#( called in ; board again ) ic

[360iris]

I finished Ice Planet Barbarians in one sitting (initially sounded like an online game like Club Penguin to me) but of course now I’m fully sat for the rest of the 15 other books in the series because this is exactly the genre I would’ve been devouring even seven years ago lmao

[exaltededge]

coutd. from @videcoeur

 That’s not what he wants to hear, ever present frown somehow deepening at the news. Since joining the Cross Guild  Draclue’s  seemingly relaxed nerves had begun to fray. It’s noisy and that insibid clown was not helping the matter. Finding any sort of solace in a literal cirus next to impossible so he turned to drinking. The usual glass to unwind at home or pleasant afternoon relaxing with a rare bottle had turned from treat to medicine to quiet the throbbing in his head.

“The clown’s mine now?” Skepticism tightens his expression, gold eyes quickly darting up and down Crocodile. Lips part and he sighs, he is not in the mood to argue but … Crocodile knew that damn clown longer than himself. Had they not escaped Impel Down with the assistance of Straw hat? That was a far closer relationship than whatever the other had conjured to make Buggy his. However the news that those troglodytes had the gall to skim from his personal bottles has Yoru shuddering against his back, bloodlust darkening his thoughts. Being one of the very few competent members of the guild kept Mihawk busy and after dispatching a vice admiral or captain God’s forbid he wanted to relax with a 700,000 beri bottle of wine. Briefly he wonders why he left his island at all, having a crew, constantly moving, it wasn’t his style for these exact reasons. 

Sour mood dips with curiosity at simple gesture, boots following after the man; the alternative being to leave and restock and at the moment a tall scotch would do. Ending up in Crocodile’s personal quarter’s is unsurprising but a momentary relief from the noise. Mihawk stands idly while the other moves about, scrutinizing eyes doing a quick once over of the room, pleased their taste align more than not. He still laments the intricate architecture and tall straight lines of his castle but a semblance of class is refreshing.  “Both.” It comes quicker than Draclue expects. “If you are feeling generous enough to part with them.” Eyes slide to dark bottle, label and year sadly facing away from him, but he trusts Crocodile's proclivity for good drink enough. "I wouldn't be so rude to take them without atleast sharing your company for a glass." Dracule moves too the reptiles desk, Yoru plucked from his back to lay across his knee as he sinks into exquisite leather and expression softening. The chair nearly swallows him, dimensions tailored specifically for the sandman.

[acid-ixx]

You mention in the first story that the Batfam finally realizes where we are because jon showed Damian our picture while calling us his parent- so I was wondering about how Damian reacted to that? Like did he realize we’d left at that point or did he just get hit in the face with that info?

— related post !

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated

a/n: y'all i have clogged nose and i hate it LMAO. anyways, i'm gonna write smth about this soon but damian's character for both the series again & again and this series is genuinely one of the more complicated to write because of how he's raised but it really goes like this—

"jon... what do you mean? that's my—"

he cuts himself off before he could continue running his mouth off. damian ignores the slight raise of jon's eyebrow, his thoughts running a mile every second.

his parent? no, never once in his life has damian considered you his parent, pushing you away whenever you try to bond with him. whatever gifts you gave him, no matter how small, or big, expensive, or inexpensive they are, he always makes a show of ripping them away right in front of you.

he told you himself. you are not his parent, never will be his parent, you'll never replace talia's standing, and there will never be a time where damian will see you as one. dick, jason, tim, literally anyone can consider you as theirs, but damian is a product of two genetically perfect individuals— you are imperfect, and it's not your business to coddle him just because you are merely married to his father in paper.

no matter how much you softly gaze at him with loving eyes, invite him with welcoming arms, praise his passion for drawing; all you'll do is weaken him and damian hates feeling weak, hates how you tempt him into melting into a puddle. that automatically makes you a burden in his book.

he hates you, and he should've been glad you disappeared off of the face of the manor.

yet the record stands still: why are you with jon? why do you hold him like he is the world in the picture? what does he mean by "sorry, damian, but me and my parents are gonna go to the carnival later!"? you, as in, bruce's spouse? why are you with them, of all people?

... why does jon get to have fun, with you? and he doesn't...?

and yet he couldn't reply to him, not when his friend babbles on for longer about his... parent. about how you, make him feel so complete. that you'll be the one helping him with his science fare project, how you two spent the night yesterday building a volcano, how you treat him with ice cream every time he achieves a good enough grade for a subject, how you, you, you always spoil jon, always comfort him, read him bedtime stories, matched bracelets, sung karaoke together, played board games with each other, picked him up from school, help him with assignments—

the more jon goes on, the more damian wants to rip his hair out. he doesn't know, doesn't know why he's suddenly pissed. is it because jon can never shut up, or because he couldn't shut up about you? about how perfect you are apparently? how you're the ideal parent he never once bat an eye on? the domestic life jon seems to brag about, it's something damian secretly wanted, and it's all ripped away from him.

it makes damian wonder, would you have done the same for him?

he knows it in himself, that if he hadn't pushed you away, he might've been in jon's place.

[incorrectbatfam]

Ways to be a nuisance in our year of 2025

(from personal experience)

Get a small box. Write "take as you need" on the side. Fill it with period products. Put them in public bathrooms, including men's rooms.

Find a pothole. Paint a dick on it. Either your town will fix it or the public will enjoy your masterpiece.

Apps like No Thanks, Boycat, and Boycott X (my personal fave) let you scan items for boycotting shit. Money talks.

Red Cards contains all the rights that everyone, citizen or not, is entitled to in this country. They come in a bunch of different languages. Print them, give them out, leave them in places that need it, etc.

Don't be a snitch. Know someone undocumented? Someone traveling for reproductive or gender-affirming care? No the fuck you do not.

If someone asks your help doing #5, be their cover. If you live where they're fleeing from: no you don't know where they went, no they didn't tell you anything. If you live somewhere people are going to: that is now your cousin, friend from high school, camping buddy, etc.

Here is a fake person generator including phone, email, and address. Here is a free VPN for desktop and mobile. Spam the shit out of those ICE tiplines, trans bathroom reporting forms, etc. Here is a thing that lets you flood an email. Make their system useless.

If you're white, you have way more freedom when it comes to interacting with cops. Distract and divert.

See Nazi shit? Tear it up, kick it down, paint it over. See a Nazi? Rip into them. If you can't, record them, post it, send it to folks connected to them. Do not let them know peace.

If you protest: nondescript outfit with a change of clothes, cover scars and tattoos, leave behind devices that can track you, and either don't drive or park far away. Masks, goggles, and helmets highly suggested. Heavy duty gloves or tennis rackets for lobbing gas cans back. Fresh water or saline solution for tear gas and pepper spray. Have an exit route but also be prepared to hunker down or get arrested.

Nonprofit orgs are always looking for donations and volunteers, especially smaller local ones. There's a role for everyone, including admin stuff for folks who can't leave home. Reach out to them and ask what help they need. The people who aren't seen are just as important as the ones who are.

If you're taking someone to get an abortion, especially a place like Planned Parenthood that might have picketers, put something under your shirt and pretend you are the one who's pregnant to divert attention. Guys can do this too. Be their secret mpreg fantasy.

Cis folks: if your trans friend asks you to accompany them to a bathroom or locker room, do it. And if someone comes poking their nose in your business, pretend you're the one who's trans—again, taking the attention away from your friend.

It takes just a dozen emails or a few people showing up at local town hall or school board meetings to disrupt everything and steer the discussion.

If you have a job in the government or something adjacent, gum up the works. Let calls go to voicemail and don't return them for hours. Leave emails unanswered for a day or few. Don't work through lunch breaks even if it's busy. Take your PTO in its entirety, and leave something only you can do incomplete. Rearrange your priorities ("Sorry Janet, I can't look into who's hiring illegal immigrants, I gotta fix this printer first"). Create excuses to delay things—it needs to be double checked, it didn't pass inspection, it didn't contain some insignificant detail.

Gather some food or prep some meals for your local homeless folks. Make a portion for yourself too. That way if someone asks, you're simply sharing a meal with an old friend who happens to be down on their luck.

Get some Pride stickers/flags/posters and sprayable Gorilla Glue. Slap them on everything, including cars and businesses owned by conservatives. Make our presence constantly known.

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[breannasfluff]

Danny’s funds are becoming increasingly slim and cutting back on food would be his first course of action. Except now there’s DeeDee to feed. He heads back to the bulletin board.

There’s a new advert up, Weed Pulling. Gloves Provided. The first call gets a busy signal, but when he tries again someone picks up. 

“Hi, I’m calling about the weed-pulling ad?”

“Are you strong?” a female voice asks.

“Er…yes?” Danny could pull on his ghost strength if he wasn’t obvious about it . 

“Can you be at the warehouse district on 220 tomorrow at 1?”

Because this is Gotham, he asks, “AM or PM?”

“AM. The weeds are weakest in the dark.”

Well, that sounds… shady as shit, as DeeDee would say. Still, pulling weeds can’t be too bad. Even if it is at night. In the warehouse district. Actually, this sounds like a bad idea–

As if the lady can hear the doubts in his head she says, “I’ll pay you $100 an hour.”

“Done.” Danny might have standards, but they include eating. At worst, he’ll use his ghost powers to escape.

The lady on the phone didn’t specify which warehouse, but it’s abundantly clear when Danny arrives. Vines are growing rampant over one of the buildings. 

“Are you the weed puller? I’m Pam.”

Danny turns to greet the speaker. She’s got red hair, glasses, and a baseball hat on. “I’m Dan.” Then he turns back to the warehouse. “That wouldn’t be your weed problem, would it?”

Pam joins him with a sigh, pulling off her glasses to clean them. “That would be it. It got a little…out of control.”

He doesn’t even want to know what made it grow to this size. It’s a localized Undergrowth all over again. Speaking of which… “Does it regenerate when cut?”

Pam turns to stare at him for a long moment. Maybe that’s a strange question to ask, even for Gotham. But then she says, “Yes. It’s too big for me to handle when it keeps growing back.”

With his ice powers, Danny could freeze the branches or even the base. From there, it would be a matter of pulling the vines off the building. Neither of which were feasible in his current form. 

He grimaces at the building. “Are you sticking around?”

Another long look. “I don’t care how you remove it if that’s what you are asking.”

“It’s not.”

Pam sucks her tongue against her teeth, then shrugs. “I could take a break for some tea. The area is empty tonight.”

Danny nods, already running logistics on how much time he’d need while keeping his powers less flashy. He’s not in Amity Park to simply blow the plant sky-high and call it a day. “Come back in two hours?”

“That’s a long tea break.”

“That’s a big weed.”

Pam stares, but Danny doesn’t back down. Finally, she shrugs again and hands him a pair of gloves. “Have fun weeding.” Her heels click on the pavement as she walks away.

Who wears heels at 1 AM for weeding? Probably the same people with building-sized weeds. 

Read the rest here!

