be the first to say here and now that if any person deserves privacy, it is him. But the relationships we build with those we love-’’” and Harry snatches the paper out of Hermione’s hands.

“Harry,” Ron starts, reaching out a hand and grasping his upper arm. Hermione too has hopped down off the counter and is crowding Harry’s other side. He wants to shake them off, but he can’t. He can’t stop looking at the paper in his hands with Draco’s figure. Draco’s white blond head of hair turned beige on paper, his eyes sharp and flirty to readers, his hands restlessly gripping at his shirt. The shirt with Harry’s face.

Harry is a stoic man. Hermione tells him that exactly, Ron tells him that adjacently, and Draco. Draco has said the same thing in so many ways and at so many times that Harry has had it drilled into his head. His eyes are watering now, a little. And he can’t read much more of the article, but he doesn’t really need to. Because Draco will skate around enough of his personal life that it seems as though he’s come clean about something when he’s actually just marketing his next serial; it’s what he does.

This time, though, he’s wearing one of those terrible shirts that almost single-handedly sparked the Wheezes fashion line and bought Ron this apartment, and he’s saying things here that Harry knows are true. Knows are directed right at Harry. Knows because a week ago Harry had walked right out of Draco’s “well-appointed” drawing room, slamming the door and not answering the following owls. Harry hasn’t slept at his own sparse flat for a week. He’s spent time at Ron’s, spent time at Hermione’s, spent time at the Burrow. He’s even spent time in the dark halls of Grimmauld, which he hasn’t wanted to touch for years, no matter how many people around him shared their opinions on it being the perfect. Home. One day.

They’re standing there, the three of them, when a knock sounds on Ron’s front door. Harry freezes, but Ron staggers out into the hallway, still in nothing but underwear.

“Sweet Merlin, Weasley, could you put on some bloody pants? You do know it’s ten o’clock?” Says the visitor, and Harry just lets his back go limp, setting out to truly bruise Ron’s beautiful granite countertops with his forehead once again. He can hear Ron sarcastically mumble something along the lines of ‘yes Malfoy, of course you can come in’. Hermione grips his arm slightly in sympathy, but turns to face the entrance to the kitchen anyway. Like a traitor.

“Hermione, lovely as always. I see the three of you are in similar states of distressed undress this morning. Have you finally succumbed to your polyamorous destiny?”

“Nice to see you too, Draco. Lovely article.”

“Thank you. Do you like the shirt, too? Catches a sweet mint in resale these days.”

“You don’t say…”

“Yes, yes. Now, Harry, please pick yourself up off of the place we civilised people prepare our food.”

Harry groans into the cool surface, but can’t stop himself from responding. It’s a natural reaction to the bullshit that comes out of Draco’s mouth most times. “If you’ve ever made a meal by yourself in your life, I’ll eat the countertop.”

“Harry,” his voice is menacing, and his footsteps are getting closer, “I’m not civilised.” And at that Draco grabs Harry by the shoulder and turns up around and back up against the counter top with not a small amount of force.

Harry’s reply comes out breathless from the impact. “You said ‘we’.”

“It was a universal ‘we’.” Draco says this through gritted teeth. His blond eyebrows are sitting right on top of his grey eyes and they scream murder louder than they’ve ever done before, which is saying something since Draco was once a Death Eater, no matter what the admiring general Wizarding public would like to remember.  

Harry doesn’t have a retort prepared, per se. It would be a more concise comment on how Draco hadn’t taken a single English language course his entire life, and what would he know about the universal ‘we’, but Harry meets Draco’s eyes and he’s a bit lost. A week of blanket non-communication. A bit extreme. Not gone longer than a couple of days without talking for years, have they.

“Cuppa, Draco?” That’s from Ron.

“Yes. Two sugars. Level.”

Ron scoffs, but Draco beats him to it. “Weasley it’s two-level sugars, please, for once, reorient your sense of balance before you spill the entire sugar pot into the cup.”