[esotericbluntbaby]

tendencies

hamzah the fantastic x reader

description: hamzah, having a match on valentines day, gets caught up in his own world without his girlfriend. after missing the date he was supposed to go on with you after his match, he picks you up in the darkness of the night. the lingering angst and anger builds up into a plethora of tension; more specifically, a more erotic, steaming tension.

mentions: ANGST! obvi, arguments, build up of tension between you and him, both of you have your toxic traits that really shine through, nsfw!, impact play..?, size kink..?, masochist! reader, boxer! hamzah, hurt/comfort, happy ending because sadly i dont think i could ever give u guys a bad ending

PLS DONT KILL ME AGAIN I HAD TO STUDY FOR A CALC QUIZ

--

you were soaking wet, and not in the good way.

hamzah was supposed to be at the purring cat hours ago, leading to your valentines day spent skimming over the laminated menus and sipping on a martini that couldn't get you drunk even if you tried. the warm oranges and reds in the room's lighting and ambiance mimicked the anger you felt rising up inside of you. the lighting, obviously intended to create a romantic atmosphere for all the happy couples on the day of love, taunted you like it was a witch holding out lollipops to children.

now, if some external circumstance did happen, you weren't the type to get riled up or anything; you were a decently reasonable person who was always wiling to hear him out. however, there were multiple blue bubbles on your phone from texting him about his whereabouts and a diminishing amount of his texts responding; in fact, there was really no response at all. you valued the communication and comprehension that was, normally, found in your relationship. however, there was a complete lack of on the day that it mattered the most. you were simply a pawn in his game; you didn't know how much longer you could keep getting moved to different areas of his board without knowing when this game would be over.

it was now so far into the night that the waiters exchanged glances of pity at one another, ending up with your meal comped and a complementary lava cake in front of you. you realized you had said that he was running late for the past two hours. gazing at the melting ice cream placed on top of the moist delicacy in front of you, it mocked you with a certain hunger that you didn't know how to explain. simply gazing at it made you remember how it was supposed to be him that you were dining with.

it was supposed to be him who was holding open the door for you, not some random couple who booked the same reservation time as you. it was supposed to be him who was grabbing your hand from across the table as you both marveled at the complexity of the menu, not you simply ordering a martini to sip on while you waited for him to show up. it was supposed to be him who paid for dinner, not the employees who gave you pity smiles and reassuring gestures of, "i'm sure he'll be here soon."

a scowl of disdain ended up plastered on your features like a mural to an empty wall. furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and resentful eyes made its way to your facial expression, which you understood was what caused all the waiters to comp your meal; not out of gratuity, but out of sorrow and compassion. you also understood that the waiters shouldn't have had to comp your meal, if your boyfriend was simply there.

he finally arrived in the lounge as they were about to close at around 11 o'clock at night; you had been waiting there for about three hours. bruises riddled his face, a more prominent one forming on the bridge of his nose. you were too upset to care. not one single text, nor one call, and instead, a pity meal given by those around you. a cyclone had formed, rushing winds and emotions being swirled around the two of you regarding the tension within the air between you. there was not a single word spoken, yet an understanding that you were both going to leave.

as you walked to the parking lot, he attempted to put his arm around your shoulder as if nothing happened; as if he didn't leave you to fend for yourself on the one day that you shouldn't have had to. so, you threw his arm off you, causing an audacious scoff coming from his mouth. the car ride was silent after that.

opening the door, your heels slammed on the floor with a slight stomp echoing with every step. you unlocked the door for yourself, closing it behind you with a loud bang of intensity radiating off of your emotions. you were incredibly pissed and you wanted him to know that.

--

the next day, you still avoided hamzah like he had the plague and was going to spread it to you with every word spoken. you slept on opposite sides of the bed, an invisible barrier being set between the both of you. you ate breakfast together in silence, only after he decided to sit with you on the island. you sat on opposite ends of the couch as you continued the series you started together before he decided to be a complete jackass, only after he joined you on the couch.

it was only throughout the series that he realized he fucked up incredibly and you realized that it's been almost a full day without a single apology. so, he shifted uncomfortable in his seat, sighing heavily as his eyes made it to you.

hamzah could lie and say that he absolutely hated that you were mad at him with no amount of leniency regarding your behavior; he could lie and say that the anger and passion in your face didn't turn him on. he knew it was bad, however, it was like something primal awakened in him. he didn't like you mad, obviously; more importantly, he didn't want you to leave him. however, hamzah believed that you were incredibly hot with that certain scowl on your face. he was at an ultimatum; keep you upset and angry at him so he could admire you even more than he already does, or apologize so that he could stop being a complete asshole.

he chose the latter, attempting to ease his way into an apology.

"i lost yesterday."

you were quick with a rebuttal, "serves you right."

"i didn't show up because i was with some friends," he awkwardly rubbed his neck, "they offered me a drink and i stayed at their house for a little."

"that's so, so great, hamzah. what do you want, a fucking medal? a medal that says 'best boyfriend ever?'" you laughed sarcastically.

"i'm trying to apologize-"

"and i'm yet to hear the word 'sorry' exit your mouth."

his voice raised out of frustration, "because you aren't letting me fucking speak!"

"great, that's just- that's fucking great. not only do you ditch me on fucking valentines day, but now you're damn near cussing me out and yelling at me."

"oh my fucking god- i'm sorry, okay?"

"so sincere!" you exclaimed in sarcasm as you stood up from the couch, "that was the best apology ever! the only apology to ever fucking exist, actually! you might as well be a world-renowned fucking apologist, hamzah!"

you made your way to the kitchen, pouring grapes into a bowl for you to munch on as your boyfriend tried, and failed, to apologize. he followed you, still frustrated from your well-deserved attitude.

"look, i get it- i should've been there yesterday."

"they comped my fucking meal- do you know how bad they felt for me to the point where my meal was free?" you yelled, "3 hours- 3 fucking hours, jackass! i was there for 3 hours just sipping on straight vodka wondering where my fucking boyfriend was! now i'm finding out that he was with his friends instead of his girlfriend because- actually, there is no because. you're just an asshole for leaving me there like that.

he attempted to diffuse your anger by putting his hand on your shoulder, "hey-"

"not only that, but you lost your fucking match yesterday too. you fucked up with your girlfriend and also lost your damn match. how do you fuck up twice?"

you realized that was uncalled for the second it left your mouth. the expression in his face was no longer frustrated; this was pure, undeniable anger. he got closer to you, causing your eyes to look upwards towards him; the height difference caused the intimidation to rise between the both of you. yet, you weren't going to back down. he was the one who messed things up between you and, while you probably shouldn't have brought up his match, he did deserve it. there was a moment of silence between the two of you with your eye contact making all the conversation needed for a couple of seconds.

he stared at you with testing eyes, "what'd you just say?"

you made a noise between a laugh and a scoff, "i said that you fucked up twice."

his hand made its way to your neck, softly slamming you into the wall behind you. your hands made its way to grab at the hand choking you by the neck; not trying to take it off of you, but simply holding it in place. you took a sharp inhale as a smirk landed on your face, taunting him the way that the loneliness in that restaurant taunted you.

"enough with the fucking attitude."

"or what?"

he realized that you were enjoying the show that he was playing for you; he was simply a puppet in your theater. this was amusing to you; his hand around your neck was the piece de resistance of this play. you wanted to know what would happen next; in fact, you were hungry for the climax.

he laughed angrily, "oh, i get it."

"what do you get?" you acted clueless.

"you wanted this."

you scoffed, "don't get too caught up in your ego."

"what? you want me to apologize, baby? you want me to make it up to you?" his hand on your neck became tighter.

you gasped, "frankly, i don't give a shit about what you do."

suddenly, a sting emerged onto your cheek. hamzah slapped you with his hand, as he choked you with his other. your head was turned to the side, until the hand he slapped you with made it back to your face. he turned you so that you were now looking at him with your head towards his own. he gently caressed the area with the burning sensation. even in his rough moments, you're still his princess.

"you got a fuck ton of attitude for someone whose neck is in my hand," he got closer to your ear and began to speak quieter, "you're so fucking tiny, you know that? compared to me, you're so small. your neck fits in one of my hands- both of your hands fit in one of my hands. i could ruin you if i wanted to."

"except you won't."

he laughed once again, "you sure about that?"

"i'd like to see you try-"

and with that sentence, hamzah's lips were rammed into yours. this kiss was full of hunger and remorse. the two of you couldn't get enough of how the kiss was altered by how angry and sexually pent up the both of you were. the dinner yesterday was undoubtably going to end up in drunk and high sex, but this is different. this was sober and needy. this was feverish and hazy. this was better.

he manhandled you, carrying you as you straddled his waist with your thighs. laying you down on the bed, he began to take off the entirety of your clothes in swift and rough movements. getting to your underwear, he physically ripped it off of you with how rough he was being.

"hamzah!"

"i'll buy you three new ones."

he was left in his underwear by the time that his sentence was finished. taking off his boxers, his body moved on top of you in missionary and he aligned himself with the wetness of the area between your legs. he didn't give you much time to adjust as he slammed into you over and over again. he was never rough like this before. moans and your names were exclaimed from both of your sides; you were always a noise girl, so you finished quite quickly. embarrassingly quickly.

you expected hamzah to stop as he normally does; whenever you finish first, you normally let him finish by sucking him off or using your hands. however, his pace didn't stop; in fact, it quickened with the speed of a metronome on its highest setting.

he was overstimulating you, causing your hands to move on their own. you attempted to push him away, being met with being choked by him and slapped once more.

"h-hamzah-"

"you fucking asked for this."

though to an outsiders point of view, this was odd; to you, this was heaven without the process of dying. you previously asked hamzah to be more aggressive during sex; he knew that you were a masochist, yet he was always too scared to hurt you because he simply isn't that kind of guy. the realization of why he was being so rough was sweet. it was obvious to you that he felt bad for leaving you on valentines, and this was his unofficial way of apologizing. by making you feel the best you've ever felt, it made you more incentivized to forgive him for his mistakes.

he finished shortly after you, pulling out and laying down on top of you. the covers were over the both of you as you both laid there: sweaty, out of breath, and fucked out.

"did- did i do okay?" he asked, his anger and frustration now being masked with shyness and timidity.

"you did great, baby."

"i'm sorry. i didn't mean to leave you yesterday- i was just upset and i didn't want you to see me like that, especially not in public. i should've texted or just toughened up."

"hamzah, just talk to me. i would've understood."

"but it was valentines day-"

"yea, it was, but i would've been fine just being with you. we didn't have to go out or anything."

"i was being a dick. you don't deserve that. i'm sorry, pretty."

you kissed him with a kiss that foiled the previous one, one that was more gentle, "it's okay. you can make it up to me another time."

he kissed you on the cheek, gazing at you from below, "be my valentine on unofficial valentines day tomorrow?"

"of course."

--

authors note!

guys i am SORRY i lied to u like terribly horribly sorry but happy late valentines day U WERE ALL MY VALENTINES SO NONE OF U WERE ALONE ON VALENTINES BECAUSE I WAS HERE ok i love u guys bye

[wileys-russo]

alexia, “I'm here... I'm not going anywhere, so take your time, but please come back to me”, hospital 😔🤞🏻

clash of the titans II a.putellas

you didn't remember the clash, but every single one of your teammates did. the sound of the collision, the way the crowd went so silent you could hear a pin drop, the way they formed a circle around you to stop anyone from looking.

alexia remembered the noise of your body hitting the pitch, time slowing as she tried to race toward you but it was as if she had a resistance band around her waist holding her back.

she remembered finally reaching you and pushing her way through the circle, dropping to her knees as the medical team tried pulling her back. your body perfectly still despite the strange way it was twisted, nobody brave enough to even try touching you until the spinal board was there.

she remembered the blood, as much as she'd tried to forget it, it drowned her mind and trickled and dropped her way into every little crack and crevice it could, the vision striking her as she'd sit bolt upright in bed, skin clammy and cold and her head pounding as she reached for you but could only grab empty sheets.

but what alexia remembered most of all was your eyes slowly closing, and the way her heart stopped with a suffocating and all consuming terror that they might not open ever again.

it had been brewing all game, something bad happening, a hazardous mix of poor refereeing and a frustratingly locked 0-0 scoreline.

you were subbed on in the sixtieth minute, palms slapping against ingrids as she patted your back and took your place on the bench, your boots digging into the soggy turf beneath your feet.

it began to drizzle not long after that, which promptly grew harder and harder until the ball was barely moving more than a few feet with each pass and your shirt clung to you like a second layer of skin, uncomfortably damp and tight.

the second yellow of the game was finally shown much to the relief of the home fans when a poor tackle meant ewa went thumping to the ground clutching her ankle, a small patch of red bleeding through her sock the only evidence of the studs which slashed her skin.

it should have been a red, then again everyone was shocked the referee even stopped play, pere already warning he would be putting in a complaint for the lack of calls and fouls at half time.

somehow the tension was amplified even further when in the eighty second minute, the drought was broken, your girlfriend freshly subbed on and slotting one in the back of the net after a mere four touches of the ball.

you knew she'd been frustrated when she was told she wouldn't be starting and would be on managed minutes, but you'd gently reminded as you had time and time again that this was all a part of her recovery plan and she couldn't afford to rush it and risk her knee again.

you'd been there through the acl which almost broke not just alexia but your relationship with her, the stubborn midfielder pushing everyone away including you.

you were screamed at to leave until you had no choice but to listen for fear of alexia shredding her vocal chords, her mami giving you a pitiful look and a soft assurance that she would come around as she closed the door after you.

despite her demands you not bother you came back the next day, and the day after that, and again and again until finally she had no choice but to accept she couldn't just push you away, you simply wouldn't let her.

selfishly that was one of your first fears when her knee had tweaked again not long after she'd finally touched the pitch again, that you'd once again be iced out and pushed away and that this time not even therapy might be able to salvage your relationship.

alexia loved fiercely, she was one of the most passionate and strong willed women you'd ever known, but sometimes it was the pride that came along with that passion that meant she was blind to just how fiercely others loved her back.

it didn't take long before she'd managed to get it out of you, your girlfriend noticing right away you'd seemed just that little bit more reserved and withdrawn from the moment she felt that odd sense of discomfort, even if it was so slight that nobody but alexia would have even picked up on it.

as soon as the confession left your lips you were apologizing, assuring about how you knew this wasn't about you and your insecurities.

that you knew alexia needed to put her strength and her will into her recovery and again you would be by her side however she needed, but before you could even finish a hand was covering her mouth, an ever so small smile tweaking at the girls pale pink lips.

"mi amor you are allowed to have feelings, sí? it is my knee but we are a team, a couple, and i need you. i will not ever take you for granted again cariño, vale? te quiero."

and alexia did need you, more than she realised as the angst of having to once again sit in the stands and watch plagued her more than she was prepared for, feeling like all the work she'd put in to take steps forward was for nothing.

but you were always there to remind her of the truth, the truth that everything was not for nothing, and that if anyone could come out the other side stronger it was alexia, the constant reassurance that her best was all anyone could ask for.

so you'd been a little nervous when she'd finally come on, knowing that the game was nothing but tension and poor tackles but of course your girlfriend of all people would be the one to break the deadlock.

but the relief was short lived, everyone knowing now it needed to be kept a clean sheet to take the win, and you'd be lying if you said that even if she scored your mind wasn't the tiniest bit preoccupied by your worries for alexia.

that slight slip in concentration was all it had taken for you to go down, that and a corner gone horribly, horribly wrong.

it was in their favour, every single player stacked up between the posts, elbows flying and hands pushing as everyone fought to maintain position, the thud of boots meeting ball and it was flying through the air.

you'd been shoved in the back and not expecting it your knees buckled and you lost your balance, though right as you stumbled the ball fell into the pit of players and suddenly you felt a white hot pain rip through your face.

you felt something wet and sticky drip down your cheek, the smell of grass invade your nostrils as you hit the pitch and the taste of metal in your mouth, and then everything went black.

alexia was the first person in the ambulance with you, nobody even attempting to argue with her as she barked out orders about calling your family and the paramedic advised which hospital you'd be going to before the double doors slammed shut.

alexia felt bile rise in her throat, barely able to see you with the two paramedics busy trying to slow the blood and make sure you were stabilised, her questions all going unanswered as the sirens blared and the ambulance sped quickly through the streets of barcelona.

"que? no no no i have to go with her! por favor she is-" alexia tried to argue as they arrived to the hospital and you were quickly wheeled away and out of sight. but no matter how much she argued the nurse was firm the best thing she could do was wait and let the doctors do their job.

alexia was ready to find someone else to argue with but her phone ringing stopped her, your mums contact flashing as the midfielder stepped away to answer it, quickly filling her in on what happened and trying to remain calm as she did so.

being from england your family didn't fly over for every game, but your mum was quick to assure she would be on the next possible flight to barcelona and begging alexia to keep her updated which your girlfriend promised she would.

the unfortunate collision had of course been a cruel mistake but it was an accident, thanks to wet ground and poor timing. though when the player whose studs had ripped through the skin on your face had tried to come over and apologize it had taken four of your teammates to hold alexia back.

a few more phone calls, a quick change out of her soaking wet unform once eli arrived and practically shoved your girlfriend into the bathroom with a dry outfit, and a new nurse was coming over to give alexia an update. eli and one of your cousins who lived in barcelona both with her now as a few more of your teammates would be on the way now the game had finished, alexia had more support than she knew what to do with, wishing desperately she had more answers to the questions sent her way about your condition.

the nurse quickly assured everything looked worse than it really was, and that the deep gouge in your forehead was able to be stitched up, but that you'd needed a skin graft for the one in your cheek given a fair chunk of the flesh was unsalvagable.

the image of it the torn tatters of your cheek flapping in the wind and the rain as you lay still on the grass with mauve tinted blood stained skin was one that would haunt alexia for a long time yet to come.

the midfielder was only half listening, body coiled with adrenaline as the nurse spoke but really her mouth just opened and closed, blood pumping through your girlfriends ears like waves crashing against the shore.

she felt a tug on her arm, grounded back down into reality as her mami gently repeated she was able to go and see you now, but that you were heavily drugged up.

alexia was quick to follow the nurse back toward the recovery rooms, nodding along to whatever she was saying but not paying the simple pleasantries much mind, her breath catching in her throat at the final sight of you laid up in a hospital bed.

"sí sí, gracias." alexia quickly thanked the nurse who stepped out for a moment to give you both some privacy, alexias feet rooted in place as a tsunami of emotions washed over her and she needed a minute before she could even begin to process any of it.

finally her head and her feet seemed to communicate and alexia took a few steps before very slowly lowering herself into the chair at your bedside, reaching out for you before recoiling her hands, scared as if you were made of glass that could shatter at her touch.

"oh mi amor." the girl sighed with a wince, eyes raking over the stitches in your face and ever so carefully tracing her thumb along your jaw for a fleeting second.

the moment was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, the nurse appearing with an apologetic smile explaining the doctor wanted to check you over and she needed to head back to the waiting area until you woke up.

“mi vida i am here... i am not going anywhere. so take your time, but please please come back to me." alexia whispered to you quietly, kissing her thumb and again very softly pressing it to your jaw, too afraid to dare to do anything else before she stood, one final look back at you as her chest ached and she forced herself to follow the nurse out of your room.

it wasn't for a few more hours before you woke up, several of your friends and teammates coming and going and alexia's phone near constantly chiming with even more support flowing in.

until finally the fog in her head could clear just that little bit when finally the nurse on shift appeared, advising you were somewhat awake and the doctor was happy with your vitals.

eli had already left to go collect your mum from the airport, keira promising to update them both before alexia left to quickly follow after the nurse.

"ay dios mio." alexia exhaled, your eyes half fluttering open as she near levitated to your side, the nurses words falling on deaf ears as alexia nodded, gaze glued to your face as once again she left to give the pair of you some privacy.

"oh amor." alexia reached out to carefully take your hand, reief flooding her body at the ever so subtle squeeze from you, your eyes barely open as you hummed, the nurse having already warned alexia with the stitches you'd not be able to speak much.

"who-who-" you tried to mumble, alexia leaning a little closer so she could hear you properly. "who are you?" with those three words her heart dropped, her world coming crashing down as her grip on your hand slipped and she lurched back as if burned.

but then she saw it, that ever so subtle smile and the way one of your eyes opened a little wider, a too familiar look in them as groggily you reached out for hand again and she was all too happy to take it.

"eres un imbécil." alexia muttered with a shake of her head, only you would find a joke so fucked up that funny in a time like this.

"ale." you croaked, barely able to move your mouth as gently your girlfriend shushed you and warned it was best if you didn't speak as to not risk popping any of your stitches while they were so fresh.

"i am here cari, i will always be here with you, always."