“Just don’t give him any sugar, Ron. He’s obviously already mental, we don’t want him to go into cardiac arrest.” This from Hermione.

“Uh-”

Draco scoffs before Ron can respond. “Settle down Granger. I’m not going to pretend to like black tea for some sense of superiority like some of us.”

“It’s better for your-”

“You know what’s good for your health?” Draco all but yells and spins around to face Ron and Hermione. Ron, still next to naked, and Hermione drowning in Ron’s clothes. She’s back to sitting on the counter, Ron leaning back next to her. They look like they’ve looked for the past 10 years – drawn to each other, allies, et cetera. Draco huffs. “What’s good for your health is you two sitting down and talking about your absolutely bloody insane coupling. What’s good for your health is not getting blackout drunk every Friday night and ending up sleeping with each other, and then not talking about it, until the next week when you can do it again.”

Ron and Hermione are shifting where they sit, Hermione, looking as though she’s getting herself ready to argue back, and Ron in a more protected position behind his ex-girlfriend. Harry feels a little sorry for them, getting the third degree from Draco when he looks as unhinged as he does now. The Harry on his chest, a mess when the photo was taken, is now looking at them disappointedly like he’s on Draco’s side. Like a magical recreation of a Harry who was in quite an intense meltdown at the time has any right to be “on Draco’s side” about any issues of wellbeing.

Hermione does get the strength to pipe up. “Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy.” But that’s all she can get out. Harry’s pretty sure she’s stumped. Doesn’t have an argument. Draco, Harry knows, has refused to get involved in this situation. Has watched from the side-lines and stewed. Harry’s been all for letting the two of them work their shit out in their own time, but he’s a stoic man, what does he know about all that?

“Don’t take that tone with us, Draco Malfoy,” is Draco’s retort, mocking back in a high-pitched squeak that Harry winces at. Hermione was about to hop off the counter, he could see, but Ron’s sudden arm around her waist kept her down. “You two just have to talk about it. So what if Hermione slept with Lavender? You guys weren’t together at the time!”

Hermione splutters, eyes wide, all thoughts of advancing physically on Draco gone. Ron sat eyes wide too, flicking between Draco and Hermione as if waiting for more.

“Wait-” he starts.

Hermione wails “Ron I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I know. It was such a bad thing to do-”

“No wait! You’ve been acting weird because of that?” And Ron looks incredulously at Harry. Harry sends him an incredulous look back, equally as surprised that Draco hit the nail on the head.

“What! You knew?” Hermione is still wailing.

Ron turns fully to face her and wails himself: “Of course I knew! How could I not know! Harry told me! Draco told me! Lavender told me! Hell, a month ago you got so drunk you told me.”

Hermione’s eyes are so wide that Harry’s afraid she’s going to start crying, and he grabs Draco’s arm in shock. Draco tenses all of a sudden and then Harry consciously remembers why he’s not doing that and shrinks back again. Ron and Hermione aren’t really focusing on anything but themselves now, so they don’t notice how Draco turns slowly back to face Harry, backed against the kitchen’s island like he has been since Draco arrived.

“And you, Harry Potter.” Draco pauses, and Harry has time to do a quick pass over. Draco on the front page of the Daily Prophet and Draco in the middle of Ron’s stylish London flat are two very different Draco’s. Quiet, pensive, charming and loveable Draco in the papers. Thoughtful. Friendly. A bloody myth.

This Draco. Angry, flustered, dishevelled, loud. This is the same Draco who, when Harry slipped up the other week – the week when everything changed – went red, went silent, went unresponsive in so many ways. Harry, fresh off the first love confession he’d ever given, so incredibly off the cuff that it had shocked him and scared him, had had to storm out of the apartment, slam the doors behind him, and apparate away to his own flat he barely spends any time in.