[senseofnewness]

crushing!art donaldson because i need that boy to be desperate since childhood [nsfw]

• you guys have known each other since you were 7 or 8, growing up in the same circle, at first, he thought you were annoying as fuck

• only sees you during summer because you go to an all-girls catholic boarding school

• doesn't know how to deal with the fact that you grow more mature and prettier each year, so he resorts to tugging on your ponytail, pinching your waist, and teasing you with silly nicknames

• notices your hips getting wider and your chest growing fuller when you're 13, and he can't help but let his eyes linger a little too long when you aren't looking

• starts being more gentle when you play rough-and-tumble, one time, you even feel him growing hard beneath you, you never wrestled again after that

• introduces you to the infamous patrick one summer and it's the first time you understand why your dad tells you to be cautious of boys, so you stick to art, you feel safe with him

• forces patrick to invite you to his summer house after that, telling him you're like family, patrick thinks you're just getting in the way of precious boy-time with his best friend

• brings you to the beach to buy you ice cream as soon as patrick takes a nap, when you ask why patrick is missing, he tells you he's lactose intolerant and can't eat that

• tries to teach you about tennis but the shorts you're wearing makes it hard for him to form coherent sentences, he spends the whole time readjusting his own shorts

• gets mad that you always associates him with patrick, even if it makes sense since they're always glued to the hips

• his grandma thinks you're dating and calls you his girlfriend, he never bothered correcting her

• helped you get rid of the sand on the back of your thighs once and still thinks about the feeling of your skin underneath his fingers on a daily basis

• the first time he stroked himself thinking about you was after another day at the beach when he saw you mindlessly tugging at the crotch of your bikini bottom that kept riding up your crack

• was turned on by you long before that but had never admitted to himself that he was attracted to you and allowed himself to think about you in his most private moments

• caught you changing into your swimsuit once and turned bright red, it was so quick before you covered yourself and whined at him that he had barely seen anything but knowing that he saw you naked got him heavy breathing

• thinks of you as a prude innocent thing that needs to be shielded from the perversion of the world and keeps telling patrick to shut up when he starts saying innapropriate things in front of you

• gets obsessed with the idea of kissing you ever since you told him you wear flavoured lip glosses

• when he finally tells patrick about his crush, patrick is constantly on your back bragging about what a good guy art is and trying to question your feelings about him, but from art's point of view, it looks like patrick is monopolizing your time and he gets pissed about it

• gets in a big fight about it with patrick, after that patrick seems more distant with you

• finally kisses you in the ferris wheel at the funfair during the summer of your 17, he had planned that moment for days because he wanted your first kiss to be romantic

• changes his mind about you being prude and innocent when you're sucking on his tongue minutes later, you both spend the rest of the night making out on the beach

• when he tells patrick, he's all giddy until patrick reminds him how frustrating it's going to be for him to date a virgin who is saving herself for marriage

• starts officially dating you and when the making out gets too intense, he assures you he respects your choice to wait and he won't pressure you into doing anything

• you spent the whole summer after that just constantly dry humping each other, both soaked, always coming close to breaking the promise you had made to god

• gets so frustrated while making out that he asks for your hand in marriage while his is up your shirt, you laugh at him but maybe he was a little serious about it

• thinks about all the ways he could convince you to let him just slide the tip in for a second, just to feel you, but he won't

• the summer ends with you still a virgin, you did jerk him off though, a lot, like in every room and at any moment of the day, patrick even urged you to 'just do it already' the third time he caught you with your hand down art's pants

• pays for your train tickets home the first weekend back to school because he misses you so much already

• when you show him that after a long introspection you decided to stop wearing your purity ring, he already knows you're going to spend the whole weekend in bed

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: Love & Bruises

Rating: General Audiences

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader x Azzi Fudd

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Word Count: 1.5k

Summary: being a volleyball player who bruises easily welp...

I may be a D1 volleyball player, but that doesn’t mean I have the grace of one. Between diving for saves and my uncanny ability to walk into stationary objects, bruises are just part of my personality at this point. My girlfriends, however, aren’t amused.

I yelped as my knee smacked against the edge of the coffee table, my phone nearly slipping from my grasp as I stumbled onto the couch.

"Again?" Azzi’s voice was filled with exasperated amusement from across the room.

I glanced up to see my girlfriend standing in the doorway, arms crossed, an eyebrow raised in that way she always did when she caught me being, well… me.

“What do you mean again?” I tried to play it off, rubbing my knee as if that would magically make the pain disappear.

Azzi stepped forward, eyes narrowing as she scanned me like she was about to interrogate a suspect. “Do you know how many times I’ve seen you run into something this week?”

I shrugged. “Not that many?”

Azzi sighed, dropping her gym bag onto the chair before kneeling in front of me, her fingers gently rolling up my sweatpants to reveal the fresh bruise forming just above my knee. She winced. “Babe…”

“It’s not that bad!” I reassured her, even though I could already tell it was going to turn some deep purple shade by tomorrow.

Azzi looked up at me, her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’ve got bruises on your legs, your arms—” she grabbed my hand, flipping it over to reveal another mark near my wrist. “How does this even happen?”

I blinked at the bruise on my wrist like I was seeing it for the first time. “Huh. Didn’t even notice that one.”

Azzi groaned, dragging a hand down her face. “That does not make me feel better.”

“You’re being dramatic,” I teased, reaching to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “I’m fine, baby.”

Azzi didn’t look convinced, but before she could start fussing again, the front door opened. Paige walked in, holding a smoothie in one hand and a protein bar in the other. She took one look at the two of us and immediately knew something was up.

“What happened now?” Paige asked, raising an eyebrow as she set her things down.

“She hit her knee on the table,” Azzi reported like she was snitching to the principal.

Paige sighed, walking over to get a closer look. “Didn’t you just have a bruised knee from last game, causeyou forgot your knee pads?”

“yeah, yeah, I have two knees, Paige. It’s a different one this time.”

Paige gave me a deadpan look. “That’s not the flex you think it is.”

Azzi leaned back on her heels, still sitting in front of me. “We need to start wrapping her in bubble wrap.”

Paige nodded, clearly on board. “Or at least put her in some padded gear off the court.”

I groaned, flopping dramatically against the couch cushions. “You both are being ridiculous. It’s just some bruises. It happens when you play volleyball.”

Paige scoffed. “Yeah, but you also bruise from walking.”

I shot her a glare, and she had the audacity to smirk.

Azzi reached up, brushing her fingers gently over my knee. “Does it hurt?”

I bit my lip, trying to ignore the way her touch sent a small shiver up my spine. “Not really.”

Paige crossed her arms. “Okay, and the ones on your arm and hip?”

I hesitated.

Paige smirked, calling my bluff. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”

Azzi sighed, standing up and offering me a hand. “C’mon. We’re doing a cold plunge.”

My stomach dropped. “Absolutely not.”

Paige tilted her head. “You want those bruises to heal faster, don’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Not at the cost of my dignity.”

Azzi gave me a pointed look. “Y/N, you know the protocol.”

I crossed my arms stubbornly. “I hate the protocol.”

“Too bad,” Paige said, already walking toward the bathroom. “Ice bath. Ten minutes.”

I shot up from the couch, bolting in the opposite direction. “Over my dead body!”

Unfortunately, dating two elite basketball players meant my speed was nothing compared to theirs. Before I even made it three steps, Azzi had me by the waist, lifting me off the ground.

"AZZI, NO—"

"AZZI, YES," she shot back, carrying me toward the tub. Paige was already there, filling it with ice and water, a wicked grin on her face.

“You two are evil!” I shrieked, flailing uselessly in Azzi’s arms.

Paige turned, feigning offense. “Evil? Us? We’re just making sure our girlfriend can still walk by the end of the season.”

Azzi lowered me toward the water, and I started thrashing harder. “No! Let me go! This is illegal!”

“You’ll thank us later,” Paige sang as she grabbed my legs.

The second my skin met the water, I let out a blood-curdling scream.

“OH MY GOD—”

Paige and Azzi held me down as I tried to climb out, their laughter mixing with my suffering.

"You need to stay in for at least fifteen minutes," Azzi reminded me.

"FIFTEEN MINUTES?! I'M GONNA DIE IN HERE!"

Paige snorted. “A little dramatic, don’t you think?”

I glared at both of them. “I hate you.”

Paige smirked. “You love us.”

I pouted, my teeth chattering. “Not right now, I don’t.”

By the time they finally let me out, I was a shivering mess. I snatched a towel and stormed off to the bedroom, wrapping myself up like a burrito and refusing to acknowledge either of them.

Forty-five minutes later, I was still sulking. Well, sulking and on Instagram Live with KK.

“So, Y/N, how was your game?” KK asked, propping her phone up.

“Game was good,” I muttered. “Got a few bruises, though.”

KK laughed. “When don’t you?”

“That’s exactly what Paige and Azzi said.” I rolled my eyes. “They held me down in an ice bath. Held me down like I was being waterboarded.”

From across the room, Paige and Azzi gasped dramatically.

“Wow,” Paige said, crossing her arms.

“Talking about us behind our backs?” Azzi added, raising an eyebrow.

“I said what I said,” I deadpanned.

KK cackled. “Nah, they did you dirty, girly pop.”

Paige and Azzi exchanged a look before climbing onto the bed, sandwiching me between them.

“You mad at us, baby?” Paige cooed, kissing my cheek.

Azzi wrapped her arms around my waist. “You should be thanking us.”

I huffed, still playing up my grudge. “Bribery won’t work.”

Paige smirked. “Not even if we order your favorite food?”

I hesitated. “...What kind of food are we talking?”

Azzi grinned. “Whatever you want, babe.”

I sighed, finally relenting. “Fine. But next time, I get a say in my own suffering.”

“No promises,” Paige said with a wink.

I groaned, but as I let them pull me closer, their warmth melting away my last bits of annoyance, I figured maybe—just maybe—the ice bath was worth it after all. Maybe.

---

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-Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

-prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[sugarverse]

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞.

thirdyear!izuku x bitchy!black reader

synopsis: Izuku and you are forced to work together for a midterm project, and you're bent on not helping the nerd finish it.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: words like slut, cumdump are used to be degrading but nothing too far out oc, a petty slap on the cheek and thats about it? could possibly also tag as dubcon just in case, enjoy!

Izuku has known you since a little before joining uni. He was invited to move in early under the honors program along with Katsuki. Other groups who were also invited to join early were fall athletes, greek sororities and fraternities, and people in majors that take longer than 8 years to finish. As if an academic rival, hotheaded, bully from younger years wasn't enough.. you came along.

You had always had a class or two with him. Whether it be preliminary classes or your third year science credit. He doesn’t know why you don't like him, always calling him names just loud enough for him to hear or purposely shutting the door on him in pouring rain.. but the day he saw you at the buffet talking and laughing with Katsuki? His life was over. You made it hell. He thought you were so pretty when he first saw you.. but you were just such. a bitch.

Katsuki didn't have the same timed honors classes but slept in the same building. If he really wanted to avoid him, he could go to the library or study in one of the cafes. Then again there was the rec center.. or he could stay with a friend, even. But you. He couldn’t avoid you. No matter how hard he tried. 

He'd catch himself staring at the door until you came in, seeing your hair done in different styles and colors but still be so gorgeous. you could pull everything off. there was also this shiny pink lip gloss you started wearing.. It frustrated him how much he thought about how soft they’d feel against his skin, He's never pined after a girl this long. Sure he's had girlfriends over the years, but you lingered in the back of his mind. And you thought of him like dirt under your BAPEs.

You were hardly ever late, walking in a few minutes before class starts to set up your computer, drink if you decided you wanted one that morning, and switch your music playlist over. The class itself was pretty easy, not too many essays or homework assignments. It was more projects and group discussions than anything, which was probably the only real frustrating thing about this class. As the last few people struggled through the door, the professor started writing on the board.

MIDTERMS.

fuck.

“This is the last project before midterms. you will be graded on..” You drowned him out, rubbing your temples as the mention of midterms came up. Another fucking project? Are you serious? Honors kids never really learned to.. well. play, very well with others. Mostly stuck up kids were pretty disconnected from real life because their mommies and daddies paid to get them into the dorms and therefore, classes, with average Bs and Cs. The other half of the class had their heads so far up their asses there wasn’t ever a moment they weren’t passive aggressive or came off in an ‘i’m right you’re wrong’ tone. The class let out a groan everytime he announced some dumbass idea like this but he still continues. what the fuck is my life??