He’d slipped up. They’d never even suggested anything romantic between the two of them. They’d been close for a long time at this point and. Feelings. His feelings. They were supposed to be unspoken. He’d been nursing the growing beast of his feelings behind his stupid chest, which was okay as long as they were unspoken. Pretending every day that they weren’t eating at him alive.

Eating at him when he woke up in Draco’s spare room on more mornings than he’d liked to count, early enough before work that they could sit for breakfasts in Draco’s kitchen. And then Harry’s co-workers at the Ministry archives asking him questions about Draco’s new shows or his schedule or his favourite foods. Draco and Harry having dinner with Ron and Hermione at hole in the wall restaurants in the muggle world. Birthdays together; dinners at Draco’s or Ron’s nicer flats; bickering over anything and everything they could get their minds on.

“You hate my job.”

Harry’s eyes bulge open. Did he mean to say that? Sweet Merlin. It was definitely him, and now Draco is staring at him in confused consternation, as if he has to come to terms now that Harry’s gone insane.

Harry doubles down, though. Trusts his subconscious decisions. “Yeah, you hate my job!” he repeats.

“Are,” Draco starts, slowly, “you kidding me.”

He could respond, but Harry just shakes his head instead.

Harry’s thought Draco’s been properly angry this whole time. He was wrong. “I hate your job? Who doesn’t hate your job!” Draco’s arms reach out and grab tightly around Harry’s upper arms. Harry’s not above flexing, just a little. He tells himself it’s to test the grip, but honestly, he’s hoping to distract Draco from the rage.

“It’s not that bad!” Harry repeats, and Draco groans loudly.

“Not that bad? Are you trying to give me a stress induced ulcer?”

“What do you know about stress induced ulcers?” comes a faint response from Hermione.

Draco turns his head, hands still tight around Harry’s biceps, and says “don’t you two have make-up sex to attend to?”

Harry responds. “Ron’s sick.”

Draco glares back at Harry for a second, and then turns back to where Ron and Hermione haven’t moved. “Get out, you’re distracting him from the fight.”

“We’re the emotional support,” and “lame fight” come respectively from Hermione and Ron.

“Oh, that’s rich!” Draco yells in their direction, but Harry’s sure that he’s ignoring Ron’s comment. “Emotional support! You two have let this wanker,” a thumb thrown at Harry from over Draco’s shoulder, “probably crash on your couches rather than forcing him to face me. You’re all as bad as each other.”

“Draco,” Harry feels he has to say, and draws Draco’s attention from his two best friends who definitely have been letting him crash on their couches and had not once tried to force Harry to face his problems. He loves them a hell of a lot.

“Don’t you try to lessen this, Harry Potter.” Harry’s been on the receiving edge of worse glares from Draco, so this one isn’t that bad. Harry’s actually feeling a lot better now that Draco is in the same room as him. Feels his terrible, traitorous heart almost relax. “I’m sick of you three. You’re the worst bloody enablers for each other.”

Harry scoffs. Sure, they’d never force him to do something he didn’t want to, but it’s not like they agree with his decisions all the time.

Draco hears the scoff of course, and gives up on trying to chase the others out of the kitchen. He turns around towards the entrance, faces away from all of them and talks to himself at top volume. “This is what my life has become. The sole source of constructive criticism for the bloody Golden Trio.”

Ron snorts to cover up a laugh.

“I survive working for a fascist dictator, successfully rebuild my image, forge a new path for myself in the world, but I’m here. An overworked, under-rewarded, glorified therapist!”  

Harry, Hermione, and Ron exchange glances. The other two look at Harry in commiseration, but Harry is starting to think that Draco has a bit of a point when he realises that Ron’s arm is still around Hermione’s waist who is leaning right into his side.

“Okay.” Draco takes a deep breath and turns around to face Harry. “Since they’re not leaving, you all get to hear this.” He steps closer. “I hate your job. I hate your flat. I hate that you won’t face up to hard things, and I refuse to be okay with any of that.”

Harry swallows hard.

“People are letting you get away with anything at the moment, and when you told me you loved me, I got scared. Because I thought that I’d become one of those people to you too.”