You sigh to yourself, rubbing your lips together as you begin to pick at the little jewels on your nails. Was it worth it to just do the entire thing by yourself so you aren't depending on anyone? No reason to get docked another few times because someone can't finish their half. This shit was pointless. The frequent ice breakers were pointless. You knew most of these people already and-

“Mr. Midoriya and Miss L/n, Miss Teller and Miss Barnes, Mr. Andrews and..” Once again you drowned out your professor's words, eyes darting over to Izuku who was staring at your teacher gobsmacked. He could feel his face burn, jaw slightly slack before shutting it nervously. He glanced over at you to see if you had been paying attention, smiling at you and giving a small pathetic wave. 

You squinted daggers at him, biting the corner of your mouth before giving a sympathy smile and turning to the assignment on the laptop. I guess it wasn't too horrible.. realistically I can make him do the work and spend the time doing more important work like studying for my major.. 

the mumbling, the stuttering, always staring, always being the first to leave for a quiz. it wasn't until you saw his name over and over again that it was a real problem. try hards are annoying. lucky for you, this one's a pussy. 

As class ended, you packed your things and headed towards the door to leave. Izuku quickly caught up with you, snaking his way through the crowd of people leaving the lecture hall. “Where'd you want to um.. to meet up? Or when-”

you cut him off before he could go spouting at the mouth. “Not worth the effort, I have more important shit to do over the next few weeks than work on some lame project. Do it for the both of us, We both know you have nothing better to do.” You continue walking away from him and onto your next class.

He stands for a moment, sighing and flatting his lips together. It shouldn't be too hard to do..right?

He debated. this. repeatedly. He really didn't want to bother, but he needed your help. He had shit to do this week! Laundry was piling up, he hasn't been going to the gym as frequent, other classes and midterms on top of the project. But every time he tried to confront you about your attitude, you have some comeback or degrading thing to say.. You bat your dumb long lashes and smack your lip gloss against your lips. He hated how fast he gave up arguing back.. it made his pants a little too tight and his eye twitch from hell. However, he was not doing this by himself. He had a rough week as it was and he's tired of letting you push him around.

He knocked on your door the Sunday before it was due, listening to you shuffle around your room before opening the door in some short shorts and one of those girly tank tops with a small bow in the middle. He couldn’t help but stare at your bare collarbone, used to seeing your name littered across it with gold jewelry before his verdant eyes quickly averted themselves back to your sharp gaze. Before he could stutter out his reasoning for being there first, or even say hello, you spoke.

“What is it?” You scratched the top of your bonnet, yawning quietly. You slip a hand under your shirt to scratch at your stomach, watching the flustered man in front of you watch your every move just to dart his attention somewhere deeper into your apartment. “If it’s about that stupid project, i’d rather rot in hell than work with you.” 

“It’s due tomorrow y/n, can’t we just get it done? I’ve done more than.. I wanna say seventy percent of it? But I have a life too you know-” He’s cut off by your laughter, watching you turn and head back to your couch. You left the door open for him to come in if he was really serious. which was a pretty low chance that he was. you guys have played this game before.

“That’s a really funny joke, izuku. ‘I have a life’, ha!” you tease, plopping onto your cushions and grabbing the remote.

“I know you have nothing better to do than school work, if you’re so close to done, finish it. I already made my own, virgin.” you fibbed, you started your own, but of course this was the one project you needed to genuinely depend on someone else. you unpaused your show, waiting to hear him shut the door in defeat.

Izuku stood in the doorway for a beat, pinching the bridge of his nose before walking in. He respectfully took his shoes off at the before shutting the door roughly behind him. 

“Can you please.” He heard his voice begin to rattle with anger, taking a deep breath in and sighing before speaking once more. 

“Can we just get this project done? Please.” The straps of his bag burned into his hand as he gripped it with vigor. He tried his best to control himself, watching you flinch at the shut of the door but at least he had your legitimate attention. 

“Please stop making this harder than it has to be.” He stared down at you, his tone slowly fixing itself. He didn't want to be an asshole.

But he was serious. You weren't scared, but you did kinda feel bad. Normally picking and poking didn't make him too upset. He was pretty used to it by now. He sounded actually upset for the first time in a long time. You felt something in your brain tell you to finish this stupid thing, motioning to set up at the dining room table. you watched him set his bag down, listening to his anything but quiet muttering. “Thank you for not being a stubborn bitch, y/n..”

oh??

oh???

“What did you say?” you turned your television off, tossing the remote on the couch before storming over to him. 

“Speak up. You got somethin to say in my fucking apartment then say it to my face, Loser ass bitch.” He was sitting down with almost everything out on the table, looking down into his bag to grab a few more things out from the bottom. You slammed your hand on the table as you spoke, the other hand resting on your hip as you tilted your head to the side. You wanted to see who the fuck he was talking to.

 “I said,” He turned his body to face yours, face burning red from irritation with a prominent look of annoyance on his face. “Thank you for not being a stubborn. Bitch. All you have done the past few weeks is make it incredibly difficult to get something done that I know we can do in two days. Stop making this harder than it has to be. I’ve seen you on about every story any. time. Theres some fucking party. You have nothing better to be doing than sitting down and working.” 

“What a fucking weirdo, you stalkin’ me now, Izuku? Nothin better to do than look for me on niggas snapchat?” You swipe the papers he set up off of your dining room table like a cat, not caring how close to being set up he was.

Come to think of it. The only parties you really went to were the ones Katsuki and his friends threw, the last two had been a tailgating party and someone's birthday but.. 

You smile, lowering yourself to be eye to eye with him. Your words came out dripping with honey but still so sour. “Is this because I hang out with ‘suki? You jealous I got my mind on someone other than you and making your life miserable, wimp?”

Your voice died out in your throat as he stood up, snatching your jaw hard enough to establish he meant business. You felt yourself trip forward slightly from a little tug, his blush pink lips twitching as if they wanted to smirk instead of looking so mean. 

“Mention him or say one more thing about how im a ‘loser’ or a ‘virgin’ again, and i'll make you forget how to walk. Keep it up, y/n. I am not in the fuckin’ mood for your bitter. shit.” He watched your facial expression change, praying his hard on wouldn't poke your thigh as you two stood incredibly close to each other.

He was far from wimpy looking.. six foot four, athletic build, and freckles covered his face. He was attractive, smart, just never hung out with the people you hung out with. You knew that. But it didn't stop the names, or the picking. He never really tried to stop you, maybe when you'd take it too far but more often than not he'd just sit and look at you and.. well, listen.

You bit your bottom lip softly, blinking a few times before staring up at him with half lidded eyes. “Take the bitter taste from my mouth then.. Talkin’ a lot of game for someone who looks like he’s gotten pussy maybe, twice in his life?” The confidence in your voice had definitely faltered, It’s not like you haven't imagined riding this dummy until the sun came up. Hes just so fucking annoying. it would be incredibly satisfying to watch his damn near virgin ass cream under you. you just weren't expecting him to be so..

Shoving his lips against yours and mumbling your train of thought, Izuku pulled you close before snaking a hand down to grope your ass. You yelp in response, tangling your hand into his messy green curls. He walked you backwards until your legs nudged against the couch, hands roaming to touch what they could of your skin. He's wanted to for so long. 

You slide next to the arm of the couch, whining softly when he pulls his lips from yours. He motioned down to the floor, watching you grab a pillow from the couch and set it under your knees. Finally speaking again, He starts untying his drawstrings. “I don't wanna hear anything out of you, we clear?” 

“crystal, in fact, anything for-” 

smack!

“What part of  ‘I don’t want to hear anything out of you’ don’t you get? Is it too hard for you to comprehend?”  He mocked your pout, continuing to speak as he tugged his joggers and boxers down to his knees. “Fleshlights don’t talk. Especially after how you treated me for so long.” He mumbled the last part, tugging his clothing down to his mid thigh.

Your eyes teared up from shock, not pain. He didn't hit hard, but it did leave a small sting on your cheek. You felt your back straighten, looking up at him with pleading eyes before muttering out a small apology. 

is that how quick you'd give yourself up? He thought to himself, pink tip now sitting in front of your lips as it glistened with pre-cum. is this how easy it was all along? “Stick your tongue out. Too late to be sorry.” 

You slide your tongue out slowly, staring up at him as you blinked the tears out of your eyes. he almost felt.. bad. was he being too mean? he tapped his tip against your tongue a few times, watching you move forward on your own to take him in your mouth. 

...maybe not mean enough.

He positioned his hands behind your head, making a makeshift ponytail before pulling you closer to his groin. He stared down at you, letting out a small groan before sighing in relief. He began to guide you along his cock dreadfully slow, watching your eyes fill with tears. He let out a soft chuckle. 

“Ah.. for as much as I hear you run your mouth, your pretty good at shutting the fuck up too. Use that tongue too, slut.” He let out a few moans under shaky breath, smirking and leaning his head back. You let your jaw go slack so he could use your throat how he wanted, trying to focus on the most important thing. breathing. Tears stream down your cheeks, trying your hardest not to gag against his cock.

“Gonna cum on your face..so y-..you’ll remember this and how fucking disgusting you really are.” He rutted into your throat sloppily, pulling away after you tapped his thigh a few times. He watched spit drip down your chin, hand going to rub his thumb over his tip.

You gasp to catch your breath, putting a hand on the ground and the other on your chest. Saliva had dripped down to your shirt, letting out a few coughs. You rub your tears away, wiping your chin. "Who knew someone like y..you could be so big n mean.." You look up at him, feeling the release of your hair. 

“Suck my dick like I showed you and I won’t have to be mean.” His face was red and sweaty, cock twitching in his hand from the coolness of your apartment. You nod, moving your hand to help you keep up with such a messy pace he had. 

You whimpered, hearing him degrade you even further. He called you a free use whore, a cumdump.. noticing the way your thighs clenched together before hovering a hand behind your head. He watched you quicken your pace, a whiny moan leaving his mouth when your tongue swirled over the nerves in his tip. 

He shivered, breath getting shaky before pulling away from you to finish over your lips and watching the mess cover your face. His hard-on twitched as he let out a sighing in somewhat relief. there's no way that he was still going, right?

“Get on the couch,” He said in a calmly, panting and wiping the sweat from his forehead. He watched you scramble to get up, sitting on the couch and attempting to clean your own face before feeling him snatch your jaw up into his hand.

“Ready to finally do our fucking work? or does your slutty cunt want attention now?” He laughed at how disheveled you looked, feeling the wetness under your chin leak onto his hand.

you blink the tears from your eyes, trying to stutter out your response before he spoke for you. “Dumb Whore. Bet you do. You get to cum on my fingers first,” 

You let out a whine whether volintarty or not, seeing his lip twitch into a small smirk. “What? My fingers aren't enough?” He moved ro rub at your clit, classused fingers pressing against you in slow circles.

“Whine all you want, You don't deserve anything more than my fingers.” He growled out, standing between your legs and opening them wider with his own. How embarrassing, to be folded up on the couch by someone you ‘hated’ so bad.

“Be lucky if I let you cum at all.” He tugs your panties to the side, dipping two fingers into you and curling them a few times. “Holy shit.. You’re soaked.” He spoke half in genuine shock and astonishment, half to degrade you. He lifted your leg to rest on his hip, pulling your panties down just enough to where he could rub your clit with his thumb and slid his fingers back in. 

You squeak, knee nudging into his side as you twitch and squirm against his fingers in pleasure. They were thick, curling and poking at that spot deeper than you thought they'd go. He still looked irritated as ever, but there was definitely also a look of admiration in his eyes. He seemed to be focusing, moving his fingers faster before making a scissoring motion with his fingers.

It was a lot, cocoa-colored eyes trying to blink the tears away that wouldn't stop forming in your eyes. “iii...izu!!” you plead, back pressing even harder into your couch as he basically climbed on top of you to finger fuck you. “It’s too muuuch- sensitive!” you tried pushing his hand from your clit only to be met with his other hand pinning it next to you.

“I bet kacchan doesn't do this to you.. Make you feel this good..” And there was that constant muttering under his breath. It wasn't hard to understand it when he was in such close proximity to you, but maybe he assumed you couldn't hear him. was he really boasting to you or himself..?

no. he was jealous. you concluded, deciding to run your mouth a little, a small smirk forming onto your plump lips. you haven't done anything with katsuki and it wasn’t really on your list to fuck community dick. but if that's what izuku thought, so be it.

“M.. makes me feel be..better!” you struggle to say, feeling him pull his fingers from your sopping cunt. you feel the knot that had been building up so quickly start to dissipate, an annoyed huff leaving your lips in response. His smirk turned into a disappointed frown, gritting his teeth before letting your wrist go and pinning your knees to your shoulders with, frankly, big hands.

“I’m gonna hit your cervix till you’re shaking,” He stated, lining his tip up before sliding into you with one big thrust. you felt your thighs ache, the warmth of his cock making you shiver. you felt full, closing your eyes tight and pushing at the arm that pinned your legs down. you wanted to hold onto him, bite, do anything to calm down how good it felt. It was overwhelming in the best way.

He slammed into you, pulling back slowly just to slam even harder into you. His lips curled back into a smirk, watching your body jolt and moving his arms to rest on either side of you. He felt you embrace him, legs trying to wrap themselves around him. He smiled into your shoulder, thrusting faster into you.

“iiizuuu.. nnghh.. h-hah please..” you pleaded, clenching around him. “ ‘m s.. ngh sorry. ‘M sorrryyyy, izu.. I am!! “ your nails raked down his shirt, gripping onto the fabric as your eyes began to roll back in pleasure.

“Now you’re sorry?” He asks into your shoulder, pulling back to move your heels onto his shoulders. He gave slow thrusts, staring down at you and your attempts to catch your breath. you nod as if your life depended on it, feeling your orgasm get closer and closer.

He moves a hand to rub over your clit quickly, watching you writhe in pleasure before continuing to thrust into you. You were seeing stars.. so much so you ended up squirting on his t-shirt. He laughs a bit, breaking into a moan as he pulls out of you. He jerked the tip of his cock for a few seconds, cumming and ruining your shirt in return.

Letting out a worn out but soft sigh, Izuku sat next to you tiredly. you try to blink yourself back into reality, feeling gross with all of the different.. hormones.  That happened to land on you and your clothing. “If you ruined my c..couch you get me a new one, nerd..” you huff out, sitting up and leaning onto his shoulder.

He leaned his head into your touch, hand wrapping around your waist. “Do you want my help to the bathroom so you can clean off?” He also needed to, but knew no way around your apartment and wasn't exactly gonna just leave you like this to search for one.

you nod, leaning into his bicep as he helped you towards your bathroom to strip you both of your soiled clothes. The project could wait another hour or so, right?

©if you like what you see please reblog! It means a lot and helps me out. Want more? Heres my m.list! I write for x black reader so throw me some requests :P my other account are icons and x black reader moodboards if you’re interested!

have a good day/night/whatever!

[exaltededge]

Crocodile barely raised his eyes from the top of the News Coo he was currently reading. He simply quirked a brow at the revelation that Mihawk had a dream about him. "Did I die in it?" He asked before shaking the papers straight and resuming his reading.

Curiosity. Paranoia. Instead of a low chuckle Dracule hums at the odd question. Usually preferring his breakfast in silent contemplation; Perona's insistent chatter seems to have rubbed off on him. "No." An even response; tone carrying no inflection of the dreams content and after taking a moment to enjoy the roasted malt and nutmeg in today's coffee his tongue moves again. "You got exactly what you wanted." Cup moves from his lips, sharp eyes briefly sliding to the other before a modifier is added: "Farfetched as it may sound."

Dracule is more than aware of what their combined skills could do to the world. Crocodile is a man of action, admirable but his dreams have burned to nothing more than once, years of scheming useless against one wet idiot in sandals. A thought that has the idea of a smile tugging at his lips. "As much as I would prefer to live undisturbed, being your dog is preferable to the Navy's."

@videcoeur

[missqhughes]

ON THE RECORD | Q. HUGHES43

-> quinn hughes x fem!reader

-> contains: dom!quinn, unprotected pnv, m!oral receiving filming sex, physical fighting, bruises and blood, sexual acts and themes, exgf!reader x vince dunn

-> IN WHICH: it’s the first canucks vs. krakens game of the season; and for quinn, this time it’s personal. when y/n’s ex has some words to say about their relationship, he shows both of them exactly who she belongs to.

-> locked in to this fic so hard bc i haven’t written in forever, so i finished writing it in the shower BUT NOT LIKE THAT I PROMISE. also there’s 100% discrepancies in real game play vs in this but please bare with me for the plot. (hope you love it as much as i do!)

*fic is not proofread

18+ CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

y/n was never nervous for a game.

but nothing could take away the ache she had leading up to this one.

it had been a while since her and quinn started dating, and he had it out for her ex since she told him all the horrible things he did to her; cheating, lying, hooking up with multiple women during the season, making a fool out of her publicly. however, she begged quinn not to start something; let bygones be bygones and leave it be, arguing how she left it all behind her. he agreed, knowing he didn’t want any bad press on himself; as captain and as someone the media knew wasn’t a fighter in the league.

y/n sat with her friend in the suite , fiddling with the sleeves of quinn’s jersey, eyes following where he was skating; he looked calm, focused, attentive to warm ups.

“dude, you need to calm down,” her friend laughed, noticing her obvious stress, “nothing is going to happen between them, i promise.”

y/n looked at her friend, “i know, i know. it’s just… quinn hates him. i know vince, and i know he can’t help himself from a fight. i’m just worried.”

“think quinn can’t handle himself?”

“no i know he can, i don’t want him risking getting hurt over something as stupid as a fight,” she retorted, gaze still fixed on the ice, “especially with vince.”

“i think you’re being dramatic,” her friend chuckled, taking a sip of her cold beer, “it’s just another game, no big deal.”

y/n sighed, shoulders relaxing a bit, allowing her friend’s reassurance to ease the tension in her body, “yeah, you’re right. just another game,” she said, cheering her cup with hers.

——————————————————————————

CANUCKS 3 - KRAKEN 2 / 3RD PERIOD

quinn was good at keeping his cool.

he had to, after all.

he ignored the glares from vince, his attempt at intimidation lingering through the entire game.

they didn’t come close in contact, until during a time out, quinn heard a voice call out at him,

“y/n here tonight? bet she came just for me,” vince chirped, a sinister, smug look on his face as he skated past him.

quinn stayed stone faced.

further into the final period of the game, he felt a body slam into his, nearly losing his balance and almost falling into the boards,

the whistle blew, and quinn was met yet again with vince’s hubristic stance,

“saw you’re with her now, how’s that goin for you? bet i come up a lot,”

vince spat, quinn skating closer to him, his temper beginning to spark in his body,

“get over it bud. she’s done with you.” quinn said calmly, the other players around the ice not aware of the situation brewing beside them.

“look hughes, you’re not special,”

with each word, the kraken gets closer and closer to quinn, puffing his chest and spewing hate, the hands in his gloves in the beginning of curling into fists,

“it was just you to get over me,”

quinn’s jaw tightened,

vince laughed bitterly, “she’s a slut, you tonight someone else tom-”

vince couldn’t even finish his sentence before quinn shoved him hard, both their gloves dropped as they fought, quinn bringing him down to the ice, delivering blow after blow to his face.

it all happened so fast, y/n heard the pounding on the glass, cheering on a fight, and feeling her stomach twist when she saw 43.

oh god.

none of the refs were able to get quinn off of him alone, his fists not stopping until they were bruised and bloody, matching the wounds on vince’s face.

quinn was panting with anger, face tinted crimson, a light bruise forming on his cheekbone where vince had landed a punch. he couldn’t feel the near splits in his knuckle, too riled with adrenaline to feel anything but rage.

——————————————————————————

fortunately enough, the canucks ended the game with a win, but that didn’t change how fired up y/n knew quinn was going to be when she saw him.

she was allowed to be in the locker room during post game interviews, and she watched nervously as interviewers swarmed and crowded quinn, bombarding him with questions.

he was asked about the fight, detail, if vince had said anything to set him off, the why as a captain, he would start something on the ice.

quinn’s expression remained nothing short of blank, refusing to answer any questions regarding it, pursing his lower lip, “nothing to say about that. keep it about hockey and that’s it.”

after post game reports had finished, y/n waited outside by the doors for quinn to come out.

she didn’t know how he was going to be when he came out, pacing with worry about what the media would twist this game in to.

y/n heard the heavy doors click open, quinn in a lazy rendition of his suit, walking over to her; the bruise on his cheek deeper in color than when she initially saw.

“hey baby,” she said softly, opening her arms for quinn to embrace without hesitation.

“hey,” he replied, tightening their hug before pulling away, “cmon, we need to go home.”

quinn didn’t give y/n a chance to respond when he hooked his hand into hers, leading her to his dark tinted car in the lot.

y/n slid into the passenger seat while quinn loaded his gear into the trunk, she looked out the window until the driver’s side door clicked shut.

she looked over at quinn, an unreadable look on his face; he said nothing, instead putting the car in drive to go back to their shared apartment.

the drive home was silent.

the only sound being the hum of the car engine and their steady breaths. quinn always had his hand on her leg when he drove, but this time his hand was a little higher, his grip a little tighter, all whilst he kept his gaze fixed on the road. y/n’s breath would hitch ever so slightly when his fingers kneaded into her skin.

——————————————————————————

quinn was still quiet even after getting home.

frustrated, y/n spoke out, “quinn, what did vince say to you?” she said with a sigh,

“shit about me. about you. us.” he mumbled, taking off his suit jacket and undoing the black tie he had on.

“so, that’s reason enough to give me the silent treatment all the way home? you’re acting like that was my fault,”

“i never said it was your fault.”

“you don’t have to! it doesn’t take a lot to know you’re upset,” she retorted,

“y/n,” quinn started, walking over to where she was standing, holding her by the neck when he kissed her roughly, biting her lip when she moaned lightly into his mouth.

he tapped the back y/n’s of legs, and she jumped hooking her legs around his waist without objection.

quinn waltzed them to the bedroom, their kiss nowhere close to cooling off. quinn lightly tossed her on the bed, lips peeling off hers to suck and bite on the exposed skin of her neck.

y/n groaned lightly, beginning to unbutton his collared shirt, when quinn pulled off of her, leaving y/n with furrowed brows.