“That’s not-”

“No.” Draco stops Harry for butting in. “No. We’re not pretending any longer. I love you-” thump goes Harry’s heart in his chest, eyes bulging and smile unable to be stopped “-but sometimes I seriously don’t like you.”

Harry’s smile does dim at that, but only slightly.

Draco looks away at last, his hands on his hips, and starts pacing. “I couldn’t believe-” sharp glance at Harry through the pacing, “-you just left after you said that. I couldn’t believe you’d actually not answer my owls. You’re an absolute coward sometimes.”

“You didn’t say anything…” Harry mumbles.

“Oh,” Draco responds with an eyeroll, still pacing, “so you get to freak out for a week, but I’m not allowed longer than a couple of minutes to compose myself?”

Harry ducks his eyes, ashamed.

Draco hmphs, and pauses in his pacing to look down his nose at Harry. “That’s right. You should feel bad.”

Shirt-Harry shakes his head at real-Har- “God Draco, take the shirt off!”

“What?” Draco is shocked into pausing his restless movement. “Take my shirt off? You haven’t even apologised and want to get me half naked like the rest of you? I think not!”

“That’s not- ugh, forget this.” Harry reaches forward and grabs Draco mid-pace. “Draco.” Deep breath. Harry meets Draco’s eyes. Draco looks like he’s been through his paces. He doesn’t even look angry anymore, he just looks like the culmination of a week of stress. Ron and Hermione are eating dry cereal right out of the box from their perch as they watch, and they both give Harry nods and a thumbs up in encouragement when his eyes stray to them.

He’s a stoic man: Draco and Hermione are right. He hasn’t had to be brave in a long while. This is a moment that’s worth it though, even if he has to fake it at first.

“I’m sorry.” He has to pause at that, because he can feel the emotions bubbling up a bit too high. He takes a deep breath, and makes sure that Draco’s eyes don’t stray. “You’re… you’re right. About a lot of that-”

Draco buts in with “I’m right about all of it, actua-”

“Shut up, do you want me to get this out?”

Draco concedes.

Harry takes another breath, but the nerves have disappeared in the face of Draco’s unfiltered verve. “I shouldn’t have left. I was-”

“A coward.”

“Draco.”

“…sorry.”

“I was. I was a coward. I was scared. You didn’t respond, which never happens. You’re so good with your words.” He has to take a minute to collect his thoughts, but finds the right thread. “I love you, and have done for a while. I ran because I kind of didn’t mean to say it then. We were already fighting about something, and it just came out, which wasn’t right, and sometimes I’m so afraid that things will change, because you’re my best friend-” “Hey!” “-my best friend and I didn’t want to lose that.”

“You should have said that then.”

Harry closes his eyes. God, feelings are so bloody hard. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Oh well, as long as you know.”

“Draco. Shut up.” He swallows. “I like my job.”

“No, you don’t. You come home-” a sharp breath “-you come to mine, I mean. You come to mine after work and you can’t stop complaining. We like our jobs. I’m sure when Hermione finishes her ChP and becomes the Minister she’ll love her job too.” (“It’s a PhD, Draco, I’ve told you a million times.” “Maybe another time, Herm.”)

Harry has to breath deeper, because his blood is pumping a bit too fast in his ears. He drops his hands from Draco and takes a couple of steps back. A retreat. “I think,” and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can force the words out of his throat. He looks up and meets all of their eyes. “I don’t think I can do important things anymore. I. I don’t want to- I.”

“Merlin sakes, Harry.” Draco says. “I think it may be time we force you into therapy.” And Draco just looks impatient. “You can’t keep pretending it’s not a problem, and we can’t keep letting you!”

Harry. Harry nods. He thinks he nods. It’s what he wants to do, but he’s not really looking at anyone anymore, eyes to the ground, heart a bit too fast in his chest for comfort. He wishes that he was still eating soggy cereal in the kitchen before the post arrived this morning. He’s a stoic coward.