“quinn, what’s wrong?” she said, propping herself up on her arms, looking up at her boyfriend, confused.

“wait here baby,” he said, leaving the room.

she nodded, and about 15 seconds had passed when quinn returned to the room, his phone in hand with the camera app already opened.

“you want to make a movie huh?” she said, beginning to peel off the jersey that housed quinn’s name.

“only for our number one fan. leave the jersey on,” he said, “but everything else, off. now.”

y/n nodded, slipping down her pants and thong, her pussy already aching with the desire quinn had filled in her.

quinn swiftly undid his belt with one hand, lowering his pants and boxers to leave his hard length exposed.

“c’mere, suck.”

y/n obliged, moving down to her knees to meet quinn at hip length, the phone flash shining brightly in her face when she took the tip of his dick and swirled it around her tongue.

quinn groaned, moving his free hand to pull y/n’s hair into a ponytail with his fist. his breath quickened, y/n taking all of him in, bobbing up and down; quinn’s hips matching her rhythm.

he had almost forgot he was recording her, but when her lashes fluttered up to perfectly view the camera whilst she sucked him, quinn knew he was close to cumming.

quinn groaned louder, fucking y/n’s face, her moans sending vibrations on his dick that pushed him to his release. he pulled out of her mouth right when he was about to cum, y/n sticking her tongue out to collect his release.

god he was loving this.

he stopped the video as she wiped the leftover release from her face, pulling her up for a sloppy hot kiss.

quinn pulled away, the two panting with puffy lips, “bed, ass up, baby. now.” he instructed, reopening his phone for the perfect view.

“yes captain,” y/n said, just ready for whatever quinn had in store for her, her wetness beginning to seep down and stick to her inner thighs, burning for him to touch her.

after hitting record, quinn wasted no time aligning himself with her, pumping in and out a few times before going fully in, his hips meeting her ass, eliciting moans from the two of them.

his pace was rapid and brutal, moving her hair away from her and back into his hands, revealing to the camera the “hughes” jersey she was wearing.

“fuck, quinn! mm, so good— my god, fuck,” y/n moaned, echoing with the sound of their skin slapping against one another, her noises music to quinn’s ears.

he continued to pound hard into her, y/n’s knuckles white from how hard she gripped into the sheets, feeling her stomach tighten, about to reach her high.

quinn felt her pussy tighten around him, knowing she was close, “gonna cum baby? go ahead, cum,” he husked, coming to his second of the night.

she screamed in pleasure, her cunt coating his dick, mixing with his as he filled her up with his release.

quinn pulled out of her slowly, giving time to show the camera a view of her dripping puffy pussy, ending the video with a hard smack on her ass.

y/n yelped, falling into the bed. quinn turned her around, gently kissing her in her dazed state.

“you okay baby?” he asked gently, caressing her face with his thumb,

“mhm, but i think you killed me. i’m exhausted,” she laughed, quinn smiling and bringing his lips down to peck hers, “sorry, want me to go start a shower for us?”

“you know me so well,”

quinn crawled off of her, grabbing his phone before slipping into the bathroom,

he opened instagram, typing in vince’s username into the search bar, itching as he opened their messages tab.

——————————————————————————

© missqhughes

xoxo, kaia

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[fairytaleendingss]

Room For One More?

Chapter 1

Summary: After a sudden eviction from your home, your friend Mary puts you in contact with her high school friends, James, Sirius and Remus who just so happen to be in need of a roommate. However, living with a group of boys you’ve never met before proves to be more complicated than you expected; especially when they’re all so attractive.

CW: None I don’t think.

Pairing: Poly!Marauders x fem!reader

——

To say that life had been crazy lately would be putting it lightly. You had only just moved to the city six months ago, in pursuit of a career you were still yet to achieve, got landed with an office job that you were only barely qualified for, and the eviction notice on the door of your shitty downtown apartment was just the icing on the cake.

For a good few days it seemed like your world was caving in around you as you tried to collect yourself and figure out the next steps. In a city like London, real estate was scarce, not to mention expensive, and you were still working to pay off your student loans.

It was only two days before you were set to be kicked out when your new friend, Mary stepped in and saved the day.

You met Mary at your new office job and she’d been somewhat of a saving grace from the beginning.

She had been a splash of colour in a sea of black suits and beige blouses. She’d been quick to introduce herself, inviting you to join her for lunch on your first day, during which she caught you up on all the ins and outs of office politics. The two of you had become fast friends, something you were extremely grateful for.

And you found yourself even more grateful for her, as her car pulled into the driveway of the apartment building you were about to call your new home.

“How do you know these guys again?” You asked, glancing up at the red brick structure through the passenger window.

“We all went to high school together,” She explained. “I know them really well, trust me they’re great guys.”

You believed her. She’d never given you a reason not to. But still, moving into a household with three strange men that you’ve never met, is bound to be daunting nonetheless.

“And you’re 100% sure they’re okay with me moving in? I mean, they don’t even know me!”

She only giggled. “Don’t be silly! They’re completely on board. They’ve been looking for a new roommate since their other friend Peter moved out a month ago to get a place with his girlfriend, Sybil. They were just about to put up an ad on Craigslist, for heavens sake. Trust me, you’re doing them a favour. If I love you, they’ll love you too.”

You nodded at her but your heart still hummed unsurely in your chest. You took a deep breath. It was now or never.

After a treacherous journey up the narrow staircase with boxes in hand, you arrived at the door to the apartment. Mary was behind you, lugging a suitcase full of your clothes. You wished, for a moment that her friends at least lived in a building that had an elevator. You erased that thought from your mind a moment later, when you remembered that these people were doing you a massive favour. Besides, you were hardly in a position to complain.

Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. When it swung open you had to make a conscious effort to pick your jaw up off the floor.

Standing in front of you was the most attractive man you’ve ever seen. He was fair and lean with long strands of dark hair fanning his face. He was chiseled in a way that made him look delicate, almost doll-like but he also had tattoos lining his arms and chest, which you could see poking out from beneath his white t-shirt. He was leaning against the doorframe, effortlessly cool, looking down at you with a flirtatious smirk on his face.

“Hey there gorgeous. You must be the new roommate. I’m Sirius.”

You peered up at him in shock, not quite sure how to respond to this man who had the face of a Greek God. And did he just call you gorgeous? You weren’t sure what you were expecting but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Um, hi,” you stumbled awkwardly. Your hands felt clammy even just looking at this guy, how the hell are you supposed to live with him? “I’m y/n.”

His grin only widened “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

“Ugh, stop flirting with her Sirius! And move out of the way, this stuff we’re carrying is heavy you know.”

You’d almost forgotten Mary was there until she’s stepping forward, shoving past Sirius who was blocking the doorway, and entering the apartment.

“Sorry hun, just trying to make conversation,” Sirius teased, stepping aside gently to let you in.

The place was bigger than you expected. Not huge but definitely comfortable, and better decorated. The picture you’d created in your imagination could only be described as a “bro cave” with bean bags on the floor and minimal furnishings. However, you were pleasantly surprised to see that the place is rather nice and homey, with comfortable leather furniture and a few framed artworks on the walls.

“Well, welcome home,” Sirius said, following you into the living room. “I can’t take any credit for the interior design, unfortunately. That was all Remus. Speaking of, I’ll go get him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to meet you.”

Sirius padded off down the hall, making his way to one of the rooms and banging heavily on the door.

“Remus! The new roommate is here! Don’t be rude and come and meet her!”

The boy that emerged was equally as attractive as Sirius. He was taller than the first boy, with a mop of sandy hair and dark, piercing eyes. He wasn’t as effortlessly cool as Sirius, he was more lanky and hunched in posture, but he had a sort of nerdy charm about him that was very endearing. He was dressed in a thick woollen jumper and his hair was mattered. He blinked up at Sirius, like he hadn’t quite caught up with the situation yet.

“What’s going on?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes. “Our new roommate is here! Come and say hello!”

He peered out of the doorway. Looking in either direction before his eyes landed on you. Not quite sure what to do with yourself, you sent him an awkward wave.

“Hi,”

“Hi,” he replied in return, with a tight lipped smile. Then he turned back to Sirius.

“Could you go away now please? I was having a nap.”

“Fine. Sorry.”

There door was abruptly slammed in his face.

You stood in the living room, holding a box to your chest awkwardly, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly uncomfortable about the interaction. Sirius could apparently tell, and was quick to jump to your aid.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said dismissively. “He’s just in a mood. He’s a med student and all the studying is driving him wild at the moment. He’ll come good after he gets a bit of sleep. Now, how about I show you to your room?”

He directed you down the hallway to a door at the end. Inside, you could already see Mary hanging up your clothes in the wardrobe.

“So this is you,” Sirius muttered, gesturing to the space like a magician revealing his assistant had not, in fact, been sawed in half. Then he sent you another flirtatious smile, something you were quickly learning was a signature of his.

“I’ll leave you girls to it but just shout if there’s anything you need. Although, if you want someone to help carry boxes, I’d recommend waiting until James gets home later on. He’s the athletic one of the three of us. And let me tell you those stairs are a killer.”

You chuckled, a genuine smile overtaking your face for the first time in this whole experience.

“Thanks Sirius. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” he drawled, giving you a wink.

Mary rolled her eyes. “Okay Sirius. Thank you but you can go now. We have a lot of unpacking to do here.”

Once Sirius had departed, you and Mary got to work on unpacking your things. Luckily for you, Peter had left behind a bed frame and a few pieces of furniture in his move, a saving grace considering most of your stuff had come with the previous apartment. You still had a mattress strapped to the roof of Mary’s car that needed bringing in, but like Sirius had said, Mary insisted that you wait for the mysterious James to return from work to help you carry any of the heavier items inside (With the way the others talked about him, you could only imagine he must be a superhero). Instead you busied yourself with unpacking your random assortment of trinkets collected over the years.

“So how are you feeling about the place?” Mary pried, unpacking a few shoe boxes into the bottom of the closet.

“It seems alright,” you admitted. “To be honest, I was a little nervous going into this but Sirius seems nice. I think he and I will get along.”

Mary smiled. “Oh good! I knew you’d like it. And just wait until you get to know the other boys better too. You’ll fit right in! I’m sure of it.”

You have her an anxious smile. “I really hope you’re right.”

—

It was a few hours later, when the sound of the door clicking open caught your attention.

“Honey! I’m home!” A playful voice boomed down the doorway.

You slowly emerged from your room to greet your final roommate. The guy was visibly buff and wearing a mud-covered jersey. He had matted tuft of thick dark curls and round glasses that balanced on the edge of his nose.

You couldn’t help but admire him as he kicked his shoes off.

“Hi. I’m y/n. I’m your new roommate.”

He looked up curiously before his expression morphed into a dazzlingly charming smile. He began to approach you and you held out a hand for him to shake. He bypassed the gesture all together, instead choosing to engulf you in a bone-crushing hug.