Draco seems to take a deep breath, and then he turns around to face the others. “Okay, get up. I’m sick of standing in Weasley’s kitchen.”

Harry takes a pause and looks at Draco’s face. He’s perfectly serious, and so is the Harry on his shirt.  Harry’s heart is still racing, but Draco just looks resigned and present. He can’t help himself from smiling a little when his eyes catch on Draco’s. He gets a pretty severe glare in response, before Draco just walks right out of the kitchen and into the living room.

Harry follows, and hears the small grunt from Hermione hitting the ground behind him. Two sets of feet follow his own.

“Don’t forget my tea, Weasley!”

Ron scoffs, but still walks back into the kitchen to make a tea he’d promised about 20 minutes earlier.

Harry sits down on the floor in the same place he sat last night. Draco’s chosen the armchair near the fire; where he usually sits. Hermione stomps over to take the seat on the couch closest to the armchair, and Ron can be heard pottering around the kitchen.

“PhD.”

Draco looks to Hermione with a frown. “What?”

Hermione looks haughty yet contrite. Like she actually can’t help herself from making sure that Draco knows he was wrong, and feels a little bit sorry about it. “It’s a PhD, not a ChP or whatever you called it.”

“Honestly Granger, what does it matter?”

A harrumph from Hermione as she settles back into Ron’s expensive couch cushions. “It’s a very important thing.”

Harry chucks her a grin, and she smiles back proudly.

Draco rolls his eyes. “Why do you all insist on patting yourselves on the back constantly. You don’t see me singing my own praises.”

Ron let’s out a violent laugh from the kitchen, and Draco flushes a little bit, his eyes flicking to Harry who grins at him too.

Mugs float out from the kitchen, Ron trailing behind. Harry grabs his out of the air and cherishes the sent of the strong tea. He can’t help but laugh when Hermione grimaces at the taste of her milkless cup, and Draco looks at her as if he’s won something.

Harry’s won something. He’s won Draco sitting here in Ron’s expensive apartment, Draco rolling his eyes when Hermione chides him about his too sweet tea, then Draco chiding Ron when he argues that Ron made it too sweet anyway, and that if he has to have teeth work done it’ll be Ron’s fault.

“You can make your own tea, you know, you’re not that famous.”

“Actually, Weasley, I’m more famous than all three of you, currently. The only thing getting you through is dumb luck and a gullible consumer base. I get by on pure talent.”

“Sure, Draco.”

“Also, I expect thanks when Wheezes gets the significant boost in sales it’s sure to this week, what with the Prophet this morning.”

“Sure, Draco.”

Harry smiles. His arse will probably start hurting before his mug is drained, and the sounds of arguing will get tiring soon after that. He’s smiling so hard his cheeks hurt a little. He takes a deep breath. “Okay, fine. Therapy. I’ll do it.”

Ron and Hermione smile at him like they knew it was coming all along, pressed up against each other on the expensive couches. Draco just looks at him with a raised eyebrow, waiting for who knows what. Probably an oral manifesto of Harry’s recognised faults and his plans to change them. Harry just smiles right back at Draco, wide and unashamed. Draco shakes his head a little bit, lips pulling up too.

Harry’s worried that if Draco keeps looking at him at all that he’ll have to walk over there and kiss him without warning. He picks his mug up and keeps sipping though, pretends he doesn’t absolutely need to do just that. Because there’s going to be time. Lots of it.

His stoicism has its uses sometimes, maybe.

#drarry #drarry fanfic #harry potter #draco malfoy #ron weasley #hermione granger #harry potter fanfic #god what have i done this is too long #love the idea that ron gets rich by capitalizing on the idiocy of the regular consumer e.g. like Supreme #drarrymicrofic #prompt: pretend #emotionally stunted golden trio #emotionally mature draco malfoy #very sexy dynamic #harry potter fanart #my fanart #my fic