You were caught a little off-guard at first but tentatively hugged him back, heat rising in your cheeks as you felt the muscles of his biceps flex against you.

Pull yourself together!! You thought.

As he pulled away, he looked down at you, a few stray curls falling in front of his eyes. He smiled widely, reminding you somewhat of a playful puppy.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you!” He exclaimed. “Mary’s told me so much about you.”

You couldn’t help the smile that crept onto your own face as you looked up at him. You really liked James, you decided.

“How have you been settling in so far?” He continued.

“Pretty well, I suppose. I’ve done most of my unpacking now.”

He nodded. “That’s good. Well if you need help with anything, let me know. I’d be happy to assist.”

You grimaced. “Actually there is one thing you might be able to help me with?”

He raised a brow expectantly.

“How do you feel about mattress transportation?”

—

Manoeuvring a queen sized mattress up three floors of narrow stairs proved to be a challenging task. But somehow, between the two of you, you managed it.

By the time James actually wrestled the mattress on your bed-frame, you were just about ready to collapse on top of it.

Mary, unfortunately, had found the whole display hilarious, especially the moment where you’d lost your grip and send the mattress sliding down the stairs back to the first floor. So instead of offering to help, she’d taken the opportunity to film the entire ordeal on her phone. You expected it would be gracing social media by the end of the evening.

“Well, I’d say that’s a job well done!” James exclaimed as he finally dropped the material onto the bed-frame.

You chuckled. “Yeah! I mean it only took an hour and a half.”

James smiled and checked the watch on his wrist.

“It’s getting late and I really should shower. But how about we order pizza afterwards. We could have dinner and get to know each other a little better.”

“I’d like that.”

“Great! Mary, darling, you’re invited too of course.”

The girl looked between the two of you, smiling playfully. Then she shot you a look.

“Thanks for the offer Jamie but I actually have some stuff I need to get done back at home. You guys enjoy though.”

She sent you a wink as she went and your eyes widened.

“I’m going to go wash off, but there’s a take out menu on the fridge,” James said. “Pick out whatever you want. My shout.”

—

A short while later you found yourself sat on the loveseat, a plate of pizza in your lap while Sirius and James sat side by side on the couch, bickering about the most recent episode of the Bachelor. You couldn’t help but laugh as you watched on.

They argued in a way that was firm but affectionate. You could tell that they were particularly close and had clearly known each other a long time.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing!” Sirius exclaimed, waving his piece of pizza in the air for emphasis. “Jennifer was such a bitch! She totally deserved to be sent home.”

James gasped in mock offence. “No way! He should’ve kept her. They had a special connection.”

“Are you kidding?” Sirius blurted. “All she did was talk about herself. She barely even gave him the time of day.”

“I disagree! She was playing hard to get. Girls only do that when they like someone!” James stated matter-of-factly. You couldn’t contain your snort at the comment.

Sirius turned to you then, a smirk adorning his gorgeous face. “Well, lucky for us, we now have a girl here to settle agreements such as these. What do you think, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes affectionately at the nickname. “If I’m being honest, I have to agree with Sirius. Jennifer was kind of a bitch.”

Sirius cheered and James held a hand to his chest dramatically.

“Well you’re both wrong,” James joked. “We must have been watching two different shows.”

Sirius scoffed. “Nah, mate. You just have a terrible radar when it comes to girls. I mean, you’ve been chasing the same girl since you were fifteen and she’s still shown you no interest.”

Your eyebrows raised at that one. “Wait what? I feel like I’ve missed a chapter here.“

“She’s just a friend.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Yeah, a friend you’ve been in love with since third form.”

James sighed.

“There’s this girl, Lily, in our friend group,” he began to explain, looking rather bashful. “And I’ve kind of been into her for a while but she always turns me down.”

You grimaced, clicking your tongue in sympathy. “That sucks. But hey, If she’s managed to keep your interest for all these years then she must really be special. I’d love to meet her sometime.”

James smiled gently. “I’m sure you will soon. She and Mary are quite close.”

Sirius face lit up suddenly at that. “Actually guys, that reminds me. The band is playing a gig on Saturday and everyone’s coming. You should join us y/n!”

“Hold on, since when are you in a band?” You queried. “I thought you were a bartender.”

Sirius chuckled. “I’m a bit of both! Bartender by night and lead singer of ‘Snakes and Lions’ by… well also by night I guess.”

“Basically, he plays in a band on the weekends,” James clarified.

“Yeah, and soon, we’ll be world famous!”

“Well I’d love to come and see you play,” you uttered.

“Great, it’s a date then.”

“What’s a date?”

You all looked up to see that Remus had finally emerged from his room. He looked tired and a little disheveled. Although you supposed that was the only way you’d had a chance to see him so far.

“Rem, mate! Come join us! We got Italian sausage just for you!”

Sirius gestured to one of the pizza boxes on the table and Remus nodded, grabbing a plate to fill.

“We were just telling y/n about Sirius’ gig this weekend.”

Remus looked up at you for a moment, his tired eyes unreadable. Then he straightened himself up and came to stand before you awkwardly.

“You’re um… you’re in my seat.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh! I’m sorry.”

You shot up from the spot, feeling rather mortified by the interaction.

“It’s okay, you can come sit here!” James stated, sliding further towards the armrest of the sofa and patting the spot in between himself and Sirius.

You sat down tentatively, but Sirius threw an arm around your shoulder which helped a bit in easing the nerves.

You found yourself glancing over at Remus. He seemed quiet as he munched on his pizza. You couldn’t help but feel a tinge of frustration towards him. He’d been nothing but rude to you since you arrived and you had no clue why.

“So tell us, y/n. What brought you to London?”

Your thoughts were cut short by Sirius’ question.

“Well, I just finished my degree not too long ago and I decided I needed a change, I suppose. London has a lot of good opportunities.”

“What did you study?” James asked, leaning his head in his hand as he looked down at you.

“Literature actually. I want to be a writer.”

Sirius brows shot up. “Really? That’s great. You should talk about that with Remus. He loves books.”

“Hmm?” The boy looked up then, as if having been lost in his own world, before brought back by the sound of his name.

“Y/n studied literature at university.”

He glanced over at you, only looking mildly interested. “Oh, that’s good.”

Then he turned his wrist glancing down at the watch that he wore. “It’s getting late. If you all don’t mind, I think I will finish dinner in my room. I have a lot of work to do.”

You frowned at that. Had you done something to upset him? Why was he so eager to get away from you?

“Alright mate. We’ll see you in the morning,” James muttered, oblivious to the issue.

Remus nodded at him before getting up slowly and sauntering back into his room.

James continued munching on his pizza happily but Sirius clearly noticed the way you tensed at the boy’s exit. He leaned in closely, speaking in a low tone so only you could hear.

“Sorry about him. He really isn’t like this usually. I’ll have a talk with him.”

You sighed. “No no, it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”

You really didn’t want to be a point of contention between these boys.

“Are you sure? It’s no trouble-“

“No it’s fine,” you shook your head. “Actually, I’m feeling a little tired as well. I might turn in for the evening.”

James looked over at you with gentle eyes. “Okay. Sleep well.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, jumping up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

Once you got to your room, you lay back heavily against the door, sighing. You considered the events of the day. There had been few hiccups but you decided then and there that you’d do whatever you could to move past them.

You got along well with James and Sirius seemed friendly. It was just Remus who you were yet to win over.

As you got ready for bed, your mind ran over the interactions that you’d had so far and wondered what might be the root of his frustrations.

Maybe things will be different tomorrow, you thought, as you settled in for the night.

[exaltededge]

Proud. He can respect it. However, “it is not pity.” Wrist relaxes but makes no move to put away the money, being cursed out by a child low on his list of things that would happen today. Attention moves to the boy's exposed arm, frown creasing the edges of his features. The illness must have reached all of his extremities as well, baggy clothes his only solution. And there he notices the weight in the pocket of his jacket. A gun or dagger perhaps? It could explain his added boldness given that he knows who he is and what he's easily capable of doing.

“Look at that. I'm sure she'll tell the town guard, who will tell the marines.” Tongue clucks against his soft palate, eyes never leaving the small boy, a familiar will burns inside him in spite of all that the world has thrown at his feet.

Fascinating.

“The real shame here is that you will die soon. You may have had promise as a swordsman.” Imperceptibly quick Mihawk’s empty hand slips into the hoodie's large pocket and fishes out what Law had gripped so tightly; a decently taken care of blade, nicks and blemishes from hitting bone. “If you believe my money is charity then kill a single pirate and accept it as payment.” At worst the boy would die standing, at best he would exercise some of his blood lust. Fingers twirl around the short cross guard, hilt pointing towards Law. “Or take the money for wasting your precious time and I keep this.” Fingers twist again, simple pommel tucked into his palm now. “To remember a dying boy when no one else will.”

   Golden eyes devoid of emotion meet the piercing gaze of Dracule Mihawk. Trafalgar Law does not flinch, his features cold and empty. Just as empty as the first day he met Doflamingo. Much has changed since that day, but this hasn’t. The boy still believes in nothing and cares for nothing. There is no change as Mihawk gives that warning. All Law does is raise an eyebrow as if to wordless say, So what? He’s the last person to care if some no-named stranger dies at this man’s hands.

   Then the man continues, and Law’s jaw tightens.

   Marines? Here? Just his fucking luck. Just the thought of them makes his skin crawl. In his minds eye he sees men in gasmasks, looming and burning and killing. Most wore the insignia of neighbouring countries, but some sported the seagull’s wings. If the locals will become a mad, murderous mob upon seeing him, the Marines will simply shoot him dead. They’d want to wipe out any trace of Flevance, anything and anyone that could speak the truth of what happened in that country. He’d be dead before he even tries to run.

    And then there is Cora-san. Law feels his stomach flip, a fear he didn’t think he had taking shape. What if Corazon saw this as an escape? What if he chose to go back to his masters instead of continuing in his stupid quest to save him? Yes, Law knows the man is a Marine. He isn’t stupid and Cora-san doesn’t lie as well as he thinks he does. At least not to this observant boy. If Cora decided now would be the best time to hand over his intel Law would be free, but he’d be alone again. Alone and vulnerable. He can’t have that.

    Mihawk crouches down before Law, drawing him from his thoughts. The boy takes a step back, eyes wary and grip tightening on his knife. He glares, loathing the way this man eyes him up. He almost tugs out the knife, Trafalgar Law prepared to slash at any hand that reaches for him. Instead, what he gets is a wad of cash shoved towards him. He straightens, rage taking over his features. He pulls a hand from his pocket, the one not holding the knife, and flips Dracule Mihawk off.

   “Take your charity and shove it up your ass, Hawk-ya,” he hisses.

   The too big sleeve of his hoodie slips down his arm, revealing more of his white blotched skin. A few common folks still rush through the town square, and one looks at Law at the wrong time. There is an audible gasp and a pair of wide eyes. Law’s gaze darts to the woman as he hears her whisper, “White monster,” and “Unclean.”

    “Shit,” Law murmurs, releasing the knife in his hoodie pocket to tug the sleeve down over his arm. He hunches deeper into the shadow of his hood.